#he flew too close to the sun and got fuckin burned. you get what you deserve

[allpromarlo]

the browns broke their losing streak...

#the same browns...we just beat last week? #on god? just like that? #i said the week we played the bungles and i'll say it again: don't EVER compare justin tucker to no bums again #especially not evan mc'missedfieldgoal'phearson #he flew too close to the sun and got fuckin burned. you get what you deserve #am i enjoying this? mildly #nfl #cincinnati bengals #cleveland browns #who can win their division matchups? not the cincinnati bengals! #the browns still deserve death for the watson ordeal but i'll give them a pass today #bc y'know. i love seeing my division rivals in the mud

[hunterwritesstuff]

Hex update?

Sure! :D

Val - “You never had any good. Only hate.”(Hated)

Vox - “I can’t fathom what could have made you think you deserved him.”(Loved)

Velvet - "I KNOW I damage my suit a lot can you just FIX IT already?!"(Tension)

Hex - "Who's this handsome fuck? Looks like he has some issues he wants to talk out with his partner but is scared to due to worrying it'll scare him away~ Looks downright sexy with the stubble though!"(Neutral)

Husk - “Got any crème de la menthe or Jack Frosties?”(Friendly)

Shirley - “Thank you for being there for me.”(Family)

Ebony - “I pity you.”(Friendly)

Ranni - "Baa! Er...sorry...hello!"(Friendly)

Alastor - “The game has changed, man. Why stay living in the past?”(Neutral)

Rosie - "I'm not changing my attire. I would not look good in a suit."(Neutral)

Orion - "Oh, how the mighty do fall! Ha ha!”(Tension)

Charlie - “Why would I wanna be redeemed when I finally have what I want down here?”(Neutral)

Angel Dust - “Get help. Keep going down this path, you’ll only crash and burn.”(Friendly)

Vaggie - “I have no ill will against you or your girlfriend. I just don’t want to lose my happiness.”(Tension)

Lute - “Your Icarus flew too close to the sun, little birdy! What’re ya gonna do now, hmmm?”(Tension)

Adam - “Don’t touch her. Stay the fuck away.”(Hated)

Jax - “Get on the grid, glitch.”(Hated)

Lucifer - “King of Hell, crown of shattered dreams. I know that pain.” (Friendly)

Rynz — “A real diamond in the rough, fashioned from coal! Y'know what they say in the industry! Can’t make an omelette without cracking a few eggs!”(Henchman)

Peter - "...yeah, no, he's fuckin' gay."(Neutral)

Astrid - "f...fluff...fluffy..."(Friendly)

Lilith - "A coward."(Tension)

Eve - "Fuckin' creepy..."(Scared)

Dante - "Motorcycles are better than horses!"(Friendly)

Bob - "...holy fuck."(Friendly)

Cain - "First blood drawn."(Tension)

Abel - "Need an icepack? Do bright lights hurt? Need sunglasses?"(Friendly)

Vesper - "Ah....such sweet sounds...may I listen a bit longer?"(Friendly)

Celeste - "Really?! That's cool as fuck!!"(Friendly)

Emily - "I only fear that Heaven will throw such a pure soul out..."(Friendly)

Sera - "Why are YOU in charge?"(Tension)

Azrael - "Wanna come down and watch sometime?"(Friendly)

Uriel - "...if I...If I throw you into a carwash...and all that comes out, that's left of you, is your suit and wings...you're-you're probably dead!"(Tension)

Gabriel - "Too sweet for the shits you're surrounded with."(Friendly)

Michael - "You belong here."(Hated)

Hope ya enjoy! :D

#hazbin hotel hex #hex hazbin hotel #hex

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Seven

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 7 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; strong language; canon-level violence (explosions); mentions of alcohol poisoning; mention of Infinity War/Endgame deaths; perceived domestic partner abuse (no such thing actually happens!); concussions and minor injuries; mentions of arranged marriages; mentions of drug smuggling and human smuggling; lying; ANGST!

Word Count: 14,100+

A/N: So close to the finish line...

~

Spain, 2024, 5:07 pm.

    “Get the damn ice cream, Peter. I’m not holding you back.”

The kid sped down the sidewalk as fast as his feet would let him, skips in his steps and ignoring the chastising yells from Bucky. 

“You’re letting him have sugar?” Bucky whines, sluggish in his own steps. The Spanish summer sun was blaring, burning your forehead and building the same cold craving in your throat. It was just the three of you, carefree but melting, happy but annoyed with the constant proximity of each other. The villa (if you could call it that, it was more of a cottage) was listed as having three rooms - not the two you were stuck with. Bucky was at the last inch of self-control, begging you to switch with him - if only for one night - because ‘the kid fuckin’ talks in his sleep, doll! One more night and I might smother him.’

It was Bucky’s idea to take a little vacation. A year after the blip and only a few months after Peter’s world was turned upside down, a vacation seemed like the best choice. Preferably somewhere that was quiet and somewhat rural - somewhere you guys won’t be easily recognized. 

So the three of you packed and flew across the pond. In all honesty, you hadn’t even told the rest of the team where you were going besides Wanda. One day you were greeting them in the common room and preparing lunch, the other you were throwing your suitcase in one of the two vacant rooms in this little Spanish cottage. The three of you were truly off the map in terms of late notice. 

“Let the kid live. He’s having a mid-life crisis at eighteen.”

“I’ve had more mid-life crisis’s than his age combined. He’s not special.” The pointed look on your face had Bucky sighing in small defeat. “Okay, okay.”

These past two weeks in shared solitude, even if this trip was supposed to be relaxing, was beginning to melt into a tiresome routine. Well, just nights. The days were mild at best. And to make matters worse, you and Bucky had been dodging the team’s calls, messages that you left for voicemail. Bucky had clicked ‘end call’ more times than he could count and his excuse was always, ‘ the kid doesn’t want to leave, doll.’ Even annoyed with Peter, Bucky wanted only the best. 

It was only a matter of time until your phones were tracked and you were forced to come home. Everyone probably knew where you were anyway - you weren’t exactly hiding. But since you already got a good two weeks in, you figured they had taken some sympathy. 

“Think we can get him to visit a museum today or something?”

Bucky shrugged, lining up at the coffee stand near the ice cream cart. “Saw him checking out banana bread recipes last night. Seems more like a baking day.”

You could go for some banana bread. Ordering two iced coffees and making more miscellaneous small talk while waiting for Peter to order, you studied the streets of Spain. The country had suffered greatly when, cruelly, more than half their population disappeared. Left in proper ruins, no one believed it would ever recover. But then there was an election, a change in the structural government, and it just… did. They rebuilt themselves better than any country had, in your opinion. 

It was a rather calm day with minimal people out and about. It was exactly what you guys deserved after every mission - in your case, after a long month of PR recovery after that bar fight alongside Sam. 

“You bake, Barnes?”

He smiled fully, “Any chance I get.”

“You guys want anything?” Peter yelled out, bouncing lightly on his heels as he waited. You waved him off. “You sure? It’s pretty cheap for summer prices!”

After rejecting Peter’s dozen ice cream questions and offers, the three of you decided the heat was a little too much to bear, even with sunscreen. Peter spoke most of the way. Something about that banana bread.

Bucky, being the baker, helped him choose the best recipe of the four Peter had bookmarked and soon the kitchen was only half dirty with eggs and mashed bananas.

“What do you mean a cup of baking soda, kid? Use your eyes,” Bucky yelled in second hand embarrassment. “I don’t think a cup of baking soda goes in anything.”

“Read right here, dude,” Peter poked at his tablet. “A cuuuu... okay. Okay, I see what I read wrong.”

“You two better be making me some good ass banana bread today. I don’t want to throw up!” You had opted to let the two men have their fun in the kitchen. You tried to bake, but you were more of a cook than anything else.

“You could be reading out the directions.”

“I could do a lot of things,” you respond with the emphasis on “could”.

The doorbell interrupted your no-so-real argument. Peter snickered, “You could get the door.”

With a displeased grunt and a straightened middle finger to the kid, you opened the door to find two people who were definitely not invited. Clint, with this magical and massive smile on his face and Steve, with his eyebrow cocked and arms crossed.

“Oh, would you look at that. Guests! Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Now, how and why?” Bucky groaned. But his actions contradict his words as he went to give Steve a hug, covered in flour and all.

“Hey, Clint,” you mumbled, purposely ignoring the super soldier side-eyeing you. “Care to tell us what you’re doing here?

Clint returned your warm smile, “See, Cap? They’re safe. Can we go now?”

Steve rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in a rather demanding way. “We’re here to take them home, Clint.”

Bucky scoffs.

“Eh, you might be. But I’m here to soak up some of this Spanish sun.” A low grunt sounded in the back of Clint’s throat as he spoke. He was already making his way to pick at the mashed ingredients. 

“You heard the man, pal,” Bucky slaps Steve’s shoulder, leaving him at the door as well. Awkwardly left alone, you blow a small raspberry and step aside to let Steve in. Bucky continues, “We’re here to soak up some sun. And I’m not done soakin’.”

With great protest, Steve maneuvers Bucky away from the kitchen and into the hallway beside the master bedroom. With both super soldiers out of the way, you finally go to help Peter with mixing. “Why did he come, really?”

Clint shrugs, arms deep inside your cabinets and collecting whatever desserts you had pre-packaged. “Honestly? I think he missed you guys.”

“All this drama because he misses Bucky? He could have just shown up declaring truce and had a nice little vacation,” you mumbled, glaring at Steve from behind. 

“Think he felt like he needed an excuse to even show up. But they really are asking for you guys back home. Threatened to arrest your ass.”

“Lucky me.”

You could make out snippets of their tiny argument up ahead. 

‘You could have called.’

‘You haven’t been answering the phone, Buck.’

‘I’ve been relaxing.’

A heavy sigh. 

‘I just thought we told each other everything.’

‘Believe it or not, Steve… but I’ve got more friends now. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m not trying to ignore you, I - I just needed to help another friend out this time.’

Peter, with great care, washes his hands and makes sure there aren't any random mashes of banana on his clothing before he side-steps you and Clint to interrupt the very ‘private’ conversation between the super soldiers. “Hey, Mr. Steve- Cap, hey.”

Steve immediately lets his hard gaze falter. “Hey, kid. You doin’ good?”

Peter nods in response. 

“He’s doing great! Much needed vacation that still isn’t over.”

“Buck.”

Inserting yourself may not have been the best option. “Give it up, Rogers. We’re on vacation. And until the kid says he’s ready to go home, we go home.”

Peter fumbles, “Oh, please don’t put me on the spot like that. I’m not good with confrontation.”

Bucky quickly answers before Steve can, “It’s not confrontation, Peter. We love being out here and if it’s helping your mental health, we’re not going to take that away from you.”

Steve blinks and his expression looks like one of hurt. “You think I wanna do that? The literal president has been asking for your location. You’re not allowed to leave the country.”

You shrug, “Well, no one told me that.”

“Buck, you were just granted immunity three months ago. And you go and drop off the face of the earth?”

“I’m literally in Spain.”

Steve blinks again. He really can’t believe he’s got to deal with two people with similar personalities. “Your point?”

“On Earth…?”

Clint decides to make his presence known. He has even inserted the poured batter into the glass tray for you guys. “Why don’t we just stay with ‘em, Cap? God knows you need a vacation, too.”

“We have two rooms. You’d be bunking on the floor,” you say, pointing to random areas on the floor.

Clint waves his hand in the air, “Not the worst place I’ve slept in.”

“I’m being hounded day and night to bring you three home.” Steve looks about ready to burst into tears of frustration.

“Turn off your phone?”

Steve whips his head and stomps to close the few feet of distance between the two of you. “You really think it’s that easy? You really think I wasn’t worried when my two best friends just disappeared one night and didn’t tell me?”

Two.

Best. 

Friends. 

Before you could even comment, Bucky puts on the dramatics.  “We ran away together, Stevie. We meant to tell you.”

Steve takes a moment, just staring at the ceiling and piecing together his thoughts. “Joke all you want, Buck. I’m bringing you home.”

“Ste-”

“No!” He’s stomping back to the front door now. “I’ve had enough! I can’t stand not knowing where you guys are all day when bad things keep happening in this world. Just… just come home.”

All is quiet besides the quiet munching of Clint and his rogue cookie. Steve’s face did this thing when he was at war with himself, anxiety crawling up his arms or panic weighing his empty stomach down. His face drained color and that perfect renaissance oil lost its blush, blended paint that turned a murky gray. A masterpiece lost in storage.

“I can take the couch,” you whisper, arms erupting in goosebumps. “You guys can stay the night and we’ll go home tomorrow, okay? Or somewhere pre-approved, I guess.”

Bucky didn’t argue. Neither did Peter. 

Steve's imaginary painter adds the softest pink back to Steve’s cheeks as you compile a mess of blankets and pillows for him.

Present Day, 2025, 7:15 am

     There’s a warmth near you as you begin to lazily shuffle against the sheets, heavy on your chest but comfortable all in all. 

There are no worries, no sudden bursts of Avenger business, no fights needing to be fought. Simply Steve warm against you with sunlight draping over his bare and freckled shoulders. 

The serum enhanced for the sole purpose of strength and survival. And sure, it healed the body quicker than the average human body could naturally, but the one thing it couldn’t do was strip personality. 

Steve had freckles splattered along his broad shoulders and down to in between his shoulder blades, light in color and all similar in size. Something a lot of people hated about themselves and tried to cover up while others tried to mimic. The serum was supposed to heal damaged skin, sunburnt areas, birthmarks, and even moles - at least, that’s what the official 1943 report had claimed. 

But over the years, Steve had continued to age and grow into his new body. And while he couldn’t get dangerously sick anymore, anything unknown could still occur. No one had the same serum as Steve and last Tony had heard, Peggy had spilled the last remnants of Steve’s original DNA (blood they took before the procedure) in the Hudson. Bucky seemed to be experiencing the same natural changes as well. 

It had been proven that neither Steve nor Bucky could carry or transmit diseases, experience abnormal cell production, nor could they develop a lifelong ailment without severe reason. 

So imagine everyone’s surprise when Clint called one morning while deep in a routine mission (somewhere in Africa, you really don’t remember) to relay the news that, ‘you guys aren’t gonna fucking believe this - yeah Rogers, I’m telling them the hilarious news right now - Steve’s appendix just up and exploded last night - hey! He just stole - hold on. Give me back my hearing aid, you abelist fuck!’. 

Steve had stretch marks on his back from the procedure, his elbow still hurt from time to time after he had snapped it a year ago, and the white scar above his right hip reminded him that even super soldiers are not exempt from the wonders of the appendix. 

His breathing was slow and his eyelids flickered. Seemed he was enjoying his first deep sleep in a while. You craned your neck to try and read the cable box across the room, slightly making out a seven in the front before you gave up. You were due for your annual eye appointment, anyway. 

Steve did have perfect eyesight though, so damn him.

You shrugged the sheets from your arms. He was on his stomach, cheek planted on your chest and right foot dangling off the side of the bed. His left arm was draped over your middle and his right was tucked inside a pillowcase. His hair draped over his forehead and some of it was still tucked behind his ears. 

Careful to not wake him, you gently traced the ridge of his nose with your index finger, resting it on the tip that always turned bright pink regardless of mood. Once at the end, you went back up to trace it again. 

“Beak,” you whispered more to yourself, and you bit your lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to giggle. 

Steve was here, next to and near you, and he was so warm. 

You could have stayed in bed for hours, sleeping and cuddling and fucking, and you would bet your left kidney that Steve wanted that too. It was impossible to question it, it had to be, because Steve was too genuine. You had met hundreds of men in your life: some the literal devil, some cowards, some reserved, and rarely, some genuine at heart. Steve fit some category that didn’t even exist. 

You wanted to love him and hate him. You wanted to make love and fuck him. You wanted to kiss him and annoy him. He checked a box that didn’t exist but that you would just have to reserve for him. The annoying little shit who could lift Thor’s hammer. 

The door almost ripped off its hinges by the brute force of someone’s leg. You didn’t even fully register being crushed by Steve until his elbow stabbed you right in the gut. 

“Rogers!” you groaned in pain and half trying to reach for your pistol on the bedside table. 

There was a collective gasp of surprise (and maybe terror) from the people that just broke down your door. After yesterday’s unplanned run-in with Ramirez, no doubt this was called-for.

“Oh, hell…” Sam grumbled, lowering his gun the second he realized two of his friends were sharing one bed. “Lemme guess, the other bed’s mattress was too firm but this one’s just right.”

Bucky stood behind him, a knowing smirk plastered on his smug face. He looked between you and Steve, ignoring the way Scott was practically pulling his shoulder down in pure fits of laughter. Didn’t take much for Scott to tip himself over and almost drag Bucky down with him. 

“Couldn’t you knock?” Steve nearly yelled, body still trying to shield yours even though you were fully dressed. You were struggling to push him away in pure embarrassment, but he seemed intent with this form of protection. 

“You weren’t answering your phone! We changed our check-in times to seven instead of eight, remember?”

Steve, ever the gentleman, brought the sheets up higher for you and finally lifted himself out of bed. 

And Bucky, ever the gentleman who has been spending way too much time with Clint, nodded his head toward you. “You two fuck?”

Mouth dropping in humiliation, you pulled the sheets up over your head and screamed into the temporary cover. Steve sputtered over whatever explanation he was thinking of pulling out of his ass. 

“You two fucked,” Bucky smugly confirmed. 

Steve pulled on the nearest shirt and went to kick Scott, who was ‘criss-cross apple-sauced’ on the floor and laughing way too loudly. “Is it really any of your business?”

“Man, that’s an answer!” Sam was about to fall into the same fit as Scott. 

Annoyed, and fueled by that annoyance, you ripped the sheets off and marched for the bathroom. “You really want to know, you nosy little fucks? We did fuck and he made me come three times. Ask him how, I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two, no matter how embarrassed he may seem right now.”

You left him alone. You literally just exposed him and you left him alone with the wolves. 

All was quiet until Sam blew a small raspberry. “Three times?”

     Bucky didn’t need to speak to show he was about to tease the hell out of you. He simply sipped his coffee until he emptied it, and then refilled it. You couldn’t even finish a single mug yet because you were waiting to break the tension. 

Looking around the hotel bar because he still valued your privacy, Bucky made sure to keep his voice low. “Three times?”

Half wanting to slap the smirk off his face and the other half wanting to announce Steve’s naughty accomplishment, you settled for pouring more coffee into your mug. 

“Don’t you dare hold what I said against me, I literally had just woken up.”

“Mm, yeah. I remember how you literally moaned Thor’s name when you were startled awake from a nap in the living room.”

“Bucky!” you yelled, turning your shoulders inwards when you received a few odd looks from other early risers. Well, some were early risers. The person closest to the door was an agent, as was the other eating breakfast at the bar. “You promised you would never mention that again!”

He shook his head with amusement, “I can’t believe you swore me to secrecy when Loki basically told everyone.”

“He-!” Choking on your own spit, you slid lower into your booth. “That mischievous, conniving, son of a bitch.”

“In all honesty, I think that was his way of flirting with you.”

“Telling everyone I had a wet dream about his brother?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be the first.”

You smirked, “Oh, trust me. I know.”

Bucky squinted, guilty in his spoken words. “All I’m saying is, it’s nice that you didn’t just write Steve off with us, as if nothing happened.”

It made your heart swell that even in a moment with you, Bucky would still always protect Steve. 

“I would never. We actually talked last night and he really apologized.”

“Really?” His eyes were hopeful. 

“He did. And as cliche as it sounds, one thing led to another.”

You realized your earlier words were contradictory when Bucky sighed sadly, “This better not have been a one time thing. I’ll strangle you both.”

You scoffed and finally took a piece of that blueberry muffin on your plate. “Screw you, Barnes. It’s Steve we’re talking about. I’d give him the world if I could.”

That made Bucky blush. “God, I’m stupidly happy for him. I always said he’d need to find a dame who had as big of a mouth as he does.”

Rolling your eyes, you offered him some of that muffin. He gladly broke off a piece. “Don’t go marrying us off just yet.”

“Doll, he almost imploded when we discovered you slept together. Teasing him about proposing might just kill him.”

You laughed at that. Although Steve had admitted he regretted the time you lost, there wasn’t any chance he would push you any further. He was probably comfortable with taking things slow, no matter the history. You had that in common. 

“Seems we’re all just gonna have to make sure we don’t cause his demise.”

Smiling as he chewed, Bucky played with your feet under the table. Safe moments like these always occurred before a mission, no matter how simple or heavy they were. And like people love to say, you never fought with each other before. Just in case. 

Going to bed angry was another thing entirely. That, the whole team was proficient in. 

“You ready for tonight?”

Yesterday had definitely turned you against the very concept of family reunions, what with the small ache between your shoulders. You were angry with Seda, with Ernesto, disappointed with Ramirez, and neutral toward your sister. 

God, your sister. This would be the first time since you left Mexico for school and SHIELD that you would be seeing her, as well as your other siblings. Jackeline was perhaps the only sibling you had some real memories with. Everyone else was already deep in the business or far away from the chaos. The team only knew of two other siblings who rsvp’d. The others: radio silence. 

“Part of me just wants a normal family wedding. I’m kinda hoping we can just end it all tonight.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bucky chuckled, finishing off your muffin for you. “You’ll get some closure soon enough.”

There was no such thing as closure. Just less of a constant sting. 

“Bucky,” you spoke seriously now. “My father made Steve sign something yesterday.”

“He told us at the debrief yesterday.”

“When did you have a debrief?”

Bucky scooted in his booth, quickly explaining. “Uh well, it wasn’t so much of a debrief as it was a simple overview. Just a heads up.”

You tilted your head, somewhat unconvinced. “Uh-huh… but we could void it, right? He had a fucking notary there and everything.”

“We can declare it void, yeah Y/N,” he grabbed your hand over the table. “He won’t get tangled in this.”

With a heavy sigh, you gripped Bucky’s hand tighter. “I’m really glad you guys are gonna help us.”

He returned your smile. “Anything for family.”

Family. 

After all these years of self-hatred and despising your own blood, you blinded yourself of the simple truth that you already had a real family. Whether you were accepted after Sokovia, or after you helped Steve escape with Bucky, or after those long five years, you were accepted. And you accepted them right back. 

    The briefing goes as expected. Didn’t seem like anyone was going to live down the now obvious fact that you and Steve had slept together after years of unnoticed pining. You simply took the teasing in stride, better than Steve even, who stuffed his face full of chips in embarrassment.

The plan was simple but ever-evolving. The three of them will hang back: Bucky at the hotel, Scott and Sam at the nearby base with Torres. The base was fifteen minutes from the estate, hidden behind those same pine trees but the perfect cover - it was a nearby diner. Steve will still take the shield, FRIDAY was installed on your personal phones, and any weapons you attached to your person were specifically made to deter metal detectors. Once in, it was mingle, mingle, mingle.

There were going to be a thousand questions to answer: What in the world is Captain America doing here? Is he here to cause trouble? Are you two seriously dating? So, Captain America being one of us means holding Thor’s hammer was a myth, aye?

Then you would move on to the more important guests. Jackeline’s greeting would be more of a reunion. But flying under and over the radar had to walk the same line - you needed to mix in with the crowd and make sure they see you participating, but then escape for a little while to continue the mission.

Once in, the task was to electronically and physically retrieve everything Scott didn’t have time to yesterday, plus the new information Ernesto got for today and tomorrow. His latest emails, list of contacts, checks, birth certificates, video evidence.

“Do we all know our duties?”

You wanted to wrap up Steve’s commanding voice and keep it a special secret, a secret that was yours and the team’s to share.

“We got it, Cap. For the tenth time this week - you two okay?”

Sam was rewarded with a slanted smile. “Everytime you ask me that, I’ll lie.”

He nods, “At least you admit it. You’re not alone in this.”

“For years,” you continued, “It’s been that way. I guess I’m both ready for it to end and not. I want them behind bars. I don’t want the repercussions.”

“Makes sense,” Bucky agrees. “At least part of the fight will be over.”

Beside you, Steve clenches his jaw. “We’re always fighting.”

Bucky grins at him, “Yeah.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he leans forward to squeeze Steve’s thigh. “At least it’s not with each other anymore.”

     They weren’t lying when they said vibranium was lightweight. Felt different from nano-tech and was an obvious change from your regular body suit. You felt protected and stylish. Good, because even though you weren’t obligated to impress those vultures, there were still a few cousins and extended family members you wanted compliments from. And?

The black turtleneck was warmer than you expected and didn’t strangle you. You were a bundle of velvet bliss right now. The cuffs were a golden brown, completely made from vibranium. Modeling in the mirror, you whispered a few ‘pew-pew’s as you blocked pretend bullets. C’mon, golden bracelets? You were basically Wonder Woman. 

The tights were your own, thin and black and you could still see there were faint bruises on your knees from training. Once all that was situated, you pulled on the long skirt and tucked in the bottom of your shirt, glad the way the high-waisted design sucked everything in. The skirt was the same golden brown as the cuffs, shorter in the front and wavy as it draped down the back, barely reaching your ankles. You tied the skirt’s belt in a tight bow and pulled on the black boots Shuri had also sent you. The heel was thick and short, and the boot was pretty tight around the top of your ankle. 

Time was ticking on that well-deserved goody basket you were meaning to send to the royal siblings. 

Hoop earrings, three rings dressing your left hand, a simple golden necklace - now you need to do your hair and make-up. 

Steve was just patiently waiting for his turn in the bathroom, bless his heart. 

     “Scott said the files are in his personal belongings. We suspect he’s planning to smuggle over fifty people tomorrow. Their records should be hidden away in those belongings, too.” 

Sam always kept a leveled head in dire situations like these. He was rational and helpful, always waited until the job was done and everyone was safe before he had a drink or a cry. It was safest, perhaps the most fair thing the Avengers could do for the public after destroying half the cities they fought in. The media didn’t need to know about the late-night fights, alcohol poisoning, or frequent therapy sessions. Your coping methods were all different - Steve has no doubt Sam will immediately pack an overnight bag and Bucky to visit his sister and nephews once the wedding concluded. 

Steve? Well, Steve was surprisingly calm, all things considered. 

“You get any hits yet? Anything from Ramirez that could help us find those people sooner?”

Sam sighs sadly, shaking his head. “It’s looking like we’re heading into a full-on fight.”

That’s not what Steve wanted to hear. A ‘full-on’ fight almost always had accidents, misfires, innocent casualties, and a few cuts and scrapes to add to his own personal collection. 

“Sam,” Steve puts down the files in his hand and shuts off his monitor to signal he’s done researching for the night. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

“You know,” Sam smiles at him, “I’m gettin’ real tired hearin’ you say that.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. Sam gently exhales - Steve can feel it. 

“You two really are the same.” Sam points at Steve and to the bathroom door. “Always apologizing for shit you can’t control.”

Steve looks down to his feet, a blush in his pale cheeks. After failing to clip his cufflinks on his own, he holds his arms out to Sam who happily clips them for him. 

“Is it real?”

Steve pauses. He doesn’t really need to think about it because he knows. He’s known for a while even if he was on autopilot. The pause only serves to help him catch his breath from the happy prickle that crawls up his spine. “As real as second chances go.”

Sam laughs and claps his shoulder, “I get it. We seem to get a hell of a lotta those.”

      Now that the mission was truly kicking into gear, fucking full speed ahead, Steve had no other choice but to pull shreds of Captain America from that metaphorical attic of his. Took everything in him to revert back, never fully, and each time would be different from the last. Sometimes it was mentally draining being responsible for a whole team and creating the plans, other times he regretfully felt like a colonizer, an intruder who followed orders from the top and was forced to execute them. This time around, he was stepping into uncharted territory, but still familiar, and he had a million roles to mime. 

“Steeeve.”

His smile was instant and he gravitated to your voice. “Hmm?”

“So, I have an idea for a hairstyle,” you reply, throwing open the bathroom door with a brush in one hand and the other holding the top layers of your hair up. “I got enough hair for it.”

“Tell me about it. It gets in the way of everything.”

“Haha.” You rolled your eyes, still trying to shovel more hair higher. “I curled it, so all I gotta do is tug this upper half up into a ponytail while the rest stays down. But can you help? My shoulders still hurt and I haven’t taken my advil yet.”

Steve shuffles back into the room to grab you two pills before he replaces his hands with yours. “So, just lift it up?”

You hum confirmation, watching Steve in the mirror as he pulled your thick curls higher, snapped the hair tie between his teeth, and tied it all. He pulled the strands outward so the high curls still fell around your face. The hairstyle would have been easier with extensions (for a much fuller look) but if you had to throw your body around these next two days, you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of having them pulled off. 

“Thank you,” you blush. These moments were so intimate, so sweet, just you and Steve. “You need any help?”

Steve looks down at himself. He had already tied his own tie. He could style his own hair and comb his beard. “I think I’m good. Forgot to pack cologne, though.”

“I’ve got some perfume in my suitcase. There should be one in there that isn’t too flowery.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Not really a problem, doll.”

Pulling on his suit jacket and reaching for your suitcase to set it on the bed, he miscalculated the balance he was so obviously lacking. Instead of toppling head first himself, he fumbles your suitcase and spills its contents on your bed. He stills for a second, looking to the closed bathroom door to see if you popped your head through to ask what the hell that sound was. But it remained closed, and Steve silently groaned because of his clumsiness. 

He tries his best to roll the clothing items back in, cursing whenever he would accidentally squeeze a perfume bottle you had hidden in there. He counted three. The one he picks smells like roses.

Amongst the ruins he finds your passport, multiple IDs, and two pairs of sunglasses. He chuckles to himself and thinks, we’ve been here for four days and she hasn’t worn these once.

A torn piece of paper stood out from the pile, folded neatly in its own envelope but still damaged. 

     CLINT

Curious, Steve opens the envelope, wholeheartedly expecting to find the written contents from the archer himself, but pauses when he reads the simple sentence, in your handwriting. 

‘After careful deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that I want you to have all my video games.’

If Steve didn’t know any better, and judging by the multiple other letters peeking through the torn tape from the corner of your suitcase, it sounded like a goodbye letter.

“What’s taking so long?”

Startled, Steve shoves the letter under the pile of clothes. “Uh, my clumsy ass spilled your clothes everywhere so I’m being good and fixing everything.”

“...annoying.”

Still, you stayed inside the bathroom.

He glanced back just to make sure. And he knew he shouldn’t be snooping, the guilt was already eating away at him, but he now noticed the lump under the torn tape and another envelope poking through. 

They were all signed for different people. Bucky, Wanda, Peter, Rhodey - 

The devil on his shoulder drowned the cries of the angel. 

Opening his, he prays for his quick reading skills to aid him before you realized what he was doing.       

Steve, 

     Believe when I say that I thought I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…

I don’t really know why I’m writing these letters besides the thrill of morbidity for my untimely death or because I’m an amateur writer on the side. I never know what to say to you, anyway. Whether it’s in person or on paper. I’ve got a hundred drawn-up speeches in my head I almost say to you. But they don’t come out when I want them to and it seems a bit much to write out the words to several imaginary crumpled pieces of paper. 

This will have to do. 

Steve, I know for a fact, deep in whatever soul I have left, that you are a good man. 

When the world fell apart, I held on to you. I don’t know why. Natasha bugged me about it, sent me those signature smirks of hers whenever we did anything remotely weird. She believed something was going on between us and I would get so angry with her because it was like she saw something I couldn’t. And I wanted to see it. Wrap it up for myself and live in the softness.

You slept by my side when I would ask, you let me look through your private sketchbook to help ease my mind, and you would jump at every chance to shield me from danger. Even when you know I can take care of myself. I don't know how many times I have to remind you. 

I don’t understand why you shut me out after we brought our friends back. And at the time, it hurt like hell. I literally wanted to kill you and then myself. It made no sense, it still doesn’t. I won’t lie and say it still surprises me or that it no longer hurts. ‘Cause I’m numb to it now and the pain is more of a dull ache. 

But I guess you had your reasons, no matter how hurtful, how ridiculous, no matter how stupid. 

Fuck, why didn’t you get some of that life Tony had always wanted for you? The question eats me alive. Maybe you did move on, maybe you would miss us too much, I truly don’t know. When you confessed to wanting some form of that life when we rescued Wanda, it just confused me more.

Then my father basically declared war and you cut me out. I can’t help but think you stayed behind to help me finish this, what with that righteous streak of yours, but if it is the case, then I am so sorry. 

You deserve to live, Steve. 

Guess what I really want to close with is this: find that life you always wanted. Buy a boat, or a cabin in the secluded woods and become a lumberjack, travel, open your own art museum - hell, erase all traces of your identity and sell painted landscapes for a living. 

In any form you find it, just try. You know I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be. 

There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you. 

With as much love in me, 

    The swirl of your name leaves him disoriented, and slightly paralyzed. Steve licks the envelope closed.    

     Steve puts the very existence and contents of your letter to the back of his mind for the time being. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, no time to dissect it word for word. He’ll focus on it later. He still doesn’t know what reaction he should be experiencing. The letter was unexpected, yes, but it’s the matter of you writing a goodbye letter - as if you weren’t going to make it out of here alive. And that about saws Steve in two. 

Steve thinks the elevator comes too fast and wonders what he could do to stop time. The mics on your neck generate enough noise for you to hear the static on the other end. No one is currently online, and Steve cherishes the little moments he’s getting before having to transition into ‘Captain America’ mode. 

There wasn’t much time today to truly bask in the afterglow. The moment the elevator opens Steve literally drags you inside and captures your lips in a rather chaste kiss. It surprises you momentarily but you’re responding, and it’s fluid and familiar. The kiss is brief, but it feels as if your years mold into this single act, and Steve’s smiling wider than he has today when the first thing you say as you part is that maybe you chose the wrong shade of lipstick because it looks too damn dark on his lips.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and he looks over at you one last time in the privacy you’re afforded. He’s got that good ache in his chest again and it’s both calming and a little bittersweet, because staring at you is like staring at the sun - it hurts to look at for a long time but oh, so tempting. 

   The lawn was separated into two halves with only one fully decorated and the other still under a tarp, hidden because it was mid-construction and to not spoil the surprise. Over to the side, just left of the large lake, there was an extra tarp the workers were manning in case the clouds in the sky decided to cry. 

Jackeline had chosen violet as her main color scheme, with golden hues stitched alongside. The flowers, soft lights, marble floor, and desserts were all violet; the curtains and tarps, plates and glasses, flowers on the wall, and Jackeline’s rehearsal dress were all gold. Ernesto must have spent over a million dollars in the decorations alone. 

Everyone donned their best designers and since only family was in attendance today, the little amount of people were easily outdone one right after the other. In total, there were fifteen guests, and that included you and Steve: Ernesto, Seda, the groom’s father, Jackeline’s mother, two of your half-brothers, three aunts (sister’s of Ernesto), two cousins, the maid of honor, and Marcus White. 

They have already fawned over Steve, some with a major guard up as expected, but as Ernesto explains the specifics, everyone becomes more pleased than weary. ‘It was just too good to be true that the Avengers were all good’, someone announces. Steve grips your hand just a little tighter. 

The mere absence of Ramirez was enough of an answer: he really was going to be eliminated.

Across from your private corner, cheers and claps sound as the happy couple finally emerges. Even your father leaves mid-conversation to go greet her. 

She’s a fifties masterpiece. Her dark hair cascades in uneven but gentle layers, framing her face and she’s both glossy and matte. Her skin is darker and her eyebrows are fuller, widow’ peak and strong jaw, thin neck and perfectly rounded shoulders. She has a painted blush on her high cheekbones, dark eyeshadow and a faint cat eye, and the reddest, fullest lips that are already spitting wit as she greets her more serious guests. Her voice is high but steady and she’s so obviously the center of attention, she’s the literal bride, but you bet she could take over the room even if she wasn’t. Her fiancé, surprisingly enough, trails behind her as if he too is in a trance, greeting the same guests and attempting to match her enthusiasm. She’s making herself known, and she’s succeeding.

It isn’t until she locks her sight on you that Steve finally mumbles a quiet ‘woah’ underneath a shaky breath and you can’t blame him, dear god you can’t, because seeing her for the first time in six years is eating away at you. She’s nineteen, young and sweet, and still trapped in the world you were planning to destroy.   

Her first reaction is to run into your arms and hold you tightly, the force swinging you from side to side. Her giggles are contagious and you find yourself reacting similarly, grip tightening as she begins to ramble about how much she missed you and how proud she is that you have saved the world ten times over. The statement is overwhelming, but you find yourself nodding along in place of anything verbal.

Steve is patient as he witnesses this family reunion, standing at your side with respect and a tint of scarlet staining his cheeks. Finally, Jackeline turns to greet him and for a scary second, Steve sees Peggy.

“No way!” She keeps her voice low. “I could have sworn my bit-... uh, my bunch of tias were lying about you really being here.”

Steve shakes the fifties image from his head. The resemblance, even if Jackeline has more slanted eyes and a larger forehead, is uncanny. “Thank you so much for inviting us. The ride up was a bitch but we made the most of it.”

Jackeline stutters over her own laugh. “Oh.” She looks to you with a wide grin. “Oh, he’s a keeper.”

“Thought so myself,” you grin back. “You should hear him swear during a football game.”

“All men turn into animals when their teams don’t live up to expectations.”

Her accent is thicker than yours. Living in New York for over 10 years definitely helped smooth over some dialect and create your own voice. But Jackeline’s, considering she had never lived outside of Mexico, was thick and silky and resembled a place you no longer called home.

She pulls the man behind her forward, effectively interrupting and ending the conversation he was having with one of your cousins. “This is Julian. Julian, this is my one and only sister and her boyfriend!”

Julian, bless his heart, holds out a slightly shaking hand for you to shake. You do so, and try to convey calmness through it. When you watch his glance fall to Steve and feel his hand start to shake yours more rapidly, you can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“It’s an honor!” Julian finally says, voice deep and wracked with some nerves. He shakes Steve’s hand when he gets the chance. “Captain.”

“Please,” Jackeline rolls her eyes. “He’s just like us! You should be swooning over my sister, who is probably going to be the one to kill you if you ever hurt me.”

Julian blinks. His eyes go from Steve to you, contemplating his next move without wanting to seem rude. He nods in your direction. “I don’t doubt you would. Excuse me if I came off as rude. I’m just starstruck by this one here, is all.”

His accent matches Jackeline’s.

Steve waves his hand through the air. “You are not the first tonight, son.”

Sometimes you forget that Steve is an old man. Biologically, he’s in his mid-thirties. Ever changing and growing old as normal, but his soul is old. From a different time and out of it. The mere nickname he just gave Julian, no doubt because of his young age, leaves you averting your eyes and turning away to smile up at one of the many golden chandeliers.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight. The party may seem small right now, but trust me, half of Mexico will be dancing with us tomorrow night.” Jackeline bounces in place, hand intertwining with Julian’s, and she leans in to speak more clearly with you. “Meet me later? We have so much to catch up on.”

Agreeing, you watch the happy couple leave to converse with the few other guests.

Steve turns toward you, eyes squinted in amusement. “Is she really cheating on him with a man of the cloth?”

You can’t help the involuntary snort that leaves your nose. “The photos were watermarked, right? Time stamped? Maybe they’re old.”

Steve huffs a laugh and grabs two champagne glasses as the tray flies by him. “She’s got a way about her. Reminds me of a dame from this book I read a while back.”

Sipping your drink, you ponder. “What book?”

“The one where the dude gets shot at the end.”

“Oh, you mean every book from the 20th century?”

Steve laughs, “That twenties one!”

Mouth dropping, you push at his chest and turn to walk away. “You did not just compare her to Daisy from The Great Gatsby!”

Steve follows. “That’s the one! Honest! She has this way about her!”

    It’s not long after a few dances and photographs that you’re all seated for the actual dinner. There are three long tables, two parallel to each other and the main one perpendicular. You don’t know if it’s a power move or whatever, but your name cards are placed on one of the parallel tables. But it doesn’t bother you much since you have a front view of Seda and your father. 

Dinner is a six-course meal. Not that you assumed any different - Ernesto really went all out for his youngest child (that you know of). Your mics are picking up conversations left and right so you’re actually able to enjoy the meal. Salad, soup, a weird looking appetizer that’s actually quite delicious, the main course of either chicken/fish/or steak, and two desserts. All throughout, Steve is actually having the time of his life being fed so well. 

“Answer me this,” Steve leans in to whisper in your ear. “Are those hearts or paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling?”

You smiled against the ridge of your champagne glass, “You mean those clay flowers?”

“Is that what they are?” He pauses for a long second, squinting.

“Are your eyes going bad?” 

“Eyes don’t go bad.”

Your mouth falls open. “Your eyes are going bad!”

“Again,” Steve holds up a finger. “My eyes are just fine, not bad.”

Something else to add to that list you had made in the morning.

“This is fucking fantastic.”

Steve, still trying to casually squint, huffs. “Annoying...”

You bump his shoulder and lean in to whisper quietly. “Turns you on.”

Steve just blushes.

    It’s like he forgets where he is for a second, what with the great food and surprisingly good conversation with one of your brothers beside him. Steve’s already built a much stronger rapport with the thirty-something year old man than you have. There’s a stab of guilt for a second, a need to duck and drown in shame, when you realize you can’t even remember his name.

Ernesto stands to announce toasts. His is brief and not all that fatherly, but it’s the longest you’ve heard him string some nice words together. Seda follows, brief as well, and includes a childhood anecdote about her. Jackeline’s mother is a young woman, somewhere between forty and fifty, and her toast is only a sentence long - ‘Solo quiero que estas contenta, mi amor.’ For the first time tonight, Bucky voices his thoughts over the mic with a quiet and sad sounding hum.

Ernesto lifts himself from his chair, swatting away his men who go to help him. He has the microphone again and he’s walking toward you, face neutral. You know better than to refuse in front of this big of a crowd. Steve squeezes your hand before you stand and he remains beaming up at you from his seat. 

You’ve seen it in the movies - raise the glass, say some words, end it nicely. It’s what you do. But it feels surreal, almost unnerving when you don’t recognize the faces looking back at you. 

     “Here’s to you,” you lift your champagne glass, looking around at the happy yet solemn faces at the small table. 

“You deserve all the happiness available to you. You are so lucky to have each other,” you finish the toast and drink your whole glass. There is no applause, just sad smiles in response. You’re not asking for much, you never had.

Tony and Pepper share a quick kiss, thanking everyone around the table quickly as the two cakes are being cut. Their wedding was limited, with only a few people in attendance. Whoever was left. Tony’s cabin could obviously accommodate more people, but he had only requested the gathering of those he could stomach to see. But when that turned out to only be Pepper and Happy, he was forced to open the doors to more. 

So, you accepted your chocolate cake from Rhodey as he handed it to you. Shared some quick chit-chat with Steve and Natasha; greeted Thor as he made his first appearance in a while, hair now longer and baggy clothes hanging from his body, a tortured smile on his aging face; and sat through Happy’s own speech, enjoying his refreshing and joyful attitude. 

But now you stood in front of the kitchen sink, staring at the hidden picture frame behind the mugs - a reminder of what was really missing from this special day. 

You studied Peter’s awkward smile and demeanor, his expression youthful and frozen in time. He became foggy, silver clouds blotting his cheeks and his hair went white, and soon the sink sounded with a tiny ‘clunk!’ as you wept silently. 

You felt a hand slide into your own, squeezing with care and understanding. You looked up to see Steve, his eyes watching your face. He gave you one more gentle squeeze, the same tortured smile as Thor’s on his beautiful face, and walked to his room to retire for the night. 

     Glass raised in the air, you swallow in hopes of not choking over any word because of your nerves. 

“Here’s to you,” you start, already deciding this was going to be like pulling a band-aid. “May this world treat you kind, and that you are kind to each other, and that it’s all that matters.”

Steve forgets to drink. He can’t seem to shake the feeling of wanting to cry.

     Everyone watches as Steve leads you onto the dance floor which is intimidating with its glittering violet light and marble that resembles polished glass. If these were the decorations for the rehearsal dinner, Steve can’t even begin to bet on how tomorrow’s going to look. 

Steve holds you close, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other framing your spine. It’s like a tight hug. “Do you enjoy dancing?”

You step on his foot once again. “Shut up, Steve. Tell me your real thoughts.”

“Who, me?”

“Steve.”

“You suck at dancing.”

“There it is.”

     It isn’t hard to sneak away once everyone piles onto the dance floor. Steve shares a few dances with your aunts before excusing himself to use the bathroom. 

The mission itself goes rather smoothly. Infiltrating and collecting information was childsplay. Amateur. You’ve done it a thousand times and your father isn’t exactly a tech wizard. Neither is Seda. 

You find the electronic bank records Scott couldn’t yesterday, as well as a detailed spreadsheet (more like a hitlist) dating ten years back. In the same file, this actually only slightly encrypted (slightly), are the names of high-level players involved. It’s color-coded, some names familiar because of their involvement with Hydra, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you notice that red means eliminated, black means still at large, and blue means ally. 

There’s a lump in your throat as you scroll through and find Steve’s name, thankfully in blue. It’s expected, so you simply move on, until you find yours. And it’s in black. 

It should terrify you, have you running for the hills and tucking your tail between your legs but you’re won’t because Steve’s name is blue. 

That’s all that matters. 

There’s still no concrete information about the shipment, nothing online or on a loose post-it note. It’s non-existent and that’s suspicious and you don’t know why you don’t voice that to Steve. He’s listening at the door and responding to Sam’s questions. You and Scott are the hackers of the group after all. 

You scan through drawers and cabinets, snapping photos of things you can’t take just yet and filing the papers you can. Papers detailing contracts and miscellaneous connections: lawyers, doctors, politicians, police. Once that’s done, you shrink the evidence to the size of a fingernail with the help of Scott’s tech and hide it in your bra. 

Surprisingly enough, the two of you are able to slip out of the office and the first couple living rooms undetected. Until Jackeline herself appears, pulling down her dress as she exits the bathroom. Steve, stunned by the presence of anyone, pulls you toward his chest with unfocused strength. You hiss loudly and naturally go to cup your injured elbow. It takes a moment for Steve to realize what he’s done and who he’s done it to. 

Jackeline nearly stumbles over her heels out of pure clumsiness but her mouth parts as she notices you and the harsh sound you make. If she truly saw or heard anything, she’s keeping it to herself it seems. 

“Ernesto wanted to see me before we called it a night,” Steve says, letting go of your arm and taking a step back. He doesn’t outright say he’s sorry; he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. So he braves a smile, sends you a look, and excuses himself. 

No conversation ever comes naturally - or, rather they take at least minimal effort from either party. You say the first thing you can think of and that’s to congratulate her again. 

Your rambling sort of sounds like the toast you gave earlier, but Jackeline either doesn’t want to embarrass you or simply doesn’t notice. She waits for the pause in your voice before she finally speaks.

“Before I start, don’t hate me for this.”

“That’s not a good way to start a sente-” Your face is smacked to the side absurdly hard and you can feel the sting at the base of your neck. You look back at your sister with wide eyes.

“You couldn’t leave the world dead? He was finally dead!”

Baffled, you rub at your sore cheek. “Why am I the one getting the most blame for that? I followed a fucking raccoon around and I didn’t even snap my fingers!”

“Sorry,” she blinks, eyebrows scrunching as she thinks of the next thing to say. “Sorry, I just… it was that easy to kill him and then he just… wasn’t.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you were also dead.”

“I was.”

“And we brought back trillions.”

“I know.”

Never once did you wonder what your siblings might have thought. More than half of them were separated from this life, while a few remained and conquered their allowed sectors. Ernesto had never discussed which of his children would take over his seat. But when he was dusted and Seda assumed power, it was clear not one sibling wanted anything to do with it. Or they were just too scared to outright disobey Seda and his tyranny.

Jackeline stands tall, shoulders straight and chin held high. She didn’t seem to worry about the repercussions of her actions - she knows who you are and what you are capable of. The smack seemed deliberate but restrained.

“So?” It’s the only word you can muster up.

“Please don’t judge me.” Her confidence falters and her eyebrows push down even further. “I know you know.”

“You gotta spell it out because I know a lot of things.”

Sighing deeply, she grabs the hand you’re using to rub at your cheek. She grips it tightly as she speaks. “I love him. But he’s impossible to love now and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh, Jackeline…”

You could have contacted her. You were on social media - you could have followed her, maybe messaged her annually - hell, called her once in a while to simply check in. The ticket you got was always a temporary one: go to school and find a way to make the trade routes easier to travel. School finished, you found Fury, and you created an alternate identity and background plan to trick your family into doing just what they ordered. And during all that time, Jackeline was barely in her pre-teens, probably scared and alone and missing her only sister. This was just you throwing that smack out of proportion but there was truth in it all. Wasn’t there?

“Julian’s okay. I agreed to this arranged marriage. I’m sure I can grow to love him,” she shrugs, biting her lip as it begins to quiver.

Her eyes are no longer happy - perhaps that was the wrong word to use after she had just confided in you about the reality of her upcoming union. But they definitely seem more dull in comparison to the joyfulness she presented earlier tonight.

“Jackeline, you don’t have to-”

“No, I was gone those five years. He had to move on.” You drop your shoulders and lean forward to give her a hug. No matter how badly you wanted to wrap your hands around Ernesto’s neck, they had more use tenderly wrapped around your sister. 

Relishing the feeling for only a moment longer, Jackeline is ignited once again. “Besides, I should be telling you that! I saw the way that… that fascist pulled you. If he’s hurting you, I’ll kill him.”

Your eyes must be bulging out of your head. “Oh.” 

She looks at you as if you’re going to admit abuse and confide in her like she did you. “No, it’s okay. Steve’s perfect, he’s… wonderful.”

Jackeline shakes her head rapidly, “Don’t you lie to me. I know what I saw.”

“I’m not lying. But you gotta trust me. I’ll explain later-”

“Explain what?”

Seda breaks the conversation and you forget to curse inwardly. Instead, a mumbled ‘fuck’ is heard. It only serves to fuel the flame. Jackeline flashes a rehearsed smile, and she truly is your sister because for a sad moment she looks exactly like you.

“Explain why she never returned my calls to be my maid of honor! I swear, this one is always so busy she forgets I exist!”

“She is,” Seda agrees, grinning like he already knows what the original conversation was about. “Always busy.” 

Jackeline keeps the same smile and is about to continue fanning the flames when Seda interrupts again. “Jackie, your father wanted me to speak with your sister alone for a moment. It has to do with tomorrow’s shipment.”

“Yes, of course. Don’t keep her for too long, okay? Tomorrow’s a late start but we all need our beauty sleep.” Jackeline leaves and fails to look over her shoulder to double check on you.

Seda steps closer, arms swinging casually like he’s pondering the possibilities of what he could do without Steve present. But instead of focusing solely on him, you listen to the soft sound of Bucky’s voice through the mic as he tells you that he’s listening in and he’s here.

“What did she say to you?”

“Is it really any of your business?”

He snaps immediately, gripping your cheeks in one hand so you can’t move your head. “When will you learn to keep your goddamn mouth shut around me?”

“You asked.” Smacking his hand away would have been frowned upon before, but not anymore. Free reign if need be. “Besides, when will you learn that that will never happen?”

“You can’t believe anything she tells you. Ernesto’s only two daughters are mistakes, both threats to his reign. Never submissive, always asking questions-”

You grunt almost comically, “Men and their irrational fears of women… What did I ever do to you?”

He pauses and you notice how his angry eyes always seem to water from his frustration. “You brought him back.”

“I also brought back trillions.”

“You know,” his face does something unpleasant. “Before Jackeline was dusted, she had been seeing that priest.”

“How could you possibly know-”

“He was so devastated by her loss. Found God, became a changed man.”

“Seda, what are you playing at?”

“She came back.” He lifts one finger. “He couldn’t resist.” He raises another. “Didn’t take long for Ernesto to find out.” The third one is the last, and he mimics a small explosion as he concludes. “But don’t worry, we took care of him.”

You never once believed the Devil was this angry, red demon with horns atop his head and a sharp tail, voice booming as he ruled the underworld with the weapons of pain and suffering. He didn’t possess or haunt random places. If anything, the Devil himself was simply a metaphor, a representation of the evil in a living world. It only made people comfortable to create an image, no matter how ridiculous.

Once you even thought the Devil was Hades, and he wasn’t all that bad when it truly came down to the root of all problems. He oversaw the underworld but he didn’t take life, he didn’t cause the pain, he simply watched and ruled. That maybe Hades was real considering Thor was, and he was just chilling in the underworld bored out of his mind.

But the evil the Devil represented was a constant in this world already, in your life from start to finish, and Seda’s eyes held something unspeakable. Dark brown eyes almost black, left cheek twitching with the urge to smile grotesquely, the tense nature of his broad shoulders. He was no massive man, a few inches taller than you, but he was a giant in a world in which Hades lacked and the Devil persisted.

“But Julian-”

Seda scoffs, “Julian was her rebound. Got mixed up in the business, with Ernesto  - but I don’t doubt he loves Jackeline.”

You’re this close to breaking the man’s fingers. He doesn’t stop counting his supposed triumphs. “When were the pictures taken?”

“Don’t do that,” he laughs as he finally steps away from you. “Ask your real question.”

Your smile was involuntary. So was Seda’s. It was the one thing you had in common: smiling at things that weren’t funny. “Did you threaten him? Torture him? Kill him yet?”

“... Jackeline will never know.”

Your mouth parts slowly like you’re still digesting his words. “You unimaginable bastard.”

If you had to bet, you would have placed all your money on Ernesto being the giant to fear. He had hurt you in countless ways, used you and discarded what he didn’t like, put you in the line of fire for his own gain. He had taken pleasure in knowing you hurt, in knowing what you had lost and suffered. He mocked your sacrifice time and time again. And there was a sentence you had never uttered out loud for fear of what you might do, or what anyone hearing you might do, that Ernesto had said one chilly November night only a year after the world returned. It was a thought so suppressed you almost always forgot it had been real. ‘A shame the Widow did what she did - what an unbelievable asset wasted over something pointless.’

No one outside your circle could possibly understand. They didn’t have to - but to dismiss the main reason he was retaking his tainted throne... insanity. 

But something in Seda’s voice moved even the most dormant areas in your soul. The giant was a man with nothing and everything to lose but with the power to choose which. Staring at him for too long prompted an uncomfortable sting across your waterline like his glare burned. Such a normal looking man with short dark hair and an aging face. He stared at you with a set look, one that told you he knew something you didn’t. Like he controlled giants even bigger than him. He wasn’t Hades, who restrained himself and hid in the shadows of a world he was forced to rule - he was the Devil’s metaphor, with red strains licking his tan skin and eyes sharp enough to puncture.

With a small tilt of his head and a strangled grin, he finally turns to leave. “Have a safe drive home.”

     After saying a quick goodbye to Jackeline and securing the estate, you hurried to get to your car and leave. Ernesto had just sent you a quick nod of the head and reminded Steve he needed to see him again before the wedding started. All your leftover energy literally went into pulling open the passenger door. 

Out of instinct now, you wait until the car is past the gates and a good mile from the hidden entrance before speaking freely.

“We get everything?”

The night is dark and you can barely see the outline of the trees. The sky is covered with gray clouds and there are no lampposts to provide light. It’s really just your headlights. “I think so. I think.”

Steve can sense the hesitancy in your answer. “What’s wrong?”

You shake with an exaggerated shiver, “Seda was being creepy… just more than usual.”

“What do you mean?” Steve was probably communicating and online with Sam during his conversation with Ernesto and completely missed the one you had with Seda.

“Fuckin’ didn’t think it could get weirder, but Jackeline mentioned how this was basically an arranged marriage and then Seda,” you stop suddenly. The uneasiness was creeping back. 

“An arranged marriage? Fuck, what else is this mission going to throw at us?”

‘Captain?’

Steve’s hands accidentally swerve the steering wheel as response to the small fright. “... Was that your phone or mine?”

You fumbled through your mini purse for your phone. “Me. Hey? Friday?”

‘The one and only. I hope that didn’t frighten you because I really need your attention right about now.’

Steve chuckles, eyes straight ahead as he drives. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

‘My readings are picking up something strange. The vehicle, even if I’m not able to virtually connect, seems to be stalling.’ Torres did curse you two before you left for renting a car made before 2013.

“What do you mean? It’s working just fine.” 

You set your phone down on the dash to start looking around the interior of the car.

‘The pedal, yes Captain. But I’m afraid my readings are focused on the brakes.’

You bite your tongue and scrunch up your nose. What else could possibly happen tonight? “That’s always fun to hear, great. Greaaaat.”

“Friday, what are you picking up?” Steve’s voice is more stern and even if he’s not doing it on purpose, he’s trying to ignore your coping mechanism of joking during dire situations.

‘It seems that when they took the vehicle for parking, they attached something to the brake lines. Sort of like a trigger sensor. Do not slow down.’

“We’re stuck? We can’t stop?”

‘Everytime the Captain de-accelerates, the sensor heats up. That’s what my readings are.’

“Fuck,” you unclipped your seatbelt and turned your body toward Steve. “Fuck!”

“Friday, what do we do?” The least Steve could do is be the level-headed one here.

‘Exactly what you’re thinking, Captain. The shield’s in the trunk.’

“We can’t exactly get to it!” You don’t mean to scream at Friday. You’re sure she’s used to adrenaline induced attacks guided toward her and never about her.

‘The burners were produced by Stark Industries for our very own spy unit. They are equipped with a taser, flashlight, and laser.’

Jumping so your feet were planted firmly on the passenger seat, you make sure everything is in place: the stolen files, your gun, your phone, and earpiece. “Keep your foot on that pedal, Rogers. I don’t feel like blowing up tonight.”

He releases a shaky breath, hands turning pale from the grip he has on the steering wheel. “You and me both.”

“Friday?” Your voice is only slightly timid, but you manage to move your body out from the front seats and to the back.

‘The laser, Agent Y/LN. Cut through the seats.’

Nodding along to her instructions, you search for the burner under your skirt and unstrap it from the holster. Pulling its ancient antenna outward, Friday verbally guides you through the very simple instruction. The laser blasts out unexpectedly at first making you squeal, which in turn causes Friday (a literal AI) to chuckle. You’re thankful the antenna was facing the back seats already.

“Doing good back there?”

You respond with a low grunt as you carefully carve out the largest rectangle you can create. “You better have shoved the thing close. Any stop signs up ahead?”

Steve’s getting worried now, but instead of putting you more on edge, he hides it pretty well. “Thank god this place is in the middle of nowhere.”

You don’t even give his response acknowledgement as you finally pull the leather, metal, and weird cushion filling away and spot the shield. “I got it, got it, got it.”

‘My sensors suggest you’ll have a good five seconds to escape the vehicle once the Captain releases the pedal.’

You make sure your hair is in the tightest ponytail known to man and that your skirt is bunched up in your free arm. You strap the shield onto the other. “Steve, you gonna be alright?”

His eyes are still focused on the road, but he braves a look in the mirror back at you. His voice is stern but not demanding. “I know you hate the damn shield but bend your legs, jump sideways, and tuck your head.”

“Yeah,” you nod along. Damn straight you’ll put your hate aside for one second if it’s here to save your life. “You better jump on time, you understand me?”

“Sam,” Steve keeps the speed steady and tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding from the sound of you kicking open the back door. “Sam, Widow. Widow.”

Before you jump, the asphalt a never ending, rapid glare of absolute darkness, you leave your phone on the seat in case Steve still needs her. “Friday, send Sam and Torres our location. They’re the only ones who can fly in undetected. Tell them what you told us.”

‘Will do, Agent Y/LN.’

“Be careful.”

You smirk at him, “Don’t be a hero and crash this one into the ice, yeah?”

You don’t wait for his reaction and instead take the plunge. The shield makes a hard impact with the asphalt down below, screeching for what seems like an eternity before slowing down. You did as instructed: knees tucked into your chest as far as you were able, head doing the same. By the time the ride finally ends and you’ve gone partially deaf, you can make out the sound of a loud explosion a close distance away. The heat from the sudden burst of wind nips at your face. You’ve also gone partially blind. 

Your poor boots are definitely ruined and there’s a faint tell of a bruised ankle in the works. The arm attached to the shield will also need to be popped back into place - it shouldn’t feel this loose. Luckily, your head and torso were completely unscathed. 

Lifting yourself up the best you could without straining anything too much, you noticed the car still in flames but driven off the road. 

“He jumped, he jumped, he jumped,” you repeat, limping as quickly as you could, shield still attached to your arm. The closer you get the clearer everything becomes, regardless of the smoke. “Steve.”

You squint through the orange light and the dark of night. The fire wasn’t all that loud in its crackles and it doesn’t take you long to realize while tapping your ears that you lost your earpiece. 

“Steve,” you try again, adrenaline still pumping but panic seeping in. As if on cue, you can make out his body laying far away from the car relatively unharmed. “Ah, shit.” You drop down on your knees and wince involuntarily. Slapping his cheeks doesn’t wake him up, neither does gently shaking him. You don’t want to do anything to hurt him more. 

The sound of gravel popping kicks you back into spy mode. Hide. This was a hit, of course it was, and they were coming to see their job done. 

“You so owe me,” you groan as you unstrap the shield to throw it into the woods, the faint tell of it hitting a tree enough to make you work faster. You hook your arms underneath Steve’s armpits and bend your knees, breathing in deeply and out a few times before pulling him with all your strength. There’s pain shooting up your arm but you try to ignore it. Small whimpers escape you as you pull harder and finally make it a good distance from the wreckage. You sit Steve, still unconscious, behind one of those massive pine trees and sit next to him after retrieving the shield. 

It’s only two black SUV’s that come to check their hard work. They’re bending down and using their own fire extinguishers, snapping their own photos, the works. It isn’t until Seda walks over to admire the wreckage that you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. 

You’re seated in front of Steve now with the shield in front of you when a sudden movement to your left startles you. Before you scream, however, a hand covers your mouth. 

“Shh, shh.” Sam. Your eyes fill with tears. 

“I’ve got him. Torres is coming for you, alright? I’m the only one who can carry him out.”

It doesn’t take much to convince you. You’re silently helping Sam strap Steve against his chest as Seda and his men are now investigating the woods. You can hear them close, cursing and yelling about finding you. 

“Go a little further. Down there,” Sam points in front of you. “Torres is parked and waiting. Go.”

“Don’t drop him.” Sam stifles his laugh. 

You follow his directions, limping as quickly as you can, and finally find Torres, your second knight in shining armor of the night. 

    After an all clear from the medical team, Steve is left alone in your hotel room to rest. He still hasn’t woken up but Helen isn’t worried since his scans show no major damage. Small talk with the rest of the team fills in the time but it’s like you’re not really there, merely a participant on a loop. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you’re covered in scratches and smoky ash and you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kill something. 

Your father wanted you dead. And showing up to the wedding was just going to anger him more but it had to be done. But you were tired, so fucking tired, tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep or rest.

You let your hair down but stay in your tattered clothing, making yourself useful as best you can. You answer questions, you review footage, you draft up some reports. Bucky tries to sit you down at one point, but he backs off when you simply shake your head and give him that famous broken smile. 

You’re sitting at your desk trying to save some of your phone’s cloud through the connected email. Sam has already ordered you a new phone. On the computer to your left, you’re scanning and uploading the files you stole tonight. On the right, your little butterfly is transcribing conversations from yesterday. 

The transcription is finished before the uploads. It prints. 

SEDA: ‘Ernesto needs to know how many more women we can get from Jonathon. I thought you said your Italian contact was up to date?’

UNKNOWN: ‘He is. But the women are coming from here instead. Got a load of ten just now.’

SEDA: ‘The shipment goes out during the wedding. Not before, not after. We can’t fuck this up for Ernesto and we cannot have the stars and stripes finding out.’

UNKNOWN: ‘Ernesto plans to mention it to him tomorrow.’

SEDA: ‘Then make sure he keeps quiet about it.’

The bitter taste in your mouth returns and you have to run to the nearest bathroom.

     Steve wakes just an hour after, disoriented but able to discern who he is. “What happened?”

You’re standing at the foot of his bed, having just got there a few minutes before, practically on the verge of tears. “... Did you know?”

There it was. Any hope of truly coming to terms with this new world order or his role in it, any hope of feeling like he did before he succumbed to the American war propaganda and became a science experiment, crumbling before him. The heavy weight that were your shoulders, crumbling like shaky mountains. His own, tense and straining and urging him to get out of bed. 

He’s been in the trenches when the smell of gas and blood clogged his nostrils and made him dizzy. He’s experienced loss a thousand times over, just heinous instances of despair where he swore he was torn in two. He’s lost on his own accord and pretended like the world was still on its axis. 

And he knew his time was up. He just thought he’d have more than a day to enjoy it.  “I was going to tell you.”

It’s like the air is punched out of you. “You knew?”

“Please, listen, please,” he scrambles out of bed.

“What the fuck, Rogers?”

“Ramirez told us yesterday. I swear I only found out yesterday. Yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” You’re stepping away from him. He’s almost on his hands and knees and you’re stepping away from him. “Before?”

Steve makes a pained noise. “Yes, but please-”

“No! You kept this to yourself and you had the fucking audacity to share the same bed as me?”

“Please, let me explain-” He tries to reach out but you side-step him. He reacts like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t touch me, Steve!”

“Please, just let me explain. We all know - Bucky, Sam, Torres, we all know.”

Your face does something he’s never seen it do. “Fuck?”

He’s talking faster now, words just spilling on the floor and into the air and he doesn’t know what else to do. “We’re tracking it. We have a plan set. We were supposed to tell you tomorrow before the wedding.” He stops to take in a breath. “I was going to tell you.”

“You went behind my back.”

“If I would have told you, you would have done something horrible tonight! We need your father alive to find those people!”

Eyes wide in shock and anguish, you step further away from him. Each step was the equivalent of a dagger plunging deep into Steve’s heart, twisting and burning its way to the depths of his vulnerability. He wanted to succumb to the pain - after all, he deserved it.

“That would have been my choice to make!”

Now he pushed forward, shoulders hunched and palms turned upward as if he was pleading for a crumb of understanding. “I was gonna kill him.”

He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist. You remained perfectly still, a tree stump with no cover. “I was gonna shoot him between the eyes when I first found out. But if I had done that, then we would never know the location of those people.”

His weight was pulling you down and you felt his wet cheek against your stomach. “I deserved to know.”

His grip tightened, “You did. But if you would have known-”

“I would have known. Period.”

He had to know how much he weighed. But Steve leaned his body onto yours harder, afraid you would vanish and god forbid turn to dust. It didn’t really register in his mind that, even though he was holding you in place, you weren’t exactly trying to escape his hold either. 

He had let you go once and he’ll be goddamned if he let you go again. 

“It ate me alive. I hated doing this-”

You pushed against his shoulders and sensed his reluctance to let go. Instead, you look down at him and tense your jaw. “Steve, you don’t hate me, do you?”

His face dropped and his grip loosened. You should just slap him across the face, Steve thinks, because how in the world were you thinking that at this moment? Never did he think you would find a way to twist this - to somehow blame yourself for his mistake. Took a long time to see it, but you were just as righteous as he was. It would get you both killed someday. 

“Why do you think that? What in the world would make you think that after all this time? After everything?”

He lets you push him away so he could stand but he makes sure to keep his hands on you. A tangible promise that you are real. 

“You agreed to help me catch a drug lord. You didn’t sign up for this extra mess.”

“We may not always know what we’re up against,” Steve began, sniffing and wiping at his wet face. God, he felt like such a mess. “But I could never fucking hate you. Don’t even think that.”

“You sure?” your voice cracks, hands slightly shaking from the need to touch him too. “Captain America didn’t sign up for this.”

He shakes his head almost violently, “No, no. Don’t go there. I am not him, I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“Steve-”

“No! I’ve hated the title for a while now. I’m done. I’ve hated my reflection for years and years.” The tiny whine in the middle of your throat gurgled and your hands moved instantly to cup his cheeks.  “I represent no one but myself. I’m tired of others thinking I’m the same man from ten years ago, or the same man from the forties, or the same man from last week just because they’re enamored by that star on my chest.”

He tilts his head to lean into your touch, “I am helping you because it’s the honorable thing to do. I signed up for this work, I intend to finish it. Not Captain America, but me - Steve, me.”

“You’re still making me feel like it’s something you have to do.”

“I admit that I was never overly fond of the idea of being wrapped up in this,” Steve admits, hands now cupping yours over his cheeks. “But toppling this empire will keep you safe.”

As heartwarming as that sounded, you broke the fantasy. “The minute we take the giants out, they’ll elect someone new.”

“But we take the giants out. The giants that hurt you.”

He’s right, like always. 

“Steve,” you say quietly, bringing his face closer to kiss away his tears. You’re struggling to keep the tippy-toes and your ankle is screaming for a break, but you persist. “You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“No more secrets.”

“None, I swear, I promise.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you make sure his eyes are locked on yours before you speak. “I’m not walking away this time. I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

Steve’s mouth releases a big burst of air like he was holding it in, and he wraps you in a hug that promises the same.

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess​ @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

A/N: Wooooo that took forever lol xxMoni

#captainsimagines #steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #avengers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers fanfic #to topple #a giant #by Moni #part seven #chapter seven #mini-series #trigger warnings listed #steve x reader #marvel fanfiction #mob fanfic #eventual romance #eventual smut #flashback fanfic #avengers x you

[harrysgloves]

Trouble (college roommate!AU)

>>>Catch up with master list here!<<<

word count: 4.5k

story summary: You’re nothing but trouble and Harry can’t help the fact that he wants a taste.

warnings: LANGUAGE (feel like everyone reading me shouldn’t be surprised by this) // girl on girl smut (oral sex) // Bisexual character.

a/n: Figured my next fic should be a bit different then the last but let me warn you now that this will have a bisexual MC and many bisexual/gay supporting characters if this offends you this is not the story for you! 

Also, you may disagree with a lot of the shit the MC does and you’re more than welcome to not read at any point if you get uncomfortable. 

>>><<<

"Fuck this." Rose, your part-time fuckbuddy and full time best friend, groaned from the armchair you were leaning back against. She threw her notebook down on the living room floor. It landed directly beside you causing you to look up from your own notes, turning your head slightly to see her long blonde hair flowing down the side of the armrest, her bright eyes that you loved so much staring off at the ceiling making you smile.

"Yeah, this sucks." You agreed as you laid down on the floor, hands covering your face. You thought college meant fun and freedom not crying about some test you definitely weren't prepared for the next day.

For it being your second semester, you still weren’t any way prepared for the shit show that was college. You hated waking up early, hated studying, the only thing you were good at? Partying, but you tried your best to at least semi-pass your classes so your parents didn’t murder you when you came back home for the holidays.

“We should be strippers.” Rose said, snapping you out of your thoughts with a laugh. Turning your head to look at her daydreaming about the good life of not having to study for a math test ever again.

Which was dumb anyway because you weren’t even majoring in anything that required math so you didn’t understand why you still had to take core classes. Especially since you had to pay for the classes you weren’t even going to use in the future.

“Might need to if I fail this test.” You sighed, eyes staring up at the ceiling of your shitty on-campus apartment that you loved so much because it was your first one. Even if the tap in the kitchen dripped all night long and the washer and dryer didn’t work half the time. It was still yours, well, and your roommates but you liked him so it wasn’t that big of a deal to share your space.

He was a friend of a friend who always seemed to be hanging around your little group all the time anyway so when he needed a place to live and you had an extra room it was a no brainer. It didn’t hurt that he wasn’t the worst to look at when he walked around in just a towel after his shower.

Plus, he let you decorate how you wanted and cleaned up after himself. In your book, he was a pretty great roommate. A lot better than your last.

“Yeah, it’s time for a break.” Rose said as she rolled off your navy blue chair onto the white rug that took up most of your living room floor.

She crawled over to you, straddling your hips, her red denim skirt riding up her tanned tattooed thighs as she smiled so innocently down to you, her sun-kissed blonde hair tickling your face as she leaned over you. Her hands resting on either side of your head.

“You gotta stop stealing my clothes.” You complained, hands rubbing up and down her thighs before tugging gently on the skirt that used to be yours but was now apparently hers.

“No way. It’s why I’m your friend.” She smiled as you rolled your eyes, letting out an annoyed huff.

“That's the only reason?” You questioned eyes focusing back on her irritatingly smiling face. She hummed pondering your question, knowing it was pissing you off the longer she took to answer you.

“Oh, well you also buy me lunch.” She giggled as you tried to push her off you. Your hands gripping her hips as you pushed.

“Okay! Okay!” She laughed loudly, hands grabbing yours to stop you. “You’re also good in bed. There’s that too.”

“That’s it. You’re buying lunch for a month.” You muttered, eyes drifting away from her. She could be such a brat when she wanted to be.

Of course, that’s what you liked best about her.

“Not happening! You’re the one with a hot daddy buying your shit. We gotta use that black credit card while we can before the money train stops.” She pouted, her perfect dusty rose painted lip sticking out and all.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to give my money to someone else.” You laughed as she sat up, faking being shocked, knowing damn well you wouldn’t ever tell her no. Especially when it came to money.

Rose didn’t have nearly the nice life growing up like you did. She didn’t have the nice parents or the nice 4 bedroom house with a white picket fence. No, she had many reasons to be the way she was. You, on the other hand? You had no excuse.

You just liked doing whatever the hell you felt like whenever you wanted.

You liked being completely and totally free to be with whoever you wanted to. You didn’t like being tied down. Not to friends, not to anyone you slept with. You had a bad habit of hurting people doing whatever the hell you pleased.

Not like you cared much. You always got what you wanted in the end anyway and you always gave fair warning that you were a bridge burner. Giving up on people before they had a chance to hurt you should have been considered one of your kinks.

It wasn’t that you weren’t a nice person. You were, maybe even a little too nice sometimes. You just didn’t put up with anyone’s shit. The second a person got too clingy or didn’t understand that no, you didn’t want to date them. They got the ax. To you, college was the time in your life for you to find yourself. Find out what you liked and what you didn’t. Have all the fun experiences you could possibly have in 4 years before being forced to settle down into a boring office job for the next 40 years of your life.

Now was the time for you to be adventurous and spontaneous. You didn’t have time for people’s shit and you didn’t have time to be tied down to someone.

Luckily, most of your friends understood your way of thinking. Rose was one of the lucky few you kept close to you. One of the ones you actually opened up to and not just slept with whenever she was single and you were… bored. She understood your need to never say no to anything. She got the fact you craved to try anything and everything you could possibly do in the short amount of time you gave yourself.

She was also the world's worst influence and encouraged your bad behavior. Plus, she joined in most of the time which made everything a lot more fun.

“What happened to Josh?” You asked as she laid back down over top of you. Your loose black crop top band tee pushed up higher on your chest as she pressed harder up against you.

“You mean Josh-U-AHH?” She giggled, smiling wide as she rested on her forearms around your head. Her nose trailing softly against your neck.

“Mhm.” You said, a shiver running down your spine when she paused, lips hovering so close to the sweet spot on your neck you could feel her hot breath hitting your skin.

“Ditched him. He didn’t think it was funny that I kept screaming Josh-U-AHH every time he tried to fuck me.” She said before pressing her velvety soft lips exactly where you wanted her to. The moan you would have let out was replaced with a chuckling laugh.

“Oh my God. What a loser. Everyone loves Friends.” You could feel her lips curl into a smile as she hummed out her agreement. Her mouth trailing light kisses across down your neck. Your body arching ever so slightly into her. Hands grasping her thighs, running up her smooth legs, bunching her skirt around her waist.

When her perfectly straight teeth nipped gently at the crook of your neck, you gasped, knees instinctively bending your legs pressed tightly together.

Your other favorite thing about Rose? She knew how to play dirty. The girl could read you like a damn book. Always knew exactly which buttons to press to get you going.

She could have you whimpering in seconds.

Her hand wrapped around the back of your neck pulling you up into a kiss. Her plump supple lips pressed so fiercely against yours, making your pulse pick up in anticipation. Wanting her so badly you could feel the ache running through your dampening core. Your legs sliding back and forth as her tongue waited for no invitation to claim whatever she wanted.

She was always like this with you, fiery, in control, you loved her like this. On top of you making your body burn with desire.

"Gonna let me fuck you?" She asked, pulling back from your open and waiting mouth so slightly her lips were still touching yours as she spoke.

Your core clenched at her question. A begging whimper coming from you as you nodded your head yes.

Her lips back on yours with so much force it knocked the air from your lungs. Leaving you gasping in a breath of totally her. The intoxicating scent of her sweet strawberry body wash flooding your senses.

Her one hand gripping tightly on the back of your neck as her other slid slowly up your flowing tee. Her nimble movements against your bare breast had you arching your back into her gentle touch. Needing so much more than she was giving you.

Right as you were about to beg for her to stop teasing you the front door to your apartment flew open.

"Jesus, y'fuck in the middle of the livin' room with the door unlocked?" He grumbled, one earbud still in his ear.

"Whatever. You're just jelly I'm fuckin' your girl, Styles." Rose said, leaning back to give Harry a sickeningly sweet smile across her beautiful face. Her hands were still running under your shirt making you bite your lip to suppress your sounds.

You had no idea why she loved teasing Harry so much about this. It wasn't like you two had ever hooked up and honestly he never showed much interest in you. Even before he lived with you he was very indifferent about your existence in your guys' friend group.

You chatted here and there a few times. Got drunk together a lot but other than the cigarette chats outside the bars or at friends parties, you both seemed to go your separate ways.

Even living with the guy you hardly hung out together. Besides the handful of nights, you'd stay in, watching scary movies curled up on your couch. He'd come back from whatever the hell he did and would sit with you, teasing you every time you jumped at a cheap scare.

He rolled his enchanting green eyes as he walked past you two towards his bedroom. You maybe would have possibly been a bit embarrassed but the smirk he shot you as his glance so subtly met yours made your stomach do somersaults.

"You always gotta do that to him?" You questioned when you heard the door to his room shut.

"Shut up. He was totally eye-fucking you. I have no idea why you haven't slept with him yet you've done all our other friends." She said, hands retreating from under your shirt.

"Hey!" You sat up on your elbows so quickly she stumbled back a little on your hips. You knew it was true but damn, she didn’t have to make it sound so bad. You were only having some fun. Besides, she slept with half the people you had so she really had no room to be talking shit.  

"What? It's true!" She said with that bright smile across her face, knowing she was getting under your skin.

"Yeah but Harry's not interested, like at all. I mean, he avoids me almost like the plague when we all go out." You sighed, laying back down flat on the floor.

You weren’t used to people not throwing themselves at you. Honestly, Harry was the only guy in your group of friends you hadn’t slept with and it had more to do with him than you. The guy was like a closed book which of course made him so much more intriguing when he never took any of your advances.

"Oh, he's interested. He's just not into sharing." She said, your eyebrows furrowed together as you thought back to all the people he’d brought over to the apartment.

He honestly didn’t seem to have a problem with sharing, so you weren’t really sure what she was getting at. He didn’t seem to ever have anything official but he’d only hang out with one person at a time. Something that hadn’t ever been your style but you respected his decision to not be involved in all the drama that usually followed with your group of friends.

"You know what? Why don't you fuck him if you're so set on him getting laid?" You asked, peering up at the blonde still sitting on top of you.

"He's not my type." She said, making you laugh instantly, Harry had a way of being everyone’s type.

"Bullshit, he's like a walking sex dream." You laughed the second her cheeks tinted the slightest shade of pink. Knowing damn well she had done her fair share of checking him out but she was sort of right. Rose had a bad habit of chasing down frat boys which always sucked when she dated them and you had to pretend to like them when you all hung out.

Which was always extra hard since they were all pervy idiots who always asked to watch you two hook up and Rose would never let you slap the shit out of them for asking that. Even though they deserved it.

"Yeah, but he's too smart. I need my men to be as dumb as a doornail." She said, pulling you out of your thoughts. Her smiling face beaming down at you and you wished she was joking but you knew she wasn’t.

"Oh my God, you're a terrible person." You said cracking up as she swatted your shoulder, obviously offended.

"I am not!" She said, her voice raising, pissed off you were laughing at her. You couldn’t help it though, she was being so serious and it was the funniest shit you’d heard in a while.

"You kind of are but whatever.” You sighed, lifting your head up slightly to look around her at Harry’s door to make sure it was still closed. “Besides a guy that looks like that is probably shit in bed anyway."

"I heard he's hung." She said, making your head snap back around to look at her.

"What the fuck? Where'd you hear that?" You asked, sitting back up slightly. Most of the people he had hooked up with weren’t in your group of friends so you never heard anything about him. Besides when he brought people home, which really didn’t happen as often as you bringing people home, and you’d hear them in his bedroom.

But you really thought they were exaggerating.

"Elena, she was screwing him for a bit." Rose said, her eyes moving away from yours as you frowned slightly. You thought those two were together for a while and if you were being honest you were very much Team Relena. They were super cute together and she was so much better than that dumbass Josh. Plus, Rose deserved to be happy with someone in an actual committed relationship at some point, not anything you’d ever be able to give her.

Luckily, she always understood that and it never got in the way of your friendship. If anything it made you guys closer.

"Wait, is that why you two broke it off and you went for dumbass Josh?" You asked, trying to get her attention back to you but she shrugged you off. Trying hard to act like it didn’t bother her when you know it did.

"Yeah, Mr. Smarty pants over there stole my girl." She said with a forced laugh trying to move the attention off of the fact she was a little hurt and you didn’t blame her.

The one time she had openly dated someone in a while and she got left for someone else? Plus, Harry and Elena weren’t even dating or hanging out now. Harry hadn’t even hung around her at any parties or bothered to bring her back to your guys' apartment. You wouldn’t even have known they hooked up if Rose didn’t tell you. You knew that had to hurt, which was just another reason on the long list of why you don’t date.

"At least she was shit in bed?" You asked, trying to get her to cheer up a bit.

"Who's the terrible person now?" She said with a giggle as you tried to push her off you again.

"Get off me." You grumbled, her hands grabbing onto yours when you tried your hardest to get away from her. She wasn’t going to be a dick to you and also try to still get you to sleep with her, wasn’t going to happen.

"No way! I'm gonna prove to you that he's into you." She sounded so determined, it made you roll your eyes. Shaking your head at her.

"You know, most people, when they're fucking someone aren't trying to pimp them out to someone else." You said, raising your eyebrow as you questioned why the hell she was so set on this but eventually settled on the fact that if you screwed him he’d more than likely leave Elena alone for her.

"Good thing we only fuck when we're bored or avoiding homework." Her sweet smile spreading wide across her perfectly flawless face.

"I see how it is." You huffed out, arms crossing over your chest as you pout your lips at her. She loved teasing you about this shit so much it was basically a part of your everyday routine. She’d tease you about something, you’d act upset, then you guys fucked. It was your thing.

"Awe baby,” She cooed at you, leaning down, brushing the hair out of your face.  “Don't act so surprised. You couldn't date anyone if your life depended on it. Besides, I'm your best friend and I like proving you wrong when I know I'm right."

"Fine, whatever, but when I'm right you owe me lunch for a week and not the shit that comes with your college fees either I'm talking real lunch." You said, finally realizing she wasn’t going to leave this alone. It was your last roommate all over again, only this time you didn’t think Harry would move out when Rose harassed him nonstop.

"Well, when I win you owe me lunch at that real nice sushi place I like on you and not your fancy daddy." She smiled, teasing you about your sugar daddy. Who she’d only met once but still decided that he was hot shit and you needed to marry him.

"Be prepared to lose." You shrugged, knowing she was going to lose this bet she had set up. It wasn’t like you really turned many people down and Harry had plenty of opportunities he just never took them. So it looked like you were going to be having lunch on her for a week.

"So, what are you going to do? Write a little note that says do you want to fuck Y/N? Circle yes or no, under his door?" You asked, sitting up slightly before she could start getting you worked up again and the thought slipped your mind.

She always had a way of distracting you.

"I have my own ideas. Damn, give me some credit." She sat back, pouting that you’d interrupted her before she could kiss you again. Her big doe eyes pleading with you to drop it already and you didn’t blame her. That studying was pointless and there was no way you two were going to do it.

And you guys hadn’t hooked up in a while.

"Well, you got to tell me what it is!" You said loudly, sighing, and laying back down on the floor. Your mind reeling with all the crazy shit she’d probably do to him. Which made you silently cringe, not wanting her to chase off the one good roommate you’d manage to keep around.

"I will but we were kind of in the middle of something and I know you haven't been laid since you slept with Finn like 3 weeks ago." She whined, burying her head in the crook of your neck. Her blonde hair laying across your face making you sputter and spit it out of your mouth. Your hands desperately swatting away the long strands that you were now eating.

"Wow, just keep up with my sex life why don't you." You said, rolling your eyes as she finally sat up again and got her fucking hair out of your face.

It might have smelled amazing but it wasn’t so much fun to eat.

"Kind of hard to miss when he bragged about it at that frat party Josh and his boys threw last weekend." Your nose immediately crinkled in disgust. Sure, you understood bragging rights but to a whole party? No way.

"Ew." You fake gagged, the guy might have been your friend but damn he needed to learn some manners. You never talked about your conquests unless people asked and hardly even then. You kept your shit to yourself.

"Eh, he talked you up real good." She shrugged, leaning back down to your level, her lips pressing softly against the place right behind your ear that always made you gasp. You felt the smile on her lips the second the air left your lungs.

“You talk me up too?” You asked as she continued her delicious assault on your neck. Her lips pressing lightly against your hot skin as your legs pressed together.

“Always do.” She whispered so quietly before her teeth gazed gently against your ear lobe. Your body arching into her as she pulled away. Her smiling face was beautiful, it felt like the sun was looking down at you.

Her hands slipping back around to the back of your neck while she enjoyed the view of you already getting so needy for her. Your big pouty lips sticking out for her to kiss but the gently shaking no of her head made you whine.

“Please?” You whined, all thoughts of before completely wiped from your mind as you pleaded up to her. Hands gripping her waist in a desperate attempt to pull her closer to you.

She hummed, amused at the fact you were already a mess. Her lips pressed harshly against yours, her lipstick smashing all against your face but you didn’t care one bit.

You felt that familiar fire of need burning so deeply in the pit of your stomach. Your nails digging into the flesh of her ass when you ground her hips forward over top of you, the sweetest sounding moan drifting from her as her core ran against your midsection.

You smiled, seizing the opportunity for your tongue to intrude her mouth. It wasn’t often you took control, always happy to let someone else play the lead but you were tired of waiting. Tired of her playing her games.

But that wasn't her style. No, letting you take control wasn't something she was into. She liked you desperate, needy, begging. The complete opposite of how you usually were outside of the bedroom or in this case the living room floor.

Her lips disconnected from yours. She left wet hot kisses slowly down your neck as her hands flipped up your shirt. Your bare breast on complete display and you might have said something about not being the safety of your room but when her tongue swiped over your already pebbled nipple it was game over.

Your chest arching into her mouth as her amused eyes flickered up to yours. A smile across her face as her tongue trailed across your sternum down the sensitive skin of your hips. She pulled back from you, biting her lip as she climbed between your legs.

You whimpered at the sight, her hands running down the inside of your legs as she pushed your skirt up around your hips. Your eyes peering down at the absolute assault she was doing to your body. Wet kisses trailing the inside of your legs followed by small love bites here and there.

Your hands balled up in fists, nails digging into the palm of your hands as you shifted your hips closer to her face. Whining when she stopped what she was doing to look at you.

"What's wrong, baby?" She asked in that sweet voice you loved so much, wrapping her fingers around the soaking black cotton of your underwear and moving it aside.

"Please, God, please. Just touch me." You begged yet again but the second your hips shifted into her she pulled back from you, tsking.

"Gotta ask nicer than that." She mused, as your head fell back to the floor. She was trying to murder you, literally murder you.

"Please, Rose."

A loud moan leaving you the second her tongue ran across your slick folds. Your knees desperately trying to close around her but she kept pressure on both legs, holding you open for her.

"Keep your head back, baby." She said as her fingers slipped into you and if you would have been in your right state of mind you might have asked why or even looked up.

So of course you didn't notice Harry standing in the kitchen. Wide-eyed, mouth gaping as he held the fridge door open like an idiot. You didn't notice Rose turning her head around to look at him, shooting him a sly wink before pounding into your sweet spot with such precision you could already feel your walls clamping around her hand.

"Gonna sing for me?" She asked, tongue going back to run circles around your clit. Your body felt like it was vibrating from how well she knew how to work you.

All you could do was mumble out a soft "mhm" through your moans. Your body felt like it was convulsing underneath her as your eye clenched together tightly. The pit in your stomach growing so warm before your orgasm washed over you in violent waves of euphoria.

You couldn't even lift your head when she was through. You gasped for air as you laid on the floor, legs feeling like jello as the high finally subsided.

"Enjoy the show?" She said, breaking through your foggy mind as you sat up on your forearms, eyes instantly locking on Harry's wide green eyes. Then promptly moving downward to the bulge in his basketball shorts. A smug smile across your face as he sputtered about for words.

"Uh, just came to get water." He said, a bottle of water not in hand as he turned to bolt for the safety of his room.

"Fuck." You groaned, laying back down on the floor. "I owe you lunch."

"Yeah, you do!"

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x You #Harry Styles x Y/N #Fanfic #Fanfiction #writing #mine #Trouble

[anime-alyssa]

my ghost - dabi x hawks

Not a day passed by where Keigo Takami didn’t think of Toya Todoroki - his best friend that he fell in love with. One day, he swears he’s seeing a ghost - but it's not a ghost at all. 

i posted this on ao3 last night but forgot to cross post here cause it was late - my bad. 

smut below the cut - if you enjoyed consider a lil tippy tip

He remembered it like it was yesterday. 

The teacher coming in with a somber look on her face, eyes slightly glazed over as she told his class that one of their classmates had passed away. She had looked to Keigo sympathetically as he sat in shock - the news not quite hitting him until much later in the day, when the P.E teacher found him in the locker room crying.

Not a day passed when Keigo Takami didn’t think of Toya Todoroki - his best friend that he fell in love with. At the time of his death they were only teenagers, new to the idea of love and romance and not even sure what they liked. As the years went on and more people tried to advance on him, Keigo couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to Toya - making him realize that he was in love with his deceased best friend.

The publicists at his agency thought it would be best if he kept his sexuality a secret. Part of his attraction as Hawks was his looks, he knew that - imagine how much his attractiveness as a hero would go down if society found out he was gay. He always fought with them and told them that they could shove it - but he knew that they were right. There would always be one asshole who would try to tank him for it. 

Everything he did to become the number two hero, he had done with Toya in mind. They had always said they would become heroes together, run their own agency to protect the world from villains. But now here he was, standing on the stage next to the new number one, the person who could no doubtedly be blamed for the death of his best friend - Endeavor. 

Toya hadn’t said much to Keigo about his father - but the scars and bruises were enough to prove to him that the hero wasn’t all he was cracked up to be. But even now, what could he do about it? He had to just smile and put on the show for the cameras - something he was good at. He had been hiding his sexuality all these years, he could pretend to like Endeavor. 

Keigo couldn’t get out of there fast enough - answering the absolute bare minimum of questions that would get the publicists off his back before flying out to his patrol post. The sun was setting by now - the ranking announcement taking way longer than it should have. As much as he wanted to fly back to his penthouse and drink away some of his feelings, he had a job to do - the job that he and Toya always said they’d do together. He wondered how much things would be different if Toya was here - would they be heroes together? Would they be together? Keigo ached to know, even though he would never find out. 

Shouts of commotion from below got his attention as he sighed, standing up and flying downwards. There was a group of thugs confronting a singular villain - trying to go after him. One of them looked up wide eyed, dropping his weapon and dashing away. 

“Oh shit - it’s Hawks!” With a snap of his fingers, Keigo let his feathers fly free, injuring the thugs and letting them fall to the ground. Hawks pressed the police button on his costume to alert the police of the incident before turning his attention to the villain. He landed himself in the middle of them before turning around to face the villain that was causing all the trouble in the first place. 

“Well, well - if it isn’t the number two hero himself. Hawks, right?” he asked. Keigo turned around and his eyes grew wide, meeting the gaze of the villain. No, it can’t be - “What’s the matter, number two? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” the patch work cremator said with a smirk. Keigo knew the blue of those eyes anywhere - the snarky attitude, that face, despite all the staples and burns - he dreamt about it for years. Police sirens started to get closer and closer to the duo before he sighed. “Good talk. I’m gonna take my leave now - thanks for disposing of these worthless thugs for me. Using my quirk is a real pain.” with that, he turned on his heel and started walking away. 

“Toya!” Keigo shouted before he could stop himself. He saw the man stop for the briefest of seconds, turning back towards him. Keigo felt his breath get stuck in his throat - it couldn’t be him, could it? Icy blue eyes locked back on his, a small smile turning his cheeks upwards. 

It was him.

“The name is Dabi now, Keigo. I’ll be seeing you real soon.” Dabi rose his hand and within seconds, Keigo was up in the air avoiding the blue flames. The screams of the captured thugs echoed off the walls as the police arrived on the scene, calling in for back up. By the time some of the smoke and flames cleared, there was absolutely no sign of him. 

Toya’s alive. After all this time, Toya’s alive - 

“Hawks, thank you for calling this in. Where did the flames come from?” a police officer asked the number two. Snapping out of his trance, Keigo turned around to face the police officers, seeing the medical team retrieving the charred bodies of the thugs behind them. With a sigh, he answered.

“Dabi, from the League. Unfortunately, he got away this time. Flames were too quick.” He said back. The police officers looked at him with unease - Hawks was the quickest one around, too fast for his own good, but they didn’t question his answer. For whatever reason, today Hawks wasn’t quick enough to get Dabi. 

After cooperating with the police, he decided he was done for the day. He sent his sidekicks out to patrol some areas while he flew back to his penthouse, landing on the balcony outside the living room and strolling in. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it over a chair before walking over to his bar and pouring himself a drink. 

Keigo had spent the better part of his life trying to deal with Toya being gone - trying to deal with being in love with him - but he had been alive all along? To make matters worse - he was with the League? What the hell had actually happened that night? To his knowledge, Toya had gone up to the mountains to practice using his quirk, and just never came back - burning to death. There hadn’t even been a body found - so how in the hell was he here now?

“You should really have better security up here. Anyone could just… walk in.” Keigo’s feathers acted quicker than he did, several flying out and landing just inches before Dabi’s - Toya’s body. He let out a laugh as Keigo turned around to meet his gaze.

“How?” Keigo asked, voice cracking. He inwardly cringed at himself - if only the public could see him now. Hawks, the number two hero, a bloody mess because his best friend and love was back from the dead. 

“I lived. Clearly - but look at you! Number two hero, all buddy-buddy with Endeavor today. It made me sick.” Dabi said, walking over to Keigo and helping himself to his own drink at the bar. Keigo let out a snort as he refilled his own cup. 

“I meant how did you live. See your attitude is still the same.” Keigo said back to him, turning around to face him sideways. 

“Well, God didn’t want me and Hell didn’t either, so here I am.” Dabi retorted, drinking while eyeing the number two.  “So? Are you now best of buds with dear ‘ol dad?” he asked him. 

“I’d rather tell him to go kick rocks - but unfortunately, I need to pretend to like him. For the public’s sake.” Keigo admitted to Dabi, who hummed in acknowledgment. He watched the scar tissue on his neck bulge as he drank, clearing his throat as he put the glass down after drinking. 

“Yeah, that’d look real fuckin’ bad, right? I hear you’re great at pretending, anyway. If you can pretend to be straight, then I guess you can pretend to like my shithead dad.” Keigo almost spat out his drink at the comment, earning a raised eyebrow from the villain. “Something I said, Kei?” he asked, the two of them putting their glasses down and now looking at each other. 

“How did you find that out?” Keigo asked through gritted teeth. 

“Come on, like it wasn’t already obvious when we were teenagers. Every stupid 13 year old girl in our class threw themselves at you and you could have given a shit.” Dabi said to him smuggly, taking a step closer to the winged hero. “You know, back then - I knew I was too, you know. At first, it was going to just be spite to my old man - imagine him knowing his oldest son was not only a failed experiment, but also gay.” he said with a chuckle. 

“Oh really? Just spite?” Keigo asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Well at first - until after I ‘died’, when I started watching you from the shadows. Saw how bent out of shape you were, really, you were a mess. It actually hurt my heart a little, not gonna lie.” Dabi was walking closer and closer to Keigo slowly but surely, almost on top of him. Keigo made no sign that he was going to move, or was displeased, so he kept going. 

“Huh, so you still have a heart.” he said back with a smirk. Keigo tried to mask how Dabi’s close proximity was affecting him - his heart racing a mile a minute. “What do I have to do with this little story of yours? What, took one look at me and realized you liked men more?” he asked, keeping up the smirk. 

“And if I did? What would you do then?” he asked, voice gravelly as their chests were nearly touching. He could feel the heat coming off of him - body warm from his quirk, that’s how close Dabi was to Keigo. The tension could be cut with a knife, the air thick with it and surrounding the two men. 

“I’d tell you that you were my reason too.” Keigo said honestly, quietly. 

“Well, ain’t that a relief.” Dabi said back to him. Without a second thought, Keigo grabbed Dabi by the shoulders and closed the gap between them, the villain letting out a grunt as their lips met each other. Keigo’s hand went around the back of Dabi’s neck, pushing their mouths impossibly closer together as Dabi’s went around Keigo’s back to crash their bodies together. They both moaned into the mouth of the other as their hips met, each of their bulges harshly pushing against the other. “Where the fuck’s the bedroom, Kei?” Dabi hissed out in Keigo’s mouth. 

“Hold on to me.” Keigo said back, using both his hands to slightly lift Dabi off the ground and fly across the penthouse and into the bedroom. Their lips met once more after Dabi’s back hit the mattress, Keigo moaning as Dabi’s hips bucked upwards to meet his. Dabi used all the force in his body to turn Keigo over, flipping him on his back and panting for breath. His pupils were blown out, barely any blue left to his eyes as they stared down at Keigo’s, in a similar state. 

“Looks like you have a problem there, number two.” Dabi said, voice low and deep as his hand cupped the tent in Keigo’s pants. He let out a pitiful moan as the villain chuckled above him. “Allow me.” 

With that, Dabi unbuckled Keigo’s belt and started to unzip his pants. Once he had those shrugged down enough, his hand went under the waistband of Keigo’s boxers and pulled out his hard cock. Keigo let out a moan as he squeezed it gently, thumb gliding over the slit at the head and spreading the precum that had leaked out. Keigo tried to keep his eyes on Dabi, before they rolled back into his head as the villain’s tongue licked up the underside of his shaft. 

“Fuck…” Keigo moaned, feeling Dabi’s smirk as he took his cock in his mouth. Warmth encased his member as Dabi began to suck his cock, taking as much of his lengthy member into his mouth as he could before his staples started to pain him. What he couldn’t fit in his mouth he wrapped a hand around, starting to pump him. His tongue flicked over Keigo’s head with every bob as his hand pumped him and let out gentle squeezes to his balls, sending jolts of pleasure up his body. Every muscle in Keigo’s body simultaneously tensed up as he felt his cock harden more in Dabi’s mouth. “T - Toya - ” he stuttered as he started to twitch in Dabi’s mouth. 

“Cum, Keigo.” the villain said from below. Keigo let out a guttural moan as he felt himself release inside of Dabi’s mouth. The villain swallowed all of it as Keigo panted and moaned his way through his release, death gripping onto the sheets below him as he felt himself relax. When Dabi stood back up, he shrugged his jacket off and let it fall to the floor, bringing his lips back up to meet Keigo’s. They kissed with a sense of urgency, Dabi’s rock hard erection pressing into Keigo’s still hard cock. “Need you.” Dabi panted as their lips parted, the two men pulling each other’s shirts over their heads. 

“Then come and get me.” Keigo said back as he now tried to unbuckle Dabi’s belt, managing to get it completely undone and pushing his pants down and off. Dabi let out a moan at the actions as he pulled Keigo’s pants the rest of the way off as well and shoved him backward against the mattress once more. Their lips met again as the two were now naked, bodies pressed together and sweating as Keigo felt Dabi’s cock prod at his hole. Dabi guided himself in, pressing into Keigo gently as the latter hissed at the sensation. 

“Relax, Kei - fuck…” Dabi breathed as he continued to settle in. Dabi was losing himself in the feeling - Keigo was so deliciously tight around him and he had been waiting for so long to finally be able to fuck him right. He was inserting himself slowly, savoring the moment as he finally bottomed out.

“I’m not made of glass Toya, so how about you start - fucking shit - ” Keigo was cut short as Dabi started to thrust, a moan falling off his lips as the villain’s pace started out quick and deep. Dabi let out a chuckle as he pounded into him.

“What were you saying?” he asked, a moan of his own falling out of his mouth as Keigo squeezed down on him. “Shit Kei - you do that again and I’ll - ” Dabi moaned again as he felt himself harden inside Keigo, the other man’s cock twitching between their bodies. Keigo was still sensitive from his last orgasm, a moaning and desperate mess for the man above him. Dabi’s pace increased once more as he thrust into Keigo so deeply the hero was seeing stars above him, feeling his second orgasm starting to come up and almost at the bursting point. 

“Toya - I’m gonna - gonna cum - ” Keigo said. Dabi let out a loud moan as his hips kept slapping against Keigo’s ass, the sound of his name coming off the hero’s lips like music to his ears. Dabi’s cock started to twitch inside him and he knew that he was not far behind.

“Cum - cum with me, Kei - fuck!” Dabi cursed, bringing his lips down to meet Keigo’s. Keigo let out a loud moan into the villain’s mouth as he came over his stomach, Dabi moaning back as his hips stuttered into Keigo once more before releasing inside him. They moaned into each other as their releases continued, eventually kissing as Dabi slipped out of Keigo. After a few minutes, they laid next to each other in the bed, Keigo finally speaking up to cut the silence. 

“So, now you gonna disappear on me until you need a fuck again?” he asked the villain. Dabi scoffed as he rolled to face him, eyes narrowing. 

“You want the world to know you just fucked a villain?” Dabi asked back. Keigo humed in agreement as Dabi pressed a kiss to his lips again. He did have a point - obviously, no one could know. 

But even if it was just for a night, for that moment, everything felt… right to Keigo. 

#dabi x hawks #keigo takami #dabi x hawks x reader #toya todoroki #dabihawks #myshit

[the-drakeboys]

Come Back to Me - Pt. 2

Summary: They just have to get out - they just have to get back to you. With guns pointed at their backs and Rafe up ahead, the Drake brothers will fight to make it out of the prison. 

But that’s easier said than done.

And back at the boat, where Rafe’s driver and Sully’s voice over the phone are all you have to distract you, the gnawing thought that things might’ve gone sideways just won’t leave you alone. 

Pairing: Sam Drake x Reader

Word Count: 2,891

Warnings: Violence, mentions of death and loss, suicidal thoughts. Here comes the angst, y’all.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the feedback on Pt. 1! It’s amazing to see that Sam’s still getting love after all this time. Let’s be honest, he really deserves it! And so do all of you, thank you so much. Hope you enjoy Pt. 2!

This is a (mini) series! You can find Part One here.

---

“Go, Nathan, go!” Sam’s voice sent chills down his brother’s spine as they both ran with everything they had, darting from corridors to walls to rooftops. “We have to catch up with Rafe!” 

Bullets were flying all around them, every guard in the prison after the brothers with guns in hand.

“I thought you said you trusted him!” Nate shouted back, vaulting over some piping and sliding his way to a gated crawlspace. 

“I do… to a point,” Sam admitted through his heavy breaths, helping Nate lift the gate. They just had to get to the boat - they just had to get back to you. Just before they were separated, Rafe was saying it wasn’t far, that they were getting closer; but the Drakes felt completely turned around. 

“What do we do?” Nate’s question was full of adrenaline; where do they go from here? 

“We’re almost there,” Sam lied, the memory of his promise to you echoing in the back of his head. “We just gotta keep movin’.” 

---

“I’m sure he’s fine, darlin’,” Sully chuckled over the phone. You sat at the back end of the boat, your med gear stuffed in its waterproof pack beside you and your knee bouncing absentmindedly. Over at the wheel, Rafe’s driver stood in muted silence as he had for the past three and a half hours, all of your attempts at conversation going absolutely nowhere. He was a joy to be around. 

“Of course he is,” you laughed, rolling your eyes, “Aren’t they always?” You relaxed back against the side of the boat, tipping a bottle of cool water to your lips and taking a hefty swig. Sully’s voice could be heard talking to someone on the other side, probably the pretty hotel bartender he’d been flirting with all afternoon, and you found yourself starting to think aloud. “I mean, it’s not like they are...literally constantly getting themselves into trouble, getting beat up, getting shot at…” 

Your gaze flitted back to the cliffside just north of where your boat sat floating over gentle waves, knowing that the erratic beat of your anxious heart would refuse to settle until you saw them sliding out of the jungle and down into the ocean below. “Shit, Sully. What is it about those two that makes me worry so much?” 

Victor sighed on the other end of the phone, and you could hear him puffing on his latest cigar. “Well, if you don’t mind my saying so, kiddo, I don’t think it’s the two of them that’s got you feelin’ so out of sorts. I know you love Nate and all, but you and Sam… You two have been attached at the hip for years now.”

You cleared your throat, reaching up with your free hand to rub at your aching temple. “Can’t argue with you there… This is the first gig since Moscow I haven’t been with them on.” Over by the steering wheel, Rafe’s driver - Josh, you thought it was - wiped at some sweat above his brow. He looked awfully uncomfortable. As you listened to Sully, you reached into the cooler to your left and tugged a fresh bottle of water from the ice. 

“For Christ’s sake, I’m not talkin’ about the work, y/n/n,” Sully muttered. You waved over at Josh, motioning with the water bottle to toss it over to him. Though you’d managed to get his attention, he stoically refused the water, giving you a curt nod instead.

You rolled your eyes and stood. “Well then what the hell are you talkin’ about, Victor?” Still focused on Sully’s words, you held the phone to your ear with your shoulder and walked up to Josh. 

“You didn’t have to-” he started to protest.

“Oh, just take it,” you insisted, a kind smile on your face as he tilted his head in gratitude and finally accepted the water. 

He tipped the bottle to you. “Thanks.” 

“I’m talkin’ about you two bein’ about as close to church bells as I’ve ever seen a treasure hunter get,” Sully retorted.

You let out a blurted laugh and shook your head, mouthing ‘don’t mention it’ to Josh and heading back to your seat. “Gettin’ a little ahead of yourself, don’t you think?” You lifted a hand to block the sun from your eyes, feeling droplets of water splash your shoulder as a large wave broke against the side of the boat. “Besides, Sam and I aren’t the ‘settle down’ types. There’s too much adventure out there, you know that.” 

You could see him in your head, tapping the ashes off the end of his cigar as he sat forward at the bar, shaded by the roof of the hotel cabana and surrounded by tourists. And you knew that even with the confidence and certainty in your voice, he saw right through your words. Sam was all that mattered to you, and it was painfully evident that the adventures that’d once been everything now came second to Samuel Morgan. 

“Maybe so,” he started, “But some things-” 

His voice was drowned out then by a sound you’d been afraid of since you stepped on the boat - a barrage of gunfire coming straight from the prison. You were on your feet in a split second, Josh not far behind you.

“Oh shit,” you cut him off. “Sully, I fuckin’ told you.”

Sully’s voice changed, knowing in that instant that the job had gone wrong. “What is it? What’s going on?” 

---

“There it is!” Nate shouted, following Rafe from roof to roof, each jump more exhausting than the last. Sam kept up the rear, watching his brother’s back as they fought to get back to the boat. 

“Alright, keep going, I’m right behind you!” Sam pushed, launching himself forward and barely catching onto the rusted bars outside a window. Fuck, he thought to himself as another three guards came running around a corner. Just a little further. C’mon. He grunted as he tugged himself up the side of the building, eyes on Nathan just ahead - he was still good. Still running.

“On me!” Rafe barked, “Get to the wall, NOW!” 

“Sam!” Nate yelled back over his shoulder, not feeling his brother nearly as close as he needed to.

Don’t worry about me, Nathan, Sam thought, making another jump just behind him. “Just keep going! Go!” 

Nate could see the edge now, the treetops and greenery of the jungle just ahead. He just needed to make one more jump - one last rooftop to cross. With an enormous leap and an “ah, hell!” for good measure, the younger Drake made it, barely catching onto a pipe and feeling one side of it give underneath him. 

Loud shouts from guards closing in could be heard behind them as Nate struggled to pull himself up, finally crawling over the edge to see Rafe taking cover with a gun in hand. 

He turned, and there Sam was, waiting on the other building - pinned down against a barrier. “Sam!” Nate reached his arm out. “C’mon! I’ll pull you up!” 

Sam saw his baby brother there, arm outstretched, waiting to run with him into the jungle where a few hundred feet of trees and mud and rock was all that separated him from the boat, from escaping the guards and the guns and this godawful prison and finally getting back to you. 

Without giving himself time to overthink it, he made a break for it, legs pushing him off the edge and arms swinging wildly as he flew through the air. “I gotcha!” Nate shouted in relief, his hand catching Sam tightly around the wrist. “C’mon!” 

With all his strength, he pulled, his brother grabbing onto the edge of the roof. 

Tak, tak, tak.

Bullets shattered against the metal siding, all around Sam, and Nate was desperate to pull his brother from the line of fire. Tugging on his arm, trying to lift. 

But he wasn’t moving. He was silent. Just staring up at Nathan, not making a sound. In all the guards’ shouting and the wailing of the alarm, the gunfire and Rafe’s berating from over Nate’s shoulder, somehow everything had gone incredibly quiet. 

Sam hung there, on the side of the building, and he knew. In that moment. 

He was going to break his promise to you. 

“Sam -- no,” Nate blurted, his heart sinking and stomach turning as blood spurted from his older brother’s lips. “No, you hold on!” He couldn’t hold on. God knows he was trying to. But he couldn’t. 

He fell, hanging by Nate’s iron grasp on his wrist, and he looked up at his brother, fighting to stay awake. He just wanted to say something - anything, to let him know it was gonna be okay. “Sam!” Nate was desperate. His other hand reached down, begging him to fight, to just be able to get up and over that ledge. “Gimme your other arm!” 

But Sam’s head dropped. He felt the air draining out of his lungs, could feel the breeze against the blood soaking through his shirt. He saw your face smiling down at him. Heard your laughter fill a room. Felt your fingers in his hair. 

His eyes closed. “C’mon, reach!” his little brother pleaded. Nate’s grip was slipping. “No!”

Nate’s grip… slipped.

He lost him then, watched him fall, cascading down and down, his body crashing through an old metal awning. He disappeared into the darkness below. He was gone.

“Sam!” Nate’s scream echoed through the prison. 

Bullets raining down over him forced him back from the ledge, cowering as tears burned their way down his cheeks. Rafe reappeared then, grabbing at Nate’s shoulder as if there was nothing they could do. 

“We gotta move,” he urged. 

“No, no, he’s still down there,” Nate bumbled, his entire body shaken, eyes glassy. 

“No, he’s gone. C’mon, the boat’s just beyond the wall.” Nate just turned, looking to where his brother had been just thirty seconds before. 

“No… No, I can’t.” He was gonna throw up. His stomach was in his throat. Sam. Sam couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t. “I can’t -- I can’t leave him behind.” 

“Nate!” Rafe’s voice was sharp, “Your brother is dead.” The words struck him, deep in his core. “Either come with me or join him.” 

---

You stood at the back of the boat, staring intently at the edge of the jungle. All you needed was to see the three of them leap down into the water, and you’d be fine. 

“How long’s the flight from Mexico City?” you spoke into the phone, turning to Josh and pointing over at the landing point. “Get us around this bend, as close as you can.” 

“Hang on to somethin’,” Josh shot back, taking the wheel. 

“Goddamnit, kid, I don’t know. Maybe three, three and a half hours.” He was out of breath, he was on the move. “Need a ride outta there?” 

You eyed the open ocean ahead of you, knowing that once the boys made it, it’d be thirty minutes of travel across the water to the rendezvous point. The chances of making that distance with the cops on your tail weren’t good. 

“Maybe - hopefully not, but I’m hearin’ fireworks like the fourth of July up there.” Not only was there endless gunfire, but the impossibly loud sirens in the distance told you that every guard in the entire prison was after the boys - and they weren’t messing around. “If we can’t run, we’re gonna have to hide until you can swing through. I promise I’ll get you back for this.” 

Josh pulled the boat as close to the cliffside as he could while leaving room for them to land. You both watched the cliff’s edge, vigilant and ready. Your hand rested on the gun at your hip, comforted by its presence there. 

“Don’t you worry about that, darlin’. Just get outta there quick as you can, I’m grabbin’ my things now and I’ll be on the plane in twenty.” 

You cleared your throat, that familiar terror thumping in your chest as your mind painted in vibrant colors every nightmare scenario that could be laid out in front of you. “Sounds good. I’ve got the sat phone with me, so if you can’t get me on this...” 

“I know where to reach you. Got it.” 

“Thanks, Sully. I’ll uhh…” You could feel the nerves bubbling up into your shaken voice. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Let’s hope it’s just for beers and laughs, eh?” he quipped. You managed a chuckle, and he did the same, signing off and ending the call. 

“Think we’ll be followed?” Josh questioned, one hand on the steering wheel and the other shielding his eyes as he looked up. 

“Let’s hope not,” you sighed, sending a nervous smile his way. Worry flashed over his face, though he hid it well. “But I trust you, I think you’ll get us out of here just fine.” 

“You’ll hold me to that, right?” he said with a grin. 

You opened your mouth to offer a retort, when finally - your prayers were answered. Relief washed over you as rocks tumbled down into the sea, Rafe’s flailing form following them closely. They made it. “Thank god,” you breathed, hurrying forward to lean over the edge of the boat and give him a hand. 

As he swam over to you, a revolver in his hand, your eyes moved back up to see what looked like Nate plummeting through the air and crash landing just behind Rafe. “Come on up,” you chuckled, anxiety travelling through you as Josh helped you lift the sopping wet money-man into the boat. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Rafe staggered forward, propping himself up by the controls. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” 

“Hang on,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “Give ‘em a minute, will you?” 

Nate was barely swimming. He felt like he couldn’t move. His whole body was numb and in horrible pain all at once. A black hole had formed in his chest, and as he slowly drifted toward you, he wished he’d stayed back - he wished he’d died there with his brother. 

“Nate!” you laughed, “Some time today, we’ve still got cops to contend with, you know.” The relief on your face killed him inside. He reached up, weakly taking your hand and letting both you and Josh pull him onto the safety of the small boat. 

“Alright, c’mon, Sam,” you thought aloud, eyes back on the edge of the jungle, fingers tapping impatiently on your gun and a soft smile on your face as you thought about drinkin’ mojitos and dancin’ in the sunset.

“Let’s go,” Rafe’s voice ordered. 

“Excuse me?” you scoffed. Josh stood in silence for a moment, looking between you.

Rafe ignored you, pointing him to the wheel. “Now! Before they have a chance to follow us.” Josh slunked his way to the wheel and shifted the boat into drive, his head hung low. 

You made a mental note to kick the living shit out of Rafe once this was all over. “Just fucking hold on! He’ll make it. Give him another minute.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, he’s not coming! He’s dead!” he bellowed, his face red and eyes ablaze. 

“You don’t know that!” You marched toward him, fists balled up at your sides, about ready to break his jaw.

With his eyes burning into you, he gave one final order to the man behind him. “Hit the goddamn gas and get us out of this shithole!”  The boat rocketed away from the cliffside, Josh at the helm and looking full to the brim with shame. 

You lurched forward, “What the fuck are you doing?! Are you out of your mind?!” Your hands grabbing at the wheel, the controls, your disbelief overwhelming you.

“Back off!” Rafe shoved you back by your shoulders, knocking you on your ass. You felt the boat halt in the water, and watched as Josh yanked Rafe back from you. “Get the fuck off me!” With one quick movement, Rafe smashed the butt of his gun into Josh’s face, causing him to stumble back against the side of the boat. 

“Fuck!” Josh spurted, holding his nose.

“You piece of shit! You’re crazy! We are not leaving him!” You turned to face the younger Drake, clambering back to your feet and gesturing wildly at Rafe, “Nate, are you hearing this?!” A beat. “Nate?!” You had to go back, you had to get back as fast as possible, he was probably treading water at that very moment, shouting for you to turn back. You just needed… to...

...wait.

Your eyes landed on him. On Nate. 

Nate, crumpled up in a ball, soaked to the bone and trembling like a leaf, hands hovering over his face and skin paler than you’d ever seen as he sat huddled in the corner. 

Nate, who’d stayed silent, no quips, no jokes, no ‘that was a close one’s. 

Nate… who couldn’t look you in the eye.

You chanced a few steps closer, but your body suddenly felt numb.

“Nate?” you asked in confusion, your head turning to look back up at the cliffside. The quiet there was deafening. The gunfire had stopped. Why was there no gunfire? 

Nathan felt you grasping at straws. He wanted to be swallowed whole. He wanted to disappear.

“Nate…” Your lungs burned. “Wh-Where… Where is he?” 

---

Previous Chapter  I  Next Chapter

Tags: 

@s4mdrake @landoverthemountains @supernaturally-avenging-hannibal @cassieseraphim

Shoot me an ask, message, or reply if you’d like to be tagged in this series!  Thanks so much for reading!

#sam drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake #uncharted #uncharted 4 #fanfiction #tw: death #tw: loss #tw: suicidal thoughts #fanfic #sam drake fanfiction #nathan drake #victor sullivan #nate #sully #rafe adler #come back to me #my writing

[breakingsomething]

french toast

basic summary: jameson makes breakfast.

trigger warnings: read the tags! i was worried putting the warnings here would spoil the fic, so look in the tags if you want to know :)

the sun came up the same every morning. five am exactly, jameson knew. time was something he was intimately familiar with in a way he couldn't explain. it ran through his veins with his blood. it rang in his ears every second of the day. it burned in his fingers and warmed every tear that he spilled. he owned it. there wasn't another man living who was as powerful as he was.

and nobody knew it but him.

it was far too cold in the bed. jameson couldn't feel anti beside him. that wasn't unusual, or normally wouldn't be, except for the fact that it was very early and he knew anti hadn't gone to bed until just past two. he'd heard him having a nightmare at twenty past three. after that he'd gone silent, and jameson had properly slept. now, he sat up, blinking and rubbing his eyes, adjusting to the empty, slowly lightening room. he wished they has curtains, but he supposed beggars couldn't be choosers when it came to a situation like theirs.

looking around, it made him wonder what the creator's boys were doing right now. probably all still sleeping, maybe eating food that they hadn't stolen or fought tooth and nail for. maybe when they woke, they'd take a shower without worrying about the hot water bill for a house not registered under their name. maybe they'd dress in clothes they picked out themselves. maybe they'd spend the day thinking of pastries and youtube videos and magic and jewelry and whatever else people thought of. not a thought to be spared for anyone else. jameson almost snorted at the thought.

his bare feet padded to the door, the silence almost deafening. his heart raced in his ears. a-n-t-i? he knocked on the doorframe, to which he got no response. probably for the best. definitely for the best. gave jameson a bit more time.

he went over to the cupboard and quickly pulled on some proper clothes, a blue hoodie and black tracksuit bottoms with mismatched socks that had holes at the top. drank some water that he'd left on his bedside. then he pulled out something that he'd hidden in between his sketchbook pages and slipped it in his pocket, along with something else that he'd hidden in his shoes. just as precautions. eventually, he went to the bathroom and quickly brushed his hair with his fingers before slowly making his way downstairs.

anti was sitting at the kitchen table. he didn't look up when jameson came in, though; he was slumped over with his face in his arms, whistling softly in his sleep. jameson wasn't used to seeing him in just a t-shirt, and for a moment he just stared at his ink black tattoos, marred by raised pink scars from an event jameson hadn't been around to witness, which he was grateful for. anti's hair was getting long too, falling in curls around his freckled face. right now, it was almost hard to look at him and see him as a manipulative murderer, a torturer, an actor and a kidnapper and a liar and a thief. but jameson knew he was. he always had been.

he wished he could have seen it earlier.

he made breakfast. he'd managed to convince anti that he wanted to try his hand at cooking, and his brother had relented after just a few days of begging for ingredients. eggs, vanilla extract, yoghurt and berries - french toast was on the menu this morning. by the time anti had slowly begun to stir, the scent had filled the warm kitchen, making the house that wasn't theirs feel so much more cosy. anti yawned, shaking his arms out and wincing. jameson watched him with a raised eyebrow and a soft smile, waiting for his brother to notice him.

it took a moment before he did. "oh - morning, dap," anti mumbled, scrubbing sleep from his eyes. "what the fuck're you… it's, like, six am, shouldn't even you still be asleep?"

jameson grinned, holding up the two plates he'd already set up and placing the left one proudly in front of anti. "toast," he signed as soon as he had both hands free. "french toast. also, i'm an early bird. figured i'd use my time well."

he sat at the table and slid a fork across the table to a surprised anti, who caught it and stared down at his plate in amazement. "you absolute mad lad, dapper," he grinned, brown eyes flashing. "i knew it was a good idea to let you buy all that shit."

that was bullshit. anti hadn't wanted to buy it at all, and jameson had had to behave perfectly to his older brother's standards in order to get it. like a dog being rewarded with a treat. jameson bit his lip hard and didn't respond, forcing a smile onto his face.

they dug in, the two of them eating in relative silence as a conversation was difficult to have when one party couldn't speak without their hands. jameson tapped the edge of his plate with his fork, the sound ringing out in the quiet. his hoodie pocket felt suddenly very heavy, despite it now being lighter than before.

"doing anything today?" he asked once he'd eaten a few bites, setting the fork down at the side. he didn't feel very hungry. anti bobbed his head and held up a hand while he swallowed, coughing into his hand immediately after.

"i have to go shopping soon, actually," he said, drumming his fingers on the table to a tune jameson didn't recognize. "do we need anything specific? i can definitely get more of this shit if we need any, ha. i know we need, uhh… fuck, my head hurts and i don't remember shit." he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. "d'you know, dap? anything important?"

jameson waited for anti to remember that he wouldn't be able to hear his brother's reply and sheepishly open his eyes before responding. "i don't think we'll need anything. as far as i'm aware, it's all taken care of."

anti furrowed his brows, frowning. "i'm sure we… needed something. i dunno what it was." he yawned again, shivering. "christ, it's gotten dead cold in here. and for some reason, i'm still tired as shit."

"why'd you sleep down here?" jameson asked. might as well ask. anti did love to talk about himself.

it took the man a moment to respond, and when he did, his voice was slightly slurred. "had a weird fuckin' dream, didn't wanna be 'round you. was gonna sleep on the couch, but i came in here for water 'n i fell 'sleep…" he suddenly coughed again, doubling over and covering his face. when he sat up again, he had gone very pale, hair sticking to his face with sweat. "shit, i don't… don't feel well, what th'fuck…"

this time when he coughed, his hands came away from his mouth red. "fuck!" he swore, trying to stagger to his feet. but his legs gave out beneath him and he crumpled to the floor, gasping and wheezing. "fuck, fuck, i'm - dap, help me up, shit!"

jameson watched calmly from his place at the table. anti looked up with desperate eyes that widened as he saw his brother's blank expression, pupils dilating to pinpricks. "dap?" he rasped, retching with a hand clamped over his mouth. "wh-what the fuck did you -"

"a-r-s-e-n-i-c," jameson signed with a smile. his movements were smooth and deliberate in comparison to anti's pained thrashing. "i went classic. there was enough in there to kill a man in half an hour, i'd say. i'm surprised you didn't taste it. you may be experiencing nausea and vomiting, muscle cramps, dizziness, abnormal heart rhythm, sudden convulsions…"

he trailed off, smirking as anti clawed at his throat, gasping for breath and gagging. jameson wasn't even sure the man could see his signs anymore. "y-you fucking - you poisoned me?" anti stammered, wrapping his arms round his stomach and paling even further. "christ, well, that's a first -"

jameson grimaced in disgust as anti threw up without warning, still coughing afterwards. "gross," the time traveler signed, screwing up his face. "die with a little dignity, anti."

anti looked up in time to catch the last few words, although by this point jameson supposed his vision had blurred enough that he couldn't see very well. nevertheless, he managed to sit himself up, wiping spit off his chin. "you want me - why the fuck d'you want me dead?" he managed. his arm twitched wildly, and he gasped in pain. jameson watched him clutch at the counter, trying to pull himself up. "i g-gave you everything, you unappreciative shit, what is wrong with - you f-fucking -"

he suddenly spasmed, and jameson sighed. "oh dear," he signed, despite anti not being able to see him. "it appears you've reached the stage of convulsing and seizures. that's not good, especially with your epilepsy, is it?"

anti choked, and jameson laughed without noise, pulling his phone from his pocket and quickly typing into the text to speech box. he wanted anti to hear what he had to say. "you say you gave me everything," the monotone male voice spoke. "then why am i always in pain? why are you always hurting me, one way or another? why do you treat me like i'm less than you?"

"i - love you, you b-b-bastard," anti gasped, stopping to cry out in pain as he convulsed. "i do, tha-that's nottalie, swear, swear, stop it, stop -"

jameson had finished typing his next lines by that point. "you always say you love me but you don't fucking show it. buying me sketchbooks and ingredients for meals doesn't count as love." his fingers flew across the keyboard. "love is not hurting someone just because you want to. love is not demeaning someone and making them feel small and worthless. love is not stepping on someone to elevate yourself. love is not hurt. love is not you."

"no, no, no," anti mumbled, curling up on the floor, hissing through his teeth. "i - i - you don't underst-t-tand - protect, trying to protect, ah, ah, nngh, i'm - dap -"

"and there's another thing," the voice said cooly. "my name isn't dapper. it's jameson jackson. you don't notice anything, do you, anti? this wasn't a sudden rebellion."

"a li'l p-poison isn't gonna kill me," anti laughed hoarsely.

jameson stood. "no," he signed. "but this will."

he pulled the other item from his pocket, slowly, so anti could take it in. he smirked as his brother's breath hitched at the sight of the silver kitchen knife, reflecting the light from the window above the counter. the reaction was so satisfying to watch.

"y-you're gonna stab m-me, eh?" anti tried to laugh again, but it came out more like a weak whimper. he retched again, head slamming against the wall as he twitched. "f-feels like it's f-fitting that you'd b-be - be the one to kill me. if anyone did, you-you're not - the worst choice."

jameson rolled his eyes. "sure." then he leaned down and pressed his knife to anti's bandaged throat. "anything else to say?"

anti was still shaking, blood dribbling from his mouth. but his eyes, flickering from colour to colour and eventually coming to rest on grey to match his brothers, were full of an emotion that jameson didn't understand. "didn't mean to - you - i -" he threw his head back, whimpering with pain. "b-b-bastard, i - fuck -"

jameson didn't let him get any further.

once it was over, jameson slumped back against the kitchen cupboards, staring off into the living room with unfocused eyes. he'd done it. why didn't he feel happier, more free? why did he feel more trapped than ever?

his hands were red.

he washed them. ten times over. then he took a shower and changed his clothes. he stared at his reflection for a full half hour, lost in thought, hands shaking as his nails dug into his palm.

anti was still on the floor when he went back downstairs. fuck, best get rid of him. jameson crouched down next to him and pressed a hand to his brother's chest. with closed eyes, he let the magic channel through him, burning his skin, burning anti's skin, crushing him under the weight of time itself. several minutes passed, and by the end of it, anti's body was gone. eaten away, dissolved.

jameson didn't feel lighter. really, he felt so much heavier. like he'd gone swimming in a full denim outfit. like he'd gone swimming with rocks in his pockets. like he'd - like he'd just killed his brother. there was no sugarcoating it.

it had felt good. jameson had never been more disgusted with himself.

what would he do now? there was no where else to turn. no one else to go to. except - jameson narrowed his eyes. no one else but the creator's boys. the one's who'd called themselves his brothers. the one's who'd left him with anti. they'd left him with anti, they'd left him with - they'd left him here. they'd been too fucking cowardly to come save him.

jameson picked up the knife from the place anti's body had been. maybe he had something he could do after all. loose ends to tie up. more brothers to put in their places.

his hands weren't red anymore. they felt red.

jameson's french toast had gone cold.

#jacksepticeye #boop writes #jameson jackson #antisepticeye #this is not canon in my lore!! i would like to make that clear!!! this is just another dumb oneshot that will NOT turn into an au my god #no more aus for reina #poison tw #death tw #stabbing tw

[bapyess1r]

I Like You A Lot

WARNINGS: dream smut, cursing

Pairings: OC x OC x OC, Victor Sullivan x OC

Tags: @desertvvitch , @courtenbae

Author’s Note: if you’d like to be tagged in the story just let me know 💕

Chapter 6

The next day...

Sunny’s POV

“I can’t believe you’re really going to India, Sun. It’s probably so gorgeous!” My friend, Catalina, raved as I sat at a table closest to the front counter of her bakery. I feigned a smile and stirred the coffee she made me, watching her pack a fat bag full of pasta and a tub of chocolate chip cookies.

“Yeah! All the dead bodies are really gonna add a nice touch to the postcard I’ll send you.” I said with a touch of sarcasm as I rested my chin in my palm, looking at her with a smile. But the joke went right over her head.

“Dead bodies?!” She exclaimed.

“Cat, darling, she’s goin’ into a bloody war zone.” Erik told her slowly.

“A war zone?!” Her brown almond shaped eyes widened as her jaw dropped and she leaned over the counter. “A WAR ZONE?!”

“I think we broke her.” Erik joked, looking at me. I allowed myself to giggle and I sipped my coffee carefully so as to not burn my lips.

“Suck it, Erik.” Catalina grumbled, blowing her flouncy dark bangs off of her round freckled face and throwing a cookie at him. I grinned as he made a face and sipped his iced Mochaccino with extra whip sourly through his straw.

“I could leave you, y’know?” He said. I rolled my eyes. These were the two people that kept me remotely sane in my 7 years of being in San Francisco.

It was a very early morning for us. Erik and Catalina were driving me to Sully’s plane which he parked on a runway in a hangar outside the city. It was a pretty long drive but an even longer flight. 17 hours of just me and the old man. I was sure he’d let me fly until I got tired. And there would be so much to talk about. I hadn’t seen him since Libertalia. I missed him a lot too. When my friend finished packing everything into a travel bag, she locked up the bakery and the three of us hopped into Erik’s black 2015 Ford Mustang. I took backseat while Catalina rode shotgun, Erik blasting whatever rap music he liked listening to as he drove along a road that seemed to wind for the longest. I listened to my friends sing their songs and make jokes and I leaned into the door as I watched the smiles on their faces. I couldn’t die while I was gone. I wouldn’t allow myself. ‘Who would take care of these idiots?’ I thought with a slight chuckle.

As we arrived at the hangar, I could see that familiar tall silver haired fox, sitting on the steps of his seaplane as he smoked a cigar just waiting for me. The wind pushing at his clothes and hair lightly. Erik just pulled up right to the plane and stopped the car. I gave a big sigh and mentally prepared myself for the adventure ahead before hopping out. As soon as I did, I went running into Sully’s arms to deliver the biggest hug.

“How ya doin’, kid? You look tired.” He asked me. I gave him a small smile and shuffled my feet.

“A lot has happened this week. Sam came, he got me fired, now we live together-”

“He got you fired?” Sully forced a laugh and shook his head. “But it’s good. You didn’t need to be there anyway.”

“Yeah…. he punched my boss in the face!” I said, raising a brow as I looked at him. He cackled.

“That’s Sam for ya.”

“Mmmhmm.” I agreed, picking at my nails. “I guess I should be grateful though. Won’t have to work at that shithole again.”

“That’s a bright side…” he nodded.

“And I get to travel more with you guys! Do work that I actually give a fuck about.” I grinned. He pinched my cheek with a proud smile as Erik and Cat got out of the car. Erik grabbed one of my bags from the trunk and brought it over to me.

“Erik goddamn Tales. How long has it been?” Sully asked, shaking his hand strongly. I’d forgotten that the last time they saw each other we were all in London.

“I wanna say 6 years, mate.” Erik smiled as he handed me my bag and I went to put it on board.

“Jesus, time really does fly, huh? You look good! Put on a little bit of muscle since I saw you last.” He said with a smile.

“Ah, cheers, Mr. Sullivan!” Erik smiles in embarrassment as he continued.

“I remember when you were just a skinny little thing.” Sully tapped him in the chest with the back of his hand casually as he spoke. Erik just laughed and nodded.

“Yeah I’m workin’ on it.” He chuckled. As I hopped out of the plane, I noticed Catalina trying to grab the biggest bag; the one full of my weapons. She struggled to pick it up and damn near dropped it on her foot when she managed to get it out of the trunk. I giggled and ran over to help her.

“You good, Kitty Cat?” I asked her and she huffed as the weight of the bag pulled her down a bit.

“What in the hell do you have in here?” She asked, straining herself to pick it up.

“Guns.” I told her simply, picking up the bag with ease and linking an arm around hers as she held onto the bag of food she packed. I walked her over to the plane and introduced her to Sully. “Victor Sullivan, Catalina Cabrera.” I said quickly, pushing between everyone to put my guns on the plane. Sully’s posture straightened a little at the sight of my precious friend. In a heartbeat he swooped up her hand and placed a kiss on the back of her knuckles.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart.” He said rather smoothly. As I came off the plane, Cat shot me a look and wiggled her thick brows at me. I shook my head and fought off a smile. Then she handed him the travel bag.

“I made you guys a little something for the road…. well… the sky…” She said and he chuckled.

“Sunny, you never told me you had cute friends.” Sully puffed on his cigar and smirked at me.

“Settle down, ya dirty ol’ dog.” I laughed, patting his back.

“I made pasta and cookies. I hope you guys like it.” She said to him as he looked in the bag.

“I’m sure we’ll love it. Cat here can cook like a fuckin’ Master Chef. She’s got her own bakery and everything.” I said to him, hugging her and kissing her cheeks.

“I’m okay-”

“Bullshite. It’ll be the best damn cappuccino you ever have in your life.” Erik said, interrupting her humble moment to push her about with a smile.

“Well when we get back, I might just have to take you up on that.” Sully said as I took the bag from him. I looked at Erik who had been rather quiet. During the ride over he kept looking at me through the rear view, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. His eyes just kept bouncing between me and the road. ‘I hope he’s okay…’ I thought for a moment.

“Welp! We got a lotta air to cover. Let’s hit the skies, shall we? Lovely meeting you, Miss Cabrera. Erik, practice your aim, bud.” With that, Sully turned to get into his plane. I hugged Cat tightly and she ran her fingers through my curls.

“You better come back. Scratches and bruises only. I’m still traumatized from your gunshot wounds.” She told me, burying her face in my chest. I chuckled and poked her nose.

“I’ll be fine. Be good while I’m gone. Sell the fuck outta those pumpkin cupcakes. People are gonna love them. Look out for each other. And keep Erik outta trouble. Please?” I said.

“Of course.” She smiled. The look in her eyes told me she’d be just fine. Then I turned to Erik. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he slowly slipped his arms around my waist. He hugged me as tight as he would before I left anywhere. But he lingered a bit this time. The way he looked down at me, there was so many emotions swirling in his green eyes; too many to unpack at the moment. He parted his lips to speak and stuttered a bit.

“Sunny, I…. I uh…” he pondered a moment.

“Yeah?” I urged him to keep talking. He seemed to shake his head a bit before a calm smile stretched across his face.

“I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone…” he told me as he looked me in my eyes. I knew it wasn’t what he wanted to say so I made a mental note to talk to him when I got back. I just smiled and kissed his cheek before stepping onto the plane. His hands lingered in mine like he didn’t want to let me go yet he reluctantly did so.

“Alright. I love you guys! Call me!” I shouted, closing the plane door behind me. I sat in the passenger seat of the seaplane and looked down at my friends, waving as we flew off. I watched as they grew tinier and tinier the higher we got. Soon they were but little specks on the ground and we were above the clouds.

“That’s my family, Sully… those two… They’re all that matters…” I looked at the ground where they were even though we were high in the clouds now, my hand against the glass as we flew through the air.

“I’m glad to know you’ve got people out here that care about you. I worry, y’know?” He said gently. I was surprised at him.

“Victor Sullivan, I do believe you’re goin’ soft on me.” I told him with a smirk. He shook his head and chuckled. “I can fly later, right?”

“Absolutely not.” He shut me down immediately and my nose turned up as my brows tensed.

“Why in the sam hell did you teach me how to fly a goddamn plane if you won’t let me fly said goddamn plane?” I asked in annoyance. He just chuckled.

“I didn’t think you’d actually want to-”

“WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT?!” I snapped. I was a bit disappointed. I was looking forward to flying a bit.

The flight was rather long and I fell asleep twice. I chatted with Sully about him and Sam’s recent adventures (the whole two sides to a story deal). It seemed as if Sam had been living his best life for the past six months. Sully busted a knee during one trip and he’d been a little light on it lately. He would tell me that getting old means more recovery time. Something I wasn’t exactly looking forward to. Suddenly, he began acting a little shifty. I picked it up and narrowed my eyes at him for a moment before turning my eyes back to the blue sky and fluffy clouds before us.

“What is it, old man?” I asked, slouching in my seat and biting my nails. He gave a nervous chuckle, knowing nothing could really get by me.

“How’s Sam been?” He asked me. I raised my brows and snorted. There was once a time where the two men couldn’t even stand each other and now he was checking up on him…

“Fine…. We got a shared apartment. He wanted to make up for getting me fired.” I mumbled.

“You live together?!” He shouted. I stared at him with widened eyes before smirking a little.

“Geez, Sully. Don’t be such a dad about it.” I said. “Look, it’s a win-win situation. I get a new place, half the rent, I practically live in my workspace now, and he’d be gone a lot so I’d have the place to myself mostly… among other explicit things.” I smirked. Sully’s expression seemed a bit uneasy as he shifted in the pilot’s seat. He cleared his throat and tried to suppress his grim facade. Something felt off. Like he wanted to tell me something. Kind of like everyone else who was afraid to tell me things nowadays. “Okay, Sullivan. Spill it.”

“Heh…. I don’t wanna drive a wedge between you two by any means… and you know I just wanna look out for ya—”

“Victor… you’re stalling.” I said, calling him out.

“Sam’s had a bit of company… during his time away. Before he came to see you. It wasn’t just one… it had been a couple.” He told me nervously. I took a deep breath as my heart pounded against my chest suddenly. Sam mentioned before that he’d been with other girls during his travels. He never elaborated on it but it stayed in the back of my mind. Bringing it up again only made me think about it more. I looked at Sully with an unbothered look.

“I know. He told me.” I responded, acting as if it didn’t hurt when in fact it did (more than it was supposed to). “He can sleep with whoever he wants. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or anything…”

“Isn’t he though?” Sully retorted rather pigheadedly. I sighed.

“No he’s not. I don’t want a boyfriend. Never needed one and I won’t start now…” The words didn’t seem true anymore. The closer I got to Samuel Drake, the more I wanted to know everything; feel everything. Be everything. But a relationship wasn’t in the cards for me. It seemed like it never was…

“Well then. I guess it doesn’t matter then.” Sully said simply.

“Nope.” I replied in a stale tone. Sully gave me a side eye but continued to keep quiet on the subject.

We finally touched down at a port in Karnataka. When we arrived, I was knocked out cold in the back of the plane. 17 hours was no joke. The gentle vibrations and the hum of the engine as I brushed up on more Hoysala culture lulled me to sleep rather easily. Not to mention Sully and I ate our weight in pasta and cookies. My friend really put her foot in it. I was suddenly startled by a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. My eyes fluttered open to be met with a pleasant pair of blues.

“Are we there yet?” I mumbled. He nodded.

“Yup. We made it, kid.” He told me, stretching his long limbs.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t let me fly. All goddamn 17 hours and you didn’t let me go one. That’s just mean.” I grumbled sitting up, scratching my head as he chortled.

“How about we go out n’ get some sun, huh?” He said, patting my back.

“What time is it even?” I blinked the sleepy burn from my eyes and yawned.

“11:30. AM.” He answered curtly. I made a face of pure disgust.

“It was morning when we left…” I whined.

“And it’s morning here now.” He said, putting on his sunglasses.

“This is such trash. I hate this so much.” I scoffed with my head in my hands as I stood. I reached into my bag nearby and grabbed my sunglasses from the side pocket, sliding my jacket off my arms. Sully opened the door to the plane and the heat came pouring into the air conditioned plane, invading all my personal space. I shook my head tiredly. “Holy fuck…” I sighed, hopping off the plane.

“Let’s get to the motel and get settled. Then I’ll take ya out for the 4x4 and I know a guy you can get a boat from. It’s on the bad side of town though so… maybe you should go in the daylight. But we can do that tomorrow.” He told, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. He was only staying for a day or two. I grabbed my bag of weapons and Sully suddenly stopped me. “You think it’s a good idea to openly carry a bag full of guns around the city right now?” He asked me. I chewed on my lip just as an Indian officer walked by.

“You’re right. I’m an idiot. And I’m tired.” I said, deciding to leave my bag on board. He threw an arm over my shoulder as I adjusted my bag of clothes over my shoulder.

“I’ll get you some more.” He said like a coddling parent.

“Lemme guess. You got a guy for that?” I smirked. He smiled and patted my head as we walked about the city.

It was quite wonderful really. The women wore beautiful sarees, cows and chickens walking about with their owners, street vendors lined up everywhere selling just about anything and everything. Children played in the streets with soccer balls as the South Indian wind carried the most mouthwatering scents of food. The buildings were painted colorfully as well as the fishing boats in the harbor. I didn’t know where to look. It was just an explosive rainbow all over the place. We asked around a lot to figure out where a motel was and eventually the cutest little boy stopped playing with his friends to help us. Granted he swindled Sully out of ten bucks for some ice cream.

He led us to a peach colored building with a bright pink door beneath a white archway. We thanked the kid and headed in to get rooms. We dragged our tired bodies up a couple steps and down a hall, decorated with lovely carpeting. When I got to my door, I leaned my head on it, tiredly.

“I’m gonna get some shut-eye for a while and then we can go out.” He grumbled, swinging his room keys around his fingers.

“Sounds like a plan.” I said, saluting as I watched him go into his room. “ See you at 16:00 hours, Captain?”

“At ease, sailor.” He joked, closing his door.

I’d taken a very long hot shower. I let the scalding water crash over my skin in hopes that it would calm me but it seemed that I’d just be restless for the day. For some reason, I just couldn’t get myself together. I was jet lagged like a mother and worried about Sam- about the whole job really. He warned me that he wouldn’t be able to contact me until he saw me but it didn’t make it any easier. And more importantly: when?! I still had not a clue how it was going to pan out. In the midst of all my stressors, I managed to dress myself in a black tee shirt and camo printed fitted skinny jeans before falling asleep in my bed. Then suddenly, I found myself dreaming…

Bright lights shined in my eyes, practically blinding me. I could hear the fat bass of music in the speakers above me and the roar of many men in front of me. It smelled like cigarettes and booze. A scent that was all too familiar to me. I blinked a couple times when I heard a voice yell at me. “Aye! Move your ass!” I looked off to the side to see Jet scowling at me. I realized I was in Headlights and that I was on stage. So I began to move. The last I checked I wasn’t working here anymore. But I still did as I was told. When my set finished, I walked about the club. Men complimenting me on my ass and the girls I worked with complimenting me on my set. Each time a girl talked to me, I managed to find myself asking them, “Have you seen Sam? He was supposed to wait here for me.” and every answer was a solid “who?” or that they hadn’t seen him. Jet approached me at the bar and handed me a wad of cash and ordered a shot for himself, slapping me on my ass harshly as my eyes scanned the crowd.

“What are you lookin’ for?” He asked me, taking a shot and ordering from the bartender behind me again.

“Sam. He said he’d wait here…” I said. Jet just snickered.

“Oh, that guy. He’s in one of the private rooms around back. He said to come find him when you were finished.” He told me, rolling his eyes. A smile crept onto my face as I started off to the room. I didn’t know how I knew which one he was in but I did. I walked down a ridiculously long red hallway and stopped at the very last door. My heart beat seemed to grow louder in my ears as I put my hand on the golden door knob; just a steady pace. I wasn’t at all prepared for what I saw when I swung the door open.

Moans hit my ears the moment the door cracked open. I could feel my face turn into a hard frown and my eyes strained, trying to make sure what I was seeing wasn’t real. Sam was sat in a plush red chair with a girl’s head between his legs, his head thrown back as he groaned and called her “princess”. His fingers delved into her long dark hair as her head bobbed up and down in his lap, her hand curled around his cock as she worked. I couldn’t control my feet. I walked further into the room, knocking something over and stopping in my tracks as my face heated up and tears welled in my eyes, my lips trembling. They stung as they gathered up, threatening to fall hot and heavy from my lids. He looked up at me a moment and uttered my name with a shiver. My heart shattered as this girl stood and pulled her panties down and sat on his cock with a loud sigh. I tried to get a look at her face but her dark tresses hung over her face. My breathing became ragged when she began rocking her hips into his. The two of them started panting as they fucked each other, but Sam’s eyes never left mine.

“Sunny…” he whispered repeatedly, gripping onto her hips to fuck her deeper. Suddenly he began yelling my name. Something overwhelmed me and the tears fell over my cheeks without permission. I backed away as he screamed at me ferociously and I turned to run away. But no matter how hard I tried to bolt down this obscenely long hallway, I just couldn’t seem to run fast enough. And when I finally could, I found myself back in the front of the club, sobbing uncontrollably. I could feel my heart speeding up, my chest heaving as I hyperventilated, running into tables, knocking things over and waitresses, making a mess of things. I looked at the hall I ran from, backing up and hoping that I’d see Sam running after me, but he was nowhere to be found. I screamed as hard as I could but no sound could be heard, only the loud music in the speakers. I turned to run out of the club but something tripped me. I suddenly found my feet swept from under me and my head slammed hard on the corner of the stage, knocking me out—

Suddenly, I was awake. I shot up from the bed, sweating, trying to catch my breath as a single tear fell from my eye. I looked around and ran my hands over my body, pushing my hair back to make sure I was okay. I was fine. I was in my hotel room. I let out one solid sob and I sat at the foot of my bed, my fingers gripping onto the mattress. “Fuck!” I exclaimed. I wanted to throw something. Anything. But there was nothing around that would give me that satisfaction so I punched a pillow a couple times. I put my face in my hands and grunted, shaking myself of the icky feeling that had come about. That’s when I heard a knock on my door. I stopped myself a moment and sniffled, trying to pull myself together even though my heart was still racing like I’d just run a marathon. I went to open the door and Sully stood there all bright eyed and awake. Then he got a good look at my face.

“You alright, Sunny? You don’t look so good.” He asked in a concerned tone. I gave a big sigh and shook the nerves off, putting on a big smile.

“I’m fine! I just had a weird dream, that’s all….!” I laughed as authentically as possible. I didn’t need anyone worrying about whether I could do the job or not.

“You sure?” He winced, giving my face a once over.

“Yeah! I’m great! Let’s do this.” I said, backing into my room. I grabbed my sunglasses and shoved my feet into my black boots, closing the door behind me. “Lead the way!”

“So I was thinkin’! 4x4 then dinner?” Sully proposed, raising a thick brow.

“YES. I’m starving.” I said linking my arm with his and we strolled along the dusty streets of the city.

#uncharted #sam drake #samuel drake #samuel drake x reader #uncharted x reader #uncharted smut #sam drake fanfiction #sam drake x reader smut #sam drake smut #victor sullivan #poc ocs #poc oc #poc

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

What Happens, Stays

The Nevada sky was ablaze as last rays of the sun disappeared behind the mountains, casting the old stretch of desert highway in total darkness.  Not a single car had gone by in two hours, so the attendants of the Last Chance gas station prepared themselves for another long night of tedium.

Charlie had left his post at the register to meander aimlessly around the two aisles of concessions. The morning guy wasn’t clocking in until 4 AM, so he tried his best to keep himself entertained.  He started off the night by studying the Nutrition Facts on the back of candy wrappers, but soon grew tired of this little endeavor. Later, he began stacking boxes of store brand pop tarts into a makeshift pyramid, but again became bored.  With nothing left to clean or stock, Charlie made his way back to counter, stopping at the brochure display to examine a tourist map to Las Vegas.  His dad had always promised to take him to Vegas one day.

“When you grow up, kiddo.”

Charlie neatly folded the brochure and stuffed it in his uniform’s chest pocket.

He sat back down on his stool, groaning over its lack of back support, and reached under the counter for one of his boss’s dog-eared detective novels.  Older than most people he knew, the book’s pages were yellow and brittle, many of the corners having snapped off from being folded over a few times too many.  He wouldn’t admit it to any of his friends, but he had grown fond of these old pulp novels, his only source of entertainment besides the CCTV that hung in the far corner.  When he first started working here he would often make faces into the camera, watching himself on the TV like a child mugging into a funhouse mirror.  This pastime soon grew old, and while he had already read every book in Duke’s collection, he found himself returning to each of them every few weeks.

Duke was in the back room, the glorified supply closet he called an office.  He sat in an old lawn chair at the poker table he used as a desk, gong over the day’s receipts.  There weren’t many, but he had little else to do until morning.

“Hey Duke,” Charlie called, “I gotta go to the restroom, can you man the store?”

“You ain’t in high school no more, bud.  Don’t gotta ask permission to take a leak.”

Charlie grabbed the key to the men’s room and headed out to the cinder block hut next to the pumps. The women’s room key was attached to a comically large pair of sunglasses, while the men’s was chained to an old VHS tape with ‘Burning Man 91’ hastily scrawled across the yellowed masking tape.

Burning man.  There was another one his dad promised to take him to, years ago.

“Road trip, kiddo. Just me ‘n you, Chuckaroo.”

His dad made a lot of promises he never kept.

Charlie had barely left the store when he saw the RV, bouncing down the pothole covered road, making a beeline straight for the station.  Its headlights were off, but he could see through the windshields that the lights were on inside. Whoever was driving wasn’t slowing down, and for a second Charlie expected them to crash into the pumps.  Thoughts of a fiery death vanished as the RV’s brakes let out an otherworldly shriek, skidding to a precarious stop doubled parked just inches beside pumps 3 and 4. Charlie let out a sigh of relief and walked back into the station.

“Scratch that, boss,” he called, “customers.”  He retook his place at the register and adjusted the sign Duke had unceremoniously taped to the card reader.  NETWORK DOWN, CASH ONLY.  Charlie waited dutifully for the RV’s occupants, the engine knocking and pinging as it cooled off.

It’s door slammed open, adding another dent to its pockmarked exterior, and out fell a disheveled man.  Charlie figured he was a little older than himself, late twenties maybe.  He could hear voices yelling from inside the RV, but could only make out the man’s responses.

“No, absolutely not! Scott is going to get the gas, you stay put.  Fredo, do not let him out of this RV, I swear to God- Do not… Cause you’re a MESS, that’s why!”

Visibly seething, the man lumbered his way into the store, letting out a disgruntled hiss through gritted teeth the second the door closed behind him.  He stood there for a moment, eyes shut tight like a 12-stepper trying and failing to find his happy place, awakening from his rage induced trance only after Charlie set his book down with a near inaudible flop.  The man took a deep breath and glided over to the counter.

“Hey, listen, do you got, like, one of those… thingies...”

Charlie sat with concerned confusion as the man fumbled for the right word, physically grasping at the air with one hand.

“Handle. Purse.  Bag- Basket!  That’s the one.  Like a grocery basket, you got any of those?”

Charlie shook his head, a slight wince breaking across his face.  The man thanked him anyway and floated over to the fridge at the far end of the store.  He stood there, propping the door open with his body for much longer than Charlie was comfortable with, letting all the cold out.  Just as he was about to speak up, the man trudged back to the counter laden with a dozen bottles of water hugged tightly to his chest.  He placed them on the counter, and left to make another trip. He had soon cleared out the Zephyrhills and was working his way through the Aquafina when he nearly dropped his armful in shock as Duke exited his office.

“Hey bud, you think you can handle this? I’mma go take a leak myself.”

Both Charlie and the man stood frozen, following Duke with their eyes until he vanished into the bathroom hut.  With that, the man let out a loud sigh, not so much relieved as just tired, and made his way back to the register to finish his transaction.  He shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot as Charlie began adding up the total on a pocket calculator, a deafening silence filling the store.

“Eight-eight-three-five,” the man stated, unprompted.  Charlie didn’t know what he meant until he pressed enter, and saw that the man’s total was indeed $88.35 after tax.  “We also need 200 on pump… uh, which one is it... 3? 4? Whichever, I dunno.”

He reached into his pockets and pulled out a crumbled wad of cash, plopping down three $100 bills and continuing his nervous shifts as he waited for his change.  Charlie took the sweaty bills and splayed them out as flat as he could. He was about to mark them with the counterfeit pen when he noticed the feed on the CCTV had been cut.

“God damn it,” the man sighed.

The door flew open with a violent kick, and in stepped a man wearing a children’s Halloween mask, a pair of wire cutters in one hand, and a Smith & Wesson in the other.

“Don’t fucking move. Open the register right fucking now.”

“God damn it, Hank!” the first man yelled, “I told you to wait in the RV!”

Charlie was a deer in the headlights, standing there speechless with his hands up in front of him. The gunman’s only response was to level the weapon at his forehead, finger placed firmly on the trigger.  He reeked of alcohol, and much of it could be seen staining his t-shirt and jeans.  Charlie still didn’t move, but his breath quickened to short gasps.

Outside, two other men, presumably Scott and Fredo, were getting into a shoving match over whose job is was to watch who.  One of them stared in through the store window and violently waved for both his colleagues to pile back into the RV before something bad happened.  The other had a gun drawn and kept staring back and forth between the bathroom hut and the station.

The gunman pressed the barrel hard against Charlie’s trembling forehead.  Tears streamed down his face, and he was biting his lower lip so hard he nearly drew blood, but Charlie found himself unable to move his hands to the register like he desperately wanted them to.

“Hank, for Christ’s sake, will you put the gun down, man?  You don’t wanna hurt...” He squinted at Charlie’s name tag. “...Charles, do you?  No, of course not.  What you wanna do is head back to the GOD DAMN RV!“

Hank let out a long snort, and swallowed hard.  He cocked his slightly head to one side, but kept his bloodshot eyes locked on the weeping cashier.  Without lowering the gun, he took a step back, leaving a circular red mark where the barrel had been pressed against his head.

“Any day now, kiddo.”

“Fuckin’ ay Hank, stop it!”  The man haphazardly grabbed at the gun the same way one might try to take a drunk friend’s keys.  Then and only then did Hank lower it to the floor.

Charlie was ghost white, shaking uncontrollably from an adrenaline rush, trying is hardest not to hyperventilate.  The man shot him a desperate look that seemed to say I’m sorry my friend tried to murder you, and began nudging Hank back towards the door.  Hank didn’t move, legs planted firmly in place.  He stuffed the gun back in his belt, and walked over to the counter, never breaking eye contact with Charlie.  In one quick motion he snatched the folded-up brochure sticking out of his pocket.  After giving it a quick glance, he made a noise somewhere between a chuckle and another phlegmy snort.

“See you ‘round, Chuckaroo.”

He turned to exit, knocking over the pyramid of pop tarts with his shoulder as he stumbled out the door.

“Listen, I’m really sorry.” the man said once Hank was out of earshot. “Hey, I’m- this- just- sorry.  He’s, uh, he’s not all there.”  At this he mimed frantic jazz hands, trying to convey some sort of information, but unsure exactly what. He nodded, content with the point he didn’t make, and scooped up as many bottles of water as he could carry. “Just, uh, keep the $300. Sorry. Again, sorry.”

The four men piled into the RV, and Charlie could just make out a heated argument as they slammed the door and peeled out from the station without pumping an ounce of gas.  They continued north, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust and a short trail of skid marks in their wake.

Charlie plopped back down on the stool and doubled over, head between his knees, throwing up a little in his mouth.  He grabbed a wad of napkins from the dispenser next to the hot dog warmer, and wiped away snot and tears as best he could, composing himself as Duke finally exited he men’s room, fanning the air in front of him as he walked back towards the store.

“Hey bud, you might wanna use the ladies’ room, I did something awful in there, it’s-” no sooner had the door closed behind him than he noticed things were off.  Charlie’s eyes were red, nearly glazed over into a thousand-yard stare.  There were boxes of pop tarts all over the ground, and bottles of water all over the counter.  He looked up at the CCTV and saw nothing but static.

“What the fuck?”

Charlie’s face was a stone mask, a million thoughts going through his head.  Before he could say anything, Duke trudged over to his storage office and came out with a large push broom.

“Hey, clean this up, will ya? I’mma go check out the raccoon nest by the camera.  They musta came back and chewed through the line again.”

Charlie flashed two thumbs up and nodded without a word.  With that, Duke went on his crusade.  Just as he suspected, the camera line was chewed straight through, but the little bastards were nowhere in sight.  He’d be sure to put more poison in the trash, though they’d gotten smart last time and picked around it.  Either way, it was an easy fix; he had more coaxial cable in the office.

He walked back inside, and Charlie nearly jumped out of his skin when the bell above the door started ringing.

“What’s eatin’ you, bud?”

“It’s... nothing, boss. I just finished another of your books, and... the ending really freaked me out.”

Duke didn’t buy a word of it, but he didn’t probe any further.  They had worked together for almost five years now, so he knew when Charlie needed some time to think his thoughts.

“We ain’t busy,” he said. “You can clock out early if you want, I got this.”

Charlie thanked him and made his exit, still shaking from the emotional roller coaster he’d just been through. He walked over to the beat up old muscle car his dad had given him for his sixteenth birthday.  That was the last time he’d seen him.  Six whole years had flown by like nothing.

The engine couched to life, and he made his way back to the highway, ready to go home and get some much deserved sleep.  In the distance, he saw two blinking yellow lights, just out of sync with one another, looping back and forth as they almost lined up.  When he got closer, he saw it was a rusted blue road sign, HIGHWAY ADVISORY, TUNE TO 1640 AM, URGENT MESSAGE WHEN FLASHING.  

Any other time he would have ignored this, it was usually just warning about a car crash some fifty or sixty miles away, but tonight he tuned in.  He caught the tail end of a police report asking listeners to call the crime stoppers tip hotline, before it started again from the top.

There was a bank robbery in San Diego a few days ago, a big job, millions of dollars, and the four perps managed to up and disappear.  The FBI had identified the suspects via facial recognition, and the announcer listed off their names and descriptions, before again urging people to come forward with any tips that may lead to their arrest.  Repeat.

Charlie must have listened to the message five or six times, and without thinking he had pulled out his phone and typed in the hotline number. He paused at the last second, thumb hovering forlornly over the dial button, and he eased on the brakes, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the road.  His headlights were the only ones for miles, the only other signs of civilization being the blinking road sign and the fluorescent glow of the gas station some ways behind him.  The rest of the world was bathed in shadow, a dark sagebrush sea that stretched to the invisible mountains on the horizon.

His apartment was a little south of the station, but after some deep thought, he turned off his phone and threw it into the passenger seat, before making a three point turn and heading north on Route 95.  He soon passed another rusted road sign which told him Las Vegas 58 Miles.

His eyes kept darting to the phone beside him, so he tossed it into the backseat.  He knew he would probably regret this later, but right now nothing else mattered to him.  He blew by the Last Chance gas station, and figured the RV couldn’t have made it even halfway to Vegas if they were running on empty.  He’d filled up his own tank before he clocked in for his shift, so he was good to go; he’d catch up to them in no time.  He gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles were white.

“Just me ‘n you, dad.”

#my stuff #my writing #short story #Nevada #desert #Las Vegas #last chance #gas station #Mojave desert #Burning Man #RV #middle of nowhere #on a dark desert highway #liminal space #nostalgia #uncanny #Twilight Zone #slice of life #Americana #American West #True West #Rocky Mountains #Great Basin #what happens in vegas #stays in vegas

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Find Your Light: Part 3

Pairings: Jason Momoa x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff

Word Count: 3,260

Part 1 / Part 2

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

“Alright, can I count on you not to wiggle to much?” Jason asked as he pushed his long, pale green paddle board deeper into the water. “‘Cause if you wiggle too much, you’re going in the water.” You giggled and nodded as you held his paddle out in front of you for balance.

“I think I can stay stra- oo!” Your hands flew out to the side and you nearly hit yourself in the head with the paddle as Jason launched himself out of the water to lay on the board behind you. He laughed and waited to make sure you were steady before he moved again.

“I told you you can’t wiggle to much, nani.”

“I got it. I am in control of the wiggle.” He chuckled as he braced himself on the edges of the board. With skilled, practiced ease, he pulled his feet under him and stood up. With a quick glance, you passed him the paddle and smiled. “See. I am a wiggle master!” He chuckled and started paddling away from shore.

“You say that now but what happens when your butt goes numb?” You shrugged and reached out to drag your fingers in the cool, blue water.

“Then I guess we’re going swimming until it stops being numb, how ‘bout them apples?” You felt the paddle tap your back and you glanced up at Jason as he pointed off to your right side. You looked over as a single dolphin breeched the surface of the water about twenty feet away. “God I am so freaking jealous you call this home!”

“Well I’m sure that North Carolina is beautiful, too.” You couldn’t help but sigh and shrug as you watched the dolphin swim away.

“It was where I grew up. But Charlotte is just so dang busy.” You shook your head and took a deep breath as you looked out over the ocean at the island in the distance. Jason stayed silent, knowing that you were going to open up eventually about what happened since you almost blatantly avoided the topic when you were telling him about yourself over breakfast.

“Hated that damn town.” You said as you dragged your fingers in the water, creating little ripple patterns. “It’s weird. When I was a kid, getting out of Boone and off the farm was my big dream. And those damn pageants…” You scoffed and shook your head. “But then I met David and I got out of pageants and I got off the farm. And he gave me money which, looking back now, just basically made me a hooker. But that didn’t even matter to me back then. I just jumped right in and said ‘sure, I’ll take five grand a week to be your little slut sugar baby. Why the fuck not’.” You sighed as you covered your face and shook your head.

“You know, I think I always knew he was cheating.” You sighed as you carefully leaned back on your hands and stretched your legs out in front of you. You hadn’t realized that your natural southern accent, which you had been hiding for years at David’s insistence, was starting to come out in full force in your aggravation. “After the first year of bein’ with him, he started doublin’ my ‘allowance’ and he started goin' ‘out’a town’ a lot more frequently than he used ta. But I was just… so fuckin’ blinded by the money that I told myself I didn’t care.

But thank God I had at least one brain cell that wasn’t damaged by all the damn bottled blonde that started puttin’ most’a the money he was givin’ me in a bank account in my mama’s name. But honestly, what kinda respectable woman allows herself to be treated like that, huh? What kinda woman sits in a loveless relationship and just ignores the fact that goin’ months… I’m talkin’ months without gettin’ laid is OK because he buys me stuff. I’m fuckin’ pathetic.” With a groan, you covered your face and laid back on the paddle board as tears stung your eyes. “What is wrong with me?” You felt drops of water land on your stomach and you forced yourself to open your eyes.

“There’s not a single thing wrong with you.” Jason said softly as he carefully crouched down over you so he was blocking the sun. “Money is a bitch. It makes even the smartest, most amazing people do stupid things. And that’s what happened to you, ku’uipo. But if you were really pathetic, would you have walked out on your wedding from the alter the way you did? Would you have though to put the money aside for when you were finally able to allow yourself to see the truth and not get blinded by the glare of this giant rock you have on your finger?” You blushed as he tapped his knuckle on your engagement ring.

“Stop!” You squealed as you hid your face behind your hand. He chuckled as he picked up your hand by the ring. He laid the paddle across your stomach and easily sat down on the board above your head.

“You know you’re beating yourself up for no reason, right? Sure, you got blinded for a few years… but you made sure you came out on top in the end, didn’t you?” You nodded at him as he gently took your hand in his and slowly pulled your ring off. “But now, you gotta let go. Give the pain and the heartbreak to the Gods and let the ocean wash it away.” He took your other hand and slid the ring on your middle finger. “Sure, that chapter was bad but it’s over. Close that book and start a new one, right here, right now. Let your Hawaiian vacation be your fresh start.” You nodded as you slowly reached up and brushed his long hair back behind his ear.

“Will you start it with me?” You whispered as you searched his green eyes. An award winning smile spread across his face and he nodded.

“I would be honored.” He leaned forward slightly and cupped your jaw in his large calloused hands. He brushed his thumb across your bottom lip as he searched your eyes for permission. With a small nod, he leaned forward and captured your lips with his. You let out a small whimper as you forgot where you were and started to twist. Before you could even brace yourself, you flipped the paddle board before Jason could steady it and sent you both into the chilly ocean. You felt his hand grip your arm firmly and he nearly threw you to the surface.

“I forgot to control the wiggle!” You laughed as you rubbed the salt water from your eyes. He chuckled as he grabbed your waist and pulled you over to the board.

“I told you. You should have listened to me.” You smiled at him as you wrapped your legs around his waist and ran your fingers through his hair. “And just so you know… I love the accent.” You blushed and hid your face in his shoulder.

“Damn. You know how long I’ve been hidin’ it?” You sat back and looked at him as he shook his head.

“No more hiding. Not from me, OK?” You smiled and slowly shook your head.

“No more hidin’.”

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

“Mama! We’re here! Stella!” You called out as you walked into the old, quaint, country style house that you grew up in. You dropped your purse and the duffle with your wedding dress in it on the ground in the living room and crouched down to grab your fur baby off the floor. You squealed at her as she attacked your face with kisses since she hadn’t seen you in a week.

“Back porch!” Sarabeth called out as you looked back at Jason.

“You OK?” You checked in as he set your and his suitcases by the door.

“Ku’uipo, I’m on vacation. I’m great!” You smiled at him and nodded as you turned to show him your dog.

“This is Stella. She’s my little shadow. If you ever need to find me, look for Stella. I will be near by.” He laughed and nodded as he reached out and gently scratched her head around her big pink bow.

“Tiny little thing.” He said as you passed your dog to him and headed toward the kitchen. Your mother glanced up as she walked in from tending to her small herb garden and did a double take with a laugh.

“Well look at you!” She said as she rinsed off her fingers and wiped her hands on her gardening apron. “I don’t know what I love more; seeing my baby girl back home again or her murderer looking boyfriend holding a tiny dog.” You turned around to look at Jason and tried to stifle a giggle.

“Oh, my Lord, you’re right! Wait, J, come here.” He stepped toward you and leaned down with a sigh to let you pull his hair into a bun on top of his head like Stella’s was. When you were done, he stood up straight and you and your mom burst out laughing. Jason had this look of pure hatred on his face, making him actually look like a murderer as he held your yorkie in the crook of his arm. He curled his lip up the slightest bit as he reached up with his free hand and brushed his fingers down his beard.

“Alright, you need to stop that ‘fore you burn my damn house down with that smolder.” Your mom teased as she whacked at his hip with a kitchen towel. Stella barked at her in protection as she gave him a hug hello, causing you and Jason to laugh. “Welcome home, baby girl.” You smiled at her as she kissed your cheek. “I got your old room set up for you. It’s a little messy with your stuff from the house but it’ll work until you…” She smiled weakly at you, trying to hide the hint of sadness in her eyes and shrugged. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart.”

“Thanks mama. We’re gunna go put our bags in my room and maybe lay down for a minute.” She nodded at you and smiled.

“Supper’s at six like always so I’ll wake y’all up. Makin’ biscuits an’ gravy, fried eggs, sausage and bacon. All comfort foods.” You smiled at her and nodded before taking Stella from your boyfriend and heading back through the living room.

“Breakfast for dinner?” Jason asked to change the subject as he grabbed the two suitcases and the duffle bag off the floor. You giggled as you grabbed your purse and led him to your childhood bedroom.

“It’s a staple in this house. We do it once a week.” You paused at the door and looked back at him. “Now… ya ain’t allowed to judge me ‘cause of my bedroom, ya hear?” He cocked his eyebrows at you as you sighed and pushed the door open. You couldn’t help but cringe at the bright, pastel pink walls and the dozens of trophies, crowns and sashes on the walls from your pageant days. Garbage bags and boxes over flowing with stuff from your old house were stacked in the corner and along the wall under the two windows that looked out over the back and side of your house and the acres of Christmas trees your family had been growing and selling for generations. You closed your eyes and shook your head as Jason stepped into the room.

“Wow… that’s a whole lotta pink.” You scowled and gently pushed on his arm as you set Stella down on your frilly, pink blanket. You sighed and sat down on your bed.

“Yay to being back home.” You ran your hand through your hair and looked up at Jason. “Well. I think your vacation is going to consist of helping me paint… and get new blankets for my bed.” You glanced around your room and huffed. “And help me pack some of this shit up.” He reached out and cupped your jaw in his hands.

“I’d be happy to. Let’s start small though? And… maybe tomorrow? I gotta try some of this real southern cooking and get a good power nap” You smiled at him as he gave you a chaste kiss and sat down on the bed beside you. He picked up Stella and put her on his stomach as he pat the bed next to him and laid down.

“God, where have you been all my life with all your sexiness and your heart of pure gold?” He chuckled as you laid your head down on his shoulder with a sigh.

“In a surf shop in Hawaii… or in the Keys studying Marine Biology. Maybe wildlife biology in Colorado, painting in Paris or studying the Buddhist teachings in Tibet.” You looked up at his smirk sarcastically and rolled your eyes. You muttered ‘smart ass’ as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. He kissed your forehead as Stella walked in a circle on his chest, laid down, and went to sleep. You giggled and snuggled into his side with a content smile and closed your eyes for a quick nap, too.

Part 4

#Jason Momoa x Reader #Find Your Light

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

Kitty Cartoons.

Part of the ‘Here Kitty, Kitty’ challenge over on AO3 a Gallavich story involving a cat. Fun and fluffy and set in season 1. Thanks for reading :) xx

The street was fairly quiet. Summer had one of two effects on the residents of Chicago’s South Side, it either made them loud and raucous, like a mob on the verge of total mayhem with parties raging into the small hours and out the other side, undiminished in their ferocity. Or, on days like today, people were slow and quiet, subdued by the heat and the light which managed to creep and stray into every crevice.

Only the most diligent people would work today and Debbie Gallagher was nothing if not diligent. She had dragged her deck chair out to the front of the house, poured herself a pitcher of water and set up her rickety easel on the cracked paving slabs. She set out her example pieces and hung up her price list.

She did better trade when the adults of the neighbourhood had been drinking, they were more likely to egg each other on and commission several pieces at once. Still, she persisted and worked on her tan during the long wait between customers … well … not really worked on it, more like worked on trying not to burn too much. She applied sun-cream every hour and set her egg timer to make sure she didn’t forget. It was as she was reapplying cream to the back of her legs that a shadow fell over her and Debbie glanced up startled.

“What the fuck is this?”

Debbie blinked up at the trio of teenage boys and swallowed heavily. She hadn’t heard them coming but rumour was that when the Milkovich’s meant business, you never did. All three were wearing grubby shorts and tank tops, but the steel toes of their boots were just as formidable in the sun as in snow.

“This is my new professional venture, it operates on Friday, Saturday – that’s today…”

Debbie tried a smile but did not receive one in return. The shortest Milkovich drew heavily on the last dregs of a cigarette before flicking the butt over his shoulder in a shower of sparks. Debbie cleared her throat nervously and pressed on.

“…and, um, Wednesday.”

The two bigger boys looked bored of her already but the other one who had asked the question, whose name she thought might be Ricky or Mitch, or something like that, was looking at her with something close to amusement.

“Professional venture, huh? You sellin’ lemonade?”

“Not today. That is available Monday, Tuesday, and most Sundays.”

Debbie bit the inside of her cheeks as one of the older brother’s reached past her to pick up one of the samples.

“Um … if you are interested, my business is called ‘Kitty Cartoons’ I can draw anyone as a kitty… a cat.”

Debbie amended hastily as the boy holding the drawing frowned.

“Mickey, this is bullshit. It’s our turf. This fuckin’ kid is making it look like a playground.”

“It’s public property!”

Debbie shot back and then took a step backwards as the huge mountain of unwashed teen-boy lowered the picture and glared at her directly.

“So?”

“So I can trade here too.”

Mickey discretely placed himself between Joey and the little redhead. He had no problem with telling the Gallagher kid to fuck off, maybe even tipping the stand over if it seemed appropriate, but there was no need to scare her. Joey always went straight to physical intimidation; it was, in Mickey’s opinion, why he couldn’t get shit done properly. Smack heads, drunks, or women beaters – sure. You get up in those guys faces straight away and show ‘em who’s boss. But other people required more subtlety. Besides it wasn’t like they were actually going to rough up a kid, especially a girl.

“Ay! I ain’t decided if you can trade here or not, little orphan Annie.”

“Original.”

Debbie dead-panned and Mickey decided he liked at least two Gallagher’s. He smirked at her and glanced at the house, licking his lip absently

“Your brother’s home?”

“Yes. My Dad too …”

Mickey looked back down at Debbie and his smile took her by surprise

“Frank’s a useless shit, kid. Better off learning to use your own fists than ever relying on him.”

Debbie let out the breath she had been holding and squared her shoulders.

“I don’t need to! Your reputation would suffer if people knew you beat up a little girl in the street for selling cartoons. Hmm?”

Mickey’s smile, already prettier than Debbie had expected, blossomed into a beautiful grin and despite her heart pounding in her chest, she smiled back at him. It was impossible not to. Mickey was about to say something when the front door flew open and Lip and Ian burst onto the front porch. Lip was holding the bat at his shoulder and he took the steps in one jump, though when he spoke, his voice was cheerful enough

“Hey Mickey! Joey, Tony. How’s it going?”

“Pretty good. Too hot though.”

Lip nodded as if the small talk was all in neighbourly fun.

“Yeah, yeah. So what’s up?”

Mickey shrugged, his gaze flicking between Lip and Ian, lingering on Ian for just as long as he dared. He was shirtless and his hair was damp, like he’d just got out of the shower. Mickey took a deep breath and flexed his biceps a little, drawing himself up to his full height, so that he was just a smidge taller than Ian.

“Nothin’. Just explaining to … what’s your name?”

“Debbie.”

“Right, Debbie, that this is our turf. As a rule we don’t like other businesses on it.”

“It’s a cartoon stand run by a little kid, Mickey.”

Ian said, frowning as he stepped up beside Lip, though his hand came to rest on the bat, urging it down and well away from Mickey’s face.

“Yeah and I see that, but my Dad sent us over to have a look cause he heard it was somethin’ else.”

“It’s not.”

Ian retorted flatly and Mickey licked his lip again, squinting down the street as if looking for something on the horizon. He didn’t understand why, and maybe it was just because Gallagher made his balls fizz like a crazy fucked up cola can, but he didn’t like the thought of displeasing Ian. It was the only reason he had bothered to get out of bed and traipse the few blocks over to the Gallagher house with Tony and Joey. The whole thing really shouldn’t have been his problem but he didn’t want shit going down that didn’t have to because a fall out with the Gallagher clan would mean a fall out with Ian and Mickey liked what they had going on. Whatever the fuck it was.

“I could do you a free drawing?”

“What?”

Mickey had pretty much forgotten Debbie was there and he looked down now with a scowl.

“I have black and blue pencils so your hair and eyes will be fine and I could do your tattoos on the kitty’s paws so it’s more tailored to your unique style.”

Joey snorted and Tony made a noise that could have been a sign of amusement or a phlegmy throat but it was Ian who Mickey found himself looking at again. His eyes had taken on that particular shine they got when he was hoping things would play out a certain way… normally Mickey only saw that look when he stomped into the Kash’n’Grab and Ian looked up eagerly, like Mickey was actually important or some shit. It was like a blend of excitement and hope that Mickey was there for him, which he always fuckin’ was, and seeing that look was one of the best parts of Mickey’s day.

Despite the fact that he was on a job for his dad.

Despite the fact that his brother’s and that asshole, Lip were stood there.

Despite the fact that it was the middle of the day in the middle of the street, Mickey felt himself softening and suddenly the thought of a little girl drawing a kitty version of him as payment for setting up on Milkovich turf seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

“Fine. But it better look badass.”

Debbie grabbed her pad and colouring pencils and pointed to the deck chair.

“Sit, please.”

Mickey lowered himself down, tongue firmly set in his cheek and Debbie held up a pencil and squinted through one eye at him.

“What would you say a cat’s best qualities are?”

“What?”

Mickey’s brows knitted together and he spread his hands in an exasperated gesture

“I don’t know. They’re sneaky and shit. They can see in the dark, which is cool I guess.”

“Actually, that’s a myth, although their vision is ...”

Lip trailed off as blue eyes narrowed in his direction, then rolled lazily in the direction of the older Milkovich’s, who both moved ever so slightly closer. Lip shoved a smoke between his lips and stayed quiet about the attributes and capabilities of cats.

His point proven, Mickey turned his attention back to Debbie who was carefully sketching an outline

“How much do you sell these for?”

“A dollar.”

“How much you made so far?”

“Thirty three dollars.”

Mickey nodded and rubbed a finger down the bridge of his nose.

“Fine, that don’t seem to be much of a problem to me. You done?”

“I need to do the paws…”

“Well hurry it up, I got shit to do.”

“Hey!”

Ian cocked his head to the side and gave Mickey a sharp look which Mickey mostly ignored but when Debbie presented him with the drawing, he gave Ian a cursory side-eye after thanking her to be sure his appreciation had been sincere enough. A small smile and a nod confirmed that it had been.

The cartoon was actually pretty good. Cat-Mickey was lean, scrappy looking thing, scowling from large blue eyes, a cigarette poking out between neat little fangs and distinct lettering across its white paws.

Joey and Tony realised that whatever promise of a fight had hung in the air when the Gallagher boys came out had disappeared into the hazy heat of the day, along with any chance of trashing the kids stall. If Mickey was satisfied, and the chaos was cancelled, they were going home.

“We’re leaving.”

Joey grunted and Mickey waved him off without looking up.

“You good?”

Lip had been observing the play by play of events and whatever was going on between Ian and Mickey Milkovich was clearly nothing he wanted any part of. Weirdly his little brother seemed to be the one in control of the situation and although it was disappointing not to be able to crack Mickey with the bat; it was also probably for the best.

“Yeah, thanks. Debs, you want to take a break? I’ll call you if you get a customer.”

Ian ruffled his sister’s hair as she bounded past him, following Lip up the steps into their home.

“See ya, Mickey!”

Debbie called and disappeared inside, leaving Mickey and Ian on opposite sides of the thin mesh fence. Mickey turned the cartoon so Ian could see it and grinned at the redheads smiling reaction.

“You’d make a good cat.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d pet you.”

“Fuck off.”

Mickey smeared away the goofy smile with the pad of his thumb and folded the picture, stuffing it in his shorts pocket.

“Am I seeing you later?”

He asked, hoping that there was no desperation in his voice.

“Sure. Three? Usual place?”

“Yep. See ya.”

Mickey turned on his heel and began to walk down the street when Ian called after him. Ordinarily he would have kept walking and let Gallagher wear his throat out yelling or come running if he had something to say. But Mickey was never too sure about what sort of stupid shit might come out of Gallagher’s mouth so he turned around and walked back.

“What?”

Ian knew better than to lay hands on Mickey, but he fixed him with a look that blew the older boys pupils wide in an expression that Ian knew all too well but disregarded for the moment.

“Mickey, you ever come after my little sister again, I’ll kick your ass.”

Whatever he had been expecting it wasn’t a threat and Mickey shifted his feet uneasily as his body stirred.

“Bitch, you wish!”

He managed once the blood began to flow back toward his brain, but it was a feeble quip and had no real heat to it. A drunk lady swayed around the corner, her arm around a friend who was equally intoxicated.

“See you at three, Mickey.”

Ian let the expression on his face soften and gave Mickey a lopsided grin, before turning and hurrying up the steps to get Debbie.

#shameless #Shameless US #mickey milkovich #Ian Gallagher #ian x mickey #season 1 Shameless #Cute #Here kitty kitty

[sigurdjarlson]

Here's a story you'll appreciate. When I played the Exodar scenario in Legion for the first time, I was listening to Hamilton. And Velen saying "I am neither Prophet nor pawn, not any longer" happened EXACTLY at the same time as "I'm erasing myself from the narrative" in Burn.

Dude how dare u................how dare u. BURN in reference to these boys? Ouch ouch ouch

I decided to go listen because listening to music and applying it to my otps is something i do all the time. (im lame af yeah) and alright here are the lyrics that really got me for them

“I saved every letter you wrote me. From the moment I read them I knew you were mine. You said you were mine. I thought you were mine.”

Iguhhhh like imagine Velen and KJ before all the shit. Although they don’t really need letters if they can speak telepathically...ugh ignore that. They both seem like the type to write long letters to each other for literally no reason except they enjoy it. (and can keep them.)

“Be careful with that one, love. He will do what it takes to survive.”

*gestures towards KJ* self explanatory. 

“You and your words flooded my senses. Your sentences left my defenseless. You built me palaces out of paragraphs, you built cathedrals. I’m re-reading the letters you wrote me, I’m searching and scanning for answers in every line for some kind of sign of when you were mine. The world seemed to...burn.”

UGHHhhhh Velen about KJ.

“You published the letters she wrote you. You told the whole world how you brought this girl into our bed. In clearing your name you have ruined our lives.”

Now, here. They mention Velen had a wife. If we go with the KJ was in love with him theory..we know how KJ is. He would have taken this horribly. (I’m pretty sure he killed her oop) So this could be KJ when he finds out? Fuckin drama queen KJ. (maybe they were in a relationship prior to the legion fucking everything up? Maybe they never were but were always dancing around it? It was always there but never said or acted upon)

“You have married an Icarus, he has flown to close to the sun.” 

KJ of course. Flew to high...and burned. 

“I’m erasing myself from the narrative. Let future historians wonder how [Eliza] reacted when you broke her heart You have torn it all apart. I’m watching it burn.”

NNngnh here’s the part you sent me. And this is totally Velen after Rakeesh. He just..it breaks him. 

The world has no right to my heart, the world has no place in our bed. They don’t get to know what I said. I’m burning the memories, burning the letters that might have redeemed you. You forfeit all rights to my heart, you forfeit the place in our bed, you’ll sleep in your office instead. With only the memories of when you were mine.”

“I hope that you burn...” 

Velen afterwards. Finally snapping. Burning the letters he kept and being like “Fuck you Kil’jaden”

but okay when I was writing my post I was listening to It’s Quiet Uptown and i was gonna throw these lyrics into the mix for MAXIMUM IMPACT but then thought it’d be weird. But hey whatever we all apply songs to our otps right? ...Right? 

in reference to Rakeesh and what he did to him. *slams its quiet uptown into this ask* imagine this with the boys. KJ being Alexander here and Velen is Eliza lmao. (okay that’s hilarious but it needed to be specified)

Like redeemed KJ going to talk to Velen about...everything. Finally voicing all his regret and guilt. And then them tentatively trying to build something out of the ashes.

Look at where we are, look at where we started. I know I don’t deserve you [Eliza] but hear me out, that would be enough. if i could spare his life, if i could trade his life for mine. He would be standing here right now and you would smile and that would be enough. i don’t pretend to know the challenges we’re facing, i know there’s no replacing what we lost and you need time..but I’m not afraid. I know who I married. Just let me stay here by your side..that would be enough.

if you see them in the street, walking by her side, talking by her side, have pity.  “[Eliza] do you like it uptown? Its quiet uptown?” He is trying to do the unimaginable. See them walking in the park, long after dark, taking in the sights of the city. “Look around, look around, [Eliza]”

There are moments that the words don’t reach. There’s a grace too powerful to name. We push away what we can never understand, we push away the unimaginable. They are standing in the garden, [Alexander] by [Eliza’s] side, she takes his hand. 

It’s quiet uptown. 

Forgiveness....can you imagine? 

MY HEARt. Like imagine this shit it’s so painful and touching. 

[irish-nlessing]

Making The Grade - St. Paddy’s Day

A/N: This is canon, and occurs shortly after MtG ends.  Enjoy!

Niall had been insistent that Poppy come out for St. Patrick's Day with him, despite her lamenting that he should go out and enjoy time with his friends. He whined and nibbled at her earlobe, pulling her off his desk and onto his lap in his tiny office. “C’mon puppy, ya gotta come out. All my friends wanna meet you.”  Poppy groaned at the nip of his teeth against her skin and at the ridiculous pet name he'd started using more frequently.

“I didn't think it was possible to make my name any more obnoxious, but you've done it Horan.”

Niall giggled softly into her skin and trailed his fingers across the perpetually tattered cuffs of her cozy sweatshirt. “You love it.  Please come out with us. All my mates are flying in - even my idiot cousins that I haven't seen since last Christmas.”

At the mention of Christmas, Poppy’s resolve crumbled. Three months earlier, Niall had cancelled his plans to fly home to Ireland for Christmas when he found out Poppy was spending it alone, holed up in her apartment. She had argued with him that he hadn’t been home in a year, but his insistence that no one should be alone on Christmas  was steadfast.  It had ended up being one of the best holidays she’d ever had.  Poppy sighed and twisted her slender fingers with his thick ones. “Ok. I'll come. I'll meet you guys out though, I've got to finish some articles. How will I be able to find you?”

Niall grinned mischievously and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You won't be able to miss us. Trust me.”

The pub was nearly bursting with people by the time Poppy pushed the heavy door open to squeeze in. A late winter storm had swept through, dusting the campus in a blanket of sloppy wet snowflakes. Brushing a few flakes out of her haphazard bun, she scanned the main room for signs of Niall and his friends.

The back of Poppy's throat prickled harshly, and she struggled to swallow through the tightness.  Meeting people important to Niall was a whole level of intimacy she hadn't bargained for. She didn't even know what they were yet. She knew they were something - but the definition of what was actually happening had yet to be determined.

She straightened out her bright green sweatshirt, and double checked that her shamrock knee socks were pulled up over her leggings. She knew she looked ridiculous, but she figured everyone would be too drunk to notice. She pressed through the throngs of patrons sloshing green beer on each other and scanned the long bar. She heard him before she saw him. His boisterous laugh, the one that only came out when he was genuinely happy (or genuinely drunk) rolled through the air and she headed towards the sound. Nothing could've actually prepared Poppy for what she found at the end of the bar. Half a dozen guys were huddled around each other yelling incoherently. What was shocking though was that they were all wearing matching shamrock suits and flat caps. Actual green suits. Printed with shamrocks. One of the guys noticed Poppy hovering behind them and elbowed the hunched figure next to him. Poppy's confusion turned to bright amusement when Niall spun around and locked his gaze on her.

“Poppy puppy!”

Niall missed the look of sheer horror that passed over her face as he lunged towards her and wrapped her up in a bone-crushing hug. Releasing her, he spun them around to try and divvy out introductions. A pint of Guinness was pressed into her hand along with a shot glass filled to the brim with amber liquid. “Deo, Will, Greg, Matty, Martin. this is my -”, he swallowed and glanced sideways at her face, “this is Poppy.”  

The boys all greeted her warmly, while Deo leaned forward to shout his greeting. “Nice t’meet you Niall's Poppy!” He smirked at her and winked over her shoulder at Niall. Poppy felt Niall’s fingers grip her shoulder a little tighter.

“Oh um it's just…..just Poppy.”

“Sure it is love. Slainte.”

Poppy nodded and tipped the shot glass to her lips forcing the burning liquid down her throat. Poppy actually hated shots but she was desperate to tamp down the awkwardness starting to consume her. She coughed harshly, sputtering out a breathy “Fuck! That's whiskey!”  Niall just laughed and urged her to chase the shot with her pint.

“S’alright puppy, three or four more and you won't be able to taste it!”  Niall's words slurred together slightly and Poppy eyed him.

“How many have you had, Horan?”

A languid smile spread across his face and he leaned, bumping the brim of his tweed cap against her forehead. “You're pretty.”

Poppy snorted and tugged he lapel of his ridiculous green jacket. “Thought so. Looks like I've got some catching up to do.”

The drinks kept flowing, with round after round pushed towards Poppy.  Niall’s friends were loud, brash, and quite the handful.  But the laughs came easily and Poppy ate up their wicked sense of humor.  Niall stayed close by, his hand brushing across Poppy’s waist every time she leaned into him.  Her brain felt fuzzy around the edges, happily muddled from the alcohol coursing through her veins.  One of the bartenders flew by where they were camped out along the dark, worn wood of the bar and slung a few baskets of warm, soft breadsticks.  The boys descended on them instantly, barely stopping to breathe as they clamored over each other.  Poppy couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous they all looked - resembling a pack of hungry dogs rather than young men in their twenties.  Niall popped up out of the feeding frenzy, his mouth filled with warm dough and turned to find Poppy.  His eyes locked with hers and he thrust a breadstick towards her with a triumphant flourish.  Poppy giggled and grabbed the breadstick pulling Niall along with it until he stumbled forward, nearly knocking into her.  

“Thanks.”

Niall grinned and slung his arm around her shoulders.  “Welcome.  Got to get in quick with this lot, otherwise you’re liable to go hungry.”  

“Wow, my hero.”  Poppy smirked at him and started munching on her breadstick.  Niall watched her the entire time with a dopey grin on his face.  When she swallowed the last bite shook the crumbs off her fingers she finally looked back up at him and asked, “Why’re you staring at me weirdo?”  Niall chuckled and shrugged at her, his eyes never leaving hers.  

“Cause you’re cute when you eat.  Did you know you chew an equal amount of times on each side of your mouth?”  

Poppy shot him a scowl, which only flamed his gentle teasing.  “No, I didn’t know that.  And it’s weird that you do.”

Niall’s cheeks tinged pink and he stepped forward to tug at Poppy’s shirt.  When she was pressed against the cheap green fabric of his suit he tipped his head down towards her face.  Poppy saw the tip of his tongue flick across his bottom lip just as his nose nudged into hers softly.  Her eyes fluttered shut and she felt the soft press of his lips against her own.  For a moment she could only hear her own heart pounding in her ears, could only feel the scratchy polyester blend of the suit lapel clutched in her fingers.  Just as the warmth of his tongue swept across the seam of her lips, the spell was broken by raucous shouting and catcalling from Niall’s friends.  Poppy could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.  Niall pulled her closer, tucking his face into the crook of her neck.  His shoulders jostled softly with his own laughter and Poppy could feel the giggles start to bubble from her own throat.

The hoots and hollers continued until Niall shuffled them both back into the fray of his friends.  Poppy had always been uncomfortable with PDA and had consciously shied away from letting guys touch her or kiss her in public.  Something about being with Niall tempered those feelings and she was almost positive it wasn’t the amount of alcohol in her system.  When they were together she felt lighter - happier.  The sun seemed to shine a little brighter, the sky seemed a little bit bluer.  When Poppy had tried to explain to Sabrina how she felt around him, Sabrina had nodded in complete understanding.  “So basically, he’s watered your crops, paid your bills, and given you life?”  Poppy had stared at her friend and shook her head.  

“I don’t even know what the fuck that means, Sabrina.”

“It means he makes you happy, dummy.”

Poppy had snorted and rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop the genuine smile that spread across her face.  Happy.  Niall made her happy.

“Oi! Earth to Poppy! Ya want another round or no?”

Poppy snapped her head to the side, startled out of her own head by the booming voice next to her ear.  She peered into the grinning face of Deo, Niall’s raucous cousin.  Smiling politely, she nodded, but put her hand out as he started to order for her.  “Wait, something lighter than Guinness this time please.”  Deo stared at her in horror, and slowly turned around so his back was facing her.  

“Niall!  Get over here!  Your girlfriend doesn’t want to drink Guinness on the holiest day of the fuckin’ year!”

Poppy’s palms went clammy and she tugged frantically on Deo’s jacket.  “No, no, I’m not - we’re not...”  She felt an uncomfortable twist in her belly as she watched Niall cover the short distance back to her.  She knew he had heard Deo refer to her as Niall’s girlfriend, and she couldn’t decide what was more terrifying - Niall confirming it, or denying it.  Niall stepped up to Deo and swiftly smacked him upside the head.  

“Deo, if your ma heard you refer to St. Paddy’s as the ‘holiest day of the fuckin’ year’ she’d have your arse in a sling.  ‘Sides, nobody can actually drink that much Guinness - remember when you got pissed at Derek’s wedding after three pints?”  Deo’s face fell into a deep pout and he crossed his arms petulantly. Niall let out a bellow of a laugh and slapped Deo so hard on the shoulder, he nearly sprawled across the bar.  “Now, be a gentleman and ask the lady what she wants to drink.  Or, better yet, get yer own girlfriend and leave mine alone.”  Niall winked at Poppy, the bright grin on his face never faltering.  Poppy’s mouth went dry but her heart felt like it was about to explode out of her chest.  How could he possibly seem so at ease with a statement like that?   

Deo mumbled under his breath and waved down the bartender.  Niall reached his hand out and gently rubbed his thumb across Poppy’s fingers that were clenched in a tight fist.  “S’that ok?”  His voice was tentative, his eyes cast down at her fingers that were slowly loosening up at his touch.  

“Is what ok?”

“That I called you my girlfriend.”

“Is that what you want to call me?”

Poppy watched his hand mold around her own, completely enveloping it into his grip.  “Yeah, um, I’ve kinda already been doing it.  Thought maybe I should ask before you hear it from someone else.”

Poppy pressed her lips into a line and thumbed jerkily over at Deo.  “Well ya screwed the pooch on that one, Horan.  Your idiot cousin just spilled the beans.” Niall sputtered out a laugh as Deo turned, pint in hand, and glowered at the pair.   

“If you two are quite finished, I’m getting the fuck outta here.  I didn’t fly halfway across the planet to get ridiculed.”  He slid Poppy her drink, and stalked off towards a group of sorority sisters wearing tank tops emblazoned with glittery shamrocks over their nipples.  

Niall shook his head and smiled down at Poppy, sipping her drink.  “Hey girlfriend, you wanna get outta here?”  Niall was wiggling his eyebrows with his bottom lip tucked under his teeth.  Poppy choked a little on the mouthful of beer she had and raised her eyebrow at him.

“That might be the worst line you’ve ever used on me.”

“Nah, I’m sure there’s been worse.  What do ya say?  Gonna come home with me?

Poppy felt a warm tingling start to spread all the way down into her toes.  He was staring at her with such intensity, the clear blue of his eyes starting to darken under the dim lighting of the pub.

“Yeah, I wanna go home with you.”  Poppy leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips, both of them unable to contain their grins.

By the time they made it back to Niall’s apartment they were both clutching on to each other for warmth.  Niall had refused to wear a coat, claiming it would “wreck his shamrock aesthetic.”  Poppy, for her part, was only wearing thin leggings and the unexpected snow had soaked through her tennis shoes completely numbing her feet.  Niall kicked the door shut behind them as they stumbled into his small living room, grabbing Poppy and rubbing her arms to try and get them warm.  The entire room was covered in discarded clothes, and open suitcases from where his friends had abandoned their belongings.  

“This place is a disaster.”

“Yeah, they’re right slobs.  Won’t be back for a few hours, they can take care of it tomorrow.”

Poppy leaned further into Niall, trying to soak up some of the heat radiating from beneath his suit coat.  He kissed the top of her head and rubbed his wide palms up and down her back.  “You still cold?”  His voice was muffled by Poppy’s ever-present sloppy bun.

“Yeah, I shoulda worn underwear under these stupid leggings.  My ass is frozen.”

Niall’s hands froze in place on her lower back and she could feel his chest hitch with the deep breath he was holding.  Poppy leaned back, and found his eyes wide as saucers.  “What’s wrong?”

He swallowed slowly and started moving his hands lower on her back.  “Are ya really not wearing any underwear?”

Poppy’s thighs pressed together at the deep rasp of his voice.  She could see a faint blush starting to peek out over the neck of his white t-shirt and feel his bulge starting to grow against her hip.  Emboldened by his reaction, she mustered up her courage and nipped at the stubble on his chin.  “How about you find out for yourself?”

Niall rolled his head to the side and pulled her into his arms as tightly as he could.  With a low grunt he gripped her legs and lifted her clear off the floor.  Poppy yelped in surprise and wrapped her legs around his waist.  Stumbling down the short hallway, Niall was desperately trying to avoid the piles of towels and socks strewn across the floor.  Tipping their bodies into the wall to steady them he cursed his slovenly guests.  “Gonna break my fuckin’ neck before I can even taste ya.  Bastards.”   A rush of arousal swept through Poppy’s core and she clawed at his shoulders trying to get her mouth on any exposed skin she could find.

“Holy shit, please don’t hurt yourself.  I want you so badly, even in this stupid suit.”

Niall let out a strangled laugh as he finally reached his bedroom.  Luckily he had managed to keep the destruction out of his room and made it swiftly over to his bed.  Poppy bounced onto the mattress in a heap and quickly pulled off her sweatshirt and top.  Niall tossed his hat and jacket into a pile on the floor and climbed over her.  “You look beautiful, puppy.”

Poppy smirked and reached for the button on his pants.  “First of all I’m wearing a ratty sports bra and leggings, Niall.  That should not turn you on.  Second, I’m your girlfriend so you have to say things like that.”

Niall cut her off quickly, dipping his mouth to the exposed skin of her neck and kissing down across her shoulders.  “Could be wearin’ a paper bag and you’d turn me on.”  He trailed his thumbs across the front of her black sports bra making her nipples harden instantly.  “Say it again for me?”  Poppy was confused for a moment until she saw the tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.  She ran her nails lightly up his arms making goosebumps spread across his skin.  

“Girlfriend.  I’m your girlfriend.  You’re my boyfriend, Niall.”

The smile that had been pulling at his lips broke wide across his face.  The excitement and affection that was written across his face was contagious and Poppy felt her own grin erupt.  Reaching up to the thin cotton of his shirt she yanked him down and pushed her lips to his in a desperate kiss.  She pulled at the hem of his shirt and hooked her legs around him trying desperately to feel as much of his body as possible all at once.  He finally broke from her grasp and sat back to pull his shirt off from behind his shoulders.  Reaching up through the smattering of dark hair on his chest, Poppy pinched playfully at one of his small nipples.  He let out a small hiss and jerked out of her reach.  “Hey, don’t damage the goods!”

Poppy laughed and stretched her arms above her head.  Niall’s eyes followed the arch of her ribcage as her chest was pushed up, straining against the stretchy material of her bra.  

“Well excuse me, I was under the impression you were going to find out if I was wearing panties or not.”

Niall raised his eyebrows and scooted back on the bed.  Hooking his long fingers into the waistband of her leggings he slowly pulled them down her legs.  The air in his bedroom felt cool against the heated skin of her hips.  “Fuuuuuuck.”  Niall let out a low breath at the sight of Poppy sprawled out underneath him, soft and pliant.  He pushed the bright green slacks off his hips, taking his matching Irish flag boxers with them.  Poppy giggled and put her hands over her eyes.

“Those are the most ridiculous boxers I’ve ever seen Niall.  Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re wearing them!”

“Well, technically I’m not wearing them anymore puppy.  Besides, they’re patriotic.”

“Get over here you dork.”

“Sorry puppy, little busy down here.”

With a devilish smirk Niall wrapped his arms underneath Poppy’s thighs and dipped his tongue gently into her mound.  Poppy’s thighs tensed under Niall’s fingertips and a low moan escaped from her lips.  Spurred on by her reaction, Niall felt a surge of confidence strumming through his entire body.  He kissed, licked, and worshipped Poppy’s body trying desperately to convey his overwhelming desire and affection through each sweep of his greedy tongue.

Poppy scraped her short nails through the mess of bleached tips on his head, holding him in place.  This wasn’t the first time she and Niall had been in this position before, but the weight of their newfound commitment to each other had charged the room’s atmosphere.  Poppy felt Niall’s hand slip from her thigh and trail to her center.  He pushed his fingers into her drenched core, moaning into her swollen clit at the feeling of her slick walls squeezing his digits.  Niall’s hips were rutting into his duvet trying to ease the overwhelming pressure in his length.  He could sense that Poppy was getting closer to her release, and as desperately as he wanted to feel it and taste it around his lips and fingers, he wanted to see her face when she tipped over the edge even more.  He pulled his fingers from her and dragged his wet lips down the sticky skin of her thigh.  Poppy growled in frustration and dragged her shoulders off the mattress to stare down at Niall.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“I wanna make love to ya.”

“Ok, why are you asking me? Normally you just kinda, like, stick it in.”

“Jesus Christ Poppy - you make me sound like a fuckin’ caveman.”

Poppy scrunched her nose and started giggling at their predicament.  Poor Niall was practically crawling out of skin with want for her, his cock throbbing and leaking against her leg.  They were both panting shallow breaths and she could see a light sheen of her own arousal on his chin.  

“Why are we the worst, Ni?”

Niall hung his head and chuckled.  He tugged at Poppy’s bra.  She pulled the spandex over her head and tossed it to the floor.  He settled himself between her legs and savored the feeling of her hardened nipples pressing into his chest with each swell of her chest.  

“We’re not the worst puppy.  We’re just us.”

Poppy smiled and pulled his face down to her own.  Their tongues met in soft sweeps against each other.  Poppy tipped her hips up and wrapped her leg around the swell of Niall’s bum, pulling him into her center.  They both sighed at the feeling, Poppy felt a delicious stretch and fullness as he pressed into her.  Niall’s toes curled at the feeling of her warmth enveloping every inch of his length and nearly burst when he realized how wet he’d made her.  They moved unhurriedly and enjoyed the feeling of being so connected.  Poppy dragged her nails down the broad expanse of Niall’s back and arched her back.  

“I’m getting really close Ni”

“Me too, me too….not yet though, hold on to it.”

Poppy clenched down and tried desperately to stave off the rapidly approaching release uncoiling in her abdomen.  Niall slipped his huge hand behind her head, cradling her softly and ran the pad of his thumb across her cheek.  He pressed his forehead down to hers and she matched his grip, gripping onto his damp neck with her small hand and holding him in place as they breathed each other in.  

“Fuck, Poppy.  Please, I’m gonna come love, ok?”

“Niall - it feels so good, make me come.”

He dropped a wet kiss to her lips and dragged his teeth across her bottom lip.  With another deep thrust they both released with throaty cries that faded into the thick air in his small room.  

As they came down Poppy could only hear their labored breaths and the dull echo of party goers on the streets outside.  Niall rolled off Poppy and pulled her into his arms.  He pushed the hair back off her forehead and kissed her softly.

“Gonna stay here with me tonight, yeah?”

“Only if you promise to make me breakfast in the morning.”

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t make ya breakfast?”

“A shitty one.”

Niall huffed out a laugh and pressed another kiss to her lips.  “Well we can’t have that now can we?”

Poppy hummed and burrowed her nose into his neck and inhaled his worn scent deeply.  “Nope.  Definitely can’t have that.”

#Mtg #making the grade #my writing #niall fluff #niall smut #niall fic

[nialledfromfics]

– fifteen -

“I’ll let you drag me to hell if it means you’ll hold my hand.”

There’s this field behind my house, looks like it goes on for miles and miles. Covered in lush green that reaches to my scuffed up kneecaps and filled entirely with daisies. It is my most favorite place in the world. Mama yells at me for getting all dirty, Daddy yells at me for wasting the day away, but I don’t care. It is my most favorite place to be. I lay down in that field, watching the butterflies dance above me, the heat of the summer sun beating down over my skin. It’s so warm and quiet. So peaceful.

It is my special place. The place that I go to be me. Where my thoughts are my own, my dreams are real and my hopes seem true. The birds singing their pretty songs as they soar over me, my laughter ringing out from the tickles of the long grass as it blows against my skin in the light summer breeze. It’s where I lived to be, where I truly felt a sense of calmness. Where no matter what someone was forcing me to do, here, I was my own person. I mattered.

I can feel the warmth radiating through my skin, breathing in the clean fragrant air and letting it gently fill my lungs. I can hear the bees buzzing around me as they stop to visit the flowers that surround my sprawled out body. I can see the billowy white clouds forming familiar shapes as they float seamlessly through the bright blue Alabama sky.

I can feel it. I can really feel it. I am here.

There’s this field behind my house. It was my most favorite place in the world. It was where I felt free. Alive. Safe.

previous chapters

The bright sky turned a gruesome black, heavy with smog. The green grass surrounding me shriveling up quick as it dissipated into cold grey cement. The vast clear open space around me sliding in and shifting into thick brick walls. His voice stuttered in and out of my ears. My name. I could hear my name in that distinct deep rasp. “Jules...Jules!”

I couldn’t move. My battered body too weak with sharp jagged pains shooting through me with every slight breath. But I could hear him and I could feel his gentle touch on my skin. I could feel his strong arms wrap around my body, I could feel his hands holding me against him. The warmth, his warmth, I could feel it penetrate my shivering body. ‘Niall!’ I called out, screaming it loud in my head, ‘Niall! Niall!’.

He couldn’t hear me. But I could hear him, garbled and like he was a thousand miles away, but I could hear him. My lungs struggled to pull in a breath, the pain ripping through my chest like I had choked down millions of tiny shards of glass. My cracked and bloody lips peeled apart and I strained to open my swollen bruised eyes. I needed to see him. I needed to see his face.

“Niall…” I choked out, all the strength in my body pushing the broken word off my tongue. His grip on me tightened and I could feel the heat of his breath as he leaned his face down to mine.

“Jules,” he repeated again, “Jules, can ya hear me? It’s gonna be okay...it’s gonna be okay...”

The words were muffled in my ears as I began to drift out of consciousness again. My head lagged back on my shoulders, his big hand trembling as it cradled my cheek and I heard my name being yelled out, the sound of his voice slipping further and further away.

“Niall…”

My head rolled listlessly to the side, my cheek coming to rest on the hunch of my shoulder as droplets of tepid water beaded down the sides of my face. It was easier to breathe, my chest still with sharp pains but that didn’t matter, I could breathe. It was warm, the air around me humid and sticky but soft and comforting against my skin. It was dead silent except for the light splash of water as it got gently dribbled over my naked body. Over my chest and across the side of my face, the hot water caused a sting in my open wounds. I let out a tiny whimper, the water stilling as I rolled my head back up just a bit, the back of it resting on the cold tiled wall behind me. I swallowed hard, my throat burning fiercely and I let my eyes slowly peel open, my hazy and slightly delirious stare met with a soft glow of the bathroom light.

“Niall?” I whined out in a broken frail voice.

“I’m here.”

I shot my eyes to the side towards the sound, my head turning just slightly as I finally caught a glimpse of him. Kneeling beside the tub with his forearms resting against the ledge, his dirty blond hair was an unruly mess, sweaty and matted down in the front. His face was splotched red, beat up and cut open all over with a dark blackish bruise already forming over his eye. I gasped faintly under my breath as I slowly locked my cloudy eyes with his, bloodshot and a sullen grey-blue. Holding a breath in my tender lungs, I breathed out his name as my arms flew out from the bathwater, reaching out to him and wrapping solid around his neck as I pulled him into a tight hug.

I was in immense pain but I didn’t care. The heavy cries poured out of me, my beaten body heaving as I sobbed and tucked my face down against the warm confines of his neck. His big hands cradled around my head, his fingers tangling in my wet hair as he held onto me. “It’s okay, baby,” he muttered shakily, “you’re okay.”

I struggled to gulp in breaths through my cries, my arms squeezing tighter around him as I thanked God in my head over and over that I was finally safe, finally with him. That I was alive. “I...I never...thought I’d see...you again…” I muttered out between sobs, my voice muffled as I sucked in quick breaths. His face pressed down against the side of mine, his nose nuzzling into the curve of my shoulder. I could feel his rough fingers combing through my hair, twisting in tight to keep my head nestled against him. My fingernails dug into the nape of his neck, the tears streaming down over my busted up face.

“I’m...I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby,” he finally whispered, his voice barely choking out, “So fuckin’ sorry. I shoulda been there–”

“It’s not your fault,” I mumbled softly, sniffing loudly against the side of his throat, “It’s not your fault–”

I felt his head shake against me, his mouth resting against the wet skin of my shoulder. “I shoulda been there….”

Slowly lifting my face from his neck, I tipped my head back to look at him, his body pulling away and resting back on his knees on the floor next to the tub. His hand caressed down the side of my face, our eyes darting as he paused his knuckles against my collarbone. “You didn’t know, Niall,” I said to him, my voice shaky and rough from my throat, “you couldn't have known that he was going to be there.”

Pressing my eyes closed as I felt the tears start to well up again, I raised my wet hands to my face, cupping them over my swollen mangled skin. “I’m so stupid,” I whispered to myself, pinching my eyes shut as my chin trembled.

I felt his hand raise back up to my drenched hair, twisting back into the side of it. “What?” he said softly. “Baby, you’re not stupid.”

“I should’ve known!” I cried out to him, shaking my head against my palms and wincing as my torn up skin rubbed across. “I should’ve known he’d come after me.”

His grip on my hair pulled slightly as he cupped his big hand around the back of my head. “This is not your fault, Jules,” he insisted, leaning closer to me as I dropped my hands back into the water. “Look at me.” Choking in a breath, I slowly opened my eyes and looked over at him, his stare glassy and his brow furrowed as he focused on me. “He won’t ever hurt you again, you hear me? I took care of it, okay, Niall took care of it. He won’t ever hurt you again, I promise you.”

I darted eyes with him, letting my tongue dip out to lightly lick across my dry bloody lips. “I’ll protect ya, Jules, I will. I take care of me own. I promise, I’ll protect you, always.”

I swallowed hard at his words, the words that I begged to hear. The words that no matter what, I knew he would keep. Shakily nodding my head, I rolled my lips in my mouth and pulled my hands out of the warm water to reach out for him again, hastily pulling him into another hug. I pushed my face down into the nook of his thick neck and broad shoulder, so warm and peaceful. So right. I never wanted to be any place else. Being in his arms, feeling him against me, feeling his warmth, it was my most favorite place in the world. I felt free. Alive. Safe.

With him, I was right where I had always needed to be.

Niall was my Alabama field.

Gulping down my tears, I shifted my face slightly, letting my nose nudge up under his jaw. “Just-...please...can you just hold me, Niall,” I squeaked out to him, my grip on him never faltering, even with my extremely aching body.

I felt his head briefly nod against the side of my face, his hands cupping around the sides of my head as he turned his mouth and placed a tender kiss to my temple. “Let’s get ya out of the tub.”

He had to carry me out of the tub, my body too weak to stand on my own. I sat slumped over on the edge of the bed, quiet with my lagging eyes watching him as he gently dried me off and carefully pulled one of his clean t-shirts over my head. He crouched down in front of me, between my slightly spread knees as he dressed me and I let my stare gently file down over his face. I had no idea what had happened while I was unconscious, I didn’t even know when he had found me, but from the look of him, there was definitely some kind of struggle. There was definitely a fight. Over me. His eyes were fixated at his task of pushing my arms through the sleeves and tugging down the shirt, when I randomly reached out to slip my shaky fingers down over his cheek. His hands paused at my hips as they remained curled into the material of the shirt and he shot his blue eyes up to mine.

My cracked lips parted and I tipped my head to the side as I let the tip of my finger drag over the small red cuts that stood out against his pale skin. My chin began to tremble, the thoughts of him getting hurt over me just too much for me to take. He let out a soft sigh and brought one of his hands up to mine, gently grasping it in his own and bringing it to his lips. “It’s okay. I’m fine,” he whispered to me, delicately kissing the tips of my fingers before setting my hand down on my leg and standing up.

He helped me into the bed and under the covers, and I watched him as he got undressed and climbed in next to me. My worn beaten body instinctively curled up into him as my legs intertwined with his, my face resting against the side of his chest. Tucking my hands into the warmth that settled between our bodies, I let my eyes fall closed as he wrapped his arm around me and turned himself slightly on his side to face me. I nuzzled my face into the patch of hair on his chest as he hooked both his arms over my small weakened frame. I pressed my nose into his skin, pulling in a deep jumbled breath before the uncontrollable tears began to fall from my eyes once again. My fingers clawed gently at the skin of his upper stomach as I sobbed against his chest, his strong arms tightening around me, holding me and just letting me cry.

“I was...I was..s-so scared, Niall,” I stammered, his one hand dragging up my back to let his fingers card through my damp hair and the other cupping around the side of my neck, “So fucking scared. I thought...I thought I was g-gonna die.”

“Shhh, don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice rumbling deep from his chest. “I’d never let that happen, you hear me? Nothin’ is ever gonna happen to ya.”

“He was...he was hurting me and I...all I could think of was you and...Cash and that I’d never see you again and ...I was so scared, Niall… so scared-...” I choked out between heavy sobs.

His fingers gripped a bit tighter in my hair. “Shhh, baby, please.” I felt his head lift off the pillow slightly to press a kiss to the top of my head, resting his mouth on my scalp. “Don’t cry. Please.” I heard a slight crack in his voice and knowing that he was on the verge of tearing up made me squeeze my eyes closed even tighter, more tears falling from them as I buried my face against him. “Everythin’s okay now. You’re safe. I’m with you. You’re safe.”

Drawing in a jumbled breath, I eased my cries and the room fell quiet as I let the steady beat of his heart gently calm me down. “I love you, Niall,” I finally spoke up, my voice soft against his heated skin. “I love you so much it hurts sometimes.”

“I love you too, Jules,” he replied, his fingers petting down the back of my head and across the skin of my jaw as his gruff voice played quiet in my ear. “More than…more than ya probably even know.”

Swallowing hard, I lifted my face from the curve of his chest and tipped my head back just a bit to try and focus on him in the dark room. Flitting my eyes, still battered and puffy, across his face, I raised my chin to press a soft kiss to his lips. He smiled slightly against my mouth, his fingers brushing some damp hair off the side of my face as I pulled away. “Thank you,” I breathed out to him, pushing my face back down into the warmth of his chest.

“Always,” he whispered back to me, shifting his lean body to curl more protectively around mine. “Now get some rest, love. You’ve had a long night.”

My swollen eyes didn’t want to open, pinching shut at the bright bursts of the early morning light that was creeping in through the blinds. Rolling my body over to my side in a groaning huff, I tried to pull the covers up over my face but was met with the weight of something restricting me. Yanking harder, I finally pried my eyes open only to see Niall sitting on the edge of my side of the bed, his bum right next to my bent knees. Swallowing hard, my throat was wicked sore and dry from the night air and I knitted my brows slightly as I traced my stare down his frame. Hunched over, his elbows were resting on his spread knees and he was fully dressed but his fading bleached hair was a mess. His scraped up hands that he was running nervously through was definitely not helping. He had his head tipped down to the floor, his eyes pressed closed from what I could see and all I could hear was a deep inhale from him every so often, his ribcage expanding and straining against the taut material of his thin white t-shirt as he did so.

He didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. Just kept his head down, his hands carding up through his hair and down over the front of his face. I bit at my lip as I peered at him, my face wincing up in pain as I scraped my teeth over the large gash at the bottom corner of my mouth.

“Niall?” I finally muttered out to him, my low voice rough and garbled. Hesitantly, I sat myself up as my hazy eyes struggled to stay on him. Pulling my face in at the pain, I pushed a hand to my tummy, nausea hitting me hard as every muscle in my body ached with every tiny movement. I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment as I blew out a breath past my rounded lips and I could feel the pounding in my head spread as I lifted myself all the way up and shifted my legs under the blanket before opening my eyes to look at him. “What are you doing?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he grumbled out, his face buried in the palms of his hands.

I tipped my head slightly to my shoulder as I tried to get a better look at him. “Are you okay?” I asked gently.

“No, I’m not fuck-” he retorted, cutting himself off with a huff. Dropping his hands from his face, I watched as his tongue dipped out to lick across his dry quivering lips. “I almost fuckin’ lost ya yesterday,” he whispered, slowly turning his face to look at me. I caught his bloodshot stare, my brow softening and my lips parting as he darted eyes with me past the rounded hunch of his shoulder. “I almost fuckin’ lost ya, Jules.”

My fingers gripped tight into the t-shirt I was wearing and I placed a hand behind me to scoot myself just a bit closer to him, listening intently as he drew in a breath and continued. “When I...when I got there last night, at the corner to pick ya up....ya weren’t there. You weren’t there where ya were supposed to be and...shit, I knew somethin’ was wrong.” He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he paused and his hands fanned out as they hung over his knees. “Me mates...they had just come runnin’ out the pub...and I got out me car and saw your phone just lyin’ on the ground…”

His eyes flicked down to the floor, his finger pointing towards the ground as he shook his head. “I about lost me fuckin’ mind, Jules.” He glanced back over to me, his mouth pinching up in the corner. “They said they thought they’d heard someone screamin’ from inside-...” He cut himself off, his head once again dropping to the full of his hands. I gulped in a breath, my eyes becoming watery as I watched his shoulders begin to tremble as he choked back his muffled cries. “I didn’t know where ya were!” he spoke up, lifting his face and peering back over at me, the brim of his bloodshot eyes swollen and filled with tears. “I started yellin’, but...they didn’t know nothin’ either…”

“And then I heard ya.”

My heart stopped cold in my chest, my grip on the front of my t-shirt tightening as I watched his eyes squeeze shut, a couple tears sliding down over his freckled cheek. Reaching out, I ran my hand down his shoulder to the side of his back, my fingers lingering at his side.

“Loudest fuckin’ scream I’ve ever heard in me life and I swear to God, I knew it was you. I knew in me fuckin’ gut it was you. I knew someone was tryin’ to hurt ya.” He paused again, shaking his head lightly as he raised an arm and threw his hand forward as he looked ahead of him. “And we just all took off runnin’...just listenin’ for the sound of ya again.”

Pulling my hand back, I cupped it over my mouth, my chin trembling as I listened to him and slowly began to remember bits and pieces of what had happened the night before. The tears began to well up hot in my eyes, and I didn’t even fight them as they started to slip down my cheeks. “We came round the corner…and Jesus Christ, Jules....”

His eyes pressed closed as his voice broke, his head dropping in a shake before he ran his hand over his face to wipe his tears away and looked back over at me, locking his watery eyes on mine. “Saw ya on the ground, not movin’, completely...completely defenceless. That fuckin’....that fuckin’ prick was just hovered above ya, just wailin’ on ya….like it was nothin’!” His brows furrowed as he held out his hands, his bottom lips tucking in between his teeth as he darted his eyes with mine. “Like it was nothin’. I’ve never been so scared for someone in me life, Jules. To see him doin’ that to ya…” His voice stuttered off as he broke down into another solid cry, hanging his head down, his chin to his chest.

Pushing up to my knees, I gulped in a breath and leaned myself over, wrapping my arms around his heaving hunched up body. The side of my face rested at the round of his shoulder blades. “Niall…” I squeaked out softly, pinching my eyes shut as his body rumbled out soft cries under me. “Niall...I’m o-okay.”

“You’re not okay, Jules!” he roared out, the loudness of his voice unintentional as he sucked in a breath and tried to settle himself. “It’s not okay. I shoulda been there. This wouldn’t’ve happened if I was just fuckin’ there!”

“Niall,” I said a bit louder, my hands curving around to his chest, rubbing across him gently. “Please….this isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you.”

“I blame me.”

Lifting his head up, I slowly pulled my weakened body off of him, wincing a bit as I leaned back to sit my bum on my heels. “I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to be there, to take care of ya, to fuckin’ protect ya, and I wasn’t there to do that!” He shot his eyes over to mine. “I had to tear his fuckin’ arse off ya!” he continued, moving his arm to grip his big hand around my waist, “Jesus, you shoulda seen yourself...” his deep voice broke and I let my glassy stare drift down his face, watching as he swallowed back his tears. He tugged at my shirt, bringing his other hand up to wipe at the front of his nose with the back of his knuckles as he turned his face away from mine.

“Niall, listen to me, if you hadn’t shown up when you did…” my voice trailed off slightly as I dropped my stare to my lap, the mere thought of him not having found me, making the sick swirl heavy in my stomach. I choked in a breath as I force myself to continue, peering back over at him. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I might not be sitting here right now, okay? You came for me and you found me, and you saved me.” I softened my voice, shaky in my throat as I reached out and caressed the back of my fingers down his cheek before slipping them around the clammy skin of his neck.

“You saved my life, Niall,” I told him, my words gentle as they floated off my tongue. “He was gonna kill me and you saved my life.”

Moving his hand from my waist, he rubbed across his eyes and dropped his face down to the floor again. Slipping my hand from the curve of his neck, I sat back some, my eyes flicking down to my hands that were curled in my lap. He stayed quiet, the low hum of the heater as it flicked on the only thing I could hear. I reached up in slight pain as I gently patted the pads of my fingers across the tender broken skin near my temple, hissing under my breath.

Glancing down at my fingertips as I pulled them away, I heard Niall suck in a deep shaky breath and shot my eyes back over to him. “Jules, I’m gonna ask ya this again, and I swear to God, ya better tell me the truth,” he spit out, his voice a bit rough in his throat. He shifted his eyes to mine, his darkened stare just barely peering at me through the corners.

Knitting my brows in question, I slumped over as I dropped my hand to my lap. “Okay?”

Pressing his lips in a line, he flicked his eyes over my head, swallowing hard before locking them back on me. “Is this what ya want? What ya really want? To be with me? Me and...and Cash?”

My heart broke at his words, not just what he was asking but how he was asking. Like it was almost out of desperation, almost as if after what happened last night, that to him, that wasn’t enough for me to know how I felt or how he felt about me. As if I would ever question that. As if I would ever question how I felt about him or Cash. Nothing would ever change that. “Yes,” I said, without hesitation. “Yes, you‘re...all that I want, Niall. I love you and I love Cash. If I didn’t have you–”

“Then I need ya here.” He cut me off, voice sharp.

I shook my head lightly. “I am here.”

He rolled his eyes in frustration, his finger pointing down at the floor as he spoke. “No...no, I need ya here with me. All the time.”  

Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head again. “I...I don’t understand.”

“I want ya to move in with me,” he spit out, twisting his upper body to face me and placing his palm down on the bed by my knees. His stubbled chin tipped down as he raised his brows. “Live here, with me and Cash. I need ya here. I need to keep ya safe.”

I darted eyes with him, my brows pulling in even more as my still fuzzy mind tried to process what he was saying. “Do you understand now?” he asked, his other hand coming over to rub gently at the skin of my slightly exposed upper thigh.

Tilting my head to the side, I licked at my lips and gave him a tiny smile. “I kinda already thought I did live here,” I said to him, my voice quiet.

Rolling his eyes closed in a chuckle, he let his head hang down as he laughed causing a giggle to push out from my sore lungs. “You do,” he spoke up, bringing his stare back to mine, “but I mean really live here. Like go back to your flat and pack up all your things...ya know. Live here.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” he said, his eyes going a bit wide, his brows raising.

I gave him a smile, grabbing at his one hand with both of my own. I let my fingers slide over his red blistered knuckles. “I don’t want to be anywhere else, Niall,” I told him, shrugging up my one shoulder. “You’re my Alabama field.”

Pulling his brows in at my statement, his lips turned down in confusion. “What?”

With my eyes going wide, I silently screamed at myself as I shifted my embarrassed stare away from his. Stupid word vomit! “Nothing,” I said quickly, nervously laughing it off as I shook my head.

Giving me a hearty laugh, he sniffled a bit as he pushed himself up from the bed, my eyes peering up at him as he tugged down at his wrinkled t-shirt and turned to stand in front of me. “Why don’t ya get some more rest, yeah?” he said lowly, leaning over and gripping his hand around the back of my neck. “I’ll take ya by your flat on me way to work in a bit.”

“You have to go to work?” I asked him softly.

He let out a sigh. “I got some...loose ends to tie up, love. It won’t take me long, I promise. And Cash is safe at the sitters.” My eyes fluttered closed as I felt him press his lips to my forehead, my chest expanding as I breathed him in, his mouth lingering at my skin just a bit. “I will always protect you with everythin’ I have, do you hear me?” he breathed out, my heart beating fast as he gently pushed his mouth to my forehead one last time before standing up and walking towards the door.

My eyes flew open, my stare locked on him. “Niall?” I spoke up, licking at my lips.

He stopped as he swung open the bedroom door and turned to look at me over his broad shoulder. “Yeah?”

Biting lightly at my lip, I shot my eyes to the floor at his feet for a moment before dragging them back up his slim body. “What, um...what happened to Jason? And…and those guys?”

He gave me a half smile, running his tongue over his teeth before he spoke. “Don’t worry about that, okay? Just know that they can’t ever hurt anyone else ever again. Especially you.”

Without another word, he turned forward and stepped through the door and closed it quietly behind him. I drew in a deep breath, not quite sure what he meant by that answer but knew by the sound of his voice, that I trusted him.

They would not hurt me again.

Feeling that nauseousness twirling again in my belly, I crinkled my face up at the uncomfortable sensation and curled my body into a ball, slowly slipping under the covers and laying back down on my side.  

Surely some more sleep would do me some good.

Niall dropped me off at my flat around noon, the apartment empty as Tessa and Naomi were most likely at their classes. That was okay with me, it gave me some time to pack up in peace without having to endure fifty thousand questions about what I was doing and what the hell had happened to me. My body was still extremely weak and very tender to the touch, nasty dark purple bruises covering my arms and most of my torso and all across my neck. I knew I looked an absolute wreck, but I had yet to actually see myself. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to.

Stumbling into my room, I pressed my eyes closed as I sucked in a breath and stepped up to my mirror. Slowly bringing my face up, I peeled open my eyes, my mouth dropping and my stomach twisting tight at the sight I was seeing. He was right.

My entire face looked as if I had gotten into a ring with a world champion boxer. Puffy and blotchy red, I had tiny scrapes and large cuts across my cheekbones and a deep bloody gash on the corner of my mouth. Both my eyes were almost swollen shut and bruised, and I had a huge open slash across my one temple. Turning my face slightly, I raised my fingers to the wound, gently tapping across it. This is where Jason had knocked me out with the handle of the gun. I squeezed my eyes shut as I could still hear the crack of the gun against my skull and I dropped my hand to hang by my side as I let out a shallow sigh. That was the last thing I remembered.

Deciding that I should probably start to get things in order and not dwell on what had happened last night, I spent the next two hours folding up all my clothes and sorting through my school things. As I made it over to my short bookshelf, I quickly bent down in front of it, hissing in a breath through clenched teeth as my aching muscles screamed out at me, warning me to take it easy. I began shoving books and trinkets into a cardboard box, just mindlessly tossing stuff in one by one when I froze, my fingers stopping to linger on a small photo album. I had completely forgotten that I had it.

I didn’t know why I had brought it with me to Ireland, the whole thing was filled with memories that I would have rather just left back home. But I think maybe...maybe a part of me knew that one day Ireland would become my new home, maybe a part of me knew that I might need these memories, that at the end of it all, that’s all they would be for me. Memories.

Hunching my shoulders over as I sat on my floor, I carefully brought the album into my lap and ran my finger along the edges of the pages before slowly opening the front cover. I let a half smile drift across my face as I caught glimpse of the very first picture. One of me when I was about 12, standing near the old ice cream shop that was just down the road from my house. Strawberry ice cream cone in my hand and two friends by my side. It was such a simple time.

Flipping through the pages, I was easily brought back to these memories, mostly good and fun, a few of my parents and other family members mixed in with friends. But as I turned towards the end, my heart about jumped out of my chest. I had forgotten about that picture. Me and Jason. Our first dance together. We were both 15.

He was dressed in a pair of pressed grey pants and a white button up shirt, checkered tie that he had borrowed from his dad. I was in a knee length, spaghetti strapped light blue chiffon dress, tiny bow in the back and a heart shaped neckline. We were standing together on my front porch as my mama was busy snapping pictures of us, my face turned and looking up at him. Narrowing my eyes as I peered at the picture, I couldn’t believe how happy I looked on the outside knowing how absolutely broken I was on the inside. Even back then, even with only being with Jason a few months, I knew that he was not good for me. He was not what I wanted and he would never be what I needed.

Letting my eyes fall closed, I snapped the book shut, the light swirl of sick that was building in my tummy making it ache. I didn’t feel good at all. Using all the strength I had left, I climbed my weakened body up onto my bed, a bed that I hadn’t actually slept in in almost two whole months, and totally crashed as soon as my body made contact.

I was just so tired.

Whack. Whack. Whack.

I could feel the heat of him hovering over me, the sound of my bone crushing under the sharp edge of the gun and the blinding force of his muscle as he hit me.

Crack.

Again. Stop, please stop!

Crack.

The warm blood trickled out of my mouth, the side of my face scratching against the cold rough pavement of the ground.

Crack. “Stupid, no good bitch!” His voice growled rough in my ear.

The tiny rocks scraped against my skin, embedding in the open cuts as he pressed his hand down on my throat, pushing my face harder into the ground.

Again.

Crack. “Fucking slut! No one’s gonna want you by the time I’m done with you.”

Again.

He tossed the gun to the side, opting for his fist now. God, p-please, help me. Please. I couldn’t breathe, his knee pressing deep into my chest, his hand wrapped solid around my bared throat and cutting off my air. I couldn't....couldn’t breathe.

Whack.

Please.

Whack.

I can’t–

Whack. “Don’t got your little Irish prick to save you now, do you, stupid bitch?” Whack.

Can’t– 

Pitch black.

Breathe.

I gasped loud, my body shooting up in the bed. Sweat was pouring down my forehead, my eyes going huge as I clutched my hand to my throat. My chest was rising fast, uncontrollable as I struggled to catch my breath, my heart racing unsteadily against my battered ribcage. Slipping my hand up over my chin, I immediately cupped my palm over my mouth as the need to vomit rose quickly from my stomach.

Scrambling as fast as I could off the bed and out of my room, I doubled over in pain from my beat up body as I ran towards the bathroom, making it just in time to throw up in the toilet. Slumping my body down on the floor and resting my face on my arm that laid across the seat, I let out a sigh, grabbing some tissue to wipe at my mouth.

I drew in a breath, my eyes slowly pressing closed as I began to feel the sick once again swirling in my belly.

“Are you okay?” My eyes flew open, peeking out of the corners to see Tessa standing in the bathroom doorway, her head tilted and brows furrowed with concern as she looked down at me. She must’ve heard the commotion of me running down the hall. “Jesus, what happened to your face?”

Sliding the front of my face closer into the folded crook of my elbow, I pinched my eyes shut as I clutched my other hand at my stomach. “Jason,” I mumbled out to her, hearing the old floorboards creak under her feet as she stepped closer.

“Wait...Jason? He’s still here?”

“Apparently.”

Slowly opening my eyes, I barely glanced up at her, watching as she shook her head and brought her hand up to her mouth. “And…he did that to you? Holy shit, Jules, did you...did you call the police or something?”

I gently shook my head at her, tucking my face back down as I felt the need to vomit slowly rising up my throat again. “I-...I didn’t have to,” I stuttered out.

“What?”

“Niall took care of it.”

Quiet for a moment, she moved next to me and rested her hip on the bathroom sink. “Niall–” She was cut off by the sound of me once again throwing up, my eyes watering as I squeezed my hand around my lower stomach, the nauseousness severely overpowering at this point. “Shit, are you sick too?” she spoke up, peering down at me.

Lifting my head to wipe at my mouth with some tissue, I let out a sigh and cradled the side of my head in the palm of my hand as my bent elbow rested at the edge of the toilet seat. “No,” I said, my whiny voice squeaking out unsure. “I don’t know. I just can’t stop throwing up lately. And I just...I’ve got this nagging feeling in my stomach almost every morning. It’s fucking annoying.”

“Seriously?” she quipped, reaching down to place her hand across the skin of my forehead. “You’re not warm.”

I rolled my eyes, swallowing down the taste of sick that lingered in my mouth. “Ugh, I fucking hate this.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, I sucked in a jumbled breath as she narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you tired?”

I turned my face, knitting my brows as I peered up at her. “Huh?”

She rolled her eyes as she dropped her hands in frustration. “Sleepy. Are you sleeping a lot?”

Furrowing my brows, I dropping my stare for a moment as I tried to think back. “I...I don’t know, I guess.”

Glancing back up at her, I watched as she pressed her lips in a line and turned her body as she reached up to open the small cabinet that hung on the wall by the mirror over the sink. Pulling out a thin box, she closed the small door and pushed it towards me. “Here.”

Slowly reaching out to grab it from her, I peered down at the box in my hand, my eyes clouding over as I read across the front of it. Pregnancy test. Shaking my head, I could feel the sick churning in my belly, my heart starting to beat just a little too fast as my mind read the tiny printed letters over and over. Pregnancy test. Pregnancy. Pregnant.

“No...w-hat are you…fucking crazy?” I spit out to her, glancing up to see a smirk on her face.

“Take it,” she demanded, nodding down towards the box.

Knitting my brows, I flicked my eyes back down at the box for a moment before looking back up at her. “Why do you…why do you even have this?” I asked her, generally interested.

She tossed her head back in a laugh, her soft brown hair bouncing off her shoulders as she glanced back at me. “I date guys too, Jules,” she finally said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Well...I used to.”

Breathing out a laugh at her response, I sat up a little more, my stare fixating on the box as my jittery hands gripped it tightly. “Just take it, okay?”

And with that, she walked out and closed the door behind her. Whipping my head over my shoulder to make sure she was gone, I carefully opened the end of the box, my fingers shaking uncontrollably as I gently pulled the test stick out. Holding it up in front of my face, my breaths started to quicken and I struggled to settle my mind on any single thought I could. This can’t be happening. Not to me, not now. No. This cannot happen.

Letting out a jumbled sigh, I let my head fall into the palm of my hand again, my fingers with the test stick gripped between them and dropping to my lap. Squeezing my eyes shut, I muttered out a ‘Jesus Christ’ under my breath before shifting my face over the toilet so I could throw up again.

#niall #niall horan #niall smut #niall au #niall fic #niall fanfic #ain #reposting #chapter 15 #YOU GUYS THIS IS MY FAVE CHAPTER OF AIN #LIKE MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE #idk why hahah but it was my favorite to write #hope you enjoy!