#i think he was more so concerned about whether or not whiskey was cheating on his girlfriend if he had one at all

[bucknastysbabe]

Candy - Talk Talk

Rating: Mature

A/N: Be warned this is my projection of being in active alcoholism. But make it a songfic and interpret past shitty relationships. Shit warps your reality, thoughts, perceptions. Basically a lot of slipping into alcoholism is a slow slide triggered into GO TIME by an emotional/traumatic or even euphoric event so def not fic Bucky’s fault. Very unreliable narrator. Sequel of sorts to Tommy’s Party

Tags: TW ADHERE!! sui ideation, explicit descriptions of withdrawals, alcoholism and alcohol abuse, toxic relationships, depression, delusional thinking, drug abuse, just dreadful really

This sure is some kind of party. It's so useful. Surrounds my life with excuses. For what I choose to lose.

You knew this was stupid. So stupid. Wanda had tried to persuade you to go to another party that didn’t include your roommate cum ex-boyfriend. But nope. You were drunk already and wanted to feel something— whether that be chaos, pain, or the gentle caress of oblivion.

The parties masked the pain of living with the man you still loved. The man who had clearly moved on with new flings every week. You drank and danced to find an excuse to not think think fucking think all the damn time.

You don’t have to wonder what you did wrong with a stomach full of booze and nose full of adderall. Kept you in the moment. Therefore if you went out every night with the ‘wrong crowd’ that was your problem. The rest of day you could spend hungover and sleeping away your amounting problems.

And my name. Doesn't look the same to me.

Your advisor had sent you to a counselor because of your plummeting grades. The lady asked if you were depressed. “No, just tired,” you lied.

“How much do you drink a week?”

Once.

You were fine as long as you had your new lover. Although he was consuming you, transforming you into something better, freer, no cares in the world. The girl you always wanted to be. The one who stared back at you with glazed eyes and reddened cheeks in the mirror was a different person. Thank god.

And inside, don't you know I feel so bad.

Bucky pulled you aside the other day, his stupidly handsome face all wrought with concern. He gripped your shoulder, pretty pink mouth trembling, pissed, “What’s happened to you? You’re throwing your life away.” You shoved him away, hissing, “Since when did you care? You haven’t spoken to me in weeks. Just leave me be I’m fine.”

He trembled in anger, throwing up his hands. Bucky tried to stay level but ended up shouting, “I do care! It’s fucking hell watching you poison yourself and run with those,” he bit his lip and paused, “Those alpha fucks.”

You stared at him blankly. There was a fifth behind your bed. Walking to your room you said over your shoulder, “It’s only okay for you when everything’s perfect.”

You heard something get thrown, vodka dripping down your heaving throat.

Candy, when I tried to turn away. To feel new again.

You shoved Brock off your shaking frame. He was out cold. You needed something. Stop the shakes, sweaty shivers wracking your body. Now. Bucky had some whiskey hidden away in the kitchen. He was out the door when Brock came in, a look of disgust on Buck’s handsome face. Twisting and marring it.

Good.

Less he was around the more you could indulge. Blocking our reality was hard when someone who made you want to do better was confusing. Brock was a dick, he made it easy.

My emotion cost me pain. Did I look the same? When I think about the times that I laughed away the idea you'd cheat me.

There was nothing in your room. Nothing in the apartment. No fix. Your brain was screaming at you, skin crawling uncomfortably. The air was too hot, too cold, you didn’t know. All your money was spent until next week.

“You need help, I can’t take it anymore, I poured it out,” came his shaky voice.

You turned to glare at your former love, eyes manic and red rimmed. Your mouth was so, so dry. Stalking toward Bucky you weakly shoved his broad chest, croaking, “Why the fuck would you do that? The fuck is wrong with you?” Your head erupted into a pang of pain, wincing.

Bucky grabbed your shoulders, shaking, pleading, “C’mon, I have some Powerade, we can watch movies and try to relax like old times.”

You trembled in place with anger and the onset of delirium tremens. Bucky searched your sunken eyes, fear lacing his features. Why couldn’t he just move away and leave you alone. You thought he’d bolt by now. With a ragged sob you replied, “I never thought you’d enjoy seeing me in pain so much.” You crumpled, he held you, repeating he didn’t like to see you in pain.

He sat by your side for a little that night. But the liquor was back in your cup. He told you he was gone if you didn’t stop. The idiot had been gone since he deemed your relationship too ‘isolated’.

Bucky didn’t end up leaving, hovering like a nursemaid. Maybe there was a way.

But look again, what do you say? 'That's my name.’

Bucky stayed around, trying to wean you off. Spring break. What a bust. You couldn’t keep anything down. You stared at the ceiling, wondering if oblivion would be better. He irked you, made hatred boil up, something that was so pure had been blackened. You were too weak to go get your own shit, but he probably took your money too.

Bucky sat next to you on the couch, big hand on your elbow. You spat, “What? Come to wallow in my misery like a pig in shit?” He sighed, gritting his jaw. The brunette asked, “Do you not see a problem here?” You didn’t like the way his heavy brows pinched, made your heart ache.

You turned to face him, face close up, Bucky’s eyes darting to your lips. Breath fanning against his slack jaw you rasped, “The problem is you aren’t seeing me. Never have. Too clingy, too wild, too drunk.” You nipped his lip roughly, growling, “Did’ja only like me when you were fucking me?”

Bucky pulled back, breath hitching. He stood up abruptly, yelling, “What the fuck are you even talking about? I love you!” His blue eyes were watery. He croaked, “I mean who even are you anymore baby?” Your throat tightened. Fuck fuck fuck you needed booze.

AND I HOPE THAT I'VE KEPT YOU AMUSED

TO WIPE THAT SPIT RIGHT OFF MY BOOTS

Lies. Bucky was lying. Your brain whispered darkly, manipulating anything that might’ve been coherent though. He was bootlicking, appealing to that little soft part in your heart. Just enough to keep you on that string for his twisted amusement. You dialed Brock.

“Pick me up, bring a roadie stat.”

And when I'm home and thinking in the dark. I hope that none of this has had to go too far.

When it gets too late. To see me any other way.

He moved out a month later. Finally, your thoughts cheered. But why did it still hurt even when plastered on the ground? Bucky left a scathing note. You cried until your nose bled after. Fucking idiot, that’s your name.

‘Get help because I’m not going to see you lifeless in a coffin. Don’t contact me until you’re sober.’

Maybe you should get sober. But wasn’t this your plan? Run off the ones who really cared? Make Bucky hate you because it was easier than knowing he chose to leave you. Wanda even cut you off, Steve left a flyer for AA on your porch.

You took another swig.

Atleast you had this. The only thing within your grasp.

And it gets so hard to hold on. To everything that I want so bad.

#read the TW #alcoholic projective live and jive #idk what this is #feelings ig #angst angst angst #bucky barnes x reader

[the-dream-team]

hi dylan! i've seen you around a lot but never interacted with your posts before (a tragic error) so i wanted to remedy that by saying that 'July' was very beautiful and utterly perfect!

P.S. I've heard some mumblings about Shirtless James May 👀👀 here is my formal request for you to participate 😂

Oh my gosh, hi! I’ve definitely seen your username around, so it’s lovely to finally say hello :) That’s so sweet, I’m glad you liked July- it was very fun to write! And you know what else was fun to write? This ridiculous one shot for Shirtless JP May, dedicated you, @sunshine-marauders <3

Three Times Lily Evans Did NOT Want to See James Potter Shirtless and One Time She Most Certainly Did

***

“Mr. Potter, please put your trousers back on, my boy!”

“Sir, I would, but there’s just no way of telling if this potion might be poisonous, and I’d rather play it safe.”

Lily’s eyes narrowed as she shrugged off her own robes, now covered head to toe in acidic slime from the Dungbomb that had just exploded in her and Sev’s cauldron. The purple liquid smelled something foul, but there was nothing poisonous about what was once a perfectly brewed Sleeping Draught. James Potter knew that, but he’d stripped down to his pants regardless. 

“Really, Professor Slughorn, I don’t mind,” Potter continued while he sauntered back to his own workstation, bare chest puffed out as though he wasn’t practically nude in the middle of the damn classroom. His display garnered a collection of giggles from around the dungeons and a wolf whistle from Remus. “And who am I to deny my fellow third years of this view?”

Lily scoffed. She couldn’t speak for her classmates, but she knew her own view consisted of scrawny limbs, knobbly knees, and the most insufferable smirk known to wizardkind. And when he turned to her with fingers running through his hair and an infuriatingly pointed look in her direction, Lily balled her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms to keep herself from reaching out to smack that stupid grin and those lopsided glasses clean off his face.

***

“There’d better be a good explanation for this, Potter.”

“It kills me, Evans, because there is an excellent explanation for our current predicament- one that I think you’d find admirable and impressive- but unfortunately we’re sworn to secrecy, so you’ll just have to assign us detentions and continue on with your rounds for the night.”

Lily turned, exasperated, to Remus, whose Prefect’s badge looked awfully heavy on his robes that night. He didn’t meet her eye, instead focusing on his three naked friends standing before them in the middle of the first floor corridor. Well, mostly naked. Each of the fifth year Gryffindor boys held strategically placed Shrivelfig leaves to cover their most intimate areas, but only Peter looked as though that protection was a matter of life or death. Sirius stood as casually as he always did, completely unphased to find himself caught clothesless in the middle of the night, and James somehow looked more confident than usual (if that was even possible) with his chest on full display. He seemed to be strategically flexing every Quidditch-trained muscle as he grinned down at her with that pointed look she’d become far too familiar with. She spent every last drop of concentration keeping her eyes locked on James’ face to avoid any potential… drifting. 

“Did you have any luck?” said Remus after a moment. Lily whipped around in shocked betrayal. He couldn’t possibly approve of this behaviour?

“Not this time,” Sirius responded, “but I got bloody close. Don’t think having clothes makes a difference, but it was worth trying.”

“I’d say we should be on track to making it work before the end of the month,” added James, his crooked grin turning into a proper smile. 

Remus’ eyes sparkled. “Holy shit, that’s brilliant.”

Lily let out a frustrated grunt before turning on her heel to storm away from the disrobed boys and her fellow Prefect, upset that Remus wouldn’t take their duties seriously, but thankful to be out of sight from James’ sharp gaze, finally able to let the blush she’d been desperately fighting back escape across her cheeks.

***

“I’m sorry, Evans, but I don’t make the rules. You’ve got to lose an article of clothing or else you’ll have to forfeit.”

“That’s bollocks, Black, you literally came up with the idea for Strip Exploding Snap this evening.” 

The sixth years were circled up around the Common Room’s fireplace, loose socks and sweaters littering the floor, a half-empty bottle of stolen Firewhisky passing around from hand to hand. If it weren’t for Mary’s ridiculous crush on Sirius, Lily would never have found herself anywhere near this kind of event, but she’d decided to be a good friend, and now she was down to an undershirt and knickers. It was unclear whether her face burned red from the whiskey or the nerves. 

“Look, Evans,” Sirius continued with an air of indifference, “if you’re not going to participate, you can just put your cards back in the pile-”

“I’ll do it for her!” James nearly shouted as he jumped up from his seat, swaying slightly. His eyes as glossy as the crooked glasses falling down his nose. He reached for the collar of his white t-shirt, grabbing hold to pull it over his head, but a competitive rush propelled Lily to her feet. 

“No!” she protested before the shirt could make its way too far up James’ stomach. He froze in place, peering over the fabric at her in confusion. “You can’t just play for me, Potter, that’s not fair. I want to win on my own.”

“Really, Evans, I don’t mind,” laughed James, finally following through to remove the shirt completely. His glasses came off in the process, stuck in the fabric, and Lily nearly choked as her mouth went dry at the full sight of him, broader and fuller than she’d remembered. Had she ever seen him without his glasses before? His face as naked as his torso? She needed another drink. 

“I’m not going to let you cheat,” she said, actually stomping her foot in the process. And to prove the dedication to her claims, she stripped down to her bra and sent James her most determined, pointed stare. His glasses made their way back to his face so fast, he nearly poked his eye out. “Now, put your shirt back on, Potter, or I’ll come over there and do it myself.”

“That’s not the threat you think it is, Evans,” he breathed, nearly choking on his words. 

Lily thought her leaping heart must be horribly visible through her exposed skin.

“Do you both need the rest of us to leave?” chimed in Sirius, throwing Lily from her rapidly spiraling thoughts. 

She immediately sat back down, throwing James his shirt in the process, desperately trying to contain the butterflies threatening to escape through her throat. His shirt never made it back over his head and the rest of the night no longer passed in minutes, but instead in glances stolen from across the room.

***

“Whatever is the problem, Miss Evans, my dear?”

“Sir, I accidentally spilled an entire vial of Mermaid venom all over Potter. It’s burned straight through his robes and I’m worried it might be serious. Do you mind if I leave to take him to Madam Pomfrey’s?”

Professor Slughorn fumbled out a concerned response, granting his blessing, and Lily spared no time grabbing James by the wrist to drag him out of the classroom and through the dungeons. His eyes were wide as he studied the golden liquid eating through the fabric of his sweater. “Is this poisonous?” he asked, fingers fumbling with his deteriorating uniform. 

Lily spun around with emerald fire behind her eyes. “It is,” she responded, stopping him in his tracks as they turned a corner. “So we ought to play it safe and get these off you.”

She watched his eyes flash with sudden realization before she pulled off his sweater and made quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

The knowing grin that broke out across James’ face sent waves of elation through her heart, radiating out to find him again and pull him down to her. Their mouths met with smiling lips and heavy sighs, eager to reconnect after what felt like ages apart, but in reality, couldn’t have been more than an hour. 

“What did I do to deserve this?” James asked through jagged breaths as he grabbed for the door handle to the nearest broom closet, dragging Lily in after him by the waist. 

“You gave me that look,” she said, laughing slightly as she moved her hands up his warm skin to comb through his tousled hair. “That bloody pointed look you get that drives me crazy.” She kissed him and he deepened it before pausing. 

“Wait. You poisoned me because I looked at you?”

“I spilled poison on you because I wanted to get your shirt off.”

He beamed, his smile brightening the dim, crowded cupboard as he brought his hands up to hold her face. “Well, in that case, who am I to deny you this view?”

She scoffed. Then kissed him again.

#shirtless james potter may #i wasn't going to participate to this extent #but you asked so nicely! #<3 #jily fic #jily #james potter #lily evans #one shot #shirtless jp may

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Only Time Makes It Human

Hi, hello I was so excited to write this story you don't understand! I hope you all like it, I'm open to suggestions for part two or even part three hehe, I just like this concept a lot, lol i even made a Spotify playlist to listen to while writing. And I dont do that very often.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Summary: he shouldn't have let Hange drag him to that frat party with Petra as his date, not when she knew you'd be there with someone else.

Tags: college au!, Angst, eventual fluff, slightly nsfw

Warnings: mentions of smoking, cheating, drinking and of you squint hard enough there's some nsfw, literally it's a frat party, you know how college students are

Disclaimer: drink responsibility if you are of drinking age, don't smoke, absolutely don't drive while being drunk, also I don't own the characters, but you already know that.

The deafening sound of pop music abused Levi's ears to the point his head was pulsing. His drink, a ratty cheep lager that was disturbingly common in such parties, stood in a red plastic cup in his hand, not even halfway drank. It was the watery taste he despised; when he wasn't much of an alcohol drinker, he was adamant about bitter tastes in beverages, a preference he hadn't managed to fight in his whole life time.

He shot an ominous glance at Hange and Petra. Stood right in front him, swaying their hips and smiling at each other as they shipped from their makeshift cocktails, they were more than surprised whatever they had dumped on their cups was consumable.

Petra in particular, beamed everytime she looked his way, auburn locks of her grazing the sides of her kind face as she swayed closer to him. The way his eyes never landed on her until it was necessary guilted him more than he wanted to admit. Mainly because Hange had set them up, and also because he shouldn't have been frying his brain with thoughts of someone else when he was with her.

But sometimes he couldn't help himself.

In an attempt to shut his brain down from making generously misery thoughts, he locked his hand around Petra's waist, sipping ever so slightly off his beer in the meantime. He didn't miss the way she lowered her head to smile, the sheer maroon tint on her cheeks. She fidgeted her fingers around her drink, shooting happy stares to Hange, Erwin and Mike as she went to rest get head on Levis shoulder.

Hange softly smiled back, curling her lips on an upward curve then brushing of three long to stare at the couple with ogling eyes. She focused on the conversation Mike and Erwin were having, as if it was something important enough to get lost into.

"I'm just wondering where Nanaba is, she said I'd find her here." Mike spoke with a puzzled voice, bobbing his head around to scout for the familiar blotch of short blonde hair that acostumed the face of his long term lover.

"Ah, she's with (y/n), silly. They're probably somewhere around if you want to say hi." Hange beamed.

Levi's eyes went wide and his hands numb at the sound of your name; he couldn't believe the plastic cup hadn't slipped off his palm. It had been so long since Hange had mentioned you so casually in a shared conversation, at least before him that is. It was more than natural to assume his friends hadn't cut ties with you, in contrast to his previous belief.

It was unlikely they were working against him on this situation, but his mind couldn't stop from running in possible imageries between them and you. Were they going to that cafe near campus with you when he denied their invitation? Did they spent some nights at your new place, drinking and driving you on watching horror parodies, when you despised it?

He shook his head trying to brush bubbling thoughts of you away from his mind. With a quick look at Petra, he decided to gulp down the warmed up lager, in hopes of finding relief in a stronger refill.

He despised the way beer didn't spritz on his tongue in it's warm state, but he refused to cringe at the aftertaste. Meanwhile, on his left, Petra enthusiastically bobbed her weight between her legs at the sound of another well known song. He didn't bother to comply to her moves, his eyes averted bitterly to the emptiness of his cup, yet he couldn't eagerly decide to step out of the comfort of his position.

Strolling around meant that he could come across you and he wasn't sure whether he wanted that or not.

Yet, Hange was adamant about dragging him, through the crowd to the kitchen counter, seeing his need for a refill as an excuse to get a new drink to mix to her cocktail.

Familiar faces fleet the kitchen, strolling around with numerous cups in their hands, heading to all directions. Levi pinched his nose in annoyance; the stench of sweat and smoke numbed his nostrils making him snicker, disgust masking the look on his face.

Setting his goal as to find a closed bottle of whiskey, his hands managed to work fast to their task. Upon discovering a single bottle that was still intact he twist the cap open, skillfully bringing the rim of his cap underneath the bottle's opening. Copper liquid poured in gushes in the red plastic, filling it to its maximum capacity.

The bigger the drink, the more chances he had to get a little drunk, maybe forget about you in the process.

"Are you thinking about her, shorty?"

Hange's voice rang in his blank head for several seconds fighting to elicit an answer out of him. He fought back, merely for a moment. If he knew Hange she would have kept pressuring him to answer her question on front of every one else for the rest of the night. He was trying to fix his mood with at least some alcohol, so he wouldn't let Hange ruin it.

He hesitated to speak loud enough for his voice to reach her eardrums. Admitting to his pain made it real, and he hated still being sentimental when it came to you. At least Hange would keep her mouth shut if she got her rightful answer.

"Well I do, I suppose." He muttered below his breath, gray eyes never averting to her direction.

Hange curious expression immediately transformed into one of pure mischievous excitement that, he had to admit, was pretty unsettling. He knew that look on his friend's face, he couldn't fight it even if he wanted to so naturally he wished he had bit back on his answer. Nevertheless, what was done was done.

"It sucks doesn't it?" Hange spoke, pointer finger stretching to fox her glasses.

"It makes me feel lonely."

"Well don't make your self suffer, shorty." Hange's eyes softened as she threw a playful punch on his bicept, her drink long forgotten on the counter. "You could try to be friends with her."

"It's not that I want to suffer, it keeps me going sometimes. And no, I don't want to."

With squinted eyes and a disappointed gaze Hange shook her head at him and grabbed her drink from the wooden counter. Her mouth formed in a disapproving smirk causing her cheeks to squint and scrunch in an almost too comical manner. Levi knew he should have paid, absolutely, no mind on stressing over it; whether she was right or wrong she wasn't in a place to judge him for any of his choices, especially on the ones on his romantic life. And even more executionally, on ones she had helped him make by setting him up with Petra.

Not that he had anything against Petra.

He actually enjoyed her company. The cute little remarks she'd make for him, the way she cared for anything he did or the way her eyes would ogle at him as if he was a god. She could keep her space clean and she was kind to everyone in the sweetest manner. On top of that she had a girl next door type of beauty, auburn hair parted messily according to any occasion and round hazel eyes. All in all Hange had been right to point out she looked good on him.

Tonight, Petra was shining in her favorite pastel layers. A soft strawberry lilac turtleneck with flared sleeves as a base, topped with a powder blue strappy dress and finally completed with velvet baby pink Vans. Cute sparkly pins were accessorising her hair and numerous necklaces with moon and star charms shone on her neck. The effort she had put to perfect her aesthetic had indeed paid off; she looked like a fairy under the erratic lights of the party. She had achieved her initial goal to stand out from the occasional soft girls around the crowd, signifying she was Levi's girl.

With Levi's popularity amongst ladies, she had to be effortlessly perfect.

And she was, for as long as she was concerned.

Levi shot his eyes to his friends' direction, catching quickly glimpses of the way Petra danced with Hange. Erwin and Mike were nowhere to be found for now, as he assumed they would be searching for Nanaba.

He cringed at the chaotic arrangement of things; Nanaba had distanced her self from the group because she was your childhood friend so her relationship with Mike naturally came second to not forcing you into the same group as Levi. As if Levi wanted to be forced to be in the same group as you.

Fortunately, you had plenty of friends as to not to stick onto his group.

He was gulping a mouthful of his drink, copper whiskey watering down his dry throat as if he hasn't drunk anything in hours, when his eyes met yours in the crowd. His heart immediately skipped a long beat, chest heavying at the sight of your flushed face.

Maybe, on second thought, you hadn't actually noticed him.

You stood outside of the massive glass window proudly downing the shot in your hand after cheering on it with Eren. There was joy written on your makeup accessoried face; with your eyes squinted and your smile spread to your face asour hips moved according to the music engulfed in Eren's palms. Your hair swayed with each one of your movements, (h/c) locks landed messily on your face and shoulders mirroring Eren's to perfection. Levi couldn't help but notice how Eren's man bun was coming undone on the erratic movements his made.

As you slightly squated, attempting to perk your buttocks in the air for your partner to grab, your baggy jeans tightened their hug on your body in perfection. Levi remembered having seeing you in those baggy cargo jeans from afar on a few occasions, always thinking how good they looked on you, always admiring how you could always lull off your desired aesthetic effortlessly.

It was true that had he not seen you flawnting your effortless dark urban style, he would have thought that Petra had been the only girl who could show anyone how dressing aesthetically could be achieved. But you were something different. They way your breasts sat firmly at the bustier bits of your spaghetti strapped top, adorned by the corset like nature of the torso tube looked magnificent paired to your jeans. Your jet black Dr Marten's boots peaked from the flared finish of your jeans, giving the look a 90s grungy edge along with your all natural -be it for your dark maroon lip color.

Looking around, amongst numerous art majors like you he couldn't find someone who could mimick the way you pulled it off.

There fore, on a way he didn't blame Eren's hands as they traveled down your curves and touched tenderly at your torso. Even if the motion pulled any string in his heart that wasn't numbed by his alcoholic beverage.

He loathed you looked so good, and he loathed the way you danced to the loud tune as if no one was around.

With another big gulp on his whiskey, he felt the world slowing down around him.

As your eyes finally met -this time it wasn't just him imagining things- the tune changed, mocking him for gawking at you while taking your side against him. He noticed you mouth the lyrics to him, your head turned to his direction as his eyes struggled to rip away from your form.

Your moves on Eren became more intimate, more suggestive as you scratched the nape of his neck, bringing your mouth close to his ear to whisper words Levi couldn't have known of. Quickly, Eren pulled away with a pouty smile, displeased that he had to pull away from you. It was in that second that Levi's chest tightened dangerously, as Eren's lips brushed chastely on yours, noses bumping on eachother.

In an attempt to shook the image out of his head he turned on his heels, cup squeezed in hand and stomach growling in anxiety as he marched to his group of friends. Smiling faces welcomed him but he paid no mind in reciprocating the slightest glance. Levi wasn't exactly the type to bounce back immediately after having experienced his heart sinking in such horrid way.

Unsurprisingly for him -seeing that he was used to things only going downhill after a shitty event- Mike appeared out of the blue with Nanaba linked on him through their elbows. It wasn't in fact Nanaba that shattered any remain of his, already ruined, mood, but the person that clung into her palm.

More specifically, you.

"Heyy!!" Hange screamed, hands stretching towards your direction, already pulling you in her embrace once you reached her velocity. "I have missed you so much, where have you been these days!"

"Hange we went out for launch yesterday." You giggled through your squished cheek.

"Noo, that was ages ago I miss you everyday."

You shot a judgemental look at Erwin from Hange's back as she began to pull back from your embrace. The lisps and slips of her tongue were starting to become prominent as she poured words before you in an excessively fast paced manner, leaving you unable to come up with a way to respond to her, let alone understand what she had been saying.

Erwin scratched the back of his head an but his lip in response, shoulders rising up in an unbeknownst manner.

"You shouldn't let her drink that much. You know how she gets." You scolded, looking around the faces of your friends, trying your best not to let your faint voice get overlapped by the loud reggaeton beat.

Once again as Levi's eyes locked gazes with yours your breath hitched inside your chest.

His hand strode out to Petra's waist, pulling her closer almost too automatically for anyone not to notice. The commotion caught your eye, but you never flinched, much to your demise. Petra's hair swayed to the right as her smile widened from the sudden affectionate gesture, making you sick to the stomach from how soft and fragile and enchanting she had managed to look.

"Anyways I just came to say hi, I'll go find Eren now-"

Your words were cut short as your aforementioned significant other showed up bouncing in excitement beside you. Mirroring Levi's actions he pulled you close in a swift movement before ensuring he gave soft smiles to everyone. Hange excitedly greeted him back as Nanaba and Mike caught him up in casual conversation.

Levi watched as the brunette whipped his head whenever he flawnted on his achievements, causing Nanaba to shoot him awkward smiles and Mike to shrug him off in the process. You could see the despair in their faces as Eren egoistically carried on the conversation, but you tried to shrug it off for the moment as you conversed with Erwin.

Your mind wouldn't stop ordering your eyes to attach themselves into the picture perfect couple ahead of you, who paid no mind to your mere existence. In a way you blamed yourself for having caused this. Had you uttered a single hello to them you wouldn't have received such treatment. It served you right for knowingly intruding their space with the intention to make your presence known to Levi.

If you knew if the way Levi's eyes fell onto you everytime you looked away, you wouldn't have had yanked Eren's hand in an attempt to gain his attention.

"Ah sweetheart, I'm sorry, Yeagerbombs with your Yeager boy?" Eren blinked his emerald eyes into yours, pride splattered in his smile for his -cringeworthy to anyone else but himself- pun. You couldn't help but let out a nervous snicker of a laugh as he yanked you close to him again, pleading eyes landing into Levi's stormy gaze.

For you, the world seemed to stop in the moment as you took in his dimly lit face and delicate features. The music fell deaf to your ears as you gawked at him, hands trembling and tongue tied in words that you failed to recognize.

That mellow melancholy in his eyes, the adorning eyebags, the way some short coarse hairs on his face tried to mimick his neatly kept undercut, it all seemed unreal to you.

How long had it been since you had been so close to him? Nowadays it seemed the two of you had moved on to whatever. You had tried so much to avoid eachother that your timing never allowed the two of you to meet, not even for a the slightest, in hopes of forgetting about each others existence.

What downed you, though, from your precious pink cherry blossom rainfall bubble was that Petra was wrapped lovingly around him, her aesthetically pleasing image fitting conveniently with your little fairytale background, throwing you out of it.

By faintly excusing yourself from the group you let yourself lose on Eren's grip as he slipped you away from the crowd and towards the kitchen.

__

Levi didn't want to have to take a trip to the bathroom of a sorority house. In thought it seemed disgusting and unsanitary, but he had so much to drink that his body had been begging and screaming to him for some sort of relief.

He assumed the upstairs bathroom would be clean, supposing there weren't any horny young adults crushing their reproductive organs against eachother as there would normally be at any party of this nature.

With a steady knock that elicited no answer or even a simple grunt from the other side of the door he knew he was good to go. With a movement of his wrist the handle twisted and he slowly let himself in, eager to get through the process as fast as possible.

A few moments later and the fly of his distressed jeans was being zipped up again, tucked neatly under his black crewneck's bottom. He scrunched his sleeves up above his elbows and run his hand under the sink, waiting for the water to warm up.

His face looked tainted in the mirror; puffy eyebags and a deadpan expression while his lips stayed chapped. In an attempt to look presentable he run his now excessively washed hands through his front bangs tagging slightly to form a little volume at the roots.

He hadn't expected to swoon so easily at the sight of you being playfully entangled with Eren. He hadn't expected his heart to sink at the sight of you being explicitly affectionate with anyone before him and he wondered if it was simply due to the fact that he hadn't been accostumed to it. He certainly hadn't expected of Eren to step in and swoop you away before his very eyes; the pain of seeing you next to a friend of his seemed even more devastating for a few seconds.

Nevertheless, the little shit had always had an eye on you, even if he liked to consider himself as a protegee if his.

Levi wondered if you had felt that loathing feeling as well. Petra hadn't been that private about their relationship, with her constant posts on Instagram, her continuous snaps of him on a daily basis. Whereas he hadn't seen you post many things in the course of eight months.

He had brushed off the idea of scrolling through your socials a numerous times before finally agreeing on linking with Petra. Secretly he'd search for your shared photos, hoping they'd appear out of nowhere on your profile. Secretly he'd stare at his archived posts, contemplating on whether he should keep photos of a better time protected or whether he should delete them.

Now with his back against the sink to prevent himself from catching his reflection judging him, he unlocked his phone and tapped the familiar fuchsia icon. As expected, Eren's profile icon flashed in a pink and orange ombre circle before all others, signaling he had posted a story. Not supressing his pulled heartstrings who were set to call the shots tonight, Levi tapped on the icon with such force that a loud tapping sound filled his ears.

The video loaded painfully slow, his data connection giving in to the thick bathroom walls. Eren's face flashed on his screen, sheepish smile adorning his features."There's no hope for us!" He spoked in blurred pronounciation. "Even the anti smoker is smoking!" In a quick sequence the camera angle shifted on you, apathetically taking a drag out of a freshly rolled cigarette while cussing him out in a stern tone.

Silently he scrunched his nose and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Surely you still hadn't learnt from past mistakes. In seldom occasions you'd smoke while mixing your drinks, nothing unusual for people at your age; although Levi knew better than to do it consciously, you sometimes did. He had been strick and unforgiving on you, snapping out on you the following day for not taking good care of yourself. Clearly his short temper had only pushed you to riot now that you were away from him.

When the door shot open, causing him to jump and nearly let his phone slip away from his grip, he couldn't bring himself to realise for how long he'd been sitting in the bathroom, replaying Eren's story.

His eyes quickly recognised you as you shot your arms to pull your hair away from your face. He had seen you from every possible angle, a feeling that once upon a time had made him feel sick and trapped, pushing him to make stressed decisions. Every little detail of yours was curved in the back of his brain, awaiting for moments like this to unleash. It was easy like that to recognize you for miles ago.

As much as he'd like to, he didn't make a move towards you, afraid that maybe if you saw him out of all people in this state you'd jump in fear.

Nonetheless he couldn't help the silent inquiry concerning your condition not slip off his mouth. "You alright there?"

"I'm fine." You gulped, supressing the urge to spill your stomach's insides before the person behind you. "It's just- my ex is here and I- I guess I got stressed and I smoked and I drunk too much and ugh-" you cringed at the way you overshared your personal matters with a stranger, although you momentarily found comfort in the action. No one could judge you if they didn't know you, right?

"You don't say!"

Of course luck wouldn't be on your side. Ever since you laid your eyes on him a few hours ago you knew it in your heart this night would fall in crumbles, but did it really have to be this way?

You jumped, startled at the sight of Levi's familiar face, ignoring the way your heart fell as hard as a rock in your stomach, ignoring the vertigo like feeling to numb the poor organ. Puke hitched in your throat and you ripped your eyes away from his form in a panicked state. Your stomach emptied in the porcelain toilet, leaving atrocious sounds as it burned and scratched on your throat. You feel your whole body go weak with every shot of your stomach. Your hands couldn't keep their grasp on your hair; they quickly fell near your legs.

Levi crouched to your side in a heartbeat, his quick instincts getting the best of him as he grabbed your hair tenderly in order to keep it away from your face.

"Fuck, just how much did you even drink?" He whispered, hand reluctantly reaching to soothe down your back.

"You should know." You barked. "You were staring. How dare you?"

He had grown accustomised to quite make out your mutters by assuming what you were feeling in the moment. Athough, as your excessive vomiting came to an alt, you yanked your hair angrily out of his hands, refusing to associate yourself with him anymore.

As you meticulously washed your hands and mouth you noticed his stretched hand shielded the way to the door, blocking you from exiting. Your dizzy state didn't allow you to be feisty as you fixated your interest in swooning over the way his arms looked with his sleeves rolled up. You took a mental note to scold yourself for that very fact once you were sober enough.

"I have to go to my friends, thanks for helping me."

"You're not going anywhere." You noticed his breath hitched as he spoke. Was he equally as drunk? Wasn't he supposed to handle his alcohol like he had always said? Just how much had he had to drink? "You're not going anywhere until you tell me why you drunk so much."

Your silent thoughts geared up inside your brain, ready to skyrocket out of your mouth the moment you opened it to speak. "It's because you're here and you're with her and seeing the two of you in action is only making it real!"

Levi erratically blinked at your word vomiting. He hadn't expected you to just spill out those words without a notice it a warning, hell, even a little warm up would be nice to help him form a preserved reaction without becoming a drunk stuttering mess.

Without warning your hands wrapped around him, chests pressed against each other in the firmest way possible, sending shivers down his newly sweating spine. Normally, he'd say he hated the way you nuzzled against the crook of his neck, wiggling your nose through his crewneck sweater to coo into his warmth. Normally, he'd pinch himself and wake up and you would disappear, never to been seen laying beside him in such manner again.

Normally his blood wouldn't pump profoundly in his veins in excitement and lust as your touch and your smell.

As the sweet aroma of vanilla and pergamont englulfed his nostrils his arms loosened around him before jumping to the sides of your face, yanking it away from his neck. His next move was crucial; thumbs tenderly stroked on your cheeks as his stormy eyes looked silently into yours. He could only listen to his heartbeat as he crushed his mouth against yours in a feverous manner.

His body pushed against yours in need to pull you into the kiss as you responded with equal effort to your passion. Fortunately for him you had spent minutes trying meticulous wash out any smell or taste away from your mouth with some oral hygiene products you had happened to come across in the cupboards. The fact that he was drunk didn't mean he was inconsiderate of his need for everything to be clean.

__

All in all, be wasn't sure how the two of you ended up in the backseat of his car, topless with your tongues genuinely battling for dominance.

He must have been in a haze as he pushed past and out of the crowd, erratically trying to remember the general direction in which his car was parked.

As his hands gripped everywhere he could find his eyes didn't dare to shoot open. Existing in this moment, dry humping to your hips from underneath you. Tiny bumps adorned your skin every time he touched you. The freezing air of December had finally brushed its effect on both of you, soft shivers shook your whole form and he couldn't help but notice.

He couldn't think straight, despite wanting to though.

Your lips launched in the soft spot on his neck in an effortless manner. To him it was obvious you hadn't forgotten his own anatomy; all the places that you touched teased him perfectly to submission making him sink into the black industrial seat.

Your hands passionately grabbed the back of his hair, elbows colliding with the skin just under his collarbone.

"I've missed this, I've longed for this."

Your words, whether they were intentional or not, slit through his chest and set fire to the wound, causing another wave of stressful passion to spread from his stomach to his whole body. Chaste kisses were places all over his face, underneath his bangs, on his eyes, even the tenders corners of his jaw.

Your noses crashed, your breaths mingling in the air as your lips found his again.

You moved your lips in perfect synch, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that were fabricated to fit perfectly on eachother. It hurt you that your bodies were working against your sober wills. You made another note to punish yourself for that as well once you were in your right mind.

His hands wrapped tighter around your back, crashing you impossibly closer next to him. Your chest fought to rise and fall as squirms escaped you, engulfed into his mouth.

"We shouldn't do this here, I'm not up to voyeuring anyone." He remarked, but fell silent as you placed another brushing kiss on his lips before pulling back to slightly nod in agreement.

Before you knew it you were wrapped in his jacket, your top long forgotten in an unseen corner of his car. His own charcoal black crewneck shielded his body from your sight as he hit the pedals of his car almost too closely to the allowed speed limit.

Long forgotten were his friends and date to the first party, long forgotten were any attempts to find excuses for whatever had ignited what was happening.

The trip to his apartment was quicker than what you had expected; maybe it was for the alcohol in your system that left you in a constant vertigo, but your head wasn't getting any better. The warm golden Christmas city lights adorned every single aspect of the streets and captivated your eyes spreading their heat into your whole form. With Christmas around the corner the current situation felt even more alluring to indulge into.

Christmas always meant Levi, in a way.

You swore you only blinked for a second once you entered the apartment building front door but when you opened your eyes you were before his door.

As always, it read 25B.

In a flash you were underneath him in his bed, hair sprawled everywhere around you as his lips angrily assaulted your collarbones. You didn't trust your drunk antics to tell you if the night was still young, but you assumed it could still labor a few more hours of the greediness between two long lost lovers.

"I" he started acting kissed on your lips as his hands came to mingle with the button of your jeans. "Want you to know." Another kiss was placed on your lips. "That" another "I-"

This time you cut him off with your swollen lips on his, sucking all air out of his lungs. "Just kiss me and we'll talk about this afterwards."

__

Your eyes throbbed as light entered their cavities, reflecting on your irises despite your best wishes. You had only just shot out a hand to shield them from the warm rays of sun when panic stabbed through your chest like a murderous intruder.

They blueyish grey tink to the walls and the futuristic design of the drawers and nightstands were all too familiar to you. They stood there, mocking you on all their dark chocolaty color for being unable to come up with an immediate answer to your whereabouts.

Your head was being occasionally jolted in throbbing hot pain as you decided to look around you in the matress, in hopes of recognising the person to whom the newly sounding grunts belonged to.

To your utter shock and disbelief, Levi shot up from his position on the bed. You watched as his eyes widened at the sight of you, grey orbs slightly shrinking in shock and realisation.

"What did you-" he began but soon his hand shot up to his own throbbing head. "Shit just how much did we have to drink?"

"Okay I have a better question," you added to your shared misery "are you as naked as I am?"

It was on rare occasions that you had seen such irrational panic mask Levi's face, yet this time must have been the most striking one amongst the ones you could recall. His skin had lost at least two shades of color, his lips parted slightly. His forehead was cringled as his eyebrows were skyrocketing away from his eyes.

Although when he opened his mouth in an attempt to confirm the obvious, he was quickly cut off by the sound of his doorbell being rung, along with three stern knocks on his door. Even his phone started ringing from beside him, adding pressure to his momentarily frozen state. He picked the divice in his hands, fingers shakingly making their way to the acceptance button.

"Hey Petra!"

"Hey love!" You heard the cheerful voice fill the air through his speaker. Petra had a really loud voice, you noticed, it was either that or that your head was about to explode from the hangover. "I'm outside, please open up, you left without even saying goodbye and wouldn't pick up your phone. I'm so worried."

"Tch, give me a second I'll get changes and we can have breakfast at that cafe you like." Levi grunted, his thumb reaching to rub soothing circles on the prominent vein in his forehead.

"Can I come inside?"

Shit.

"Yeah yeah." He spoke as he hit the closing button, his phone being slammed against the bed. His head turned to you, only to reveal a section of his throat that was bruised in lovemarks you had left on him. "Hide, stay silent, I don't know which one, just do it."

After his harsh order, his eyes never had a chance to reach yours as he got up from the bed to sprint to his dresser, hurriedly searching for the only washed black turtleneck he owned. He hadn't even had a chance to look himself in the mirror, but knowing you, you couldn't have held back from munching on the skin in his throat.

Upon his quick discovery, he threw on a pair of gray of sweats that he recover from the hanger behind his door.

You didn't dare speak, hell you didn't even dare move, the fear of being discovered in such pretentious position -as the third person- in a house you once had lived in overtook your natural senses and your irrational thinking. Your heart didn't cease to sink as moments later you heard the door click open, then immediately close.

The familiar buzzing sound of silence filled your ears a few moments later. This time realisation kicked in immediately in hopes of drowning your mind in excessive amounts of overthinking. That's how it was then?

Your head plopped down the pillows, sinking deeper and deeper with each passing second. Your heart skipped essential beats and your breathing hitched in your throat. Only one question stood on top of others.

What had you done?

Tags because yay: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 and @ackermans-freedom-inc because I know they were excited for this story and the new addition to my taglist (??) @alrightberries 👉🏻❤️👈🏻

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi #levi snk #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman imagine #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi imagine #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot x reader

[mythiccheroacademia]

“I done been down so long, lost hope, I done came down so hard, I slowed. Honesty, forever, all a real nigga want.”                  —Kendrick Lamar

Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader Context: Mafia!AU. Kirishima’s last relationship was pretty shitty and he’s scared of it happening again :/ Warnings: explicit language, mentions of cheating

All Characters are 18+

A/N: Bakugo should be a relationship counselor or something. He’s a little rough around the edgeds, but he makes some pretty good points. Enjoy <3

Kirishima Eijirou | Loyalty

“I don’t fucking like this.”

Kirishima sighed as he swirled the drink in his hand. “I heard you the first time, man.”

“There’s other ways to get what we want besides walking into enemy territory like idiots.”

“This is the only way to get the information we need tonight Bakubro and you know that.”

A matching pair of red eyes irritatingly glared at him. “So you’re just alright with what they’re doing?”

“I never said that.”

“Whatever,” Bakugo hissed. He smacked his teeth before looking away at the bustling crowd.

To finalize a truce, the Bakugo family had been invited to their old rival’s weekly mansion party. It was a cheap way to make amends in Bakugo’s opinion, but considering how exclusive the Rior family was with their parties, it was basically a peace treaty.

The young yakuza leader hadn’t planned to go. However, his intel heard wind of a foreign group regarding illegal dealings on their turf. So they were here to scope out the place, leaving his stealth team—you, Sero, Kaminari, and Mina—to dig up some info. Bakugo and Kirishima were back up.

Bakugo dug a finger beneath the corner of his mask to itch his skin.

“Shitty mask—who the hell does masquerade balls anymore?” he grumbled.

“We’ll only be here for an hour more and then you won’t have to worry about the stupid mask again,” Kirishima reminded.

The slightly sharp tone from the red-head’s voice made the explosive blonde glance over. Despite his aggravation, Katsuki was well aware of the fact that Kirishima didn’t like this mission any more than he did.

Not because there was a good chance the party would get shot up. Well, that was a heafty part of it. But it was mostly because it involved you confronting your ex who happened to have some information they were looking for.

Eijirou’s feelings for you wasn’t a mystery to anyone—including yourself. He made it clear that he only had eyes for you. You luckily returned his feelings. Yet, he still held back.

And it was because of that one night where a bottle of whiskey and a couple of tears gave him suspicion that you might still be hung up about the man who last broke your heart.

The same man that Kirishima had been eyeing like a hawk for the past twenty minutes.

Bakugo followed his line of sight to see that you and Awase were deep in conversation. To anyone else, it appeared like old friends catching up. But they knew otherwise.

Awase took whatever chance he got to touch you. Whether it was to tap your arm after a corny joke or to move you away from uncoordinated guests. He laughed a little too hard and smiled a little too wide to be considered friendly. But what really sold him out was the longing gaze he bore.

He wanted you back. You knew that and you played it to your advantage.

From what they could hear in the earpiece, you were working the hell out of him. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, it rubbed Kirishima the wrong way.

“Stare any harder and you’ll set the bastard on fire,” Bakugo snorted.

The crimson-clad man blinked out of his trance and turned away in slight embarrassment. 

“I was just making sure they were okay,” he muttered.

Katsuki hummed unconvincingly. An uncomfortable silence passed over the two. Kirishima’s tense aura was throwing him off and he hated how it even bothered him in the first place.

He put his hands in his pocket and inwardly groaned over the conversation they were about to have.

“You really like Y/N, don’t you?”

Kirishima made a surprised sound in his throat.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, shitty hair,” Bakguo gritted. “Don’t make me repeat myself!”

There was another pause before a low chuckle left Kiri’s lips. “Oh. That obvious?” He looked up at you before his gaze softened upon seeing you smile. “Yeah. I do. More than I can say.”

“Do you trust them?”

“…Bro, what?”

An angry vein nearly popped out of the blonde’s forehead. “Are you dumb or are you deaf!? Stop trying to make me fucking repeat myself!” he yelled.

“Sorry! Sorry! I’m just not used to having these kinds of conversations with you!” Kirishima nervously laughed.

“Well if you don’t want my help then you can fuck off—”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” he interrupted. Eijirou adopted a solemn expression as he rubbed his arm in thought. “I—Of course I trust Y/N. Just like all of you. I trust you all with my life.”

Katsuki put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Now you know that’s not what I meant. You and Y/N obviously have a thing for each other but you two are dragging the other along.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Bakugo. I’m trying to give them space to heal—”

“For them or for you? As far as I’m concerned, they’re just fine.”

“But that night—”

“That night was three months ago, Kirishima. Y/N is not your ex. Let it go.”

Kirishima glowered at his friend and snapped. “Easy for you to say! You weren’t the one that got cheated on for two fucking years!”

The volume of his voice created a small feedback within the earpieces.

“What was that?” Sero asked.

“Is everyone okay?” Kaminari followed up.

Mina tuned in. “I’m good.”

You quickly hummed in affirmation before going back to your conversation.

“I hit my earpiece. My bad,” Kirishima mumbled.

With that being said, everyone went back to their duties. Bakugo coolly waited for his friend’s breathing to calm before speaking.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” Kirishima sighed. “I didn’t mean to blow up like that. Sorry.”

“I get it. Touchy subject,” Bakugo curtly noted. “I’ll just say this. Not because I really care about what happens between you two, but because your moping pisses me off.”

A smirk spread across Eijirou’s lips. He shook his head but listened for his friend’s words.

“The only person getting in the way of you two being together is you. I know you’re wary because of that shit rag you dated before, but you can’t expect every partner after to treat you the same way. Y/N already trusts that you won’t do them like their ex did. If you love them, why can’t you do the same?”

“How do you know they trust me?”

Bakugo tilted his head. “Maybe if you opened your damn ears up, you’d know where their loyalty lies.”

“Huh—?”

“Thank you for this!” you said as you slipped the note into your pocket.

“Anything for you, bambi,” Awase smiled. You were about to take your leave when he held your waist. “Actually, Y/N. I was thinking we could plan something later. To catch up and maybe continue where we left off?”

Kirishima tensed as the blue-eyed man pulled you closer. He was about to turn away when you removed the hands from your waist and took a step back.

You weren’t hesitant in your answer.

“I’m sorry, Awase. But no. You were the one that said we wouldn’t work, remember? Besides, I have someone else I’m waiting for.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened.

Awase looked saddened but nodded respectfully. “Ah. Another man stole your heart.” You gave him an apologetic smile to which he chuckled. He brought your knuckles to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on them. “Whoever he is, he’s a lucky man.”

“I would be lucky to have him.” You pulled back your hand and met defeated cerulean eyes. “Goodbye, Awase.”

“…Goodbye, Y/N.”

You watched as he left and waited until he disappeared before telling the team you retrieved the info. As they cheered, your eyes wondered into the crowd before they met a pair of crimson irises that sparkled with something you hadn’t seen before.

Despite your curiosity, a wide smile spread across your lips as you gave the two men a thumbs up.

Eijirou remained frozen until a hand nearly shoved him towards the ground.

“Well, shitty hair? What are you waiting for?” Bakugo grunted. He gave him an encouraging smirk. “Go get your s/o.”

Kirishima grinned. He didn’t need to be told twice.

#Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #bnha scenario #mha drabble #honorable mentions: #katsuki bakugou #mina ashido #Sero Hanta #kaminari #awase tsume #can you tell i'm a lil obsessed with the mafia/yakuza trope? #2.5k follower event and celebration!

[visual-explorxtion]

The One That Got Away [Leon S Kennedy x Reader] - One Shot (NSFW)

Synopsis: You caught your boyfriend cheating and you're looking for an emotional getaway in a bar. Until you met Leon and you both instantly hit it off. But not everything is what you hoped it would be.

A/N: This one took way too long. I've started writing this prior to everything I've posted and it was on and off in between. Imagine this as older Leon (RE Damnation and up). I had a basic outline of the plot but kinda got derailed further I wrote and now it's a smutty, angsty and depressing fic (Three for the price of one). I thought I wrote too much and also not enough but it turned into a 5 page fic. And I also didn't realise I was writing in first person until halfway through. So, bone apple tea.

Word count: 3,842

The low murmurs and whispers of conversation surround the dimly lit bar, just two blocks away from my own apartment. I thought I could catch a break from my reality and sit silently with a drink in my hand. Hoping that I would get drunk enough to let my thoughts shut down, even just for a little while. But my mind circles back to him. My so-called boyfriend. Even though we are dating, our relationship just seems so...platonic.

I shake my head and took another sip of my drink. The ice cubes are slowly diluting the burning sensation of whiskey down my throat. Soon, this wouldn't be enough to forget all my problems. Irritated by my drink, I set it back down on the bar table, hoping that the aftertaste of alcohol would take my conscious away. I place the glass gently back down on the coaster and nudging it back and forth until it is exactly in-line with the circumference.

I leaned forward, pressing my forearms against the chilly, oak bar table. The sharp sensation ran up my arm, sending goosebumps along with it, awaking my drunken state. That was the last thing that I want. Reality setting back in.

The place was illuminated by the strip lights underneath the bar table and several backlights coming from the shelves of liquid. My bleary eyes tried to focus as I lift up my hand to signal one of the bartenders. But, to no avail, they do not seem to notice my presence. "Goddamnit..." I muttered under my breath. At this point, I could just slip out of this place and they won't even know it. I thought about it for a second but decided that it was a bad idea.

"Bad night, huh?" A low, raspy voice called out. I looked towards my left, where the voice came from. A man sat two seats away from me. His fringe covered most of his face so I couldn't tell what he looks like, but his chin was in view, chiselled and full of stubbles that could be seen even in a place with poor luminosity. "You wouldn't even know it," I answer, surprised that someone notices my existence. I've seen this man before. He's always here when I come to this bar, sitting in the exact same seating. I assume he's one of the staffs here, but he could just be a regular. Either way, it isn't any of my concern.

He chuckled, "I've had a handful of those before. I understand how you feel." His head angled slightly towards my direction. His face is now just peeking out from behind his golden hair. His eyes are piercing blue, like a vast ocean full of mysteries. He's handsome, beautiful even, but full of pain and hurt beneath it all. How could a man be so beautiful, and yet, so fragile?

I scoffed at his response, taking another sip of my now watered-down beverage, eyes returning to his gaze. "I'm sure you do," I spoke, resting my chin on my palm, giving him a smug grin. Maybe this is what I need, talking to a stranger, surely this will take my mind off a lot of things. He shook his head and smiled. "Hey, I'm Leon. You come here often?"

My brows furrowed and a little smirk came out of my lips. "If you're looking for someone to warm up your bed, then I can assure you, you've got the wrong girl," I paused, "I'm already seeing someone." Those words made my stomach wrench. I know full well that I'm the one that's seeing them, but they don't see me. No, not in the same way. Not anymore.

A breath escaped through his nose as he replied, "Well, I guess that makes the two of us...kinda." He takes a final sip of his bourbon and signals. "Another round...and make that a double." The bartender nodded and pulls out two glasses from under the bar table, now half-filled with alcohol, the bartender place one glass in from of me and slid the other one in from of Leon. I raise the glass up with my thumb and index finger by the rim, inspecting its content. The backlight is shown through the transparent liquid and dispersed in all direction, it's pretty and hypnotic. Though, the effect of the drink itself isn't as pretty as you'd think.

"Glass half full or empty?" My question sounded more like a statement. Leon gave a little laugh to my expression. My cheeks slowly burned up into a pink hue as I relived those words inside my mind. How stupidly naive I must have sounded.

Leon took the hint of my embarrassment and also raised his glass. "I'm neither an optimist nor a pessimist. All I know is that this is a good bourbon. And sometimes, that's all that matters." He reached out with the drink in his hand. I stared at it for a good while, "I think we could both agree on that." I smiled to myself as I return the gesture. Our glasses emitted a small clink to our small celebration. Bottom of the glass now upturned and down goes the alcohol, the scorching feeling made my face scrunch up. The bourbon slowly making its way into my bloodstream as the room that surrounds me spin like a carousel.

Hours go by, the muttering of conversation comes and goes, I have no recollection of our exchange, yet some faint pieces of memories spark up in my head. Knowing that you were a stranger, I spilt all my secrets, my fears and weaknesses, but you just listened and nodded along. An emotion blooms inside me, a warmth, telling me that we are the same type of people, the way we understood each other. We are lonely and just wanna belong somewhere.

Every day, I look forward to the moment when the sun hangs low and the moon comes up to dance, almost every night, I wander back into the bar with a light flutter in my heart. Knowing full well that Leon would be there, in the exact same seating, a glass of bourbon to accompany him. I found my life with meaning once again, understanding that I am not alone. Our conversations found their way of chatting about my life, to his. The story of his life and the things he had done shaped the person he is now. Though I know he speaks truthfully, I can't help but notice the gaps in his biography that he decided not to fill in. Whether to think after everything he revealed would make me scared of him, or I would look at him in a pitiful way, but that did not matter. The Leon I met, he's nothing like how he described himself. In my eyes, he's a soft and gentle soul, who got a few humorous tricks up his sleeve.

Sometimes, I think I'm somewhat emotionally detached, even if the sky topples, my mental state will remain calm as the world crumbles around me. I wouldn't scream, nor would I cry, I'll just quietly accept this as my fate.

And fate's plan came crashing down on me in one swift motion. Not even a second too early or too late. My most traumatic and emotional experience, all happened in a small time frame of one sunny morning. When you live through a memorable moment in life, good or bad, they become forever etched into our brain. Just like a movie. But, that same scene plays over and over again, until you can't handle it anymore. The sight of your ex-boyfriend in bed with a woman that's not you. Her hair and eyes resemble your appearance, eyes gleaming in a dark hue with their soul still intact. But, you're not her. And she's not you. He didn't choose you.

The lookalike gripping her hands around his toned arm, trembling in fear of what might happen next. What I would do next. My vision holds not her, but the so-called of a man, whom I just realise is nothing but a coward. The air around the room is thick and heavy, no words were spoken, not even an explanation or an apology. Under the hint of light, silence can be heard, from his blank expression, I knew the answer. I left not because of a broken heart, but because I don't belong there anymore. And I'd be lying to myself if I say I wasn't sad. Deep down, you knew this was bound to happen. You knew this from the very beginning, the spark wasn't there. You just weren't ready to admit the facts because you are afraid. Afraid of being alone again.

Waves of emotions hit one after another. Exchanging between grief and relief, this emotional loop cycles on. The crystal glass in my hand mirrors my mental suffering. Once empty, then full again and empty once more. Now drowning in a pool of liquor, until I can no longer distinguish between night and day, I hope this cycle never ends.

"Isn't it a little too early to hit the bottle?" A familiar voice came into my earshot, "Well, if it isn't my new-found buddy, Leon! Come, drinks are on me!" The laughter in my throat refusing to cease, everything is now on autopilot. The room sways back and forth to the beat of the music, every bassline played made my head blurrier each time, the lights in the bar almost seem like someone crank the exposure to the highest level. He sighed and took a seat, seeing there's no other option. "Jesus...how many have you had?" His concert did not reach me as I just skimmed over his question. "Hmm...4? 5? I lost count...but who cares?! I'm here to have a good time!" I exclaimed, both fists pumped up in the air and chuckling idiotically to myself.

Leon's brows scrunch, a finger rubbing at his temple, the crease on his forehead gets deeper by the minute. His drink arrived but his focus was elsewhere, he would take one sip, then looks back at me, contemplating. "H-hey, aren't you supposed to...protect the city or s-something, Mr detective-man-or-whatever?" I hiccuped, with half my speech slurred. "I'm not a cop. I don't...can't protect people." He took another sip. "Isn't that...hic...what you've told me?" I pressed on, this isn't what I've intended to do. He exhaled, "It's complicated." A drunken smirk left my nose, the alcohol had intoxicated my system and left my mouth defenceless. "Is it really that complicated? Or do you just not want to tell me the truth?" Jesus! Shut up, me! I can see the rage boiled behind his darken eyes, his fists gripped and nails digging deep into his flesh. "You. Need to stop drinking."

The clock strikes midnight, but neither one of us had any intentions to sober up or face whatever reality has prepared for us. We laughed, argued and make flirtatious jokes to one another. The air between us shifted, hot but still intoxicated. Even so, my mind still lingers on the images that shattered my heart into a million pieces. I don't want this anymore. "Hey...what if I kiss you right n-now? How would you react?" I giggled. "Sure. I'd be glad to," he said, facetiously. "Pfff, come on! I'm serious!" another hiccup. "You're drunk and trying to take the piss out of me." I locked eyes with him, setting my next words in a serious manner. "Am I? Why don't you come and find out?" I slid my hand from his forearm down to the back of his hand, drawing circles with my index finger, tempting and testing his borderline. A small grunt caught in between his lips, gaze running up my skin and idly to my mouth, his fixed stare lingered what feels like an eternity until we meet eye to eye.

What happens next came to me like a blur. I took his hand and led him away from the bar. The place was too packed for anyone to know if we were gone by the next second. We stumble away through the crowds of drunks living on cloud nine, but our hands kept a grip tight on one another. I pushed on; wanting to feel something, anything, even just for tonight. The burning desire inside has reached its limit, but so was Leon's. He twirled me around and constrained my backside up against the bathroom door. His body leaned in close to mine, our faces just an inch apart. The feverish breath touched my neck, turning me on even more so. I can feel his hesitation as his lips close within range, just hovering close to yours. "Would it really kill you if we kiss?" my words were hushed, giving him the final push. And those were the few words to make him let go of his rationality. Before I could acknowledge my next thought, his hand slip under the back of my neck with a firm grip and our mouths collided in the heat of the moment. His kiss was strong and passionate, everything that I imagined it would be, my hips feeling every inch of his, teeth gently grazing my bottom lip as I parted them to deepen his taste. Heat radiates off his chest as our tongues now intertwined with the taste of bourbon and sweetness, Leon showed no signs of backing down as his hand squeeze my hip tighter. But we had to break our physical contact when the chatter grew louder from inside the bathroom. Our hearts still racing, panting breathlessly and aching to be together again, though both of us would rather avoid being caught in an awkward situation.

My body mindlessly took us further down the deserted corridor to a backdoor that leads to an alleyway, the door itself could easily be missed if not observed carefully. I extended a hand to push open the door but was abruptly interrupted by Leon's demanding kiss. Eager to be whole again, he hoisted me off the ground effortlessly, binding my leg around his slender waist. The faint sound of music could be heard from the interior of the building, imitating the beat of our hearts. My back is up against the rugged wall once more. His nails dug into my thigh as I whimpered at the pain but Leon's kiss grew more hungry and impatient, urging for something more. The heat between my legs burning white-hot for this man with absolute longing. As if he could read my thoughts out loud, his hand travelled up to the waistband of my jeans, a finger hooked underneath and running it across my waistline and stopping just before where the buttons clasp. His tease sends chills along my lower abdomen, I'm struggling to keep up my composure.

Leon's icy blue gaze pierced through me, signifying his needs. "Do it." With the sign of my approval, he ripped the jeans clean off my sweat-covered legs without a hitch. My bare limbs glistening in the moonlight, reflecting off the moisture with the gentle breeze caressing them. The heat on my face grew, knowing that my lower parts are only concealed with a thin layer of fabric that's half opaque. Leon smugly grinned at the sight presented to him, licking off the residue from our kiss, he lets me down delicately as my feet touch the sturdy ground. He shifted and on both his knees, positioning himself in between my legs, feeling nervous being fully exposed to him. I stifled a gasp as Leon steady my balance with hands on either side of my hips, his kisses trail down the torso, leaving marks all over my stomach, down to my v-line. His soft fingertips skim the hem of pants then he dipped his head low, the black, lacy underwear caught between his teeth, removing them until I'm left bare and vulnerable.

I can feel his eyes exploring every inch of uncovered skin, like a wolf with his hunting instinct. His mouth found its way to your folds. The next thing you know, a foreign feeling spreads open your lower organ, heat escaping from your core and drip down to your inner thigh. You squirm and twitch with every movement of his tongue, chest rapidly rising and falling with each breath taken, you know you are close to the edge. Your hands clench his hair gently as he continuous drive over your sweet spot, humming, until you unravel your senses upon him. Knees giving out as everything tingles from head to toe, Leon catches you in his arms as you recover your strength.

Cleaning you off with the tip of his tongue, he reclaims his posture to tower over you and returns lips onto yours. The passionate kiss filled with desire, you can taste your own thirst mixed with his own saliva. Sultry and sweet. Chest to chest, every curvature and dips of his toned muscles embrace my own, our heartbeats synchronised. His scent of cologne mixed with sweat gives me a sense of comfort. I can feel the outline of his bulge through the thick fabric. One hand placed on the small of my back, the other desperately uncuffs his belt and down to his pants, revealing his length. My eyes widen in awe at the size of his...thing. It's pressed up against my abdomen, from shaft to the tip, Leon seems to be satisfied with my reaction as his egotistic smirk painted across his face. I swallow, mentally preparing myself before any attempt on riding him. Holding the base of his cock, now positioned near your entrance, you draw a hand near it and gently massage it. As if it's fragile, my hand gave it a few pumps then guide his tip inside. All that foreplay made it much easier for him to enter.

His tip without any difficulty. "Breathe" his deep, husky voice whispers in my ear, then inch by inch, until he fills up all my crevices inside. He took a pause, letting me adjust to his size for a minute, then slid back out again. Without a word of warning, he thrusts his cock back in all the way to the hilt as I let out a lusty yelp. The electric shock sends my pelvic muscles twitching and tensing around his cock, the repetitive motion causes me to ache for him even more. My hips sway and grind along to the beat of his movement, harder and faster, making him let out a soft cuss. The twinge at the back of my mind resurfaced again, flashbacks of this morning's event, haunting my thoughts again. Standing in the same doorway, looking at him and her on the same bed, same stiffness in the air. But, I'm looking at me through her eyes now, situated in this dark alley. The fear crept in. I can't love him. I know better than this.

"Hey. Just focus on me." Leon's hands cupped my cheeks, radiating the warmth I know, calling me back to the light. His tongue has taken up my mouth once more, diverting my focus from my own broken mind to the love he's providing. But you shouldn't. Hips picking up the pace, every bump and vein hitting my sensitive spot as I cry out, calling his name out in ecstasy. Leon's breathing is getting heavier with every beat he thrusts, bringing me and him closer to coming undone. Hot liquid spilling out, filling you up to the bream, overflowing like my emotions. The feeling he provided which shifted something inside, a beacon of light into my own soul. He pulled out, the inner content spilling out slightly as we redress ourselves again.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. The pang of guilt hit him. Just like everyone else. My feet stumbled a few steps back, almost tripping myself up in shock. The tears behind my eyes threaten to fall out. I have to get out of here. I spin on my heels and made a run for it. This isn't how it is supposed to turn out. I know better. Knew. "Wait! At least let me take you home-" "No!" My feet kept on pushing me, yelling at me to keep going. Hot tears pour out inevitably, unlike tonight. It's all my fault. I naively believed that we were the same- wanting the same thing, am the same type of people. I was wrong. All I ever wanted was to stop being alone, but you chose this. You wanted to be alone. And I've made a mistake. "Wait, goddamnit." I stopped in my tracks, tears falling nonchalantly. I turned, leaving him with only a few words. "I'm sorry...but I fell in love with you tonight." But we both knew the answer.

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#this fic turning out to be sad and depressing was accidental #i was hoping to put more chara emotion into it but it kinda slipped #lemme know if you want me to put warning tags #its a smut fic #can you believe #leon x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil damnation #resident evil 6 #resident evil vendetta #re leon #im gonna slap this on ao3 too #gonna sit in my room and zone out for 5 minutes #⭐️.doc

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and Her Gunn (Part 115 2Xs2) "True Intentions"

@crystalbaby12 @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @5sosfam1dlover @rosefilledhearts-blog

"I've got different colored sticky tabs for the different spaces." Luna announces as she enters her storage unit.

Jackie and Sam are there with The Movers. Luna goes through picking out which pieces will go to The Brownstone, her Studio Apartment and the Recording Studio she just bought. She had signed the closing paperwork electronically with Monica and Ben earlier this week on the latter properties. The Apartment is ready but the Recording Studio needs a contractor for the equipment installation. Jackie being on top of that, they start the gutting process next week. Everything else is being moved out today.

"Whoah!!! Be carful with that!!" Sam cries out in concern as she watches The Movers roughly handle an original, stretched Mapplethorpe.

"What the FUUUUUCK." Luna groans as she rubs her forehead. "Why wasn't that crated?" She asks no one in particular as her phone rings. "Hello?" She sighs into the receiver.

It's Kylie. Luna's therapist. Calling because it's 2P on every other Thursday. Luna excuses herself, trusting Sam and Jackie while she finds an empty stairwell.

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"It's just conflicting, Ky... " Luna let's out with an annoyed sigh and a cloud of smoke from her pen while playing with Colson's padlock around her neck.

She's been on the phone with Kylie for the last 45mins talking about everything and anything. Colson, Justin, trust, feeling over exposed, setting up the lable. Her therapist advising her to breathe as always and to make a Pros and Cons list regarding marrying Colson. Knowing there is no option, Luna humors her with an Okay before they get off the phone.

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"How do we look?" Luna asks after coming back in from the stairwell.

"Good." Jackie begins to reassure her. "Everything you want is loaded into the two trucks. I'm gonna ride to The Brownstone and Sam to The Apartment... Uhm, Lee said you're good to go at Electric Lady Land around 7P... "

"And I talked to Mikey, he'll be there no problem." Sam chimes in.

"You guys are fucking AWESOME. Thank you." Luna pulls them in for a three way hug. "I gotta go meet Petey." She informs them once they release. "You guys good without me?" She asks.

Both women nod. Giving promises of phones calls if there's any problems as Luna heads back towards the stairwell; popping another XR and two 30s during her descent. It shouldn't be THAT hard... They're only responsible for moving half of her life.

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Colson gets in touch with The Boys and heads to Amsterdam Billiards for pool and beers. Popping his own handful of Adderall along the way. Stepping out of the cab, Mod greets him with an excited hug.

"What up, Kid!" He squeezes his unhappy friend. "Aww, come on... Don't be like that, you know Luna'll come around. She always does." Mod tells him with a slap on the back as they walk inside.

Benny, Baze, AJ, Rook and Slim have a table racked up. Mod grabs more beers as Colson joins them. They're all talking about the GMA performance. Agreeing it was killer. While Rook also can't stop talking about Jackie.

"Good luck with that, Rookie. I don't think Loons is doing any of us any favors right now." Colson sighs as he leans down to break.

"Shit. Speak for yourself, that's my homie, Dawg." Rook disagrees with him as he swigs his beer.

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Luna meets Pete on The Delancey's rooftop bar. He's already sat when she walks in. Noticing her, he stands for them to hug Hello. His normal excitement clearly missing as she orders a drink.

"I heard you and Colson got into it after I left." Luna cuts right to the core.

"Yeah. He wants to blame me for him running his mouth." Pete starts to complain to Luna's silence. "Like I started all this shit."

"You kinda did... I love you Petey but whether I cheated on Colson or Justin, like I told you last night, it's none of your business. My betrayal didn't land on you or even Colson so really the two of you are fighting over some shit that doesn't even concern you. It's that simple." Luna explains.

"So you did cheat on Beebs?" Pete asks her, ignoring everything else she had said.

"Yeah, Petey. I told you last night that I had an affair. I'm not proud of it but it happened." Luna shrugs as she fights back tears of guilt.

"Who was it?" He pries.

"What? No. You don't get to ask questions like that... Like, I don't understand why this feels like you're mad at me for some reason. I didn't do ANYTHING to you." Luna furrows her eyebrows at him as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Yeah but you did do something to my friend that he never did to you." Pete looks into his beer and then up at Luna.

"You didn't know Justin and I's relationship as well as you think you did. Just like you don't know nearly as much about me and Colson as you think you may. My turn? Your judgmental attitude towards me is really disappointing and if you're so worried about your FRIENDS than go make up with the one that's still in town. I'm outta here though." Luna swallows the rest of her Old Fashioned with two gulps. "Hit me up when you're done being a dick." She calls over her shoulder as she walks out of the bar.

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Mike's sitting alone outside of Electric Lady Land when Luna arrives. Lighting a cigarette, he looks up. Green eyes taking her in as he stands to grab her guitar case from her.

"What's goin' on, Luna?" He asks as he sits back down and takes a drag from his Marlboro.

Luna fishes around in her bag for her joint box and flask. Finding them both, she takes a swig before offering it over to his acceptance. Lighting a joint, she sighs out a cloud of smoke as they sit in silence. Sometimes no talking is good.

After a while Sam shows up. The three of them head inside to meet up with Lee. Thanking him, he tells Luna no one was even booked as they begin to set up in Studio A.

Realizing they need producers, Luna calls Slim. Then Snaps Colson. Setting her bag on the table, she pulls out supplies. Weed, whiskey, cigarettes and more weed. Popping another few 30s before laying her guitar back onto her body.

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"Yeah! No problem, we'll be down there ASAP." Slim says into his phone. "That was LunaTic, she wants us to come produce the track." He says excitedly to Baze once he hangs up. "Dawg! We gonna make some music in Jimi Hendrix's fucking spot, Yo!!" He exclaims as they slap hands across the pool table.

Colson's just about to put his two sense in when his phone goes off. Digging in his pocket, it's not the message he was expecting. It's a Snap from Luna.

"If I want? What kind of fucking shit is that?" He scoffs in his mind. "Why's she so fucking hot even while she's being such a fucking a bitch." He finds himself becoming annoyed with how much he wants her and her resistance towards him. He shoves his phone back in his pocket without responding.

The Boys are getting ready to head to  Greenwich Village when Colson's phone goes off again. It's the message he's been waiting for. Telling The Boys he'll meet up with them later, he's out the door before they pay the tab.

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Luna's leaned towards Mike in the booth when Colson walks in. He can't hear them but he doesn't like that he can see him making her laugh. Mike's a little to comfortable in his interactions with Luna in Colson's personal opinion. Luna catches the back of his blonde hair and significant tattoo as she looks up, watching as he walks out of the room. He quickly heads down the hall towards the bathroom, promptly pulling out the quarter ounce of cocaine he'd grabbed from Nipple.

Colson walks back into the studio just as Luna, Sam and Mike begin recording. Sitting with Slim and Baze at the soundboard, he grabs a pair of headphones and slips them on. Listening and watching intently. Luna can feel his eyes burning straight into her soul.

Nailing it on the third full take, they leave it alone. Luna doesn't want it mixed. Layered, yes but not mixed. She's always preferred the gritty, garage rock sound over studio polish any day. Coming out of the booth, she approaches Colson as he stands up.

"You came." She purrs with a drunken slur to her sentence as she wraps her arms around his waist.

"I go where you go, Kitten. Always." He promises her before lifting her chin to kiss her deeply; enjoying their first real kiss of the day but opening his eyes half way through to stare down Mike from around the side of the top of her head.

Hanging out afterwards, they celebrate with beers and lines. Luna declining as everyone else partakes in Colson's party favor. Having done enough other drugs all day, she's still buzzing from earlier so she's solid without it. Preferring to burn and drink instead.

"What do you have recorded so far?" Mike asks Luna about her upcoming album.

"I think maybe three out of an ambitious twenty!" Luna laughs softly at herself.

"I'm down to help with anything you need." Mike offers as he passes her a joint.

"Thanks... I'm probably gonna take you up on that." Luna answers. "I don't really have a band right now and we... "

"That's why you got us." Rook interrupts her while plunking down on the couch beside her and tossing an arm around her shoulders; he doesn't like the way Mike has been hanging around Luna either.

"That I do." Luna giggles as she kisses his cheek.

"We backed her on Nightmare and I produced Outlaw." Rook declares proudly while studying to the musician.

"That's cool, Little Man." Mike responds unfazed by Rook as he stands up. "Luna, you got my number if you wanna use it for anything. I gotta run though." He smirks at Rook as he leans down to peck her cheek.

"You want me to walk you out?" She offers.

"Nah, I'm good... I'll catch you around though." Mike smiles at her before heading for the door.

Watching the entire interaction, Colson follows behind him. Calling out his name, he catches him in the hallway right at the front door. Mike turns around unamused.

"You know we're engaged, right?" Colson questions him with an irritated tone.

"Yeah... And?" Mike cuts back while cocking his lip.

"AND? And I don't like the way you fucking act around her so back the fuck up." Colson snaps at him.

"Gonna be kinda hard since it seems that SHE wants ME as her new bassists." Mike laughs at him while slapping him on the shoulder.

"Gonna be kinda hard to play ANYTHING when I snap your fucking fingers." Colson warns him as he shoves Mike up against the wall; Mike's 6'2 so there's not much of a height difference between them.

"Try it, My Man." Mike chuckles, unimpressed by Colson's threat.

"You know what, you're right... " Colson let's him off of the wall. "Maybe I overreacted." He says as he opens the door for Mike and he begins to walk through. "Or maybe I FUCKING didn't!" Colson growls as he grabs Mike's right hand and jerks him back.

Slamming it with the door, in between the frame. One. Two. Three. Four times. Most likely breaking it.

"YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT!" Mike screams as he grasps his mangled hand.

"You can walk away right now or you can crawl away with two broken legs also." Colson advises as he props the door open again.

"You're gonna FUCKING regret this." Mike snarls to Colson's emotionless stare as he holds his hand and turns to leave. "That was a bad fucking move, My Man." He calls out from the sidewalk.

"Maybe it was... Maybe it wasn't... But DAMN if it didn't feel good." Colson walks back to the studio with a pep in his step for the first time today; having released a majority of his stress. "I never liked that motherfucker anyway." He thinks as he opens the door, looking to locate only Luna. Knowing in the back of his mind that her and Sam are gonna probably fuck him up for what he just did but he doesn't care. Fuck that Dude, he doesn't want him around Luna regardless of the cost.

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"There's stuff!!" Rook exclaims pointing at the large, round arial rug, crates and boxes in The Living Room as they return to The Brownstone. Everyone but Luna is zooted, even Sam. "Yo!!" Check out these fucking chairs!" Rook continues to holler, now from The Study.

It's also stacked with boxes of Luna's books and vinyls. Having one wall with floor to ceiling bookshelves, she's looking forward to using them. Walking in, she finds Rook lounging on one of the two highback, purple velvet chairs she owns along with the exposed Mapplethorpe.

"What's up with that picture?" Rook asks as he accepts a beer from Luna.

"My grandfather shot it." She tells him proudly as they clink their beers together.

"It's really cool. Like the two flowers are reaching out for each other. Like death grasping for life." He says thoughtfully.

"I think that's what he was going for." Luna smiles to herself, admiring the exceptional piece.

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Luna makes her way upstairs to the shower. Turning Fletcher on, she lights up a joint as she cuts up another two 30s and swallows two Xanax bars. It's been a long day, she hasn't been to sleep in almost 48hrs and she's incredibly shaky from all the Adderall. Wanting to simply wash everything away and knock the fuck out.

"Hey... " Colson's sitting on the bed when she comes out of the bathroom.

"Hi." She answers as she stops and looks at him with a sigh.

"Please come're, Luna." He asks for her as he reaches his arms out yet again.

This time she does. Sitting on his lap in her towel, she wraps her arms around him and nuzzles her head into her spot in the crook of his neck. Resting his chin on her head, Colson and Luna hold each other silently besides his constant sniffling.

"Loons, I'm sorry." Colson speaks first. "I shouldn't... "

"Please. I'm SO tired." Luna whines. "But, Colson, it's not the secret that you told. I would've told Justin had he cared to notice or ask. It's that you told A secret because I've got bigger ones than that. You have no idea." She sighs sadly.

"Like what, Kitty?" Colson pries with concern.

"Seriously, I am so fucking tired, Col. Can I please just sleep. I promise I'll tell you everything." She pleads with him as the Xanax begins to take over.

"Okay... " Colson agrees as he kisses her forehead. "Lay with you?" He asks.

"There's no way you can lay down right now... Just come to bed eventually, please." Luna requests.

"Yeah." He promises "I love you." He tells her before taking her face in his hands and kissing her passionately.

"I love you too." She kisses him lightly on the lips again once they release before crawling off of his lap.

Dropping her towel, Luna climbs into their bed. Wrapping herself in the warm, custom blanket, she snuggles into the pillow with heavy exhaustion. Colson leans down and kisses her cheek. Dropping another I love you into her ear as she mumbles the same. She's out before he closes the door.

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Colson, Sam, Baze, Rook, AJ, Benny, Mod and Slim are downstairs for the next few hours. Jamming, talking uncontrollably and bouncing in and out off the front stoop to smoke cigarettes as they blow through the bag of coke. 

The house is still bare so they decide it's a good idea to start setting Luna's books up on the shelves. They're all high as fuck, doing whatever they want. Sam and Mod begin trying to organize her vast collection but are making no sense. Baze gets caught up in a hardback limited edition entitled The Great Big Book of Rock and Roll. Slim and Colson are in awe when they open a box of her records. Sitting on the floor, they start going through them like little kids in a candy store. Rook's really flying and gets bored quickly, heading into The Living Room to beat his energy out on his new drum kit. Benny and AJ are the only chill ones as always. Maxed out in the purple chairs, they continuesly puff on and pass blunts to the other wackos. Luna sleeping through it all.

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Sam and Colson find themselves out on the stoop alone. Their normal awkward silence is gone as cocaine fuels their conversation. Talking all things Luna. This is one of the reasons Sam barely hits the slopes, she talks too fucking much when she's on 'em.

"You can't be mad at Pete." She offers up her opinion. "Luna's like another little sister to him." She tries to explain.

"Yeah but he's supposed to be my bestfriend." Colson disagrees.

"I get that... So can't you understand the fucked up spot you put him in between the two of you?" Sam counters as she takes a drag off of her Camel.

"Yeah... I think he thought she cheated on me... " Colson trails.

"Look, he had a really hard time with Justin and Luna's relationship too. We both did. Justin would disappear and we'd be looking for him with Luna. Sometimes we'd find him sometimes we wouldn't. Sometimes he'd call Pete, me or Izak on his own. Pete and Izak would hide him... It was fucked up." Sam shakes get head in dismay as her own heart breaks. "Justin would get clean, be good for a minute but then relapse all over again and she'd be a fucking mess. If anyone tried to paint their relationship as picture perfect to you than they didn't truly know them. Luna and Justin had a lot of problems." Sam admits to one of the first people ever; Colson seeming to have that effect on people.

"She doesn't really talk about him... I mean a little but I can tell it's restrained." He sighs.

"There's my Sammy Bam Bam!" Baze interrupts them with a grin as he opens the door.

"Make up with Pete." Sam pats Colson on the shoulder as she stands up to head inside with her boyfriend.

The Cocaine Cowboys eventually round their night out. Sam following Baze to his room as Rook, AJ, Benny, and Slim head to theirs. Mod being super grateful for the spare bedroom he slept in last night. Colson making his way up to a still sleeping Luna.

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Stripping his clothes, Colson climbs into bed with Luna. Her body is warm as he slides himself around her. Firmly running his hand up her outer thigh, along her hip and ribcage before crawling around her breast. Feeling every inch of her once more as he runs his hand back down her slender body.

Luna moans as her hips begin to shift back and forth out of need and instinct. Colson grows harder against her back as he slips his fingers along her pussy lips. Feeling her juices spill out as he lightly dips his finger inside of her.

"Mmm... Fuck, I've missed her taste." He mentally moans, not being a able to resist sticking his fingers in his mouth as his tongue dances around her unique flavor.

"I wanna fuck you." Colson husks deeply into her ear while he grabs her tit.

"Mhm." Luna murmurs hazily as she perks her ass into him.

Getting the Go, Colson seperates her delicate lips with his fingers. Taking his time, he slowly guides himself into Luna. Feeling her body tense as she moans and pushes her ass deeper into him. Tangling their legs in each other's, Luna reaches behind and grabs the back of Colson's neck to pull him closer to her. Kissing every inch of her that he can reach, he fucks her sternly while she bounces lazily off of his cock. With her face and closed eyes still resting softly in her pillow; she moans and fucks Colson contently in her sleep and drug induced state.

There's something about a SleepFuck that's incredibly satisfying to Luna. Her walls clutch Colson's dick in pleasure, making he thrusts harder. Releasing himself as he feels her cum all over him.

"FUCK." He breathes into her bare neck.

"Mmm... " Is Luna's only response, she's already almost back asleep.

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Pete shows up on The Brownstone's stoop with two coffees. Colson meeting him with four blunts. The two friends take a seat. Colson firing up the first blunt after Pete hands him his coffee.

"Yo... I'm sorry, Dawg." Colson starts as he exhales. "I put you in some shit... "

"Nah, Homie." Pete cuts him off as he accepts the blunt. "Luna's business is her own. No matter who it's with." Pete sighs. "I just worry about her, Man. And you too. I've seen you both go through some fucked up shit and I don't want to see it again, I guess." Pete half shrugs as he takes a pull.

"Look, Sam ACTUALLY talked to me last night so I get it a little more than I did before." Colson tells him as he accepts the blunt.

"It was just hard... " Pete shakes his head at the memories.

"I don't want this to fuck us up." Colson bares his soul to one of his bestfriends.

"Me neither." Pete agrees as he reaches for the second blunt and fires it up.

Both friends look at each other. There's an understanding between men that can happen without words. This is one of those times. With a simple nod, Pete and Colson are good. Going on to enjoy their coffee, each other and the NYC morning as they get high and bust it up like nothing ever happened.

---------------------------------------------------

Luna's extra miserable when Colson wakes her up for their flight back to LA. The lack of sleep, too many drugs and her gunshot wound have her aching in every sense of the word. She doesn't shower. Just throws on sunglasses, cuttoffs and an oversized Hotel Diablo hoodie.

They make it to JFK just in time for their 11A flight. Everyone is dragging, not only Luna. Proving that cocaine is a Motherfucker. Once seated in first class, everyone knocks back out. Luna curling up against Colson as his face lays on her head and arm rests upon her bare leg.

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It's just before 8P by time they make it back to The LA House. Everyone is tired. No one is happy. All dropping their luggage in The Living Room before heading to their beds. They're so mentally jacked, no one's even thought to check The Charts, let alone eat at all day.

---------------------------------------------------

Luna and Colson sleep clean until the next morning until her alarm goes off. Colson groans as she shifts away from him. Climbing out of the bed, she reaches high to stretch. Colson watching her out of one slitted eye.

"Why are you up?" He asks flatly.

"So you can truly see me." Luna answers before disappearing into the bathroom.

It takes a shit ton of coaxing and drugs to get Colson moving after Luna's shower. Complaining the whole time as she hands him water and joints. Once in the shower he starts to feel slightly better after he jerks off. He's FINALLY fully functional after his Adderall and coffee kicks in.

Not getting as much sleep as Luna and doing way more drugs, he's really edgy. She hands him a football before they walk out of the bedroom. He's so pissy they leave the house quietly without his trademark WE OUT.

---------------------------------------------------

"Can I have the keys?" Luna asks, she's dressed in an overall romper, white shirt, long socks and one of her leathers as they walk towards the Rover in the early Saturday sun.

"Why?" Colson asks back as he tosses them to her in his own ripped jeans and black T.

"I need to drive and you need to listen." She answers before sliding into the driver's seat.

"You're talking to me now?" He counters with a slight attitude as he buckles his seatbelt.

"Do you think this is a fucking game?" Luna whips her head towards him.

"No." He answers solemnly as he sparks a joint.

"You don't seem to fucking get it at all." Luna shakes her head as she pulls out of the driveway.

"Look Loons, I'm sorry I fucked up with the Tommy and Justin thing. I shouldn't have said shit no matter how I was feeling." He exhales his apology as he passes her the joint and finally pops the Xanax she gave him.

"You still don't get it, Colson. How many times do I have to tell you.. It's not the secret you told. It's that you TOLD a secret. Period. You don't seem to realize that I'm dirtier than a fucking affair... Fuck." Luna let's out an exasperated sigh. "Let's be honest. In the short time you've known me; I've committed coercion, shot a federal agent, am in the process of setting up an underground abortion clinic... Oh! And I was blackmailed into issuing a public apology for fucking up one person out of what? A fucking dozen? And that's only been in the last 3MNTHS... Seriously, I am a fucking criminal." Colson stares at her as everything begins to register. "Fuck, I've got things going on that you don't even know about yet." She continues to worry as she hits the joint a few times while staring ahead. "And now, I'm terrified to fucking tell you about them."

"Like what?" Colson asks her with a concerned, yet amused SideEye as he takes the joint.

"Why should I tell you? Every criminal who's been caught is usually taken down because of their irrational lover." She looks over at him with a light smirk and hazy blue eyes for the first time during their car ride.

"You really gonna play me like that?" He scoffs at her before inhaling a huge hit.

"I don't know. You wanna say don't call Jax but are your stupid ass, jealous comments gonna get me popped one day?" She bites back as she fumbles for her cigarettes.

"Are you fucking serious?" He spits out as he starts to get angry with her. "What the fuck do you think I would do to you and what the fuck else are you doin' that's worse than what I already know? And where the FUCK are we going?" He demands as they continue to drive.

Luna's quiet for a long moment as she smokes her Newport. She's trying to keep herself calm and figure out exactly how to tell Colson about what things. Already having made her decision long before they got into the SUV to give up her biggest secret.

"Tell me, Luna." Colson asserts as he lights another joint.

"All in?" She asks him firmly as she looks over at him and holds his stare while he grabs her hand to reassure her. "I told you... I'm dirtier than you think. I own properties that clean money and stash shit for one of the biggest distributors on The East Coast." Luna admits in a hushed voice.

"It's for Tommy, isn't it?" Colson immediately snaps as his mind flashes back to his conversation with Benny.

"OH MY FUCKING GAWD!!" Luna can't help but scream. "You are so fucking hung up on other dudes that it's insane and probably what's gonna get me caught!" Luna stops. "How can you not see that I tell you more about myself WILLINGLY than any other human being on This Earth? That you know more about me than Justin ever did." Luna's lip trembles as tears escape from her eyes. "So, yeah... It started with Tommy but I have bigger associates now... " Luna shakes her head. "That's only a blip though. There is so much more at stake for me than that!" Luna slams her palms against the steering wheel in frustration as she begins to sob. "You have no fucking idea." She shakes her head again as her voice breaks.

"Then what is it, Luna?" Colson softens his tone with her.

Coming to a stop light, Luna turns her head and looks Colson dead in the eyes. Her hands are clutching the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles are white. There's a look on her face he's never seen before. It's a mixture of sadness, pain and determination. Taking a shuddered sigh, Luna flicks her cigarette out the window. She finds herself begging The Universe that he won't betray her this time as she's about to tell only Colson her true intentions. Lighting her own joint, she inhales deeply and holds the hit in. Looking over at Colson, she studies him. He stares back, waiting for her words.

"I'm gonna kill Smurf." She states icily before turning away, releasing the brake and focusing on what's ahead. "Still wanna marry me now?" She asks, puffing on the joint without taking her eyes off of the road.

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Part 2 of 2

To be continued...

#mgk #mgk fanfic #mgk imagines #mgk smut #mgk imagine #colson baker fanfic #colson baker imagines #colsonbaker #colson baker smut #colson baker #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly #fighting #violence #snorting drugs #prescription drugs #drugs #murder #longstory #long post #long reads #est4life #est19xx #est #petedavidson #pete davidson #newyork #lunatic #tragic love

[imaginesandideas]

Quarantine with Flip

treat it like a modern day AU so hopefully it doesn’t suck

when it starts you’re both a bit worried but you know there’s not much that you can actually do

Flip got dismissed almost immediately along with other detectives to reduce the risk with only few cops remaining at the station

he’s a bit annoyed at first - they were just in the middle of a case before the lockdown happened

but all the tension melts away as soon as he realizes that a chance like this may never happen again, and that for once he can give you as much of his time as possible

with the limited amount of free days he can normally shell out, this seemed like a perfect opportunity to finally spend some time together

so you start teaching him how to cook

after you run out of recipes gets some from his mom and she’s more than keen on sharing them with you via voice call

sometimes they turn out great and sometimes …not so well

like that time you burned quiche cause Flip was so warmed up he just had to draw your attention away from the oven and back to his embrace

you ended up wrapped in sheets and eating ice cream that day iykwim

when you’re not cooking or trying to cook, you two enjoy puzzle or some old board games you found in the basement

it took Flip a week to convince you to try some card games with him

it’s a hidden talent of his

over the years he’s told you many stories about all the times he’d beaten his colleagues in a poker game

at some point it had become a personal skirmishof sort between the guys at the station

eventually, which was the moment you’ve gotten so good at poker he was genuinely afraid you might just win him over one of these days, Flip got, shall we say, bored

so bored he actually tried to convince Ron and Patrice during a video call, to play bridge with you

„With all due respect, but your husband’s lost your mind. I’m so sorry _____.” Ron teases and you laugh from behind Flip’s back. 

„Yes I’m aware.” You respond and Flip sends you a look. You just lean down to peck his forehead in an apologetic manner. But Ron continues.

„How are you even handling this? Like, come on. Zimmerman can get damn annoying with those fucking cards.” You chuckle.

„Piss off Stallworth. You’re just mad cause I always take your cash.”

„Yeah, maybe I fuckin’ am!” Ron responds with a laugh and all of you burst out laughing.

Patrice suggests a drinking game instead and you actually make it happen

you bring a drink of choice to the table and start the game

to convince Flip you settle on Irish Poker and it’s a jackpot

at some point he starts pointing fingers at you cause he’s pretty sure you all must be cheating

you know it’s because all of this whiskey and suggest another game

„Never have I- what?”

„Ever, Flip. Never have I ever!” Patrice and Ron giggle simultaneously. 

it doesn’t take long until all of you are at least tipsy

Flip is clearly getting handsy with you and keeps planting kisses along your neck as you’re sat on his lap and you’re pretty sure it’ll turn into a double makeout session if you don’t do something about it

so you cut the meeting short with a promise of a do-over before Flip throws you over his shoulder like you’re weightless and runs straight to your bedroom

you might have collided with the wall once or twice

but it’s more than worth it 😏

in fact you can’t complain

it seems like Flip’s took the „seize the opportunity” theme to heart and you’re at it everyday

sometimes more than once, depending whether or not you’re in the mood

quarantine allowed you to focus on your needs again, and Flip is right by your side to endorse you

the man freaking adores you, and seeing you on a daily basis, at almost any minute only confirms that marrying you was by far the best decision he’s ever made in his life

since you only leave the house for supplies you stopped doing your makeup, or at least the full version of it reducing it to the bare minimum

and Flip loves the bare you

how you raw beauty radiates unleashed

how your skin glows in the light of the day or in the soft, afternoon candlelight

he loves how you stopped caring about whether your hair looks perfect or not

it’s not like you completely stopped looking at yourself in the mirror and forgot to take care of your body

you actually seem to care about it more and use this extra time to regain balance, both physically and mentally

and you involve Flip in it too

he worships you and you worship him back with all you have

Filip was never the one to be concerned about his looks or what people were thinking about him

he cares too much about his work and you to bother with that

but for once he doesn’t flinch when you’re showering him with praise

especially if his skills are the reason

he likes to tease you about it 

„Honey let the neighbors live. They’re stuck too.”

but you always have a snarky response

„It’s not my fault that their sex life is worse than ours.”

Flip couldn’t love his isolation life more

not if you’re stuck with him too

#flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman headcannon #flip zimmerman headcannons #headcannon #headcannons #quarantine headcanons #blackkklansman headcannon #quarantine fanfiction #me? writing for Flip? it's more likely than you think

[lxvesickreality]

mistakes 1/4

Request: Hi this is very long but i need to get this off my chest can i request for a Stevexreader where they are married but  its falling apart with Steve forgetting their anniversary, reader cooks dinner but he comes home late and he gets pissed at her until one time she discovers he’s cheating and she forgives him but she isn’t the same anymore. What’s worse is that she gets fatally injured and hydra kidnaps her. You can decide whether it ends in fluff or angst.THANK YOU SO MUCH

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, talk of miscarriage and ectopic pregnancy, terrible writing

Word Count: 2,061

Add on: My computer has completely took a shit so I have been writing everything on my phone which has been really hard. I’ve had a lot of family issues but hopefully I can get to writing some more. 

Add on number two: This is a little different than what requested, just a little. Part two is already in the works. 

gif is NOT mine, credits to owners

Steve Roger's married Y/N L/N out of love and being only 2 years ago when he did, he still loves her with every fiber of his heart and soul, hur he did something he knew would break her entirely. Steve didn't want that-his actions and words said otherwise though. The first time he did it was an honest mistake; he was reeling from the argument he had with Y/N and it was a really bad one so he went to let off some steam at the gym with a tall bottle of cheap whiskey to take the edge off. She came at the wrong time, she took advantage of his vulnerability and his drunken state. That was his strategy, to blame everything on her; she did initiate the first kiss between them. His brain was foggy and his vision was blurry from the amount of alcohol he'd previously consumed. Their actions did not go far before Steve was already pushing her away. He had realized what he had done and how it wasn't right. All he did was get a little carried away.

The second time was in fact her fault. Desperate for his affection that should be directed towards his wife, Sharon had climbed on his lap with lips puckered and had her bosom popping out from her tight fitting tank top, the one usually wore on missions to seduce targets, she purposely wore to seduce Steve instead. Y/N had gone to the bathroom when Sharon did this to Steve and it made him uncomfortable to ever be alone with her but since the first incident, he felt extremely guilty even looking at her so he tried to keep his distance.

The third time it happened, Steve refused to admit it was his fault but he showed up on Sharon’s doorstep demanding to be with her. Something was off with Y/N and he believed his wife was seeing someone behind his back. He decided not to confront her and to get back at her instead. Some might say he was looking for an excuse to be with Sharon. She was more than welcome to lead Steve into her room where he touched every part of the woman’s body with his fingers, palms of his hands, his lips, his tongue and the part he shouldn’t have ever let happen; his member that was happy to get attention from someone new. He was guilty, he has been all along.

He stuck with his strategy through the next few months. Y/N became distant and cold to Steve leaving him alone and confused as to why she was doing this. He knew for sure she has no idea he had cheated and he planned to keep it that way because even if she did cheat, he still couldn’t tell her he did it too so he started staying late at work after he had enough of not feeling wanted at the place he called home and the guilt was following him everywhere he went. Of course this did not go unnoticed by Y/N, she took note of every time he did it and her heart slowly went piece by piece the more he did. Their anniversary of their marriage was around the corner and Y/N knew she had to tell him at some point as to why she was so distant and cold. He deserved to know. She cooked him his favorite meal and that’s when it turned to hell.

Y/N messaged Steve around 4:15pm to let him know she was making dinner and not be home late so she wouldn’t have to put it in the microwave for it to grow cold with time. She didn’t get a response back but at 4:55pm, she began preparing the meal slowly to give him some time to reply. Not too long after, she finished and she set everything out; candles surrounding the table; wine poured into two glasses; his favorite meal set on a plate; the card reading “Happy Anniversary!”; and the reason why she was cold and distant inside the card. Y/N sat there for many hours, awaiting for her husband’s arrival and it was very late by the time he entered their home.

“Where were you?” Y/N questioned when he strolled into the open concept involving the kitchen and dining room. Steve jumped back, startled by the voice of his wife. He would’ve thought she went to bed.

“I had some work to catch up on,” was all he replied with.

His wife rolled her eyes at the response and scoffed, “Sure, and I wrote an entire book on why pigs can fly. Cut the shit, Steve. You’ve been coming home late the past few weeks. You have not had that much work to do,”

“I have and quite frankly, it’s none of your business.”

“Are you serious? I’m your wife, Steve.” said Y/N. Steve took the now room temperature wine off the table and downed it. “There is no way you were at work catching up on stuff when you haven’t had a mission since the one a month ago and no one is targeting the world right now. Cut the shit, Steve! What is going on?”

“I cheated on you, Y/N! I cheated and I feel guilty but you know what, you did it first! So, none of it really was my fault at all.” there was nothing Steve could've done to take back what he said because Y/N's heart and soul broke just like he said it would. It hurt like hell to see the look on her face when he realized he'd used that as an excuse to see Sharon. At first, before he did it, he wanted to ask Y/N to see if it was true. Deep down, he didn't think she could do it. Y/N didn't have the heart to do so.

Y/N stuttered, taken aback by the turn of events, "Y-you what?" tears pricked her e/c eyes as it slowly dawned on her, her husband had been unfaithful to her and all she ever did was love him. Was she that distant and cold to turn him away? Did she do this? Did she drive him away? The first thought wasn't why he did it, she instantly turned to herself and blamed herself. It was her who did caused it. "I-I never cheated on you, Steve."

"Why have you been so distant? You barely would look at me. You slept clear on the other side of the bed. Every time you got dressed, you'd go into the bathroom. I'm married to you, Y/N! I've seen your body thousands of times. We're in love and you can't even look me in the eyes? What the hell, Y/N,"

"I hadn't been feeling well and I was concerned. I hid it from you because I didn't want you to be concerned yourself so I started to distance myself. I got worse and I went to the doctor. He said I was pregnant and it wasn't normal. It was an Ectopic pregnancy in which the fetus is in the wrong place, one it shouldn't be in. You had to leave for a few days because of the one mission from a month ago so I was going to have it taken care of but I fainted at work and they rushed me to the emergency room. They had to cut out a fallopian tube, Steve. I had surgery and I distanced myself to heal." Y/N stopped talking when she noticed the look on Steve's face. She could tell the guilt caught up to him and it made her feel a little better, but not enough. She gave him a few moments to process the information she gave him.

Steve was astounded. He didn't expect this answer to come from his wife, his wife that should've talked to him about this instead of holding it in. But he never gave her chance because he set about to stay at work late. He couldn't pin point which emotion he was feeling the worst but guilt was a pretty big one along with despair. Could she have any more kids? He doubted she'd want to after he told her about his adultery.

"Can you have any more kids? Can-can we?"

"The doctor said it'd be really hard to conceive but I could try. I still have one fallopian tube left." Y/N answered.

"At least you can accomplish your dream of being a mom,"

It became silent afterwards, a deafening silence that had so many emotions in it but it didn't feel awkward. It felt like a processing silence in a way. Y/N was still letting it sink in about her husband cheating on her. Was she that distant to the point where he shifted towards someone else. Wait, who was it, she thought.

"Who'd you cheat on me with?"

Steve's head snapped up after looking down during the silence and he winced from the stiffness in his neck. His heart raced, "Sharon,"

"Sharon Carter? Seriously, Steve? You still love Peggy, don't you? God, I'll never live up to her. Ever! It's always going to be her. Pretty perfect miss Carter. Now, it's Sharon. I'm nowhere near being those girls. I'm the polar opposite. Shit, I'm really not good enough for you. How did I not see this?" as Y/N rambled on about how she wasn't good enough, Steve was tearing up at the cracks in her voice indicating she was crying as well. He broke her just like he knew he would. He made her think she wasn't enough, he did this and she didn't.

He shouldn’t have told her who it was with and if he was being honest, he didn’t think of Peggy at all. It was an honest surprise because he pined over her for so long, Peggy was his true love to him or that was until he met Y/N L/N. She was so much more magnificent than Peggy, she was beautiful and smart. She knew what she wanted at all times; she was brave; she was so generous and selfless. Y/N put everyone and everything above her and Steve took all of that for granted. His wife didn’t deserve any of this, he was putting a lot of pain on her and add ten more pounds to her shoulders because of him being unloyal. Steve’s stomach was tightening and it felt like he had been punched in the gut, he felt as if he needed to throw up. It was guilt.

Only a few months ago did they purchase this house, they redid the whole house in the way they wanted it to make it feel like home. They talked about having kids, specifically three kids; two boys, one girl. It was perfect because Steve could name one boy after his best friend and Y/N could name the girl after her mother that passed four years ago. Steve and Y/N planned their future together up until death do they part but now he ruined that all with just one petty woman.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," Steve apologized.

There was a fire in his wife's eyes suddenly and she yelled, something she rarely does, "You're sorry? You're freaking sorry? Is that all you fucking got, Steve? No 'I didn't know what I was thinking' or 'it was a mistake'? All you have to say is I'm fucking sorry! I-I need you to get the hell out, Steve. Now, please,"

His heart was breaking in a million pieces, heartbreak being something he hadn't felt since Peggy passed away, but this was different. This was strong, intense heartbreak that made his chest clench and he thought his heart stopped beating for a moment. Everything seemed to stop in place after she said that because everything went silent. There were no more tears falling from her e/c eyes, the ones that now look dull and sad, she was just staring at the wall behind him. Neither wanted to make the first move, but he knew he should leave so with a heavy heart, he began to walk towards the front door of their now torn home leaving his wife.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers #captain america x reader #captain america imagines #captain america

[minjoonalist]

Better Than Before. | KSJ 18+

pairing: Ex!Seokjin x Reader

genre: smut, BDE!Jin, a pinch of Angst., what is Humor?

words: 3.1K

warnings: none :)

summary: why is that everytime you attmept to be a social butterfly your ex-kim seokjin appears and you’re suddenly a raging alcoholic. AKA- seokjin is on a persistent mission to get you alone again.

song inspiration: “Always” by Arin Ray

*** ***

You’ve never been the type of person to attend big celebration or even stay afterwards for further socializing. But you either had to choose between another Saturday spent watching re-runs of old sitcoms or actually going out to do something with your life and seeing as you were a full fledged nurse with barely enough time to take a piss… yeah it was probably time to interact with others.

The soft spot for your closest coworker had took it place once she asked for your assistance as a bridesmaid. An unfortunate event of one her friends getting extremely sick due to a spreading Flu had only ended with the poor thing being short just one person. Little did you know the sweet natured girl had actually considered you to be another close pal of her own and couldn't think of any other to put above asking you next. Originally you had planned to miss the event all in itself , even when you were just a guest. Practicing in your mirror to give the sweet girl a stern ‘hell no’, but it's Fairly obvious to see by now that, that didn't go as planned.

The air felt hot, you were sure your dress had a huge sweat stain on the back and you couldn't control the throbbing need that was slowly making you delirious by the second.

“You may now kiss the bride” the words spoken by the elderly priest that stood only a feet away from you. You looked to him. a firm smile placed on his slightly chapped lips that had everyone cheering, including the beautiful couple who were currently leaning into each other to seal their vows of commitment. It was perfect to say nonetheless, all white spreading throughout the pure rustic styled garden and the sun was shining throughout the clear blue skies showcasing the Event in all it’s beauty . You wanted to bask in it and soak up the rare moment you were apart of , but there was no use .

No, Not when there's a pair of dark occupied eyes staring your body down throughout the entire celebration.

“ I dont know whats more messed up. You- attending the same wedding as me or the fact that the next time I ever see you it's when you're in the same wedding as me” the undeniably gorgeous man that you’ve known as your Ex- Kim Seokjin- or well Jin pressed you into his side tighter just as you were following the groom and bride down flower filled path.

Wild light brown hair, pouty plump lips, and mischievous black eyes- If there was anything that made you regret going along with this decision, it was certainly him.

“Seokjin. Let. me. Go.” the venomous words slid through your teeth just as you waved towards the ederly woman in one of the rows and whom you could only assume was the groom’s grandmother.

“sheesh , still bitter I see” He glances down at you, a firm smirk still in its place when he does not-so-exactly as you wished. His long arm that was pressing you rather possessively into his waist loosened its hold and only came to grab your soft empty hand. It gave everyone the simple illusion that you two were a perfect couple when really you were anything but.

It was a couple of years ago in a situation similar to this one, you’d ended up attending a special occasion for an old colleague. It was a birthday party that your classmates happened to be throwing for seokjin and you’d reluctantly allowed your roommates to drag you there. There wasn't really much else to it since you could barely remember, you caved into downing 5 shots as you tried to drown out your boredom and completely blacked out. The only thing you could recall after that mysterious night , was waking up naked and sore next to the birthday boy himself. You’ve both only dated for a couple of months, when rumors of the popular boy’s conquests arose and you were in no mood to deal with them.

In other words- you dumped him.

“Shot of whiskey and make it dark please” you smiled innocently towards the cute dimpled bartender who busied himself cleaning cups. He nods back at you, his blonde hair falling forward as he momentarily slid his eyes over you and you vice versa. He then rolls up his crisp white button up to lean towards you, your eyes running quickly over his name tag that read ‘namjoon’ on it. “Sure thing miss” he sends you a wink , just before turning to prepare the requested drink.

“I wonder. are you going to keep batting your lashes at Virgin- juice boy over here or are you going to keep downing shots until I convince you to let me fuck you somewhere private? Preferably the latter but without the convincing part.” Seokjin’s velvety voice mumbles shamelessly into your ear making you shudder.

“As if that’ll ever happen” you scoff , just as the bartender namjoon hands you the small glass making sure to flash you his dimpled smile one last time. You raise the liquid towards your mouth, downing it in one go. Already the calming sensation spreading up from your legs and throughout your body, making the annoying Ass next you a bit more bearable . Only when you finally notice the long and intimidating gaze he has set on you. You decide to go in for more “ Another please.”

Seokjin’s nearly evil smirk never falters “ If I do recall and I truly do. Pretty little y/n downed 5 of my birthday shots and let me lay between her legs” he says way too loud for your liking. Your cheeks blushed and not from the fact that he just aired your sexual history in front of namjoon (who was handing you your next shot), but that the man had just called you pretty. Even more so that the simple compliment actually had you pressing your thighs together.

“I think we both can agree that years ago pretty little y/n made a huge mistake”

“You’re right about that” he chuckles with a nod. In return you roll your eyes, reaching for the next shot in front of you and downing that one as well. You make eye contact with namjoon once again, his soft eyes connecting with the empty glass in your possession “just one more please” you sheepishly smile and he bites his lip, silently laughing at your cuteness.

Once again a shot glass is slid your way. It was then that you noticed seokjin had moved significantly closer towards, the smell of his intoxicating cologne running up your nostrils and a large flat palm resting on the small of your back. When the hell did he put it there?

“ g-good so we agree. Maybe now you’ll finally leave me the hell alone” you attempt to ease away from him. The familiarity of the situation , bringing lost memories of how you once tried to resist the highly convincing man before.

“I never said that I agreed with what you said y/n…” he says , voice becoming husky and soft. You hated to admit it, but it was pulling you in just like the sensual gaze he never failed to keep on you. You didnt know whether to blame it on the alcohol or that you just havnt had sex about 2 seasons of big bang theory ago.

“Bu-but you just did-”

You were reaching for what was going to be your last shot , when seokjin comes in and snatches it from your grasp. You pout in return , not wanting to have to ask the dimpled boy for another. “I said you were right, only because you did make a mistake. You broke up with me when all I ever did was make you happy. Even worse, you did it right before we graduated and then you blocked me ” the slight sadness in his voice would have had you wanting to console the man had it not been for the fact that he was the one who messed up.

“Seokjin, you cheated on me. Did you really think I was going to stay with you after finding that out?” you sputtered out.

He was midway through downing your shot, when your words had caused him to gasp and choke on the harsh drink. Immediately his cool is lost, the poor man doubling over to hack his lungs out before he oddly finishes it anyway. “I did not cheat on you. Where the hell did you get that stupid Idea?” he frowns rather disappointedly at you.

“Oh please you're just saying that so I’ll let you slip your excited little hands up my dress” you shake your head but a small part of you just can't get over the sincerity that was in his stare. A silent second passes by and seokjin’s trance is broken before he asks you “how did you find out?”.

Your heart skips a beat. His soft voice riddled with no such guilt but he wanted to know how you discovered his unfaithfulness. In his eyes , he now seemed a bit curious more than concerned and it made an unsettling feeling appear in your stomach “I was told.” you swallowed “by some sorority girl - actually she was at your party” you then confessed.

“Blonde hair? Pouty lips.. And a permanent bitch face right?” he lists easily and the description matches the exact culprit who informed you of all his hidden lies. You guessed he must’ve gone off the way your eyes had wavered with uncertainty because seokjin had then let out an incredulous huff of disbelief. He hangs his head , his shoulders shaking from the small laugh that escapes his mouth “y/n. That was my ex” he says finally.

You gasped.

“You let my ex-girlfriend get into your head. If there's one thing I remember about her, its that she’s very manipulative, but also bitter and anyone with common sense knows thats not a good combination” he looks to you, only to see the disheartened look on your face. Your eyes full of guilty sadness now that you easily pieced two and two together.

“I-I dont know what to say-....I’m sorry seokjin” you managed out.

Sure you felt bad but your relationship was years ago. In-fact you’ve barely thought about him since honestly. He smiles tenderly towards you, the warmth from his brown eyes seeping slowly through your guarded shield but only now , you almost don't mind to let it down a bit.

“ Its fine, to be honest I should've known she would try something like that. You were probably too innocent for me anyways- I could’ve ruined you” he jokes though you don't laugh, your mind staying stuck on the innocent part.

“Remember I'm the girl who stole your shots and took you back to her dorm” you say catching both him and yourself completely off guard. Your eyes then widen from the risky remark, heart hammering in your chest when seokjin quirks a teasing brow at you.

You then turn back towards the bar, the dimpled blonde smiling your way when you tap the empty space in front of you “ a double would be great” you say but then for the first time seokjin acknowledges him as well. “Trust me. No it wouldn't.” he smiles a bit too sweet at the poor boy and you notice namjoon’s own smile falter from the slight animosity. Seokjin then grabs at your hand, his thumb slightly stroking the inside of you palm as the other finds its place again on your back. The intimate actions bringing your attention fully back to him when he speaks again.

“Now that the convincing part is done. Lets go somewhere a bit more private”

Honestly if you were shocked by the fact that you’ve once again allowed seokjin slip under your skin...well…that would be perfectly okay. It didn't take a second thought for you to let seokjin lead you to what looked like tiny shed, the both of you slipping in easily unnoticed as everyone else focused on the beautiful couple dancing away into their new marriage.

You're bent over slightly, Seokjin’s hands coming towards your hips to pick them up and raise your ass towards him. Immediately he groans in his spot. the delicious sight of your pussy lips glistening with your arousal reminds him just why he was so fucking whipped for you back then. You were gorgeous...everywhere and his mouth was watering just to get a taste of you again.

A finger swipes gently at your exposed slit, sending a cold shiver down your back from the subtle friction.

“You were always so sensitive for me weren't you baby?” He whispers, but by the way he confidently pushes the Long calloused finger into your unsuspecting hole, his own question is already answered.

“-J-jin…” you grunt out the broken moan in appreciation. His finger is pulling away and pushing right back in , causing you squirm and whimper from the much needed pleasure. “I can't wait to fill you up” a tiny squelch is heard as another finger is added to his torturing movements. His body coming forward onto your bare back and you could honestly melt just from the way it arched perfectly into him.

The tight knot in your stomach begins to loosen as you try your hardest hide your loud whimpers from any outsiders. Your legs trembling and you so badly want him to just fuck you already.

“P-please…” was all you could manage.

Seokjin’s fingers that were once pumping into you at a moderate pace turns to a more vicious route and you can't help but to squeal when the two lengthy digits forces your quivering pussy into its first orgasm in months. It leaves you breathless, weak and you were just about ready to collapse onto the neat shed’s floor.

“ Tsk, You haven't gone soft on me have you?” Seokjin chuckles down at you, a wicked glint prominent in his midnight eyes and when you shake your head in return. you could only shiver as the smile drops and the tiny space goes cold with his next words

“I’m not done with you yet Pretty girl…”

Next thing you knew you were being flipped onto your back and seokjin’s. strong hands had reached greedily for your underwear only to slide them completely off.

He then meets you on the ground, his body leaning back just a bit to unbuckle his black slacks. A noticeable swallow from your end driving the man a bit more mad with lust and he would swear he could cum right then and there just from that cute innocent gaze you were giving just when he pulls himself free.

“O-h…” you could barely say, your mouth completely dry. Your watched anxiously, a bead of precum already oozing out through the thick red Mushroom head of what you could definitely remember was his above average cock. The hard veiny muscle not having any shame to rub said cum swiftly down your exposed slit.

“You’re so fucking pretty baby, did you know long I’ve held this for you?” He growls out, deep carnal lust stuck in his voice as he inches closer above you. You weren't given the chance to answer him because as soon as you could , his fingers had wrapped within your once neat bun to pull your head back even further.

You could only then let out what sounded like a breathy moan. Your lungs almost giving up on you when you feel the head of his cock prying it’s way into you. His mouth laying open mouth kisses onto your exposed neck ,making his way up to towards your chin and finally landing on your mouth.

As much as you wanted to resist his kiss, the way Seokjin’s tongue had begun to dip swirl onto yours had your toes curling just from the passion of it and your entire body melting in pure bliss.

Your legs are spread out a bit wider for him, his hands latching onto the back of your knees to do so. “So cute. So good for me” he whispers out his praises into your ear, his hips jerking forward to shove his member deep into you and you nearly scream from the intrusion. Instantly you feel full, your body humming with pleasure as seokjin finds his paced rhythm. His hips slamming down onto yours with such a force that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“ so good! Yes just like that!” You exclaim out to him when the change of his angle only ends with your g-spot getting rammed into over and over.

“Look at pretty y/n. taking Daddy’s big cock like a good girl” he says, each sweet thrust matching his words. It was at this point where seokjin’s hand had ended up slipping from under one of your knees only to drop one of your legs. During the slight mishap seokjin was mid-thrust into you when you yelped and jerked your hips from the even more intense pleasure.

“Oh? Did that feel good baby? Maybe I should make you feel like that some more hmm?” He chuckles when you shake your head. Ignoring your response to switch you on your right side and sit himself on top of your right thigh, your left thigh being pushed against you as he proceeds with his wreckening.

What once was a difficult task had become impossible to withhold your loud moans. The new position allowing him to fuck further into your walls, burying himself to the hilt and maybe even deeper than he probably should be. It has your body jumping, your hands instantly bracing themselves on his highly active hips as tears started to leak from your eyes.

“So fucking cute. Pretty y/n don't ever run from me again - let daddy take care of you.” He pleads and praises you in your ear as he leans forward. “O-Ok-kay!” You unthinkingly gasped trying to catch your lost breath, his surged strokes turning your mind to mush and you could feel your orgasm climbing terrifyingly fast.

“Angh! Jin! Im go-ing to c-cum!”

You didn't have to tell him for him to know. Seokjin could feel his balls tightening with every brutal squeeze of your core- it was like you were trying to milk the man’s dick. He chuckled from the thought, his harsh grunts being masked by an unbelievably deep sexy laugh “thats right baby, milk me. Make me cum S-so I can fill that pretty pussy of yours.”

As if on cue your body gives out. Sweet burning pleasure pushing up throughout your entire body while you thrashed uncontrollably under Seokjin’s relentless thrusts.

“Mmmm!” You screamed, but your mouth is immediately muffled under one of his hands. The grip of it suddenly becoming unbearably tight once seokjin finds his own release in you.

You hold your breath, his body collapsing next to you once he slips out with a satisfied sigh.

“That was....even better than before”

#bangtanarmynet #ksmutclub #thekimlinenet #kim seokjin #bts #bts one shot #bts smut #bts jin #bts imagines #bts memes #bts ot7 #bangtan #bts au #bts scenerio #bts smut dirty #bts fic #bts fanfic #my fic

[msjr0119]

We Belong

Part 4

Evangeline Bruley returns to Cordonia to take over her families Duchy. She was betrothed to the now King, however he is engaged to Duchess Riley but still has lingering feelings towards his first love. What will happen during her time back in Cordonia?

Warnings: Swearing, mention of abuse

Just using combined tag list, if you would like to be removed just let me know 😊:

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desiree-0816 @gardeningourmet @twinkle-320 @queenjilian @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @princessleac1 @scarletreesex

*****

“What do you want Brooks?” Not meaning to sound rude towards Riley- he was just eager to spend time with Evie after everything that happened between the two of them.

“Can we talk. That’s all I want to do.”

“Five minutes okay? Walk with me to my room, I’m actually due to be somewhere.”

“Does this have anything to do with Evie?”

“That’s none of your business...” Drake snapped at Riley, usually he wouldn’t be this harsh towards the woman who he instantly fell in love with. After she led him on during the engagement tour, he still held that torch hoping that she would choose him. He was grateful that all they did was kiss, as this was hard enough getting over the heartbreak.

“I’ll always love you Drake, I just want closure...”

*****

“Liam! What the fuck! Get out of here! Now!” Picking the duvet back up, she wrapped it immediately around her once again.

“Riley knows.”

“Riley knows what exactly?”

“I suggested that we both have a one night stand, a last hurrah before the wedding.”

“Good for you, but you aren’t having it with me! So goodbye Liam...”

“Evangeline... please hear me out...”

“No liam. You can hate me for what I’m about to say but I honestly don’t care.... the only reason we lost our virginities to each other was because we were drunk... at the time we believed that we were being forced to marry.... I never loved you in that way, you was more like my best friend- a brother. You’ve always known this. I’m not being your mistress, Riley needs you...”

“She knows though... I’ve always loved you because you was my first love- you will always be in my heart... it’s hard you being back. I love Riley, I do. But I also have love for you.” Rolling her eyes back, she didn’t know what to say- no matter how many times she would turn him down he would still be there.

“I slept with Drake.”

“What?”

“I slept with Drake, it’s not hard to understand Liam. You have to let whatever feelings you have towards me go- Riley needs you now more than ever. Please don’t ruin our friendship.”

“I’d say I’m happy for you both... Drake is probably with Riley now...he does love her after all...”

“No he’s gone to his to get his things, to stay with me.”

“What things does he need exactly? He could go when he woke up.” Evie didn’t think of it that way, now feeling paranoid and jealous that he was with Riley- she had no right to feel this way, they were only friends who had slept together.

“Evie?” Liam spoke softly, as he noticed her defensive yet confident facial expression fade.

“Can you leave? Please Liam.”

*****

Liam eventually left Evie, not getting anything from her apart from a hug. Even though she wasn’t in a relationship with Drake, she still felt as if she would be cheating on him. The typical Cordonian marriage arrangement was something that she never believed in even at a young age- so she definitely wasn’t going become a hypocrite giving in to her belief. Drake had now been gone for over half an hour, Liam’s words were stuck in her head- Drake is probably with Riley now...he does love her after all..

Her usual neatly trimmed nails, were now practically non-existent, as she paced the room. Wondering if Drake would come back as he promised.

“Hey beautiful...” Evie was conflicted with how to react to him to actually showing up-noticing the lipstick mark on his cheek, inhaling Riley’s vanilla scent and seeing him all flustered- all she wanted to do was believe that what happened between the two of them was a dream.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Drake noticed that she seemed a bit tense, guarded.

“Maxwell was asking questions, you know that he’s practically the court ‘gossip girl’.”

“I see.” I wonder if max likes to wear perfume and lipstick now. “Evie? Are you okay?”

“Yes.” No. “I’m just tired. I’m going to go to sleep. Are you staying or going awol again?” She asked in an obnoxious tone of voice.

“I promised that I’d stay the night... with you.” Evie just nodded, not wanting to stay awake as it could possibly cause an argument. Sliding under the cover, she rolled over on her side- not facing him. Drakes mind was wandering, wondering if Evie has an inkling about his meeting with Riley and that was why she was providing him with a cold reception.

“Evie?” Stroking her arm, she didn’t respond- softly breathing he soon realised that she was asleep. Wrapping his arm around her body, he pulled her flush to him- kissing her on the shoulder, he let it linger there before taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I need you to know something... I’ve never felt this way before about anyone. Tonight you made me feel alive, finally thinking that I had a future with someone. Riley who? All those one night stands who? What we did is something I only ever thought would be a dream..please don’t shut me out. I think I’m falling in love with you Evangeline.”

******

I’m sorry, this wasn’t meant to be- we are friends. I can’t do this Drake, not whilst you’re still clearly in love with Riley. E x

For the last week, Drake had tried to rattle his brain around wondering why she would assume that he was still in love with Riley. There was no obvious affection towards Riley from his end, and she informed him that she just wanted to be friends. But Evie never gave him the chance to explain, instead she was gone in a flash when he woke up the morning after Vegas. Standing in the corner of the ballroom with Liam and Maxwell, Drake scrutinised the room hoping that Evie would attend. “Has anyone heard from Evie or Olivia?” Maxwell asked Liam concerned.

“Bastien said Olivia had things to attend to up in Lythikos. Hence why he’s acting all miserable. No one has heard from Evie as far as I’m aware.” Before anyone could respond, the doors opened.

Duchess Olivia Nevrakis and Duchess Evangeline Bruley

Of course Olivia knew where she was, Drake thought to himself- he wasn’t sure whether to be angry towards her or respect her for respecting her closest friends wishes. Gulping the remainder of the whiskey- he needed some Dutch courage. Ambling towards the two women, he bowed before giving them both a kiss on the cheek. Focusing his gaze towards Evie their looks towards each other provided a silent argument, Olivia excused herself- not wanting to be involved in the awkward situation.

“Your grace. I think you and I need some words....” Evie knew this day was coming, and so did Olivia. Ever since running away from Vegas leaving him in the hotel room- she regretted not talking to him like adults.

Frantically knocking on the door, Evie had hoped that her friend would be awake. Looking like she had been dragged through a hedge backwards- she didn’t care.

“Evie? Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I’ve got a flight to catch... but I was just wondering....”

“Hold on a sec... you’re coming back with us right? So why are you catching a flight?”

“I fucked up. I slept with Drake. But I think he slept with Riley, he smelt of her and was wearing her lipstick. Liam came to my room asking to sleep with me. I’ve let myself go. I’m such an idiot. I need time alone. Can I stay at your Duchy? Please Liv.”

“You slept with Drake?” Bastien asked, interrupting the two girls conversation. Drake was like a son to him, and Drake confessed to him his true feelings. The guard didn’t want her to break Drakes heart, but he could predict that their relationship was always going to be difficult- this just proving it.

“Of course she did. You have a Duchy of your own if you haven’t forgotten? Just go home Evie.”

“I can’t. Everyone will know where I am. I need time away from them all. Please Liv. We’re best friends.”

“And I suppose I have to lie for you too?” Quirking her eyebrow, she knew that this was a rhetorical question not requiring an answer. Looking at Bastien the pair agreed to lie for her, but if questions were thrown at them constantly they didn’t know how longer they could keep her whereabouts hidden.

Just wishing that the ground could suffocate her- swallow her whole, as her heart began to hammer looking at him. Feeling guilty for leaving him alone, she was surprised that he could even look at her.

“You talk about me going awol... where have you been your grace? I think I’m owed some type of explanation.”

“This isn’t all about you Drake. I left you a note.”

“A shitty little note Evie! What the fuck... I’m not in love with Riley. Why couldn’t you just fucking talk to me? Why did you just fuck off and leave me? At least Riley never did that to me...” Turning around she didn’t want him to see her cry, she knew he said that out of spite but it still hurt.

“Because that’s what I do best Drake. I run away to boarding school, I come back. I run away to university, I come back. I ran away, and I came back. And I’m going to do it again.”

“Why did you turn Liam down in Vegas?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Men talk. Riley came to warn me about what he was planning.”

“Of course she did! And I’m thrilled that I’m court gossip, you all make me sick.” Thinking back to the reasoning behind her parents death- the trigger point was being court gossip for years.

“She wanted me to fuck her...”

“Go and do it, don’t ever talk to me again. Any of you. Or better so whisper behind my back as you’ve already been doing....” Wiping her tears, she walked away from the situation; not wanting to cause anymore trouble. Drake hesitated as first, wondering what the best move to make was; to follow her, or to just remain pining after her.

She wanted me to fuck her but I said no because I wanted to be with you.

“Leave her. Don’t make the situation worse.” Olivia placed a comforting hand on his shoulder much to his surprise. Scrutinising her, he wondered when the infamous dagger was going to make an appearance.

“Why are you being nice?”

“Because you two morons are obviously falling in love with each other. I know she didn’t sleep with Liam, and I know that you didn’t sleep with Riley. However I do know that you returned to Evie’s room with a lipstick mark and was smelling all like Riley. Evie has got trust issues, you wouldn’t know about the reasoning why but she only gives her heart away to men who she truly believes she likes. One man messed that up for her, so when you returned late her natural instinct thought you’d hurt her too.”

“I’d never hurt her Liv.”

“Maybe not, but with your track record of never being in a long term relationship, and having feelings for your best friends girl, past or not- she is going to be feeling this way. I always knew you liked Evie, your confession to Bastien just confirmed it.”

“What do I do? She won’t even listen to me, she’s so stubborn and frustrating and....”

“And Mr Walker is in love, and asking me for advise? Just both of you chill out for a while. When Riley begins the lantern send off, maybe try and talk to her then.”

******

Everyone gathered around, listening to the new Duchess and soon to be Queen give a speech regarding her Duchy, people and the festival. Evie joined Olivia, apologising for her absence.

People of Valtoria it is my great honor to be here with you tonight...

“What are you going to do with your lantern Duchess Evangeline.” Olivia whispered as Riley continued her speech.

“Same as you Duchess Olivia, spark it up then disappear. Do what I do best.” She smiled at her best friend.

“You know what I mean.. what are you letting go of and what do you wish for?”

“I’m letting go of Cordonia, and I wish to not have some bullshit story from you dragging me back.” Drake overheard what she said, shaking his head at Olivia he stormed off with Liam and the men following him.

“Oh I’d have thought that you’d be letting go of this stubbornness and wishing to be happy - with someone like Drake.”

“What happened in Vegas was a mistake.” A fantastic mistake, I can’t have my heart broken though.

“Of course it was, you’re both just pushing each other away. Wake up Evie, what you’ve both been looking for has been here the whole time.”

“Hey, is everything okay?” Riley joined the two of them,already predicting the awkwardness- she decided now was the right time to confess to Evie what happened in Vegas- adding more fuel to the fire.

“Yes.” They both snapped in unison.

“Riley I’d like to thank you for inviting me but I have to leave. I hope the festival is successful.”

“Evie don’t go, I’d like to talk to you.”

“That’s not necessary, just ring me or something.”

“Please Evie...” Biting her lip, considering her options- she knew she couldn’t refuse the future Queen. Sooner I talk to her, sooner I can leave.

****

“So I spoke to Drake in Vegas...”

“I’ll always love you Drake, I just want closure...”

“If that’s all you have to say Brooks, you could have text me that. The feelings you apparently had towards me was probably because Liam couldn’t be there for you. I understand that now Ri, I’m happy for you both.” Continuing to walk forward towards his room, he wasn’t up for a debate.

“You look at her like you looked at me. Do you love her Drake?” Gulping, he knew it could possibly hurt her with their history- but it was only fair.

“Riley, I care for Evie a lot. I always have done. Before you and Hana were in the picture we were all close, you thought Olivia was bad- you should have seen team Elivia.” Both of them laughing, Riley had wished that she had known them all in the past.

“Drake, if you love her you need to tell her. Liam... he...” Pausing she didn’t want to cause an argument or a fight between the two men, but she respected Drake as a friend and believed he deserved the truth.

“What?”

“Liam suggested us having a one night stand with the two of you. I don’t want that, and I know that neither of you do. You need to go back to Evie, you are a good man marshmallow- you deserve to be happy.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek- and gave him a longing hug. Drake smiled at her as she left, not knowing what to think about Liam’s actions. Urgently running to his room, he couldn’t get out as quickly as he wanted to- Maxwell was persistent asking questions about his friends new sex life.

“He loves you Evie, I see the way he looks at you, as everyone does - he used to look at me like that, but not as adoring.”

“No offence Riley, but you and I are completely different. I don’t want to be heartbroken, I’m not known as the court whore unlike you. I’m best off staying single and keeping my friendships as they have been since we were younger.” Evie took a deep breath regretting referring Riley as the court whore, noticing Tariq and Neville with some strangers she began to panic. “I’m sorry Riley. I didn’t mean that. Why is Tariq and Neville here... and who are they?”

“I ... I don’t know. Going back on to Drake, he loves you but he won’t admit it. All I did was hug him and kiss him on the cheek. That was it Evie, I hope you believe me.”

“Get out of here now, go and find Liam and Bastien.” Is she even listening to me? Tariq and Neville aren’t issues.

“This is my Duchy! I’m not going anywhere.” Fucking hell Riley, maybe you and I are similar- both stubborn. Discretely sending a text to Liam, she hoped he would read it as soon as possible.

SOS TARIQ AND NEVILLE AND UNKNOWN PEOPLE ARE HERE- BRING THE GUARDS OUTSIDE ASAP

“Please Riley, I don’t trust either of them and whoever they are with....”

“Duchess Riley, Duchess Evangeline.”

“Hello gentlemen, I believe that you haven’t been invited to this event.” Tariq pulled Riley into his embrace, with a tight grip- seeing her struggle, Evie pulled him away from her. Fluttering her eyelashes at the man, she provided a fake smile- knowing that he probably could see straight through her but it was worth a risk.

“Tariq why don’t you let Riley go back to the festival, you and I can have a walk with Neville. I’m sure she needs to mingle as the host of tonight’s event.” Tariq gathered the men together, whilst whispering- smirking at the two duchesses.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving your fucking ass. And my country’s heir! Go to Liam now!”

“Like old times then Evie.” Evie grimaced as Tariq placed a longing kiss on her cheek, whilst wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Don’t fucking push it Tariq! A walk doesn’t mean sex... or rape in your case.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way Evie, we were all close back in the day. I mean you are the only woman that has rejected Liam, so you must have feelings for someone else- that could be me.”

“That is because I love him as a friend.”

“Like you both love Drake Walker too? That disgusting commoner.” Neville interrupted, scowling at Evie and Riley.

“They are both better men then you two will ever be.” Riley snapped, defending Drake- as well them both.

“What the fuck are you still doing here? You are due to be Queen- you have to mingle and look after yourself... I can handle this. I’m just a Duchess.”

“No Evie.” Before Riley could move or react, Neville pushed her towards the two strangers. Fucking hell, do I talk to a brick wall? Evie muttered to herself.

“Get the fuck off her!” Evie ran straight into Neville knocking him to the floor, using techniques that the Nevrakis’s taught her and Olivia as young girls- before pushing Riley out of the way. “Get help Riley! Or so help me I’ll kill you myself.”

*****

Bastien carried Evie into the ballroom, laying her down gently on the couch. Insisting that someone could see to her injuries whilst he and the other guards searched for Tariq, Neville and the men. Olivia noticed her best friend in a fragile way- before seeing to her she ushered all the nobles out of the room. “The festival is over for tonight, I’m sure Duchess Riley will thank you all for attending at a later date.”

“What the fuck happened Riley? Evie?”

“Those arseholes grabbed her.” Evie shouted as she held onto her ribs, every breath she took, every word she spoke the pain became more excruciating. “Treason on the future Queen... and....”

“And Evie saved my life.” And your baby’s life you dipshit.

“You need to go to hospital Evie.”

“I’m fine Max. They’ve given me the Botox look for free...” Trying to be funny even in this situation, pouting her now swollen lips- the friends didn’t know whether to laugh at her ‘joke’ or not.

“If Evie stood in why have you got mud all down you Riley?”

“She pushed me, not purposely. I’m fine Liam. Where’s Drake?”

“Fuck Drake. I’m fed up of you lying to everyone Riley. Take Liam upstairs and tell him the truth. I warned you that you needed more security. But do you listen? Do you fuck! Maybe now you may listen to me, because I’m not allowing you to play damsel in distress in my books anymore.”

Everyone turned to Riley, wondering what Evie was referring to. All assuming that she was playing down what they did to her.

“I’m going to go to my room if that’s okay everyone. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’ll escort you up Evie, Maxwell get her some painkillers and ice in her room. Riley I’ll see you in your master bedroom.”

“I’m fine Liam.”

“I insist, I need to talk about what happened and who was involved then we can get justice for you both.”

*****

Assisting her to stand up, Liam held Evie protectively and gently- before walking upstairs. It took them a while, but they eventually arrived at her room.

“So what happened?”

“Maybe if you read your text nothing would have happened- your Majesty.” Empathising his title, Liam felt guilty- knowing that the situation could have been more worse, or even fatal.

Riley ran into the ballroom, scrutinising it- Shaking, looking for her fiancé.

“Liam!”

“What’s up? Are you okay?” Holding her protectively, she began to hyperventilate- unable to prevent herself from shaking.

“It’s.... it’s... Evie...”

“She text me but I ignored it. I assumed it wasn’t important?”

“She’s hurt. She probably text you about that.... she needs help but wouldn’t allow me to help her.” Liam checked his phone, SOS- fuck. Insisting that Olivia, Maxwell and Hana stayed with Riley, whilst he and Bastien went to find Evie- he didn’t know what to expect. Arriving outside they saw her cowering on the floor, covered in blood and mud.

“Ev... Evie? What happened?” Wiping the fresh blood off her face, her lip began trembling- flashblacks of the night will forever haunt her. Bastien scooped her up, and spoke softly to her as the walked back towards the estate.

“Evie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what I was thinking. I just believed that you was texting me to berate me about my behaviour in Vegas. Do you want me to help you get undressed? Or I could get someone else to assist you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Watching her struggle, was frustrating for him- he just wanted to help her as a friend but didn’t want to force the issue. Eventually she was undressed and dressed in her nightwear.

“What did you mean when you asked Riley to tell me the truth? Why would you sacrifice yourself?”

“You really need to talk to her, it’s not my place to say it. I was angry when it slipped out.”

“Can you not tell me a part of it?”

“It was about saving my country’s future. That’s all I’m saying Liam.”

“Because she’s going to be Queen?”

“Something like that.” Maxwell arrived with painkillers and ice, immediately wrapping the ice in a towel he pressed gently on his friend’s lips, cheek and finally ribs after asking which parts of her body was hurting.

“I’m just going to find Drake, she needs someone to stay with her tonight. If she asks I’ve gone to find Bastien.” Liam whispered to Max, who nodded in response knowing that she would refuse any help- but possibly Drake could comfort her in ways that no one else could.

*****

“Drake, it’s Liam. Please open the door.”

“Li... what’s up? I’m tired.”

“It’s Evie... listen I know what I did in Vegas was unacceptable, but that girl needs you. People insist that she loves you even if she won’t admit it, like you.”

“Liam, if you can’t have her no one can. So whatever the issue is, I’m sure you can see to it.” Sipping the whiskey, Liam shook his head- disappointed in his friends lack of empathy.

“Drake she’s hurt! This isn’t about me and her. You know how I feel about her, I will always love her. But if you can love her, and make her happy, I’m thrilled for the two of you.”

“What do you mean she’s hurt? Where is she?”

“She’s in her room.... Tariq....” Drake didn’t give Liam the opportunity to finish that sentence- anger immediately ran through his veins. Forgetting that he was in only his boxers he really didn’t care- if Evie needed him he would be there in a flash, if she didn’t want him there he would probably ignore her and stay anyway. Storming through the door, he paused as he realised that she was hurt - beyond words.

“Evie?”

“Dr- Drake?”

“Maxwell!” Maxwell shouted enthusiastically attempting to cheer the atmosphere up. Pushing Maxwell away, she covered her injuries up with her hand as best as she could- not wanting Drake to see her in this way.

“What has he done to you?” Kneeling down in front of her, he held her hand attentively. A tear creeped from his eye, unable to stay strong- feeling weak, he needed to get his act together.

“I fear what I did to them back...I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that Evie. Liam could barely hold you walking up here. I still think you should go to hospital for a check up.”

“Max I’m fine. Please. Just check on Riley with Liam.”

“If you need anything let us know. I promise to read my texts this time.” Both Liam and Maxwell kissed her gently on the cheek- not wanting to hurt her, on their way out they tapped Drake on his bare shoulder- both providing soft smiles.

“You stink of whiskey...”

“You should know that by now... or have you been living under a rock all this time?”

“I must have been... I’ve been oblivious about other things surrounding me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. Have you brought that whiskey with you? It would probably be a better pain killer than these.”

“Does it look like I’ve brought it? I’ve forgotten my clothes. Am I hiding it in my boxers?”

“Don’t make me laugh Drake, it hurts. It does look like you’ve got something down there.. but it’s not in the shape of a whiskey bottle.” Blushing, she knew her poor flirting skills were a slight embarrassment. If he was to question it she at least had the excuse of suffering a head injury.

“You know exactly what’s down there Duchess Evangeline... we’ve both missed you.”

“Drake... I... I’m sorry for leaving you in Vegas. I had Liam wanting to sleep with me, then you didn’t come back and he said that Riley was going to do the same with you... when you came back, I didn’t smell that usual whiskey scent- I smelt her. I was jealous. I should have just spoken to you, I have issues with trust.”

“I should have spoken to you too... why did you protect Riley tonight if you believed she did that with me?”

“I was protecting my future Queen and the crown prince or princess.”

“She’s pregnant?”

“She hasn’t told Liam, I figured it out. I gave her lemonade, said if anyone asked it had vodka in it. Liam asked me to tell him but I couldn’t, it’s not my business - so please don’t tell him.”

“I won’t tell him. He’s going to be thrilled. Do you need me to do anything for you whilst I’m here?”

“I’m fine, I’m just going to sleep the pain off- hopefully.” Drake didn’t respond, instead he fluffed the pillows- hoping she could get comfy in bed. “Drake? You didn’t have to do that.”

“Didn’t need to, but I want to. Are you going to get in? Then I can readjust the position of them if you need me to.” Following his orders, she eventually was in bed- using a stoic expression she tried to hide the pain that she was feeling. “Are you comfortable your grace?”

“Yes. Thank you, but...”

“But?”

“I can defend myself.. but can you stay with me until I go to sleep. I’d feel more safe.” Agreeing, he hoped that he could control his cock- this wasn’t the time to want to be sexual. Sliding next to her, he shuddered immediately.

“Fuck, you’re cold.”

“Can you keep me warm then Mr Walker?” She asked in a seductive manner, turning her face towards him. She rubbed her fingers along his bare chest, as her head slowly rested on him. The bedding was thick and soft like a cloud- but feeling him next to her made her feel warm instantly as if she was surrounded by lava. When they finally held each other in a warm, tender loving hug; their chests rising, their breathing in unison- the ‘warm blood’ that they could feel whilst in each others embrace made them both feel content.

“Evangeline Bruley, I love you.” Her eyes widened at this impromptu confession.

“How can you be sure? We’re just friends, friends that have shared a bed- twice now. I can’t say....” Caressing her cheek gently, he moved from the side of her and straddled her- making sure to not lean on her too hard. Kissing her cheek and placing a loving kiss on her swollen lip- the pain she felt vanished for a slight moment.

“I don’t want you to say it back. I think I’ve been in love with you since we were children, remember when we was like six or something and I shared my fruit with you? I’d never share my food with anyone.” Thinking back she laughed in her mind, he was so sweet that day from her memory.

“And now it’s whiskey that you won’t want to share...”

“I’d share with you. Lina, if you ever decide to love me back- I don’t want you to tell me until you are ready. I just had to tell you, I don’t know what I’d have done if they had hurt you anymore than they have done. If I see Tariq and Neville again, I’ll kill them with my bare hands- if you’ll allow me to I’m going to protect you for the rest of my life - whether that’s as friends...”

“Or more than friends?”

******

A few hours after the incident, Bastien made his way up to the master bedroom- Olivia is going to quite potentially kill me for being this late. Knocking on the door, he hated disturbing the king at such a late time.

“Sir? I’m sorry it’s late, but I thought you’d like an update regarding the men involved in Duchess Evangeline’s attack.”

“Come in Bast, Riley’s asleep. Scotch?”

“No thank you. Sir, we found two bodies- and have the suspects in for questioning.”

“Two bodies?” Liam became nervous, his hand began to shake uncontrollably- slowly losing his usual stoic expression.

#trr #trr choices #trr fanfic #drake x evie #drake x mc #drake walker #evangeline bruley #trr we belong #liam rhys #riley brooks #maxwell beaumont #duchess olivia

[jadelotusflower]

Fic: He Will Not Encumber Me (Han, Luke, OT era)

Luke gets drunk - Han cleans up the mess.

On A03 or under the cut

There were two things the Rebels did well, in Han Solo’s opinion. The first was hail a loss as a victory simply because it was not annihilation, and the second was to keep a well stocked bar in every officer’s mess. There was of course an obvious correlation between the two. 

It had been another brutal, demoralising loss for the Alliance, and Han wasn’t sure how many of those they had left in them. Yet what was left of the rebels celebrated because there was still a rebellion to be fought and therefore, still hope.

The embodiment of that hope was surrounded by a throng of fellow pilots, being hailed and toasted, fresh drinks being pressed into his hand the moment he finished the last one. Han had arrived late and took up his usual spot at the bar sipping a glass of Corellian whiskey, not quite ready to celebrate yet another brush with death. 

Of course, he didn’t blame the kid; he’d been promoted after all, and deserved at least one night to enjoy it with a drink - or fifteen. Han noted with amusement the wide grin that didn’t once falter, the blearly, unfocused look to the eyes, the slightly delayed reactions, and every now and then, distinct giggling. 

The newly minted Commander Skywalker was drunk. 

That in and of itself should not seem unusual, but it was rare to see Luke in such a state. Han remembered the first time he’d seen Luke drink alcohol, in those heady few hours after the medal ceremony on Yavin but before the evacuation. The ale had been flowing free then too, but while Luke had consumed as much as any of them, it hadn’t seemed to affect him in the same way, or at least not as quickly. 

He’d expected to be entertained by a fresh-off-the-farm boy scout giddy on victory and his first taste of real whiskey. But while his new friend and fellow survivor Antilles had slumped down onto the bar, laughing softly to himself and still clutching his glass, Luke had been perched happily on the stool beside him ordering another. 

“You drank in the Mos Eisley Cantina right?” Luke had said when Han had questioned him. 

“Yeah,” he’d confirmed, and made a face. “I didn’t think it was legal to sell distilled engine grease.”

“It’s Tatooine,” Luke had laughed darkly. “It’s only illegal if the Hutts don’t like it. But we have a saying too - if you can ferment it or distill it, you can drink it.”

“Whether you live to drink it again is not the barkeep’s problem I guess.”

“In Mos Eisley, sure - in Anchorhead they relied on repeat business,” Luke told him with a shrug. “But it was no less potent, there was a sill out the back using whatever desert plants we could get our hands on.”

“Tatooine moonshine, huh?” Han had lifted his glass in salute. “I’m impressed kid.”

But Luke’s tolerance for alcohol seemed to go beyond a familiarity with the strong stuff - of course there was also his metabolism that Han liked to joke was faster than the Falcon on the Kessel Run. He’d once seen the kid put away three dozen spiced ribenes (with a side order of tomo-slaw), chase them with a basket of deep fried tubers and still have room for half a sic-six layer cake. 

He won every drinking game he was challenged to for a year after joining the Rebellion, which always ended up with his opponent either slumped on the floor, vomiting into a trash can, or on one ignoble occasion, in the medward getting their stomach pumped. They’d all been given a week’s latrine duty after that, and drinking games expressly banned. 

Of course, the Alliance couldn’t police what happened planetside, and more than once when they’d been in need of some quick funds Han had tried to persuade him to invite challenge in the local bar. Luke had always refused, but had eventually told him the reason in that way of his - half pride, half humility.

“It’s the Force Han,” he’d said. “If I concentrate, I can feel the alcohol in my bloodstream, push it along and make it metabolise quickly.”

“The Force.” Han had been unconvinced. “Okay then.”

“I’m serious, Han. I think I’ve been doing it unconsciously all my life, but now I can control it.”

“Well kid,” Han had slapped his shoulder, and grinned. “Finally an upside to this Jedi business! So let’s pick a mark and we’ll have the credits for the parts we need by morning.”

Luke had shaken his head and sighed in exasperation. “Don’t you see, it gives me an advantage. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Fair would be me enjoying a Corellian sunset with a beautiful woman and surrounded by piles of credits, not on this junk planet with you scrounging for spare parts.” Han threw up his hands. “No one in this joint is playing fair - the barkeep’s watering down the whiskey, the sabacc dealer’s got cards up his sleeve, even that slot machine on the wall is rigged. Everyone’s a cheat, you just gotta be the best one.”

“Not me.” Luke was resolute, and while Han secretly admired his firm moral stance, in reality it just made things that much harder for them. 

They’d made it off the planet eventually, but Han had never questioned Luke’s alcohol tolerance again. 

Which was why the scene before him was so strange. Han watched Luke closely for a few more minutes, trying to determine if it was artifice. But when Luke knocked over a decanter and began apologising profusely to a potted plant rather than the bartender, he decided it couldn’t be. 

There was only one explanation left - that Luke was drunk because he wanted to be. 

Han wasn’t sure if he was relieved the kid was giving himself a much needed release, or deeply concerned that he was seeking a desperate escape. He sidled his way over to the throng surrounding Luke, hovering on the outskirts of the pilot pack. 

Wedge Antilles clinked a fork against the side of his glass and announced he was going to make a speech. Oddly, the young pilot always kept a fork on his person, and when Han had once called it weird, Wedge had given him a wry look. 

“What’s weird is putting something in your mouth that’s had a thousand other tongues on it,” he’d said, and pointed his fork at him. “Think about it.”

“No thanks,” Han had said politely, avoiding the low hanging fruit of the unintended double entendre. Others hadn’t his restraint, and since then the fork in question, and Wedge’s penchant for a clean utensil (double entendre absolutely intended) had been the source of much fun. 

“Alright Antilles,” called another pilot Han couldn’t remember the name of. “Stop banging it about!”

“Yeah, keep that thing sheathed,” yet another rejoined. “There are minors present!” He put his arm around a colleague who Han knew was of age, but had a boyish face that had earned him the nickname Baby. They all had little names for each other outside their call signs, which could change from mission to mission and through movement between squadrons. Luke had, for obvious reasons after Yavin, been given the name Starkiller.

“Oh kriff off the lot of you,” Wedge made a rude gesture, but was smiling, unoffended.  “I’m going to make my speech.”

He made quite a show of clearing his throat until they were all listening. “To Luke,” he raised his glass, “or should I say, Sir.” He gave a little mock curtsy and no one laughed harder than the man himself.

“I remember the first time I met Luke,” he reminisced. “When he told me quite nonchalantly that his favourite pastime on Tatooine was shooting at desert rats, and I thought this guy is in for a rude awakening once he actually gets in a proper ship. Seriously, Luke,” Wedge wagged a finger at him. “There’s no rats in space.”

“Says you,” Luke laughed. “The Executor’s full of them!”

“But much to my surprise,” Wedge continued, “the Empire’s most dangerous weapon blew up like many a mangry rodent before it, thanks to my friend the Starkiller. Since then there’s no one else I’d rather fly alongside, even if I now have to call him Sir for the privilege.” 

Wedge gave him a lazy salute and raised his glass. “To Commander Skywalker!”

“Commander Skywalker!” the cheer went through the room, and Wedge clapped Luke on the shoulder as they downed their ales at a rapid pace. The former finished first, wiping his mouth and banging his empty glass down on the bar.

“Okay, enough speeches,” he threw his hands up in the air. “Let’s dance!”

Han was content to leave them to it, leaning against the bar and savoring his whiskey. It was good to see Luke let loose a bit - the poor kid rarely got the chance since between his obligations to the Rebellion and trying to train himself to be a Jedi, Han didn’t know when Luke had time to sleep, let alone have fun. Now he’d been promoted to command, another burden he seemed happy to take upon himself without thought of the consequences. 

He’d had seen it too many times among pilots and revolutionaries - they shone bright and burned out quickly, taking on more responsibility, more risk, until their luck ran out. But there was no reasoning with the kid - Han had tried, and Leia was no help, she was exactly the same way. So he had to content himself with keeping close, watching over Luke, ready to pull him back from the brink when he strayed too close.

Han sighed as he signalled to the barkeep for another drink. How he’d become mother hen to these rag-tag rebels, he didn’t know. But there is was. 

Aggressive rock music blared over the speakers, and Han watched in amusement Luke banging his head along in time with the heavy drum beats, mouthing the words and moving his feet with surprising rhythm. It was one of those anti-Imperial anthems, played in many an underground club to whip people into a rebellious frenzy, and a popular choice among the young pilots looking to offload some post-battle energy. 

Well, the other popular choice, Han smirked as he saw a few pilots pair up and scoot off to celebrate surviving another day. A few hopefuls sidled up to Luke, and while he danced and laughed and shared a drink with them, one by one they gave up as they realised he wasn’t the one-night stand type. He'd learned the hard way early on; his mission with Nakari Kalen had been the beginnings of a sweet romance until it had ended in tragedy, and the other brief relationships he'd observed Luke have had seemed to have made him battle-shy. After the losses that day, Han didn't blame him. 

Eventually the revelry died down - Wedge passed out on the lounge snoring loudly, and a few others sprawled out less comfortably on the floor. But Luke had held out, and stumbled over to Han at the bar with a boozy grin.

“What’re drinking?” Luke asked, reaching for the still mostly full bottle Han had slowly been working on.

“Something too expensive to waste on someone already drunk.” Han pulled the bottle out of his reach.

Luke laughed. “Aw, come on Han.”

“I think you’ve had enough anyway,” Han stowed the whiskey behind the bar, counting that Luke no longer had the physical dexterity to reach over it. “I’m cutting you off.”

“You can’t boss me around anymore, Han.” Luke leaned heavily on the bar.  “I’m a Commander now - I outrank you.”

“Is that so?” Han was about to remind him that his title of Captain was because of his ship, not a rank in the Alliance military, but it there was little point.  

“Yeah, it’s so.” Luke poked him in the chest. “I can just say, Captain Solo, fetch me a hydrospanner, or Captain Solo, stop flirting so outrageously with Leia, and you have to comply.”

Han chuckled to himself and patted Luke on the shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how it works, kid.”

“And you don’t get to call me kid anymore.” Luke brushed him away.

“Alright, Commander,” Han humoured him. “Tell you what. You walk from one side of this room to the other unaided and you can have as many more drinks as you want."

Luke stared at him for a few long moments, glanced at the large transparisteel window that made up one wall, and the exit located at the other. He straightened and cleared his throat, but then closed his eyes as if the room was spinning. 

“Fine.” He pouted and leaned back against the bar. “Spoilspot.”

“Hey, you’re the Starkiller,” Han joked, “I’m the Fun Killer.”

Luke laughed more than even Han felt the remark warranted. “You’re funny,” he slurred, and laughed again. “Do you know you’re funny?” 

“Yeah, I know.” He surveyed the room, not for the first time noting a significant absence. “Leia wasn’t here tonight.”

Luke shrugged. “Strategy meetings. After today, I guess they have a lot to talk about.”

“What, and leaving out the exalted Commander Skywalker?” 

“I’m excepted...expected tomorrow.”

Han eyed him, thinking it would take a miracle for Luke to have sobered up by then. He leaned over the bar and poured a glass of water from the tap, forcing it into the kid’s hand.

“She did come by and congratulate me,” Luke said as he took a sip. “Kissed me too.”

“What?” Han felt a traitorous tug in his heart.

“Here.” Luke pointed to his cheek, and Han was disturbed by how much he was relieved. Their shared affection for Leia was something they never talked about, and Han could barely acknowledge he had affection for Leia, even to himself. But Luke was drunk, and therefore more likely to be more forthcoming than he usually was, and less likely to remember it.

“So, a kiss huh?” Han knew it was unscrupulous, but had to know. “And did you reciprocate?”

Luke blinked at him. “She didn’t get promoted.”

Han ran a hand over his face and laughed. “Okay, kid. But you like her right?”

“Of course, she’s my friend.”

It was like talking to a toddler. “No, I mean more than that,” he pressed, rethinking his approach. “For example, what do you feel, when you look at her?”

Luke furrowed his brow and it took him several moments to respond, as if he’d never had to put his feelings into words before. 

“I feel...kinship.”

Han thought it was an odd word to describe attraction, and for the first time wondered whether Luke’s feelings for Leia were more platonic than he’d assumed. He’d certainly never pursued her, or made any kind of romantic overture, seemingly content with their friendship as it was. On the other hand, Han had never made any overtures either, although that was because he didn’t think he’d get the response he wanted, and then what he did have with her would be soured. 

“Why?” Luke asked him. “What do you feel when you look at her?”

Han cleared his throat. “Yeah, same as you. Kinship and all that.”

Luke narrowed his eyes and gave him one of those appraising stares that when sober made Han feel as if the kid was reading his thoughts, but didn’t have the same effect when Luke could barely stand upright. He just looked like he was squinting. 

“So Rogue Squadron huh?” Han changed to subject. “Good name.”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, thankfully distracted. “It seemed right.”

“From what they say around here that Jyn Erso was quite the dame.”

Luke nodded again, staring off into the middle distance. “I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately. Do you think it’s possible to miss people you never even met?”

“Never gave it much thought.”

“There was so much I wanted to ask them,” Luke sighed. “She wore a kyber crystal on a necklace, did you know that? I wonder if there was a Jedi in her family, something she could have told me about them. And they say Chirrut Imwe was a monk, guarding  knowledge of the Force at the temple on Jedha. I wish…”

“Yeah, but Luke.” Han touched his arm. “If they were still here, we wouldn’t be.”

“I know.” Luke blinked, his eyes wet. “They died so we could continue the fight. Like half the fleet today.”

“It’s what our lives have become,” Han sighed. “You know it was halfway through this little shindig I realised that other than you and Antilles, I didn’t know anyone’s real name.”

Luke looked at him ruefully. “You actually have to talk to people to learn their names you know.”

“Hmn.” Han swirled the whiskey in his glass. “You ever hear of Lernaean, kid?”

Luke shook his head.

“Vile water planet,” Han shuddered, thinking of his one and only visit, since no bounty could ever convince him to return. “They have some kind of ocean serpent there, living in the depths. You have the misfortune to come across one of ‘em, turn and run.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it can’t be killed,” Han told him putting down his glass. “Cut off its head, and two grow in its place. Cut off those two, you got four to deal with, you get it?”

“Like us,” Luke nodded. “They can take out a cell of rebels, they can destroy half our fleet, but there will always be more of us.”

“No, kid,” Han said, taking him by the shoulders. “It’s not like you at all, that’s the point! Because the Empire kills a rebel, and there aren’t two to take his place. There’s just one less rebel to worry about, and one day there won’t be any.”

“How can you say that?” Luke shook him off. “More are joining our cause all the time!”

Han shook his head - he really was just a kid. “What do you think the casualties were today - five hundred maybe? You got a thousand new recruits lined up?” 

Luke’s lower lip trembled, and he took a shaky breath. “Why are you saying this Han?”

“I just want to know what your endgame is Luke,” Han pressed. “At what point do you pack it in, and say enough is enough?”

Luke raised his chin, looking up at Han with that zealous fire he had. “We don’t. We fight until we either win, or we die.”

“Simple as that?”

“Yeah.”

Han sighed again, and drowned the last of his whiskey. “And you wonder why I don’t bother to learn anyone’s name.”

“Well leave, if you think we’re such a lost cause.” Luke pushed at Han’s chest. “Go pay off Jabba and go back to whatever life you had before this. I don’t need you looking out for me.”

He pushed off the bar and clearly attempted to stride off to punctuate his point, but instead tripped over his own feet and went careering towards the floor. 

“It’s alright kid,” Han caught him by the arms and lifted him upright. “I got you.”

“Commander,” Luke murmured, and was then promptly sick in a potted plant.  

“Get command of your digestive system, and we’ll talk.” Han grasped a napkin off the bar and crouched down to hand it to Luke. 

“This is disgusting,” he moaned pitifully and wiped his mouth. 

“Welcome to the world of mere mortals.” Han gave him water so he could rinse out his mouth. “Come on.” He hauled Luke to his feet and lopped the kid’s arm around his shoulders to steady him.

“I’m never drinking again,” Luke groaned as Han helped him back his quarters and lay him on the bunk.

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.” Spying Luke’s lightsaber on the side table, Han moved it to a high shelf just in case. Seeing nothing else that could pose a danger - Luke kept his room depressingly clean - Han sat down on the bunk to unlace his boots.

“Maybe you’re right Han,” Luke said despondently. “Maybe this is a lost cause.”

“Ah, don’t listen to me.” Han decided to leave Luke’s socks on, and swung his feet up onto the bunk.

“I still have to fight,” Luke continued, staring at the ceiling. “Even if there’s only a fool’s hope.”

That’s exactly what it was, but Han held his tongue and patted Luke’s leg in acknowledgement.

“But you don’t have to,” Luke murmured, eyes fluttering closed. “I know this isn’t a comfortable life.”

“Yeah, well neither’s smuggling,” Han conceded. “Although the pay is better.”

Luke opened one eye. “When we met you were up to your eyes in debt to Jabba.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah but when I met an Imperial cruiser, I could drop the sprice shipment. Can’t shoot the Empire’s Most Wanted out the airlock,” he gave him a wink, “as much as I’d like to sometimes.”

Luke chuckled, eye closing again and head lolling to one side on the pillow. 

“I have to leave eventually though,” Han said softly. After all, he was still in hock to Jabba up to his eyeballs, and who knew how much longer it would be before the slug sent some goon looking to take payment in blood.

“Hnm.” Luke seemed to be drifting off, so Han pulled the blanket up over him and patted his shoulder. He located an empty rubbish bin and moved it to the side of the bunk for easy access should Luke wake up and need to be sick again, which based on the kids complexion was highly likely. A quick sweep of the room left him satisfied, and he made his way to the door.

“Han?” Luke muttered, and when Han turned back he seemed asleep, but must have been only nearly so.

“Yeah?”

“That water snake - anyone ever kill it?”

Han smiled, tapping his fingers against the doorframe. “Not yet,” he said. “Who knows, maybe you will.”

The door slid closed behind him, and Han headed down the corridor to his own quarters, thinking that if anyone could slay a monster like that, he’d bet on it being Luke. And maybe - just maybe - he'd be there to see it.

#star wars fic #ot era fanfic #han solo #luke skywalker #jadelotusflower: fic #star wars original trilogy #references to rogue one #reference to heir to the jedi #minor appearance by wedge antilles #wholesome content #he ain't heavy #he's my brother

[7-wonders]

As the World Falls Down

Summary: You’ve stood by Duncan through thick and thin, but when the true intention of the app he’s been developing is revealed, everything crashes down around you.

Word Count: 2253

A/N: Wow, lots of angst in this one. Hope you enjoy; feedback is always appreciated, whether it be in the form of comments or asks. If you feel so inclined, I would love if you would leave a like or reblog this. Thank you for taking the time to read!

///////////////////

Everything about the fateful day, that you will soon come to know as the day that everything changed, is just...odd. Not good, not bad, but odd. For starters, Duncan’s actually home when you wake up this morning. His arms are still wrapped tightly around you when your eyes open, and he’s placing soft kisses all over your face. You tilt your head up, smiling sleepily at him and gently scratching the stubble on his face.

“You’re still here? Did Washington shut down while I was asleep?” you ask quietly, not willing to disturb the comfortable silence of the morning.

“No, everything’s business as usual, as far as I’m aware.” Glancing at the clock on the wall, you notice that it’s already 9:00 a.m., which is unheard of for Duncan on a weekday. “Just...felt like working from home today.”

“Working from home? Okay, who are you and what have you done with my Duncan?” 

“I thought you would be more excited about this, considering your only classes today are online,” Duncan chuckles, rubbing circles on your upper arm with his thumb.

“No, no, I am, I promise. An unexpected day of having you to myself is a dream come true! I just haven’t known you to ever work from home before.”

That’s especially true with how hard Duncan’s been working on the Shepherd Foundation’s next biggest project, which you’ve started referring to as just ‘the app.’ The app, of course, is meant to be a new analytics app that will replace Politico in terms of tracking candidates and policies. Duncan’s nearly obsessed with getting everything perfect, including providing nearly to-the-second updates on Congressional votes, debates, and any sort of political news. It’s noble, what he’s doing, but you’re a little perplexed as to why this is such a big deal for the company. You had always been under the impression that a corporation’s R & D department was in charge of developing apps, not the person poised to take the helm when his mother steps down (which, most likely, won’t be until she dies).

“The app’s stalled, and I haven’t been focused on anything but that in so long, that I honestly have no clue what to do right now.”

“It’s stalled? Why?”

“Just...some problems with getting it online.” There’s more to the story, you’re sure, but Duncan distracts you by tangling his fingers through your hair and lightly pulling on it in the way that has your eyes fluttering. 

“It’ll all work out,” you reassure him half-heartedly, your voice breathy as you try not to melt from the small gesture.

“You know what would make me feel better?”

“Hmm?”

“If you would join me for a shower.”

“Well, I can’t say no to that.” Duncan picks you up in his arms, making you squeal and grasp onto him tightly. It may be a different start to the day, but it’s one that you don’t mind at all.

The rest of the day follows in much the same way after your thirty-minute shower (followed by fifteen minutes of mopping up all of the water that landed outside of the shower when Duncan had the bright idea to remove the shower head and attempt to get you off with it). Duncan’s extremely hands-on, holding your waist as you make a quick breakfast and making you sit on his lap while you both eat. You’re entrapped in his arms while you both catch up on the news, Duncan with his newspaper and you with your phone. He barely lets you out of his sight, following you around the penthouse apartment like a puppy whenever you get up to complete some task.

The affection that he’s showing you isn’t out of the ordinary, but it is pretty new. After the earth-shattering revelation that he was not his mother’s child, he was extremely lost and broken. He had nearly spiraled, and leaned heavily on you for comfort. You both agree that, were it not for you, Duncan wouldn’t have been able to go on. You were his rock, his reason to keep going even as his entire world changed. He still hadn’t been able to really talk to his mother, freezing every time he so much as looked at her when at the office. Still, he was slowly getting to a place where he could consider eventually sitting down and talking things out with her. 

He couldn’t imagine what would have happened had you not been in his life when he learned the truth about his parentage, and has tried to come up with any possible way to thank you for sticking with him and comforting him. Although you reassured him multiple times that he didn’t have to do anything and that was just what significant others did, you couldn’t stop the sweet little gifts from showing up on the bedside table every few days. Jewelry, books, flowers (oh, the flowers), and any other things that Duncan found that reminded him of you. His other way of thanking you, and your personal favorite way, is expressing how much he loves and appreciates you. 

You’ve picked up on the fact that Duncan’s so-called ‘love language’ is physical touch and words of affirmation throughout your relationship. He thrives when you tell him how much he means to you, and will absolutely bend to your every whim if you cling onto him. So, to have him holding you and telling you that he loves you and how important you are to him, is the norm lately. Today, though, it seems that he can’t go a full half hour without professing his love to you. He refuses to let go of you, always having a hand on some part of your body. He makes sure that you know just how central a figure in his life you are which, while nice to hear, is starting to concern you a bit. 

Is there some bad news that he’s waiting to tell you? Did his meeting with the president go wrong the other day? Although Duncan’s affectionate, this is a little excessive, even for him. It sets you on edge, and he can tell that you’re starting to question what he’s doing by the time dinner finishes and you’re both sitting curled up on the couch, a glass of wine and a glass of whiskey sitting on the elegant coffee table. 

“Is everything alright?” you finally ask, listening to the sounds of a regular D.C. evening outside your window. “You’ve just been...very touch-oriented today, like you did something wrong and you’re trying to make up for it.” The questions hang unspoken in the air: you still love me, right? You wouldn’t cheat on me?

“(Y/N), I would never do anything to harm you, physically or emotionally, and I haven’t.”

“But something is wrong?” You sit up, facing him now. His eyes shift around the room, looking from the kitchen, to the floor, to his alcohol, to you. He won’t, however, look you in the eyes. “Duncan,” you say firmly to spur him into speaking.

“Remember this morning, when I told you that production on the app has stalled?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “Well, there’s a reason for that.”

“What reason?” Your eyes narrow, heart suddenly thumping in your chest. “Did goddamn Seth fuck something up again, because if he did I swear to God I’m not listening when you tell me that I’m not allowed to beat his sorry-”

“No, it wasn’t Seth’s fault!” Duncan interrupts you, taking your hands in his. “Unfortunately, this time the blame lies solely on me.”

“What did you do?” your voice comes out a mere whisper, and you almost don’t want to know what he’s going to say.

“I--the Foundation is currently under investigation. The authorities believe that the app sources user information, including their location, without the user’s knowledge, in an attempt to sway elections.”

“That’s ridiculous, obviously that’s not true. That’s, like, a huge crime. I’m pretty sure that would be considered treason.” You stand up, Duncan standing with you since he refuses to let go of your hands. “This has to be some sort of attack on you and your family by the president. She’s getting so fucking out of control. I mean, I’ve been a little wary of her recent declarations, but sic-ing the FBI on you just because she’s enemies with your mom is absolutely batshit crazy.”

“(Y/N),” Duncan attempts to get your attention, but you continue your rambling without even looking at him. “(Y/N).” He grabs your chin with his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“You have to do something. Can’t you speak to Usher and have him tell President Underwood that the app would never do that?” Your eyes fill with tears at the thought of Duncan being vilified for this lie that the White House is perpetrating.

“(Y/N),” he sniffs, trying to compose himself before he speaks, “it’s true.”

When Duncan would tell you about the moment his mother confirmed his fears about not truly being a Shepherd, about how it felt as if the very ground shifted underneath him, you hadn’t been able to grasp how that felt. It wasn’t something that you were familiar with and, as far as you were aware, there were no secrets that you would encounter to cause faults in the Earth to move against one another in the way that Duncan had experienced. Now, though, you understand exactly what he means. You gasp loudly, mind refusing to understand what you’ve just been told as your knees buckle. Duncan moves his hands so that he’s gripping your arms, keeping you from collapsing to the ground. The room seems like it’s spinning around you and, although you’ve never experienced an earthquake before, you’re sure that this is what it feels like. 

“You’re lying, you--you wouldn’t do that. Duncan, you couldn’t do that, not when you know the consequences of that shit.”

“I’m so, so sorry, darling.”

“Stop, I don’t--I don’t want to hear this anymore. I don’t care how funny you think this is, this is the worst joke you’ve ever told.” You’re clutching your chest, gasping for air as you start to panic. 

This can’t be happening to him, not after all he’s been through. Out of all of the less-than-legal things Duncan’s done on behalf of his family, there’s no way that any of them would even conspire to commit treason. What will happen if Duncan gets arrested, or goes on trial? It’s too painful to even imagine what will happen if he gets sentenced to prison. You can’t think about life without Duncan. What is life if I can’t live it without the love of it?, you think dimly.

“I wish it was a joke, (Y/N), I really do. Listen, we’ve gotten word that the FBI is possibly going to make arrests. I don’t know if they’re going to arrest me, or what’s going to happen, but I wanted you to hear everything from me before you hear it from the media.”

“Do you realize that you can be put to death if you’re convicted of treason?” you hiss, eyes widening. “Jesus Christ, I don’t understand how this is happe-”

Time seems to slow, while also continuing at the same speed that it has been. You hear a single crash from outside before the front door is busted off of its’ hinges. A strong voice shouts “FBI,” and agents rush into the apartment with guns drawn. You shriek as they swarm the room, yelling at you and Duncan to put your hands in the air. You both comply, Duncan making sure he’s still able to touch your skin by standing close enough to you. His touch comforts you for only a moment, before he’s roughly yanked away from you by an agent.

“Duncan Shepherd, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason against the United States of America.” Duncan looks shocked, as if he didn’t know that the federal agents would arrest him in his apartment, in front of you. His hands are forced behind his back, and the agent goes to work at roughly clicking a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

“Duncan--,” you start, taking a step towards him before an agent is holding you back. “Let go of me!” Another agent stands in front of you, preventing you from breaking free and reaching Duncan.

“(Y/N), don’t worry, it’s going to be fine. Do whatever they ask of you, okay? I’ll try and get a hold of you as soon as I can, but just--call my mom, okay? She’ll know what to do.” Duncan’s voice breaks, and you futilely reach out a hand for him as they drag him towards the door. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.” Tears blur your vision as Duncan disappears around the door, the agent releasing you when he’s been successfully removed.

You fall to your knees, your body not being able to support your weight right now. The FBI swarms the apartment, collecting anything they deem as evidence and marking off your home as a crime scene. An agent tries to ask you questions, but you just wrap your arms around your knees and pull them to your chest, staring at the ground. The apartment, filled with noise and people, has never felt emptier than it has in this moment as Duncan’s shoved into a police car and driven away from your home.

////////////

Tag List: @khaleesimel @sammyt @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @langdonslove @heda-mikaelson @readsalot73 @jimmlangdon @sebastianshoe @girlycakepops @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @pastel-cloudz @nana15774 @queencocoakimmie @lichellaw @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @dolceandchalamet @dandycandy75 @brieababy @everything-is-awesomesauce @ccodyfern @divinelangdon @wroteclassicaly @lvngdvns @langdonsdemon @trelaney @starwlkers @hexqueensupreme @hecohansen31

#Duncan Shepherd #duncan shepherd imagines #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd x reader #house of cards #house of cards imagine #hoc #michael langdon

[ill-skillsgard]

The Offer - Henry Deaver x Mistress

Warning: 18+ brief mentions of sex/public teasing/cheating/etc.

Soooo here’s another Henry x mistress imagine that nobody asked for. And just so you all know, I will continue to use your prompts in these imagines as they fit the timeline I’m going for. So if you’ve sent an ask about this dirty cheating bastard, I haven’t ignored it! I just have this world unfolding in my brain and I have to make the pieces fit accordingly. Thanks for reading and, y’know... Not jumping down my throat about the content. Enjoy! PS, I wanna know who sent the original Henry and his mistress prompt. You have single-handedly ruined my life and I love you for it. 

Enjoy!

The drive to the next city over started out great. Henry had picked you up at your apartment building exactly when he said he would and smiled brightly as you came out trying to hide your own eager grin. His eyes followed you, entranced for a moment until he snapped out of his short-lived daze, whipped his seatbelt off and got out of the car so he could open the passenger side door for you. You went red in the cheeks when you realized what his intentions were and stood next to the running car. Trying to get a good look at him before he approached only made you seem like you were checking him out, and you were, and he bubbled inside knowing that your stare was on him.

"Henry, you don't have to open the door every time. I promise you won't lose any gentleman points if you just let me do it myself," you lightly chided.

"Non-sense. I'm picking you up for a date. I pick you up, open your door, walk beside you, pay for dinner and then hopefully by the end of the night, I'll get a kiss."

"You'll get a lot more with that attitude," you joked.

"I don't see the mystique in allowing you to do everything. Open your own door, get in while I'm still sitting, split dinner and whatnot... No. That's not how a man takes a woman out on a date."

"If you insist, Mr. Deaver."

You loved the way Henry fumbled with his bottom lip and tried not to act like you referring to him so formally turned him on. He probably heard that all day long from his employees and peers but never in a context such as the subtle ribbon of seduction you wove around the title. You gave it a lustrous ring, a potent flick in the groin that made him want to hate you for tainting such an everyday greeting. 

The drive drew out before you realized that Henry was taking you into the next town over. He didn't have to tell you why because you already understood his motivations. It was too risky for him to be seen with you in the city where so many people he might know had the chance to happen upon you. This he did not speak, but you were in silent agreement. The guilt you had been successfully suppressing so far was starting to leak out of the seams, threatening to bust out and flood your head with more than just a pang of liability. There was a monster of shame growing in you and you could feel it squirming already in its early stages. You could only imagine the size of Henry's own iniquitous beast; it must have sprouted legs by now.

Henry ordered whiskey and implored you to go nuts and order whatever you wanted regardless of the cost. The wine was brought to the table and you dove into your first glass with no hesitation. After he had had a thorough look around the restaurant, he settled into his seat, relaxed his shoulders, stretched his legs out under the table and reached one hand between the water cups and the centrepiece of shell white calla lilies until you threaded your fingers through his. The pads of your fingers rested on his knuckles and you smiled as he began stroking the web between your index and thumb.

His ring was off and you could only wonder whether he had been keeping it off or if he was trying to spare you the reminder again. You didn't want the answer as much as the question flapped around in your head like a bird caught in a flag. This was supposed to be a nice night— your first one together since Paris.

"What are your plans after dinner?" You asked.

Henry smirked, a weak scoff leaving him in the process. "You're already thinking about the end of our date, huh?"

"No, not like that. I just want to know what you're thinking."

Henry leaned in closer, tightening his grip on your hand and whispered, "Well, I was hoping to take a pretty lady back to my place."

"Your place?" Your whisper was rash with disbelief.

"Yes. The condo. It's officially all mine."

"I get to see where you live?"

Henry bobbed his head back and forth, weighing his words. "I'd hardly say that I live there. Most nights I'm in a hotel living out of a suitcase. But, yes. I'd like to take you there... If you would allow it."

You scrunched up your face jokingly. "I'll allow it."

"Great," his eyes sparkled as he raised your hand up to kiss your knuckles.

He only let go of your hand when your food arrived and he had properly thanked the server. You both ate and chatted about average topics, skirting around the fact that ninety percent of your exchanges as of late had been heavily laced with explicit details of how bad you both wanted to fuck each other. Was he ignoring that, or was he too much of a gentleman to bring it up in public?

Taking matters into your own hands, you slipped off your right shoe and lifted your leg up until you found his thigh with the ball of your stocking foot. Henry straightened in his seat, nearly choking on a piece of pasta. He grabbed his linen napkin to wipe at an invisible splotch of food at the corner of his mouth while you ran down the inseam of his pants and didn't stop until thigh met groin. 

"Insatiable woman," he whispered.

"Sexy man," you countered.

Henry looked down to see your painted toes encased in nylon, pressing at his groin until he ran the risk of becoming too aroused. He clamped one large hand around your foot, halting you from rubbing at him.

"Hey, now... I have to ask you something. Let's uh... Save the tickle time for home... Or the car," his tone went dreamy.

You gave him your best evil smirk and withdrew your foot only because the premise of him having a question to ask you temporarily stole your attention.

"What is it, Mr. Deaver?"

He shivered slightly, trying to shake off the butterflies hosting a grand waltz in his stomach. "I've been thinking about you lately."

"I certainly hope so," you giggled.

"Not like that. Well... Yes, like that but also in a more professional way."

You were intrigued. Unsure of what he meant, you sipped your wine and listened intently for him to continue. "I know you don't particularly enjoy your job and I can't stand the thought of how people treat you... So I was racking my brain trying to think of some solution. There's school, apprenticeships, night classes... And then I thought of something else."

Henry paused for you to answer but you were caught up in the anxiety of what he might say next. "I'm all ears!" You urged him on.

"My assistant is going on maternity leave soon..."

"Oh... My god."

"Don't jump yet... Just listen. She's going on maternity leave for a few months and I need to find someone to replace her. She's had no time to train a stand-in, so I've been charged with hiring somebody that I think would fit the slot."

"Henry..."

"Let me finish," he raised his hand to quiet you down. "Look... I know it's a dumb, stupid, idiotic idea but I can't think of anyone better to fill the position than you."

"I don't know the first thing about being an assistant," you claimed.

"You know your way around a computer, yes?"

"Of course."

"And you can work a cell phone, I've gathered. You can write, you know... And read. All qualifying traits," Henry chuckled. "It's really just a glorified secretary job. Only... You get to travel with me and... Book my hotels, flights, dinners, lunches... set up my appointments, take my calls when I'm busy."

"Henry, that is absolutely ludicrous."

"I know," his eyes brimmed, and for a moment he looked like a vibrant young man that had just fallen in love. "It's really stupid! But... God, I just want you around me and I don't want to think of you making half of the minimum wage at a job where people don't even thank you."

"But an assistant? That's really playing with fire."

"Look... You don't have to say yes or no just yet. Have some time to think about it. She's not leaving for another couple of weeks. And if you still hate the idea then I'll find you something else."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"I told you... I don't want you working in the café anymore. You're too good for that."

"What about—?"

"I'm taking care of everything."

"Maybe you should take care of your own business before you try taking care of mine," you looked down at his ringless hand.

"What do you think I'm in the process of doing?"

"I don't know," you admitted.

"As far as I'm concerned... We're separated. My business is my own. I can have dinner with whomever I want... Hire whomever I want. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Does she know that you're going around telling everyone that you're separated or is that just what you're saying to me?"

Henry withdrew into his seat, grimacing at you for the gentle accusation. It was to be expected. Your incredulity was not unwarranted and he knew that. With a sigh, he lifted his tumbler and sipped his whiskey slow.

"Nobody knows yet. It's not really something you can just casually bring up in the office."

"That's why we're in another city having dinner at a place that's nearly impossible to get a reservation for, isn't it? You haven't told anybody."

"Do I need to?"

"I guess not if you're still worried," you grumbled.

"Hey... Come on. This is all still very fresh. It's not like I'm going to parade through the streets telling people that my marriage failed and I've already fallen for somebody else."

The last part of his statement made your heart clench tightly in your chest. He had fallen for you. And now he wanted you by his side to oversee his day to day proceedings. It was a roundabout way of him saying something that he wasn't sure if he could say yet. Suddenly your skepticism faded and you chose to look at the endearing side of his offer.

"I hate you," you said with a wry smirk.

"If you hate me so much then why don't you put your foot back in my lap and try to get me hard again?"

"Yes, sir."

#henry x mistress #henry deaver fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction

[themarissaharrisxn]

remnants | self para

“Can you hear me? Marissa! Riss! Move your fingers if you can hear me.”. The voice was distant, quiet. It was a man, he sounded panicked and out of breath. Why couldn’t she move? “Riss, c’mon, what did you do?” Why did he sound like he was fading in and out? Why was it so dark? A light began flashing in the dark, up and down then side to side, really bright then really dull. What was happening? What had she done? 

“What can I say? It must be beginners luck,” Marissa smirked as the dealer dealt the third straight blackjack pair in a row. There were a few grumblings around the table as the dealer rolled over a 20, busting all players but her. She was sure she even heard one of them call her a bitch; how quaint. It was around ten in the evening, and Riss had already sunk a bottle of whiskey and several hundred dollars on the roulette tables. Blackjack was meant to be a game of pure luck, but if you learned enough about the game, there was always a way to beat Lady Luck. Although, tonight, she wasn’t even lying, Luck was just looking out for her.

Marissa saw Hayden come into work, and she couldn’t help but watch him for a while. He seemed different, as if there wasn’t as much weight on his shoulders anymore, but at the same time as if he was worse than ever. She thought back to the last time they spoke to how she threw a glass at him and slammed her door in his face. She had pushed him out of her life again. Why did she keep doing that? Pushing people away? It was like she wanted to be alone... Because if she was alone, she had an excuse. If she was alone, there became a reason to slip back into those delusions. She missed them. Missed her. Today was her birthday... They should have been here celebrating together.

“Are you playing, Ma’am? If not, there’s, um, there’s a queue waiting to join the table so--” The dealer swallowed nervously as he ran his fingers up and down the deck holder. Marissa looked to him then back at Hayden, then at the queue. She inhaled sharply before smiling at the dealer. “Sorry, no, no, I-- I think I’m done. Can only cheat luck for so long, can’t we?” Riss chuckled lightly as she stood up and brushed the wrinkles from her dress. “It’s been a pleasure,” she winked to the particularly attractive man on the other side of the table, picked up her chips, and left. 

Just leave. Stop drinking. Go home. Go to sleep. That’s what she told herself. It’s what she knew was the smart choice. But, hell, when the fuck did Marissa Harrison ever settle for the smart choices in life? She walked over to the bar, dropping her chips down on the counter hard enough to capture his attention. Her heart skipped a beat as he turned around from returning a bottle to the top shelf, her bottle, her whiskey. Her lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. She sighed. She wanted to just hug him, but he was at work, and after last time and by the look on his face, she wasn’t even sure he wanted her to. 

“What are you drinking, Marissa?” He asked, cold as ice as if she were just another customer. As if they didn’t go back years. As if nothing had ever happened between them. 

“W-- Whiskey,” she stuttered, as much of a forced smile as she could manage. “I have a tab here, just--” 

“I know. I’ll put it on the tab.”. He cut her off with a nod as he placed the glass in front of her and served her whiskey. The casino was anything but silent, but the silence between him and her was deafening. Why did she push him away again? Why was he being so cold? What was wrong with her? 

“Thank you,” she smiled, her lips parting once again to speak, but no words finding their way out. How are you? It wasn’t a hard question to ask, just ask it. Her grip around the glass was vice-like, any harder, and it threatened to break. She became lost in the murky brown liquor as she tried to piece together what to say, what to ask him, whether to see if he wanted to come over after he was done. Riss swallowed thickly. “Hay--” she breathed out as she looked up, but he wasn’t there. He was down the other end of the bar, serving another customer with a smile twice as wide as he’d given her. Her eyes welled, and knuckles turned white. Fuck him. Fuck this. Fuck all of this fucking shit, right? She knocked back the drink in one go and pushed the glass off the side of the bar, so it smashed all over his floor, ice, and glass shattering everywhere. Their eyes locked, and she stormed off. 

She’d done nothing wrong. This wasn’t her fault. He was the one that faked his own death. He was the one who caused this. Not her. Fuck him! As she approached the main doors, they were quickly opened for her by the bouncer, and waiting outside was the limo that ferried people from Labyrinth to Plan B. That was a bad idea, but fuck it, right? She was celebrating for two, after all. She got into the back of the car and was relieved to find it empty. “We’re not waiting for more people. Let’s go, Jeremy. Plan B,” Riss practically ordered the driver as she immediately poured herself a glass of champagne. 

The feeling of the moving car felt comforting, the physical reassurance that she was getting away from Hayden, from those problems and those emotions. But, the whole ordeal had sobered her and tonight, especially now, she was aiming for anything but sober. The ride to Plan B was only short, no longer than fifteen minutes in traffic, but in that time, Marissa had finished the bottle and after giving James a kiss on the cheek, walked into the club. 

The bass of the music coming through the speakers matched her heartbeat. Steady. Controlled. A topless dancer passed by her, a flirtatious smirk on her face as her eyes practically fucked her right then and there. Marissa turned and walked backward a few paces so she could watch her walk away, her tongue slowly licking over her bottom lip. Her eyes jumped up and clocked with the bartender, and she winked, mouthing ‘my usual’ before turning around and walking to the executive booth at the front of the main stage. 

The dancer that had been performing slowly walked off the stage, glancing back to Marissa before disappearing behind the curtain. In the few minutes between performances, a glass, a bucket of ice, and a bottle of her whiskey were brought over to her, her first glass poured out. The darkness of the club, the intensity of the music, the show that was being put on for her allowed her to leave her own reality behind, to get lost in everything. Then, out of the curtains came her favorite dancer, Denise. 

The blonde locked eyes with her as silver heels carried her down the runway, the white lingerie beaconing her angelic figure. The woman was everything she was attracted to, and on a day like today, Delilah’s birthday, it was exactly what she needed to get lost in. Marissa let her work the pole, eyes only ever removed from her body to top up her drink. After a while, the distance between them was too much, and so, with a smirk, Riss gave Denise the ‘come here’ gesture, mouthing the words for good measure. 

Denise walked down the stage stairs and up into her booth, hand reaching behind to her back and removing the small amount of fabric she was calling a bra. God, she was beautiful. She had always been so beautiful. She had missed her so much. “You look so good up there tonight, baby, but I know you already know that, don’t you?” Riss murmured as Denise straddled her lap, her eyes telling Marissa everything she wanted to do to her without the need for words. The blonde took Marissa’s hands and guided them over her body, letting out small moans and gasps as she danced for the investor. 

With each drink Riss took, with each dance Denise gave her, Riss lost herself more and more to the night, more and more to her mind. She took a shot, and then returned her attention to the stripper, only it wasn’t the stripper anymore. Riss almost choked on the liquor as it slipped down her throat. “Delilah?” She breathed out, eyes widening then narrowing as she realized how blurry her vision had become. Fuck, how much had she drunk? She looked to the bottle. Empty. She looked back to the blonde who seemed concerned, but not surprised. “D-- George, what--” Riss stuttered as she shook her head and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. It’s okay. It’s okay... Wait, why was she trying to push this away? Why was she trying to stop this? Why was she stopping it? She opened her eyes again. 

She was at home.

“Delilah?!” She called out, hoping that someone would answer, hoping that there was some explanation to how she was suddenly home. Had she blacked out and been brought back by Delilah. Where was she anyway? Riss stood up, instantly became dizzy and fell back down to the couch. Fuck, her head was spinning. She looked around and saw her phone. Thank God, maybe that held answers. Marissa grabbed it, unlocked it and scrolling through her notifications. No taxi calls, no Uber ride, how the fuck did she get back in one piece? There was an unread message though, from Shane. 

Hope you’re doing okay, I know it’s a rough day today... Call me if you need anything. Always here for you, Riss.

It’s a rough day today? Why was today a rough day? “Delilah!” She shouted again with a groan, standing up again, slower this time. “Babe?” Riss called out, taking slow steps around the house. She went in and out of every room, twice. She was alone. Her subconscious must have figured out what was happening because she went to the bedroom again and opened the wardrobe. All that was in there was her own clothes. She went to the other bedside table and opened it. A small bear lay in the drawer. She’d brought it back from New York when she went at Christmas. When she went to visit the grave. Her chest began to rise and fall in a panic, she shook her head and pulled at her hair. “No-- no, no, no...” She muttered to herself, again and again before letting out a piercing scream that echoed off every wall as she fell to the ground. She remembered. Everything came back like a train hitting her. Her heart broke all over again. She had to stop doing this, had to get rid of everything and anything that brought her back, that broke her heart. 

Riss became blind-sighted, running around her apartment, opening every single draw, every compartment, every safe, she threw every last bit of evidence that Delilah had ever died into a trash can and put it in the middle of her living room. She stared at it, all of the letters, all of the pictures, the certificate of death, the jewelry, the old perfume bottles. There was only one way to get rid of it all. She had to get rid of it all. She had to stop doing this, it was getting fucking old. She had to either get on with her life or just lose it completely. She had no idea which it would be, but this wasn’t an option anymore. 

Her hand reached into her pocket and pulled out a Zippo. Her breathing dropped back down, suddenly becoming steady. Her eyes became devoid of emotion, though tears ran down her cheeks. Shaking hands flicked the top, igniting the flame. She took a bottle from the globe-shaped drink cabinet and poured it over the trash can, then took a step back and threw the Zippo. 

A plume of fire exploded into the blackness, the flame rolling outwards like the smoke of a mushroom cloud. The heat was oppressive, but she didn’t run. She didn’t even move. She just stared at the flames, taking in the smell of her old life burning away. The fire was dancing, licking at the edges of the can, demanding more room to grow and more substance to fuel its rage. Black smoke began billowing from the top as the amber refused to be contained and began reaching hungrily for fuel. 

It wasn’t until the fire alarm started blaring that Marissa had realized that it had taken her couch as its own. She looked up to the ceiling in panic, there were supposed to be sprinklers, right? Where were they? She couldn’t even see the ceiling above the black smog which began falling down on her like a curse. What had she done? Riss looked around to grab her phone, to try and call help. The ashy air caught her lungs, causing her to cough and wheeze. She saw her phone become victim to the flames and as she looked around she realized that there was no route out, the only escape was the balcony ten feet away. Her eyes were stinging, barely able to make out anything but orange and yellow and red. 

Every step feels as if it could be the last before she collapses. Her head is light, she wants to scream but she can’t, she can barely breathe. But then she feels glass in front of her and she feels hope. Her fingers fumble with the sliding lock, the last of her strength and energy goes into pushing the door open and she falls out onto the concrete. Darkness takes her.

Hayden had clocked off from the casino and couldn’t stop thinking about Marissa. He felt like a dick for the way he behaved earlier that night, especially when he remembered what day it was. He hated the dynamic between them now, hated that they had become strangers, enemies. She was his best friend and had been for years. He needed to make things right. So, he drove around to her place, but as he turned the corner he was greeted with fire trucks, squad cars, and ambulances. There were forklifts up the side of the building, and flames violently billowing out of the top of the block. Out of the penthouse. Out of Marissa’s apartment. 

“What the fuck happened?!” He asked one of the Police Officers on the cordon. “Let me through please, I live here-- that apartment is my best friend's apartment, let me through!” He only half lied. The cop looked at him, then looked behind him and clearly chose to let someone else deal with keeping him contained because he lifted the yellow tape and Hayden ducked through. He ran over to the fire trucks and to one of the marshals. “Is anyone up there? My friend-- Marissa-- that’s her place, the penthouse, is she up there? Do you have her?” He fired question after question until the marshal placed his hand on Hayden’s shoulder. 

“Calm down, son. We got her, she’s coming down the lift now. She’s alive but-- she’s unconscious, we don’t know how bad yet,” he said, pointing up as the lift was slowly coming down the side of the building. Hayden began to pace, his hands were shaking, in fact, his whole body was shaking. He couldn’t lose her. How hypocritical was that? He faked his own death now he couldn’t lose her. God, why the fuck was the lift taking so long? 

“Can’t that thing go any fucking faster?!” He yelled out, hand covering his mouth straight after. They landed on the ground and Hayden ran over, pushing one of the marshals who had tried to stop him out of the way. They took her off and placed her onto a medical stretcher, and straight into the back of an ambulance. He didn’t leave her side, telling the paramedic that he’d have to knock him out if he didn’t want him getting in the back of the ambulance with them. 

“Can you hear me? Marissa! Riss! Move your fingers if you can hear me,” he said, the panic evident in his voice. “Riss, c’mon, what did you do?” Hayden begged, his hand holding hers as the paramedic used a flashlight to try and get any response from her eyes. They were twitching as the light passed by, which meant she was in there, but she wasn’t squeezing his hand back. “Riss, riss-- please, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I-- I fucked up, I need you, okay? Please... Come back to me...” Hayden cried, his head dropping onto the side of the bed as the paramedic put an oxygen mask over Riss as the ambulance began its high-speed journey to the hospital. 

“She’ll be okay, mate,” said the paramedic in a tone that had clearly comforted too many people already that night. “Just a few lung burns, give her a few hours on oxygen and she’ll be awake, okay? Her stats are normal, just the oxygen is low as expected. She’s okay.”.

Hayden knew that this happening today meant everything other than her being okay. 

She wasn’t okay.

But he was going to be there for her. 

Always.

#self para #remnants #ft. hayden #tw; sad AF #tw; fire

[inkribbon796]

Loose Lips, Sink Ships

Summary: Secrets, secrets, never tell . . . Secrets, secrets, just as well. Sometimes secrets are harmless, like the fact that Roman has a chronic case of losing the remotes and they don’t actually grow wings. But for Virgil and some of the other heroes, they’re a bit more serious. Too bad the Jims have no sense of the words: “keep out”.

A/N: No ships were harmed in the revealing of secrets. Just Virgil’s peace of mind. ALSO! Just wanted to put it out there I’m really glad I didn’t commit to a name for Deceit, might come out with a bonus fic this weekend for Deceit, cause I’ve got Sanders Sides on the brain.

Marvin would always swear up and down that it was an accident.

The magician had always been good at brewing potions. They took time, and Marvin prided himself on the fact that he could succeed where others failed, or even weren’t so good at. So of course he could make about any type of potion that wasn’t necessarily “above board” to make. I.E: love potions and truth serums. Both of which didn’t last nearly as long as fiction liked to say they lasted for.

However, when the Jims walked into a relatively packed common room with a huge grin, everyone knew something was up with them.

Eric, Patton, Virgil, and Randall were all watching a movie, a little bit of downtime before Patton and Virgil stepped back out. King was in the kitchen arguing about the coffee maker with Ethan and Roman. And Jackie, who was just watching the room, took one look at the Jims and thought, “Oh no, what are they up to this time?”.

“Party’s in the house!” RJ screamed and threw the glass potion he’d been hiding behind his back onto the floor. It smashed into pieces and quickly began to fill up the space.

A silvery smoke instantly flooded the room, more smoke than could have possibly fit inside that little glass orb.

Everyone in the lobby area began coughing, the smoke physically forcing them to breath it in. Jackie used his super speed to open the door and force the smoke out into the open air.

“Fook!” Jackie coughed, “what was that?”

“Not a glitter bomb,” RJ shrugged.

“I thought the label said it was a glitter bomb,” CJ agreed.

“Yeh fookers are mad,” Jackie spat. “Where’d you even get it?”

“Marvin’s study,” CJ answered. “He was working on something else.”

“Then why’d you take it?” Anxiety shouted. “What even was that thing?”

Both of the Jim Twins looked at each other, and then shrugged at the same time.

“Helpful,” Virgil glared at them.

“Okay, so we gotta figure out what it does,” Patton added. “Do you think it’s going to hurt anyone outside?”

“Nah, it was starting to dissipate when it hit the air outside,” Jackie said, zipping over to check outside for a second “Yep, coast’s all clear.”

Patton let out a sigh of relief, “Okay, that’s good.

“Maybe we could ask Marvin,” Randall asked.

“Good idea,” the Jim twins began at almost the same time. “We’ll go find him.”

Then they looked at each other with confusion.

“Nah uh,” Ethan walked over. “I don’t trust the two of you with shit. I’m coming with.”

Once the three of them were gone, Roman commented, “What if it only works on twins. Oh no! Will I be forced to share a mind with Remus again.”

“Shoot me,” Virgil groaned.

“No, you don’t really mean that do you?” Patton asked in concern.

“Of course not,” Virgil said. “It just slipped out.”

Patton looked relieved, and then tears started prickling his eyes, “Oh good, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Then Patton raced over and wrapped his arms around Virgil, the more anxious Side stiffening up like a cat that had been suddenly picked up.

“Come on, Pat, let me go,” Virgil struggled.

“Why don’t I ever get a hug from you?” Roman complained.

Jackie had his head in one of his hands, his phone starting to ring for Marvin. He was getting impatient, even more so when Marvin didn’t answer him. “Come on, we need to figure out what we got hit with.”

Marvin walked in with Ethan and the twins, and Jackie immediately stomped over to him.

“Hey Marv, what the hell?” Jackie spat. “What’d they steal?”

“I can’t tell just by the color ‘a smoke,” Marvin defended heatedly. “Has anyone suddenly tried making out.”

“No,” Eric said. “I ha-ve a b-b-oy-friend now, and . . . I don’t want to cheat on him. I’ve . . . I’ve never had a boy-friend before and—”

“Eric,” Marvin called out. “Breathe.”

“Is it Illy?” Roman’s attention hyper focused on Eric. “Did he call back? Tell me.”

“Illinois?” King balked. “Why the hell you are dating that asshole?”

“He’s not an asshole, he’s a sweetheart,” Eric began tearing up.

“He put slugs in my bed,” King dismissed. “He’s a nut job who got crazier the older he got and the closer he got to Dad.”

“Is it the same Illinois that works for Dark?” Virgil spoke up. “King’s right, he’s crazy.”

“He’s not!” Eric began crying.

“Hey, quit making ‘em cry, assholes,” Randall shouted back.

Magic suddenly seized all of them, Marvin taking control of the situation. “Hey,” Marvin called out. “Okay, it’s either a truth potion, or someone aerosolized my supply of Whiskey.”

“What were you doing with a truth potion?” Jackie demanded. “Did you give it to those two fookers?”

“No,” Marvin scoffed. “Those two would steal the clothes off my back if it meant pulling a prank.”

“We totally would,” CJ smiled, fist bumping with his brother; both of them which huge proud smiles.

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t try something,” Jackie reminded.

“I didn’t drug yeh, an’ it’ll wear off anywhere from an hour ta about a day, ‘pends on the dose.”

“A whole day!” Jackie was practically screeching.

“Depends on the dose,” Marvin answered. “But as long as no one’s got some deep dark secret you all should be fine.”

Anxiety let out a nervous scream.

Kay laughed nervously, “Everyone already knows mine.”

Patton began sobbing, whatever he was saying almost indecipherable.

“Well that’s great,” Marvin groaned.

“Why did yah even have that potion?” Jackie asked, still glaring at Marvin. “Probably didn’t mean for us ta get it though.”

“I made it ages ago an’ didn’t want ta risk it by flushing it down the drain,” Marvin spat. “Just get e’eryone comfortable, I’ll see if I can whip an antidote up.”

“Thanks, asshole,” Jackie spat. Then he looked a little surprised. “Dammit, that was supposed to stay in my head.”

“Well ‘til the potion wears off, it’s not. Keep everyone who was affected here,” Marvin sighed. “I’ll make some calls.”

Jackie nodded, thanking Marvin in-between cursing at him.

Keeping themselves in the lobby they tried not to insult each other the best they could. Eric was mostly calmed down, only  snapping at King who snapped back. It was fun for everyone to see the normally timid Eric snapping at someone.

However Patton was lying in the middle of the floor, staring at the ceiling. Virgil and Roman were on either side of him. King and Jackie were on the sofa and both the Jim’s were piled into a bean bag chair. Eric has gone to his room to sleep everything off, Randall taking him there.

“Do you ever think that your life’s a lie?” Patton mumbled out loud. “That no matter how many times you fuse, and how hard you try to be a good person, someone can just scoop out everything that makes you a good person and put in something else.”

Roman stared at him. “Like what?”

“I think I was replaced with another Patton, that your Patton is in my world, and I’m here,” Patton began to ramble. “But I wanna be a good person, I wanna be a good person so bad it hurts.”

“You are a good guy, Pat,” Roman said, cuddling up next to him.

“No, I’m a bad person,” Patton said in-between sobbing, his voice choking up. “I worked with Dark, I’ve watched people die.”

“You never worked with Dark, you’re been with the other Sides the whole time,” Anxiety told him. “I would have recognized you.”

“Then why do I have all these awful memories in my head that won’t go away,” Patton sat up, looking desperately at Virgil. Whether or not he was looking for reassurance or someone to validate his claims was unknown. “They only go away when I fuse. When I was Thomas last time they went away for months.”

Anxiety seemed to be thinking on Patton’s words, “It must be Arthur, he must be doing that to you. He’s forcing you to think that way.”

“Who’s Arthur?” Patton asked.

“Arthur’s dead,” King interrupted. “He bled out on an operating table in front of me. How many times do I keep having to repeat that.”

“What do you mean he’s dead, he can’t be,” Virgil responded. “He’s been keeping Dark from taking over the base.”

“Nah that’s Host and J.J, the two of them keep Dark out,” Roman bragged. “Dark’s always been trying to get into the base but it wasn’t until the Host joined that J.J got some help.”

“I knew he was a liar!” Anxiety shouted.

“Who?” Roman asked. “Dee?”

“Dark!” Anxiety answered. “Oh no.”

“He lies about a lot of stuff,” King agreed. “He once told me we couldn’t get a pet, and then he got himself a cat and named it after himself. I just wanted a puppy.”

“That’s so sad,” Patton told him, rolling over to prop his chin up on his palms. “Least you got a kitty.”

“For a couple days,” King dismissed. Then he paused, “Hey Vee, how’d you even hear about Artie? Everyone in the network uses nicknames.”

Virgil felt the words coming, like an out of control freight train with broken brakes. He grabbed at his throat. “He told me to look for him.”

“Who?” King asked. “Artie?”

“I don’t want to do it, I have talked with him since,” Virgil said, everyone was staring at him.. “You have to believe me, I didn’t believe it, I’m not spying on you, I promise!”

“I believe you,” Patton told him. “You don’t have to talk to him ever again.”

“What kind of spy doesn’t report on the people he’s spying on?” Jack agreed.

“You’re not mad?” Virge asked, daring to hope that somehow he was getting out of this alive. “Even if I was a bad guy?”

King laughed, “You think that’s bad, I’m hiding out from my old man because he would probably kill me if he ever saw me again.”

“Who’s your dad?” Randall asked.

“Dark,” King said, before slapping his hand over his mouth. “Oh no, Host’s gonna kill me.”

“What!?” About half of the heroes in the room shouted. Virgil stared at King.

“You’re not Arthur,” Virgil said out loud, his filter completely destroyed by the truth dust.

“Nah, that’s one of my siblings,” King was staring at his hands. “Host, Bim, Yan, me, Illy, Yancy, and . . .”

Then he stared at his hands, “Huh, weren’t there seven of us?”

“Was that Arthur?” Virgil asked.

“Nah, I already counted him,” King dismissed, waving at Virgil’s direction. “Sides, Artie’s kinda dead, except in the ways that probably matter. You all lucked out, you guys didn’t have to babysit him.”

RJ, who was almost falling asleep with CJ snapped away, almost dragging him and his camera over to have it almost pressed into King’s face. “This sounds like a story.”

King stared at the camera in fear, “Is that live? Please tell me it’s not live.”

“The Jim Twins should make sure it doesn’t see the light of day,” the Host announced himself.

“Host, there’s a truth spray in the air!” King called out desperately as the Host walked closer.

“Even if it was still the air, the Host’s narrations have him dictate his mind anyways,” the seer reminded.

“Oh yeah,” King’s mouth formed a thin line. “You really got the short end didn’t you?”

The Host just stared at him. “The King of the Squirrels should take a nap before he incriminates himself any further.”

“What if I did?” King somehow looked halfway between apologetic and not even a little remorseful. “Like, what if I messed up, bad?”

“The Host noticed,” the seer frowned at him.

“Nah, it was bad,” King frowned. “The one thing you told me not to do, I did it.”

“The Host can see the future, he doesn’t need a replay,” the Host reminded curtly.

“Do you hate me?” King asked sadly. “You probably do, right?”

The Host sat down on the couch next to his adopted brother, his expression softening, “The Host has never hated King.”

“Did Artie?” King was staring at his hands.

“No the Author did not hate King either,” the Host told him “He was angry and dangerous, but he did not hate his adopted family.”

King looked sad, “Oh, that sucks. Cause you were an asshole and I always felt bad about not being nicer.”

“King should save his sympathy,” Host decided. “The Author did not deserve it.”

“You did,” King told him. “You were in there, an’ I should’a been nicer.”

“So you’re Arthur then?” Virgil asked, narrowing his eyes in concentration. “Probably should have called that.”

“King and his friends should sleep,” Host told him, as his words began to curl around the room and people began dropping one by one to sleep. “Everything will be better after you sleep.”

They slept, making it easier for the minds to clear even if each of their dreams were a little more unusual and potion-fueled than usual. Marvin was able to lift the spell by the time they woke up, leaving an uncomfortable atmosphere in the potion’s wake.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Mark Fischbach #Sean McLoughlin #Thomas Sanders #the Jim Twins #Marvin the Magician #Anxiety Sanders #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #King of the Squirrels #Jackieboy Man #the Host #Randall Voorhees #Eric Derekson #Truth Serum #Jim chaos #the Jims at their finest

[our-jensen-ackles-love]

Wicked Games; 2

Jensen x Reader 

Summary: He was poison.  She was the whiskey.  They were wrong.  But then again they were so right. 

Rating: MA

Word Count: 1491

Warnings: thoughts of cheating, alcohol abuse and angst.

Author’s Note: this story is one-hundred percent 18+. Many upcoming chapters are going to deal with some dark things. So PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Also thank you to the babe, @jerkbitchidjitassbutt. 

KO-FI   FEEDBACK   MASTERLIST  SERIES  AO3

ONE

He couldn’t shake this feeling he had been evading for what felt like months on end. It was like something was gnawing away at his insides, trying to break free and make him face the truth. That truth was not a pill he was ready to swallow, but with every passing day it was getting more and more clear that no amount of alcohol was going to dull it.

“Jensen?” The familiar voice of Jared echoed, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the meeting they were having. It had something to do with a fundraiser that Misha wanted to do. It was for a good cause, but it was honestly the last thing on his mind in the moment. “Are you with us there, man?”

A rough hand dragged across his face, the last couple of nights evident in the bags forming under his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

His best friend shot him a concerned look, his lips parting like he had something else to say, but closed them just as quickly. “Alright, well what do you think of this idea?”

Leaning forward, he looked at the table in front of them, various charities, sporting events and clothing ideas riddled in piles of papers across the top of it. Something about one of the t-shirts caught his eye, pulling it towards him he eyed the design before scooting it over towards Misha. “What about this?”

Both of the men laugh as they shook their heads, making it clear that Jensen had been zoned out a little longer than he had intended to be. “That’s actually the one that we had picked out to,” Misha said, pulling the paper closer to him as well, inspecting it’s contents closely. “It’s the one that is partnered up with the battered women’s shelter.”

The laughter shared just a moment ago went somber as all three eyes stared at the little paper in front of them. Jensen was the first to break the sudden silence, “I think this is the one then.”

“Agreed,” stated Jared.

“Domestic violence needs all the support it can get,” agreed Misha before slamming his hand down on the table and giving both men an excited grin. “We’re gonna break the internet with this one.”

--

That itch was back.

It was slowly becoming more of a craving than anything. But it always seemed to creep up on him at the end of the day, usually right around the time that everyone was heading home to their wives. It was exactly the kind of thing that Jensen was trying to avoid. Especially that his wife had been hinting around the fact that she would be in her “fertile” window for the last two days.

He thought back to the night before, when he asked her if he was a bad person and she assured him that it wasn’t her call to make. And she was right, she didn’t even know his name - or if she did, she had one hell of a poker face.

“Hey there handsome,” her voice, even as a whisper, was the only thing that he heard in the loud club as she made his way towards him. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.”

Her figure stood before him, her fists resting on her hips as she looked up at him. The image before him made him smile. “How could I miss a night with you?”

He caught the glimpse of a smirk on those plump lips of hers and he was momentarily reminded of the way they felt pushed up against his. Jensen wanted to convince himself that he had dreamt up this woman, that she wasn’t his vice in these trying times, but the way she swayed her hips towards him had him aching to touch her again.

Touching was against the rules though; well for him, at least.

She stood before him now, looking up at him through decorated lashes. “Maybe I thought you had someone better to see.”

Jensen licked his bottom lip briefly while taking her in, wanting nothing more than to place his hands on hips and bring her up to meet his. “Believe me, there is no one else I would rather see tonight.”

The noise of pleasure from her throat at his words was not missed by his ears. Without another sound, she reached down and laced her fingers through his, turning and giving Jensen a full view of her perky ass. Sure, he knew that there were others there, possibly some who would recognize him, but right now he just needed the distraction. And that’s what she was - his distraction.

She led them through the semi-crowded main area, shrouded with tables and chairs, almost all of them facing the main stage. There was a room off to the left of the area, covered with a thick black curtain, it had some sort of kitchy name that he really never paid attention to. Nonetheless, it was a place that he was growing more fond of by the evening.

The man standing by the entrance gave a curt nod and shifted the curtain allowing them to walk through the threshold. Once safely tucked away from possible prying eyes, Jensen tugged on her arm halting her steps and turning to look at him from over her shoulder. “I still don’t know your name,” he spoke softly, pulling her closer to him. “And it’s been driving me crazy.”

“You know my name,” she answered, giving him that smirk once more that did things to his cock. “And I like to think you image yourself moaning it.”

Despite the way he hardened at the accuracy of her words, he pulled her closer while taking a risk and running a hand across her cheek while a low chuckle echoed in the dimness of the room. He loved the way she leaned into his touch, as she always did when he stole this sacred opportunity. “I think we both know Daisy isn’t your real name.”

“Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t.”

She didn’t waste a moment, nor did she give him a chance to rebuttal, instead taking a step back and pulling him towards the overly plush couch. This time she spun around until her back was towards the entrance and pushed him gently down to a sitting position; giving him one of the best views he had been daydreaming about.

He already knew the drill.

Jensen sat, staring at the woman before him as the lights seemed to dim a bit more and her hips began to swing in perfect timing with one of his favorite songs. It wasn’t long before one of her co-workers slipped through the curtain carrying a tray with his staple bottle of scotch teetering on the edge.

This was his happy place.

Daisy eyed him, almost as if she was making sure that he was comfortable with all that was around him. His hooded eyes and lazy smirk as he sipped on his drink while watching her move her body, running her hands up her frame and into her hair - made her have the sudden urge to let him do it.

But this was not the place for those kinds of things to happen.

--

A hard jab in the rib and Jensen woke up to find his wife hovering over him with her arms crossed, hair tossed up in a messy bun and the staple look of irritation written all over her face.

“Sleep well?” She spat in his direction, the crease between her eyebrows deepening as he sat up with a groan. “I know the couch isn’t the most comfortable place to wake up.”

He didn’t even know how he got home last night. Daisy just kept on asking her girl to bring him as many drinks as he wanted, hell, he wasn’t even sure if he had paid her last night. Wait, he thought, ignoring the annoyed looking Dee while he patted around his jacket before letting out a sigh of relief. Once he felt the familiar little rectangle of his leather wallet did he relax - well only a little bit.

“Jensen.”

He sighed, standing up and stretching the best that he could in his cramped and creased clothing. Desperately wanting skip the argument and head straight to the shower, he was quick to express his atonement. “I’m sorry Dee, I got a little caught up last night.”

“Yeah?” She asked, her arms squeezing together tighter, pulling at the fabric of her sweater. “You smell like a strip club.”

Despite the nervous chuckle, his stomach gave a sickening twist - whether it was from all the alcohol or because she was attempting to call his bluff was a mystery to him. Turning towards the stairs, he shook his head. “Ha, yeah, I’m gonna go shower.”

“Jensen?”

With a sigh, he turned back towards Danneel. “Yeah?”

“Promise me you’ll come home tonight.”

--

FOREVERS: @spnwoman @dramione-winchester-mccall @waywardsister @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @xalgaliareptx @shayrey @applepielyf @winchesterhound @yourvoiceislikearose @chocolateturtlepeanutopera @alexwinchester23 @emilyshurley @earthtokace @hobby27 @pisces-cutie @babykalika2001 @dean-winchesters-bacon @sweetiepie-dean @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @cheerxupxbuttercupx @itssmallerontheoutside-13​ @aeonian-forever @mirandaaustin93 @queenslandlover-93 @spnbaby-67 @akshi8278 @gh0stgurl @closetspngirl @waywardrose13 @theselilwonders @lizzietheizzie @mogaruke @roonyxx @maddiepants @daughterofthenight117 @adoptdontshoppets @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @deansyahtzee @screechingartisancashbailiff @rainflowermoon

WG: @maddiepants @the-is13 @katymacsupernatural @squirrelnotsam @flamencodiva @tabbyjane @cap-just-said-language @pretty-fortune 

#wicked games #jensen ackles #jensen x #jensen ackles supernatural #jensen smut #jensen x reader #jensen x reader insert #Jensen x You #jensen x y/n #+18 #Smut #supernatural #supernatural cast #spn fanfic #spn x reader #not quite SPN #Supernatual #supernatural fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #jensen angst