#buck seeing a corpse get up and start walking around: damn this would make a good song

[danidoesathing]

in hindsight Buck Vernon is such a funny character. like his whole story starts off with his ass getting dumped but not even realizing it. he goes across the country searching for her and doesn't have any luck until he goes to a random fortune teller (who later admits to scamming him) and takes her vague bullshit to heart which leads him to get caught in the middle of a wild drug ring and he may have accidentally set off a war between said drug dealers and a gang of arsonists that was founded by an undead biker dude. he once bumped into said undead biker dude at a night club while running from the cops. he can see/talk to ghosts and it's never explained why and he doesnt even make a big deal of it. he ends up finding a corpse in the middle of the road and goes "well shit someone has to bury the guy". when said corpse gets up and asks for a smoke buck just. gives it to him and starts having a chat with him. he cant lie for shit and gets caught like every single time but still manages to get out of every situation alive. he once beat up a drug dealer in the back of an arcade. he got black brained which kills every other character it happened to and just. didnt die somehow?? he's killed at least two people and doesn't even blink. when he found his ex and got dumped a second time he just. got up and walked off with a bullet wound in his leg. he presumably lived and proceeds to write weird sad love songs for the rest of his life.

hes the most pathetic noir protagonist ive ever seen. there's something deeply wrong with him. i want to study him

[alia-turin]

I got an anon request for ciredin some time ago, also I know @mentoskadraws would hate to read that. 

Warning: NSFW, Eredin is being Eredin. Mostly porn, plot is for decoration

AO3 Link

Eredin watched as the young Navigator rocked back and forth on the dining chair. His eyes weren’t fixed on Caranthir exactly but a point between the hind legs of the chair and the stone floor. If they snapped, he was going to laugh.

“For someone who is about to be a king you appear to be very calm.” Caranthir was staring at him with his cold blue eyes. 

Eredin just smiled. He was glad he appeared calm because he was everything but on the inside. There was a small chance his plan would fail. He knew nobody would suspect him, but he was done with being Auberon’s errand boy. He was better, he could do better. 

Caranthir stopped rocking on the chair and narrowed his eyes. Eredin heard it as well. People running outside the common room where they were sitting. Shouts he couldn’t identify - guards or servants didn’t matter there was some sort of commotion. 

“He is dead.” the navigator said with a flat voice. He might have said that the sun is shining with the same pathos. Eredin raised an eyebrow questioning, Caranthir rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Yes, I’m sure.”

It wasn’t that he doubted his navigator, Caranthir rarely made mistakes, but even Eredin was surprised how finetuned the younger man’s senses were. He should thank Avallac’h daily for this gift.

“I think it’s time to pay your old teacher a visit.” Eredin said with a smile and his words were met with an even wider one. Caranthir got up, way too eager and opened a portal. “Don’t kill him. Just make sure he doesn’t create trouble.”

“Your Majesty.” the navigator made a graceful but obviously mocking bow before he walked through the portal.

Eredin waited alone few more minutes. He couldn’t very well walk out and proclaim himself king while Auberon’s corpse was still warm. Ge’els had to work his magic, the two of them had an agreement. Imlerith was going to take care of the army, not that he ever assumed that would be the issue. The soldiers loved Eredin and they would follow him anywhere. Avallac’h was the only problem, too powerful and too influential with some of the nobility that Ge’els might have a hard time swaying. It didn’t matter, with time that would be resolved. There was one task he had to take care of. 

Eredin walked out of the room calmly, the hallways had grown very silent. There was no trace of the commotion that happened just minutes ago, probably everyone was too afraid to ask the question what was going to happen next. He was going to tell them exactly what was coming next. 

There were two guards by Zireael’s room, both of them looked as if they wanted to be anywhere but here. Eredin just waved them off, and they walked away, almost grateful.

When he opened the door she was curled on the bad, her robes barely covering her small body. Green eyes immediately looked at him and there was a bit of a disappointment when she realized who walked in. 

“Expected somebody else?” Eredin asked as he started walking toward the bed.

“Auberon is dead, I cannot do what you all asked me to do, Avallac’h promised I can go home…” she got up and stepped toward him, her robes being barely held by a thin belt around her waist. 

“Avallac’h promised.” Eredin mocked her words. “What did I tell you about Crevan?”

She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. Eredin placed a finger under her chin and made her look at him. 

“Do you really want to leave?” he made a step closer, his body almost touching hers. “Where was your mind all these nights with Auberon. Home or...with someone else?” he saw the blush growing on her cheeks and creeping down to her neck. He ran his thumb over her lips, so soft. 

“Why don’t you kneel for your new king?”

Ciri hesitated for a moment her body was betraying her. The bastard knew he had that effect on her and he had been using it all these week. She looked at him, the smirk, the arrogant gaze that was undressing her, not that she had much on herself. Her knees buckled and she found herself kneeling, his finger still supporting her chin and forcing her to look up to him. Everything had just disappeared from her mind, Auberon, home...all she could think about is Eredin and the arousal that was growing in her. She hated him for making her feel like that, for wanting him like that. He didn’t even need to look at her and she felt like she could beg for his touch. 

“You are overdressed.” Eredin was looking down on her, she felt as if she should resist him, but she couldn’t. She wanted him and in this moment everything else could be damned. 

Ciri peeled the robe off her body and it just felt around her. Eredn’s eyes following every move, the smirk on his lips not disappearing even for a second. It was embarrassing and exciting at the same time. He was still fully dressed, she was completely naked. She could see him getting harder, she was already so wet. 

Eredin pulled his hand away from her chin and Ciri looked confused. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for - kiss, for him to throw her on the bed...something but not to...step away. He started unbuckling his belt slowly, every move measured and controlled as if wanting her to see and memorize that. Equally slowly he pulled the belt, the leather sneaking through each loop of his pants, the way he moved was hypnotizing. He bent toward her and for a split second Ciri thought he was going to kiss her, but his mouth did not come anywhere close to hers. Instead he just grabbed her hands and tied his belt around her wrists. When he was up again he ran his fingers through her hair almost gently. 

“I don’t think I need to tell you what to do, dh'oine slut?” he increased the grip around her hair, but didn’t yank. 

Ciri could only guess what he wanted, but she was more than aware of what she wanted of him. She raised her bound hands up to untie his pants, but then Eredin yanked her hair painfully. 

“These are tied for a reason.” the predatory smirk on his lips was intoxicating. “Use your mouth.” 

Ciri gave him a confused look, but her arousal had taken over her entire mind and body. She leaned forward using her teeth to pull on the laces. It turned out to be easier than she thought but she still needed to loosen them enough. That was the harder task, her teeth pulling on each lace, but without her hands that seemed impossible . 

Eredin moved his hand from her hair and cupped Ciri’s face, making her look at him. 

“That pretty mouth better be good for something else.” with his free hand he finished undoing his pants and pulled them down. 

Ciri’s eyes shifted from his to between his legs, his cock hard in front of her. No, she didn’t need him to tell her what to do. 

She moved her head forward and he released his grip. Bastard knew what was doing to her, but two could play that game. She licked the back of his shaft slowly, her eyes looking up at him, but Eredin’s face was just a mask of arrogance and lust. Her tongue stopped at the tip, very slowly circling. 

She could be imagining that but she could hear a very loud swallowing sound come from him. Ciri smiled mostly to herself, her lips kissing the top of his length and then very slowly taking him in her mouth. Eredin’s hand moved on her head again, but to her surprise he did not force her to go faster. It was just resting there. 

She wasn’t sure if she could take his full length in, but she was certainly going to try. As he reached the back of her throat she gagged, but used her tongue to press against him. Ciri started moving up and down his length as she moaned. The need between her legs was torturous and she wanted for him to touch her or at least allow her to touch herself. Her eyes did not leave Eredin’s as she was sucking him, but his expression remained unchained. His grip around her hair tightened now he forced her down on himself and she just couldn’t resist him. 

She got the hint, she started moving faster, not able to maintain her eye contact with him she just focused on pleasing him and maybe after that he could return the favour in some way. Every time he squeezed her hair she moved a bit faster until at some point he just pushed her down his length, his hips bucked hard against her and she felt him come. Her eyes filled with tears by the more violent intrusion but she swallowed as she looked back up at him. For a second the mask of arrogance and lust had broken, there was some strange bliss on his face. 

Eredin let go of her hair and caressed her cheek as he stepped back away from her. She was panting, gasping for breath, but also needing him desperately to touch her. 

He pulled his pants up his eyes not leaving hers and...he walked away. 

“Where are you going?” Ciri shouted in frustration after him. 

“I have business to attend to.” he didn’t even turn toward her as he said that and opened the door. “But you can keep the belt.” she couldn’t see his face but that bastard was smirking. 

“Are you coming back?” she didn’t want to sound needy, but she was needy right now. 

“In an hour. Or a day. Maybe a week.” he walked out and closed the door behind himself.

[presentmicsongbird]

Yandere!Miriko x reader

It started out small. Little gifts, knick-knacks, and fancy jewelry started showing up on your desk almost every day for the past 5 months. At the very least, you were confused, but you did appreciate the gesture. It just bummed you out that you didn't know who kept sending them, none of the items ever came with a card, or even an initial.

However, there was one thing that that they all had in common: they all had some sort of bunny rabbit design. The first gift you recieved happened after you came back from a cafe you visited regularly for lunch. 

A small white box tied with a purple silk ribbon, no bigger than your palm, sat in front of your computer. You looked around to see if anyone would come by and tell you it was theirs or was about to tell you it was from them, but it never happened. 

Shifting your attention back to the box, you carefully picked it up and inspected it, wondering if it was a prank, but you shook your head, deciding it was a ridiculous thought. You pulled on the ribbon and opened the lid, immediately turning your eyes into saucers at the item inside.

A small diamond encrusted pendant in a shape of a bunny head rested on top of a velvet colored foam, a pair of carefully cut amethyst gems, as its eyes, gleamed while your mouth gaped open and closed. 

This thing must've cost a fortune. 

You lifted it off the box and out followed a thin silver chain, looking just as expensive as the pendant. You couldn't believe it, there had to be some sort of mistake. You weren't very popular at work, in fact, you mostly kept to yourself and got the job done in record time. Sure you were praised by your boss and a few of your friends, but you doubt any of them would go this far for your "good job." 

 You snapped out of your thoughts and put the necklace back in its box, carefully placing it in a drawer before finishing the rest of the paper work piled on your desk. You'll wait a few days and see if anyone would come and get it. Until then, you'd rather not take the risk of being called a thief. 

The next day rolled by, and to your surprise, another white box sat in front of your computer, this time it was a rectangular box with a purple rose at the corner, slightly bigger than the one you got yesterday. You asked the other staff if they'd seen  who dropped it off, but they all said no. 

You sat down and opened the box, this time it was a fluffy white bunny keychain with a purple ribbon wrapped around its neck. And just like the pendant, its eyes were an amethyst color. You sighed and checked the box again to see if there was a note, but to no avail. You looked back at the bunny and gently pet its head, the corners of your mouth curving slightly at how soft it was. It may have been strange, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't cute. 

This continued on for a while, the anonymous gifts came everyday as usual, and somewhere along the second or third week, you had decided to wear the necklace and hang the keychain on the zipper of your bag, earning a handful of comments saying how lucky you were or asking who the secret admirer was. You simply smiled and gave a small shrug. The gifts ranged from gel pens, headbands, bunny labels, (which became incredibly useful for your notes and binders), and, one time, even a assortment basket with chocolate bunnies and flowers. 

This, of course, also started up some rumors saying that you were in charge of all the gifts and sent it to yourself to get attention. You couldn't even if you wanted to, you worked in the financial department sure, but the pay wasn't that high that you can buy gifts everyday. 

You were able to convince a majority of the employees, but a few of the bratty ones stuck around and would occasionally give out snide remarks or jealous glances your way. Even so, you chose to ignore them since they didn't really get in the way of your work. Plus, with the gifts instantly making your day and never failing to make you go home with a smile, it seemed like there was nothing that could go wrong.

you really wished you had knocked on wood.

On a particular day, you were on your desk finishing the financial report for this year, gently tapping your (newly gifted) bunny pen against your desk,  until one of the female workers decided to "accidentally" spill her cup of hot coffee on your lap. Naturally, you let out a shriek that alerted everyone in proxmity and soon your were covered in paper towels and icepacks.

You looked up in tears and saw it was  one of the girls from the general office. You didn't remember her name, but you knew the red hair and the three scales on her cheek. She was one of the workers who cursed at you under her breath. She was standing a few feet away from your desk, her empty cup still in her hand. 

"What the hell is your deal?!" One of your friends yelled. The woman scoffed and rolled her eyes. 

"My deal? My deal is the unfair treatment in this damn place!"

What

It wasn't your fault that you kept recieving gifts, and they never have notes on them so couldn't return them even if you wanted. (Not that you ever would.) You had learned to like the gifts, though creepy at first, they seemed like a kind enough gesture. You broke away from your thoughts once the woman started screaming again. 

"We're here working our arses off, but SHE gets all these things EVERYDAY and for what? For counting a few bucks? Puh-lease. Any idiot can do-" 

"ENOUGH!" You all turned your heads to the booming voice and saw your boss standing by the doorway. His usually friendly smile was gone and replaced with a thin line and his arms crossed. He turned to you and to the red haired woman.

"You, in my office now." 

"Bu-" he cut her off. 

"Now." She scurried off, but not before giving me one last hateful glance and left. "The rest of you make sure (y/n) is okay. (Y/N)," 

You were still trembling, but the pain subsided after the burn cooled down. Thankgoodness you chose to wear pants today. With a shaky breath you managed to say quiet "yes?" 

"If you're feeling better, feel free to go home for the day. The report can be handed in next week." And with that, he turned around and left. The ones that were helping you cool down sighed in relief and started asking if your were alright, a few individuals walking away to throw the damp towels in the trash. You nodded meekly and managed a smile. 

"Yeah, it just....surprised me that's all." They all gave you apologetic looks as they went back to their own desks, one by one. Your friend, the one who yelled at the red haired woman, placed her hand on your shoulder and handed you another icepack. 

"Don't worry, she'll be out of this place for good. You know how the boss gets  when it comes to stuff like this." 

"I guess." You replied. 

"You think your secret admirer will hear about this?" Oh gods, you really wished he or she wouldn't. Its troublesome enough that you got gifts everyday, you wouldn't want them to bother with a mere bully. You were a grown woman, you could handle this much without causing a bigger scene. 

"I hope not." 

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

You left the office after getting a spare change of clothes from your friend. Thankfully, the report you had to do had only one more calculation so you didn't need to worry about rushing.

As you laid in bed clutching your big stuffed toy rabbit. (A gift from last week) You began to wonder who this mysterious admirer really was, were they playing with you? What was it about you that caught their attention? Have you met before? 

Questions filled your head for what felt like hours until the buzzing of the dryer downstairs signaled you clothes to be all clean and ready to be worn again. You took it out of the machine and ironed it quickly, carefully placing it on a hanger to be used tomorrow. You were too tired to pick out a new uniform, this one will do. Right now, all you needed was sleep. 

"This just in: two boys find a corpse inside a dumpster. Investigators suggest a potential homicide by unknown assailant.” 

The reporter on the TV gestured behind her as medical teams tried to make sense of the dead body. Its face was completely bashed it, you could barely recognize its features. Its hair looked as if it were burned off and all thats left were burnt scabs left in patches. 

"Geez, so early in the morning and this happens? What a mood killer." Your friend rolled her eyes and leaned back over her desk to finish her work. 

Against almost everyone's wishes, you decided to come to work the next day as well as hand it your report. It was boring not having to do anything at home so you chose work instead. Besides, it's Friday, no way were you going to break your weekly self-treats. 

"Seriously, y/n, you're too stiff. You know what people here would give for a three day weekend?" You giggled at her frustration. It's not your fault you couldn't sit still for more than 2 seconds. 

"Oh by the way, did you get a new gift today from your admirer?" 

Ah yes...how could you have possibly forgotten. 

You took out a white and sparkly paper bag from under your desk and showed it to her.

"Yup." You dug through the papers and pulled out a purple wallet with a white bunny in the corner. You "awed" before moving all your credit cards and wallets from your old purse to your new gift. Before you could get started on your paperwork, you friend called out.

"Hey check this out." You looked over and saw a card in her hand...

Oh crap...no way. That's an actual card. 

You quickly snatched the folded paper and read it over once. Twice. There was no mistake on what was on it. 

"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday, little bunny. Rest assured, the brat won't bother you anymore.   -R.U" 

What the heck? How did they even know about that? And R.H? You didn't recognize the initials. Maybe someone talked about it outside of work...Yea that's a good reason. 

"Huh, makes sense." 

"What does?" 

"Haven't you heard? The girl who spilled her coffee on you was fired yesterday." Well that explains a few things. 

The day went by rather quickly, and before you knew it everyone was packing up their stuff and heading home. You on the other hand went to your favorite coffee shop.

As soon as you paid and left with your drink, you followed your usual route home, thankful for the peaceful night.

You spoke too soon, apparently.

After the train stopped at your station, a few gun men tool all exiting passengers as hostage including yourself. 

You just couldn't catch a break, could you. You clutched your bag tightly against your chest, glancing down at the bunny keychain hanging from the zipper. 

You couldn't die here. Not now, not when you haven't met your admirer yet, not when you haven't said thank you.  

As you cradled the keychain in your palm, you could've sworn its eyes glowed, though you were probably just scared out of your mind.

As if answering your prayers, a voice called out from the other platform. 

"Lookie what we got here, a bunch kids wanting to play villains. You picked a wrong day to piss me off." 

Miriko! The bunny hero! Thank the gods. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, a smug grin on her face as she continued to taunt your captors. 

Before they could get a word out, three men were knocked to the ground, and two more followed after. 

"Hey you!" You looked up at the last masked man standing and gulped. He pulled your arm up and held a gun to your temple. "A-Alright, Hero, you think you're tough, huh?" Take one more step and i shoot this girl's head to bits!"  

You saw Miriko standing a few feet away, it could've been your imagination, but you thought you saw her eyes darken as she growled, getting into a fighting stance. 

"Im warning you!" He dug his fingers deeper in, making you cry out. Before you could blink, you heard a sharp grunt before getting pulled into a plush chest. You blushed knowing who it belonged to. 

"Yeah, right, warnings shwarnings, tell it to the cops, you bastard." 

With all the gun men down, everyone cheered for the Bunny hero's rescue, thankful for their lives being saved.

You, on the other hand were still in Miriko's arms, and from the way they held you, she didn't seem to have the intention of letting go. Slowly you pried yourself away and bowed, saying your thanks as well before turning to to go home. But before you could, you felt arm on your shoulder.

"Wait just a second here, miss. Are you sure you're alright going home by yourself? That was a pretty scary thing back there." You simply smiled and nodded. 

"Y-yes. Thank you for your concern Miriko-san, but i'll be okay." 

"Alright, but just to be safe, i'm escorting you home." 

Wait...what? 

"No-really, i'm fine you don’t have t-" she cut off with a loud laugh. 

"Haha no need to be shy now, i'm a hero, it's my job. It's no trouble at all, uh.." 

"Y/n." You said quickly.

"Y/n. Pretty name you got." You turned your head to hide a blush. 

“Oh, and might this little one be yours?” 

You turned your head and saw the bunny keychain in her hand. You glanced at the empty zipper and back to the hero. You didn’t even realize it dropped. 

“Y-Yes, I didn’t even notice...thank you.” You gently took it from her hand and tucked it in your bag. You’ll fix it later. 

"Cute...Alright y/n, let's get you home." 

True to her word, she followed you all the way to your apartment, fortunately just to the front lobby. You didn't want all the attention on you. 

"W-well, here's my stop." You turned around and bowed your head. "Thank you again Ms. Miriko."

"And I told you, no problem. I'd do it a hundred times if i had too, doll." You blushed at the pet name, but said nothing as you got on the elevator and giving the bunny hero one last glance.

You’ve been staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours now, but it was hard getting the pro-hero's face out of your head. Her proud smile, her strong arms, the way she held you while shielding your body away from your attacker. It felt so...so...surreal. 

You sighed and closed your eyes. With the events still fresh in your head, you slept with a smile on your face, unaware of the amber eyes watching you from outside.   

——

You were absolutely gorgeous, the moment she first laid eyes on you, she knew you were hers. You’ve already met a few months back, when she caught you before face-planting with the concrete. 

Your clumsiness had a bit of a charm, (who wouldn’t be in heels?) you were small, and short....

Vulnerable....

Before she could say another word, you had said your thanks and ran off into the building you were in front of. She was in her casual clothes so you must’ve not recognized her. 

It’s fine...she’ll just have to find another method. 

“I wonder if you like bunnies.” Miriko smirked before heading the other direction, a plan in her head. 

It took some strings and a few calls, but she finally got your schedule and info. She was really glad when she saw you using your gifts everyday. The necklace looked amazing on your neck. 

News travelled fast and so did gossip. That little wench had the guts to hurt you...

You...her mate...her little snowflake...

It took everything in Miriko to not kick everything in her office...

No...it’s fine...

She just needed to have a friendly talk...

Of course it made the news the next day, but she was quick and made sure no tracks were left behind. She will make  sure no one will hurt you again. She’ll have eyes and ears everywhere, including hers.

Perhaps it’s time to take you home...

You need to repay her for those gifts after all. 

[blahblahwritings]

You Owe Me.

A/N: I wrote most of this sitting next to my mum and her partner on the couch and they had no idea. I live life on the edge.

Words: 3227 oops.

Warnings: Smut and a little angst. Fluff at the end.

You told him this was a bad idea. A terrible idea, actually. But, that was Poe Dameron; reckless and absolutely mad. Then again, what did that make you? You who would follow the man into fire and destruction head first, risking your life in the process? At this point, with blasters firing at you and explosions coming from all directions, you were entirely sure it made you a fucking idiot. He’d decided to go straight through the front door of the stormtrooper base on a planet you had very little to no intelligence on with even less insight into the layout, guard shifts or manpower they had available.

Yet here you were, right alongside him.

“We can’t take much more of this, Poe. We need to retreat.” You shouted over the sirens into your commlink. A red blaster shot whizzed past your ear as you fell back against the metal crate granting you some reprieve from the oncoming fire. “Fuck.” Peeking out from behind your cover, you aimed with both weapons and took out two troopers in quick succession. You had already lost a member of the team. You weren’t prepared for this mission and you certainly weren’t prepared to lose Poe.

“Just a little further, if we can get to the control room we can bring this whole place to its knees.” Poe replied. “Move up.” He ordered. With a growl you sprang forwards, shooting down another foe before rounding the next corner.

A trooper with a rifle aimed and fired before you could retaliate. The searing pain flooded your leg causing you to fall to the ground with a howl, blasters clattering against the metal grating. Poe took him out before landing right beside you, for a split second he looked scared but it disappeared as he checked you over. The good news was that the shot cauterized the wound immediately the bad news was there was another team of them advancing on you and fast.

You tore a frag from his belt, tossing it straight for the group. Pushing him and yourself back around the corner and ignoring the throbbing in your thigh, you both turned to shield your faces. The detonation sent debris flying past you both. A glance into the corridor revealed a pile of corpses and you sighed in relief, falling back against Poe. He sucked in a breath to speak but you clenched your jaw and stood despite the agony.

You were beyond furious with him.

Limping onward, you found the control room as a chorus of marching footsteps could be heard down the next hallway. Poe stood at the entryway to lay down some cover fire as you worked your magic, hacking into the system and bringing the base to a complete lockdown. Doors slammed shut, power to the important areas of the base went out and the alarms stopped blaring. Mission complete. Poe shot the last remaining troopers and called in the rest of the team to clean out the now-prisoners that were left.

-

Once back at the rebel base, you’d went straight to the medbay not giving Poe the satisfaction of a conversation, ignoring him the whole trip back. He’d been like a puppy, trying to make sure you were alright and offering you food, water and rest but you’d just glared at him. He even thanked you for going ahead with his plan which only pissed you off further because he didn’t admit that it was outright stupid and far too dangerous to carry out in the first place.

So you sat with the medical droid as it patched you up, and gulped down painkillers like they were candy, still shaking from the come down of the adrenaline and rage. The hiss of the door let you know someone had come in and you knew just by the presence who it was. His booted footsteps made their way over to you as the droid finished its work and disappeared into the adjoined room, you thanked it for its work as it beeped happily.

Looking down at the floor, his legs and feet invaded your view, but you refused to look at him. His forefinger and thumb pinched your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. They were full of emotion, voids of unspoken apologies and fear. Your resolve began to crumble, as tears swelled in your own eyes.

“I’m so sorry, you were right we should’ve retreat- no we shouldn’t have even gone there until we had a better idea of what we were walking into. I put you and the team in danger and I take full responsibility for that. We lost a good man today and for a second I thought I’d lost you too and I just- I- I don’t know what I would’ve done. My judgement was clouded by pride and a hatred towards our enemy and I swear to you I won’t let it happen again. I don’t expect you to forgive me anytime soon but I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He finished. You scrunched your nose, clenched your jaw and furrowed your brows as the tears spilled over. Looking away you shook your head and Poe's shoulders slouched in defeat, hand falling from your face.

“Goddamn it. God fucking damn it Poe, I told you, I fucking told you.” You started sniffling as trails of salty droplets rolled down your cheeks, the anger, the fear, the pain all coming out at once. His own eyes became glassy, his breathing ragged as he tried to hold it all in. You took his hand, threading your fingers through his own. “But how am I supposed to stay angry at you with an apology like that.” You scoffed and looked at his face. Hope filled his expression as his eyes flickered between yours. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, I’m still furious but I do forgive you. I think I forgave you before we even landed back here because I’m the one that went with your plan. I’m the one that would follow you to hell and back but don’t you dare use that for this shit again.” You ended with gritted teeth.

He nodded, lips in a tight thin line as he apologised again. You brought your mouth to his in a bittersweet kiss and it was then that you realised you weren’t wearing any pants since the droid fixed you up. His hands found the sides of your face, still wet from the tears and deepened the kiss as his fingers found the back of your head, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. The other hand trailed down to your hips, pulling you flush with his chest where you sat on the medical table. Your bare legs wrapped around his as you pulled away from him, biting his lip as you moved back. This earned a buck of his hips against your center, a throaty moan leaving his parted, swollen lips.

“Easy there, Commander.” You chuckled, smirking at how his demeanour changed. Looking down at you he huffed out an amused breath at the title, eyes filled with a need for you. You knew what it did to him. Pushing him back, you found your pants, pulling them on and grabbing his hand, leading him back to your shared quarters.

The door to your room slammed behind you as he pinned you against it, the emotions of the day taking over in an entirely different way. The need to be close to one another, the residual energy and adrenaline mixing together into a new carnal hunger that could only be satiated by this one simple act. His hands shot to your shirt, tearing it from your torso and allowing his fingers to explore you. You captured his mouth in a fervent kiss, teeth nipping and tongues dancing. His shirt found its way to the floor alongside his boots and pants.

Pushing him back, his legs hit the bed and he fell onto the mattress. You kicked off your pants, the dull throb in your thigh making you wince only barely. Poe watched you closely leaning up on his elbows as you straddled him, a devilish grin painted on your features. All that separated the two of you was your underwear. You shoved him flat on the bed by his shoulders and intertwined your fingers with his. Pinning his hands above his head, you started sucking and biting at his stubbled jaw, then his neck, then his collarbones, leaving behind a trail of marks on his soft skin.

The sounds he was making were music to your ears, soaking your panties and you pulled back to watch his face as you ground your core against him through his boxers. His jaw clenched shut and his eyes rolled closed as his throat bobbed up and down. The thick curls of hair behind his head framed his pleasured expression like a sinful renaissance painting. You found a slow, tantalising rhythm, circling your hips over his clothed cock. He was hard and thick beneath you, a damp spot forming on the material of his shorts by the tip.

“Fuck, baby just - keep going.” He panted, bucking his hips to match your rhythm. You let go of his wrists and his hands instantly gripped your hips, forcing you to move faster. A dark chuckle left you and you stood. His eyes opened, confusion and desire swirling around his dilated pupils but then he saw you. Unclasping your bra, you dragged it down your shoulders, watching his eyes follow its path as you slowly took it off. Before you revealed your chest to him, you turned your back and then tossed the piece of fabric to the side. You hooked your thumbs through the top of your panties and bent fully over as you pushed them from you, giving him the full view of your ass. They quickly joined the rest of your clothes.

There was a drawn out groan from behind you as you raised back up. You shot a wink from over your shoulder, seeing him sat at the bottom of your bed, a sizable tent in his pre-cum stained underwear. Turning, you revealed your naked form to him and saw him twitch through the last remaining bit of clothing. You walked to him accentuating the movement of your hips as you did and, cupping his jaw, you made him look into your eyes. A bead of sweat trickled from his neck down to his chest and you followed its trail with your tongue, swishing it gently over his erect nipple before kissing further down until you knelt between his legs.

Looking up at him through your lashes, your hands found his thighs, featherlight touches gliding up and up, then you dug your nails in, raking them back towards his knees. You thought he would break any moment, take you by your waist and fuck you right then and there but he just whined, knuckles turning white as he gripped the sheets beneath him. You pulled the material down and he lifted his hips slightly so you could take them off fully. His cock stood tall and thick, pouring with pre-cum, the vein on the underside pulsating with need. You moved forward, kitten licking the tip. A whimper. You grinned like a cheshire cat. Another lick, this time up the protruding vein right to the slit. Then, you took as much of him into your mouth as you could, sucking and swirling your tongue around him and using a hand to grip what couldn’t fit as he hit the back of your throat. The feeling of his thighs quaking either side of you sent a wave of pride through you, knowing he was already close despite such a limited amount of stimulation. You bobbed up and down slowly, teasing him as another hand played with his balls. His grasp found your scalp and pulled at your hair making you groan around him. The vibrations had him twitching in your mouth, so, so close to the edge but you pulled away fully, licking the slick from your lips and fingers.

His breathing was coming out in fast uneven breaths, hands trembling against your head as he looked down at you. “Shit, why did you stop?” He asked, voice breaking.

“You owe me, remember?” You replied, rising up from the floor. At this, he stood quickly, taking your hips and switching positions so you were pushed back on the bed and he was on the floor, your cunt open and soaked for him. He sucked in a breath and his eyes rolled back at the scent of you. His fingers traced patterns from your ankles as he hooked them over his shoulders all the way up to your inner thighs and your breath hitched.

A gasp tumbled from your lips and your head fell to the plush blankets adorning the mattress as he dragged the flat of his tongue through your folds, collecting the taste of you from entrance to clit. He pulled your nub into his mouth and drew lazy circles around it, growling as he did so. The tremor sent waves of pleasure through you and you tangled your fingers in his curls, pulling him into you. He teased your hole with a single digit, gathering wetness before leisurely pushing it into you. Your back arched off the bed.

He began pumping his finger in and out, in and out, his tongue massaging your clit at varying pressures until you were a panting, squirming mess. He added a second finger, stretching your cunt blissfully. He watched your face from between your legs, the sight of you losing it against his tongue enough to make him finish there but he painfully held back. Your thighs shook, nails scraping his scalp as your legs pushed his face harder against you. You were almost there. The tight knot in your lower abdomen building and building. Then he curled his fingers reaching the spot that made you see stars, his pace faster now, hitting it in quick succession. That was it, you fell apart on his fingers, fucking yourself against his face and hand desperately as your muscles clenched around him, screaming. Your whole body shook, contorting as you came. He continued his ministrations as you rode out your high against him.

As you came down, he removed his fingers, replacing them with his tongue, nose brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Lapping up the juices, he parted from your dripping center, lips shining with your cum. You let out a wanton moan at the sight of him, hair ruffled, lips swollen and parted, covered in your slick. Half lidded eyes found yours as his mouth curled up at the corner in a smirk between your still shaking thighs.

He gently removed your legs from his shoulders and crawled up to meet your lips, kissing and licking as he went, the cold metal of the ring around his neck sending shivers up and down your spine. Taking a nipple into his mouth he bit down ever so lightly, scraping your sensitive peak as he toyed with the other between his dexterous fingers. Maneuvering further up, he nuzzled your neck and jaw until he was right by your ear.

��Do I get to fuck you senseless now, Sweetheart?” He cooed, lips tracing the shell and nibbling your lobe. Your reply came in the form of a whimper, hips rising to meet his own. He licked his lips, lowering to kiss you hungrily. You grew impatient and switched your positions so you were on top. He looked as if he was about to protest but you lined him up and sunk down until he was fully sheathed inside you. Mouth falling open, head dropping against the pillows, he was on cloud nine inside you. You stayed still, your walls clenching around him as you adjusted. His hands rubbed up and down your thighs, careful not to upset your injury, with slurred compliments clumsily spewing from his mouth.

You looked at him, blissed out, eyes full of adoration for only you. His lips fell into a half cocked smile as you started to ride him. He moved his grip to your hips, letting you set your own pace but desperately needing to hold on to something. Taking his hand, you brought it to your face, kissing the inside of his palm as you gasped and whined while his cock slid in and out of you. He cupped your jaw, thumb rubbing against your bottom lip. You dipped your head ever so slightly taking it into your mouth, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

Tilting your hips, you picked up the pace and he began to meet you halfway, his fingers dug into your flesh surely leaving bruises. He hissed as your walls hugged him and you braced yourself with a hand on his chest. Your thigh began to throb again, the pain making its way to your face and he quickly flipped the two of you, making sure you landed without hurting you.

“I got you.” He continued with a harsh pace, holding your hips at an angle so he hit that spot again and again. With his free hand he began relentlessly circling your clit and you felt another climax building quick. The sound of both your ragged breaths and the slapping of skin against skin created a sickening chorus that sent you wild. You latched onto his bicep, feeling his strength and grasped at the sheets with the other hand. He knew you were close, he could see the muscles in your abdomen beginning to twitch and that look in your eye.

A few short pumps later and you came undone, Poe following close behind, he leant down, capturing you in a languid kiss. His hips still thrust into you as you both rode it out, spilling into you as you milked him. Your arms wrapped around his back, feeling the muscles contract. He panted slowing his movements, hot breath fanning over your face as you looked into each other's eyes. Pulling out of you, he moved from the bed and into the refresher, returning a few moments later with a warm towel. He parted your legs gently, cleaning you up, kissing your knee and thigh as he did. You pulled him up, bringing his lips to yours in a soft, loving kiss. He lay beside you, bringing your head to lie on his chest.

“I love you, you know that?” He whispered, voice rough. His fingers traced patterns on your shoulder as he kissed the top of your head. “You mean more to me than anything in the universe and I was scared today..” His other hand thumbed the ring around his neck, his mother’s ring. “I said I’d make things up to you and I meant that, and if you’ll have me…” He yanked the chain, freeing the band. “I’d be perfectly elated to make it up to you for the rest of my life.” 

His proposal was met with soft snores. You’d fallen fast asleep before he’d even started talking. ‘Of course you did’ he thought with a smile. Instead, he placed the ring on your finger, careful not to wake you and leant back against the pillows, content with the fact that you’d one day be his wife.

[wilhelmjfink]

Daryl Dixon Drabble #6 - pt 2

Sorry I can’t “read more” on my phone and it’s long! Will these two make up? Daryl, an emotional tightass? Prob not. We’ll see.

—

You’d never minded confrontation before. You couldn’t afford to fear it, really, with how frequently you’d opened your mouth and manage to say all the wrong things — case and point — and almost always found yourself too stubborn to apologize and instead would escalate the situation until you and whomever you’d been arguing with were toe to toe in a shouting match, only to be broken up by a third party usually before it got physical. Usually.

But then, you’d only ever been the one to throw the first punch. This whole scenario was new — being on the receiving end of someone’s anger and escalating them until they snapped first. You’d always known to simply hit back, right? What did that mean for you then and there, still laying on the cold grass perched up on your elbows, watching as Daryl disappeared into the night?

You were shaking — you usually did when things got heated. Didn’t particularly matter who it was with, either, but this time felt different. It felt wrong.

Pulling yourself to your feet you brushed the dirt off of your jeans, wiping your sweaty palms against the fabric on your thighs, and gently prodded at the newly tender spot around your tailbone that was sure to bruise. Not horribly, but enough to remind you about this night for at least the coming week.

Daryl had disappeared completely. All you could hear was the crackling of the fire and some spring peepers in the distance; formerly a peaceful and reassuring sound. Not now, though — not as long as you stood there stupidly staring into the distance, fighting the anxiety that was filling your chest. Where had he gone? The moon was high in the sky, a glowing silver crescent that gave you little natural light, but you knew Daryl didn’t really even need it. He would navigate the terrain with skill and precision as if he’d lived his whole entire life on this god damn farm.

Your machete was strapped to your thigh in its rightful spot, as it always was, and it would be better to keep quiet anyway. Certainly your shouting had alerted your presence to any walker on the property, and even with the wine still in your blood and the adrenaline that was still threatening to kill your buzz, you were on high alert as you jogged to the tree line with a newly found sense of determination. Hopefully the makeshift fencing along the outskirts of the property served its purpose in keeping any stragglers out.

In the darkness you’d have to rely on your ears and go with your gut feelings, and then simply hope that would be enough. You’d found yourself in similar situations before — even recently, searching for the little girl sun up to sun down, but at least you’d had Daryl to follow then. The first stretch of woods wasn’t as deep as it was narrow, so hopefully you would be able to sneak through it and come out on the field without issue. Outside of that we’re the traps and electrical fence that lined the perimeter of the farm, and Daryl wasn’t stupid enough to venture further than that.

The foliage was high this time of year, thick with green leaves and fallen sticks that crunched beneath your feet. As far as you could tell with each step that lead you further and further into the woods, you were unsettlingly alone in the thick darkness, which was somehow both a comfort and a concern that threatened to nag you until you either found Daryl or hung around long enough to see the sun begin to rise. You had no idea how long either option would take, so you pressed on with a hope that maybe your eyes would adjust better and you’d maybe even be able to impress Daryl with your nocturnal tracking skills... if you could find him.

Even in the near-pitch-black of night you could feel your head swimming slightly, the lingering effects of alcohol disorienting you, threatening to dull your senses even more. As the adrenaline wore off, the more your buzz returned. If you could see, your world would certainly be teetering slightly beneath your feet, rocking you like a rowboat.

It was eerily silent, the fire now a faded ball of flickering light in the far distance and the peepers and crickets having silenced their chirping upon your presence. Of course, Daryl was so skilled that he strode through the brush with a hunters tread so silent that not even the insects beneath his boots had noticed him. He would have that advantage on you, surely, but even if he heard you coming, you knew that he was far too adept to mistake you for a walker and shoot you.

Although, you thought to yourself, that didn’t necessarily mean that he wouldn’t try to hurt you, did it?

The idea of Daryl laying his hands on you in that way had never once crossed your mind — admittedly, it had under vastly different circumstances — but to give as far as shove you was something you’d never even considered. He’d only ever touched you with a harsh grip when he threw you behind himself protectively in the face of danger, or when he cleaned and dressed a wound you’d sustained with lingering fear and adrenaline in his system. It was only ever with good intentions; his ferocity contradicting the way his touch was surpringly gentle and warm. It wasn’t like that this time. And it was that realization that had you stopping in your tracks and trying to withstand the sheer force that the sudden guilt hit you with.

You had crossed a line. Fuck that — you had gotten a running start and leapt over that line like it was the long jump test in high school gym class. The worst part? You’d known that was a low blow. In your head, you’d briefly acknowledged that your words were going to hurt him in some way and you’d spat them out anyway. Just like you always did, and undoubtedly would continue to do as long as walked the earth, you’d said just the right wrong thing and driven the other person to crack. And, yeah — you’d both been drinking and both had loose tongues to begin with, but it was irrefutable that you’d gone too far this time if his initial response was to physically shove you away from him.

Exhaling a a long breath and trying to steady yourself you needed to gather your bearings before pressing on. The quick snapping of a twig somewhere nearby had you planting your boot back down firmly onto the ground, and your hand instinctively going to the handle of your machete. You listened intently, holding your breath, eyes striving to see in the darkness around you for any sign of movement, but everything even felt still. Dark, silent, and still.

You swallowed hard. “Daryl?” There was absolutely no way he could’ve heard you squeak his name out — you hardly heard it yourself. You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to try again just as you were thrown off your feet and down to the ground on your hands and knees, a heavy mass pinning you down from behind.

Now, with your adrenaline once again soaring and your senses heightened in panic, you could hear the low growling of the walker on your back. You thrashed beneath it and briefly wondered if you were thrown into water with how heavy your limbs felt and how muffled it’s groaning sounded despite being so close to your ears. While you summoned all your strength to hoist yourself back upright, straightening your arms in an attempt to shake him off like a bucking bronco would a cowboy, it occurred to you that you’d dropped your machete in the fall.

At least now you’d managed to get onto your knees instead of sprawled face down helplessly in the dirt, but the walker was relentless, it’s bony fingers already intertwined into your ponytail and yanking painfully as it tried to right itself. It’s jaw snapped hungrily, what remained of its rotted teeth clicking against eachother as it tried once again to throw its body weight at you.

You’d manage to spin around just as it tumbled forward into you, knocking you from your knees on to your back with the walker now hugging you, a clear view of its grey skin and yellow eyes. Straddling you, leaning into your forearm that trembled weakly while supporting its weight above you, sheer panic and adrenaline keeping it pressed against its decayed chest and its mouth away from your neck. Tears blurred your vision. Your mind reeled desperately, screaming at you to find your knife, to get your shit together, to overcome this walker that latched onto any piece of you it could grasp despite you throwing elbows at it and shoving your shoulders into it and kicking your legs out to absolutely no prevail and you’re going to die here, you’re going to fucking die here, you’re going to —

It collapsed on you, dead weight, and everything was suddenly still and silent once again.

All you could hear was the pounding of your heart in your ears as it mocked your racing pulse, struggling to breathe easy with your chest crushed beneath some combination of the corpse and panic. It didn’t move, it didn’t make a sound — but you lay still in fear of stirring it awake or somehow bringing it back to life while your brain sluggishly tried to catch up with the events that had just happened.

However long it was that you laid there on the ground, paralyzed in fear, you would never be able to tell — minutes, hours, seconds you were sure — it both somehow drug by agonizingly slow yet when you blinked next the weight had rolled off of you and you shot upright with a gasping breath, taking in oxygen you hadn’t even been aware had been withheld from you.

Your mouth was dry and you panted like a dog and your brain was shouting at you to run, but another pair of disembodied hands from within the darkness reached out and grasped onto your shoulders, drawing a terrified scream from your own lips that echoed through the night, against your better judgment to keep quiet. It had you held in place before you could even get to your feet.

“Hey, hey! Hey!”

You froze.

We’re you that drunk? Or, did you maybe die? And this was some sort of hell where walkers could speak while they ate you alive?

“S’just me. Calm down.”

Of course it was Daryl. Of course, he’d managed to come rescue you like a knight in shining armor after you managed to get yourself in a stupid situation that could’ve been easily avoided if you’d just stopped to think every once in awhile. And though your cheeks flooded with embarrassment and shame, you couldn’t deny the relief that filled your veins like a drug, because technically, you had found him. Which was all you wanted in the first place anyway, right?

“Shit,” you exhaled breathlessly, allowing yourself to relax again while you struggled to straighten your thoughts out. “Daryl, I—“

“What in the hell’s the matter with ya?” He whispered harshly, voice still sharp enough to make you flinch with each syllable. “Runnin’ around in the fuckin’ woods in the middle of the night. You gotta fuckin’ death wish or somethin’?”

You blinked. “I... I needed to find you—“

“No,” he cut you off furiously and you swore you could feel the heat of his anger radiating off of his body; somehow still enticing despite his demeanor. “Ya don’t ever fuckin’ come after me, ya hear me?”

“But I—“

“But nothin’! Ya don’t ever put yourself in danger, ‘specially not for me. What if I hadn’t been nearby? What if —“

“Daryl!” Between the two of you, you supposed you’d already made enough noise that you shouting wouldn’t make much of a difference anymore. “Let me talk!”

He stiffened, but shut his mouth. And even through the darkness of night you could still sense how worked up he was, how rapidly he was breathing, how warmth still radiated from his sweat-coated skin that was so unnaturally close to your own body that, between that and the fact that you’d never really even resolved your internal conflict and rehearsed some choreographed apology like you normally would have, you found that words had failed you completely. And you were silent.

Averting your gaze you sighed, hands absentmindedly playing with the grass beneath your fingertips until Daryl stood and, grabbing you by those hands, hoisted you to your feet. With a surprisingly gentle shove between your shoulders, he got you walking toward the camp, defeated.

Although you remained on high alert, adrenaline just started to ebb away slowly, you couldn’t help but watch Daryl from your peripherals throughout the short trek back. You knew that he would be aware of any walkers or potential threats that you obviously couldn’t see or hear yourself in the environment that you were in; not to mention you were already at a disadvantage. You tried so hard to read him, to feel what he was feeling and gauge his behavior and actions but he was, as always, shut away. An exciting cliffhanger that still managed to engulf your entire world within a chapter of a book you’d already read a hundred times. And you weren’t sure if you would ever figure him out — but damn if you weren’t going to try.

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

If You Give a Cat A Bone(doggle) || Morgan and Kaden

TIMING: Before Constance was yeeted forever LOCATION: The woods PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Morgan and Kaden take Anya the cat for a walk and make friends. Sort of. 

Walking cats always looked kind of funny compared to dogs. Probably because most didn’t put up with it long enough to bother. There was something charming about it, though. And there was something nice and grounding about walking with Morgan and Anya around the East End. Especially on a Sunday. Kaden was sure Abel would be jealous that he didn’t get to come but he had a feeling Anya wouldn’t love his dog as much as his dog would love the cat. “I’m still impressed you got her leash trained,” Kaden told his friend as they walked. There were so many topics he just didn’t want to touch. Not right now at least, not in public. Distractions were better anyway. Like she was deciding to test his compliment, Anya started pulling on the leash, darting after something in the distance, probably a rodent of some sort, maybe a lagomorph. “She might be worse at walking but she’s definitely better at hunting than Abel.”

Morgan laughed dry in her chest. “Oh, this is all Anya’s spirit doing the work,” she said. “You should see her when she actually--” Likes me, is what she was going to say. Because it was almost eight months since she’d been impaled by the side of the road and Anya still, at best, only tolerated her presence. At this point, she was more Deirdre’s companion than Morgan’s, perching on the banshee’s lap, trailing behind her when she went to any of the rooms in the house, and glaring at anyone who she thought infringed upon her time with her. Granted, Anya no longer attacked or hissed at Morgan whenever she walked into the room. Sometimes she would sit in such a way that her paws touched Morgan’s leg while the rest of her lounged against Deirdre, and Morgan would press back just a little so she could feel her leathery toe beans just a little better and feel so fucking grateful. It was hard not to be bitter at such a small allowance of affection when Morgan used to be the one she clung to and protected.

It wasn’t much of a surprise when the cat bolted out of her grip.

Morgan swore and took chase. “She’s good when she’s not permanently pissed off I died,” she grumbled. “Anya! Anya!” Stupid cat. If Morgan was still a witch, she could borrow her eyes and see where the hell she was running off to, but no. That would be too easy. “Help me look?” She called.

Kaden would, she knew, but it never hurt to ask.

They followed Anya’s trail away from the park and near the woods that surrounded Strawford. She wasn’t exactly being subtle, just a little shit. A hiss rattled through the air. “Someone’s pissy,” she said, unimpressed. Maybe her prize squirrel had climbed too high up a tree, maybe she’d got herself stuck on something, and-- “Oh, shit.” Or maybe she had decided to pick a fight with a bone critter Morgan had never seen before.

Kaden saw the leash slipping from her grip and lunged to grab it before the cat could bolt off, but it was too late. Goddamnit. “Putain de merde,” he grumbled to himself. Of course he was chasing a cat. On his day off, too. He took off after the cat before saying another word, he didn’t even look to check if Morgan was running with him or not. “What do you think I’m doing?” he shouted back at her. “And what do you mean pissed off that you died? She’s--” That was stupid. He knew damn well animals had personality and opinions. That wasn’t his question. His real question was why were they walking the disagreeable cat? Catching cats was a pain in the ass. Catching disagreeable cats was something close to hell. Thankfully, she was easy enough to follow, probably because the leash was slowing her down. Not enough for him to grab it, unfortunately.

His arm shot out in front of Morgan to hold her back. He didn’t even hear the hiss, didn’t see the cat’s hairs stand on edge. What he did see was the fucking bonedoggle across from them, growling at the cat. Shit. Fucking shit. Anya had a squirrel and was swatting at the bonedoggle to stay away. He pulled out a knife and slowly crept towards the monster. He just had to get between the cat and the creature. “Get Anya,” he said to the zombie sharply. He threw himself at the monster, hoping he could distract it from the bones. Easier said than done.

“Well if you had a magic connection with someone and they broke it one day and turned up smelling wrong, you’d probably be pissed too,” Morgan huffed. “She was my familiar, Kaden.” As much as she hated losing the one best friend she’d assumed she could count on in her death, Morgan got it. There wasn’t an abundance of hard theory on familiar connections, but her tie to Anya had been at least somewhat emotional as well as metaphysical. Which meant whatever it really felt like when she died, Anya suffered something like it too. And if losing a magic connection was anything like losing magic itself… yeah, might as well blame the lady dumb enough to fuck it up and come back different. Not like they could talk it out.

She didn’t understand Kaden’s plan to divide and conquer. On the one hand, the critter looked pretty angry, on the other hand, it was kind of...a dog? A maybe-demon dog? Couldn’t they tackle it together, maybe take some bones back as souvenirs?

She should have listened. Kaden lunged to wrestle the creature and Anya saw a chance to assert her dominance. She lunged, faster than Morgan could catch her, and scrabbled her claws around the creature’s side, trying to tear into it. Morgan ran to pull her off but the creature, still wrestling with Kaden, thrashed. The black cat yowled. “Anya!” The cat flew off, claws flexed, and crashed into Morgan, who bundled her up in her arms. “Why are you such a stupid, stubborn cat?” She whispered. Anya flailed, still ready to fight for her pride. Whatever this critter was, they needed to get rid of it. Morgan jumped to her feet and put her body between Anya and the demon-bone-dog. “How do we make that thing go away?” She asked.

Kaden didn’t know shit about magic and familiars, not really. He knew what they were, sure, but not on the deep level that the former witch did. He’d never really understand. But the plan was clear enough. Didn’t matter right now. He might not understand shit about magic, but he understood bonedoggles. And how fucked they were right about now. Before Kaden had much chance to try and find a clean spot to shove his knife through the creature, the cat had lunged at it. “No!” he shouted. Fucking hell. He didn’t need the cat getting stuck to the goodman monster. Instead of attacking, he reached out for the flailing cat and caught a lot of claws. The bonedoggle wasn’t interested in engaging with the humans, it lunged out, teeth bared and snarling at the carcass in question. There was nothing going to get in the way of the monster and its bones, not even a hunter. It barreled into him and knocked him to his knees. Kaden cursed, but lashed out with the knife as the monster darted past him. All he managed was to scrape the blade across the bone armor covering the creature.

Kaden saw the monster unhinge its jaw, ready to bring its teeth down and around Anya's sides. His eyes went wide, he didn’t wait for Morgan to step in, he just threw himself into the monster’s side, pushing it aside. And he felt his shirt get stuck to the fucking side of the monster. Shit, shit, shit. He pulled his arm back, his shirt tearing away at the sleeve. The bonedoggle turned and faced him, growling, spit spewing and ready to tear into the hunter, possibly take his bones for its collection. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he had to get away and he couldn’t count on his knife right now. His palm dug into the dirt beneath him. Dirt. He took a handful and threw it at the monster’s face, temporarily blinding it. Kaden scrambled to his feet and back to Morgan. “Killing it might help!” Anya seemed to agree, the cat was doing everything in its power to claw the bonedoggle’s eyes out. “Its spit is like fucking glue so don’t let--” The fucking cat was getting near the goddamn monster again. Putain.

“Like GLUE?” Morgan shrieked. There was no time to process; the bone monster was already thrashing its head, trying to throw Anya off. “Shit, shit, shit…” She dove for the creature, clinging to it with all she had. Her legs were too short to reach all the way around something that big, but she dug in with her thighs and clamped her arms around its snout, forcing its jaw shut. Anya’s eyes met hers, steady and inquisitive. What are you doing? Morgan couldn’t tell if she was judging her or not, but she clenched her muscles around the creature’s jaw harder. “Anya, off!” She barked.

Anya glared. She tore her paw across the creature’s face, cracking one of the bones at last and leapt off, making a dive for her decayed squirrel corpse and running into the bushes with it.

“So, about killing it?” Morgan cried. She couldn’t see Kaden from here. The creature was bucking and thrashing harder than ever and she didn’t want to know what would happen if it slobbered on her hand. “There’s not a chance we can just play fetch with this guy and make a run for it is there?” The creature grunted and smacked onto the ground, trying to throw her off next. Morgan grunted as her bones bent into her organs. “Maybe you should just do your thing! Before my bones liquify!”

“Once a bonedoggle is after a bone, it doesn’t like to just fucking drop it,” Kaden said, about to throw himself at the monster. Didn’t get a fucking chance, Morgan was already there. Okay, he just had to find an opening, a weak spot. Take it down. “And I think the same fucking thing can be said for your cat.” It was possible she was a more tenacious hunter than his dog. The one he got to help him hunt. Putain de merde. “Hold on a little longer!” he shouted. It was handy that Morgan was damn near indestructible. Almost. Still not quite. He didn’t want to risk her life for too long; even zombie bodies hit a breaking point. He didn’t want the bonedoggle to find it. He wasn’t sure he could handle that. Still, it looked like she had a pretty damn good handle on the monster. Hell, it was impressive and of itself.

Right, Kaden didn’t have time to appreciate her hunting methods. He flipped his knife over in his hands and threw himself towards the creature as it rolled on the ground. His knees dug into the monster’s back legs, pinning it in place. She just needed to hold onto its muzzle one second longer. His knife plunged down into the creature’s exposed belly, tearing through and ripping open its guts. Death would come soon. But not fast enough. The bonedoggle’s face broke free from the zombie’s grip and saliva went flying. Kaden’s arm shot up to shield his face, ducking away and shutting his eyes tight. Putain de fucking merde.

Morgan crashed to the ground flat on her face. She could hear the critter snarling and slobbering as it died. She curled up on herself as much as she could, ignoring the terrible angle of the arms she’d landed on. Then it was quiet, and Morgan couldn’t move her fingers as she struggled to sit up. Most of the critter’s saliva landed on her sweater, but enough had fallen on her fingers to clump them together. She picked herself up, wincing as her bones righted themselves, and pulled off her sweater before anything else could turn sticky. “Are you okay?” She called to Kaden. “I could use that knife of yours, if you’re in one piece.” She held out her stuck, scrunched up hand. “You don’t have to watch them grow back, I’d just really like to be able to use them again.” She looked around the underbrush and saw Anya’s bright eyes peeking out, her squirrel clutched in her mouth by its neck. She padded out and sat in front of Morgan sniffing her with care before brushing her head against her knee. “This is all your fault, you know,” she said, but there was no malice in her voice. She hadn’t seen the sly smile of her cat’s mouth in profile in so long, she almost didn’t mind all the trouble it had cost. “Thank you,” she said to Kaden again. “You saved me and my favorite brat.”

“I’m alright,” Kaden said before even properly assessing the situation. He checked and found out the folds of his shirt was glued to his jacket. He sighed. “My clothing, not so much.” He should stop getting attached to any article of clothing. He should know better. But he’d liked this shirt. Oh well. Kaden had just watched her bones twist and her body catort into positions no standard body should. Even then, he tilted his head and furrowed his brow at her ask for his knife. “Are you going to cut in between your skin? That’s not--” Then it hit him that she’d be just fine. She’d regenerate. “Right,” he said and handed over the knife. He didn’t really want to watch but he supposed it didn’t really matter and watched anyway. She’d said something before about her body being a fact and she had a point. He should probably just treat it that way. As hard as it was to just accept the wings at first, it would have been a hell of a lot easier if he’d accepted Bea’s advice to treat them as a fact. The problem was, of course, that those facts clashed with so many lessons taught to him as fact growing up; lessons he still hadn’t properly reconciled. He wasn’t sure he’d ever manage to.

Seeing her reunited with her cat brought a smile to Kaden’s face. It made it easy to forget the regrown fingers and the bonedoggle carcass piled a few feet away. “Don’t mention it,” he said, reaching out to see if Anya would let him pet her. No offense either way, cats could be particular. “Just doing my job.” It was the reason he really did like working in animal control, moments like this, when people and animals could be safe and sound even if it didn’t last.

Morgan gave Kaden a double take to make sure he really wasn’t going to look away. She wrinkled her face up in a universal signal of ‘are you sure?’ before bringing the blade down as quickly as she could. She winced and looked away as her old fingers tumbled into the grass. She was getting used to the regrowth by now, but watching pieces of her fall away, useless, no longer a part of anything or anyone. She whimpered with pain and watched as new bones sprouted and coated with sninew and blood. Morgan flexed them, testing her grip and her nerves. They always felt the same, no farther or closer to living sensations than before.

Anya sniffed the new fingers and scraped her mouth across them, tail upright and perky. If anything from the past few minutes had bothered her, it didn’t anymore. Curious, she moved onto Kaden, giving him a once over and a long, steady look before she decided he was good enough for one pet across her fur.

“Just doing your job, huh, cowboy? Do you say that to all the damsels in distress you rescue?” Morgan laughed and guided Anya back into her lap, fixing her harness and leash. “If you come back round to the ranch, I’m sure I can rustle you up some pie to show my gratitude.” She put on her best Texas drawl for him and got to her feet, Anya now safely in tow with her prize. To Morgan’s surprise, she rubbed against her leg and looked up with an expression that was almost friendly.

Kaden didn’t want to gawk at the oddities of her body as it was and he flinched a little as he watched, but he had decided not to look away. And so he didn’t. It was the only way to deal with it. Not unlike pain. The more you were exposed to it, the easier it was to handle. Training taught him that much. Probably not how his mother would prefer he applied his training. Too fucking late. She was more than dead and buried now. She didn’t even exist. Right. He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse to keep his eyes on her newly grown fingers or the dead ones that the cat was planning to chew on.

“How, uh, how does pain work? For you?” Kaden asked, before quickly second guessing himself. “I mean. If you don’t mind me asking. I just. I-- I mean, I saw you now and you--- I just was curious.” He rubbed the back of his neck and felt like a fucking asshole. Like he was being insensitive or something. “You don’t have to answer that. Sorry. That was stupid. You--” He couldn’t even finish his thought and just took the knife back and wiped it clean on the grass and then the hem of his shirt before putting it away. At least he got to pet the cat. It wasn’t long or much (he expected nothing more, to be honest), but it still was enough to bring his heart rate back slower, steadier.

“Very funny,” Kaden answered, rolling his eyes. Wouldn’t lie, he appreciated the brief moment of levity. The weight was still there, but it was a little lighter. “Normally I only do one or the other. Rescue the cat or fight the monster. This was a great two for one deal. I think that earned me two pies.” Not that he needed any more baked goods in his apartment. It was more than enough work to give them all away half the time.

“It’s different,” Morgan said. “I mean, that hurt, and I’ve always been an awful cry-baby. My mother always said so. But it’s not, uh, proportionate, to the way humans would reckon it. And I don’t get to feel anything too gentle, so sometimes, in the right context, a little hurt can feel nice. I guess if I had to rank it, that’s something like a four or a five? But for you, losing an extremity would be a lot closer to ten, right?” She shrugged and wiped the corners of her eyes. “It’s okay, Kaden. I’d rather you ask than wonder or lean on whatever’s in your hunting manuals, if that’s even a thing.”

Morgan’s expression grew warmer. “Well I declare, officer! I think you might be right. But only ‘cause you’re such a good friend. I’ve got mama’s pecan pie on the stove right now, and I’ll let the second one be hero’s choice.” She laughed and beckoned him over. She hadn’t expected much out of the day, but for an outing that involved full-ass monster wrestling, this was pretty okay.

“Right. Good, uh, I mean thanks. For, you know.” Kaden said, nodding along as he listened. It was a far cry from “zombies are dead, they can’t feel anything.” Part of him anticipated that much by now though a piece of him still felt the chill of the shadow of his training. It wasn’t all entirely wrong, just sometimes taken too extreme. Sometimes not. Finding where the line was wouldn’t be an easy one, not from what he could tell. If he even wanted to redraw the line. It was possible he was still surrounded by exceptions. Only time would tell. “Pain’s sort of on a weird scale for me. Not, uh… I mean not like yours. I don’t think. But you know. Hunter. Training. That.” He wiped the dirt and grime he could away from his jacket and jeans. “I don’t know if I’d know a ten when it happened. Or ever call it that.” Most of him had stopped trying to sort the good and bad of his training and just accept it for what it was.Sometimes he wondered all the same.

“Is this where I say ‘no need, little lady’? Or something to that effect?” His attempts at mimicking her current accent didn’t quite sound right. Even he knew that. He laughed at himself a little. Only a little. “Anyway, I think it’s probably a good idea to get home before any more bonedoggles show up. And so Anya can’t make another break for it.”

[darksiderssin]

How do the horsemen react when their human s/o ,on a journey, all grim ridden takes a dip in a near by water source. Being no immediate danger and all. (Can be nsfw :) )

War: He'd noticed how uncomfortable you looked, being coated head to toe in dirt, and honestly felt a little bad about it, like he wasn't taking care of you properly- he wanted to preserve any human life he could find on what was left of your world, so it was natural that he felt bad not being able to even help you. Until, that is, you came across a large lake that looked safe by way of demonic activity or angelic patrols. A good place to camp for the night, you both decided- you with more enthusiasm. He'd gone off to hunt while you held down the fort (translation: took a bath). He came back to see you finishing up, honestly surprised when he saw you trying to clean your clothes in the buck- mind you, he loved you for your heart, but seeing you without the dirt and grime brought a tinge of red to the Red Rider's face. You noticed his presence when his shock made him drop the large Stalker corpse he'd brought back to eat, a little startled as you tried to cover yourself.

"Shit, I didn't notice you there, Red." You were blushing to the tips of your ears. "I'll, uh...I'll be done in a minute."

He shyly turned his eyes away. "...You look good."

You blinked at him, running a hand over your drying hair that had turned a few shades lighter after the wash as your face turned a few shades darker. "...Thanks." 

War took off the scarlet cowl around his shoulders and handed it to you in his golem hand. "Take this. While your clothes are drying." He tried to keep his eyes turned away as you took it, but it was obvious he was flustered. You honestly didn't think that was possible. He turned away and started to prepare his kill for dinner, trying to keep his back to you. After you'd cleaned the last of the grime out of your clothes, you wrapped the cowl around you and stepped over behind him, leaning over one colossal shoulder to peck his cheek.

"Thanks, Red."

Fury: The Black Horseman knew you'd left the camp to go and bathe, and so decided she'd go and check in on you, and maybe join you for a quick dip. She knew she'd find you naked, but she didn't expect you to look...better. She walked over to the lake to find you washing soaproot out of your hair and trying to untangle it using a hairbrush, which seemed painful from the way you grumbled and cursed as the bristles snagged on the knots, but damn, you were like a completely different person without the dirt- Fury could actually make out the colour of your hair and skin now, see your face, and all the small details on your body, from moles to marks and more- it was nice to just look at you from here, water still running down the contours of your form in rivulets. 

She smirked, leaning against the tree your clothes were hanging from. "Abyss, there's a person under the filth after all." 

You looked over at her, clearly unhappy with being interrupted from your much-needed grooming session. "Very funny," You grunted, continuing to force the knots out with the embattled brush. "But not helping."

Striding into the water, Fury took the brush from you, keeping that smirk as she took over the taming of your neglected locks. "Let me, Little Heart. Can't have you scalping yourself, now can we?" She pressed a patronising, but playful kiss to your head as you blushed, but you certainly didn't complain. 

Strife: You figured you'd show Strife ("Jones" as the others knew him by) your favourite little watering hole to clean up in while you were out on a supply run, making the argument that it would be a good place to stop and maybe scrub off whatever was caked onto your findings, the subtext suggesting that there was more to this jaunt than you were letting on. Of course, happy to have a moment alone with you, Strife agreed and followed you into the woods, and ended up at a lake a little bit north of town that seemed quiet enough. So he dropped the disguise, you both took your clothes off, and went splashing into the water together. The grime started to come away the more you played in the water, and then he was grinning for a different reason. 

"Damn, if you weren't already a snack," He remarked, biting his lip as his eyes wandered over your form. "I mean, you look great naked, but...wow."

You looked over at him with a smirk. "Jeez, at least wait 'til I'm dried off, Strife."

"I mean, I'm only gonna get you wet again." He joked. "So, not much point in that." And then you laughed, and he fell in love with you all over again as he pulled you into a kiss. Needless to say your return to Haven was...delayed.

Death: It was on the way up to the Drenchfort that the two of you came across a large pool of clear water, untouched by Corruption. It looked deep, and you were judging its depth when Death noticed that you'd taken an interest in this distraction. He would have spoken up to tell you to keep moving, but held his tongue when he made the connection that you were judging the depth of the water because of the state of you- half caked in mud and dust from head to toe. Ah. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to stop for a bit, he let you go and wash off the filth and he would probably go and talk to Vulgrim to give you some privacy in the meantime until conversation ran dry. Eventually Death had grown tired of Vulgrim and decided it was best to go and check on you, finding you naked and knee-deep in the water, washing your clothes while humming to yourself- he almost swore he was looking at a different person. He hadn't noticed the yellowing bruises and the cuts you'd tried to keep clean as best you could, some healing over into scars, and your skin and hair looked a shade lighter than it had been a moment ago. You looked better. Healthy. Death would have watched longer, had Dust not fluttered over to the shallows and started rolling around in the water and caused your gaze to snap to him over your shoulder. 

A dark blush rose on your face, and you tried to cover yourself with the sopping clothes. "Uh. Not a good time for laundry?" You attempted a smile, the gesture awkward.

Death shrugged and started shrugging off his attire as well, and you were too shocked to yell at him. He arched a brow at you. "You keep saying I smell. I might as well join you."

"B-but the Drenchfort--"

He held up a hand to silence you as he started to wade into the water, chuckling as you looked away. "It can wait." He set his hands on your shoulders. "It's not nice to tease, Cherished."

[hackink]

Step Dad

A short story

I hear thrashing and screaming, I yearned for it to end, never did. That quite sucks not gonna lie.

I'm the big one, it's like I'm the chosen one in my family, could be both good or bad. I've got to take care of my siblings, like all the time. The big responsibilities always point in my direction. It's not all bad, I do have my fair share of fun. But for that same reason, I must set a good example. I can't really act the way I wanna most of the time, usually I've make-up on my face, covering the skin before it. It's kinda complicated.

This one time, my parents came into my room, they introduced me to someone, he was a tall white man, and was fairly well clothed. He was wearing these really nice shoes, and had a suit on that looked like it cost buck. I shook his big hand, it felt soft, and a bit warming. We talked for about 30 minutes, he was a fairly nice person, and my parents seemed to like him as well.

After that time was over, my dad went to the room, and grabbed some suitcases out from the closet, as he rolled them by, I felt my heart drop. They explained everything.

Quickly, I put my make-up on, before it was too late, it was. Once I saw my little brother and sister hugging the leg of my dad, begging him to stay, I washed it off naturally. 'Who is he to take the place of my dad?' This thought lingered in my head that night, I took some sleeping pills.

I avoided the man, I didn't want to talk to him, if I saw my mother close to him, I'd turn my head, cause I know how violent I can get. There was this one time, where I walked into the kitchen to get a snack, was playing Minecraft with my siblings, and there I saw the two, hugging and kissing. I, at that moment, remembered how my dad taught me to drive, how he taught me to build a nice dog house for our pet dog, which had died upon my dad's exit. I remembered every single second I spent with my father, the amazing role model he was, and snapped.

Back in the 8th grade, one of my good friends was playing bloody knuckles with someone. He totaled him. He then turned to me, and held his fist up, I didn't last two punches. He told me to start punching the walls at home, bit by bit, so that it wouldn't hurt and my fists would become stronger. In two months' time, my knuckles along with my punches, had become stronger than most boys in my school. I beat my friend, the only time I did too, cause he trained after that as well, and became much better than me. Though, I did beat just about anyone in school at bloody knuckles.

I clenched my fist, and I dropped my phone. This man was innocent, I just hated the fact that he wanted to replace the man who could never be replaced, ever. I felt like letting him know. I had never punched anything as hard as I could, since it'd probably be the end of my fist, but boy do I gotta say his cheek was soft. He fell to the ground and hit the stove with his head, my mom started to scream and push me back, each little shove she gave me, let me know how much she liked this man. They all hurt. I hadn't seen her do that with my dad in the past year, and he gets to do it in the first week? I couldn't settle with that, I ran out the house, and went to my grandma's house, where I began punching the tree in order to not break down in tears.

She gave me some hot cocoa, and let me spend the night there. She felt like she always had, like my grandma, so I felt comfortable, silently I sobbed. The next morning I got up and took a shower, my hands had a bunch of wounds in them from punching the tree bare fisted, and they really hurt to clean. They were also shaking, 'maybe I cracked a bone or something?' I didn't really care, my adrenaline wasn't going down anytime soon.

I was taking a jog outside around the house to clear my mind, when I see a tall man, with some really nice shoes, and a bruise on his cheek come by. 'Your mother sent me to get you.' I ignored him, for his sake. He sat down in a chair, and patted next to him, signaling for me to take a seat. I was thinking it was a bad pun, was he here to mock me? His face was so infuriating, the fact that it wasn't six feet under was pissing me off. On my next lap around the house, I kicked his chair over, his suit looked expensive. He smiled and chuckled, 'kids these days are quite funny.' Why? He must be a psycho, my reaction would be to get mad, or confused at least!

He began to jog alongside me, this man was starting to tick me off big time. I stopped running, grabbed his tie, and said 'Get out, and I mean out, you lay another finger on my mom and I'll kill you!' I tripped him, and continued my jog. I'd feel guilty, but I can't for someone who got my father kicked out of the house, nobody deserves to live after screwing with my family.

I returned home later that day, still a tad hesitant because of the incidents the day prior. My mom asked me to help her cook, she was making shrimp. She gave me the basic rundown of what she had going, and started cutting vegetables off to the side, we started talking about the usual, how much I annoyed her, and how my siblings were idiots. I hear the door open, and I get ready for disappointment, 'Hello everybody!!' it's a... playful voice?

'Where's my food you peasants?' My eyes lighten up, followed by tears. I rush over to hug my dad, started to sob in his arms. He had a black bag, that had chips in it, he always brought chips back home from time to time. He lied it down on the table, and not long after, my siblings came running and crying. 'Dad why did you leave!?' My little brother cried as he hugged him, my sister on the other side. I felt a sense of family, something I haven't felt in a long time. Through the open door walked a other entity, the tall man. I then snapped back into life, and became a bit sad that I wasn't seeing my dad every day, or that he wasn't showing me something. I didn't feed him, I let him eat a microwaved frozen food, I could not give a damn about his existence. Well, that's a lie, I'd prefer if he was gone.

A couple weeks went by, I was kinda getting used to ignoring the tall man in my house. One good thing is that I never saw him getting intimate with my mom. Could've been good or bad, cause I couldn't punch him, bummer. He was always at work, your typical nine to five corporate slave. So when he was gone, I'd spend time normally with my family. I video chatted my dad every day or two, and just talked about life, sometimes he'd show me how to wood work via video chat. I could live with this.

One day, he came back with a few boxes in his hands, and a letter, or at least that's what it looked like. He opened the boxes in front of my sister and brother, as well as my mom and I. Inside the link box, there was a super high quality drawling tablet, the exact one that my sister always wanted, and cracked jokes about. She took it and ran to her room to use it. In the blue box, there was this laptop, one that my little brother was talking about gettjng for ages, and wouldn't shut up about how good it was. He said thank you and ran to his room to use it. I was pissed, he was trying to buy us into liking him, and it was seeming to be quite effective. He opened a my box, it was keys to a car, specifically the car I always told my dad I was going to get when I got money, and got us out of this house, into a nice house. He always said he was gonna buy it for me, I felt conflicted.

'I know we've had our ups and downs, but I really do want to get along with you as my child, or maybe even just a friend.' I saw my mom out of the corner of my eye, she was tearing up, of happiness. I came back to my senses, and went back to my room, slammed the door shut. I knew I had let my mother down, there were like twenty different emotions circulating through me, they were wreaking havoc. I began to punch the walls, I started screaming, it was probably audible from miles away. I felt weird, something I had never felt before. It didn't seem healthy, but I didn't care. This feeling was new to me, I felt like dying over and over, but even then, that might've not been enough to suppress the pain. I remember thinking to myself, 'I'm gonna kill him, he will die!'

That night, I asked him to come talk to me outside. He looked excited. We went outside, and I took him to the back of the house. I had an itch on my lower back. 'So, what's up?' I didn't reply. 'You're uh, quite the mysterious one aren't you?' He chuckled a bit to himself, I didn't move a muscle. He began to talk about what he had for the future, how he was gonna move us out in like a month, and buy us everything we wanted. 'That's what my dad's gonna do.' I mumbled quietly. 'I beg your pardon?' He replied. I couldn't take it anymore. 'My dad's gonna buy us a house, he's gonna move us out!' I pulled out the pocket knife from the back of my pants and stabbed him in the chest.

His blood came rushing out shortly, I began to scream and cry, 'You will never be my dad!' I stabbed him time and time again, he didn't move after a while. My dad walked up behind me and patted me on the back, along with my mother, sister, and little brother. We spit on him together, and we started to chant, it was a happy chant. We danced around his corpse. I started to sweat intensely, my family began to fade away, still chanting, it turned louder and louder. They began to float away, I dropped to my knees, and the tall man was laughing at me, he pointed and laughed. I started to laugh, with tears running down my face, I took the knife and pointed it at me, that's when I heard the voice. 'Wake up! Jesus Christ you've been sleeping all morning!'

My mom woke me up, I got up and went to the table. I got a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and began to eat. My mom walked outside and began to talk to my aunt, 'So, I was able to get this puppy sold for about $150!' I overheard some of their conversation, I wanted a puppy. My dad walked in with a bag, 'Hello my dear children! I am awesome for I have brought the goodies!' I look inside the bag, and tell him that he forgot my hot chips. He quickly runs outside. I take the bag over to my sister and brother, where they get their bag of chips, and start munching away. Once I finish my cereal, I get ready for school. I brush my teeth, and put on a sweater. My mom passes by me on the phone with her sister, talking about something, I couldn't quite catch it. As I open the door, I see my dad chasing after my baby sister, who's face is covered in mud, and laughing away. 'I'm gonna brush your hair so hard!' He yells at her, I giggle to myself. My aunt is outside my house, playing jump rope with my cousin. I wonder who's winning. My sister walks past me, and looks at me. 'Another bad dream?' she asks. 'Yea, this one was hectic.'

[asgardianthot]

Aftercare (Steve/Bucky)

Dom/sub aftercare, angst

summary: Steve takes care of his sub, no matter how reluctant he is to it.

word count: 2996

warnings: mentions of BDSM (previous to the scenario), one unintended injury

Steve Rogers was known for many things, but kinky wasn’t one of them…

…one of the things people knew about him, that is, keeping in mind how he’d been working me with chains, spanking me and fucking the living breath out of me for the past hour.

Even though we’d both caught our breaths, I was left devastated on the bed, laying on my stomach as my bare ass was still heated red. I could have moved, probably, but taking in mind my recent submission and dedication, I believed I deserved to act as a ragdoll. So did Steve, who was already retrieving the soothing lotion and rambling about getting me some water or whatever.

“You okay?” he asked for the seventh time.

I sighed from exhaustion, given both by my sore body, and by his insistent question. No, I wasn’t perfectly fine, my back and arms were slightly hurting, my ass and butt cheeks were killing me, the marks left by the handcuffs in my flesh hand were burning, I had a small cut on my lip from biting on it that wasn’t majorly uncomfortable but I could still taste the iron in my mouth, and everything felt as if I’d ran a marathon. However, I wasn’t dying, he hadn’t done anything more than he’d done before and I had already answered to his question the other six times.

Plus, it’s what I loved more than anything. Being roughed up by Steve.

“I’ll have that water.” I mumbled, merely for him to shut up about it.

He nodded with a small smile, rushing to the bathroom to get me what I had seen myself forced to ask for. He came back with his boxer briefs on, still allowing me to stare at his sculpted body, glistening with the lingering of sweat sticking, and I thought to myself it wasn’t too much of a bad view to die looking at.

“Here.” He sat down on the bed where I propped myself on my elbow to drink from his a glass held by his hand, making myself useless.

I stared into his eyes while sipping it at first, thanking him with my gaze, then focused on gulping the water down as I was desert-like thirsty and hadn’t realized it before. Once I was finished, I fell back on my side with a loud puff of air.

“Better?” Steve’s puppy eyes smiled down at me while his hand, one that had been choking me minutes earlier, was now caressing my shoulder with extreme care.

A small grin made its way into my face although I was doing no effort to conceal my tired eyes. So I just closed them and nodded, practically getting ready to take a nap before Steve started to kiss my cheekbone over and over again, with the cutest caring pecks a grown man is able to give. I enjoyed the moment for as long as it went on, until he stopped to check the red marks on my ass.

“Looks painful.” He commented when his palm grazed the irritated skin, and I knew he was hinting the possibility of putting some lotion on it.

“It’s fine.” I groaned, then motioned behind me by tilting my head a little. “My back’s not, though.”

It was meant to be a witty comment, even if there was some truth to it. The sore feeling in my ass and cheeks wouldn’t even become bruises, and I had probably mildly bruised skin somewhere in my body, but the scratches on my back meant my flesh was exposed and therefore the feeling was a bit worse at that specific moment.

Steve hovered over me to check, immediately standing up to circle the bed and examine me from behind. “Damn, I’m sorry.” He said in a low voice, not really feeling overwhelming guilt, to be candid.

His fingertips ran through the red trails, the burning sensation immediate but bearable. The Captain ended up massaging some lotion into it, anyways, even though I told him it wasn’t necessary. And good thing I didn’t try and stop him, for it truly was soothing after all. After laying a few kisses right under my nape where my hair stopped, he covered my corpse-like body with the blankets and returned to his original spot, where he sat next to me.

“You know, you’re kinda pretty.” I mumbled. “When you’re not unbearably annoying.”

Steve rolled his eyes with a smile, moving some sticking hair off of my forehead. “I just take care of you, you masochist.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You seem to love when I’m a masochist.” I said in a high tone, mocking how hypocritical he could be when it come to an activity performed by two people, and one he enjoyed so much, sometimes I forgot it was me who offered it in the first place and felt like he bribed me into it. “You just love being a pain in my ass after… well, literally being a pain in my ass.”

The blonde burst out laughing in reaction to my comment. He always was easy to embarrass, he would blush at the slightest joke or dirty comment, yet turned into something completely different when I kneeled in front of him, mouth open. I’d beg for release and he would spank me to shut me up, but sure, laugh like a toddler when I mention butt sex.

He went to kiss my wrist, lovingly caress the marks left by the cuffs, as he always did, yet this time it wasn’t as easy to move my, up until that moment, motionless limb. When he took a hold of my right wrist, the one arm I hadn’t moved merely out of instinct, the one made out of flesh and bone, the scorching pain made me hiss loudly.

“What?” Steve let go of my wrist, a terrified expression plastered on his face and wide-opened blue eyes piercing through mine, searching for answers.

I avoided his gaze, having trouble putting on a false worry-less face which ended up looking just confused. As I grabbed my own wrist with care, I sensed how absolutely wrecked it was, however being now prepared for the sensation, the pain didn’t take me by surprise and I was able to conceal any outer representation of it.

“It’s fine.” I lied, giving him a small smile, rubbing the skin with harsh metal fingers, which didn’t help.

Steve’s eyes were going nuts, scanning my face, scanning my hand, scanning my body, as if there were something else he’d missed, like a sword dug in my back or something. I could see the worry building up for he didn’t buy my poor acting.

“Let me see.” He insisted, his voice now a little sterner.

I shook my head and turned on my back to rest my head against the pillow, trying to forget about my wrist. I knew he would make a big deal out of it, blame himself, treat me even more like porcelain, as if it were possible. I only needed to heal the bone in question, not discuss it with an overprotective mess of a dom.

The man sat up straighter, still examining my face and torso. “Buck, let me see.”

“Mind grabbing me a sweatshirt?” I asked to derail the topic.

He held a serious and concerned expression, that was beginning to turn into anger, but complied, as he physically couldn’t not spoil me in aftercare, which implied accepting my every request, which were usually little to nothing. When he came back with the item, I received it with my good hand, however had trouble putting it on.

“Let me help.”

“I’m fine.” I raised my voice a little on exasperation, having already said those two words around twenty times before.

Nevertheless, I was not fine, taking in consideration the trouble it meant to slide my aching arm through the sleeves. I made a grimace that was impossible to control, followed by a grunt. Now he was definitely worried.

Not minding my opinions anymore, he walked up to me from the side of the bed and gently lifted my arm, concentrated on the hurting articulation, which happened to burn like a bitch when he held it in his hand. This time the noise that escaped me sounded much more like an annoyed grunt, mostly from holding back the pain but also out of real annoyance towards Steve’s stubbornness and hero complex.

“I hurt you.” He let out, examining the articulation.

I simply sat there, legs dangling off the bed, that big sweatshirt covering me all the way down to my thighs and a dead look on my face. It felt as if he were to yell at me like this was somehow my fault, which excessively-technically, it was; I was the one to always push myself to the limit, but those kinds of things don’t necessarily matter when you’re full of superserum and heal rapidly. Still, the image made Steve extremely upset.

“Was it the cuffs?” he questioned, still not facing me.

“I guess so, it’s where you put it last, didn’t you?” the words came out a tad too sarcastic for anyone’s liking, but I didn’t mean to take them back.

He closed his eyes. “I’m serious, Buck. You’re hurt.” Steve then let go of my hand smoothly to avoid any pain and rested one hand on his hip, more angry-pose than anything, even thought it was hard not to picture him as a model with such a sight. “Not fun-sex-hurt, but actually hurt. I hurt you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hand me my underwear?” I extended my arm, ignoring his overreaction.

He turned around to fulfill my command, not shutting up though. “This shouldn’t have happened. How did it happen?” he ranted while handing me the item.

“It was just an accident.” I said in a low voice, receiving the boxers and doing my best not to grimace while sliding it up my legs, but failing miserably. “It’s not- agh- a big deal.”

The ridiculous contradiction in my sentence made Steve tilt his head with a sad frown, a mixture between frustration and desperation for my refusal to let him do everything for me, or at least recognize the injury as important. He kneeled in front of me.

“Here, let me.”

“Go away.” I said unironically, however I felt like he received the words lightheartedly.

He insisted, which only made me feel even more humiliated as he tried to hold onto my boxers.

“Gimme.”

“I said go away!” I pushed back, hitting the back of my legs with the bed end and therefore falling on my butt; Steve stood back up and stared at me with a frown that had become much angrier, to which I cooled down and lowered my voice. “Can you stop acting like this? It’s insane.”

“No! What’s insane is whatever you’re doing!” he yelled down at me all of a sudden. “I broke your wrist, Bucky, how the hell do you expect me to react? I broke your fucking wrist!”

The scolding I was enduring had me looking down with shame, and I took the opportunity to lift the item of clothing that still laid right below my knees. I pushed it up my bum and accommodated myself, using my hand as little as possible.

“I didn’t notice.” I mumbled under my breath.

The way Steve’s voice rang across the room like a bark had me frowning up at him with something I couldn’t quite decipher, but walked along the lines of embarrassed and sad.

“What’s next? I choke you to death because you didn’t make me to stop?” he threw his hands out in the air, making a loud slapping noise when they fell at his sides. “I thought you were aware of a thing as simple as a safeword!”

Truth be told, the man had a fair ground to stand on regarding the why he was so disturbed. It was very easy for me to care little to nothing about my well-being. Hell, if Steve hadn’t been there to reach into my post-Hydra emotional hole and pull me out into his arms, I probably wouldn’t even be there in that room to receive his yelling. And my actions only confirmed it to him, the way I copied how reckless he was when it came to missions, how I didn’t mind leaving a wound unattended, the amount of times I forgot my body was mine and not the machine they had told me it was.

Technically, yes, this was somehow my fault for not noticing. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to apologize for something that held me as the primary victim. I was the one who got hurt, meaning Steve shouldn’t had been so tough on me for it.

He broke the tense silence with a puff of air, not raising his voice anymore. “Goddamn it, Buck!” he sighed, followed by his face falling on both of his hands in frustration.

I wasn’t entirely sure if it was caused by a fair mixture of my negligence and his decision to yell at me, or if one of those two weighed more than the other. Yet everything in my body pushed me to comfort him, not allow him to wallow by himself. I stood up slowly, contemplating his still body which barely shook his head a little, and walked to him where I could grab his arm tenderly.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” I gave in, the slightest hint of annoyance in my voice. “I’ll be more careful. But I really didn’t notice.”

Instead of arguing back, Steve pulled me into a hug, which I reciprocated while avoiding any rough motions with or near my hand. He pressed the sides of our heads together and sighed again, this time more painfully.

“I can’t hurt you. I just can’t.” the way his thumb ran up and down my shoulder let me know he was apologetic more than anything. “I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t wanna yell.”

I remembered when I first told him what I was into, and he had thought he wasn’t capable of doing it, cause he didn’t wanna lay a finger on me if it was going to be painful in any way. But then we tried it, and he realized it was a different kind of pain and it very quickly grew on him. He liked playing like that, pretending to enjoy watching me suffer when all he really enjoyed was hear me beg, because it made him feel needed and in control.

He might have been the captain out there, but when it came to us both, he always said he had no say in his feelings or actions whatsoever, like I could ask him the world and he’d steal it from the entire population just for me. I never wanted to exceed those limits, never wanted to take advantage of his will. I even sometimes pretended he never confessed such thing to me.

“You didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself.” I did my best to ease the moment and comfort him. “And it’ll heal tomorrow.”

Steve kissed my forehead, then my temple, then cheekbones, until it led us into a sweet kiss. After staring deep into my eyes, as if we could read each other’s minds by doing it, he led me to sit down on the mattress, where he took a seat right next to me.

“I love you.” He said seriously. “So much, if anything were to happen to you…”

I simply stared down to my hands. “It’s already happened, remember? I can take it.”

Whatever torment he thought he was capable of unwillingly, was nothing compared to the things I had actually endured, and nothing Steve could ever do would even approach anything done by Hydra. He meant safety. I never had wanted to draw the psychological link between Hydra and my kinks, but I was pretty sure it has to do with catharsis, perhaps allowing the person I feel most safe with have their way with me in a healing manner.

He, however, didn’t enjoy any idea that compared him with the people who abused me. I could see it in his eyes when I peaked then looked back down to my hands, which he grabbed with utter care and held in his own.

As he pressed our hands against his chest, I could feel his voice buzzing. “I don’t want you to. I’m supposed to take care of you, not the opposite.” Suddenly, there was a hint of a smile in his pink lips. “You gotta let me take care of you, no matter how annoying I can be.”

We both smiled, him pleased with his reference to my complaints earlier, and me, giving into his warmness. Sometimes I had a hard time fathoming the idea of a person being the embodiment of the concept of haven. He kissed my metal arm, a gesture he didn’t do often but it reminded me he was the only person who knew how sentient it was, how much of a part of me and not just a weapon.

“I’ll get you some painkillers, okay?” he leaned to drop a kiss in my forehead before tugging a strand of hair behind my ear. “A heating pad and some hot chocolate.”

I frowned at the last addition, however a small smirk escaping me. “What’s the chocolate for?”

Steve only smiled as he got up. “To spoil you.”

Somehow he still got away with his own, for I gave into allowing him to pamper me without a single protest. And I figured, I wouldn’t care being looked after like that. When he got back with the promised, I laid in Steve’s arms while he pressed play on our old TV that we could barely use despite being a dinosaur for the likes of everyone else in this century.

And sure, I also figured there was nothing else I would rather be doing.

[thank-you-for-the-vampire-money]

DONE WAITING

Request: N/A

A/N: I just released a buttload of fluff, I think I need to balance it out with some ANGST!  Also, I need to stop watching First Avenger, it has taken over my life.

preserum!Steve x reader

Word count:

Summary: life isn’t fair.  Why did Steve think it would be as soon as you came into his life?

Warnings: death, grief, depression, guilt, funerals, references to Catholicism, car crash, description of injury, blood gore

(GIF not mine)

A dramatic crack of thunder and lightning illuminated the panes of the stained glass windows of the church, mildly interrupting the priest's sermon.  Steve flinched at the sudden noise, his senses more irritable with the bubbling sadness within him.  A single tear rolled down his face as he sniffled, trying not to cough- the cold and wet weather wasn’t good for his asthma.

The sound of the priest’s voice was drowned out by Steve’s racing thoughts and aching chest.  All he could focus on was not crying again. Over and over Steve repeated in his head, “it should have been me, it should have been me…”.  He rocked back as forth as the dam broke, tears flooding his cheeks, despite his best efforts.  He covered his face with his ice cold hands, ashamed of his constant weeping.  All he could see behind his eyelids was that damned car accident played on over and over.  Again and again the sights and sounds haunted his cursed imagination.  Why did a good person like you have to die such a cruel, vile death?! It had been less than a week ago, meaning the gaping wound where Steve’s heart used to be was still fresh.  You were on your way to a dinner reservation you had planned to celebrate yours and Steve’s engagement.  It was supposed to be a happy occasion… 

All three of you were strolling down the city sidewalk to the Pizzeria you had been dying to try.  Work had been so stressful for the three of you, so you had decided to treat yourself to a dinner outing.  Why not?  You had been saving up for over a year to do something nice for yourselves, and you all had plenty of reason to celebrate. 

“And that’s when the camel said, ‘get off my back!’” Steve chuckled, getting to the awful, yet hilarious end of his bad joke.  Buck gave him sarcastic laughter and playful eye rolls.  You, on the other hand, were laughing so hard your face was red and you couldn’t stop chortling.

Steve loved it when you laughed.  Especially when it wasn’t “lady-like”.  The most beautiful sound he could hear was you laughing so hard you were snorting and wheezing.  It broke his heart that he’d never hear that angelic sound again.

Bucky let out a deep sigh before looking both ways to cross the street with you.  Unfortunately, Steve was too busy reveling in the pride of making you choke on your own laughter, that he wasn’t aware of his surroundings.  Steve had walked halfway across the road when a drunk driver swerved around the corner, barreling down the street.

It was as if time slowed down.  You had seen the car speeding down the road, heading to hit Steve, so you jumped into action.  You pushed Bucky away from you to keep him from chasing you into the street too as you leapt onto the asphalt.  Your high-heels clicked against the black top, giving the scene an eerie echo of your last footsteps as Steve slowly turned around to see what the hell was happening.

“STEVEN!” you shrieked, slightly picking him up before throwing him to safety at the other end of the crosswalk.

Steve didn’t have even a second to process what was going on, he just knew he was flying through the air and you were a mere foot from the hood of that guy’s car.

Just as he was landing, still in slow motion, Steve saw you attempt to jump out of the way, but it was too late, the drunk driver had hit you spot on, plummeting you to the ground as his squealing tires ran you over, dragging your body against the pavement.

The sound of yours and Bucky’s screams pierced Steve’s ears as he watched the vehicle screech to a stop and run over the curb into a fire hydrant.  Once his brain had gathered the information, he landed hard on his back as he started to process the events that had just transpired.

He could barely believe his eyes.  Your body was limp and quickly turning pale and ashy, bruised and bleeding on the dirty ground.  “No… no… (Y/N)!!!” Steve cried, scrambling to his feet and rushing over, scraping his knees as he stumbled to your side, “CALL 9-1-1!”.  Bucky ran into the nearest business establishment to call an ambulance, his face white with terror.

Steve took you into his arms, afraid to touch and hurt you further.  “No… no… no no… (Y/N), why?” he whimpered, holding your cold corpse to his chest.  Your head was profusely bleeding, staining your new pink dress and his white shirt.  Your left arm and neck were severely bruised and your right arm was broken.  Ironically, as if the universe was trying to mock him, your face had a peaceful look on it, as if you were simply taking a nap.  The universe was sick.

The scene was so vivid in Steve’s head, it took another solid crack of booming thunder to shake him out of the flashback.  His tears and sobs grew louder and harder as Bucky stood up to carry the casket out of the church.

“She’s where she doesn’t have to suffer,” Bucky whispered, squeezing Steve’s frail shoulder in a quick attempt to comfort him, “she’s okay now,”.

Steve just watched as Bucky’s expression faded back into a somber pout.  Steve felt it was all his fault you died and he couldn’t even give you the respect of carrying you to your final resting place.  He was so useless…

The funeral procession walked outside, everyone popping open their umbrellas or donning their raincoats as another crack of thunder roared.  Steve was almost too shaky to carry his own umbrella as he tried to have a stiff upper lip, but the tears kept falling down his pale cheeks.

The final words spoken by the Priest and the goodbye given by her parents were nice, or, so Steve was told.  He was too distracted to listen as he stared blankly at the deep, lonely hole (Y/N) was about to be shoved in.  How he wished there was a more elegant way for you to be buried, you didn’t deserve a literal hole in the ground.

After the funeral was over, everyone filtered away, getting into their mud-splashed cars and driving home to eat and go to bed, most likely to feel better in the morning.  But not Steve.  He didn’t want to leave you yet.  He couldn’t.

“C’mon pal, you’ll catch something if you stay out here much longer,” Bucky called, sticking his numb hands into his coat pockets.

“It’s my fault…” he sobbed, dropping his umbrella, rain immediately soaking his hair and shirt.

Bucky jogged over to him, holding his own umbrella over the both of them.  “Steve, don’t say things like that, it was a freak accident!” he said, turning the smaller man to face him.

“If I had just paid attention… If I had just looked where I was going… she’d still be here,” he choked, his lungs suffering as his sobs steifled his already questionable breathing.

Buck’s face softened, giving his best friend a hug.  “I’ll miss her too, but this isn’t your fault…” he repeated, “she just loved you enough she’d sacrifice herself for you… the same thing you’d do for her,”.

Steve nodded, looking back at the open grave, still not ready to face the reality that you were gone.  He never thought he’d have to face this… For one, he never thought someone would love him like you did.  But, with you added to his life, he had even more to lose… 

“Thanks Buck… I appreciate you staying with me,” he sniffed, attempting to wipe his face dry.

Bucky smiled softly, glad Steve wasn’t completely lost.  He wrapped his arm around his shoulder, leading him to the truck, “We’ll visit her again soon, let’s just get you dried off and fed- you know she would have killed you if she saw you like this,”.

Steve visited everyday, not that he had much else to do.  His paintings weren’t selling anymore.  Not that he was surprised, his art was all sad and dark, no one wanted to buy that.  So, instead of creating shitty art, he decided to sit with you for a few hours everyday.  Bucky said he shouldn’t do that, “you won’t heal unless you distance yourself,” he’d say.  But what was he going to do?  Stop Steve from going?  He was always at work.

Steve leaned against the small headstone, curling up to stay warm.  November had just started and the wind was picking up, blowing around dark clouds and dead leaves.  He wrapped his thin coat around his small body as the gusts of air violently blew his hair and tie around, the sting of the cold doing nothing to stop his face from heating up as he started to cry again.

“I miss you..” he whimpered, sniffling, “I visited mom and dad earlier, I wish you could have met them… Maybe you’re with them now… I hope you are, they’d really love you,”.  The cold stone grave said nothing back, the silence deafening.  “I could really use some encouragement right now.  Everyone says to express myself and get it out of my system, but whatever I create sucks!” he ranted, pulling a little photo of you out of his pocket, hoping that if he saw your face, he’d feel more like you were here.

“I’m trying my best to feel better, but it’s so hard when I’ve already lost almost everything… Bucky’s there, but he doesn’t understand how I feel, he doesn’t get it,” he cried, his eyes getting puffy as tears continued to well up.  He leaned his forehead against the stone to shield his face from the gray wind, still looking at the photo.

You were smiling at the camera, your cheek pressed against his own as Bucky presented your homemade birthday cake to you.  Steve remembered that day so vividly.  He planned a big surprise party for you at the community center.  Somehow, both he and Buck were able to keep their lips sealed and didn’t spoil the surprise the entire two weeks he was planning it.  It was such a happy memory.

“I don’t know how I can move on…” he sobbed, clutching the picture to his chest as he let out a few vulnerable sobs, “I fucking miss you, (Y/N),”.  He started sobbing so hard he couldn’t breathe, his lungs begging for air in the form of desperate gasps.  He fumbled through his pockets to look for his special cigarettes.  He stuck it between his lips, igniting a match to light the cigarette in a hurry.

He let out a hard coughing sob before taking a deep inhale of the medicinal smoke.  “How can I move on from someone like you?” he hiccuped, shoving the picture back into his pocket, “I had waited for some like you for so long… just for you to be ripped away from me…”.  He scoffed, tapping the ash off the butt of the cigarette before starting to walk home.  “The universe is sick…” he grumbled, leaving his wedding band at your headstone.

______________

TAGLIST (message me if you want to be tagged! <3)

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[harveywritings92]

One sided friendship Batboys series: 1# Jason Todd X Reader.

The following is a non profit fan based story Batman, Red hood, Nightwing etc. belongs to DC Comics please support the official release.

_

I gain no profit from this nor do I own anything other then OCs  and whatever sprouts from my imagination. Thanks for reading!

Your POV:

Ten years...ten fucking years I've stood by his side! visited his grave when he was dead, welcomed him back with open arms when he came back! I'd work myself to the breaking point building armor and weapons for him, stitched his wounds and mend his bones for him.

Christ! I even gave him and the other outlaws a place to fucking live! and the thanks I get? nothing...he ignores me, treats me like a damn cactus! the only time he even acknowledges my existence is when he needs his damn guns fixed, upgraded or wants test some new ammo he created.

The other outlaws always marvel at my armory and weapons smith skills, Hell even Artemis says I'd put smiths back in her homeland to shame! and that's a high honor! But Jason? he hasn't thanked me once...he didn't notice how distraught I was after my brother died...I tried to reach out and he just said he'd talk to me later and hung up! Roy ended up taking me out for drinks and let me cry it out. 

He didn't even visit me in the hospital after an assassin attacked me... I held my own long enough for Artemis find me and get me to the hospital in time. the other outlaws, his brothers and Bruce had sent me care baskets and flowers and I hardly ever spoke to them...hell, 

Harley Quinn even sent me a god damn card!? and I beat the crap out of her once! that stung more than anything...A villain cared more about me then the man I loved did, Too bad it took me losing my left arm and almost dying to realize that Jason Todd will never care about me. 

And now I'm here hungover and miserable in Las Vegas, waking up in a shitty motel wearing inside out jeans, no shirt and some blond dude passed out on my stomach, I groan and try to remember what happened to last three days...

I wann-no need throw up! I think throwing an arm over my eyes and freeze when I see the gleam of a cheap gold ring around my finger!?!? "Oh...ooh..." I moaned blanching feeling my heart-rate pick up it was hard to breathe as I see a similar ring on Blond dude's finger. "oh, I am so fucked!" I croaked out sobbingly before throwing up over the side of the bed and blacking out again...

Three months later...  

It was tense at Y/n's scrap yards.. Roy was in the main compound pacing and would pause look at his phone frown and sigh, while Kory sat on the couch arms wrapped around a pillow watching the news. and Artemis stood staring out the window, 

A sudden slam from up stairs caused them to jump and saw Jason's girlfriend..correction Ex-Girlfriend stomping down the stair pissed. "You are a horrible heartless man! I can't fucking stand you anymore!" She snapped throwing her coat on as Jason ran down after her. 

"Look [RG/n] I'm sorry I bailed on our date I was just tired..."

"I don't give a shit about that! I actually thought you were out looking her... instead I find you getting drunk and playing fucking video games?!"

"...Out looking for who?"

"Are you serious right now? God I'm not even her friend and even I noticed!"

"Noticed what?!"

His ex just glared at him before taking a breath "Y'know what? I hope Y/n's dead in a ditch somewhere, maybe then you'll finally notice her..." the girl spat in disgust before walking out the front door and slamming it, Jason stared at the space his ex stood then noticed the rest of the Outlaws gawking at him in disbelief before "What the fuck was she talking about? is Y/n in trouble?" that was the sentence that broke the dam as Roy calmly walked up grabbed the raven haired man by the shoulder whirled him around and punched him in the jaw.

" what the shit Harper!?" Jason bellowed holding his jaw while looking up at the archer. "You bastard! Y/n's been missing for three months! and you don't even care!" the ginger male snarled pulling Jay off the floor and pinned him to the wall. 

"You keep singing about how you're her friend.. you're her friend, but when she fucking needed you..." He was readying to punch Jason again...but was interrupted by the land line phone ringing. Artemis and Kory perked up as Roy dropped the raven haired man ran and answered it. 

"Hello?!..." his face went from hopeful to disappointed. "No We don't need a credit card..." he hissed slammed it down both women looked down sadly. "What the hell do you mean she's missing?" Jason asked warily Kory scoffed at him "Now he worries..." she muttered under her breath, "She disappeared from the hospital.." Artemis began only to be cut off by the former Robin 

"When the hell was she in the hospital?!" he snapped angry that this wasn't brought up to him any point. "...After she had her breakdown or ''little bitch fit'' as you called it...Y/n stormed out of the bar, I went after her, it couldn't have been more than a five minute head start... I can still hear her screaming, feel her blood on my hands..."

Artemis was pale looking down her hands with a haunted looked in her eyes as she recalled the state she found her friend in then up at Jason in disgust "I called you after... at the hospital on her phone, but I guess she wasn't important enough answer." Jason felt rot spreading through his core, this wasn't supposed to happen...This wasn't supposed to happen at all...Y/n was supposed to hate him and leave!

Jason's mind was swirling as Artemis continued "The doctors thought I brought them corpse..." she hissed trying hold back her anger as Kory held her hand just then there was a knock at the door Roy who was silently trying to keep himself from strangling Jason answered it.

And standing on the front steps was a blond hipster looking man standing there sheepishly "Can I help you?" Roy asked bemused while scanning the yard to make sure this wasn't a ruse, the guy looked down at a post it squinting as he tried to make out what it said." is this Y/n l/n's residence?" man asked seriously the archer swallowed a lump that formed in his throat, thinking that this was the news about Y/n they've been dreading.

"Y-yeah..." the man relaxed smiled and held his hand out "Oh good, you're Roy right?" Roy looked at the guy's hand confused why he knows him. "Yeah and you are?" the ginger asked shaking the blond's hand." I'm Dane Carter! Y/n's husband." He chirped happily as Roy's grip suddenly tightened causing Dane to wince in pain before the archer let go.

"Oh f..I- Y/n's what?!" the ginger looked gobsmacked at the blond who was flexing his hand smiled coyly. "uh..Yeah she wanted to be the one to tell you, but she sorta dozed off in the cab..." He said nodding at the waiting taxi as said the cab's back door opened and a familiar mop of h/c poked out of the cab.

and out came Y/n wearing a black hoodie under a bomber jacket and a backpack slung over her shoulder, wandered over to them and held Dane's hand.

Artemis and Kory wandered over to see who was at the door both women were happy to see [y/height] standing there but, were confused who the blond guy she was holding hands with was, As they walked inside Jason eye's locked onto Y/n and felt bile rise, 

when he saw how badly she was hurt, a scar rested over her right eye..his eyes soon left her face moved to down, her left arm was gone, there was just a stub where her elbow should've been...

But then he noticed the blond man next to her holding hands with the h/c, soon the guilt and regret slowly morphed into jealousy and rage, who the fuck did this guy think he was touching his Y/n?! "Who the hell are you?" Jason growled the guy took a step back as Roy tried do damage control.

"Say why don't we all calm down-" Y/n talked over him "He's my husband." she said bluntly a pregnant silence filled the compound. "...His name is Dane." She said leading the blond towards her room/workshop.

only for Kory and Artemis to intercept the ''couple'' demanding to know when and how this happened but, the h/c just sighed and dragged them to living room and show them the video.

[[ A priest dress as Elvis who clearly looks soo effing done with this gig, but can't fricken' quit because it's his only source of income, stands at a cheap pedestal reading wedding rights in a very dull and listless voice, he watches annoyed as a happy couple barely out of college walks away. "Next!" he huffed then rolled his eyes when he saw the state of Dane practically dragging Y/n next to him down the aisle. The priest cusses checks his watch and sighs..."I've got an appointment in twenty so, we'll make this short..." he grumbled.

"Do you..."

"N/n~"

"Take...

"Daaane..."

"to be your wedded wife and husband?"

"I like..puppies."

"Dawgz iz Bombing!"

Priest sighed annoyed but took that as consent, he reached into his pocket "By the power vested in me and the state Nevada I pronounce you man and wife...Yada yada, here's fifty bucks worth of chips...Kiss and get out!" he shooed them taking his wig off and walking out of camera view, the newly weds looked at each other confused shrugged and kissed then drunkenly stole the camera.]] Y/n quickly sped through the taped it just showed her and Dane getting drunker,gambling Y/n making out with a female stripper stealing a cop car and getting into other risky situations, till stopping on the three day mark when she woke up in the hotel.

[[Y/n wakes up looks around the room confused, her jeans were inside and had no shirt on...a shirtless Dane rested between her legs using her stomach as a pillow scratches were visible on his back. Y/n groaned and threw her arm over her eyes only to see the ring she was currently sporting on her finger.

 "Oh...ooh..." she moaned and started hyperventilating as she apparently spied Dane's ring, and went white as a sheet. "Oh, I'm so fucked!" she croaked sobbingly before throwing up over the side of the bed and passing out again...the camera finally died.]]

Y/n just sat awkwardly with Dane on the couch who had his arm around her as the Outlaws were staring stunned at the blank screen, Jason silently got up and left while Roy, Kory and Artemis just kind of stood there not sure how to address the elephant in the room. 

as Y/n calmly got up and pulled Dane off to her room to help him get settled. Only for Roy to stop her "Y/n can I talk to Dane for sec?" the h/c was hesitant, but nodded and went to take their stuff to her room. Roy and the girls descended on Dane like a pack wolves.

Who the hell he was? how dare he take advantage of a intoxicated girl, which he argued that he was just a drunk as Y/n if anything they taking advantage of each other, then Jason finally showed up hands bruised up and bloody like he had been hitting something repeatedly. "How old are you?!" he snarled the others paused and looked at the blond who shrank under their glares that's a very good question.

"uh...36?" before any of the Outlaws could react the raven haired man lunged for him, tackling him to floor and punched him "You son of a bitch she's only nineteen!" he snarled Dane blanched when he heard that. "Her ID said she was 24!" 

the blond stuttered just then Y/n came rushing "What the fuck Jason get off of him!" the h/c demanded trying to yank the tall man off her husband, only for Jason to climbed off Dane and grabbed Y/n by shoulders shaking her.

"Y/n I want you be truthful did this perv fucking kidnap you?!"

"wha-no!"

"What then! Did he drug you?! blackmail you? what does he have on you?! I'l-..."

{Slap}

Jason cheek suddenly stung he was briefly stunned as he tried tried to figure out what hit him, then looked down a Y/n putting her hand down and was glaring at him eyes clouded with anger, she took a deep breath and to calm down. "You don't get to be angry Jason." she hissed before going to help Dane up who was rubbing his jaw.

 "I'm done with you..." she stated coldly with that She helped her husband to her room, And she ignored him after that, the only sign of acknowledgement she was when she fix his guns and have Roy deliver them to him.

 "I don't get why you so pissed, You got what you wanted, right?" the archer said as he and Jay watched Y/n and Dane be lovey and mushy with each other from the living room window.

Roy was Jason got what he wanted, Y/n hated him and was with a normal guy with a normal job and Jason fucking hates it... He hated seeing the girl he loves in the arms of another man, he hates seeing her happy with someone else, hated that Dane calls her by his old nickname for her, hates that Y/n doesn't even try to speak with him anymore, And he just fucking hates Dane in general something about him doesn't add up...

Jason contacted Tim about Y/n and Dane's marriage hopping the certificate was a screwed up or a fake no.. it was a legit license officiated by a real priest even if he was dressed as Elvis... 

That still didn't put Jason's anger suspicions at ease. Dick said that this was karma biting Jason in the ass for being such a heartless jerk to Y/n, let's just say Nightwing had to go on patrol sporting a broken nose for a couple days after that conversation. it was month 4 into Y/n and Dane's marriage that the blond was acting odd and everyone was starting to notice...

He would check his phone or intercept the mail and act all nervous and clingy to Y/n if she asked him what was wrong? He dance around the question, And just now they got back from a lunch date early.

 Y/n was clearly upset and confused, While Dane was pale and jumpy like he'd seen a ghost. Everyone was confused to see them home they weren't even gone an hour.

"You guys are back earl-" Roy was cut off by Dane shouldering passed him causing Roy's smoothie to slash on his shirt the blond didn't even apologize and continued to Y/n's room. "What's his problem?" the archer spat glaring down at his stained shirt.

 Y/n shrugged "I don't know we were just getting ready to eat and suddenly he got and weird and dragged me out of the diner!" she explained then Jason's voice cut in "Going somewhere Dane?" both the mechanic and Archer walked into the garage to see Jason leaning on his motorcycle and he looked pissed.

"Duh, surprise N/n we're going camping! let's go!" he grabs Y/n's arm which she writhes out of his hold.

"Camping? I can't leave I have projects to finish! commissions to fill!"

"You can finish them on the way, let's go!"

"Dane, what's going on?"

The blond was sweating now and after a few seconds of silence he sighed dropping his bag. "Y/n..I haven't been completely honest with you." He said said forlornly Y/n brows furrowed as tried to get him to look at her. 

Just then a truck came screeching into the yard before coming to a grinding halt a few feet from the garage a very pissed off brunette woman came out as two little kids watched from the backseat. "Steven! what the fuck!" she shrieked stomping up to 'Dane' and slapping him on the face hard.

"You son of a Bitch! I thought you were dead! and I find out you've been shacking up with some skank?!" She spat slapping him again the blond winced as Y/n pointed at the woman angry "Who hell is this Dane?!" the brunette snorted "Dane? You don't even have the balls to tell the bitch your cheating on me with your real name?! you're pathetic..." she then turned to the h/c was now piecing it together.

"His name is Steven I'm his wife..his real wife...And he is leaving now." She hissed grabbing Da--Steven's bag and stomping to the car, while Y/n just stares at the blond stunned.

 "We've been fighting a lot, about the kids, about the house, about money...I needed a break." He explained the e/c girl took a sharp breath "S-So that's all I was to you a a...stress reliever?" she croaked in tiny voice, Steve ran a hand threw his hair.

"No no it's not...look you're a sweet kid Y/n and you deserved the world, but I can't give you that...I'm sorry for everything." he said patting her on the head before following after his wife ignoring the icy look Roy was giving him as got to the car he paused.

 "Hey Jay?" Jason growled in response as Steven's eyes narrowed at him. "when you have a minute, stop and pull your head out of your ass...you're missing out on a good thing." the blond huffed and with that Steven and his family drove off, leaving a very offended Jason and a heartbroken Y/n behind...

"You knew..." Y/n said listlessly looking at Jason eyes empty and voided of any emotion, when the raven haired said nothing pretty much confirmed the h/c's suspicions she didn't cry..she didn't scream she sort looked around confused like she woken for the fist time. "Get...out" she muttered Roy reached out to touch her but Y/n pushed him away. 

"GET OUT!?" she screamed Roy flinched she's never raised her voice at them like that before. "Get out, get out! get out!" she broke down into sobs, the archer left while giving Jason a cold glare the vigilante still hadn't budge Y/n noticed Jason hadn't left "what fuck are you still doing her? leave!" Jason instead hit the emergency lock-down button for the garage closing the shutters locking them in. 

"leave..."

"Can't do that toots it's a lock-down." He said pushing off his bike and walking over to Y/n, who threw a wrench at him Jason dodged it, And cock a brow "Throwing things now? real mature...N/n." she threw a screwdriver at him, he caught it and placed in on a table, he pretty much had her cornered.

"Get away from me."

"No..we're gonna stay here and talk..."

Jason said smoothly Y/n clearly didn't want to she tried to slap him, he caught her hand she tried to kick him, the raven haired man dodged it without effort. "Don't forget I was the one who taught you to fight..." He chided the h/c broke down again whimpering for him to leave...

"I'm not leaving Y/n..." Jason stated firmly keeping her still, the y/height sniffled "why...you didn't care before why now?" she croaked Jason winced he licked his lips. "It's was to protect you..." Y/n called him a liar he didn't care about her...he just making shit up to make her feel like she's the bad guy.

"I not lying Y/n, somebody was threatening me said if Red-hood didn't back down they would hurt you..." Y/n still tried to pull away from Jason but he was bigger and stronger then she was. "So, I decided if they thought I didn't care about you, they'd leave you alone...I was wrong!" 

He took as sharp breath when Y/n stopped struggling, as he continued "I ignored you, treated you like dirt even dated other girls in an attempt to drive you away...and still didn't matter to them." his voice cracked Jason hadn't realized he was crying at that point.

"You could've told me..instead of making me hate you..." she sobbed Jason let go of her arm snaked his arms around her waist  resting his chin on her head. "No, that wouldn't of worked, the emotions had to be genuine." He said hoarsely feeling sick that he used one of Bruce's strategies and lot of good it did... 

Y/n sobbed into his chest causing Jason to tightened his hold on her waist kissing her on the head. "I'm sorry.." he mumbled on repeat into her hair, He felt felt y/n shift and looked down in time to see her try and kiss him.

Jason leaned away from her "No." He said quickly stopping her Y/n looked at him distraught and confused the raven haired man cussed himself in his head and took a deep breath and led her to her bed room which in disarray from Dane/Steven's hasty escape attempt. 

"We're not doing that right now...You're emotionally compromised." He said laying down tugging Y/n down next to him. "Just go asleep Y/n...I'll be here when you wake up." Jason promised the h/c hadn't even realized how tired she was till she drifted off Jason refused to let go of her...it'll take time to mend all the damage he caused, but eventually He and Y/n will build up what they used to have.. and maybe the next time around it'll be Jason's ring on Y/n's finger...  

~-The end-~

Next up in the onesided series: Dick Grayson

[monotonemanday]

More Than Backup

A commission for @aoi-hina A pairing with Bucky Barnes and her OC Jenna. As always it was fun to write and I am so grateful for the commission! Thank you, thank you! Enjoy!

"Jenna, do you have someone watching your six?"

"Isn't that your job?" Jenna replied to Bucky, a smirk playing on her lips. Jenna was watching from above on a flat rooftop of a single story building a couple of meters back.

"I'm not joking Jenna, make sure your back is covered." Bucky's tone was serious. He was walking into the center of the small town they were sent to. Supposedly abandoned.

Jenna and Bucky had been a team for several months now. They were and A-Class reconnaissance team for The Avengers. The two went to remote areas searching for enemies, villains, malicious groups, and people of interest. Leading teams made up of Special Ops agents, low ranking Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and local law enforcement.

Bucky usually took to the ground, walking through the areas and checking for any sign of occupancy. Jenna took up top, surveying the areas from a bird's eye view. Being a skilled archer, it was much easier for her to cover a lot of "ground" from up high. Her arrows never seemed to miss, but close combat was not for her. As much as Bucky tried to train her, close combat for her never ended well. In the time they worked together, they had grown close. Or as close as one could get to Bucky. Even though he was his own person there was still a lot of caution due to what went on in his past. So she did things like, learn those old trigger words, and even learned a bit of Russian, just in case they needed to discuss something covertly. He was insanely honest and very blunt. Jenna was kindhearted and had a lot of patience. Certain aspects of Bucky's personality that rubbed people the wrong way, Jenna found endearing. A lot of people might think he was called The Winter Soldier because he could be pretty frigid at times.

"Everything looks good up here, Bucky. I'm not seeing any movement."

"Things are pretty quiet down here as well. Jenna, really is someone able to get to you if something happens?"

"I'm fine, Buck. Why are you so worried about it? I can take care of myself."

"I just have a bad feeling about this place. And I wasn't saying you couldn't take care of yourself. It's just that-"

"Wait." Jenna cut Bucky off and quietly drew an arrow to press against her bow.

"Jenna what-" His sentence was cut short as Jenna's arrow tore through the air, zipping directly past his head and sticking into something he couldn't see. Falling from behind tattered curtains that hung in the broken window of one of the abandon bodies, was the now lifeless corpse of an enemy assailant. Quickly realizing what was happening Bucky alerted the rest of the team.

"AMBUSH!"

The team came pouring out of where they had stashed themselves and the fighting quickly ensued.

Jenna had set herself up nicely. Extra arrows laying beside her and no one seeming to be alerted of her presence. She took a moment to put her wavy brown hair up into a tight ponytail. Taking her usual stance, she began firing off arrows with great precision. Nailing each enemy she set her sights on. Everyone was centered and focused on their own tasks at hand, they didn't realize they were slowing being overpowered. Her sights were automatically turned to Bucky. Fighting about 4 opponent on his own. They were close enough that it was easiest for him to start laying on the punches with his fighting arm. It seemed like he was fighting them off with ease but Jenna could see he was struggling a bit. Maybe he was tired? She knew how hard he worked himself and even though he constantly denied it, exhaustion was inevitable.

"Bucky, what's going on down there?"

"Everything's fine Jenna. Just stay where you are!"

His voice over the line was sharp. He meant business but Jenna couldn't just wipe away her concern. Multiple voices were shouting over the channel.

"There's too many of them!"

"It's like they're multiplying!"

"Reinforcements are on their way! Hold on troop!"

"I don't know if we'll make it."

Bucky landed a punch squarely on the right side of his last surrounding enemies jaw. A small window for him to catch his breath, he turned to see someone running inside the building Jenna was stationed on the roof of.

"Jenna!" He exclaimed over the line as he began to fast pace his way to the building, but suddenly he took a shot to the shoulder. The force and initial shock pushed him back a step but it didn't deter him enough to change his objective. After hearing her name being called with such urgency, Jenna stopped and took a calculated second to assess the situation. She could hear steps and commotion coming from below her. Knowing that someone was coming up the stairs soon. She looked out onto the streets and realized Bucky was making his way to the building, firing shots at those who came in front of them, but paying no attention to what was happening behind him. He was hyper-focused on something.

Without hesitation, Jenna left her extra arrows and her set up behind. She jumped from the roof, tucking and rolling to brace her landing. She stood up quickly at Bucky's back and shot two arrows through the two men quickly approaching his six.

"Bucky! Snap out of it!"

"Jenna! What are you doing?! I told you to stay where you were!"

"Well someone had to watch your back!" Jenna let out a chuckle and continued to fire arrows. They were no longer surrounded. The enemy was falling back after reinforcements had shown up but that didn't stop Bucky from being irate. He turned himself around then grabbed Jenna by the shoulders, turning her around as well to face him

"I'm not kidding Jenna! You should have followed orders! You can't fight in such close quarters. Or do hand to hand combat. What if you were surrounded?!"

"Why are you so angry at me? I came down here because I couldn't just watch my partner-"

"It doesn't matter! You put yourself at greater risk, Jenna."

"Bucky, I can take ca-" Her words were stopped by a sharp gasp. "You were shot!"

"It's nothing. I'll get it taken care of. I'll apply pressure on the way back after the mission." Bucky took his hands off of Jenna's shoulders and pressed his hand to his bullet wound.

It seemed like every enemy had been apprehended and the team was starting to pack up. Jenna and Bucky stood together in silence. They stared at each other. Their expressions were hard to read. They showed flashes of anger, pain, compassion, irritation.

Finally, Jenna broke the silence.

"Stubborn. Let's go." She turned to walk away.

A sharp ring cut through the air. On the roof of the building Jenna was stationed at, the man that made his way up the stairs had fired off a shot with expert aim. It pierced Jenna's upper thigh.

"AAAH!" Jenna screamed out and collapsed on to one knee.

"Jenna! UUGH!" Bucky tried to catch her, but let out a hiss due to his own pain. A team quickly apprehended the shooter on the roof and a separate team quickly came to Jenna and Bucky's aid.

The ride back to headquarters was silent between the two. They could hear the hustling and chatter of the EMT's and the other team members. Patching them up and applying first response medical attention. But Jenna and Bucky didn't speak any words to each other.

Once at headquarters, the two were escorted to a private holding room. This always happened after missions. They were isolated until they could be debriefed. Just protocol.

"Now Jenna, you are very lucky. There is no damage to any muscles or tendons. You will have full function of your leg, and little recovery time is needed. You will be able to walk on your own just fine. We just want you to stay off of it right now."

 A doctor in a long lab coat was pushing Jenna in a wheelchair down a bright corridor. "And you young man, I don't have to tell you much about your wound. You know the drill."

"Right" Bucky responded curtly, following alongside them.

They arrived at the holding room and the doors pushed opened with a gust of pressure. Jenna thanked the doctor and he made his leave. Bucky sat on the bench on the far side of the room. The two let the atmosphere fill with an uncomfortable silence. They were still sorting out their feelings. Whether or not they were still annoyed by each other.

The bandage on Bucky's shoulder had come loose, unraveling fast and falling off. He clumsily tried to use his metal arm to re-bandage his wound. Struggling for a hot minute, getting visibly frustrated.

"Damn it..." He huffed under his breath and Jenna couldn't stand watching him be an oaf for any longer. She put the breaks on her wheelchair and braced herself on the arms of the chair, lifting herself up, she stood and slowly and began to make her way towards Bucky.

"Jenna! What-"

"Oh stop it. I'm fine. You heard the doctor."

"Yeah, he said to stay off of your leg."

"Just let me help." Jenna straddled the bench so that she could face Bucky properly. She gently dressed his wound again and tied it tight. She stared at him. Her hazel eyes were gentle as they looked him over. She brushed back his hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear. "Looks like you have a couple of cuts too."

"...idiot," Bucky mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I said, Thank you."  

"Really? Because it sounded like you called me an idiot." Jenna raised her eyebrows but didn't change her gentle expression, she simply continued to run her thumb over his cuts. Bucky stood up abruptly and began to pace.

"Yeah! I did! Why would you come down to help me and put yourself at risk like that? And why are you trying to take care of my wound when you are in worse condition. That is what an idiot would do."

Jenna looked at him in shock. She didn't know what was causing this kind of reaction from him. He was angry but in a way that held a lot of passion. She took her hair down and shook it out. It fell in gentle waves, framing her face. She pulled her glasses off, wiping them off a bit while she tried to figure out how to deal with him. She would simply treat him like she always would. With kindness, gentleness, patience, and a bit of teasing.

"You know, Steve always says that in the 1940's you were quite the charmer. Handsome, gentleman-like. A ladies man even. Where's that guy?" The corners of her lips upturned.

"Yeah well, 80 plus years can really change a man." Bucky stood still, a sour look painting his face.

"You've aged well." Jenna stood up and walked over to Bucky, placing a gentle hand on his bandaged wound. "I like the changes."

Bucky reached his left arm out to her. His metal thumb brushing her cheek. It was cold to the touch but the gesture held more warmth than anything Jenna had ever felt. He stared into her eyes before again he abruptly tore himself away.

Jenna's frustration had built up. She was trying her hardest to get through to him but his attitude was unwavering.

"What is wrong with you, James!" He froze at the sound of his first name. 

"James Buchanan Barnes, look at me!"

He turned around, ready to unleash a million words a minute, but looking at Jenna's face caused him to take a deep breath.

"Stop that, Jenna. You need to take care of yourself for a change. Stop worrying about everyone else. Maybe we need to stop being partners for a while. I can't have you pulling my focus."

The words pierced Jenna's core. She sat down, heavy, crossing her arms. "Fine! I don't see what's so wrong with loving someone! Jerk." Jenna turned her head to the side, steam brewing to come out of her ears when suddenly she realized...

"What did you just say?" Bucky's expression softened and he bent down in front of Jenna, taking in her slender figure, pale skin, and sweet face. All tensed up and distressed.

"I... I said." Jenna was turning crimson red. She was embarrassed and felt it resonating with every part of her but she also felt tired. Tired of running away from what she had been feeling and tired of being so patient. "I said in a round-a-bout way that, well, I love you." Jenna stood up, trying to push her nerves down. "I care about you and worry about you because I love you. As more than just a partner. I am in love with you. And I don't think it's right that-"

Prepared to give out a lecture on the negatives of rejecting others feelings, Jenna was instead met with a heartfelt attempt to silence her. Bucky put his arm around the small of her back and pulled her close. His other hand resting on the back of her neck, his lips fell onto hers. The kiss warm and sweet. It deepened as time moved on and Jenna could only see flames when she closed her eyes. A flame so bright that it burned blue instead of red. When their lips parted Jenna couldn't find her voice but it didn't matter at that moment because Bucky had a lot to say.

"Listen, Jenna. I was angry today because I care about you. Because I can't stand the thought of losing you. Not as my partner. If something happened to you that took you away from me, I don't know if I could move on. And if something happened to you because of me...because I lost focus or because you tried to protect me, I would never forgive myself. I love you."

Jenna reached up and put her palm to Bucky's cheek.

"I understand. But I can't just stand by and do nothing if you're in trouble. Think about your feelings for me and know that I feel those same things for you. We can protect each other. We're a team, in more ways than one."

The two shared a kiss once more, Bucky running his hand through Jenna's hair. Jenna's hands ran up his chest and she clutched onto the fabric of his shirt. His lips parted and when Jenna slipped her tongue past his a buzzer rang out.

"Uhm Agent Barnes...It's uh, time for your debriefing so if you could uh...separate from your partner and come to the conference room... ... ...Thank you."

Bucky rested his forehead against Jenna's.

"We completely ignored the fact that we are being monitored didn't we?"

Jenna chuckled and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and then smiled at his back as he left the holding room.

"Those poor interns."

[scary-noodlesblog]

Hunters Guide To Love Chapter 3

Hollywood Babylon Part 2/?

Sam's POV:

      I lean back against the wall, watching Tara act along with my cousin and the other actors. McG telling them different commands and orders. Tara's character, Wendy, walks into the prop abandoned house.

   "Wendy?" Mitch calls out.

   "Oh Mitch!" Wendy exclaims feigning shock, "you're alive!"

   "Cant get rid of me that easily," Mitch smirks.

   McG called out to the FX guys, rumble rumble rumble.

    Wendy begins to pace a little, "salt. Okay we need salt. I read in that book that it keeps ghosts away!"

    Mitch nods and turns to Charley  and the other two actors, "Linda, Kendra, Logan, you guys go check the back."

    Next to me I can hear my "coworker" Marty whisper to the producer, Jay, "Jay, the poor bastard killed himself. Like, for real. Shouldn't we shut it down or something?" At least this guy has some common decency.

   Jay shrugs, "we had a moment of silence for him at breakfast, plus he's just a studio guy."

   I shift my weight and side glance Jay, "How charming" I mutter sarcastically.

   McG turns around, shushing us before I hear Wendy yell to Mitch, "I love you!"

   Mitch nods, "I know." Aaand they ripped off Star Wars. My critical thoughts were interrupted when I hear Tara break character and sigh, "can we- can we cut or something?"

  McG gives her a small look, "uh...yeah, cut. Cut!"

  I jump slightly as I hear Dean yell "cut!" from my right. I look over and he seems to be having the time of his life, eating his taquito. McG pouts, "only I can say cut!" Then he turns to approach Tara. I listen to the crew argue about if salt would make sense to use on a spirit, to which I smirk a little. If only they knew.

  I notice Sam heading over to talk to Dean. I move away but stay within earshot of the two. Dean speaks up, "Walters a little testy for a PA, huh?"

  "How is it going in here?" Sam asks.

  "It's going really good man. Tara's really stepped up on her performance. I think its probably from all the sense memory stuff she's drawing on."

  Sam looks at Dean confusedly, "sense memory?" Dean nods. "Dean, you, you know when I ask how it's going on in here, Im talking about the case right? We dont really work here. You know, I thought you hated being a P.A."

  Dean shuffles his feet, "I dont know. It's not so bad. I kind of feel like part of the team, you know? It's good," he holds his plate out to Sam, "oh, taquito? They're wonderful."

   His brother declines again, "ummm, I conned my way into the morgue."

  Dean raises his eyebrow, "and?"

  "News reports are right: Brads a doornail, no question."

   I smirk slightly, "perfect." I turn away and head off to find Maggie and Charley.

Maggie's POV:

      I take off my headphones and point it out to Charley and Sam. "See! Its a class A EVP right there!"

   "I took electromagnetic reading earlier, they were off the charts insane," Sam spoke up.

  "I also saw some of the tapes from when Brad was hung, I saw a woman with rope burn around her neck, she looked pretty young too. I did some research, her name was Elise Drummond, an actress from the 30's. She had an affair with a studio exec. and he used her, so she hung herself." Charley chimes.

   "Perfect, and her grave?"

   "The 'Hollywood Forever' Cemetery."

   "Alright girls, we're digging tonight."

Charley's POV:

   We enter the cemetery, shovels in hand. Maggie is holding the map while Sam keeps a lookout for any guards.

    "Where to?" I ask.

    "Just up ahead. Make sure--," Maggie's sentence is cut off by two male voices. All three of us hush each other and crouch slightly behind a bush.

    "Of course its the goddamn Winchesters," Maggie curses quietly.

    We see Dean gesture to a memorial for Humpty Dumpty, "this map is totally worth the five bucks! Hey, we've gotta go check out Johnny Ramone's grave when we're done."

     Sam gives him a skeptical look, "you wanna dig him up too?"

    "Bite your tongue heathen!"

    Maggie starts to snicker and we rush to silence her, but its too late, the boys had pointed their shotguns at us. They slowly move toward us and we ready our shovels, as that is the only form of weapon we have.

   As soon as they move the branches, Sam's face softens and Dean just looks even more pissed off.

   We all freeze, and try to come up with a clever explanation for why we're hiding behind a bush. I frantically glance at Maggie because she's usually the one with the plan.

"Why are you following us?" Dean asks us, fuming.

  "Wait, Dean I think I've seen them around the set a few times. She's a PA, she's an actress, and she's a technician." Sam says pointing at each of us.

  Dean sighs, "well, names?"

  Maggie stands up and extends her hand, "Maggie Davis, this is Sam and Charley"

  "Well Dean and Sam." Dean gestures and shakes her hand.

  "Thats gunna get confusing," our Sam says.

  "Youll just be Samantha," I giggle as she groans.

  I go and start digging up the grave, Maggie and Samantha following, the boys come soon after.

  Once we get to the coffin, Dean pulls up the lid to it, revealing the corpse of the dead actress.

  I cringe and Sam salts the bones before Dean tosses his lighter onto it.

Meanwhile.... 3rd Person POV:

  Jay tries to find his way around the dark set, when he sees the shadowy figure of a man walk by. "Hey! Hey, pal! Can you, uh, show me to the exit? I can't see a damn thing in here."

  The man turns away from him and doesnt respond. "Hey! Hey, putz! Im talking to you! Somebody could get hurt here!" Jay exclaims.

   Suddenly the man turns around, his face slashed open and grotesque, a section of his skull split open. Jay screams and falls back on the ground.

   "W-what the hell?" He stutters.

   The fans suddenly turn on by themselves. The man starts to flicker before he vanishes, Jay tries to crawl away but the fan starts to drag him backwards. He gets sucked into the fan and torn apart by the blades, his blood spraying everywhere.

[superspifferrific]

Marvel AU: You and I remember Germany VERY differently

Marvel AU Concept: A Winter Soldier that wasn’t quite as well brain-washed as Hydra would’ve liked . . .

So this time when Hydra sends their little Winter Soldier to off Howard Stark, Stark takes one look and goes, “Bucky Barnes? What the actual fuck dude.” (Because Howard hung out around Steve Rogers, and probably spent at least some time around/hearing about the other Commandos, so why address his friend Steve’s bestie by his rank?) And the Winter Soldier gets as far as, “Who the hell is -” before, bam! Years of brain blending are now down the tubes as the simple act of hearing/thinking his name again has banished the Winter Soldier and brought back Bucky Barnes. (Because that stubborn shit somehow managed to subconsciously hang onto his nickname being a trigger to bring himself back, both because he IS that stubborn and because it’s convenient for my plot. ANYWAY.) Bucky, last he remembers, was plummeting to his death in the mountains but now finds himself standing in the middle of the friggin’ woods in front of a random old couple with no god damn clue what the hell is going on. He is somewhat cranky about this.

Howard and Bucky stand around talking for a bit and staying very confused, because wtf Barnes you’ve been dead for like 50 years but you’re standing here looking like a freaking goth male model and wtf Stark is like a 30-something-year-old mad scientist man-whore not an old married dude tf are you?? Eventually Howard, while still hella confused, is at least convinced it’s Barnes so he sighs and tells Bucky to get in loser, I’ll deliver my latest batch of science-I-REALLY-shouldn’t-have-tampered-with breakthrough to Carter to be pissed at me for later. (After all, resurrected dead friends is a level of bullshit even Peggy is likely to give him a pass for dealing with first - as long as he’s not the one responsible for having caused it, anyway.) So Bucky, while still not sure what to believe, still finds himself lost in the middle of the damn woods and not even knowing which damn woods so he decides to at least agree to bum a ride for now but stay on guard.

Howard heads back home to sort things out and upon walking into the house probably finds Tony, a teenage boy left unsupervised, doing literally everything and everyone he isn’t supposed to, and most likely in the middle of the freaking living room or something no less. “Well, you’re home early.” Howard looks ready to blow his stack and Maria looks mortified, but everyone freezes as Bucky just cracks. the fuck. UP. “I’m still not convinced you’re actually Howard, but if you were that kid would definitely be yours.” Howard buries his face in his hands while Tony promptly smirks and decides he likes whoever the hell this guy is.

. . . Until a little while later, when he finds out the random dude his parents brought home with them is supposed to be the second-in-command of the legendary Howling Commandos, the larger-than-life hero of World War II and best friend of the man Tony Stark loathes most in the world, Captain Perfect. Barnes just stands there in supreme confusion as Tony rants on and on about how his dad never shuts up about how freaking wonderful Captain America was, how goddamn perfect the Man with a Plan was; how he always knew what to do, how he always did the right thing, how he had his priorities and his shit SO sorted and on lock and ‘Tony why can’t you be like that’ and just UGH. Bucky is wondering amusedly if maybe Tony’s somehow confused Stevie with the character he played during the USO tour when his thoughts suddenly whirl to a full stop after finally catching on the word Tony kept using: ‘was.’ Tony stops mid-rant when Barnes suddenly just drops.

After finally pulling himself together somewhat (to Tony’s immense relief, god, please don’t let me accidentally break my dad’s 2nd-favorite war hero like immediately) Bucky manages to croak out, “How long?” Seeing the blank look on Stark jr.’s face, he explains that he wants to know long it took after he supposedly died before Steve decided to join him. Tony replies by reciting the epic saga of Captain America’s Last Great Noble Sacrifice, which Howard has told him so many times he probably knows it better than his own name by this point. By the end of it Barnes looks ready to kill someone and Tony is hella confused because, “Shouldn’t you be proud of your friend? Isn’t that just SO Captain America? Like why are you even surprised??” And Bucky, SUPER pissed, is just like, “Yeah, I suppose I shouldn’t be, should I? I left that moron alone for ten minutes so he took all the stupid and ran with it; goddamn it Stevie! UGH.” This is followed by a multi-hour-long rant/bitchfest of how many ways Steve could’ve done things differently and exactly how big of an idiot he was and some highlights of the Stupid Shit he pulled during missions as Captain America and during their childhood running loose trying to pick a fight with half of Brooklyn. ”’Perfect Man Who Always Knew What He Was Doing’ my ass.”

After he’s finished explaining what Steve was really like to the skeptical teen, Bucky promptly heads off to find Howard and call him out on his bullshit. “He picked a fight with Nazi Germany because I was missing because of it and because it was a good excuse to fight a bullying country, Howard. Wtf kind of bullshit have you been feeding your brat about us? You’re giving him anxiety already, knock it off.”

Eventually Bucky decides to go after Steve, because end of the line means end of the fucking line and I am bringing my moron home goddamnit. This should have been a pretty hopeless task, but between an enthusiastic Peggy putting all of SHIELD’s resources at their disposal, Stark Sr.’s rekindled obsession and addition of all of Stark Industries’ resources, Stark Jr.’s willingness to lend a hand because it’s the only thing he’s allowed to do while grounded-until-he’s-30, and Bucky Barnes’ unfailing Steve’s-in-trouble-must-locate-my-idiot senses, it was an astonishingly short period of time before Steve Rogers was found and then defrosted. (Bucky sat with Steve’s body while they thawed him out, ostensibly for his funeral, so you can imagine the freak-out that occurred when his best friend’s ‘corpse’ suddenly rolled over and started mumbling the words to ‘Star-Spangled Man With a Plan’ in his sleep).

Steve and Bucky, reunited at last, have a very messy, somewhat violent, utterly heartbreaking and incredibly tear- and swear-filled reunion before being loosed upon ‘the future.’ They then take it upon themselves to spend time with what’s left of their old friends, whip Howard into being at least no less of a decent human being than he was when they met him, and revamping the Captain America legacy to make it less of a legend of a perfect human being (Steve was literally crying laughing when he heard what people thought he was like) and more the story of a bunch of brave idiots trying to do what they could to help.

SHIELD has fits over them giving their versions of how some of the stories went either because “That’s classified!!” or  “You’re destroying a legacy!” or, their favorite, “That’s not even remotely how that could have possibly gone. No. NO. You did NOT punch a robot Adolf Hitler hundreds of times before melting the Red Skull into a puddle of goo like the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz using a magic light box, no less. NO. Just, please, please stop talking.” Peggy and the remaining Commandos find the whole thing amazing and hilarious and thus refuse to refute anything those two say, and Steve and Bucky help raise Tony Stark to be a much more put together adult, help out with the odd SHIELD mission when they feel the need to punch something or Hydra’s being irritating, and just generally have a good time. That is, they do until the events of the Avengers rolls around, at which point they then proceed to have a great time fighting with a team of ridiculous, well-intentioned, violent thrill-seekers again and decide to make it a regular thing. “This is gonna be GREAT Buck, you’ll see.” “That’s what you said about World War II Steve.”

[sending-the-message]

Fifty Ways Holesome (Final) by ByfelsDisciple

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

I drove down the highway in a daze. I know that people would be judging me if they were here, but I just don’t give a fuck right now. Until you’ve mercy-killed a stranger that was supposed to be next on your serial killer-husband’s to-do list, you don’t have a clue.

It wasn’t a great day.

I was so dazed that it took me twenty minutes to realize that the itching sensation on my chest was because I had forgotten that I was wearing nipple clamps. I didn’t do anything about them, though.

I just drove. Byron continued to grip the knife.

At least he’d put on pants. That was nice.

I drove over a pothole, and the body bounced around in the back. I distantly thought about how nice it was that her blood had been drained out. It wouldn’t stain the trunk.

“You’re doing just fine, Rebecca,” Byron sneered. “We’re almost at the empty field. My coworker Mikey will meet us there.”

I nodded vaguely. I didn’t know he’d had a coworker named Mikey. There were a lot of things I didn’t know about my husband, it turns out.

“I’d originally wanted my friend Gordon to help me out – that broke bastard would do anything for a buck. But he disappeared a few weeks back, probably doing something stupid.”

I had known about Gordon, but just didn’t care at the moment.

“Why are you doing this, Byron?” I was crying silently.

His arms were trembling. Byron tried to appear confident, but it wasn’t working; he looked like he was going to throw up. It came out as tears instead. He turned away from me. When he spoke, it was with the warbled imbalance of a breaking man.

“I’m scared for you, Becca. I’m scared of me.” He took in a trembling gasp. “I’d destroy the world for you.”

My knuckles stayed white.

“Turn in here.”

I pulled off of the highway and followed a two-lane road with no buildings on either side. Five minutes later, he signaled the turnoff to a dirt path leading into a field.

A smiling man was waiting with a shovel.

They didn’t make me dig, but I wish they had. I wanted something to distract me from Mikey’s constant leering at my chest. I realize that the clamps must have been prominently poking through my top, but I wasn’t about to let him see me pull them off.

I tried to distract myself by peering around the field. The sky was steel-gray, and there were no trees nearby. I looked at the ground. I wish I hadn’t.

It took me a minute to realize what I was seeing. Some of the earth was hard packed, but there were interspersed patches of freshly-turned loam at frequent and irregular intervals. My stomach lurched when I realized that this was my husband’s burial ground.

I felt woozy and imbalanced. I tried to steady myself when I looked down.

The imbalanced feeling had come from the fact that I was standing on fresh, uneven soil. I was in the middle of a patch that was six feet long and three feet wide. As I tried to steady myself, my pumps just sunk deeper into the dirt.

I staggered and nearly fell. Mikey cackled. “That’s one of the fresh ones! Careful, those have the most worms!”

I’d heard of “seeing red” plenty of times in my life, but that moment was when I realized the phrase could be quite literal.

That was the moment.

I steadied myself, took a deep breath, and waited for them to finish digging.

I forced myself to watch as they dragged her body from the trunk. It moved like a potato sack, devoid of all the correctional balances that a warm human makes even in sleep. Her arms flopped like rubbery cheese as they rolled her into the ground.

They didn’t close her eyes.

When they were done, Byron slipped a roll of cash to Mikey, who didn’t count it. How could he, when his eyes were fixated on my ass?

Byron’s eyes never left the ground. Byron never said a thing.

They slid one shovel back into the trunk and slammed it closed. Mikey slung the other over his shoulder and flashed us a yellow-toothed grin.

“Don’t worry, pal, I walked. No license plates to be seen, no nothin’.” He smiled wider. His breath smelled like musty cabbage.

My husband turned without a word, and indicated that I should get in the driver’s seat.

It dawned on me that I could have driven off without him before this, and likely would have escaped his knife. But I simply had no idea where to go or what to do.

At least, not until I saw red.

I got in the car and started driving out of the field. I went slowly at first, then began to pick up speed. I wanted to get out of there.

I wanted this to be over with.

I don’t think that my husband truly understood my wants.

I knew that Mikey didn’t, at least not until I floored the gas and slammed into him at sixty miles an hour.

God damn, a human body can fly high up in the air.

I didn’t check to see if he was dead. In truth, I hoped that he wasn’t.

At least not immediately. He would die eventually; I had hit him too hard to doubt that.

But I thought it would do him good to feel a little pain. It can be quite a thrill.

Byron hadn’t said a word. He simply stared at me, slack-jawed, as I turned on the windshield wipers to clean the blood.

Without looking, I slid my hand over his crotch. He didn’t resist.

Then I yanked the knife out of his hand, and tossed it out the window as we were crossing a bridge.

*

It didn’t take them long to find Mikey’s body after a stray dog carried a severed human hand into a nearby town.

The rest went as expected. The shovel led the authorities to dig up the field, and they found the corpses of twelve women.

When they were alive, they had all looked like me.

Mikey had traces of the most recent woman’s DNA on him. His whereabouts were unknown during all of the murders. The shovel near his broken body had clearly been used to dig the graves.

His personal history wasn’t working in his favor, either. He’d been caught while stealing panties from a nursing home, and it turns out that you can only be arrested for public masturbation so many times before society considers you to be an irredeemable weirdo.

That, and there haven’t been any murders since his body was found.

As for Mikey – well, he wasn’t disputing the story. To the public, the Richmond Strangler had been found.

The truth is a funny thing, though. It really depends on your perspective.

And there are many shades of gray.

*

Before you judge me, think of my predicament.

Byron was a bastard. But turning him in would devastate my world. How does someone recover from being ‘that girl who married a serial killer’?

She doesn’t.

On the other hand, the victims’ families deserved closure. They needed someone to blame.

In addition, the world had to to be safe from Byron. He couldn’t be trusted to be free in society. Not when he was afraid of himself. Not when everyone else should be afraid of him.

And above all, he needed to be punished.

*

Yes, Byron was a bastard. But he was my bastard.

Mikey’s death took care of the whole ‘closure’ and ‘blame’ issues quite nicely. No one looked too deeply past the idea that this one panty-stealing fucker had killed all those women by himself.

Frankly, everyone was eager to move on.

But the rest of those issues were up to me to solve.

“Hi Byron,” I called casually as I walked in the door after work. “How was your day?”

“Same as always,” he muttered in a bored tone.

“That’s nice, dear,” I mumbled back, dropping my briefcase and keys on the table before walking into the bedroom. I kicked off my shoes, reached under my skirt, and dropped my panties to the floor. “How’s the catheter working?”

He sighed. “Fine. It’s better than holding it in all day.” He looked down at my feet as I stepped out of the panties. “Look, I’m not really in the mood right nnnnyyyaaaAAAHHH!”

I pulled back the electric prod and watched his penis grow to full staff. It sprang easily through the wider opening that I had sawed into the cage.

Actually, there had been plenty of time to make preparations after we’d gotten back to the house that day. Can you believe that he fell for the ‘paint can to the head’ routine twice?

I’d restrained him immediately the second time, though. I’m a fast learner.

“Look, Becca, I think that you should consider letting me out of this cage for just a little biiiiiiihuuuuhhh…” His voice trailed off as I slid the entirety of his shaft into my pussy. I’d been thinking about him caged in our bed all day, and had neither the time nor the inclination for foreplay.

Of course, I would never let him out of the cage. I control everything about his body now. And you know what?

I think that deep down, he kind of likes it.

Besides, it’s a public safety issue.

And I’m really liking our newly-changed roles. It’s such a fucking thrill to be the one administering punishment.

The sex is tricky, though.

I have to balance my hands and feet awkwardly on the metal bars to position myself above his crotch. Squatting on his caged face is even harder, although it’s made rimjobs somehow more thrilling. And I’m still working out the mechanics of a good pegging, but with time, I’m sure I’ll get it down.

It’s a lot of work to get it just right. And slamming against the metal bars can be quite painful on my ass and thighs. When we finish, my skin is often raw, bruised, and bloody.

But you know what?

I love the bruises the best.

[onlyonewoman]

Girls (or: the battle of skirts and potatos)

Another lowbones ficlet from the modern AU Aces of Spades and Hearts/Down Foreverdark Woods Trail series with Billy and Ned as an asexual married couple, set around eighteen years later, when Billy’s and Ned’s adoptive daughter Roisin is in her late teens, starting with... potatos. ***                   ”Honestly, I’m not so into this.” ”Why? ’Cause they’re Americans? You’re such a snob.” ”Watch it. I have more reasons to hate the English than Americans.” Ned finished peeling the last potato and put the pot on the stow. Billy pouted and did his best puppy eyes. ”I’m so sorry for the way my country treated you, Mr. Manderly-Low. Please, accept my peace offering.” He picked up a bag of potatos from the shopping bag and in the next second, he was running for his life, laughing, with a trail of earthy potatos and a one-eyed Irishman after him. ”Hey, hey! Stop it, Ned!” ”Ye’re such a bag of dicks!” ”That’s our food you’re throwing!” ”Aye. Enjoying it?” Billy jumped into the living room and fetched his armed husband from the doorway, locking him in a tight hug. ”Surrender!” ”Never!” ”What the hell are you guys doing?” The two combattants turned around to their sixteen-year-old, standing with raised eyebrows and crossed arms in the hallway. Billy quickly let go of his husband and cleared his throat. ”Uhm… hi, pumpkin. How was football practise?” ”Good. Why are you running around with potatos?” ”Oh, you know your da… Loves potatos. Ouch!” Ned elbowed Billy and Roisin rolled her eyes. ”You’re so lame! It’s gonna be so embarressing when Lucy’s parents come over.” Ned rose his hands. ”I swear: no potato throwing, no Ireland vs. England jokes and no black metal. And no football.” Roisin kicked one of the potatos through the kitchen door. ”Actually, please talk about football, then at least her dad will be happy.” ”And her maw?” ”Sorry, da. No theatre or books. She’s a broker and leads aerobic classes.” ”Oh, for fucks sake…” Ned shook his head and Billy choked a laughter as he turned the heat down on the stove. ”Don’t worry, Rose, we’ll behave. Promise. Right, Ned?” ”I’ll behave. They’re not Christians, I hope?” ”Protestant fundamentalists. I think their ancestors fought against the Catholics on Ireland. They have necklaces made from the teeth of Irish babies. Really Catholic babies.” Roisin grinned and Ned patted her cheek. ”Very funny, pumpkin. Now go get yer clothes in the laundry before they mold. Dinner’s ready in ten.” ”What’s more than thrown potatos?” ”Plaice and carrots.” ”Thrown?” ”Laundry. Now.” ”Yes, da. Oh, can I go see Lucy after dinner?” Ned gave her a curious look. ”Didn’t ye just see her at school?” ”So? I can’t see my friends now?” Ned rolled his eyes. ”Just kidding, pumpking. As long as ye’re home by ten. School night, ye know.” Roisín gave her da a quick hug. ”Thanks, da!” Their daughter disappeared from the kitchen and Ned started with the carrots and seasoned the fish, still smiling to himself, shaking his head. Billy opened the door to let Gwin out in the garden and then he fetched his husband’s cardigan, draping it over him by the sink. Ned snorted. ”Didn’t even ask for it.” ”Lift your feet.” Wollen socks and Ned wanted to say he didn’t need them, but the autumn air was chilly and the door open for Gwin. Sometimes Ned thought his husband knew him far too well. Billy wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled his hair. ”You know, you’re so alike, you and Rose, I almost get jealous sometimes.” ”Come on, Billy… She fucking adores ye.” ”You think we should, you know, encourage her to be more… girly?” ”What?” Billy shrugged. ”Well, you know… Wear skirts and stuff, buy make-up…” ”Sweetheart, I hate to break this to ye, but yer daughter’s sixteen and if she by some mysterious reason doesn’t know what to wear, she wont ask us. She’ll ask…” ”John. I know, I know, it’s just that…” ”What? Ye want her to wear more pink so she’ll remember she’s a beaur?” ”Alright, I’m silly.” ”Aye, ye are. What are ye really worrying ’bout, muppet?” ”Uhm…” The sound of Roisin coming down from her room had Billy give Ned a quick kiss on the ear. ”We’ll talk later, hon.” To be honest, Billy wasn’t very keen on having a second dinner date with Roisin’s friends parents either. Not because they were American, but because Ned wasn’t very comfortable with new people. But since their daughters were hanging out regularly and Lucy’s mother had insisted on a dinner and it would’ve been rude not to make an invitation in return, Billy and Ned now had a dinner for eight planned this Saturday, including four parents and four kids. Ned was already on the brink of a migraine and Billy simply counted the days in silence. Ned gave Gwin and Betsy their food and put the dinner on the table while Billy lit some candles. The old kitchen with creaking planks, blue checkered curtains and plants Betsy always tried to chew on gave Ned a calm sense of happiness inside. He felt safe, lucky, just being in his own home with his husband and daughter, his dog and cat. And for being such a ”lame” da, Roisín certainly had a lot to talk to him about. His teenage daughter still had her moments of thinking both her parents were complete idiots, but mostly she talked worse than John, meaning she actually liked her stupid dads. Just like Ned, she wore a metal t-shirt – Cannibal Corpse – and she used Billy’s old Liverpool scarf to school. If that was being lame parents, Ned didn’t really mind. ”Da?” ”Yeah, sweetheart?” ”I need new trousers.” ”Uh-huh. Ye have yer allowance.” ”But these are on sale now… Just this weekend.” Roisín had her pleading eyes and Ned looked at Billy, who put his fork down. ”You have more trousers than me and your da combined, darling. How about a nice skirt?” ”Skirt? Really daddy?” ”Yeah, why not? You’re a sweet girl and you’d look cute in a skirt.” ”Oh, lord…” Ned groaned and shut his eyes, as his husband and daughter began one of their endless discussions about clothes. ”Would you rather have me dressed like a slut?” ”Hey, we don’t use that word unless we’re talking about actual people who’re self-confirmed sluts, like John and you know that, young lady.” ”Whatever! Da, say something!” ”Nah-uh, ye’re not pulling me into this, sweetie. I don’t care what ye’re wearing as long as ye’re dressing properly according to weather. Unless ye decide to wear fucking nazi stuff or I don’t know... heels that might give ye sprained ankles. Then and only then I’ll be worried.” Billy sighed. ”Thanks for the support, Ned.” ”I’m not gonna waste any time trying to convince her to buy some damn skirt she wont use.” ”Thank you, da.” ”But ye have a stuffed wardrobe and what’s so special about these trousers? What colour?” ”Uhm… black.” ”Sweetheart, ye have at least four pair of black trousers.” ”Three.” ”Four. I found yer supposed lost ones behind the laundry basket this morning.” ”Oh…” ”So how about ye wash’em before buying anymore clothes ye don’t need – with or without legs.” ”Uhm… Yeah, I can… have a look at them.” ”That sounds really good, pumpkin. More fish?” *** They’d been married for more than twenty years and Ned’s hair had stains of grey in it, Billy’s wrinkles around the eyes had become more significant and they were still in love. When they’d finished their dinner and Roisìn had left to see Lucy, they took Gwin out for a walk before landing by the fire, a movie on Ned’s laptop and some beer to have a nice evening to themselves. Gwin and Betsy joined them soon. Billy cardened his fingers through his husband’s hair and Ned took a sip of his beer. ”What were ye worrying ’bout, muppet?” ”Nothing, really. Guess I just want her to be my little girl a while longer…” ”Oh, hon… She’ll always be our little girl. She just doesn’t like skirts.” ”Can’t understand why.” ”And I can’t understand why ye’re so obsessed with her wearing’em, Billy. Can ye explain that to me, ’cause I really don’t get this.” ”It’s just… they look pretty on her.” ”And? Ye think she looks bad in trousers, or what?” ”No, of course not. I don’t know, Ned, I just… Damnit, she’s so independent. I don’t know what she needs me for any longer…” ”Whoa, whoa… Stop it right there. How many daddies do ye know who get to take their sixteen year old daughter to games in matching sweaters? Teenage daughters asking for concert tickets to music their da’s like? She’s still practising football in our garden with you before a game, Billy. What more do ye ask?” ”That she’d put on a skirt every once in a while? Is that too much to ask?” ”Aye, it is. Stop pouting and bring me another beer.” ”She has tons of trousers and…” ”Billy…” ”What?” ”Do ye love me?” ”I… Of course I love you.” ”Then stop talking about clothes and bring me another beer. Ye know all we have to do is to make John suggest her to wear something and she’ll consider it. Christ…” Billy fetched a couple of beers and pouted. Ned planted a quick kiss on his mouth grabbed a bottle, let Gwin climb up in the couch and looked at the watch. ”You want me to drive her home tonight?” ”No, I’ll do it.” ”Sure? Ye’re not tired?” ”Not really. And I should talk to Lucy’s mom.” ”Oh, honey… She wont be there.” ”Why wouldn’t… Oh… Right. Teens. You think they’re having boys over?” Ned laughed so hard he spilled some beer on poor Gwin, who looked highly offended. ”Oh, God… this is… Sweetheart…” ”What?” Billy looked completely clueless and Ned bursted from laughter, shaking his head. ”This is priceless, fucks sake, Billy…” Billy pouted. ”Yeah, go on and laugh at your apparently stupid husband, by all means…” ”Sorry, hon, but… When was the last time ye heard Roisín talk about bucks?” ”What do you mean?” ”Sweetheart, she’s having a big poster of Kim Stolz on her bedroom wall.” ”Who the hell’s that?” ”If I say Glee and The L Word, Tipping the Velvet and Casey fucking Stoney, does it ring any bell?” ”Casey Stoney? The football player?” ”With a wife.” ”With a... Oh… Wait what? You mean…?” ”Our daughter is probably a lesbian. Congratulations, hon. The risk of being an early grandfather is significantly decreased and the reason she’s worried about how lame we will be, is because she doesn’t want to look stupid in front of her beour.” ”My daughter’s a lesbian…?” ”Don’t tell me ye’re upset, ’cause that’s just hypocritical.” ”Upset?” Billy grinned and left the couch, leaving Ned to exchange exasperated looks with Gwin and Betsy and then came back with a small tray with two fine glasses and a bottle of really fancy wine. Ned groaned but Billy just kept smiling wide like he’d won the lottery and poured two glasses, handing one of them to his eye-rolling husband. ”Upset? I’m fucking overjoyed! To lesbian daughters!” ”And their gay fathers… I guess. Cheers, muppet.” ”We did a pretty good job, didn’t we?” ”Speaking as if we were done…Ye know John will be so upset.” “Why?” “Because for once, his famous gaydar isn’t working.” “You mean I’m not actually the last to know?” “No, ye’re not.” Billy’s grin turned almost malicious and he kissed his eye-rolling husband. “I love you.” “I love ye too. And we’re missing half of the movie, so shut up, muppet.” THE END