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cherrylovelycherry · 1 day

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𓂅new order. "pain aux raisins, pain au chocolat and uh... a soufflé."

"Surprise, muddle fudger!"

pairing. Boothill x gn!reader cw/genre. action, some nsfw(desperate kisses with tongue), violence, implied deaths, weapons (guns and knives), no gore, anyway mdni full menu

You and Boothill were… Rivals at best. With both of you being mercenaries, it was easy to get competitive. Ironically, you knew each other the best. So, of course, after you pissed off a bunch of higher-ups and gained a large bounty on your head, Boothill was the first one on the case. He was confident he'd be the one to bring you in, dead or alive. It was only normal to chase after your rival, right?

Boothill had your face memorized for this job. But then again, he's had your face memorized for a while. He was confident he would catch you, and you were confident you wouldn't get caught. Though, you had a strong feeling that Boothill was on your trail. This feeling was proven correct when the familiar click of a gun echoed into the room. Here you were hoping to finish this mission without a hassle.

"There's a huge bounty on your head, sweetheart. How 'bout you make this easy f'me and come along without a fight?"

Boothill smirked as he stood in the doorway to the dimly lit room. He had his weapon leveled and aimed at your head. Of course, you knew he wouldn't kill you, but he might mess up your appearance a bit. His expression seemed to be a mix of excitement and annoyance. Maybe he was eager to turn in his former rival and gain the bounty for himself. On the other hand, his annoyance might have something to do with the fact that he'd prefer not to fight you. This job had already made him frustrated, but knowing you, you'd make it harder for him.

"I really am hopin' it doesn't have to come to shooting you darlin'." he said, his voice low.

"But if it comes down to it, so be it." There was an air of teasing around Boothill's tone, as if he was enjoying the situation. He had always relished challenging you. But now, there was something else in his eyes as he stood in front of you. Was that a flicker of affection?

You rolled your eyes at the slight thought of that.

"Ya know I'm not just gonna turn myself in, pretty boy." You responded, turning to him with a smirk. Your hand slowly hovered over your own weapon, ready for a fight if you needed to.

The both of you were quite skilled, which made the rivalry all the more exciting. You knew you'd be in for one hell of a fight.

"Now, I don't know what you did to get every mercenary on your trail, but I'd say your best bet is coming with me."

Boothill slowly lowered his weapon as he approached with caution. This was the first time he'd seen you in a bit, and he clearly hadn't expected for you to look so exhausted. Your condition didn't look too good, and he could see how you'd probably have difficulty fighting right now. He also seemed to notice the injuries you had from previous fights with the other mercenaries. He could see a few bullet wounds and a couple scratches.

Despite that, you seemed very willing to face it. Everything to fight for your freedom and life, nothing new.

He took a few more steps forward, his weapon still in his hand. His eyes were studying your features, taking in your tired expression. He hadn't expected to see you this way – beaten and weak. He was a bit concerned, but it also made him more confident, knowing you weren't at your full strength at the moment. He knew you'd still put up a fight despite your condition, though. You'd never give up without a struggle.

"I can see ya ain't looking too good."

Boothill raised his eyebrow as he got closer. He kept his weapon lowered, a signal that he wasn't going to shoot you for now.

He spoke slowly, as if trying his best to not upset you.

"Listen, you're a very skilled merc. I know you're strong as hell, but you're in no condition to fight right now."

He took another step closer before pausing, his eyes scanning the room. From what he could tell, the whole building was silent. No other mercenaries or enemies around to interfere. Just the two of you - alone.

"So…turn yourself in and it's over."

Silence.

"Haha, you're so funny!" You spoke, unsheathing your gun, aiming it straight at his head.

Your finger was on the trigger of the gun in your hand.

"Don't you dare take another fucking step because I'll blow your little brain away."

You held your ground, aiming your own weapon at him in warning. Boothill froze in place, clearly knowing the risks of making a wrong move. He had seen this stubborn side of you many times before, and he wasn't surprised by you threatening him.

Seeing you like this wasn't unfamiliar to him. In fact, he'd seen you at your worse moments before. He'd seen the rage and the pain, and he'd witnessed the moments when you'd been too exhausted to fight.

But now, it really didn't look like you were slightly injured.

He didn't seem shocked you weren't giving up. No - he seemed excited. This was exactly how he'd expected you to respond. His gaze was locked on yours, his expression one of cocky overconfidence.

"I ain't gonna lie, you're lookin' pretty damn sexy right now"

He responded, his voice low and teasing. You heard a chuckle escape his lips as his eyes flickered over you. He clearly enjoyed the danger this situation posed – the thrill that only you ever got him.

"You're insufferable"

You rolled your eyes once more, though there was a smirk on your lips. It was no secret that you and Boothil had a bit of a history together. After all, your relationship was mostly based around competition and flirting.

Despite your injuries, you stood there defiantly, unbothered by his flirtatious remark. Of course, he would take the time to give you compliments, even when you could shoot him right here, right now. However, the compliment didn't seem like an empty one either.

He was staring at you with the same cocky expression on his face, but there was more in his eyes than the teasing. There was a clear admiration and affection there.

"It's not good for you to make assumptions too soon, precious." You said.

Maybe he was right, maybe he wasn't. You were a little hurt from the recent fights against other nosy guys, but the adrenaline in your body put you back together in one way or another.

Boothill let out a soft chuckle at your response, his eyes gleaming with amusement. It was difficult to not get caught up in this sort of flirting exchange. His gaze remained locked on you, taking in the sight of your injuries despite your determination.

As he studied you, his gaze slowly travelled down your body, admiring your injured but still impressive form. His smirk widened, clearly impressed by how you were holding yourself together despite everything.

"Oh, I wasn't assuming, sweetcheeks." He replied, taking a step closer. "I was stating a damn fact— "

His words were somewhat cut off by the gunshot next to his face. The thing you loved most about yourself was your very good aim.

"My eyes are up here." You spoke mockingly.

"And I said don't come any closer." You were ready to shoot him, you weren't kidding.

"Damn, you're not afraid to play dirty, huh?" He grinned.

A chuckle escaped his lips again as he stopped himself from moving any closer. His cocky demeanor was still present, but he had to admit that he found it amusing when you shot near his face. He really liked your feisty attitude.

"Fine, fine. I won't come any closer." He said with a smirk, raising his hands slightly as if surrendering to your demand.

He stepped back, putting some distance between the two of you. He still kept his eyes on you, but he tried to contain his previous overconfidence.

You kept your eyes locked on him, a sense of pride swelling within you. Despite the danger you were still in, you smirked back at him, relishing the moment of victory.

"Wise call, pretty boy." You taunted.

He had no choice but to keep his distance, and you enjoyed knowing that you had a bit of an advantage here. Though Boothill had no intentions of actually killing you, he was confident that he would win this fight. He just had to outsmart you somehow.

Your steps stopped abruptly when a bullet passed in front of your eyes.

"Shit." They shot out of the window. They almost blew your brain.

You quickly moved to cover yourself so that this time they would have the opportunity to shoot you. However, you still had to be careful with Boothill.

Your expression hardened as you slowly took a look behind you to see who was shooting you. You saw several men in military uniforms, carrying various types of guns. There were at least two snipers on the roof. They must have been the ones who shot through the window.

Although you felt flattered that so many people came after you, it seemed somewhat unfair to you. You were in a matchup more on par with Boothill, while the others were too far down for you.

You returned your attention to Boothill. He seemed a little surprised by the sudden interruption.

"Seems someone else is trying to claim that bounty on your head." He said, leaning against the wall.

He was still keeping his distance, knowing that they could shoot you both at any moment. You could tell from his body language that he didn't really want to fight them. Although well, he wanted you just for himself. He claimed you first.

The effects of the adrenaline that were diminishing and the injuries were affecting you, so you were not really at your 100%, an advantage for the other people who were also chasing you.

Boothill, seeing one of these uniformed men at the door of the room, did not hesitate to shoot.

"You're welcome, doll."

Boothill's bullet hit the man's shoulder, causing him to fall and yell aloud. His cry immediately attracted the attention of his accomplices, who were now rushing towards the building.

You had to be quick.

"Damn it, Boothill."

You didn't want to keep fighting; you were tired and wanted this whole thing to end. However, you really didn't have a choice. You were outnumbered, and they were determined to take you in one way or another.

"I was going to shoot them myself, you know." You replied sarcastically, taking a deep breath to compose yourself.

As you spoke, another bullet flew past you, barely missing your head. You had to take cover again, though you still managed to look at Boothill with a slight smirk. He just rolled his eyes in response.

"Yeah, sure you were." He said, a tinge of teasing in his voice.

The situation was still dangerous, but you couldn't help but enjoy the banter between the two of you.

"We can't stay here like sitting ducks." You replied, keeping your eyes focused on the door.

You were determined to fight back, and you knew that you had the skills to do it. However, you couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed that Boothill was doing your job, which was killing the other hunters.

"You think I can't handle myself?" You asked, a touch of irritation in your voice.

"Your eyes, darlin'. They look really tired." Boothill noted. He had never seen you look so exhausted before. He couldn't imagine how annoying and tiring it must have been to have a bunch of mercenary idiots after him.

You let out a small scoff at Boothill's remark. You really weren't in the mood to fight anymore, and he knew it. Even so, his teasing made you feel better about this whole situation—or so you thought.

"You know what? Just shut up."

You stayed hidden behind the table with Boothill by your side when another bullet hit the door. You cursed under your breath as you felt your clothes rubbing against the cuts. Your injuries were affecting you, and you were barely holding on.

You held back a small cry as a bullet grazed your hip.

Boothill turned to look at you. However, he kept his worries to himself.

"You're hit." He said, his tone firm but gentle. He reached out to check the wound, but you swatted his hand away.

"I'm fine." You grumbled, not wanting to admit how much pain you were in. You really weren't in the mood to fight anymore. However, no matter how tired you were, you were certain that you could win this fight, especially with Boothill by your side.

"Damn sons of bitches." You muttered, pulling a shot of adrenaline out of your jacket. At least that would help you compose yourself a little.

You could hear footsteps coming closer to where they were, so you quickly inserted the injection into your left leg.

A feeling of sudden power and energy ran through your veins as the drug took effect. You took a moment to take a deep breath, then stood up, ready to fight again.

Following that, you shot the two men inside directly in the head.

Boothill glanced at you with a mixture of surprise.

He wasn't exactly happy about you doing something dangerous like that, but he knew it was probably your only way to keep pushing through this fight. His gaze shifted back to the door, his hand still gripped tightly on his gun.

Since he wasn't going to kill you after all, he was going only to hurt you so he could hand you over and get the reward.

"You sure you won't pass out after that?" He asked, his tone serious.

You rolled your eyes, knowing that he was right. Just maybe. He really was annoying sometimes.

"Shut it and give me some cover." You demanded.

You were grateful that he understood that they were only on the same side for now, since the men were looking for both of you. And besides, the fight between you two was only about you two.

Without any other unwanted guests.

Boothill chuckled at your sharp tone. He really loved the way you spoke.

"Yes, love."

He was sure that you would be okay, even after the adrenaline shot.

"Just give me a sign if you're gonna pass out." He said, his voice low and serious, before firing his weapon again, hitting another man in the head. You both made a pretty good team.

You smirked, knowing that he was trying to help you in his own way. It had been a long time since you had fought together like this.

Bullets and bullets continued to fly through the room. However, Boothill managed to keep his aim on the enemies.

As usual, It was almost admirable how he managed to keep his focus, despite the chaotic situation.

You could feel Boothill's gaze on you, watching your every move, but you didn't mention anything. You wanted to keep going, especially when the only thing in your mind was to get rid of these intruders. You took out a long dagger from your belt and quickly stabbed a guy in the stomach, then knocked him down with your weapon. You really were a skilled fighter when you want to and need to.

By your side, Boothill was doing a great job too, taking down man after man.

It was a constant back and forth, the sound of gunfire and loud cursing echoing in the room.

As more people entered the building, it became increasingly clear that you had to get out of there. Or also go up to the upper floors, since it was emptier there and there was more freedom to move.

Boothill's gaze was still fixated on your back, his eyes never leaving you. He wasn't going to let anything happen to you, even if that meant putting himself in the line of fire.

Of course, it was only because I wanted you alive to turn you in and get the reward, nothing more.

You could feel the adrenaline pumping through your body. Your movements were swift and precise, your years of training kicking in.

You had to admit that you had missed this. The adrenaline, the excitement, the teamwork.

You kept going, cutting and shooting anyone who got in your way. You were both moving almost as if your actions were perfectly synchronized. You both knew where the other would be, and you were always there to back each other up, even if the fighting was chaotic and brutal.

Despite the exhaustion you were facing, both mentally and physically, you found yourself enjoying the adrenaline. The thrill was almost addictive, and you loved it.

Boothill kept fighting back to back with you. Despite his cockiness, the two of you worked impressively well together. He was always right on your tail, shooting down anyone who dared get too close. Your fighting style was completely different from his, yet it complemented his perfectly.

As the adrenaline continued to race through the room, Boothill couldn't help but notice how skilled you were. Even with the injuries you had, you were still a force to be reckoned with. He grinned, relishing the thrill of the fight and the way you worked together.

"Not bad, sweetheart."

You were grateful that Boothill's ego wasn't affecting his performance. For a moment, you stopped fighting to reload your gun. However, that little break was enough for you to pay attention to Boothill.

His smirk was a sign that not only was he enjoying this fight, but he was enjoying fighting with you. At least you two made a great team.

"What? You're saying that to everyone or is it an exception?" You replied, a small smug smile crossing your lips. You knew that he could sense your own excitement, even amidst this chaos.

Boothill chuckled at your words, a smirk spreading on his lips.

"You're the exception, doll."

His response was casual, but his eyes betrayed his words. You could see the admiration in them, the appreciation for your skills and the way you fought. He had see and fought beside many people before, but there was something about battling with you that felt different.

As more enemies started pouring in, Boothill stepped closer to you, his metalic arm brushing against your shoulder. His body language was casual, as if he were simply standing next to you at a party rather than in the middle of a life-threatening fight.

"You enjoying yourself so far?" He asked, his voice low and taunting.

"As much as you, pretty boy." You said, smiling as you wiped your sweat with the blood of the dead men with the back of your hand.

Boothill grinned, feeling a familiar flare of attraction burning in his chest. Fighting with you like this—side by side, watching each other's backs—was something he thoroughly enjoyed. And he couldn't deny that it made him feel good, not just because you two worked well together, but because it gave him a glimpse of what could have been if things had been different between the two of you.

However, he shrugged off the thought, reminding himself that you weren’t going to be with him. It was just wishful thinking.

"You're right, I'm enjoying myself."

Soon, the room was full of the bodies of the other hunters.

You and Boothill had ascended from the 5th floor to the 9th floor of the building while fighting.

You felt a sense of relief flood over you as the adrenaline high wore off. Your whole body seemed to relax, but your heart was still racing from the fight. You had never been more exhausted in your life.

However, in the midst of your slight distraction, one of the intruders had moved closer, and he grabbed you by the side. You gritted your teeth in pain and slammed your elbow backwards, hearing him groan as you struck him in the nose.

As you quickly pushed him to the ground, Boothill took the opportunity to land a shot on his chest.

Once the room fell silent, you let out a deep breath, realizing that the danger was finally coming to an end. Just for a few seconds.

All those fools were on the ground, all dead.

As you took cover behind the table again, you held back a small moan. The effects of those injections were beginning to wear off, causing a sudden pain in your hip.

Boothill couldn't help but glance over at you, noticing your discomfort. He approached you slowly, his gaze fixed on your wound.

You couldn't help but chuckle softly as Boothill approached you.

"Now, about our little problem?" You said, your eyes narrowing towards him.

Boothill leaned down to inspect the wound, trying to assess the severity. However, he saw that the shot had only grazed her hip. It was a small wound, but it still had to be painful for you.

He looked up at you with a small smirk, which only angered you.

"It's nothing I cannot handle." You huffed, your face twisted in annoyance. You didn't like it when Boothill looked at you like that, as if you were incapable of handling pain.

"I'm fine." You muttered, pushing his hand away from you.

You tried to ignore the throbbing pain, but you knew it needed attention. You nodded reluctantly, allowing him to look at your injury.

"You're wounded," he stated, his tone neutral. "Again."

From his pocket he took out a lighter, with which he heated his metal fingers for a while until they reached a high temperature so that the wound would heal.

Since he did not consider it fair that they continued the fight if you were not at your 100% or at least 70%.

"Hold still, darlin'. This might sting a bit."

Boothill held his heated finger over the wound, the heat causing you to gasp from the pain. You inhaled deeply through your clenched teeth, clenching your fists to avoid crying out in pain.

Despite the pain, you could feel the heat slowly knitting together your skin, closing the wound.

You closed your eyes as you felt Boothill's grip to steady you so that he could do his work.

The pain was intense, but somehow you found yourself calming down.

After the heat had done its job, Boothill let go of your wounded hip. You exhaled deeply, relieved that the pain was finally gone. Not completely, but most of it.

He looked down at you, his gaze taking in the expression on your face. You were still slightly irritated from the look he had given you earlier.

"You’re a terrible patient," Boothill commented, his tone laced with a hint of teasing.

"Hah. Shut up."

After a few seconds in which you calmed down, you got up slowly, still with caution.

Their previous "truce" had already ended.

You knew it was dangerous to be around him now. So you put your hand on your gun, ready to pull it out at any moment.

You walked away slowly, not cornering yourself.

"Now…stay away."

Boothill chuckled as your words faded into the silence. It was almost amusing how you still couldn't see eye to eye. Yet, there was an undercurrent of respect in his eyes.

"As you wish," he muttered, his tone neutral. He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender, though there was a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

You took a deep breath and moved closer to the exit, your hand wrapped tightly around the handle of your gun.

"We'd save the fight if you give up and let me take you with me." He grinned, his voice low and menacing as he leaned closer to you.

You were about to leave when Boothill's words stopped you in your tracks. You looked at him with a frown, refusing to take the bait.

"We both know I won't do that," you said firmly and in a amusing way, keeping your distance.

There was no way you were going to give up and let him turn you in just like that. You were both trained mercenaries, after all, and there was something in you that didn't want to lose to him, even if it meant risking your life.

Despite your attempts to hide it, you couldn't help but feel excited.

You knew that Boothill was a smart man, a cunning mercenary who never underestimated his prey. And he knew you were just as determined as he was.

His lips curved into a smirk, displaying his sharp teeth. He was clearly enjoying this game of cat and mouse, the thrill of the chase and the anticipation of the fight.

He was slowly approaching, you pulled out your gun, pointing it at him.

“I said not to—” You felt dizzy, unable to finish your sentence.

You fell directly to the ground, with no strength to move. It was the result of tiredness and the lack of adrenaline in your body.

'Shit,' you thought as you looked at your gun now on the ground, as well as listening to Boothill's footsteps.

It didn't take long for you to end up closing your eyes, passing out.

He crouched down next to you to check that you weren't dead.

But thankfully, he could see the slight rise of your chest, your breathing was slow and somewhat light. For a moment, he was terrified that you didn’t have one.

He felt a mixture of concern and victory, as he realized this was his chance to turn you in. He bent down, picking up your gun and then picking you up too.

He couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment, knowing that the fight had ended too soon.

He started to go down the stairs, with you in his arms, although he had you carrying you more like a sack of potatoes. A nice gesture from him.

Despite your body being limp and unresponsive, you could sense the movement and the sound of Boothill's footsteps. You couldn't open your eyes, so all you could do was think.

Your thoughts were a mess of anger and frustration. You hadn't anticipated that you would lose the fight this time. It was humiliating, and you couldn't believe that you had allowed yourself to get into this position.

You also cursed Boothill for being so quick and taking this chance. You were furious at yourself for not seeing it coming.

You wished that you could wake up right then and there. And that's what you did, you were forcing yourself to wake up.

You should have stayed in that building as long as you could.

Approximately 10 minutes passed, Boothill calmly descended the stairs.

In one of your attempts to wake up, you finally succeeded, although not completely since you were somewhat sleepy.

You remained still, as if you were still passed out.

Until, in one of those, with a metal bar that you managed to pick up days ago, you pushed it directly into the back of Boothill's metal legs.

In a way that he stumbles and in that way, letting go.

You fell to the ground again, your vision was still somewhat blurry but your instincts to escape were a little stronger.

You got up and started running down the stairs, going up again. Taking advantage of Boothill to remove the metal bar from his leg.

Boothill groaned as he felt the metal bar hit his legs and make him stumble. He wasn't expecting that sneaky move from you, even in your dazed state.

As he tried to regain his balance, he couldn't help but curse under his breath. Being immediately censored by his internal system.

How had he underestimated you that much? He had been careless and careless enough to let you slip away. He should have known better than to assume you were still unconscious.

His anger mixed with a sense of respect and admiration for your determination. He was both annoyed and impressed, both at you for escaping and at himself for letting you go.

You could hear him cursing behind you, which made the situation quite amusing. It was a bit of revenge for Boothill's actions.

With your blurred vision and half your body still not functioning properly, it was a challenge to run. Not to mention that your legs and arms felt like jelly.

You felt like you could faint at any moment, but anger kept you going. You pushed yourself to keep moving, though your movements were still somewhat slow.

You found solace in a room that led to a broken balcony.

You took a breath and took out your gun, which you picked up from one of the dead men on the ground, leaning against the wall and waiting for Boothill to arrive.

You were determined to end this once and for all, no more playing with each other.

You were going to kill him right then and there, but deep down, you hoped it wouldn't be necessary to do that.

Boothill gritted his teeth as he made his way up the stairs, his senses heightened as he anticipated your next move. He knew he had underestimated you and that you were clever enough to not make the same mistake twice. However, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of engaging in another fight.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he surveyed the room, his eyes quickly settling on you in the corner. He took a few moments to observe your stance, noticing the determination in your features and the gun pointed directly at him.

“Now this is an interesting change of pace,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

He knew he had to be careful with his movements, as any sudden action could result in a bullet in his brain. He took a slow step towards you.

"Are you sure you wanna do this, darlin'?" he asked, a hint of humor in his tone, "You seem a little out of it."

You responded, but not speaking, you shot trying to hit his forehead. However, he narrowly dodged the bullets.

By the time I wanted to shoot again, no bullet came out.

"Damn." You muttered, throwing the gun to the ground.

As he dodged your shots, Boothill chuckled, finding your determination admirable despite the fact that you ran out of bullets.

"Now, now, darlin'," he said, taking a step closer to you. "Just because you're out of bullets doesn't mean this is over."

His voice was laced with a mix of taunting and admiration as he continued to approach you, fully aware that you had no other means of defense.

"C'mere." He said, taking out his gun and pointing it at you, just in case you did something.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, annoyed at how he seemed to be enjoying this situation.

You took a deep breath, mentally steeling yourself for whatever might happen.

You weren't sure what you'd do next, but you knew you couldn't let him get away with this.

You took a step closer to him, your fists clenching and unclenching as you prepared yourself.

You raised your hands in surrender, as you approached him.

You knew you wouldn't last long in a physical fight against Boothill. He had experience, training, and an inhuman advantage given his abilities.

As you raised your hands in surrender, Boothill's eyes flickered with a hint of surprise, not expecting you to give in so easily.

He approached you with calculated steps, his gun still pointed at you. His gaze studied your movements and your expression, searching for any signs of deception.

"Smart choice," he said.

However, as he got closer, he noticed the fatigue and exhaustion in your eyes. He could see that despite your determination, you were not in the best shape to continue the fight.

He knew he had the upper hand, but he also saw a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes.

For your part, you were sure that you would regret this some time later. If everything went well, of course.

Being in front of him, just two steps away, you relaxed your face. Your pretty face and the old bond that both of you had before would have to be of some use.

Boothill noticed as you relaxed your face and softened your expression. He recognized the tactic immediately, as the tension in his jaw softened slightly.

He lowered his gun slightly, taking in the sight of you. The light that entered the room through the window illuminated your face, and for a moment, Boothill forgot about the current situation.

Bad decision he made.

"Can I…have a little time before you take me?" You asked, your face was one of resignation and some pity.

Boothill lowered his guard a little as he heard your request.

He could see the exhaustion in your eyes and the pleading look on your face.

He knew that he would easily fall into those sweet puppy eyes and that angelic voice.

He remained silent for a few seconds, still holding his gun, but more relaxed as he nodded.

"Just this time, but no funny business," he replied, a mix of caution and understanding in his voice.

You smiled internally, if that was possible.

Quickly and without him being able to react, you placed your hands on his face.

The only human part of his body he had left. You lightly caressed his cheeks, analyzing his eyes.

"It's been a long time since I looked into those pretty eyes again…" You spoke calmly.

Boothill froze when he felt your hands on his cheeks.

The feeling of your touch sent a series of electrical impulses and sensations through his artificial nerves, causing an involuntary shiver to run down his spine.

He was surprised at your bold move and the sudden display of affection. He couldn't hide the mix of confusion and a touch of discomfort in his expression, but he couldn't turn away from the warmth of your touch.

The sudden intimacy caught him off guard, and before he could react, he saw the vulnerability in your eyes and the hint of longing in your gaze.

"What are you…" he sputtered, taken aback by the unexpected gesture. He still kept his guard down, unsure of your intentions, but he didn't pull back.

Instead, he remained there, allowing you to touch his face.

You smiled softly, feeling like you had taken control of the situation.

"Oh, don't be like that…" You whispered, your thumb gently tracing the contours of his human skin.

"I just…" You paused, trying to find the right words. "I just missed seeing your pretty face."

You continued to explore his face with an almost careful touch, tracing the contours of his features with your fingertips. He noticed how your touch was gentle, almost reverential.

As if you were handling a work of art that could easily break.

"Tell me, Boothill," you spoke with an even tone. Your fingers moved slowly along his jaw and chin. He could feel the warmth of your touch and the way your touch tingled his skin. He noticed how your thumb brushed over his lips, tracing his lower lip.

He couldn't deny the fact that he had missed the feeling of your hands on his skin, even though he would never admit it out loud.

He could sense the nostalgia in your touch, and it was as if your touch awakened old memories buried deep within his circuits.

A feeling he had long forgotten.

"What are you planning, darlin'?" he managed to mutter, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and fascination.

You sighed lightly, before getting closer to his face.

"Can i…?" Your face was very close to his, a few centimeters away from touching his lips with yours.

He wanted to turn away, but he found himself powerless against the pull between you.

"Sweetheart…" he began, but his voice trailed off. He couldn't find the strength to push you away.

Or didn't want to, really.

But before he could say more, you had already pressed your lips against his.

Not exactly with much force, they barely brushed against each other.

And that was enough for you to quickly take away the weapon he had in his hand with a light blow.

You walked away from him quickly as a smile appeared on your lips, you must have been quick since he had a gun integrated into his hand.

As the realization dawned on him, Boothill's expression shifted from surprise to annoyance. He couldn't believe he had fallen for your little trick.

"Sneaky, aren't ya?" he said, his tone a mix of irritation.

Despite the temporary triumph, Boothill couldn't suppress a flicker of respect for your cunning and resourcefulness. He couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and frustration at your ability to catch him off guard.

He knew you would try something, he thought you were just going to try to convince him not to hand you over, making those pretty eyes of yours. He really hadn't expected there to be that kind of intimacy involved.

You couldn't help but laugh when you saw his annoyed expression, you knew he wouldn't take it well.

You couldn't believe it had worked, you assumed he would have pushed you away, but not this time.

"You should be flattered, you're the only 'guy' I can do that to without being disgusted." You said in a sarcastic tone, your smile widening.

Boothill scoffed, his irritation growing even more. He felt a mixture of amusement and indignation at your words and your teasing smile.

"Flattered? Oh, how lucky I am," he retorted sarcastically. "I'm honored to be your exception. I feel privileged."

He tried to maintain a calm facade, but the hint of a grin betrayed his true feelings.

You were just as annoying as always.

And after the small conversation. You tried to be quick and back away enough to go to the floors below, through the balcony.

Because if you stayed there any longer, one of his bullets was going to hit you.

As you made your escape, Boothill cursed under his breath, realizing how effortlessly you had outsmarted him again.

"Smart little thing." he muttered, a begrudging respect in his tone. He couldn't help but acknowledge your quick thinking and resourcefulness.

Despite a hint of admiration, he couldn't shake the feeling that your actions only fueled the fire between you both.

From there, you couldn't estimate how long you were dodging and hiding from Boothill, occasionally shooting.

You knew it was night, because of the windows and balconies you passed, you still had to stay in the building.

The smell of gunpowder was strong. You were taking care of the few bullets you had, using the gun as limited as you could, just to protect yourself.

You didn't risk fighting him physically since you knew you would lose easily.

The tension was palpable in the air as your chase continued. You constantly managed to evade his shots, thanks to your resourcefulness and quick thinking.

You made full use of the environment, ducking and hiding behind cover whenever possible, and your marksmanship kept Boothill at bay. Despite your limited ammunition, you remained cautious and calculated with each shot, making every bullet count.

However, despite his physical advantage, he couldn't shake the lingering memory of your touch and the bittersweet taste lingering on his lips.

As he sprinted behind you, he muttered under his breath.

"You're playing a dangerous game, darlin'…"

As the night deepened, a sense of urgency fueled your every move, and Boothill's determination never wavered.

Every step you took, every corner you turned, brought you closer to exhaustion.

Boothill followed your path, his mind focused on his target. He navigated the building with purpose and determination.

With each step, he grew increasingly frustrated by your continued evasion. You were making him work harder than he anticipated.

"You can't run forever, sweetheart," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with equal parts amusement and annoyance.

He was determined to catch you before sunrise, not knowing what would happen afterwards.

You took out your phone for a moment. You were behind a closet, so for a moment Boothill wouldn't be able to find you easily, or at least you hoped.

"Why the hell don't they respond?" You mumbled in annoyance, while looking at your phone.

No calls or messages were reaching your phone. The connection seemed unreliable, perhaps due to the location of the building or other interference. Whatever the reason, it added to your growing frustration.

As you stood there behind the closet, hidden from sight you took the moment of calmness to gather your thoughts.

You couldn't help but feel disgusted and a little humiliated at having to hide. It wasn't like you.

But you had no choice if you wanted to live or remain 'free'.

If it weren't for the fact that you had to stay in this building, you would already be far from this place. Maybe having a few drinks.

At that very moment, Boothill closed in on your location. His keen senses and intimate knowledge of your tactics allowed him to narrow down your position.

He approached the closet cautiously, his footsteps deliberately soft to avoid tipping you off. He stood on the other side of the door, mentally preparing for the moment of confrontation.

You made the big mistake of distracting yourself, getting internally upset by the situation and the lack of response on your phone.

As you stood behind the closet, your mind racing with frustration, you failed to notice the faint creak of a floorboard behind you.

Before you could react, Boothill appeared behind you, his presence like a shadow materializing out of thin air.

He pulled your leg back, thus preventing you from grabbing the weapon you had taken from him.

"Fuck!" You whirled around, your heart skipping a beat, only to find yourself facing him, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Hey darlin'," he teased, his voice laced with a hint of triumph, "I won."

He had you pinned to the ground. You were on your back and he had his hands on your wrists, along with his knees on your legs.

A mix of shock and anger filled you as you found yourself pinned to the ground by Boothill.

You struggled to break free from his grip, but his strength and body weight pinned you down, leaving you feeling helpless and exposed.

"Let go of me, prick!" You growled through clenched teeth, squirming and trying to wriggle out of his grip.

But your efforts were met with a chuckle from Boothill as he tightened his hold on your wrists,

"Now, now, easy there, sweetheart. You lost. That means you're in my hands now."

You glared up at him, your body tensed with defiance. Despite your best efforts to break free, his grip remained firm and unyielding. The power imbalance was evident, leaving you in a vulnerable position.

"You won, big deal," you muttered through gritted teeth, trying to hide the mix of frustration and fear that threatened to surface. Boothill smirked, enjoying the sight of your helplessness.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a softer yet slightly mocking tone, "Ah, but you do look rather cute like this, darlin'."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his words.

"You're playing dirty." You spoke, your brow furrowing a little. You had already stopped trying to get away because you knew it was useless at that moment.

"Oh, me? Playing dirty?" He shifted his weight slightly, pressing his knee more firmly against your thigh.

He continued, his tone laced with a hint of teasing, "if I recall, there was a rather intimate moment not long ago that involved your pretty face and my lips.”

"That was different," you muttered defiantly. "You were stunned. I merely took advantage."

Boothill laughed softly, clearly amused by your attempt to justify your actions.

"Ah, so you admit to playing dirty, eh?" His grip relaxed slightly.

"Mhm, maybe." You said as you let out a sigh.

Boothill leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive whisper.

"Let's say I am feeling a bit generous tonight." He paused, taking a moment to admire your features. "And the sight of you under me isn't half bad too."

He shifted his position slightly, his body pressing against yours with a bit more weight. The intensity of the moment seemed to thicken the air around you.

"Woah, relax." You spoke, raising an eyebrow with some amusement.

"Oh and, could you let me go?" You made reference to your wrists. "It's not like I could run away or anything." You continued, laughing somewhat bitterly.

Boothill maintained his grip on your wrists for a few seconds before finally releasing his hold, allowing you some freedom of movement. However, he kept you pinned to the ground with the weight of his body.

He remained silent for a moment, his mind working quickly as a slightly cocky, playful smile crept across his face, just like the cat who caught the mouse.

"There you go, darlin'," he said, his tone holding a subtle edge of mocking.

You moved a little on the ground, rubbing your wrists where his grip had left marks.

You internally lamented your immersive defeat.

Things didn't go as well as you planned.

"Okay, you can hand me over." You spoke, rolling your eyes. You weren't even going to try to escape, there was no chance of that.

A flicker of something you couldn't quite identify flashed across Boothill's eyes.

He stayed put, still holding you in place, his mind processing your words. He shifted his weight slightly, his gaze studying your facial expressions and demeanor, reading the subtle body language.

He thought, pondering your words and trying to gauge your sincerity.

"Just like that?" he asked, skepticism creeping into his voice. "No more fight, darlin'?

Boothill raised an eyebrow, amused by your surrender.

"Now, that's the first time I've heard you agree to surrender." He chuckled, taking a moment to appreciate the spectacle of you being the one to submit.

He leaned in closer.

"You're quite the sight to behold when you're not fighting back, you know that?"

With a swift motion, he gently grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger, gently lifting your face to meet his gaze once again.

"Take a picture, those last longer." You spoke, smirking at the way he was looking at you and talking.

Boothill paused momentarily, his smile growing wider at your challenging comment.

"Oh, don't tempt me, darlin'," he replied, his tone dripping with amusement. "But now that you mention it…"

He pulled out his phone, swiftly unlocking it. He hovered over the camera mode, teasing you with the possibility of capturing the moment.

"Maybe I should take a picture of you, just like this." He teased, the camera open and pointed at you.

His thumb lightly caressed your lower lip, a tender touch that contrasted with his cocky attitude.

As he stood there, phone in hand, Boothill's expression turned from playful to focused. He carefully analyzed your demeanour.

His gaze then softened slightly as he leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours. His touch sending a shiver down your spine.

You couldn't help but feel a hint of vulnerability as he looked at you.

You rolled your eyes, trying to disguise the shiver that ran down your spine as his thumb gently traced your lower lip, though you failed miserably.

You tried not to react, but his touch was strangely and unusually arousing, given the current situation.

As the moment lingered, his thumb still gently brushed over your lower lip, you felt a strange mix of sensations - a combination of a warm feeling and annoyance.

"Go ahead and take it," you replied finally, your tone slightly sarcastic. "It's not like I can stop you."

You leaned in slightly. The atmosphere grew thick with unspoken desires.

Boothill paused for a moment, his gaze flickering to your lips before returning to your eyes.

With your sarcastic reply granting permission to take the picture, Boothill wasted no time in capturing the moment with his phone.

He snapped a shot of your defiant yet slightly flustered expression, the phone's camera preserving the unexpected and somewhat amusing moment.

He glanced down at the screen to view the picture, a cocky smile stretching across his lips.

"Oh my, aren't ya a sight for sore eyes," he teased, his tone laced with a hint of amusement.

As he spoke, his thumb continued to gently trace over your lip, almost affectionately.

Boothill's eyes met your gaze, their gazes locked while he slowly leaned closer.

He hovered for a few seconds.

"You look beautiful, darlin' you really do."

His other hand moved to cup your cheek, he wished he could have felt the warmth of your skin on his fingers.

He closed his eyes and brought his head closer to yours. The tension in the room thickened as the distance between your lips grew shorter.

Without a second thought, Boothill leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a heated kiss that expressed all the passion and tension that had been building between you.

You felt a rush of warmth and desire flood your senses. The last time they were this intimate was how long ago… maybe 8 years ago? You don't keep track of that much.

The kiss intensified. His tongue gently licked the edge of your lower lip, seeking permission to deepen it further.

Your body responded instinctively, parting your lips and granting him access. The taste of him was like nectar to your senses.

The world around you seemed to disappear as the kiss deepened, filled with a rush of emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

Your focus entirely on the sensation of his tongue exploring your mouth. Your body responded shamelessly, your hands moving up to caress his head, fingers gently tangling in his hair.

Boothill's hand shifted from your cheek to cup the back of your head, his grip firm yet gentle.

He pulled you closer, the heat between you growing more intensely.

You knew in the back of your mind that it was wrong.

And yet, it felt so right. You couldn't help but submit yourself to the overwhelming desire that consumed you both.

The world beyond the walls of this room faded into insignificance. Your whole world condensed into the warmth and sensation of his body pressed against yours.

Finally, the need for air forced you to pull away, breaking the kiss as you gasped for breath.

You both remained in that position for a few lingering moments, your foreheads resting against each other. The cold air hit your wet lips, causing a small shiver of sensation. The kiss had left your mind and senses in a hazy, pleasant fog.

The sound of your heartbeats echoed loudly in your ears, as if they were trying to convey the depth of your feelings in that moment.

The realisation of what had just happened sank into your brain. The complexity of emotions flooding your mind was overwhelming. Mixed feelings of contentment, excitement, and… love overwhelmed your body.

It took all your self-control to not immediately kiss him again.

The silence in the room was deafening. Boothill spoke first in a low voice, trying to lighten the mood with a teasing tone.

"You taste sweeter than I remember."

His voice brought you back to reality, his usual teasing and cocky demeanour returning. You tried to respond to his teasing comment, but your mind was still reeling from the intensity and the overwhelming mix of emotions.

Without thinking, you replied, "Shut your mouth, Boothill."

A small smirk formed on your lips as you realised how natural the banter between the two of you was.

You pulled away from his grip, rolling your body away from his. You were still on the ground, but you kept a bit of distance between each other. You brought a hand to your lips, tracing over them softly as you looked away.

You were stuck in your thoughts, you were scolding yourself for letting your emotions control your body.

Until, a click echoed in your brain. Despite the sweet and intimate moment you knew Boothill wouldn't change his mind. Yes or yes he would turn you in and claim the reward. At least without killing you, but he would still turn you in.

Instantly, you looked over, just in time to see Boothill looking at you. But what took your breath away was the sight of something you hadn't noticed before. His hand hovered over the shiny metal of his holstered gun, his fingers casually toying with the smooth surface.

You didn't really notice when he picked up the gun you took from him.

"You forgot something, darlin', didn't ya?"

He slowly placed his hand over the grip, drawing the gun from his holster with a casual grace that masked a sense of danger. His gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes gleaming with a mix of cockiness and a hint of something more complex you would never admit to yourself.

You knew I wouldn't kill you, I was just going to knock you out. You wouldn't allow that anyway.

But you couldn't escape at that moment.

He managed to mumble something you barely managed to hear. ‘Sorry, sweetcheeks.’

A rush of adrenaline shot through your veins as you realised his intent. Your heartbeat intensified, pounding in your ears as you braced yourself for what was about to happen.

Your body acted of its own accord, quickly pulling out a small knife you had stored in your leg.

You couldn't even make a plan. You panicked at the thought of killing him, but there was nothing you could do. It was your life or his.

You instinctively raised your hand to defend yourself as the fear took over. You were going straight for his throat. His gaze met yours, and his expression shifted.

He narrowly managed to move aside, only cutting a little of the skin on his neck, superficially.

What you did manage to cut, however, was his nice long hair.

He also acted on instinct, as he saw you moving in the direction of cutting his neck, he ended up using the gun he had attached to his arm, as he had the other gun in his other arm. Shooting you directly in the right leg. It went through it instantly.

Your eyes widened, and a sharp scream escaped your lips as the pain coursed through your body. The shock of the injury made the room spin, and you felt a sense of dread as you realised the severity of the wound.

The adrenaline and the pain temporarily numbed your ability to think clearly.

Instinctively, you dropped your knife and reached down to your wounded leg, clutching at the wound in an attempt to stem the blood flow. The fear and pain overwhelmed your senses, your breath quickening and your heart pounded loudly.

You gritted your teeth against the pain, struggling to gather your senses.

Meanwhile, Boothill stood there, his eyes widened in shock as he heard the sound of the ringing gunshot. The teasing smirk replaced by a mix of surprise and a touch of guilt. He glanced at the gun in his hand, as if it had betrayed him.

The realization of what he had done hit him like a ton of bricks, and the expression on his face reflected his inner turmoil as he watched your pain.

The silence in the room was deafening, both of you frozen in disbelief. The atmosphere was heavy with the lingering smoke and the weight of the situation.

"I'm sorry, darlin' I was just reacting" he mumbled in a low voice, his tone tinged with disbelief and self-reproach.

He stood up, as he ran his metal hand over his face.

He tried to pull himself together, thinking about what he was initially supposed to do, to hand you over to those who were looking for you.

He turned his gaze back to you, you were with your head fixed on the ground, or rather on the wound you were holding with both hands.

You definitely wouldn't die for that, but it felt strange to see you like that. In passing he also saw much of his hair on the ground, which was cut by you.

He frowned a little at that sight as he turned away for a while, taking out his phone for a while.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "It was just-"

As he turned back to you, his expression was a mixture of guilt, and something else you couldn't quite identify, changed completely.

He could not believe his eyes.

You were no longer clutching your wound. Now you were standing near the broken balcony. Leaning on your left leg.

While your right leg that was wounded, now showed, thanks to you cutting off that part of your trousers, that your leg was no longer flesh and blood. It was also made of metal.

And the blood that was supposedly coming out of the wound, was from your hands, which in an oversight of his, you managed to cut off a little bit to make it look totally real.

Boothill's eyes widened in disbelief and a mix of shock and confusion, the phone in his hand almost slipping out.

His mind struggled to process the sudden turn of events, the revelation leaving him frozen in place.

He stood there, his eyes fixed on your leg, the same one that had wounded moments ago, now revealed to be metallic.

You're not going to lie, it really hurt when he shot your leg. The nerves you had connected there hurt like never before, that's why your pain looked so real.

It was funny to see his face, full of surprise and confusion.

"Surprise, muddle fudger!" You said, while smiling.

Without giving him a chance to answer you, you stepped backwards over the balcony, falling to catch hold of some kind of rope. You mentally thanked a certain blonde boy and a certain white-haired girl for arriving at the best time.

As you flew away in a sort of helicopter, you couldn't help but notice Boothill, who was more than a little shocked and static in his place.

With your free hand, you blew a kiss into the air in his direction.

Oh, you really loved that man, along with his cute and funny reactions.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#honkai star rail #boothill #hsr x reader #hsr boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill x y/n #hsr #honkai x reader #honkai sr #hsr x you #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail boothill #boothill hsr

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anifever · 3 days

Text

Dating Darry Curtis HC’s ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Darrel “Darry” Curtis x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : What I think dating ‘Superman’ would include

A/N : I’ve been busy but school’s out now so hopefully I can work on requests 💔. Also ily Jake Gyllenhaal but they should’ve never remade Roadhouse..

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🕊️ ˚₊‧⁺˖

୨ I hate to say it (not really), but you’re like a married couple

୨ The gang calls you mom and dad as a joke

୨ You guys are so sitting on a porch with wind chimes and birds chirping in the bg and the warmth of the sun hitting your skin coded

୨ You’re so disgustingly in love and it makes everyone sick

୨ I feel like bcs of how he’s portrayed and the responsibilities/stress he takes on from the entire gang, it makes him seem way older than he is

୨ That’s also probably due to Patrick Swayze being 31 instead of 20 while filming and also being 15 years older than C Thomas Howell irl instead of the 6 year age gap their characters actually had…

୨ Anyways, you help him actually act more his age

୨ You convince him to go out more, etc

୨ Everyone’s happy to see him let loose once in a while

୨ Like you guys mess around when you bake/cook together by throwing flour at each other and giggling omg I’m vomiting

୨ You guys are sometimes (very rarely) even spotted at Buck’s together and Dallas has to do a double take

୨ You also bribe the boys to give you guys or just him in general some alone time LMAO

୨ You absolutely slow dance in the kitchen. Idc.

୨ He’s the type to call you “a real treat” when you dress up or do something nice for him

୨ Going shopping together and him walking around with his lil’ glasses reading the grocery list while you push the cart

୨ Sitting in his lap while he reads the newspaper ohahahwbrbrbnrne

୨ You guys definitely met early on; slow burn

୨ You were SO ‘So High School’ by Taylor Swift when you were a little bit younger

୨ Been in the works of writing a ff abt that..

୨ FINALLY officially asked you out senior year for prom and you’ve been together since, even though you guys were in love way before that

୨ You definitely have to get in between his and Pony’s fights a lot

୨ Soda comes to you for advice, no matter what it is- he thinks it’s refreshing to have someone new to talk to rather than constant arguing, yada yada

୨ Dallas either flirts with you to piss Darry off or he has a relationship with you like he did with Mrs. Curtis. No in between.

୨ The type of man to give you foot massages

୨ On the contrary, you also massage his shoulders

୨ Johnny probably had a tiny crush on you when you first met him years back, but it went away when you guys started dating

୨ Went away to an extent at least..

୨ Him standing between your legs while you’re sat on the sink shaving his face for him GODODODODID

୨ He says “honey, I’m home” unironically

୨ He’s able to pick you up pretty easily no matter your weight

୨ He does it a lot and it’s mainly to show off LMAO

୨ You guys play checkers together and genuinely enjoy it which doesn’t help your mom/dad allegations

୨ EXTREMELY good at calming you down whether it’s a panic attack, etc

୨ He might lose his temper a lot on his brothers, but he never does it with you

୨ If he ever does accidentally snap at you, he apologizes to no end

୨ He’s touching you whenever he can; a hand on your waist, around your shoulder, keeping you on his lap, a finger in your belt loop, etc

୨ Speaking of belt loops, you pulling him in by the loops or his belt buckle to kiss him⁉️⁉️⁉️ I’m losing it

୨ Whenever any sort of errand needs to be run, he either forces Pony/Soda to do it, or makes you come with him alone

୨ He buys you flowers whenever he has the extra money ☹️

୨ Has his moms wedding ring kept someplace safe to give to you one day

୨ On another note, she loved you so much before she passed

୨ She was also constantly teasing him about you two when you guys were younger

୨ If he’s exhausted from work and flops onto the couch with you, don’t expect to be getting up anytime soon

୨ Back to the ‘him going out more’ point- you guys go to rodeos together whenever he knows Pony is being watched by someone else

୨ Calming lil’ picnics together by a lake

୨ He unfortunately will have to cancel plans a good amount because of work-related stuff, but you completely understand

୨ He’s pretty stubborn about letting you help with money, but he gives in sometimes

୨ You leave him cute notes in the lunch that he takes to work <\\3

୨ He for sure keeps a hand on your thigh or knee while driving

୨ There’s no doubt in my mind you’d grow old together

୨ He’s thankful for you in so many ways and is glad you’re able to help his life feel normal again and like an actual 20 year-old

#darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis #darry curtis #darrel curtis x reader #darry curtis x you #darrel curtis x you #the outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders x you #the outsiders darry #darry curtis imagine #darrel curtis imagine #outsiders x reader #outsiders #curtis gang #patrick swayze #curtis gang x reader

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jacaerysgf · 20 hours

Text

Unsatisfied?

sum: requested by the lovelie; @aegonswife | You had thought your bedroom life with Jacaerys was great. But you overhear a conversation that makes you feel differently. With some help you decide you can make his wildest dreams come true.

w.c: 2k

c.w: sub!jace, choking kink, p in v, sub aegon agenda, miss kink?, porn with plot, not proofread

a.n: i had way too much fun with this 🤭🤭

masterlist

You clutch the book to your chest with a smile on your face. Thank the gods you had gone out when you did or you probably would have missed this. It was a book jacaerys had been talking about but he could not find it anywhere not even the extensive keep library did not contain it. After hearing him ramble about this book you decided you would set out in the morning as the sun rose and would spend all day looking for it if thats what it took.

It did take all day and you were exhausted but you couldn't help but be excited to see his reaction.

“Cmon jace just spit it out, i can stand to look at that pathetic look on your face.” aegon? jace never spends time with aegon. You are too curious to reveal yourself and lean against the wall. “It is humiliating.” “It cannot be anymore humiliating then when you wet your pants-” “Can you shut up!” Aemond? what was happening?

A long moment of silence befalls them before he lets out a loud sigh. “Whatever do you do when you feel unsatisfied with your marital… activities?” You feel faint and you clutch the book closely to your chest to try and keep yourself sane. “You are unsatisfied with your marriage?”

You are going to be sick.

“Of course not! that is a ridiculous thing to say. I love her very much.” You let out a sigh of relief. “Then what activities could you be referring to?”

“in bed.” you flush. For you, your bedroom life had always been more than pleasurable. You had not really ever considered he did not feel the same. “What her cunt too dry and loose?” “you are disgusting do not speak of her in a such a way.”

“then what is the issue?”

You await with eagerness and dread for his answer. You can barely even stand still.

“I have taken on the more, authoritative role in our bed, sure i enjoy myself very much but i,, i find myself wishing the roles were reversed.”

Aegon erupts in to a roar of laughter but you can barely hear it over the sounds of your rushing breath.

“You want her to dominate you in bed? jace if i knew we had so much in common i would not have teased you so much.” “You’re a pig.”

In your shock you drop the book in your hands and gasp, covering your mouth as the room goes silent. You rush to pick up the book as a chair scraps the on ground and run away. You swear you can hear a voice calling after you in the distance but you continue to run until you reach your room and shut the door, leaning against it and gasping for air.

You two begin to flat out ignore each other. You make sure to be ‘sleeping’ whenever he comes to bed, he always has to leave to do some ‘work’ whenever you happen to enter the same room as it. After about a week you get sick of this tip toeing around each other and decide to go to the one person you believe can help you.

“It is unusual you wish to speak to me. And invite me to tea non the less.” Aegon slides into the seat across from you and rests his head in his hands with a grin. “I need you help.”

“oh? and what could you need from little ol me?” You take a long drink from you cup, that is definitely tea and not wine, before you look at him with an eagerness in your eye. “If you were jacaerys what would you want me to do?” The devious grin on his face only grows at your words but he plays dumb and tilts his head, “Whatever do you mean?” “Do not play dumb with me.”

He leans closer to you, “Listen closely, he is probably a newbie to all this so i wont start you out with anything too adventurous.”

“First things first you’ll want to catch him off guard, none of that talking to each other nonsense. This will be much better than talking.”

Jacaerys head shoots up from his desk at the sound of his office door closing and the light metal chain shaking as you lock it.

“Wife. Good day.” He coughs into his fist as he begins it fiddle around with the stacks of papers on his desk. You say nothing and he simply stares at you with wide eyes as you make your way to him and around his desk to be standing at his side.

“y/n…?” He trails off, staring at you confused.

“He will question you assert your dominance immediately. Do not give in the opportunity to interject.”

You pull out his hair and sit yourself in his lap, he immediately grabs your hips and blinks at you. “Is something… wrong y/n?”

“Touching should be off limits. As well as him calling you by your name.” “Well what do you like your women to be called?” He pauses, looking away for a moment before he turns back to you, a light blush had fallen on his face, “He will not like what i like. Start out with something simple.”

You grab his hands and lift yourself up so you’re sitting on them and stare at him. “Its miss to you.” He lets a whine as he gulps at you, is this really what you’ve been missing out on? “If you're doing this because of what you heard please allow me to-” “Shut up.” You grab his neck, putting a little pressure. Not enough to even restrict that much air but it seems to please him as he throws his head back with a hum.

“Touch him merely but not his cock for now, if he liked you as much as he claims too simply your hands will be enough to rile him up.”

Your fingers unbutton his tunic slowly, using your free hand to rub at the skin that slowly begins to peak out. He lets out a couple shaky breaths as you open up his shirt and allow yourself to simply rub his burning hot skin.

“Do not rush, you’ll know when to move on to the next step, trust me.”

He begins to squirm beneath you as your hands trail down near his pants, sliding just the tips of your fingers just underneath his pants. A considerable amount of sweat has built up on his forehead as he shows you his puppy dog eyes. “Please.”

“Now you can finally touch him. Slowly, nothing too rough or tight. Tease him, you want him aching for you.”

you hands fully slide down his pants and slide your fingers gently down his cock, simply lightly grazing against him as he lets out a couple strained sounds. “miss.”

you fully grip onto his at his words and he jumps, letting out a soft moan, “miss what?” you bring your face close to his and let your lips gently brush against his. “miss please. Please touch me miss.”

“only reward him when you feel like he has done enough, this depends on person to person, you decide when you will give in.”

“beg me.”

you expect him to be a bit more reluctant about it. but he does not. “Please miss, ill do anything, miss please i need you miss, miss please ill be good.” you let out your own shaky breath at his words, you did not think you would be enjoying this as much as you are, but the aching feeling between your legs tells you all you need to know.

You stroke him slowly, and he presses his head against you, his mouth right next to your ear so you can let out every delicious moan he lets outs. He was never that vocal during your time together, he would always say he was more interested in hearing you. You cannot believe you had been robbed of this, hearing him whine and softly call out your name as he gets closer to his release.

“please, im almost there.”

“do not allow him to release just yet. Stop him, it will feel much better for him the more you deny him.”

At his words you take your hands away from him and merely watch as he whines and tries to pull his hands out, “no no no please.” you lightly knock his head, “shut up, i dont want you to so you won't.” he groans and pants against you as you wait for long enough for his orgasm to die down before you begin to touch him again. You repeat this cycle three more times to the point he had begun to cry, tears run down his face as you deny him once more.

“please miss, please ill do anything.”

“Now you can fuck him, go crazy, at this point you will not need any guidance, youll be so into it your heart will know each what to do.”

He whimpers as you stand his hands reaching out to grab you as he looks frantically with glossy eyes, “no no no m’ sorry please.”

He watches as you undress slowly, your eyes narrow as he tries to grab his own dick, “if you touch yourself i will not touch you for the rest of the month.” at this he quickly places his hands on his knees and grips them tightly as you stand before him naked.

You stares at you in amazement, no matter how many times he's seen you bare he seems to be just as stunned as he was the first time.

You approach and sit on his lap once more, he starts to whine as you begin to free him from his pants. “let me eat you.” you ignore him and pull down his pants letting his dick slap against his stomach. his hands try to grab yours weakly to stop you, “you haven't cum no no you can't, let me eat you please.” he slurs dreamily.

He has never once fucked you without making you cum on either his mouth or his fingers, usually both. Yet you slap his hands away and glare at him, lifting yourself up and alining yourself with him, “You’ll take what i give you don’t touch me.”

You don't even bother to listen to his reply as you slam down onto him and quickly begin to bounce up and down onto him. You quickly push your lips against his to swallow up his moans as his knuckles turn white as he grips against the chair.

“Jace.” “Miss oh fuck.” His lip dip to your neck and he begins to suck kiss lick bite at any of you exposed skin that he can leading you to throw your head back. “Touch me.”

He hands wrap around your waist as he presses his head against your chest, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and suckling at it.

“Im so close.” He mumbles around you and you shake your head, “Not yet.” He whimpers as he sucks on your tits harder, as he tried to contain himself.

He continues to beg you to allow him to cum but you continue to disregard his own words, seeking out your own release instead. He has to close his eyes tight as throw his head back, adams apple bobbing as he forces himself not to cum as he feels you release around him. “miss please.” You do not let up your pace despite your own release and he can barely contain himself anymore. “cum.”

At your words you feel him burst into you, his white webs lining your walls and he screams as he releases. You brush his hair away that had grown stuck onto his face and press a light kiss against his lips, “Did you like it?” He nods weakly, his eyes barely being able to stay open, “You are the best women in all the known world.” You smile and stroke his cheeks with your thumb, “and next time, just tell me, dont go ranting to aegon deal?” “deal.”

-- perm jace taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 days

Note

Mark grayson x male reader with the powers of john Constantine? Maybe Mark on a mission involving demons and after some trouble Cecil reluctantly decides to call the reader for help

Mark Grayson x Constantine Male Reader

Headcanons

Guess who’s been ignoring his exam prep and watching YouTube instead? This guy. Reader is also a little older than the other characters, but how much older you can choose for yourself.

Demons weren’t something completely out of the norm for the heroes of this world. Way too many so called villains would summon low grade demons and imps to wreak havoc. Very few were actually able to summon sentient and powerful beings.

Invincible had been sent in since theyd just thought it would be like every other weak magician who thought they could take over the world. That was until the demon that appeared was actually one of the well-known demons from the bible.

Other heroes were called in, like the newer guardians of the globe. But even they didn’t stand a chance against this demon, who was getting a little too close to civilization for the GDAs comfort.

As much as Cecil hates it, he knows he has to call you. You’ve never had any respect for the GDA, for the government, and had always insulted heroes to their face, calling them government bootlickers and the likes.

Cecil would have locked you away a while ago, if you weren’t so damn good at what you did. There was also the fact that he, and the magicians he had on hand, were pretty damn sure you could unleash hell itself on earth if you wanted, so they were cautious.

You also just happen to be kind of a dick, though mainly to Cecil. For some reason you’ve always gotten along well with Donald for a reason the GDA doesn’t understand. You just know he’s a great guy though, which is why you’ll treat him a little better.

So with great reluctance, since he knows youre gonna be rubbing this in his face and ribbing him, Cecil contacts you. He would most likely have to use some kind of spell or sigil, since there’s no way you’d share your number with this guy, or pick up if he called.

The guardians of the globe and Mark aren’t really sure what to expect when they hear Cecil sigh over their earpieces. He sounds more exhausted and agitated than any of them have ever made him, which says a lot.

Cecil barely gets to explain who you are before you swagger out of a portal in your trench coat and a to-go coffee cup in your hand with your preferred drink.

Immortal and Robot are probably the only ones who know who you are. Immortal cuz hes worked with you in the past, and Robot cuz he’s a creep that knows too much, and there’s no way he wouldn’t know about someone as powerful as you.

The heroes would already be over your shit, since you paid way too much for this drink to let it go to waste. So, you are gonna stand here, and you are gonna finish your drink, and then you are gonna help.

Mark must acknowledge that you are pretty hot, with your exhausted features and the tired but knowing look in your eyes. Its like you know exactly what you are looking at, and like you know exactly what to do.

The heroes get thrown around a bit more, just for your own humor and cuz you know they can take it. them yelling at you in frustration just makes you pick at your nails and sass them, telling them you came here out of the goodness of your heart, and you feel so attacked right now?

Its only when Mark crashes into the ground right beside you, and this cute traffic light yellow guy with cracked goggles and a bloody nose politely asks you to help that you decide, sure, why not. It’s also definitely because of the cute pout on his lips and the puppy eyes he’s giving you form the crater he’s in.

You give him what’s left of your too expensive drink, telling him some flirty comment about “watch and learn, invincible”. You make air quotes with your fingers when you use his hero name, since nobody is invincible, even viltrumites. You know this since you’ve stumbled across quite a lot of them in hell over the years.

His small blush is very cute though, which makes you decide to wrap this up real quick.

To none of Cecil’s surprise. You know this demon, and it owes you a pretty big favor. You don’t use your favor obviously, why would you do that? Theres better things to use a demons favor for. Instead, you just use a good chunk of spells, sigils, and other magic arts to cast them back to hell.

Cue some complaining from multiple members of the guardians of the globe. If you could do that from the very beginning, why did you keep watching them get thrown around like that?

As they complain and argue around you, you just swagger back to where Mark was sitting cutely and sipping on your drink. It shouldn’t shock you a guy like him likes whatever sweet monstrosity you bought. Fits his cute smile at least.

Immortal doesn’t even argue with you, knowing its like talking to a damn wall. Except the wall claps back, and will be petty enough not to help you next time.

It also doesn’t shock Cecil when you ask Mark out for lunch, since you’re a known flirt. You also may be a flirt, but you are damn loyal, so he can’t even say to Mark you’re a bad partner.

Marks eyes widen comically, sputtering around the drink he had been nursing when you just dropped that on him. His face goes bright red, since no one has ever actually asked him out, especially so boldly.

He fumbles for a bit, but he does end up stuttering out a yes. He doesn’t know you too well yet, and neither do you know him, but what could lunch together hurt? So he ends up clutching your number, and sigil, on a piece of paper in his hand, as you portal away again.

The place is still a damn mess from the demon’s rampage, but Mark feels extra weightless as he helps clean up, not even really paying attention to some of the others complaining about how you left without helping clean up.

#male reader #mark grayson #invincible #mark grayson imagine #mark grayson headcanon #mark grayson x male reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible comic #invincible show #invincible x male reader #invincible x reader #invincible headcanon #invincible imagine

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hungermakesmonsters · 3 days

Text

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Eight

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Mention of periods (don't worry, we're not doing Saltburn), smutty behaviour, use of toys. More sickening cuteness. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5k

A/N : It's not exactly a cliffhanger but I get the feeling people won't like where it ends... Oh also spoilers for Jane Eyre (but it's 170 years old so I'm assuming people know the twist?)

MASTER LIST

Chapter Eight

The gentle touch of his fingers on your cheek woke you and, for a few seconds, you weren’t sure where you were. Billy was crouched in front of you, smiling softly. Your eyes threatened to close again, feeling exhausted and like all of it was just a dream.

“Hey,” he muttered softly, his fingers still tenderly caressing your cheek. “Are you okay?”

Finally, you managed to wake yourself up enough to realise that you weren’t dreaming, and that you’d fallen asleep on the sofa beneath the yellow blanket Billy had bought for you.

“I’m fine, just tired,” you told him, slowly sitting up.

Billy remained crouched in front of you, tenderly cupping your cheek and looking almost concerned.

“Did you draw too much blood again?”

“No, it's not that. I did that hours ago. I'm just really tired.”

“Just tired?” He pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead, checking your temperature.

“And my head hurts a little.”

“When is, uh -” he hesitated, almost looking uncharacteristically embarrassed, “- when is your next period due?”

Your cheeks warmed with both the realisation and the fact that Billy had figured it out before you. That was why you felt so awful. “Soon, I think? I-I lost track of the days after I moved in,” you explained, “and I've never been very, uh… regular…”

Thankfully, Billy just nodded and sat himself beside you, an arm around you pulling you into his side.

“Do you need to go lay down?”

“No I - I want to spend time with you,” you told him, resting your head on his shoulder. “We didn't really get to finish talking last night…”

“Was there something else you wanted to say or ask?” Billy asked softly, shifting a little so you could get comfortable against him.

You stayed silent for a few moments, thinking over all of the things you wanted to ask, wondering what you had the right to ask. “What causes it? What makes you feel like everything is... too much? I’ve only ever seen a vampire lose control from hunger...”

“Sometimes it’s hunger,” he offered reluctantly, “other times it’s just... I don’t know. Even before I was turned, I was never any good at controlling my emotions. And, now, I feel like I’m constantly fighting myself. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m drowning. Everything about you; your scent, the taste of your blood, the way your heart races... it’s a lot to try and ignore.”

Although the words were spoken to you, about you, you knew better than to read too much into them. It was the constant proximity, he probably felt that way around any human after enough time. It wasn’t because he felt anything for you.

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he admitted, waiting for a beat before asking; “why did you apologise? I lost control but you apologised.”

“Because I -” you stopped yourself before the lie managed to leave your lips. It hadn’t been your fault, as difficult as it was for you to accept that fact, you knew it was true. “Because I’ve always been made to feel like it’s my fault when bad things happen to me. The night we met, you asked me what I was running from, and that’s part of it; I was raised to feel ashamed and believe I deserved everything bad that happened to me.”

You heard him inhale sharply before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He was silent a moment before speaking again.

“Who left you?” He asked softly. You lifted your head, frowning. “Last night when you asked why I was leaving you it just… you sounded hurt, like someone had left you before…”

“My sister,” you answered, “she left home when she was eighteen and my parents disowned her because of it. She said she'd come back for me, but she never did.”

“Why did she leave?”

“My parents wanted her to marry a guy she didn’t want to marry.”

“Is that why you left?” He asked and immediately seemed to regret it when your gaze dropped. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

A moment later, you snuggled back into his side and closed your eyes. “How long until you have to go to work?”

“I can stay another twenty minutes,” he told you softly, slipping his arm around you. He was silent for a few minutes, before letting out a slow exhale. “I’m not going to be able to see you for a few days, it’s not safe for me to be around you while you’re...”

He didn’t have to say it for you to understand and, as much as you wanted to argue with him, you knew it wouldn’t be fair to try and force the issue. Now that you had some idea of how he felt and how much of a struggle it was for him to be around you sometimes, you knew Billy needed space.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

You stayed that way for another twenty-five minutes until you gently reminded Billy that he was going to be late for work. He didn’t seem to want to leave you and it made your heart ache to think about why that might be. Though, rationally, you understood that it wasn’t you; he was just tired. You were finally starting to understand just how difficult and exhausting it was for him just to get through a day.

He gave you a soft kiss and told you that he’d see you again soon.

The next morning when you woke up cramping and feeling terrible, until you found that he’d left a gift basket in your kitchen, filled with things you might need over the coming days; painkillers, chocolates, a new smart-watch with a cycle tracking app, a heating-pad, various toiletries and a large teddy bear with a note pinned to his chest.

I thought you and Bill the Beagle might want some company.

Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.

Butterflies filled your stomach at the thoughtfulness of the gifts and, later that afternoon, when you left blood for him, you couldn’t resist leaving him a note of your own.

Thank you for your considerate gifts. William the Bear is a wonderful addition to my growing stuffie collection and the chocolates were lovely. Hope you have a good night at work.

xoxo

The next day you felt even worse but, again, you were pleasantly surprised when you managed to drag yourself to the kitchen to get breakfast and some coffee. There was another box of chocolates and another note waiting for you.

William is a terrible name for a bear. I didn’t expect you to get through the chocolates so quickly, remind me to stock up next month. I hope you’ve not been watching Black Sails without me.

Take care

And, of course - of course - you had to reply, leaving your note with his blood again.

I happen to like the name William. I think it suits him. He looks like a William. I hope you’re not trying to shame me for enjoying the chocolates, truffles and caramels are my weakness. Don’t worry, I’ve not been watching anything without you, I’ve been reading. You were right, Jane Eyre was a very apt choice.

xoxo

His notes became your reason to get up in the morning, though they were a bittersweet reminder of his noticeable absence in your life. It filled you with a strange yearning and an uncomfortable sadness to think about him out there on his own. But that was a silly thought. You didn’t know anything about his life outside of the penthouse, about his work or his friends, maybe he wasn’t even noticing your absence.

(Or maybe he felt it just as much as you did.)

Okay, I have to ask; what does a William look like? Of course I’d never shame you for enjoying the chocolates, but now you’ve told me your weakness I might have to use it to my advantage. I hope you’re enjoying Jane Eyre more than you enjoyed Dorian Gray.

I hope you’re not feeling too bad. I miss our talks.

Your heart stuttered as you read and reread those four little words; I miss our talks. He missed you. Maybe not quite in the same way that you were missing him but, still, it made you long for him even more.

Well, in my experience Williams tend to be cute and cuddly, even though they look a little dark and brooding at first glance. Oh no! Please don’t use my weakness for chocolate truffles against me!!! (The extra exclamation marks are so you read that in a sarcastic tone.) Yes, I think I like Jane Eyre more than Dorian Gray - Mr Rochester kind of reminds me of you.

I’m feeling a bit better today, I should be fine in a couple of days. I miss spending time with you too. I hope you’re not too lonely without me around.

xoxo

You doodled a little picture of the teddy bear he’d given you on the corner of the note but gave him a grumpy looking face and a tag that read ‘my name is William’.

There was a strange feeling of embarrassment when you left the note and you almost changed your mind about it halfway back to your room, and you spent the rest of the evening wondering if it was a little too much.

So, the next morning, you felt a little reluctant to go into the kitchen, and had to take a deep breath before reading his note.

Dark and brooding?? I think you might have to elaborate, but I’ll let you save that for when I see you next. I hope that there will come a point in the book where Mr Rochester doesn’t remind you of me quite so much (I don’t know where you’re up to and I don’t want to spoil it).

I’m glad you’re feeling better. The penthouse isn’t the same without you. It’s strange, you’ve only been here a couple of months yet and it already feels empty without you. I miss you.

P.S. Is the doodle supposed to be me or the stuffie?

It felt like your head was spinning as you read, reread, and read again.

He missed you.

Billy missed you.

You spent half the day writing and rewriting your note to him, in one attempt confessing your feelings, in another acting completely blaise about his confession. Nothing you came up with felt right but the thought of not replying seemed worse.

I see what you mean about Mr Rochester... though I don’t know if I can completely rule out the possibility of you having a strange woman tucked away somewhere in the penthouse. It would certainly explain where all of the chocolates have been going.

I miss you too. I know what you mean, I feel the same way, like I’ve been here longer. But I suppose that’s how things feel when you get close to someone. Hope to see you tomorrow.

xoxo

P.S. I’ll never tell. An artist never reveals her secrets.

There was no end to your relief the next morning when you woke up finally feeling better, knowing that you’d be able to see Billy again. Part of you expected not to find a note, but there it was, waiting for you on your kitchen table, just like the others had been.

I can think of a less mysterious explanation for the disappearance of your chocolates, little hummingbird.

I’m not used to missing people. I’m not used to being close to them either. Some days I feel like my whole life has turned upside down since I met you. I can’t wait to see you again.

P.S. I think it’s magicians that never reveal their secrets, not artists.

Again, he left you searching for deeper meaning in every word, your heart aching for a man who seemed so lonely and alone, a man who didn’t deserve that life at all.

After breakfast you showered and washed your hair, wanting to look your best when you saw him again.

Slowly but surely, over the course of the day, your nerves started to eat away at you; what were you going to say to him? Were you going to pretend that the notes hadn’t happened and that their contents was just idle talk to help the other feel less alone?

You couldn’t sit still as you waited, counting down the hours before sunset, perched on the edge of the sofa and watching his door. The moment it started to open, you were on your feet.

Before he had the chance to even realise that you were there, you’d cleared the distance between you, throwing your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. Billy let out a breath but, for the life of you, you couldn’t tell if it was a sigh of relief or simply because you were squeezing the air from his lungs.

“Hey,” he muttered, his arm slipping around you and holding you almost as tight as you were holding him.

A minute or two passed, neither of you moving or saying anything, until he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and your grip on him started to loosen. You didn’t pull away, but gave yourself enough space to look up at him, smiling shyly as your cheeks started to warm.

“Hi.”

“Hi, hummingbird.”

Neither of you seemed to know what to do or where you were supposed to go from there so, again, you both fell silent, still holding each other. Finally, you dared to reach for him, placing your hand on his cheek. His eyes closed and he leaned into your touch, and butterflies began to swarm in your stomach. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you lifted onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.

It was a soft, chaste kiss, nothing at all compared to some of the kisses that you’d shared, but you felt his lips pull into a smile against yours before his eyes finally opened again.

“I missed you,” he admitted in little more than a whisper.

His hand moved to rest on your neck and you found yourself glad of his cold touch after what seemed like so long without it.

“I missed you too,” you confessed, “I - I missed you more than I probably should have.”

If Billy understood what you were trying to tell him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just shook his head and smiled before kissing you again.

You sank against him letting him deepen the kiss and turn it into something else, something new. Normally when he kissed you it felt explosive and desperate, like he was laying claim to you, but this kiss was tender and filled with longing, like he was savouring being with you again. It stole the breath from your lungs.

“I missed you,” he muttered again.

“You already said that.”

“I know, I just -” his head shook, and he let out a huffed laugh, “- this has felt like one of the longest weeks of my life.”

“Have you been okay? Was it -” you hesitated, not sure you wanted to ask the question, “- was it easier without me around?”

Billy pulled back a little, frowning. “Why would it be easier?”

“The other night, you said you feel like you’re drowning when you’re with me,” you shrugged a little, letting your gaze drop for a moment.

Before the notes, you’d assumed that everyone made him feel that way, that it was just part of being a vampire for him. But, now, after his last note and after that kiss, part of you longed for him to admit that it was more, that it was you, that he felt something for you, that he cared.

“I was wrong,” he told you, waiting until you looked up again to continue, “I feel like I’m drowning without you.”

“Oh.” Whatever you’d expected, it hadn’t been that.

“It’s a lot. I know it’s a lot -”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, it’s not.”

“I wish I could’ve met you in another life. I wish it wasn’t like this.”

The words caused your chest to ache, understand what he was saying and why because you felt the same way; the situation was a mess and all either of you could do was make the best of it.

There was more you could say - more you wanted to say - but it didn’t feel like the right time, and it wasn’t fair for you to try and push anything when you had every intention of leaving him once you’d finished your year. So, instead, you pressed yourself against him and hugged him tight.

Once you’d managed to pull away from each other, you spent the next hour sitting with him on the sofa, talking while he drank, trading gentle touches and kisses until he needed to leave. You followed him to the elevator, not sure if he was keeping hold of your hand or if it was the other way around.

It took a couple of weeks for things to start to return to some sort of normal between you.

Karen noticed the first time she saw you, mentioning that you seemed distracted as you walked through Central Park together (thankfully with no sign of Madani in sight), but she didn’t bring it up until you were sitting together a week later, having lunch in a little coffee shop.

“Is everything alright with you and Billy?” She asked, deciding to just go for it.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you answered. And it was fine. You were happy. You just could stop thinking about what he’d said to you and how you wished that things could be just a little bit different so you could both be happy.

“I know Billy’s my friend and you don’t really know me all that well, but you can talk to me if something’s bothering you. Or if he’s done something to bother you.”

There was something in her voice, something knowing that you really didn’t like. But how could she know what was going on with you and Billy, when you didn’t even know yourself?

“Everything’s fine, honestly. It’s great, actually. We’ve been really getting on lately; we’ve been hanging out talking about books and I’ve been making him watch Black Sail on Netflix,” you told her.

Karen nodded, though it didn’t look like she believed you, but she let it drop, leaving you with the sneaking suspicion that she knew a little more about the way Billy was than she wanted to let on.

Your quiet evenings with Billy slowly started to become a little more physical again, though neither of you seemed in a rush to try and push for sex again. Instead, most evenings he’d end up with his head between your thighs, or you’d slip your hand into his pants while you made out. And, even though you found yourself longing for more, you didn’t want to push him. No, you wanted to take things slowly, wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t get overwhelmed again before you took that next step.

Time seemed to fly by and it wasn’t long before the whole penthouse was being turned upside down in anticipation of Billy’s big party; live music, caterers, decorators and, of course, more blood than you felt comfortable seeing in one place. The whole place was transformed over the course of three days and, when the night finally came, you felt almost sick with nerves.

Even Billy had a strange energy about him, checking and double checking every little thing, including a security team from his company whose presence he seemed reluctant to explain to you. You watched from the sofa as he led them around the apartment, explaining where he wanted them and which areas of the penthouse were off-limits. He introduced you to one of them, a human man called Curtis who would be spending the night near the door to your quarters if you needed any help during the night (and, again, Billy didn’t explain what that meant).

A couple of hours before the guests were due to arrive, you went to shower and draw blood before doing your hair and makeup, and getting changed into your dress and shoes. For a few minutes you found yourself staring at your reflection, hoping to find some of the confidence you’d had that night in the dressing room with Billy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, it only took a moment for his eyes to find you, his jaw threatening to drop as he took in the sight of you. His appearance had the same effect on you; his well tailored tux had you biting your lip.

“Wow, Russo, you really know how to pick them,” Curtis called across the penthouse, earning himself a withering look from Billy and causing your cheeks to heat.

Billy made his way towards you, not bothering to hide the way his eyes were taking in every inch of you. When he reached you, he placed a hand on your hip and kissed your cheek.

“I got you a present,” he told you, using his hand to start guiding you towards the library, pausing momentarily to tell Curtis and his team that they could go take a break before the party started.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as he led you into the library and towards the seldom used desk by the window. Waiting for you were three boxes, each beautifully wrapped in silver paper and tied with black ribbon. Without thought, you found yourself gripping Billy’s arm as your legs threatened to turn to jello beneath you.

He smiled softly, picking up the first box and handing it to you.

“Open it,” he instructed, managing to sound as excited as you felt about this whole exchange.

It felt wrong to destroy the immaculate wrapping, so you took your time, carefully untying the ribbon and peeling open the paper to get at the box. You removed the lid and there, in amongst black tissue paper was an ornate black and silver mask.

“It’s for the party tonight,” he told you when you looked at him for clarification, “we wear the masks until midnight and then take them off. It’s supposed to symbolise vampires being seen by society, but really it’s just an excuse to have fun while no one knows who you are.”

You laughed, head shaking. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.”

But he didn’t give you time to linger, gently taking the box and mask from your hand before offering you the next present, seeming to get more eager with each passing second. He was practically vibrating with excitement.

Your breath caught as you opened the second box. It was a beautiful choker style necklace with diamanté detailing - at least, you assumed that it was diamanté because you couldn’t even start to imagine how much it would have cost if they were real diamonds. For a few seconds you were lost for words.

“Here, let me,” he offered, pulling the necklace from the box before you even had the chance to answer him. Billy stepped behind you, gently draping it around your neck and fastening it for you.

Your fingers immediately reached up to touch it; it felt a little heavy around your neck and you’d never had a choker style necklace before, but the feel of it would be a constant reminder of Billy and you loved that.

“Thank you, Billy,” you finally managed, turning and wrapping your arms around him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“There’s one more.” He reached for the last present but seemed a little more reluctant to hand it to you.

And once you’d opened it, you understood why.

“Oh...” said somewhere between shock and confusion.

You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, especially not after the mask and the choker, but a new sex toy certainly wasn’t it. Your cheeks heated as you looked at the box, trying to make sense of it, the words discreet and remote play only confused you more.

“I want you to wear this for the party,” he told you, a hint of nervousness in his voice, “if you want to, I mean. If it’s too much, I get it. I just - I thought we could have some fun. And there’s going to be so many people, I guess I want to know you’ll spend the night thinking about me...”

Your cheeks continued to burn, part horrified by the notion, but a much larger part couldn’t help but find the idea interesting, arousing even. And, after everything that had happened between you, part of you was still longing for more.

“You want me to spend the night thinking about you?” You asked quietly.

“More than anything,” he answered in little more than a whisper, like he knew it was something he shouldn’t say.

It felt like your heart leapt into your throat for a few seconds and you struggled to swallow around it. All you could think about was that night a couple of weeks ago, how he told you it felt like he was drowning when he wasn’t with you, and you knew that you couldn’t say no to him. (You didn’t want to say no to him.)

“Okay,” you finally answered, “how do I...?”

“Let me,” he offered, perhaps a little too eagerly, taking the box from your hand, muttering something about how he’d cleaned it and charged it ready before wrapping it.

You bit your lip, watching as he pulled the purple silicone toy out of the box, knowing that he could hear your heart pounding. Then he kissed you, slipping his tongue between your lips and enjoying you for a few moments. When he pulled back he began to trace your lips with the tip of the toy before slipping it into your mouth, causing your cheeks to burn hotter.

You watched him suck his fingers, leaving them glistening with saliva before dropping to his knees and slipping them beneath your dress and into your panties. His free hand nudged your knee and you parted your trembling legs a little further while his fingers stirred between your folds, wetting you before slowly slipping into you.

You moaned softly as his fingers slowly started to pump inside you, twisting and bending, easily finding that special spot.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, feeling like your legs were going to give out. Another soft moan escaped you when he looked up at you, holding your gaze as his fingers filled you, over and over. You clenched around him as he licked his lips, knowing that he was imagining the taste of your arousal on his tongue.

“You can come whenever you need to,” he told you, smiling up at you like he was in awe of you.

“Billy...” you moaned, your voice muffled by the toy in your mouth, hating how close you were to falling apart.

Your walls clenched and tightened around his fingers again, but you were already so wet that you couldn’t hold onto him or make him slow. There was something about all of this that seemed so obscene, so dirty, and it just made you want it ever more. His fingers hit that sweet spot one more time and it was enough to push you over the edge. Your legs started to tremble and your thighs pressed together, trying to keep his fingers inside you.

And, all the while, Billy smiled up at you.

A needy whine slipped out when he pulled away his hand, but you soon fell silent when he took the toy from your mouth. Your eyes fixed on the bookshelf behind Billy as he inserted the toy, suddenly feeling embarrassed despite everything you’d just let him do. Once he was done, he straightened your panties and made sure your dress was perfect.

Shifting your weight between your legs, you tried to get used to the feeling of the toy while Billy stood up and took out his phone.

“Let’s give it a little test,” he said with an almost mischievous grin on his lips that caused you thighs to clench. Something told you he was going to enjoy this. A lot.

A sudden whimper was pulled from you as the toy started to vibrate.

Billy’s grin grew as his finger swiped on his phone, causing the vibrations to intensify. As good as it felt, a mixture of shame and concern threatened to ruin the moment.

“What?” Billy asked, stopping the vibrations the moment he noticed your discomfort. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” you answered shyly, a little embarrassed by just how much you wanted to, “It’s just... what if someone realises?”

He offered a soft smile, placing a hand on your cheek.

“They won’t,” he told you with confidence. “It’ll be too noisy for anyone to hear it, and you’ll be good; you won’t come until we’re alone together and I give you permission.”

His thumb tenderly caressed your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you, his tongue slipping between your lips and wiping away any misgivings you might have had. You wanted to do this. You wanted to give Billy the comfort of knowing that you were thinking about him all night. And you wanted to do it for yourself too. You’d wanted to have new experiences and this was definitely new for you.

“Come on,” he said, slipping his hand into yours, “let’s go have a glass of wine and wait for the guests to arrive. It’s going to be a long night...”

End Note : So, originally, this chapter and the party were going all be one chapter, but then I got carried away with the cute notes between reader and Billy. That means next week will be a whole chapter of party shenanigans.

As always, thanks for reading/commenting/liking/reblogging, hope you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock

@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad

@vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17

@sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim

@countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl

@rosey1981 @benbarnesprettygurl @rachlovesactors @robertthehoover @ladyblacky

@goldenbeskar @mydarlingnana

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #billy russo imagine #(ob)ts ff

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turnersverse · 2 days

Text

and if you're thinking of me, i'm probably thinking of you.

you and alex wind down after an exhausting week of concerts

just purely fluff !

you watched from the side of the stage as the boys performed. you loved nothing more than seeing alex do what he loved, where he was himself. you would always remember how nervous he used to be before going on stage, and now you watched with a smile as he strolled around like he owned the place.

you could tell he was tired though, he wasn't prancing and dancing around as enthusiastically as he usually would. it had been a long tour, and you could tell the comments about his voice were bothering him. you had told him time and time again that he should sing at whatever pace he wanted, it was his show after all and the thousands of people watching had paid to be there.

they were doing their last song in the encore: r u mine. this always got the crowd excited, and you could see how crazy the mosh pits were from all the way back where you were.

the last few minutes went by quickly, and the next thing you knew the monkeys were waving goodbye to the crowd. you had a huge grin on your face as you waited for alex.

he beelined straight for you, pulling you into his arms and burying his face in your hair. your arms went to his neck and the two of you rocked side to side as you embraced.

"it was a good show. the crowd was very enthusiastic." you said quietly, your voice slightly muffled as your head was buried into his chest.

"mhm." alex said, pulling back from the hug. he gave you a soft smile. "i'm really tired, baby."

"i know, i can tell." you said, a small pout on your face as you held alexs face.

"can we go back to the hotel room?" he asked softly, his hands squeezing your waist.

"of course we can!" you said, smiling at your husband. "lets go tell the boys and then we can go."

alex just nodded, letting go of your waist so the two of you could walk but immediately grabbing on to your hand. you walked further back stage, going down the steps and winding round the corridors to the little room you had all been having a few drinks in prior to the show. the rest of the band were in there, music already playing loudly and drinks poured.

"we're heading off." you announced. matt nodded, looking from you to alex seeing that he wasn't in a celebratory mood. "alright mate, see you tomorrow." he said, mid pouring himself a beer into his glass.

alex pulled you away from the doorway and you followed the exit signs to leave the place. the air was cold and crisp, making you lean into alexs side more. he dropped your hand and snaked his arm around your waist as you walked.

the hotel was only a 5 minute walk away, and the two of you were walking fast to get into the warmth again. once you had reached the hotel, your walking pace slowed as you made your way through the lobby and to the elevator to your room.

alex pressed the button for floor 5 on the lift as you stepped in, and the doors closed. stood in a comfortable silence, you moved from being at alex's side, to infront of him, placing your hands against his chest. his hands latched on to your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

you stayed that way, looking into eachothers eyes as a way of silently communicating. the elevator dinged, alerting you that you had reached your floor. you stepped away from alex, his hands dropping from your waist but immediately picking up your hand as the two of you exited the lift.

it only took a small number of steps until they were in front of their hotel room. you fumbled in your bag to find the keycard, alex watching you with gentle eyes. a small, smug smile grew on your face as you sang softly, "i'm going back to 504.." you look up at alex, bursting out in a fit of giggles at his straight face. you had been making the same joke for the past two days, you had almost rejoiced when the lady at the reception informed you of your room on the fifth floor. you were only slightly disappointed to be in the room right across from 505, but you still sang that line anyways.

"haha, very funny." alex says in one of the driest tones you've ever heard. you just smile at him, kissing his cheek lovingly before pressing the keycard against the lock on the door and pushing it open.

you walked inside, leaning against the wall to take off your heels. alex shut the door behind him, slipping his shoes off a lot easier than you could. he moved over to you and you heard him let out a small laugh watching you struggle to even unbuckle the straps on your heels. you huff, and before you can say anything else, alex is already kneeling down in front of you and carefully unstrapping the heel you were struggling with, and then doing the same with the other. he gently pulls each heel off your foot one by one, and once they're off he stand up.

his arms immediately snake around your waist and pull you to him. you look up at him, tender love clear in his eyes. wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull his head down for your lips to meet.

the kiss is a slow one, a way of you both expressing your love. you break the kiss, your breathing a little heavier than previously. "i love you." you say softly, dropping down from your tiptoes than you hadn't even realised you were stood up on.

"i love you too, sweetheart." alex says, dropping a kiss on your forehead, the pet name making your heart melt.

"come on, let's go watch a movie or something." you say quietly. alex nods, letting go of you, and the two of you make your way to the bed. you clamber onto it, hearing alex laugh behind you as you crawl further up the bed. you turn around as you sit up against the headboard, alex still laughing softly and shaking his head.

you pat the bed next to you, a way of saying "come on". alex moves around the side and sits down, also sitting up against the headboard. you reach for the controller on your bedside table and turn the tv on.

you flick through netflix, which the hotel tv surprisingly had, not seeing anything that good. "what are you feeling?" you ask alex. he takes the controller from you, having a look for himself.

whilst your hands are free, you take the opportunity to move closer to alex. you shuffle down the bed a little, resting your head against alex's chest. he automatically lifts his arm and wraps it around your side, pulling you even closer.

he hums, and you feel the vibrations of his chest, "that's better." you look up at him, a small smile on your face but his gaze is on the tv.

you find yourself admiring him for a few moments, his perfectly straight nose, his soft brown eyes, the slight stubble peppering his chin and the wrinkles just starting to appear. "this looks good." his voice brings you back into focus, and you look at the tv. it was some sort of true crime documentary, and you nodded your head. he put it on, placing the remote on his bedside table.

you were watching the documentary for less than five minutes before alex shifted, pulling you even closer to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. you were now on your side, him lying on his back. you kept your eyes on the tv screen, a smile creeping up on your face. the hand that was resting around alex's waist was suddenly picked up. you felt alex's thumb caress the back of your hand, before he picked up your ring finger.

he hummed, before very quietly saying, "one day, there'll be a ring on this finger, baby. and then everyone will know you're mrs turner." he pressed a kiss into your hair, his other hand that was around your waist moving up and down.

you felt a blush creeping up on your cheeks, as you shifted to look up at alex. "i really hope so." you says, just as quietly, and you're met with a grin on alex's face. "i love you, al." you add, your heart warm.

"i love you." he says back, before mumbling into your hair. "more."

you giggle softly. "no you don't, there's no way you love me more than i love you. there's no way anyone can love anyone as much as i love you."

alex shakes his head. "no. although your heart is big, i don't own it all. the cat owns.. lets say... a fifth."

you laugh more, you did love your pet cat, but nowhere near as much as you loved alex. "yeah i love tiger, but not as much as you." you express your thoughts.

"yeah but tiger still owns a bit of your heart. you have my whole heart." alex says, his smile growing as you laugh.

shaking your head, you sigh. "okay fine. i still love you more though." you move your attention back to the tv.

alex doesn't say anything, but you feel him shake his head. his hand strokes through your hair, and you feel yourself growing tired after a while. you shut your eyes, not planning on falling asleep, but the next moment, you are.

alex looks down at you, smiling at your sleeping form. he kisses your head, his heart full of love for you. you had been together for almost ten years now, and the feeling never got old for alex. he hoped after the car tour finished you could settle down, get married and have children.

noticing you were still in your dress, he carefully and slowly moves you off him, not wanting to wake you. he climbs off the bed, unzipping your suitcase and pulling out your pajamas. he walks back to the bed, slowly removing your dress.

after about five minutes, he finally manages to get it off, with you still fast asleep. he pulls your t-shirt over your head, having to lift your upper body a little bit to do it. he then lifts your hips carefully to put your pajama trousers on. finally, he puts your fluffy socks on for you, knowing you can't sleep without them.

alex changed into his pajamas quickly too, before gently lifting you up, pulling the duvet cover down, and placing you on the bed. you curl up instantly, and he watches a small frown appear on your face. alex smiles softly, and gets into his side of the bed, pulling you to him straight away.

he kisses your forehead, whispering the words: "i love you the most, sweetheart." before closing his own eyes, a smile on his face.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

a/n: i'm sorry if this is a bit boring, but personally i love soft the car alex.

#alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #alex turner #alex turner fluff #alex turner fic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

Note

WIBTA if I asked for money instead of a car? (This one is low-stakes)

🚙💨

I have a car that I really, really love. A 2006 Ford Fusion. It's not a cool car, it's not fast and shiny, but it is my very first car and I love it. I've had my first taste of freedom in that car, I've cried in that car, brought my late cat to her final vet appointments... And it always starts right up for me.

However, it will need some work done in the upcoming year. New battery, new fuse balls, new timing belt... This will be close to 1000 euros within a year from now, and I already spent 600 last month just to keep it going. And that's on top of the running costs of heavyweight car tax, as well as the higher cost of the more high-quality gas my older car needs.

My parents are getting a new electric car and have offered their Hyundai i20 to me for free. (For free!) I'm incredibly grateful of course but I am finding it very hard to sell my own car.

Relevant: due to illness, my financial future is uncertain and the smaller Hyundai with better gas mileage and lower weight tax would be beneficial. It is also great to pocket the sales cost of my Ford. This is the reason my parents offered me their car.

My parents are financially secure, but they are not wealthy by any means and will probably have a hefty mortgage until they die.

I also used to complain about my Ford because the cabin filter didn't work and so driving around in it gave me migraines (inhaling highway car exhaust is bad for you). But I recently found that replacing the cabin filter is doable. Also, I can in fact use the cheaper gas in my car so maybe the mileage cost isn't THAT bad.

Tumblr, would I be a total asshole if I asked my parents for the money they got out of selling their Hyundai instead of the car itself? Like, hey thanks for offering me your car but I'd rather have the cash? I feel like it would be rude, but they are offering it to me for free anyway so financially it will make no difference to them, and I will get to keep my beloved Fusion.

#aita #am i the asshole

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mphoenix-7 · 2 days

Text

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 3: The Debrief

Book Summary: John "Soap" MacTavish has hated you since the very first day you arrived on base and joined their Task Force. You argue all the time, and one day, it pushes Captain Price to his absolute limit. He sends you both away to an isolated cabin in the woods for a week in hopes you can put aside your differences and bond. Will it work? Or will you two just end up hating each other even more?

This is a slow burn enemies to lovers fan fiction featuring Soap and you, the reader.

Word Count: 5,581

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Soap is mean, like really mean, smut later to come, rough smut, lots of swearing, violence, descriptive, blood, angst, fluff, slow burn, (more to come as I write)

A/N: Enjoy this one!

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Bitter Allies • Part 3

It was a relief when you finally pulled up to the rendezvous site. Medics were already on standby outside of the helo with a stretcher and supplies. Ghost, in his classic white skull mask, stood among them, watching as your transport rolled in.

Soap was the first one out, giving information to the medical team as they rushed up to take General Azamat away. You slipped out the other side, walking around the vehicle and straight to the waiting helicopter. The General's blood still stained your hands, and you wanted desperately to wash them. Before you can board though, you pass by Ghost, who stops you by grabbing your arm.

"You look like shit. He give you trouble?" Ghost asks, his voice gruff. Ghost wasn't a man of many words, but there always was an odd comfort in the way he spoke. Though to anyone outside of the military, he probably just seemed intimidating and rude.

"Doesn't he always?" You answer your lieutenant, glancing back over to your shoulder as you watched Soap help the medics lift General Azamat onto the stretcher. Ghost follows your gaze and lets go of your arm.

"Go get cleaned up. You did good today." His words gave you a little reassurance, but you aren't too accepting of them at the moment.

"Johnny would disagree." You grumble to Ghost before stepping up into the helo.

The entire mission seemed like a reck from the very beginning. Nothing seemed to go smoothly. Maybe it was just because you were working with Soap. Or maybe it was because you felt like you'd made too many mistakes, ones that Soap was more than happy to point out constantly. Then again, why should you care what he thought? Maybe things did go fairly well, and you just couldn't see that right now. All you knew was that you were exhausted, and your hands were dirty.

You only had access to wet wipes and rubbing alcohol until you got back to base but that was far better than just sitting with someone else's blood staining your hands. Pulling them from a small metal cabinet attached to the side of the helo, you sit down and get to work on scrubbing away at your hands. Slowly the white pristine cloths turn pink.

Shortly after you get to scrubbing your hands, the General is loaded up next to you. The medics are a mass of chaotic movement as they tend to him, and you find yourself getting up to move to a different spot.

Right as you find a calmer place to sit on the other side of the helicopter, there's a single muddy boot stepping into your line of sight. Looking up, you see Soap is trying to board, and you lock eyes with him for a long tense moment. Him mid-step up onto the helo, and you staying firmly planted where you'd sat down. Before anything can start, Ghost steps in.

"Problem?" He asks, breaking Soap out of his frozen state. Soap steps back down then so both of his feet are firmly planted on the ground.

"With her? Several." He mutters, eyes staying locked onto yours. You roll your eyes at him, clenching your jaw.

"That's enough, Soap." Ghost scolds, his voice firm. "You're going to have to wait for the next bird anyway. This one's full." He continues, which was the best news you'd heard all day. "See you on base, States." Ghost adds.

With that, Ghost gives two rough pats to the side of the metal helo, and the blades start to whirl faster. Before you can fully leave though, you can't help but make one more jab at your annoying field partner.

"Hope next time it doesn't hit the plate!" You shout over the loud sounds of the chopper taking off. You didn't really mean that, but exhaustion and stress were getting the better of you, and you were annoyed.

"Oh, thanks for the parting wish, States! You're a real charmer!!" He shouts back, trying to take a step closer, but Ghost puts an arm in front of him to keep him back.

You roll your eyes and slide the helo door shut. Through the little window, you watch as Soap and Ghost back further away from the helicopter. Ghost gives a thumbs up to the pilot, signaling they were all clear, and then it starts to lift off the ground. Peace until you land back on base and inevitably run into Soap again.

***

Ghost and Soap watch as the bird takes off, carrying their target and teammate away. The next transport would be arriving shortly to take the remaining men and women back. For now, they just needed to sit tight.

As soon as the loud sounds of the helo were fading into the distance, Soap lets out a long groan and rolls his neck and shoulders. Typically, Ghost preferred to stay away from their drama, but his brother-in-arms and close friend seemed a little more tense than usual.

"What was that all about?" He ventures, watching Soap cross his arms tightly across his chest.

"Ah, just fucking stateside bonnie boakin'," he mutters under his breath. "I swear she purposely acts like a brat just to piss me off. Well, she's doing a bloody good job at that, ain't she?" He continues on, letting out a stressed laugh as Ghost continues to listen silently. "Never thought I'd ever meet someone who just grates on my nerves as much as she does."

"I think she'd say the same about you." Ghost replies, getting more exasperated expressions from the Scot.

"Are you really siding with her?! I tell her fucking no, and she does the opposite, I tell her what to do, and she rolls her eyes at me like a fucking child! Whenever she's around, I can just feel my shoulders get tense, and I just had to do an entire mission like that with her!"

Ghost huffs as he listens to Soap. "You two just need to fuck and get it out of your system."

Soap nearly choked on his own spit at Ghost's remark. Ghost was pretty blunt at times, but this was a whole new level. He ran a hand over his face, his cheeks coloring slightly at the thought of even sleeping with States. He'd rather die than ever sleep with her.

"Go fuck yourself, Ghost." He retorted, thinking the man must have been joking. This was just one of Ghost's dry humored jokes. "If you really think sex is going to fix anything, you're as delusional as her." Annoyance was beginning to creep back into his tone.

Ghost rolls his eyes at the Sergeant, though doesn't let him see that. "You never heard of hate-fucking? Sex is a great way to let off steam. Releases tension. And you and States got so much damn tension." Ghost took that moment to light a cigarette then, putting his mask up just enough to light it and take a drag. "Gives me fucking headache," he continues, exhaling slowly. "Watching you two fight all the damn time."

"Well you're just full of great advice, aren't you then?" He rolls his eyes sarcastically, still a bit stunned at his lieutenant's words. "As thrilling as that sounds," Ghost raises a brow at him, making Soap's tone change to a more harsh one. "I prefer my sex not to come with a big ol'side of hostility. What, do you like her or something and want to live vicariously through me?"

Ghost lets out a laugh, which for him was just a light huff of air. Either way, it was very rare for Ghost to laugh at anything. "I'm not the relationship type, Johnny." He says simply, taking another short puff of his cigarette. "Besides," he exhales the smoke. "If she means nothing, then why are you getting all testy about it?"

"I'm not testy!" He retorts defensively, his tone somewhat contradictory to what he was trying to prove. He realizes this and takes a deep breath to calm down. "I just... I don't like her. That's all. There isn't anything deeper than that." There couldn't be anything deeper. He refused to even venture down that path. "Let's just drop it. I don't want to talk about her anymore, and I don't want to fuck her either. End of story."

Ghost had a slight smirk on his face. Whether or not Soap did have deeper feelings beyond hate for the 141 girl, it was just a little amusing to see him so worked up. He didn't really care too much if he was right or wrong. "Whatever you say, Johnny." He muses, finishing off his cigarette and flicking it to the ground to stomp it out.

In the distance, he could hear the spinning blades of the second helo. He hears Soap grumble at his response, clearly not happy that Ghost was acting like he didn't believe him.

As soon as the big metal bird landed, Soap was rushing to board it. Ghost doesn't push the subject of him and States any further though. It was fun to tease the Sergeant and get him worked up, but Ghost knew when to stop too. Still, that doesn't stop Ghost from smirking as he follows him to the helicopter.

***

By the time you arrive on base, you just want to collapse in your room and sleep. First you need to shower though. Blood, sweat, and dirt stuck to your skin, weighting down your tired body even more. You hope that the showers aren't full and that you'll be able to grab one rather quickly. You want to get in some sleep before the mission debrief.

The helicopter doors slide open, and you jump out, feet hitting the tarmac. A dull ache shoots up your legs, a familiar feeling post mission.

Up ahead, you can see Captain Price is waiting. He always touches base with each squad member upon their return from a mission if he's around. It's a rather sweet gesture.

He's standing with his arms behind his back, feet spread shoulder length apart, and spine straight as a board. The bucket hat he never goes anywhere without is atop his head, threatening to blow off due to the wind caused by the helicopter and of course a cigar between his lips. Despite the tiredness, you're happy to see him.

"States, glad you see you've returned to us in one piece." He teases. His eyes crinkle up at the sides, yet they still remain hardened from all the time he's served.

You give him a smile, allowing yourself to stop and enjoy his company. "I don't feel like I'm in one piece. This was a rough one." You admit easily. Despite only knowing him for six months, Price was a man you trusted deeply.

Price raises his brow at your response, looking a little surprised by your answer. "I heard the update from Ghost. Sounds like some unexpected challenges came up. Nothing I didn't think you couldn't handle."

"Just... beating myself up about it. I don't like deviating from the plan." It wasn't a lie, but not the whole truth either.

"Important lesson to be learned there, States. No matter how much you plan for something, never count on it being final. You will never be able to plan for everything. This life will always take you by surprise. You can either let it get you down, or you can run with it."

You can't help but smile at the old man. "Thanks Price. You and your old man wisdom. I'll file that one away."

Price chuckles softly, though you can tell he's trying to read you right now. He's very subtle about it, but you've learned how to detect it. His eyes give him away.

"I might be old, but I'm not blind. What else is buggin' you?"

Of course he'd notice. Nothing gets past the Captain. "What do you think?" You injury, watching as he shifts his weight and crosses his arms.

"Hmm..." He mocks like he needs to think about it. "Wouldn't be MacTavish would it?"

"Wow, that's insane. How'd you know?" You banter, watching as he rolled his eyes at your jesting.

"Lucky guess." He says simply.

"You put us together on a mission," you state, getting a nod from your Captain.

"I did." He confirms.

"Why?" You frown. Price knew you didn't get along. He knew nothing good came from you two being in the same room. Yet for some reason, he sent you out with him anyway.

Price sighs softly, looking away from you for a moment as if he needed to think out what he wanted to say. After a moment, he answers you.

"I don't think you realize the potential of just how good of a team you and Soap could be." He starts. You open your mouth to disagree, but Price holds up a hand to silence you before continuing.

"This mission required someone who can move quick and clean out a building fast. I've never seen someone able to clear out a building like Soap can. And he can do that regardless on if it's stealth or chaos. But when he doesn't know what to do, he slows down. You can think quick under pressure. No matter how stressful things get, you always deliver. You always know how to continue the mission. That combination of skill was perfect for this mission."

You look away from the Captain, not wanting to believe him, but the mission today proved how right Price was. It may have taken a life or death situation, but you and Soap worked together for the first time today, and it was rather incredible. Even you were shocked at how well and quick you moved together, even with a few hiccups. If you just didn't hate each other that combination could be practiced and refined even more.

"But he hates me, Price."

"I don't think he does." Price counters, but you don't believe him. Just like how he said Soap would warm up to you.

"He absolutely does."

"Well the mission was more than less a success. Seems like you've at least had a break through."

You laugh at that, though you can't blame Price for that assumption. You also thought so until Soap reverted back to being a dick.

"Respectfully, Captain, I think you're wrong. Nothing has changed. And I don't know if it ever will."

Before your conversation can continue, the sound of the second helicopter flying in draws your attention to the sky. Soap was on that helo. Unless you'd miraculously gotten your wish, and he'd fallen out on the way over.

Doubtful.

"That's my cue to head out, Cap. I'll see you at the debrief." You tell him, getting a nod from your Captain. You give his arm a pat as you pass by him, catching his parting words.

"You better be heading to the showers! You show up to debrief smelling like shit, and I'll have you cleaning bathrooms for a week!"

***

Soap is both relieved to be back on base as well as dreading it. Relieved because this is his home, a place where he is safe and can rest, and dreading it because the biggest thorn in his side was also here. Where, he wasn't sure, but she was here.

He was currently giving Ghost the silent treatment, childish as it may be. Though he hadn't really gotten the chance to ignore him either. Ghost was fairly silent on the trip back to base, though Soap should have known better than to think he'd be super talkative. Maybe the things Ghost said earlier was just a way to shut him up so he could enjoy a peaceful ride back, but Soap knew Ghost would never lie to him either.

Soap really just wanted to be alone for a bit. Take a nice hot shower to clear his head, maybe get something to eat. He still had the mission debrief he needed to go to later, and he knew he'd run into States there. So really all he needed to do was survive another few hours in her presence and then he can be free of her for a little bit.

As he jumps off the helo, he's already looking around for Price. If he wasn't off on a mission himself or too busy there was usually a 50/50 chance he'd be there post mission. And sure enough, it doesn't take Soap long to spot the Brit. Unfortunately, he really didn't feel up to talking. There was no way to avoid Price though. He stood right where Soap needed to go to leave.

He approaches his Captain, giving him a nod in greeting and hoping he could just slip by. "Captain." He mutters as he attempts to just walk past him.

"Got somewhere you need to be?" Price asks him, turning to look at Soap as he stops by the ramp that leads down to the ground.

"Just wanting to hit the showers." Soap grumbles, unable to keep his irritation from his voice.

Sensing the Sergeant was on edge, Price simply nods, allowing Soap to leave. "Just be on time for the mission debrief." He tells the solider. Soap gives a nod and is off. Price watches him leave, a frown pulling at his lips.

Ghost slowly makes his way over to Price, having watched the encounter between the Sergeant and the Captain. Price was still watching where Soap had just made his exit. "Was it really that bad?" He asks the Lieutenant.

Ghost's voice was steady, a hint of fatigue underlying his words. "It was pretty rough," he replied. "They're like oil and water. Fought the whole way. Thought they might've killed each other at one point—I guess States just got into some trouble. Not really sure."

He paused a moment before continuing. "When it got serious, they managed to get it done. First time I've ever really seen them do a half decent job together. It was still sloppy. States and Soap need to sort their shit out.”

Price lets out a long sigh. "Sucks that the only thing that makes them work together is when their life depends on it."

"I don't think today was a total failure for them." Ghost reassures Price. "At least we know when it matters they'll have each other's backs. They might just need more time."

"I've given them six months. I thought for sure Soap would come around by now."

"Just give them time, old man. Let things settle. I think Johnny'll come around yet."

***

The one thing you hated most about the base you currently resided on was that you were not given your own showers. Your room didn't even have a bathroom to get ready in. There was a communal bathroom in both the men's and women's barracks, equipped with toilets, sinks, and mirrors, but the shower house was a completely different building.

The men's and women's shower houses were separate but they were still right next to each other. The odd design choice could be explained by the fact that the base was older. Back in the day, they didn't have many females in the armed forces, so the shower house was only designed for one gender. When more and more women began to sign up, they simply just modified the current shower house instead of building a new one.

This design meant that the showers were always fairly crowded. And this was unfortunately the reality you faced as you approached the building. There was a line out the door for both the men's and women's section. Sighing, you had no choice but to join the back of the line. Not only were you desperate for a shower, but you also headed Price's warming that if you stank at the mission debrief, there'd be consequences. You really had no choice.

You'd only been waiting for about five minutes before the universe decided to bless you once again. Right as your line was beginning to move up, right as you thought you'd be able to make it into the shower house without running into your field mate, you hear his voice.

"Oh you are fucking with me." You hear him say as he realizes you were also in line. You turn to look towards Soap, watching as he stepped into the men's line, right alongside the women's. You scowl him, folding your arms across your chest as you look him over.

He was covered in a layer of dirt from the mission, and he stank. As you look at the items he was carrying, you can help but raise your brows in surprise.

"How the hell are you taking a shower with only body wash and a wash cloth?" You had a whole set of shampoo, conditioner, soap, face wash, body scrub, a razor, a loofa, deodorant, and a moisturizer. Given this wasn't your everyday routine. Just the one you did after missions to get the blood off you and help you destress. All he had though was a single tiny bottle of body wash. It wasn't even good body wash. It was the crappy stuff they issued to everyone in the military for free.

Soap looks over the shower bag you carried, rolling his eyes as he viewed all the products you had with you. "This is more than enough to get clean. You don't need all that fancy shite." He claims. "This is the military, not a five star hotel or a spa."

"Just cause we're in the military doesn't mean we can't have good hygiene." You grumble back.

"My hygiene is fine."

"Says the man about to only wash his armpits."

"I can wash my whole body with this."

"What about your hair? Just cause you don't have a lot of it doesn't mean you shouldn't wash that too. Oh God..." you realize it then, your face scrunching up. "Please don't tell me you wash your hair with fucking body wash."

"It's an all-in-one wash, princess. It's meant to be used for everything." Soap growls out, getting annoyed very fast.

"Don't you dare call me, princess, John." You knew he hated it when you called him by his first name. But if he was going to be calling you names, then two could play at that game. And boy did he hate that. His face got red as he glared at you.

"Why don't you just worry about your own damn self?! Like figuring out what you're going to tell Price at the mission debrief when it comes up you almost fucked up our cover! Worry about not getting kicked off the team. Or don't, cause I'd love to watch your bonnie little ass walk off this base!" He snaps, his raised voice getting the attention of the officer standing guard near the front of the line at the shower house's entrance.

"Hey! Break it up!" He yells at you both. "If you're going to cause problems then you don't get to shower!"

You and Soap both clench your jaws, glaring daggers at each other and throwing silent threats back and forth with your eyes. "See you at the debrief, States." Soap whispers lowly before turning his gaze forward.

"Get some damn shampoo." You whisper back, mirroring his action and also looking forward.

***

You can't say that taking a shower made you feel much better. You blamed that on Soap. Maybe the shower would have been a lot better had it not been for his awful company.

Now you found yourself standing outside of the debrief room. Normally you weren't too nervous about post mission debriefs, but this one felt different. Soap was in your head, and you worried you really had messed up.

Off in your own little world, staring at the door, you jump hearing a voice.

"You having a staring contest with that door? I hate it say it, but I think it's probably gonna win." It was Gaz. You're not sure how long he'd been standing there. His warm chocolate eyes met yours, and they go from amused to slightly concerned.

"You alright, States?" He asks softly, and you give him a smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just been a long day." You reassure him, finally grabbed the door handle and pushing it open, not giving him a chance to ask anything further.

"Just take it easy, yeah? We've all had tough missions." He smiles, giving your back a gentle pat before taking a seat.

Soap was already inside, chatting away with Ghost. They were sitting next to each other, while Price was standing in the front with Kate Laswell on a screen. Normally she joined you this way. It was rare she was ever in the area to be in-person.

Gaz takes a seat across from Ghost, leaving you to sit across from Soap. It was a rather large table, so there was a sizable distance between you. That doesn't keep Soap from eyeing you as you take a seat though.

"What?" You inquire defensively when he won't stop.

"Oh, nothing. Just want to make sure my poor hygiene isn't bothering your sensitive nose." He throws back, getting an elbow to the ribs from Ghost. A warning.

"Alright," Price says, making everyone in the room turn their focus to him. He was looking right at you and Soap. "Now that everyone is here, let's get started. Let's try to stay on task too, yeah?"

A mixture of "yes sir" or "aye sir" filled the room, and the debrief started.

It began as all debriefs did, with an overview of the mission objectives. Then discussion began on if each one was met. This part of the debrief had actually gone fairly smoothly. All main objectives had been met in one way or another. It wasn't until you got to the part where you'd needed to deviate from the plan that it started going south.

"So as we all know," Price began. "A Russian convoy began to approach the base within 0800. This resulted in our Bravo team having to stray from our original plan."

"Thanks to States, we got back on track quickly." Ghost fills in. "It was her idea to have Alpha team move in so her and Soap could infiltrate the West building."

Price nods towards you. "Good call on that, States. Your plan worked well."

That brings a smile to your face for a moment until you hear Soap huff a little and mutter, "give me a break," under his breath. You turn your gaze to him, jaw tight. He's sitting slouched in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and still looking towards.

"As solid a plan as it was though, it seems it took Bravo team a long time to reach the West building. Who's to say a back up plan would have been needed if this objective was met sooner." Laswell adds. "It looks like comms went silent for a while. Soap care to weight on what happened during that time?"

Soap was smiling, but he just shakes his head. "Nah, States can probably fill you in better since it was her doing." He says, making you glare harshly at him.

"Laswell asked-" Price starts, but is cut off by you.

"There was a group of four men, and I wanted to take them out so we could continue on the faster route to the building. Soap didn't want to be a team player and wouldn't help me." You start in, making Soap instantly glare at you for, what he believed to be, twisting the story.

"Don't you dare twist this like it was my fault!" He exclaims, before looking back to Price and continuing. "I said it was too risky and opted to go around. But she just had to prove a point and went in to take on four men all by herself!" He points a finger at you.

"It wasn't too risky! You just didn't want to do it cause it was my idea!"

"Who the fuck cares!? You don't do that and put your partner and the entire mission at risk!"

"It was fine! I took out three and you got the last one! Nothing bad happened!"

"Yeah, I took him out right as he was about to call for back up! It's a bloody good thing I got there in time! And just cause nothing bad happened doesn't mean-"

"Enough! Stop!" Price yells. "You were asked a bloody question, fucking answer it and stop addressing each other!" He growls before repeating Laswell's question. "Now, why didn't you make it to your objective in a timely manner?"

"Cause States got a big ego and took on four men herself, and we had to take time to clean up the mess." Soap answers, making you slam a fist to the table.

"That took thirty seconds at most! We were late cause Soap had to lecture me for five minutes about it!" You counter.

"Cause you almost bloody got us killed!" Soap shouts back.

"You're being so fucking dramatic, MacTavish!"

"ENOUGH!!" Price yells, slamming both fists to the table. "Bloody hell! This," he motions between you and Soap. "I've had enough of this! The bickering, the glaring, the dirty looks. I've had enough!" He berated you.

"You two are going to like each other, or at the very least tolerate each other. Pack your shit tonight. I'm sending you both away for team bonding. One week. You two, by yourselves, in the middle of fucking nowhere."

Soap's jaw clenched as Captain Price's words echoed around the debriefing room. His blue eyes narrowed at you before looking back to Price. He didn't want this anymore than you did.

"Sir, with all due respect..." he began, managing to keep his voice steady despite the absolute shitstorm brewing inside of him. But Price raised a hand, cutting him off.

"No, Soap. This is final. I don't want to hear another word."

Soap was furious A week. A week in the middle of nowhere with you. The thought alone was enough to make him want to throw something.

His fists clenched as he glared at the women across from him. This was your fault. All of it. He felt the anger rise up in him as he met your eyes and held your gaze.

"Hope you're fucking happy," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You growl at him, about to make a nasty retort, but Price stops you.

"No! No more fighting on this base. One of you opens your mouth again, and I'm making it two weeks." He threatens, making you swallow the words you had for Soap.

"Price..." You address carefully. "I don't see how-"

"Is that 2 weeks I'm hearing, States?" He raises his voice again, showing how serious he was. It makes you clamp your mouth shut.

"No sir." You answers shortly.

"Good. You two are dismissed. Pack. You're leaving at 0400 hours." When you and Soap didn't make a move to get up, Price reiterated. "Right now! Go!"

Nothing more was said. You and Soap both got up and went to the door. Even in the hallway as you both headed towards the barracks, Soap didn't say a word, and you weren't about to break the silence either. You could practically feel the anger radiating off him though.

A whole fucking week together. This was going to be hell.

You parted ways shortly after, Soap's pace a lot faster than yours. You did see him make the turn for his barracks though before you went to yours.

***

Soap entered his room and slammed the door, his hand scraped over his stubble, frustration gnawing at his insides. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his whirring mind. The thought of being stuck with you for an entire week was enough to make his blood boil.

"Calm down, MacTavish," he muttered to himself, his Scottish accent thick with irritation. "You've survived worse." He tries to tell himself, though a week with you seemed like hell to him.

He growls and kicks his dresser. This was all your fault. He'd been looking forward to his next mission without you, or maybe even a little time off. But no. He got to spend a week alone with you.

All he could hope was that you'd make it through the week without killing each other. Shaking his head, he starts to pack furiously.

This was going to be a long week...

***

When you got to your barracks, you leaned back against the door and buried your face in your hands. You tried to come to terms with the fact that you were about to spend a week with Soap MacTavish. Alone. In the middle of nowhere.

This was your nightmare.

You stayed where you were a good five minutes while you let yourself calm down. Your heart was hammering in your chest.

"A week could go by fast though, right? You didn't even need to speak to him during those seven days... you can do this..." You mutter to yourself, as if saying it out loud would somehow make it true.

Sighing softly, you start to pack, pulling out your military duffle bag from under your bed. Despite you trying to convince yourself otherwise, you knew deep down this was going to be a long week.

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goldenavenger02 · 2 days

Note

how about "trying to wake them up" with lloyd after he kinda died in march of the oni?

Just a thought tho you dont have to do it if you dont like the point

"I'm tired, Kai."

Kai knew that he wasn't just talking about the concussion-induced exhaustion; he was all too familiar with the weary feeling in his bones that had been lingering for years, the way it wormed under his skin at the first sign of pulling in one, peace-filled breath and begged him to sleep.

For @badthingshappenbingo. Prompt: trying to wake them up

Kai's hands trembled as he helped lift Lloyd's body out of the rubble; his all too still body, not making a single noise or movement even when they laid him onto the stone floor.

His mind repeated 'not again, not again' as he desperately looked for signs of life and came back empty-handed.

He hadn't been able to contain himself when he watched Cole fall, but as he found himself pleading with Lloyd to wake up, his heart felt still in his own chest.

'Come on, Lloyd…'

He backed away when Master Wu rushed over and wrapped his hand around Lloyd's wrist, hoping for an answer when Jay asked, "you can do something, right?" only for his entire mouth to dry out as he was met with a look of defeat despite their overarching victory.

"There is nothing to be done."

Kai's hand drifted to Master Wu's shoulder as his own breathing hitched; he couldn't bring himself to look at Lloyd's face, his mind would just insist on him shaking him and trying to prove to him that he was just asleep.

Until he heard a gasp that had him looking right at Lloyd's face, unable to stop his mind from saying 'come on, Lloyd.'

Then Lloyd pulled in deep breaths interspersed with coughs that sent Kai to his knees as he set one of his hands on Lloyd's leg, unable to stop his eyes from watering as he sent a 'thank you' into the sky with the hope that for the first time, The First Spinjitzu Master had listened to him.

…

"Hey. Can you move him?"

Kai looked up at Jay from the couch, the left half of his body occupied with being a cushion for Lloyd, "why?"

"The new episode of Twisted Hearts came out yesterday-"

"You have a tv in your room and I'm on concussion duty," he sat up straighter to get a better look at Jay in the dim light, "do you know how hard it is to move him when he's asleep?"

"Do you want your sister in my bedroom?"

Kai huffed, rubbed a hand over his face and pointed as he spoke, "you're a jerk, you know that?" He got a smug smile in return that had him gently resting a hand on Lloyd's shoulder, "greenie, time to go to your own bed."

He got a groan in response as he curled closer to him, forcing Kai to gently shake the shoulder his hand was on, "come on, you need Tylenol anyway. Up."

At least this time he got a defiant "no" as his eyes stayed firmly closed.

"Lloyd, as much as you enjoy using me as a pillow, you really need to sleep in your own bed, it's…" he paused, looking back up at Jay, "time?"

There was a pause as Jay pulled his phone out of his pocket before saying, "eleven thirty."

Kai thought it was nine, time hadn't passed right since he thought he felt his own heart stop in the court- 'don't think about it.'

"It is way past your bedtime, kid. Last chance before I let Jay take over." He warned, knowing that he wouldn't be pulled off the couch legs first with a concussion, but the threat was enough to finally get him blinking himself awake, green eyes squinted with the first few minutes of waking up.

"Fine, 'm up," he groaned, rubbing his eyes, "mean."

"Well, Jay and Nya want to watch their dumb TV show-"

"It's not dumb! If you actually watched Twisted Hearts, then you'd understand the complexity of-"

"And," Kai started, cutting off Jay's yelling which was probably for the best with how Lloyd had winced at the volume, "you're still on a screen ban which means you need to lay down in your own bed."

Lloyd blinked. Once, twice and then an exhausted sounding "okay" as he used the couch arm to shakingly pull himself to his feet.

Kai rested his hand on his shoulder to guide him to his bedroom, trying not to think about how Lloyd looked like he was about to fall over with every step 'not breathing, not moving, not respond- don't think about it.'

He guided Lloyd to his bed, waiting until he sat and pulled his legs up before turning away to grab the Tylenol bottle from the nightstand and shake out two of the white pills into his hand.

"Sit up for a sec," Kai pressed, waiting until Lloyd propped himself on his elbows to press the pills into his hand, "I'll be right back with some water, don't fall asleep."

"I'm tired, Kai."

Not rest, but sleep. There was a large difference in Kai's head; rest was productive, sleep was forever.

'Lloyd's all too still body, not making a single noise or movement even when they laid him onto the stone floor.'

"I know, Lloyd." he said, finally forcing himself to twist the doorknob and go to the kitchen in search of a glass of water.

As he held the cup under the flow in the sink, he tried his best to shake the weight from his shoulders; this wasn't the first time he forced himself to get past it by avoiding it, and he also knew that it wouldn't be the last.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #my writing #fic #angst #trying to wake them up #lloyd garmadon #kai ninjago #post march of the oni #near major character death #heavy angst #jay walker #minor religious trauma

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lau219 · 12 hours

Text

Enemies with Benefits

Part 12

Previous part here

…………………………………………………………………………….

“I want it installed right away. You’re looking at an extra thousand dollars if you get out here tomorrow.”

His phone to his ear, Tommy glanced across the room to Y/N, who was sitting on one of the barstools as a paramedic was looking her over. Along with her sprained ankle, she had numerous cuts on her hands and knees from crawling across the broken glass on the floor, and as she looked up and met Tommy’s eyes, he insisted once again on getting the new locks and security system installed at the club as soon as possible.

“Tomorrow, right. Call me as soon as the work’s done,” Tommy instructed to the locksmith he’d recruited back when he first began purchasing the clubs. He then ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket, and his attention was brought to the front of the large room as he looked up and saw Arthur, John, and Polly rushing in from the entrance, each of them with worried expressions on their faces.

“What the fuck happened?!” Arthur half-shouted as he and John made their way over to Tommy. “Fucking lock on the front door is completely busted off.”

“I’ve got someone coming to replace it tomorrow,” Tommy answered him, slightly annoyed. He wasn’t in the mood for Arthur’s antics, and he knew the last thing Y/N probably wanted right now was to have to interact with him and John, either. He’d only asked Polly to come, but of course, Arthur and John had insisted on tagging along as soon as they heard what had occurred.

“Oh, darling, are you alright?! Let me see you!”

Rushing past the men and over to where Y/N sat, Polly interrupted the paramedic’s work to grab Y/N’s hands and give her the once over before then wrapping her arms around her and hugging her tightly. Watching, Tommy almost laughed at the off-guard and surprised look on Y/N’s face as Polly pulled her into the hug.

Not expecting such concern and affection from the woman she’d only met twice before, Y/N didn’t know how to react as Polly hugged her warmly and then pulled back to examine her again. She was touched by her concern, but was still shaken from the entire situation, and she just stared blankly at Polly as she spoke again.

“Are you alright? My God! Did they already take that fucker away? Because if not, I’d like the chance to throw a punch myself.”

Y/N gave her a half smile.

“Sorry, you just missed him,” she said.

“Thank God you weren’t here all alone!” Polly said.

Y/N glanced over at Tommy again, recognizing Arthur and John from the first night she’d met all of them. She found it kind of odd that they were there, as well as Polly. While she couldn’t really relate, seeing as she wasn’t really close with any of her own family members, she still found it a little unusual that they all had come here upon hearing about what happened. But as eclectic of a group as they were, it was obvious they were very close.

“Arthur, John, will you two shut the hell up?!” Polly called annoyedly over to them. They’d been nearly shouting as they continued to talk to Tommy, and Y/N had winced as Arthur and John got particularly loud. Her head was throbbing, her ankle still hurt like hell, and she was still very shaken, trying to process the entire situation and all Tommy had done. She truly had no idea what would have happened if he hadn’t been there, and she currently felt cold and exposed. As she looked at Tommy again, she remembered how safe she’d felt when he’d wrapped his arms around her, and how relieved she’d been that he hadn’t gotten hurt.

“Alright, well, we should get going,” Polly said after the paramedic had finished their work on Y/N. “You must be exhausted. Where’s your purse, honey? I’ll grab it for you and put it in my car.”

Hobbling off the barstool, Y/N shook her head.

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” she said, “I don’t need a ride. It’s my left ankle that’s sprained, so I can still drive home.”

At that, Polly gave a short laugh, as if what Y/N had just said was absolutely ridiculous.

“You’re doing no such thing. You’re coming back to our place and we’ll look after you there.”

As she shook her head again, Y/N shifted her weight and stood up straighter, albeit with difficulty. She didn’t know exactly whose place she was referring to when Polly said “our place”, but regardless, she wasn’t going, even if she wasn’t crazy about the idea of being alone right now.

“No, that’s not necessary,” Y/N said. “I really, truly appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be silly, darling,” replied Polly. “Not to be harsh, but you’re a mess.”

“Which is exactly why I need to go home. If someone could just bring my car around to the front, then I can take it from there.”

Looking at her for just a moment and seeming resigned to Y/N’s decision, Polly then spoke.

“I’ll have Tommy go and get it,” she said.

After Polly walked away, Y/N eased herself back onto the bar stool and took a drink of water from the glass someone had set beside her on the bar top. After setting it down, she turned her head again and saw Tommy approaching her, his expression serious.

“Where’s your car?” he asked as he came to a stop in front of her.

“In the ramp down the block,” she replied. “It’s right on the first floor.”

Tommy nodded.

“I’ll come back and get it for you tomorrow,” he said. “Where are your keys?”

Y/N frowned.

“Wait, what? I need it now.”

Tommy shook his head.

“No, you don’t. You’re leaving with us.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” he insisted.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Tommy gave a look of irritation.

“You know how much I enjoy arguing with you, love, but this isn’t up for debate,” he said.

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Y/N responded.

“You can barely walk.”

“Barely, but still can.”

“Have you always been this difficult?” Tommy asked with a tilt of his head.

“I could ask you the same question.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Tommy spoke again.

“I’m not letting you go home alone,” he said as he held her eyes.

“I don’t need your permission,” Y/N said.

“No, but you do need to honor our agreement,” he answered.

Y/N furrowed her brow and shook her head.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

Tommy took a step closer to her.

“I’ve just decided this is date number two,” he said.

•.•.•.•.•

As Polly drove up the driveway of an extremely large mansion in the very posh neighborhood they’d just driven through, Y/N became even more confused as the two cars that had been following them the entire drive also pulled up and parked alongside them. As Polly got out of the driver’s seat, Y/N opened her door and saw Arthur and John each get out of their respective cars and chat briefly, before John began heading her way as Polly and Arthur headed towards the house.

“I’ll get your room ready, honey,” Polly said as she walked away, and as sweet as she was being, this all still felt so odd to Y/N. Never would she have expected to find herself in the home of a Shelby.

Approaching her, John grinned as he reached her and pulled her car door open all the way.

“Nice to see you again, Y/N, although, I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances,” he said. “You alright?”

“Umm...yeah, hi,” Y/N responded, and she wondered where Tommy was. But just as she had the thought, she recognized his car pulling up the driveway and parking near the others, and she hated to admit it, but she suddenly felt better upon seeing him. As Tommy got out of his car, John got her attention again as he extended his hand and gently gripped her forearm.

“Come on, up we go,” he said to her, and he pulled her out of her seat and then upright before wrapping his arm around her waist to support her as she hobbled onto the driveway.

It was still dark out, and as she once again looked up at the mansion in front of her, lights glowing from within, she suddenly had a hard time processing all that had happened in the last few hours.

Her arm resting on John’s shoulder, Y/N reluctantly accepted his support as she saw up ahead the amount of steps she’d have to climb to get inside the house. As they began to move, she saw Tommy making his way over to join them, her purse, jacket, and laptop in his hands. He met her eyes briefly and then followed behind them as they walked up the driveway and to the house.

“Watch your hands, mate, or I’ll be hitting you with a liquor bottle next,” Tommy suddenly said to John from behind them as he saw John’s hand resting dangerously close above Y/N’s ass.

Upon making it inside, Y/N found herself standing in the middle of a large foyer, and as Tommy walked past her and met Polly at the base of a set of stairs and handed her Y/N’s belongings, she briefly looked around.

The house was beautifully decorated and was clearly frequently occupied, but she was still having trouble figuring out exactly whose house this was. Based on the décor, she guessed it wasn’t any of the men’s, but they all clearly had the intention of staying the night. As Tommy headed back over towards her and relieved John of supporting Y/N, she spoke quietly as Tommy now slipped his arm around her.

“Whose house is this, exactly?” she asked him.

“Polly’s,” Tommy replied as he started walking her slowly across the floor.

“But you all are spending the night?”

“Sometimes we do, if things run late at the office or we’re already here for something else. Polly lives closer to downtown than the rest of us.”

Y/N made a face.

“You all are a little too close for comfort, if you ask me. Please tell me you truly have your own place and aren’t still living at home.”

At that, Tommy laughed.

“Believe me, love, I have my own place. Would you like me to take you back there, instead?”

“Nice try, Shelby,” she said to him, and Tommy laughed again.

As they made it over to the stairs, Polly reappeared at the top of them.

“Room’s all ready for you, honey.” Then she turned to Tommy. “Left hallway,” she said to him, and Tommy nodded.

“Thank you, Polly,” Y/N said as she looked down and began to maneuver herself as she leaned against Tommy. He tried to pick her up to carry her instead, but she refused and insisted on doing it herself. But after the third or fourth step, she could sense him growing impatient with how slow she was going, and suddenly, she felt his arm sweep under her knees and his other wrap around her back as he swiftly picked her up bridal style and then continued climbing the stairs.

“Ahh! What are you doing?!” Y/N shrieked as he grabbed her.

“Getting you up the stairs before my next birthday,” he replied as he continued to move.

“Hey!” she scolded Tommy, but her heart skipped a beat with a tiny thrill as she rested against him.

As soon as they reached the top of the stairs, she started to wriggle in his arms.

“You can put me down now,” she said, and Tommy lowered her to the floor, but if he’d had his own way, he would have kept carrying her to the room and then locked the door behind them as soon as they were inside.

“Come on,” he said to her as he resumed helping her walk, making it down the hallway and to the door of a softly lit guest room. He guided her inside and gingerly eased her down on the bed, and then he busied himself with arranging her belongings on the desk in the corner and then grabbing her some towels and a set of women’s pajamas from the armoire in the corner. He then walked back over to the bed and set them down before looking at her expectantly.

As she eyed the pajamas and then looked back up at Tommy, she narrowed her eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re waiting for, Shelby, but if you think I’m changing in front of you, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Tommy smiled.

“Can’t blame me for trying,” he said. But then he spoke more seriously again.

“Are you alright?” he asked her.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she responded quickly, but as she looked at him, she suddenly couldn’t hold his gaze for long, and she looked down again.

“You’re not alright,” he then said quietly.

“Yes, I am,” she insisted. “I’m just tired.”

But the truth was, now that she had a moment to think, she was still shaken from what had happened, and she felt bad for having called Tommy greedy and said he didn’t care about people. She sniffled and refused to look up at him.

“Hey,” Tommy said quietly, and he knelt down in front of her. When she finally looked at him, he spoke.

“You don’t always have to be so tough, you know.”

With that, Y/N’s tears began to flow again. God, what was wrong with her? As she closed her eyes and let out a sob, she felt Tommy get up and then sit down on the bed beside her, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she tried to breathe.

“Come on, love, you need to rest,” he said to her, and he gently pulled her with him as he moved on the bed to lean back against the headboard, Y/N laying against his chest as she rested against him. His arm still around her, Tommy stayed quiet as he let her cry.

She was too tired and too shaken, and it felt too good to be in his arms to fight it. She kept thinking how close of a call it had been when they’d been at the club, and she still couldn’t believe how well Tommy had handled the entire situation and how lucky she was that he’d been there. She didn’t know what would have happened if she’d been alone. She’d dealt with a robbery once before, a long time ago, but it had been a stupid kid with a pocketknife. Guns terrified her.

After a while, Y/N grew quiet, and Tommy wasn’t sure if she’d fallen asleep. But it felt too good to hold her like this for him to shift and check. Of course, he wasn’t happy at all about what had happened, but he was pleased with the fact that she was finally allowing herself to be a little vulnerable around him. Although he operated on defense at all times, he didn’t expect her to, and as he thought about how frightened Y/N had looked as she’d been on the floor of the bar, he was insanely relieved he’d been there.

“I’m sorry,” came Y/N’s voice suddenly, surprising Tommy.

“For what, love?” he said near her ear as he turned his head.

“For saying you were selfish and don’t care about people,” she said quietly.

“Eh,” he replied, slight amusement in his voice. “People have said much worse about me, believe me.”

“And I’m sorry for being completely useless back there,” she continued, shifting slightly against him.

“Useless?” Tommy repeated with confusion.

“I froze. I didn’t know what to do.”

Tommy shifted now, sitting up straighter and pushing her up with him so he could look her in the eyes.

“What are you talking about? You had a gun aimed at you, a sprained ankle, and a floor of broken glass to crawl across and you still managed to think clearly enough to get to your phone and call the police.” He shook his head as he looked at her. “I think that’s the opposite of useless.”

“You handled it all,” she replied to him as she sniffled.

“Hardly, love,” he said. Then he gave her a small smile. “You just managed to be clumsy enough to have to do your part from the floor.”

Y/N gave a reluctant little laugh of her own, and Tommy squeezed her hand.

“You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met, love, and if you need confirmation of that, just take a look around at everything you’ve taken upon yourself to get to where you want to be.”

Looking back at Tommy, she suddenly wished he’d kiss her right now, but when he adjusted again to move off the bed, her focus shifted.

“You should get some sleep,” he said to her as he stood up. “Don’t worry about anything with work right now. I’m keeping the place closed until everything’s been cleaned up and the locks are installed.”

“What about tomorrow? How am I supposed to get home?” Y/N asked him.

“Polly will take you after you’ve had a chance to regroup. There’s no rush.”

Y/N slowly nodded, and then she looked at Tommy again, holding his eyes for a moment.

“Thank you,” she said to him, more weight behind the statement than what was voiced, but Tommy could see that in her eyes.

“Any time, love,” he replied.

He then turned and began to walk out of the room, but Y/N’s voice stopped him before he left.

“Shelby?” she said, and Tommy turned around, his eyebrow raised.

“This still doesn’t mean we’re friends,” she said to him, a small smile spreading on her face.

“No, of course not,” Tommy said with feigned seriousness and a shake of his head. Then he gave her a wink and stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

@nyxxie-pooh @allie131313 @febris-amatoria @xsweetcatastrophe @fairytale07

@beastofburdenxo @betty21rose @hannibellector @runnning-outof-time @meister95

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@k1ng-l3on @ceirinen @peskybinders @fuseburner @neonpurplestars89-blog

@devotedlyshadowytheorist @shaddixlife

#modern tommy shelby #modern tommy shelby x reader #modern tommy #modern tommy fic #modern tommy shelby smut #modern peaky blinders #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy smut #cillian smut #18+ only

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bowlofr1ce · 3 days

Text

So I’ve been playing with the idea in my head that after the game events Siffrin doesn’t lose their “time powers” but rather they just got nerfed instead and it’s marinating in my head like a cement mixer

ACT 5 and ACT 6 spoilers below cut!!

Like I don’t recall anywhere in the game that they can’t go back in time anymore, just that they’re exhausted as time craft takes a lot of energy and now they lack that energy.

Siffrin was able to loop around in time because they Wished. The Universe granted them these powers. But that doesn’t really mean that it was taken away once the Wish was fulfilled right? I like to imagine that instead they were just. Nerfed! Debuffed. Not-As-Cool.

Like they won’t automatically go back in time when they die anymore. Because they’re dead! But if they were in a situation where they’d know they will die, or if they’re put under enough stress, their fight or flight response will kick in and that response is to loop back before they die!

They can’t go back DAYS in time but they can go back MINUTES in time. Any more than that will put a physical toll on their body. Even then, it takes a lot of energy to do it period! They’ll feel exhausted no matter how far they go back.

By the way forgot to mention they CAN’T go back consciously. If they knew how, they’d probably be in a much worse situation now.

Okay so there’s Siffrin yes but then there’s the subject of Odile. In act 5 she stopped Siffrin from looping back in time. Yeah yeah, maybe she just attacked to interrupt him but that’s boring /j

I personally like to think she went a little bit into learning SOME time craft after Loop told them that Siffrin is looping. Similar to how Mirabelle learned how to make a shield that reflects attacks after saying how hard it is throughout the entire game.

So Odile can’t go back or manipulate time itself at all, she is nowhere near powerful enough to do so. But she does know that it happened!!

Well technically, so does everyone in a 5 meter radius. If for any reason Siffrin would attempt to go back in time but can’t (ie they just did earlier that day or they don’t have enough strength to do so) whoever’s nearby would feel a small tug when it happens. Backed up during the ACT 5 sequence where Bonnie (was it Bonnie? frick…) commented on the feeling when Siffrin attempted to use time craft. But only when the attempt is successful! No one else but Odile is affected. She is just the only one who knows that it happened no matter where she is.

So now we have a really neat dynamic here!! Siffrin would somehow go back and Odile would know exactly when. I like this a lot and I am currently writing a thing about this. My brain is very happy right now. I love putting little guys into little situations

#in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #writing ideas #whether or not I’ll publish the thing I’m writing to ao3 depends on how I feel about it #I’ve actually never sat down and wrote a thing seriously before. I’ve only just now realized how bad I am at describing things #eh screw it. crash and burn. go for broke. we die like men.

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skygemspeaks · 14 hours

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what i find so fascinating about the mu qing and feng xin dynamic is that basically all the friction between them comes from the fact they both have polar opposite communication styles, and this leads to frequent miscommunications between them

Feng xin is the kind of person that always says exactly what he means, he doesn't have time for word games or reading between the lines and so it frustrates him when mu qing can't come right out and just say what he means

Meanwhile mu qing, having grown up in poverty and having been looked down upon all his life by the people around him (both at the royal holy temple and in the divine realm) has had to learn the hard way to constantly be picking apart what everyone around him says to find their true meaning. Xie lian himself has mentioned how mu qing places great emphasis on his reputation, so he's constantly working to avoid making a fool of himself, and this hyper vigilance leads him to reading meaning into feng xin's words when it isn't really there

I think that once it gets through to mu qing that he doesn't have to worry about hidden meanings when it comes to feng xin (and xie lian, but this post isn't about him) they'd probably get along a lot better.

After all, it's gotta be exhausting to be constantly on your guard with the people around you, to be constantly searching for contempt or disgust in every little turn of phrase or twitch of the lips.

Once mu qing learns to let his guard down around feng xin (and xie lian), he'll probably find that spending time with them becomes a lot more restful.

#that's when they'll fall in love btw #i just love them so much #i have so many feelings about xianle trio #tian guan ci fu #mu qing #feng xin #xie lian

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fanmoose12 · 2 days

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Hello Fanmoose 🤎

I just saw your post with the Fanfiction Tropes! I choose #42 the big damn kiss.

Generally, February is a pretty hectic month for Hange. It doesn’t by any means come even close to how January makes them feel - the first month of the year usually brings so much chaos that even they struggle to keep up with it all, and while, in that regard, February is a lot much calmer, the exhaustion from the stress accumulated during the month prior entirely drains Hange off all energy.

And, somehow, this year it feels even worse.

St. Valentine’s Day that Hange ordinarily adores, because there is little they love more than showing people that they love just how much they love them, this year seems more like a dreaded nightmare.

It’s Hange’s own fault, of course, and they’re very well aware of that - it was their decision to participate in the annual dance contest, and it was their own pettiness that drove them to make that very same decision. But logic matters not, when their pride is wounded, and they’re ready to do anything to win against their last year’s partner, and, subsequently, unfortunately, their ex, and they have to do it in the most over the top way possible too. They have to wipe that smug smirk off Zeke’s face, to humiliate and crush him - treat him the same way that he treated them.

Which is what they have been training and rehearsing for so relentlessly, spending more time in a dance class than they ever did. Which is why, most probably, Moblit suffered the way that he did.

And as Hange sees his face contort in pain and his ankle start to swell and turn angry red, their determination takes a form of what it truly is - a childish, pathetic and selfish act that ended with their friend getting hurt.

Their vigor nearly dies right there and then, but– still survives, unfortunately.

Hange is in too deep already, they must snatch victory out of Zeke and his new girlfriend Pieck’s hands, so after they help Moblit get back to his room, bring ice for his ankle and his favorite brand of chocolate for his fallen spirits, promising to buy him lunch for the entirety of the next week, they make themself cozy on his couch and begin to think about their next move.

They need to find a new partner, that much is obvious, but who can they even go to with such a request?

Their brother Mike is deemed unsuitable immediately, the contest, after all, is only for couples. And beating your ex with the help of your older brother seems a little too pathetic, even in Hange’s case. Unfortunately, they can’t ask Erwin for help too: there is probably not a single soul in their university who hasn’t heard - and, on numerous occasions, witnessed - the great love story that is unfolding between him and Mike. Of course, Hange could go to Nanaba and bribe with her some kind of generous offer - a bottle of her favorite wine or that cactus she’s been fawning over ever since she laid her eyes upon it in a local flower shop, but, although, Nanaba is undeniably kind and unbelievably easy to bribe, she’s also very obviously done with the whole drama surrounding Hange and Zeke’s failed romance. Being a part of a vindictive scheme is probably the last thing that she’d want to do. Hange can always ask Nifa, the girl is too nice to reject them, but after already hurting one member of their science club, they are a bit apprehensive of involving another one.

And that leaves them with just one option, an option they wouldn’t really consider as such, but– Levi hates Zeke too, doesn’t he? For entirely different reasons, of course, but the animosity is there, and, maybe, Hange can play off it.

Levi will probably deny them at first, but with a bit of persuading, pestering and - good-humored, naturally - tormenting, they’re sure he’ll come around.

He must come around, he is Hange’s last and only chance.

And they’ll do anything not to squander it.

________

They set their plan in motion first thing in the morning, taking a seat beside Levi at the beginning of the lecture.

Immediately - he eyes them warily, his eyebrow slightly raised. The reason for his suspicion is understandable - usually Hange occupies the first row, not the last one that Levi seems so fond of. But they’ve foreseen his apprehension, and they beat it swiftly - with a cheerful smile.

Levi takes one look at that smile and– lets out a deep sigh.

“What do you want from me this time?” he asks bluntly, and Hange would have been offended if they weren’t so annoyed by Levi’s ability to read them like a book.

And since Levi doesn’t have the patience to bear around the bush, Hange doesn’t do so either.

With that same - undeniably charming, if they can say so themself - smile, they grab his hand, hold it tightly, and proclaim rather loudly, “Help me, Levi Ackerman, you’re my only hope! Please be my boyfriend for the next two weeks!”

In the first few seconds, Levi seems taken aback - his eyes are wide, his jaw grows slack, and if Hange is not mistaken by the artificial light of the lecture room, his cheeks gain color as well, but then his gaze darts to the entrance, where a limping Moblit is approaching his usual seat, and the realization dawns on him.

And he yanks his hand out of Hange’s grasp.

“Are you for real, four-eyes? You’re still fixated on that jerk?”

“I’m not–” Hange starts, their voice raised in outrage before they notice the annoyed looks of their fellow students. They take a pause then, will their voice to quieten, although it remains just as strict. “I’m not fixated on him! Or anyone else for that matter!” they hiss in Levi’s face. “I just want to beat him!”

Levi raises an eyebrow, looking so unimpressed that Hange starts to rethink their whole plan altogether. Maybe, Nanaba would be more agreeable, after all.

“Do you really want to beat him?” Levi asks. “Or just get him back?”

“Oh fuck you! I’m not that pathetic, you know?”

“The whole campus seems to think otherwise.”

“Well then fuck all of them too,” Hange declares, crossing arms on their chest and turning their face away from Levi’s too sharp eyes. They can’t believe that he out of all people would turn out to be such an asshole about that.

They rise up, ready to storm out and proudly march to their usual seat. Levi’s hand on their elbow stops them, though.

“Is that really it?” he asks, staring into their eyes with intensity Hange has never noticed in him. “You just want to beat him?”

“Well…” Hange’s lips curl into a wry smile. “And, preferably, humiliate him greatly in the process.”

Levi stares at them for another inexplicably long moment, before he returns his gaze back to his nothers.

“Alright then,” he says, “I’m in.”

Hange squeals, and - ignoring the very pointed and very irritated glares of other students - pulls Levi into a hug.

He grumbles something nearly illegible, but - doesn’t push them away.

Hange counts it as another win.

______________

Their first rehearsal, to which Hange drags Levi as soon as their last lecture ends, is… awkward, to say the least.

It’s not in Hange’s nature to be shy, and they know they’re quite tactile, and it’s not like they’ve never touched Levi before. Even with his disagreeable self, there is a hand upon his shoulder there and their legs thrown over his lap here, an occasional hug, and, for god’s sake, they even slept alongside him in his bed during those few incidents when Hange was too drunk to make it to their own.

They’ve been friends since high school, and, although oftentimes Levi acts like he’s repulsed just by their presence alone, Hange knows it to be nothing more than a facade under which he hides his softer - and, dare they say, absolutely adorable - side.

But now, seeing him in the light of a cold and lazy February’s sun that flickers through the window of a dance class and standing so close to him while being very much not drunk, Hange feels… strange. There is a strange flutter in their chest and their belly feels strangely warm, and they’re certain that this warmth has already traveled to their cheeks.

It’s the strange intensity in Levi’s gaze that is to blame, Hange is sure of it. What they’re not sure of if it has always been there. Did he always look at them this way? Did they just never notice?

“Oi,” he snaps abruptly, putting an end to Hange’s reverie. “Are we going to do something? Or just stand for the whole day?”

“Right!” Hange forces a giggle out, knowing it sounds way too weak to appear genuine but not knowing how else to hide their embarrassment. Embarrassment they very - if ever - feel, especially in the presence of someone as familiar to them as Levi. They shake their head, banishing these ridiculous thoughts, and focus on a task at hand. Moving even closer into Levi’s personal space, they take his palm and place it on their shoulder, "So, this goes here,” they murmur, mostly to distract themself from what they’re about to do next, “and this goes here,” they put their hand on Levi’s waist, and then, as the final touch, they take his free hand in their own, “and that’s… how we begin.”

“So you’ll be the one to lead?”

If Hange’s hand wasn’t held by Levi, they would have smacked their forehead. Of course! How could they forget! They’ve practiced the routine with Moblit before, and he, for the most part, was on board with everything Hange offered. But Levi is not Moblit. He is not so… gullible. And he’s quite stubborn, when he wants to be.

What if he refuses to be the led one?

“Are you against it?” Hange asks, tentatively, afraid to hear the answer. If Levi truly is against it, they would need to relearn the whole routine, and with only a week and a half before the competition, they’re unsure if they’re up to it. After all, they’re a scientist, not a dance master.

But Levi dismisses their worries quickly, with a mere shrug.

“I don’t really care. Whatever makes the asshole lose.”

Hange surprises even themself with how relieved their chuckle is. They make eye contact with Levi, wait for him to give them a nod, and then start slowly leading him through the routine.

It’s nothing crazy, naturally, Hange does like dancing, but they’ve never invested much time in perfecting that skill, more focused on their academic talents, but it’s still complicated enough - they do have to flabbergast everyone, juries and, especially, Zeke included - and, at first, Levi struggles to follow, his legs constantly getting tangled up in an effort to match Hange’s pace. But he catches up fairly quickly, he certainly is a quick learner, and as he gets more familiar with the routine, he grows more confident, and– starts to move so gracefully that Hange, who knows the dance like the back of their hand already, feels a little slighted. But the feeling goes away swiftly, as in its stead appears gratitude and a sense of awe.

They really couldn’t find a better replacement for Moblit.

The sun has already set by the time Hange’s body tells them that it’s time to quit. Dancing with Levi is not just easy, it’s surprisingly fun too, and, as a result, they lose track of time completely. They fail to notice just how exhausted they feel too, and it’s only as they get dizzy from yet another turn that Hange registers the pain in their legs.

They motion Levi to stop, and plop down to the floor right where they stood, sprawling across the hard floor of the dance class.

“Disgusting,” Levi comments, but takes a seat next to them. He kicks their shin, waits until Hange turns their head in his direction, and asks. “Except this, do we need to do something else?”

Be it their exhaustion that turns their mind sluggish or just Levi’s cryptic and concise way of communicating, but they can only find one answer to his question, “Huh?”

Levi rolls his eyes like he often does in their presence, and explains. Or, attempts to anyway. “You said I need to be your boyfriend. Does that mean–”

“Oh!” a metaphorical lightbulb flashes over Hange’s head. They chuckled and wave their hand dismissively. “Dunno. I honestly didn’t think about it much, but I guess… we should hang out more, just the two of us, you know? Nothing more than that. I mean, no offense, but I doubt you can act all lovey-dovey with me.”

Strangely, Levi does take offense. His jaw clenches and his eyes narrow, some emotion coming to life inside them that he hides before Hange has a chance to decipher it. “I could,” he says, voice strangely hollow, as he stands up, not looking at Hange anymore. “If I really was your boyfriend.”

Not saying another word, not even bothering with a goodbye, he walks out of the dance class, leaving Hange alone, still laying on the floor, and so, so confused.

_______________________

Hange tries not to let Levi’s words get into their head. They really, really do. They attempt to chalk it all up to him being clumsy with his words, he’s known for that, after all. But usually Hange can easily understand what Levi’s really trying to say. Their friends even call them Levi’s personal translator, because no matter the state they’re in, they always find the meaning in Levi’s short and, oftentimes confusing, remarks. But–

But if Levi meant what they think he meant then– no, it can’t be. It is utterly ridiculous. Even the notion is completely fanciful.

They just were tired, and, maybe, a bit affected by the whole experience. Dancing, after all, is quite an intimate affair. And while they didn’t feel anything even remotely resembling that with Moblit, it’s simply because Moblit is, well, Moblit. Good-looking, certainly, but not in the way that Hange prefers. He lacks the edge that gets them so excited.

Levi has that edge, however, and Hange would have to be completely blind or blatantly lying to deny his handsomeness.

Perhaps, it’s simply natural to feel this way while in such close proximity with him. It’s strictly physiological. It’s not like any deeper feelings are involved.

And, certainly, Levi does not reciprocate them. It’s all just in their head, and it will go away as soon as this whole farce with fake relationship is over.

They just need to win the competition, there is no place in their mind for anything besides that.

_____________

For the next week, they rehearse almost daily, stopping more often than not when they’re either too tired to continue or so sweaty they can’t stand to be so close to one another. The routine evolves a bit, getting more complicated and so, so much better.

As does their relationship.

The necessity to spend so much time alone with Levi pushes Hange to realization that although they’ve known him for so long, they don’t really know him all that much. It shouldn’t be surprising to be honest, he does tend to stick to the background, after all, and it’s understandable why his persona oftentimes gets overlooked in a group of friends as rowdy as theirs is.

But now that Hange pays more attention to him and him only, they discover many hidden sides of him that they had no idea existed. But now that they do, they’re so very eager to explore them in more depth.

For starters, they find out just how funny Levi truly is. They’ve heard his cutting remarks many times before, of course, they’ve laughed at them just as often, but now that there are just the two of them, no raucous laughter from Mike or teasing jests from Nanaba, Hange develops a new fondness for his humor, dry as though it might be.

He’s also unbelievably considerate, a trait of his that before Hange was only vaguely aware of. But now they see just how kind Levi is, albeit he does express it in very peculiar ways. He pushes into Hange’s hands his lunch, saying that he accidentally made way too much, he gives them mittens, claiming that he does not need them, he walks them to their dorm after their dancing sessions because, apparently, he sleeps way better after a stroll, he brings them coffee in the morning, cursing the barista in the local cafe, who mixed up his order for the third time in a row. The kind gestures are adorable and heart-warming to no end, and the badly executed attempts to cover them up make Hange brim with fondness for him.

He’s surprisingly attentive too, not just tolerating Hange’s endless rambling but actually listening to it as well. He barely participates in conversation, no matter what it is about, but he always listens, hums or shakes his head to express his agreement or disbelief.

And– what perplexes Hange most of all - he helps them sell the story of being madly in love when even Hange themself doesn’t think to do so. He sits just a little too close, when they eat in cafeteria, holds their hand as they go to fill the application form to join the contest, and once, as Zeke passes by them in a hallway, he wraps an arm around their waist, pulling their side flash against his.

The act is spontaneous, his palm on their waist is so warm that it snatches air right out of Hange’s lungs.

He lets go of them just as abruptly as he pulled them in, and instantly - they lament the loss of his touch.

And it’s such a ridiculous, completely irrational thought - not only Levi is their friend, but don’t they touch on a daily basis? Aren’t they just as close - if not more - when they’re dancing?

But this feels different, somehow. It was technically unprompted, after all, Hange didn’t ask that of him.

And it’s this very thought that makes them question - why does Levi even go along with their crazy idea? Why a man as blunt as stubborn as he is, didn’t just tell them to fuck off?

With Moblit, at least, there were no doubts. He’s as loyal as they come, and on top of that Hange promised to tutor him in biochemistry to return the favor. With Moblit, there were no secret motives.

Does Levi have any?

Hange doesn’t know, and they hate not knowing, so they decide not to torment themself, not come up with any more ridiculous conclusions, and simply ask like– well, like normal people do.

And so, after yet another rehearsal, just four days before the contest, ask they do.

“So,” they begin, as they sit down to take a much needed breather. They feel too awkward, clumsy, completely out of their element, but Hange braves through, even going as far as to meet Levi’s eyes. “I know I asked a lot of you with this whole contest thing, and I know, you’re not exactly a shy type, so I’ve been wondering… do you want something in return? Maybe, my lecture notes, or–”

“No, nothing like that,” Levi answers. “I haven’t decided what I want yet, but…” he pauses, and for the briefest moments, for half a heartbeat, his eyes dart to Hange’s lips. They notice it, it’s hard not to, but– they don’t know how to feel about it. At least, their mind does not. Their body, however, feels like it’s caught fire. Their cheeks grow hot, their heart beats so, so fast and in their stomach - there is again that strange warm feeling. “Can I tell you after the contest?”

Levi’s voice is calm, level. Hange desperately tries to match it.

“You mean after we beat that pathetic loser?” they say with a chuckle that rings far too hollow. “Sure! You can ask anything of me!”

Their words, the easy promise echoes in their head long after they’ve said it. It still rings in their ears even as they go to bed.

Anything, they’ve said. And with seeping dread, Hange realizes they might really mean it.

_________________________

The last night before the contest is the toughest rehearsal they’ve yet had.

Hange’s moves are out of rhythm, uncoordinated, they’re either too quick or too slow. They’re completely out of sync with Levi, which hasn’t happened… since their very first session.

After one too many accidents of a stomped foot, a low growl rips out of Levi’s throat. He yanks his hand out of Hange’s grasp, marches to turn the music off and turns to look at them, eyes fiery and far too dark.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you that nervous?”

“No!” Hange quickly lies, averting their eyes from Levi’s too intense gaze.

But he lets them have none of it. He’s by their side in an instant, and first - he pulls on Hange’s hand until they take a sit on the floor, then - he keeps hold of that same hand, snatching their right to pretend that nothing’s wrong with them.

“You realize that the world is not going to end if we lose to Zeke, right?” he asks, with far more softness than Hange thought he had in him. “Someone else might win the contest. And even if we do win and beat him fair and square, he’ll continue to be an insufferable dick. It’s not going to fix him, Hange.”

You are not going to fix him, hangs heavily in the air, and that– that makes Hange laugh. Because it’s not their goal, not at all, at least - not anymore. Perhaps, if they were honest with themself, they did want to get Zeke back. They’ve missed him for much longer than the jerk deserved. They’ve craved the exhilarating feeling of being cherished, understood and listened to that he gave them. But– it’s not what they want now. Or, rather - it’s not Zeke that can provide that to them. Now, they have an entirely different problem. A problem that came out of nowhere and doesn’t seem so easily fixed.

A problem in a shape of one Levi Ackerman.

They like spending time with him, perhaps a bit too much, like hanging out and exchanging silly jokes, like sharing lunches, like rambling to him about anything and everything and catching his gaze on them, knowing that he listens, even if he is not particularly interested in the topic. They like dancing with him too, a lot, but more than that - they like having him so close.

Levi is warm and solid, and so gentle that butterflies in their stomach often make Hange feel dizzy. And his eyes - that fascinating color they've always compared to steel in their head, in the artificial light and when they’re aimed at Hange, now seem like a sky on windy, chilly days that are best spent indoors with a cup of tea and an exciting book.

Only Levi’s arms are far warmer than any cup of tea, and he himself is far more fascinating than any book that Hange has ever read.

Levi is amazing, they’ve come to realize, and that realization feels like a brick that’s fallen on their head. Well, hadn’t he always told Hange that they’re a bit too soft in the head? He was right, perhaps. Perhaps, he knew Hange far more better than they knew him.

Hange chuckles softly at their silly thoughts, and, catching Levi’s confused glare, they smile at him and say, “I don’t want Zeke, not anymore.”

The rest of the rehearsal goes on without a hitch.

______________

The night of the contest is very different from what Hange imagined it would be.

There is just as insane amount of little hearts streaming from the ceiling as they expected, the public is as rowdy and cheers for their friends just as loudly, but what is missing is the thrill, the nerves, Hange’s very own clammy hands and wildly beating heart.

Instead of anxiety or anticipation, there is only a sense of melancholy that threatens to swallow them whole.

Tonight is the last time, after all. The last time that they’ll dance with Levi. And the last day that he needs to pretend to be their boyfriend and spend nearly all his time by their side.

They surely will miss it, they surely will miss Levi’s glares, his dry remarks, his blink-and-miss-it smiles, the warmth of his touch and the giddy feeling that being so close to him brought to them.

Everything will return back to normal after this night. Levi will return to his position as a friend Hange only occasionally hangs out with.

Too bad that now they wish to be someone more to him.

“Zeke looks even uglier with that beard. You definitely dodged a bullet there, four-eyes. Imagine kissing that face.”

It’s with a start that Hange turns to look at Levi. They haven’t realized he was standing so close to them. And they haven’t realized that it’s Zeke’s turn to perform now.

How laughable, they think, allowing themself a little moment of self-pity, they've spent so much time and effort to beat Zeke, and now they don’t even follow his routine.

But nothing is out of usual, is it? It’s just in their nature - jumping from one fixation to another and losing themself completely in it.

“Not even reacting to my jokes now? It’s pretty rude, you know?” Levi now inches closer, his breath warming Hange’s ear. Like that, it’s very hard not to shiver.

Like that, it’s very hard not to think how much they want him.

“Sorry,” they put as much conviction as they can but the chuckle still comes out incredibly forced. “I was just zoning out.”

“You looked sad,” Levi says, his mouth pulled in a displeased expression. “Is it because of–”

“Of course not!” Hange denies hastily. And just as hastily they take Levi by the hand. They don’t know even as they do it why they do it, but– Levi’s hand is warm and soft and fits right into theirs. And– he does not pull back.

That is enough for Hange to await their turn with a smile on their face.

____________

When their names are announced and they’re ushered onto the scene, the nerves do get the best of Hange, but - only for a fleeting moment.

They look away from the crowd, missing the smug smirk on Zeke’s face, they tune out all the cheering and applause, and focus only on the music and a man in front of them.

Gliding through the stage is easy when they know Levi follows them, that he will mirror their every step and move. Hange forgets about everything, lets emotions wash over them as they enjoy their last dance with him.

The music swells, coming to a climax only at the very end, as Hange, with all the dramatics they can muster and not breaking eye contact with Levi, dips him.

The song ends on a high note and the crowd’s cheering fill the silence instantly, and Hange is ready to straighten their partner, when something unexpected happens.

That unexpected comes in the form of Levi’s hand fisted in their tie and pulling on it until Hange’s face is inches away from his. The unexpected doesn’t stop there, and it blows Hange’s mind completely, when Levi crushes his lips against theirs.

The kiss is sudden - and that is quite an understatement - and it is sloppy, uncoordinated, their positions are too uncomfortable to allow it to be anything less than that, but none of that matters, none of that makes this moment any less precious to Hange. They lose themself in it, the world fading to the background instantly, but all too soon - Levi pulls back.

“I made you chocolate,” he whispers in the small space between their lips. “Be my Valentine?”

Quick and sure, without even a shadow of a doubt, Hange answers - by kissing Levi once again. They put too much force, too much feeling in it, and as a result, both of them end up in a mess of limbs on the floor.

The public dissolves into cheery laughter right away, and so does Hange, and after a quick beat - Levi joins as well.

He looks so handsome like this - with cheeks red, lips swollen and eyes sparkling. Hange can’t tear their gaze away from him, they don’t want this moment to ever end. It sadly does when one of the professors ushers them off scene with a strict voice and badly hidden smile. But Hange doesn’t let that small hindrance put their mood down. They help Levi get to his feet, clasp his hand tightly in theirs and lead him to a more secure place, away from the public’s greedy eyes.

That night, they don’t find out who won the competition. That night, they find themself preoccupied with far more pressing matters. That night turns out to be the very first one of the many, many more to come.

#you may wonder why is this fic set in february when it's already june?#well it's because it was in my drafts since january and only now i found the will to finish and post it #levihan

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