#but they absolutely would do that. risk of glass breaking from heat be damned they Will put their favourite drink in the cool adult glass

[missholoska]

Your Adult Chara makes me think that they act like a sad dramatic wine aunt who has always the widest stories, the wisest advice and a drink in their hands (it's hot chocolate) in their mid 20s, is it accurate or am I being insane?

100% accurate, chocoholic auncle chara is the role model the children deserve 👍

(the ghost in question was frisk, they're just saving that detail for the end of the story)

[junowritings]

The heat here's been absolute killer the past couple days - so it got me thinking how the rest of the Batch would cope and this cute idea popped up

All my love and thanks again to @itscanonfellas for being a huge help with this!

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Heatwave

Wrecker X Reader

Warnings: None

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The first year on Pabu, you’d learned a valuable lesson.

And it was that the heatwaves here were relentless.

The heat’s been gradually ramping up throughout the day - what was once a tepid warmth is now downright blistering both inside and out.

The batch has scattered to the four corners of the property once it became apparent that the temperature wasn’t cooling down anytime soon. 

You’re pretty sure the only one who’s still technically in the house aside from you is Tech; though last time you checked in he was doing what he could to actively combat the heat, opening every single window in the vicinity while tinkering with what you hope is the beginnings of a fan from the living room couch.

Most of your morning has been spent in and out of the fridge - most of the time to fetch drinks but you’ve been caught a couple times leaning into the thing for a two second break from the sweltering temperature only to be griped at for wasting the cold.

It’s around lunchtime when you finally decide to check on everyone, fishing out a pitcher of water from the fridge that someone - likely Tech - had the foresight to stow away earlier. The icy chill against your hands is sorely welcome as you pour out several glasses - it’ll take a few trips to dish them all out, but you’d rather not try to pull a balancing act and risk smashing the glasses trying to show off.

Making the rounds is simple. Even on the hottest days you can always find the batch in their regular haunts, so tracking them down is rudimentary. Your first port of call is the living room, of course. Though Tech barely even glances up at you, thoroughly invested in the amalgamation of machinery scattered across the coffee table, he expresses his gratitude in his own way, giving your arm a brief pat as you push the glass into his field of view. With him taken care of your next route leads you outside.

From the vantage of the rooftop, you can make out a few figures across the backyard and beyond. It gives you a good idea on where everybody’s camped out. A couple of weeks after moving in, the rooftop had to be renovated; Crosshair had been a big help in getting it done, and had promptly claimed a corner of the building for his stuff the moment it was finished. You’d wondered why he had been so helpful, until you figured out it was for personal gain. Well played. Balancing the glass and working the stairs takes some work but you manage to reach the rooftop where, as expected, you find Crosshair propped up in the usual spot. 

The hammock’s a new addition, and as you approach, Crosshair peeks out from his current perch, eyes sharp gauging whoever’s brave enough to come into his space. Once he spots you, or more accurately, the drink you basically hover over his face he softens considerably, though the drink is promptly swiped from your hands the very next second.

You head to your next target.

By the time you find the poor soul lost to the heat, you have to practically peel Omega off of the large rock she’s decided to lounge on like a damn lizard. It takes some maneuvering with only one hand but you manage, holding her up long enough to accept the offered drink and making her promise to find somewhere shadier. Though she looks content to bake in the sun, the last thing you need is to explain to Hunter how Omega ended up burnt to a crisp if she stays out much longer. 

Echo’s got the right idea when you locate him, tucked away beneath the tree to the right of the house basking in the shade with the company of the ice packs previously left forgotten in the back of the freezer. You’re a little miffed you didn’t think of that first honestly, and you praise him for the smart thinking, as you kneel down to nudge him into taking a glass. Echo’s polite enough to offer you a pack for your trouble and while it’s tempting you inevitably turn it down. You’re not blind - even in the shade you’re sure the sweltering heat has a poor effect on his cybernetics and you can only imagine the extra trouble he has to go through not to overheat.

Even Hunter, whose body temperature runs cooler than the rest of the batch, is working up a sweat in the unrelenting heat, legs kicked up on the fencing as he presses himself into a shaded corner of the porch bench when you meander over.

He’s got a datapad in his lap and his sunhat is tilted down to hide his face from view. He looks every bit the napping dad, down to the uncomfortable sleeping position which definitely won’t help his back when he moves. You’re already conjuring up an old man joke in your head, giggling on approach, when Hunter tips the hat back and eyes you up with one eye.

Probably best not to test his patience on a day like this, the supporting the elderly jokes can wait until the temperature becomes inhabitable.

Still, the glass is accepted graciously after being assured you have your own drink inside. That leaves you with just one more person to find - thankfully you know exactly where he is.

Wrecker is definitely suffering the worst from the heat - his body runs warm enough that he is basically a walking furnace, even without any extra layers helping him. Maybe it’s all the extra muscle or the excess energy that practically rolls off of him in waves, but Wrecker’s always ran the warmest out of his brothers.

Stars, you still remember having to drop by Hoth once a year back. The Marauder’s AC had sputtered and packed up the moment you’d hit planetside. While Wrecker didn’t so much as shiver the rest of the crew weren’t so lucky, and had to pilfer every single piece of clothing and blankets on the ship just to feel a fraction of warmth. And even then it’d taken cuddling up close to the bigger clone just to stop your body from turning into an ice cube - a kindness you repaid with as much junk food as you could physically carry as soon as you were able to defrost back in temperate climates.

Sure Wrecker’s warmth had been a lifesaver during the frigid months - You quite happily spent as much time as you could wileing the winter nights away curled up in his arms, sapping at that endless source of body heat as he tucked you eagerly against his chest.

But now? It looked like his internal oven was biting him in the ass.

You find him in the backyard sprawled out on one of the deck chairs, looking a couple of minutes away from melting and becoming one with the furniture. You’re careful to step over the shirt and shoes carelessly discarded in Wrecker’s bid to cool off, but even stripped down to his shorts the poor man’s sweating bullets. 

It’s impossible not to feel bad for him; you’re hoping that the water will be enough to ease some of his suffering. Taking pity on the sorry state he’s been reduced to, you carry the ice-cold drink over to where he’s slumped, the ice cubes clinking against the base of the glass as you round the deck chair he’s slumped against.

You make sure Wrecker knows that you’re there before you try anything, you’d rather not have the thing go flying if he were to jump up because you’d surprised him. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s knocked something flying because he’d been taken by surprise - by complete accident, of course, and you recall the hour worth of profuse apologies following the fiasco as he’d helped you clean the mess.

Leaning up against the chair frame you bring a hand to smooth over his bare shoulder, and the heat from his skin practically radiates beneath your fingertips. Stars he really is burning to the touch. Wrecker grumbles leaning a little into the gentle caress but doesn’t open his eyes. Your heart breaks seeing your usually overexcitable partner looking so drained.

“Oh Wrecker,” sighing, you rub slow circles into his shoulder, hoping to coax him into rousing long enough to show him what you’ve brought with you. When that doesn’t work you try the next best thing - gently pressing the drink to his temple.

The moment the chill of the glass touches his feverish skin, the sigh that Wrecker lets out is one of absolute bliss, head tilting back desperate to chase the relief that the glass provides.

“Oooooh that feels nice.” and you’re sure it does, as the knit in his brows eases and his expression morphs from discomfort to content.

Now that you’ve got Wrecker’s attention you lift the glass from his forehead - reluctantly, but you’d rather he enjoyed his drink before the ice melts. It’s a good thing he isn’t looking at you yet, because it takes all you have not to laugh at the way he groans at the loss, leaning back far enough on the chair you have to press against his shoulder before he ends up tipping the whole thing over.

He cracks an eye open to look up at you, and your expression warms at the cute lopsided grin he flashes. Your name falls from Wrecker’s lips with a content rumble as he stretches out, no doubt working the feeling back into his limbs.

“C’mon Wreck,” you sooth, pressing a quick kiss in place of where the drink had just been - a little cooler than it was before thankfully. “It’ll be better if you drink it before it melts.”

Wrecker’s sluggish but pushes himself upright at your instruction. When he no longer looks as though he’s about to sink back into the deck chair you balance yourself on the edge of it.

Slotting into a space where the chair dips with his weight you make yourself comfortable beside him in spite of the heat. From this spot the sun is relentless - it definitely isn’t helping Wrecker’s overheating problem - and you’re vaguely aware of the warmth that burns along your shoulders and the back of your neck as you twist to face away from the sun. Condensation drips along the outside of the cup in hand, a clear sign as any that you’ve been holding the thing for too long; and the moment you’ve got his eyes on you you’re handing it over.

Wrecker visibly brightens as you give the glass a little swirl, wordlessly coaxing him to take it. A large hand overlaps yours as he accepts the offered drink, giving your fingers a grateful squeeze before freeing the cup from your grip. He tips his head back and just about necks a good third of the glass’ contents, more than a bit of it dripping down his chin in his haste to get something cool into his system.

He’s halfway through chugging the thing before apparently deciding it’s not cooling him down quick enough. In the next second the remaining contents of the glass are promptly poured over Wrecker’s head, rivulets of water streaking pathways over his shoulders and down his front as he groans in relief. 

As though the refreshment has breathed life back into your beloved boyfriend Wrecker barks out a laugh, running a hand over his head. You bite back a chuckle at how fast he perks up, shaking his head like a wet dog - you have to lean back to avoid the splash zone, your eyes following the trails of water droplets that roll down his cheeks and drip from his jaw like a leaky faucet.

“You’re the best, Mesh’la!” Wrecker’s got the foresight to put down the empty glass first before he ducks down, pressing his lips to yours. 

Thanks to the refreshment they’re wonderfully cool and you’re more than happy to sink into the kiss, cupping his face between your hands with a blissful sigh of your own.

“Oh am I?“ You break the kiss just long enough to hum, your thumbs chasing the leftover drops on his chin and swiping them away. You already know the answer - Wrecker never shies away from reminding you every chance he gets - but it never fails to make your heart swell.

“Aw, c'mon ya already know it.” Saying this his kisses start wandering away from your lips, peppering over the bridge of your nose and across your cheek to just below the curve of your ear.

He noses the area affectionately, grinning against your skin at the giggle it elicits from you - a sound that makes him melt all over again.

Wrecker’s affection is all-encompassing - eager to crowd into your space and shower you with all of the love you could possibly want and then some. It’s one of the many things you adore about him, and you’re eager to reciprocate as he drags his mouth across your skin to your lips for more kisses.

He’s still unbearably warm, sweat slicked skin pressing against your side as he curls one arm around your waist, fingers squeezing tenderly at the bare space where your shirt rides up. The other hand comes to rest on your lower back, large palm spread flat along the dip of your spine pressing you against him and you all but fall pliantly into place. Each brush of his mouth against your own ekes out soft, dreamy sighs, and your hands trail down the back of his neck, looping around broad scarred shoulders to tug him closer.

You’d quite happily kiss him all day if you could - maker knows Wrecker would literally jump at the word go. Too bad the hot weather ruins your fun, as you become aware of the burning heat that begins to crawl down your neck and back in the wake of his touch - unfortunately not just thanks to his kisses, as the sun is apparently keen on reminding you.

Your attempt to avoid the heat is followed easily by Wrecker, whose huge form provides an excellent form of shade. That is until you start to feel the deck chair beginning to tip back. 

Your hands fly up to curb the affectionate onslaught before he sends it toppling along with the pair of you. Reluctantly you push away from his lips, though Wrecker is quick enough to steal a couple more kisses for good measure before you can get a word in.

“You’re hot.” you huff, but it only gets you a cheeky grin as he bumps his nose against yours.

“Thanks.”

With a snort you press a hand to Wrecker’s bare chest before he can dive in for another kiss. “I meant that literally, Wreck. You need to cool off - I’d rather not have to pry you off of this chair when you overheat again.”

This time it’s Wrecker’s turn to huff, breath stiflingly warm on your neck as he buries his face into the crook of it. “I dunno, these kisses are helping an awful lot…” he presses another kiss, just for good measure and you snort a laugh.

“That’ll do anything but cool you down and you know it.”

The pads of your fingers smooth out along his chest, idly tracing over an old scar that stretches below his collarbone. “Could always spray you down in the fresher,” you suggest, “But I’m pretty sure Hunter wouldn’t be happy about wasting all the water.”

“Wouldn’t call that a waste.”

“Your brothers would say otherwise.”

The defeated groan he lets out in response when he realizes you’re not budging vibrates against your skin, and you bring your hand up to pat his back in a ‘there there’ gesture that only earns another groan.

Wrecker goes quiet after a moment, uncharacteristically so considering how boisterous he usually is. That lasts for a moment too long, and you’re beginning to worry you’ve lost him to heatstroke when he suddenly pushes himself upright with a gasp.

“The beach!”

“The beach?” You laugh, a little baffled at the sudden switch. “How did we make the jump from the freshers to the beach?”

“Think ‘bout it! It’s the only way to have constant water without Hunter blowing a fuse!” He taps against his head with his finger and then pokes the center of yours, as if transferring the thought. 

Huh. That’s actually a good idea - one of the many perks of living here was basically being a couple clicks away from the beach. You have to wonder why no one came to that conclusion before. Maybe it was the brain fog accumulated through trying to avoid actively baking beneath the sun for the past couple of hours?

“Right, you wrangle up the others. I’ll head back inside and get the swimsuits and-” your would be list is cut off abruptly as Wrecker promptly scoops you out of the chair, the ground leaving your feet as you sail airborne upwards, finally finding your place over Wrecker's shoulder. It’s wide enough you don’t fall off at all but your vision is upside down for a few seconds. 

“WRECKER!”

“Na, we don’t need no swimsuits! We’ll be in the water!”

You fail to see the logic there. “Wrecker, I'm not swimming naked!”

“You won’t, you can wear what you’re wearing right now.” He protests, still making strides away from the house.

“I can’t swim fully clothed either.”

“Why not? It’ll be fun!”

It doesn’t seem like Wrecker’s in much of a mood to listen to reason - not that he ever is when his mind is set on something. It’s something you both loved and hated about the man. “Fine. But you’re the one who’ll be scrubbing the sand out of everybody’s stuff later.”

“That’s a sacrifice I am willing to make.” He adjusts you on his shoulder, moving you so you’re less like a sack of potatoes and more perched atop it, allowing you to look down at his grinning face. “Now can we go to the beach?”

“The beach?!”  As if the words alone have summoned her, Omega skids into view. All signs of fatigue are long gone and she’s practically beaming, looking significantly redder than the last you saw of her - oh, she is definitely sunburnt. Hunter’s going to kick a fit. “We’re going to the beach?!”

“You bet we are kid!” Omega cheers, practically jumping for joy on the spot. “Go round up the crew and we’re out of here.”

She stands to attention in an instant, hand raised in a mock of a salute with all the seriousness of a child being promised a reward. “Sir yes sir!” and she’s gone in a blink of an eye, sprinting up the path towards the house; stumbling in her haste “Guys! Wake up! We’ve got a mission!”

It takes seconds for Hunter to burst through the back doors into the yard; leaning over the fence with wild eyes and - he had most definitely drifted off between your conversation and this rendezvous, he still looks half asleep. Looks like peace has done Hunter some good. “What? What mission, what’s happening?”

“The beach! We’re going to the beach!” Her shrill voice carries and from your vantage point, you see Hunter press his head to the wooden railing. It looks like he’s either trying to calm his heart or gather his strength not to throttle Omega for the fright. “Did you hear, Crosshairs?”

Your gaze travels.

Crosshair is on the roof, rifle already in hand, though he seems to have clocked on that there is no danger and seems to be contemplating using Omega for target practice instead.

The girl really didn’t know how often her life hung in the balance in this place.

She disappears into the house in a blur of blonde and red - followed swiftly by Hunter, who definitely clocked onto the sunburn the kid’s sporting and runs a defeated hand down his face as he trails behind.

Sighing at their antics you drop your arm to rest atop Wreckers head, bracing yourself on his shoulder. The victorious grin on Wrecker’s face only brightens as he places a hand on your thigh to help keep you upright, rubbing slow circles. Clearly he’s got no plans on putting you down any time soon. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s planning on carrying you the whole way there atop his shoulder.

The thought makes you smile - a smile that breaks into a knowing smirk as you hear a shout from inside the house demanding to know who’d used the last of the sun screen.

[mellowyandere]

You’re Ours to Protect

Had a weird dream last night. Thought you might enjoy it. 

Reader: F

Characters: Toshinori Yagi (All Might), Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)

Summary: Your time as an anti-hero might finally be coming to an end. With three pros on your tail it’s a miracle this didn't happen sooner. (Reader has a quirk but it’s not very important to the smut.)

Length: 4.5 K (I have come to the conclusion that I am incapable of writing below 4 K)

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, slight bondage/restraints, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, anal fingering, anal sex, M/M/F, mostly clothed male, naked reader, slight cum swallowing, Eraserhead and Present Mic are in an established relationship in this fic. 

Hands were on your body, hands that shouldn’t be there. Your mind was stuck in a fog, your limbs so heavy you could barely move them. What was going on? You strained to remember, thinking long and hard about what might have led you here as calloused fingers blazed trails along your exposed thighs. You managed to wiggle your limbs a bit, shaking off the haze that muddled your brain.

You groaned, trying to open your eyes so you can get a better understanding of your surroundings. Your hands were restrained behind your back but it seemed your legs were free. You'd murder who ever had their fucking hands on you. As your eyes adjusted to the light you couldn't help but groan again as the figure in front of you came into view. You tried and failed to subtly use your quirk, this didn’t look good.

“Eraserhead. Didn’t realize you were still wasting your time looking for me. Not my fault I beat you to that criminal. Hero’s leaving trash like him alive is such a stupid concept. He was a murderer you know.” 

You looked around to the best of your ability as you spoke, you were sitting on a plush dark green couch in what appeared to be a relatively empty basement. You had been stripped of your gear, leaving you in your underwear and an oversized t-shirt. Two men were flanking you on the couch. The one to your left you didn't recognize. He was ridiculously tall, as well as skinny. Blond hair a mess as two long bangs hid his eyes from view. To your right was a pro you did recognize. His emerald green eyes sparkled in delight behind his civilian glasses as he grinned down at you. So it was their hands on your body currently. They’d die first then. 

“So, what does that make you?” the dark haired pro murmured, leaning forwards and somewhat regaining your attention. 

You ignored his question, opting to look about some more. There wasn't a one-way mirror or any recording device in sight. Were they interrogating you off the books? This whole situation seemed off, these were heroes right? They’d convict you and leave you to rot in a dingy jail cell somewhere.. but this didn't look like a normal interrogation room. 

“I know this is my first time getting caught and all but this doesn’t really seem up to protocol. Gonna haul me away after having fun or something?” You shifted your gaze to the obsidian eyes in front of you, leaning forwards to mimic his posture. 

Present Mic barked out a laugh, hand squeezing harder on you thigh much to your annoyance. “Sorry babe but prison won’t be your final destination! I mean after all y’aint evil, just a lil misguided is all, nothin’ three pros can’t fix.” He ended his sentence with a pinch to your leg. 

“If you don’t get your fucking hands off me I’ll kill you!” You snarled, turning and getting up in Present Mic’s face. The tall blond to your left pulled his hands back, scooting away as Present Mic continued to leer down at you. 

“HAH little girls got some bite, but we already knew that. Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to use that quirk. I’m hurt now! You really would try to kill me huh?” he mocked with a fake pout, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. 

“I’m sure you’ve already realized by now you can’t use your quirk. It wasn’t easy making a device to cancel it out, but thanks to our newest colleague here the hardest part was collecting your DNA and picking what color collar we wanted.” Eraserhead leaned forward, fingers tugging on the collar you only now just realized was around your neck.

You tried to bite him, but he pulled back. If only you could wipe that stupid smirk off his face with a heart attack. Your quirk was the ability to clot blood after all. A handy trick if you found yourself injured, but even more so for killing once you learned how to properly control it. No one really batted an eye at an ischemic stroke due to the clotting of an artery to the brain. Well.. almost nobody.. 

“You have a very impressive ability,” the tall blond stated, “in all honesty we probably wouldn’t have caught on if we hadn’t watched you kill. You’ve induced countless of natural looking deaths, but upon closer inspection you target people whose crimes would have landed them in jail. Noble, but very misguided. You’re pretty reckless though, what if you had gotten hurt?” 

“So fucking what if I did.” You kept your eyes glued to Present Mic as you responded, trusting him a lot less than the man behind you. His eyes narrowed dangerously at your snarky rebuttal.

“Language young lady, and that’s no way to talk! What would compel you to risk your life, why don’t you trust your hero’s more?” 

You clenched your teeth in frustration but didn’t respond. You were done cooperating, not like you were doing much to begin with though.

The scrapping of a metal chair on concrete drew your gaze as Eraserhead stood up. 

“Back up Zashi, I’ll take over from here. Toshinori you’re fine where you are.” 

You couldn’t help but struggle a bit at his words. “What do you mean, what the hell are you going to do!? You insane or something? Just turn me in to the police!”

“You really don't pay attention do you. Hizashi already said you’re not going to the police. I don’t know what skeletons you have in your closet, or why you started killing people, but that will come out in due time. For now you don’t have to kill anymore. The three of us will take care of you, without the law sentencing you to life. We’ve been hunting you down for so long. We’ve been very patient, but right now you need us to help show you what you’ve been missing. Running around all by yourself, you must have been so lonely.” Eraserhead finished up his little spiel as he stalked forwards, looming over your sitting frame. 

“Don’t fucking TOUC-gah!” You had been so focused on Eraserhead’s approach you hadn’t noticed Present Mic coming at you with a gag until it was too late. 

“Yagi already asked you to watch that dirty mouth of yours, don’t worry though babe once you simmer down a bit we’ll take it out.”

“Ple-please Hizashi call me Toshinori we’ve been over this.”

You gave Eraserhead your best glare as he stopped in front of you. He smiled softly at your defiance before wedging his knee in between your legs and slamming his hands onto the couch, caging you in. Wait by show you what you were missing.. these hero's were going to..?

You tried to talk reason, but all that came out were muffled pleas. None of it coherent. 

“We’ve been watching over you for 5 months now kitten. Trying to find the best way to approach you but in the end taking you somewhere safe seemed to be the only logical solution. While getting this house ready for your arrival we all started to feel as if you belonged here all along. I know it’s not fair, we’ve had so much longer to get to know you, but you’ll know us just as well soon enough.”

It was official. These pros had lost their damn minds. They actually figured out how to justify what they were about to do to you. Your promise to only kill criminals was really coming back to bite you on the ass. 

You brought your legs up and tried to kick him off, but were quickly thwarted by two pairs of hands grabbing them and pinning you down. 

“Now now sweetheart none of that, Shouta here is just going to show you our conviction. No one will ever hurt you again now that we are here. Now that I am here” The last part was mumbled more to himself than the group. 

Something must have happened to these men to cause their hero complex to grow into something so twisted. But that was no fucking excuse for their actions. They needed therapy, not someone to play damsel in distress with.

Shouta lowered himself between your legs until he was kneeling on the floor in front of you. You tried to plead with your eyes, beg him to stop, but he met your gaze with something bordering love. That wasn’t good. Breaking eye contact he looked down at your underwear, bringing a hand up you held your breath as he gently brushed against your core. 

“You can’t even begin to imagine how much I’ve dreamed of this moment. You truly are something special, and yet you treat your life with such little regard it’s maddening.” He trailed his knuckles against the thin fabric as he spoke, your traitorous body sparking heat in your lower abdomen in anticipation. 

Pulling your underwear to the side he slowly began to slide his fingers up and down your progressively wetting folds. 

“Well now, someone secretly enjoyin’ themselves baby,” Hizashi all but purred, his hand squeezing your flesh while his gaze was transfixed on where his partner was violating you. You couldn’t help but let out a pitiful whine. It was absolutely humiliating being spread out before these three men. 

The noises your wet cunt were making were no help to your embarrassment, and they only got worse once the dark haired pro rid you of your last line of defense and began to insert two of his fingers. 

“H-how does she feel?” Toshinori couldn’t help but ask. His face was flushed red, along with the tips of his ears as his vibrant blue eyes watched Shouta’s fingers slowly sink inside you. 

“Tight, shit she’s tight. She’s perfect, so fucking wet for her hero's. I’ll work you open kitten don’t worry.” You couldn’t help but clamp down on his fingers at his words, earning a deep chuckle in response. 

“See now, such a good girl aren’t you. Prison is no place for you kitten, though if you want we can always role-play your wardens.”

Role-play my ass we’re already living it, was all you could think bitterly. 

As if he read your mind Shouta couldn’t help but continue to antagonize you, thumb beginning to make light circles against your clit as he pumped his fingers, adding a third and quickly burying them knuckle deep. Soft whimpers slipped from your mouth as you tried in vain to wiggle away from Eraserhead’s deft fingers. 

Hizashi was getting impatient, removing one of his hands to grasp your breast through the t-shirt you had on. His slim fingers began to pinch and rub your nipple, though his eyes never left your cunt. 

Toshinori was struggling in his own way. Raspy breaths with slight coughs as he grew more and more aroused. He too removed a hand from your leg, but instead made quick work of the zipper on his pants. Taking his semi hard cock in his hand he began gently stroke himself while watching your display. 

You truly were everything they had ever wanted. But you didn’t want this, despite your bodies responses to their ministrations. You could feel it, Shouta seemed to know exactly where to stroke as he worked you up tighter and tighter, velvety walls clamping down at your approaching climax. 

You found each man murmuring their own words of praise, anywhere from “That’s it baby girl, take all of Sho now,” to “Such a perfect princess, do you want to finish?” The man between your legs even adding to the mantra of soft words spoken to you. “So close kitten, see what good girls get. You’re going to cum for me okay?” 

He posed it like a question but you knew it was far from it. It was a statement, a matter of fact statement that you couldn’t deny even if you had tried. Your back arched, moans and mewls intercepted but not completely blocked out by your gag as you rocked against his hand. He gladly continued to finger you, watching as you came down from your high and only then removed his hand. 

You were panting hard, shame quickly washing away the pleasure from your orgasm. Sensing the shift in your demeanor Hizashi was quick to pounce, peppering your face in kisses despite your shifty protests and groans of despair. “None of that now babe, after all we’re just gettin’ this show started!” 

Shouta stood and moved out from between your legs, licking some of your slick off his hand before he wiped the rest on his black pants leg. “You got lube Zashi?” Hizashi paused his attack and shot the dark haired pro a million dollar smile. “You bet our babes cute ass I got it! Lemme find it, hold her Toshi.”

Toshinori floundered a bit, cock in hand as Hizashi shoved you closer to him, before jumping up from the couch. Eyes trailing down to his hand you couldn’t help but freeze in shock. Not only was this man stupid tall, his dick was frighteningly large. The older hero noticed your stare and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at your expression. “Don’t worry princess, Shouta and Hizashi are going to help you today. My sides acting up so I’ll only be watching.” 

As if on cue the man was hit by a coughing fit, and much to your surprise he even coughed up some blood. Eraserhead was still looming over you, leaning over he gently rubbed the older blonds back as he tried to ease him through the pain. You didn’t dare move as all this transpired around you. What good would it have done you anyways? You were effectively quirkiness, and your fighting skills would be severely lacking against the two heroes you knew. You had no idea who this Toshinori guy was, but if he was close to Eraserhead and Present Mic you doubted he was weak. 

You heard Hizashi rummaging behind you through a dresser you hadn’t noticed earlier. Craning your neck, you peered over and cried out in frustration. 

“Tada!” He sung triumphantly, a small bottle of lube in his hand. “Act two can now officially begin!” You could only yell and wiggle about in protest, your arms still tied behind your back. Toshinori’s hand on your thigh moved to gently pat you on the head. 

“Behave now for them okay? If you’re good we can show you the rest of our home after this.” 

You jerked your head out from under his hand and yelled more incoherent nonsense out of frustration. You had expected anger to replace the adoring look in his eyes but you were only met with fond amusement. 

He stood up with a hearty laugh, erection still in hand as he grabbed Shouta’s discarded chair, sitting down facing the couch. Shouta was quick to take Toshinori’s place on the couch while Hizashi took up residence behind you. 

“I have a feelin’ this star ain’t a fan of the spotlight, no need to be camera shy babe.” You watched Shouta roll his eyes at his partner in crime before he began to manhandle you. Hands under your armpits he pulled you up and wrangled you onto your knees facing him on the couch. 

Hizashi slid one knee between your legs so you couldn't close them. Your tied hands couldn’t help but brush up against his clothed hard on, causing him to rut against you a bit in anticipation. 

Without warning he took a solid grip of your t-shirt and ripped it off. You squeaked in surprise, your face heating up as you realized you were the only person fully naked in the room. 

“Was it really necessary to rip my shirt?”

“Sorry about that Toshi! Didn’t want to delay the show with takin’ off her bindings yah dig? You rip them a bunch anyways so what’s another to the pile? But ain’t this just so much better, our baby girl on full display it makes my heart swoon!”

“Just get her ready Hizashi, and no rushing it, you don’t want to hurt her.”

“Aight aight sorry I’ll get to work, you keep her happy.”

Both men moved closer, pressing your body between them. They had propped themselves up on their knees and had you effectively stuck. Shouta gently placed one hand around your neck, giving your collar a tug, while the other trailed down and began to gently work your still wet pussy. 

You stared into his chest, trying your best to space out but jerked back to reality when you heard the pop of a lid behind you. 

“Don’t worry babe I’ll get you ready, I’m somewhat of a pro yah know?” 

That was when you felt his lubed finger gently prodding your other hole. You jolted forwards into Shouta who didn’t even budge in response to your full body weight. Hizashi simply shuffled closer, continuing to push until finally he breached you. You whimpered at the uncomfortable intrusion. 

Shouta's fingers lazily worked your cunt as he rocked his erection against your lower abdomen. Despite the fact that you hated the feeling of his growing arousal you couldn’t help but lean into him to try and get away from Hizashi as he slipped another finger inside. Tears slowly rolled down your face in frustration as the two heroes prepared your body. 

“There we go kitten, you’re doing so well. Just be patient alright and it won’t hurt so bad.” Shouta removed his hand from around your neck and placed it on your head, angling your gaze to the third member of the group you had almost forgotten while pulling you flush to his clothed chest so you couldn’t freely change your field of view. 

Toshinori was leaned back in the metal folding chair, which looked comically small with him sitting on it. His eyes were clouded with lust as he stroked his thick cock. His own pre-cum and spit adding obscene noises to his ministrations. He gave you a lopsided smile as you made eye contact, causing you to quirky avert your gaze. 

By this point Hizashi had worked three fingers knuckle deep into your tight hole, but coupled with Shouta’s work the line between uncomfortable and pleasurable began to mix together. A breathless moan escaped you as the two pros finally got their desired reaction. 

“She’s as good as she’s gonna get Sho, let’s say you and me start the finale I can’t take feelin’ her tight lil hole clamping down on my fingers any longer. Not when I got somethin’ much better for her.”

Your tears flowed a bit faster at your impending fate. This was fucking insane! You might have been a murderer, but you weren't expected to be a good person unlike these men. These heroes who were now violating you.

Since Shouta was in black sweatpants he merely leaned back a bit and pulled them down, cock springing free. He had a solid girth to him, red tip dripping pre down his shaft to his unruly black pubic hair. You heard a zipper behind you as the blond freed himself, though due to being squashed between the two you had no idea what to prepare for. 

Hizashi hummed in contemplation at your tied hands, currently in the way of his objective. “Bonds might have to go Sho, you get her hands?” The sleepy hero merely nodded grasping your wrists as Hizashi swiftly untied them. 

“Ready now primadonna?”

“Ha ha you’re soo funny Sho... but yes, shit, I’m fucking ready.”

You kept quiet this time, head pressed against Shouta’s chest as you listened to his rapidly beating heart. You gave one last pleading look to the lean blond watching intently from the sideline, but all he did was shrug his shoulders with a small smile on his face. 

“You’re going to do great princess don’t worry.” 

You felt the tips of each man at their respective entrance, Shouta's teasing your soaking cunt while Hizashi lightly probed your lubed ass. You closed your eyes and accepted defeat. They gently began to rut their hips, cocks sinking deeper with each thrust. You felt uncomfortably full as they breached you. 

“Oh fuck oh fuck I can feel you through her.” The blond quickly grabbed your breasts, tweaking your nipples like he had earlier. 

“Easy does it kitten, we got you,” Shouta groaned out. 

You weren’t a fan of Hizashi behind you, rocking forward into Shouta as they continued to fuck into you. He squeezed down on your wrists in warning, hot breath fanning the top of your head. It didn’t take much longer before they both had finally bottomed out. You groaned in distress while they groaned in bliss. 

“I’ve got her wrists you help her out alright, and take it easy.”

“Sheesh I heard yah the first time, I’ll help our lil girl out.”

Hizashi snaked a hand in between you and Shouta, finding your clit. 

They both continued fucking into you, Hizashi matching Shouta’s pace as they stimulated your body. You were angry, humiliated, and yet somehow you were so turned on it was embarrassing. You should be thrashing about, snarling into your gag, but instead all you could do was rock your body to their salacious tempo. 

Peeking your eyes open at a particularly hard thrust from Hizashi you saw Toshinori on the edge of the chair. You could just barely make out his raspy breaths and small moans over Shouta and Hizashi’s groaning. His brilliant blue eyes bore into your own. One of his hands worked his long shaft while the other was death gripping his clothed thigh. It almost looked as if steam was pouring off of him. Was he always that muscular?

You didn’t have long to contemplate Toshinori though, with a pinch to your clit Hizashi made sure to regain your attention. He had picked up his pace, throwing Shouta a bit off balance. He leaned down sucking and biting at your neck while rolling your perky nipple. Shouta felt your velvety walls clamp down around his cock, picking up his tempo to match Hizashi’s.

By now you were a mess. Traitorous moans fumbling from your mouth as the two heroes played your body. They had picked up an alternating tempo, never leaving you without a cock inside your body. The pleasure had you throwing your head back, leaving your neck exposed and making room for Shouta to join Hizashi in leaving little claiming bites all along your delicate skin. 

“She’s getting close Hizashi, we’re gonna fuck her through it alright?”

The blond pro behind you only moaned out something that sounded vaguely affirmative, eager to feel your tight walls clamp down on him. 

You were beyond fighting them, on the brink of orgasm all it took was one pointed thrust from Shouta to have you crumbling apart. You pushed back into Hizashi’s chest, his t-shirt sticking to your sweat soaked skin as you clamped down on both of them. Hizashi moaned into your neck, his quirk picking up a bit as he lost his composure. Shouta had released your hands, ripping off your gag so he could grab your face and crash his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as your newly freed hands grabbed fist fulls of his shirt to stabilize yourself. 

As stated they continued fucking into you, dragging out your orgasm as your walls spasmed around them. Shouta’s tongue delved into your mouth, his own deep moans rumbling into you. 

“Go-gonna fuckin’ cum Sho, n- not much longer.”

In response Eraserhead reached behind you, grabbing a fist full of the blonds hair and giving it a firm tug which was enough to push him over the edge. 

“Sh-shit,” he wheezed, hips stilling as his cum filled your sore ass. “You fu- you fucking dirty cheater makin’ me finish first like that.” In kind Hizashi grabbed some of Shouta’s hair, pulling his mouth away from yours and up to his own. 

“Go ahead and cum in her Sho you know you want to,” Hizashi taunted between kisses. The familiar sound of metal against concrete drew your gaze as the all too familiar symbol of peace stood at his full height. Holy fucking shit it was All Might. 

The two pros ignored his approach, Shouta’s hips becoming a bit more deranged as he fucked into you. All Might reached in between the two and gripped your lower jaw, dazzling smile almost blinding you.

“Be a good girl now and open for me, you don’t have to swallow it all but I’d appreciate the effort.” He didn’t leave you with much of a choice finding it impossible to close your mouth with his grip, which at this point was very sore from the gag. The tip of his large member gently brushed against your lips as he shuttered at the feeling of your soft flesh. 

By this point Shouta was thrusting aggressively against your battered cervix, mouth locked with Hizahi’s as he finally reached his own release. His hips stuttered as warmth filled your cunt. 

Now all that was left was All Might. Your jaw strained to accommodate him, but he seemed to be more than aware of your limitations. He simply pushed the tip in, one hand stroking his shaft while the other gently pet your head. 

“So pretty,” he cooed down at you. “Just like that princess, I’m gonna cum now okay?” 

You simply kept your mouth open, tongue flat against the underside of his still cock as his cum filled your mouth. The bitter taste made you sputter, cum running down your chin as more took its place. After a couple more spurts he gently pulled away, some of the bitter substance sliding down your throat while the majority ended up down your chin and onto the couch below. 

All four of you were panting, frozen in time until finally All Might disappeared in a large cloud of smoke. The man you had originally believed to be some unknown hero named Toshinori now stood in his place, shyly looking down at you. 

“I guess that’s one way to show her huh big guy.” Hizashi jested. 

“I-I know probably not the most ideal but I couldn’t help myself,” he murmured a bit embarrassed. 

Hizashi and Shouta pulled out, their cum immediately running down your legs causing you to cringe a bit at the sensation. 

“You guys.. fucking suck.” was all you could think of at the moment. You waited for the rage, for them to berate or attack you, but instead all that met you was a chorus of soft chuckles.

“Figured you wouldn’t be easy to convince kitten, but don’t worry. Between the three of us you’ll come around.” 

These three men must have some thick fucking skulls to dismiss you so casually, that or their obsession was a lot deeper than you could even begin to comprehend. 

“Some fucking heroes you are,” you grumbled lowly.

“Some fuckin’ heroes we are indeed cutie! HAH get it? Cause we just fucked yah?” Hizashi laughed at his own joke while Toshinori and Shouta groaned. 

“Alright don’t make me gag you next, let’s just get everybody upstairs and clean up. We’ll do the house tour later kitten, for now we’ll just show you to your room.” 

[mrsnegan]

hey beautiful! loving all your writing! and was wondering if you’d do a request with the reader having Negan as her neighbor and he gets jealous when her guy friend comes over instead of him

[Hi there! So, so sorry it took me this long to write your request. But here it finally is, another smut fest, I just can't help myself. 😅]

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, rough sex, jealousy, oral sex (f receiving), bodily fluids, squirting, aftercare

Moving into a new neighborhood always felt weird. Getting used to a new surrounding, meeting neighbors and hoping they would be kind of alright was a pain in your ass. You hated those situations. But meeting Negan, your neighbor of two years by now, was the most cool thing ever. He was a real sweetheart with a sailor's mouth, ready to help whenever there was a problem, ready to party whenever there was an invitation. Even if he was eye candy as well, a real flirt at times, you didn't consider him as an option, more as a friend, a life long partner in crime.

Negan, on the other hand and unbeknownst to you, did definitely have interest in more than harmless teasing. He liked you - a lot. Though he would never pressure you into anything, would never make a move without any signal from your side, because he cherished your friendship as much as you did and respected the hell out of you. Little did he know that a mysterious male guest of yours would shake up his whole resolution, unleashing something primal and urging inside of him.

---

You stood in front of the oven, the lasagna smelling delicious and nearly ready to eat. Paul, your friend from work, would ring at any minute. He was a nice guy, helping you out with a big project. In return, you invited him for dinner to thank him for all the effort. This wasn't a date though, Paul was gay 100 percent, the coolest dude in your opinion. He dated an Italian barkeeper who was at work right now, so it would only be the two of you. Either way, you looked forward to a chatty evening with good food, lots of wine and laughter.

Your doorbell rang some moments later and you opened it with a bright smile.

"Hi Paul, come in!"

"Hi there! Thank you so much for the invitation, Y/N!" he beamed, handing you two bottles of wine.

The two of you entered your kitchen, preparing the rest of the dinner together. It was such a relaxing atmosphere, you had missed nights like this.

The lasagna tasted as delicious as it smelled and the first bottle of wine was empty much sooner than you thought. Paul and you talked about work, life, love and everything in between. You felt at ease, happy to the core. The second bottle was opened a few moments later and both of you decided to enjoy the nice weather in your little garden.

"Hey, who's this?" Paul asked, head pointing towards Negan's property. You could see him standing on his terrace, looking straight at the both of you.

"My neighbor and friend Negan", you answered and waved with a big smile. To your surprise, he just looked straight ahead, turning on his heels to get inside.

"What the fuck was that?" you asked perplexed.

"Uh, honey, sorry to break the news, but he seemed to be severely pissed about your male company."

"Huh? That's...why should he?"

Paul looked at me with his eyebrow raised, his glass of wine still in his hand.

"He's some nice piece of ass, at least from what I could make out. And honey, let me tell you, he's jealous because I'm enjoying your presence, not him. He's definitely hot for you."

You laughed loudly at his explanation, shaking your head in disbelief.

"No, he isn't. We're just friends."

"Y/N, for real, I know how a jealous man looks and he definitely wants you all to himself. I'd suggest you get your beautiful ass over there and get banged real good. Because jealous men are such a turn-on and won't keep their hands off of you."

Despite knowing Paul for a long time, you clasped your hand over your mouth.

"He's my friend..."

"So you keep saying. What's wrong about friends with benefits? You absolutely deserve a good time. And he looks like a real snack", he winked, drowning his wine and getting up.

"Besides, I need to get home, it's late. I will get myself an Uber. Don't you worry your pretty little head, just get over there for your dessert."

You said goodbye at your front door half an hour later. While you watched Paul drive away, your heart kept beating faster and faster. Your feet carried you to your kitchen where you drowned another glass of wine. Was it possible what Paul had said? Was Negan jealous? Deep within you there definitely was a spark you felt, a pull towards Negan. He was handsome and funny, that much was true, though before Paul's suggestion you hadn't seen Negan in this kind of light. And since it had been spoken out, you couldn't stop thinking about what his lips might taste on you, what he might feel pressed between your legs.

You gulped audibly, not believing your own thoughts. Blaming the wine for your inappropriate thoughts seemed too easy, but admitting you were attracted to your neighbor was too difficult too. Sighing, you pulled your cardigan over your shoulders, grabbed your keys and went to his front door. The wine gave you the much needed confidence to do so, but your heart hammered in your chest nonetheless. What if you would destroy your friendship with this stupid little action? What if Paul was wrong? But you had to take the risk or you wouldn't sleep at all at night, laying awake with the punishing thoughts of what if.

The door bell rang in your ear louder than you remembered. Your palms were sweaty, so you tried to anchor yourself on your cardigan, hugging yourself tightly.

When Negan opened the door, he looked pissed to say the least.

"Hey", you said timidly.

"Hey", he answered without the warmth in his voice you were used to.

"Can I come in?"

"Why would you want to? You do have company, don't you?"

With a dry mouth you shook your head. "He went home."

"Asshat", he mumbled and you raised a brow.

"Negan, we need to talk."

"About what? I think it's more than fucking clear. Have a good night", he said, motioning to close the door in front of you, but you pushed yourself against it.

"He's gay", you told him, letting him stop in his tracks.

"What?"

"Paul, my visitor. He's gay. He's one of my colleagues and a good friend. This was a thank you dinner because he helped me out at work", you explained even if you didn't have to.

Negan pinched the bridge of his nose, opening the door wider, so you could slip inside.

Both of you stood awkwardly in front of each other, just staring at your shoes.

"Look, Paul said you would be...jealous. Are you?"

You heard Negan huff before you risked a look into his face. He looked troubled, as if he calculated the pros and cons of his next words.

"Fucking shit, Y/N, yeah, I'm jealous. You satisfied now?"

"No", you answered truthfully, risking everything with your next move. You closed the distance between the both of you, getting on your tiptoes to press a fleeting kiss against his lips. You pulled back as fast as you had kissed him, adrenaline driving through your veins.

Negan's growl surprised you, he was on you in an instant, pressing you against his door, his lips colliding with yours. The heat radiating from your bodies made you feel dizzy, his hands held your face tightly while he devoured your mouth with passion. He deepened the kiss as his body pressed itself against you, grinding where you ached the most. Your hands grabbed his strong frame for support, the moan into his mouth made him stop, pulling away a bit to catch his breath and also look into your eyes.

"Damn, baby, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this."

The groan leaving your lips spurred him on, moving his center against your trembling body in a nice rhythm.

"Shit, I...I had no idea."

"You surely didn't. Such a sweet, innocent girl. You wanna continue?"

He stopped all at once, earning a desperate whine from you.

"Y-yes, please Negan."

That damn grin of his made your knees buckle. He was so hot and he clearly wanted you. Thanking Paul silently for speaking his mind and Negan for his jealousy, you made the next step by pushing his shirt up, revealing his lean stomach to your hungry eyes.

He just smirked down at you, helping you out by pulling his shirt over his head. You admired his tattoos for a while, tracing them lightly with your fingers. He caught your hands in his, kissing your fingertips before he let go to slip your cardigan over your shoulders before he open button after button of your silky blouse, revealing more and more skin as well as your bra.

"Hot damn", he mumbled when he had freed you from your blouse, starring blatantly at your cleavage.

"I wanna worship every part of that hot body before I fuck you senseless."

Moaning at the prospect of getting laid by Negan, your hands found a home on his chest again.

"You...you don't need to be...you know...gentle with me, at least not this time." You bit your lip at your own forwardness. This was definitely the wine speaking. Your panties were wet the minute he had attacked your mouth and edging was the last thing you needed right now.

"Oh baby, you're full of surprises. The next time, huh? You sure?" Negan played with one of your locks, scanning your face for any second thoughts.

"Yes", you whispered.

He was on you in an instant, his hands on your ass, pushing you against him before he lifted you off the ground to carry you to the living room.

He sat you down on his dining table where the cold wooden surface made you gasp.

"I would carry you into the bedroom...but I think that's something for the next time", he winked, pushing up your skirt and slipping off your shoes. "I need to have a taste right now."

He surprised you yet again by dropping to his knees. Your panties, soaked as they were, were gone in an instant and his impatient mouth closed around your center.

You jumped at the sudden pleasure, too much too soon. Your hands wandered into his hair, desperate to push him away and to keep him there at the same time. The moans leaving your lips sounded like they were coming from someone else. He ate you out with passion, the slurping sounds so foreign to your ears that you turned a light shade of red. But he seemed to enjoy himself, biting down gently on your clit.

"Whose pussy is this?" he asked against your wet flesh, his breath on your lower lips driving you insane. You couldn't form a sentence, earning a light slap against your inner thigh.

"I asked you a question, baby. Whose pussy is this?"

"Y-yours", you moaned, you answer accompanied by his fingers rubbing over your folds.

"Yeah, that's right, mine alone", he mused, closing his lips around your clit again while two of his fingers entered your slick channel. He fucked into you with precision, driving you to your breaking point in no time. You came against his mouth and around his fingers screaming his name.

"So beautiful. Better than I could have ever imagined", he mused, looking up at your face. "I could do that all night. But you didn't ask for gentle, did you?"

There were no words with which you could respond, your orgasm had made you feel like jelly, absolutely unable to do anything than breathe.

You heard Negan's belt come undone and the zipper of his jeans. With the little strength you had left, you lifted your head to look at him. The sight you were greeted with drove another moan out of your mouth. Negan stood in front of you, cock in hand, stroking it languidly while his gaze was fixed on your wet center.

"You like what you see?", he asked, smiling warmly with a hint of mischief in it.

"Yes", you whimpered.

He came nearer, pushing the head of his cock between your soaked pussy lips.

"Fuck...", you uttered, over-sensitive but so damn horny for him nonetheless, despite the earth-shattering orgasm he had gifted you with.

"Patience, baby. Gonna fuck you so good, don't you worry", he mused, concentrating his movements on your clit. You jerked under him, the pleasure rapidly building and as he rubbed himself harder against you, you came again.

"Shit, would you look at that? You like my cock that damn much, don't you?"

As hot as his dirty mouth was, you wanted to feel him, finally. So you pushed your arms up and around his head to pull him down for a longing kiss. Just as his tongue sloppily played with yours, he entered you in one swift motion, setting a fast pace from the beginning.

The moans and groans you shared echoed through his house, the wood underneath you creaked with every movement. This was precisely what you had asked for, a good, hard, passionate fuck, something primal to get rid of all the tension. He fucked you harder still, looking down at you with furrowed brows. His right hand pulled your bra down to bare your bouncing breasts to his heated gaze while you tried to anchor yourself underneath his punishing thrusts. You hadn't been fucked like this in a long, long time, nearly forgetting how much you liked to be taken, to be claimed. And Negan was just perfect at fulfilling your fantasies, his cock feeling incredible.

"Baby...", he purred when he watched you play with your nipples, throwing your head back in the process.

There was something building inside of you again, much stronger than before. Your moans got louder in the process.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't...", you chanted repeatedly, while Negan fucked you hard, his hand coming down between your legs to flick your clit roughly with his thumb. The walls came crashing down for you, your orgasm roared through your body, wave after wave of pure bliss, so much so that Negan had to pull out to make room for you to squirt all over his cock.

He practically roared at the sight in front of him, jerking himself off furiously and shooting his load against your sodden pussy.

Both of you panted heavily while coming down from such an exquisite high. After a while, Negan helped you out of your skirt and bra which were still dangling on your sweaty body and carried you upstairs to the shower. Underneath his big shower head, you pulled him against you, still with shaking legs, but happy, so damn happy.

"Thank you for being jealous", you said giggling against his strong frame.

"No worries, baby, I still am. You're mine now."

You laughed at his comment, even if you knew he was honest with his statement. The kiss that followed was sweet, a nice contrast to your rough coupling some minutes ago.

"But honestly, I would love to invite you for dinner, have a proper date if you would like to", Negan suggested, his hands drawing lazy circles on your back.

"I would absolutely love to", you answered, peppering his chest with light kisses.

---

Taglist: @iluvneganandjamie @murphslass @negans-attagirl @you-a-southpaw-doll

[thedevillionaire]

The Twentieth

Okay. ~5,000 words of Underworldian stuff that happens. Well, primarily one thing, really, but not all at the same time. Sort of. Ask me anything, thank you so very much for reading, and...well, here we go.

--- This was not at all how he’d planned for the day of their anniversary to unfold.

In the back of his mind, in corners he’d quite deliberately not lingered for a moment longer than absolutely necessary, he’d known that trouble was possibly oncoming as early as the night before last, the descending fog of nascent illness as recognisable as it was unwelcome. But it had been…at least a year, perhaps close to two, since he’d last felt this way, and he was hoping that he was wrong, and that what were seeming like potential signs of bad news weren’t actually signs at all.

They were.

Cerberus sniffled.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. He’d tried, he really had. Discounting those signs as unimportant even as he took precautions because of them, he’d risked nothing, pushed his luck with nothing. He’d even gone to bed several hours earlier than usual last night, and fallen asleep almost immediately on top of that. Unlike his bonded, who’d had a late night and come home at some uncertain hour from one of those social catch-up things she so enjoyed that he was…less inclined towards, even in times when he was feeling entirely well – not that he’d given that as the reason for his disinclination to participate, of course.

Hardly relevant, anyway.

And he’d slept soundly enough that he’d not woken to notice her join him – in fact, he’d been so sapped of energy that from the moment the warmth of the hearth and bedcovers enveloped him, he was out – which just made it all the more ominous that he’d woken feeling like he’d got no rest at all, bone-tired as if no respite had been granted, with a constant, dull headache that so far had refused to resolve, and yesterday’s mild discomfort at the back of his throat sharpening significantly into an active and intrusive concern.

Getting caught in that ridiculous downpour on the way here wouldn’t have helped matters either, he thought bitterly. Although brief, it had been intense, and sudden, and heavy, and though the mercy of Teleport could not have been a more welcome escape, the short time spent in headblurry indecision about whether or not he should utilise it had nonetheless been long enough that his coat had been soaked through. The refuge of the radiant heat of his Office was helping somewhat, at least, and most of his clothing had dried by now – though his hair, which he’d tied back with a loose bow of slender black velvet ribbon to keep errant strands from his face, was still noticeably and uncomfortably damp against his neck. Less so than had he left it unbound, but still…

If he’d ever regretted choosing to walk rather than taking the lazy option before – gods, the damn irony of thinking that the walk would possibly benefit him tonight, of all things – he was sure he’d not regretted it as much as he did right now.

He sniffled again.

Fuck.

---

Closing the folder of Requiem’s surprisingly competently done assignment, he sighed and added it to the small stack of completed works, vaguely wondering if he’d been too generous with the grading. Although he knew the content backwards and could in fact get away with paying very little serious attention, his mind was nevertheless, for the most part, almost entirely on other things.

This was supposed to be the night where, once respective regular mundanities and commitments were out of the way, he would take his beloved to indulge in whichever of the things she most loved to indulge in while on a Visit, utterly at her behest, and completely guilt-free for her with no mandated set goal to achieve, no limitations on immersion, no regulations at all; just an unscheduled and spontaneous trip to the mortal plane, a high-end cocktail bar all dress codes and decadence, and a veritable array of delicious, oblivious Takings there for her pleasure – ahh, darkling, a smorgasbord! – all eyes upon her because nobody, not in the Underworld and certainly no mortal, can compare, and despite his usual personal antipathy towards bothering with the mortal realm, he knew of certain excellences all the same, and he’d put his own preferences aside and simply present her with the glories and spoils she deserved, watch her dance from the shadows and delight in it.

Darkling, I will give you the world.

He’d had every intention of doing precisely that.

And it was also really starting to feel like he was definitely not going to…not going to let this happen, damn it. You’ll be fine, stop putting unnecessary emphasis on transient discomfort, it’s nothing, you know these things pass, just…

He sniffled again, more sharply this time, claimed another tissue and blew his nose, trying to disregard how doing so did nothing much to stop the continuing drip and irritation.

Just get on with it. Honestly. Vaporising the tissue, he took another sip of the honeyed tea that wasn’t doing nearly as much to counteract the sting in his throat as he’d hoped it would, and returned his attention to the job at hand. He noted with distaste as he opened the new folder that yet again it seemed that Hellion hadn’t bothered to proofread the simplest of…

Oh gods.

His breath caught, thoughts ceased, focus helplessly crumbling.

“Hh-hh…”

He rolled his eyes at the inevitability of it, and grabbed another tissue, and another, as the insistent need made itself unstoppably and urgently known.

“Hh-TSCHH-uu! *snff!* Huh-TSSCHH-uu!”

Therion, across the room and in the midst of cataloguing a stupidly confusing array of recently rediscovered and yet unsorted secondgen scrolls, glanced back over his shoulder at Cerberus briefly. “Gesundheit,” he commented offhand, not remotely surprised by this development. Given the constant sniffling that had been going on for the last couple of hours or so, he’d pretty much been expecting that to happen sooner or later. No matter how infrequently the Demon king may catch cold, symptoms were symptoms. Sounding like shit there, boss, he thought, but decided against voicing it.

Cerberus managed a quick thankyou before the demanding urge once again overtook him, and he inhaled deeply, desperately, the force of the sneeze almost doubling him over.

“hhh-AHHTSSCHHUU!”

Therion glanced over again. “You okay, man?”

Cerberus, with a strong sniffle, cleared his throat and made an incidental sound of dismissal. “Mm, fine,” he murmured, which he knew at this point was a complete lie, his head pounding. “Pardon me.” He blew his nose, sniffling again immediately. Ugh. “It’s, um…it’s nothing.”

He returned his attention to Hellion’s paper.

It was, however, no matter his assurance, becoming undeniably something.

Fuck.

---

The hours had somehow simultaneously dragged and flown by, some goals achieved, others – and, to be honest, the ones he’d most been counting on – unfortunately not so.

Cerberus sighed heavily, put aside the last of the assignments he’d reviewed, and, having had quite enough of honeyed tea for one day, poured himself a substantial glass of cognac from the decanter on his desk.

On the plus side, he’d got through a decent amount of the papers, all things considered. On the minus, though, his oncoming cold, rather than resolving into the insignificance he’d hoped for, had instead settled in undeniably, pouring into his head like cement, and he pressed the back of his hand firmly against his nose with enough force for pain to overtake irritation. He vaporised yet another bunch of used tissues, sniffling again, and tried to take his mind off Kia and what she might be thinking, expecting, dreaming, anticipating…

..and what he feared he was not going be able to deliver.

Acceptance of such, however, was still not something he was willing to entertain quite yet.

Damn it, it’s one night. Surely you can at least delay this ridiculousness for one more night. With a lengthy, determined sniffle and heavy exhalation, Cerberus, elbow on desk and hand against forehead, lost himself in a mix of annoyance and self-pity for a moment before an intense rising fury at the situation overtook it, and he frowned, sat up straighter, and drained the glass of cognac entirely.

Do. Better.

With a brief shake of his head, he rubbed his nose and opened the next assignment in the pile, read the name. Ah, Cenotaph, he noted with a slight satisfaction. Shouldn’t be dreadful. Although he nearly always…

His thoughts were jarringly interrupted by the intrusive ring of the telephone, and despite him dearly wishing he could palm this off to Therion, the phone was on the desk, and proximity demanded he be the one to answer. And to make matters worse – apparently that’s possible, and of course it is – he could feel the rising, inexorable need to sneeze again.

No. This is not happening. Just… The idea of being defeated by such a simple, base physical weakness infuriating, he sniffled with sharp determination, crushing a hand clutching a tissue against his nose, and answered the call.

“Demonics.”

Aera took a moment. “Cerbie? Okay, wow. What are you doing in Office?”

I…work here? Cerberus couldn’t quite parse what her intention was, what sort of answer she was expecting. Was that rhetorical, or…? “I don’t… What do you…” He sniffled again, his breath catching momentarily, but he fought the urge back once more, and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. “What?”

“‘Debodics’,” Aera said in mimicry of the congestion destroying his consonants, her tone flippant and biting at the same time.

Frowning in annoyance, his patience worn thin enough as it was, and in no mood to engage, Cerberus snarled a curt, “I’m fine,” and wiped his nose.

Aera scoffed. “You’re seriously going the denial route? Hate to break it to you, but you sure don’t sound fine.”

“Do you have a point?” Cerberus asked tersely, internally cursing his inability to comprehensively prove her wrong – not that she was necessarily wrong, but that was hardly the issue.

“Godssake, Cerbie, you’re such a…” Aera began, but recognised she was probably wasting her time and decided to just let it go. She knew his pattern with this sort of thing, and so she backed off a little – though by no means completely. “Okay, fine, alright, I could be wrong, maybe you’re not sick after all. So, you know, if you’ve been crying or punched in the face or something, go right ahead and clear that up for me.”

Cerberus, exasperated and increasingly distracted, just wanted an end to it all. “Damn it, Aera, can you please try to tear yourself away from the apparently fascinating state of my health for a moment and just tell me what the hell it is you want? *snf!* And you could be a bit more pleasant to me, you know,” he added pointedly. “It is my anniversary, after all.”

Aera gasped lightly in realisation, the date having escaped her notice completely. “Oh, shit, it is too! Ah, fuck, sorry, happy anniversary. But, no, anyway, this call does actually have a point. I think I might have left a scarf in your Office yesterday. Do you have it? It’s blue.”

You couldn’t have just asked that immediately? Cerberus glanced around the Office perfunctorily, not seeing anything of the kind. “N…” His breath caught again and he scrubbed his hand roughly under his nose, sniffling sharply, and took a moment before trusting himself enough to answer her. “No.”

“Really? What the hell have I done with it, then?” Aera wondered, partially to Cerberus but mostly to herself, before returning her attention to the conversation at hand. “Oh, and bless you.”

“What?” Cerberus frowned in confusion, his head clouded enough that he wasn’t entirely certain that he hadn’t missed or forgotten something that surely he ought not to have been able to miss or forget. “I…I didn’t sneeze.” It was…inescapably true that he needed to, but he’d not…

Aera chuckled briefly, quietly. “You will.”

She hung up.

The freedom afforded him by that disconnection, one staggered, desperate inhale was all it took. And in the moment, he didn’t even care that she’d been right. At this point he just wanted relief.

“hh-HH… Ahh-HEHTSSHhuu!”

“Gesundheit,” said Therion again, smiling grimly to himself. He usually minded his own business about this sort of thing – not that it came up much – and indeed still considered staying out of it altogether now. But he hadn’t known about the anniversary factor before, and playing substitute Leader for a few days was hardly the worst fate in the world, and if not tonight it was almost certainly going to come to that fate soon enough anyway, so…

He put the scrolls aside, walking over to stand opposite where Cerberus was seated at the desk. “Hey, man…”

“Huh-AHSSCHuu! *snf!*” Cerberus groaned. “Gods. Excuse me,” he murmured with a heavy sigh, his head and sinuses throbbing. He sniffled wetly, blew his nose, excused himself again, and looked up at Therion somewhat hazily. “Mm?”

Therion half-smiled, casual, non-committal. “Happy anniversary, dude. Didn’t mean to listen in or anything, just…you know. Overheard.”

A small smile of appreciative thanks crossing his face, Cerberus sniffled again and nodded in otherwise silent acknowledgement.

“Just a thought, though,” Therion continued. “If I had a choice between going home to my mad-hot bonded… How many years now, man?”

A heartbeat. An eternity.

“Twenty.”

“Fucking what?!” Therion stared at Cerberus as if he was out of his mind. “Fuck, man! Congrats and shit, but for real? If I had a choice between going home, like, immediately or staying in Office for a few more hours marking shit I could pretty easily get my Understudy to do, actually? I’d be out of here in a fucking microsecond. But, you know, you’re the boss, man. Do whatever. Just saying.” Reaching across the desk, he picked up Cenotaph’s paper and scanned its contents quickly. “I mean, this looks pretty good, I guess, but, you know, Kia probably looks better.” He grinned as Cerberus gave a dark smile in response, and paused only for a short time, but enough that the pause be noted. “Seriously. You know she’d spoil the fuck out of you.”

Cerberus sighed again, regret, bitterness and castigating self-reproach evident in his eyes beneath a haze of sickness he really could no longer deny. Yes, I know, of course I know, but... “The spoiling really was suppo… hh-HH…” He hastily took another few tissues from the box, burying his face in them just in time to catch another fierce sneeze he had no chance of stopping. “AHHTSCHUU! Goddamnit. Pardon me.” He wiped his nose, sniffling again immediately – disturbingly liquid, entirely ineffectual, and with a weariness behind it that he could not disguise. Looking back up at Therion, he returned to his point. “I’d really intended the providing of spoils to be my job tonight. And this…utter ridiculousness—” He made a vague gesture towards his face. “—was supposed to have improved, not worsened, damn it.”

With another heavy sigh, disappointment palpable, he capitulated. “I don’t suppose you keep any cold medication in Office, do you?”

“Sorry.” Therion shook his head. “Go the fuck home, man. I got this.”

Standing, Cerberus nodded briefly in reply, giving Therion a firm pat on the shoulder as he passed by. “Thank you,” he said quietly, and vanished.

---

And naturally half the damn Underworld seems to be here.

Well, he most certainly was not going to queue.

Ignoring the mixture of hushed mutterings and soft gasps from the others in the Healing centre – none of whom he recognised but it was evident from the expressions on the faces of the…many people staring at him that the reverse was not the case – Cerberus walked to the front of the line with only the most cursory of glances at those who he had no intention of waiting either for or behind, greeted Riviera at the front desk perfunctorily and, abruptly beyond caring to hear any more of the continuing intrusive sussurance, froze the entirety of the waiting room’s occupants under Stasis with a crisp wave of his hand.

Dear gods, shut up. I will set you all on fire and I won’t regret it for a second.

He sniffled strongly. “Aldiss, please,” he said to Riviera, who had already Mindsent the Healing Leader in anticipation of precisely that directive.

“On her way,” Riviera replied. She indicated the Stasis-held others. “Um, is that…are they…?”

“Entirely temporary, just expedient. I’ll undo it soon enough.”

Aldiss appeared beside Riviera at the desk, Mindsending her :Cover me for a bit. Room 5, burns, not serious, mostly dealt with already,: and Riviera duly vanished.

At a loss and clearly awaiting clarification, Aldiss turned her attention to Cerberus. “Alright, what are you doing here?”

Cerberus frowned. Why is everywhere I am apparently a surprise tonight? “I’m ill, obviously. Why else would I be here? I need cold medication.” He sniffled again, as if in emphasis, though not intentionally so, and wiped his nose.

“Again? Already?”

Again? There IS no again. I literally just got here. What the hell is going on? Cerberus briefly wondered if he could be hallucinating this entire sequence of events, so little of it seemed to make any coherent sense. “What do you mean ‘already’?” He winced as his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, which did little more than cause him a different kind of discomfort, a convulsive cough following in short order, his nose running again as a result. He sniffled sharply, repeatedly. Gods. For fuck’s sake. “Excuse me.”

“I’m not giving you anything more if you’ve taken the other lot already.”

“Damn it, Aldiss, do I sound like I’ve taken anything?!”

Aldiss did have to concede that point.

Thoroughly exasperated, Cerberus exhaled heavily in annoyance. “Why is everything always such an ordeal in this place?” And suddenly another strangeness occurred to him. “Wait – what other lot?

“The meds Kia picked up, obviously.”

“What?!” Cerberus, a fresh fear striking him – one he was entirely unprepared for, one that actually managed to distract him from his own discomforts for a moment – stared at Aldiss in unconcealed horror. “Kia’s unwell?!”

With a wry smile, Aldiss shook her head. “I swear I never personally get to experience it, but rumour has it you’re actually quite a clever man, Cerberus, so try and stay with me here, alright?” She looked at him with a certain sardonic encouragement. “The meds Kia picked up for you.”

Unfortunately, this didn’t make much more sense to him, if at all. “But what reason would…” He sniffled again. “Why would she do that?” He rubbed and wrinkled his nose against a building itch, took a tissue from the box on the desk, then another, and tried to stay focused.

Aldiss, in mildly amused bafflement that he could actually be this oblivious, stared at the Demon king as if he was a complete imbecile. “Because you’ve got a cold?”

Annoyance clearly evident despite the hitch in his breath, Cerberus frowned at her. “Yes, Aldiss, we’ve established that, but Ki…Kia doesn’t…” Ah, fuck. Bringing the tissues to his face as the itch became sharply definite, he turned away hurriedly. “Huh-ATSSCHH-uu!” He groaned, sniffling immediately, the force of the sneeze bringing to the fore anew the pulsing headache he’d almost, almostbeen able to forget, his breath still a little shaky as he excused himself. He claimed another tissue and wiped his nose, sniffling again, and took a moment before returning to his earlier point. “Kia doesn’t know about *snf!* this yet.”

“Yes, she most certainly does,” Aldiss countered. “What, you didn’t think she’d notice?”

“Well, of course she’d notice now, damn it, Aldiss,” said Cerberus in open irritation, “but I wasn’t nearly this…”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Cerberus. How long have you been together?”

“As it happens, it’s our twentieth anniversary tonight,” Cerberus replied, a bitter and rueful undertone unmissable despite increasing congestion, “which I am attempting not to completely ruin.” Another sharp sniffle. “Apparently a futile pursuit,” he muttered resentfully, and pressed the back of his hand against his nose in an attempt to see off a newly threatening, vibrantly insistent itch.

“Twenty years and you think she’d miss a thing? She knows you. She knows you really well. How do you not…”

“Ahh-HEHTSSHhuu!”

Aldiss sighed as Cerberus, thoroughly losing the battle, sneezed again, wetly and powerfully, and she passed him a handful of tissues as he murmured both an apology and a thankyou. Looking out at the significant number of people yet to be seen, she allowed him some necessary moments of recovery, then made her point. “Listen, I’m sorry you’ve managed to catch cold for your anniversary but you do have both medication and a devoted bonded waiting at home. Please go there. Kia’s probably wondering where the hell you are anyway, since – if I can I remind you – she knows you’re sick. Oh, and you can undo your…stopping people in time thing or whatever it is now, too, thank you very much.”

“As always, Aldiss, it’s been a delight.” Releasing his Stasis hold with a short wave, the murmurs and mutterings picking up precisely where they’d been cut off as if there had never been a break, Cerberus turned his gaze briefly upon his unbidden rapt audience, disregarded them all equally, internally cursed himself for having even bothered to come to this ridiculous place, inclined his head in crisp farewell, and promptly vanished.

---

Leaning back against the loungeroom wall in weary resignation upon his Teleported arrival home, Cerberus stopped still, his attentions resolutely redirected in an instant at the entirely unexpected sight of his beautiful lifebonded reclining languorously across the couch, dressed – or almost dressed, it could technically be said – in diaphanous babydoll chemise and finest lace lingerie, soft brunette darkestness falling silkenwild around her shoulders, a vision of breathtaking boudoir fantasy he was quite thoroughly unprepared for, and he paused for a moment to simply gaze at her, enchanted.

:Darkling, you are perfection.:

Kia looked up slowly, and with a sultry, indulgent smile, dropped her book onto the coffee table and stretched before sitting up just a little, beckoning him to join her with crooked finger and open invitation.

“Took your time, sweetheart,” she said, gently teasing, and opened the bottle of cognac, pouring a glass for them both. “I’d almost decided to start without you.”

“Love, I…” Cerberus began but was torn from his words unstoppably, unable to do anything about the sudden, desperate need overtaking him, and, expression crumpling and focus destroyed, he had no choice but to give in to it. “Huh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-HEHTSCHuu!” He pardoned himself with haste, groaning quietly.

“Aw, bless you, hon. Come here.” Kia repeated her beckoning motion. She regarded him a moment, frowning in puzzlement. “Where’s your coat?” She’d not seen him leave the house this morning, but she was entirely certain he’d have worn one.

“Hmm? Oh, um…” Cerberus sniffled, wiped his nose and glanced down at himself, not having given any particular thought to his outfit – his standard fine linen shirt, brocade waistcoat, tailored black pants – since leaving Office.

Which was, of course, where he’d left his coat.

“Got rained on. Earlier, that is, not… A while ago, anyhow.” He sniffled again and tried to focus. “In Office. The coat, I mean, not where the…rain was.” He sighed in exasperation as anger at the situation overtook tiredness again. “Honestly, it would be nice if I could at least form a damn sentence!” Gods, what the hell is wrong with you. Get your damn shit together. “Sorry, love. I, um…used Teleport after that, though, so I’ve not really been outside since.”

“Well, coat or not, you were supposed to have given up and come home ages ago.” Kia laughed gently. “You know, like a normal person. Why are you always so stubborn about this stuff?” She caressed his face affectionately as he sat beside her, curled an arm around the back of his neck, and kissed him with warm promise. :And don’t you even dare say a word about not wanting to give your cold to me,: she Mindsent preemptively. :Yes, I know, no, I don’t care, and there is no way I’m not kissing you on our twentieth anniversary.:

“Anyway,” she continued in satin murmur, tracing a finger along the angular contours of his jawline and kissing him again, “you know I’ll spoil you.” She looked at him directly then, sapphire eyes narrowing in challenge. “You do know that, right?”

“I…” He did, but between the desire not to need her to – at least not tonight – and rather for him to be, as he’d so very much intended, the one fulfilling any fantasies, and the desire to just try and forget failed plans and expectations and immerse in her…frankly stunning sanctuary, and his head was far too clouded to explain himself right now, and technically he had left Office early anyway so he wasn’t that late really, especially considering he hadn’t realised that he’d been expected, but what did any of this even matter when this goddess before him was so…very… He sniffled again, claiming a tissue and wiping his nose firmly, and wished he was at least a little more functional because she was so incredibly breathtaking, and that was all he could think about in the moment, really, aside from feeling like he was fairly sure he was going to sneeze again – which, when combined with the first and…infinitely preferable reason that he couldn’t think straight, provided a particularly strange contradiction in where his attentions were directed, and now he couldn’t with certainty remember exactly what she’d asked him anymore, and she was just…gods, she was everything, and his head was a mess and he…definitely had to…

He blinked rapidly, his breath hitching in escalating intensity, and turned from Kia to bury his face in crooked elbow. Gods, fuck, just…

“Huh-TSSCHH-uu! Ahh-HUHTSSHhuu!”

The force of the sneezes combined with the pounding throb of sinus-heavy headache to set the room spinning, but despite that had done very little to quiet the insistent irritation he just could not seem to escape tonight. Another staccato breath and fuck ano… hh-HH ..another and a Mindsent apology because he was entirely unable to voice one, doubling over in thrall to desperate demand, powerful, possessing. “Hhuh-AHTSCHUU! Huh…hh-TSSCHH-uu!”

“Oh, sweetheart, bless you.” Kia indicated the medications she’d collected on the table, though she wasn’t sure there was much point, his ability to focus entirely and…mesmerisingly hijacked. “You should probably…”

Cerberus, with a brief shake of his head, held up a finger in a gesture indicating that she had to wait a moment, the relentless need not done with him yet, and he inhaled deeply, unable to do a thing about it other than succumb once more, and he sneezed again – undeniable, absolute, violently ferocious. “Hh-hhAAAHTSSCHHUU! ..uhh…” A quiet groan and he pressed the back of his hand against his nose, sniffling fiercely, more than a little breathless. “Damn. Sorry.”

“Wow, bless you!” Kia said with softriveted, emphatic appraisal, and flashed him a wickedwarm grin. “Impressive. You should get a prize for that kind of effort.”

“Gods, love.” Smiling wryly despite himself, Cerberus managed a brief disbelieving laugh before having no choice but to give in to sharpburning sensation, his breath catching abrupt, deep, jagged, pleading. “hh-h-huh-TSCHH-uu! Huh-TSSCHH-uu! *snf!* Huh… huhhTSSCHHUU! For fuck’s sake! *SNFF!* Ugh, sorry.” Sniffling repeatedly, he excused himself again with clear irritation even as Kia offered him a tender blessing. He took a fresh multitude of tissues from the box and blew his nose, muttering under his breath that in any reasonable world he’d get to kill at least one person over this, and if…

“Oh, look!” announced Kia with cheery brightness, breaking into his thoughts and picking up one of the medication vials. “You win drugs.” She handed the vial to Cerberus with a kiss to his cheek, effectively short-circuiting his rising fury at the situation, and trailed a languid hand down the length of his arm, dropped her voice to a sultry purr. “I’ll even throw in the glamorous assistant.” She semi-curtseyed, winked in play.

With a soft laugh and a sigh both appreciative and self-effacing, Cerberus accepted and took the meds as proffered, curling an arm across Kia’s shoulders, drawing them closer together, and leant his head against hers, Mindsending a heartfelt, sincere :I adore you.:

“I’m so sorry, darkling.” He ran an index finger under his nose, sniffled quietly, exhaled with dismayed heaviness at the thought of having let his beloved down, in any way. “I really did mean to give you everything you desire tonight.” He sat back again; smiled at her, a little sadly. “And I truly do wish to bring you the world you deserve. All the worlds, come to that.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I know. And I know that you’re, like…literally able to do it, which still just amazes me and will forever, I swear, you’re incredible, but…really, you don’t need to be disappointed. See, I want you—” Shifting her position smoothly, Kia moved to sit on his lap, her legs astride his, and caressed his face in her hands, kissing him with passion burning. “Mmm. I want you—” Another kiss. “—to think for just a minute—” And another. “—from a different view.” Reaching behind his head, she untied the velvet ribbon constraining his hair, allowing it in release to cascade over his shoulders. She wove a gentle hand through freed midnight, tucked a few stray strands behind his ear. “If things were reversed, if I was the one who’d come home sick tonight, what would you have done?”

Cerberus chuckled wryly, softly, as he recognised her viewpoint. He didn’t pretend otherwise. “Anything you wanted, love, as always.”

Kia gave him a knowing smile. “Mm-hm.”

Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed him again, slower, deeper. “So, then, babe,” she purred, tracing a trail of kisses down his neck, shoulders, chest, “you should know that you are everything I desire, everything I dream of, and the only way you could ever let me down is to not be with me tonight, and now I am going to order you into the bedroom and you are going to do exactly what I say and that is pretty much what would have happened even with you in perfect health with your perfect plan, because you should know—” She broke off again, kissing him with a craving undeniable, abandoning speech for silksultry Mindsend.

:that all I want:

One hand now twining through his hair, the other first toying with then smoothly untying the topmost bows on her chemise, allowing it to fall away, and she pulled him closer to her again, deepening the kiss at his involuntary resulting moan.

:is…this.:

Another kiss and her hand reaching down, loosening clothing and caressing him to urgency, and he moaned again, curling one arm around her waist and another behind her head, holding her around him and returning her kiss with a fire straight from his soul, feeling her breath quickening, demanding, as she pushed back against him, heat rising. A soft growl, a gasp, a sharp inhalation as they joined together, and she met her beloved’s famed emerald gaze eye to eye, consummate, profligate, incendiary.

“Oh, and sweetheart? Tonight I am going to make you wish you caught cold more often.”

---

[i-may-be-stupit]

Idk the horney got me, so here we are HAHAHAHA 18+ and kinda a bit of crack at times, ENJOY!!!!! Oh! And this is reletively gender neutral, babes!!

Your name is (Y/N) (L/N). And you've always been known as a good kid. That is until your father was murdered by a hero. He did a lot of dirty work, sure, but he did it for his family to survive. And when a hero took him down, everyone cheered. They never though about his family. Nor his place in the world. They saw him as dirt. The same way you started seeing heros.

To you, heros didn't care about the villians and didn't care whether they died or lived. They were savage beasts who needed to be taken down. You became a villian. You would assassinate hero after hero with the simple tittle of "Marrow." And that's when you met the League.

They had the same ideals as you and could help make your dream a reality.

You joined the League, but you were still you. You were a seemingly innocent flower that blossomed in any form of villainous mayhem.

Your quirk was known as simply bone manipulation. You could manipulate your bones however you pleased and you could even shoot them out like needles. But, you were at higher risk for osteoporosis.

Its been 6 months since then and you've made yourself at home with the LOV. Twice and Toga were your closest friends now, but Shigaraki just hits different.

You'd go out and have fun with your two close friends, and to be honest, you're pretty sure that you three had pulled every prank possible on Dabi. Kurogiri was like a dad to you now. He gave lots of great advice and made sure that you kept up with your online college classes in between villian duties.

But shigaraki was a whole other story.

I mean, he was usually crule and hateful towards everyone, but the League was his soft spot. He treats members like family. He cherishes them. Even if he doesn't say it. He almost always have been putting them first.

And it made you kind of...attracted to him.

Yeah, he was dryer than the Saharan Desert, and had a diet of strictly microwavable ramen and redbull, but he was actually a good guy. You caught yourself staring at him a few times per day and your crush on him was appearant to you as well as all the other members.

So here you were, staring in awe at Tomura as he and Dabi played against eachother in Mortal Kombat. (They'd fight at least once a day, so Kurogiri made up the idea of fighting in Mortal combat instead whenever they got fed up with eachother) You blushed, seeing Shigaraki so serious. Ugh, there's just something about him...

Toga walked into the room and sat down in the loveseat next to you. She smirked before loudly announcing, "Gee, (Y/N)! It looks like your boyfriend, Tomura, is winning!" You started choking her.

No, deadass.

You fucking wrapped your hands around her neck and violently shook her head back and forth like Bart and Homer Simpson. Toga just laughed and moaned, causing you to feel too violated to keep choking her. You let go and as you did, Shigaraki stood up and started making fun of Dabi for being a "Bitch ass loser."

You blushed deeply, eyes lidded while gazing at the crusty boy. All you could see was Shigaraki, hearts around him as he did his breathtaking victory dance in slow motion. His gorgeous, dehydrated body swayed and jiggled happily as he jumped a few times, white specs gently fluttered from his head. His dandruff glistening in the florescent lights, as you sighed, absolutely smitten. Dabi rolled his eyes at his boss before looking at you. He then smirked. This cant be good.

Dabi chuckled. "Oh okay, Shiggy, you beat me fair and square." Shigaraki looked at him suspiciously. "It's okay though." He smirked, "Because I'm sure that (Y/N) can give me a little pick-me-up!"

The white haired boy glarred at Dabi then at you. Dabi slyly slipped over to you and Toga. He grabbed you be your wrist and pulled you up to stand. You were too flustered out of your mind to even do anything. He wrapped both of his hands around your waist. "Isn't that right, baby?"

You laughed awkwardly, "Dabi, not to be rude or anything, but you seem like a heavy man and I don't know if I could manage carrying all of your body weight if I were to pick you up, I mean my bones are kinda brittle as they are and-"

He brought his face to yours and kissed your neck softly. "We're gonna have some fun tonight, right?" You fucking hit him with a suplex, a small crack being heard from your hip. God damn it, your fucking brittle ass bones! Everyone burst out in laughter (aside from Kurogiri who was facepalming). Dabi sat on the floor rubbing his head in pain. "Fuck, (Y/N)! It was a joke!"

You folded your arms and frowned. "Well don't joke around with me like that!" Heat rose to your cheeks, "Especially in front of T-Tomura..." You looked at your boss to see him still too busy laughing at Dabi getting backflipped. You smiled shyly, holding your cheeks and wiggling like the love sick shit you are. He's so dreamy~ oh my, is he coughing up blood from laughing too hard?

You looked in disgust for a moment before sighing loudly. Ugh, it's so sexy when he coughs up blood! Shigaraki looked at his hand before licking the blood back into his mouth like a fucking heathen-

Sorry.

Your fucking heathen.

Later that night, everyone was out and about, leaving you and Shigaraki alone. He was drinking a glass of rum and coke as you doodled in a little notebook. You looked up to see him staring at you already. You both quickly looked away. It's been rough lately, dealing with your crush on him.

And Tomura was catching on.

Well, kinda.

He thinks he's really ugly and unworthy of love, so he thinks you just stare at him because you're still taken back at how hideous (he believes) he is. He's been wearing Father on his face more often and been getting more easily upset at you. But, he was also confused because he was starting to like your fragile self.

He's scared that he'll break you with one tap of the finger. That's just how fragile you seem. Shigaraki smiled softly, staring deeply into his glass.

(Y/N) seems so fragile, but they're a god damn hurricane.

Shigaraki swirled his cup around, deep in thought. How can they fight so well when they seem so brittle? It's strange. It's unexpected... It's interesting. Your boss' cheeks turned a tint of pink. (Y/N) can pull off a suplex on Dabi. Their back bent so far... I wonder what (Y/N) looks like arching it for me... He looked over at your figure. You were awkwardly dangling your feet off the couch, seeming to be lost in thought. Tomura sighed and took another whisk of his drink. They're way too cute for me...

There's been a lot of awkward times with you two alone. And you could both feel the tension. Shigaraki left to his room with a small sigh. He hates basically everything. But you? He might just love you.

You two hung out a lot actually. You'd play videogames together and have small movie nights for the two of you. You vividly remembered cuddling up beside him one winter night. It was snowing and you two chatted while sitting on the floor making Smores in the fireplace.

But it got harder and harder to be around eachother when you both started liking eachother. It got...awkward. And the night that Tomura asked you if you wanted to watch a horror movie with you and got a concerned face from you was the night his heart broke. You just didn't want to accidentally grab him at a jumpscare and have him laugh at you for being a pussy. But he thought that you just didnt trust him.

You sighed, thinking about that shitty night, and walked to Shigaraki's room. You had to tell him about your feelings. You knocked softly and was allowed to enter. Shigaraki was sitting in bed, wide awake, just sitting there, staring at the wall in front of him in thought.

You sat awkwardly on his bed in a tense silence for a good minute as the man just stared awkwardly at you through the hand on his face. Shigaraki sighed when he noticed you werent going to say anything, and he set Father down on his nightstand.

"(Y/N), I feel uncomfortable with you staring at me all the time." Heat rushed to your cheeks and you stared harder at the  ground. "I get that I'm ugly, but you should know how rude it is to stare-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" You glarred at him, anger boiling up. "The fuck did you just call yourself?!"

He glarred right back at you. "I said I was ugly, did I stutter?"

Yeah. Youre choosing to ignore that attitude. "Tomura, you're not ugly."

He rolled his eyes. "There is literally no other reason for you to be staring at me that much, mutt."

You folded your arms with a frown. "I think you're handsome."

He laughed.

He laughed hard as hell.

For a good 3 minutes straight.

"Oh thats a good one, (Y/N)! You know, I'm actually enjoying you-"

"I'm serious!" You poked his chest hard while getting closer to his face, your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "I think you have pretty eyes!" You poked him again, "You have a pretty face!" You poked him one last time, "And you're an amazing leader!" Shigaraki went silent with a blush and so did you. You twittled your fingers together, looking away timidly. "I-uh... I think I l-like you, actually."

Tomura chuckled breathlessly with concern for your mental health, eyes darting around uncomfortably. "Are you being...serious...?"

"Mm-hm..."

"Oh....okay." He awkwardly looked away from you with a small blush. Hes never had anyone like him romantically. Actually, not a lot of people even like him generally. And it made it extra weird with you being so damn cute and funny to him. 

You layed down on his bed, anxiety rushing through you. It was weird to tell your boss that you liked him. I mean, its probably gonna be awkward between you two forever! Tomura layed down next to you. His hands overlapping eachother on his chest. You looked over to him with a small awkward smile. "So-uh... do you like me back...?"

Tomura frowned. "Are you fucking dumb??" You winced and he just rolled his eyes. "It would be impossible to not fall in love with you." A small chuckle left your lips as he softly started playing in your (h/t) hair.

You frowned. "Did I say you could touch my hair?"

He rolled his eyes before lifting you up to straddle him. Heat rushed to your cheeks. And you pushed his chest away as your (e/c) eyes darted away. "T-Tomura, what are y-you doing?" You were speechless and flustered. And it wasn't helping that his hands were laying on your waist (pinkies up of course).

Tomura chuckled with a mischevious look in his eyes. He slowly moved his hands up and down your sides. "Let me play with your hair...and as a reward..." He kissed you softly on your lips. "I'll make you feel things you've never felt before...." He licked your ear and you thanked the Lord for that because it just made his mouth a lil less crusty. "Deal?" His breath tickled your ears and your breathing turned into aroused, airy breaths.

"Deal..." Shigaraki smirked before kissing you roughly, his hand engulfed in your (h/t) hair, leaving his middle finger up of course. As his tongue darted around your mouth, he pulled your hair harder, causing a wince of pain from you. His lips left yours quickly.

"Am I being too rough?"

You smiled softly at him. He cares! "Oh, just a little."

Shigaraki grinned before pulling your hair even harder. "You'll get used to that." Your eyes widened in fear and pain as he threw you onto the bed roughly. He kissed you harder, and forced your thighs open with both of his hands, pinkies up.

He laughed with arousal, pressing his clothed member against you. You sighed as he grinded against your bottoms while tongue kissing you. His hands left your thighs and brought themselves to your body. He sucked, kissed, and bit all over your neck and his indexes and thumbs twirled and pulled at your nipples under your shirt.

"Ah-!" You moaned loudly as the man sucked at your soft spot. "T-Tomura!" A small gasp left your lips and his connected to your skin. Mumbled moans came from you, your hand over your mouth. Tomura glarred the second he heard a moan muffled. "H-Hey!" He had grabbed your hand from over your mouth and tightly gripped it with four fingers, pressing it against the headboard.

He grinned widely out of nowhere, "You really thought you could get away with hiding those beautiful sounds from me?" He sat up, unbuckling his jeans. His eyes went cold as he took off his pants and boxer briefs. "I'm gonna have to get some type of...hm, whats the word?" He looked away in though before smiling and snapping his fingers, "Compensation! Yeah...and I know just what I want from you." Shigaraki push you off of the bed roughly. You fell to the floor and rubbed your arm. He sat on the king-sized in front of you with his cock in his hand. "Suck."

You frowned at him. Did he really have to push you off like that? You got on your knees between his thighs and took a good look at it.

Fuck, he's hung...

You covered your mouth with a huge blush. Where the hell did that come from?! He was a good nine inches and quite thick. You frowned at him and pointed at his cock. "The fuck am I supposed to do with this?" He frowned.

Shigaraki didnt say another word. He just grabbed you by the hair and placed it against your lips. You frowned before licking the tip softly, making him laugh breathlessly. "Fuck..." You sucked on his tip and his hand tightened around your hair, pulling a bit. He looked down at you, smirking while absolutely flustered. "Ugh, your little mouth was made for my fat cock, wasn't it, (Y/N)?" He chuckled and pressed your head forward, forcing a bit more of him inside of you. Shigaraki panted as you bobbed your head back and forth on him. "Youre such a fucking slut..." His cheeks was tinted pink as he stared down at you. Tomura started bobbing your head back and forth on him. He laughed as you gagged on him. "What? Is it too big?" Your face went even hotter. How can he be so fucking conceited yet self conscious?! The white hair boy held your face and was practically thrusting into your mouth at this point. He threw his head back and groaned as cum filled your mouth. "Fuck, (Y/N), you're good at that." He watched you like prey as you thumbed the white substance dripping down your chin. You licked your thumb and he chuckled. "How does it taste?"

You smirked at him minscheviously while getting back on the bed. You took off your bottoms and short then spread your legs. "It tastes good enough to deserve a tip, right?" Shigaraki licked his lips as he crawled in between your thighs.

He rubbed you, playing with your slit. "Did sucking me off really get you this turned on?" You flushed and covered your eyes with your forearm. Tomura smirked mischievously as he licked at you. You moaned quietly, his tongue swirling around and his finger going in and out of your hole.

He stuck his ringerfinger in and you squeaked in pleasure. "Mmm... Tomura, I-just like that..." He sucked and licked, getting more sloppy as his fingers pumped in and out of you. He pumoed faster and faster and your small groans turned into loud moaning as you orgasmed. "Fuck Tomura! Ah-!" You came in his mouth, immediately apologizing. Shigaraki just licked his now soaked fingers and you just stared at him, blushing hard as hell. You smiled softly. "H-How do I taste?"

His red eyes prowled your body as he got on top of you. Your cheeks got hotter when he strattled you. You sighed as he rubbed his manhood against you. Small, flustered moans escaped your lips at his teasing. "You taste like you were missing something." His warm breath tickled your ear, "But I'll fix that right up for you."

Tomura slowly entered you. He groaned out your name in ecstasy. You were a bit uncomfortable at first at his thickness. "W-wait, dont move yet..." You breathed in and out slowly, feeling yourself adjust to him. A groan left your lips, "O-okay..."

Tomura grinded against you, kissing your neck as your hands fiddled with his hair. He started off slow, savoring the feeling of you. He sighed into your collarbone. "God, (Y/N), you're so tight..." He cursed underneath his breath, fucking you a bit faster.

Tears pricked at your eyes. This was almost too much for you. Youve always fantasized about being with Shigaraki and now that it was happening, it felt almost too good to be true. He grinded into you deeper, filling you up fully as his hand held both of tour wrists above your head. The bed rocked as he started thrusting into you faster and deeper. "T-Tomura, you feel so good inside of me!" He groaned louder and you couldn't help but become flustered at all of his noises.

He fucked you even faster and harder. "Fuck, youre mine now, okay?" You nodded and moaned louder at him. "Oh fuck!" His white hair bounced as he pulled out and flipped you over. You were on your forearms and knees, begging for him to keep fucking you good as he thrusted in and out, his hand pulling at your hair as the other gave the occasional spank on your ass. Tomura's thrusts became sloppy as you reached your peak. You both moaned loudly, his cum pouring from inside of you. Shigaraki pulled out and immediately collapsed next to you.

You panted as his arms wrapped themselves around you. You smiled at him. "That was good, right?" He chuckled and kissed your lips.

"The best."

You two spooned as Kurogiri had an extra glass of wine, in utter disgust at when he was forced to hear.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 06 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.2 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (05)

Next part (07) ->

{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Being Held

“I don't care what you think, you'll do what's best for (Y/N).” Keanu didn't want to be this rude with Mrs. Davis, but she's giving him a hard time. The doctors have already spoken to her and she agreed on not telling (Y/N) the truth since her health and the baby's depend on it. But still, seating on the first floor's balcony, as (Y/N) showers and changes after the morning walk, Lucia doesn't seem very happy about it.

“Of course not, Mr. Reeves. Or whatever you fancy people rather be called. But this isn't fair, and it isn't right. Do you plan to have this going on for how long?” She raises her voice, what makes Keanu's heart skips a beat. He looks over his shoulder, just to make sure (Y/N) isn't anywhere near. “My son is dead, but this is his child. You can't steal it from him.”

“Everything I'm doing is to keep her healthy.” He whisper-yells, both hands resting on the circular wooden table as he stands up, bending forward, trying to look as intimidating as he can. He doesn't give a damn if Lucia is her mother-in-law and the child's grandmother, he won't let her do anything that may put (Y/N) or the baby in danger. “You weren't here. You didn't see how desperate and lost she was, but I did. Breaking the news to her may lead to a miscarriage. Is this what you want? To lose your grandchild?” He spits the words out, tired of this stupid conversation. This woman is an idiot, he thinks, because he knows she had a meeting with both Dr. Wright and Dr. Harris about (Y/N)'s situation. But Keanu's last words make the woman sink a little, eyes softening, but he can still see some anger. Lucia Davis doesn't like him, that much is clear. “I'm not trying to steal anything from your late son, I'm just–”

“Keanu?” Her soft, low voice calls from the inside, cutting his words short. He takes a deep breath before turning around, watching as she shyly walks to the balcony, curious eyes already looking for Mrs. Davis, and she stops when her eyes find her. “Hi.”

“(Y/N), this is Lucia Davis. Your mother's friend.” He says, reaching out his hands, which she quickly takes, moving to stand next to him. “You were somewhat close.”

With a hand on the small of her back, Keanu listens to the small greetings, thinking if he should go away now, unsure if it's safe to let Lucia alone with (Y/N). But he quickly remembers that the first floor bathroom is close by, with high windows that will allow the conversation to reach his ears. He doesn't want to spy on them, but this is (Y/N)'s health, and he'll do whatever is necessary.

“I'll take a shower.” He tells her in a low voice, offering a small smile when she nods. Placing a kiss on her forehead, Keanu touches her belly gently, at the same time shooting a hard glance at Mrs. Davis. It's a warning, a reminder of what's at risk of she opens her mouth. Then, he leaves, heading to the bathroom after quickly grabbing some clothes, the low voices successfully making their way inside the bathroom.

You're bouncing your leg lightly, wondering how long Keanu will take. This woman is weird, she hasn't stopped asking about your husband, if he's taking good care of you. At first, you thought she was a fan, but now... There's anger in her eyes, like she's pissed off. Ten minutes into the conversation and you want Lucia to go already.

“Has he ever tried to... Force you?” She asks, leaning forward on the table, across from you.

“What do you mean?” Sighing, you play with a strand of hair, twisting it around your finger.

“Has Keanu tried to get intimate with you?” Lucia speaks faster now, grabbing your hand over the table. “Because that's not ok. Even if... Even if you're married–” She spits the last word as if it's something disgusting. “–you don't remember him, so he can't force you to do anything. Don't let him trick you into it.”

“Mrs. Davis, Keanu has been amazing.” You repeat, the conversation draining your strength. “He hasn't forced me into anything. I'm still sleeping in the guest room and so it'll be as long as I want. He's giving me all the space and time I'll need to get things together.” You really hope she can't see you blushing, because there's heat spreading through your face. You haven't thought about any on this yet, and you do hope it won't get into your head. “I assure you everything is great. He's taking good care of me.”

She sighs, shaking her head slightly. “If he ever does anything you're not comfortable with, you call me and I'll take you with me to Argentina.”

A laugh escapes your lips because you can't believe your ears. “I'm not going to leave my husband.” You tell her, crossing your arms over your chest. “I'm completely fine, you don't have to worry about me.” The headache that had just vanished is starting to come back, and you begin rubbing your temples.

“I'm just–”

“Headache?” Keanu speaks suddenly, startling you a little just before you're filled with relief.

“Yeah.” He knows you well. “I think I'll take another pill and get some rest.” Hoping Lucia will get the hint, you stand up, taking Keanu's hand.

“Mrs. Davis, I'm sorry, but I think you should go now. The doctor's said (Y/N) has to rest whenever the headaches get bad.” He says, and you nod, giving the woman a small smile and a wave before heading inside.

That was beyond awkward, and you don't think you'll want to meet with her anytime soon. Making your way to the bedroom, you sit on the bed, back resting on the headrest. It's terribly hot in here, and you jump back to your feet just to push the two windows open before going back to bed. You were expecting Keanu to come to check on you, but long fifteen minutes or so pass by before you listen to his heavy footsteps, and then it doesn't take much until he's opening your door. You're fanning yourself with your hands, the wind coming in not enough to push the heat away.

“I didn't like her.” It's the first thing you say. “And she doesn't like you one bit.”

“I noticed.” Keanu sits next to you, furrowing his eyebrows. “It's probably the age thing.”

“What age thing?” As you speak, you get irritated, pulling your hair off of your shoulders and pinning it above your head with both hands. “Damn it, why am I so hot?”

For some reason, it amuses Keanu, who smiles. “It's called a hot flash.” You were just about to snap at his smirk, but when he leans forward and blows on your neck, the fresh sensation makes you close your eyes and relax just a little bit.

“That's so good.” You mutter, closing your eyes. Then, an idea flashes through your head. “Oh! Go get some ice cubes.”

“Ice cubes?” He asks, quite uncertain.

“Yeah. I had an idea.” Playfully, you give his leg a light kick, smiling when he gives in and stands up.

A couple of minutes later your husband is back with a glass bowl full of ice. You're still fanning yourself and the moment he sits on the bed, you take two cubes, one in each hand, placing them on your neck. “Damn, this is good.” Giggling, you close your eyes to take in the cool sensation against your burning skin. “Help me out.” You ask him, eyes opening again to give him a look. “If you want of course.”

He hesitates a little, eyes lingering on you before he takes an ice cube too. “Where?”

“Uhm...” Thinking for a while, you sigh. “Here on my chest.” Pinching his eyebrows together, he hesitates again. “C'mon, I'm burning up.” With your hands slightly wet from the melting ice, you put the thin straps of your shirt down your shoulders a little. A smile comes to your lips when he finally gives in, softly brushing the cube on your skin, bellow the collarbones. “Thanks.” You mutter, feeling as the heat slowly starts to fade. “What was that you said before? The age thing?”

Keanu sighs, eyes on his current task as you run the cubes through your neck. “Some people are very judgmental about the age difference between us.” He starts, and you're sure he gets a little sad. “It got me thinking too, of course. You definitely should be with someone your age so–”

“Yeah, but here we are.” Deciding to cut him off, you stare at him even though he won't look at you. “I can't speak for myself before, but whoever I was, I married you. So it's probably everything you gotta know about it. And now...” Maybe you shouldn't say it, but you know it's true. And when his eyes meet yours, filled with doubt, and something you've never seen before, you know you have to say it. Keanu needs to know where you stand now because this is like a forced restart. “...I find it really hot.” Muttering, you feel a different kind of heat spreading through your body.

Keanu's lips break into a smile, and a soft giggle reaches your ears. You absolutely love the sound, it makes you want to kiss him. Wait, what? You knew that what Lucia said would somehow get into your head, but you never thought it would be that fast.

“You know what else is hot?” Keanu asks as you pull the ice cubes away, throwing them back in the bowl Keanu placed on the nightstand.

“What?” You inquire, wondering if there's a joke coming your way.

“This,” Keanu answers, tilting his chin slightly, pointing out at you. Now your burning again, cheeks red for sure, looking away from him.

“Don't tease the pregnant woman, Keanu.” You warn him, voice suddenly and unexpectedly weak. “Lucia also said that she'd take me to Argentina with her. As if.” You didn't want to bring her back into the conversation, but you're willing to talk about anything else, eager to calm yourself down and get rid of the thoughts of kissing Keanu.

“If you want to go, you know I won't stop you, right?” He puts the ice cube away, and you sigh, turning your attention back at him. “I'm sure she'd take good care of you.”

“I doubt that. She'd never rub ice cubs on me.” Taking his hand, you give it a little squeeze. “I'm happy, Ke. Living here with you is great. There's a lot to get used to and a lot of things to work on but... This is good. I feel good and safe with you around.”

The smile he has on it's amazing, beautiful. It's the most beautiful smile you've ever seen. “This makes me happy too.” He mutters, bringing his free hand to caress your cheek.

“So don't worry. As if I was going to leave the father of my child behind.” Changing to a joking tone, you place his hand on your belly. “I don't even speak Spanish.”

He giggles again, but soon enough Keanu gets all serious. “You have no idea how much it means to me that... That you're feeling fine. Happy...”

It's true that sometimes you even forget about the accident. It never lasts for more than a couple of minutes, but it means that you can move on from it. But you don't think the same happens with Keanu. You feel like the accident is everything he thinks about, and you hope that taking care of you isn't overwhelming to him. You wish there was something you could do to ease his burden.

“Ke, I... I really want us to work out. If I remember or if I don't, I want things to be completely, one hundred percent fine here.” Moving to sit on your legs, standing closer to him, you touch both his shoulders. “You worry too much. And I get it. My body is still recovering, and there's the baby too, but... I don't want it to become too much and... Ruin things.”

“You're not ruining anything, beautiful, I promise.” With his index finger under your chin, Keanu makes you look into his eyes. “I'm doing this because I love you. I worry because I love you. And nothing will change that. It's not too much, I can do this.”

“Alright, but... Share things with me, you know. Let me help as much as I can being... Well... Like this.” There's a lump in your throat, and you feel tears starting to form in your eyes.

“Hey, don't cry. Come here” Keanu gently pulls you into his arms, and you don't even try to fight it. You had planned this, you decided to fall for him again, but you didn't know your feelings would start to grow by themselves, without you having to force them. You want him, you want to be in his arms, so you don't think much before placing your legs over his, allowing him to hold you. This is everything you need right now, everything you want, to be held by him.

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303

[thecreedsgambit]

Sam Dalton, CEO

author's note: i’m not entirely sure what it is that draws me to sam, but i actually enjoy the nanny affair. despite my uppity claims that i would turn my nose up at the plot (which i, in fact, do) and that i would deny choices the satisfaction of spending endless amounts of diamonds on smutty, indecent scenes with a completely fictional man (which i, in fact, do not do), i cannot ignore my attraction toward sam dalton. it has little to do with his personality and intent. quite frankly, i blame it on the soundtrack. there’s a particular track that’s smooth - almost sexily playful - like a steamy but timid caress that throws a casual smirk at potential and possibility. i’ve grown fond of it, and, of course, it’s the very track that plays when sam freshly enters any scene. so, yes, i completely blame the soundtrack. it’s possible i’ve somehow drawn a loose connection between it and sam. whatever it is, i will continue to read tna and roll my eyes at choices seemingly unobstructed ability to rope me into whatever they present me with (much like sam dalton, i suppose).

"for you, i'll risk it all." - unknown

00. At a Glance.

affiliate: the nanny affair

pairing: m!sam x reader

word count: 1972 (fairly short, i know. but this was poking my imagination after today's chapter. i couldn't deny myself the freedom of writing it down.)

summary: you and sam continue to make eye contact during the regatta, despite your pr plan to lie low and ‘meet-cute,’ if that’s what an outsider might refer to it as.

You had long since forgotten the races. In fact, your eyes weren’t trained on the glistening yachts before you. Instead, your gaze latched onto the picturesque waterfront. The sun’s rays bore into the blue depths beyond where you sat, casting a faint reflection that rippled with every rise and fall of the tide. Slowly, methodically, as if your eyes might blink shut at any moment, you let your gaze lazily trace the waves as they lapped against the dock and collapsed against one another, like a playful fight between two warring siblings.

As if on cue, Mason and Mickey billowed past you with a giggling Jovi in their wake. Jordan scrambled after them, sending you an apologetic smile over his shoulder, before calling - rather, begging - for them to slow down. A short chuckle escaped your lips as you returned your sights to the race before you. Your head tilted, just slightly, as the sun cradled your cheek and warmed your skin with the softest touch.

It was nice. A brief moment to rest from the pressure to look and be impressive. For once, being impressed made a rush of tension leave your already heavy shoulders. The majestic waters and stunning views were enough to draw awe and calm the seemingly desperate need to feel warranted and respected.

Your dignity, poise, and grace sloped, only slightly, as you let your shoulders drop and your hands take refuge on your wrist as you fiddled with one of your bracelets.

For just a moment, you were you. And that was enough.

“No, please. Go on, Will.” Marisol’s voice nearly wrenched you from your stupor. You straightened and resumed your position as a subtle reflection of your new peers you’d almost forgotten sat on your right. Marisol gave you an amused smirk, as if hinting for you to join her harmless teasing. “Perhaps your ramblings about the history of yachting might help me place a few bets.”

Marisol took a small sip of her wine, hiding a whimsical smile behind the tip of her glass. Will only huffed and reluctantly turned his attention back to the race. You bit your lip in an attempt to conceal the grin threatening to lace your earnest expression. You feigned a swat on Marisol’s arm before speaking.

“Oh, Will. Marisol’s only joking. I would love to hear the rest.”

With a quick turn back toward the table, Will grinned triumphantly, clearly elated. “I knew it. At least someone appreciates my genius.”

“I’m sure,” Marisol mumbled, taking another quick sip of her drink to avoid bursting into a fit of laughter.

You dared to throw a sly smirk in her direction before giving in and facing Will directly. He’d already dove into several backstories regarding yachting, each going unfinished as he hurried into the next with enough excitement for the three of you combined. A genuine smile graced your lips as you, momentarily, reveled in his enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, much like your attention on the race, your attentiveness was short-lived. As was your politeness.

For a moment, your gaze slipped once more toward the luminescent waters. You had every intention of returning to the conversation at hand and concentrating on whatever quips Marisol was currently, and once again, uttering toward Will, but your eyes regarded the crowd, instead. Briefly, ever so quickly, you made eye contact with him - with Sam.

He had long since fixed his own sights on you. Normally, your heart would flutter and your stomach would lurch at the slightest glance. Reflexively, you’d wander toward him like a moth drawn to a fiery flame, waiting to be engulfed by his very presence. Even under these circumstances, you wanted to. You wanted to make your way toward him and let your fingers get lost in his hair; public images be damned.

But everything you worked toward thus far hung over your head and your shoulders - a load almost too burdensome to carry.

Your eyes widened with alarm, quickly flitting toward Will and Marisol. Not here.

Sam stood in a semicircle with three other men, who seemed to be lost in a conversation Sam took no interest in. His arms rested at his sides, and his fingers swirled a small glass of whiskey, as he continued his ruthless - almost challenging - stare. It didn’t take long for your demeanor to falter and a restless smile dared to break your masked facade. You tried desperately not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, so you looked away, forcing yourself to come to terms with the ever-enchanting thrills of yacht history.

Except that topic was long gone, and Marisol was waving her hand at a dismayed Will. “You say that every year. Placing a higher bet on Estate Sail hardly makes things any more interesting.”

“What would you propose, then?”

You couldn’t help but to lose focus almost as quickly as you'd gained it; your entire form now rigid under Sam’s steely gaze. Sparing a quick glance in his direction, you noticed he’d done little to disguise his observation of you. Slowly, painfully so, he brought his whiskey glass to his lips and took a slow drink. His eyes never once left yours.

It was intoxicating. Entirely too heavy. Your chest nearly felt hollow as your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach and heat rushed to your cheeks.

Your own stare fell to his chest, sweeping over his broad frame as you consumed every aspect of his person. The purple button-down he wore was quickly becoming your favorite as your eyes traced his taunt muscles under the fabric. His exposed chest seemed to catch the sprawling daylight as the sun chased his neckline and washed over his tan skin with every regard to the glow of his complexion.

Daringly, your eyes fell lower until you cautiously eyed his brown belt. You wondered just how quickly your fingers could trail over each and every loop and how any such movement might elicit a delicious sound from Sam’s lips. You even ventured to imagine one of his hands working the belt off in one, swift motion -

Your eyes snapped back to his. He arched one eyebrow, subtly, as a knowing smirk crossed his seemingly neutral expression. You wavered, feeling absolutely powerless under his scrutiny. Biting your lip, you pointedly angled away from him and desperately made every attempt to heed Will’s words.

Oh just how timely that was.

“I don’t know about that. I’m sure Steffi will take an interest eventually. What about you, (y/n)?” Will’s easy smile made you relax despite how quickly your startled heart raced. You struggled to remember the last thing you heard as Will shrugged. “I know I can be a bit long-winded, but I hope you’re enjoying the races.”

“Yes, you fit right in with us now.” Marisol gave you a genuine smile of her own. “Despite what some people may think, aren’t you glad you decided to join us today?”

You maintained a steady smile as you pushed pesky thoughts of Lana out of your head. “I am. Where else will I hear the harrowing history of yachting or place a wager on anything other than Estate Sail?”

“Hey,” Will warned good-naturedly, laughing despite himself.

Marisol noticed Jovi running after a makeshift sail the twins had tied to a string and shook her head with a warm smile. She and Will turned back to discussing their children and Sterling Academy as you chanced another glimpse of the crowd. Sam still stood firmly in his spot. The men surrounding him were pointing at the yachts in the distance and making idle conversation as Sam’s attention remained on you and only you.

He offered his counterparts around him a brief nod and a clink of his glass, but it was passive. Half-hearted. His eyes bore into you with enough passion to ignite the already kindling fire within your being. You were desperate. Completely at his mercy.

And utterly annoyed by how quickly you’d succumbed to his will. You wanted to prove your ability to do the same - toying with the inevitable long enough to make him flush with desire and writhe under all that you could offer.

You could do it from here; same as him.

Suddenly, shamelessly, your previously obstructed air bent to your change in attitude as you shifted to address his gaze. You arched an eyebrow as you matched his seemingly indifferent composure. You could tell he found your sudden roused behavior amusing, but his jaw quickly feathered as your eyes now held a challenge of your own: Two can play at this game, and I usually win.

Your sudden burst in confidence swelled your chest with enough boldness to dart out your tongue, wetting your bottom lip before pulling it between your teeth.

Some part of you wanted to make the conscious effort to tune into Will and Marisol’s conversation, but their distant chattering proved what you already knew. They weren’t paying either of you any attention.

Sam’s stare grew more intense; his eyes squinting ever so slightly as he watched your every move. With a coy smirk, you moved to pick up your wine glass at a leisurely pace that you were sure would seem like a lifetime to him. Even as the tip of the glass connected with your lips, you were sure to exaggerate every motion. One quick sip left a few drops of wine chasing the curve of your mouth. Using your finger, you wiped away the remnants and brought them to your lips. Your tongue flicked against your fingertip, closing your lips around it entirely, lapping up what was left of the wine.

All the while maintaining eye contact.

Finally, with a barely concealed chuckle, Sam dropped his gaze and shook his head. Every rapid rise of his chest and tense of his shoulders proved he was thoroughly distracted. Satisfied, you turned back to Will and Marisol. Both were watching the next race with an almost unexpected eagerness.

“I told you Estate Sail would win again,” Will stated happily.

Marisol only smiled. “The race isn’t over yet.”

Feeling superior still, you wanted nothing more than to continue your game with Sam, but, when you glanced back at his previous spot, he was nowhere to be seen. You couldn’t help but to frown until Will’s eyes caught on someone behind you and called out:

“Ah, Sam. Care to join us?”

“Actually, yes.” You tried to quiet your usual disposition, avoiding any instinct to turn and gratefully accept his presence with unadulterated mirth. It wasn’t a hard thing to do. In fact, you had to shake yourself from your frozen, shocked posture long enough to glance over your shoulder. Sam stood close enough behind your seat that you could nearly feel the heat emanating from his being, rivaling even the sun’s warmth. “Do you mind -?”

You shook your head, not fully trusting your own voice but not fully committed to throwing away the careful and meticulous planning for your public appearance together either. You waved, feigning carelessness, toward the empty seat across from you. “No, not at all.”

Before he sat, Sam made it a point to glance at Marisol and Will before settling on you. “Does anyone need a refill on drinks? Perhaps another round before the next race?”

The two of you shared a soft, lingering look - one filled with knowing desire and bridled actions. You weren’t sure how you were able to retrain your urge to surge forward and grab him by his shirt collar or loop your fingers through his belt loop, or, even, how you had the strength to manage the rest of the Regatta with a practiced smile. But, then, a minute smile spread across Sam’s features.

Another coy smirk traced your lips as you shook your head. “I’m fine, thank you. Everything I need is right here.”

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 3 - Too Close for Comfort

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: Your training at Tenet is going perfectly well until it’s thrown off balance with the arrival of Neil, who brings chaos and surprising news...

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: So once again this very long, for which I’m sorry. Please let me know what you think! Thanks for the inspiration to my friends, as always! Enjoy!

The first few weeks of your training went by in a mad blur. After day two you realised that to avoid spending ages in the car you had to move into the Tenet building. There you had a cosy room with a bed, desk, a bathroom and relative peace. That is if the more extraverted agents were not partying in the mess hall or the common room. You usually spent the evenings alone, not having the energy or motivation to socialise. Sometimes you also felt as though others perceived you differently for reasons unknown.

Maybe because you have been recruited by one of Tenet’s top agents personally?

Your days have been spent either learning about physics and the theoretical side of the inversion or in the sparring hall, trying to dodge inverted punches and kicks. While all the talk of entropy and nuclear fission usually made your head hurt, it was the hand in hand combat that was the bane of your training. Having absolutely no prior experience in various fighting styles, you often got beat up by the fellow recruits. You certainly preferred guns to fists.

Neil has been gone for weeks as well. You knew that most likely the details of the mission were entirely classified so you never asked. But you sometimes did wonder if he would ever show up again. You had to admit that you did hope so. It would be a shame to never see Anna beam like that again.

This day started like any other in that regard. You woke up and got ready for the first class – geography of Tenet, so lessons covered all the different branches with the turnstiles and how to get from one to another when inverted. After that it was the classic combat. You took your position and acknowledged the partner for the hour – a boring guy named Jack who would sometimes hit on you. And today was not going to be different…

“Hello love” he grinned way too widely

“Hi” you answered back dispassionately, praying for the class to start

“You’re looking good today” Jack smirked, trying to look flirtatious and you rolled your eyes.

Pairs all around you were beginning their training and you wanted to cut the small talk short as soon as possible.

“Please, can we get on with this? I really don’t have time” Jack pouted but complied.

Soon you have begun the session. At first, you managed to block his punches and kicks really well, even hit him a few times when he seemed too busy staring at you to react. But then as the pace picked up, you lost the rhythm. Soon you were breathing hard and your body was aching. While Jack wasn’t pulling any punches, he quickly got worried, seeing you pant and wince. He took a step back and asked:

“Everything alright with you?”

“Yeah, just need a breather” you smiled apologetically.

Suddenly, just as you looked up at the front of the hall where the teachers were stood, a dirty blonde head caught your eye.

It can’t be… you scrunched your neck to see better above the students and your eyes met the unmistakable blue gaze. Neil was staring right at you through the crowd.

Shit. Before you could let your thoughts run away too far, Jack began the training again. Without a warning, he aimed a punch towards your shoulder and you barely blocked it. You were desperately trying to focus on the sparring, but the curious mind kept returning to Neil. You ignored it for a while, but then you looked up again. The blue eyes were on you for all that time. That was also the moment when Jack aimed a punch at your jaw, certain you will be there to block it. You were not.

Next thing you knew you were lying on the floorboards, with a throbbing pain in your jaw and Jack staring at you in shock.

“I…I’m sorry! I thought you’d be ready…” he stuttered and held out a hand to help you get up.

Fuck!, you swore and grudgingly accepted the help. But as soon as you were back standing, you had to run. You couldn’t risk meeting Neil right now. And you were pretty damn sure he saw the whole thing happen. Looking at Jack, you breathed out:

“Sorry, I’ve got to go” and quickly pushed through the crowd to the side exit, praying that you will not be followed.

You got lucky and made a hasty escape to your room where you could finally let your emotions loose. Which in this case meant punching the desk and letting out a stream of favourite swear words. Once that was done you sat down on the bed and covered your face with your hands. You hated embarrassing yourself like that in front of people. Let alone people like Neil.

Finally, after wallowing in self-pity for ten minutes, you got up to shower and change. But you only made it as far as touching the bathroom door handle when you heard a knock.  Somehow you knew who it was and hastily smoothed down your hair before opening the door. Neil stood there, with that sickening grin and tousled hair.

“How did you know which room is mine?” you asked while eyeing him up through the crack in the door.

“Hello to you too” he smirked “Anna told me where to find you”

“Of course” you muttered and opened the door wider to let him in.

“What was that?” he watched you with that sly smile, as though excited about the prospect of annoying you.

“Nothing” you sat on the bed and watched as he took the time to look around your small room.

You noticed that he had ditched the suit jacket and had his sleeves rolled up. The exposed forearms were covered in a few fading bruises and cuts. You stared at them a bit too long and quickly looked down at your lap, desperately trying to find something to say. Normally you liked silence, but in this case it made your thoughts wonder way too much.

“So you’re back then?” you asked, cringing at how stupid that sounded.

Neil sat down on the desk chair opposite you and nodded.

“Yeah, for now the world ending has been averted” he joked lightly, and you smiled, suddenly aware that you have missed him.

He searched your face for a short while before asking:

“I take it you don’t like combat sessions?”

“What gave you such an impression?”

“Well that was an impressive knock-out” he winked, and you groaned, causing him to laugh.

“Was hoping you’ve somehow missed it” you admitted while looking away at the wall.

His intense stare was starting to make you feel self-conscious. After all those weeks of not seeing him you have forgotten what it was like. Sometimes you even thought that maybe Neil was just a figment of your imagination. But he was most certainly real. And right now was still looking at you, searching for something. He found it when he suddenly got up and kneeled right in front of you. You stared wide-eyed as he reached out and touched a sore spot on your jaw, making you flinch.

“Sorry” he apologised “Is this where you got hit today?” gently he traced the bruise that was beginning to form.

“Think so” your voice came out huskier than you expected.

“There’s a small cut” only now you felt the sting “You should get that cleaned up” he noticed and met your gaze steadily.

You realised with a surprise that he was looking at you with worry. He was close. Way too close. You felt the rush of adrenaline and jumped up, nearly knocking him on the head in the process.

“I’m fine” you mumbled “I’ll check it now” you moved towards the bathroom.

But once again it was not meant to be. Neil placed his hands on your arms and pulled you down to sit on the bed.

“We’ve done this before” he glared at you “And I’m not taking ‘fine’ for an answer this time” you could just stare “Now, where do you have the first aid kit?”

“Shelf behind the mirror” you watched as he went to the bathroom and covered your face with your hands.

You always hated being the centre of attention. Being cared after like this. Because it meant that you were not strong enough in the first place. It was easier to just be entirely self-dependent, to never ask for help. And now Neil has seen your weakness twice. It was too much. Just as you have begun to consider bolting away, he emerged, armed with gauze and glass filled with water. He set them down on the bedside table and turned towards you. He must have noticed your struggle because he frowned and took a long look at you before asking:

“Is everything alright?”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze and nodded.

“Because you don’t look alright right now”

“Thanks, you know how to compliment a girl” you joked dryly, trying to stop the line of uncomfortable questioning.

It worked as Neil burst out laughing and looked at you incredulously. The downside was that you could no longer run away. So you accepted his beckoning to come closer and lifted your head to give him better access to the cut. He soaked the gauze in water and carefully cleaned the wound, all the while perfectly focused on the task. Although you could not see him you imagined the look of concentration on his face. Once the cut has been disinfected, he covered it with a small band-aid and gave you a quick once-over. You lowered your head and watched him out of the corner of your eye. After he was done with the inspection, his hand was still gently touching your jaw, with thumb caressing your neck just below the ear. You stared at him with lips parted in shock, wondering if he was aware of the movement. You shifted slightly and that broke him out of the reverie. His eyes met yours, and he smiled softly, not stopping the delicate caress. Now that you knew he was aware of his actions you felt your face heat up. To try and break the tense silence, you decided to speak up:

“Thank you for this…” your voice was incredibly hoarse.

“Of course” he smiled wider “Couldn’t have you walking around bleeding”

His hand had stopped the movement but was still placed on your neck. You could not process how close he was. Your brain kept reminding you how you did not really know him. How it can go wrong. The urge to run away was back, possibly at the worst moment. You quickly turned your head away. Neil looked at you with surprise but before either of you could say anything, a knock echoed in the room. You turned to Neil:

“You expecting anyone?” he asked.

“Certainly not” you frowned and went to open the door cautiously.

On the other side there was a tall man of a soldierly posture with a buzz cut and a pleasant looking face. You looked at him quizzically, but he was staring right past you:

“Anna told me I’d find you here” he addressed Neil, who came up to stand next to you.

The two men then had a rather peculiar silent exchange which started with the soldier smirking while looking at you, and Neil responding with a small shake of the head and a grin. You had enough of that.

“Sorry, but who are you?” you asked, while staring at them both.

“Apologies, ma’am” the newcomer grinned at you “I’m Ives” he extended a hand and you shook it.

“Ives is leader of our squad unit” Neil explained, and you nodded.

“I’m…” you opened your mouth to introduce yourself but got cut off by Ives.

“Oh I know who you are” you stared at him confusedly “Neil told me about you” that knowing grin again.

You noticed with a surprise that Neil looked somewhat flustered. But he composed himself quick enough for you to dismiss that idea. He cleared his throat and asked:

“Anyways, what brings you here Ives?”

“TP wanted me to discuss something with you” your ears perked up at the mention of the Protagonist, the mysterious founder of Tenet “And there will be a small gathering later in the common room with all the squad so thought you might want to join” Ives smiled at you “Both of you”.

Neil looked at you expectantly and you nodded:

“Sure, I’ve got nothing better to do”

“You won’t regret it” Ives grinned “Mate can we talk in private?” he turned to Neil.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you in the briefing room in ten” they shared one last cryptic look and Neil closed the door.

You stared at him, still unable to forget the way he looked at you mere minutes ago. And the moment you have shared. But now the spell has been broken, and you did not know what to say. Luckily Neil seemed to be doing fine as he threw you the signature soft smile:

“Sorry about that. Ives is a pretty straightforward guy” he explained, and you laughed, feeling the tension dissolve.

“I can see that” you held his gaze a little longer before adding “You should go discuss the classified stuff with him. Might be something important”

Neil looked hesitant. Finally, he must have made up his mind because he reached out to squeeze your hand. A familiar gesture by now.

“Shall I pick you up later for the party?” he asked.

“Sure” you smiled “Though calling it a party makes me regret the decision to participate” you admired the grin he sent you.

“No need for that, you’ll do great” he winked and without further word left your room.

Now finally you could panic in peace.

***

After stressing for a solid hour about what to wear, you decided to just put on the comfiest t-shirt and jeans. Most agents and recruits rarely dressed up anyway. Apart from Neil, naturally, but you had a feeling he was an exception in most things. Once you got ready, you sat at the desk, trying to finish the assignments for the classes. That was a very bad idea since your brain was mostly busy panicking about the party and analysing what happened before Ives came. When that desired (and feared) knock sounded in the room, you rushed to open it. You were almost happy Neil has not changed into an expensive suit.

“Ready?” he smiled, and you automatically beamed back.

Have I become like Anna already?, you cringed at your reaction. But there was no time to marinate in shame as Neil practically pulled you out of the room without waiting for confirmation. You stared at him, surprised as the door to your room slammed shut.

“Are we that late?”

He just grinned and started walking down the corridor. You shook your head amused before jogging to catch up. When you both entered the common room you first noticed that they have reorganised the space by moving the couches around. Now they formed a large circle in the middle of which there was a table set with beer and wine bottles. There was also music playing from the speakers. And there were at least ten people in the room. At that observation you swallowed hard. You were never good with meeting new people and the idea itself made you anxious. But looking at Neil marching in confidently and shaking hands with everyone you realised that you might have to overcome the fear. The moment you stepped through the threshold all eyes were on you.

Bloody hell, you pasted a small smile on your lips and looked at all the faces. But before you were forced to introduce yourself, Ives did it for you:

“This is our new recruit, Y/N” everyone smiled at you “She’s friends with Neil, so we’ll probably see more of her” he added, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

You looked at Neil and once again would swear he looked slightly uncomfortable. But before you could think about it more you got swept into the circle by Ives and tried to remember names of everyone introduced to you. After the initial small talk, you sat down with a glass of wine, hoping to be able to just listen to others talk and fade into the background. But it wasn’t meant to be…

“So how do you like the training?” a woman asked, that you believed was called Wheeler.

She was looking at you with a pleasant smile which gave you the needed courage.

“It’s not too bad. The whole physics side of it makes my head hurt sometimes but then it’s all so fascinating” you saw a few understanding smiles and nods.

“Well I can help you with the physics if you ever need it” Neil spoke up suddenly and you looked at him across the table.

He has been weirdly quiet since you came in but was evidently listening to the conversation. He was looking at you with a small smile which you mirrored as a way of thanks. You were very aware of the company.

“But yeah I don’t mind the training” you tried to finish the thought “It’s very different from the stuff I did at university and that’s refreshing” you grinned.

“Heard you don’t like the combat training” Ives smirked, and you glared at him.

So everyone knows now…, you groaned mentally.

“What’s the basis for this assumption?” you didn’t want to give up your dignity without a fight.

With satisfaction, you noted the surprised grin he responded with.

“Got my sources” he shrugged “And that bruise on your jaw is a pretty good clue too”

“What can I say, you got me there” you put up your hands in surrender and he laughed.

“No shame in that though, love” your eyes widened at the nickname “I’m sure you’ll get better at it with time” he winked, and your eyes got even wider.

At that point someone luckily started another topic that you were not familiar with so you could focus on dealing with what just happened. You felt someone stare at you intently and looked up to see the well-known blue eyes boring into your face. His expression was somewhat sombre, and you briefly wondered if he could be jealous. You shook your head at the ridiculousness of the thought and took a large sip of wine. Neil was still looking at you and only stopped when he got asked about a recent mission. You listened curiously:

“Well it was nothing out of the ordinary. Inverted weapons dealer, murky transactions and a proper gunfight in the parking lot” he shrugged, and you wondered if that’s what the future holds for you.

“Any fuck ups this time?”

“Just a small… misunderstanding” Neil raised his arms to show the bruised forearms and the others laughed.

Then the conversation shifted towards more mundane things and you were happy to just listen. You have been pleasantly surprised by the camaraderie you noticed between the squad members and Neil. You have been asked a few questions about your past which were a nice change to the anonymity you got used to during the training. Sometimes you would look at Neil, giving in to curiosity. He was either listening to the conversation or joking with the rest, making use of the infinite charm he seemed to possess. You were not surprised to see that everyone seemed to like him. After a while you lost the sense of time and were pretty sure you had enough wine to regret it in the morning. So when someone mentioned that it is past 1am you groaned out loud and got up. The world swayed before your eyes and you waited another moment to adjust before speaking:

“Sorry I need to go now or else won’t survive the shooting training tomorrow” you smiled apologetically.

“Good luck with that!” Ives sent you another cheeky grin and you laughed.

“Thanks, will be needed” with that you moved towards the exit, waving goodbye.

You started walking down the corridor when you felt a hand touch your arm unexpectedly. You jumped up at the contact.

“Didn’t mean to startle you” Neil smiled, and you glared at him.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t creep up on me” you both continued down the hallway “Why did you leave the party?” “I’m quite tired” you glanced at him surprised “And because I have something important to tell you”

You stopped in front of your door and you leaned on the wall.

“The Protagonist wants to meet you” your eyes widened “That’s what me and Ives talked about before. He said that TP is interested in you and wants us to come to the HQ’s as soon as we can”

You stared at him in shock. It didn’t make any sense.

“Why?”

“No idea” he shrugged, and you were shocked to see him clueless “But I’ll go with you and I want us to get the plane on Friday after your training”

“That’s the day after tomorrow” you frowned, thinking about everything you would need to do before boarding on a plane to the US.

“I know. But from my experience I can tell you that if TP says something, it’s best to listen to him” he added, startling you with the serious tone.

He must have noticed how scared that made you because he reached out to touch your shoulder and gave it a gentle rub.

“Don’t worry about it for now though. I’ll arrange everything for the travel and will come by tomorrow afternoon with details” he let his hand fall to his side and you instantly missed the touch.

You raked through your head for something to say.

“So you’re not disappearing this time?” you asked finally, letting yourself eye him suspiciously.

“Certainly not” he grinned and watched as you opened the door to the room. When you got in, he added:

“But it’s good to know you’ve missed me” the playful sparks made you want to punch him in the teeth.

Instead, you just rolled your eyes pointedly, way too tired.

“G’night, Neil” you muttered and started closing the door.

“Sweet dreams” he whispered and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

You covered your head with your hands. This is very inconvenient, you thought while wondering how you got yourself into this situation.

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

"Vampire landlord" Do with that what you will :)

Ahhh! I love this and I love you for sending it! I think I have an answer for you now, actually!! Remember way back when you actually sent me Seeds Of Unrest and I did that whole Edge x OFC x Christian thing? Well, hello to Yvette, Edge and Christian again.. This is kind of a newer / fresher look at it? I think we kinda.. danced around these three and this at some point on Discord and our talks actually inspired me to write this out for your answer. So.. Yeah.

There’s not really anything steamy here, just uh.. Heavy tension. That’s all.

Warnings:

Nothing, really.. Bear in mind that this is a vampire!edge & wolf!omega original character work, so things might... possibly.. get weird. Not in the sexual sense or anything, but like.. yes. Just weird. IE... The brood is portrayed here as an actual family coven of vampires.. And Luna is in a partnership with Gangrel.. And they’ve taken Edge and Christian in as their sons.. So it’s very much also a found family idea that I’ve had in mind for a while but never the guts to truly write..

Oh, wait.. yeah.. There are heavy hints that Orton is involved in this little tale somewhere, sooner or later... And it ends on a bit of a random cliffhanger, sorry!!

Tagging:

@kyleoreillysknee​​​​​​

@rampagewriting​​​​​​

@writertoo18​​​​​​

@thatnerdwriter​​​​​​

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure​​​​​​

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@gothcerulli

@linziland13 

It was a little after 9 pm.

That feeling of unease hadn’t worn off. I kept telling myself that Randy wouldn’t dare cross over to the vampire side of town. But deep down, knowing how insane Randy could be at times… I couldn’t entirely convince myself he wouldn’t if he didn’t want something bad enough.

Three sharp raps at the door of the little house had me jumping at least two feet into the air and scrambling for an old wooden bat that leaned against the door.

Something Luna’s son brought over just when it started to get dark. 

I could almost hear the dry tone to his voice then as he’d told me “If you won’t take a gun or keep a silver blade on you…” when he left it behind earlier.

Tiptoeing towards the window, I found myself peering through cheery red curtains and out into the darkness. In the distance, I could hear a lone howl and that had me tensing all over. The air felt heavy.

I was doing it again, letting my own fears get to me.

“The Alphas of our kind don’t typically come here. He isn’t lurking in the shadows. I need to get a grip.” I muttered it to myself, mostly to break the tension.

The door was being knocked on harder now.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hand shaking so bad I barely kept a hold of the wooden bat as I stepped towards it.

Sniffing the air had my body relaxing only slightly. It wasn’t the pungent and overpowering aroma of Randal or any of his pack mates come to steal me away in the darkness and drag me back to hell kicking and screaming that awaited me on the other side of the door.

Instead, I smelled old leather. Traces of copper that indicated that the surly man with the long blond locks who stood on the stoop must have just returned from either the blood bank or scouring the woods that lined the edge of the town square for deer or any other sort of game he could find.

It’s how they fed, Luna told me once. She never told me why and I never asked.

“Edge?” I questioned, my back pressed as heavily as I could get against the front door to the house until I was absolutely sure it was him and I wasn’t picking up on residual from his visit earlier in the evening.

“Yeah.” he answered.

I turned to face the door and took a few long and deep breaths to pull myself together. The bat fell to the parquet flooring with a quiet thud that seemed to echo all around the room and I rose to tiptoe, peering through the small pane of glass at the top of the door.

I wasn’t taking any chances. 

I knew I was safer here than I was on my side of town, but… I also knew just how calculating and ruthless Randal could be when he set his sights on something and got an idea in his head. I knew that mimicking scents wasn’t below him. Neither was doing something to potentially harm Luna and her family, then using one of them to gain entry to the house I was currently hidden in.

If he really wanted to find me, a silly little thing like unspoken boundaries and code of conduct weren’t going to stop him. Not that he’d ever had a code of conduct to begin with. Or common decency, anything like that.

,,to be fair  it didn’t stop you when you chose to go into hiding here, did it? You’re really only as safe as you choose to believe you are at any given moment. You know you’re putting Luna and her family at risk simply by being here. You know that sooner or later, Randal will find you. He is a monster, after all.” the reminder came just as Edge knocked a few more times, impatient.

“Just a second.” I finally managed to get the words out. I reached for the door knob and unlocked that, then I unlocked all 3 of the chain locks on the door and opened it just a slip, standing in it.

Edge stared down at me, arms folded over his chest. His eyes settled on the fallen bat nearby and he gave a dry chuckle.

“Is there something wrong?” I tilted my head slightly to gaze up at him, shuffling my feet. 

My heart started to pound. I was all too well aware of the tension that radiated off of his body and I knew exactly why. Working with Luna meant I got to hear things now and then. One of those things being Edge’s struggle with going to donor blood or animal blood.

I don’t know why, exactly, but I found myself wondering whether my blood smelled weird to him. I’d been working with Luna for over a year now and I still hadn’t grown accustomed to the scent of her if I were being perfectly honest. And being on this side of town…

The scent of death. Old and new. It mingled heavily in the air.

I wasn’t used to it at all. I’m not sure I’ll ever be used to it.

Edge’s teeth snagged on his lower lip and he cleared his throat, again, a sign of impatience.

“Luna sent me over for tonight.” he explained as he nodded to the room behind me, indicating that he wanted to come inside. I swallowed hard and eyed him, shaking my head.

,, He’s not a threat to you… At least not in the way Randal would be right now.” the thought lingered and while I knew that, there was also this lingering air of danger and mystery that seemed to roll right off the man standing in front of me.

He left me unsettled.

I couldn’t figure out whether that was a good thing or a bad one, either…

After the tension seemed to get thicker to a point where I found myself breathing erratically, I stepped aside and let him into the living room. Edge shut the door behind him and sank down onto the sofa.

I sat down at the other end. Very careful not to invade his space.

The dim glow of the television set filled the room and silence seemed to settle in until he spoke up again.

“Luna had a bad feeling. Thinks you’re in danger.” Edge explained, almost immediately falling silent again. A thoughtful look on his face. I didn’t dare ask what was on his mind. I didn’t dare say what was on mine, either. But the thought was weighing down on me heavily.

,, Oh, I’m in danger alright.. In danger of crawling right out of my damn skin at any second because I can feel my heat beginning. Thank god I have my suppressant patches and I got away from my side of town in time...” just the mere thought had my face burning hot and I didn’t dare meet his gaze. I cleared my throat and spoke up.

I got the distinct feeling that I probably didn’t want to hear his answer, but I knew I had to ask. I had to know if Luna had been feeling off all day too.

“Did she happen to mention why, exactly?” I asked the question in a series of shaky breaths.

My heart pounded harder against my chest. My mind filled and spun with the possibilities. Had Randal and his pack mates found out where I currently hid?

Edge eyed me and shrugged. “All she told me was that she felt like you were in danger tonight.”

I couldn’t help but stare at him out of the corner of my eyes. Studying him intently, searching for any possible hint whether I’d just caused problems for Luna and her family. Edge’s chuckle drew me out of my thoughtful daze.

“What?”

“You. You do realize if we wanted you dead or if we wanted to turn you, you’d be one of us or  dead already, right?” Edge shrugged as he mentioned it.

I nodded. Dragging my hands through my hair, I spoke up quietly. 

“It’s not so much you guys as it is… The threat me being here poses to you all.” I fell silent, grumbling to myself and pouting a little when Edge nearly doubled over, laughter so hard that he shook a little.

He stopped and the laughter died away. His eyes roamed over me slowly. Carefully.

I tensed and gulped under his gaze. If I thought my cheeks burned hot before, they burned so much hotter now under the gaze. He was moving closer to me.

“You really think we can’t handle a pack of mangy animals?” Edge asked the question as he shook his head in amused disbelief.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I…” I stammered, nervous. Getting more nervous with each second that passed. Because he seemed to get closer.

Sitting taller.

My eyes left his and settled on his mouth. The faintest hint of blood at the corners of his mouth a very real warning of the danger he was to me.

But the animal within didn’t seem to care.

She felt amused. Satisfied. Curious. And oh so dangerously attracted to the vampire sitting to my left. ,, almost as equally attracted as she was to his brother, who’d come by earlier, right after he left the first time..”  the knowledge of this had me curious. Wondering what was up with that. Telling myself that it was probably just purely physical.. But knowing that was wrong because for whatever reason... I felt this.. Pull... to both men.

I realized that Edge wasn’t the only one moving closer around the same time that the side of my leg brushed against his and the door was being knocked on, yet again. Edge raised a finger to his lips and muttered quietly, “Shhh. Don’t move. Stay put.” as he got up and strode over towards the door.

I tensed even more.

Not that I’d ever fully felt the tension leave my body. Just changing… From one form of tension to another.

I watched that front door like my life depended on it, only letting out a few long and ragged breaths when Luna’s other son Cristian stepped into the room.

And while I may have relaxed slightly, I was still in control of myself enough to know that either way I sliced things currently, I was still in danger.

,, but you’re safer here in this little house on this side of town than you are on your own. Here, you have freedom. You’re not just some little breeder who is frowned upon because she stubbornly refuses to breed with the first Alpha to pay her a passing glance… ”  

If that Alpha had been anyone other than Randal Orton, I may well have caved in.

Cristian cleared his throat and flashed me that megawatt grin, immediately flopping down on the right end of the couch after walking into the living room. He sprawled out, an arm going around the back of the couch lazily.

“Looks like you’re stuck with two stiffs tonight, princess.” Cristian teased, giving me a playful little wink as he held my gaze for more than a few seconds. I couldn’t help but stare right back at the man.

Edge grumbled to himself but flopped down onto the other side of the couch. I tried to focus on the television, on anything but the… sheer magnets pull I felt to both brothers.

I could feel the two glaring daggers at each other over my head and on more than one occasion, I almost spoke up about it. 

“Blondie here thinks we’re afraid of a few little mangy mutt assholes, Cris.” Edge chuckled, a teasing look when those almost golden brown eyes locked on me. I shifted around in my spot between the two of them.

“I never said that.”

“You did. I mean, kind of.” Edge explained, chuckling in amusement.

I needed to catch my breath. Pull myself together. Cristian’s hand brushed against my shoulder and the touch felt like an icy jolt. His arm remained around me, pulling me into his side just a little more, brazenly.

Edge’s leg was pressed against the side of mine and that jolt only doubled. And if I thought Christian were being more brazen and the bigger flirt, I was mistaken, because Edge’s hand settled on my leg, giving a squeeze almost playfully.

 I pulled myself off the sofa and spoke up.

“Popcorn. I think I’m going to go get myself some from the kitchen… Yeah… that’s what I’m gonna do.”

And as soon as I said it, I hurried out of the room as fast as my feet would carry me. I needed to pull myself together. Catch my breath. I couldn’t even think straight between the two handsome men... And that in itself was a very, very dangerous thing right now.

[jar-of-ectoplasm]

First Kiss Headcannons: All Characters!

(none of these pictures are mine)

i’m sorry these took so fucking long to finish-

Herbert West:

-This was most certainly not planned, and this was definitely Herbert’s first kiss. He had just made a pretty fucking important discovery regarding his little hobby and he just couldn’t contain his excitement. He bolted up the stairs and straight to you, giving you a quick kiss on the lips

-Herbert’s kisses are very sloppy at first, but he’ll get the hang of it eventually. He isn’t quite sure what to do with his hands so they’ll probably just be fluttering all over you. They go from cupping your cheeks, to holding your jaw, to around your shoulders, running down your arms and eventually ending up holding your waist

-After he pulled away from you Herbert will be talking a mile a minute about whatever he had found in the lab, up until he realized what he had just done. He’ll stop talking immediately, a dark shade of pink creeping up his neck and into his face. He’ll probably just walk away and back into the basement before coming up again and giving you a real kiss

Dan Cain:

-Dan thought that the cutest way to have your first kiss would be after a very special date. It was your one month anniversary and Dan was dropping you back off at your house. After walking you to your front door, he leaned in for a kiss

-Daniel wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s a very emotional man, and his kisses are very emotional as well. Whatever he is feeling, you can feel it in the kiss. Almost all of the kisses he gives you are full of unconditional love. They’re so sweet and every single time they leave you breathless 

-When he finally pulls away, he gives you the same charming smile you fell in love with while he catches his breath. After giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, you ruffle his hair and walk into your home

Megan Halsey:

-Another day, another incident where Hill freaked the actual fuck out of Megan. It was yet another dumbass dinner that her dad invited Carl (ew) to, so she had nowhere else to go but your place to escape the scary old man. Understandably, your Meg arrived to your front door in tears (do i get unreasonably scared and teary eyed when old men objectify me? maybe. am i self projecting? also maybe.) Pulling her inside, you gave her a soft kiss to calm her down and hopefully get her in a better head-space

-Has the softest kisses of the bunch (except for maybe Crawford but still). Meg will lace her fingers together behind your neck and kiss the corners of your mouth before getting to your actual lips. Every single one of her kisses, no matter what kind of mood she’s in, is always filled with love (just like her)

-After Megan had calmed down and explained what had happened (you were understandably angry and disgusted with Hill) you set up the most comfortable spot on the couch and popped in a rom-com to cheer her up. The entire time, you two cuddled and exchanged small kisses until you fell asleep

Crawford Tillinghast:

-This event was either planned or it was completely by surprise. Maybe Crawford had set up a cute little romantic evening, all coming to a close with your first kiss with him or he just got way to excited about something and just went for it during the heat of the moment

-Crawford’s kisses are very slow and soft but very passionate. He’s not the best with words, so he relies on actions to speak for him. He’ll cup your jaw and keep a hand on your hip while you have your arms wrapped around his neck

-He’ll either smile the softest, most loving smile you have ever seen on a man’s face or he will start apologizing so much and so fast you can barely make out the words (you’ll have to shut him up with another kiss) depending on what prompted the smooching

Katherine McMichaels:

-Lovely, darling Katherine was overworking herself again and you were having absolutely none of it. She was too tired to hold a pen properly, so you had to guide her out of the in-house office and to your shared bedroom. After tucking her in Katherine pulled you down for a quick kiss, mumbling a goodnight before she passed out

-I headcannon Katherine as a very hard worker considering she’s a female doctor in the 80′s, so she’s almost always pretty busy keeping up with paperwork and such. Her kisses are usually in passing and pretty quick, but when she does finally get time to relax (or you make her take a break) she’ll savor each and every kiss being given (sweet babey 😌)

-While you two were eating breakfast the next morning, Katherine asked if you had actually kissed or if she was dreaming. After explaining that yes, Katherine, you really did kiss me she just pulled you in for another (much less sleepy) kiss :)

Bubba Brownlee:

-With being a police officer and all, Bubba’s job does come with some level of risk so when you got a call from the hospital that he had to stay for the night, you rushed over immediately. Apparently your darling boyfriend had gotten caught in a shoot out, thankfully only catching a bullet to the shoulder and his leg, but it still worried you immensely. As soon as you walked into his room, you pulled him in for a kiss

-Tall man has to lean down A LOT (or lean up a little bit for those of you taller than 6′5, i see you tall kings, queens, and other assorted royalty) so Bubba might just pick you right the fuck up when he is in need of smooches. His kisses are very smiley, every single time he kisses you it’s always broken by him smiling and laughing to himself. He’s just so happy with you, baby!!!

-As stated above, your unexpected smooching was broken by his (award winning) smile. He pulled you in for a careful hug and apologized for worrying you. The entire time Bubba was awake he was giving you little kisses all around your face, but he eventually fell asleep which caused you to stay the night in the hospital as well

Milton Dammers:

-Milton was resting his head on your shoulder like he always does and today he was feeling a little bit more confident than usual. He tilted his head up, meaning to give you a little kiss on the cheek, but he had caught your lips instead after your turned your head to look at him

-Milton’s kisses are very soft and VERY hesitant. No matter how far into the relationship you guys are, he’ll always handle you like you’re made of glass. He just loves you so much, he doesn’t want to hurt you (a soft man deserves some soft kisses god damn it)

-Oh god oh fuck what has he done. Immediately after realizing he missed your cheek, Milton would yell out an apology and basically run into the other room. He’d probably cry, not because the thought of kissing you was disgusting to him, but because he was afraid you’d hate him for it. Just approach him calmly and explain that everything was okay and that you didn’t hate him

Ash Williams:

-A deadite had broken through the backdoor while you were in the kitchen getting a snack and Ash was waiting on the couch watching a movie. Said movie was of the horror genre and the volume was cranked up pretty loud, so Ash didn’t really notice that your screaming was coming from the other room and not the TV. After killing the deadite and making sure you weren’t hurt, he just smashed his face onto yours

-Ash’s kisses really just depend on how he’s feeling. When he’s jealous, they’re rough and possessive and when he’s in a better mood, they’re still kinda rough but not nearly as possessive. But when’s he’s sad/upset? oh man, these are the rare times Ash doesn’t almost break your skull with the sheer force of his kisses, so cherish that while it lasts (which hopefully doesn’t last long, make your boy happy again god damn it-)

-When he pulled away from you, Ash held you to his chest (even though it was covered in blood) and started crying while rattling out apology after apology. When he finally lets you go, you’re probably gonna have to hold him as well ‘cause he’s still sobbing (you’re gonna be on a blood stained kitchen floor for a while man)

[pit-and-the-pen]

But what if...Jk...unless...

A dream fic (with a little liberty but basically the same vibe) for @thoseofgreatambition. Hope it’s everything you want :)

I got carried away since I really do love writing for George..... 

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

I was sitting on my bed at the safe house, it was just a little past sundown when I got a knock on my door. 

“Y/n?” A voice from behind the door calls. 

I folded over the corner of the book I was trying to read and set it down. I walk over to the door to open it and standing behind it is George Weasley in all of his glory. 

“You got a second?” He sounds serious. I instantly start to panic but swallow it down. 

“Yeah of course. Is everything alright?” Even I can hear the stress in my voice. 

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry everything is fine. I guess. As fine as they can be...considering..” A breath escapes from my mouth. Deflating. He’s trying to make it into a joke so it must be semi-serious. 

“What’s up?” 

“I want to do something a little stupid. And I need, one, you not to get upset, and two you to go with me.” I roll my eyes at this melodramatic tone.

“George whatever you need. I’m in.” 

“Don’t agree before you hear it.”

“Merlin, George just spit it out.” I say getting slightly impatient.

“I need to go check on the shop.” He rushes out.

No. Absolutely not. Not a chance in hell. I have heard a fair share of stupid things come out of this mans head but this by far has to be the stupidest thing he has ever thought of. 

“You said you wouldn’t get upset.” Hurt is laced into his voice. 

“You didn’t say it was that stupid.” My tone is clipped. 

“I said a littl..”

“Little. Not damn near suicidal.” I stare him down with a gaze that would put Molly to shame.

“Look. I just want to grab some things. Ya’ know, and make sure the place is still standing. It’s really important to me.” George went straight to pleading. He knew I couldn’t say no if it was that important to him.

I looked up at the ceiling like it would suddenly come and strike me down. I wasn’t that lucky. 

“Fine. I will go on this death mission with you. Just because I know you’d go with or without me.” I sigh. 

In the next moment, I’m getting picked up off of my feet. Smothered in a giant hug from George. 

“Thank you.” 

“Thank me when we get back. Preferably with all of our remaining parts.” I say, still not used to the hole on the side of his face. Just another reminder of what is out there waiting for us. 

I regret saying yes the moment I agreed. Damn George and him knowing I can’t say no to him. 

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

“If you don’t stay still. I will just just cut it all off.” I shout at the man doing his best impression of a worm for me currently. He just continues to laugh  “Stop it or I won't go.” He laughs harder at my attempt to be stern but stops squirming. I am currently covering up his signature red hair, turning it into a dark brown. Going right into the belly of the beast was one thing, his bright red hair would give us away and I wasn’t going to rely on a cloak to cover it up if we got caught. Mine was currently a bright white that made Malfoys’ look brassy. Hopefully it would be enough if we were to get stopped, not that I think the person stopping us would be the ‘ask questions’ first type. A few more flicks of my wand and all the red is covered. I dye his eyebrows for good measure and he really does look like a whole new person. “Okay done.” I say tucking my wand away into my cloak. 

“That should hold for long enough to get us there and back.” I say, my mind reeling at all the things that could go wrong. Just to check on his stupid store. George’s work ethic was one thing I admire about him, but it really did know no boundaries. 

We manage to sneak out of the boundaries of the protection spells around the cottage. I looked up at the dark sky for the first time in what felt like months. For being on the beach, I really did just hide away inside. 

We apparated to just a few stores down from the shop, just in case there was anyone waiting inside it. It would give us time to either get out or to prepare for a fight. 

I grabbed George’s arm tightly as we walked down the abandoned and destroyed street that used to be crawling with life. The windows all blown out or boarded up, glass crunching under our feet as we walked what used to feel like a second home. I had to swallow back tears. Just seeing this type of destruction in a palace that used to feel untouchable. 

George seemed to sense my mood change, and might even have been feeling it himself and squeezed the hand that was wrapped around his arm. To anyone that looked we probably just looked like a very out of place couple. The store was in view and to say it was eerie would be an understatement. The giant moving statue outside of it, still and lifeless. Seeing that sent a chill down my spine and was really threatening my self control. Other than just being dead, it looked pretty untouched. One window in the front was broken but that could be easily fixed. I tried to focus on that. It was rebuildable. Maybe we all were. 

Suddenly I got the feeling we were being watched. 

“Shit.” I swore when I saw someone walking towards us. I pulled George closer and picked up our speed. I felt his other hand twitch towards where his wand was tucked. Taking a deep breath, I pull him towards me and give no time to think about it before I push my lips against his. My heart stops beating the moment I meet the softness. With how much he bites at his lip I would expect them to be rough but it was like touching a cloud. As sweet as a sugar quill. He lets out a surprised gasp and I expect him to pull away or maybe even push me off. Be disgusted. His hand comes up to my face and I brace myself. Instead he just grabs my cheek, his other hand leaving his wand and wrapping around my waist. I can feel the heat of his skin through my traveling cloak and it warms up my whole body. My heart flutters in my chest, it’s only because we almost got caught. Yeah that’s it. Not because I’m currently kissing the man I’ve happened to have a crush on since year 4. 

Whoever was calling to us clearly decided it wasn't worth breaking up the apparent happy couple and I can hear them mutter something under their breath as they walk out of sight. 

After a few more long seconds I go to pull away. When I open my eyes, I find his warm brown eyes staring back at me. 

Silence hangs in the air, heavy and full of a spark. My whole face heats up as I’m waiting for him to chew me out. Call me crazy. Say that I’m the biggest idiot ever.

“Finally” He says in a husky voice like silk. He uses the hand that’s on my cheek to pull me back to his lips. I swear my heart stopped altogether at this point. It’s soft and sweet, everything I ever dreamed it would be. Except so much better because I knew it was real, this was really happening. I smile against his lips and pull back. 

“You’re telling me. Now let's go grab whatever was so important that it was worth risking our lives”. 

His hands dropped from my waist and intertwined with my hand. It was at that moment I knew I would do anything to protect this man.

[nano--raptor]

The Game

Pairing: Vampire! Bucky x Female Reader

Word count: 1,500

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol mention/consumption, smut, smutty ending, implied smut, Bucky's fangs

A/N: Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ for the Second Chance Drabble Challenge! Based on the prompt below and featuring my love, Vampire!Bucky! Thanks for reading!

“No fair that’s cheating!” “No, I improvised. There’s a difference.”

-----

You and Bucky had a game. A game that you’d play when you were out in public, with friends, or out for dinner, and it was simple. Try to turn the other person on. The first one to initiate physical contact (general displays of affection aside) would lose. It wasn’t all bad, as you usually both ended up winning in the end, but it was fun, and added excitement to your nights out.

Tonight you were going to your friend Steve’s for drinks on the patio, and of course Bucky looked fucking incredible. Perfectly broken-in, dark wash jeans, and a black button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone. As soon as he walked out of the bedroom you wanted to get your hands on him. He winked as he walked by, and you stalked into the room, choosing a fitted pair of cropped jeans and a cozy, open-back sweater. Usually you’d wear a cute lace bra underneath, but tonight you chose to ditch the bra, hoping Bucky would enjoy the view of your naked back. You strapped on a pair of heels, and after double checking your reflection, were ready to head out.

-----

The drinks and conversation both were flowing at Steve’s, everyone was enjoying the evening. You’d naturally separated into guy and girl groups, Steve's friends Sam and Clint were there too, but it had been so wonderful to catch up with your girlfriends Nat and Wanda. Every now and then you could hear Bucky’s laughter float over towards you, the sound always sending warmth through your veins.You sat on the patio sofa with your back to him, giving him a nice view of your figure, with your legs crossed, lifting your wine glass to your glossed lips. Every now and then you’d make eye contact, and he’d wink or you’d bite your lip. You could see the spark in his eyes and you loved it, loved having his gaze on you from across the space.

Bucky sat looking absolutely relaxed and comfortable in his skin, which is one thing you loved about him. It was sexy as hell, and his charm never failed to captivate you just like it had the first time you met him. He seemed to notice every glance you stole at him, his eyes flicking to meet yours every time. It felt like he had the upper hand, even though nothing had really happened yet. You did brush his arm as he walked past to refill his drink earlier, and he dropped a kiss on the top of your head on his way back, but other than that, it had been a pretty tame evening.

You still felt like you were burning up though.

“You’re staring again!” Nat’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you tried to hide your blush at being called out by taking another sip of your wine. “You two are so ridiculous,” she teased.

“Why, what do you mean?”

“You’re practically eye fucking each other! I would tell you to get a room, but I wouldn’t put it past you guys to just go inside Steve’s place and start going at it somewhere.” You blushed again, but Nat’s smile was warm and knowing. She always bugged you and Bucky about how in love you were, but she didn’t mean anything mean by it.

“Oh come on, I like to think we have a little more class than that!” You paused, and then smirked back at her. “Although, if Steve happened to have an empty sofa somewhere…” Your voice trailed off and Steve piped up from somewhere behind you.

“Oh hell no. No one does the dirty on my couch except me!” Bucky’s laugh rang out again and you were pretty sure you got goosebumps this time. You risked sneaking a glance over your shoulder again, and you nearly dropped your glass when you saw him.

His fucking fangs were out. 

Bucky laughed full out, head thrown back, hand to his chest and suddenly your heart was pounding in your ears and you couldn’t look away. He rarely had them out just for the hell of it, it usually only happened when he was feeling extreme emotions. Or when he was trying to make a point, which was clearly what was going on here.

He damn well knew what he was doing, and you were definitely going to lose this game tonight.

You swallowed thickly, barely registering Nat’s voice as she tried to get your attention. Bucky caught your eye for a brief moment, and then slowly, teasingly, traced his tongue over his teeth, feigning interest in whatever Steve was now talking about. You drew in a shuddering breath and blinked, tearing your eyes away from him. Shit.

“She’s gone,” Wanda mused, her and Nat smirking and giggling over your obvious lust. You cleared your throat and turned back to them, clearly flustered, your face heated in a blush.

“He’s doing it on purpose!” You tried to keep the whine out of your voice, but Nat laughed and flashed you a knowing grin.

“Looks like someone’s getting lucky tonight!” She winked and sipped her wine, while you sighed in defeat, finishing yours off with a single sip.

-----

Once you arrived home, you followed Bucky into the kitchen, dropping your bag on the counter and stalking over to him. You wrapped your hand around his wrist and when he turned to look, you grabbed his shirt collar, yanking him close and crushing your mouth to his. He smirked against your lips and his hands flew to your hips, pulling your body against his own. You licked into his mouth, nibbled his lip, dragged your tongue over his teeth, and Bucky swallowed your every moan as it quickly grew heated.

"You lose," he rumbled between kisses, amusement lacing his voice. You whined in response.

“No fair, you cheated!” Bucky barked out a laugh and pulled away, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“No, I improvised, there’s a difference.” You pouted and yanked your chin from his grasp, but leaned into him, smoothing your hands over his chest and underneath his collar, over his shoulders and back of his neck.

“Hardly… you know when you show me those fangs it’s game over.” Your voice had dropped to a whisper and you trailed your fingers along his jaw now, and over his bottom lip. It quirked into a lopsided grin, flashing those goddamn points at you again.

“I know. But showing so much of that gorgeous skin is cheating too, sweetheart.” With that, Bucky’s hands wandered over your skin, smoothing up your back and pulling the sweater down over your shoulders with a growl. You gasped as he exposed your breasts to the cool air and reached for him, wanting to pull him close. He lifted you up by your hips to sit you on the counter and trailed his mouth down your neck, licking and sucking your exposed nipples into his mouth one at a time. “I was thinking about this all night, do you know how badly I wanted to rip this damn sweater off your shoulders? I almost couldn't stop myself."

Your fingers flew into his hair, lightly scratching his scalp as his attention to your nipples pulled breathy whines from your throat. Each swipe and nibble of his tongue and teeth on your sensitive tips sent a spark straight to your core, you were aching for him already, getting wetter by the second.

“Bucky,” you breathed, needing more of him. He broke away and found your lips again, kissing you hard, grasping the back of your neck and leaning you back. You could feel his hard length pressing into the side of your thigh and you moaned into his mouth, your body clenching in anticipation. You both moved to undo each other’s pants at the same time, hands clashing and fumbling until you were finally successful. Bucky kept one hand clenched in your hair while his other grasped your hip, his mouth still on yours. You squirmed and maneuvered impatiently until his cock was prodding your entrance and he was pushing into you with a groan. A shudder rippled through you from finally having him inside. Bucky rolled his hips and nibbled your throat, his breath fanning across your skin with every thrust.

“Are you sure that I lost, baby? Because this feels like a win to me.” Bucky kissed your mouth again and pulled back enough that you could see his equally blown eyes and kiss-swollen grin.

"Let's call it a draw, we both win." You held his gaze for a beat, feeling your lust melt into pure affection for him for just a moment before he jerked his hips and pounded against that sweet spot deep inside. You cried out and captured his lips desperately, clutching onto him for dear life, enjoying every delicious part of him, before finally breaking away, panting.

"Hell yeah baby."

-----

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[the-headbop-wraith]

3 _ 44 _ Not the Best News

  The light flashed green, but Arthur wasn’t paying attention. The action didn’t quite ignite in his mind, though he was looking right at it. Lost in his thoughts, searching for guidance to connect the now to a future he didn’t understand. Did Lewis not trust him? He didn’t get it.

 A crackle of static burbled through the radio.

 “Lights green.”

 Arthur shivered. “Yeah. Just checking for traffic.” There was no rebuke on that, though the intersection was bare of vehicles aside from one car creeping forward. The town shut down pretty fast following six PM.

 Streetlamps flashed through the windshield at off intervals, flooding black through the van interior. The rose tinge of Lewis eyes glittered, his shape near insubstantial within the periodic dips of flare bursts. Sometimes, Arthur thought he saw the death suit and skull, despite knowing Lewis would not drop his living guise unless his focus broke. It must suck, maintaining that sort of concentration.

 ���Y’know, you don’t have to look that way around me,” Arthur admitted. “I actually don’t mind Sir Bones Esquire.” Lewis generated a sound, but he couldn’t place if it was a hiss or static.

 “I prefer to look not like I crawled out of a grave,” he muttered. The face didn’t move, but the shimmering ember shifted to check Arthur. “Thanks for the offer.”

 Arthur shrugged his shoulder. “I try and keep the board clear. Whatever works for you, I’m game.” It wasn’t resentment, it was something else seeping off of Lewis.

 “You too,” Lewis uttered. He leaned back a little in the seat and crossed his arms. “You got a lot on your mind. You wanna, I dunno, talk?”

 Arthur sniffled. “Not really. It’s, well….” He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Maybe later, I gotta tell you some things. Not bad or anything, but it’s pretty heavy. I might… y’know, never mind. That pizza was heckin’ good. How many times did you burn ‘em.” The radio sputtered.

 “Five, I think….”

 “Awesome.” Arthur pulled into the carport for Kingsman Mechanics. The lights were all out, the parking lot empty; the space barren, but for the vehicles dropped. He climbed out of the driver side and shut the door. On the other side, Lewis swept through the grill of the van in a swell of light and embers.

 “Dude, c’mon,” he uttered. “Don’t risk the gas tank.”

 “It’s ethereal fire,” Lewis rasped. “Absolutely harmless.” He walked with Arthur to the front doors, the keys already twinkling.

 “Hard to tell with you.” Arthur slotted one key, then the next. Until, Lewis brought his hand close, sparking a smoldering ember at his palm. Arthur jolted. “Shit! Warning, next time.”

 “Siento.” At the entrance Lewis waited, while Arthur popped inside and gave the building a brief exploration. Within seconds, Arthur returned and beckoned.

 When exiting out the entrance corridor, Arthur flicked a switched on the panel and activated the lights throughout the main work floor. “Okay, the boxes are upstairs by the door of my work room. Stacked. I meant to grab them, it didn’t happen. You can’t miss them.” The details dropped, he skittered out of Lewis company, sprinting across the work floor.

 “Where are you going?”

 “Need parts for my arm. I was kinda in a hurry, excited I was gonna get out of here before Viv started texting me. I didn’t want her to worry.” He spun around, throwing a finger gun Lewis’ way. “I’ll be up in a sec.”

 “What else did you forget?” Lewis departed on his alternate route to the dark corridor, leading to the stairway. “Should I grab the kitchen sink, too?”

 After a beat, Arthur called back in a sharp whisper, “It couldn’t hurt.”

 The worktable was as he left it, which was what he liked. He pulled open the drawer where he kept a sturdy case for the tools he routinely transported in or out, depending on his schedule. There was a specific method for undoing the clasps without the aid of a second arm, it was a little awkward to do since it required the use of his knee. It mostly kept the case stationary while he pried up the latch, but his movement was so practiced it took a mere five seconds. In a smaller drawer beneath the table surface, he kept the soldering wands for minute detail work. If he could, he wanted to get the remedial delicate stuff. It was simple enough, but tedious—

 Crack!

 Arthur jolted and whipped around, instincts on high alert. His eyes flashed around the room, studying the vehicles left prepared for tomorrow’s shift, the rotary lifts and supply carts spaced throughout the work floor. What was that? It was loud, the clamor reverberated through the hollow garage, emphasizing isolation and a prowling threat.

 “Um… Uncle?” he called. No response. Not good. Arthur reached behind him and clenched a wrench. “Who’s there?” He didn’t risk calling the name of the one that should be, but the fact an answer was NOT forthcoming was worst of all. It was okay. It would be okay. He took a breath and crept forward, moving behind a small car and checking through the windows – searching through the tinted glass for an amateur hasting to relocate amidst his momentary ‘distraction’. The silence peeled apart his senses, he should pick up someone breathing or even their deepest thoughts. Was anything missing? He couldn’t tell, and it wouldn’t matter. Someone was here, he was certain.

 After taking a short trip around the work floor, he scurried to a far wall and set the wrench down on a table, then jammed a fist into his vest pocket. Before his fingers could grasp at his phone, the hair on his nape prickled, spurring him to whip about. With a yelp, he backpedaled from the hulking shape. His yelp was more of a ‘YEEE!’ and his retreat sent him staggering, when he brushed against the corner of the desk.

 “Who the fack?! Hey—” He tumbled to the floor, as the shape snatched at the wrench abandoned upon the table. He rolled until his arm was situated under him, and sprung onto his feet. “Who the—” His voice sputtered, the wrench gave a menacing CLANG! upon skipping across the concrete floor.

 At first, he did believe in his heart that this was Lewis. In the dark and sinister parts of his memories, Arthur believed that the spirit had crept down to invoke some cruel ploy to torment him. But as the shape swept through the dull glow of light, he could cleanly distinguish that this was a grunting, breathing, agitated man in a mask. The intruder person kept weaving in and swiping for his arm, intent on incapacitating him through crude means. A shame that Arthur was much too spry and hardwired for evasion, the vandal didn’t expect such resistance either.

 The irony of everything, that a masked person would intrude in the shop and assault him. What the hell? He got enough of this crap on rando assignments, this was break from that drama. So much for that fantasy.

 Did something crash, elsewhere? Oh boy, oh shit!

 “Man, you don’t wanna do this!” Arthur vaulted over the hood of a van and zipped around the side. The big guy was quick too, though not as agile. He huffed and puffed, pursuing like a bear on honey. “You really don’t wanna! I’m warning you! Yikes!” With a lunge he crashed to the floor - he cleared the table, but got snagged by an impact drill and its cord. “YOU! You’re getting into some bad shit!” He screamed bloody murder and scrambled to his feet. The intruder hauled up a whole muffle and swung it down – cracked the concrete and missed his foot by an inch.

 Arthur sprang one way, then the other around a small convertible. Intruder followed, swishing the muffler like a damn katana. In a risky slide, he dove by and scrambled to one of the rotary lifts with a jeep suspended. He shimmied up one tower and clambered through the vacant side door, scarcely hauling his legs out of the way before Intruder with muffler could swing and knock his knees off.

 “I’m tellin’ you! You gotta leave,” Arthur went on, speech breaking. A fleeting glance surveyed the room, but established no sign of eyes or fury. Still time before this guy got cooked. “For your own—” The muffler collided with the arch of the jeep and the jointed pipe glanced his shoulder. The world twisted as he toppled backwards, and off the hood of the jeep. It was oddly reminiscent of those dreams, the nightmares. He knew what came next.

 Unexpectantly, his body collided with a stack of empty boxes.

 The masked intruder gulped down cold air, more excited than winded through the exertion. They glanced around, where was it? In all the ruckus, their mind blanked on where they dumped it. Turning, they spied something that made them abandoned the search cold turkey. This was entirely due to the large hand snagging their shoulder, and flinging them like a doll. Heat and an overwhelming scent of char clouded their senses, dissipating only when they descended from the short flight.

 The trajectory sent them on a collision course for a flatbed cart, which they tumbled off and skidded across the floor. They didn’t stop, barely checking that their legs remained connected to their spine before retreating from the scene. Exit! Escape! Where was the way out! As they fled, they patted at their sleeve and mask, embers scored their clothing – The hell? The intruder was unable to make sense of where they went, and crashed into a work bench. With admirable grace, they recovered, a pronounced limp following; metal parts and tools clanged in a cacophony of symphony across the floor. They kept going, not chancing a look back and barely examining the area through the sparks dazzling their eyes.

 Posed from throwing whoever that was, skull and death suit, eyes blazing, and fire still crackling at his ribs. Lewis would have given chase and done some real damage; there might’ve been something like self-control, perhaps even a capture if he was feeling generous. However, he couldn’t detect Arthur, and the figure buried under boxes was unresponsive to all the horrendous business afoot. He was not playing possum; Arthur couldn’t fool him.

 “Arthur?” his tone withered, and became distorted. He glided closer to the comatose figure and towered, gazing down. With hesitance and some second thoughts, he reached down slowly—

 Right through the heart he’s shot! A full slug punched directly through his facade and tore the locket clear off his coat front. WOW. What a mistake that was. Lewis twitched, fists clenched tightly at his sides. The last time he felt a sensation like that, it was after falling a considerable amount and choking on his last breath. He could almost feel the heavy tempo of a heartbeat fade out a second time.

 HE

 DID

 NOT

 LIKE

 THAT

 Directly behind Lewis at a two-meter pace, Uncle Lance stood with a rifle, barrel smoking. It was a good and clean hit, the gray wall on the other side visible through the incision torn through. He waited, uncertain what should happen next. The thing in front of him, how could it be described? It looked vaguely man-like, it had the shape of a person. Except for the ‘head’, and the gap above the open collar where a neck should occupy.

 Lewis cocked his head and let his skull swivel, peering back. Another igniting thunderclap, and the spirit snapped around fully, cowering. Fist trembling beside his hip.

 “Yu step back from m’boy, ya reject Hall-oh-ween Deck-ARATION!” Lance gave the rifle a crank and took aim. As he watched, the vacant hole in the torso filled in with a strange, glossy light. The chunk in the shoulder sizzled, and what looked like fire crackled over the rich color of the suit. A skull and suit; a very malevolent and pissed looking skull. “YA HEAR!”

 Terrible and antagonistic ruminations boiled through Lewis’ consciousness. An endless fall, the impact – mind fractured and every piece of his body dislocated. Shadows sweeping in, swirling around that bent figure high-high above, and the jewel glittering at the center of its sneer. Wild, unruly cackles clattered across the walls of the abyss, mocking his pain. Drinking up the agony spilling across the sharpened stalagmites, as every ounce of care and thought drained away.

 He glided toward the attacker, taking another bullet seamlessly in the abdomen. Ribs next, splintering – each patch of destruction inflicted, vanished in a swell of heat conjured by his blazing soul. The pieces and sharp fragments of Lewis fitted back, reworking a bizarre pattern of that day many-many moons ago. Rising, the bitter aversion for this betrayal. Abandoned, isolation and pitiless grief that followed. The loneliness, and sense of loss saturating his very essence. Corrupting, robbing him of warmth and tenderness, replacing everything with whispers and fire. Another piercing bolt, to his lower arm – a wild shot. Panic infused.

 Someone was very deserving of all this pain. It would feel better to share it, cleave a sliver loose. Release a portion of that fury threatening to boil over like a raging, scalding tsunami. Let them feel a taste of the bitterness that plagued him.

 As the thing approached ominously – clear malevolence burned in the pits of the skulls eye sockets – Lance became steadily more alarmed. There had to be a way to stop it. Someway, he had to put an end to it. But it was apparent brute force wouldn’t do it in. He backed away, nearly colliding with a supply cart.

 “Stop!” he snarled. “You can’t do that! No! S’not possible! I won’t believe it!” The next projectile tore through the apparition’s center, but before the echo faded the gaping breach vanished. Lance buckled backwards, gun dry. “ARGH! What are yu made of!”

 The rifle swept from his grip and the spirit hosted him up by the front of his vest, yanking him clear off his feet. It glared into him with those intense, blazing embers bristling deep within the cavernous eye sockets. “The souls of the innocent….” Lewis wound back an arm, fingers twitching—

 “A bagel?”

 Lewis froze. “Artie!” He dumped Lance and whipped around, shooting to the cluster of busted boxes. Before he could lean down, he hesitated – the lights about the work station flashed. “What… happened? I, uh… you’re hurt.” Arthur was sitting up, holding his neck and quivering under the drill of pain in his head. It was vibrant, he could almost feel it in his own skull.

 “Honest, I don’t… remember. Oof.” His hand reached over and touched the empty spot of his shoulder.

 The confusion was apparent, as well. Lewis needed to wait and see what Arthur came forward with. It might confuse Arthur if he bombarded him with questions, or prompts; he didn’t get a good view of the whole scene. Aside from the flush of rage that compelled his reaction. This couldn’t be rushed, and the other needed time to adjust and come around. Especially since Arthur appeared uncertain of what happened, despite his poor negotiations.

 “Did you… try to dump me off somewhere? High?” Now, Arthur peered up at the looming shadow. He couldn’t gather much of Lewis’ features, aside from a towering silhouette and the heated fuchsia orbs peering down. It was super unnerving. “That seems like somethin’ you’d do. Fuk… m’back.”

 Lewis smashed a fist into his palm. “That person! This guy!” A puff of flame sparked at his collar, and the embers in his skull snapped into hostile pinpoints. “I don’t know what happened, but he threw something. And then, you FELL! It – uh, I thought….” His speech sputtered into harsh screeches, staccato and hard to distinguish.

 “I’ll go ahead and take your word on— No, wait. I don’t remember some guy.” Arthur flinched, his head ached too. “I remember running, and I know I was scared shitless.” Lewis gawked down at him, for once it was endearing and mortified despite circumstances. “Some… guy?”

 “In a mask?” Lewis cocked his skullish brow.

 Arthur nodded. Ooh. Hurt. “That I remember, I think. Fuck… damn. You didn’t go after him?”

 “You. FELL.”

 Arthur pinched his brow. “Okay. Shut up. You… I can barely understand you. What? I’m the one that—” He withered, trapped in place by the barrier of boxes bent around him. The barbaric cry could terrify morally questionable crocodiles.

 The wild and furious snarl was Lance’s doing. He crept in closer to the spirit with his arms outstretched and two fingers locked together forming a significant and easy to recognize T. Or X. No, it was a definitely a T. A crucifix, like in the movies.

 “Evil… BOO! I banish yu!” Lance scooted in closer, edging out around at an imaginary tether which directed him toward Arthur. Determination in his eyes and sweat on his brow, his beard frazzled, that glare did not loosen from the invading spirit. “I don’t believe in this spook fun house nan-sense, but I’ll not have yur sort here terrorizing my kid!”

 A touch annoyed Lewis drooped. He debated straight up punching Lance’s lights out or stuffing him in a car trunk. Anything to get him out of the way, if only for a couple minutes. They didn’t need this.

 Arthur groaned. Everything was loud and annoying, it wasn’t just Lewis. His grumbling kicked up into a theatrical scream, “A g-g-ghost! Here! You’d better leave, disgruntled… apparition? Fuk, I don’t have the pharmacy enough for this bullshit.” He leaned to the side, moaning. “I mean, eeek! Argh! Spirit! You had better leave, before… I dunno, you’re banished by my dear Uncle’s very clear, um… exorcism. Or whatever he’s doing. OOoooOOooOOOOOoooohhhh….” Under his breath, he spat, “For fuk’s sake, you’re compelled to obey!”

 Lewis crossed his arms and leaned a little away from Lance. “Yeaaahhhh, gunna hit that up with a hard no. Not really in the mood, capiche?” He glowered directly down on Lance, right at his face with gloved hands outstretched with that ridiculous T. “Stop that or I’ll give you something to bitch about.”

 Arthur took a sharp breath. “Why do you hafta be so pissy?” Everything. HURT.

 “Stop with the language, and I might consider an attitude adjustment.”

 Arthur screwed his eyes shut. “Uncle Lance, that’s not gunna work.”

 Lance fizzled out. “Ehh.” He gawked at the skull, and the skull glared back. For the life of him, he could not begin to figure how it was suspended there. “Then… what will work?” He shuffled the remainder of the way to Arthur and crouched down, protectively. His gaze never wavered from the hostile… it was a ghost, wasn’t it? “What d’we do? How d’yu get rid of it?”

 “We don’t get rid of HIM,” Lewis huffed, pointing at Lance. “HE gets an ice pack for Arthur. Keep an eye on him.” In a flash of sparks, Lewis vanished – the extinguished cinder formed an outline before the ash hit the floor.

 The unexpected flare forced Lance to recoil, more from the vibrancy than any anticipated retribution. Once the haze faded, he searched around. No sound, no evidence of the spirits presence – aside from that familiar burning. That wasn’t important, what was important was Arthur.

 “Yu’re the expert. Is there… a pesteecide? Tell me, and I’ll get it done.”

 Arthur struggled to get up. “It’s a….” He flopped back, it was worse than a ballpit, made worse by the throbbing in his head and shoulders. He could remember up to the jeep, then it all got somewhat fuzzy. Lance assisted in easing him off the crumpled mold of his shape, nice and easy, careful not to rush. “He’s like a thorn bur, you try plucking it off and you’ll get third-degree burns.”

 Lance blinked. “WHAT?! Is that whut happened to your neck?!”

 This was not needed right now. And the guy, their mysterious assailant. Where was he now? Arthur couldn’t debate it out too hard, though some of the ache was fading, subsiding into a monotonous drum. He groaned in his throat.

 Then, on the floor. He noticed it beside one of the crushed boxes, snowed in by packing peanuts. The cracked locket. Despite dislocation, it persisted to pulse in time with the throbbing in his ears.

 “Shit-shit!” He scrambled out of Lance’s grip and snatched the thing up; it took a beating by the looks. The hinge creaked and unexpectantly the door swung open, threatening to pop off. Cursing, he struggled to hold it one handed without the whole thing coming apart. Without meaning too, he saw within. There was a photograph. He inched down, squinting at the textures and shapes, trying to make sense of what was there. He didn’t know there was—

 A dark hand snapped the locket from Arthur’s grasp and shut it. He bristled. Lewis had returned. The spirit looked downright sinister, as he set the ashen artifact back to his chest.

 “I didn’t—” Lance grabbed Arthur and heaved him back. Lance’s valiant efforts halted, when Lewis unceremoniously shoved him off. An icebag settled on Arthur’s head.

 Lewis knelt on one knee, one hand loaded with supplies. “I’ll invoke my deeply nefarious plot for revenge at a later time. When you’re fixed and patched, and likely better apt to outrun me.” He adjusted the last few items in his hand, by tucking a water bottle into the crook of his arm and twisting open a pill bottle. “You get one of these.” He set aside the pill bottle and popped the cap on the water bottle, enough to break the seal.

 Sprawled on his back, Lance observed with a perplexity beyond known rational. “Okay. What is goin’ on ‘ere?” He moved upright and jabbed out a hand toward the spirit. “What is this thing, really?”

 Lewis glared. “Rude.”

 Arthur swallowed the pill and took the water bottle. “It’s not the strong stuff.” Rather sip, he pressed the chilled bottle to his neck.

 “The strong stuff will put you in a coma, and as much as I’d prefer that, I need you awake for awhile. It’s a concussion, not a concession.”

 “Mmm, I’m lovin’ the bedside manner. You’re such a dish.” He took a sip and let the water warm before he swallowed. “Oof.”

 “Thank you for noticing, I’ve been wor—”

 “What in blazes is goin’ on!” Lance exploded, figuratively. “Arthur Kingsman! Explain! Should I call a priest, a medic! Or… what! What m’I suppose to do? Yu’n Viv-vi dealt with this’n supernatural mischief! Professionally! I can’t have these….” He jabbed a hand the spirits way, grasping for words, “…these critters, creeping into my shop! I need somethin’!”

 Arthur hung his head and sipped more water. On the sideline stood Lance tapping his foot, veins popped on his face. This was such a mess he wasn’t sure what to say or do, where to begin. “I need another pill.”

 “No,” Lewis grated.

 “Arthur,” Lance grumbled, tone stern but considerably nerfed since the eruption. “Tell me somethin’. What am I supposed to do here? I wan tu help.”

 “It’s me, Uncle Lance. Lewis Pepper.” Arthur choked on the water he was sipping. “You shot me, by the way.” Arthur made a sound, but if it was human or not was the riddle. “Maybe don’t inhale….”

 Lance stiffened; teeth clenched. For a full minute he didn’t say a word, but his sturdy outline quaked. “No!”

 “Well,” Lewis chattered, “You didn’t… kill me, I’ll give you that. Don’t worry. But you did shoot me, like, twenty times.”

 “It was four!”

 “Whatever.” The Lewis spirit fixed Lance with his scalding ember eyes, not looking pleased. And there was some familiarity in that expression, despite how feral and agitated it was now. Despite it being a bleached skull, lacking traditional and easily mapped expression.  “It didn’t feel nice.”

 “Impossible! Yu can’t be Lewis!” Lance stamped a foot. “Yu are not Lewis! That dusn’t work!”

 Arthur exhaled, catching the attention of both. “Can you not shout?” He pinched the water bottle in his arm crook and adjusted the ice bag on his neck, before it slid off. “He’s Lewis, okay? He’s not alive, but he is Lewis. We sort of… Viv-vi and I, ran across him awhile back.” How to explain THAT mess! “He was there, and we had car trouble….”

 “Funny story,” Lewis broke in. “Thrilling in a lot of ways. Quite the adventure.”

 “No! No-no-no-no-no- no-no-no-no! And NO!” Lance swung his arms out, declaring, “Lewis Pepper is dead, gone! He’s never coming back! You said so yuserlf! Yu and Viv-vi, you kids gotta let that go.”

 Arthur face palmed against the water bottle. Oh boy.

 Lewis rose to his full height, was it possible he made himself taller? He became a looming, malevolent shadow with piercing eyes. “And maybe I don’t want to let them go. Have ya ever thought of that? Uncle Lance?”

 Arthur dumped everything and leapt up. He caught Lewis by the tie. “That’s it! I’m calling time out!” To Lance, “Uncle, this is Lewis! He’s dead, it’s a long story, and it is my— ”

 “A bitch!”

 “You! Lew? What’s gotten into you?”

 Lewis hunched over placing his skull inches from Arthur’s face. “He. SHOT. Me!”

 “And? You can’t feel it!”

 “It hit me right in the feels! Nineteen times!”

 Lance hooted, “It was four, ya dumb spook!” He flinched when Lewis looked his way, eye sockets flooded thick with flames flickering. “I don’t BELIEVE in this bogus heebie-jeevies! Why d’I hafta look at it, when I don’t believe in it? This ain’t right!”

 “That’s offensive,” Lewis shrieked, “I don’t appreciate your tone!”

 A ringing chimed loud and brilliant in the momentary calm amid the fury of the storm. Arthur staggered away, first jamming a hand into his pocket and realized his phone wasn’t there. Of course she would call. They were super fucking late, they should’ve been back days ago.

 Arthur pushed through the office doorway and fumbled for the light. In his alarm, he forgot it was on the side of his left arm. He gave up, and went straight to the buzzing receiver on the desk.

 “Lords, I hope they don’t kill each other….” He shifted around and checked out the doorway. “Or, I hope Lewis doesn’t— Viv-vi! HEY!” The icepack was sorely missed. “No, everything’s fine. What, uh… gave you that idea? What about my voice?”

 Lance squeezed into the office, rifle in hand. “It doesn’t belong ‘ere. End of discussion.”

 Lewis hung in the doorway, eyes flashing and flames swelling off his shoulders. He was going to ignite something. The whole shop would implode, just like the mansion. “I’ll tell you what doesn’t belong here! We need to exorcise that nasty attitude! See how you like it!”

 Arthur pulled the phone from his ear and fitted the mouthpiece into his palm. “WHY! Did you two follow me.” He shoved the phone to his shoulder. “No! We, er… yu see what happened here, we’ll— I really can’t explain. I need an adult.”

 Lance reached for the phone. “Lemme talk to her!”

 Arthur sprang back, holding the phone high above his head. “No!”

 “Te satisfaría? If I show you? Arthur, I need a mirror.”

 Arthur climbed onto the desk, screeching into the phone, “Vivi, for the love of holy doughnuts, please come here, asap! I don’t care if someone sees Mystery! You! Here! NOW!” He slammed the phone down and scrambled off the desk, completely losing his footing in the process and nearly faceplanting. “Can you both NOT SCREAM bloody murder for two minutes! Five minutes? S’all I’m asking!”

 After that outburst, both Lance and Lewis clamped up. Arthur shoved his way out the door past Lewis, and crossed the floor back to where he abandoned the ice bag and water. He plopped down on the ground with his back to them, his lone hand fastened to his springy hair, and wilted.

 “Fuck.” Lewis swayed, drawing a hand up to the front of his suit. He eased a ways out beyond the portal but paused, once more fiddling with his tie. To the side, Lance was inching out.

 The look on Arthur’s face, he’d never seen an expression on his nephew quite like it. Except when…. Lance’s first instinct was get to him, the lad was distraught – the intuition an understatement – Arthur needed… a word. Support. But an arm slashed through his path, stalling the reflexive drive. He nearly refuted the action, the protest was on the tip of his tongue. But something snatched the words away, his throat became dry. For the first time in a long time, he was at a loss.

 Given the chance to observe the spirit – as it were – a moment to examine the features, it’s strangeness; a sense of familiarity soaked into him. When it wasn’t glaring or coiled up, he could get the feel for something else. Like a shadow stamped into the world he understood, a vivid memory of someone he could easily recognize from a distance. An unmistakable figure, distinct from a crowd. This… thing, it looked nothing like Lewis Pepper, but the gait it carried, the movement of its arms, it was unmistakable. Somehow, he knew this… thing, but dissension saturated the connection, and its presence was disjointed. It wasn’t alive, yet it was here. Most important of all, it wasn’t going away.

 “You, uh… I think he’ll be fine.” When Lance spoke, the smoldering returned. It did NOT like him. So, what was it? What, not who. It couldn’t be…. “I’m… gunna sit down, fer a bit.”

 Lance left for the breakroom and made himself a pot of coffee. When he returned from the recess, pot in hand and a stack of Styrofoam cups; Arthur was still seated far from the office, but updated to a stack of boxes that bore his weight. He gave a brief nonintrusive examination, only to confirm he was still breathing and not in any sort of apparent pain. From there, he went to the office to clear his thoughts and keep an eye on the area.

 The lights hadn’t been turned on at all, and he almost forgot about the… thing. In the shroud, he nearly missed it seated at one of the chairs facing the desk, eyes aglow, the faint shimmer of its stylish hair. It sat arms crossed tightly, one leg slanted over the other. It didn’t respond when Lance entered.

 “I think you have a story to share.” Lance sat one cup in front of the spirit and poured some coffee. The spirit refused to acknowledge his presence, and almost appeared photographic in its uncanny stillness; it wouldn’t even look at him. He reached over the side of his desk and pried open a drawer, and from the drawer, pulled up a small tray with containers of sweetener and nondairy creamers. “You a lil sour? What’s up?” He poured a cup for himself and blew at the harsh steam. “Not doin’ nothin’ but broodin’.”

 There was a change in the spirit. The gleaming eyes were now locked on the white cup steaming in front of it.

 “I don’t understand how this works,” Lance admitted. He plucked up the dislocated phone from the desk and set it back to the receiver. “Am I supposed t’say a special codeword? Is there a ritual, an uh… Ouiguh board.” The lamp on his desk flickered, came on, and then the bulb popped in a firework splash. Lance winced, sharply withdrawing his hand. Okay, what the FUCK. “Did yu do that?”

 “Not on purpose.” Praise the stars, it spoke. “Check on Arthur.”

 He wasn’t certain if that was a hint, or a direct command. “Juz did. He’s fine. This is mah office, by the way.” He managed to get a sip of his coffee. “I won’t harass him with this, not now. And I won’t wait for Vivi-vi. Before we get tu this…. Yu say a person….”

 “Guy in a mask.”

 “All right.” Lance nodded. “Before we pop that can of worms, before any of that. You’re here. I’ll go so far as admit that. But,” he gestured vaguely. “How did this happen?” Those vibrant eyes flicked up to him.

 “It’s complicated.”

 “Hmm. Don’t like t’way you said that.”

 “Funny. I could care less what you think.”

 Lance took another sip, and set his cup down. “Listen. Ghost Lewis.”

 “Just Lewis,” the spirit had a wispy, sometimes airy way of speaking. The voice didn’t come from it, which made sense, because it didn’t have a mouth. “I’m still Lewis. The only difference, I lost custody of the body.” He huffed, and a bright flame flashed from its neck collar. Lance leaned back in his chair, uncertain what to make of… everything.

 “Lewis, then.” He moved his line of sight out of the office, once more checking on Arthur. “Y’know Arthur’s m’boy, and I won’t have yu tormentin’ him.”

 For a few minutes Lance sat, mulling through a history he thought was sheltered away in the deep parts of his memories where he preferred not to dwell. His fingers pressed tighter around the defenseless cup in his grasp, the warmth seeped through the insulated material and into the thick gloves he wore. The white of the cup cut through the bleak patterns of the gloom, reminding him of the brightest sheets he’d ever seen – specks of crimson and brown, where the bandages couldn’t stifle the work to recreate a shoulder. Arthur delirious and agonized, unaware that he was maimed as badly as he was. The details were unattainable, shattered and cast out a window. Nothing helped, no amount of medication.

 Something happened. Vivi lost her memory. It was awful. Mystery was gone, vanished entirely like a… well. Arthur was beyond consoling, overrun by trauma, nearly splint in two. There was no way to construct a complete narrative, aside from it being a terrible Accident. Irreversible. Lewis never came back, and Arthur insisted that would never change. And they had to accept that.

 If he held the Styrofoam cup any tighter, it would spill all over his desk. Lance rubbed at his face, trying to quell his thoughts. Those nightmares kept him up some nights, but he was a master of not showing on the worst days. Arthur had enough to deal with, and apparently more so these days. He sighed, still refusing to raise his gaze to the thing seated across from him, trying to dwell on the mystery of how it could be so devoid of warmth despite what looked like an ember wavering near its shoulder. He tried once more:

 “He’s said some things I don’t fully grasp, admitted stuff I don’t have a full spectrum or insight intu.” He rubbed a thumb over the rim of the cup, gazing into the dark depths of the liquid within. “‘E’s been through enough, he’s regretted t’things that happen’. Losin’ you… I don’t even think he realized ‘iz arm was gone, not until—”

 “Uncle Lance.” It was almost heartening, the way the spirit – Ghost Lewis. Just Lewis – persisted to refer to him as Uncle, same as his friends. The same way he did when alive. “I lost my life, and all of that had a negative effect on me, on my… prospect for living, and being.” The spirit moved, uncoiling his arms and gently caressed the vibrating heart at its chest. “It’s a topic we try not to touch on. I tend to stray far away from it all.”

 How easy it touched upon the subject of its demise, as if it was all a matter of inconvenience. Was it meant to comfort him? Lance took a sip. “Juz curious, but… was there plans to… accept and reconcile, or something?” The eyes narrowed at him and the bristling embers constricted into a needle point dot.

 “What are you getting at, now?”

 Lance blew at the steam in his cup. The eyes of the spirit flashed, agitated by something, some unknown insult. “I’m not getting’ why your still ‘round. Aren’t spooks supposed to do’n the, is it the crop circle thing?”

 Lewis cocked a rigid eyebrow. “Cross… over? No. Nope, it’s not a requirement for certain cases.”

 “I have a suspicion that there’s more tu it than—” Without warning, Lewis bolted up from the seat – the flash of movement shocked Lance, in that it was vacuum less and silent. Only the light dousing out, as Lewis’ wide shoulders zipped out the doorway. The embers once swirling his space extinguished altogether, plunging the room into total darkness.

 The catalyst must’ve been the racketing dog yaps, which entered onto the work floor. Soon after there was Vivi, racing over to the middle of the room and dashing her eyes around. Mystery was her guide, leading directly to the side wall where Arthur had remained hunched over. Arthur gave her the barest attention when she reached his side and leaned low. An exchange of words followed. Then, Vivi raised her sight to the office doorway.

 Without a word, Lewis approached the group, arms clasped behind his back. When Lance emerged from his quarters fully and the light ensnared him, Vivi set her eyes upon him, and they became saucers. In retrospect, it did explain some things, though not nearly enough if Lance was honest. Something about all this didn’t settle right, and at the core of this drama was his boy, Arthur. If he couldn’t enlist Vivi’s aid in this, he might have to pursue other drastic means. But it wouldn’t work to be reckless. Being reckless is what nearly got him socked in the face, by something that claimed to be Lewis Pepper.

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 6

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~6,400

Warnings: Spitting (Kind of)

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

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Lilah stared at the picture in front of her, memorizing the details of the staff. It was made of wood, intricately carved, and kept in a glass case.  The stand it sat upon was very likely pressurized, any change in weight would set off the alarm. There were no heat sensors in the display room, but there were motion sensors and a steady rotation of guards. Not super tricky, but not child’s play.

“Do you have blueprints of the building?” she asked, eyes looking to Brasa.

She’d been careful in how she looked at him for the entire meeting, not wanting to give away how she could still feel his lips ghosting across her skin. Though she hadn’t shared any more dreams with him, Lilah couldn’t keep her mind from going over how nice it felt to have his weight on her, how his hands (which she later realized were gloveless) felt as they coasted over her body.

“I do,” he replied, gesturing to Javier.

They were sitting in the vast room that served as Brasa’s office. Seth was standing next to the desk, going over the staffing schedule. Like most businesses, they had set shifts. Also like most businesses, their turnover rate was fairly high—the pay was definitely not enough to hold on to the more experienced or more talented staff.  This, of course, was all good for them.

Richie was sprawled in the chair next to her, “We got any of those explosives left?”

Lilah glanced at him, “Why? You want to blow a hold in the floor, drop the staff and its stand through to the bottom, and haul ass out through the sewer system?”

He smiled, lifting a shoulder, as if she’d perfectly described his thoughts. She took the blueprints from Javier and checked them over to see if they could make that work.

“As fun as that would be,” Lilah said, “and it would be pretty fun, the building doesn’t have an underground tunnel, sewer or otherwise. The foundation is too thick for that.”

“Well, damn,” Richie drawled, “Guess we’ll have to go with the old smash and grab.”

That wasn’t a bad idea, but Lilah hated to bring that kind of attention to them. It would not only set off the alarm, but the police station was less than three blocks away. Not a lot of time for their getaway. Better to do this nice and clean.

“Again, totally a fun idea, but not a smart one.”

Seth stood up, rubbing at the back of his neck, “Looks like we got about a half hour rotation for security. Plenty of time.”

It was plenty of time. There was no safe to crack, just a series of security measures to override. In some ways, that was more tricky. Lilah stared at the blueprints, her brain running over options.

“We’ll need a key card,” Richie prompted, sitting up and resting his forearms on his knees, “If we can get that, and the six digit passcode, we should be able to disable the system with no problem.”

She cut a look at him, “You have any ideas about how we can go about getting the card and code?”

He laughed, “Yeah.”

“Care to share with the class?”

“Knock out a guard, take the key card,” he explained, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, “There’s only one on-site during the evening hours.”

Not the worst plan.  To be fair, that was usually how their plans started out. Still, it left something to be desired.

“And the code?” She prompted lightly, setting the blueprints down on the desk in front of her.

“Oh, we’d threaten him first. Get the code that way.”

She blinked, “And if he’s lying.”

He paused, “Alright, we try the code first, then knock them out.”

Too messy.

Lilah gathered the photos she’d discarded in her lap and set them on the desk by the blueprints, “Maybe we get the code a couple days before, then wait until the gap in the rotation, break in, take the staff, and walk out.”

Richie smiled wide, “And, how do we get the code beforehand?”

That was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? They were lucky the codes didn’t roll over randomly—just one code assigned to each guard and used whenever they were on shift. Low maintenance, but high risk for this kind of location.

Seth crossed his arms, “Richie, you still got a couple of those tiny cameras laying around?”

Richie had bought about a hundred of these little cameras for ‘security purposes’, putting them around the bar. The move had paid off when they caught one of the bartenders taking some extra cash from the till at the end of shift. He’d never let Seth forget about it.

“Yeah, I got a few.”

“Alright,” Seth said as he braced his hands on the desk, “Lilah, you’ll going in and plant one of them in  the line of sight of the keypad. We’ll monitor until we get the passcodes.”

Lilah observed him with a wry smile, “Look at you, making your way into the future.”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled, “Don’t get used to it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied dryly, her smile holding. It would take an act of God to get Seth to relinquish his way of doing things. Despite having an actual sun god in the room, Lilah was doubtful that she could get him to budge.

She rolled up the blueprints and handed them back to Javier with a nod of gratitude. He smiled wide at her, the expression self-satisfied. From across the desk, Brasa stood a little too quickly, a little growl cut off at the back of this throat.

“It seems you have this all in hand,” he said, a little too formally. “Lilah, I have the response to your edits in my personal library. If you’ll follow me.”

He turned and walked off towards a wall on the far side, hands tapping out a series of numbers on a pad situated on the wall. The smooth surface clicked open, and he pulled on it to reveal a hidden doorway. Impatiently, he looked back at her, a little nod indicating that she should hurry up.

With a click of her tongue, Lilah made her way towards him, moving through the doorway and into an incredibly dark hall. When Brasa pulled the door shut behind them, there was nothing to guide her way. Lilah felt her lungs draw in a shaky breath as she struggled to see. He stepped up and around her, taking her hand.

Lilah didn’t like the way she gripped the leather, didn’t like that she couldn’t see what was ahead. Still, she followed him until he slowed, the sound of keys being entered into a pad signaling that they’d come upon their destination.

When the door opened, he pulled her into a room that was lit with warm amber light. She blinked, her eyes adjusting. She knew this room. She knew the color of the walls, the texture of the ceiling, the feeling of the bed that dominated the space.

Already knowing the answer to the question, she asked, “Whose room is this?”

“Mine,” he replied, already moving to the far side and through an open door.

Lilah followed, feeling out of place. Awkwardly, she stood in the doorway and looked around the smaller, cozier room. Cast in dark wood and soft, sumptuous fabrics, the room was lined entirely with bookcases—floor to ceiling—that were absolutely stuffed with books.

Curious, she moved along the shelves nearest to her, hand skimming the tomes. There were languages she recognized and many that she didn’t. Her hands itched to pull them from the stacks and thumb through them. She wondered how long he had been collecting books, and how many of them filled this relatively small space.

At the center of the room was an overstuffed couch that sat opposite a desk with a computer and files scattered over it. Brasa was gathering paper and slipping it into one such folder, shoulders tense.

Lilah regarded him carefully, “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t spare her a look, tossing the file down and reaching for another, “I’m fine.”

“Yuh huh,” she said, “Seriously, what’s up with you? Five minutes ago, you were fine. Now, you’re...abusing office supplies.”

His expression, when he looked up at her, was incredulous, “What?”

“You’re throwing around files like they did something to you,” she couldn’t keep the laugh out of her voice.

His face hardened, and she could see the irises of her his eyes flicker. Lilah crossed her arms, waited. She’d found that if she waited a moment, he’d usually answer her, no matter the question. This seemed a good time to test that theory.

When her, admittedly small, patience ran out, she asked, “You going to tell me, or are you going to pout about it?”

“I’m not pouting,” he shot back, standing to his full height and circling the desk slowly.

She watched him warily, noting how tightly he was wound. He looked ready to lash out, and she was definitely in the line of fire. Irritated by his behavior, she shifted a little on her feet, unable to let it go.

“Well,” Lilah bit out, “You sure as shit aren’t talking about it.”

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Brasa gave a humorless laugh, “You are impossible.”

She sneered, “That’s the second time you’ve told me that. It wasn’t true before, its not true now.”

His glance skittered away, “I realize that this is new for you, but you are walking a thin line.”

Lilah repeated the last three words, her eyes narrowed in confusion, “What the fuck does that mean?”

When his eyes found hers again, there was anger there, and not a little betrayal, “Flirting with other males in front of me is not going to get the response you want.”

She was...still confused. After a few more seconds, she was pissed off. Lilah took a step towards him, her jaw clenched.

“Who the fuck was—you know what? No, that’s not the point. The point is that you think I’m the kind of person who would do something like that to get a rise out of you.” She took a step back, “No, I’m not the asshole, here. You are.” And then, “You can email me the edits, okay?”

Without waiting for an answer, Lilah walked as calmly (and quickly) as she could through his bedroom and out into the hall. In the dark, she cursed lowly and felt her way along until she reached the door, grateful that it was locked from this side and she didn’t have to wait for Brasa to key in the code.

Before she moved back into the office proper, Lilah took a deep breath and schooled her features. Her emotions were oscillating wildly from shock, to incredulity, to anger that burned hot in her belly. She hadn’t done a single thing wrong, and to be accused of...she didn’t even know what, made her want to blow something up. Damn shame that she’d already used all the explosives. Lilah took another calming breath.

With a well placed lie, she managed to get through the next few minutes of packing up. She was careful to keep conversation going on the way home, even stayed at the bar for a drink. Lilah gave nothing away as she quietly seethed. It wouldn’t do any good to vent this kind of frustration—not that she could really tell anyone.  Her personal relationship with Brasa was still secret, and she wasn’t going to upset the delicate balance that she’d set up with a childish outburst—unlike some people.

Lilah spent the evening vowing to hold this grudge as long as she could stand it, her fury remaining at a low simmer in her belly. When her phone vibrated in her pocket, she opened a text message from an unknown sender asking her to talk. She deleted it, focusing on the job she’d been contracted to perform.

Three days later, she was sitting in a van parked a block or so away from the museum, checking the comms.

“Everyone hear me?”

Seth’s voice sounded, “We can hear you. Now, shut up for a minute while I get this lock open.”

They had to do things the old fashioned away for the outer locks on the back door, no key code security measures. Lilah had rolled her eyes at the excited look on Seth’s face as he threw down his lock picks onto the table where they’d rolled out the blueprints Javier had loaned them.

From over the line, she heard Seth make an approving grunt, the sound of the door opening a moment after.

“We’re through the first set of doors.”

Lilah nodded, eyes on the computer in her lap, “Guard is starting his rotation. He’s just left the office.”

“Ten minutes for a full round,” Richie murmured, “I’ve clocked it.”

Again, she nodded, “I started the timer. Get in the office, cut the security feed.”

The museum had upgraded to digital a while back, but their servers only uploaded once an hour. She checked the clock. They had three minutes until upload. She watched Seth and Richie approach the office and bypass it for the server room. Two minutes. They were moving leisurely, almost sauntering through the hall. Wasting time.

“Pick up the pace,” she said.

“We’re on it, princess,” Seth retorted.

“Then get going” Lilah shot back in sing-song. “You’re down to a minute, fifteen seconds.”

On the screen, they found the server, and slipped the USB she’d made for them into the drive. Thirty seconds left. Lilah switched screens, watching the little yellow bar make its way from left to right. Fifteen seconds. The bar went green and she smiled.

“Server’s crashing,” she confirmed lowly. “Get out of there.”

With a salute to a camera that wasn’t recording, Seth grabbed Richie from where he was looking at the electronics, hauling him towards the next checkpoint. They would have to wait until the guard crossed back to the office, turn off the motion sensors, and get the staff out of the case.

That was the tricky part. The case was bolted down to its stand, and they couldn’t risk the sound of a drill alerting the guard.  They’d have to manually unscrew the case, hold down the weight sensor, lift the staff, replace it with the dummy weight, close the case, and get back to the checkpoint before the guard made their next round. Thirty minutes was a long time, but there was a lot to do.

“Guard’s coming,” Lilah warned.

They ducked behind a corner as the guard passed, Richie watching him discreetly. When it was safe, they circled around to the next room where the staff was on exhibit. Motion sensors disabled. On to the case.

Lilah appreciated how efficient they were, when they were focused. Moving as a single unit, they worked their way around the case, wrenches in hand, making quick work of it. Once they had it off, Seth reached into the bag they’d brought with them and held up the staff they’d created as a temporary replacement.

Richie had spent a few hours putting it together, and from a distance it looked pretty good. It would, at least, buy them enough time to get away and make the two hour flight back to Mexico. With any luck, it would be a few days before they figured it out. Lilah didn’t count on it. She’d booked a flight within an hour of when they were going to finish the job. No bags to check. Straight through security and onto the plane.

Lilah watched as Richie slipped a knife over the pressure sensor, his other hand nimbly plucking the staff from the stand. Seth carefully set the replica into place, both men holding very still as Richie pulled the knife free.  After a second or two where both looked to be holding their breath, Richie stuffed the staff into the bag as Seth replaced the case. Screws ratcheted back into place, motion sensors reactivated.

“Don’t forget the camera,” Lilah prompted, laughing when Seth scoffed and spun on his heel, snagging the device and pocketing it on the way down the hall.

“Guard’s on his round,” she whispered, “Get to the hallway. Now.”

Moving quickly, Seth rounded the corner, barely clearing it before the guard stepped into the room. They hustled back the way they came and out into the alley, locking the door behind them. Lilah closed down the computer and threw it in the backseat of the van, turning over the ignition. A few minutes later, the sliding door was opened and both men jumped inside. The van was already moving before they got the door closed again.

“Without a hitch,” Richie drawled as he relaxed in his seat.

Seth smiled at his brother, “That was good work.”

“We’re not done yet,” Lilah called back, “Still have to get it across the border.”

“Ah,” Seth sighed, “That’s the beauty of it. The postal system is going to do all the hard work for us.”

Reaching back, he pulled the prepped box from the third row of seats. He snapped at Richie, who handed him the bag. Into the box went the staff, with a little bubble wrap for protection. A little packing tape, and it was all sealed up and ready to go.

Lilah pulled off to the side and into the parking lot of the mail center, watching as Seth hopped out of the van and dropped the package into the chute. It would be at the bar within a few days. Easy peasy.

She slept on the plane, an alarm set for sunrise. Since she’d last seen him, Lilah had refused to sleep during the day, and only for a few hours at a time. It made her irritable and a little foggy, but she didn’t want to see him. Whenever she thought about their last interaction, Lilah got angry all over again. She’d take a little hit to her functioning to have their next meeting be completely on her terms.

Lilah had gone over the conversation a hundred times, wondering how he’d gotten the impression that she’d been trying to goad him by flirting with—she actually couldn’t figure out which male he’d been concerned about. Best she could figure, he was working off an old framework, the power imbalance between himself and his queen. That wasn’t going to fly, not with her. She had too much going on to deal with a partner (was he even her partner?) who’d go off half-cocked at the slightest feeling of jealousy. No. Lilah had other shit to deal with.

It was with regret that she knew she would have to go and speak with him. Lilah couldn’t avoid him forever—she snorted at the thought—things would have to be cleared up eventually. Besides, she needed to get back to her sleep schedule if she was going to be of any use to anyone. Better to rip this metaphorical Band-Aid off quickly, and soon.

Arguing that she had to deliver the next draft of the treaty, Lilah stashed the staff in the back seat of her car and headed out into the dying sun. The two hour drive gave her enough time to work out what she was going to say. First, she was going to demand an apology. Lilah deserved that much. Then, she was going to discuss boundaries for the future. That seemed like the adult thing to do.  Lilah congratulated her self at how mature the plan sounded in her head. Reality, however, wasn’t quite so easy.  

As she pulled into the parking lot, Lilah debated leaving the staff in the elevator to be found by whoever might be walking by and hauling ass back to the bar. That, unfortunately, would put the covering of their expenses (for which she had receipts) at risk. She’d never live it down if she came back empty handed. So, into the elevator she went.

In the carriage, Lilah felt warmth crawl up her side. She sneered to the ceiling, “Stop it.”

It stopped.

Steeling herself, Lilah stepped into the red light and headed for the bar. Brasa already knew she was here, so all she had to do was sit and wait for him to come to her. She pushed up onto a bar stool and set leaned the staff next to her legs. When the bartender approached, she ordered a bourbon, watching him pour the shot. When she tried to pay, he waved her off, telling her it was on the house.

Suspicious, she pocketed the cash and picked up the glass, sniffing. Nothing smelled off with it, so she took the tiniest sip. Tasted fine. She set it down. Suspicious. Lilah very rarely got free drinks, her looks too severe, her manner too cold. To be fair, that was her preference most of the time. Lilah didn’t have the energy or the patience to fend off advances from drunken men.

A shadow appeared beside her, but it was too cold to be the person she was waiting for. Lilah looked up, unsmiling.

“Can I help you?”

The man flashed his teeth, “I’m Benny.”

Lilah continued to look at him, unamused.

Uninvited, he sat, leaning an arm on the bar top, “You’re not what I expected.”

She debated answering him, a half dozen cutting remarks flying through her mind. In the end, she settled for turning her attention to her drink and ignoring him. Best course of action, really. Lilah needed to save all her quips for the person she was actually mad at.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

At this Lilah rolled her eyes, fixing the guy with a look that said, ‘what the fuck do you think?’

His expression grew still, and she could see the glint of his game face, though he worked to control it. He growled, his hand grasping her arm above the elbow. The grip was painful, and Lilah only just managed to keep her expression cool as she felt the very real danger he presented to her. She was armed, both gun and knife, but she was technically in enemy territory. Starting a fight with one might mean starting a fight with all.  Her eyes scanned the room, too many possible enemies nearby.  

She’d have to talk her way out.

Heat pushed at her back.

Or not.

Benny let her go, sliding off the stool and taking a step away. Lilah craned her neck to confirm what she already knew.

“Oh, thank God,” she murmured, reaching down and picking up the staff, “I got what you asked for.”

Brasa’s attention was on the culebra who was backing away. He stared them down for a few more seconds before his eyes turned to her. Lilah held up the staff, shaking it from side to side a little.

He glanced at the staff, glanced at her, then turned, “Come with me.”

Lilah stared at his back for a second before she sighed and followed him through to his public office. There was no conversation as they traversed the stone pathway towards his desk. When he reached it, Brasa leaned his hips back on the desktop, gloved hands folded in front of him.

Wordlessly, Lilah handed him the staff. He took it, held it in both hands for barely a moment before setting it aside. For as much effort as he was going through to get ahold of it, he certainly didn’t look pleased to actually have it in his possession.

Unable to take more silence, Lilah said the only thing she could think of, “For the record, I wasn’t flirting with him, either.”

First shot fired. Lilah shifted on her feet in preparation for return fire.

Eyes dropping down and to the side, Brasa pushed his hands into his pockets and released a heavy sigh, “I regret how I reacted last time we spoke.”

Well, that was unexpected. Lilah had expected him to double down on it, not express regret. Still, that wasn’t an apology. It did, however, take the edge of her anger.

Lips pursed, she replied, “I’m sure you do.”

Another sigh. It looked like she was going to have to take lead on this, if she wanted a resolution. Lilah very deliberately did not think about why she might want resolution as opposed to giving him the eternal cold shoulder.

“Hey,” she began, holding up her hands, “You can’t get angry any time I’m nice to anyone around me. I have work to do, and that involves having good relationships. Jealousy is not a good look.”

He nodded, “I am unused to these feelings and I am struggling to control them.”

A good explanation, but not an excuse for the behavior.

“That’s okay,” Lilah responded, taking a step forward, “But you need to talk with me about them and not...make assumptions.”

Another nod, “I’m sorry.” There was her apology. “I will try.”

She saw it for what it was, a gesture of good faith. Mollified by his words, Lilah’s shoulders dropped. She hadn’t realized how much tension she’d been holding in her body for the last few days. And now, she didn’t quite know what to do with all the built up anger. Suddenly, she was very tired.

“Good,” she said, “Let’s call it rule number one: if something is bothering us, we’ll talk about it.”

At this, he stood up straighter, his eyes finally finding hers, “I can do that.”

“Okay.”

“Are you going to continue blocking me?” He asked in a small voice.

Brows together, Lilah responded lamely, “Blocking?”

He shrugged, “I haven’t been able to feel you while you were acquiring the staff. I worried.”

Ah. Lilah wondered if he’d picked that up. Of course he had.

“I’m sorry,” She said reflexively, “I needed a little space.”

He licked his lips, eyes regretful. Lilah felt a stab of remorse in her chest. She hadn’t meant to make him worry, she just needed to take a little time for herself to work out her feelings. And, she couldn’t do that if she could feel him with her in the interim. Still, she could also make a gesture of good faith.

“Alright,” she breathed, moving closer to him, “Rule number two, if we talk about it, we won’t block each other out of spite.”

Looking placated, Brasa reached out and took her hands, “I’m glad you are safe.”

“Me, too,” Lilah laughed, “There was no danger. We got in and out with no problems.”

He shook his head, “That isn’t the danger I’m worried about. The culebra out there? Benny? He’s been stirring the others up. He knows who you are to me, and I don’t put it past him to strike out at you to get to me.”

Setting aside the question of how Benny figured out that Lilah was bonded to Brasa, she took a minute to think, “Should I pull a weapon next time?”

He smirked, “You’re a terrible shot.”

“I didn’t say it would be a gun.”

“Oh?”

“I still have my knife. I did alright with the last guy. Got him twice before he threw me through the window.”

Brasa winced, “The point is that he was able to throw you through a window before I got there.”

“That is a good point,” Lilah said seriously, though she could feel a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He rolled his eyes, “Be serious.”

“I am,” she shot back, “I can handle myself in a fight. Usually.”

That was only half a lie. Lilah could handle herself with humans, most of the time. She’d been struggling to hold her own in a fight with a culebra ever since she’d first come up against them. But, he didn’t need to know that.

Deciding that she needed to change the subject, Lilah nodded to the staff, “What do you need it for, anyway?”

He drew he a little closer, expression serious, “I intend to close the portal between this world and Xibalba, so that no others like me come through it.”

She blinked, “Like you?”

Brasa hummed in confirmation, standing and leading her to the side where the secret door was open and waiting.

“Culebras were slaves there, treated as slaves, culled when needed,” he explained, stepping into the dark hallway. “Xibalbans are, as a whole, selfish creatures—destructive, vain, apathetic. Despite my birth status, I experienced what it was like to be subservient to them for many centuries. I don’t want this world to see that kind of pain.”

Lilah listened quietly, walking with him into his bedroom and through to his library where she sat on the couch at his side.

“I’ve done a lot of research,” he continued, “With the relics you acquire for me, I can close the veil permanently.”

She waited a few seconds to make sure he wasn’t going to explain further, then said, “I’m completely on board with this plan.”

He smiled, “I thought you might be.”

“How many more relics to I need to get?”

Brasa laid his arm over the back of the couch, “Three. A cup, a book, and a knife.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“It could be,” he replied, reaching out to trace along her jaw, “I still worry for you. I think I always will.”

She could feel the heat of his body beneath the leather, and she found that she wanted to feel his hands—for real, this time, instead of vague remnants from a dream. In the moments of quiet, her skin remembered what it was like to be caressed by those hands, to feel his fingers curl around her.

“Why do you wear the gloves?”

His hand dropped, his head pulling back. Lilah regretted her words immediately, but he stopped her when she made to apologize.

“You know I’ve killed people,” he said plainly, “My queen, she made me do things that I couldn’t say no to. At first, I thought I was doing the right thing. I believed in it. In the end, I think I did it because I enjoyed it.” He looked down at his hands, “I guess I felt like if I didn’t touch them, if I didn’t feel it as I killed them, I could put distance between what I am and what I was made to do.”

Lilah was quiet a long time. He wouldn’t look at her. She could see the shame on his face, in the slump of his shoulders. She made a decision.

With deliberate slowness, she picked up his hand, saying, “I think we need to make new memories with these hands, then.”

Checking to make sure he was okay with it, Lilah very carefully pulled the glove off. His hand was a nice, normal hand. No scars, neatly trimmed nails, a wide palm with surprisingly fine boned fingers. Watching his face, she lifted it and placed it on her cheek, the warmth seeping in immediately. Lilah held it there, letting him feel.

He swallowed audibly, thumb swiping over her cheekbone. The touch was soft, delicate, testing. With just as deliberate a pace, Lilah pulled the glove off the other hand, placing it on the opposite cheek. He was breathing hard, eyes unfocused, plush lips parted. She could see the way his pupils were dilating, taking over the iris and bleeding a little into the white.

Lilah didn’t know why she did it, but instinct had her moving closer, swinging a leg over his hips and pushing him into the back of the couch. He kept his grip on her cheeks, letting her settle into his lap. Lilah dropped her forehead onto his, eyes half lidded. His body was fire hot beneath her, and she could tell that he was itching to move, yet he remained docile.

Letting the moment expand between them, Lilah touched her nose to his, bumping it affectionately. He smiled, his hands pushing into her hair.

“See?” she prompted gently, “New memories.”

He nodded even as he lifted up to kiss her, his hands holding her steady as he slipped his tongue inside for a taste. Lilah ran her hands down his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he kissed her nearly senseless.  The scent of him, the way his arms wrapped around her middle and held her tight, the taste, it all mixed together in a way that made her lightheaded.

Brasa jerked back, pulling away even further when Lilah made to follow him. She panted, blinking as she took in the black of his eyes, the fangs that had descended. He hadn’t nicked her, she couldn’t taste blood, but she did notice a strange tingling on her lips, over her tongue.

“What?”

He ran his tongue over his lips, “I can’t kiss you like this.”

Her brows furrowed, “Because of your teeth?”

Mouth twitching, he shook his head, “Because of the venom.”

She drew in a breath, “I have no idea what to do with that information.”

He touched her mouth ever so gently, “Kissing you is arousing, Lilah.”

“Uh huh,” she said, nipping at the pad of his forefinger, “That’s kind of the point.”

Hand dropping, Brasa searched for words, “The muscle that controls the venom is reflexive, I can’t control it. Kissing you… like this...you’re very likely to ingest the venom.”

“And,” Lilah prompted, following his line of thought, “You think I’ll suffer from some of the effects.”

“Yes.”

They were going to have to get past this, sooner or later. Lilah voted for sooner.

Settling further into his embrace, Lilah cupped his jaw, leaning into his space, “Are you likely to be aroused any time we kiss for more than a moment?”

Eyes bright, he nodded, “Very likely, I think.”

“Then,” she reasoned in an even tone, “You’re going to settle for quick little kisses for the rest of our relationship?”

To give him an example to go by, Lilah dropped down and pressed a soft, but fleeting kiss to his mouth.  He tried to lean up to get at her again, but she pushed him down, surprised by how willingly he submitted to the motion.

“I mean,” she continued, giving him another quick kiss, “If that’s what you want,” she kissed him harder, but just as quick, “I can try to accommodate you.”

He looked so torn, sitting underneath her weight, hands rubbing at her hips, pulling her into the hard planes of his body. Lilah might have had mercy on him if she thought he would get over his hesitation on his own. Deliberately, she gathered all the bravado she had in her body, using it to do what might normally make her feel too vulnerable.

“You know what that means, though, right?” she breathed, her mouth barely brushing against his, “No deep kisses, no sliding my tongue against yours,” she carded her hands back into his hair, pulling gently and reveling in the little contented moan he made. Then, she went in for the kill, “And definitely no biting.”

Brasa flinched, and she knew she had him. His grip on her hips tightened to near pain, his body rigid. Biting was so deeply ingrained in his kind, a need so deeply held, that to deny it was unthinkable. Lilah knew this, and she was definitely above using it.

She released her hold on his hair, palms on either cheek, “Do you want that?”

“No,” he rasped, a low growl building in his chest.

Smiling, she asked, “Then, what are we going to do about it?”

He looked at a loss, “I don’t know.”

Lilah thought for a moment, half a plan already formed, “You said I could ingest the venom and feel its effects. Is that better than a bite?”

Hesitation, then a curt nod.

“Okay then,” she said lightly, “How about we start with that? We can work up to a bite when you feel more comfortable.”

Lilah had no idea when she’d become so relaxed about him kissing her, biting her, and all the things that went along with that act. What she did know was she wasn’t going to sit stagnant, waffling about the rightness of it. Lilah wanted more kisses, and that was enough for her.

When she moved to kiss him, he pulled back a little, shifting to the side. Lilah, off balance, fell to the cushions. He crawled over her, hips settling between her thighs, though he held most of his weight on his arms. She laughed softly, letting her body relax into the couch.

“Just a little,” he urged, expression eager, “To start. To see how you do with it.”

Willing to let him experiment, Lilah nodded, chin tilting up with the gentle pressure his his hand.

“Open,” he whispered, his mouth hovering over hers.

Lilah’s lips parted, her eyes falling closed. She felt his jaw flex, felt little drops fall onto her tongue. They were hot, like the rest of him, rolling over her taste buds to burn down the back of her throat. She swallowed reflexively, taking whatever he was willing to give her in that moment.

When he lifted a little, Lilah opened her eyes to see him searching her face. She didn’t quite get why he was so nervous—he’d told her that the venom wasn’t harmful, that the effects were pleasing. Still, she was charmed by the concern.

And then the tingles started. Over the length of her tongue, her lips, the inside of her cheeks, down her neck and into the pit of her belly. Little tingles everywhere, as if she were covered in little tickling bubbles. Lilah huffed out a breath, grinning.

“Good?”

She nodded, “Very good.”

Though clearly pleased, his face was serious, his gaze looking her over and clocking every little movement.

She said his name to capture his full attention, “This is nice.”

His mouth kicked up on one side, “Wait until it peaks.”

“Peaks?”

Brasa hummed a little, pushing hair away from her face, his touch light. A moment later and she knew what he meant. The pleasant tickle turned into a searing burn of pleasure, her muscles going lax and nerves firing sporadically. She let out a startled yelp, her hands coming up to dig into his broad shoulders.

“Hush, querida,” he murmured, hands running along her sides.

As quick as it rose, so did the feeling subside. Lilah was left sucking in air as she gained control of her limbs again. She wiped sweat from her forehead, her hand trembling.

Staring up into his carefully guarded eyes, Lilah gave him a soft smile, “That’s a good start, I think.”

[ficsnroses]

Friends With Benefits - Keanu Reeves x Reader

Chapter 1 ~ The Beginning 

Word Count : 1939

Warnings : Swearing, NSFW, Smut (this is my first time writing a little smut, I kinda just tested the waters honestly, but the upcoming chapters will have more) 18+ readers.

Summary : What happens when two, lonely friends start seeing each other for sex? A tricky FWB love story, when feelings get in the way.

notes : hi everyone, here it *finally* is. A Friends with benefits to lovers fic with Keanu.

I’m sorry it took so long for me to write this, I had been putting it off because the response to this idea was so good that I didn’t want to disappoint. I’ve tweaked this so many times, but I’ve decided I just need to release it and better myself as the story continues.

•

It’s a quite night on the West Coast. The month of November has always been a period of serenity in the city, as the holiday season peers around the corner. The holidays are nice, the city lights up each and every corner, decorated, gleaming and radiating a heavenly glow, much like a new bride. You’d always been an admirer of the Christmas season. Back home, Christmas brought the entire family together during the jolly time of the year. It was an absolute ball, however, you hadn’t been able to be home for the holidays in a while. Your move out to the city for work had came with some rather undesirable factors, such as constantly being away from home. To make things grimmer, you hadn’t pledged yourself to the social circle of the city yet. Sure, you had an acquaintance or two, maybe a few ladies you might go out with for a round of sangrias and bellinis once in a blue moon, but you didn’t really have a concrete set of people you admired and could call friends.

It felt real lonely in the city. Your day normally consisted of work, followed by an evening alone at home, perhaps binging the newest additions to the Netflix catalogue, or re watching an old, favourite sitcom. They reminded you of home, and simpler, better times.

Tonight had been no different. Dressing yourself in a cozy, white plush bathrobe and your favourite kitten slippers, you prepared for a relaxing evening. The week had been extremely draining, allowing you to crave indulgence in a pampering night in. Perhaps a face mask or two, maybe a glass of red accompanied with a cheese spread for one, with a nice holiday movie. Yeah, that sounded real tempting.

Propping your legs up on the jet black coffee table, you draped your beloved fleece blanket over your figure, phone in hand, ready to browse a movie to cast to the tv.

However, seems like someone else had other plans in mind tonight.

           “Hey Y/N, you home?”

The blue light channelled into your eyes from the device.  It was Keanu, supposedly asking about your whereabouts. You knew what he wanted right away, and you weren’t sure if you were up for it tonight.

Keanu and you had met around a year and a half ago, at a work event. You worked as a prop designer on movie sets, and he was staring in your project at the time. You became friends, slowly, but eventually. He was a nice, caring, wonderful gentlemen to be around, an absolute treat to indulge in, as an escape from the rest of the crowd you normally had to endure. You hung out a few time here and there, just as friends. Sometimes at a coffee date, to catch up on work and all things in daily endurance, or maybe you’d catch the newest flick that graced your local neighbourhood cinema. You both loved the world of film so passionately, it was nice to splurge in each others thoughts.

All that changed however, one pivotal evening. Sometimes you wish you could take that evening back, change the way things turned out. But they had already made themselves history, and as true as night turns to day. Those things defined you now, and set course for the remainder of your relationship.

On a somber evening, you had invited Keanu over for a movie night in, paired with a drink or two. Keanu wasn’t one to socialize with the mass of the crowds, he preferred to keep to himself, making company with a few selected individuals. You felt honoured to be brought into this pact of his. You reciprocated the feeling just as much.

However, as soon as Keanu entered your apartment that evening, you knew something was off. He shared a few broken laughs here and there, but he wasn’t fully engaged in convo as he normally was. He wasn’t his normal, sprightly self. You knew of Keanu’s sorrow filled, subdued past, and you knew he had his days where his demons got the best of him. You couldn’t help but relate to him sometimes, even if not on the completely same level. Truth be told, you were both lonely. You knew that, perhaps that’s why things happen the way they did.

           That evening was the first time it happened, and that first time ended up converging into multiple. You were both isolated, unaccompanied, maybe that’s why things took the turn they did.

           You both needed someone that night, needed to feel something that night. You don’t remember who made the first move, seemed as if both of you wanted that mutuality, that connection just as much. But the film never played that evening, and you found yourself legs wrapped around Keanu’s waist, him carrying you to your bed, hungry kisses placed on the corners of your mouth, asking entrance to dance your tongues together. His colossal hands gripping onto the delicate skin of your waist, lightly lifting the seams of your shirt in the process. They threatened to tattoo their way in, leaving behind red hand marks.

           “Is this okay?” he breathily whispered into your ear, cautionary flare evident in his words.

He was positioned on top of you, both laid connected on your bed. His stocky fingers grazed the skin of your hip, lifting just enough of the fabric of your shirt to ask permission. His breath on your skin and the weight of his body on yours only made you crave him more, the yearn for his body to become with yours greater by the instance.

You nodded frantically, pulling him down by a wrap of arms around his neck, gently ruffling his long, raven hair on the back of his head.

You slightly raised your hips to allow him access to remove both your jeans and underwear. You tugged at his belt, feeling the long scar line he had on his stomach under his shirt in the process.

Once both your bottoms had been peeled off each other, Keanu pulled the covers over your bodies and turned the bedside light off. Placing a few more kisses to your lips, he snaked his hand down to touch your heat, preparing you to take him.

You almost couldn’t believe it in that moment, you felt it was wrong, like you were breaking a rule. Here he was, a man you completely admired and called one of your few friends, touching you in the most intimate place.

But you couldn’t stop it; your hazy mind fogged with lust, needing his touch more and more by the second. You need more though, and it seemed your desire for him to take you overtaking every other sense.

           “I need you, now Keanu.” Your raspy voice echoed in his ears, undoubtedly providing him the assurance he needed to move ahead. He needed you as well, so much, but likewise, he couldn’t shake the feeling of doing something wrong. Using his friend.

You reach down and pump him a few times, your touch emitting a course groan escaping his mouth. With a searing kiss, you guide him into you, feeling yourself stretch around him, pulsating.

With each thrust, he buries himself deeper and deeper in you, you find yourself letting out silent wails into the crook of his neck as his hands are placed on either side of you on the bed, gripping the sheets with the sheerest of force.

You felt his cock twitch within you, letting you know he was close. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t used protection. Needless to say, neither of you had any regardless. Perhaps, neither of you would have ever dreamed this turn of events.

The sound of skin slapping skin, and both your quiet moans and grunts filled the four walls of the shadowy, dainty room.

           “Fuck, I’m close Y/N” he thrusts deeper, more meaningful, pouring himself into you.

Rolling your hips along with his thrusts, you feel your nerves pulling at your insides, your end nearing. With a particularly hard thrust, you reach your climax, tightening around him with a whimper, clawing at his back unknowingly.

You’d had sex before with other men, but nothing like this. Keanu was damn good, and his girth fit and filled you so fucking well, you swore butterflies.

He lets out a gaspy moan, muffled with praises for you. Pulling out of you near his end, Keanu jerks himself a few times before he releases himself into his hand. It was a shitty way to come, but you couldn’t risk a pregnancy, and you weren’t on the pill at the time.

You spent the remainder of the evening making love to each other, although, you didn’t think you had the right to call it that. It was just sex, unfortunately. Greif filled, draining, guilt ensuing sex. The type of sex you have when you need human connection. The next morning when the sun channeled over the horizon, you found yourself feeling sin filled, like you had completely ruined your relationship, used him for your needs. Keanu felt the same, as if he had took your vulnerability and used it to fill his own void. His own affection craving, heartsore, miserable void.

With awkward goodbyes, you went your separate ways that morning. It killed you both a little to have soiled your relationship, over something as stupid as faulty sex.

But that evening spent together sparked a new chapter in your friendship, if you even had the right to call it that anymore.

You didn’t know how, and you couldn’t justify why you found yourself at Keanu’s doorstep later that week. You almost felt ashamed, and feared what he would think. Although neither of you had said it, you assumed that evening together at your place would be the first and last time you had sex.

           But it definitely wasn’t.

You were both falling too far down the rabbit hole, too obsessed with the feeling someone so fucking close. It was intimacy you both craved so much, and you were happy to find it in each other, or at least you thought.

That “first” time turned into a pathological necessity almost. You found yourselves inviting each other over to each other’s houses on evenings you need a release. Keanu would call you on set to his trailer during take breaks sometimes, for a quick rumble. You would call him to your studio for the same, just a quickie to get out the stress of the day.

You weren’t sure if Keanu took other lovers as well besides you, you really had no right to ask or be jealous. After all, your relationship wasn’t the same anymore. You were friends with benefits, after all.

You hadn’t been with anyone else other than him for the entire year you’d been meeting each other for sex. You weren’t sure you could have someone other than him. He knew so well what you wanted so well, and he genuinely cared for you as a person. He didn’t treat you like an object, and always made sure you were comfortable. An added bonus, he was dreamy, so handsome you felt yourself melt each time you saw him.

You were honored to get to connect with him on such a personal, intimate level. Maybe you wanted more. But hope was too far gone. There’s no way he wants more, why would anyone want more with their friends with benefits?

            With a sigh, and slight contemplation, you typed the response.

           “Yeah. What’s up?” – Y/N

           “Come over?” – Keanu

           “Sure. Gimmie 20.” – Y/N

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

>>Chapter 2 >>