#id go back in a heartbeat though

[natalia-lafourcade]

My dads stories about his Pueblo scare the shit outta me 😭😭😭

[wlntrsldler]

PLS MAKE A FULL BLURB OR ONESHOT FOR LUKE AND A KNIFE KINK ID EAT THAT UP💔💔😭😭

ur wish is my command... MDNI

not canon for the plot!

505 | luke castellan

luke couldn't stand it. everyone seemed to second-guess him. oh, luke wouldn't it be better if we did this? what if we combined these two strategies? this doesn't make sense, luke! we should just stick to the original plan.

luke wanted to yell at everyone to tell them to shut up! gods, they were getting on his nerves. didn't they understand that what he says goes? he was the one enacting the plan for kronos. he was the one kronos approached. he was the one the titan trusted to lead the return of the golden age. not them.

maybe luke had gotten soft. ever since you joined his side of the fight, he supposed he's been a little bit pre-occupied with dealing with you. it wasn't his fault, though-- really it wasn't! it took two months for you to come crawling back to him, begging him to forgive you for ever turning your back on him, and two months was a long time for luke not to fuck his favorite girl dumb with his cock.

sure, he may have gone overboard on your first night (or first three days, more like) on princess andromeda, but he didn't care. now, though, since his loyal followers thought that they could run their mouth about how he was leading the cause, he started to care.

luke wasn't allowed to have a weak spot, but with you around, he feared that he was breaking that rule. that can't happen.

luke entered your shared room with a loud slam of the door. you were laying in bed, in one of his t-shirts and panties on, reading a book, patiently waiting for him to get back. he huffed as he stared at himself in the mirror, analyzing the creases between his eyebrows from his anger. he took off his shirt, wiping the sweat from his face, as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

you pressed your face against his toned back, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek, "you're tense, baby. what's going on?"

"nothin'," he muttered, playing with backbiter that was situated by his thigh, confined in its scabbard. "they're just pissin' me off. think they know better than i do."

"they don't," you began kissing down his back, letting your lips linger a bit longer on his scars. luke closed his eyes at the feeling of your hands traveling down his abs, stopping shy at his belt buckle. "need to blow off some steam?"

luke bit his bottom lip at the sound of your voice, all sultry and sexy. he loved it when you did this. it's like you knew exactly what he needed. "you offerin', sweetheart?"

"always, baby," you tapped his bicep to make him turn around. he faced you, leaning down to start nipping at the expanse of your neck. his hands gripped your waist, pushing you closer to his hardening cock. you moaned as he sucked on your pulse point, "you know i'm yours to use whenever you want."

luke wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling on it slightly to have you look up at him. your eyes were narrowed, pupils blown wide. you were a sight to see. luke leaned down to your lips, making you whine when he didn't bother to kiss you. instead, his teeth took your bottom lip between them and bit down. he sucked on your bottom lip harshly as he grinded his hips against yours. he let go of your lip, running his tongue over the faint bite mark he left on it. "i knew i could count on you."

your hands fiddled with his jeans, popping off the button as you sank down to your knees. luke removed the scabbard from his belt loop and had backbiter in his hand. you were unzipping his pants, palming his cock through the fabric of his jeans and boxers. your eyes were glued on his happy trail and his abs, mouth watering as you imagined the weight of his cock in your mouth again. it's only been a few hours since luke fucked you, but you were so cock-drunk that it felt too long since.

luke wanted to see your pretty face as you pushed his pants down. he took the tip of backbiter and led it to the underside of your jaw. you froze at the cold metal against your skin and luke thought maybe he'd gone too far by putting the celestial bronze against your neck, but then you moaned. and any restraint luke had flew out the window.

luke chuckled darkly at your reaction and dug backbiter harder into your skin, not enough to draw blood, but enough to force you to look at him. your eyes were wide and dark, silently pleading for him to continue his actions. your bottom lip was poking out into a pout and luke wanted to take a picture of you right now to keep for himself for later. you looked so pretty like this, on your knees with his hard cock in front of your face, wearing his shirt, and his sword poking your neck.

"you like that?" he asked, letting his free hand cradle your jaw. he licked his lips as you placed a kiss on his palm-- a thank you of some sorts for unlocking a kink within you that you didn't know you had.

"yes," you sighed, feeling his thumb caress your cheekbone.

"oh, my baby," luke cooed, voice dripping with a mean, teasing tone. he tapped your jaw with backbiter twice, motioning for you to get up. you obliged and luke spun the two of you around so you were both facing the mirror. luke was behind you, lifting the oversized shirt above where your panties started. he moved your hair to one side, placing backbiter back on the side of your neck.

luke met your eyes in the mirror and he couldn't help but let a wicked grin take over his features. something about knowing that he's the only person who could get you in a position like this made a fire erupt in his chest. he was never a possessive person, but when it came to you-- you were his and he was going to make sure you knew that.

"you're gonna watch me fuck you with my sword against your neck," he whispered in your ear, teeth grazing over your earlobe. "sounds good, sweetheart?"

"s'good," you purred, leaning your head against his shoulder blade. you were already delirious and he hadn't even touched you yet.

luke pulled down his boxers and your panties, groaning at the arousal that stuck against the fabric. you were soaking. he pressed his tip against your eager pussy, hissing at the tightness. no matter how much he fucked you, it always felt like heaven when his cock pushed into your folds. he could never get tired of this feeling.

you moaned loudly when luke was all the way in, trying your best to keep your eyes open as pleasure took over your body. backbiter was still pushed against your neck, the feeling of the cold metal and luke's warm body against your back was the perfect contrast. luke's hips snapped against your ass. the sound of skin slapping was like music to his ears.

luke's eyes wandered to your face in the mirror, tongue poking out the corner of his lips when he saw your face contort in pleasure. your jaw was ajar as you mewled around his cock, eyes rolling back as luke hit that spot inside you that had you seeing stars. he'd fucked you enough times to know exactly where it was. luke watched as your ass bounced against him, flesh turning red at the constant pressure against it. a part of him wanted to make it difficult for you to sit down tomorrow.

as luke was getting close to his release, he removed backbiter from your throat and tugged on your hair. his other hand grabbed your jaw harshly and forced your head to twist so he could put his lips on yours. he roughly connected your lips, drinking in the sounds of your moans as his tongue explored your mouth. you were panting against his mouth, all breathy and desperate.

"i'm cumming," you whispered. luke separated your lips, turning your head to face the mirror again. he wanted to see you cum on his cock. it was his favorite view.

when your jaw dropped and your eyes screwed shut, luke sped up his thrusts as he felt your cum coating his cock. your pussy tightened around him and he had to grab onto the corner of the dresser beside him to steady himself. he came with long, spurts of cum coating your walls as you watched him fuck his cum deep inside you.

luke collapsed on top of your back, accidentally kicking backbiter away so that it hit the bottom of the dresser with a clang. when he heard you whimper as he pulled his softening cock out of you, all he could think about was how he'd gladly let all the stress and doubts of his team get to him more often if it meant he got to blow off steam like this.

[sprout-fics]

i absolutely love your könig drabbles, i can’t help but keep rereading them over and over- hes just so mysterious 🤤

if you’re feeling in the mood to write for him some more- i’ve got a cute little trope. though i LOVE könig saving the reader every chance he gets, id like to get the chance to see her save his ass for once. maybe while he’s distracted with something/someone else, someone comes up from behind and the reader shoots their ass or sum. idrk how missions in cod work- never played it, but i wouldn’t want the person to be from either of their teams (don’t want to kill her own team + doesn’t make sense for his ally to hurt him)

If you don’t like that idea, any scenario of her saving him and he be like “SO U DO LIKE ME!!!” would make my year honestly

+ no pressure to write it ofc !

Wolverine

König x 'Maus' Reader

(Part 5 of "Little Mouse" Series)

Word Count: 1.5k Rating: Teen and up Tags: Enemies to lovers, Slow burn, Dark König, Reluctant allies, Lying to your team on behalf of your enemy boyfriend, Sniper! Reader, Female Reader Warnings: Mentions of human trafficking A/N: Just a small chapter/scene to tide everyone over before a longer next chapter!

You see the AQ fighter before he does.

Price has you on the backburner this mission- relegated to suppressive fire only as the rest of the team infiltrates the AQ warehouse where the cell is supposedly hiding human trafficking victims. It’s a clean house job. Get in, get out, lead the hostages to safety. Out of all the missions the 141 has done together, this is fairly tame. 

So you perch from your spot atop a building 2 blocks away that overlooks the warehouse, exposed arms being baked by the Crimean sun, sweat beading along your neck. Here, high in the sky, you can see every move, every flutter, every step. Your finger taps along your weapon, and with every heartbeat you feel your blood thrum like a familiar staccato in your chest. 

Yet the second you set up your sniper nest you had felt it, a prickle of awareness at the back of your senses. Like eyes watching you from the dark, it had bored along your back, creeping up your spine and setting goosebumps trilling across your flesh. Like a fox in a twilight grove, the wind ripples across your nape, and it carries the scent of something all too familiar, something forbidden, dangerous. You know the sensation well enough by now, know exactly what it means.

You aren’t alone. 

You tell Price as much. You don’t have any evidence to go off of, but you trust your instincts. They’ve yet to fail you, and neither has he. You trust your captain wholeheartedly, his years of leadership and experience weighing down across his scarred shoulders and burdening him with the gravity that comes with duty. 

So you listen when his voice echoes softly in the comms, concealed from the hostiles that lurk just beyond in the courtyard.

“Eyes open.” He tells you sternly, voice muted into his mic. “The second you see anything off you RV with us, clear?”

Clear.

You’re instructed to stay where you are, to not betray your position and be the perfectly little still mouse you are, not moving a single muscle. So you do, tracing the group as they make their way through the back gate of the warehouse single file, weapons ready.

Under his instruction you down the three fighters standing near the entryway, their bodies slumping limply to the ground but caught and dragged off before their comrades are any the wiser. 

You watch as Price and the others rally behind a door leading inside, faces grim and eyes sparking with determination.

Then, movement. 

About a hundred feet away where they can’t see. A flash of gray and green in the dying afternoon sun, his massive form carefully concealed behind a corner. Watching, observing, but not interfering. 

It’s him.

König.

By the time you switch your comms back on though the group has breached the warehouse, and your radio is filled with barked orders and rapid gunfire that drowns out your voice when you attempt to speak. 

“Price? Price, how copy?”

The captain doesn’t respond.

All the while König creeps closer, staying in the slanted shadows of the building. Form coiled, he seems for all the world like a wolverine, muscles rippling and claws outstretched. The metal of his bracers flicker like fangs in the sun, bared and dripping threats. The static of your radio feels for all the world like a grinding growl that echoes deep into your own chest, a warning that’s come far too late.

They don’t know he’s there.

Your voice shakes now as you try to contact the boys, but the radio crackles with echoing gunfire and the static aftershock of a frag grenade. You can hear the screams of the hostages now, rising and pitching high to the wind. Gaz barks rapidly in Arabic, and his voice overlaps your wavering tone that they don’t seem to hear.

So instead you level your scope at him, at this man who is your enemy despite the fact he’s saved your life more times than you care to remember. There, in the crosshairs, you see the details of him, of his hood streaked with bleach tears, the whites of his eyes behind the coal dark stain, the planes of his shoulders as he turns away from you. He’s armed, just with a knife that glints in the dying light. 

You’ve seen it before, seen it drip red onto the cracked, dry earth as one of his comrades gurgled wetly at his feet, dead by his hand. He had tried to hurt you, but it had not been you that had killed him. Even now you can remember that hood, the fabric shifting as he had turned for you- reached out to where your hand hovered over your radio. 

Don’t. 

He hadn’t hurt you, and yet-

It would only take a single shot. 

All this time you’ve been chasing each other. He’s tried to kill the others, nearly succeeded in killing Gaz. He’s pursued you, only to let you go. It’s a dangerous, imbalanced game of cat and mouse where he stalks your nighttime dreams, only to appear in daylight with stunning clarity. He’s taken you, has rescued you, has watched you from the shadows, has touched you, let his hand feel your racing heartbeat. He’s your enemy. He’s your fascination. He could kill you. He’s saved you. 

He could be dead by your hand if you just…

You blink, and there’s movement behind him.

An AQ fighter who limps from a side door, escaping the chaos inside. Smoke trails after him, evidence of one of Soap’s thrown grenades. He turns as he coughs and splutters, clutching a wound on his thigh. Then he spots König, and in his hand you see the flash of a muzzle.

König stops, begins to turn.

The man takes aim with trembling hands.

You fire.

The round forces the air from your lungs, shot as you sucked in a gasp and hissing as it escapes. Like a crack of thunder it rings out against the sky, deafening the world and leaving an unsettled stillness in its wake. Almost instantly the head of the AQ fighter erupts in a grotesque spume of red, and his body tilts backwards, off balance, before he slumps at König’s feet.

He stills.

It takes König a moment to register what just happened. You can see his head tilt down to the fighter’s corpse, entire body drawn taut like a bow as he watches scarlet pool at his boots. Yet faster than you anticipated his eyes flash, turn to seek you like a homing missile, eyes wide and searching. They settle on you, perched one hundred meters away at the top of an empty building, stomach flat against the rooftop where rubble digs into your skin.

You look past your scope to where he stands, hands clenched at his sides, eyes bright, shoulder stiff and coiled. He doesn’t move from where he stands, doesn’t even flinch.

You could kill him. 

He’s wide open.

Yet then König tilts his head at you, blinking slowly like a lazy cat in the sun. It’s as if he realizes exactly where he is, how a single pull of the trigger could end him where he stands. A sensible soldier would dive for cover, would raise his own weapon and fire back to buy time for an escape. 

König does neither.

Instead he raises the hand not holding his blade to his face, lets his fingers graze his chin before lowering his open palm in front of him. It feels like a gesture, an entreaty, one offered to you with something akin to reverence. You recognize the hand signal instantly.

Thank you.

You blink, lips parting in wonder, and all at once the air in your chest feels too warm, too light, unfurling like a delicate, pale thing with soft downy wings.

“Rookie.” Price barks in your ear, and you flinch at his sudden voice. “How are we looking? ready for ex-fil?”

You pause, hand hovering over your comms. König sees the gesture from where he stands, all the way below. Even though he pauses for a moment, he eventually locks eyes with you, nods once-

And vanishes back into the shadows. 

“Rookie, how copy?”

“Clear.” You tell your captain, even if you don’t believe your own voice, shaking as it is. “One straggler on the south side of the building, eliminated. Your route is clear.”

“Copy that.”

Yet then Price pauses, the comms crackling with wordless chatter beyond him as Gaz and the others sort the hostages, until at last his voice resumes. 

“Did you see him?”

The warm air in your chest feels caught, stifled. Yet when you look all you see is shadows, and even the aftereffect seems to have evaporated, as if he was never there at all.

“No.” You reply softly, and the lie tastes sour on your lips. 

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[forever-rogue]

happy new year lovely!! thank you for blessing us with wonderful content <33

i saw that youre taking request and id love to ask for maybe a flashback fic with javi and dulzura when she's at the height of her pregnancy. javi dealing with cravings, mood swings, and h0rniness and all that lol oki tyyy

AN | Oooh, I’ve missed these two!  Can be read as a stand alone or part of the ‘verse! ❤️

Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Language, 

Word Count | 3.8k

Masterlist | Main, Javier, A Good Man ‘Verse

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were going to kill Javier. If not that, you were at least never letting him touch you again. 

It was the height of summer, and you were hot, miserable, and very pregnant. There were moments when you wanted to cry about it, moments when you really just wanted to throw yourself in the shower and stand under the cold water, and moments where every little thing annoyed you. 

There were only a few months left…you could manage that. And then you’d never have to do it again. Good on Javier for actually going through with getting a vasectomy. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Javi woke up, it was still the middle of the night. He reached across the best for you but found your side of the bed empty. He sighed lightly, having wanted to pull your warm, soft body into his. Ever the diligent husband, he slipped out of the bed in search of you. He completed a trek through the upstairs, checking in on the four kids before making his way downstairs. If you weren’t up there, you had to be somewhere down there, and if he knew anything about you by now, he had a feeling you’d be in the kitchen.

“Dulzura?” he called out softly when he saw the faint light in the dining room. He walked in and did his best to stifle his laugh; it wasn’t at you per se, but the sight was a little funny. You were sitting at the table, reading a book while you munched on some mac n cheese - the cheap Kraft kind is what you insisted upon these days - doused in sriracha and a side of pickles. Tears were running down your cheeks as you looked up at him and sniffled, “baby, what’s wrong?”

“Javi,” you wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand before holding up your book, “he just told her that he’d been waiting for her and he’d always wait for her because she’s his soulmate. They’re so in love and now they get a second chance!”

So in love just like we are, he wanted to say. Instead he came over and crouched at your side, gently taking the book out of your hands before touching your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. You huffed slightly, but leaned into his touch, “you’re up late, honey.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted quietly, on the verge of tears again, “and your kid was hungry. So I came down to make a snack and then I remembered I’d left my book down here so I started reading and then just…eating and reading.”

“Eating and reading,” he echoed as you nodded sweetly, “aye, what am I going to do with you, huh?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” you pouted and Javi couldn’t help but laugh before he leaned up and pressed a kiss to your lips, “Bump makes it hard to sleep comfortably and I’m always hungry.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and truthfully, if he could have taken the burden of being pregnant away from you, he would have in a heartbeat, “it’s not for much longer though.”

You mulled over his words for a few moments before a new wave of emotion washed over you and big, fat crocodile tears welled up and ran down your cheeks, “I-I don’t want to be pregnant anymore-”

“It’ll be over soon - forever.”

“I don’t want that either,” you choked on a sob as you reached for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze, “I’m not ready for another baby. I want to stay pregnant.”

“Honey,” he chuckled fondly, reaching to put his arms around you and holding you as tightly as possible. You hugged onto your husband as best as you could despite your bump and held onto him as tightly as possible, “it’s okay - it will be okay. We’re gonna figure it all out together, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded in agreement, “you’re right. You’re always right. You’re so smart. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he gently rubbed your back in soothing circles as he let you get it all out, tears wetting the cotton of his shirt, “it’s okay, just get it all out. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” you pulled back to look at him, to study your sweet, sweet husband and his handsome face. You tenderly cradled his face in your hands, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” he teased softly, “but I’ll allow it. C’mon, let me take you to bed and help you get comfortable.”

“Can I bring the pickles?”

“Of course.”

“Will you read to me?”

“Whatever you desire, Dulzura.”

“Do you still love me?”

“More than anything in this world,” and with that he pressed a kiss to your lips and took your hand in his, “more than anything.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wouldn’t be a normal evening in the Peña household without some sort of chaos. And usually, it wouldn’t bug you or phase you but right now, being so pregnant and going through a particularly emotional period caused you to almost have a breakdown. Lucia was a bundle of energy bouncing around the house as she pretended to be a popstar. Santi and Thea were playing with Legos, something that still made you nervous so you kept stealing glances at them every few minutes to make sure no one was choking. Javi was sitting on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table as he graded some papers. 

Meanwhile you were in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner with Diego following underfoot. He must have been going through some sort of phase because he was really clingy with you and wanted to be around you all the time. Javier had offered to help but it was already hard enough with one of your boys next to you, so you’d insisted you had it handled. Once the counters were cleaned off, you leaned against the counter and let out a heavy sigh. 

“Mama?” Diego tugged on your leg and gave you a sweet smile. You reached down and ran a hand through his dark curls and gave him a soft smile, “are you okay?”

“Oh honey,” the little look of concern on his face made you want to cry. You hated the idea that he could tell that you weren’t feeling great. You kneeled down as best as you could before pulling him into a hug, “I’m okay, Diego. I’m just tired is all. It’s not anything you or your sisters and brother did. None of you are in trouble or anything. I love you so much, my sweet boy.”

“I love you too,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek and you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. He really was the sweetest little thing and you were just so lucky that he was your son, “it’ll be okay, mama.”

“I know,” you smiled softly, “how could it not be when I’ve got all of you? Hey, we need to make brownies for Lucia’s class tomorrow, do you want to help me?”

“Okay,” he nodded happily, his big brown eyes lighting up, “can I lick the spoon?”

“Of course, mijo,” you promised, grabbing the back of the counter and slowly standing back up. You cast a quick look into the living room and found that everything was still as it should be. A small sigh of relief escaped your lips. It wasn’t that you were inherently worried that something was going to happen, but you’d been on edge lately, all part of the wonderful pregnancy experience. 

Diego popped to the other side of the counter and climbed onto one of the stools to watch you closely, ready to be your little assistant. You grabbed a bowl and a few other utensils before turning to the pantry to pull out the things you’d need. Part of you had been tempted to just use a box mix, but you wanted to go full on and make everything from scratch. You’d never thought you’d turn into one of those moms, but here you were.

But as you pushed through all the stuff that was there, you realized that the items you needed weren’t there. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you took a moment to calm yourself down. Everything was fine…in the grand scheme of things, it was no big deal. But right now it seemed like a huge deal.

“Javi?” you heard him hum in response but he didn’t even look up from the paper he was looking over. You crossed your arms over your chest and sighed heavily, “Javier. Can you come here, please?”

Almost as if he could sense that something was wrong, he immediately set down his stack of papers before coming over to you. He offered you a tentative smile as a frown settled on your features. Uh oh, “what’s wrong, Dulzura?”

“Where are the things to make the brownies?” you asked and confusion clouded his features. That just confirmed your suspicions that he indeed had not purchased anything that you needed, “did you not get the stuff?”

“W-what stuff?” Javier had been through a lot in his life and dealt with some bad, scary men. But that still didn’t compare to how nervous his pregnant wife made him, “baby?”

“Seriously?” you groaned and threw your hands up in exasperation, “I asked you for one thing and you couldn’t manage it?”

“I don’t remember,” he admitted sheepishly, “I’m sorry, honey.”

“I gave you a list,” you sighed heavily, “as you were leaving this morning. I asked you to stop at the store and pick up the stuff when you picked the kids up.” 

“Oh,” yeah…you had done that. And he had managed to let it slip his mind. He even remembered that he’d taken the list and put in the visor of the car so he’d remember. Which he obviously hadn’t done, “I completely forgot. I’m so sorry, Dulzura.”

“I guess at least you remembered to pick up the kids,” your voice was thick with tears and Javier entered into crisis solving mode. He put a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before wiping away the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “they’re more important.”

“We can get the stuff for brownies tomorrow, yeah?”

“No,” you pouted deeply, crocodile tears welling up, “Lucia needs them for class tomorrow in the morning. I planned on making them tonight so they were fresh in the morning.”

“How about I go and everything now?” he offered and you knew that his response was logical but you really didn’t want to admit it, “and then I’ll bake the brownies.”

“It’s not the same! The stores are going to be closed,” you huffed slightly, “it’s already getting late and oh no. The kids - we should be getting them ready for bed. I don’t want them up too late. I’m a horrible mother.”

“Dulzura,” Javier put his hands on your upper arms and gave them a gentle squeeze. He would do anything to keep you from crying, to keep the tears from falling down, “it’s okay. It’s still before their bedtime and we can start getting them ready. Once they’re asleep, I can make cookies or something…Lucia will have something to bring to class, yeah? And you are anything but a bad mother. You are a wonderful, amazing, mother - the best.”

“Really?” you perked up at his sweet words and he nodded before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I love them so much. And you. All of you.”

“I know, and we love you too,” he whispered, “very, very much. How about you sit down and relax and I’ll put the kids to bed?”

“There’s four of them,” you sniffled softly, “that’s a lot of them! How can I just leave you to do everything?”

And you were crying again but you wrapped your arms around Javi, holding onto him tightly. He rubbed your back gently, softly whispering sweet words of reassurance in your ear. He’d been through this with you enough by now to know that it was a whole lot of hormones talking, “it’s not everything. It’s really not a big deal, I promise. Besides, how many times have you done it alone in the past?”

“B-but-”

“But nothing,” he insisted firmly, and your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry. He was just so sweet and wonderful that it made your heart constrict, “I will handle it this time and you will relax. That is an order.”

“Okay,” you nodded and he kissed you softly, “thank you, Javi.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he smiled and oh. He had the loveliest smile, “they’re not just your kids, they’re ours. And you’re currently growing the last one, and you deserve and need to relax.”

Before you could say anything else, a small pair of arms wrapped your legs. You looked down and found Diego looking at both of you, “you’re a good mom.”

“Yeah?” you asked as Javi picked him and settled him on his hip. Diego was getting a little big to be picked up and carried around easily, but Javier would do it for any one of his kids as long as he could and they were willing, “I think you’re a great kid, Diego. I’m so lucky to be your mom.”

“C’mon,” Javi put his free hand on your lower back and started to guide you to the living room, “you can say good night to the kids and then I’ll get them to bed.”

“They’re such good kids,” your voice almost cracked with emotion and Javi nodded softly in response, “all of them. We’re so lucky.”

“Mhmm,” he watched as the rest of your brood came over to hug you, “and all of us are very lucky to have you.”

“I love you,” you whispered to your husband, “thank you for putting up with all my craziness and all of…this.”

“It’s not putting up with you - I love you. That’s what you do for those you love,” you gave him a sweet smile, “and I happen to love you very, very much Dulzura.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You always wanted Javi. In the metaphorical and very literal sense. You’d always enjoyed a very…healthy sex life with him, but being pregnant made you want him even more. And, you know, that was nothing that Javi would ever complain about.

This particular evening found you waiting for Javier to get home and for the first time in a while, you had the house all to yourself. It might have been some planning on your part, but it wasn’t hard to convince Chucho to take the kids for the night. That man loved spending time with his grandkids, and who were you to deny him? 

As soon as you heard the door opening, you almost ran (as much as you could these days) to the door to greet him. His face lit up when he realized you were right there, and he immediately dropped his bag so he could pull you into a hug, “hey baby.”

“I’m so glad you’re home,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his, hungry and searching, “missed you. Been thinking about you all day.”

“Yeah?” he almost growled at the feeling of your lips on his, “missed you too, Dulzura.”

You continued to kiss him, finding it easy to get lost in him. You started to drag him towards the stairs, feeling your need for him increase with every passing moment, “need you, Javi.”

“W-wait,” he groaned, loath to pull apart from you, “the kids.”

“They’re not here,” you grinned coquettishly, “Pop has them for the night. We don’t need to pick them up until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Seriously?” He loved his kids, he really did. But sometimes having four of them made it hard to get a moment alone with you. And knowing that he had the entire evening alone with you caused him to almost lose it. You nodded and he pulled off his jacket, not even bothering to hang it up, instead tossing it on the floor. He almost growled as he kissed you again, letting his lips trail along your jaw and then down your neck. You made a soft sound and Javi groaned,  before pulling back and looking at you, “you’re going to kill me, Dulzura.”

“Can’t have you dying on me until you fuck me at least one more time,” you reached for his hand and started to pull him up the stairs. Not that he needed any encouragement, he was the one that ended up leading you, “eager, are we?”

“It’s been a long minute since we’ve done this,” he reminded you, “and even longer since we’ve been able to go without any kids around.”

“We still have one around technically,” you teased, rubbing your hand over your bump, and he snorted in amusement, “hey - this is your fault so don’t laugh!”

“It takes two,” he taunted with nothing but fondness lacing his voice, “never heard you complaining before, baby. And last time I checked who was the one that was bad at remembering their birth control?”

“Who could have gotten a vasectomy years ago?” he laughed, loving that you were able to give it all right back to him.  

“Alright, I’ll give you that one,” he threw open the bedroom door and immediately ushered you towards the bed, “it was both of us.”

“Yes - but no regrets,” you insisted and nodded in agreement. You sat down and stopped for a moment, suddenly feeling very conscious of what you were wearing. You were in an oversized, old ratty sweater, and some unassuming pajama shorts. It wasn’t anything special and it made you grimace for a moment. Javi seemed to catch and put finger under your chin and turned your face up towards his, “hi.”

“Hi,” he repeated tenderly, “what’s on your mind?”

“No-”

“Don’t lie to me,” his eyebrows raised and you stuck your tongue out at him, “we’ve been together over ten years now. I know you a little better than that.”

“It’s just….look at me,” you pointed at yourself, and he shrugged in confusion, “I just feel…not very sexy. Not that I have to feel that way, but I feel frumpy. Like a sad and frumpy mom.”

“Oh baby,” he got on his knees in front of you and gently took your face in his hands. You offered him a soft smile; getting all emotions; over this hadn’t been part of your plan, “you could be wearing a potato sack and you would still be the most beautiful thing in the world. You are so gorgeous and you don’t even have to try.”

“But I could-”

“But we could be or do a lot of things,” he dragged his thumb along your lower lip, “but I love you just like this. You’re perfect to me. And I couldn’t care less if you were in old pajamas or lingerie or nothing at all. Nothing could make me love you any less. I could only love you more - and I do every day.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed in between your sniffles and a huge grin grew across his face, “why do you always have to be so wonderful? I love you so much, Javier. So, so much.”

“I love you too,” he grinned and leaned up to kiss you, “I mean it though.”

“I know,” you promised, scooting back on the bed and tugging on his arm to pull him along with you, “now touch me. Need you, Javier.”

“I can do that,” he made quick work of undoing the buttons on his shirt and tossing to the side. He  got on the bed, his legs around yours as he leaned down to kiss you, caging you in between his arms. You felt like you were going to melt into putty at the feel of his lips all over your body. He tugged on the hem of your sweater, “may I?”

“Yes,” you were already breathless as he gently started to pull the fabric up your body, hands gently skimming over your soft skin. Gooseflesh raised with every little bit of his touch and your tummy felt like it was all butterflies. His touch was reverent and tender as he pulled off your sweater and tossed it to the side to join his shirt. You hadn’t been wearing a bra and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes widened. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbones. You made a small sound of happiness as he leaned back and studied you. His fingertips ghosted over some of the stretch marks you’d acquired over the years. Sometimes they made you feel self conscious but they were there for a good reason. And he always reminded you of that, “every little part of you.”

“So are you,” you put your hand on top of his where it rested on your belly and gave it a gentle squeeze. His hand drifted to the waistband of your shorts and he gave them a playful little tug that caused you to snort in amusement, “take ‘em off. Unless you don’t wanna-”

“Never,” he playfully nipped at your neck, causing you to sigh wistfully at the feeling on your delicate skin, “I’d never say no to you. Dulzura.”

“So don’t start now,” you nudged him with your leg, “please.”

“Say no more,” he hooked his fingers in the side of your shorts and pulled them down in one fluid motion, letting them join the growing pile. He inhaled sharply at the sight of you on the bed, bare and looking up at him with soft eyes, “like a work of art.”

“You’re wearing too much,” you playfully frowned, hooking a friend through his belt loop, “lose the pants.”

He chuckled warmly before making quick work of stripping down. You looked at him with dark eyes and a hungry look that caused him to tilt his head to the side in amusement, “can I help you?”

“I think you can,” you feigned innocence as you gently nudged him to the side before straddling his hips. He made a low sound, a guttural thing as his hands found purchase on your hips, "you look like you've got something to say, handsome. What is it, hmm?"

"Fuck me," he whispered in awe as you grinned like the Cheshire cat, "please."

"I can do that," you leaned down to kiss him softly, "with pleasure. I love you, Javi.”

“I love you more, Dulzura.”

[hrts4kyo]

Music to my ears. —★

♡dom!jiung x fem!reader

♡ genre: smut. stricty, mdni. (wc; 1.5k)

♡ sypnosis: No matter what you did, you could not relieve your desires or that feeling of need. Even though Jiung told you to not contact him and to leave him alone at the studio so he could record his songs, you gave in to your temptation once again . . .

♡ warnings: degration !! — (slut + etc) semi-public sex (studio), masturbation, dry-humping, rough (??) Jiung.

♡ song recs: Coming down — the weeknd + Heartbeat — childish gambino. ✮

You were quickly awoken from your trance after hearing the distracting sound that buzzed from your phone. You groaned loudly, dissapointment settling at the pit of your stomach. Undeniably, since around 9pm, you had been horny, and matter what you did, you just couldn’t relieve yourself.

to make matters worse, Jiung was not home to help you. Instead, he was in the studio recording for his new album he was set to release soon. Due to the strict deadlines his company had set, seeing him had become more difficult than anything else, so you both agreed to call each other if you needed something. Yet, tonight was different. There was only one week left to finish the final track, and Jiung had strictly told you to not call him unless it was urgent, saying he really needed to get the song done before midnight.

Of course, being the good girlfriend you were, you agreed and smothered him in kisses before he went to go to the recording studio. Now though? you regretted it. A lot.

You pulled your hand out from your shorts and grabbed a small towel located to the side of your bed, collecting and cleaning the arousal that had spalyed across your own hand with a sigh. You turned your phone over; only to see a notification from Jiung on weverse. You smiled to yourself, clicking open the turquoise notifcation that displayed itself brightly on your screen.

10:11 pm JIUNG WEVERSE

“break time ~ recording for this album is nearly done…who’s excited?”

You chuckled seeing the small selfie he had attached to the post, admiring his beautiful features as you sat up straight, leaning your legs over the edge of the bed. You continued to look at the post as an idea occured in your head. An idea that Jiung probably wouldn’t like. But, he’d probably make an acception for you, right?

You immediately got out of bed, throwing an oversized sweatshirt on to cover your bare torso, and changing into a clean pair of shorts. You grabbed your keys and put on your most comfortable shoes, rushing out of the house to get to Jiungs recording studio.

. . .

You clicked open the doors to Jiungs room after kindly asking one of Jiungs close friends; Intak to lend you his ID card into the studio. He agreed after a bit of questioning, yet he seemed to not believe anything you said about just wanting to hear the demo, he shook his head, smiling as he gave you the id sceptically.

“Don’t be too loud. Keeho and Theo are recording in the studio next to you both.” He laughed, turning his back as he shut the door and went towards Soul and Jongseobs office. Your eyes widened, your hand coming up to touch your face to see if you were blushing and he could just see right through you.

You rolled your eyes, finally opening the door fully to see Jiung tapping his knee up and down as his hands clicked on the multiple buttons infront of him, editing the track on the huge computer. You sat down on the couch behind his desk, waiting for him to realise and turn around, yet, he didn’t.

“Intak— why are you sitting down come here we gotta— oh.” Jiung turned around quickly, his mouth propping open as he saw you sitting down on the couch infront of him instead of the person he was supposed to be recording with.

“Baby, what happened? I told you i was on a strict deadline and—“

“Jiung i need you so bad.”

Jiungs eyes widened, his knee stopping and his voice dropping until he stopped speaking. He leaned back on his chair, Resting his head on his hand that was propped on the armrest,

“What did i tell you before leaving sweetheart?” Jiung questioned, eyeing you up and down.

You felt your body heat up, cheeks turning a slight tinge of pink as you watched the way Jiungs eyes took in every curve of your body. Exploring every inch without even touching you.

“I know, I tried to help myself but I couldn’t. Please jiung…” You were practically begging, your legs rubbing against each other as your hands fiddled with the hem of your shorts.

Jiung rubbed his temple, smiling to himself as he shook his head slowly.

“God baby, you cant even go a single day without me. Without my touch. What a slut.” Jiung tapped his hand on his thigh, nodding his head as he signalled you to come over.

You squealed, jumping up from the couch and sitting in his lap as you sunk into him and his touch. His breath fanned on your collarbone, shivers running down your spine as your entire body shook.

“If you came here for your own pleasure, then you’re gonna do it all by yourself. I dont care if that means you rut against my thigh like a bitch in heat, just get it done and over with, yeah? Jiung hummed in your ear, placing one light kiss the the nape of your neck as he got back to working on the song.

You couldn’t do anything but agree, he was already doing more than enough by allowing you to chase your high using him despite being so busy, and you were thankful for that. You slipped your hand under your sweatshirt, internally thanking yourself for not wearing a bra. You began to lightly skim over your chest, arousal already pooling at your core. As your fingers traced over your perked up nipples, you found yourself on Jiungs right thigh, your two legs wrapped around him as you leaned into his chest. You begun to move your hips ever so slowly, the texture of his jeans easily being felt through your thin shorts.

The roughness felt nice against your clothed pussy, your lacey underwear sticking to your now dripping cunt. You could feel Jiungs thigh tense up, and as he tensed, his muscles flexed and this drove you into picking up your momentum. As you continued to rut against his thigh, you shut your eyes tightly and moaned quietly, trying to muffle the sounds of pleasure that was builiding at your throat.

You bit the back of your hand as you threw you head back, continuing to chase your high with Jiung. Despite trying to stay focused on his work, Jiung couldn’t help but get turned on from the your eyebrows arched together in pure ecstasy, and muffled moans escaped your mouth every now and then.

Within an instant, Jiung had grabbed the hand that covered your mouth, bringing it down so it could rest on his other thigh.

“No need to be quiet baby, let me hear you.” Jiung whispered, kissing your hand and up your arm.

You moaned loudly at his words, not realising his hand sneak up to the record button that was located on his desk near the small microphone. Jiung began marking you, biting down at your neck as he kissed all over you.

“Look at you…dripping wet on my thigh like the horny bitch you are,” Jiung groaned sweet nothings into your ear, finally sending you over the edge as you rubbed against his thigh one last time. You moaned loudly, causing Jiung to smile at himself as he realised how he could sample your beautiful voice onto the track. It was just what he needed.

“That’s right, cum on my thigh baby” Jiung quickly grabbed a fistfull of your hair, gently yet harshly bringing your face closer to the microphone as he stripped you of your last audible moans.

You felt your whole body weaken as he brung you back into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as you softly lay your head in the crook of his neck. You were out of breath, your chest heaving up and down as you sat in the pool of your own slick.

“That felt..so good. I’m sorry for disturbing you I can leave now if you wa—“ You were cut off by Jiung hushing you.

“You were perfect for me y/n. And your beautiful voice was just what I needed to complete this track, music to my ears baby.” Jiung smiled, brushing his hand through your messy hair.

You looked at him in confusion. not understanding how your voice had any relevance to the track. Jiung noticed the look on your face and smiled, he turned your head to the computer infront of you and clicked play. Within an instant, your moans could be heard loudly from the speakers that surrounded the studio.

Your eyes widened and you immediately yelled at Jiung to turn it off.

“the others are going to hear! stop!” Jiung laughed as he turned it off right after you asked, making sure to not make you uncomfortable.

“Oh baby, its not just the members that’ll be hearing your sweet voice, it’ll be everyone that listens to this song.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try sweetheart”

please reblog and like !! — lmk if you enjoyed it, and remember, requests are always open!!

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: blue whale

It's the one-year anniversary of my Wet Beast Wednesday posts. My first post was on the smallest of all cetaceans, the vaquita. For the anniversary, I'm going to go to the other end of the spectrum and cover the largest of all cetaceans: the mighty blue whale. Join me as we explore the biggest of bois, the largest of lads, and the absolutest of units.

(Image: a blue whale at the surface of the ocean, seen from above. It is long, slender, and grey. The head is the widest point and takes up about a quarter of the body. The blowholes are positioned at the back of the head. Two flippers emerge from the body just behind the head. The tail fluke is very broad and pointed. End ID)

Blaenoptera musculus, the blue whale, is divided into four subspecies based on size and location. These are the northern blue whale (B. m. musculus), the north Indian ocean blue whale (B. m. indica), the antarctic blue whale (B. m. intermedia), and the pygmy blue whale (B. m. brevicauda). The northern and pygmy whales are further subdivided into population stocks based on what part of their range they live in. Blue whales are not only the largest cetaceans, they are the largest known animals to have ever existed. There are animals that can get longer, like the lion's mane jellyfish, but blue whales are the most massive animals. There are some extinct species that could potentially meet or exceed the blue whale in size, including some ichthyosaurs, whales, and sauropods, but all those species are known only from skeleton fragments so we can't get a fully accurate estimate of their size. Size varies depending on subspecies and population stock, but the longest group are the eastern north Pacific population, which can reach an average 24 m (79 ft). The antarctic subspecies is the heaviest, averaging 130 metric tons (290,000 lbs) for females. Females are larger than males. The pygmy subspecies is the smallest, though small is a relative term as they can still average 21.3 m (69.9 ft) and 99 metric tons (218,000 lbs). The longest scientifically measured individual was 30 m (98 ft), though there are unconfirmed reports of longer ones. The heaviest blue whale on record weighed 173 metric tons (381,400 lbs), though there are whales estimated to get up to 199 metric tons (438,720 lbs). Blue whales also have the largest hearts of any animal. One specimen measured in at 180 kg (400 lbs). The heart is about the size of a golf cart and 4 or 5 people could fit inside the chambers without having to squeeze. There's a commonly-quoted factoid that a person could swim through a blue whale's arteries without touching the sides. I wasn't able to find any exact measurements to confirm or refute this. I did find some sources saying that the blood vessels are highly elastic so its possible the factoids are talking about the arteries at their most stretched. Each heartbeat moves 220 liters of blood and the total blood volume is estimated at 5,300 liters. The heartbeat can be heard two miles away. I really just want to impress on you that these animals are fucking massive. A study on hydrodymanics suggested that a blue whale couldn't get longer than 33 meters (108 ft) before its metabolic and energy requirements would exceed the amount of food it could eat. Blue whales are verging on what is theoretically the maximum amount of big a whale can be.

(Image: an illustration comparing the size of a blue whale to other animals and showing their size. The whale is about as long as a line consisting of a polar bear, grizzly bear, human, asian elephant, giraffe, and great white shark. End ID. Source)

Blue whales are baleen whales, meaning that instead of teeth they have thick, keratinous plates called baleen attached to the upper jaw. When feeding, blue whales open their mouths and swim through clouds of krill. The mouth can open to 80 degrees and folds at the bottom let it expand to fit 220,000 liters of water at a time. The whale them closes its mouth and forces water out through the baleen. The baleen acts as a sieve, trapping krill in the mouth to be swallowed. Blue whales target patched of krill with the highest densities as their feeding style requires a minimum of 100 krill per cubic meter to offset the energy cost of feeding. Most mouthfuls provide 8,312 to 475,141 kilocalories of energy, more than enough to offset the cost of feeding. The current estimate for how much krill an adult needs in a day is 1,120 ± 359 kg (2,469 ± 791 lbs) and pregnant females need even more than that. Blue whales will dive in search of food, with the deepest confirmed depth being a pygmy blue whale that reached 506 m (1,660 ft). The deepest known dive from a non-pygmy blue whale was 315 m (1,033 ft). The longest recorded dive was 15.2 minutes and the estimated maximum dive duration is 31.2 minutes. During dives, a blue whale's heartbeat slows to 2 beats per minute, the slowest of any known animal. The elastic aorta seems to take over a lot of the heart's pumping job during this time. Blue whales are streamlined and similar in appearance to the relates sei whales and fin whales. Blue and fin whales are capable of hybridizing and producing fertile offspring. 3.5% of the blue whale genome comes from hybridization with fin whales. While blue whales can produce hybrid offspring with fin whales, the reverse is not true and the gene flow from fin to blue is unidirectional. It appears that all hybrids are the result of a fin father and a blue mother. Interestingly, blue whales do not appear to be capable of hybridizing with the more closely related sei whales. There are unconfirmed reports of blue whale and humpback whale hybrids. And because someone was going to bring it up if I didn't, the blue whale's penis is the largest of any animal at 3 m (9.8 ft) long and 30 cm (12 in) wide and they can release an estimated 17 liters of semen at a time. I know someone out there desperately wanted to know that and to that person I say you're whalecum.

(Image: a blue whale feeding at the surface of the ocean on its side, seen from above. The mouth is open with the troat and lower mouth inflated. It is swimming into a patch of krill, visible as yellowish coloration in the water. End id)

Blue whales can be found worldwide, though they typically prefer colder water and do not enter the Arctic ocean. They are usually solitary or travel in pairs, but can gather in groups up to 50 strong when food is abundant. Many are migratory, feeding in cold water during the summer and moving toward the equator in winter. They can follow complex migratory patterns that have to be memorized. There are multiple different strategies employed by different populations regarding who migrates when and some populations don't migrate at all. Their vocalizations are used for long-distance and short-range communication and scientists have classified multiple different types of sounds produced. Different populations of whales have different patterns of vocalizations which may be akin to languages or dialects. Blue whale sounds are some of the loudest and lowest frequency produced by any animal and most are too low-frequency to be audible to humans. Mating season happens in winter. Males use vocalizations to attract females, who they then court through special noises, blowing bubbles, inflating their mouths, chasing, and slapping the water with their flippers. Males compete with each other for the chance to mate. Once a female chooses a male, they will mate and then separate. Gestation takes 10 to 12 months. Newborn blue whales are the largest babies in the animal kingdom at 6-7 m (20-23 ft) and 2-3 metric tons (4409 to 6614 lbs). Mother produce between 110 and 320 kg (240 - 710 lbs) of milk daily. Claves are weaned between 6 and 8 months once they hit 16 m (53 ft) and have gained about 17,000 kg (37,500 lbs). Females typically mate every 2 to 3 years. Blue whale become sexually mature at 8-10 years old and can live over 90 years, with the oldest on record being 110 years old. Their age can be determined by earwax, which is laid down in rings like trees.

(Image: a mother blue whale (background) and calf (foreground). The baby is already very large and is a lighter grey than the mother. The baby is seen from the sied while the mother is rotates to show her underside. End ID)

All blue whale subspecies are classified as endangered by the IUCN, with the antarctic subspecies being critically endangered. Blue whales were heavily impacted during whaling, with their population dropping to the point of near-extinction. Since the end of whaling, populations have risen to an estimated 10,000 to 25,000 as of the end of 2023. This is still smaller than their pre-whaling population, but they have recovered quite a bit. The current largest threats to blue whales are climate change, collisions with ships, and human created noise. The effects of anthropogenic noise from shipping lanes on aquatic animals is still poorly understood, though it seems to greatly irritate and even harm whales, forcing them to change their migratory routes and avoid shipping lanes. Interestingly, as the population has increased scientists have noted changes in courtship behavior and vocalization tone. It is hypothesizes that the increasing population is resulting in greater competitive pressure between males for the right to mate.

(Image: a blue whale seen from the side. Its head is toward the camera. The lower jaw as larger and thicker than the upper jaw. The animal is streamlined. The eye is just behind the mouth and small. Further back is a paddle-shaped flipper. End ID)

[lethalchiralium]

No More | [4] | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: i went off the rails LMAO. (quick note: roos is not the toxic ex-boyfriend 🤍 he’s my baby. he’s my good time boy. there is extra drama/tea associated with him though, you’re just gonna have to wait 🥰) ptsd is a real thing people!

NOTE: Your 141 Callsign is Mercy. Your Top Gun Callsign is Reaper, you no longer go by that callsign.

word count: 6,3k (astounding!)

warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mentions of assault, trauma, vague allusions of domestic abuse (no one from 141!), cussing, medical attention/inaccuracies, mentions of blood, PTSD-induced nightmares.

summary: You really thought that sleep would do you good. You also thought that if you kept to yourself and did your job, Ghost would trust you more. Unfortunately, you take three steps back. Soap and Gaz are your therapy people, Cerby tries to help and Ghost tries his best to understand you.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

“You never listen to me!”

You heard the sound of drywall cracking right next to your ear, your heart pulsing in your ear as you felt those familiar yet unfamiliar hands against your throat - squeezing.

The feeling in your chest was one you never wanted to feel again, but you did now - it was betrayal of full trust in someone. You felt your hands move onto the ones gripping your throat, eyes unwilling to open because you knew you’d be face to face with your ex-boyfriend, Jake.

“You’re gonna pay attention, right now.”

Your eyes flew open then, the squeezing of your throat gone and your hands on the joystick of your jet. The comfort of your helmet blanketed your head, the screeching of alarms in your ear as you took huge breaths.

“Eject! Eject! Eject!”

Your hands reached down, grabbing the ejection handle and pulling. Pulling and pulling. Your hands flew back onto the joystick, sticking your head to the side to try and find somewhere flattish in the mountains to land.

You had only closed your eyes for one second before the scene changed again, a bright flashlight flashed into the store front you were hiding in. You could hear people yelling in a language you didn’t know, all you could feel were your hands on your pistol and how ice cold the ground felt against your back. Your breaths were taught like a string, strained and small. You couldn’t give up now, not when you had to get home to your family.

The door to the back room you were in slammed against the wall, a flashlight shined brightly in your face before everything went black.

You didn’t even recognize your bedroom when you jolted awake, launching yourself off of your bed and almost breaking your arm when you tumbled to the floor. You knew exactly where your gear was, you grabbed the knife out of its sheath and scrambled to the corner of your room. Your heartbeat was in your ears, your throat swollen, eyes wide and terror rumbled throughout your whole body. You couldn’t stop the loud sobs that left your throat, one hand clutched the knife while you buried your face into your elbow.

You felt like you were back in that store, rifle pressed against your forehead as you plead for your life in low whispers. You had said your feeble prayers, praying they’d find you years later - body decomposed and only bones left so your father and the man you loved wouldn’t have to ID you.

All you could feel was that fear and the certainty that you would become another casket to bury, if they sent anyone to find your body.

“Mercy. Hey, hey-“

You didn’t recognize Simon’s voice, your heartbeat in your ears as you pressed your entire back to the wall, knife held up as you looked up. As soon as you saw the painted skull of his balaclava, you launched forwards. The red tactical knife was held so tightly in your hand as you aimed it straight for his throat, his hands gripped your wrists and kept the knife inches from him. You’re not going to hurt me anymore, not anymore. It’s you or me.

“Mercy, it’s me-“ He grunted, you pushed every fiber of your weight onto the knife, plunging it another inch. Your knees were on either side of his hips, trapping him. He growled, bucking his hips and catching you off guard. Your grip loosened a little, your balance now thrown off as he twisted himself, throwing you onto your back. You screeched in surprise, raising your hand back and slashing his arm. The sting made him wince, watching as your head hit the floor hard. Blood began to drip on your shirt, the knife now pointed back at at his chest. His hand pressed your arm to your stomach, twisting it so you let go. You yelped in pain, and he moved forwards, his hand hit the hardwood beside your head hard.

And that sound right next to your ear made you flinch, made a flash of your ex-boyfriend appear instead of Simon’s masked face. You let out a breathless sob, panting as you felt control flood through your body. Your tear filled eyes fluttered, looking down and to how his free hand kept your wrist in a death grip.

You heard the knife clatter against the ground when it slipped from your torso; you watched blood drip down his tattooed arm.

“Y/N, you with me?”

You breathed out a sound of pain, agony - your eyes screwed shut as you felt nauseous. Chills ran down your back, yet you felt as if you were aflame. You had hurt him, you had hurt Simon. The one thing you promised you’d never hurt, one of the more stable relationships you’ve had in a long time. You felt like your last long term boyfriend then. Was this how it felt in the beginning for him? When he’d lay his fists on you when he was drunk, sobbing hysterically that he never meant to hurt you. Was this how Jake felt?

And how you had reacted was the same way you had years after with Rooster - him scaring you and you almost killing him out of fear.

You felt disgusting.

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” Your voice was hoarse, sobs leaving your lips as your chest shook. He sat back, his legs straddling your hips. He let go of your wrist, going to take your hand but you ripped it away.

“Love.”

Your gaze felt like the knife, ripping his skin open again. Agony held like a flame in them, flickering as tears rolled down the sides of your face. You dragged yourself backwards and out from under him, you moved until your back hit the wall again. Your eyes stayed on the blood that began to drip onto the floor before you buried your face into your knees when you pulled them to your chest.

“Nothin’ but a scratch.” He murmured, eyes watching as your body shook - no noise escaped your lips. He watched as you trembled like a terrified animal, he thought reaching out might push you off the edge. “Y/N, I’m fine.”

You moved your head to look at him, eyes full of tears. Your hand balled into a fist as you gazed back down at your arm. “I…I hurt…” You hiccuped. “I hurt you, Simon.”

He looked down at the blood on his arm, not even worried about it. His gaze fell back to yours. “Nothin’ you can’t fix.”

“I could’ve killed you.”

He clicked his tongue, moving to sit on his ass instead of his knees. He landed with a humorless thud, stretching his legs out to either side of you - still not touching you. “It would’ve been the best way to go.”

“Simon.” Your voice was dull, the warning in it barely there but he heard it.

He cleared his throat. “You were scared.”

“You won’t trust me now.”

Simon had worked hard to keep his halves separate now, keep Ghost detached from Simon so he couldn’t hurt you more with his defense mechanisms - yet, they’ve imprinted in your brain. He can’t erase that. And it wasn’t like saying it was doing the trick either; he didn’t know what to do.

He leaned to the side, pulling your vest from its discarded place on the floor and ripped off the first aid kit. He tossed it back and ripped open the kit, starting to treat the small wound. As soon as he finished wrapping the bandage around his arm, he whistled.

There was a loud thud as the door opened, Cerberus scurried across the hardwood floor and dove into you. Your arms were immediately around your dog, burying your face into his neck while Simon moved forward. Cerby was a good distraction because he placed his hand on your knee, then placing his other on your cheek. You froze, moving your head to look up at him. “Baby, you were scared.” His thumb drew circles on your knee.

“I still… hurt you.” You mumbled, Cerby licking your face. Your hands moved him away, he continued to lick you on your arm. I hurt the one person I love more than anything.

“And I’ll live. Not broken yet.” He whispered, showing off his new white bandage. “Now you’ll always be with me.” You broke into another fit of cries as the smile under his mask dropped instantly. “Oh shit, fuck, I didn’t-“

You buried your face into Cerby again, the dog made an awkward yap before looking to Ghost for help. He dropped the hand from your cheek, keeping his other on your knee. He stared at the dog, silently telling him stay there and be a good boy because he is royally fucking up.

“Why don’t blind guys skydive?”

You didn’t respond.

“Scares the shit out of their dogs.”

He hoped you would crack a smile, stop crying, anything that signaled you weren’t upset anymore. He had no idea what to do, so he continued.

“Why was the strawberry crying?”

Silence.

“He was in a jam.”

Your head moved a little, eyes locked with his. A smirk tugged at his lips, relief washed through his veins faster than any whiskey he’s had.

“Okay, two goldfish are in a tank.”

You blinked.

“One looks at the other and says, ‘You know how to drive this thing?’”

You just stared at him, which made him feel even worse.

“Little army humor.”

“Very little.” You muttered, eyes looking back to your dog, who was staring at you as well. He whined a little, his paw coming to set on your stomach. You pet his head a little before looking back at Simon. “I’m sorry.”

Simon shook his head, moving closer to you - all you did was stare at him through teary eyes. “You did what you trained to do. I’m proud to know that I don’t have to worry about someone killing you in your sleep.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It does for me.” He answered, moving his hand from your knee to your shoulder. “Come back to bed.”

“I won’t sleep.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“I-I can’t hurt you again.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line underneath his balaclava, hands moving to settle under your shoulders. He gently picked you up, letting you wrap your arms and legs around his torso before standing. He gently walked back to your messy bed, plucking you from his chest and placing you on the bed. Cerby made the risky move of setting his paw on the bed, to which Simon shooed him. The dog let out a loud whine in annoyance, going to sit next to your side of the bed. He settled his head on the sheets right next to your pillow, sniffing your face as you laid back down.

He moved to the other side of the bed, getting in and pulling the duvet up to your chin before tucking himself in. You kept your back to him, he could see how your body shook.

He placed his hand on your side. “I know that you’d never hurt me on purpose.”

Your hand settled on Cerby’s head, your dog whined a little before licking your nose just once.

“Just…” He swallowed the nervousness in his throat, unsure how to proceed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were protecting yourself, I shouldn’t have approached you.”

You scratched your dog’s ear, he gazed at you like you put the sun in the sky. Simon watched you from over your shoulder, yet he couldn’t see your face.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.” He whispered, gently rubbing your side as he watched you until he couldn’t fend off sleep anymore.

—

It wasn’t normal for you to not be in the medical ward, Soap had remarked to Gaz. The two boys were looking for you, trying to settle a debate that Ghost wouldn’t input on. That and they were hiding from Price.

They had searched the base high and low, not wanting to end up at your office but that’s how their search ended - both men standing in front of your door, shuffling on their feet. They glanced at each other, neither wanting to knock since the last time they had a debate and knocked on your door, there was a certain Lieutenant in there.

“Sergeants.”

They whipped their heads around, seeing you standing in the hallway - a clipboard held to your chest, a salad container in the other hand and a hollow gaze in your eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gotten hurt again already, Soap.” You said, the men glanced at each other before back to you.

“No no, we just have a question, is all.” Gaz spoke first, turning to look behind him. “And to hide from Price.”

You rolled your eyes, approaching them. They moved away from the door, letting you unlock the door and push it open. Cerberus was quick to jump from your cot, skittering across the floor to Gaz, his third favorite person in the whole wide world. The dog yapped, tail wagging so hard that it kept hitting Soap’s shin, the Scot muttered words of annoyance before he moved out of the way. Gaz shut the door behind you three as you flipped on the various warm light lamps you had around the room.

“You lot came to annoy me?” You half-heartedly joked, going to settle in the shitty excuse of an office chair the military gave you. Cerberus had his paws on Gaz’s chest, tail still wagging a hundred miles an hour as Soap flopped onto your cot. “Or dodge chores?”

“Dodgin’ paperwork.” Soap groaned, moving to roll over so he laid on his stomach. Gaz was quick to sit in the seat across from you, Cerby pawed at him.

“That and we wanna know if Minecraft or Rainbow Six is better.” The Brit crossed his arms, glaring at Soap as your eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“You came to my office.”

“Yeh.” Soap.

“To ask me if Minecraft or Rainbow Six is a better video game?” You opened your salad container, pouring out the only good dressing the base had into it.

“Yes.” Gaz continued, you glanced at both of them before closing the lid of your salad and shaking it.

You shook your head too before setting your food down on your desk, your clipboard had been discarded on top of one of your filing cabinets. “Ghost put you up to checkin’ on me?”

The men looked at each other before looking to you, both confused. Gaz spoke. “What?”

“Just checking.” You answered, opening your salad and began to eat. You hadn’t talked to Simon this morning - in fact, you were gone by the time his alarm went off. You couldn’t face him.

“‘m not gettin’ in between another squabble.” Soap remarked, you rolled your eyes.

“Not a squabble.” You mocked him, opening your phone to check some emails from your subordinates. You read through rundowns of patient care, some patients being flown out of base into the city for surgical treatment due to an accidental misfire.

Silence then fell upon the room except for Cerby’s panting and the clink of his own tags as Gaz scratched his neck. You took a couple more bites of your salad before tossing the fork into the plastic container, taking your phone in both hands to respond to the email. You sent it, scrolling through another email before a text popped up on the top of your screen.

KEEGAN: Doing okay?

What is with everyone today?

YOU: Fine.

Another text popped up on the screen.

MAV: Hey honey, how are you?

You almost chucked your phone at the wall, but you slightly kept your composure as you sat back in your chair, nostrils flaring. Everything was getting on your nerves now.

YOU: Fine. What’s up?

MAV: Had a feeling you weren’t doing well. Just wanted to check on you

YOU: I’m fine.

Please Dad, for the love of all that is holy, fucking drop it.

MAV: Can I call you sometime today?

You wanted to bang your head against your desk and crack open your skull, let yourself bleed out because talking to your dad meant that he talked about Top Gun. When he talks about Top Gun, you can’t sleep for a week - not like you were gonna sleep anyway, guilt was eating you alive.

YOU: I’ll call you.

Another notification.

KEEGAN: Ghost told me about last night.

Of fucking course he did. He probably had to get advice on what to do with you. You bit your tongue before tossing your phone onto your desk, startling Gaz and Cerby - Soap was passed out on your cot.

“Sure you’re alright, Doc?”

You glanced at Gaz. “Peachy, Gazzy.”

The man in question whistled, “Sounds like someone’s gettin’ wrath sometime soon.”

“I’d say.” You mumbled, wiping your hand down your face. “You know, you can’t hide here forever. He’ll find out you hide here and then you’ll have to find somewhere else.”

Gaz groaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “If I have to look at one more signature line, think my head’ll explode.”

There came a knock at the door, Gaz shot straight up and bounded for the cot, slamming onto Soap’s sleeping body while you stood from your chair. You made enough noise by stomping to the door as Cerby whined loudly, yapping at Gaz on the cot while he tried to shush him.

You opened the door just a little, expecting to see Ghost, but it was Price. The man was strapped up in his gear, placing his boonie hat on his head as he said, “We’ve got a mission. And if you see the muppets,” He made a point to call over your head, “We’ve got to be on the tarmac in 20. Let’s go.”

“Thank you, Price.” You smiled, he looked back to you with a grin.

“You can’t hide them forever.”

You shrugged. “Was trying to get something out of it before I handed them over.”

“Good lad.” He nodded before walking away, you shut the door quickly and looking bat your friends.

Gaz’s hand was over Soap’s mouth, but he quickly retracted it and yelped, “You bit me!”

“You put yer hand near me mouth!” The Scot argued, Gaz immediately got up from their shared hiding spot to hold his hand out to you. You gently took it in your grasp.

Just a little bite, nothing more than marks but Gaz still said, “Test me for rabies.”

Soap burst out laughing, you gave him a quizzical look. “You’re gonna be fine, didn’t break skin.” You let go of his hand, Cerberus shoved his snout into Gaz’s bitten hand to sniff it.

“He bit me.”

“I heard.”

“Maybe ya deserved it!” The Scot spat, Gaz’s head whipped back to look at his friend, he almost looked as if he was going to tackle him.

You looked down at your watch. “Tick tock, boys. It matters if you’re on time or not, I’m sure you heard the captain.”

“Oh shit.” They both said, then scrambling out of your office - leaving the door open as they did. You immediately poked your head out into the hallway, calling after them, “If you’re not there in 10, I’m telling Price!”

-

You were in your gear in less than five minutes, your guns held in their holsters or strapped to your back. Your rucksack was on your back as you watched Cerberus make leaps and bounds towards his trainer - Price decided that the search and rescue dog would not be needed this time around.

Your hand was on your work phone, a secure line to other soldiers and fellow officers. You were walking down the side of the base, privates and sergeants rushing past as helicopters and planes were being prepared. It stung like a bullet to dial the number, but here you were - walking towards your team while talking to your father who you haven’t talked to in months. Great. You pressed the phone to your ear.

It only took a couple ring before you heard him pick up, “Captain Mitchell.”

It took just a moment for you to speak. “Hey, Mav.”

“Hey sweetheart!” You heard the familiar whoosh of a jet taking off in the background, your other hand held onto your rucksack strap a little tighter. “It’s good to hear your voice, bug.”

You didn’t know how to continue. You couldn’t talk to him about missions, and he knew nothing of the Task Force or your personal life anymore. Last he knew was that you and Rooster were splitting up. One goes to Korea, the other goes to the UK - both broken-hearted. Wingmen no more. “Uh, you too.”

“I asked to call at a bad time, then?” His voice was calming to you, it always has been. You knew that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, but he still hurt Rooster - and it was hard to pick just one side when you loved them both so much.

You noticed that Soap and Gaz were running across the tarmac, Soap staring at his watch as Gaz made the effort to get in front of him. A smile appeared on your lips. “I had a minute to spare.”

He chuckled on the line, you watched as Gaz tripped over his feet but still gracefully caught himself - Soap now in the lead as they rapidly approached the plane you were leisurely walking towards. “Well, it’s nothing special. Ice just wanted me to invite you to the Navy Ball this year.”

You chuckled. “If I’m even on break then, which I never am.”

“Oh, he’s already put in the request for you. Even said that he wants your Task Force to come too, your team has provided the Pacific Fleet with a lot and he wants to thank you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed - you were now halfway across the tarmac, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t say, he didn’t tell. He just wants to thank you in person.” He cleared his throat. “I’m trying to get Rooster to come, but you know how he is.”

Of course I know how he is. You ruined his self-esteem and derailed his life. Of course I know. I always remember, he’ll never let me forget it.

You were still confused. “You want him there?” You were getting closer to the plane, noticing that Alejandro was walking up the ramp with his things in tow. Still no Ghost.

“Of course I do.” He’s your dead best friend’s son, your godson. “Ice also asked for him.”

It was laughable, it really was. Rooster would rather wither up and die than be seen in the same room as Maverick. You recalled his exact words: Put a bullet in between my eyes if I’m within one hundred feet of Mav. Always the one for dramatics. “So you’re asking me to ask him?”

“…Maybe.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let go of the strap on your shoulder, that hand coming to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Get off your high horse and do it yourself.”

“He’s blocked me on everything.”

“And this isn’t grade school.” You commented, now walking up the ramp into the plane. “You’re his superior. Grow some balls and act like it.”

Your father laughed over the line. “Who raised you? Jesus.”

You rolled your eyes as you passed Alejandro - you felt his gaze burn your skin. You ignored it. “Tell him that I’ll do this one favor, and I’ll give him my answer when I return from my mission.”

“Thank you so much, Reaper.”

There it is, your Naval Aviation callsign that you haven’t been called in six years. Even after all this time, you still didn’t have the heart to tell your father that Reaper had died those three weeks in Ukraine. What emerged was someone with a lot less light in their heart. Mercy.

“Yup.” You had passed Soap and Gaz earlier, they were still arguing. You made your way to near the front of the plane, shucking off your rucksack. It landed on the webbed seat next to where you planned to sit, you settled yourself down and rested the side of your head against your pack.

“Look, I’ll let you go. Promise to call me when you get back, okay? Wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Even though he had made life-altering mistakes with your lifelong best friend, he was still cared for him. He cared a lot for you too, being his only daughter - it never mattered that he had adopted you, he raised you to be better than him and never without the quick, “Love you, bug.” Even if all else failed in life, he would never leave you. Your father loved you, and it was nice to know that he wouldn’t abandon you.

You nodded to yourself. “Okay.”

“I know you can’t say it since you’re probably leaving, but I love you, bug. Bye.”

The line went dead and you pulled the phone from your ear, shoving it into your vest before leaning your head back onto the frame of the plane.

You could’ve gone another three years without being called Reaper, you stared at the ceiling of the plane before closing your eyes. You hadn’t been Reaper in a very long time, you were synonymous with Mercy. You were Mercy, the 141’s medic - a Captain who listened to orders and obeyed.

Someone sat beside you, knee brushing against your right one. You didn’t even have to guess who it was, no one would to get near you due to your personal guard dog. You opened your eyes, looking to your right to see the familiar skull staring right at you. You looked down at his arm that settled on his lap, your hands reached for it. He then moved it over to you, allowing you to roll up his sleeve to see the white bandage. You began to unravel it, you had to see what you had done.

Guilt swallowed you whole as you looked at the cut, it was long and almost deep enough for stitches.

“Jesus, LT, whadya do now?” Your gaze looked up to Soap, both him and Gaz were staring at his arm.

You almost opened your mouth to speak, tell the truth, but Ghost was a step ahead of you. “Scared her last night, she was cooking.”

Your eyes darted up to Ghost, almost in disbelief. I haven’t cooked in a year. You then looked to Soap, deciding very quickly to roll with it. “Uh, yeah. Sliced him good.”

“That’s what you get for scaring a lady, hermano.” Alejandro called from closer to the back of the plane, you looked to him before you watched Price ascend the ramp. If only Alejandro knew. The Captain made his way towards Soap and Gaz, who pressed themselves against the wall of the plane to try to disappear. He sat his rucksack three seats down from them, diagonal to you on the left.

“Gentlemen and lady,” Price nodded to you as you looked back down at Ghost’s arm, beginning to retrieve some new bandages and cleaning wipe. “The information that the Ghost Squad had obtained is of upmost importance - we are heading back to see if the information they retrieved connects back to Makarov. The uranium plant being built needs to be destroyed regardless, it won’t be by us. If it has information pertaining to Makarov, we need it.”

All of the boys voiced their agreements, you did as well as you cleaned the slash and began to bandage it.

“Ghost will be leading the recon into the government building, we have to be in and out as quickly as possible. Alejandro and Soap will go with him, Mercy, Gaz, and I will be on look out and keeping the area secure.”

You kept your mouth shut. You knew it was most likely Price’s decision to keep you separated from Ghost, but it still stung the fresh wound you had opened in your chest. You didn’t even stop working on Ghost when Price spoke, you had just began to secure it with metal hooks and beige bandages when he dismissed everyone. The ramp had been raised when he spoke.

“It would’ve been fine.” Ghost murmured, you had finished it. You tugged down his sleeve and began to pack up your medical shears into your vest. “I am fine.”

“Wasn’t supposed to happen.”

He huffed a little. “I know. I was fine then, and I’m fine now. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

You just gave him a look, the look that made him know that you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He nodded then, at least he was sort of good at knowing. Good man. It was going to be a long flight.

—

Three hours in. Soap and Gaz had separated, evenly splitting some webbed seats so they could sleep on the flight laying down. Price had covered himself with his poncho liner, Alejandro laid on seats as well - if he moved half a foot forwards, he’d be hitting boots with Gaz. You and Ghost sat alone on the left side of the plane, still sitting upright. Your hand had found its way into Ghost’s gloved one, both of your hands held it as you laid your head on his shoulder. He hadn’t spoken since before take off, you assumed he was asleep.

At this point, you were getting close to it. Your eyes were drooping, you could feel the warmth of slumber claw at you - but you still couldn’t fall asleep. You gazed at your hands, one thumb threaded across the back of his glove. If you closed your eyes long enough, you could see the bright red painted end of the rifle, shoved in your face. If you kept them closed longer, you could see your jet on fire as you limped away. You kept your gaze on his hand, grounding you - because now you could taste that phantom blood in your mouth, taste the disgusting bread and rabbit you had to live off of.

Something came into your vision, you immediately recognized it. It was one of Simon’s knives, the handle facing towards you. You looked up to your boyfriend, he gazed back down at you with a clouded stare.

“What’s this?”

He moved the handle forward, tapping an empty knife sheath near your shoulder. “Missin’ one.”

You glanced down, one hand leaving his and pushing the knife away. “Don’t need it.”

“We’re not going to be together this time ‘round and I can’t-“ Ghost paused. You could see how he mentally backspaced, staring, “I need you to have it.”

He would have normally said that he couldn’t protect you since you were separated. You gave him a smile. “Thank you.” Thank you for trying. You took the knife in your hand, noting that the knife was not yours - but one of his. A set you had purchased him for your one year anniversary, three knives engraved with SR. Did it cost a pretty penny? Yes. Was it worth him worshipping you for a day straight afterwards? Absolutely.

The silver SR glittered in the dim light of the aircraft against the black knife it was engraved on; dusk had clawed its way into the sky so the cabin wasn’t as bright as before. You then moved to place his knife in the empty sheath, then looked back at him again.

“What had you so scared?” Simon’s voice was low, quiet. “‘Cause I know that this wasn’t you not knowing where you were. You knew where your knife was.” His free hand went forward and tapped his knife in your sheath, his hazel eyes dark. “You’re always safe with me.”

The hun of engine was all that was heard for a moment, a never-ending moment. The moonlight began to light the cabin, your eyes gazed to your fellow soldiers, all out cold. Even Price, you could see his steady breaths. The hand that held his pulled it to your chest, resting your chin upon his glove.

The little thought crossed your mind that you should go back to therapy, but you never felt better when you were there in that office. Clock ticking, fish tank bubbling - the therapist you didn’t care for asking every nitty gritty detail of what happened. Simon wasn’t like that, Simon isn’t like that. Simon cared about what you said, cared how it affected you - not like the therapist who made everything worse.

C’mon, just tell him. It can’t be that hard, right? One word after the other, and then he’ll know.

But then he’ll pity me. He will lose whatever trust he has in me and leave, throw me to the wolves. I could lose my job if I let it affect me.

I can’t keep digging this hole, I might never come out.

You pressed your cheek into his shoulder again, slumping your body against his as best you could. Your hands moved from the one of his you held, moving to hold onto his arm. His words came back into your mind, ‘No one has stuck around this long anyway, you won’t hurt me.’ You squeezed his bicep, closing your eyes. “I’ll tell you when we get back, okay?”

He hummed in agreement. You took a deep breath, trying to let sleep begin to pull you under again. You felt his hand gently pet your head, consciousness began to slip from your grasp.

—

The slam of a wooden door made you tremble, you pressed yourself farther against the wall underneath the table you were hiding under. You had counted your bullets that morning, only seven left - you had used your last magazine on the Russians who came thirteen days ago. You were praying whoever was checking houses would shoot you, put you out of your misery.

Your stomach twisted in anxiety and hunger, you hadn’t eaten in three days. The burn on your side was still throbbing, probably infected - the medical supplies you had when you crashed had burned with the jet. You had only what you could scavenge in this abandoned town, nothing but old alcohol and rags to care for a burn, multiple slashes and a bullet wound from escaping the Russians. The least these scavengers could do was put you down.

You prayed. A silent prayer that they would leave your body here, let the US Government find your bones and cremate them, like you had stated in your file. Hand them to your father, your godfather, your best friend slash lover at the moment. You knew Rooster would do what you wanted. Chuck your ashes from a carrier into the ocean, no funeral. You weren’t sure he could do it though.

You could hear muffled talking, shouting outside. You slowed your breathing, pressing your ear to the wall - praying that it wasn’t Russians. Footfalls squelched against mud next to the worn down house, you pressed your knees closer to your chest.

You didn’t even hear the footsteps in the house until they had entered the kitchen, your eyes flickered to the checkered tile as boots hit them softly. You could see the mud caked on the brown canvas boots, you felt your heart in your throat. You said a little prayer in your head. You weren’t religious by any means, but you still went to church with Rooster’s mom, Carole, every now and again. It wasn’t anything long, just something to say to keep your mind occupied from the angel of death that stood feet from you.

The table was thrown to the side, your immediately reaction was to point your pistol into the flashlight pointed at you - your finger was on the trigger, but before you could sound off a shot, the hand of whoever had found you grabbed the barrel of your pistol and forced it to the ceiling while you pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening, your ears began to ring like church bells as the flashlight then pointed down. Black spots in your vision made it hard for you to see, but you recognized the beige patch of the United Kingdom flag. Your eyes flickered upwards, meeting gazes with a man with a well kept mustache and bright blue eyes. The rifle of which the flashlight was attached to was dropped from his other hand, it swayed from its attachment on his vest. Your grip on your pistol loosened, the man pulled it from you and tossed it onto the floor.

“Y/N Mitchell?” He stated, he sounded like he recognized you but you knew he needed to confirm. UK Soldiers were allies, this man was most definitely Special Forces by the way he carried himself and how quickly he was able to evade being shot.

Your freezing and empty hand dug into your shirt, pulling out your dog tags and nodding, whispering, “Reaper.” You coughed, your throat swollen from infection and no use. “My callsign… is Reaper.”

The man nodded in confirmed, hand flying to his radio as he leaned in to speak. “Watcher 1, this is Bravo 0-6.”

You heard no sound from the radio, but a little buzz from his ear.

He kept his eye contact on you as he spoke, “Sight on Romeo Echo Alpha. Target is alive, I repeat. Callsign Reaper is alive. I need medical evac.”

His hand left the radio, he kneeled down to your level. He held out a hand, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Name’s Captain John Price, I’m here to take you home, soldier.”

———

comment for part five!! tumblr won’t let me tag more than 50 so i’m very upsetti spaghetti :(

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i wasn’t able to tag everyone, i’m sorry!

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[explosionkatsu]

“Age doesn't matter,” 19

Dad!Bakugo x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader

Part 18

Days had gone by since Katsuki last saw you after that incident. He was glad that Mitsuki took care of Kazui for a while since he didn't know where to leave him except for his parents of course.

Katsuki has been arriving at an empty house and he doesn't like it. He doesn't like how it changed drastically all because of what he did.

A stupid shit...

“Bakugo! What happened?!” Eijiro was quick to his side when he saw his friend standing and obviously stunned.

“Katsuki!” Eijiro called out once again, this time shaking the stunned Katsuki who look finally blinked.

Katsuki just slowly turn his head to Eijiro and looked at him. He’s speechless. His breathing is rapid, his face is all sweaty, and his heartbeat is quick but painfully tight.

“Katsuki,” Eijiro called out for the third time. He was worried after he saw Y/n’s teary eyes.

“Kacchan!” Izuku called out running his way to Katsuki along with the others behind him. “Why was Miss Y/n crying?” Izuku asked worriedly.

Katsuki's eyes were blazing as he turn his gaze to Izuku.

Fuck.

Fuck..

FUCK!!!

“I’m going to sleep,” Katsuki said pushing Eijiro off of him and heading toward his bedroom almost instantly.

As soon as he got in, he slammed the door shut behind him.

What has gotten into him?

Katsuki was still in shock. He couldn't believe what he just said. He couldn't ignore your pained facade. He couldn't disregard your tears.

The happening was replaying over and over in his mind and he couldn't obliterate it making him incline back on his door, slowly gliding down until he was fully seated on the floor.

“Y/n,” he whispered, darkness engulfing him.

...

“We are glad to inform everyone that the establishment is fully developed. Thanks to the heroes who assisted us in the process. A special thanks to...”

The school was finally constructed as you listen to the news.

How many days has it been? 2? 3? Since that happened.

Eijiro keeps on checking up on her through messages but she was overly tired, exhausted, and drained, to even move an inch.

She never received a message from him though. Not a single note.

You were still bewildered about why he reacted that way. You needed explanations of course, but in this condition, it's better to just mull over it. Confronting him would just be ridiculous at this point.

“I don’t know anymore..” Y/n whispered to herself as she embraced her knees. “Why do things happen like this.”

She even ponders how will Katsuki explain things to Kazui. She just stops coming over. Who was taking care of him? Was it his mom? His friends?

Suddenly, her phone rang for the nth time of the day. Checking the caller ID, it was Eijiro.

The poor guy was extremely worried.

Sighing to yourself, you pick up the call.

“Y/n!! Finally! I was so worried.”

Eijiro’s voice made you smile slightly.

“Look, I don’t know what happened. I tried asking Katsuki but he’s just shoving me away. Not that it's new. But just not in this manner. I don't know what occurred between you two, it's driving me insane just thinking that I couldn’t help you guys. Midoriya and the others are worried as well. They're still hoping I could get at least something out of both of you but I always come out with nothing.”

Y/n was tearing up. Kirishima is a good friend. With all the courage you have, you took a deep breath and speak up.

“I’m sorry we made you worry, Kirishima. Everyone else too. But the incident between Bakugo and I will remain silent, and I wished to not talk about it..” You answered as you wiped a tear away.

“I understand,” Eijiro said sadly. “But if you need someone, you know who to call, okay?”

“Thank you, Kirishima.” You smiled.

“No problem, Miss Y/n. I respect your decision.” Eijiro said.

Y/n ended the call.

…

“Have you heard anything from them?” Mina asked worriedly while on patrol with Eijiro.

“No.” Eijiro simply said. “But Miss Y/n finally answered my call. She said she doesn’t want to talk about it.” He said, shaking his head slightly.

“Oh, I am positive Bakugo started it!” Mina grunt. That was the second time she get to spend time with you and someone had to ruin it.

“Hey, we don’t know that.” Eijiro's sweat dropped. “You can’t just point a finger at him.”

“Oh yeah? So you think it’s Miss Y/n, hmm??” Mina paused walking and crossed her arms over her chest, foot tapping as she waited for Eijiro’s answer.

“Well. I don’t want to judge.”

…

Weeks had gone by and you were now back working at school. It’ll be only an hour before students start arriving as well.

What did Katsuki tell Kazui? You keep thinking about this over and over.

“Miss Y/n, have you finished working on your classroom?”

Your co-teacher jolted you, awakening you from your thoughts.

“O-oh! Yes!” You smiled.

“Perfect! Students will arrive with their parents in a bit. The chairman says since it's back to school, teachers must assure the parents of the safety of the students and discuss the school’s new drill in case there's an attack. Well, hopefully, there's none,” Your co-teacher chuckled nervously at the doorway.

“Yeah. Hopefully. I’ll be ready.” You gave her a reassuring smile. “Plus, I have the new guidelines right here.” You showed her the small notebook you were holding confidently. “I’ll be fine. I made this.”

“I believe in you, Miss Y/n. I’ll see you in a bit!” She waves at you and left.

Of course, you can do this.

An hour had gone by, and students and parents started appearing. Some are walking past your classrooms, and others are greeting you before entering yours.

Y/n was terrified. She was scared that Kazui might bring Katsuki. Well, he’s his parent but still.

Just thinking about this makes her nervous. Why was she nervous anyway? She did nothing wrong.

Alright, you can do this.’ Y/n thought to herself before inhaling and exhaling to calm herself. When her eyes darted around her, she saw the familiar blonde in the crowd. Of course, there would be a crowd around him, he’s a hero.

Just seeing his hair makes you anxious. It made you feel like you want to pass out.

Before you could avert your gaze away from him, he manages to catch your eye causing you to look away quickly.

“Miss Y/n! Miss Y/n!” the oh-so-familiar voice called out.

“Kazui-chan!” Y/n excitedly greeted Kazui who was running towards her and giving her a big hug.

“Miss Y/n. Why aren’t you coming over anymore?” Kazui asked innocently while he stare at Y/n.

She couldn’t answer. She doesn’t know what to say. Kazui’s question made her look up at Katsuki who catches her gaze making him look away.

But this didn’t go unnoticed by Kazui.

Something’s wrong. He can feel it.

“W-well. Now that we’re back here at school, I would get very busy.” Y/n said placing a gentle hand on Kazui’s head and stroking him. “I’m sorry, Kazui-chan.”

Kazui pouted at this. “Maybe you can come over when you’re not busy.”

Y/n’s heart aches as she watches Kazui’s eyes turn unhappy. “We’ll see, Kazui-chan.”

The orientation was brief and smooth. Parents were able to comprehend the new drill the school installed and how they will handle the safety of every student. Questions were thrown at Miss Y/n, but she was able to respond to every one of them.

Katsuki was silent throughout the whole orientation. He was observing you, at the same time, listening. But he’s mainly focused on you. He hated the way you smile at other people. He hated that you were laughing at their jokes before proceeding with their questions. He hated that he missed having you around.

As soon as the father and son got home. Kazui stopped in his tracks on his way to his bedroom whilst Katsuki sat on the sofa turning the television on.

“Papa,” Kazui called out.

Katsuki didn't bathe an eye at him though. He simply hummed as his response.

“Is there something wrong between Miss Y/n and you?”

Kazui’s question made Katsuki freeze on his spot. Kazui may be young, but he knows that his kid is smart. Smart enough to read a situation.

“What made you say that?” Katsuki said, eyes not leaving the television.

“I saw the interaction between you two earlier. Normally you’d be teasing her and she would tease you back, but that didn’t happen. Did you do something?”

Wow. Is his son even a child?

Katsuki just tsked. “You shouldn’t be prying in something like this especially if it's my problem. You’re too young. Just go to bed, brat.”

“I'm just saying. If you did something, go apologize to Miss Y/n... I don't want her to disappear just because you two had a disagreement.”

“Yeah yeah.”

Part 20

[minnesota-fats]

Snow Bat

Ch 1

Danny, a homeless kid living on the street. Bruce, a rich kid obsessed with trying to find his parents' murderers. They both meet one rainy night at age eighteen, and from that night forward their fates are intertwined forever more.

All is as it should be.

Danny remembers the night like it had just happened—but I guess you will witness it first hand. He had situated himself on a street corner, not busy enough to have a constant set of eyes on him—but then again no one really batted an eye at a homeless kid here in Gotham. Though, Danny did not consider himself a kid anymore. Not after all he had been through, though that doesn’t matter right now. Danny was sitting on the concrete walkway, not really paying attention, just sitting in thought on what he should do next. He had gotten this far, but he still needed to figure out what to do next. He had come into town with a bag of clothes and a wallet full of money. Thought that didn't last long when in a shitty part of town, known for muggers and killers.

Danny didn't really put up much of a fight either, he was too tired to really do anything and most importantly he didn't want to use the abilities that he has. Sure, it would have made getting away easier but when did Danny ever do things the easy way? So, in the end he was down one bag of clothes and any identification and money. Though while on the run, you don't really want people to know who you are. The only purpose his ID had was just to serve as a reminder of who he was, now with it gone, Danny can really start anew. He just had to figure out what he was going to do.

Danny didn't really register the rain until he felt it stop pelting his head aggressively. He looked up and was confused to see an expensive looking umbrella positioned over his head. Danny followed the hand holding the umbrella to see a young man who was surrounded by a halo of the street lamp shining directly behind him.danny tilted his head to the side to examine the man, he had stormy gray blue eyes and slicked back black hair that started to lose shape as the rain began to wet it and his suit jacket. Danny could feel his heart skip a beat, something very noticeable when your heartbeat is as slow as his. The man looked down at him and tilted his head to mimic Danny's own head tilt.

The young man’s name is Bruce Wayne, heir to the Wayne family fortune. He had been walking around to clear his head after he had a fierce argument with his father figure Alfred. Bruce had stormed out of the vehicle and began walking away in a random direction. Bruce knew that Alfred wouldn't be too far behind, knowing how protective he was of Bruce. During his walk however Bruce had spotted what looked like a kid no older than eighteen, sure he was the same age, but Bruce hadn’t considered himself a kid for a long time despite what others around him might say. He tightened his grip on the umbrella and without much thought he walked closer to the young man. As Bruce got closer he could see the man had a busted lip and swollen downcast eyes. There were smudges of blood on his dirty hoodie and a steady stream of pink bloody water dripping from his hair. It is clear to Bruce that this young man had just been on the losing side of a fight or at least a beating.

It reminded Bruce of how he used to get into fights in primary school after- Bruce didn't want to think about that right now. Bruce walked toward the man and used his umbrella to shield the man from the rain. When the young man looked up, Bruce couldn't help but admire how bright this man's eyes were—at least the one that wasn’t swollen shut. The young man in front of Bruce had unbelievably blue eyes that almost looked purple as the light shifted when the young man tilted his head to the side in confusion, Bruce mimicked the movement.

Bruce knelt down to be at eye level with the other man, “what happened?” He asked, voice smooth and unassuming.

“Got my shit stolen,” Danny says with a shrug, his voice sounding hoarse from the disused. Danny coughed and cleared his throat, “what does it look like?”

Bruce looked him over, “you seem to have suffered several contusions that range from a not so serious looking busted lip to a concerning head wound that may or may not need stitches.”

Danny tilted his head the opposite direction, “oh,” was all he could think of saying, dumbfounded by the sudden medical analysis.

“If you would like I can take you to the hospital,” Bruce offered, “my car is just around the corner.”

Danny’s eyes widened, “no! No hospital,” he exclaimed. His back straightened up as he tried to lean forward, but the sudden movement made him feel dizzy. “I, umm…. Can't afford it….” He tries, sounding unsure.

Bruce looked harder at the young man in front of him, “money isn't an issue,” Bruce starts. But the tension in the man's form made him reconsider his approach, “But if you want I can treat you at my home,” He offered.

Danny calmed down at what the man said, “No, it's ok. I'll be fine,” he starts as he leans back down against the wall, not taking his eyes away from the man in front of him. “I don't want to impose.”

“Then do you have somewhere I can take you? I’m not leaving you here alone.” Bruce says, stubbornly.

“Really buddy, I’m good, I don’t need-” he tries but Bruce cuts him off.

“I promise you, I won't hurt you,” Bruce tried again, “If you want you can even stay the night, have a warm meal and shower. I just want to help you.”

Danny looked at this man again, really looked at him. Danny could feel that this guy really meant it, he wanted to help danny—no strings attached. Danny let out a groan before leaning forward and shaking his head in annoyance. Danny looked back up into the man's eyes, “fine,” Danny grumbles out, “only for a hot shower. But if you're a serial killer I'm gonna be real pissed off.”

The man smiled and reached out his hand for Danny to take, “don’t worry, my name is Bruce. What’s yours?”

Danny accepted Bruce's hand and groaned as he helped hoist him up, “name’s Danny,” he responds, “I think I might have a broken rib or two,” he admits, swaying a bit as he clutched his side.

“To be expected when mugged in Gotham,” Bruce said darkly. The comment made Danny snort a bit in laughter. Bruce smiled a bit as he pulled Danny closer to him so they could both share the umbrella, Bruce could see the man tensed up a bit before resting into Bruce’s side. It was like that Bruce led the injured man to the edge of the sidewalk just as a sleek black car drove up and parked in front of them. Danny seemed to tense up again at the sight of the car, looking like he was ready to bolt. Bruce made sure to keep his posture passive, hopefully to convey that they were not in any danger.

The front window rolled down to reveal the familiar face of Alfred, “I see you have made a friend, Master Bruce.” He commented as he moved to get out of the car.

“No need to get out Alfred, I got the door.” Bruce says softly and he pulls Danny along and opens the back door. He holds the umbrella up above the door to allow Danny to get in first. As Bruce guides him down to sit Danny groans again as settled in. Bruce smiled at Danny reassuringly before he closed the car door and ran to the other side to get in. Once in the car Bruce looked forward at Alfred who looked through the rear view mirror at his ward, “to home please, Alfred, I promise my friend here a warm meal and shower,” Bruce explained before looking back at Danny, “after I check his wounds,” he says directing that part to danny who just groaned in annoyance before looking out the window.

Alfred smiled softly at the display of fragile trust, proud of his ward’s stubbornness when it comes to others safety.

Hopefully, this will be good for both young men, the old butler thought as he took note of the state the new man was in.

If only he knew how significant this meeting actually was.

Only time will tell.

—

Remaining chapters on ao3:

Link

[fandomwritingbit]

Battered and Bruised pt.2

William Afton x (fem) employee reader

synop: It's your first shift back after the clusterfuck that was last time, but it's not ever going to be smooth sailing.

warnings: bad language, inappropriate relationships, violence, and the joys of customer service.

link to pt.1 - here.

Henry pulled some strings for you, moved your rota around so that you had a few days off post the ‘incident’, which you are thankful for. You kept yourself in your flat, only leaving to do a food shop which was bad enough with all the looks you received. The bruising on your face seemed to be taking it's time in clearing up and your arm was no where near fixed, though at least you can hide that.

It's an odd feeling to be off work knowing the trouble you caused, but still, when you’re putting your work uniform on an odd sense of relief washes over you. Finally, some normality and some delicious social interaction, both of which you’re in dire need of. 

...

The walk to work was nicely familiar and by the time you’re breezing through the back door to the club you’re whistling under your breath. You make it to the staff area, after having said hello to nearly everyone on shift, and chuck your bag in your locker, turning the lock and sliding the key into your pocket. Then you head for the offices to find your manager and your role for the night. A large part of you is hoping it's William you’ll catch first though you don’t really know why. Maybe you want to apologise, maybe you just want to see if he looks more banged up than you. It isn’t though, rather it’s Henry that you meet the moment you enter the corridor. 

“Hiya, Henry.” You greet him chipper enough, but that same part of you is a little disappointed. 

He smiles at you and runs his eyes over your form in the sleazy way he normally does. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re looking much better since the last time I saw you. You feeling better?” He’s standing next to you in a heartbeat, a little too close to be appropriate and it pulls your lips into a small smile. 

You narrow your brows at the question, you weren’t exactly off sick, you just had some scrapes, so you’re pretty much feeling exactly the fucking same. Despite that thought, you keep your words pleasant, “Yeah, thanks. Glad to be back if I’m honest.” 

Your boss looks more than a bit surprised by that, no one is ever glad to be here. “Good good.” He says, like you keeping his true thoughts to himself. “Now, I was hoping to try you on the door tonight… but if you’re not up for it that’s okay.” 

Your eyes go wide with hesitation but sensing that you don’t really have a choice you go for, “No, I’m happy to give it a go.”

… 

Now, when you said that you did assume that you’d have a buddy with you. Preferably one of the big scary guys, but no. No, you’re standing at the entrance to the club on your lonesome, with a tin of pepper spray on your hip and a metal detecting wand in your hands. To Henry’s credit, he did give you some instructions before pissing off, something along the lines of ‘Scan them, if they have anything that can hurt someone; bag it and tag it. ID people who look under 25. If they give you lip, send them away.” It sounds alright, it’s relatively inside your skill set but like all customer service roles it’s never going to be as simple as it sounds. 

To be fair, most people were decent, happy enough to let you scan them, telling you that the beeping is their belt or a risque piercing, whichever applies. You had some kiddos mouthing off when you ask for ID, half the group is just 18 and one of them has the shoddiest fake ID you’ve ever seen, so you send the lot of them packing. Apart from that, the shift was going well… until it wasn’t.

It wasn’t overly busy after midnight, it tends to be a quiet spell until 1 or 2am when people flock from other establishments, so you’re enjoying the break. The only thing you’d change was having your cigarettes in your pocket rather than languishing in your locker. It’s as you’re thinking about how nice a smoke would be right now that a couple walks over to you. Mid twenties you’d guess; a lady looking brilliant in a figure-hugging white dress and a bloke wearing an armani shirt you’ve seen at least four times tonight already. Something about the swagger of that man told you he was going to be a twat long before he stood in front of you. 

“Hi, you alright?” You greet the two, pleasant but firm as you’ve learnt tends to work best here. 

The lad nods in acknowledgement and the woman smiles, there’s a restlessness in her stance that shows how eager she is to get inside and have a good time. 

“Right, if it’s okay, I’m going to give yous a quick scan. Just for security, you know.” You explain whilst gesturing with the wand, the words are becoming very natural off your tongue after saying them for the umpteenth time. “If you’ve got anything metal in your pockets you can pop it on the side.” Spiel over, you gesture to the metallic slab beside you and the woman puts her handbag on there, the man sighs before overdramatically reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet, phone and rather disturbingly, a swiss army knife, all placed noisily on the surface. 

You frown automatically, here we go. Not commencing with the scan, you address the gentleman, “Right. Unfortunately, I can’t let you go in with the uh knife. But I’m happy to put it in a bag for you and take your name so you can grab it on the way out?” 

You expected this guy to complain, maybe make a bit of a fuss but eventually agree or simply piss off out your sight. Instead the man scoffed before bluntly saying, “It’s not a knife.” 

It’s this moment William chooses to step outside for a fag, well, that’s what he told Henry. Truth be told he nearly hit the ceiling when he was told you’re on door duty, on your own, with no fucking training. So he was popping out for a look, to see how you’re getting on. What he wanted to see was this couple going inside after a moment’s chat, instead he seems to be witnessing some kind of standoff. 

Visibally buffering, you try to understand what the fuck that’s supposed to mean, ‘It’s not a knife’, you blink uncertainly before taking it upon yourself to explain again. You point at the weapon, “You can’t take the knife inside.” 

Rolling his eyes, the man snatches the object from the surface, flicking it open with angry theatrics. It’s enough for William to come over, face instantly stern. “It’s not a fucking knife. It’s a comb and nail file for fuck’s sake.” The man says, the complaint spat at you and you stare dumbfounded. Yes, there is a comb and file on it. But this prick neglects to mention the fuck-off blade glinting in the low light. You glance at your boss ,then at the woman, as if to say, ‘are yous hearing this?’ The latter looks increasingly mortified and your boss looks irritated.  

“Listen, mate.” You try to be cordial but a disbelieving chuckle escapes you, “I’m not worried you’re going to go in there and open a fucking beauticians, okay? That is a weapon and they are prohibited from this club.” How many times does this guy need to hear the same thing, you internally question, hoping that the tall imposing presence of your boss would let the words sink in his thick skull. 

The bloke flicks his eyes to the new presence, the grave expression on William’s face is seemingly enough to make him resign. He shoves the knife in his pocket again, before grabbing the rest of his belongings on the surface. Muttering under his breath the whole time, “Fucking ridiculous. Stupid fucking-” He gives you a venemous look, forcing you to hold back the amusement that was tugging at your lips, before turning to his date, “Don’t just stand there, come on then, we’ll go somewhere else.” 

The woman frowns at being snapped at, and that’s enough for you to want to ruin this bastard’s night completely. So you put your attention on the lady, “You don’t have to go, love.” You grin at the way the man freezes in your peripheral vision, doubling down on your plan. “There's a good crowd in there, good music tonight… In fact, to make up for all this trouble, why don’t you go in there and tell Carlo on the bar that I sent you, get your first drink on me.” 

At the word ‘trouble’ you nod towards her date and it makes the lady smile. She takes a moment to think about it, before glancing at the man and simply saying, “Sorry, Jay. I can’t refuse that.” You step back and grab the door for the lady to go inside, she thanks you under her breath and you hope you’ve saved her a night of pain. 

You flash the guy a somewhat mean smirk, and send him on his way with, “Have a good night, mate.” He lingers for a second taut with indignation before walking away in a huff. 

When he’s a great distance away you turn to William with raised eyebrows. “As if it took you here for him to get the message, ridiculous.” 

Your boss sniggers, finally getting about lighting the cigarette he came out here for. He can’t stop himself from smirking a fair bit, there’s something about you that is inherently funny, a true lack of giving a shit that drips off all your actions. Still snickering he says, “You make a habit of stealing people’s girls?”

That has you smiling, “Only when they’re complete arseholes. I’d take her home to prove the point.” You look at him nonchalantly, a glint in your eye suggesting that you're only half joking. 

Though he’s amused, something about the casual delivery of that makes arousal lay her hot hands on him. It’s inappropriate and he lightly chides himself for it, but the internal disapproval is outweighed by wondering why the image of you and that lass together has almost instantly given him a semi. He’s not complaining, but it’s odd.

The silence is short but unable to sit in it you pipe up. “Are you out here checking I haven't started another fight, then?” You watch the man to see if any trace of that handsome smirk remains, but his face is unreadable as he takes a drag of his cigarette. The exhaled smoke in front of you has your fingers tapping against your side, that stalemate must’ve stressed you out more than you initially thought. 

“Pretty much.” He says stoically, the dryness of the words making your grin freeze awkwardly on your face. He must register that because he continues, the words more mumbled than before, “Henry having you out here on your own makes a certain word spring to mind, one of my least favourite fucking words.” 

Okay, you’ll bite. “And what’s that?” 

William can’t help the crooked smile that spreads, unwanted, across his face. “Negligence.” 

You're glad of your blameless status in that, but can’t resist standing up for yourself and your other boss. Or more likely, you can’t resist poking a little more. “Maybe he just thinks I’m capable.” 

Smoke leaves him as he snickers, “Capable or not doesn’t matter. Daft fuck has no idea what it’s like to stand out here talking to angry pissheads all night.”

You smile, fingers still rhythmic and frequent against your thigh. That confirms one of your suspicions, your employers are like chalk and cheese and one of them definitely only seems to be concerned with the lighthearted side of running a club. The other seems to be a bit too wrapped up in the heavy side of it though. The two owners’ dynamic is all the talk of the lowly employees like you and you must admit, it’s entertaining as hell. 

A silence comes over the two of you and you struggle to think of anything to say to fill it over your growing need for a smoke, stoked beyond belief by the man beside you. He notices your agitation and the restless movement of your hands, his attention fully on your body language, searching for any inclination as to why you’re on edge. 

Feeling his gaze, you’re pushed to explain yourself, “I wasn’t going to ask but uh- is there any chance I can borrow a cig?” All blasé-ness is dropped and you ask honestly. 

William raises his eyebrows at you and for a brief moment you feel stupid for even having the nerve to ask. How unprofessional. But he puts you at rest. “Yeah, alright.” He reaches for his pocket where a box of fags must be stowed away, and you smile, remembering the old adage of don’t ask don’t get, you’ve been quoted at since you were a kid. 

The box is crumpled with use, the fold dog-eared, clearly always in and out the man’s pocket, your own look very similar. He hands you the cigarette through a pinched finger and thumb and you’re more than glad to take it. 

“Thanks, William. Really thanks.” You flash a self-deprecating smile, quickly putting the instrument between your lips, leaving your hand open for the lighter you assume he’s going to pass you. Instead, your boss brings the lighter to you, opting to light it for you. It forces you to step a little closer to him to meet him halfway, it’s a bit personal and it pushes your mind back to the last time you were in his space, the lack of pain on his face when you cleaned up his injuries making your core tense. 

He catches a flame on the first flick of the rollerball, something you can never bloody do, and you thank him again as the end flickers into life. They’re cheap cigs but it’s exactly what you need. William watches you draw on the cigarette, you make it look good, too good really; god there’s something wrong with him tonight.   

So to distract himself he asks, “How’s your arm?”

“Same as my face.” You grin, “Fading but still there.” Your delivery is riddled with self-consciousness,  but at least you’re still smiling, that’s all you can do after all.

The cigarette sits between your lips as you roll your sleeve up to show your boss the damage. Not nearly as bad as it was the day of, but the wicked scratches still make him frown, what a wanker that guy was, he hopes the man is still bed-bound. That’s the thing about fighting, even if you’re relatively okay, the evidence of it is written on your skin and the shame is often enough to keep you away from others. William is still wearing the proof of his role now, but at least he doesn’t have to explain it to his ex-wife anymore.

“It looks much better.” Your boss pulls his gaze off your arm to see that mischievous look on your face. 

“Yeah.” You pause for a second, weighing up if you’re really about to say the thought banging around in your head, you shouldn’t but yeah, yeah you’re going to. You gesture to the injuries on his face, the dulling bruises and the scabbed over split brow fighting for dominance, “You’re looking better too… maybe don’t hang around here though, you’ll be scaring people away.” 

Your risk pays off because his facade cracks, “Charming.” A small smile finds its way on his face and he shakes his head, he must be going soft because if anyone else had said that to him he certainly wouldn’t be smiling. 

Unable to resist explaining yourself, you continue, “I’m only kidding, you know you wear it well.” You probably shouldn’t have said that, you’re all but saying that you think he’s fit, and true or not it’s not really a good thing to say to your boss. This is proved by him catching your gaze, a stern look back on his face which makes your body go rigid, yep you should not have said that. 

A heavy beat of silence washes over the two of you, his poker face is too good, you’ve no idea if you’ve pissed him off or not so you just bite your tongue. 

Which was probably for the best, if you’d continued down that line, he has no idea what he’d have done.

William eventually puts an end to the awkwardness, flicking his dog-end down on the floor, snuffing it out with his shoe. "I'm going to get someone out here with you, hopefully it'll keep the knobheads in check."

You give him a wry smile, "Yeah, that's probably for the best."

He nods in response, already moving past you to go through the main entrance, a sudden urge seizes hold of you and you stick your hand out to catch the crook of his arm. Your boss's head flicks around quick, judgement heavy in the way he's looking at you.

"Here." You take a moment to really think about your phrasing here, you want to reflect how genuine you really are. "I just want to make sure that you know I'm grateful for you stepping in the other night."

His brows raise briefly, "I know. You said thank you. A lot." His words are so dry you have no idea if he's happy or angry about what happens. You just can't get an accurate reading.

You laugh uncertainly, muttering, "Yeah but you haven't said if I'm welcome to it or not."

He hears, and before slipping inside tilts his head down a little. "I haven't decided if you are yet."

[definitely-not-indecisive]

A Peter Parker in Gotham fic but from the perspective of a Tony Stark who came back to life after the events of No Way Home and sets out on a quest to find his missing child

(Sorry @theneonghosts that it has taken me so long to respond to this ask) I hope you like my response, though I'm not sure if that's what you were looking for. I've never really written anything like this before for a Tumblr post.

Tony gasped awake, his heartbeat racing as he returned to consciousness. He was lying prone on hard concrete slab in what appeared to be a morgue. His right arm ached, muscle pain like he hadn't experienced in years. Looking down at it, he could see it had old, healed over, burn scars covering it. Tracing them, he could feel them go all the way up his neck, just touching the underside of his jaw.

He stumbled to his feet, off the the slab and onto the cold floor. His feet were bear, and protested being pressed against the frigid tiles. Looking around, he saw some clean scrubs on a shelf, and quickly dressed. He had to figure out where he was, and how he'd got there.

The last thing he remembered was Pepper and Peter talking to him after he used the Infinity Stones to destroy Thanos and his army. And then... nothing. The next thing he knew, he was waking up here.

He walked over to the computer in the corner of the room, used for medical files and such, and easy cracked into it. The date... It had been a year since that last battle. Had he been in a coma? Had he just died, only to wake up in a morgue? Searching more, he found that no, he had died that day. There had been a funeral and everything, where he was buried. He had a gravestone. So how had he woken up here if he was supposed to be six feet under?

Tony quickly searched for Pepper and Morgan, the former who had taken up the post of CEO of Stark Industries. However, there was no mention of Peter.

None.

His frown deepened, and he began searching for Peter more in depth.

Apparently, Spider-Man had disappeared from New York a month ago, and the city had been left without their friendly neighbourhood superhero. Peter's friends were at MIT, but Peter... Peter was not. There was no history of an application, not history period. May Parker was dead, with no mention of a nephew, no other family.

There were no school records for Peter Parker at Midtown School of Technology. No records of him anywhere.

What the actual fuck was going on here?

There was actually an internal phone attached to the wall, usually only used to contact other departments within a hospital. But, it should still be able to make outside calls.

He dialled Peter's phone number.

"I'm sorry, the phone number you are calling has been disconnected-"

Tony's chest felt tight. He redialled.

"I'm sorry, the phone number you are calling has been disconnected-"

He swallowed harshly. He had to get to the bottom of this. He called Pepper's phone.

"Hello? This is Virginia Stark."

"Pepper. No, please, don't hang up. This isn't a prank, I swear. I don't know where I am. Other than in a fucking morgue. Last thing I remember was you and Peter saying good bye to me after I used the Infinity Stones. Uh, you're allergic to strawberries. I love you 3000. I don't know how to prove it any other wa-"

"Shut up. Just shut up Tony. I get it. You're you. Stranger and more fucked up things have happened. We'll get explanations later. Caller ID says you're calling from the Rockefeller Institute Hospital. And who the hell is Peter?"

Something was very, very wrong here.

[ivyjupiterwrites]

(Based on this clip I saw of Michael Ealy and Regina Hall)

Now I imagine something like this with Ghost, the significance I feel like it would have. The things it would indicate

You’re sitting with Ghost, maybe during a mission, perhaps after and your leg happens to overlap with his. You had just been going to cross your legs, but you hadn't realized just how close the two of you were seated. Your calf brushing up against his knee, it was like a jerk of a response of your behalf, snapping back to life at the sensation.

It was common knowledge he didn't particularly like to be touched. Hence covering himself from nearly head to toe. It was something you could respect--hell envied if anything--you hated being perceived as well. At least that's what you assumed was going on under all that.

As you go to rest your foot back down, the chatter around you doing nothing for the deafening throbbing of your heartbeat--you had quite literally just poked a grizzly bear--a certain black gloved, skeletal fingered hand reached out to tenderly grab your ankle.

The grip, much to your shock, does not match the man whatsoever, very kind and gentle. As though if he clenched any harder he very well may crush you. Which you highly doubted, but it felt damned nice to be treated like so.

As he pulled your leg back to rest comfortably-- more overlapping his own--the incessant thudding in your chest practically stopped. Altogether. You were dumbfounded, yet not as much as those across from you; who continued the conversation casually as to not draw attention to what was happening.

He himself didn't say anything, nor break conversing either, not so much as a flick from his chocolate brown eyes. So, you chose to 'ignore it' as well, continuing on listening to their stories and chatter.

It would only be later when something would finally be said about it, and I feel like it would be a flirty kind of something. Like he would use that opportunity from there on out to begin hitting you with little zingers every once and a while.

To do little things that may not seem entirely out of place upon first look; but when it's taken into consideration Ghost is the one doing it--it's pretty damned special.

[spotsandsocks]

Fuck it Friday

Tagged by the adorable and wonderful @panbuckley @hippolotamus @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess sharing a fic that I loved writing and sharing. Posting now cos I’m off the deepest darkest wales today so who knows what kind of Internet access I’ll find this week.

Tagging to share if they want to @ronordmann who made the wonderful cover @shortsighted-owl @prince-buck-diaz @heartshapedvows @heartbeatdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @fiona-fififi @alyxmastershipper @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @spaceprincessem @wikiangela @the-likesofus @like-the-rest-of-la @princessfbi @cowboy-buddie @buddierights @housewifebuck @stagefoureddiediaz @elvensorceress @bekkachaos @thekristen999 @megsvstheworld @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy - and vos it fic I’ve tagged some new people too hope you don’t mind… anyone else tag me in I love to see what you’re up to - don’t be shy 💕

Who You Gonna Call?

Call 1: Silence fills the room as soon as Eddie hangs up the phone. He’d known something was wrong the second he’d seen his Dad’s caller ID pop up at 2pm on a Wednesday afternoon. It had been a quick call, just long enough to update him on the situation, his Dad had been keen to get back to Abuela, Eddie doesn’t blame him, he wishes he could be there too. He hates that she’s moved away even though he knows it made sense. He just misses her so much, worries about her too, even more now. 

His phone is still in his hand so he doesn’t really think much about what he’s doing, just makes the call. It’s picked up in under three rings and Eddie breathes out a heavy greeting.

‘Hey. It’s me.” Although Buck knows that, caller ID and all.

He gets a “Hey,” right back and then after a brief pause Buck asks the question Eddie  knew he would.

“You ok?” There’s quite concern in his friend’s voice, he already knows something’s wrong. Eddie guesses there must have been something in his voice to give it away, even if he has only said three words. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, Buck’s good like that. He knows people, he sees things people don’t expect him to and he cares. Eddie knows he’s lucky to be one of the people Buck cares about.

“Not really,” Eddie sniffs and he can just imagine Buck stopping whatever he was doing and frowning in worry. It’s an expression he’s quite familiar with but he hasn’t seen too much of lately, not now things are getting a little better for him.

“My Dad called, it’s my Abuela.” He takes a deep slightly shuddering breath, “she’s in the hospital, they’re doing tests and things but no one's sure what’s wrong, Dad tried to play it down but I could tell he was worried.”

“And now you’re thinking about plane tickets right?” The understanding is instant, Eddie nods and confirms Bucks guess.

“Yeah, I can’t go, I know that and I’m glad he told me but..”

“You’re too far away and you feel useless.”

Again he nods, a small huff of air escapes too, Buck knows him well.

“I’m gonna call her later, Dad said she’s sleeping.” 

“She’ll like that, give her my love.” A heartbeat later Buck  says “You want me to come over?” 

He does but what he says is “No it’s ok, you’re busy. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Buck’s voice is soft, “Anytime Eds. I’m always here, you know that.”

They hang up not long afterwards, Eddie feeling slightly better having spoken to someone. No, having spoken to Buck, who’s right, he is always there for him. Every time. Eddie’s still not sure what he’s done to deserve it but he’s glad, so very glad he has Buck in his life.

Call 2

Caller ID tells him it’s Buck’s calling and he doesn’t even wait for Eddie to say hi, just jumps in with,

“Eddie! You have to help! Maddie’s going to kill me.”

“What have you done now?” Eddie knows that tone, he waits to hear what minor crisis Buck finds himself in today.

“I’ve lost Jee’s favourite teddy. Maddie just called and Jee’s distraught.”

Eddie thinks Buck’s worked himself up into a similar state by the sound of him.

“Ok, calm down.” 

“I am calm.”

“You’re really not, ok, take a sec and...”

“I’ve looked everywhere, Jee will never forgive me, Maddie won’t either.”

“Buck you were here this morning, let me check, maybe it fell out somewhere.”

“Please find it Eddie, I’m a terrible Uncle.”

Eddie rolls his eyes as he pulls cushions around and looks under and behind couches and chairs.

“You’re a fantastic Uncle. Jee loves you. Maddie loves you too. A lost teddy isn’t going to change that .”

“I don’t know Eds. She really loves that bear.”

His hand closes around something fluffy under one of his chairs, he pulls it out and recognises the bear Jee had had earlier.

“Well it’s a good job I’ve found it then.”

“You have!? Oh thank god!” he can just imagine Buck's face, the way he’s throwing his head back, exposing his neck, mouth open as he sighs in relief. He gets lost in the image for a moment then shakes himself free.

“I’ll run it over to Maddie for you, I’m closer.”

“Thank you, thank you, you're the best man, I mean it.”

He laughs, he’s glad he could help wipe Buck’s distress away, a quick trip to Maddie and Chim’s is the very least he can do for Buck. 

Eddie knows he’d do almost anything for his friend, but all he says is “No problem, just glad I can help reunite a girl with her bear.” before he hangs up, bear in hand ready to save Buck’s neck from his niece’s tears and sister’s wrath

Read on AO3

[peachyiie-0]

Yours to rest on // Obanai x hashira reader

TW: nothing just fluff

Requested by: @toriwallace 💕

DWW TO THE OTHER REQUESTS I SAID ID DO, IM STILL DOING THEM!! Also sorry it took me so long to post this I have been busy 😭 but I hope you’ll enjoy this!!

Why is Obanai always guarded? That’s the question that always remains in your mind. He always has his guard up, not once did you ever see him relaxed. He’s always so serious, it makes you wonder what he looks like when he wasn’t serious when he wasn't fighting for his life.

Even as a hashira yourself, you knew it was crucial to be serious about your job, but Obanai never let his guard down. It was unusual to not take breaks, so you worried for him. Even though you never really said anything, you still cared.

Today was the day of everyone’s break from work, the only day you truly get to rest. You were taking a stroll, the wind was stronger than usual. Your hair flew as you had tried your best to keep it calm, suddenly at the corner of your eye you see Obanai. He rested in a tree, his hair flew over his closed eyes. A small smile rested on your lips, he looked more peaceful than ever as the shade of the leaves rested over him. Suddenly you found yourself walking over.

You slowly began climbing the tree, you reached the branch he was resting on in seconds. “What do you want?” One of his eyes peaked open causing you to flush a slight red. “Oh I, I was just trying to get some shade..” you muttered pulling yourself up on the branch.

“Well go get it somewhere else, I’m using this spot already.” He said, closing his eyes once more, causing you to pause. “But there’s plenty of space here for the both of us!” You were persistent, which only made him annoyed even more. “Why do you even wanna be near me? Sure we’re coworkers but I don’t know you on a personal level.” Your lips bloomed into a smile.

“Isn’t that why I should stay even more? It gives us a chance to become amazing friends!!” He bit down a smile as his face slowly flushed. He turned his head away. “Whatever, do what you want I couldn’t care less.”

His eyes shut once more, making you pause for a moment. “Obanai..” you muttered again, as he let out a sigh. “Yea?” You paused, playing with the buttons of your uniform. “Can I maybe lay on your chest?” He shot up, his face flashing red. “H-huh?!” You bit down on your lip. “Well, I’m worried I might fall.” Silence fell in the air for a moment as he lay back down again. “Y-yea, I don’t care.”

You smiled as you rested your head on his chest. You closed your eyes and listened to his heartbeat. The air brushed against your face as you buried your face deeper into him. His heartbeat sped up faster causing you to smile. “Hey Obanai, you should rest more. It’s important.” He sighed. “You're right, I’ll start doing it more often.” You smiled, “Then, can we do this more often too?” His lips let loose a smile as he brushed his hand against yours. “Yes, I’d like that.” You nodded as you two continued to rest.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!! IT WAS SUPER CUTE TO WRITE😭 anyway, I hope you guys have a good day/night and make sure to stay safe!!💕

[fullerthanskippy]

For those who prefer to read on tumblr over AO3, here is the newest chapter I posted today! I'll be posting in both places to get maximum eyes on the work. Now do enjoy, because I made myself horny on the LORD'S DAY to write this, as Skippy would have wanted!

(tagging those who showed love on the original post! @itsalinh, @fanfic-keeps-me-sane, @alexgraphyy, @arrpegio, @hawklovesskippy)

Here are some important visuals for you lovely readers: Picture 1950s Hawk and Tim for the 2012 flashbacks, okay? That innocent little dorky Skippy smile melts my fucking heart. And I personally find Hawk to be very daddy in the 50s (before he was actually even a daddy). I'm thinking up titles, and I have a playlist of songs going that will inspire certain chapters of the book, so chapter titles will be coming soon as well with lyrics of songs that inspired each installment. Gird your loins, we're jumping right into some light to medium smut. ***

The loud music thumped in Tim’s ears as he pushed through the crowded bar. It was the first weekend of his graduate program at Georgetown and he, against his better judgment, agreed to meet up with some classmates he met at orientation. He never went out much in undergrad, mostly opting to stay in his dorm room and study or catch up on his shows while his other peers stumbled through the streets of the small college town.

Now that he had one degree under his belt, he felt like it was time to be a damn adult and see what the bar scene was like in his new city. Besides, at least he was now 21 and didn’t get that pins-and-needles feeling across his skin when he handed a bouncer his ID. Even if his fake that he’d acquired through his freshman roommate did look enough like him and he had memorized the address and date of birth of the man on the card, it still made him extremely squirrely and anxious and usually resulted in ducking out of the line and telling his friends he forgot he had work he needed to catch up on.

The bar was dark and filled with bodies, Tim’s brow already beginning to sweat as the music pulsated with his heartbeat. He finally shoved his way up to the bar and shouted for the bartender to bring him the same beer the guy before him had just ordered. He set down enough cash to cover the single beer as well as a tip, and turned his back toward the bar.

Tim leaned back against the counter, elbows propped up behind him on either side. He perused the crowd for anyone he recognized from orientation this past week. His gaze failed to fall upon any familiar faces, but he did catch the eye of another man across the bar. His heart leapt into his throat and he took a sip of the amber colored ale to try to push it down.

The man was older than him by at least ten years. This was not a concern for Tim, as most of his past lovers were well above his own demographic. The man was sipping his cocktail through the skinny black straw bobbing over the top of the drink. His blue eyes were locked on Tim, and Tim could feel his cheeks getting hot.

He subtly tried to look to his right and left to make sure that the man’s eyes were, in fact, trained on him. The man removed his lips from his drink and one corner of his mouth drew upward, indicating that Tim’s attempt at being covert had definitely failed. Tim let out a breathy chuckle to himself and threw the man a wink. Taking this as an invitation, the man began to walk towards him.

Tim pushed his back off the bar and began walking to meet the man on the dance floor. Though he did not go out much to the college bars with his friends over the past four years, he had plenty of experience meeting men in bars around his hometown. He knew the game and he had to admit, he played it well.

The man’s eyes never broke contact as they squeezed through a sea of bodies to get to one another. Once they reached each other in the mass of drunken college students, the man leaned down into Tim's ear, and just loudly enough over the music, said, “Your lips look so pretty wrapped around that beer bottle.”

Tim’s breath caught in his throat at the man’s forwardness. He’d encountered many a pickup line, but none that sent the blood rushing from his head and into his pants quite like that one. The man towered over him by at least 5 inches, to where Tim had to crane his neck up to meet the man’s gaze. Using his thumb and forefinger, Tim adjusted his thick framed glasses and on tiptoe, he placed his mouth right next to the man’s ear. His voice came out deeper than he expected, and thank God, because inside he felt his heart squealing like a little girl.

“So you think I’m pretty?”

With his one free hand, the man grabbed Tim’s waist and pulled him close. Tim was pleased with his choice of words, as he could now feel the man’s hard-on pressed against his leg. It took every ounce of self control Tim had not to rip this man’s clothes off in front of all these people. The man read Tim’s mind, or perhaps recognized the animalistic look in Tim’s eyes, as he grabbed Tim’s hand and began leading him off of the dance floor.

Once they reached the edge of the crowd, the man wasted no time before setting both of their drinks down on an empty table and pushing Tim against the nearest surface, which was the wall next to the men’s bathroom. Tim’s back was against the wall with the man’s massive hand cradling the back of his neck. The man used his other hand to place it under Tim’s stubble and tilt his chin up until their lips were millimeters apart, both men breathing heavily.

“Do you do this often?” Tim asked breathily. “Cruise for younger men at the college bars?”

“Ouch,” the man had a pained expression, though the sultry smirk never left his lips. “How old do you think I am?”

Tim gently nipped at the man’s neck, trailing light kisses upward until he reached the man’s ear. “Old enough to know better than to start something unless you want to finish it.”

The man pressed his hips against Tim’s, closing the space between the two of them and kissing Tim so deeply that he nearly choked on his breath. “How about this,” the man said as he pulled away from Tim’s desperate lips. “I’m gonna go close my tab, and when I get back here, if you’re still here, I’d like for you to come home with me.”

Tim rocked his hips against the man one more time before pulling away, “I’ll go get us a cab.” The man practically growled in Tim’s ear, placed a sloppy kiss just below Tim’s earlobe, and turned his attention back toward the crowded room. Tim watched as the man’s broad, muscular shoulders and back towered over the tiny women he had to push through to get back to the bar. He felt a surge of pride as he watched these college girls ogle at the man he was about to go home with. If only they knew, he thought, that the man’s stature clearly translated to other things of impressive size, if the feeling against Tim’s thigh had been any indication.

Tim finally tore his gaze from the man as he turned and exited the back door of the bar. As he stepped out into the hot August night, his ears still ringing from the loud music, he looked down the street and held up a hand to hail a taxi. A handful of other people were on the curb trying to do the same, a group of raucous frat boys jumping in the first cab that pulled up. Just as well, Tim thought. His suitor had not met him out back yet anyway.

Just then, the back door of the bar opened and his conquest emerged into the dark night. It did not require many strides of his long legs before he was back in front of Tim, grabbing his face and driving their lips together. The man’s lips were hot on Tim’s as he closed the space between their bodies once again. Tim felt something twitch in his pants at the thought of onlookers in this dark alley behind the bar, watching the two men, all hands and lips and teeth.

The man leaned down to kiss and bite at Tim’s neck, just above the collar of his shirt. While the man was sucking and licking at a spot of his skin, Tim took in the surroundings. He was sure the man was going to leave a mark, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying a bit of voyeurism. Groups of girls whispering as they passed the men, missing available taxis that passed by because they were too busy in their moment of passion.

Then, Tim saw a man leaning up against the back door of the bar, having a smoke just under the bright security light that lit up the back alley. With two fingers, the stranger removed the cigarette from between his lips as he kept his eyes locked on Tim, his expression unreadable. Tim threw his head back as his own stranger placed his hand on his ass, clawing desperately at the smaller man. The man with the cigarette ashed it on the brick wall of the bar, ran a hand through his hair, and folded his arms. He wasn’t even pretending not to watch. He was enjoying the show that Tim was putting on for him.

Tim created a fantasy in his head of the stranger joining himself and his suitor in the back of the cab, the three of them fervently swapping sloppy kisses on the way to the original man’s home. Though he already had one man locked in for the night, the man who was whispering absolute filth in Tim’s ear about all the things he wanted to do to him, Tim couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have the two men worshiping his body at once. The dimly lit stranger shifted on his feet, appearing to become uncomfortable at the tightness in his own pants.

The fantasy world Tim had created was fractured when his suitor pulled away and finally flagged down a taxi. He opened the car door for Tim like a gentleman and slapped Tim’s ass as he climbed into the back seat. The man told the driver the address of their final location for the night. As the cab began pulling away from the bar, Tim watched as the stranger stomped out his cigarette, turned on his heels, and disappeared into the dark of the night.

[daiseukiis]

╰ ⋆ 𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ଓ.° ╮

𓄹 ⌗ 021. ⠀⠀⠀⠀did kaiser just kiss you

CONTENT. suggestive, profanity, online bullying and threats of kys

020 | MASTERLIST | 022

monday, 2:36 pm

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “there you are.” a specific journalist frantically pulls mae to the side, her just finishing her biology class. she cocks a brow up at his behaviour, seeing how panicked he is as they quickly walk to the side to more empty hallway. “akaashi?”

“we have a problem.” akaashi keiji takes his phone out, handing it to mae to read all the tweets. she wasn't too sure what was going on, since after the time she got posted on loki's twitter she had her notifications to following only.

“w-what’s this?” her heart drops at the comments and all the mentions directed at her. this was the first that she was under fire for something, especially when it was something over a blurry photo that can be viewed in so many ways that could ruin her. this was mae's first ever scandal, and the fact that so many people hidden behind a screen had such bold words to say to her made her blank out.

mae was so engrossed in all the comments that she couldn't even feel the vibration of her phone going off; kaiser's caller id showing up on her screen as all eyes were stuck on akaashi's. the boy frantically looks around for her, praying she pick up so he could go to her and clear whatever the hell it was that ness sent to him.

mae's eyes see the colour of dark plum at the corner of her eyes, looking up to see the sumire herself with a stoic look to her face. the fear that came over mae was an understatement, her stomach went into twists at the sight of her.

“this is a misun—” mae's words are silence by the contact of sumire's hand going on to her skin. the scene which causes many of them to go into a frenzy, their bodies moving before any of their minds could process the action she just did.

“i invite you into my house, and this is how you repay me?” the look of pain is on her face as shock paints mae's, she was so numb to the feeling that she didn't even know how to react.

kaiser who saw the scene unravel runs towards mae, putting the phone in his pocket as he brings the girl in his arms in one fluid motion. “sumire!” the glare he bares at the swimmer is sharp, one that makes her snap and want to slap him next.

“back off!” in sync both itoshi rin and mikage reo are pulling the girl by her arms to make sure she doesn't do anything else to them.

“are you alright?” his words are soft, different to how she had talked to him the first few times. the footballer could feel her heartbeat, one that pounds against her chest for him to resonate long with. mae is at a lost of words as she stares at him with widen eyes, “kaiser…”

“what the hell was that for?” his eyes narrow at the girl in front of him, one she reciprocates with the same look. sumire scoffs after getting rin and reo to get off her. “i know you’ve seen it.”

“you didn’t have to hit her!” reo yells as he grabs hold of sumire’s forearm, getting her to step away from kaiser and akaashi who were blocking her from mae. the swimmer gives reo a glare, telling him to leave her alone before heaving a sigh. they were right ; she had to calm down because sumire was being unreasonable.

“what were you doing with sosuke?” she takes a breath, holding on to reo's to hold herself back from doing anymore damage than needed. the atmosphere is thick between all of them, especially the tension between kaiser and sumire.

mae taps kaiser's forearm, signalling that she was feeling better. though the look of protest was in kaiser's face, he did what she wanted. he removes her from his embrace as she nods at akaashi, mae makes her way to stand in front of sumire, “kaiser spilled his drink on me after yamazaki bumped into him and he just gave me something to change into.”

“i was there in the room with them," aiyumi's voice is suddenly heard at the end of the hallway, breathing in a haste ; likely running to find the two though was too late. "sosuke left and didn’t do anything.”

“the camera flash.” mae suddenly remembers that critical detail, knowing that when yamazaki had gave her a hug since mae had almost broke down during their encounter. everyone perks up at the newfound fact, causing aiyumi to nod at it. “you’re right. we heard a camera shutter and there was a flash during that time, but we just thought it was from the party.”

“so someone purposely did it to start rumours…?” sumire is at a lost of words hearing about it, but kaiser couldn't help but ponder on one question, “who the hell would do that?”

“how are you feeling?” kaiser asks as the two of them sit out in an empty study room. akaashi had stayed for a few minutes earlier but had to head to class and left the two of them alone after mae had calmed down.

“like shit.” mae groans. her hand is placed under her chin as her elbow prompts on to the table. though a smirk plays on her lips, eyes glancing towards blue roses. “i’d feel better if you kissed me.”

“if that's what liebe wants.” even in this type of situation kaiser couldn't help but scoff at her remark. his fingers brush the strands of mae's hair behind her ear before he places a chaste kiss on her cheek— one which she wasn't expecting at all.

“are we interrupting something?”

“did kaiser just kiss you.”

“kiyuri!” the said girl and ness stand in front of the door. shock is on ness' face as kiyuri had a slightly distraughted look on hers. kaiser and mae blink, both sending an innocent smile towards them.

“mae, everyone’s calling you a home wrecker.” kiyuri's previous question was rhetorical, so she wasn't expecting much of answer and ignores her attitude. the boy beside her blinks, “maybe she is.”

“listen ness, shut the fuck up.” kiyuri deadpans pretty face. ness scoffs at her, “i’m just saying.”

“it looks bad in the photo but nothing really happened, aiyumi’s my witness.” mae blurts out, stopping the unnecessary banter the two were about to go through.

“the fuck is this, a courtroom?” kiyuri clicks her tongue, quickly texting something due to a message being sent to her. “shohei’s on his way, he’s asking if the performance for the mid game is still on.”

“i have an idea.”

“why is she stripping?!” bachira meguru screams out with the rest of the crowd have their mouths agape from the scene, multiple gasps and cheers going louder at her actions. oliver shakes his head, smirking at mae's bold way to counter one of the rumours of her wearing baggy outfits to mask hickeys left on her body. just as everyone saw the blank canvas of her body that one rumour was shut down, “damn she has balls.”

mae on stage throws the shirt she had taken off on to the field, blowing a kiss towards kaiser's way with a wink. the boy himself chuckles, amused by her rather controversial idea.

ness cocks a brow out, seeing the expression on the strikers face. “kaiser?” “i guess she isn’t just a pretty face.” he smirks to himself as he watches mae turning her body around and shakes her ass towards the crowd on the beats before running off stage for the next set.

the crowd continues to watch the performance, as the social media about her scandal continues to go aflare at her supposed actions. just as the music ends, the cheers of the audience was much louder than the occasional boo's she had gotten seeing how she was the center of the group.

everyone watches as many of the dancers get off stage, but mae is the only that stays which causes a lot of the audience to question what was going on. one of the staff run and hand her a mic, mae tapping it to hush the crowd at their words.

“i just wanted to thank all the support everyone has given the team, especially since we’re going to the next round for competitions.” before mae could continue the audience is mixed with boos and congratulations for her accomplishments, one that mae just nervously laughs off.

once the crowd has started to quiet down she continues, “but i also just wanted to address those rumours about me and yamazaki sosuke, they’re not real and there’s nothing going on between us." there's a pause in her words due to the fact many of the people there had started going on their phones, yamazaki, sumire and aiyumi confirming her words and announcing the authenticy of the rumours. "fujima aiyumi was even in the room but she isn’t in the picture.”

“and i’m dating kuneda shohei.”

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 !

⠀⠀⠀⠀￫ i uh... didn't fix the time properly oops

⠀⠀⠀⠀￫ they preformed the same routine they did for qualifiers.

⠀⠀⠀⠀￫ the football team won their game, though kaiser wasn't happy the second half knowing this fact.

SPONSERS ( OPEN ) ,,, @okkotsuus @yuyan @ryuverse @renjiishot @aoshei @heartyouwon @roe-sinning @vvasant @eishtar @kakujis @sttarzxx @deskaisersliebling @luvjiro

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !

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