#the whole fic wouldn’t be written that way though i’d lose my fucking mind

[griddlebait]

Is there anything you’d like to write in the future, after sckl?

oh definitely. i have a lot of ideas on the back burner that i’m excited to get to but don’t want to spoil. depending how busy i am over the summer/early fall i might have another, much shorter fic ready for halloween (ish) but i’m not making any promises

[alldayangst]

lovebug (Tom Holland)

GIF is from gaybuckybarnes here on Tumblr. You can access my masterlist here. This was written for @worldoftom’s lolbrosgetsicktoochallenge. The prompt I had was: ‘Tom self diagnoses himself as sick. He’s got all the symptoms. He’s speechless, over the edge and just breathless. He never thought he’d get hit by the ‘love-bug’ again’. Inspired by the song Lovebug by Jonas Brothers!

A/N: Y/N is an assistant director on Cherry in this fic. This has a lot of Cherry (the movie) references but most are explained if you haven’t seen the film. Such as, it was filmed in Cleveland and Morocco, directed by Joe and Anthony Russo. Some scenes in this fic borrow from the movie & I’ve linked clips from the film if you’d like to listen/watch along. WC: 4K.

“Yeah, Mum, I’ve just got like the sorest throat at the moment.” Nikki’s picture cuts in and out on a scrambled screen on the South side of London, her husband’s hand periodically reaching out for her, rubbing her shoulder, then leaving the frame almost as quickly as it came in. Even through the low quality, the pixels dashing about his screen, Tom can make out his mother’s brows knitting together and can’t remove the feeling of utter guilt when he sees her grow redder and redder out of anger, concern and confusion for her son. “But I’ve got Harry here with me.” Harry waves from behind his brother, his trusty mug swapped for a Phoenix Coffee Cup in his spare hand, just to get a taste of the States.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He barely drinks coffee on the other side of the pond, and would bet good money that an at home PG Tips would beat America’s swankiest coffee joint any day. But now, he’s betrayed his usual routine and his body’s all out of whack and his throat is hoarse, he’s breathless even at times.

Harry shoots his mum a half smile to comfort her, but he doesn’t know what it's like to be a mother, and his and Tom’s mouth both form an ‘O’ when Nikki begins to type so hard her screen jolts and Tom swears she’s put a dent in it. “You know what? I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, Tom! They’re overworking you!” Nikki looks intensely to find her baby boy in drug-addled eyes and his jungle of curls on his newly shaven head. She guesses it becomes easier when Tom pushes his face halfway into the screen and pleads like the child he’ll always be to her, “Please, please Mum! I can’t have any days off. Under any circumstances, I need to finish this film!”

Tom turns to his younger brother for help. “Tell her, Harry!”

And as little brothers do best, Harry spills the beans as soon as Tom’s phone is in clutch. “Tom’s fallen in love with the first A.D., Y/N.”

Nikki immediately loses her frown, knowing how love can knock Tom off his feet and blow all the wind out of him. Tom’s father, Dom, re-enters the frame to match Nikki’s grin. He never misses an opportunity to tease. “Oo, caught a case of the love bug, have you?”

Harry has to whip the phone around to dodge Tom’s protesting arms reaching for it again. “Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot.” Harry mutters. Tom’s family doesn’t budge any further, knowing how bad Tom was hurt after his last relationship. They weren't sure when the love bug would come back to bite him again. So after they all shared a knowing look, Harry handed Tom his phone back. “I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

It all started five weeks ago. Tom, at 24, was beginning to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound.  Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour.

He’d say, perhaps, you were the closest thing to the real deal. The problem was, he didn’t know if you liked him back.

“When life was beginning, I saw -”

“When life was-”

“When life was be-fuck!”

“When life was beginning, I saw you.”

Tom could make a picture book out of the day he first met you. He remembers how your hair looked that day, the speckles of genuinity in your eyes, how your ear-to-ear smile seemed to be a mirror because every time he saw you from then on, he brandished the same beam. He recalls how his eyes went low as he dropped his script to his lap and stared at your lips, so soft and kissable, as you repeated his words back to him: “When life was beginning, I saw you.” Then you chuckled softly as Tom waited patiently for his head and his heart to return to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m dyslexic. I have a bit of trouble reading.”

“It’s cool, I'm the first A.D. That’s what I’m here for.”

You rubbed your hands on the back of your trousers, your mic jostling in your back pocket as you attempted to rid yourself of your nervous, sweaty palms.

“I’m Y/N.” You reached out for a shake only for Tom to cough loudly into his own hand. 

“Fuck! I’m so sorry! That wasn’t me trying to get out of your handshake. I- I-.” Tom looked at his hand for it had failed him for the first time in his life. His hand that had helped him up during handstands, being his crutch through cartwheels and backflips, but had decidedly run out of luck to be on the receiving end of Tom’s monstrous cough impending a handshake with someone his eyes just couldn’t look away from.

You laugh again. Your laugh sounds like melody, Tom muses. Awestruck, he wishes he could play it again, repeat it like a radio hit and never wash himself of the feeling he got when he heard your laugh for the first time.

“It’s all good. I’ll see you around.” You disappear from his trailer, likely on a venture to your own, when Joe and Anthony block his view of you walking away.

Anthony and Joe take on the ghost of you in Tom’s room, “Tom! The man, the myth and the legend!” Joe comes behind him to rub his newly hairless head. “We’re so glad you agreed to do this movie!” 

“Bummed that you’re not coming to the Browns game tonight, though.” Anthony remarks, throwing a football at Joe who sets it in his lap.

“Harry and I, we’re British, mate. We play football with our feet.”

Joe doesn’t know it then, but his next words are the beginning of the end for Tom. He rubs on his football and looks Tom in his eye when he poses, “It’s a shame ‘cause the whole crew’s going. First day of filming celebrations.”

“The whole crew?”

Anthony mumbles an ‘mhm’ as he picks up a framed photo of Tom and RDJ sitting pretty on Tom’s dresser, posing like father and son.

Tom’s usually self assured when he’s on set, but he’s hesitant to say this next improvised line. His voice trails off as he speaks. “Including Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Joe queries, with a smile that’s half scary and half comforting, and the butterflies in Tom’s stomach are begging him not to fuck this up and suddenly every second a word is not spoken feels like hours have passed and he might have ruined things before they’ve even started, gosh he just met you and-

Tom tries to play it cool. “I don’t- they’re cool.” Tom coughs again. “I mean, I don’t really know them but Y/N seems cool I guess.”

Anthony and Joe smile at each other, scrambling to exit. “Whole crew’s going, baby!” Joe beams.

“Please don’t tell Y/N I asked!” Tom shouts before they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah, yeah. Anthony, go long!”

A few hours later, Tom was sitting next to an unamused Harry, you on his left, foam fingers pointing every which way. 

“Are you a big football fan?” Tom asked, imposter syndrome creeping up on him. He had the best seats in the house, but knew not a thing about this sport he’d come down to watch. Meanwhile, crew and crowd alike sat themselves around you guys, cheering leaving throats raw for days to come and a tussle for a foam finger between Joe and Anthony leading to hundreds of sugary popcorn shells scattered on the stadium floor.

“I mean, I wouldn’t ever turn down the option to look at Odell Beckham Jr. Are you?” you replied.

Tom looked over to his brother who sat with his chin in his hand, lips pulled into a thin straight line as his rusty curls were blown about from the wind of brown and orange flags flown from fans behind him. “We could learn to love it.” Tom flashed you a toothy grin, unsure of where to guide the conversation next. He knew for sure that he wanted to keep talking to you, but his ego began putting up a fight, eager to show himself off if you’d have him in any way. Tom sighed. “Truth is, we have no fucking clue what’s going on.” Tom could hear the commentary about a player reaching the end zone, but they were all just words that went into one ear then came straight out of the other.

You giggled. “I have no idea either. We could make up our own rules if you want.”

Tom likes the way you think. He also likes the way you speak. He loves the way you laugh.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” 

You covered your mouth. “Oh, fuck, I hate my laugh!”

“I’d make you laugh a thousand times if I could.”

You pointed to the jumbo screen as Mayfield made a touchdown, unable to stop laughing from sheer nerves as you felt Tom’s hot, burning haze on you. An advert for Cleveland’s Own Phoenix Coffee flashed on the screen as you spoke. “We’ll make our own rules. Every time we see the quarterback pick up the ball, we’ll cheer.”

By the end of the night, Tom is speechless, breathless and over the edge of his chair in faux excitement and anticipation of the quarterback receiving the ball once again. 

“Another coffee?” The service worker asked.

“Yes please!” You and Tom both say in unison, pumped as the quarterback began circling around to collect the ball in open arms.

The footage of the game is cut abruptly as the camera points to a confused, solo Harry; Anthony and Joe are seen at the edge of the frame whispering suggestively and pointing towards Tom, the camera eventually capturing the superstar who looks back up at his own reflection. Poorly green screened hearts flood the screen and the camera pans to include you in the frame too. Tom looks on in horror when he realises what’s going on and how it could be too late, and turns to you.

“I promise I didn’t know this was going on. We don’t have to.” Tom panics. 

You hear him loud and clear, that you don’t have to, but your heart and eleven thousand people are telling you to kiss him otherwise. “Oh well. We should just do it.” you murmur, the bright pink ‘KISSCAM’ logo flashing in and out.

It doesn’t take more than a moment for the gap between you and Tom to close, for your face to get lost behind his, his lips pressing against yours, eyes closed, trusting each other to share your air. This was probably the first thing that night worth cheering for, howls and whistles erupting around you. 

Tom doesn’t understand American football, but he thinks that the best seats in the house could be anywhere next to you.

Harry’s on the phone to his twin brother, Sam, when you and the rest of the crew make it back to the hotel later on. “-Yeah, and Tom spent half the night with the first A.D. cheering and screaming at fuck all.”

The Cleveland Browns lost that night, but Tom remains none the wiser. He stood in the doorway as Harry continued to relay his day to Sam. “Oh, and Tom, Mum said to give her a call, eavesdropper.” He flicks Tom’s reddening nose before closing the door.

A week and a half later, Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He never has the time anymore to attend ‘real’ football games back home, and he actually understands the game back in Britain. But now, he’s cheered at almost every given opportunity to impress you stupidly, and his chest and voice is suffering as a consequence.

You and Tom walked onto set with your pinkies intertwined, growing closer and closer by the minute, but Tom doesn’t miss how Ciara’s boyfriend visits set every day for her, doesn’t miss how they rub their nose together in this lovey-dovey affection he wishes he could bestow upon you.

The scene wasn’t working.

The crew was beginning to grow restless and Tom silently became more frustrated as the minutes went by and he was unable to get his lines right. He remembers how a week ago, it felt so easy. You were there to correct him when he stumbled upon his lines and you picked him up so effortlessly, a twinkling smile on your face. But then? Then you were different. Your eyes were scrunched up behind the lens of the camera and you were mumbling something to Anthony about how the sun was due to go down in Ohio soon so you needed to hurry along.

“Alright.” you announced. “Take five!”

And Tom was thankful, Ciara perched upon a swing for the scene they were filming, Tom dwindling the rope of the swing under his finger as her boyfriend approached her once again. “Hey dude, are you okay?”

Ciara looked at Tom with the same concern, hands finding home in her boyfriend’s nest of hair. “Yeah, Tom, are you okay?”

Tom coughed into his hand. “Yeah, guys, I’m good.”

“I think you’re coming down with a nasty cough.” Ciara muttered.

“Yeah. It’s you guys. You’re too cute. You make me sick.” Tom laughed humourlessly for a short while, wanting to be that adorable with someone, maybe not anyone, maybe just with you someday. Then Tom shook his head, a bitter feeling in his throat as he yawned. “It’s the Browns game. I was yelling and screaming every time a quarterback got the ball. Of course I’m a little unwell. I’ll be good as new in a few days though.”

Ciara already knew Tom wasn’t playing a man with the healthiest of habits, but she worried that Tom was getting this bad this early. “Maybe you should talk to the first A.D. about reducing shoot days from five to three?”

Tom didn’t like the prospect of seeing you less. “Yeah.” Harry had a clapperboard between his hands, leading Tom’s eyebrows to furrow as his brother yelled something about it being take 13. “Maybe.” 

Harry resumed to a new position in your chair, with you taking Harry’s place right across from Tom, a coffee waiting for him when the scene was over like Harry always did. Ciara’s boyfriend left the frame to watch supportively on the sidelines.

“Lights. Camera. Action!” Anthony called. “Time is money, you guys! Let’s try to get this one right this time.” 

They’d been over this already twelve times today.

“Hey, I’m really happy you’re here.”

Ciara read her line back. “Why’s that?” 

Tom could hear whispers of the crew, the sound guy glaring at them in case they were picked up in the scene, and he knew it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t for some reason get the next line out all day. And that reason, unbeknownst to everyone, was because Tom couldn’t say something he didn’t mean - feeling like his heart was locked in a cage for which only you had the key. He looked past his co-star, Ciara, and up at you; feeling so close but you were far away, leaving him all day without anything to say. And overcoming his speechlessness and breathlessness, even in just that moment, he ran his hand over the rope to say, “Cause I like you. A lot.”

Ciara and the rest of the crew broke into a wide smile once Tom finally spoke his next line, but the only person Tom was focused on was you, who wasn’t smiling, but mouthing his words back to him.

Ciara breathed, “Shut up.”

And Tom’s sure to look you in the eye when he says, “I really do.”

When the filming for the day is said and done, Tom makes a beeline for you across the greenery. You hand over his coffee to him, “It’s a little cold now, but a warm hand is holding it.”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “Are you inviting me to hold your hand?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You swapped jobs with Harry, I saw.”

“Yeah, well. It’s good he gets to grips with the job now. You know, in case anything changes.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket. “I should probably give you my number. In case anything changes.”

“Oh no, yeah. Your number is?”

“216-XXX-XXX. Speaking of changes, I heard you’re trying to get your days reduced.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Tom looks at your face that bears no trace of guilt. “You’re just like me!” He pulls you close.

“Tom, if what happened today is because you’re working too much, I’m happy to reduce your time.”

“Nah, nah.” Tom sniffles, rubbing his nose on a jacket probably worth more than your life. “I’m just a bit sick, s’all. I’ll be fine.”

Two weeks pass and Tom’s no better. With the Cleveland game nearly a month ago, Tom has nothing to blame and as first A.D., you’re obligated to reduce his hours. Tom’s on the phone with his mother when you approach his trailer. 

“Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot. I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.” 

You’re so quick to skip happily back to your trailer that you miss Harry calling out to his brother, he’s his protector now that his mother was countries apart. “Tom?” Harry starts.

Tom mumbles an ‘mhm’, hoping Harry would make it quick as he sees you FaceTiming him. If only his mother could see him like this. He’d get to call her tomorrow and tell her he’d called you for the first time yesterday, he could hardly wait to utter, 'I've finally found the missing part of me’. Harry sighs as the FaceTime ringing is relentless. Tom’s eyebrows threaten to meet in the middle of his face as he clutches onto his phone.

“Tom.” Harry begins. “Y/N is giving up assistant director.”

Tom’s really not sure where Harry gets the source of his information from, but he’s sure this isn’t true. He thinks you’d tell him before his brother if you were leaving the film behind, leaving him behind.

The film is due to move filming to Morocco soon, and Tom’s well aware that not all film crew joins them when production moves abroad, but to Tom, you’re an extension of this movie universe. And Tom refuses to leave the memories of you in this filming cycle. “How’d you know?”

“I’m taking over.” Tom’s screen lights up with the glow of your call, and as bright as it is, as bright as you are, as bright as your smile surely is on the other end of the phone call, Tom’s in his deepest darkest feelings wondering how he fooled himself into thinking romance could go right for him this time. 

He’s going to Morocco. You’re not. You’re funny, smart, promising, beautiful. You’ll find someone good for you, a better pair by the time he’s back.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t work out, man.” Tom sulks in his bed, the light from your constant calls bleeding through his bed sheets. “I just wanted to warn you.” Tom nods, screaming into his pillow. Harry decides that’s his cue to leave, a glimmer of light from outside seeping through the crack of the door as Harry escorts himself. Tom musters all his might and courage to reluctantly answer your phone, the ear-to-ear grin he knows so well greeting him once again.

Suddenly, he forgot how to speak. Hopeless, breathless, couldn’t you see that?

“Tom?” You call out his name a few times before cutting straight to the point. “Do you like me?”

Tom shifts slightly but not enough to show that he’s alarmed. “Huh? Yeah, I like you.”

He sits up, but doesn’t reciprocate the outrageous smile you wear like a heart on your sleeve. Tom’s eyes are sunken, dark circles forming under his eyes where he and his disturbed character become one. You suddenly remember why you shouldn’t have run away so fast, perhaps Tom was overworking himself. He continues, “But I’m an emotionally unavailable hopeless romantic. So I wouldn’t waste your time on me.”

Tom can’t help the hurt in his heart when he sees your smile drop so suddenly, knowing it was earnest. “Tom, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, life is unfair. And I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead. We wouldn’t work out. And I like our friendship now. We should stay that way.”

You’re not convincing when you nod rapidly, not letting Tom see your face as you play with your fingers to avoid his gaze. “Yeah, I agree.” You’re much less convincing when the last frame Tom caught of you was a shot of tears dripping down your face, as three rings followed you. Tom’s screen went black in your absence, and Tom falls asleep with eyes even redder from crying, and he wonders when he’s gonna shake this sickness.

It’d been a few days since Tom had got his shots to allow him to go to Morocco. He sat opposite the doctor on set, a coffee cup placed on the desk between him.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. Shots always have their side effects, and he’d taken multiple shots in one day. And now, he specifically asked for you to hold his hand during the process, Harry branded in a glinting jaw-drop, only for you to leave directly after. 

“I’m speechless, constantly feeling over the edge, breathless.” Tom explains his symptoms to the doctor. “At first I thought it was because of that stupid football game, then all the coffee I’m drinking, now I don’t know if it’s the shots. I feel like shit, doc.”

“I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“What?”

“Lovebug.”

Tom stares at the doctor in utter bewilderment. “You figured that out based on my symptoms?”

“I figured that out based on the puppy dog eyes you gave for your first A.D. when they left without a word.” The doctor begins to laugh softly, but Tom is unamused. How is he supposed to shake this illness after completely ruining your relationship? How is he supposed to mend your bond after talking so recklessly, so emotionally? “Tom, I’m not here to be a fairy godmother, I’m being strictly medical. At a certain point, what you feel in your mind affects your body. So I prescribe that you talk to Y/N and say everything you need to say.”

And while that seemed easy enough, Tom’s ego was at work again, and Tom was feeling far too bruised and wounded to speak to you first. Surely if you cared enough, if you liked him back, if you were willing to be distanced, you would reach out first.

It seems Tom’s pride had forgotten that you already did.

“I heard that this is the exact shit that happened in Cleveland, and he couldn’t get the line out.” Tom hears the whisperings from behind the camera, the amount of familiar faces in the crew dwindling after the change in location. He doesn’t respond. He waits for someone to take five. And when no one throws him a bone, he asks Harry to.

“Alright, everyone take five.”

“Someone get this kid a fucking coffee, he’s always on edge.” Joe instructs.

“And you think giving a kid in twenties coffee is taking him off edge?” Anthony chuckles.

Tom doesn’t care whether or not he gets the coffee, rocking side to side. He’s got all the motion for this role, but he feels nothing. All he felt was for you.

“Here.” Harry sets a Moroccan mint tea down next to Tom, hoping it would calm him down. When Tom takes a few sips, the look in his eyes is less pleading, and everyone’s ready to rumble, this being the last scene of the day.

Harry feeds Tom the line. “Baby, are you seeing bad things?” Tom is seeing bad things. A life without love, a life without you. Unable to contain it all, Tom turns his frustration into laughter. “Why are you calling me baby for, man?” Tom has this ear-to-ear grin but even he feels it's not as innocent, as genuine as yours. He never knew a smile so wide could be so full of pain.

“I have an idea.” Harry saunters off to collect his phone. “Don’t stop rolling the cameras.”

When Harry comes back, there’s sounds of shifting erupting from his phone. “Hi, Tom.” 

Tom didn’t know it would be so bittersweet to hear your voice again. He wasn’t sure if he should put walls up again or if twice was the charm. Even if you worked out in the short term, whose to say Tom wouldn’t get hurt again? And Tom wouldn’t want to hurt you.

“Are they taking good care of you out there? I don’t think I took good care of you.” Tom doesn’t say anything on the other side of the line, so you continue. “I’m not a good A.D. if you’re always sick and tired, and I didn’t want to see you any less, which was selfish of me, so I didn’t change your schedule.” You sigh as you admit why you left. “When you asked, though, I swear I was gonna do it, but then I heard you liked me, and I got carried away. I had to remove myself from the situation to do what’s best for you. Do you understand me? I did it for you.”

“I, uh, I got a diagnosis.” Tom stumbles.

“Oh my gosh, are you seriously sick?”

“I’m speechless. Over the edge, breathless.” Tom laughed dryly, finally feeling like he can choose an ending.

“What did they say it was?”

“Lovebug.” Harry smiles softly at his brother.

Your laugh is like nectar entering Tom’s ear.

“I might just love you way too much, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you’re doin’ okay?” Tom tries his best not to sound dejected that you didn’t say it back, knowing he’s already felt the brunt of this heartache already.

“I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too. I love you.” Joe stops recording, and Harry lowly whispers ‘take.fucking.five.’ as he and the crew creep away from Tom’s new found love scene. 

“Anthony, can I borrow your phone?” Harry begins to type Nikki’s number as soon as Anthony gives over the phone. “Mum, Tom just told the first A.D. he’s in love with them so guess who’s out of a job?”

Tom knows why he’s sick. He used to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour. But now, Tom has found you.

[cigarettesandslushies]

destress // jd x stressed!reader

jd helps you destress from studying for midterms 

word count: 1,700 

tw: language, smut, ambiguous gender but was written for a female!reader in mind

requests & questions

Note: Hello! I’m a new writing blog! I am an aspiring writer and thought it would be fun to get in some practice by writing for some of my favorite fandoms. I’ve been wanting to write JD x Reader fics for a while so I’m happy to finally be doing that. Please feel free to send in requests! This is my first-time writing smut so be gentle with me (even if JD isn’t being gentle with you). -Ellie

“Shit, did a fucking tornado hit your room?”

You didn’t acknowledge the intruder that entered through your bedroom window. You didn’t have the time to. With multiple midterms coming up that you weren’t the least bit prepared for, every second from now until then was precious.

“Not even a hello, darling?”

You could tell that a brow of his was quirked, teasing. He very well knew that midterms were next week. Though, compared to you, he couldn’t give less of a shit. How you wish you could do the same.

“JD, not now.” You warned.

He stood, appraising your midterm wrecked room quietly. Notes, textbooks, and wrappers galore decorated various surfaces, from the floor to the bed to your vanity.

He walked, watching each step as he made his way towards you. You were hunched over your desk, nose deep in one of your textbooks. Your highlighter was tapping against the wood of your desk, keeping time with the anxious bounce of your leg.

He was behind you in the next moment, resting his head against yours. He placed his hands on your thighs firmly, slowing your movements. You took a deep breath, setting your book down. Your head titled up, moving his head from yours in order to meet his gaze.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of your lips upon seeing him. God, he was such a better sight than statistics.

“Hello.” You murmured.

He matched your smile, dropping his volume to yours. “See? Now was that so hard?” He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Hello, darling. How are you? Did you miss me?”

You rested your head back against him. Your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the warmth of his body. “No. Not even a little bit. Statistics has been the best company.”

“Oh, really? I’m going to wager that stats is fucking you pretty hard.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Maybe even harder than you.”

“Are you challenging me? You know I always win.”

You took a deep breath. The slight smile gone from your face and replaced with a deep frown. Your eyebrows pulled together, your face scrunching to meet the stress headache growing.

“JD, you know on any other day I would want you to win. I can’t.”

“Come on, give me just an hour.”

“Bullshit.” You were quick to reply. Your eyes flew open to stare up at him. “Like we’ve ever gone just an hour. You keep me for multiple hours which I don’t have. I’m already losing sleep as it is. I promise you can keep me up some other night but tonight-“

He stepped back, grabbing the back of your chair, and spinning you to face him. “Darling,” he drawled slowly. “You’re losing it.”

You blinked once, your gaze falling into your lap as you processed his words. Your hands met your head, elbows resting on your knees as you curled up into yourself. “I know.” You spoke into your hands. “God, JD, I’m so fucking stressed. I have so many midterms to study for without enough hours in the day. I can’t fail these. They’re worth so much of my grade. It will ruin my GPA if I get anything less than-”

“Sh, sh…” he crouched, leveling himself with you. “How about we round up your teachers in an abandoned building and blow it up, hm? Would that make this all better?”

You would have laughed if you didn’t know that he was completely serious. This boy would do anything for you. He’s proved that time and time again. “Getting rid of the teachers wouldn’t get rid of the classes themselves. I’d still have to take the midterms eventually.”

“You’d at least get more time.”

“True.” You agreed. Another deep breath and you lifted your head from your hands. “I think it would just be easier for me to study. It would take time and planning to pull it off and anyway, do you want to go through a whole grieve fest at school?”

“It would make for an interesting week.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“No, I’m hilarious.” He took your hands in his, pulling you up from your seat. “Fine, no offing the teachers, but you know the more that you try to cram all that shit in your head, the more it will spill out. Breaks are healthy, recommended even.”

A finger under your chin, a thumb resting below your lip, he brought his face closer to yours. He was close, too close. You smelled his last cigarette and a cherry slushie lingering in his breath.

“Let me help you destress.” He ghosted the words over your lips. How could you ever think that you could deny him? How could you ever think that he wouldn’t get his way?

All it took was a quiet please and his hands were everywhere.

With one swift movement, JD knocked the contents of your desk onto the floor. With another, you were sitting on top of it, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He caught your lips with his, too slow, too gentle.

You didn’t have the patience for his teasing.

You intertwined your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer. You pressed your lips harder against his, showing him your eagerness to have him, just as he wanted.

You could feel him smirk against your lips, his hands moving to undress you from the waist down.

“Well, would you look at that? For someone who didn’t want to even acknowledge me, you sure are eager to have me inside of you.”

You bit back a moan, his words touching you before he even laid a hand between your legs.

Fucking asshole and his way with dirty talk.

“Jason Dean, you’re a pain in my ass.” You replied breathlessly.

A low chuckle followed as you dragged your lips across his jawline in a sporadic series of kisses. You bucked your hips up towards him, a sign for him to hurry the hell up and take you already.

You would have been surprised if he actually took the sign instead of ignoring it and taking another direction.

“Nu uh, darling. I can’t shove my cock in you and fuck you into the desk until the wood chips just yet. With how stressed you are over midterms, I’m not sure if you can handle it. So let me loosen you up first, hm?”

He didn’t wait to slip a finger inside of you, then two, and then three. You leaned back along the desk, your elbows barely keeping you up and steady. He set a rhythm, relishing the sounds that you made for him and him alone. Whimpers, gasps, and moans alike were all tangled with his name.

He felt you were getting close. He could always tell, sometimes before you even knew. You never quite knew how close you were to falling off the edge until he was pulling away from you, leaving you empty and longing for him to fill you again.

Just like he liked it.

“JD,” you breathed shakily. You didn’t realize that your elbows had failed you early on and you were lying completely flat against the desk. You shifted your weight, lifting yourself back up and onto your elbows once more. Your eyes narrowed when you caught his gaze.

“What? Did you not want to cum on my cock after all?” He asked innocently, a contrast to the words that came from his mouth.

“God, I could kill you.”

“There can be only one killer in this relationship, darling.” He drawled, undoing his jeans. He was hard and so ready to fuck you until you couldn’t remember the population versus the sample. He hesitated, almost expecting another retort, another “you’re not funny”, but no. You weren’t going to drag this out any longer. You wanted him now.

You needed him now.

“JD, please. For the love of god, fuck me.”

He didn’t even have to ask for a please. He knew that meant there was nothing else in your head but wanting him to fuck you.

Would there ever come a time that he wouldn’t get exactly what he wanted?

“Only because you asked so nicely.” It only took a single beat, a single thrust before he was inside of you completely, barely giving you a chance to adjust to him. You let yourself fall back onto the desk, crying out his name.

The rhythm he set was faster, rougher. His fingers curled over your shoulders. His hands pushed you down as his hips pushed you up. Every thrust was met with force. He never let you move. He did the moving for you. He was in full control, using your body for his pleasure which just so happened to cause you pleasure.

A perfect match, that’s what he said, and you believed it. He knew exactly where to hit the tip of his cock to make you-

“JD, I’m getting-”

“Mmm, I can feel that. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.”

“JD-”

His lips caught the rest of your whine. His movements were sloppier now, his hands messily tangling themselves in your hair. He was close too.

As he pulled back ever so slightly, he uttered three words. “Cum for me.”

With that, you came undone and he followed closely behind. Screams and moans of ecstasy were muffled against one another’s lips. It took a few moments for the both of you to catch your breath. He waited until your breathing steadied to pull out.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “There. That should get you through stats.”

You laughed. “It should, but is it going to get me through French?”

“Finish studying for stats and we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s get you cleaned up and while you finish studying, I’ll go get you some real food. No more of this granola shit.”

He began walking towards the bathroom but stopped halfway across your room. He didn’t turn to look at you when he said:

“You’re one of the smartest people I know. I know it’s not much coming from a town full of slaves and blanks but if there’s anyone who can pass these midterms it’s you.”

He continued walking.

[the-bau-quinjet]

I don't give a damn

Steve x f!reader

Summary: Sometimes Steve's forgets how times have changed. You're there to sing him a song about it.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kisses, themes of sexism, i guess spoilers for Annie Get Your Gun (although that's from the 50s so I don't really think it needs much warning lol)

Word Count: 3020

a/n: another karaoke fic (because I wasn't kidding when I said I love them). Most of the songs I've been listening to have come from a playlist aptly titled ffs. It stands for both "for fucks sake" and "feminist fight songs" in my mind, hence the similar theme of this fic and My Name Isn't. This one was inspired by Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation"!

Masterlist

You and Steve don't see eye to eye on most things. It's not that you don't get along. You respect each other too much to fight about everything, but you have differing opinions on most things.

Take movie night for example. Cap always wants to watch something from his list. He's always trying to pick a "classic".

Most of the time, you would rather watch something you haven't seen. Unless it's a comfort thing, you don't really like repeating movies.

You both understand the other's perspective, so rather than a screaming match you typically settle it with a game of rock, paper, scissors.

Unfortunately, that's how most of your interactions go.

Outside of missions and team building nights Tony forces upon the group, you don't spend much time with him. The two of you are just polar opposites.

The problem with that? You have a massive crush on Mr. America himself.

Not that anyone else would know that. You're highly trained in the art of covert operations. You know how to hide your feelings, although you are certain Natasha at least suspects something.

You've resigned yourself to taking this secret to your grave, that is until Cap says something one movie night that sets you on edge.

-

"Rock, Paper, Scissors, shoot!" You held out your fist, having chosen rock.

Steve smirks, covering your fist with his open palm. "Paper beats rock, time for another 'classic'." He squeezes your hand before letting go. He picks up his book, trailing the pencil down the page for the next movie.

The high you were currently riding from his touch quickly dissipated when he announced the movie he wanted to watch.

"Annie Get Your Gun is next on the list." He smiled, closing the book before returning it to his pocket.

You couldn't help but scoff, "who suggested that one?" Annoyed at the sexist themes of the 50s musical movie.

"Someone said to watch all of the best pictures/musicals from the Academy Awards to see how times have changed." Steve scrunched his face in thought. "I can't remember who though."

"What? Most of those movies are terrible if you ask me." You whined a bit, annoyed at the idea of watching your least favorite type of movies.

"Your just annoyed cause you lost rock, paper, scissors. Let the man cross it off his list and move on." Sam chimed in from across the room.

You huffed, making a face at Sam before turning to get more comfortable on the couch. "Fine, this one still sucks though." You frowned, nonplussed by the idea of watching another 'classic' with another sexist storyline.

Somehow, you sat through the musical without any interruptions, unless you counted aggressively rolling your eyes.

The second it was over, you were turning the TV off, excited to be done with it. You were three steps from the exit when Cap called out to you.

"I don't know why you hate that musical so much, Y/N. I thought it was sweet what Annie did for Frank."

You narrowed your eyes as you turned back to him. "Would you lose on purpose to 'get the girl'?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the phrase. "Would any of you?" You looked at all the men in the room.

"I don't think it'd be very fair. Wouldn't want her to think she was better than me if she's not. Besides, it depends on the girl." He may have been going for a flirty tone, but you just grew angrier at Steve's response.

"Right, because why should you have to pretend to be worse to appease someone else?" Everyone in the room could see where you were going with this. Everyone, that is, but Steve.

"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it." Steve nodded along, glad the two of you were finally agreeing on something.

"The why'd you think it was sweet when Annie did it?" You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes even farther. "The whole musical Frank was too stubborn, his ego too big, to deal with the fact that Annie was better than him. 'You can't get a man with a gun'? Bullshit, you could always shoot him." You let out a dry laugh at your own joke, completely fed up with sexism in movies being written off as love.

Steve was taken aback at how everything had shifted. He thought he was finally in agreement with you on something, so he clung to it. "But she did it for love... her reputation, all the medals, they still showed how good she was." Halfway through speaking, he realized he was only making it worse, but it was too late. The damage was done.

"For fuck's sake, she shouldn't have to pretend to be any less of a badass sharpshooter than she is to find love." With another roll of your eyes, you went to leave, stopping again at the sound of Steve's voice.

"Maybe she was just scared she wouldn't find anyone with that reputation." He nearly smacked himself for that one, why couldn't he just shut up? He just didn't want you to be mad at him.

With one hand on the doorway, you looked over your shoulder. "That reputation? I'd rather have that reputation than a relationship where I have to feed his ego." With that, you walked to the elevators, beyond ready to call it a night.

-

"I'm an idiot." Steve sighed, head in his hands, elbows on his knees while sitting on Bucky's bed.

"Yep. You just kept digging." Bucky agreed easily, not sure where to start with the advice.

Steve shot him a glare as he began pacing back and forth. "I mean, she clearly didn't like the movie. Why did I even start the conversation? I should have just let her walk away. She already barely tolerates my presence as it is. We disagree about everything, even if we rarely fight over it. I should've just cut my losses and enjoyed the time we spent together, even if it was with everyone."

"Punk, you need to relax. Just go apologize, then maybe you'll actually go to sleep at some point tonight." Bucky shoved Steve out the door, slamming it shut before he could object.

Mumbling about what a jerk Bucky is, Steve made his way to your door. He hesitated, turned around, walked a few steps, turned around again, and eventually knocked.

You opened the door with a yawn, having been close to sleep when the noise startled you. "What d'ya need, Cap?"

He couldn't help but smile at your sleepy state, never having seen you this unguarded before. "Uh, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. You're entitled to your opinion, and there was no reason for me to fight you on it."

A look of annoyance briefly flashed across your face at the mention of the movie, but you relaxed given his apology. "I'm glad we can agree then. It's a terrible movie."

"Oh, no, I still like the movie." He had never wanted the ground to swallow him whole more than he did in that moment. Floundering for a way to undo what he just said, he started rambling. "I mean, you're right. It is kind of sexist, but that was just the time period you know? Like in the 40s, dames had to constantly worry about how their actions would affect their reputations." Up to that point, he had been staring at the floor, rapidly spewing more words. "I mean, you wouldn't want a bad reputation, right?" He chose the wrong sentence to make eye contact.

The sleepy, slightly confused smile was gone, replaced by a look he had hoped to never have directed at him. You spoke with an eerie sort of calm when you replied. "I think you're a little stuck in the 40s, Cap. I shouldn't have to worry about my reputation anymore than any man does his. Goodnight."

For the second time that night, a door slammed in his face. Bucky was definitely wrong. He would not be getting any sleep after talking to you.

-

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's karaoke night. Yes, I've rented a bar. No, you may not stay home. We start at 8!" Tony walked in, made his announcement, and instantly walked right back out.

Everyone nodded, taking in the brief encounter with Tony. Well, everyone but you and Steve. The two of you were too stuck in your heads to listen to Tony's ramblings.

It had been three days since movie night, and Steve still hadn't worked up the courage to talk to you again.

What could he even say to explain why he was so flustered? "Sorry for the other night, I can't seem to form coherent thoughts when I'm around you, because even though we rarely talk outside of missions, I have a massive crush on you"? No, that was definitely coming on too strong.

He just needed to find the right words.

Meanwhile, you were confused. You never would have imagined Steve to be so stuck in the past. Of course, you understood things were different before he got stuck in the ice, but he's really made leaps and bounds in his understanding of feminism and equality since he first realized what year it was.

You wanted to ask him where the whole speech came from, but you were afraid of the answer.

"I guess that means it's time to get ready since it's already 6:30! I swear, he never gives us enough notice for these things." Wanda smiled at Vision, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, before grabbing you and Nat to go change.

"What are we getting ready for?" You asked when Wanda finally let go of your arm, having entered the elevator.

"Karaoke! Didn't you her Tony?" She eyed you suspiciously, clearly debating whether or not to look into your mind.

"She was too stuck in her head to notice me throwing popcorn at her, she definitely didn't listen to Tony." Nat smirked at your startled expression, laughing when you reached up to brush the kernels out of your hair.

You glared at both of them, "I was just thinking about some stuff. That's all."

"Yeah, some stuff named Steve." Wanda cackled, having decided to peak into your head. It was for your own good after all.

"Wanda! You said you wouldn't read my mind unprovoked." You wanted to be angry, but part of you was relieved you wouldn't have to keep this secret anymore.

"It was provoked! You wouldn't tell me what you were thinking about." Wanda smiled, also knowing that you were happy to have shared the secret, even if not by choice.

"And don't try to change the subject. Steve, huh? Somebody's got a crush." She was taunting you like a child would on a playground, shaking her head back and forth for emphasis.

"Well, yeah, but that's not what I why I was thinking about him." They each gave you a pointed look, obviously not believing you. "Seriously! I was thinking about movie night." You frowned, upset at the memory.

You quickly filled them in on what Steve said when he came to talk to you as you made your way to Nat's room to get ready. (She has the biggest vanity, so it makes the most sense to go to her room).

"I can't picture Steve trying to defend himself like that. Normally if he's fallen back into his old ways, someone points it out and he apologizes." Nat made a face, trying to put two and two together. "Unless..." She looked at Wanda, gesturing for her to read her mind.

"Oh my god!" Wanda squealed, nearly knocking you over with her excitement. "Steve's got a crush, toooooo." She happily dragged it out, much to Nat's amusement.

"Please, the man barely talks to me as it is. Our most substantial conversation revolved around my 'bad reputation' or lack thereof." You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the memory. "I seriously doubt he's got a crush. I do want to fix this though. I don't like when people are avoiding me. I get all stressed about accidentally running into them."

"He totally has a crush." Wanda smiled again.

"It's the only reason he would turn into a rambling idiot in front of you." Nat added.

"What song should I sing tonight?" You desperately tried to change the subject.

Wanda smirked, already having a perfect song in mind. "I think I've got one that could solve both your problems..." She filled you and Nat in on her plan, and although you doubted the crush aspect of it all, it was a good way to break the ice in terms of Steve avoiding you.

Hopefully it would show him you were more confused than upset, and everything would work out.

You changed quickly, embracing 80s fashion to go with your song choice. You wore black leather pants and a matching jacket, slipping on a tight red shirt underneath. Although, you still did your hair like you normally would, not fully committing to the 80s vibes.

With the addition of some red lipstick, a rarity for you, you were ready. Wanda and Nat finished their looks as well, and the three of you left for the bar.

-

You were honestly a little surprised when Steve walked up to you immediately after you walked into the bar. He handed you your favorite drink, smiling as he took in your ensemble.

"I wanted to apologize. I didn't mean all that stuff I said, just sometimes I forget how much things have changed and I-" You cut him off, not wanting him to suffer (or ramble) too much.

"Steve, it's fine. I was honestly more confused than anything else." He smiled, taking a sip from the drink he provided you.

"Really? You definitely looked angry when you slammed the door in my face." He outwardly cringed at bringing it up again.

"Okay, I was angry at first, but then I was mostly confused." You nodded, trying to convey that you weren't upset with him anymore.

"Good. I'm glad because avoiding you was getting pretty difficult." He wanted to smack himself again. Why does he always say the stupidest things around you?

To his relief, you laughed at his 'joke'. "Plus, this makes my song choice even more fun." You winked before walking back over to Wanda and Nat, leaving Steve to wonder about your performance.

-

"Y/N! You're up next." Tony called from his seat near the stage. He really liked to enforce his 'everyone must participate in team building, that's how it becomes team building' philosophy when it comes to karaoke night.

You couldn't help but smirk at Steve as he whipped his head around to witness you walking onto the stage. He's been eagerly awaiting your performance.

Everyone who knew the song started laughing at the first sounds of the guitar. The two super soldiers though? They were confused.

"I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation."

Once you started singing, you couldn't take your eyes off of Steve. He was blushing at being called out, Bucky's hysterical laughter next to him not really helping the situation.

"Living in the past, it's a new generation."

Bucky nearly fell out of his chair laughing. Even Steve had a smile on his face. You bobbed your head to the music, relying on your previous drinks to really get into the performance.

"A girl can do what she wants to do, and that's what I'm gonna do. And I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation. Oh no, not me."

You put air quotes around bad, really playing it up since everyone was having so much fun with it. Tony, Nat, Wanda, and Sam were jumping around, dancing as you sang. Bucky was still trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard. Steve was full on grinning by the last chorus, slightly shaking his head at your antics.

"So, why should I care about a bad reputation, anyway?"

In typical Tony fashion, he saing along for the "oh no, not me" bit of the song, encouraging everyone to scream the words with him.

By the time the song was over, you were a little out of breath, sweating a bit from the lights.

"Now's your chance, punk. Go bring her another drink." Bucky shoved the glass in his hand and gave Steve a slight push in your direction as you walked off the small stage.

You hugged Nat and Wanda before making your way toward the bar. Steve intercepted you, handing you the freshly made drink.

You smiled, uttering a quick thanks before eagerly taking a sip. The cold liquid did wonders for your parched throat.

"That was quite the performance. Really called me out 'on my bullshit' as you would say." You couldn't help but laugh and tease him a bit more.

"Captain, language!" You placed your empty hand on his shoulder, sliding down to his chest with your next question. "Whatever will the world think of you?"

"Well, recently I've adopted a new motto." He whispered, leaning in closer so you could here. "I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation."

Caught off guard by his use of the lyric, you laughed, leaning into your hand on his chest for support.

"Something we agree on then." Your breath caught in your throat when you realized just how close he was.

"I think there's one more thing we agree on..." He trailed off, eyes quickly glancing down at your lips.

"What might that be, Cap?" Your eyes drifted down his face as well, giving him enough courage to lean in.

His lips caught yours in a passionate kiss. He pulled you closer as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The two of you moved in sync, as if you were made for each other.

You were so lost in each other, you paid no attention to the cheers from your teammates. You didn't even register Nat and Wanda screaming "I told you so" as Steve pulled you in for a second kiss.

[uponrightful]

So, I love possessive, jealous Crosshair 🥵 Tell me about this scene (please?):

“Trouble doesn’t suit you, doll.” He murmured lowly, soft voice contrasting the slight pressure over her pulse point and the swell of her hip. Crosshair was all-consuming and Dutch was weak to do anything but try to stay silent under his pressing weight and commanding presence at her back.

Also, I’d love to know what Echo was thinking once Cross went to the fresher after Dutch.

You’re the best! 😘

Commentary Track for Coriolis Effect

Copy 500 words -or more- of any of my fics and I'll give you my thoughts/rambles on what was going through my head -or the character's- when I wrote it!

*send one in here anytime!*

My oh my! 😍 What spicy scene we have here. I'll start with what's going on with Crosshair first, then I'll come back for Echo and the rest of the Batch. haha

***

Crosshair is fuming with rage during his conversation with Echo: It's that kind of bodily energy you get after watching a action-movie, where your whole body feels tired, but it's twitching with adrenaline that can't be spent or released. That kind of feeling you can't get rid of no matter what you do to ignore it, or work through it. Your mind feels like it working so fast that it's in slow-motion, overanalyzing the smallest details until your grinding your teeth because there's nothing else that helps relieve the pressure.

But the second he enters the refresher all of that energy snaps from anger and fear for Duchess, into dead calm. His inner voice stops screaming and evens out in tone and his hands stop shaking. His breathing slows and the second Cross sees her standing there, it's like he's been meditating deeply for hours. This kind of concentration is only present in Crosshair one other time... And you guessed it. When he's shooting.

Note: This is the epitome of Crosshair's ability to manage impulse-control in unfamiliar -and stressful- situations. Key-word here being "unfamiliar." I firmly believe that Cross is painfully terrible at monitoring and expressing his emotions. He has so many of them all the time that from a young age he had to learn how to turn them off in a moments notice, simply so he could survive. Think about it... How can a sniper worry about his brothers dying right before his eyes and still make clean shots? Not even Crosshair can do that. So the second he's certain Dutch is safe -by visually proving her health- that well-trained nature takes over to protect him like it always does.

Crosshair -at this point- isn't sure what he wants. He needs to touch her though, remind himself that she's tangible and within reach. Not that he isn't aware of his effect on her, but this moment isn't about sexual appeal or attraction. This is desperation, and Crosshair knows that; He's just banking on the hope that she'll let him, because she's always done so. He feels safe with Duchess, and even though this feels/looks sexy, Crosshair feels completely vulnerable right now.

Note: I will say it now; Once and for all. I have never subscribed to the idea that Crosshair is a typical Dominant/BDSM/Sadisim kind of guy. And the distinction is all to do with motivation. I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out why he acts the way he does, and how that manifests itself. So when I planned this scene, I wanted to focus on just how strong his desire to have security is. Not prowess, or control. It's all to do with the desperate need he has to prove how he feels about her. That kind of vulnerability just comes easier to him physically than it does emotionally. Duchess gives him a sense of stability -in and out of the sexual sense- that makes his characterization insanely complex and difficult to balance.

The moment he finds his words, it's a compulsory need to cover his own jealousy. Crosshair is undoubtedly unhappy knowing she went out with Regs... but what's really bothering him is how easy it is to feel so strongly for Duchess. Every time he speaks, it's intentionally driving attention towards someone else, and away from his own desire to be the focus of her attention. Cross uses his fear of her being unsafe to mask the jealousy that constantly compares himself to the others who can give her attention more freely than he can personally. Duchess sees his calm nature as patience and precision, but it's really Crosshair planning out what he's going to say because he knows one wrong move will reveal just how desperate he is to have her acceptance of him.

Note: I've never struggled to balance possessiveness and love like I have with Crosshair. He's so intense that if I'm not careful, he comes off like a walking red-flag. Word choice is essential when getting Cross' character and reactions right. Whether it be the way he talks to her, or the way he naturally falls into a protector role. That's why when I'm writing for him, it takes double the time it does to write anything else. Every movement, every word he says, needs to be written like he says it in the moment. That's the only way to show his softness... because the love that he gives is best felt in person. You can't describe Crosshair's love with words easily.

Now for sweet, sweet, Echo.

Let me preface this by saying: Echo is his brother's keeper. There is a relationship there that goes far deeper than the ones Crosshair holds for his other brothers. It happened slowly, but it wasn't until the two of them were too far into it that either recognized what had happened. Their personalities are something that wouldn't really mix on first glance, but for some reason or another, they just get each other. It's natural, and they gravitate towards each other.

That being said, Duchess and Echo are their own kind of dynamic. I see them as the "platonic-soulmate" kind. She has an intensity that Echo marvels at, and Dutch knows she could take any problem to him and he would do anything to help her. They both see something in the other that they wish they still had, or could develop. It's probably the purest friendship Duchess has ever had, and Echo can't help but harken back to Fives when he sees her attitude -in future chapters.

Note: From the first moment I created Duchess, I just knew in my heart she was meant to be something special to Echo. To me, it was only right that Crosshair's doll would feel strongly connected to Echo as well. Add in their common feeling of loss for brothers, and that just made their relationship that much stronger. She's such a force, and the ARC trooper can't help but find a enamorment with people who have such a strong will and fiery personality. (See Fives)

The moment Echo sees Crosshair, he's already preparing to do anything necessary to protect Duchess from incurring another possible hit to her bruised emotions. Echo trusts Crosshair, but he's highly attentive to Cross and how raw his emotions are. Their interaction is based in Echo's desire to save the couple from losing the chance to do things the right way. Intuition and experience guide Echo through the whole conversation; He really is flying by the seat of his blacks here... But he's so well-versed in reading Crosshair that none of the other Batcher's even think about offering to be the first one Crosshair faces when he comes in the bunk hall. Echo has unmatched faith in Cross, and this was something both of them knew would happen.

Note: Writing this scene was challenging for a number of reasons. For one, neither Echo or Crosshair really talk a whole lot. They say what they need to, and that's the end of it. So I spent days watching Echo and Crosshair's interactions. Trying to figure out what I could based off the -very little- examples I was given. In that, I found that the two of them hardly ever stand next to each other, but they're constantly sharing glances and looking at each other. Echo and Crosshair have silent conversations all. the. time.

Had Echo not allowed Crosshair to go and see Duchess, their sexy scene would have never happened. (And I played around with that idea very seriously...) Ultimately, Echo's intuition was the deciding factor. That conversation, and Crosshair's attempt at honesty was the reason Echo felt confident in letting him speak to her. And although Echo could sense Crosshair's patience running thin, he'd already told the rest of the Batch to be prepared for any fight. Echo wouldn't put it past Cross to stun him, but a gut-feeling kept him from mentally preparing to do the same thing.

Additionally, it was Echo who made everyone leave the bunk hall. The second Crosshair and himself reached an agreement, Echo was the first to step away. His next move was to shove the rest of the Batch out the doors and give Duchess and Crosshair the privacy needed to work through their shit. And although he expected it to end in sex, the desire to keep their business between them alone was Echo's main motivation to empty the bunk room. Neither Crosshair or Duchess really trust the Batch at this moment -in Echo's mind at least- and risking their privacy wasn't something the ARC would stand for. In the back of his mind though, Echo was terrified that Crosshair would fuck her and leave it at that. He's seen the sniper at his best and his worst, and although his best is wonderful, his worst can be miserable to endure. Echo was praying that Crosshair wouldn't be too harsh -physically and mentally- on Duchess.

When Hunter finally decided enough time had passed, Echo was on edge to see just where the two of them would be. The image of them sleeping in separate bunks: Crosshair pretending to sleep -like always- and Duchess laying quietly and pretending like nothing happened shook Echo to his core. But the second he saw her bunk in a disarray, and her not in it, Echo couldn't help but fucking grin. He was proud of his brother for doing the right thing. For doing something for himself, and not worrying about how it would make him look for once. Add in the way Crosshair reprimanded Tech, and how deathly serious he looked with her sleeping peacefully against him...?

That was the moment Echo knew for certain that Crosshair was never coming back from this. He saw a visible change in his brother, in the way his attitude changed. The way Crosshair wasn't worried about himself, or attempting to hide behind sneers and sarcastic comments. Echo noticed how attuned he was to her in that moment, putting her comfort above all else. For a man who pretended to not care about anything, Crosshair did a terrible job of hiding his true personality when Duchess was curled up into him. And Echo couldn't be happier, knowing that his trust in Crosshair hadn't been for nothing. Not only was his brother experiencing love in a way that all of them desired, but Duchess was never going to live with the question of whether or not someone truly cared for her.

***

I hope this was what you were looking for in-terms of answers 😅. I had a great time writing this for you, and I hope you'll feel comfortable doing this again whenever you feel like it! I love sharing the behind-the-scenes stuff with you! It makes the cuts and editing feel a little less sad knowing I might be able to share some of it with you anyways!

[falsegoodnight]

this is part two of my december fic rec! this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 18th to the 28th!! it’s also my birthday today which makes it even more special! i can think of no better way to spend today than spreading positivity! :)

you can find part one of this month here

✰ there’s happiness because of you by @hadestyles | NR | 1k - (so soft, tender, and beautiful!! rori’s writing amazes me always! and this was written for my birthday because they’re an angel <3)

Thursday mornings have always been their favourite.

✰ and it gets colder and colder by @hadestyles | E | 2K - (another rori fic!! once again, beautiful prose! made me feel emotional!)

Harry wants to take care of Louis. Things take a turn.

✰ make my wish come true by @soldouthaz | M | 3k - (drabble from this series) (so cute, lovely, soft, amazing!!! made my heart so happy! this is also dedicated to me which :’) sarah angel chant)

The taste of Christmas cookies fresh out of the oven and peppermint hot chocolate is still heavy on his tongue. Harry’s sweater provides some warmth and it still smells of him from before he left for his internship two weeks ago, but it’s nowhere near the feeling of his arms wrapped around him. Louis shivers despite the blankets.

✰ spirit meets the bones by @hadestyles​ | E | 3k - (i had to edit to add this because rori wrote another beautiful little fic for me :’) beautiful prose, beautiful emotions, so so so beautiful, gosh. pure poetry!)

The action shouldn’t fill his eyes with tears but it does. These small gestures mean the world to him. A steady reminder that Harry does notice all the tiny, seemingly insignificant details that make Louis him.

✰ 29 Blows by @quelquesetoiles | E | 4k - (super hot but also so cute!! love the concept of the birthday tradition in this one!!!)

For over a decade now, Harry has had his little tradition. It wouldn't be a Louis Tomlinson birthday without his best friend finding new, ingenious ways to make his life more difficult.

It's cute, it's funny, it's theirs, until Harry takes it a step too far on Louis' 29th birthday.

✰ calm me down (before i sleep) by @erodiansunflower | E | 7k - (a pwp and super hot, but also super cute??)

Prompt 24: Harry is a sex shop owner that has a crush on Louis, the shy customer who flirts with him while buying cute buttplugs, lace panties, and collars. One day, Louis asked Harry to help him put on a corset (they end up fucking in the dressing room). Things escalate quickly from there, so they start seeing each other seriously while trying other sex stuff.

✰ You’re Never Alone With a Moon This Bright by @helloamhere | T | 8k - (part one of this series) (WOW this was incredible and i am ENTRANCED! this author is an all-time favorite and idk why it took me so long to get to this series but i’m here now!! and loving it!!)

Louis was a monster. But sometimes, even monsters get a Christmas.

✰ Be a Good Girl For Me by @sincetheywere16and18 | E | 9k - (really hot and cute!!!)

Based on this prompt: “AU where Harry is Louis’ older brother’s best friend. He catches Louis dancing around his room in panties and blackmails him, saying that louis has to do anything he says or else he’ll tell Louis’ family that he wears girly underwear. Secretly soft for him, Harry gives him easy tasks and uses the whole thing to spend more time with Louis. Eventually, the orders begin to escalate and Harry teases Lou about his secret, making Louis shy and embarrassed. Louis loves the attention though, and forms a crush on his brother’s best friend. Lots of feminization, secret relationship, and enemies to lovers. Thank you!”

✰ it’s hard to fight naked by @loustarlight | E | 11k - (LOVED this so much!!! a big fan of enemies/flatmates to lovers especially when there’s a walk-in involved!!)

Louis leaves dirty socks on the couch, Zayn does assignments while he's high, and Harry is hopelessly crushing on his roommate.

✰ Sweet Scary Creatures by @specklelouis | M | 13k - (jurassic park au!! so cute and fun!!! loved louis’ character growth in this in particular!)

They stare into each other's eyes for a while until Louis remembers this is too intimate and looks at Harry’s hands on his thigh. It spans a big portion of his thigh and Louis has always been insecure about how thick he is, so he loves that Harry has huge, dustbin hands that hold him and makes him feel smaller, safer.

✰ hereafter (ad infinitum) by @larryent | M | 13k - (this was absolutely beautiful!! the writing was incredible, the contrast between the old timeline and new one impeccable, and the letters!!! love them!! and vampire harry is always a win!)

"A legacy is every life you’ve touched. And you’ve touched mine twice."

On the coast of San Francisco in 2024 is when Harry falls in love all over again.

✰ Believe Me When I Say You Have It All by @helloamhere | T | 20k - (part two of this series) (loved this even more than it’s predecessor. not to be dramatic, but i’d die for the louis and harry in this series. this whole world has my heart)

Harry had never faced anything in this forest that had actually succeeded in scaring him. Louis was no exception.

✰ Yours to Lose by @loulicate-recs | M | 26k - (so cute and soft and sweet!!! louis and harry were both angels and IAN <3 little cutie!!! so proud of you hanis!)

Louis always gets distracted with his mummy duty and he eventually catches Harry's attention.

✰ But It’s Useless by @thinlinez | E | 26k - (this put such a big smile on my face!! so cute and lovely!! louis was a relatable and adorable menace and harry was a smitten idiot but they both got there in the end!!)

Omega Louis would never guess that he would be trying to hack into Alpha Harry's Wifi. That is until everything changes when he tries to get to know his enemy.

✰ Stuck On You by Writewhatiwant | E | 34k - (so so sweet! loved the aspect of stickers in this fic and how louis found joy in them!! really loved how both louis and harry (especially harry) grew throughout this story and how they found peace at the end!)

Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.

✰ smoke between your teeth by @soldouthaz | E | 37k - (i think everyone knows how much i adore sarah and her fics but this one just might be a new favorite! loved all the psych stuff, the pining, the rom-com worthy confession <3 brilliant!)

Louis tries to stop his addiction to cigarettes and discovers he's been addicted to Harry for much, much longer.

✰ Your Life Worth Walking on a Bright Morning by @helloamhere | T | 38k - (part three of this series) (it just keeps getting better and better <3 so comforting and consistent and beautiful!)

For all its complexity, Louis sometimes reminded himself, life could always be simplified into a series of forks in the road. Even overwhelmingly big things were survivable when you broke them down to their choice. One path or the other, left or right.

✰ On The Edge by @zanniscaramouche | E | 47k - (so crazy good!! zanni is always amazing me!! loved the ice skating, the hockey, the misunderstandings, the multi-faced and beautiful characters and relationships - all so perfect!)

Figure skating is as vital to Louis’ identity as his DNA, so when his skates go missing right before the last Olympics of his career there may be a meltdown only vanilla bath salts can fix. Well, that and the stupidly charming hockey player he met on the plane.

Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes.

A baggage mix-up skews both of their perfectly laid plans for gold, forcing the two to work together as the clock clicks towards the minute they’re expected to shine on centre ice.

✰ made for lovin’ you by @cuddlerlouis | E | 53k - (loved this so much!! touch depri/accidental bonds are my favorite and this was no exception!!! the characterizations, the tension, the misunderstandings, the tenderness, the fluff!!! so good!)

A quick, horny decision ruins Louis’ summer plans, but may also lead to unexpected discoveries. Featuring the road trip of dreams, misunderstandings, and a bit of fate.

✰ social cues by @outropeace | E | 56k - (so fucking good!! the slow burn in this was impeccable!!! pair it with friends with benefits, mutual pining, angst, misunderstandings... amazing <3)

To Harry, Louis was becoming as tangible and essential as music in his life. He still was a mystery but at the same time, he was one of the most real things Harry had. He just hoped he could live up to the image Louis probably had in his mind of him.

He could play the part, after all, what was published of him wasn’t as detached from reality. He didn’t think of himself as a rockstar cliche, although he couldn't deny he did sleep around, partied a lot, and did some drugs. But then again, wasn’t that what the majority of his friends back in his hometown were doing at college?

Harry wanted to impress Louis, he didn’t want to disappoint or leave his expectations unfulfilled, so he’d give him the full rockstar experience.

It was a very simple plan, what could possibly go wrong?

✰ dripping like spider milk by @raspberryoatss | E | 64k - (pip amazing me with her talent? a common occurrence. this was so wonderfully written and so well done!! loved the characterizations, the dynamic, the angst, the miscommunication, the pining, the HUMOR!!! it was all so amazing!!)

When he sees the alpha, his brown hair curling around the top of his neck and his broad back that’s filled out over the past couple of years, Louis freezes for a moment. The alpha turns around, Louis’ surprised expression mirrored on his own for a fraction of a second before he schools it into a big, yet shy grin and a wave of his huge hand. With his nostrils flared, Louis knows that he can smell him, too.

They never hired alphas, except for—

“Harry.”

✰ a taste of freedom and sweetened passion by @tomlinvelvetfics | M | 74k - (okay technically haven’t finished reading this one yet but i want to get this up early and i already know this is amazing because it’s LATE and she’s incredible!!! and, i mean, anne of green gables?? abo?? best birthday gift ever!! will be spending the day reading this in bliss <3)

“Are you mad?” he explodes, throwing his hands up, groaning. “I was so, so close to reaching my goal, and your stupid, stalking ass had to creep up on me, hm?”

Harry is trying to keep his laughter in, walking closer to him, eyes soft. He doesn’t like the way those eyes make him feel, an odd, dangerous mix of nervous and flustered, so he bends down to pick up the books, raising an eyebrow when Harry growls in protest.

“I wanted to pick them up for you,” the alpha pouts, and Louis glares at him, getting into position and lowering the pile of yellowed pages over the top of his head.

“I’m a functional human being, thank you very much,” he grits out as he begins to walk and mentally count the amount of steps he takes. One, two, three, for heaven’s sake Harry fuck off!, four, five. He doesn’t let himself be distracted as the alpha walks along with him despite the slow pace, green eyes focused on him in a way that would, in any other cases, compelled him to throw a book in the alpha’s face.

He doesn’t know why he doesn’t do it and certainly doesn’t want to think about the reason, whatever it might be.

If you read any of these lovely fics, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

[stormfall1327]

It’s been AGES since I’ve written anything, and with all of the amazing fic lately from @viktorsvector and @eurodynesass, I thought I’d try and add my own smut piece to the fandom. Written on mobile at 1 am, so apologies if there’s a ton of typos or formatting weirdness. No real plot to speak of. Just good ol’ fashioned F!V/Viktor smut.

When V accidentally finds out that Vik likes it rough. Dirty talk, vaginal sex, biting, hair pulling.

Wild Fire

The atmosphere in Vik’s clinic was charged. The gentle hum of the various monitors and machinery was punctuated with sighs and breathy moans. The usual smell of antiseptic, chrome, and oil tinged with the heady aroma of sweat and arousal. Their little sparring match had ended with Vik pinning V to the wall at the back of his clinic, her legs wrapped around his waist as he ground the sizable bulge in his pants into her jeans. One arm was wrapped under her ass, the other braced against the wall as he nuzzled his face into her neck, stubble scraping the sensitive skin. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, V?” he murmured into her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. 

“Hmm? How -hard- you make me, watching you like that? Wild-eyed and practically fucking feral during a fight?” Another roll of his hips. “Watching the sweat drip down your body and wantin’ to chase it with my tongue?”

“Mmmm, fuck, Vik!” she ground out between clenched teeth, rolling her hips forward to feel more of that delicious pressure against her core. Her fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck and she gave an experimental tug. His entire chest rumbled against her as he let out a low groan. She pulled again, harder this time, and Vik’s hips bucked forward as he looked at her with fire in his eyes. “So, the doc likes it a little rough, does he?” she quipped with a smirk, using her legs to pull him closer. She leaned forward and kissed her way from his earlobe down his neck and when she found his pulse-point, she bit down - hard. Fuck, if the noise he made wasn’t the sexiest thing she’d ever heard in her life. The wet spot on her jeans grew noticeably larger as he cried out, hips stuttering and cock twitching against her. His knees almost buckled as she laved her tongue over the reddened skin, soothing the sting with that hot, wet muscle.

“Couch. Now.” Vik’s voice was rough in his throat as he readjusted his grip and carried her over to the worn leather couch. He practically tossed her down, eyes blazing and chest heaving, as he stared at her, palming his dick through his pants. V moaned appreciatively at the sight, grinding her own palm against her core to relieve some of the pressure. As much as V enjoyed being manhandled by Vik, though, she had other ideas in mind tonight. Shooting him a shit-eating grin, she leapt off the couch and lunged at him, catching him off guard as their lips crashed together. Almost losing his balance, she took the advantage to spin him around and pin him to the couch, her body pressed deliciously tight against him as she straddled his lap. Having the tables turned on him like that had Vik’s head swimming with desire. He’d always preferred being the dominant one in bed, but when it came to V pushing him around like that? Fuck, he’d almost come in his pants right there.

His hands went to her hips, fingertips digging in hard enough to leave bruises and V squirmed against him, plunging her tongue into his mouth as her hands went to the lapels of shirt. Bunching up the fabric in her fists, she yanked her hands apart, buttons skittering across the floor. “Hey! That’s my favorite...!” “Quit bitchin’, Vik. We have more pressing things to attend to, wouldn’t cha say?” as she ground down on his lap. Smirking, she reached down to tug his tank top up and over his head as he reached up to do the same for her. His thumbs circled her nipples, pebbled from the cool air, as she tugged his belt free and slid off his lap. He lifted his hips to help her slide his pants down, groaning as his cock sprang free, head red and weeping. V stepped out of her own pants and leaned down to swipe her tongue over his head, moaning as the slightly bitter taste of his precum met her tastebuds. Vik threw his head back, choking on a moan at the feeling of her hot mouth on him, hand instinctively tangling in her hair. Tossing him a saucy wink, V climbed back into his lap and carefully positioned herself over him. Without warning, she plunged herself down onto him, biting into the taut muscle of his shoulder and Vik’s vision whited out.

He yelled out, his whole body tensing as she set a brutal pace, her moans getting louder as she rode him. Her nails scraped against his chest and arms, leaving angry, red welts in their wake, muscles rippling beneath them. She nipped and bit at his neck, sucking purpling spots into his skin, never letting up her pace as she bounced in his lap. When his thumb found her clit, V yelped, burying her hands in his hair and tugging again. Vik was fighting a losing battle. He rubbed furiously at her clit, leaning forward to pull one of her nipples into his mouth. He bit down and V screamed, her sudden orgasm tearing through her like wild fire as she convulsed in his arms, her cunt spasming against his cock. He rocked his hips forward and cried out, coming deep inside her as he wrapped his arms around her body and pressed his face into her sternum.

His heart was still thundering in his chest as V slipped off his lap to snuggle into his side. They sat like that for a while as their breathing slowed, V’s fingers idly tracing patterns onto his belly. “So... about my shirt?”

[god-of-dust]

i recently remembered that my fic Liminality was actually part of a bigger story; it’s old and don’t think i will ever complete it, but since @thetpot left me a lovely comment i thought that i could share some of the parts i had written, as a treat.

the story is set in the post-canon world. aang is in his twenties, dealing with grief, ptsd and depression and his avatar responsibilities. on top of that, he realizes that he’s fallen in love with zuko and this causes him to break up with katara; a lot of angst and self-hatred follow, because he feels like he’s breaking the heart of the woman he loves and betraying his best friend too.

so, here are some snippets! note: they’re unedited and also not in chronological order.

[Aang speaks with Avatar Yangchen in the spirit world]

“Avatar Yangchen?”

“Hello, Aang. It seems I'm the one you turned to in your moment of need, this time.”

“Why, though? I didn't think about you, I just... needed someone to talk to, I guess. Someone who has nothing to do with all this.”

“You don't want to have this conversation with any of your friends.”

“They're too close to Katara and I don't want to force them to pick sides.”

“And Fire Lord Zuko is, of course, out of the question.”

“If I saw him now, I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth shut and I'd spill my guts and it would be embarrassing for both and that would only make things even worse... he doesn't deserve this. I'm the one who messed up.”

“Why do you think you messed up?”

“Why? I fell in love with my best friend! I hurt Katara and I'll hurt Zuko too if I don't learn to keep my feelings hidden! I should have hidden them better from the start!”

“Is this what would make you happy? Learning how to hide your feelings, having no one the wiser?”

“I wanted to marry Katara and make her happy for the rest of our lives, and now I ruined our relationship because I just had to be like this! My life couldn't be simple, oh no, I couldn't just be with her, I had to want more—of course I hurt her!”

“I see now the reason you chose me instead of Avatar Roku or Avatar Kyoshi, whether you were aware of it or not. You're missing something crucial... something that not even they would see.”

“What is it?”

“You're an Air Nomad, Aang.”

Aang waited. Since no explanation came, he spoke. “Well, yeah, that's kind of hard to miss.” He gestured at himself, “orange robes, bald head, tattoos—you know, the whole package. I don't see how it should change things, though.”

“You know that, but you forgot what it means. The love you carry in your heart is the truest expression of our heritage. You can't love like Katara does, because you were raised in the Air Temples and your heart knows no boundaries or shame. Most people would consider things like distance, social status, race or gender, but you never put meaning in such limitations. That's the way of Air Nomads, Aang, our way.”

“But Katara loves me too, who cares if she's not an Air Nomad!”

“While her love for you runs deep and fierce, she has a different understanding of what it means. Sometimes, as you experienced, this can cause conflict. Katara expected you to have romantic feelings for her and her only. You certainly love her and did your best to grant her wish in full, but by doing this you failed to see that chain for what it was and how it would hurt you both.”

“This sounds an awful lot like 'you're destined to hurt everyone and you better not try to have a relationship ever again'.”

“I'd say it's more like 'you seem to be naturally inclined to love more than one person in a romantic sense and your culture never repressed this attitude like others would have'.”

“Am I really not capable to feel romantic love for only one person? I think I can learn. I learned a lot of difficult things that opposed my Air Nomad nature, so why not this one? I want to be with Katara. I miss her so much...”

“But you also want to be with Zuko, don't you?”

“I... I can't be with him. That wouldn't be fair.”

“Why not?”

“I don't want to push my feelings on him. I never asked for this and he certainly didn't either!”

“It seems our conversation has come full circle. You insist that Zuko will reject your feelings, that they will cause him distress and pain, but that's an assumption on your part—quite the heavy one, at that. Do you trust your best friend so little?”

“Of course I trust Zuko, I trust him with my life! It's myself I don't trust, and I don't want to jeopardize our friendship!”

“And yet, you treat him like a fragile glass sculpture. The bond you share has weathered way worse than a love confession gone wrong. Zuko himself has weathered worse.”

[Zuko’s pov, reflecting on something that had happened with Aang. i don’t remember if i had a plan for it, but it’s possible that it was actually the Papaya Incident from another fic of mine, He gives me the holiday I needed all the time]

Pebbles lay scattered on the sand, round and shiny from the waves. He picked one up and rolled it between his fingers; it was black, a solid weight, and smooth to the touch when he ran his thumbs over it.

His mind wandered, lulled by the sound of the wind and the sea.

Things with Aang were going well. After the initial period of embarassment on both parts, they'd eventually reached a new stability and stopped obsessing over every little thing they did and said. The hot springs accident had helped a lot and Aang's sun-kissed nature had done the rest; Zuko'd let himself be led, knowing that his friend was the most vulnerable, not to mention the one he trusted to make the right decisions—way more than he trusted himself.

He remembered what the old ladies had told him years before about the Island. Without consciously realizing it before, those words were the reason why Zuko was there—sitting on the beach by himself, holding a rock and waiting for the magic to happen.

A tingling in the back of his head reminded that he didn't know what the water would bring ashore this time. There were still so many sharp angles in him for the sea to smooth over, so many questions that may or may not be best left unanswered.

Nonetheless, he stayed. He'd always been too stubborn for his own good.

He threw the pebble over the water and watched it skirt on the surface. One, two, three, then down with a small plop.

Things with Aang were going well, and yet Zuko was antsy. He'd adapted and was comfortable in their situation, but something had irremediably shifted the night before. Something that was probably brewing slow and deep since Aang's confession.

They weren't kids anymore. It used to be a nostalgic thought for Zuko; it reminded him of how many years had passed already, of the responsibilities on their shoulders. The difference in their ages didn't feel like a chasm anymore, especially since their roles put them on equal ground; they'd matured, losing a big chunk of the recklessness of youth. Zuko'd learned to hold his temper (most of the times) and Aang'd learned to be serious and diplomatic (when needed).

Now, though, their adulthood also held a different kind of weight and Zuko was running out of excuses not to notice.

The arch of Aang's impish grin, the vibrations of his laughter, the scratch of his beard on Zuko's cheek as he hugged him... they pulled at strings that any other friend couldn't reach. Aang had always been special. This was another layer of Zuko's defenses slowly being peeled away, another way in which Aang was turning his life upside down to make him discover new paths and new meaning.

Zuko had never been attracted to a man before, which meant that of course Aang had to be the exception.

There, he'd admitted it, in the privacy of his own head, with the burning circle of the setting sun as a witness. He was attracted to Aang. He was charismatic and funny and handsome and fuck if Zuko hadn't wanted to kiss him the day before.

[more flirting]

“I never noticed that the tattoos on your arms are separated from the one on the back... and I guess the ones on the legs are separate too,” Zuko pondered, lazily following the blue line that traced Aang's spine and disappeared under yellow fabric to reappear again on both of his thighs.

“You've seen me half naked a million times and you're noticing it now?” Aang asked, all cheek and impishness.

“Well, yes, I wasn't really looking though.”

“You weren't, but now you are?” Aang's smirk turned almost lecherous as he wiggled his eyebrows in the most theatrical flirting in history. “I'm flattered, darling, but if you want me to take my clothes off to, ah, 'see the tattoo' you have to wine and dine me first.”

“...you just said I've already seen you half naked and I certainly didn't wine and dine you first.”

“Ah, but that was different—now you're looking!”

“What if I was only pretending not to look?”

“Then you already owe me the wine and dining, even though proper behaviour would have been asking me out before the ogling. I'd say I expected better from the Fire Lord of all people, but I understand the irresistible appeal of my toned, hot body.” He stroke some poses to show off his muscles and Zuko busied himself with a thorough examinations of his own fingernails. It was nothing he hadn't already seen anyway, no need to stare while his friend acted like a dork and interpreted what seemed airbending forms with abandon, since he already knew how Aang looked, thank you very much.

Which is why he was completely unprepared for the sulking, cross-armed Airbender hovering so close that he could taste his body heat.

“Stop ignoring me! Rude!” Aang lamented as a truly wounded man.

It should have been exhausting to deal with all that unbridled shifting energy contained in a single person, the constant pull that kept Zuko's attention inside the vortex that was Aang... and yet, it wasn't, because Zuko wasn't alone in this. Since that day a lifetime ago under the fiery eyes of Dragons, they'd never stopped dancing—they danced and pulled at each other's strings, dug in deep darkness and broke down walls to let the light in.

No force on the Earth could have stopped the blush rising to Zuko's cheeks as the split-second realization brushed his thoughts and exploded with bursting colors.

Spirits, he loved Aang.

Of course, this wasn't exactly new. However, it was the flavor of it, the quality of the burn, hot and vibrating and fierce, the senses amplified by the proximity of the wonderful man before him.

[Aang is acting strangely (bc of depression and all the rest) and the gaang notices]

Toph's inquisitive eyes didn't bear anything good for Aang. Her abilities always allowed her to slip into people's spaces, more often than not in a way that let her obtain blackmail material galore; his heartbeat quickened and he cursed himself because that was just what he needed, another incriminating piece of evidence in her probably already long list... for whatever his crime was.

Katara, Sokka and Suki stared at both of them, unsure of the meaning of their silent conversation.

Aang silently begged for some of his enemies to sweep through the windows and try to kill him. He would take them on all together if needed, as long as he could avoid hearing the next words out of the earthbender's mouth. Could he take a quick trip to the Spirit World? It seemed a nice option, to leave his unconscious body and his friends entirely behind.

Then, Toph opened her mouth.

“Out, Twinkletoes.”

She stomped a foot and raised her arms. Aang was catapulted out of the door, quickly and brutally, before he could realize that she was, in fact, being considerate and granting them privacy. Small mercies, indeed.

“Don't think I don't know that you know I know,” she announced as he pulled his arm until they entered the adjacent room. The ominous echo of the door closing made Aang discover that, mildly considerate Toph or not, in no way did he want to have this conversation.

“So, what's with you and Flame Boy there? Did he ask you to kill him again?”

Subtle as a ostrich horse mating call... or a boulder to the face.

“He didn't do anything, Toph,” Aang answered, trying to cover the giant tangle of mess in his chest with exasperation.

Toph, of course, wasn't fooled. “Makes sense, since he was acting normal—well, normal for his overdramatic royal ass.” She put her hands on her hips, legs apart in her best rooted stance. “So you're the one with the problem, and I bet he doesn't even know.”

“Please. I don't feel like talking about this.” The tiniest crack in his voice, as the surface of an iced lake that could break and swallow him up for a single misstep. His hand found his prayer beads and caressed them.

“Spill,” Toph ordered.

“I said no!” Aang shouted, “leave me alone!”

“While it's nice to meet your backbone again, I'm not going anywhere. Spill.”

Aang's blood was boiling. A distant part of him wondered if he was actually firebending from every pore of his body, like a human torch of anger. She taught him to stand his ground, didn't she? He was going to show her how good of a student he was. He didn't own her any explanation for anything. “Why do you have to be like this? It's always a game to you, poking and prodding at things that are not yours to know! Can't you see that I'm already miserable enough as it is?”

“I can see it quite well and I'm blind, Aang—that's exactly why I'm doing this! You've been moping anxiously and hiding it from everyone for months. I'm sick of your shit, you're obviously not managing to fix whatever the problem is, and you're going to tell me what's wrong right now!”

“Moping anxiously?” He laughed, an ugly sound, like scratching the bottom of a barrel. “So if I don't act all light-and-laughter every single moment of my life, you get 'sick of my shit'? How about you let me live and have emotions like a normal human being?”

“I would have bashed any other human being's head in for being so infuriating. You're lucky I'm trying to help you, though you don't seem to give a shit!”

The echoing silence constricted his chest. His temples pulsed. His eyes burned. They weren't getting anywhere, it was exhausting, he just wanted it to end.

“It's not just Zuko, isn't it?” Toph said too softly, after a too long pause. That gentleness didn't belong on her voice and Aang hated it.

“This isn't any of your business. I'm leaving,” Aang spat out.

He turned, ripped the door open and disappeared into the corridor; Toph didn't feel his footsteps—he'd probably airbended his way out of the building.

She shook his head, wide eyes staring into nothingness. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Twinkletoes?”

[follow-up to the previous scene]

“So, I may have royally fucked up,” Toph announced, spreading her arms in a dramatic fashion.

“What did you do to him?” Katara asked sharply. Toph registered her body humming with pent up energy, coiled and ready to snap.

“Yeah, what did you do? I haven't heard Aang raising his voice in years. You must have delivered some serious ass kicking,” Sokka added. At least it seemed like he wasn't sharpening his sword—not yet.

“I asked him what the hell's wrong and he blew up on me.”

Katara's eyebrows furrowed and she slowly asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Toph enunciated, “that he's acting weird. Weird as in he's got issues and he doesn't want to acknowledge them and he's shutting us out because he thinks that pretending to be fine is serving some sort of purpose when obviously it doesn't.”

Katara wasn't a ball of menacing vibrations anymore. In fact, she was unnaturally still—hesitating. “What do you mean, 'issues'?”

“Does he seem okay to you? Don't tell me you, of all people, haven't noticed! His responses are off, he speaks like he's reading from a script, he pulls out his magic avoidance tricks whenever we try to have any sort of meaningful interaction with him!”

“Of course I noticed,” Katara sighed. “I've been worried—really worried—since Bumi's funeral. I know that everyone mourns differently, but... he buried his friend and the next day he was already busy with some ambassador duty for the Northern Water Tribe. When I offered him support, he smiled and changed the subject. I thought that maybe Air Nomads have a different understanding of death, that this detachment is part of his culture. I should have trusted my intuition from the start instead of letting him sweep everything under the rug.”

[Aang and Katara break up]

“It's Zuko, isn't it.”

Aang squeezed his eyes shut. There was no hiding this. “Yes.”

“You clearly love him—it's so obvious now that I let myself see it.”

“Katara... I'm so sorry.”

“Please, don't. This is... I don't know what to say. Just—go to him, be happy together, whatever you need to do. Just go, Aang. I can't do this.”

He couldn't do this either. To see Katara, his strong, fierce Katara, with trembling lips and wet eyes was torture.

“I'm sorry,” he repeated, “I'm so sorry.”

He broke her heart. He loved her. He hurt her.

So he did what he always did: he ran away.

[Aang’s confession, first version]

“Aang, why didn't you tell me?”

“Tell you?” Aang questioned.

“About you and Katara,” Zuko answered. “I mean, you don't have to tell me, but apparently everyone else knew and I was the only one left out of the loop. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Zuko. It's just...” Aang gestured weakly, like he was trying to conjure the right words from thin air.

Zuko waited for Aang to elaborate. It didn't happen. They kept feeding the turtleducks in silence, Zuko sitting cross-legged with his back propped on the tree and Aang with his pants rolled up and his feet in the water.

“Aang, I didn't want to pry or make you uncomfortable. It's your business—and Katara's, I guess... anyway, not mine. So, uh... sorry.” He scratched the back of his neck, self-consciously.

Silence, again, thick and full of undecipherable things.

When their eyes met, hundreds of lives dwelled behind Aang's gaze, heavy with unspeakable burdens. The eyes of the Avatar, reflections of a long, unbroken line of heroes and protectors. They had lived, they had seen.

Too much for Zuko, whose chest tightened in the struggle to catch his breath. What was happening? This Aang was so vulnerable, so... raw. Rarely had he seen his friend so close to unraveling.

“You don't have to apologize. You're right, I didn't tell you, but it wasn't because of something you did—it's because you're you, and I couldn't deal with it.”

“I'm... me? What is that supposed to mean?”

“I love you,” Aang said. “That's why Katara broke up with me, why I couldn't tell you. I love you and it's a mess.”

Aang's words might as well had been shouted, for how they left Zuko stranded and grasping at something, anything that was supposed to make sense of what he'd just heard. Because surely there was an explanation. Aang loved Katara to death and beyond. This was some kind of elaborate joke that Zuko hadn't caught up on.

“Come on, what really happened?”

Walls shut off any reaction from the Air Nomad. He was in business mode—imperturbable, collected, the perfect picture of the perfect hero; his smile was so fake it gave Zuko the creeps as he said: “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have burdened you with this. I'm leaving.”

This wasn't supposed to happen. It was happening all the same, though, and this was the crossroad where years of friendship could slip like water through Zuko's fingers if he didn't do something to stop it.

He was still petrified.

His hand moved and grabbed Aang's wrist and made him turn. They were face to face, touching yet almost unreachable. Almost.

“Don't go. I don't want you to—” leave me.

No flicker of acknowledgment from under Aang's façade of rocks and hollowness, though he'd stopped in his tracks and now stood there, staring, with Zuko still holding his wrist.

“I don't know what to say. This is... unexpected and I will probably need time to digest it, but please, don't go like this. We can talk.”

“I betrayed you.”

“What are you talking about?”

The façade was starting to fall apart.

“We were friends and I fell for you. You trusted me and I had to ruin everything with this. I'm sorry.”

What the hell? “Okay, you know what? Now I'm getting pissed,” Zuko growled. “You didn't ruin anything! Stop this fucking ridiculous guilt-trip right now!”

“This isn't a ridiculous guilt-trip!” Aang yelled, and there it was, the fire that burned down the walls.

“I'm shocked to discover that my best friend's in love with me since I had no fucking clue before this conversation, but guess what? It's not the end of the fucking world! You should know better, since you saved it once already!”

“How can you be okay with this?! It's creepy and it's wrong!”

“Do you want me to hate you? Because it seems like that's what you're waiting for, and you refuse to accept that I don't hate you at all!”

[Aang’s confession, second version]

“Why didn't you tell me that you and Katara broke up? I had to hear it fom Suki, of all people!”

“Oh. That. I, uh... kind of didn't want to tell you.”

“So it was on purpose! And you're evading my question.”

“It's... um. Complicated?”

“Did you cheat on her with Mai? I might have to challenge you to an Agni Kai for that.”

Aang choked on air, which made Zuko's eyebrows rise. “Please don't tell me you did it for real.”

“I didn't cheat on Katara, and especially not with Mai.”

“Thank Spirits. I wouldn't be able to win in a duel against you. So, what happened? Suki said she didn't know and she seemed sincere.”

“No one else knows, just me and Katara.”

“Is it a secret? I won't pry if it is.” He was so very curious, though—it was clear as the water from the pond in front of them.

“Definitely something that I wouldn't want people to know, yeah,” Aang said. He fidgeted, playing with his necklace and stroking its wooden shapes. “But you probably should.”

“I should?” The conversation was becoming weirder by the minute. “Well, tell me then.”

Zuko turned to face his friend and—was Aang blushing? The back of Zuko's neck prickled, a familiar yet undecipherable sensation. What was going on?

“Look, Zuko, I... uh...” Aang stuttered. He covered one of his eyes with a hand and took a deep, steadying breath, then muttered: “Ugh, it's like pulling teeth. Worse than learning Earthbending.”

Lacking a decent answer to that, Zuko waited for Aang to catch his thoughts, whatever they were.

Aang tried again. “You know we're friends, right?”

“Yeah,” Zuko replied, hesitant.

“I'm in love with you.”

“...what?”

The can of worms had been opened and Zuko could only listen and stare, mouth agape, as the Air Nomad barreled on. “One day I realized that what I felt for you was different than friendship and—I'd always chalked that up to you being you, you know? You've always been special to me, but it's such a tender feeling and it scared me a little, and when I talked about it to Katara she got mad and cried and broke up with me. So, uh, that's what happened.”

Turtleducks paddled happily on the water, the mother guiding her little offspring in swaying curves to peck at the breadcrumbs the two men had thrown for them. There was so much green in the garden, so much peace and sweet birdsongs. Time had no weight nor shape here.

It was Zuko's turn to be utterly uneloquent.

“That's... not what I was expecting. At all.” A memory suddenly surfaced and his face coloured. “Wait, so that time at the hot springs—you did it on purpose?”

“What? Spirits, Zuko, no!”

“Well, what should I think? You come here and you tell me that you're in love with me since who knows how long, I'm sort of freaking out right now!”

“Nothing changed! If you didn't realize before I told you, why are you so worried?”

“I—it's weird, okay?” Zuko bellowed. “And you can't say nothing changed, you've been in love with Katara for so long, and now you're not, and you love me!”

“But I do love Katara.”

“What? How?”

“What do you mean, 'how'?”

“Well, it's either one or the other, no? You must have a... preference or something for her or me.” He paused. “I can't believe I'm having this conversation.”

The sky was immensely blue, the perfect day for a ride on Appa, and Aang, too, couldn't believe he was having this conversation—but, surreal as it was, it was also necessary. Zuko was proving the point Avatar Yang Chen had made to Aang years before: Air Nomads had a particular outlook on life and love that clashed with the other cultures'.

So, it was the moment where Aang had to explain love to his (other) beloved all over again.

“I don't have a 'preference', I really love you both... there's no way to compare because you're not Katara and Katara isn't you, and in any case I don't care because you're both fundamental, irreplaceable elements in my life. I'm not expecting you to love me back, but it's very important to me to be your friend.” He touched Zuko's arm softly, a question for reassurance, and his voice was clear but low. “Can we be friends? You know—after this?”

The stutter followed by a lack of words, Zuko's averted eyes... they fed the pit in Aang's stomach, a slime-covered, abyss-dwelling monster, but he couldn't—wouldn't—force his hand. This was it, yet another crucial moment in their lives that made them or broke them.

“Your friendship has survived worse,” Avatar Yang Chen had said, so Aang closed his eyes and waited for the monster to strike or leave. I've survived worse, too. I'll be okay.

When Zuko got up and started pacing, Aang decided that focusing his own attention on something else was the best way to leave him space. It's a good sign that he didn't punch me in the face, right? He wouldn't still be here and pacing if he hated me. That doesn't sound like Zuko, he's way too impulsive to not explode in a situation like this. He's probably confused, and stuff. Yes.

He let his eyes wander, a bit more hopeful. Focusing on something else... like the turtleducks, who looked inviting indeed, all tiny and fluffed up and cute.

He took a piece of bread from the satchel and spread the crumbs in the grass in front of him with all the art he could muster; satisfied, he watched and waited. C'mon, there's food here! Delicious bread, just for you! Momo would have been on the loaf way before it was pulled out from the bag. They barely deigned him and his prize a glance. Rude! But he still wanted to pet them, because they were adorable. Making sounds to attract them would interrupt Zuko's brooding.

What to do?

Perhaps they wouldn't shy away if he got closer.

A man on a mission, Aang creeped towards the edge of the pond, slow and silent like the trained monk he was. One of his targets seemed to notice him and tilted its head curiously. Hello, little one. By some miracle, it started to head in Aang's direction.

[Bumi’s funeral]

It was more of a drizzle than rain, really. Tiny, steady droplets of water pelted softly Aang's smooth head and bare arms. The sky was partecipating in their mourning like the kind old friend that it was.

Omashu's mail service wasn't operative; a gentle stream slid down the railing instead. Bumi would have loved to slide on the now wet road—he probably did it every time the occasion arose, Aang mused.

Except now Bumi rested, too still, in an elaborately carved yet solid wooden box and wouldn't go sliding in the mail system ever again.

The King of Omashu was dead.

Bumi was dead, and with him the last person who'd survived from Aang's life before the iceberg. Now he was with the others, and they weren't gone... but they weren't with Aang either. They were spirits now. No one, not a single one would walk on Earth anymore—they would play in the crowded, sunny courtyard in the Air Nomad's memories, to be remembered and cherished with smiling faces and bright hearts.

[Aang and Aunt Wu aka the fortuneteller]

“First Katara, then Guru Pathik, then you! Why is everyone like this? Why can't anyone just give me a straight answer for once, instead of acting like my life is a series of riddles to solve? This 'fated Avatar' thing's gotten old and I'm tired of it!” He can barely breathe, his own element betraying him, and his voice cracks as the wood of a funeral pyre as he goes on. “Is this what I saved the world for? Giving everyone else a future where they belong, by sacrificing mine?”

“An interesting question, Avatar.”

“MY NAME IS AANG!” he yells, desperate, selfish as the day he was born, when all he cared for was survival; he feels stripped as raw and defenseless as then, tender skin in a world too bright and big, unable to carry himself through it and crying his heart out to fill his lungs with life.

He grits his teeth, suffocating the instinct to spill more useless words that he won't be able to take back.

[bloodbending222]

goodbyes

✰ fandom: The Legend of Korra

✰ pairings: Bolin x reader

✰ word count: 1k 

✰ warning(s): none, just some angsty/comforting stuff :o)

✰ author’s note: this is a lil bb one cuz its my first “x reader” fic that i’ve written in literal years lol pls be nice (though feedback is appreciated always!) ♡

Please read my rules!!

You knew that this was coming. 

Bolin was leaving again. 

You understood that he had an obligation to help Korra see out her duties as the Avatar.  You loved how loyal he was to the people in his life, how much he loved helping those he cared about.  You saw how hard of a worker Bolin was, from watching the Fire Ferrets climb up the ranks in competitions, to listening to him tell you how good it felt to help the new airbenders grow comfortable with their abilities.  You were proud of him. 

You had said goodbye so many times. It meant the world to you every time he asked you to come see him off on these journeys, and you knew he was going to come back eventually. He always did. 

But in that moment, standing with him in front of the Future Industries airship, you felt...different.  

“I’ll write you, okay?” He told you as he pulled you into a hug.  His hugs were your favorite.  He’d always wrap his arms around your torso, and you swore you could feel him trying to pull you closer even when there was no room left between the two of you. And you didn’t mind it when he’d hold onto you a little longer than normal friends would.  “You don’t wanna know what I’d do if you ignored my letters!” 

You laughed despite the pit forming in your stomach, “What are you gonna do, fly all the way back just to guilt trip me?” 

As he chuckled at your response, you recalled the moments that you spent together when he’d return from these trips.  He would call you up to let you know he was coming to your apartment, and your heart would flutter.  It would feel like a century before he knocked on your door, even though you’d spend the whole time tidying up and making sure you looked presentable when he arrived.  When he arrived, you’d catch yourself smiling ear-to-ear with excitement. You were always so happy relieved, even-- to see him again. You had to stop yourself from practically jumping into his arms and kissing him when you opened the door to greet him.  

But, you were just friends.  Nothing more, nothing less, right? 

Bolin reached for his duffel bag and threw it over his shoulder.  Pabu poked his head out of the half-opened zipper and climbed up Bolin’s arm, chittering as you scratched under his chin. 

“I’ll miss you, Pabu.  Take good care of your dad for me,” You said as a somber smile found your lips.  

Bolin noticed the tone in your voice and looked into your eyes with a questioning, playful glare, “[Y/n], you’re acting like I’m leaving you for good! I promise, I’ll let you know as soon as I’m on my way back to the city and we can have one of our mover nights, just like always.”  He smiled confidently at you. The way he said your name almost made you crumble. 

You exhaled despite your growing anxiety, rubbing your neck, “I know, I just...I’m really gonna miss you this time.” 

“I’ll miss you, too, [Y/n].” Bolin said with a smile, his gaze softening as he continued to look at you. 

Your ears grew hot. The last time he looked at you like that was a couple of nights ago.  You were sitting on his couch, the both of you a couple of cactus juice cocktails deep.  You were babbling excitedly about how much you loved the mover you were watching, but you felt like Bolin wasn’t particularly listening to what you were saying.  When you glanced over at him, he was just...staring at you, smiling.  You wanted so badly to lean over and kiss him right then, but you stopped yourself.  You were so afraid of scaring him off, petrified of losing the relationship you already had with him.  You knew how much emotional turmoil his breakups with Eska and Opal put him through, and the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel like you were taking advantage of your friendship.

Despite everything, you knew that you were in love with this man from the moment you met him. That was what made this so hard. 

“Bolin! Let’s go!” The sound of Mako’s voice calling from the airship’s window broke you out of your trance. Bolin exhaled and placed a heavy hand on your shoulder. 

You loved how physically affectionate he was with you.  You loved how vulnerable he made you feel. 

“Behave yourself out there, [Y/n],” he winked at you before turning and heading to the airship’s entrance, “No promises from me, though!” 

Your smile faded as you watched him walk away from you, placing your hand on the empty space that he left on your shoulder.  The growing pain in your chest grew rapidly, and you suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe.  Your body began to shake as Bolin’s figure became smaller with each step he took.  

Don’t leave.  Please. 

“Bolin...wait…”

You frantically tried to catch your breath, desperately hoping that something around you would indicate that this was all just a bad dream.  Why were you so scared of losing him now? Wouldn’t you have felt this way before? 

A lump formed in your throat as your bottom lip quivered. You couldn’t hold back your feelings any longer. You took a few steps forward.

“Wait!”

It was now or never.

He turned around at the sound of your voice, and as soon as you saw those green eyes of his meet yours once more, you were on autopilot.  You ran toward him, and he opened his arms for you as you crashed into him.  Bolin got knocked back a couple of steps, but regained his balance as he squeezed your frame closer to him.  You melted into his embrace and sobbed into his chest.  

“Hey, hey,” he said in that soft, comforting voice that you loved so much, “It’s gonna be okay.  I’ll be back before you know it. And when I get back, we can go to Narook’s like we always do, and--”

“I’m in love with you.” 

Bolin blinked, visibly caught off guard.  You delivered your words with a sternness that he’d only heard you use occasionally.  You looked up at him and took a deep breath and continued. 

“Bolin, I’ve always loved you.  I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but,” you loosened your grip on him, your face caked with tears, “I just couldn’t let you leave again without telling you that.” 

Your heart was racing. You watched Bolin’s face as he stared at you.  

This is it, you thought to yourself, I fucked up.  I’m never going to see him again and it’s all my fault.  I ruined it, he--

Before you could finish your thought, you felt his left arm wrap tighter around your waist as the opposite held your wet face. Bolin pressed his lips against yours and kissed you.  It was just as beautiful as you had imagined it. You sank into him, feeling your anxiety slowly fade into relief.  

“I love you, too.”

[everamazingfe]

The Kumbaya Approach

Fic Summary: Trevor is the captain of his own ship and is in need of a new pilot when his old one abandons the crew. Fortunately, his trusty engineer Gavin knows of a good one. Unfortunately, the cargo he brings along with him is a little more dangerous than they anticipated. 

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Words: 15113 Pairings: Michael/Jeremy, Trevor/Alfredo Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence and blood

Notes: This was written for the Secret Springfairy fic exchange in the @rtwritingcommunity discord for @doolray! This was a ton of fun to write, I hope you enjoy, and big thanks to @fornhaus for proofreading/editing! Check the source for a link to read it on A 0 3!

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“What do you mean you quit?” 

“I mean I quit. I’m done with this bucket of bolts. Every day there’s a new problem, a new critical failure, a new busted part, and I’m sick of it! What kind of commander can’t get a handle on his own ship?”

“Hey! Those problems aren’t my fault, it’s the-”

“-The ship’s AI, right. Heard that one a thousand times. But they’re part of the crew, too. Which means they’re your responsibility. And if you can’t keep them under control and keep your ship in shape, I’m out of here at the next port.” 

The arguments had gone on like this for several days, nearly a week now, and it was the same thing every time. Jeremy would yell about how he was sick of being on the ship and lay down blame for its problems, and Trevor would defend himself against the barrage of insults instead of trying to change the other’s mind. He knew that was a futile effort, and he knew better than to fight losing battles.

The pair were silent for a long time, staring each other down. Jeremy was looking for a reason to get more wound up, to start yelling all over again. Telling off his commander for mistakes that everyone had seemingly let slide for far too long felt really good, and he wanted to keep going. Meanwhile, Trevor was calming down and calculating his next move very carefully. It was fine if his crew wanted to question his authority, they did it plenty and he never took it personally. But as far as he was concerned, Jeremy was no longer crew and no longer privy to that same mercy. After all, he’d quit.

“Fine. You can empty your quarters out and sleep in the observation deck, then. You’re no longer a member of this crew, so you no longer get to stay in crew cabins,” he stated after a few long moments, his tone cold. 

Jeremy blinked in surprise, not expecting Trevor to actually do anything about it. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me. You don’t get a room anymore, those are reserved for the crew. If you’re unhappy with that arrangement, I can tell Lindsay to get the airlock open for you.” 

“You know... If I leave, Michael’s gonna go with me. He goes where I go,” he reminded, though he was no longer yelling confidently. He was stumbling and faltering. Trevor had called his bluff effectively, and it was hard to keep up steam. 

“Then you can help each other clean out your quarters and keep each other warm on the deck,” he responded, shrugging casually. “Finding a new science officer will be just as easy as finding a new pilot.”

“And just how do you expect to get to the next port safely?”

Trevor chuckled softly, smiling. “Lindsay is more than equipped with satisfactory navigational skills, isn’t that right Linds?”

The comms system beeped to life, and a cheerful voice was heard over the speakers. “That’s right, Commander! Jack’s charting us a course as we speak. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

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

There was some truth to Lindsay’s words. They were equipped with the best-in-the-market autopilot functionality, but Jack was not charting a course. The entirety of the crew was gathered around a large monitor in the communications bay, watching the whole ordeal unfold through Lindsay’s eyes. There were bets on how it would end. Most of the money was on it ending in blows at this point. 

“Like hell I’m going with him!” Michael shouted, waving his hands and scoffing in disbelief as he looked at the screen. “I’m not idiot enough to throw away a good job when I’ve got it. I mean, sure the place is a shithole, no offense Linds-” 

“None taken.”

“-But like… It’s not like we have to do anything. If I try and find another crew, they may make me do actual work! Can you imagine? I am not going anywhere.”

“I don’t think he’s going to give you a choice,” Jack said from beside him, the others all nodding in agreement. “I think you’re gonna have to go with him.” 

Michael huffed, rolling his eyes and turning up the volume on the terminal. “If there’s one thing you fuckers should’ve learned about me right now, it’s this: I don’t have to do shit. Especially not for my boyfriend.” 

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

Jeremy grumbled to himself as he packed up his things. Michael was, of course, no help. He just stood in the doorway and spectated, making snide remarks when he saw fit. 

“You know, I’d really appreciate it if you could be on my side with this,” Jeremy said, balling up a shirt and throwing it at him. “Or at the very least, help me pack.”

Michael laughed, knocking away the shirt before it hit him in the face. “Fuck no, you dug this hole yourself. I’m not the moron who quit.”

“This place is a shithole and you know it.”

“Yeah, but you never have to fix any of it! You just have to sit there in your comfy pilot chair and wait for Gavin to do it.” Had Michael always been a little jealous of his boyfriend’s job? A little bit. The med bay was cold and unwelcoming, but the cockpit was cushy and warm. Plus, with Lindsay on board, the pilot didn’t really have to do much at all unless their systems went down. Which, to be fair, did happen a lot. “You pilots are always so snooty. You knew what you were getting into when you took this gig, you can’t expect it to be like the Ritz now.”

“Just fucking go,” Jeremy muttered, swiping up the last of his clothes from the floor. “Don’t even bother visiting, either.” The comment hurt them both, but that didn’t make him mean it any less. He didn’t want Michael to visit, he wanted him to stay at the port with him. 

The other just laughed heartily and shook his head, turning on his heel to leave. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

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

The observation deck was, as it always was, cold and lonely. The warm blankets and fluffy pillows that were on his bed were technically part of the quarters he had previously taken residence in, so all Jeremy had to sleep on was the metal floor, cushioned by his clothing and a few other soft belongings. The things that he owned that were unfit for laying on were stacked around him. The observation deck’s window was huge, and as he laid there unable to sleep, the vastness of space no longer brought him the same comfort it had when he was in the pilot’s seat. 

“Hey, Lindsay?”

The comms beeped to life once more. “Yes, Jeremy?”

“Am I making a mistake?” He asked, sitting up and leaning back against the stack. 

There were a few long seconds of contemplative silence before they spoke again. “Yeah, you are. A huge one, I’d say.”

“That’s not really comforting... I don’t suppose Trevor would be willing to… Reconsider?”

“No, I don’t think so. You insulted the ship. The commander takes that personally.” Lindsay did too, but they figured that Jeremy already felt guilty enough without them piling on as well. 

“C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it.” 

“Do I, though? Because I really don’t think I do,” they stated. Maybe Jeremy didn’t feel as guilty as they had hoped, so their politeness parameters were temporarily suspended. “This is a ship made from stolen parts, what do you expect? For everything to run perfectly all the time? If you wanted that, you should’ve signed up for one of the legal spacefarers out there,” they quipped. If they had eyes, they would have rolled them. 

Jeremy sighed heavily, sinking down the wall and burying his face in his hands. Maybe it wasn’t too late to take Trevor up on that airlock offer, he was sure he’d be happy to oblige.

“Is Michael going with you?” Lindsay asked after a few minutes, breaking the silence and sounding innocent enough. Jeremy couldn’t tell whether they wanted a yes or a no, but there was no use lying to them. They’d seen Jeremy packing alone, his quarters empty while Michael’s were still very much full. 

“No,” he responded, shaking his head, “No, he’s not. He’s gonna be staying on board.”

“Oh, good. I like him. I’d be sad if he left.”

“But you’re not sad that I’m leaving?” There was no response to his words, just the comms beeping to signal that Lindsay wouldn’t be answering more of his questions. Jeremy sighed again and lowered his hands, staring back out at the stars. “I don’t even think that Michael’s sad that I’m leaving,” he muttered to himself, laying back down in his pile of clothes and shoving an old jacket under his head for a makeshift pillow.

He couldn’t exactly blame him for it, either. Maybe he could’ve been a better boyfriend, maybe he should’ve just bitten his tongue and held back whatever criticisms he had of Trevor and the ship. But part of this felt like it was inevitable, like he was always going to blow up like this. The worst part was that he didn’t even feel guilty about any of it, he was only sorry that speaking up had the consequences that it had. It was hard to have any regrets about it when he fully believed he was doing the right thing, though.

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

It only took them another week to reach the nearest spaceport, some podunk trading and tourist hub located pretty centrally to all the bigger colonies. Trevor liked it because they’d be able to stock up on supplies without having to scrounge or overpay. That was something that desperately needed doing, the last few ports had single rations sold for thousands of credits or reasonably priced ones that were nearly a century past date. Plus, they’d have pretty good odds at finding a replacement pilot there too. Jeremy liked it because it didn’t seem like the worst place to be booted onto, he could find work with another crew or in the port pretty easily. Everyone else liked it because being at port meant a few days of rest. Lindsay didn’t have to worry about some of the more power-hungry systems that came with flying a ship, which meant that Gavin didn’t have to run around making patchwork repairs at every hour of the day. But for some, their work didn’t stop. Matt always had to keep his ear to the radio for any incoming transmissions, and Michael and Fiona could only leave their experiments and samples unattended for so long before there were catastrophic results.

Reaching port this time was different this time around, though. They’d never had to say goodbye to one of their own before. Jeremy had been permitted one last night on the ship, but in the morning he’d have to go. To honor that last night, Gavin and Michael decided to organize a going away party for their fellow lad, complete with drinks and proper food (not just freeze-dried rations that pretended to be edible) and parting gifts. 

It made Jeremy feel better about going when he saw how sad everyone seemed to be, how sincere they were in expressing how much they would miss him. He’d convinced himself that they all hated him for speaking out the way that he had, no one had come to speak to him in the observation deck and the only time he saw anyone was when he was brought his rations, but the party was a good indication that they didn’t hate him: they just pitied him. 

Michael was certainly the most upset, despite the fact that he’d pretended to be unbothered only a week prior. Even if they had to do it from lightyears away, they promised each other they’d find a way to make things work. The communication technology was there, they’d still be able to talk. Michael was just glad that he wouldn’t have to worry too much about Jeremy while he was gone. It was a busy port, there’d be plenty of people around looking to hire a skilled pilot. And even if he couldn’t find work right away, it was safe enough that he could stay there for a while without running into any trouble unless he went looking. 

Despite all the fun of the festivities, Trevor’s absence was hard to miss. Jeremy had to admit that he’d been foolish for expecting it, but not getting a final goodbye from his former commander stung. 

However, Trevor had decided that his day was best spent working instead of partying, arranging for fresh shipments of supplies to be loaded into the cargo bay and beginning his search for a new pilot. The first task was successful, the latter one… Not so much. No one was really giving him the time of day, not believing him when he told them he captained his own ship and could afford to pay handsomely for work. Or they simply weren’t interested in the cargo that would need to be transported. After he was fed a lot of bullshit from people who clearly didn’t know anything trying to weasel their way onto his ship, he reached his limit and returned to the ship, thoroughly disheartened by the end of the night.

Trevor spent the evening in his quarters, agonizing over the situation for a few hours. There were a few solid candidates when he looked past all their unfavorable qualities, but he still wasn’t thrilled about any of them. Everyone was busy partying with Jeremy, he was grateful for the peace while he tried to work something out. The only thing that pulled him out of his thoughts was Lindsay’s chime. Usually that signaled that he’d been working for too long and it was time to get some rest, so he began to stand up, stretching his arms out over his head to ease away the stiffness.

“Commander, Gavin’s outside the door. Should I let him in?” They asked, sending a feed to his terminal of the lad standing outside the doors. He sat back down slowly, squinting as he looked at the grainy footage on the screen. 

“Does he look like he’s carrying any stink bombs? I can’t tell.” 

There were a few moments of silent examination before the comms beeped to life again. “Nope, he’s clear.” 

Trevor waved in approval then, twisting around in his chair to face the door. “Let him in, then.” 

The doors slid open to reveal Gavin standing there, fortunately empty-handed, with a smile on his face. “Commander! Missed you at the party, you should’ve been there! I saved you a bev, if you want it.” 

“No thanks. Some of us had actual work to do, y’know.” He paused, looking the other up and down. It was always hard to read Gavin, he was always brimming with so much energy, it was hard to tell if his fidgeting was excited stimming or covering up for anxious nerves. There was no telling what he wanted to share. “I really hope you didn’t come here just to chastise me for not going to a party for someone who couldn’t stop insulting the ship every chance he got.”

“Nah, I get it. No one insults our Lindsay and gets away with it. But… I do think I can help with some of your problems.” Trevor arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. “I know a pilot at this port. He’s one of the best. Well, actually, he is the best. And! He owes me a favor! So he’ll definitely be taking the job.”

“If he’s the best, how can you be sure he’s not currently in a crew?”

Gavin laughed at that, and Trevor’s face turned to one of confusion. “He’s rather picky about the jobs he takes. And, like I said: He owes me.”

He was quiet for a few moments, biting his lip as he thought it over. Gavin hadn’t led him astray before, it was how they’d ended up with Michael and Fiona on the crew, but it all felt a little too good to be true. Coincidences made him uneasy, but what choice did he have? “How soon can I meet him?”

“Tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“I’d like to, yeah. After breakfast. Lindsay, set an alarm for the engineering bay to make sure Gavin wakes up in time.”

“Yes, commander.”

“Hey!”

Trevor grinned as the other pouted. “Anything else, Gav?”

Gavin flipped him off before breaking out into a grin of his own. “Nope! That’s it. I should get back to the engines ‘case they bust again, but I’m happy to be of service. See you tomorrow, Trev.”

“See you tomorrow, Gavin. Get some rest, don’t stay up too late pestering Matt.”

“Will do, won’t do, goodnight!”

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

The next morning came soon enough, the crew having breakfast together for a change since Michael had been kind enough to grab some fresh ingredients and cook them a nice meal. It was refreshing to have real food, not just the usual freeze-dried rations or nutrient slurries they normally relied on. And real coffee was always a treat, though no one would dare insult Fiona’s synthesized seaweed coffee replacement for fear of losing the one caffeine source they had between stops. 

After the meal, Gavin and Trevor set out as planned. They had a pilot to search for, and the lad wouldn’t stop ranting and raving about how great this guy was supposed to be. Trevor just hoped that he was going to live up to all the hype.

“When you said this guy is picky about the jobs he takes, just how picky did you mean?” He asked as they searched through the first hotspot. There were a few places this mysterious pilot liked to hang out in apparently, and there was no telling which one he’d be at. 

Gavin chuckled softly, glancing over at Trevor with a smile until he realized he was being serious. Then, he just shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno. He won’t complain about the ship, if that’s what you mean.”

“Kind of. I just want to make sure he’s not too high class to run the sort of jobs we run.”

“Oh, trust me. He’s not. He is exactly low class enough to run these sort of jobs. But, y’know, like everyone else he wants to make sure the money’s real, and that he’s not gonna end up space dust.” 

“Fair enough.” Those were reasonable requests, and ones that were easy enough for Trevor to guarantee. No one on his crew ever ran out of credits, and no one had gotten seriously injured on a job. The ‘on the job’ part was the most important part of that sentence, because injuries did still happen around the ship, despite everyone’s best efforts. 

Spots two and three were as equally bust as the first one, but Gavin was just as determined as he’d been at breakfast. Trevor, not so much. It was well past mid-day by the time they reached the fifth spot, some sort of hotel and lounge for people to catch their breath and put their feet up. 

The moment they stepped in the door, there was a big beaming grin on Gavin’s face. “Fredo!” He shouted, raising his arms as he cheered. “Took us long enough to find you!”

The man in question was seated casually on a sofa, nose buried in a magazine, though his attention was broken by Gavin’s shouting cutting through the ambiance. “Gavin?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he set his magazine aside and stood. “What the hell are you doing so far out?”

“Ah, well, that’s a bit of a long story,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss the question as he walked up to the man and wrapped an arm around him. He dragged him over to Trevor, still beaming. “Trevor, this is Alfredo. Best pilot on this side of the universe. On both sides, probably, but he doesn’t like to brag. And Alfredo, this is Trevor. He’s the big boss of the Morrigan.”

“I, uh… Yeah, that’s me. I’m the cap- The commander.”

“Cat got your tongue, Commander?” Alfredo asked, smirking as the other’s face tinted red. “C’mon, let’s go somewhere else and chat. There’s way too many people listening in out here.”

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

They ended up in Alfredo’s room, crowded around the small table underneath a dim light. However, Trevor didn’t need a lot of light to get a read on someone, and he noticed a lot of things about their potential new pilot in a short time. He didn’t fidget like Gavin did, each movement seemed like it was with purpose, but sometimes he’d flex his fingers and roll his wrists. It told him that he was as experienced as Gavin said, because Jeremy had started to do the same thing after a long time behind the helm. His jacket was well worn, the red still bright in some spots but faded in others, and patched in places where it’d been damaged. That told him that Alfredo wasn’t afraid of a fight, and he was resourceful enough to not let good things go to waste. All good things, in his book. 

“So, what’s your offer?” Alfredo asked, breaking the silence once they’d all gotten settled around the table. 

“My… Offer?” 

“Yeah. If I work for you, what do I get?”

Trevor and Gavin looked at each other for a moment, the latter stunned by the bluntness of the question, but the former was used to unprofessionalism like that. In fact, he preferred it. “Well, for starters, a spot on the ship. You get your own private quarters. However, you really are there as a backup to our ship’s computer in case things get extra… Challenging. They’re good, but there’s limits to every AI.”

Alfredo’s eyebrows raised at that. He’d never been on a ship that had a computer like that on it before. “Sounds like a fancy ship.”

Gavin snorted out a laugh, shaking his head quickly. “Trust me, it’s not. It’s all cobbled together, and the only reason we ended up with Lindsay was because their system was gonna be salvage otherwise.” 

“Right…” He cleared his throat, looking back to Trevor. “What about money?”

“We all get an equal cut of the credits. We’re all important on the Morrigan, no one gets more or less than anyone else.” Everyone put in a lot of work to keep the ship running smoothly, sometimes Trevor felt like he wasn’t doing enough in comparison. Every now and then, he’d take less from his own cut to give everyone else a little more. It felt fair. “And we kind of just go wherever when we’re not running jobs.”

Alfredo was quiet for a few moments, thinking things over. He knew he owed Gavin a favor, but at the same time this whole deal seemed too good to be true. No commander was ever this reasonable, this good to his crew. “Can you go wait outside for a minute? I’d like to talk to Gavin,” he said finally, and Trevor was happy to oblige. He didn’t take his eyes off the other man until the door closing forced him too, then they were fixed on Gavin. “This smells like bullshit.”

“I’m telling you Fredy, it’s not. We all get an equal cut, the rooms are pretty damn lush, and the jobs are alright. I don’t do much but patch up the ship after them, but we haven’t had any major hull breaches yet.” He seemed quite proud of himself for that, but deflated when Alfredo didn’t respond in kind. 

“Yeah, but what about your last pilot? What happened to them? No one just leaves a gig this good.”

“Ah, well… Actually, some do. There were a few… Disagreements. He wasn’t happy on the ship, and Trevor doesn’t like when people insult the Morrigan, or Lindsay,” he explained, choosing his words carefully. He wasn’t sure either of the men involved would be happy if the story started to get spread. “But it’s a good ship, a good crew, and Trevor’s a good man. Plus, you owe me.”

“I know, and that’s the worst part!” He groaned, slumping forward with his face in his hands. “I hate owing you, you always make people pay you back in the worst possible ways!”

“Oi! I’m getting you a job!”

“Yeah, and it all sounds shady as shit! I know you’re smugglers, but damn. Trevor’s cold.”

Gavin just chuckled softly, because he couldn’t exactly disagree with him. The commander had his moments, but didn’t everyone? “Look, Fredo. You need this, and we need you. So just… Take the job, would you?” 

Alfredo chewed the inside his lip as he thought it over, letting out a long sigh after a minute. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Gavin said with a grin, clapping Alfredo on the shoulder before yelling for Trevor to come back inside. 

He genuinely couldn’t guess what they had been talking about in there, but judging by the look on Gavin’s face it was something good. “You’ve decided, then?” He asked Alfredo as he took his seat again.

“He has! He said that he’d joi-“

“-Gavin, dude. Let me talk,” he said, swatting at the other man to get him to shut up. “I’ll join your crew, on one condition…” He trailed off, wanting to gauge the other’s response before he continued.

“And that is?” Trevor asked, arching an eyebrow and waiting for him to go on. 

“I have some cargo I need to get off this asteroid. It’ll be a win/win for the both of us: You get to see how good I fly, I get this job off my back, and you, me, and your crew get to split the money.”

It’d be a good reason to get out of the spaceport faster too. Trevor wasn’t planning on leaving until they had a job anyway and now one had fallen right into their laps with a new pilot in hand. “Sounds like a deal to me,” he said, reaching a hand out for Alfredo to shake and smiling across the table at him. It was a genuine smile, the facade of the stern negotiator falling away. 

Alfredo grinned right back at him, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “Hell yes.”

“We can get into the details of the job back on the ship, but I wanna introduce you to your new crew first.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love them, Fredo. They’re all brilliant.” 

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

The Morrigan welcomed its commander back onto the ship with a cheerful musical tone, the doors sliding open as he approached with Gavin and Alfredo in tow. 

“Oh, now who’s this?” Lindsay asked, curious about the new arrival. If they were being honest, they hadn’t expected Gavin to be telling the truth about knowing a pilot, or for Trevor to be convincing enough to get him to join. Their expectations weren’t pessimistic, just realistic. They knew their crew.

“Lindsay! Hey there, perfect timing,” Trevor said with a grin as Gavin scurried off to go gather the rest of the crew. “This is Alfredo, he’s gonna be our new pilot! And Alfredo, this is Lindsay, our ship's computer, and your co-pilot. If you have any questions about the ship, they’ll be the one to ask.”

“That’s right!” They chirped, “Not to brag or anything, but I know more about this ship than anyone, except maybe Gavin. We’re about equal, but don’t tell him I said that!”

Alfredo chuckled, amused by just how much personality this supposed AI had. “Are you sure there’s not a person on the other side of those comms, commander?”

Trevor simply shook his head. “Nope, just a Lindsay!” He answered, motioning for Alfredo to follow him as he led him further into the ship. Doors opened and shut behind them automatically as they went, which meant that Lindsay was keeping a close eye on them. They’d really taken Jeremy’s comments about the ship to heart, and they had to make sure the new guy wasn’t going to say the same thing. 

“No offense, but… How does a ship like this afford a computer like that? I know how much these jobs make, and how much those things cost, and… The math just isn’t adding up.”

The speakers beeped to life with a gentle tone, and Lindsay spoke up for themselves. “I was a rejected version of an even more advanced system, but because of how advanced I still was, they couldn’t just shut me down and wipe out all my data. So, they put me up for sale instead.”

“We got a pretty good deal on them, actually. No one really wants a buggy AI, too much of a risk or whatever, but for a smuggling crew who doesn’t care about perfection, they’re perfect.” The bugs that the programmers had rejected Lindsay for were hardly even bugs in Trevor’s eyes, they were just things that made them too hard to control. There was no speech filter, no way to control them or make them do whatever you wanted, which is why they’d been rejected. You had to treat them like a person, and their programmers had hated that. 

Alfredo was genuinely impressed by the state of the ship, and how smoothly things seemed to run on the surface. Lindsay gave him a quick brief on the engine the ship was powered by and some tips for when he was at the controls to help work around some of its quirks. By the time their spiel was done, they’d reached the bridge where everyone had been gathered so they could get introductions out of the way all at once instead of hunting people down one by one.

The Morrigan was no small ship, and its crew matched it. It was, by far, the largest smuggling ship that Alfredo had ever stepped foot in. Probably the happiest as well. Every role had a person to fill it, and none of them seemed to have many complaints either. 

The first person to speak up and introduce herself was Jack, the ship’s navigations officer. She worked with Lindsay to chart their courses, keeping in mind everything that they’d have to avoid ranging from rogue space debris to the ever annoying authorities. The three of them would be working very closely together, so Alfredo was glad that she spoke up first. 

Michael and Fiona introduced themselves next, the former being the ship’s medical officer and physician while the latter was a scientist. She had her own experiments to run, but she also spent a lot of time helping Michael keep everyone on board the ship healthy. It was a much more difficult task than one would expect, apparently. Alfredo asked Fiona what she was doing on the ship, but she refused to say anything more than “nunya business,” and Trevor insisted that it was better if he didn’t know, so he dropped the subject. 

The communications officer introduced himself after that. Matt was more quiet and reserved than everyone else seemed to be, but he still seemed quite content in his role. It seemed like there wasn’t much to do - there were no aliens trying to make contact, or even that many other ships for that matter - so he spent a lot of his time misusing the comms to catch up on radio shows from Earth or the other space outposts. 

“Alright! Well, feel free to hang out with everyone for a bit,” Trevor said, noticeably relieved that everyone seemed to like Alfredo, and vice-versa. It was a good first step. Gavin was usually a pretty good judge of character, but one could never be too careful. 

“You’re not gonna stick around?” Alfredo asked, frowning a little. “You can’t just leave me alone with these guys.” That comment was hushed, he didn’t want anyone else to hear. 

“Sure I can. I’ve got some work to do, and besides, they don’t bite.” He looked pointedly at Michael. “Usually.” Alfredo whirled around to follow Trevor’s gaze, eyes going wide as Michael snarled at him. The pair broke out into laughter, making Alfredo huff in displeasure.

“That’s not funny, man.”

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist. Just… Relax.” He put his hands on the other’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “Everyone here is great, they’re the nicest people on this side of the galaxy. You’re gonna have to get to know them eventually, so you might as well start now. I got some work I gotta do to get us loaded up, but come up to my quarters later. We need to hammer out the details of that job so we can get outta here soon.”

Alfredo nodded slowly, mumbling a confirmation and watching as Trevor turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Michael and Gavin slammed a hand down onto each of his shoulders, snapping him out of his trance as they whirled him around. 

“C’mon, Alfredo! We’ve still got some booze leftover from Jeremy’s going away party,” Michael told him with a wicked grin, “Jack makes the best drinks, you gotta try one.”

“I dunno... I just joined, is that really smart?”

“Is what smart?” 

“Drinking.”

“Nah,” Gavin scoffed, shaking his head quickly. “Drinking’s always smart, trust me.”

Alfredo rolled his eyes. He knew firsthand that trusting Gavin was a bad idea when it came to alcohol, but on the other hand… Maybe it’d be a good way to get more comfortable around everyone. He was still a little wary, and a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of the crew, some help feeling more at ease was definitely welcome. It was called liquid courage for a reason. 

And after a few drinks, he certainly felt more at ease. At the same time, it was weird being accepted so quickly. Sometimes he was stuck on his own, even when he was on a crew. Space had a tendency to be a very lonely and isolating place, it seemed like these people were well aware of the fact, and worked hard to make sure no one fell victim to its clutches. Fiona saw him standing off to the side, trying to edge away from all the excitement, and dragged him right into it. Jack gave him drinks when she spotted an empty cup, alternating between alcoholic and not to make sure he didn’t end up too far gone. And Michael and Gavin were something else entirely, wasting no time in filling him in on the latest ship gossip and ongoing pranks. Ultimately, he decided that he’d made a good choice in trusting Gavin and joining the Morrigan. 

When the festivities died down and everyone began to clean up and retreat to their quarters, Alfredo took it as his sign to go and find Trevor and discuss the job with him. Finding his quarters was easy enough, but he hesitated outside. 

“He already knows you’re there, you know,” Lindsay piped up, giggling when they saw Alfredo jump and search around for the source of their voice. It was all around them, coming through every speaker in that part of the hall. “He’s got a video feed that shows the hall outside of his door. Put it in after Gavin pranked him a few too many times,” they added, this time only speaking from the nearest speaker. 

“Yeah, Gavin’s always been one for pranks.” He stepped closer to the door, but still didn’t go in.

They hummed softly, some sensors whirring in a far off room of the Morrigan. “Why are you hesitating?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because!” Alfredo gestured in exasperation, activating the door’s motion sensor. He jumped again as it slid open, staring through it and making eye contact with Trevor, who was seated at his desk and smiling knowingly. 

“Thank you, Lindsay.”

“Any time, commander! That trick never fails.”

Alfredo looked at Trevor with wide eyes, stammering out an excuse that was immediately waved off. “Just come on in, there’s no use putting it off,” he told him. “The sooner we get things sorted, the sooner we can get out of the port.”

“Why the rush?” He asked as he stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him with a loud thunk. “It’s pretty nice, as far as spaceports go.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a disgruntled former pilot hanging around here now, and I really don’t want him deciding that he wants to get revenge.”

“Fair enough.” Alfredo sat down in the chair across from Trevor, watching him from across the desk. When the other didn’t speak right away, he took it as an opportunity to do so instead. “So, the job. It’s several crates of cargo, will you have enough space in the hold for all of that?”

“How many is several, exactly?”

“About ten, all pretty decently sized. A yard or two each way, at least.”

Trevor chuckled, nodding as he made a note. “Oh yeah, we’ll have plenty of room. I’ve got some supplies getting loaded up tomorrow, if you talk to a man named Geoff at the mercantile he’ll be sure to slip ‘em in, make sure no one suspects anything.”

Alfredo raised his eyebrows, impressed. “That’s it? No questions about the cargo?”

Trevor let out a long sigh at that, lifting his eyes from his notebook to look at him. “Usually, I don’t want to know. It’s not my business to know. I’m not paid to know,” he explained, waiting until the other nodded in understanding to carry on. “But, since you brought it up, I feel like I should ask… Is it alive?”

“Uh… Yeah, it is.”

“Is it people? Cause I don’t do that shit.”

“What? No. No! It’s… Well, it’s-“

“Is it gonna break out of the crates and kill us in our sleep?”

Alfredo didn’t have an immediate answer to that one. Trevor didn’t find that comforting. 

“Probably not?”

They stared at each other for a few moments, gauging each other’s reactions until Trevor broke the silence. “Works for me! Like I said, talk to Geoff at the mercantile, let him know where you keep everything, he’ll get it all worked out.” He extended his hand, offering it to Alfredo for him to shake. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Alfredo.”

“Likewise,” the other man said, reaching out and giving Trevor’s hand a firm shake. “The Morrigan seems like a real nice ship, I can’t wait to see how they fly.”

With that, Alfredo took his leave, but Trevor kept his eyes on the door long after he walked out. 

The comms beeped to life, and Lindsay spoke from a speaker on Trevor’s desk. “I like him already.”

“Yeah, I do too,” he said whimsically before shaking his head to clear the thoughts from his mind and pointing a finger at the speaker. “I never said that. You didn’t hear that.”

“Of course, Commander. I heard nothing.”

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

The cargo was loaded up without issue the following day. All Alfredo had to do was give the boxes a small mark once they were in the hold, that way they’d know what was the smuggled cargo, but that was an easy enough task. They spent a few more hours at the port, letting everyone do a small tour around for some shopping and giving Michael a chance to say some goodbyes to Jeremy before they set out. 

“Alright, let’s see how this baby flies,” Alfredo said with a grin once he was in the pilot’s seat, cracking his knuckles. This was the one place where he truly felt confident and in his element, and it was so good to be back where he belonged. “Jack, we got a course set?”

“Yup, Lindsay’s got all the info, and there should be a copy of it there on your terminal,” Jack said from her station, turning in her seat to look at Alfredo and give him a thumbs up. She grinned as she got one in return. 

“Sweet. Lindsay, you ready to take off?” 

A few melodic beeps came through the speakers as they checked in with Gavin to make sure the engines were all in working order, then they spoke. “I am! Gavin’s on standby in case anything goes wrong, too.”

“Perfect, start the launch sequence for me, please?”

“Ooh, how polite! I like this one,” they hummed, and Jack laughed softly from her station at the way Alfredo’s cheeks tinged pink. “Sure thing, Fredo. One launch sequence, coming right up!”

The Morrigan shook and creaked as the engines fired up, groaning with effort as the sound roared through the engineering bay and echoed around the spaceport. It was a big ship that required a lot of power to get going, even more so to break away from the gravitational field surrounding the port, and every time they took the crew was terrified that it would come apart at the seams under the pressure. But, like it did every time before, it pulled through, and it wasn’t long until they were up in the atmosphere and out into space. 

“Wow,” Alfredo breathed, slumping back in his chair once things had stabilized. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. “Is it always like that?”

Trevor chuckled from behind him, smiling and nodding. “Yeah, pretty much.” He walked up and patted Alfredo on the shoulder, making eye contact with him in the window’s reflection before looking past it at the stars. “Get used to it, buddy.” The clanking of the ship he’d long since learned to tune out, but seeing the stars? It never got old to him. They were just as beautiful every time he saw them, and it was easy to get lost looking at them as they went by. 

“Guess I’m gonna have to.” It was clear that Trevor was lost in thought, so Alfredo just nudged his hand from his shoulder and leaned to look around him at Jack. “How we lookin’? Smooth sailing?”

“Smooth sailing. No asteroids, no authorities, no other ships if we’re lucky. I’ll let you know if that changes, though. It’ll take us a while to get to our next stop, few days at the most.”

“Can this thing handle lightspeed?”

Jack and Lindsay both broke out into laughter, and even Trevor snapped out of his trance to join in. 

“Absolutely not,” Lindsay told him, laughing brightly. They took great pride in the Morrigan, but even they knew its limits. “We’ve been trying to get our hands on a new warp drive for a while now, but no such luck. We’re stuck inside this solar system for the time being, unfortunately.”

“Put my cut from the job towards one, then.” Trevor’s eyebrows shot up, and he met Alfredo’s eyes through the reflection once more. “I’m serious. The further you can travel, the better jobs you can get.” And even for short distances, Alfredo wasn’t really one for travelling at a space snail’s pace. “The better jobs you get, the more money you make.” 

Trevor couldn’t disagree with that logic, so he simply just nodded in approval. “I’ll start putting my cut towards one too, then.” 

“Seriously?” Jack piped up, “like Gavin doesn’t have enough to fix around here?”

The commander turned towards her, arching an eyebrow. “Everyone’s free to spend their cut on whatever they like, and that’s how Alfredo and I are choosing to use ours. Do I say anything when you spend it on baseball cards just cause Geoff and Gav talked about ‘em?”

“No…”

“No, I don’t. So, you mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.” Trevor could take a ribbing as good as the rest of the ship’s crew, but there were some things he just wouldn’t take. The ship was still a very sore subject for him. Jack let out a long sigh but nodded, knowing that there was no use in pushing the matter further. “So, Alfredo. You don’t have to stay here all the time, Lindsay’ll put an alarm out if there’s any immediate threats you’re needed for. I don’t expect you to be sitting here all day, every day. That’d just be mean.”

Alfredo nodded in understanding, spinning around in the chair to get a look at Trevor. “I’ll probably hang out here most of the day, though. Nice view, y’know? Plus I wouldn’t want Lindsay and Jack to get bored,” he joked, cracking a smile. 

“Good plan.” Trevor nodded in approval before he spun around to leave, though he lingered just out of sight. Alfredo was agreeable, almost too agreeable. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the guy, or that he cared if he was a troublemaker, but it was certainly an oddity to have a crewmember that actually wanted to do their job. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch. 

Jack scoffed from her seat once she thought Trevor was gone, glancing over at Alfredo from her terminal. “You let him walk all over you, dude.”

“He’s the boss, I’m gonna listen to him,” he responded simply, looking to her for barely a second before his eyes were back on the stars. 

“Yeah, but you can push back a little, he’s not gonna bite your head off for it.”

“He gets enough of that from the rest of you assholes.”

“Whoa, okay. Just trying to help.” 

Alfredo turned in his chair then, meeting Jack’s eyes. “I don’t need your help. Did you hear what Trevor said? ‘You mind your business, I’ll mind mine?’ That goes for me too.” He’d put up with enough bullshit from the other crews he’d been a part of and jobs he’d taken, and he wasn’t going to let this be like the rest of them. He knew the difference between letting himself get pushed over and keeping his head below the fenceline so he didn’t end up losing it. 

They stared each other down for a few long moments, sizing each other up. Jack realized then that she’d misjudged Alfredo. He wasn’t some rookie pilot pulled off the streets, he was the real deal, and he wasn’t going to take any shit from anyone. On the other hand, Alfredo realized that he’d judged Jack correctly, and he didn’t like antagonists much. He knew he’d warm up to her eventually, he had to if he didn’t want this whole thing to fall through, but that was an awfully bad start. 

Lindsay couldn’t stand the tension that was building in the room, making the air so thick that the vent system was having a hard time sucking it up for purification. So they did the only thing they could to break it: Sound a station-wide alarm. Trevor had to come out of his hiding spot then, running up to the main console to check the system. 

“Lindsay, what the hell’s going on?!” He asked, having to shout over the blaring alarm. 

“I don’t know, the alarm just started going off!” They shouted back, sounding panicked, although it was all an act. They pretended to flounder for a moment, making sure that there was enough time for the tension to fade entirely and that Alfredo and Jack had forgotten about their spat before they killed the alarm. “There! All sorted, I think it was just a crossed wire or something. Crazy, huh?” They could tell that Trevor didn’t quite believe them, but at least Jack and Alfredo had gotten back to work. “Maybe you should stick around for a bit, commander. Just to make sure nothing like that happens again.”

“Hm.” He hummed as he took a seat in the commander’s chair, kicking his feet up onto the console in front of him. There was no way to tell what they were playing at, but keeping an eye on the new recruit wasn’t exactly a bad idea, especially if Jack was going to be giving him trouble. “I think you’re right, Lindsay. Can’t be having any trouble on the bridge now, can we? Good call.”

“No commander, we can’t. And thank you.”

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

Things were quiet for a few days. Too quiet. There were the usual pranks and fights and other nonsense, but there were no large scale problems. Any commander would be happy about that and proud of their crew for avoiding disaster, but not Trevor. On the Morrigan, that meant there was a ticking time bomb hidden somewhere on the ship, and it was only a matter of time until it blew. He allowed himself to sleep, but only for a few hours at a time, and when he was awake he was on constant patrol. The previous longest record for going without a major incident was about three days, and it was now encroaching on a week. He wasn’t counting the detour they’d had to make to avoid some random authorities patrolling the system as a major incident, just a minor setback, so they were still due for something. 

When it hit a week since their last incident, he was almost convinced that he could relax, that he could let his guard down and accept that there was nothing waiting just around the bend for him. Almost. Barely a second after that thought crossed his mind, he heard footsteps quickly approaching from behind him.

“Hey, Trevor-boy!” Gavin called out for him, making him spin on his heels. “So, got a bit of a problem for you.” It was weird seeing someone relieved to learn there was a problem, but Trevor certainly looked that way. “There’s a lot of uh… Banging, coming from the storage deck.”

“Have you gone down there to check it out?” He asked, already knowing the answer before he even asked. 

“Absolutely not! Are you insane? Michael won’t go either, before you ask, you’re gonna have to go down there and look,” he informed him, and Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hey, don’t give me that! We don’t know what Alfredo brought on board, and I’m not trying to get eaten.”

“He promised me it wouldn’t kill us in our sleep.”

“That doesn’t mean it won’t kill us when we’re awake, though.”

Trevor sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment as he thought his next words over carefully. “Lindsay?” He called, his attention no longer on Gavin as he began to walk

The speaker system chimed to life, and Lindsay greeted the two of them cheerfully. “Yes, commander?”

“Where’s Alfredo?” 

There was a beat of silence as they checked all of their ocular systems. “He’s in the bridge, why?”

“Have him meet me down by the storage bay, would you? And have Michael bring down a few weapons, I don’t know what we’re dealing with. Can you tell if anything’s started moving down there?”

“There is a lot of movement down there, but I think whatever it is, it’s still in the crates.” The comms system buzzed as they went quiet, searching the cargo bay to make sure they weren’t sending their crew down into certain death. “Yeah, no, it’s definitely still contained.” There was a beat of silence before they whispered, “for now.”

That brought some relief, at least. Still, he didn’t want to go in there with nothing, just in case. At least they managed to hit a new record. He’d have to mark it on his calendar when he got back up to his quarters. 

He let Gavin get back to work somewhere along the way down to the bottom of the ship, waiting outside the door to the hold and tapping his foot as he waited for Alfredo and Michael to join him. As he opened his mouth to ask Lindsay to let them know he was waiting, he heard the telltale sound of yelling that signalled Michael’s approach. Alfredo was much quieter, but he had no doubt that he was in tow.

Still, he was impatient. Trevor always was when it came to the safety of his crew. If there was anything that had the potential to harm them, he wanted it dealt with as quickly and efficiently as possible. There was no room for wasting time. He already had his hand out as Michael rounded the corner, and he didn’t lower it until he felt the weight of a gun settled in it. 

“Gave you your usual rifle, boss. Figured you’d want something reliable,” he explained, watching as Trevor inspected the rifle to make sure it was up to his standards. “Gave Fredo the harpoon gun, figured it might be handy and he said he’s used one of those before. Plus pistols for the both of you. Try not to miss your shots, though. Gavin’ll be pissed if he has to do a hull repair.” 

“Thank you, Michael. We’ll take it from here, but…” He trailed off, noticing that Michael himself was also armed with a variety of weapons. “Standby out here, just in case. Lindsay’ll let you know if we run into trouble.” They nodded at each other in understanding, the doors to the cargo bay sliding open in front of them. “Let’s go.”

Alfredo could only give a tiny nod himself, following behind the commander as they stepped into the hold. It was bright, the lights at full blast to make sure there weren’t any shadows to hide in. But that wasn’t enough to stop him from being nervous. His hands didn’t shake, but he was chewing on his bottom lip so much that it was starting to bleed, and every little noise made him raise the harpoon gun and aim. 

“You wanna tell me what’s in those crates?” Trevor asked as they worked their way towards the center of the hold, checking every nook and cranny as Lindsay kept them updated on any movement around them that was out of the ordinary. “I was fine with not knowing before, but-“ He was cut off by the sound of wood scraping against metal, dull thuds as whatever was inside of them grew restless. “But because of things like that, I can’t let things slide anymore.”

The other man hesitated, continuing to bite at his lip, but Trevor’s gaze was piercing and it made his blood run cold against his tongue. Nothing got past the commander, even the smallest of lies. “Plants. It’s plants.”

“Plants don’t move like that,” Trevor pointed out, and Alfredo couldn’t exactly refute his claim. “Now, what the hell is actually in these crates?”

“I’m being serious. It’s plants.” A beat of silence, more piercing stares, before he continued. “Mutant plants that were definitely overfed a ton of fertilizer and who only knows what else, but… Yeah. Plants.”

“Mutant… Plants?” The words fell slowly off of Trevor’s tongue, processing what they meant at the same time they left his mouth. “Just how mutant, exactly?”

“Depends. Some of ‘em are still pretty plant-like, but… Others are getting pretty close to Audrey II territory.” 

“As much as I appreciate the comparison, I’d appreciate a little more seriousness even more.” Alfredo murmured an apology, but Trevor’s silence made it clear that the time for talking was over. 

After a few more paces they reached the crates, specially marked to make it stand out from all of the other similar crates, but only to the trained eye. Sure enough, there was some banging coming from inside the crate, as well as some angry hissing, but it wasn’t exactly loud enough to be heard from the engineering deck, especially not over the roar of the engines either. If Gavin was able to hear it, it had to be something much bigger, much louder. 

They began to inspect the crates one by one, making sure each one was intact and tightening whatever screws had started to get knocked loose by the thrashing within. All the noise and movement had Trevor on edge, his heart racing and normally steady hands shaking each time he had to touch one of the boxes. 

“That’s all of them. Nine crates, all secure.”

Alfredo frowned, eyebrows furrowed together as his eyes flicked from crate to crate. “There should be ten here.” They both counted, and re-counted, and counted one last time for good measure. Sure enough, there were only nine crates with no sign of a tenth. 

“Lindsay, double-check the manifest for me?” They did, which only confirmed that there was a crate missing. Trevor’s face mirrored the pilot’s then, concern etched deep into their features. “Alfredo? Any explanations?” 

“Alright, this isn’t my fault.”

“I’m not saying it is, but I would still like an explanation. Or at least some way to make sense of… This.”

Alfredo shifted, uncomfortable under Trevor’s gaze. “Well… Best guess is that… Either Geoff miscounted or left one off the ship, or-“

“-Which is pretty likely-“

“-Or one of the plants escaped. Which is also pretty likely. Maybe even more likely.”

“Well. Shit.” They both hoisted up their weapons simultaneously, knowing that they couldn’t afford to get caught off guard by anything. “Lindsay, lock down the cargo bay! Nothing gets in or out of here, not even the two of us. If anything starts moving other than us or those crates, you tell us immediately, got it?”

“Sure thing, commander. There’s just… One teensy-tiny problem.”

Trevor groaned loudly, looking up at the speaker. “And that is what, exactly?”

“Well, you see… There’s so much movement in those crates that… I kinda can’t see any movement anywhere else in the ship, and especially not in the cargo bay. It throws my whole system off, I can’t see anything.”

He whirled around to look at Alfredo upon hearing that, rifle still raised, and for a second he thought that the commander was going to shoot him right where he stood. The thought crossed Trevor’s mind, he wasn’t going to lie about that, but he decided that it would be unwise. He needed someone to watch his back, even if that someone was the one who got him into this mess. Turning back around and marching on, he let out a very slow, very shaky breath as he tried to control his anger. 

“Alfredo?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You and I are going to stay in here and keep watch on the rest of these crates to make sure no more of these…” He trailed off, glaring back at the crates before his gaze was back on Alfredo. “Things escape before we reach our destination. Michael and Jack are going to be patrolling the rest of the ship to keep everyone else safe. I don’t know what the hell these things are capable of, and I’m assuming you don’t either, so we need to be on high alert. Got it?” 

Alfredo nodded quickly. “Yes sir.”

“Good. Now… Lindsay, how far away are we?”

“We’re about a day out. I’ll try and push the engines so we can get there faster but-”

“Don’t bother, I’d rather not blow the ship. Alfredo and I are just going to have to find some way to keep ourselves occupied.” 

A day stuck in the cargo hold with the commander, who was very armed and very angry, really wasn’t ideal for Alfredo, but he acknowledged that there were worse punishments he could be given. He was just glad that he’d already opted to put his cut towards the ship, because there was no way he’d be given all of it after this. 

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

“Got any sevens?”

“No, go fish. Got any threes?”

“Nope, go fishin’! Got any… Got any aces?”

There was a long moment of silence, and then: “This would be easier with cards. I don’t remember what I have or don’t have anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

It had been several hours since the start of the cargo bay lockdown, and they were already running out of things to do. They’d searched the hold over and over until they found scrapes in the floor that lead to a splintered crate at the far end, but nothing that told them where the plant monster had run off to. Then, they reinforced all the remaining crates, doing what they could to make sure nothing else would try to escape and end up succeeding in their attempt. After that, they’d sort of run out of things to do to keep busy. “Imaginary Go Fish” was only entertaining the first time (though Trevor would disagree), and Lindsay had shut off all their sensors in the hold in an attempt to get everything else back in working order so they could help Michael and Jack. Not only were they cut off from the rest of the crew, but they were alone for the next twenty or so hours. 

“At least we’re down here with the supplies so we don’t starve,” Alfredo muttered, trying to find any possible brightside to the situation. 

Trevor hummed in agreement, standing up and shaking out his arms. “Yeah, at least we won’t starve,” he agreed, the slightest hint of mockery in his tone. He had yet to outright voice his displeasure, but he was sure Alfredo could put the pieces together. After stretching, he checked his watch. “Time for another walk around. You stay put.” 

Slumping against a crate, Alfredo nodded, making sure he had his own weapon in hand as Trevor readied his own and walked off. They did this every half hour or so. Trevor made him do the first few, but he must’ve gotten tired of sitting around because it was the first time he’d offered to go. 

His footsteps echoed off the thick metal walls of the hold, and Alfredo listened intently to them. The only other sounds were the dull thuds of the contained plant monsters and the usual creaks and groans of the Morrigan itself, but those were easy to tune out once they droned on long enough. When the footsteps stopped, it was like the hold went completely silent. 

He was immediately on edge, standing up quickly and hoisting the harpoon gun up as he went. “Trevor?” he called, taking a few hesitant steps forward. When there wasn’t an immediate response, he took a few more, heading towards where he’d last heard the other’s footsteps come from. 

“I’m fine,” Trevor called back after a minute, “Just stay there, everything’s fine!”

“You don’t sound too sure,” was the response he got, and he just let out a huff. 

It was true, he wasn’t too sure, because in a corner Alfredo had surely overlooked on his previous patrols, the plant had taken over. Its thorny vines stretched across the floors and up the walls, writhing and squirming as it supported the weight of what looked like a giant flower bud but… Flowers weren’t supposed to have teeth. That was the one thing that had been consistent across the planets he’d been to. Plants didn’t have teeth. “I’m not,” he muttered to himself, wondering why the hell he’d agreed to take this job in the first place. You needed a pilot, he reminded himself as he took slow, careful steps back in an effort not to startle the thing. But I don’t think we needed one this badly.

“What’s going on? I’m coming over there.”

Trevor turned around slowly, carefully, just in time to see Alfredo running up. “No, don’t!” he shouted, putting a hand up to stop him, but something stopped him instead. 

A vine wrapped itself tight around his arm, the thorns digging in deep and latching on. It had been resting peacefully before, able to slumber without being disturbed by the occasional movement and noise from the two men, but Trevor’s sudden shouting had woken it up. And it was not pleased. 

He cried out in pain, instinctively trying to pull his arm free, but it only made the vine hold on even tighter. It reminded him of those finger traps Jeremy had brought on board one time: the more he pulled, the more it constricted his arm. But unlike those finger traps, it had no intentions of letting go once Trevor relaxed. 

Alfredo stood there in shock, eyes wide and frozen in place until the commander barked out an order. He didn’t even register the words, just that he needed to move, and he needed to move now. Gavin was going to kill him for the damage later, but there was no time to aim the harpoon gun properly before he was pulling the trigger. Though it missed the bud by a few feet, the harpoon did manage to sever a few of its tendrils. The plant monster let out an ear-piercing shriek, untangling itself from Trevor in order to start scaling the wall and worming its way into an air vent. The metal of the grate covering it bent and snapped from the force, and the ends of several vines hung out through the remaining slats. 

“Nice work,” Trevor managed through gritted teeth, trying to pretend like his arm wasn’t bleeding as badly as it was and didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did. Alfredo saw through the act in less than a second, retrieving the harpoon before dropping the gun and approaching Trevor. 

“That looks… Bad. I should’ve given you my jacket,” he muttered, pushing his sleeve up to get a better look at the damage. Bruises were already starting to form where the vine itself had been, and there were several grisly cuts from the thorns, all bleeding pretty badly. “Fuck… Lindsay! We need Michael down here, now!”

Trevor pushed Alfredo’s hands off him before sinking to his knees and gripping his arm, trying to cover at least one of the cuts in an effort to stop the flow of blood. Whatever wasn’t soaked up by his shirt dripped down to the floor, creating a pretty sizable puddle beneath him that began to soak into the knees of his pants as well. “They can’t hear you… They shut down all their sensors for this room, remember?” There were a lot of flaws in their plan, he saw that now. But at least he knew that the beast was for sure in the cargo bay, not that there was anything that could be done about that right then. “There’s… There may be some emergency supplies by the door, Michael makes sure there’s some in every room.” Accidents happened everywhere, and the lad hated having to run all the way back to the medbay for a bandage every time someone got hurt. 

Once Alfredo had retrieved the medkit, he helped Trevor to his feet and guided him back to their makeshift campsite. The further they were from that vent, the better off they were, though the plant monster would easily be able to follow the trail of blood Trevor left behind right to them. They sat down together there, Trevor still clutching his arm as he leaned back against the crates with a soft groan. He was feeling a bit woozy, 

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna bandage this up for now, hopefully that stops the bleeding, or at least slows it,” Alfredo murmured, popping the kit open and breathing out an audible sigh of relief when he saw that it was fully stocked. “Thank the stars,” he breathed, almost smiling as he grabbed a roll of gauze and began to wrap up Trevor’s arm. He was silent as he worked, faltering when the other spoke up. 

“Can we please talk?” he asked softly, eyes meeting Alfredo’s when he looked up. “I’d really like something else to focus on other than the pain.” 

“I thought you were mad at me?”

“I was… I am, but… I’d still rather talk than sit in silence.”

“Oh.” He continued to wrap his arm, securing it with some tape once he was done. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Anything. Something. I really don’t care.” He held his arm to his chest, cradling it in an effort to soothe the pain. 

“Well, how’d you become in charge of your own ship?” Alfredo asked, settling in beside him and leaning against the crate as he began to rummage through the medkit. 

Trevor chuckled quietly, turning his head to look over at the other. “Now that is a very long story, but… I guess we’ve got the time.” He checked his watch, taking a deep breath. “I worked on a lot of ships that treated their crews like shit. Treated their ships like shit too, honestly. I bailed on one before my contract was up once I had enough credits saved up, hid at one of the starports until they stopped searching for me, and then… I bought a ship of my own. It was small at first, real small. Couldn’t do much with it, couldn’t really go anywhere with it either, but I managed to swing a few small jobs.” He stared off into the distance as he spoke, looking out the small port windows at the stars outside the ship. It had been a while since he’d thought about any of this, even longer since he’d talked about it, but there was a fond smile as he did. “I don’t miss any of the bullshit at the start.”

Alfredo listened intently, a small stack of things from the kit forming in front of him. More gauze, disinfectant, rags, a suture and thread. He wasn’t really thrilled about the prospect of stitching up Trevor, but those wounds were so deep that something more needed to be done. “I don’t think anyone here misses the bullshit at the start. I sure had my fair share.” 

“How did you get started, then?”

“I used to be a pilot back on Earth. I was good at my job, really good, so they bumped me up to piloting shuttles between the colonies. After a while, I guess I got sick of seeing the same places over and over again,” he explained, letting out a soft ‘a ha!’ as he pulled a bottle of painkillers from the bottom of the kit. “Lotta ships need good pilots, and they paid better than the other gig, so I jumped ship, so to speak.” Shaking out a few pills, he passed them to Trevor who swallowed them down dry with a grimace. Anything to help the pain. “Never really wanted to own my ship, seemed like too much work, but… I was cool with piloting them. I get paid to see space, how cool is that?”

“It is a lot of work,” he agreed, still trying to get the pills down. “Sometimes, it’s too much work. But at the end of the day, it’s all worth it.” 

Alfredo was quiet for a few long moments, the silence hanging heavy between them. “Will this be worth it?” 

“Yes.” Trevor didn’t need to think about his answer as much as Alfredo had needed to think about his question. “Absolutely. You seem surprised.”

“But you got hurt. That thing could have killed you!”

“But it’s still in the cargo bay, and it didn’t hurt anyone in my crew. Better me than anyone else.” His crew was his family, and if he had to get hurt to keep them safe, so be it. It was a small price he was willing to pay. 

Alfredo scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t get you.”

“What?”

“No commander gives this much of a shit about their crew.” No captain gave their crew an equal cut, they always took more for themselves. No captain would sacrifice themself for their crew, they always forced their crew to do the sacrificing for them. No captain would adopt a broken AI like one would a stray cat. It just didn’t happen. “Not a single one. I’ve been trying to figure out your game from the start, and I just… I can’t.” The laughing only added to his confusion. 

“I know. No other commander does, but I do. And you’re gonna have to get used to it, Alfredo. All those assholes on the other side of the door are my family, and I’d sooner die for them than let anything bad happen to them,” he stated firmly, making sure the other was looking at him and meeting his eyes as he spoke. “There’s no game, no ulterior motive. You’re part of that family now too, so you’re just gonna have to learn to live with it.”

It had been a long time since Alfredo had been a part of any family, since anyone had accepted him so completely so quickly. While he didn’t fully trust Trevor just yet, he trusted him more than he had a few minutes ago. “Alright. I’ll learn to live with it.”

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

Alfredo was silent as he worked to stitch up Trevor’s arm, hands steady as he did so. He’d spent some time cleaning up the now dried blood, disinfecting the wounds and getting a better look at them. Some of the cuts were only surface wounds, already scabbed over and barely noticeable, but others were pretty gruesome. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to freak Trevor out, but he was pretty sure that he could see bone in a few of them. “Michael’s gonna have to redo these, but they’ll hold for now,” he murmured, tying off the last one and bandaging him up again before things got too bloody again. 

“How bad am I, doc? Am I gonna make it?” Trevor asked, really glad that he’d taken some more painkillers because he couldn’t imagine all of those stitches would feel great in a few minutes. 

“Yeah,” Alfredo said with a soft smile, taping down the end of the gauze. “You’ll make it.” I hope. 

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

As hour six rolled around, the comms hissed with static and a few musical beeps, surprising Alfredo and making him lift his head. He and Trevor had decided that sleeping was a pretty good way to kill time, so the commander had ended up fast asleep and slumped with his head on Alfredo’s shoulder. The other man hadn’t been so lucky, wide awake and checking every few minutes to make sure that he hadn’t gone and died on him. 

“Lindsay?” he asked softly, hoping they’d see the situation and match his tone. 

“Alfredo! What the hell happened?” They could see everything the second their cameras were back online: The broken vent grate, the vines coming out of the grate, the severed tendrils on the floor, the puddle and trail of brown dried blood leading to Alfredo and a very injured Trevor. “Is he… He’s not dead, is he?”

“No, he’s alive. We found the plant, and it… It got him good,” he explained, tipping his head forward to make sure Trevor was still asleep. “I patched him up, but… He’s gonna need a lot more than some stitches.”

“I’ll get Michael to come down-”

“No,” he stated, and Lindsay let out a soft scoff of indignation. “No one else comes down here. If you lift the lockdown, that thing’ll get free run of the station through the vents. We’ll be fine… We’ve got food and water, this kit’s got enough supplies to last us, and… I think as long as we leave it alone, it’ll leave us alone.” 

Lindsay hummed as they scanned the room. The plants in the crates had calmed down a little bit, and as far as they could tell the one in the vents was perfectly still, only shifting every now and then but not making any grand movements. “What should we do, then?”

“Make sure everyone else evacuates the ship the second we touch down and send Michael down here with a flamethrower. We’ll take a bit of a hit to our pay because we’ll be short a crate, but I don’t care. I want that thing dead.” 

“I’m sure the commander feels the same way… Are you sure he’s gonna be okay?” They asked, dimming the lights a little. If it was dark, the plants would probably stay calmer. It would make sleeping a little easier for the pair as well. 

Alfredo bit his lip, shrugging a shoulder before shaking his head. “No, but I’m trying to be optimistic.” He leaned his head back against the crate and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief he’d been holding for far too long. With Lindsay back, it meant he wasn’t alone. There was a buffer between him and the commander, someone to help fill the silence. 

They were quiet for a few minutes as they relayed information to the rest of the crew, before the comms crackled in the hold once more. “You should try and sleep too, ‘Fredo. Now that we know where it is, I can keep an eye on it.” 

“No, I gotta make sure he’s still breathing.”

“I can keep an eye on him too. The crates are quiet, so all my sensors are in working order. His heart rate is normal, if a bit weak, but he’s breathing fine. You should rest.”

He didn’t really have the energy to argue with them further, so he relented. “Wake us in a few hours. I’m gonna have to change his bandages and clean those wounds. Michael’ll kill me if I let those get infected.”

“Yes, he will.”

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

As hour twelve rolled around, Lindsay brightened the lights slowly and chimed softly to wake the pilot and the commander. They hoped that the plants wouldn’t be disturbed as well, but considering how long it took the pair to wake up, they weren’t really too concerned. 

“Trevor,” Alfredo said softly, jostling him gently with his shoulder. His ass and his neck ached from sleeping on the hard metal floor in such an awkward position, and he was sure that the other man would need another round of painkillers too. “Trevor, c’mon man. Wake up.” 

He did so with great reluctance, groaning softly as he registered several different aches and pains. “Was this really necessary?”

“Yeah, it was. Gotta change your bandages so Michael won’t have to cut off your arm,” he said, encouraging him to sit up before reaching for the supplies in front of him. “Or my head.”

Trevor laughed softly, starting to stretch his arms out over his head before he stopped short, wincing and clutching his bandaged arm to his chest. “Fuck… I thought that was a dream,” he muttered, eyes squeezed shut. 

“I wish it was,” Alfredo sighed, “But while you were sleeping, we got Lindsay back. So that’s good, at least. Told them everything. They wanted to send Michael down here, but I told them not to.”

“And why the hell did you do that?” Trevor winced as Alfredo started to unwrap the gauze. Despite how careful he was being, it still pulled at the cuts uncomfortably. 

“Because,” he started, murmuring an apology when he saw him wince and trying to go slower. “If the lockdown gets lifted, that thing can go through the vents and go anywhere it wants, which is bad.”

Trevor hummed in agreement, but it was reluctant. He didn’t like knowing Alfredo had been giving orders while he’d been asleep, even if they were the same ones he would’ve given. “What’d you tell them to do, then?”

“Keep the lockdown going, evacuate everyone once we land, and then send Michael down here. With a flamethrower.”

“Good thinking.”

“Why, thank you.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence then, Alfredo removing the last of the gauze and cleaning up his arm. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, so now it was just a focus on preventing infection, which he hoped would be easy enough. It would be even easier once they got back on solid ground, when Michael could actually get in here and kill the thing. Bullets probably wouldn’t do the trick, they’d just piss Gavin off by causing damage to the ship, but fire was pretty damn effective in every circumstance. 

“Lindsay?” Trevor called softly, feeling instantly comforted when he heard their voice over the speakers. “Where is the thing? Still in the vent?”

“Yep. Still in the vent. It’s almost cute like this, even if it did try to eat you.”

“It didn’t… It didn’t try to eat me.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, commander. Oh, and Matt would like me to tell you that he thinks it’s hilarious you got your ass kicked by a plant.”

Trevor huffed, rolling his eyes and sinking back against the crates. Even when he was isolated from his crew, they still found a way to pester him. 

Beside him, Alfredo shrugged off his jacket, flipping it inside out so the soft lining was visible before balling it up. “You should get some more rest,” he said as he held it out to Trevor. “It’s not much, but it’ll be better for your neck than the crate.”

He hesitated a moment before taking it, sinking right down to the floor to lay flat since he had a pillow now. “It’s weird seeing you without your jacket on.” Alfredo had been wearing it from the moment he’d met him until now, he hadn’t seen him with it off once. 

“He even wears it to bed,” Lindsay piped up, laughing as Alfredo’s face went as red as the leather. 

“I do not!” He shouted defensively, glaring up at the ceiling.  “It’s just part of my style, that’s all.” 

“Relax,” Trevor chuckled, reaching out blindly to pat Alfredo’s arm. He missed and hit leg instead, but neither of them said anything. “I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s a good style, I like it.” He turned his head, looking up at Alfredo with a small smile. 

The other couldn’t help but smile back, getting comfortable against the box behind him. He didn’t know why that compliment made him feel so warm, but he was lucky that his face was already red from Lindsay’s teasing so it didn’t give him away. “Thanks, Trev.”

“Anytime, Fredo.” 

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

The hours rolled by easily, the pair spending most of them asleep because there wasn’t much else to do. They woke up a few times so Alfredo could change the bandages, munching on some rations at one point since the last meal they’d had was breakfast that morning. Chatting with Lindsay was another good way to pass the time, too. They were able to keep the crew updated on the situation down in the hold, and keep the commander updated on things going on on the other side of the door. There wasn’t much going on, just a lot of worry, but Trevor still didn’t want to be out of the loop. 

Once they’d slept as much as they could and talked to Lindsay until there was nothing more to talk about, they decided to do the only thing they could to pass the final few hours before the ship landed: Talk to each other. 

“You said you used to work on Earth. What was that like?” Trevor asked, looking down at Alfredo. They swapped who got to use the jacket-pillow every couple of hours, and since they weren’t going to be sleeping anymore Trevor had decided to surrender it back to its original owner (even though it was still technically his turn for another thirty minutes). 

“You’ve never been?” he asked, sticking an arm beneath his head to prop himself up as he looked back at the commander, who shook his head. “I mean, it was fine? I guess? Kinda boring compared to space. The sky was always the same, and there were way too many people. Have you seriously never been to Earth?”

“No, I grew up out in the Terra 2 colony. Then I got sucked up into a spacer crew, and that was it. Never saw any reason to go once I got the Morrigan, and now without a warp drive we’re too far out.”

“I’m shocked a job hasn’t taken you there, people there are always looking for stuff smuggled in from the far reaches,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Customs was a bitch to get by, but he still had a few buddies down there who’d be willing to let them through. He was sure of it. “Once we get that drive, we’ll pick up a few jobs that’ll take us there.”

“Whatever you say, man. But you didn’t exactly make it sound worth the hype.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely not, but still. I can’t believe you’ve never been!” 

Talking to Trevor was a lot easier than it had been before. He wasn’t as scared of him, and a lot of the distrust had faded. The feeling was mutual, as well. The commander wasn’t angry at Alfredo anymore, because ultimately, none of this was his fault. He was the one who hadn’t checked in on the cargo sooner, he was the one who’d startled the monster, all of this fell on his shoulders because it was his ship and he was responsible for everything that happened on it.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor said out of nowhere, almost startling Alfredo with the suddenness of it. “I’m sorry I blamed all this on you.”

“It’s fine.” He hadn’t been expecting an apology from the commander. Maybe a month or two on bathroom cleaning duty, sure, but not an apology. “We both had our fuckups in this mess.”

“We did, but it’s unfair to blame the whole thing on you. Most of it, sure?” Alfredo cut him a look, and he just laughed. “Kidding. I’m kidding! Don’t give me that. It’s really more like… Fifty/fifty.”

“Sixty/forty. You’re the sixty.”

“Yeah, okay. Fair enough.” 

They grinned at each other, oblivious to the way the ship began to creak and groan around them as Lindsay initiated the landing sequence. The plants in the crates kicked up again, but the one in the vents was still. 

“You know what? You’re alright, Fredo. Gavin was right about you.” 

Alfredo’s face matched his jacket all over again, and he had to fight hard to get the words out despite how flustered he was. Trevor hadn’t called him by any sort of nickname until now, it made him feel good to know that the commander was finally warming up to him. “What… What did he say about me, exactly?”

“That you were the best of the best. And he was right. Normally he’s not right about these things, but… He nailed it with you.”

“You sure you’re not still woozy from blood loss?” Alfredo asked, arching an eyebrow as he sat up, meeting Trevor’s eyes. “Because I know we just did that whole heartfelt apology thing, but… I definitely almost got you killed.”

He shook his head fervently. “No, you didn’t. You saved my life.” 

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you die.” 

“And I owe you big time for that.”

The ship jostled as it landed on uneven earth, and Alfredo grabbed onto Trevor quickly to prevent him from sliding around with the crates around them. Even as things settled, he didn’t let go, hearing something hiss in annoyance from the far end of the cargo hold. 

“Lindsay… Please tell us Michael’s on his way,” Trevor said, sinking back into the pilot in an effort to hide as he scrambled to grab the harpoon gun. 

“He’s outside the door, we’re just waiting for everyone to be off the ship so I can lift the lockdown. I suggest staying out of his way… He’s been wanting to use that thing for the last eighteen hours, and I don’t think anything’s gonna get in his way.”

“If he dies, Alfredo’s the new medical officer.”

“Noted.”

Using a flamethrower while they were in flight was unwise because of the oxygen rich environment, but back on terra firma it was the perfect weapon for dealing with unruly plant monsters. Michael’s cackles of delight echoed off the walls, mixing with the roar of the weapon and the shrieks of the plant as it burned. The noises kicked off another escape attempt in the other crates, but the reinforcements they’d made held firm. Only a few crates of supplies got caught up in the crossfire, and Michael was relatively unharmed aside from the ash staining his lab coat. 

Alfredo let the harpoon drop from his hands once he realized he wouldn’t be needing it, instead helping Trevor to his feet and keeping him steady as they made their way to the bay doors. “Michael,” he said, watching as the man kept scorching the charred remains. “Michael!” He stopped firing quickly, whirling around with wide eyes. “Stop dicking around, Trevor needs help.” 

“A thank you would’ve been nice,” Michael muttered as he dropped the weapon, knowing he’d need his hands free to help Trevor. 

“Thank you, Michael. Now help him, please?”

“Yeah, yeah. Lindsay told me that you were trying to steal my job, I just hope you didn’t make things worse,” he said as he swapped places with Alfredo, supporting Trevor’s weight to make sure he wouldn’t fall. “Alright, Trevor-boy, let’s get you to the infirmary.” He started to lead him out of the cargo hold, and Alfredo watched them go for a second before turning to start cleaning the mess they’d left behind up. 

Trevor stopped after a few paces, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re not coming?” he asked, the smallest hint of a frown etched into his features. 

“Uh.” Alfredo blinked, not sure how to answer. “No?”

“Yes, you are. C’mon.”

“Why?”

“I need someone there for moral support. Michael’s not as gentle as you are and I need someone’s hand to hold while he patches me up.” Trevor cracked a grin despite the fact that he wasn’t telling a joke, and Alfredo mirrored the expression after a moment to process exactly what he’d said. “Come on, I don’t have all day,” he insisted, holding out his hand towards him as Michael began to pull him along. 

Alfredo jogged to catch up to them, abandoning the task at hand in favor of taking Trevor’s hand. He was happy to have escaped the cargo bay alive, and even happier to know that he was back in the commander’s good graces. Their relationship was different, stronger and a lot friendlier than it had been now that they were no longer wary of each other. Trevor couldn’t think of a single member of the crew that he would’ve rather gone through that ordeal with, either. 

“Thanks for not letting the boss die, Fredo,” Michael said, cutting into the silence once they reached the infirmary. 

“Yeah, thanks for not letting me die, Fredo,” Trevor agreed, smiling kindly at him and giving his hand a squeeze. 

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

[deniigi]

i have been sick in bed with a stomach bug and re-reading a bunch of your series and these questions have plagued me so pls, for the sake of your fellow samuel chung lover, if sammy was in the Selkie verse, would he be a fae? if so, what kind? ALSO, what would his interactions with jack be like (either in the selkie verse or in the lying by omission verse)? pls and thanks <3

hi!

I’ll answer asks in a bit, but for this one I have a fic that explore a What If Jack Lived/Mike existed scenario with Sam in the Inimitable verse? I know it’s now what you asked for, but it is like 4k already written so that might be smth--an LBO Sam would be tricky because Sam would be itty bitty and Matt wouldn’t have the same kind of relationship with him.

As for selkie-verse Sam? I would have to do more research on Chinese spirts/fae/folklore, but for now, he’s not fae, just human 💖He’s like 12 and can make himself invisible though, which would be very confusing for Sue if she ever bumped into him

(Sue: baby boggart??? come here I love you I will look after you.)

(Sam: please stay exactly 5037 feet away from me! Thank you and I’m calling my mom!)

Here is the What If Jack and Mike thing from the Inimitable Verse.

Jack Murdock was the size of a house. He made Matt look dainty. He made Kirsten look like a kids’ mannequin. And he made Foggy laugh until he wept.

Sam could not understand a goddamn thing he said. Nor could he understand the guy he’d brought with him, who appeared to have had some serious plastic surgery to look exactly like Matt.

Sam could take an unintelligible giant. What he couldn’t take was an unintelligible Matt, and before him, somehow, in this ring of ginger, he’d been presented with two unintellible Matts.

His head was spinning.

Kirsten patted at him sympathetically.

“I’m from New York,” Sam told her mournfully.

“I know, hon.”

“How is this even possible? You’re from New York. How are they—what are they saying?”

Kirsten shook her head.

“Only Foggy knows,” she said. “It’s okay, he’ll translate when he gets back up.”

 --

 Mr. Murdock, the tallest of the gingers, might have been a good three to four inches taller than his boys, and he might have had the biggest hands that Sam had ever had the opportunity to touch in his life, but he was really nothing but a big, shaggy sheep dog.

The reasons Sam couldn’t understand a single fucking word he said came threefold.

1) Mr. Murdock had grown up in mid-century Hell’s Kitchen. That was just how accents from those parts used to sound. They’d lightened with time.

2) He had an extra layer of what Matt called a ‘brogue.’ He was first-generation American. Both his folks had immigrated from Ireland. He talked halfway between the way they talked and the way that the kids in his neighborhood growing up had.

And 3) The man had a lisp?

It wasn’t super noticeable. Sam sure as shit couldn’t hear it among the other layers of stuff going on, but Foggy said it was there.

Apparently, it came out more when he was anxious.

Apparently, he was anxious a lot.

Foggy told Sam to just give it an hour and he’d understand.

 --

  “So your name is Sam?” Mr. Murdock asked him while Sam tried to keep his mouth from falling open.

Matt was holding his facial-copy-cat against the wall by his lapels. The copy-cat had started making kissy noises at him. He egged Matt on to punch him right in the face.  

No one was stopping them.  

Kirsten cleared her throat and brought Sam back down to earth.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sam. Mr., uh—”

“Call me Jack.”

Never.

“Matty hasn’t said much about you, sorry to say.” Mr. Murdock explained. The more he spoke directly to Sam, the more Sam found, to his relief, that he could understand him. “He don’t like sharin’ things his brother can get ahold of and take from ‘im.”

Sam looked from him to the ‘brother.’

“There’s two of them?” he asked.

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“God help us, every one,” he huffed.

You can say that again.

“How long has there been two?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“Mm? Oh, uh. Christ with the math,” Mr. Murdock said, “Michael—Michael—boy, you knock that off; that’s how you lose teeth—how old are you now?”

Nevermind. Sam didn’t need to know.

“I’m ageless, Pops, remember?” ‘Michael’ said, grinning at Matt’s sneer in his face, “Everlasting, never dying. Immortal. Timeless. I’m—” Dude got the wind knocked out his sails from Matt aiming for his solar plexus instead of his face.

“Maitiú,” Mr. Murdock said sharply. “He’s your brother.”

“He earned it,” Matt snapped back at his dad. “You said ‘no teeth,’ I ain’t even touched his goddamn teeth.”

“No, you coward, you wouldn’t, would you?” Michael threw back at Matt with no sense in his head. “You scared of gettin’ stuck on all that metal, huh?”

“I ain’t got my tetanus booster,” Matt deadpanned.

“Oh, get the yellow fever one next time, it’s a hoot—”

“I’m mailing you back to Thailand in a crate.”

“Oh mail me, why don’t you?”

“I’m gonna.”

“Boys,” Mr. Murdock said, exasperated. “Knock it off. You love each other. We get it.”

Kirsten shook with giggles.

“I’d drown you in the open ocean and then kill myself,” Matt said through gritted teeth. His nose was maybe an inch from his brother’s.

Michael just beamed.

“Aw, babe. You’d do that for me?” he gushed.

“HHhhh—”

“Maitiú.”

Sam had never heard someone said ‘Matthew’ this way. It was delightful. It made Matt’s shoulders go stiff as a board and then squirm in barely contained fury.

“Thank you,” Mr. Murdock said. “Drop ‘im.”

Matt didn’t want to, but he released his grip on his sibling. Michael slipped down and then caught himself and straightened himself out.

“Well, I’ll never,” he said. “We come all this way to visit you on your deathbed and—”

“I’m not dying,” Matt said.

“—you worry Dad sick for months on end. Don’t call. Don’t write. He thought the Californians had eaten you—"

“—I told him that it was a dislocation and I’m fine—”

“—and of course I told him, ‘no Dad, there ain’t any more cannibals in California than there are in New York’ but who listens to Mike, huh?”

Mr. Murdock had only been in the house for 15 minutes and he already looked exhausted.

“Where are the dogs?” he asked Foggy.

 ---

 This was the weirdest time-out session Sam had ever experienced and he’d decided that he was living for it. Mr. Murdock went out onto the deck and locked himself out there with the dogs. Matt and his brother had never been more guilty.

Quickly the arguing turned towards scheming, which turned towards climbing out a window, which turned towards getting stuck on the roof and pleading with the Father to lend a hand.

Mr. Murdock observed Matt sobbing with laughter over Mike’s sudden anxiety of stepping from the roof to the deck’s arm railing with only hollowness.

“Mike’s not very super,” Sam pointed out to Kirsten.

“Nope,” she said brightly. “He is refreshingly normal,” she said. “Even the conman part.”

The what?

 ---

 Matt climbed off the roof with ease and took the opportunity to finally give his old man a hug, which Mr. Murdock seemed to appreciate. He smoothed a giant mitt of a hand through Matt’s hair tenderly, like he was a baby.

It was kind of cute.

Mike scowled at them both and announced that he was pretty fine, by the way. He’d just stay there on the roof until the vultures got him.

“Matt’s the younger twin,” Foggy told Sam cheerfully. “He can do no wrong.”

Sam felt like he could suddenly see the forest for the trees.

“And Mike?” he asked.

Foggy snickered.

“He and Jack live together to keep each other in good cardiac shape,” he said. “They drive each other nuts.”

“But they still live together?” Sam clarified.

“Yeah,” Foggy said. “Mike’s what happens when you give a used-car salesman ever so slightly too much brain. He travels all over. Gets shot at and held hostage a lot. He’ll do just about anything for a couple bucks, no matter how hard Jack’s tried to get him to go straight over the years.”

“And Mr. Murdock? He doesn’t mind his son living with him?” Sam asked.

Kirsten and Foggy softened.

“Matt used to check on him more when we lived back home,” Foggy said. “Without him and Mike, Jack’s by himself. He’s got friends and work, yeah, but you know. If it weren’t for Mike, he’d come home to an empty apartment every night. Man’s got too much head trauma for that to be any kind of good. Mike looks after him—probably more than he lets anyone else. He’s too stubborn to let Matt try to help him.”

Aw, cute.

“Be prepared, Sammy,” Foggy said. “Jack’s already adopted you.”

Say what now?

 ---

 Mr. Murdock didn’t outright say that Sam was puny and he was going to fix it, but Sam could see it in his disappointed gaze.

“Don’t like bread?” he asked as Sam chewed his way through an Uncrustable at the kitchen table. Sam froze with the sandwich in hand. He stared at it.

It was bread.

Surely, this was bread.

Right?

“Uh?” he tried.

“Don’t like the crusts?” Mr. Murdock asked him more gently.

Oh.

“I don’t mind them, these are premade though. You know, convenient,” Sam explained.

He got a stare impossible to read.

“Stay there,” Mr. Murdock decided.

It took too long for Sam’s brain to work out what had just happened, and by the time it had, it was too late. Matt stuck his head in the room and asked Sam why he’d told his dad that Matt was starving him.

Sam floundered and tried to explain the sandwiches. Matt absorbed this and rolled his whole head.

“Well, now he’s makin’ a week’s worth for you,” he sighed. “Wants you to eat the crust.”

Dude.

“It’s easier not to question it,” Matt sighed. “What kind of jelly do you want?”

 ---

 Matt didn’t interrogate his father, but Mike did. Unrepentantly. He walked in as Sam was emphasizing that he didn’t want any kind of jelly and he’d make his own sandwiches and understood the entire situation faster than Sam could have possibly explained it.

“FATHER,” he roared. “Leave the boy alone, he’s not starvin’, he’s just short.”

Flattering. Thanks, asshole.

There was no response from the kitchen. Matt told Mike to ease off. Mr. Murdock was trying to be nice.

“There’s nice and then there’s rude,” Mike said.

“And you’re rude?” Matt offered.

There was a pause.

A warm hand found the space in between Sam’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry about both of ‘em, kid, they got rocks for brains, it ain’t their fault. Our grandfather was a caveman, you know how it is,” Mike said kindly.

Matt was not amused.

“It’s not a big deal,” he repeated. “I’ll eat ‘em if Sam doesn’t want ‘em.”

“And subject yourself to peanut butter hell for multiple days in a row, Maitiú?” Mike asked, scandalized.

Matt glared in the direction of the stairs.

“Some of us enjoy nut protein,” he said.

Sam blinked in shock as big hands slapped themselves over his ears.

“There are children present,” Mike hissed.

Sam found the guy’s middle fingers and yanked. Mike swore. Matt chuckled.

“He ain’t a baby,” he said fondly. “Sam’s a tough cookie.”

You’re damn right he was.

“Charming,” Mike grumbled as Matt abandoned them for the kitchen again. He scowled down at Sam. “What’s your gimmick then?” he asked.

Sam wondered if he could make his contacts come out by blinking slowly enough. It would be cool as fuck. It definitely wasn’t happening.

“I control typhoons,” he said.

Mike winced.

“Fuckin’ vigilantes,” he said.

 ---

 Mr. Murdock gave Sam a second sandwich. He’d cut it into quarters.

“Matt says you don’t like jelly,” he said. “Bananas are better?”

Sam couldn’t help but like him.

“Yeah. I don’t eat much bread generally,” he said. “My family has always been more about rice.”

Mr. Murdock analyzed him.

“I can do rice,” he said.

Bless. It was okay, really.

“Do you like spicy things, Mr. Murdock?” Sam asked.

“Jack.”

Nice try.

“Spicy?” Sam repeated.

Mr. Murdock considered it.

“Not sure,” he said. “You mean like hot sauce? I ain’t fuck with that ghost pepper shit.”

Sam hummed.

“Before you leave, I’ll cook for you in return,” he said. “I won’t make it too spicy, cross my heart.”

Mr. Murdock considered this and then got a look in his eye that made Sam’s cheeks start to ache a little.

 ---

 Matt told Sam to play nice. Matt told his father to play nice.

There was to be no hiding chilis in Mike’s pasta.

They were caught and scolded.

“Not to worry,” Mr. Murdock told Sam fondly, “There are other ways.”

 ---

 Sam had never seen such outrage over a knot in a shoelace. Matt crossed his arms over his chest, seconds away from tapping his own foot.

“You said you were ready,” he reminded Mike for the fourth time.

“I know what I said,” Mike snapped at him. He’d dug through all the kitchen drawers to procure a metal skewer to apply to this situation.

“We’re going to be late,” Matt said. “I wait for my guide, she doesn’t wait for me.”

“Well she’s waitin’ today,” Mike said. “I swear to god—”

Mr. Murdock stroked the top of Tuesday’s head and asked Mike if he’d tried putting baby powder on it. Mike spat at him to mind his own business and went back to the knot. He managed it get it untangled and the shoe half on just in time to find the second one stuck in the third hole down.

He just about vibrated with fury.

Matt sighed loudly.

“Borrow mine already,” he said.

“Never.”

“Mike.”

“They’re blue. This outfit tolerates only warm colors, Matthew. ONLY warms.”

“We’re late.”

“Style waits for no man.”

“Well, clearly that ain’t the case, is it?”

Mike stood up sharply.

“I’m going to change,” he said. “And whatever elf tied these will rue the day. Mark my words.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll tell the elf—oh, my bad, the clown, Mike. It’s you. Get your life together. We’re late.”

Hilarious.

 ---

  “Why don’t you move out here?” Sam asked Mr. Murdock as he watched Sam sand away at his latest secret project in Matt’s absence.

“Sun’ll kill me,” Mr. Murdock deadpanned.

“I thought so too, but it’s not so bad,” Sam said. “I miss the snow sometimes.”

Mr. Murdock cocked his head and then knelt down to take the sanding block out of Sam’s hands. He gestured for Sam to give him the hunk of wood in his hands, too.

“Matty says you don’t got papers,” he said.

Sam was surprised. Matt usually kept that secret locked tight. But Mr. Murdock didn’t seem to have any adverse reaction to it.

“No,” Sam admitted. “My mom brought me here when I was really little. I didn’t know what it meant to overstay a visa.”

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“Makes flying tricky,” he said.

Yeah.

“Bus, not too bad, though?”

Mm. Bus was better, yes.

“Train?”

Depended on the train.

“Hm. Well, if you get homesick or need busfare, you just give a shout, ya hear? You’re always welcome to stay with us.”

Aww.

“Or if you really hate yourself, I’m sure Mike would love to come pick you up.”

Oh god.

“He can drive?” Sam asked.

Mr. Murdock paused and held his face in his dusty palm.

“The day he got his license was the worst day of my life,” he said.

Sam snickered.

“Did you guys drive all the way here?” he asked.

“No, thank god.”

“Can you drive?”

“Son.”

Sam looked up from the block of wood into Mr. Murdock’s hazel eyes.

“I take two steps out of New York and I’m gone, that’s me dead. No, I don’t drive. Why the hell would I drive? Where the hell am I goin’?”

Wow, mood.

“I tried to drive once,” Sam said. “Reversed into a fire hydrant. Matt laughed so hard he cried.”

Mr. Murdock handed back the woodblock. It was much smoother than it had been. Sam was chocking that up to the muscles and the practice.

 ---

 Matt and Mike got home and Mike announced that he was disowning that ‘putrid being’ that was the Swamp Monster beside him. Matt told Mr. Murdock that Mike didn’t approve of the swimming part of triathlon.

Mr. Murdock picked leaves out of his hair with supreme patience.

 ---

 “So Dad’s officially decided that you’re his grandson,” Mike informed Sam out of nowhere that Sunday. “He prayed for you at church today.”

Sam almost dropped his wrench. That was so endearing his teeth hurt.

“It’s ‘cause I do woodwork,” he said. “He can smell the handyman on me.”

Mike cocked his head to the side. His eyes were blue like Matt’s. Their mom must have had blue eyes—or maybe hazel like Mr. Murdock’s.

“No,” Mike said. “It’s ‘cause he’s also been a grocery bagger, a janitor, and a contractor.”

He what now?

“He wants to know why you aren’t in college.”

Oh. well—

“Matt tried to explain, but you know, it ain’t clickin’. He don’t get the politics part of things sometimes. Gets confused why people make such a big deal when there’s obvious solutions in front of ‘em. It’s not all his fault, he barely got a highschool diploma back when ‘critical thinking’ wasn’t even a testing category. Anyways, he wants you to go to college. Thinks you’re too smart to be pushin’ paper.”

Sam was going to cry.

“I think he sees a lot of Matt in you,” Mike said with a squint. “So just as a warning, he’s unbearable. Always—well, no. More like 95% of the year. He’s alright around New Years when he’s tired. You can tell him to fuck off at any time, though.”

No, no. It was okay. It was nice to have…more family. That’s what it was.

“I hope you know what this means, Samuel,” Mike said.

Mmm no?

Mike’s hand clasped his shoulder.

“You can call me ‘uncle,’” he said.

Ah.

No, thanks.

 ---

 Foggy and Kirsten couldn’t look at Sam without bursting into merciless laughter, which Sam had realized was a result of Mike’s vocal distress at his rejected offer of uncle-dom. Sam didn’t know what to tell him.

Mr. Murdock was nice. Enormous, yes, but very well meaning and gentle. His and Sam’s priorities and experience in life aligned neatly and Sam was slightly charmed by the way that he expressed himself verbally only to Matt and Mike.

Sam also didn’t hate Mike. He just didn’t want him to have uncle privileges. He didn’t see what was difficult about this.

“Mike’s got a history of rejection,” Foggy said. “And by that, I mean that every woman on the eastern seaboard has rejected him and he tries anyways.”

 ---

 Matt came downstairs and told Sam to ignore everything Mike said to him all day. He also said that they were going out that night, so don’t burn fingers on the soldering iron.

Sam saluted in acknowledgement.

Forty minutes later there was a rap at his door followed by Mike saying through it that he wanted to show Sam something.

Sam did not open the door.

He heard Matt’s name being cursed on the other side.

 ---

 Twenty minutes later there was another knock, this time with Mike saying that Mr. Murdock wanted to bond with Sam.

Sam nudged open his curtains and squinted hard into the backyard where he could see the vague shape of Matt chatting to his dad on the deck stairs, both apparently having a beer and shooting the shit.

This was a scam.

Sam would not be scammed.

He went back to the suit.

There was more cursing outside the door.

 ---

 About half an hour later, there was a knock, followed by Mr. Murdock’s voice this time, asking Sam if his shoes were supposed to be on the front porch.

They were not.

This was playing dirty.

Sam ventured out to go right this wrong and ended up outside on the front porch with the conman himself. Mike closed the door after him triumphantly and proceeded to get them both locked out.

“Are you supposed to be a good conman or?” Sam asked.

Mike gaped at him.

“The best conman,” he said. “Don’t worry, kid, I’ve broken into a thousand houses and won two horses. I’ve got this.”

That was not comforting. Sam was not comforted.

“First, we gotta test all the windows, and, failing that, we get a rock or a gun,” Mike told him with a knowing finger.

Sam blinked at it and then up at Mike. The man’s shoulders twitched.

“Uh?” Mike said.

Ah. The eyes. No contacts today.

“Do you like them? They’re Prada,” Sam said to absolute silence.

“A brick,” Mike announced abruptly. “A brick works too. Like a rock but bigger.”

Okay, so they weren’t talking about it, gotcha. Look, a whole family’s worth of repression styles. Sam was glad that they had a full set of methods.

 ---

 Sam broke into his own bedroom through the window. Mike clapped for him outside. Sam opted to leave him there.

 ---

 He was sort of sad to see the Murdocks go, especially after seeing the effect that the most senior of them had on Matt.

Sam hadn’t seen him this chilled out. He visibly relaxed under his dad’s hand on the back of his neck. He tolerated the fussing and constant hair fixing and the fingers brushing at his cheeks and elbows. Mr. Murdock guided him with the same practiced ease that Foggy and Kirsten did, but his guiding was accompanied by a quiet, ongoing commentary about the street around them, which Sam hadn’t actually heard Foggy do in the same kind of way.

It was like Mr. Murdock was telling Matt a story everywhere they went.

He told him when there were flags hanging up a story above, waving in the wind. He told him about the hanging wire baskets of flowers that Sam forgot about. He huffed a bit while he talked about lines of traffic in the street and a vast lack of color in the group due to the absence of so many yellow cabs.

Mr. Murdock of course, had been Matt’s first ever guide. It only made sense that he had a specialized style of it, just for Matt.

And for Matt’s sake, Sam didn’t want him to go, but alas, New Yorkers, man. The city called them back to the coast like a siren.

“You take it easy, y’hear, kiddo?” Mr. Murdock told him at the airport.

Sam smiled and said that he’d try.

“Take care of yourself. I mean that. Out at night too.”

Copy that, big guy.

“Give us a hug.”

Oh??? A hug??? Sam loved hugs. Hugs were great. He was—er. Leaving this one with double the ribs from the cracks apparently.

Mr. Murdock released him to go break Matt in half and then Foggy and then Kirsten. Mike told him that he couldn’t avoid flying again by hugging people. He also warned Kirsten that he’d see her soon and that then, she was sure to fall for his charms.

Kirsten said that she would be waiting with bated breath, and then that was it. Three Murdocks again whittled down to one.

“God, I should have married your dad,” Foggy moaned.

Matt laughed at him.

“He’s plenty busy avoiding the gaze of every person over sixty in his building. Let him live,”  he said. “Sam? Not too traumatized, I hope?”

Mm. Not so bad.

“Are you sure Mike’s your brother?” he asked.

“Unfortunately.”

Too bad.

“It’s fine, if we ever need a guy to distract the police, we’ve got him on retainer.”

That was true.

“They’ll come back?” Sam asked.

Matt paused before feeling for his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said. “Or we’ll go to them. I think you’d enjoy watching them in their natural environment.”

 -----------

Hope that’s something for you anon!! I also hope you feel better!

[occasionalfics]

touch every star (1)

main masterlist | thor masterlist | ao3 | next

Pairing: Thor X Cinderella!Reader AU

A/N: So for whatever reason, I kind of finished this fic and then never ever shared it? Apparently I started writing this in November and never did anything with it, which is a shame because I actually really like it? So now I’m just going through, rereading to edit, and I’m giving y’all a treat since I can’t really remember the last time I actually posted a fic. Hope everyone likes it!

And seeing as how this is the first fic I’ve posted in a LONG time, I’m still not keeping up a taglist. I believe there’s a way for you to get notified when I post, should you want to do that.

Warnings: Lots of angst, a really, really shitty boss, but overall this is probably the most pure fic I’ve ever written?

Words: 2,960

//

She couldn’t believe she’d done it. After a full day of itemized lists of tasks way out of her paygrade, she’d finally finished them all. The blisters on her heels from her uncomfortable but required shoes would serve as a reminder that, for once, she’d managed to meet her boss’s ridiculous standards to a T.

Mr. Sitwell, the head of Accounting, was a ruthless, selfish man that everyone had warned Y/N about before she’d taken the job, but it paid more than the entry level HR job she’d taken when she’d first started. Four months later and, for the first time, she’d finally finished a list Sitwell had given her during work hours.

Only, when she looked at the clock on her desk, she realized that it definitely was not work hours. Well past 8pm. The office was dark and deserted except for her and the rustling of paperwork on her desk - her secretarial desk - was the only noise now that she stood still.

“Fuck,” she muttered, shutting her eyes. “God- Fuck that guy.”

When she opened her eyes, she looked up at Sitwell’s office. The door was closed, the lights shut off, even his computer was off for the night. Y/N was the last one in the office and she hadn’t even noticed. Three hours had gone by since she’d spoken to a human. Three hours of time she was sure Sitwell was going to dock her for.

She’d started working at Stark Industries because she’d heard Mr. Stark offered great benefits to his employees, and while she was technically one of them, Jasper Sitwell was directly above her. He was the worst kind of middleman, and to add insult to injury, he was the worst kind of boss.

His words echoed in her head as she thought about going higher, letting someone from her old department about his mistreatment.

I might not be Stark rich, but I have money. I have power. I have more here than you’ll ever have. I’d watch who you speak to if I were you.

Maybe she didn’t have an amazing job or a high position, but she had money she needed to support herself. She couldn’t do anything, at that moment, to risk the job and lose her income.

She was not going to move back home.

And rent was so god damn expensive.

Pursing her lips, she sighed to herself before gathering the papers on her desk into one pile. None of it was going home with her, now that she’d finished it all. She’d divy it up in the morning and give it to the right people when she could think straight again.

She pulled the strap of her purse up onto her shoulder and left the office, making sure to put in Sitwell’s code to lock it up.

The building was eerily silent around her. There were hundreds of offices from lobby to penthouse, and yet, the loudest sounds Y/N picked up on all came from outside. She was left with the horns of cars on the crowded New York streets and not much else as she waited for the elevator.

It wasn’t the first time she’d stayed this late. Just the first time she’d finished the whole list. Hopefully that would mean Sitwell would leave her alone first thing tomorrow morning, or at least acknowledge that she’d done every little thing he’d asked. Not likely, but she could hope anyway.

Somewhere down the hallway, someone moved. Their shadow followed them under the LED lights lining the hallway. Stark Tower wasn’t like most other office buildings she’d been in - instead of harsh fluorescents, every room was lit with either natural light during the day or LED bulbs after the sun went down. Normally, most people were gone before the lights went on.

Not Y/N. Not tonight.

And, apparently, not the person approaching her from down the hall.

They stopped beside her just before the elevator made it to their floor. She looked at them through the corner of her vision.

He was tall. Taller than she was, even in her heels. Taller than Sitwell for sure. And where her boss was bald and wore glasses, this man had perfectly styled dirty blonde hair and small but expressive eyes. She couldn’t see their hue from her position.

“Late night?” she heard herself asking the man. She hadn’t even known she’d had it in her to talk to a stranger after work hours, but apparently, him working on the same floor as her was enough to bridge whatever gap was between them.

He nodded as the elevator doors opened, then he held out an arm to signal he wanted her to go in before him. “Unfortunately, yes,” he said.

His voice was deep, a little tired, but not impolite. He sounded as attractive as he looked, and now that he was coming toward her, she got a better idea of just how handsome he was.

He was...like a God. Gorgeous. Sculpted. In a tan suit just a few shades darker than his golden skin. Eyes as blue as lightning, offset by a crisp white t-shirt under the blazer.

“Me too,” she whispered when he turned to stand next to her. The doors shut and the elevator descended.

They’d gone down a few floors before he turned to face her and asked, “If it’s alright, why’re you here so late?”

She hesitated, mostly because she couldn’t think of a reason as to why it wouldn’t be okay for him to ask. Other than him being a total stranger, of course.

But he was a Stark employee. A high ranking one if she was guessing based on his suit and shoes. He had to be safe, right? At least for a brief elevator ride?

“My boss left me a list of things he needed done today or else,” she said. Anything more might be...too much for tonight. “He’s very particular.”

The man nodded. “Sounds to me like he’s got a stick up his arse.”

She couldn’t not laugh at that, the sound reverberating around the elevator. He smiled, too, as if in reaction to her.

“You’re not wrong,” she told him, fighting not to roll her eyes. When she shifted her bag a bit, she stood taller and said, “It’s only fair that if you got to ask, I do too.”

The dinging of the passing floors was only a mild distraction while the man rolled his neck, stretching his arms up so they didn’t collide with her. “My boss is also a stickler for finishing tasks, it seems. But he, at least, still hasn’t left the building.” He chuckled at that, like she was supposed to be in on some kind of joke at his boss’s expense.

All she did was smile, since she didn’t know who his boss was.

“Bosses suck,” she offered.

He nodded again. “That they do.”

Neither of them thought of anything else to say, apparently. The elevator counted down each floor, and they both stared ahead at the doors, as if they were both suddenly desperate to get out.

She couldn’t say what had shifted between them, but now she felt it was too late to start up another conversation. She could have asked him his name or what office he actually worked in, but something in her head stopped her.

Something like the voice of the narrator on one of those late night crime shows her roommate Nat liked to watch. Some irrational fear that, suddenly, this man would hurt her because the sun was down and she was a lone woman in the great, big world. The voice in her head made her clutch her purse tighter, even though she’d only just been talking to that man like they’d known one another already.

When the elevator came to the lobby, she hurried off first, not even stopping to see if he’d made the same motion he’d made when they’d gotten on. Out of nowhere, her mind was on a single track: to get to the subway and make it home in one piece. The closer she got to the front of the building, the more fidgety she became, which totally prevented her from hearing the man call out to her however he could.

She hadn’t even given him her name. He hadn’t given his, either. And now she was leaving, and sure, maybe they worked on the same floor but he could be anyone. He could work in one of at least fifteen different offices on her floor, and with how much work Sitwell gave her every single day, the chances of finding him again were slim to none.

It didn’t matter, and she knew that. She was no one. She was a secretary, some girl from upstate who’d run away from home and stumbled into something so much bigger than herself. And she was alone that night, so her one-track mind was focused on preservation and survival. The map in her head led to one place: home.

---

Thor had never seen that woman before. He was sure of it. All the balls and galas and S.I. events he’d been to and he had never seen her before. He would’ve remembered her face if he had.

He watched the doors as she scurried out, immediate regret sitting heavy in his stomach. He hadn’t gotten her name, didn’t know who her boss was, hadn’t even seen which office she’d come out of.

He knew what his brother would say: She’s just a girl you met on an elevator. Don’t be a fool.

But Loki wasn’t here. And he wasn’t a fool. There was just...something about this girl. Their conversation had been brief, to say the least, but he liked what he’d gotten. And he wanted more.

He made to follow her out the door, but when he stepped onto the still busy street, she was gone. Gone home on a random Wednesday night, no doubt. It was the normal thing to do.

He headed for the subway, taking the stairs slowly into the belly of the city. The early fall air was cool but not cold - not yet - and down here, it was muggy still. Thor pulled his phone and headphones out of his pocket, tuning into a podcast about old dead Pantheons just because he found it interesting. This was one of Loki’s recommendations, and the reminder always made him smile.

Maybe he and his brother didn’t always get along, but when they did, it was usually over shared knowledge.

His train ride lasted only a few minutes, and he was grateful there were no stops tonight. He’d had a 13 hour workday; one “emergency” went off after another. As the director of Stark security, Thor had to be present for every one of them, despite most of them not being actual emergencies. But he’d handled them all, paperwork and the like included, with as much patience and strength as he could.

Up until the clock had struck a certain time and he’d realized he’d been working for way too long, was way too hungry, and just happened to be the last person in the office. It had been at that exact moment that the weight of the day had fallen on his shoulders, nearly smothering him against his desk in surprise.

So he’d cleaned up and left and...run into that woman. Stunning, she was. A little easy to spook, maybe, which was only confirmed when she’d stopped talking to him and nearly sprinted out of the building; but otherwise, she was lovely and nice. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head, badgering him because he hadn’t even gotten her name, let alone her contact information.

He trudged up the steps to his street with the thought that he might actually never see that girl again. Stark had way too many employees to go off her physical appearance alone, even if she did work on his floor.

As if she knew she’d been thought of at some point that night, his mother rang him the second he walked through his apartment door. Thor couldn’t help but roll his eyes lightly as he answered the call.

“Hello Mother,” he said, turning on a lamp beside his couch. He went right into the kitchen and opened the fridge, leaning down to glance inside.

“Hello my love,” Frigga said back, just like she always did. “It’s been too long since you last called so I figured I’d check in with you.”

Thor nodded, despite being physically alone. He picked up a package of Havarti cheese that was almost empty and said, “I’m sorry, Mom. Work’s been hectic and-”

“That’s what you always say,” she sighed. “I’d say you’re chock full of excuses but you’ve only got the one. At least your brother gets creative from time to time.”

He could hear the smile in her voice, the teasing she usually laid on him coming on thicker than normal. But he knew Loki was closer to their mother than their father, so he knew the dynamic was different and that Frigga would always comment on that, no matter what. It was her duty and her right, she’d say.

“How is Loki, by the way?” Thor asked her, attempting a subject change.

But he knew, as well as anyone that knew Frigga Odinson, that she would not stand for that.

He pulled out a baggie full of whatever leftover cold cuts he had. Knowing he had to use them soon, before they went bad, he put the cheese and meat on the counter, shut the fridge, and got to work on a basic sandwich.

“Absent at the moment,” she answered shortly. “But I called to talk about you. If you want to know more about your brother, call him.”

Again, he chuckled to himself. Her stern but sticky-sweet tone was to be expected.

“Are you just getting home now, dear?” she asked.

“Yes, unfortunately. You called at the perfect time.”

He could hear the smirk in her voice as she said, “Good. As always.” And then he imagined the smirk falling, because her tone took a sharp turn. “You need to take better care of yourself. How do you ever expect to find a wife if you’re so busy at work all the time?”

“Well, the thing is, Mom-”

“Don’t go giving me the ‘I’m not ready’ speech, dear. You tried that already. Seven years ago. Didn’t work then, won’t work now. You’re the director of that office, you should hire a deputy to take some of the load off of your shoulders!”

He’d love to say he was surprised at her interjecting, but he truly, truly wasn’t. Frigga had practically run a part of her husband’s own company, before he’d sold it and gone into retirement, neither of his sons having been deemed worthy to pass it down to.

Not that Loki or Thor were complaining about that. Thor quite liked the job he’d chosen, thank you very much.

He took a bite out of the hastily made sandwich before saying, “I’d have to have time to go through applications and interviews for that, Mom.”

“Oh, nonsense. Tony Stark hired you and he can hire a deputy to work with you even if you’re unable to attend the interviews.”

Thor sighed. This wasn’t a normal conversation with his mother, but she wasn’t aware of every detail on how he’d gotten his position, and he was too tired to get into it. But he did tell her, “Tony and I are old friends. He had an opening for a position I was qualified for - I barely interviewed because he was aware of my credentials. That doesn’t just happen for everyone.”

“You’d be surprised by how aware of that I am, dear,” his mother said, passive aggressive sarcasm dripping from every syllable. She was growing tired of waiting for grandchildren, and even more so as the seconds of this conversation ticked by. “I’m sure there’s someone that could help you, directly or otherwise. You need some time for yourself, or you’re going to end up alone, unhappy, and unfulfilled like your aunt Freyja.”

On a good day, Frigga wasn’t judgmental like that. Apparently, this was not a good day.

“I’d hardly say Freyja’s unfulfilled, Mom. She owns her own company-”

“She makes lingerie for her Instagram store. I wouldn’t call that fabulously successful.”

Thor had nothing else to say. He wasn’t about to get into an argument with his mother, especially not when she was being rather unreasonable. Maybe she was just having an off night, or perhaps she was feeling a particularly nasty bout of Empty Nesters Syndrome - even after more than a decade of living in a house without her children. Either way, he was not about to let her blame him for whatever it was, but he also wasn’t going to tell her off.

He sighed, finishing off his sandwich easily. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m really exhausted. If I promise to revisit the deputy idea in the near future, could I possibly say goodnight and talk to you later?”

She hrumphed, but ultimately ceded. “Yes, of course dear. I love you very much.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

She hung up first, as she always did. Thor locked his phone, put what was left of his sandwich supplies away, and headed for his bedroom.

He stripped down, brushed his teeth, and set an alarm for the morning, ignoring the reminder in his head that he didn’t even get that girl’s name before she’d disappeared into New York City. He was in bed before he knew it, and when he shut his eyes, all he saw was her.

[liebegott]

Hello my beautiful friend! (Highkey am missing you even tho it’s only been a few hours 😩) i have come with a request if that’s okay! It’s kind of a joint request from me and @shiftysdogtags lol... could you maybe do a Guernere fwb to proper lovers fic 👉👈

Sunrises & Trying Again. | Bill Guarnere

(click here to read on wattpad!)

REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN.

pairing: bill guarnere x gender neutral reader

wc: 1.8k

tw: mentions and hints of sex. this isn’t NSFW but my confused self kinda feels like it is so if you are a minor and uncomfortable with things like this PLEASE DO NOT READ thank you i’ll cry otherwise. 

A/N: thank you @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant and @shiftysdogtags for requesting this! i’ve never written anything for bill before so this was super exciting.

also, pretend he and toye never got injured in bastogne please i couldn’t figure out WHERE they would do.. “It” and the thought of them swimming in a lake and just being happy made me so happy. 🥺 also! so sorry for writing so much about zell am see. i’ve just been feeling bad lately so them vibing by a beautiful lake? i wish that were me. 

tagging: @teenmagazines @alienoresimagines @order-of-river-phoenix @julianneday1701 @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @wexhappyxfew @rarmiitage @mavysnavy @punkgeekchic @vintagelavenderskies @georgeluzwarmhugs @ray--person @wecomrades @jussipogideonlaufeyson @happyveday @snafus-peckuh @urlocalfrogmammy @kathikon @were-supposed-to-be-surrounded @warrior-healer 

feel free to message me if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

***

Your forehead was slick with sweat, your breathing heavy. “I can’t believe we did it again,” you said to yourself, your voice incredibly sore. Of course, it happened again. It wouldn’t stop happening ever since you first bumped into Bill in the middle of the night in front of the washrooms back in Georgia. 

You’d find yourself in his bed, promising it would be the last time, and try your best to sneak back into your own, careful not to wake anyone. When there was more privacy, he wouldn’t put a hand over your mouth as you did it, the sounds of your quiet voices filling the room. Even at Bastogne, you found yourself staggering out of his foxhole, despite the absurdity of it all, adjusting your pants and flattening your top, as though anyone would notice.

You hated every part of yourself for it, but everyone had urges. You and Bill’s were just a lot stronger than everyone else’s.

“Of course we did,” the man beside you muttered as though he could read your mind, “You can’t resist me.” He threw you a wink, that nearly made you want to pounce on him once more and go for another round, and the thought of it made you sick at the same time. Mostly because he was right; You couldn’t resist him one bit.

Instead, you rolled your eyes. “More like you can’t resist me,” you swiped at the sweat on your forehead, sitting up on his bed. Being in Austria meant more privacy. That meant more nights on his bed instead of yours.

Bill chuckled, and you bit down on your bottom lip, the temptation nearly unbearable. It was even worse was that he was leaning on his elbows, propping his head up with his arm. His hair was slicked back, his chest glistening with sweat. “That’s true,” he whispered, eyeing you as you pulled up your hair and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible, “You aren’t sleeping with me tonight?” 

You turned away, knowing full well you’d give in to his puppy dog eyes, and the cycle would begin all over again. “No,” you pursed your lips as you continued getting dressed, his eyes burning holes into your skin, “I don’t want people thinking we’re sleeping together.” The words came out wrong, and you felt Bill turn away. “I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he raised a hand dismissively, standing up from his bed and opening the door for you, “You better get going then.”

Shocked, you quickly picked up your stuff, shuffling out the door. “Goodnight,” you tried to say, but Bill’s door was already closed.

———

It had been 3 days since that whole debacle, and you weren’t sure if you were supposed to be relieved or upset that Bill hadn’t shown up in front of your door ever since. You fiddled with your fingers as you kicked your feet around in the lake. The rest of the men were behind you, starting up campfires and just messing about.

“Why so glum?” you heard a husky voice behind you say. Toye rested his hand on your head, messing up your hair. He took a seat beside you, occasionally glancing at the men, but their laughter and their voices were drowned out by the thumping in your head. You had wished it was Bill who came up to you. 

Maybe that was why you were seated at the edge of the boardwalk all alone. You were upset after all. 

You shrugged. “It’s nothing,” you smiled at him, bumping his shoulder gently, “Just thinking. Thank you for asking, though.” 

The smile on his face faded, and Toye furrowed his brows. Taking a sip from his canteen, he handed it to you with a wink, but you rejected it and instead stared back down at your feet submerged in the water. “You must be thinking about something so terrible that you’d be so upset, despite being in the best place in the world since home,” he mumbled, cracking his knuckles together, “But whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Its Bill,” the words spilled out before you could do anything, but Toye seemed unfazed, still staring ahead, “Why aren’t you surprised?”

He looked down at you, an amused smile on his face. “You know we can all hear the two of you going at it like rabbits right?” 

A blush creeped onto your cheeks, and you put your hands over your face, rubbing vigorously. “Oh god,” you groaned into your hands, but Toye laughed, throwing his arm over your shoulders, “I’ve done a terrible thing.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t think anyone cares, but we do tease him a lot for it,” Toye started, patting you gently, “What’d you do?”

“I kind of told him I didn’t want anyone to think we were sleeping together,” you frowned. The fact that they all knew either way was humiliating, and Bill had known they were aware of your late night rendezvouses. 

Toye flinched, running a hand through his hair and leaning back. “Wow,” he chuckled, “You did fuck up.”

“You’re supposed to make me feel better!”

“I was never here to make you feel better,” he laughed, raising his hands defensively, “I was just wondering what got you so sad.” Toye smiled, and that made you smile as well. “However, I can offer you a piece of advice.”

You leaned in closer, nodding. “Its definitely more than just sex to you if you feel this bad about it,” he winked, before standing up, tousling your hair again, and heading back to the rest of the men.

You watched him walk away, before your eyes trailed off towards Bill, who was laughing with Frank and Malarkey about something you couldn’t hear. He looked so happy, but the second his eyes met yours, his smile fell. Your heart pinched.

Toye was right, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It was more than that.

———

“Y/N,” someone shook your shoulders, and you sat upright on your bed, bumping foreheads with whoever was trying to wake you up, “Goddamn.”

You cursed as well, rubbing your forehead. “What the hell, Bill?” you groaned, lifting your pillow and hitting him with it, “What time is it?”

He raised his arm, glancing at the watch around his wrist. “4AM,” he muttered, before hitting you back with the pillow. 

“What are you doing here?” you glared, scratching your head. You were still very much asleep. Looking around, you realised it was still dark outside, and yet Bill stood in front of you fully dressed. “I’m not having sex with you at 4 in the morning.”

Hurt flashed across his face, and you instantly regretted saying that, but instead he chuckled lightheartedly. “It's not that, asshole,” he grinned, grabbing your hand and pulling you into an upright position, “Though you had no trouble doing that in the past.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

You rolled your eyes, standing in front of him in your pajamas, crossing your arms. The two of you were tangled up with each other so often in the past, and yet you felt more exposed now than ever before. “You didn’t answer me,” you stated blankly, refusing to lose to him, “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” he started, his eyes avoiding yours, “I was wondering if you wanted to go see the sunrise? Major Winters goes swimming every morning and told me how peaceful it was, and I thought maybe you’d like to go with me.” 

You mentally cursed. Bill was so hard to resist.

“I’d love that,” you said, despite your brain yelling at you not to. There was no reason why two friends, who have seen each other naked more than once, couldn’t go and see the sunrise together, right? 

That’s what you kept repeating to yourself as you changed. You met him at the door, followed him towards the boardwalk, and set yourself down on the cool wood. Fog rolled over the lake, the air cold in your lungs. “Major Winters swims in this weather?” you breathed, and Bill wrapped his coat over you, “I know it's summer and all but wow.” You tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach.

He shrugged, glancing at you for a moment, and once more, you felt exposed. “I guess nothin’s colder than Bastogne.” 

The sun slowly rose, casting a pink glow over the lake. Bill whistled. “Lucky to be alive, Y/N,” he mumbled, but you almost couldn’t hear him, so entranced by the view in front of you. You nodded, mouth agape. 

When the sun had completely risen, you found yourself resting your head upon his shoulder, and your face turned beet red. “Oh, shit,” you cursed, standing up quickly, “I’m sorry.” You needed to get out of there.

“For what?” Bill exclaimed, the peace that surrounded the two of you left your bones, and you hugged his coat tighter around you. His coat. You wanted to cry.

Refusing to turn and look at him, you stopped in your tracks, head hunched down. “Look at me,” he said kindly, even though you knew he was fighting the urge to raise his voice, “Please.”

You turned slowly, staring at the ground in front of you. “What are you sorry for?” he asked again, his eyebrows scrunched together in worry.

“Why did you ask me here, Bill?” you asked in return, your eyes pleading to his to stop with the games, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend we’re just friends.”

He smiled sadly, taking a few, slow steps towards you, the wooden boards creaking underneath him. “Neither can I,” Bill whispered, “That’s why. I thought maybe, maybe, if we did something other than sex, you’d see me the way I see you after. When we’re covered in sweat, in the dark, talking about life, and our dreams like we didn’t just do what we did.”

You paused, your hands falling slack at your side. Bill was in front of you now, so close you could smell his aftershave, and it wasn’t lust that took over you. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, a kiss that was nothing like the ones you shared when he pushed you onto your back. A kiss that meant so much; Like quiet words shared in a foxhole, minutes before you climbed out. Like dreams and promises and hopes for the future.

“You’re not mad at me?” you breathed against his lips, his breath smelling like peppermint. 

Bill shook his head, tilting your head to give you another kiss, “I’m mad at myself for not doing this sooner. Let’s try again, shall we?”

[simsadventures]

Yours Forever

Summary: You enjoy the summer with your boyfriend, Captain America, who, sometimes, need assurance that you’ll love him no matter what

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, smut (MUST BE 18+ TO READ THE PART BETWEEN WARNINGS!, the warnings will be before and after the smut, so that those who aren’t comfortable reading, won’t have to), semi-public sex, jealousy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2402

A/N: This piece was written for the loveliest @the-soulofdevil​, who requested a one-shot for my 500 Followers Celebration, and her song of choice was either Love or Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey, and I kinda combined the two of them (I got carried away, I’m so sorry if it isn’t what you expected love). Also this is my first Steve fic, so be gentle with me. Hope you’ll enjoy it guys.

Masterlist

Steve has been home from a mission for about a week, and you couldn’t get enough of him. It was mid-July, so you could spend most of your time outside, either beside the pool at the compound, or just wandering through the streets of New York, and especially Brooklyn.

Steve loved to show you around his once own neighbourhood, his stories revolving mainly around places where he got beaten up. You would always caress his cheek, letting him know that you were there and that even if he got shrunken back, you’d still want him and kick the asses of those guys.

Steve was always a little worried, that most women wanted him for his looks, once he got enhanced, and that nobody really saw through it. It was a huge struggle at the beginning of your relationship, because whenever you’d compliment his physique, he would always go into this defensive state of mind, and would be pissed for pretty much the rest of the day. You didn’t understand it, because, sure, his body was a blessing and you couldn’t look at it without your knees going a little soft, but other than that, you loved Steve for who he was, and not for what he looked like.

It was only when you found out what the problem was that you sat him down and talked sense into him. It was that night that you and Steve made love for the first time. Until then, you always fucked, but that night was a breakthrough in your relationship, and something shifted to the better. There were still moments when you had to remind Steve of why you actually loved him, and today was one of those days.

You were in front of the compound, being too lazy to actually get up and leave the comfort of what you now called home. Although you weren’t part of the team and were actually a nurse, Steve insisted that you were most protected there, that even if he wasn’t around, there were still other people who could take care of you, and there was also FRIDAY. You tried to tell him that everyone knew where the compound was, even the bad guys and that you were much safer in your old apartment, but Steve wouldn’t have it. He was probably the most stubborn man you’ve ever met.

You were laying by the pool, a big part of the team surrounding you, enjoying the free day they had. Earth didn’t need its saviours for a while, and they all couldn’t get enough of the summer in the city. You were in your bikini, absorbing as much of vitamin D as you could, trying to store in for autumn and winter, where you knew you’d need it. You just hoped it would work. Bucky was sitting behind you, chatting with you, both of you completely relaxed. You laughed at one of his jokes, throwing your head back. The guy was cheesy as hell, but his heart was golden, and you were glad Steve had him back in his life.

After a while, you looked up, your hand shading the sun from burning your eyes out of your head, looking for Steve. You could see him standing by the nearest wall, shadow on his face, both literal and metaphorical. You frowned a little and called his name to get his attention. You only got a wave of a hand as an answer, and you thought it was even odder. You knew he was excited to see you on your new bikini, white with golden circles all over it and with little gold beads on the straps. But he seemed to not care about your attire at all.

You excused yourself to Bucky, who just cocked his eyebrow, looking at his best friend. “Go easy on him, Y/N. I think he’s jealous that you’ve been talking to me the whole time.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, James.” He just made a gesture like you-wait-and-see, and let you go discover what was bugging Steve.

The closer you were getting, the more you noticed how rigid his whole body was. He was standing there like a sculpture, moving and perfect, with a very serious face. He was beautiful, just in his blue swim trunks reaching only his mid-thigh. But you couldn’t enjoy the sight too much, because he’s pissed off, and maybe sad face wasn’t fitting the image.

“What is it, baby?” You asked meekly when you reached him and tried to touch him but almost jumped away from your touch, the wrinkle on your forehead only deepening.

“Nothing, go back to having fun.” He mumbled, now pouting like a little child. Was it possible that he was jealous, just like Bucky said?

“But I’m not having that much fun when you’re not around.” You stepped closer to him, but this time keeping your hands to yourself, although it took all your willpower to do so.

“Yeah, you and Buck looked like you were having a terrible time, laughing like crazy there.”

You sighed, and even though he wanted to protest, you flung your arms around his neck and made him look at you that way. “Are you really jealous of your best friend, Steve?”

He closed his eyes, and you could see there was a fight behind his eyelids. One side won, the better one for you, and he let his hands grip your hips.

“It’s just that… I don’t know. Bucky has always been the one getting all the girls, and if there were two of them, they still wanted him and never me. And I’m just worried that you’ll see that he is the better man and leave me.” He whispered the last part of the sentence because tears were forming in his eyes. Your poor shy boy from Brooklyn.

“Baby, look at me, please,” you pleaded gently, and Steve obediently opened his eyes. “I love you with all my heart. Yeah, I was laughing with Bucky, but that’s about it. I laugh with you, I cry with you, I fall asleep with you, and so much more. And I’d do all that if you were the skinny boy again, because sure, the body of yours has its advantages, especially in particular area, but other than that? I care about what inside, and you’re the best guy.

I don’t care about your looks if we’re thirty, or two hundred. I’ll love you no matter what Steve. When we’re both old and wrinkly, I’ll love just as much as I love you right now, and maybe a little more, because you’ll have put up with me for ages by then.”

Steve was looking at you intently, drinking in everything you said. He couldn’t believe his own luck to have someone like you beside him. He knew it was stupid of him to be jealous, but sometimes, he just couldn’t help himself. Just like he couldn’t help himself now, finally seeing through his sadness and fear of losing you, and seeing what you were wearing.

“What areas are we talking about?” He said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk playing on his lips.

You had to laugh at that. “That’s the only thing you heard, you perv?” He wiggled his brows, and you just shook your head. He was in a better mood, and that was the goal. He leaned down to be on your level, his hands flying to your head and he kissed you with so much passion that you thought you’d faint right there. From the shy boy standing in front of you just second ago, he transformed into this dominant man, ready to devour you and show you who you belonged to. And you loved both versions equally, even if each of them with a different bodily part.

You let him take what was rightfully his, putting no obstacles in his way. You opened your mouth willingly, letting him explore it with his tongue. When he felt you were running out of your breath, he moved to give your neck the same attention he gave to your mouth. You were standing impossible close to each other, and you could feel his member pushing against your leg, getting some sort of friction.

Warning: smut ahead

You moaned softly, which only spurred Steve forward. He loved hearing the little noises coming out of your mouth, and he wanted to hear more. You, on the other hand, was very much aware of the environment in which you still were, his team-mates all around you, and because a lot of them were super-humans, you were pretty sure they could hear your every ragged breath.

Steve didn’t understand why you were pushing against his shoulder and wanted to continue with the activity at hand, but you pushed a little harder this time, calling his name as well.

“What? I’m having fun, sweetheart!” He said with a small pout which you couldn’t help but tried and kissed it away.

“So am I, Steve, but your buddies are all over the place and not for nothing, but I don’t need all of them seeing my bare ass, or worse.” Steve seemed to have thought about it for a second before he picked you up as if you weighted nothing, threw you over his shoulder and marched towards the door leading inside.

When he felt like you were far enough from the prying eyes, he let you stand up on your own. You looked around, seeing you were still in a very much public place, in a hallway. It was not the main hallway people would use when leaving the pool, but still.

“Can’t we go to our room?” You squeaked, but Steve wasn’t listening anymore. He was pushing the top of your bikini away, revealing your boobs. He growled at the sight of them, your nipples standing erect from the kissing session you and Steve had mere seconds ago. He didn’t waste any time, and sucked on one of them, while his fingers played and tugged on the other one. You involuntarily arched up against his touch, wanted more, even if you wanted it in the confines of your own private room.

Steve could feel the change in your body, the will to fight him about the place leaving your body, being replaced by sheer lust. That was the exact moment Steve waited on. He released your nipple with a pop and looked at you through his lust-hooded eyes. He smirked at you, and you knew what was coming, and suddenly you couldn’t give to fucks about someone finding you two. You just needed him, and he seemed to be as eager as you were.

He released his painfully hard cock from his shorts, rubbing it against your leg, as he kissed you again, conveying all of his emotions in this kiss. You could feel the love he was pouring into it, and you were drunk on it. He pulled only to put his forehead against yours. “I love you so much, Y/N. And I always will, I promise. Even if we’re now young and in love and it might seem like a plain promise, but I mean what I say. And anyhow, I’m basically an ancient guy now, so…” he trailed off, and you smiled up at him.

You gently grabbed his cock, rubbing your hand up and down his length, and from the hisses and silent curses falling from Steve’s lips, you assumed he enjoyed what you were doing. But you still wanted more. You pushed your panties away, not wanting to waste time pulling them down, and put your legs a little wider apart, for Steve to have enough room to operate.

Steve obviously got the message, as he grabbed your right leg and locked his arm under your knee, opening you even more. Then it was just easy for him to slide home. You were so wet, not only from the physical touch but also from all the confessions, that he didn’t need to prepare you at all.

He slid in with one thrust, revelling at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. No matter how many times you two slept together, he would always be little too large for you, and you’d still need a little time to adjust to his magnificent size. Steve waited patiently, until your hips bucked against his, giving him a sign that you were ready for all he had to give to you.

Steve didn’t hesitate and started thrusting into you mercilessly, both from his own horniness and from the possibility someone could walk in on the two of you.

He knew exactly how to make you undone in minutes. All he had to do was thrust deep enough to hit your sweet spot, and massage your little bundle of nerves, and you’d be gone in no time. For him, it was just the feeling of your velvety walls when you came that always did it for him. He always had to make sure you came before him, so he could marvel at the sight of you, in the highest state of pleasure possible.

And it really took him not even 10 minutes, before you were silently whispering his name, chanting it like a prayer, your face contorting in ecstasy. That was all it took for him to feel the wave of pleasure rolling over him so hard his toes curled and he gave a few sloppy thrusts before he was coming deep inside your pussy. He was breathing hard into your neck, both of you sweaty and sticky from the activity and the humidity in the hallway.

Warning ending

You could hear voices coming from the other hallway, and you snuggled a little closer to Steve as if to shield yourself from any visitors.

“You two done? We thought we’d play water polo, but we’re missing two players.” Bucky hollered at you, and your cheeks were suddenly burning, and you knew they were bright red.

Steve just laughed and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah, give us a sec, and we’re with you.”

“Sure, just be so kind and have a shower first.” You could hear the smirk on Bucky’s face, and you rolled your eyes.

“Asshole,” you muttered, earning a chuckle from Steve and a loud Ouch from Bucky. Damn them and their enhanced hearing.

Marvel Taglist

@waiting4inspiration​ @voltage-my2dlove​ @kneel-begyourpardon​

Forever Tags:

@eileenalone​ @sasbb23​ @p8tn0lish​ @coffeebooksandfandom​

If you’d like to be tagged comment/message/send an ask. If you like the story, please reblog :) any comments are appreciated, even the critical ones. Always a space to get better, so let me know what you guys think.

[spacemilkies]

gateau→  ; part i of iii

pairing: cal kestis x reader

word count: 2.5k+

summary: “So you had a Jedi as a roommate … that wont be a problem in the future or anything.”

a/n:  a bunch of new things to get me writing. all written at some ungoldly hour. this will probably be a three part series. something short and simple, based off the prologue with some background. hey, no song fic for once. i spent all day in this fandom. i feel ready. put me in coach.

                                                                    _______

“C’mon just this once, please.”

“Oh ho, no no. This is definitely not the first time.”

There was never a good reason for your roommate to visit you on the job. Not only were you stationed on opposite side of the station, you differing positions also lessened the opportunity for you to meet up without explicit reason. 

He was a rigger and you were a builder, simple as that. 

You refrained from lifting your mask, maintaining a sense of distance from the conversation as you continued to weld the two pieces of metal together. Maybe if you did your job hard enough he would eventually give up out of respect of your workload….

Who were you kidding.

A fiery shock of red hair crouched down next to you, apparently uncaring for the wayward sparks emitting from your torch. It was only when he dared to lean closer that you reluctantly cut the power out of concern for basic occupational safety. 

Flipping the hood of your mask, you gave him your sharpest glare to which he combatted easily with a killer smile. If only it was as effective on his conquests as he seemed to think the same applies to you. 

“You’re all just going to melt it down any.”

Any metals and ores that made it up here were better than the average scraps found in the lower sectors and certainly worth a pretty sum of credits. It was your roommate's favorite way to exploit your job and threaten your only means of survival in the same breath. 

 Darting your gaze around, you found that for once your colleges were rather forgiving of personal space. Though it didn’t mean that your supervisors wouldn’t have watchful eyes on your every move. Hence why these daring favors tended to have more impact than meaningless valve. 

You weren’t agreeing. Definitely were not going to get drawn into to those pleading baby blues. You were just curious. 

“And what exactly do two upstanding individuals as yourselves need with my fine metals?”

Cal’s smirk was shallow but no where lacking in its killer properties,” I’d bend your fine metals anyway.”

With a huff, you nudged him away with your shoulder. Practice allowing you to ignore the faint flush it brought to your cheeks. 

“You’re wasting time, Cal.”

“Just something nice. I’ll pay you back.”

You were not going to fall for it Totally, explicitly would not lose resolve on your promise to not give in like last time. You were strong and resilient and Cal was a big boy with his own means of survival and-

“I swear to all above, Cal if you-”

The force of his lips against your cheek nearly knocked you over and you were left momentarily stunned as nimble fingers searched knowingly against your body. Before you knew it, he was drawing away, your access card in hand. 

You should be happy with how quickly he scrambled to his feet, prepared for a hasty departure. It wouldn’t be long before your superiors began making their rounds and the last thing they wanted to see was a scrapper hunting around their stores. 

Gesturing with two fingers against his temple, Cal waved off before he disappeared around the corner. 

“Why are you not working? Your pay is based on your progress, not your time.”

Swallowing down a retort, you merely smiled shallowly in response to the haughty order as you tugged back down your face mask, Cal’s phantom touch still lingering against your form.

“Of course, sir.”

                                                                    _______

It should be said that Cal wasn’t a terrible roommate. In fact, when he first responded to your advertisement you had a feeling that he would actually be a helpful one.

That was a lie.

You knew that he would be a cute one. Someone that you would have to try /really hard to keep your hands off of. Fortunately for you, at the beginning he felt more like a brother than a bachelor. His boyish habits cutting into some of his charm.

It didn’t take much longer than that before the two of you fell into a rhythm of sorts. 

Having another human around was kind of nice too. 

Not to say you preached xenophobia. Some of your closer friends on this desolate planet were part of varying species. But in a way it aided in building a familiar quality of home even as you reside on the opposite side of the galaxy. 

Cal was moderately fair roommate. He wasn’t spotty with rent and you split the amenities, as scarce as they were, fairly. He was a little messy but not in the obnoxious unhygienic way. 

Everything was balanced. 

And you couldn’t really complain. 

He was a great guy. His humor and antics proving to raise your mood after a long day. Just the way he spoke about his own day bringing tears to your eyes and curling your stomach with laughter. 

You were a capable engineer, even though your talents were wasted on rebuilding the same schematics over and over again. At home, you are able to hone your own skills. Working on various knick knacks and gadgets. It was nice to have a second opinion as well. 

The two of you had spent many nights huddled around the living room surrounded by scattered parts and various prototypes. Only to have to separate the more advanced ones in fear of being caught. 

It was nice. 

                                                                    _______

“Damn, I didn’t think the boss would ever let you off.”

With less finesse and not a care in the world, you dropped haggeded into the seat offered by your friends. After another long week it was nice to finally load off with a few drinks and company chatter. 

For some reason the quota skyrocketed in the past few weeks. The recycling of old metal into new vessels becoming an unrelenting force on your crew. 

It turned out to be one of the worst moments to find yourself promoted. 

To think just three weeks ago you were throwing around drinks in celebration and now you were ready to drown out the accomplishment with whatever was on tap. 

“Apparently they’re bringing in a huge freighter soon,” you called out solemnly. Your supervisor had shown you the schematics of the parts that would be salvaged and what they wanted to accomplish with its predecessor. 

After another long shift all you could really make out was work and more work. 

But at least the same would be said for the riggers. 

To your right Reif, a Rodian, spoke crudely over a mouthful of food,” Yeah, been hearing about that one for sometime now. Suppose to be a Separist ship. Going to be quite the project.”

Slouching idly in your seat, you played lazily with the handle of the mug offered to you. Just another long project to keep you stranded on this planet. Not to say you had any plans otherwise. 

If anything you should really thank them for giving you something to focus on. 

Garnering everyone’s attention with a slam of her glass against the table, Enisa a pretty pale blue Rylothian, slurs loudly,” Enough of all this work talk. Let’s focus on something else.”

Then she’s sliding sharply into you, leaving you to fumble with your own glass,” Like your roommate. Why didn’t you tell me he was available.”

Because you weren’t in the market providing companions?

Your furrowed burrow must have voiced your thoughts because she was rolling her eyes without your verbal response. 

“Oh don’t play dumb. You’re harboring one of the few attractive souls on this god forsaken planet. And you’re not even bumping uglies with him, what a shame.”

You were stuck between defending your own choices and wondering when she learned such a human phrase. It was hardly worth the effort of explaining how the two of you just weren't like that. Your inventory of excuses were running dry.

“Stop making it awkward for her, she has to live with the guy.”

Catching Reif’s gaze over the rim of your glass, you give him a thankful nod. The rest of your group takes the initiative to fill the silence and progresses the conversation further into the night. Unlike most outings, neither of you are able to keep up with one another past a few extra hours. The weight of the day taking more out of you as it came to a close. 

You’re not the only one grateful when Reif brings the outing to a close. 

There is just enough alcohol in your system to make you stumble through the threshold of your home, groaning quietly as you try to stabilize yourself. More likely than not Cal was already asleep and you didn’t want to disrupt that. 

Now with the evening settling into your bones, there wasn't a part of your body that didn't ache and the incoming headache didn't make any part of it better. 

Right now the couch was looking a lot more inviting than it should be. You’d deal with the consequences it would leave on your body in the morning. 

Rounding the edge, you collapsed back into the cushions.

“What the hell?”

“Shit, Cal! What the fuck?”

A sharp hiss escapes him when your elbow jabs unkindly into the softness of his side. Before you could try to remedy it, his hand is gripping your upper arm and settling you more safely in the available space rather than on top of him. 

For a moment it's just your mixed breaths as you come down from the unexpected surprise. With more care, you twist more comfortably mindful of your limbs this time. 

It's hardly necessary but you whisper anyway. 

“Why are you here?”

You feel his arm wiggling behind your head and you raise your neck obediently to allow it to rest beneath you. As a reward, the same hand curls inward to comb through your hair lazily. He works his fingers across your nape and back up to your scalp finding just the right spot and drew small circles. 

“Dunno, just came home and ended up here. Kind of like you but less dramatically.”

You snort, “Sorry, wasn’t expecting a party of two.”

He hums to himself, the pad of his thumb pressing inward in a way the manages to reset your whole mindframe and you nearly white out from the release. 

There is more that could be said but the words escape you both as you settle for the night. If you weren't already going to regret this before, you were definitely were going to more now for an entirely different reason. But there was no chance of you altering the flow of what it was now. 

You would just have to lay there and try not to think too hard about the natural slot of your body to Lance’s despite the finite space. It was much easier to count the staccato of his dull thumping heartbeat as it lulled you off to sleep. 

                                                                     _______

“Goddammit, Meeka. You’re going to wake up your mom.”

Too late. 

Though in the defense of your mischievous loth-cat, the warm smell of breakfast permeating from the kitchen was just one waft away from rousing you. Stretching out your arms, you used the length of them to hook around the back of the couch to drag you up. 

Questionably burnt but you recognize the scent of some of your favorites.You has not caught a glimpse of what he was wearing last night but Cal appears to be wearing some fresh clothes. The way the collar of his shirt is damp in the back hints towards a shower. 

Part of you wonders if breakfast is a preemptive apology towards a cold shower you would be expecting later. 

“Where do you have to go so early?”

If you startle him, he doesn't show. He slides a bit of food onto a plate, giving Meeka more than gracious portion before bringing the plate to you. You take it gratefully, balancing it on the spine of the couch.

Alert to your presence and no doubt ready to beg for more scraps, you watch unimpressed as the feline-like creature slinks against you. She gets what's expected anyway as you part with a strip of meat.

Leaning against the counter within view, Cal scolds you playfully. “And you said I spoil her.”

“You start it,” you retort without any bite.

You blame the queasiness on residue alcohol when he laughs warmly. 

“Oh. “ You look up and Cal has a fork pointed at you. ‘’Your access card is on the table there.”

You’d already forgotten about that.

“Get anything good?” Safely, is weighted on your tongue but it seems like a waste to add it. Cal has always been mindful of his self, actions and footsteps in a way that makes you wonder how long he’s been watching his own back. 

In the few years you’ve known him, things like the past rarely came up. No one really came to Bracca chasing a future. It was just a means to an end until you could find something better if you could manage to get out. 

You hard already stopped trying when Cal stumbled into your life. But now it hardly seemed like a bad thing. 

The clank of dishes brings you out of your thoughts. His back is to you now as he cleans his mess.

“It will be a nice personal pay raise, that’s for sure. Prauf sends his thanks too.”

Cal surprises you again when he comes to collect your empty plate. Rather than comment it on it, you lounge comfortably in the domesticity of it all. 

“What’s your plan for the day?”

That was a good question. 

Your body had an obvious vote towards rest but responsibilities made a greater bid on your time. A bit of shopping would unfortunately be necessary but your savings would have to survive. Between the recent raise and this upcoming project, you should survive to hit. 

Replenish resources it would be then. At least if you start early enough it would allow you to relax for the remainder of the day. 

Cal’s gaze follows as you stretch and eventually slink off the couch. Meeka happy to have the entire furniture to herself doesn’t waste a moment to snuggle into your lingering warmth. 

“Down to the Bazaar first, then after that we’ll see.”

But first to see how much hot water you were going to be working with. Yawning loudly, you get to work with untangling the mess of your hair. Just before you can round the corner, Cal calls out to you.

“Want to make it a date?”

It’s an innocent play of words. One’s he’s used in the past without acting on it. 

‘And you’re not even bumping uglies with him, what a shame.’

And just when you finally stopped overthinking it.

Peeking over your shoulder, you found Cal waiting expectantly yet so unaware of the winds of the storm picking up in your mind. Was it even worth it to wonder if similar thoughts ever troubled him?

-nah, it was just easier to smile.

“Yeah, it’s a date.”

[spunky-89]

Broken Ship P2

A/N: Heyo, it is here. The second part of my Titans!Jason Todd fic. This will be getting turned into a series that will update when my muse feels like showing up for work lol.

This chapter picks up where the last one ended. This is smut. I’ll admit this chapter was hard to write because, well I've never written smut before. Please don’t hate me if it sucks :/

Warning- smut (18+) Please don’t read if you are underage!

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

Up against that wall was not overly comfortable, but she didn’t care in the slightest. Quite suddenly the whole mood had turned on its side. There was a deep need and hunger settling inside that was demanding attention.

(Y/N) sensed this change when each time she panted, she was hyper-aware of her breasts rubbing against him. She could feel her nipples pebbling and she tried her best to hold her mouth closed to suppress any noises her body wanted to let out at the stimulation. As much as she was craving it, she was trying not to move the situation along too fast. But as the fates would have it, she was unsuccessful and her body shuddered in pleasure as she whimpered. 

Jason had trouble keeping his eyes on (Y/N)’s face and not her boobs that were teasing him with each panting breath she took. He was glad he was looking though, seeing her bite her lip as he felt her shudder with each breath made him proud, and all the more hungry to explore her body further. He waited a few moments, just watching her, taking in the scene, then he moved his head to start kissing her jaw and neck, testing the waters. She gasped and her hands tightened in his hair at the unexpected assault. He kept his eye on her as he pushed her harder into the wall, letting her feel the hard muscles of his chest and his obvious desire pressing between her thighs. The combination of feeling all of him and his lips kissing, biting and sucking on her neck had her breathing out a low moan as she let her hands dig into his shoulders. She felt him smirk against her skin before he brought his face in front of hers. No words were exchanged as he pulled her off the wall, locking his lips to hers as he walked towards his room. It felt like not even a second had passed before the door was closing behind them and he was pressing her into it. She was still going between gripping his face, his hair, and his shoulders as his lips continued to wander across her neck and collarbone area. As he had her against his door, a concept which both thought was extremely hot, he found the spot he was looking for. As he kissed it her breath hitched. He looked up at her face to see she was resting her head back against the door as she was biting her lip, trying to hold in any noises. His lips pulled into a grin as he prepared to make all of the noises she was holding back escape. He let his tongue slide over the spot before sucking on it. She bit back a whine as much as she could, but when he gently bit the same spot she couldn’t keep the moan from tumbling from her lips. 

“That’s what I was looking for,” Jason mumbled lowly into her neck as he kissed and sucked his way back to her lips. She tried to pull his head closer to reattach their lips but he wouldn’t let her. She let out a whine in frustration at this. 

“Don’t pout baby,” He said. (Y/N)’s whole body shivered at the deeper timber his voice took.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” (Y/N) tried to speak with her usual hint of sass and confidence, but she shocked herself as she heard her voice come out shaky, taking an almost whimpering tone.

He pulled her away from the door and laid her on the edge of his bed, his body leaning over her. “Fuck,” he murmured as he took in her form. Clothes disheveled, hair splayed around her head, face flushed, and red marks showing across her neck. He tried really hard not to lose all sense of self-control as he noticed your top and bra had shifted enough to show more of your cleavage and he groaned. She was looking up at him with her eyes blown wide with need as she was trying to pull him down to her. But he still hesitated. 

“Hey, hey, slow down baby,” He spoke as he felt her dragging him down.

Her hands stopped moving and started to withdraw from his shoulders as a look of worry and confusion took over her face. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, her eyes worried even though she was still panting and her body was flushed.

“I’m great,” He mumbled as he leaned down to rest his head on hers. She slowly put her arms around him again to let her hands loosely hold his neck.

“Then why are you stopping?” She asked, her eyes locking on his, trying to figure out what was going through his mind.

“Because I need to make sure you’re serious here. I can’t love you just to lose you.”

Her eyes shined as she looked at him. She pulled his lips to hers and this time he let her. It was a softer kiss, one meant to reassure. “I love you, Jason Todd, and I will never stop.” She swore. His eyes scanned her face finding nothing but love and honesty. With that hesitation gone, in under a second one of his hands had moved under her back to pull her up as he devoured her lips. She gasped at the sudden movement and felt Jason’s tongue re-enter her mouth, not holding anything back. His hips rolled into hers to see how she would respond, and he was pleased to see that her head flew back as a moan spilled from her lips. He took the opportunity to create more marks on her neck and he teased her with the occasional roll of his hips.

(Y/N) finally got tired of his teasing and pulled his lips back up to hers as she gave him a taste of his own medicine by wrapping her legs around his waist and rolling her hips up into his. He groaned and let a ‘fuck’ as she did so. He grabbed her again and pushed her further onto the bed until her head hit his pillows. She watched with hungry eyes as he pulled his shirt off and threw it behind him. Her hands immediately went to explore his chest and back, enjoying running her hands and nails over the muscles that were rippling as he held himself above her. He shuddered as she dragged her nails lightly down his back. 

“Your turn princess,” he mumbled lowly as he helped her sit up and fling the shirt off her head, not missing the way she shuttered at the nickname. 

At first, she was embarrassed about not having a fancy bra on, however, the way he was looking at her and the low groan he let out made her cheeks flush deeper,  and not from embarrassment. With the new skin exposed Jason got to work mouthing her breasts and sucking new marks there. It wasn’t long before (Y/N)s bra was gone too. 

The two lovers took some time to explore the new skin on each other, laying kisses or sucking marks onto each other. It wasn't as rushed as it was before. They took their time reconnecting and learning each other in a whole new way. There was love in every movement, whether it be a kiss, a tender grip, or a gentle bite on the skin. In that moment, the two lovers with tragic and harsh lives forgot everything. There was nothing outside of that moment with one another. Soon enough, the two grew impatient, wanting to continue this exploration of the soul and body.

Through the slow movements, Jason had been purposely avoiding one spot. In the few minutes of this reconnection, he had noticed that her breasts were sensitive and she seemed to have more of a reaction to stimulation.

He knew once he made that next move, there wouldn’t be this short moment where there was no rush, just two people who were madly in love exploring a new facet of their love. But he was done waiting and he slowly licked his way around her hardened nipple before lightly scraping it with his teeth. (Y/N);s breath hitched as her nails dug into his shoulder. He then took it in his mouth and started sucking while his one hand fondled the other. The girl below him moaned and whimpered as he switched from one nipple to the next. He felt her start wiggling her hips trying to find a way to get some friction but failing as Jason's body kept hers locked in place.

“Jason, baby, please,” she whined as her hands scratched his scalp and tugged on his hair. He released her one breast from his mouth with a crude pop, giving it one last lick before he lifted his head to meet hers.

“What is it? What do you want?” he asked, laying more kisses across her neck. His nose nuzzling as he went.

“Please Jay, please, stop teasing.” She whined as she gripped his shoulders.

“You mean like this?” A loud moan left her lips as Jason harshly ground his very engorged dick into her, feeling the heat that was between her legs. She started to try and grind her hips up to his but he stopped her as one hand went down to grasp (Y/N)’s ass and lift her body closer to his.

He looked into her eyes and asked: “Are you sure about this?”

She wrapped her legs around his waist once more and harshly rolled her hips into his. “No, I’d much rather leave all hot and bothered to go get myself off in the shower, using whatever I can find to satisfy my throbbing pussy.”

“Don’t get smart with me princess,”

“Or what?” She asked, surprised at the breathless tone she had.

“I guess you’ll find out,” Jason growled as he expertly flipped her over, face in the pillows as her ass was in the air. Jason quickly rid (Y/N) of her bottoms. And after discovering the sexy thong she had on, he groaned again and started toying with the waistband. He leaned over so his head was next to (Y/N)’s and growled out, “What’s with the thong princess?”

She tried to answer, but nothing came out as a string of moans and whines left her lips. He kept playing with the band of her panties and kissing her neck. As much as he was ready to finally fuck her, he was enjoying teasing her. Loving the way (Y/N)s sassy ‘don’t tell me what to do’ attitude faded away and left her whimpering under him. She was squirming like crazy, trying to get him to do anything, but he didn’t give in. Sure he was never a patient guy, but he somehow found the strength to hold out. When the only things coming from her lips was his name and incoherent words that turned into moans and whimpers, he smirked and got off the bed.

(Y/N)s head whipped around to face him. Seeing him smirking at her she glared as she sat up on her knees. Her eyes were daring him to try and pull some shit on her. 

He kept smirking as he kicked his shoes off and yanked his pants and socks off. (Y/N)s breathing stopped for a moment. With just a tight pair of briefs, she could see everything. She shuttered and let out a high pitched moan. He climbed back on the bed and she backed up as he did so. They stopped as he was once again on top of her, his hands resting on either side of her head. 

“Last chance (n/n),” Jason breathed, staring deep into the eyes of the girl he’d been in love with since he was 10.

She took a moment to stare up at him. Taking in his features in a new light. She never cared about looks, she wasn’t that kind of girl. Sure he was handsome when they were young, but that never mattered to her. To her, he was just her best friend that she didn’t realize she loved until it was too late. Now, four years later, he was sexy as hell and she knew she loved him. She realized that when she was with the two other guys she briefly dated, she didn’t keep the relationship because she compared them to Jason. Both guys had similar looks to Jason, which is what attracted her to them, but they weren’t him. None of them knew her like he did, and the one boyfriend who got this far with her didn’t give her even a tenth of the pleasure she was feeling, and Jason hadn’t even really begun.

“I’m in if you are.” She finally breathed, the tension hanging thick and the desire burning red hot.

“Fuck I love you,” Jason spoke as he dove down and captured her lips again. One had stayed beside her head and the other started snaking down her body to where the thin strip of material stopped his hand from meeting her skin. Lucky for him, he didn’t have to feel under her panties to notice how wet she was. The small patch of fabric that kept her pussy from his eyes was soaked through. He pulled back from her lips as his hand dipped under the thong and his hand came into contact with her oozing pussy. She whined as she felt his feather-light touch. She tried to wiggle her bottom half to get him to press more firmly where she needed him most, but she should have figured he wouldn’t just give her what she wanted. He retracted his hand and gave her a dark and sexy look as he pulled back to look down at her. 

“I’ve barely started and you’re already soaked princess.” His voice deep and laced with desire. 

“Please, no more teasing,” (Y/N) begged, she was so desperate for him she didn’t care what she had to do to make him stop teasing and start actually doing something.

He didn’t verbally respond, but the ripping of lace spoke for him. She lifted her head from the pillow to see if he had done what she thought he just did, and her thoughts were confirmed when she saw him toss the now torn lace thong off the bed. Just as she was going to say something about it, his fingers came into contact with her dripping pussy and the words died on her lips. 

“Now, I’m not very experienced, but from your whines, I’d say I’m doing pretty well.” He spoke, his mouth coming down to speak into her ear. “Wouldn’t you?” He asked as a finger brushed her clit.

Her mouth opened but no sound came out as she threw her head back. Jason leaned back again and watched her face become consumed with pleasure. He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t have much experience. He did get around a bit at school. Girls flocked to him, being Bruce Wayne’s ward and his bad-boy vibes. So he knew what to do, but he cared a lot more about (Y/N) than any of the other girls he slept with. Because she wasn’t just a rich heiress who wanted to rebel against mommy and daddy. No. This was (Y/N), the woman he loved. 

But he covered up his insecurities with attitude and false bravado. Which she usually saw right through, but couldn’t discern in her current mindset. She was much too focused on the pleasure she was receiving. 

She heard his comment but didn’t believe him because oh my gods she was a goner. She was feeling things she thought only happened in shitty romance books and chick-flicks. He was going slow, she wasn’t sure if it was for his sake or hers, but she didn’t care. His soft strokes were not enough, she wanted more. And as always, she didn’t have to say a word. Somehow, he just knew. So when he gently slid a finger in, she gave a high pitched whine of contentment. 

She wasn’t sure if it was hours or minutes until she felt that deep coil start to tighten. Jason was now thrusting two fingers in and out and a rapid pace while his thumb rolled her sensitive bundle. 

“J-J..Jaaaayyyyy…” She whined, her hand gripping the wrist of his hand that was buried in her pussy.

“What is it princess? Are you close? I can feel you squeezing my fingers.” He spoke, the deep tone and pet name making her whine and wiggle more.

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” He chuckled and slipped a third finger in. She squealed loudly and with a few more thrusts and a well-timed stroke to her clit, she was coming around his fingers, moaning his name. Her body was thrashing and she was letting out a stream of curses and moans as he worked her through her orgasm. As she started to calm, he withdrew his now dripping fingers and sucked them one by one, groaning at the taste of her. This made her whimper again. He moaned as he finished cleaning his fingers. “Fuck baby, you taste better then I could’ve imagined.” He scooted back and spread (Y/N)s thighs, going in to lick a long firm stripe up her still leaking vagina. He moaned as he did so, sending vibrations through (Y/N)s core. Her back arched and her hands went down to grip Jason’s hair. This he had never done, but he didn’t care. He was drunk on the taste of her. He just did what he thought he should, let his body take over. He got more confident and bold as he heard (Y/N)s moans reach different pitches. He was quickly learning where and what to do based on the noises she made, the tightness of her fingers, and the way she moved her body. He always knew how to read her body and knew her tells, but he found a completely new way to use this knowledge.

He ended up needing to hold her hips down as she was moving too much. Her hands didn’t stop though. She was tugging and scratching his scalp. He wouldn’t be surprised if his head was bald and bloody after this.

“Jaaaaaay, baby, ple-please.” (Y/N) tried to speak, but was interrupted by her own noises.

Jason pulled his head up slightly to look at her. As she saw his face glistening with her juices she whimpered and tried to wiggle her hips. She was disappointed when she couldn’t do so with his hands keeping a strong grip on her thighs and hips.

He licked his lips and looked (Y/N) directly in the eyes. She had to use all of her willpower to not just whine and let him do whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted. But she could feel herself building up again and she wanted this to last a bit longer.

“What is it princess?” His tone was sexy and low, but his eyes shone with worry. As soon as she uttered a simpering “Please,”, he knew there was nothing wrong and allowed his signature smirk to overtake his features.

“Please what?” he asked as he gently licked up her pussy again.

“Need-need you.” She whined, losing all sense of control as he continued to lap at her dripping core. 

He chuckled against her core and she shivered and whined at the feeling. “You already have me,” he said lowly.

She used all of her strength to pull his head up and make him look at her. She was panting but had one goal in mind and she’d be damned if she didn’t make it known. One eyebrow raised as he looked at her flushed form. If she didn’t say something soon, he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself from pounding into her until both of them passed out.

“I need you, Jason.” She spoke finally. “If you answer with some bullshit again I will walk out of this room and-” her harsh words were cut off by him sitting up and leaning over her again, pulling her leg to his waist as he gave a gentle thrust of his hips against her core. The drag of his clothed cock had (Y/N) moaning as she lifted her hips to keep the friction going.

He stopped her once more, “We can still stop if you want.” 

“Jason I need you nooow,” She whined.

“Maybe I just want to continue with what I was doing.” He challenged, he expected a witty remark but was surprised by her once again.

She looked deep into his eyes and quickly rolled them over. “There’s time for that later.” She breathed as she lifted her hips off of his and started working his underwear off. He didn’t resist her, still too shocked that she switched modes so quickly. He did, however, notice the way her breath hitched and the small whine that slipped from her lips as she released his cock. She looked up at Jason and kept eye contact as she licked the tip of his dick. Jason let out a little groan and she smiled mischievously. She wanted to make sure she teased him the same way he had done to her. So she slowly licked from his base to his tip, and then she did it again, then one more time for her own enjoyment, making sure to swirl her tongue around his leaking tip each time. She was grinding her core against the sheets, trying to maintain some pleasure for herself. She was enjoying herself and relishing in the power she now had over him. Jason picked up on that, and as much as he knew she’d look great on top of him, he was too impatient for that right now. He pulled her forward so her vagina was right over his cock and she whined as she rapidly started grinding on him, shivering at the skin on skin contact. 

“As sexy as this is princess,” Jason started, rolling them again to have her under him, “I don’t think I can wait anymore.” He panted out.

“Then take me,” She breathed back, the moment slowing and calming from that rush and teasing. She wrapped her one hand around the side of his neck and kissed him deep and slow. Breaking away for only a moment, she breathed against his lips; “I’ve always been yours,”

Jason let his forehead rest against (Y/N)s, the moment still. He opened his eyes and he saw the way her usually bright eyes were darker, pupils blown with lust. He also noticed the way they shone with adoration. He brought his lips back to hers as he guided himself into her. He tried to be slow and gentle, but the moment his cock entered her wet and clenching hole, he lost control. The kiss was broken by (Y/N) throwing her head back and moaning loudly as he thrust all the way into her. He stilled, feeling her wince slightly as he entered. He peppered her neck with kisses in the meantime. As her walls fluttered around his member, he felt her breathing return to a more stable panting, no longer tinged with pain. When her hands gripped his shoulders and she slowly rolled her hips again, he gripped her hips and slowly slid himself out, only to push in slowly. He kept his thrusts deep, albeit too slow, and made sure to pay attention to her body.

She dug her nails and threw her head back at the sensation. She adored the sensual and passionate vibes, it was better than the harsh fucking she was expecting. She brought her hands up to his neck as she brought her head forward to kiss him long and slow. Love and tenderness filled the room. When she broke away, their lips stayed touching as she stared into his deep green/blue eyes. She felt at peace for the first time in her life.

A/N :Let me know how bad this was and if you want to read more of this story