#~lio writes

[writingintohell]

The warm night in winter - Day 2 of the Christmas Collection

Word count: 1019

Theme: Missing a loved one at christmas

The planetarium was cold. Too cold. Belphie was buried under three thick weighted blankets, and had four pillows, two under his head to prop him up, and one on either side of his neck, supporting it. Solomon had gifted him some enchanted socks for Yule, a human holiday, as well as some hot chocolate. Belphie had managed to pawn off the hot chocolate to Rapheal, as indigestion was not something that he particularly wanted to deal with. It was bad enough when Beel got a stomach ache from the sorcerer’s food, and Beel had a stomach that was tougher than iron. 

A cold draft swept through the room, and Belphie shivered, despite the layers around him. Back in the Celestial Realm, Lilith and him would often sneak down during the winter time to observe human traditions. The candles that they would light to keep away the shadows of the night, the pine or evergreen trees that they would drag in and decorate with white candy canes and apples to spruce up the atmosphere. The houses would be cosy and warm, with blankets not unlike the ones Belphie had on him draped across himself, and the families would talk and laugh until they would all go to their rooms to rest for the night. 

Lilith had always loved peering in, watching the humans go about their daily lives. She would often carry a large leather book with her to write down and document all the comings and goings of the families. There would be pages and pages of detail at times, about a girl who had been proposed to and was getting married the next month, or an elderly couple that went out to chop wood together, their shoes becoming sodden with the cold snow. The two angels would sit together and observe, the snow covering them both in a sheet of white that spread out amongst the town, making the world seem so still, so quiet. 

Sitting in the observatory all alone, Belphie’s heart began to burn with anger. Anger at his father. Anger at the Celestial Realm. Anger at the humans for taking his beloved sister away from him and for himself, for ending up in the Devildom. He knew ever since he had been released from the attic by the human exchange student, things were going to have to be different in terms of his views towards humans, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a sense of rage towards those that his sister ended up with. It should have been the three of them, like it always was, him, Beel, and Lilith. 

The seven, well, eight of them were a big family, living in the House of Lamentation. Belphie didn’t regret falling everyday, there were a lot of good things that ended up coming out of The Fall. Becoming a Lord of the Devildom, getting top-notch treatment from demons, being able to access a lot of places and read a lot of things that he probably would have never thought about if he was still living in the Celestial Realm. 

Being able to see Simeon and Luke was nice, he thought. Luke was still very much a feral chihuahua, something that was still almost reassuring to see. Belphie thought that it was nice to see that despite everything, despite the centuries that had passed, some things never, ever changed. 

The sound of loud footsteps interrupted his wander down memory lane. Squeaky shoes. The matt of bright ginger hair popped into view, a stark contrast from the darker colour scheme of the observatory in general. Belphie could just make out two stern looking over at him from underneath a mountain of pillows and blankets.  Looking down at his brother, Beel sighed.

“You missed dinner, you know. I was worried that you’d fallen asleep in the bath again.”

Belphie scowled jokingly at his twin, flicking his two-toned hair out of his face. 

“I do that one time, and suddenly I’m going to drown if I step out of your line of sight for more than thirty seconds.”

Walking over to his brother and plopping down the pillows and blankets before rearranging them to spread comfortably, Beel turned around and sat down on them. 

“I have a right to be worried, you know. Last time you went off somewhere I didn’t see you for more than two months, and then found out that you had been stuck in the attic the whole time because Lucifer thought that would be a good idea, for some reason.”

Belphie snorted and rolled over onto his side so that he was facing Beel.

“I got out though, didn’t I? It’s not like I was stuck in there forever.”

Beel smiled, but there was a look of melancholy in his eyes that neither of them decided to comment on. They both knew what had happened after Belphie had been let out of the attic.

Changing the subject, Beel asked,”What are you doing in here anyway?”

Looking away, Belphie mumbled, “Thinking about Lilith.”

The silence seemed to stretch out between the two of them before Beel rolled over and wrapped Belphie in a hug, which could only be described as being a grape being run over by a tractor. Belphie coughed twice and frantically tapped his brother on the shoulder, trying to get him to loosen up. Beel quickly got the hint, and relaxed his arms enough so that the hug was still tight enough to be comforting, but not so much that it cut off ventilation.

Looking down at his brother, Beel patted him on the head gently.

“Lilith would want us to be happy, you know. She was always the best of us when it came to that.”

Belphie looked up at his brother and smiled.

“Like the time she called Micheal an octopus?”

Beel chuckled softly at that.

“Exactly, she was always there to speak her mind, even when it wasn’t the best time for it to be spoken.”

Rolling onto his back and looking up at the stars, Belphie let out a contented sigh.

“Happy Yule, Beel.”

“Happy Yule, Belphie,”

[aliorsboxostuff]

Can I request grey house x male reader fluff or smut is fine , if that's not too much

Yessss honestly i was in the mood to write some fluff but if this turns out slightly bitter sweet erm,,,, i can only apologize hgdhdghjfjgh i can only write House so much before he goes out of character HAHAHA 

Within his arms.

Tags: Greg House x M!reader, Greg House, male!Reader, doctor!reader, Allison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman, fluff, slight OOC on House's side whoops, Cuddling, Bantering, just pure cuteness and maybe bittersweet at the end.

The tests are done, and the results are on House’s desk. Surely he wouldn't mind you taking a short nap before checking in with the patient, right?

—

It was midnight, precisely 15 minutes past 12 AM. 

For the past 3 days, the current patient House’s team is diagnosing has been going from stable to unstable in a matter of hours. With each problem they solved, another pop-up, and with the week ending it seems like you'd have to cancel your weekend plans if the patient's condition keeps deteriorating. 

You’ve just finished the last batch of blood tests, eyes grimy as you try to blink away the claws of sleep. There were a couple of times where you had to violently jerk yourself away, and then hold the urge to stick a needle of adrenaline into yourself just to keep testing stuff.

Somewhere in your head, about a couple of hours ago, Cameron came by to tell you that House might still be in his office until late. She was the only other doctor who knew of your little crush on the diagnostician, and pity you for it. You don't blame her. After knowing what the girl went through with him, you can't help but be sympathetic, though, despite her blatant warning, your heart can't seem to stop doing flips whenever House is around. 

A machine beeps. You grumble, standing from where you sat to retrieve the result.

“I should check in on House…” You mumble, betting on him still being around. 

Stumbling through the halls, you finally made it to your Boss’ office, and while it’s disappointing, you're not surprised he’s no longer present. The man must've gone home ages ago, he probably was packing up when Cameron informed you of his overtime possibility. You sigh, dropping the results of the blood tests on his desk before your eyes glance at the couch, enticing you with its soft cushions. 

The tests are done, and the results are on House’s desk. Surely he wouldn't mind you taking a short nap before checking in with the patient, right?

You check the perimeters, around the office and into the hall. House is nowhere to be seen. The night shift nurses as milling about, busy with their patients to monitor. Finally, you nudge the door to close softly, the glass making a short clink, before you drape your aching body onto the sofa. After hours of testing and sitting hunched on the stool, the sofa comforts your back. Groaning as you stretch your arms above your head, fringe dropping slightly as your head leans back.

You sigh, relieved, a mixture of boredom and sleepyness a toxic concoction luring you to close your heavy eyes. You drape your arms around yourself, your lab coat long forgotten somewhere in the office. Bringing your legs to your chest, you lean slightly to your left, resting your cheek on the headrest, eyes fluttering close. Surely House, if he was still even here, wouldn't mind, right? 

If he did he would've shouted at me by now, that was the last thought you had before darkness slowly engulfed your vision, even the insistent tapping of a familiar cane didn't wake you.

—

“–ow are they so comfortable together? That couch is way too small,” 

“And House is all long limbs and- Honestly its impressive,” 

“Can't you two just hurry up and grab my phone? I can take a picture of them!” 

Soft light slowly penetrates your grogginess, eyes blinking open, trying to adjust to your slow-awakening nerves. You yawn, sighing at the feeling of being well-rested, it felt comfy and warm, something soft draped over your body, and someone’s long arms wrapped around you. Leaning back slightly to try and greedily soak up what is left of the person's warmth, a small smile makes it way to your lips when-

Wait. Someone? 

“Are you three going to keep gawking or should I test how hard I can throw my cane?” House’s voice snaps at your senses, vibrating through you as your ears are pressed beneath his collarbone. You hear the man behind you groan, knowing House he probably gave the team the worst eye roll known to mankind. 

“I thought I asked for the test results last night? I don't see them on my desk,” His tone drops lower. Instead of seeing, you hear a quick sequence of shuffling and shoes shuffling on carpeted floors, knowing it must be your other co-workers hurrying out of the office. 

You gulp, finally finding your voice after you're sure it won't crack. “The results are already on your desk, know…”

House nods above you. His chin rests atop your head. “I’ve read through them.” 

He pauses. “You got the PTT wrong.”

“No? I’m sure it didn't…” Your voice fades.

You feel House shift. He moves your legs to drape over the couch’s armrest, alleviating more of his limped leg. “No, but I just bought us another half an hour, so unless you want to go back to acting professional, I suggest you-”

“No,” You croak out. “No it’s…. Fine. Thanks,” 

You feel House sighs. Either way, you decide to push your luck as you lean deeper into the doctor's neck, sighing, and pull at the blanket further. Something deep in you worries, a ball of anxiety growing steadily. You don't know if House knows of your little infatuation, if he resents it or lets it fester to consume you whole. He and his puzzles are too advanced for you to understand, though eventually, it boils down to his entertainment. Is he letting you do this to see how far you’ll go? 

Suddenly, you feel House’s hand rest on your shoulder, one finger tapping gently. “You lucky I was also staying late last night,”

You hum, relief settles in. Despite the outcome of this predicament, sleeping in House’s embrace while the man himself seems content enough to let you off the hook, you cherish this and compile it into your memory. 

Requests are open! Reblogs appreciated <3

[soaphawk]

thinking about musician!ghost a lot, because ghost can sing

♡ he’s shy about it, of course, he’s a private man. wouldn’t be caught dead singing in front of anyone, ever.

♡ but after every op, fuck, sometimes during the ops, you’ll catch him humming softly behind the mask.

♡ after an op, ghost is cleaning himself up. he doesn’t notice you—or doesn’t care that you’re there, he trusts you—singing softly to himself while he bandages up his busted knuckles

♡ he flushes bright red when he finishes, realizing you’ve listened to every word.

♡ of course, he tries to downplay it, “oh, i’m not that good” but you know better. who knew simon riley had such a soft spot?

♡ its the one thing from his life that he’s always had, that has always been safe. safety is fleeting for him, this was his only comfort. before you came along, this was all he had, the only thing no one could steal from him.

♡ slowly but surely, he opens up. he sings more, a little more open around you. when his voice hitches on a hard note, he flinches, thinking you’re going to hate it, that he’s proved he’s not good ):

♡ your encouragement spurs him on, though. the way your eyes flutter as you lean against his shoulder, one of his big hands stroking your hair back, singing quietly to you until you fall asleep. (he’s learned all your favorite songs)

♡ you have nightmares, just like he does, and the way he soothes you back to sleep is by singing lullabies to you until you’re cuddled up in his arms again. “it’s no bother,” he says, “love singing for you, dove.”

[ladylooch]

Best Thing I’ll Ever Do - Lio x Savannah (Part 4)

ICYMI: Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3

A/N: The way you all are not gonna recognize Lio in this AT ALL. Ah, I am so proud of him! He is sooooo good for Sav in these moments. So strong, dependable, the voice of reason when she needs him to be, and how he loves her so throughly. AH! I cannot wait to hear your thoughts! Enjoy 😊

Word count: 4.4k

November’s date night has been an absolute dream. Savannah feels like she is floating from being swept off her feet by her husband. He planned every minute perfectly. She feels so loved and understood by him when he adds in details she mentions in passing- like the new restaurant she showed him on Instagram that he booked reservations for tonight. Or the way he remembered that she specifically wanted their viral dessert, so he called ahead to make sure they saved one for them. 

In the darkness of the car, Lio holds her hand on his right thigh. He flicks the blinker up, signaling as he exits the freeway to wind through their neighborhood. Savannah leans forward, running her right hand along Lio’s chest. She cups his neck, pressing her lips into the opposite side of his throat. Her teeth nibble in places as she works her way down to the sweet spot in the crook of his shoulder. Lio sighs, removing his hand from hers to glide up her thigh. 

Savannah opens her eyes, kissing along his jaw bone. When he gets to a red light, Lio turns, grabbing her face so he can kiss her deeply.

“Mmm.” She sighs into their kiss. 

The light changes and Lio begrudgingly lets go of her chin to keep driving them home. Her lips go back to his throat, working it over while her hand drifts down to cup his hard cock. Lio’s fingers work under the skirt of her dress, palming her ass as she turns onto one hip. He kneads his fingers into her bare cheek, making Savannah moan into his skin. 

“Drive faster.” She requests breathlessly. “Need you in my mouth.” She undoes his Prada belt, keeping her lips pressed on his warm, pink skin, then she follows her hands down. 

“Baby.” Lio groans, squeezing her ass tighter as she kisses his erection over his pants. 

“Hurry, Lee.” 

“We’re home.” He tells her, tossing the car in park.

Savannah squeals as Lio unclips her seatbelt. She falls face first into his lap while he laughs, hand coming to the back of her head to hold her there for a moment. He presses up into her mouth then releases her with a slap of her ass.

“That’s for teasing me.” Savannah sits up, flipping her hair back and biting her lip.

“You should make me pay for that inside.” Lio’s smiles softly, holding her cheek again. 

“Kinda wanted to make love to you tonight.” Savannah’s lower lip immediately pushes out in a pout. 

“Lio Meier is a make love kinda guy. Hell froze over!” She exclaims, leaning forward to kiss him deeply. She drapes an arm across his shoulders, running her fingers through his hair.

“I’ll be making love to you forever, beautiful.”

“Mmm, I know.” She confirms, then kisses him again. “Let’s go!” She bounces on her knees, them untucks her legs to get out of the car.

“Wait for me.” Lio requests. He gets out of the car, walking around to her door. He opens it, then presents his hand for her to use to get out. Her heels click on the sidewalk as she stands proudly next to him. He shuts the door, then wraps an arm around her waist, leading her securely to their front door. 

Once inside, Lio grabs Savannah’s purse, putting it on the entry way table so he can work her jacket down her arms. He places it in the closet while she steps out of her shoes. After his coat is hung as well, they walk together to the stairs, climbing them side by side to their bedroom. 

Savannah gathers her blonde hair up into a makeshift pony tail for Lio’s fingers to work her zipper down her back. One slim strap after the other falls down her shoulders. Lio pulls her back by her stomach into his hard shaft, grinding it into her ass. Savannah sighs, reaching around to hold him there. Her head falls to the side as Lio’s lips brush along her shoulder.

Lio moves his leg forward, encouraging her to step towards the bed. Then his hands on her hips turn her in his grasp. He kisses the front of her shoulder, then down to the swell of her left breast. He bites her there, savoring the redness of her skin under his touch. Lio forces the dress the rest of the way down her body so it pools at their feet. Eager fingers come to Lio’s shirt tucked into his pants, pulling it out and working his belt apart. Lio scoops up Savannah’s breasts in his hands, gently thumbing her nipples into hard peaks. Her head falls forward, caught by Lio’s chest as he smirks into her hair. 

“Lay down, baby.” He whispers, nudging her backwards until her knees hit the side of their bed. Savannah complies, spreading her legs for Lio to follow her down to the mattress. He hooks one of her knees around his hip while they kiss, grinding his bulge into the wetness of her core.

Little whimpers drop from Savannah’s mouth as Lio works his lips around one of her nipples. Shivers of pleasure dash down her arms, collecting in her clit until it pulses, calling for Lio to shift his attention south. She grabs his hand, moving it from next to her hip to her core, pressing his fingers deeper into her folds. Lio moves her panties to the side, stroking the tips of his fingers through her wetness until she bucks up into his hand. Lio pulls back, raking his blue eyes over her face as he gives her the tight circles she needs. His eyes are feral, passionate, like the look of her below him by it’s self is enough for him to finish. She moans his name breathlessly. 

“Babe, I want you inside of me.” She pleads, running her fingers down his arms.

“Patience, beautiful. I’ll be worth the wait.” He mumbles next to her belly button as he continues to kiss down her body.

“Oh!” She gasps, gripping the sheets next to her hips as Lio strokes his tongue up her slit. “Wow.” She continues, spreading her legs wider for him as he settles on his knees off the bed. He pulls her down to his mouth, rolling his tongue up from her entrance to her clit. Her hand drifts down to her thigh, asking for his hand. He slides his fingers into hers, rubbing his thumb along her pointer finger as his mouth continues to work her over.

His lips hold over her clit, lightly suctioning her into his mouth, savoring the sharp inhale of her breath. He knows she’s loving this, but of course she has to tell him too.

“Oh, that feels so good.” She cries, fading off with a moan as he goes in for another lap with his tongue. Her muscles clench, collapsing around an uninvited emptiness. Savannah reaches down, stroking his cheek with her hand as she curls her knees up closer to her chest. 

“Lay still.” Lio murmurs, knowing she is adjusting for her release. “I’ll give you what you need.” He assures her. Because he can now, especially this way. Lio glides her legs back to where they were, but resting his middle finger at her opening. In tandem with his mouth, the finger glides into her wet heat. “Ohmygod.” Savannah sighs immediately. Lio grins into her folds. She’s gonna be a wreck for him in under a minute. 

Synchronized strokes of her entire pussy have Savannah trembling hard on the bed. Lio builds and builds the tempo and pressure exactly as she taught him. Her fingers fist their expensive sheets as her mind goes blank, only capable of following every stroke of her husband’s tongue through her slit. White explosions blast along her eyelids as she comes loudly and wetly into Lio’s mouth. He slurps her up greedily, whimpering at her taste coasting his tongue. 

“Mmmm, baby.” He moans. “Taste so good tonight. Never wanna leave this pussy.”

“Yeah?” Savannah asks, watching with lowered lids as he kisses along her pubic bone, nuzzling his nose into her short hairs there. 

“Yeah. Fucking love how you taste for me.” He compliments, then drags his coated fingers along his tongue, groaning at the taste on his tongue. 

Savannah’s eyes close in pure ecstasy. Fuck, he drives her wild. 

“You’ve been such a good girl for me.”

“Yeah.” She snaps, grabbing his hand and trying to pull him forward. Lio chuckles at her eagerness. “Reward me.” She smiles coyly as she says it. 

Lio shoves his pants and boxer briefs down his thighs, gripping his cock in his hand as he steps out of his clothes. Savannah’s blue eyes drink in the sight of him, strong muscles, gorgeous thick lines coming to a V where he seeps at the tip for her. 

“I love you.” He murmurs, smiling cutely, eating up her mouth as he leans over her. Savannah cups his face, kissing him deeply as his swollen head meets her core. 

“I love you more.” She mumbles. He grins into their kiss, then pushes in, biting her bottom lip when he reaches the hilt. Savannah pants into Lio’s open mouth, collecting his tongue with hers. “Fuck, you feel like heaven.” 

“Made for me, baby.” He compliments her. 

Lio gathers her knees by hooking them in his elbows, working her legs up to create the positioning she loves. Savannah moans loudly, wetness filling the room with each of Lio’s pumps into her. 

“I love you so much, Savannah.” He pulls her tighter into his chest, not letting her move at all as he fucks deep inside of her. Her head bobs back, hair tickling his forearms.

“You’ve helped me become a better man. Better partner. Better brother. Better son.” His lips collect her needy gasps. After each comment, his thrusts began to increase, until the bed squeaks in protest beneath their bodies.

“Better everything. I don’t know who I would be without you. I’m glad I’ll never know.” He feels her begin to shake in his hands as he fills her need and desire to be more than just a body to him. She’s the complete package and he wants her to know it tonight. Sure, they’re married and she should know. But Lio didn’t go through losing her to leave anything to chance.

“I’m never leaving your side. You and me forever, baby. No one else.” He assures her, collecting her moans as she comes hard around him. Her walls concave into his cock, ripping the orgasm out of him quickly with his persistent pumps into her. 

Lio kisses all along her face and upper body as they both come down from their highs. Then he slides out of her, rolling her to her side so he can continue to kiss and love on her. He holds her breasts, kissing them too in a worshipping way, then back up her body. He works them both back up before he throws her leg over this hips, driving into her and fucking his cum deeper inside of her, just to fill her back up again. 

When they finish their second round, they both begin to drift to sleep, wrapped in each other. Lio has her crushed into his chest, buried under the blankets except for her nose and eyes. His gentle snores make her face rise and fall on his chest. He twitches slightly in his sleep, then pulls her tighter still. 

Savannah smiles into his warm skin, then kisses his chest. She feels Lio’s seed creating a sticky mess between her thighs. She crosses her legs, keeping what she can inside of her and off the bed. 

By morning, it will all have leaked between her thighs, but she doesn’t think twice about the consequences of what is inside of her. 

- - - 

Deep under her duvet, Savannah Meier bites her tongue as another wave of nausea threatens her stomach. She places her palm over it, willing everything inside of her to settle down. She already had to cancel all her meetings today and lunch with Liv, who was in from California. The last thing she wants is to create more work her weak body can’t do by throwing up in this bed. 

“Baby I’m home!” Lio calls out after the front door shuts. He is returning from team meetings. “How you doing?” He asks, voice getting closer with his hard footsteps on the floor.

“Shitty.” She moans.

“Oh, baby.” He whines, pouting at her. “What are we gonna do with you? Should we just let you die like this?”

“Yeah.” She whimpers.

“Well, I can’t live without you, so I’m gonna have to go first somehow.”

“Your brothers would probably do it for you.” Lio laughs.

“I could outrun those little shits.”

“You’re supposed to want to die.” She reminds him.

“Oh…” He pauses, rubbing her thigh over the blanket. “Yeah. Maybe Connor instead. He would make it quick out of respect.”

Despite her current circumstances, Savannah chuckles then groans.

“Ugh my boobs hurt so bad too.” 

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I just want to lay here by myself.” 

“Okay.” He kisses her. “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.” 

The rest of the day, Savannah drifts in and out of sleep. She requests ginger ale from Lio, who happily complies and brings in some Crunchmaster crackers for her to snack on if she needs. The combination of the two help, allowing Savannah to take a three hour nap. When she wakes, it’s because Lio is coming in to check on her.

“Babe, it's around dinner time. I was thinking of getting some soup from the corner. Is that all you want, or a sandwich too?”

“Just soup.” She moans. “Do we have any tums?”

“Yeah, I’ll grab some for you.” He walks into their bathroom, rummaging through the drawers for the medicine she requested.  “Um, babe?” Lio says, grabbing the unopened box of tampons from her side of the bathroom. “Are you late?” He asks. Savannah tilts her head at him. They had to make a special trip to buy that box on the way home from a game in preparing for the following days. But now the same box sits there as purchased.

“No… well… I guess a little, maybe?”

“You’re usually never late.” He murmurs, confused.

Although most men probably aren’t in sync with their wives cycles, Lio has become accustom over the years in his support of Savannah’s journey, including having access to her period app she used to track everything in the midst of all her changes with the specialist. She gropes for her phone on the nightstand to pull it up. The app immediately gives her a notification that she may be late, or reminds her to put in her last period. She pauses. This is weird. 

“Why would I be late…?” She trails off, mostly speaking to herself. She nibbles her bottom lip, then looks up at Lio. He raises his eyebrows at her. “What?”

“No reason you could possibly be late?” He trails off.

“Lio, I’m not pregnant.” She rolls her eyes. “Can’t. We’ve been over this.” 

“You have always said can’t…. The doctors never said can’t…” He reminds her. He is trying to be gentle, but Savannah feels anger bubble up in her chest. 

“Okay.” She snaps. She flips her blonde, disheveled hair over her shoulder. 

“Don’t get upset. It is reasonable.”

“No, it’s not.” She scoffs at him. “And I’m allowed to not like that you’re bringing it up as an option.” Lio backs off. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. That may be coming off hurtful, but it’s not my intention. I’m sure it will come.” 

But it doesn’t. So when Savannah is over 14 days late while still refusing to take a pregnancy test, Lio takes matters into his own hands. He comes home from practice with a Target bag. He puts it on the counter, pulling out refills of hand soap, a few chocolate bars requested from his wife, her face wash and two different brands of pregnancy tests. Savannah’s mouth starts to open in protest. 

“Before you jump down my throat.” He holds his hands up in a truce. “Go take it. If it’s negative, then fine we know. But this…” He gestures to her overall avoiding disposition. “Is not working for me.” 

“Lio.” Savannah sighs, rubbing at her forehead. “I have Endo, have been told my whole life having kids is likely impossible, and I’m on birth control pills.” She shakes her head. “This is going to be negative.”

“Okay. Go be right then and take the test.” He shoves them towards her. She looks down at them, already having the sinking feeling of being mocked by the pictured two blue lines she won’t be seeing in three minutes. 

Savannah is right. She doesn’t see the two blue lines in three minutes. She sees them in twenty seconds. She is so in shock, she doesn’t even stop the timer on her phone. She blinks, then raises her gaze to her reflection in the mirror. Her mouth is gaped open, face white as ash, as she brings the pregnancy test up to eye level. 

This can’t be right. 

Savannah rips open the remaining tests in both boxes dipping them in the cup she peed into to control the testing process.

“Oh my god!” She yells when they all light up quickly. “Lio!” 

Lio comes running into the bedroom as she rips open the bathroom door. 

“I’m dying! I have cancer! They’re all positive! All four of them! Like immediately positive!” Lio’s look of concern drops and he blankly stares at Savannah, blinking rapidly as he tries to formulate a response.

“Babe.” He says very tenderly. He steps forward, gripping the tops of her arms. “You have four positive pregnancy tests on the counter in there?” She nods, tears racing down her cheeks as she begins to shake. “And you’re late?” He pauses, moving his hands up to cup her cheeks. “And you’ve been sick?” He licks his lips, voice beginning to shake a bit. “And your boobs hurt?” He laughs gently. “Baby, I think you’re pregnant.”

“No.” She says immediately.

“Okay, maybe this is ah, just um, a…” He trails off, swallowing hard because he too is kind of freaking out, in a really good way, and he wishes Savannah was feeling any sort of joy from this. “Maybe you’re just trying to protect yourself right now. But we should try to think what’s more likely.”

“I’m not.” She says, swallowing hard. “I’m- I’m seriously Lio, I’m not.” She shakes her head. Lio collects her into his chest.

“Let’s go be sure, okay? I’ll call Dr. Barnes.” 

Dr. Barnes isn’t in until the next morning, but the clinic squeezes Savannah in right away at 8:00am. She pees in a cup and gets blood work drawn, then returns to the room they placed her in when her and Lio arrived. Lio waits in a chair opposite the door, standing to help her up onto the exam table. Neither of them talk, unable to move forward in any sense of the way until the doctor comes in with answers. 

A knock sounds at the door, breaking Lio and Savannah’s silence.

“Hi. Good morning to you both.” Dr. Barnes comes in with a polite smile. She shuts the door, then goes over to sit down on the stool. “Well, we don’t always get to have exciting moments like this. But yes, you are pregnant, Savannah.” Dr. Barnes lets her words sink in the air. Then clears her throat at the lack of response from them both. “I am sure this is a shock. But I figured, since you’re here, we can do an ultrasound and give you a visual. It can be helpful in processing this surprising news.”

“I…” Savannah’s mouth hangs open. Her heartbeats so hard and fast in her chest, she is sure the doctor and Lio can hear it. Lio. Oh my god. Lio Meier who doesn’t want babies is now going to be a father. A lightheaded wave collapses over her. “I’m gonna pass out.” Savannah cries. Lio and Dr. Barnes stand up, each grabbing an arm to gently lay her back on the bed. “How could this happen?” She asks the room, eyes rapidly moving back and forth, searching for an answer on the ceiling.

“Everything came together perfectly.” Dr. Barnes states.

“How!? I’m on pills.. I have Endo so bad it lights up all over the scans. What!?” She practically howls.

“Well, that was before your surgery.” Dr. Barnes cautions. “As for birth control, it isn’t 100% effective.”

“Well you would think it would be in my case!?” She slaps her hand on her forehead, continuing to breathe heavily. “Oh my god.” She closes her eyes as an avalanche of nausea collapses in her stomach. Lio rubs her shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s okay, babe.” Lio assures her.

“It’s not going to stick.” Savannah says. “I’m going to lose it. The tissue isn’t conducive for pregnancy.” 

“I understand the concern. But the hardest part is implantation with tissue irregularities and here you are. By the looks of your blood work, around 7 weeks pregnant.” Dr. Barnes addresses immediately. 

“I won’t.. carry to term though. It won’t work.”

“We don’t know that for your case, Savannah.” Dr. Barnes speaks calmly and clearly, holding her hand as she speaks. “Right now, we should shift our focus to what we can control. Like this ultrasound, discussing prenatal vitamins and getting you scheduled for an appointment in two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” She sniffs. Lio gently wipes the tears falling down from the corner of her eye. She hiccups slightly from the emotions breeding in her chest. 

“With your medical history, it will be a high-risk pregnancy. I want to see you more frequently. That does not mean you will have complications. We just don’t know yet. We will have to see how your pregnancy progresses.” Savannah’s eyes drift away from the doctor to Lio. She licks her lips, feeling the fear grip her throat at ruining the entire trajectory of his life. 

“Ahh okay, but can- can I talk to Lio alone, please?” 

“Yes, of course.” Dr. Barnes agrees, then slides from the room, leaving them alone.

“You don’t want this.” Savannah immediately blurts when the door closes. “We should.. discuss-”

“We are going to be parents.” He cuts her off, wondrously. Savannah inhales sharply. Her and Lio stare at each other in silence again for a few pauses. His blue eyes swim with tears, so unexpectedly. He steps closer to her, cupping her cheeks in both of his hands. Savannah feels the splash of his tears on her cheeks and she begins to sob into their kiss. The feeling is indescribable. Adrenaline and hope sprint through her veins as she clutches his shirt in a fist between their bodies. “Baby, we are pregnant!” He says incredulously. He laughs excitedly, then wraps his arms around her shoulders. “We are having a baby.” He whispers into her ear, clutching her head with the hand threading through her hair.

“You don’t have to pretend. If this isn’t what you want-“

“Baby, oh my god, I am so excited I could run a fuckin’ marathon. Please. Be present with me in this moment. We are going to be parents. Our dream is coming true.” 

Our dream. Their dream. Not hers. Theirs.

Savannah begins to sob hard. It’s worst case scenario for her: he is excited. Overjoyed. Over the moon. And he doesn’t understand the risks of their case. It’s like all the cautions they need to consider went right through his brain and out the other side. 

“I’m so scared. Lee, you cannot get attached this.. it might not..”

“But it might.” He corrects her tenderly. “But it might.” He whispers to her again after pulling away to look into her eyes. “Let’s go see our baby on the ultrasound. Maybe we can hear the heartbeat.” 

It’s too early, so they don’t.

But they see the little blob of their baby on the screen in black and white. They are holding hands when they find out their due date is August 7th. As hard as Savannah tries to be realistic about these odds, she is already in love with this baby. Their baby. Her baby.

She is pretty sure she floats out of that office with her ultrasound pictures in her purse. She scans the room of pregnant women waiting, connecting immediately with the sight because she is one of them. She starts to laugh, tears building in her eyes as her and Lio push through to the winter scene outside. 

“We’re having a baby.” She tells Lio. He grins back at her, then wraps her up into his chest for a hug. 

“Yeah, babe. We are.” Lio’s hand drifts down to cup her flat stomach, pressing in slightly. Savannah puts her hand over his as Lio’s lips cover hers. When they pull apart, Lio can see the deep fear returning to her face as her mind rushes over how fucking hard it would be now. To lose this. To know she is pregnant and not be able to keep it. To not be able to hold their baby in her arms 

“I know you’re scared.” Lio nods. “I’m a little scared too. But baby, we’re doing this together. All of it. The good, the bad, the maybe devastating, I don’t know. What I do know is I’m going to be right here holding your hand. No matter what.” Savannah nods, letting Lio wipe her tears away.

She has never needed anyone as badly as she needs Lio right now. 

Her fingers lace with his, body feeling heavy with each step knowing what she carries inside of her now. Lio opens her door for her, watching her carefully as she slides into the passenger seat. He comes around to the driver’s side, getting in quickly to avoid the chilly wind.

“First dad hunch here, it’s a girl.” He says as he puts the key in the ignition. “I don’t know why. I have nothing to go off here, but on the screen it looked like a girl.” 

For a moment, Savannah lets herself picture it: a little girl with a pink t-shirt, and little blue jean overalls, baby blue Nikes on her feet, with pigtails that runs around a backyard with Stella and Winnie Wood. 

All of it is a surreal dream.

One Savannah won’t let herself fully believe is coming until well into her second trimester.

Read more Lio and Savannah here.

[etoiline]

Hey, remember how last year right about this time there was some Star Wars game that came out? Some sequel with a ginger and a sidekick voiced by Noshir Dalal? Yeah, that one.

You might have noticed I've been obsessing about Star Wars Jedi Survivor, if you've perused my Tumblr at all in the past year. I've played the game 9 times through since it came out, and taken thousands of pictures in photomode, and realized I really enjoy writing fanfiction--I wrote my first fic in 20 years because of this game. (I can't explain it either. I wrote one fix-it back then and then just said nah to any others, even though I've shipped plenty since then. Just never wrote them down.) I've posted a new fic every month since last December!

I fell hard into my very first rarepair in Cal and Bode, and probably a big part of that is the community I found for it. I'm really pleased to have found some new friends (quite a feat at my advanced age, lol).

To celebrate the one-year anniversary of the Jedi Survivor game release, a few of us spyscrapper fans got together and wrote and drew some stuff and @voidcat-senket put them all together. I had the honor of getting shapes made of my words by the exceptionally talented Lio (@corvidscreams) and every time I see it I am blown away by the fact something I wrote is illustrated, and so beautifully.

paper and stone is a bit of an exploration of Cal's psychometry and what would happen if he found a few more of Bode's memories in that apartment on Nova Garon. We hardly get to know Bode's wife Tayala in the game; here you get to see more of her, and how love perseveres.

I really hope you like it. Check out the rest of the collection too!

Here's to one year of Survivor!

[linkspooky]

wip wednesday

Updated WIP for my Azulaang fic.

The worst part was that Aang had found her beautiful. Aang was suddenly forced to bear witness to a naked truth. Azula was a girl. Not only was she a girl, she was a beautiful girl.  Until now, he’d believed Azula hard and made of steel like a machine of war with a fire burning inside her. Now he saw her soft flesh.What he'd thought was a blazing inferno that burned everything that touched her was a gentle warmth that permeated her skin. The girl that had always been hiding underneath the fire nation black and red armor. A beautiful girl. 

It was tradition in this household to cleanse one’s body before being let into the spiritual archives. Aang respected tradition, even if spiritualism in the fire nation was different from the air nomads. 

(He also needed a bath, running away from conflict worked up quite a sweat). Step by step, he followed the little footpath of smooth, colorful pebbles under the luxuriant canopy of flowering wisteria blossoms until he found the entrance to the bath. Inside the changing room a low shelf carved from the bluestone had been placed to hold the bather’s clothes. In his eagerness to get into the water on a cold winter day (by fire nation standards) he failed to notice two other tubs packed with clothing sitting on the shelf. Aang took off his clothing, it was easy to get undressed with the simple way airbenders dressed. Imagine how many layers Zuko had to take off to bathe, especially with those huge shoulde roads.  He left his clothes in a wooden washtub, and after lifting the thin hemp curtain with one hand strode inside. 

Stream drifted through the air, it gently unfurled out from the pool, drifting slowly, filling every corner and crevice blurring his vision.  With that and the dim moonlight it was difficult to see more than a few shuka in front of you. It gave the baths a spiritual aura, like he’d stepped in the river that separated this world from the far shore.Flowers bloomed along the borders of the pool, their shed petals floated on the surface, and there was a small waterfall at the end of the pond for rinsing. 

It was pleasantly warm. Aang couldn't help the soft sigh of content that escaped him. He felt like a kid again bathing in the air temple hot springs with the other children. He let loose for a moment, extending his slender limbs and swimming all the way to the waterfall with a splash. 

Just as he rose from the water and wiped his face, he noticed someone was already showering in the surging waterfall with their back turned.

Lio. Aang should have known better to watch Lio from someplace unseen like a total stalker creep weirdo, but he stopped to watch their back as if possessed by some kind of spell. 

Their back was held tall and straight, the contours sharp and defined. But with the stars illuminating the steam Aang could make out countless scars, burn scars, and what looked to be whip marks on the center of their back. A body full of wounds. A body full of scars. So many it was impossible to find a piece of untouched flesh. 

There was no need to mention how much those wounds should hurt. 

Water fell down from above almost as if to cool off those burns, cascading over their body, rivulets gathering into a stream down the wide expanse of their back, down the valleys and peaks of their intricately carved muscles and finally into the divet between their buttocks. The water seemed infatuated with their body, clinging to them in a light stream that was loath to part. 

Lio’s head turned halfway to meet Aang’s gaze, just as Aang jerked his head up to preserve some of Lio’s dignity, “Hey, Aangie have you come to do some naked male bonding?”

“My best features are my back and my butt? What do you think, Aangie?”

Lio said , strode out from under the waterfall and pressed his hands on the rock wall blocking everything behind his massive back from view. 

That back took up Aang’s entire view. Their hair had grown out and fell in black, wild tangles just past their shoulder. Those shoulder blades slid down the small of their back. Aang’s esys followed the downward curve of their spine, their full and firm buttocks, and eyes ficxed on those fair plump curves for a moment because his head jerked up again. . “I think you are uh, very attractive, and you are connvingly using your attractiveness to try to distract me from asking about how you got that scar on your back.”

“Oh, I was a naughty boy and I was whipped before I was banished. It’s nothing… compared to the trouble I caused Li and my family back then it was absolutely nothing.” .” 

“Your pain isn’t nothing.” “Haha, what pretty words. Did the airbenders teach you to talk that way, or are you just that cheesy naturally?” Lio noticed Aang’s wince at the mention of the airbenders, “I’m sorry, Aangie, baby. I’m a bad, rude man. I just don’t like you looking at me like I’m some poor dying animal you found on the side of the road.” 

Lio’ s shoulder’s rose and fell, as they heaved a sigh. They weren’t some broken thing, it was easy to see the lean strength in those lines. Those shoulder blades were strong and massive, moving beneath the scarred skin. 

At that moment all Aang could think of was how adult Lio looked, even though they were only two years older. It wasn’t just the enormous height, it was the comfort they displayed wearing their own body, it was enough to make Aang feel like a fucking child in comparison. 

Graceful Lio suddenly gracelessly lost their balance and fell a step back from the wall. Lio quickly turned around, still hiding something behind their back, “I’m sorry Aangie, can we continue this conversation later? I thought we could bond in our nakedness, but human relationships aren’t so simple.”

Aang caught sight of it then, a smaller, curvier figure trying to slip away into the steam just then. Oh. Li mentioned Lio wanted to get married. Aang walked in on both of them in the bath. Mix gender bathing was normal in the fire nation, he told himself. Completely normal.

He caught sight of a feminine figure through the steam turning to leave. He didn’t initially recognize her - because under normal circumstances, that girl would never do something as ungraceful as stumbling and falling face first into the pool, sending a spray of water into the air. 

“Lazuli, watch your step.” One hand around Azula’s arm, Lio supported her from behind. The difference in their heights was such that their breath puffed against Azula’s ear as they lowered their head to speak, “If you’re not careful you might just fall for me.” 

“Cough, cough.” Azula inadvertently swallowed a mouthful of water in her panic. Swallowing bathwater she became indignant and disgusted discarding all appearance of calm composure, scrambling and flailing as she tried to find her footing.

Aang saw Azula, it was the closest he’d ever seen her, she looked quite different than when she had appeared on the opposite side of a battlefield. Aang saw Azula, but his brain refused to process the image. He wanted to ask what she was doing here, but it got stuck in his throat. He suddenly felt pathetic and spineless. Silence only continued to fan the flames of the situation. 

Aula naked and exposed. When people shed their clothes and exposed themselves they usually exposed their inner ugliness, but Azula was different.

He couldn’t look away. Even though his brain registered she was naked. When people shed their clothes and exposed themselves they usually exposed their inner ugliness, but Azula was different. The horrfiyng part, of this situation wasn’t that he’d humiliated Azula completely by accident. No, the true horror had been something that should not have even been possible. Something that would make a clown like Lio laugh.  The unsettling horror of it all was that Aang had found her beautiful.

Aang was suddenly forced to bear witness to a naked truth. Azula was a girl. Not only was she a girl, she was a beautiful girl. 

Until now, he’d believed Azula hard and made of steel like a machine of war with a fire burning inside her. Now he saw her soft flesh. The girl that had always been hiding underneath the fire nation army. 

A beautiful girl. It wasn’t something as perverted as being attracted to her naked body, it was just seeing the naked truth finally in front of his eyes, that Azula was a girl not yet fully mature barely older than him. Though it was sacreligious to compare her to Katara, it was like the first time he woke up to Katara’s face. It was different from Katara though, because she was lacking many of the qualities one would typically ascribe to ‘beauty’. 

When she was fourteen years old she was certainly eye catching in a dangerous way. Now she’d lost a lot of her ‘beauty’ from when she was fourteen. He wouldn’t call her skin pale in a way that evoked purity, or compare it to porcelain, she looked almost physically ill. She wasn’t thin, or lithe, but emaciated. There were dark rings that eclipsed her sun-colored eyes. She was like a plucked flower withering away within a bell jar, and yet, there was something about her. Something so… 

“Why are you staring, avatar? Have you not gone any farther than hand holding with your little water tribe girlfriend?” Something so…“...Beautiful.” 

He should not have said it. He should not have acknowledged that feeling. These were feelings he wasn’t supposed to have because Azula was… well, Azula. 

“What is it…? Speak clearly, don’t mumble, and look into the eyes of the person you’re talking to.” “Err… beautiful…” “Is your mouth broken? Oh no, I believe I broke the avatar. Again.” He confessed again. “I’m staring because you’re beautiful.” “You’re right, I am beautiful. I guess your eyes aren’t broken.” She was… She was definitely still Azula. Whatever had happened in the three months since he last saw her hadn’t changed her fundamental “Azula-Ness.” Then his sight of Azula was cut off as Lio pulled Azula close to them, stepping in front of her to obscure most of Aang’s view. 

Aang had several questions, but the first one that jumped to mind when he saw the two of them acting so close was, “Why are you bathing with Lio?”

“Mixed bathing is normal, and besides I’d never stare at a girl to make her uncomfortable. I’m a beautiful girl myself, and you don’t know how many creeps have stared at me, ” Lio said. 

That’s right, mixed bathing was normal in fire nation culture Aang reminded himself for the thousandth time. 

Bathing under the stars. Girls and boys together. No tension there whatsoever. Nope, not at all. 

Azula looked at Aang, “There’s nothing untoward about bathing with my betrothed.” “...Your betrothed.” “Yes.” “You’re getting married?” “Yes.” “To who?” “To Lio.” “You’re getting married to Lio.” “Can you not hear me? I thought those big ears of yours would at least be good for listening.” 

“Are my ears too big? Why didn’t anyone tell me? Were they just trying to be nice?” He was suddenly, very self conscious about the size of his ears but that was besides the point. “Why are you getting married to Lio?” “I fail to see how it’s any business of yours.” That’s right it wasn’t any business of his. 

So, why did he care? 

[solsticelosthermind]

Someone once made a joke that everything happens in the ada infirmary and I’m staring into space about it now because. You’ll never guess. Where I have sskk now.

Again.

[zimithrus]

Galolio Week - Day 3 - Vacation ❄

Ice-skating!! Though they had to go find a new lake after they melted the old one! 😆

📚 Read the fic that accompanies this piece on AO3!📚

[myownwholewildworld]

The table held your queenly body. Javi sat back peacefully, legs crossed, mesmerised by the regal sight of you. He brought his hands closer, slowly sliding his fingers over the smooth skin of your inner thigh. Then scooted over towards you, lips brushing your ear, to whisper... "Dame de esa boca lo que nadie me dio..."

[daniablazin]

So I did something—

[writingintohell]

The warmth of the house and the glow of the tree - Day 1 of the Christmas Collection

Word count : 1055

Theme: Decorating the Christmas Tree

Markl woke with a start to the smell of something sweet cooking downstairs in the kitchen. Slipping on his shoes, he jumped down the stairs. He could hear Calcifer and Howl chattering away to their heart’s content in the kitchen, the smell sizzling of bacon mingling with the sweet scent of what he could now make out to be pastries. Walking further downstairs, Markl spotted small round pastries  bulging with small apple cubes, candied lemon peels, and raisins cooling on the countertop. Sophie was busy doing what looked like fighting multiple very sparkly snakes and attempting to wrangle them onto an evergreen tree. Turning around and spotting Markl, Sophie smiled.

“Glad to see that you’re up! What do you want for breakfast? Howl’s got some bacon and eggs on the pan if you’re up for that.”

Blinking owlishly, Markl nodded, his mentor cracking two fresh eggs over the pan, feeding the shells over Calcifer, before flipping the eggs in a perfect circle onto the plate, so that they were sunny side up. Sitting down at the table with a glass of milk and a fork in hand, Markl began to wolf down the delicious food in front of him, the contented sound of him munching on bacon and the vaguely possessed noises of Calcifer chewing on eggshells. Swallowing, he asked Howl what the large tree was.

“Is it for a spell? Or some kind of commission for the king?”

Howl laughed and ruffled Markl’s hair.

“Market Chipping and the area around it often follows the custom of plucking an evergreen or pine tree out of the ground, and then decorating it with candles and small shiny objects called baubles.”

Sophie poked her head around from the tree.

“I’ve gotten Howl to use his magic to instead use some of his magical lights that he got from his sister, because I think he would find a way to burn down the castle.”

Howl gasped, affronted.

“That was one time! And Calcifer said he was sorry!”

Around the eggshells, there was what could have been heard as a “Yeah!” from Calcifer, causing Sophie and Howl to laugh. 

Licking off his lips, Markl brought his plate and cup up to the sink, dragging over a stool and turning on the tap to do the washing up, which was normally Sophie’s job (his was the drying up), but she looked quite preoccupied with the tree, so he decided to be helpful, and hopefully prevent another slime incident.

Howl walked over with a large box in his hands and placed it on the counter next to where Markl was washing up.

“When you’re done, would you like to help Sophie decorate the tree?”

Markl’s eyes widened and nodded vigorously. Howl laughed, and picked up the dishcloth to help dry off the dishes.

Markl hopped down from the stool and ran over to where Sophie was, box wrapped tightly in his hands. He quickly helped Sophie arrange the sparkly snakes into the tree, and the lights wrapped around from the bottom up. The softly glowing rainbow lights were snuggly pushed into place, before Sophie picked up the bag of ornaments, which were wrapped up in paper. Together, Sophie and Markl got to work unwrapping the ornaments from their protective paper casing, laying them out on the table. 

Markl softly gasped at the sight of all the ornaments. There were silver shining stars, golden deer sparkling with glitter that reflected off the lights, knitted balls that were white and green and red, and thin strips of red, white, and gold that had been finely pressed down. However, most importantly of all, there was a small fairy, no bigger than Markl’s palm, dressed in a blue gown the colour of ice, with a tiny wand with a snowflake on top. Her wings were a shimmery hue, reflecting the light of the Calcifer as he bobbed happily away in the fireplace. She wore little blue shoes on her feet, almost like what Markl had seen the ladies where in Market Chipping when he and Sophie had stopped by one autumn day to visit her sisters.

Sophie smiled gently at him. “The fairy is a gift from Martha and Lettie from when we went to visit them earlier this year. She normally goes at the very top of the tree, after all the other ornaments are put on,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Well then, shall we get to it?”

Markl thought that this couldn’t get any better than it already was. The next half hour was spent placing decorations on the tree, moving them, moving them back, and so on and so forth. Howl was useful with his criminally long legs for putting the ornaments up on the higher branches of the tree, and through much deliberation, 7 cups of tea and one shot glass of whiskey, the tree was done.

Howl nudged the boy.

“Do you want to put the fairy up on the tree, Markl?”

Markl blinked at him, surprised he wasn’t asking Sophie, but even more surprised that Sophie was smiling at him as well and nodding.

“I don’t think I’m tall enough, Master Howl.”

Howl grinned and ruffled the boy’s curly hair.

“That’s not a problem Markl. Here, you take hold of her and I’ll pick you up, alright?”

Markl nodded excitedly, prompting a laugh from Sophie and Calcifer.

He gently took hold of the small thread running through the fairy’s back, and nodded at Howl to let him know that he was ready. With a one, two, three! he was hoisted up into the air before being manoeuvred closer to the tree so he could wrap the thread around the highest branch available.

Howl dropped him down with a slightly sharp exhale, his blue hair in his face. He smiled at Markl, and then at Sophie.

Sophie’s eyes lit up before running and closing all the curtains to block any and all light from coming through, so at the end of it all there was just the softly glowing tree and Calcifer to illuminate the room. Howl wrapped an arm around Sophie’s waist, pulling her in, and placed a hand on Markl’s shoulder. 

Clearing his throat, Markl asked, “Sophie, is there any other things we do to get ready for Christmas?”

Sophie grinned.

“Markl, we’ve barely even begun!”

a/n Hope you enjoyed reading this! I will be posting more for writemas so be sure to check out my other posts once they're up!

[aliorsboxostuff]

Hey, you said requests were open for Robert Reynolds from Thunderbolts.

Could you write an x male reader, with reader being a friend of Bucky (that has powers maybe) and Bucky calls him for the Sentry mission and reader unexpectedly bonds with Bob ? Maybe reader has anger issues and so he understands self-control issues ?

Please and thank you 🙏

HELLLOOOOO thank you for the request!!!! Please mind me and my very rough writing, this is my first fic after closing requests in a WHILE regardless, I hope you enjoy this fanfic tho!!! I tried to work with the idea you gave me so i hope it suffices!  Also please note I've seen the movie ONCE and I've forgotten a lot of the actual lines they said! My apologies if I've made those mistakes! 

Control amidst Chaos

Tags: Robert ‘Bob’ Reynolds x Mutant!Male!Reader, No use of YN, The Thunderbolts* spoilers, Yelena Belova, John Walker, James Bucky Barnes, Red Guardian, Ava Starr, Childhood trauma, void area, Unstable Backgrounds, Blooming relationship, Hurt Comfort, Fluff, BOB SUPPORT GROUP!

The last thing you've heard from Bucky was that he's running for Congress. What you didn't expect was that being a congress member also includes fighting against an unstable man with unstable powers in the job description. 

—

The last thing you've heard from Bucky was that he's running for Congress. What you didn't expect was that being a congress member also includes fighting against an unstable man with unstable powers in the job description. 

“Where? The old Avengers tower?” Yoi shouted across the room, phone on speaker. The knives slide easily into their pockets as you pull on your gloves.

“Yeah, I'm bringing my own group with me-” 

“Group? Since when did you get so friendly, huh Barnes?” The phone speaker crackles, which indicates a scoff from Bucky, no doubt. 

“Look, just get there quick, alright? and bring your gear, you'll need it.” A beep ends the call just as you adjusted the final strap on your armour. While you haven't fought a real danger in a while now, it doesn't mean you haven't forgotten just how powerful you can be. 

Bucky doesn't usually contact you, especially about a mission. You've been keeping tabs on him, and he mostly checks in just to hear how you are, asking about your health. Now that Bucky has asked for your help, in such an urgent matter as well, a bile of anxiety rises inside you.

You sped off in your truck down the highway, hoping to make it to the tower in time before anything goes awry.

—

A bitter chill wraps down your spine. You force your eyes to snap open, breathing in lungfuls as you take in your surroundings. There, you stand, inside a room, a familiar place, though it doesn't bring back fond memories. The bright blue wallpaper and children's toys strewn about, the image depicts of childlike wonder and happiness, though it contrasts with what’s happening just across the room. 

Your heart drops as you glance down, a younger, much younger you, sitting in the middle of the room, a toy train in hand. It’s blocky, mostly made out of wood, if you could recall. He’s oblivious to the noise outside of his safety bubble. Your brow furrows, trying to process the situation, before the voice outside the room becomes clearer. The shouting, heightened tone, and quick replies. It was your parents fighting. 

The realization hits you like a freight train. It was the day your mutation manifested. It was a sunny afternoon at the park, if you recall. You were in the sandbox, just meters away from your father, when another child came over to where you sat. The kid took the shovel you were using to build a castle, before knocking the structure down, sending blocks of sand to break apart. There was a snap inside you, something broke loose and washed over your young mind. It wasn't like you could've controlled it, the surge of power crashes down amidst a wave and before you could process anything, the same kid was sent flying, particles of sand cover his torso and legs, as if he was pulled.

The next memory was just you sitting in your room, toy train in hand, blissfully unaware of the argument happening outside. So it seems. 

The truth is, you were aware of the fight. Aware of the damage you did to that kid. Even when you were such a young child, you knew that what you did was wrong, was bad enough to cause your parents to fight. But you also knew, you somehow had to keep a mask up, to make them feel like you were still their innocent angel.

You blink repeatedly, looking around the now suffocating room, looking for a door, a latch, anything as a way out. You turn to see a full-length mirror across the room, tilting your head. Within it, sits a silver-haired woman, Yelena, comforting what must be Bob, who caused this whole nightmare. You take steps to approach the mirror, the tips of your fingers touch the cold glass, before it ripples like water in a pond. 

Reassessing the image within the mirror, you take a staggering breath, once, twice, before running shoulder-first into the glass. It shatters, the glass breaking shrieks into your ears, before you slowly open your eyes to two concerned voices calling your name.

“Hey wha- are you okay?” Yelena’s voice brings you to a clearer vision. You open your eyes to her and Bob’s concern above you.

“Ugh…” You bring yourself to sit up, rubbing your shoulder. “Never been better,” You sigh, rolling your arm a bit to ease the pain. You turn your head to face Bob, his brows furrowed as he checks your body. His gaze slowly meets yours, eyes wide in a slight surprise, before he clears his throat.

“Did you hurt yourself?” 

“Been through worse. Bob, right? Sentry?” Your voice softens when Bob turns his head away at the mention of Sentry. From his body language, there must be a rift between Bob and his Sentry identity. Judging from the damage he caused throughout New York, you can connect the two dots to make a cohesive line. 

“Right sorry- I should be asking if you’re okay,” 

“Out there, that… Version of you, that's not you, is it?” He takes a staggering inhale at your question, before his grip on his thigh tightens. He blinks before slowly nodding, his head turns to a foggy window on the other side of the loft, or so it seems.

“It um… it always comes out, whenever Sentry is present.” Bob inhales as he shakes his head. “It’s- it’s not something I can control. Before I went to Val and her program, before this, i’d-” 

“I’d have good days, and bad day. Like- bad bad days. Where I wouldn't remember anything. Next thing know I'm just… I don't know. I don't- I can't control him,” He blinks, his blue eyes shaking as he takes a sharp inhale. You shift closer to him, a cautious hand on his arm, rubbing slightly. 

“It's okay, hey, I get it,” Your eyes meet his, a meek smile to try and comfort him. “I do. It.. sucks, when you cant control these things. When you lose control,” 

“I’m… My mutation- powers, they come from my emotions, they come from my depression, my happiness. But dangerously, it comes from my rage, too. It took me years to control mine, to keep myself in line, Bob, I get it,” You take a breath, rubbing at his arm softly, he blinks, eyes wide. 

“And you can control yours, you know you can. We can all control the demons inside of us, or compromise, at least,”

“You think I… You really think so?” He blinked, a wavering smile making its way to his lips. 

“We can do this together, Bob. You and us,” Yelena nods, her hands engulfing his. The man looks between the two of you, a slow build of trust before he nods, reassured with a steady confidence within him. You smile, before the room quivers from a strong tremor, the furniture flying in every direction.

You and Yelena instinctively try to cover Bob’s frame, though it's apparent he can hold his own when a chair flies his way and he only ducks to cover his head. The pieces break apart, the chair bursts into splinters. 

“You okay?!” You grip Bob’s upper arm, steadying the man. He nods, Yelena immediately holding his other hand. 

“You got this Bob! I know you can do it!”

—

The smoke clears, darkness receding quickly as the midday sun takes over. Debris and flipped cars litter the street as you cough, slowly pulling yourself up. You quickly look for the team, for Yelena or Bucky or B- Bob!

You hurried to haul the man by his arm, brushing off the dust from his clothes. He shakes his head, his curls swinging from the rough movement.

“Hey! We did it, Bob, we’re okay!” 

“We what? What did we do?” He blinks, slowly looking around at the mess. “Whoah.. What a day huh,” 

You squint slightly at Bob's lopsided smile before scoffing and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pulling you to the side. “Yeah bud, what a day,”

The others slowly gather themselves, pulling each other up. Bucky stands beside Yelena as she assesses the street. You spot Ghost, Walker and Alexei gathering their weapons from the debris, brushing clouds of dust off of them. You all gather together, relief washes over each other as the head count comes out complete. You want to let out a laugh before you spot the familiar, annoying blonde-brunette woman just in the distance, seemingly shouting into her phone. The group turns to the source of the voice, Yelena stalks her, leading the group.

She frantically retreats behind a car, then under a bus, before the group sets off into a run, you sticking close to Bob. Bucky runs in front of you and when he pulls past the bus, you are caught off guard with flashing lights and the loud commotion of reporters and their questions. 

Val stands behind a podium with mics pointed at her, you and the group now stand in a line, bewildered at the situation. She suddenly announces that you all are a group, the New Avengers, and she cheers. The crowd erupts, claps and shouts questions, a barrage of camera flashes in front of them. Yelena takes a step towards the woman and whispers something you can't pick out, though judging from her look, it's most likely a threat.

You glance towards Bob, standing idly beside you, a cloud of anxiety over him as he looks at the crowd. You sigh, wrapping a hand around his wrist. He widens his eyes, glancing at the contact, before meeting your eyes. 

“Whatever she has in store, we’ll do it together, okay?” You grin, tilting your head.

Bob sighs, the cloud of worry melting from his eyes. He sighs, then nods softly. 

To be invited into The New Avengers was the last thing you expected as a graduate of Xavier's Institute, as a nobody mutant, no less. But if it means gaining a new family, and a new friend, then it might just be worth it.

You have to thank Bucky after all of this mess is sorted.  

Requests for Bob are open! Reblogs appreciated <3

[soaphawk]

bright blue, honey brown

w/c: 5.5k warnings: canon-typical violence, blood and injuries, hospitals written for ghoap soulmay 2024 <3 | posted to ao3

It’d been said that when you and your soulmate first touch, the colour of their eyes will bloom across your skin. Simon had seen it before, he knew it was real, but that didn’t change the fact that experiencing it for himself was infinitely more terrifying than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Soap, keep up!” Ghost barked, long legs propelling him forward. Occasional grunts would meet their stumbling footfalls as they fled through the treeline, relying on compasses to find their way back to relative safety. Thankfully, the sounds of barking and machine gun fire behind them had ceased, leaving the woods silent save for their laboured breaths and the whispers of the windy evening air. 

”Right behind ye, Lt,” Soap wheezed, his stride unsteady and slowing behind him.

“Y’allright?” Quickly surveying the area for hidden threats, Ghost slowed his sprint, giving his sergeant a moment to catch up. 

“Solid,” Soap replied, voice still strained in a way that had Ghost narrowing his eyes as he limped closer. One hand clutched his side, chest heaving with shaky breaths. Breaths that rattled in his chest, that set the hairs on the back of Ghost’s neck on edge with how… exhausted Soap sounded. “How much… further?”

”Half a klick. Come on, we’re both proper rank.” Ghost frowned under his mask as he watched Soap stumble forward for a few steps before tripping. He reached out, grabbing at his sergeant’s arm to steady him before he could fall. “Almost ‘ere, Johnny. Come on, put your arm around me.”

”Didnae take ye fer th’ touchy-feely type, sir.” Soap offered a cheeky smile as Ghost pulled his uninjured arm over his broad shoulders. 

Ghost suppressed an eye-roll while he slid an arm around the other man’s waist. “Yeah, well, you’re not gonna quit your wingin’ unless I fuckin’ carry you, MacTavish.” Not that I’d mind it one bit, holding you close like that. I’d make sure nothing else could ever hurt you. 

Together—with Ghost supporting most of Soap’s weight—they trudged onwards. No words passed between them, save for his sergeant’s pained grunts every so often. Out of the corner of his eye, Ghost watched him grit his teeth, face unusually pale. Soap’s silence worried him; the man barely stopped talking, even in the middle of an op. Nope, don’t like this, he thought, clenching his jaw. Usually can’t get him to shut the fuck up. Both lost in their own thoughts, Ghost’s kept tearing back and forth between the mission at hand and wanting those distressed noises to stop, because something hurt his Johnny.

”Almost there,” Ghost murmured, as much for his benefit as for Soap’s. The rattling breaths had weakened slightly, only reminding Ghost that he couldn’t slow, couldn’t falter, Johnny needed him. Thankfully, the safe house drew closer, hurrying their steps towards it as much as either man dared. Ghost left Soap stationed just outside of the front door, gun in hand while he worked to crack it open before sweeping the rooms one by one. 

Once he felt satisfied that the area was safe, Ghost finally helped Soap inside, settling him on a rarely used, dusty sofa, wishing for something more comfortable as Soap winced. He himself stayed standing a few paces away as a gloved hand reached for his comms.

“Watcher, this is Bravo 0-7, how copy?” 

“Good to hear your voice, Ghost.” Laswell’s voice crackled through his earpiece. “What’s your status?”

”Made it to the safe house. Just need an ETA on extraction. Soap’s hurt, gonna get him patched up in the meantime.”

”Roger that. Stand by for ETA. I’ll get a bird out to you ASAP.”

”Gh’st…?” 

His heart fell as he turned, seeing Soap—no, Johnny—even more inexplicably pale. Slowly, too slowly, he followed the line of Soap’s newly exposed chest, all the way down to the red blossoming beneath his shirt. Forcing his eyes back up, Ghost’s gaze locked on his sergeant, noting with almost clinical detachment how fearful his bright blue orbs looked in this moment. No, Johnny… you’re not supposed to be afraid. You’re not supposed to be hurt! 

Ghost wracked his brain, every detail of the mission flashing through in overdrive until—

“Think ‘m bleedin’…”

That snapped Ghost back into action. Panic flooded his veins as the stain grew larger, crashing to his knees in front of Johnny in an instant. No longer feeling like everything existed in slow-motion, his entire thought process honed in on his friend, his teammate, his…

No, no. Focus on the task at hand. 

“No fuckin’ shit,” Ghost heard himself say before he fumbled single handedly with his comms. ”Watcher, we’re gonna need that evac sooner rather than later,” he rasped into his mic, pulling Johnny’s shirt up and exposing the bloody hole torn in his side.

The man in question went quiet, save for a pained whimper. “Soap, I need you to keep talking!”

Soap grunted softly as Ghost’s fingers probed the wound, already reaching for his emergency kit as crimson blood flowed like an angry tide across his fingers. Frustrated, he tore his skeleton gloves off, exposing his pale digits to the thick, warm fluid. 

“‘S nothin, sir. Dinnae need t’ fuss…” Soap groaned, eyes focusing and unfocusing. 

A low, pained whine fell from his lips as Ghost pressed hard against the gunshot wound, using his free hand to pack as much gauze as he could into the mess—anything to stop the bleeding—terror thrumming through his mind at the fact that, with the amount of blood pooling under his fingers, he may very well lose the man he’d inexplicably fallen in lov—

”Bloody hell, Soap!” 

Even with the wound plugged, the bleeding wouldn’t stop. Everywhere he looked, Ghost saw red—blood red—and watched as discoloured marks bloomed over where their bare skin touched. Fear truly gripped him as Johnny gasped again, a pained noise but also—

—shocked as he grabbed onto Ghost’s bare wrist, holding on so hard he nearly crushed the bones. 

“Huh, that’s never… happen’d b’fore…” Ghost refocused his gaze, blinking down at where they linked in shock. Down to where the Scot’s hand gripped, as blue—bright blue, the exact colour of Soap’s eyes—spread across Ghost’s skin like ink. A shaky breath in and Ghost pressed his fingers against one of the few unmarred spots on Soap’s chest, watching with horrified fascination as honey brown bloomed across the pallor. 

The exact same way that, as a kid, as a teenager, as an adult, Ghost had been told people found their soulmates. The exact colour of their eyes blooming across the skin wherever they happen to meet.

My soulmate…?

Johnny… Johnny’s my… my soulmate?

But… this can’t be the first time we’ve ever touched, right? It can’t be, this has gotta be a dream, there’s no way Johnny’s bleeding out in my arms and I’m just now realizing he’s my bloody fucking soulmate—!

“Looks like yer eyes, Si…” Soap slurred out, lidded gaze trained on where Ghost still pressed against his ravaged skin. “S’nice. Like it… on…”

”Johnny—“ Whatever Ghost wanted to say next died in his throat as Johnny’s eyes rolled back, his body sagging against the cushions. “Soap? Johnny! Shit!” Scrambling for his comms once again, his hands shook as they depressed the button. “Watcher, we need medevac now! Soap’s down!”

— — — — — — —

While he swirled patterns over Johnny’s arm with his bare fingers, Simon did his best to not think about the marks left behind on his mother’s face.

Every time honey brown followed his carreses, images of father’s handprints leaving green splotches in their wake flashed through his mind. An almost perfect contrast to his mother’s stark white skin, covered in a collage of purple and yellow bruises. 

It had always been a distinct fascination. Something that most people craved—some even going their entire lives searching for it—yet one of the most terrifying things Simon could imagine. 

Riley’s didn’t do love, they didn’t deserve soulmates. Loving another in that way only brought pain and heartache. Especially in this line of work, especially because his bloody fucking soulmate just so happened to be Johnny Fucking MacTavish, the biggest and most wonderful pain in his arse he’d ever had.

Simon Riley-MacTavish. Nice ring to it.

Fuck, Johnny deserved better than him. If it weren’t for Simon, Johnny wouldn’t be lying broken in this bed, relying on a machine to breathe for him. If he had just been faster, kept his finger on the trigger and kept firing even as they ran for their fucking lives—

Simon’s parents had been soulmates. Their relationship ended in tears and bloodshed, bruises in the shape of hands that were supposed to love and nurture and not break and destroy. In blood on the floor and broken bones, shattered as easily as glass. As easily as a heart.

A lone tear beaded in the corners of Simon’s eyes. He had those same hands.

How many things—beautiful things—had he destroyed with these hands?

He couldn’t stand to look at them, knowing how much pain and fear and hurt and anguish they caused. Slowly, carefully, he pulled the gloves back on, waiting for his body to stop shaking. He didn’t want to look at the bare skin anymore, the scars and the bruises and the crooked finger that broke and never healed correctly under his father’s boot.

Tommy and Beth were soulmates, too. And while Tommy never laid a hand against her or their son in anger, he knew those demons haunted his brother like they stalked Simon himself. One of the few things they could bond over as adults, something they maybe could have recovered from together until…

Every good thing in Simon’s life disappeared. How many more things could he lose before he lost the rest of himself? Before Simon Riley finally gave himself over for the Earth to swallow whole, until there was no point where Ghost ended and Simon began anew?

Simon rested his head on Johnny’s chest with a soft sigh. Soulmates were for good people, like the man laying stone still in this bed. Not for people who destroyed every good thing in their lives.

It wouldn’t stop him from loving the man before him, though. It hadn’t, in any case. Simon had loved Johnny from the moment the annoying, pain-in-the-arse Scot managed to worm his way into Simon’s life. 

Fucking hell.

Simon watched the slow rise and fall of Johnny’s breathing for a few long minutes. This would be as close as he ever got to the man he’d inexplicably fallen for ever again. He’d already failed to keep Johnny at arm’s length, instead working to pull the man closer, to protect him under his mask. A silent shadow, daring anyone to come close to the man he so desperately wanted to be his. The man he loved more than anything he’d ever loved before.

Simon had promised himself he’d just… love from afar, that’s all. It’d be enough.

He could stay out of Johnny’s life, but still keep him safe.

And yet here Johnny lay, straddling the barrier between life and death, all because of him. Simon had been foolish to believe he could be the knight in shining armor, whether as Ghost or not. But he couldn’t deny being helplessly caught in Johnny’s orbit, like a moth to a flame every damn time.

He hadn’t been fast enough. Maybe if he could have stopped the bleeding earlier or at least realized something was wrong—

“I’m so sorry, Johnny.” Simon whispered.

The silence didn’t respond.

Simon didn’t deserve a response, anyway.

I love you, he longed to say.

He couldn’t.

It wasn’t safe to be loved by a man like Ghost.

— — — — — — —

Honey brown flashed across Soap’s mind and his skin in his dreams. Every time he felt like he tumbled further into the abyss, warm eyes and a gentle touch pulled him back. A deep, rough voice with words he couldn’t make out played over and over, but the emotions were clear: fear, urgency, care, love…

“…hear me? Soap?”

Head swimming, Soap only groaned and tried to bat the presence away. His hand seared when he lifted it, eyes blinded by the bright white light as he hissed in pain and screwed them shut tight.

”Sorry, son,” the voice gained some clarity at the same time the light shining through his eyelids dimmed, making way for a familiar beard and kind blue eyes when he dared crack his open again. Disappointment speared his gut for a second. For a moment, he had been convinced that Simon was sitting silent vigil beside him. ”Still with me, lad?”

”Yessir,” Soap slurred, tongue heavy and dry in his mouth. Without needing to ask, Price tipped a straw in his direction, allowing him to take long, greedy sips of ice cold water. He gasped as soon as it pulled away. “Thanks.”

”Gave us quite a scare,” Price fake-scolded, voice and expression betraying the fear he clearly tried to push away with a joke. “I told you boys to not break yourselves.”

”Aww, wasnae intentional!” Soap pouted at his captain, pulling a quokka-like smile from the older man. 

“Sure it wasn’t. Danger magnet,” an affectionate hair ruffle followed the captain’s words before his voice dropped to a more serious tone. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I…” Soap trailed off, scouring his thoughts. All he could find were disjointed memories and fragments of the op after everything had gone to shit… “Not much. I—fuck, where’s Si? Is he okay?!”

The heart monitor next to the men beeped louder as Soap fought to sit upright, only stilling when Price physically held him down, pushing his shoulders as deep into the bed as he dared. “He’s fine! He’s fine, John. Battered, but he’s fine. I promise.”

Soap breathed a sigh of relief at that. Price wouldn’t lie to him, not at the same time he called him by his actual name. Ghost’s—no, Simon’s?—face flashed through his mind, so ridiculously expressive even behind the mask, but only to those who really took the time to understand.

And Soap did, because he loved the daft bastard. Simon, without a second thought, saved his life yet again… someday maybe he’d get to repay the favour. At the very least, though, he could tell his lieutenant—the man he loved more than anything—thank you with a round of drinks once he was free. “Where’s he at?”

“Sent him to his room to rest. Same thing you need to be doing, ay?” Price replied gruffly. Soap laughed as he leaned over to ruffle his hair again, leaning into the contact with a barely restrained sigh of pleasure. As much as he wanted to see Simon, to beg Price to drag the man to the medical wing… Soap couldn’t deny how tired he felt, eyelids drooping steadily as his captain’s hand radiated warmth into his skin. 

“Just sleep, son. I’ll tell Simon you’re up. Kyle, too. We’ll be back soon enough.”

Soap nodded, mumbling something soft and unintelligible under his breath. He drifted to sleep with a smile, the memory of his lieutenant’s beautiful brown eyes front and centre in his dreams. Simon would be here when he woke up, and he’d reach out and hug the big bastard and pull him close, finally brush their lips against one anothers…

— — — — — — —

Soap—once he finally escaped the clutches of the medical wing—seethed his entire way back to the 141’s barracks. 

Soldiers all but leapt out of the way as he barrelled down the hallways, flinging the doors open and stalking outside. Sunlight kissed his skin, rare warmth radiating across his body after weeks of sterile white lights, but he couldn’t give a single shit. 

After weeks of seeing nothing but scrubs, blue masks, physical therapy… his best friend, his lieutenant, the man he bloody fucking loved, hadn’t come to see him once. 

More than just angry, Soap’s heart ached like someone had taken a vise to it and squeezed. Price and Gaz had stopped by more times than he could count, preventing him from going entirely insane in his room, but never once did he see the man in the mask. 

Every time he asked after Simon, their smiles faded, heads shook as they told him we tried and he’s not talking to anyone and he hasn’t been back to his room in days. 

Furious, Soap’s feet brought him all the way to the lieutenant’s office… but he couldn’t bring himself to knock, to shoulder his way in, to demand the man’s time. His radio silence made it obvious; Ghost didn’t want to see Soap.

Except… Soap saw Ghost. Saw flashes of Simon on base every single day. In the mess, in the showers, training recruits, sparring… 

And every day that passed had the pain in his chest taking root, expanding through his veins, twisting his smile into something ugly. Something venomous to hide the hurt festering in his heart. Something far, far from the roses he’d assumed would bloom once he finally got off his dumb arse, stopped waiting around for Simon to be less oblivious, and told the man he loved him. 

Oh, the roses grew all right. Except no flowers could be seen, instead the thorns grew bigger and bigger until they choked his life from the inside out.

Johnny missed Simon. 

He wanted Simon.

Needed him, really. Just needed to know it was all okay.

Except Soap also wanted to clock the man. 

Seriously, not a single visit? Not a single word from the man every time Soap begged Price and Gaz for information? What, did Ghost think him weak and pathetic, was that it? Had Soap done something wrong, something so heinous that ‘the Ghost’ couldn’t stand to be seen with him?

Those thoughts plagued Soap’s restless nights. He already struggled with turning his brain off enough to sleep, especially without the exhaustion of running ops and coming back bone tired. Instead, he tossed and turned, ruminating after the sting of his nightmares faded enough that he could focus on anything aside from the sting of rejection. 

Why didn’t Simon want him anymore? Was he that angry about the op? Disappointed in Soap for fucking it up? Did he discover how Soap truly felt about him and became too disgusted to even be seen near the other man? 

At first, Soap thought he’d just imagined the whole thing. That the bright blue across Simon’s wrist had just been a trick of a dying man’s thoughts. Some fucked up mainfestation of his dreams and fantasies to soothe him to the other side. Or maybe that the honey brown across Soap’s belly had just been dried blood captured at a different angle. 

The thought plagued him, so much so that sleep became nothing more than a fleeting thought, a passing entity in the night just out of reach. Just like Simon.

After Soap’s fourth night in a row storming through the 141 barracks towards their small gym, bloodying his barely healed knuckles over and over on the punching bag, Price caught up to him. He didn’t resist as the captain peeled him off the floor, leading him back to the office with the promise of some (decaf) coffee and conversation.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Price finally asked, voice thick with sleep.

“I…” Soap audibly gulped. How could he even say what he needed to? That he was a lovesick puppy whose owner kicked him to the curb? “Ma heid’s mince. Did I do summat wrong? ‘S that why Si won’t look at me?”

Price sighed softly, offering a kind smile. “You did nothing wrong. Simon’s… struggling.” Soap rolled his eyes hard in response.

“Am too! Fuck, am the one who’s bin in t’ hospital!” He managed to grind out. “I dinnae understand… jus’ wanna know how I can fix… whatever ah did. Wanna ken why he… won’t talk t’ me anymore. Hurts.”

“I know. But beating yourself bloody isn’t going to fix it,” Price replied, taking a drag from his cigar. “I’ll talk to him when I see him again, ay? See if I can figure it out?”

“Sir…”

“Let me do this for you, son.”

“I… I think he might be my… my soulmate, sir.”

Price didn’t seem surprised, only humming softly in response. “What makes you say that?”

“I cannae remember much, but in t’ safe house… he was jus’ patchin’ me up. Coulda sworn I saw blue on ‘is hands. Like mah eyes. More ah think on it, though… Dunno. Maybe it was jus’ a dream. A hope.”

Silence spanned the room for a few minutes. “Get some rest, Johnny,” was all Price replied, though the knowing look in his eye reassured Soap slightly. “We’ll sort this out.”

With nothing to do the next day, Soap sat in his room. At first, he’d tried sketching, but photos of Simon’s handsome face stared back up at him. He slammed the book closed in disgust.

Movies were out, no way he’d be sitting still long enough to focus.

Training was still off the schedule for the most part, Price adamant that he rest and not strain himself any further, lest the stitches holding his guts together popped.

Soap glared at the wall as the same anger from the past weeks welled inside of him, fidgeting enough that it didn’t matter what he did, he just needed out. 

At first, he walked aimlessly, picking a direction and letting the cool air soothe his mind. It didn’t matter where he ended up, so long as he found a spot where he could sit and scream and fall apart with no one there to witness it. That way, when he went back, he could smile again and pretend like everything was fine.

That’s how Soap found himself on a scarce path leading towards the edge of the forest. A spot Simon himself had taken him to, the same place where he knew the man would sit to have some quiet. And seeing the lone figure on the ridge, clad in all black with his blonde hair exposed—

—Soap saw red.

”Oi, ye bloody bawbag!” Soap screamed, watching the figure jump with a sadistic kind of glee. He already had the upper hand if he’d startled the man. 

“What, ye think ye’re so bloody fuckin’ special, ‘s that it? Made it oot in one piece, no thanks to yer eejit of a sergeant?! Are ye so bloody ashamed of me that ye couldnae once come t’ visit? Bloody fuckin’ ‘ell, sir, am I that much of a burden to ye?!”

Drawing closer and closer, Soap kept hurling his anger and hurt at the man, reaching out to grab at the lieutenant as soon as he could, intent on bowling the man over and over into the dirt until the aggression worked its way out of his system. He ground his teeth as he watched Ghost’s shoulders shake, the sound coming from the bastard almost like a laugh.

“What, not gonnae turn an’ face me? ‘S that it? ‘S this fuckin’ funny t’ ye?! Seein’ me loose my bloody fuckin’ mind?!”

Close enough to the man, Soap all but slapped down onto Ghost’s shoulder, the feeling of skin on skin reverberating up his arm as he gripped as tight as he could, trying to force the larger man to turn and meet his gaze. 

Ghost—no, Simon?—curled in on himself, flinching away with a harder shudder.

He wasn’t laughing at Soap. He was sobbing.

Simon was… crying? Startled, Soap dropped his grip in an instant, reeling back. 

”Si?” Soap voiced hesitantly. “I—“

”Johnny…” 

All of his anger melted away at the fear and despair in the man’s voice. Days, no weeks, of built-up frustration drained from his bones, leaving weary exhaustion in its wake. Johnny crossed to crouch in front of Simon, angling so he could see his face. “Simon, what—can ah hug ye?”

Simon pulled away the moment Johnny reached forward, as soon as his fingers brushed the man’s chest. “You’re still healing, I don’t—“

“No, ye don’t get t’ do that!” Johnny barked, momentary softness forgotten as he grabbed for the taller man, ignoring his shaky, fearful breaths. “Why’d ye fuckin’ leave me?!”

God, how he hated that his voice broke on the last word.

Finally, Johnny grabbed Simon’s hand, his pale skin nearly glowing in the waning light without his usual skeleton gloves on. Part of him wanted to marvel at how rough Simon’s fingers were, but didn’t get the chance as time slowed, a belated gasp falling from his mouth as the skin beneath his turned bright blue—

—and where they touched, Johnny’s own turned honey brown.

The world went silent and still. Both men locked eyes, staring at each other, souls laid bare. So much swirled through Simon’s expression: fear, desperation, hope, terror, love…

”Si?” Johnny breathed. “It… it wasnae a dream… ye’re… ye’re my—“

”I’m sorry…” Simon whimpered out, cutting Johnny off with a voice so small and scared it cracked his heart. “I… you don’t… I’m so sorry!” 

Johnny didn’t move, didn’t react as Simon curled in on himself, pulling his limbs away to tuck them into safety. He sounded so scared, breaking Johnny’s heart. His soulmate… scared of him?

Had… had he actually done something wrong? Why was Simon afraid of him?

Shit, shit, shit shit shit—

”What are ye on about, love?” Johnny asked, wanting to reach his free hand across and gently grasp his soulmate’s chin. He couldn’t, though, not when tears cascaded down Simon’s cheeks, weak gasps punching from his chest as he screwed his eyes shut. Not when the taller man shuddered and shook and made such unhappy noises, like the thought of being touched was more harrowing than torture.

“You don’t… want me…” Simon managed to sob out, crying openly now. “I… you deserve… more…!”

”Oh, Si…” Johnny sighed. He teared up too, reaching out to rest a hand on his soulmate’s knee. He frowned as Simon flinched again. Definitely fear. My poor bonnie lad… I knew he’d had a tough go of it, but this… my poor bonnie lad. “Can I hug ye, please? Promise, jus’ wanna hug. Not gunna yell, am so sorry, Si…”

Simon didn’t respond for several moments, long enough that Johnny nearly asked again until he found himself with a lapful of anxious, upset, bloody fucking brilliant bonnie Manc. Didn’t matter that it hurt, that the strain on his body definitely popped a few stitches, Johnny took it in stride. 

He wrapped his arms around Simon’s body, pulling the man as close as he could. Wishing he could draw his soulmate into his body, to settle him within his ribcage right next to his heart where Simon belonged, protected and loved and wanted forever. One hand drifted up, carding through the short blonde hair as Johnny guided his head to rest in the crook of his neck. 

“I’m so sorry,” Simon sniffled, trembling in Johnny’s arms. 

“Simon Riley, I’ve spent my entire life searching for ye, an’ ye were here all along? Beautiful bastard,” Johnny breathed out in awe. “Why are ye sorry? Ye’re so bloody perfect for me already. My bonnie lad—”

“No…” Simon sobbed, “No, you… you deserve… better…! Not… broken… worthless…”

“Shh, love. None of tha’, now.” Johnny stroked his hair again, relishing in the feeling of Simon slowly relaxing against his chest. Cradling the man close, brushing his nose across the ridge of his hairline. “Ye’re bloody perfect, baby. How could I want anyone else, knowing I got lucky ‘nough fer someone as bonnie as ye?”

Simon’s struggles faded and fell away under Johnny’s soft words, now clutching him so tight he knew for sure both would be sporting bruises. It didn’t matter, though. He had his soulmate in his arms, the man he’d pined after for so long now… chest swelling with love and care as Simon fell apart.

Despite it all, Simon trusted him enough to fall apart like this.

Johnny wasn’t sure how long they spent there, Simon crying until no more tears came out. His sharp, shuddering breaths eased off, and he didn’t pull away or flinch as Johnny cupped his face, wiped his bright red cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, that same fear and guarded hope simmering in Simon’s eyes. “There ye go… such a bonnie lad. Please… Simon… please tell me ye want this too…”

”Yes,” Simon whimpered, squeezing tighter as if Johnny would disappear into thin air should he let go. “I’m so scared…” He didn’t need to say anything else for Johnny to understand. He’d known the man long enough to know some of his dour history, able to fill in the blanks even without the added context. 

In that moment, Johnny silently vowed to never, ever become another facet of Simon’s nightmares. He breathed that promise into the air, holding the man just a little bit tighter.

”I know, m’eudail. Ye dinnae need t’ tell me anythin’ noe, just… lemme hold ye? Waited so long for ye… hoped ye’d look in mah direction someday…”

”Don’t let go…” More tears brimmed in Simon’s vulnerable, bonnie eyes, threatening to fall until Johnny leaned in to press a soft kiss to his soulmate’s forehead. “Always wanted to… hold you like this. Couldn’t… didn’t deserve it. Don’t… don’t let go please Johnny, I can’t—”

”Never. We’ll figure it out together, aye?” 

Simon nodded at Johnny’s words, pulling away slightly to look at him again with barely disguised wonder. 

Johnny smiled in response, the edges of his lips tugging up into the most genuine, loving smile he’d ever worn. ”I’ve got ye. Not gunna let go, not noe tha’ I finally get t’ have ye.”

“Don’t… don’t wanna hurt you…” Simon rasped pitifully, glaring down at his hands when he pulled away to settle back on the ground. He remembered, back when they’d first become close, how Simon told him about his ‘father’s’ hands. Johnny had only been teasing when he said something along the lines of Ghost having talons instead of fingers to explain why he always wore the gloves… An idea sparked in Johnny’s head at that, making a soft noise to get the blonde’s attention.

“Can I see yer hands, Si?”

Simon cautiously extended them out, frowning as Johnny took them in his. “Ye always cover them, no matter what.” Turning them over, brushing the pads of their fingers together, tracing the veins and tendons and muscles… he pressed a soft kiss to every spot he could before holding them tight to his chest. 

And how bloody fucking beautiful the colours blooming across their bodies were as Johnny laced their fingers together, gripping tight. “Bonnie hands, attached to mah bonnie lad. Ye’re a gowk if ye think am not gunna love these hands when ye’re always protectin’ me with ‘em. Strong an’ soft an’ so fuckin’ braw, mo ghraidh.”

Simon’s gaze shifted, softened. Slowly, he reached out, pulling Johnny close again and nuzzling against his head, still sniffling, but calmer. Johnny petted at the blonde locks once more, feeling Simon hum in appreciation against his skin. There’d be plenty more time later for discussion. For declarations of love, promises of support, lazy mornings spent in bed until they needed to face the world again. For now, he had Simon in his arms. Exactly what Johnny needed, and—by the feeling of the blonde sagging against him, nuzzling his shoulder now before shyly planting his own tender kiss to the skin to watch the colour blossom—exactly what Simon needed too.

“Come on, m’eudail. ‘S gettin’ cold oot, an am ready t’ coorie in a bigger bed.”

Simon chuckled softly, wiping away tears as they both stood. “It’s not that much bigger.”

“But ‘s gunna have ye in it.” Johnny wiggled his eyebrows, pulling a genuine laugh from Simon as they walked together, hand in hand. He took the lead in bringing them to the barracks, catching a quick glimpse of a smiling Price before the captain disappeared. Pushing Simon into his room, Johnny kicked the door shut and made sure it locked before crowding Simon against the bed, watching with wide eyes as the blonde melted under his hands.

After so long waiting, Johnny finally bridged the distance between his and Simon’s lips, brushing them tenderly at first before diving in for more. Intent on searing his name, his touch, his love into Simon’s skin one kiss at a time.

Their bodies melded together as they curled up, hands grasping everywhere they could reach. Tangled together, Johnny kissed away each and every one of Simon’s lingering tears, a smile on his lips as he whispered every single loving word he could think of to the man he loved beyond all reason.

Finally, when the night began to draw to a close, when they yawned more than spoke, they crowded together on a single pillow. Their twin breaths mixed in the space between them, eyes filled with wonder and joy. 

For once, even if just for a moment, the stars had aligned to make everything perfect. Even knowing they had jobs to do and a world to face when the sun rose again, an unspoken promise filled the air between the two soulmates. They had finally found each other, the rest could come later. 

Nothing mattered to Johnny in this moment except for the—no, his—Ghost. 

His bonnie, braw, pure dead fucking brilliant Ghost.

[ladylooch]

Heaven with a Devil - [Lio X Savannah]

A/N: Sometimes it can be really hard to go back to early points in relationships after they have been started. Not with these two. Back in my fuck boi Lio era. I love this so much. The pull of each other. The way Lio is rewriting his rules for her this entire night. The way he can't help himself at the end tho. CHEF'S KISS!!!! Enjoy babes 😘

Originally from this request, which is so late that I'm not even gonna mention it if you don't Nonnie.. love you!

Word Count: 5.1k

Lio watches the fat, square ice cube in his old fashioned melt further into it’s self. He’s been nursing it for a little too long. It is more water than liquor now and he should probably push it away to head back to his hotel. But he waits all year for this drink in Dallas and he wants another one even though he has a game tomorrow. Maybe a better man would use that as an excuse for an early night, but not Lio. He doesn’t care what his dad says, being a little hungover at morning skate helps him play better. 

With that in mind, he downs the light brown liquid, then pushes the empty glass to the edge of the table.

Lio isn’t usually one to dine alone and he wasn’t supposed to tonight. But his teammate, Jasper, had to head back to the hotel to take an emergency call from his wife. Something about a water heater in the basement. Lio is thankful he has no wife or water heater back in Jersey to worry about. Nothing back home to distract him out on the road. It’s only business for him.

As if to call his bluff, the door swings open and inside walks Savannah Miller, the girl he’s been spending time with on his days and nights off. He watches as she tentatively crosses her arms, scanning the restaurant to gauge if she’s going to get an open spot or not. The hostess, who looks stressed as hell, is frantically explaining to a couple in front of the podium. Savannah’s eyes widen and then she bites her lip, looking back over the patrons. Lio looks too, realizing there probably isn’t a place for her, even at the bar. 

His hand raises involuntarily into the air, catching her gorgeous blue eyes. When she sees him, her face lights up. She steps around the couple who are now arguing with the hostess. As she approaches, Lio stands. 

“Hi.” She grins. “Funny you’re here.”

“Are you stalking me?” He asks curiously, tilting his head with amusement.

“No?”

“So you just happen to show up at the one place in Dallas I have to visit when we are here?”

“I figure if it’s good enough for your snobby ass I would probably like it.” Lio shouldn’t laugh at that, but he can’t help it. It’s funny. He is snobby and she has no problem calling that out in him. She drops her purse off her shoulder and reaches for the chair across from him that Jasper vacated.

“I got it.” He puts a hand on her wrist, then pulls the chair out for her.

“Thanks, Lee.” She murmurs, sitting down in the leather. His heart swells at the use of his familial nickname. He likes the way it sounds from her lips and how comfortable she is using it. Savannah glances at the able, then furrows her eyebrows. “Oh, did you already eat? I’ll just go back up front. You don’t have to stay for me.”

“I know. I want to.” He tells her. “And I want another drink.” He winks. 

“Ah. The old fashioned.”

“Yes. You gonna have one?” 

“I don’t love whiskey.”

“Not whiskey, bourbon.”

“Okay. Snob.” She sticks her tongue out at him then smiles a big grin that show off most of her teeth. 

“Say whatever you want now. By the end of this meal, you’ll understand.”

As Savannah is finished the last bite of her cedar plank salmon, she slowly begins nodding her head. Her napkin hits the table like a white flag of defeat. 

“I hate when you’re right.” She says after she swallows. Lio smirks at her over the glass of his fifth old fashioned. He is buzzed on the bourbon, but more on the girl across the table from him. Other than Lucie, she’s the only girl that it feels this easy to talk to. Even with his sister, their past clogs it all up and half the time he doesn’t know what to say to her. 

It’s not like that with Savannah.

Everything is so effortless. 

“Can I grab you two anything else?” The waitress asks as she picks up Savannah’s empty plate.

“You want dessert?” He asks her.

“God no. I mean, yes!” She clarifies in a rush. “I’m sure it is ridiculously good, but I cannot eat anymore.” 

“We are good. Just the check.” Lio responds to the waitress.

“Damn, I really wanted creme brûlée tho…” Savannah trails off. “But also, the dresses I have on this trip are not forgiving.” Lio has noticed. Not in a bad way. Well sometime, he guesses. They cling to her body like a second skin making him have to adjust his cup before he heads onto the ice for warm ups.

“You look good, Sav.” He murmurs, smoothing the crinkle between her eyebrows.

“I like when you call me that.” She admits, then bites her bottom lip. “It’s like we are… best friends or something.” Lio pauses after taking the final sip of his drink. He swallows.

“Friends, huh?” 

“What else would you call this?” She motions between them with her finger.

She has a point. Although they have hung out a few times, it’s not like they are dating. She’s definitely not his girlfriend, but the word friend just doesn’t quite explain what she does to him when she is around. Rather than complicate things, Lio just shrugs.

“I guess you’re right.”

Savannah’s blue eyes steel over a bit. She reaches for her old fashioned and downs the hearty drink in five more gulps. Lio stills, watching as she runs her tongue along her lips to lick up every last drop. He wonders if she does that in other situations too. And fuck it if he doesn’t want to find out sooner rather than later. 

He isn’t sure what is going on with him. Usually, he doesn’t care to get to know someone before he slides into his sheets with them. But things with Savannah are different. He felt it when they kissed at her Christmas Party and every night they have spent together since. As much as he itches to touch her and mark her up, he hesitates every time. He can tell she is bothered by it, now and the previous times he has put up the proverbial wall.

If he had to sum it up simply, he likes Savannah. And he doesn’t want to fuck it up like he has a tendency to do. 

As his mind reels, he watches her get more and more worked up across the white table cloth from him. She picks at her cuticles, then fluffs her hair. She pulls her purse into her lap and digs around for her lip gloss. Heat creeps up Lio’s neck as she swishes her lips together then puckers them absentmindedly. 

She glances at her watch, her expensive bangles clattering together over Cartier gold.

“Tired?” He asks as the waitress slides his card and the receipt back onto the table. 

“Yeah of a lot of things.”  Savannah smirks. 

“Do I want to ask?” He lifts his one hip to put his wallet back into his pocket.

“Probably not.” She sasses back.

“I feel like that means I better.” 

“You act like you know women, Lio, but I don’t think you do.”

“Enlighten me?”

“I don’t know if you deserve it.” Lio looks away then shrugs.

“Okay.” He brings the receipt closer to him so he can tip generously then slide it back to the edge. “Wanna grab a drink at the bar?”

The place has mostly cleared out and although Savannah looks like she would rather do anything else, Lio wants the opportunity to change her mind about him. Why? He couldn’t tell you except that the thought of her losing interest in him has his chest feeling tight.

“Fine. I have nothing else to do tonight anyway.”

“Humbling as always.” He laughs, pushing back from his chair. Lio grabs her hand, leading her through the tables to the wooden bar with a green marble top. It looks like something out of a 90s supper club that specifically hosted lawyers. When he reaches two empty bar stools, he pulls them out, then helps Savannah slide in closer to the bar. She stretches her green dress down to cover more of her thigh after crossing her legs. 

“So what do you think about facing the Stars without your top goaltender?” She murmurs after they got their drinks. 

“Off the record?”

“Yes, Lee. You and I are always off the record here.” There is a bite there, one Lio doesn’t care to look into at all. 

“It’s probably gonna suck.” He admits after a sip of whiskey. “But what do you do? Guys get hurt. The season continues. Gotta play.” 

The shift in conversation to work related topics helps ease Lio and Savannah back into a comfortable vibe. Well, so does the liquor. They both have two more old fashioneds each and while Lio has drank at this level before, Savannah is clearly in her happy, drunk phase, which has him tossing his card across to the bartender to close out before she can think about ordering another one. Lio slides her water glass closer to her and she takes it without question.

“You’re so confusing sometimes, Lio.” She suddenly mutters. “Like sometimes you ignore me and sometimes you look at me like you can’t get enough of me.” Lio stares back at her, unsure what to do or say. “And I know I probably shouldn’t even say this, but I feel like I get to because we have kissed and done over the clothes stuff, and I just want you to know that I don’t like when you act like that.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Like I’m different or something?” Lio stares at her in shock. She should want to be different. Lio knows he isn’t a Saint when it comes to women. “Like I can’t believe Lio Meier has taken me on four dates and hasn’t slept with me.”

Whoa.

A dark red blush scrapes up Lio’s white cheeks as people turn to look over at them.

“Actually.” She giggles like this is funny. She adjusts her crossed legs to the other side before continuing. “Since you just paid, make that five. Or six because you paid twice tonight!”

“This wasn’t a date.” He shakes his head. “Guys can pay without it being a date. We didn’t even come here together.”

“Oh. Does that mean I fit into your special category that gets me laid?” 

Her words are a challenge. A serious one. Lio can see it in her ocean deep blue eyes and the way she runs her tongue slightly along her top teeth. He likes when she gets like this- challenging, interesting, dragging his attention away from anything else except for her. Lio smirks. His fingers dance along her bare calf, then over the edge of her sweater dress that keeps slouch and giving him peaks of her red bra. His fingers drift up higher, almost like he is going in for a feel, then divert to the edge of her bar stool, scraping it across the floor so she’s practically in his lap. 

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” Her slender eyebrows shoot up and her mouth drops open in a sound that’s a little too breathy to not be a moan.

There is a strange, foreign feeling in Lio’s stomach when her hot gaze dares to meet his. The organ twists and dips again when her hand presses into his upper thigh and she leans forward, lips pornographically parted. Lio wants to see what those lips look like parting for the head of his cock. He brings his right hand up, stroking her bottom lip. His fingers spread out from her cheek to her neck, bringing her to his mouth. Her tongue shoves between his lips immediately, sparking a fire in his chest that zings down to his groin.

Jesus. He thought the look of her lips was hot, but the way she uses them has him wanting to toss her on top of this bar and fuck her for everyone to see. She’s never kissed him like this before. It’s like every kiss they shared before this she was holding back, being polite. Now, Lio wonders if he even knows what he’s getting himself into. 

But his dick starts throbbing in his boxer briefs and he can’t think of much else other than burying it between her thighs. 

“Let’s go to my room.” Savannah says, pulling back from him. Her mouth is wet and red, completely void of the lipstick she had a few minutes ago. Lio wipes the back of his mouth, feeling it on his lips and tongue. “Sorry.” She chuckles, jumping down from the barstool as he stands. She reaches up, wiping at the space between his lip and nose. “You’re good now.” She assures. Lio head nods at the bartender who smirks. 

Savannah isn’t the first girl Lio has taken out of this place. 

But she’s the first girl to make his hands shake with need.

Lio and Savannah walk shoulder to shoulder down the sidewalk to their hotel. They breeze through the lobby with their faces tucked into their jackets. A few of his teammates are at the hotel bar. He looks the opposite direction from them, hoping to avoid a run in. They make it to the elevators then step in. Lio leans back into the wall after Savannah presses the number for her floor.

“I’m assuming we should go to my room?” Staff rooms tend to be spread out more within the hotel than the players. Lio’s room is flanked by two teammates who may see or hear her in his room. 

“Yeah.” Lio confirms, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. Maybe he should grab her and kiss her again, but in the intense LED lighting of the elevator, they feel too exposed. He doesn’t care for himself, but Savannah has been open with him about how hard she worked to get here. He may be a selfish prick at times, but he would never want to harm her reputation or career.

Savannah pulls her room key out of her jacket then walks in, holding the door for Lio to enter behind her. Her room looks identical to his, except smells more feminine, like a faded version of whatever perfume she dabbed on her wrists this evening. Wildflowers like home, he thinks to himself, remembering the connection he made at the Christmas party she hosted a few weeks ago.

Lio shrugs his jacket off, tossing it on the chair to his left. His eyes watch Savannah as she awkwardly wrings at her hands. Her mouth is tight, chest unmoving like she is holding her breath. She sneaks a look at him, then floats her eyes towards the ceiling and across the room. Lio smiles coyly.

The liquid confidence she had at the bar is clearly waring off. 

Good. He wants her sober for this. 

“So… how do you do it?” She suddenly blurts. Lio raises an eyebrow at her, putting his hands in his pockets. He rocks slightly back on his heels, waiting for her to elaborate. Lio was under the impression that Savannah was more experienced. She’s acting like this is her first time having casual sex, which has Lio apprehensive about continuing.“Like… you do this a lot, right? Obviously. So how do you do it.” She gestures her hands. “Like should I just strip? Or do you expect a strip tease?” She squints her eyes and Lio realizes she is fucking with him. “Maybe you wanna take my underwear off with your teeth?”

“You’re wild.” He murmurs, then runs his tongue along his top teeth. “How about you just sit on the bed and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Oooo he likes a pillow princess. Figures,” She drawls as he steps closer. Her tongue runs over her puffy lips again and Lio can see this girl knows exactly what she is doing to him. She exudes confident sex appeal, no liquid courage needed. Good. He doesn’t want to teach her anything tonight. He wants to play, sink into her again and again, make her toes curl while her fingernails mark up his back. The tension between them is unbearable, the pulse in his cock making the arches of his feet collapse so he sways forward into her. 

His fingers trail over her mouth again, then he pushes his thumb through the slit of her lips. He works his thumb in and out, getting it wet and loaded with her saliva until she wiggles against the comforter between her spread thighs. She practically fucks the bed while sucking him deeper into her mouth. 

A small part of Lio knows that going through with this tonight will be a tipping point. For what, he couldn’t say. But you can’t fuck a girl like the one in front of him and not be changed. Not when he is used to no strings attached sex with women who don’t care much about him except for the commas in his bank account. To be fair, he doesn’t care about them either. But he’s never been with someone like her. Someone who knows what the risks are here and still reaches out to unbutton his jeans. She is deciding he is worth it and fuck if he doesn’t want to make sure she won’t regret it.

Lio removes his thumb from her mouth, then brings his hand down the front of her dress. He slides between her bra and her warm breast, rolling her nipple. She moans, a throaty, begging sound that has Lio’s balls tightening up to his shaft.

He could come just like this with her. His hand on her breast. Her hand dipping into his underwear stroking him to life.

“Do you have a condom?” She asks, rising to her knees on the bed. She scoots back a bit, then flips her hair to one side. Lio watches her ruby lips part and her tongue connect with the slit of his head oozing a pearl of pre-cum. 

“Yes.” He hisses as his answer. Lightning explodes in his cock as her mouth and hand move in unison. He struggles to keep his eyes open as her mouth collapses on him like a warm, wet hug. “Fuck.” He groans, head falling back towards the ground. He stays like that for one, two, three strokes, then tilts back forward. He gently cups her throat, bringing her off him and to his mouth to kiss her. He needs to taste her, to take claim of that mouth, and make it whimper his name as he buries himself deep into her pussy. 

Lio moves to take his hand off her throat now that she is up but she squeezes his wrist to keep him there. He applies light pressure, then tongues at her open mouth with vigor. Savannah collapses into him, pinning his forearm between their chests. Lio swirls his tongue in a circle, then slowly pulls back. He looks down at her like that, clutched in his hand by her throat, eyes closed, lips so swollen they almost look bruised. Then her eyes open, revealing a tumultuous, churning lake within them.

“Fuck me, Lio.” She demands.

From his back pocket, Lio pulls out the condom he told her he had on him. He is always prepared, tonight is no exception. He rips open the foiled wrapper, then pulls out the latex.

“Can you undress for me, babe?” He murmurs, stretching out the head, then holding it in place as he rolls the rest down. Savannah reaches for the hem of her green dress. She pulls it over her head, revealing a red lingerie set that Lio is never going to forget. “You always pack that on a work trip?” She shakes her head no, tentatively. Lio smiles reassuringly, then pulls her back to him with a hand on the small of her back. “You’re so sexy a priest would weep.” She bites down on her bottom lip as she giggles, making Lio kiss her teeth.

“We shouldn’t talk about God with what we’re about to do to each other.”

“Mmm, what I’m about to do to you, pillow princess.” His hand trails down to her ass, giving it a hearty grip. “Get on your knees.” 

She does so obediently, then looks at him over her shoulder. Her golden dew hair spreads out down her back, multiple shades of blonde that Lio has found himself examining from the back of the bus before. It is the prettiest it’s ever looked with those vibrant blue eyes begging him to hurry.

Lio presses the head of his covered cock to her entrance. She collapses around nothing in front of him, making Lio suck in a steadying breath. Fuck, she is so ready. He isn’t going to last long at all. To collect himself, Lio grabs one of the pillows from the head of the bed, tossing it in front of her.

“For your head.” He jokes. Savannah punts it 

“Are you gonna put it in or am I?” She snaps back at him. Her hand comes back, spreading her open further for him. Well, damn.

“Been awhile?” He asks while gripping the base of his shaft.

“Yeah.” She moans as he enters her. He isn’t sure if its the answer to his question or her reaction to his thrust. “Fuck.” She growls through clenched teeth. 

If Lio’s knees weren’t already resting on something, he is sure he would have collapsed under his own weight. Savannah’s pussy quivers and massages his cock with each of his pumps into her. He tries to stay slow, tries to build up the momentum, but he can’t hold back. Not with the way sweet begs drop from her mouth, or with how blindingly fast he can feel his balls racing towards orgasm. 

He rests his hand on the middle of her back, pushing her down into the mattress. His fingers stroke her spine as he hits his full depth, making her shudder and moan beneath his hands. Lio is sure this must be the soundtrack in heaven, or at least his version. Her pussy squelches, wetness beginning to ease the friction of the condom and letting him glide throughly in and out of her core.

“Wow!” She exclaims, “Yeah!” He watches as her hand moves from clutching the comforter to rolling fast circles over her clit. “More.”

He can do that.

His hockey hips piston, moving the bed with each pump into her heat. Savannah begins to flex and unflex her other hand around the blankets, then buck her hips to slam back into his. She rolls her hips causing Lio to slide out, frustrating both of them.

“Sav, stop helping.” He hisses at her.

“More. Please, Lio. Please.” He loves to hear her beg, but wants to satisfy her, so he bats her hand to the side. He leans over her back, connecting their skin as he rolls her swollen lips in rushed circles. “Oh!” Savannah brings her hands to her breasts, rolling and pinching her nipples as he pounds into her from behind. “Lio, I’m gonna…” 

She doesn’t need to finish, but it’s clear she can’t anyway. Her pussy explodes into vibrating trembles and pulses that have Lio seeing stars.

“Fuck.” He mumbles into her back, then he rubs her clit more furiously, making her shake harder and clench tighter around him. The breath is stolen from his lungs as his orgasm rips out of his cock and fills the condom around him. “Oh my fucking… Fuc…” He trials off, speechless as her spasms continue to milk him.

He rests his forehead on her warm skin delicately thrusting through both of their aftershocks. His finger stay on her clit, still but firm. He isn’t ready to let her go yet. Weeks of build up gone in five minutes. Five, rough, fast, earth shaking minutes. Slowly, they begin to come out of their trance. Savannah’s hand comes to Lio’s wrist. He drops his grip on her, then threads their fingers together against her stomach. He kisses her back then sits up, sliding himself out of her, careful as always of the condom. 

“You good?” He asks. She has yet to speak, just breathe heavily. 

“Mmmm.” She acknowledges, waving her hand as she collapses back into the mattress. Lio smirks.

“I’ll be right back.” He tells her while gently rubbing her hip. The bed dips as he crawls off of it towards the bathroom.

Lio tosses the condom into the toilet and flushes it, then he grabs a hand towel from the rack to his left. He glances into the bedroom where Savannah still lays on her back, spread out like a starfish. Her breasts rise and fall heavily as she tries to catch her breath. Lio smiles. He knows a satisfied woman when he sees one.

Meticulously, he cleans himself, then grabs a fresh towel for Savannah. He leans back through the doorway. 

“Do you want a wet or a dry towel?”

“Wet.” She responds. “Girls like a dry one?”Lio shrugs.

“There was one once.” 

“Can’t imagine you saw her again.”

“I usually don’t see anyone multiple times.” He says, coming back into the room. Savannah watches his approach, eyes on his despite the gorgeous view he provides elsewhere.

“Like ever?”

“There have been a few.” He admits, but it hasn’t been in awhile.

“So I’ll never see you again?” She pouts at him.

“We work together. This is a little different.”

“Yeah.” She nods, grabbing the towel from him. Lio plops onto his back next to her, putting a hand behind his head as he props up on two, fluffy pillows. “Thank you for…” She trails off, biting her lip. “Your discretion.” She settles on. He looks over at her, watching as she tosses the towel onto the floor. 

“I’m not going to say anything.” He assures her.

“I know. If I thought you would, this wouldn’t have happened.” Lio nods.

“Yeah, I just want you to hear me say that.” He looks away, stretching his neck out from side to side. Savannah stays sitting up for a moment, looking at Lio. Then she glances away.

“I’m kinda cold. Can I get under there?”

“Mhm.” He sits up, then together they both slide under the white comforter. Savannah rolls onto her left side, cheek propped on her hand as she looks at him. Her blonde hair is wild about her face, mused from him. He decides he likes it that way. She looks good, not messy or disheveled, but perfectly tousled. 

“I like to cuddle after sex.”

Lio playfully rolls his eyes at her. Of course she does. They all do. Usually Lio is long gone before cuddling can even be discussed.

“Please?” She pouts at him. He sighs, like it’s such a burden to move, then opens his arms for her.

“Mmm this is nice.” She mumbles. Her cheek warms his bare chest, creating a glow that runs deep through his body. Heat tingles down to the tips of his toes as he rests his hand on her hip. The curve of it perfectly holds his hand without needing to grip onto her. “Now we can talk about the names we want for our children.” She muses. “What about Sarah?”

“Good god.” He groans.

“You’re gonna fall for me, Lio Meier. I know it.” She kisses his chest. 

Lio should have run right there. But he doesn’t. Instead, he does something more terrifying- they talk. About everything. Growing up, how they got to these points in their careers, what their last meal on earth would be. And they tease each other- Savannah about Lio’s slight accent with certain words, Lio with Savannah’s overly girly answers to everything, and together at the expense of his various teammates. 

“You are a good interview though.” Savannah murmurs to him. “I always appreciate your thoroughness. You’re a great quote.”

“Yeah. My cousin Lucie says its cause I like to hear myself talk.” 

“She might have something there.”

“Mmm.” Lio murmurs sleepily. “You’d like her.” Silence fills the room as Savannah rubs at the indent of his left abs. She drawls a heart, then a few squiggly lines followed by another heart. 

“I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you.” Savannah murmurs. “I feel like you’ve let me peel back a few layers of your onion. Thank you.” 

“Just don’t write about it.” He jokes.

“Not in this month's article at least.” She pokes him.

Then they settle into silence again. A question hangs in the air with the light still on and Lio still in Savannah’s bed. He answers it by turning out the bedside lamp. Darkness envelopes them. Quickly, Savannah’s breathing evens out. Lio’s eyes are heavy and Savannah’s naked body feels so good snuggled into the side of his. So good that he almost let’s himself fall asleep with her like this. 

But then a tightening happens at the base of his skull. Awareness pulls his eyes back open. This isn’t him. He doesn’t stay over at a woman’s place. They stay at his, so he can kick them out immediately when he’s done with their morning fuck. He gently turns to take in Savannah’s sleeping face. He purses his lips, resisting the urge to wake her up by kissing her still puffy mouth. He has never craved a woman so intensely after just having her, but his dick aches to be back inside of her.

Shit. This is ridiculous.

Lio holds his breath, then shifts away so Savannah gently rolls onto her pillow. Years of practice leaving sleeping women has her transferring to the bed without waking. Her hands stretch across the warm sheets of the bed he just left, almost searching for him. A slight uneasiness fills Lio’s chest, but he forces it away, focusing on gathering up his discarded clothes. 

He needs to get out of here.

Before any of his teammates or the Devils staff see him. So Savannah doesn’t get in trouble, he tells himself.

But if Lio was an honest man, he would admit that him slipping out of room 629 has nothing to do with the woman asleep in that California King.

[aerodaltonimperial]

MAKE OUT IN THE CAR, THNX