fast-reader

Super detailed questions about your OCs

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?
2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?
3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?
4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?
5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?
6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?
7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?
8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?
9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?
10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?
11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?
12. What is their favourite food?
13. What is their least favourite food?
14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?
15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?
16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?
17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?
18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else
19. What’s their least favourite genres?
20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?
21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?
22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?
23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?
24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?
25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?
26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?
27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?
28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?
29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?
30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?
31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?
32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?
33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?
34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?
35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?
36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?
37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?
38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?
39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?
40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?
41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?
42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?
43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?
44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?
45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?
46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?
47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?
48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?
49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?
50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

Bookish Questions
  1. What/who got you into reading?
  2. Your first favorite book?
  3. Your current favorite book?
  4. Favorite book of all time?
  5. Least favorite book of all time?
  6. What book/s can you not live with out?
  7. What book/s that you rave about?
  8. An author/s that you dislike/hate?
  9. An author/s you like/love?
  10. What popular book do you just hate?
  11. How many books to you read in a month?
  12. How many books to you read in a year?
  13. What do you do to get through a reading slump?
  14. How many reading slumps do you get a year?
  15. Favorite genre?
  16. Least favorite genre?
  17. How many bookshelf/bookshelves do you own?
  18. How many books do you own?
  19. Biggest book haul?
  20. How many books do you get/buy in a year?
  21.  Goodreads challenge/reading goal for this year?
  22. Favorite series?
  23. Least favorite series?
  24. Longest series you own?
  25. Pick the 23 book on your bookshelf, open it to the 86 page and find the 13th line. Type it out for us.
  26.  Favorite quote?
  27. Favorite character/s?
  28. Least favorite character/s?
  29. How many books have you read so far this year?
  30. How many books have you read so far this month?
  31. Do you read ‘classics’?
  32. Do you read Fanfiction?
  33. Do you read smut?
  34. Do you read LGBTQ books?
  35. Do you read Poetry?
  36. Do you like Poetry?
  37. Any other readers in your family?
  38. Are any of your friends readers?
  39. Does your family support your reading habits?
  40. Favorite book turned movie?
  41. Least favorite book turned movie?
  42. OTP?
  43. Do you like ebooks?
  44. Do you use ebooks?
  45. Paperback or Hardback?
  46. Do you use a library?
  47. Do you want to be an Author or are you content to just be a reader?
  48. Do you have any books already written by you?
  49. Do you want to be a Poet?
  50. Book/s that made you cry?
  51. Book/s that made you scared?
  52. What book character does your mother remind you of?
  53. What book character does your father remind you of?
  54. What book character does your significant other remind you of?
  55. Won any writing competitions? 
  56. Won any poetry competitions?
  57. A book/writing related job that you would love to do?
  58. Do you have plenty of bookish items around your house?
  59. Do you want more books?
  60. Do you consider yourself a fast reader?
  61. Do you consider yourself a slow reader?
  62. Do you have book buying bans for yourself?
  63. Do you gift your friends and family with bookish items/books?
  64. What else do you get besides books at a bookstore?
  65. Do you use bookmarks a lot?
Fic Rec - The Afterlife Fic (The Best I Ever Had in My Entire Life... Or Death)

The Afterlife Fic (The Best I Ever Had in My Entire Life… Or Death) by LovingCup (@iamjaggerme​ on Tumblr)

AU- After dying in a vehicle accident, Louis Tomlinson arrives in the Afterlife. Not Heaven and certainly not Hell, Louis finds himself in Judgment City UK: a pristine city  where the food and entertainment are divine and the newly departed must undergo a Review of their life on Earth to determine if they have lived a life worthy of advancement in the universe, or if they must be returned to Earth to be born again in a new body.

On his first full day in the Afterlife, Louis meets Harry Styles, and the two have an instant connection. Over the course of their Reviews, Louis and Harry fall in love and they begin to find that even though they didn’t know each other on Earth, they are nonetheless linked to one another in the most perfect ways. Both are hoping to move ahead in the universe together, but they are challenged with the threat of separation if one or both of them is sent back to Earth to be born again.

Loosely based on the Albert Brooks’ film “Defending Your Life” starring Albert Brooks and Meryl Streep. One scene in particular is taken heavily from the movie, but other than that scene and the general concept, this story veers far far away from the film. There were no blowies in the 1991 movie, I swear!

PLEASE do not let the length of this fic scare you off, it is sooo worth the lengthy read!! (and don’t let the length of this fic rec scare you off either, I just can’t help rambling about this fic!)

So this fic, y’all. THIS FIC!! 

From the get-go with this fic, I was hooked. I laughed, I cried, I screamed, I sobbed, I cheered, I sighed, I cooed, I giggled, I had light-bulb moments, I was on the edge of my seat,, I was invested in the characters, I was rooting for them, and I just could not stop reading. The writing is amazing!

There’s love, there’s angst, there’s drama, there’s fighting, there’s laughter, there’s communication, there’s miscommunication, there’s romance, there’s dread, there’s happiness, there’s sappiness, there’s dread, there’s relief, there’s hope.

(Those aren’t in order, teehee!)

I’m a fast reader, ok? Especially when I read fic. I blow through it, skim some sections, and generally don’t retain much. Reading a WIP doesn’t bother me because I’ll just read it again later and not really remember details about what I read before.

BUT THIS FIC!

There are so many little details and clues that the author has put into the writing. As I was reading, I had theories about what might happen, how a detail I just noticed might come into play later, or I’d go back and re-read something because I picked up a detail later on that had me re-evaluating something. But it’s not overloaded that you feel like you have to study the fic in order to follow it. I want to talk to other people and compare notes about this fic. Did someone else pick up on details I didn’t? It’s entirely possible and I wanna know!

I started reading this fic a few months ago, and ever since, it has stuck with me. I’ve still been going on to anybody who would listen how great this fic is and that they should read it!

There are several quotes that I absolutely love, but I’ll just give you this non-spoilery one:

“Oh come on now. Don’t play coy. I use forty-eight percent of my brain, remember? I know that you know that your ass is one of your best features. Hell, you probably walk into rooms backwards just so that ass of yours can enter first.”

If anybody wants to chat about this fic, I am MORE than willing! My messages are open!!

anonymous asked:

I could use some cheering up and as an idea I was wondering if you could do the batfamily as 'things you've done' or something like that? If you feel like it, there's no pressure. Thank you for being around, your crack tag helped me a lot last night :)

bruce: got downstairs, realized my mom had guests, stared at them, immediately went upstairs again without a word as my mom kept yelling after me to come down

dick: every time i open the fridge at 4am thinking i’m silent but wake up the entire neighborhood because i remembered we have leftover food

barbara: i used to be an ultra fast reader in elementary school to the point my teachers never believed me when i’d finish assigned passages for reading in half the time compared to the other kids, so i once wrote a report on the text i had finished reading at the same amount others were done reading the assignment. added “you’re sometimes rude :)” in a corner for the teacher

jason: convinced with a straight face an ultra conservative teacher in high school that the smutty fanfiction she confiscated from the girl sitting next to me and kept showing me during class was in fact part of a book i was planning on publishing

tim: didn’t drink my (gross) antibiotics when i was sick but kept insinsting i had when my mom asked me why i was lying. the following morning i got a spoon, poured some medicine on it and then “dropped” it near the sink. my mom later found it and apologized because “it must have fallen on the floor last night and i didn’t see it”

damian: as a kid visited a family friend’s pet shop during rush hour, went to their backyard, played with some cats and dogs around the place, accidentally stayed too long so i was locked inside for two hours in the middle of the night. bonus: my father hadn’t realized

stephanie: told a very annoying kid of a family friend that children who shout all the time transform into donkeys later in life. he didn’t believe me so the next week they visited, i showed him a googled picture of a man with a literal ass for a head on the laptop. he cried (i laughed)

cassandra: age 13, blatantly told someone i would rip them a new one if they kicked their cat in front of me again. he took a step back

alfred: baked a cake to mask the smell of blood after i had patched up my wounded dog

- MASTERLIST  
                 KAI PARKER SMUT -


•  I Always Get What I Want
Kai keeps tugging on reader’s skirt , she tells him off but thats only the beginning …

•  Roommates (A Prison World Story)
Reader gets sent to the Prison World where Kai is. They have briefly crossed parts before  and have spend nearly 5 months together in there, over time getting closer and eventually move in together (as friends , things grow from there) …

•  Don’t Challenge Me (a bit of a sequel to Roommates )

•  All I Want
Kai stalks Reader who is super annoyed because Kai never stops talking , dropping hints about him being in love with her and one day Reader finds Kai sleeping in her bed …

•  Magic Fingers (a prequel of sorts to Don’t Let Me Go)

 Bring Me To Life
Reader is in love with Kai but he ignores it because the feelings he has scare him and is not sure if it’s love.

•  How I Really Feel
Reader is a part of the MF gang and a which with a different kind of powers. She likes him but Kai doesn’t seem to like her but that’s not exactly true.

•  Just Tonight
(After Kai gets out of the 1994 Prison World , before the merge).
Kai meets Reader at the Grill and they end up making out. Later on Reader leaves and Kai follows her in the dark streets of Mystic Falls.

•  I Know You Like Me
Reader and Kai always are cocky / tease each other , one day Reader is kidnapped and Kai comes to her rescue.

•  Thunderstorms
Reader is afraid of Thunderstorms and Kai sees that a big storm is coming and rushes to her place worried because of a blackout.

•  Lessons
(in the new Prison World) Reader gets sent into the Prison World with Kai. One day Kai comes back and finds out she had sneaked into his room while he was out of the house.

•  No Touching - Part II - Part III (🔥🔥🔥)
Kai get’s injured and get’s horny so Reader has to ‘take care’ of him.

•  Hands to Myself
Reader and Kai make a bet  on how long each of them can last without kissing / touching the other.

•  Feed On Me
Kai and Reader are best friends. After the transition Kai finds himself wanting to bite her , feed on her and …

•  Friends With Benefits
Reader and Kai are friends with benefits.

•  Fuck Away The Pain
(based on the song ‘’Fuck Away The Pain” by Divide The Day)

•  Under The Stars
Reader feels insecure because of all the supernatural girls throwing themselves at Kai and she doesn’t feel like she is good enough.

•     Taking Back My Love [smut] 😈
(based on the song ‘Taking Back My Love’ by Enrique Iglesias & Ciera)

•     Moonlight [smut] 🔥
Reader and Kai live together but are not a couple. One hot summer night he wakes up and she is not in the house.

•     Miss me ? [smut] 🔥
Reader comes home finding Kai touching himself.

•     That’s Kinda Hot [smut] 🔥
Reader squirts for the first time.

•     Punishment [smut] 🔥
Kai sees Reader dancing with another guy and then punishes her.

•     Having Fun ? [smut]
Kai is on the phone and Reader is suuupppeeer horny , but he wont pay attention to her and she decides to take matters in her hands.

•     New Things [smut]
Reader gives Kai the head for the first time.

•     Scars [smut]
Reader is a werewolf who has been in a lot of fights and has some scars on her body , and she doesn’t want to sleep with Kai because of them.

•     If You Want It - Take It [smut]
Reader is sent to the Prison World where Kai is but doesn’t know she is not alone until one day they meet accidentally and move in together @ the Salvatores.

•    Bumpy Ride [smut] 😈
Kai and Reader go on a road trip ; He teases reading right before they leave and then its a bumpy ride.

•     Fast Friends
Reader meets Kai at the Salvatore’s and he teases her with magic.

•      Midnight Surprises 🔥
A sequel to ‘If You Want It - Take It

•      Rule Breaker [smut]😈
Kai has set rules when it comes to him and Reader doing things and Reader breaks one of them.

•      Snowy Honeymoon 🔥
Reader is a witch and she gets married to Kai , seemingly neither of them liking the other but on their honeymoon something happens.

Nowhere Fast (Logan x Reader)

 Word Count: 7k+

Rating: M for some mild smut

Warnings: None

Note:  I’m playing fast and loose with the events of “Logan” so most of this is pretty inaccurate. Took the basic premise and turned it into a fix-it fic slash road trip romance because the ending of that godfuckingdamn movie made me want to cry and I couldn’t leave the love of my life like that.
Also keep in mind that I have no fucking idea how cars work so anything in this oneshot is just guesswork.

ALSO the reader is said to be nineteen because duh this started out as a shameless self insert because I ADORE logan and he deserves love and someone who will appreciate his abs
Enjoy and also SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK KMS

It becomes his next mission, after Laura. Saving kids like her. Bringing them up across the border. And of course it’s easier said than done, but Logan feels like he owes it to them. It’s partially his fault their lives have gone to hell, anyway.

That’s how he meets (Name). She’s a mutant, the first natural-born one he’d seen in years– not strong, though, not with all the shit Transigen has been fucking dumping into the food and the water supply– and her entire telekinesis thing had brought a horde of those asshole Reavers crawling out of whatever hellhole they’d been stowed away in to track her down.

He picks her up in a bar somewhere east of Phoenix, Arizona.

And–

The first thing he really registers about her is that she’s fucking pretty.

He notices her in fragments– she’s attractive in that sort of innocent way, with wide, wide eyes and dark lashes and a soft pink mouth and a bright smile, cutoff denim shorts exposing just a little more skin than actually necessary, enough that it makes him swallow around a sudden tightness in his throat.

He ignores it, focuses hard on doing what he came here to do, manages to get her out of there and into his truck without incident. Somehow she ropes him into small talk on the drive, though, and that– that’s where everything just ends up going to shit.

He tells her he’s like her– a mutant– explains where they’re going and why. Up through Michigan, to Canada, he tells her, because the Reavers will be expecting them to try to get through North Dakota again, and he’d rather be safe than dead. A solemn silence follows, which she breaks by making an odd sort of happy noise at whatever music is playing through his shitty speakers, and forcing him to crank up the radio for a song he’s never heard before. She tells him that she loves the song with a smile that’s pleasantly genuine. He says all he likes is alcohol and cigars and for some reason she finds that funny.

She asks him how old he is– “Old enough,” he says, avoiding the question– and then they lapse into a short silence.

“I’ll be nineteen soon,” she mentions as he’s crossing the state lines into New Mexico, an unimportant remark made in passing, and Logan feels his throat tighten inexplicably.

He glances over at her, mumbles some intelligible reply, rakes a too-hot gaze up her legs and over the front of her half-unbuttoned flannel shirt and registers that his palms are sweaty and his mouth is dry and that his stomach is sinking–

She’s barely even legal , he thinks, hopelessly resigned to how much he already knows he doesn’t fucking care.

  —————

They get to the safe house just fine, and Logan breathes a heavy sigh of relief when they pull into the winding dirt driveway at nearly two in the morning– the hardest part of this is over. His connection will be over within the week to take her up to where the rest of the kids are, and that’ll be it.

He never shows up.

Which is just fucking great, and leaves him with the responsibility of bringing her up to Canada himself.

It’s fine, he tells himself, as he pushes open the heavy oak door to the safehouse and realizes it’s only got two rooms.

Fine.

There are separate beds, at least.

It’s not fine.

He finds out almost immediately that she sleeps in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear. That first day is hell– it’s like she’s actively trying to kill him; she runs around the house they’re forced to share in the tiniest goddamn shorts he’s ever seen and seems to own a fucking million of those tight, low-cut tank tops. And it’s not just that– she’s a good kid, too, which just makes it worse.

She’s cheerful. She’s smart and a little sarcastic and ridiculously positive, but she’s also focused. Nothing he does goes over her head. At first Logan spends half his time being ridiculously fucking careful about what he says and how he says it just to make sure he doesn’t accidentally scare her away, because he knows he can be frightening. He’s killed people before.

Three days in he becomes convinced that the girl honestly doesn’t care. Nothing he does ever phases her.

It’s nice.

She’s clever, and brave, and unfailingly, stupidly kind.

It’s fucking weird.

On the last day, he wakes up to her fucking making him breakfast at seven in the morning like it’s a normal thing for her to do.

“It’s sort of a thank you, for, you know,” she mumbles through a mouthful of blueberry pancakes, “For saving my life.”

“Mm,” Logan responds, trying not to stare– because her nightshirt is incredibly fucking see-through and he might be two-hundred-something years old but he’s still a man, and–

Fuck.

It’s fine.

(It’s not fine.)

“You could say thank you,” she whines through his silence, pretty obviously not meaning it.

“Thanks,” Logan replies, more gruffly than he intended. He pours cheap convenience-store syrup over the pancakes and focuses harder than necessary on cutting the stack into neat, even pieces. She bites her bottom lip. He does not look.

“So,” she says, looking up at him through her lashes thoughtfully. “I– what are we going to do? I mean, we can’t– how long are we staying here?”

He licks his lips. Swallows. Drops his fork down on his plate and clears his throat with a cough that’s a little too rattling to be healthy, and says,

“Not long.”

She doesn’t say anything.

It surprises him, how easily she accepts the answer. To be honest, it’s nice, because he really didn’t feel like arguing, but a part of him wonders about her family and her friends and if there will be anyone to miss her– if Transigen fucking left anyone alive to miss her. The answer, if he had to guess, is no. She’s alone. She’s probably already been through her fair share of hell, but she still sings as she does the dishes, swaying gently to the tinny sound of some acoustic pop song as it filters in from the cheap radio he keeps on the kitchen window sill. He finds himself in awe of how incredibly fucking happy she still manages to be.  

Logan leans back in his chair and he sips at his coffee and he watches her as she stares almost pensively out the bay window above the sink, her face illuminated in the warmth of the morning sunlight.

It’s nice, he thinks. It’s normal.

It doesn’t stay that way. Things like this usually don’t.

  —————

They clear out two days later. Logan leaves two hundred dollars crammed in the space between the front step and the doorframe for his contact who had set up the safehouse– if he isn’t already dead– and loads the remaining food and supplies into the back of his beat-down pickup truck.

“What the fuck,” she says, looking half-dead in the passenger seat– and it’s not really a question, so Logan doesn’t bother to really answer.

“Seat belt.”

“What the fuck,” she repeats, louder, voice taking on a whiny sort of edge that should really piss him off more than it does. He’s already got a soft spot for her, apparently. Jesus Christ.

Logan grits his teeth.

What ?” he responds, deadpan.

“Wh– you dragged me out of bed at five in the fucking morning,” she says, kicking her feet up on the dashboard with a yawn.

Logan growls, and swats at her kneecaps with the folded-up, coffee-stained road map he’d swiped from one of those shady-looking rest stops by the highway. “Get ‘em off,” he snaps.

She flashes him a rude look, and in a move entirely indicative of how young she actually is, sticks her fucking tongue out at him , a flash of red against the white of her teeth.

And Logan–

Logan laughs. He laughs, the sound abrupt and kind of stilted, like he isn’t used to doing it, like there hasn’t been a reason for him to in what feels like years.

Which is probably true.

Fuck, he thinks.

The girl– she’s still looking at him, flatly unimpressed. Waiting for an answer, or an explanation, or something.

“We had to leave early,” Logan says, risking a side-glance over at her as he maneuvers out of the dirt driveway. “Makes sure we won’t be followed.”

She stares at him for a moment longer, and then heaves a sigh, leaning back against the leather-upholstered seat.

“I forgot about that,” she eventually offers. It’s kind of an apology.

He responds with a noncommittal grunt, reaching over to turn the radio up.

Soon enough they find the main road, and start heading northwest on a mostly-empty highway. The sky is still dark. The only light comes from the streetlamps, glinting off of the tinted windows in eerie, fleeting patterns as he drives past them, one by one.

“You’re not forgiven, though,” she says eventually, lips twitching up into a semblance of a smile. “I don’t get up before ten.”

Logan rolls his eyes. He wants to say something dismissive. Something rude, something to shut down whatever semblance of a friendship they’ve established.

Before he can muster up the courage to say anything she’s rolling down the windows and sliding on a pair of fucking sunglasses even though it’s like, five-thirty in the fucking morning, and turning up the radio as far as it will go. In the distance, the sun finally slips past the horizon line, and the light takes on this warm, ethereal sort of tone, highlighting the planes of her face in a way that makes Logan think about– things. Stupid things.

She’s pretty in a way that she shouldn’t be.

Whatever Logan was about to say dries up and disappears somewhere below his adam’s apple.

He looks at her.

His reflection stares back at him from the mirrored lenses of her knockoff Ray Bans.

“I can’t see shit,” she says, and, again, he finds himself laughing.

  —————

The first night, he manages to find a place for them to sleep: a motel about a half mile from the highway, nestled between a tiny gas station and a greasy, stereotypical “All-American” burger joint.

And it’s shitty.

Logan walks into their room and feels like he’s been blasted back to the fucking 1980s– between the weirdly overused floral patterns fading on the bedspread and the honest-to-god shag carpet, it’s like he’s stumbled into a time capsule.

“Ew,” the girl says, inspecting an odd stain on the chintz armchair by the coffee table. “ Ew.”

Logan scans the room. One bed. No couches, just chairs. The girl notices him silently studying the furniture and immediately sees the problem.

Her solution surprises him.

“We can share,” she says nonchalantly, “Just don’t snore.”

Logan opens his mouth, but doesn’t actually say anything. He closes it.

Right.

And that goes about as well as expected– which is to say they go to bed a respectable distance away from each other, and Logan manages to fall asleep without thinking too much about the practically half-naked girl next to him.

Except-

He wakes up on his side, hip digging uncomfortably into the box spring set beneath the paper-thin mattress, and finds her tucked into the empty space left by his body.

Right , he thinks, again, not really awake, and to be honest, uncertain as to whether or not he’s even conscious.

She shifts. Yawns, breath ghosting hotly against his bare chest. Makes absolutely no effort to move away, not even a little, and Logan feels something that’s almost panic begin to simmer in his abdomen, dissolving any of his remaining sleepiness and leaving him awake and painfully aware.

So he does the logical thing, which is to try to disentangle himself as quietly as possible, before realizing he’s already pressed up against the wall and that there is absolutely nowhere to go.

Fuck, Logan thinks, with the appropriate amount of irritation.

At least he hasn’t popped a boner.

He shifts uncomfortably.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Physical closeness– he refuses to call it intimacy, because it isn’t– has never bothered him before. His truck is small and road trips are long and at this point he should be used to the inevitability of being forced to share a bed with someone.

It would help, he thinks, if that someone were less attractive and less available and less exactly his type. Logan still isn’t sure if he even has a type, but if he did, she’d be it.

(He’s so screwed.)

She yawns, again, and then uses Logan’s body as leverage to push herself away from him towards the end of the bed. And Logan– he stays perfectly fucking still and forces himself to ignore the heat of her palms against his lower abdomen.

“Morning,” she mumbles, sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of the bed. She stretches, and her nightshirt rides up, up, up, exposes the curve of her spine as her back arches. The sun streams in from the nearby window and kind of fucking surrounds her, makes her look like some sort of goddamn angel, or something else equally as stupid.

Logan answers her with a noncommittal grunt and buries his face back in one of the lumpy pillows, legitimately praying for strength.

Getting up doesn’t help anything. They eat off-brand cereal for breakfast and he does his best to not talk. Later, she showers while he brushes his teeth, because they need to get on the road as soon as possible and sometimes that means awkward shit happens. He discovers there’s a sliding door to the bath, and it’s that bullshit frosted glass, not really see-through but not solid, either. It takes a ridiculous amount of effort to keep himself from watching– he can’t really see anything, nothing defined, anyway, but there’s the outline of her body through the condensation collecting on the glass, and it’s enough to make focusing on anything else difficult.

Jesus Christ.

It occurs to him, after they’ve checked out and after he’s thrown their bags in the back seat of his pickup, that ignoring her should be a lot easier than it’s ending up to be.

It isn’t.

They stop at the tiny convenience store next to the motel before leaving, to stock up on food.

“And gas,” he adds, staring at the meter, hovering just above ‘empty’.

She goes in to pay and Logan fills up the tank, fingers drumming absentmindedly against the dusty side of the car. He glances into the shop through the dirty glass window and his eyes fix on her almost immediately. She’s smiling and handing a twenty to the cashier– a young guy, about her age, who looks like he has no fucking idea how to react to so much genuine happiness being directed at him.

HIs immediate response is a startlingly aggressive rush of irritation towards the cashier, followed immediately by irritation at himself.

He used to be immune to this sort of shit, he thinks, shoving the gas nozzle back into its cradle.

Apparently that’s changed.

  —————

By the end of their sixth day on the road, they’re somewhere in Illinois and Logan is suffering.

The AC is out and his engine is overheated and he’s overheated and about two minutes away from what feels like a goddamn heat stroke. He’s not sure if he can even have those, but he is sure that he’s about to find out.

They might have enough time to stop for repairs and still be ahead of the people following them. But Logan isn’t going to risk it. He doesn’t want to fight. He’s tired, and there’s always another way, even if that means running.

He tells her they’re going to start driving at night, and her response is understandably negative. It still doesn’t stop him from pulling the truck out of the little bed-and-breakfast they’d ended up in and getting back on the road as soon as the sun sets. She complains for a solid two hours before she starts to fall asleep, drifting in and out of consciousness in the passenger seat.

They’re driving through a long stretch of wilting, sun-dried fields when it happens.

“Wh– fireworks?” She says, opening her eyes just as the first one explodes into a shimmer of red and white above the car.

Logan grunts in affirmative. “‘S the Fourth of July,” he says. “I think.”

She sits up straight in her seat, absentmindedly rubbing the spot on her neck where the seatbelt had bitten into her skin, and fixes him with an imploring look that he can barely see in his peripheral vision.

“No,” he says, already knowing what she’s going to ask.
“But I want to watch the fireworks. Just half an hour,” she answers, somewhat convincingly. “I’ll watch from the truck bed. You can be an asshole and just sit in the car.”

Logan manages to hold his own for about five entire minutes.

“Goddamnit,” he grumbles. She grins.

(In hindsight, giving in to her was a horrible, horrible idea.)

He takes his shitty, beat-up pickup truck and parks it down off the road in one of the fields, half-hidden from the road by a giant weathered sign that reads Land For Sale in peeling black paint, and she climbs into the back truck while he stares at the steering wheel and contemplates what he’s even fucking doing to himself at this point.

He gets out of the car.

She’s lying on her back in the bed of the truck, arms tucked behind her head. The suspension creaks perilously as Logan moves to sit beside her. The sky is clear and the stars are bright and the moon is glowing and full. A firework shoots up into the sky in a trail of golden smoke and explodes with a dull crack across the dark expanse of the horizon. Logan doesn’t care. He’s been alive long enough that any sense of wonder he had for them has just– dissipated.

Above them, fireworks continue to go off, flickering through the sky in bursts of bright, effervescent color.

Logan looks at her as she watches them. He thinks about the happy smile she’d given him when he’d agreed to this bullshit. He thinks about the corresponding warmth that had blossomed slowly in his chest somewhere between his ribs, and wonders, not for the first time, when everything had gotten so fucked.

  —————

They’re in a shitty roadside bar in Michigan and she’s kicking his ass at pool when he realizes he has a fucking problem.

They’ve been camped out for the last hour and a half, commandeering the pool table in the back corner of the bar surrounded by half-drunk wannabe-rednecks in sleeveless flannels and fourty-year-old men with beer bellies who pretty obviously peaked in high school. Logan’s had enough scotch to actually start feeling it, which has been getting easier and easier to accomplish as his fucking healing factor shuts down, or whatever, but that’s not what really matters. The buzzing inside of his head isn’t entirely because of the alcohol, anyway.

The girl– (Name)– is bent over the pool table lining up a shot, and his eyes make a slow sweep up her body almost without thinking about it, lingering over her legs and her ass and the slow sinuous curve of her spine and–

“I am… the best, ” she announces, pausing to make sure she’s succeeded in sinking the eight ball before gloating, “That’s two to one, against somebody who’s spent, what, twenty years doing nothing but bar hopping–”

Logan swallows, mouth feeling particularly dry, and finishes off the rest of his scotch.

“Shut up ,” he says, not really meaning it.

Their arms brush. Distantly, he can hear the low-pitched rumble of his own laughter. She’s saying something about a rematch and he can’t fucking say no to her because they’ve got time to kill and this is infinitely better than being stuck in another shitty motel room.

She’s moving around the table, collecting the pool balls to rack for their next match when somebody approaches her from the bar.

In hindsight, Logan should have fucking expected this. It’s a dive bar and half the men here are scum and the other half are just plain stupid, and she’s young, and attractive, easily the prettiest girl in the damn place– it shouldn’t be all that surprising that somebody else would notice that.

The guy– he’s tall. Reedy. Messy, dull hair and a shitty beard that’s patchy and frankly pathetic, like he made it through half of puberty before his body just fucking– gave up. He’s got sweat-stains on his faded Michigan University t-shirt and tobacco-stained teeth and Logan knows, logically, that she isn’t even remotely fucking interested, but–

That’s not what matters.

What matters is that this piece of shit had seen him, and her, and assumed that any sort of bullshit he planned on pulling would be perfectly okay, because there was no way that the two of them could ever be together, no, the guy hadn’t even bothered to fully look at Logan before dismissing him entirely.

And–

That makes him angry, even though he knows he’s got no right to be.

He comes up behind her. Curls his arm around her waist. He feels her stiffen and then relax into his side in less than a second, and a part of him wants to believe that the reaction is instinctive, natural, like she hadn’t even made the conscious decision to do it.

Logan grits his teeth and glares veritable daggers at the dirtbag leaning over her, and his anger must be palpable because the guy’s cocky, predatory smile withers and dies and he’s holding up his hands and walking away before Logan even has a chance to say anything to him.

She doesn’t move away. Instead, she leans into him, and lets out a heavy sigh of relief.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, reaching down to squeeze his hand. Logan stiffens– even that little amount of contact is enough to make his pulse beat faster, stronger, louder.

“We should get out of here,” he says, voice low and slightly gravelly. The events that had just unfolded– they don’t feel real. Like he’s outside himself watching everything unfold through a telescope a million miles away. What the fuck is he doing?

He swallows.

The look she gives him is soft, and Logan wonders if she realizes what’s happening, if she even gets it, gets the nights in the hotels and the hours together driving and the fireworks and the fucking bar fight he’d been willing to start for her, gets what it all means when the incidents are lined up like that, one after another–

“Yeah,” she answers. “We should go.”

They wind up in another hotel with two six-packs of Logan’s favorite beer, and everything feels– off. Wrong. The silence is thick and there’s a thread of tension between them that hadn’t been there before.

Logan realizes he’s singlehandedly destroying the first good thing he’s had in forty years.

Fuck.

 —————

He has a plan. Get to Canada, get her somewhere safe, and then leave.

That doesn’t happen.

  —————

 The truck finally gives out in a tiny town called Paradise, on the very edge of Lake Huron.

It would be funny, he thinks, almost like fate, if he even believed in that sort of thing.

“Engine’s all overheated,” the mechanic explains, poking at a half-melted length of rubber piping. “See this? Coolant’s supposed to go through here, but it’s all fucked.”

Logan grits his teeth and crosses his arms and digs his nails into his palms with an unnecessary amount of violence. “Can you fix it?”

The mechanic runs grease-stained fingers through his hair and nods. “Yeah, I mean, next week , not, y’know, today.”

He babbles on about the shop missing the parts or some other bullshit, because apparently they don’t get much business in fucking-nowhere, Michigan– big surprise– and then he directs Logan and the girl to a small hotel by the shoreline that’s mostly empty, where they’ll apparently have to stay until the parts come in on Monday.

He checks in at the front desk and gets the keys from a sweet old lady who asks too many questions. Their room is small, and overly-decorated, with ocean-themed throw pillows scattered across a matching set of armchairs and a handful of seashell windchimes hanging out by the screened-in porch. It’s a nice place, better than where they’d been forced to stay before, but Logan doesn’t care. He just throws his bags onto a quilted starfish-patterned bedspread and collapses on top of it with a long, drawn-out sigh.

The girl is standing in the doorway, watching him.

“You okay?” she asks softly.

Logan grunts in affirmative and closes his eyes. He hears footsteps, steady and quiet against the plush carpet, and then a hand brushes across his forehead and it’s fucking ridiculous how quickly his pulse stutters and how sharp his sudden intake of breath sounds in his ears.

“No fever,” she says.

“‘s just the adamantium,” he grunts, except it isn’t.

She looks at him, and it’s suddenly so easy– too easy– for him to be angry. Irritated that when he looks back at her he can’t get a read on her, or her mood, or her intentions, can’t quite tell what she’s thinking.

He sits up, suddenly feeling suffocated. He’s tired of this– tired of fighting her and himself and tired of never being sure whether he’s winning or losing or just wasting time. Nothing makes sense anymore. It feels like he’s been knocked off-balance, like for some reason his center of gravity has shifted just enough to make his world spin around him and the only fucking thing he’s certain of anymore is his own denial. He’s never been good at confronting his emotions.

Logan stands up.

“I’m going out,” he says, tone clipped and short.

She doesn’t stop him.

Logan didn’t really expect her to.

  —————

She finds him a little over an hour later. It’s dusk– the sun has slipped down over the horizon, but there’s still just enough lingering light to give everything a soft, surreal sort of glow.

Logan’s clothes and shoes are stacked in a sandy heap up on the shoreline and he’s waded into the lake up to his waist, watching the fractured patterns of silver moonlight flicker over the surface, dizzyingly bright against the dark water.

“Hey.”

He says nothing. Her gaze moves slowly over the planes of his upper body–the scars and the burn marks and the bullet holes that never really healed right– and the expression on her face is something he only distantly recognizes. Their eyes meet, and she searches his face, studying him, and Logan can see the precise moment when she realizes, pieces together his evasion tactics and his silence and his jealousy and his perpetual anger–

Her expression softens.

She pulls her tank top up over her head in one slow, languid movement. Discards her shorts. Wades into the lake until she’s standing beside him, gentle waves lapping at her stomach. She skims her hands over the water, gently, lightly, never quite breaking the surface, and Logan watches with a sharp sort of intensity.

The tension feels different, tonight. It’s softer, but it’s also become that much harder to avoid.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he says in a gravelly whisper, before he can even think of stopping himself. His laugh is half bewildered and half angry, because he’s always, always angry. “You never fuckin’ know what you’re doing.”

She moves towards him. There’s the soft, lingering glide of her bare, wet skin against his as she traces the lines of the puckered, waxy scar he’d gotten on his left arm when he saved her life, and there’s the miniscule amount of space between them, hot and thick like the air inside of his shitty truck had been for the week since the AC blew out. None of this is new, not really, but it still feels different, this time.

“If I–” she pauses, swallows, and her pupils are dilated and nearly eclipsing her irises and Logan feels a sudden tightness in his gut, feels heat, feels anticipation and longing and a lot of fucking things, really, things he probably shouldn’t be feeling but feels anyway.

“If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

He stares at her.

(He hadn’t been expecting that. He should’ve, though. She’s never been one for subtlety.)

The effect it has on him is instant. It’s like being doused in cold water. The fire pooling in his stomach fizzles and dies and is abruptly replaced by the thousands of reasons why he can’t and shouldn’t and won’t. It isn’t fair. It isn’t right. He can’t just come waltzing into her fucking life and take a space that she should be saving for somebody else. For anyone else, really, for somebody who’s safer and kinder and better than him.

“(Name),” he warns, sharply. Abruptly.

End of conversation.

It isn’t really the end of it, though. She’s too fucking stubborn.

“Logan,” she retorts, moving closer. She reaches out to touch him again and he grabs her wrists before she can and fuck, he thinks, she’s looking at him like she already knows how he’ll react to everything that she’s saying and everything that she’s doing and he can’t help but wonder what the hell he’s managed to get himself into.

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, hoarsely.

She doesn’t say anything. He can hear the gentle sound of the waves lapping up against them, the strange silence of the surrounding shoreline, can feel his own heartbeat perilously, traitorously loud inside his ribcage.

She’s waiting for him, he realizes. He’s waiting for him.

“Fuck,” he says.

He lets go of her wrists, registers her hands against his bare chest, warm and soft, and then he’s reaching out, cupping her face, tipping her chin up.

She moves up to meet him.

He kisses her slowly. Gently. His hands are shaking and she has her arms wrapped loosely around his neck and her body is pressed against his like it belongs there.

It’s easy. It’s so fucking easy. Weeks of constant tension dissolve like mist in the sunlight.

She’s the one who ends it.

“I’m going back to the hotel room,” she whispers, breath warm where his neck meets his shoulder. “Come with me?”

He breathes out, exhale shallow and shaky, but his eyes are steady on hers. Focused.

By the time they get back to the hotel, it’s dark, but that doesn’t matter.

The door closes with a soft click of rubber insulation against wood, and Logan looks at her, really looks at her, eyes roaming over her legs and her hips and her chest and her mouth, all the places he hadn’t allowed himself to notice until now.

The distance between them closes much more easily, much more quickly, this time.

“Never thought we’d do this,” he murmurs, and then corrects himself, “Never thought you’d want me to.”

Her laugh is soft. Disbelieving. She meets his eyes and leans up towards him and whispers, “That’s because you’re stupid”, and the words dissolve into his mouth as she kisses him– or maybe he kisses her, or maybe a little of both. It doesn’t matter, anyway, and Logan doesn’t care.

He frames her face with his hands and slants his mouth over hers and deepens the kiss, his tongue parting her lips and pushing in and scraping over her teeth, across the roof of her mouth– she tastes exactly how he imagined, exactly how he’d dreamed she would, sweet like chapstick and strawberries and so fucking perfect that for a moment he’s left wondering if this is even real. His hand is moving down from her face to the curve of her waist, fingers digging in, and he’s urging her closer until her body is pressed up so close to his that he can feel her heartbeat against his chest, the rapid rise-and-fall of her breathing as he keeps kissing her. Her hand wraps around the back of his neck and her teeth scrape over his bottom lip, half-smiling against his mouth when he makes a sound almost like a growl and kneads her hips, yanking her closer, moving one hand up under her half-damp tank top. Her skin is soft and warm under his calloused hands and fuck when he drags his thumb across her nipple through the sheer fabric of her bra she makes a noise like a sigh, or maybe a moan, shallow and soft, and rakes her nails down his arms–

It’s still not good enough.

He wants to touch her everywhere.

Logan yanks her tank top off, fabric clinging stubbornly to her still-wet skin, and then he fumbles with the clasp of her bra for a moment before discarding that, too. She’s beautiful, and he had known that, but it’s not the same– not when it’s like this, when he can so easily reach out and touch, and maybe he stares for a second or more than a second–

“Jesus,” he whispers, a little more frantic than intended, and almost immediately his mouth descends over the soft column of her throat and then down to her collarbones, her breasts, kissing every inch of skin he can reach with a sort of reverence he hadn’t known he was capable of. She leans into the feeling of his mouth, gasps out his name in a breathless, needy way that hits him hard, makes his cock ache in the rough confines of his boxers as he sucks a bruise into her skin where her shoulder meets her neck– half because he wants to and half because it’s proof that this is real.

In the back of his mind, he thinks of all the ways he could talk himself out of this, all the countless reasons why he shouldn’t let this get any worse or any more permanent, but he finds that he doesn’t care. She kisses him and he tugs her closer, a low groan vibrating somewhere in his throat at how effortlessly her body fits against his.

She’s the one who pulls him towards the bed.

“Come on, Logan,” she says, and it’s probably supposed to sound teasing, sarcastic, defiant, even, but mostly it just sounds breathless. There’s a bruise blossoming on her neck and her mouth is swollen and red, and Logan stops and stares and the only thing he can think is I did that, I did that to her, I kissed her–

“Fuck,” he bites out, the noise low and unsurprisingly aggressive.

He hears the rustle of the comforter against the mattress as she moves onto it, and he follows, wrenches his shirt up over his head and tosses it to the floor and then easily pushes her legs apart to take the space between them. Her nails dig  into his shoulders, not enough to really hurt, and she drags him down into another kiss, the movement of her mouth against his mirroring the slow, languid roll of her hips–

“Get your clothes off, c’mon,” he mutters, half pleading, biting her bottom lip just hard enough to make her gasp against his mouth and relishing in how she reacts to him, honest and real in a way he hadn’t expected.

Her shorts are off before he even has time to think about what he’s doing, and then her underwear, too, joining his shirt in a messy, haphazard pile of clothing on the floor, and he’s looking at her and she’s staring right back and the sudden rush of vulnerability he feels is almost enough to make him wonder if this was a mistake. It’s fucking stupid, he thinks, because he’s still got half his goddamn clothes on, why does he feel so exposed ?

But–

Still.

His breathing is ragged. His pulse is thundering. The air is thick with something that feels like static electricity, sharp and heavy, like in the moments before a storm. His eyes rake up her body almost of their own volition, taking in the swell of her breasts and the curve of her stomach and then trailing down, down–

“Logan,” she mutters, squirming under the heat of his gaze, and any hint of defiance is gone at this point, replaced by pent-up, repressed longing, and it suddenly clicks that this entire fucking thing had never been one-sided. It had never just been him, she had watched and waited and wanted him too, and–

“(Name),” he rasps, not sure if he had even meant to say it out loud, and then he’s undoing his belt and fumbling with the button on his jeans, discarding his clothes in a bundle and closing the space between them with a newfound desperation.

She leans up and meets him halfway, and the kiss is frantic and messy and perfect. His weight pins her down to the bed and his desire is all-consuming, white-hot in the pit of his stomach as she rocks up against him, the friction making him groan. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s wanted something this badly, and the feeling of her bare skin is like a fucking drug. His hand slips down her stomach, moves in between her thighs, and she’s wet, fuck, his fingers are slick against her skin and when he touches her she chokes out a soft, trembling moan, and he realizes distantly that he’s so fucking hard it hurts–

“Logan,” she whispers, a little desperately, rocking her hips up into his hand, looking for friction, and his breath just fucking falters, shit, the arm supporting his weight on the bed is trembling and he can’t think of anything he wants more in this moment than her.

“Jesus,” he groans, pressing a finger inside of her and curling it up, and her answering moan is needy and helpless and when he starts to fuck her with his fingers she fucking melts underneath him in the best way–

“Stop fucking– teasing,” she says, trying to sound irritated but failing miserably as her voice wavers and dissolves into a moan.

Logan exhales shakily. He stops touching her.

They’re both aware of it, he knows, his cock pressed up against the inside of her thigh, hot and hard and insistent, and then she rocks her hips up against him and he groans, the sound frantic, desperate, dragging her into a kiss–

He thrusts into her in one fluid motion.

“Ah– fuck,” he groans, against her open, waiting mouth, eyes closed and face tense and the muscles in his arms and upper back strung taut, tense with the effort of holding himself still.

There’s a moment of silence– a moment of stillness– that’s strangely intimate, warm and familiar and right, his breathing ragged and unsteady against her neck as he struggles to hold on to the quickly-fading remains of his self-control.

Logan moves slowly.

Her answering moan is soft and the warmth of their combined body heat is heady and suffocating–sweat beads on his forehead and her breath ghosts hot across his collarbones as he moves and as she rolls her hips up to meet him. His forehead is pressed against hers and their noses are bumping as he kisses her, open-mouthed and messy, catching her gasp and his answering groan as she tightens around him, hot and wet and perfect. The way she drags her palms down his chest and across the wide expanse of his shoulders is desperate, almost like she’s looking for something to hold on to as he thrusts in a little harder, watches, seemingly entranced, as his cock moves, in down to the base until their hips are pressed together and then back again.

Logan ,” she moans, biting into the tight, sinewy curve of his shoulder just enough to make him groan, and make his rhythm stutter, and make his hips snap forward hard, and whatever he was going to say in response is replaced with a desperate, needy growl at the way she moans with the rock of his body. A shiver trembles down her spine, liquid and involuntary, and he can feel the way her muscles tighten around his cock, can hear the creaking of the bedsprings and the sharp, ragged sounds of his own breathing and nothing else really seems to matter except what’s happening right then. He doesn’t care about the past, or the future, or anything except the way she melts when he kisses her and how she arches her hips to meet his and moans into his mouth at the feeling, simultaneously overwhelmed and wanting more–

He snaps his hips forwards and he watches her tremble, watches her mouth part for a gasp and how she never stops looking at him, not even for a second. Her eyes are bright, clear and warm, and Logan wonders if she’s always looked at him like that, if maybe he just never noticed.

“I– fuck, fuck, I’m–” she gasps, tripping over the words, a little desperate and a lot frantic as she grinds up against him, one hand tangled in his hair and the other somewhere on the expanse of his shoulder, reaching for purchase, something to hold on to–

He’s acutely aware of her body pressed up against his own, slick with sweat and incredibly fucking warm, her face buried in his shoulder and her breath hot against his skin and her body soft and pliant and perfect underneath him. Everything about this is driving him fucking crazy and he’s wanted it for so long that it’s hard to focus, that everything else is a colorless, meaningless blur in the background and all he can see is her, back arching and muscles tensing and calling out his name as she comes.

And it’s fucking beautiful, and perfect, and exactly how he imagined while also being so much better. She trembles and tightens around him in the most delicious way and the moan she releases is wonderfully helpless and whatever remaining scraps of decorum he had left just fucking dissolve. His thrusts become erratic, his rhythm falters and he realizes, distantly, that he’s not going to last much longer as she rocks against him until he can barely think straight.

“(Name),” he mutters, and chokes out a curse, buries his face in her shoulder and relishes in it, in the closeness and the shared body heat and the feeling of being here, with her, like this, until his body falters and his weight comes down onto his forearms and his orgasm is wrenched through him like a fucking revelation.

And then it’s over.

He doesn’t move for a long moment. She doesn’t make him. Nothing seems to matter anymore except the warmth of where their bodies are still joined, the sound of their combined breathing, and the ache of the emotions they had unleashed on one another. It’s a brief moment of peace for him, and he thinks she must feel the same.

“You can get off of me now,” she complains, softly. Breathlessly. Logan huffs out a laugh, deep and warm, and moves away. He hesitates, only for a second, before pulling her to his bare chest with his hand curled over her hip.

The silence isn’t as suffocating as he’d expected. It’s almost– comfortable.

“Dumbass,” she says. There’s an honest sort of affection in her voice, as she throws an arm over his chest and buries her face in the crook of his neck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, sleepy and sated and not really meaning it at all.

  —————

He goes up to Canada. Brings her back to a house he hasn’t been to in years, nestled comfortably in the mountains under the shade of a forest of pine trees. The last time he was here, he was still mostly human; no adamantium. Just bone. The house is empty, but he still owns it, technically.

The first thing she asks him after getting unpacked is if he’s going to stay. He expected the question, but answering it is still hard, the word catching somewhere in his throat just below his voice box.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I think so.”

evan hansen x reader headcanons

evan hansen x reader who meet in a coffee shop

requested: no lol

word count: 1255 (I’m so extra)


  • You had free periods last most of the time so you started working at a coffee shop after school to help out a bit with college funds
  • You were basically on autopilot taking orders and making drinks as all the teens poured into the closest coffee shop from school so you didn’t even notice poor evan trying to get your attention
  • “Um hi i’m evan but sorry, you probably already know that, because we go to the same school and you’re y/n and you’re in my math, english, and french classes but sorry, i just realized that that sounded like i’m stalking you and i’m so sorry i’m not i swear it’s not like i just creepily sit around and calculate how much time i spend with you each day that would be so weird i’m sorry”
  • ‘Don’t worry about it, evan! What can i get for you?”
  • ‘Oh well i’ld like a hot chocolate but there’s so many people from school here and they’d think i was so stupid and immature if i got one so could you maybe say it was something else that sounds better? Sorry that’s so weird i’m asking you to lie that’s so awful i’m so sorry’
  • you were just overcome with giggles because how cute can you get? He was shifting his weight back and forth and steadily gazing at the clock on the wall behind you to avoid having to look at you
  • but then evan got even more nervous (if that’s even possible) from your giggling and was like ‘oh god i just ruined this, i have no chance with them, i should just leave’
  • And he was turning around when you realized what was going on and obv started reassuring him that it was fine and no problem
  • He had spent so long working up the courage to talk to you and ordering that by the time his hot chocolate was ready there wasn’t even anybody left in the store lol
  • So you went over and sat with him while he drank it
  • And poor baby evan was just out of his mind because there’s a cute person who i really like??? Sitting across from me??? And trying to talk to mE????
  • so he could barely pay attention to what you were saying bc he was busy marveling over how pretty you were and how nice you’d been to him
  • and you’d just asked him how heidi was doing, and if you could get him a muffin to give to her bc she stopped by to see you on her way home from the hospital all the time
  • But instead he just blurted out ‘do you wanna come home for dinner? Mom’s supposed to get off early today? Not as like a date bc that’s ridiculous right?? Oh no, not like that i’ld love to go on a date with you! You’re so pretty and nice and smart and i’m just me? And oh god that seems like i’m some creepy guy hitting on you i’m so sorry i just made it awkward didn’t i? I’m so sorry i messed this all up i’m just going to leave now sorry”
  • And he starts to run away from you for the second time that poor boy
  • But then you kiss his cheek and say that you’ld love to go to his house for dinner on a date as soon as your shift is over
  • And he goes bright red and starts stuttering because he really wasn’t expecting this and he had no idea what to do other than stand there and blush with the biggest smile ever
  • And so he waits with you and tries to make awkward conversation till your replacement comes and then you drive both of you back to his house
  • And when you get there he tries to unlock the door at least four times but keeps dropping the key or turning it the wrong way because he’s so nervous
  • And once you finally get in the house he’s so nervous about where you guys should go to wait for heidi
  • ‘We could stay down here or we could go up to my room but that’s so weird and it sounds like i’m trying to have sex with you i’m so sorry’
  • You end up going to his room and he has all these posters of different types of trees and flowers hanging up and he goes on and on about how amazing and beautiful they are and you just listen in awe because he’s not stuttering or panicked at all and he’s just so cute??? How????
  • but he thinks you’re being quiet because you don’t actually want to spend time with him and you’re just doing it out of pity so he stops talking all of a sudden and notices that you’re staring at him and suddenly thinks he has something on his face
  • ‘do i have something on my face this is so embarrassing i’m so sorry that’s so gross i’m sorry’
  • and then you tell him it’s because he’s just so cute when he’s passionate about things and he goes bright red again
  • but manages to choke out ‘you’re kinda,, you know,,,, cute all the time’
  • And suddenly your’re blushing too because that’s the most forward evan’s been
  • so you ask him if you can kiss him and he gives you this really shy, hesitant knod
  • and you lean in and kiss him really softly and gently on the lips
  • and the kiss is just so pure and sweet and poor evan is just in heaven?? like you pull away and his eyes are still closed bc that was his first kiss and it was so perfect???
  • but decides he really likes kissing you so he goes in for another one
  • and this time it’s longer but it’s still just the softest, gentlest thing you’ve ever felt because tbh this boy is just an adorable baby kitten
  • And it’s just kinda getting a bit heated when heidi walks into his room bc you two were so caught up in each other that you didn’t notice her getting home or knocking on evan’s door
  • And poor evan just blushes so red and heidi’s so shocked bc evan never brings any friends home let alone a date???
  • but she recovers and gets very awkwardly re-introduced to you by evan and you giver her the muffin and life goes on except for poor baby evan who’s still so embarrassed
  • but she leaves after asking what kind of pizza you guys want (and telling evan to use protection which makes him turn more red if that’s possible)
  • and evan starts frantically apologizing and working himself up so you just kiss his cheek and hold his hand and reassure him
  • And when he finally calms down he gets really shy so you kinda gently nudge his shoulder and ask him if he wants to be your boyfriends
  • And evan’s just so elated he can’t stop saying yes and he just launches himself into your arms and starts kissing you bc he’s had a crush on you for like two years and he can’t believe you like him back
  • And ofc he’s such a gentleman and he apologizes right after for not asking you first and starts to shrink back into himself but you promise him you liked it very very much and that he can kiss you like that whenever he wants
  • He turns red again lol poor boy

people I’m gonna tag bc they got me into this whole fanfic writing mess (I hope you don’t mind this and that I remembered everyone) (also sorry I can’t figure out how to move the read more thing up):

@earlyjunes @sincerlyyme @daveyjacobss @reprisedpiece @let-the-world-pass-by @indigo-streaks-in-her-hair @secretschuylersister @manuelmiranduh @diggs4life @alexanderhamllton @linsnavi @bi-as-july-4th @tempfixeliza @hamimagines

c-3pno’s Uncharted Content Masterpost!

 Hey everyone! After doing some maintenance on my blog, I decided to make a masterpost of everything that I’ve made pertaining to the Uncharted fandom. This includes all of my fics, drabbles, and taunt videos! I hope this helps make the content a little easier to find! 

Fanfictions

Only The Good Die Young (Sam Drake x Reader)

Chapter 1: The Confrontation

Chapter 2: The Orphanage

Chapter 3: The Boy

Chapter 4: The Girl

Chapter 5: The Fair

Chapter 6: The Job

Chapter 7: The Storm

Chapter 8: The Accident

Chapter 9: The Reunion

Chapter 10: The Meantime

Wanted (Sam Drake x Reader)

Chapter 1: Where Did It All Go Wrong?

Chapter 2: I Will Follow

Chapter 3: Stuck In A Moment You Can’t Get Out Of

Chapter 4: Mysterious Ways

Chapter 5: Two Hearts Beat As One

Chapter 6: I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For

Chapter 7: With or Without You

Marooned (Sam Drake x Reader)

Bed Time Story (Sam Drake x Reader)

Though I Die (Sam Drake x Reader)

Always Have, Always Will (Sam Drake x Reader)

Crossing Paths (Sam Drake x Reader)

Remember… (Rafe Adler x Reader) [Drabble Trade!]

Imagine… (Sam Drake vs Nathan Drake) [Post Inspired]

Let You Heart Hold Fast (Teen Sam x Reader) 

Surrender (Sam Drake x Reader) [AU]


Drabbles

(Drabbles are going to be sorted by the prompts and characters they feature.)

Sam Drake

“I’m going for a swim. Care to join me?”

“Looks like we’ll be trapped here for awhile.”

“I think we need to talk.” & “Don’t you ever do that again!”

“Please, don’t leave.” & “Don’t you ever do that again!”

“Well this is awkward.” & “Looks like we’ll be trapped here for awhile.” & “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” & “It’s not what it looks like!”

“Hey, have you seen the… Oh.” & “Well, this is awkward.”

“You lied to me.”

“Hey! I was going to eat that!” & “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

“Tell me a secret.” & “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” (Teen Sam)

“Well, this is awkward.”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.” & “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you just crack a smile for me?”

“You did what?”

“I think we need to talk.” & “You did what?”

“Come over here and make me.”

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” 

“Please, don’t leave.”

Jealous Sam

“Who climbs through someones window at 4 A.M. to get ice cream?” (Teen Sam)

Rafe Adler

“I need you to pretend we’re dating.” & “Kiss me, quick!”

“Looks like we’ll be trapped here for awhile.”

“Hey, have you seen the… Oh.” & “No one needs to know.”

“Come over here and make me.” & “Wanna bet?” & “Kiss me.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Hey, have you seen the…Oh.” & “Boo.” & “No one needs to know.”

Nathan Drake

“Kiss me, quick!”

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”


Taunt Videos

Never Gonna Give You Up

Take On Me

Crazy Train

Footloose

Don’t Stop Me Now

Dancing With Myself

Shout

Club Can’t Handle Me

Timber

YMCA

Cotton Eyed Joe

What Is Love?

Ready To Go [Get Me Out Of My Mind]

Boys Are Back In Town

Starships

Soul Man (Blues Brothers)

I Gotta Feelin’

This Is How To Be A Heartbreaker

It’s Not Unusual

Uma Thurman

2

“I’ve studied all the planetary scans. I’ve even had some hands-on experience with Heleus soil samples.”

The Neighbors : Masterlist

Summary: You’ve been in New York for about 3 years now moving here looking for a new experience. Your life in New York has been great, but will it stay that way once you meet your new neighbors across the hall?

Warnings : swearing, bad flirting,

{complete!} Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader,  Steve Rogers x Reader

The New Neighbors

Meeting Steve

The PJ Party

A Night Out With The Boys

Sleepovers & Forts

An Unwelcomed Visitor

The Confrontation

The Invitation

How To (Attempt To) Save A Life

Home Sweet Home

Confessions & Endings

Epilogue: Fast Forward

Originally posted by hopeinloveinfinity

Touch

Requested by: Anonymous
(Here are the specifics)

Pairing: Reader x Bucky
Word Count: 2.3K
Warnings: Swearing, fluff

A/N: Reader is blind

Y/E/C: Your Eye Colour

~~Bucky’s POV~~

“Buck!” Steve exclaims as Bucky wanders out of the elevator,

“Hey pal,” Bucky mumbles, his attention being drawn to his surroundings. Bucky had never seen anything like Stark Tower, it was just another prime example of Tony’s endless budget,

“Glad to have you back,” Steve grins at Bucky and pulls him into a tight hug, “How was the flight?”

“Fine,” Bucky finally focuses on his best friend, and is stopped in his tracks when he notices Clint, Nat, Sam, Vision and Tony standing a few feet behind,

“What did T’Challa’s people say?” Tony asks as he tentatively steps forward. Bucky tenses as Tony continues to approach, looking apprehensive,

“Um,” Bucky shakes off the nerves and tries to remember Tony’s question, “They said that I’m still fine. The triggers are still inactive, and I shouldn’t need to go for anymore check ups unless something happens,”

Keep reading

whenever i think of you, i touch my shelf

pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin

wc: 3.2k

genre: bookstore!au, fluff with a dash of humor and pining

summary: jungkook embarrasses himself with a Freudian slip when he first tries to talk to the cute bookstore employee with the fairy pink hair he has a huge, not-so-obvious (super obvious) crush on. 

a/n: so.. like.. i decided to write something fluffy and lighthearted to take a break from all the angst i’m preparing celebrate a very Teeny Tiny milestone bcus i’m happy that ppl actually like my trivial blog enough to follow me;; whether it’s for my writing or for just my awful tags or smth else hehe,, so thank u!!! and i hope everyone likes it ⸜₍๑•⌔•๑ ₎⸝ 💓✨



Jungkook slowly peeks out from behind the timber bookshelf, brain buzzing like static on a television that has lost signal. Despite the quietude of the campus bookstore and the peacefulness the early morning had brought to its atmosphere, the brilliant sun cascading its rays through the vitreous windowpanes, all Jungkook can hear was the sound of his heart beating rapidly against his chest like the variegated wings of a humming bird restless in the air once he catches sight of the boy with the fairy pink hair sitting at one of the rotund tables - reading at his usual seat during his breaks. 

There’s a new book in his hands this time and ever since Jungkook noticed that the cute boy (to which Jungkook had discovered his name was Jimin, as read from his name tag) had finished Murakami’s grueling novel 1Q84 that consisted of 1,157 pages in merely four days, Jungkook deduced that he was an impressively fast reader, but it’s not like Jungkook always watched him or anything and kept tabs on what he was reading all the time and had maybe memorized his schedule. Pfft, no - that’s just creepy and Jungkook is not creepy.

“Jungkook, you’re being creepy,” A husky voice whispers behind him. Cheeks flushing, Jungkook turns around to find Taehyung watching him in wry amusement, an eyebrow quirked. 

Keep reading

Erik reads fast

“I reached box five early in the morning, well before anyone was around. There was a long uncomfortable wait ahead of me inside that hollow pillar, and since I was not eager to take up my position there a moment before it was necessary, I sat back among the shadows and read Madame Bovary and Salammbô. They say that Flaubert became a recluse in order to write; I found that interesting… Two hours later, having finished both novels, I turned in boredom to study last night’s program, which had been dutifully left on the little shelf for my perusal by my worthy Madame Giry. “ 

/Erik from Susan Kay’s Phantom/ 

Really, my dear OG? Wow! You Monsieur, frighten me a bit. I don’t think I am a slow reader (not too fast, but faster than majority of people I know), and it took me 2 days to finish Gaston Leroux’s Phantom of the Opera. That book is a bit more than 300 pages long in Hungarian, and it was the first book I literally couldn’t put down so I read it the whole day both days. But even like this it took me 2 days to finish it so I roughly read 150 pages a day. And you read two books in 2 hours. *faints*

reallyuglylatina  asked:

Could you do like pros and cons of dating each member? Ty!💜

How dating BTS would be like

+ = pros

- = cons

Rapmonster (Namjoon):

  • + there would be a lot of coffee shop dates and going to the library once or twice a week
  • + he would do everything to understand you and make you happy
  • + he would help you study for your exams or tests at school when you don’t understand something (that means you have good grades) 
  • + watching movies late at night 
  • + he would always show his dimples whenever you’ll feel down because those dimples are like heaven lol 
  • + he always would put an arm around your shoulder or waist whenever you two would walk on the streets 
  • + you two would do weird dances together because of the fantastic dancing machines you are
  • + he would be smiley and cuddly after a long tour or a long time of no seeing each other + would write songs about you 
  • - I don’t think there would be cons in your relationship because he always is correct and Joonie never does something wrong however he’s very calm so during a fight you wouldn’t know if he’s mad or not so that will angers you more   

Originally posted by yngissi

Jin (Seokjin): 

  • + breakfast in bed everyday 
  • + lots of cooking together especially during the weekend 
  • + he would take care of you like a mother because your health and happiness are really important 
  • + a lot of dad jokes
  • + you would always lay your head on his shoulder whenever you two would be watching a movie in the evening 
  • + I think Jin is someone who likes to go to a sauna or maybe a swimming pool so there is a lot of fun! 
  • + he would always send you kisses while texting because he’s so cheesy >_<

Originally posted by bwiseoks

 Suga(Yoongi): 

  • + a lot of cuddles 
  • + he would write a million songs just for you 
  • + he would learn you how to play the piano if you want 
  • + a lot of dates at home 
  • + he would always listen to you 
  • + lazy sunday mornings in each other embraces 
  • + he would love to kiss your nose here and there 
  • + he may have a cold expression but he surely has a soft heart so adopting a cat wouldn’t bother him 
  • + you’re always welcome in his studio 
  • - he doesn’t know how to express his feelings well so it would be difficult to understand how he truly feels 
  • - I think Yoongi has a bad temper (but I’m not sure) 
  • - He’s really busy with his work so he wouldn’t always have time for you

Originally posted by jeonbase

Jhope (Hoseok): 

  • + he’s really active 
  • + he would always be the first one to suggest to go on a date 
  • + hugs you from behind when you’re cooking 
  • + he would make time for you even if he has a busy shedule just to make sure that you know how much he loves you 
  • + he is a ball of sunshine so it’s always positif between you two 
  • + He would learn you how to dance whenever you have time 
  • + “English timeu wif Hobi and Y/N” 
  • + A lot of park dates 
  • + he would text you everyday 
  • - he sometimes has too much energy 

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Jimin: 

  • + kisses and hugs 
  • + he lets you play with his small hands 
  • + his parents loves you because of making their son the happiest man on Earth 
  • + dates everywhere 
  • + he only would do things you’re comfortable with 
  • + he always makes sure you eat and sleep enough 
  • + he’s a shy mochi 
  • + he likes to brush your hair 
  • + he would like it when you come to the dance practice to see him 
  • + he would buy you as many cupcakes as you want 
  • + he would film himself during practice or on his tour and send the videos to you 
  • + your happiness is also his happiness 
  • + he sleeps over whenever you’re scared 
  • + he would take you to Busan and show you his favorite places 
  • - Jimin has sometimes complexes so you have to make sure he’s comfortable in his skin 
  • - He’s really busy, just like the other boys 

Originally posted by nnochu

V (Taehyung): 

  • + kisses your whole face 24/7 
  • + hugs you and never wants to let you go 
  • + he likes to go to the cinema with you 
  • + a lot of nicknames 
  • + having you in his embrace is enough to make him smile widely 
  • + he sometimes would show up at your door with a flower in his hand “a beautiful flower for a beautiful girl” 
  • + he randomly would sing songs and make you dance with him 
  • + he would like to adopt a puppy with you and call it his and your child 
  • I don’t think there are negative things in your relationship except his busy shedule

Originally posted by sgfgdolans

 Jungkook: 

  • + playing games everyday 
  • + eating pizza everyday (because both of of you are too lazy) 
  • + hugs you everyday 
  • + he loves to pick you up and spin you around 
  • + sending derp selfies to each other 
  • + he would sing you a lullaby before going to sleep 
  • + stare contests between you two 
  • + he’s protective but not too much 
  • + you find his Busan accent sexy so always talks to you in that accent 
  • + you’re the only one (besides bts) who can see his abs *wiggles eyebrows* 
  • - he’s really shy at first so you have to make sure he’s comfortable around you
  •  - he always forgets to text you back

Originally posted by jjks

I’m sorry for the long wait and thanks for the request!<3

all gifs are not mine

anonymous asked:

reborn yamamoto and xanxus getting rescued by innocent civillian and falling in love thank you!!!

COMPLETE

~I… did my best? Sorry about the length… I got a bit too carried away. (-_-;)~

admin adelheid

Reborn

There was just something about the way he looked slumped up and sitting against that alley wall that caught at your heartstrings as you were passing by. You had initially been led to that alley by a box of kittens you had seen earlier on your way to work. This time, though, you had a bottle of milk with you along with a small shallow bowl you had snuck out of the cafeteria during lunch. You can now feed them in peace and comfort. You just wish your apartment allowed pets so you could take them home.

You were looking for the kittens and found them playing all over the dark suited man with the old fashioned hat; a sight that was definitely not there earlier. Your personal experience with drunks told you he was not drunk. He looked far too troubled to be drunk. You came closer and one of the kittens went up to greet you. You gasped when you saw the blood on its fur.  Common sense led you to the conclusion that the man in the fedora was the one bleeding to death.

Scared, you helped him. Putting his arm over your shoulder and started helping him up, your brain trying to figure out what you should do. You thought about taking him to the hospital but then you felt something hard press against your side from his and when you investigated you found he had a gun on him.

After a slight mental meltdown of (“Oh my God, oh my God, he’s got a gun, please Lord don’t let him kill me, I’m going to go to jail!”) you decide to take him home and play doctor using Google searches and Youtube videos to stop the bleeding and stitch him up because, dammit, you can’t just leave him there to die. Just the thought of him lying here dying would never let you sleep again!

You stayed by his side until he woke up. And as you waited for him to open his eyes again you couldn’t help but notice that this was a beautiful man. But there was something broken about the expression on his face even in his sleep and somehow you couldn’t help but feel pity for him. This man was… not whole.

When he first opened his eyes your initial relief froze when he glared at you and somehow, you just knew he would have pointed a gun at your head had he been able to move or if you didn’t move the gun out of his reach. As it was you wondered if this was what small animals felt when snakes cornered them and gave them a death stare.

“Where am I?”

“My apartment,” you admitted wondering if you made a mistake taking him home. “I noticed the gun and… I didn’t think you’d want me to take you to a hospital with it on you.”

His brows furrowed even deeper. “How do you know I’m not just some drunkard who thinks it’s comfortable to sit in a dark, abandoned alley and wallow in his own misery?”

“You didn’t look like that kind of drunk.”

He raised a condescending brow at you and made you blush. “How would you know that?”

“Trust me, my dad was a mean drunk, Mister. If you’re the kind of drunk who likes to lie in dirty places then you wouldn’t have looked so… bothered.” The certainty in your voice made the hitman look up at you in surprise and a little amusement. “Besides, drunkards who wear suits like yours don’t find it comfortable to sit around in an alley like that. They usually have someone pick them up in a limo and take them to some five star hotel or ditch them at some fancy condo unit so they can roll around naked in their money. I’ve worked housekeeping in enough hotels to know how it is.”

Reborn sneered. “Thanks for the awesome deduction, Nancy Drew.”

The snark and the thought of him reading a childhood favorite of yours had you grinning at him, your fear melting away. If he knew about Nancy then surely he couldn’t be that bad. Right? “Your welcome, Hardy Boy.”

Your wit surprised a chuckle out of him. Which he regretted as pain shot up from his back and into his spine.

“Are you in pain?” You asked in concern as you stood up. “Gimme a sec, let me get you some pain meds.”

Reborn shot you an empty glare full of contempt and condescension. His next words hit you like a brick in the face. “You should have let me die.”

Your jaw dropped open in shock at the words out of this beautiful man’s mouth. It was a while before you even managed to form a thought. “Look. I don’t know what happened to you out there but surely someone somewhere would be happy you’re still alive.”

“No one’s probably even going to notice.”

“Parents?”

“Can’t remember?”

“Wife?”

“Not married.”

“Kids?”

“Don’t have any.”

You bit your lip because you were feeling ridiculous and can’t help but feel you were being too nosy now. “Lover?”

He gave you an arrogant smirk. “Yeah. My exes would miss me but they’ll get over it. They always do.”

You threw your hands in the air and gave up. “Well, I got nothing. Guess now I know why you wanted to die so badly, Hardy Boy. Do me a favor, though? Can you like, die somewhere else after you’re well enough to walk? I’m not particularly experienced with having to dispose of dead bodies.”

Again he snorted in surprised laughter and again he regretted it. “Why can’t I move?”

“You’ve lost too much blood by the time I found you. Gimme a minute, I’ll get you something to eat along with those pain meds.”

As you fed and dressed his wounds Reborn eyed you warily, expecting more questions about the past and selfishly satisfying your curiosity. Instead, though, you amused him with your quips and teased him about being grumpy. It was as though you were absolutely determined not to be affected by his depression and for some reason this annoyed Reborn. With typical Reborn logic, that had annoyed the Vongola Decimo when he was younger, he thought that if he was miserable, everybody else should be miserable with him.

But your good cheer was like a force of nature in and of itself. He didn’t think anything could have brought down his iron will but you proved him wrong in the few days you had seen to his care.

While you were out at work, he tried walking around to find something else to read. You owned a few and the book you gave him was surprisingly something he liked but he had always been a fast reader and he was finished in a couple of hours with it. He discovered a letter hidden in your drawer while he was looking for something else to pass the time with and read it out of boredom.

The content infuriated him beyond speech and he confronted you about it the moment you got home.

“Okay, Hardy Boy, let’s change your bandages.” You greeted him tiredly as soon as you entered the bedroom.

The sight of your tired face made Reborn’s anger rise several notches higher and he threw the letter at you before you could reach him. “Who the hell is this?!”

Your jaw hit the floor when you recognized the letter while your whole face burned red. “You went through my things?!”

“I was looking for a distraction, that novel was too short, now tell me!” he demanded through gritted teeth.

“What?! It took me a month to finish that book! And that’s none of your business.” You looked away and prepared the bandages. You refused to meet his furious gaze.

“He’s not your husband, you’re not wearing his name. You’re certainly not wearing a ring. What are you to him then?” he sneered and grabbed your wrist so tightly you were forced to meet his eyes. “His mistress?”

You blinked, the tears trying to explode from your eyes as the guilt and shame rolled over your chest like a wave. “Is it really so wrong to want to be loved? Even if it’s just for a little while…?”

Reborn wanted to kill something. Preferably large, lumpy and human. “BUT HE’S ASKING YOU FOR MONEY! WHERE THE HELL DOES HE GET THE NERVE?!”

“Yeah… You can say it’s my penitence for being a shameless woman.” Humiliation made your face pale as your sins were paraded before this stranger. He must think less of you now that he knew your deepest darkest secret. It had been nice… Having someone who didn’t judge her from past mistakes and talking to her for a while like they were friends. Oh well… You knew you were done for in polite society the moment you agreed to have an affair with a married man. Even now after it’s over, its shadow still haunted you. You bit your lip hard to keep the tears from falling. “Now show me your back. We need to get you wrapped up and clean. You wouldn’t want that wound to get infected, do you?”

It had required Reborn all his strength of will not to beat the subject into the ground where it belonged but he remained silent for your sake. Inwardly he wanted to find this man and bash his skull in. How could that bastard call himself a man?! Taking advantage of a lonely woman like that and then extorting from her?! He could understand if the woman was an absolute slut of a conscienceless bitch but you were different. You were kind. You’re funny. You smelled like heaven and sex and―

Reborn’s eyes caught your hand carefully tucking the letter in your pocket as you turned away and his rage flared out even more.

That’s it. The moment he’s out of here that son of a bitch is a dead, dead man.

“Hey, Hardy Boy?” he looked at you but you refused to meet his eyes. “Sorry you had to see that. Don’t worry, though. Just give it a couple more days and you won’t have to see me again. So don’t be too mean to me about this. Okay?”

You turned and ran from the room before you could see his piercing dark eyes turn into judging brim stones. You had managed to keep yourself together when other people gave you hell for being ‘the other woman’ in your former relationship with that man; but somehow the thought of having Reborn think so low of you made your knees weak. Made you want to stop existing in shame.

The next day you came home to find the small apartment empty. You had to lean against the bedroom door’s threshold for support when you saw the empty bed. He was gone. He probably left while you were away. So disgusted with your jaded past he wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

That night, as soon as you were ready for bed, grateful that you can use it again after a week of sleeping on the couch, you tried to tell yourself everything was alright like you always do. But as soon as you lay down you smelled his scent stuck to your pillows. The intoxicating smell of sunsets and bitter coffee mixed with expensive tobacco. Suddenly your tiny apartment felt much too large and empty…

You cry yourself to sleep.

That night you had a nice dream, though.

He was back.

He was unbuttoning your night gown from the neck down and raining kisses on every available skin he exposed. Your blanket is gone and your skirt was hiked up around your waist. His leg was rubbing sensuously between your thighs in a way that made your back arch. When his lips tenderly took in a nipple in his mouth and started laving it with his tongue the pleasure became so intense you moaned and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Easy, Nancy Drew. We have all night.”

The words snapped you right out of the half-awake state you were in and your face burned red at the realization that you weren’t dreaming. You try to push him off but it was like moving a stone wall. “What are you doing?!”

“Reborn. My name’s Reborn,” he smirked down at you as he spread your legs wider so he could grind his hardness between your legs making you gasp. “And I’m going to do what I’ve been wanting to do since I got the feeling back in my body thanks to you.”

“Wha­― Wait! I thought you left!” you were holding his shoulders so tight you were surprised you hadn’t torn his shirt yet. You bit your lip against the sensations when he started peppering your neck with kisses and his large, rough hands started stroking the back of your legs in a way that made you helplessly gasp out his name. “Reborn!”

“Fuck,” he breathed, panting as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to control himself. “That sounded better than I thought.”

“Y-you barely even know me!” you stammered out as you tried to keep yourself from writhing under the continued onslaught of his hands.

“I know enough to know that I want you.” He made sure to leave a mark on your collarbone as he slipped the nightgown off your shoulders. “I went out to string that son of a bitch up a tree by his toes. If he ever bothers you again, I’m breaking his skull in two.”

“Wait! You went to see― Ah!” Your words were cut off when he lightly bit your other nipple.

“Dammit, you’re so sensitive.” he whispered, breathing hard.

“But―”

“You think you know guilt?” his voice was thick, seductive. You could almost taste the bitter taste of coffee down your throat as he kissed you; his tongue plundering inside your mouth. By the time he pulled away your head was spinning. “I kill people for a living. Your sins are nothing weighed against mine.”

Your throaty moan and the way you arched off the bed made Reborn grind between your legs more insistently, more eagerly than before. You watched as he knelt up and shamelessly freed his arousal from his pants all the while eyeing you with smoldering dark eyes that made you melt in a puddle of need. Gently he lifted your legs to remove your panties, his finger sliding inside you testing how ready you were for him.

“Reborn…” you sounded needy but you couldn’t help it. Especially since he made sure you were watching the way he was slowly thrusting his sex inside you. “Reborn…!”

“Damn it,” he panted against you as he thrust deeper. “Hearing you say my name makes me want to come. Go ahead, darling. Tell me you’re mine.”

Even as you lose your mind to the pleasure of his thrusts you promised yourself you won’t regret this. You wanted this. You wanted him. It didn’t matter if he left after. You were used to being abandoned, anyway.

But Reborn had other plans for you. Despite the guilt of dragging you into the dark world he was in he needed you too much to let you go. You were his.

He proclaimed it hoarsely as you came, trembling in his arms…

Yamamoto

He had been foolish and careless.

He was expecting a simple job, really. He was supposed to corner the rat that was leaking information from the Vongola for another Mafia Famiglia and ‘get rid of him’ so he did. Takeshi managed to corner the man in an old apartment building. Had said his words of parting and slashed a sword through his chest. How was he supposed to know the man had a bunch of bombs strapped around his body and a dead man switch in his hand? But then again Takeshi had moved too quickly to find out about these little details.

He tried to outrun the explosion and managed to jump off down one floor to the balcony of the next apartment building over. He had been one millisecond too slow, however. Because a shrapnel from the explosion shot through his shoulder made him lose his balance and land on your balcony, already unconscious.

You rushed out at the sound of the explosion and was shocked at the sight of the bleeding man at your feet. Briefly, it occurred to you that he might be trying to rob you but when you saw the amount of blood pooling around him you kneel down by his side.

“Hello?! What happened?! Can you stand up?!”

No response.

You put your fingers on the inside of his wrist and felt a pulse before grabbing him from under his armpits and pulled him inside your apartment just in time before a bunch of police cars drove by. Looking it up and seeing whatever hit him was shot completely through his body you stop the bleeding and stitch him up as best you could. Your hands were a little unsteady and you had had to silently apologize every time you made a mistake but the man was so unconscious he didn’t even twitch. You thought about calling 911 but you couldn’t for fear of the attention it might bring. You liked your privacy just the way it was, thank you very much.

The next time Takeshi opened his eyes you were there waiting. Your eyes worried and nervous but your lips pursed in determination all the same.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

Takeshi barely managed to open his eyes at the soft concerned voice and got a glimpse of your eyes before smiling goofily. “Pretty…”

“What?” Great, he’s a weirdo. “I better take you to a hospital―”

“No… No hospital… Might as well let me die… OW!” You knew it wasn’t right to hit a man when he’s down but you couldn’t stop yourself. Hearing such words made you furious. Takeshi, however, pouted at you. “What was that for?!”

You stared back at him and his smile melted away at your glare and your lips pursed in disapproval. “Don’t talk like that, you moron! Do you have any idea how many people would give their right arms just to be alive right now?!”

The Rain Guardian blinked at you incredulously before laughing out loud. Something he regretted instantly as pain shot through him and made him limp.

“Serves you right, idiot.”

“Sorry! Geez! You need to work on your bed side manners.”

“I’d consider that advice if I were a nurse. But I’m not. So screw you.”

Again Takeshi scratched the back of his head at the sight of your displeasure. “I’ve made you mad huh?”

You sigh as you stand up and start to leave. “Lie down while I get you something to eat and see if I’ve got some pain meds.”

For some reason it bothered Takeshi that he upset you and without thinking, he grabbed your wrist and made you look back at him. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

Takeshi met your eyes and felt electrocuted by the sheer sadness he saw in there before you blushed and cleared your throat, pulling your wrist away from him and rubbing at it like it burned from his touch. “It’s okay, forget about it. Just… As long as you stay here I don’t want you making jokes like that, alright?”

There was just something so broken about you that the swordsman felt something in his chest thaw a little at the sight of it and by God did it hurt. He couldn’t help but be curious about you while you nursed him back to health.

All through that week you took care of his needs without any complaint despite being so obviously busy with your work. Sometimes, Takeshi could barely get a smile from you. You obviously lived alone and unprotected, surrounded by a mountain of books and that bothered him. You acted all tough and independent but he could see your vulnerability plain as day. You hide just how fragile you were from the world. As time went by Takeshi became more and more restless at the protectiveness you inspired in him.

A couple of days later he got bored lying in bed waiting for you to come home so he decided to see if you had anything he could spend time on. He was certainly not a very big fan of books so he ignored the impressive bookshelves lining your walls and foraged through a drawer where he saw you keep your knick knacks. To his delight he hit pay dirt when he found a tiny photo album.

He was willing to bet the little kid of about seven was you. You had two older people on there who were possibly your parents, and a little boy who looked enough like you to be your brother. He had the same hair color as you. You looked like you have a happy family. His smile melted off as he flipped towards the end of the album and saw you posing happily with your tired looking but smiling brother whose head had been shaved off. From the tubes sticking out of his nose and wrists it was easy to see that he was ill. The paleness and look in his eyes told him that the sickness was terminal. And if you were only seven in this picture then…

No wonder you hit him so hard the first time you guys met.

Flashes of his stupidity back in middle school came back to him all of a sudden. About how he would have leaped off that school building had Tsuna not stopped him. He had taken his life seriously for granted even now.

He needed to apologize to you.

The sound of your footsteps alerted him of your arrival so he returned the album and hurriedly went back to the bedroom and waited for you to greet him. He couldn’t believe just how hard his heart was pounding at the thought of seeing you again after a whole day. But when you didn’t come in after a few minutes he got worried. So he got up and peeked behind the bedroom door that had a view of the entrance. What he saw made envy wrap around his neck like a noose ready to choke him.

“You sure you don’t want me to spend the night?” the man you were with asked, still nuzzling your face and dropping sweet little kisses on your lips.

You smiled tiredly and caressed the man’s face lightly in response. “Sorry. Maybe next week?”

The man frowned. “You’re working too hard. Geez, just let me take care of you.”

You laughed and jealousy twisted in Takeshi’s gut like a fist. It was the first time he’d heard you laugh. It sounded heavenly.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks for walking me home. See you tomorrow?”

The man sighed in frustration but kissed you deeply nonetheless before stepping away and leaving. You watched the man go and it was a while before you even noticed Takeshi had been openly staring at you with the oddest expression on his face. It was strange not to see him smiling.

“Oh, hi, Takeshi,” you greeted him. “Sorry, let me just cook us dinner. I’ll change your bandages later, alright? Are you hungry? I’ll make curry.”

Takeshi focused in releasing small little breaths trying to loosen the anger and the jealousy and the godforsaken want eating at his gut like a goddamned leech. Logically he shouldn’t really be this mad, right? It’s not like you were together. It’s not like you were in love with him.

“So,” he began, still feeling a little breathless from having to strangle the fury from his system. It had been all he could do not to push the door open and cut that man’s head off. “A boyfriend huh?”

“Yeah,” you answered as you began chopping up the onions and all the other ingredients. You decided to get changed while everything simmered. “He’s my boss’ son. We’ve been together since last year.”

“Oh.” Takeshi knew he sounded like he was being strangled but he couldn’t help it. He kept staring at your back feeling like a lump was forming in his throat as he applied all his strength not to just grab you and demand you forget about that smug idiot. “Is it serious?”

“I think so,” you shrugged as you continued to work. “He’s been talking about living together lately. I guess he’s right. It would be cheaper for me.”

“Oh.” Takeshi gritted his teeth now. “He’d be paying the rent?”

“We discussed sharing the rent,” you said, finally done with partially cooking the ingredients in the oil and dumped them all in a kettle to add the water, honey, apples and curry blocks in. “I wouldn’t be comfortable otherwise.”

Bullshit, Takeshi thought viciously. If he really wanted to take care of you he’d pay for the entire thing! He’d marry you and buy you a house and a garden and a room full of your stupid books.

He laughed despite the fact the he wanted to break something. “Really? If it were me I wouldn’t let you have to pay for anything. You’d just live there with my dog and my bird.”

That made you turn around and look at him. “I didn’t know you had pets!”

“Sure do.” He grinned. I can give you everything you could possibly want! “I’ll let you meet them someday.”

And then you smiled one of those smiles that had been making his heart feel like it was floating in the air. Takeshi could only stand there and stare at you in longing, barely even breathing.

Surely you weren’t expecting him to just up and go as soon as he recovered, did you? It’s just not happening. He was too drawn to you, too aware, too obsessed to watch you end up with someone else. He had to do something. He had to do something quick.

That night, after taking a bath and having dinner you were finally ready to change Takeshi’s bandages. You really wished you didn’t have to. Every time you did you couldn’t help but be hyper aware of the lean, well-muscled body just underneath your fingertips. It was a good thing Takeshi was gentleman enough not to make you self-conscious by deliberately cracking jokes and just being his talkative self. He had been a soothing, secure presence in the apartment. You didn’t know why but knowing he was nearby made it feel like nothing and no one could possibly hurt you.

Carrying the bandages and looking forward to his chatter you stopped cold at the bedroom’s threshold, confused when you found it empty. Just when you started wondering where he could be a warm breath whispered over the bare skin of your nape.

“You’re blocking the door.”

You yelped and jumped away only to blush even more at the sight of your houseguest standing behind you fresh from a bath and wearing nothing but a towel.

Your swallowed hard and focused on your concern despite your heart beating a mile a minute. “What were you doing?! You shouldn’t have taken a bath your wounds are still fresh!”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t get them wet. I just scrubbed myself from the waist down. And my face as well. Sponge baths are fun but nothing beats a nice old scrubbing. So? Shall we?” He casually walked passed you, lithe as a wolf and lay on the bed like some Greek god waiting to be fed by his handmaidens!

What’s going on? Something’s different with him tonight. You tried to shrug it off and sat on the bed with him, concentrating on taking off his old bandages first to replace them with new ones. But unlike the past few nights when he drowned the awkwardness with his chatter, tonight Takeshi sat still and silent.

And never took his eyes off you.

You could hear your heart pounding in the silence and your breath was coming faster especially when you had to wrap the bandages around his body and got a whiff of the clean, musky scent of his skin. Somehow, while you were wrapping another strip around him, you lost your concentration. Your fingers slipped and skittered over the skin of his side.

“Hey,” you looked up, wide eyed and blushing at the raspy timber of his voice. It felt like a brush combing over your skin. “That tickles.”

You try to apologize only to be caught by his eyes. You caught your breath at the way they smoldered with something absolutely carnal.

“Takeshi?” you whispered as he leaned down towards you. “What’s happening?”

Instead of answering he caught your lips in a kiss so wanting and needy you could hardly believe you were being kissed by the same person. It was like he was sucking the very soul out of you. You weren’t sure how he did it but somehow, your clothes were on the floor and you were underneath him while he thrust again and again inside you with possessive eagerness.

“You’re breaking it off with him,” he kept whispering in a broken voice in your ear every time your hips met his. “You’re going to choose me…”

Xanxus

You were not having the best day of your life.

Your pervert of a boss found another opportunity to grab your ass again, your annoying coworkers were still a bunch of bitches and somehow, your flat mate left a garbled message in your voicemail about being out of town and that she wasn’t sure if she’ll ever come back again leaving you to pay for the rent all by yourself. And people wonder why you won’t just quit your job. There’s just no way this day could get any worse.

Mentally and emotionally exhausted you walk into your apartment and switched the lights on… Only to almost have a heart attack.

AHHHHH!!!!!!!!

“Shut up.” You promptly obey when you heard the click of a gun as the large, dark man sat up a little bit straighter in your favorite chair and pointed said gun at you. “What are you doing here?”

You swallowed hard before answering. “I-I live here.”

He scowled, apparently not liking the answer. “Where the hell is she?”

“Sorry, who?” you asked, trying to keep yourself calm. You had no doubt your brain will decorate the walls the moment you decide to run. Damn that’s a big gun.

“Veronica.” The man growled. “She said she was going to buy some meds.”

You swallowed. “She- she’s gone. She left me a message earlier. She says she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be back.”

“Son of a bitch.” He muttered through gritted teeth even as he leaned back in your chair again.

He must be your flat mate’s new boyfriend. The big fish she had been singing about these past few weeks who was going to be her ticket out of their hell hole of a life. So why would she drop him off here, obviously injured instead of sending him off to a hospital?

You noticed the smell in the room. The smell of gunpowder and blood. You look at the roughhewn rug you purchased from the flea market for a song last year and saw the warm brown was now rusty with red.

“Sir? Are you alright? Do you want me to get you an ambulance?” Please let me get you an ambulance. Anything to get you out of my house!

“If you try to make one single call, I’ll blow your fucking lungs out. Be quiet.” He ordered. His voice raspy and obviously in pain.

And you really couldn’t stand it. “You’re bleeding.”

He sneered back at her. “Congratulations. You’re smarter than you look.”

Okay now that was just uncalled for. “Can you hold on a bit? I have a med kit in the bathroom I can―”

He aimed the gun at you again. It amazed you that he hasn’t lost consciousness yet despite all that blood loss. “You’re not going anywhere, scum.”

Okay, that’s it. “Look, you’ve got the door covered, I won’t be able to run away. You are bleeding all over my floor and my favorite chair and you have ruined a perfectly good rug. I have had a very bad day, although obviously not as bad as yours. But I am tired, and hungry and the last thing I need is for an obvious criminal insulting me in my own home! Now put your gun down, sit still and let me get my damn med kit so I could at least keep you from dying in my goddamn house!”

Xanxus blinked back at you for what seemed like a full minute and you were half sure he was going to shoot you now. Instead he grunted and did as he was told but his garnet eyes narrowed at you the entire time. Taking that as permission you hurried to the bathroom, tiredly contemplating your life.

You managed to bandage him, thanks to all the busted heads and knees from the little league soccer team you coached over the weekends. You were amazed he did not make a single sound while you were stitching him up. He was wounded pretty bad. It was a good thing whatever hit him came out or you would have been forced to cut him open to get it out. Judging from the scars on his body it seemed this was nothing compared to whatever else he’s been through, though.

Somewhere during your treatment he fell asleep. Worried, you cleaned him up and stayed beside him to watch out for a fever.

Xanxus woke up dizzily at the feel of a soft hand brushing gently over his forehead. The first thought in his brain was that he fell asleep in a brothel. But then your scent wafted through him and he focused on your face.

“Welcome back.” You greeted him, relieved. “Give me a minute.”

Xanxus watched you walk off to the kitchen and come back with a glass of water and some warm soup. He noticed your clothes were still soiled with his blood as you came near.

“Can you sit up? You need to eat. You’ve lost too much blood.”

Xanxus did not move. He had too much pride to show you he can’t feel his arms yet.

You seem to figure that out too because you held the glass of water to his lips to help him drink. You failed miserably. Xanxus sent you a silent glare.

“Sorry,” you frowned, trying to figure out what to do before you pursed your lips and stood up. “Sorry about this.”

Xanxus watched you with some curiosity as you drank the water then leaned down towards him and made him drink the water from your mouth. The Varia Boss imbibed thirstily, not even realizing how parched he was until this.

You held his nicely chiseled chin in your hand and looked him in the eye, watching for any signs of refusal. “More?”

His slight nod was all you needed and you repeated the action. As you two continued he couldn’t help but notice how soft your lips were. How good you smelled. How nice your voice sounded now that you weren’t screaming at him. After finishing the whole glass Xanxus felt better. He could at least move his fingers and his mouth now.

“Okay, the soup’s hot so I can’t do that again but we’ll do this.” You scooped up a spoonful and blew on it until it cooled before holding it against Xanxus’ lips. Luckily he could move his lips and mouth after the water.

After feeding him you wiped away a few strands of hair from your forehead and sighed. “Is there anyone you want me to call? Anyone who can pick you up?”

Xanxus thought of Squalo and how he would have to deal with the Shark’s bitching if he didn’t at least let the trash know where he was so he nodded. You held your phone for him while he tapped out the numbers. The voice that answered nearly cost you your eardrums.

“VOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!! WHO IS THIS?! THIS HAD BETTER BE IMPORTANT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL―”

“Trash.”

“Xanxus? XANXUS?! YOU FUCKMOTHERING SON OF A WHORE!!! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?! I’VE BEEN HAVING EVERYONE SCOUR THE GODDAMN CITY FOR YOU, YOU BASTARD! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Xanxus raised a brow at you and you answer for him and gave the loud man on the other line your address.

“VOI! WHO WAS THAT?!!! THAT YOUR NEW WHORE?!”

“No, Veronica was the one who got me in this shit in the first place before running off like the bitch she is. Now pick me up, fucking Shark or I’ll make it so you’ll be shitting through your forehead.” Xanxus hung up without further ado.

“He sounds like he was really worried about you.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I suppose you guys are a group, huh? What’s your motto? Swearing is Caring?”

To your surprise, his lip actually twitched at that. Despite being pretty sure he was a murdering psychopath, you couldn’t help but like him. He had a well-worn look on his face that told you this man had it rough. The kind that crawled out from the dirt to get to the top.

“Still hungry? Want me to make you something else?”

“Hey.”

You blinked and stared back. “Yeah?”

“I kill people for a living.”

“Um… I kinda guessed the moment you pulled a gun on me and threatened to blow my brains out.”

“Then why the hell are you being so fucking nice? I could order my men to rape and kill you when they come here if I wanted. And then I could shoot you dead.”

You winced. “Would you really do that? I hope you won’t. Because that would really suck.”

You surprised a snort out of him. “You’re a fucking weirdo.”

“And you swear too much. Not that I mind. Now I don’t know about you but I’m famished. Hold on a minute and I’ll get us some decent breakfast. You’d probably want to walk out of here by the time they come instead of crawl. Or worse yet, get carried off bridal style.”

It had taken approximately forty five minutes before the rest of the Varia arrived. It was full-fledged pandemonium for a total of five minutes while Squalo screamed, Levi wailed, Lussuria wept, Belphegor giggled and Mammon erased all evidence that they have been there. He was about to float over to you and get rid of the witness but Xanxus’ voice stopped the illusionist.

“Hold it. No one’s touching that. That one’s mine.”

You met his eyes with your questioning ones but his face was the same solemn granite you had beheld all night long. His beautiful ruby eyes arrested you into stillness. It was like being caught in hypnosis. You barely even noticed how his companions threw you curious and assessing looks as they protectively ushered their Boss away.

He stuck in your mind, that Xanxus. Even after a week you couldn’t get him out of your head. He was an enigmatic man. You don’t usually go for bad boys but there was just something so… special about him for lack of a better word. A curious brand of strength mixed with a soul that had known too much hurt.

She should really stop thinking about him. Life moved on and at least she was alive. She had bigger problems. Like the rent. So when a male coworker expressed interest in become flat mates with you you pounced on the chance and took him home.

Imagine the poor guy’s shock when he was met with the barrel of a gun between the eyes.

“XANXUS!”

Who the fucking hell is this?!

“Wait, you can’t kill him! He’s going to be my new flat mate!”

If you thought that was going to calm him down then you have another think coming.

“Listen, boy,” Xanxus growled. His voice low, raspy and utterly deadly. “You’ve got three seconds to move your ass or you’ll be feeding the sewer rats tonight. One.”

Your hopes were dashed in less than a second as your guest ran screaming bloody hell into the night.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” you were almost in tears as you stomped a foot on the floor. “How am I going to pay the rent this month?!”

“Fuck the rent. I’ll set you up in a penthouse.” He snarled as he put his gun away and stalked towards you. “Hell, I’ll give you a fucking mansion!”

“And how am I going to pay for something like that, Mr. Big Shot?”

You’re sarcasm was cut off when he pushed you against the wall, his eyes again pinning you like a butterfly on a board and you felt that pull again. The same one you felt the last time you saw him before he left.

“By becoming mine, of course.” He growled quietly as he leaned towards you.

You try to push him away, your cheeks red and your eyes glaring. “I am not Veronica. I am not going to be her replacement, you idiot! Let go!”

“Moron,” he huffed in amusement at your futile attempts to free yourself from him. “Veronica wasn’t my woman; she’s just a fuck toy. You’re going to belong to me. Anybody else tries anything on you; I’ll blow their fucking brains out.”

Somehow, as he caught your lips in a heated, passionate kiss, you couldn’t help but think that this just may be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to you.

And then you melted in his embrace…

Paladin Danse Headcannons!

-He’s amazingly intelligent, but he’s so serious that he comes off as goofy.

- COMPLETELY oblivious to the fact that he’s really handsome

-6'4 and 255lbs

-Nobody else in the Brotherhood of steel notices this, but he has tapetum lucidum in his eyes. He’s always inside or has his power armor on so nobody can see it.

-He has some good ass reflexes.

-When he does laugh, he has a cute giggle.

-He can read 5 books in a week(Fast reader)

-Bored eater. He’s always nibbling on something healthy, but something.

-From an ethnic standpoint, he might be Latino and Caucasian (Only because he looks just like this guy who I was friends with, and he was Latino and Caucasian)

-He’s a cat person
@rinasai

Imagine your son watching his daddy, Chris, on TV.

A/N: Helloooooooo, I’m back with the mini series! The last mini left us with Chris and the reader having an adorable little boy; Jackson River Evans. This continues on from there, just a bunch of fics that show their daily adventures that come with parenthood. Hope you enjoy it. X (Here is the mini-series ‘Masterlist’, I’ll link it as soon as I get home.)

It was 11:25PM in the Evans household, after a long day of running errands with your very talkative and excitable son, one would think that you and Chris would be fast asleep. But instead, the two of you were sat on the floor of your living room surrounded by wrapping paper, ribbons, and a buttload of different toys, books, and clothes for your son’s second birthday tomorrow.

You’d planned to start wrapping around 8:30PM- Jack’s bedtime- but as always, neither of you could leave his side until he fell asleep which was three and a half stories later at 9:48PM. What made things worst was that he knew it was his birthday tomorrow and that his parents were staying up to wrap his presents and prepare for his party; the questions he tackled both of you with made for good laughs and weary head shakes.

“Do you want some coffee?” Chris chuckled when another yawn escaped you; you shook your head. “What about Gummi Bears?” You shook your head again. “What about both?” He suggested, smiling when you bit back your smile.

“No, I’m good.” You told him as you returned your attention to the half wrapped ‘Dancing Elmo’ in front of you. “I can’t have caffeine or sugar now, if I do then- I’m going to be up all night.” Chris raised an eyebrow, his facials saying “isn’t that what we want?” You chuckled, “are you that tired that you’ve forgotten what happened the last time I tried to stay up with the help of coffee and Gummi Bears?”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought back, it didn’t take long for realization to sweep over his face. “Ah, yes.” He chuckled, nodding. “I believe I called it The Rise and Fall of Y/N.” You nodded with pursed lips. “I honestly thought you broke that day, was going to call Kevin and Robert to set me up with another girl.” You rolled your eyes. “Preferably one that doesn’t go on a caffeine and sugar high so she can pull an all nighter on her script, only to talk my ear off with her random epiphanies instead.”

“Jerk,” you tossed a toddler size version of Chris’ favorite pair of shoes at him. It hit him in the chest and landed in his lap, but he was too busy bellowing with laughter to bother retaliating. “Shut up,” you laughed softly, throwing the other shoe at him. “You’re going to wake Jack up.”

“Okay okay,” he softened his laughter, wiping away the tears that had formed in the corner of his eyes. “Hey, these are cute.” He said when he picked the shoes up off his lap. “They look exactly like mine, how did you-” He looked up at you and you smirked, shrugging. “You’re going to make him so happy.”

“I know,” you smiled. “He keeps asking me to put your shoes aside for him so he can wear them when he’s older, he gets so mad when he sees you wearing them because he thinks they’re his now. He keeps telling me that you’re wearing them out.”

“Trust me, I know,” he chuckled. “He gets so passive-aggressive every time I have those shoes on. Like the other day, he told me my feet are too big for those beautiful shoes.” You both laughed at that. “And just today, I found him hiding them under his bed. Honestly,” he shook his head, smiling, “that boy is an odd one.”

“Children are a reflection of their parents,” you teased.

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded then smirked as he said, “have you met his mom?”

“I’m running out of soft things to throw at you,” you threw a Mickey Mouse plush ball at him. “Can we get back to it now?” You asked, beckoning at the pile of unwrapped gifts; you were starting to regret offering your wrapping services to your family and friends who were out of town and couldn’t make it. “We’re going to need at least some sleep if we want to get through a two year old’s birthday party tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay.”

The both of you returned to wrapping and a comfortable silence filled the air. It wasn’t until you got through your fifth gift, and Chris his fourth that you both realized there were sounds coming from upstairs. You glanced behind you then turned back to Chris whose narrowed eyes were looking at the archway leading to the hallway where the stairs were.

“Did you leave the TV on upstairs?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I haven’t been upstairs since-”

“Jack,” you both concluded in unison, heaving a heavy sigh.

Chris made his way upstairs with you right on his heel. The closer you got to your bedroom, the louder the TV got. Chris looked over his shoulder at you, mouthing “is that?” You nodded, chuckling when you realized Jack was watching one of his father’s old interviews with Jimmy Fallon. You both poked your head into the room and saw Jack snugged in the middle of your bed with Dodger under his tiny arm. He was always so mesmerized by his dad, or you, being on TV that he’d fail to notice all else, like the two of you in the doorway.

“Bud,” Chris called and Jack flinched, “what are you doing out of bed?”

“I’m not out of bed,” he gestured to the fact that he was in your bed, grinning cheekily.

“Let’s rephrase,” you stepped in, chuckling, “what are you doing out of your bed?”

“Well, I…” he trailed off, turning his attention back to the TV because he didn’t want to miss a second of his dad.

You and Chris shared a weary look then shrugged and joined Jack in your king sized bed, each on either side of him. Dodger shuffled, moving to rest his head on your lap. You smiled and stroked his side, leaning down to whisper into his floppy ear “thanks for looking after of our little handful, sweetheart.”

“Shhh,” Jack pressed his tiny finger to his lips.

“Oh, please.” You chuckled. “Like my whispering-”

“Seriously, shh,” Chris shushed you too, pointing to the TV. “You’ll want to listen to this part, it’s super sweet.” A smug smirk formed on his lips because you’d already seen it before and you already knew it was super sweet. “It’s about his wife and kid.”

“And I’m the kid!” Jack gasped excitedly and climbed out of the covers so he could crawl closer to the TV. You were about to reach and catch him when Chris got to him first; the last thing you needed was your son ruining his eyes like you did as a child.

“You’re not going any closer to the TV, bud.” Chris murmured into his soft locks. “The last thing we need is you wearing glasses too.” Jack still tried to wiggle out of his dad’s strong grip and Chris frowned. “Jack, stop,” he spoke in a firmer tone and Jack immediately stilled. “Either sit here with me or go to bed.”

“I’ll sit here with you,” Jack nodded, leaning back against his dad’s chest.

“Not bad,” you mouthed, smiling at Chris who was tipping his imaginary hat; he was getting a lot better at controlling Jack. Usually Jack would just ignore Chris and continue his defiance until you stepped in and dropped the hammer, but not so much anymore. You turned your attention back to the TV when you heard your name.

“I believe congratulations are in order, you and Y/N are now parents to an adorable boy.” Jimmy said and the audience cheered; Chris smiled as a photo of you carrying Jack, who was only eight months then, popped up on the screen behind him.

“That’s me,” Jack giggled excitedly; both you and Chris chuckled.

“Jack, right?” Jimmy asked and Chris nodded. “He is a beautiful baby.”

“Thank you,” Chris smiled. “Yeah, he is a real looker. His smile just lights up the room and his eyes are bluer than mine,” he chuckled softly. “But I mean-” he glanced back at the photo, his smile growing even wider. “I didn’t really expect anything less. Look at his mom, she’s beautiful and perfect and- he’s just a splitting image of her.”

The interview touched your heart like it did the first time, you smiled and reached over Jack to press your hand against your husband’s face. He smiled and turned his head, kissing the palm of your hand. You pulled your hand away and returned your attention to the TV.

“It must be very hard for you to be away from home at the moment,” Jimmy said and Chris nodded, pouting adorably. “And how is Y/N handling Jack on her own? She’s always said that between the two of you, you’re better with kids.”

“That’s-” Chris chuckled. “No, Y/N is fantastic with children. She just says she’s not because she’s overly modest and she likes her 'I-don’t-want-kids’ reputation, but honestly- if you see her with kids, you can tell that she is nothing like she portrays herself to be. She is just the sweetest, kindest, most gentle person when she’s around kids. Well,” he chuckled, “the good ones anyway.”

“And Jack’s one of the good ones, right?”

“Definitely,” Chris nodded, smiling. “I was FaceTiming with Y/N yesterday and she’s been telling me all about how he just sleeps through the night and eats whatever she gives him. He’s a very easy baby, like she hasn’t even had to call our moms for backup yet.”

“I’m sure you must be very excited to get back home to them,” Jimmy put another photo up on the screen behind Chris; it was one of the three of you and Dodger that Chris tweeted out for Mother’s Day. The whole audience awwwed at the photo, making Chris smile. “I mean- that is a sweet family waiting for you.”

“Yeah, and I’m counting down the days till I see them,” Chris admitted with a soft chuckle. “Only a couple months of press left and then I’m back in Boston for a long break until the next part premieres. But by then, Jack should be old enough to fly so they can come out and visit me while I’m doing press around the world.”

Jimmy smiled, “once again, congratulations. If you’re watching this, Y/N, Jack is beautiful and I am so happy for you guys. The first part of Avengers Infinity War is out in cinemas now, be sure to watch it. Chris Evans, everyone!”

You expected Jack to clap and when he didn’t, you looked over to find him fast asleep in his dad’s arms. “I guess he woke up and just wanted us to keep him company until he fell asleep again,” Chris whispered and you smiled. “I’m going to go put him to bed.” You nodded and yawned as he rose to his feet with Jack in his arms. “And you should go to sleep too, I’ll finish up downstairs.”

“We’re a team,” you told him and rose to your feet, following him with a hand on his lower back. “I don’t sleep until you sleep.” Chris smiled and wrapped one arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as the two of you made your way to Jack’s room.

Tags: @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @xoxomioxoxo @imaginesofdreams @ateliefloresdaprimavera @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @caitsymichelle13 @michellekeehlmello @chrisevans-imagines @letterstomyself21 Tags are open for the mini series, inbox me if you want to be added. :D


Part 2 will be up soon.