Steve Huston is one of the best artists and teachers of our time. His advice has been helping me figure out how I should approach making art and why I create art in the first place.
In this interview, Steve Huston talks about how to grow as an artist, how to develop a unique style, how to find what calls to you, and much more. It’s a mighty 106 minute conversation filled with golden nuggets. Don’t miss this one.
Summary: There’s quite possibly nothing you hate more than Min Yoongi and his stupid, stupid face—and the stupid, stupid way he makes you feel. Pairing: Yoongi | Reader Genre: Fluff/Smut, Camp Counselor AU Word Count: 11,371 Author’s Note: What better way to celebrate the summer than to mix Min Yoongi and camp counseling? Also, this is my first time getting to write really sarcastic Yoongi and I was really living. And to @minsvga – hEY thanks for encouraging sarcastic Yoongi in the first place, and lots of sinning; this is all your fault.
As soon as you step off the bus at the top of the mountain, surrounded by trees and forest and the fresh smell of pine, miles and miles away from your family and the troubles of everyday life—there is without a doubt in your mind that you’re reached your home. The sun is bright, hitting your eyes as soon as you depart from the vehicle, which only serves as a benchmark for what the next few weeks would consist of. And for the most part, you cannot wait to bask in the freedom and the responsibility and the adventure of resuming your counselor position at Camp Bulletproof for the fourth year in a row.
There’s an endearing aspect of being a regular at Camp Bulletproof, one that comes with smiles and waves exchanged with counselors who share the same experience as you, ones you’ve known for many years and have a friendship that can transcend the fact that you all didn’t see each other a lot more than you actually saw each other but that doesn’t stop any of you from spending hours on end supplying backstories for stories or sharing tales from school. It’s a gesture that is done very willingly given that some of these people have plagued your childhood and some of your most fond memories. For the most part, you can’t wait until after hours so the counselors could all have some time to catch up.
“I want to talk to you about something,” Even says and Isak’s stomach literally falls out of his ass. Thing is, there’s a reason for this. Because the last time Even had used that specific phrase, he had just been accepted into a film school. In London. And Isak had just been accepted into a biomedical research position in Oslo. Of course, it all worked out in the end because they are Isak and Even and they’re like, fated, or some shit that Even always says in the nighttime hours, but damn was that a rough couple of months.
So like, the phrase causes a brief flash of panic.
Isak glances at the table– which probably should have been his first clue that something was up. Even had made all of his favorite foods for dinner. And he knew he spotted strawberry shortcake in the kitchen, so Even had gone for the big guns in buttering Isak up.
He swallows the bite of chicken and takes a swig of red wine (because he is now one classy motherfucker.) “Okay?”
Even taps his fingers on the table and then reaches up to take his own sip of wine, but puts it back down just as quickly. “Okay. Okay here we go.”
But Even says nothing right after that, so Isak has all the time in the world to fucking lose his mind.
“Even,” Isak hedges, “Baby. You’re freaking me out. Like a lot.”
“I know.” Even shakes himself, “I’m sorry. I don’t know how you’re going to take it and this is like- a life changing conversation so I’m trying to be articulate and get it right on the first try.”
Isak runs a hand through his hair, “Well, are you divorcing me?”
Even shoots him the most deadpan look in the world, so Isak lets a little smile tug on the corner of his lips, “Okay good. You’re not pregnant, are you?”
Even freezes and opens his mouth and Isak raises his eyebrows, “That was a joke. Even, if you’re pregnant I need to have a serious discussion with someone about the laws of biology.”
Even throws a wadded up napkin, “I’m not fucking pregnant, you shit.” He plays with the collar of his white cuffed shit (Another! fucking! red! flag! because when the hell have they ever dressed up for each other?), “But like- it has to do with that.”
“Just come out and say it,” Please god, say it before Isak has an aneurysm, “Whatever it is, do it.”
So he does.
Even takes a deep breath and says, “I want to talk about adopting a kid.”
There is a bit of ringing in his ears, so he doesn’t quite hear the way Even scoots his chair back and slides to his knees right in front of Isak’s chair, “Baby?”
“Me baby?” Isak says dumbly, “You want a baby. Like a real baby.”
“Yeah,” Even’s voice is level, controlled. “Yeah, I really do, Isak. And it doesn’t have to be now. But I want to talk about it with you.”
“With me,” he repeats dumbly, “You want a kid with me? Why? Oh my god, Even, I’m a mess. I’ve been going commando for the past week because I ran out of boxers and I’m too lazy to do laundry!”
That damn grin at the corner of Even’s mouth nearly does him in. The quick kiss Even presses to his lips does, “You are the only person I would ever want a kid with.”
Isak grabs his wine glass and chugs it, “A kid. Like you and me adopting a kid and taking care of it and raising it until it’s 18. Changing diapers and… going to school performances and… rocking it when it gets sick.”
Even nods softly, “And taking family vacations to the beach…. teaching him or her all about movies… and you can teach them about parallel universes and other science stuff.”
“Holy shit, Even…. you want a kid. With me.”
Isak thinks about it, like a home movie where the actors haven’t quite all been chosen. He sees himself and Even, and a little human with flashes of blonde hair and hears baby giggles and-
He sees Even folded into a tiny little bed with a children’s book on his lap and a nameless, faceless, child (their child) in his lap. And Even is grinning and reading to them in funny voices. Then he sees himself behind a kid, directing them on how to look in a telescope.
He sees so much.
“This is a big thing,” Isak says, “A really, really big thing. Are you sure you want to?”
“The only thing I have ever been sure of in my life is you, Isak. I want to do this with you.”
111. A (whispering): I really like you and want to kiss you a lot. B: What? A: I said you suck. + 107. Do you live on Elm Street, because you’re a nightmare.
(yas! tom holland omg imma tear up! *tears up*) Here you go, love!! :)
Growing up in a family of boxers, you were never the typical girl who played with dolls and thought everything in pink. For your ninth birthday your uncle and your father bought you your first set of throwing knives.
Every day from your Summer holiday you practised with them on the targets they placed to you in the backyard of your house. And with every year you were getting better and better, but your heart wanted more.
Yes, by the age of eighteen you have already mastered the art of blades, but you didn’t stop there. Your soul was saturated with lust for adrenaline and you were always looking for more.
This got the attention of some very dangerous people. Your confidence got the best out of you when in one night - outnumbered one to ten, you pushed yourself to your very limits, knocking out seven of your opponents, but on the verge of your strenght you were about to lose your life…
If it was not for Steve Rogers, whose attention you managed to capture after seeing you fight in this dark alley. He saved you back then and helped you get a grip of your unstoppable desire for adrenaline.
With his guidings you became not even a better fighter, but a better version of yourself and he was also seeing this. So when he told you The Avengers wanted you to join them and become one of them you were on the Seventh sky.
Things were alright for a few months. Though a part of the team your strongest bond was still with Steve. Tony and Steve were the people you admired the most, while Natasha’s training made you acknowledge the fact that it’s better to fight elegantly, and smart, not full of aggression and violence.
But nothing that’s too good can last forever.
Today was the day. The Avengers were a team no more and today you were about to face them, fight them, maybe even hurt some of them. As much as it pained you to stand there - a few feet away from Clint and Tony and all the people you admire and have fought side by side; at the end of the day you had to pick a side.
Steve has been there for you from the very start and so you were about to return him the favor - ready to fight until the last drop of blood.
However you couldn’t help but notice the new addition to the family. “So that’s him the new guy. ” - you said, eyeing the guy in red suit, though you didn’t know that behind his mask he was checking you out as well.
Like fully checking you out. “Earth to Peter” - Tony’s robotic voice brought the boy back to reality - “We’re about to do some serious shit, can’t have you checking girls out all day” - “Sorry, Mr. Stark, won’t happen again”
Tony couldn’t roll his eyes more than that. Fortunatelly for you, you didn’t hear any of their conversation, because boy, that would have made things very awkward.
“Just like we talked about it”- Steve told you with a nod of his head “Roger that!” and you bolted to the left. “Ah, Mr. Stark?” - “Don’t ask kid, go!”
And so it begun.
Steve knew Tony would be looking for someone new to take your place on his team and told you to keep the new one out of their way, when you were done you could go back and help with the rest.
Sprinting forward you felt yourself losing your balance and in the matter of a second you were now in the air “Oh, shit” - you cursed, looking up, just as your body got slammed against a truck. “I’m so sorry about that! Didn’t mean to hurt–” you pushed your body up and jumped back to your feet, landing a blow on him.
He bent over, using this chance you threw yourself at him, twirling your legs around his neck and knocked him out on thr ground. He grunted in pain, but you waited not a single second - throwing a set of three knives at him, but he leaped up, shooting his webs to the wall behind you.
“Damn it!”- you hissed, teeth clenched. He was fast, you would give him that. “Please – I – really – don’t want – to hurt you!!” - landing a series of kicks and blows on him, his words were just a white noise to you - “But I guess you leave me no choice” - the next time you tried to jump at him with a kick he swung his web at your leg, capturing it and bringing you to the ground.
Shocked, you weren’t quick enough to escape his next attack, but he just jumped over you - shooting away more of his web - trapping you to the ground. You glared at him - “I’m Peter Parker by the way” - he introduced himself an obvious smile in his voice. “You’re very pretty, we should go out sometimes –”
You used his little talk to pick up a knife from your left boot and cut off your restraints and then tossing it at him, but he dashed to the side and dodged off your attack. Just in time for you to thrust yourself in the air, spinning around and strike him with anoter hard hit.
He fell, rolling on the ground, just as you landed on the cold cement gracefully. Approaching him, you heard him groan in pain heavily. You knelt down and pulled his mask up.
Eyes narrowed because of the sunlight that was caressing his face ”So now that we fought and stuff is it safe for me to admit I really like you and want to kiss you a lot” he mumbled, a pained smile on his face, but you didn’t really pay attention - too interested in observing his face “What?”- you asked nonchalantly.
He just tilted his head back in desperation, hitting the floor with it - “I said you suck, like girl do you live on Elm Street, because your hits are nightmare, God, for a girl you really hit hard”.
He was rubbing the back of hit head with one hand. You stood up chuckling and throwing his mask back at him - “Lakeview Drive, 8 o’clock” - you said putting your knife back in your boot.
He just made a very confused “huh?” sound and you turned back at him with a wink - “If you’re still up for that date, pretty boy.”
Harry greeted from the doorway of your shared bedroom, his eyes looking discreetly at the clock that stated it’s 1 AM in the wee hours of morning.
“Told you not to wait up for me.”
He took his polo off that was slightly damp from his swear along with his jeans, leaving him in his boxers, going to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, feeling the extra fatigue come to his system once he felt fresh from having been tired in the studio and having a few drinks in the bar.
He went to your side of the bed and pressed a kiss on your cheek, a downgrade of what used to be a long kiss on your lips or a hug in where he’d nuzzle his face on the crook of your neck, completely inhaling your scent before pressing little kisses.
“How was your day?”
“’S good, finished some backing vocals. Had a few drinks with Nick and Kendall.”
Your stomach slightly felt queasy at the mention of her, but the feeling lifted for a second to realize that Harry’s your boyfriend, not her’s.
You weren’t blind to not see the older pictures of Harry and Kendall every time you scrolled down your feed of any social media account, nor the times Hardy made clear and evident that she was just a friend yet with him being a bit more talkative when she was there.
Yet deep inside you, you had the assurance that Harry loves you, yet not eaxactly as much as expressive as you are.
“You tired, baby?”
You asked, your hand going through his hair which made him release a sound of comfort, his head pressed upon your palm, humming out an answer you expected.
You immediately relaxed once you heard Harry’s voice the moment he accepted your call, the bass of the loud music as his background not going unnoticed.
“Where are you, love?”
“O — oh! I forgot to tell you this morning! It’s Kendall’s birthday today!”
The plan of spending a special night with Harry crumbled underneath your fingertips, making you take a deep breath to control yourself.
It was supposed to be a night to be spent completely between the both of you, especially now that you were promoted a rank higher in your job, something that you’ve hoped for ever since the start.
“What time are you going home, H?”
He hummed, the image of Harry probably looking at his watch striking in your mind, making you wait anxiously.
“Maybe a few minutes after midnight? And Y/N, baby, I told you not to wait up for me. ’S the reason why you’re always tired in the morning.”
“God forbid I get tired, Harry. Wish her a happy birthday for me, will you?”
“Will do, love,” he almost shouted since he couldn’t hear himself through the music, the sound of his name being called by probably one of his friends being heard by the both of you.
“Okay. I love y-…”
You were cut short with the line being completely dropped, upsetting you maybe a bit more than it should, making you turn your attention to the drink in front of you.
“Cheating. They call it emotional cheating.”
Harry’s eyebrows immediately furrowed from what you were saying, stopping himself from putting some clothes in his duffel bag that would last him for a day and in his toiletries, his attention completely turning towards you whose arms are crossed and standing in the doorway.
“Love, what the hell are you saying?”
He asked, nearing towards you and putting his hands on your shoulder, a concerned look on his face.
“Is this about your birthday tomorrow? Baby, I told you I would make up for it. You know I promised James I would come to his baby shower. Which happens to be in a yacht for a day.”
“I would be lying if I tell you that I didn’t notice how invested you are in Kendall. Every time you see her, the picture; the conversations.”
Harry breathed out since he noticed you lately of you changing your habits slightly, of how your eyes looked tired.
Yet beyond that, he didn’t seem to notice on how much you compromised. On how much you adjusted your life around him so you could be simply with him.
“Love, it just happens that James invited Kendall too. It isn’t my decision.”
You stared at your feet, feeling the hollowness in your heart for what felt alike in the past few months, your hands being put on top of his shoulders.
“You love me, right?”
It was obvious.
The moment Harry appeared on the door from the night after James’ baby shower, he already knew that you knew it.
And in fact, you already knew it, if it wasn’t for the people tagging you on posts numerously that your phone blew up with notifications, nor the text James sent saying that he’s sincerely sorry because if he knew, he wouldn’t invite either of them and even scold Harry.
He was looking at you expectingly, the tears already flowing out of his eyes as his heart dropped on the sight of you sitting silently on the couch, cussing himself silently of how much he messed up.
“Please say something.”
His voice cracked, pleading for you to say anything, whether it would favor him or not because at that moment, the silence was killing him slowly. He knew how well you could give a silent treatment and remembered a promise to himself long ago that he wouldn’t cross you again because he hates it.
He hates every single bit of it.
“That’s a nice birthday present.”
His heart tightened of what she just said, regretting the things he’ve done faster than when he did it, fully knowing that you can’t and you’re not looking into his eyes.
“I’m giving you a choice. So you wouldn’t think of me as being selfish.”
You stood up, looking down the floor until your feet was a good ruler away from his shoes, making it as a basis so that you wouldn’t get close to him.
“Five days. First choice is I stay here and not talk nor do anything that has to do with me interacting with you. Second is that I stay in a hotel and we could talk. On the phone, one call. Five minutes a day.”
“Love-…” Harry cut himself short, clenching and unclenching his fist at the weight of the moment he carries.
“It would kill me to not either see you nor talk to you.”
You wanted to fight him with what he said, but you took off the urge, your gaze still fixed on the floor.
Harry gulped, desperately wanting to fix what he caused in the first place.
He knew it. He knew it better than anyone should to not break your trust. Especially when you cussed at him while fighting. And yet again, he brought it upon himself. The both of you suffering.
Harry hiccuped out his answer amidst his tears, feeling the pain sear right through his seams that he felt shitty to say the least.
Would he use his five minutes now?
It was less than thirty minutes after you left the house on the same day he went home, bringing yourself and nothing else but your car, your keys, your phone and your cash.
You figured that you would buy clothes in the mini botiques the hotel has once the air gets too suffocating in your room.
You figured that you would rely on the hotel’s complimentary incentives for the toilteries.
You figured that you would have a drink or two from the mini bar they consider that’s in their mini refigerator.
Harry thought of it for a moment if it would be a good time to use his five minutes. Even better is what’s he going to say.
Your commitment is hanging on by five phone calls he’s going to make, your judgement, and maybe includes his prayers for you to be back on his arms.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (Both Receiving), Public Sex, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex, Jeep Sex
Notes: Guess what guys! This was a request! I absolutely loved this idea. This was so fun to write. And I couldn’t wait to get it out. So I will probably be regretting life at work seeing as it is 3:30 in the morning right now. BUT THIS WAS SO WORTH THE 13 HOURS OF WRITING. I hope my lil nonnie (though I DO know who requested this, I will not divulge) loves this ❤️
Request: can you do a stiles smut
where the reader is possessed by a powerful goddess or the reader is a demigod
and she can regain her powers/stay in control by having sex with someone? and
that stiles is her anchor? TYSM ❤️
Bucky winces as the front door creaked; he’d have to change the hinges soon. The floor boards ached underneath his boots, making awful creaking noises with each step. Goddamit, he was trying to be quiet for fucks sake and his 7,000 year old house was making that nearly impossible.
“You’re back early,” Bucky looks up from the old wooden floor to look upon his wife, standing at the foot of their stairs with a robe wrappedaround her body. Bucky can’t help but smile as he lowers his bag to the ground, immediately enveloping (Y/N) into a tight hug.
“Mission went off without a hitch,”
“Mmhh, that’s good,” (Y/N) hums softly as she runs her fingers through Bucky’s sweat matted hair. “No bruises, cuts, broken bones?”
“My leg has a small scratch, nothing to be too worried about,” (Y/N) releases Bucky from their hug instead taking his hands as she quietly led him up the stairs, stopping when the floorboards would creak gently. It took a few minutes but (Y/N) finally got them up the stairs and into their shared bedroom.
(Y/N) immediately drags Bucky to their bathroom, gingerly forcing him down onto the side of their bathtub, a vintage claw foot that Bucky spent years trying to install.
“Clothes off,” (Y/N) states matter of factly as she reaches under their sink, grabbing the first aid kit she always had on hand.
“(Y/N), it’s really nothin’ to worry about doll, just a little scratch-”
“Don’t make me tell you again Mr. Barnes,” (Y/N) clucked her tongue at him, smiling just a bit. Bucky smiled as he unbuttoned his vest, letting it droop to the floor as he began worming his boots and pants off. Before his pants were even off his leg (Y/N) pounced upon him, inspecting his wound thoroughly as though she were some kind of surgeon. She might as well have been a surgeon given how often she was stitching Bucky up, making him feel better and okay.
“I don’t think it’s going to need any stitches- this time,” (Y/N) adds the last part with a soft smile. “Probably just some cleaning and a bandage.”
“See, what did I tell you-”
“But you need a shower, you smell horrible,” Bucky chuckles gingerly as he shakes his head, still being mindful enough to be quiet.
“Only if you join me,” (Y/N) smiles softly, chuckling herself.
“I have to go make breakfast soon-”
“We’ll help each other, promise,”
“James Buchanan Barnes, the last time you tried to cook in my kitchen you nearly burned our entire house down,”
“Yeah, but then we got to renovate, remember how fun that was?”
“I remember you nailing your hand to a piece wood, that’s for sure,” (Y/N) chuckles again, shaking her head fondly at the memory.
“Well, I have experience now and I promise I won’t burn our kitchen down,” Bucky smiles softly, his eyes twinkling with a warm sort of fondness for his wife. “Please join me?”
“Fine, but only because you asked so nicely,” (Y/N) slides off her robe as Bucky turns their tub on, letting it fill up with warm water before he and (Y/N) clambered In.
Bucky looks back as (Y/N) slides her bra off, leaving her completely vulnerable to his gaze. It felt like Bucky’s breath had been taken away; it didn’t matter how many times he looked at (Y/N), every time he did it felt like the first, every single time.
“You’re gorgeous,” Bucky whispers as he settles his hands on (Y/N)’s waist as his gaze rakes up and down her body, taking every chunk of her in. “So gorgeous,” Bucky leans forward, pressing a series of kisses along (Y/N)’s hips, stomach, and sternum. Her breath hitches in the back of her throat and her hands immediately fly to his hair, gripping it gently.
“Bucky, bath first, sex after breakfast,” Bucky smiles as he pulls back, looking up at (Y/N) adoringly.
“You’re no fun,”
“Get in the tub you loser,” (Y/N) chuckles as they give his shoulder a gentle tap, before she clambers into the tub, taking up almost half the thing.
“God, we need a new tub,” Bucky mutters as he slides in, right between (Y/N)’s legs.
“And you’re not installing it,” (Y/N) presses a gentle kiss to his forehead as she grabs his shampoo bottle, flipping the cap open and squirting some onto her palm.
“Why not?” Bucky pouts adorably as (Y/N) uses her free hand to work some water into his hair.
“I don’t need to remind you of what happened the last time you tried to install something,” (Y/N) chuckles as she works the water into his hair, soaking it before working the shampoo in. Bucky hums in delight, sighing as he relaxes against (Y/N)’s body.
“It was my first time, I can do it so well now-”
“Bucky,” (Y/N) title his head up enough that she can lean down to press a kiss to his lips. “No more repairs or installations for you, we’ll get a contractor to come out and help,”
“What the hell kind of contractor is going to come all the way out here?”
“Bucky, stop squirming or you’re going to get shampoo in your eyes,” (Y/N) chuckles as she fondly strokes her husband’s scruffy cheek, just a barely there touch that she knew he enjoyed so much.
Bucky settles down, enough for (Y/N) to wash his hair, condition it, and manage to cover some parts of his body in soap.
“And I’m sure uncle Clint wouldn’t mind coming in to help fix the tub,”
“You’d pick Clint over me?” Bucky looks almost appalled as he looks up at (Y/N), his eyes narrowed and mouth open. (Y/N) smirks as she hands the soap over to Bucky, smacking the soapy bar into his outstretched hand.
“Mhm, yes I would,”
“I’m offended,” Bucky mutters as he washes all the parts (Y/N) wasn’t able to get, namely anything past his pecs.
“Boohoo,” (Y/N) chuckles as Bucky begins to work on his legs, having to sling one of them over the edge of the tub to clean it. “I’ll make it up to you later,”
“Yeah,” Bucky grumbles as he works on the other leg. “I’m sure you will,” (Y/N) smiles as she tilts her head, just enough to kiss the side of Bucky’s head.
“How about waffles for breakfast and me for dessert?” Bucky hums as he sets the soap down, tilting his head up to smile at (Y/N).
“That sounds heavenly,”
“Well let’s get going then Big guy,” (Y/N) chuckles softly as Bucky clambers out of the tub, grabbing a towel for himself and two for (Y/N).
“Thank you,” (Y/N) gets on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips before quickly pulling away again. “You’re running out of clothes to wear,” (Y/N) comments as she throws him a pair of boxers and loose sweats. “We’ll have to go shopping soon,” Bucky
Hums as he gets dressed, sliding his clothing on as he watched (Y/N). God- he could just look at her all day. She was beautiful in his eyes, any little imperfection that she hated Bucky loved, any stretch mark or unwanted mole, any “fat” that she claimed to have he loved it.
Bucky can’t help but wrap his hands around (Y/N)’s waist as she slips a shirt on, letting it bunch around his arms.
“I missed you,” Bucky whispers as he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. “I missed this,” (Y/N) sighs as she settles her arms over his, grasping his hands gently and giving them a gentle squeeze.
“I missed you too…how long will you be staying this time?”
“Whenever Fury calls me back,” Bucky presses his lips to (Y/N)’s neck, giving her a series of open mouthed kisses. (Y/N) hums pleasurably, tilting her head to the side a bit to give Bucky better access.
“We miss you,” (Y/N) whispers, stopping Bucky dead in his tracks. We. (Y/N) and their children; their children. Sometimes Bucky forgot he had a life here, a loving wife, three amazing kids, he was so caught up with Shield and missions and hydra that he forgot that he was past that part of his life; he didn’t have to worry about hydra, shield and missions weren’t his day and night anymore but (Y/N) was, his family was.
“I know baby,” Bucky sighs as he breaks away, rubbing at his forehead as he does. “I need to resign, I need to do something-”
“Don’t do anything you don’t want to do, I don’t want you to feel like you have to give up shield for us-”
“But I want to,” Bucky hangs his head, sighing once again. “I want to leave that chapter of my life behind. It’s like I’m stuck on the same damn page twenty four seven and I hate it. You guys are my new chapter, I just need to stop going back and rereading the last ones…” (Y/N) smiles softly as she reaches out, holding Bucky gently.
“Then take a break, stay at home, learn how to cook, fix our tub and walls-”
“I thought you said no more renovations for me?” Bucky smiles just a bit, one quirk of his lip is all.
“Mh, I’ve changed my mind, plus if you’re going to be here all the time you’re going to need to learn how to do some work,” Bucky chuckles as he holds (Y/N), a sweetly almost earthy sound filling the air.
“You’re rude to me,”
“Yeah I am,” (Y/N) smiles as she gently kisses Bucky’s bare chest. “And you love me for it,” (Y/N) pulls away, taking Bucky by the hand as she gently guides him down the stairs and into their kitchen.
“Yeah, unfortunately I do,” (Y/N) gasps, feigning hurt as she clutches at her heart.
“I’m hurt, wounded,” Bucky chuckles as he wraps his arms back around (Y/N)’s waist, smiling as he squeezed them gently. “No, stop, I’m mad at you,” (Y/N) laughs as Bucky nuzzles his scruffy face in the crook of her neck, tickling her gently. “Bucky, stop, we have to make breakfast!” (Y/N) whispers harshly to the soldier but her smile betrayed her tone.
“If you keep yellin’ like that you’re gonna wake the kids up,”
“Yeah, and it’ll be your fault-” (Y/N) smiles as she waddles towards their fridge, dragging Bucky with her as he refused to let go of her waist. “I thought you said you were helping,” (Y/N) smirks as she reaches for the milk and eggs, holding them both in one hand while the other retrieved a small pack of bacon.
“I am,” Bucky chuckles as he grips (Y/N)’s hips gently.
“Then get me some flour and salt,” Bucky smiles as he presses a kiss to (Y/N)’s cheek before sauntering off to retrieve all the necessary items for waffles.
Bucky’s hand stalls as he reaches for a bag of sugar- He stared at the metal plating, stained with years of wear and tear, bodily fluids, and plenty of chalk and paint from both Steve and his children. It didn’t seem like too long ago when he’d used that same hand to choke innocent victims, it didn’t seem like years ago when one day a certain woman came up to him, held his hand, and begged him to help her. That’s how he had met (Y/N). She was being followed by a few shady men and she came to Bucky’s side for comfort. She didn’t even know him, he looked like an ex con for fucks sake and yet she still took his hand and begged for help. He remembered looking into those shining eyes of hers and feeling his heart clench as he was met with a fearful gaze. She begged him to pretend to be her boyfriend, which he gladly did.
They had walked around, stopped at a cafe, talked, and eventually stopped at Central Park. Bucky was having such a fantastic time that he didn’t even notice when the men stopped following the two of them, and apparently so did (Y/N).
“They stopped,” (Y/N) had whispered as she looked around the park. “Oh my god, thank you so much Bucky, thank you so, so, so much. How can I repay you?”
“How about a real date, one where we don’t have to worry about men following us around?” Bucky knew it was a long shot, he was the infamous winter soldier after all, there was no way (Y/N) would ever agree-
“I’d love that,” (Y/N) had whispered, giving his hand a good squeeze. It was in that moment Bucky realized for the first time in forever he wasn’t scared. He wasn’t afraid he was going to hurt (Y/N), he wasn’t afraid that hydra was lurking around the corner, he wasn’t afraid of what the next mission would be, for once he could finally just be.
“Buck, I need that sugar,” (Y/N) smiled tenderly at Bucky as she held a whisk in her hand, parts of it dripping in thick batter.
Bucky clears his throat as he reaches for the sugar, snatching it up before handing it to (Y/N).
(Y/N) had given him a second chance. He had been a broken shell, something of the man he once used to be but when (Y/N) showed up the pieces slowly started to fall back into place. He didn’t feel so scared anymore, he slowly adopted the old Bucky Barnes back into his life, the fun, playful, loving one that everyone had missed so much. (Y/N) had given him a second chance at life.
“Daddy!” Three high pitched voices break him away from his thoughts. Three pairs of feet hit the hardwood as Bucky’s kids come barreling after him; Elizabeth, Collin, and Ben. Ben and Collin were his first two kids, twins, and Elizabeth was the youngest, daddy’s princess.
All three kids latch onto Bucky immediately, shouting happily as they climb all over him. Bucky laughs as he picks up Elizabeth and Ben, letting Collin climb (more like
Jump) up onto his back.
“Yeah, yeah, daddy missed you too you goofballs,”
“Daddy, I drew you a bunch of pictures!” Elizabeth cries happily, pointing to the fridge with a small finger. Bucky looks surprised as he looks at them, smiling widely when Elizabeth giggles.
“They’re beautiful baby,”
“Daddy! I finally hit our baseball into that meadow!”
“Did you now?” Bucky looks at Ben, who was looking up at his father adoringly.
“Oh yes he did, he went in to retrieve it and I couldn’t find him for half an hour,” Bucky laughs as (Y/N) continues to whisk and fold the batter.
“And Collin,” Bucky tilted his head backwards, smiling at his son. “What have you been up to Buddy?”
“Mommy’s been teaching me how to read big boy books!”
“Yes!” Colin smiles excitedly.
“That’s so cool!”
“Yeah!” Collin nods as he wraps his arms around Bucky’s head, making it impossible to see anything.
“Kids, why don’t you go play on the swing and daddy will come play once breakfast is almost done?” The children squeal happily as they jump off Bucky, rushing to the back door and out into their endless backyard.
Bucky smiles fondly as he watches them scurry off, his heart clenching just a bit. Years ago he never would have believe he’d settle down, get married, have a family, he had been too dangerous for that but here he was, making breakfast for his wife and children and in his own home too, not some tower or sanctuary, his own home with rooms and a kitchen and a backyard.
Bucky can feel the tears burn at his eyes but he ignores them for now. Instead he wraps his arms around (Y/N) once again as his lips find purchase on her temple.
“Thank you,” Bucky whispers hoarsely, making it obvious he was on the verge of tears. (Y/N) immediately looks at him, her beautiful eyes shrouded in worry.
“What for?” Bucky smiles gently as he rubs his nose against (Y/N)’s, inhaling her comforting scent deeply.
So it's obvious that trying to knock people out is mostly unrealistic and often times lethal. But what about when someone is tired from their injuries? Is there a difference between passing out and being knocked out? Where's the line? Can trauma from head hits not knock someone out, but result in passing out? Can being knocked out for more than a few seconds be bad news, but passing out for hours just be regenerative, and if so what would cause that distinction to physically manifest?
The distinction between passing out and knocking out is very simple:
1) Passing Out: Your body is so tired that it can’t go on.
2) Knocking Out: Someone else is traumatically forcing your brain to rapidly shut itself off by convincing it that its dying.
When you’re talking about hitting someone in the head as opposed to strangulation, this generally means a concussion. They have hit your head so hard your brain has bruised itself against the inside of your skull and you have now gone unconscious. When you punch someone in the head, you have zero control over what actually happens to them. You can hope, but you can’t control it. In comparison to a choke hold, where you have almost total control over their body and can feel for the moment they go limp (and a mistake is still going to potentially end their life), it isn’t worth it as a tactical choice.
Humans are persistence predators, they can go and go and go for a very long time. You have to work pretty hard to physically exhaust them to the point where they’ll collapse on the battlefield. Their brain/body will usually stop them long before that point arrives. When you’re talking about combat, they’re far more likely to die before they ever reach a point of total exhaustion. We’re talking days without rest, the kind you’re only ever likely to encounter in mass battles or with a character who is being hunted.
The truth is that if you see a character who has been consistently knocked out multiple times on screen, they’d either be suffering from serious damage to their brains or dead. Most of them would be dead. If you ever feel like testing the theory out, go check out the late life prospects for boxers and football players who’ve sustained several concussions over the course of their careers.
The whole “knock someone out to get rid of them” is a Hollywood trope built for narrative convenience. The actual process of physically subduing someone is long, drawn out, and takes a great deal more energy and effort than a one, two punch or a knife to the gut.
The “Knocking Out” Contrivance in media acts like character death but without the audience having to evaluate the protagonist’s morals or the narrative’s values. They maintain their “good guy” street cred, and the audience doesn’t have to ask the questions. We switch easily from one scene to the next without any of the hoopla. The audience gets their action sequence and no one needs to feel bad. It’s a bloodless death. Or it’s a scene transition, or someone’s been taken prisoner without the author having to figure out how they move tie them up, move them, and get them from Point A to Point B. (Nevermind that it’s actually much harder to move dead weight than it is someone who is conscious.)
No, yeah, it is.
It’s there for shock value when the protagonist is taken prisoner.
Still, if you want to use this narrative contrivance in your story you can. No one will stop you. The vast majority of general audiences won’t question it. Judging by the number of questions we’ve received about this topic alone, people do commonly think the knockout genuinely works as a tactic for subduing the enemy. However…
The “Knockout” is prevalent in media because it is a convenient narrative tool.
If you’ve got a burning need to use it then use it, just don’t sit there and try to say it’s “realistic” or safe after the fact. It isn’t. Accept the narrative knockout for the bit of smoke and mirrors it is, and move forward.
It’s part of a collection of tropes that I like to call “Feel Good Violence”. They have no relationship to reality or responsibility, but they’ll make the audience feel good and the character seem powerful. It is “Feel Good”.
So, that’s it. I have nothing more to say that we haven’t covered in previous posts about head injuries. Unless @scriptmedic has anything they’d like to add, we’re done with the topic for now.
Summary: The next morning (after the events of “Beard Burn”), Steve’s girlfriend returns the favor ;)))
A/N: this is intended as the sequel to Beard Burn! Yay! Look i finished something that i promised i would do! Thanks again all you beautiful people for getting “Beard Burn” over 1k notes. That’s crazy,,,
Warnings: all smut, some fluff. oral sex (mr), language
(I should have used this gif for the first one dammit)
The next morning, you wake before Steve, eyes fluttering open against the annoying morning sun; you’d forgotten to close the blinds last night. You groan and roll over onto your back, hitting Steve, who immediately wraps an arm around your stomach. You glance up at him, expecting to find him awake, but he’s still fast asleep on his side, one arm bunched under his pillow, the other now lazily thrown across your stomach. You smile and reach a hand up to run through his beard. He looked so cute like this, his mouth open, lightly snoring, eyes squeezed shut against the sun.
Prompt: She was the sun and he was the moon. She was light and he was darkness. She was love and he was incapable of it.
Relationship: Mitch Rapp x Reader
Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Cum on Face/Body, Titty Fuck, Fingering, Swearing, Violence, Rough Sex, Fluffy Sex, Badass!Reader, Multiple Descriptive Deaths, and Unprotected Sex (Cover your stump before you hump).
Word Count: 7,833 (I decided to write two different smut scenes in this one fic and it’s so worth it because one’s hella hot and the other’s super emotional)
A/N: Ever since the trailer came out, my fingers have been itching to write something about Mitch Rapp but I just couldn’t come up with any ideas. And then Jaymes Young released this single from the heavens above (God bless) and inspiration hit me like a fucking truck.
P.s. This is definitely in my top 5 favorite fics I’ve ever written and I really hope you guys like it as much as I do.
With a mixture of determination inside of anger (and even lust), Mitch Rapp let out a strangled grunt as he tackled (Y/N) onto the ground for the millionth time tonight. It’s been hours since he started training her and by the look of exhaustion on her face, he could tell she was incredibly sick of it. Her face was scrunched up and she bit down on her bottom lip, but not in the way he was used to seeing when he was slamming into her and fucking the gorgeous girl senseless. She was tired and annoyed, her features scrunching up because she was in pain and her lip being tugged in between her teeth to keep from yelling at the man hovering over her.
“Come, on (Y/N).” Mitch sighed when she gave a pathetic attempt of getting him off of her. “It’s like you’re not even trying.”
“That’s because I’m not. I’m tired and I just want this to be over already.” She retorted, not even hiding her temper. The usually bubbly and happy girl was irritated and sore, beyond ready to take a soothing shower to relax all of her aching muscles.
“Well, if this were a real fight your wishes would’ve certainly been granted by now.” He replied, not making any effort to get off of her.
“Really?” She asked.
“Yes, because you’d be dead.”
“Fighting back is too hard.” She groaned, letting her head fall onto the floor as she shut her eyelids in an attempt to rest. “Maybe I’d be better off dead considering it requires less work.”
“Hey, open your eyes.” Mitch stated, getting a hold of her chin in his calloused hand and she reluctantly obliged. “Being dead is not the better option and you know it. Now, defend yourself and push me off of you.”
“I can’t.” (Y/N) shook her head, sighing. “I’m too tired.”
“This isn’t a suggestion. This is an order.” The assassin commanded, a stream of lust rushing through her body as an immediate reaction. “Do as I say, (Y/N).”
“I’m not one of your recruits, Mitch.” The young woman bit down on her lip and he instantly noticed the lustful meaning behind it. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Princess, I already am.” Rapp smirked, his dick straining against his boxers at the sight of her continuing to chew on her bottom lip. “Push. Me. Off.”
(Y/N) shook her head as a smirk appeared on her mouth and it made Mitch’s heart stop from how alluring she looked. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips plump and swollen, her eyes playful as they stared up at him, her soft hair sprawled out on the floor and even the sweat accumulated on her forehead made her glow beautifully. He has yet to admit it and there’s a good chance he never will, but this girl beneath him had Mitch completely wrapped around her finger.
After Katrina, his entire world fell apart. His first love’s death ended up creating a gaping hole inside of Rapp’s heart. He tried to heal himself with anything he could find, but his wound just continued to bleed. Food, alcohol, drugs, sex, violence and eventually revenge were different ways the young man seeked to bandage himself up. But, the bleeding still managed to ooze through. That is, until he met her.
(Y/N) waltzed into his life unexpectedly and did the one thing he couldn’t even do for himself. Without knowing it, she reached into his wounds and pulled the core of the pain that was holding him to his dreadful past out and destroyed it, showing Rapp how to make peace and find the balance he was so desperately looking for.
“You need to stop biting your lip or you’ll find yourself getting fucked mercilessly by me in a matter of seconds.” Mitch warned her, (Y/N)’s core already drenching her laced panties. “So, unless you want that, you need to stop biting your fucking lip.”
She didn’t say anything, she just prepared herself for the intense fun that was about to come as she stared him straight in the eye and bit her lip one last time.
Mitch immediately snapped and his mouth was crashing on hers in seconds, just like he promised. He lifted himself slightly so he could open her legs before him and fit himself in between them as her hands flew to his long and silky hair, her lips deepening their passionate kiss so she could push her tongue inside of his warm mouth. (Y/N) couldn’t hold back her moans at how skillful and dominant he was with his tongue, glad that they were already on the floor and she didn’t have to worry about falling down from how weak her knees felt. When they both needed to breathe, Rapp bit down on her bottom lip (because he had been wanting to do that all night) and pulled before completely letting go for their lungs to catch the air they were begging for.
His hands flew to the over sized shirt she was wearing, that just so happened to be his, and didn’t even think twice before effortlessly ripping it apart. A gasp emitted from her throat and he simply smirked before lifted her back off of the floor to reach behind and unclasp her bra, he would’ve happily torn that apart as well but he knew she wouldn’t like it. After pulling down the straps, (Y/N)’s bra was flung across his apartment and neither one of them cared enough to see where it could’ve possibly landed.
Mitch’s lips instantly wrapped around one of her breasts, his tongue flicking her perky nipple, and (Y/N) arched her body into his bare chest. She immediately moaned when she felt his hard bulge poke the inside of her thigh and she knew that from how turned on they both were, this would be over faster than it even started. Just as Rapp bit down on her nipple and a strangled whimper fell from her lips, one of (Y/N)’s hands moved to the hem of his sweatpants and pulled at it so that her other hand could push past both it and his boxers. As soon as her hand wrapped around his erection, Mitch hummed in appreciation against her breast causing vibrations to immediately shoot throughout her entire body and land in her aching core.
(Y/N) tightened her grip on him before slowly pumping Mitch’s shaft and he had to actually stop giving (Y/N) her share of pleasure because there was so much of it flooding inside of him that he couldn’t concentrate. Mitch rested his head on her bare chest and allowed her to continue working on him, occasionally thrusting his hips into her hand to let her know he wanted her to move a little faster. The sight of him drowning in his own desire in front of her was enough to make (Y/N) come undone right there, but she held back as much as she could. It was when Mitch moaned again against her that she knew she needed him fucking her as soon as possible.
“Mitch, I need you baby.” She mewled and the young man’s cock twitched at the sound alone.
Even though his body screamed at him for it, he placed his hand on her arm and pulled her grip off of his cock. But, she managed to swipe up the leaking precum from his tip before he did and she instinctively brought the salty liquid up to her mouth, gladly sucking on her finger. Rapp’s own finger traced down her stomach to the hem of her soaking panties and even though her body was extremely heated and sweaty from their training session, his touch left goosebumps on her skin. Pulling down her panties with both of his hands and placing it on the floor beside them, the next to go were his sweatpants followed by his boxers.
(Y/N)’s eyes fell to the dark hair below his stomach before they trailed down to his erection, the sight of Mitch’s red and swollen tip making her lick her lips. The assassin’s hands gripped harshly onto her thighs and spread them apart before lining himself at her entrance and slamming in without giving her as much as a warning. (Y/N) screamed in response, her body arching up, and Mitch didn’t even wait for her to adjust before already thrusting into her warmth. It was a good thing she was incredibly lubricated from how turned on she was as he fucked her rapidly, both seeking their release as fast as they could.
Rapp looked down at her bouncing tits then to their connecting bodies and moaned at the delicious sight, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in pleasure. (Y/N)’s own eyes were shut tight as she concentrated on the orgasm she knew would soon be arriving. Even though the sound of his skin slapping against hers was loud and wet, (Y/N) surprisingly loved the feeling of his balls slamming against her ass repeatedly along with the familiar and amazing feeling of his thick width stretching her tight walls. Knowing she was undoubtedly close to her peak, Mitch brought one of his hands down to her clit and began rubbing furiously in sync with his pounding. (Y/N) immediately screamed, the overwhelming pleasure too much on her and in a matter of seconds a flash of heat spread throughout her. He continued pressing, circling and flicking her nub and she couldn’t find the will to stop the pornographic noises that rose in her throat from escaping as she dissolved into his skilled hand.
It took everything Rapp had in him not to cum right when she did and clenched around him, his self control insanely impressive. The moment she finished getting down from her high and gripped onto his shoulders to tell him to stop, Mitch did and ignored the throbbing in his dick as he pulled out. Pushing away the sleepiness that threatened to take over her from just having a mind blowing orgasm, (Y/N) grabbed his hips and guided Rapp to place his cock wet with her juices in between her breasts. He understood what she was offering him and he smiled smugly at her. The beautiful woman pressed her breasts together around him to create a tighter environment and he began to thrust. From the mixture of how good it felt to fuck in between her breasts, watch her close her eyes and bite down on her extremely swollen lips, and the fact that he was already near his orgasm, it didn’t take long for Mitch to reach it.
After a few quick thrusts, his tip released hot cum as his body accepted the unbelievable pleasure that came with it. (Y/N) was caught by surprise when his liquid coated not only her chest, but her chin and a bit even managed to reach her bottom lip. However, she certainly didn’t hate it. Actually quite the opposite, to be exact. As Rapp came back down from his euphoria, she licked her bottom lip and enjoyed his taste on her tongue.
Bringing his hand over to his torn short on the floor, Mitch used the leftover fabric to clean up the mess he created on her body. She smiled up at him at his sudden kindness, but failed to notice the light blush painting his cheeks. The warmth she caused on his skin similar to the warmth she sparked inside of him. Mitch Rapp was a cold, distant and emotionless man before her. His entire purpose was to destroy and kill, never feeling the need to go beyond that. However, (Y/N) went out of her way to show him he wasn’t just a weapon nor a machine, but an actual human. She was the sun that brightened his life when he didn’t even know what light looked like anymore. She shined on him and, Mitch being the moon, he reflected the light she gave him.
The heartbreaking part is he will never allow himself to accept the fact that he was falling for her thanks to his concern of not being able to get back up. It’s not that she won’t catch him, he’s certain she would, it’s the fact that as his feelings for her grow so does his fear of losing her. That’s the biggest problem about loving someone: the vulnerability. As soon as someone becomes an important part of your life, it’s agonizing to know that they can be snatched away at any moment.
That’s why Mitch Rapp doesn’t do love because he doesn’t tolerate chance or risks. He’s an assassin and he’s trained to be objective, analytical, cold, and logical. All things love does not consist of.
“Alright,” Mitch cleared his throat, standing from the floor and picking up his clothes. “Five minute break and then we’re back to training.”
“What?!” (Y/N) exclaimed, immediately sitting up as he dressed himself.
“You heard me.” Rapp stated, walking over to where he spotted her bra and tossed it to her. “You had your break, now it’s time to get back to work.”
“Mitch, I don’t want to train anymore.” She disagreed, but put on both her panties and bra nonetheless.
“I don’t care.” He shrugged. “We’re not finishing until you get it right.”
(Y/N) knew that there was no point in trying to get herself out of this one, Mitch was too persistent. She simply sighed before walking over to his bedroom and approaching his wardrobe to grab a shirt and leggings out of the drawer that was specifically separated for her clothes. She heard the sound of his feet patting against the hardwood floor as he also entered his bedroom and made his way over to his bed to grab the shirt that was laying amongst the sheets. In complete silence, the two finished dressing themselves before Rapp turned around to look at her as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Do I at least have time to take a quick shower?” (Y/N) asked, slightly annoyed.
“What’s the point if you’re just gonna get sweaty again?” Mitch questioned and she immediately huffed, walking back out into the living room. He sensed he had said something that ticked her off, but he couldn’t exactly understand what or why.
“What is it?” He asked, following her.
“Nothing.” She shook her head, pulling the hair tie on her wrist off so she could put her messy hair up in a ponytail. “Let’s just get this over with already.”
“Fine by me.” Mitch shrugged.
The moment she finished fixing her hair, the assassin charged towards her. (Y/N) immediately reacted and dodged his first attempt to wrap his strong arms around her shoulder, but failed when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. Using his free hand, Rapp grabbed her other wrist and she groaned when she realized she couldn’t use her hands anymore. Forcing her to use another method of defense and she instantly turned her body so her back was against his chest and his hands were twisted awkwardly, making it hard for him to be the one with the edge. She thought she had it all figured out until Mitch, suddenly, used the situation he was in to his advantage and locked her into his hold by pressing his arms against her chest and forcing his on her back.
“Okay, okay!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “You made your point, I’ll use another tactic. Let me out.”
“No, you never know what awful situation you’ll find yourself in.” Rapp stated. “Get yourself out.”
With anger striking inside of her, (Y/N) used her elbow to nudge it into his stomach and her lover immediately grunted in reaction. The small distraction was enough to allow her to free herself and she smiled proudly when she did.
“See? You can do this.” Mitch smirked, rubbing the area she just hurt before approaching the kitchen and pulling out a knife from its stand. “Here.” He said, handing her the knife. “Attack me.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” (Y/N) sighed, looking up at him with narrow eyes.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Just, do it.” Rapp commanded. “I’ll be fine, you won’t hurt me.”
“I know I won’t hurt you. It’s me I’m worried about.” She explained, the knife being awkwardly held in her hand. “What if I slip up and cut myself?”
“I won’t let that happen.” Mitch spread his feet and planted them on the floor. “Now, come on.”
(Y/N) took a deep breath, then, rushed towards him with the knife raised in the air. She tried to attack him through a surprising angle, but being the expert that he is, Mitch easily saw it coming. Effortlessly knocking her arm with his, the knife fell to the ground and the sound of the metal loudly clanging against the hardwood floor echoed through the room. (Y/N) expected Mitch to stop there and show her what she had done wrong, but instead he grabbed her waist and slammed her up against the nearest wall. The air in her lungs instantly being knocked out from the sudden force as her head harshly hit the wall and she didn’t even try to hide how it hurt her.
“Seriously?” Rapp scoffed. “That was the stupidest method you could’ve used. Anyone in there right mind would’ve seen it coming.”
“Get off of me.” She demanded, pushing his arms off of her body but failing.
“No, listen to me-”
“No, you listen to me, Mitch.” (Y/N) angrily interrupted, pushing his arms again and this time he actually let go. “I’m tired and I’m sore. You just fucking hurt me and didn’t even notice it because you’re too obsessive with this shit.”
“I’m sorry.” He apologized, genuinely upset with himself for causing her pain. “But you have to learn.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t want to learn to be an assassin like you.”
It was a simple comment, never made to hurt him and, yet, it did. Mitch was slightly taken aback, but managed to clear his throat before speaking in favor of his case.
“I’m not teaching you to be an assassin.” He stated. “I’m teaching you to defend yourself in case you ever need to.”
“Why would I need to?” (Y/N) questioned loudly. “I’m not constantly in dangerous situations like you.”
But you could be. Mitch thought to himself, considering the possibilities of his enemies ever finding out that his biggest weakness was the girl standing right before him.
“Jesus Christ, Mitch, I’m a wedding planner!” She continued, now pacing the area in front of him. “I promote love, not violence!”
“You’re not promoting violence!” Mitch responded, now shouting along with her. “You just have to be safe! Because I don’t want anything to ha-”
The assassin instantly stopped himself before he could go any further. But, (Y/N) certainly wasn’t having any of it. Mitch Rapp was about to say something he felt for the first time since they met and she wasn’t about to let this moment slip away.
“Anything to what?!” She questioned, taking a step towards him. “Finish your sentence, Mitch.”
Frustration boiled inside of her when he refused to say anything, instead his hard eyes remained on hers as her blood heated up. (Y/N) was tired of this lifestyle they had together where he denied any bit of feelings towards her and they pretended like that was okay. She knew he was a hard person to crack, but she also knew that deep down he definitely felt something for her. Every question she’s ever had about them invaded her thoughts all at once and she seriously thought her head would explode. Until, finally, her temper and patience did.
“What are we?” She asked, feeling small and vulnerable. However, once again, Rapp failed to speak. “Mitch!”
His problem solving abilities searched through every bit of knowledge he had achieved over the years in order to fix this, but his mind couldn’t find anything to help him. This wasn’t the type of issue that could be solved logically or without any emotion and Mitch was terrified of it. On one hand, he could tell her the truth about his love for her (but that means starting a relationship with her which could end up getting her killed) or he could just lie.
As much as it pained him, Mitch Rapp chose the second option.
“Nothing.” He stated, watching as she shattered into pieces. “We’re nothing.”
“So, you’re telling me that every night we spend together wrapped into each other’s arms is nothing?” (Y/N) began, not caring that he could see tears now streaming down her cheeks. “Or how I have a drawer in your wardrobe specifically for my clothes since I’m constantly here with you because we’re nothing? You’re telling me that my definition of home no longer being a place, but actually being you is a result of nothing?”
Mitch only thought of his answers and didn’t dare say them, the main one consisting of: Of course not, there’s no way you could be just nothing when you’re everything to me.
“Mitch, I need you to be honest with me. Please, don’t hold back.” She requested, her heart beating faster in fear of the answer to the question she was about to ask. “Am I just an easy fuck to you?”
His cold heart sunk into his stomach and was instantly consumed by the agonizing acid, the pain he felt from her incorrect assumption greater than any broken bone or bullet wound he’s ever received. Mitch didn’t have the capacity to respond and (Y/N) interpretated the tense silence as an answer.
She was well aware that Rapp believed he was incapable of love and, in the time they spent together, she desperately tried to show him he was wrong. And, yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough, she thought.
With a heavy heart, (Y/N) walked over to the door to his apartment and put on her shoes that were resting on the welcome mat. As soon as she finished, she opened the front door and looked back at him one last time.
“Mitch, I know you’re not whole after everything that’s ever happened to you.” She sobbed. “But, you can’t fix yourself by breaking me.”
(Y/N) didn’t even bother staying to hear what he could possibly say, if he even had it in him to say anything at all, she simply walked out of the door as Mitch watched her leave. The thing about this girl is that she somehow managed to open the door to his heart again, only to end up closing her own because of him. Rapp was like a deadly virus and he knew it.
The uncontrollable tears escaped her eyes as (Y/N) exited the apartment complex and reached into her pocket to find her cellphone with the intent of calling for an Uber when she realized she was wearing leggings and had left her phone inside of Mitch’s. There was no way she was turning back now and getting it, she’d much rather buy a new one than ever have to go through facing him again. Walking towards any direction, not really caring where she was headed to, (Y/N) sobbed loudly in the dark and lonely streets. A gust of cold wind flew against her and danced on her skin, the young woman shivering in response. However, the shivering because of the cold was nothing compared to the shaking she was about to feel in a matter of seconds.
When (Y/N) least expected it, a loud sound of tires screeching against the asphalt of the road snatched her attention and she turned towards the source. Suddenly, a black car stopped right in front of her and a set of two incredibly large men rushed out of it and charged at her. A mixture of fear and adrenaline attacked her body before they could. (Y/N) immediately moved into action and turned around to run away, but one of the attackers wrapped his strong arms around her. She knew she wasn’t equipped enough to fight them off, now regretting ever disagreeing with Mitch about him training her, and the only chance she had of surviving would be to escape. Just like she did a few minutes ago, (Y/N) pushed her elbow into the stomach of the person holding her but much harder this time. The man gasped when the air was knocked out of him and loosened his grip enough for her to slip out.
Just when she thought she could run away, the other man grabbed her waist and she screamed loudly when he pulled her back towards them. (Y/N) didn’t know what to do next, but she knew that she was absolutely terrified. Her mind immediately thinking about Mitch and all of the times he told her: You can’t rely on other people to swoop in and save you, you have to save yourself. And (Y/N) cried and struggled in the stranger’s grasp, but she knew she couldn’t save herself. It was too late.
The man grabbed her wrists and held it behind her back, pulling out a zip tie from his pocket and locking her hands together. The one she hit had finally managed to recompose himself and, as she screamed at the top of her lungs, he put a dark pillowcase over her head. Everything immediately going to black.
Mitch Rapp paced his living room, constantly running his hand through his strands of dark hair. If this were a cartoon he certainly would’ve created a hole in the hardwood floor by now.
He hated himself for letting her believe she was nothing but a fuck toy to him and how he just let her walk away. He despised that he didn’t know how to deal with the insane amount of emotions pooling inside of him. But, mainly, Rapp loathed that he couldn’t love her the way she deserved to be loved.
I have to go after her. Mitch thought to himself, rushing towards his bedroom to switch out of his sweatpants and into regular blue jeans. The biggest problem was he had no idea where she could’ve possibly gone. It’s been about twenty minutes since she stormed out which meant she could be anywhere at this point.
An idea struck into his mind and Rapp immediately approached his cellphone on the bed side table, pressing on her contact number and calling her. His nerves danced on his skin as he listened to the rings and waited impatiently for her to pick up when he, suddenly, heard another phone ringing in his bedroom. The sound was muffled and hard to locate its source, but Mitch eventually did. Finding (Y/N)’s cell tangled into the sheets of his bed, his mind realizing she had left without grabbing it first. Rapp let out a groan of frustration before ending the call and throwing his phone on the bed with hers.
There was only one option left: go to her house and hope to God she went there after their fight. Mitch got his car keys and a loaded gun, because the man never left the house without being armed, before slipping on his shoes and walking out of his door. His foot unexpectedly stepped on something new and the sound of crumpling paper stopped him in his tracks. Looking down to the floor, he realized there was a letter made out of cut out magazine parts on his doormat. Rapp’s curiosity took over and the young man bent down, grabbing the piece of paper. His eyes immediately widened when he realized his name was on it.
Mitch Rapp, it’s your life in exchange for hers. You can still save (Y/N).
Normally, the assassin would be calm and strategical in a dangerous situation, but he has never faced one quite like this. His breath hitched in his throat and his hands began to shake at the thought of the one thing he was terrified of actually happening. He knew what this was about, he knew this was a gang of terrorists he certainly pissed off and were now going after him. And Rapp knew he could easily kill every single one of them thanks to his alarming amount of skills, yet, he couldn’t help feeling scared.
His mind instantly pictured (Y/N) terrified in the warehouse of the address Mitch recognized under the threat. He felt sick as he imagined the horrible and disgusting things ways they were probably torturing her to extract information on him. This was the day Mitch Rapp was so afraid of, but he wasn’t going to stand around and do nothing. Without second thought, Mitch decided he was going to give himself up for her.
The assassin quickly ran into his car and sped to the location they held her in. It was a utility warehouse meant for stocking cargo that needed to be shipped internationally. As soon as he arrived, Mitch didn’t even wait before arming his gun and rushing out of his vehicle, shooting the two men that were there waiting for him straight in the head. Mitch Rapp usually had mercy, but certainly not towards the people who dare kidnapped (Y/N). He would do and kill anything to make sure she got out of here safe.
The five men inside of the warehouse immediately jumped when the sudden and loud banging of a door being kicked down echoed through the empty space. (Y/N)’s wet and sore eyes from crying so much searched for the source of the invasion and her heart stopped then melted in her chest when she saw a very angry Mitch Rapp standing in the doorway with his gun held up. It didn’t matter that there was tape stretched across her lips, (Y/N) somehow managed to smile at his arrival and she cried even more.
Rapp’s eyes landed on the girl he loved and rage boiled up inside of him like never before at the sight of her hands tied to a chair, duct tape on her mouth, her ponytail uncharacteristically messy from the amount of times they must’ve pulled on her hair as they forced her around, and her eyes bloodshot. The man was about to ensue hell because they had laid a finger on her and nothing was going to stop his blood lust. Without even saying anything, Mitch’s finger pulled the trigger of his gun and a bullet landed right in the spot in between one of the men’s eyes. The terrorist instantly fell limp to the ground, blood pooling around his dead body.
“One down, four more to go.” Rapp threatened, taking a step towards the remaining men and they began to wonder whether or not this plan was a good one. “Who’s next?”
All of them lifted theirs guns and positioned them in front of Mitch but despite the fact that he had four powerful weapons pointed at him, his only concern was about the crying girl strapped to the uncomfortable chair. It didn’t matter that he was at a serious disadvantage or that this was the exact kind of situation Stan Hurley told him to always avoid getting himself into, Rapp held his position and never faltered.
“Answer my question!” Mitch shouted, his veins bulging against his neck.
“She is next if you don’t put that gun down!” One of the men threatened with a strong foreign accent, lifting (Y/N)’s head up by her hair and placing the cold metal tip of his gun against her temple.
Rapp had more than four bullets in his load and he could easily kill every single one of them in the next minute, but what was to say they wouldn’t kill (Y/N) before their own deaths? As much as he didn’t want to, Mitch dropped his gun down to the ground and kicked it towards the terrorists before lifting his hands up to show them they were unarmed. Another one of them, with his gun still raised, approached Rapp and patted him down to see if he truly was clean and quickly realized he was. The man stuffed his gun in the waistband of his pants and pulled Mitch’s hands behind his back, holding them in place.
“Do you have any idea how much money is on your head?” The one holding (Y/N) captive spoke up, looking at the assassin with a sick smile on his face. “You’re a valuable man, Mitch Rapp.”
“Just let her go.” He demanded, his eyes staring into (Y/N)’s and hers gazing right back at his.
“Hmm, it seems that I owe you an apology for we won’t be able to keep our promise.” The criminal stated and Rapp’s heart stopped instantly. “You see, your precious little girlfriend here surprised us all when she killed one of our own. She must die as well.”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Mitch yelled angrily and desperately, the man holding him struggling to keep him in place. “This is about me! Take me!”
“Mitch, think of how romantic it’ll be!” The man laughed. “The two lovers having their last day on Earth together? It can’t get more poetic than that.”
“I am not here to play your games.” Rapp warned, his anger strong enough to start a war. “Let her live or you’ll regret ever crossing me.”
“I’d like to see you prove it.”
The sentence was enough to spark action inside of him and he instantly went to work without stopping to think about the consequences. Harshly pulling his hands out of the man’s grasp, Mitch quickly turned around and grabbed the terrorist’s gun before he could. Spending only a few seconds to arm it, Rapp pulled the trigger and shot a clean bullet through the bad guy’s heart. The assassin turned around and all hell broke loose.
Fear ran through (Y/N)’s body as she watched the men shoot at each other, but she told herself she needed to be strong. Even though the man holding her, without taking the gun off her temple, leaned down to untie her arms from the chair, (Y/N) somehow convinced herself that she was indeed strong. She didn’t let a single sob or whine erupt from her throat, instead she allowed the man to lift her up and wrap his free hand around her.
“Mitch!” He shouted at the same time that another terrorist’s dead body fell to the ground because of the assassin. “Stop right now!”
Suddenly, the criminal threw his gun on the floor and reached into his belt to pull out a huge and sharp knife. Rapp’s entire body went limp as the terrorist held it up against her exposed neck because he knew, that at this point, there wasn’t much he could do. The gun was one thing, but a knife… a knife was much riskier. The assassin had no other choice than to do everything they asked in a final attempt to make sure she lives.
“Put the gun against your head.” The man commanded and Mitch winced before doing exactly as he said, knowing this could possibly be the way he granted her survival. “Now, pull the trigger.”
(Y/N) screamed at the top of her lungs, the sound muffled by the tape but still incredibly strong and loud. Mitch Rapp looked at her one last time, his eyes glossing over with tears, and he enjoyed his last seconds of life by just gawking at her. Despite the eerie situation that sent chills down any man’s spine, he was calm and felt at peace as he memorized every single feature on her beautiful face. Her eyes he so easily found himself getting lost in, her cheeks that flushed whenever he smiled at her, her button nose that scrunched up every time she was concentrated and her perfect lips that were constantly tugged in between her white teeth were the last things he wanted to see before he saw nothing but absolute darkness.
However, (Y/N) was never going to allow that to happen. Just as Mitch took a deep breath in preparation for what he was about to do, she immediately brought her arm up and knocked the bad guy’s own arm as hard as she could just like Mitch did with her earlier. Because he wasn’t at all expecting it, the man instantly dropped the knife and (Y/N) didn’t even wait before grabbing the arm around her with both of her hands and turning around so she could twist it in a painful angle. The man shouted in agony and the two other men left in the room watched in complete awe, both at a loss for words.
(Y/N) bent down and grabbed the knife from the ground before piercing it into his stomach, immediately taking a step back in shock. It wasn’t enough to kill him like she did with the first guy, but it definitely did buy them some time. Enough time for Mitch to snap out of his trance and swoop in, using the gun in his hand to finish him off. The last remaining terrorist looked around the room that was full of the bodies of his friends and he decided he would try to avenge every single one of them.
Throwing his gun aside and grabbing his own knife, the man charged towards Rapp and (Y/N) shouted for him to notice what was going on. Knowing that he wouldn’t really be able to work well with a gun because they were designed for targets at a distance and considering the man was already dangerously close to Rapp, (Y/N) pulled out the knife from her attacker’s stomach and tossed it to Mitch who easily caught it. Just as the foreigner lifted his hand with the knife in it to kill Mitch, the assassin grabbed his arm with his free hand and used his other one to thrust down onto the man’s wrist causing him to drop his weapon. Without waiting, Rapp instantly lifted his knife again and plunged it through the man’s neck, who fell to the ground and died in a matter of seconds.
The two survivors let out deep breaths as a wave relief hit both of them and washed away all of the stress, agony, anger, and fear they had been feeling since they’re fight at Mitch’s. Time slowed down to watch the two lovers turn around towards one another and run into each other’s comforting arms. Rapp instantly wrapped his arms around her body and she used her own hands to grip onto his black shirt, sobs escaping her throat and tears staining his clothes. However, (Y/N) wasn’t the only one crying for Mitch couldn’t hold back his own tears either. Holding her as tight as he could because he was so afraid of letting go, Rapp placed soft kisses on her head (some of his tears falling down on her hair) as they both wept into each other’s arms.
It wasn’t just about the fact that the two almost died that they felt this way, it was mostly about how (Y/N) and Mitch now realize how stupid their fight was. (Y/N) was thankful for what little self defense he taught her because it ultimately saved her life and Rapp discovered he wasn’t willing to push his feelings back anymore. He wanted to love her fully even if it came with agonizing risks.
“I’m sorry.” (Y/N) spoke up first after she pulled off the tape on her mouth, her voice shakey and unstable. “You were right and I should’ve listened to you. I want to be trained, Mitch. Please teach me.”
“Of course.” He nodded, pulling back slightly so he could place his hand on her cheek and bring her face up to look at him. “And I’m sorry, too. I lied to you, (Y/N). You’re not nothing to me, you’re everything.”
For the second time since she’s been kidnapped, she smiled, both times because of the man currently holding her together. As she looked up at him, Mitch used his thumb to wipe away the tears on her skin and she did the same to him. It was a beautiful sight, the two gazing at each other and confessing through their eyes their love for the other. It didn’t matter what came up next to try to destroy them, (Y/N) and Rapp would fight together, side by side.
Desperate lips smashed together as a mixture of sobs and moans transferred through their mouths. Clothes were long gone on the floor, replaced by their naked limbs tangling within each other on Mitch’s bed. (Y/N)’s back arched in complete pleasure as her love continued to pump two fingers into her soaking wet core, quickly helping her reach the point of no return. Rapp moaned, his voice vibrating her mouth, and his cock twitched against her leg the instant she clenched around his fingers with her orgasm. It was her second of the night, the first one coming right after he used only his tongue to pleasure her.
The moment they realized they were no longer in danger, Mitch and (Y/N) rushed home to be as close as humanly possible. What happened tonight took a serious toll on them. (Y/N) wanted to show him that she loved every single thing about him, no matter how different he was from her, and Rapp desperately needed to show her that he was ready for the love they would share because of how (Y/N) made the once numb man actually feel something again.
“Can you handle one more?” Mitch asked the second she shuddered when he removed his fingers from her highly sensitive core and she slowly nodded.
As Rapp placed his wet fingers into his mouth and happily sucked off her juices from his skin, the young man used his other hand to open the drawer in his bedside table and pull out a condom from its box. (Y/N) took it from him and ripped the package open with her teeth, Mitch watching in awe, before putting it on his hard erection. Removing his fingers from his mouth, Rapp got a hold of his shaft and positioned himself at (Y/N)’s entrance. He gazed into her eyes in a way to ask for permission and she gladly nodded, her own beautiful pupils looking up at the man hovering over her in amusement when she noticed an odd emotion flicker in them.
Mitch lowered his head and looked at their bodies that were about to connect before looking up at her chest rising and falling and, suddenly, felt extremely nervous. He took a deep breath as the back of his eyes started to burn with upcoming tears.
“What’s wrong?” (Y/N) asked, placing her hand on his bare chest to stop his actions. “Are you okay?”
Rapp reluctantly looked up into her eyes and she could see his glossing over, her heart instantly wrenching at the sight.
“I’m scared.” Rapp confessed, feeling insanely small and vulnerable.
Without needing him to explain any further for her to understand nor saying a single word, (Y/N) lifted her head and placed a gentle kiss on his plump lips before deepening it. Their kiss was slow and (Y/N) took her time to show him that she wasn’t going anywhere. It was the type of kiss that mended every single broken thing inside of two people. Warmth spread across their bodies eventually turning into a dangerous fire, yet both felt extremely safe in each other’s arms.
Mitch slowly pushed himself into her core and the two immediately moaned in reaction. (Y/N)’s hands flew to his back and gripped tightly as he stretched her walls and Rapp’s eyes rolled to the back of his head at how incredible she felt around him. Because she was already so overstimulated, Mitch patiently waited for her to give him the go when he entered her completely. Once (Y/N) nodded, her eyes closed in focus, the assassin slowly pulled back and deeply pushed in again. He kept this steady pace and (Y/N)’s heart fluttered against her chest the second she realized that he wasn’t just having sex with her, but making love to her.
When she opened her eyes to gawk at him, he was already staring at her. Rapp’s eyes were wide as he noticed a smile twitch on her lips before she bit down on them. Normally he would think it was the sexiest thing in the world and it’d seduce him immediately, yet at this exact moment Mitch saw it with different eyes. Of course it was still sexy, but all he saw was pure and innocent beauty behind it.
(Y/N)’s nails dug into Rapp’s back and after a few minutes of this deep and slow thrusting, she could sense her fourth orgasm today alone creeping up on her. Mitch brought his hand down to her thigh and moved it to a deeper angle, now hitting her g-spot and that is what ultimately pushed her over the edge. Rapp groaned out when her nails definitely created bruises in his skin before she came back down from her ecstasy.
Mitch stopped and (Y/N) opened her now sleepy eyes to look at him, asking through her features why he had.
“Can you be on top of me?” Rapp asked, the woman’s breath hitching at the feeling of his cock pulsing inside of her sensitive walls.
Pushing his hips so he could pull out of her, (Y/N) sat up on the bed and moved Mitch so he could lay down. Throwing her leg over his body to straddle him, Rapp settled his hands on her waist before closing his eyes in pleasure when she pushed him inside of her by sitting on his dick. Going slow at first, then picking up the pace, (Y/N) gladly helped him reach his own orgasm. Mitch grunted and moaned as she rode him deliciously until she purposely clenched around him and he instantly came undone. The girl watching in complete awe, her lover never looking more beautiful than in this exact moment.
It was said before that (Y/N) had him completely wrapped around her finger, but what wasn’t mentioned is how Mitch Rapp is the one that holds this woman’s heart in his hands. Even though he couldn’t be more wrong, Mitch strongly believes that he is a danger and a burden to her because they were so different. Because he was the moon and she was the sun. Because he was war and she was peace. He was violence and she was love. He was pain and she was happiness. He was was death and she was life. He was darkness and she was light.
However, what Rapp didn’t understand at the moment but (Y/N) would make sure he did in the future was that he wasn’t her destruction like he initially believed to be: He was her salvation.
Of course everyone wants to be the sun to lighten up someone’s life, but it’s also beautiful to be the moon like Mitch Rapp and brighten in the darkest hour.
Hi so I absolutely adore the fics you've posted so far for bmc. It really brings to light the emotions of the characters and it's so well done. If it grabs your fancy, would you consider writing one where Jeremy becomes so delirious (from getting sick or a headache from the squip or something) that he spills all the self-deprecating things the squip told him to say to Michael? It would make my world if that existed, especially in your style of writing. <3
“Is Jeremy here today?”
“Jeremy’s always Heere.” Michael says automatically without looking up from his phone. Where he is currently texting Jeremy. He’s almost forgotten that there are people actually around him when someone hits him across the back of his head. “Ow what the hell, Rich!”
“Don’t even try, you brought that on yourself,” Rich says and the lisp does nothing to diminish the glare he’s got fixed on Michael.
“If anything you brought that pun on yourself!” When Rich looks like he’s going to hit Michael again, or possibly punch him in the throat for better reach, Michael decides the safest thing is probably to just tell him what’s up. “Alright, yeah no, Jeremy stayed home today. I texted him this morning and apparently he’s sick. I’m gonna go see if he needs anything after school so if there’s anything you wanna tell him I can pass the message along.”
“Nah, I was just wondering since I hadn’t seen him even though I’d seen you.” When Michael only looks confused Rich continues, “Dude. You’re pretty much attached at the hip as much as two people who aren’t actually attached at the hip can be.”
“You’re over exaggerating.”
“Oh yeah? Is that right?”
“Yeah that’s right,” Michael says, looking down at his phone again.
“Just out of curiosity,” Rich says with a suspicious air of innocence, “who’s that you’ve been texting?”
“This entire time since I came up to you-”
“I don’t appreciate-”
“and probably the entire day since you found out he won’t be he- at school?”
“Well I can’t just ignore him when he’s sick and miserable now can I?”
Rich’s responding smirk tells him he definitely just rose to a very obvious bait and probably should have just kept his mouth shut.
The thing is, Jeremy doesn’t do well when he’s sick. To start it off, he has no self-awareness or any clue at what warrants a sick day at home so it’s a miracle he actually didn’t come to school only to have Michael drag his sniffling and swaying ass home. Michael just assumes that Mr. Heere most likely was awake and forced Jeremy back to bed before taking off to his brand new job.
Michael doesn’t bother with ringing the doorbell when he gets to Jeremy’s house. He knows the key is under the doormat out front, despite how many times he’s told Jeremy it’s the dumbest place in the world to put the house key (”Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you literally get murdered”, “Michael nobody even gets robbed this part of town!”, “Well there’s a first for everything!”). He unlocks the door, grumbling about safety and mostly lack thereof the entire time before he makes his way up the stairs to Jeremy’s bedroom.
He hear the coughing before he’s even half-way up. He knocks on the door and shouts a quick “Don’t be naked,” purely out of curtesy, before barging in.
“Hey Mich-” Jeremy’s raspy voice is cut-off by wet sounding coughs that tear through his body and forces him to turn over on his side so that he won’t choke.
“Holy shit dude,” Michael says eloquently as he sits down on the bed next to Jeremy’s form. “I got you some cough drops,” he pauses as Jeremy’s cough takes over the conversation yet again, “but I honestly don’t think any cough drops in the world is gonna do shit for you right now.”
“Ugh…” Jeremy looks up at Michael with wet eyes, “dad got me somethin’” he says and makes a gesture in the general direction of his bedside table where a bottle of something Michael presumes is medicine is residing. “It’s meant to like,” he makes a questionable gesture with his hand, “loosen up the crap in my throat, so that it doesn’t get stuck. Which is great and all but in turn means tha I’m coughing up slime every minute.”
“Tell me about it.” Jeremy says with a sigh and rolls onto his back again. Michael reaches out and puts his hand on Jeremy’s sweaty forehead, just to check. He nearly snatches his hand back after half a second and the only thing that stops him is that Jeremy had closed his eyes the second Michael touched him and is now letting out a sigh as if he’s actually remembering to relax for the first time today.
“Dude, you’re burning up.” He feel slightly concerned now. Jeremy had told him he was sick but this is… a lot more than he had let on while texting.
“Mm-hm…” Jeremy says, his eyes are still closed and there’s no actual indication that he’s heard Michael at all. Michael strokes his hand across Jeremy’s forehead and ignores the disgusting feeling of sweat clinging to it. It must feel nice to get something cool touching his hot skin.
“Hey Jeremy,” he says as he strokes his thumb up the bridge of Jeremy’s nose, “I’m gonna go get some damp towels so you can cool down a bit, yeah?” and so he can get rid of some of that gross-ass sweat currently covering Jeremy’s body as far as he can see. Jeremy seems to have tossed his blanket practically across the bedroom at some point to alleviate some of the heat but even in nothing but a tank-top and boxers he looks like he’s going to boil from the inside-out. When he comes back with four smaller towels and a bowl of cold water Jeremy hasn’t opened his eyes and Michael thinks he might’ve fallen asleep. He arranges one of the towels over Jeremy’s eyes and the latter lets out a sigh of immense relief. “Does your head hurt, Jer?”
“Why’re you being so nice…” Jeremy’s voice is weak and it sounds like it hurts to talk. Michael frowns at the words.
“When am I ever mean to you?” He asks with a scoff.
“You’re just always nice even after what I did.” Michael has to swallow down an automatic feeling of dread. Any reminder of the Squip usually has that affect.
“We’re past that, Jeremy.” He keeps his voice quiet so he still sounds calm and not at all like his heart is beating out of his chest.
“I still hear him sometimes.” The words are so simple, and said so softly but it still seems like Jeremy is screeching, as though he’s calling out for help.
“What do you mean?” He desperately tries to keep his voice calm as he sits down next to Jeremy, he wishes he hadn’t put a towel over half of Jeremy’s face now, wishes he could see what’s going on with Jeremy’s facial expression.
“I keep trying to-” Jeremy has to pause for a second as his voice breaks, “I just want to be better than what he said I was.”
“Jeremy whatever he said it-” Michael’s words are interrupted by Jeremy who seemingly isn’t done.
“He would always tell me how terrible I was, how I was gross and how everyone else thought so too…” Michael grabs Jeremy’s hand and squeezes it, unsure what else to do. “Fuck he was right. He was always right.”
“That’s not true…” Michael whispers shifting so that he’s sitting closer to Jeremy, still squeezing his hand tight.
“I still hear him, and- and sometimes I forget I don’t have to listen anymore!” Jeremy’s voice is shaky and Michael knows he’s crying, “I keep forgetting I don’t have to say it too.”
“What do you mean?” Michael doesn’t want to know, but if Jeremy needs to talk he’ll listen, he’ll always listen.
“He’d make me say things-things about myself…” comes the delayed response and this time Michael listens to the urge that’s telling him to remove the towel from Jeremy’s eyes, his headache be damned. He won’t let Jeremy get so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t remember he isn’t alone. Jeremy blinks his eyes open, and Michael notices right away that he was right. Jeremy’s eyes are red and the second the towel is off his eyes start to water and he looks so frightened and so small that Michael wants nothing more than to take all of the bad, horrible things the Squip told him and make them disappear. He knows he can’t though, the best he can do is just sit there, and hold Jeremy’s hand.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he says softly and brings Jeremy’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the sweaty palm, “but I’m here, okay? I’m right here, and I’m listening.” Michael can’t be sure if his words do any good as Jeremy only seems to cry harder, but Jeremy needs to know he’s not alone. It takes a few minutes but after a while Jeremy seems to calm down enough to continue.
“Everything about me makes me wanna die.” Jeremy sniffs and fresh tears spring to his eyes and all Michael can do is gather Jeremy up in his arms and hold him close. “He’d make me repeat that…” Jeremy continues, “and I didn’t- I felt it. He just took things I already thought and felt and made me- I want him gone!” Michael’s heart breaks as Jeremy’s ramble ends in a wail, “I want him gone I want him- he’s still- Michael!” Jeremy sobs and grabs at the front of Michael’s shirt.
“I’m here. It’s gonna be okay. He can’t do shit anymore. He-it’s just a voice and it’s awful and I hate it but that’s all it is. it can’t do shit to you anymore.” Even as he says it he isn’t sure if it’s true. With Jeremy still sobbing in his arms, he feels powerless and wonders silently if the Squip isn’t already doing shit, or if he’s just done enough damage to last Jeremy a lifetime.
He pushes the thought away and squeezes Jeremy tighter.
Summary: Like I say ti @amrita31199 this is one where Steve gets a massage and his dick sucked.
Paring: Steve x Reader
Warnings: smut (oral and penetrative sex) and loats of fuffly
You wake up alone in bed, again it’s the third time this has happened this week.
Steve came back from a mission a few days ago, he was tired and needed a rest but nobody was allowing him to do so. Between mission reports to fill in, training and meetings he didn’t have much time for himself.
You hated that he didn’t take this time to process things, that his idea of self-care was to run a marathon and destroy punching bags. You hated that he barely slept or ate in this last few days because he doesn’t consider it a priority. You just want him to be happy.
Mistakes and forgiveness - older!Damian Wayne x Reader
Remember when I said : “I won’t write about the batfam for a while” ? Yeah, I guess I totally lied. No self control really. Anyway, I adore that prompt. So I tried to write something about it…Not sure it’s what you wanted anon. Hope you’ll still like it though :
As you entered in his bedroom at Wayne Manor, the one he was suppose to leave the coming week to come and live with you, one of your worst nightmare stopped you cold in your tracks.
He was sitting on the edge of his bed, facing the door and…
There was an almost naked girl in his lap.
Her tongue was in his mouth. One of her hand tangled in his hair, just like you did, the other one splayed across his broad bare chest. His own hands were on her ass, leaving marks of his fingers for later.
You knew she noticed you, but she kept on going, the hand that was on his chest going to the waistband of his boxer…He opened his eyes and locked them on you, while still kissing her…Hell, while still devouring her mouth ! He opened his eyes, locking his gaze on you and…in his beautiful green orbs, you could see nothing but disdain, a bit of disgust, and…cruelty ? And it was directed to you. He pulled away from her for a second, and his words stabbed you in the heart :
-Can’t you see I’m busy ?
The girl’s smirk drove the knife further into your bleeding heart…
You tried to hide your pained expression, out of pride, but it was impossible…You’ve seen enough.
You left, slapping the door shut behind you.
Tears ran freely down your cheeks, and you ignored Damian’s father asking you what was wrong as you ran out of the Manor.
You quickly got in your car, and your feet didn’t leave the accelerator pedal until you were back in front of your apartment. Without even bothering to take your clothes off, you fell heavily on your bed, empty. Your tears had ran out.
Nothing. You felt nothing. Utterly empty. You fell asleep, the scene you witnessed in your ex-boyfriend’s room replaying over and over again in your head, and after, in your dreams. No. Not dreams. Nightmares.
You woke up, sweating, and decided you just couldn’t stay in your apartment. You had to get out. You just had to.
When in the twenty first century did people forget how to knock?
Are you wearing boxer briefs?
Why are you here again?
I was wondering if you have any dirty laundry.
When did you start washing my laundry?
Since you were born.
I've been doing my own laundry since like middle school.
So why are you wearing underwear usually made for boys?
I don't know if you remember, but I'm gay.
Honey, you're a lesbian. I'm gay.
I like guys. I'm gay. You like girls. You're a lesbian.
Is that why you wanted to do your own laundry? Because I could never differ your flannels and underwear from your brother? I also couldn't tell who's snapbacks were whose. Speaking of which your brother's girlfriend left her flannel on the couch. It looked a bit big for her though so I thought she was just wearing your brother's until I saw your initials on the tag. And I'm pretty sure you two don't have the same initials. I also know that I've made it habit for you to put your initials on your tags since you were a kid. So please tell me why your brother's girlfriend was wearing your shirt?
*Fidgets uncomfortably* I mean she's kind of my ex and never actually returned a couple of my flannels, but looks like I got one back huh?
Warning: NSFW, 18+, spanking, vaginal sex, oral (fem receiving, and male), no dk unfortunately
A/n: It’s very rare that I write fluffy Derek smut, but damn I do love it as well. This was a request, and I did alter the request slightly so apologizes but I just find this works <3 Thank you to @ninja-stiles for reading through this <3
“Remember class, we’re meeting at the airport tomorrow morning at four am.” You announce to your class full of teenagers who were chatting among one another. You could tell they were excited about their trip to Paris, France but you could bet you were more excited than all them put together. It was always a dream of yours to go to Paris, you loved everything about the city.
When your principal asked you to organize a trip abroad for your class, you couldn’t help but choose the one place that fascinated you the most. You ran it through the school board, highlighting the array of activities that were available over in France; The Louvre, The Eiffel Tower and Disneyland. Six days away from Beacon Hills was everything you needed.
“Miss Y/L/N, what other teachers are coming with us?”
“Miss Martin and Mr Hale.” His name fell from your lips with a hiss, and the class giggle at your tone. “Right, have a good evening and I’ll see you bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow.”