#‘hey Ducks why is there the words ‘That I Relate To’ written in small text under the title’ this bares no relevancy to the case

[usertransducks]

hey does anyone remember what season of DuckTales we were in when Frank said Della and Donald were 36? I need to know how old he was by the finale the show had 3 christmases so he’d be 2-3 years older by the finale so I can then ask y’all if that makes him old enough to put on my “Unwell Middle-Aged Men” board

[blackdiamondwrites127]

First Meeting (Sibylle's Perspective)

My girlfriend @ellielovesdrawing and I decided to do a collab fanfic about Sibylle and Kath's first meeting! Mine is in Sibylle's perspective while hers is in Kath's perspective which you can find here. Hope you guys like this!

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Sibylle exited her office at exactly noon. She had double saved her work on her laptop and crossed out the 8 am - 12 pm slot on her daily schedule chart. She made sure to lock the office door and put up the sign that read:

'Out to lunch'

She started doing this to avoid anymore stolen ledger incidents. The last this she needs is hunting someone down who took her ledger and throwing her entire schedule off. Sibylle exits through the employee door and makes her way to the theatre cafe next door. She ducks as she enters to avoid hitting her head on the door frame.

'One concussion is enough in both of my lives,' she thought. Adjusting her thick glasses.

She goes over and gets in line. Waits until it was her turn at the counter.

"Hey there, Sibylle. What will it be today?" Arthur Tudor, the cafe owner, and fellow reincarnated historical figure greeted.

"Hi, Art. I'll be having my usual iced coffee and club sandwich. Take away thanks," she said.

"Coming right up."

As Arthur made her order, Sibylle looks at the pastries displayed behind the glass display by the counter.

"Hey Art, do you carry any other pastries aside from cookies and cupcakes?" she asked.

"Sometimes I have slices of cheesecake and a box of cinnamon buns that EB loves," Arthur replied.

"Do you make cakes? My Papabär is coming over to visit tomorrow and he loves cakes. I was thinking of buying one for him."

"My sister baked the pastries that I sell. She owns a bakery across the street and I just buy from her."

"I didn't know you have a sister."

"I have three sisters. The youngest one is the one who owns the bakery. Here's your order."

Arthur comes back to the counter with her take away order and Sibylle pays for it.

"Why don't you go check it out. See if you fancy any of her cakes and other pastries. The bakery's called Tudor Rose Bakery," he suggested while counting her payment and giving her her change.

"I think I will after work. Thanks, Art," she said. She took her to take away and exited the cafe before making her way back to the theatre and in her office.

Around five, she saves her work on her laptop, crosses out the 1 pm - 5 pm slot on her daily schedule, and packs up her things in her backpack. She picks up her helmet then shuts the lights before shutting and locking the door. She clocks out and leaves through the employee door. Sibylle goes over to her motorbike parked at the employee parking and hangs her helmet on one of the handlebars before crossing the street.

She walked a few paces until she was standing in front of a small bakery with the sign 'Tudor Rose Bakery' on top. She ducks down a bit as she enters the bakery. The bell above the door rang as she entered. As soon as she was inside, the smell of fresh pastries hit her senses. The bakery was small but the place was beautifully simple with rose themed decorations, mostly murals of roses on the white walls. She smiled a bit when she hears the song 'Popular' playing on a Bluetooth speaker propped onto the counter.

She hums along to the song while looking around the few shelves that carried the packed pastries displayed there and their corresponding prices.

"Welcome to the Tudor Rose Bakery! What can I do you for?" a woman's voice cheerily said behind her.

Sibylle straightened up and turned around to face the owner, greet her back and tell her about her intention in buying a cake but all words, even german words, escaped her when she faced the owner.

The very pretty owner.

The very pretty owner looking up at her with icy blue eyes.

The very pretty owner with freckles decorating her very pretty face.

The very pretty owner that was smiling sweetly at her.

The very pretty own-- okay we get it! You're gay!

"Um...ma'am? Are you okay?"

Sibylle snapped out of her flustered stupor by shaking her head, clearing her throat and adjusting her glasses.

"Uh ja! I was wondering if you have any cakes?" she asked.

She hit herself internally for that ridiculous question. Of course she has cakes! It's a bakery for crying out loud! The owner chuckled and Sibylle got even more flustered upon hearing her laugh.

"Yes I have cakes. My brother, Arthur, told me that you would be coming. Sibylle correct?"

"Yes. Sibylle La Marck."

"I'm Katherine Tudor but just call me 'Kath'. Nice to meet you and you don't happen to be related to Anna, William and Amalia are you?"

Sibylle chuckled. "I am actually. I'm their older sister," she said.

"I can see the resemblance! Anna and William loves to come here every other day and orders everything that's either chocolate coated or chocolate flavoured."

"All four of us loves chocolate everything to be honest."

Kath smiled at her again which almost made her heart skip a beat. "No wonder! Now, would you like to order a custom made cake?" she asked.

"Um no. I would like one that's already made. My father loves cakes and he's coming over to visit tomorrow," she replied.

"Of course! This way please."

She follows Kath to the display counter where several cakes and pastries were on display.

"I have madeira, heavy fruit cakes, light fruitcakes. Heavy sponges. Light sponges. And red velvet," the baker listed off while pointing to the cakes in the glass counter.

Sibylle looks at the wide variety of cakes on display. Contemplating which one to get for Papabär. She herself prefers chocolate but her Papabär loves red velvet.

"Found anything you like?" Kath asked.

"Hmmm...I think I'll take one chocolate cake and one red velvet," Sibylle said.

"Sure! Which one? There are a few to choose from."

"Anything is fine as long as it's chocolate and red velvet."

"Coming right up!"

She goes to the back to get two boxes for the two cakes that Sibylle picked. While she waited for her cakes, she noticed the song playing on the Bluetooth speaker had changed and was now playing 'Defying Gravity' and Kath was quietly singing along to it while she ties neat red ribbons around the boxes.

Should she test the waters?

See if this beautiful baker is a fellow Wicked fan?

Might as well do it then.

"I can't help but notice your playlist consisting of songs from Wicked," Sibylle said. She internally patted herself on the back with that start.

The baker seemed to blush shyly and she decided at that moment that she loved the way she blushes. This thought makes blush a bit in turn.

"Oh! Yeah, I'm a major fan of wicked, I prefer the books to the musical though but the music in the musical is bopping!" Kath said. A big, excited grin on the baker's face.

This made Sibylle have an excited grin of her own.

"Same actually! I love the songs from the musical but the books are my preferred canon! The musical all but removed the political commentary and that's what I loved in the books."

"I know! The political commentary in the books make it much more interesting and in depth! Not to mention the lack of Glinda and Elphaba romance in the musical which was very abundant in the first book."

"I know right!"

She noticed her blue eyes had lit up while geeking out with another Wicked fan. She herself is quite happy to discover that this beautiful woman shares the same interest as her.

"You know, you do kind of remind me of Elphaba," Kath said.

"Oh? How so? Do I have green skin or a water allergy?" Sibylle asked.

"More like tall, lanky, glasses and the long braid."

She blushed a bit and absentmindedly played with the tip of her braid.

"The braid is actually the intentional nod to Elphaba in my appearance. The rest is just...me," she said.

Kath smiled at her and yet again, her heart skipped a beat. She rings up her order and gave her the price to which she paid with a bit of extra.

"Keep the change," She said as Kath started to count her change.

"Are you sure?" the baker asked.

"Ja. It's a tip for having the lovely conversation with me." She smiled at her.

Kath smiles back. "Thank you, Ibby."

"Ibby?"

"Oh sorry! I just thought 'Ibby' would suit you as a nickname."

Sibylle smiled at this. "Funny enough, my Papabär gave me the nickname 'Ibby' when he first met me," she said.

"Oh! Well do you mind if I call you that? Because I kind of want to see you more and get to know you," Kath said.

At this point they were both blushing now. Sibylle more so than Kath.

"I-I would like that," she said.

The baker seemed to lit up more at this. She rushed out back before running back out again and handing her a business card with a number written on the back.

"Here's my number! Let's talk more when you have the time!" she said.

Sibylle smiled and graciously took the card. Putting it in her left pocket where her wedding ring was in.

"I'll text you when I get home then. That way you can save my number," she said.

"I'm looking forward to it!"

"Thank you for the cakes, Kath."

"No problem, Ibby."

With that, Sibylle took her cakes and left the bakery. A small smile remained on her face as she drove home to her flat.

Perhaps she can modify her daily schedule to fit in the new 'Go to the bakery' slot with as much break time as she can fit in there as possible.

Yeah. She would definitely do that.

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Featured/Mentioned Sixtended OCs:

@ellielovesdrawing 's Katherine Tudor

@djts-arts 's Arthur Tudor

@spooner7308 's EB

@pandora-dusk 's Mali von Kleve

@lexartsstuff 's William Jülich-Berg-Cleves

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Maybe I Am? - Chpt.3

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Summary: The guys meet up for a casual Sunday farmers market trip but when they get back to Bucky’s apartment things heat up fast. Master list HERE.

Content Warning: basic second base smuttiness; swapping hand jobs and some frottage.

Word Count: 5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! I told ya'll there was gonna a lot of smut in this one and I'm starting to deliver as of this chapter :) So please, enjoy some lovely smuttiness on this fine Wednesday evening lol. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Three

“I told you so.” Natasha cheered over their plate of danishes the next morning. 

Bucky’s smile was sphinx-like as he nibbled on his pastry, “You did. I’m still not 100% sure he’s not going to just bolt at some point but I think that’s a risk I’m going to have to take.” 

“It sounds like a risk worth taking if one kiss has you smiling like that twelve hours later.”

“Ugh, Nat! And for the record, it was more than just one.” Bucky chuckled as Natasha shoved at him playfully.

Across town Steve was helping Sam tidy up in between classes and trying to avoid the grilling he knew Sam wanted to give. They had recapped the last class and personal training sessions and planned out the room for the next group coming in. They went over all the adjustments needed to the next week’s schedule since they were still covering for Thor who was out on paternity leave for the next four weeks now that his wife Jane had the baby. By the time they were setting the last of the kettle bells on the rack they had run out of gym related topics. Sam gave him another side eyed glance and Steve sighed, knowing what was coming.

“So are you still talking to Bucky?” Sam finally asked.

Steve had been reluctant to tell Sam about anything other than their first meeting. He hadn’t even told Sam why he’d bought the new outfit for earlier that week. It was still so new and he was unsure himself of where things were going, or where he even wanted them to go. He figured if in the end he realized he was bi or gay or whatever, then he could tell his friends. But until he was sure there was no point in announcing anything. “I am.” Steve admitted reluctantly.

“And how’s that going?” Sam seemed genuinely interested but Steve still clammed up.

“Good, he’s a good friend. We’ve been swapping memes all week.” 

“Nice. See, it all worked out and now you have someone else to send those stupid GIFs from The Office to.” 

“Hey, don’t knock one of the best TV shows of all time.” Steve glared pointedly.

“Whatever floats your boat, man.” Sam moved on, heading over to the desk to check the roster one last time before he started pulling out mats for their next class. A small twinge of guilt bit in Steve’s stomach, knowing he had let Sam make a wrong conclusion and hadn’t corrected him. But really, what was the point if he still wasn’t sure of everything himself? 

xxXxx

Bucky woke early on the Sunday after their date, restless in a way he hadn’t been in a while. He wanted to see Steve again but it had only been a day. Bucky busied himself with too much coffee and a book while he did laundry in his building's basement, trying to distract himself for a while. By 10am all of his standard keep busy chores were done and he was staring at his phone, trying to make Steve text him by sheer force of will. Giving up he started swiping through Instagram, catching up on his friend’s weekend adventures. Pepper had posted a cute picture of a bouquet she bought at the local farmers market and Bucky realized he had found the perfect reason to text Steve. It was innocent enough and casual so if Steve was busy or declined it wasn’t earth shattering. Plan in place, Bucky fired off a quick text.

Bucky Barnes [10:17:44AM]: hey u. im heading 2 the farmers market in sunset park. gonna stop 4 more of that wine. wanna come?

Steeeeve [10:19:23AM]: Hey! That sounds fun. What time?

Bucky Barnes [10:19:52AM]: headed over now if ur free

Steeeeve [10:20:08AM]: Okay. I just need to throw on some shoes and I’ll head out. I can be there in like 15min. 

Bucky Barnes [10:20:33AM]: k see u then

Bucky scrambled to fix his hair and pick a shirt from the pile he’d just brought up. He hadn’t expected Steve to be willing to meet up so quickly and he was still wearing his laundry day sweatpants. He was closer to the market than Steve but he also needed more time to get ready so he ended up getting a “I’m here” text from Steve on his way. 

Steve was waiting by a jewelry stand when Bucky caught up with him. He had been wandering around for a few minutes and the display of beaded bracelets caught his eye. They reminded him of the ones Bucky had worn when they first met and he wondered which ones Bucky would like. 

“Hey!” Bucky greeted him with a small wave as he approached.

“Hey.” Steve echoed happily. He almost reached out for a hug but something held him back and after a second ticked by he realized he should have just done it but the moment had passed. 

“What are you looking at?” Bucky asked, a little disappointed he hadn’t gotten their standard greeting hug and wanting to move on. 

“Oh, these things caught my eye while I was browsing.” 

“They’re nice. I love the way the translucent ones almost glow.” Bucky picked up one of the vivid pink ones, letting the sunlight hit it from different angles. 

“Let me buy it for you.” Steve offered before his brain caught up with his mouth. 

Bucky looked skeptically at him, “You don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to, please?” 

“Thanks, Stevie.” Bucky said softly, handing the bracelet over. 

Steve blushed at the nickname, ducking his head and walking over to pay the sales girl for the bracelet. Once purchased, he returned it to Bucky who slid it on his wrist next to the two others he was currently wearing.

“Perfect.” Steve praised. 

Bucky was looking appreciatively at his newest addition while Steve was looking appreciatively at Bucky. God, he was gorgeous. Bucky was dressed casually in light washed jeans and a dark grey shirt with no one should live in a closet written in fancy script with a wand below it, all in rainbow colors. Leave it to Bucky. “I like your shirt. Harry Potter reference, right?” Steve guessed.

“Yep. I found it at Pride last year and I’m completely in love with it.” 

“It’s very you.” 

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” Bucky preened for a moment. 

Steve chuckled, “Come on, let’s go get some coffee. Altitude Coffee has a little pop up shop back that way.” 

Steve and Bucky trailed their way through the bustling farmers market, picking up things here and there. Some they actually needed for groceries, but others were just fun impulse buys. They each had overly full canvas totes by the time they were done, and hauled their finds along with them to the wine shop. They each bought a full box from the shop, having stocked up on a half case of their favorites, which only further slowed Bucky down. While Steve had the muscles and endurance to haul a giant tote and six bottles of wine around the city, Bucky did not. 

“Uh, Steve.” Bucky panted out, finally giving up. 

Steve looked over and realized Bucky had fallen a few steps behind while he was talking about a winery he had visited while in Canada a few years ago. 

“I think I need to tap out.” Bucky admitted while shifting his bag as much as he could to get comfortable. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” Steve shifted his tote higher on his shoulder, wondering if he could sling Bucky’s on next to his. “Here, let me take your bag.” he extended a hand towards Bucky’s bag.

Bucky was conflicted, he wanted to try and at least get his stuff home but Steve probably could carry both without breaking a sweat. Damned muscled god of a man. “How about this? Since I’m the one wimping out, let me call us an Uber. I can probably get us one less than five minutes.” 

Steve frowned at the idea of an expensive ride all the back to Park Slope. “You don’t have to do that. I can carry our stuff.” 

“If I call us an Uber we could go back to my place and try that baguette and jam I bought.”

“Ooh, that’s a good bribe. I have that cheese I got too.” Steve looked at Bucky for a long moment. An afternoon of good food and even better company was too tempting to pass up. “You sure you don’t mind me coming over?” 

“Not at all. It’s a tiny little crap shack of a place, but it’s my tiny little crap shack.” 

Bucky was already pulling up the app and ordering them a car when Steve finally said, “Okay, let’s go.” 

The Uber ride back to Bucky’s place was barely more than ten minutes and they sat cramped in the back of a Prius with their wine boxes in the trunk and their totes in their laps. Bucky was trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness and shot Steve amused glances every so often, making the blonde have to tamp down his own laughter. By the time they got to Bucky’s apartment Steve practically leapt out of the tiny blue car, grateful to stretch back to his full height again. He insisted on carrying both of their totes and his box of wine bottles up to Bucky’s apartment, leaving Bucky his own wine to carry. Thankfully the building had an elevator and Steve seemed barely phased under the weight of all their stuff. Bucky tried to ignore the filthy thoughts racing through his head of what else Steve was strong enough to do. Like pick him up and fuck him against a wall. Or something. God, Bucky hoped Steve figured things out soon because he was barely through their second date and wanted to climb the man like a tree. 

“Home sweet home.” Bucky announced as he swung the door open to his apartment. He flicked on the recessed lighting in the living room and showed Steve to the kitchen where he could put their bags down. It was a cute little one bedroom apartment with a decent sized living room and dine-in kitchen. 

“It’s nice.” Steve said looking around as he placed their bags on the faux granite countertop. 

“It’s tiny but it works.” Bucky shrugged. 

Steve noticed the would be dining room area of the kitchen was set up with a desk and three wide computer monitors instead of a table. “That’s quite a set up over there.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Bucky looked embarrassed for a moment, “It’s a little ridiculous, but when you work from home it’s kinda nice to have a sweet setup. When I signed on to work for Stark Securities they gave me a signing bonus so I splurged and bought better equipment and that fancy office chair. It was completely worth it too.” 

“Good for you, you deserve it.” 

Bucky blushed lightly at the sincerity of Steve’s tone. He nervously spun the bracelet Steve had bought him around his wrist a few times, hoping he wasn’t setting himself for heartache. “So, lunch?” Bucky offered, the momentary tension dissipating. 

“Absolutely. Let’s break out that bread you got.” Steve started rifling through his bag for the soft cheese and candied pecans he’d bought while Bucky pulled out the heavy loaf of artisan bread, the little pot of homemade plum jam, and a bottle of Chloe Prosecco he’d bought at the wine shop. The bottle had been adorable with its fancy little bow and the sales girl had said it was a popular choice.

They laid out their feast on a large cutting board, teasing each other about how posh the whole thing was. It was a simple but seemingly elegant lunch spread and Bucky liked that their official second date had a bit of a classy feel to it. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have a table or anything for us to eat at.” Bucky waved his hand at his little office space. “I normally just eat on the sofa like a heathen.” 

“Honestly so do I.” Steve admitted with a chuckle.

“We can be heathens together then.” Bucky picked up their wine glasses while Steve carried the large tray out to the coffee table where they set up their feast. Flicking through his streaming channels he settled on Disney, knowing everyone loved those movies. “Have you seen the new Beauty and the Beast?”

Steve shook his head, “No, I heard it was good though.” 

“Good?” Bucky feigned offense, “Stephen Gilligan Rogers.” 

“Not my middle name.” Steve chuckled but Bucky was undeterred.

“BATB is not good. It is iconic. The elaborate costumes, the backdrops, the music, oh my god Steve, the music. We’re watching it. End of subject.” Bucky started up the movie, not even slightly apologetic for his dramatics. One had not lived until they saw Emma Watson as Belle. 

Two hours later Bucky was curled up against Steve, watching with misty eyes as the palace furniture turned back into real people as the curse lifted. Steve was completely engrossed in the movie, barely registering that he had been stroking Bucky’s hair for the better part of an hour. 

“Now do you see?” Bucky demanded as the credits rolled a few minutes later. 

“You were right. That was amazing.” Steve conceded. 

“It was always my favorite Disney movie as a kid but seeing it redone in such a perfect way really gets to me. I’ve threatened to dress up as Belle for the past three Halloweens now.” 

Steve grinned at the idea, “I think you’d make a beautiful Belle.” 

And just like that the air shifted. Bucky was suddenly very aware of how close they were curled up together and the way Steve was looking at him like he’d hung the moon. He didn’t want to rush Steve, he was willing to wait as Steve figured himself out, but if he kept looking at Bucky like that, his timeline needed to hurry up. “You’d make a very handsome beast.” he finally said, going for levity but falling short. 

Steve blushed so prettily, his eyes locked on Bucky’s lips, the bottom of which he was chewing on again. Steve knew now it was a nervous tell and it gave him a little thrill knowing he wasn’t the only nervous one. “I think I’d like to kiss you again.” he admitted quietly. 

“You don’t have to ask, honey.” Bucky purred, leaning in to press a tender kiss against Steve’s lips.

Steve’s body was shaking with nervous energy as Bucky shifted up onto his knees so he could kiss Steve easier. Bucky tasted like wine and plums and something very uniquely him. It made Steve’s head spin as he chased Bucky’s tongue with his own. The fears and worries over what he was doing died away in that moment, his whole being consumed by his desire for the sweet man who was practically in his lap. Steve still wasn’t sure what it all meant, but he knew he wanted more. 

Bucky was so thankful for a repeat of the night on Steve’s couch. Kissing Steve was electric and Bucky couldn’t get enough. The hard planes of his body pressed firmly up against the softer ones of Bucky’s, which only made Bucky more desperate for the close contact. Despite having a thicker build, Bucky felt small next to Steve and he loved it. Feeling brave, and praying desperately that Steve wouldn’t bolt, he swung a leg over Steve’s lap and sat himself atop Steve’s thighs. “Is this okay?” he asked once he was settled. 

“Yeah.” Steve shuddered, “Yeah, it’s fine.” Steve let his hands come to rest on Bucky’s thick thighs on either side of his smaller ones. While Steve’s thighs were hard with well earned muscle, Bucky’s had natural musculature and a softness to them that had Steve wanting to sink his fingers into their plush expanse. Bucky had gone back to kissing him while his mind wandered and Steve decided to give Bucky’s thighs an exploratory squeeze. For science really, just to see if he would feel anything. The kissing so far had been fantastic but Steve worried they’d eventually hit a point where everything went to hell and he realized he was most definitely straight. And then he’d lose Bucky forever. 

Bucky made a light huffing sound when Steve sunk his fingers into the soft meat of his thighs. He was thankful Steve was getting a little braver and decided to run his hands up and down the length of Steve’s ridiculously muscled chest and stomach in a tentative exploration of his own. 

A choked noise made its way out of Steve’s throat as Bucky touched him with feather light hands. He wanted to rip his shirt off and give him all the access he wanted. But he was taking things slow, Steve reminded himself. Unfortunately, not all parts of Steve got that memo. 

Bucky had shifted a bit trying to sprinkle kisses along the sharp edge of Steve’s jaw when he accidentally brushed against an unexpected guest. “Oh, shit, sorry.” he blurted out, moving back an inch so he wasn’t pressed against the, frankly enormous, erection in Steve’s pants. 

Steve blushed from the tips of his ears all the way down his throat. “No, I’m sorry. I guess I got a little carried away.” 

Bucky glanced down at the tenting of Steve’s pants. Damn, he wanted to get his hands on Steve like yesterday. “I could, uh,” he cleared his throat roughly, “help you. With that.” Steve looked at him with wide bright blue eyes, so open and unsure, that Bucky started backpedaling all in a rush, “Or not, we can stop. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” 

Steve just grinned and leaned in to kiss Bucky again, his motions almost questioning. “I think I’d be okay going a little further this time.” he said quietly against Bucky’s mouth. 

Bucky squeaked involuntarily at Steve’s words. He was now dealing with his own growing problem at the idea of getting to fool around a little with Steve. “If you’re sure. We can stop at any time.” he promised. It would probably kill him, but if Steve said stop at any point he would be off him in a second. 

“I trust you, Buck.” Steve told him, brushing a strand of hair back behind Bucky’s ear. 

Bucky wanted to melt at the trust Steve had in him. He was too good to be true and Bucky just had to hope it would all work out. Gay or straight or somewhere in between, Steve Rogers was an absolute dream partner. Bucky shifted himself forward a little so the hard length in his pants could rub against the one in Steve’s while they kissed a little more. Bucky let his hips rock a little as they moved, giving them both a little bit of tortuous friction. 

Steve was panting like he’d run a marathon, and he knew this from personal experience when he and Sam had run the New York City Marathon a few years back as publicity for their gym. He’d never thought making out on a sofa would have quite the same effect but life had been full of surprises for him lately. The friction against his dick felt amazing and there was a naughty little zing of arousal knowing it was from Bucky’s erection rubbing against his. He would never have expected to enjoy that so much but there he was, fighting for self control like a horny teenager. He wanted to get Bucky off too and not just selfishly sit back and let Bucky take care of him. Steve was well acquainted with getting himself off and really how different could it be doing it to someone else? He was feeling bold and brash, knowing a hand was just a hand and really he had to start somewhere. “I think I’m ready for more.” he spoke up in between heated kisses. 

Bucky paused, jaw hanging open in shock. “Like, more more?” 

Steve nodded rapidly. “Like second base more?” He held his breath, waiting for Bucky to process what he’d just asked for. 

“God,” Bucky heaved out a breath, “You’re gonna be the death of me. Yes, second base, yes. Get those pants off, Rogers.” He stripped his own shirt off eagerly while Steve just sat there, amused.

“I kinda have this gorgeous guy on my lap at the moment.” he teased.

“Sorry!” Bucky yelped, hopping up so Steve could pull his pants down and off, quickly followed by his tee shirt. He sat in just his boxer briefs on Bucky’s sofa, looking like every Calvin Klien ad fantasy Bucky’d ever had come to life. “Jesus.” he whispered harshly. Bucky couldn’t get his own pants off fast enough, leaving him in his own silky boxers to resume his perch on Steve’s lap. 

Unconfined by pants Bucky got a better feel of Steve’s cock and he was thanking every saint he could think of for what was about to happen. He shifted himself closer to Steve, his thighs spreading wider, and he reached down to give Steve’s cock a tentative squeeze over top the soft cotton of his underwear. 

“Ohh.” Steve gasped out, his body trembling once again. His eyes were glued on Bucky, not wanting to miss a moment. He was so handsome sitting on Steve’s lap. His long hair shining in the afternoon sun that flooded in the glass balcony doors, his lightly tanned skin decorated with a series of finely detailed tattoos. While his muscles weren’t hard and cut like Steve’s, Steve loved the slight softness of the other man’s body, giving him something to sink his fingers into along his sides. It felt nice, and right, and Steve realized in that moment he was more invested in what was about to happen than he had been for most the sexual encounters he’d had with Peggy. It was startling but Steve pushed it down to deal with another day. In the moment, all that mattered was Bucky. 

“Can I?” Bucky asked, trailing his fingers along the waistband of Steve’s boxer briefs. 

“Yeah. Can I?” Steve echoed, tugging at the silky material at Bucky’s hip. 

“If you’re sure.” Bucky prayed silently that having an actual cock in his hand wouldn’t send Steve running for the hills. 

But it didn’t. Steve pulled his underwear off when Bucky hopped up to do the same and he was all nervous excitement when Bucky resumed his perch. He hadn’t thought of what to expect but Steve was blatantly staring at the thick length of Bucky’s dick. It was shorter than his own, but Steve had already known he was considered a bit above average, and it was girthy in a way that made Steve wonder if he topped or bottomed. Because, Steve thought with amusement, these were things he had to consider now. But not right away. They would take things slow and he would see if this was even something he wanted to try. Steve reached out a hand to test the weight of Bucky’s dick in his palm. He slid his hand up and down for two quick strokes, testing how doing that made him feel and was pleasantly surprised that it was a pretty familiar act. The way Bucky hissed out a sharp breath and craned his neck back, eyes shut tight, made Steve’s own dick jump for attention. Oh, this was kind of fun. Steve moved his hand for another few stokes, enjoying the way Bucky’s body reacted so blatantly to the pleasure. It was easy to get him worked up like that and Steve was genuinely enjoying himself watching Bucky become a desperate, needy thing in his lap, thrusting a little into Steve’s fist. 

“God. Fuck. Stevie, slow down.” Bucky pleaded. “I wanna take care of you too, honey. Can I? Please?” 

“Okay.” Steve acquiesced, bracing himself for the pressure of Bucky’s hand around his dick. 

Bucky eagerly wrapped his fist around the hard length of Steve’s cock, sliding it up and down the impressive length until Steve gasped. He leaned forward to kiss Steve from his jaw down his neck to his collarbones while he groped him fervently between their two overheated bodies. For as simple as it was, it was absolutely exquisite. “How you doing, Stevie?” Bucky prompted, wanting to check in to ensure Steve was still on board. He rested his forehead on Steve’s shoulder, waiting patiently for him to respond.

“So good.” Steve managed to moan out. “This is amazing.” 

“Wanna try something even more amazing?” Bucky grinned devilishly. “Just hand stuff, promise.” he added for reassurance.

“What can be better than this?” Steve questioned but motioned for Bucky to go ahead with whatever he had in mind.  

Carefully, Bucky shifted forward one last time, pressing as close to Steve as humanly possible making his over stretched thighs burn in the process. He slipped his hand from Steve’s cock and lined it up with his own, wrapping his fist around them both the best he could. He gave them a quick stroke, reveling in the sensation and waiting to see if Steve would enjoy it too. 

Steve’s whimper was a good sign. “Please.” he begged, “Please, please do that.” 

Bucky picked up the motion again, rhythmically pumping them in his fist. Steve was making little broken ahh sounds, unable to keep up with the pleasure thrumming through his body, and it spurred Bucky on to bring them both racing towards their release. 

Steve could feel the pressure building, his body was on fire and he could barely bite out a warning to Bucky as he felt his orgasm ripping through him. A half formed “I’m g-” was all the warning Bucky got before Steve was spilling all over his hand and cock. Watching Steve come undone, the pure bliss on his face, had Bucky following him over the edge of his own climax seconds later. His body shook hard as he spilled over his hand and across the rippled muscles of Steve’s abs. 

Steve’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes shining, and Bucky mused he probably looked about the same. Steve was so stunning sitting there with a wide, lazy blissed out smile on his face. Bucky giggled a little realizing how incredibly lucky he was. Steve really was just perfection. 

“What?” Steve asked, joining in Bucky’s infectious laughter. 

“You’re perfect.” Bucky admitted, speaking what was on his mind. 

“And you’re beautiful.” Steve leaned up to push Bucky’s hair back where it had fallen forward in his face. He pressed two chaste kisses against his lips before pulling back, feeling a little extra affectionate in his post-orgasmic haze. 

Bucky made a muffled mmph sound, leaning into Steve, just wanting to be close for a moment. “We made quite a mess.” he said finally, the squidgy feeling of their come between their stomachs not exactly a pleasant one. 

“We should clean up.” Steve agreed. 

“Come on, I have some wet wipes in my room.” Bucky lifted himself up off of Steve’s lap, suddenly cold without their skin to skin contact.

Steve noticed his shiver and as soon as he was standing, he pulled Bucky close against him in a warm embrace. 

Bucky basked in the warmth, his brain effectively turning to mush again at how sweet Steve was. “You spoil me.” he whispered against Steve’s firm pecs.

Steve dropped a kiss on top of Bucky’s head, “You deserve to be spoiled.” 

It took every bit of willpower in Bucky to pull back and lead Steve down the hall to clean up. He could have stayed wrapped in Steve’s arms forever, sticky cooling mess on his stomach be damned. They exchanged quick, adorably awkward glances at each other as they cleaned up. Both wanting to get a more detailed look now the heat of the moment had passed. Steve tossed his wipes in the wastebasket by Bucky’s dresser and then pulled Bucky close by his hips, “You really are so beautiful, Buck.” he told him softly.

Bucky had been careful to wall up his heart when he decided to give Steve a chance. He didn’t want to risk another heartbreak less than a year after what he’d been through with Brock. But Steve’s sweet words and affectionate touches had the walls crumbling a little despite Bucky’s best defenses. “Careful.” he teased with a pang of truth to his words, “You’re gonna ruin me for all other men, you keep this up.” 

Steve chuckled and kissed the top of Bucky’s head yet again. There were so many things he wanted to say in that moment. Raw, honest things that ached in his chest. But Steve kept them inside, not willing to let down his guard so completely just yet. He still didn’t really know what he was doing but damned if he wasn’t loving every second of it so far. 

“Come on you, let’s get dressed.” Bucky said finally, tugging Steve’s hand into his and leading him back down the hall.

Steve left shortly after they’d redressed and cleaned up the mess from their lunch. It was a long, drawn out goodbye in the doorway, neither one of them really wanting to part despite knowing they both had to get on with their usual Sunday routines. Steve promised to text Bucky once he’d made it home, insisting he would have no trouble carrying his tote and box on the subway. And then he was off down the hall, looking back just once before he got on the elevator and wishing he could have stayed. Bucky walked over to his glass balcony door, watching the street below as Steve crossed it heading toward the nearest subway station. He was trying not to get too attached but after the day they’d spent together, Bucky knew it was a losing battle.

[john-cardoza]

Awkward Lesbians

Enjoy my first prom one shot. I’m positing it like this because I’m pretty sure there’s something weird going on with links. (Ao3 link is on my blog)

“Emma Nolan and Alyssa Greene”

Alyssa looked up from where she had been doodling in her notebook for the past hour. “What?”

Mrs. Brooks sighed “I’m assigning partners for the upcoming project” She looked Alyssa up and down, taking note of the fact that she had not been paying attention “Hopefully your partner will be willing to fill you in”

A couple of students giggled causing Alyssa to look down at her notebook. She wasn’t sure why Mrs. Brooks seemed to hate her so much, sometimes she zoned out, but overall she was a good student. “Sorry” Alyssa gathered her stuff to go sit by her partner when Mrs. Brooks’ words from earlier finally registered in her mind.Emma Nolan .

Shelby pushed Alyssa’s shoulder a little bit when she passed “Have fun with the freak”

Alyssa met Emma’s eyes with a tentative smile. Emma had clearly heard Shelby, judging by how forced her smile was. Why did Alyssa have to be with Emma? The one person in the school that always made her nervous and fidgety. She would almost say she had a crush on Emma, if that didn't go against everything in her life. “Hi”

“Hey” Emma ducked her head and let her blonde curls fall in front of her face. “I would understand if you didn’t want to be my partner, I’m sure Mrs. Brooks would let me work alone”

“No!” Alyssa jumped a little and Mrs. Brooks glared at her from across the room.

“Ms. Greene, if you can’t handle being in my classroom the door is that way”

“Sorry Mrs. Brooks I stepped on her foot” Emma apologized, covering for Alyssa's disruption.

Mrs. Brooks’ expression softened “Don’t let it happen again”

“Thank you” Alyssa smiled “I would love to work with you”

“Oh” A small blush crept across Emma’s face and Alyssa couldn’t help the part of her that thought it was adorable “Well then when do you want to meet? And where?”

“How about Friday?” Alyssa asked. Cheerleading would go late every other day of the week and it would be easy to sneak out considering her mom was never home on Friday nights ( It’s PTA night Alyssa. You really should come with me next week. Right now we're trying to pass some terrible rule that will make your life miserable. It will be fun! Maybe that isn't exactly what she said, but that's what Alyssa always heard ) “And is there any chance we could meet at your house?”

“Sure” Emma smiled “I’ll see you at five?”

“Sounds perfect”

----

“You’re going to her house?” Kaylee asked the question while they were putting their stuff away “Alone?”

“Yes?” Alyssa wasn’t sure exactly why her friends seemed so shocked. It was for a school project.

Kaylee's eyes widened in a way that would've been funny, if it hadn't been for what she said next “What if she kills you?”

“I’m not too worried about that” Alyssa fidgeted with her too short skirt. She hated cheerleading. "It's a school project"

“I heard she’s gay” Shelby interrupted “What if she tries to kiss you or something?”

Alyssa's stomach did flips, but not for the reason Shelby would've wanted. “Why would she do that?”

“Homosexuals have no moral code” Kaylee stated "Didn't you go to church last week?"

The words felt like they were directed at Alyssa. And even though they weren't she couldn't help the way her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. “I’ll be fine guys, really” Alyssa shouldered her backpack “I should be heading home”

“Can you still come to the mall on Saturday?” Shelby asked. She tossed her blonde hair behind her shoulder. “I want to look at prom dresses”

“The prom is like three months away” Alyssa pointed out. She didn’t want to go, but Shelby and Kaylee would probably drag her along anyway.

“Whatever, are you coming?” Shelby asked

“I don’t think I can, it’s mother-daughter day whatever that means” Knowing her mother it was probably something church related that Alyssa would hate.

“That’s too bad” Kaylee frowned “We could talk to her”

“No it’s fine. I’ll see you on Monday” Alyssa practically ran out the door. She had been hoping to change before going to Emma’s, but it seemed like the blouse and jeans in her backpack would have to do. Why did it matter what Alyssa wore anyway? They were working on a school project.

-------

Emma needed to calm down. She had been pacing back and forth for the past fifteen minutes and even she could admit, it was weird. What did it matter if Alyssa was pretty and nice and smart. It was Indiana for god's sake. Emma was just setting herself up for heartbreak by having a crush on a girl who would probably look at her with disgust if she knew. The doorbell rang and Emma almost tripped in her haste to get to the door.

“Hello” Alyssa was standing awkwardly on the porch and Emma’s words caught in her throat. Alyssa was wearing her cheerleading outfit and appeared to have come straight from practice. Her hair was tied out of her face with a ribbon and a couple strands were hanging in front of her eyes. “It there any chance I can use your bathroom to change?”

Emma shook off the cloud surrounding her head and cleared her throat “Of course. It’s right down the hallway” Emma moved off to the side to let Alyssa through.

“Thanks” Alyssa dropped her backpack by the door and carried her cheer bag with her. Emma focused on closing and locking the door in order to avoid staring at Alyssa as she walked down the hall.

Not even five minutes later Alyssa was back wearing a simple purple blouse and some jeans. “Where do you want to work?”

“I was thinking the kitchen table” Emma offered. She had cleared the table earlier that morning in order to make the house a little more presentable.

“Lead the way” Alyssa traded her cheer bag for her backpack and followed Emma through the living room. “Did you finish the book?”

“Yeah,” Emma sat down next to Alyssa and pulled her stuff over from where she had set it in the middle of the table.

Alyssa leaned off her chair to dig through her backpack. One by one she pulled out a pencil, a notebook, and her copy of Romeo and Juliet. “I think I have a couple ideas, do you want to compare?"

“Sure” Emma flipped through her note book until she came to the page she had filled with ideas. All her notes were neat and a couple were even color coded. On the other hand, Alyssa’s were all written in pencil, hastily scribbled down as though her brain worked faster than her pencil, and surrounded by doodles of various things.

“We need to pick three themes in the book right?” Alyssa asked. She had a basic understanding of the project, but she wanted to make sure it was right.

“And draw pictures of moments in the text that show those themes” Emma was a little worried about that part, but judging by the drawings that filled Alyssa’s notebook, she would be good at the art side of things. Emma had always been better at words than drawings, hopefully their different skill sets would prove compatible and effective.

They worked for two hours straight before the conversation was derailed.

“I always wanted to do gymnastics, but my mom thought that cheerleading would be a “better fit”” Alyssa wasn't sure why she was dumping her life story on Emma, but Emma didn’t seem to mind.

“Why?” Emma had stopped writing and instead was twirling her pencil around her fingers

“I’m pretty sure it’s because she used to be a cheerleader” Alyssa guessed. It always felt like her mom was just trying to turn Alyssa into her. “She’s always trying to change me”

“I think you’re perfect how you are” The words had slipped out and Emma froze waiting to see how they would be received. To her relief Alyssa smiled.

“Thanks Emma” Alyssa couldn’t help herself from pulling Emma into a hug. She wasn’t sure why she already felt closer to Emma than any of her other friends, but she didn’t mind.

-----

They met up twice a week to work on the project for three weeks on top of the class time they were given. By the end of every session they ended up talking about anything from movies they saw, to the other classes they were taking. Alyssa’s crush that she had tried to ignore had developed into something more, and as scary as it was she was also happier than she had ever been. It was the day before the project was due and they were meeting up to add the finishing touches when it happened.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Emma wasn’t sure what came over her. Alyssa was laughing at something Emma had just said and Emma was thinking about how beautiful Alyssa looked and the fact that after this they would probably never see each other as friends again, and the words slipped out.

Alyssa was in the middle of pushing her hair out of her face and her hand froze on top of her head. Every single thought fled from her brain and she couldn’t do anything other than stare at Emma in shock. A date. With a girl. With Emma. A date. With a girl. Wi–

After a second Emma seemed to realize that she was about to be rejected and it would probably be worse than that. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked. You can just leave and I’ll never talk to you again and–”

“Wait Emma” Alyssa’s brain finally caught up to what was going on and she placed a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Yes”

“What?” Emma must be dreaming. There was absolutely no way Alyssa Greene liked girls, and wanted to date her. Right?

“I would love to go on a date with you” Alyssa smiled and Emma barely had time to react before they were kissing, and everything suddenly was making sense. Emma pulled Alyssa closer and smiled against her mouth. Their noses bumped together and Alyssa giggled a little bit.

Alyssa could’ve stayed there kissing Emma until the world ended. She would’ve stayed forever. The only thing that possibly could’ve interrupted them was when the front door opened. Alyssa jumped away and Emma picked up the pencil that had fallen to the floor right on time for Emma’s mom to walk in. "It's dinner time, Alyssa should probably be heading home"

“I’m leaving now” Alyssa said awkwardly. She smiled at Emma “Bye Mrs. Nolan”

She ran out the door as fast as she could, only stopping when her phone buzzed.

Emma: Date tomorrow?

Alyssa: Yes!

Alyssa smiled down at her phone. Maybe things weren't all bad.

[thorne93]

Curious Conundrum (Part 19)

Prompt: You’re John Watson’s sister. One day you decide to visit your brother for lunch, only to meet the infamous Mr. Holmes…

Word Count: 2469

Warnings: language, flirtation, sexual innuendos (maybe? idfk), murder/crime/case related stuff, angst, jealousy…

Notes: Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong Not only did she beta, but I literally couldn’t have written half these scenes without her help. She contributed majorly, even wrote some parts of scenes. I am forever in her debt.

Also, this starts AFTER Season 2, episode 1. I don’t follow all the episodes, but it does follow the timeline and hit some major events : )

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |  Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 |

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You followed the men outside, where Sherlock and him managed to get away. Within a few minutes, you got a text telling you an address. It wasn’t Sherlock’s number, but you had a feeling it was a message from one of his homeless network.

You ducked out of the back of the apartment and made your way through town to the address. When you got there, Sherlock and John were waiting for you outside an apartment.

“I’ve nearly unlocked it...There we are,” Sherlock noted as he stood up and you two went inside a small apartment.

Sherlock asked that you find something to cut the cuffs with. You found some bolt cutters and set them free.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“This is a writer's apartment. Kitty. Remember the frisky fan I told you about?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s her. Not a fan at all. She wanted an exclusive interview and I wouldn’t give it to her.”

“Okay so why are we here?”

“She wrote a story called Kiss and Tell, claiming that a man named Richard Brook has shed light on my fraud.”

“And we’re here to…?”

“To see who Richard Brook is.”

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

The three of you sat in the dark to wait for her. She got to the door, opened it, clicked on the light and Sherlock asked, “Too late to go on the record?”

Once Kitty got settled in, Sherlock set in on her. “Congratulations, on the truth about Sherlock Holmes. Scoop that everybody wanted and you got it. Bravo.”

“I gave you your opportunity. I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down so…”

“And then someone turns up and spills all the beans, how utterly convient? Who is Brook?”

She shook her head.

“Oh come on, Kitty, no one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone. There are all those flirty little meetings in cafes, those meetings in hotel rooms. How do you know that you could trust him?” Sherlock pressed. “Man turns up with a holy grail in his pocket. What were his credentials?”

At that moment, the door opened to the apartment and a disheveled Moriarty walked in. “Darling they didn’t have any ground coffee so I just got normal.”

Sherlock spun, his eyes wide with shock, yours as well. Suddenly you felt your heart drop into your stomach, your veins filled with ice. John, you, and Sherlock all looked as if you’d seen a ghost. What the ever loving fuck was he doing here?

“You said that they wouldn’t find me here,” he stammered as he backed into a wall, dropping the grocery bag. Your eyes narrowed on him. “You said that I’d be safe here.”

“You are safe, Richard,” Kitty assured and your face whipped to her. “I’m a witness. They won’t harm you in front of witnesses.”

“Wanna bet?” you muttered, utterly put out with all of this nonsense.

“So that’s your source?” John demanded. “Moriarty is Richard Brook?”

“Of course he’s Richard Brook. There is no Moriarty. There never has been.”

A dizzy spell hit your head at that moment.

“What are you talking about?” John wondered.

“Look him up. Rich Brook, an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty.”

Your eyes flashed to your better half, his face unreadable. Then your eyes flashed to Moriarty.

“Dr. Watson, I know you’re a good man,” Moriarty started. “Don’t--Don’t--Don’t hurt me,” he pleaded holding his hands up.

Oh he was good. Playing the part of victim. Playing the part of a scared little man, but you knew better. This wasn’t real. He was as sick and twisted as they come.

John lost his nerve and started shouting. “No, you’re Moriarity! He’s moriarty!” he insisted glancing back to Kitty. “We've met, remember? You were going to blow me up!”

Moriarity continued his charade as he said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. He paid me. I needed the work.” He gestured to Sherlock and you thought you’d rip his head off then and there. “I’m an actor. I was out of out work.”

“Sherlock, you’d better explain. Cause I am not getting this.”

“I’ll be doing the explaining,” Kitty interjected. She went on to hand John and you papers, explaining how Sherlock had invented Moriarity and all the crimes.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Ask him, he’s right here!” she insisted, pointing to Moriarty.  

John went back and forth with the two of them but all you could hear was a rushing in your ears, feel the pounding of your heart, your stomach lurching. You were getting more pissed by the second.

Suddenly, Moriarity had been begging Sherlock to tell John “the truth”.

“Tell him! Tell them! Tell him!” he repeated frantically and you’d had enough.

Shaking your head, you cried, “You sick son a bitch!” Then you lunged at him, his voice getting on your last nerve. This story. The lies. The games. All of it.

“No! No! Don’t you touch me!” he said, falling over himself, getting just out of your grasp. “Don’t you lay a finger on me!”

You continued to march towards him. “Oh I’ll lay more than a finger you sniveling, lying, little snake!”

“Stop it! Stop it now!” Sherlock shouted at Jim, demanding he put this charade to bed. But he didn’t. He started to get up and run away where you and John took off after him.

But he got away. The three of you stormed out of her apartment, your minds still reeling. John was asking if any of this was possible, and Sherlock seemed to surrender and say it was possible.

“There’s only one thing he needs to do to complete his game and that’s to…” Sherlock said, stopping suddenly.

“Sherlock?” you softly said.

“There’s something I need to do.”

“What? Can we help?” John asked.

“No, on my own.” With that he started to walk.

You shook your head, gritting your teeth. “He is such a --”

“Bastard? Annoying dick? Egotistical ass? Patronizing son of a bitch?”

“All of the above,” you muttered.

Just then you got a text message from Sherlock. “Find the computer program. -- SH.”

You showed John.

“Let’s go,” you sighed.

“Uh, you go ahead. I need to take care of something.”

“What? Not you too.”

“Y/N, someone sold Sherlock’s life. It wasn’t me, I highly doubt it was you, so who does that leave?”

It only took you a second before you answered, “Mycroft.”

“Right.”

“But why…?” you started to ask.

“I don’t know, but that’s what I intend to find out.”

“So I’m on my own?” you asked, exasperated as he started to walk away.

“For now, yes! I’ll meet up with you when I can,” he called over his shoulder.

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

You worked all night trying to find the code, not hearing a word from either one of them, except that they were at St. Barts working. Giving up a little after dawn, you decided to head to Barts to see what headway they’d made.

Just as you arrived, Sherlock called you. You stepped out of the cab and answered.

“Hey. You okay?” you greeted.

“Turn around and walk back the way you came,” he instructed sternly.

“What? Why would I do that? I’m coming in.”

“Just do as I ask! Please.” His tone made you nervous so you obliged.

“Yeah, alright. Where am I supposed to go?”

“Stop there.”

“Okay?” you said, looking around for him.

“Okay, look up, I’m on the rooftop.”

Dizziness hit your head like a freight train.

“The rooftop? What the hell are you--” you demanded, angry with him at first, until you actually saw him standing on the ledge. He wasn’t just standing on the rooftop, his tiptoes were over the edge. You gazed up in nauseous horror as you covered your mouth and gasped.

“Sherlock?! What the hell are you doing up there?! Get down this instant!” you nearly shouted into the phone.

“I... I can’t come down so we’ll just have to do it like this,” he said softly.

Your insides twisted.

“Do what?” you asked, a sob already forming in your throat. You didn’t want an answer to your question, but you half hoped it would be something benign, not the horrors that danced through your head at that instant. One horrible thing about your mind was that it quickly worked things out. Moriarity must be making him do this. “Sherlock… What… What’s going on?” you tried to speak through threatening tears.

“An apology,” he said simply.

“For what?” you tried again.

“It’s all true.”

“What’s all true?”

“Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty.”

You shook your head, your heart beating a million miles per hour. Maybe you could get up there but… Sherlock had told you to stay put.

“Why are you saying this? Sherlock this is mad. Stop this right now.”

“I’m a fake, Y/N.”

“No, no you’re not. This is just…”

“The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell John, Lestrade; I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and Molly... in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes.”

“I’m not going to do that,” you insisted, still biting back tears and your ever-swelling throat. “You know things about people, intimate things, that no one could possibly know in one glance. But you do.”

“Noone is that clever. I couldn’t even tell you anything other than you being an attorney, an obvious deduction. I’ve never been able to read you.”

“So? Sherlock, you can tell people their life story with one glance. I’m the exception.”

It sounded as if he gave a short, sorrow filled laugh before saying, “You always were, weren’t you? My one exception.”

His words. Those words. They sent tears over the edge.

“It’s all one big magic trick, a ruse. I research people. That’s all.”

“You’re lying and I don’t know why. I’m coming up,” you said, starting to move before Sherlock stopped you.

“No! Stay exactly where you are! Don’t move.”

Against your better judgement, you obeyed him and moved back into your spot.

“Alright. I won’t move.”

“Keep your eyes fixed on me,” he requested. “Please, will you do this for me?”

“Do... do what?” you stammered, trying to keep some composure and failing. Not being next to him, seeing him on that ledge, it made your bones, your very soul ache.

“This phone call – it’s, er ... it’s my note. It’s what people do, don’t they – leave a note?”

A strangled sob escaped your throat as you stared up at him.

“No, Sherlock. No. Just... tell me, I can help you. Please let me help you. We can solve this another way. I don’t know what he has on you but please,” you begged.

“There is no other way. Y/N, I’m so sorry for the pain I’ve caused you… For the pain I’m about to cause you. When we met… I never meant for this to happen. That’s why I told you no, the day you asked me to dinner. I warned you. I told you this would be dangerous.”

“I know, and I still said yes.”

“Do you still say yes now?” he asked ominously.

At first you weren’t sure what he meant, but as you stared up at him, it became painfully clear. He would be dead. You weren’t sure when, but he was going to end his life. Today. And he was asking if it was still worth saying yes.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“I’m so sorry you feel that way,” he apologized.

“Please. Sherlock. Don’t do this. Please, for the love of God don’t do this to me,” you pleaded. He was your first and only love. In your mind and heart, he would be your last love. He couldn’t do this. He just couldn’t. “I love you. Do you hear me? I love you!” you shouted, angry at him for doing this, for putting you in this position. Maybe the anger was just an early stage of grief yet to follow.

“I know,” he quietly says into the phone. “But you were just another part of the game.”

At his words, your heart fell out of your chest.

“I… what?” you gasped, trying to catch up.

“Just another step in the plan to make me seem more normal. John had been on me about being more human so... so I chose you, to play the part.”

“No,” you whispered, disbelief coloring your tone as you shook your head.

“Yes,” he insisted. “If I had it my way, I’d have picked Irene. She was, after all, the first woman to truly catch my eye. I could never love you, because you’d always be the other woman in my eyes. It was Irene that I loved… Not you.” Another moment passed, and you wanted to say something, anything, but your mind was spinning too fast for you to fathom a response. “I’m sorry.”

Before you could respond, he held his had out and dropped the phone beside him.

“Sherlock!” you screamed, louder than you’d ever screamed in your life. Your heart was beating so fast, you thought a heart attack was imminent.  

But he ignored you, he held his arms out to his sides and stepped off. He fell for what seemed like forever, and yet, it seemed like an instant. You wanted to move, to catch him, to break his fall, to… something! But you couldn’t move.

Not until you heard the sound of his body hitting the pavement. That sickeing sound. You’d never heard anything like that.

For a moment, you swayed, sure that you would throw up or that your buckling knees would give out. Then your mind started to work again and you began running towards him, but a bicyclist had hit you, knocking you to the ground. In your shocked state, you didn’t feel it, but your head had smacked against the pavement.

Finally, you stood up and stumbled your way over to him. There was blood... so much blood. A crowd of people tried to hold you back.

“No, he’s my boyfriend!” you shouted, pushing through them until you landed in front of him. Within a second, your brother was at your side.

“Y/N...Y/N,” he said, looking at you. “Oh, God,” he moaned, his face going to Sherlock’s body. “Sherlock… Sherlock…” he whispered in a daze.

You went to reach towards him but people kept pulling you off of him. John tried to take his pulse, but someone had gotten his hand away too.

A gurney rolled up with paramedics and they turned him over, his lifeless eyes staring up, his hair matted in blood. That was all you needed for the light to leave your own eyes as you passed out on the ground next to his body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[rwbyremnants]

THIS CHAPTER [these warnings contain spoilers!!!!]

Enabler: tickling, snuggles, brief blowjob. July: dick-slap, cock worship, foot worship, dirty talk/domination, light ageplay, footjob. Xiaodipus (Raven/Yang): very slight hints

PSA: anal without a condom is maybe not a great idea. Do your own research before trying.

=Chapter 19

BLAKEYWAKEY: You’ve been super quiet latelyyyy how’s it goin with stepmommmmm

In all seriousness, Yang should have expected the message. She and Blake really hadn’t been texting much since right after she walked in on Summer sunbathing, so she had to have been stewing in her curiosity about how things went after that.

ME: Dude nooooo XD ME: But it’s going fine I promise

BLAKEYWAKEY: I smell lies BLAKEYWAKEY: LIESSSSSSS

ME: LISTEN BINCH

“Who ya talkin’ to?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she nudged Ruby with her shoulder to get her to go away. “Nobody, nosy.”

“I get to look at who my girlfriend’s talking to,” she protested with a slight sing-song to her voice as she sat on the arm of the loveseat. “Blake? Your teammate, right?”

“Yeah. Roomie, too.”

“Should I be jealous?” For that, Yang did reach up and flick Ruby’s ear. “OW!”

BLAKEYWAKEY: LISTEN TO WHAT U AINT TALKINNNN

ME: DROP IT BROOOO

Apparently, Ruby decided this was completely her business, because she reached over to scroll up in the chat. Yang didn’t even bother fighting her; there didn’t seem to be much point. When she saw what they were talking about, she sighed and wrapped her arms around Yang’s head.

“Wha- Ruby, what are you doing?”

“Sorry, I know this is still kinda weird. I shouldn't tease.”

Grumbling under her breath, she hugged back and kissed Ruby’s cheek. “It’s cool, really. I’m pretty much over it by now; like you said, if I can get over banging you then it’s kinda ridiculous to get all hung up about your mom like, sitting on my lap one time.”

“Yeah.” Then she relaxed her arms into a more casual hug. “But I’m surprised you told her about that. Must have really been messing with your head if you were telling someone else.”

“Well… I told her about Summer, not… y’know.” When Ruby raised her eyebrows, she barrelled ahead, “I just don’t know how to even start that conversation! What the hell do you say? ‘By the way, I’m totally in love with this cute chick who just happens to be half-related to me, but don’t worry about that part’?!”

“No, I get it,” she snorted as she kissed her forehead. All the little kisses and hugs were definitely having the desired effect, and she was feeling a lot less self-conscious and depressed. “Love you. And you’ll figure it out; maybe…”

A little gleam crept into Ruby’s eye. Yang knew that was dangerous, so she immediately asked, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, seriously, tell me. Or I’ll tickle you.”

“Tickle away,” she said airily. “I’m not telling.” So of course, she immediately fell to digging her hands into her half-sibling’s side, causing her to writhe and flail, screeching, “NOOOO!!! Never, never, hahahahaa!”

“TALK! Or I’ll go for your feet!”

“You’ll- ahahaha! -you’ll go for those, anyway!” But instead, Yang dug her lips into Ruby’s neck, which caused her laughter to spike upward by an octave.

“Enough, you two.”

They broke apart when they saw Summer sitting on the couch. How had neither of them noticed her enter? Apparently, they really were just that preoccupied with each other. Struggling for breath, Ruby sat up a little and said, “Hey, Mom!”

But “Mom” didn’t answer right away. Her eyes were narrowed at the two of them, enough to make Yang duck her head slightly even though she hadn’t said anything cruel or judgmental; only asked them to calm down. After the groom had gone so quiet they could hear the clock ticking in the dining room, she finally spoke.

“Ah.”

“Ah, what?” Summer only nodded knowingly, which made Ruby squeak, “Ah, what, Mom?!”

At the nodding, Yang slowly began to feel her cheeks heating up even before she quite realised why. Then it hit her conscious brain all at once. Into Ruby’s ears, she hissed, “I think she knows.”

“Knows what?” It took a couple more seconds before Ruby’s head sunk down into her shoulders. “Oh.”

“Pretty much written all over your faces, girls. So I guess… that suggestion I was going to make that even though you’re committed to doing this, you might not want to take it too far…”

“Little late, yeah,” Yang said in a small voice.

The woman pushed up from the couch and sat on the loveseat, the two girls scooting to either side to make room for her to squeeze in. Was she going to yell at them? No - she pulled them in for a hug. Yang felt slightly more awkward about it, but she was so grateful for the comfort when she had been expecting a reprimand that she couldn’t even care.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for being so… well, it’s over and done with, and I hope it went alright for the both of you.”

“Went better than ‘alright’,” Ruby couldn’t help giggling. But when her mother groaned, she winced and whispered, “Sorry!”

“We were careful,” Yang told her before she could ask; she already knew it was coming.

“I’m glad for that,” she sighed. “Just… come to me if being careful turns out to be not careful enough. I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but we can’t have any ‘accidents’. Not in this situation.”

Ruby looked a little sad about that, and didn’t answer. Therefore, Yang took it upon herself to reach behind Summer to pat her girlfriend’s back as she said, “Yeah. No webbed-footed babies.”

“That’s a total misconception!” Ruby couldn’t seem to keep from saying. “There’s only a tiny chance that inbred children will have any deformities at all, and webbed feet aren’t usually part of that!”

Both of them just stared at her until she began to look embarrassed at speaking up. Then Summer kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry. Just want to make sure you’re careful. Besides that chance of deformity, it’s also… social ramifications.”

“Dad,” Yang guessed.

“Yes. And me, in a lesser sense. And the rest of everyone you know. The relationship will be difficult enough but when you bring children into the mix…”

In a would-be grumpy voice, Ruby accused, “Thanks for depressing us, Mom.” But it was pretty clear by her sigh afterwards that she knew that wasn’t her intention.

“Sorry. But in the middle of your happiness, I think you need that dose of realism. Before you do something you can never explain away, or say the wrong thing to the wrong person.”

“We know,” Yang assured her, though privately she did worry that Ruby maybe cared a lot less than she did. “And we’re going to keep this on the down-low, don’t worry.”

“I’ll trust that means keeping it a secret,” the older woman laughed, rubbing up and down their upper arms. “And… it’s really weird to me still, but please know that I am happy that you’re happy right now. Hard for me to suppress my maternal instinct to knock your heads together, but I’m happy.”

“We get it, Mom. And it’s hard because you want Yang’s D so much.”

“Enough,” she grunted as she stood up.

“You could still have my D, you know,” Yang offered in a conversational tone. “Just ask your daughter if she’ll loan me out.”

Ruby clapped her hands excitedly. “It’ll be like a library system!”

“I SAID ‘ENOUGH’, YOU LITTLE WEIRDOS! GOD!”

But they kept up the teasing all morning. At one point, Yang went a little too far and Summer threatened to kick her in the junk, but when Yang swallowed in fear she rolled her eyes and admitted that she was only joking. It was going to take a while for them to figure out how to poke fun at each other about this without taking it seriously and nearly hurting one another.

The silliness was interrupted by a trip to the mall, where the two girls picked up a few more fun things - including a strap-on from that ubiquitous joke store, which Yang kept trying to insist she did not need Ruby to buy but she wouldn’t listen. She just kept insisting that she wanted to be “fair” to her girlfriend, and the crimson-faced blonde just tried not to die while they were checking out.

Summer was horrified when Ruby decided it was necessary to show her their purchase. Then she glanced at Yang and looked even more horrified, though Yang certainly wasn’t in any mood or position to tease her about it then. Lucky Ruby got to laugh about it and skip off to stash it in her room and leave the other two to look both slightly ill and thoroughly ashamed.

“That didn’t take you long.”

“Wh-what?” Yang said, clearing her throat.

“Kicking things up a notch,” she went on with a sigh, collecting her limeade and her silk robe to head out onto the deck for her afternoon ritual. “Didn’t you literally take my daughter’s virginity last night?”

Sighing at that choice phrasing, Yang insisted, “I didn’t ‘take’ anything; we gave our virginity to each other. And it’d be great if you’d stop acting like I’m some man who doesn’t care where he sticks his dick.”

At that, the elder Rose looked up sharply. “Did I say that? Of course not. Please don’t put words in my mouth, Yang.” But at Yang’s pointed stare, she sighed and set down the limeade. “Alright. It is a little difficult because she’s my daughter, but it’s a lot less to do with your birth gender than my being protective of my baby.”

“I’m taking care of her. Like, really taking care, not the ‘wink wink’ taking care. I… there’s no way for me to say this that’ll sound like I mean it to you, is there?”

“No. But I can tell you do, even if it’s not the words. I can see in you the same things that made me realise how great Tai is…” Then she cleared her throat and picked up the glass. “Probably part of the reason why I can’t seem to stop teasing you, if I’m being honest.”

“Right. Um…” Scratching the back of her head, she cleared her throat. “There’s just a lot of feelings with that. I mean, being compared to my dad is weird now that I’m out, but like, he’s also a great person, so… I, um…”

“Don’t have to explain to me.” They both more or less understood what she was trying to say. “Now, I’m going out to sunbathe. You can join me if you want, or if Ruby never comes back and you’re bored.”

“But you sunbathe nude.”

“So? Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Again, that half-teasing, half-indifferent tone. Yang watched as Summer went out to set her limeade on the table next to the chaise lounge. Kept watching through the sliding glass door as she stripped her clothing off from the trip to the mall. When she went for the underwear, she turned away and busied herself getting a Coke from the fridge.

“Check out this Ryuko figurine I found in the back of my sock drawer!” Ruby announced when she made it to the kitchen. “Doesn’t the hair remind you of me? I was kind of thinking about her when I got the red put in, but I forgot that was… why I… Yang, are you okay?”

“F-fine,” she said, clearing her throat and smiling as she took another sip of soda. “Who’s Ryuko?”

But Ruby had spotted her mother’s body through the door. Her lip curled and she went, “Ewww, are you perving on my mom again?!”

“NO! God, stop it! She’s the one who won’t completely quit teasing me!”

The way she put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips was more like a ‘Stop playing those video games and help me make dinner’ expression a girlfriend might give her significant other, rather than anything about finding multiple family members attractive. “She doesn’t tease you that much. Can’t you just ignore it if it’s really bugging you?”

“Can I? I mean…” Clearing her throat, she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the sliding glass door. “She invited me to catch some rays with her. Naked! Like, maybe it wouldn’t have been weird before all this stuff happened, but it is now, right?”

Ruby thought about that for a second. Then she shrugged. “Do you wanna do that?”

“I… not really, it’s too weird.”

“Are you sure? Because I think you kinda do wanna, but feel like me or Mom are gonna yell at you, or judge you. Like, don’t you wanna go back to the East Coast with a tan?”

“I don’t wanna go back to the East Coast with a story about how I popped a boner in front of your mom while we were both naked.”

Again, she took a moment to think that over. “Well… okay, we did just bang last night. And you came pretty hard! If you’re ever gonna make it through tanning nude with Mom, it’ll be today. Just, like… I’ll come with you! I don’t care about seeing my mom naked, and you might feel less weird if you’re not alone with her.”

That did actually make a certain sense to her. Sighing, she set down her coke and began to shuck her shorts. “Fine… let’s get this over with.”

So they all sunbathed nude together on the deck, and Yang simply kept her eyes off Summer’s lounge chair. And to her surprise… it worked. She had been so satisfied by Ruby the night before that she didn’t even feel more than a slight stirring. It did a lot to ease the lingering tensions between the three of them, because Summer barely even moved when Yang settled in next to her, and then went right back to lying on her stomach and soaking in the rays. Welcome progress.

The only hiccup was when Yang was sunning on her back and Summer got up to refill her limeade. Seeing Yang on full display was an experience she hadn’t had yet - the only one of them who hadn’t seen the other naked before. Even through her sunglasses, Yang noticed her bite her lip for a moment before shaking her head and stubbornly sending herself inside. That did make her twitch briefly but it was easier to ignore than it would have been any day before that one.

“This is going pretty well,” Ruby whispered from Yang’s other side.

“Your mom wants the D,” she hissed back, and they both giggled. “But yeah, you’re right; I just… get too into my own head about this stuff, I guess.”

Swinging her legs over the side, she moved from her own chair to Yang’s, sitting next to her hip. “I like it when you get into my head.”

“Ruby…” She wasn’t going to be able to keep holding herself at bay if she teased her any more than that. Especially with them both being nude, and outside!

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled. “Actually… I just wanted to steal a little kiss before she comes back.” So she leaned down to catch Yang’s lips before either of them could think too much. It was a sweet kiss, but with just a tinge of heat. Only a minute or so went by before Ruby pulled back, wiping at her lip with a little impish gleam in her silvery eyes before she went back to her own chair.

“Brat,” Yang shot at her as they laughed. And it was just as well, because Summer returned at that moment. “Topped yourself off?”

“I… did. And it looks like I missed something.” She first thought the elder woman meant their laughing, but then she noticed where her eyes were pointed.

“O-oh…” She tried to twitch her legs together to hide the erection, but it didn’t work in the slightest, so she moved to drape a hand over it. “I…”

“No need to explain. Please.” Clearing her throat, she retook her place on her chaise lounge, cheeks a little red beneath the frames of her sunglasses. “And I trust I don’t have to ask you to take that inside if you can’t help yourselves?”

“Of course! Yeah, don’t worry!”

[WARNING: The rest of this chapter is both July-heavy and foot-heavy, and can be canon or non-canon to you without affecting the rest of the story much, take it or leave it! PenpalPenny I hope you’re happy lmao]

But Ruby was strangely silent. A few minutes passed as they all went back to reclining and sunning their fronts. Yang was just thinking about rolling over onto her stomach, at least to hide the erection that wouldn’t seem to diminish, when Ruby sat up.

“Bathroom. You guys enjoy, I’ll be back!” She tipped her sunglasses a little lower so Yang would see her winking at her as she grabbed up her phone and headed for the door inside. All the while, that clever, self-satisfied look remained on her face.

A few seconds passed in silence. Summer was stubbornly quiet, so Yang decided she needed to speak up. “Um…”

“I said it’s fine.”

“Okay. Just didn’t want… n-nevermind.” Then they both received a text. Yang grabbed for her phone, noticing that Summer wasn’t doing the same as she read the message.

RUBES: Hey so I think I ate something weird at the food court idk… but I’ll be in here for at least another 15. If you guys need more time just text me back C:

“Oh my GOD,” Yang couldn’t help bursting out as she facepalmed. Unless she was mistaken, this wasn’t just a notice about her bowel issues. It was permission. Was Ruby serious?! She read the text over and over again, and could come up with no response. That was crazy. The whole situation was already crazy, and there Ruby wanted to make it crazier.

When Yang never continued further, Summer sighed. “Did she sent you nudes or something? That girl…”

“No, not… exactly.”

Only then did Summer go for her own phone. Yang braced for impact, and was surprised when Summer only nodded and sat the phone down on the table next to her beverage.

“You… okay?”

“Sure. So, which of us is going to be on top?”

Yang was still sputtering when she caught Summer’s deadpan look and realised she was joking. “Oh… u-umm, sorry, I really…. Yeah, that’s dumb of me.”

“I really don’t know what goes on in her head,” she sighed as she took a sip, trying to settle back but clearly looking a little restless now. “And I normally don’t, but this is… does she really think I’m going to throw away my marriage over this? A weird, awkward, incestuous situation like we’re in? It’s ludicrous.”

“Well, I don’t think Ruby sees the complications. She just looks at it really simply; you turned me on, I turned you on, so we should probably do something about it. Even if that’s weird and not something we’re interested in trying…”

“Interest is not the same thing as intent. I mean… you’re a very attractive young woman, Yang. I’ve never been into women before other than simply admiring their looks objectively, but then again, you’re the first one whose dick I’ve seen. I’ll admit, it’s… a little confusing for my brain, since my generation was different from yours.”

At that, Yang tried not to be too offended; she knew Summer was simply being truthful. “You mean I’d have been a ‘drag queen’ and that’s it? Yeah, I know. Dad kinda says the same stuff. You’re a little younger than him, though… maybe it’s not too late.”

A little laugh escaped Summer’s throat as she smiled over at Yang. “Good. I’m doing my best, and don’t want to imagine that it’s ‘too late’ for me to evolve. But it’s not too late for him, either, you know.”

“I know.” A little smile pulled at her lips thinking of the conversation they had while playing pool. Which made her decide even faster. “We don’t have to do anything besides just talk. Just because Ruby’s giving us a ‘pass’...”

“What, you don’t want me to go down on you?” Summer chuckled. But when Yang made a choking noise, she laughed louder. “I’m sorry! You really are sweet; I’m only kidding, Yang.”

“W-well… I mean, that’d probably feel great, but let’s not.”

“I wouldn’t give you that kind of hold over me, anyway. Not that you would, but if you ever told Tai anything went on between us…”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” she assured her immediately. “You think I want to have that horrible conversation with him, even just to get back at you for… for whatever? Watch him be disappointed in me? Hell no. Trust me, I’m not telling him a thing, and I’m not really into blackmailing people if I can help it, anyway.”

The small smile that pulled at Summer’s sweet lips was a gentle one. “Like I said, sweet.” Then she bit her lip again. It really did seem to be an involuntary reaction, but that was twice it had happened so close together.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Taking a guess, she whispered, “You wanna touch it.”

“No.” Another heartbeat later, she cleared her throat and shrugged her tanned shoulders. “Alright, so I do, but that doesn’t make it right.”

“Knew it.” The slight softening was basically gone, and Yang tried not to draw attention to it. “Um… I don’t know, maybe I should go inside.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re adults in control of our actions, Yang. If you want an all-over tan, me wanting you to hit me in the face with that shouldn’t stop you.”

That was the most direct she had ever been, even including sitting on her lap and grinding. Yang stared at her for a moment, and Summer had the decency to flush a little deeper, even if she otherwise remained absolutely still and inscrutable behind her sunglasses. Yang had to wonder if her nipples were a little stiffer than they had been before…

“Well… hitting you in the face with it isn’t really that big a deal, is it? I could do that if you want me to.”

“But you won’t…” A second later, when Yang hadn’t answered, she turned to look at her more directly. “Yang, that is not a good idea.”

“Why not?” She was already turning and sitting on the edge of the chaise lounge. “Literally one half-second of contact?”

“Because it might turn into more than that half-second. And even so, a really fast moment of cheating is still cheating.” But Yang was already straddling her, knees on either side of Summer’s hips. “Yang!”

“Look at it and tell me you don’t want to be hit in the face with it. That you were lying before.” Summer’s tongue wetted her lips as she stared at the thick length hovering a few inches from her face. “Okay, good. Now if you tell me to go sit down again, I’m gonna. Promise. Like, I’m not going to slap you with my dick against your will; it’s a weird thing to do in the first place, right? I’ve never heard of-”

“Make it quick,” Summer hissed, glancing at the sliding door and then taking off her sunglasses. Her eyes looked concerned and ashamed, but she had already resigned herself to doing this.

“Okay. Um, which way? Across the cheek?” A quick nod. “Alright. Um… one, two… three!”

The slap was one of the oddest sensations Yang had ever experienced. A thrill of erotic energy shot through her length and into her stomach as she made contact, partly just from shifting it from one side to another with her hand, and partly from feeling the cheek push back against it for the brief second. Summer’s head only twitched to one side by an inch or so, and she let out a quiet gasp, but otherwise seemed to handle herself fine.

“A-ah…” Her eyes remained cast off to one side. “Well. Now you’ve done it.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“No, I meant that literally; you did it. Now we… we can cross it off the list. That is all.” Clearing her throat, she nodded toward the other chaise lounge. “Maybe you should go back to sunning yourself.”

But Yang was watching her carefully. After a second, she asked, “Was it… good? Bad? I dunno.”

“Too good.” Her cheeks were redder than Yang had ever seen them, and she pressed her lips together for a moment as ragged breaths went in and out through her nostrils. “And… to answer the question… it is a weird thing to do. I don’t know why I like that; I shouldn’t. But I always have.”

Experimentally, Yang gave her another, softer slap; she barely flinched at the second one. “Don’t worry about it. Um… you’re right, we should stop. I think Ruby just wanted us to try this and get it out of our systems.”

“She can see how we keep getting turned on by each other on accident,” Summer remarked, face twitching toward the length but not quite close enough to touch. Yang responded by bringing it downward instead of from the side, laying it across her eye and the side of her nose, the corner of her mouth. And leaving it there. “Mmm… warm. Hard yet soft.”

“Your face is pretty warm, too.” She shook the base again, and slapped it down onto Summer twice more, earning a slight fluttering of eyelashes each time. “This doesn’t make you feel… I dunno, gross? Like I’m treating you like a ‘thing’ or something?”

She admitted more than Yang ever needed to know. “It does. That’s why I like it. I… can put myself more easily into the state of mind that I’m about to be… used if I’m treated like this from the start.”

“But I’m not going to use you!” she hissed in alarm, and Summer smiled a little. “What?”

“I know. You’re too sweet for that. But… before I married… there were plenty of guys who passed me around. Did what they wanted. I started liking it too much, finding it too easy to let them get away with anything. I was at a pretty low point because of that when I met Tai, and he changed everything. Made me feel confident again, like my own person. Not that it was all him; I had it inside myself. The annoyance with what I became, and the willingness to change. I just needed that one little push.”

Somehow, this time Yang wasn’t finding herself repulsed by talking about Summer being with her dad, even while her cock was rubbing around her face. Maybe it was because the story was more about Summer than anything. “Then… I should quit. I don’t want to make you feel bad about yourself again.”

“But I already told you - it feels good. And because it’s someone I trust, I can handle it; I can know that afterward, I will still be treated like a person.” At that, a wicked smile flashed over her lips. Yang knew she was about to get ‘revenge’ somehow, and she was right. “Tai knows my limits and is willing to explore them with me, too. He’s done exactly what you’re doing right now.”

Definitely revenge. Yang’s stomach gave a sick lurch, and she felt like spinning to one side and throwing up. But it wasn’t a strong enough negative reaction. Also, Summer gave her length a little kiss at that exact second, and she sighed, staying put.

“But I’m not going to do for you what I do for him, Yang. Don’t worry. I… can admit that you’re gorgeous, and that I really want this big, beautiful sausage down my throat… or elsewhere… but we won’t. Because we’re stronger.” Purely to remind herself, she whispered, “I’m stronger.”

“You guys are right; I’m just hot for Rose women.” They both smiled. “Um… so if I’m not going back to my chair, but you’re not going to do anything with it… I just… like I’m really not trying to be a jerk, but what else are we even doing?”

While she had been speaking, Summer was taking a deep inhale of Yang’s head, basking in the natural musk. Then she opened her eyes and whispered, “You could give me a facial or something. I won’t help, but I’ll let you finish on me. And you could slap me with it a few more times during; I don’t mind.”

“I’m curious…” She did give Summer a slap from the opposite direction, and it earned a very soft sigh of satisfaction. “Um… what was I going to ask? Right - uh, if I weren’t so nice and ordered you around after doing this, would it work? Like… if I told you to get on your hands and knees and just take it…”

“No,” Summer told her, but she didn’t look offended or angry at the question. “I’m put in the mood for it, but I’m not hypnotised; if Tai did it, I would obey him instantly because we’re in a permanent partnership. He’s the one I will do that for unless I’m not in the mood to play at all. And I would picture submitting to you, letting you have your way with me… but ultimately, no, I would simply tell you that I won’t be doing that.”

The mental images were making her throb, and Summer noticed, nuzzling it very slightly. “G-good. I, um… I know this will sound dumb, but I was kind of worried… that I might…”

“You aren’t making me do anything against my will,” she headed her off. “I’m doing things against my better judgment, of course, but I’m doing them. My actions, my dubious choices.”

“That’s a relief.” Summer did raise a hand, but only to gently pat Yang’s hip in reassurance; she appreciated it, despite the strange situation. “Um… I don’t know if I can come on your face. That seems like… I can’t…” Taking another breath, she whispered, “I respect you too much, which I know is stupid to say with my balls on your chin, but…”

“Stop being so sweet or I’ll bake you into a pie,” she chuckled, petting up and down her hip. Then she had a thought. “Hmm… I think I know something that will work out for us. A little strange, and a new one for me, but in a way this will be a lot less intolerable for our situation.”

“Oh?” Her lips drifted up to the head, tongue sliding out to run along the underside. “A-ah! I thought you-”

“One for the road. Alright, back up a little; further down the deck chair.” When Yang obeyed, scooting down until she was straddling Summer’s knees instead, the woman rolled over onto her stomach. Yang tried not to let out a sigh at seeing her pert little ass, but it was audible enough that Summer smirked over her shoulder.

“Okay… I… so what’s going on, you want me to grind on your butt or something?”

“Not exactly.” Then her legs flexed, and she felt an ankle brush past her sack as two feet raised upward between her own legs, poking very lightly at her hips.

“Oh… no.”

Summer’s voice was full of rich sensuality, though it was a little over the top. “Oh yes. This has been something you’ve been trying to avoid for a while, I think.”

“You want me to jerk off onto your feet?!”

“No, no; I want to jerk you off with my feet.” When Yang only blinked down at her, she whispered, “And I will. Or you can just nibble them while you do it, or if you lay on the deck I’ll step on you. However you want to handle it, that’s what we’ll do; like I said, I haven’t done much of this before.”

“You and Ruby, I wear to god…”

But she wasn’t fighting against this. Why? It was a weird idea, and she wanted to be annoyed, but at the same time it wasn’t nearly as straight-up ‘cheating’ as if Summer were to give her a blowjob… or if they actually had sex. Maybe it was a technicality, but it was one that they could both live with. As she stared down at the toes, still painted with the polish she had put on herself, she remembered them pushing into her face once before and had to admit, she really did dig them. Both sets of Rose toes.

“You probably think I’m a freak,” she whispered as she traced a fingertip along one of the soles. Her toes curled, causing the thicker skin to wrinkle slightly.

“Hmmhmm,” she laughed very slightly from being tickled. “A little. But most people are freaks in one way or another; it’s just a matter of whether or not their oddities are known to others. Or did you already forget how much I liked having my face smacked with your dick?”

“Do you really want me to…”

But Yang didn’t even finish her thought. Instead, she did as she had been ‘taught’ by the woman’s daughter and sank down lower to begin showering one foot with kisses, letting out noises of pleasure as she did so. Summer was doing the same, though hers sounded more calm, sure of herself; she knew that this was mostly for Yang’s benefit and didn’t seem to mind reminding her, even if only with wordless hums.

“Say something,” Yang finally whispered as she moved to the other foot.

“Like what?” In an intentionally poor acting voice, she said, “Oh, yeah. That’s it. Kiss those feet.”

Sighing, she pulled back for a second. “Um, I dunno. What would you normally say if… you know what? I don’t know what I’m asking, either.”

For a few seconds, there was silence as Yang kissed, and began to let her tongue flick out against the skin. Then Summer tried something that surprised her.

“Filthy little slut loves my feet, doesn’t she?”

“What?!”

“That’s right, you heard me.” The toes curled up to push into Yang’s lips. “Worship them. I want to feel that tongue clean my dirty feet some more.”

Shame flooded through Yang’s face and stomach, but at the same time… she felt her arousal twitch. Hard. When she kissed again, the entire foot pressed into her face, and she caught the ankle with one hand as she began to worship it more.

“What did I say?!” Realising her mistake, she began to lick more than kiss, all over the sole. “That’s right… everywhere. You love this, don’t you? You want more, you want my feet all to yourself.” As she slid her tongue between two of the toes, she snapped, “Answer me!”

“Uh-huh!” Yang managed to moan out, hips unintentionally grinding up and down on the deck chair as she sucked harder on the slightly salty toes. Utter disbelief was her main thought; she was really doing this. And she wasn’t hating it. Even though she had enjoyed trying this first with Ruby, and preferred the gentler teasing and encouragement, something about being ordered around was too hot to be denied.

“Mmm,” Summer was moaning, beginning to flex them inside Yang’s mouth, which only added to the experience. “Little slut needs my dirty toes in her mouth. Thinks they’re so beautiful that she can’t help herself. Gets hard as a rock thinking about doing this, about cleaning my feet with her eager lips and tongue…”

“Y-yes, ma’am!” she managed to groan as she moved along, taking the big toe all the way in and polishing it all over with her tongue. “Mmhhh!”

“I think you wanted this the moment you got here,” she continued to tease. “With both of us. All you see are feet, everywhere you look… having both of us on your face at once? That was a dream come true.”

“N-no, I-”

“Shut up. Just lick the heels now.” Yang didn’t even protest, only moved up to the heel and trailed her tongue up along the sole as she went, then began to suck and lick all over the circular region. “Mmm… yes, you like this. Want to do it even more now that you’ve had a taste.”

Maybe she was right about some of this. Though before, she would have said she had no interest in this particular kink, at all, clearly she had started paying attention to Ruby’s little tootsies the minute she got to the house. Just how far back did the interest go, if it had been lurking beneath the surface before this trip?

“Massage while you do it. I want to enjoy this as much as you are.” Yang raised her hands and began to knead the sole, moving her mouth back to the toes because it was easier to do at that angle. “Mmmm, good. Oh, that tongue is very thorough…”

By the time Yang switched to the other foot, she had more or less covered the one in her own saliva, even if it was drying on some parts by then. She wanted to hate it, and to think it tasted gross, and smelled awful, and everything else she would have expected. Instead, she loved all of those aspects. The scent was somehow reassuring, the salty tang no better or worse than nibbling skin elsewhere on the body… and the taboo of it was keeping her as hard as she had ever been, even without anything other than Summer’s knee to grind it against.

“Harder,” she ordered, in reference to her massaging fingers. “They need tender loving care.”

Something slipped out. It was a call-and-response. Unbeknownst to Summer, she had said the last bit in just the right tone, and with Yang’s thoughts so distracted by the sheer insanity of what they were doing together, she wasn’t thinking when she pulled off the toes to speak as she kneaded the sole harder with her fingers.

“Yes, Mommy.”

They both froze for a moment. Yang’s face drained of all colour when it hit her what she had called Summer. That was not only bad, but very, very wrong considering what kind of activity they were engaged in. Why had she said that?!

It was Summer who recovered first, of course. She was gazing over her shoulder at Yang, but as she watched her carefully, she finally whispered, “Don’t stop now. Mommy’s feet need their massage.”

“I…” Yang wanted to panic and run away, but being commanded almost gave her no choice but to obey when her brain had clocked out. She began to knead the sole harder, earning a moan from Summer that made her face and neck feel hot. Why was it even worse now? Because of one little slip of the tongue?

“Say it again,” she urged her, flexing her ankles so that she pressed her toes into Yang’s mouth. This time, she didn’t open up. “You want to. Say it and kiss them.”

Swallowing hard, she did kiss the big toe, and let out a quieter, experimental, “Y-yes, Mommy?” Fresh shame blossomed within her, but she tried to shrug it off as she kissed again.

“That’s better. Now… clean this foot like you did the other one. It’s so filthy. Only your tongue can make Mommy clean again.”

“Ugh!” she burst out, unable to stop the noise. But she also didn’t stop to think, only started licking and leaving brief suction on the rest of the foot, moaning into the skin and tissue beneath. Summer’s noises were similar but with less heat within them, purely for effect. Once she had done her job, she went back to massaging as she threaded her tongue between toes, moving her lips from side to side.

“That’s my girl. She loves toes so very much. Sweet Yang…”

Tears were in her eyes, though she still couldn’t fully understand why. Especially not while she was hard as a rock, and desperate to get off even as she was still enjoying the moment. What the hell was she turning into?!

It wasn’t until she dug in with more gusto and heard one particularly long, relieved sigh from her stepmother that she became consciously aware of the true problem: Summer and Ruby were not the first ones whose feet she had kissed. Her own mother’s were her first. When she was very little, learning to give massages and still naive enough to think that kissing feet wasn’t disgusting, she had done it on quite a few occasions. Of course, Raven had told her that kissing feet was “not something we do”, but she never explained why, so it took a few gentle corrections before it took hold. The hazy memory from the past told her that it hadn’t felt bad at all.

“Do Mommy’s feet taste good?” Summer was asking, and Yang felt her stomach roil even worse now that she understood why she was having such a hard time with that. But she couldn’t turn back; she felt obligated to finish the job, and she was so hard that any form of pleasure was welcome. Memories of doing this for Ruby recently mixed with the past memories of her mother’s feet, and she wanted to cry, or throw herself into the Pacific. But instead, she kept going.

“They do. You love Mommy’s feet; you want her toes in your mouth all the time, to play with your tongue.” She didn’t know how much worse she was making it! “Or do you want them to play with your dick for a while?”

“Huh?” she finally managed to breathe, cheeks wet as her lips.

“I think you need to finish.” Summer was looking at her very intently. “And I think maybe I’ve teased you enough for one afternoon; you look…”

For some reason, seeing that concern prompted her to smile and shrug everything off. Even knowing how messed up her own brain was. “I’m f-fine.”

“Fine, what?” The toes slid up and down Yang’s nude stomach.

“I’m fine, Mommy,” she whispered. This time, Summer could see the self-loathing in her eyes when she went on, “Thank you for letting m-me play with your feet.”

“Of course.” She started to roll over, to ask if she was okay again, but then resettled. “Kneel up and get ready to use Mommy’s feet to finish. I think you’ve earned that much.”

Again, Yang did as she was told. It didn’t take much manoeuvring to get her cock settled between the still-wet forms, both big toes gently pressing into her sack. It felt great, but at that point anything would have. Even the crook of an elbow would have been enough to get her off. After a second or two, Yang began to rock forward into them.

“Mmm, that’s it. Just do whatever you want; Mommy will hold her feet here for you.” Yang did start thrusting into the soft soles, staring down and seeing how it looked and thinking she’d never seen anything so bizarre. Once she set a pace, Summer started shifting to match, stroking her as much as she could. “There… yes, good girl…”

All at once, even as her orgasm built much faster than was normal, Yang knew she didn’t want to do this. That they were making a big mistake that they could never take back. But at the same time, she still knew it could be much worse, so she tried not to beat herself up too much. A snarky little voice inside whispered, ‘At least you aren’t fucking your sister.’

“Very good! More, Yang, harder! Show me how you finish!”

One last time, she called out, “Yes, Mommy!” before she thrust a few more times into the teasing feet and came hard. It spurted down onto Summer’s ass and thighs, which clenched shut immediately as she finished. A few more times, she slammed her hips forward to get the full pleasure from the action, and then she held still, weathering aftershocks.

When Yang was breathing a little easier, Summer glanced over her shoulder. “Um… I hate to interrupt your afterglow, but if you could just wipe that one drip before it goes any further down….?”

“Drip?” Yang saw it a moment later, heading for the union of her stepmother’s thighs. “Oh - y-yeah, I can um… hang on.” Her finger made quick work of it, even though she let out another moan at having to shift around to do so.

“Mmm,” Summer sighed when she heard it. “You really got off hard. I’m a little surprised.”

“Why?”

“Because you went through with it. You were acting so nervous that I didn’t think you would, to be honest.” Her toes flexed and Yang shivered. “Did I do the wrong thing? Well, trick question; I know I did in general. But I’m worried that you didn’t enjoy that in the way you wanted to.”

Clearing her throat, Yang made herself talk. She didn’t want to, but she knew that Summer was now the only person she could talk to about this, so it was her or no one. “Um… I… I think that… the ‘Mommy’ thing wasn’t… I, u-um…”

“Too far. I figured, when I saw you crying.”

“Yeah.” Wiping at her face, reminded the tears were there, she went on, “I think you kinda made me realise that the reason I have a thing for feet is because I used to massage my mom’s. Which is… fucked up.”

Scoffing, Summer stroked her half-hard dick a few more times, earning a soft moan. “Mmm, it is. We’re all fucked up. But I very highly doubt it means you would want to do this with her. Most girls who have ‘daddy issues’ wouldn’t want to do that with their actual father, either. It’s just… a displaced emotional response. Please don’t feel like you’re just hopelessly ‘bad’ because of this one thing.”

That simply, Yang did feel a little less distraught. Not great, but better. “Thanks. Um… and you probably don’t care if I say this or not, but I don’t think you’re ‘cheating’. Like… or you are, but it’s just a weird thing and not a whole thing. Right? I’m… not making any sense.”

“The meaning is coming through,” she laughed. Then she happened to glance over toward the door. “Oh…”

“Oh?” Yang followed her gaze, and saw Ruby with her hands on her hips on the other side, brow furrowed in disapproval. “OH!”

Only then did she open the door and growl, “I told you guys to text me if you needed more time!” Her cheeks were a little red, but mostly she didn’t look too affected.

“You did,” Summer said carefully, holding very still. Yang began to look around to find something to clean up with, but they didn’t really have anything other than the robe. “And… we didn’t. Are you alright?”

After a brief second, she rolled her eyes and went back into the kitchen. When she came back, she was holding a dishtowel and offered it to Yang, who started wiping down Summer’s ass first. “Um… thanks, Rubes, but… well, we didn’t… you kind of set us up for this, but maybe we-”

“Just shut up already, god.” But Ruby was smiling. Somehow, even with this happening, she was smiling. “So maybe I didn’t wanna walk out here and see it, but I’m glad you guys are getting along.”

“Is that what you call this?!”

Laughing once she had been mostly cleaned off, Summer rolled over onto her back again. “Well, I didn’t want to take too much away from you, Ruby. Besides… I think this might have been… therapeutic for Yang, in a way.”

“In what way?” Ruby asked. But when prompted, Summer didn’t answer; she only looked at Yang. Letting it be her decision.

“Nothing,” she sighed. Not ready to dig into that, she instead picked up one of Summer’s ankles and licked a remaining droplet of her own juices from it. “There, all done.”

“Didn’t I just say I didn’t wanna watch?!”

“Don’t come down on her so much,” Summer admonished with a slight sigh. “This whole situation is unfortunate; I think we should be a lot more- RUBY ROSE!”

Her mother’s eyes were wide and her mouth hanging open as she looked on helplessly at Ruby’s mouth wrapping around Yang’s cock, milking the last few droplets. Yang froze, looking between the two of them and having no idea what to do.

“There,” she panted once she pulled off Yang with a pop and licked her lips. “Now we’re even; you probably won’t forget to text me back next time.”

“That was… highly inappropriate! I thought I raised you better than that!”

“You probably raised me better than to jerk off my daughter’s girlfriend with my feet, too, but hey!”

Burying her face in her hands, Yang murmured into them, “Can we please stop using my dick as some weird battleground for you two?”

“No, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Ruby said airily as she rounded the two deck chairs and took her own again, sitting primly and leaning back. “That was all I wanted. You two are forgiven.”

“Little brat,” Summer sighed, though it was clear that she was holding no grudge. As Yang sat down herself, embarrassed and with a whole new subset of weird mental hangups to sort through, she shot over, “So how does it feel knowing that by blowing Yang just now, you also secondhand licked your own mother’s feet?”

All was quiet for a few seconds. Then Ruby cleared her throat.

“Would someone please pass the limeade? I, um, need a palate cleanser.”

NOTE: SOOOOOO. This was the big July chapter; any of you who were waiting for a little more to happen between Summer and Yang, this was it. And the fic is almost over! One chapter and an epilogue and it's done! There are a lot more fanfics on the way, trust me, but it's time to put this tale of incest to bed. Hope you're still enjoying it, everybody!

[thekillingquill]

Not Another Tragic Backstory | 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 + Epilogue Pairing: Jughead x Reader Word Count: 3,105 + Epilogue: 303 Warnings: I solemnly swear. By which I mean, there be curse words below! Also I attempted fluff. Summary: Riverdale has resurrected the Blue & Gold and with it, the Journalism program! This week’s lesson: Human Interest/Profiles. Reader is paired with Jughead who writes an unflattering profile on her, prompting her to confront him about it. A/N: So there are 750 words of this that I wrote before any part of this story and it’s the part where she is going awf on Jughead. I didn’t proofread this and an epilogue is included at the bottom. It’s an attempt at fluff so beware.

When the bell rings for lunch I all but run out of class. I’m the first person in the hall and I keep my head down to avoid seeing anyone who would want to talk to me. I reach in my bag and touch the sharp edges of the profile Jughead Jones has written about me, ensuring that it is still there. It’s a familiar motion, one that I’ve been completing since Ash handed it to me after our journalism class.

Ash’s words have stirred up my nerves. I’m afraid, but I can’t ignore this opportunity. An itch has already started and I know that nothing but reading this article can satisfy it. I opt to duck into the janitor’s closet under the stairs and cringe at the musty odor of a long forgotten room. The lighting in here is terrible so I pull out my phone and use the flashlight function to light up the words.

The headline reads: Y/N Y/L/N A RIVERDALE LEGACY’S PATH TO REDEMPTION and my stomach clenches in fear of what I’m about to read.

The town of Riverdale was founded 75 years ago by six prominent families who each inspired the development of the town. The Y/L/N family had a large hand in cultivating the tone of Riverdale’s community as they, and their descendents, were voted into office for ten terms back to back. This was considered the family business until Mayor Sierra McCoy was elected in light of what is known as the July Scandal.

From the moment she was born Y/N Y/L/N has been on the fast track for a political career. In grade school she participated in numerous National speaking competitions and took first place on four separate occasions. In Junior High she was president of the Debate Club, taking them to Nationals, and organized a Model UN with the schools in nearby towns. She participated in two speaking competitions and placed third and second respectively.

Now a sophomore at Riverdale High Y/L/N is a member of the notorious River Vixens cheer team, co-captain of the Debate team, and will be running for Class President. Today she has foregone the River Vixens uniform for a business casual attire of brand name blue jeans, an ironed blouse and kitten heels.

Y/L/N was four years old when the July Scandal unfolded. During a debate between former Mayor Y/L/N and candidate Mayor McCoy a young woman approached the front of the town hall and asked the former Mayor why he wouldn’t acknowledge his mistake. That woman was an intern at City Hall that the former Mayor had engaged in relations with, resulting in pregnancy. The pregnancy has never been confirmed, but it was a big enough scandal to tip the election in Mayor McCoy’s favour.

Since the July Scandal the Y/L/N family has stepped back from politics to focus on other projects, but it looks as though their legacy will continue with our classmate.

I am so angry that I am visibly trembling. Jughead’s piece goes on and on about how I’m going to essentially spend the rest of my days in Riverdale as a politician in some sort of twisted redemption for my family’s shame. He might has well have written that I’m going to die here and be buried next to my Mayoral ancestors.

Though factually he’s correct about my past, his piece is ignorant and ill-informed about the me of today. I have no intention of running for class president. I didn’t run for the title of class president last year, and I considered it for college applications this year, but I ultimately decided that it wasn’t worth it. The July Scandal didn’t just cost my father the election, but nearly cost him his family. I have no interest in walking down that path, ever.

He goes on to describe myself and the other descendents of the six founding families as legacies and talks about our obligations to the town. It just makes me so sick. This is how he sees me: in the afterglow of a scandal that nearly tore my entire family apart. My shaking rage dissolves into frustrated tears and I know that I can’t stay at school.

I will allow myself one minute to be upset and then I will have to be a big girl. This is a skill that was taught to me early on in life. I am allowed to be upset for a moment, but then I must put it behind me and be a grown up about it. I breathe deeply, wipe my tears, and then start texting Ash.

Hey Ash, I’m not feeling very well so I’m going to go home can you cover for me?

You read it, huh?

It wasn’t as bad as you made it out to be. Which is a lie I need to tell myself right now so that I can hold myself together until I get home.

If that’s what you need to tell yourself babe. It is, for now. My visible shaking has become an unnoticeable quiver by the time that I get home. The anger and sadness, however, has only grown in intensity. I head straight to my room and open my laptop, pouring out all of these emotions in the only way I know how: through writing.

I write poems, small paragraphs, bits of a bigger story and multiple blog posts of 2-3 sentences that are vague and drenched in angst. It’s during my fifth poem that I realize what has happened.

Jughead Jones has broken my heart and he has no idea. Well, that was going to change.

I knew I’d find him at Pop’s. I just didn’t know if I’d find him there alone. On the one hand, the part of me that is hellbent on seeking revenge wants to drag him in front of his friends. On the other hand, the part of me that is scared and heartbroken wants to keep this as private as possible. Less witnesses if I started crying again.

Jughead’s profile on me is rolled up in my clenched fist and I subconsciously squeeze it as I survey the crowd at Pop’s. There are a couple of  families on the other side of the diner having ice cream and milkshakes, a few kids from school studying, and sitting as far away from the crowds as possible is Jughead Jones.

He’s wearing his fur-lined denim jacket and his infamous beanie, staring intensely at his laptop while his fingers move across the keyboard with purpose. Next to his laptop is an empty glass and a plate that is half full (or half empty) of fries. I falter briefly in my mission and know that if I don’t act now then I’m going to end up rolling over and letting this slide.

My strides are so long that it takes me approximately four steps to approach Jughead’s booth. When I do, I slam his profile down on the table so hard that his glass tips to the side, startling him for a second time. He looks up at me, wide-eyed and completely speechless and I try to school my features to hide the fact that it hurt like a son of a bitch to hit the table that hard.

“You don’t know me or what my plans are, Jones.” I say it with as much cold venom as I can muster and slide into the booth across from him. He looks at the wrinkled and slightly curved pages on the table between us. A look of realization crosses his face before it’s replaced by annoyance. He slouches back in the booth and starts eating fries, looking bored and disgusted with the situation.

Yesterday this would have disarmed me. Today, it sustains me and my rage.

“You didn’t ask me a single question to support your profile, so I’ve prepared some of my own.” Jughead opens his mouth to say something, but I hold up one finger and raise my voice over him “One: what are you hopes for the future? Well, Jones, one day I hope to have an extensive mug collection for my modest apartment in any town that isn’t Riverdale.” I put up a second finger and make sure I am holding eye contact with Jughead while I speak.

“Two: why did you decide to take journalism this year? Well Jones, I’ve been writing since they taught us how in elementary school. I thought taking journalism this year might show me a way to turn my hobby into a career. I thought it might help me improve my storytelling. Frankly, I find print journalism to be fascinating.” I give him the most sarcastic smile I can muster.

“Since you are so interested in my past, I feel like I should share with you that when I was younger I thought it would be cool to write for a magazine. Now that I’m in journalism I know without a doubt that I’d like to get at least one piece published in the following magazines either in their print publications or online: Ms. Magazine, BUST, Bitch, Rolling Stone, Variety, Cosmo, and The New Yorker. And here’s a tidbit about the speaking competitions you mentioned in your piece: It’s not just talking to a crowd. I wrote all of those speeches, thank you very much.”

I can tell that Jughead is growing more uncomfortable by the second and I know that my voice is too loud for the crowd at Pop’s. He refuses to meet my eyes and slouches in the corner of the booth with his arms crossed. It feels so so so good to finally say all of this, to not hold back. I hold up a third finger and am tempted to tell him to read between the lines.

“Three: why are you so upset, Y/N? You know, it really warms my heart that you would ask me that. See, you’ve written about 500 words about my character based on things you’ve heard or maybe seen. You didn’t profile me. You wrote assumptions and deductions. The truth is that you don’t know me, Jones. You think you do, but you actually don’t know what I’ve lived through or what drives me or who I love. You don’t even know my favourite colour or what kind of movies I like, but I bet if you were to guess you’d say it was purple and that I like romantic comedies. Well, surprise, bitch! My favourite colour is mint green and I like psychological thrillers.”

I take a deep breath and lean back in my seat. I have officially burned through all of my anger and am left with something else, something softer and heavier all at once. I take a moment to collect myself and evaluate my audience. His eyebrows are furrowed and he is leaning forward with his lips slightly parted. In his eyes I see intrigue. He starts to speak and I cut him off without having to raise my voice.

“I’m not finished yet,” I tell him tiredly. I hold up four fingers and then let my hands rest on the table in front of me. “Four: Y/N, you mentioned that I don’t know what you’ve lived through. Why don’t you elaborate on that and educate me?” I let out a sigh and give Jughead a half smile across the table. “See, now these are the kind of probing questions I had expected of you, Jughead. After all, you are investigating Jason Blossom’s murder and that would involve a certain level of intelligence.”

Jughead reaches up and closes the lid of his laptop and I know he’s truly invested in my mock interview. Maybe it’s because I called him by his first name but it’s probably because I mentioned Jason Blossom.

“Frankly, I don’t think you deserve an answer. However, as a fellow writer, I would hate for the quality of your piece to suffer, so I will give you this much: The only friends I had as a kid were the possessive kind that liked to put me on a shelf when they were done with me. They got angry if someone else acknowledged me. It could be borderline abusive at times, but I’m stronger for it.”

“Are you talking about Cheryl Blossom?” Jughead asks before I can stop him. I shoot him a sarcastic smile.

“Sorry Jughead, you had your chance to ask your questions. Five: Why bother explaining yourself to me?” I choke on my words, but there’s something about how he’s looking at me, really looking at me, that makes me push through my nerves. It’s now or never.

“Because I’ve quietly admired you for years and it really fucking hurt to know that you think so little of me. Meanwhile for the last three months or so I’ve been trying to stop thinking about how you’re the kind of boy who hangs stars in the sky when you smile. That’s a direct quote from a poem I wrote in English class last year. It was about you, as most of my poems these days are.” I close my eyes tightly and take a deep breath, leaning my head back against the booth.

I feel like I’ve just cut the cord tethering me to earth. It never occurred to me just how heavy this secret was, that it had been a constant weight that I’d been carrying around. I’m scared and relieved all at once. I’ve just gathered the energy to leave when Jughead speaks.

"Just because you got personal with me doesn't mean I'm going to spill my tragic backstory to you." His voice is quiet and not unkind. There is an almost teasing lilt to his tone. I open my eyes and he is looking back at me with an indiscernible expression on his face. It’s almost a mixture of uncertainty and awe? I give a mirthless laugh and sit up, mirroring his position with my arms crossed and elbows leaning on the table.

"You think all that was a tragic backstory? Honey, my tragic backstory is going to die with me." I wink and shoot him a flirtatious smile, one that I learned from watching Ash and Reggie.

“Really? Spending your childhood as Cheryl Blossom’s toy isn’t a tragic backstory?” He’s leaning forward over the table and his smirk causes my thighs to press tightly together.

“Not by a longshot, Jones. You’re curious now, aren’t you?” I lean back and try to keep my composure. Jughead follows my movements and leans back against his side of the booth casually.

“No, of course not.”

“I’m starting to see why you don’t say a lot. You’re a terrible liar.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” He asks me, tone serious.

“No,” I answer him softly. My smile is no longer flirtatious, but fond. His honesty is one of the things I like most about him. Followed by his passion for things. I like how soft he looks when he thinks no one is looking. I like his tenacity and his independence and his way of viewing the world.

“Can I… can I buy you a milkshake?” He asks, sounding uncertain of himself.

“I would love that.” I try to tone down my enthusiasm, but his smirk tells me that I’ve failed. I enjoy getting to admire the object of my affections up close and personal. I expect him to shy away from my hungry eyes, but he seems to be looking back just as intensely. The tension in Pop’s threatens to choke me, so I smile softly at him and start a new conversation.

“I never got to finish my interview in class today. So, question five: tell me, when did you realize that you were a pretentious twat or have you not figured it out yet?”

“It’s recently been brought to my attention,” he admits with a smile.

“I’m happy to say that a lot of you did well with your profile assignments. Jughead Jones, in particular, excelled with his profile on Y/N Y/L/N and will have the privilege of interviewing Mayor McCoy.” Mrs. Cooper is holding up a copy of Jughead’s assignment and I can’t help but to look look at him over my shoulder. His eyes are already on me and he quirks his eyebrow, tossing a potato chip in his mouth. He smirks while he chews. Asshole.

I flip him off with as much subtlety as possible.

“I’ll be leaving the profile on my desk for anyone who is interested in reading it after class.”Ash glares at Jughead over her shoulder and sends me a sympathetic smile. I wave off her concern and pass her a note, encouraging her to read it again after class.

Mrs. Cooper launches into a discussion on what we did well and what needs work and I smile down at my notebook. I sneak glances over my shoulder and he’s always looking back at me with that intensity that attracts me like a moth to a flame.

At the end of class Ash all but sprints to get her hands on Jughead’s profile. I watch him pack up his things and follow behind him as he leaves the room. Reggie Mantle is standing outside of the classroom. He and Ash must be very much on right now if he’s walking her to and from classes again. He smirks when he sees Jughead and puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from passing.

“Where’s the fire, Wednesday Addams? Off to plan your next murder?”

I force my way under Jughead’s arm, wrapping my arm tightly around his waist. He looks startled by my appearance.

“Actually Reg, we’re headed to the bleachers to make out so you and Ash should go somewhere else today.” I twist out from under Jughead’s arm, grabbing his hand and walk backwards so that I’m facing him. He, along with Reggie and a few other students in the hall looks stunned.

“Do you not want to make out under the bleachers?” I ask him teasingly. He smirks and jerks his arm backwards bringing me chest to chest with him.

“You’re being cheeky,” he tells me lowly.

“I’m being daring,” I counter, pushing up on the tips of my toes to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “So do you want to go behind the bleachers or no?”

Jughead smirks and laces our fingers, taking the hall that will bring us outside to the football field.

EPILOGUE

When I left for college Jughead gave me picture frame and inside of it was an article he had cut out of The New Yorker. It’s the one I wrote in junior year after we, along with his friends, solved the murder of Jason Blossom. My first published piece, but not my last.

Jughead took a gap year to promote his book and when it reached the New York Times Bestseller list, I printed it off and had it framed. I gave it to him in person on the anniversary of the day I stormed into Pop’s to yell at him for being presumptuous. I still get dizzy thinking about the way I kissed him that night, with his back pushed up against the pillar on my front porch.

I found my modest apartment in Salem. Jughead populated my mug collection by sending me one from each city he visited and one from every hotel chain he stayed at while on tour with his book. If I had to pick a favourite, it would be the two he brought from Pop’s the night he sold the movie rights to his book. We drank cheap champagne from them and he drunkenly confessed his desire to marry me.

He presents me with a scrapbook six months later. Every magazine article that I’d gotten published is cut out and pasted down on its own page. Underneath or beside the article are handwritten notes from Jughead: little comments or thoughts he had about the piece.

On the last page is a mock article he has written. Our wedding announcement. Underneath it he has taped the engagement ring I wear now. I twist it around my finger and listen to Jughead caressing the keys to his computer in the next room and I am so so so happy.

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