#''evil dies tonight'' shut the fuck up

[wander-over-the-words]

I honestly thought Halloween Kills was a fine film - not great, not awful, just fine, can watch it without much issue - but I cannot fucking get over the scene where they mistake the mental patient for Michael and get him killed by scaring him so much, he throws himself out the window

like??? how in the FUCK do you EVER mistake a man who is injured and terrified of you for MICHAEL FUCKING MYERS

[boytearscore]

i dare you to try. — chris sturniolo.

summary: you finally decided to join a car video with the triplets after years of them trying to convince you to, but when the topic “who’s more stubborn, you or chris?” is brought up, things take a peculiar turn in which chris is sure he can be the first guy you beg for, so you dare him to try.

warnings: fem!dom, chris!dom, smut, teasing, foreplay, swearing, choking, orgasm denial, size kink, bdsm.

author’s note: this one is for my chris girlies, initially i wanted to make it oneshot, but i love to tease you guys so it will be divided in two short parts, the second one will be released tonight so don’t worry and just enjoy!

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 (𝟷/𝟸)

everything started after you filmed a video with the sturniolo triplets, you’ve been friends with them for a while and after much pleading, you finally agreed to be a guest.

it was the talk nonsense and just hope it’s funny type of shit, so you didn’t freak out too much about it.

all went smoothly, you were having fun and laughing hard every five minutes, but then they changed the topic to who’s more stubborn, chris or you.

suddenly you both were arguing about it, leaving a nick and a matt almost dying from laughing.

“bro, you’re basically a child!” you point at chris’ face and roll your eyes. “remember when we all told you to NOT drink too many energy drinks, so you inhaled fucking four and almost died with a heart attack?”

nick nods and matt is just out of breath, staring at both of you. chris crosses his arms, preparing his comeback and squinting his eyes at you.

“why is this relevant?” he asks, raising a brow. “you’re the one who refuses to drink water because ‘it tastes bad’, you’re just dehydrated, dude! drink water, it’s not that hard.”

as the back and forth argument continued, nick just looks at the camera and says:

“point proved.” he laughs and then grabs his phone. “i wonder if one of you would actually admit you’re wrong one day.”

you two look at nick, and matt agrees. “yeah, besides being stubborn, you two are also too proud.”

“none of those things are true.” you yell at matt, but your voice is shaken from laughing so they all laugh too. “i just like to stand my ground, and this little boy right here wouldn’t convince me to do shit even if his life depended on it.”

chris was dumbfounded with so many insults, but what got to him was “little boy” and the fact that you underestimated him. he was indeed too proud, but he was very confident as well, and never really had to work hard to get what he wants when it comes to his needs, so that made him hungry for proving you wrong.

unfourtunately for him, you were just exaclty the same, but worse.

he looks at nick, and then at the camera, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips.

“make sure to edit this part out of the video.” he says, and the three of you just stare at him with big question mark faces, then his eyes turned to you, he had a determined expression and that just made your curiosity grow bigger within every second.

“you can say all you want…” he starts, the smirk turning into an evil smile. “but i’m sure i can make you beg.”

there was silent, an exchange of look between you four and then the loud noises of laughter.

“beg you to do what, chris?” you ask him. “the only thing i’d beg you to do is shut the fuck up.” you leaned against the car sit, since you both were next to each other, all he did was incline his face closer to you.

“to be submissive for the first time with a guy.” he whisper into your ear, making sure nick and matt hear it too. they both are in shock, amused and extremely invested and you… well, that did not surprised you, to be honest. you always tell the triplets about your love life, how you deal with guys and so did they. there was definitely similarities between you and chris. such as, never dating, never being clingy and most importantly, always being on the dominant side.

you grin at him with arms crossed, faces still close because he didn’t back off after saying it.

“i dare you to try.” you reply with a firm tone and he chuckles while nick and matt are losing it in the back seat.

“holy shit…” nick murmured with his hand over his mouth, eyes paying attention to every detail of your mannerism to see any kind of resistance or fear on you, but he got nothing.

“so...” you finally break the silence, checking your lipgloss in the rear mirror and then turning to chris. “what do i get if you fail?”

he thinks for a while and bite his lips, trying to think of something that wouldn’t risk his social life or reputation. he knew you and your thoughts, nothing too good would come out of your mouth if you choose.

“if i fail, which i won’t…” he begins and you give him an eye roll. “i’ll listen to every command of yours, not complaining or being stubborn, and the hardest part…” he says, sighing. he can’t believe he’s about to say that. “i’ll admit i’m wrong.”

you think for a moment, plotting the most unspeakable things inside your head. there’s no reason to not agree since you know you won’t lose.

“you got yourself a deal, little boy.” you tell him, shaking his hand.

“what the fuck?” matt yells and all of you laugh, continuing the video until later that night.

[multifariousqueer]

Can you write Miles 42 being like really super duper protective and like controls her, he doesn’t let her go out by herself and stuff like that and is like always watching her. They argue about his over protectiveness but he could care less

Ofc babes!!!

warnings: toxic behaivor, miles being annoying, angst, references to robbery and murder, strong language, INCREDIBLY TOXIC BEHAVIOR!!!!!!, brief mention of drinking, lmk if I missed one or two

A/n: Send more miles 42 reqs pls

730 days. Thats how long you were with this man. Thats how long it's been since you got leave the house alone. Miles was very overprotective since his dad died and he saw the world for what it was. Evil and it was filled with nothing but scum. Miles determined that this world wasn't good enough for you and you needed to be "protected" and kept away from this disgraceful universe. So, he took it upon himself to protect the only two things that mattered to him, you and his mom and he did a good job at it.

Miles would walk you to school, work, home and if you needed something, he would be the one to get it for you:

"Miles baby, I can get it myself; its right outside." you pleaded.

"Nah, Mami. I don't want you outside by yourself. People are fucked up and they will hurt you." He said stoically.

"But-" you started

"Cállate, Y/n. Before I make you” he said, stepping closer

You knew Miles well and you knew to stop pressing because he would just shut down and you hated when he shut down. Miles would just put his hand on his braids and kick something before giving you the same speech:

“Y/n you saw what they did to my father, do you want that to happen to you too? Because if I let you go out by yourself, you’re at risk for that to happen and if it does or if anything or anyone touches you, I will kill them; and that’s a promise, Mami. I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you and not bat an eye. Don’t fuck with me, y/n. Stay close. Let me protect you and we will be good. Aight?"

“okay.” you would say. Miles had a way of making you seem two inches tall in these situations.

You never left his side. For two years, he would watch your every move(he put small cameras in your home. You didn’t notice until three months ago); he would take you shopping but never posted about you just in case a villain would use try to use you as his weakness(because lets face it, you’re his weakness), he would kiss you and be sweet in private but he would act hard when anyone else was around.

It was a cold winter’s day when you decided you had had enough. Your friend y/f/n(your friends name) had invited you out to a party. You had never been to one because of Miles but you decided enough was enough and you were gonna go. So you slipped on a small dress, cute heels and a jacket that made your tits look nice and left:

“I’ll be home soon!” You told your parent

“Okay, y/n. Tell Miles I said hi” they exclaimed

“Okay!” You shouted back. They knew how overprotective Miles was but they knew he was a good person overall so they left it alone.

As you walked to hail a taxi, you felt your phone vibrate:

Miles: Wanna go out?

You: No it’s okay, imma just stay in for tonight

Miles: Nah fr. Let me take you out

You looked down and debated answering the text, but ultimately decided not to. You got in the taxi and went to the party when you saw a shadow dash across the roof.

You walked into the party and greeted your friend:

“GIRL OMG YOU LOOK SO GOOD. WHERE’S MILES?” They shouted over the loud music

“He’s not here, it’s just me. Let’s go grab a drink!” You replied

“Oh Okay!!” Your friend said

As you were walking over, you could’ve sworn you saw a man that looked exactly like your boyfriend but he vanished when a man walked past. You brushed it off and grabbed a cup of jungle juice and went to dance. You grinded against your friend who caught it during the beat drop. You were having the time of your life until you checked your phone:

Miles: I know where you are, y/n. Come home or I’m coming there.

Miles: I should’ve known you’d lie to me. You’ve been acting real shady lately, wanting to go out and shit. Just wait till you get home, we’re gonna address this shit immediately.

Miles: I see you

Miles: Stop ignoring me, y/n. You know you fucked up

Miles: Imagine wearing the chrome heart necklace I got you while dancing like a slut on your friend

Your stomach dropped as you surveyed your surroundings, looking for a sign of him. When you couldn’t see him, you hailed a taxi and went home.

You fidgeted and fiddled the whole way home. The driver looked in his rear view mirror at you:

“You good, Mami?"

The name sent shivers up your spine as it was your boyfriends name for you.

“Oh! I’m fine, just cold haha” you laughed it off

The driver turned on the heat and sooner or later you were home.

You approached your doorstep and went to your room. Your parent was asleep and you walked in your room, thinking his threat was empty, until you went to shower and saw him behind the door:

“MILES” you screamed both in shock and horror

“Y/n.” he said, closing the door, encapsulating you both in the small room together

“I’m so sorry-��� you started

“you should be. What did I tell you, y/n? I do all of this shit for your safety but you continue to fight me and pull these stunts” Miles lectured as he closed in on you. Your height difference becoming more and more apparent

“Stunts? Fight? Miles I have been nothing but obedient to you which I shouldn’t even have to do if you treated me like a person instead of an object. That’s all I am to you isn’t it? An object. A doll. Just something you don��t want other people to have or see?” you argued

But your pleas and your confessions meant nothing to the man. He simply looked at you and said:

“yeah, actually.”

“what?” you said

“You are an object to me, you’re something I have to protect otherwise the world will take you from me like they did him.” Miles said, as stoic as ever

“STOP USING YOUR DAD AS LEVERAGE IN THIS, MILES. THIS ISN’T ABOUT HIM, ITS ABOUT YOU AND ME AND IF YOURE JUST GONNA KEEP TREATING ME THIS WAY, I’LL FIND SOMEONE ELSE.” You shouted, exasperated and on the verge of tears.

“do it, y/n. I dare you to find someone who will care for you and spoil you as much as I do.” Miles said, briefly breaking his nonchalant nature

“Fine I will!” you said reaching for the doorknob.

You left and put on clothes as you made him leave.

“You’ll be back.” Miles said, nonchalantly

“Fuck you, Miles Morales.” you said

It had been a week and you were sulking and debating getting back with the man when your family and friends told you were doing the right thing:

“I’m glad you left him, y/n. I heard he’s the prowler.” Your parent said

“Yeah I’m glad I left too.” you mumbled

As you were enjoying your fifth night of freedom, you saw a woman get mugged on the street:

“GIVE ME YOUR PURSE NOW LADY” The masked man shouted

The woman did as told and the man escaped but not before looking at you and running in your direction. With Miles, that man would’ve never even had the though to look at you.

You ran as fast as you could until you lost him in an alley behind your apartment. You decided you missed him too much and he was right so you pulled out your phone:

You: Miles you were right. I’m so sorry

Miles: typing...

Miles: its okay, I knew you’d find out soon enough; so what happened, Mami?

You: Some mugger saw me and charged at me and he had a knife

Miles: What did he look like

You: Beanie, knife, blue shirt and black pants

seen

You went home and went to sleep. The next morning you heard the news blaring in the house, along with the smell of bacon wafting through the house

“What happened?” you asked

“some mugger got killed.” your parent said

You had a stinging sensation in your gut and prayed that it wasn’t what it looked like when you heard the woman on the TV:

“It seemed like there were claw marks In his chest and he had been blasted with a ray gun."

Oh God...

You went to text Miles when you saw his text:

“You don’t gotta worry about that guy anymore, Mami. I’ll be at your house at 10.”

[katesmemes]

feel free to change any pronouns, etc. || may contain some nsfw!

“Hell is a teenage girl.”

“I guess I’m not exactly perfect, myself.”

“I recommend you shut the fuck up!”

“I used to be normal.”

“I hate this fucking song.”

“I promised [Name] I would hang out with him tonight.”

“Wear something cute, okay?”

“Those jeans are hella low, I can almost see your front butt.”

“Quit tamponing yourself and get down here!”

“You always do what [Name] tells you to do.”

“You’re totally jello.”

“You’re lime-green jello and you can’t even admit it to yourself.”

“Hey, [Name], you look really pretty.”

“You play your instruments really…super good.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’ll just play Hello Titty with the bartender.”

“That’s my best friend that you’re talking about.”

“I had to stay home the next day and sit on a frozen bag of peas.”

“He was skinny and twisted and evil like this tree I saw when I was a kid.”

“Maybe I’m going crazy.”

“You do have a tendency to overreact.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you, aside from the obvious surface flaws?”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t die.”

“I’m crazy sorry about your profound loss.”

“You are crying about [Name], right?”

“You know when you kiss a boy for the first time, and it feels like your entire body is on vibrate?”

“She’s just staring out the window like a zombie mannequin robot statue.”

“Well, the bad luck’s gotta be over, right?”

“I mean, it can’t get any worse, right? It can’t.”

“No offense, but you look really tired.”

“Is everything okay?”

“My skin is breaking out and my hair is dull and lifeless.”

“PMS isn’t real, [Name], it was invented by the boy-run media to make us seem crazy.”

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“Um, I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“You wanna know if I’ll go out with you?”

“Well, we’ve been having a lot of fun in class, you and I, and thought maybe you’d like to go see a movie or something.”

“I’m used to boys asking me out, [Name].”

“Why don’t you just come by my place tonight?”

“It’s about this girl who’s, like, half-sushi.”

“So, are you gonna come over tonight?”

“I went to [Location] and picked up more condoms, so—”

“This isn’t really your house, is it?”

“Do you even know my last name?”

“I thought boys like you were really into vermin and death and shit.”

“But we always share your bed when we have slumber parties…”

“I’m not gonna bite you.”

“Is that my [Logo/Brand] t-shirt?”

“What the fuck is happening?!”

“I have never heard you drop the F-bomb before!”

“What do you want from me?”

“Best friends don’t keep secrets, right?”

“They’re basically like agents of Satan with really awesome haircuts.”

“I dunno if we should go through with this.”

“They did go all Benihana on my ass with that knife and it should’ve killed me, and it should’ve killed me but for some reason it didn’t.”

“Anyway, I don’t really remember what happened after that, I just know that I woke up and I found my way back to you.”

“I mean, I’m a really good friend, but I was just so hungry…”

“We’re gonna sort all this out, okay?”

“It’s like some X-Men shit, right?”

“Y’know, [Name] maybe you should talk to somebody about all these…disturbing thoughts that you’re having…”

“I think he may be having second thoughts about you.”

“We can play boyfriend-girlfriend like we used to.”

“You’re breaking up with me?”

“I just need to show you something.”

“You’re acting really fucked up.”

“[Name], I think you need help.”

“Oh my god, you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not safe for us to be together right now.”

“Didn’t you hear me calling your name?”

“I just can’t believe that she would mess with your head like this.”

“I care about you so much, [Name].”

“[Name] didn’t deserve a boy like you.”

“Oh, you’re so salty.”

“I feel so empty.”

“Why don’t you just come here and kiss me again?”

“God, do you have to undermine everything that I do?”

“You are such a player-hater.”

“Wow, nice insult Hannah Montana.”

“You were never a good friend.”

“You could have anybody that you want, [Name].”

“I go both ways.”

“I think I already died before you got here, but I woke up when I heard your voice.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“You look totally hot in that dress.”

“Oh, you’re clearly delirious.”

“You killed my fucking boyfriend, you goddamn monster!”

“You dumb bitch!”

“Do you buy all your murder weapons at Home Depot?”

“God, you’re butch.”

“I’m a different person now.”

“You just might get lucky for once in your miserable life.”

[that-disabled-princess]

The gentle clunk of a plate being set down makes him jump, yelping as the tail he's working on bounces from his hands.

A hand catches the tail, gently setting it next to the bird. Ethari blinks, his husband's face swimming into focus as his eyes adjust.

"Nice hand."

Runaan blushes, and that's when Ethari registers what he said.

He meant to say "nice catch".

Moon above, the holiday season this year has been the most frenzied one yet.

"Well," Runaan purrs, moving his hand to Ethari's thigh. "You should see what else my hand can do."

Ethari leans up, eyes fluttering shut as Runaan leans in... brushes his lips against his...

Ethari makes a noise of protest as Runaan nips his jaw, but it dies in his throat as his husband straddles him. Runaan presses against him, and Ethari whimpers.

"Yes..."

It's difficult to find time to be intimate when you're saving the world from an evil Startouch elf, and oh sweet fuck, he's missed this.

Runaan slides his hand up Ethari's side, his chest, his neck, cupping his cheek as he sucks and nibbles his lower lip.

"Come to bed on time tonight and you'll get the full show."

As quickly as Runaan appeared, he disappears, calling something about dinner over his shoulder, and leaving Ethari hard with a family member's half-finished gift in front of him.

Fuck.

[lords-of-mayhem]

Eurovarg Playlist

Lies // Marina and the Diamonds

You're never gonna love me, so what's the use? What's the point in playing a game you're gonna lose? What's the point in saying you love me like a friend? What's the point in saying it's never gonna end?

You're too proud to say that you made a mistake, you're a coward 'til the end. I don't wanna admit that we're not gonna fit. No, I'm not the type that you like. Why don't we just pretend?

You only ever touch me in the dark. Only if we're drinking, can you see my spark? And only in the evening, could you give yourself to me? 'Cause the night is your woman and she'll set you free.

Lies, don't wanna know. I can't let you go, I just want it to be perfect. To believe it's all been worth the fight. Lies, don't wanna know, don't wanna know.

Dinner And Diatribes // Hozier

Honey, this club here is stuck up, dinner and diatribes. I knew it from the first look of, the look of mischief in your eyes. Your friends are a fate that befell me, head is a talking type.

I'd suffer Hell if you'd tell me what you'd do to me tonight. Let there be hotels complaints and grievances raised, let there be damage ensued and tabloid news.

The Main Character // Will Wood

I'm that perspective you cannot doubt, see how I look. Control the narrative reliably, baby, it's all about me. So now, I'm holding myself hostage. Stockholm lust just looks like justice.

So, God forbid I'm seen just as an average human being. I mean, imagine if protagonists just died in the first scene.

I'm the gap between tragedy and comedy. Don't come at me, I'm the main character and you have to like me.

Villains are everywhere, that's how I know that I'm the hero. So tie me to the train tracks, laugh, and snidely twist your mustache.

We all do what we need to to get through, but I ain't done a fucking thing to you. So, God forbid I'm seen just as an average human being.

I mean, imagine if antagonists lacked any evil scheme. I'm the gap between a tragedy and comedy. Don't come at me, I'm the main character and you have to like me.

You // Marina and the Diamonds

You don't know me like you think you do. You don't own me, but I can't cut you loose. Everybody thinks that you're a star, but underneath, I see just what you are.

We both know that we can never change, walking slowly through the smoke and flames. Yeah, you break me down. Yeah, you shut me out. But it's all about you.

I'm the main character, and you have to like me

I'm the gap between a tragedy and comedy

I know what you're about, but I need you now 'cause it's all about you. You don't love me like you think you do, you don't know that I'm just as bad as you.

Everybody thinks that I'm the heart of every party, but it's just the start. Deep down, I know that we're just the same, burning slowly through the dust and flames.

No Children // The Mountain Goats

I hope that our few remaining friends give up on trying to save us. I hope we come up with a fail-safe plot to piss off the dumb few that forgave us. I hope it's already too late.

And I hope the junkyard a few blocks from here someday burns down, and I hope the rising black smoke carries me far away and I never come back to this town again in my life.

I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow, I hope it bleeds all day long.

I hope it stays dark forever, I hope the worst isn't over. I hope I never get sober. And I hope when you think of me years down the line, you can't find one good thing to say.

And I'd hope that if I found the strength to walk out, you'd stay the hell out of my way. I am drowning, there is no sign of land. You are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand.

And I hope you die, I hope we both die.

Ready To Let Go // Cage The Elephant

Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii. On both sides, the vow was broken. Oh my my, I'm the one trying to hide this damage done.

One day, all our secrets will be spoken. As we slow dance, I became your statue, frozen. Times I wonder, are we just a puff of smoke? Underneath this bed of ashes, still withholding everything like we were never close.

Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii. On holy ground, our vows were broken. We met up, we broke bread. I was blue, your dress was red. Ain't it strange? We both knew this day was coming.

Don't you worry, baby, no sense trying to change it. Imma strike these matches, never had control. I'm ready to let go, no, was I fooling myself?

Imma spread these ashes, never had control. I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready to let go.

I/Me/Myself // Will Wood

I've been feeling lightheaded since I lost enough weight to fit back in my skin. Take my tea with formaldehyde for my feminine side since the day that I died.

While I whittle my bones until I'm brittle, am I pretty now? For some reason, I find myself lost in what you think of me and too confused to choose who I should be.

And now you've got me thinking: I wish I could be a girl and that way, you'd wish I could be your girlfriend.

I get dressed up in shadows one leg at a time, we're so alike. But if the shoe fits then I won't try it on and you'll be walking out early, but the show must go on.

No, I know that I'm wrong, but I love how you're on my side when I cross that line. It's been a point of contention between myself and this body that they stuck me in.

Say my name like a slur, but I've been called worse. And I've heard it all before, no, this isn't a first. Let me be the void you fill with.

Am I pretty enough to love back? No, not yet. Am I pretty enough, am I pretty enough to fucking die?

Well, I would give you my whole world. All identities are equally invalid, don't you think that there's a chance that you could live without it?

Spiderhead // Cage The Elephant

I am the one you left for dead and as you stand over my grave, you'll pause your lips upon my face.

Either I'm in heaven or I'm in hell. Am I losing my mind, yeah? Cause I can't tell. I've been waiting for answers for way too long, seems I'm always waiting around.

I think your mother wants me dead. Say you wanted to, I am a schizophrenic man. I wouldn't change you if I could.

Spiders in my head, spiders in my mind. You may take my eyes, but baby, I'm not blind. It all works out all right, you know I'm gonna be all right.

[eirist]

All Wrapped Up

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T (Just a lit-tle suggestive)

Note: This was supposed to be an entry for the ZoNa Holiday Events at Tumblr and a holiday fic (would have checked Prompt #1 – Christmas Party and #8 – Red Lipstick) but it didn’t make it. Still, I want to get this out there even though it’s 2024 already and January’s about to end.

Also this is a companion fic to The Cat Burglar and As It Was one-shots. Set in the same AU. Because I adore that AU. First ZoNa fic for 2024 so enjoy the craziness!

Summary: His answer was a simple yes. And gave her that smile that never fails to steal her breath away.

Sparkling.

Everything and everywhere is freaking sparkling.

From the snowflakes and ornaments hanging from above, the wiry white branches lining the hallway, the garlands wound around the stairs, the Christmas wreaths peppering the walls, the table centerpieces and candles… and of course, the huge Christmas tree in the middle of the room where the party is held.

Everything she set her eyes on is absolutely glittering…

…and white. Did she mention white? Freaking pristine white.

It was like the place was snowed in overnight. And that snow settled in a kind of aesthetic way that it made the place look enchanting just like inside a fantasy winter palace.

“So…” a voice suddenly spoke up beside her, pulling Nami out of her entrancement. “Is this what it feels like to be inside a snow globe?” Usopp remarked as he observed the scene before him with a grimace, handing Nami a tall glass of—yes, no surprises with that— sparkling wine.

“Thanks,” Nami smiled as she took it from him. “You know, I actually thought I died and gone to heaven when I walked in,” she muttered as her eyes followed a heavily-jewelled matron who strode past them. “Everything is just fucking white and sparkling.”

A snort of laughter escaped Usopp. “You? In heaven?”

She narrowed her eyes at him knowing where his comment is heading.

“I highly doubt that that’s where you’ll go,” Usopp teased. “You’re too evil.”

“Shut up.” Nami smacked him on the shoulder. “Don’t you have to play nice or you won’t get any gifts from the fat, red man?”

“His name is Santa Claus! Don’t be ignorant!” Usopp countered, wincing as he rubbed his shoulder. “And compared to you, I am absolutely nice! I’ll definitely get a gift from him.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. It amazes her that even as an adult Usopp still believes in fairy tales and some guy who—for the life of her, she doesn’t really understand how—slides inside chimneys while everyone else is sleeping to leave gifts under the Christmas trees for nice children.

He really should stop hanging around their genius yet childish doctor.

“Speaking of gifts,” she decided to change the subject, sending a bright smile to his direction. “Where’s mine?” She held out her hand as Usopp frowned at her crassness.

“I left it in Chopper’s office,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m not gonna mingle around tonight with it in my pocket you know.”

Nami squealed in delight and Usopp cringed when he realized his tongue slipped and gave her an idea on what his present is.

It was no secret that the orange-haired woman absolutely loves gifts. She made that fact pretty clear a lot of times.

Especially if said gifts were as sparkly and shiny as the lights decorating the entire manor right now.

Usopp was watching her with a dour expression on his face.

She patted his shoulder in an appeasing manner. “Oh don’t worry. I also got you a gift.” She winked at him as his face lit up with excitement.

“Really?!” This time it was his turn to squeal in delight.

Nami looked smug as she took a sip of her drink. “I’m fair after all. Plus in the spirit of Christmas, I decided to be more generous this year.”

“Wooow!” Usopp was looking at her disbelievingly. “I guess miracles do happen! I honestly thought you’d just cut-off a small percentage of my so-called debt to you just like you did last year.”

“Don’t make me change my mind Usopp. I can still do that.”

“Oh come on! Don’t be stingy! Everyone knows you got a big, fat bonus from that stealing stint last time!”

Nami pointed a finger at him. “Hey! You also got the same big, fat bonus! We’re in that stint together!”

Two months ago the two of them (along with Robin, Franky and Brook), pulled off a rather daring heist in an underground auction hosted by the one and only Buggy the Clown—the weird owner and head of Buggy’s Delivery; an organization that prides itself in acquiring hard to find artifacts and treasures of the old from different parts of the world to sell it to the highest bidder in a hush-hush, private event.

Robin was able to secure an invitation to the clown’s auction, following a tip that Buggy recently obtained some priceless items which belonged to Gol D. Roger himself.

They knew they needed to get their hands on those treasures as soon as possible.

And get their hands on it they did.

Nami can still recall that feeling of elation as they drove away from Buggy’s circus-inspired villa with all the priceless auction items in tow—much to the consternation and shock of Buggy himself. He wasn’t able to chase them as they had a good head start before he and his minions realized what had happened.

Thus they all got a damn big bonus for a job well-done. Not everyone can pull off a feat like that. But with a brilliant team like theirs… it was a walk in the park.

It was really a damn great decision to join them. Not only was she living lavishly now, but she was also enjoying her stealing assignments so much more than before.

A few years ago, Nami had stolen a relic in the Mugiwara estate from right under Usopp’s nose. Back then, she was working alone and Usopp was in charge of the whole estate’s security.

He and his team was no match for her. Nami was able to breach their safeguards and easily sneak into the estate and get her hands on the priceless item. It was almost like stealing candies from babies, she can’t even call it a challenge.

Then Straw Hat Luffy—the head of the Mugiwara Family—sent Roronoa Zoro, one of his top men, to track her down.

Nami honestly thought that that was the end for her when she saw him sitting on one of the booths of her then empty bar, silently and patiently biding his time.

But Zoro’s orders that night, was just find her…

…and apparently take her back with him to the estate.

Thank her lucky stars he wasn’t there to maim her. She definitely knows she’s no match for him. Still, Nami did not make it easy for Zoro to do his job. She made him chase after her for a good half an hour all around the town until he finally lost his patience and showed her first-hand just why he was Mugiwara no Luffy’s right-hand man.

To say he hauled her back with him like he was just carrying a sack of potatoes was an understatement.

Her addition to Luffy’s elite circle was unexpected—as unexpected as his invitation to her to join his group. It wasn’t a calculated decision on his part (like he’s actually capable of that). Luffy just felt that it was right to invite her. Plus her skills are really awesome (he said it with eyes lighting up in excitement while laughing at Usopp’s expense) and he was really impressed with how she was able to sneak into the estate and steal something.

It may have been an arbitrary whim on Luffy’s part, but it was Nico Robin who pointed out to everyone that it would benefit them so much more if Nami is with them instead of an adversary that they had to deal with every now and then.

“Her thieving skills are unmatched. Her moniker, true to its words. Also she is not just a cat burglar,” Robin had explained with a rather fascinated smile on her face. “Nami is also an exceptional cartographer and an excellent navigator. Very useful when it comes to treasure hunting, don’t you all think?” She posed the question to everyone present, her blue eyes almost sparkling with mirth. “She’ll make a fine addition to our group.”

Nami was stunned at tall and elegant woman’s knowledge about her and her skills. She later found out that Robin is an archaeologist and a treasure trove of information. She actually has an archive of who’s who in the criminal world—be it a big or small name. And Nami’s name was already included in it. Robin also makes it her business to know every person and organization who is interested in anything and everything related to Gol D. Roger and his treasures.

Zoro and Usopp are the only ones who were adamantly opposed to her joining. The former because he doesn’t trust her and claims that she would be nothing but trouble. The latter because his pride took a battering when she had stolen the priceless relic he was ordered to guard with his life.

But they had to relent when Luffy put his foot down.

And Nami had no choice but to concede too, because she knows she would not fare well as their enemy… especially if they sent out Roronoa Zoro after her. 

Her thoughts suddenly shifted to the grouchy, green-haired man and her eyes automatically roamed the expanse of the party and the guests. She hadn’t seen him ever since she arrived.

He’s probably lost again. She thought wryly. Or going around in circles on the estate grounds.

Zoro might be exceptional when it comes to fighting, but definitely hopeless when it comes to directions. He would get lost in a straight line and will confuse north and south and left and right. It was completely frustrating.

Nami felt Usopp nudged her with his shoulder to get her attention. She gave him a glance and saw that he was pointing at one of the guests who were clad with so much sparkling jewelries she almost put the Christmas tree lights to shame.

Usopp was wiggling his eyebrows at her, issuing a silent dare to Nami that she should be able to nick some of those by the end of the night.

She smirked haughtily, raising her glass slightly to take his challenge.

It had been easy to win Usopp over when she finally accepted Luffy’s offer. They had a lot in common and Nami realized they almost, always have the same wave length. It didn’t take long for them to get close, all previous transgression forgotten.

Most of the time, it was the two of them who works out the security and possible breaches of the estate along with Franky—if Nami wasn’t on a stealing stint or nose-buried into antique maps and charting.   

As much as Usopp had been an easy win. Zoro was the complete opposite.

He was harder to get close to. Harder to thaw. He was like a thick block of ice. Not to mention he has an inherent distrust to almost all the people he meets. That combination was enough to make him formidable.

He was quiet and calm; silently listening and observing and in most cases, he’s just… asleep.

Nami was astounded on how easily he could just nod off while they were having a meeting or going over the plans for a heist or an attack or even when they’re just randomly lounging about the manor. He just sits there, with arms crossed over that delectable chest of his then falls asleep, snoring like there was no tomorrow.

But what really surprised her was that even if he zoned out easily or looks like he’s not even paying attention… he was ever-alert and his reflexes are out of this world.

Once, she stealthily tried sneak up on him to pull at his ear for dozing off while she was in the middle of giving him the rundown of the plan for their current mission. He had been grating on her nerves ever since they arrive at the island of Dressrosa—no, scratch that—from the moment they started traveling to be exact, and a retaliation was definitely overdue.

The next thing she knew, he had her pinned down on the carpeted floor of the hotel room. She was looking up at him with wide eyes while he stared down at her with one eyebrow arrogantly cocked.

He drawled something about… she didn’t quite catch it because at that moment, the wind was knocked out of her and her heart was thumping madly against her chest, its thudding sound echoing loudly in her ears.

And all her brain could register is how good Zoro feels above her.

From that moment on, Nami wanted more of him.

They stared at each other for a good few seconds as Nami swallowed the lump that somehow formed at her throat as his steely grey eye regarded her intensely. 

Though what happened next was far from charming. Bastard didn’t even bother helping her stand up. Zoro just pushed himself up and away from her with a scoff and casually walked towards the door to exit the room as Nami scrambled to get back on her feet. Out of frustration, she threw her red stiletto heel at his head.

Looking back, she honestly thinks that that was what chipped the ice. Because when Zoro swiveled around after her shoe hit his head and marched back towards her direction, a vein was visibly popping in his forehead and he was looking mad as hell. It was the first time she had seen that expression on him.

She should’ve been afraid at that moment. But in a mixture of infuriation and embarrassment (from being pinned down the floor or from her improper thoughts about the green-haired man or both)—Nami folded her arms across her chest and met his flaring temper head on.

Their shouting match in that room was one for the books. Not to mention, they almost blew their supposed mission that day because they can’t stop arguing.

That was the start of the never-ending quarrels and quips between the two of them that drove everyone around them crazy. It was an unspoken rule to everyone in the estate that when Zoro and Nami start firing words at each other, it’s better to high-tail it out of there than get caught in the crossfire. 

It was around that time that Nami realized that Zoro wasn’t really all cold and aloof like she first thought. Most of the time he appeared like he doesn’t give a damn because he was just too freaking lazy to care.

His usually reserved countenance was most likely because he was the kind of person to assess the situation first before reacting. He prefers to see the whole picture before efficiently dealing with whatever it is that comes one by one. He kept a cool head in most circumstances yet can still easily lose his temper especially when she one ups him (or if Sanji-kun was deliberately pissing him off).

It had become a bad habit of Nami to rile him up as much as she can. Because in a weird and twisted way, she loves how expressive his face can be when he is fighting with her.

The longer Nami stayed at Luffy’s group, the more she came to know Zoro deeper. 

Their enemies feared him. Everyone in their group and their members have high respect for him. He was actually one of the very few people that can rein their boss in because Luffy actually listens to him.��

As much as he was known to be ruthless and emotionless by the other mob families, he is quite the opposite when it comes to his friends and other selected associates.

She saw how he was with Luffy, Usopp and Chopper. Sometimes when he deals with them, his lone grey eye would go soft and there was this air of fondness and this certain amused smile on his face that she never thought he was capable of doing.

It stole her breath away. And made her see him in another light.

She’d do anything to be at the receiving end of that smile.  

“A pricey jewelry for your thoughts?” Usopp’s playful tone suddenly permeated her thoughts.

“Huh?” Nami snapped back to reality at the sound of her long-nosed friend’s voice.

Usopp peered at her face. “Are you alright? You just like zoned out.” His gaze traced the path where Nami was blankly looking. “Find something interesting out there?”

Nami shook her head. “Nah, just thinking.”

“You better be thinking on how you’ll steal some of those sparkly jewelries from that woman and that woman,” Usopp sniggered, tilting his head toward the direction of the bejewelled women he was pertaining too.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you underestimating me?”

“Of course not!” Usopp said as he downed the last of his drink. “Actually… hmm… there is a betting pool.” He said muttered while pretending to scratch his chin.

“What do you mean there is a betting pool?”

Usopp took a step back from her realizing his mistake. He shouldn’t have said that.

Before he can take another step back, Nami suddenly grabbed his tie to the point of choking him.

“What’s the bet?” Nami growled. She was quick to grasp the meaning of what he was saying. She was quite familiar that the some of the lower ranked members usually indulges themselves with betting pools for their own entertainment. It was an easy way to win money after all. Sometimes even higher officials like her, Usopp, Franky or Brook would join.

But she wasn’t aware that there is an ongoing bet tonight.

Nami shook the curly-haired lad to urge him to give an answer.

“Come on Usopp don’t make this hard. What’s the bet?”

“Uuuhmm…. how much you’ll be able to steal tonight?”

Nami scowled and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Tell me more!”

“Eeep! That’s just it! I shouldn’t have told you! It’s not even my idea—” He struggled to explain and get out of her grasp at the same time. “I mean we can split!”

“Split?” Nami’s face darkened at that.

“Yeah!” Usopp nodded vigorously. “The pot is high!”

“How high?!”

“Ara… here you both are.”

Nami and Usopp whipped their heads toward the direction of the voice. Robin was approaching them looking all elegant in a shimmery white gown. Her long black hair was arranged in a sophisticated coiffure behind her head and she was holding a wine glass half-filled with one of the vintage reds from the manor’s cellar that she adores.

“Robin!” Nami exclaimed, completely forgetting about Usopp and releasing him from her clutches. She bounded happily towards the tall woman and enveloped her in a hug. “You’re back!”

“Ro-bin!” Usopp also greeted as he cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “Good to see you here! Thought you wouldn’t make it tonight?”

Robin, Franky and Brook had an important errand in the island of Baldimore. They went there to finalize a deal with one of their important associates before the year ends. As the place was quite far, everyone was thinking the trio wouldn’t make it back in for the party.

But apparently they did.

“Fufufu…” Robin laughed softly. “Well Franky and Brook were adamant to make it back. They don’t want to miss this party.” She motioned to the far corner of the room below where a tall, lanky figure with afro hair was already sitting behind the grand piano, playing Christmas tunes. “It’s a must-attend event after all.”

“I thought the New Year party is the must-attend event?” Usopp’s brows furrowed.

“Both are,” Robin said with a smile. “You know how the three brothers are always in a high festive mood whenever the holidays approach.”

Both Nami and Usopp nodded in understanding. With both of Luffy’s brothers, Ace and Sabo, spending the season at Mugiwara estate, the celebration had been all out. Spare no expense was Luffy’s exact words. Well actually the three brothers’ exact words. Because Ace and Luffy absolutely love throwing parties and Sabo… well it’s two against one, he had no choice but to agree.

And this was only the Christmas Party. Another party will be held on New Year’s Eve and Nami can’t wait to see how extravagant that one’s going to be.

Not to mention how many glittering stuff she’ll be able to filch from their filthy rich guests by the turn of the year.

“Well,” Usopp let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s gonna be a lot of work from here on.”

Robin nodded. “I’m surprised you are even out here. I thought you’d be personally manning the security tonight?”

Usopp looked crestfallen. “Aaw, gimme a break Robin. Our security team’s the best! With Franky and I’s newly updated surveillance equipment, not even a fly would get past the fence!”

The archaeologist gave Nami a side glance which Usopp caught.

“Hey! We personally asked Nami to do practice runs to check the system’s efficiency.” Usopp explained, folding his arms across his chest, looking smug and proud.

Nami laughed. “That they did.”

Robin chuckled. “So how was it?” She directed the question towards the orange-haired woman.

“Quite a challenge actually,” Nami admitted, pursing her lips. “But give me some time to figure out something and I’ll be able to sneak past all that, get inside here and steal anything from right under Usopp’s nose. Again.”

“Hey!” Usopp lightly slapped her arm. “I thought we’re friends now!”

Nami blinked innocently at him. “Yes we are. But you’ll never know how effective that surveillance system is until we give it a serious try right?”

“Well, she does have a point Usopp,” Robin agreed. “Maybe a surprise break-in one of these days?” She suggested, her tone light with amusement. “Franky will surely love that challenge.”

“I won’t...” Usopp mumbled.

Nami rolled her eyes at him. “I’m pretty sure that’ll give you and Franky the opportunity to request for new tech stuff again.”

Usopp straightened up at that. “Well that idea I definitely love!”

“So all set,” Nami flashed him a smile. “Once the holidays are over, expect something will happen. I’m already giving you a handicap.”

Usopp knitted his brows at her. “What handicap?”

“Once the holidays are over,” Nami repeated. A Cheshire cat-like grin appeared on her face. “Come on, that’s enough clue right? It’s a surprise break-in after all.”

Now Usopp was looking at her with eyes narrowed. Then he turned to Robin. “I’m blaming this on you.”

Robin just gave him a mysterious smile. “It’s settled then. I’m looking forward to the chaos it’ll bring.”

“Wait hold up!” Usopp raised his hand. “Are we not telling everyone about it?”

“Where’s the fun in that if you do?” Nami asked in a bored tone.

“But…”

“We’ll inform Luffy and the others.” Robin took a sip of her wine before continuing. “Only our team will know. It’ll be the perfect incident response exercise for the rest don’t you think?”

Usopp was looking at her with mouth agape. “Where do you even get these ideas?” He paused for a moment and huffed. “Oh right… Franky.”

The corners of Robin’s eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Anyway, Luffy did call for a meeting before the party starts right?” Robin signalled to one of the meandering servers who‘s balancing a tray of beverages on his hand. She took the empty glass from Nami’s hand and replaced it with a champagne flute. The she got another, this time

low ball glass with a really expensive whiskey inside and placed it in Nami’s free hand.

Nami stared quizzically at the drinks.

Robin thanked the server politely as he moved away from them. “I think it’s time to head up now,” she proposed.

Usopp glanced at his watch. “Well, we better…”

“Can you go find Zoro, Nami?” The raven-haired woman requested.

“Me?” Nami blinked up at her. Then, she looked back at the glasses she was holding. Oh fuck that. That was why Robin handed her the whiskey. She frowned at her and Robin just smiled.

“You’re the only one who can easily drag him to these meetings. And he really needs to be there.” Robin’s tone had shifted and Nami noted that there must be something important to discuss if Zoro’s presence at the meeting is imperative.

But still she groaned her complaint. “Do I really have too?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Why not Usopp?” “Why me?” Usopp retorted. “Zoro will just threaten me into leaving him alone and you know I will always cave in. You on the other hand, don’t. So carry on!” He made a shooing gesture with his hand.

Nami childishly stuck her tongue out at him.

“Last I saw him he was heading towards the west wing.” Robin offered. “He’s probably still there.”

“Believe me he’s not going anywhere once he’s in that area,” Nami muttered under her breath. The manor’s west wing had like a dozen rooms. It was Zoro’s favourite hiding place whenever there is a party and he wants some peace and quiet. Plus that area is off limits to party guests, there are even assigned guards at its entryway.

“Fine.” She conceded albeit sulkily, glancing at the drinks in her hand. “I’m gonna drag his ass upstairs.”

“Thank you.” Robin murmured as Nami sullenly shuffled away to do what she was asked. She was still within earshot when she heard Usopp say to Robin,  

“Hey about the betting pool…”

“I heard that!” Nami snapped as she spun around and marched back towards them. “And I demand to know what the hell that is! Don’t you dare think I forgot about that Usopp!”

Robin curiously raised an eyebrow at her before looking back at Usopp.

Said man stiffened under her gaze.

“Sorry!” Usopp sheepishly apologized to Robin with a nervous laugh. “It just slipped. I must’ve told her something.”

“What’s that all about?!” Nami inquired, her eyes shifting back and forth between the two of them. “You said something about it earlier Usopp!”

Robin just shrugged nonchalantly. “Everyone just makes bets.”

“Wait, everyone?” Nami repeated. “Like everyone bets and the winner takes all? How come I didn’t know of this! Are in this too Robin?”

Robin just replied with a chuckle. “Well you’d most likely try to rig the game so you can split the win.” She explained not confirming the answer to Nami’s question if she was involved in it too.

Nami’s eyes widened when she realized that she is. “I can’t believe you Robin! But yeah you’re right I’d definitely rig the game! Wait,” she diverted her attention to Usopp. “So that’s why you brought it up Usopp! You’re planning to strike a deal with me!” She announced in a sickeningly sweet, sugary voice.

“That’s cheating.” Robin commented coolly.

“Hey no! It just slipped out of my mouth alright?”

“You said something about splitting the win,” Nami pointed out.

Both women are looking at him unconvincingly. Usopp was known for having a flair for lying, which is surprisingly effective to most people outside their circle.

“Only because you were gripping my tie to the point of throttling me!” Usopp retorted. “Besides like you’d really agree to split fifty-fifty  Nami. It’s gonna be more like fifty-none!”

“That is definitely correct.” Robin agreed with a soft laugh

“Of course!” Nami stated haughtily. “Why would I split evenly? How long has this been going on anyway?”

“Uhh… around mid-year last year…” Usopp replied.

“What?! That long?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m pretty sure a lot of you are like a thousand belis richer now because of me?” Nami was looking pure evil right now. She tossed back the champagne she was still holding in one go and casually placed it on the tray of a passing server.  “I’m definitely taking percentages!”

“Oh hey I always lost!” Usopp held up his hands in mock surrender. “So no thank you. You will not be taking any money from me.”

“I haven’t really won,” Robin said with a smile. “Sorry. I’m up against those with uncanny luck in gambling.”

Nami blew at her bangs exasperatedly. “Okay then. Who do I have to extort?”

Robin and Usopp glanced at each other and without waiting for a beat they both answered.

“Zoro.”

“That idiot!” Nami growled. So he was on it too! She can’t believe it! And he was getting richer from making bets about her and he did not even have the gall to tell her? She was gripping the remaining glass on her hand a little too tightly.

“Whoa easy!” Usopp tried to pacify her, seeing that cracks were about to form on the glass. “But yeah if you are gonna extort someone, it’s him. He like won almost every betting pool. That’s roughly about a hundred thousand belis now.”

Robin just arched her perfectly shaped eyebrows when Usopp threw Zoro under the mercy of a rather livid Nami. Money matters are in no way handled peacefully in the orange-haired woman’s books. She was willing to do almost anything for it. Robin had seen her break another man’s arm who idiotically tried to scam her before… accidentally though… or so Nami claims.

She swirled her wine slightly, watching it with slight fascination. But even more fascinating is what’s going to happen in the next few hours now that Nami finally found out about the betting pool that Brook, Franky and Usopp had actually started.

“Oooh that lazy, idiot moss-head. I swear I’m going to get every single beli he won from that stupid betting pool! With interest!”

Robin lifted her head up just in time to see Nami stomping away from them in purposeful strides, her high heels making an ominous clacking sound against the marbled floor as she made her way towards where Zoro possibly was. Usopp was waving his hand at her and cheering her on.

“Well this is definitely going to be a fun night,” Robin remarked, the corners of her eyes crinkling with mirth, before taking another sip of her wine. ------------------------

Unlike the other areas which were decorated with glittering lights and Christmas adornments, the manor’s west wing was totally devoid of anything festive. Only the warm chandelier lights lining the high curving ceiling illuminated the whole area.

The noise of the party grew faint the further Nami went forward and when she turned around the corner, everything fell silent. No music or party guests chatter or clinking glasses.  Not even the clacking sound of her heels can be heard as she continued along the now carpeted floor.

She grimaced at the task Robin cheekily sent her to do. She could swear the raven-haired women had something up her sleeve for she had seen a particular twinkle in her eyes like she knew something that was supposed to be a secret.

Nami stopped walking and took a deep breath. She kind of… have an inkling to what it was that Robin knew.

But first things, first…

She tapped her foot while pondering. It irked her a bit that the soft fabric underneath her shoes prevented her from hearing the sound her foot should be making.

If everything was silent in this area then definitely the drifting moss head had gone into hiding in one of these many rooms.

Nami did a double take when she realized she was still holding the glass Robin handed her earlier. With a shrug of her shoulders, she lifted the glass to her lips to taste the deep gold liquid. It would be a waste not to drink it.

She needs it much more than Zoro do.

Mmmm… that hits the spot. Nami mused, nodding her approval as she felt the familiar sensation of the liquor warming up her throat and cheeks. Licking her lips, she studied the red lipstick mark she left on the glass.

She made a mental note to grab more of these once she gets back to the party.

After she finds Zoro.

And where could he be? She is not really looking forward to searching all the rooms of the floor for him.

Nami strained her ears to listen if there was any sound of thunderous snoring coming from one of the rooms. Hearing nothing, she strolled forward, glancing left and right.

“He better be in here somewhere,” she muttered to herself. Because there is no way in hell that she’d try to look for him outside the estate grounds on this cold night. They could do without him in the meeting. They have too. Someone can just fill him in with whatever he was going to miss.

“What are you doing skulking around here like a thief?”

Nami whirled around instantly at that. She wasn’t surprised to see the person she was looking for, casually leaning against the now open doorway of one of the rooms she already passed. Zoro’s arms were folded across his chest, one eyebrow raised in inquiry as he regarded at her.

She just snorted at his accusation and fought the urge to remind him that she was indeed a thief… in case his stupid, sexy ass had forgotten about it.

But she just let it slide, and took another sip from the glass in her hand before approaching him.

“I’m skulking around because I’m looking for you. Robin told me to bring you upstairs, your presence is required at the meeting oh snarky one.”

Zoro just scoffed and pushed himself away from the doorway. Without another word, he went back inside the totally dark room where he was obviously ‘stealthily lounging’.

Nami followed suit. So he had holed himself up in one of the many rooms that served as an office library. From the looks of this one, no Mugiwara was using it because the place was still tidy. No books, open and unopened, were occupying the antique writing desk. No papers strewn everywhere, crumpled or not. No pens or mugs and glasses half-filled with coffee, tea, water or any alcoholic beverage. There are no missing books in the shelves. No diagrams, floor plans or maps posted and hanging on the walls, windows or on any available flat surface.

There was none of the signature chaos that takes over the room once someone from their team uses it.

Well, unless of course Zoro had already staked his claim on this room and was using it as his personal sleeping quarter-slash-hideout.

“What are you doing in here alone in the dark Zoro?” Nami asked, using the exact same tone he used when he questioned her earlier as she closed the door. “Hiding from someone? Or from everyone?”

“Hmph.”

“Or are you waiting for someone?” Nami sing-songed as she approached him. Zoro was now leaning against the desk with his arms crossed over his chest again in an imposing manner. She deliberately brushed against him to reach out and switched the pricey vintage desk lamp beside him to illuminate the room.

His grey eye was following her movements. Watching. Waiting.

“I brought you a drink.” She handed him the liquor glass she still have on her hand.

She smirked when his face scrunched into a frown as he took it from her, scrutinizing the alcohol inside. “Sorry I had to take a taste.” She grinned cheekily at him.

Zoro stared at the glass. Her lipstick mark was still on the glass rim, the red smear a stark contrast against the gold liquid… same color as that on her devilishly smiling lips.

“I don’t mind,” he said lowly. He lifted the glass and deliberately drank right at the area where her lipstick mark was.

Nami did not fight the urge to bite her lower lip.

Well fuck. Isn’t that hot?

“You didn’t bring more?” Zoro asked with a smirk after he downed all the remaining whiskey in one go.

Nami laughed teasingly. “Oh you have to come out of your hiding place if you want more of that.”

The green-haired man chuckled, setting the glass on the desk.

“Guess I’ll settle with this for now.”

His hand instantly reached out and grabbed her by the nape, pushing her forward to him and capturing her lips with his.

Nami pressed herself against him straightaway. It was like her body had a mind of its own. It knew exactly what to do the moment Zoro’s lips settled on hers. Her arms automatically went around his neck, her head tilted to give him more access to her mouth, to deepen their kiss so he could taste more of her and she could taste more of him.

She melted in his arms when his tongue traced her lower lip slowly before teasingly giving it a soft bite. She practically purred in delight at his action. She likes it when he does that. It always sent shivers running down her spine and she can feel the heat from that playful nip spreading from her lips to every damn part of her. 

She clung to him when she felt his fingers trailing down the bare skin of her back, her body quivering deliciously against the sensation. Zoro’s hold on her nape tightened. She felt him inhaled sharply before almost devouring her in their kiss, his mouth dominating hers in a way that made Nami heady, hot and needy all at the same time.

Zoro in turn completely caged her to him by wrapping one arm around her waist. His hand on her nape slowly moved to tangle with her unbound tresses and Nami realized from the slight movements his body was making that he plans to…

She pulled away almost immediately. Zoro’s face scrunched into a displeased frown.

“What?” He asked gruffly, looking peeved that she stopped their kiss.

Nami gave him a sassy grin. “We need to go upstairs for the meeting,” she reminded him, tapping his cheek lightly. Because good Kami if she didn’t stop him now, they won’t make it up there.

“Tch!”

“We have responsibilities tonight. Plus you also ruined my lipstick,” she chastised him softly even as she gave him a quick peck before proceeding to rub off the red smear on his lips with her thumb. “Didn’t I tell you that the lips are off limits when I’m all dolled up like this?” 

Nami tilted her head down to gesture at her sparkling champagne gown.

She smiled softly when his frown deepened. Zoro absolutely looked like a spoiled brat who didn’t get his way.

Adorable.

Nami traced his mouth softly with her thumb before kissing him again.

“Do we have to be there?” Zoro grudgingly asked when she pulled away again and resumed wiping of traces of her lipstick on him. They weren’t exactly letting anyone know about them. Heck, even they themselves don’t know what the real score between them is. They haven’t really discussed it. But somehow they had both come to an agreement that whatever they’re doing are exclusively just between them and third parties are not welcome. 

Robin probably (with her intelligence) knows a thing or two about them based on the way she was looking at Nami when she asked her to search for the green-haired man. And to be honest, Nami suspects that they are being whispered behind closed doors. Most of those in the low ranks are gossips after all.

They better be not in those idiots betting pool! She swore there will be hell to pay.

In the dim light of the room, she did her best to erase the remnants of red on his lips as Zoro watched her.

“Sorry, but boss’s orders.”

He grunted and straightened up, giving Nami a nod that they better go. He had a ‘let’s get this over with’ expression on his face and she chuckled.

Nami tugged at his dinner jacket. “We need to stop by my office first.”

“Huh? Why?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You made a mess of my make-up. I have to retouch.”

“Tch!”

“Don’t tch me! I absolutely refuse to walk into the meeting room without fixing myself first!” Nami glowered at him. “They’d get ideas.”

“No they won’t.”

“Yes they will. Robin is not an idiot.”

“Fine,” Zoro relented begrudgingly. Nami does have a point. He’s not looking forward being subjected to the others teasing or insinuations. “Lead the way woman.”

Nami flashed him a victorious smile. “Plus I also have to leave this there.”

She raised her hand and waved a small box in front his face.

Zoro’s brows furrowed when he realized what she was holding. “Damn it Nami!” He growled.

“Aaaw Zoro don’t be mad,” Nami pinched his cheek. “Is this for me?”

“I’m actually tempted to say no.”

“Ah, so this is mine!”

He was looking at her with a deadpan expression on his face. Nami just pressed a kiss on his cheek before mouthing ‘thank you’.

“I can’t believe you filched that, you’re unbelievable.” Zoro groused.

“Yup. Right in while you were busy shoving your tongue inside my mouth.” Nami brazenly declared as she observed the small yet pretty gift box. A sparkling ribbon was tied around it and she shook it lightly, her eyes widening at the sound coming from inside it. 

Zoro looked smug. “Don’t think you one upped me witch. I just didn’t stop you.”

But Nami was too happy and too distracted with her gift to pay any attention to what he was saying.

“Oooh! Did you get me something shiny and sparkly?” She probed, her tone enthusiastic. “I sure don’t mind getting something to pair with them.” She tilted her head slightly to show him the earrings she was wearing. The diamonds set on them came from Jozu Island and very hard to acquire. When Zoro said he’ll get her those, she had treated it as a joke at first. But when he handed her a black velvet box containing the said stones in their raw beauty, she realized he was dead serious in with his word.

Nami had some of them set into different jewelries. And once they were done, she wore them to show Zoro just how absolutely stunning they looked, especially against her naked skin. 

He just snorted at her. “Why don’t you open it?”

She excitedly tugged at the box’s ribbon, letting it fall down the floor. She lifted the top cover up and peered inside.

“Uh… wow.” She slowly nodded her head hoping it would give her time to wrap this one around her brain and figure out why she is looking at…

“Keys?” Nami looked up at Zoro in surprise.

Zoro smirked. “What? Are you expecting something else?”

Nami recovered quickly. “Nope. Not really.” She forced out a laugh. “I mean, I was actually expecting not to get anything from you at all after those diamonds.” She stared at the content of the box again. It wasn’t even a key for a car. She thought, a bit dumbfounded. So what the hell is…

She lifted her head and realized that Zoro was now looking at her amusedly. He had this certain expression on his handsome face that tells her he is up to something.

“What?” Nami queried, cocking an eyebrow at him. “I don’t like the expression on your face right now.”

He just shrugged his shoulders and continued looking at her with amusement dancing behind his grey eye.

“Merry Christmas Nami.” He greeted in that deep, lazy voice of his. “That should stop you from nicking my own set.”

Nami’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open when she finally realized what those keys are for.

Stupid Zoro just gave her her own set of keys for his house.

Her very own set.

She glanced down at it again.

Does he have any idea on how serious the implication of his gift was?

She lifted her eyes up to gaze at his face. And she knew instantaneously that he had thought this one through. After all, Zoro rarely decides things on a whim.

Without another word she threw herself at him, glomping him with enough force to almost push him back against the writing desk.

She buried her face on his neck. She could feel the rumble of laughter on his chest at her reaction.

“I take it that you like it?” Zoro laughingly asked.

Nami looked up at him and replied with a dazzling smile. “Definitely.”

“Better than the diamonds?”

“That is a hard question Zoro.” She mock-pouted. “I like them both very much.”

Zoro responded with a chuckle.  

She studied his face for a moment, unsure on how she would ask the question that’s weighing on her mind for months now.

“Zoro…”

“Hnn?”

Nami took a deep breath. “You know that this… you know that this means…” she trailed off and instead pointed a finger at him and then at herself. “Are we making this official?” She just blurted out not knowing how to proceed anymore.

His answer was a simple yes. And gave her that smile that never fails to steal her breath away. That one smile she always, always coveted to see directed at her.

And there was no really better response to that but to press her lips on his in the softest of kisses that he eagerly returned.

She was giggling when she pulled away. “I’m so going to put that bathroom of yours into good use.” She murmured while running her fingers through his hair.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she affirmed. “And you will definitely have a lot of sleepless nights from here on.” She grinned naughtily at him.

“Looking forward to it.” He whispered before Nami kissed him again.

“And also, now that we are official,” Nami murmured in between kisses. “I will collect my percentages from all your betting pool wins.”

Zoro jerked back at that and was now staring at her incredulously.

She smiled mischievously at him. “Oh. Usopp tattled.”

“Usopp?” Zoro repeated. “That idiot. Pretty sure he wants to split the wins tonight with you.”

“Definitely. And the tattler also told me you’re in it too. So want to counter-offer?”

Zoro looked like he was pondering for a moment. “No way that’s gonna be fifty-fifty. You’re too much of a witch to be fair.”

Nami threw her head back and laugh.

“Sixty-forty,” she offered impishly.

“I knew it.” Zoro huffed with a roll of his eyes.

Nami tapped his chest. “Sixty on you… and you take me out on a really fancy date.”

Zoro grinned. “Eighty-twenty.”

Nami’s eyebrows disappeared behind her bangs.

“I’ll take you out on a fancy date and not on that place where dartboard brows goes.”

“Go on…” Nami still looked unconvinced.

Zoro bent down slightly so his lips were now touching her ear. “Then I’ll take you home. And we’ll spend all three days before the New Year party in bed.”

The corners of Nami’s lips quirked at that.

“You better not be talking about just sleeping there Zoro.”

“Of course I’m not.”

“Then you got yourself a deal.”

[prettywordsblog]

PAIRING Roman & gn reader

SUMMARY two friends, catching up. But the topic of childhood memories spark tensions.

WORD COUNT 1.7k

THEMES angst, one sided feelings, Roman being Roman

A/N got inspired when I was reading dog and bone on ao3 (go read it)

You and Roman have known each other since childhood. You, being Logan’s goddaughter, had grown up quite close to all the Roy children, but being closer in age to Roman meant that the two of you stuck together. Luckily, you never endured Logan’s toxicity— directly at least.

You often witnessed his wrath, unleashing on his poor children. It always made your head spin. Often, you’d stay up late, comforting whichever child that fell victim to his anger. And even more often, this was Roman.

The door of your apartment clicks open.

“Roman?”

“Nyello,” You hear his voice behind you. “I always forget how much I love your apartment. I really feel like I’m part of the lower middle class whenever I’m in here.”

You roll your eyes at his snarkiness, but smile. It’s nice to see your old friend.

“You really took your sweet time getting here didn’t you?”

He checks his watch. “Time is relative. I’m basically on time.”

“If on time means an hour late, sure.”

“We’re just hanging out, what’s the rush?” He sits on the couch across from you, slumping down on it like a bored schoolboy.

You raise your eyebrows “Well, if you showed up on time, we’d have more time together. Beer?”

“Yes please, madam” He says ‘madam’ with a certain sarcasm.

You grab two bottles and hand one to him. The two of you drink and talk for hours, like time hasn’t passed since you last saw each other. The conversations go from childish banter, to the siblings and the family.

“Maybe Logan will drop dead soon and you won’t have to worry about it anymore. He’s prehistoric.” You scoff. “I bet he witnessed that asteroid killing the dinosaurs.”

“Fingers crossed. But you know he’ll live forever just because he’s the embodiment of evil, and evil never dies.”

“I guess you’ll be around for a while then.”

“Oh fuck off,” He rolls his eyes. “I’m good. Unlike Dad I don’t have the soul of a sadist lurking under my skin.”

“Yeah, true. You got the soul of a masochist instead”

“Is that why I’m sitting here drinking beer with you instead of someone whose company I actually enjoy?”

You smile. “Yep.”

He takes a hearty sip of beer. “Sounds about right.”

Hours continue to pass. Time with him seems to fly by.

“Oh man, I'm going to hate myself tomorrow morning when my head is banging and I'm remembering everything I said to you tonight.” He puts the fourth bottle down.

“Hey,” You shoot him a look. “Talking to me is a blessing.”

“Hanging out with you like this is a sign I’ve truly hit rock bottom. I mean, I could be out doing something else.” He crosses his arms and puffs his chest out ever so slightly. He thinks he looks cool, but he’s clearly forgetting he’s a tiny, insecure man.

“Uh huh,” You nod, unamused. “Like what? Flirting with women and then getting scared when they wanna sleep with you?”

“Shut up. I have the worst friends.”

“Friend, you mean. There’s just me.”

“Well, you’re a shitty enough friend. I don’t need more.”

You smirk. You know he doesn’t mean it. It’s easy for you to see past the rude comments, despite the fact he hasn’t always been like this. “Glad I’m special enough to be the only one.” You pull your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross on the couch.

“At least somebody likes me. Well I don't even know if you like me actually, I think you just tolerate me because I'm your childhood friend and you've already invested too many years in this relationship to quit now.”

You shrug. “That’s definitely one theory.”

You think to yourself for a moment and chuckle. “You know, when I think about it, neither of us really had other friends growing up. Same with Kendall and Connor and Shiv.”

He thinks for a moment. “Yeah, I guess we never really did.”

“No wonder we’re such awful people”

“Well, I definitely think you're onto something. We're just a sad bunch of lonely little shits aren't we?”

“Roman? Talking about his feelings?” You let out a fake gasp. He’s not exactly talking about his feelings, but it’s rare he’s honest like this.

“Oh, shove it. I just had a thought, and I'm allowed to have thoughts.”

“You know what, it’s actually nice that you’re not having weird, perverse thoughts for once. Maybe this is good.”

“Hey. I’m not as depraved as you are. Whore.”

“Mhm,” You take another sip of beer. “Remember that time you sent your own father a dick pic?”

He groans. “I’ve told you this before. It was for another girl, who just happened to be under Dad’s contact.”

You raise an eyebrow. He left out the part about how it was for Gerri. “Oh yeah, speaking of that. How’s it going in the uh, woman department?”

“Well, it's pretty dead actually. I've just been so focused on trying to avoid my father's wrath recently I haven't had time for any more of my womanizing ways…”

“You could always go for the geriatrics in ATN, since that seems to be your type.”

“Oh yeah, those are the only women who would sleep with me right?”

“I figure you’d like it that way,” You laugh.

“Har har.” He rolls his eyes.

A moment of silence passes. Talking to Roman again had been sending waves of nostalgia all night. It’s only been a couple months since you’ve seen him, but it felt like ages. Your mind wanders down memory lane, particularly to the sweet, intimate moments you shared with him in your youth. You hesitate to bring things up, but decide there’s no harm in it.

“Remember when we used to sleep together all the time when we were little? ‘Cus you were scared of sleeping alone?”

He pauses, and then snickers. “My god, you have some nerve. Are you trying to embarrass me now?”

You scoff. “Way to ruin a potentially sentimental moment. I was just… reminiscing.”

“Reminiscing? Oh yeah I’m sure, you’re just all sentimental about our childhood. Is that what you call it?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Jesus is it that weird that I think about it every now and then?”

“Well, for normal people maybe not, but for you it is a little weird I must say. You know why?”

Your nose wrinkles as you shoot him a look. “Why’s that?”

“Because you're you. And I know you're not just reminiscing and thinking about the "good old days." I know you're thinking about us and how we used to be and what could've been.”

Your mouth drops open slightly. The sudden aggression makes something in your stomach churn. It reminds you of Logan, in a way.

But you just inhale deeply and turn your head towards the window.

“Oh please, don't you play dumb with me! I know you better than anyone else does.”

You get up abruptly to throw the empty cans of beer away. “You’re such a dick.”

He gets up as well. “Oh, I'm the dick, okay. Because I can see what you're feeling and you're clearly not used to anyone actually reading your emotions so now you're freaking out and getting all pissy at me.”

“You don’t have to rub salt in the wound.”

“So there’s a wound?” He puts his hands on his hips, in the typical Roman fashion.

You narrow your eyes and him. “Yes. There’s several.”

“Oh come on, it was such a long time ago.”

“I would be over it if I wasn’t strung along by you all the time, like a fucking dog. I’m always stuck at your side but you just get to do whatever you want because you’re Roman Roy.”

He groans. “Oh please, don't even start with me. You love being at my side, because I'm the only person you know that actually treats you with a modicum of respect, unlike my father who's a walking pile of dogshit you've grown used to, or Kendall who is just an entitled brat, or Shiv who doesn't even see you as a person. But I still treat you like a human being despite all the crap you've put me through over the years. You just don't want to admit that I'm the most decent person in this whole rotten family.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and squeeze your eyes shut, turning away from him. “God, you drive me insane.”

“Yeah? Well, welcome to my world.”

You lean against your kitchen counter. You can’t believe his audacity. To bring up the fact you still want him after all these years, to bring it up like it’s nothing. You never even told him.

You always forget how perceptive he is.

“I stick by your side ‘cus I know no one has your back like I do.” You mutter.

“Yeah, that's true. But you know what else is true? The reason you keep sticking by my side is because deep down you still believe that I might return those feelings for you one day.”

Your heart drops even more. You want to say something, something quippy. But you can’t, all you can feel is that burning in your throat, and you know you won’t be able to say anything without coughing up sobs. So you sit there. And sniffle quietly.

His gaze softens, however. He feels panic arize in him, snapping out of his ill-mannered mood. “Hey, wait. Don't cry. God, I hate it when you cry. Hey, hey, don't get all teary eyed on me. You know how much I don't like it when you're upset.”

He walks over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders, trying to present a scrap of regret. “Don't cry, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me tonight. I'm sorry, I am. You're my best friend. You are, and you always will be. I don't know what I'd do without you to be completely honest.”

Seconds pass silently. He stands there, not knowing what to do, other than attempting to comfort you as he watches tears stream down the side of your face.

“…Rome?”

“Yeah?”

“… Can we lay down together? Like I mentioned earlier?”

You feel his grip on your shoulders lighten. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Let’s do that, it’s okay.”

The two of you walk to your bedroom, not a word spoken. You lay down beside him, looking up at your ceiling.

“I can’t remember the last time we did this.” He finally says.

You move your hand on top of his, gently running your thumb alongside his. “It’s been a while.”

“A long while.”

[nightguide]

CUZ I WUV U

ANALYSTS (ASSHOLES FOR GOOD MEASURE)

INTJ: FUCK YOU DICKHEADS, I AM BETTR THAN U IN SQKWAT PHYSICS DNA TESTED FOR DEMENTIA SQUARED DISS U PHYSICS

#METOO MOVEMENT NIGGAS

SATANIC HEARTBREAKERS WICCAS

JUSTIFY MY DICK, YOU'RE MY FRIEND IMMEDIATELY JAMAICANS

INTP: MY ASS IS BIGGER THAN YOUR CLASS

THE MATRIX IS ME NIGGAS

IN CUTE WICCAS

SHUT THE FUCK UP AN DO IT JAMAICANS

ENTJ: GOLDEN LABRADOR RETRIEVER (BASICALLY)

LINNA RIAZ NIGGAS

MY MOM HATES ME BUT IM OKAY ABOUT IT WICCAS

ANGELINA JOLIE FANBASE UNITED NATIONS JAMAICANS

ENTP: IM BETTER THAN YOU (HARLEQUINN ENERGY)

EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE COMMUNITY (TV SHOW) FANBASE NIGGAS

DEMI LOVATO WICCAS

ALIEN IN AMERICAN HORROR STORY JAMAICANS

DIPLOMATS: I CRIED IN MY SLEEP FOR YOUR PUNY LITTLE ASSBAT TO DO MY BIDDING (EVIL TO THE CORE)

INFJ: *LAUGHS IN GLEE PURELY CUZ 'THEY HATE ME' IS NOW CURRENCY

EVAN GRIMM FANBASE IS IN HATE TO HUMANITY BECAUSE HE AINT WRONG BUT HE IS NOT RIGHT EITHER NIGGAS

DO ME WICCAS

SHUT UP JAMAICANS

INFP: IF I AM MYSELF

ANSON SEABRA FANBASE NIGGAS

SELENA GOMEZ IS RIGHT WICCAS

NOBODY CARES JAMAICANS

ENFJ: I AM RIGHT (ZOD ENERGY IS THERE BUT NO SUPERMAN)

TONIGHT NIGGAS

TODAY WICCAS

TOMORROW JAMAICANS

ENFP: I CANT DO IT (ACTUALLY THE INNOCENT ONE)

FORGET IT NIGGAS

LGBTQIA+ WICCAS

PLEASE DONT MAKE ME KILL YOU JAMAICANS

SENTINELS: JUST LEAVE IT TO THE GOOD GUYS (SMITH MOTHER ENERGY IN PRIME LIGHT)

ISTJ: FORGET ABOUT IT

WHY ARE YOU SAD NIGGAS

THE PURGE WICCAS

TAYLOR SWIFT JAMAICANS

ISFJ: CUTE AS HELL

BELIEVE IN ME NIGGAS

I WISH WICCAS

WALT DISNEY IS ACTUALLY COCA COLA FANBASE JAMAICANS

ESTJ: *BUNNY GOES 'HOP'*

JIM CARREY NIGGAS

VINE ASSOCIATION WICCAS

INFLUENCER JAMAICANS

ESFJ: THE OSCARS U PRETEND TO WIN ALONE WHEN NO ONES LOOKING

STANBASE NIGGAS

'I HOPE' WICCAS

POKEMON STANS JAMAICANS

EXPLORERS: 'SCIENTOLOGY IS EMO' - TOM CRUISE (APPARENTLY)

ISTP: BOB THE BUILDER THEME TUNE

CAN WE FIX IT NIGGAS

YES WE CAN WICCAS

ENGLISH DEFENCE LEAGUE JAMAICANS

ISFP: DUH DUH DUH DUH DI DEH DUH DI DEH DA DA DA DA DI DEH DUH DI DEH (INTUITIVELY)

DARTH MAUL FORGOT YOU NIGGAS

DICKHEAD IN REAL LIFE WICCAS

SHUTTHEFUCKUPIMONTHEPHONEJAMAICANSMEANGRY JAMAICANS

ESTP: JAMES MORRISON WANNABES

JORDAN BELFORT IN REAL LIFE NIGGAS

IM BETTER THAN YOU SHADAP WICCAS

TOMCRUISEISGAY4LYF JAMAICANS

ESFP: *HEHEHE* BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH IS GRINCH SHERLOCK XP MODE FOR LYF

TOMORROW IS NOW BUT NEVER NIGGAS

BRAT CHARLI XCX ERA WICCAS

BLONDE GIRL IN REAL LIFE JAMAICANS

[poptartmochi]

ykw on account of becoming a metaphysical anchor for the planet and thus becoming basically a ghost... I Think the tears/tear tracks can be a permanent fixture on her face 😈😈

[smurphyse]

The Proposition | Dark!Bucky Barnes

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 2 of Lesser of Two Evils

Warnings: domestic violence, fear, hair pulling, forced showers, threat of rape, humiliation, graphic depictions of violence

Summary: Trapped with James Barnes, he takes you to his penthouse... and a shower with you

Note: This is a dubcon/noncon fic! Heavy violent content and smut will be prevalent. Read at your own risk and mind the warnings at the beginning of each chapter.

You were fucked. Completely and totally fucked. 

How could you not think that Loki's enemies would find you? It was always a possibility but this quick? They must have been watching. 

Your body could have vibrated you off the seat with how much you trembled next to James Barnes. His biceps alone were bigger than your head, coiled muscle strong enough to punch through concrete and your dumb skinny ass was sat beside him. 

At least you're not with Loki, you told yourself feebly. Not yet anyways…

You pulled up to a badge access building in what you knew to be one of the richest areas of NYC. The Buchanan Inc. sign glowed in the darkness, ominous blue and red neon making your stomach turn. You were heading into the belly of the beast itself. 

The car waited for a garage door to open before pulling inside, the sounds of the city muffled by the walls. The building was a city block wide, and the first floor garage was as well. Antique and luxury cars lined the walls, a few obvious pet projects here and there. 

You gawked at them as you passed. Loki's interests lay in art or jewels, his favorite things to show off as if to prove his bank account size. While luxurious, this place was already more down to earth than Loki's garish green and white marble and gold accents. 

The door popped open, and James held out his hand for you to take as he stepped out. You hesitated, biting your bottom lip as you watched him worriedly. 

"Come on," he commanded with beckoning fingers, and on autopilot you slapped your palm into his and let him help you out. 

Your legs were like jelly, and the moment you had both feet planted on the ground they collapsed. You clenched your eyes shut in preparation for your knees hitting the concrete, but two strong arms landed under your armpits and hoisted you back up. 

When you peeked through them, James was watching you with an amused smile, "Tired from running?"

You nodded sheepishly, ashamed at how much muscle mass you'd lost because of Loki and his rules. "I don't get to run much anymore."

He made a grumbling noise and frowned, but before you could react James swept you up in his arms, ignoring your little yelp of shock. He took you to an elevator at the back of the garage, nuzzling you into his chest. 

He smelled like sweat and leather, manly and strong. It was a welcome change from Loki's manufactured colognes and snakelike presence, fake and cold. James was hot to the touch, but in the blistering fall chill it was welcome despite your fear. Just the change was better even for a moment, even if you died tonight at least you weren't with Loki. 

Your eyelids drooped as the elevator rose, your body going lax in his warm embrace. You were so tired…so weak and exhausted from almost an entire year of pain and misery. You just wanted to rest. 

A hand slapping lightly at your cheek lurched you out of your doze, a sharp cry of shock bursting from your lips. You scrambled back until you hit something hard, struggling to keep your eyes open. 

When you latched onto James's ice blues, you wrapped your arms around yourself in a pathetic effort of comfort. He was kneeling before you in a dark tiled bathroom, his hands heavy on your shoulders. His mouth was moving, but you frowned and cocked your head. 

"W-what?" 

"Can you stand long enough for a shower?" he asked, obviously irritated. 

"Uhm, I think so," you muttered, trying and failing to get up. Your ass hit the floor as your trembling limbs refused to cooperate, and you burst into tears. 

"Okay, okay, hey," James hushed harshly, cupping your face in his hands. "It's alright. I'll help you."

He got up and walked over enough to turn on the shower, waiting for it to warm up before coming back and reaching for you. The bathroom was huge, with a clawfoot tub in the middle big enough for a giant and the entire back wall as the glass doored shower. Everything was a dark tile with silver accents, black towels hanging from the racks. 

"Is this your bathroom?" you asked stupidly as he picked you up. "I don't wanna get it dirty."

James shot you a queer look before chuckling to himself. He carried you with ease, set on his hip like a child. You weighed nothing to him, clinging to his shoulders as he set you down next to the shower. 

"Hold on to me," he told you, and you did what you were told. 

James got to his knees and slipped off your shoes, careful to go slowly as you clung to him with shaky arms. He set them aside and slid his large hands up your legs, settling them on your waistband. His warmth bled through your thin leggings as he palmed you for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh before he tugged them and your panties down in one go. 

"Wait," you pleaded, but he ignored your naked body and lifted one foot to slide them off, then did the same with the other one. 

As he stood back up, James tugged off his jacket and then your sweater, leaving you nude and exposed before him, hands and face covered in sweat and dirt, your skin patched red with anxiety. Your heart threatened to burst from your chest as you avoided his gaze, boring a hole through you as you trembled before him. 

Holding onto your hip with a heavy hand, he gripped the back of his shirt with the other, revealing his hard muscled chest and prosthetic robotic arm. You gazed in wonder at the spot where it met his shoulder, your fingers moving toward it on autopilot as he tugged off his gloves. 

James's hand gripped your wrist harshly before you could touch it, yanking your hair and arm back in one swift movement. 

"S-sorry," you gasped as he angled your head up to watch you with those fierce eyes. "I'm sorry."

His firm grip eased, letting you go but keeping one hand on your hip as one of his went to his belt buckle, keeping eye contact with you. When you realized he was shedding more than just his shirt, your body threatened to go to your knees once more. 

"Wait, wait," you begged, your eyes welling once more. Your chin wobbled as he ignored you and kicked off his boots. "Please, you don't have to do this."

James flashed you an annoyed look and sighed, "I ain't gonna hurt you, doll."

Pushing down his pants and setting them aside, James smirked at the terror on your face. When he straightened up your eyes landed on his half hard cock between his legs, and you burst into tears once more. 

"Please don't do this," you sobbed, but he ignored you, lifting you and taking you into the shower. "I'll do anything, please please don't hurt me!"

He carried you under the warm steam, the water coasting over your sore and aching body. You couldn't help but relax under it and the way he held you to his chest, grateful for a soft touch when for so long the only thing you'd known was hard knuckles and sharp screams. 

"I can't take any more," you whispered against him, and he stilled. "Please, I just… I just wanted to go somewhere safe."

James's hands cradled your back, his thumbs rubbing lightly as he held you under the water. He pressed his cheek against the top of your head and said simply, "Then you should have let me shoot you."

The breath caught in your chest, tears streaming silently down your cheeks with the water. After a while James set you down on the warm tile, making you face him and hold onto his shoulder as he lathered up a loofa. You kept your eyes on his damaged shoulder as he washed you, tracing every detail of the scars as your mind attempted to dissociate from what you knew was about to happen. 

He dragged the loofa across your chest and arms, dropping to his knees as he moved on to your dirty hands. He slowed when he scrubbed the mud from your right wrist, eyeing the long scar on it that led up your forearm. He glared at it for a moment before moving on, cleaning your bruised legs and feet. 

James turned you to face the wall and washed your back, scrubbing lightly as the dirt swirled down the drain. He even washed and detangled your hair, ignoring your quivering as he did so. 

When he was done, his arms wrapped around you and pulled your back to his chest. You stared soullessly at the tile wall as his hands began to wander over the bruises littering your body, pressing his fingers lightly into each one and smirking when you hissed at the pain. 

"You've been through a lot, doll," he whispered, his breath fanning across your ear and making you shiver. "How'd you get messed up with men like me?"

When you said nothing, his palms glided up your belly to cup your breasts, swirling your nipples under his thumbs. He groaned softly and pressed his now terrifyingly hard thick length into your backside, and your vision began to blur. 

"Do you like the danger?" James asked, amused at your stiff shaking body. "Or are you just a stupid little girl who got in over her head?"

Your jaw clenched as you struggled to hold back your sobs, sniffling and committing each line of tile to memory. His cock was massive, thicker and longer than Loki's, who was already more than you could really take. If he did what you thought he was going to, this man was going to rip you in half. 

He sighed and moved to the other ear to whisper, so you couldn't ignore him. James dragged his hands down your sides, steadying himself with one hand on your hip as the other slid between your legs to cup your pussy. His thick middle finger pressed against your seam, but he didn't press inside, just seemed to be waiting for you to react once more. 

"I see why Loki wanted you for himself," he said softly, far too soft for the situation you were in. "Put some meat on these bones and wipe away the dirt… and you're a sweet little thing aren't you?"

Your brows furrowed, "Meat?"

James chuckled darkly, "You're all skin and bones, doll. There's nothing to hold onto like this. I'd snap you in half, but with the pants pinkie I'm sure Loki's toting around it worked for him."

You huffed a surprised laugh. You'd never heard anyone disrespect Loki, especially not in such an area that would make him see red. 

"Oh, look at that," James marveled, and when you turned your head he pressed his nose to your cheek and kissed it softly. "Turns out you do have some useful information for me."

You shook your head the best you could like that, "I don't know anything about his work. He keeps me in the house and I'm not allowed to leave without him."

"But you know what's in his heart," James implored, and to your shock he kissed your cheek again. 

"He doesn't have one."

James laughed and pulled his hand away, flicking your clit and making your hips jump as he did so. Without another word he flipped off the shower and guided you out of it. You stood patiently as he dried you off with one of the towels, then himself. 

"Come with me," he said, beckoning you to follow him out of the bathroom. 

You padded after him slowly, trying and failing to cover your body with just your busted hands. The room had one wall of windows lined with cushioned ledges of dark velvet. A massive four poster bed rested in the middle of the room, the covers so soft and plush looking you just wanted to sink into them forever. 

James led you over to one wall, opening it to reveal a large closet. He tugged on a pair of black joggers and a tight gray shirt, then reached out a hand for you. 

You took it cautiously, and he tugged you to his side and wrapped an arm over your shoulders. His skin was hot even beneath his clothes, holding you tightly as if you could run away if you dared try. James plucked a black shirt from a shelf and without a word unfurled it and shoved it over your head, ignoring your little grunt. 

He helped you put your arms through the sleeves, tugging it down until it went halfway down your thighs. When he was satisfied, James led you over to the bed and sat on the edge, pulling you between his thighs and palming your waist. 

"I have a proposition for you, doll," he said coyly, his bright eyes gleaming with a mischief you'd only seen from Loki. 

You said nothing, just watched him as your jaw threatened to crumble from the weight of you clenching it. James pulled you closer until you were forced to straddle his lap. His cock strained underneath the expensive fabric of his pants, and he'd given you nothing to cover yourself with besides the t-shirt. All you could do was hold onto his shoulders and wait. 

"It's clear to me that Loki didn't appreciate the little gem he had in his pocket," James began, rubbing his thumbs into your skin like a lover, but his eyes were too devious. "You don't want to go back there, do you?"

You shook your head slowly, and James smiled.

"Then stay here with me."

You frowned, your brows furrowing, "Why?"

James licked his bottom lip and sighed, "You need someone to keep you safe from Loki, and I'll do it in exchange for something. We'll make an agreement, just you and me."

The steady beat of anxiety now fluttered through your chest like a raging butterfly, wild and scared, "I don't know anything about Loki's job, I'm sorry. I don't have anything to give you."

James grinned, and his hands moved to cup your ass tightly, kneading it with his fingers. You closed your eyes and shuddered with fear, and he took advantage, leaning in and licking a hot stripe up your neck. 

"You can give me your body," he murmured, and your eyes snapped open. 

"If you're going to rape me just get it over with," you growled, tired of his games. 

James's hand tangled into your damp hair in an instant, yanking your head back and making your back arch as you cried out in pain. 

"Either you give me your body or I feed you to the wolves," he snarled, his breath hot against the exposed column of your throat. "It's your choice, doll."

"Why?" you squeaked, "You can have anyone you want."

Your scalp burned as he pulled you close, his hot breath staining your skin. James kissed the hollow of your throat and bucked up into you before whispering darkly, "Sweet little doll, I bet you're the perfect little toy. So soft and pliant…"

His free hand slipped under the hem of the shirt, smoothing up your belly and between your breasts until his fingers wrapped around your bruised throat. He throttled you a little, groaning as his dick pulsed beneath you. You let out a little choking gasp as he pulled you close. 

James's eyes burned brightly as he forced you to look at him, "I'll keep you safe, okay? That's all you need to know. You wanted to go somewhere safe and you have, right here with me."

Your tears blurred your vision as you panted. You weren't sure what the hell to make of this, of what to do. Swallowing thickly, you asked in a small voice, "I won't have to go back there?"

James shook his head, "As long as you're with me, Loki won't ever touch you."

A life without Loki, but…would it be a life? If all James wanted was your body, would you get to be yourself outside of this room? It didn't matter. If this place turned out to be anything like Loki's… you'd kill yourself. You wouldn't risk this happening again. You would have to choose between them.

The lesser of two evils.

"Okay," you whispered shakily. "You can have my body."

James grinned like the devil, and just as quick you were twisted and pressed into the mattress, the leader of HYDRA holding you down like a predator victorious over his prey. 

You shook with unrestrained fear as he fondled you, exploring every inch he could reach and ignoring your tears. Unlike Loki his hands were warm, scorching hot like the wrath that coiled beneath his skin. 

James leaned in close and gripped your jaw in his large hand, sure to bruise and add to your growing collection. When he pressed his lips to yours, it was firm and strong, surprisingly soft for such a hard man. 

You stared wide eyed at the ceiling until he pulled away, fully expecting him to take what he wanted and give you nothing in return. Instead, James pulled you up to the pillows and to his side, covering you up and kissing the top of your head. 

"Get some sleep," he said softly. 

He maneuvered you until your head rested on his shoulder, one hand on his chest. James wrapped his arms around you, rubbing soft lines up and down your back and lulling you into unwilling sleep. You tried to stay awake in this foreign place, but you'd been up all night waiting for Loki to fall asleep. 

This mad dash to freedom started in one monster's bedroom, and it seemed to have ended in another. 

What were you going to do?

Notes: 😱 What has our dear reader gotten herself into? How do you think her relationship with Bucky is going to go?

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Want to be on my Marvel taglist? Send me an ask and I'll add you to it!

Marvel tag: @cjand10 @kbakery @nomajdetective @goldensunflowe-r @asiludida164 @50shadesofuncomfortable

[s-brant]

Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

[phoebe-delia]

Has anyone asked for song #1 yet? I'm very curious which song you're listening to most.

I really enjoy your writing in combination with the song prompts! Thank you for sharing it with the world!

Hello darling! Thank you for this ask. As a matter of fact, no one has requested 1!

My number 1 song is the explicit version of "Potential Breakup Song" by Aly and AJ.

I know, I thought it would be a Taylor Swift song, too! I will say, this playlist was from Apple Music and I recently started using Spotify more so idk if this is still accurate for my current No. 1 song, but it's still a bop.

This is a bit of a challenge, but I figure if I can write a fic based on "Yeah!" by Usher, I can give this a try. This fic will be *mostly* funny and fluffy but there's some angst with a happy ending.

5 Times Draco Almost Broke Up With Harry

1.

"Tell me something," Draco said shyly, tracing patterns into Harry's bare arm. Sunlight streamed into the living room, dust motes dancing in the rays.

"What do you mean?"

"Something I don't already know about you."

"Like what?"

Draco's expression turned exasperated. "I don't know, Harry, that's rather the point."

"Right...er, okay, here's something you don't know about me. I don't like whipped cream."

Draco looked at him, startled. "You don't?"

"Er, no. I also don't like marshmallows or--"

"What?"

"Or avocado, or eggs."

Draco sputtered. "What is wrong with you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Merlin, here we go."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Every time I tell people the foods I don't like, they get all indignant and huffy," Harry waved a hand. "It's so weird. Like I've offended them by disliking meringue."

"You don't like meringue?! That's it, I'm breaking up with you."

Harry groaned. "I regret this. I regret everything. Just--forget it."

Draco sighed. "No, no I'm sorry. In my exaggerated teasing, I see how I might've struck a nerve."

"It's fine--I'm just tired of people taking my food preferences as a personal insult."

"I take everything you do as a personal insult."

Harry just chuckled. "That you do, Draco, that you do."

2.

"POTTER!!"

"WHAT?"

"GET IN HERE!"

"WHERE'S 'HERE'?"

"TAKE A WILD GUESS, AUROR POTTER!"

....

"Ah, good to see that your tracking skills aren't too hopeless. Now, care to tell me what's wrong with this picture?"

"Er...you're angry?"

"Yes, I am angry--and the reason for that is obvious if you merely look around the room and see if you can identify what might be bothering me."

"You get really formal when you're upset."

"Potter--"

"And you call me Potter."

"If only you would use your powers of observation for discovering the cause and not the symptoms of my frustration, this conversation would be over."

...

"Is it my socks?"

"Your socks, your pants, your shirt, your trousers--all in a heap in the closet."

"So? I haven't done laundry in a while."

"Potter, you do realize there are laundry spells, don't you? So that dirty clothes don't stink up one's closet?"

"...No?"

Sigh. "Alright, I suppose I won't move out this time."

"Oh, what a relief."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Never. Especially not toward you, baby."

"I should hope not. Now, c'mere and let me teach you the spell."

3.

"I can't believe you'd betray me like this." Draco shook his head mournfully, bits of snow falling from the top of his warm hat. "I trusted you."

Harry scoffed. His breath fogged in the air. "I told you this was happening today. It's not my fault you weren't listening."

"Asking me post-coital if I'd like to attend the Weasley Family Brunch is Slytherin-level manipulation."

"Did I ever tell you the Sorting Hat almost put me in Slytherin?"

"What?" Draco stopped walking, turning to Harry in shock.

"Yeah. Told me I'd do well. But you'd been such an arse to Ron that I begged it to sort me anywhere else."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course. Honestly, I did you a favor. You were practically made for Gryffindor."

"Who knows? Maybe we'd have been friends back then."

Draco glared and Harry snickered.

"You know, Potter, between your little jokes and this stunt you pulled, I'm one insult away from Apparating on the spot and leaving you here."

Harry smiled fondly. Taking Draco's hand, he led them toward the Burrow, its warm light a welcome destination in the icy weather.

"Nah, you won't, you know why?"

"Why?"

Harry smirked. "Because then we won't get to be post-coital together."

Draco scowled. Harry laughed.

4.

"Don't say a word."

"Can I just--"

"Harry."

"But I--"

"Potter. Shut up.

...

"Draco I'm sorry--"

"Harry, what is the one thing I asked you to do when you became an Auror?"

"...Don't be stupid."

"Yes. I asked you not to do anything stupid. I asked you not to impulsively put yourself in harm's way."

"Draco it's my job to protect my partner, and--"

"You don't think I understand that? Of course I do! I can't fault you for being a loyal partner, Harry, but running into a hostage situation without calling for backup is the absolute dumbest thing you could've done! You nearly died!"

"But I didn't! And the case is over now."

"You were in St. Mungos for nearly a week! Do you know how agonizing it was to see you like that? Do you--" Draco's voice cracked and he cut himself off, turning away from Harry.

Harry's heart clenched. He walked up to Draco and wrapped strong arms around him from behind, expecting to be pushed away. Instead, Draco leaned into the touch.

"I know your job has its risks, Harry, but the least you can do is not create them for yourself. You said the Sorting Hat nearly put you in Slytherin; some self-preservation would be good for you."

Harry sighed, nuzzling Draco's neck. "Okay. I'll try."

Draco turned in his arms, looking at Harry with wet eyes. "Good. The last thing I want to do is break up with you, but I couldn't handle it if I lost you any other way, I--" The tears spilled at that. Draco's face flushed in embarrassment, in anguish.

Harry's chest constricted. He pulled Draco close to himself and stroked his hair, letting the other man cry his fears into his shirt.

"I won't let it happen, Draco. I promise."

Draco nodded, his cheek brushing Harry's shirt.

Harry smiled. They'd be okay.

5.

Draco was going to kill Harry.

He was going to break up with him, and then kill him, and then revive him just to break up with him once more.

He cast a Tempus. 8:20.

Over an hour. Over an hour he'd been waiting for Harry to return home. He was beginning to get hot in his tailored suit, despite the cooling charms.

He hadn't heard anything. No Owl, no Floo, no nothing. Either Harry had no respect for decorum or...

Nope. Draco couldn't go there, wouldn't. Harry promised and he always kept his promises.

Suddenly, the Floo roared to life, making Draco jump. Harry stumbled through with a panicked expression on his face, dusting the Floo powder from his formal robes.

"Draco! Merlin, I'm so sorry, I thought I had time and then everything got all screwed up and I got here as fast as I could."

Draco sighed. "It's fine, Harry, let's just order takeaway."

"Why?"

"Well, we missed our reservation. Cerise won't wait for more than thirty minutes."

Harry pursed his lips. "What if I had something else in mind?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

With a smirk, Harry tossed him a hairbrush, which Draco caught with Seeker instinct.

"Harry wh--" His eyes widened as he felt the pull of a portkey, the sound of Harry's amused laughter echoing behind him.

He landed with a thud on a balcony. After a crack, Harry appeared next to him, gasping to catch his breath for a moment.

"Potter, what the fuck?"

Harry chuckled. "Surprise! Look around, Draco."

Draco's breath caught as he finally took in his surroundings. They were standing on a balcony in Paris, confirmed by the sight of La Tour Eiffel in the distance. The lights of the city twinkled like stars below them. On the balcony were two chairs and a small table with hot food under a stasis charm. A bottle of wine and two glasses sat ready for them. Draco checked the label and confirmed with a gasp that it was a 1989 Chateau Lafleur.

"Harry, I--" Draco turned around but was startled into silence at the sight of Harry on his knee, a hopeful smile on his face and a small black box in his hand.

Draco's eyes went wide. "What?" He breathed.

Harry bit his lip. "Draco, I'm sorry I don't like whipped cream. I'm sorry I forget to do laundry, and that I dragged you to Sunday dinner. I'm sorry that I worry you sometimes because my job is dangerous. I'm sorry I run late to our dates sometimes.

But I promise to give you the avocado from my sandwich. I promise to try to remember the spells you taught me, and to use my manipulative powers for good and not evil. I promise I'll use better judgment in the field. And I promise I'll try to be on time for our dates.

And I promise to do all of this for as long as I can, as long as you let me. And if you do--if you promise to love me for the rest of our lives--I promise to do the same. Draco Malfoy, will you marry me?"

Draco let out a delighted, euphoric laugh. "Yes, yes of course I'll marry you!"

Harry grinned and rose from his knee to pull Draco into a nearly bruising kiss. When they pulled apart, they pressed their foreheads together and looked as Harry slid the ring, a simple silver band with tiny emeralds, onto Draco's finger.

As they ate dinner, looking out over the city, Harry gave him a cheeky grin. "So, tell me, how'd I do?"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "With tonight? The proposal?"

"Yeah, what'd you think? I hope it made up for me being late. I'm sure you were about ten minutes from breaking up with me," Harry said with a chuckle.

Draco shook his head and smirked. "No, Harry," he raised the glass of wine to his lips. "I'd never do that."

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

[capricorn-stark]

Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn 

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read! 

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of. 

Ever. 

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave. 

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets. 

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you. 

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you. 

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”  

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.” 

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere. 

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.” 

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?” 

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.” 

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.” 

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.” 

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand. 

“And what about it?” 

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama. 

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.” 

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts. 

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.” 

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?” 

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching. 

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little. 

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.” 

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps. 

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea. 

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you. 

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.” 

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually. 

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing. 

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung. 

[rextasywrites]

Aftershow - Leon Kennedy x f!reader

with the help of some tricks and your best friend distracting the security guard, you manage to sneak into the after show of the world premiere of “Resident Evil - Infinite Darkness”. It tells the story of federal Agent Leon S. Kennedy, who, after retiring from his career as a federal agent, decided to tackle acting. Ever since you first saw him in “Resident Evil 2”, you were in love with him and couldn’t wait to meet him. So...what would happen at this afterparty?

hey lads i’m back! i hope you enjoy this piece i have been writing the past few days! hope you are doing well xoxo

Warnings: alcohol, smut, Leon being an ass to others sometimes

Your dress clung to your body, making you feel like some overstuffed sausage. It was physically and mentally out of your comfort zone, but your best friend insisted you looked like a million bucks in it, so you begrudgingly purchased it a week before. “But you look fantastic,” your best friend reassured  you when you stood before your mirror earlier that night, awkwardly, tugging at the fabric by your hipsMaybe she was right, but currently she was busy with the security guard to give you the chance to meet your idol and celebrity crush, Leon S. Kennedy. You had heard he’d attend the premiere, and posts on social media confirmed the rumours.Not that you’d ever admit to subscribing to notifications from him, though.

The place was filled with Hollywood executives, actors, and actresses from all over the planet, yet you hadn’t spotted your favourite so far. Maybe he was outside smoking? Busy spending time with fans and writing autographs? Who knew… So you made your way past some gossiping actress towards the bar. A simple Sex on the Beach would calm your nerves. You began to zone out as you sipped on the cocktail- that is, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“And I thought I had met everyone tonight.”

That voice. That fucking voice. You’d recognize it out of a million, and there he was.

On the barstool next to you sat Leon S. Kennedy, and he was touching you at this very moment.

Before you would answer, you chuckled and took a sip from the cocktail, buying your nerves some more time before you’d answer. “Guess not.”, you said and placed the glass on the bar in front of you. “I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you.”

“I’m Leon, but I’m sure you already knew that, nice to meet you too. (Y/N), what a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Say, how is it possible that I haven’t spotted you before?”

Uh oh. Quick, think of something.

“Sorry, bad traffic,” you replied, directly quoting a line from his costar in Resident Evil 4. “But I’m here now, and just in time to celebrate you and your new show!”, you smiled and raised your glass, Leon clicking it together with his own beer glass. “Cheers.” You two took big sips from your beverages, Leon’s hand now gravitating towards your knee.

“Say, would you like to join me on the terrace? It’s getting so hot in here.”, Leon said and pointed towards an open door on the other side of the room. The mere thought of being able to spend more time with him made you agree with his idea, and a minute later you two were sitting on the terrace in a porch swing. Leon had bought you another drink. He was such a gentleman, just like you’d always imagined him.. From time to time, people came to congratulate Leon on the success of his new show, wanting to invite him for a drink or more rounds. Yet every time he declined it, saying he already had enough for the evening.

*

“You weren’t invited, were you?”, Leon asked after some conversation between you two. You had told him a bit about your life, your work, your pets. In return, Leon shared stories of the making of Infinite Darkness, funny bloopers and behind-the-scenes stories you otherwise would never hear. The party had died out by now, it being late and the night becoming colder. Telling him a lie wasn’t an option, so you sighed and nodded. “Thought so. You carry yourself differently.”, Leon said while he lit himself a cigarette, blowing the smoke into the night sky.

“What do you mean?”, confusion was written across your face. Carrying yourself differently?

“Hollywood wankers carry themselves with a confidence that could kill a mortal like us. They think they are invincible, but oh boy they are wrong. You don’t carry that energy about you. You don’t look the type.. How did you get in?”

“My best friend is buddies with the security guard and he owed her a favour.”

“You little minx.”, Leon laughed, taking another drag as his eyes rested on you, taking in your body in this dress you hated, yet in his eyes you were the most beautiful woman in the sea of botox and silicone tits. “If you promise not to spill the whole night on social media, I can show you a whole new world.”, and by the look in his eyes, you both knew the feeling was mutual

*

The penthouse Leon was renting for his stay in your city was more than just breathtaking. Standing by the front window, you could see the whole city, way beyond the city limits. In the bathroom was, next to a big bathtub, a jacuzzi, and an iced down champagne bucket right next to it. “In Hollywood, money has no meaning. You ever seen Wolf of Wall Street? They weren’t fuckin’ lying when they called money ‘fun coupons’”, he laughed when you first entered the penthouse and your eyes had nearly rolled out. The bedroom alone was bigger than your whole flat, the champagne in that goddamn bucket probably worth more than your rent

“If your eyes get any bigger they’ll fall out of your head!”, Leon laughed as he sat down on the huge sofa, the fireplace warming up the room to a comfortable degree. Yet the dress felt too tight, just ready to be taken off...or was that the alcohol speaking? Leon for the cigar box lying atop the coffee table. He offered you one, but you declined - you didn’t smoke, but the mere view of Leon with a big cigar between his lips, legs spread and dress shirt slightly unbuttoned...it went straight to your core, a view millions of women would kill for, presented in front of you. “Like what you see, little minx?”

“Would it be bad if I didn’t.”, you replied, trying to hide your nerves by being cocky. But Leon wasn’t having any of this. He could see through your mask, trying and failing to hide how badly you wanted to straddle his lap and kiss him senseless, seeing stars and whole new universes. Comes with being an ex cop and agent. No secrets could make it past his eyes.

“Come here”, were Leon’s simple words, yet they had an effect on you and your body, something you'd normally be ashamed to admit. You made your way over to Leon on the sofa and instead of sitting next to him, he patted on his lap. “I want you to be comfortable, and I bet you are the most comfortable on my lap. C’mon, it’s the best seat in the house.”, he smirked and...you couldn’t deny it. His thighs were comfortably big, years of hard training paying off in the form of muscle and rough skin under his suit pants.

You weren’t sure why your head felt like it was spinning - was it the alcohol or the intoxicating smell from Leon? A mixture of his unique scent: whiskey and his cologne, all in a cloud around your nose. You wished you would be able to smell him for the rest of your life. All you knew was that your body screamed for Leon, and his body screamed right back. “Here.”, Leon offered you the glass of scotch he had just poured for himself. “There are three types of liquor. Terrible, not so terrible, or do you want to impress people with your money?”, and with those words, he pressed his lips against yours.

*

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“And yet, here we are.”

*

Leon had picked you up after another glass or three of scotch, the way to his bedroom clear. You weren’t sure if it was the warmth from the scotch swelling in your chest or the way his muscular arms wrapped around you, but something in you was one wrong- or right- move away from melting away completely. Your legs were wrapped around his hips as well as possible. The slit on your dress helped you, but suddenly Leon stopped in his tracks. “Are you okay?”, you asked, placing a hand on his cheek, but he looked over the bedroom you two just entered… Suddenly he placed you back down on the floor, kicking the door shut and pushing you against it.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the bed.”, he smirked , his soft hands moving down your sides, leaving goosebumps wherever they touched you. Your dress felt too tight, the room too hot - you needed to get out of it quickly! Leon watched your blush grow, this asshole smirk still on his lips. “I love how real you are.”, he muttered as he leaned in, brushing his lips over your pulse point, just enough to draw a soft gasp from your lips.

“What do you mean?”, you asked, puzzled. Leon just chuckled, “Haven’t you noticed? It’s all Photoshopped. All the women at the premiere had the same fucking ass. Same crooked lips from the same quack doctor. The same busted Botox faces, everywhere you go. Yet they think they’re hot shit.”, he whispered, hot air against your even hotter skin. “But you...look at you.”

And you did. You looked down on yourself and saw nothing but imperfections. You looked back to Leon with a frown but he just laughed, “Hollywood is suffocating as fuck, but you’re like a breath of fresh air.. Look at you! You even have stretch marks! I haven’t seen real stretch marks since I put my first step into a studio!”, Leon took a deep breath, his voice shaking as he said his next sentence, “And I want you so fucking badly.”

*

Only minutes later, Leon had marked you up, hickeys and little bites of pleasure and need covering your upper body, whatever part he could reach. The dress was long gone and you laid on the bed, watching Leon unbuttoning his dress shirt. Underneath the white fabric was a body riddled with scars and old, badly healed wounds. Each and every single one could tell a story you were ready to hear, but right now, all you wanted was Leon and only Leon. And he needed you too.

“Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”, Leon asked as his hands reached behind you, undoing your bra with a simple movement. This man had disarmed bombs before, of course a bra wouldn’t cause him much trouble. “Look at you…”, he repeated once more once your bra was thrown across the room, landing on some random piece of furniture. You blushed under his hungry eyes, him taking in what would be his in mere minutes. “Spread your legs. I wanna taste you.”

*

You had an iron grip on Leon’s hair, bucking your hips to meet his touch. More, more, more! You needed more! While Leon’s tongue teased your entrance, he used his hand to hold you down, keeping you in place like the good girl that you had been. Well, had been until his tongue first licked up your folds, taking in the sweetness of your juices. Leon had consumed many different liquors in his life, but only your sweet juices could rival ambrosia, sending his drunken mind into another plane of existence.

“Leon!”, you moaned out the moment his calloused finger brushed over your clit. It had been begging for attention, but Leon - that dick - kept on lapping up your juices, sucking and nibbling carefully on your folds. The movements of his fingers were in a steady rhythm with the ones of his tongue, making your head spin once more. He knew how to play you like a fiddle, making you putty in his hands.

But before you could cum, Leon pulled away, his face covered in your sweet fluids and he licked over his lips with an obscene sound and a dirty smirk on his lips. “I can’t wait to fuck you ‘til you scream my name.”

*

The condom was put on quickly. Magnum, of course. What else would a guy like him need? The first stroke inside of you made you see stars for the third time in less than an hour, what an impact this man had on you. Leon was still inside of you, not moving until you were adjusted to his size, especially his girth. “You okay?”, he asked, to which you gave him a soft nod. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. It’s just… fuck, you’re big..”

Leon’s ego beamed at your words, and once you gave him the okay to continue, it was very hard for him to hold back in any way. You were too tight, too sweet, making him nearly burst on the spot. Instead, his mind wandered...but you were always part of those thoughts.

The wet noises of sex, lust, and unadulterated passion filled the room, along with soft panting and groans coming from you two, a noise as old as humankind. Your arms were tightly wrapped around Leon’s body, leaving behind tiny marks when you needed to hold onto him, your nails digging into his skin. Leon hissed at the stings but fuck, knowing you were marking him up too made him even harder, harder than he had ever been.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”, Leon moaned against your neck and buried his head there for a moment. All you could do was nod in agreement, not trusting your voice anymore. Leon reached down at this, pressing his palm between you two, against your clit. You needed this feeling, you were begging for your release.

*

“Come on, cum for me.”, Leon growled when he felt the first contractions around his cock. The needy undertone of his voice was the last thing you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Leon!”, you moaned and came around him, stilling in your movements. Leon rocked his hips a few more times before his own release overcame him, spilling into the condom as you milked him inside of you. It felt too good to be true, but Leon was real.

Once your high started to fade and the contractions lessened, Leon leaned in for a quick kiss, stealing it from your open lips as you tried to catch your breath again. You smiled up to him, loosening your grip around him. “That was great.”, you smiled and Leon dropped next to you after pulling out.

*

In the early morning hours, you woke up to an empty bed. Leon’s side was cold and you sat up, looking around in confusion. Where was he? He wouldn’t leave you alone, would he? Finally, you spotted him on the balcony and you quickly threw on one of the jackets laying around along with your panties.

“Good morning.”, you smiled at Leon, who was taking a drag from his cigarette. He greeted you while blowing the hot smoke out, then held up his arm, offering you a place next to him. You happily agreed, leaning against his warm body in the fresh morning hours.

“I’d love to see you again.”, Leon said after he exhaled another drag, looking down at you. This took you by surprise - why would he? You weren’t special at all, just a mere fan who managed to get into his penthouse suite with a lot of luck and cleavage. He grabbed his phone from the table next to him, offering you the open contact list, “I’d love to take you out on a few dates and such. Spend time with you. What do you think? Wanna give me your number?”

[its-deputy-caleb]

If you're feeling up to writing a bit of Mikey, could I please request him being an asshat to everyone and being told off by his S/O after he asks Jack if he wants to earn a dollar?

(You know the part where he says to ask Arthur about the stick up his butt?)

He's such a dickhead and I find myself telling the screen off when he does it! 😂

OR

His S/O giving him a slap and a bollocking after he kicks Cain, then they fuss over Cain and force Micah to make friends with him.

I dunno, it's up to you 😂 You could write any scenario you want, I'll still love it 😘😘

i am always up to writing for a bit of mikey (that nickname is so cute) but ngl i had no idea how to write this or put this together. I watched the clips again so i could get it accurate but i changed it bc i didn't know if u wanted a happy ending or not but i hope i delivered <33 also u asked for either and i gave u both :)

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

Clemens Point was a strange place with even stranger people. After leaving valentine in a hurry it seems the entire gang was on edge and ready to blow like a stick of dynamite. It seems having to act like upstanding heartfelt citizens to the Grays and the Braithwaites has meant everyone is that aggravated and pent up.

On more than one occasion you’d seen Sadie lose it when Pearson got to pushy with chores and it seems Abigail and John couldn’t stand to have a normal conversation for five minutes before one of them broke. It wasn’t much better with Dutch and Hosea who were constantly disagreeing on the right moves for the gang, although they were much more civil about it.

You did your best to keep out of everyone’s way, to avoid the confrontation but knowing your luck you’d end up getting involved one way or another.

You were returning to camp one sweltering hot afternoon with Sadie after you finished collecting the gang’s weekly stock from the general store. You were only half listening to the hustle around the camp as you were too busy listening to Sadie tell you all about Pearson’s dear aunt Cathy. You stepped off the wagon and headed to the back to start unloading some of the supplies when the sound of Micah’s voice could be heard talking to Jack.

“How’d ya like to earn a dollar?”

His voice with thick with malice as he hunched over the wooden table. In Micah’s hands was a silver nickel that he fiddled with between his fingers, much like you’d seen of him do with his knife. Your eyes found Jack who was almost reluctant to get anywhere near the man who you knew scared him. However, being the innocent child that he was his eyes lit up at the sight of something shiny.

“A dollar? Sure.”

You carried the heavy bag of potatoes over to Pearson’s wagon as you went back for another round of supplies but you kept the boy in the corner of your eye.

“Well…go on up to old Arthur Morgan, ask him about the pole he’s got stuck up his ass and I’ll give ya a dollar.”

Micah’s face lit up in a smirk, his accent thick and his typical evil giggle falling from his mouth. He sat back on the chair, satisfied at the mischief he’s caused.

Before you could get anywhere Jack had run off to where Arthur was sitting in his tent, reading over a letter. You placed another round of ammunition into Strauss’ wagon, dropping it hastily and running as you saw Arthur walk right up to Micah with a murderous look in his eye.

“I’ll give you a dollar if you shut your—“

Arthur didn’t get to finish his insult before you stepped in front of him with a soft hand on his shoulder. You gave him a soft smile and a nod, quietly saying to your dear friend that you’d handle this.

With that you turned with your own look of anger directed to Micah. Everyone knew you loved him but they also knew you didn’t hesitate to call him out and get him to behave when you had to.

“Micah leave the damn boy alone!”

He scoffed like he wasn’t offended you didn’t defend him and instead chose to call him out. Micah’s hands came up in his signal of fake defeat as he slowly backed away from his place at the table, acting as if he was nothing more than the innocent bystander and not the one who nearly ended up on the ground with a broken nose for starting it.

You watched as Micah lingered around the edge of the camp, his eyes trained to yours as he lit a cigarette but you ignored him. Instead you walked over to Jack, smiling softly and taking his hand to lead him to the river’s edge.

“Common, why don’t we go see if we can find any beautiful rock on the sand, hmm? I’m sure your mother would love such a beautiful gift.”

-

Of course, it wasn’t more than a few days later when you ran into trouble again with Micah. You’d spent your time ignoring him mostly, instead choosing to go hunting with Charles and Arthur, practice your throwing knives with Javier and help teach Jack to read. You knew how badly it pissed Micah off to do things without him but he needed to understand that there was a way to treat people, especially with people you considered family.

You rolled up your sleeves, using your forearm to wipe the sweat from your forehead as you picked up the knife and started cutting carrots and potatoes for tonights stew.

“Are you a good boy? Yes you are! The best boy”

Your head came up to notice bill sitting against the log by the campfire, scratching under Cain’s chin and giving the energetic dog pats along the back. You couldn’t help but smile at the new addition to the gang and how happy it made you to see Bill less stressed. It seemed that having Cain made everyone feel more caring and loving.

All except Micah.

“You’re the fool that feed’s him Marion. He ain’t nothing more than a filthy mongrel and an extra mouth to feed.”

Micah had stood from his place on the opposite side of the campfire to antagonise Bill. A frustrated noise leaves you as you slam the knife down on the wooden bench, ready to storm over there and chew Micah’s ear off. You take a step forward only for Miss Grimshaw, who was working next to you, to grab your arm and stop you before you get any further.

“There is a time and a place dear, don’t make it worse.”

Of course you knew Susan was just trying to keep another argument from happening but you push past her when you see Micah inching towards Cain who had left his spot at Bill’s feet to hide by a wagon. In a split second decision you pick the knife you’re cooking with and use it like a throwing knife to get his attention. The knife swings through the air, not getting near anyone, it wasn’t like you actually wanted to stab Micah no matter how badly he could get on your nerves and watched as it got wedged into the tree behind him.

Micah’s head shot up, his foot moving away from Cain and stared dumbfounded and shocked, unused to seeing you so skilfully throw a knife but your practices paid off. You walked right into his personal space, taping your finger against his chest.

“Don’t. You. Dare”

Micah’s first response was to try and sweet-talk his way out of it like he always does but you were in no mood to deal with his slyness.

“Dare to do what sweetheart? Common now… weren’t gonna do nothin—“

Your hand came to give Micah a crisp slap across the cheek, apart of you was shocked that you’d even do such a thing but the other half of you was furious.

“Don’t underestimate for a minute that I won’t dump you right now and throw you out of camp Micah. I’m not some stranger you can sweet-talk when you get in trouble. I swear, if I see you go anywhere near Cain the knife isn’t going to hit the tree next time.”

Micah’s eyebrows shoot up in shock as you lecture him in front of almost the entire gang. Even Dutch put his book down when he heard your slap. He was lost for words, truely, having now other thought as he watched you walk away back to preparing tonights stew. He didn’t move from his place until he heard you whistle for Cain to sit by your feet, where he went and meandered off into the forest to give you space. All he knew was that he must have fucked up bad if you threatened to leave him.

-

A few hours later you’d managed to calm down, watching the sunset after Ms Grimshaw gave you the rest of the night off to relax at how pent up you were. Now sitting here you couldn’t help but feel like you may have over reacted but Micah had pushed your buttons one too many times and if Micah was going to listen to anyone it would be you. You let out a soft but hearty sigh as the tension and stress from your shoulders left with your breath. Your body relaxed against the tree and you watched the sun gently dip below the horizon.

It was well and truely dark before you heard the rustling of grass and the thud of someone sitting next to you. You thought it may have been Arthur coming to check on you but that thought died when arms wrapped around your waist and you felt Micah rest his chin on your shoulder, his stringy hair tickling your face at the gentle breeze.

“…M’ sorry…”

A very quiet and forced apology was pulled from Micah as he cuddled into you, mumbling it into your shoulder at the pain of actually having to apologise.

“Sorry won’t cut it Micah. You have to stop treating people that I care about— people that are family better.”

Micah sighs, the defeated, tired one that shows he’s willing to listen because no matter how badly he stirs up trouble, the thought of losing you is enough to have him turn his mind around.

“I know…gonna make it up to ya I promise.”

A soft and very cautious kiss is placed on your shoulder with Micah knowing he’s still not forgiven by you yet.

“You’re damn well gonna make it up to me. Firstly you’re apologising to Jack first thing tomorrow and secondly you need to pull your weight for this gang— and no I’m not talking about robbing another coach. To start you can sit on guard duty with me and you can wash my clothes.”

“I’ll just buy you new clothes”

You give Micah a death glare as you tilt your head to look at him. Instantly his teasing smirk leaves and his arms come to wrap tighter around your body, resting his hands on your stomach and intertwining your fingers.

“Alright, alright… guard duty ain’t so bad.”

You sit together for a while in a comfortable silence. All the energy from today had left you and you no longer had it in you to keep arguing. You’d hold Micah to his promise to do better but for now you leant back into his embrace and rested your head against his.

“Can I at least sleep in the tent tonight?”

You smiled softly as you hummed in contemplation just to tease him. Micah hadn’t come to sleep in your shared tent since the day he messed with Jack and both of you had missed each other despite the frustration and anger you had.

“Hmm, we’ll see.”

Micah thinks you’ve said no, panicking internally but is stopped when you turn your head and place a soft kiss to his cheek over the mark from where you’d slapped him not so long ago. It wasn’t the kiss that he wanted but he still needed to make it up to you before you gave him what he wanted.

You reached a soft hand up behind you, cradling his head and rubbing your thumb over his sore cheek.

“Is your cheek okay?”

Micah let out a gravelly noise, deep from his chest as he leaned into your hand.

“Ain’t gotta worry sweetheart, I’ve survived much worse”

You don’t get to reply when a tentative and cautious Cain makes his way over to the two of you. You pat your leg and he curls up beside you with his head resting on your leg and his tail thumbing, relaxed and happy.

Micah on the other hand was not relaxed or happy as he tensed up and moved away from the dog and you. If it wasn’t for your hand holding the back of his head he probably would’ve jumped away.

“Micah Cain isn’t going to hurt you, he just wants attention like you. See? No need to be afraid.”

To prove your point you reach a hand out and gently brush over his short, grey fur, watching as he perks up.

“I ain’t afraid!”

You would’ve believed him if you didn’t catch the waver in his voice but you knew. You knew after seeing him be spooked by the animal more than once around camp.

The hand that was still intertwined with his gently guided his hand pat Cain, letting him slowly get comfortable to him.

It took some time but finally Micah had gotten used to Cain enough to realise he was clearly not a threat. At some point Cain had moved over to Micah’s side, resting beside him as the night became later.

A yawn left you and you slowly sank into Micah’s embrace, your eyelids falling shut as you dozed, clearly exhausted.

Holding Micah to his promise was a job for tomorrow, but for now you let yourself fall asleep in his arms, the tent be damned.