#Bitch come here and do that in front of me. I double dog dare you. I may only be 5’5�� but I fight dirty and I’m angrier than you

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

JoJo Siwa doesn’t deserve all the hate (and homophobia) she’s getting for her style and music; but she does deserve scrutiny for defending Colleen Ballinger and being both active and complicit in abuse that happened on her TV show. Like the girl has been under the public eye in unhealthy environments all her life; cut her some slack — not too much; she’s still a responsible adult — but if you’re going to dogpile her, then at least dogpile her for the right reasons. Jesus Fucking Christ.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Steve having to bail Bucky and reader out of a very simple mission wherein they both got slightly too egotistical for their own good.

“How did you even wind up in this situation?”

“Let’s just say there was a lot of double-dog daring.”

Bailed Out » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America

Summary: Steve bails you and Bucky out of jail.

Warnings: Fluff, little bit of Angst, language, jail, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also I thought it would be interesting to add a gif of Steve too🥰

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found them on Pinterest.

“I’m here to bail out James Barnes and Y/N Y/L/N.” Steve says to the officer behind the desk.

“One moment.” The officer says.

The officer stood up from the desk chair and went to the holding cell you and Bucky are in. He unlocked the cell door and opened it.

“Barnes, Y/L/N, you two made bail.” He says.

You two walked out of the cell and followed the officer to the main lobby of the police station. Steve was standing there with his hands on his hip and stared at you guys like he’s a dad bailing his teenage son and daughter out of jail. You and Bucky followed Steve out to the car without saying a word.

“I call dibs on the front seat!” You say, racing to the car and put your hands on the handle of the passenger’s side door.

“You can’t just call dibs on it!” Bucky says, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Yes I can!” You say.

Steve sighed loudly, already tried of the two of you bricking over who gets to sit in the front seat.

“Just shut the hell up and get in the car!” Steve shouts, making you guys go quiet.

You got in the front seat and Bucky got in the back seat without saying a word. You two know it’s serious when Steve yells. He hardly ever yells. The whole car ride to the compound was silent. You and Bucky didn’t dare say a word. When the three of you got to the compound, you and Bucky were going your separate ways, but Steve stopped you guys in your tracks.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” Steve asks.

“To the lounge room.” You say.

“To the gym.” Bucky says.

“No you’re not.” He said. “Conference room now.” He orders in his Captain voice.

You and Bucky were about to protest against it, but you two knew Steve didn’t want to repeat himself. You two went to the conference room with Steve following behind you guys. You and Bucky sat next to each other at the table while Steve sat on the opposite side of the table.

“You two were supposed to be on a very simple mission. What happened?” Steve asks.

“I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. Y/N was the one you wasn’t listening to the orders she was given.” Bucky says, tattling on you.

“That is not true and you know it!” You say.

“I was following the orders I was given. You were the one starting shit with those people.” He says.

“It’s not my fault they started shit!” You rose your voice at him. “I was just defending myself.” You say.

“Defending yourself doesn’t include breaking someone’s nose.” He says.

“That bitch had it coming. She punched me first.” You say.

Steve sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to you guys continue to argue.

“Enough!” Steve shouted, getting you two to shut up. “I don’t care who started it. I just want to know why you guys got arrested.” He says.

“Someone called the cops on us.” You say, being a smartass.

“I’m being serious, Y/N.” He says in all seriousness.

“A fight broke out and I was trying to help Y/N. I guess someone seen or heard what was going on and called the cops.” Bucky explains. “The other people were arrested too.” He says.

Steve sighs again and rubs his hands over his face, trying to figure out a way to punish you guys.

“As much as I hate to say this, but you two are suspended for the rest of the week.” He says.

“Does that mean we can’t go on the mission on Thursday?” Bucky asks.

“Nope.” Steve answers. “Sam and Natasha are going to be filling in for you guys.” He says.

“That’s bullshit!” You stated.

“I can make the suspension longer if you want.” He says.

“No we don’t want that.” Bucky said. “Right, doll?” He says, elbowing your arm.

“Right.” You mumbled loud enough for them to hear.

“Good.” Steve stood up from his chair. “You two are dismissed.” He says, opening the door.

You and Bucky walked out of the conference room in silence and went your separate ways. You were laying on your bed, thinking about your actions. Now that you think about it, you didn’t follow the orders you were given. You felt bad cause Bucky got arrested and suspended with you. You got out of bed and went to Bucky’s bedroom, which is next door to yours. You knocked on his bedroom door and patiently waited for him to open it.

“What do you want?” Bucky asks after opening the door.

“Can we talk please?” You asked.

Bucky stared at you for a few silent seconds before stepping aside to allow you to walk inside of his room.

“What do you want to talk about?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I just want to apologize for everything that happened earlier.” You started. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to get out of control like that. I take full responsibility for my actions. I’ll try my best to listen to the orders I’m given next time.” You say apologetically.

“It’s ok.” He accepts your apology. “If the roles were reversed, I probably would’ve done the same thing.” He says.

“Hug on it?��� You asked, opening your arms for a hug.

Bucky smiles before pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I’m also sorry for getting you arrested and suspended.” You apologized again, looking up at him.

“It’s ok, doll.” He almost whispers. “I forgive you.” He says, kissing your forehead.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

[honeyhotteok]

nocturnal (johan seong x reader)

details: cw violence, gender neutral reader, strangers to maybe a little something more

summary: two unlikely strangers cross paths in the nighttime.

-

You stare at the clock up on the wall, waiting for its display to turn from 1:59 am to...2:00 am, finally. Freedom at last.

You get ready to clock out of your shift and walk over to the door to flip the sign to Closed, when you see a weird boy with his two dogs standing there, glaring in at the food display. He notices you noticing him and darts his eyes away.

You were used to the occasional weirdo coming by, a given since you started working the late night shift at the convenience store. You had to pay for tuition and rent somehow, and this gig was the only one you could land that would fit your schedule.

You slowly open the glass door with your eyes narrowing at him. “Uh, can I...help you with something?”

“No. You’re closed now anyway.”

You notice him glancing over at the food display again. You walk over to the shelf and grab a cake roll. You take his hand and shove the roll into his hands.

“There. On the house. Now if you don’t mind, I’m closing up.” You close the door on his stunned face.

You count the cash in the register and wrap up inside the store. When you step outside, the weirdo is no longer there. You wait at the bus stop alone, anxious for the bus to come already so you can be back in the safety of your own apartment at this hour.

Once you board, you sit down in an empty window seat. You rest your head on the window in hopes that every bump in the road the bus lurches over vibrating into your cranium will keep you awake until your stop. You suppress the loneliness that always creeps in at this hour, and instead wonder about the strange pretty boy you saw tonight while you watch the empty streets of Gangbuk pass you by.

--

Your elbows dig into the countertop as you look over your lecture notes illuminated by the florescent lighting overhead. It had been another long day of boring law lectures, studying a major you chose solely to appease your parents. And here you were, working again instead of partying the stress away with the rest of your classmates. You sigh as you glance out the window, and you do a double take. There he is again tonight.

The store chimes sound as you step out. “Hey, weirdo.”

“Weirdo...” he mumbles, as if pondering if he should take offense at this new unsolicited nickname from you.

A white dog emerges from behind his legs and immediately starts running circles around you while barking happily, tail wagging.

“Hey buddy,” you laugh as you squat down to pat his head.

Johan can’t do anything but stare as Eden, his extremely shy dog with the tendency of fully trembling around strangers, treats you like an old friend.

--

It’s 12:30 am and you once again spot outside the window the brunette in his usual all-black outfit.

You walk over to the plastic fold-up table he’s sitting at and slide a cream bun over to him.

“Why do you keep giving me food? You know I can’t pay you back, right?” He mutters.

“It’s expiring tomorrow so I was gonna have to throw it out by the end of my shift anyway. Store policy or whatever,” you shrug.

He stares at the bun for a moment while processing your unexpected answer. “Thanks,” he finally mumbles, but you’ve already headed back into the store.

--

Johan sits in one of the lime green plastic chairs outside the store with his headphones on. He notices a trio of teenage delinquents stroll up in front. Johan pulls one ear cup of his headphones behind his ear, staying on alert. The apparent leader of the group snickers, pointing at you from outside.

“Look at that bitch working the register all by theirself. Hey, I dare you to...” he leans over to whisper in one of his lackeys’ ear, followed by shoves and cackling amongst each other.

Meanwhile, you’re standing inside at the cash register with your head buried in your constitutional law textbook and your earphones in, completely oblivious to your surroundings.

Johan silently steps right in front of them before they can enter the store.

The leader scoffs. “Hey, fuckface. Get the fuck out of my way if you value your li-”

Before he can finish his sentence, Johan delivers a swift axe kick to his head. The guy’s other two lackeys cuss and charge at Johan, but he dodges one of them with ease before listlessly elbow striking both of them in the face, one after the other. The leader’s legs wobble as he tries to get back on his feet and he throws his shoulder back to hit Johan, only to be met with Johan’s forearms clinching his head and bringing his knee to his face.

“Now get the fuck out of here. If I see you around here again, next time I’ll actually kill you,” Johan snarls.

The two of them each grab one of their leader’s arms and carry his battered body out of sight.

A few minutes later, you step out of the store holding a triangle gimbap and toss it to Johan.

You give him an awkward but endearing smile and walk back into the store without a word. He looks down at the gimbap and starts peeling off the plastic. A post-fight snack, huh. He could get used to this.

--

You clock out of your shift and notice him waiting outside.

“Oh, you’re still here?”

He nods and shoves his hands into his pockets.

You face him to say good night before heading to the bus stop, but he stops you.

“I wanted to show you something.”

-

The two of you stand on the rooftop of the building overlooking everything north of the Han River.

“Is this your turf or something?” You quip.

“Was. Something like that.”

You rest your arms on the guardrail and take in the view of the residential buildings and skyscrapers sprawled out before you in the night, each one sparsely dabbed with small squares of light.

He turns to you and he sees the night breeze brushing your hair back with its fingertips, reflections of navy light twinkling in your eyes. And for the first time in a long time, he can feel a warm light switch on inside of him. You and Johan gaze at the skyline, both of you thinking maybe you’ve found someone who makes this city feel a little less lonely.

[thatswhatyoucall--adream]

Day 4 of posting WIPs! Here is a super old one I’ve been toying with starting again. Not a fanfiction, though.

It was late when Carmen pushed the door of the parlor open, the neon sign on the door had long been turned off; even though there were still a few customers who were there getting whatever it was finished off, cleaned and wrapped. She smiled at the flame haired female at the counter who stood up and walked around to give her a hug. 

“Never actually thought that the mighty Carmen Finch would take me up on my offer.” the girl smiled, her cheek piercings all but vanishing into the dimples they left behind. There was no malice behind her statement, merely just a touch of sarcasm to cover up the genuine surprise there. Truth be told, Carmen never really thought she would end up in this tattoo parlour at nearly three AM but here she was. The bi-product of too much tequila and a really long heart to heart with the girl in front of her had resulted in the artist drawing her up a tattoo and double dog daring her to get it done. 

Pain never bothered her, not really. Carmen just never voluntarily put herself into situations wherein she got herself hurt or anything at all like that. Well, physically, anyway. She didn’t even have her ears pierced for the love of God.  The thought of someone coming anywhere near her with a needle intent to cause and not cure pain made her skin crawl and her blood run cold, but what Emily had said had been bothering her for weeks. Maybe getting them out from under her skin really did come from getting them onto her skin. 

Emily Mears was a long time friend of Carmen’s, they’d attended the same middle and high schools and even roomed together at college. Now, Emily had her own business and Carmen was knee deep in her father’s, and sinking fast. Carmen shrugged, “Never thought I would be here, but ever since you finished up that sketch and had the damn thing sent to my apartment, I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it.” It was the truth, too. She’d never once considered a tattoo until she couldn’t stop peeking at the sketch every other day. Couldn’t stop imagining how the smokey lines and splashes of red would be in stark contrast to her alabaster skin. She wanted to do it to piss her dad off, to show him that she wasn’t a pawn in his chess game, but she also wanted to do it to prove that she could. Prove that something beautiful could come from hours of pain. That she could put herself through that and come out the other side swinging.  That, and she never backed down from a dare. 

She knew it was downright insane, but after the events of the past few weeks she was done with feeling like a fragile flower and having to be protected. Carmen was ready to face this all on her own. She was ready to stand up and be counted in a the man’s world she had been raised in. The thing was, though, she wasn’t sure she wanted the trappings and trimmings that came with being made in this business. 

“Coffee?” Emily’s soft voice broke through the haze in Carmen’s skull and the buzzing that was surrounding them as another artist finished off a tattoo. Carmen nodded, blindly following the girl into the back room that was filled with plush furniture and a glass and chrome table and chair set in the corner. The lights came on as they walked into the room, Carmen following after the Petite red head, who babbled on and on about different types of coffee beans and coffee flavours that they had. 

“Just plain black for me.” Carmen finally muttered, it was too early or too late for anything else and all she wanted was for someone to make sense of this mess. “You know, I never thought that I wanted a tattoo, but it’s really growing on me.” She told her friend as she settled into the plush leather sofa and tucked her legs under her. “How sore will it be?” 

Emily smiled down at her friend as she brought over two mugs of coffee and sat beside her. “That depends. Your shoulder blades will hurt like a bitch, your spine too, but the rest of it should be alright.” She gave a small shrug of her tattooed shoulder before smiling at the girl. “It’s a physical pain you can do something with, though.” Emily’s voice was soft again, as though she was ready for Carmen to bolt any second. “We can make it smaller if you wanted, though. Four separate tattoos in places with the least pain.” It was an offer of an out and Carmen knew she should take it.

“No.” She heard herself say. Her voice sounding strong and confident and nothing at all like hers. “I want it between my shoulder blades. As we discussed.” “You were drunk.”

“And?” 

“We don’t have to do this. I take back the dare.” 

Carmen shook her head vehemently. “No, we’re doing this. I’m here.” 

“I can’t do it all in one go tonight. I can do the outline but the shading and the colour and a other things will have to be done tomorrow or whenever you decide to come back.” Emily shrugged her shoulders, looking down into the cup. “It’s not something I want you to regret.” 

“I won’t. I trust you to give me something incredible, Ems.” She smiled brightly, the noise in her head fading until there was a quiet that rivalled the shop. “You do have a copy of the sketch here, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I have the transfer ready, but Carmen, it’s sore. It’s a huge piece and it’ll be your first. At least let me give you something smaller to begin with so that you know the pain involved and what it’s like. I can’t leave you with an unfinished tattoo.” Emily shook her head again and got up, setting her cup on the table and heading towards the chrome table, grabbing her sketch book. She settled on the sofa again and opened the sketch pad, looking up at her friend. “Inner wrist. Something Simple.”

[anythingwriter]

Badassery

Thomas Shelby x reader

Warnings: language, Oswald Mosley, teeny tiny bit of sexual assault, implied smut if you squint, small bit of angst

Word count: 1,988 of pure trash:)

Requested by: anonymous 🐆

Summary: At one of Tommy’s famous parties, he sees his wife being hit on by the one and only Oswald Mosley. On his way to save her he stops in his tracks, shocked by how she handled things.

*******************************************************

Y/n Shelby was definitely a force to be reckoned with. While most men and women cleared a path when they saw Tommy coming, they’d clear the whole damn street when they saw her. She was unpredictable and even scarier than Arthur doped up on his snow.

Oh and her looks, she was one of the most beautiful gems Small Heath had ever seen. The men all wanted a taste of her, and the women strived to be her. She knew she was beautiful, and she walked with her head held high in confidence. Most importantly, she knew she could take care of herself. Apparently though, her husband did not.

It was a Friday evening and naturally your husband had decided to throw a party. People from the richest of families were there, wanting to see how the Thomas Shelby lived.

You and Tommy were in the corner conversing amongst yourselves, laughing at the guest and their ridiculous outfits, and Charlie was upstairs with the maids, hopefully asleep by now. Tommy had gone for a normal suit, his ocean eyes standing out against the deep black. You had chosen a beautiful burgundy dress with a daring plunge in the neck, accompanied by a jaw dropping diamond necklace Tommy had given you for your three year anniversary. The dress hugged you perfectly, showing off your best assets. Tommy couldn’t tear his eyes off of you.

“Tommy, look at Mrs.Evans! Sh- she looks like she has a dog wrapped around her neck!” You bent over laughing, having to put a hand on your knee to stop yourself from falling flat out on the floor, almost spilling your wine in the process. Her scarf was obnoxiously large and fluffy, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Tommy looked over as well, and he chuckled at the sight, nowhere near laughing as hard as you. It was safe to say you were a little more on the tipsier side. He reached down his ring clad hand and grabbed your wine, “that’s enough for you love,” and he put it on the passing butlers tray, mumbling a small thanks in the process.

You straightened back out and looked up at Tommy and gave him the biggest puppy eyes you could muster, you were not done with your wine and you wanted it back.

“Bu-“

“No buts darling, you wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of all these people, right?. Maybe wait until it’s just me and you, yeah? Sound good?” You weakly nodded your head to Tommy, knowing there was no way you were going to win this debate.

“Tommy?”

He turned to look at you, “yes darling?”

You stared at him with the best serious face you could possibly offer in your given state, “ You- you said butts!” You doubled back over again laughing your ass off. It truly wasn’t that funny, but you felt like a damn comedian at this point. Tommy gave you one of his famous “bitch, really” faces and walked away from you.

“Tommy! Where are you going? You can’t just leave me here!” He kept walking to the other side of the room, not once turning around to spare you another glance.

“Tommmmyyyyy!” He still didn’t turn around, and you were about to shout again until you saw some guest looking at you. You gave them all a bitter look and they averted their gazes, none of them wishing to die tonight. You frowned in Tommy’s direction before turning around to find someone you knew to talk too. You spotted Polly in the distance and headed her way.

“Ahhh Mrs.Shelby, lovely to see you this evening.”

You stopped in your tracks at the voice, slowly turning around to meet the cold eyes of Oswald Mosley. All the wine you had drank that night quickly left your system at the sight of him. Tommy had warned you to stay away from him, he warned you that he had no care about the feelings of women. You knew he was a terrible man.

He reached out with his bare clammy hand and grabbed your glove covered one and brought it up to his lips to give it a kiss, never once breaking eye contact with you.

You cringed on the inside, giving him a charming smile anyway. “Lovely too see you as well, Mr.Mosley.”

He looked you up and down, “might I just say dear, you look rather… ravishing tonight,” as the last word left his mouth he allowed his eyes to stop and stare at your breast. You pulled back at this, hating yourself for choosing such a daring dress. “Thank you, sir. I do believe I should go find my husband though, I’m sure he’s looking for me, have a good night Mr.Mosley.”

As you were walking around him to follow the way Tommy had left you moments prior, Oswald latched his hand onto your wrist, pulling you back towards him.

“Actually y/n, I ran into him for a brief conversation before I came to see you, and I can promise he seems quite busy with Mr.Solomons at the moment.” He gave you a sinister smile, still not letting go of your wrist.

You tried to pull back your hand but he only gripped it tighter, your wrist began to throb at this point.

“Mr.Mosley,” your teeth were clenched and you were sure your face was red, “I would actually love to go say hello to Mr.Solomons. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Alfie.” And with one final tug, your wrist slipped from his hold, but he was having none of that. He quickly grabbed you by your hips and pulled you flush to his chest, you could smell the alcohol and cheap cologne coming from him. For being so confident in himself he sure smelt like a piece of shit.

He squeezed your hips too tight for comfort and forced a smile towards you.

“It seems to me, Mrs.Shelby,” squeeze “that you are trying to get away from me. Do you not enjoy my company?” His dark brown eyes were boring into your e/c eyes.

You felt disgusted, who did this man think he was?

You glared at him, you gathered every ounce of anger and disgust you could and pushed it all behind your eyes.

“Mr.Mosley, I suggest you take your hands off of me right now, I don’t believe my husband would be too happy. He doesn’t like sharing.” You were furious, spitting out every word through your clenched teeth.

He scoffed, “your husband? Wouldn’t you like to see what a real man is like?” He still held your hips, and he slowly but forcefully pushed his hips up against yours.

*******************************************************

Across the room, Tommy was looking for you while he listened to Alfie speak. His blood boiled at the sight he found.

“So you see Tommy I-“

“Shut up Alfie.”

Alfie gazed over at Tommy incredulously, his cane stuck in midair from his rambling.

“Ex-fucking-cuse me Thomas?”

Tommy didn’t have time for Alfies games and pointed his cigarette in your direction. He followed Tommy’s hand and widened at the sight. There was no mistaking the disgusting excuse of a man and the beautiful woman Tommy was oh so lucky to call his.

Alfie had met you a couple of times, and although you were one scary bitch, he knew you were kind hearted behind your exterior. Even though you weren’t his he felt rage bubbling inside. He could see the discomfort on your face, he could only imagine what Tommy was thinking.

“Yeah, if I were you lad, I think I would go over and put a bullet in between the wops eyes, yeah.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more Alfie.” And with that Tommy was marching his way across the room to save his wife. When he was halfway across the room with determination on his face, he almost tripped over his own feet. The sight in front of him was not one he was expecting to see.

*******************************************************

Mosley pushed his hips up towards yours, and disgustingly enough you could feel everything through his pants. You could feel bile rising in your throat. You looked over his shoulder and saw Tommy on his way over with figurative steam coming out of his ears.

To hell with Tommy, he was the one that left you in the first place. You didn’t need his help, you were anything but a damsel in distress.

With that you brought your knee up to Mosley’s groin, a satisfactory smile on your face hearing him moan in pain.

When he doubled over in pain you didn’t hesitate before beating on the man.

“I-,” punch “said get-,” punch “off of-,” punch “ME!” kick.

Breathing heavily standing over the bloodied mans body, your senses began to come back to you. The band Tommy had hired stopped playing, everyone had stopped dancing, looking at you with bewilderment on their faces. You could hear Mosley struggling for air beneath you, and Tommy, well he was completely frozen in his spot, his jaw hanging open and he felt something stir inside of him.

You looked around, wiping off the dirt and blood on your hands and snapped at everybody staring at you, “shows over fuckers!” Everyone resumed what they were doing.

Tommy stormed over to you and for a second you thought he was going to shout. His brows were furrowed and he had a scowl on his face. When he was finally standing in front of you, you ducked your head waiting for the scolding.

You let out a surprised sound of shock when Tommy grabbed your face between both his hands and pressed his lips to yours. It was messy and uncoordinated, but neither of you cared.

Recovering from your moment of shock you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing back with just as much neediness. Tommy moved his hands down your back and grabbed your ass, emitting a moan from you and he slipped his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste of wine and cigarettes.

When he pulled back for air he stared into your eyes, keeping his hand on your ass.

“That-,” he took a deep breath, “was the hottest thing I have ever seen.” He pulled your hips closer to his, and you could feel him hardening against you.

You smirked up at Tommy, laughing before running your hand down his chest. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

His eyes darkened, when he opened his mouth to speak again he was interrupted by a very impressed gangster.

“Y/n! Darling!,” Alfie came running over as fast as he could with his leg, swinging his cane all over the place in excitement, almost pulling off Mrs.Evans scarf in the process, “that was amazing! Tell me, how did you do it?”

You gave an innocent smile in the mans direction, still wrapped in Tommy’s arms, “it’s called badassery Alfie, I could teach you if you want?”

Tommy let out a loud laugh at that, letting go of your ass to pull you to his side by your waist and gave Alfie an award winning Thomas Shelby smile.

Alfie looked at you for a moment before laughing himself.

“You gotta’ keeper here Tom, don’t let her go or I’ll snatch her up myself.”

Tommy glared at Alfie and turned his attention to you smiling, “Trust me Alf, I’m never letting this one go.”

And with that Tommy dragged you upstairs into your shared room, showing you how hot he thought it truly was, and awarding you a job well done.

*******************************************************

a/n: I hope you like it honey! I’m not sure I liked the ending though, but I hope y’all do!!❤️❤️

Also! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Have a good day darlins!🥰

@shadowfoxey @nothingleftthaticando

[artemuerto]

Shelby Household Manor

Pairing: Thomas Shelby/Male Reader

Trigger Warning: Intent of Kidnappin, Someone gets shot, Charlis is an Angel, Tommy is still Soft.

Author Notes: The begining scene is the reason why i even started writing part two, but after i finish it, i didn't feel like ending the whole story with such a bloody end and a bad punch line, so instead i made a bonus chapther for this story that seemed to grow by its own.  @sallyjacksontheweirdauthor you said, you would like to read more about the Shelby House.

Part One

Part Two

Read on AO3

Bonus

The Master

—5—

There was blood on the carpet.

There was. So. Much. Blood.

Everywhere. Everywhere he looked, he could see the vicious, sticky colour blooming around the house, the walls; there was a trail of crimson red following his steps combined with shattered glass in a path of destruction, the servant soundlessly walked, relentless, non-stopping and with only one goal in mind until he stood cold in the middle of the empty office, half seated on top of the desk while embracing a silent Charlie who refused to let him go as his tiny fists had an iron grip on his clothes.

He has never seen hell but after a night like the one they just had, the young boy had an idea, a though that maybe this was what hell looked like. Aching limbs, dry throat and broken lips, torn muscles for the continue used and a rising mind with no time for a break, for fresh air and calmness. The servant boy had only one goal in mind and with all his might he would achieved it.

The boy was able to hear the voices approaching. Loud and clear they came as the doors opened up letting through a couple of people he didn’t know, although, by the likes of it seemed as the newcomers were part of the Peaky Blinders, if he had to judge their appearances.

A double pair of eyes set on the shivering boy and started to scream at him once they recognized the quiet shape of Charlie resting in his arms.

“We found him!” One of the boys shouted at whoever was standing by the hall. However, no sense of security it came from the view, he didn’t recognize any of the faces coming toward him. “Boy—” it was cleared by now that those men didn’t knew him either and so did not trust him with having Charlie in his grasp. “You betta give me the child.” Their words were thick with hatred that the boy was not used to hear, no less in his place of work such as the Shelby Household Manor where he got accustomed to listen to Charlie’s laugh at any time of the day.

The boy was about to move when a still frighten Charlie hugged him harder and so in his need to comfort the child, the servant retracted shielding the youngest Shelby from the strangers.

“Listen ‘ere you motherfuck’r…” the Peaky boys started to close onto the servant, trapping him into the desk and by doing so sending Charlie into a frenzy of whips that sent shivers down their spines. The mere thought of their boss finding his son crying was absolute not pleasing even when the man was no way around. “Give me the child.” The tread was made and gun soon followed.

Something broke within him. Who could aim to a baby?

The servant hugged Charlie hiding the child’s face to his neck and yelled.

“Stay away from me!” The adrenaline flooding through his body was burning and busting, his sense of fight or flight was back even when his brain told him it was safe to stay with the Peaky Blinders. They were looking for Charlie after all, they would bring Charlie to his father, the servant knew that, the servant wanted to believe that; but it was, in fact, that belief that led them all to that faithful night of horrors. Someone had passed off as a Peaky boy and tried to Charlie away while his father was gone.

So, no. The young boy could not trust those man. He would not trust those man. He would fight with nails and teeth to protect Charlie until mister Shelby came for the boy.

“LISTEN YOU LIL BITCH—” The obvious threat was forgotten as the servant shot the gun he had in his trembling hand at the unknown gang member. The noise itself was enough to stir something dark and scary. He failed, the young boy was by no means good with guns, he didn’t even have a good aim when playing ball with Charles, but his message was known. If any of them came close to Charlie, they would get a bullet. The Peaky boys were not expecting such a harsh reaction, it was only a scrawny boy, bit tall for his age, with marks and bruises all over his face and disheveled clothes. What harm could the lonely boy do?

Now, they knew.

Nobody moved and Charlie had time to calm down when Arthur came in bursting into the door, his voice loud and clear with orders.

“What the fuck in going on here?” He had heard the gunshot and ran as fast as he could, fearing the worst, when a sheer of light crossed his features. Arthur recognized the darken face that was staring at him in fear and horror. Arthur knew that boy, he knew this servant.

Arthur said his name with a sweet gentleness unknown to others and ordered for the rest of the boys to lower their guns in a silent gesture.

“C’mon now, boy. You know me.” The servant was still tilting the gun at the newcomers before realizing who was talking to him. It was one of the Shelby brothers. It was one of his master’s brothers, the servant knew he could trust this man with his life such as Mister Shelby did.

“Arthur, sir.” The hint of formality even after such a hectic night and moments made Arthur laugh against his best judgement.

“Yes, boy. It’s me.” Arthur smiled looking at the servant boy while relaxing his shoulders. “Good ol’ Arthur.” The young one wanted to smile in return when Charlie turned in his arms and called for his father.

“Sir—” His frighten demeanor and worry was obvious even for the usual clueless Arthur. “Mister Shelby…” The boy didn’t need to finish his request when the oldest Shelby let him know that Tommy was on his way.

It’s alright, Charlie. It’s alright, baby. You’re ok now. You’re all good. He had said to the crying boy as he ran for their lives escaping whoever was after them. The young servant was out doing his usual runs around the manor, locking doors and checking windows when he found an open window thanks to the waving curtains that moved by the tune of the summer wind. Closing it, double checking and turning off the lights, he left and while he was about to go upstairs, he spotted an obscure figure holding a struggling Charlie. Charlie was meant to be put to sleep long hours ago, and Anna had bed him good night respectfully, so that raised a bunch of questions, starting with: Where was Anna?

Anna rested lifeless by a man’s feet.

He had run to Charlie with unknown force to himself, pure panic flood through him while imagining the worst, Charlie called for him and he knew then he wouldn’t trust that man.

Now, still standing in Mr. Shelby’s office with a nervous Arthur trying to calm him down and putting the rest of the boys to a hold while waiting for Tom.

“Tommy’s coming, Charlie.” Arthur reassured his nephew and he could see how the boy calmed after hearing about his father. Soon, shouts were heard. The distinguished voice of one and only Thomas Shelby was hard to miss, the man cried for his baby boy bearing his gun at anyone who dare to cross path with him.

“You hear that, Charlie?” The young one spoke with a tired, raspy voice catching the baby’s attention. “That’s daddy. Daddy’s coming to get you.”

The have both hid in one of the rooms. The servant fought the intruder with a fearless conviction, his need to save the youngest of the family was deep in his bones surpassing his non-existent skills or his lack of knowledge. With angry fists and sharp nails, he hit the man and scratch his face, kicked him between the legs just how mister Shelby had taught him once as he begged for Charlie to go, to hide away but the stubborn boy stood close by crying for him until the kidnapper seemed unconscious enough so they could leave together.

Charlie had whimpered against his clothes and when he went to hug the boy, he realized he was covered in blood. Not his blood, but still. Anna’s blood. The man had shot her after she had tried to elude him and by doing so saving Charlie from getting hurt, dropping him to the floor. The servant took his vest off staying in his shirt only and cleaned Charlie’s face from all trail of heaviness.

“I want daddy.” Charlie had said to him before they tried and looked for a way out. The servant could hear voices looking for them, it seemed someone had planned to attack the house while the head of the family was out doing business for the night. Tommy had left with a short smile and a warm touch Charlie still remembered, his father had promised to spent time with him on the weekend after a long week of work and he was looking forward to it. Charlie had been practicing his violin lessons by playing in front of the servants and other people in the house.

They all compliment him and Charlie only hoped his father would also like it. He had practiced hard all week until the tip of his fingers hurt.

The boy looked at the Shelby child and promised him, they would see his father. He would do everything in his power and would not stop until Charlie was with his father again.

“Don’t worry, Charlie. Daddy’s gonna come for you. Daddy will always come for you.” Little did the boy know, Tommy would search for them both in an equal fiercely need. “You’ll see daddy soon.”

Also, the young one didn’t know how close they would be to find the head of the family.

After hiding in mister Shelby’s office, the boy took the gun he knew Thomas kept in his desk and waited. The voices were long gone as guns were fired, screams and sheers of pain were heard, and an eerie calmness took over. A stillness proper of disaster was approaching and somehow he feared the worst, but what they got were waves of another Peaky Blinders lookalike right before Arthur showed up.

Arthur kept to himself imitating a guardian dog as the young servant whispered to Charlie in anticipation to meeting his father once again, the child held the comforting body of the servant before shrugging at the sound of the door bursting one more time.

Mister Shelby was a mess, to say the least, long forgotten was his pristine suit. The jacket was lost and even when his shirt was still bottom up, it was all wrinkled, the shoulder holster was visible, the shiny straps wide in the open and while his gun was still warm in his hand, the young one couldn’t help but shield Charlie’s view to the bath of blood that was his father, even for a little. Tommy was covered in blood. Both his shoulders were splashed as well as his chest. But what shocked him was mister Shelby’s face.

Thomas’ high cheeks were covered almost completely, barely any spots were left untouched; his forehead had a big stain right in the middle with moving lines that painted him as he walked and moved, the young one didn’t even fathom to imagine how mister Shelby could have gotten blood in his ears and so his lips. His piercing steel blue eyes and his red right hand supporting his warm gun was truly a sight to behold. His expression was wild and non-centered, Thomas was loosing his mind at the thought of loosing his baby boy, the only truthful memory and gift from his long lost wife. So, of course, he had butchered every single one of the people behind that disastrous plan and sent Arthur back to the manor after a tortured man told the true and how the original idea was to take Charlie from his bed that night. Only they hadn’t count with a feisty little thing who fought for Charlie with his life.

Seeing Charlie after being lost in sorrows for so long was like a waterfall of happiness had bath him in peace. His baby boy seemed held together and in one piece, sheltered between protective arms that refuse to leave him alone even after Tom was in the room.

Thomas stood near the door, he could see and hear how the fearful boy whispered to his baby trying to calm him and easily managed to do so. Charlie trusted the boy holding him and so Tommy’s heart was set. Mister Shelby gave Arthur his gun and walked pass him reaching for his son, only to be shock by a sense of cold surprise as the servant dodge him in terror. Tommy felt denied, he felt rejected and almost screamed in need to hold his son and take it away from any harm but soon understood that his baby was in no danger as Charlie melted in the boy’s embrace.

The young one kept whispering slowly not really realizing mister Shelby was in the room, his brain was high-wired in horror, and the only reason he was still in place was because he knew Arthur was close by and the man wouldn’t let anything happen to them. Tommy cleaned his hands and half kneeled trying to relax, showing the boy he had nothing to be scared for; tilting his head to a side, Tommy called the boy by his name like so little times he had done in the past.

The ring of his name awaken him from his lethargic stupor and in his eyes was clear the surprise to be so close to his master. The servant boy straightened his back and met his master eyes with a pinch of uneasiness, as if fearing he had failed mister Shelby and so, the man would be mad in any way. Thou, he had.  He had failed to keep the house safe even with the non-spoken protection of the Peaky Blinders, enemies had managed to enter the house and were almost successful in taking Charlie away from them, away from his family. He had failed Tommy and Charlie almost suffered from it. The boy was about to cry.

Tommy could see the boy’s distress even for moments he thought it was caused by something else. His house was a disaster, chaos and violence was a path he knew very well but had worked so damn hard to keep his son apart form and even the ones that lived with him at the manor. Now, he could see he had been sloppy, Tommy thought by now people would not try and threaten his family, his family name had a price, a status, a terrifying power that only fools would try to break; and there were fools who had tried, he could see it now. Having a couple of Peaky Blinders posting as guards hadn’t been enough for the night and his family had suffered the price for his lack of meticulousness, but no more. He was home now and he would make it all alright.

“Little one…” He called one more time and finally had a reaction from the boy. Tommy could see the boy trembling harder than leaves in winter and with each passing second where he detailed the younger’s appearance, he could see trails of anger, violence and hatred all over his body. His boy lacked his usual clothes and noticed Charlie was missing clothes also, his boy’s hands that still grasped onto Charlie with almost paternal feistiness were splotched with blood being washed away from past struggles. His hair was all over the place but it served a purposed to show him how much his servant had been rough out. His boy had a black eye, cuts all over his face and a nurturing bruise on one of his cheeks, blossoming marks around his neck with a split lip that had stopped bleeding a while back and it only made Tommy ached. Ached for not being there and staying to protect what mattered to him, to keep and safe from harm everything that was important to him. Tommy moved narrowly so after the boy shifted to show his body and his son.

“Mister Shelby…” His voice was low and raspy, missing every little tint of happiness Tommy learnt to love with time. Charlie jumped from his arms to his father with need and shame, the baby started crying; Charlie had been so brave, stood still in silence and seemly unfazed waited for the moment he was reunited with Tom. “They killed her, sir.” The boy mentioned Anna with hollow eyes and Thomas remembered the cold body laying by the stairs lamenting his boys had to be witness of something like that; they had to take care of her family and give a proper burrier. The younger one felt finally at ease and about to give the man a smile he was when his legs failed him after all and almost fell back.

Tommy reached out for him and the boy calmed his nerves by smiling openly with an unknown warmth. That’s it until his senses fully recovered and the realization of his actions hit him harder than a brick. He had shot one of the Peaky Blinders, he had almost killed someone and doesn’t even want to start asking what was about the man he left unconscious in the living room, but yes, he had fired a gun and there was a mark on the floor.  

“Mister Shelby,” the concern was clear as air. There was a gunshot on the floor. And so much blood everywhere. “I’m sorry…” Tommy arched an eyebrow unsure of what would leave his servant’s lips. “There’s blood on the carpets.”

The head of the Shelby family laughed wholeheartedly after so long.

“Sweetheart, you just save my son. I don’t care about the bloody carpets.”

—6—

Tommy played dead. Charlie was resting in his arms as the boy refused to leave his father sight and protective embrace, so the father didn’t want to disrupt his baby’s sleep even when his own mind was thinking, planning and webbing; Charlie curled into his chest and in a mere thought Tommy held him by placing a careful hand on top of his head.

“Daddy,” Charlie still spoke in whispers and low murmurs as in fearing he would be heard and someone would finally come to get him away from home.

“Yes, love?” Tommy kissed his son’s forehead and started at him, letting him know he had his whole attention.

“Can we go?” Where? Tommy wanted to ask but with one look at his son, he knew where the boy longed to be at those moments, even after that long day and tiresome hours, even resting assure in his father’s arms, Charlie still worried for the young boy who kept him safe all this time.

The knock on his door startled him making the boy jump only remaining calm when the known figure of a sleepy Charlie was able to his eyes.

“Charlie? What are you—” his half question wasn’t answer when he saw Tommy going into his room following the steps of his son who had him by the hand. “Mister Shelby!” With a gesture Tommy let him stayed in his sit, half laying on the bed.

The servant didn’t have time to focus on the bizarre feeling that was having his boss in his room when Charlie asked if they could sleep with him that night. “You, what?” Tommy hid an amuse smirk and let Charlie asked for what he wanted that moment.

“Can we sleep here tonight?” The boy was so confused as to why the poor boy wanted to be with him at those hours, he had his father after all, why go for him? “I’m scared someone will take you away.” Charlie confessed after a while and the young servant felt his heart breaking; Charlie had lost so much already; he didn’t want for more people to leave his life.

“It’s alright, love. You can stay here.” Unknown to the servant was how mister Shelby called his son in private but it was a pleasant surprise for Tommy to discover, they both called Charlie the same to reassure him their love and affection. Charlie jumped to the bed and hid under the covers trapping the young one to the wall, only to reappear when he realized his father wasn’t there with him.

“Dad?” Now was the time for the young boy to look mortified while mister Shelby look his old impassive self, as if his own son inviting him to another’s bed was the normal thing to do.

“You go to sleep, Charlie.” Tommy sat near the bed and lighted a cigarette, flicking the light in front of his eyes. He stayed with his back to the wall watching as mister Shelby smoked slowly, dragging every breath and enjoying the peace and quiet. When Tom didn’t say anything else, the boy awkwardly went back to bed, joining Charlie between the sheets; with his head on the pillow, the three of them shared a moment in silent.

Charlie fell asleep short after, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with him and the Shelby boy drifted away in dreams with sweet gurgling, holding onto the servant with a hand. The young one played with Charlie’s hair until he felt the baby stopped being worried and was left to rest.

He felt himself falling asleep with the combined scent of diluted Tabaco and the passing cologne of Tommy with the dying spark of the cigar that slowly began to be extinguished, by then, Tommy sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on his servant boy’s hair.

“Sleep now, little one.” Tommy began to played with his hair imitating what he had done for Charlie hours prior. “You’re safe now, so sleep.”

“Thank you, sir.” He was so grateful for his master, for showing he cared, he appreciated all of them and every person working for him, but specially those taking care of his family. “Thank you.”

Thank you for coming back for me.

[vinylhazza]

make up sex with e🥵🥺 he’d be so hurt and sorry for what he did but you look so sexy he can’t help himself;)

i did something a bit like this here, butttt since i love you i’ll do a little something in a different context.

i feel like it would be a situation where you live together so you see each other every single day after the argument and everytime you look at his face it makes you fucking angry. it was something stupid he did, but it was so inconsiderate of you and your feelings you honestly were dumbfounded he even thought it a wise idea to shut his eyes while sleeping next to you. not that you would actually hurt him...just saying sleep with one eye open.

he had lied about going out with a friend. and it didn’t even matter that the friend was a girl, or that you’d never met her, or that he wanted to hang out with her instead of you, you didn’t give a fuck about any of that. he can have his freedom, have his friends, you trusted him. the issue at hand is that he lied. and that’s what made you angry, that he thought it was a good idea to be dishonest and make it look like there might be something shady going on when in reality it was just an old friend from jersey that wandered into town and wanted to catch up. it was the fucking dishonesty that made you feel like shit. the overthinking and self-conscious mayhem that it had put you through. because what reason on this entire earth would he have to lie to you about something so innocent? especially when you’ve never been controlling, never fought with him over something so silly, never questioned him. it was the disrespect.

you hadn’t said a full sentence to him except “can you pass me a fork” in a few days and you can tell he was getting jittery. not only was he getting nervous, but grayson could even feel the sea deep tension in the room whenever he would brave the walk across the house when he knew you both were home. it didn’t make anyone feel good, but you wanted an honest apology. there were many things that you would let roll over your shoulders and into the fuck it bucket - but lying - was not one of them. and ethan knew that. he knew it more than anyone.

so he kept his distance and let you be angry, you had every right to be. you could be pissed at him for as long as you needed, because he would be there after the storm. he would still kiss you on the forehead before bedtime and whisper his “i love you” before he shut his eyes or shut the door when he left the house. he still showed that he cared.

but you were suprised when you set yourself gently on your side in the bed, ready for another strange night in a bed you both shared, and felt a hand snaking it’s way across the skin of your hip to pull you closer. you were silent as your back hit ethans warm chest, where his heart was hammering with nerves and maybe something else as well judging by the bulge you can feel against your ass.

that had been severely lacking for a few days as well.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers slowly, rubbing his thumb over the bare skin of your hip just below the fabric of your tank top. it was a simple movement but his effect on you still had a shiver shooting down your spine. but you needed to be strong.

you didn’t answer him, just waiting for him to continue so that the wall of anger you’d built up didn’t come crashing down with one measly apology. stay calm until he says something stupid, and pray he doesn’t.

“i don’t really know what to do...not even grayson stays mad at me for this long...” he goes on, sounding small and adolescent against your scornful silence.

“you don’t lie to grayson,” you point out finally, sighing out frustratedly. you know it’s been going on for far too long, but you just can’t help the betrayal you feel sparking in your memory.

“please baby...just look at me...i’m really sorry” he tries to reason, missing your eyes that look at him with this sparkle he loves so much. he just missed you and wished you would kiss him without shying away from his lips. you kept him grounded, and without your voice pushing him, he feels like he’s floating around freely in space, never truly being home. it wasn’t a feeling he liked.

with another sigh, this time with a bit of defeat, you let his hand turn you over on your other side to look at him - at that face that gives you the biggest and best puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen, the face you fall in love with everytime you see it. it’s infuriating that he’s such a good boyfriend - makes it very hard to stay mad at him. this was actually one of the only times he’s ever really fucked up and not thought about your feelings. but you didn’t want to look like a whipped bitch like everyone said. you wanted to be tough. so you kept a stoic face, blinking at him oblivious to the bulge that now pressed to your front.

fuck he was good.

“say something y/n,” ethan tries again, raising his thumb to rub at your bottom lip, urging you to speak.

“i don’t know what you want me to say ethan.” ouch. you never called him by his first name. only ever e, bub, bubba, or baby. sometimes darling but that’s special occasion. never ethan.

you knew he caught the name when he shut his eyes with this sorrowful look, still rubbing your bottom lip but biting on his own now.

when he opens them again, his pupils have doubled in size, “don’t call me that.”

“that’s your name isn’t it ethan?” you challenge with a daring voice, low, but defiant.

“not to you, no.” his eyes are dark, brown swallowed up by the blackness that just keeps growing with every passing second, his thumb dipping in between your lips to watch you give a small sick to the tip, “i missed you this week,” he continues, slow and sure.

“i’ve been here,” you point out matter of fact, blinking faster now that your heart has started to hammer in your chest.

“but not really angel, not really here.” his breath fans over your lips, just ghosting over the plush skin as he cups your face in his hand, he would like nothing more than to kiss you right now, but first he needed your forgiveness.

“forgive me,” he demands softly, hovering so close but still too far for your liking. you know that if your lips meet this badass facade you had going will be worth nothing but dirt. just a tilt of your head and your lips would be locked.

“no...” you huff, fighting for that last thread of strength, already knowing your done for if he uses that same pathetic tone again. begging for you.

he leans in just the finest bit closer, dangerously close, maddeningly close, sinfully close.

“forgive me.”

with one last blink of your eyes your tilting your chin to close that torturous gap between the two of you, kissing him for the first time in what feels like far too long.

“fuck i miss you s’much,” he mumbles through the kiss, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip and sucking a bit before letting it pop free, “does this mean you forgive me?”

you hum, smirking with a hand raking through his dark locks of hair. it won’t be that easy. with another kiss to his lips you break free to give him a suggestive grin.

“maybe with a little convincing.”

part 2

[conaionaru]

Moral of the story (Modern Bjorn)

Who knew

Synopsis: As a single father, Bjorn doesn't have much time to move on from his wife Thorunn. When Marjorie Potts stumbles into his life.

Warning: Slowburn, friends to lovers, modern au, Siggy lives, abusive ex

I don't own the gifs.

Unstrapping his little daughter from her car seat, Bjorn made his way to his house. It was new, a gift from his father to have a fresh start. It was closer to Ragnar's new family. Siggy liked being close to her uncles and little cousins.

The five-year-old run after him; her pigtails were bouncing happily as she clutched her stuffed bear in her hands.

Banging caused the two to stop. By the neighbor's house, a car parked on the lawn, ruining the grass. A man stood by the door, trying to get in. But somebody from the inside struggled to keep him out.

"Who is he?" He heard an older lady ask as three grandmas walked by.

"No idea. Never seen him before. The girl lives all alone."

"Maybe an old boyfriend. Mabel. Call the police on him. He is up to no good."

True to their word, the drunken man banged on the door and screamed loudly. "Let go, you, bitch! Fuxking whore, though you could fool me? Moving won't save you, Marjorie!"

Bjorn frowned at the yelling and left his daughter with the three women. He marched to the man just as he managed to rip the door open.

"Stop running!"

"Hey! Let her go."

The man turned around to look at Bjorn stalking towards him. "Don't interrupt. We are in the middle of something."

The redheaded girl used the moment to try and slam the door closed, but the man put his foot in the crack and slammed the door open. The force bashed the girl's head against the wood and collapsing on the ground in pain. She cursed as he raised his arm to hit her, but Bjorn wrapped her arm around his wrist and wrenched him off her.

The flashing lights of the police alerted them that the fight was over. The man ripped himself out of Bjorn's chokehold and pointed an accusing finger at him. The Ragnarsson ignored him and helped the girl up from the ground. "Are you alright? Do you see double?"

"Thanks."

The ginger looked over her shoulder at the yelling men getting restrained by the police. "I will fucking kill you, bitch! How dare you cuff me! Wait till my father hears about this! He will get you all fired! Do you hear me?!"

"Maam." A policewoman called out and walked to Bjorn and his neighbor with a medical kit in her hands. "How about we patch you up, and you can make a statement."

"I can do it here too."

The policewoman nodded and took out a notepad after patching up her head wound. The scratch on her forehead was bleeding a little bit and probably hurt like a bitch. The old ladies carried Siggy to Bjorn, who also had to make a statement. 

During his interview, he heard the girl's conversation with the cops. "He is my ex. Andrew Doyle. D-O-Y-L-E."

"Has he beat you before? Any attacks of any kind? Before or after your break-up."

"During. This is the first time he saw me since we split up. I moved to have a new start."

When all the turmoil slowed, Bjorn was left alone with his daughter and neighbor, who looked at her busted door in disdain. "I know someone who can repair it. I could call him."

The ginger looked back at him and frowned before sighing and nodding. She put her hands in her pockets as she watched the tall, broad man fish his phone out of his pocket while his little daughter runs around him in circles.

She was a cute child with dark brown eyes and strawberry blonde curly hair in two pigtails. Attentive and curious, stealing glances at the strange woman every once in a while. 

"He will come to look at it in two hours."

"Thanks... I don't know your name."

Bjorn chuckled and extended his hand to her. "Bjorn Lothbrok. This is my daughter Siggy. We are new here."

She smiled at him halfheartedly and shrugged, shaking his hand. "Joy Potts. A resident for a month. Welcome to the neighborhood, I guess." She turned on her heel to go into her home, but Bjorn called out to her once more.

"You could wait at my house. It would be safer." Joy frowned at his offer and tried to decline, but Siggy run-up to her, smiling. 

"You could play with me! Or do my hair. My Daddy is bad at it."

"I am not." He tried to protest, but Siggy shook her head and looked up at the ginger with puppy dog eyes. 

Fuck me. "Sure."

And so she ended up in a house way too huge for a single father and his little daughter. The guy had five guest bedrooms! If he rented the thing out, he could buy another car instead of the Mercedes parked out front. But the tall blonde seemed like a good guy, you know, for a rich dude. 

Joy subtly looked over his kitchen as he tried to cook something for all of them. The wine bottle on the top shelf seemed old, judging by the lair of dust on it, and very welcoming. "Do you want some? I could open it." 

She shook her head and smiled sheepishly at Bjorn's confused look. "Just trying to seize you up. You know, if I am not in the house of a psychopath." 

He chuckled and pointed at the five-year-old girl painting behind the dinner table. "I have a kid."

"Psychos have sperm too. I am sure attractive ones have some kids. Ted Bundy made on in prison." She shrugged and smirked at his bewildered expression. He invited her into his home, let him bear the consequences. She was way too fucking tired to tip-toe around him.

"Fair point." He shrugged and stirred the sauce in the pot. Joy shook her head at the technique and walked over to him to peer into the pot.

"Does food involve my stay here?" Bjorn nodded and grinned proudly at his creation that...honestly looked poisoned. "I will pass then."

"It doesn't look that bad!"

"Daddy's right! It smells worse!" Siggy called from her spot on the dinner table and run over to Joy and her father to show them her picture. It was a cute scene of her, her father, and many other people with names over them. Some of the letters were backward. But Joy could make out the words "Ubbe" and "Ivar." The last one looked like an angry troll.

"It's not so bad. I am sure it can be saved." With an unsure grin, Joy tasted the pasta sauce. It tasted horrid, so she spent the next two minutes perfecting the disaster enough so it could be edible. 

The dinner was rather quiet; Siggy ate the spaghetti happily, getting the sauce all over her. Bjorn opened the bottle of white wine, so hopefully, the awkward tension would ease. Joy was never really a people person. She liked her privacy and scandals to be her own business. After her relationship with Andrew, she lost all her friends and wasn't that bummed about it. Moving far away is easier when you had no attachments. No need to burn bridges to keep yourself safe when they were all ashes already.

"So... Why did you move here? Usually, people like you don't move into neighborhoods filled with old ladies. Or is that your type?" Maybe the wine wasn't the best decision, but she always made the wrong choices. So no surprise there, let her big mouth insult the guy that gave her shelter and fed her.

Bjorn just chuckled and looked at Siggy's adorable happy face. "I needed a quiet place to raise my daughter. Far away from my teenage brothers and my dad's new wife. And you? What's a girl like you doing here?"

Joy smirked and finished her third glass of red wine. "Escaping mostly."

"From him?"

The smile dropped from her face. Why was she even shocked at the answer? He did save her from Andrew and heard her talk with the cops. "Him and other people. Rumors, knowing eyes, judgment. It was tiring, and I needed an escape. So I thought, where would no one normally want to move? And I came here."

"No one but me, I guess. Or do I not count as normal? A guy like me? What does that even mean, by the way?"

She poured the rest of the bottle into her glass and swirled the liquid around, trying to sort her thoughts. "A guy that came from money, obviously. Otherwise, you couldn't afford a place like this. And you also invited a stranger you just met into your home. What if I was a psychopath that could kill you?"

"We can't both by psychos, can we? What would the odds be?" They both shared a laugh, Siggy asking for seconds right after. Joy couldn't look at the messy face, so she took a napkin and wiped at Siggy's face. 

"Nooo. I want to be messy. It's like make-up. It will make me pretty." Siggy whined while Joy and Bjorn laughed at her. 

"It doesn't match your skin tone, honey." Joy joked and threw the dirty napkin away. The doorbell rang right after, so Bjorn went to open the door. The man that walked in after him, was tall and lanky. 

He was the one that was supposed to fix the door. So Floki, Bjorn, Siggy, and Joy went to her home to look at the damage. The ginger led them into her living room, where Floki spread his tools and went to hang down the door. She would need a new lock and some damage control, but it would be working within the hour. 

Siggy looked around the room and then settled on the couch to watch TV. After asking Joy to do something with her hair, of course. Bjorn used the moment to look around. Despite her living here longer than him, Joy's house was impersonal. Just easily decorated to pack up faster if needed. 

The Lothbrok understood that she was probably on the run from Andrew, but the house looked so empty. No photos or anything to show that someone actually lived here. One thing that caught his attention were dog tags on the wall. "They were my dad's. Marine."

"My brother wanted to enlist, but our Dad talked him out of it. Said Ubbe wouldn't handle the violence and blood full time. Ivar still holds it over him until now." Bjorn snorted in amusement, causing Joy to laugh too. 

"Annoying little shit, brother? Know what that's like."

"Brothers?"

Joy rolled her eyes and looked at him, resting her chin against the back of the beige couch. "Two. One older, one younger. Annoying, overprotective, and a nightmare to live with as a teenage girl."

"Well, there are 13 years between me and Ubbe, who's the oldest. Bringing girls home was very hard when a little boy is following you like a lost puppy." 

Joy snorted and grinned at Bjorn's confused look. "Boohoo. Poor Bjorn couldn't get it on. My brothers threatened my first boy friend, not even dating, just project partners. The guy couldn't even walk in the same hall as me. My youngest brother banged pots outside my door after I came home from a party for the first time."

"My dad used to blast Queen right next to my ear. Sat there and laughed at my misery when he found me hugging the toilet. I still think he has blackmail material from that time."

Laughing at their pasts was so easy. As if they had known each other for years. It has been a long time since Bjorn could spend time with someone that wasn't family or work-related. "So the door is fixed. It looks like nothing ever happened."

Floki giggled while walking in. Joy jumped up to pay him, but the tall stranger stopped her. "Anything for a friend of Bjorn."

"We aren't exactly-"

"Thank you, Floki. Say hi to Helga and Angrboða for me!" Bjorn cut her off and led the men out, saying something about a playdate between their girls.

Floki looked the tall man over and grinned. "You know, you could bring Siggy tomorrow and ask the girl out. You aren't really subtle."

"I don't like Joy like that. I know her for a few hours."

"Never stop you before, Big Bear." The younger male mock glared at Floki, who just snickered and left.

When he walked back into the room, Joy and Siggy played a card game, and his daughter's hair was in two braids. "Strange fellow, isn't he?"

He shrugged and went to help Siggy win. "Known him since birth. He is my parent's friend since they were all my age. His wife and daughter are sweet, though."

After the game, Bjorn took Siggy to leave, the little girl hugging Joy as a goodbye. He looked at them and sighed. "I wanted to ask you... Would you like to go out for a drink? As neighbors and new friends, nothing serious."

Joy smirked at his stammering and nodded. "Are you going to ask the old ladies out too? I would like to see that."

"Oh yes, I have a knitting lesson planned out with each one." They laughed again and parted ways.

Joy stood there, dreading what would come during the "date." She was in no mood for a relationship so soon after Andrew. Especially after today. But if he really wants to just be friends, then fine. If he ends up in the friend zone, that's on him. 

So the next day, she spent minimal time on her make-up and clothes. If he wants to be friends, he should get used to her looking like a gremlin. But she better ease him into it; we don't want him to get a heart attack so young, do we?

Sitting at the bar and waiting for him felt weird. Joy felt desperate and ridiculous in her jeans and leather jacket. She felt like everyone kept staring, and every laugh felt like it was meant to be about her. 

 'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Listen to Iron Maiden, baby, with me, ooh

The song on the stereo made her feel old. It was released in the 2000s when she was a kid. She listened to that song constantly when it came up on the radio and sang along. Now the young people in the bar looked at the stereo in confusion, unfamiliar to the hit. 

"But he doesn't know who I am. And he doesn't give a damn about me." Bjorn sang from behind her, grinning at her shocked expression.

"You sing fine, but your timing's shit." Joy teased as he sat down and ordered a whiskey like her.

"I was held up, spilled something over my shirt, and had to change. But I am here." He grinned at her and froze. What were they supposed to talk about now? The weather? Sports? Since when was he so bad at this?!

Joy looked at him with curious eyes and sighed. "I just want to remind you, no feelings."

"That won't be hard." Bjorn shook his head; Joy raised an eyebrow at him.

"What's that supposed to mean? Am I that ugly?"

"More like I am too busy with Siggy. And I guess you aren't ready either. Moving on from her mom is... hard. I would rather like a friend that doesn't want to see me naked or something from me other than company."

Joy smiled at nodded. "Good. I am not the best adept for that, but your funeral."

"Why do you think that?"

Telling him about her severe self-hate problems and antisocial lifestyle wasn't an option. So she decided to go another route. "Just saying that how we met isn't the best friendship set up. You don't usually see that in movies."

Bjorn shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "Well, this isn't a movie. Or do you see hidden cameras here, huh?"

"You got me there, Lothbrok. So tell me, neighbor... Where are you from?"

"My Dad lives in Kattegat, Mom, and sister in Hedeby. I lived in between and with Dad at the end. What about you?"

Joy played with a strand of her hair, bobbing her head to the end of "teenage dirtbag." 

How does she know who I am?

And why does she give a damn about me?

I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby

Come with me Friday, don't say maybe

I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you

She looked down into her glass and smiled nostalgically. "We moved from Topeka, Kansas, to Oslo when Mom was pregnant with my big brother. Lived there ever since. So when the shit with Andrew was over, I moved here to Copenhagen. I figured big city, fewer people to know me. But I wanted a quieter neighborhood, so here I am."

"What about work? Do you work here in the city?" 

"Right now, nowhere. I used to bartend before, but right now, I do occasional work. Watching kids, cleaning houses, I tried gardening once. It ended badly."

"So that's why your lawn looks shitty." 

Joy gasped and hit the giggling Bjorn on the shoulder. "What's your job? Profesional asshole? Is that just part-time?"

"A hobby, really. I worked in my dad's company with Ubbe but didn't have time for Siggy. So now I am a personal trainer. So if you want to learn how to beat people up, tell me." She smiled at the invitation and clanged glasses with him.

"To a nice friendship between two idiots." 

"Skol!"

[writinginthedarkwood]

Yandere Himiko Toga x Shy Fem Reader: Anything for You.

Honestly this is pretty soft compared to some yandere pieces I’ve seen, but it took me forever to write and I’m proud of it! My requests are open!!

Warning: Smut, yandere

You get your coffee from the same place every morning. You’ve been enjoying a morning brew here for a couple months, you wake up, get dressed and bring a stack of papers to grade while you sip happily on your dark roast. You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, the past two day’s someone had already payed for your order by the time you got to the little shop.

She’d been staring at you with those bright eyes all morning. The beautiful blonde stirred sugar into her tea, she chewed on her lip while slowly circling the silver spoon around the rim of her cup, a little clink ringing out with every turn. You wanted to say something to her, but she couldn’t possibly have been the one to purchase your coffee... why would such a gorgeous woman want your attention?

You looked over at her again out of the corner of your eyes, she licked her lips after taking a short sip of her drink. She pointed a finger at you and curled it, motioning you to come to her table. You swallow hard and point to your chest. “Me?” You mouth silently to her.

A big smile spread over her lips, her Cheshire like grin sent your heart beating heavily, trying to jump out of your chest. You stood up and straightened out your pencil skirt, she looked up and down your body with obvious desire.

“Hi there cutie. Why don’t you come and sit with me?” She had a thick sweater on that’s long sleeves covered the better portion of her hands. Her long and dainty finger tips cupped the sides of her face as she leaned on her elbows. “Oh, uhm. Sure, let me grab my things.” You tried to straighten out the mess you had left on your table quickly, stuffing your students lab reports into your leather brief case.

You sat down in front of her and gave her a soft smile. “Did you need something miss?” You asked sweetly.

“I’ve been hoping to get your attention for a little bit now, but it looks like I needed a more direct approach to get your eyes out of all those papers.” A light blush sprinkled her cheeks and she bat her eyelashes at you. A blush covered your face, a bit more harshly than hers. “What did you need my attention for miss?”

She reached one hand out to touch your hand, her cold palm resting on top of your fingers. “Oh please darling, call me Himiko.” Her thumb rubbed light circles on your sensitive wrist. “I just really want to get to know you better. You’re so cute it’s annoying.”

The two of you talked for a little while, she asked a lot of questions about all the things you like, your family, your work. “But you look too young to be a professor...Especially something so science-y!” Her eyebrow raised when you told her you taught at a regular, non hero related university. “I guess that’s thanks to my quirk. I have heightened intelligence.” You looked down embarrassed, talking about your quirk made you insecure. Some people thought it was cheating that you moved through your education so quickly because of your quirk, it’s not your fault. “Wow you’d have to be super smart to teach what was it? Rocket science?” You think it’s cute how interested she is in your work and smile. “I teach astrophysics to graduates. It’s boring to most people, kids want to grow up and be hero’s, not scientists.”

Himiko rolled her eyes and made a gagging sound. “Well fuck that, people like you are the real hero’s. Educators are so underappreciated.” She dripped her words with honey, never taking her eyes off your face. “Did you go to school Himiko? I feel like we’re only talking about me.” You said with a small, nervous giggle. Himiko just shook her head with a grin. “I like talking about you! You’re so interesting Y/N.”

A brief intrusive thought interrupted your happiness. Who really is this woman? Why does she want to know so much about me? Himiko must have sensed your sudden hesitation. “It’s a bit embarrassing, but I didn’t ever finish school. I dropped out when I was really young.” She said with a light pout. “You’re so smart and cool, you don’t think any less of me now do you?” You squeezed her hand. “Of course not, are you doing any kind of work now?” Something flashed behind her eyes for a moment, a spark of something. Not many people can notice sudden bodily changes in other people, but you pick up on things other people might not. “I do odd jobs here and there. I have a friend who runs his own... business and I help him with that.” She bobbed her head up and down, satisfied with that answer.

“Himiko I’m going to ask you this in the most polite way I can...” You thought about a possible solution to why this gorgeous woman was vying for your attention so hard. She looked slightly nervous for a moment. “Are you a... sex worker...?”

You make quite a bit of money, it wasn’t impossible she had seen that magazine article about you that published recently.

Himiko burst into a fit of giggles, covering her mouth with her long sleeve. “No you goof! I’m just a normal, super cute girl. Most people don’t get what I do, so it’s easier to just say I help out my friends.” Your face burned red, horrified you’d even think to ask something like that. “I’m so sorry, if I have to be honest I’m not sure why you’d like me for anything other than my money.” Himiko stopped laughing and furrowed her brows. “Don’t even say that Y/N. For a smart girl, you’re kind of dumb.” She leaned in all the way across the table, putting her face right in front of yours. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but you’re insanely hot. I can’t get your pretty little body out of my head.” She practically purred, either unaware of the other occupants in the shop that are starting to stare, or she didn’t care.

You thought about leaning in and planting a kiss on her when your alarm on your watch went off, telling you it was time to head to the university for your first class.

“Can I take you on a date Himiko?” You blurted out while quickly grabbing all of your things. The blonde stood up and happily clapped her hands together. “Really Y/N? A date??” She beamed, clasping her hands together and holding them by her face, leaning her head to the side with big puppy dog eyes. “That would make me the happiest girl in the world!” She gushed. You couldn’t help but display a big goofy grin on your face. “Okay then... here.” You handed her your phone and Himiko put her phone number in it. “Send me your address and I can pick you up!”

Himiko was quick on her feet, she never faltered with her excuses. You didn’t think twice when she suggested you met her downtown so that you two could have a nice walk together. You thought it was sweet, that she was an angel. How did you ever get so lucky? You walked to the campus in a daze. Her face was burned in the back of your eyelids. You daydreamed about the restaurant you wanted to treat her too. There’s that really fancy Italian place with the expensive wine... Oh no how about that steak house where they always bring something to the table? Your train of thought went along uninterrupted, you felt like you were floating just above the pavement.

Himiko snickered to herself. “This is just too easy...” She muttered under her breath. You never even turned to see if anyone was following you, you never did. She’d been watching you for months, even going as far as to pick through your things in your office while you were teaching. She’d been tempted to leave you little love notes, but no. She had to be careful, you’re just so shy. She would never want you to mistake her for some kind of stalker. She loved sitting in your classroom watching you teach. It was such a turn on to see that pretty face talk about all of that nerd stuff. Who would she be today? That one bitch always talked to you too long. Visiting your office hours and interrupting your lunch. Was she trying to move in on her darling? Himiko wasn’t going to let that ruin her mood. It’s not your fault you’re so perfect. “That bitch is going to get it...” She pictured your students contorted face in her head. The way she would scream as Himiko’s knife cut through her neck. She might even cut her enough that stupid girl would die, it’s not like anyone would miss her pathetic ass. Himiko watched you fumble to put your reading glasses on, you dropped the frames and they hit the side walk. “Is it me that has you so distracted baby? You silly girl...” She purred under her breath. You bent down to pick them up, a man walking by did a double take, leering at your ass as you bent down. Himiko rolled her eyes. Men can be so disgusting, they always disappoint her. Not you though, no your the first girl you ever made her feel this way. You care about her, you had too. Nobody could see through her disguises, but the way you looked her in the way while you spoke, it was like you knew you were looking into the eyes of your soul mate.

That pig walked down the street, Himiko stuck her foot out and tripped him. He tumbled forward and looked around to see who had the nerve to bother him with a scowel.

No one was around.

You pulled up the wrong slide show for your lecture. You started teaching the wrong chapter before one of your more participating students chimed in. You apologized and the right thing loaded on the board. “Doctor Y/L/N, you seem distracted. Something on your mind?” You liked all of your students. This girl was always chatty, and asked plenty of questions. However, this sentence sort of struck a cord with you. It seemed a bit out of character, she was always very shy and stuttered often, only daring to ever talk about the topic. You were too happy to think too much about it. “Oh I just had a really pleasant morning is all. Let’s get back to chapter 49.”

You rushed home and showered, blow drying your hair and trying to apply some makeup that didn’t make it look like you were trying too hard, where the hell is that lip gloss that’s clear? Your thoughts felt frantic. A message popped up on your phone letting you know that the car was here to pick you up and take you downtown. You shot yourself another glance in the mirror and took a deep breath. Your outfit was pretty cute, you sported your favorite outfit. A plain gray pencil skirt and a white blouse. You spiced things up with a platform heel, you grabbed your jacket and purse and rushed out the door.

“Wow Y/N that’s a fancy car!” Himiko stole your breath. You hardly made it out of the car before she hooked onto your arm, giving your upper arm a side squeeze. She was wearing a tight, strapless blood red dress with matching lipstick and heels. She let her long blonde hair down and had drawn on eyeliner that matched her cat like iris’. “Himiko you look beautiful.” You managed to stammer out. She bat her long lashes at you and tipped her head up to kiss your cheek. She left just a light peck on you, you blushed and touched your face. “So where are you taking me, sugar?” She looked around the plaza. Bright lights bounced off of her eyes as she drank up the sights, busy people rushing to the different shops and restaurants.

It’s been awhile sense Himiko has been able to walk freely in public. She usually stuck to the shadows, wearing another persons face constantly has helped her hide over the years. The last thing she would need is for someone to interrupt phase one of her master plan.

“I have the worst time making decisions... there’s a pretty popular place called Aragawa... and a restaurant that serves French food too.” You wanted to impress her, but you didn’t want to look like a show off. “Those places sound expensive Y/N! Are you sure?” She looked at you with complete adoration. You wondered how no one has ever treated her to something like this before. “Of course I’m sure... there’s something about you I can’t put my finger on, but I know your special Himiko.”

If only you knew.

You two settled on a pricey Italian restaurant, Himiko had never tried pasta like this before. The waiter brought red wine to the table, Himiko swirled her glass around and looked at you with a haze over her eyes. She licked her teeth and shifted on her side of the leather booth. “Is the wine okay Miko?” You had thought of calling each other cutsie names, she lovingly has called you darling all night. Things were moving quickly between you two, somehow everything you said she agreed with and loved too. You had the same favorite movie and T.V. shows, she listened to some of your obscure music choices and even understood some of your more nerdy references. It was like you two were made for each other.

“Hold out your hand under the table, darling.” She purred through ruby lips. “Uh-uh okay. You’re so silly-”

Your face burned bright red. She handed you a small amount of cloth. You looked at your hands, it was her black lacy thong. Thin enough you wouldn’t even call this suitable underwear... what would this even cover?

“How fast can that driver of yours come pick us up?” She hooked your ankle with her own foot and uncrossed your legs. “Slip yours off. I want them.” She gently commanded you. “My car can get here through traffic in probably a half an hour...” You started to text your driver when she snatched your phone out of your hand. “That’s too long. Let’s just walk...” She bit her bottom lip and ran her nails along your arm. “Waiter! I’ll be taking the check now...” The waiter nodded politely and headed for your table. “Your panties darling...” She said a bit more stern, but with a wicked smile on her face. You looked at the wait staff around and the small intimate gathering of people. You nervously shimmied out of your own pair, pulling it off of your ankles and handing it to Himiko. She studied them for a second a bit too close to the the lip of the table where people could see. She opened her small clutch and folded them up, stuffing them inside with no intention of ever giving them back.

The two of you walked hand in hand down the street. You told a joke and Himiko laughed so hard she had to stop walking for a minute.

“Well well well...” A dark voice called from behind. You jumped, knocked out of your trance. Himiko’s body went rigid. You turned to see who had called out to the two of you. “What are you ladies walking around so late for?” The man was covered in scars. It seemed like the majority of his body was burned, deep purple scars sat under his eyes and covered half of face and all of his neck. He leaned against the wall.

Is this a villain? You wanted to move and protect Himiko, but you stood frozen on the sidewalk. “Leave us alone.” Himiko said with a sickeningly sweet tone. “Can’t you see we’re busy here?” She almost sang.

“I can see a lot of things. Pretty interesting what I’m looking at actually.” He smirked, Himiko still stood with her back to him. Her shoulders were tense and she clenched both her hands into her fist.

Was he following me? The league was working the next city over, why would he follow me after I explicitly said I was busy? Himiko seethed. He’s going to mess everything up!

“H-himiko we should j-ust go.” You couldn’t help but cower a bit. His eyes were startling, they pierced through you. He pushed himself off of the wall and approached you two. He kept his shoulders slack and opened his arms wide. “Go? Aw come on don’t go, you two are pretty cute. Why don’t we all go somewhere and have a chat...” He stuck out his hand to touch you, it was like time was moving slowly, yet everything happened within just a few seconds. Himiko spun her heel, revealing that she had been carrying a knife that was strapped to her thigh. She grabbed the mans arm and threw him against the wall, she pressed her knife to his neck and smiled. “I said that we’re not interested. Get. Lost.”

The man just sighed and shrugged. “Alright fine. Message received.” Himiko dropped her fighting stance and the man started to turn on his heel. “Would be a shame if anyone else found out about this. Not my problem though.”

You had tears welled in your eyes. Himiko put the knife back into it’s holster and cradled your face. “Oh baby, baby girl don’t cry I’m so sorry!” She wiped a stray tear away from your face.

“I didn’t mean to-” Himiko was terrified she had blown this. She had one shot to get this perfect and her line of work always had a way to worm itself into her personal business. Before she could even muster up a type of explanation, you interrupted. “Himiko do you think that man is going to try and twist this date around in the tabloids as something wrong? He said he was going to tell others...” You had a well respected position, you’ve been published multiple times. You didn’t think you were a celebrity by any means, but you didn’t want anything to happen to your job if someone were to spread a rumor about you.

Himiko almost sighed in relief.  She thought for sure you would put together that she knew the “stranger” but you hadn’t. It was like you were the smartest person in the world, except when it came to her.

Even plugging in her first name “Himiko” to google her criminal profile might pop up. “Everything will be perfectly fine honey. Let’s go back to your place and watch a movie.”

Himiko gasped when you opened the door to your apartment. It was immaculately clean, but that wasn’t what impressed her. It was high rise, the window was huge and slid open to a gorgeous balcony. It was a sizeable space with luxury furniture.

She stepped inside and twirled around. “Wow darling, it’s beautiful.” She instantly started playing with your things, picking up the magazines on your coffee table. Touching your nick nacks and studying them. Himiko was ecstatic, she’d been in here so many times while you slept. She hadn’t been able to go through a lot of your things, she was worried you would get mad that she messed up your organization. Now that you two are so much closer, she can finally take a look at all of the things that keep you busy when you aren’t studying or teaching. “It’s nothing special, I’m sure your place is nice too Miko.” She was touching a daisy you had in a modern looking vase, her look got a little distant for a moment. “Are you alright?” You stepped towards her and she flashed you a smile. “Of course! I have to travel for work a lot so I’m between places.” She looked around at the nice space around her. “I guess I’m just looking for some stability you know? It was nice when I was younger but I think I’m ready to settle down, you know?” You nodded your head and kissed her forehead. “That’s really mature. Life goes by so fast doesn’t it? My job has aged me so much.” She snuggled into your chest. “I think I’ve even seen a grey hair on my head...” Himiko giggled.

You showed Himiko around your place room by room. She lingered in your bedroom for a minute, she was resisting the urge to tear into your dressers and go through all of your clothes. She stood politely by your side, and when you opened the master bathroom she followed a few steps behind.

“It looks like a spa in here!” She was astonished. Your few makeup products were scattered on a large sink counter. You had a stand alone shower and a jacuzzi bathtub. She turned around and grabbed the collar of your blouse. “I have a naughty idea...” You could still smell the wine on her breath. She placed a sweet kiss on you and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and enjoy it for a moment. She pulled away, nibbling on your lip. “We should take a bath together.”

Both of you laid back while the jets massaged your bodies. Himiko playfully dumped almost the whole bottle of bubble bath into the water. You had your eyes closed, looking relaxed but truthfully you’ve never been more nervous. Himiko squealed when she saw you undress, gushing about how cute you are.

Her hand touched your thigh and your eyes shot open. She was staring at you intently. She pushed herself closer to you, her breasts pressed against your own. Himiko kissed your neck and you whimpered. “Oh cutie I want to make you purr so bad~” She nipped at your jaw and pressed her fingers around your hardened nipple.

The water sloshed around the rim of the tub, Himiko had you pressed against the porcelain wall, she held your leg in the hook of her arm. She rubbed herself against your throbbing pussy. She relentlessly caused friction on your swollen clit, you held onto the edge of the jacuzzi for stability. Himiko laughed between her own moans. “Your face is so cute. Cum for me baby please- I want to see the face you make when you cum.” She gasped and moaned wildly, she almost screamed, her noises becoming manic. You could hardly move, you hadn’t felt this type of stimulation before, it was almost too much. “I- I’m going to cum M-miko I can’t take it!” She moved her hips frantically and you spilled over the edge. You called her name out and she slowed down a bit, both of you were slightly out of breath. Himiko let your leg go and kissed you softly.

Himiko and you watched a horror movie in your bed. You snuggled under the blankets, Himiko picked the movie. It was sort of gory, you didn’t really like this sort of thing but for some reason it was one of Himiko’s favorites.

It’d been about two months. At this point, you two were together every day now. You’d meet for coffee before you went to work, and she’d come by your apartment at night for dinner. On the weekends the two of you took little day trips, Himiko hadn’t seen a lot of the major tourist places in your area which surprised you. She visited you at work a few times, she added an intense spice to your life. She practically threw you into your office during your lunch hour and ravaged you, clawing at you desperately. Every time the two of you were intimate she acted like you would slip through her fingers, she was wild and a delicious lover.

Himiko couldn’t be happier with how things were turning out. This was following her plan almost exactly, but she was running out of time. Dabi had done her a kindness by not mentioning you to anyone else. But it was a matter of time before she couldn’t make any excuses anymore. Other members were catching on that she was disappearing for long periods of time, that her loyalties were fading.

It was time for phase two of her plan.

“Himiko we have to talk about something serious.” You were shaking you were so nervous. Things were getting serious between you too, you didn’t want this to end. “What’s wrong my darling?” Himiko knew exactly what you were about to say, she calculated this down to the exact sentence. She knew you so well she knew you would be terrified to bring this up. “I got a really crazy job offer outside of the country.” Himiko had been practicing in the mirror what face she would make. A face of concern, but not too sad. “I can’t take it, it’s a ton of money and it’s the job of a lifetime... but...”

Come on just say it baby... Himiko was great at masking her excitement.

“I can’t take it. I love you, I know it’s kind of early but I love you so much. I can’t imagine leaving you here.”

Jackpot.

She gave you a moment to finish your piece, but she didn’t hesitate to gush about how much she loves you too.

“Y/N... I think you should take it.” She took your hand and smiled.

“Wh-what? I can’t leave you.” You thought for a moment. “Himiko I think that maybe, we should go. Together.”

Finally, her ticket out. A life on the run, a life underground was fun while it lasted but finally. She could have a family, a new life across the ocean. Nobody would know her name, she would be your trophy wife. One you could parade proudly at high profile events. More importantly, more than anything.

You would be all hers, she could give you all of her time.

You’d buy first class tickets under your name, she had already a fake passport. It was easy to black mail that stupid scientist in Switzerland, he lost his job and she sent in your application at the perfect time. If they hadn’t offered you the job she’d just keep going down the line, taking out anyone who stood in your way.

The minute she first saw you, she knew you two were meant to be together at all costs. Nothing mattered, but you two.

You two packed up everything in your apartment that week. You and Himiko bought matching rings, and matching cozy clothes to wear on the plane. Himiko had a head ache that day, she wore sunglasses on the plane and an oversized beanie. Poor thing wasn’t feeling great and stayed quiet for the long trip. She laid on your shoulder and you two cuddled the entire ride.

“I’m so happy Y/N, this is everything I could have ever dreamed of.”

[pogaytosalad]

Heres a wip of a sequel.

Dmviolence, by jade

Hello, if youre hearing this, it probably means im dead. Either that, or im alive and just got tired of keeping this hidden. You might remember my voice from a previous recording about a takeover in sector ⬽:➻, in which id helped prevent total annihilation of the sector. At the time i was unnamed, however now you may call me Kalton. After the takeover i resigned and moved to a job at a dmv. This planet was, for some reason, in one of the most tactically advantageous locations in the galaxy. And for some reason the higher ups dedicated the whole damn planet to dmvs. Dont ask why. Now, onto the story.

I woke up, and i put on my emerald green contact lenses. Just like any other day. I put on a basic white t-shirt and a leather bomber jacket along with a pair of jean shorts. If you cant tell by now, im gay.

I live in a small apartment. By small apartment i mean a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen all crammed into 2 rooms. I hopped out the bedroom window onto my motorcycle. It was a diamond white motorcycle with deep red stripes along the sides and the handlebars. My pride and joy. I put on my jet black helmet and took off towards my job at the, you guessed it, dmv.

Chapter 2

I pulled up in the parking lot and took off my helmet, my blue hair a total rats nest. The doors were push doors, yet i somehow ALWAYS pulled first. I entered the dmv and went to my station. A few hours passed by and no one had come in yet, which was unusual. So naturally i decided to sit down on the floor, put in my earbuds, and enjoyed some heavy metal. A few more hours passed by, and usually by now i wouldve been yelled at by my boss. This struck me as odd so i stood up. I really wish i hadnt stood up. The place had been completely destroyed. There were drop pods crashed in through the roof and they all had the ERGON logo on them. Ergon was a multi trillion dollar pencil manufacturing company with its own military. They had previously tried to take over sector ⬽:➻ when i had been working there. I was not looking forwards to what was about to happen.

Quickly, i ducked back onto the floor before anyone saw me. There were 4 riot soldiers holding this building. This was gonna be fun. The riot soldiers are your stereotypical riot gear and police baton soldiers. But these guys had laser batons and the riot gear gave them heightened strength and speed. They also had some, dare I say, shitty energy pistols. I crawled over to one of the soldiers who wasnt being watched and broke their neck. Carefully I took the baton and the pistol. Slowly crawled my way back to my station and checked the shot count in the pistol. I had 6 shots, just enough to take care of the remaining three soldiers. I stood up quickly and shot each soldier twice in the head. First shot to open the riot helmet, second shot to kill. I vaulted over the counter and grabbed the three pistols. These things were so stupid. You couldnt even remove the clips. Once you ran out of shots, the pistol was useless. Nonetheless, i didnt have any choice. I had a laser baton and 18 total shots in 3 pistols.

Upon leaving the building, my motorcycle was one of the few things to survive. It had alot of scratches and damage, but it still worked. The helmet was shattered however. I mounted the motorcycle and took off towards the next closest dmv. Maybe id find some better gear there.

Chapter 3

Pulling up next to the second dmv i immediately noticed 3 things. 1: there was blood everywhere. 2: there were 25 soldiers here. And 3: they all had energy weapons. The reason these things are relevant is because energy weapons dont cause bloodshed. This was the result of something else. Something new i hadnt dealt with yet.

I drove up and ran over 5 of the soldiers. This was probably an incredibly bad idea, seeing as i had 18 shots, enough for 9 kills, and there were 20 soldiers left. Every single soldier turned to me and i, being the absolute genius that i am, welded the front of one of the pistols shut with the laser baton, shot it off, and threw it into thei crowd of soldiers. It exploded, releasing a shockwave of energy and disabling the soldiers. I then used the baton to cut through the riot gear and kill the soldiers. I felt like a badass. That is until a mechanical looking wolf jumped at me and started trying to rip my face off.

The wolf was a frostwolf, except it had been placed into a mechanical frame and its teeth and claws had been replaced with lasers. I tried to bash it off of me with the baton but it just bit it in two. This gave me just enough time to grab an energy pistol and shoot the wolf. It kept trying to kill me amd i wasted a whole clip on it until suddenly, the dog started to levitate in the air and got thrown aside into a wall. I got up and was instantly frozen in place. Thats when.. she walked up.

Chapter 4

The she i am reffering to is ebony. A goth/punk wannabe with light blue tear shaped eyes and black hair with purple streaks. Shes a bitch whos mind got too powerful and now she can move things without touching them. Shes been chasing me for months. Not in a murderous way. Shes just obsessed with me. Ive tried to tell her im gay but she wont listen. And now im at her mercy.

She walked up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I hated it. She looked as if she was contemplating whether or not to free me when a pod came down from the sky and crushed her. Thank god. But i honestly wouldve rathered suffered at her hand than deal with what i had to deal with next...

Out of the pod came the warden. The goddamn warden from sector ⬽:➻. Last id seen him hed been in the same situation as ebony. Crushed to death under a pod. But this time, instead of being on my side, he was here to kill me. He was huge. Like seriously huge. He was at least 8 feet tall and shaped like gaston. Whos gaston? Nobody knows these days. But its basically a way to say "extremely buff and wide". Back to the story. The warden wasnt looking very good, considering the rotten skin, obviously quickly patched together face, and muscles hanging loose out of his skin. His rotting ruined body was held together by an exoskeleton of chromium-tungsten alloy. Nothing i had was gonna cut through that. I was gonna have to get creative here..

The warden had 2 weapons, both of them were his fists. Huge gauntlets that were each about the size of a cow. Definitely bigger than his previous set. They were a golden green metal i couldnt identify. But i didnt want to get hit with one to try and find out. I ran. I ran as fast i could run into the dmv and hid. I could hear the wardens footsteps. It was as if a small earthquake happened each time he took a step.

I peeked over the desk i was hiding behind and saw him punch through the 2 desks opposite to me. It took no effort and i couldve sworn i saw him smile. Obviously i didnt. Cause he didnt have a mouth anymore. But if he did, he definitely wouldve smiled. I took a shot to get his attention and ran off towards the wall. The warden was definitely faster than i expected.

Luckily i managed to dodge the blow by a centimeter. The metal smelled of decaying flesh and popcorn. The wardens blow punched a huge hole in the wall. I hope you see where im going with this.

I ran off to another wall and we repeated this same process a number of times until the building was barely still up. I ran out the doors and threw the baton at the last of the supports, cutting through it and causing the building to collapse in on the warden. He wasnt getting out of that. I decided to search the rubble to see if i could find anything worth taking. I found a new baton, a flame rifle and a few more energy pistols.

The flame rifle was a very interesting design. The sides were painted jet black with flame decals scattered about. You could feel the heat on the inside and it made the gun warm to the touch. Comfortable to hold. Other than that though, it looked like an old fashioned 8.59mm sniper rifle. It had 4 shots remaining, so id have to use it sparingly.

I grabbed some scrap materials out of the rubble to make a holster for it and put it on my back.

The energy pistols just dangled from a keychain. The baton was simply turned off and placed through a hole in the back pockets of my shorts. I ran to my motorcycle and drove off, i needed to find out more. I had questions, and i had a sneaking suspicion that i knew where to find the answers.

I drove off again, i was dirty and there was blood on me and my bike. I probably looked like a serial killer. But i knew that if anyone was still alive, itd be jayden. They were.. well. They were a vampire. They lived in a swampland area and wore sparkly rainbow shirts and a huge sunhat. The sunhat allowed them to go outside in the sun, and they only drank coconut water. They also had a crazy amount of weaponry and used to work at ergon, before being fired for stealing weaponry. By the way, if you havent noticed by now, im using they/them to refer to jayden. Jayden doesnt have a gender. Jayden.. is kind of my crush. It probably has something to do with the fact that theyre the only person on this planet who talks to me. Other than ebony.. but ebony is... not my type i guess. Anyways, back to jayden. Jayden was on the roof of their swamp shack drinking coconut water out of a wine glass. I yelled up at them and they fell off the roof onto my back. I guess i cushioned their fall. Jayden immediately said "What do you need dear" without waiting for me to stand up, and shattered the wine glass. I informed them of the situation and asked the questions i had. Things like "what are the ergon soldiers defences like on their ships" and "how did they reanimate the warden" they had answers.

Jayden told me about the new security measures that had been put in place since id last been on an ergon ship. There was now a code for each teleportation pod and the gaurds had doubled. As for the warden, it turns out jayden was actually the first test run in reanimation sciences, and couldnt answer me because they had been unconcious in a lab when the warden was reanimated. That explained the vampire undead thing. Jayden invited me into the shack where they pulled a nail out of the floorboards and it turned into a ramp to the basement. Down in the basement? Thats where jayden kept their weapons they stole. And boy oh boy were there some interesting ones.

One that immediately caught my attention was the big rocket launcher. It had 3 barrels and each was a different colour, indicating a different effect. One was red, one was yellow, and one was green. The red barrel fired a normal explosive rocket, the yellow barrel fired an electromagnetic pulse rocket, and the green barrel fired an acidic explosive. And the launcher shrunk down to the size of an energy pistol when a button was pressed. It gathered up dirt and dust and garbage around it from the back to quickly convert into ammo but the only downside is that it would be difficult to use more than once in an area.

Jayden picked out an old shotgun. At first i didnt understand why, but then they loaded the clip. The clip was a huge drum that loaded in the bottom of the barrel. The drum was see through and inside you could see sawblades lined up side by side. When they pumped the shotgun a blade got lifted into a slot between the 2 shotgun barrels and started glowing red. When the trigger was pulled, the blade spun at high speeds and fired out of the slot, spinning along the ground like a wheel. It could cut through anything a baton could cut through and seemed to almost follow its target. The gun itself looked like an DP-12, except behind the pump, a large clear drum full of sawblades was in place. The blade sat between the barrels in place of the iron sights and got heated up by an electrical circut.

I also took a laser sword instead of my baton, it was just like the one that [3825968] had, except this one was about an inch longer. The final weapon i took was an acid thrower. It was basically just a watergun with acid in it. Ive always been partial to acidic weapons. If youve heard my other story, youd know why..

Jayden also took a submachine gun that fired freezing rounds. The rounds were essentially glorified waterballoons with liquid nitrogen in them. Though the rounds were bullet sized, enough shots from it would certainly freeze you in place. The freeze gun was about the size of the average human head, and was painted navy blue with blue saphire stripes placed along it. We both left the shack, me with my sword and jayden with a wine glass. We were ready to kick ass and put a stop to this.

We left and immediately both got flung into some trees. Guess who it was. It was ebony. Her body had been found and reanimated. I was starting to see a pattern. And now we had to fight the telekinetic who could kill us with a wave of her hand.

She was levitating. Her eyes were glowing red and her hair was floating in the air. She had a smile of someone about to rip your arms off and beat you with them. I tried to take a shot at her but my hand got knocked aside by an invisible force. So i tried the next best thing. Seduction. Fake seduction. Hopefully the whole dying and coming back from the dead thing didnt make her stop being weirdly obsessed with me.

While i faked surrender and complimented ebony and attempted to seduce her, jayden took aim of their ice gun and shot a burst at ebonys right arm. The arm froze in place and shattered. Hopefully that would lower the strength of her telekinetic abilities. It did. But only by about half. Which meant jayden got thrown into the air as i tried to discreetly unholster my acid gun. It wasnt discreet enough and the gun was knocked from my hand.

The gun flew forwards and the impact of hitting the ground set it off for a second, just enough to spray an acidic burn through her arm. Incapacitating her. Jayden ended up sneaking up behind her and impaling her through the skull with the shattered end of their wine glass. Finally ebony was dead for good.

The acid gun was busted, so we had to leave it behind. We got onto my motorcycle and took off towards my apartment building. We would need food if we were going to be traveling. An apartment complex would probably be full of foods, and alot of dead people who wouldnt care if we took some stuff.

[lady-of-rohan]

“A lesson you won’t forget.”

Ahhh okay so I saw this amazing find by @tenderlydestroyed with some choice Dutch dialogue and I couldn’t help myself. I bring you... filth. Includes spanking and uhh hot-dogging so don’t read if those aren’t your thannngs. Ima run away now, into the night, for I am a feral creature when it comes to these men. Arthur was in a damned good mood. Maybe even a mischievous mood. The air was rife with the joys of spring, the weather warm and comfortable, and with the changing weather also brought...

...well, thoughts of the birds and the bees. Or perhaps in this case, it was the bees and the bees. Arthur didn't rightly know, but with Dutch so awfully busy all the time, he was growing impatient. There was only so much he could do, alone in his tent at night.

He'd started his morning by ambling 'accidentally' into Dutch's living quarters, touching all his books, petting the pronghorn hide that kept his bed warm, and generally taking up space. Dutch came rushing over like a raging bull, shoving Arthur out of his tent and rambling about privacy, and making Arthur promise he'd respect his personal belongings. Arthur chuckled, but promised. For now.

Dutch was a strange man, kind of like a finicky cat. Sometimes, he was all for attention, wanting to be touched and loved and adored. Other times, when he was locked up in his own head, he was hissing and biting and demanding privacy. It all came down to, Dutch got what Dutch wanted, when he wanted it. Which wasn't all together productive when Arthur was feeling needy.

He knew he was crossing a line when Dutch was carrying a bucket of water over to his tent, likely to wash up, and Arthur forcefully shouldered into him. The water went everywhere, splashing all over the bottom of Dutch's pants, as well as his favorite leather shoes. When the outlaw attempted an apology, though he was smirking, Dutch was prompt to cut him off with vitriol.

"Do you need me to teach you a lesson you won't forget?!"

"Sorry, Dutch, dunno what's gotten into me today--"

When Dutch grabbed his elbow, forcefully enough that his nails were digging into his skin, Arthur knew he'd overstepped massively. His cheeky grin disappeared, Dutch's grip only tightening. He probably looked like he'd seen a ghost in that moment, the color draining from his face, and as he attempted to pull away, Dutch had him kept.

"Since you're so insistent on being a child, I'm going to have to treat you like one."

He said that loudly enough for the vast majority of the camp to hear.  Lenny was passing by, nearly walking right into a tree at the awkward display. Molly looked up from brushing her hair, looking a little redder in the face than usual. In the distance, he heard Karen cackling.

Short of grabbing him by the earlobe, Arthur was dragged off by Dutch, but not before the older man had asked Molly for her favored hairbrush, which she'd given up almost breathlessly.

And so, Arthur Morgan was led off site and down the lake's edge, to a secluded area on the shore. Far enough away to be away from prying eyes, but certainly not enough distance for sound to not carry.

Dutch rolled up his pinstriped sleeves, and situated himself on a piece of driftwood. He looked up at Arthur, gesturing with his hands.

"Take down your pants, boy."

Arthur was speechless, suddenly incredibly embarrassed now that they were here. He'd wanted him, of course, but hadn't expected retribution to be so swift.

The big, tough cowboy found himself fumbling for words as Dutch's dark gaze was fixed on him. He felt two feet tall.

"Listen, Dutch, I was just jokin' around--"

"That's bullshit if I ever heard it, son."

Before he knew it, Dutch had taken care of it for him, reaching up for his suspenders to slide them from his muscled shoulders, and popping the button off his trousers before forcefully yanking them down his legs. Arthur stood there, humiliated, and already half-hard, his dick mere inches from Dutch's face where he sat.

Dutch sighed, and tugged him so that Arthur sprawled awkwardly over his lap. His ass went ass up as Dutch bent a knee, propping him. He could feel one hand bracing him firmly at the small of his back, followed shortly by Dutch's broad palm connecting with his naked ass. Arthur gasped. Dutch spanked him again, this time a little lower, close to where his upper thigh met his cheek. He made an obscene noise, fingers digging into the dampened sand to brace himself.

It was clear that Dutch heard him, his big hand gripping his ass hungrily, fingertips pressing.

"Oh, I'm sorry Arthur, was that too hard?"

His voice mocked him. Arthur dared to defy him, keeping his nose to the ground.

"Ain't hard enough."

"Is that so, now?"

There was no buildup, no warning. Just hard, angry smacks as Dutch whipped him like a disobedient child. They were a ways down the lakeside, but there was no way the sound wasn't reverberating back to camp. Arthur's thoughts couldn't help but wonder how he was going to explain this... wondered how much he'd be mocked by the others for being punished by their gang's leaders. There were already rumors, of course, but this certainly added fuel to the fire. His face flushed just thinking about it, stomach fluttering with preemptive embarrassment.

Speaking of fire, and Arthur's ass was feeling it. Dutch smacked him until his ass felt alight, heat emanating from his bare skin. There was lightning in Dutch's swing, like Zeus himself, and Arthur was a mere mortal, subjected to his fury.

"Tell me, Arthur," Dutch began conversationally, words accented by sharp slaps as Arthur grunted. "What possessed you to antagonize me?"

His breath caught tight in his chest, hitching through that sweet painful ecstasy. "I-- I dunno, Dutch... seemed like a good ide' a' the time--"

"And now?"

"You know me, I'm not one to live with regret--"

"We'll see about that."

He had no idea how long they went at it, gasping and groaning as sand encrusted beneath his nails and his boots slipped on the shore each time he jolted from pain. Of course, his situation beneath the belt hadn't lessened... hell, he couldn't understand it himself, but pain did it for him.

When Dutch finally eased up, Arthur was ready to right himself, when Dutch grabbed a fistful of his hair and shoved him back down. This time, when Dutch hit him, Arthur actually cried out. He knew instantly that it was no longer the malleable texture of Dutch's fleshy palm. No, it was harder, more intense... deeper and far more stinging.

Molly's goddamned brush.

What was that, ivory?! Whatever it was, it hurt like a goddamned son-of-a-bitch. Dutch hauled back and hit him again with the object, and Arthur swore he could already feel a bruise forming, his vision seeing stars.

"Dutch!" Arthur actually struggled, a leg kicking, sending sand flying. "Godammit!"

"Have you learned your lesson yet, boy?"

Another hit that filled his eyes with starlight, hips grinding against Dutch's leg.

"JESUS, Dutch!"

"Apologize. Now."

Another whip of the brush. Then another. Arthur's words were blurted, not sure if he was going to shed tears or cum right then and there.

"I'm sorry, Dutch!" “I’m not sure I heard right, over your whimpering.”

He dared to hit him yet again, and Arthur swore he stopped existing entirely. “I mean it, Dutch, I’m sorry!”

A man of his word, Dutch ceased. Gripped Arthur's raw backside in his palm, and then rubbed soothingly, occasionally teasing him with his finger, as he was quite clearly, rather spread. It took some time for Arthur's heart to settle back down, breaths low and shallow. Regrettably, he was still entirely aroused. Dutch, of course, seemed to notice his stiffness against his leg, and ordered him to get up again.

Arthur wiped his face with his dirty hands, more to cover up how red he'd gone. Now that he was standing, the muscles in his ass strained, like he'd run 30 miles. God, he was sure he'd be feeling that for a week. He resisted the urge to reach back and rub himself, not wanting to look like an idiot in front of the older man.

Pants still around his knees, Arthur stood there as Dutch righted himself and dragged him off again, up the grassy hill towards a nearby tree.

"Lean there," Dutch ordered, and Arthur hesitantly looked over his shoulder, wondering if he was actually done with him. Truth be told, he wasn't sure how much more he could take. Still, he bent over obediently, palms against the rough tree bark as he held onto mother nature.

But instead of whipping him, he heard the heavy leather of Dutch's double-holsters drop, his belt hitting the ground, and soon he felt the teasing warmth of Dutch's thick cock between his heated cheeks. So, he'd enjoyed himself, too...

He didn't dip inside, just poked with his tip, and rubbed with his shaft, arousal dripping over pink skin, as his dick sandwiched itself comfortably between the warmth of Arthur's ass.

"You wanted it," Dutch said, all anger dissipated, replaced by sheer lust. "Touch yourself."

One hand gripping the tree, his other moved low to wrap around his throbbing manhood, an obscene moan escaping his parted lips.

"There’s no use hiding it, Arthur. Now, enjoy yourself. I want to hear you scream like the filthy thing you are.”

Meanwhile, Dutch bucked his hips as he gripped Arthur's waist, sliding and teasing as Arthur clenched, using the friction of his firm buttocks for his own release. Even feeling Dutch's firmness nestled there, a welcome comfort against his burning and bruised rear.

Unsurprisingly, Arthur came first... having been rather pent up, and Dutch followed suit. Arthur didn't remember much, just a blinding hot pleasure-pain, forehead pressing against the tree as he yelled out Dutch's name. Dutch, himself, had made a hot, sticky mess all over Arthur's ass.

Dutch held him a few moments, allowing himself to lean his chin against Arthur's broad shoulder.

"Let's clean up this mess," he said lowly, "but before we go, Arthur... will you forget this?"

The older man's prior words came back to haunt him, but this time around, Arthur smiled.

"Not 'til the end of my days."

Dutch chuckled, nibbling on his ear before moving to tug his own pants back up.

"Good." [PS: my first Vandermorgan filth, found here!]

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 2

[I didn’t edit again because I’m a lazy bitch, but here you go! It’s a lot shorter and I KINDA imagine many of Vegeta’s will be because this IS more about Nabooru. But it’s also about both of them and I LOVE writing pre-Z stuff so. Here you go.]

Vegeta

Beneath Frieza, Zarbon was at the top of Vegeta’s to-murder list, tied with Dodoria. But he would be sure to murder both of Frieza’s most trusted lackeys first and make him watch as he humiliated the smug generals. Slowly. In ways not even Hell could let them forget.

“Who do you think that girl with Zarbon was? Weird that he would be stuck with the task of toting a lowly new recruit around.”

“Who knows. Maybe the pretty boy pissed Frieza off and that was his punishment. Serves him right.” Vegeta heard Nappa hum and could see the large Saiyan folding his arms over his chest despite his position in front of his two cohorts. “Her power level was nothing to sneeze at. Neither were her ti--”

“Yes, she’s even stronger than you are, Nappa,” Vegeta chimed in before the conversation could veer off in the direction he sensed it going. He didn’t have the patience for their horny drivel on a normal day, and simply seeing Zarbon had lowered his tolerance. Thus, he refused to listen to them prattle on about this new recruit’s figure and whatever lewd fantasies they had already dreamed up about her. “If you’re not careful, perhaps I’ll have her replace you.”

“What? Come on, you don’t mean that!” 

“Perhaps I do.” A smirk curled the prince’s lips. “She’s stronger than you and much easier on the eyes. What do you think, Raditz?”

“I would say it’s a pretty sound strategy. Good chance she’s smarter, too.”

Nappa huffed. “If Frieza murders the two of you in this meeting, I won’t miss you.”

“Speaking of that, what do you think he wants with all three of us?” Radtiz asked. “He usually only calls for you.”

An unfortunate truth and the reasoning for the change of the tyrant’s usual habits escaped him. Even when the matter at hand involved all three Saiyans--a new job he felt the need to assign in person, to scold them for a mission he deemed botched by them, or to simply torment the Saiyan prince for his own entertainment--he only requested Vegeta’s presence, likely due to his station as the undisputed leader of their trio and would-be monarch that ruled them if he still had a domain and people to rule over. Perhaps he had finally decided to do away with the rest of their race by putting the three of them out of their misery after all.

Then again, Frieza had quite the penchant for torture of both the physical and mental variety. Death would be too merciful.

“I guess this time he wanted more of an audience for whatever hell he’s planned for me than just Dodoria and Zarbon.” He turned a corner, the other two Saiyans following him down the final stretch of hallway leading toward the base’s central hub. “With Zarbon busy, he’s down a lackey for the moment. Perhaps he wanted the room to feel fuller.”

“Too bad we’re not as prone to kissing his ass,” Nappa mumbled, his boisterous tone quieted as they approached the door. The three may not suck up to Frieza as to near the same degree as the emperor’s closest confidants, but they weren’t stupid enough to incur his wrath for even a minimal insult such as that. It pained them to live with such fear, to tiptoe around anyone like a trio of children. The prince likely more so than the other two with his royal blood, his top tier power level that still paled in comparison to Frieza and even his lap dogs. Treading on thin ice constantly wore on his psyche, his pride. But his ire for the tyrant and pure spite drove him to survive and kill him. For the years of torment and Vegeta’s suspicion of his role in his people’s demise.

He would take back all that was promised to him.

The double doors slid open and admitted the Saiyans into the heart of the base where they found Frieza with his back to them, finishing off a conversation with the captain of another base somewhere in the cosmos. The screen in front of him blinked to darkness again. “It’s never simple, is it Dodoria? It seems we’ll have to make a little visit to sector eight soon after all.” He turned to face them and the three bowed. “Ah, perfect timing. I just lost the patience for waiting around too long.”

"Of course, my lord." Vegeta rose from his bow, hoping the strain in his jaw loosened before he met Frieza face to face. "We hurried straight here when we received your transmission."

Dodoria snorted, but Frieza ignored him. "Obedient as always. I've trained you well. But I'll cut right to the chase." His crimson gaze shifted from Vegeta to his left. "I have need of your large nanny, prince."

It took a massive amount of control to keep the surprise from his face, but a glance at Nappa revealed he hadn't been near as successful, the giant blinking with a tensed jaw. Confusion was better than fear, though the three of them no doubt felt some degree of it. Nappa for his own life, Vegeta for the potential loss of his most loyal underling. Though dumb and weak compared to him, the oaf had proven himself more than useful over the years.

"I mean no disrespect, sire, but what would you have me do?" Nappa asked. Vegeta felt a rush of a breeze as the former General dipped into another bow.

"Training." The Acrosian emperor folded his arms behind his back. "I have an...interesting new recruit. A very capable fighter, but new to utilizing ki. As you know, I prefer my soldiers have more than a basic handle on their energy and using it. A few weak blasts won't cut it in the force, and I see potential in her power level if given some proper training in ki utilization specifically. I want useful soldiers, not dead weight."

Vegeta's dark brows lowered in skepticism, but before he could request further explanation of why he needed Nappa for such a task, Frieza continued on, proving his impatience and readiness to move on with whatever heinous plans he had for sector eight. "A combination of the reports concerning her and her people along with my own observations revealed they are not unlike you Saiyans in their lust for combat. A little less bloodthirsty, perhaps, but quick learners and more than happy to jump into any fight presented to them. This particular soldier embodies this to the Nth degree. I'm sure even your monkey brains have figured out my train of thought: with such similarities, what better teacher for her than a Saiyan of which I have three more than willing to assist with it? I chose your giant for his experience in the field since, if I recall, he had a hand in your training, yes?"

“That is correct.” A minimal one, but Vegeta couldn’t deny Nappa’s involvement in his early combat training. The basics of physical and ki-based combat Nappa taught the prince himself. Until the young Saiyan realized his own strength and it became a hazard to the advisor’s health. He had never been known for pulling his punches no matter the opponent, and with a formidable power level at birth, it wasn’t long before he could subdue Nappa in minutes. When a spar nearly cost him his life, Nappa decided besetting Saibamen on him would prove more effective, coaching from the sidelines rather than serving as the royal punching bag. Vegeta attributed much of his learning to his own natural prowess, however. A self-taught prodigy for the greater portion of his training and growth.

“Perfect. I know it will break your heart to be down one cohort, but I’m sure you and the other will manage for...let’s say a month. I believe that is more than enough time for her to adjust and reach the required levels. If not,” he chuckled and shared a smirk with Dodoria, “I suppose that will be the end of this little experiment.”

Of course this was all just some stupid pet project of his. A waste of time, likely, that would only serve to rob him of Nappa for much too long. Vegeta held his tongue and bowed his head again. “Very good, my lord.”

“Since I likely will not be here to assess her myself, I will expect daily reports on her progress starting tomorrow,” he told Nappa. “You two will continue your jobs as scheduled. I’m sure you can handle that a man down.”

“Yes, sire.” Nappa and Raditz mumbled their own affirmation in unison with the prince and took Frieza turning his back to them as their dismissal. They each bowed once more and Vegeta turned on his heel to lead them back into the hallway. 

Not until they reached the barracks sector and piled into the elevator did anyone dare speak, Raditz the first to express his thoughts on the matter: “You lucky bastard. You’re basically getting a vacation with a view.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes and pressed the button for the third floor with a huff. “Is that all you two think about? You don’t even know if that woman is the one he’ll be training.”

“Not all of us are content ignoring our needs like you,” Raditz retorted, folding his arms. “Besides, there’s a good chance it's her. She’s obviously new, didn’t even have armor yet.”

“Almost a shame she’ll have to change out of that outfit she was wearing,” mused Nappa, rubbing his chin. “Shit, even if it’s not her, having a woman around will be a nice change of pace in this place.”

Vegeta shot him a glare as they stepped off the elevator. “Your job is to train her, not bed her, Nappa.” He halted in front of his own door and typed in the four-digit code that offered him admission. He was keen on spending the few hours they had left before the final meal of the day without his cohorts. He had tired of them and their new strain of conversation for the moment. “Don’t do anything stupid that’s going to get you killed. You’ll be teaching her how to do it, after all.”

The prince entered his room, not caring for his subordinate’s reply as he closed the door behind him with the press of a button. He crossed his room to his bed and flopped down on it, arms folded tightly over his chest and a glare aimed at the ceiling. While the meeting with Frieza could have played out in far less favorable ways, it did nothing for his mood. He and Radtiz could handle the clutch of jobs assigned to them over the next month without issue, the possessive side of him balked at the idea of Nappa being anywhere but where he wanted him. What was the bastard up to with all this? Even if she was just a new recruit in need of additional training, there were thousands of other soldiers that could implement her training. His explanation be damned, Frieza hardly ever concerned himself with compatibility, so what was his angle? Was it just his own paranoia where the emperor was concerned frazzling him, or was there merit to his suspicions?

Vegeta groaned and flipped over onto his side, tearing his scouter off his face and resisting the urge to throw it against the wall. Patience was a virtue in short supply for him, but he had little other choice but to wait it all out. If luck favored him, though it rarely ever did, he would wash his hands of this mess entirely within a month.

[katsukikitten]

A Pink Rose 2

Me: Update the fucking master list, you're getting so far behind

Me to me: Nah bitch drop parts one and two of a new series that you just wrote NOW

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

"This is the people you owe money to?" Katsuki hisses as he glares at a certain red headed man beside him as they both stand in a sketchy part of town. Only the building across from them shows no sign of dilapidation while the ones around it show of an apocalyptic view.

He's starting to wish he hadn't vouched so hard for him when they were teenagers.

"Yea..." Ruby red eyes rove over the front of the well known bar in the mafia. One where you can spend the night with women, for a price of course.

And if any man ever pushed past a woman's set boundary the boss of these women would kill you on the spot. Leave your body some where very public as an example.

The display showcasing what should happen to anyone who dare disrespect a Tiger Lily Rose.

Kirishima swallows as his boss' stare turns deadly.

"When did you open a tab here? You've been married to your wife for how long?" He grinds out, "I didn't peg you as a fucking douche."

"Ah this was a long time ago before it was 'The Tiger Lily Rose Bar'. Like years Katsu, maybe before I met you." He holds his disappointed boss' gaze before a soft *tch* expels from his lips.

He stalks on, pushing through the double doors to be greeted by several beautiful women, even if they were entertaining guests, their shining faces swiveled to them.

"Welcome!" All smiles and cheery tones as he growled in their direction. Crimson eyes searching over the bodies for any inkling of Kirshima's wife.

Ruby red eyes silently aided his boss, looking over the tops of heads for familiar soft hair only to come up short.

A woman with long black hair with an amazing figure sashays to greet the new guests formally as a short chestnut haired woman slips into the back with a smile plastered on ear to ear.

"Welcome gentlemen. I believe you two are new to The Tiger Lilly's Rose Bar." She smiles and her silky hair slips over her shoulders, pulling two sets of eyes to large, mostly exposed breasts. Both sets return to her face in a quick manner, "May I get a booth ready for you two? What type of women interest you? Or are you all wanting to drink at the bar?"

Katsuki sucks his teeth loudly, looking away for a moment as if this woman was nothing more than an inconvenience.

"I *want* a seat with the main man of this shit hole. You know the owner." He is met with a narrowing gaze.

"This is no shit hole, sir." She bites out the sir, "But I'll be sure to see if *he* is available."

She all but spits he as she approaches the office door, Katsuki and Kirishima in tow, leading them past the plush couches lit under intimate lights.

Some of the men shy away from Katsuki and Kiri, as they are lower ranks of rivals, Tiger Lilly's is supposed to be neutral ground.

But that does not stop them from texting a boss just a few ranks above them of a family head's whereabouts.

"Right this way." The raven haired woman sing songs to keep the venom from her voice as she gently pushes the door to the "office" open. The two men find themselves in a darkened hall way that seems to be ongoing forever as nether can see the end.

"Is this bitch for real?" Katsuki growls, pops coming off of his hands as he goes to turn to give this woman a piece of his mind.

"Momo is far from a bitch." A man's voice echos in the hall, Katsuki turns on his heel to be met face to face with someone he wished he has killed long ago. Shining emerald eyes narrow at the blondes hostility.

"Fucking Deku." He growls leaning forward itching for a fight, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Scarlet eyes don't miss a the three thick bands on the top of his right forearm.

"This is neutral ground remember Midorya?" Kiri offers a sharp toothed smile, although he is still on edge. Heart pounding as his imagination goes wild over his wife's location.

"Unless this little pleb is running this shit. Look at his arm shitty hair." Katsuki snarls, fully getting into a fighting stance. Deku motions behind him with his right arm, revealing long puffy red marks that slash upwards and through the bands, breaking them. Scarlet eyes widen at the sight as the black emerald haired man gives them his back.

"Boss doesn't like fights in the bar. Let's go." He begins to walk as Kirishima swallows his fear nipping at his heels like a herding dog as he follows.

Katsuki sucks his teeth following his friend closely but keeping his eyes on what is seemingly now a *former* head. Katsuki racks his brain, suddenly hyper aware of the hints leading to this.

When was the last time he had run into the scrawny dope or his goons on his territory. In fact he wasn't even sure of the last time he had even heard word of Deku dealing any sort of arms in the past few months.

He bites his lip as they make yet another turn down this labryth before they are met with a thick and dark oak wooden door. Beside the door stand a woman with short chestnut hair, she is petite but voluptuous all the same.

She bows with a smile to Deku who returns it, her sleeves long as if to hide her rank should she even have one.

She was a beautiful woman she most likely was just a favorite servant of the boss for her pretty face.

That's what he had done in the past, that is until she...

Well he wasn't going to think of that right now especially not with the door opening to reveal a large office with a door behind the desk that almost went unnoticed by both men considering it was being swallowed up by papers.

Every where but maybe a foot of the front revealing the dark wood with a golden inlay around the edge.

"Have a seat boys." The voice startles both men, Kirishima more than Katsuki as they enter into the room.

Kiri sits right away keeping his head bowed as Katsuki lingers by the door, removing his jacket tossing it over the leather chair. He begins rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt taking in the room and all the possible exits while he brandishes his three bands. He leaves the woman behind the desk for last. She is gorgeous is the way of average, a flower waiting to bloom and only bloom for the right sun. Her face rests naturally in the tone of bitch even as she writes in looping letters in cold hearted black ink.

"Listen as much as we would *loooove* to sit and wait, we have urgent business with the *head* of the family." Scarlet eyes meet yours, the mesmerizing orbs hold an intensity so great it puts giant stars to shame. You place the pen you were writing with down, eyeing Kirishima who still will not meet your eye and you smirk to yourself.

Thinking about if the shoe were on the other foot. If you were left to be the bigger fool of the two when one knew exactly who you were.

"Ah you're waiting for the head of the family?" You say softly, offering a smile.

"Yes, you're a lovely secretary I'm sure but we arent on the books, we do not *have* an appointment but we will be seen." Katsuki bites darkly edging closer to the desk to meet your gaze.

It does not waver as the tension between the two of you becomes palpable, before you lean back with a cat smirk playing on your plump lips.

"Well you've been seen." You gesture to the only open leather chair beside Kirishima as you lean back in your own blood red chair.

"This aint fucking funny. Do you know who I am?" He growls darkly, "Or is your face making up for what you lack princess?"

"Kirishima, I believe now would be a good time to speak up before your boss further embarrasses himself what with all that vast space between his own ears." You lean forward keeping those scarlet eyes hostage while speaking to the submissive hard headed idiot you once called friend.

"Ah, boss..." He gulps audibly, "She *is* the head of the family."

Bakugou breaks eye contact only to slowly turn his deadly gaze onto what is supposed to be HIS partner, not some lap dog of a bitch who thinks she's tough shit because she runs a whore house. He watches your slender arm move upwards as you make a gesture as you speak but Bakugou can barely hear them over the rushing blood in his ears as he spies the three thick bands wrapped tightly in ink around your forearm, your sleeve just barely previewing your family's inky body suit.

"Now boys who would like some tea?"

Katuski let's out a slow, agitated breath through his nose before he sits.

But not in defeat.

You still ran a whore house in his mind and that wouldn't change until he saw your family's spirit animal. Whether it be a dragon, demon, crane or otherwise dancing in the background of violent ink it did not matter. All Katsuki knew was that it was not going to be a tiger, his father had wiped their one true rival's family from the face of the Earth.

So he would comply for now, you were a new family he was sure as a woman was rarely, if ever, a head even if her husband had passed leaving the power to her.

There was always another man running the show on her behalf, she was just a pretty face so to say. Katsuki smirked to himself easing in his chair as he read your body language getting to work at dissecting it, you were much too relaxed to his liking. His scarlet eyes glided over your curves, you were a thicker woman than most though you wore it well. Muscles toned from hard work although still soft in the right places, at least that's what your low cut black dress told him. Your family markings barely edging beneath the dark fabric, he could tell that yours did not go all the way down your breast and around your nipples like his own. No yours seemed to, what he could only assume, flank down the sides, the color block sure to give the illusion that your already sizable tits were larger than they actually were. The ink seemed to sit snuggly on your collar bone but still all he would need is just a few inches and your family's guide would be revealed.

As if following his eyes you readjust your dress, sure to make your best seller jiggle before bringing your long hair sweeping over your exposed skin.

"Tea should be out shortly, now you said you had to be seen. That much is apparent considering you think my bar is a shit hole." You return to your paper work, no longer needing to give them the respect of your full attention, "Although I'm sure my bar brings in more annually than your net worth Bakugou."

He let's out a sharp laugh.

"You fucking wish." There is no humor in his voice as he stares at you through narrowed slits, you smirk in response.

"The numbers don't lie..." You begin before the door behind you is opened you know without looking, "Ah tea has arrived."

Suddenly the room is filled the echoes of thick chair legs scrapping against wood, Katsuki catches the chair from falling as Kirishima gasps out, ruby eyes glued to bubblegum pink skin.

"Mina!" He breathes as she walks towards the men, seemingly unphased by his presence, setting the cups in front of each male.

"Oh baby has she hurt you?" She does not answer, pouring Katsuki's tea before moving to her husband's cup, "Is she...is she influencing you?"

He reaches for the bare skin of her arm before fingers wrap over his inked bands like a vice.

"Please spare me, her anger is her own," Fingernails bite into skin as a warning before it hardens beneath your touch, "I would be angry too had I found out I was being used as collateral and was never told about it."

"What? You used her for fucking collateral on a loan? Why didn't you fucking come to me?" Katuski grips the arms of the chair as he stands, explosions skittering over his exposed skin.

"I made this deal when I was like 12 I didnt even think I was ever going to *actually* get married!" Kiri shouts back, "I had forgotten about it!"

"And I had been so kind as to give you opportunities to start repaying me but you never took them." You let your fingers slide over Mina's soft skin, "But then you started taking advantage of what was mine. How many birthdays did you let her spend alone while *you* worked?"

Kirishima's mouth stays agape while his own boss watches with disappointed eyes. Before the ash blonde can speak you continue.

"Its not as if Bakugou didn't give you the day off. Hell he gave you a week. So why do these extra jobs behind your bosses back? Could you have been skimming off the top? Or worse were these deals *off* the books?"

You smile as you plant your seed of doubt.

"I..Katuski you've got to know I would never.."

"Shut the fuck up." Katsuki shoves him into his chair, pressing strong fingers into an old idental scar to his own on the red head's opposite forearm , "I know you would never do that to me."

You frown when the roots do not take before Katsuki turns to face you.

"What does he owe?" He asks darkly, encouraging your amusement in Kirishima's torment, elated that his wife is here to hear the figure.

"40 billion." Mina gasps behind you but you continue, "That's with out interest. But we can do the math shall we?"

You pull the original contract from your desk side drawer placing it atop other sprawled out files and open notebooks. The file is inches thick with every additional item that had been added along with the interest.

"I gave him a great rate of 10% and it's been ten years...so 63,330,662,125.39. But again this isn't including late fees. I don't believe he ever made a payment." You sip your tea.

"Madame, may I be excused?" Mina asks, sneering in the direction of what may become her ex husband.

"You may." You take another sip of your tea as you watch Kirishima shrink three sizes smaller in his chair.

"So you took his wife?!" Katsuki yells, "What is she going to have to work for you until she dies?!"

You cross your hands and rest your chin over your laced fingers as you look into those ever burning eyes.

"What would you do if someone owed you money Suki? You'd hurt him by killing his wife first right? But why should a woman pay for the short comings of her husband. Unfair really." You grow bored, readjusting, "Besides she is not tethered to *his* debt. I merely saved her. She is free to make her own rules, free to make her own money and free to leave my care should she wish."

Katsuki slams his hands against the rich wood of the desk, letting unsolicited explosions go, burning fissures threaten to ignite fire to any number of the documents thrown about.

"That's fucking mahogany" You growl darkly before turning to the ruby red head with a genually sweet smile "I'll add that to your tab."

You write it in the cliffs note swiftly adjusting the note.

"Please...." Kirishima begs as he holds onto the muscled arm of his friend, "Boss please...stop."

"You think this little brothel is worth a disagreement with me?" He stares you down, face inches from yours.

"Why dont you ask Deku about that? I believe he had a hot head for a right hand man that convinced him it was. Now look at him." You smile with malice, his mind's eye flashes to the scared flesh on his skin before the asses the woman before him.

"This isn't fucking over." Katsuki is pulled closer to you with some unspoken magnetism whether it is the hate he feels for you or the inability to intimidate you at brings his lips inches from yours.

You do not move away like any other would. You stay perfectly still, like a cat in the tall grass eyes fixated on prey.

"Far from I'm sure." A cat smile ghosting your lips while venom soaks your throat.

[chinawof]

Of All The People... | Self-Para

She’s shocked to hear the sound of the doorbell ringing through their quaint home one Saturday morning. Liam had taken the pups for a walk around the block, and China was nesting away folding and sorting clothes she had already sorted several times before. 

There’s a slight moment of confusion. China knew it wasn’t her own family because they were busy today and had already deterred her from coming over to help them write and record, so who it could have been was lost on her.

Maybe Liam forgot his keys.

She scoffs a slight laugh at the thought, knowing if anyone was forgetful right now it was herself, not him. A gentle pat atop the pile of overly pink sleep suits before she waddles from the kitchen through the hall to the front door.

That’s when another, more impatient, knock is rapped against the wood.

China frowns because if it was Liam he knew she would be slow right now and to give her a moment.

The first tell-tale sign that it was someone else.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Chi huffs softly as she makes her way to the door.

The next knock is louder now she’s behind the door, pulling a huff from her lips.

It brings great satisfaction to her when she pulls it open mid knock. That was until she saw Miley standing there, fist raised, looking pissed and holding some slip of paper in her other hand.

A beat. China looks from Miley to the floor, then back again. Goes to open her mouth and let out a pleasantry when her action is cut off by brash and quick words:

“Liam home?”  

China shouldn’t be as surprised as she is, but she’s stunned, in fact. And definitely at a loss for words for a moment. Apparently a moment is too long, because there’s an impatient cough, and an expectant look. Hands protectively move to rest on her bump for a moment, allowing her head to shake, “No, he isn’t right now.” 

 China doesn’t miss the way eyes roll across from her. Nor the half scoff half laugh that falls from Miley’s lips. 

It’s the fact blues come to settle on the curve of her stomach a moment after that that sets her on high alert. Mama Bear mode activated, as Boo would have told her. Hands subtly wrap more around herself, as if that can keep her daughter away from Miley’s gaze. 

“When is he getting back?” 

Chi could feel the tension thickly hanging between them, frankly, she didn’t like it. Nor did Bean who seemed to want to kick and squirm beneath her mama’s hands. 

“Not too sure,” the lie came easier than China expected. Liam had only gone around the block, he’d be back soon enough, but she knew he didn’t need this today, and honestly she didn’t either. “What did you need him for?” 

She knew it wouldn’t be pleasant, but if she could nip this whole situation in the bud then Liam didn’t need to know, and they could enjoy their weekend before Miley returned. At least she hoped that would be how this would work. 

“Paperwork, he was meant to sign some things, look at a few agreements.” 

Chi’s tongue is subconsciously kissing her teeth, her eyes squint in an analytical way. It’s a lie. Miley was hoping for more. Otherwise she would have just sent the damn mail here instead of showing up, “thought you two were sending that by mail.” It shouldn’t sound as sceptical as it does, at least, China hadn’t wanted it to. 

“I did.” Now Miley’s own teeth are gritted, “but he doesn’t seem to be home to get it most of the time.” 

Lips pull into a mock ‘o’ shape for a second. 

Of course, it had been sent to his LA home, and they hadn’t been there for two months now. It wasn’t much of a home anyway, not compared to this. The nice garden out front where the pups and Bean could play, or the rooms carefully decorated and adorned by the pair of them. Nothing could feel more like home (Except Wyoming, but that was a whole different set of thoughts). 

“I guess we got side tracked.” A soft shrug, hands still so protective on herself, because that gaze fell back to the bump again and then Miley scowled as she looked at the house. How dare she do that. 

“I can see,” it’s the not even masked disgust in her tone that sets China off. 

“Don’t,” her own gaze is steely and stern, still standing in the doorway, not moving to invite Miley in or close the door in her face, “Don’t you dare look like that.”

It’s the laugh that makes her blood begin to boil. Followed by the condescending, “Didn’t look at you in any way, honey.” 

China glares, because as much as there was an age gap here, it was a different time and she wasn’t some eight year old all heart eyed and amazed on Hannah Montana’s set any longer. “Don’t ‘honey’ me.” 

 Miley’s hands raise defensively but she is still smirking as she takes a step back from the doorstep. Scanning the house over with her gaze once again. “Didn’t picture him as a small home kinda guy,” another laugh, this time more malicious than the last. 

Maybe that’s just because you were in it for the money, she thinks for a second, doesn’t dare let it leave her lips. “People can surprise you,” China settles on after a second, because it sounded so much better.

Of course it is met with an eyebrow raise and a look of disbelief. “Yeah, right.” Eyes roll as China finds a new focus of looking down at the ground in front of her bump, “you know he didn’t want this,”

Brown orbs glance up to take in a hand motion that encompassed everything. Her. Their baby. Their home. It took all her will to not move across the lawn and slap the bitch, a hard bite on her lip because it helped to keep the tears at bay.

”You did a great job of trapping him into it though. Made him fall for domestic bliss he never wanted.” Another laugh, bitter and harsh, “you must feel guilty knowing you’ve taken everything he ever wanted and ruined it. Now he’s stuck here with you,” China had done an excellent job of holding herself back, but it was the second part that was added that sent her into a frenzy, “and that thing.”

No one, and she meant no one, would ever get away with looking at her daughter the way Miley did with such hatred and disgust in her gaze.

She doesn’t think as she crosses the threshold of their house out onto the lawn now, hand raised, ready to cuss someone out.

“Who do you think you are?” China’s shouting now, but is cut off by the tell tale sound of a bark. A familiar one.

It must have been only a moment later that Liam comes running down the street and up their pathway, Delta and Dora at his side. “What is happening here?” He’s raising his voice over hers.

“You get no right to waltz over here and try to say you’re better than us.” Chi still shouts now, and she’s moving closer. If she wasn’t pregnant she swore mentally Miley would have her ass handed to her by now.

Of course, it never got that far. Before Chi knew it Liam was between the two of them, passing her the two dog leashes and telling her to go back inside while he handled this.

Just great.

“You’ve handled it for long enough, Liam, now it’s my turn to deal with this,” Chi tried to protest, but there wasn’t much moving past him to get toward Miley no matter how she moved.

Two strong hands are on her shoulders, and blues look into deep browns in an effort to calm her. “China, I’ve got this. Please, go inside.” 

She has to bite her tongue, because the argument was there and waiting to happen, but it doesn’t leave her lips. Instead she sighs. Nods. And waddles in taking the pups with her. She doesn’t miss Delta’s growl at Miley on her way past.

China doesn’t want to close the door, but forces herself to do so, because whatever was about to be said she was sure Liam would tell her later anyway. Unleashing the two dogs, she waddled back to the kitchen and filled their waters up, petting both of their heads tenderly.

That was the first sign of something not being right. The pain shot up and around her back and to her stomach faster than she realised. Chi doubled over the counter, holding her breath for a moment. 

After a few deep breaths it ebbed away, so she straightened back up and went to get some water for herself. A gentle lecture of, “Hey, Bean, lay off okay? We’re fine. You’re safe. Dad’s taking care of it all,” but it seemed to fall on deaf ears, for a few moments later it happened once again. 

China knew something was wrong, that whatever this was wasn’t the normal aches and pains she had been feeling, and after everything that happened, it worried her more.

She also didn’t need to interrupt the yelling she could hear outside of the house. So she settles. Awkwardly on the staircase facing the door, breathing deeply, waiting for Liam’s return. 

There’s no real idea of how much time has passed, but Dora and Delta do come to lie down at her feet after a while, looking concerned, and eventually the door opens, too.

You could tell instantly that he was pissed, jaw set, a frustrated fist against the wood of the door as he closes it loudly behind himself.

“I’m so sorry,” Chi lets out, worried he’s frustrated at her. She knows differently the moment his features relax and he moves to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in his.

“Nothing to apologise for. She shouldn’t have shown up like that or said anything rude about you or the baby.”

China nods, looks down at their connected hands, and sighs. 

“Now, come on. We were going to have a nice day while you were off, let’s make some food and watch some movies.” 

She smiles tenderly, but her eyebrows are still pulled together in a pained way, “I wish we could,” her hand squeezes his at his confused look, “But something isn’t right. I keep getting pains.” China explains, trying to stay calm because she really doesn’t need him panicking right now.

“It’s early, she’s not-” 

China moves to cut him off with a kiss to his lips, “I know, but it is what it is. Let’s go and see what’s happening.” 

She stays seated on the stairs as he moves around her, grabbing a bag China had packed weeks ago now, and a few things for himself, before making sure there were masks and some sanitiser. Before long he’s helping her to stand, and they’re making their way out to the car with a careful, “Behave you two, we will be back soon,” to the confused looking pups.

It’s during the drive to the hospital that China lets the fear be replaced by excitement. The thought they may actually meet their baby girl soon was actually something she was looking forward to, even with all the pain. 

But, of course, it wasn’t meant to be. 

There’s a wait she isn’t comfortable with, and some nerve-wracking tests, but at least Liam is allowed to be at her side throughout it all.

Everything leads to just one little answer: rest.

Bean didn’t seem like she wanted to come within the next few days, but the stress had definitely done something, so no more work, no more arguments, just rest and prep for Bean to arrive.

It’s how, by that afternoon, they are on the road. 

Liam’s carefully packed up the car with their things and they’re driving. Chi doesn’t know where; she’s so tired she sleeps most of the trip. It’s when she opens her eyes in the late night darkness, that she can tell exactly where they are.

Home.

Or, well home away from home.

Wyoming.

She laughs at a strong kick from Bean, a soft, “okay, I know you like it here too,” a hand rubbing over her bump as she leaves the car to find Liam bringing their things in and upstairs.

The sweetness of the moment lasts all of a second before she’s ushered to the master bedroom and told to rest more.

Chi wasn’t sure she was going to get along well with this rest thing at all.

[bleepblopbloop56]

The Murder In The Dressing Room

Chapter 9

Mostly unedited.

Warnings: blood, major character death, guns.

For an update on the situation read this post

"He's so tiny…" Logan laughed lightly, watching as Patton's little hand wrapped around his pinkie, not even closing all the way around it. He tried to pull in his hand to his mouth before Logan tutted and pushed a pacifier in instead. The news that he now had a real human child still hadn’t fully sunk in yet. He was properly accommodated, of course- the apartment was stuffed with cribs, bottles, pacifiers, toys, baby clothes (including Patton’s current light blue onesie dotted with little white cupcakes- which, as a police officer, Logan could say with authority was illegally cute), and diapers galore- but that didn't make it any less terrifying. 

"He looks like a baby doll," Virgil commented, playing with his toes. Patton squealed and drooled around his pacifier.

"He is rather perfect, don't you think?" Logan giggled. A lot had happened in the last few months. Roman had cheated on him, his best friend had died giving birth and he’d had to fight to adopt her child as soon as possible… but now he was here, holding Patton in his home for the first time. 

"Uh oh, is Detective Grey getting all emotional?" he giggled, tickling Patton lightly. "You hear that? Dadda's getting all emotional over you! Your dadda looovesssss yooooou!" he baby talked, punctuating each sentence with a tickle. Patton kicked his little legs the best he could in fits of giggles.

"He loves you so much Patton! He's gonna be the best dad in the whole world!"

 

“Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up,” Logan chanted as if it would actually do something as he shot down the road. He had barely had enough time to shout out directions and get his gear before racing down the street like his life depended on it. If Logan had his way, he'd make the forty minute drive in ten or crash trying.

“Yellow?” Emile's typical greeting was as cheerful as ever, despite the obvious grogginess in his voice. That was what he got for being an old man who went to bed at 6 o’clock. 

“Patton- where is he?” Logan demanded, taking a turn a little too fast and sliding off the road for a moment before straightening out, mumbling obscenities under his breath all the while. How many traffic laws was he breaking? What would he do if he came across another car on the road? Did it even matter? 

“He's in the living room- Logan, what's wrong?” he started sounding more conscious, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. “Are you okay?”

“Go check on him right now," Logan ordered, “and don't let him leave your sight until I tell you its safe.” Another car swerved around him, nearly hitting him. Distantly, Emile could hear a horn honking and Logan shouting curses in return. 

“Logan what's happening?” He shuffled on a robe, pulling himself up and towards the door. A quick peek into the living room verified that the toddler was sleeping peacefully on the baby bed Emile had managed to stuff in his car while picking Patton up. As if he could sense Emile’s gaze, Patton sputtered a bit before rolling over, the picture of peace. “He's fine, fast asleep, but Logan, are you okay?” 

“Go get him. Now. Don't let him out of your sight until I say so, okay?” There was only hesitant silence from the phone. “Okay?!” 

"Okay," Emile whispered back softly. He picked Patton up with shaking hands, shushing him when he started to wake up. But it was to no avail: despite his best efforts, Patton started to cry on the walk back to Emile’s room. "Logan," he pleaded, "just tell me what's going on."

Hearing the sound of Patton's voice made him slow down significantly. Getting killed in a car crash would only hurt Patton; besides, if Logan was going to die, that son of a bitch would have to kill him himself. Logan wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of doing it without putting in the work. 

"There's been a threat... I can't come get him until we know the suspect is in police custody." Logan faltered, his attempt at a neutral voice failing, and he had to clear his throat before continuing. "They got Remy… my partner. We have a significant lead, but that's all I can say. This is all going to be over soon." He didn't mention that by "lead" he meant "I know who killed them and I'm currently speeding to his house to either kill him or get killed."

"What does that mean?" Emile put down Patton on his bed, rubbing his hand through his hair to get him back to sleep. His brother had always told him everything, and him evading the question like this was enough to make him feel as if the world was ending. Logan didn't lie, and he didn't avoid questions. No matter what you asked him, Logan would respond quickly and honestly, even if that answer was I don't know. 

"Someone’s made a threat on Patton's life," he said quietly, pointedly not vocalizing "and mine as well.'' "I need you to double check your doors and windows for me, make sure everything's secure, and call 911 if you hear anything at all, okay?" 

The other end was silent as Emile struggled to think of a response.

"Please be safe" he settled on. Logan nodded, mumbling an "I will" before hanging up, grip on the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. 

"Roman?!" Logan screamed. Distantly, Logan wondered what his colleagues would think if they saw him like this, wild-eyed and hoarse from shouting and breaking down doors in a house he didn’t have a permit to enter. He wasn't clearing rooms, he didn't have his gun in his hand; he was just ransacking the place in a blind panic. All of it went against protocol, and right now he couldn’t care less. "Roman, where are you?!"

His mind jumped back to the text he'd gotten right after he had found Remy’s body. Logan had been standing in his office- the room he worked in nearly every day, defiled by the blood of one of his closest friends- when his phone chimed. He could only stare dully at the words flashing there. 'I can't do this, I'm going home,' they read, and for a second Logan wondered if this was it- if he was going to lose Roman as quickly as he’d gotten him back.

But that hadn’t been Roman. It couldn't have been. Logan wouldn't believe it. And the only thing worse than the idea of Roman leaving was the idea that Roman had left because he was in trouble- that Ethan had gotten to Roman before he could.

Logan froze at the sound of the front door slamming behind him, the noise cutting through even Logan’s shouts. He had known, at the back of his mind, that he was being unforgivably reckless. He had entered Ethan's territory disregarding the fact that he had proven himself more intelligent and capable than any criminal he faced before. But he had still thought that he would get farther than a few rooms into the house before being caught.

And now he was going to die.

"God, this is so fucking sad," a voice hissed, the telltale noise of a gun cocking behind him far too close for comfort. "You couldn't just stay put, could you? I was JUST about to go find you, and now I have to worry about fucking blood stains on my white carpet…"

Logan whipped around, only to freeze again at the sight of the barrel of a gun in his face, Ethan behind the trigger. Ethan kicked him in the stomach before he could reach for his gun, knocking him to the floor. Logan wheezed, desperately trying to regain his breath and get back up, but Ethan loomed over him, pressing his gun to Logan's forehead. 

Logan braced himself. He'd been a detective for a long time- he knew what was coming next.

But Ethan only made a tutting noise, wagging his finger disapprovingly. "Silly little detective…" he laughed. "If you behave, I might just kill you the easy way! Let's not make this harder than it has to be…" He traced the gun down Logan's face, the cold metal gazing his eye and cheek before landing on his lips. "Well, let's see how well you roll over for me. Why don't you give it a kiss, huh?" The look in his eyes dared Logan to say no. Like he wanted to see how long he could drag out his little game before either he or Logan snapped.

It would be beyond degrading to kiss the gun that would most likely end him, to look his killer in the eyes when he was on his knees. But between the choice of humiliation and survival… Logan puckered his lips and lightly kissed the gun. If he could just keep Ethan distracted until backup arrived everything would be okay, it had to be… 

"Good boy!" The sick feeling in Logan's gut only worsened at Ethan's tone- it was as if he was talking to a dog who had successfully performed a trick rather than a human being he was threatening to murder. "Good boys get treats! You know what your treat is?!" He spoke in high trills, happy hisses filled with poison. Logan noticed Dee had scale tattoos crawling up his arm, starting presumably from underneath his yellow glove. "Your treat is a quick and easy death! Do try to keep it down, we don't want the noise to scare Roman. " Dee traced the gun around his face again before pressing it against his temple. He pushed Logan's head gently with the gun, moving until his cheek pressed against the wall, and Logan could tell instinctively that this time Dee wouldn’t hold back.

"Wait!" Logan shouted, the refrain keep him distracted, keep him distracted running through his head. "I want to have another… treat." Over the blood thundering in his ears, a thought reverberated in his head, slamming like a wave against his brain again and again: This is the lowest moment of my life.

Ethan perked up, happy his little toy was playing his game so easily, but the suspicious glint in his eyes told Logan he didn't have long to talk.

"Let me say goodbye to Roman.." The words ached in his chest. Logan knew he had to play up the pathetic factor to get Ethan to humor him, but they came out too honest and real for him to convince himself it was all for show. Somewhere behind the desperation, it was a legitimate request. 

Ethan hesitated like he was thinking about it, clicking his tongue a few times in thought. "I don't know if you've been that good" he said slowly. "I think I'd rather just kill you!" He smiled, and Logan suddenly thought back to the brief personality profile that had been pulled together on him when Roman was deemed a suspect. Everything about Ethan seemed to point to a perfectly friendly, if slightly closed-off, man with a clean record and plenty of friendly acquaintances. Nothing to suggest someone like this..

Logan was out of options, out of time, and he decided if he could just drag this out, just long enough to keep roman alive.. If he could just llay into what ethan wanted from him...

Put on a show… 

He hunched his shoulders and began to cry.

"Please," he begged, hoping that Ethan would enjoy seeing Logan in pain enough to let the scene last longer. Maybe not long enough for Logan to come out of this alive, but long enough for the cops to arrive, long enough to save Roman… "I know I took him from you-" appealing to him directly- "and I know that you're angry, but please… Just let me see him one last time." 

His shoulders were heaving now, real tears falling to the ground. It wasn't just Roman he was crying about- it was all of them. All of the innocent lives taken simply because they knew the wrong people, caught in a spider web of murders only because they had offered a home to Roman or a helping hand to Logan. He cried for how he had screamed and broke things after finding Virgil in the bedroom until he heard the sirens approaching his apartment. How he'd pulled Roman away from his brother, lying in a pool of red, the one and only time Remus had ever been quiet. How he had said goodbye to Thomas one day and then hadn't visited him again until he had been murdered. How not even an hour before now he had seen his partner, his friend, Remy sitting where he did so often, coffee cold on the desk and glasses broken on the floor. How Patton could be next, and by association Emile.

And Ethan laughed.

"Oh, alright!" he giggled, high-pitched and manic. He pushed Logan's chin up with his gun to look at him. "No need to look so pathetic, little detective! This'll be good for Roman, to see you die." 

Logan moved to stand up, but Ethan leaned down and grabbed his hair, shoving him back down. 

"Nuh-uh-uh!" Ehtan chirped, bringing the gun up to Logan’s forehead again and pressing down. "Be a good little boy and crawl for me?”

Logan froze, his thoughts from before echoing. But he had no way out, and they both knew it. Ethan grinned like a hunter watching their prey walk into a trap. "Come on, let’s go." 

It couldn't have been comfortable for Ethan to pull Logan forward through the whole house, but for the pleasure of humiliating his victim, it was worth it. He dragged Logan all the way to the back of the house until they reached a door so small Logan probably would’ve skipped it while searching for Roman. He flipped open the lock and turned the light on one-handedly before starting down the stairs, allowing Logan to walk while keeping a firm grip on his hair.

"Logan?" Roman's voice was scratchy from crying, but it flooded with disbelief, wonder, hope- until he registered who Logan was with. "Ethan, what are you doing, let him go!" he yelled, scrambling to his feet.

Ethan shoved Logan to his feet, sauntering forward to Roman. "Little Detective Grey here cracked the case, and this is his reward! He wanted to say goodbye to his precious little baby." The fake pout in his voice was somehow more disrespectful than anything he'd done so far. Roman's lip trembled heavily, crying despite having no more tears. 

"But I followed the rules!" he pleaded. "I didn't run or yell or call anyone- Ethan, I'm sorry, I'll be good- I followed the rules, please! Please, don't hurt him-" He clutched onto Ethan's shirt, shaking enough to match his stuttering, but Ethan just shoved him off forcefully.

"This is for your own good, Roman," he sneered. "You have sixty seconds to say goodbye. Play nice, boys," He let go of Logan's hair and let him lurch for Roman, like a dog being let off their leash.

"Fifty-eight! Fifty-seven!" Roman began to sob as the countdown started, loud and He started counting down loudly, Logan hushed the apologies and sobs from Roman, trying to get him to quieten down for long enough to hatch a plan. 

"Roman, listen to me, he'll be watching my hands. I need you to grab my gun and when I say go I need you to use it," he mumbled quickly in his ear. He was trembling himself despite trying to keep things together for Roman. "It's loaded- all you have to do is pull the trigger, okay?"

"Logan-" he sobbed, hand fighting Logan's as he led it down and on top of the gun. 

"It's gonna be okay, Roman… I love you," he said quietly, in the background he could tell they were running out of time by Dee's counting, his numbers getting faster and more gleeful as he counted down. 

"I love you too," Roman said through sobs, gun fully slid out of the holster and now in his hand. 

"Ready?" Logan asked. Five seconds left…

"3…  2… 1," Logan counted down alongside Dee, jumping out of the way of Roman as he pulled up the gun and pointed it towards Ethan's chest. 

It was as if time slowed down to make a frozen tableau- Logan slamming into the hard floor, Roman's shaking hands pulling the trigger, Ethan's expression dropping as he was forced to face the consequences of his actions for the very first time. The noise of the gun was deafening within the small basement, ringing in their ears for what felt like hours after it went off.

One shot, straight to the chest, and Ethan was done, flung backwards by the impact.

Roman dropped the gun after he hit him, flinching at the crash of it hitting the floor and wrapping his arms around himself. 

He looked down at the man in front of him, not dead yet but not alive either. In that state of being where Roman assumes you see your life flash before his eyes. Roman wondered what he saw... 

"I'm sorry..." He cried, jerking away when Logan touched him, hitting the wall and closing his eyes, sobbing as hard as when he had seen remus, shaking like he had been dunked in ice water and left in the arctic, and breathing as if he never would again. 

A door above them bursted open police shouting and flashlights searching every room. "DOWN HERE!" Logan called, flashlights shining in his face when they reached the basement door. Roman raised his hands above his head, now a murderer no better than Ethan.

Taglist

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[madamsixx]

Beyond The Leather Chapter 2: Bad Boys

Warnings: Explicit Language

May, 30th 1984, New York

I was done filming for today and had arrived back at my hotel. I didn't feel tired and wanted to go out exploring like I did the weeks earlier when I first came to New York.

"Come oooooooon Tamara please come out with me." I said grabbing her arm.

My manager Tamara who is 33 was my gaurdian whenever I would have to travel. We became really close and Tamara built a good relationship and trust with my family. We both considered each other as friends but we somtimes had a mom and daughter relationship, I liked it.

"Honey I would only go out with you if you were getting a manicure and pedi." Tamara said while looking at her nails. "Why don't you ask my assistant Theresa to go exploring with you?"

"Because she's not as fun as you, besides you have alot of fun with me when we do go out." I walked and sat on Tamara's lap and put her arms around me.

Tamara kissed the top of my head. "How about this, you go out for today with my assistant and then tomorrow I'll go out with you?"

"Ugh, fiiiiiiiiinnnnne." I said getting off of her lap. I stopped to grab my book and headed out the door. ___________

I had no intention of knocking on the assistances door. I was going to go out on my own. Not too many people knew who I was, but there were some that recognized me when I walked the streets. I had walked for a while until I reached alittle diner called Mendoza. It was small with not much people in there and I liked it. I took a seat in the booth and waited for the waiter while grabbing a menu.

"Hi good afternoon Ms what can I get for you?"

"Ummmm, could I get the double cheeseburger with medium fries and this strawberry shake?" I said smiling with all teeth showing. "It looks good."

I knew I wasn't aloud to eat all that much food, so I settled on something small.

"Sure thing, anything else for you Ms?"

"No that will be all thank you."

The waiter brought my food, the smell of it alone had me tackling the food like I was a football player. When I was done I moved my tray to the side, brought out my book The Tailsmen By Stephen King and started reading. It had only been a couple minutes of reading when the door to the diner burst open and in came walking a bunch of guys wearing spikes and leather. There was about 8 of them and they all packed themselves around a table close to me. The waiter came up and took there orders then went back to get there food.

"Check out that chick, fuck shes hot." One of the guys stated.

"Hey I think I've seen her before, like in a movie or something."

"Hey princess." One of the guys started calling out. "Princess are you ignoring me?"

The boys started laughing, hollering, whistling, and making remarks towards me, but I refused to give them any attention. Something Tamara had taught me was to never give disrespectful men your attention. I stuck by that. I kept my face plastered into the book but held my lady like posture.

"What a bitch she's a fucking cunt." Stated one of the guys.

The waiter brought over the boys food. "Here ya go boys just wanted to let you know that I'm a... I'm a...big big big fan." He said while scratching his head.

"Thanks man we love our fans." The one guy grabbed a napkin and signed it for him.

"Wow thanks Nikki appreciate it." The waiter took the napkin and left.

All of a sudden fries came flying one by one hitting me in the head. The boys snickered while they were doing it. I decided to get up and move tables to be far far away from them. As I got up the boys stopped and stared at me. I looked at them with disbelief and annoyance. One guy in particular the "Nikki" guy glared at me with hunger.

What a pig!!

"She looks like a rich snob, like one of those girls who thinks shes better than everyone else." The guy with curly brown hair said.

"She moved away from us maybe we should just leave her alone guys." The tall big blonde guy stated. "I mean our food is here let's just eat." He grabbed his burger and took a bite.

The Nikki guy got up and brought his drink over with him to my booth.

"Hey Sixx just leave her alone." The tall one with teased brown hair said while giggling.

"Hey princess whachya reading?" The nikki guy asked with a smirk on his face.

"A book." I replied in a monotone voice.

"What kind of book princess?"

"A book which requires silence." I stated with the same voice.

"Y'know its rude to not look at someone when they're talking to you princess." He states as his voice got a bit louder.

I could tell he was getting aggravated and angry. More so cause I wasnt giving into what he wanted. Which was my attention.

"Hm you really are a snobby little bitch aren't ya." Crossing his arms and leaning back on the chair with that same smirk.

I finally looked up at him, he had black dyed teased hair with red streaks on the right side, he had piercing green eyes that shot daggers at me, and I couldn't even lie he was attractive. But im young, and even if I wasn't he would definitely not be my type of guy. I would never associate my self with somone like him. I mean.... what is he??? And I still wasnt going to give him my attention. I waved my hand signaling for the waiter.

"Hi can I have my bill please this place is packed with dogs and losers with no respect and I can't focus on my reading, thank you." I smirked while looking at the Nikki guy.

The waiter stared at me then at the Nikki guy. "Focus on this you cunt." He said as he splashed his drink in my face.

"You bastard." Forget about not getting my attention...he got it!! "How dare you!" I leaped over the table and grabbed his hair and started swinging my fist. I also grabbed my purse and started hitting him with it.

That was a bad idea because my stuff inside my purse started flying everywhere. His boys ended up running to the table trying to separate us and hollering and laughing.

"Get this fucking crazy bitch off me Robbin NOW!"

I yelped as somone grabbed me off of the table and had me dangling in the air with my feet not touching the ground. This guy was big and really tall.

"Hey I'm gonna call the police!" One customer yelled.

"Fuck off." A short blonde guy said.

"Alright boys let's go, shes a physco bitch." The nikki guy said as he fixed himself up. The boys headed for the door.

I bent down to start picking up my stuff off the ground. How dare these guys treat me like that. They obviously didn't grow up with home training. What a bunch of...

"I can help you pick your stuff up."

My thoughts were interrupted by the guy who had me dangling in the air.

"Thank you but no thanks, you better head out with the rest of your friends." I said looking up at him.

"I'm very sorry for how we treated you it wasn't right and I'm.. I'm really sorry." He said helping me to my feet.

What a gentleman.

"I'm Robbin... Robbin Crosby." He stuck his hand out for me to shake.

"I'm Iman Darlington nice to meet you." I replied taking his hand and shaking it.

The door burst open again revealing the very angry Nikki guy who splashed the drink in my face.

"Robbin leave that fucking crazy bitch and let's fuckin go!" He banged on the door. Robbin let my hand go and ran out.

I went to the front counter and called Tamara's assistant Theresa to come and pick me up. As I got into the car I told her everything that happened. She was shocked and couldn't believe it. Neither could I. We got back to the hotel and some stuff of mine were missing. I couldn't find my book or key. So I stayed in Theresa's room for the night. I also asked her not to tell Tamara anything that happened and she agreed. I showered and got into bed with Theresa. I hoped to God that I would never have to see those hooligans again.