#I have nothing else to add - everyone else covered it!

[rabnerd28]

Fulton Cats Write Up, Opinions and Headcanons

Alright y'all, I traveled across multiple state lines to once again see a production of Cats...look we already all knew I was a little freak for this show when went all the way to NYC for the Jellicle Ball and saw the Circus Cats that was local to me seven times, this is nothing. I saw the show from the gallery and the front row so I'll try to explain from both, but I'll clarify if it's one or the other specifically I'm mentioning. Also gonna include some theories and opinions after the summary, as well as few pics. Feel free to send me asks afterwards if you want to know more.

This is a long one guys, grab the popcorn. Spoilers ahead!

The set was so cool y'all! Obviously it's an abandoned amusement park, but they put a lot of detail into it. I'll have photos at the bottom but there was a way for the cats to get from the set to the second floor via the stage. There's also a giant sign over the stage that say "Jellicle Park". I couldn't see it from the front row because it was right overhead, but everywhere else you could see it. Lightning was also randomly flashing like there was a thunderstorm.

There's is an announcement for the start of the show playing like there's a severe weather warning for an amusement park.

Grizabella then crawls onto the stage and up to a large box. She takes off a tarp and it had Mistoffelees and Grizabella's names on it. She goes in one end and out the other sadly. She then takes the tarps off of carousel horses and each time she takes off a tarp a part of the Jellicle Songs intro plays.

Should also add that there is no overture in this production.

She then makes her way over to another box and opens it, pulling out a dress that she is wearing.

Sillabub then pops out of the box and says hello. At the matinee a cover was on, and she just had the Etcetera make up on, so I was expecting that for the evening show. But when Sillabub popped out of the box all blue I actually gasped. Yay, full cast!

Griz then runs off and Sillabub picks up her dress, but hides it when Munkustrap comes out. The Jellicles then all start popping out for Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats.

I'm gonna be honesty guys, the second Bombalurina popped out I didn't really register most of what else was going on this song, because I just fell in love and kept watching her. I told myself I wouldn't do that at the evening show, but you're never gonna believe what happened.

The cats all gathered in groups and spaced out like a choir for where they would normally get on the tire, and then Mugojerrie starts messing around and instead of the boot drop he's breaking form and singing part of "Please Don't Stop the Music" by Rihanna.

Bomba and Alonzo were pretty close this number and I thought they were going a Bombalonzo route, but that turned out not to be true, so you can scratch that.

Bomba and Tugger also did a dance together, with him lifting her at one point.

When I was in the gallery they actually sent the OC Cats up there to interact with the audience, so everyone gets some fourth wall breaks regardless of your place in the theatre. There was also the mezzanine and they sent Cats up there via the set, as it extended out to entrances there.

Tugger calls out the man over there, and they have a random member of the front row get picked for this role as they shine a spotlight down on him...two nickels.

Munk starts out Naming of Cats, then Bomba takes over reciting the first names. Alonzo comes out and cuddles her leg when she says his name. Demeter then takes over for the second set of first names, being very cheery when she says her own.

The cats whose names are said during the second type of name each say their own name. Then for the third name they all crawl forward to the edge of the stage and reach out into the audience. Me and Alonzo had a starting contest.

We then lead into the white cat solo and Tori's dance is very reminiscent of Gillian Lynn's choreography and has a few moves that are the same.

There are actually quite a bit of Gillian's choreography in this one, not the whole thing, but there are random bits.

Munk then does Invitation to the Jellicle Ball and intros the ball.

Quaxo then comes forward and he does Munkustraps part for the Old Gumbie Cat, being the one to nominate Jennyanydots for the Jellicle Choice.

She's in a little hat and a yarn dress that makes her look older. The gumbie trio plays it pretty straight. The mice are Sillabub, Etcetera and I think Electra, coming out with sunglasses and walking canes, basically being three blind mice.

When it's time for the tap break, Quaxo announces that Jenny may not look like much now but she used to be the star of the park. A curtain then comes down and we enter a flashback sequence. Several of the male cats come out in glittery gold sequined suit jackets, and have tap shoes on.

Jenny then comes out and she's wearing a sparkly cold outfit in her tap shoes, and they do some very impressive tap routines. Which included one where the boys formed a line and Jenny got on into a push up position and they would hop over her as she went down the line.

Jenny then goes into the audience and flirts a little with an audience member, and thanks them for coming.

The curtain comes up and it's Tugger time! I think it was Carbucketty who called his name.

Very good job on the number, lots of great choreography, Tugger was very much flirting with everyone and all the cats were excited to see him.

Cori and Tanto get the "Terrible Bore" line and they are not at all impressed by him.

There's a point where a couple of the guys are copying Tugger and doing his moves, and Mungojerrie gets too excited about and starts cutting into Tugger, so Tugger has to push him back.

Tugger dances and dips Demeter, which she is all excited about when she goes to join Bomba. Bomba dislikes this and does her Terrible Beast line and section with Tugger. Demeter is upset by this in the background and gets happy when Tugger rejects Bomba...somehow I will make this Demelurina.

At the end of his number he starts breaking the 4th wall and flirting with the audience. He asks if guests in the front row were "regretting those first row tickets" and I'm just like, if you looked two seats over you would see someone not regretting those front row seats (it's me!).

For the end, Mungojerrie one again interrupts Tugger where normally one of the kittens would scream, so Tugger hip thrusts into his face to get him to stop.

Grizabella then appears and Misto and Jenny are very happy to see her, but quickly hide that they're happy when they notice how upset the others are.

Sillabub is very curious about Grizabella and the rest of the cats are in pause as Demeter sings her part of Grizabella the Glamour Cat to Sillabub to explain who she is. It then unpauses as Bombalurina sings her part.

Bombalurina is the one to stop the Cats the most when they reach for Griz, and chases her off. Tantomile and Coricopat judge her for this.

Bustopher Jones then arrives in a blue car, and Jenny and Jelly sing their parts. Bomba doesn't sing this time and the "remarkably fat" line is sung by Bustopher himself.

He then gets on the hood of the car for his part, and Bomba is also on the roof as he sings.

When he comes down the cats bring out dishes and he goes to each one before deciding on the last and grabbing a candy apple.

He then gets back in the car and does his toodle pip line before the last line the rest of the cats have and then drives off.

Macavity scare and all the cats exit the stage and we hear Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer giggling.

The two appear in the sides that go into the audience and play flashlight tag with each other. Mungojerrie then shines it over the audience and says "wow this audience is much better looking than the previous evening/matinee's" depending on which show you see. I was at both Jerrie, am I hot or not!

The two then crawl along the front row and making commentary on the stuff the patrons put on the ground, before they pop up having stolen something from an audience member. At the matinee Mungojerrie stole a bag and my thought was, wow that's gonna be real close to where I'm going to be sitting for the evening show...so it was exactly where I was sitting. I think they pop up once they meet in the middle, and Teazer stole my Jellicle Ball fan!

Then once items were returned Teazer does a handstand on my arm rest! Y'all I had such a good time here!

Noticed that Jerrie had a bi flag cat patch on his little vest, so good for him.

The number was really high energy and funny and overall great. After the ming vase "broke" Jerrie told Teazer to blame it on the dog. She also gets super annoyed when he tries to take all the credit for their misdeeds and they end on the tandem cartwheel.

The rest of the cats don't come out to scold them so they keep playing flashlight tag as they go offstage.

Cori and Tanto come out and are the one to announce Old Deuteronomy. They then make Misto go and retrieve him, as the cats sing the beginning portion portion before Munk and Tugger take over for their parts. Munk is on the stage while Tugger is on the upper level as they do this.

Old Deuteronomy then announces that it's time for the Jellicle Ball to begin, so no Macavity scare as they go into Song of the Jellicles and the Jellicle Ball.

The one thing I specifically remember from Song of the Jellicles is that Bomba was the one to sing the "You would say we have nothing to do at all" line instead of Tugger.

The jellicle ball was pretty good.There were a lot of group dances and quite a few partner dances. At the start of the Honky Tonk section Tugger yells "Party Time" and all the Cats start ramping up.

Early on, many of the older cats sit towards the back and it seems that Bomba is directing the younger kittens in doing a dance. Carbucketty coming up to her afterwards and Bomba giving her some praise for her dancing.

More of the cats dance and Old Deuteronomy then picks Victoria to do her own dance, and she ends up dancing with Alonzo.

Alonzo and Victoria are pretty clearly meant to be a couple as they start dancing together. Bomba and Tugger are also doing a dance together behind them, till Tori and Alonzo walk off. Tugger and Bomba get very sexual during their dance and the go off when Tugger lifts Bomba onto his shoulder...won't lie it was a very suggestive position.

Alonzo and Tori then dance together again as four Cats on carousel horses are pushed out and moved around till they all meet in the center display that Munk and Misto are on.

Alonzo and Victoria do the Pas de Deux which does include a couple of steps from the original, specifically Tori getting lifted completely upside down over Alonzo's shoulder. Alonzo also lifted Tori a few times earlier.

We then get into a cuddle pile, and I can't tell you most of the couples, but I can say that there sure were a lot of Cats onstage. Also that Cori was hooking up with a male cat and I pretty much only noticed because it was three feet in front of me. I think the other cat was Johnathan, but don't quote me on that.

At the end of the ball, instead of leaving, the cats all head to the back of the stage to rest and the Misto/Griz box is out as the stage gets dark.

Grizabella then appears and steps through the back of the box. She comes out the front, but it's a younger version of herself played by Sillabubs actress. She does a little dance, and then steps back through the box. When she steps out again she is her usual self.

She sings Memory and then the lights go up as all the cats wake up. Mistoffelees is excited to see her and goes over to her, but once he sees that everyone else isn't happy about it he stays at a distance.

Bomba goes over to shoo her away while Sillabub goes to touch her, but both are stopped by Old Deuteronomy, and we basically go into a freeze frame as act 1 comes to an end.

Act 2 begins right where we left off, Old Deuteronomy lets go of Sillabub and Bombalurina and is very angry at Grizabella. He sings Moments of Happiness as the other cats watch. He then indicates that she should go.

She starts to leave but Sillabub starts singing Moonlight. The other cats join in except for Old D and Bombalurina. Bomba ends up being the only one standing and looks around confused at them all as they sing.

Griz and Sillabub go to touch each other again, but Bomba gets in the way and hisses at her to leave. Griz then runs off and Bomba turns back expecting all the other cats to be okay with her decision, but they're all mad at her. She expects some reassurance from Jenny or Demeter but gets none. She then runs off and is gone for Gus through Skimbleshanks.

Alonzo looked like he was gonna go off after her, but ends up staying with Victoria.

We then begin Gus the Theatre Cat. For the most part played pretty straight, but the "scream" is a little baby meow. And at one point all the cats assume Gus is done, but then he keeps going and they all return to paying attention to him.

For Pekes and the Pollicles, Jelly gives an intro, saying that Gus is her grandfather and talking about how his best role was that of the Rumpus Cat. A curtain comes down indicating that this is a flashback.

Gus is meant to be in a dressing room getting ready when the "actor" who plays the police dog comes in drinking. Gus scolds him for it and takes his flask, proceeding to chug it himself.

He puts on a shakespearean era outfit and the curtain goes up where the pekes and pollicles are fighting. They're also in the same style of dress, but are wearing dog masks, with the backdrop being an old England town.

They took out the section that's racist, good call, and to make up for time included part of the instrumental from Growltiger.

More pekes and pollicles comes out, and at one point the police dog appears with a flip, only to just walk offstage.

Gus then jumps out for his Rumpus Cat part, but quickly becomes distracted and talks to the audience, making a lot of cat puns. "Tabby or not Tabby", listing musicals he's been in - The Great Catsby, Mewsies, Les Meowsirables - and then making puns over what drinks to buy the audience before Jelly reminds him that he's supposed to be acting right now.

He then does the Rumpus Cat, and when they're supposed to scatter like sheep he makes them all leave while they bleat like sheep.

As the number comes to an end the cats surround Gus and do a slow clap as it returns to no longer being a flashback.

A train whistle goes off and it's Skimbleshanks time y'all!

He comes in on a handcar, and he's got on suspenders.

Quaxo, Munkustrap and Tugger are the ones to do lead vocals on the number, taking turns for singing certain sections and lines.

All the cats grab pillows and for most of the number they pretend to be passengers on a sleeping car. Tugger and Munk have a little pillow fight at one point.

Skimbleshanks jumps into Coricopat arms at some point, and Cori is so unimpressed he just drops Skimble after a minute.

Their train car is them forming four lines, with the last line holding umbrella's for the wheels, two cats at the front who hold a banner for the "Jellicle Railway", and Admetus in the front holds a light that shines right in my face...front row is great guys! Skimble is also lifted on the shoulders of two other cats.

Macavity time now. There's a scare as most of the run off, Bomba returns and Demeter gets all excited. Macavity then jumps out of a magic box, and runs around the stage a bit before going off.

Demeter then excitedly tells all the remaining cats about Macavity. She is very much into him in this version. During the break between her two verses, Macavity swings on the planks of the coaster in the background before disappearing again.

After Demeter's ends it's Bomba's turn and she is less into Macavity. It feels very "Yeah, he's hot, but have you considered that he also sucks and no one should go near him."

The other girls then do the part where they say his list of crimes. I remember Jenny, Sillabub, Victoria, Rumpleteazer and Jelly being the cats, but don't quote me on that, but I know there was also at least one more.

Macavity then appears after the song, and the cats scatter till it's just him, Demeter and Bombalurina.

Demeter wants to go to Macavity, but Bomba pretty much makes her leave. She and Macavity then enter a slight stand off, but when she goes to leave Macavity grabs her.

She realizes that he's trying to kidnap her, and tries to fight him off, but calls for help. Several male cats arrive to save her just as he climbs on top of her and they pull him off.

The macavity fight is done with several male cats, can for sure say Tugger, Munk and Alonzo plus three others I don't remember which, fighting him as the stage is in darkness. There would then be flashes of light around the stage that would show part of the fight as it was happening in a very cinematic way.

Old Deuteronomy then steps in and gets everyone off of Macavity. Macavity then holds his claws to Old D's neck and kidnaps him. Bomba is the only one to say the "Macavity's not there" line.

Post Macavity Bombalurina and Demeter do a little reach out, but Bomba just goes to check on Alonzo...I never thought I'd say this about a Cats production, but the Demelurina is really disappointing.

Tugger then suggests calling Misto, which all the cats doubt him on. Tugger, simp that he is, then starts Mr. Mistoffelees.

Misto appears on the second floor out of an entryway for a broken down ride, and gives a little presto before climbing down.

Once he gets on stage he gets to do his dance break. Occasionally he would go over to Tugger and get a little bit of approval for his dancing...this is the most Tuggoffelees in this who show guys, we're not thriving here either.

AND HE DOES THE 24 FOUETTÉS! Guys, it was so good! For those that don't know, Misto in this production is played by Paul Giarratano, who was also Misto in US Tour 6. But the tour had the same choreo as the Broadway Revival which cut the fouettés from 24 to 12. So it was really awesome to see them live! I literally went "wait was that the 24?" at the matinee and counted them during the evening just to be sure. He might have done 25 or I slightly miscounted.

Misto brings back Old D, by summoning his box and the Old D bursting out of it. I've seen three non-replica's in the past year and they all used the box to get Old D back. Maybe it's the new non-rep standard.

Misto did the run and jump hug to Old Deuteronomy, aw.

They then send the cats up to the gallery and mezza...I don't know how to spell this, second floor and have them drop balloons down on the audience. They then spread throughout the theater for the audience to throw around. The cats also went out into the audience like they normally do for the number and Cassandra was right in front of me as she sang.

Old Deuteronomy and Tugger seemed to be having vocal battle during the ending part of Mr. Mistoffelees.

Munk then announces that it's time for Old Deuteronomy to make the choice and Grizabella appears.

Misto then makes time stop for everyone except Sillabub and Griz. Sillabub then crawls towards Grizabella as she sings Daylight and when Misto un-pauses time Grizabella is allowed to sing Memory for her chance at a new life.

Munkustrap and Tugger help her get onto one of the boxes to do so...they are touching her, I would like to point that out.

She sings Memory, Sillabub sings her part, and just before "Look a new dawn has begun" Sillabub grabs her hand.

Bombalurina then comes forward and Sillabub lets go expecting Bomba to chase Grizabella away again, but Bomba then takes both their hands and puts them back together. The three then go to the side as Old Deuteronomy goes to make the choice.

Jenny and Gus stand on either side of him, with Quaxo and Jelly with them, sort of as their sponsors, and when Old Deuteronomy looks to each of them, they both deny their chance at being the choice. Which means that Grizabella is made the Jellicle choice. Shocking, I know.

She is then put in a roller coaster car, and Misto uses his magic to move the car, and it goes up the wooden coaster on the stage. There was a projection of a coaster on the background of the set, and it's zoomed forward, and we see an animation of the car going through it before flying off into the night.

The Ad-dressing of Cats had each of the cats sit and listen to Old D, with a spotlight getting shined on each one for them to stand up. In the highest part of the set you can see Macavity in the background watching the whole thing.

They separated Demeter and Bomba for the curtain call...no one is suffering more than me.

I did get to meet some of the OC actors after the show, specifically Merlin, Ivy and Juniper. Embarrassed myself by asking one if Fantasia was a reference to the Warsaw production. The ensemble member was not gonna know this RAB. *smack hand in face emoji*

If you do go see this production go to Hershey Park the next day to have the full amusement part experience, that's what I did.

Set Photos

Things I learned via Internet

Sillabub is the daughter of Grizabella and Munkustrap. Grizabella left when Sillabub was a baby so she doesn't remember her, and Munk was left to raise Sillabub on his own, but with the help of everyone else.

Tugger and Macavity are brothers. Old Deuteronomy is for sure Macavity's father, but unknown for Tugger.

Mungojerrie, Rumpleteazer and Skimbleshanks are Jelly's kittens. If I had nickel for every non-rep where Skimble was Jelly's kids.

Demeter and Plato are in a relationship.

Tugger and Munk aren't brothers in this, but they are best friends.

Headcanons

Bombalurina is Bustopher and Grizabella's daughter. This would make her Sillabubs older sister as well.

I've landed on Alonzo and Bombalurina half siblings via Bustopher.

Carbucketty is a Bomba kitten. She's very close to her in certain moments during the Jellicle Ball and Bomba looks to be encouraging her. It's very cute.

Demeter and Electra might have some relation. I'm mostly basing this on how similar they look.

Some Opinions

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer are so perfect in this it's not even funny. Just the perfect little guys who are there to mess around and have fun. Mungojerrie is just also so funny.

One again we have the non-replica Bustopher Jones problem, of them constantly making it about the food. *Deep sigh* It's not as bad as some others, but at the same time, why is the Jellicle Ball the only non-rep that doesn't do this?

Bombalurina my beloved! For once I wasn't thinking, "man this needs more Bomba" because there was so much Bomba! I love her so much! She has a lot to do, and she's so protective of everyone, and I just love how conflicted she is at times. On the other hand...

There's stuff in this I dislike, but I can be pretty forgiving towards it, but there is one thing I absolutely hate about this production, and that's what they did to Demeter. Because she is literally a completely different character. And if they just made her have less anxiety, or made her calmer, I could live with that. But like, all of her actions are basically the exact opposite of Demeter. Demeter's not into Tugger, in this one she's into Tugger. Demeter's normally scared of Macavity, now she wants him oh so bad and in no way conflicted over a past relationship with him. Demeter has a connection to Grizabella that is clearly very complex, god forbid we have that and the only thing that stays the same in regard to that is her singing Grizabella the glamour cat. Her role in the story is just non-existant to the point where you might as well not even call her Demeter. Literally, I memorized who she was from the photos and I still kept questioning if that was her just because of how different she is. And there's been other productions that have made changes to Demeter, but normally I can see the logic behind it, but I don't know why they did this to her, when all it does is make her not Demeter.

I also felt like they would do more with the connection they were trying to make between Grizabella and Misto. IDK, it was there in moments, but he doesn't even really say goodbye to her at the end when she goes to the Heaviside Layer.

I'm officially done with productions making Sillabub or Old Deuteronomy be the one to touch Grizabella. Like, I get it, we all know that ALW was horny for Sarah Brightman which caused Jemima and Victoria to be the two characters that they are, but we can't just try and put them back into one character again. Remember, Tom Hooper did that and it didn't go well. You don't have to make it Tori if you make another character the physical aspect of your show, but at least make it someone who's thing hasn't been pretty much just trying to convince the others that she should be the choice the whole time.

Overall I did really like this production, and I do like that it changed things up in some areas. Just the stuff I dislike ends up being stuff I really dislike rather than just not having a preference for it like I normally would.

[themoonking]

see someone spreading misinformation about ancient greece online, gently correct them, they say "well discerning whats canon and whats fanon in greek mythology is really difficult". i am killed instantly.

[eufezco]

DINNER WITH FRIENDS𓂃 𓈒 ❀

thunderbolts*!bucky x fem!pregnant!reader

synopsis – when bucky returns home he's not alone and a quiet evening turns into a full house. seven months pregnant and unprepared, you're caught off guard but family is family.

a/n – this is just a little scenario that crossed my mind when i got out of the cinema after watching thunderbolt* for the fourth time. pleasee send me bucky requests i want to write for him but i have like 0 ideas. writing this i realized that i've oficially fallen for the john walker propaganda 😞

fluff

it was later than usual and bucky stil hadn't come home.

rebecca was in her room, playing quietly as she waited for her dad. you were in the kitchen. dinner was already done so with nothing else to do, you found yourself rearranging things on the counter, trying to distract your mind from the worry. you rubbed your seven-month pregnant belly as if it were a magic lamp and you were wishing for him to return. and then you heard the front door creak open.

—bucky? —you moved quickly out of the kitchen but you stopped on your track when you saw he wasn't alone.

—yeah, it's me.

—oh my god, —you breathed before he could finish talking, your hand flying to your chest. you weren't expecting five people with him. their faces familiar yet you'd never met them in person.

bucky stood in the middle of the group, his lips pressed together in a guilt line. he knew full well you weren't expecting this and that he should've warned you beforehand, but he hadn't known they'd all need a place to drop by on the same night after the same mission.

he'd hesitated, worried about adding more stress when you were already seven months pregnant. but then he thought of home and you and rebecca and how it might be the one thing that could soften the edges of everything they'd been through that day. and god help bucky, you'd told him a million times you'd love to meet them.

so here they were. on your doorstep. in your hallway.

—hi, —you said to them. you blinked, caught between surprise and disbelief.

bob waved his hand. yelena, ava and john pressed their lips together.

—oh, hi john —you knew john. he and bucky had caused each other a lot of headaches in the past, but you were glad that at least now they tolerated each other. john showed you a little smile.

alexei made his way through the group and approached you with open arms. you raised your eyebrows and just let the big man cover you in a hug. he smelled like vodka and leather but surprisingly, he was really careful with your belly as he hugged you.

—mrs. barnes, the wife of the soldier, oh, it's so nice finally meeting you, —he said with a rough russian accent. —behind every great man is a great woman, they say. a greater woman, may i add.

as he held you, you caught all the other faces around the room, all rolling their eyes. you giggled when he finally released you, alexei was just as dramatic as bucky described him. —thank you, alexei.

—you know my name, she knows my name! —he turned to tell the others. they gave him plain nods and lazy smiles.

—of course, everyone knows your names now. plus, bucky talks about you five all the time.

bucky closed his eyes and ava grinned and nudged him with her elbow.

—yelena, right?

you approached the blonde girl standing next to bucky. she had the same stormy look in her eyes as him, she could definitely be his little sister. she looked at bucky a little unsure when you called her name, almost as if for reassurance. she hadn't wanted to come at first, she didn't want to cross that line, didn't want to step into something as private and sacred as his home.

yelena nodded to your question. you softened your expression and offered a warm smile. bucky caught her hesitation and he gently pressed his hand to her back, giving her an encouraging push. you opened your arms and puller her into a hug before she could think too hard about it. she tensed for a moment but then her arms came high around you, as if she was afraid of even brushing your belly.

you hugged ava, careful not to press against her delicate suit. you'd heard enough from bucky to know how sensitive the tech could be and how guarded ava was underneath it.

bob was so ready when you hugged him and welcomed him to your house. he'd seen bucky's photos of you, the lock screen on his phone. he knew how after every operation, buck's first texts were always to you, checking in, making sure you were safe and letting you know that he made it out alive. if bob had the power of one million exploding suns, he was certain it still wouldn't match how fiercely bucky loved you. and that gave him hope.

you smiled before you hugged john. he wasn't sure if you'd want him in your house, after all, he'd been a pain in bucky's ass but hey, in his defense, bucky had been just as much of a pain in his. still, you welcomed him.

and the best for last. as the rest inspected your living room, looking at the photos and tripping over rebecca's toys, bucky stood with the most exhausted expression on his face. he stepped closer and let his head fall against your shoulder. one of your hands went to the back of his head, fingers slipping into his hair.

—long day?

bucky just hummed.

—how was yours?

—good. the baby barely kicked after last night, —in that moment you felt bucky's hands come to rest on both sides of your belly, his thumbs rubbed slow circles, up and down, protective, telling the baby he was finally home, taking care of his mom. —and rebecca drew alpine. with eight legs and no ears. she's very proud.

he breathed a laugh, —sounds about right.

bucky's friends were busy, the five of them around a photo frame on the wall. the only photo you had of bucky from 1940s, stiff and young in his uniform soldier, eyes still full of something bright that hydra hadn't yet extinguished.

he lifted his head from your shoulder and you cupped his cheek, your thumbs brushing over his rough beard. you pressed your lips softly against his, as if you were trying to transfer all the calm and love he'd missed during the day. as you pulled back, you noticed his shoulders dropped, releasing the tension, but the worried expression remained.

you reached up again, brushing your thumb over the line of his cheek as bucky's arms wrapped around your body, resting on the small of your back and pulling you closer to him, carefully, until he could feel your belly pressed against him, a connection between the three of you.

—talk to me, —you whispered.

he sighed, —didn't want to bring the day home, but they needed a place... and i couldn't leave them on the street. i didn't want to add more into it, not in your state.

you smiled. so it was that.

—you did the right thing, buck. they're family. if they needed somewhere to go, then they're welcome here. they'll always be.

bucky pressed his lips together. his two families. the one he fought beside and the one he came home to.

he'd never called them that before, not even in his head. they cared about each other in the quiet, protected one another during missions and watched each other's back in battle. they stood between each other and the line of fire and carried each other when the mission left someone too hurt to stand.

it doesn't matter if bucky never said the word, they were his family.

he slowly nodded at your words, —it was supposed to be just bob... didn't expect all of them to show up at once.

—well, neither did the couch, —you teased, getting a soft laugh from him.

ava caught both your eyes as she turned from the wall where she'd been quietly observing young bucky's photo.

—you were so clean-shaven, it's almost like seeing you naked.

you burst out laughing just as bucky groaned beside you, head dropping on your shoulder again like the comment physically wounded him.

—look at that jawline, it could cut glass, —bob said, squinting his eyes at the photo, hands on his hips.

—sharp enough to be a war crime, —you kissed the top of bucky's head. he lifted it slightly, oh so you were joining them now?

—were there toothpaste ads back then? because you sure look like one. fight fascism and fight plaque.

—that's the image of a man! of the soldier! a hero! —alexei boomed, gesturing toward the photo like it belonged in a museum.

—yeah, a man that gave speeches on liberty bonds or punch hitler.

—i did punch hitler, —bucky said flatly, barely looking up.

—how many times are you gonna bring that up?

—as many as it takes, john.

—you should put that on a t-shirt, —john continued, —i punched hitler and all i got was this brooding personality.

you noticed yelena's attention was on the rest of the photos. the teasing in the room faded to a hum behind her.

her eyes moved from frame to frame, pausing on each one. a photo from your summer in wakanda, bucky with his hair tied back, sunlight turning the metal of his arm into gold as rebecca sat on his shoulders, his hands steady at her ankles. next to that was a shot of the hospital room, bucky still in scrubs, circles under his eyes, holding his daughter for the first time. all memories you'd been building through the years. not all of them were easy, not all of them looked like picture frames. it was what yelena had been looking for all her life.

—bucky, —yelena called him, getting everyone's attention. the teasing died down completely when everyone looked to the stairs.

rebecca stood halfway down, clutching her uncle sam captain america's plushie, her socked feet fidgeted against the step like she wasn't sure if she wanted to go back up or keep coming down. her thumb hovered near her mouth the way it only did when she was unsure of something.

—damn, she definitely is your daughter, —yelena said to bucky.

the little girl was a small version of bucky. blue deep eyes, brown hair that curled at the ends in soft waves, the way she looked at everyone without saying a word, just like bucky always did. she had that look on her face just like his, the one where even though she wasn't talking, it showed that her mind was moving fast, watching everything and everyone.

mostly, she looked overwhelmed. strangers filled her living room, standing loud, tall, unfamiliar in the space she knew as home. until she saw bucky. her bucky. she didn't hesitate. she ran down the stairs, her little feet pounding against the steps. without hesitation, she threw herself into her dad's arms, wrapping her small arms tightly around his neck. bucky lifted her effortlessly, smiling big as he held her close.

—oh, you definitely ate all of your veggies today, bug, you got stronger, almost knocked me off my feet.

rebecca's giggles filled the room. the others stood nearby, watching the scene, unsure how to react to seeing bucky all soft. even alexei, who rarely blinked at anything, went unusually still. you rubbed your daughter's back as she tucked her face in bucky's neck, her little fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt, when she realized all eyes were on her.

—she's a little shy at first, but when she gains a little confidence, you'll be begging her to stop talking, —you explained to the group, half apologetic, half proud. they all nodded and smiled, understanding. —'becca, these are dad's friends. they're here just for tonight. you okay if they stay a little while?

she gave the smallest nod, still hiding her face in bucky's neck. he turned, holding her against his body, toward the rest of the group.

—boss says you can stay, —bucky announced.

yelena let out a yay, bob mumbled a sweet thank you.

rebecca peeked a little from the crook of bucky's neck, her eyes finding john first. he offered her a small, friendly wave. she hesitated but she ended up lifting her hand a mimicking the motion.

—out of all of them, —bucky murmured, more for john to hear than to her, —you had to wave to walker first?

john of course heard it and rolled his eyes.

in that moment your feet started to hurt more than you realized. too much standing for a seven months pregnant. you shifted your wight, trying to ease it, but even the small movement sent a bolt of discomfort up your spine. one of your hands instinctively moved to the curve of your belly and the baby fluttered under your palm, not a kick, just a little roll.

bucky noticed, but not just him, everyone in the room did.

—you okay? —ava asked.

—you should sit, —yelena added.

alexei immediately grabbed the nearest chair to him as bucky carefully lowered rebecca. —okay, bug, let's help mama, —he approached you, wrapping his metal arm around your body and helping you sit carefully.

rebecca stood, clutching with her captain america plushie tightly as her eyes flicked between john, bob, yelena and ava. none of them knew how to respond to her watchful presence, except for john, who caught her gaze again and with the little experience he had with kids, knelt down to her level, making himself less intimidating.

—why don't you guide me to the kitchen and we'll get your mom a glass of water?

she blinked, thinking about it for a second, then slowly nodded. john stood, not expecting her to wrapped her small fingers into his hand as she lead the way. to say that bucky was freaking out would be an understatement.

in the kitchen, rebecca pointed at the cupboard where the glass where kept. john took one of them and filled it with water from the tap. then, she gave him her captain america plushie so she could grab the glass, was this kind of bad joke? john followed her, still holding the plushie like he wasn't sure if it was meant to curse him or recruit him.

yelena and ava huffed a laugh when they saw him carrying the plushie.

rebecca carefully approached you, then gently handed over the glass. bucky gave john a grateful nod. you smiled warmly, taking a sip, —thank you, sweetie.

—my sister makes mama sick sometimes, —rebecca explained to everyone. the room was still, hearing her voice for the first time like it was something sacred.

—but you take good care of her, —bob said, his voice gentle.

—yeah, you sure are doing a great job, kid. i couldn't have brought that glass of water better myself, —john added.

rebecca showed a little smile, proud. with extreme care, she placed her tiny hand on your belly, her fingers splaying and she waited, hoping for the smallest kick from her baby sister. bucky kissed the top of your head.

—i made dinner, but i only expected bucky...

a chorus of don't worry, not hungry, i'm okay, i ate earlier, happened before you could finish talking. you looked around them all, tired, boots dusty from whatever roads they'd taken today, and hungry. no matter what they said.

—so we could order something, —you finally suggested.

bucky thought it was a great idea because there was no way he was going to let them go to bed with empty stomachs. while he made the call to the pizzeria, rebecca marched to the kitchen, ava and walker behind her like shadows as she pointed out the drawer with the cutlery.

back in the living room, you stood up from the chair. yelena, alexei and bob didn't let you out of their sight for a second. bucky, still on the phone, caught your movement and gave yelena a sharp nod, a silent command to keep you from doing anything else and to get you to the couch. you assured that you were fine, but it was no use.

at least alexei was no bore, he talked nonstop, about everything that came to his mind, most of the times embarrassing memories of little yelena. and rebecca had abandoned ava and walker to their luck in the kitchen and sat down next to bob with her notebook. you heard her mumble a wanna see my drawings? and the boy, as the sweetheart he was, couldn't deny. she explained every detail to him, not even letting bob get a word or ask a question.

ava helped bucky spread the tablecloth and john placed carefully the plates and glasses on the table.

—so, —ava said, looking at bucky with a teasing smirk, —another girl? you're the ultimate girl dad.

—yeah, three girls plus you and yelena. keeping me on my toes.

ava didn't say anything but she felt a little warmer at the way he'd included her and yelena in that count, like they were a bigger part of his life. he hadn't said it with any special emphasis, hadn't even looked at her when he said it but still, it stuck with her.

and the dinner was nice. so nice. bucky sat close by your side, his fingers gently holding your free hand over the table. rebecca was between yelena and ava but she was laughing at something walker had said to her, something funny enough to light up her whole face. bob had a soft blush on his cheeks. people laughing, sharing stories, the clink of plates and glasses, it almost felt unreal to him.

bucky leaned to kiss your cheek. you absolutely had no idea where all these people were going to sleep. the couch, the floor, a few air mattresses if the closet still held them, but definitely not enough beds. but looking at all together, sitting around the same table, full and happy, it didn't seem to matter at all.

[cloudtransprncy]

One Night Only - Directors Cut

Jennie Kim X Male Reader | 8k words

One night. That’s all you ever get. By morning, she’ll be gone. You’ll tell yourself this was the last time. You’ll both know it’s not.

AN: Ya’ll might remember this if you followed me last year. Spent the last few weeks reworking it—call it the director’s cut. Also Jennie is still my ult and so her coming back into the light is great.

Consequence. The word sits heavy in your mind as you watch the city from your hotel window. Thirty floors below, New York keeps moving. Never stops.

You flick ash from your cigarette. Every choice has weight. You know this. You called her anyway.

Jennie's mouth is on yours, soft and demanding at once. She tastes like cherry lip gloss and expensive gin, sweet and sharp. Her full lips part against yours, tongue sliding against your bottom lip. Her fingers pull at your hair, just rough enough to send shivers down your spine. Between kisses she breathes, "This is stupid," but her body presses closer, breasts pushing against your chest, hips finding yours.

Commitment. You've spent years avoiding that word. Being tied down always felt wrong. You need movement, new cities, different faces. Maybe that's why things fell apart—she saw what you couldn't admit. You'd always choose the road over staying still.

Her skin burns under your hands, smooth and impossibly soft. When you slide your palm down the curve of her waist to the flare of her hip, she sighs against your neck, her breath hot on your skin. "I've missed this," she says quietly, like she's admitting something she shouldn't. You back her against the wall, pinning her with your body. She arches into you, head tilting back in invitation. You feel her pulse jump beneath your lips when you kiss her throat, right at that spot that always makes her grip your shoulders tighter.

The hotel room is all clean lines and empty space. King bed with white sheets. Bathroom with too many mirrors. Mini-fridge you've already raided. View of the city that probably costs extra. Your record label covers it, so you don't care.

As a kid, you'd search for Virgo in the night sky. Stars were constant when nothing else was. Jennie's like that. No matter how far you go, you always circle back to her.

In the half-dark, her eyes catch the light from outside. She's always seen through you, always known the parts you try to hide from everyone else.

---

She'll come. She always does.

You know she's with someone else now—an actor with a jawline made for billboards. In her world of flashbulbs and red carpets, he makes sense. But you were there first, and somehow, you're still not gone.

It's been a year since you ended things, if you can call it an ending. When you call, she answers. When she texts, you drop everything. Some connections don't break clean.

Stop. Go. Stop. Go.

A day between Chicago and Toronto shows up in your tour schedule. When you hear she's in New York for some event, changing your plans feels inevitable.

At sunset, you text her from your hotel room. The message is simple: Here for the night. Room 3045.

She replies with just a question mark. Your conversations have become this—shorthand that only works because you share history.

"I'm in the city for one night," you say when you call her. The silence on her end isn't hesitation; it's calculation. Background noise filters through the phone—glasses clinking, people talking.

"I got a room, for me and you" you add. "One night only." You hang up knowing she'll decide whether to come. You also know what that decision will be.

The knock comes at 12:17. Three quick taps.

When you open the door, your breath catches in your throat. Jennie leans against the frame, champagne glass dangling between her fingers, but it's her body that has your full attention. Her black dress hugs every curve like it was painted on, stopping mid-thigh to reveal legs that seem endless. The material stretches tight across her hips, then tapers at her waist before swelling to accommodate her breasts. The neckline dips just low enough to make your mouth go dry.

"Started without me?" you nod toward her drink, trying to sound casual while your pulse hammers in your ears.

"Needed something to get me here," she says, her lips curving into that smile that's haunted you for months. Her eyes are dark and knowing, lined with perfect black wings that make them look even more dangerous.

Jennie walks in like she owns the place, hips swaying with each step. Those knee-high socks hug her calves, leading up to a thin garter belt that disappears beneath her dress—a promise of what waits underneath. Her skin glows warm and golden against the black fabric. Her dark hair tumbles in loose waves past her shoulders, the kind of perfectly tousled look that makes your fingers itch to grab it.

Her perfume wraps around you—roses with something darker underneath, expensive and intoxicating. The scent that's followed you to hotel rooms across the country, lingering on your sheets and clothes long after she's gone.

She finishes her drink and sets the glass down with deliberate slowness. Her red-painted nails catch the light as her hand moves to your chest. "We shouldn't keep doing this," she says, but her fingers are already working your shirt buttons, knuckles brushing against your skin with each one. Her touch leaves heat trails down your torso. "It's not fair."

"When has anything been fair?" you ask. Her mouth curves into the smile that's always meant trouble.

"Never," she agrees, pressing her hand against your chest. "So we might as well take what we can get."

When she kisses you, it feels like she's taking something back, something she left with you months ago. Tonight, in this room, she's not the girl from magazine covers or someone's girlfriend. She's yours again, temporarily.

"It's been a while," she whispers against your mouth.

"Too long," you admit.

The door clicks shut behind her. You have until sunrise.

Something electric sparks between you the moment the door clicks shut. The air feels different - charged with memory and want. Your bodies remember each other before your minds can catch up.

You're on the couch in minutes, her weight settling into your lap like she belongs there. This kiss is different from the ones you remember - hungrier, more desperate. Her tongue slides against yours, and you taste gin and desire. Her body presses against yours, soft in all the places you've missed.

Your hands find her curves through the thin fabric of her dress. You squeeze her ass, pulling her closer until there's nothing between you but clothing. She moans into your mouth when you press your hardness against her. You can feel her heat even through layers of fabric.

Jennie breaks the kiss, a thin strand of saliva connecting your lips for a second before it breaks. Her eyes are dark pools reflecting the city lights outside. They hold yours with an intensity that makes your throat tight.

"I've missed this, Owen," she whispers. Her voice is rough at the edges. She grinds against you, slow and deliberate, the friction making your breath catch. Her fingers tighten in your hair, pulling you back to her mouth. This kiss is deeper, messier, with teeth and tongue and need.

Your hands slide under her dress, finding warm skin. The sound she makes when you touch her bare thighs shoots straight to your groin. You push the fabric higher, revealing more of her, inch by inch. Her breathing quickens as her hips roll against yours. Her nipples are hard points pressing through the fabric, rubbing against your chest.

She lifts her arms as you pull the dress over her head. You toss it aside, forgotten before it hits the floor.

Moonlight spills through the windows, painting her skin silver. She's all smooth curves and shadows in the half-light. Her body is a map you once knew by heart - the slight curve of her waist, the fullness of her breasts, the dip of her collarbone. You take it all in again, relearning her.

Your hands can't stay still. You need to touch every inch of her, remind yourself that she's real. Her skin is impossibly soft under your fingertips, warm and alive. Each touch makes her shift against you, seeking more pressure, more contact.

The sounds she makes are better than any song you've written. Small gasps when you squeeze her thighs. A sharp intake of breath when your thumb grazes her nipple. Low hums of pleasure when you find a spot she likes. Each sound builds on the last, creating a rhythm that guides your hands.

You need to taste her. Starting at her collarbone, you press your lips to her skin. Salt and sweetness and expensive perfume fill your senses. She sighs, her head falling back to give you better access. You work your way across her shoulder, down her arm, learning the texture of her skin with your mouth.

When you reach her breast, you feel her whole body tense in anticipation. The skin here is softer, more delicate. You circle her nipple with your tongue, feeling it harden further. Your hand finds her other breast, thumb rolling over the stiff peak.

"Oh my god," she moans when you take her nipple into your mouth. Her back arches, pushing more of her into your face. The taste of her skin goes straight to your head like strong liquor. Her chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath.

Your free hand slides down her stomach, fingers spread wide to feel as much of her as possible. You trace the edge of her panties, feeling the lace against your fingertips. She rocks against your hand, seeking more pressure. You cup her between her legs, feeling the heat and dampness through the thin fabric. Jennie gasps, her thighs trembling as you press your palm firmly against her covered pussy.

"Fuck," she breathes, grinding down on your hand. Her fingers tighten in your hair, pulling hard enough to make your scalp tingle. The slight pain only makes you harder.

You move to her neck, dragging your teeth along the sensitive skin below her ear. When you bite down - not hard enough to mark, but enough to make her feel it - she whimpers, her whole body shuddering. Your thumb makes slow circles against her covered clit while your teeth work at her neck, finding the spots that make her grip your shoulders.

"I forgot how good you feel," you say against her skin, your voice rough with wanting.

"I want to feel you too," she says, eyes locked on yours. Her pupils are blown wide with desire. Her hand traces up your arm, across your shoulder, around to your back. Her nails dig into your skin, leaving trails of sensation. She tugs at your shirt, impatient now. You let her pull it over your head.

Her hands are everywhere at once, exploring your chest, your shoulders, your back. Her touch starts gentle but quickly turns hungry. She leans down to kiss your neck, her lips hot against your pulse point. Her teeth graze your skin, just hard enough to make you hiss.

As her mouth works its way down your chest, a thought flickers through your mind - does she do this with him? Does she make these same sounds, move in these same ways? The thought knifes through the pleasure for a split second before her touch pulls you back.

Nothing exists outside this room. Not her boyfriend. Not your tour. Just her hands on your skin and her breath in your ear.

"Fuck! I need your dick in my mouth," Jennie says, her voice thick with desire. She slides from your lap in one fluid motion, her body moving with practiced grace. She settles between your legs, her knees pressed against the hotel carpet, thighs spread slightly apart. Her hair falls forward, framing her face as she looks up at you through her lashes.

In the half-light, she's a vision – lips parted and swollen from kissing, chest flushed and rising with quick breaths, her breasts full and nipples still hard from your attention. The garter and stockings against her bare skin create a contrast that makes your mouth go dry.

She runs her hands up your thighs, fingers pressing into your muscles. Her red nails stand out against your skin as she hooks her fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants. There's something almost reverential in how she tugs them down – slowly at first, then with growing urgency. Her eyes never leave yours, even as she licks her lower lip in anticipation.

The fabric slides past your hips, and your cock springs free, hard and aching. A small smile plays at the corner of her mouth as she takes you in. She leans closer, her breath warm against your sensitive skin. When she finally looks up at you, her eyes are dark pools of hunger and something deeper – a look that's always been reserved just for you.

"You can have it tonight," you say, your voice rough as her hands wrap around your cock.

"All of it?" Jennie asks with a smile that's pure trouble. Her eyes don't leave yours. You nod, unable to form words.

She leans closer, parts her lips, and lets a strand of spit fall onto the tip. The warm wetness makes you twitch. She uses her fingers to spread it down your length, coating you. Her hand starts moving in slow strokes that make your breath catch.

Jennie sweeps her hair to one side, giving you a clear view. She doesn't break eye contact as she moves closer. Her breath hits you first, warm against sensitive skin. Then her tongue, wet and soft, circles the head of your cock. Your hands grip the couch cushions.

When she takes you into her mouth, the heat is shocking. Her lips stretch around you as she slides down, taking you deeper than you expected. Her tongue works against the underside, finding spots that make your thighs tense. The wet sounds fill the quiet room.

She pulls back, only keeping the tip in her mouth. Her tongue swirls around it, teasing the sensitive spot just underneath. Then she moves down again, a little deeper this time. The rhythm is maddening – not enough to get you there, just enough to keep you desperate for more.

Jennie pulls off completely, her hand still working you in slow strokes. She looks up, studying your reaction. Her free hand moves to your balls, cupping them gently, then rolling them between her fingers. The touch is unexpectedly tender compared to the hunger in her eyes.

"You like that?" she asks, knowing the answer. Her thumb traces circles at the base of your cock while her other hand continues its exploration. "You always did."

She leans down and runs her tongue from base to tip in one long, wet stroke. Then does it again on the underside, where you're most sensitive. Your hips lift off the couch involuntarily. She smiles at your reaction, clearly enjoying the power she has over you.

Jennie takes her time, alternating between her mouth and her hands. Sometimes she focuses just on the head, sucking gently while her hand works the shaft. Other times she takes you deep, then pulls back to circle the tip with her tongue. There's no pattern to follow, nothing to prepare you for what comes next.

Her hand slides lower, massaging your balls again before moving even further back. The unexpected pressure makes your whole body tense. She watches your reaction with dark, knowing eyes.

"Hold my hair," she says, pulling off for a moment. She grabs your hands and places them on either side of her head. "I want you to watch."

With your hands holding her hair back, you have a perfect view of her face, of her lips as they stretch around you again. She takes you deeper this time, her eyes watering slightly at the corners. The sight alone nearly pushes you over the edge.

She pulls off but keeps stroking you with her hand, tight and slick with spit. With her hair pulled back, you can see everything – her flushed cheeks, her bare shoulders, the tops of her breasts rising and falling with each breath. She looks like something from a dream you've had too many times.

"You just can't stay away, can you?" she says, her voice low and teasing. Her hand never stops moving on you. "Always calling me back. Always wanting one more night."

She takes you back into her mouth, just the tip, sucking hard before releasing you with a pop.

"You think about this when you're with other girls?" She speeds up her strokes, twisting her wrist in a way that makes your vision blur. "Bet you do. Bet none of them do it like I do."

Her words hit something deep inside you – a truth you don't want to admit. You tighten your grip on her hair, pulling just enough to make her eyes flash. She smiles, knowing she's struck a nerve.

"That's why you keep coming back," she continues, dropping her head to lick a slow circle around the base of your cock. She moves lower, taking one of your balls into her mouth, sucking gently while her hand keeps working your shaft. The dual sensation makes your legs shake.

When she looks up again, there's challenge in her eyes. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Before you can answer, she takes you deep into her mouth again, all the way until you hit the back of her throat. She holds there, swallowing around you, her eyes never leaving yours. The sensation is overwhelming – wet heat and pressure and the sight of her taking all of you.

"Fuck," is all you can manage, and she hums in satisfaction around you.

Jennie works you with perfect focus. Sometimes she takes you deep, her nose nearly touching your stomach, staying there until she needs to breathe. Other times she pulls back to use her hand with her mouth, twisting her wrist in a way that makes spots dance behind your eyes.

Every few strokes she pulls off completely, gathering more spit, making everything wetter, messier. Saliva coats your cock and her chin now, catching the dim light. It should be gross but it's the hottest thing you've ever seen.

Time stretches and blurs. It could be minutes or hours. There's just Jennie's mouth, her hands, the heat building at the base of your spine.

She changes her approach, focusing just on the head, sucking harder while her hand works the shaft in quick, tight strokes. The new sensation makes your leg muscles jump. You feel yourself getting close.

"Fuck, Jennie, I'm—" you try to warn her, reaching to pull her head back. You want to make this last, to feel more of her tonight.

She slaps your hand away, hard enough to sting.

"You're giving this to me now," she says, voice raspy from having you in her throat. "And you're giving me more later." Her tone leaves no room for argument.

Jennie doubles down, moving with new determination. One hand squeezes the base while her mouth works the rest. Her other hand slides between your legs, fingernails lightly scratching your inner thigh. The unexpected touch makes you gasp.

She takes you deeper again, moaning around you like she's enjoying this as much as you are. The vibration, the suction, the sight of her – it all becomes too much.

The orgasm hits you like a punch. Your vision blurs at the edges as waves of pleasure roll through you. Jennie doesn't pull away, keeping perfect suction as you come. She swallows around you, the motion extending your pleasure until you're gripping her shoulders to stay upright.

She keeps going until you're too sensitive, until you have to gently push at her shoulders. Only then does she finally release you, looking up with satisfaction in her eyes. A small drop of white clings to her bottom lip before her tongue darts out to catch it.

She reaches for your discarded shirt and wipes her mouth and hands, casual as if she'd just finished a meal. The sight of her using your clothes like this only adds to the intimacy.

Jennie rises to her feet in one fluid motion, her body unfolding before you. She's petite but perfectly proportioned - slim waist, delicate shoulders, toned legs that seem to go on forever despite her height. Standing there in just her knee-high socks and garter, her small, perky breasts catch the dim light. Her skin has a golden glow against the darkness of the room.

She steps between your legs, looking down at you with hooded eyes. Her slender fingers reach for your chin, tilting your face up to meet hers. The gesture is possessive, almost commanding. She leans down, her straight dark hair falling forward to frame both your faces, creating a private world. Her lips find yours, softer now but still hungry. You taste yourself on her tongue, salt and skin.

"I'm not done with you," she whispers against your lips. "You brought me here. We're gonna make the most of it." Her fingertips trace your jawline before she steps back, grabbing your hand to pull you toward the bed.

As you follow her across the room, the city sounds filter through the windows – car horns, distant music, the constant hum of life that never stops. The soft lighting catches on her skin, giving it a warm glow that makes you want to touch her all over again.

As you follow her across the room, the city sounds filter through the windows – car horns, distant music, the constant hum of life that never stops. The soft lighting catches on her skin, giving it a warm glow that makes you want to touch her all over again.

Jennie moves onto the bed with natural grace. The curve of her spine draws your eye down to where her waist narrows before flaring into her hips. The small black thong she still wears cuts across her skin, the thin fabric disappearing between her cheeks in a way that makes your mouth go dry.

She positions herself in the center of the bed, her movements deliberate and unhurried. She folds her legs into a 'W' shape, showcasing their length despite her petite frame. The knee-high socks create a striking contrast against her bare thighs. The entire pose is an invitation you could never refuse.

Her hands begin to move across her own body, touching herself with slow confidence. She traces circles around her small breasts, fingers dancing across her skin with a self-assurance that's hypnotic to watch. In the dim light, every movement feels like it's meant just for you.

You notice how different she looks now compared to when she arrived at your door. Her carefully applied makeup is smudged around her eyes. Her hair, once smooth and perfect, is wild from your hands. She looks beautifully undone, more real somehow, and even more stunning for it.

She runs a finger across her lips, still swollen from taking you in her mouth. Then trails it down her neck and over her chest, drawing your eye along the path.

"Come here," she says, her voice low but commanding. She rolls onto her back, her body a landscape of curves and shadows in the half-light.

Though still wearing her thong, the thin black fabric does little to hide what's underneath. As you move closer to the bed, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband and slides it down her legs with deliberate slowness. The last barrier between you disappears as she kicks it aside.

With the same unhurried confidence, Jennie reaches down and uses her fingers to part herself. The gesture is both vulnerable and bold – showing you exactly what you've been missing all these months. Even in the dim light, you can see how wet she is, glistening with want.

You climb onto the bed, feeling the expensive sheets against your palms. The fabric is cool and smooth, a stark contrast to the heat building between you. The mattress gives slightly under your weight as you move between her legs.

Jennie is breathtaking beneath you. Her skin has a slight sheen in the low light, catching the glow from the bedside lamp. Her dark hair fans out against the white pillows, framing a face that's haunted your dreams for months. Her chest rises and falls with quickening breaths, her small breasts topped with hardened nipples that beg for your touch.

But you're not rushing this. Not after all these months apart.

You start at her ankles, where the knee-high socks still cling to her calves. Your lips press against the delicate bone there, feeling her pulse beneath the skin. She watches you through half-lidded eyes as you work your way higher, placing open-mouthed kisses up her calf.

When you reach the top of her sock, you peel it down slowly, revealing more of her skin inch by inch. The newly exposed flesh gets special attention – your lips, your tongue, even the gentle scrape of teeth that makes her shiver.

"What are you doing?" she asks, but there's no impatience in her voice, just wonder.

"Appreciating the view," you murmur against her knee. "Been thinking about this body for months."

You move to her other leg, giving it the same treatment – slow, deliberate kisses that make her skin prickle with goosebumps. Your hands slide up her thighs as your mouth follows, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your touch.

Her inner thighs are softer, more sensitive. When your tongue traces the crease where leg meets hip, she gasps, her fingers flexing against the sheets. The scent of her arousal is stronger here, making your mouth water.

You detour, moving up to kiss her stomach, the dip of her navel, the subtle ridges of her ribs. Each breath she takes makes her abdomen rise and fall beneath your lips. You work your way to her breasts, taking your time with each one – circling the nipple with your tongue before sucking it into your mouth, feeling it harden further.

"Owen," she sighs, arching into your touch.

Your hands never stop moving, exploring every inch of her like you're memorizing her by touch alone. The curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, the softness of her sides – all of it perfect, all of it Jennie.

You make your way back down, leaving a trail of kisses from her sternum to her stomach. Her breathing quickens as you move lower, anticipation making her shift restlessly beneath you. When you reach the neat strip of dark hair between her legs, you pause, looking up to meet her eyes.

"You're fucking beautiful," you say, your voice rougher than intended.

Her eyes soften for just a moment before that familiar challenge returns. "Are you going to stare all night, or are you going to do something about it?"

You answer by settling between her legs, pushing her thighs wider. You can't help but stare at the view before you. There's something almost reverent in how you look at her – taking in every detail, every curve and shadow. Her thighs part further, an invitation that needs no words. Between her legs, you notice she's not completely bare – a neat, dark landing strip of hair points down like an arrow, the contrast of it against her skin making your mouth water.

The scent of her hits you first – warm and musky and distinctly Jennie. You breathe her in, letting it flood your senses and cloud your thoughts. Nothing exists but this bed, this woman, this moment.

You lower your head slowly, maintaining eye contact until the last possible second. The first broad stroke of your tongue makes her gasp. You take your time, exploring her with long, flat licks that cover her entirely. Her taste is familiar yet new – sweet and tangy and addictive. You could drown here and die happy.

"Fuck," she breathes, her hips already lifting slightly to meet your mouth.

You switch to softer, more focused touches, tracing her folds with the tip of your tongue. Each pass draws different sounds from her – soft sighs that gradually build to more urgent moans. You map her with your mouth, relearning what makes her breath catch, what makes her thighs shake.

When you find her clit, you circle it slowly, teasingly, not giving her the direct pressure you know she craves. Her fingers find your hair, tightening in frustration.

"Don't tease me," she warns, but there's no real threat in her voice – just desire strained to its breaking point.

You smile against her before giving in, wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking gently. The reaction is immediate – her back arches off the bed, a strangled curse falling from her lips.

Your free hand slides up her body, finding the toned plane of her stomach. You press down firmly, holding her in place as your mouth works against her. The contrast of your hand on her abs while your tongue explores her most sensitive areas makes her writhe beneath you.

She's getting wetter, her arousal coating your chin as you work. You move your tongue in circles, then switch to quick flicks across her clit that make her thighs tremble. Each change in pressure or rhythm pulls new sounds from her throat.

"Oh god, right there," she gasps when you find a particularly sensitive spot.

You slip a finger inside her, feeling her heat clench around you immediately. She's impossibly tight and wet, her body welcoming the intrusion. You curl your finger to find that spot that always drove her crazy. When you find it, her whole body jerks like she's been shocked.

"Right there," she gasps. "Don't stop."

You add a second finger, stretching her gently while continuing to work her clit with your mouth. The combination makes her hips buck wildly against your face. Her hands tighten in your hair, pulling almost painfully.

With each thrust of your fingers, you quicken the tempo, driving deeper into her. Her muscles clench around you rhythmically, like she's trying to pull you further in. Your tongue never stops its assault on her clit, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention.

"Owen," she moans, her voice breaking. "I'm so close."

You pull back just enough to look up at her, your fingers still working inside her. "You still think about this when you're with him?" The question slips out before you can stop it. Your thumb replaces your tongue, circling her clit as you watch her face.

She glares down at you, but her body betrays her, clenching around your fingers. "You're such a dick."

"But you're here anyway," you say, curling your fingers against that spot that makes her whole body jerk. "In my bed, not his."

Her breath catches. "Shut up."

You lower your head again, sucking her clit between your lips while adding a third finger. The stretch makes her gasp, her back arching. You can feel her getting closer – her thighs tensing, her breathing becoming irregular. Her entire body is flushed with heat, a thin sheen of sweat making her skin glow in the dim light.

You establish a relentless rhythm – fingers pumping while your tongue works her clit. The wet sounds of your movements fill the room, mixing with her increasingly desperate moans.

Just as she's about to peak, you ease back, slowing down just enough to keep her on the edge.

"Tell me you missed this," you say against her inner thigh, your breath hot on her wet skin.

"Don't stop," she pleads, hips lifting to chase your mouth.

You stay just out of reach. "Tell me no one does this like I do."

Her hands tighten in your hair, trying to force you back down. "I hate you," she says, but there's no conviction in it.

"No, you don't." You circle her entrance with your fingers, teasing but not pushing in. "Say it, Jennie."

She fights it for a moment, pride warring with desire. Then breaks. "No one does it like you do. Now please—" her voice cracks with need, "please don't stop."

The desperation in her voice sends heat through your entire body. You give her what she wants, diving back in with renewed hunger. Your tongue circles her clit rapidly while your fingers press firmly against that sweet spot inside her. The dual sensations push her toward the edge fast.

Her legs wrap around your head, thighs clamping against your ears as her body tenses. Your free hand reaches up to find her breast, pinching her nipple between your fingers. The added stimulation makes her cry out, her voice cracking with pleasure.

"Owen," she warns, her voice tight and strained. "I'm gonna—"

"Come for me," you command, increasing the pressure, the speed, giving her exactly what she needs.

Her breathing turns ragged, her moans more frantic. The muscles in her stomach tense under your hand as her body coils tight, ready to snap. Her inner walls clench rhythmically around your fingers, the first tremors of her orgasm beginning.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh—" Her words dissolve into a broken cry as it hits her. Her back arches high off the bed, her body going rigid. Her thighs shake violently around your head as waves of pleasure crash through her.

"Oh my God!" The words tear from her throat as her fingers pull painfully at your hair. Her body convulses beneath your mouth, wave after wave of pleasure washing over her. "You're so good at that, Owen."

She bites her lower lip hard, her neck straining as her hips jerk uncontrollably against your face. You don't let up, working her through the peak, extending her pleasure until she's gasping and writhing from the intensity.

The aftershocks ripple through her body like tremors, her skin flushed and damp with sweat. Only when she weakly pushes at your head, too sensitive to take any more, do you finally ease back. You place one last gentle kiss against her before resting your cheek on her inner thigh, looking up at her wrecked expression.

Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, her eyes closed, lips parted. She looks utterly spent, flushed and beautiful in her satisfaction.

After a moment, Jennie gathers herself, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She looks down at you, her gaze dropping to your obvious arousal. Without a word, she reaches forward and spits on it, her saliva glistening as she begins to stroke you. You groan at the contact, your body responding instantly to her touch. You don't let up, working her through the orgasm, only easing the pressure when her hand pushes weakly against your head, oversensitive.

You place one last gentle kiss against her before resting your cheek on her inner thigh, looking up at her flushed face. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, her eyes closed, lips parted. She looks wrecked in the best possible way.

After a moment, Jennie gathers herself, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She looks up at you, a predatory gleam replacing the post-orgasm haze in her eyes. Without warning, she reaches for your cock and spits on it, her saliva mixing with the wetness still coating her lips from going down on you earlier.

"Now," she says, voice raspy and demanding, "I'm going to fuck you."

She doesn't wait for your response, just straddles your hips and positions herself above you. Her thighs flex as she hovers, teasing you with the heat of her center just inches away from where you need it.

"Tell me how bad you want this," she demands, one hand flat against your chest for balance.

"Just get on my dick already," you growl, grabbing her hips to pull her down.

She resists, maintaining control. "Say please," she taunts, her eyes challenging you.

You nearly laugh. "Fuck you."

"That's the idea," she says with a wicked smile, then finally sinks down in one swift movement, taking you to the hilt.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you hiss as her heat surrounds you. She's impossibly tight after her orgasm, still pulsing slightly from the aftershocks.

"You're so fucking big," she gasps, adjusting to the stretch. There's no sweetness in her voice – just raw appreciation for how you fill her.

Jennie starts to move, not with gentle rises and falls but with demanding, forceful motions. Her thighs flex powerfully as she lifts herself almost completely off before slamming back down. Each drop makes a slapping sound that fills the room, punctuated by her sharp gasps.

The sight of her riding you is mesmerizing. Her small breasts bounce with each movement, nipples hard and dark against her golden skin. Her stomach muscles visibly tighten with each rise and fall, showing off the definition in her abs that she works so hard for. Her hair, now completely wild from your hands, whips around her shoulders as she moves.

"Touch my tits," she commands, grabbing your hands and placing them on her chest.

You squeeze roughly, pinching her nipples the way you remember she likes. Her head falls back, exposing the elegant column of her throat, a string of curses falling from her lips.

"Fucking hell, your cock feels so good," she says, grinding down hard. "Tell me you've missed this pussy."

"Every fucking day," you admit, thrusting up to meet her movements. The force of it nearly bounces her off you, but she adjusts her balance, her strong thighs gripping your sides.

She leans forward, her hands braced on your chest. The new angle lets her grind her clit against your pubic bone with each thrust. Her nails dig into your skin, leaving crescent marks that burn. Her face hovers above yours, her hair creating a curtain around you both. Sweat beads along her hairline, one drop sliding down her temple to her jaw.

"No one fucks me like you do," she admits, the words sounding torn from her. "No one."

With a surge of need, you move between her thighs, pressing her into the mattress. Her legs wrap around your waist, drawing you closer. Your eyes lock as you drive into her, taking control of the pace.

"Fuck, I missed this tight pussy," you growl, watching her eyes flash at your words.

"Shut up and fuck me harder," she snaps back, digging her heels into your lower back.

You slam into her, setting a brutal pace that has the headboard cracking against the wall. Each thrust jolts her body up the bed, her hair splaying across the pillows like spilled ink. Her small breasts bounce with the impact, nipples hard and begging for attention.

Your hands move to her waist, fingers nearly meeting around her small frame. The contrast of your large hands against her tiny waist makes your head spin. You can feel her hip bones under your thumbs, the delicate architecture of her body beneath your palms.

"Like that? This how you want it?" Your voice is rough, almost unrecognizable with need.

"Yes—don't fucking stop," she gasps, her nails raking down your back hard enough to leave welts.

You lean down, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss. Your tongues battle for dominance as your bodies slam together. The taste of her—sweet with a hint of salt from her sweat—fills your senses. You break away to trail bites down her neck, leaving marks that will remind her of this night long after you're gone.

She arches into you, offering more of herself. You take advantage, moving to her shoulder, then her arm, leaving a trail of bites and kisses along her skin. The salt of her sweat makes your head spin. When you reach the sensitive skin of her inner arm, she lets out a surprised gasp that turns into a deep moan.

"Oh fuck, don't stop," she pants as you run your tongue along the delicate skin of her armpit, tasting the most primal part of her.

In this position, you can see everything—her face contorting with each thrust, the way her stomach muscles tighten when you hit deep, how her lips part on silent screams when you find the perfect angle. Her hair sticks to her temples with sweat, dark strands clinging to her flushed skin.

Sweat makes your bodies slide together, the hotel room filling with the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin. You grip her thigh, pushing it higher, opening her wider. The position stretches her leg up toward her chest, showing off the flexibility from her years of dance training.

"Harder," she demands, her voice breaking as you comply. "Fucking wreck me."

You reach down, gripping her jaw, forcing her to look at you as you pound into her. Her eyes are wild, pupils blown with arousal. "This what you came here for? This what you needed?"

Her breathing changes, becoming more ragged. You recognize the signs—she's close again. You adjust your position slightly, hitting that spot inside her that you know drives her wild.

"There!" she cries out, her nails digging crescents into your shoulders.

You maintain the angle, the rhythm, watching her face as pleasure builds. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her body tenses beneath you, on the edge but not quite there.

"Let go," you urge, your thumb finding her clit. "Come for me again."

She shakes her head. "Not yet—not without you."

Something snaps in you at her words. Without warning, you pull out completely and flip her over in one rough motion. She gasps, surprised by the sudden movement as you manhandle her onto her hands and knees. Your hand lands hard on her ass, leaving a bright red handprint on her skin.

"Fuck!" she cries out, more in arousal than pain.

You grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back as you position yourself behind her. Sweat drips down your chest, landing on her back as you line yourself up. You can hear her panting, waiting, her thighs trembling slightly in anticipation.

"This what you want?" you growl against her ear, your chest pressed to her back, cock teasing her entrance.

"Yes," she hisses. "Give it to me."

You slam into her without further warning, burying yourself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. The sound she makes is primal—half scream, half moan. Her arms nearly buckle under the force, but you hold her up with your grip on her hair.

"Fuck!" she cries out, her fingers clawing at the sheets.

You establish a punishing rhythm, each thrust making her entire body jerk forward. Her hair is wrapped tight around your fist like a leash, forcing her back to arch at a severe angle. Sweat makes your bodies slide together, your skin slapping against hers with obscene wet sounds. The musky scent of sex fills the air, heavy and intoxicating.

"Look at you taking it," you say, giving her ass another sharp slap that leaves a fresh handprint. "Always said you were made for this."

She looks back over her shoulder, her face a perfect picture of pleasure-pain, mascara smudged at the corners of her eyes. "Fuck you," she pants, but pushes back harder against you, contradicting her words.

The sight of her is overwhelming – her narrow waist flaring out to perfectly rounded hips, the elegant curve of her spine dipping then rising, her hair tangled in your fist. From this angle, you can see everything – the way her back hollows out, how her ass bounces against your hips, the glistening evidence of her arousal coating you both.

You lean forward, running your free hand up her side to roughly grab her breast. The position pushes you deeper, making her gasp. Your fingers find her nipple, pinching hard as you maintain your relentless pace.

"Oh god," she moans, her arms shaking from supporting her weight. "Don't stop."

Her body is covered in a fine sheen of sweat, making her skin glow in the dim light. You can see the muscles in her back shifting beneath her skin with each impact, the way her shoulder blades move as she braces against your thrusts.

"Owen," she warns, voice strained with need. "I'm so close."

Her words push you closer to the edge. You increase your pace, chasing both her pleasure and your own. Each thrust now has purpose, driving deeper, harder. You can feel the pressure building at the base of your spine, your control slipping with every sound she makes.

"I'm close too," you admit, rhythm becoming erratic. "I'm gonna cum."

Her body tenses beneath you, muscles tightening as she approaches her peak. You can feel it building—the way she clenches around you, the trembling in her thighs, her increasingly desperate sounds.

"Oh my God, Owen!" she cries out, her voice breaking on your name. "Fill me up!"

Her orgasm crashes through her—you feel it in the way her body convulses, in how she rhythmically tightens around you, in the broken sounds that escape her throat. The sensation of her pulsing around you pushes you over the edge.

Your release hits with an intensity that whites out your vision—powerful, overwhelming, unstoppable. You empty yourself inside her, every pulse accompanied by a wave of pleasure so intense it borders on pain. Her body milks you, drawing out every last sensation until you're both trembling from the force of it.

As the intensity fades, you collapse beside her on the bed, pulling her close against you. Your arm wraps around her waist as you press gentle kisses to her neck and shoulder. Her body still trembles with small aftershocks, her breathing gradually slowing to normal.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The only sounds in the room are your labored breathing and the distant city noise filtering through the windows. Sweat cools on your skin, making you shiver slightly. Despite the roughness of what just happened, she turns toward you with unexpected tenderness, her small hand coming up to cup your cheek.

She presses her forehead against yours, eyes closed, just breathing you in. A small, almost inaudible snort escapes her as she tries to catch her breath – a startlingly human sound that cuts through the haze of post-sex euphoria. It makes her seem more real somehow, more Jennie than the polished celebrity the world knows.

Her chest still rises and falls rapidly, her heartbeat a quick rhythm you can feel where your bodies press together. Her fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, moving from your chest to your shoulder and back again. It's these quiet moments that always feel more dangerous than the sex – this gentle intimacy that makes you think of what could have been.

"Shit," she finally whispers, a small laugh bubbling up. She looks slightly dazed, her makeup completely ruined, hair a tangled mess. "I forgot how good we are at that."

You brush a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. The gesture is too tender for what this is supposed to be, but you can't help yourself. "Some things you don't forget."

She looks into your eyes and you see a complex mix of satisfaction and something deeper—a longing that mirrors your own. Her hair sticks to her face in damp strands, her skin flushed and glowing in the dim light. Even like this—especially like this—she's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

As she lies in your arms, her breathing gradually steadying, you can't help but think about what might have been between you in another life—one where you could stay instead of always leaving. One where "one night only" wasn't all you ever had.

---

Hours later, once you’re sure she’s asleep, you slip out of the bed. The sheets make a soft sound as you untangle yourself from her limbs. She doesn't stir.

The hotel room feels different at 3 AM. Quieter. The luxury that seemed impressive earlier now feels hollow, just expensive emptiness. You find your sweatpants on the floor where she pulled them off you hours ago.

The balcony door slides open with a whisper. Thirty floors up, the city spreads out like someone spilled light across black velvet. You light a cigarette, cupping your hand against the wind even though there's no one here to see the brief flare of your lighter.

Inside, Jennie sleeps. Her small body barely disturbs the white sheets. In the dim light filtering from the bathroom, you can see the marks you left on her neck, her shoulders. Evidence that you were here. That this happened.

She belongs to someone else now. The thought should bother you more than it does. Maybe you're just used to it - this pattern of coming together briefly, then separating again. Maybe you've convinced yourself it's better this way.

You take a deep drag, feeling the burn in your lungs. It's cold out here in just sweatpants, but the chill feels necessary after the heat of her body against yours for hours.

You've never been good at staying. It's not a point of pride, just a fact, like your height or the sound of your voice. Commitment feels like drowning to you, always has. You've tried to explain this to her before. She said she understood, but the way she looked at you afterward told a different story.

Below, taxis crawl along streets like yellow insects. People spill out of late-night bars, laughing too loud. The city that never sleeps. You'll be gone from it tomorrow. Another show, another hotel room indistinguishable from this one.

You wonder if her boyfriend knows where she is tonight. If he senses something when she slips back into their shared life tomorrow. If he can somehow smell you on her skin despite the shower she'll take before going home.

The cigarette burns down to your fingers. You flick it over the edge, watching its orange tip tumble into darkness.

Jennie knows you better than anyone. This is the thought that keeps you up at night in cities whose names you sometimes forget. She knows your body, your sounds, the things that make you come undone. Worse, she knows the parts of yourself you try to hide from everyone else.

A melody forms in your head. Something slow and hazy, like smoke curling off a cigarette. Words follow naturally - about being in town just for one night. About needing her. About the room you got for just the two of you.

You mouth the words silently, testing how they feel:

I'm in town for one night,

one night only

I came around to put it down, for one night only

Your fans will think it's just another song about sex. They won't know about the way Jennie looked at you when she came. How her body felt like coming home. How you're already planning when you can see her again, even as you tell yourself this was the last time.

Just one night

Got a room for me and you, for one night only

You wanna ride for a lifetime, this is one night only

The song takes shape in your mind, already feeling like a hit. Your producer will love it. Your label will push it. No one will know it's about her. No one except Jennie, if she ever hears it.

The city is turning blue at the edges when you finally go back inside. Morning approaching. Soon you'll have to leave for the airport, for the next city, the next crowd.

Jennie hasn't moved. You slide in beside her, your skin cold from the night air. She makes a small sound in her sleep and shifts toward your body heat, instinctively seeking you out. Her hand finds your chest, rests over your heart.

You wonder what she'd say if you asked her to come with you to Toronto. You won't ask. You both know the routine by now.

One night only. It's never enough. It's all you can handle.

END.

[evilminji]

Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>

Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?

He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.

What're you? A cop?

Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.

Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.

But see, here's the THING.

The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...

Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.

There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)

He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!

Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.

That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.

Poisonous, though.

They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.

Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!

Who's Coffee Is This?

Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!

You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.

He's shouting.

People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.

Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!

He TACKLES the man of steel.

RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!

And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.

He'll move in a moment.

When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.

The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.

They never do.

And now he's nearly killed Superman.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles

[meganwritesfanfics]

You Are My Sunshine (Jack Abbot x Reader)

A companion story to How to Save a Life. It is time to find out the sex of baby Abbot. But the nerves are high as both Y/N and Jack worry about the baby and if the damage done from the shooting, could still have lingering issues

Trigger Warning: Discussion of pregnancy

Word Count: 1682

“I thought the morning sickness was supposed to stop in the second trimester.” Y/N groaned as she sat in the bathroom, her head leaning against the sink as she doubled over. Jack was behind her with a cool washcloth on the back of her neck as he gently rubbed her back.

“You know every pregnancy is different.” Jack said. But even as he said it, he knew that Y/N had been struggling with the pregnancy. It seemed to be taking a much larger toil on her than he would have thought. He knew the doctor said they needed to be cautious, that with the scarring from the bullet, breathing could become extra difficult with the pressure added to her lungs. This had Jack on high alert terrified of Y/N having complications.

After the shooting he had barely left her side, even when they worked different shifts he checked in often making sure that she didn’t need anything or was having any problems or pains. Y/N found it very adorable if not somewhat annoying.

“Just think, we are going to confirm my hunch today that we are having a girl today.” Jack teased trying to distract Y/N from the nausea.

“I am going to laugh so hard when you are wrong.” Y/N laughed but the laugh quickly turned to a groan as she leaned back over the toilet ready to throw up.

“Do you want me to see if I can get someone to cover your shift tonight?” Jack asked, rubbing her back.

“No, we are already going to be at the hospital for our appointment. I want to work.” Y/N insisted.

“Ok if you need a break though just let me know, I’ll pick up your patients.” He said.

“You will do nothing of the sort. You already have enough on your plate as it is. You do not need me to add to it.”

“Baby, you do not add anything to my plate. I just want to make sure that both my girls are safe.” He smiled as he put his hand on her stomach.

“You are going to be such a good dad, you know that, don't you.” She smiled.

Jack froze as he looked at her his eyes getting glassy.

“You are going to be a great mom.” He said. “I am so excited to have this baby with you.” He smiled as he leaned forward to kiss her but she pushed him back.

“You are not kissing me after I just puked my guts out. That’s disgusting.” She laughed as she stood up brushed her teeth and made her way back to their shared bedroom getting dressed for the day. She had already started showing so she had to go up in her scrub size.

“I feel like I look ridiculously.” Y/N sighed as she stood in front of the mirror. “I look huge, everyone else who is 18 weeks pregnant looks cute, I look like a whale.”

“You do not look like a whale.” Jack laughed as he came up behind her and put his hand on her belly kissing the side of her head. “You look like my beautiful wife who is carrying my beautiful child. And who I think is absolutely sexy as hell.”

Y/N groaned as she leaned into Jack. “You are too good for me, you know that.”

“We both know that is a lie.” Jack said as he turned her so she was facing him. “I love you so much.” Then he pulled her in for a long kiss. “Now let’s go see our baby.” He beamed as he grabbed her hand and they started walking to the car.

The whole drive there, Y/N couldn’t stop her leg from bouncing up and down, she was nervous. Terrified that something could go wrong. She knew Jack was scared enough for the both of them, so she tried to not let him see her fears often.

“Baby?” He asked as he reached over and placed his hand on her thigh to stop it from bouncing. “Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

“Just excited that’s all.”

“Y/N you can’t lie to me, what’s going on?”

“I’m just scared, I’m so worried about something terrible happening with the baby. Things just don’t feel right Jack. I shouldn’t be this uncomfortable all the time right, not yet at least. I’m worried something is wrong.” She said tears filling up her eyes.

“Y/N, how long have you felt like this?” He asked, his eyes filled with worry.

“Since a week after I came home from the hospital.” She said

Jack grabbed her hand.

“What if the gun shot really did cause damage and we don’t know, what if we…”

“Baby, baby, breathe. Ok. We have done so many scans, you have had both Robby and I take a look to double check. Everything is ok with the baby. Remember what the doctors called her. A miracle. Our baby is strong. She’s a fighter just like her mom. Now it is ok to be scared. Hell I’m scared shitless baby. But you can’t spiral. You already have a stressful job, the last thing you need is to be stressed out outside of work. But you have to talk to me about this, ok. You can’t keep this to yourself. Let me help you. Let me talk you down from the ledge.”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N said as she wiped her tears that had fallen down her cheeks.

“Don’t apologize, you have got nothing to apologize for. I promise you, I am going to need to hear a similar pep talk before the baby is born. We just got to talk with each other. Right?”

“Right.” Y/N sighed and squeezed his hand a little tighter.

“Now all you need to think about, is how in about 30 minutes we are going to find out that we are having a girl and that I am correct.”

Y/N laughed. “Jack Abbot you are incorrigible.”

“Yes but you married me Mrs. Abbot.”

“And it was the best decision of my life.”

They didn’t have to wait long, the perks of being a doctor. As Y/N laid down on the table pulling her shirt up slightly Jack instantly grabbed her shaking hand.

“Now are we wanting to know the sex of the baby?” The tech asked as she squirted the gel onto Y/N’s stomach.

“Yes.” Both Y/N and Jack said.

The room went silent before the sound of a heartbeat filled the room and Y/N couldn’t help but sigh a smile appearing on her face, happy that the heartbeat sounded strong.

“Baby is looking good, and that heartbeat is strong.” The tech smiled and Jack leaned forward and kissed the side of Y/N’s head. “And now for the sex I see…” The tech froze and Y/N’s heart stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked as Y/N gripped his hand tighter.

“Give me one moment.” The tech said and Y/N thought she was going to explode tears welling up in her eyes.

The room was silent again as Jack rubbed his thumb over Y/N’s knuckles trying to calm her down.

“Breathe baby, breathe.” He whispered his own heart pounding in his chest.

Suddenly the tech smiled widely as she turned back to the couple.

“Well you are having a girl.” She said and Y/N gasped, turning to Jack.

“See I told you I was right.” He beamed tears in his eyes as he kissed her.

“And you are having a boy.” The tech said and both Y/N and Jack looked at her eyes wide.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“You are having twins.”

Jack’s head was swirling. Twins. Two babies.

“Woah, dad do you need to sit down?” The tech asked and Y/N looked at Jack and saw the shocked look on his face, his face had completely paled.

“Jack, are you ok?” She asked, squeezing his hand again.

“Twins, we are having twins. A boy and a girl.” He gasped in disbelief causing Y/N to laugh.

“So you were right and you were wrong.” She teased.

“I…” He started his eyes filling with tears. “I love you so much.” He kissed her hard before he leaned down to her stomach. “And I love you too, babies.”

Y/N couldn’t help but beam as she watched her husband talking to their unborn babies. Even though the thought of having two babies absolutely terrified her, she couldn’t wait to meet them, and for their family to be born.

When they walked into the Pitt, they found the whole day shift staff waiting for them.

“So, what are you having?” Robby asked and Y/N couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh when she saw the board of people placing bets on what the sex of their baby would be.

“You all made bets on my kid?” Jack said pretending to be mad.

“Listen it was a slow day, we needed something to keep us going.” Dana smiled.

“Come on, tell us!” Langdon smiled.

Jack and Y/N looked at each other before they spoke again.

“We are having a girl.” Jack smiled and half of the Pitt crew cheered.

“And we are having a boy.” Y/N interrupted and everyone went silent.

“I told you!” A voice called and Y/N turned to see Collins coming up to her.

“You knew?” Jack asked.

“I had my suspicions,” Heather laughed as she hugged Y/N. “Alright, you all owe me money.”

The crew groaned as they started to hand Collins money.

“Congratulations brother.” Robby said as he came up and hugged Jack.

“Thank you.”

“You know what this means, you can now name your kid Michael.”

Jack let out a loud laugh as he took in the scene before him. Dana was hugging Y/N tightly and the whole Pitt crew was surrounding them. He couldn’t wait for the babies to be born so he could introduce them all to their Pitt family.

Tag List: @pear-1206

[verstappenverse]

Pairing: Camgirl!Reader x Obsessed!Max

Authors Note: NSFW still working on the details for the upcoming fic but having fun with the concept. Let me know what you think or send any additional ideas.

Max can’t remember how he found your page, maybe it was a suggested post on Instagram, or maybe some random link caught his attention. It doesn’t matter how it started, what matters is that now he’s addicted.

At first it's just curiosity, he wasn’t the type to watch cam streams or really spend any time on adult content, but something about you was different. You weren’t like the over-the-top, hyper-curated content he’d expect from this kind of thing. You were sweet, soft-spoken, almost shy in the way you interacted with the camera. And Max sitting alone in his Monaco penthouse couldn’t look away.

He tells himself it’s just a passing distraction, a way to unwind, but then he starts getting… attached. His obsession grows quietly at first. He subscribes to your page, buys your exclusive content, and sets notifications for your streams. It doesn’t matter if he’s at a racetrack, a sponsor event, or a hotel halfway across the world - when you post about your next stream, he checks the time difference and tries to plan his schedule around it.

The first time someone else drops a high tip and you thank them by name, Max feels it. That sharp, irrational sting of jealousy. He knows it’s stupid, he’s one of thousands of viewers, but the way you smile for them? It makes him want to punch a wall. So he does the only thing that makes sense he outbids them.

When you say his username in that soft, teasing tone and add “Thank you so much, you’re incredible!” it’s like a shot of adrenaline straight to his chest.

It starts small a few high donations here and there, but soon enough he finds himself spending more of his income on you than he’d ever care to admit. From there it spirals, he’s tipping more, requesting more, even messaging you privately. You respond graciously of course, you always do, but Max convinces himself that your replies to him are different. More personal.

Custom videos, private streams, whatever gets him a little closer to feeling like he’s the only one you’re looking at. He tells himself it’s harmless. He can afford it after all.

It doesn’t take long before his obsession starts creeping into the rest of his life. Between races, he’s refreshing your page to see if you’ve posted. During long-haul flights, he’s watching your videos on repeat. Even at the paddock while his team is running simulations or tweaking the car setup he catches himself checking for notifications.

There are nights he barely sleeps staying up to catch you live, even if he has an early training session the next day. Between races he’ll watch your older streams on repeat, memorising the way you speak, the way you smile. Max knows he’s in too deep, but he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop.

His spending ramps up. When someone else tries to steal the spotlight in your chat, he doesn’t just outbid them, he obliterates them. He’s dropping tips that make everyone else look like amateurs, just to keep your attention squarely on him. And it works. His messages get bolder and more desperate too.

I can’t stop thinking about how good you’d look in my bed.

It’s torture watching you touch yourself, knowing I could make you feel so much better.

Tell me I’m your favourite, just once.

You should be sitting on my lap right now instead of talking to them.

Do you know how hard it is to sit here and watch you, knowing I can’t touch you?

The things I’d do to you if you were mine… you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day. Your lips part in surprise at that one, and you quickly cover your flustered reaction with a laugh. “Well, that’s… quite the statement,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. I never make promises I can’t keep.

But it’s not enough.

The idea of being just another fan starts to gnaw at him. Max Verstappen isn’t just another anything. But Max is nothing if not competitive, and the idea of being just another fan doesn’t sit well with him for long. He’s used to winning, to being first, to having the best. He wants to be the one you think about when the stream ends.

He wants to know you in ways the others never could. Where you live, what you liked to do when the camera was off, whether anyone in your life treated you as well as you deserved.

What would it take for me to get your attention?

And when you reply, laughing softly, “You’ve already got it,” it’s game over for him.

Max is playing a dangerous game. Balancing his life as one of the most recognisable athletes in the world with his growing obsession for someone who doesn’t even know who he really is. But that’s the thing about Max when he wants something he gets it. And right now, there’s nothing in the world he wants more than you.

[shockercoco]

The Lucky One

Benny Cross x reader

Warnings - jealous!reader, some swearing, smoking, mentions of smut, fluff

Word count - 2351

a/n - ngl I wanted to add smut but it just didn’t seem like it fit, also we need more benny imagines ppl👀 i hope you all enjoy :) — read part 2 here !

“I’ve told you this before, and I’ll tell you again – you are one lucky girl,” Kathy tells you from her spot next to you, nodding in Benny’s direction. “Or should I say that he’s the lucky one?”

You laugh as you follow her eyes, looking at Benny playing pool with some of the other Vandals in the corner. Just like any other weekend, you find yourself in this bar with all the other girlfriends as you watch Benny try to win a game of pool.

From the low lighting of the room, you couldn’t deny how good he looked as he leaned against the pool table, waiting his turn. You felt warmth bubble in your stomach, but you casually dismissed it. 

You definitely weren’t the only one who thought this, though, because some of the random floating girls had their eyes on him as well, staring at his tattooed arms that shined from the thin layer of sweat covering them. Some of them were even bold enough to go up to Benny and throw themselves at him, knowing that he was taken, but not caring. 

Everyone once in a while, Benny would find your eyes and shake his head in amusement from the unwanted attention.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you smile at her.

“Whatever you say. All I know is that it will always amaze me that Benny somehow convinced you to go out with him, “ she shakes her head in fake disappointment. “What a shame.”

Another laugh makes its way past your lips, causing you to choke on your drink. Kathy wasn’t dating anyone from the Vandals, but she hung around them a lot since she was close with some of the members – and of course because you were always around.

You turn around once you feel a presence sit down in the seat on the other side of you, revealing Benny who is already looking back at you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders as he gives you a wink.

“What are you saying to her now, Kathy?” he asks with a smile as he looks past you to look at her.

“Nothing she didn’t already know,” she shrugs, giving you a sly smile.

“Which is…?” Benny raises an eyebrow at her.

“It’s girl talk. We can’t tell you, and you wouldn’t want to know either,” you chime in before Kathy could answer. She is notorious for saying something that would get under his skin, but it’s not like it's unwarranted because Benny does the same thing right back to her.

Benny’s about to say something else when someone interrupts him. You all turn to look at Cockroach and Benny’s ex, Kay. Well, it’s not really his ex because they didn’t really date, it’s just a girl he used to ‘have relations’ with a while ago and who is a regular at the bar.

You shoot Kathy a knowing look, to which she returns, before looking back at the standing pair.

“Hey, Benny, a few of us are headed out to have a smoke. Do you want to join?” Cockroach asks, as he playfully shakes Benny’s shoulders. He holds out a cigarette for Benny to take, Benny’s ex gives you a smile before looking over at Benny, giving him a hopeful one and wanting him to say yes.

“Sure,” Benny answers as he grabs the cigarette from his friend’s hand before looking at you and asking, “Do you want to join?”

You shake your head at the offer. He knows you hate smoking and only put up with it because of him, but he didn’t want to leave you out.

“No, you go ahead,” you tell him.

Benny nods, before getting up from his seat and following a small group. You watch as they walk away and out the double doors, though you could still see them through the glass window.

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Kathy asks as the two of you look outside. “If I was you and a girl my man used to have sex with and offered him to smoke, I would be right behind him.”

“It’s not like he’s completely out of my eyesight,” you tell her, your eyes still on Benny. You watch as he accepts a lighter Kay offers, leaning down to light the cigarette with it still in his mouth. He takes a deep breath in and then slowly exhales, a cloud of smoke floating out of his mouth.

“I’m not doubting him, believe me that man loves you too much to even give someone else a chance. I’ve never seen him like this. I am doubting that girl though.”

“I’m not too worried about her,” you point out, but you feel your body contradict itself as you watch Kay laugh at something and place a hand on Benny’s arm to keep herself steady.

You don’t know much about Kay, but from what you’ve seen around the hangout, she seemed nice. Well, nice enough. It’s not like she and Benny broke off on bad terms either, they just stopped seeing each other since Benny had decided to leave town for a couple months. And it’s not like she isn’t attractive.

That had always been one of your biggest fears when it came to your relationship – Benny just deciding to up and leave you without a moment’s notice, or just randomly drop you from his life. He seemed to be pretty happy and content with you, though, always wanting to be around you. That didn’t stop that fear from lingering in the back of your head.

You shake your head, an attempt to make your thoughts disappear, and take a sip from the drink you had been nursing.

Throughout the night, you stay around Kathy. The two of you have a couple more drinks as you both decide to play some rounds at the pool table since most of the guys had walked away. Some of the guys you and Kathy did  like were around to play as well. You joined in on some of the bets and even ended up winning some money, but some of the guys got upset.

While all of this was happening, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking out of the window at Benny. It was mainly to admire him, but you can’t deny the fact that you were trying to read everyone’s lips through the glass. I mean, you couldn’t help yourself. It seemed like Kay was constantly laughing at things Benny would say and vice versa. Then again, they could be pity laughs. You hope they were just pity laughs.

Benny didn’t come back inside until the night ended and people were beginning to head home. He said his goodbyes, even to Kay, before coming back inside and searching for you. His eyes land on you near the pool table with Kathy and he makes his way towards you, grabbing your jacket and his.

“You ready to go?” you hear Benny ask from behind you.

“Oh, yeah. I guess it is late,” you turn around to look at him, no Kay in sight. You put the pool stick back in its spot, Kathy doing the same. 

He hands you your jacket before putting on his leather one as you all exit the bar. 

“You two be careful getting home,” Kathy tells the two of you, mostly to Benny as a warning. He rolls his eyes in response.

“Relax, Kathy, she’ll be fine,” Benny says, handing you a helmet before starting the engine of his motorcycle.

You watch as Kathy walks away, heading towards one of the Vandals already on their bikes and asks for a ride home. You give her a wave as Benny pulls off, before wrapping your arms around his waist, hoping he doesn’t do anything too reckless on the way home.

You hate that you feel this way about Benny staying outside practically the whole night. It’s not like it’s a new thing for him since it's common to see some of the Vandals outside enjoying a cigarette. It’s just that you weren’t a huge fan of Kay being in his company, for an extended period of time at that. 

Again though, you shouldn’t care because he’s going home with you tonight and not her, but you still do.

When the two of you arrive back to your place, you quickly dismount the bike and head inside to take a shower, not wanting Benny to see your face because there’s no doubt that he’ll be able to see right through you. 

You hope he doesn’t try to join you in the shower either, since you’re not particularly in the mood at the moment. Thankfully he doesn’t and just sprawls out on the bed and waits for his turn in the bathroom.

While Benny’s in the shower, you decide to go downstairs and make a cup of tea to help you relax – reading a random newspaper while you wait for the water to boil on the stove. Hopefully this will help you get over the petty thoughts in your mind.

“I forgot to ask you, the guys are having this picnic in a couple of days and I was wondering if you wanted to come?” you hear Benny ask as he enters the kitchen. You glance out of the corner of your eye and take in his appearance – he’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top with his hair still damp.

“Yeah,” you answer, keeping your eyes on the paper on the counter. “Who’s going to be there? everyone?”

He starts listing off some names.

“And Kay?” you ask.

“I guess so, yeah,” Benny blinks, confused as to why you asked, but choosing to ignore it. 

It’s silent for a moment, neither of you saying anything next. Then you hear the sound of boiling water, so you move from leaning against the counter to pour the water into a cup, the tea bag already sitting inside.

Behind you, Benny is staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sensing something is up and trying to figure out what. He didn’t do anything tonight, at least he doesn’t think he did, so why did you seem upset? Was it because of someone back at the bar, one of the Vandals?

“What’s up with you?” Benny asks with a tilt of his head.

“Nothing, why?” you shrug, giving the water in a cup a small stir before grabbing your newspaper to read again.

“Because you’ve barely said anything since we left the bar, so what is it?” he asks as he steps closer to you.

“I just said something.”

“Oh wow, four whole sentences,” he sarcastically says. “I’m serious.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m fine, I’m just tired.”

Benny doesn’t believe it for a second. He steps closer to you and takes the newspaper from your hands, wanting you to look at him. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

“What are you doing?” you turn to look at him.

“No, what are you doing? What’s up with this little mood you’re in?”

“Benny, please, it’s too late for this,” you roll your eyes and turn away, reaching for your cup. So much for relaxation.

Benny takes that from your hands too, moving everything out of your reach and using his body to press you against the counter. It took him a minute, but he thinks he has an answer.

“What’s your problem?”

“Why did you ask if Kay was going to the picnic?” 

“I didn’t know it was a problem for me wanting to know who’s attending,” you fold your arms across your chest, you glare up at him.

“It’s not, but you never ask about her. So what is it really?”

“What are you trying to accuse me of?”

“We both know what,” Benny leans down closer to your face, placing his arms on the counter on both sides of you. “I just need you to say it.”

“Fuck you,” you stare into his eyes, his gaze just as intense.

And fuck him for being able to read you like a book.

“So it’s true, then?” He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

There was no way in hell you were going to say you were jealous.

But Benny will. “There’s no need for this facade anymore. You’re jealous, and that’s okay,” He smirks.

You just stare back at him, your jaw clenched and slightly embarrassed.

“And what’s even funnier is that it’s because of someone like her,” he laughs.

You don’t say anything, but look away from his gaze.

“Oh come on, baby, don’t be like that,” He told you, moving his head to try and meet your gaze, but you don’t budge and continue to stare at the wall. “You would think that the fact that I’m sleeping in the house with you is confirmation enough that you’re the one I care for. Not to mention the countless times I’ve left you speechless in the bedroom.”

“Benny!” you gasp, shoving him away from you, but he just comes right back. 

“What made you jealous of her?” He questions, his smirk disappearing and his face becoming more serious.

“Nothing important,” you tell him, trying to get him to drop this conversation. You really were tired, and buddy wanted to go to sleep after an eventful night, but it’s Benny.

“No, no, no. Tell me,” He shakes his head before adding, “Don’t make me force it out of you.”

You hesitate for a moment. “She was practically all over you outside the bar, and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you admit.

“I noticed that too, but I didn’t want to make a scene,” he says and you shoot him another glare. “But since you seem to care so much, I’ll remember to make one next time.”

He glanced down at your lips for a second before leaning in to close the gap between the two of you, but you move your head out of the way and press your finger against his lips.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” He mumbles. “What now?”

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[hotvintagepoll]

Hello! Do you have a favorite winter recipe? I'm looking to expand my repertoire, because I've only lived in a climate that snows for a couple years, and I don't have enough cozy, bone warming foods!

PS - I keep having to feed my cat pumpkin puree because he has some tummy troubles but he will only eat it if I gently hand feed him with a spoon. Just thought you might enjoy that.

YES HERE IS JOYOUS SOUP

(i have never actually called it joyous soup but it's what i feel everytime i make it and i feel like everyone should make it)

This soup does not have a proper recipe because uhh, my mom is bad with recipes but ALSO this soup truly adapts to whatever you have in your fridge, as long as you have 1) some kind of oil or butter to sautee things with and 2) potatoes. this is the sam gamgee make-it-on-the-side-of-a-mountain-winter soup.

Step 1. Take your potatoes—6 is the ideal but 4 works—and chop them up rough. "What kind of potatoes?" Whatever they have on the side of the mountain, Sam. You now have a bunch of 1" potato chunks or discs (I like discs). I assumed you washed them first but if you forgot you can wash them now.

Step 2. Get your oil or butter sizzling. I use about two tablespoons of butter to start and add more as I go if the potatoes don't look fully covered. I am probably cooking the butter on medium.

Step 3. You're putting the potatoes in the butter. You're pretending to fry them. Watch them get all buttery and golden and a little brown and crispy. You're thinking, man, I could eat these as they are right now. You could do that. Don't. Add garlic and onions if you have them. Add lots.

Step 4. Just as you're like oh MAN these potatoes and garlic and onions look really good fried just like this, you're going to swamp them in water. You're going to stare at what you've done and thought you made a mistake. You have not. The water should just be covering the potatoes and now you've turned the water up to high, staring at your weird sad soup pot, that smells deliciously of butter garlic onions and potatoes.

Step 5. In another saucepan, you are melting more butter (or oil, or what have you) and figuring out what else you have in your cupboard. Carrots? Those can go in. Parsnips could too. Spinach works nicely. Any onions or garlic you forgot can be added again now. Mushrooms are fucking fabulous. Leeks? Sublime. The only veg you should be avoiding are the ones that are secretly fruits (no watery tomatoes or squishy cucumbers) or the ones that you think are insipid (celery).

Step 6. You're chopping all of that up as much as you like and browning it up in the butter. You're also adding whatever spices strike your fancy. I love salt, so that's always going in, but I usually add black pepper and cayenne, and then I get fruity with it and start adding in paprikas and cumins and turmerics or corianders and thymes and basils and parsleys. It all depends on what smells right to you combined with the steams you're making, and how much spice you want kicking you later.

Step 7. How are your boiled potatoes looking? Are they soft yet? Good. Can you stick a fork in them yet, and has the water boiled down to almost nothing? Excellent. How are all your buttery brown vegetables looking? If you want to give up the whole experiment and eat them right out of the pan, it's time to make another mistake and add all your gorgeous browned vegetables to your disastrous wet potato pot.

Step 8. You now have a lot of delicious stuff looking wet and sad in your potato pot. Pour in a bit more water (or veg broth, or stock if you have it) and stir that all up. Let it stew together a bit and combine flavors. Turn it back down to medium so you don’t scorch any of your nice wet veg things. If you're fancy like my mom, you get out an immersion blender here. If you're broke and possess your grandmother's food processor, like me, you're pouring that all into the food processor with the biggest blade you have and turning it into a smoothie. If your concoction seems oddly chunky you need to add more water.

Step 9. Wet sad potato smoothie is not much to look at but now you're adding CREAM. and CHEESE. and MORE SPICES TO YOUR TASTE. If you don't have cream MILK WORKS FINE. If you don't have cheese THAT IS OKAY. If you like your soup with chunks LEAVE OUT SOME OF YOUR VEG NEXT TIME and ADD IT IN HERE. At this point, you have a gorgeous creamy soup that's soft and luscious (that's the potatoes), includes all your favorite veg (that's everything you got out of the fridge), and can go in any number of taste directions depending on what spices you put in (I've made this with Indian spices, English herb garden spices, Mexican spices, Hungarian spices—every time it's delicious and works a different way).

Step 10. I hope you have a lot of bread because you're going to be dipping it in your soup saying :) man this is a nice soup :) and knowing you can make it whenever you have weird leftovers, as long as you have potatoes and butter. and what else does a person need in life than potatoes and butter?

enjoy your joyous soup <3 i may have forgotten several steps but as long as you follow -brown some veg -add water -add spice -blend the shit out of it, you can never really go wrong <3

[bucketbueckers]

RECKLESS DRIVING

CHAPTER FIVE

content: language, cam is a big fat homo (affectionate), bobby and gatsby are the real stars of this chapter, ap lit mention (iykyk), poorly written hoops, reporters!! journalists!!! men!!!!!!

wc: 8.1k

notes: in honor of the dallas L (fire chris and fire curt and fire whoever hired curt) but mostly in honor of the anon who asked if i had anything for tonight. this one is for you. lowkey kind of a boring chapter i think but we're moving into the season which is rly exciting ‼️ also im so sorry this took forever to get out LMAO but i have a lot of plans and a lot of chaos to create so as always i rly hope y'all enjoy and lmk what you think 🫶

tags: @cowboybueckers @indigo491 @wnba-scotland @volleyballgirlsblog @sillystarv @middyprincess @intoblonde6ftwbbplayers @user1269 @fivest4rbuecks @everyonewatchesuconnwbb @lilpaigeyherbo @simp4panos

Cam has a few memories that she looks back on with a mix of fondness and an ever present, Holy shit. I can’t believe people let me do that.

When she was around seven, she declared that she and Coley were twins – best friends. Something in between yet far beyond their actual sisterly relationship. Because she and Coley were self-proclaimed twins, and because Cam looked up to her like she hung the stars in the sky, Cam made everyone start calling her by her middle name Camille. “C for Camille and C for Colette,” she had said with pride when her parents asked why, because what was wrong with Livya?

For the record – there was absolutely nothing wrong with her first name besides the fact that she wanted to be just like her older sister, as many younger siblings did. Coley never lets her live that one down. But Cam has stuck, so there’s not much of a point in fixing what isn’t broken.

Then, during her sophomore season in the league after she got tired of the whole “being alone in her own apartment” thing, she adopted Bobby and Gatsby. They weren’t brothers, but they were a package deal after Bobby wormed his way into Gatsby’s litter when he was a kitten. To celebrate their adoption, Cam threw a party for them.

Like, buying a cat safe cake party. Like, purchasing a $20 party hat and bowtie set from Amazon and somehow getting her sons to sit still long enough to dress up for the occasion, party. Like, inviting Coley and a few of her teammates and having them sing an off-key and giggled rendition of “Happy Adoption, dear Bobby and Gatsby” party.

Cam loves her sons. But then the cake upset Gatsby’s tummy and he threw up all over a rug that Cam couldn’t be bothered to clean properly, so she just threw it out. She decided that maybe there would be no more parties or cake for them.

Cam thinks that she might be in the middle of one of these fond but what the fuck memories right now, because it’s Friday morning, the Wings are hosting the Lynx at home later in the evening, and she’s currently hunched over her countertop with flour streaked across her face, her brows furrowed in concentration as she carefully squeezes thin, sloping lines of purple icing across a bed of buttercream.

Congratulations, Rook! is what the cake reads when she dots her exclamation point. She steps back to appraise her work. For the most part, her writing is pretty straight and doesn’t look awful. The cake itself is a two layered vanilla covered in the buttercream topping that her grandmother used to swear by, and the edges are lined with dollops of the cream.

It looks nice. Clean.

Cam frowns. She’s a basketball player, not a cake decorator, so she’s not quite sure what else she’s supposed to put on the cake with her limited materials and expertise. With the same purple icing, she carefully expands the dot at the base of her exclamation point, turning it into a larger circle. Then, she adds in laces at the center until the exclamation point is dotted with a basketball.

She looks at it again. Smiles. Then, for good measure, she dots the “I” in Congratulations with another basketball, and immediately sets down the Ziploc-turned-piping bag before she gets too overzealous with the icing and inevitably fucks it up.

Cam is well aware that this entire baking a cake for your rookie thing is a little out of character and completely extra, especially considering the fact that it was to celebrate said rookie’s first WNBA start and her debut. If DiJonai, however, were to ask, Cam would probably add in the fact that this rookie’s hometown has also renamed itself in her honor for the day, so, reasonably, it warrants a cake.

She’s not sure where the urge came from. She was on her morning jog when inspiration struck, which led to her taking a detour to the nearest grocery store and getting supplies. Cam started baking before she could talk herself out of it, and, well, here she was.

Paige was on her way, having asked if Cam wanted to carpool to shootaround before their game against the Lynx. Cam is beginning to see that she truly has a problem saying no – or a problem with not wanting to say no, but teammates carpool to team events all the time! She and Maddy used to, in fact, although it probably had something to do with how they used to live in the same apartment complex before Maddy’s lease expired and she relocated somewhere with cheaper rent.

Either way, Paige was on her way, Cam managed to not fuck up the cake, and the new, more pressing issues were that she smelled like buttercream and her fingers were stained red and blue because, for all of her earthly wisdom, she forgot to pick up actual purple icing at the store.

This entire situation is just such a fucking mess. Cam is a mess – has there ever been a veteran in the history of the WNBA who obsessively baked her rookie a cake the day before her first professional start? Sure, there’s saying congratulations, but there’s also “Congratulations! Yes, I baked you a cake at 10am to celebrate the fact your hometown renamed itself after you. That’s not weird at all.”

Not weird, Cam thinks to herself, sighing when the dye doesn’t come off after two thorough washes with water and three different kinds of hand soap. Just…embarrassingly thoughtful. And also kind of pathetic.

A rustle at the kitchen counter draws her attention, and she turns on her heel to find Bobby sitting on one of the barstools – his barstool, because yes, Bobby and Gatsby have assigned seating. For an orange cat who Cam once watched chase his own shadow, Bobby looks too judgemental and smug, and Cam huffs as she gently places the glass lid over the cake. “Don’t look at me like that,” she mutters, and Bobby just blinks once, staring at her.

And, God, Cam wasn’t sure when she lost her backbone, because she rolls her eyes and reaches into the cabinet to grab her sons’ treat bag as Gatsby flies into the kitchen at the first crinkle. “Biblical gluttony,” she says, although her words fall on deaf ears while she offers one to each of her cats.

Fortunately, Cam hasn’t quite reached the stage in her pitiful, baking induced, gay panic hysteria where she’d mournfully vent to creatures who only seem to understand English when food is involved, but when she glances back at the product of said hysteria, sitting prettily at the center of her counter, she honest to God starts thinking about it.

Cam didn’t think it would get this out of hand. Granted, when she slept with Paige, the issue was that she wasn’t thinking at all, but she tried to reason that the worst thing that could happen following that night was making things weird in the locker room. At best, she’d just think about it at increasingly inappropriate times, like at practice the other day when NaLyssa blocked Paige during a scrimmage, and Paige jokingly said, “Oh, it’s like that?” and all Cam could think about was how that was the exact thing Paige said when Cam told her she needed to say please.

With a resounding clap, Cam smacks her palms against her face, burying her head in her hands with an irritated groan. Bobby and Gatsby look at her in that judgmental, cat way they do, even though they have no room to be assholes because Cam can’t keep track of how often she needs to pry their claws out of blankets when they get stuck and meow at her pitifully until she comes to their rescue.

Cam hates this. She thought that these…feelings would stay physical. That she’d be able to get her shit together, move on from that night, and do her best to help Paige adjust to the league without complicating things between them anymore.

Now, they’re carpooling to practices together, texting late at night when Paige sends her pictures of whatever vegetable-lacking monstrosity she cooks, and Cam just spent an hour on making her a fucking cake and decorating it.

You could argue those were friend things. But Cam knows better. She’s never baked DiJonai a cake a day in her life. She’s blurring the lines between what she and Paige agreed on, and the most damning part of that, the part that makes her want to give in, is the fact that Paige seems to be blurring the lines, too.

Paige drives her around like Cam doesn’t have a car and lives on the other side of town. She looks to her for advice, reassurance, and coaching on the plays she runs or how she could do it better. And Cam still has yet to get over how Paige brushed her fingers so gently across her wrist as she opened up about an injury she’d only ever confided to DiJonai and Coley in, aside from her trainers and her doctors.

She’s doomed. When she dies, she wants her body donated to science and for someone to examine her brain, because clearly all these years of basketball have resulted in some form of irreversible damage to her prefrontal cortex.

Clean is what she reminds herself, even though she’s thinking about how unclean they’ve made things, how she and Paige seem to dance around what they both know to be true, as if refusing to name how they feel means that the feelings don’t exist at all. Like blurring the lines isn’t the same as crossing them fully.

Then, Bobby meows again, licking his lips, and Cam narrows her eyes. Gatsby’s expression is one of pure innocence, but Cam knows her sons well enough to realize when they’re trying to play her for another treat.

She also knows that she can’t say no to them. Begrudgingly, she gives them one more each, then hides the treat bag away safely as a knock echoes against wood. Cam tries to ignore the anticipation she feels, wiping her palms against her shorts, and crosses her apartment to the front door.

Paige stands on the other side, one hand in her pocket and the other holding an iced drink. A smile lights up her face at the sight of Cam, and, embarrassingly, Cam can’t bite back a smile of her own as she opens the door wider for her rookie. “Hey,” Paige greets as she steps through the doorway, her arm brushing gently against Cam’s. The door clicks shut behind them while Paige toes off her slides, having been briefed on Cam’s no shoes inside rule that she’d picked up from her mother. “Happy game day.”

“Happy debut day,” Cam corrects, nudging Paige with her elbow. A sheepish flush creeps up her neck. “How’s it feel to have a city named after you?”

“Like fake news,” Paige says honestly, making Cam laugh. She holds out the drink to Cam, who raises a brow in confusion. “For you,” the blonde clarifies, her smile widening when Cam accepts it. “Iced chai. I noticed during preseason that you always get one before shootaround, so…” Paige’s voice trails off, shrugging a little.

Has Cam ever mentioned how much she hates this? She hopes her cheeks aren’t as red as they feel, but she knows it’s a useless wish.

She clears her throat, willing her wildly pathetic thoughts to go away as she says softly, “Thank you.” Paige’s smile turns tender, the apples of her cheeks popping out, and she just tilts her head like she didn’t need a thank you for looking out for Cam. “I have something for you, too.”

Paige blinks at that, clearly shocked, but she follows Cam deeper into her apartment towards the kitchen. Bobby and Gatsby are still sat on their barstools, with Gatsby meticulously cleaning his paws and Bobby lounging, but Cam’s laser focused on the cake. She sets her iced chai down, shielding the cake with her body, and with a nervous smile, she requests, “Close your eyes.”

Paige huffs out a little laugh, but does as she’s asked, even throwing her hands over her eyes for good measure. “I ain’t know it was like that,” she teases, voice dripping with insinuation, and Cam rolls her eyes to keep her unwanted thoughts at bay.

“Don’t piss me off,” she mutters, closing her fingers around the lid and gingerly pulling it off so it doesn’t fuck up the icing she’d spent an uncomfortable amount of time mixing, transferring to the piping bags, and decorating with. She doesn’t have to turn around to see Paige’s smug smirk,  but she positions the cake to her liking so she can read the writing, and she hates how soft her voice sounds as she says, “Okay, you can open them.”

Paige’s hands fall to her sides, eyes blinking open, but her gaze is set on Cam until she notices the cake next to her. Whatever funny comment she had ready fizzles out and dies on her tongue as she reads Cam’s looping cursive, the Congratulations, Rook! and every basketball-dotted letter.

Her entire expression melts, even if her smile widens in disbelief and adoration. Cam’s never seen her look like this before, not when the team gave her (and the other rookies) a round of applause at training camp, nor when Chris and Curt broke the news at the end of camp that she’d earned her roster spot – as if that much wasn’t already obvious. The closest thing Cam has to compare this to was the wide-eyed and stunned excitement that came when it actually sunk in that she’d been drafted.

And, if Cam is being really honest, she really hates how that makes her chest feel warm.

“Cam, you ain’t have to do all this,” Paige says, but she’s still looking at the cake like no one’s ever made this kind of effort for her.

Cam’s first instinct is to scoff, because Paige needs to be so for real. Then, she takes in her expression a little longer and realizes just how much this actually means to her. The cake itself is a small gesture, but it’s a meaningful one. It’s I chose to take time out of my day to make something for you because I wanted to celebrate you.

In a way, it’s what Paige just did for her. Cam knows that there’s not a coffee shop on the way to her apartment from Paige’s place. She knows that Paige not only went out of her way to get her an iced chai latte just because she knows that Cam drinks them before shootarounds, but also she went further out of her way to go to Cam’s apartment to begin with. It’s the intention, the small sacrifices like these, that make Cam feel like she’s losing all restraint and that it wasn’t a battle she was ever going to win.

Instead, she settles on a comforting smile, her voice hardly above a whisper as she says, “You deserve it, Paige.”

Paige’s smile, somehow, becomes softer, and she looks up from the cake to make eye contact with Cam. Something heavy in her gaze settles like she’s seeing Cam in a different light.

Then, she steps closer, and the fact that Cam is leaning against the counter makes it so she’s just slightly shorter than Paige, forcing her to look up at her. Cam can feel her heartbeat in her throat, but she can’t move away. She doesn’t want to.

Paige reaches out gently, her hand cupping Cam’s face as her thumb brushes across her cheekbone.

And then she pulls back as quickly as she’d reached for her. Holds out her thumb for Cam to see, showcasing the white smudge of flour against her skin, dimples popping in amusement and fondness. “You didn’t have to fight the flour sack for me, too,” she murmurs, smirking. “I would’ve been happy with just the cake.”

Cam rolls her eyes with a huff, putting plenty of space between her and Paige’s annoying ass as she moves towards the sink, tearing off a paper towel from the roll and wetting it under the stream of water. Paige is laughing like she didn’t just leave Cam high and dry – but thinking about it, that’s probably the exact same thing that Cam did when she kissed Paige’s knee tape like a fucking freak.

“You piss me off so bad,” Cam comments, wiping the remnants of the flour off her cheek, hoping that she can scrape off her blush, too. “It’s like you–”

But Cam stops dead in her tracks when she turns around, because Paige has moved from one end of the kitchen counter to the other, where she’s cradling Gatsby in her arms like he’s a baby. Like, a human baby. She’s full on scratching his chin with one finger, her eyes bright in adoration, and Cam just... malfunctions. 

Bobby and Gatsby weren’t assholes by any means. Well, not in the bite your face off kind of way, but it has been established that they’re judgmental and very treat-driven. They’re both very introverted and usually stay far away from strangers – it took Coley two months to get the both of them to like her.

Paige hasn’t even been inside of her apartment for thirty minutes and she already has Gatsby wrapped around her finger. Bobby, too, who’s staring up at her with the most pitiful expression on his face. Paige drops her hand to pet him gently on his head. Cam can hear his purrs from across the kitchen.

She’s sure that there’s some deep rooted maternal instinct in her body that awakens at the sight of Paige smiling at both of her sons. Bobby and Gatsby have never expressed any discomfort or sadness in having only one parent, but Cam can’t take her eyes off of them, and, honestly, a very unwelcome thought pertaining to whether or not Paige wants to be a step-father nearly makes Cam turn back to the sink and water board herself.

“What are you doing?” she blurts before she can stop herself, wincing at how genuinely shocked she sounds.

“Makin’ friends,” Paige says calmly, the veins in her hands popping as she adjusts Gatsby in her hold. Cam forces herself to look away before she does something really stupid. “‘It’s like I’ what? I was listenin’, I promise.”

Cam doesn’t even know what she’s talking about. She spins on her heel, peering inside the treat cabinet to make sure Paige hadn’t snuck in while her back was turned to bribe her sons, and sure enough, their treat bag is untouched. She closes the cabinet door, crossing her arms in disbelief.

“They’re never like this with strangers,” Cam says, stepping closer to Paige. She peers over her shoulder at Gatsby, who’s curled against Paige’s side in pure contentment. “They hated my mom for three weeks.”

Paige shrugs a shoulder, her smile somehow soft and smug at the same time. Cam hates the way it looks on her face. “Guess the Romans just find me irresistible,” she teases. “Even the ones you haven’t introduced me to.”

Cam bites her lips to curb a smile, not dignifying the first part of her statement with a response. “You’re holding Gatsby,” she informs her, curling her arm around Paige’s to scratch his head. “And the one who looks like he’s about to fall out is Bobby.”

“Okay, Gatsby I kinda understand,” Paige states. “‘Cause he’s a tuxedo, right? And Gatsby always wore a suit?” Cam gives her a surprised look, like she hadn’t been expecting Paige to catch on. The blonde huffs. “Don’t look at me like that. I happened to be good at AP Lit, thank you!”

Cam rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. But yeah. He’s named after a really down bad millionaire. Bobby is just…orange.”

Paige nods solemnly. “Poor guy.”

At that, Cam can’t help her snort, and she checks the time on her watch before sighing. “Okay, petting zoo’s closed. We really got to go.”

With evident sadness and lots of apologies, Paige disentangles herself from Gatsby and gives Bobby one last goodbye pat on the head. She lingers in the kitchen as Cam carefully slices the cake into equal pieces, sliding half of it into a tupperware large enough. Cam pauses, knowing Paige well enough at this point, and she sticks a plastic fork inside the tupperware for when she inevitably tears into a slice at shootaround.

Content, Cam says goodbye to her sons, locking the door behind her and Paige as they make their way to the elevator. She tries her best to ignore the strong, relentless thump in her chest, but it’s no use. She’s in deeper with Paige than she thought she would be, and the worst part is that she knows she can’t give into the feeling of it all.

The Dallas Wings home arena is packed.

It’s a crowd that slowly started amassing last year, but countless fans line the seats from courtside to the nosebleeds. The Bueckers and Ogunbowale jerseys make up the overwhelming majority, although there’s a ton of Roman jerseys that stick out.

That’s one thing that Cam doesn’t think she’ll ever fully get used to – people representing not only her team, but her. It’s humbling in the best way possible and it means more to her than she thinks any of the fans actually know.

Shootaround had gone by with little issue, then everyone was released to go back home and relax before they needed to be back for pregame warm ups. They’d also come and gone quickly, the only real passage of time being marked by the filling of the stands. Everyone was locked in on their warm ups, whether it be stretches, or footwork drills, or shooting drills.

Minnesota would be a tough team to beat, let alone keep pace with. But Cam truly felt as though they’d made a lot of progress during camp together as well as during the preseason games. At this point, she was just hoping for a good game with no bullshit calls and that Phee would have mercy on her from one Lunar Owl to another.

Paige is sitting next to her right on the bench for warm ups with Arike on the other side of them. Arike is locked in a quiet conversation with NaLyssa while the arena gathers momentum to announce the starting lineups, but Cam can’t focus on anything that’s not the incessant tapping of Paige’s foot against the polished wood of the court.

When Cam looks over, Paige’s eyes are unfocused, not really staring at anything but staring blankly into space. She doesn’t know where her head’s at – whether it’s nerves, or anticipation, or just a normal, if not incredibly ADHD way of keeping herself sane for the game. Whatever it is, Cam rests her palm over her knee, not applying pressure, but Paige stops shaking immediately. Her eyes have refocused when she meets the brown of Cam’s gaze.

“You good?” Cam asks, her voice only loud enough for Paige to hear.

Paige nods resolutely. “Just nerves,” she says, and Cam’s gaze softens. “I’ll be fine once I’m off the bench.”

Cam smirks a little. “Don’t get too comfortable out there,” she responds. “Phee’s gonna tap your shoulder and send your ass to the trainer’s room and you’ll be riding the bench for the rest of the season.”

Paige shoots her a look of mock-horror. Then, as if to ward off the bad energy, she taps her forehead, her chest, and both of her shoulders in prayer, which makes Cam snort. Cam moves her hand off of Paige’s knee, but presses their thighs together to offer a little bit of comfort while they wait out the Lynx starting five introductions.

The lights dim, the jumbotron above coming to life with the Wings digital introduction hype video. No matter how often Cam watches them, they never fail to make her smile, and she keeps her gaze trained on the screen until it ends. The spotlight moves over to the bench, and the announcer starts with Myisha. Then Arike. Then NaLyssa. Cam high fives each one of them until it’s her turn to be called.

“A 6’2 forward from Stanford, number seven, Camille Roman!”

She’s out of her seat with a grin, smacking her palms against Paige’s eagerly, and she high fives the rest of her team as she makes her way to line up with Myisha, Arike, and NaLyssa.

“A 6’0 guard from UConn, number five, Paige Bueckers!”

When Paige stands, she pretends to high five an invisible bench, and she’s beaming when she joins the rest of the starters. In the huddle, Paige’s voice doesn’t waver as she reminds them about trusting each other and playing their game. Cam tries to ignore the surge of pride at how far she’s come from camp alone, but she’s smiling anyways.

They all make sure their jerseys are tucked, then they jog to center court for the opening tip. Cam makes sure to hug Phee and Courtney and gives the rest of the Lynx starters respectful handshakes. Phee and NaLyssa stand across from each other from the tip, and NaLyssa wins, sending the ball Cam’s way. She doesn’t waste any time before immediately passing to Paige.

And, well, she gives Myisha a second to get her shoe back on before she calls the play and brings the ball up court.

Cam’s assigned defensively to Courtney on the left wing, and she makes a cut for the baseline while Paige passes to NaLyssa. There’s an immediate foul called on Jessica Shepard while she’s guarding NaLyssa which brings Cam out to the sideline to inbound the ball.

NaLyssa and Myisha are closest to her, but only Myisha gets free. Cam hovers at the perimeter, watching the ball as it is passed to Paige, who draws enough of the defenders’ attention to pass to a cutting NaLyssa. She misses, and Bridget Carleton beats Cam to the rebound.

On the other side of the court, she gets a hand up in time to contest one of Courtney’s signature midrange jumpers, and it bounces harmlessly off of the glass into NaLyssa’s hands. She passes to Paige, dribbling up court until the Lynx defense collapses just slightly. She’s darting through an open hole in their coverage, planting firmly just a few feet away from the hoop, and letting it fly from the midrange. She just barely misses. Cam’s worried that someone’s going to get fouled in the fight for the rebound, but Paige manages to catch her own miss, and shoots it again.

This time, the shot’s money, and Paige’s first official WNBA points are from a tough fight on the offensive boards and a putback. Shamelessly, Cam claps her hands and points at her rook with a grin, who’s trying not to smile as she hustles back for defense.

That’s the tone of the entire first quarter – hard fought plays for rebounds, stifling defense, and a young Wings team doing their best to keep up with the Lynx’s unforgiving gameplan. On their next possession, there’s an off-ball foul on Myisha. The Lynx are tasked with inbounding, and NaLyssa rebounds Napheesa’s fadeaway as Cam gets a hand in the air to contest.

It’s a scoreless few minutes. On the other end of the court, Bridget rebounds Myisha’s miss. Myisha rebounds Phee’s miss, and then Phee fouls Myisha in her attempt to tie the ball up. Cam and Paige help Myisha up, then Myisha is set to inbound to Paige as Cam gets to her defensive assignment.

Paige passes to NaLyssa, who circles the perimeter and passes to Arike. The guard lets it fly from three but it clangs off the rim into Karlie’s hands. She gets into the paint while bringing the ball up, but is forced to kick it out to Shepard, and Jessica blows past NaLyssa for a layup and the and-one. Jessica sinks it.

Paige dribbles up court, using a screen from Myisha to get past Bridget, and she passes to Arike on the wing. Arike circles the perimeter, passing to Myisha who hands it back and screens for her, but they get tangled in a back and forth that leads to Myisha losing her handle on the ball. Cam locks eyes with Paige, a silent conversation occuring between the two of them, and Cam blows past Courtney as Myisha passes swiftly to Paige, who passes neatly to Cam at the baseline, and she lays it in despite two defenders on her back.

Cam points to her in thanks as they both retreat on defense and Paige taps her hip.

Their transition defense is a little too slow, though, and Courtney finds a huge gap at the free throw line to easily sink a jumper. Transition defense had been a huge issue during camp and both preseason games, so Cam knows that Chris and the other coaches are going to drill it into them during their halftime adjustments and later practices.

On the next offensive possession, Paige is trying to find space in traffic while Cam hovers at the perimeter, honestly wide open as fuck, but Karlie’s defense is stifling, so Paige settles for passing to Arike. Arike passes to Myisha, who blocks Bridget with a screen and draws enough of Phee’s attention that Arike squeezes by, drawing NaLyssa’s defender and Paige’s defender, and she kicks out to NaLyssa at the wing, who passes once more to Cam, and she lets it fly.

Her three is money and the arena roars. With a quick and efficient 5 of the Wing’s 7 points, Cam backpedals for defense.

The game is a relentless back and forth – by the end of the first, Dallas leads 21-19, Cam has nine and a few rebounds, and she appreciates the slight reprieve in between the quarters to catch her breath.

The second quarter starts similarly, although Cam’s pulled about three minutes in for DiJonai. She gets a few minutes to breathe on the bench until the media timeout, where Phee is set to even the score off of a foul. After the timeout, Cam subs back in for Ty, watches Phee sink her free throws, and the game keeps rolling.

NaLyssa scores off of an assist from Arike. Phee lays the ball in with help from Courtney and completes the three point play after NaLyssa fouls her at the basket. Maddy subs in for NaLyssa while Phee shoots her free throw; then Natisha fouls Arike, leading to even more free throws.

After that possession, Cam taps the ball out of Phee’s hands, and Arike picks it up as she hauls ass down the court, blowing past Courtney and sinking the shot with a clean midrange jumper.

Throughout the rest of the half, the Lynx don’t let up, but neither do the Wings. They’re tied at 46 a piece heading into halftime after two clutch free throws from Arike and a clean inbounds steal from Cam that resulted in Maddy laying it in. Cam, unfortunately, couldn’t get another inbounds steal, but they head back to the locker room with a ton of momentum.

Chris emphasizes togetherness (whatever the fuck that means) in his halftime speech. As expected, he does emphasize the need for better communicated transition defense as well as better awareness in regards to fouling.

After halftime, they’re back on court and energized, ready for another twenty minutes. The Lynx were ready, too, extending their lead by a lot. By the end of the third, the Lynx lead them 81-66. A collapse like this is nothing short of frustrating, especially since they’d had it tied up at the end of the second quarter.

Cam doesn’t stop hustling until the last three minutes of the fourth quarter when she’s finally subbed out. With the Lynx up 96-75, there was no coming back from a deficit that bad. Cam plops down onto the bench next to Paige, her jersey sticking to her skin a little uncomfortably as she breathes heavily.

Then, she nudges Paige, the barest hint of a smile on her face despite the exhaustion. “10 points, 7 boards? Who you feelin’ like, rook?”

Paige manages a smile of her own. “Like someone who just shot thirty percent,” she states.

Cam huffs. “Do not piss me off,” she mutters. “Double digits. Almost a double double in your debut. You rebounded your own miss while stuck in between two defenders and put the ball back up for your first professional points. If I’m an ESPN analyst, I’m already pushing the Rookie of the Year agenda.”

Paige’s grin widens, tucking her chin into the towel she’s got wrapped around her neck as her cheeks flush. However, despite the clear bashfulness, she still finds it within herself to be a little shit as she says, “You defending my honor? That’s hot.”

Cam wrinkles her nose. “Shut the fuck up,” she says delicately, which makes Paige burst into laughter.

The final buzzer sounds with the Lynx, unsurprisingly, taking the win 99-84. They make their way through the handshake line, then to the locker rooms, where Chris launches into a tirade about togetherness and fighting until the very last second. Cam thinks she’s free when she strips out of her jersey, but she and Paige are both tapped to do media.

Cam briefly considers waterboarding herself for the second time that day while she washes the loss off in the shower, but ultimately decides against it because she cannot leave Bobby and Gatsby for orphans.

Paige, being the annoyingly thoughtful idiot that she is – Cam is beginning to realize that she might be turning her overwhelming feelings into aggression, which doesn’t make her feel any less but it does make her feel a little better about the entire situation – waits for her and they walk to the media room together. Chris is already sitting at the far right end of the table and Cam and Paige slide into the chairs next to him with Paige in the middle.

The moderator kicks things off by fielding questions for the coach and a few hands raise in the air instantly. Cam tunes most of it out as she looks over the stat sheet. Paige, as she’d said, had 10 points, 7 rebounds, 2 assists, and 1 block, which was a great statline for her debut. The box score wouldn’t show all of the shots she contested or how well she did defensively, but she was effective on both sides of the court.

Cam herself had an honest 16 points, 5 rebounds, 3 assists, and the lone steal from the second quarter. She slowed down on scoring after the first quarter, but the team as a whole collapsed after halftime. Their ball movement was stagnant, the shots they did take just weren’t falling, and they allowed too many defensive mishaps. Those were weaknesses that a team as good as the Lynx would exploit immediately.

It was the first game of the season. They were growing – as individuals and as teammates. Success wouldn’t be immediate although Cam would consider herself happy with the first half of basketball they played. They just had to work on, you know… playing a good second half, too, and closing out games, which would come in time.

She hopes.

When it’s clear there are no more questions for Chris, the moderator shifts to fielding questions for the players. Significantly more hands raise this time. Knowingly, Cam shifts her microphone towards Paige, who laughs as the first reporter asks his question. It’s mostly fluff concerning how she’s settling in and what her first impressions of the team are.

Paige keeps it cordial and very media trained, mentioning the go-to lines about still getting used to the weather and being thankful for her teammates as they help her get more comfortable in the league. She fields another question about her performance in the game, saying that she’s happy with how it went, but there’s always more work to do.

Finally, there’s a question directed to Cam, which she was actually happy for because she was getting bored listening to them ask Paige variations of the same question. The reporter introduces himself and his publication, saying, “Cam, we saw during preseason that you and Paige had a very strong on court connection. Can you tell us a little about what goes into that?”

Cam clears her throat, thinking it over for a moment before responding. “Sure. I mean, Paige is an elite point guard, that much has been obvious for like, five years. She has insane vision. Whether I see her or not, she always sees me, so I just do my best to get as open as possible and trust that she’ll hit me if she can, even if I blow a layup or have to pass it away.” She smiles apologetically at Paige, who stifles a laugh. “Sorry for selling your assist. It won’t happen again.”

She remembers the second part of his question. “But, uh, Paige and I have a really good friendship off the court, so that definitely helps. We spent a lot of time at training camp just talking about the plays and our playmaking tendencies. You should have seen her face when I told her I could shoot a three once in a while.”

“Self proclaimed paint warrior, by the way,” Paige comments dryly, and the reporters laugh in that scary coordinated way they do. 

Another reporter raises her hand, and the moderator nods at her. She introduces herself and then asks, “Cam, you were a former number one pick who came off an electric senior season championship win. Has that affected yours and Paige’s relationship at all, or have you been able to offer some helpful advice?”

Cam shrugs a shoulder, smiling coyly at Paige. “Whether or not it’s helpful is definitely a question for Paige, but I like to think I’ve done my part,” she answers modestly. “Getting here…for lack of a better term, can be really overwhelming. I think it’s really important to have someone in your corner who, you know, has lived it, especially as a rookie. So…I definitely had some advice for her, but with or without me, she’s doing a great job, and I think her near double-double debut proves that.”

Paige tries to hide her smile behind her microphone, but it doesn’t really work. The mood in the media room is all but ruined by the journalist who raises his hand, introduces himself, and asks, “There are a couple of clips circulating online of you at Paige’s draft party, Cam. Was there any prior contact between the two of you before the night of the draft?”

Cam keeps her face neutral, unwilling to let it show just how much this question bothers her. Not because it’s breaching on something private, but because it’s a bold-faced interrogation and Cam knows she has to play nice. She’s seen this reporter at a press conference a time or two and she knows well enough that he doesn’t stop with one sharply aimed question.

Coolly, she states, “No, Paige and I didn’t speak to one another before draft night. I met her backstage at the draft and we spoke for a while, mostly basketball related. She invited me out and I went.”

She’s content to leave it there, but as expected, he doesn’t let it go. “Do you have any comments on any of the rumors online that say you and Paige left the party together?”

She leans forward slightly, her brows raising in a quiet challenge. Her head cocks to the side. “I don’t have any comments on anything that isn’t basketball related, considering this is a basketball presser and not a TMZ news release. Do you have another question or are we just going to keep wasting each other’s time?”

Cam holds eye contact with the reporter for a few seconds. The conference room falls into a tense silence, but she doesn’t back down until he breaks eye contact, stating, “That’s all I have for you.”

She sits back in her chair without another word, spotting the slightest hint of a smile flickering on Paige’s face. The moderator asks for more questions, but it’s clear that the rest of the journalists have gotten the point. Cam is already standing and heading for the exit by the time the moderator calls it, and Paige is hot on her heels.

The blonde doesn’t say anything until they get back to the locker room, as if able to read the pinched expression on Cam’s face. Her shoulders are tense, and this right here? This was the exact thing she’d been afraid of. She was afraid of the media getting hold of the story and spinning it out of control. She was afraid of losing any sense of privacy she’d been able to hold close to her chest.

Tentatively, Paige clears her throat and asks, “You good?” as Cam slings her duffel bag over her shoulder.

Cam sighs, knowing that she can’t take her frustrations out on Paige. There was always going to be one journalist that ruined it for the rest of them, and the one from tonight was just one of the many who would. She glances at Paige, her features softening. Paige wouldn’t be mad at her for answering the way she did. She knows better than anyone else what’s at stake, especially when the media’s involved.

“I’m good,” she confirms, bouncing on her heels slightly. Paige raises a brow like she doesn’t believe her fully. Cam laughs – she was getting good at reading her. “That journalist – Kevin Langdon – just doesn’t know when to stop,” she clarifies. “He always has personal, out of pocket questions like that. In my rookie year after the All-Star break, he asked me if skipping All-Star weekend had anything to do with the conspiracy theory that I’d been caught bribing league officials for a spot. Which, what the fuck? Bribing the league with my rookie contract? They would have gotten real far with that check, huh?”

Despite herself, Paige laughs, and Cam bites back a smile of her own. “He’s just annoying,” she continues. “And a jerk. And…I didn’t want to give him anything that he could have used to smear you.” Cam nudges Paige with her elbow, her features softening with slight mischief. “But calling him out like that felt really good.”

“Happy to help,” Paige chirps. “...I think.” She falls into step behind Cam as she navigates through the winding hallways, out to the parking lot at the back of the facility. “You don’t have to worry about me, you know that?”

Cam laughs a little. “Yes, I do. I’m your vet. You’re my rook.”

Paige smiles crookedly. “Then protect yourself instead of both of us and let me deal with some of the heat,” she says. “Rookie duties, right?”

“That’s not how this works.”

Paige’s pout is only a little dramatic. “What’s this? Cam Roman making decisions for the both of us? Again?”

And for that, Cam truly has no retort, and her smirk is equal parts exasperated and fond. “You piss me off,” she says.

“Yet you’re still trying to protect me,” Paige responds, although her tone is softer now.

“Yeah,” Cam agrees quietly. Her voice has lost the sharp, teasing edge that it once had. “I am.”

They both fall silent. They exit the facility to a quiet night and an empty parking lot save for the custodial staff and some media members who haven’t finished the day’s work yet. Paige’s Jeep is parked far in the back, and Cam breathes in the cool, evening air.

Paige’s knuckles brush across the back of her hand, but she doesn’t make any effort to pull away. Paige doesn’t reach out for her either – just stuck in this back and forth limbo, the most contact either of them trust themselves to make being the slightest brushes of skin against skin.

Paige opens the passenger side door for her, watching with gentle eyes as Cam slides into the seat she’d all but made home in the past few days Paige has spent driving her around for the hell of it. She doesn’t close the door. Instead, she leans against it, her gaze finding Cam’s.

“You ever think about letting someone else be there for you?” Paige asks her, not unkindly, but tenderly. “Let someone else protect you for a change?”

For that, Cam doesn’t really have an answer. Not one that Paige wants to hear, anyways. But she settles on honesty as she admits, “I don’t know how to do that.” She swallows thickly, watching as Paige’s features soften. “I don’t know how to let go.”

That’s probably God’s honest truth – one that Cam had been too afraid of admitting. Not just now, but her entire life.

When she was younger, morphing herself into something that someone could be proud of. That meant keeping a lot of what made her Cam close to her chest because there was always going to be some part that wasn’t enough.

When she let her rookie year and the noise shape her into who she is, into someone who’s so afraid of losing her privacy that she stopped getting close to anyone that she’d hate to lose.

Paige is someone that she’d hate to lose. She’s sure that the both of them know that. The both of them also know of the price that comes with being who they are – athletes who have spent longer in the limelight than they have spent time outside of it.

For all of Cam’s wisdom, her experiences, all of the years she spent trying to unlearn and take care of the parts that are still her, she’s still so afraid of losing this little fragment of peace in her life. She’s scared of losing Paige.

But for whatever reason, that desperate urge to give in anyways still flickers brighter than any star in the night sky. The feeling of closeness, of want. It’s like she spends days constantly at war and trying to push down what she craves because she’s learned that the easiest way to protect something important to you is to keep it hidden away from people who don’t deserve to see it.

Maybe the easiest way of protecting the important things – or the important people – wasn’t hiding them. It was showing them the scary parts, the parts that didn’t quite make sense, and letting them choose you anyways. It was keeping them close and letting them protect you, too.

The blue of Paige’s gaze shines under the golden lamplight in the parking lot. “Will you try?” she murmurs, her voice barely catching above the rustling of the wind. She clarifies. “To let go. To let me protect you.”

Cam doesn’t look away from her. She can’t. She’s so earnest, so raw and so real, that daring to look at anything else feels like an admission of cowardice. Cam feels nothing short of vulnerable when she finally responds, “I’ll try,” because that’s all she could truly promise Paige.

A small smile curves loose and free over Paige’s lips anyways. Her hand raises to cup her face, her palm cool against her flushed skin, and her thumb traces the slope of her cheekbone, just as it did earlier that morning. “That’s all I ask,” she whispers.

Paige’s hand falls, brushing her knuckles in a way that would otherwise be accidental if Cam didn’t know any better, and she gently shuts the passenger door to make her way to the driver’s side seat.

Paige gets in. Starts the engine. Hits shuffle on the playlist that Cam has probably listened to three times in full since she’s been doing whatever this is with Paige. She drives down the empty Dallas roads, humming along to SZA like she hadn’t just changed Cam’s entire life philosophy with one single request.

When she pulls as close as she can to the front entrance of Cam’s apartment complex, she gazes at Cam like she’s hoping for her to finally give up on their stupid agreement to keep their relationship clean.

But Cam doesn’t. She’s not ready – not yet, her heart thrumming against her ribcage like it’d fly away completely had she not ensured that it was locked, and hid the key in a place that Paige only needed a few days to find.

So Cam says goodnight instead. And Paige says it, too, her expression impossibly fond and full of understanding, because she would never force Cam into something that she wasn’t ready for.

Paige doesn’t drive off until Cam is safely inside her building. And as she watches her headlights disappear, melting into the night, Cam gets the sickening feeling that she’s been lying to herself in more ways than one.

[nex-ture]

5 star Hsr characters' reactions to you getting them a gift for Christmas!

I have 30+ reqs I should be doing instead of this, but I really love hsr and hi3 right now, so we have to cope.

Do yall want a 4 star version?

Fugue is still learning to live her life as a "new person," so when you hand her a box, she is taken aback. She wasn't able to get you anything. Are you sure it's okay if she has this? As she opens it, you can see a small light spark, taking the new and beautiful clothing out slowly and holding them to her body, as a small smile sneaks across her face.

"Thank you Y/N, I'm sure you thought about this greatly."

Christmas is not new to Sunday. It felt more like a penacony tradition than a holiday to him. So when you returned his present with one of your own, he seemed surprised but beyond happy. Opening the gift to see a Robin album that was compatible with the music player of the express, he swears he almost cried.

"I can use this in the train car, right? I'm delighted."

On Acherons home planet, Christmas was not a very popular holiday, but that doesn't mean they didn't gift each other still. Acherons hands slowly open the box you've handed her. A new sword cover for her blade, it's decked in red and white, standing out from her purple and black outfits.

"You put a lot of effort into this, I appreciate that, Y/N."

Argenti has always valued beauty above all else, beauty in looks and personality combined. His gift was nothing less than beautiful, but yours was nothing less of gorgeous. Hair clips, earings, and new sets of jewels, he could've sworn your reflection, made them even more beautiful, however. You must be a dependent of idrila herself.

"These radiate a dazzling glow of beauty, though they could not compare to you or idrila."

Living in his own version of Hell, Aventurine was not used to many christmas customs. Sure, he and his sister celebrated together, but presents were never involved. So he showed genuine shock when you handed him a gift, he had the money now, he could simply get it himself. Yet he was surprised to see the gift was a small drawing of his sister in it.

"Is this...hah, of course, thank you, Y/N."

As the new higher elder among the Vidyadhara, Bailu was jam-packed busy. But she always had time to talk to her favorite sibling! She considered all her friends and family as siblings, and you were no different. She enjoyed every present she was allowed to open on Christmas, but yours was her favorite. Ripping open the paper to see jewelry for her horns and tail. She just might be the prettiest high elder to date.

"WAOHH, NO WAY, Y/N HELP ME PUT IT ON, AND WE CAN SHOW EX HIGH ELDER DAN HENG!"

Black Swan was accustomed to all holidays and walks of life, Christmas happened to be one of her favorites, cause you always went out of your way to get her something sweet. Her hands gratefully took the gift you've given her, a new set of tarot cards? You shouldn't have. She'll have to add them to her collection.

"You must be the sweetest thing to grace me with such a gift, I'll be sure to use them on you later."

Blade is not one for celebration, but if it interests the rest of Stellaron Hunters, he can play along. Opening the last gift to himself as everyone watches. It was a small trinket from the Luofu, a place he is banned from stepping foot on again. Though it may bring back agonizing feelings, it gives him hope that one day, all sins will be purged, and those who deserve it will understand freedom.

"I don't understand your thoughts process, but your gifts are appreciated."

A refugee on the run, like Boothill, spending Christmas with someone else? Likely story. But still, he's glad he gets to spend this day with what little family he has left. Opening the gift to see a new, classic revolver. He's over the moon excited and already showing it off in battle.

"FUDGE YEAH, WE GOTTA GO FOR TEST DRIVE NOW, GORGEOUS."

The new Supreme Guardian, Bronya, seems to be holding a big celebration for the Christmas season, and you're right by her side. Opening her gift to see a collection of items left behind my her deceased mother, Cocolia. Tears fall from her eyes as she thanks you profusely.

"I wish she was still here, even after everything. Thank you for your thought."

Svarog and Clara awaited your appearance for Christmas time. When you come with multiple gifts in your hand, Clara is beyond excited. Opening up her new toys and clothes as she shows each off to Svarog. Thanking you and Santa Claus for such thoughtful gifts.

"Mr Svarog, Santa got me light up shoes! I've seen kids in the overworld wearing things like this!"

"Yes, Saint Nick must have marked you as nice this year."

Dan Heng has always been very to himself for the most part. He isn't one to openly talk about his feelings or the things he likes, but when you gave him a portable data bank, he might just have seen stars. He loved being able to learn more about the world and the things around him, and now he doesn't have to go back to the express just to study the things he likes? Maybe this'll give him a reason to sleep in his actual room for once!

"Thank you, Y/N, I'll be sure to put this to very good use."

With most days spent traveling and figuring out new things in the world, Dr. Ratio is not one for celebration, but he won't reject your wantings to celebrate. When you handed him new electric stationary, he was satisfied. It was something he'd felt the need to replace for a while but never got around to it. It turns out you listen well.

"My sincere appreciation, you'll have to help me later."

Rushing out of her house to meet up with you before a big celebration held on the LuoFu ship. Seeing you as her fave lights up, but what's this in your hand? Alcohol!? You know her so well! You'll definitely be drinking with her tonight. Feixiao cannot wait a second more.

"Is this for me!? Let's invite the other generals over and party!"

Another Stellaron Hunter down for a celebration. Firefly is beyond excited to celebrate the holiday with you. And in the corner of your eye you can see her giggling as Kafka puts the new hair bow you bought her, in her hair. Just cause she's a fighter doesn't mean she can't also look pretty doing it.

"AHH, does it look good? I have to wear it on our next mission"

Fu Xuans' work was busy, but she always foresaw time with you, but she didn't see this gift coming. As she opened it, she saw nothing but letters singing her praises. She giggled and smiled as she read all the sweet words you wrote, saying nothing but kind things about her.

"Do you really mean this? Thank you Y/N, I'll have to step up next year."

Hard working was one word anyone would use to describe Gepard. But that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve a break sometimes. Waiting for him at his family house to celebrate with his sisters seems to be the best gift he got this year, but you gifting him his very own helmet, one that stood out from the rest of the guards? He was over the moon excited.

"For me? Are you serious? This is incredible!"

Himeko, navigator of the express, she was stoked to celebrate christmas with the express, her family. So when her gift to you was nothing less of an engagement ring. Tears fell from her eyes. Her biggest dream was to get married, and she was now going to be living out that dream with the only person she wanted to love? This might be the best day of her life.

"What...yes, I will marry you 100 times over and in every universe.."

HuoHuo was used to spending Halloween with tail and the other judges, but when you offered to join, she was over the moon! She opened her gift to see treats for Tail and a sweet treat for her. She felt so bad that you went out of your way to get her something she liked so much, and even something for tail! If you ask Tail, she definitely cried.

"WAHH, THANK YOU SO MUCH Y/N, ME AND TAIL ARE SO GREATFUL."

Christmas was Jades favorite holiday. It was a day of money maming to her and giving gifts to people she needed to show care for. Your gift to her came to a surprise. You went out of your way to buy her something? How cute. It was a new pen collection, but it was still adorable to her, even if it did seem small.

"Thank you, sweetheart, but I'm sure you'll like my gift much more."

A top chef/medic like Jiaoqiu? He might just be the easiest to shop for. All he's wanted were new kitchen gadgets, and that's what you have provided. Even though this is what he asked for, for Christmas, he's still happy that you went out of your way to listen and buy these things. Jiaoqiu might be the luckiest Foxian on any Xianzhou ship.

"New pots and pans? It appears someone had their listening ears on."

General of the LouFu, Jing Yuan, is very excited about the Christmas festival. The ship is hosting, but he is much more excited to celebrate with you. So when you gift him a painting of his long lost and nearly forgotten friends, he knows tears will fall soon. The image of Dan Feng, Yingxing, Baiheng, Jingliu, and Jing Yuan standing tall in their youth brings him sadness and bliss.

"You must tell me where you got this done and how. This is wonderful."

Jingliu, currently banned for the LuoFu for past crimes, she does not have many people to celebrate this day with, but you're more than enough. When you gift her your time and you grace, that seems like more than enough for her. A day to stop moving around the cosmos on the hunt for the Aeon of abundance. Give her the time she needs, for this is one of her only days off in the year.

"I find gifts utterly pointless when I'd much rather spend the day with you."

The Stellaron Hunters celebration continues as Kafka opens up her gift. She's delighted to see new clothes and accessories you and the other hunters chipped in to buy for her. It feels as if she's throwing a whole fashion show the minute she gets her hands on them. She swears Christmas is her favorite holiday because she gets to spend it with you, but you swear it's cause she knows she'll get new clothes.

"This dress is gorgeous, I'm sure you all want to see me in it now, right?"

The cauldron master makes her appearance for this Xianzhou celebration. Hand in hand with you, as you hand Lingsha a gift during the festivities, she's delighted to see a plush bunny keychain. You must be paying close attention to her whenever she works her abundance magic.

"Is this what you got me? You're such a sweetheart."

Luocha, a traveling merchant from worlds far out, traveling around the world makes it very difficult to buy gifts, no? But for him, it must be worth it. As you gifts...pieces of Tayzzyronths, the Aeon of propogations body. He is ecstatic to see he has new parts to add to his collection within the coffin. Jingliu might be over the moon to hear about this, too. This will ensure their victory against the Aeon of Abundance.

"Is this what I think it is? How long have you been hiding such a vital piece from me? Never mind that, this must call for celebrating. Be a dear and call Jingliu for me. We have much to discuss."

Rappa views Christmas as a battle. A battle to who can gift the best gift. Her idea of a gift was to write you a song, and yours? Gifting her new DJ gear. This works out perfectly, maybe now she can play your special song on an even better set up! Wait...don't tell me that means you've won!?

"Hell yeah, Dazzling Ninja, aka Rappa, thanks you for your gift. But know this is not the end!"

Robin always seems to be busy, but she's never too busy for you on Christmas! This is one of her only days off. Please say you'll join her in the dream to celebrate! She ecstatic when she see's your gift to her is a song you wrote yourself. She thinks music is one of the most beautiful things, and the peep hole into a persons heart. You must love her more than she knows.

"You wrote this for me!? Y/N I might cry, this is wonderful!"

Ruan Mei is usually stuck in her lab working on the revival of Aeons, maybe even making herself on Aeon. Though it's always a delight when you visit her, dropping off food and goodies this holiday season. Her smile grows as you stay behind to talk to her and watch her work her Ruan Mei magic. She was never one for big celebrations, but she always loves hanging out with you.

"Thank you for your time this evening. You're always free to come back."

Taking care of the undercity is not an easy job, but Seele manages to get it done with the help of you and Bronya. Hopefully, one day, all their hard work will finally mean something. Until then, a festival held in both the under and over city is so surprise. Seeles praying you'll ask her to go, and when you do, gifting her gold, she thinks she might cry. One day, all this work will amount to everything.

"For me? No, you should keep it for yourself, time's are tough....Thank you, Y/N"

The final Stellaron Hunter on this list and the biggest party thrower, Silver Wolf! It's no surprise her gift is game related, but she still can't help but be excited about all the new things she'd going to play. Bragging to Blade and showing off her toys, even if he doesn't seem to care all that much. She knows his nods and your smile are enough validation.

"NO WAY, I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR THIS, JUST HOW WERE YOU ABLE TO GET YOUR HANDS ON IT."

The masked fool Sparkle is not the easiest to shop for...let that be known. It's hard to figure her out, but the one thing you do know is that she loves dolls, bombs, and mischief. Your gift ended up being a plush goldfish that was yellow and red, matching her in a way. She was ecstatic, it reminded her of Vita and her other masked fool accomplices.

"Is this for me? You shouldn't have, Vita and Sampo will be so jealous, heheh."

Topaz and Numby were just as hard to shop for. The only difference seemed to be that Topaz would be grateful for anything you got her. So, getting her a giant plush that looks just like Numby? She was beyond excited. She immediately had to show Numby and send pictures to her work collèges Aventurine and Jade. This day made her feel like she was on cloud 9.

"You got me this!? Is that Numby! Oh my Aeons. THIS IS AMAZING."

Welt is no stranger to the holidays, he used to celebrate every year with his son. Yet he must move on and celebrate with his nee family. You included. He enjoyed all his gifts, but yours was his favorite. Looking around in excitement as he opened the box to see illustrations of his "TV shows". Drawings of how you and the other nameless viewed his own history. It almost brought him to tears.

"This is lovely, can you help me figure out who is who, I'm a little lost on a few."

As a Cloud knight, Yanqing felt a sense of responsibility with this up coming Christmas festival. But that didn't make him want to soend it with you any less. So when he sees that you got him brang knew throwing swords, he cried. Tears streaming down as he hugged you, singing your praises for such a thoughtful gift.

"T-THANK YOU SO MUCH Y/NNNN, YOU'RE SO AMAZING."

Yunli was used to receiving gifts of all kinds, yet she always had to buy herself her favorite thing. Giant swords. So when she saw you carry in a box, almost as tall as you, her face lit up. When you gave her to ok to open it, she almost fell to her knees. It was the most beautiful and biggest sword she'd ever laid her eyes on. And it was all hers! There's no way she could find enough words to thank you for this one.

"THIS IS MINE? I'M GONNA TRAIN TEN TIMES HARDER WITH THIS."

[ninikrumbs]

move in with me

satoru gojo x reader. fluff. independent reader. domestic satoru

You’ve always prided yourself for being strong and independent. Solving your own problems, dusting your own shelves, and you knew when everyone else lets you down, that you could always count on yourself. So when you started dating Satoru Gojo, it threw you off kilter.

To say that it was an adjustment would be an understatement. He treated you like a princess, not wanting you to lift a single finger. He would tie your shoe laces, open doors, cook for you, carry your grocery bags, and with one single grimace from your face- due to you unfortunately wearing heels to dinner- he’d carry you on one arm with your strappy heels on the other.

In the beginning you’d frequently voice out to him that it was unnecessary, that you could do all of those things yourself. But he would just shrug before saying, “I know you can, but that doesn’t mean you have to.”and when you wouldn’t budge, he’d add, “ Doing things for you, you relying on me makes me happy. And you want me to be happy,right?”

And what were you suppose to answer to that kind of blackmail? So eventually, you mellowed out. You slowly got used to relying on him and it was nice finally able to turn off you brain for once and just let him take the lead.

Going out for dinner? He’d say just wear something nice and he’ll pick you up at 7:00. Vacation? He’s got all the tourist spots all mapped out and you don’t even know what airlines your taking, only that the he has everything covered. Birthday? He’ll plan a full on surprise at the stroke of midnight with balloons, cake, a ridiculously huge bouquet of your favorite flowers, and that pair of cute earrings you’ve been eyeing for weeks now. All this simply because, “You deserve nothing but the best out of everything, princess.”

But time and time again you’d prove that old habits die hard.

Gojo watched amused as you paced around the living room of his spacious and modern apartment, trying to find a solution to your current predicament. You just got off from a call from your landlord telling you that he just doubled your rent due to market prices rising and other things you didn’t care about. All you knew is that it was too much for you to afford and your brain immediately went into problem solving mode.

“I could find a smaller apartment, but its dead in the winter. There’s barely any good apartments available this time of year.”

“Or I could move in with Shoko! Yes! She always wanted me to so it would take a load off her rent and this way I could finally help her stop smoking-”

Satoru pulled you by the hand to his lap on the sofa making you yelp in surprise. “Baby, slow down.” He snaked his arms around your waist as you made yourself comfortable on his lap. You huffed, “But Toru, Im basically homeless next month.”

He shook his head and pinched your nose making your face scrunch. “You’re not gonna be homeless, your forgetting that you have me.”

“If you’re gonna tell me that you have an extra apartment on hand, I won’t know how to answer that.”

He guffawed a laugh, the type that made your stomach flip that it was hard to not smile at him. “Baby, no- haha- no,” He pulled you closer to his chest and his thumbs made soothing motions on your side. “I’m telling you- no asking you to move in with me.”

“What?” You leaned back in surprise.

His hand gently cupped your cheek, making you lean in to his touch. “Move in with me, princess. I’ve got the space. You’re already here most of the time and I was already planning on asking you to move in with me anyways so this spans out perfectly.”

His ocean eyes held nothing but warmth and sincerity, yet you still looked at him skeptically, “Are you sure? I don’t want you too feel pressured into asking me, Toru”

“Baby, are you forgetting all the times I practically latched on to your legs to stop you from leaving?”The memory of him trying to bribe you into staying made you snort making him grin. “See? I want you around 24/7.”

“I don’t know, Toru.” You were coming around, but Satoru could still see a little doubt in your eyes. He pressed a kiss on your cheek, “I want to see your clothes besides mine,” a kiss to your other cheek, “Your ridiculous amount of skincare in the bathroom,” A kiss on your forehead, “I want the house to smell like those scented candles that you love so much,” a kiss on your nose, “I want to leave home with a kiss from you,” and finally a kiss on your lips, so soft and sweet as if trying to pour everything else he couldn’t say into the kiss. “And I wanna come home to you sound asleep on our bed if I get home late.”

Your face burned with warmth from his kisses and small confessions,”Okay..” He raised an eyebrow, “Okay, Ill move in with you.” You said with more enthusiasm.

With a satisfied smile, he pulls you into his warm chest, placing his head on top of yours, “Please rely on me more. Promise to rely on me more?”

You pull away a bit to look him in the eyes, “I promise, Toru.”

He leans his head down closer to yours, with a playful glint in his eyes,”You promise what? Use your words, princess.”

“I promise to rely on you.”

“Good girl.” He mumbles against your lips before capturing it in his, his hands move to cup your face as he deepened the kiss. His tongue danced with yours as a hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, as if trying to eliminate any space between you. Your chest pressed into his, making you moan into his mouth. He pull away with a lustful groan, a delicate strand of saliva connecting your lips before he licked it away. He dazedly nudged your nose with his, “Yeah, I’m really gonna love having you around, princess.”

I accept requests ^^

[tackykachowch]

Hey guys remember that terrible letter in s2? Well, how about I tell you that it's actually worse than it seems?

Alright. For the purpose of my point being more clear I'll recite it here. *barely held in gag*

"Silco. I've looked everywhere, but it's clear that you don't want to be found. Oh, God, I'm shit at this (THEN WHY ARE YOU EVEN WRITING IT YOU STUPID IDIOT. Sorry). I'm sorry. When she died, I lost my head. I told myself that what I did to you was for the greater good, that you deserved it. But the dirt was on both our hands. Anyway, you know where to find me. Blisters and Bedrock"

So, it is obvious that Vander regrets what he did to Silco and that he doesn't view him as a "villian of the story" anymore, so to speak. His murder attempt was purely emotional rather than motivated by ideological opposition or something else. Great.

Buuuut let's rewind to the very start of the series. Right to episode one. There. Take a look at these screenshots.

So Vander says to Benzo that there's someone on their side (the Undercity) who is worse than enforcers. Not even someONE, but someTHING. This implies quite a big level of resentment if you ask me. While he's saying that, he looks at his right hand and touches his uhh...I don't. Know how this thing's called I'm sorry. Let's call it a leather cover. There's clearly a reason why he wears it now, and this seems to be connected to the "thing" they're talking about. Alright. I guess we'll find out more about this later.

Fast forward to episode three. Heeeeey, what is THAT??

So Silco cut his hand?? Well, that all makes sense now then. Something brought Silco and Vander to a conflict, which resulted in Vander trying to kill Silco, and Silco cutting Vander's hand when he was escaping from him. For now (💀) we don't know what exactly caused such a rift between them, but it apparently was something pretty serious considering that Vander even stopped referring to Silco as a person. While he does later says to Silco that what he did to him was wrong, but nothing indicates that Vander changed his opinion on WHY he did it.

Now, there could be an argument that Silco did something that made Vander hate Silco AFTER the river scene, and this is why Vander thinks so badly of him. But earlier in the same episode we see THIS reaction from Vander when Silco appears.

So here's the question: why would Vander react like that to seeing Silco if he knew of something horrible he did post their fallout? What's more likely, he hasn't heard anything about Silco AT ALL, whether he's dead or alive or what he does. So Vander's opinion of Silco ("something worse than enforcers") formed prior to their falling out and it didn't change over time.

Now that we have all that information let's go back to our dear, favorite letter.

Uhhhh so. Vander is an incredibly awful person???? Either that, or he has an extremely severe case of amnesia. Because why would he go from wanting to reconcile with Silco and not blaming him for what happened straight into thinking that he's worse than enforcers and not even a person?? Or in his mind these things can coexist somehow?? And to add to all of that, apparently he never told Benzo the truth about their falling out, and made him think that Silco is an "animal". What, was Vander so butthurt by Silco never contacting him that he went full 5-year-old-mode "Humph!! I hate you now!!" and proceeded to lie to everyone about Silco?? So much for a reasonable and peaceful leader of the Lanes, huh.

But we all know that's not the case at all. The case is, of course, that writers forgot to rewatch season 1 and made up a reason for Vander and Silco to fight which is not at all aligns with what we knew about them and their relationship before. This is, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, one of the biggest cases of negligence in storytelling that I've ever seen.

[bonbonly]

same anon from pussy drunk max and I just thought of this and had to share. Hold my hand on this one, pussy inspection. Doesn’t matter who you write it for but just wanting to “check” you at random times through the day. Holding you spread, checking if you’re tight and punishing you for ruining your panties telling you that you can’t just walk around wet all the time or else he’ll have to confiscate your panties and pants. The idea of him spreading you out and nudging your clit, sliding his fingers in and out, maybe even checking if you still take his cock perfectly is so hot to me. Especially if he’s successfully restraining himself from fucking you, after all he can’t fuck you unless he inspects you properly. Going insane over this idea please add more

ASDFASDFASF I AM GOING FERALLL OVER THIS YOU CAN'T JUST PUT THIS IN MY INBOX AND THEN EXPECT ME NOT TO EXPLODE I-

ok deep breaths, deep breaths bon, you got this asfasdfasf

bon thoughts (18+)

you know who i see this as? collegeau!charles leclerc. this is so him, and I'm going to make sure ALL of you see why this is him. he's the sweetest boy ever in the university, and he volunteers and goes training to be an inspector because he thinks it'll look good on his resume. and he's very hell bent on being professional, but then he sees you and all he can think about is how he's hoping you end up on his list of patients so he can finally inspect you.

when he walks into the room one day, he sees you naked and spread out completely, your pussy on display for him, as if you were made for him. he's biting his lips, taking a deep breath in and trying to keep his reputation intact. good sweet boy charles couldn't possibly try to ruin you, but the demons in his mind told him otherwise. he sits on a small stool, his face inches from your cunt. you prop yourself up on elbows, asking him how long this will take because you had a class to attend to soon and he's smiling like an idiot, nodding his head and talking about how he understands your concerns. he grabs some gloves, slipping them on carefully before taking his thumb and massaging your clit slowly. his eyes are on you, watching your reactions as you gasp out loud, head thrown back before you ultimately fall back onto the head of the bed you were laying on. when he thinks you're wet enough, he slips a finger in,

"just checking to see how tight you are, ma chérie," he murmurs, licking his lips, he wants to wrap his mouth around your cunt but he's holding himself back. he'd have to wait. he's adding a second finger, astonished how your body's welcoming him and when he curls and hits a spot inside you, you're moaning out loud. he pulls his fingers out, nodding his head and taking some notes and tells you that you're good for your first check-up.

and then the days pass, and you didn't show up to a couple of his checks, which has him a bit impatient. everyone was busy with their lives, though, but you? oh, he spent days thinking about you, how could you do this to him? so when you do show up, he's upset at you but even more upset that you're pussy is glistening in the light. you're dripping onto the bed beneath you, and he has no idea why that's so, but he doesn't like it one bit. you explain to him that this boy said something to you that made you feel funny. charles isn't happy one bit, and he's rubbing your clit harder than he's supposed to, watching your pussy hole clench around nothing,

"ma chérie, you cannot be walking around like this. ruining your panties, drenching what ever you wear. what if someone else sees? is that what you want? you want people to see how wet you are?" he's scolding you, and you're getting wetter at his words, unsure as to why your tummy was feeling weird, as if there was a pressure waiting to be unleashed. charles is shaking his head, not even waiting to hear your response, "i might order you to never wear anything to cover this cunt of yours, so that everyone can see how needy your pussy is."

his restraint is out the window, and he now has his cock out. his tip is crying for you, leaking excessively and you tilt your head, trying to understand what part of the procedure this was. charles notices your confusion and reassures you, "just to see if you can take a cock, or specifically my cock."

and he sinks himself into you, watching you moan out loud as he begins to fuck you at a pace that might be a little too much for you, but he doesn't care. he's been waiting for days for this, and he has no signs of stopping now. he almost catches himself leaning forward to kiss you, he knows better than to get involved like this but he figures in the next appointments he could get closer to you. right now, all he wants is to fill your cunt up with his cum, "you can only ever do this with me, no one else. never take anyone's cock outside of this exam room unless it's mine."

and you nod your head, willing to follow along with whatever he said. he's the sweetest boy on campus, he obviously was doing this for your own good!

[princeguri66]

Leave a mark

MINORS DNI

Monster!John "Soap" Mactavish (with Poly Monster!141 at the end) x Male Reader

Cw: it starts off with Soap but the rest r mentioned and written but not as much as soap, marking with markers, nothing else I believe lmk

Silly thought but like imagine a monster reader who has crazy fast regeneration. Like deep cuts heal in seconds. Maybe you're a ghoul who just has crazy regen, or something like that.

Anyways,

Wouldn't a relationship between Soap, who loves leaving bites and see the aftermath due to his instincts as a werewolf and you who literally heals in seconds be interesting?

He loves getting fucked by you, but everytime he leaves a bit unsatisfied. It's not because you can't make him cum or anything, hell you can pull multiple orgasms from the guy and you have.

It's just that he can't leave satisfied knowing that he left a mark on you. He has bit you so much but the marks just won't stay. With the other members he can clearly see the marks he left on their neck and shoulders, even with Price who due to his dragon blood heals faster but the marks still stay for a day or two.

So everytime you two fuck, even if his ass if filled to the brim and his balls are empty he still whines because he can't leave his mark on you. You're a member of the 141, his pack, so it pains him that he can't put a claim on you like he has with the others.

So one day you get a bit creative.

One night in your room where he's riding on your cock, bouncing up and down while you lay your back on the bed, your hands gripping his hips and slamming him down on you as you cum. He leans down and bites as hard as he can on you as the feeling of you filling him up makes him cum. Pulling away and only being able to whine because he can't even admire his mark before it fades away.

"Aw, is puppy unsatisfied?" You tease and chuckle. And before he could insist that he was, you reached to the bedside table and picked up a red permanent marker, "why don't you mark me with this instead?" You say handing him the marker.

He huffs out a laugh at your little solution, but it's the best you got since you can't really make yourself regenerate slower. So he indulges, testing the marker on the back of your hand, the ink incredibly opaque so it stands out against your skin. Then he draws a bite mark at your neck then adds "Soap's Claim" in big letters, covering the whole left side of your neck.

He leans back, the bright red against your skin and the obvious letters, he finally sighs a sigh of relief.

It doesn't go unnoticed as well (just how he likes it)

The other members of the task force noticing Soap's eyes seem a bit brighter and his tail has been swaying peacefully the whole day. And that's where you enter, neck bare for everyone to see (it's the least you can do) Soap grins, happy to finally be able to show off his claim on you.

And now they want to have their names on your body too.

It's all color coordinated too now, Price who loves to write across your shoulder blades, with words like "Price's hoard" or just a simple "Price" with a heart next to it, it's simple but huge.

Gaz with a bright blue marker who likes to do it on your lower back (because he can also rest his head on your ass) writing something like "Gaz was here" and likes to draw wings on you. (Wing themed tramp stamp with 141 between the wings anyone?)

And Ghost with either white or black who loves to mark your chest, either a simple "ghost" or "Simon Riley" on each pec. Also likes to draw a ghost doodle on top of your heart.

And if you five fuck together, you aren't the only one who ends up having ink on you, but you'd have the most. And when you wake up to find a big arrow pointing to your dick and ass that says "Property of 141" written in multiple colors, you'd wish you could show it off.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 13

Jason Todd + Masks or Helmets

Hi guys, hows everyone doing lately? Im tired, but what else is new. Such is the waters of life, or whatever they say. I have no idea where I was going with this, enjoy. Kind of goes hand in hand with the Jason prompt from last year, which you can read here. This is more focused on their relationship, so it might be a little bland.

2024 kinktober masterlist.

What you and Hood shared didn’t have a name. you weren’t officially dating or anything, but you only messed around with each other, if that made sense. He got you stuff in leather, and let you fondle his body, when and when he wasn’t wearing that latex bodysuit. It got you both going, and helped keep the edge off when things got annoying. Plus, he was hot as hell, even if you had never seen his face.

Him wearing his helmet always seemed to add a bit of an edge to what you two did, especially when your hands followed the shiny surface of the black latex suit he wore, only to see it follow up under the helmet. There was a small seam just below his head, before the helmet started, but that was all. It left you almost dizzy just thinking about it, wondering what was beneath it all.

Of course, you didn’t get to see beneath it for a long time, even when Hood got wacked hard enough in the head that he could barely stand on is own two feet, and you had to drag him to Leslie’s. Leslie was used to seeing you, both of you. You liked to fight, and Hood just always ended up fighting whether he wants too or not. All the leather you wore was pretty damn recognizable too, making you a memorable sight.

At least, it would have made you memorable, if this wasn’t Gotham. Most folk were too busy trying to survive this shithole to worry about what anyone wore, only checking if it was the uniform of some rogue or gang, before going on their way. The red streaks to your outfits were enough to let people know you were one of Hoods, and that’s all they needed to know.

You knew Joker had gotten out some days before, and that he had finally been picked up by the bats again, after causing more death than that clown should be allowed too. You hadn’t even needed to check the news or anything, since Hoods pacing and ranting was enough to tell you that the clown was out again. If it were up to you, then Joke would have been dead a long time ago, would do a lot of good in your opinion.

It got to a point where you felt like Hood was gonna burst a blood vessel, so you had to resort to the good ol, rub his torso and try and calm him down. He was wearing the same latex as always, his angry breathing loud enough for his helmet to pick it up. Hood sounded like some kind of angry dragon about to breath fire all over you, or maybe that was just you making things up.

The helmet was blank, the white eyes doing nothing but staring at you with no feeling or tell of what was going through his head. You had learned some of his tells over all the time, at least what Hood allowed you to see of him. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to know when he was angry, stressed, sad, or whatever else he might feel that could hinder him as a leader.

Him leaning his head back to flash his latex covered throat was a bit new though, his shoulders slumping as he exhaled loudly, clearly debating on something inside his head. Hood had a lot of thoughts, a lot of it that he never shared with any of you and kept to himself. That was just how Hood was, he had at least gotten better at sharing when something could involve you guys, sometimes.

You almost wanted to pull your hands off his torso where they had been rubbing his stomach through the shiny material, when he reached up to grab his helmet. It felt illegal to see what was beneath it, your hands tensing up with the instinctual want to cover your eyes. Seeing Hoods face felt so wrong, like something you should never be allowed to do.

It left you a bit stumped as the helmet came off, only to reveal… another mask. Or rather, another hood. You didn’t know too much about the whole, gimp culture, at least you thought it was one of those masks. Except it had some kind of mesh material covering his eyes and mouth, still leaving his eyes a mystery to you.

You were speechless, and you were rarely speechless. Hood barely looked like himself as he shucked his jacket and shirt off, herding you backwards until you were sitting in his chair, in his office. Having someone as large as Hood kneeling between your knees was still new and uncomfortable in its own way, but also nice, good.

He clearly didn’t want this to go anywhere, as he avoided rubbing against the obvious hardness sticking to your thigh through the tight material of your leather pants. Instead, Hood just pressed his forehead against your knee and sighed loudly, rubbing his head from side to side, like he just needed something.

With slight hesitation, you finally just decided to say fuck it. There was a guy in the sewers who looked like a crocodile, a chick who controlled plants, and you were pretty sure there was a bird cult in the city. So, who where you to judge that your boss, who’d clearly shown you that he was into this whole thing, was into this whole thing.

With a soft exhale you just place one of your leather gloved hands on the back of his sleek head, moving it in slow motions back and forth. Rubbing from the back of his head, down between his shoulders, and back up again. It felt almost like scrubbing the hood of a car, not that you legally owned one. But you’d painted and waxed enough cars for the motions to be familiar.

You felt kinda bad comparing your Boss to a car getting waxed, but what he wore left him shiny like one, so you couldn’t really help it. Hood clearly wasn’t gonna get all soft and pliable like you’d seen in videos online, not in some place as dangerous as his office. The only place that was good enough for that was his safehouses, you hoped. The guy needed some time to just turn off his brain and do what he liked, but realistically no place was ever safe enough for that in Gotham.

Sitting here rubbing your crime bosses hooded head wasn’t ever on your plans for the future. But it was nice in a way, if you didn’t think too much about it. There was a familiar throb between your thighs that told you that your body definitely liked it, you just had to turn the thought in your head for a bit, maybe even do some research on whatever it was Hood was into.

Latex, full head covering, and masks wasn’t really your thing, but if Hood was into it enough, then yeah, you’d learn about it. He had always been a nice guy, in the way crime bosses could be nice, and you had this whole, strange relationship going on, which made it worth learning about.

Maybe next time, when he wasn’t this worked up, Hood could actually tell you about it. For now, though, you just sat there and comforted him, in that strange way he seemed to need. But everything in Gotham was weird, so maybe this wasn’t as strange as it felt. Not weird, maybe you should just call it new instead. It was new, and you were happy to explore it with Hood, if he allowed it.