#Not Drag not cross dressing. He’s just taking the form of a woman. Because. It’s painful

[teethbomb]

hey guys. The joke was that bill likes pain and thinks it’s hilarious. So he chose body parts that would be painful to restrict. Because passing is painful for some people. That’s why he took the form of a woman. And is technically trans by human standards. He’s an alien and I like to think humans are the ones with over complicated gender and sex constructs. Hope this helps

[bonkwrites]

Baby

Warnings: PIV, afab!reader, slight dom!Aizawa, slight sub!reader, a little bit of uniform kink, some choking, overstim, dirty talk, begging, praise, breeding, wanting a baby. 

Relationship: Shota Aizawa x wife!reader

Shota thinks you're irresistible. He knows you think lowly of yourself, that sometimes you get up in your own head about your body, your personality, your skills… people have put you down, hurt you, but never him. Shota doesn't care if he spends his whole life making you realize you're the best woman on planet earth, he'd do it all over again. 

It's your anniversary tonight. During the day, it's work. You're subbing for Mic in English, his gorgeous wife drilling vocabulary and grammar into their heads until their brains hurt. He sits with you at lunch, watches you eat the lunch he made for you while you laugh at his jokes. You play with your necklace, dragging the pendant up and down the chain, and Shota might sound like a degenerate when he says this but… seeing you in your teaching uniform really does something for him. 

He's thought about before, why he always thought you looked so good while teaching, and he wants to think it's because you're in your element, teaching the kids, doing something you love, but in reality it's because your teaching clothes involve form-fitting clothing and not your normal sweatpants and big shirt combo. He thinks that's sexy too but seeing you in a button down… in a skirt and a short heel… wearing earrings and makeup? He's been thinking about dragging you to the supply closet on the fourth floor, the one isolated from the rest of the school, and hiking your skirt up like the dirty man you've turned him into.

"Shota? Baby?" You regard him with a confused look in your eye and you giggle when he makes eye contact, "you okay?" 

"Of course," Shota replies, "just.. thinking about tonight." 

"I'm so excited to go out," you smile across at him, excited to finally get to dress up and go out, "it's gonna be so fun, we haven't been out in forever and I-" 

Shota fully admits to losing focus on what you're talking about, staring at you as you talk about your dress for tonight while a happy smile on your face. He's lost for words, truly, he's fucking speechless and all you're doing is talking about how happy you are to get to go out again. 

You've talked to him about kids before, but he's thinking tonight has to be the night. He reaches across the table and holds your free hand, thumb rubbing across the back of your hand. You smile at him sweetly and keep talking. 

–

"This place is fancy," you whisper across at him, glancing around at the tables and decor of the restaurant. Shota takes a sip of his red wine, your hand in his on the table. He smirks. 

"Only the best for you, sweetheart," he replies. You blush but roll your eyes. Shota knows you would have been happy with takeout on the couch but you shine when he treats you like this, like a princess, like you deserve. 

An impulsive thought pierces through his mind, the image of what you'll look like later, bent over on the bed, his chest pressed to your back, his hands pinning yours to the mattress. He knows you like it slow, like to feel every inch of him, and he can almost hear the sounds you'll make. 

"You're…" You start to say something but then you stop yourself, rolling your eyes again and running your hand through your hair nervously. Shota likes watching you squirm when he compliments you. 

Sometimes it's like you're a new couple again, blushing at every compliment, holding hands and smiling to yourselves. 

"What am I?" Shota fixes you with a sharp stare. You bite your lip and avoid his gaze, legs crossing under the table. 

"Fuck off," you mumble. The waiter approaches, main course in hand, and tops off your wine before he leaves. 

You eat, the squirming dying off after a while, and once dessert is done you're both heading home. Shota pays, walks out with you, and of course he opens your door for you. He gets you home, riding you up the whole drive with his hand on your thigh. Your hands grip his arm, leaned into him the whole ride. 

"Shota," you whine at some point, his fingers digging into your inner thighs, you're about ten minutes from home, "Wh-What do you think your doing?" 

"Having fun, sweetheart. Don't act like you don't like it," Shota's fingers dip in and his cock twitches in his pants when he finds out you're wearing lace, "I can feel how much you do." 

You whimper, legs spread open under the skirt of your dress. You grip onto the door and take it, face hidden away from him, as he rubs your clit through your panties. God, the way he wants to make you beg for it. 

He doesn't let you cum, not in the car, and you tighten your legs, rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the ache. Shota feels your mouth, hot and wet, wrap around the tips of his fingers and lick them clean. You know what you do to him, of course you do. 

He's been so unbelievably horny all day, from the second he woke up and saw you dressed in your substitute teacher uniform, from when you bent down and kissed him and wished him a happy anniversary, baby. He pins you to the door of your bedroom, he can't stop, he needs you, his mind swims with every sound you make. 

"God, oh god," you gasp, hands in his hair, neck leaned to the side to give him more room in marking you. His hands grip you tightly, pull you against him. 

"Please," your lips move against his when you talk, "please put a baby in me, please," 

"Can I put a baby in you? Tonight?" He thinks he feels your knees go a little weak when he speaks. You nod and kiss him, heart beating so hard he can feel it in your hands where they touch him. Your touch burns his skin, sets it all on fire through his suit jacket and button down.

Shota turns you around from the door, his hands searching for your zipper on the back of your dress and then your dress is on the floor. Shota's eyes are still closed, he's kissing you after all, but when his hands make contact with the lace he pulls away and opens them to look at you. 

It's all black and red lace, not an inch of support, made just to be taken off. It's like is painted onto you with how it hugs your skin. You sit down on the bed and wiggle off the panties as he pulls his suit jacket off. You watch him undo the buttons of his shirt, eyes following his hands down… until his shirt is open and he's taking off his belt. Your hands skim over your nipples through the lace of the bra. Shota's in a trance, watching you, he can't take his eyes off you, can't believe he got such a perfect fucking wife.

He nearly reached for the bedside drawer in his haze, looking for a condom, before he remembers what he's doing. Naked, he crawls between your open legs, and you gasp when you feel his cock slide between your folds. Your hands reach for his, he takes them and pins them above your head. 

"S-Shota-" you whimper, "please fuck me." 

"Let me take care of you, yeah?" Shota whispers in your ear. You nod, breath shaking. "Good girl." 

"You want it?" He takes himself in his hand and pushes in just the tip, you nod and spread your legs farther, moaning at the feeling. 

"P-Please-!" You cry out, "I-I need it, I need you," 

Shota watched the way your face crumbles with pleasure when he sinks himself into you slowly, inch-by-fucking-inch. He groans when he finally bottoms out, your hips twitching. You wrap your legs around his waist, hold him there, as you lift your hips and fuck yourself on his cock. 

"That's it, baby," Shota moans, "use it." 

"Fuck," you curse, back arched, hands fighting to break free. You're just as pent up as he is, you’ve been just as horny as him all day, you had to be. Shota releases your hands and grips your hips, he helps you along, until you’re reaching for his shoulders and pulling him down over you. 

“Sh-Shota- oh god,” you sob, back arching, a hand snaked between you to touch yourself, “please don’t stop,” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” his voice is deep, growling, and he can feel you cumming around him. You slap your hands to his back, dig your nails in, and Shota groans as pain mixes with pleasure. 

“Good girl, give it to me,” he whispers, one hand moving to tweak your nipple through rough lace. You gasp, cry out his name, and arch your back impossibly higher. Shota slows his hips down, he doesn’t want to cum so soon, so quickly, and the way your thighs shake when he gives it to you slow like this makes him go crazy. 

“M-move me?” you ask, voice high and weak. Shota rakes his eyes up and down every inch of skin he can see, he holds your hips still for you, and considers moving you to your stomach. 

“P-” you take a deep breath, bat your eyelashes up at him, “please?” 

“Fuck,” he groans, hands tightening on your hips before he pulls out and moves you onto your chest. You get up on your knees and arch your back, presented to him like a goddamn present. He puts his hands on your ass, kneading the skin there, and you gasp at his touch. 

“Fuck, baby, you look so fucking good right now,” Shota groans when you arch your back farther in response. 

“Fuck me.” you whimper. Who is he to deny his wife when she asks him so nicely? Shota guides himself in, slow, and watches the way your body relaxes and just takes him in. 

“It’s like you’re made for me,” Shota says as he leans over you to gather your hair up in his hand. He tugs, gentle, and your neck bends back to leave you gasping and gripping at the sheets. 

“I-I was,” you moan, clenching around him, “I w-was made for- for you,” 

“Damn right you were,” he growls, taking your hip in his free hand and finally starting to fuck you. He snaps his hips, thrusts hard and slow, and relishes in the way it makes you sound. You were fucking made to take it, you had to be. 

“Take it,” he demands, as if you could do anything else, and you sob his name, “fucking take it,” 

“Y-Yes, sir,” you whimper. Shota feels like his whole body is on fire, chasing his orgasm, losing his fucking mind. He raises a hand to spank you just to hear the way you cry out. When he lets your hair go you collapse onto the bed and fuck yourself back on him. 

“Fuck, fuck, shit, baby,” Shota groans out every curse word he can think of as he buries himself deep inside you and cums. You gasp, legs spread wider, back arched lower, gasping for air. Shota lets you come down, he can feel your heartbeat through your back where it’s pressed to his chest, before he reaches beneath you and takes your throat in his hand and grinds his hips. 

“Cum again,” the hand not wrapped around your throat touches your clit and you shake, “cum one more time around my cock, sweetheart,” 

“Shota!” you sob, oversensitive. Shota’s just as sensitive as you are but he’s putting a baby in you tonight and he’s going to make sure it sticks. 

“I-I can’t,” you sob, “p-please, I can’t,” 

But your breaths are already coming out faster, you’re already pulsing around him. Held under him like this, pinned like this, you’ve got nowhere to go and no way to fight back. He could make you cum five, six, seven more times before he lets you go. His cock, spent and sensitive, twitches at the image his brain brings up for him. 

“One more, baby, that’s it,” he encourages, lips by your ear, “good girl, gimme one more,” 

You scream, absolutely scream his name, and he feels the way your whole body gives into your orgasm. Shota stays there but he pulls his fingers away from your clit. You pant, thighs still shaking, and when he pulls out you don’t move. He reaches for a towel in the laundry basket and helps you turn over. He presses kisses to your cheeks, your lips, until you’re giggling and pulling him down to cuddle with you. 

“Love you,” you whisper against his chest. Shota holds you tighter. 

“Love you, too, baby.” he replies. He rubs slow circles on your shoulder and wishes silently for a baby.

[bitchesuntitled]

Paint with Me

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: You have a crush on the dad of your daughter’s best friend.

Warnings: Sexual innuendos and cursing

A/N: @beefrobeefcal issued a prompt and I jumped at the chance. She also helped beta this along with @strang3lov3. As always, I gotta tag @jay-zzle, who once again was kind enough to make a moodboard for this little story of mine, is my main cheerleader and listens to me rant all the time about stories I’ve read and my own 🥰

Masterlist||AO3 Link||Parents to Lovers

“Hello and welcome to those who are new to the class! Go ahead and find a spare seat” The woman at the front, Miss Janice said, “This is a very basic painting class and please parents. Let your kids get messy! Art isn’t clean!”

All the kids cheered and you sighed thinking about the stains you will now have to be washing out from Nora’s clothes. Your ex had decided the white sundress was the perfect outfit for her today. Dropping her off here with no time to go home you just had to cross your fingers hoping that Miss Janice had a spare smock for her.

“Mommy!” Nora said, grabbing your hand and tugging you along to a table, “I see Missy!”

Nora dragged you along to the table where Missy and her father sat. This had become a weekly thing, coming to the paint with me class and sitting with Missy and Frankie.

“Hi Nora!” Missy squealed, “Daddy was starting to worry you guys weren’t coming.”

“Missy,” Frankie hissed, looking at her while you could see his cheeks starting to gain a warmer shade.

“No, Mommy was mad at my dad because of my dress.”

“Nora!” You said, looking at her wide eyed.

“Your dress is very pretty, Nora.” Frankie said, letting out a low chuckle.

“Thank you! Mommy always wants to look pretty for these classes so I wanted to try too!”

You could feel your face getting warm. It wasn’t like you intentionally did it or anything but you couldn’t deny having formed a crush on Frankie within the past few weeks of attending this class. If you wanted to spruce up your looks a little, so what? You just didn’t think your kid would take notice of it. Oh god, has it been obvious? Has Frankie noticed?

“Nora, do you need a smock?” Miss Janice asked, interrupting your thoughts.

“No, I—“

“Yes, she does!” You say, giving Miss Janice a pleading look. Miss Janice smiled and handed one to you to help Nora put it on.

“No one will be able to see my dress!” Nora said, furrowing her brows and crossing her arms across her chest.

“Aw, come on now,” Frankie said, “You don’t want to ruin your pretty dress!”

“Fine,” Nora said, rolling her eyes.

You smiled at him and mouthed a thank you while putting the smock on her. He winked at you with a slight nod of his head. Miss Janice began to show everyone how to paint a rose. Frankie had his brows furrowed, focusing on his paper instead of watching the board like everyone else.

“Daddy!” Missy scolded, “You’re supposed to be painting a rose!”

“Don’t feel like painting a rose.” Frankie stated lowering his voice, “Flowers are boring.”

“Then what are you painting instead?” Nora asked curiously, leaning over to look at his paper.

“It’s a surprise!” Frankie said, hovering his hands over his paper to keep anyone from trying to peek. “Can you hand me that yellowy color?” He asked, nodding his head towards the tube in front of you. Careful of your rose painting you reached for the tube and handed it over.

“Ever heard of goldenrod?” Frankie asked, reading the tube and looking at Missy.

“Been years since I had one of those,” You think out loud. Frankie whipped his head to look at you. “Oh my god!” You say slapping your hand over your mouth.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Frankie eyes you suspiciously while continuing to talk to Missy and Nora. You and your big fucking mouth. Sure, it’s been a while since you got laid but you are in a painting class with your kid, her friend, and her friend’s incredibly attractive dad. Kids being the main focal point. Thankfully they were too into their paintings to hear what you said. You zero in on your own painting of a rose. Gliding the paint brush over and over until you feel like the petal is to your liking.

—

“Alright everyone, time is up for the day!” Miss Janice announces, “We need to start cleaning up. Parents please grab the paint brushes and water cups, kiddos grab the paintings and clip them to the board so we can all see them!”

Nora starts cackling along with Missy looking at Frankie’s painting. Frankie furrows his brows while you both begin gathering up the paint brushes plopping them into the water cup.

“What the heck is that?!” Nora asked, holding her stomach from laughing so hard. You decide to take a look at what was so funny. You’re not sure what it’s supposed to be. It just looks like a yellow peanut with what you think might be wings and some McDonald’s Golden Arches in the background.

“It’s a bird,” Frankie says, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh,” You say, nodding your head subtly, “That’s what it’s supposed to be?”

“It looks like a peanut!” Missy said

“It does!” Nora shouted, beginning to laugh even more.

“Yeah, yeah. Go hang the paintings up you goofs” Frankie said, shooing them away.

“Least you tried,” You smile, with a small shrug.

“I guess. Missy’s right though, it does look like a peanut,” He grinned, walking with you over to the now free sink to help clean brushes.

“Hey, you said it— not me,” You laughed.

You dumped the water into the sink, while Frankie grabbed the soap, squirting some in his and your hands. Making small conversation about Nora and Missy, your weeks ahead of you, what you plan to do for the rest of your weekend.

“So,” Frankie started, leaning over to whisper in your ear, “Haven’t had a golden rod in a long time?”

“Oh my god,” You groaned, “Listen, I’m so sorry about that. I swear, I didn't even mean to say it out loud.”

“Nah, it’s all good. I could probably help with–” Frankie said, then began to panic, “I mean, like, if you wanted to go do something sometime, or not that’s cool too, not like I’m saying we should have sex or something cause that’s not cool. I’m sorry it was just a stup–”

“Frankie,” You giggle, grabbing his hand to make him stop. He looked up at you bashfully.

“It’s been a while since I’ve tried asking someone out,” He admitted. “My friends keep giving me shit because I keep talking about you and they said I should try asking you out, but I’ve been too nervous to and wow, I just won’t shut the fuck up. What is wrong with me?!”

“I’d love to,” You say before he can start speaking again.

“Really?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, “Go out? With me? Like a date?”

“Duh,” You said, squeezing his hand and winking, “Is there a golden rod included?”

“Haven’t had any complaints before,” Frankie said with a shrug, blushing.

[sweet-creature101]

New York Streets & Dreams

Harry Styles, a classic New York law firm grump meets a wild spirited girl, Y/N when he argues with her on a road intersection.

Grump!harry; a grump x sunshine trope.

warnings: mention of alcohol, swearing. Suggestive language.

The songs playing in your headphones pumped your head with a string of melodies. You hum with a smile on your face, riding your bicycle in the warm sun taking in the city around you. Your paint splattered hands, still a bit wet grip the bicycle handle as you steer it around the city.

You steer around the busy and bustling roads, whisked away in a world of your own. You paid no heed to the rushing cars, staying near the footpath. Many had often told you not to cycle, especially during rush hour since the streets would be jam packed. “Walking, driving or going in a cab isn’t the same as cycling y’know?” You’d always say when the question was risen as to why you cycle.

You were about to turn right when a series of honks stops you right in your path. You yank down your headphones harshly and look around, an annoyed look beginning to form on your face.

“You!”

You whip your head to meet that voice. You see a man, dressed in a blue blazer over a white shirt with trousers step down from his Mercedes, his face morphed into a furious expression.

“What?” You ask harshly, your bicycle still parked right in front of his car.

“Look around woman! I would’ve run you over.” He shouts at you over the loud traffic.

“I was on my side of the lane. You’re the one who decided last minute to take the turn!” You yell back with equal anger as you meet his steel gaze, your own unflinching.

“You had your headphones on! If you would’ve looked around, we wouldn’t be here!” He said, even more annoyed than before now.

“What do you want? You know what, I offer you my sincerest fucking apology! Leave me alone!” You said, your coloured hands flailing in the air.

“An apology? Thats not good enough. You need to be aware of your surroundings.” He countered, his arms crossing over his chest.

“And you need to chill out. It’s just a traffic jam!” You exclaimed, your voice a pitch higher.

“You don’t understand! I almost ran you over!” You were certain that the man in front was giving out literal smoke now.

“Yeah, well I’m still here so calm down.” You said sarcastically. Your hands come down and rest at either side of your hip.

“You’re unbelievable. I can’t do this.” He said, huffing out a breath of disbelief.

“Fine. Suit yourself.” You said shrugging as you sat on your bicycle. And began to cycle.

“Watch where you’re going!” The man yelled for the last time.

Harry checked his watch again and again, contemplating if going out with his friends was a good decision considering how his utter shit his day had been. He had reached his office late because of a mishap that involved him arguing with a pretty girl in between a traffic jam which earned him an earful from his colleagues.

He looked around the neon street, the coloured lights metling into the dark night sky above him. He wondered, when he was the last time he went out with friends. When was the last time he went just as Harry, not as a top shot lawyer? When was the last time he didn’t think about work?

He couldn’t remember.

“Harry! I’m so happy you made it!” Lindsey, smiled and encased him in a hug.

Lindsay had been begging Harry to join her and her friends since the last two months. Harry as always, had politely refused saying that his workload was far too much. However, Lindsey wasn’t short of surprise when Harry called her late this afternoon and said he wanted to join her.

“I’m only here so that I don’t have to deal with you for the next two months.” Harry said rolling his eyes playfully. Lindsey smacked his arm and dragged him in the club.

It was large semi circle couch nestled in the back corner with a mammoth sized round wood table fitted in it like a puzzle piece.

Lindsey dragged Harry all the way to the back of the club where he spotted a few familiar faces. All of them waved to Harry and Harry said to hi them.

“Where’s Y/N?” Lindsey asked as she slid onto the seat.

“In the washroom.” A friend, Niall said before downing a shot in one go earning an impressed looking from Harry in return.

“You’ll love Y/N.” Lindsey said, winking at Harry who was still standing. He only gave her a slight smile.

Harry was about to go to the washroom before a voice boomed, seeming quite familiar.

“You! Oh my God you’re stalking me!” You yelled at him, your face showing how furious you are. Everyone at the table stopped eating and drinking because all their focus was fixated on you.

“What the fuck!” Harry said, his eyes widening at the accusation you hurled at him.

“You try to kill me first and now that I’m alive even after your murder attempt, you decide to do the deed here.” You said, referring to his attempt at ‘mudering’.

“Are you stupid?” Harry asked you in utter disbelief.

“No but I have a gun!” You said, not realising that you hadn’t even brought your purse with you tonight.

“Yeah, well where is it then?” Harry asked you, crossing his arms as he eyed you up and down like a predator assessing his prey.

“It’s none of your business!” You yell at him, realising that he caught you lying red handed. You size him up, your arms crossing over your chest.

“So I guess you two have met already. Harry this is Y/N, Y/N this is Harry.” Lindsey murmured from her side of the table, the overhanging lamp illuminating only a small part of her face.

“For the record, you and I know both know I didn’t try to kill you.” Harry said, his eyebrows raised as a wary look danced in his eyes.

“Fine.” You said.

“Great now that’s over, let’s get this party started!” Niall yelled, with excitement as the whole table broke out in a couple of hoots.

As the night proceeded, you downed drink after drink and danced like there would be no tomorrow. The lights flashing around you merged into your skin. The music blaring around you was pumping life into you.

In the corner of your eye, you see Harry who was leaning against the wall, a drink that he had been drinking for the past half hour still in his hand as he looked around with a bored look etched on his face. You walk toward him, your steps much more confident now because of a few drinks you had.

If your circumstance wasn’t so compelling you might have thought Harry to be quite an attractive man. You could make out the sculpted muscles of his biceps and abdomen through his shirt.

Harry watched you intently, drinking in your frame with every movement of yours. He didn’t fail to notice how wondrous your body looked in that little white dress you paired with a metal chain waist belt which had blue stones engraved on it, resting on the swell of your hips.

“You look as if you’re at a funeral.” You snickered, coming to stand close to him. Your forearms touch and you feel your focus narrow to the sparks of fire you felt coming from there.

Harry let his lips show a sliver of smile, a chuckle coming out of him.

“Ah well I’m not really in the mood to dance or party tonight.” Harry said shrugging slightly.

“What! You’re at a club, with such amazing people. Come on, if you’re not gonna dance on your own then dance with me.” You said smiling at him as your turn your face to look at him, admiring how the dancing lights accentuated his eyes and upraised cheekbones and his plush lips.

“You’re drunk, arent ya?” Harry asked you.

“It takes me more than three sleazy drinks to get drunk.” You said patting his arm.

“Well, I can’t really dance.” Harry said, evidently stalling like a five year old.

“It’s about having fun Harry.”

Those words somehow snapped a leash on Harry which he didn’t know existed. You extended your hand towards him that he gladly took.

Harry never knew he could have that much fun. He danced all night with you, drinking to his hearts content and screaming every song that played, even the ones he swore he’d never listen, ‘stupid pop music’ he called those same songs.

His hands were on your waist now and you broke out in a string of giggles, the alcohol in your system heightening every feeling. Harry looked at you and marvelled at your face, how pretty it looked and smiled at you softly drawing you closer to him.

“If you hadn’t tried mudering me this morning, I would’ve called you handsome y’know.” You said flicking his nose.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to murder you.” Harry said smiling.

“God, you’re so handsome Harry.”

Harry woke up with a groan as he clutched his head. He looked around and found himself in a room he couldn’t recognise. There were sun catchers hanging from the large window which was installed, as large as a wall casting sparkles all over the room. There were plush colourful stuff toys strewn all over the orange couch opposite to the bed he found himself in. He looked over and saw you sleeping.

The sight of you alone nearly knocked out his breath.

You slowly you open your eyes and once the realisation hits, you scramble out of the bed, looking at yourself and then Harry. You were in an oversized tee shirt of yours while Harry was in a pair of boxers.

“Did we?” You ask him, standing barefoot at your wooden floor.

“No, we were too out of it.” Harry said looking at you.

“Oh thank God.” You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “Wait, it’s not like I don’t want to do it with you, seriously don’t take it that way-”

“Hmmm.” Harry hummed, clearly amused with your state of chaos.

“I dont want to do it with you if we’re like.. drunk and all. I’d rather be stone cold sober.” You said.

“I’ll keep that in mind Y/N.” Harry said chuckling.

“Oh my God I’ll just shut up.” You said, covering your face with your hand.

Harry looked at the time and got up, stretching. You avoided the urge to look at his sculpted arms, chest and stomach but you managed to sneak in a few glances.

“I’ve got a case to prepare for. I’ll text you in a few.” Harry said as he buttoned his white shirt.

“You don’t have my number.” You said.

“But Lindsey does.” Harry said shrugging.

He wore his trousers and grabbed his stuff. Before leaving he ran a hand over your hair playfully. He then snaked an arm around your waist and tugged you towards him. You bit down a gasp at the sudden movement and closeness that was now there.

“I’d kiss you if i wasn’t so late for work.” Harry said.

“Are you making excuses Harry?” You said, peering up at him as you rested your hands on his chest.

“I’m waiting for the right moment Love.” He said.

He dipped his head and kissed the corner of your lips. He slowly moved his lips over yours. You could feel them hovering over yours. You could imagine and feel how kissing him would be like, sparks running down your bones and veins.

“I’ll see you.” Harry said, kissing your cheek before leaving for work.

You felt yourself melt into a puddle of emotions and glitter as you sank to the floor with a youthful smile on your face.

Harry, in all his corporate glory was late to pick you up tonight. Meaning, he had no time to change his clothes which is why he stood at your door, in his black trousers and ruffled white shirt, a single rose he plucked from his office garden dangling from his hand.

Harry most positively hated everyone. He hated large crowds. He hated too much colour. He’d rather live life in black and white but you brought about a change. A change dripping with colours and laughter and undiluted joy.

He rang your doorbell which was splattered with coloured fingerprints, probably yours.

“Hi.” You said, emerging out of the apartment which was installed above your art studio where you took classes and painted by yourself.

“You look beautiful.” Harry said, as you dressed up in a short white satin skirt which you paired with a yellow top. Your cowboy boots clicked with every step.

“You look like… you came straight from work.” You said chuckling.

“That’s because I did.” Harry said as he handed you over the single rose, already whitering.

“Cute.” You said.

———————

Harry looked around the restraunt, sitting opposite to you. It hadn’t occurred to him how silent and how much of a grump he had been all evening. You observed him silently, waiting for a sliver of conversation to appear between you two.

“Get up.” You said, breaking Harry out of his daze.

“What?”

“Did I stutter? Here’s my half of the bill, give yours and let’s get the hell out of here.” You said callinh a waiter, giving her half as you waited for Harry. He handed her his half as well and stood up and followed her out.

———————

Harry had no clue you bring him here out of all the places he could think of. You handed over Harry his rollerskates, a devious smile on your face.

“No.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked around the skating rink, purple lights flashing all over his face.

“Come on, don’t be a sour sport.” You said lacing your shoes.

“We could have had a nice dinner-”

“Not with you ignoring me all night Harry.” You shot back before he could finish his sentence. “I don’t know what was bothering you but now we’re here. You’ll only have fun if you let go.” You added gently.

“Fine.” Harry said as he laced his shoes and stepped into a rink.

Harry holds your hand as you guide him, picking up pace gradually. You smile at him as you leave his hand and circle around him, twirling like a small child. You let out a laugh as Harry yanks to his side, almost making you two fall down on the ground.

“Harry!” You squeal as his hand reaches your waist and pulls you towards him.

“What?” He asks, feigning innocence, gliding with you effortlessly. You jab his side causing him to let go. You poke your tongue at him and skate away backwards, your eyes at him.

Harry tries to skate as fast as you but ends up almost tripping. “Come here Y/N!” He says, from one end his face full of joy.

You slowly glide towards him and interlace your hands with his. You pull him towards yourself this time and rest your arms on his neck, a smile on his lips at your movement.

“You look very beautiful tonight Love.” Harry said, an idle coming to rest at the curve of your back.

“You happened to mention it earlier.” You said blushing.

Harry looked at you and realised how much you meant to him. He realised that he in fact didn’t how to have fun or let loose before he met you. Hell, he’s even rollerblading with you. Harry felt free. Harry felt himself. Harry felt at home.

And perhaps that’s why he kissed you.

His hand reached out, cupping your cheek while the other reached the nape of your neck. His touch sent shivers down your spine. And there it was, without a word he kissed.

Harry kissed you and the world slowed down.

In that moment, all colours merged into one. Your focus narrowed down to the entirety of the kiss and how it felt to move your tongue against his, savouring him slowly and sinfully.

Harry pulled away and looked into yours. His being a pool of utter joy and happiness. He picked you up slightly, sounds of laughter of coming out of the two of you.

“It’s the Rollerblading, I tell ya.” Harry said smiling.

You were sitting in your art studio all by yourself when the bell rang. You found it peculiar since you had no classes scheduled today. You wiped your hands off a towel and opened the door to see Harry, dressed in normal clothes for the first time in months.

You and Harry had been meeting on and off for a quite a while now. Kissing him, cuddling him, simply staying with him brought you happiness and same was for harry. You saw him open up to new things like dancing in the rain, going to McDonalds at midnight, screaming songs and appreciate life.

“How can I help you today?” You ask him, your arms coming to rest at either shoulder as he pulled you in and kissed you hard and slow.

He pulled away and shifted on his feet.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him as you sat back on your seat and began finishing your painting.

Harry fished out a piece of paper and started reading, a smile of amusement on your face.

“Y/N, you’re the reason I feel no shame in singing at the top of my lungs or at skinny dipping late night. You make me live. And I know I’m not what you want and I know I’m an arrogant son of a bitch but the minute I saw you at the intersection, I knew was I fucked. So-” Harry stopped mid way, crumbled the letter and looked at you, his gaze unflinching as he asked, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes.” You said as you ran over to him, your painted hands grabbing his face as you kissed him with all your might.

Authors note: thank you so much for reading! Interact with me! Let me know if you liked it in the comments, send me asks, send me messages, talk to me! I love you I love you I love you.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

👑The girl in the silver dress👑New version (Prt 3) (prt 1 here) (Prt 2 here)

Aemond x reader

Tags: Fluffish, royalty, modernroyalty, theselection

Cool devider credits: firefly graphics

🔷Summary: You are invited to become a selected girl for Prince Jacaerys's selection. You never thought you would fall for his uncle, prince Aemond instead.

🔷Author's note: Based on the books by Kiera Cass, but reading them is not required.

🔷Wordcount :3464

🔷Warnings: Non apply

TAGLIST: @connorsui @lportes-22 @thisaccountisrandomsstuff @nikkitc0703 @lijeno

Months have passed since the ball. Yet you still can feel your heart be ripped in two. Aemond has not bothered to come back for you, believing he is somehow doing you a favor by staying away. You wonder if he is doing alright. You should be furious, angry, perhaps take revenge and sleep with other men but….

Part of you knows Aemond too well to even do that. He genuinely believed he did the right thing. The good thing, by leaving and setting you free, so you could become the Queen. But what is a crown over true love? How can you rule over countless people if it is not the man of your dreams by your side, making the horrible choices so worth it, just because you’ll make that choice together? What is the future if you can’t spend it by his side? What is a golden cage if you can live with him in freedom? And why would you care about being Queen, when you could just be the woman he loves? 

Tonight, you all will be interviewed by the press, a common occurrence so the people of Westeros will know you a bit better, perhaps you’ll become someone’s favorite. 

Your make-up team works on your eyeliner, black with silver small tiny glitters. They put gloss on your lips and put your hair up, so the silver necklace around your neck speaks volumes. Baela is already done with her dress, and has taken time to chat with you about Aemond. She has become a close friend of yours in the past months, together with Dyana. You form an alliance with both, against Floris and even Queen Alicent. ‘’He loved me, he said so in his letter.’’ You tell Baela when she asks if Aemond wasn’t playing a fucked up little game. ‘’I’ve seen the man behind the mask when I am near him, Baela. It can’t have been a act.’’

Floris approaches in her black swan feather dress, glancing down at you with great enjoyment of your misery. ‘’Well, Queen Alicent has already said Aemond won’t be coming back from Dorne anytime soon. So, have fun being depressed and disappointed.’’ Alicent likely told Floris that in confidence but Floris takes any chance to make you feel miserable.

Dyana wears a gorgeous red gown and approaches Floris rapidly. She puts her hands on her hips and you and Baela know Dyana has had it with Floris. ‘’Just like your father was when you came in-'’ You see Baela gasp when Dyana opens her mouth, and the last 15 remaining girls listen with their breaths hold in. But you speak up, forcing her to remain calm, grabbing her hand and dragging her back before she can claw out Dyana’s eye.

‘’Don’t stoop to her level, Dy. She is not worth our anger or energy. She craves attention, so she seeks it.’’ Dy nods, before moving back to her chair. Floris scoffs at you three before she and her minions let the tv crew know they are ready.

After watching the other girls excel with their questions, the same questions time after time, you think you are prepared for whatever they may throw at you. You sit down in the comfortable chair, your legs crossed.

The first question is about your first meeting with the prince. The interviewer smiles, but her eyes tell books. ‘’Everyone knows you are a common-born girl. Do you think the reason you are still here is because of favoritism?’’ You first gawk at her, attacked and offended. Until you see the chance to clap back. And you will.

You speak from your heart but you can’t ignore the sting as if you betray Aemond. ‘’Frankly, I believe Prince Jacaerys is quite taken with me, and his opinion matters more than what a small crowd chooses to say about me.’’ 

Her eyebrows rise and this time she is the one who lost her tongue, clearly fumbling over cards to find a good other hostile question. ‘’Do you think you would make a good queen? How would someone as commonborn as you even lead the country?’’

A fair jab, but you are done playing fair. You will come at her with everything you got. ‘’I think us commoners know more about the country than the nobility ever will. We are the ants, carrying the crown. I hope to make life better for all civilians of the Seven Kingdoms, not just the commoners or the nobility. I hope to be a ruler. Not a decoration on a shelf.’’

The woman is seething with rage at your composed sweet answers. ‘’That was my final question.’’ You blink innocently and surprised.

‘’Was it? You seem to have forgotten to ask me the questions you asked all the other girls. Perhaps you need a break.’’ You suggest, sweetly. A few chuckles erupt among the selected.

The interviewer is removed by Lady Aemma before getting a firm talking to off screen. You stand up from the chair and sigh deeply. That went as horrible as could be. The only thing that would have made it worse would be questions about Aemond. You saw her cards, they were on there. Yet she kept from asking. Odd. And someone is working on getting you removed, someone very high up. 

The next major event is the Halloween masquerade. Only 10 girls remain, including you. Jacaerys has been nothing but kind to you, treating you as a true lady whenever you are around him. Floris and four other girls are now under Alicent’s wing. You used to be jealous that she had selected clear favorites. Yet none of that matters. Jacaerys has only eyes for you.

Prince Jacaerys dances with you, under the great chandelier. All those months practicing with the waltzes and dances have finally paid off as you smoothly follow his movements as if you are two body pieces belonging to one soul.

But alas, despite him having you made his favorite, you remain a pawn in a game. And a game has rules, no matter how unfair. Jacaerys ends the dance with a respectful bow before moving to Lady Baela, a sweet kind girl you’ve come to know very well.

You take a glass of champagne, before sitting down on a chair, lost in thought. You’ve been here for months. You miss Aemond, of course you do.

At some point you lost track of Baela and Jace. They must be getting more champagne. A servant loyal to Jacaerys whispers in your ear that you must come to the library. The prince has a surprise for you.

You enter the library not much later. A masked figure stands with his back to you, a black hood covering his hair. ‘’Jace?’’ You ask, before approaching him. Jace does not answer you, instead he grabs you by your hips and drags your body closer until you both collide. Your chin is grabbed and he kisses you fiercely before exhaling deeply, sniffing the perfume on your skin. 

This is improper. You must stop this. Jacaerys and you are not married, this is the selection. This is not fair to the others.

You gasp, as you remove the mask and look into blue eyes, not brown ones. Aemond silently brings his fingers to your lips before slowly bringing his face back to yours. The worst part is, you let him. You welcome him. Your lips find his soft pink lips, gently moving against his lips until the movements become rough as if he is trying to hurt you. ‘’Y/n,’’ he murmurs against your lips, leaving kisses on your skin. ‘’I’m sorry. I honor the traditions, normally. But I can’t stay away from you.’’ He mutters. You kiss his lips again. 

But you look into his eyes. ‘’We’ll make our own traditions.’’ You promise him, hot tears running down your cheeks of pure joy. He kisses you again, much slower and softer as if he wants to savor every moment of this. Aemond murmurs against your lips and you become lost in the passion and the love you feel for one another. You tug at his tie but he shakes his head, before leaning in and whispering in your ear. ‘’I don’t want you to become a secret, or a scandal. I will ask my nephew, and my father for permission.’’ He searches in his pocket for a small rock shaped box and opens the lid, before sinking to one knee and grabbing your hand. Lady Aemma enters the room, holding a smartphone so she can film this wonderful moment as tears sting your eyes.

He is proposing. He is asking you to become his wife. ‘’Lady Y/n, queen of my heart, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, my equal, and may I bring you under my protection?’’ A small ring with gold and a clear sapphire smiles at you, and you see dreams and hopes in Aemond’s eyes.

You smile.  You wait for him to stand, and nearly slam the ring out of his hands before you kiss him again. ‘’Yes, yes, a dozens times yes.’’

Aemond grins, picking you up from the ground, spinning you around when kissing you. Lady Aemma makes herself known again, gently clearing her throat, but her eyes are misty with tears. ‘’I’m afraid there is a matter of permission. A royal marriage can only exist with the blessing of the king.’

The king has been feeling ill lately. He has taken to bed and refuses to leave for anyone. Queen Alicent rules in his stead, as a faithful wife would. You and Aemond rush past ladies, princes, nobles and paparazzi, hand in hand, clearly smitten as your feet go as fast as you can go. Paparazzi quickly turn their camera’s to you both, but all they get is a messy blurry picture, that is how fast you both are walking. Finally, you reach the rooms of the king.

Queen Alicent sits by his bedside, faithfully reading him the newspaper. She turns around when she sees you both, and you drop into a curtsy. ‘’What are you both doing here?’’ She asks.

Aemond clears his throat, before sitting down on his father’s bed. ‘’Father, I’m sorry. I know you told me I should always follow duty, and that the crown requires sacrifice.’’ He did? King Viserys avoids your eyes and you understand he was behind Aemond’s sudden departure. You cross your arms over your chest.

‘’I did.’’ The king confesses, a bit grumpy.

Aemond gestures for you to come closer, so you do. He takes hold of your hands. ‘’But my path to duty led me to Y/N. She makes me feel things I never felt before. She is the love of my life, Father. I know you both sent me away to Dorne to forget her, but I know by now: No one will ever compare or come close to her. She is all I ever wanted, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. If I have to give up my titles, so be it.’’ He declares, firmly. 

Viserys coughs, before smiling at you both. ‘’Aemond, come here my boy. I know I've been a horrible father to you and my other children.’’ You look away, not sure you were meant to hear this.

‘’Yes.’’ Aemond says, agreeing without missing a beat.

Viserys looks at you. ‘’But I'm going to ask you this once, my boy. Do you love that girl?’’ Your heart beats faster and faster and you are afraid it might stop. 

Aemond looks at you when speaking, nodding. ‘’I feel alive when she is with me. Like everything is possible and she makes me whole in ways I used to be broken.’’ Viserys nods.

‘’Then who am I to deny you both? Go, be happy, my boy. You always have been meant for it.’’ Aemond nods, pretending to not tear up, but even you have teary eyes watching this reunion.

This is nice, but there is one other obstacle. Jacaerys. You belonged to his selection. To go with another man is treason. ‘’Jace, of course, I will ask-’’ Aemond is interrupted as the doors open and Jace himself enters with Lady Aemma close behind.

Jacaerys holds up his hands, silencing Aemond. ‘’You don’t have to, Aemond.’’ He turns to the king before speaking. ’I've seen it for myself, Grandsire. Y/n and Aemond are two parts of one soul. We must not keep them separated. They belong to one another.’’

Alicent looks concerned. ‘’But what will the media say?’’ She is right. They have not been kind to you.

Viserys grins. ‘’They can say whatever they like. Y/n will become Aemond's wife,  a princess of house Targaryen. They will learn to mind their tongues over time.’’ You hope so, at least. 

Aemond turns to his mother. ‘’Do I have both your blessings? May we marry?’’ He asks, hopeful. 

Alicent looks you over, and you wonder how much she secretly hates you. She smiles, before touching her son’s forehead, kissing it.  ‘’Your happiness is all that I ever wanted for you, Aemond. Go find it with your wife.’’ And just like that, a nightmare ends and a dream is born. Aemond kisses your lips, not giving a damn about the audience that is present. 

The first moment with the press is there, the engagement photoshoot. Of course you are afraid, but Aemond makes it all worth it. He is still a bit stiff when it comes to press and attention but you bring out his true wonderful self. You and Prince Aemond hold hands in front of the castle, as multiple press magazines, news channels and photographers from all over the world take in this wonderful moment.

‘’Prince Aemond! "Please look here!"

‘’Duchess Y/n! Is it true you and Prince Aemond bonded over your love for Dornish architecture?"

‘’Yes. We are big nerds."

‘’O, that was improper of me wasn't it?’’ You mutter as the press eagerly writes things down.

Aemond shrugs before whispering in your ear. ‘’You're doing just fine. We kinda are big nerds.’’

You return the smile, taking hold of his face before kissing him. ‘’The biggest.’’ You declare before kissing him. The flashes go crazy the moment your lips lock, and all photographers shut up, taking millions of pictures.

Aemond breaks the kiss, grinning at the press when you blush lost in the moment. ‘’Prince Aemond, what was your first thought when you saw her lady?"

Aemond thinks back and you see many emotions cross his face. ‘’Why don't good things ever happen to me? And it's ironic because…she would become the best thing In my life.’’

One photographer clearly adores that and makes a little strangled ‘’awh’’ sound, causing their colleague to smack them lightly on the arm. ‘’What? They are adorable!’’ He declares, simply before returning to making photos.

You glance at Aemond. ‘’I am simply speaking my truth.’’ He says as if he’s defending himself. 

You grin. ‘’Hmhm.’’

An interviewer of the Targaryen times finally asks a question, having worked up the courage. ‘’Princess-I mean, Duchess…’’ She stumbles and blushes, embarrassed as she looks through her notes nervously.

Aemond smiles, reassuringly. ‘’Princess is fine, Ma’am. She must adjust to her new title somehow.’’ Finally she lets go of her cards, and becomes much more confident because of it.

‘’Princess Y/N. What are the plans for the wedding?’’ Aemond grins, turning his head to you as if he wants to hear it as well.

You smile, painting a picture. ‘’A grand one, in the sept, honoring ancient Targaryen traditions. But also a couple of new ones.’’ You for example would love for Vhagar, Aemond’s cat to wear the rings down the aisle or for your wedding dress to be silver. And so, that happened. 25 october, you and Aemond said your vows for dozens of people to see. And after that, came the honeymoon.

You finally stand before the statue of Nymeria, the statue you dreamed of seeing since you were old enough to want anything. Aemond is with you, together with your security, hidden and dressed as ordinary tourists. You look at Nymeria’s statue, at a loss for words, that's how beautiful you find it all. 

‘’I can't believe you took me here.’’ You tell Aemond, searching for his hand to hold as tears of happiness roll down your cheeks. 

He gently wipes them away. ‘’I can. You always wanted to see it. And now we can.’’ He tells you, with a smile and a kiss on your lips. ‘’This does mean that you need a new dream, I’m afraid.’’ He jests but you turn his face back to your own.

‘’I don’t need a new dream. You are my new dream.’’

Next year, you all come together for christmas. You and Aemond have brought gifts. The family sits still in gowns and suits, as royals are expected, but their smiles are the same of any other happy family. 

Finally it is your turn to give something to Viserys, the king.

‘’Grandsire, we have a surprise.’’ Aemond looks around the room, and everyone watches as Viserys unwraps his present with the help of Alicent, and reveals two red with silver baby socks.

Rhaenyra gasps, delighted before hiding her giggle. Jacaerys and Baela grab each other’s hand and Helaena grins. Even Aegon seems to understand what this means. His hair has slightly grown back, but he keeps it shorter than usual, he quite liked it.

Yet the king seems at loss for words. ‘’These are a little too small for my feet.’’ Viserys says, taking in the baby socks.

Aemond grins, putting his arms around you. You beam, waiting patiently for Viserys to get the hint.

Alicent jumps up from her chair, gasping. ‘’Oh my gods, she is pregnant!’’ You break into a bright grin as Aemond softly rubs your belly.

Instantly the king smiles, standing up to hug you both. ‘’Oh! My stupid arse thought you bought the wrong size!’’ He is still very fragile, but manages to walk a few inches.

‘’Father.’’ Rhaenyra says with a chuckle.

Daemon, her newest husband, smirks, before coming over as well. Usually he is too cool for things like this, but this time, it's different. ‘’Ah to hell it with, get here you two.’’ He hugs you both. You look at the beautifully decorated christmas tree, and realize that next christmas might look even more beautiful.

The next Christmas is just like that, beautiful. Baela is now pregnant with her own child, the future heir to the seven Kingdoms. Dyana has been married too, to a friendly sweet woman she met in a coffee shop. She remains one of your closest friends, after the selection and Dyana and Crystina are invited to court, to become your ladies. 

Your son is now born, Prince Daen Targaryen. Aemond and you picked the name together. 

‘’He takes after his father, always with his nose stuck in a book.’’ Prince Viserys comments as you and the young prince look through a picture book he got from his aunt, Aunt Rhaenyra. 

Rhaenyra seems pleased that your son likes her gift and you smile at her. ‘’He likes colorful pictures.’’ 

Rhaenyra nods. ‘’Viserys and Aegon are the same.’’

Aemond talks with his dad, you see them bond more and more, becoming closer. ‘’Do you remember?’’ He asks.  

Viserys almost looks offended. ‘’Of course I do. Your favorite things was to read, to eat cookies and to see the horses.’’ 

Aemond grins, looking at you and your son. ‘’I thought you had forgotten.’’ He confess.

Viserys nearly chokes on his champagne. ‘’Never.’’

You lift Daen from the ground, picking him up and bringing him to Aemond who happily accepts and holds his son. ‘’Look, it’s daddy.’’ You tell your son with a smile. ‘’Say hello to daddy.’’

He grins, hugging your son tightly when rocking him to sleep. ‘’Our little prince.’’ He tells you with a wink. 

You nod. ‘’Our little prince.’’ You have learned a lot in the time of the selection. But the one thing is that your life can change, if you just look past people’s appearances, and past their walls. The most gorgeous crown can be hidden behind a ugly box and the most wonderful story has the dustiest cover. You can’t judge people for the walls they keep around, as everyone has their own stories. But most of all, you learned to fight for things you believe in, and to fight for things you love. 

A/N.

Thank you so much for reading with me. When i started it idk how many people would even like it and the support was insane. Thank you all so much. I hope you all liked the story as much as I did telling it, in hotd/selection fashion.

[laughingsapphic-creates]

Inukag Week, day 2: Moonlight

Barely squeezed it out but by God I posted before midnight

Day 1 is, apparently, going to take me all week. Because it gave me motivation (coughanexcusecough) to try and make an animatic I've wanted to do for a long time. I've already had to temper my expectations to just the last minute or so of the song to get it done at all, so we'll see how that goes!

In the meantime, have an incredibly self-indulgent drag au

Still Into You cover by Natewantstobattle and Amalee

@inukag-week

~~~~~~

Why Don't You Do Right?

Kagome giggled to herself as she finished her makeup, taking a moment to admire herself. Her hair was pinned up and back, covered by a brown felted fedora decorated with fluffy cat ears to hide the mass of it. Her cream button down shirt and crisp green waistcoat were perfectly fitted, falling nicely over her flattened chest. The matching green slacks were tailored to her exact centimeter, with cream spats fitted over brown oxfords she'd spent a week breaking in for this night.

“You excited?” She asked, glancing over to her partner with makeup-sharpened eyes.

“... Yeah,” he admitted, sounding just a little shy as he examined himself in the neighboring vanity. Satisfied with her own work, she watched him brush his fringe around until it lay just so in front of the felt dog ears pinned into his hair. His normally thick, dark brows had been glued down and painted over, leaving them thin and arched. His jaw had been softened by an expertly applied contour pallet, and dramatic eyeliner and mascara lent extra intensity to his golden eyes as he met her gaze. He smirked at her. “You planin’ on sittin’ there staring at me all night?”

“Hang on,” she insisted, leaning back and crossing her arms as she looked him over with a grin. “You know I love taking the time to appreciate what a beautiful woman you are.”

Inuyasha couldn't hide how his face flushed brightly at her words, with his usual long curtain of frost-white hair pulled back out of the way and curled into a beautifully coiffed ponytail. The pieces framing his face were similarly curled, giving him the aura of a magical princess, or perhaps a bride.

Standing from her seat, Kagome took an easy step forward, hands finding the arms of his chair as she leaned down to give him a kiss. She felt callused fingers on her cheek, and smiled into his mouth.

“Gonna ruin my lipstick,” he muttered between kisses, though he made no move to pull away. Emboldened by his enthusiasm and the character she played, Kagome nipped at his lower lip, drawing a gasp from her lover.

“It's never stopped you, why should it stop me?” She teased, recalling how much he'd enjoyed messing up her lipstick when she was already late for work earlier that week. “Besides, the crowd’ll love seeing how much I adore my ‘wife’.”

Inuyasha blushed so pretty, she thought, reaching over to pick up the tube of lipstick so she could touch it up for him. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, and she smiled as his false eyelashes brushed his cheeks. He already had quite long eyelashes, which had come in handy when they were just dressing up casually, but stage performance required stage makeup, according to the woman who'd been working with them on their routine. 

“What do you think the odds are that Kikyo and Koga’ll see us tonight?” He asked, flashing her a grin of his own as the tube left his lips.

“Infinitesimal. But it'd be funny; three years going on dates in crossdress to avoid them, and they finally ping us when we're on stage of all places?” she laughed, leaning back so she could see him properly.

For as much of a fuss as he made when she had first suggested it, there was a certain softness dressing up like this brought out in him that Kagome adored. Sure, he could be soft with her, when the two of them were alone. But under the make-up and pretty clothes, she found a different form of vulnerability he didn't portray when he wore the clothes of a man. And she hadn't been kidding - Inuyasha made for a beautiful woman.

The first time she had suggested dressing in drag, it was out of desperation for just one date to not get ruined by her stalker ex-coworker or his stalker ex-girlfriend. After a few tries, they didn't spot them anymore, but they figured they'd keep it up a bit longer “just to be safe”. Going to a drag show was just meant to be a fun date, relevant to how they'd been doing things; she hadn't expected to be so quickly welcomed into the community, or to get picked up by a professional drag queen who'd encouraged them to give the stage a shot. 

“Kat? Shii?” A voice called, drawing their eyes away from one another to one of the assistants working backstage. “You have some visitors.”

“Hey you two!” Miroku called, followed by Sango to the little corner they'd taken up for their costume changes. The backstage area was bustling with queens and kings, she was surprised that they'd been allowed, nevermind that they'd gotten a guide.

“What're you guys doing here?”

“Figured we'd come show a little moral support, that's all!” Sango assured, pulling a bouquet of flowers from behind her back with a smile. “Just wanted to sneak in quick before you got on stage.”

“Oh my goodness, thank you!” Kagome beamed, standing to accept the flowers.

“Think you're ready? Big crowd out there,” nudging Inuyasha's shoulder, Miroku gave him a teasing grin. He was having an awfully good time for someone who'd gotten his shit rocked after groping Inuyasha in full drag without knowing it. Inuyasha - Shibuya - had slapped him so hard he'd briefly started speaking Korean. 

Inuyasha rose to his feet, the stiletto heels he'd become expertly accustomed to putting him half a head taller than Miroku.

“Good. We've got a big show to put on,” he hummed, smiling when Kagome wrapped an arm around his slim waist, emphasized by the padding at his hips and backside. She knew she looked very much a manlet at his side, and there was a part of her that reveled in it - like Inuyasha became somewhat softer, Kagome became somewhat bolder when she was dressed for date night. She loved her skirts and dresses in day-to-day, but there was a wonderful feeling of power in fitted suits and nice men's shoes. She smiled up at him, and he returned the look, his hair turned into a glowing halo by an overhead light.

“Alright. We should get back out to the audience if we want to get drinks before you two go on,” Miroku smiled, taking Sango's hand in his. “Break a leg!”

“You're gonna do great!” Sango agreed, waving with her free hand. “And Kagome!”

She looked at her friend.

“You've got lipstick in your mustache,” she warned, giggling as she and Miroku disappeared back out front. Squeaking in surprise, Kagome turned to the mirror, ignoring Inuyasha's laughter as she snatched up a make-up wipe to carefully removed the red smudges without disturbing the thin mustache and whiskers she'd drawn on with eyeliner.

“Don't tell me you two are getting fans already? You haven't even gone on stage yet!”

Inuyasha turned back, grinning at Jakotsu.

“If friends count as fans, then sure,” he hummed as the older drag queen came into their little corner. He accepted Jakotsu’s hug graciously, surprisingly touchy when he was all dolled up.

“Well don't you look pretty as a peony! How's the dress, sweetheart? Good fit?”

“Great fit! Thanks for lending it to me.”

“You go ahead and keep it. It's totally your color, and it looks better on you than it ever looked on me,” she insisted, patting his cheek. Inuyasha looked like he wanted to argue, but Jakotsu was clearly having none of it. The red dress was flashier than anything he'd ever worn while crossdressing, with a high kimono-style collar and a short, ruffled skirt that showed off the strong shape of his already long legs. Kagome made a mental note to give Jakotsu an extra thank-you later - she would make sure Inuyasha got plenty of mileage out of that dress.

Kagome finally stood from fixing her face, turning to smile at Jakotsu and accept his hug with much more enthusiasm.

“Kagome darling, you look so good! I like the facial hair! Very macho,” he assured, gently brushing a thumb over the eyeliner-goatee.

“Thank you! I wasn't sure about it at first, but it felt right, y'know?” 

“It was a good choice, Tom cat!” he nodded, hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “Now, the crowd’s already wound up a bit, so you get to walk into good energy! Don't get nervous on me!”

“Oh, we've been in way more nerve-wracking situations. A little crowd work’ll be a walk in the park,” Inuyasha waved off the warning, confident as ever. Squealing in excitement, Jakotsu jumped around a little, stopping only when another assistant tapped his shoulder, reminding him that the current performer was almost done. “Okay! Okay okay okay! You guys ready?”

“Ready as we'll ever be.”

“One sec,” Kagome gasped, turning to the bouquet that she'd set on the table. Finding a red carnation, Kagome broke it at the second node, lifting the bloom and tucking it into Inuyasha's hair tie so it sat at the base of his ponytail. Taking another moment to stand in awe of him, she smiled brightly and took his hand in hers. “Okay. Ready.”

“Ooooh, I could just eat you two up!” Jakotsu squealed, moving behind them to push them forward. “Alright, your music’s queued up, Iono’s almost finished. Just wait for me to introduce you, and you can come do your thing!”

“You can count on us!” Kagome assured, her arm sliding back around Inuyasha's waist as Jakotsu left them to take to the stage.

“Everybody give it up one more time for Iono Montoya!”

The crowd renewed its roars, and a woman in a curly wig and bedazzled fencing foil passed them, squeezing their shoulders and flashing a smile.

“Remember, folks! The quickest way to a man's heart? Is between the fourth and fifth rib!" Jakotsu laughed brightly along with the crowd, flapping the loose collar of her robe as if to give herself some air. “Now then! Our next performers are my own discovery; new to the Camelia Club stage! Better to look and not touch, my dears, because these puppy-lovers are equal parts bark and bite! Get ready for canine claws and feline fangs, and please welcome to the stage, Shibuya Inuyamato, and Tom-Katsuki Nekomata!”

With deep breaths, Inuyasha and Kagome faded, and Shibuya and Katsuki stepped out into the spotlights to the roar of the crowd. Shibuya spotted Miroku and Sango at one of the tables off to the side, and squeezed Katsuki’s hand while the other waved to the crowd. Katsuki waved as well, but he couldn't help how his eyes kept being drawn to his partner. Shibuya's face had fully lit up at the warm reception from the crowd, her expression open and excited. Jakotsu winked as she passed them, pressing the microphone into Katsuki's hand. With a confident smirk and a nod of thanks, he took hold of it, turning to the audience.

"What an incredible greeting!" he began, getting a few extra cheers. He had gotten quite good at deepening his voice with Jakotsu’s vocal training, and hearing it back from the speakers, even he was a little impressed with himself. "I don't think I've felt this welcome anywhere but the arms of my beautiful wife! What do you think, Shii?"

Shibuya reached up to wrap her hand around Katsuki's on the mic, long red nails tracing the length of his fingers.

"I think you just like making me blush in front of strangers, Kat,” she shot back, sweet falsetto sending a shock of warmth down his spine.

"Guilty as charged. Can't help myself sweetheart, not my fault you look so damn good in red, wouldn't you agree folks?"

The crowd went wild again, and Katsuki saw Shibuya's face go even darker at the applause. 

"Careful, Kat! You keep laying it on that thick, we're all gonna choke on it."

"Give you something else to choke on later, pup.”

That got the crowd whooping, and Katsuki could distinctly make out Sango's familiar shriek of laughter. He gave her a wink, and Shibuya leaned down to laugh into his hair. Wrapping his arm firmly around Shibuya's waist, he let her take the mic and gestured to the audience.

"We're here to sing for these fine people! Try to hold off on the choking."

"Well! In that case we'd better get this rig rollin'," she hummed, twirling out of his arms to slide it into the mic stand. Their hands remained clasped, tethering them together, and when Shibuya turned to smirk at him, the guitar kicked in.

“Can't count the years on one hand that we've been together."

“I need the other one to hold you, make you feel, make you feel better.”

Katsuki found himself smiling even as he moved his mouth to the words.

The routine they had created for the song was an intricate one, allowing Kagome's attention to detail to guide Inuyasha's stronger, more physically adept body.

“It's not a walk in the park, to love each other.”

“But when our fingers interlock, can't deny, can't deny, you're worth it.”

"Cause after all this time," she sang, arms sliding around Katsuki's neck, "I'm still into you~”

Katsuki scooped her up into his arms.

"I should be over all the Butterflies!" they spun, confetti butterflies raining from the celling. "But I'm into you." "I'm into you!”

"And baby even on our worst nights! I'm into you!" 

"I'm into you!”

"Let 'em wonder how we got this far! Cause I don't really need to wonder at all! Yeah after all this time, I'm still, into you."

The pair moved together with an automatic ease. It had been there since before their relationship had turned romantic; dancing around each other almost from the moment they'd met. Where one went, the other followed. When one moved to strike, the other covered their blind spot. And this dance had been intentional, perfected by months of dedicated practice. Inuyasha and Kayome's natural synchronicity was only emphasized by Shibuya and Katsuki's flamboyant motions and unabashed need to be close to one another. They only separated briefly during the second verse and chorus to collect tips from excited viewers, but it was clear to everyone present how eager they were to return to each other's arms.

"Some things just, some things just make sense and one of those is you and I.”

Shibuya leaned back a little, so Katsuki had to look past her enhanced chest to meet her sultry gaze.

"Some things just, some things just make sense, and even after all this time. I'm into you~"

"Baby not a day goes by that I'm not not into you!"

Katsuki lifted one of Shibuya's legs to hitch it on his hip, supporting her weight with one hand on her back as he dipped her back, turning to display her for the audience.

"I should be over all the butterflies~!!"

"I'm into you!" "I'm into you!"

They leaned into each other in turn, spinning together to gain momentum. Kat turned his back to the crowd lifting his partner while she braced her hands on his shoulders.

"And baby even on our worst nights!”

"I'm into you!" "I'm into you!”

"Let 'em wonder how we got this far!" Her arms slid around his shoulders

"Cause I don't really need to wonder at all!" his hands found purchase on her hips.

"Yeah after all this time, I'm still into you,”

"I'm still into you," Kat turned, pulling Shibuya into another dip.

"I'm still, into-" Shii leaned up, ignoring the last lyric to pull Katsuki into a fierce kiss. Going willingly, the performers found themselves only vaguely aware that they were not alone. The applause died down as a figure passed them, but the pair only separated with an embarrassed gasp when someone tapped the mic.

"Wonderful show, you two!" Jakotsu cheered, turning to give them a cheeky smile. "And a wonderful opportunity to remind our audience; make certain to spay and neuter your pets."

Blushing brightly, the pair righted themselves, taking a final bow to the encouraging whoops whistles of the audience before absconding to the backstage area to pick up where they left off.

[elpida]

Eris always took a morning stroll around the gardens, more so now that she was pregnant. God knows how they'd got here, from their beginning of stubbornness and glares of locked hues, yet now she could tell you every fine detail of Derek's face from memory alone. She had grown to love him, she had not said as such but she'd shown it.. the softness that slowly crept in, the gentle touches of her hand, the way she'd find him in a crowded room and chose to be at his side rather than away from it. How with some wine in her system and confidence brewing, she'd closed their chamber doors one evening and kissed him like she never had before. She'd said nothing that night, simply crossed the room in a hot step to meet his lips, but she meant it. When she laid with him, she meant it. She'd slept peacefully in his arms that night, bodies strangled by silk sheets.

"M'lady." spoke one of the ladies in waiting as they approached. Eris liked the fresh air, and she wasn't very far along in this pregnancy. Enough that in her dress you could just make out the small forming curve. Not something she could hide, nor did she really want to. She was proud to be with Derek, a man that took no second wife, that had never embarrassed her and in the most selfish way... being protected? Having someone really look after her? It was something Eris might not be familiar with, but she enjoyed it. "Might I speak freely with you?" Eris raised her brows at the woman before her. She'd seen her before, though there was a little drama surrounding this lady at the moment. Still in waiting for marriage but heavily pregnant. It was scandal at it's finest. Nobody would harm her when she was with child but after, who knew what they'd make of her. "Of course." was all Eris said when she was taken by the end and guided to a quieter part of the garden, hidden behind a rosebush. "M'Lady.. I fear to say the truth on the matter of the Father." Eris watched her hand lower to her bump. "You would be safer, for saying. Far safer a choice to speak for you and your child than remain silent" it made all logical sense to Eris. "The Father he's... well it's your husband M'Lady. He's been with me frequently since the marriage, he swore me to secrecy, told me that you were a cruel woman that'd take revenge, that you'd not allow me to come between our love.." The wind was knocked from Eris and she was sure she felt her heart drag down. "He said he loves me." naive, was Eris' first though. This girl was naive and she was naive, for believing that her prayers had been answered. Her mind raced, was this true? wouldn't it? Either way she felt her blood, boiling with anger. "Leave." the woman looked disappoointed at Eris' command. "I said leave."

The girl didn't hover, she left. She'd done what she needed to do, plant doubt and loathing at Eris, made sure there was someone nearby to overhear and spread the rumour. Eris was going to be faced with the shame of those rumours, a pregnant wife, betrayed and yet this kingdom would expect her to do nothing on the matter. Her nostrils flared and she felt the heat of tears in her hues, welling and threatening. Embarrassment and rage filled her and that turned into her pacing, trying to breath deep and slow and not go completely off the rails. He wanted to embarrass her? They all wanted to see her humiliated? Fine. Then they'd never see Eris again. Hell to this kingdom, she thought. Reckless and headstrong she ran with that idea, didn't give anything sensible a second thought because right now she just couldn't be here. She had to leave, right now, to be able to feel like she could breath at all. Eris ran. She left the palace, no guard could tell her not to leave, she simply turned on her heels, and walked out and once she was out of the grounds, she ran. The guards on that gate would be punished, imagine letting a pregnant wife of lineage, walk out alone, when a clear storm was brewing in the sky.

She left, almost first thing in the morning, and with each passing hour the storm that broke became worse, but she did not return. She had not yet returned, and the night hours would prove ever more dangerous for her. She took no cloak for warmth, no money, just the silk dress that'd be drenched in this weather and it was. She was sodden, her hair clinging to her pale skin, stained with dirt. She'd fallen once or twice, the forest floor was like a swamp, dredged with mud and it was stodgy on the bottom of her dress. Thunder would crack, lightning streaking across the sky but that stubbornness wouldn't turn around, no matter how could, no matter how tired and heavens... she was so tired of walking. Tired and cold, scared... but she'd never admit how scared she was in these woods, alone. If there was one justice, it was that nobody would see her tears in the rain. "Hello?" she called out, wondering if anyone might be nearby but they were not, she was lost. @dalphahale

[bigbrainkatrina]

So the Trauma - a Kim Possible fanfic

So the Drama AU. ��Eric is a girl.  Kim is gay.  Drakken & Shego's scheme stings a little harder.

“The person you go to Prom with…it makes — a statement.”

=KP=

Shego is right on top of her — poker chips scatter everywhere at their crash landing, and the green woman over-does her plasma punch. Her hand splinters through the wood and gets stuck in the billiards table. The girls lock eyes and Kim feels a thrill unlike any other.

It's hard to explain what it is about this specific moment that is so formative. Perhaps we should take a step back.

Kim and Ron infiltrate The Bermuda Triangle, an infamous nightclub owned by the formidable Big Daddy Brotherson. It's such a high profile spot that Kim actually has to go undercover for this job. No crop top and cargo pants for this one — no, she dresses to the nines. Ron tries to dress up to the nines too but — erm — he places a little too much faith in his dad's Prom outfit.

But she feels good. Kim never shows off her figure. It's a silky navy blue dress that hugs her curves, reminding her that her body has developed a lot in the past few years. Changes that she never gets to acknowledge in the old familiar places. Her bare arms rest at her sides, taut with muscles. She feels cold inside the bar but it's okay. Because for once she actually looks like a girl and gets to be an adult. The heels help, giving her that little physical boost of imagined maturity.

When the inevitable does pounce on her, she can't help but notice that Shego is dressed to the nines as well. Same Harlequin pattern with the criss-cross of black and emerald, but not even close to the skin-tight ensemble from their ol' runarounds. In fact, Kim would even go so far as to say that Shego's dressed — does loosely work in a sitch like this?

Long sleeves, crop top, and a skirt with an elastic waistband. The fabric flutters with each flip and kick. It's never been like this before — which is weird. Surely Kim and Shego have had more climactic battles before — is it really just the change in wardrobe? Is that something vain to observe?

When Kim's ankles wrap around Shego's exposed stomach to kick her across the room, there's a moment where their bodies are so tightly compressed to each other — Kim can feel Shego's beating chest, her hot breath, her skin — in all the times the girls have fought each other, Kim's pretty sure she's never felt that woman's skin like this and wow, it's something else.

But Kim's not — it's not like she feels anything for Shego...that would mean that she likes girls and Kim doesn't like girls. She likes Ron — or like — she's supposed to. No, she likes Ron! Definitely.

Does she?

Yes.

No?

Things have been weird between them lately. What with the Moodulators and the Mystery Girl from Yamanouchi and the friend date that bails Ron out from sitting at the kid's table…

"Where's Drakken and what's he up to?"

Kim's hands are bunching up the fabric of Shego's top, dragging the woman up to her face.

Shego's thin brow pops up and for a second, Kim thinks the green lady is about to snark about Drakken's wacked out schemes or something, but instead the woman says, "What? Are you trying to pull my top off or something, Princess?"

It's quiet everywhere — it's almost like Shego's cold voice cuts out all other sound. Kim's ears start ringing and her cheeks go red. Is this real? Are Kim's feelings that transparent? And if Shego does notice them, does that mean that she might — Kim might actually be g—

Shego's heel cuts out from under them and nails Kim clean in the chin. Her entire body jerks back, a purple bruise already planted along her jawline.

It doesn't matter. The ceiling blows out, Drakken and Shego get away ("You think you're all that Kim Possible but you're not even close!" Drakken snarls and for once, that insult actually stings.), and Kim still has no idea what the Bad Doctor is planning.

This is so annoying.

=KP=

Her name is Erica. New girl, Ron's showing her the ropes.

"Well isn't that interesting? Actually that's my chair. Not that my name's on it but…"

Erica's tall. Brunette, wavy hair, it curls back up towards her cute little head just as it skims the shoulders. Tanned skin, bright eyes, cute smile, really cute smile actually... and she just steals Ron's chair right out from under him. A little presumptuous because truth be told, Ron clearly has dibs on that chair.

Ron whines in the background and Erica doesn't even acknowledge him. No, she's leering at Kim. Kim wants to snap at this random girl — how dare she treat her best friend like that? But as that smile glistens at her — no, for her — she feels it, this pattering in her chest. Her heart beats faster than she can process and while she wants to kindly ask this girl to give Ron his chair back — she can't.

Kim's voice becomes as thin as tissue paper, crinkling when she makes some joke about Monique-speak. Kim feels small. Here she is: the girl who has saved the world more times than would fit on a resume and she can't even stomach saying something — anything — about herself.

So Erica makes a bold move and asks about Kim. Very forward. This girl wants her.

This is happening way too fast — she can't handle a relationship right now — who is she kidding? This is a girl. Girls don't date other girls — right?

Or — wow, Kim, way to be ignorant, girls can date girls it's just — she doesn't date other girls. She likes boys.

"Ha ha! Ha! Yeah! Kim is such a kidder. Did I mention that we've known each other since Pre-K? Good times! GOOD TIMES!"

Soda spills everywhere — Ron's jellin'. It's painfully obvious and there's just so many threads to connect right now.

Erica is a girl and likes Kim. Probably. Kim already likes Erica. Ron obviously likes Kim otherwise he wouldn't be acting like a total weirdo. Kim likes Ron — a lot — something has been blooming between them all year.

Kim is suddenly having a really hard time breathing. All eyes are on her — Erica, Ron, and Monique — even people from other tables — what is she supposed to say?

Kim remembers how it felt to tussle with a woman — how different a girl's skin feels on hers — how the fingers settle across an arm — how the lips come in at each other — what?

She's never touched a girl. Been touched by a girl. Never wanted any of that. Before Erica.

The new girl is staring.

Gulp.

This is a really important moment. It's in the air. What she says next changes her world.

"It feels like a loop has just been formed and I'm not in it."

Ron says it, not her. But he's right. Stars cross each other and come in at each other fast, their linings tangled and now cosmos are winding about each other in a vortex while the knot intensifies its hold on them. Kim can't look away from this girl.

Finally, she manages to speak past the dry throat. "Me and Ron are getting Bueno Nacho after school today. Do you want to tag along? We can hang out and stuff, you seem really cool."

=KP=

Kim doesn't have an ego. Or rather…

Kim can't have an ego. She's sixteen years old and expected to save the world week in and week out. With all the press coverage, she's in too vulnerable of a position to let it go to her head. That's why Ron always has her back.

Ron loves attention, probably more than Kim does, but they make an agreement the first time a camera strays away from him; let it be. Ron has to stay grounded. For her, or else she'll just fly away.

That's how they can still go to Bueno Nacho just like your basic average girl and her best friend might. But today? Ron is pouting — he sits across Kim in the booth as always, assuming that this new girl, Erica, will sit besides him but she decidedly doesn't; she sits next to Kim.

Kim blushes the second the girl slides besides her, but Erica doesn't even bat an eye at it. They end up sharing food — Kim tries to learn more about Erica but the confident young lass is tight-lipped. Erica moves around the country a lot and lost her mother when she was very young. It's just Erica and her dad now. A dad that she doesn't see much because he's always staying late at the office.

Erica explains this quickly and succinctly and then barrages Kim with questions about herself. Kim hates talking about herself but try as she might, she can't steer the conversation away from that.

How long have you been saving the world? Three years.

How did that all start? A mistake. A billionaire meant to call Team Impossible but made a typo. Fortunately, my cheer moves helped me rescue him from his own laser trap.

What do you like to do for fun? Um. Shopping I guess. I don't know, does saving the world with Ron count as fun? I feel like it does.

Kim keeps looking to Ron for help — something, anything, but the boy sits there moping — and she really needs him right now. After a while, she gives up. Ron can mope if he wants.

What's there to be afraid of? This Erica girl is really nice.

Cute too. But things don't have to go down that way. They can just be friends. Kim really wants to be her friend.

So she asks her out to a movie that same night; she forgets to ask Ron and though Ron notices, he doesn't bother on intruding. He can tell which way the wind is blowing.

=KP=

Kim doesn't notice how much time she has spent with Erica until she gets a 9-1-1 from Wade; Drakken scooped her Dad right out of his own office and now no one knows where he is. It's stressful and of course Erica is there to comfort her and all that, but Ron isn't there.

Ron is — somewhere.

And it's weird because that's not normal. Kim and Ron are always together when Wade calls about a mission because Kim and Ron are always together. Inseparable.

Last time Kim sees Ron, he snatches the loudspeaker from the Tweebs and shouts "COOTIE ALERT!"

It's a little childish — she knows it's a prelude to a longer conversation but at the moment she doesn't really have the patience for it. She and Erica are just friends — yeah, they're sitting across Ron feeding each other slices of pizza — but that doesn't mean they are anything more than that…

Ron's just prone to drama...I guess?

But things go back to normal fast. It's not long before some former associate is flying Kim and Ron to Drakken's new Arctic lair. She spend the majority of the flight listening to Ron chatter away about how Bueno Nacho has really gone down the crapper. No more Naco night, kiddie toys, and Ned's clip-on tie has been clipped off.

Oy vey.

But still, it's nice for Ron to talk to her like she's a normal human. Because there's nothing between her and Erica that would justify such a frosty cold shoulder.

=KP=

When Kim and Ron do locate James Timothy Possible, he's totally zonked out. So a Brain Tap machine is likely involved. But what would Drakken want from her dad? Maybe an apology for their college strifes? Maybe. At this point it feels like Drakken is just messing with her. Because Kim seriously doesn't get it.

"Why do you care so much?" Erica asks her one night. It's late. Definitely past curfew and if the cops caught them on the swingset together at the park — they could technically get arrested for loitering? She's not sure. Either way she texts her parents to let them know she's safe.

Kim looks up at Erica. At some point, they started holding hands. "Well — Drakken hurts people and if I can figure out what he's up to — well — you know."

"No, I don't," Erica says. It's rare for her to be so serious. She's always flirting with her bold and brash can do attitude. She pushes a hair behind her ear and shuffles her swing closer to Kim's. "There's people who do this for a living. Like — paid and stuff. You're just a teenage girl with an iron will and a lotta heart. The best you can do is show up and stop him. Honestly, you should be given more to work with."

The seat of Erica's swing touches Kim's. She can feel the pressure of the girl's body through the rubber. Kim doesn't say anything as Erica's thumb runs across her knuckle. She avoids eye contact for a little bit out of shyness. "It's important to me though. I like doing the best I can and I feel like I'm not at my best right now. Ron and I haven't really been in sync lately."

"Can I ask you something?"

Kim takes in a deep breath. "He's just a little jealous of me and you — I don't blame him, he's kinda ticking me off with his drama but I haven't been the most cordial either — "

"I don't want to talk about Ron; I want to talk about us."

Us. Now that's a scary word.

Kim and Erica are so close, the tanned girl's neck craning past the chains.

Erica smiles just the slightest. "We've been dating for a month now, yeah?"

"D-dating?" Kim freezes. "Have we been — dating? Really?"

"What? Yeah, I thought that's what we've been doing. You don't — you're not — "

"Um." Kim can't think of anything else. They nestle closer. "I don't know. I like you a lot — I — well — I wanted to date I just wasn't sure if you — "

"Kim, I'm already out."

"Out? Oh...oh."

"It's okay, I know you're not. You treat me differently when we're at school and I know you're facing a different pressure but — I've dated a lot of girls who weren't out yet and it's really hard on my end. Lots of emotional labor, and I don't know if I can do it again."

Kim looks up and eyes those beautiful chocolate brown eyes. She can't meet them and looks back down. "It's hard, yeah. I mean — what if my site bombs because I'm gay?"

"Are you gay?"

"I don't know. Probably," Kim touches Erica's shoulder. "But I can't let that stop me from saving the world. People might want me to go away if I came out and — I can't lose that. Can I think about it?"

"Always Kim. I don't want to pressure you."

"You kind of are though."

The chains clink as the swings fall back into their normal spots.

=KP=

"Shego!"

Drakken screams, feet moving with such a swing that they unbutton his lab-coat. He freezes when he finds Shego in his chair, looking over the logistics of his evil, evil scheme. "Shego! Why is my Synthodrone — my carefully constructed weapon to once and for all destroy Kim Possible — " His voice drops low as she rises to face him. " — a girl?"

Shego arches an eyebrow and leans back. "Ha. Well — I was looking at your plans. A toy design, top secret cybertronic technology, Synthodrone personality and performance upgrades, and teen scene junk. I still honestly don't get it but the Synthodrone stuff? Yeah. You should have ditched the Oh Boyz roundtable and gone with this."

"Hm?" Drakken frowns as the image of Teen Scene Junk on the monitor is replaced by Patricia Highwood's The Price of Salt. "Lesbian pulp fiction? What does that have to do with anything?"

Shego flashes her canines. "Kim Possible is not smarter than you."

Drakken blinks. Takes him a second to get it. "Ooooooooh."

"Mhm. If you can't figure it out, she can't figure it out…and that means…"

"We — we actually might win?" Drakken coughs right away. "Nyrhm — I mean — I was already quite confident but — " His fist rubs against the front of his coat. " — Eric was supposed to be a boy. The ultimate hottie — something to make Kimberly Ann go gaga — "

Shego's finger presses to his lips and he stops talking. Dark embers in her eyes. A little unnerving; she's never this invested in one of his schemes. "Right — but that won't work. Trust me."

=KP=

"Camp Wannaweep. The worst summer of my life."

"I know, I know. The ticks, the poison ivy, the toxic lake, your mom stopped accepting your phone calls…"

"Yeah, you know, all that stuff was bad KP. But you know what was worse? Spending a whole summer away from you."

This is supposed to be a big moment; Ron never gets this serious. He holds that smile on for dear life. For her sake mostly. She replicates what Erica did for her the past night and grabs his hand, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. Her movements are as precise as Erica's and it seems to calm Ron down a little. She edges closer to him and he looks up.

"Ron, you know we're always going to be best friends. Nothing will ever change that."

Ron's spine folds inwardly and he says back, "What is it Kim?"

"What do you mean?"

"You want to tell me something, right? I can tell. You get this look in your eye when you're nervous."

"O-oh. Yeah. Um," she bites her lip. "Yeah. This is — kind of — a big deal — um — "

"It's okay, KP. You can tell me."

Ron's voice is always fluctuating but in this moment it's so steady. Her jaw tightens and she makes sure to really look at him when she says it.

At first, the sounds end abruptly and she has to catch her breath.

"I'm gay."

Nothing changes in Ron's eyes and it's infuriating. Of course he already knows, but this has been sparking dangerously within her for weeks now. It's this earth shattering revelation and he's just staring — it's so — anticlimactic. She chokes and falls into his arms, and no matter how kind his words are — no matter how present he is — they're drifting, gliding away on different planes of reality.

She reaches out and grabs his arm, tugging hard on his sleeve. Snot bubbles in her nose and she looks up at him. "I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to KP — "

"But it doesn't even feel like you're here."

Ron's jaw tightens; he's obviously holding something back too and she's not sure if he's drawing away because he doesn't want to take from her moment, or if it's because he just doesn't want her to know his little secret. She blinks back tears and is pretty sure she sees his freckles sparkle from his own crying.

"I'm trying, Kim," he says quietly.

It's like a nail in the coffin.

=KP=

She knows her parents love her, she's been telling herself that all week. But still, this isn't an easy conversation. It's strange, sitting across the living room from then. For the past three years, the spotlight has followed her relentlessly, yet in this moment, she's sweating under its focus. Maybe because this isn't famed teen hero, Kim Possible, it's just teenage Kim in an identity crisis.

She read online that it's typical for someone to bring their partner when coming out to their family — if that's the case. But Kim didn't invite Erica. Not ready for it yet or something. So instead it's Ron's clammy hand that's holding hers. She feels bad that she doesn't have the strength to reach back but he doesn't seem to mind. He's so warm and she's so cold.

"Mom, Dad…" Kim says slowly. She bites her lip and tries for a joke. "Tweebs…" It doesn't land. "Um...I wanted to talk to you guys because — it's become apparent to me that…"

She freezes and bows her head, taking in a deep breath. When she comes back up, everything is tense. Her brothers look up at her in wonder, they've never seen her this withdrawn before. A deep wrinkle cuts under Anne's dry eyes and it almost feels like she already knows. Her father is the one who seems the calmest. The way his bold eyes keep falling back to Ron's hand, he probably thinks the two are dating.

She should probably speak up now — else her Dad will probably think that she's pregnant. Not really the case.

"I'm gay."

It's two words that tear at her chest, and there's a deathly calm that follows.

Seconds pass and suddenly Kim is enveloped in warmth, tears are flying and everyone is holding each other. How could she forget she has the kindest most wonderful family in the world?

Ron is the last to fall into the group hug. His shaking hands very tentatively fall onto her shoulders and she turns up to him and lifts the hand off her lips and clutches onto him for dear life. She's never heard him sob before, but it's a very welcome change of pace.

=KP=

You're supposed to act normal when you bring someone to school by hand for the first time. It's casual, a declaration that you're taken, but clearly that has been the sitch for some time so as you saunter down those halls, you talk to your partner like you would on any other day. But queer people don't really get that.

Holding hands with Erica as they pass through the door, it's obvious that they are making a statement. They hold hands because they have to, they have to make it clear that they aren't like all the other kids. They're gay.

It makes her anxious. Kim has done this whole runaround before, like when she dated Josh Mankey. But that wasn't really a statement. She is gay, and will forever be gay, because hundreds of eyes are crawling all over her body and immediately looking away in feigned disinterest. But really, no one can stop talking about how the famous Kim Possible is gay.

Erica squeezes Kim's hand tight because she's there for her. Apparently, the new girl has already done this plenty of times at other schools so she's used to the staring.

The reaction that frightens Kim the most is Bonnie's. What will the rival cheerleader say? Is Bonnie homophobic? Will Kim not be allowed in the locker room with the other girls after this? Where does being gay fare on the food chain? Is it okay?

When Kim locks eyes with Bonnie, there's a spark that flies and sears. Then falls back like receding waves. Bonnie smiles. Not in a condescending way. Just as if to say Oh, I get it. Kim doesn't realize how tightly her jaw is clamped until she passes by her rival, and she has to see if she can get some Advil from the nurse's office because of it.

But the rest of the day is smooth sailing. Whatever Kim dreaded doesn't happen. Because maybe — just maybe — she can have this.

=KP=

"The Diablo toys are evil!"

Ron is stark raving mad. The cute balloon gates leading to the Prom bends under his weight and the music stops. Kim doesn't release Erica's hand as she stares at Ron sadly.

"See...wait — what?! Where are they?"

"You okay dude?"

"Oh I know that tone! That's the Ron's making it all up tone! But it doesn't matter what you think or what anyone else thinks because my best friend will believe me. Right Kim?"

Kim blinks a few times, just trying to catch up. She really doesn't want to believe Ron's story — something about looking smart and calm in front of Erica is important to her — people already think she's losing her marbles switching teams...but she really doesn't like Erica's condescension.

The way Erica's roughly lands her hands on Ron's narrow shoulders, that assumptive language. When Ron looks to her, her nerves ramp up in intensity. She grabs her bare arm and frowns.

"Oh...um...I believe you…? The toys were here."

"And they were evil!"

"Um — right."

"Buckle up Kim because it gets weirder."

She blows the hair from her eyes. Why is Ron making this into a scene? She knows something is going on between them but this is so not appropriate...

"Oh, I'll bet…."

"Drakken is behind the whole thing!"

Her heart stops. Drakken?

Erica laughs into her fist. "The takeover the world mad scientist guy?"

"Yes, look! It's all so obvious! He's using more than 30,000 Bueno Nacho locations worldwide to give out his evil prizes."

Kim looks to Ron and sees utter conviction in his eyes. Neither of them knows anything about Drakken's scheme —have known more since the Nakasumi-san sitch really. Drakken has completely waysided them and this — this stupid thing about evil toys? It is plausible?

Even if it isn't plausible — Ron would never use a mission to steal Kim away. He's not that kind of guy.

Kim reaches out and takes Ron's hand. He blushes for some reason. She raises an eyebrow but decides not to ask. "Ron, I believe you. Let's get out of here and call Wade."

Another hand touches Kim's. She looks back to see Erica's pleading eyes.

"His story is ridiculous, are you kidding me Kim?" Erica snarks.

Kim looks to Ron and hands him the Kimmunicator, nodding to him that she'll catch up. Ron pats her on the back and walks out the way he came in. Once she's certain he can't hear, Kim looks back up at Erica. "I know it's ridiculous but so is Drakken. Ron's my best friend and I trust him — if I'm wrong, I'll — "

" — if you're wrong, you're wrong. You can't make it up to me. This is it Kim."

Kim's heart stops again and she can feel her fingers slipping away from this beautiful girl's — even though they haven't moved an inch. Kim takes in a deep breath. "Don't make me choose that."

"Kim — you're scared. I get it, it's scary being gay — but — "

All heads turn towards them. The music stops again.

" — running away on a wild goose chase with your idiot best friend is not a rational response. Grow up. Do you want to be a closet case of a kid or do you want to be with me?"

Kim mouths something indistinct. There are so many eyes on her. Eventually, she whimpers something that sounds like "I'm sorry" and goes after Ron.

=KP=

"You will surrender! Shego went over to your dance and she found the cutest girl. Well, I don't have to tell you about her…."

"...Kim. What's going on?"

It hurts to much to see Erica held under Shego's arm; as mean and forceful as she is, she doesn't deserve this. Kim isn't ready to be with her and they kind of sort of just broke up but Drakken doesn't know that of course, so he kidnaps the poor girl.

"The choice is yours Kimberly Ann. If you care about your girlfriend's safety, surrender is your only option!"

Drakken has never been so scary.

"Wade," Kim says to the air, her screen paused on Erica's pretty face. "You said you were developing an experimental suit for me. We need to pull out all the stops — is it ready?"

=KP=

Shego's claw crawls across Erica's — or rather, Synthodrone 901's chest — greedily.

Kim should be looking at Erica but for some reason, she can't take her eyes off Shego.

Electricity is still crackling through her chest and she can't stay awake any longer. She wants to look at Erica and hope that maybe if she begs enough, the double agent will feel a shred of guilt and help her. But no. She can't look at Erica.

Kim's already disassociated — Erica isn't real. It is just a ploy. A ploy to get her to come out and look like a big idiot.

There's this high pitched cackle — it's unusual for Shego — she never sounds soft. It's playful — manic almost.

This isn't any ordinary scheme — it's easy to read behind the lines. Shego drapes her arm over Erica like the Synthodrone is property. Drakken may have cooked up the goo that made the Benedict Arnold...but it's Shego that aligned the chromosomes. She saw something desperate and raw hiding within Kim at the nightclub, and took full advantage of it.

A rare moment of intimacy has been molten into something very ugly.

Blackness.

=KP=

"You really think there's someone out there for me?"

Kim doesn't know why she liked Erica that much. Girl hasn't treated Ron with respect nor stopped pressuring her to come out. Like — makes sense that things turned out the way they did. But still — it really hurts.

Ron gets a little shifty eyed. She has a hard time focusing even though she's sure what he is saying is inspirational. Despite it all, he never stops believing in her.

"Out there...in here…"

She looks over to him and sees that frown. She wishes she could break free from these ropes and hold him tight. "Ron, I wish I could love you. I know it doesn't make sense to you because this is really new to you but….I can't. You're like a brother to me. And I don't mean that in a bad way. You're the greatest friend a girl you could have."

He smile a little. "Yeah. Always KP."

There's this long pause and finally she says something he doesn't really have the nerve to say right now. "I should stop throwing a pity party, huh?"

Ron grins. "Oh yes. Please."

"So...how do we get out of this?"

Ron laughed and clicked his tongue. "Rufus."

"Rufus?" she blinks back.

"Yeah, you don't see him down there with the laser lipstick?"

"What?" She looks down and sure enough, sees their naked little buddy with said Wade weapon clenched between his big honkin' teeth. "Oh dang."

As the laser cleaves through the ropes holding the duo down, Ron winks over to her. "Brain Trust has always got your back KP."

=KP=

"You know what I really hate?"

"That your date melted?"

"No. You."

Shego throws her arms up in defense but Kim is already way ahead of her. Her foot slips between the arms and aims for the green lady's chest.

It would be so easy. With the suped up strength of the battle suit, she can easily knock Shego all the way into that stupid signal tower — make the pain as personal as Shego did. After all, there's no way Drakken cooked up this scheme all on his own.

She can feel the flesh push against her heel and momentarily resist before being throttled. She can imagine the twitch in her own foot as it hangs in the air, waiting to feel the gush of wind from the resulting explosion.

But none of that happens. No — Kim's foot halts before Shego and just sort of hangs there. She wants so badly to for once let loose on someone but she can't do it. Something crackles in her eyes as she watches Shego tense as if she were about to die. There's a clap of thunder and then rain continues to pit-pat-patter around them.

There's this high-pitched wheeze that might be Shego's heaving breaths. Kim almost feels sorry for her.

Enough time passes that it feels safe to drop her foot. The two women look each other in the eye. Despite everything, Kim feels so much bigger than her.

"You knew I was gay," Kim says in a bit of an assumptive tone. "At the Bermuda Triangle, yeah?"

Shego looks away, hair matted down by the rain. "Yeah," Kim is pretty sure Shego mutters.

Kim shakes her head slowly. She can't believe what she's looking at right now. "You must be too then."

"Huh?" Shego looks up. "No, I'm bi."

Kim's eyes widen a little before she regains her composure. "Got it. But you still used my sexuality against me. Do you have any idea how messed up that is?"

No sound passes between them for some time.

Kim brushes some hair behind her ear. There's more words but Shego's not worth her time. She wants to kill her — like actually kill her but if she does that, she would get in serious trouble. But it makes sense. Her self-preservation is mangled and she's depressed — and gay. Shego is sort of gay too. This is what happens. It's systemic. It's community.

Shego needs help. What she did i so wrong but — Kim can't bare to sentence the woman. So Kim turns on her heel and walks away.

Shego doesn't move from her spot until the police come and cuff her.

=KP=

She really likes it when Ron holds her hand now. Before, he sweat at her touch, now he's so calm. It's nice.

People cheer when the duo walk onto the dance floor; they're probably misinterpreting what's happening between the two but that's okay. Who cares about this stupid food chain crap?

Rufus makes a move. He scurries to the floor and manages to push Kim's bare leg into Ron's baggy pants. They both blush. Ron stoops down and very gently pokes Rufus' nose.

"Hey little buddy, Kim likes girls," Ron whispers to Rufu. "It's not happening between us."

Kim smiles and leans forward. "But your support is always appreciated."

It's minutes later and they're in the center of everything. It's a slow dance, which is nice. Both of their bodies are heaving with exhaustion; it's a miracle they're both still standing.

The way Ron's hand is wrapped around her waist — it's very secure. She almost feels guilty because it's obvious what Ron is doing. The affection isn't coming from his wanting for her though — he just wants her to be happy, and to feel like the normal girl she was going to be with Erica.

She presses her chest to his and her fingers rub circles on the nape of his neck. Kim definitely got hit with the harsher end of the trauma stick in this sitch, but Ron still needs help too.

"Hey I misspoke earlier, and I don't mean to lead you on but..." she whispers as they spin around. "I love you so much."

He looks away from the flashing lights on the wall and into his friend. They've never really said anything like this before. "I love you too KP. You going to be okay?"

"Yeah. Long as I'm with you."

[eseria-writes]

Nix wasn't really expecting the customer to take so long getting back. Usually they came back quickly, enraged, screaming that her potion didn't get them the results they expected. They really didn't know what they were asking for; they should have asked for an infatuation potion. Then she could have told them she wouldn't be caught dead brewing that unethical garbage.

The prince was as desperate as the rest, and he seemed exactly the same. He was just a desperate fool, searching for anything to end his troubles, and he was wiling to cross too many lines in order to get there. A love potion? Please. Nix was quite glad that people didn't understand what they were asking for; it brought her quite a bit of joy to do a good deed by giving them exactly what they said they wanted.

She checked the calendar again. It had been a month. Usually it took the girl those assholes drugged about a week to drag their life through the mud, and they always came back to complain. She still wasn't sure why anyone thought it was a good idea to harass a witch. She didn't mind her new kitties, though. She liked pets!

It really was strange that the prince wasn't here yet- but she heard a rap on the door. Finally? She went to open it, looking through the peephole - and that wasn't the disheveled, angry man she'd expected to see. She opened the door to a handsome, fair-haired woman in a beautiful dress - somehow regal and friendly at the same time. She looked like she could be the prince's cousin. Nix had no idea what was going on.

"Thank you for the potion. It's been something that's missing for a long time. May I come in?"

At a loss for words, Nix mutely opened the door. It's not like this woman could harm her, anyway; especially not if she enjoyed her human form. She had to enjoy it, walking around like that, right. Nix was wonderfully comfortable in her own body, with her wiry, black-haired frame - but she had to be jealous of the certainty this woman projected.

Who was this woman, anyway? She said Nix had sold her a potion, and Nix knew she wasn't lying. But she hadn't sold any women- wait.

"Your Highness, what name do you go by now?"

The women flashed her a content smile. Honestly, Nix felt a bit cheated. She supposed she was happy for the princess, but - did she have to skip the step where being affirmed turned her into a blushing mess? It would've been cute.

"Maria, thank you. Ah - I don't believe I had the presence to ask your name when I came in before."

"It's Nix. I'm- nobody ever thanks me for the potion. It's - there's"

Goddess, why was she the blushing mess? She'd always liked this shop because it let her be the one holding the reins. He was supposed to crawl back wretched - but she was here, happy - so beautiful - she was smiling at her -

"I find that hard to believe. Love, brewed by a beautiful maiden? Who wouldn't want that?"

"Many people, actually. I'm - urgh." She pushed down the butterflies. This really wasn't fair at all. "So who loves you, then?" Her heart dropped at having to ask the question, but she knew she had to know. She had to understand why the potion didn't work. Surely that was the only reason she found this woman so disarming.

"I am beloved by my subjects for my able heart and confident poise. But besides that, to answer what I think you're asking, I drank it myself, of course."

Nix's soul returned to her body as her mind whirred. Suddenly, the pieces all began to click into place. Of course nobody was mad at her for dosing them with a love potion - what would be the point of being angry at yourself if you understood perfectly?

And - did the princess really understand the potion. She was giving Nix those sly little smiles - and Nix *knew* she knew exactly what she was doing - would it be better or worse if she knew that Nix knew?Instead of thinking about that too hard and ending up putty in her arms, she put on her best devilish mask.

"Why don't you sit with me, by the cats and tell me your story?"

She wanted them to understand exactly how much differently it could have gone, if they had made different choices. Besides - the enchantment on them broke if they genuinely repented, assuming they actually wanted to stop being cats, anyway. She supposed she'd be glad to see that.

So the princess sat down and told her tale. Nix listened intently, and tried not to be too obvious about how the casual contact and flirtatious remarks ere getting to her. (She failed.)

Nix had always told the customer - this potion I am brewing for you, whoever drinks it, they will be able to truly love all of you. She didn't think she was lying. After all, to love someone's entirety, you'd have to understand all of them.

So her customers place their potion in the drink of an unknowing maiden - maybe she'd be feel worse about the things she did if they were better people - and suddenly they knew everything about the man who bought the potion. Such as that he tried to drug her drink to coerce her into loving him.

When the girl who thought she was supposed to be a prince put the drink to her lips, though, she'd grown so used to loving the downtrodden. She'd heard their tales, she understood that they were trying their hardest to make a beautiful world given what they had.

Suddenly forced to see herself as she was, she had to understand. She wasn't a worthless boy who couldn't do anything good for her people.

She knew the truth. She was a beautiful girl, trying her best, worthy of love.

Desperate for pay, a witch brews a prince a love potion only to realize weeks later that he used it on himself.

[pendragon1400]

Long post. Really nothing important just a theater script I made for creative writing class, than put in my university's art journal. Wanted to put it on here just for fun.

The Eternity of Hades

THE CHARACTERS

The Delivery Man Hades

Cerberus Zeus

Thanatos Aphrodite 

Alexander Oracle of Delphi

Hermes Persephone

Scene One

In a dark cavern-like location, a man stands nervously in front of a black archway surrounded by jagged rocks. The man is carrying a large bag and peers around the edges of the archway.

Hades jumps out from around the corner of the archway, dressed in ancient Greek robes.

Hades: Ah! There you are! A bit late, I must say. Did you lose your way? I told Hermes that we needed signs along the river.

The Deliverer: No, it’s literally too hell to gone. Here’s your pizza.

Hades smiled: Much obliged, do you take cash? Or would drachmas be preferred?

The Deliverer: Cash is fine.

Hades pulled money out of a pocket and handed it to the Deliverer.

Hades: Thank you!

The Deliverer holds the cash in hand, as he walks back towards the rocky pathway.

Hades enters an area that resembles a form of Grecian temple, with a large dark red velvet sofa in the corner, where a dog is sleeping.

Hades: Cerberus, down! Just because mommy is not home does not mean you get to ruin her sofa.

A long deep tolling bell sounds through the room. Hades retrieves his mobile device while balancing the pizza with one hand.

Zeus (Through text): Bit of an update, Miranda is heading your way. Hera found out about “certain” activities LOL. Anyway, could U send Thanatos after Ares? He has been a constant irritation lately, as usual. U coming to the party Tues?

Hades places the cell phone down with a long stare of suffering only known by those who are kin to Zeus.

Hades: Why did I not block his number?

Hades sits beside Cerberus taking a slice of olive pizza. A dark figure with black wings floats into the room and grabs a slice of the pizza.

Hades: (With a scoff) Thanatos, you could have asked.

Thanatos: When is Persephone returning?

Hades: Two weeks. (He sighed) 

Thanatos nods before he heads out of the room and back through the black archway.

Aphrodite: Hades! Hades!

Hades chokes on his pizza, as he stares off at the archway. Reluctantly he places the pizza down.

Aphrodite stood before the arch; she was wearing a new tight pink sports outfit.

Hades: Aphrodite, what can I-

Aphrodite holds up one hand with a sour expression. 

Aphrodite: I want you to return what you stole from me.

Hades: (Frowning slightly) I don’t have anything that belongs to you, I rarely go up to Olympus, for a reason.

Aphrodite: Oh, please!  I want Alexander back.

Hades hesitates before he retrieves his phone from the table. 

Aphrodite: What are you doing?

Hades: Talking to Thanatos, he is the person you should be speaking with as well. I do not take in the dead.

Aphrodite: (Waved her hand in dismissal, her bracelet jingling in the process) Alexander died, and I want him back.

Hades: No, I’m sorry.

Aphrodite: What do you mean no?!

Hades: Ever since Orpheus and Eurydice, I swore off returning the dead.

Aphrodite: (Crossing her arms, with pursed lips) “What if it was against his destiny to die?”

Hades: Well Destiny is shapeable Aphrodite. It can be changed by a single act. I will release him if you can find evidence he was taken too soon. 

Aphrodite: (Smiling with a smug look) I will. I get what I want.

Hades: What did I get myself into?

Scene Two

Hades is seen walking around a room, in a robe with a bowl of ice cream in his hand. Cerberus is laying on the sofa, while a mirror is displaying the image of talking people, who appear to be in distress.

Aphrodite: “Hades!” 

Hades turns the mirror off, then walks towards the door, he stops as Aphrodite comes inside, dragging a woman wearing a white dress behind her.

Aphrodite: This is the Oracle of Delphi; she will tell you Alexander’s fate.

Hades: Yes, I am aware who this is... How did you convince Apollo to let you-

Aphrodite releases the Oracle, shoving her forward a few steps.

Aphrodite: Tell him!

Oracle: Alexander’s fate, was to become the favored of Aphrodite before he gained eternal comfort and peace by her hand.

Aphrodite: See? He is supposed to be with me and in the comfort of Olympus.

The Oracle furtively slinks out through the archway.

Hades: No, I do not exactly see your point. He was destined to die. What did you do anyway? Please tell me it was not another Troy situation.

Aphrodite: What do you mean? Comfort? Peace? That is your idea of death.

Hades: Yes. I don’t exactly rip out peoples’ livers you know! I make sure that everyone who comes to my kingdom is as welcome as I can. Except for Pirithous.

Aphrodite: Life is so desolate then?

Hades: No, it’s not Aphrodite.

Aphrodite flounces off stage, while Hades sits down with his phone. A cell phone buzzes as a text message from Hermes is displayed.

Hermes (Through text): Update, we just got a new plant for the natural world courtesy of Apollo!

Hades paused as the phone buzzed again,

Persephone (Through text): See you in a few days <3.

Hades: (Smiling as he reads his texts) Life is not desolate at all.

End.

[kyglow]

edith valued and cherished how kind beatrice was which only further provided an additional attraction towards the young woman. having gone to what would seem to be an extreme measure to get her alone as she didn't want to risk getting caught or seen with a woman especially one that was young. it would be a challenge to get what she wanted from barbie as edith only presumed barb was the religious type placing her faith heavily in god which might make it difficult to persuade the young woman into doing what edith wanted this evening. softly she smiled back at her flashing her teeth as warm eyes remained fixated on the young woman. " no need to apologise none of this is your fault unless you're the one who broke down my vehicle. " she joked with a chuckle escaping her lips and ran her hand through her hair brushing it over her shoulder as she would take a seat right beside barbie and then reached her hand out to pull and close the door shut. " i am glad you decided to call me although i have to say i was surprised. " she admitted when her smile would then dissipate slowly. her palms would smooth down the dress running palms along the front of her thighs. " i called someone but unfortunately, they'll be arriving in a few hours when it's daylight. " that part was true however it wasn't a mechanic she had called but rather an actor who owed her a favor after she had managed to pay off the young man's debt. noticing the soured expression which formed over barbie's features when curious to know how her date had gone. edith would turn her upper torso and would fold her leg over the other. resting her elbow on the top of the seat her hand would then rest on the back of her neck.

a look of intrigue would form in her gaze as she observed the young woman and couldn't help but feel a swell of pity for her. " he was a fool. best to not waste a thought or tears on those who do not value you. " she would advise her tone serious displaying how she was rather annoyed at her date. " i am so sorry for the way your date turned out. i believe that this boy may be blind because i would honestly say you're more than just pretty but rather quite beautiful. " she raised her chin airing out her thoughts and pushing boundaries slightly. her teeth dragged over her bottom lip. " why does it matter what he thinks when you're far better than he is. " she quirked her eyebrows and tilted her head off to the side when providing her an answer. his hand would reach out as she then brushed her blondish locks away from the side of her face. " did you want to kiss him? " an abrupt thought having crossed her mind only for edith to then slowly scoot over moving close to barbie. her lips curling into a soft smile

quietly, she stood by the car, hoping someone would pass by to help them out. as the sky grew dark, her unease intensified. she had left home under the false pretense of attending a bible study with the church's youth, knowing her father would disapprove. it was only a matter of time before he discovered her lie. despite her worries, she turned to her companion with a smile. "there's no need to be sorry. you didn't ruin my night. if anything, you saved what's left of it. i should probably apologize for dragging you into this mess. i just didn't know who else to call," she spoke softly.

with the broken-down car leaving them stranded, she followed edith's lead. "get comfortable? do you think help will be long?" she asked as she settled into the backseat, grateful for her the other's kindness. as they waited, her smile faded when edith asked about her date. her heart sank as she confessed, "there's not much to tell. he didn't like what he saw. we'd been talking for a while and decided to finally meet. it's the first time we've seen each other. i even wore my best dress," she admitted, her bitterness evident as she smoothed out her dress. "he just told me it wasn't going to work out. perhaps i'm not as pretty as he expected. do you…?" she hesitated, her pride momentarily set aside as she sought reassurance from her companion. "do you think he found me ugly, and that's why he left?"

[lady-literature]

Found Family

holy shit did this one get way out of hand. Don’t expect them all to be this long because hot damn this is a monster compared to literally everything else but it just wouldn’t stop

(should I have expected this? probably. we all know how I am about found family.)

anyway enjoy 4.5k words ig

based on this post | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

***

When Marinette had been chosen to intern with Monsieur Wayne’s PA, she hadn’t been expecting anything special. Sure, the Waynes were an odd breed and generally considered strange, but Marinette hadn’t actually expected to have much contact with them—if any at all.

She was here to earn credit for her business degree.

Instead, she has… well. She thinks she’s been somehow inducted into the Wayne family, mostly on accident and kind of as a joke.

That is, until it very much wasn’t.

***

Her first mistake, she supposes, was being too good at her job.

Marinette is an old hand at keeping track of multiple moving parts and riding herd on stubborn people who’d otherwise be too distracted or goofing off. (She was the Court’s leader for more than just being the latest in a long line of Ladybugs, after all.)

After the first two days shadowing Selina—“please, darling. Ms Kyle is so formal”—and learning the broad strokes of the job, Marinette felt confident enough to dig her nails in and get to work. Selina spent most of her time dedicated to international tasks and arranging Monsieur Waynes’ private affairs—all of which was highly classified and not discussed with Marinette—so she turned her attention to inter-company affairs.

Her first order of business was personally meeting with as many people in managerial positions as she could get. Not a requirement for the job per se, but these were people she’d have to interact with often and Maman had always stressed the importance of building connections in the workplace.

“People,” she would say, “are far more willing to do what you want them to when you’ve endeared yourself to them.”

So Marinette takes that advice and spends her breaks and lunches charming employees and giving baked goods to security guards and learning the names of the cleaning crew. She doesn’t speak to the department heads, because Selina handles their correspondences, but everyone else is free game as far as she’s concerned.

She becomes a well-recognized face astoundingly quickly.

***

Marinette probably should’ve seen the rumors coming.

It’s common practice in not only the Wayne family, but in most business conglomerates, for the children to quickly rise through the ranks of their company—if not just handed a high position right off the bat.

It took barely a month before the eldest was all but running Human Resources, and the second was placed as Head of Security practically out of nowhere. Monsieur Drake is the youngest (and most terrifyingly calculated) CEO to ever hold Wayne Enterprises, even if he does share the title with his father.

The other three are still too young or have yet to express an interest in the company, but people say it’s only a matter of time.

The track record speaks for itself, even if Marinette wishes it didn’t.

As a girl who’d come mostly out of nowhere and found herself with far more divisive sway in the company than she had any right to, it’s no wonder everyone thinks she’s some sort of secret Wayne finally coming out of hiding.

Marinette had nearly choked on her coffee when Selina dropped the bomb of that particular tidbit of company gossip.

“Most think you’ve been unofficially adopted,” Selina tells her, looking far too amused for Marinette’s liking. “Seeing as you’re too old for official avenues now.”

Marinette looks up warily from the schedule she’s rearranging. Selina had all but shoved the thing at her a month ago when she started suggesting more efficient ways of managing the CEOs’ valuable time.

“Only most? Does that mean the rest have common sense?”

Selina’s grin widens even further, if that’s possible, and Marinette regrets her question even before the older woman starts speaking.

“Oh, of course not!” she laughs delightedly. “The rest are hoping to hear news of wedding bells. It’s high time someone swept a Wayne off the market, don’t you think?”

***

“So you’re the new little sister I keep hearing about.”

Marinette stares up through narrowed eyes at the brightly smiling Dick Grayson. In her stomach, there are already the beginnings of resignation starting to form. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you!”

This man is going to bring her nothing but trouble. She can tell.

***

Dick takes a liking to her. And she, against her better judgment, finds herself doing the same to him.

It’s a little hard not to, if she’s being honest. He’s bright and bubbly and brings her bagels during his morning break without her ever having asked.

It takes practically no time at all before Marinette considers him a friend, relaxing when he’s near and laughing openly at his ridiculous jokes. Despite being the head of HR, he’s not great at the whole ‘professional’ thing and often employees will walk by to find him draped across a chair or balancing precariously on the edge of her desk while she tries and fails to get some work done while he’s around.

It really doesn't help all of the ‘Marinette is a Wayne’ rumors running around. Especially when Dick starts pointedly calling her every variation of ‘little sister’ that he can think of just to annoy her (and, she knows, because he thinks the entire situation hilarious).

***

Three weeks after befriending Dick, Selina all but shoves her into Monsieur Drake’s office and, in no uncertain words, says, “He’s your problem now.”

Marinette blinks at what she can describe as nothing other than a disaster area and just… sighs.

Tim blinks back at her.

The motion is somehow both completely blank and filled with an uncomfortable amount of knowing at the same time. There is also, she notices, a frankly ludicrous amount of concealer caked beneath his eyes and more coffee cups scattered on every flat surface than Marinette has ever seen in her life.

She knows his schedule like the back of her hand seeing as she spends hours of her day pouring over it to make sure everything runs smoothly. He has no prior engagements for the next three hours.

“You’re not going to take a nap just because I ask, are you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

She nods, having expected the answer; her phone was already at her ear before he even finished speaking. “Hey, Dick!” she greets, sounding brighter than she feels at the moment, and watches as Tim stiffens in front of her. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if you’re busy right now.” She pauses. “Oh, good! Can you come up to Tim’s office for me? Yeah, I need you to knock him out so I can fix his dumpster fire of an office.”

Tim has since started waving his hands frantically at her, panic setting in behind his eyes.

Marinette stares at him, unmoved. “Thanks, Dick! You’re the best!”

The silence after she hangs up is deafening.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by the ease you’re manipulating me or pissed off that you’re doing it in the first place.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Does your decision have any bearing on my future employment?”

His eyes squint. “…No.”

Marinette shrugs, mind already whirling with what she’ll need to get done first and calculating how long she’ll likely have to get it done. “Then I think you should skip right over both of those and land on resignation as quickly as possible, Monsieur, because you’re going to have to get used to it regardless.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and she worries for just a second that she’s severely crossed some sort of line. Then Tim bursts out laughing instead of, you know, firing her like he probably should have.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to fit right in here.”

Marinette doesn’t ask where the ‘here’ is. She’s pretty sure she already knows.

***

It takes ten days for Marinette to wrangle Tim’s life into something resembling order. His office is clean and organized to his liking. She’s developed a system of filing so that all paperwork goes through her and is quickly sorted into ‘can be handled by Marinette’, ‘forge his signature and tell him about it later’, and ‘actually important enough to have Tim read through’.

His schedule is the most efficient it’s ever been and Marinette is quickly honing the skill of getting him properly dressed and out of his office in under thirty minutes. (Dick is, thankfully, a great teacher and has little to no qualms about giving her the key to all his little brother’s weaknesses.)

Selina stares at her when Marinette all but drags Tim from his office, a folder tucked neatly under his arm and the sugary monstrosity of a caffeinated beverage she’s bribed him with in her own, with a whole ten minutes to spare before his meeting with the Board.

“My dear,” she says solemnly, “you are positively magic.”

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s simultaneously wrangling Tim’s hair into submission and laying his tie down flat. “You have no idea.”

***

She knows Tim is capable of professionality. She’s seen the cool facade he pulls up in front of the Board members and the kind but impersonal smile he uses on the employees of Wayne Enterprises. (He is not the Ice Prince of the Wayne family, but Marinette believes he should have some equally ruthless sounding title.) He is aloof and sharp and every inch the businessman people praise him to be.

She’s seen it. And yet… 

“Monsieur. Why are all the Lexcorp contracts I gave you done in crayon?”

Tim doesn’t stop messing with his Rubix cube or even look up at her when he says, “Cause deadbeat fathers don’t deserve the respect of a pen.”

Marinette is very tired. She does not have time for this. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex is a bitchass absentee dad and I live to inconvenience him.”

“What about inconveniencing me?” she all but whines. “I can’t hand him these!”

That does make Tim look up at her, eyes wide with false innocence and mouth pouting up at her. “But sister dearest, I’m your little brother. It’s my job to inconvenience you.”

Growling in frustration is probably an inappropriate reaction to the situation.

But, Marinette thinks, so is the fact that both of the Waynes she associates with regularly seem hellbent on convincing the world that she too, is a Wayne, so.

(Is this how Alya felt dealing with the twins? Cause if so, Marinette takes back every joke she ever made—little siblings are a bitch.)

***

She meets Damian without warning.

Honestly, she never really expected to meet him at all but, well.

She finds him in Monsieur Wayne’s office, sitting at his father’s desk and doing something that she thinks is vaguely illegal, but she’s not about to tell her Boss a dozen times over how to parent his children.

Damian is a near-perfect copy of his father with darker skin and calculating green eyes. There’s also a more potent aura of danger around the child than there is around his father, like Damian hasn’t yet learned how to hide behind his public persona as his father had.

Or, Marinette looks at the teen thoughtfully, perhaps he just chooses not to.

“Monsieur Wayne,” she greets. Children like to be treated like adults, she knows, and Marinette doesn’t think this one is any different. “Selina hadn’t told me you’d be in the office today.”

“I don’t run my schedule by her,” he says flatly. A response she expected considering Dick’s stories.

“Of course not,” she agrees.

He finally deigns to look up at her and something flits across his expression, too fast for her to pick up on it. “Are those for Father? Bring them here, I’ll deal with them in his absence.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s wise Monsieur.”

Damian scowls and sticks his hand out. “I’m perfectly capable of forging Father’s signature. Give them here.”

She does not move and, instead, lets her lips quirk up into the smile she’s been fighting since she stepped in here.

“I don’t doubt it,” she tells him, and she doesn't. Forgery seems exactly like the kind of skill a child who broke into the CEO’s office of a multi-billion dollar company would have. “But you’ll find that all forging of signatures has been finished for the day and that these,” she shakes the sheaf of papers lightly, “actually require your father’s attention.”

He snorts disbelievingly and it says a lot about Marinette’s life up until now that the blatant display of disrespect doesn’t piss her off but instead reminds her of Chloé and of the fact that she still needs to reschedule their spa day. It's been too long since they spent time together in person.

“Well,” she pauses and eyes the papers thoughtfully. “‘Requires’ in the sense that its information needed to trounce the Board when they start spouting off greedy bullshit about cutting corners on our humanitarian efforts. I’m not sure how much of it is actually useful for anything besides that.” She shrugs. “But homework is homework, yes?”

That gets her a thoughtful once-over. His hand lowers and he then turns back to whatever he’s messing with on his father’s computers.

“Very well,” he concedes. “Father will be back in approximately thirteen minutes. You can leave the papers and I’ll inform him of their… importance.” He smirks, but it’s more like he’s letting her in on a joke than anything else.

Marinette smiles back as she sets the folder on the desk, feeling, oddly, like she’s passed some sort of test.

***

The day after, both Dick and Tim are waiting for her with what looks like an entire bakery laid out in her workspace.

“Uh,” she says eloquently, setting her purse down on her chair because there’s not a single open space on her desk not filled with some kind of pastry. “What’s all this?”

She looks up to find neither Dick nor Tim has stopped staring at her since she walked in. “We heard you met Damian yesterday,” Dick starts warily, like he’s scared of her reaction.

The response does not abate her confusion. 

“Yes, I did,” she says slowly. “That does not explain all… this.” She waves a hand, trying to encompass them as well as the state her desk is in.

The two brothers share a look.

“It’s a bribe,” Tim tells her simply and Marinette is taken aback for all of a second before her eyes suddenly narrow.

Dick cuts in hastily before she can say anything. “It’s more of an apology, really. For Damian’s behavior.”

But Marinette is confused and frustrated and just a bit offended by the apparent not-bribe at this point. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but it only does so much.

“Damain’s behavior was fine,” she tells them with measured neutrality. “You two, on the other hand, are being weird and it’s freaking me out.” She crosses her arms expectantly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Appearing from out of nowhere, Selina drapes herself along Marinette’s shoulders and snags a raspberry scone. “I do believe,” she says as if sharing a secret, “That they are trying to keep you from quitting, kitten.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Why would I quit? I like this job.”

She also likes the Waynes (in general, if not right then) and she likes Selina. The woman was a good mentor who didn’t shy away from the dirtier parts of the job and taught Marinette all she knew. (Even the bits, she noticed, that had little to nothing to do with being a personal assistant and were more likely to be found in the repertoire of a thief.

But, Marinette is in possession of her own sticky fingers and knows how to not ask questions, so. You know—curiosity killed the cat and all.)

She doesn’t voice any of that, but Selina, at least, knows it anyway. Marinette isn’t quiet about her gratitude after all.

“First meetings with the youngest Wayne don’t often go well,” Selina tells her. “In fact, I think he has a habit of making the interns cry.”

Dick makes some kind of offended noise. “Hey! He hasn’t done that since he was twelve!”

Tim elbows him in the ribs and Marinette makes a vaguely skeptical face at all three of them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. She has actual work to get done today and pastries to get rid of before she can even start.

She pats affectionately at Selina’s hand before grabbing as many boxes as she can hold. “Come on you two,” she says to the brothers. “You’re going to help me hand these out to the rest of the company.”

Dick immediately starts doing as told but Tim hesitates, humming thoughtfully. “You know that’s not going to help your whole ‘I’m not actually a Wayne’ thing, right?”

She glares at him. It doesn’t stop Tim from grinning like the utterly unrepentant little shit he is.

***

Things are quiet after the Damian Incident for a whole two weeks. It’s the longest lull Marinette has had since she first started and became somehow involved with the Waynes.

It ends because Dick finds out about the crush Marinette has been nursing on the Head of Security for three months now.

The Head of Security who is Jason Todd: second eldest Wayne sibling and Dick’s brother.

He takes it better than expected.

(Almost, she thinks later, a little too well.)

***

Despite her friendship with Dick and Tim—or perhaps because of it?—Jason had never seemed very interested in her. At first, Marinette had shrugged and counted it as a win; there was one Wayne, at least, who neither found her situation funny nor used it to poke fun at her.

They were on friendly terms, she supposed. Security has always been one of her more regular stops in the building, so she’d spoken to him often enough. He liked complaining that she spoiled his team rotten with all her treats.

But she also noticed that he likes her cherry danishes, so.

And then she noticed how crooked his grin was when he smiled. And how he seemed to have an arsenal of nicknames for everyone he knew. And the small collection of classic romance novels filled with sticky notes he tries and fails to hide in his desk. And, and, and.

It was around the time she began unconsciously memorizing his schedule based on when he was and was not there for her pastry deliveries, that she realized she may have made a misstep somewhere.

Jason was stubborn and passionate and flipped between overly proper and crass light a damn light switch. He was also, as stated, very much not interested in her.

Not that she would’ve pursued him anyway. He was a coworker as well as her friends’ brother.

Now if only one of said brothers could understand that.

“You should ask him out,” Dick suggests not for the first time and Marinette sighs, also not for the first time.

She loves Dick—she truly does—but he has been an aggravating level of unhelpful since he found out about Marinette’s latest romantic disaster.

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

Dick groans, like she’s being the unreasonable one. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I don’t like embarrassing myself?” she asks rhetorically. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance like you and Wally.”

He throws his coffee stirrer at her. “We are not a fairy tale.”

She shoots him a flat look. She’s heard Dick talk about Wally and Tim’s told her all the stories and she was there when he and Wally finally got their shit together. Dick was unbearable for an entire week with his gooey, lovestruck new lease on life.

“You two are the definition of fairy tale. You two make fairy tales look like trashy romance novels.”

He opens his mouth to argue the point before forcibly cutting himself off. “No. Stop distracting me. We’re not talking about that; we’re talking about you and Jason.”

“There is no ‘me and Jason’,” she reminds him through her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” he says optimistically. Like it’s a fact, like he knows something she doesn’t.

He makes her want to slam her face into a wall. Truly, he does.

***

Dick stops running his HR papers up to her office. Instead, he’s somehow convinced Jason to play errand boy for him even though he literally never looks happy about it. What used to be a flimsy excuse for Dick to slack off for a few minutes and gossip with her has now turned into awkward silence as Jason drops off the papers and leaves without even a ‘hello’.

During their shared breaks, Dick takes to orchestrating ‘chance encounters’ between her and Jason, all but shoving them into each other (and even actually shoving that one time).  She catches Jason shooting dark looks at Dick every time he does it, and if she’d been holding any iota of hope at this point, it’s been smashed to dust. Jason obviously knows of his brother’s meddling and isn’t happy about it.

But Dick just can’t take the hint.

Every failed plan of his makes him steadily worse about it all—more frantic and frustrated and like he wants to strangle her for her stubbornness. (The last feeling being more than mutual.)

Dick’s meddling starts to make her and Jason’s previously friendly, if distant, relationship awkward and embarrassing. With every pointed comment, she gets closer to just punching Dick in the face. Or, maybe, she’ll just tell Wally who really ate all the chocolate strawberry macaroons she made; it’d certainly be more devastating.

***

It all comes to head on a Thursday, after most employees have left for the day. 

They run into each other in a breakroom, and she watches as Jason suddenly goes stiff, eyes flicking over her shoulder to no doubt scan for Dick. That single action makes her expression sour and she slams her empty mug down with more force than was necessary.

For Kwamis sake, he looks like a cornered animal. An image not helped by the way he jumps a foot in the air and stares at her like he’s worried she’ll suddenly lunge at him.

“Can we agree this is ridiculous?” she says abruptly. “I don’t know what Dick is trying to accomplish with his wingman schtick, but we both know it’s not going to work. Can we just… agree that he’s an idiot?”

A complicated look crosses Jason’s face before he snorts wryly. “Yeah, we can agree on that. Dickie-boy has always been a few sandwiches short a picnic.”

“I know things have been awkward between us lately, and I’m sorry about that, but I hope we can keep being friends?” she says hopefully.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” he asks before she can start catastrophizing about the bewildered expression he makes at her words. “It’s not your fault.”

The smile she shoots him is rueful and she shakes her hand in an ‘ehh’ type gesture. “Kinda is. And I understand if the-” she makes a vague gesture between them that she hopes properly conveys ‘my giant, stupid crush on you’, “you know, is too much for you. Just say the word I’ll try and keep out of your way.”

She’s trying to be comforting or understanding or something like that, but all her words seem to do is make him upset. “Absolutely not,” he insists. “Sunshine, you are not going to change your routine just to make me feel better.”

Marinette crosses her arms, frowning up at him. “Why shouldn’t I? If I’m making you uncomfortable-”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uncomfort- Marinette. ” She jolts a bit at the use of her name. She doesn’t think he’s used it since her second week at W.E. “I’m not sure who made you think otherwise—and if it was Dick just tell me cause I’ll kick his ass —but barring the fact that I still enjoy your friendship regardless of any… feelings-” Marinette concentrates very hard on not showing emotion when he says that, “-it’s not your responsibility to deal with it.”

Okay, but… that makes no sense. Of course her feelings were her responsibility, that’s the whole point of them being hers.

“If it’s not mine, then whose responsibility is it then?” she asks, wondering where the hell his train of thought is running.

“Mine, obviously.”

She gives him a look, complete with narrowed eyes and thinly veiled judgment. “What? Is this some kind of gentleman’s martyr complex? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Jason huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “If me taking responsibility for my own damn feelings is a martyr complex then sure,” he snarks, not unkindly. More like he’s trying to protect himself by retreating behind a sour attitude.

Her mouth is halfway around a retort when his words catch up to her brain and she freezes.

“Your feelings?” she repeats. “Your feelings for… me?”

His voice is carefully neutral when he says, “Those would be the ones.”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again. “You like me? Seriously?”

His face spasms at the question, starting at anger before he properly looks at her and the surprised expression on her face. He pales.

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” she squeaks, something she hasn’t done since she was fifteen. “Well Dick said but I didn’t believe him!”

And fuck, she thinks. This means Dick knew the whole damn time, didn’t he? Oh, she is so going to kill him the second she gets the chance.

Jason runs a hand down his face, covering his mouth as he gathers his bearings. Suddenly, his eyes shoot back open and land on her. “Wait. If you didn't know, then what the hell were you talking about just now?”

She blushes to the tips of her ears and buries her face in her hands so she doesn’t have to look at him. It was easy when she thought he’d figured it out himself. It’s harder now that she has to tell him. “I- I was talking about my crush on you.”

He’s quiet for so long that she gets antsy and peeks out from behind her fingers to see his expression. He’s still looking at her, but now there’s a wide, crooked smile on his face. The expression softens something in her chest and she lowers her hands.

“Really?” he asks, leaning closer.

Marinette nods, feeling a small smile spread across her lips.

He jolts forward, hands reaching for her before suddenly stopping just shy of touching. She startles a bit at the motion but doesn’t move away.

Jason licks his lips, smile smaller but no less bright. “I- can I?”

She blinks. “Can you what?”

“Kiss you.”

The blush returns full force, but with it also comes a smile, giddy and bright. She nods and no sooner than she does, is he swooping down to pull her into a toe-curling kiss. His hands cup her face with a tenderness that makes her smile, makes her giddy, and it’s not long before they’re both smiling too wide to actually kiss and are forced to break apart.

His hands fall to her back, practically engulfing her, and his chin drops onto her head. It’s warm and cozy and she thinks she could so very easily get used to this.

Later, they’re going to have to deal with Dick and Tim and Selina and the teasing they’ll no doubt have to endure—not to mention how much worse the rumors are going to get—but right now? Right now Marinette pulls Jason back down for another kiss and very pointedly doesn’t think about it.

[sinner-as-saint]

Purpose.

Mob!Bucky x Reader AU 

Requested. 

Run-through: You have an argument with your boyfriend and you call him out on all of his shit. You’re sassy and rude, and the mob boss can only tolerate so much disobedience. So when you turn around to leave, he doesn’t take it very well. And given you’ve been running your mouth all this time, he shuts you up and shows that sassy little mouth its true purpose... 

Themes: FILTH, smut, daddy kink, dirty talk, oral sex

You and Bucky have been bickering all day. 

Even at the party; anything he would say or do would simply annoy you. This all started this morning due to his grumpy mood which then rubbed off on you and now, by the time you both made it home - you were straight up arguing over random stuff

“You’re being all crazy. I don’t even know what we’re arguing about.” 

“Shut up.”

And it would simmer down for a few minutes, but then you’d be at it again. Arguing over useless stuff for no reason; both of you frustrated and running low on patience. 

“Baby, calm down.” 

“Don’t ask me to calm down, you started this with your shitty mood.” 

You walked into the living room, pissed off and wanting to get away from Bucky but he had been following you around the house ever since you two got home.

“Will you at least tell me what I can do to make it better? Even though I don’t know what I did and you refuse to tell me?” 

“Leave me alone, Bucky.” You went over to the mini bar and tried pouring yourself a drink but Bucky interrupted you even then. 

“No.” His voice was firm and deep. “What the hell is going on right now-,” 

You cut him off by rolling your eyes and moving away from him to grab a glass. You heard him sigh and swear under his breath. Something along the lines of ‘bitch’. And that set you off. 

“What the fuck did you just call me?” 

He sighed again, “Nothing.” He tried walking away but you called out after him. 

“You wanna know who’s a bitch? You. Because you couldn’t take your eyes off someone else’s girl tonight.” You didn’t mean to say that, but your anger got the best of you. You had gone over this earlier and he had made it clear that no, he wasn’t staring at another woman all night long. 

He narrowed his eyes at you, sending you a glare which should’ve shut you up but didn’t. “Watch your words, and your tone.” 

You let out a dry chuckle. “Why? So you can just be a manwhore but I can’t raise my voice? Screw you!” You turned around to leave the living room, the drink you were making yourself long forgotten. 

You heard him call out for you. “Don’t you dare walk away from me! Come back here and we’ll fix this. Right now!” He sounded irritated. But you didn’t stop. 

You walked upstairs and packed yourself an overnight bag. Tonight, it seems you’d be spending back at your apartment instead of at your boyfriend’s lavish mansion. You didn’t care, you needed to be away from him. His very presence was pissing you off. 

You grabbed your bag and made it downstairs in the span of a few minutes. He was by the bar, finishing off the drink you started making earlier. He turned his head sharply once he saw you. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

You kept walking, ignoring him; knowing he hated it so much when you did that. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, louder. 

You stopped for a brief moment, turned to send him a dirty look. “Away from you.” 

He clenched his jaw and crossed the living room to get to you but you had already begun walking towards the front door by the time he reached you. He ran to you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you into his strong chest. You got a whiff of his perfume and tried your hardest not to give in. His cologne had always been a weakness of yours. 

“You’ve been running your mouth all day, and all evening. And now you think you can just leave?” He sounded pissed too, his patience running low. 

You managed to get your arm out of his grip, he let you, thinking you would apologize or walk back inside so you two could fix this but instead you glared at him and turned around to walk away again. 

“Oh you think you can just-,” he couldn’t believe the audacity you suddenly had. “Come back here!” He grabbed you by your hand again, snatched the travel bag out of it and threw the bag somewhere before dragging you back to the living room. 

He had to carry you for the last few steps because you were screaming right at his face. 

“Enough!” he grabbed you gently by the jaw and stared into your eyes with his deep blue eyes making you shiver. “You’ve been such a brat, I can’t believe I’ve been able to tolerate your behavior for so long.” He pulled your face closer to his, and you immediately stopped resisting. “Get on your knees.” 

You didn’t do so immediately, which made him raise an eyebrow at you; intrigued by your unusual disobedience. “Oh? So you’re gonna resist me now?” He leaned in, trailing the tip of his cold nose across your cheek. You shivered again, closing your eyes instinctively. “You’ve been such a bad girl today.” He whispered in your ear. “Been running that sassy little mouth…” he spoke as his thumb traced the outline of your lips, definitely smudging your lipstick. 

You swallowed audibly, anticipating what would follow. 

He pulled away and smirked. “That’s all you need right now I believe. You just need daddy to help you out of that sour mood, don’t you babygirl?” His voice was already calming you down, but you refused to give in just yet. Even though you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for long. 

He chuckled. “Think you can just be mad at daddy for no reason? How cute…” he tightened his grip on your jaw. “Get on your knees, now. That sassy mouth of yours has been getting me on my nerves all day. Think it’s about time I teach you a little about it’s true purpose, huh?” 

You didn’t say anything. He smirked. “On your knees, now.” 

You quickly sank down to your knees in front of him. You were grateful for the fluffy carpet you knelt on, because who knows how long he’s gonna keep you on your knees. He spoke up again. “Now come on, we both know what else that pretty little mouth is good at other than being sassy. Show me.” 

Your hands hurried to undo his belt, unzip his pants and lower his underwear to free his erected cock. The mere sight of his thick cock had you whining with need, but this wasn’t about you. This was about proving him right. 

You wrapped your hands around his cock and placed your mouth on his tip; your tongue slowly circling his tip. Bucky slid his hand into your hair and grabbed a fistful of it; tugging on it gently and slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “There we go, take it. Take all of me. This is all you’re good for, isn’t it baby?” he threw his head back and let out a strained moan. “All you’re good for is sucking daddy’s cock…” 

You bobbed your head around his tip; taking him in inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. You kept your eyes on his face as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes momentarily, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked majestic. He moaned as he pushed himself deeper into your mouth, fucking it like he owned it. 

“This is all you needed, isn’t it you little brat?” He taunted, grunting and tugging on your hair. He bucked his hips forward into your mouth, and loved the sight of your spit coating his cock as you gagged just a little. You looked so pretty on your knees, he thought, taking him perfectly.

You repeated your actions again and again, hollowing your cheeks. The growls and moans which escaped his lips made you squirm and it only added to the dampness which was forming in your underwear. And his dirty, dirty mouth… 

“Keep going babygirl, come on… show me what that mouth is good for.” He quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of you; eager to chase his orgasm.

“That’s right, it’s only good for sucking daddy’s big cock, isn’t it?” He twitched against your tongue and you tasted some of his pre cum.

“You’re such a good little slut for daddy, aren’t you? See how easy it is when you shut up and behave, and do as I say?” He swore under his breath as you dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip very lazily.

The moment you slowed down a little, you earned yourself a gentle smack on your cheek. It made you squeal in surprise. “Did I ask you to slow down, kitten? No I didn’t, keep going.” He growled when you sped up again. 

“Look at you squirming,” he chuckled darkly. “You just need daddy to fill you up, don’t you? You’re desperate for daddy to just fuck you, aren’t you baby?” 

His words made you whine, and you discreetly tried to slide your hand down through the slit of your dress and touch yourself but before you could, he caught you. “Put your hands where I can fucking see them!” he hissed and tugged on your hair, making your moan with your mouth full of his cock. You immediately removed your hand from under your dress and placed them on your lap instead. “Don’t you dare touch yourself. Bad kittens don’t get to play with themselves while sucking daddy’s cock, you understand me?”

You nodded. Well then… 

You knew you were walking on thin ice here, but you couldn’t resist teasing him. He was already ‘punishing’ you, what else would he do? 

He caught the mischief in your eyes as you took him out of your mouth, licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. He looked down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

“Don’t tease me, kitten,” he growled, looking down at you with his intense blue eyes. 

 Those words were all it took for you to take him back into your mouth. You felt the veins of his firm cock ramming in and out of your mouth. You felt his muscles tightened under your touch, and you knew he wouldn’t last much longer. So you quickened your pace, and he moaned over and over again as he reached his high.

With one final, rough push into your mouth, you felt him come undone. His cum trickled down your throat and you swallowed him obediently. Slowly, he pulled himself out of your mouth and bent down to look at you from up close. Your lips were swollen, and spit ran down your chin along with his cum. You were panting; an overall mess. 

You were much calmer than before, he could tell by the look in your eyes. “Not so bratty anymore, are you?” He asked, standing up straight and held his hand out for you to take. “Up. Come on.” 

You took his hand and stood up, your knees felt weak but luckily he held you tight against him. “I don’t like punishing you, babygirl. You know that, right?” 

You nodded at his words. 

He stroked your cheek with his thumb, softly. “But do you agree that you’ve been bratty for no reason today?” 

You nodded again. 

He smirked. “Well then, you deserve a proper lesson, don’t you kitten? Go wait for me upstairs,” he leaned in just enough to make your heart race, but not kissing you yet. “I want you naked on the bed when I get there, you hear me?” 

You nodded. “Yes, daddy.” 

He smiled, kissing you on the side of your mouth; making you whine in need.

“Good girl.”

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Nine

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: not an ending, but a middle.

this chapter was ridiculously difficult to write and edit. it tops out at 7.5k words so… beware

***

Cassian and Nesta make full use of the summer house without his friends there, making love on every other surface just because they’re all alone and they can. Nesta shows a soft spot in particular for having sex in Cassian’s old bed, proving to him that she can be just as sentimental as he is.

Which is how they end up sprawled naked on the living room floor early the next morning, fast asleep in each other’s arms with nothing but a throw blanket to cover them.

Cassian is woken up by the sound of the front door being flung open, followed promptly by a feminine yelp as the intruder catches sight of the tangled couple in the living room. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Cassian whips his head up to find who interrupted his sleep, and his nostrils flare in shock when he sees Mor at the entryway. He carefully but swiftly moves his arm out from under Nesta’s head and replaces it with a nearby pillow before starting to stand up. “What the hell are you doing—”

“Fuck no, I can see your ass—No, now I can see your dick!” Mor squeals in disgust, promptly spinning around and clapping her hands over her eyes like she can burn the image out of her mind.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Cassian whisper-hisses at her, throwing a worried glance at Nesta’s still sleeping form. She doesn’t shift an inch.

Scooping up his flannel sleep pants from the floor, Cassian pulls them on while Mor makes gagging noises with her back to him.

Spying a pair of underwear flung over the arm of a chair, she bends to pick them up with two pinched fingers and turns to face Cassian, who’s now appropriately covered. Heavy judgment wrinkles her nose as she casts a glance to the owner of the panties, then to Cassian. “Granny panties, Cass? Is this what your sex life has been reduced to?”

“Don’t touch Nesta’s underwear.” He stalks over to Mor and snatches them out of her hand, before grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her off into the kitchen.

She shakes him off once they’re out of earshot from Nesta and takes a seat across from him at the wooden breakfast table. She brushes her golden hair over a shoulder and smirks. “Someone’s been having fun on their own while waiting for the rest of the party to arrive.”

“What are you doing here?” Cassian repeats.

Mor waves a languid hand dismissively. “I ended up taking a commercial flight. I wasn’t a fan of being stuck on the same private plane as Az and Elain.”

Cassian blows out a tight breath, wishing he’d at least gotten some warning before his plans for the day were ruined. Plans that included taking Nesta in the lake before breakfast.

“But seriously,” Mor glances over her shoulder in the direction of the living room, “what’s up with the prude panties? I thought you would’ve thawed that ice pussy by n…” She trails off at the look on Cassian’s face, and a glimpse of fear crosses her own face. She forces a nervous laugh and twists her fingers together. “I suddenly remember making a promise a while ago,” she murmurs while staring down at the table.

“It’s a good thing you remember,” Cassian says stoically, “because I was just about to bring it up.”

“I know, I know, no criticizing your girlfriend.” Mor rolls her eyes.

“It’s about a lot more than that,” he grits. “It’s about how you’re only wary of her because you don’t trust me to choose who I give my love to. It’s about how you don’t respect my decision enough to maintain boundaries when you talk about Nesta.”

For once, Mor looks put off her game. “I never meant it like that,” she tries to say.

“That’s what it looks like,” Cassian retorts. “It looks like you’re judging someone you have no right to judge, like you’re trying to protect me from an imaginary threat.”

Mor coughs aloud. “Do I really need a scolding for a girl I see maybe twice a year? I haven’t even thought about Nesta since the New Year’s party.”

“It’s not a scolding,” Cassian says firmly. “It’s an order to be on your best behavior for the duration of this vacation, because the sisters and I went through a lot to get Nesta to come here. There will be no catfights, or backtalk, or rude looks and snide tones until we’ve returned home. The same applies for everyone else once they get here.”

“Or, how about this? I’ll stop making ice pussy jokes if you stop being this…” Mor waves a hand up and down at Cassian’s shirtless figure with a grimace, “unrecognizable creature with the tension of a forty year old single dad.”

Is Cassian tense? Of course he’s fucking tense. The last time he convinced Nesta to go to a family event with him was Christmas Eve, and he’s never letting that mistake be repeated ever again. His glare confirms it.

“Morrigan,” he says lowly with a hint of warning.

“Okay, okay,” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in surrender. “But for the record, I’ve never said anything rude to your girlfriend’s face, and I never plan to.”

Cassian crosses his brown arms across his chest. “No, you’ve only done it to my face.”

Guilt crosses Mor’s features for the quickest second. “Oh.” She bites her bottom lip. “In that case, I’ll pull back from now on.”

He releases a terse breath. “Good.” Now to hammer the message into anyone else who might threaten the quiet solitude he and Nesta have found here.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she adds somewhat apologetically. “You know I just want the best for you.”

“And you know I already know what’s best for me.”

Mor dips her head in reluctant acknowledgment. “Can we go back to normal, then? I don’t like feeling like your adversary.”

Cassian’s shoulders slump in relief, and his crossed arms fall away. “Of course, Mor.”

Like flipping a switch, Mor claps her hands together. “Good. I left my luggage in the rental car and it’s super heavy; I brought enough clothes for three outfit changes a day. Why don’t you put those big strong muscles to work while I get settled into my room?”

Before Cassian can object, she’s out of her seat and flouncing out of the kitchen. From the entry hall, Cassian can hear Mor say perkily, “Good morning, Nesta! Love the undies.”

Cassian drops his head onto the table with a thud, lifts it, then drops it again. Mor is going to be a work in progress.

“You okay?” A voice makes Cassian look up from the wooden table. Nesta stands in the kitchen entryway wearing nothing but Cassian’s shirt, and her hair is a rumpled mess from sleep. Her hands twisting into the hem of his tee tells him she couldn’t be less excited about Mor’s early arrival, though the rest of her doesn’t show it.

Exhausted apprehensiveness drops in Cassian’s gut. “How much of that did you hear?” he asks warily.

“Not much. I just woke up a minute ago and heard your voices.” She comes over to him and wraps a comforting arm around his shoulder. “Why, were you guys arguing?”

Cassian slings his arm around Nesta’s waist, basking in her warmth. “Not exactly.”

She frowns. “Was it about me?”

“It was about Mor.”

She nudges him. “Will you tell me about it?”

“No,” he quips, yanking her down onto his lap. He pecks a kiss onto her lips. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Nesta hums to herself. “So our morning plans are out the window?” she asks, raising a brow.

“Yup.”

“Does Mor actually like my undies?”

“Nope.”

***

The rest of Cassian’s friends and Nesta’s family arrive by late afternoon, piling out of a dark SUV in a frenzy of noise and colors. Nesta forgot how… many of them there were.

She lets Cassian and Mor handle the greetings, choosing to observe everyone from her spot near the stairs.

Azriel is the first to catch her eyes. He looks the same as ever, dressed head to toe in black even in the middle of a heat wave. Elain is an overdressed peacock in comparison to him, not that anyone would be comparing them, because they carefully stand at opposite ends of the entry hall.

He sends a simple nod Nesta’s way, which makes her narrow her eyes. Does he think he can act too cool for her just because they haven’t talked in a while? Idiot.

Feyre notices Nesta next and waves her arms wildly. “Get over here!”

Nesta reluctantly pulls away from the banister and nears their group, offering only a half smile to everyone there before hiding behind her sisters. Cassian cuts a glance her way in solidarity, and it feels like a pillar of reinforcement against her wavering self. She scrambles around for a solid ten seconds for something to say, either to her sisters or to the whole group, and finally comes up with, “What are we having for dinner?”

“That’s still hours away,” Rhysand assures. “Everyone scram and put your shit up first.”

“The girl has a point,” Amren grumbles. “I’m starving.”

“Yeah, Rhys, can we have an early dinner?” Mor whines.

And just like that, Nesta has melted into the background again. Which might be for the best, considering how loud it is right now.

Feeling overwhelmed, Nesta checks on Feyre and Elain to make sure they’re not paying attention to her, and then meets Cassian’s gaze through all the luggage and bodies. Tilting her head toward the back door to let him know that she’s leaving, she silently slips down the hall and out of the house.

Outside in the gardens, the light breeze soothes her heightened senses. It’s hot as shit at this hour, but she’ll take it for the peace and quiet.

Only a few minutes into her getaway, however, Nesta hears the porch door open behind her. Her shoulders stiffen when she hears footsteps that don’t belong to Cassian. There goes her peace and quiet.

Nesta is surprised to find Amren slinking up to her side, her small head appearing at Nesta’s shoulder.

Discomfort crawls through Nesta’s bones at the woman’s unexpected presence. It’s a subtle sense of wrongness, like being in the proximity of a predator but not having enough information to guess how they’ll attack.

“Hiding out from Rhysie’s big bad inner circle?” Amren taunts.

Nesta stiffens. Just because it’s true doesn’t mean it needs to be thrown in her face.

“I suppose I can’t blame you,” she goes on. “We can be a scary group.”

“I’m not scared of anybody,” Nesta says, keeping her focus glued to the trees’ cherry blossoms. “I just wanted fresh air.”

“And I’ve wanted to find out what Cassian sees in you ever since he gave me that verbal lashing about being nice to his new girlfriend.” Amren turns to face Nesta fully, closing in. “What kind of pussy grip can a woman have to make Cassian of all men heel?” She hisses in a thoughtful breath through her teeth.

Nesta only shrugs, but her interest is piqued at the idea of Cassian warning Amren away from her. She definitely doesn’t need the protection, and once would have found it offensive, but… she likes the idea of someone standing up for her, being unapologetically on her side even if they have no good reason to do it. The only other times she can remember feeling defended were brief, subtle childhood instances with Feyre and Elain, and that was only because blood instinctively defends blood. It’s different to feel chosen. It makes her chest crack.

When Nesta doesn’t respond, Amren throws out, “Are you on the spectrum or what?”

Nesta again doesn’t reply.

“No one mentioned it, but I assumed as soon as I saw you.”

“It’s rude to make assumptions,” Nesta says, her voice cool as a running river.

Amren barks a laugh that sounds like a whip lashing. “I like you, girl.”

Nesta finally meets Amren’s silver gaze and states, “I don’t like you.” Her tone is blunt, to the point—but if she has to participate in this twisted version of small talk, then she should at least get to be honest.

Amren laughs aloud again, as if that genuinely amuses her. Nesta doesn’t know how amused Amren will be when she realizes that Nesta is serious.

She shrugs to herself, turning back to face the garden. It isn’t her problem, she decides.

***

“Even for you, this is overprotective.” Rhys’s voice comes from behind Cassian, who stands at the sliding glass door at the back of the kitchen that peers out onto the gardens. He’s been watching Amren converse with Nesta for the last seven minutes—or rather, he’s been watching Nesta, inspecting her body language to gauge her discomfort.

It was a struggle not to hold his arm across the back door and block Amren from following after Nesta earlier. Amren had the look of a cat going out to play with a new toy, and Cassian had nearly snarled at her for it until she gave him that expression: the raised brow and sneer that said Really, Cassian? Pathetic.

It made him think of how Nesta would feel if she knew he was trying to physically keep people away from her, and he managed to have enough shame to move aside and let Amren pass with only a warning look.

So far though, it looks like Nesta is handling herself just fine. He should’ve known better than to underestimate her.

When Rhys doesn’t get a response, he comes up to stand at Cassian’s side and get a look through the glass door. “I never thought you’d be applying your passion for security to your damn girlfriend.” Rhys lets out a low whistle.

Without taking his eyes off Nesta and Amren, Cassian tells Rhys, “Protecting her is protecting myself. When she gets hurt, I feel it twofold.” And he really doesn’t want to be hurt on this vacation. Nesta already thinks he’s a crybaby as it is.

Rhys is silent for a long minute, as if he can’t deny that he would feel the same way for his own girlfriend. Eventually he says, “I might finally understand what’s going on in your brain whenever you’re around her.”

Cassian only nods.

Rhysand claps his hand down suddenly on Cassian’s shoulder, breaking the somberness of his confession. “Call them in to help make dinner,” Rhys orders. “I want all hands on deck tonight.”

Cassian looks at his brother with narrowed eyes. “And what will you be doing to help?”

“I’ll be watching the game on the nice TV that I paid for, in the beautiful new living room I also paid for.”

“Bastard.”

***

Nesta and Azriel help prepare dinner in silence. Their quiet acknowledgment of each other is better than any words could be, but it’s all shattered when Mor dumps a serving platter on the counter right next to Azriel.

“Ooh, ricotta-stuffed mushrooms!” She grabs a handful and starts arranging them onto her platter. “Az, how was your mystery weekend away? I haven’t seen you since you got back.”

Azriel shares an unreadable glance with Nesta before sliding his chicken parmesan dish toward her and saying loudly, “Wow, is that football?” He promptly turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

Nesta glares after him in disbelief, but Azriel can’t hear her wordless cries for help because he’s already in the living room.

Left alone at the kitchen counter with Morrigan, Nesta keeps wiping at the wine glasses that have been gathering dust in the cupboards. From the corner of her eye, she can see that Mor’s mouth is tightened into a displeased line.

Not that Nesta isn’t grateful for it, but Mor usually isn’t one to keep her mouth shut. She wonders if something is wrong that she doesn’t know about. “You look constipated,” Nesta tells Mor under her breath. “Anything you want to get out?”

Mor only scoffs in indignation. Then she shakes her head and mutters to herself, “I promised not to say anything.”

Now Nesta is really intrigued. “Promised who?” she prods. “Cassian?”

“Like you don’t know about it.” Mor rolls her dark eyes.

Nesta doesn’t know, though after Amren’s comment earlier she might have a hint. “I would prefer you be honest with me rather than follow Cassian’s orders.”

“That’s funny, so do I.” Mor plucks up a stuffed mushroom and shoves it into her mouth.

Nesta thinks back to how she woke up to Cassian and Mor’s voices lowered in seriousness. After what Nesta overheard on New Year’s Eve, it’s no secret that Morrigan doesn’t care for her, but she suddenly has the urge to have it said to her face. “Well, if you want to stop holding back with me, I won’t tell.”

Morrigan sets down her mushroom platter with a thump, turning to face Nesta like she’s done her a personal wrong. “You know what I know about you, Nesta?” Mor says. “I know that Cassian has changed since he’s gotten with you. I know that he’s more serious whenever he’s around you. I know that you don’t love him as much as he loves you. How can Cassian expect me to trust someone that doesn’t want to be around his own family? How can he expect me to trust you with his heart? Not that I’m allowed to be saying any of this, because I’m supposed to be hiding my feelings about you to stop my best friend from hating me.”

It’s crazy how a year ago those words would have been enough to make Nesta retreat to her room and never come out again. Each statement pricks like a shard of glass against her skin, though none of them are accurate or true.

And yet Nesta finds herself hurting more for Cassian than for herself. She feels her familiar old mask go up around her face and harden there.

“It sounds like your problem is more with Cassian than it is with me,” Nesta says stoically. “Because I won’t be going through any trials to prove myself. I have nothing to prove. I don’t care if you like me or not, if you’re nice to my face or cruel behind my back—but it’s rude to shit over your friend’s life choices like that. He’ll stop trusting you if you keep it up, and it won’t be my fault when it happens,” Nesta finishes. She wordlessly gathers the wine glasses in her hands and abandons a silent Morrigan to go set the table.

Nesta knows the dynamic at dinner is off with her presence there.

For once, Cassian’s priorities lie somewhere other than laughing with his friends. He keeps a protective hand on Nesta’s thigh from the moment they take their seats, and he only removes it when he’s filling her plate with food.

With memories of Christmas dinner hanging over all of them, Cassian looks like a bodyguard prepared for attack— except he’s contributing to a good half of the tension at the table.

“How was the drive here?” Feyre pokes at the two of them in an attempt to break the ice. Nesta glances to Cassian for his response, but his attention is taken by the platter of bread rolls.

Sighing internally, Nesta answers, “Better than yours, that’s for sure.”

Everyone laughs hesitantly. A steaming bread roll then appears on Nesta’s plate, golden and fluffy with a buttery aroma; one glance at the rest of the bread tells her it was the biggest roll in the pile.

Nesta drops her walls enough to give Cassian a small smile and an arm rub of appreciation, and then she reaches straight for the bottle of wine.

She loves Cassian and hates this dinner too much to allow this to go on.

After filling Cassian’s empty glass high with Merlot, Nesta presses it into his free hand with a subtle kiss on his cheek. “Relax a little,” she murmurs into his ear.

It takes ten minutes and two full glasses for her plan to take effect, but relax Cassian does. Like oil slipping through rusted gears, the tension in the room slowly unwinds and natural conversation starts to flow.

“You guys will not believe what I had to walk in on this morning,” Mor announces at one point during the meal.

“Yeah, yeah, Cassian’s ass and dick, we’ve already heard,” Amren says.

Cassian’s glare at Mor is more lighthearted than life-threatening. “This is why I can’t talk to you anymore,” he states, pointing a finger at her. Nesta is so glad for the lack of tension in his shoulders that she doesn’t even care if everyone basically knows about her having sex in the living room.

With Cassian acting more like his normal self, the pressure to make useless small talk is no longer on her. Nesta is content to watch everybody share stories and laughter, but for once she doesn’t feel like an audience member on the outside looking in. Maybe it’s because no matter how much Cassian drinks, his hand stays steady on her leg the whole night, keeping her rooted there with everybody else. He doesn’t let her fade into the background for a second.

“What’s that on your wrist, Az?” Mor’s voice rings from one head of the table. Azriel snatches his hand back in a flash before Mor can reach for it. From his other side, Nesta grabs it smoothly out of the air to take a look at the cause of Mor’s question.

She raises her brow at the sight of three colorful bracelets lining Azriel’s right wrist.

Az tries to pull his hand away, but Nesta’s hold is tight. Even if the signature of the maker wasn’t stamped onto one of the childish bracelets, she would know who had made them with one glance.

“What does it say?” Mor asks her.

“Nothing. Just some beads.” Nesta pulls Azriel’s dark sleeve over the beads that spell out GWYN’S BITCH and gives his arm a little pat. She sincerely hopes Elain is thoroughly over Azriel by now.

“Was that Rainbow Loom I saw? Since when did you wear kiddy bracelets?” Mor snorts at Az.

Nesta’s attention is pulled away from their conversation by a heavy head falling onto her shoulder. “Nestaaa,” Cassian slurs, slumping against her side.

Blushing at the attention he’s drawing to her, Nesta tries to shove a drunk Cassian back upright. “I think we need to get you to bed.”

“Oh really? Promise you’ll tuck me in?” He tries to wink at her, but it comes off as a strained blink.

He looks ridiculous. It isn’t helping the blush on her cheeks, though.

“I promise.” Nesta shoves her finished plate aside and grabs Cassian by the bicep, standing up and attempting to drag him with her. “Come on, I’ll take you right now.”

Mor is quick to get to her feet. “We can take him,” she offers eagerly.

“Who’s we?” Azriel mutters. Nesta hears a hard stomp, and then Az is coughing, jumping out of his seat after Mor. “Yeah, we’ll take him,” he says.

Nesta reluctantly lets Cassian slip out of her grasp as Morrigan and Azriel take one of his arms from either side.

“Wait, but I want Nesta to tuck me in!” Cassian twists around as he’s dragged away, drunkenly finding Nesta’s gaze. He’s pouting.

Affection battles with secondhand embarrassment and wins. “I’ll be right there,” she promises with a wave. As soon as Mor and Azriel accomplish whatever it is they’re trying to accomplish. Her voice flattens into a cold warning when she adds after them, “Be careful with him.”

Daring a quick glance back at the table, Nesta wants to cringe when she meets everyone else’s eyes. Rhysand looks highly amused. Feyre looks disturbed, and Elain looks glum with envy, the love-obsessed bitch. Amren is Amren.

After dinner is over, dishes duty is handed over to Rhysand and Amren goes off to bed complaining about beauty sleep, which leaves Nesta alone with her sisters in the foyer.

She doesn’t quite know how, but she ends up forgetting her promise to Cassian and following the girls out to the front porch for some fresh air instead. The sun has long since set, taking some of the summer heat with it, but the air is still stuffy as the three of them settle down onto hand-painted wooden chairs. Lanterns on the porch are lit up to keep the darkness away, and the lake before them gleams with the reflection of the rising moon.

Feyre is the first to speak, her voice hesitant. “It’s hot out tonight, isn’t it?”

“I’m not doing this,” Elain announces. She stands abruptly from her chair and goes back inside.

Nesta and Feyre stare wide-eyed after the swinging front door, but a minute later Elain returns holding a decanter and three crystal glasses. She sets the glasses down on a side table and starts pouring. “It’s not really Tennessee without a strong whiskey,” she says to no one. “And I’m way too sober right now to handle this vacation.” The third glass gets an extra finger of liquor, and it ends up in Elain’s hand. She passes the other two to Nesta and Feyre before settling back into her seat.

Nesta grimaces at the drink in her hand without even tasting it. She hates most alcohol, but strong alcohol especially. For the sake of her sisters, however, she throws back half the glass without thinking.

Liquid fire scalds her tongue and throat, and she groans aloud. Instant regret.

Elain has no such issues downing her liquor. “Did you know,” she says after swallowing a gulp of whiskey like it’s apple juice, “that our old place is just a mile and a half that way?” She waves with her glass toward the back gardens.

“Is it really that close?” A frown wrinkles Feyre’s brow, like the memory of their old home might taint the perfect life she has now.

“Yes,” Nesta confirms. She doesn’t offer anything else.

Feyre shudders despite the temperature. “I hate even thinking about it. It’s so depressing. Reminds me of Papa.”

Which is also depressing, Nesta thinks to herself.

“It wasn’t depressing for me,” Elain says, chin tilted up in defiance.

That doesn’t surprise Nesta. Even in the depths of their father’s patheticness, he was Elain’s favorite man on earth.

Nesta used to wonder how her papa would have reacted if Elain was the one with crippling endometriosis pain every month instead of her. Would he have ignored her cries like he ignored Nesta’s, or would he have come running to her aid?

It’s not a question that’s worth Nesta’s time and energy, though. Not when the man himself has long been six feet under. Instead she pokes at Elain, “Then why did you hide your background from every guy you met like you were ashamed of it?”

“I was ashamed,” Elain says primly, “but that doesn’t mean I hated all of it. We didn’t all grow up with a ten foot stick up our ass; at least I could appreciate what we had without taking my attitude out on everybody else.”

The whiskey must be working quickly, because Nesta can’t hold back an unseemly snort. “There you go again,” she drawls in a cutting tone, pointing an accusing finger with the hand that holds her glass at Elain. “Dishing out shit when you can’t take it back. At least not without crying.”

Feyre, who was trying to hide her cringe with the rim of her drink, now perks up with eagerness. “She does do that, doesn’t she?” she exclaims. “I thought I was the only one who noticed.”

Elain’s lips twist into an indignant sneer. “What’s this dynamic now, why’s everyone ganging up on me?”

Nesta mutters, “Because you need to hear it every now and then.” Turning to Feyre, she adds, “God, she can be fucking annoying.”

“Oh, like you’re everyone’s favorite person to be around?” Elain scoffs.

“At least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. That’s called a con artist, Elain. You’re a con artist.”

There’s stunned silence for a tense moment—and it’s broken by full laughter. Elain is chuckling sweetly as she says, “Well, I suppose it’s okay if only you two are the ones who notice it. It can be our little secret.” She presses a finger to her pink lips.

Feyre giggles along at that too, but Nesta remains quiet. Too sober for the current mood, perhaps. “Do you think someone will notice at one point?” she asks Elain. “That the smiles and Southern charm and—the kindness...” She doesn’t know how to feel about that word in relation to Elain. “Do you think someone will notice that that’s not all there is to you?”

Elain’s grinning face freezes quicker than an actress’s. “No one will know,” she answers smoothly, “because I’m not going to be with anyone else for a while.”

At the confused silence filled only by the chirp of cicadas, Elain supplements, “I’m trying out the single life.”

Nesta meets Feyre’s eyes, and it only catalyzes the sound quelling up in her throat. At the same moment, the two sisters burst into cackling laughter. Well, Feyre cackles. Nesta makes a noise that imitates a dying whale.

“I’m serious,” Elain insists, glaring at them. “If Nesta could spend all those years living like a widowed hag, why can’t I? I don’t need men to live.”

Nesta’s laughter sours at the insult, and she turns to Elain with seriousness in her tone. “No one needs anyone else, Elain—but you treat loneliness like a leper from the Middle Ages. Are you even happy for me and Cassian beneath all that jealousy?”

Elain shifts uncomfortably in her chair and mutters, “Of course I’m happy for you two.” And then she adds in a much quieter voice, “Deep, deep down.”

“Is that what was wrong with you on New Year’s?” Feyre asks gently. “You were jealous?”

Nesta raises a brow; she didn’t know this.

“I wasn’t exactly having fun watching you two suck face right after getting dumped by Azriel,” Elain tells Nesta. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. I just…I’m not used to being the lonely one.” She huffs out a sigh and reaches for the decanter again. “If anyone should be in a happy and healthy relationship right now, it should be me.”

Feyre turns to Nesta and whispers too loudly, “You’re right, she is fucking annoying.”

“Don’t get too friendly; so are you.”

Feyre leans away from Nesta in affront. “I didn’t even do anything this time!”

“You don’t need to do anything for Nesta to think she’s better than us,” Elain chimes in.

The three of them break out into bickering, which soon devolves into hysterical laughter, which then morphs into a comfortable silence—which doesn’t last long until they’re bickering again. They spend the rest of the night going in small circles like that over their whiskey, occasionally taking breaks to talk of more serious things: Elain’s flower shop is finally starting to pick up business, but expenses are still too high. Nesta is worried about Cassian being all alone in Italy by himself, but she’ll never show it to him. Feyre’s work at the children’s art studio is making her seriously consider having kids (“Don’t you dare, you’re way too young,” Nesta threatens).

Each of them reveals that they miss at least one of their shitty parents these days.

Maybe it’s because they’re under the same night sky that they spent their childhoods under, but if Nesta closes her eyes, it’s like she’s seventeen again, letting her sisters stay up and talk her ear off even though it’s a weeknight.

***

The lack of Nesta in Cassian’s bed must stop him from succumbing to deep sleep, because his nap is hazy and doesn’t last more than a half hour. When he blinks awake, the fog of wine from earlier has mostly cleared away and the lamps in his room are lit. Mor sits on the bay window seat and Azriel lounges on a chair nearby, both of them murmuring quietly to each other.

Noticing Cassian’s movement, Az turns away from Mor and drawls, “That was quick.”

Groaning, Cassian rubs at his eyes and sits up straight. His shirt and jeans are flung on the floor, and he can only assume he took them off himself before collapsing into bed.

Holding the thin blanket to his chest, he demands, “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh, now he has modesty,” Mor grumbles.

Cassian grabs his wrinkled shirt from the floor and shrugs it on before repeating his question. “What are you doing here, and where’s Nesta?”

“Don’t know,” Az shrugs from his chair. “But Mor wanted us to talk alone, so Nesta probably doesn’t need to be here.”

Growing wary, Cassian straightens up against the headboard. “Talk about what?”

Mor’s words take him by surprise. “I wanted to apologize.” She straightens up in her seat and throws a cautious glance at Azriel. “And I wanted Az with me for moral support.”

Az rolls his eyes to himself, likely considering the task beneath him.

“I didn’t take your words that seriously this morning,” Mor goes on, “but I’m taking them seriously now. Someone made me realize that I’ve been blaming your—girlfriend... for our relationship changing when I’m the one who’s been pushing you away the whole time. While you were falling in love, I wasn’t there for you. I didn’t trust you to find love without my input, and I didn’t respect you when you did.” Tears line her dark eyes, taking Cassian aback. “I’m sorry,” she says weakly. “Please don’t hate me.”

A headache takes root in Cassian’s temples, and he has to shut his eyes against the dull thudding. “I could never hate you, Mor,” he says past the lump in his throat. That was never the problem, though her words have eased some of the pent up frustration in his chest.

Cassian lets out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s not just you. It’s every single one of us. We’ve known each other so long, we’re so fucking entangled in each other, that even when I’m living by myself up in my cabin I feel like I can’t get away from it.” He stares out the window like he might find some relief there. “That’s why I’m going overseas. To get some space from all of this.” He waves between the three of them and laughs bitterly. “We created this incestuous little circle and now we don’t know how to care about anyone outside of it.”

He catches Az frowning, fingers toying with one of the bracelets on his wrist that Cassian spied earlier.

Mor sniffs away a lingering tear. “What about Nesta, then? Where does she factor in?”

Cassian’s mouth turns down in a distasteful frown. He still doesn’t like that he has to leave without her, but the fact that he doesn’t like it is only more proof that he needs to do it. “I can’t let Nesta be a part of me,” he answers. “I need to be all of me.”

Only once he learns how to do that can he be the friend and lover that the people in his life deserve.

***

Nesta wakes up the next dawn not on a hard chair, but in a soft bed. The smell of Cassian lingers on the sheets wrapped around her, and she blinks blearily as she tries to remember the events of last night.

Feyre fell asleep first. Elain and Nesta were just going to close their eyes for a moment and take a brief rest as well, but the next thing Nesta knew Cassian was helping her take out her contacts and laying her head against a pillow. Now the sun is dawning and she has a pounding headache. She needs at least another ten hours of sleep before she’ll be fit to face the world again.

She looks around for her phone to check the time and spots it plugged into the charger on the bedside table. Despite feeling like she’s been rammed with the flu, the tiniest smile lifts Nesta’s lips at the thought of Cassian carrying her to bed and making sure to charge her phone.

She finds her lockscreen blown up with notifications, all from her shared groupchat with Gwyn and Emerie.

Clicking into her texts, Nesta scrolls back through the hundreds of messages to see what she missed.

Emerie: i can’t believe nesta isn’t here for this.

Emerie: what the hell is she doing

Gwyn: probably hanging out with her best friends the inner circle

Gwyn: or getting railed

Emerie: >:(

A tired laugh escapes Nesta as she reads the texts, and she’s grateful for the reminder that these are her chosen friends. This is her found family, and she’ll be back with them soon.

Scrolling a little further back, Nesta finds the cause of all the commotion.

Emerie: A RACCOON JUST FELL THROUGH MY CEILING IM GONMA DUE &%!@

Emerie: DIE

Followed by multiple pictures of a scarily large raccoon chewing up Emerie’s bed.

Nesta shudders at the images. Reminding herself to message the girls back as soon as she has her head on straight, she puts away the phone and drags herself out of bed.

Her knees wobble a little as she stands upright and slips her glasses on, but her body keeps moving automatically toward the door. It’s not until she’s halfway downstairs that she realizes she’s looking for Cassian.

In the main hall that cuts through the house, Nesta glances between the back door and the front door. Instinct tugs her toward the front door, and as she passes the living room she spies Elain knocked out on the couch.

One of her legs dangle off the edge of the cushion and she still has her shoes on, like she dragged herself up onto the loveseat in the middle of the night and fell straight asleep.

Cassian brought Nesta up to their room sometime during the night, and Rhysand would have done the same for Feyre, but Elain… Elain has no one to carry her to her room, Nesta realizes.

Hating the unusual feeling of pity that blooms inside of her, Nesta goes over and grabs a throw blanket from nearby. She flings it haphazardly over Elain’s body. There, that should do it.

She might take a few seconds to tuck the blanket in a little better, but then she’s out the front door and jogging down the porch steps. Early morning dew beads the grass, and the sun isn’t high enough in the sky yet for the heat to be unbearable.

Like perfect timing, Cassian’s form appears from the lightly wooded running trail that circles the lake. He has his hair tied up and is wearing nothing but workout shorts, and even from this distance Nesta can see the sweat gleaming off his hardened chest.

She forgets about her headache and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol coating her tongue. Her feet speed up on the grass, and then Cassian takes sight of her too. He grins wide and breaks into a run toward her.

When they’re mere feet away from each other, Nesta is the one to halt first and hold out a hand, blocking Cassian’s incoming bear hug. “Don’t you dare.” She eyes his body with a warning look. Nesta will do a lot of things for her boyfriend, but sticking her face into his sweaty pits is not one of them.

Cassian looks her up and down with scrutiny, trying to decide if going in for the hug anyway is worth it. “Fine,” he gives in. He spins on his heel and walks down to the head of the pier, where a standing shower is set up for washing off after swims in the lake.

Twisting the faucet, Cassian stands under the cold burst of water and gives Nesta a look that says, Happy now?

Nesta cautiously goes over to where Cassian stands, but she gets too close—

In a blink, she’s being tugged under the shower stream, held tight to Cassian’s chest.

“Cassian!” Nesta splutters, trying to pull away. Droplets hit her glasses and blur her vision, and she has to shove the glasses up into her hair so she can properly glare at Cassian’s face.

He only laughs deeply and tugs her closer. “Like you don’t smell either. You’ve been in that dress since yesterday.”

Nesta catches her breath under the pouring water, glancing down at her soaked sundress. Right; she probably needs this more than he does.

The water isn’t freezing like she expected, she realizes as she relaxes in Cassian’s arms. It’s actually the perfect temperature, almost soothing after the initial shock to her senses.

Broad hands stroke long lines across her arms, like Cassian is making sure that she isn’t uncomfortable. The action triggers an old memory inside Nesta—or rather, an old familiar feeling. The feeling of Cassian in Nesta’s early days of knowing him, always pushing her out of her comfort zone but never tossing her in the deep end to drown.

“I handled my sisters and your friends pretty well the other night, don’t you think?” she murmurs into his chest.

Cassian looks down at her with pure reverence in his eyes. “I can’t be surprised. You’ve always been like that.”

“Like what?”

“Brave as hell. From the minute you stepped outside of the little circle you’d drawn around your life, you became the bravest person I know.”

“Not true,” Nesta states matter-of-factly. “I can name at least three braver people.”

Cassian pokes her in the ribs, but his smile is good natured. “It’s just an expression, Nes. Take the compliment.”

The shower keeps spraying around them, refracting the sunlight to scatter rainbows across Nesta’s vision. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she tells Cassian earnestly. “I did the bulk of the hard work, but you…you gave me that first push. You taught me I could find safety in others, because you were my first real friend.”

Her words clearly take Cassian by surprise. Maybe it’s because Nesta is so rarely open about her true feelings, so her words have more value when she is. Maybe Cassian just wasn’t expecting to get so much credit, which is why he blinks rapidly now. “And what now?” he tries to tease, emotion tangled in his throat. “You have better friends?”

“Much better,” Nesta plays along, but her gaze carries all her sincerity. She suddenly laughs to herself, remembering: “I was terrible at socializing.”

It’s something she brushes off easily now, but few people will ever know that part of her inability to get close to others stemmed from a debilitating fear of rejection.

“Not to me.” Cassian reaches out to twist the faucet off, leaving the two of them standing soaked in the morning air. “I loved talking to you. I couldn’t stop wanting to talk to you, even if you didn’t feel like talking back.” That was how insistent he’d been on becoming her friend, that he would open up to her even when she was closed off to him.

Nesta watches Cassian tug his hair tie off, a little dazed by how much she feels for him in this moment. She isn’t ready for when he scrubs a hand vigorously through his loose hair, shaking the dripping strands out like a dog.

“Cassian!” Nesta scolds for the second time this morning. She flinches back at the water droplets hitting her eyes, making Cassian laugh when he looks back up at her. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. To make up for the assault, he delicately plucks her glasses off the top of her head and uses the hem of her wet dress to wipe off the lenses as best he can.

He slides the glasses back onto her face and nods, inspecting her. “That’s better.” Then he swoops down to kiss the mole beside her mouth.

Nesta wrinkles her nose in surprise. “What’s that for?”

“It’s a thank you,” he says. “Thank you for your car breaking down in the middle of the woods, and for agreeing to spend the night at my place last September.”

Nesta’s brows raise high in amusement. “Shouldn’t you be thanking Feyre? For calling in that favor with you?”

“One day, I’ll do that too,” he promises.

Nesta bites down on a smile and shakes her head, muttering, “Ridiculous.” Yet she can’t help but wonder: who would she thank?

The universe, probably. Whatever forces made it possible for her to wake up every day in the same bed as Cassian, eating the food he cooks and accepting the unconditional love he offers.

She suddenly shivers under the rising sun, becoming aware of how just uncomfortably her sundress clings to her body. Without Cassian’s words distracting her, everything is damp and cold.

Cassian notices and slips his hand into Nesta’s, already starting to pull her away from the pier and toward the house. “Let’s get you dry,” he says. “I’ll make us pancakes before everyone else wakes up.”

“With chocolate chips?”

“With chocolate chips.”

So hand in hand, the two of them walk back up to Cherrywood House.

***

a/n: IM FREE OF THIS BEAST. that ending was absolutely horrible to write, but i hope it satisfied you anyway. and if didnt, well, that’s what the epilogue is for

tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @arinbelle @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

[unwrittenlibrary]

all this devotion is rushing out of me

summary // Bucky Barnes is beautiful. No ifs, ands or buts. But there was something exceptionally beautiful about him that you were desperate to see. (bucky x fem!reader)

or; bucky barnes blushing is reader’s kryptonite and all she wants is to see it.

words // 2.0K

warnings // (hi there is a brief brief allusion to a breeding kink in this but i don’t write smut so it’s nothing graphic) mentions of pregnancy & sex 

notes // my second b.b fic also originally posted on my ao3 happy reading! i have more in the works! 

Bucky Barnes is beautiful. There’s no doubt about that in your mind.

From his newly cropped hair to the smile lines forming around his eyes. Down to the stunning metal arm and god his thighs.

Bucky Barnes is beautiful.

But your favorite part, the thing of his that you find most beautiful, are his flushed cheeks and embarrassed smiles.

The way he turns red from the tip of his ears to the apple of his cheeks and turns his eyes away with a small, embarrassed smile always makes your stomach flutter. It was so beautiful and rare that when it did happen, you just wanted to bring it back.

So while visiting Sam and Sarah, Mission Blushing Barnes, was born in your mind. You didn’t really want to embarrass him, far from it, so you knew you didn’t want to do anything in front of Sam or any of Sam’s family. But, fuck, watching him play with the boys and make himself at home with the Wilson’s had something growing in your chest.

And you wanted to see him blush. If only to end the day on a high note. So you waited and waited. Until finally, it was you and him sitting on the edge of the dock talking about nothing.

“Louisiana’s nice, isn’t it?” He asks quietly as he watches the sun set. You nod but don’t respond, too busy admiring his side profile.

The slope of his nose and outline of his lips has your mind jumping for joy that he’s yours. That he’s the man you get to wake up to and comfort. You smile when he turns to look at you, bemused by your silence. “What’s up, doll?”

You reach out to place a hand on his cheek. “Just admiring you. So pretty.” You keep your eyes focused on his face, expecting a blush at the term pretty instead of handsome. All that comes though is a snort. You drop your hand with a frown.

Bucky rests a hand on your waist and drags you closer to him. “Gotta do better than that, doll. You’ve been calling me pretty for months now. I’m used to it.”

You open your mouth in faux shock. “I have no idea what you mean.” You say in a pitched voice as you rest your head against his shoulder.

Bucky shakes with laughter. “I know you like making me blush. Gives you some sick power high.” He mumbles the words into your hair as he gives you a kiss.

You smile. You know there’s no menace behind his words. You can tell from his relaxed body language and quiet tone of voice your little mission doesn’t bother him all that much.

“Is that a challenge, Sergeant Barnes?” You glance up and Bucky looks down at you exasperated. For a moment, you think the red will appear and you’ll have won a bet before it’s even begun. But…

A smirk slides onto his face, something cocky and bright, that makes your stomach clench excitedly. “Calling me sergeant outside the bedroom isn’t gonna make me blush, sweetheart.”

You laugh softly and Bucky presses another kiss to your hair. “What do I win if you can’t make me blush by the end of the night?” He asks after a moment of silence.

You purse your lips and think for a moment. “What do you want?” You ask when nothing comes to mind. “Because I know when I win, you’ll be worshipping me.”

“I do that anyways.” He says immediately, making you laugh.

“I mean… I’ll be in charge.” You clarify with a raised eyebrow. Bucky bites down his lip to stop a smile and you hope that the blush appears just from the mention of you taking over for the night.

He shakes his head. “And if I win, you wear that suit Sam made you.” You watch as his eyes flicker over you body, definitely imagining the skin tight suit Sam had made as a joke after your complaints of how fictional heroes dressed. You had laughed and Sam had given you the real suit moments later, the skin tight suit had been stuffed into your closet and all but completely forgotten. 

“Sounds like a bet to me.” You pull back from his shoulder and hold your pinky out. “How about it, Barnes?”

Bucky leans down so his forehead rests against yours and with a wide smile he interlocks your pinky with his. “You’re on, sweetheart.”

The two of you just look at each other for a moment, until Sam’s voice breaks the comfortable silence. “Hey, weirdos! Come on, Sarah’s pulling out dessert!”

You scrunch your nose before hopping up. You don’t bother to pull Bucky with you, knowing his strength alone would probably end up sending you into the water. “Come on, baby, maybe we can steal some whip cream.” You wink as you walk backwards.

Bucky only laughs loudly and follows you. He reaches a hand out to stop you from walking off the dock and forces you spin around. “Strike one.” He whispers into your ear before running ahead of you to meet Sam.

You roll your eyes. Strikes weren’t a part of the bet and he knew it. He just wanted to psych you out. But you knew you could get that man to blush, you just had to find new material.

And you tried.

Leaning over when Sarah handed the ice cream and whispering as quietly as possible so only he could hear. “Forget the whip cream, ice cream might be a better bet.” Bucky looked down and shook his head before taking a bite of your chocolate.

Running your hand down his metal arm as you walked back to the Wilson’s. “Wonder what this arm could do to me.” Bucky had just looked down at you disappointedly. “You already know.” He hadn’t turned red, but you felt a little hotter.

You had even brought up the idea of sneaking in some adult time after the house was asleep. That had just gotten you a shocked stare as he pointed out the kids who slept upstairs.

It was getting late and you were getting desperate. It’s not that you really cared if you won or not, you know if there was something you truly wanted to try that Bucky wanted to as well, you would. You didn’t even mind the idea of wearing the suit for Bucky. The thought of wearing it even if you won had crossed your mind. You really just wanted to see his pretty face all red.

Then, the perfect thing happened. The kids were excited to mess around with Sam and Bucky. Both men were equally as excited to show off the shield and metal arm.

You hadn’t even started watching to find something to make Bucky blush, his bright smile and excited laughter as he and Sam pretended to fall to the boys power is what made you think.

Bucky wanted his own family. You knew for awhile Steve had been part of his family and when he come out of HYDRA, Steve was all that was left of it. He had you and he had the Wilson’s. But the two of you had spoken at length about your future and plans for your own family together. He was going on less and less missions and you had a steady job, so starting a family now made sense.

And you knew how you could bring it up and make him blush. It was an obvious win-win situation. 

“Buck!” You call out. His attention is immediately turned on you as he stands up straight and finds your eyes. You wave him over and laugh as the boys tease him about being in trouble.

You’re standing on the back stairs and end up being a step above him when he comes to a stop in front of you. His hands come to rest on your waist naturally as he looks up at you.

“What’s up, doll? Not in trouble, right?” He smirks and takes a step closer.

This time, you match his smirk with your own. You rest a hand on his shoulder and one on the back of his neck. “Not at all, Buck. Just wanted to tell you something.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughs gently. “You panicking? Cause I’m gonna win this bet?”

You hum in response and bend so you’re at eye level with him. “Was just thinking of how good you look with kids. I think you’ll make a great dad one day.”

The cockiness is wiped from Bucky’s face and replaced with a look much softer. “You think?” He asks quietly.

You nod excitedly. “Of course. I think you’ll make an amazing dad. I can’t wait to start a family with you.” You take a step down, so now you have to look up at Bucky. His eyes follow you happily. “In fact, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You pause and Bucky furrows his eyebrows. You can tell he’s a little confused on where you’re going and that now he’s not even thinking about your silly little bet. Then you smile. “All I’ve been thinking about all day is you putting a baby in me, Bucky Barnes. I want it so bad.” You say the words softly as you flutter your lashes and smile alluringly.

Bucky’s eyes widen and he takes a shocked step back before looking down at you. Then you see it, starting from the tips of his ears and spreading over his cheeks. Bucky Barnes turns redder than you’ve ever seen.

“You…” He stutters as he looks around, like he wants to make sure that nobody heard the words that have just come out of your mouth. “Evil woman.”

You take a step forward to press a kiss to his lips. You can tell by his embarrassed smile that he can feel the flush on his cheeks. “Guess I get to be in charge when we get home.” You take a step back and turn to head back inside.

You feel a hand grip your own and look back at him. “Are you serious? About wanting a baby?” He asks almost shyly, like he’s worried the answer might be no.

You can’t even allow him to entertain possibility. You nod quickly and excitedly. “Of course I was, my love. I wouldn’t pull that out just to win some silly bet.” He lets go of your hand and an excited smile spreads across both your faces.

“Yeah? Gonna let me put a baby in you?” He asks, this time more excitement than embarrassment seeping into his tone and taking over his face. He moves to wrap his arms around your waist and you do the same.

“Yeah. I just might.” You scrunch your nose up at him and he does the same in return. “Might even wear the suit for you anyways, since you’ll be doing me such a favor.” You wink and Bucky laughs again. The two of you have gotten the attention of Sam and his nephews, but you’re sure they can't hear anything you’re saying.

“Think it’s you doing the favor.” Bucky leans in close and lowers his voice. “Having my baby. I know you’ll look beautiful. Fuck. I’m about to get us a flight home tomorrow.”

You feel heat on the back of your neck and butterflies in your stomach as you process Bucky’s words. “Gonna build our own little family, Barnes. Better get ready.” You laugh giddily as you lean forward to rest your forehead against his.

Bucky closes the small gap between you with a hard kiss. You press your body against his as he holds you tighter. The two of you are completely unaware of Sam’s shocked face or his hands rushing to cover the two children’s eyes.

“Gross!” He yells out and the two of you spring apart with embarrassed smiles. Bucky’s cheeks turn red again and that only makes you want to kiss him more. “That’s gross. There are kids here. And me. Nobody wants to see that.”

Bucky presses a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling away entirely. “I’ll see you later?” He asks as you begin to head back inside.

You nod with a mischievous smile. “I’m gonna go look at flights. I’m ready to be home with you, Sergeant Barnes.”

You laugh when a light blush graces his face again before he spins around and rushes back over to Sam and the boys. Sam punches him on shoulder and you can see the beginnings of a lecture, so you turn and rush up the stairs and head inside.

You rest a hand on your stomach. You’re unsure if it’s to quell the excited butterflies or because of your new plan to have a baby, but either way it makes you smile as you think.

Bucky Barnes was pretty when he blushed. Even prettier when it was the thought of having a baby with you that made him do it.

You would have fun with this.

-

notes // try and tell me the idea of only u being able to make bucky blush doesn’t make u warm inside u CAN’T! 

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭 (𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚! 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨) 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙼𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊! 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣) × 𝙼𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝙼𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊 𝙰𝚄

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3.8K

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚓𝚘𝚋, 𝚐𝚞𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡 (𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜) 𝙳𝚘𝚖! 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 × 𝚂𝚞𝚋! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @little-precious-baby @yunhoiseyecandy @galaxteez @yunhofingers @brie02 @deja-vux @multidreams-and-desires @rvse-miingi

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Swerving into the sidewalk, the female took less than 5 seconds to fit herself into the passenger seat and slam the door behind her. Stepping on the accelerator, her partner's eyes looked firmly forward as he maneuvered himself through the alleys to safely get them out of the city without having to use the main highways. Once making sure no one was following them, they both breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful that the mission had run smoothly.

"Got it?" The male asked.

Reaching into her cleavage, she took out a folded piece of paper and held it in front of him, the male slightly cringing when he saw where it had came from.

"Like taking candy from a baby." She snorted before stuffing the piece of paper in the glove compartment.

As if on cue, the small screen on the dashboard began blinking, letting them know someone was trying to contact them. Pressing the answer button, the driver looked momentarily to see the face of their leader pop up.

"Tell me neither of you got your limbs torn off." He voiced his concern.

"We're on our way back already, give us an hour and we'll be there."

Satisfied at the success of the mission, the platinum blonde male looked over at the woman who simply had her arms crossed over her chest, staring daggers at him.

"Thank you for your sacrifice Y/N." He smiled at her.

"Oh shove it up your ass Hongjoong. It was embarrassing enough to dress like a whore let alone have some middle aged man grope my body. I would rather be bored to death walting in a car like Yunho did." She was fuming, still disgusted at the ordeal she had to go through, even her partner grimaced slightly when he thought about what she had to go through.

"But it was a success right? Thanks to the fast acting sedative Yeosang gave you." Hongjoong tried to reason with her.

"Whatever, as long as she doesn't have to do those dirty jobs again I think we're fine." Yunho piped up, unconsciously gripping the steering wheel a little too tight.

Hongjoong held back a smirk threatening to form across his lips.

"All right then. I expect you both here very soon."

With the screen going black, the pair just sat there in silence, one focused on the road while the other opted for looking out the window, having no other amusement besides the endless trees surrounding their path.

"Why even would you care about me doing jobs like this?"

Yunho was not expecting her to talk let alone ask a question like that out a nowhere.

"What do you mean?"

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"You know exactly what I mean. What you said to Hongjoong before, why should you care about me having to do these kinds of jobs?"

Yunho stayed quiet, pondering over his next words.

"I just....working so long with you I naturally feel an attract- a concern!...over your well being." He quickly corrected himself.

"I just think you're too talented and too good at your job to have to sink down that low just because Hongjoong wants to use the easy way."

Y/N had an amused look on her face as she listened intently to Yunho's words. Scanning him all over, she wasn't going to lie she found him extremely good looking and she'd be lying if she hadn't thought about fucking him more than once. She had often heard the snickers and teasing San and Wooyoung often directed at him too and she was more than curious to find out whether the rumors were true or not.

"You know what I think Yuyu?"

The way he suddenly straightened up and swallowed hard at the nickname did not go unnoticed by her. Taking off her seatbelt, she leaned over to him, her breath ghosting over his ear.

"I think you're jealous." She giggled when he moved his face away from her proximity.

"Why would I be jealous?" He cleared his throat, keeping a straight poker face one.

With a sly smile, Y/N began unbuttoning the top of his shirt.

"Cause some rival actually got to do what you wish you could do but are too scared to."

Yunho inhaled deeply when he felt her nose pressed up against his neck, lips dragging themselves up his jaw.

"And what exactly would that be?" Although he seemed nonchalant about her behavior, truth was he desperately wanted to know just how far the dirty bastard had gotten with his gorgeous partner.

"Oh you know the usual..... a kiss, with tongue involved." As she said that she made sure to lick the shell of his ear.

"A hand in between someone's legs, cupping a certain member."

Yunho let out a groan when he felt her hand squeeze at his growing erection, palming him through his trousers.

"Or fingers sliding up thighs and inside a little black dress."

Yunho's eyes widened significantly at her description.

"How far did they go?" His knuckles were turning white from how hard he was gripping the wheel.

"That's not important-"

"How far did he go?" The sudden raise in his voice startled her slightly, but it also meant that perhaps her plan was working.

"If you really must know.....he got 2 fingers in before passing out cold."

Y/N could see a tiny vein poking out from the side of his neck, telltale sign that he was really trying hard to not loose his temper. Looking away from her, she heard him mutter a soft 'damn him' before turning his eyes back on the road. Wanting to further anger him, she decided to throw in a little lie in her story.

"Had to readjust my dress after he was knocked out and wipe some of the spit off my chest."

Yunho's reaction was instant as he gripped her hand that up to now had still been groping at his cock, crushing her fingers in his palm.

"What do you mean wipe spit off? He saw your chest?" His pale complexion was suddenly turning a light pinkish and red shade.

"Saw, kissed, licked, bit the girls, you get the gist."

Releasing his harsh grip on her hand, Yunho took a deep breath, trying to remain calm but no longer being able to hold himself back from doing something he had been wanting to do for a long time.

"Take off your panties and spread your legs for me." He suddenly ordered her.

Y/N was so taken aback by his instructions that she looked at him as if he was crazy.

"What?"

Rolling his eyes, Yunho repeated himself.

"Take off your panties and spread your legs for me."

Turning on the cruise control on the car, Yunho looked over at Y/N, eyes burning with anger.

"Don't fucking make me repeat myself."

Y/N wanted to laugh at how silly he sounded, which he noticed how she held back a snort and he did not appreciate it.

"What if I don't want to?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I didn't ask what you wanted, I gave you an order."

Wanting to further test him, Y/N smirked.

"Why don't you make me?"

"Gladly."

She shuddered when she heard the sound of a gun cocking and then gulped when Yunho held it right in front of her face.

"Now babygirl....let's try this again. Those panties, off." He said as he pointed the gun down at her legs.

Reaching into her dress, Y/N peeled her underwear down her legs, embarrassed about the wet patch that was in between them caused by her teasing on her partner. Looking over, Yunho chuckled when it did not go unnoticed by him. With one hand still on the steering wheel, he used the hand that held the gun and dragged it across her thigh in slow, circular motions.

"Spread those pretty legs for me now."

Tapping the inside of her thigh, the corners of his lip curled when he heard her shift in her seat, signaling that she was obeying him. Taking a peek, he was not satisfied with the results.

"Spread them out as far as your able to baby, and lift up that dress of yours. Let me see how wet your little cunt is." The gun he held was already lifting part of her dress up.

Sitting up, Y/N lifted her dress up to her waist before spreading her legs out, feeling the cool air breeze at her glistening folds. Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, Yunho admired the beautiful picture sitting next to him, all pliant and awaiting further instructions.

"Fuck you have a really pretty pussy."

Y/N bit down on her lip when she felt the barrel of his gun press against her clit before dragging her her folds, collecting much of her already formed arousal.

"What if I just shoved it inside that filthy hole of yours? Fuck you with my gun? You'd probably like that wouldn't you?"

Y/N gasped when she felt the gun poke at her entrance, her walls already tightening themselves. But instead Yunho simply pulled the gun back, bringing it up to his face before licking off the juices left over. Y/N couldn't keep her mouth from falling open slightly as she watched him practically eat up her slick. Setting the gun down on one of the cup holders, Yunho snaked his hand in between her legs, thumb pressing against her nub which had her inhaling sharply.

"Such a sensitive little one....and so responsive."

His thumb began to draw circles around her clit, flicking against it occasionally. Y/N couldn't understand how he could still be focused on maneuvering the wheel without getting distracted or being lazy with the movements on her mound. The way his thumb worked her clit was so precise, so skilled, as if he knew exact what to do to get her more and more worked up with each brush of his thumb. When he moved his thumb away it was only so he could slide one of his long and slender fingers inside her.

"Oh fuck." Y/N's hands gripped at the arm rest as she felt his finger reach so deep in her.

"What never had something this long in you before?" He snickered amusedly.

Slowly, he pumped his finger in and out the her, loving the way her walls seemed to suck him back in whenever he pulled out. Y/N decided to close her eyes and just enjoy as her longtime partner invaded her most intimate part, first with one finger which was soon joined by a second one, further stretching her out.

"So warm...." Yunho mused while curling his fingers upwards.

"That feels so good."

Yunho felt proud of himself as he heard her say that, ego boosted further by the tiny sighs her nose breathed out.

"Yeah? You like my fingers inside you baby? Like having them inside your tight pussy?"

Y/N moaned in response when he began thrusting his fingers with more force, sloppy sounds being heard throughout the car due to how wet she was. Her thighs began to close around his hand, which resulted in Yunho slipping his fingers out before landing a harsh slap on her clit that had her nearly jumping in her seat.

"Keep those legs open for me you slut. After all, that's all you're good at."

If it had been anybody else, she would have slapped them for saying that. But something about Yunho actually had her nearly cumming at his words. Spreading her legs once again, she welcomed his fingers once more, bottom lip caught in between her teeth.

"You said he got 2 fingers in? Tsk. Pathetic. I bet I can top that."

Y/N's mouth dropped open into a perfect oval shape as Yunho stuffed yet a third finger in her, momentarily slowing his pace down so he could brush the tips of his fingers against the roof of her walls. He knew he found what he was looking for when she let out a particularly loud moan and her legs shook.

"Found you."

Y/N began writhing in her seat as Yunho jammed his fingers in and out of her at a rapid pace, his tips always making sure to brush at her g-spot. Yunho had a smug grin throughout the whole time, every 5 seconds or so he looked back to watch Y/N's blushed face as his hand fucked her.

"If you're already this worked up about just my fingers, I can't wait to see what you'll be like when I'm fucking you balls deep."

Y/N whipped her head at him after he said that, her incredulous eyes meeting his haughty ones.

"Yes Y/N, this is merely a prep to get you ready for my cock. I need you stretched open so you can fit my massive cock inside that tiny pussy of yours."

Y/N threw her head back as she began picturing getting fucked by his cock.

"Oh my- oh my God! Fuck!"

Yunho's speed never slowed down even after he felt her cum all over his fingers, wanting her to keep the high for as long as possible. He wanted to make sure he managed to get her to spill out as much as possible. Only until he felt her come down from her high did he remove his fingers from inside her. Holding them up to her lips, his thumb grazed her bottom lip.

"Taste yourself baby."

Her mouth opened and enveloped his fingers inside it. She hummed against his fingers as she sucked off her juices off them. Yunho didn't pull them out of her mouth until he was sure she had licked them clean. Wiping himself off on his pants, he then undid his zipper and began pulling himself out of his tight confinement.

"Be a good girl and suck me off baby. Put that pretty mouth of yours to work."

Seeing him whip out his massive length had her drooling over it. It was the biggest cock she had ever seen in her life and she couldn't believe that she'd actually have that in her soon, no doubt destroying and rearranging her insides. As she kept staring at it, she was smacked out of her trance when Yunho harshly yanked her down by her hair and pressed her face against his dick.

"Are you already too dumb to obey a simple order from just getting fingered? Or from seeing my huge cock?"

With his grip still on her hair, Yunho guided her so her nose brushed all around his length, making her sniff him which she gladly did.

"If you're really that much of a cockslut then you should have no problem sucking me off. Now get to it."

Opening her mouth, Y/N first took his thick head in her mouth, giving his slit a little dig with her tongue which made Yunho groan. Being in the mood for teasing him, she kept only his head in her mouth for the meantime, sometimes pulling off to give his slit sweet kitten licks before slurping around it once more, making sure to moan as dramatically as she could.

Knowing what her game was, Yunho wasn't having any of it.

"I know you can do a lot better than that you slut. Or did you forget how to suck dick?"

Putting one hand on the back of her head, he smoothed out her hair, petting and stroking her head in such a caring and tender way, all while having a sadistic look plastered on.

"It's ok, let me remind you."

Y/N gagged as she felt Yunho push her down his length, her nose hitting against his pubic bone. He held her there for a few seconds before pulling her back up from her hair. Letting her gasp for air first, Yunho fisted some more of her hair in his fingers before shoving her back down his length. His hips would often come up to stuff more of his length down her throat. Her mouth was so warm and he loved hearing her choke around his cock. Y/N hollowed her cheeks out as much as possible, sucking as much as Yunho as she could without gagging too much. The car was filled with her slurping and gagging sounds, and whenever Yunho would look down to see the mess she was it only fueled the feeling that was brewing in his lower stomach.

"Shit! You're going to make me cum- cum inside your mouth."

Yunho tried so hard to focus on not swerving out of the lane. He was thankful it was a deserted road that hardly anyone used, otherwise he would never have gotten away with face fucking Y/N as he drove. Hearing him finally start spewing out lewd sounds from his mouth had made Y/N proud. Sloppily, she kept deepthroating him, letting his head hit the back of her mouth as her hand reached over to cup his balls, massaging them in her palms.

Yunho began frantically bucking his hips up.

"Shit! I'm going to cum- Oh fuck!."

Swiftly pulling her off him, she had saliva trickling down her chin, lips swollen and red after making her practically swallow him whole. Y/N was confused when Yunho suddenly got off the road and parked the car. Struggling to take off his seatbelt, Yunho turned his attention to her.

"Backseat."

Getting the hint, Y/N got out of the car, pulling the rest of her dress over her head in the process. Opening the door, she quickly climbed into the backseat where seconds after Yunho joined her. He practically slammed the door behind him. Pulling his pants further down, he began pumping himself, spreading more of his precum around his shaft.

"Get on top of me."

Not needing to be told twice, Y/N climbed on top with his lap, a little too earnestly given how she hit her head on the roof of the car.

"Watch your head." He teased her.

"Fuck off." She hissed as she rubbed her head.

Holding her hips, Yunho lifted her up and then sunk her down onto his length. Y/N shuddered then stood still as his enormous length ripped right through her, stretching her far beyond anything she ever felt.

"I'd rather fuck you if you don't mind."

Y/N couldn't contain her whimpers and shrieks as Yunho slammed his hips into her, fingers digging into her ass to hold her down on his lap. Her hands held onto the top of the seats to keep herself from bouncing too much and accidentally hitting her head again. She cried out harder when Yunho angled his hips so he'd hit at her g-spot over and over again. Their heavy panting and breathing, mixed with the steam and sweat their bodies were producing was staring to make the windows fog up.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to fuck you."

Y/N gasped when one of his hands came up to wrap itself around her neck, not pressing down at it but it made her shiver in anticipation at what he was going to do.

"Seeing you parade yourself in such short skirts during meetings, bending down and having everybody stare at your ass or tits-"

Letting out an animalistic growl, Yunho's hand gripped her jaw tightly, squishing her cheeks together to the point of hurting.

"Made me want to bend you over the table and spank your ass red before fucking it in front of everyone."

Releasing her jaw, his hand once more went to her neck, except now he gripped it tightly, cutting off part of her oxygen intake. Yunho grunted as he felt her walls compress around his length. Leaning his head to her chest, he began to suck and bite all across her breasts and sternum, not satisfied until he was sure to leave purple marks on it. Yunho continued to bounce her on his cock, loving the way her eyes shut tightly and her mouth stayed agape and poured out such sinful sounds. Because of his hand on her neck, she tried to warn him that she was about to cum but instead gibberish came out.

He understood though what she was trying to say.

"Awww is my little slut going to cum so soon? How desperate and needy were you that you're about to burst anytime now?"

Y/N began tearing up at his words and the endless strokes of his head hitting so deep in her.

"Or do you just love my monster cock that much?"

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she began quivering on top of him.

"Fuck! Yes- love your monster- oh god!"

Feeling her cum all over him, it didn't take no more than a couple more roll of his hips for Yunho to start pumping his seed into her, deep and raspy grunts spilling from his throat as he continued to grind himself into her so as to ride out their orgasms.

Once they both came down from their highs, Yunho tilted Y/N's face up so he could kiss her. His kiss was desperate and his lips would harshly nip and tuck at her bottom lip, biting down and making it more swollen than it already was.

"You're mine now doll. I'm claiming you as my own. From now on anybody who wants you has to step over my dead body first."

Y/N giggled and blushed at his words, not against being Yunho's property one bit. Her fingers ran themselves through his hair as she kissed him back with the same amount of passed he had. Their kiss was interrupted by the loud buzzing of Yunho's phone.

"Shit." Yunho muttered as he reached for his phone, grimacing when he saw it was Hongjoong.

"Hello?"

Hongjoong's voice boomed through the speaker.

"Where the fuck are you two?! It's been over 2 hours! You should have been back a long ass time ago!"

They both looked at each other, trying hard not to burst out laughing.

"Uh.....we stopped for ice cream?" Yunho tried to make up an excuse.

"I'm not in the mood for games Yunho, so tell me what the fuck happened. Did you two get chased?"

With a shit eating grin on his face, Yunho stared straight at Y/N as he said the next words.

"Well if you really want to know, I just got done fucking my sweet partner in the backseat of the car."

They could hear Hongjoong wheezing while someone in the background started screaming hysterically.

"And you're going to be waiting for us more cause I'm not done with her yet...."

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