#a desk? oh wait shit no i need a chair for my vanity first

[myungnyangz]

part of my tax refund came in :) so i can order furniture for my room :)

[bouncybongfairy]

Halloween Night

Evil Morty x Bimbo Reader (BOTH READER AND EVIL MORTY ARE 18-YEAR-OLD SENIORS IN HIGH SCHOOL.) I'm surprised there aren't more Morty x Reader Fan Fics out there. Rick and Morty came out when I was 12, so Morty was one of my first crushes lol.

Summary: Morty and you have been together for about 8 months. You picked out a sexy alien costume hoping to impress Morty with how amazing you look. When you show him after weeks of waiting for it to arrive, he explains it may be a bit too scandalous before even complimenting you. This frustrates you because, as a cheerleader, the costume isn't more revealing than your uniform. You try to make him jealous at the prep rally and end up talking things out at the Halloween party you both show up at.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Part 2 is now posted!!!

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

When you got home from school, you were thrilled that your Halloween costume had finally come in the mail. Tomorrow was the 31st so you were cutting it close, not to mention you’ve been excited to show Morty. You two have been dating for 8 months and even though it doesn’t seem like a long time, it sure did feel like it. This was your first Halloween as a couple and you were both excited to spend it together. You let your backpack plop down on the carpet and sit on your bed. Using your eyebrow razor you rip open the green costume. It was a leather skirt, a matching tube top, silver gloves, and thigh highs. Once you put it on you fell in love with it, and you felt really confident. You FaceTimed Morty, setting your phone on your vanity and waiting for him to pick up. When he answered he was lying in his bed. You could tell his room was dark because of the lighting. You backed away from the phone so he could see the entire costume. The reason you chose an alien costume was for Morty, you figured he would be excited and flattered that you were thinking of him. Not to mention practically everyone in the school knew that Morty was always around aliens and intergalactic shenanigans. 

“Well?” you asked when he didn’t say anything. 

“It’s really hot, are you wearing that to Tricia’s party?” he asked, sounding a little less than entertained. 

“Um.. yeah? Is there something wrong?” you asked, confused as to why his energy was so negative. 

“I don’t know, don’t you think it’s kinda revealing,” he asked and your face dropped. 

“I don’t think it’s that much more revealing than my cheer uniform, and I wear that all the time,” you said, sitting on the office chair next to your desk. 

“Don’t play dumb though y-you know that costume shows quite a bit off,” he said. 

“What the fuck, I’m not playing dumb. Obviously, I know it’s a hot outfit. I'm just saying that it’s not worse than my cheerleading uniform and I wear that to school and football games. So why would this bother you?” you asked. 

“Fine, whatever if you want to go out with your tits and ass out that’s fine, I’ll just have to bring a gun.” he sighed. 

“Oh no don’t even worry about that, you can just stay home and play with the gun in your pants. I think imma just be with my girls tomorrow night. It’s so fucking crazy that it not only took me a week to pick this out for you but also waited weeks to show you how it looked. Do you realize you didn’t give me a single compliment since I’ve shown you? I respect your opinions but why do you have to be such a douche about it like honestly,” you said hanging up the call. You were feeling pretty beside yourself, you were so excited to spend Halloween together and it was like that was flushed down the toilet. You change out of your costume and lay out everything you need for tomorrow’s Halloween prep rally. After you finish up some homework, you head to bed even though you are feeling quite restless.  

The next morning you woke up feeling more optimistic about today. Morty sent you a good morning text which made you angry. You were expecting an apology not him trying to sweep shit under the rug. You woke up early in order to have time to shower and shave, not to mention you’d have to blow dry your hair after. The hot water was making you more sleepy than you felt while you were in bed. You scrubbed your scalp with shampoo, enjoying the hot water as you rinsed the suds out. You shaved your legs and exfoliated your body, you hopped out of the shower once the hot steam was making you feel faint. You sat at your vanity and began blow drying your hair. When you looked up, you saw all the polaroids of you and Morty taped to the sides of your vanity. It wasn’t like you guys were broken up or anything, clearly he wasn’t mad at you. It just seemed kind of hypocritical for him to judge you on showing too much skin because always said he liked that about you. You bump the ends of your long blonde hair and then start your make-up. You always wore a lot of make-up; big lashes, bright pink blush, lip gloss, ect. It didn’t matter if it looked cakey at times to you, obviously, it’s not going to look as good during 8th period as it did when you first got to school. 

After your hair and make-up was done, you put on your cheer uniform. You were going to Tricia’s house right after school to help her get things ready for her party. As you packed your costume you couldn’t ignore how upset you were about Morty today. You spotted Tricia and a couple of your friends sitting in the quad. After greeting and showering each other with compliments, you explained to them what happened with Morty last night. You showed them a picture of you in the green costume and they all reassured you that it wasn’t too sluty. 

“Did you guys break up for real this time?” Tricia asked, rubbing your shoulder. 

“No, he texted me good morning but that was it. I don’t know, I kinda feel like I overreacted. I was really looking forward to spending tonight together but I just feel like he was being disrespectful, all of a sudden he doesn’t want me to dress how I always have just because we’re together,” you said. 

“At the rally, you should really go full-out, you know like to make him jealous,” Tricia suggested. 

“Do you think he’s still coming to the party?” you asked the group. 

“Unless you specifically told him that you weren’t going, I'm sure he’ll be there,” one girl said. 

For the rest of the day, you thought about what she said. It seemed silly to be trying to make him jealous when that was what caused the argument in the first place. You mostly feel like his comments were out of line and you didn’t want to really piss him off, just toy him around a little. The day went by quickly, all the teachers figured that most students wouldn’t be paying attention today. You could see the anticipation building among your peers. Halloween only lands on a Friday every 7 years and everyone was buzzing about that. The student body was slowly filling the gym, getting ready for the prep rally. All the cheerleaders were in a separate room waiting to go on. Morty had texted you asking where you were going to be. You told him your usual spot and showed Tricia. 

“This is even more of a reason to go full out,” she said.

“I would go full out regardless of if I had a boyfriend or not,” you said. 

After waiting for 15 more minutes it was time for the team to perform. It was easy to pick Morty out of the crowd, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t happy to see him. He was smiling at you and it made you feel bad for leaving him. Your coach made a routine using Nicki Minaj’s Monster Verse. It was nice having a couch that was younger and understood the new generation of cheer better. You were feeling amazing, They made the lighting in the gym red which gave it a really cool vibe. Normally prep rallies really sucked and nobody ever really engages. Today being Halloween and Friday everyone was more willing to be involved. Chanting and volunteering for the little games and events. Morty was at the bottom of the bleachers, which made you eye level to each other. You could see that he was taking pictures of you which made you roll your eyes. The crowd and music were so loud as you were performing, that all you could focus on was him. He looked so cute and the fact that he was smiling the entire time was warming your heart. After you were done performing, the school was dismissed. Technically there was still half of the last period left but nobody went back to class. As you walked out of the gym, Morty greeted you. 

“Did you think I was showing off too much at the rally?” you asked sarcastically to make a point. 

“I thought you looked hot, look I didn’t mean to offend you for real. You’re my girlfriend of course. I don't like sharing your body with other people’s eyes. I should have told you how good you looked beforehand,” he admitted, grabbing your hand and walking by your side. 

“I appreciate you for looking at things from my point of view. Sorry for not texting you back this morning,” you said, giving him a kiss on his cheek. 

“It’s okay I figured you were pissed,” he said laughing. 

“I have to go, a couple of girls and I are going to Tricia’s house to get ready for her party,” you said.

“Come to my house and get ready, you have all your stuff in your duffle right?” he asked.

“Yeah but I don’t know I promised her,” you sighed. 

“I’ll stop for food on the way,” he said trying to convince you; it worked. 

Morty had been driving his dad’s car around for a while. The two of them got into a huge blowout over his dad not keeping a job. Morty was doing a paid internship for a chemistry teacher at the local college. Long story short Morty had to take over the payments of the car. Morty was about to take you home after hanging out after school and his dad said no because he hadn’t taken out the trash for the past two days. Morty blew up at him, he looked his dad dead in the eye and told him he was the new man of the house. Ridiculed him for not having income and then having the audacity to take away something Morty paid for.  You had never seen Morty so mad, his face was bright red and his eyes were wild. You would never admit this but something is different about Morty for the past couple of months. Ever since his internship, he’s been on a short fuse and a God complex. You summed it up to him becoming more confident in himself and how could you be mad at that? When he took you home he drove so fast yet controlled that it scared you a bit. 

Once you went through the Burger King drive-thru you made it back to his house. You were pretty sure Beth didn’t like you because every time you came into the house she never acknowledged you. He pulled you upstairs and into his room, he always had his LED lights set to red and it always smells like stale pot/tobacco smoke. His closet door was a mirror so you laid out a towel and started recurring your hair and re-doing your make-up. After throwing his backpack into the corner of the room, he walked over to his stereo and played Pumpkins Scream In the Dead of Night at full volume. He then plopped down on his bed and started packing a bowl into his slightly dirty bong. You were picking your french fries in between teasing certain parts of your hair. Morty walked over and stood directly above you and blew a huge bong rip down on you. 

“Ugh! Boo-Boo don’t do that you know I don’t like that,” you said trying to waft some of the smoke out of your face. In response, he playfully humped the back of your head causing you to fall back a little. This made him laugh so hard that you couldn’t help but join him. 

“Are you dressing up?” you asked him. 

“No, I’m just going to sell while I’m there,” he said, referring to Tricia’s party.

“Only weed right?” you asked. 

“I promised you nothing else right?” he asked rhetorically. 

“I’m just making sure,” you said, spraying your hair with a final layer of hair spray.

When you were finally finished, you took your clothes off and changed into your costume. When you turned around, Morty was rolling a blunt that wasn’t what surprised you. It was the huge sack of weed on his bed, seriously as big as your ass. You questioned whether it was safe to be taking all that but he assured you it would be secure in the car and of course, the fact that he carried it. The two of you took some selfies in the mirror before leaving. He of course made sure to compliment how good you looked which made you roll your eyes. Once you got to the party Tricia was a little sad that you didn’t come to get ready with all the girls but was happy to see you and Morty had worked things out. Normally you don’t smoke at all but after two shots, the idea of a blunt was rather intriguing. Morty was sitting in the arm of the chair and you were leaning back, pressed against him. The entire house was encased in smoke, it was like no matter where you went you couldn’t get a breath of oxygen. Morty walk talking with one of his buddies who were laughing and fucking around. You were holding a solo cup that was filled with cherry vodka sour, it was staining your lips a bright red. The only thing you had eaten all day was the Burger King after school so the weed and alcohol were hitting you heavily. You could tell Morty noticed because he was holding on to your waist as if you were going to lose balance. You turned around so that you were facing him, his eyes were red, the same as yours. He pulled you close and asked if you were doing okay. 

“I wish we could go trick -hiccup- or treating like we used to,” you said giggling. 

“Yeah, I miss when things were simple,” he said, giving you a kiss on the cheek. 

“I know I’m fucked up but have you been like… okay lately? You seem darker,” you drunkenly try to explain. 

“I’m just becoming more aware of the bullshit around me. I’m fine, you’re fine; we’re fine,” he reassured you. 

“I’m sorry I blew up at you last night, I’m having a really good time with you,” you said, giving him a peck on the lips. 

“I love you,” he blurted out 

“I love you too,” you said almost as fast as he said it. This was the first time you’d ever said I love you to each other. Even though you were both a little cross-faded, it still felt so personal and special. After about another hour you head back to his house and well… ya know if ya know. 

[cigarettesandslushies]

destress // jd x stressed!reader

jd helps you destress from studying for midterms 

word count: 1,700 

tw: language, smut, ambiguous gender but was written for a female!reader in mind

requests & questions

Note: Hello! I’m a new writing blog! I am an aspiring writer and thought it would be fun to get in some practice by writing for some of my favorite fandoms. I’ve been wanting to write JD x Reader fics for a while so I’m happy to finally be doing that. Please feel free to send in requests! This is my first-time writing smut so be gentle with me (even if JD isn’t being gentle with you). -Ellie

“Shit, did a fucking tornado hit your room?”

You didn’t acknowledge the intruder that entered through your bedroom window. You didn’t have the time to. With multiple midterms coming up that you weren’t the least bit prepared for, every second from now until then was precious.

“Not even a hello, darling?”

You could tell that a brow of his was quirked, teasing. He very well knew that midterms were next week. Though, compared to you, he couldn’t give less of a shit. How you wish you could do the same.

“JD, not now.” You warned.

He stood, appraising your midterm wrecked room quietly. Notes, textbooks, and wrappers galore decorated various surfaces, from the floor to the bed to your vanity.

He walked, watching each step as he made his way towards you. You were hunched over your desk, nose deep in one of your textbooks. Your highlighter was tapping against the wood of your desk, keeping time with the anxious bounce of your leg.

He was behind you in the next moment, resting his head against yours. He placed his hands on your thighs firmly, slowing your movements. You took a deep breath, setting your book down. Your head titled up, moving his head from yours in order to meet his gaze.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of your lips upon seeing him. God, he was such a better sight than statistics.

“Hello.” You murmured.

He matched your smile, dropping his volume to yours. “See? Now was that so hard?” He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Hello, darling. How are you? Did you miss me?”

You rested your head back against him. Your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the warmth of his body. “No. Not even a little bit. Statistics has been the best company.”

“Oh, really? I’m going to wager that stats is fucking you pretty hard.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Maybe even harder than you.”

“Are you challenging me? You know I always win.”

You took a deep breath. The slight smile gone from your face and replaced with a deep frown. Your eyebrows pulled together, your face scrunching to meet the stress headache growing.

“JD, you know on any other day I would want you to win. I can’t.”

“Come on, give me just an hour.”

“Bullshit.” You were quick to reply. Your eyes flew open to stare up at him. “Like we’ve ever gone just an hour. You keep me for multiple hours which I don’t have. I’m already losing sleep as it is. I promise you can keep me up some other night but tonight-“

He stepped back, grabbing the back of your chair, and spinning you to face him. “Darling,” he drawled slowly. “You’re losing it.”

You blinked once, your gaze falling into your lap as you processed his words. Your hands met your head, elbows resting on your knees as you curled up into yourself. “I know.” You spoke into your hands. “God, JD, I’m so fucking stressed. I have so many midterms to study for without enough hours in the day. I can’t fail these. They’re worth so much of my grade. It will ruin my GPA if I get anything less than-”

“Sh, sh…” he crouched, leveling himself with you. “How about we round up your teachers in an abandoned building and blow it up, hm? Would that make this all better?”

You would have laughed if you didn’t know that he was completely serious. This boy would do anything for you. He’s proved that time and time again. “Getting rid of the teachers wouldn’t get rid of the classes themselves. I’d still have to take the midterms eventually.”

“You’d at least get more time.”

“True.” You agreed. Another deep breath and you lifted your head from your hands. “I think it would just be easier for me to study. It would take time and planning to pull it off and anyway, do you want to go through a whole grieve fest at school?”

“It would make for an interesting week.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“No, I’m hilarious.” He took your hands in his, pulling you up from your seat. “Fine, no offing the teachers, but you know the more that you try to cram all that shit in your head, the more it will spill out. Breaks are healthy, recommended even.”

A finger under your chin, a thumb resting below your lip, he brought his face closer to yours. He was close, too close. You smelled his last cigarette and a cherry slushie lingering in his breath.

“Let me help you destress.” He ghosted the words over your lips. How could you ever think that you could deny him? How could you ever think that he wouldn’t get his way?

All it took was a quiet please and his hands were everywhere.

With one swift movement, JD knocked the contents of your desk onto the floor. With another, you were sitting on top of it, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He caught your lips with his, too slow, too gentle.

You didn’t have the patience for his teasing.

You intertwined your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer. You pressed your lips harder against his, showing him your eagerness to have him, just as he wanted.

You could feel him smirk against your lips, his hands moving to undress you from the waist down.

“Well, would you look at that? For someone who didn’t want to even acknowledge me, you sure are eager to have me inside of you.”

You bit back a moan, his words touching you before he even laid a hand between your legs.

Fucking asshole and his way with dirty talk.

“Jason Dean, you’re a pain in my ass.” You replied breathlessly.

A low chuckle followed as you dragged your lips across his jawline in a sporadic series of kisses. You bucked your hips up towards him, a sign for him to hurry the hell up and take you already.

You would have been surprised if he actually took the sign instead of ignoring it and taking another direction.

“Nu uh, darling. I can’t shove my cock in you and fuck you into the desk until the wood chips just yet. With how stressed you are over midterms, I’m not sure if you can handle it. So let me loosen you up first, hm?”

He didn’t wait to slip a finger inside of you, then two, and then three. You leaned back along the desk, your elbows barely keeping you up and steady. He set a rhythm, relishing the sounds that you made for him and him alone. Whimpers, gasps, and moans alike were all tangled with his name.

He felt you were getting close. He could always tell, sometimes before you even knew. You never quite knew how close you were to falling off the edge until he was pulling away from you, leaving you empty and longing for him to fill you again.

Just like he liked it.

“JD,” you breathed shakily. You didn’t realize that your elbows had failed you early on and you were lying completely flat against the desk. You shifted your weight, lifting yourself back up and onto your elbows once more. Your eyes narrowed when you caught his gaze.

“What? Did you not want to cum on my cock after all?” He asked innocently, a contrast to the words that came from his mouth.

“God, I could kill you.”

“There can be only one killer in this relationship, darling.” He drawled, undoing his jeans. He was hard and so ready to fuck you until you couldn’t remember the population versus the sample. He hesitated, almost expecting another retort, another “you’re not funny”, but no. You weren’t going to drag this out any longer. You wanted him now.

You needed him now.

“JD, please. For the love of god, fuck me.”

He didn’t even have to ask for a please. He knew that meant there was nothing else in your head but wanting him to fuck you.

Would there ever come a time that he wouldn’t get exactly what he wanted?

“Only because you asked so nicely.” It only took a single beat, a single thrust before he was inside of you completely, barely giving you a chance to adjust to him. You let yourself fall back onto the desk, crying out his name.

The rhythm he set was faster, rougher. His fingers curled over your shoulders. His hands pushed you down as his hips pushed you up. Every thrust was met with force. He never let you move. He did the moving for you. He was in full control, using your body for his pleasure which just so happened to cause you pleasure.

A perfect match, that’s what he said, and you believed it. He knew exactly where to hit the tip of his cock to make you-

“JD, I’m getting-”

“Mmm, I can feel that. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.”

“JD-”

His lips caught the rest of your whine. His movements were sloppier now, his hands messily tangling themselves in your hair. He was close too.

As he pulled back ever so slightly, he uttered three words. “Cum for me.”

With that, you came undone and he followed closely behind. Screams and moans of ecstasy were muffled against one another’s lips. It took a few moments for the both of you to catch your breath. He waited until your breathing steadied to pull out.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “There. That should get you through stats.”

You laughed. “It should, but is it going to get me through French?”

“Finish studying for stats and we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s get you cleaned up and while you finish studying, I’ll go get you some real food. No more of this granola shit.”

He began walking towards the bathroom but stopped halfway across your room. He didn’t turn to look at you when he said:

“You’re one of the smartest people I know. I know it’s not much coming from a town full of slaves and blanks but if there’s anyone who can pass these midterms it’s you.”

He continued walking.

[tothemeadow]

A New Year’s gift from me to you!

~*ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ TᗯO*~

warnings: NSFW, semi-public sex

words: 5.1 k

Prologue | Chapter One

-

“Not interested.”

All it takes is those two words, two dreadful words, and Kyojuro’s groaning in disappointment. Tapping his fingers against the chair’s arms, he pushes his lips out in a pout. Giyuu merely rolls his eyes at him, gaze flicking back to whatever is displayed on the computer’s screen.

It had only been a mere suggestion, nothing more. Go out, get some drinks, maybe find someone to take home. Lord knows how much Giyuu needs to get laid; the guy’s stress is palpable, and Kyojuro wants to help his friends however he can. Maybe all it takes is to get his dick sucked, nice and fucking hard. And, if he plays his cards right, have someone clinging onto his arm by the end of the night.

Kyojuro isn’t an idiot, nor is he blind. Giyuu is beautiful, looking like he stepped right out of the pages of some goddamn fairy tale. Hell, even his bank account is real pretty, every single zero making it even more dazzling. What he means is that Giyuu can have anybody if he truly wanted to. The problem is, however, is that a sack of potatoes has more charisma than the poor man. Giyuu isn’t much of a social butterfly, unlike Kyojuro.

It kind of sucks.

“Aw, come on, man,” Kyojuro groans, “let me take you for a night out. You need some time to sit back and relax. Let someone else take care of you.”

“You’re being awfully persistent about this.”

“That’s because I want what’s best for you, duh. You run some bigshot company and need me to explain that to you? What was the point of you traveling overseas for university if you don’t put that knowledge to use?”

With a sigh, Giyuu turns away from his computer and rests his elbows on his desk. Like the rest of his office, it’s a solid piece of modern, expensive style. The wood gleams with the rays of sunlight pouring in through the windows, looking almost too neat to be believable. There’s not a speck of dust in sight. It’s not the first time Kyojuro’s visited Giyuu’s office, but it always amazes him just how clean and immaculate the space is. It really reflects its owner, his simple yet sleek style.

“Kyojuro,” Giyuu starts, threading his fingers together, “you literally told me you wanted me to take someone home.”

At that, Kyojuro smiles. “And what’s your point? You go to some Ivy League school and not partake in some parties? No keg stands? Beer pong? Fucking the brains out of some busty blonde?”

“Not everyone is a certified sex symbol,” Giyuu states coolly. “You don’t see my face on the cover of magazines advertising an article about some upcoming film where I blow everyone to bits and take a dame to bed.”

“Ohohoho, somebody’s getting frisky, I see. That is a sign, my dear friend. You need to get your dick wet and pronto.”

“Don’t belittle me.”

Raising his hands in mock self-defense, Kyojuro flashes Giyuu a knowing smirk. “You’re only proving my point. And if you don’t want to meet somebody random, why not let me hit up someone I know? I can set you up.”

Giyuu scoffs. “No thanks.”

“Oooo, what about Mitsuri or Shinobu-“

“Don’t ever suggest that,” Giyuu hisses. His entire face scrunches, much like he just tasted something incredibly sour.

Bursting into a fit of laughter, Kyojuro leans forward in his seat, hands gripping onto his sides. “Shit, man, I forget how funny you can be sometimes!” Wiping away at his eyes, he sits back, a spare giggle or two escaping from his lips. “Speaking of Mitsuri… I guess she really hit it off with Idris’ girl’s friend.”

Instead of saying anything, Giyuu merely raises an eyebrow. However, he still looks incredibly disinterested.

“Oh, you remember her, don’t you? The one from the party last week? Long legs, nice ass? I think her name was (y/n)?”

At the mention of your name, Giyuu visibly perks up. Heh. Hook, line, and sinker.

“It’s a damn shame, don’t you think? Somebody so fine got nabbed before I even had the chance to make a move,” Kyojuro continues, willing his voice to take on a wistful tone. He sends Giyuu a wink. “She’s a solid ten, don’t you think?”

The movement is so, so subtle, but Kyojuro knows he’s got Giyuu right where he wants him. Giyuu clears his throat, then – a poor attempt at trying to come off as disinterested. “It’s a good thing Mitsuri found someone she likes so much,” he says, completely bypassing the question.

“Mitsuri likes her, alright; likes her even better in bed.”

It takes all of Kyojuro’s willpower not to laugh, it really does. He can practically see the gears turning in Giyuu’s head, the slight tinge of red blooming on the tips of his ears. Jeez, if it takes this much to get Giyuu flustered, then he’d pay to see what would happen if he took Giyuu to a strip club.

“And I’ll tell you what,” he continues, crossing his legs and cocking his head. “Mitsuri’s willing to share her with the rest of us, but only if she wants it.”

“What… What are you talking about? What do you mean by sharing?”

Clicking his tongue in amusement, Kyojuro uncrosses his legs and shuffles forward, just barely sitting on the edge of the chair. “Exactly what it sounds like, Giyuu. Doesn’t that sound nice? Imagine having a pretty thing like that sitting on your lap.”

Again, Giyuu scoffs. “You’re starting to sound like Tengen.”

“But you didn’t say no to what I just put in your head.”

Giyuu grumbles something under his breath, but it’s too low for Kyojuro to understand. No matter; there’s a knock at the door, then, and in pops Giyuu’s personal secretary’s head. A cute boy – Kamado Tanjiro – with honest eyes and a genuine smile. The earrings he wears swings in his lobes. “Tomioka-san, you’re three o’clock appointment is here. Shall I tell them you’re busy?”

“Don’t worry about it, Tanjiro,” Kyojuro says. Drawing himself up to a stand, he smooths out the wrinkles in his pants and salutes Giyuu with two fingers. “Think about what I said, Giyuu. There’s fun to be had.” With a final smirk, he brushes past Tanjiro and leaves.

-

It’s only been a few days since that experience with Mitsuri, but you can already tell that something’s changed. Granted, you still feel a bit odd about the whole situation, but another, darker side of you is pleased. Daki is more than ecstatic to have you as a sugar sister; before, whenever you’d go shopping with her, you’d only help pick out clothing for her since everything was way too damn expensive. Now, though… Now things are different.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Daki gushes from where she sits. Perched on a fluffy stool in front of her vanity, she carefully applies a set of false eyelashes. “Like, think of all the fun things we get to do together! Don’t get me wrong, Idris is great, but some of those parties he drags me to can be an absolute bore. If you’re there, well, it’s bound to be more fun! Besides, think of all the yummy treats you’ll get to have…”

From your spot on the couch, you guffaw at your friend’s attempt to hype you up. Carefully, you dip the brush back into the bottle; the nail polish Daki picked out is a shade of pastel pink with pearl undertones. She said Mitsuri really had a thing for pretty pink things, so it was only natural for you to fit that bill, obviously.

“Yes, because stuffing my face with macarons and bubbly is how I want to spend my time,” you say, sarcasm dripping heavily from your words.

“Oh, like you wouldn’t love that,” Daki throws right back at you. “Besides, you wanna be extra sweet for Mitsuri, don’t you? Don’t act like Mitsuri didn’t already have her head stuffed between your legs.”

“Daki!” you shriek. You scramble to catch the bottle of nail polish before it spills all over the place. “Don’t say things like that!”

“Pffft, what for? It’s true, you sneaky bitch! You’ve been glowing ever since your date with her! Did I not tell you that sex with Misturi is the bomb?”

“Okay, okay! You were right!” you exclaim, bursting into round of giggles.

Putting her mascara away, Daki gets up from her spot and moves to where you sit on the couch. Lifting your legs, she slithers in next to you and props your feet on her lap. “Give me that,” she says, taking the nail polish away from you. “Are you and Mitsuri going on a date anytime soon?”

As you nod, a sheepish smile grows on your face. “Yeah – she’s taking me to a theatre tonight, actually. I guess there’s some play she wanted to watch with me.”

“Aww, well isn’t that cute!” Daki chirps, not looking away from the task at hand. “Wait,” she says, suddenly looking up at you, “that means I get to play dress up, right?”

Since being Idris’ sugar baby and all, Daki is no stranger to the luxurious lifestyle and the vast amount of clothes and accessories that comes with. Furthermore, Idris even bought her some swanky apartment, filled with top notch appliances, spacious rooms, and yes, you guessed it – a walk in closet. It’s where you sit now, gazing at the numerous wracks of clothing, the shelves of shoes and purses. It put you in mind of Barbie’s closet, actually, with just how many articles of clothing Daki owns.

You guess you could consider yourself lucky that you and your best friend are the same size. Sure, you’ve shared clothes with each other throughout the years, but once she started her “collection” of designer products, it was game over. You became her personal doll, then, and Daki loved every second of it.

The smile on your face grows at Daki’s excitement. “Who else would I have to pick me out the perfect outfit?” you coo. Daki giggles, then, her green eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Chop, chop,” she says, pushing your feet away and standing up. You take a moment to admire the neatly applied nail polish adorning your toes. “I have the perfect outfit in mind for you, and it’s bound to have Mitsuri drooling all over you!”

“Are you sure about that?” you tease, lolling your head to the side.

Scurrying over to a wrack of dresses (all of which are designer, you’re sure of it), Daki pushes some to the side and grabs one that has you gasping. Powder blue in color, the bustier top and layered tulle skirt almost seem more befitting of a princess rather than yourself. Standing up from the couch, you walk over to her, eager to get a better closer. Lacey pastel flower decorate the top layer of tulle and travel up the bustier, all looking so delicate and sweet. It’s a beautiful dress, that much is for sure.

“I’ll do your hair and makeup, too, okay!” Daki exclaims. She really is too sweet for her own good sometimes.

Later that very evening, you’re sitting in the back of a sleek, luxurious car. Mitsuri sits next to you, looking as perfect as always; with her curled hair pinned high on her head, you’re graced with the elegant slope of her neck, the diamond choker wrapped around her throat. A few curly wisps of pink and green hair frame her face, give her a youthful look. She’s so breathtakingly stunning that it’s leaving your throat dry.

Mitsuri busies herself with messaging someone on her phone – she’s already apologized for letting her work get in the way of your date tonight – but you don’t mind, not when you get to gaze at her lovely being. You’ve already began to familiarize yourself with her brand and the creative looks she specializes in: sultry, elegant, and enough to bring a person to their knees. Perhaps that’s what you tell yourself as your eyes scan over her bare skin; it’s for fashion, of course, not because you’re a shameless pervert.

Still, the choker adorning her throat is a bit too enticing, especially with its delicate chain hanging from its center, nestled between the valley of her voluptuous breasts. Why does she always have to have her cleavage on full display around you? Doesn’t she have any idea how much it makes your brain melt?

“You’re staring,” Mitsuri murmurs, her attention still on her phone. The corners of her mouth curl into a smile. “You’re not distracted, are you, sweets?”

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” you whisper. “It’s not my fault that you’re too pretty.”

A pleasant blush blooms on her face. Sparing a moment to glance at the chauffeur, Mitsuri clicks her screen off and puts her phone back into her purse. “Come here,” she says, her voice dripping with honey. Wrapping an arm around your waist, she pulls you closer, barely brushes her glossed lips against your ear. “You don’t want to start something like that, do you? I don’t want to be rude and ruin the back of this car.”

The giggle in your ear is enough to send shivers down your spine. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean, sweets, is that I don’t want to have someone clean your cum off of this leather.”

You gasp as a wave of heat strikes your very core, wraps around your insides and gives them a good squeeze. “Mommy,” you plead, keeping your voice quiet.

“And your hair and makeup look so nice,” Mitsuri continues. “It’d be a shame to ruin it before you get to show it off.”

Shit, Daki was right. Turns out she knew exactly what she was doing.

“All that matters is that Mommy got to see it,” you purr, leaning more into her warm body. Your eyelashes flutter when her soft breast makes contact with your arm. “It doesn’t matter who else gets to see it.”

The grip around your waist tightens. “(y/n)…”

“Kanroji-san, we’re here,” the chauffeur’s voice suddenly cuts in. It’s enough to snap you back to reality; glancing out the window, you’re greeted with the sight of a brightly lit theatre and a line of patrons waiting at the ticket booth.

“My, my,” Mitsuri says, “looks like it’s going to be a packed house tonight. It’s a good thing I booked some tickets ahead of time, huh?” Turning back to you, she flashes a lovely smile and caresses your cheek. “Have you ever sat in a balcony seat before, darling? You’re going to have a great view.”

“Wait, seriously? Aren’t those super… expensive…?” as you trail off, realization dawns upon you. Of course Mitsuri would buy out some of the most expensive seats in the house – it’s only natural of her to do so. Still, the mere idea of how much they even spent throws your mind in for a loop.

“And your reaction makes it even more special,” Mitsuri purrs. “Come on, let’s go get seated while there’s still time.”

Opening the car door, Mitsuri steps out, and then she promptly turns back to you to help. Linking her arm around yours, she leads you inside the theatre; taking some twists and turns, she leads you up a secluded staircase that, in turn, takes you to the proper balcony. A gasp escapes from your mouth before you can stop it. It’s utterly breathtaking from where you are, the large stage set below you, the sea of people swarming to find their own seats.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Mitsuri asks you as she joins you by the ledge. Setting her elbows on the wall, she looks around the theatre, a thoughtful hum vibrating in her throat. “And just think, sweets, that this is all for you.” Turning to you, she perches her chin in a hand. “I’ll show you so many things that you’ll love, darling. It’s the least I can do.”

“Mitsuri,” you murmur. Swallowing thickly, you push back the creeping urge to cry. How did you get so lucky meeting someone so genuinely sweet?

“Hey now,” Mitsuri continues, still using that honeyed tone, “don’t get sappy. If you start to cry, then I’ll start crying as well!”

Beckoning you over, she takes her seat and watches as you take the one next to hers. The balcony itself is small, with enough room only for three seats. And, as far as it seems, you’ll get to spend the entirety of the play alone with Mitsuri, away from wandering eyes. Hands intertwined with hers, the two of you fall into easy conversation and mild flirting to pass the time. Both of you are practically petting each other’s thighs through your dresses when the door opens; snapping hands away from each other, you turn to see who the unexpected newcomer is.

“Giyuu?”

Coming to an abrupt stop at the sound of his name, Giyuu’s eyes widen. Once he sees it’s only you and Mitsuri, he visibly relaxes, his shoulders slumping. “Um… Hello, ladies. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Drawing around the corner, he stands awkwardly before the empty seat. He offers a polite bow, but you notice right away that his eyes refuse to meet yours.

“This is certainly a pleasant surprise!” Mitsuri chirps, a dazzling smile spreading on her features.

“Tomioka-san,” you say, trying to put his nerves at ease, “please, sit down. I don’t bite.”

Still, Giyuu refuses to meet your eyes, but he does as you say and takes the seat next to you. It may be the dim light of the theatre, but you swear there’s a faint blush on his cheeks.

Okay, time to try this again. “Tomioka-san… I wanted to thank you for last time. For trying to comfort me when I was so obviously out of place at that party.”

At that, Giyuu clears his throat, and then he finally looks at you. Instead of saying anything, though, he merely grunts and nods his head. You offer him a small smile.

Just as you remember, he’s devastatingly handsome, his gaze a cold, steely blade. On the outside, he seems incredibly intimidating; dark hair, black getup, sharp eyes. You know there’s more than what meets the eye, and Giyuu is the epitome of that very concept. The aura surrounding him is calming, reassuring. You barely know the guy, only met him once, but you already like him.

“My, Giyuu,” Mitsuri speaks up, leaning forward in her seat so she can look around you, “don’t you look nice! I always told you that you would look great in black on black, but you never listen to me! Now look at you! You look like you just came straight off a runway! Don’t you think so, (y/n)?”

Mitsuri has a point, of course. Dressed in a black suit, black button up, and black shoes, Giyuu is the textbook definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He almost seems flustered by Mitsuri’s comment; he looks to you, an unreadable glint in his eyes. Slowly, you nod, humming your agreement.

“I think he looks absolutely dashing,” you say, a small giggle following afterwards.

Giyuu’s eyes drift down, skim across your pretty dress, but you notice the way they linger over the bits of your bare skin. Hastily clearing his throat, his eyes flicker back up, the blush on his cheeks darkening the slightest bit. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs. “That color really suits you.”

With a smile, you look away, trying to ignore the excited thumping of your heart. Unbeknownst to you, Mitsuri sends Giyuu a glare, but then it melts away into a knowing look. Giyuu catches her eyes, and a silent conversation passes between the two of them.

Perhaps you should’ve paid more attention to them. You should’ve noticed Giyuu’s lingering stares, the way Mitsuri’s hand stayed on your thigh the entire time. But no, you were so enraptured by the play on the stage, stuck in a state of constant awe by the performer’s exquisite ways.

It’s about three fourths of the way through when Mitsuri finally places her lips against your ear, her warm breath fanning across the delicate skin. “Sweets, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, hmm? You’re ruining the experience for Giyuu.” Confused by what she meant, you begin to turn your head to her, but she quickly stops you in your place. “Now, now, don’t make it so obvious. Instead of watching the show, he’s been watching you. I wonder why that is?” She breaks into a low, sultry laugh. You’ve only seen her act this one once, and that was when the two of you…. Well, you know…

“I noticed the way you were looking at him earlier,” Mitsuri continues. “He really is such a pretty man, isn’t he? Especially dressed in all black like that… It’s almost kind of exciting, isn’t it?” Again, she chuckles. “Now, this is entirely up to you, sweets, but I don’t have a problem sharing.”

What? What was that supposed to mean?

“I know, I know, this is all too sudden, but think about it. He’s a pretty man, wouldn’t you agree? I’m not saying you have to, but wouldn’t it be nice to see him in between your legs?”

This time, you snap your head to her. “Mitsuri!” you whisper-yell, “What the hell are you trying to do?!”

“Don’t act so prudish, sweets,” she purrs, her fingers trailing over your jaw. “Just look at him.” Taking your chin in hand, she directs you to look at Giyuu instead. Only one half of his face is illuminated from the light coming from the stage, but you can see the hungry glint in his eyes. “He’s practically undressing you with his eyes, sweets. How does that make you feel?”

“Tomioka-san…”

“Please don’t consider me lewd,” Giyuu starts, his voice just above a raspy grumble. “But I… I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he confesses. “It isn’t fair to you of me thinking that way.”

Swallowing thickly, you release a shaky breath. “And what were you thinking, exactly…?”

Closing his eyes, Giyuu takes a moment to collect himself. “I want what you and Mitsuri have.”

On your other side, Mitsuri giggles. “Hear that, darling? Isn’t that so endearing? Giyuu practically just confessed to you!” Leaning in close, she presses her soft breasts against you. “And I’m perfectly okay if you want to say yes. Everyone deserves some happiness, hmm? Don’t be shy, now. Neither of us are foolish.”

This really is all too sudden. You never your night to head in this direction, nevertheless hear Giyuu tell you that he wants what you and Mitsuri have. Does that mean he also wanted to have a certain arrangement between the two of you? It’s not like you’re against it – Giyuu is certainly handsome, after all – but wouldn’t that make you seem desperate?

“If you’re on the fence about it, why don’t you give a go, just for tonight?” Mitsuri suggests. “We can forget all about it if you want. And if you don’t, well… Things should be fun, shouldn’t they?”

“I… I guess.”

“Wonderful. Giyuu, I give you my blessing to make an impression on our sweet little darling here,” Mitsuri purrs. “Don’t mess it up for yourself.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Giyuu grunts. He holds out a hand, then, a silent question displayed on his face. You glance between his face and his hand; your mind is rapidly going in loops, wondering just what he had in mind exactly. Gingerly, you place your hand in his, gasping when he suddenly yanks you up as he stands. “We won’t be gone for long,” he mutters at Mitsuri.

Mitsuri waves a dismissive hand, an uncharacteristic smirk playing on her pretty face. “Take your time. I know that you’ll need it.”

Giyuu pulls you away, leaving a giggling Mitsuri in your wake. The door to the balcony closes with a click that echoes down the silent hallway. Now that you’re completely alone with him, the realization of what this whole ordeal means comes crashing into you. Giyuu is being dead serious about this, and, well, you are too, apparently.

The two of you remain quiet as he pulls you down the hallway, his grip on your hand both gentle yet strong. He stops outside of a bathroom door, glancing both ways before dragging you in; after he’s checked for any potential bystanders in the bathroom, he locks the door. It’s then that you realize that this is the first time seeing him in bright lighting, but damn he looks just as fine. This is the first time that you’ve also stood directly next to him as well. He’s a lot broader than you anticipated, his shoulders tapering into slim hips.

“I meant it when I said it,” he tells you. The sheer sincerity of his voice strikes something deep within you, leaves you rooted to the spot. “This isn’t the way I wanted things to play out, but I uh, had someone put this little idea in the back of my head and it won’t go away.”

“You… really couldn’t stop thinking about me? I’m flattered, Tomioka-san. I didn’t know I left such an impression on you.”

“Heh. You’d be surprised.” Your breath catches in your throat as takes both of your hands in his, his thumbs drawing soothing circles into the skin. “Listen… I’m not… I’m not really good at this thing,” he says, voice low. “Relationships have never really been my forte.”

Ah, so that explains a lot.

“I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I never pegged you for the sweet type,” you tell him.

“It’s called being considerate. I know plenty of people who wouldn’t hesitate to screw someone over.”

“You’re so serious, Tomioka-san. I can… Let me help you relax. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Giyuu hums, pulls you closer. “It’s not too late to turn back, but I really want this,” he murmurs. “Humor me?”

Before you know it, you’re backing up, the back of your thighs colliding with the counter; Giyuu lifts you with ease, setting your ass on the counter, and slipping between your legs. His mouth descends upon yours, touch almost featherlight as he kisses you. You urge him to press harder, your hands abandoning his hold and grabbing onto the lapels of his jacket instead. Giyuu grunts as you pull him even closer; sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, you pull it outward, relishing in the hiss that escapes him.

You shouldn’t be surprised with the way things go; time blurs, yet the moments seem so sharp. The pretty tulle of your skirt gathers around your hips, Giyuu’s strong hands gripping onto your thighs in such a way that it seems like he’s afraid to let you go. His mouth bleeds gold as you take kiss after kiss away from him, tongue sweeping into his mouth and licking away at the insides.

Things only grow more intimate from there; soon enough, you’re unbuttoning his shirt, hands pressing in and drifting across his skin. He’s surprisingly fit, but then again, it only adds to his godly visage. He’s openly moaning into your mouth at this point, hips bucking forward and seeking out that delicious friction. You choke on a moan as his clothed cock drags across your slit. Your panties are beyond ruined at this point, soaked all the way through and leaving a mess on the front of his slacks.

“Mmph – I bet you feel even better inside,” Giyuu breathes. “I want to… I want to see you wrapped around my cock.”

“Yes, Giyuu, yes,” you plead. Frantically, you undo the pants of his slacks, slip your hand inside his boxers.

“Ah, fuck,” he hisses. His hips absentmindedly buck into your touch, a groan rumbling deep in his chest. His voice is so low, so fucking gravelly – it’s wonderful, and fuck if you wouldn’t want to listen to it on loop.

Your insides tighten at the schlick, schlick, schlick noise that fills the bathroom, echoing all around you. Your pussy clenches around nothing, another drop of arousal seeping through your panties. “You said you wanted what I have with Mitsuri, right?” you purr. “Let me… Let me call you Daddy.”

It’s clear that the name causes something to snap inside of him; a growl rips itself from his throat, and his eyes flash with a darker, more animalistic gleam. Urging your hand off of him, he promptly pushes your panties to the side; your body tenses with excitement, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. Giyuu moans as he sheathes his cock inside of you, his hands gripping onto your legs and wrapping them around his slim hips.

“Oh, baby,” he purrs, his hands slamming down on the counter either side of you, effectively caging you in. “Feels so good… so tight…”

“Daddy, come on,” you whine, “we don’t have all night. You wanted this, remember? So fuck me, already. Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Giyuu murmurs into your ear. Sliding his hips away, he snaps his cock right back in, your velvety walls eagerly sucking him in. “I plan on doing so much more. You won’t regret it, baby. Not on my watch.”

“Just don’t ruin the dress,” you mutter, placing your lips against the pounding vein in his neck. “It’s not mine and I really don’t feel removing your cum from it.”

Giyuu sucks a breath in through his teeth as you suck a mark into his flesh. “Then I guess I’ll just have to cum inside, huh…?”

“I fucking dare you.”

“That sounds like a challenge, baby. Don’t mind if I do…”

-

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, they’ve been gone for a while, now,” Mitsuri says quietly into her phone. “Giyuu really needed to let loose, huh?”

“That sneaky little bastard,” Kyojuro says. He sighs. “And I invited for a night out, too. Dammit. Why does everyone else get to have fun while I don’t?”

Mitsuri giggles. “You’re really that jealous of Giyuu, huh? It’s actually really funny. Maybe I should tell Tengen, just to see what his reaction is like!”

“What, so he can join in on your little ‘arrangement’ you’ve got going on? What about me, huh? I thought we were friends!”

“And we are! If (y/n) wants anything to do with you, that’s entirely up to her. Wait, hold on – the door just opened. Talk to you later, Kyojuro!”

“Wait, Mitsuri-“

Click.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot: Ask Questions, Throw Shield Later.

Intro: Steve and Katie have an unwelcome late night visitor…

Warnings: “Language!” Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

W/C: 1.9k

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: The first of two (yes, two) special 29th May Birthday One shots. Happy Birthday Tony! Man, I missed writing for these guys in this timeline! This fits into SSB within “I Told You I Said Yes”.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“Fuck, Steve...” Katie groaned, her head tilting backwards as Steve gave another deep thrust upwards, “right there... Jesus.”

“Good?” Steve panted as his hands grabbed her waist, finger tips digging into the flesh that covered her hipbones.

She nodded, grinding on him faster, his hands pulling her down making sure he hit as deep as he could.

Their soft, intimate sounds filled the room and, wanting to be as close to her as he could get, Steve sat up drawing a gasp from Katie as he did so. His hands moved to her back. One splayed half way up her spine, the other cupped the back of her head. His fingers tangled in her long, silky hair as he pulled her face to his. He kissed her, hard, his tongue dominating hers as he swallowed her moan, one that rumbled in her throat as if it came from the depths of her belly.

They’d already danced this tango once already that night. After a few beers with the team in anticipation of Tony’s birthday (minus Natasha as she was still on something Fury was running), they’d retired and gotten a little frisky some two hours prior. But then Steve had woken, his super sharp hearing alerting himself to some form of ransom noise deep in the floors below them and, well, he couldn’t get back to sleep. So he’d hugged Katie close.

Too close.

As ever he was unable to control his reactions to his girl and had ended up with a boner. Meaning she’d woken with him basically rutting up against her back, feigning innocence when she’d given him a grumble at the fact he’d dragged her from her slumber.

She hadn’t been grumbling for long.

“Stevie... I’m gonna...” Katie’s forehead pressed into his, her mouth open as her lips hovered over his, and he thrust upwards again, his nose brushing hers softly, like the touch of a butterfly.

“Let go. Doll,” he panted, actively fighting his own high, “cum for me.”

Her chest heaved, pert nipples brushing his bare skin and her movements stuttered. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, which cracked into a half grunt, half moan as she felt herself go, her body positively floating from her high.

By the time she came round, Steve had also finished, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he gathered his breath. Katie collapsed forward with a soft chuckle, her forehead pressing into his collar bone as he fell backwards, taking her with him.

They lay still for a moment, the only sounds being their heavy breathing and the soft rustle of sheets as Steve pulled the bedding up around them. The smooth cotton brushing over her sensitive skin made Katie shudder a little. Steve smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple, his large hands running up and down her spine.

“Am I forgiven for waking you up?” He asked and she shrugged, not even bothering to try and find the strength to sit up. “It’s three AM. I’ll think about it.”

Steve chuckled and she sat up slightly, leaning down to give him a slow kiss.

“Love you.” she pulled back a little, her eyes shining in the dim light, and Steve smiled.

“Love you too.”

Fifteen minutes later they were both settled down and on the verge of sleep once more when a loud crashing in the apartment made them both sit bolt upright.

“What the...” Steve was out of bed in a flash, wrenching the door to their room open.

Katie was seconds behind him, stopping only to grab Steve’s shirt from the chair at the vanity. As she shrugged it on, she ran into the hallway and heard a familiar metallic whoosh. There was the squealing of metal on metal and Katie flicked on the light just in time to see a flash of blue, red and white as Steve’s shield flew back to his hand. He looked over to Katie as she stepped towards him, her mouth falling.

“Is that...” she glanced down at what looked like a version of one of Tony’s suits. It lay motionless on the floor in two pieces, Steve’s shield having severed it at the waist. The failing electrics sparked as the various boards and cogs died, before it fell silent.

Steve nudged it with his foot. It didn’t move. He turned to Katie, a frown on his handsome face.

“Did he tell you he was making them autonomous?”

“That’s nothing new, JARVIS has always been able to control them remotely.” Katie shook her head as she crouched down, her hand gently touching the helmet. She tried to move the face plate but it didn’t open. Rapping her knuckles on the skull, she was met with a solid sound, not the usual hollow echo.  “JARVIS?”

There was no reply.

“Why isn’t he answering?” Steve looked at her.

“Tony might have him down.” Katie answered. “He runs the updates at night some times. I do know one thing though.”

“What?” Steve asked as she stood up.

“That couldn’t have gotten in here without Tony letting it in one way or another.” She glanced at Steve, her pretty face full of annoyance. “Imma kill him, fucking idiot.”

She turned to leave and Steve gently caught her arm. “Honey...”

“Seriously? You want me to let this go?”

“Hell, no.” He shook his head, “I want you to wait for me to put some clothes on.”  

Despite herself, Katie grinned as her eyes scanned Steve’s naked body, his shield still on his arm. He rolled his eyes and nodded to the suit on the floor, “I’m going to give him his property back, along with a piece of my mind.” **** Tony spun round, his brow arching as Steve and Katie walked into the lab. But whatever smart quip he had been about to come out with died as he spotted what was slung over the super soldier’s broad shoulders. With a loud slam, Steve threw the two parts of the robot down on the desk.

“What did you do to it?” Tony moaned.

“Threw my shield at it.” Steve folded his arms over his chest, the sleeves of the white ribbed Tee he had shrugged on straining over his thick biceps.

Tony was that distracted by his destroyed robot that he failed to notice Katie stomping towards him. She drew her right fist back and punched him hard on the shoulder.

“Ow, Kiddo!”

“You dick!” She yelled. “What the hell were you doing sending that into our apartment?”

“Wanted to test your reaction to it.” Tony shrugged. “See how it came across.”

“How it ca- Tony, it’s half past 3 in the morning!” She shrieked.

“Exactly.” Tony scratched his beard. “Total element of surprise. I thought you guys would give me a base of how people would react to them. Can’t have been that well if Spangles felt the need to cut it in half with his frisbee.”

“We had no idea what or who it was.” Steve felt his anger beginning to rise, “what was I supposed to do?”

“I’ve told you before, big guy. Ask questions, throw shield later.” Tony shrugged, “I can’t believe you killed Iron Kid.”

“Iron Kid?” Katie blinked.

“Yeah, the name’s a working progress.”

“Tony, what is it?” Steve pressed.

“It’s a prototype.” Tony informed them. “I had the idea last week. The Avengers exploded after New York. You should see the piles of fan mail that the guys downstairs sort each day.”

“Less bragging, more explaining.” Katie narrowed her eyes.

“The point is, we attract attention. So I had a thought about something that could help keep the public at bay,” Tony gestured to the pile of metal, “we can use them to issue instructions, help aid the emergency services. Keep civilians out of the way.”

Katie and Steve looked at one another, and Steve hated to admit it but the idea made sense.

Sorta.

“Clearly I need to rethink a little.” Tony mused. “I mean if they freaked you out then...” “It freaked us out because it was in. our. apartment!” Katie groaned. “In the middle of the night.”

“That’s the point, it was supposed to have the element of surprise, wake you up.”

“Well there’s your first fuck up!” She hissed. “We were already awake-“

“Why?” Tony frowned

“Because we just finished a great, sweaty sex session.” She shot back and Steve groaned, feeling the heat in his neck as he looked down, his bare toes flexing against the cool floor of the lab. “And you wanna be grateful we had finished because if we hadn’t I’d be really, really mad. You get me?”

“That’s.. disgusting.” Tony wrinkled his nose.

“And you’re an asshole.” Katie shot back.

With a shudder, Tony moved and picked up a screwdriver. He turned the helmet up aside down and opened a small hatch at the back. Stooping slightly, he prodded and poked at something inside.

“Huh, least the main board wasn’t damaged.” He straightened up and turned to face them both. “So, other than scaring the shit out of you what was it like? Voice interface okay? Too much me or not enough me or-“

“There was no voice interface.” Steve replied.

“What?” Tony frowned, “JARVIS was supposed to be controlling it. It should have told you why it was there and-“

“Well he didn’t.” Steve rolled his eyes, his already stretched patience wearing dangerously thin.

“He didn’t...huh?” Tony frowned and Katie moved past him to a computer.

“Oh for the... he’s on mute you dumbass!” She tapped a few buttons and JARVIS’ voice rang out.

“Thank you Miss Stark.”

“Shit.” Tony gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry, buddy. Forgot I turned you off.”

“Mr Stark, may I suggest you call it a night, Sir? It is rather late and you’ve been awake for almost twenty-one hours. Miss Potts instructed me to ensure you-“ “And that is precisely why I did.” Tony rolled his eyes and Katie let out a growl of annoyance

“I’m done. Come on, Steve.”

She stalked towards the door and Tony looked up. “You not gonna wish me happy birthday?”

In response she raised the middle fingers on both her hands, flipping him off over her shoulders as she stomped out of the door.

Steve watched her go before she turned to Tony. “You know, I think you’re onto something. Keeping civilians away would make things a lot easier.”

“Wouldn’t it?” Tony nodded, eagerly. “We’d need a fleet of them, an Iron Fleet, no that’s... like i said, the names a work in progress.”

“We can discuss this tomorrow. Give it some proper though.” Steve took a deep breath. “Just don’t send any more into the apartment, please?”

Tony saluted him and Steve rolled his eyes. He turned to go before he stopped, and looked back at his friend.

“Happy birthday, pal.”

Tony snorted. “Cheers, Spangles.”

Tony watched Steve walk out of the lab, before he glanced back at the destroyed robot.

“Mr Stark... Miss Potts is awake...”

“Ahh shit.” Tony groaned. “How much trouble am I in?”

“I don’t think a Roman Legion would protect you.” JARVIS replied and Tony stilled, a huge grin spreading across his face.

“Iron Legion.” He tossed the screwdriver up in the air and caught it, chuckling. “JARVIS, you are a genius.”

“Why thank you, sir. And now I really must insist you go to bed.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m going. Lock everything down will you? Oh, and order us all breakfast from the diner on the corner of fifth.”

“Of course. The usual?”

“Yeah. Have it delivered about 10:30. Should be enough to calm Kiddo down.”

“Very wise Sir. I’ll ensure there’s extra bacon, just in case.”

“Yeah, who doesn’t love extra bacon?”

[agent-absinthe]

foreigner’s god pt. 1

marvel. bucky barnes/reader. canon divergent. heavy fic. 5k+

Blaire Briar gets through the day by telling herself that James Buchanan Barnes and the Winter Soldier are two different people.  It makes knowing he’s been pardoned and walking free easier for her to process.  Only when she’s forced to assist on a mission with him on the team roster her carefully constructed coping begins to crumble.  Forced to finally deal with their shared trauma Blaire and Bucky begin the difficult process of healing.  The process is made more difficult when Bucky realizes that despite everything he has feelings for her.

warnings: assault, rape/non-con, violence, blood, sexual content, language, No Snap AU

“Sir, I can’t take this assignment.”

Director Coulson looked up at the woman from his desk where he had been staring at the phone, currently on hold with Stark, a record 48 minutes now.

“That assignment requires your skill set, I would think after complaining of not feeling useful you’d be happy for the opportunity.”

“Sir,” she tried again- almost pleading, “I cannot take this.  Not with this team.”

He leaned back in the chair and considered the woman in front of him.  Special Agent Blaire Briar, who worked mainly as a grunt in Comms for recon teams.  Except when her special talent of Energy Vampirism brought her out into the field.  Although she wasn’t used often for the skill set, when it was needed she became invaluable.  Briar started out as an intern for Shield brought in by Maria Hill on a Stark recommendation- a series of personal traumas set off by Alexander Pierce led to her current position.

“The team was hand picked and is non negotiable.  Captain Rogers prefers to work with those he trusts and he says he needs you, this isn’t a request.”

“I have trauma with the Winter Soldier. I can’t-”

“Sergeant Barnes,” Coulson corrected feeling guilt at her desperate expression, “he was pardoned so as far as the government and all other agencies are concerned all reparations are paid.  Any personal feelings are just that- personal- and are to be dealt with in your own time.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You’ll be reprimanded and will most likely cost thousands of people their lives if not more.  I know that’s not something you want on your hands Agent, so just take the assignment.  You’ll be back in comms by the end of the weekend if all goes well.”

This was fucking bullshit. 

Blaire couldn’t see straight as she stomped down the hall back to comms, gripping the wall from a sudden bout of nausea that overtook her.  The folder was delivered to her in the afternoon by a security personnel and at first she had been thrilled to receive the assignment.  There were ruins on a small island off the coast of Ireland thought to contain a training base for Hydra recruits.  Files inside the base could provide names of remaining Hydra agents, contracts and agreements that the terrorist organization made, among other intel that could be incredibly useful.  It sounded interesting and she was itching to get out there and live a mission instead of listening in on one.

“Whoa, you ok?  Jesus, Blaire you look like you’re about to throw up.”  Hill’s voice sounded like it came from far away even when she put a concerned hand on her back.

“Tell me this job is worth it.”

“What?”

“I need you to keep me from walking the fuck outta here.  I can’t do this shit anymore, I can’t fucking do it.  I could be at Stark Industries or- or working with Strange or pouring goddamn drinks at Starbucks getting verbally abused by assholes.”

Her hands were on her knees now as she tried to focus on her breathing and stave off the panic attack building in her chest.  She was too young for this kind of stress.  Was any of this worth it?  The manilla folder containing her assignment was tossed to the floor, open on the team roster page so his name glared out at them. 

James Buchanan Barnes

When Maria saw the name she knew what was wrong immediately and knelt in front of Blaire, hands on her cheeks so she had to focus on her.

“Hey, hey, hey breathe for me, Briar.  That’s it.  Listen, they’re two different people- two completely different people.”

“I know that.  I know.”

“You can do this, you’re strong and I know for a fact that you’re too much of a bitch to let something stop you from doing your job, right?”

Briar laughed at that, the laughter dissolving into tears momentarily before she regained her composure, “right.” 

“You are the only one that can help them on that mission, you’re the one that’s gonna be calling the shots.  Now let’s go ahead and go down to development so we can get you measured for your gear.”

~

“Are you listening to me, James?”  Dr. Raynor asked with a forceful tap of her pen against the notepad to get his attention.

“Not really.”

She sighed and started writing waiting until he looked up with irritation before continuing, “I said done correctly this could be an opportunity for you to cross another name off the list.  Emphasis on done correctly.”

Bucky let out a breath he was holding in and turned to the window so he could pretend not to hear what Raynor was saying.  The therapist was right and so was Steve when he approached Bucky last week to let him know about who they needed for the recon.  He’d apologized to people he tried to kill easy enough, but it didn’t feel like there was a proper way to apologize for what he did to her.

“And what am I supposed to do when I see her?  Just walk up and say sorry?  It’s like you and Steve live in this perfect little world where forgiveness is just handed out the minute someone says sorry.”

“Steve and I live in the real world where we face our problems-”

“Oh, here we go.”

“-where we face our problems and hope that we can be forgiven for any harm caused.  You’ll be working with this girl so you will have to face it sooner or later, make sure Rogers is there when you do it if that will make you feel more comfortable.  That’ll be your homework until our next session- try to come to terms with what happened and make an effort to talk to Briar.”  

It was just the same shit Steve told him over and over.  Dr. Raynor sure as hell couldn’t know what he was going through even Steve didn’t understand this part of adjusting.  

Of atonement.  

When he closes his eyes and concentrates he can still see Pierce with a smile telling him about a “special” side mission, a “treat really”, that he wanted The Winter Soldier to complete.

Her apartment was quiet when he entered through the bedroom window to begin the first step of the mission.  Placing a small hidden camera in the framework of her gaming setup tucked in a corner across from the bed.  When he walked into the rest of the home he was stopped by a curious mew and looked down to find a fat, grey cat weaving between his legs.  The cat observed him for the rest of the camera placements and sweep of the apartment, disarming any weapons he found.  A loaded gun under the sink, a taser between couch cushions, and a knife on the bathroom vanity.  

“Your target’s not on her way yet so hang tight.  Fix the camera in the living room while you wait, I want it more focused on the couch and turn on your body camera.”  Pierce’s voice came over the earpiece sounding almost bored as he sat at his desk and looked through the new feeds.

He gravitated back to her bedroom when he wasn’t given another task finding that the room was pleasant to be in.  Warm and dim, smelling like the floral perfume bottle he inspected earlier.  The cat followed and jumped to the bed meowing at the soldier in annoyance when he didn’t pet him.  Something like muscle memory took over and Bucky lifted his flesh hand out to the cat who purred rubbing it’s face into the palm.

“Good cat.” He mumbled earning another meow and purr.

After a few more minutes of radio silence he sat, the mattress and box spring groaned under his weight and the softness felt foreign.  When another minute passed he leaned back in the unmade bed and didn’t move as a purring weight laid on his stomach.  It was all so...comforting.  Only when his eyes began to close did the earpiece screech on.

“Target’s in transit, be ready when she gets there-”

The front door opening interrupted Pierce, “Tikki!  Where is my fat little man?”

Tikki jumped off of him and he could hear the cat meowing to it’s owner as she walked to the kitchen, tossing her bags down on the way.  The woman looked normal enough to him, a little heavy for an agent but nothing he couldn’t handle.

“She’s worn out from training but we still don’t know how long her power can last.  You need to get the implant in her neck to block the absorption if she tries anything.”

Bucky fished in his utility belt for the dime sized, pronged disk and held it in his fist as he stalked closer to the kitchen.  She was singing to herself while stacking up dirty dishes to make room for a take out bag.

“Thank god I got there before they closed and yes they did give me some grilled chicken for you, Tikki.  Such a fat kitty, lucky you’re so cute.  Sure as hell don’t keep you around to pay rent, you’re a freeloader and you don’t even care!”

Pierce was telling him to proceed, but Bucky stood in the doorway and watched her set a small bowl down in front of Tikki who ignored it to eye him and meow louder, suddenly puffing up as if realizing that the strange man was now a threat.  

“What’s the matter you crazy cat?  That’s all you’re getting so deal with it.”  

A low growl and hiss.

“Jesus Christ, what?  Is there a fucking-”  She started and turned around only for her voice to die in her throat as they stared at one another.  

“Ok, Bucky?”  Dr. Raynor repeated.

“Ya ok.” 

~

This was it.  They were getting briefed this morning then they’d be flown out, Blaire could barely stand without shaking so she sat at her small cubicle in comms until it was time.  She should have known that Steve would try to play good guy and come find her.

“Hey, Blaire.”

“What do you want?”  

“Briefing is gonna start soon, thought we could walk down there together.”

“To make you feel better or me?”

The super soldier leaned against her desk and crossed his arms, “you know I wouldn’t put you in this position if I didn’t have to.  There’s no other way for us to get through those doors, trust me we’ve tried.”

“Let’s just get it over with.”  

She wasn’t trying to lash out at Rogers on purpose but it was hard to control her anger when she felt this shitty.  Steve and her used to be good friends, introduced by Tony who thought Blaire could make the soldier blush, they ended up balancing each other out nicely.  After what happened with the winter soldier and Shield they grew apart not talking unless Tony had a gathering they were both obligated to attend.  It was a loss on both ends when they stopped hanging out, the easy back and forth humor between them almost nonexistent now.  It was early enough in the morning that the pair walked in silence without many other agents around until Steve broke it.

“I know I don’t have any room to say this, but Bucky’s a good guy.  Begged me to find another way so you wouldn’t have to see him, tried to back out of the mission, he feels like shit about this and he wants to apologize to you.”

Blaire already knew where this was going, “and you’re the buffer?”

“His therapist suggested it.  Dr. Raynor.”

That wasn’t something she expected.  Therapy was a good sign, taking the therapist’s advice an even better one.  Blaire wasn’t stupid she knew that Barnes was under the influence of years of systematic abuse when he attacked her, practically brainwashed and nearly physically impossible for him to defy an order.  He was a victim too.  That’s what made being angry at him still so hard.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Steve opening the door to the conference room to see Barnes pacing.  The hair was shorter and the arm was new, but his body had the same heavy muscle and wide stance.  She found that she couldn’t look at him when they finally made eye contact, not directly anyway.  Focusing instead on the zipper of his gear or scruff on his chin.

He’s handsome.  Why the fuck does he have to be handsome? It wasn’t fair.  None of this was fair.  The world was playing some kind of fucked up joke for her to still be attracted to him.  That wasn’t new of course; she found him attractive since she first saw the winter soldier in photos and videos from the attack on Fury in Pierce’s office.  She had been standing there staring at the holograms when Pierce made an offhand remark about it, teasing her for her flushed cheeks.  Now that she knew he was the one who ordered the attack the memory made her boil with shame.

“Agent Briar.”  At least he was trying to be polite.

“Sergeant Barnes.”

“I-” he stopped, his adam’s apple bobbing with anxiety as he swallowed. “I am no longer The Winter Soldier, I am James Buchanan Barnes and you’re part of my effort to make amends-”

“Your therapist knows how to write a good script.”  Blaire interrupted.

Steve didn’t make a move to intervene and stayed off to the side sipping a coffee and watching.

“Look, I know that you were not in control of yourself when it happened and because of that you are also a victim in the situation,” she said it slowly trying to sound reasonable, “There isn’t a lot that you can apologize for.  Pierce is the one who owes me that and he’s been dead for a few years now so I doubt I’ll be getting it anytime soon.”

“Thank you for understanding, not a lot of people do, but I still have to tell you how sorry I am for the pain that I caused you.  I want to try to make things right or as right as they can be.”

“If you really want that then you’ll interact with me as little as possible.  Please understand that it’s not personal.  I just can’t fucking look at you.”

Barnes nodded quickly, the words cut him to the core in a way he had never experienced.  Yet he still apologized, still at least tried to make amends with Blaire and despite her blunt reaction he hoped Dr. Raynor would consider it a success.

“Yeah, of course.  I can do that.” 

Bucky thought he was doing a good job with it so far too.  He stayed in the flank of the group during the mission and got to see her work after she was able to duplicate an energy reading and get through to the bunker.  Three Hydra agents crumpled to the floor as soon as they rounded a corner to stop their progress, Briar released the pent up energy she absorbed from them at the next group they came across.  Leaving their bodies broken and bloody in a heap against a wall.  

“Hey, Cap why the hell did you drag me outta bed on a Saturday?  Looks to me like Miss Atom Bomb here’s got it covered.” 

“Miss Atom Bomb sounds like way too pretty of a hero name for me, Sam.”  She laughed tossing a smile back at the Falcon, “guys on the Strike team just used to call me Leech.”

“Those guys were assholes.”

“Ya, they were pretty awful most of the time.  M’not gonna be able to keep it up much longer though, I fill up on too much and I burn out quick.  I got a few more bursts in me before I start seeing doubles.”

The bunker ended up being an intel goldmine opening up several leads for the team to follow in their mission to eradicate Hydra once and for all.  Being part of that kind of adrenaline high in person had made Blaire even more dizzy than her burn out, no wonder field agents dreaded being behind a desk.  It wasn’t until they were strapped back in the plane with the sun rising that she was beginning to feel that same dread.  She was dirty and tired but helped more in this mission than she had almost her entire time in Communications.

“How ya feelin’, Briar?”

“Like shit, Romanoff.  How about you?”

Natasha laughed and handed her a rations bar, “good to see you out in the field.  Started feeling like the boy’s club for awhile.”

“How on Earth will you cope with my loss come Monday?”

“A quick word with Coulson and I won’t have to cope with anything.”  She offered.  Producing another rations bar from her pocket like a bribe.

“Nat, I can’t.  Look at me, I’m not fit for field work-”

“You just obliterated more than 50 guys in that bunker and I’ve seen your hand to hand combat, it’s not bad.”

“Ya but I’m about to fucking pass out now.  I mean- it’s complicated.”

The assassin stretched out and settled in next to Blaire trying to think of a way to talk her into it.  Wanda and Vision were off trying to live the domesticality that Tony now had, leaving their team bare bones.  There was no telling when or if Thor would show back up from trying to fix shit back home, they were missing a super and Blaire seemed the best fit.

“You wanna be in communication so bad then why don’t you be our guardian angel when we don’t absolutely need you in the field?  It would get you out of that cubicle more often anyway, sure we could talk Coulson into a pay raise too.  Plus you’ll get to listen to my voice and boss Steve around, what more could you want?”

“You’ve operated without a guide in HQ for so long.  No one’s gonna buy it.”

“They will if Golden Boy and Wings asks.”

Blaire took the second ration bar and rolled her eyes, “I’ll think about it.”

She ended up taking it of course once Nat wanted something she almost always got it, Blaire sure as shit wasn’t going to tell her no.  For the most part it started out really well with the exception of a few hiccups in finding her place on the field when it came to real action.  Off the field was a different story- Blaire knew how to operate a team in a way that both got the job done safely and felt like borderline workplace violence at the same time.  Bucky tended to be the target for the latter on most missions.

“You don’t listen!  Jesus fucking christ I am going to buy a goddamn adult tether backpack for you!  And ya know who’s gonna have to hold the leash?  Wilson!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa don’t drag me into this.  I’m doin’ my job.”

Bucky wanted to dig out the earpiece and throw it, “I still took care of it, didn’t I?”

“You fight like you have handlers still, Barnes.  News flash, you don’t!  I’m the one who has to file all the paperwork when you go off course on your own and cause mayhem and destruction like its the fucking Winter Soldier Show.”

All Bucky did was ignore her suggestion to not engage with the hostiles ahead until Natasha and Steve followed suit.  There were only three guys from what he could see and a hostage was waiting for them with time running out so he did what he thought was best.  There ended up being six instead of three and the hostage received a minor injury when he wasn’t able to get to them fast enough.

“Well, it’s over and done with now so could you just shut up?”

Everyone on the line went dead silent for a few seconds.

“Quinjet is waiting at the extraction point for pick up.  Good job team, we look forward to your safe return to the hanger.  Briar signing off.”  Came the calm check out.

Sam landed next to Bucky with a satisfied chuckle, “oh you fucked up big time, buddy.”

“I hate you.”

She wasn’t waiting for them like she usually did when they landed, coming in a few minutes later with a small med team in tow to look over injuries.  Barnes waved off the attempts to dab blood off of his brow where he caught a stray punch and focused on getting his gear off.  Blaire wasn’t about to let him off the hook just yet, still too blinded by her rage to consider letting them both cool off before talking.

“That’s the third time you ignored me when I told you not to run blindly into enemy fire.  What’s your problem, Barnes?”

“I’m not the one with a problem.”

“Are you kidding?  It’s like you do this shit on purpose just to piss me off.”

“I do!”  He yelled, turning around to make eye contact with her.  “The only time you ever acknowledge me is when I get you riled up.”

“Oh, you poor baby do I not pay enough attention to you so you feel like you gotta act out?”

Bucky dropped the rest of his gear and started towards her, already feeling his energy dropping with each step from her defense.  He didn’t let it show and only stopped when he was in front of her.

“You’re the one with the problem here.  How am I supposed to fix this when you won’t talk to me?  You won’t even look at me dammit!  I’m the only one making an effort and I can’t let go of it if you won’t.”

Their voices boomed in the near empty hanger as Steve was making his way over to break it up after releasing the rescued hostage over to medical, fearing that he may be too late to salvage their already rocky relationship.

“What do you want, huh?  You wanna hit me?  Go on doll, take a shot and get it out of your system.”  Bucky continued leaning down to her height tauntingly.

“Maybe I do.”

“Great, let’s go.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea-”  Rogers started.

“Stay out of it, Steve!”  They shouted in near unison before Blaire turned on her heel and began speed walking to the exit with Bucky right behind her.

The night air was shockingly cold against their flushed skin and it made Bucky think a little more clearly as the door slammed shut behind him.  Only when he went to say something Blaire caught him by surprise with a haymaker to his cheek.  Her punch held more power than he would have thought, momentarily knocking him off balance enough for Blaire to ram him.  The impact of their bodies knocked both down to the wet grass as they struggled until she was on top raining half pulled punches down that she didn’t follow through with.  Her hits fueled by emotion slowly got weaker and weaker until she slid off of him sobbing. 

“I didn’t get mandated therapy.  I lost my dignity and my job and my will to live in the span of a fucking week.”  She choked out, nails digging into the artificial turf. “Then everyone found out it was Pierce that put out the hit and all that footage was just uploaded to the Hydra file.  Oh don’t worry Blaire it’s classified it’s so classified but no we can’t delete it or anything sorry.  I can get into it, I can see that file and I only have level green clearance.  It’s just sitting there for anyone to look at it.  My coworkers, bosses, the fuckin’ guys in coding.  They can just type in credentials and watch me get raped.”

This must have been what Dr. Raynor meant by coming to terms.  Pulling everything ugly out to the open so they didn’t have to dance around it any longer.

He looked strange without any of the guns and knives strapped to him, but it was still The Winter Soldier.  Blaire knew that in an instant from the face mask strapped to him like a muzzle and the silver arm shining against his black modified jacket.  She was frozen. Never in her life had she experienced Freeze instead of Fight, but then again she couldn’t remember the last time she was this scared.  Thoughts ticked off in rapid fire until Tikki jumped up on the counter with a hiss breaking the spell.  She threw the take out bowl of hot matzo ball soup that he easily dodged and turned around to feel under sink for the gun only to find it gone.  A hand clamped something down on the back of her neck, his metal one coming down around her mouth like a vice when she yelled out for help.

“Any of your neighbors try to help they die.”

No, that wasn’t right. He sounded local, like he was from New York.  That wasn’t possible.  The metal crushing her jaw came off when she threw her elbow back with full force catching his ribs.  It came darting back out immediately and shoved her to the kitchen floor on her stomach, his heavy weight on her lower back and ass was crushing as he straddled her.

“Fuck off!  Better kill me because I’m not saying shit about anything.”  She growled trying to buck him off.

There was no answer only his body going still like he wasn’t sure of the next move himself.  Then the weight was gone and for a second Blaire thought that maybe she could get away or at least get to her phone on the counter and send a message to Shield.  It was when she tried crawling away that she felt his fingers hook into her shorts and jerk them down.

“No!”  More panic now than before.  The prospect of death was always looming over her working where she did, but not this.  Please anything but this.

With the shorts off she was rolled to her back as he straddle her hips, his hands trying to catch her wrists again while she fought.  Nails raked down his face and neck, leaving rivets of red and tearing off his mask as they went.  When Blaire caught sight of his face she knew it was over.  There was no emotion there, just a slack jaw and blown out pupils.  He was going through the motions like someone was telling him what to do, a machine being controlled by someone else.  When the soldier did catch her wrists and pin them down with his metal hand he went still again, staring down at her as blood dripped off his face.

“I don’t wanna do this.”  He suddenly announced maybe to her or to no one.

“You don’t have to!  Just leave, just get up and leave.  It’s not too late.”

She could hear the faint static buzz of someone screaming from his earpiece and then the slack look was back and her thighs were being kneed open.  It was happening so fast and Blaire found herself completely powerless, he had done something to her to stop her energy absorption and without that she was just some intern with a little gun training.  No amount of fight, of pleading, would help her now.  Somehow that was more terrifying than anything else.

“Stop it! Get off me, get off!  I’ll fucking kill you!” 

The threats sizzled out into broken shrieks as he thrust into her hard enough to hurt both of them with no prep.  Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes from the pain and violation, droplets of his blood now falling faster onto her as he moved.  Blaire tried catching his hip with her heel to get him off and keep fighting but the metal squeezed her wrists tighter in warning til they gave way with a crunch, his pace never slowing and only growing sloppier.  The pain was too much for her to even scream for help, not that she’d want to.  Didn’t need poor Miss Hoffman coming in here waving her cane to the rescue only to end up dead.

She looked past his blank face to stare at her kitchen ceiling focusing on the water mark in the corner she kept meaning to paint over.  His flesh hand came up to her face to cover and turn it away as if he didn’t want her looking at him.  The kitchen filled with the scent of soldier’s blood making her mouth taste like pennies.  Droplets of it felt like scalding water as it fell on her check and neck.  How long would it take to scrub his scent off?   Her body couldn’t seem to adjust fast enough to allow her any relief but by the grace of whatever cruel god watched the display his hips stuttered and stopped.  A sob bubbled up from the sensation- too hot and too full, seeping out of her before he even pulled out.

There was always a point in his missions where the targets gave in and stopped fighting.  He watched that happen with this one after he stood.  Watched her curl in on herself as she laid there crying with his cum dripping out of her and down the back of her thighs.  Then he was back to her bedroom window without retrieving his mask or the blocking device, no longer listening to whatever was coming through the earpiece.  Mind going absolutely haywire and telling him he just needed to get out.

“I’m sorry, Blaire.  I didn’t know.”  Bucky sat up with his own chest beginning to tighten at what she was telling him, it made him sick.

She cried harder and shook her head, “it’s not your fault, Barnes.  No matter how much I want it to be so I wouldn’t feel so shitty for hating you.  It’s not your fault.”

Without thinking Bucky leaned over and wrapped an arm around Blaire pulling her to his chest.  She tensed at first but relaxed and returned the hug when she felt him begin to shake too.  So they sat together on the wet turf and cried until Steve managed to herd them back inside thankful they hadn’t killed each other. 

Bucky kept a hand on Briar’s shoulder as they entered, “Are we good?”

“Ya, we’re good.”  She clapped him on the back and then punched his arm as an after thought, “but if you ever tell me to shut up during a mission again I’ll tell your therapist and make sure you have to go to sensitivity training.  This doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“I’ll only get a rise out of you when I want you to yell at me then.”

He watched her roll her eyes and could have sworn he saw the corner of her mouth turn up into a smile.  That made him smile too and Bucky felt a new sense of ease.  Unsurprisingly at his next session with Dr. Raynor he found it easier to open up.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 11 (Peter Parker x Fem!Oc)

A/N: Iron man 2 ends here!

Words: 2,191

Masterlist

Chapter 10

“So, if someone decided to build an armor like yours. Could  do it without having your workshop?"

"Put down my things, Kid,” answers Tony from the other end of the call.

"It's not my fault you have a mess.”

"Shouldn't you just sit still watching TV like any other kid?"

"I don't want to see Hammer showing off his toys," She complains.

When Tony managed to stabilize the reactor, he asked Jarvis to assemble his armor, but, with the remodeling and the little time to prepare everything, some pieces were loose, so Lily did not hesitate to check them. One of them is shaped like a huge pill.

"Dad, what’s this?"

“Don't touch it. When everything’s over, I will explain…”

"But-"

"I'm already at the Expo, I'll inform you in a few minutes," He hangs up.

She pouts.

"Jarvis, do you know what this works for?"

“At a distance, it emits a light capable of blinding anyone for a few seconds, and if the button is pressed it releases an electric shock. It is not lethal.”

“Cool."

She returns to a monitor screen when the Iron Man armor arrives at the Expo. The audience goes wild and Hammer tries not to look surprised, pretends to get excited. Tony walks up to him.

She can't hear what Tony says, but what Justin says everybody can hear it.

"What?" He asks from his microphone. “Who? What are you doing here, man?" He asks smiling. "Hey, it's not fair that you want to remove me from the spotlight, after all, this is your expo, right?" The audience just screams. Hammer's smile disappears and he sneers at Tony. "Or do you want to make another important announcement?"

From their seats, Natasha and Pepper look at both of them confused. Tony keeps talking, but from one moment to the next, Hammer pulls away and claps his hands.

“Of course, I will break the news, dear Tony! It would be a great honor. Dear friends, the great Tony Stark has traveled here to tell us that he has become a father!”

People are surprised and murmur.

"Oh no,” says Lily looking at the screen.

“Oh, but don't worry, it's not that it was just born. As far as we know, his daughter must be six years old. The best kept secret! Couldn't even keep it in his armor,” He teases.

"I'm eight, you idiot!” She yells.

“What a joy that Tony confessed all this to me, very few people knew about it, like an important Vanity Fair reporter, who had already seen the girl at Tony's mansion. Congratulations Anthony!"

Tony can't take it anymore and grabs Hammer by the collar of his shirt, lifting him a few inches off the ground, but everything changes when the armor for the army that Hammer was presenting along with the one the colonel is wearing point their weapons at Tony.

The programming ends when Iron Man rises and exits through the roof of the Expo, as the armor shoots in his direction.

Colonel James Rhodes and Tony maintain a call trying to warn each other of the possible attacks that the other droids may have as they have no control of any of them. Rhodes can see on his screen the location of each droid, one catches his eye.

“Tony," He calls with difficulty. "One of them changed course.”

"Where?"

"To your house.”

“Shit."

***

"Isn't there something else in the news about my dad?" Lily asks towards the AI.

"Not yet, Miss Stark.”

She sighs and leans back in the chair.

"An unknown object is approaching at high speed,” reports Jarvis. It's a droid that was at the Expo.

"Initiating the ‘Baby in trouble’ protocol.”

"Wait, what?"

The lights get off.

“The intruder's course stabilizes. He will enter through the terrace,” informs Jarvis low enough for only Lily to hear.

Lily can hear her own heartbeat and thinks about what she can do. She doesn't know what that protocol can do, but she can't stand idly by.

‘I don't think the hands thing will work again,’ She thinks feeling her hands tingle. Also, Fury had advised not to use it until she could control it. To tell the truth, since he explained it to her she is more afraid. But an idea comes at the right time.

"Jarvis, will it go down to the workshop?"

"Affirmative. He’s already on the property,” at that moment a loud knock is heard.

Lily does not waste time and goes to the desk, she takes the huge pill that she had seen before. She goes to the entrance of the workshop, she counts a few steps, calculating the distance that the droid could possibly be and hides the device in a place close to the ground.

"At that distance, there are great chances that the device will be activated.”

“Perfect."

But she needs something more. She grabs some leftover cables from the remodel, ties them up a short distance from where she put the device, and runs to the other side, hiding in the rubble.

Strong footsteps make her shudder.

"Incoming call from Mr. Stark," Jarvis reports.

"Now I can’t," replies Lily.

Her breath is cut off when the droid destroys the glass at the entrance.

"Please work…”

The droid walks into the workshop and checks the entire perimeter. Lily watches him from her hiding place. As the droid approaches the device, a strong light starts and she complains putting her hand over her eyes.

The light was not enough and the noise she made helped the droid locate her. Lily looks up and notices that the droid is pointing a gun at her. She runs dodging the shots, hiding behind the wall where the prototypes of the armor are.

She hears the droid approaching.

"Come on, brain, think!” She says agitated, feeling the sweat run all over her body. She must return to the entrance to activate the shock.

She inhales and exhales with difficulty and runs to the other side of the wall. The droid follows her closely. Lily runs to the device and grabs it, but before she can turn, the armor grabs her by her shirt and lifts her up. She squeals, closes her eyes, presses the button and throws it at him.

The discharge causes the armor to fail and release it. Lily watches her not quite sure if it worked. Some lights on the droid flicker, but after a few minutes they return to normal.

"Plan B!” She places her hands on the chest of the armor and orders her body to make all the fire come out to destroy the armor. She closes her eyes.

The fire spreads uncontrollably burning every circuit, however, before she gets any further, it raises its metal arm and tries to hurt her, but something interrupts it.

“Protocol activated,” Jarvis reports, then launches several projectiles at the droid. Lily listens, sees the projectiles, and runs away quickly.

Within seconds, the armor begins to shake uncontrollably. A light comes off the droid. She backs away not knowing where to go. The light becomes more powerful, blinding her. The floor shakes making her fall, she raises her arms to protect herself and a roar shakes the place.

After a few seconds, she opens her eyes. The armor is lying not far from her, some things around are destroyed, this is not what surprises her, but the thin orange layer that covers the perimeter, only a few centimeters outside her body. Her hands are still in the air, her chest rises and falls agitated.

Lily lowers her arms and the cloak that protected her disappears. She sees her hands.

“Cool."

She carefully stands up, looks at the droid, and kicks it lightly.

"Ha! See what I did to you?" She says she confidently and then laughs. "I did it!"

Everything’s interrupted when the arm of the armor falls, scaring the girl. She screams and then runs off to the first floor of the mansion.

***

While Lily stops one of the droids, Natasha is tasked with helping Tony regain control of Rhodes' armor. When she succeeds and warns him of the other attacks, Tony warns her that one of them went to the mansion. The redhead, after finishing her work as a hacker, returns with Happy to the Stark residence.

“Lily? Lily!"

"Here!" She can be heard from the kitchen.

Natasha runs up there and watches the little door under the sink. The girl looks out. The redhead frowns, but she can't help but smile.

"Nobody checks under the sink,” She walks out of there carefully. Happy also walks into the kitchen and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees her. He runs up to her and carries her into her arms with a big hug.

"I was very worried.”

"Imagine how I was,” She answers, moving away a bit still in Happy's arms.

"And the droid?" Nat asks.

"In the workshop, I uh- I took care of him," She’s proud of what she did, but she still feels her body tremble with fear. "But I'm not 100% sure if he's still the same.”

"I'll take care of it,” says Nata walking towards the stairs

"Wait," says Lily. “Be careful where you step. Someone may or may not have vomited in the entrance hall.”

"Got it,” says Nat laughing.

The redhead looks with shock at the whole droid disaster and informs her superior about what happened, then she tells Tony and Pepper that the little girl is fine.

"Nice work, kid,” She says smiling.

Lily stays in the living room along with Happy.

"Are you sure you don't want to sleep?

"I want to wait for Tony and Pepper," She says with a yawn. "Can we eat something?"

"Sure, what do you want?"

"A cheeseburger,” Happy laughs.

***

After all the disaster at Stark Expo, Tony is taken to a small makeshift S.H.I.E.L.D. barracks. He waits for Fury on the other side of a desk with multiple screens on the sides.

On the desk are two folders, obviously Tony couldn't resist taking one of them. Avengers Initiative: Preliminary Report. But before he can open it, Fury stops him.

“I don't think I want you looking at that. I'm not sure it pertains to you anymore,” says the director sitting down. "Now this, on the other hand, is Agent Romanoff's assessment for you," He adds, handing her the other folder.

Tony opens it.

"Uhhh. Personality overview. Mr. Stark displays compulsive behavior… In my own defense, that was last week,” Fury stares at him. “Prone to self-destructive tendencies. I was dying. I mean, please. And aren't we there? Textbook narcissism? ...Agreed. Recruitment assessment for Avenger Initiative. Iron Man? Yes. I gotta think about it.”

"Read on.”

“Tony Stark not… not recommended? That doesn’t make any sense. How can you approve me but not approve me? I got a new ticker. I'm trying to do right by Pepper. I’m in a stable-ish relationship — even the girl and I are on good terms, she’s already starting her training.”

“Which leads us to believe at this juncture we’d only like to use you as a consultant,” explains Fury. "And another thing,” He adds, handing him another folder.

Tony frowns.

"Why did Agent Romanoff evaluate my eight-year-old daughter?"

“Read."

Tony obeys and only reads important words out loud like ‘Fear', 'Potential' ‘Training', ‘High IQ’.

“Recruitment assessment for Avenger Initiative. Lily Stark. High potential?” He looks up. "You want to recruit her?"

“She has better results than you.”

“She's just a kid.”

"That at some point we will need. There’s the report of what she managed to do with the droid and you already have our instructions.”

Stark sighs and stands up. He shakes Fury's hand.

"You can't afford us," He says and then walks towards the exit, but in the end he turns around. “Then again, I will waive my customary retainer in Exchange for a small favor. Rhodey and I are being honored in Washington and we need a presenter.”

"I'll see what I can do,” answers Fury.

***

"It is my honor to be here today to present these distinguished awards to Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes and Mr. Tony Stark, who is, of course, a national treasure.”

"That's cheating,” Lily whispers to Pepper.

"It was a favor," She replies, shaking her head, seeing how both men are awarded.

"It's still cheating.”

At the end, everyone claps, takes photos, and celebrates. Pepper and Lily are escorted away to congratulate them.

"Everyone looks at me and takes pictures of me," She complains after hugging her father.

"It must be because of that dress," Tony points out. The girl looks at him annoyed. “I'm kidding. You'll get used to it.”

"Mr. Stark!" says a photographer approaching. "A photo with your daughter?"

Tony looks down, waiting for a response from the girl, who just shrugs.

“Sure," says the man.

Tony arranges Lily to be next to him.

“Smile," He tells her.

The first official photo confirming the existence of the only daughter of eccentric billionaire Tony Stark, is now on every cover of magazines, internet portal and television channel.

Lily Stark will return in The Avengers

Taglist

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[formeandmyfics]

Jugenea Fic

IN STITCHES

just a short, random, fun one

1956

New Frontier Hotel

Vegas

It was nearing 4 a.m. when Judy turned out the lamp on the nightstand and snuggled into the feather-down comforter of her hotel bedroom. The darkness, along with the fresh, cool sheets, made her immediately drift off into sleep. As she did so, her mind replayed tonight's events.  

She was nearing the end of her contracted show at the hotel. Every show had been a success, and with such a great audience, she was having a blast. Unfortunately, that morning, she had come down with laryngitis. She could speak alright; singing, even a slow melody, her voice had come out raspy and trying any loud or high notes sounded like a good impersonation of Mickey Mouse. She panicked. She could not cancel that show, not just because of financial aspects with the hotel, but because she didn't want to have newspapers write more false claims as to why she cancelled, which some columnists had gotten almost venomous since she left MGM. Most importantly, she also didn't want to disappoint her fans.  

With Gene's quick thinking, he contacted their buddy Jerry Lewis, whom was in town, and begged him to help Judy out. Fortunately, he came through, but told both of them, "I'm scared shitless. I don't know what to do out there." Judy was nervous, too! She didn't know how the show would pan out or how the audience would react.

Gene had said to her, "They just want to see you. That’s all. You can sit at the edge of the stage and talk to them about the weather and they'd be happy. That's how magnetic you are, so go and use it. Go out there with Jer' and just have fun."

Jerry did his comedy bits, bantered with Judy, leaving her in hysterical laughter, and they interacted with the audience. Jerry also sang some of her songs, in her normal arrangements, including 'Rock-A-Bye' with Judy as his personal cheerleader by his side. The crowd didn't mind at all that she couldn't perform. It was a very intimate evening, and all-in-all, a smash. She was so very grateful.  

After the show, she had a late dinner with Gene and a few friends, including Frank and Lauren, who surprised her by showing up to the show. By 2 in the morning, more people started coming around their booth in the bar and the noise was too much for Judy's exhaustion. Gene wanted to stay there with Frank a bit more so he told her to get some sleep. Giving him a kiss goodnight, she went up to the room. After reading a book, she finally got sleepy and head to bed. And boy, it felt marvelous.  

In the downstairs lobby, Lauren shook her head, annoyed, as she walked hastily up to the front desk in the hotel's lobby.

"May I use the house phone, please?"

The receptionist nodded, "Here you are ma'am," then placed the phone on the corner for her.

"Thank you." She immediately dialed the Kelly's hotel suite. When there was no answer, she dialed again, but no answer.  

"Dammit, Judes," she murmured as she clicked the phone down. She hoped Judy hadn't taken a sleeping pill.  

The Kelly's suite was quiet, and dimly lit, as Lauren entered with Gene's key. The double doors to the bedroom were shut, no light coming from beneath them, so Lauren knew Judy was dead asleep. Still, out of curtesy, she knocked before entering. Walking over to the empty side of the bed, she turned on the lamp there.

“Judy,” with no response, Lauren kneeled on the bed and leaned over to softly shake her friends arm, “Judy. Wake up, hun.”

She stirred before turning, a puzzled look on her face, clearly still more asleep than wake, “Betty?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“What are you doing in my room,” she asked sitting up.

“Something’s happened. Are you awake?”

“What time is it?”

“4. You gotta get up. Gene’s got himself in a dilly,” Lauren said getting off the bed to grab Judy’s silk robe which hung over the vanity chair.

“What do you mean,” she asked alarmed.

“Some drunk asshole kept running his mouth and Gene kept antagonizing him. It ended in a brawl and Gene cut his arm pretty bad.”

Judy bolted out of bed putting her robe on, “Oh my God. Is he alright?”

“He’s okay, but the cut’s pretty deep. He won’t stop bleeding. The bartender gave him a rag to hold on his arm. I told him he needs stitches but he won’t stop arguing with me,” Lauren said as she followed Judy into the living room.

“Where is he now?”

“Downstairs with Frank talking to the house detective.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Judy said upset, “What should I do? I can't go down there like this. Lord knows what would come out in the papers if someone saw us.”

Just then there was a knock on the door and Lauren went over and opened it. Gene came in first, and irritatingly nudged Frank’s hand off his back, as he did so.  

“Gene, what the hell have you done now?”

“I’m fine,” he said upset himself before he plopped onto the sofa.

“You’re not fine. You need stitches.”

“I don’t need fucking stitches, Betty. I told you that.”

“Please don’t talk to her like that, let me see,” Judy said sitting next to him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lauren replied unphased, “He’s cranky and has a gash the size of the Grand Canyon. I think it’s all the blood loss that’s messed with the tone in his voice.”

Judy tried not to smile at Lauren’s sarcasm, but Gene shot her a dirty look as if they were siblings. When Judy got the rag off of his arm carefully, she looked at her husband horrified.

“For Christ sakes, Gene.”

“Baby, I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay. You’re still bleeding. Look at the damn rag. It’s soaked,” she cried out.

“He needs a hospital.”

“He’s not going to a hospital because that’s dramatic and a waste of time,” Frank cut in, “Just call the house doctor.”

“I’m not taking him to the hospital or calling the house doctor,” Judy said getting up and walked across the room towards the phone, “If this gets out, people will think he came down with a Judy Garland ailment.”

“Judy,” Gene yelled shocked, then shot her a look over his shoulder, “That’s not funny.”

With the phone to her ear, she waved him off, clearly had been poking fun at her own expense.

“Who are you calling,” Frank asked.

“Tom Jacobs. He came to see the show tonight and is staying at the hotel,” she said of their doctor friend, a prominent Beverly Hills physician, “Maybe he can come look at Gene.”

“You’re going to wake him up at four in the morning,” Gene asked.

“Yes, so my husband doesn’t bleed to death...Hi, Tom? Hi, it’s Judy. I’m so sorry to wake you up, but I don’t know what to do. I’m alright, but Gene’s got himself in a pickle. He cut his arm pretty bad and we think he need stitches...”

“I DON’T NEED STITCHES,” Gene yelled interrupting her.

Judy continued, looking at her husband upset and yelled back at Gene covering the receiver with her hand, “He DEFINITELY needs stiches! Ok. Yes. Room 209. Thank you, darling. Buh bye.”

She walked on back over to Gene and sat down next to him again, “Why did you antagonize him, especially when you know he’s a drunk. You know I hate that stuff,” she said in a stern, wifely manner.

“If you heard the things he was saying, you would have thrown your martini in his face,” Gene retorted leaning his head back against the couch tired.

“Judging by what he was saying, she would have thrown it on his crotch,” Frank agreed.

“How hammered are you,” Judy asked.

“Scale?”

She sighed impatiently, “1-10.”

“4.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“No,” Lauren interrupted, “He didn’t drink that much.”

“I can attest,” Sinatra added.

When Gene rolled his head to look at her with a ‘see’ expression, she smiled, softening.

“What did the house detective say,” Lauren asked her buddy next to her.

“Threw the guy out and I sweet-talked him and he let us go,” Frank quipped quite proud.

“Are you in pain,” Judy asked sweeping some of his hair back with her fingers.

“No. Can't really feel my arm right now.”

“Can you feel this,” she asked and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“That I can definitely feel.”

When the doctor came, Lauren and Frank said their goodbyes to give them privacy. Tom looked Gene over and took his vitals.

“Well, here’s the deal, bud,” Tom said, “Your vitals are great. Your blood pressure is just a little high but that’s to be expected after what happened. And your wife is right. You definitely need stitches.”

“Fuck,” Gene said to himself.

Judy looked at Tom and whispered, “He hates needles.”

“Tell ya what, pal, I’m gonna give you some happy juice so while I suture you up, you won’t feel a thing.”

Judy lit herself a cigarette as the doc worked on Gene’s stitches, who looked like he was asleep. She paced slowly back and forth. The movement caught Gene’s eye and his head slowly rolled to look at her. He tried focusing his eyes a moment, and when he did, he made a silly grin.

“Hey, you.”

Judy stopped in her tracks and looked over at him, exhaling.

“How are you feeling?”

“Come here,” he said and reached his free arm out towards her, lazily.

“Gene, don’t move, please,” the doc said looking through his magnifying glasses.

Judy immediately went over and took that hand so he wouldn’t continue to move.

“You’re beautiful.”

Judy let out a surprised chuckle, “Even at the crack of dawn, huh?”

“Is that what it is?”

“Pretty much.”

“You look familiar.”

Judy’s eyes widened and she looked up at Tom who just smiled not lifting his eyes, “Don’t worry about him. It’s the same effect as if he’s coming off anesthesia. He’ll be fine.”

“Well, you look familiar, too,” Judy played along.

“I’m Gene Kelly,” he stated proudly, but still with a slurred speech.

“Nice to get reacquainted, I’m Judy Kelly.”

His smile faded and he furrowed his eyebrows, “We have the same last name? Oh, no, you're not my sister are you?”

Judy let out a laugh but quickly cleared her throat, “No, darling, I’m your wife.”

“What’s your maiden name?”

“What an odd question. You want my maiden name or my given name?”

“Pick.”

“Well, you probably remember me more as Judy Garland.”

“Wait,” Gene went to sit up but Judy pushed him back, “I married Judy Garland?”

“Yeeeees,” she teased.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled to himself which made her laugh again.  

“Oh my goodness,” she giggled.

“How long we been hitched?”

“5 years.”

“How can I not remember this? Where have I been this whole time?”

“You’ve been with me...dancing me off my feet and giving me two little Kelly’s.”

“We got kids?”

“Yes, sir,” she said reaching for her cigarette again, “A four-year-old girl and a one-year-old boy.”

“Can I see them?”

“I’m sorry, darling,” she giggled feeling a tad uncomfortable with her husband’s temporary amnesia, “Your parents came and took them home with them a few days ago. We’ll be with them again next week when we leave here. Tom,” Judy said a bit worried, “How long is this going to last?”

“Oh, it’ll wear off in about an hour, if not sooner. It’s a completely normal reaction, Judy, don’t worry yourself.”

“I’m worried he’ll want to re-do our honeymoon and have two more kids in that next hour since he can’t remember,” she teased.

They both suddenly heard Gene softly snoring and Judy felt relieved.

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that. He’s going to have a very restful night’s sleep.”

“He’s such an idiot sometimes,” she said looking at her cute, sleeping husband, “But he’s my idiot.”

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Five [PT. 1]

Part Eighty-Five [PT. 2]

Words: 5.5k

Warning(s): explicit language, explicit sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse

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NIKKI

My lawyer looks completely unimpressed with my lack of shoes, shirt, and dignity as he leans back in his chair behind his desk, rubbing his temples. 

"It doesn't work like that, Nikki, I'm afraid." He informs me finally, sitting up and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk. 

"I was declared dead for two minutes. I died. My wife's technically a widow." 

"You can't annul a four year marriage on the basis of 'I died for two minutes.' Some cases of actual death, it can take an act of congress for widow or widower to have an annulment for a marriage where their spouse is no longer alive, legitimately." He explains and I roll my eyes. 

"So, what, I just get some divorce papers or something?" 

"Unless I declare mental incapacity given that you went through a traumatic series of events within the last twenty-four hours and this could possibly be a very serious lapse in judgement." He argues and I stare at him.

"Stop pulling my dick." 

"I'm not 'pulling your dick.' I just don't want you to make this decision and then regret it when your head clears." 

I managed to wear him down and by the next morning, he left the papers by Tommy's door after Vince mentioned to me that Viv stayed over there with Tommy and Heather.

When I get home, Karen opens the door and looks at me, wide eyed and confused. 

"H-Hey?" She says as I push past her and go to the phone, opting to change my answering machine. 

"Hey, it's Nikki." I say. "I'm not here because I'm dead." 

Karen just looks at me, astounded, and I go to my room, slamming the door. 

I was good and tired and glutton for punishment because I got home that night and loaded up the biggest shot of smack I could muster and pulled the trigger.

I wake up with a sharp pain in the crook of my arm, a needle still in my skin as blood trails my forearm to collect in my palm...Jesus fucking Christ, I've officially lost it. 

I take the needle out and force myself up to trudge to the living room to check my messages. 

Things like, "You're an asshole," and "that's not funny," tend to be the common theme. 

I guess I need to change my answering machine. 

I comb through to see if I have anything from Viv. 

Now would be a good time to hear her bitch me out for almost making her kill herself--because, lets face it, she's gonna blame it on me, anyway. 

Nothing's found, though. 

"Fuck, Vivian." I sigh out, sitting on the carpet in the living room, rubbing my forehead as a new message comes on…

"You fucker, you would be the one to fucking OD and die and then get up right after and file for divorce as if she doesn't have enough shit going on, already." 

I furrow my brows at the voice. 

"Axl the Twat?" I say aloud, confused, as he finishes with, "fuck you, you fucking fuck." 

He hangs up and I raise my brows. 

Did I die and wake up in a parallel universe? Axl defending Vivian? 

Is this hell? 

It cuts to the last message. 

"Hey, umm...I don't know if you'll get this or not or if…" Vanity. "...I don't know what's going on but I heard something terrible on the radio and I suppose it was true--well, kind of, um…" she sighs. "We're not together anymore and I get that I just hope you're o--"

"Fuck that." I grumble, hitting delete. 

I fall back and I look up at myself. 

It's fucked that I bought this fucking house for Viv, and she's not even staying in it anymore. 

I feel like I promised her so much and haven't given a damn thing to her except reasons to want to throw herself off of balconies.

I look down at my arm, dried blood still on my skin. 

I'm fucking tired of this shit. 

I let my complete exhaustion of being sick fuel me to dig through everything I own and throw out all of my rigs, any other drugs in my path, and even pour everything to get drunk off of down the sink--even the fucking cooking-wine. 

Vivian's somewhere catching the holy spirit, probably, just sensing I'm finally fucking done. 

Or she's somewhere in tears over me finally taking the final step to end our relationship. 

I feel like it's dead in every way aside from legal. 

Whisky's laying by the door, whining when I step over him to go throw the big garbage bag out. 

I'd get down there and whine for her, too, but I know this is what needs to be done. 

Our entire relationship has just been one giant clusterfuck, and I don't want to put her through the bullshit of having to try to forgive me and trust me, again. 

I think I've already stolen enough of her peace of mind. 

She'll be happier with Duff, anyway. He's a good guy. A hell of a lot more suited for her than I am. 

My hand rubs the back of my neck and I realize I'm still wearing the small crucifix of her's. 

I'm tempted not to give it back. 

I just sigh and throw the trash out and get back in the house, getting in the shower. 

When I get out, I ruffle a towel through my hair, seeing the light blinking on my answering machine. 

I go over and try to keep myself from getting too excited at the thought of it being Viv before I hit play on my messages. 

"Nikki, it's Doc. I know you feel like horseshit right about now but I need you to come down to the office at 5:00p.m., we're getting you guys together because we need to talk. See you then--preferebly kinda sober and coherent." 

Turns out I'll have my ass chewed by Doc before Viv, after all. 

I know he came down to the hospital and tore Slash and the guys new ones while I was unconscious. 

I'm digging in my garbage for a couple pills to dull down my future shakes that I just know are gonna be coming before sundown. 

Despite being not in shape to fucking drive anywhere, I still go because I know if I don't go, Doc will come here and I don't need him here. 

It's morbid walking into the office to see Vince, Tommy, and Mick sitting and waiting for me while Doc sits behind his desk. 

"Fuck me." I complain out loud, dreading what Doc's about to go on about. 

"Sit." Doc tells me and I plop down beside Tommy, sighing, and Doc waits a minute before saying, "I canceled the European tour."

"What?" Vince asks and Mick furrows his brows. 

"What the fuck, Doc--"

"--Shut the fuck up and listen." He cuts me off while Tommy nervously shakes his leg. "If you bastards go to Europe, one of you will come back in a body bag. And I'm not gonna be the fucking manager that runs Mötley Crüe into the ground." He states harshly. 

"That's a fucking first." I laugh out, meanly, and Doc glares at me. "Guess dead rockstars don't make as much money as alive ones, huh? I coulda told ya that after Razzle--"

"--Nikki." Mick states. 

"Where's my wife?" I snap next. 

"Oh, the one you so stupidly filed for divorce from without giving me a heads up first? Probably with her friends that haven't put her through the ringer and fucked her over time and time again." He states. 

"I didn't know I needed permission to make decisions in my personal life--that have nothing to do with Mötley Crüe." 

"Are you two just gonna argue or are we gonna actually talk about why we're here because I have things to do." Vince grumbles. 

"Tommy came to me and told me he's thinking about rehab." Doc tells us and I glance at Tommy, who's avoiding looking at anybody. "I'm not taking Mötley Crüe on tour again, in a studio, whatever, until you guys get your act together." 

We all look at each other, exhaling, and I rub my lips together. 

"Fine." Vince sighs, and Doc looks at Tommy.

He nods. 

"Nikki?" Doc asks and I just stare at him. 

The guys are gone in a few minutes, leaving just me and Doc and I stand up. 

"I wanna see Viv." I tell Doc as he digs through some files, and he looks up and blinks from behind his desk, 

"She said she's not seeing you until you get help." Doc states. 

"She says that but I bet I could find her tonight and still get her under me in less than three minutes." 

"Assuming she's not still under Duff." Doc says and I tense up. "You think I didn't notice how questionably close they got on tour?" He adds. 

"She's going through a crisis." I reply. 

"Can't imagine why." He mumbles. 

"Just tell me where she's at, Doc." I snap. 

"You look like shit. You need to go home and get some fuckin' rest because you're all checking in tomorrow afternoon." He adds. 

"I'm not going anywhere until I see my wife."

"You mean the wife you filed for divorce from?" He questions and I roll my jaw. "Your wife is resting. You should, too."

1981

I fumble for my key to the apartment, cussing under my breath when I can't get the door opened. 

"Motherfucker." I hiss, finally getting it unlocked and shoving it open…

I slam it shut and toss my keys across the room, hearing Tommy and Vince's room door creak open. 

Vivian crosses her arms, a scowl on her face, her hair tousled from sleep. 

"Could you be any louder?" She snaps, shutting the door behind her, going to the kitchen.

My eyes run up and down her long legs as she heads that way, only in one of Tommy's t-shirts and panties. 

Fuck. Me. 

I go to grab the bottle of Jack on the counter, taking a sip as she gulps some water down, a droplet escaping the glass as she drinks, rolling down her chin to her neck and I watch it, my burning throat getting dry as I try to pull myself together, my prick starting to push against my pants. 

Damnit. 

It's like the sane part of myself is trying to slap the hopelessly horny part of me. 

She's fucking evil, dude, fuck off, I tell myself. 

She's hot. 

You hate each other. 

I wonder what weird shit she's into in bed. 

She's a bitch. You know she's a bitch. Leave her alone. 

Oh, I forgot she's supposedly a virgin.

Go to bed, dumbfuck. GO TO BED. 

That means I get to watch her experience stuff for the first time.

I end up chuckling, amused at the thought of seeing her pretty eyes roll in her head as pleasure bombards her for the first time. 

"What?" She snaps, and I realize I've been staring at her. 

I'm about to answer until I get caught up at the sight of her nipples peering through her shirt...fuck me. 

"Nikki," she shoves at my shoulder, making me take my eyes off of her chest.

She just scoffs. 

"Go touch yourself in the bathroom or something. Jesus." She puts the glass down and walks past me to go back to Tommy's room.

See? Evil. 

I ignore the voice of reason and I catch her wrist and stop her, yanking her closer to me. 

She looks like a deer in headlights for a minute before I'm grabbing at her hair closest to her neck and pulling her to me, kissing her. 

It's a pretty clean kiss, no tongue, no mess, just testing the waters. 

She doesn't push me away or beat me up like I always thought she would do, instead, when I pull away for a moment, she takes a breath, wide eyed, before grabbing me by my jacket, pulling me back in. 

I'm surprised but I don't let it get in the way, taking lead a little to guide her. 

For someone who's never been kissed before (again, allegedly) she's not awful at it like I expected--well, I didn't expect her to be awful because she's never kissed anybody, I expected her to be awful because she's so mean to me. 

Her hands push my jacket off my shoulders and I push my tongue past her lips, coaxing a quiet moan from her. 

Holy shit. 

My hands go to her ass and she grasps at my hair as I pick her up, her legs wrapping around me. 

Just to see if we're on a standard starting basis of common interests, I lift one of my hands and bring it back down, not too hard, but hard enough, and she hums, fucking biting my bottom lip and grinding into me a couple times. 

I have to keep from creaming my pants just by her moving against me. 

You're being stupid, I tell myself, but I can't bring myself to leave her alone now. 

She's been the forbidden fruit or whatever for months now and I just gotta have it. 

I take her to my room and kick the door shut with my foot, taking her to the shitty mattress on the floor. 

I drop her onto it, seeing her in the glow of streetlights. 

"Take your shirt off." I say, lowly, and she rubs her lips together and slowly pulls it over her head, her bare chest exposed and my dick's practically throbbing at this point. 

I take her crucifix in my hand, and she looks down at it as I lick my lips. 

She unfastens it and throws it aside. 

I lean down and kiss her again, trailing down her neck, my tongue against her skin and she gasps out a sharp breath, her hands pulling at my shirt. 

I take it off and she's sitting up and running her palms over my shoulders, down my chest, and I grasp her around her throat, pushing her back to the mattress and I feel a little shiver go up her spine. 

My tongue circles one of her nipples and she lets out bated breaths as I take it between my teeth. 

She moans, loudly, and I move my hand to her mouth. 

"Shh!" I say. "You're gonna wake them up." I add and she nods. 

I do the same to her other breast, with my hand over her mouth, but then I get an idea. 

A glorious, completely selfish idea. 

I take my hand off of her mouth and smirk before kissing the middle of her chest, one of her top ribs, biting into it, hard, making her scratch at my shoulder while covering her own mouth as a sharp moan is forced from her.

I run my tongue over the bite mark and continue down her stomach, stopping at the top of her panties, glancing at her. 

She's still breathing heavy, hands covering her chest, tilting her head to see me. 

I run my hand over her clothed core, a little noise coming from her throat, feeling a big wet spot over her cunt. 

She lifts her hips and starts pulling them down and I take them and discard them, running my fingertips up the inside of her thigh before I rub my thumb around her clit that's slickened wet. 

Her hands jolt to mine between her legs, her back arching, trying her hardest not to be loud. 

I tug her to the edge of the mattress, and grab one of her hands, replacing mine with it before I'm looming over her for a moment. "Touch yourself." I tell her, my lips brushing against hers and I can tell she's blushing under the dark of the room. "C'mon, it's hot, just do what feels good." I add, my lips pressing against hers for a moment before I feel her hand move, a delicate gasp coming from her and I pull my lips from hers to watch her face. 

Her eyes close, her head tilts back while her other hand tangles in her hair. 

I stand up to take my pants off, grabbing at my painfully hard cock when she bucks her hips against her frail fingers. 

"Nikki," she says, eyes still shut, head back, and I rub my hands down my face. 

We haven't even fucked yet and I can already tell she's gonna make me a fucking idiot. 

I get my pants off and run my thumb over my tip and get some precum on it, leaning down and holding it up to her lips. 

"Hold your tongue out," I tell her and she opens her eyes and looks at me, before doing as I say. 

The pad of my thumb rubs it over her tongue and she lets out a satisfied sigh, looking up at me as I lick her spit off my thumb. 

I get back up on my feet for a moment and she gets up and crawls to the foot of the bed, her eyes on my prick, hunger in her eyes…

Nice try, evil bitch, you're not stealing my soul by sucking it through my dick. 

I grab her hair and make her look at me. 

"Lay down." I tell her and doesn't argue, eyes still ravenous…

I kiss up her kneecap to her thigh, sliding up and up until--

"Oh, fuck!" She whimpers out when my tongue swirls her clit around, getting the first taste of Saint Viv. 

My eyes are the ones to roll back, now. 

Holy shit. 

It's good because she's Satan and needs something to trap you with, that little voice comes back. 

Her hands find my hair, her lips find my name and if I don't get ahold of myself, I'll be finding God based on this experience alone.

Apparently she's finding him right now because all she can muster out is, "oh, God." 

I find a good rhythm with my tongue, her pussy starting to grind against my face as teasing, little sultry moans flutter through the room. 

After a minute I feel her body tense up, and I pat myself on the back as she comes, my tongue lapping at her entrance to get drunk off of her, my hands running over her stomach and thighs. 

Vivian claims we just went right into sex without doing anything aside from making out before hand but I distinctly remember going down on her. She must've blacked out once she realized we were about to fool around or something but I remember that happening because it was something I'd dreamed up doing ever since I met her, creepy but honest.

I pry myself from her to grab a rubber behind the head of the mattress, the both of us pulling ourselves up there.

I get it on and turn over, getting on top of her. 

She's already hooking her legs around me before I even line myself up with her. 

She looks like she's high or drunk, eyes nearly shut, her lip between her teeth, her head tilted slightly, exposing her neck. 

I lean down and kiss her neck, her skin damp with sweat and she sighs. 

I rub my tip against her opening and she closes her eyes. 

I push into her, having to coach myself through because fuck her pussy is tight, and she winces, her mouth opening but nothing coming out. I'm about to ask her if she's alright when she speaks first. 

"Take it off." She tells me. 

"What?" 

"The condom, take it off." 

"Are you trying to trap me or something?" I snap at her. 

"I wanna feel you." She tells me softly, and I guess it's kinda sweet, or primal, whatever. 

I pull out of her and take the condom off, dropping it by the bed before I'm pushing back into her. 

We both moan, and I can feel her body stretching to accommodate my entrance, her face showing pain. 

I pullout again, but before I can get out completely, she pulls me back in with her legs, letting out a high pitched breath. 

More of her juices coat over my cock. 

"Fuck, Vivian," I say it, thrusting into her again and she wraps her arms around my back, hugging me to her, and my lips find hers as I push into her again, and again, roughly, the feeling of heaven washing over me each time I go back inside her. 

I make her take every inch, forcing myself to fit the last inch and a half despite her body not having room, and she writhes underneath me. 

"I think I'm bleeding." She tells me breathlessly and I think she wants me to back off or get off her, but when I go to, she says, "No, keep going, it feels good." 

The look on her face is a clear indication that she's into it. 

I'm kind of shocked that churchy Vivian is into the same shit I'm into, and I grab her throat, again, and kiss her, our tongues moving together. 

"I wanna get on top next." She tells me through moans. 

"Why?" I ask. 

"I wanna see it." She says and I furrow my brows for a second before I catch on. 

I'm rolling off of her and onto my back, my hands running up her thighs and waist when she gets on top of me, and I grab myself as she straddles me, pushing it against her before my hands pull  her down onto me. 

She screws her eyes shut, as she sinks down to the hilt, her thighs shaking, and I hit her ass cheek as hard as I can and she gets so tight around me I can't pull out until she relaxes. 

"You can't do that shit." I tell her harshly, biting back my urge to go ahead and come, and she relaxes a little more as my hands hold at her waist, guiding her movements since she's never done this before. 

"Does it feel good?" I ask her, her little moans and whimpers getting me even more hot and bothered. 

"Yes," she nods, tipping her head back. "So good."

I look between us, clear view of her pussy taking it, and I sigh. 

"It looks good, too." I tell her and she leans down over me, her forehead against my chest as she watches me fuck her for a moment before looking at me, kissing me sloppily, her chest pressing against mine making her sigh when her nipples brush against my skin. 

When she pulls away, I'm sticking two fingers in her mouth, taking her by surprise but she starts sucking on them in a second, and I force them down her throat, making her gag, as I start pounding into her, making her nearly shriek out but I gag her with my hand around her throat. 

"You're so pretty." I tell her, spit all down her chin from choking on my fingers, eyes nearly shut, my hand around her throat, and I glance down between us, licking my lips. "That pussy's pretty, too." I add and she cries out when my other hand starts rubbing at her clit. 

I take my hand from her throat and she gasps for air. 

"Nikki, I'm--" 

She can't finish. 

I roll onto her again, getting on my knees and lift her hips, continuing to hammer into her roughly and her eyes go to the back of her head, as her cum soaks the both of us. 

Why the fuck didn't she tell me she can come like that? 

I feel myself reaching my own end and go to pull out but she tugs me onto her, kissing me, her legs snaking around me. 

At first I don't think she realizes I'm about to blow my kids everywhere, then when I try to pullout, she says, "do it in me, I've heard it feels good."

I look at her like she's crazy because it's something I'd never expect her to say. 

"Please, Nikki, let me have it." 

I don't have time to argue because I'm finishing with a grunt and a satisfied smile at the sight of tears of pleasure in her eyes before her lids screw shut, her mouth open as a moan leaves her, her body sparking off with shivers. 

I let her have it.

"You're a slut." I tell her, thrusting into her a couple more times and she hums at my words. 

"Shut up." She says next and I kiss her one last time before rolling off of her. 

She pulls the covers over her chest and closes her eyes, tired, and I watch her for a moment. 

Okay, she may not be a slut, but I know she's gonna be able to get away with murder and I'm gonna let her because she's fucking Vivian. 

I ran myself into my own grave, but heroin and Vivian were major catalysts, but I know I was a catalyst for her own rock bottom, too. We were just too fucking young to know better, I guess. We fell in love and got hooked on playing house without actually stopping to think what all it would look like. Of course, neither of us expected me to be on smack, neither of us expected me to reach the level of stupidity that I reached with Vanity, and neither of us expected her to be conceiving a lovechild while I was next door dying, and I certainly didn't expect to file for divorce first, if at all. I remember that first night together in that shitty apartment got me hooked on her. Not just sex, I actually started listening to what she had to say after that, and wanting to have conversations, and hangout...I fell in love and she made it easy for me to. It was like boiling a frog. Things got worse and worse slowly overtime until BAM! I had Vanity, crack, and junk, and Vivian had Duff and a secret savings account she didn't think our lawyer would get record of. I was pissed, but I knew it was my fault. 

All of it was. 

I had promised her the world and instead stole everything from her like a life-sucking demon. 

She wasn't the evil, manipulative bitch. 

I was.

[blueluneacy]

Lessons in Law

Alright boys, it’s finally here. The first place raffle fic for @chaoticstupidsworld ! I had so much fun writing this, So I hope you all really enjoy it. This was definitely a fic made with a lot of love on my part, but I never would’ve done it without her amazing idea and the support of my friends. So thank you all for supporting me!

This is a Dio Brando/Reader, Modern Lawyer Au! It’s extremely nsfw.

Word Count: 3.4k words

Warnings are: cunniligus, fingering, degradation, slurs (sl/t), coming inside, employee boss relationships, power dynamic, slight dub con? I have no idea, but we’re putting that there too just in case.

You grumbled as you looked over the paperwork for the fourth time, trying to figure out what exactly you did wrong. Mr. Brando never told you what mistakes you made when you had made one, he expected you to figure it out for yourself, telling you it would be a learning experience. It took every fiber of your willpower to not yell back at your boss at his arrogance.

You had recently started working at the infamous Brando law firm, hoping to gain experience in your own legal studies. Your professor, though advising you that Dio Brando was known to be rather harsh, the internship would look incredible once you graduated from law school. So you toiled on, going through the paperwork, trying your best not to grumble. You should be grateful you were working for someone so prestigious. Yet all you could feel was your growing contempt for the man.

Dio in the courtroom was a wonder to behold, you knew that much. You sat in on one of his trials before taking on the internship, hoping to get more of a feel for the defense attorney. He took on most any case, so long as it paid enough, and was infamous for getting off people who probably were guilty on things like technicalities or simply his quick wit and talent for poking holes in the prosecutor’s case. Not to mention, you had quickly realized that Dio Brando was quite a beautiful man. While you knew that if you took the internship, you would need to be professional, it was hard not to see how attractive Dio was. Tall, broad shouldered, with that gorgeous blonde hair that he let grow perhaps a bit too long to be professional in a courtroom. He had these red eyes that pierced through anyone who he set eyes on, and a pretty face to match. He often accented his looks with makeup, which some interpreted as vanity, but at the time, you couldn’t help but be entranced.

If only you could see through that pretty face at the time. During your work, you quickly realized that Dio Brando was quite an arrogant, hard to please man. Ever the perfectionist, he was quick to get rid of anyone who displeased him. One of his clerks told you once that she was shocked that you even got the job, as apparently on the day of your interview, you had a tag sticking out from your top. That’s how particular Dio was about the image of his firm, and the people who worked for him.

And here you were, working to figure out your mistake, hoping that it was simply a minor error, and that you wouldn’t have to retype everything. You had taken keen to simply typing up your work, as Dio once made a comment that your handwriting was too dreadful for any sort of professional document. At the time, you were too terrified of him to even talk back. Over your job, you had quickly grown tired of Dio’s constant criticism of your work. You were supposed to be learning from him. Instead, he expected you to simply know what you did wrong and correct it, and it did nothing but piss you off. When you realized your mistake, you huffed. You know, if Dio told you what you had done wrong, it only would have taken ten minutes. Instead you had spent an hour looking over papers. Surely you’d get yelled at for taking too long once you turned in the papers. You grit your teeth as moved to your laptop, editing your document and printing it out. You sighed, checking it over one last time before slipping it into your folder, standing up and smoothing down your skirt. You were a bit sick of all this dressy clothing you had to wear for this internship, but Dio insisted on it. You supposed it was fine, after all, he wore a suit every day to the office as well. Even if the suits were a bit… eccentric at times. 

You clacked down the hall, wondering if there was ever going to be a day where you would get used to wearing high heels, and stopped at the end. Dio’s office was the last one at the end of the hall. How ominous. It felt just as foreboding at Dio meant it to be, you supposed. You took a deep breath, knocking on the door three times in rapid succession. It was a formal way of knocking, you had learned. You didn’t realize there were rules to knocking on a door.

“Enter.” The stern voice of your boss called out, and you took another deep breath before opening the door, holding the folder close to your chest.

“Mr. Brando. I’ve fixed my error in the report and brought it like you asked.” You tried your best to speak cooly, but you seemed to have trouble with actual volume when you did. It wasn’t your fault, you were trying to be respectful to a man that by all accounts was practically a monster. Sauve, sure, but it was all a facade. You had learned that all too well. Dio just looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“That was faster than expected.” He reached out to take the folder, which you quickly handed over. You wanted so badly to run off and leave, get to the next item on your list so you didn’t have to stand there while Dio looked over your paperwork, thumbing through with judgemental eyes. You watched him closely, hoping that maybe you could pinpoint what part of the document he was judging. No such luck. He carefully read through, before snapping the folder shut, dropping it on the table. 

“Do it again.” Dio told you, and you just gasped. This was hours of work at this point, and you were growing sick of this superior attitude Dio had. You just looked at him, shocked.

“W-What?! What’s wrong with it, what did I do?!” You asked, trying your best to hold back the rising anger in your stomach. Dio just put on a small smile, the tone in his voice reminding you of how one would chide a small child. 

“Now, (y/n), if I told you what you did wrong, then how would-” He began, but you had had enough. He always did that when you asked what you did wrong. He would reply “If I told you, then how would you learn?” It did nothing but piss you off, make you want to rip your hair out of your head.

“No! Just tell me, tell me what I did wrong! I’m sick of this, do you know how much time we’re wasting?! I could’ve gotten ten of these done if you just told me where I’m going wrong!” You yelled, not realizing how much you raised your voice until you finished speaking. You covered your mouth, shocked at your disrespect, but you didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. Dio looked at you with an intrigued expression at the fire in your voice, standing up and over towards you. You swallowed, stumbling back until you fell into one of the chairs on the other side of Dio’s desk. He leaned close, and you could smell the expensive cologne he was wearing. Dio dressed well, you could admit that much, and his clothing at this angle with you below him only extenuated his muscles. God, did he work out? This guy was massive.

“You know, I could fire you just for that. You’re nothing but a second rate student, but I decided to take you under my wing. It seems I’ve been too soft on you, you’re being nothing but ungrateful.” Dio’s voice was low, practically ringing in your ears as you gulped, gritting your teeth. You couldn’t just cower at this, could you? No, if you did, you’d spend the rest of this internship as Dio’s mouse, letting him toy with you and degrade your work until you finally broke. You swallowed, looking up at the man.

“I think you’re just a shit teacher.” You told him, looking right into Dio’s eyes. He raised an eyebrow, and god, he was far too close to you than what could be considered professional. He took your chin into his hand, humming slightly.

“Perhaps you’re right. I haven’t really been teaching you personally. I’ll have to amend that.” Wait, did Dio actually… Take your criticism seriously? You were shocked at first, but the smirk on Dio’s face seemed to tell a different story, something you couldn’t quite place. You gulped, trying to look away, but your head was kept in place, forced to look him in the eye. It was so much harder than before.

“W-What do you mean…?” You asked, unable to hide the shaking in your voice from your embarrassment. Dio leaned in, and god, you felt his breath on your ear. You felt a shudder go down your spine, and you prayed to god that Dio didn’t notice.

“What do you think it means, my dear?” He purred, and god, that British accent of his was so smooth, leaving you to gulp as his free hand toyed with the hem of your collar. You had a very good idea of what he meant, that’s for sure. You squirmed a bit, unsure of what to do. This was not in the legal manuals you read, definitely not.

“M.. Mr. Brando… This is highly inappropriate, I-” You were cut off by your own squeak and Dio’s hand travelled lower, over your chest. He chuckled a bit at your reaction, staring at you as if you were no more than a piece of meat, primed for Dio to devour. 

“Oh, no need to act so coy, my dear.” Dio chuckled, finding your embarrassment all the more amusing. He leaned in, breathing in deeply before speaking.

“I remember how your eyes practically undressed me while you were watching me in court. You were hoping something like this would happen, weren’t you?” Dio practically growled into your ear. You gasped, looking away. There’s no way he could’ve noticed, right? He was just messing with you, pretending he knew things that he didn’t in order to get a confession out of you. He knew how to form questions. It was just a shame that he was absolutely right, and your face was bright red. 

“I.. I d-don’t what you’re talking about-” You let out a soft moan as Dio leaned down to suck on your skin, leaving a mark.

“It’s not good to lie, dear (y/n). Such a slutty thing, lusting after your own boss. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Dio just grinned into your neck as a hand reached under your shirt, toying with you through your bra. You gulped, biting your lip to try and hold back your embarrassing sounds, pressing your thighs together as if it would stop how wet you were becoming due to his ministrations. 

“Mr. Brando… We, Someone could catch us, p-please…” You made a last ditch effort to save a shred of dignity, only for Dio to purr.

“This room is hard to listen in to, for privacy’s sake. So as long as you’re quiet, no one will know.” He told you as he lifted you up. You squeaked as he held up, pressing your back down onto his desk as he pulled the zipper on your skirt, smiling as he saw you had soaked through your underwear.

“My my… Someone’s excited, aren’t we?” He teased and he ran his hand along your thigh, using the other to toy with the hem of your underwear. You bit your lip a Dio began to slip them off, cooing at the sight of you. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’d rather savor the taste of this before we continue.” You looked at Dio to ask what he meant, before feeling exactly his intent as his tongue swiped over your slick folds. You moaned out, reaching to grab Dio’s hair. He chuckled a bit, giving a few kitten licks before truly pushing his tongue inside of you, taking in your moans as if they were the great symphony. He toyed with your insides a bit, thrusting his tongue in and out of you, before pulling out and reaching to give a harsh suck on your clit. You whined and bucked up into Dio’s mouth, only feeling that coil in your belly start to tighten as you chased pleasure. Dio just chuckled, moving to hold down your hips. 

“Look how needy you are for me… Delicious little thing, you’re just aching for me, aren’t you?” He teased, pushing a finger inside of you to help stretch you out as his tongue toyed with your clit. You moaned, nodding incessantly as Dio did as he pleased.

“God, pleeeeease! Please, I need it!” You whined out, trying to buck your hips as Dio added another finger, scissoring them to prepare you to take him. He just chuckled as you moaned, your pleading becoming more delirious as you begged for him to pound you into this desk. He pulled his fingers from you and you groaned, bucking up your hips in an attempt to reobtain the lost friction, only to find nothingness. Dio just chuckled, forcing his fingers into your mouth.

“Suck. If you do a good job, maybe I’ll be gracious enough to let you cum on my cock.” Dio practically growled. You felt a shiver go down your spine as you wrapped your lips around his fingers, doing your best to clean them off. You looked up at Dio, trying your best to look pleading. God, just a while ago you would’ve scoffed at the idea of ever being below the man like this. Sure, maybe the idea had popped in your head a few times during some late nights, but you always considered Dio too full of himself for such a thing to ever happen. Now look at you. Needy, begging, and ready to jump at any command. And the look in Dio’s eyes made it very clear that he relished in it.

When he finally pulled out his fingers, he smiled at the way you practically whimpered, biting your lip as you watched Dio pull away, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his trousers to reveal his hard cock. You stared in awe for a moment. It was big, maybe a little too big, but you couldn’t help but drool a little at the sight. Dio easily lined up, nudging against your entrance, leaving you to shudder with need.

“Beg. Beg for me to fuck you.” Dio commanded. You looked away, embarrassed. You swallowed before you started.

“P… Please, Dio. Please fuck me, I need it, need you so bad. You’re the only man who can fulfill me, please.” You begged. Dio just raised an eyebrow, pushing in slowly. You groaned, grabbing onto the edge of the desk. You gasped at the stretch, feeling Dio press up against your womb as he finally bottomed out. He was quieter than you had imagined, only letting out a small gasp as he pushed in. 

“That was good, but… You can do better. Come on, let me hear how much you need it. Or I won’t move.” Dio ordered, a cocky smirk on his face. You grumbled, almost shocked at how composed he could be while his dick was literally inside you. Still, you obliged. 

“P-Please, please fuck me, I need it! Need it, need you to fuck me and cum inside of me, need you to fill me up! God, need you to fuck me, Sir!” You hadn’t intended for that last word to slip out, and when you heard it come from your mouth, you looked up with wide eyes, as if you hoped Dio maybe wouldn’t have caught it. It was a foolish hope. Dio just broke out in a small laugh, pulling back slowly. You whined, expecting him to be pulling out, before he slammed back into you. You let out a broken moan, your eyes rolling back in your head as he hit your g-spot. 

“Hmm, that’s much better. It seems you’re finally starting to learn.” He growled, sounding a bit more animalistic than anything you had ever seen the normally composed lawyer speak out. He grabbed onto your hips bruisingly tight, beginning to fuck you hard and fast. Dio was insatiable, bending over you and gasping for breath as he listened to you moan and let out broken praises. He relished in the way you begged for him, the way your body clenched around him, trying to bring him deeper inside of you as you let out sounds for him.

“God, yes, please Dio, fuck me! Fuck me harder, please!” You moaned out, Dio practically snarling as his mouth moved to your neck, sucking and biting the skin in hopes of causing you bruises, marking you as his. 

“That’s Sir to you, slut. Be grateful that you even are getting this.” He gave a harsher bite as a warning, leaving you to moan and gasp in return.

“S-Sorry, Sir! Please, thank you! Thank you for fucking me, feels so goooood~!” You cried out, wrapping your arms around Dio and grabbing onto the back of his shirt. You were almost sure that you were loud enough for the whole office to hear you, but at this point, you didn’t care. You felt yourself getting closer, closer, and all you could think about was how good it would feel to cum all over Dio’s cock, to feel him fill you up. Dio could feel himself getting close too, groaning as he dug his nails into your hips.

“Where do you want me to cum?” He grunted out, trying his best to stave himself from holding your hips down and forcing his cum into the deepest parts of you.

“Inside me, Sir! Please, it’ll be okay! Just fill me up!” You begged, trying to pull Dio as close as you to you. Dio just growled, pounding into you as hard as you could and you wailed out, clenching down on Dio as if trying to milk him for all he’s worth. He pounded into you one, two, three more times, before he let out a groan of his own, pressing himself into you as deep as he could. You moaned at the warmth you felt inside of you, the two of you staying like that and panting for a bit. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against Dio’s lips, slowly releasing your grip on Dio’s shirt, trying to crane your neck to inspect your wrinkles. Ever the dutiful employee.

Dio slowly pulled out, leaving you to whine. This was going to be a bitch to clean up. Dio just smiled, adjusting your shirt. 

“Looks like most people have already left for the day. However, you still have a report to redo. I expect you to finish it before you leave here.” Dio told you as he put himself away, already moving to get back to his own unfinished paperwork. You gasped, moving to stand up and face him, even though your legs were still like jelly.

“What?! Come on, that’s hours of work, just tell me what I did wrong.” You begged, but Dio just smiled as he turned back to you. He grabbed your chin, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip almost tenderly, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

“Now, my dear (y/n). If I were to tell you your mistake, how would you learn?” Dio chided as he always did, before letting you go, moving to sit back down at his desk.

“Now, go on, try again. If it’s good, perhaps I’ll… Reward you kindly.” He relished in the way your face burned as you heard him speak, eyes tearing over you as you started to redress with him still dripping out of you. Even after something like that, he was still an asshole. As you walked out of the office, you were grateful that the office was indeed almost empty, and the people still there didn’t comment on your crooked shirt or messy hair.

You really did hate working for Dio Brando. That much was obvious. He was arrogant, domineering, and felt like he was entitled to anything and everything. And yet, you continued to work for him, continued with this stupid paperwork. You couldn’t help it.

The mention of a reward was just too alluring to you.

[the-decaffeinated-youth]

Brynlee

I push the eggs around on my plate. Mom walks in and looks at me. "What?" I asks. The air is tense, just as it's been since he died. I take in a deep breath and cock and eyebrow. I look down at the plate and try to concentrate on the blue color. 

"You know you could be a little nicer," she says. 

"Whatever mom," I say and push the plate away from me. I look up at her then back down at the plate that's now a couple inches away. 

"No don't whatever mom me," she says. "I know you're mad but-" her voice getting higher pitched at the end. Her name fits her perfect. Karen. 

"I'm not mad. I just want you to understand we can't just run away because dad died. But oh wait yes we can because you pulled me out of school mid way through the first semester of my senior year. So I guess we can right?"

"Brynlee," she says stepping towards me. I shake my head and walk away from her. My brown eyes swell with tears. 

"I have to go get dressed," I say. "I can't be late for my first day of school," I start walking up the stairs. I walk up to the new room I call mine for now. 

"Brynlee!" she calls again. I take the stairs two at a time trying to get away as fast as I can. 

My door opens and my "IT" poster greets me. I smile softly and close the door behind me. I change quickly and walk over to the mirror. My long red hair swoops by my face and I pull it back before looking down at my outfit. A faux fur jacket over a white halter top and ripped jeans. 

I sit down on my chair in front of my newly assembled vanity and throw on light makeup with light pink eye shadow. I pull the hair tie out of my hair and pick up my brush. A small smile plays across my lips and I stand up. 

I pick up my bag and walk downstairs. "Your car showed up last night," my mom says. I pick up my keys and continue walking. It's hard to look at her. The last place Dad was, is no longer part of my family. It's hundreds and hundreds of miles away. I hop into my car and turn on the radio, I start scanning through the stations before giving up and pulling my aux cord out and plug it into my phone. 

The song I was last playing blares out, "I Hope" I chuckle and begin singing along. "I hope you both feel the sparks by the end of the night-" I continue singing. 

I turn on the gps not completely sure where the school is, and keep my music playing. I look at the clock on my phone and realize that it's nearly eight, about ten til. I groan a bit as I take the left turn into the school's parking lot. I pull into a parking spot and hop out of the car. I walk out and snow falls softly over my head. "Shit," I say pulling my jacket closer around me. I jog a little fast to get into the building. I reach the office when the bell rings. I groan again before opening the office door. 

I step in and smile at a tall blonde boy sitting in a chair nearby. I walk up to the desk and wait quietly. The secretary sitting there asks "Can I help you?" 

"Uh yeah I'm Brynlee Thomas, I'm a transfer student. I was wondering where to get my class schedule?" I ask softly. The lady nods and smiles softly. She clicks a few buttons and the printer whirs to life. A piece of paper falls out into the tray. She picks it up and hands it to me. 

"Marcus will show you around, you have first period together," she says. The blonde guy stands up and smiles softly. 

"Hey!" he says. The boy was taller than I thought he would be. He's over six foot tall, my jaw almost drops when I see him. I walk over to him and hold out a hand. 

"Hi." I say as he shakes my hand. He nods to my schedule and I hand it to him. 

"Oh we have six out of eight classes together," he smiles softly. 

"Oh do we?'' I ask. He nods and we begin walking out of the office. I follow him close behind. 

"So Brynley how do you like Vancouver so far?" 

"Oh uh Bryn is fine, and I like it. I miss Texas though," I say. Marcus nods and sighs. I shake a little. 

"Well Bryn. I'm glad you like it," he says and walks down the third hallway down the main hall. "Cold?" he asks softly. I nod. "Well you did wear a third of a shirt," he says. 

"Oh uh yeah," I say self consciously. Does he think I'm a slut? He laughs a little.  

"I like it," Halfway down the hall he walks to a door and opens it, "Here we are," he says to me quietly. I walk in and he follows behind me. He walks up to the teacher and explains who I am. 

"Oh! Welcome Bryn! Go ahead and take a seat," Mrs. Jayson says. Marcus tilts his head and walks to his seat looking at the empty seat in front of him. I walk over to it and sit my bag down. I sigh and pull out a notebook. "Brynn have you gotten to trig in your past bridge math class?" I nod and look at her. 

"Just got to it actually,"I say quietly. She begins lecturing after telling me if I had any questions I was welcomed to stop her. 

"I can help you with your homework if you need it," Marcus leans up and whispers in my ear. I nod and lean back into the chair taking notes. 

After an hour of lecturing the bell rings and I stand up. "So next period. I don't know if he's here today. But you not being from here it may be a shock to you to see who's in our next period." I look at him as he shows me the way to our lockers. 

"Who is it?" I ask. 

He shakes his head. "I'm not gonna explain who he is. If you know who he is you'll see. You'll understand. Just promise me you'll be cool about it?" he asks. I nod and open my locker putting everything besides one notebook, my phone, and a pencil inside. 

"Promise," I say shutting my locker. He picks up his binder and shuts his locker as well. "Well lead the way." A smile plays across my light pink lips. 

"God I hope he's not here," the boy says. 

"Marcus who the fuck are you talking about? You can tell me," I say as we walk up the nearby stairs. I walk directly beside him, our hands swinging, almost touching. He shakes his head, showing his side shave. I smile softly, but hide it so that maybe he'll tell me," 

"Here we are, second period," he says opening the choir door. The room is lined with sound proofing. My jaw almost drops. The room is about three times the size my old class was. My eyes scan across the classroom. A girl with dyed pink hair, one from first period, a boy with black hair, and a boy with shoulder length curly hair. I can't make out his face. He's tall. Not as tall as Marcus but tall none the less. That's when he turns around. "He's here." 

CHAPTER 1-7 OUT NOW ON WATTPAD. @/xamandxolby

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter eleven: art whores

After they had had their cups of coffee, and Sam took the honor of checking out of the hotel for herself, she stayed in the passenger seat next to Dan with her shirt off the whole hour long drive up to Boston. He had rolled up his otherwise short sleeves up to his shoulders, and showed off his muscular arms all the while; he also had borrowed a little rubber band from inside of the glove box; his mirrored sunglasses reflected the early morning sunlight the whole entire way up the freeway. Every so often, she took a glimpse behind her to Joey, who had propped his hair over the back of the seat so it would be up off of his neck. He squinted his brown eyes against the amber sunlight and he bowed his head a little bit from the intense glow over the continual skyline of small towns to the right.

“We're gonna swing by another hotel to pick up Frankie,” Dan finally said at one point over the roar of the freeway

“Sounds good!” Sam declared as she gave her dark hair a slight toss back.

They took the next exit off of the freeway into a part of town near the Massachusetts state line: there was in fact a little hotel there and Frank stood under the exposed stone stairwell with his lush dark hair sprawled over his shoulders like the floppy ears of a dog and his mirrored sunglasses upon his face; Sam thought about Joey's old apartment at the very sight of him. He nodded at them and showed her a grin once they rolled up to the parking spot before him.

“Hey, all o' youses,” he greeted them; Joey slid to the seat right behind Dan, and Frank climbed in next to him.

“I like this look, by the way,” he said to Sam.

“I got hot last night,” she explained with a shrug.

Joey muttered something to Frank, which brought a little chuckle out of him.

“What's goin' on back there?” Dan demanded.

“Fuhget about it,” Frank said with a wave of his hand, and he buckled into the other passenger seat.

They rolled out of that spot and doubled back to the freeway for the rest of the way up to Boston.

Sam thought about what Zelda and Belinda had said the night after Cliff died, and she knew she was doing them justice by being in that car with those three men. She was headed for yet another brand new place that she never really knew about before and had only dreamed of in the past. She knew she would have to put her shirt back on at some point, but the feeling the cool coastal breeze on her chest and belly was something she hadn't done before, not even back home in California.

Within time, the skyline emerged under the amber sunlight: Sam spotted a large Cisco sign off in the distance. It seemed like the kind of place that had only cobblestones for streets and had horse carriages all around. When she peered out the window and beyond the freeway, she spotted a few alleyways down below that did in fact have those old earthy faded cobblestones all underneath the lush green oak trees. She wondered if it really was how she believed it to be once Dan took the next exit for the venue, a long low dark building called the Paradise Rock Club, nestled down in the heart of downtown about a block from the freeway: if she didn't know better, Sam swore it was movie theater, especially since the black sign over the front doors read ANTHRAX, TESTAMENT, and special guests THE CHERRY SUICIDES in large white lettering.

“This is also the very first time we're touring here, too,” Dan explained as he rounded the corner to the back alleyway.

“What better way to celebrate than for a couple of dates,” she exclaimed.

“Right?” Joey laughed.

“I guess this place is literally right by the college,” Dan continued, “so we might be seein' a lot of people of your caliber tonight.”

“I hope so,” said Sam. They rolled up to the pale white back door, which hung slightly ajar for them. Once Dan killed the engine, Sam put her top back on and fixed her hair before she climbed out with them. They were alone there, but Frank rounded the back side of the car and joined up with her.

“Can I tell you something?” he started in a soft voice. “This has just been—eating at me for a while now.”

Dan held the door for them, and she and Frank stepped into the cool, dimly lit back hallway first. Joey sauntered past them towards their dressing room, and then Dan followed suit.

“Hey, Joe—wait up—” he called after him, and that left Sam and Frank alone; he took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt collar, and then he ran a hand over his smooth crown of lush dark hair.

“What's up?” she asked him.

“Really hope you don’t get mistaken for a groupie,” he admitted in a soft voice.

She frowned at that. “Why’s that?”

“Because groupies are often seen as whores or just women who sleep around with the band. I don’t want my best friend to be seen like that.”

“They won’t know that, though,” she said, albeit with a nervous feeling in her stomach.

“But that’s always the assumption, though,” Frank insisted. “You can’t stop people from assuming shit about you, even when you know in your heart that it’s not true. Not saying I don’t want you around—not at all. I love the fact you’re going to be with us for most of the summer. But what I am telling you is what you’re about to see when you come along with us more and more. And if you don’t believe me, let me show you what the people have been saying about your girls, the Cherry Suicides. Calling them the ‘n’ word, especially Morgan and Minerva; calling Rosita ‘fake’ because of her nails; calling Zelda a skinny bossy bitch. All kinds of nasty shit. We love and embrace our female fans, but most of our crowds don’t. How have they acted with you and Marla?”

“Like… we’re not even there,” she recalled.

“There you go then. Again, I’m not trying to be ‘that’ guy, but it’s just the truth. If only there was a way I could protect you from it, though.”

“You can always be like, 'hey! Quit pickin' on my friend!' or something like that,” she suggested, but he shrugged his shoulders.

“That's just a worry I've had,” he continued. “Y'know, I see how Joey looks at you, but I just wonder who else out there looks at you and not like that, either. Like you're fresh meat for the taking.” He then lifted his head to the hallway behind her, and she turned and followed his gaze.

“Even when there's duct tape on boots involved,” he said, that time in a louder voice.

Zelda walked up to the door right behind them with Chuck's boots latched onto her feet: the silver duct tape glistened under the low golden lights on the ceiling, still in place after Greg stuck it on with haste and after a few shows under her belt. She had slicked her black hair back with a handful of gel and wore nothing but a stained dark red sports bra and a pair of pearly white gym shorts. Her flat toned stomach already had a layer of sweat all over.

“If I was hot, I would dress like that, too,” said Sam, which brought a laugh out of both of them.

“Nah, I just put my head and body under a hose,” Zelda assured her; she pushed open the door and Sam realized that was the Cherry Suicides' dressing room. “You guys wanna come in?”

“Sure!” said Sam as she followed her inside.

“I gotta get to our room, but I'll poke my head in in a bit,” Frank promised her, and he kept on going to where Joey and Dan had run off to. Sam stood in the doorway for a second and she took in a whiff of the fresh incense in that little room. A vanity mirror stood on the left wall, as well as a small desk and a pair of accompanying chairs: Rosita's hats stood on a small rack on the wall opposite the door, and a long, shabby lumpy couch and a coffee table with a pitcher of water and a little wooden plate of smoldering incense right near the right wall. Zelda fixed her bra and she glanced down at the stains with a wrinkle to her nose.

“Does this thing make me look like I spilled ketchup all over myself?” she asked Sam.

“Sorta.”

“Damn it. It's supposed to be fake blood—I was gonna put some on my shorts once we get closer to show time, too. We're trying to hone in a more gory image for ourselves. You know, something to make people take us a bit more seriously. We have the songs, we just need the image. You thirsty? I'm dyin' of thirst—”

Zelda then reached for a stack of paper cups on the other side of the table and took two out, one for herself and one for Sam. She poured them both some of that icy water from the pitcher and then she raised it for a toast. They both drank it down in unison.

“Frankie was just telling me about groupies and all the nonsense you girls put up with,” Sam explained as she stepped inside more.

“Oh, yeah, we knew right away that was gonna happen with us,” Zelda pointed out as she poured herself a second cup. “We just demand more from the people who claim to support us.”

“I think it's a little harsh, though,” Sam confessed.

“Absolutely!” Zelda brought the cup to her mouth and guzzled it down. “Like I remember it kinda got to me at first, but I'm a Rhode Island chick who's not a rich snob. I look up to Wendy O. Williams, Lita Ford, and Bessie Smith, and also Peter Murphy, Henry Rollins, and Iggy Pop. I gotta be tougher than toenails, so it's part of the shit sandwich we eat. In fact—you heard this from me—that's a song Rose wrote just the other day. Called 'Shit Sandwich.'”

“Is it gonna be on your new album?” Sam chuckled. “We'll see.” Zelda poured herself a third helping of ice water and then she set the pitcher back down on the coffee table and took her seat on the couch. “We have to talk to Aurora some more, and then hopefully—it's the hope, anyways—we'll be knocking on Jonny Z's door soon.” She took a small sip from the cup and crossed her right leg over her left knee. “That's how Testament did it.”

“Do you guys have a manager at all?”

“Who, us? You're looking at her.” Zelda flashed her a wink, and then she stopped in her tracks, and a grin crossed her face. “Why? You wanna do our dirty deeds for us?”

“I'd have to do it plus school, though,” said Sam, to which Zelda shook her head.

“It's not hard—you just have to pick up the phone and shake hands with people. You gotta have a tough skin to do it, too—I mean, you saw us struggle.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” They fell into silence for a moment, and then Sam spoke again.

“How do you cope with it?”

“What, the struggle?” Zelda asked her once she took another sip.

“Yeah.”

“I usually like to poke fun at it. And the three of them do, too—like I said, Rosita wrote a song a few days ago about it called 'Shit Sandwich.' That's just our sense of humor: to be dark and bleak but not over the top with it. We make fun of the struggle because we're part of it.”

“You know, Aurora and I formed a bit of a duo called the 'art vixens'.”

“The art vixens?” Zelda smirked at that.

“Yeah, 'cause she thinks Joey has his eye on me and now she's married to Emile. We're like the vixens now.”

“It's funny, before the wedding, like back when you guys were shopping for dresses, I actually got to talking to Belinda and she told me she liked our name. And I was like, 'thank you, that's real cool of you.' 'Cause our name is very love it or hate it, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“I told her it's akin to a woman stabbing herself in the chest, or a virgin sacrificing herself. And then she made a joke about cherries after that, and I started callin' her Miss Cherry 'cause of it.”

“So the cherries and the vixens,” Sam said.

“Together, we can be the 'art whores'!” Zelda declared.

“The art whores?” Sam burst out laughing.

“Yeah!” Zelda laughed along with her. “Yeah—you, me, Aurora, and Bel. You and Aurora are the vixens. Bel and I will be the cherries. The four of us collectively are the art whores.”

She drank down the rest from the cup, and then Sam helped herself to some more.

“I gotta get you to hang out with Testament more,” Zelda told her in a low voice.

“I partied with them over New Year's,” Sam recalled.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, when they were preparing to record upstate. I got to join them all the way 'til midnight.”

“You gotta do it more, though. Even though Louie and I are broken up, they are literally the coolest dudes. Chuck and Eric are especially nice to Minerva and Morgan, mainly 'cause they're Hispanic boys and they're a couple of black girls, but they're our neighbors, though. I mean, Chuck lent me his boots for god's sake. And another case in point is Louie is still a really good friend to me. He'll call me once in a while and ask me how things are doing. He called me over Christmas and on my birthday. We just—can't really be a couple is all.” Her face fell a little bit upon saying that but she shrugged it off.

“Even Alex?” Sam asked her as she knitted her eyebrows together and took another sip of water.

“Alex is kinda standoffish—and skittish even—I mean, you saw the way he acted towards me when you ladies were shoppin' for dresses—but it's only because he's still breaking in his shoes. I mean, he graduated high school not even a year ago. Graduated and now he's on a lengthy tour with us and the five dicks from Manhattan—well, four of them are, anyways, unless Joey has another place that we don't know about. But he's a good kid, though, Sam. I promise you.” She paused for a second. “I think he's talked about you a little bit. I think—I haven't heard full conversations, but I have heard him mention you a bit before.”

“Who, Alex?”

“Yeah, he calls you 'Cliff's girl.' You know, 'cause you and Cliff were together. But like I said, I never really paid much attention to it so I only ever hear him mention you by the fact you're Cliff's girl.” And then the smirk returned to her face. “So Joey's been keeping his eye on you?”

“Yeah, but it's—platonic, though.”

Zelda squinted her eyes and she rested her elbow on top of the couch next to her.

“You sure? Because I swore that with Mr. Clemente when we first met, and then next I know, we're moving to a little place outside Narragansett together.”

“Wait a minute, how'd you guys work it out, though?”

“He quit Testament for a little bit, 'bout a year. Back when they were still referred to as Legacy and like right before you came into the picture. That was how we were able to work it out for as long as we did, but then he decided to come back because, you know—I was the one paying the rent.”

“So that explains why when they were about to record in that studio upstate, they had another drummer listed,” Sam recalled.

“Right! Right—Mike, I think was his name?” Zelda snapped her fingers twice. “Mike—Mike—something or other. I can't remember what it was now.”

“Ronchette?”

“Ronchette, yeah! Good pull with that.”

The distorted sounds of a guitar floated in from the hallway behind Sam.

“Speaking of Testament, I think that's them,” Zelda said with a nod of her head. “I hear them jammin' all the time. So I kinda know Eric's tone when I hear it.”

Indeed, Sam leaned back a bit but she couldn't see anything. She stood in the doorway and she spotted Eric, Alex, and Greg right down the hall upon stools.

“Little bit of Mercyful Fate,” Greg was saying as he plucked at his thick bass strings.

Alex leaned his back to the wall with the guitar cradled upon his lap. He kept his head bowed a bit so his bangs hid most of his eyes from view; his arms looked a little more toned and  sinewy than before. His playing at such a quick and hard pace and in such a brief amount of time endowed him with much more strength. Sam tucked her hand into her pocket and she felt Cliff's pick inside of there. Maybe she was too hard on him, especially since that was how he saw her.

He lifted his head and fixed his hair, and then he gazed on at her with a grave look on his face. The corners of his mouth were turned a little bit so it looked as though he was smiling, but simultaneously wasn't, like that of the Mona Lisa. Those deep eyes seemed deeper than before; and the black hair dye was starting to fade off from his head: the plume of white over his forehead was trying to make its return, such that it looked rather ghostly over his head.

She thought about that evening in the Bay Area, where he and Greg dueled on the front porch. If only she could see that side to him again. But she had nothing to say to him. If only she could show Alex the Joey she had seen that morning. If only she could show him the other side to him, but she couldn't.

But then he bowed his head again and returned to the three man jam between him, Eric, and Greg, and she returned to Zelda, who had climbed to her feet and made her way across the room to the small fridge in the corner behind Rosita's hat rack. She took out a little fruit cup and then she gestured to one of the hats on the rack.

“D'you hear about this band called Guns 'N Roses?” she asked Sam.

“Yeah?” She vaguely recalled Eric talking about them in the few months before.

“They're awesome,” Zelda said with a twinkle in her eye. “I saw them last month here in Boston—they opened up for the Stones. Completely blew them off the stage. Their lead guitarist had on this big black top hat and afterwards, he chucked it out to the audience and I caught it.” She pointed at the black top hat on the part of the rack closest to her. “Gonna see if Rose wears it tonight.”

“Rose with a rose from Guns 'N Roses,” Sam joked, and Zelda laughed out loud at that.

The two of them hung out in the dressing room for a little while longer until Aurora bustled into the room in a white camisole and a laminated badge around her neck and a clipboard under her arm.

“I was just thinkin' about you,” Sam told her.

“I was, too,” Zelda joined in with a smirk on her face.

“I have some good news, some not so good news, and some bad news,” Aurora said, out of breath.

“Bad news first so it's out of the way,” Sam quipped, and Zelda nudged her for that.

“Okay, the bad news is the label is getting bought out, and Sam—” She fetched up a sigh. “I think you and I are gonna lose our jobs.”

“Oh, no!” Sam gasped.

“Oh, shit!” Zelda gasped with her, and they looked on at each other.

“I hope Marla finds a place to live in Hell's Kitchen because I don't wanna be stuck in the Bronx forever,” Sam confessed.

“No, you don't,” Zelda assured her. “I like the Bronx, but it's not really a place you wanna get stuck in.”

“What's the not so good news?” Sam asked Aurora.

“The not so good news is Emile is moving to Brooklyn.”

“So landlord's gonna be away from his building—sounds legitimate, though. I mean, it makes sense. You guys are newlyweds.” Sam shrugged.

“Now what's the good news?” Zelda chimed in.

“Good news is if all goes well tonight,” Aurora announced, “we just might see the Cherry Suicides en route to a legitimate record deal.”

“Things just have to go well, anyways,” Zelda said with a little wave of her hand. “So no tech problems, no drama, no nonsense, things like that.”

“Absolutely.”

Zelda glanced over at Sam, who raised an eyebrow at her.

“Think we can do it?” she wondered aloud.

“Hell yeah,” Sam told her with an extended hand, and Zelda gave her a low five. “You got those big boots with you. You can so do it.”

Within time, Minerva, Morgan, and Rosita showed up, and the latter set the black top hat upon her head to go with her black lace crop top and matching short skirt. She tucked the signature rose onto the base to make it distinctly her own. Meanwhile, Sam stayed in her spot on the couch next to Zelda and watched the three of them. Even though she wasn't properly asked to do so, just sitting there alone made her feel like a band manager.

She could hear the audience outside, and she wondered what the rest of the place looked like. She ambled across the floor and she stepped out to the hallway: next door was Charlie and Scott talking to each other about something in soft voices. The former nodded at her and his soft black curls fluttered a bit over the top of his head.

“Hey you,” he said to her.

“Li'l Sam I am,” Scott followed with a raise of those thick dark eyebrows. “What'chu doin'?”

“Oh, just hangin' out—I also wanna check out the rest of this place, too.”

“Not much here,” Charlie explained, “just a little bar and a stretch of floor enough for a thousand people.”

“A thousand?” She was stunned by that.

“That's nuthin',” Joey called from their dressing room.

“Yeah, that's nuthin',” Scott echoed him.

“I think that's something,” Sam pointed out, and that got a laugh out of him.

“It's general admission, too—so everyone's either gonna have a bunch of folding chairs or standing up,” Charlie said. He then gestured for Sam to follow him out of the hallway, and he led her to a stretch of curtain at the very end, past Testament's dressing room. She looked over her shoulder and she spotted Louie perched on a small barren shelf on the wall with his white gloves on and his drum sticks in hand. He gave her a little wave, and she returned the favor.

“Right over here,” Charlie gently coaxed her: he pushed the curtain back a little bit, and she gazed out to the small stretch of black stone floor before her, lit up with some yellow and red lights overhead. Indeed, there were a few folding chairs on the floor but everyone else congregated about the place. On the opposite wall stood a small bar with a small crowd around it to boot.

“Nothing to it,” she remarked.

“Nothing to it at all,” Charlie echoed, and he nodded to the left. “That's where we're gonna playing in a little bit.” She spotted the stage adjacent to them. It looked awfully small, but she trusted the three bands behind her. Once the sun hung low over Boston, one of the people at the bar came backstage to check in on the Cherry Suicides.

“We're opening act, so we were born ready,” Zelda told her as she flicked a little fake blood onto those white shorts.

Sam lingered back on the side of the stage a bit and she watched the four of them take to the center. Zelda mounted herself on the stool while Rosita slung her bass down low: she had written “las putas” over the bridge, and Sam eagerly nodded at that. The lights turned low and she realized how small that room truly was once it erupted in noise.

“Hello, Boston!” Minerva declared into the microphone. “We are the Cherry Suicides, straight outta Rhode Island, and we're here to make all of youses into soup! Hit it!”

They opened with that gory song that Sam recalled from that night in L'Amour. The one she and Cliff danced to. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She tried not to think of him, but she couldn't help it. She missed him right there.

There was a loud crack! and she jerked back a bit. She looked around a bit and she spotted a guy near the front had put a fire cracker right near Morgan and lit it off there. But another guy pushed him away and one of the stagehands dragged him out of there.

“Fucking hell, dude, did the room clear out!” Morgan shouted, and everyone laughed at that. Sam swayed a little bit and she shook her head as she tried to shake Cliff away. He was gone, there was nothing more she could do or say right then. But the feelings persisted, at least for the next two songs. The fourth one was “Day of the Dead”, where a true mosh pit finally opened up for them.

They were moshing for the girls. Sam nodded her head at them, but then a guy close to her threw a punch to someone next to him. There was another punch, followed by a third, and a fourth, and the next one after that had been inflicted onto a woman. Zelda stopped drumming right there and she stood to her feet as a brawl broke out before them: several men but a handful of women in there as well. Sam gaped at them and she took a step back.

Even from a distance and over the wall of noise, she made out Zelda saying, “this is bullshit.”

Then someone picked up a chair from the floor and chucked it towards the stage.

“Oh, no,” Sam muttered as another guy threw a chair at Rosita. She ducked and held onto the top hat but it tumbled onto the stage behind her.

“Oh, my god!” Sam yelled.

“Jesus!” Zelda shouted as she bowed out from her drum kit: she picked up her sticks and ducked into the darkness. There was nowhere to go right there, and so Sam lunged to help her. But then something pulled her back.

“What the—”

“Get away from there!” She recognized Alex's big voice right behind her. She turned to find him putting his other hand on her shoulder. He yanked on her other arm and then bowed his head a bit before another couple of chairs sailed right past her ear.

He saved her life, but she wanted to save Zelda from the exact same thing.

“Alex!” she shouted over the wall of noise. “ALEX!” He dragged her off stage and back into that corridor. She tried to force herself away from him but he was such a strong boy. He threw open the dressing room door and all but shoved her inside.

“Stay in here!” he commanded. “No—Samantha, stay in here! It's not safe!”

“What're you—”

But before she could say anything more, he shut the door and left. Fuming, she threw open the door and she poked her head out to the corridor. No one there and the whole wing of the theater was silent save for the out of control mosh pit out there.

She let out a low exasperated sigh. But she spotted Louie and Greg at the other end of the hallway, both of them with spooked looks on their faces.

“What the hell!” she cried out as they came within earshot.

“I know, right?” Greg said, out of breath. “Alex just ran outside to get help and Chuck and Eric both just ran across the street to call the cops—Eric told us to stay here.”

“Yeah, Alex got me off the stage—I was trying to help Zelda, but he got me off of there before I almost got hit in the head.”

“But, man, Zelda's gotta be pretty pissed right now,” Louie told her as he ran his fingers through his smooth dark hair. “I saw her runnin' and she looked furious.”

“I bet she is—Aurora said they were supposed to get a record deal after tonight.”

“Hope they can do it tomorrow night,” Greg confessed as he folded his arms over his chest. “Hope there is a tomorrow night. Those girls are tough but—damn, they don't need all that.”

“Zelda told me they make fun of the fact they get called whores, though,” Sam pointed out. “I say 'kudos' to be honest.”

“Right?” Louie chuckled; the noise on the far end of the hall and on other side of the curtain seemed to die down a bit, but it was all noise from a distance to them.

“You know, that's not a bad idea to run with,” Sam continued.

“What, making fun of what they call you?” Greg asked her with a little toss of his black hair.

“Yeah. Like she and I decided to call ourselves art whores because of it.”

“Buncha art whores,” Louie chuckled some more.

“You guys!” Eric called from the doorway down the hall. In the dim light, Sam saw him gesturing for them to come on closer. “Come on! Come on! The cops are coming!”

“Where are the girls?” Sam demanded.

“They're fine—they're right out here, but come on!”

[vxlkyrie]

partner

pairing: steve rogers x reader

genre: angst, fluff, detective!au

warning: cursing, graphic crime details, violence, weapons, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex

word count: 5.5k

summary: steve gets his first partner and doesn’t know how to act

a/n: hi everyone! i’m so happy that a lot of you enjoyed “forget you.” it just motivates me to write even more! i’ve wrote this detective concept a few years ago, and i wanted to revamp it with steve as the main lead this time. obviously i don’t have any knowledge in the criminal justice field and mainly based a lot of the story on the true crime shows i’ve watched, but i hope y’all like it! (also i stayed up until like 6 in the morning writing this, so if there are any mistakes before i go back to edit it, i’m sorry)

steve rogers – detective at the 12th precinct, the intelligence unit. he has a 97% success rate in closing cases, which was pretty fucking impressive. his charm, strength, and wits are the keys to helping him solve many of his cases. his looks have also played a big role. 

obviously steve was a handsome man, which has caused many people to flirt with him – whether they were a witness, suspect, or even a victim. they would all try to ask him out, only resulting in rejection. being a detective meant having little free time to socialize outside his job. all he had was his fellow colleagues in intelligence who have become his second family.

steve was also brave, keeping calm and collected especially during hostage situations. there would be a gun aiming at his head, but it didn’t phase him as he talked to the gunman into surrendering, succeeding every time. so you could say that steve rogers was the top detective in his unit. 

there is just one problem – he doesn’t have a partner. sure, there would be certain occasions where he would partner up with bucky or sam, but they were each other’s official partner. he would sometimes even pair up with wanda for undercover work, but she usually stuck with thor – an odd pairing, but successful nevertheless. steve was left in the squad room with an empty desk placed in front of his.

“good morning everyone.” captain fury said, gaining everyone’s attention. steve, who was fiddling with his pen stood from his chair as he saw everyone gather in front of his boss. “there will be a new addition to intelligence.”

“who is it?” wanda asked.

“this detective is transferring from the 18th precinct and has a 98% success rate.” he answered, earning gasps from some of the detectives.

holy shit. steve thought.

“shit, that’s higher that steve’s.” sam chuckled, earning a light slap to the head from bucky.

“when does he start?” bucky asked.

“she starts right now.” a female voice called as the detectives turned their heads. you walked into the room, smirking as you placed the box that was held by your side onto the empty desk – the one right in front of steve’s. you walked up next to fury, hearing whistles come from some of the male detectives.

“everyone, this is y/n l/n.” fury said.

you had transferred over from the homicide unit to intelligence. a lot of detectives knew you by your almost perfect percentage of success rate, being the lead detective on most of your cases. fury had personally asked for you after learning that you had a vast knowledge in every type of combat, ballistics, and anatomy. some referred to you as a wild card. not to toot your own horn, but you were amazing at your job.

“hello everyone.” you smiled.

“y/n will also be steve’s official partner.” fury announced before going back into his office, cueing everyone to go back to work.

“lucky bastard. i’m stuck with this guy.” sam said, earning another slap to the head from his partner, causing you to giggle.

you walked up to steve, reaching your hand out for him to shake. “hello steve, it’s an honor to be working with you.” you smiled.

steve froze at the sight in front of him wow, she’s kind of cute. he thought to himself. you looked at steve in confusion, waiting for him to respond.

“this is the part where you shake her hand and introduce yourself you idiot.” thor said, causing steve to slightly shake his head.

“sorry,” steve chuckled as he grabbed your hand and shook it. “it’s a pleasure to meet you, although i should be the one who’s honored to be working with you. i’ve heard great things about you.”

“yeah, like what?” you smirked.

“for one, you beat me in success rate percentage.” he said.

“it’s just a number, that doesn’t mean anything.” you laughed as you settled into your chair, starting to organize your desk.

“don’t be so humble.” steve said in a playful tone, making you smile. he actually liked that you didn’t have an inflated ego just because of your numbers. he watched you as you placed things onto your new desk until fury walked back into the squad room, causing everyone to gather around him once again.

“listen everyone. there’s been a murder at one of the stark hotels. i need you guys to head down there.” fury ordered. everyone started heading out.

“i’ll drive.” steve stated as you grabbed your jacket. you nodded at him in response.

as steve and you drove to the hotel, he decided to strike up a conversation. to get to know his new partner, of course.

“so, what made you want to become a cop?” he asked.

you looked at him as he kept his eyes on the road. “it was kind of a spontaneous decision. no one in my family is in the criminal justice field, but they supported me from throughout college and the academy and even now. but i know they get worried about me sometimes.”

“that’s sweet of them.” steve said, feeling a tug at his heartstrings.

“how about you?” you asked.

“me? well, my best friend peggy encouraged me to join after i had served for two years.” he simply said.

“that’s nice.” you smiled.

“although, sometimes i regret being a cop. it’s like every person i talk to wants to jump my bones and confess to murder before i could even open my mouth. this one lady i was interrogating, clearly guilty, was trying to change the subject and asked me out to dinner after she makes bail.” he added, making you snort.

“one of my friends in homicide told me about that. the hot detective in precinct 12 that every female suspect, witness, and even detective wants a piece of.” you joked.

“oh, does that include you?” steve smirked, making you roll your eyes as your face heated up a bit. luckily before you could respond, you two had arrived at the hotel, passing by sam and bucky who were currently questioning staff.

-

in both your’s and steve’s years of being a detective, neither of you have witnessed a crime scene so brutal. before you could even notice the bouquets of flowers and bottles of wine that sat at the vanity in front of the room, there was blood that covered most of other side of the room. it was all over the walls, there were burnt marks on the bed sheets along with a ton of blood. the sheets were supposed to be white, right?

you held yourself together as you carefully walked around the room, trying your best not to contaminate evidence the crime scene unit was gathering. you and steve approached the body that was being examined by the medical examiner.

“hey bruce.” steve said.

“hi steve.” the older man responded as he looked up, locking eyes with you. “and you are?” he asked politely.

“i’m y/n, steve’s new partner.” you answered.

“it’s nice to meet you.”

you looked at the victim – body covered with every type of wound known to man and a pool of blood.

“the victim doesn’t even have a face anymore.” you muttered, feeling chills run down your spine.

bruce looked closely at the limbs.

“your perp burned the victim’s fingertips to the bone.” he said.

“they didn’t want the victim to be identified.” you blurted out loud.

“what’s the cause of death?” steve asked.

“it’s hard to tell. i’ll have to wait until i do the autopsy to find out which wound killed him first. overall, it looks like the victim has cuts, thin stab wounds, probably from an ice pick that was found a few feet away, and burns from both fire and rope.”

“let me guess, the perp wore gloves and there were no fingerprints found on the pick?” you asked, earning a nod from bruce. “it looks like the victim was tied up and tortured.” you added.

“i’m surprised no one heard any screaming.” steve said.

“well, this is a penthouse and the only one on this floor. and if you look closely, there are small specs of adhesive of what looks like duct tape by the mouth that was probably burned or ripped off either perimortem or postmortem.” you said, responding to steve’s comment.

“you got a good partner here, steve.” bruce said. steve turned his head to you, impressed by your quick wits.

maybe that’s why she has a higher success rate.

steve found himself lost in his thoughts again, not noticing you walking around the room to examine more evidence. you looked up to see him still in the spot you had left him.

“uh, steve?” you called out to your partner, interrupting his thoughts as he turned his body towards you.

“yeah? sorry, i got lost in my thoughts.” he chuckled nervously as bruce shook his head in second-hand embarrassment.

“i have a thought too.” you said, slightly teasing him.

“yeah, what is it?”

“well, it might be a reach, but i think the victim was knocked out, possibly drugged, in this room and was tied up to the bed and tortured,” you said as you point out the remaining rope on the headboard. “the victim had finally freed themselves. and judging by the blood on the walls, they leaned on the walls as they tried to make it to the door, eventually bleeding out and falling to the floor. or the perp could have returned and held them up against the wall and tortured them even more and dumped them onto the floor to die.” you continued. 

you looked at steve who was just staring at you in awe while bruce gave an impressed chuckle. to be honest, he zoned out as you kept talking, but was fascinated on how quickly you came up with a theory while still at the scene. that, and he also got lost in how beautiful you looked as you spoke with confidence.

“earth to steve?” you said as you waved your hands in front of him. “for a top detective, you sure do zone out a lot.” you joked.

“he’s not usually like this.” bruce commented as he passed you two.

“sorry,” steve blinked. “and you’re right, if the victim did try to escape, our guy must have left for a bit. if he was still in the room, there wouldn’t be this much blood. maybe our perp caught him trying to escape and decided to rough our victim up even more before they died.” he suggested. he was proud of himself for even coming up with a theory so quickly as opposed to thinking about it in the squad room after returning.

“that’s also possible. let’s check in with thor and wanda back at the precinct to see if the cameras caught anything.”

-

a few hours passed by in the squad room as everyone took a break, waiting to hear back from bruce and jarvis, the tech expert.

“how’s your first day in intelligence so far?” sam asked as he sat on your desk.

you leaned back in your chair as you looked at the man.

“honestly i’m impressed. i didn’t think i’d see a scene so gruesome. did you see how much blood was in that room?” you said.

sam noticeably gulped. “mhm,” he said, trying to keep his cool. obviously this man has also never seen a crime so horrible. you tried to not laugh in his face. “so, what do you do in your free time? do you bake? hang out with your boyfriend?” sam oh so casually asked. you could hear steve and bucky snicker in the background.

“never had time for either.” you casually said as you went back to filling out paperwork.

“is that so?” sam raised an eyebrow. 

“sam.” steve said, signaling his friend to stop trying to flirt with the new detective.

“yeah, i don’t think guys find it attractive that i look at dead bodies and get gunned down by drug lords all day.” you casually said as sam’s eyes widened.

“fair enough.” sam said, lifting himself off your desk and hung his head in shame as he returned to his, steve’s and bucky’s snickers getting louder.

“just got back from banner,” fury called out, getting everyone’s attention as he pulled up a board with different images pinned to it along with writing. “our victim is none other than tony stark.”

“tony stark, as in the owner of the hotel he was found dead in?” steve said.

“why was he even in a hotel room? doesn’t he live in a tower on the east side of new york?” you asked with concern.

“was he meeting up with someone?” steve asked.

“the hotel said the penthouse was under his name.” sam chimed in.

“suspicious.” you muttered to yourself.

“stark was probably killed by someone who was probably pissed at him and wanted some of his money.” bucky said.

“stark pisses a lot of people off and everyone wants his money. i don’t think that’ll get him to meet up with someone.” you counter-argued.

“maybe he was threatened by someone.” steve said.

“none of the above actually.” wanda said as she and thor walked in. she placed more images onto the board. “jarvis went through the tapes of the camera angled at the entrance to the penthouse and found stark entering the room.” she pointed out as everyone examined the low quality image of what looks like tony stark with an arm around a lady’s waist.

“the female has blonde hair. that could be pepper potts, his wife.” steve said.

“that’s just motive. if he dies, everything goes to her,” you added. “is there footage of her coming out?”

“unfortunately, no. it seems that the camera went out as soon as they entered the room and did not come back on until seven in the morning.” thor explained.

“interesting. talk to the widow.” fury ordered.

-

you and steve were escorted through the stark tower, meeting up with a grieving pepper potts.

“hello mrs. stark.” you greeted.

“mrs. potts. i decided to keep my maiden after tony and i wed. but please, call me pepper.” she said, giving a small smile.

“pepper, first off, i’m sorry for your lost.”

“thank you.” she sniffled.

“we just have a few questions to ask you that could help in solving your husband’s murder.” steve said.

“of course.”

“to start off, where were you on the night of your husband’s murder?”

“are you suggesting that i’m a suspect?!” pepper exclaimed.

“it’s a standard question we ask everyone. it’s just procedure.” you said, getting pepper to calm down.

“obviously i was at home. i was busy with paperwork for stark industries.”

you and steve looked at each other, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

you looked back at the widow. “pepper, we have you on tape with your husband around the time of his death. steve said, handing her a photo taken from the security camera.

“what are you suggesting?” she said, sounding appalled. “how dare you, i loved my husband!” she practically yelled.

“i’m sure you did. but with him gone, that leaves you, what, at least $500 million and sole inheritance of all of his property, including the company?” you said coldly. steve knew you had to get pepper to start talking, even if it meant being a little rude.

“you’re a bitch.” pepper practically spat at you.

“look, just tell us what happened.” you said, unfazed by the harsh comment.

pepper looked at the photo, holding it close to her face as it scrunched up.

“wait a minute, that isn’t me.” she said as she placed a hand over her mouth. “h-he’s been cheating on me?”

steve looked at you in shock.

-

back in the precinct, steve looks at the board, taking in every image and written detail as he tried to piece everything together.

“so if that’s not potts going into the room with stark, then who is she?” steve said to himself as he stared into the photo as if it would give him a clear answer.

you walked up next to steve, holding a cup towards him.

“coffee?” you asked, eyebrows slightly raised.

“sure. thanks.” he said, grabbing the cup from your grasp, loudly chugging down the hot beverage, masking the beating of his heart.

“obviously tony has a mistress. i thought he had stop his playboy days after meeting pepper.” you said as you took a sip of your own drink while looking at the board. steve couldn’t help but look at you, not moving even when you turned to catch him already staring. your face started to heat up until you both hear someone clear their throat behind them.

“i’ve got a lead.” wanda said, smirking as you two snapped your heads at her as if you two had been caught.

“what’d you find?” steve said, straightening his back.

“well, jarvis has been going through stark’s call logs, and there have been many calls over the past three months to and from one number. it belongs to a natasha romanoff. here’s her address.” she explained, handing you the file, letting you take a look. you were slightly confused at the red hair that sat on top of the lady’s head in her license photo.

“i’ll drive.” you said as you grabbed you jacket and headed over to the garage filled with squad cars.

steve was about to follow after you when he felt wanda grab his arm.

“so, you like the new girl?” she smirked.

“i just met her.”

“you’re not saying no.”

“i mean, she’s cute and very intelligent.”

“so you like her.”

“yeah, is that what you wanted to hear?” steve raised an eyebrow. wanda smiled, walking away from him like nothing happened, leaving him flushed.

-

later that day, you and steve arrived at the address. you knocked on the door.

“natasha romanoff, nypd.” you said loudly.

the door opened slightly as a blonde woman peaked through the small opening.

“may i help you?” she asked softly.

“we would like to ask you a few questions about tony stark.”

“the millionaire?” she raised an eyebrow. “he’s a celebrity. what’s that got to do with me?”

“oh not much, just that you’ve been seeing mr. stark for the past few months.” steve said.

“i don’t have to tell you anything.” natasha panicked, trying to close the door. luckily, you stopped the door with your foot.

“miss romanoff, you know if you don’t talk to us it just makes you look even more suspicious, right?” you raised an eyebrow at her. she managed to get your foot away from the door, slamming it in your face.

that went well.

-

“think she did it?” sam asked after you and steve explained what had happened to the squad.

“she won’t talk to us, which raises suspicion that she might be involved.” you answered.

“she could be involved, but do you think she had the will to carve up his body like that?” steve asked.

“who knows? she’s a mistress. tony’s probably been buying her expensive things and when she gets cut off or tony might want to break things off with her, she must’ve had a lot of anger built up and took it out on him. if she can’t have him, no one can.” you said as steve nodded at your wishful thinking.

“i got off the phone with hill,” fury said as he exited his office. “she got the warrant for romanoff’s residence.”

steve quickly drove you two back to the address, not minding how dark it had become outside.

you loudly knocked on her door.

“what are you doing?” she exclaimed. “i said i’m not talking.”

“you don’t have to.” you said as you held up the warrant to her face, pushing pass her. you and steve looked through her apartment, noting the different expensive brands that littered her rooms. “where do you work miss romanoff? i’m curious to know how you could afford all of these things.” you said as natasha sat on the couch, bouncing her leg anxiously.

“i found condoms in the trash,” steve said, exiting one of the rooms. “if we have them tested, will it match tony’s dna?”

“i suggest you start talking to us natasha.” you said as you and steve sat near her.

“fine.” she sighed. “tony and i have been having an affair – but i would never in a million years hurt him. i even bleached my hair for that man just so people would think i was pepper.”

“then why were you at the hotel the night he was murdered?”

“sometimes we would go there when we didn’t want to go back to my place. but that night, i wasn’t feeling up to it, so i told him i wanted to go home. he understood and let me leave. i think i left ten minutes after we entered the room.” natasha explained.

“well that doesn’t explain the cameras going out.” steve said.

“tony had automated the cameras to go off from the moment we enter the room until around seven in the morning to give both of us time to leave separately, so we can avoid getting caught.”

“he was covering up his affair.” you scoffed.

“i know i’m not a good person. i loved tony, and i would never hurt him, let alone kill him.” natasha said as her eyes glossed with tears.

“i believe you.” you said, laying a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

you and steve shortly exited her apartment and sat in the car. you let out a deep sigh.

“if we have more than eight hours of footage missing, how are we going to know what happened?” you asked, sounding frustrated as you leaned back into the passenger’s seat.

“it’s gonna be okay y/n. it’s only the first day of the case and your first day in intelligence. you did an impressive job so far.” steve said as he patted your shoulder.

“thanks steve.” you smiled tiredly.

“it’s getting late, do you want to grab some dinner before i drop you off to your place?” he asked.

“sure, i’d like that.” you shyly smiled.

-

you two munched on your burgers at the local diner as you two talked.

“i know sam beat me to this question, but seriously, how was your first day at intelligence?” steve asked, taking a sip of his coke.

you chuckled. “i liked meeting everyone. they’re very interesting. it’s refreshing actually. new people and a cleaner building.” you answered, emphasizing the “cleaner” part. steve laughed.

“oh yeah? do you like your new partner?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“i do. even though he likes to zone out while i’m talking, i think he’s very cool.” you laughed as steve pouted at your comment.

“well, does he live up to the hot detective expectation like everyone says?”

“oh definitely.” you smirked.

later that night, steve drove you back to your apartment complex, walking you to your door.

“thank you for today and for dinner. do you do this with all of your partners?” you teased.

“you’re actually my first partner.” steve said, nervously laughing. your eyes widened.

this man really never had a partner?

you blinked back into reality. “well, i’m honored to have the title of being your first partner.” you smiled

steve smiled back, getting lost in your eyes. he unconsciously flickered his eyes from yours to your lips, making you blush. you reflected his actions, leaning in. steve leaned in as well, meeting you in the middle as your lips met, molding perfectly against each other. what was supposed to be one kiss turned into a few and then to many kisses. you pulled away to unlock your door, leaving it open to invite steve in. as soon as you closed the door, steve pushed you up against the wall, continuing what was happening moments before.

-

the next morning rolls in. you wake up to see your body entangled around someone else’s bare and muscular body. you looked up to see steve sleeping peacefully as you smiled to yourself.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer.” steve said as his eyes were still closed. you laughed as you lightly smacked his chest as he slowly opened them. “good morning beautiful.” he said, kissing your forehead.

you checked the time on your alarm clock.

“it’s almost noon.”

“it’s still morning.”

before you could respond to him, you heard a ringtone echoing through your bedroom.

what a way to ruin the mood.

both of you sat up to see steve’s phone ringing on the floor. steve picked up the phone.

“hello?” he said as you watch him listen to the person on the other side of the line. “okay.” he said as he hung up the phone, laying himself down back onto the bed.

“who was that?” you asked.

“fury. there’s a new lead in the case.” he said, relaxing himself into your pillow. you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“okay? get your ass up, we gotta get going.” you said, hearing your phone ring moments shortly. you answered it, getting the same message steve got earlier.

“do we have to get up?” steve groaned.

“yes,” you said sternly as you got off the bed. “maybe this is why i have a higher success rate than you.” you joked.

“wow. that hurt.” steve sarcastically said as he reluctantly got up.

-

“crime lab came back with the results from the evidence found in the many blood samples taken from the scene. there was one sample that had another set of dna that did not belong to tony stark.” fury said. 

“our perp got cut in the middle of wounding stark.” bucky said.

“results show that the dna belongs to a virginia potts.” fury added.

“also known as pepper potts.” steve said.

“the wife?” wanda asked.

“it makes sense now. she probably already knew about the affair. that night, she probably wanted to catch them in the act, but natasha left early, leaving pepper to confront only her husband. whether or not he denies the affair, pepper loses control and kills him.” you said, earning impressed hums from the squad.

“you think that woman really tortured her own husband?” sam asked.

“if she already knew, she probably had to keep her emotions to herself. all that built up anger can make you lose control. she wanted him to suffer like she did.” you answered.

“l/n, rogers, pick up mrs. potts. she was said to be seen at a house just outside the city.” fury said.

“yes sir.” you both said as you both grabbed your jackets from your desks.

“also,” fury said, making you two look up at him in confusion. “nice matching hickeys.” he smirked as he walked back into his office.

you and steve looked at each other, only now noticing the faint bruises on peeking out of your shirts. you both blushed as you briefly shy away from each other. the rest of the squad tried to contain their laughters.

-

you and steve arrived at the suburban residence.

“mrs. potts? nypd.” steve said as he knocked on the door. there was no answer.

“pepper?” you shouted through the door. no answer. 

you looked at steve, then looked down at the door handle, gesturing to him to check if the door is unlocked. steve grabbed the handle, slowly turning it to prevent any noise. he successfully opened the door. both of you pulled out your guns as you searched through the house as quietly as possible. most of the rooms were cleared. but when you two reach the kitchen, you were both surprised to see two figures standing behind the island. one of them was natasha, fear written all over her face as a gun was held to her head by none other than pepper, whose face was ridden with red eyes and tears.

“natasha. pepper.” you said, acknowledging the both of them.

“pepper, please put the gun down.” steve said as you two aimed your guns at her.

“no!” she exclaimed.

“well that didn’t work.” steve muttered.

“i thought you were more of a blade kind of gal, virginia.” you smirked, obviously mocking her.

“excuse me?!” pepper yelled, feeling offended.

“come on. we know you killed tony. you found out he was having an affair, and you were pissed. you took out all of your anger out on him. you tortured him, wanting him to suffer like you did.” you said.

pepper buried the barrel deeper into natasha’s temple, causing both of them to cry even more. natasha’s begs became louder.

“no one needs to get hurt. let natasha go.” steve said.

after a few moments, pepper pulled natasha away from the gun, shoving her towards you two, suddenly aiming her gun straight at you. natasha ran towards steve, causing him to pull his gun down to grab her.

“get out of here steve.” you said, never breaking eye contact with pepper.

“i’m not leaving you.” he argued.

“it’s okay, i’ve got this, just get natasha out of here.”

steve knew you weren’t going to back down. he sighed as he escorted outside, reporting everything through his radio.

“listen to me pepper, you don’t want to do this.” you said, your gun still aiming at her. you watched her pull the safety off the gun, ready to pull the trigger. you weren’t affected at all.

“pepper, i don’t want to kill you. and if you kill me, you’ll also be arrested for murdering an officer, adding more to your sentence.” you said as you kept your cool. although, it didn’t seem to convince pepper.

steve’s eyes widened as he heard a gunshot ring through the house. “shots fired, possibly an officer down. i need back up and an ambulance.” he immediately called in. he was about to run back inside when he saw pepper walking outside as you followed right behind her, holding her cuffed hands behind her back. steve let out a breath in relief.

-

“mrs. potts. you need to start telling the truth about what really happened to tony that night.” steve firmly said in the interrogation room, with you sitting next to him.

pepper sniffled, the handcuffs that wrapped around her hands jiggling as she tried to adjust herself in her seat.

“okay. our marriage was going downhill and tony had been acting different. sometimes he would stay in one of his hotel rooms just to get away from me for the night. but then i found out about natasha. i’ve known for a few months, only getting angrier when he would try to be nice to me. that night, i walked up to the room he was staying at and i knocked on the door, seeing a surprised tony.” pepper said, sadly chuckling. “before he even knew it was me, he said “you’re back so soon?” and he had fear in his eyes. i honestly think he shat himself. i looked behind him to see how he had the room set up, ready to make love to natasha like he couldn’t do to me.” pepper cried. “so yeah, i only wanted to confront him, but i lost control.”

you honestly had no sympathy for her.

“only wanted to confront him? well, mrs potts, seeing that you knew about the affair months prior and there is clear evidence of torture, you planned all of this.” you said, acid basically dripping from your words. pepper gulped nervously.

“i want my lawyer.” she said quietly.

“well, we already got your confession.” you said as you and steve left the room.

you turned to fury and a.d.a. maria hill who were looking through the one-way mirror from the other side.

“think she’s doing time?” steve asked.

“definitely. she just confessed to premeditated murder – that’s murder one in my books.” maria said as she and fury left the hallway.

after closing a case on your second day in the unit, you relaxed at your desk as you finish some paperwork.

“you scared me earlier,” steve said as he sat across from you, interrupting your focus.

“aw, were you worried about me?” you playfully pouted at him.

steve smiled at you. “yes, i don’t want my partner and girlfriend dead on the second day of her job.” he said, making you laugh and blush at the same time.

“oh, so i’ve also earned the girlfriend title?” you joked.

“that’s if you want it.” steve smirked.

“being the hot detective’s girlfriend? sign me up.” you said, making him laugh. you didn’t care that you heard throwing up noises from bucky and sam.

“come on, let’s get out of here,” steve said as he stood in front of your desk. “you had a long day. how about we grab some food and crash at my place?” he asked with a cheeky smile

you smiled as you grabbed your bag, taking your free hand in his.

“i would love that.”

[indiavolojones]

anon your MIND… 

 YE━(｡･`ω´･｡)ゞ ━S!!

Idk if you meant this as a request but I did it!!! I hope you like this incredibly spur of the moment, university wicked au lmfaoaoooo

5kish words, gen, asmo/solomon

“I can’t concentrate on coursework or go to bed if you’ve got someone moaning in your bed every other night.”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” Asmo sniffs, and Solomon very quickly finds the situation slipping through his fingers. All of his phenomenally constructed arguments for why Asmo should be a respectful roommate have disintegrated in the face of Asmo’s pure obstinance. “Besides, where would I take my partners if not to my room?”

“Their rooms. A car. A bathroom.  A dark alcove somewhere. I don’t care--anywhere else but here.”

Pls keep in mind a bunch of small notes:

-I haven’t seen Wicked, only listened to the soundtrack! I don’t remember what happened to make them room together/much of the plot hahaha. This is less of a wicked au and more a magical college au, whoooo~ -I made up so much shit for this. I was pulling lore outta my ass like nobody’s business -Everyone is human! -I skipped around a lot, so if there’s something that doesn’t make sense pls ask and I’ll clarify hahaha, I wanted to keep this short!! (is,.... 5k short...)

-

-

-

“We're all supposedly the best of the best, and yet none of us could stop a burst pipe," Solomon bemoans the status of their old dormitory.

“In our defense, it happened in the middle of the night and we had no idea what was going on?" Simeon offers, tilting his head with a sympathetic smile.

"But midway through the semester!" Solomon won't admit that the loss of one of his few friends being constantly at his side is more daunting than he thought it would be. Simeon is a phenomenal roommate, and understands Solomon better than anyone.

With the unfortunate mad dash to get all the affected students into new, undamaged rooms, the two of them are being split up, and now Solomon will have to get used to another, likely annoying roommate.

"I never realized you were this dependent on me." Simeon teases, and Solomon glares at him. Simeon swirls himself around in Solomon’s desk chair while Solomon walks by, cardboard box in his arms. Just to annoy him, his foot shoots out to stop Simeon mid-spin, and Simeon huffs, looking up at him.  

“Didn’t you say you were going to help?” Solomon asks.

Simeon laughs.

“You asked me to come help move boxes? I thought it was for sure because of you freaking out at getting a new roommate.” Solomon’s lips quirk downwards, and turns his head away with a scoff as he brings the box to the corner of his new dorm. Simeon props an elbow up on Solomon’s desk and watches the other.

“What could you possibly do to help with that?” Solomon asks, palm pressing to the box and releasing the sealing spell on it. “Do you have a solution for this?”

He gestures at the other half of the (thankfully) large room.

Instead of the traditional bunk bed and lower desk set like on Solomon's side of the room, the other half of the room consists of a large wardrobe as additional closet space, an extravagant vanity filled with beauty products, and a nest. A massive nest of pillows, sheets, and blankets—describing it feels ridiculous, but to look on its glory is surprisingly enticing. It does look… very comfortable.

“I think it looks rather nice,” Simeon examines the fairy lights strung up around the walls near the bed. The edges of his roommate's influence barely encroach onto what Solomon would consider to be his side, but as he’s the one imposing on this person’s space halfway into the year… he’ll bite his tongue.

Realistically, there’s no reason for RAD to have shared dorm rooms--the school is prestigious enough that each student could probably get their own living suite… but the chancellor of their particular location is the direct son of the president. He’s a bit eccentric, and enthusiastically vocal about the benefits of shared dorms as integral to the relationships they develop with their peers.

(There are things Solomon’s heard of him too: how he’s the youngest person in his role, how despite the accusations of nepotism he’s completely taken the magical community by storm in his unconventional approach to education.

An interesting man that Solomon would enjoy meeting face to face, rather than admire on a podium, even if he is quite handsome.)

Simeon purses his lips, before snapping his fingers, “A privacy screen?”

Solomon rolls his eyes hard enough that they feel like falling out of his sockets.

“I don’t know why you’re so up in arms about this. I’m sure your roommate will be fine,” Simeon says then, gentle--Solomon looks at the opposite side of the room and has his doubts. “It’ll be good for you to try making more than three friends, you know.”

Taking the books out of the box and lining them up on the shelves of the book case, Solomon tosses a glance back at Simeon.

Simeon isn’t wrong.

Solomon could be the most powerful sorcerer in the world, but it means absolutely nothing if he can’t effectively operate in the modern magical community. Maybe if he was born several hundred years earlier he could have swept up the world in the sheer magnitude of his power, but nowadays, politics infect everything. Solomon can’t patent a spell to wipe his ass without a sponsor, and no one wants to sponsor the intense kid with a bad attitude.

His ability to cast magic without any kind of aide or incantation launched him into the spotlight at an early age. Solomon has always been aware of what other people thought of him. When empty praise didn’t ingratiate his sycophants to him, it just as easily turned to criticism; kids are cruel, after all. As a result, Solomon has always struggled connecting with others.

By the time he realized he would have to work on his people skills to get anywhere, he was halfway through high school with a bad reputation, no friends, and no open doors.

(Funnily enough, it was around the same time that he met Simeon that he realized he needed to be less of an asshole if he was to ever get anywhere in life.

Simeon has been integral in teaching Solomon "how to person", as he puts it.)

“Who’s your new roommate, anyway?” Simeon asks when Solomon doesn’t respond to his comment. “I don’t think you said their name.”

"Did I not?” Solomon hums, “It’s someone named Mephistopheles.”

“Mephistopheles?” Simeon parrots, head tilting to the side, “Didn’t he get expelled?”

As Solomon opens his mouth to question Simeon, the door handle jiggles as someone unlocks it.

It swings open unceremoniously, followed by the quiet moans and shuffling of clothes as two people stumble inside the threshold. Simeon and Solomon can only watch in stunned silence as the taller, curly haired man presses a shorter woman against the wall, his face fully obscured in the curve of her neck as he lavishes it in open mouthed kisses.

Her eyelids flutter, he must be doing a great job--but the second she makes eye contact with Solomon, she shrieks.

“Asmo, Asmo wait--” The girl bats at his chest, her face bright red, “There’s people here!” Asmo pulls his face away from her skin to look at the room, a gorgeous smile on his face as he notices the others does not falter in the slightest.

“Oh, you’re Solomon!” Asmo smiles, before looking at Simeon, “And you’re Simeon. Lovely to meet you both.” Solomon looks at Simeon for some kind of hint as to what the fuck he should do here,  but Simeon also seems at a loss. Before either of them can say anything, Asmo slides a hand up the girl’s side to cup her cheek, speaking to them even as he stares deep into her eyes.

“Now, would the two of you kindly get out?”

-

-

-

The rest of living with Asmo is pretty much a continued repeat of their first meeting. Multiple times a week, sometimes once or twice in a day. Solomon has no fucking clue how someone like Asmo gets any schoolwork done, or hell, when the other gets sleep?

Regardless, it’s two weeks of Asmo getting laid and Solomon not getting proper amounts of sleep, and he’s sick of it.

“There need to be,” Solomon grimaces, swirling around in his desk chair but faltering as Asmo emerges from the bathroom, toweling his hair and jeans hanging low on his hips, “...ground rules.”

Asmo tilts his head, “Rules?” He says the words like it’s a foreign language, new and clunky in his pretty mouth. Solomon wants to sock him.

“You can’t keep bringing partners back here,” Solomon says. Asmo goes back to toweling his perfect fucking hair.

“And why is that?”

“I can’t concentrate on coursework or go to bed if you’ve got someone moaning in your bed every other night.”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” Asmo sniffs, and Solomon very quickly finds the situation slipping through his fingers. All of his phenomenally constructed arguments for why Asmo should be a respectful roommate have disintegrated in the face of Asmo’s pure obstinance. “Besides, where would I take my partners if not to my bedroom?”

“Their rooms. A dark alcove somewhere. A car. A bathroom. I don’t care--anywhere else but here.”

Asmo ponders this for a moment, before he shrugs his shoulders as he walks across the room to his drawers by the window, “Nope. I don’t think that’s considerate for them.” He digs through to presumably find a shirt, and Solomon bites the bullet.

“You’re on academic probation, aren’t you?” Solomon says, and Asmo freezes with his back turned to Solomon, tension evident in the line of his shoulders. When he turns around, his expression is colder than anything Solomon’s ever seen directed at him. In his brother Levi’s words, there it is: the infamous Bitch Smile.

“I didn’t know you cared about gossip,” Asmo looks like a dragon picking his teeth with human bones as he sits against the window sill.

The afternoon light drifting in through the sheer curtains casts him in an ethereal glow, and Solomon bites back his unnecessary request for Asmo to move out of such flattering lighting so he can negotiate with him properly.

“I don’t, which is how I know it’s true.”

“And? What? You’re going to try and blackmail me with this information?” Asmo sneers, but even crippling distaste is an attractive look for the other.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Solomon scoffs, “I’m offering to tutor you.”

Asmo blinks at that.

“I won’t tell anyone. You know my grades. Half of our required classes are together, so it’s not like it would put me under any more stress than not sleeping. And I’m not unreasonable,” Solomon says, “If you must bring people over, just let me know in advance and I’ll go to a coffee shop or the library. I do need to sleep, so I want them out by nine or ten at the latest.”

Asmo doesn’t immediately say no like Solomon thought he would, so things are already going much better than he expected. However, it still does not prepare him for Asmo’s response.

“Fine. Is that all you want?” He asks, and Solomon pointedly ignores the double entendre.  

“I want one of the shelves in the bathroom cabinet,” Solomon blurts, because Asmo has too many beauty products and there’s no space for him in the current set up. Asmo’s brow rises, even as his mouth twist into a wry, surprised smile.

“Maybe.”

“I can work with maybe,” Solomon smiles in return, standing and extending his hand out for a shake. “It’s a deal, then?”

Asmo stares at the hand, his expression unreadable, before something seems to break. He pushes off the window sill and in a few short strides, huffing with laughter, “What’s with the handshake? So formal.”

Solomon doesn’t rise to the bait even if there is a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. This is the first time they’ve touched, he realizes as his magic hums as Asmo’s hand is warm and steady in his own.

“It’s a deal.” Asmo says, and there’s a hint of interest in his eyes as he seems to see Solomon in a new light.

-

-

-

Solomon doesn’t mean to overhear it. He spends so much time in RAD’s library that it’s essentially his second home.

“How’s your shady roommate?” He hears a voice say, and it’s familiar enough to jarr Solomon from his thoughts.

A tinkling laugh, and Solomon blinks in realization. Asmo? Solomon tries to not eavesdrop, tries so hard to not let his interest wander from the potion formula in front of him, because it really has been giving him trouble...

“He’s not bad. Too stiff. Looks great when he comes out of the shower,” Asmo purrs. Solomon feels the bright pink blush rise to his cheeks. They’re talking openly about this in a library, of all places. RAD’s library is unreasonably huge, though--even on a busy weekday, one could be several aisles away from another human being in this space.

They’re both taking the same potions class, so it’s not too far off the mark that they’d both be in the same area looking for reading materials. Solomon should really just leave before he hears anything else that makes his ears burn.

“I don’t trust him.” Asmo’s brother, Satan, says. Of course. Solomon grinds his teeth. Asmo hmms.

“He definitely has a weird powerful vibe about him. I don’t blame you. His face just looks like he’s up to something,” Solomon swallows the spike of hurt that hits at Asmo’s words, even if he’s heard them before. Two months since he started tutoring Asmo. Three months since he moved in. Their cohabitation isn’t domestic, but it is at least civil. “I’ve seen him sleep but I don’t believe it, you know? I’ve never seen him do anything for fun. He’s so pent up and proper that I’m not sure how he does it.”

“He doesn’t.” Satan tsks, “You’ve heard about what happened, right?” Solomon feels his blood run cold.

That was different. It was an accident. He was a child. He was weak then. Solomon would never do anything like that on purpose again. Surely, surely Asmo wouldn’t--

“Of course! It figures though, all the super powerful kids are fucked in the head. But other than that, he’s not bad.”

But he’s not bad. But he’s not bad. As if Solomon would ever settle for not bad after such an callous description of his person. Fury, the kind that makes his magic churn under his skin at a rolling boil, rises in him: at Satan, at Asmo, at himself for.. For what? Believing that Asmo may actually have been different? That they could have been friends?

“What was that?” Satan asks, likely sensing the swirl of Solomon’s magic.

Cursing inwardly, he wrangles his wild emotions under control through years of practice. He will not prove them right. Solomon closes his textbook. His chair screeches against the floor as he stands, Satan and Asmo crossing out of the aisle into the open study area where Solomon has been seated, completely unhidden.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Satan accuses, his bright green eyes sharp and disdainful.

Years and years of diligently studying. Never losing his temper. His single minded determination to better himself has erected a wall that others look on in contempt. Do not prove them right about you, Solomon tells himself, nails digging into his palms hard enough to leave red crescent marks. Do not let the rumors be true.

He cannot look at Asmo, so instead, he smiles at Satan.

“No,” Solomon laughs, and the politeness in it is so fake that it hurts, “I was studying for the same test that Asmo is studying for. Voices carry quite well in a library.”

Satan glances at Asmo, but Solomon still cannot look at him. Tossing his book haphazardly into his bag, he throws it over his shoulder.

“I’ll leave the two of you to it, then.”

-

-

-

“Solomon, hey, wait!” Solomon is not running away, but he has a very brisk pace and does not feel bad when Asmo has to job to catch up with him. “Listen, about what I said--”

Solomon stops sharply enough that Asmo almost runs into him, but Solomon uses his magic to help steady Asmo. It isn’t to be helpful, it’s to stop Asmo from getting close enough to touch him, as if that will protect him from all of these hurt, churning emotions. He exhales through his nose.

“Since you’re actually taking the time to go to the library… I don’t think you need my help anymore.” Solomon forces himself to look at Asmo, steeling himself against whatever petulant expression is probably on the other’s face.

“Right?”

Asmo’s face is not petulant in the slightest. He seems… upset? Solomon feels the beast snarl inside him, a lick of rage at the downtrodden expression on the other’s face. He gets caught shit talking him openly and then has the gall to look hurt when he gets his free tutoring cut off? Asmo’s family is disgustingly rich and well connected. Let him lose his pride and ask them for help.

Solomon will last the year. He and Simeon will room together next year. Asmodeus will not be what breaks him.

Asmo falters at the intensity of Solomon’s gaze, the severity of his words.

“... Right.” Asmo says, and Solomon lets his feet carry him away before either of them say anything else.

- - -

After a week of tense, peaceful avoidance, Satan dropping into the seat opposite him at the campus coffee shop is the last thing Solomon expects.

“I apologize for my conduct the other day.”

Solomon blinks at him.

What is Satan doing here? Irritation immediately blossoms in his chest--he may not be furious anymore, but that doesn’t mean he wants to see Satan, nor had he expected to.

After cancelling their tutoring sessions, he’s made it a point to spend as little time in their (when had it become their room? It was always Asmo’s room at first) room as possible. Sure, it means spending garbage amounts of money on overpriced coffee and shitty wi-fi when the library gets too stuffy, but at least he can breathe.

None of that explains why Satan is here. Apologizing to him. Surely it must be some kind of a trap? A childish prank? Really? Would Asmo stoop so low? He doesn’t know either of these brothers enough to truly say. It’s best for him to be polite for now, until he can figure out Satan’s true motiv--

“You realize that a lot of people don’t trust you because there’s a moment on your face where you look like you’re actively plotting, and then you say some polite nonsense,” Satan says, and Solomon’s brain stops like a record screeching.

“Is this really an apology.” Solomon says, drily. Satan shrugs his shoulders.

“That was an observation. This is the apology.” Satan clears his throat, looking Solomon straight in the eyes. “It was unbecoming of me to speak of you like that in public. I should know better, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s what you thought,” Solomon says, because it’s true. It’s what they all think, and for a good chunk of his life, Solomon rarely tried to make them think differently.

“It was ignorant.” Satan’s bright green eyes stare into his own, and Solomon senses no dishonesty in his words. When Solomon speaks, he finds that he actually might believe them.

“Apology accepted.” Now leave me alone.

Satan narrows his eyes, “Really?” Solomon resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, really.”

“Will you speak to my brother again, then?”

“It’s a little presumptuous of you to ask for my forgiveness and a favor in the same breath.”

“Asmo flunked the last test,” Satan says, in lieu of a proper answer, “He’s in a world of shit at the moment.”

“Why doesn’t he try flirting with the professor?” Solomon scoffs.

Satan props his chin up on his hand with a lopsided smile that’s far more relaxed than he’s ever seen from the fourth brother, “That’s the thing, he hasn’t. Lucifer chewed him out about it and he took it with his tail between his legs rather than kick up a fit about it too.” Solomon’s quick mind lets him skip over the next lines of whatever shitty banter they’ve got to reach Satan’s point.

“You want me to tutor him again.” Solomon asks in disbelief, despite himself. Satan snorts and leans back.

“Nothing so pedantic as that,” Satan waves the notion away, “Just stop avoiding him at every turn, and hear what he has to say. If you’re still mad at him after that, then that’s perfectly reasonable too, considering my brother is one of the biggest assholes to ever exist. He’s unbearably dramatic when he gets into fights with his friends.”

“... Friends?”

Satan stares at him like he’s grown another head, “Obviously.”

Solomon laughs so hard, he’s sure that he’s confirmed all of Satan’s weird opinions of him.

-

-

-

“Solomon?” Asmo breathes his name, hand lingering on the doorknob as he enters the room to see Solomon sitting in his desk chair.

“Satan talked to me,” Solomon says, reveling in the stunned look on Asmo’s face, before crossing his arms, ”He apologized for what he said. And then he asked me to at least hear you out because you’re sulking.”  Asmo pouts at Satan’s words, and Solomon quirks his brow.

“Is he wrong?”

In response to this, Asmo’s face looks pained, lips pressing together as he glances to the side. He’s like a petulant child, Solomon thinks, even if he’s somehow still amused by the other’s expression.

When Asmo looks at Solomon, and he throws his hands up in the air,  “I shouldn’t have said it. There, are you happy?”

“Not really,” Solomon admits, “I understand why your brother might think that of me, but to hear it from someone that I’m helping out...” He adds a little bit of a softer, sadder tone to his voice to make Asmo writhe, and ha, does it work.

Asmo groans, ruffling his hands through his hair, “Alright, I’m a dick! Are you happy? I’m a gossipy bitch and I say things I shouldn’t. You helped me out and I.. took advantage of it. I’m sorry!” Asmo’s arms cross, and he looks so genuinely uncomfortable that Solomon wants to laugh.  

“You’re terrible at this. I was confused as to why Satan might say I can still be mad at you after you say your piece but.. I get it. You’re even worse than he is at it, dare I say.”

“You haven’t met our eldest brother,” Asmo sniffs, before continuing, “Besides, words and emotions are hard, bodies are easier,” Asmo shrugs, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“You sound like a bad high school drama,” Solomon scoffs, rolling over Asmo’s affronted gasp, “In any case, I heard you flunked the last test we shared. Maybe if you spent less time flirting with the TA in that class, you could retain the information on the board.” Solomon brings his knuckles to his chin, holding his elbow in his other palm.

“It can’t be helped. If we can get you set up with some extra credit there and you ace the next few exams that should keep your grade above water.” Solomon runs the numbers in his head, but Asmo is waving his hands in the air.

“Wait, wait, waaaait! You’re forgiving me?”

“I’m considering it. You have to make it up to me somehow, but as for the tutoring.. we’re too close to exams for me to want to deal with another roommate if you get yourself suspended. I don’t have blackmail material on anyone else, unfortunately.” Solomon’s kidding about the blackmail, but Asmo deserves a little ribbing after that awful apology.

Although Asmo doesn’t seem offended by the joke. No, it actually seems to be... the opposite? As he speaks, Asmo’s looking at him with a blinding smile.

“Are you listening to me?” Solomon frowns, knocked off balance by Asmo’s expression, “Because if you aren’t, I swear i’m going to--”

A flurry of motion, Asmo crosses the space of their room quicker than Solomon’s ever seen him.

Asmo’s hand cups his face, the other lands on his hip; Solomon has very little time to think, because Asmo’s gorgeous face is in centimeters away from his own. The scent of Asmo’s perfume fills his senses, rendering him stunned--Asmo glances down at his parted lips, and then back up at Solomon’s eyes.

Asmo kisses him, and Solomon’s magic blows out the fuses in their entire building.

-

-

-

In the chaos of their plunge into darkness, Solomon’s hands shooting out to shove Asmo back accidentally activates his magic, and Asmo stumbles a few paces further before falling to the ground.

“Ah,” Asmo yelps, at the same time Solomon rises from his seat, “What the hell, Asmo?”

They’re not in total darkness, thanks to the dim light from the streetlamps outside, but it still takes Solomon’s eyes a few seconds to adjust. Asmo’s vague form is still seated on the floor, propped up on his elbows.

“What was that?” He demands, still haunted by the firm press of Asmo’s lips against his. Asmo shifts to get up, and Solomon’s arm immediately reaches out to offer his assistance. Asmo huffs at the motion, but takes his hand anyway.

“I thought I could make it up to you this way.”

“By offering to, what, make out with me?” Solomon says, disbelief mounting. Asmo shrugs his shoulders, one hand trailing up Solomon’s hip.

“Sure, we could do that. We could do whatever you want,” and now that Solomon’s eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting, he can see the coy smile playing at Asmo’s lips, “I see how you look at me, how could you not? Besides, you’re quite handsome yourself…” Asmo purrs, his free hand reaching up to graze against Solomon’s blushing cheeks.

For a moment, Solomon hesitates--Asmo is gorgeous. Even if Solomon were deaf to the campus’ adoration of him, he would have to be blind as well to not realize that just by existing near Asmo. There’s always a mix of challenging and inviting in his eyes, an ease that shows itself in all of his movements. Asmo exudes a level of sensual energy that is a powerful skill in its own right, and Solomon is a healthy young adult…

But Solomon has no desire to fall into Asmo’s bed like another one of his hundreds of admirers, clamoring to get into the other’s bed space. He has more important things in mind.  

“That’s not what I meant by making it up to me!” Solomon is very proud of his voice not cracking as he pushes Asmo’s hand away, and the coquettish expression is quickly replaced by Asmo’s pout.

“Well, how else am I supposed to show you how truly repentant I am!” He whines at his failed seduction.

“I can’t even begin to explain how screwed up that is, Asmo.” Solomon groans, running his hand through his hair, “You could have offered me another shelf in the bathroom cabinet or more sink space and I would have considered it a start.”  

Asmo blinks, tilting his head to the side, “... Really? That’s all you want?” He seems stunned that someone would turn down his body.

“Now that I know you were going to offer your body, half of the sink sounds too fucking small, doesn’t it?” Solomon retorts, and Asmo laughs.

A loud knock startles both of them out of their conversation, and he hears the muffled voice of their RA from the other side.

“Are you alright in there? There’s been a power outage -- will you be alright casting magelight, or do you need flashlights?”

Solomon, in desperate need of a reprieve from Asmo’s… Asmo-ness… goes to open the door as the RA speaks. After a quick exchange of assuring the doting senior in their pajamas, Solomon shuts the door with a sigh. When he turns around, Asmo is seated in his desk chair with a soft pink magelight floating idly nearby. Asmo seems to be deep in thought, and Solomon approaches him with slight hesitation.

As soon as Solomon gets closer, Asmo’s gaze snaps up to look at him so suddenly that Solomon almost balks.

“I know what I can do for you,” Asmo says, his eyes twinkling with mischief and utter glee. The pink light casts an almost eerie, and somehow still enticing shadow on the other’s face.  

Solomon isn’t too proud to admit he’s terrified by whatever Asmo is about to offer.

-

-

-

“... So you didn’t sleep with him?” Simeon asks, and Solomon chokes on his tea.

“What! Of course not!” He coughs through his instantaneous response, pounding his fist on his chest. “He said… oh hell, I can’t say this, it’s ridiculous.” Solomon covers his face with his hands, an unbidden blush rising to his cheeks.

“He said he was going to make me popular,” Solomon groans, a little quieter in volume. Simeon is silent for a long enough time that Solomon takes his face out of his hands to look at him questioningly, but Simeon’s got one hand over his mouth as he shakes in stifled amusement.

“Wh--” At Solomon’s confused expression, Simeon is unable to contain himself any longer, bursting into a loud fit of laughter. Simeon throws his arms around Solomon in a crushing hug, even as Solomon tries to shove his way out of it.

“Oh, this is going to be great.”  

-

-

-

I feel like this would definitely be considered #crack or #ooc slightly because it’s always hard to translate personalities that are defined by specific experiences (such as being alive for thousands of years) into any AU, but especially ones where they’re only 19/20 year olds lmaaoo

Facets of their personalities I tried to keep: Solomon’s ambition/the fact that people think he’s so shifty, and Asmo’s sexual bravado/blatant insecurities of his person. Who knows if that comes off here, but hey, I had fun lkajflaks

As always, ty for reading!!! I appreciate your kind words and responses on my stuff ;w;

[polygamyff]

Epilogue

“Also write down that we both are going to have a brunch in California, meeting business partners. Do not forget Malik, honestly” this nigga forgets things “I have wrote it down, well typed it out. I will be there. Do you want anything for lunch? I am going to pick up a pizza?” Malik asked, I paused thinking do I really want a pizza or not “I don’t want pizza, get me a sandwich. Anything, surprise me” Malik nodded his head as he left my office, that is one thing done now let me get these cheques signed off that need to be done “incoming” the intercom came on out of nowhere, I hate that shit and Ally be scaring me with it. My office door burst open “I got here first!!” Reign screamed, frowning at both Reign and Romano “uhm, what is this?” looking at Jay, he just shrugged “why are you here and not at home?” watching Reign walk around my desk “because I told Jay he had to bring me here and also” Reign tugged at my chair “I want to sit on your lap!” moving my chair back “also I didn’t want to stay with the nanny, she is boring and mom got called in so I said Jay let’s go and see dad and we can sit with him. Romano snitched on us. He told mom, and then mom started shouting on the phone, but I disconnected the phone” Reign climbed onto my lap “why do you listen to these kids?” I said to Jay “she told me she could fire me!” Jay pointed half shouting “I did not say that I just said it nicely. Jay likes me, so what are we doing dad” I sighed out “you know your mom is going to drive me crazy, are you ok Romano. Come here” waving him over, he seems out of breath “you both been running around the hotel again” moving back in my chair “I am tired dad” he whined “he is unhealthy dad, I said it to him” Reign does not stop, wrapping my arm around him “you’re only seven Reign, stop acting grown. He is not unhealthy” pressing a kiss to the top of his head “we said bye to the nanny though, she told me I was naughty but dad! Listen to me” Reign grabbed my head “I am listening, what is it?” looking at her “the baby is annoying, all he does is cry” I chuckled “that is what babies are like Reign, you’re supposed to be a good big sister” Reign pulled a face “I don’t want to be it anymore, can I do something dad! Can I do work with you” I ain’t about to do any type of work now.

I got to laugh, Malik bought pizza for himself and my kids ate it for themselves “uncle, can you take us to get candy?” poking my head up “no, Malik ignore Reign. You sit there and finish that drawing and eating whatever Malik gave you” my desk phone started to ring, picking it up “Maurice” I answered, “I been trying to call your mobile, why do you keep putting it down!” Robyn spat, looking at Reign “your daughter has my phone, Reign! Have I had phone calls on my phone” Reign looked at me with her cute little face and puppy dog eyes “no” she shook her head “she said no” I answered Robyn “don’t let her use you Maurice, you know she did. I specifically told her to not go anywhere, I told Jay to ignore her. I left her with the nanny, and this is what she does!” Robyn is not happy “I know but she is bored at home” I am siding with my daughter, Robyn is not going to like it “but what I say goes Maurice, you know that. My son told me; mommy Reign is telling us to go. You speak to her before I do” I am not the strict one “she is just demanding; she means well Bonita” Robyn scoffed “pootie, no. I got called in anyways, so I will see you tonight” that means she isn’t cooking “uh, ok. I wanted to ask baby; I thought your mom is coming back today?” I swear she was “you want her back because she can handle Reign, but her flight got delayed, I said to her that dick made her late. She is loving this man a little too much” I chuckled “no problem, love you speak soon” Terry is always away now with this new man “love you too pootie” she disconnected the call “Reign-Texas” putting the phone the down “uh oh” she said, she knows “why are you upsetting your mom? Sabes lo molesta que se pone tu mama” Reign got up from the floor “No papi, no yo, estoy Buena” Reign made her way to me saying, she makes me so soft “what am I going to do with you” I sighed out “me estás mintiendo?” I said, Reign shook her head “no papi” I can’t be angry with her “mom said she can’t speak Spanish in the house” Romano shouted “Cállate idiota!” Reign shouted back “it’s because he doesn’t know dad, this is because we know and he don’t” putting my hand over her mouth “ok, no more Spanish now” Reign be getting me in trouble.

These kids are driving me crazy, so I am going home early “did you sign anything or do anything?” Ally asked me “no, sorry. Malik will do it” if Romano holds my hand then Reign has to hold my hand, it’s just a constant back and forth with them “Ally! When are you coming to the home again? Jay misses you” Ally laughed at Reign “he does? Tell me more?” Ally said smirking “well I would but you need to come to my tea party, I invited you” shaking my head “anyways, I am going now. Come on, say bye to Ally” Jay is holding the elevator open for us “taking your damn time!” Jay spat “go and run to Jay” I said, they both let my hand go as they ran off “have a good evening Mr Davenport” one of my workers said “thank you” watching Romano run back to me “what you doing back big man?” picking him up “because then I can hug you in peace, Reign is annoying” I chuckled at Reign clocking him “hey, he cheated” stepping onto the elevator “we all cheated, let’s just go home and you can then explain to the nanny why you left her. And I mean Reign” Jay is laughing “is that because Robyn has scolded you to take action?” Jay asked but he knows damn well Robyn has demanded it “yes, and I have to obey. The women in my life are too demanding. I can’t take it” not even going to lie but I don’t really get to give my attention to Romano as much as I do Reign because she wants it constantly.

Stepping off of the elevator “what is this, daddy day care?” my sister pointed “you made it and yes it is, Malik is waiting for you, but I have to go home. These kids out here playing around” putting Romano down “hello Haviah, come here. Give uncle a hug” my niece looks so damn cute “go and give uncle a hug” my sister said, hugging Haviah “awww you want to come to uncle house today?” picking her up “I am seeing daddy today” letting out an oh “that is ok then you can come another day, Shawn seeing her then” placing her down “yes he is, for the weekend. He is picking her up from here” nodding my head “all is well then, and no. Shawn can drop dead, I am not over it after all these years” Nalah laughed as I walked by her “have a good weekend!” I hope I do; Robyn be giving me orders and we have to do fun things for the kids when I just want to rest “dad, can we go and get some candy. I mean we are already out?” Reign asked “nope, we have things at the house you can pick from, we are going straight home” I am not going to go nowhere.

Walking up the steps “why can’t you just open the baby gate Reign, climbing over it for. It is dangerous” picking Romano and placing him over the baby gate “hey Ramiro, hey little man. I missed you” opening the baby gate, my son in this walker is a nightmare, he is everywhere “awww you coming to me, and nice seeing you here” picking Ramiro out of the walker “thought I would pop in” pressing a kiss to his cheek “say hi to grandma and say sorry to Krista and Selena now!” I said to Reign and Romano, they both out here acting out “I am, Romano you go first!” shaking my head lightly watching my daughter bully him, I am just going to keep quiet on this because I am not choosing favourites “how have you been anyways?” my mom asked “erm ok, just busy with work really trying to get some deal out and meetings. What about yourself?” things have repaired between myself and my mother and that really makes me happy “I am ok Maurice, moving to the new apartment with Malik has been fun. He has done most of the work anyways” nodding my head smiling “well it’s been a long time coming. Both of you moving in together, Selena. Do you accept their sorry? It’s ok if you don’t” she laughed “I do, they are both sorry” Reign stuck her tongue out at me “Reign, shall we go and play in my room now?” Romano asked, “boy room is horrible, let’s go in mine” Reign ran ahead “play nicely please” one of them will be crying soon.

Robyn is back very late; I mean she isn’t even back yet “are you in bed then Mi Amor?” knocking on her door as I walked in “yes dad! No!! Romano can’t come in” she pointed “then I am not coming in either, my boy is either coming in or we both not” Reign scoffed “you make everything so hard dad! Fine” picking Romano up and sitting him at the side of Reign’ bed “so you want a story or just a kiss goodnight tonight” Reign stopped to think “tell us more about granddad” Romano pointed at the picture on Reign’ side table, staring at the picture of my dad and Reign. I do miss that man, a lot “you don’t remember him, the end” I chuckled “why are you so rude? Romano was just a baby still, I mean you don’t remember much either” correcting Reign “but I have lots of pictures and I do remember, he liked me” rolling my eyes “anyways, he was a very strict man” grabbing the seat from Reign’ vanity table “you got to put that back dad” sitting down on it “I always do, so” Romano got off from Reign bed and sat on my lap “he was bought up in a strict household and he did the same with me, he loved me but he showed me everything the hard way and showed me the hard way about things, but the difference with me is I want to show you all love, equally. Nobody is better then the other, not like Reign thinks” Reign’ face lit up “hi mom!!” she spat, Romano straight ran off to her, looking behind me “dad is boring us” my son is such a mommies boy “I can tell, you all should be asleep now. I will put him to sleep Maurice” Robyn said, nodding my head “mom still angry with me?” my daughter is just so grown, and so bossy “she gets annoyed that I let you off, she thinks you are my favourite” Reign smirked “but you’re my favourite, you’re my hero dad” getting up from the seat “stop it now” I said.

Reign is my favourite; she is actually my everything and I adore her so much. She gets my attention the most, this is the reason why she knows Spanish because she spent the most time with me and Robyn is trying to stop that and I don’t want to be like my dad but you do have that child you like the most, Reign is just like me “I missed you Bonita, what happened today? It was your time off” closing the bedroom door behind me “it was an emergency and I was the closest person they could call up on but then I get a call from Jay and I hear Romano telling me they are on a trip” placing my hands at the side of Robyn’ face, pecking her lips “we have head strong kids, Romano is no angel either. He is quiet with it” wrapping my arms around Robyn “we do, them two are like twins to me but did you hear? Ally is pregnant” I gasped “huh, what? I wasn’t told this!” I spat “office gossip doesn’t get around? She literally text me saying, how sweet is that. Did your mom come today? She wanted to see the kids, least your mom comes back. My mother is living her damn life, this home isn’t no hotel” Robyn is funny “let her have fun, she deserves. Grumpy” I always knew Terry would find herself a rich man that would love her.

[baby-bearie]

Verus Amor

description: while peter searches for criminals, y/n searches for true love.

a/n: oh my gosh. i have a lot to say before i actually get to the piece. this fic is for @afterglowparker1k writing challenge. this has been one of the greatest writing experiences of my life, and it took forever. three different storylines with multiple drafts of each, and finally this one just took off. i do want to thank a few people, because i went to them when i got stuck:

thank you for putting up with me and being exemplary writers: @seqveydaniel@coolkidcorbyn @katie-avery @cloudsncoffee @dxnielseavey @danieldelicate @jackscorbytch @keepseaveyweird @zachheroin @seaveyssparkle

and to these accounts that even though they don’t know me at all, took time to answer my questions: @naturallytom @starksparker

all of you are such big inspirations

word count: 3, 266

warnings: absolute fluff, language, mentions of violence

 tags: @everybody up there^^ @perfectlyseavey @tempus-ut-luceant @kindparker @5sos-seavey @daniel-darling

“Peter, I swear to god, if you don’t shut up, I will take off these heels and come after you.” Your words were dangerous, but your tone stayed light, hiding a smile and snapping your eyes to Peter’s in the vanity mirror in front of you. He smiled, from his position sitting at the end of your bed. He threw his keys up in the air again before falling back onto your bed, legs still hanging over the edge. You reached for your left-side earring, fastening the backing. 

“I’m just saying, what if his tattoo ends up being, like, a dick or something? Do you really want a dick on you forever?”

“Pete, don’t start on guessing other people’s tattoos until you’ve showed me yours.”

“I just don’t like showing it to people, I told you!”

You reached for your perfume, spritzing it onto your wrist. Your eyes latched onto the imprinted, permanent black and white image of a paper airplane folded into a map. Your hand traced over it and you wondered who, if anyone, wore your tattoo. You had been waiting for your soulmate for all your life. You wanted to meet them, and even if it was supposed to be painful, you couldn’t wait for your second tattoo. Your soulmate’s tattoo. It wasn’t uncommon for someone your age to have not found their love by now, most people only got there when they were nearly 20. But for you, you didn’t even want to stick around after high school. You would take off and travel the world, hence the paper airplane. It really did fit you. 

So if you wouldn’t be able to wait for your soulmate then, you needed to find them now. To prepare yourself, you had managed to memorize the tattoos of every boy you found, for the slightest sliver of a chance that maybe they were the one. But, when six-year-old Y/n asked six-year-old Peter Parker what his tattoo was so that she could write it into her list, his hand flew to his shoulder, and he shouted a “No!”, remembering how his uncle had told him to not show it to anyone, even Peter didn’t know what it meant. You weren’t one to take no for an answer, and continued to bug Peter about it, even if that meant spending almost every second of your time around the boy. You continued to pester him about it for the eleven years you had been his friend. 

“What is your point here, Peter?” 

“That Flash is a dick? And that you shouldn’t go out with him?”

“We’re 17. We’re supposed to find our true love in a couple years. I’m just looking.”

“Flash, though? Really?”

You turn around in your chair, head cocked at Peter, eyebrows raised up in a baffled expression. 

“Yes, really.” You got up and smoothed out your red shirt. You walked past Peter, who sat up. You bent down to kiss his cheek, and he sighed, defeated.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow, lock the door when you leave! Love you!” You called to him as you rushed out the door. Peter heard the door fall shut.

“Not like I do.” Peter sighed and stood, finding himself in your mirror. He lifted his shirt just the slightest and his eyes fixated on the paper airplane crossed with patterns of lines he knew too well. He had memorized them long ago, five days after he met you in the first grade. The day before you finally showed him your tattoo in a desperate bargain to see his, and the day before little Pete realized he had fallen in love with the annoying girl on his playground. Peter dropped his shirt and the reached to scrunch up his sleeve, exposing his shoulder. He stared at the spider, the same one that was splayed across his chest for the world to see every night he wore the suit.

Hiding something like that for two years had been extremely difficult. He would slap away Y/n’s hands quite often and excuse himself by saying his collarbone was hurting. At this point, Y/n was worried for his temperamental collarbone. He refused summer invitations to the pool and the beach. He stopped wearing tank tops, deciding he didn’t want to risk exposing the spider. Peter tugged his sleeve back over his shoulder, eyes moving to meet themselves in the mirror. He ran a hand through his hair. His eyes drifted to his own wrist then, catching the small watch. The hands ticked, reading as 5:00. Peter needed to be home by 6:00.      

Really, you weren’t expecting much out of a date with Flash Thompson. He wasn’t the greatest guy ever, and you knew that going into the date. But you had tried nearly every other approach, and by this point you were desperate to find your soulmate, even if that meant reaching for short straws. Half-way through the date, you found yourself getting quite bored. Flash had managed to go for a full hour talking about nothing but himself and how much he hated your best friend. You were sick of it, and nodding along to whatever shit he was blabbering about, you tugged your phone out. Under the table, you shot a text to Peter.

moron: hey pete

idiot: of course

moron: don’t say it

idiot: i told you so

You couldn’t help but smile down at your phone, biting your lip.

“Y/n?” You looked up, noticing Flash looking at you funny, eyebrows quirked expectantly.

“Oh, sorry, where were we?” You forced a smile, and acted interested.

“Like I was saying, I wanted to go for the,”

You let his voice fade out of your senses once again. He didn’t notice, too engrossed in the story of his own accomplishments. You looked back at your phone once he was no longer paying attention.

moron: yeah, yeah. come get me? don’t think i can wait this one out

idiot: can’t, i’ve got some stuff

moron: since when do you have stuff?

idiot: hey, i have a life. it’s for the internship

moron: god damn that internship

idiot: try to get ned to get you?

moron: i already did

idiot: you went to ned before me??

moron: duh, you would’ve been annoying about it. like you’re being right now

idiot: hey, i told you not to go. now you gotta stay

moron: mhm. hate you.

idiot: i know. i’ll text you later

You looked at Flash, now fully regretting coming on this date. There obviously wasn’t any sense of love you could feel. There obviously wasn’t any prickling sensation to go along with the missing butterflies. This obviously wasn’t it. You studied his face, and there were no sparks. His lips were moving, but you had long stopped paying attention to anything that came from them.

“And that’s when I-“Oh my gosh, you know what?” 

You interrupted him, “I think I forgot to throw out a box. You know, can’t procrastinate or it’ll never get done.”

“Oh, uh-“I can walk home, you stay and finish.”

You stood, smoothing your shirt and grabbing your purse. “Uh, well-“Bye, Flash!” You called, the bell jingling behind you as you walked out of the cafe. You had loved that cafe, and now it had been ruined. You wouldn’t be able to step into that cafe without thinking of this date. Wonderful.

Your feet carried you quickly today, almost as quick as the pace of the thoughts rushing in and out of your mind. So, you could definitely cross Flash off of your list. The list was growing shorter and shorter. At this point, you were about to give up hope. Where was he? Where was your true love? You had stressed about this since you were a little girl. You had grown up in a house with two happy, in love parents. They had been an exemplary pair of soulmates, never really losing any ounce of their love for each other. Growing up seeing that, and seeing your older siblings fall in love and get married, you’d always wanted that. You’d always been waiting for that, and at one point decided waiting wasn’t enough.

Now, it was nearly 9. You climbed up the stairs quietly, not really in the mood to tell your parents all about how your date had gone. They were as ready as you were for you to find your soulmate and always became excited whenever you mentioned a new boy.

You opened your room and flicked on the light, flopping backwards onto your bed. You covered your face with your hands and sighed.

“Hey.”

You snapped up, turning to look at Peter, who climbed in through your window. He gave you a weak smile, then winced.

“Peter! You scared me!” You put a hand over your chest and took a deep breath. He sat on your desk.

“So, the date was horrible, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. What was I expecting? It’s Flash.”

Peter laughed, and then winced again.

“Hey, are you okay- oh my gosh, what happened?”

You stood to move to him, pushing down the hood of his hoodie. Your hand found his cheek, running your thumb over the purple bruise. It traveled to his forehead, pushing back his hair and you leaned closer to study the bloody cut starting at his hairline. It moved down to his chin, lifting it up so you could run a finger over his split bottom lip.

Your mouth parted, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “What, did some Stark executive beat you up over there?”

“Uh, not quite?”

You pulled Peter’s hand forcing him to stand up. He was suddenly taller than you, and your eyes followed up, and he looked back down at you. You put your hands on his shoulders, turning him and pushing him to the bathroom. He didn’t resist, walking backwards with you as you guided him. You pushed him into the counter and he hoisted himself up next to the sink. You squatted down, opening the cabinet to grab a box of vaseline and antibiotic ointment. You wet a towel and pressed it to his bruised cheek.

“This happened last week too. You ready to explain?” You muttered, eyes glancing down from the bruise to meet his. He looked away.

“No?” You looked back up to his injuries, backing away. You set down the towel and washed out his cuts.

“I’m not trying to get beat up.”

“Yeah, you’re not trying not to either.”

His hands gripped your hip bones, stopping your frantic searching for wherever the Neosporin was. You stopped and looked at him.

“Hey,” His voice was quiet. His eyes looked up into yours, searching for something. You put your hands on his shoulders, suddenly aware of how close he was to you, trying to create a little bit of distance.

“Did you hear about the guy who got his whole left side cut off?”

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, the corners of you mouth ticked up.

“What?”

“He’s alright now.”

You broke into laughter, never able to stay mad at him for long, your head fell to his shoulder before you pulled away and lightly shoved his shoulder. He grinned, grip tightening on you before pulling you closer to him again.

Your laughter faded, leaving just the shadow of a smile. Peter’s smile matched yours, eyes still studying your face like they always did. You took in a deep breath, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his eyes. And then you felt it.

Your stomach was full of butterflies. Peter sat in front of you, looking at you with adoration like he usually did. But this was different. It felt different. His eyes on you felt different and his hands on you felt different. You took a deep breath, nearly gasping for air.

You took a step back, and Peter’s hands dropped from your hips.

“All good to go.”

He didn’t get up quite yet.

“Thank you, Y/n. You really are the best.” He stood, stepping closer to lean down and press a kiss to your cheek. And then he was climbing out the window, turning to look back at you. His mouth opened, as if to say something before he closed it, turning back around and then he was gone.

Your cheeks burned, and you could feel the blush seeping in. You finally got ready for bed, jumping under the covers. After that day, you wanted to sleep as deep as you could. But you couldn’t. 

You laid awake in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

What was that? Were those what butterflies felt like? Why did your cheeks start burning when Peter kissed you? He always did that before he left. So what changed?

“Holy shit,” you whispered. Your eyes widened. “I’m in love with Peter.”

Because of your late night, you had a late morning. You slept through your multiple alarms, rolling out of bed. You jumped up, tripping over the blankets you had brought down with you. With zero care about the events of last night, you ran around your room, grabbing clothes from hangers while your toothbrush hung from your mouth. With 2 minutes to go, you stood in front of your mirror in Peter’s hoodie and black leggings, your immediate lazy outfit. You grabbed a hair tie to put your hair up, and the sleeves of Peter’s hoodie dropped to your elbow. And you saw it. The hair tie lay on the floor, long forgotten as you inspected the ink on the inside of your forearm. 

Your jaw went slack. “Oh my god.” 

There it sat. A spider. A black spider. The spider. You recognized that spider, anyone from New York would recognize that spider. Why was it on you?

Your eyes stared at themselves, realization pooling in them. “Oh my god.”

You yanked the sleeve down, and grabbed your bag, now rushing to school for a different reason. 

“Y/n!”

It wasn’t that you didn’t hear them. You did, but you simply turned and gave them a tight-lipped smile over your shoulder before you kept moving down the hallway, leaving behind your confused friends. Your feet hit the ground repeatedly, beat-up converse making quick thud noises with each step.

And then you saw him.

“Peter!” You called, picking up into a light jog.

Peter turned to face you, closing his locker. He smiled, but it faded into a questioning expression as he took you in, hair a bit tangled and eyes fiery.

You stopped in front of him, a bit out of breath. You took a deep breath in, before pressing your lips together and raising your eyebrows, throwing your hands in the air.

Peter laughed, a little nervously.

“What?”

You grabbed his arm, pulling him into a nearby doorway before you paused and closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Y/n-Ow!” You whacked his arm.

“Seriously?” You spoke, whacking him again.

“Y/n, why- Ow, Y/n, stop!” He jumped, and you whacked him again.

“Spider-man? Really?” You spoke through gritted teeth, your voice low so you wouldn’t alert others around you.

Peter’s eyes widened as you hit him again.

He grabbed your arm as it lifted to hit him again, then taking the second in his hand, clutching both your wrists with his hands.

“Why would you think I’m Spider-man?” Peter laughed, eyes darting off to the side.

You shook your head, giving him a pointed look. “Drop it, spidey-boy. I can tell when you’re lying.”

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed, finally meeting your eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You tugged your hands out of his and gasped as whacked him again. You gritted your teeth and whispered. “Peter, enough. I know.”

You stepped back and yanked up your sleeve, revealing the tattoo.

Peter’s eyes got even bigger, reaching for your arm, he inspected it, and then looked back up at you. He took you in all over again. Your eyes burned bright with fury, hair loose and frizzy. Your cheeks were flushed red, and the skin under his hands was warm. You were beautiful.

His smile was light, disbelieving. “This- this is my tattoo.”

You yanked your arm away, hitting him again. “God damn it, Peter, I know that.”

You hit him once more. “You couldn’t have told me you were Spider-man?” Another hit. “Told me why you could never pick me up?” Another hit. “Told me why you were showing up at my house at night all beat up?” Another hit. “You and your stupid fake, shitty internship!”

You looked up at Peter, noticing his stuck expression. A light smile, mouth slightly parted. His eyes looked down at you, and they were filled with such love it made yours full of love too. He took your hands in his, turning over the wrist without the spider, showing you your own tattoo. His thumb rubbed over the small paper airplane, following each dotted line of the map. He looked back at you again, smiling widely now. He let go of you again, folding his arms and stepping back.

“My tattoo’s on you.” He finally spoke, smirking wildly.

You shrugged, rolling your eyes. “Yes. And?”

“You know what that means?”

“No?”

“You love me.”

“Shut up, Peter.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I love you too.”

“Oh my god, Peter, I said- wait, what?”

Peter smiled again, and lifted the hem of his shirt.

“Woah, spidey, not just hey, you can keep your shirt on.”

He rolled his eyes, turning to the side to show you his hip.

You took a step closer, pushing his shirt up and leaning to look. And you recognized it. The folded paper, the dotted lines of a map, it was your tattoo.

You stood straight again and Peter beamed at you. You whacked him.

“You didn’t even tell me you had my tattoo?” Whack. “You knew how hard I was looking for my soulmate, and you knew it was you?”

“Ow- Y/n, calm down!” He stopped you, pushing your arms to your sides.

“No, Peter. I’m mad.” You shook your head.

Peter smiled and raised your chin to look at you.

“Hey. I love you.” He grinned.

You looked away. Peter made you look back at him.

“C’mon, I know you want to say it. Say it.”

You made a face at Peter and sighed.

“Fine, Peter. I love you too.” You tried to hide your smile.

He envelopes you in a big hug, and you wriggled in his arms.

Your voice came out muffled by his jumper.

“Alright, gonna swing me to class, Spidey-Boy?” You squirmed out of his arms and began to walk to your class.

“Boy? Man! Spider-Man! Y/n!”