#always late and doesn’t give a damn but right now it’s fuckin important

[legally-killable-sparrow]

This guy sitting here saying ooh I’ll finish my coffee in ten min and then go take a shower well it’s been fifteen minutes bitch and my Lyft is coming in thirty with or without you.

Don’t fuckin sigh like this is stressful for you when I remind you that you need to start getting ready to go five minutes ago bitch I’m the one goin to the doctor to see if there’s something severely wrong with my goddam internal organs, you’re just here for support stop making me stressed because you’re eternally late and even more inifinitely uncaring that this messes shit up for other people

[theyscreamjade]

Hello Jade! I was wondering if you could do some head cannons with the main trio as villains who meet the pro hero reader after crashing a hero gala or important event and take one look at the reader and think “They’re mine, no matter what”. Thank You!

I’ve Got My Eyes On You~

「 Yeah, I’m alive ya’ll. Baby, it’s been hard as hell to write lately, I apologize for the in and outness. However, I’m taking a break from school so I’m sure I’ll update more! ෆ」

⊰ 18+! (Anyone who’s underaged will be blocked!)ও

↬ word count: 1.1kෆ

↬ Disclaimer: Cursing, Kidnapping, Stalking.

⧽ You were always on his radar since you were announced to the world for saving someone. 

⧽ Mister Deku couldn’t get you out of his head, he was hooked. 

⧽ From your style, personality, and much more. He could make a list of reasons why he liked you and desired to have you.

⧽ Unlike how most imagine, he and Shiggy are practically alike…and tend to whine to get what they desire. 

⧽ (They whine to Kurogiri, mostly)

⧽ So, this is the night you’ve been waiting for! You’ve ranked up and found your way towards the rankings. 

⧽ You’re one of the top twenty fan-favorite heroes, which boosted your ranking and confidence by a thousand.

⧽ You nearly lost your mind when you were given the news and tonight’s the night. 

⧽ You sat at your table with a few of your friends, dressed to the best and ready to hear your name and rank you were to be at. 

⧽ You deserved this.

⧽ You desired this. 

⧽ “Y/N!” Present Mic announced to a crowd with a missing you. 

⧽ Everyone paused and looked around in confusion, unsure as to how and what the fuck happened and how you even were fuckin lost. 

⧽ You were right there! 

⧽ Yeah, so, Izuku disgusted himself as a waiter. He taped your shoulder and lied to get you towards the back since..you know, your name was going to be called. 

⧽ You followed Izuku’s instructions, following the server just to be knocked out with a mist.

⧽ You fell right into his arms, and he smiled happily. 

⧽ “Look at them…they look so adorable like this..” he complimented before handing Shigaraki his empty tray. 

⧽ “Collect as much food as you think we’d need...I’ve got what I want.” He ordered while walking out the back door. 

⧽ “They’re all mine now. All mine.”

⧽ There’s something about Villian Bakugou that concerns me. 

⧽ He doesn’t fall in love normally, he falls for someone who can keep up, or think ahead of him. 

⧽ That’s how he fell for you, every other villain couldn’t keep up or couldn’t think like him. 

⧽ You? 

⧽ You knew his every move and were able to do something that no one could ever do. 

⧽ You captured him for the first time and stole his heart in the process. 

⧽ After that, he was obsessed with you. He watched every new piece about you. 

⧽ Any magazine that had your face, he had it. He wanted to know every last and single detail about you. 

⧽ His stalker vibes were coming out full swing and some of the inmates were kind of concerned and confused as to why. 

⧽ So, when he received the news that you were now one of the top ten heroes and were to receive an award at the Heroes Gala. 

⧽ He knew he had to be there to give you a celebratory congratulations.

⧽ While you were getting all glammed and prepared, he was broken out of prison and heading straight towards the city. 

⧽ All the heroes would either be too damn busy to worry about a villain breaking out of the highly protected prison system ever so…he didn’t waste time.

⧽ You sat with family and friends, your significant other was there too. 

⧽ The second you heard your name, you stood on your feet while everyone clapped around you. 

⧽ You felt your accomplishments and hard work within the reach of your fingertips, each step towards the stage you took. 

⧽ Until a loud explosion blasted through the ceiling, Bakugou’s signature sonic Boom which creates a terrible after-effect. 

⧽ Your ears ring and affect your balance, so in seconds. You were in Bakugou’s arms while holding your head in agony. 

⧽ He flew with you in his arm, the other held the end of the ladder. The sound of the chopper didn’t help the pain in your ears. 

⧽ You tried to focus and use your quirk, but you can’t when your ears are ringing this badly. 

⧽ “Don’t even fight it, baby bear. I’ve been waiting for you~” he whispered, looking at you as though you were in agony.

⧽ “You’re all mine, mine.” He growled in a possessive tone, landing with you at his new secret lair. 

⧽ Shoto didn’t have a great mentor (Dabi.) 

⧽ Basically, his brother told him if there’s something you want, “Go and Get it.”

⧽ Touya fucked up when he told him that shit, why? 

⧽ Because the person he wants is you, the fuckin number one hero of the ENTIRE agency! You overtook their father and kept the city safe in your own way. 

⧽ The only reason why Shoto even likes you is because how you overtook their father, talked shit about them then kept yourself up there. 

⧽ The man was mesmerized by someone who wanted the top and got their way to it. 

⧽ Which brings us here, you walking into the Heroes Gala. You dawn your best, sparkling your way into the luxurious building. Cameras flashed, and reporters asked thousands and thousands of questions. 

⧽ They wanted to know, they desired to know about you..though Shoto knew everything about you. 

⧽ He’s a stalker with some knowledge for and about you, he’s basically Nardwuar for your ass. He knows where you were even conceived. 

⧽ You’re one of a kind and he couldn’t just kidnap you normally.

⧽ He had to take you in the best and safest way possible….and he kind of discovered your fears too. 

⧽ You sat with your friends and family, hearing the paparazzi outside. You were laughing happily at a joke at one of your friends told you.

⧽ Then the room became silent, randomly and completely unexpectedly. You opened your eyes, seeing everyone knocked out around you.

⧽ Heads in either food or water while the rest were on a table or the floor. You stood up and immediately got into position for a battle. 

⧽ You needed to investigate and find out, you needed to know. 

⧽ You walked towards the back, checking and investing everyone around you..trying to understand what was even happening. 

⧽ How did everyone else get knocked out..but you’re fine? 

⧽ You stepped onto a drop door, instantly disappearing into the floor.

⧽ A loud splash echoed through the empty room, your body was submerged in your worst fear. Water. 

⧽ You kicked, flayed, and tried to swim to the top before cold over took your body. Suddenly, you were frozen solid. 

⧽ The light flickered on and your eyes met his mix-matched ones. 

⧽ “You look absolutely breathtaking….too bad no one else will ever see you again. I’m never going to let you go. You’re mine.” He told you, snapping his fingers as your body was rolled into a large frozen meat truck. 

⧽ “Mine only.” These were the last words you heard before the doors of the truck were closed and you were taken away from the building. 

[forever-rogue]

His + Hers

Summary | You didn’t want a bodyguard and certainly didn’t need one. Bucky didn’t want the job. But as soon as the two of you meet, all bets are off.

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.2k

Warnings | language (including light degradation, possessive!Bucky, smut (oral - f receiving, piv) - minors dni or you will be blocked

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I don’t need anyone to watch over me,” rolled eyes and loudly snapped gum. Crossed legs and an anxiously jiggling foot. The aging clock ticked loudly as your gaze burned into the giant dual monitors that shielded the man on the other side. He had just oh so casually dropped some horrible news to you. 

What was his name? Jeff? Jeffrey? Jefferson? It didn’t matter. Funny. For a man that you’d seen more often than your father in recent years, you’d think you might have remembered his name. Despite all that you still hadn’t seen him more than four, save five, times.

“Those are your father’s wishes.”

“Then why isn’t he here telling me this?”

“He’s a very busy man.”

“A man too busy to see own daughter, his own child, always work, work, working,” you spat, “what he could be doing that’s so important that he couldn’t even spare me fifteen minutes of his time?”

“He’s-”

“It was a rhetorical question,” you stood up and grabbed your bag, “sometimes it still shocks me that a man that claims he loves me so much he barely speaks to me, sees me. I don’t want this bodyguard - if you send them to me I will simply send them away. Don’t waste my time or theirs.”

“Your father is going to send someone regardless of your wishes, you must know this by now.”

“Tell him if he’s so insistent upon me being chaperoned like a puppy that he can come and talk to me himself,” you threw your shoulders back as you tried to chase away emotions or feelings. This was not the time or place for them, “see you in another six months for so.”

“Miss -”

You slammed the door shut before he could say anything else. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bucky’s groan was heavy - irritated - as he trudged up the stairs to the ninth freaking floor. Of course you couldn’t live somewhere near the bottom. Of course the elevator was broken, “I’m gonna murder you, Wilson.”

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, he calmed himself with every single step. Left foot, right foot, and repeat. Before he knew it, he arrived on your floor, less angry but still annoyed. 

Bucky looked around for your apartment number, finding it quickly but wishing he hadn't. It was supposed to be a simple job - hang around you for a little while until things calmed down around your father. There was never any huge threat to you, but you were to be kept safe anyway. Typical rich people, he practically rolled his eyes. Complete idiot, he sighed at himself. He could have walked away from the gig easily, but things had been quiet after everything in New York and he needed something fresh. Naturally he’d say yes to this when Sam mentioned the job to him. 

Once he found your apartment he slowly trudged through the hall, his mind all but made up about you already. You were going to be nothing more than a spoiled little brat. He looked at the golden number above your door and sighed heavily before knocking loudly. 

For a few moments, nothing but silence met his ears before he finally heard what he was sure was annoyed grumbling inside accompanied by soft footsteps. The door was whipped open and Bucky came face to face with you. 

Your brows knitted together as you studied him before crossing your arms over your chest, “can I help you?”

“James Barnes,” his name practically came out as a sigh. You raised your eyebrows at him but remained silent.

“And?” you asked as you moved to close the door, “I’m in the middle of my fifth zoom meeting of the day and annoyed and hungry. Thanks for wasting my time. Have a fantastic day.”

Before you could slam the door in his face, Bucky stuck his foot in the doorway and prevented you from closing it. A huff escaped your lips as you glared at him through the crack, “your father sent me. I’m supposed to look after you.”

“Ahh yes,” you rolled your eyes and frowned, “the baby-sitter my father hired. I told him and his assistant that I don’t want - or need - anything to watch me. I’m fine. So if you don’t mind you can leave. I’m busy and don’t have time to deal with you.”

“You don’t pay me sweetheart,” he scoffed lightly as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. You wanted a challenge? He’d give you one, “and as long as that’s the case, I stay.”

“I’ll double whatever he paid you.”

“Oh honey, I doubt you could ever afford that.”

“What can I do to get you to leave?”

“Nothing.”

“It really doesn’t seem like you want to be here either so why don’t we both do ourselves a favor and cut the shit?”

“Not until your father tells me it’s okay to leave,” he smirked, “I don’t take orders from little girls, sweetheart. Nor do you pay my bills.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a bitch,” your mouth opened into a little pout as you attempted to shut the door on his foot, “you can shut the door, it won’t hurt me. I’ll just tear it down if I have to.”

“Are you serious?!”

“Want to find out?” he asked as you threw your head back and sighed at the ceiling. Yes and no. You wanted to push his buttons and see how far you could press. But you also didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Instead you slowly, ever so reluctantly opened the door, refusing to move but motioning for him to come in. He practically sauntered in with a victorious little smirk on his lips, “good girl.”

You were to let him have it when he turned around to face you and finally got the chance to study him. And your jaw almost hit the floor. Fuck. 

He was handsome - dark hair and the bluest eyes you’d ever seen with a five o’clock shadow. He was dressed in very well fitting jeans, along with a henley and leather jacket. So casual but he managed to make it look so good. For a moment you thought he looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place. Maybe you’d seen him around somewhere. 

Well, this presented a whole new predicament. This would have been so much easier if he hadn’t been one of the most gorgeous men you’d laid eyes on.

“Like what you see?” 

“I’m not into old men,” you cocked your head to the side and watched him with a smirk. Bucky almost tripped up and let an emotion slip but instead he remained pointedly neutral as he looked you up and down. 

It would have been easier to dislike and hate you entirely if you weren’t so damn cute. You were dressed in a comfy, oversized sweater and joggers and big fuzzy socks - casual and cute but effortlessly so. It was a challenge not to stare. 

“Whatever you say,” he held up his hands in mock defeat as you became momentarily placated, “what’s the plan for today?”

“I have a job and things to do,” you huffed as you pushed past him, “so just do something or whatever and stay out of my way. If you insist on being here.”

“I do.”

“This is going to be fucking hell, isn’t it?”

“It can be whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart!”

“Sure thing, doll.”

"I hate you already.”

“The feelings’ mutual, honey.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hating Bucky was a full time job. Bucky having to chaperone you through all of your shenanigans was a full time job. Both of you were incredibly stubborn and damn near made the job impossible. 

You'd be lying if it said he wasn't attractive and that you hadn't thought about him. Especially late at night. Alone in bed. But you'd rather die than admit that to him. 

Bucky had a feeling he'd break you down eventually; not that he expected anything to come of it. He enjoyed flirting with you and watching you get frazzled and nervous. But you weren't his type. Nuh uh - Bucky Barnes wasn't into pretty little spoiled brats. Even if they weren't attractive and smart and genuinely kind underneath it all. 

That wasn't part of the job. Which was why he never let it go past anything that could be deemed as flirtatious.

Just as he vowed to break you down and just admit you liked him, you might have had a little goal of your own…

"Come on," Bucky sighed as he paced around your living room, waiting for you to come out of the bedroom so you could pizza and watch movies. It had become somewhat of a Friday night tradition, reluctantly so. It was hard to get out and have a lot of fun when you had a silent, intimidating brooding man following you around, "how long does it take to change?"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you opened your bedroom door and stepped out, slipping on your heels, "I'm ready."

Bucky's eyes widened as he looked you over. You were wearing a little black dress and fuck me heels along with ruby red lips and a full face of makeup. He fought back a little growl as you smirked at him, "what the fuck are you wearing?"

"Its called a dress, genius."

"To get pizza so we can come back and watch movies?"

"That's not the plan," you straightened up and walked past him, grabbing your purse and jacket.

"You said-"

"I lied," you stated the obvious, "I'm going out to finally have some fun. Without you."

"I'm coming with you," he crossed his arms over his broad chest as you tried not to stare, "that's the job, sweetheart."

"And I'd like to actually have fun and get laid," you threw your hands up, "its hard to do that with you breathing down my neck constantly! If you insist, can you at least like stay ten feet away. Give me a fucking break."

His breath had hitched in his throat as soon as he heard the words get laid and he worked to keep it together. He sighed as he forced himself not to imagine you underneath, naked and begging for more. 

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly, "ten feet only."

"Thank fuck."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One drink had turned into two which easily turned into three and after that you’d both lost count. Bucky had been sitting at the bar, a singular, but arbitrary drink in his hand as he watched you get progressively looser as the evening wore on. His steely gaze almost never left yours as he watched you chat up people around you. You were naturally extroverted, and definitely a flirt - but then again maybe that was the alcohol - and it wore Bucky out trying to keep an eye on you. He wasn’t terribly concerned about what was going on, but still, he was a man that took his job seriously.

It wasn’t until he decided that it was fine to let you out of his sight for a few moments only to turn back and found you missing. A growl bubbled up in his throat as he scanned the tightly packed pace and found you in the middle of the dance floor. You were pressed against a man that had been eyeing you up since you’d gotten there, mouths smashed together as you kissed him like your life depended on it. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and his hands were on your ass the entire time.  

As soon as you ground up against him, something in Bucky snapped. He threw back the rest of his drink and quickly made his way over to you. The people in his path parted like the seas when they noticed the predatory expression in his eyes. Before you could even realize what had happened, you felt a hand tightly squeeze your shoulder. A gasp left your lips as Bucky pulled you away from your newfound friend.

“What the fuck!” you glared at him as the man that just had his hands all over you grew visibly nervous. Bucky grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close, “Bucky!”

“Keep your filthy fuckin’ hands off of her, you understand?” he growled at the man as he just nodded, “I ever see you near her again and you’re dead. You leave my girl alone.”

Bucky shoved him away and the man practically skittered across the bar and out the door without so much as a single glance back. Breathing angrily, he turned around to find you staring at him in awe, arms over your chest. You were suddenly incredibly sober, “what the hell was that? I’m not your fucking girl, Bucky.”

“We’re going home. Now,” he reached for your hand and held your wrist in a tight grip as he dragged you without another word. You wanted to argue with him and fight back, but there was something about his possessive nature that had sent a shiver down your spine and a rush of warmth to your core as you let him pull you along like a ragdoll. 

Maybe your dangerous little plan was finally going to turn into reality.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you going to finally tell me what’s going on?” you asked as you walked back into your apartment, trailing after Bucky and slamming the door shut, “you chased off my only chance of-”

Before you could say anything else, Bucky’s hands found your waist and he crashed his lips onto yours in a bruising tangle of tongue and teeth. You responded with a surprised moan as he backed you up against the wall, making sure you didn’t hit your head. 

“He’s a fuckin’ boy,” he insisted as he lightly gripped your throat, causing you to part your lips as you fought back a moan, “he wouldn’t have made you cum. Probably doesn’t even know where your pretty little clit is.”

“And you would?” you challenged, already knowing exactly where this was leading. Something in your mind told you that this was wrong and you should have stopped it, but the larger part of you really just wanted him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it for weeks and weeks now, touching yourself late at night to the thought of him. Bucky smiled at you - a dangerous, toothy, wicked thing causing you to swallow thickly, “I don’t think you could. You’re all talk, Bucky. Probably haven’t even been laid since the 40s.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want this too, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear before trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin, making it a point to mark you up. That way everyone would know you were his. He rutted his lips lightly against yours, and you could already feel how hard he was, “I see the way you look at me - I know you’ve thought about me. Probably touched that pretty pussy of yours and wished it was my cock, huh little girl?”

“Bucky,” his name was nothing more than a whimper of your lips as you tried to reach down and touch yourself. He was quick to grab your hand and pull it away. You whimpered as he just chuckled darkly. Oh, how easily he could break you down with just a few words, “please. Need you.”

“I’ll give you what you need,” he swore as he watched you with hungry eyes. He shimmied up your dress and moved to touch you. His smirk only grew when he noticed you’d forgone panties, “look at you, such a little slut. You didn’t even put on panties? You really wanted this, didn’t you? Were you just hoping I’d touch you? I bet you had this whole thing planned out - just wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you?”

You looked at him with wide doe eyes but remained silent as you tried to play coy. But he was having none of it, and grabbing your jaw, “answer me.”

“Mhmm..,just want you,” you admitted as he slowly let go before grabbing both of your wrists in his vibranium hand and pinning them above your head, “just touch me.”

And he did - slowly, he dragged his fingers through your folds, smirking at how wet you already were, “oh honey, you’re practically dripping. So wet already, and I’ve barely even touched you. Such a good little slut.”

Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of him circling your clit slowly before feeling your soaked folds and sliding a thick finger inside. A small sound of surprise reached his ears as you almost rutted into his hand and he easily slid another finger in. The stretch from his fingers was enough to spark the warmth in your belly as you bit your lip to keep from whining. 

“Look at you, such a needy little thing,” you could hear the smirk in his voice as he fucked with his fingers, “but you’re not going to cum on my fingers. I’m going to see if you taste as sweet as you look. Gonna make ruin that pussy for anyone else. You’re mine - you understand?”

“‘m yours,” you whimpered as he let go of your hands and slowly sank to his knees in front of you. His large hands, a contrast of warm and cool, splayed on your thighs before slowly traveling up to your hips and grabbing them in a bruising grasp. This man was really working to make sure he would remain all over you. He pressed a few kisses to your thighs before stopping at your mound, and you could feel his warm breath fanning across on your pussy, “please.”

“That’s right, you can be a good girl,” he didn’t even hesitate for a moment before diving in and licking a stripe up your folds, causing sparks to shoot throughout your spine. You could feel him smirking against you at the immediate effect he had as he ate you out like a man starving. 

Bucky Barnes was not a shy man when it came to eating pussy. He licked and suckled on your clit as he let two of his cool vibranium fingers slide into your pussy. He crooked them just right, effortlessly finding your g-spot as your knees threatened to buckle. No one man had ever made you feel this good before, nor so easily. 

“F-fuck,” you hissed as he pulled back and look at the blissed out expression on your face, “more please.”

“Look at you pretty little thing,” he grinned as he pressed a few wet, sloppy kisses to your mound. He pulled his fingers from you before reaching up and practically ripping your dress off. If you’d hadn’t been so close to cumming, you would have yelled at him, but in the moment you didn’t care. Especially not as his hands found your breasts and massaged them before he played with your pert nipples, causing you to arch into his touch, “not wearing a bra either. You are bad.”

“‘m so close,” you whined as he just smirked at you. Before you could say anything else he slapped your pussy, causing you to jump slightly before you keened into his touch, silently asking for more. 

“You like that, honey?” he teased as you nodded with closed eyes, your mouth forming a small o. He repeated the motion before he grabbed your ass and buried his face back into your pussy. You moaned into his touch, bucking your hips against his mouth as he made all the most sinful noises as he ate you out like his life depended it on. He worked pure magic with only his tongue and he soon had you seeing stars as your legs started to shake around him. He anchored you to him and kept you from falling down as he brought on your orgasm, “that’s it honey. You’re going to cum all over my face, going to taste all that pretty pussy has to offer.” 

“F-f-fuck,” you reached down and carded a hand through his dark hair as you held him against you, “jesus.”

“Cum for me,” he commanded and you did just as you were told, crying out his name like a prayer as you felt your release wash over you. Bucky stayed between your legs as you came all over him, cleaning up every little bit you had, not stopping until you were begging him to stop from the over stimulation, “tastes like fuckin’ candy. Best pussy I ever tasted.” 

“Jesus,” your chest was heaving as he kissed his way up your body. He stopped at your lips and offered you a victorious little smirk, “you’re an asshole but at least you know how to eat pussy.”

He grabbed your chin in his hand and forced you to look at him, “you’re mine - this pussy is mine and no one else’s, you understand, little brat?”

“Ruin me then,” you raised your eyebrows before you kissed him again, trying to beat him at his own little game. But it was no use - he was easily more dominant and held control over you, “make me yours.”

“Turn around,” he growled as he flipped you in his arms and pressed you against the wall. You moaned as his hands mapped out every curve of your body before you felt the sharp sting of his hand on your ass. Just to spur him on a little more, you bounced your ass and he slapped you a few more times before massaging your skin to soothe the pain, “you like it when it hurts. God, you’re perfect. My little slut.”

“Please fuck me. Need you so bad,” you practically whined but quickly grinned when you heard him undo his belt and pants before he pulled his cock out.  He groaned in your ear as you heard him stroke himself a few times.

“‘m so fucking hard, baby,” he ran the tip of his cock through your folds and you could already feel how big he was, “got me leakin’ already. Thought about you and that smart little mouth so many times. Always cum so hard when I think about you. Can’t wait to see how good this pussy feels squeezing my cock. You’re going to take all of me, little thing.”

He coated his length with your arousal - you were already so wet again - before slapping his cock against your ass. You tried to reach around so you could touch him but he slapped your hand out of the way. 

“Put your cock in me,” you practically begged and before you could say anything else, he plunged into you, causing you to practically scream in surprise. He didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed inside of you, feeling like he was practically splitting you apart. The burn quickly faded away as you moaned and clenched your walls around him, “fuck, you’re so big.”

“Did you expect anything else, pretty baby?” he whispered in your ear before grabbing your hips again. He slowly pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back into you with no warning. You clawed at the wall as he set a brutal pace, slamming his hips into yours over and over again, letting you have almost no room to breath. The only sounds that left your lips were small whimpers and mewls he fucked you to an inch of your life. 

You felt the coolness of the vibranium snake around your body before he found your clit. You let him press you against the wall as he pounded into you, and you quickly left your second orgasm start to bubble up in your tummy. 

“Taking my cock so well,” he praised as he slowly played with your clit. He was not shy about being loud and moaning, all while murmuring filthy praise into your ear, “so tight - so perfect. This pussy was made for me.”

“More,” you begged in between breaths, “harder, please.”

“You want it harder, pretty baby? You’re not gonna be walkin’ after this,” he smirked before he picked the pace and fucked you even harder than before, which you hadn’t even thought possible, “good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Mhmm,” you agreed with a wistful smile, a fucked out expression on your face as you felt his cock twitch inside of you as your walls started to clench around him, “please, please, please.”

“Gonna fill you up,” he said through gritted teeth as he slowed his thrusts, making them slower and deeper than before, “gonna make sure you know who you belong to.”

It was a few more thrusts before you came again, crying out as the pleasure rippled through your body. Bucky came quickly after, grunting as he came inside of you, filling you up with hot ropes of his cum. He fucked you through it all, not stopping until you were feeling boneless and he had filled you with every last drop. 

He easily caught you just as you were about to collapse in his arms and pulled you against his chest as he pressed a few kisses to your shoulder. You reached behind you and carded a hand through his arm, scratched at his scalp as he continued to kiss your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you said as you tried to catch your breath, “that was incredible.”

“I told you I’d ruin every other man for you,” he slowly pulled out and turned you around so you were facing him. You put a hand under your chin and turned your face up to his, “you’re mine.”

“I’m your girl,” it was like music to his ears as you reached between your thighs and swiped his cum mixed with your arousal up and sucked it clean off your finger, “my pussy is yours and your cock is mine.”

“Good girl, “ he praised with a wicked smile, “now get on your knees and put that pretty mouth to use.”

“Yes sir.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[river-bottom-nightmare]

tim's not nervous, not exactly. nervous would be reaching out with shaking fingers to rewind the taped news footage, to make sure his eyelids hadn't grown glass shards, to make sure he wasn't looking into a mirror where his two greatest heroes were one. nervous would be picking at the skin of his nails, standing with trembling feet in front of ariana as he attempted to figure out how to tell her he'd gone and fallen in love with his other best friend, the one he trusted with his life along with his heart. nervous would be letting the red hood treat the wound on his neck in dirty back alley, ever-aware of the pain rained down upon him the last time those scarred hands were this close to his neck.

nervous was not fighting back to back with someone he was only just now realizing he trusted, enough to bare his defenses to. nervous was not feeling the confirmation of all the feelings shooting through his body that he'd always ignored, only to be given a name at last. nervous was not leaning into an arm thrown across his back, cheeks flushed for reasons tim couldn't begin to imagine, the word date deciding to burrow into his brain deeper than the universe itself. so no, he's not nervous.

but with the warm daylight taking all the worst parts of red robin and turning them into something soft and blossoming, bernard's house looked normal the porch railing was well maintained and the unfogged glass stretched across a door that tim had rarely hesitated to throw wide open in the past. tim still had a sluggishly bleeding wound on his calf, and the last time he saw bernard before their dinner, their date, bernard had loomed over him.

tim rang the doorbell and bernard opened the door and all of a sudden, tim realized he was looking down at the other boy, that those stupid sunglasses he'd wanted to yank off blonde locks every damn day for some godforsaken reason were nowhere to be seen, that his own shoulders filled out a shirt that used to be dick's but bernard was drowning in his hoodie. he almost turned around and left right then and there.

he couldn't muster up the courage to talk to steph unless the learned comfort of a domino was resting on his face and he only wandered aimlessly around the city or flopped on the edge of his bed when he wasn't thrumming with the adrenaline of another fight and swinging his fists like it was life or death, mind or madness. so who the hell gave him the idea to look bernard in the eye and tell him that tim drake wanted to date him? tim drake could barely keep a hold on robin.

except, listening to bernard's stammering and watching a grin that threatened to reach over to tim and swallow him whole, he remembered it hadn't always been like that. tim drake had always been as important as robin, if not more. tim's not sure when they fractured apart so far, he wasn't sure he could piece them back together.

stepping forward to see bernard offer him that same sly grin, tim decided it might have been when he stopped talking to this,,,,,,,,,this boy, this friend, this part of him that he'd failed to nurture. it might have been when bernard falteringly messaged him, texts getting shorter and shorter every time until they petered off completely, while tim put his phone on silent and ignored a part of him screaming at his own stupidity, his own self-destructiveness, throwing himself into his grief instead. it might have been when he stopped getting ice cream with cass after patrol, when he realized he was calling kon "superboy" in his head, when he learned to live with half of himself wasting away.

bernard had always been particularly good at dragging tim drake out hiding, though, and no one in the world could convince tim that the warm streaks of lightning electrifying him from the inside out when bernard asked him on a date was anything other than swell of an orchestra's climax, than the realization of oh.

i want that, tim said, and he didn't know when he'd let himself want things again, but he'd stay this way forever if it meant hearing bernard's breathless little laugh and seeing the hop in his step as he tugged tim into a hug more familiar than the weight of his bo staff in his hands.

~~~

this is me, desperately trying to forget what happened in ff life story because dc's giving me everything i want while marvel decided to shove their greedy little hand into my chest and rearrange my ribs till they reached my heart and just squeeze it until i'm crying. so i'm distracting myself with canon bi tim but this just turned out angsty instead. fml

currently trying to make sense of the kinda fuckin weird characterization dc's been giving tim as of late. he's probably completely in character but just doesn't line up with the version of tim i have in my head, but whatever, take some introspection. i'll write fluff and funny dialogue later.

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[sukumen]

Super duper happy that twin!sukuna has its own tag now!! No thought head empty, only enemy to hatefucks (read lovers) yuji's best friend!mc with twin!sukuna

warnings: nsfw/18+, hatefucking, rough sex (biting, v little prep, fingers in mouth), public-ish sex, 

listen i could talk about twin!sukuna all day, but this concept in particular is so important to me. i know i touched on it before with some drabbles (one and two) about the first time, but let’s talk a little bit about the times after.

about how you scramble away from him as soon as you’re clearheaded enough to realize what you’ve done. you tell him in no uncertain terms that he is never going to touch you again, let alone get inside you. he snorts like he doesn’t believe you and when your knees knock as you dip for your panties, you have a hard time believing yourself. but, you’re confident that this, like most things, is just a matter of will and self-control ----  two things you have in heaps.

but, the funny thing about hating someone is that it’s by no means less passionate than love. in fact, it can far surpass it --- any other emotion too, for that matter --- gnawing and picking until you’re consumed.

it had always been like that with sukuna, but having sex kicked it into hyperdrive. you can’t even hear his name without feeling it: this surge of disdain and lust. it haunts you most in midnight hours, when your fingers slip into your cunt to search out some sort of relief. but, no matter what you do or where you touch, it’s never enough --- as if the stretch of his cock has ruined you even for yourself --- and your lust slowly turns to yearning, leaving you with a sexual frustration that sours more by the day.

not even that is enough to break you, though --- you’re too proud for it. the thought of giving in to him again gives you such displeasure, you go so far as to avoid yuuji and keep your time together limited to facetime, just to ensure distance from his brother.

in the end, it turns out your will is only as good as he lets it be. 

you worry so much about getting close to him that you forget that it’s entirely possible that he’ll come close to you. he finds you mid-paper, head buried in a spread of dog-eared textbooks and carefully organized notes. you don’t notice him until the table shifts and a rumbling “long time no see, princess,” greets you from the other side, and by then, it’s entirely too late. 

you give him your best snarled insult in return (some quip about how shocked you are to see him in a library), but he sees right through it; laughs even at your attempt to pretend you aren’t fucking soaked just having him this close. 

he still lets you have it though. lets you maintain that practiced disinterest as you pack your things as quick as you can manage. he even lets you storm away from him, a few good steps so he can enjoy the view. but, sukuna’s feeling every complicated and twisted thing you are -- hates it just as much, too -- and you only make it so far before his resolve breaks and he hauls you back and into the first bathroom that he can find. 

it’s a frenzy after that; hands fumbling, teeth knocking, you can’t move fast enough to get everything you want from him. he senses that desperation and returns it tenfold, kissing you until your vision starts to go at the corners; then, when you pull away desperate for air, occupying himself with your throat instead. 

the first bite is sharp --- enough that it actually hurts --- and you whimper out pathetically from the sting. sukuna basks in it, sinking his teeth in a second time, though he’s conscious enough to soothe the bite some with his tongue. he’d been thinking about this since the last time he had you - feeling you, marking you. but, you’d done a damn good job running away from him, so having you so close now makes him lust drunk.

like the first time at the party, he doesn’t take his time, and you don’t ask him to. this isn’t a lovers’ rendezvous --- it’s fucking, pure and simple, with no need for tender, for soft, for careful. sukuna is certainly none of those things when he turns you until you’re braced against the sink, looking into the mirror, and with one deft push of his hips, fills you whole. the stretch is as delicious as you remember, pussy throbbing around him from the fit, and there’s no time to adjust before he’s setting a brutal pace. 

he fucks you like he wants it to hurt and you rock your hips to meet him like you want to take it. the slam of his hips pin you to the sink and you slip fast into the delirium of it all; mouth parted and head tipped as you surrender to how badly you’ve wanted this.

that expression -- and the bite on your exposed neck -- catches his eye in the mirror and he groans against the back of your shoulder, nipping the sensitive skin before he reaches for your face to keep you arched. his fingers squeeze at first, pressing into the fat of your cheeks until they meet bone. then, on a whim, he lets two press into your open mouth, a gesture you welcome with your tongue slipping over them. 

“fuckin’ look at you,” he grunts, eyes dark as they trace you, “look how good you get when you’re done being a goddamn brat.” the fingers in your mouth twist while his free hand pushes between you and wet porcelain for your clit. he pinches the nub sharply, and you choke out a cry around his fingers; a sound that makes him purr.

“let’s see how else we can get you to behave.”

[kirishimas-manly-eyeliner]

pairing: toxic!bakugo x gn!reader

format: headcanon to fic

word count: 1.7k words

warnings: toxic bakugo, mentions of abuse, swearing, cheating, and a whole lotta angst and screaming and heartbreak </3

a/n: ay!! in no way shape or form do i think bakugou would actually be toxic. i love bakugou sm, i just wrote this for the sake of writing. || HAVE FUN BUCKLE UP KIDS, and if you enjoyed, please reblog to support <3

“I HATE YOU, KATSUKI BAKUGO.” 

“But you couldn’t help but feel selfish at the thought that... while he was going off saving everyone else, you were the one who needed saving.”

fights with bakugo weren’t uncommon, but when you snapped back that was when things got rough

it began when he was getting ready to train like he always did-- waking up early in the morning and not coming back until dinner time

you knew that his hero work was pretty draining most of the time, so you let it slide. being a pro-hero was no easy feat, so you understood where he was coming from if he ever snapped 

but on the days where he was free, all you wanted was a little extra time with him.

“hey ‘suki,” you said quietly as you ruffled his hair. “how was your day, love?”

but today hadn’t been a good day for him, and he just wanted to be left alone

he was slumping on the couch, watching tv as he simply nodded in reply

“good.”

you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment with his apathetic reply. was he serious? all you wanted was to spend some quality time with him, and that was the best he could do?

“hey, uh, it’s break! how about we go outside, hmm? there was this really good takoyaki place-”

“god, do you ever shut up?” he said, his head whipping around as he got up to face you eye-to-eye

“oh,” you muttered quietly. “uh... sorry.”

you were never really one to snap-- especially since you knew if you got frustrated back, it would just cause more trouble. instead, you sighed and walked away

“but... would it be okay? maybe next time?”

“yeah, whatever.” bakugo snapped.

[ FIC BELOW THE CUT ]

A “next time” never came. Not even for a single second. He was always busy, or always tired, but no matter what, he always responded with “not in the mood,” or something along the lines of that.

But this week in particular? It wasn’t going well for you.

While he worked hard in hero training, you constantly pushed through every single day with assignment upon assignment, memorizing formulas and trying to figure out equations. You worked diligently at home throughout the day, only to see in big, red blocks, “LATE” once more. 

You looked at yourself, disappointed. There was constant brainfog going around in your head, nothing was clear anymore, and all you wanted was to go nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

Why couldn’t you get any of this right? What was wrong with you?

Doing what once Bakugo promised you to do, you pulled out your phone and texted him, remembering his words when you two first got together:

“I’ll always be here for you.”

You: Bby, what time are you coming home today? I miss you 🥺

You waited a few minutes. You knew that he was probably on another chase, running and saving the day once more. 

But you couldn’t help but feel selfish at the thought that... while he was going off saving everyone else, you were the one who needed saving. You felt selfish and clingy for missing the days when things were easier in highschool-- TV-dinner dates, walks around the park, snuggling late into the night. Sure, you knew his job was important. He was going around rescuing hundreds of people every day, constantly working and running-- so why was it so hard for you to understand?

What’s wrong with me? 

“Unless...” you muttered to yourself. “Is it normal? Is a relationship like this normal? It is, right? I still get to see him, so that’s a plus. Well, sometimes. Kind of. I get to see him on weekends if he isn’t planning on living on the couch all day. But that’s normal, right? I think? I don’t think he’d... would he?”

💥 Boom Baby <3 💥: I’ll be home in 10. See you.

Your eyes lit up with excitement, the storm in your head finally calming. It was going to be okay. It was going to be okay. 

- - -

It was not okay. Things weren’t okay.

As soon as Bakugo came home, he slammed the door and began rambling about his day again. You listened.

He talked.

You listened.

You listened to him drone on about his day.

And not once,

not once did he ask about yours.

“And I can’t believe it!” he growled as he tossed his jacket into the closet. “That damn idiot doesn’t even know what a villain is, from what I’m guessing,”

Your blood boiled as he continued to talk, not once looking you directly in the eyes.

“...and he’s probably going off and crying again. And that stupid villain wasn’t even trying! It’s as if he was just trying to cause trouble for me, and I think that’s fuckin’ ridiculous.”

Bakugo took his shoes off, throwing them onto the rug as he opened the door into the living room while talking. He didn’t even... he didn’t even glance at you.

“And me? Ha! I was forced to go on patrol,”

Me. He’s was always saying, me, me, me, by myself, alone.

Your jaw clenched as you heard him drone on.

“And they know I hate patrol, those damn... whatever. But again. And the thing is? No one ever listened to me! I didn’t even-”

“No one ever listened to me”

Was he kidding?

That was the last straw.

Bakugo continued. “Heck, I didn’t even get to start on anything! They just made me-”

“I hate you.” 

“...What?” he said, eyes narrowing as he stopped.

He looked you in the eye this time.

“I said, I hate you, Bakugo Katsuki.” you hissed. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you? Every day? For you to actually come home? Do you have any clue how lonely it’s been? Did you even know that I got accepted into the school I applied to, because I did-”

“Oh, you want to talk working hard?” Bakugo raged, suddenly towering over you. “You want to go there? Because I certainly don’t fuckin’ mind! Do you have any idea how clingy you are? Because unlike you, I don’t have an unlimited battery of energy. I’m tired all day, and I just want to go to sleep. So do whatever you need! Wash the dishes! Clean the house! I don’t give a damn, because guess what? I don’t care!”

Bakugo’s throat hitched when he realized was he’d said. 

“Really?” You laughed in disbelief. “Really, so all of a sudden, you’re treating me like I’m some sort of object! Like I’m something you can play with? I just wanted to spend time with you, Bakugo!”

....But he hadn’t expected for you to fight back. You had never fought back. 

“If you wanted to spend time with me, you would have been smart enough to know that I don’t give a damn anymore. Get lost for all I care. Deal with it yourself, you got that?”

When was the last time I’ve seen y/n fight for theirself?

“Ha! And you think I already haven’t felt that way?” You spat bitterly. You could feel the tension rising in the room, and it was just a constant back-and-forth between you two. “Because I have! I’ve stayed up all night, worried, crying, because you wouldn’t take the time out of your day to spend time with me. I understand your hero work! I get it, I do! But something as small as a genuine how are you? could have made my day, but did you give it?”

“At least you’re not the one who’s running their ass off just to get some money to live-”

“So you think you’re helping me now?”

Bakugo went up to your face before holding you by the collar and shoving you against the wall, tiny sparks beginning to form at his hands. “No! Why would I help you? You don’t even do anything, just get out of my face! Get out of my life, because I don’t ever want to see you or your stupid face ever again, go find someone else to take care of you!”

Bakugo’s throat hitched again at the sudden slip of words.

An immense wave of silence washed over.

Silence became deafening.

Who...

Who was he?

Who was this person?

Who was this... stranger? Monster? 

Did you even know him?

Why was he...

Who was this?

Whatever happened to “I’ll always be here for you?”

Your hands shook against your chest, eyes filling with tears as your heart hammered against your chest. 

“Fine.” You managed to say. If you were leaving, you were leaving firmly without a single trace of regret. “Fine then. See how it is without me, your so-called maid at home, isn’t that right?”

You could practically see the utter panic in his eyes.

“Right, Katsuki?”

For the first time in your life, you saw a shadow of vulnerability in his frame. His hands were shaking, eyes suddenly bloodshot and his breathing pattern increasing with speed.

“Answer me.”

Bakugo began shaking his head vigorously as he tried to reach out for your hand, but you pushed him away. “N-no, y/n, I didn’t mean-” he began.

You cut him off.

“No, no, you-- you did. You did. I know you meant every last word, and I mean the one I’m saying now.”

Even though your voice shook, you still chose to speak.

“I’m breaking up with you. We’re done.”

His eyes seemed frantic. “Baby, give me another chance, I swear I’ll make it right, I can,” Bakugo trembled. He stared at you in the eyes before trying to grab your hand again as if you were dying in front of him and had the audacity to say, “That’s what I always said, right? That I promised I’d always be here for you-”

“What’s done is done.” You said, before even giving him a chance to keep speaking. Was he insane? “You hurt me.”

“And I sure hope to God that you won’t ever hurt anyone else ever again. Because the thing is?” You stood up in front of him, watching his frame quake and his eyes widen. “You’re always going to be this toxic.”

“I wish I could say I was sorry.”

And you slammed the door for the last time. 

[novelconcepts]

I love your filling in of the moonflower scene. Just the tenderness of it all 🥺

Do you think you might write a short piece about Dani finding the first grey in Jamie‘s hair in the future? Every time I see the gifsets of Jamie‘s (very sexy) grey strands I have to think about Dani‘s possible reaction

Jamie doesn’t tend to notice these things--little changes in her own appearance, little alterations made by the simple passage of time. Her attention, she scoffs when Dani laughs over her failing to pick up on a burr caught in her hair after a trip to the park, is better suited to other things. “World’s big,” she says, tilting her head to allow Dani to comb the remnants of whatever tree she’d walked beneath from her curls. “Why should I go wasting time starin’ at my own damn face?”

“Because it’s a good face,” Dani tells her. She doesn’t add that Jamie’s face, like everything about her, makes more sense than the rest of the world. That nothing about Jamie seems to come out of nowhere--every scrape and scar is accounted for with a story, every wrinkle turned out from the edge of her lips or around her eyes sparked by the familiarity of her frown, the inevitability of her smile. Everything about Jamie can be traced back to the honesty of time spent in the sun, or injuries incurred at work, or letting another year stroke its fingers across her skin. 

She notices the first gray hair maybe five years in. They’re on a camping trip, small tent pitched just upshore of a gently lapping brook; Jamie, crouched beside the water to inspect a turtle, looks up with a grin, and Dani notes a flash of silver at the crown of her head.

She doesn’t point it out. It’s too easy to anticipate Jamie’s amused drawl: “Got a gorgeous beast right here, and you’re worried about my hair?” She tucks the knowledge safely away, entertained by the idea that Jamie is carrying a secret upon her own head and has no idea.

She says nothing, but her fingers seek out the unexpected silver the next time Jamie comes close enough. She trails her hand through rumpled hair, watching the familiar warmth of brown cascade across her skin, pleased to find several more bursts of light wound in among the dark.

“What?” Jamie asks, smile crooking the way it always does when she senses Dani is about to poke fun. “Bein’ a weirdo again.”

“Am not,” Dani replies, and kisses her. 

It becomes a bit of a private game, an amusing turn of events: Jamie, the most naturally-observant human being in the world, has absolutely no idea she’s shot through with unexpected arcs of silver. No idea at all. At first, Dani thinks she’s intentionally ignoring the color leaching out of her hair; a flash of memory spirals back, Judy plucking what she called my little secret out by the strand and holding a finger to her lips as she reached for a box of red dye. Heavy maintenance is very much not Jamie’s speed, but maybe turning her cheek and feigning ignorance achieves the same goal.

A month goes by. A year. They’re turning up on their own time, these pops of colorless strands standing stark against dark waves, and Dani takes it upon herself to brush her fingers across each one she finds. She likes very much the depth they bring to Jamie’s hair, the way the sun catches a little differently when she turns her head. Likes the knowledge that each strand is a stamp of memory--proof of time spent. 

Likes, most of all, that Jamie legitimately seems to have no idea. Jamie, who tugs a black elastic band off her wrist with her teeth, raking the messy tumble out of her eyes, perpetually annoyed with the curls that always seem to evade her hands. Jamie, who spends hours with a book in one hand and Dani’s hair sifting through her fingers, and still has absolutely no clue what’s happening on her own head.

“You’ve never cared, have you?” Dani asks one afternoon, watching Jamie sort through their spectacular collection of cassette tapes, little plastic cases clicking comfortably to break up the quiet. Jamie, cross-legged on the living room rug with Survivor’s Vital Signs in one hand and REO Speedwagon’s Hi Infidelity in the other, raises her eyebrows.

“Seemed silly to go alphabetical while they were multiplying like fuckin’ bunnies, but now we’ve slowed down a little--”

“About looks,” Dani corrects. She’s hanging half off the couch, the tips of her fingers brushing Jamie’s knee. Life has been getting less predictable lately, messier around the edges; she looks into mirrors with breath held tight in her lungs, uncertain of what will look back. Touching Jamie has become less about habit and more a matter of lifeline. “You’ve never cared about how you look. Maybe the only woman I’ve ever known to say that.”

“I care,” Jamie says, with very little defensiveness. It is astonishing sometimes, looking back at the woman she’d met in that manor kitchen, how little defense Jamie seems to have for her these days. Questions are met in good faith, answered in kind, like Jamie knows there’s nothing Dani could ask that would intentionally bear teeth. “Care when I need to.”

“Like when?”

“At the shop,” Jamie says, tossing aside a Paul Simon cassette with a wrinkle of her nose. She finds Pat Benatar instead, sets it in the pile between The Beatles and Blondie. “Always look professional, don’t I?”

“But you don’t like--think about it? What you’ll look like in twenty years? Or fifty?”

“Fifty, Christ.” Jamie rolls back her head, grinning. “Be a hell of a thing, stacking fifty more years on. What d’you think you’ll look like in fifty years, mm?”

Dani doesn’t answer. It’s too early to tell what the smudged face in the mirror might mean--too early to panic--but the idea of fifty years more with Jamie seems terrifyingly unlikely. 

“Anyway.” Seeming to sense her unease, Jamie rocks up onto her knees, awkwardly shifting across the rug to lean against the couch. She braces a hand behind Dani’s head, her eyebrow arched. “You tryin’ to say I don’t pay enough attention to my looks? I don’t scrub up enough for you, is that it?”

Her fingers brush Dani’s ribs, digging in just hard enough to tickle. Dani squirms, laughter burbling out against Jamie’s neck. 

She doesn’t bring it up again, preferring the secret of Jamie’s slowly graying hair held within her own heart. The threads are becoming more insistent as the years drift by, joining tiny lines etched into Jamie’s skin. Her hands, put through so much work, are comfortably worn at knuckle and fingertip. Her smile pulls the skin around her eyes a little tighter as they celebrate eight years--nine--ten. 

She looks good with the extra age, Dani thinks. She wears it all so well, without pausing to prod at herself in the bathroom mirror; if she’s the least bit unnerved by the passage of time, she never lets it show. If Dani didn’t know better, she’d think Jamie never really looks at herself in the mirror at all. 

Too busy looking at me, she thinks, and tries not to ache at the idea that Jamie has forgotten herself beneath the need to keep her attention on what she considers more important things. Like watching for one of Dani’s moods to spike up in public. Like waiting for Dani’s shoulders to hunch against ghosts only she can see. 

Dani doesn’t look into mirrors herself much these days, either--though, every once in a while, a glimpse will sneak up. Just the barest flash of her own face in the passenger mirror of the car, or the idling bathwater. Sometimes--less and less often--the face waiting is even her own. 

It is so her own, those days, that Dani finds herself embracing a new concern. Something odd, something she’s only started to really see in recent memory. 

Jamie is starting to show her age, little by little. Not all at once, not in any way that is strange for a woman creeping into her forties--but the years are there, certainly, stamped gently into her skin. The years are threaded through her hair, these silver pops around which Dani’s hands seem to take on a mind of their own. There’s something wonderful, lively, even sexy about the way time is impacting Jamie--grounding her a little more every year, the natural wearing of all those hours hung like medals around her shoulders. 

Dani, catching sight of herself in the bathtub, can’t help but notice: no one could say the same for her. Not that time is beating away at her, not that time is turning her to stone before she’s ready--but that time appears to be doing nothing at all. Her eyes bear no extra marks, though she has spent just as much time as Jamie laughing, frowning, holding her breath as the world spins beneath her. Her hands look just the same as they had in 1987. 

Her hair is still stubbornly gold.

“Do you think it’s strange?” she whispers one night--not entirely sure if Jamie is even awake, not sure she can even bear the answer Jamie might give. 

“What is?”

She swallows hard, fingers carding gently through Jamie’s hair. The gray seems to gleam in the glow of the streetlamp through their window. 

“That I’m not...that I don’t look...”

Jamie pushes onto one elbow, peering at her in the dark. “You look like you,” she says, when Dani is unable to press on. “You look like Dani.”

She’s trying to answer the other question, Dani understands, the one being asked with greater frequency: am I here? am I me? what if I’m her, deep down, and have been all along? She shakes her head. 

“That’s not...I’m not...”

Jamie waits, brow knit the way it always has when she’s listening. Even when her expression smooths out into sleep, that small divot will remain, etched into her skin like a tattoo memorializing all these late-night conversations. Dani reaches up, presses her thumb gently to it now, her breath hitching when Jamie turns to kiss her palm. 

“It’s nothing,” she says. There’s no way to explain it without making Jamie worry more, worry again, lose yet more sleep watching for signs Dani is slipping away.

Jamie nods slowly, not quite believing, not quite daring to call out the lie. “All right,” she says, and the silver in her hair seems to burn, and Dani loves her enough to close her eyes and pretend everything is okay.

When morning comes, she wards off the thoughts. It’s easier, in daylight. Easier to turn her head, fix her eyes on Jamie, allow the familiarity of Jamie’s hands, smile, kiss sweep the fear back under the bed. The nights are long, the dark heavier than it has any right to be, but in sunlight, Jamie shines. The chain around her neck--the colors in her eyes--the silver shot through her hair. In sunshine, Jamie is the most alive any person can be.

And if she is, so must Dani be--because there is so much love in the way Jamie tips into her arms, so much affection in the sweep of her kiss, in the way she leads them around the kitchen in an impromptu waltz. Jamie, as always, burning away the shadows. 

Jamie, who dips her backward, drinking in her laughter with the biggest grin in the world. Who cuts her eyes to the right. Who tightens her mouth in surprise.

“Hang on,” she says, her hands still braced at Dani’s back and hip. “What the fuck is this?”

Dani’s heart gives a giant leap, her hands clutching at Jamie’s shirt for balance. This is it, she thinks. She can see her now. She can see her, not me, and it’s over, it’s all over, it’s--

“Dani.” Jamie is frowning, easing her back to her feet. She crouches down, gazing into the window of the oven. One hand rises to her head, her brow furrowed.

She sees her, Dani thinks, backing toward the sink. She sees her, and--

“Jesus, how long has my hair looked like that?” 

She blinks, shaking the panic away. “What?”

Jamie is looking at her, almost awestruck, her face clean and younger than usual with the last vestiges of sleep clinging to her eyes. “All that gray. Knew there were one or two, but--”

Dani is laughing. Leaning back against the counter, the mirth spilling out of her, she laughs. Jamie, straightening up with a low groan--her knees pop audibly, her head shaking--looks bewildered.

“Suppose you thought you’d just wait,” she says dryly, “and see if I ever noticed?”

Dani nods, cackling too hard to answer. It’s become so normal, counting the bright bursts amid Jaime’s natural hair color; she’s honestly forgotten Jamie ever didn’t have these silver sparks. Every inch of her, from the crow’s feet etched near her eyes to the tiny scars on her hands, is quite simply home. 

Jamie is plainly trying to look grumpy now, her hand tangling her hair. With Dani giggling like this, unable to catch her breath, she isn’t doing a very good job.

“Been this way a while?”

“Years,” Dani giggles. “Since I proposed. Before.”

Jamie rolls her eyes, slouching the two steps it takes to reach the counter and Dani’s shaking frame. “You,” she says in a mock-irritated tone, “are supposed to help with these things.”

“With what?” Dani brushes the hair back from her eyes. “You’re beautiful. And more than that, you’re...stately.”

“Stately,” Jamie repeats with a snort. “Haven’t heard that one. That’s a Hannah word, if ever there was one.”

They sober, just a little, the appropriate affection offered to memory. Jamie’s head bows against her own, her nose brushing Dani’s lightly. 

“I like it,” Dani says, her voice soft. “I like watching it happen. Like growing old...”

She trails off. She isn’t growing old, is the thing. Isn’t changing. Is as incontrovertible as a lake set into ancient grounds. She is not growing old at all.

Jamie’s fingers curl around her chin, tipping her head back. “Growing old together,” she says, firmly. Not denial, exactly--just certainty. Jamie, imposing her will on a world that tries so hard to have its own way with them both. 

“Growing old together,” Dani repeats, and even if it isn’t true in the strictest sense--even if it doesn’t look like it should--she knows Jamie believes it. Knows Jamie will fight tooth and nail to make the universe bend around her love. 

There are things, Jamie believes, that are natural. Organic. Exactly as they should be. There are things that can’t be changed by dreams, whims, magic spells. 

They will grow old together. That is, Jamie believes, the way the world works. The way it has always been and will always be. Jamie’s hair grows silver. Jamie’s skin etches with lines. Jamie’s hands are solid in her own, though she sometimes bends her fingers with a grimace, rubs her wrists when the weather angles toward snow. 

They will grow old together. For Jamie, there is simply no other consideration to be made.

“I like it,” Dani repeats, fingering the nearest strand of gray. “It’s distinguished.”

Jamie, shaking her head, is grinning as she leans in for a kiss.

[foulcrownkryptonite]

The Man He Loved

Erwin x Levi 

Levi disagrees with Erwin’s plan and confronts him after a meeting with the Scouts.

3.4K words

Content Warnings: swearing, bursts of anger, general meanness before the cavity inducing fluff comes into play :)

Levi sat quietly, arms crossed and eyes scanning each of the Scouts as Erwin laid out this coming mission's details. It was late and everyone was past the brink of exhaustion, but this meeting was unfortunately urgent. Eren and Historia… Those damned Internal Police lackies will stop at nothing to get their filthy hands on the two kids. And with the influence they have, their chance at success is more than possible. There was no time to waste. What they needed was a plan of action, an infallible one, at that.

“We still have many uncertainties about the titans and what the Beast titan’s plans are…” Erwin continued. “But keeping Eren and Historia safe is of the utmost priority. Humanity will fall if the Internal Police get their hands on them. In two days' time, we’ll need to devise a distraction.” Distraction? Levi swiftly side eyed Erwin as he continued his disquisition, his prominent features set in dedication. Why doesn't he tell me these things beforehand...

“Jean, you’ll pretend to be Eren and-“ Erwin was cut off by Jean’s groans.

“Huh? I look nothing like that brat. Clearly I’m far more handsome. They’ll think he suddenly became a model and Eren does not deserve that reputation.” Jean quickly retorted. Despite being crudely cut off, Erwin’s eyes remained weighted and unmoving. The stretch of silence that followed elicited an ugly snort from Conny, earning a poorly contained laugh from Sasha and a silencing glare from Mikasa. Once the punishing eyes moved to Jean, he quickly shut his trap and slunk in his chair, a curse being muttered under his breath. Are these damn brats capable of a single serious meeting? Levi scoffed to himself as Erwin resumed.

“As I was saying,” Jean somehow receded further into himself. “Armin will play Historia.”. Armin nodded, knowing there’s no saying no to the commander in this state. “I’ll lead the distraction as I’m perfectly fine with playing bait. They want me too, but that’s not important.” he went on. At this, Levi's jaw tightened. Not important?! They’ll kill you. What is he-

“Don’t worry, as this will not be for another week. The news of us hiding out won’t get to them for a short while.” Erwin concluded, standing up in his chair. Before he could finish his brief remarks, the scouts eagerly stood to attention. “Very well, that is all for tonight. Get some rest, Scouts. You’ve done good work. If there are any questions, feel free to ask. But for now, seek your sleep.” And with those words of finality, he receded back into his seat, the phantom pains in his arm ebbing and flowing as they usually did. Erwin never talked about it, but Levi could tell when it was bothering the commander. His eyebrows would furrow slightly, followed by a look of realization then poignancy. Whether he really wanted to or not, Levi always noticed these little changes in the man.

Hange let out a big yawn, waiting as everyone else quietly left the room. That is to say, everyone besides Conny, Sasha and Jean, those loud fucks. Levi instantly began mentally reciting what Erwin had previously said. Distraction my ass… Hange kicked up their feet onto the coffee table, expecting the usual post-meeting chat between the three of them. “Eyy I’m pooped, how about a-“

“Hange.” Levi said plainly.

“Eh?”

“Not today.”

“Alright… then why don’t we-“

“Not. Today.” Levi snapped, uncrossing his legs to stand. “Leave.”

Hange rolled their eyes, used to and unthreatened by Levi’s usual ire. “Whatever, I’ll just go party somewhere else then.” They stood too, walking toward the door. “You two buzzkills have a goodnight~!” They sang sweetly before sauntering out in an exaggerated confidence. Levi sighed before going to the door and locking it. Erwin just watched, unamused and unsurprised by his behavior. Levi leaned against the locked door and put his hands on his hips.

“So, a suicide mission? That’s your master plan?” he said coldly, grey eyes meeting blue in an unfriendly gaze. Erwin kept his lips sealed with silence, knowing full well the man across him had a lot more to say. “Tch, silent treatment too? Why don’t you tell me these things? Did you hit your head on the field before losing your arm?” He taunted, attempting to coax the tall man into talking.

Erwin’s eyes darkened just slightly. He really wasn’t in the mood to bicker with Levi. His plan was practically foolproof, Levi just wasn’t thinking rationally. His arm hurt and he longed for a good night's rest, not wanting to be barked at by the man standing across from him. Truthfully, he was tuning most of what he said out. Just let him ramble until he’s satisfied.

Levi stomped his boot on the door, causing it to judder in return. “You’re not even LISTENING. Oi, shit-for-brains, talk to me like a man and stop wallowing in your suicidal self pity. What the fuck are you thinking?”

Erwin took a steady breath, composing himself before finally speaking. “Is this really about the mission, Levi?” He was met with cold icy eyes set in a dead glare. This really isn’t what he wanted to do right now. “Y'know what, nevermind. I don’t wanna hear it tonight.” he dismissed.

Levi was beyond irked. “Eh- what are you even saying? Damn, that titan really did scramble your head. Do I need to spell it out for ya? Write on little cards so you can relearn your ABC’s? Eh?! You’ve gone mad. This is stupid-“

Erwin lifted his hand up to silence him. “You don’t have to agree. By all means, yell at me. But this doesn’t change my plan.” He lowered his hand and looked him in the eyes, his mind tired and begging for rest.

Levi could feel his face darkening into a prominent scowl. “I can’t fuckin’ believe this… Your self righteous fantasies of being the humble hero are clouding your judgement. Pride? Heroism? That’s just some bullshit excuse, Erwin. You aren’t expendable. Killing yourself now isn’t going to help anyone. It’s not going to fix anything.” He spat, poison dripping from each word as his gaze remained locked on target. Erwin eyed him in return, eyes growing darker with each passing second. A tense silence stretched between them.

Levi sighed before starting again.

“We need that damn head of yours if we want to have any chance of a future, so quit being a baby and let’s figure out some other plan.” He reasoned, hoping these words would make his commander understand where this bout of anger came from.

Erwin sat silent for a moment, contemplating his words and filtering them with his usual routine of rationality and logic. What was Levi’s goal here? It is putting his own life in danger, not Levi’s. Unless the issue was that fact itself...

“Levi…” He began calmly, his assuring tone of voice encouraging Levi to calm himself. “I recognize how you feel, but you must see the bigger picture. You need to understand, I am replaceable, Eren and Historia are not.“

Levi instinctively tensed again, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed, and knowing full well he wouldn’t like whatever Erwin would say next. “This mission is above me - above us. It’s our best option. We don’t have the luxury to achieve results without sacrifice, or at least without the risk thereof. I have abandoned many soldiers in the past, and to cower when that chance weighs on myself is unbecoming of a commander. I did not call a meeting tonight to discuss, but rather to inform. This is the plan, Levi. And frankly? I do not wish to speak about it further. That is all.” Erwin languidly finished, his usual punctuality succumbing to a tired dejection.

Levi realized then. He wasn’t speaking to Erwin, the man whom he trusted and dedicated his life to. Levi wasn’t speaking to the one who dragged him out of that shitty dump of a home and into the Survey Corps; He wasn’t here with the man who made badly timed jokes Levi could only roll his eyes at, nor the captain who suddenly took an interest in cleanliness upon Levi’s arrival, nor the friend who kindly lent Levi a shoulder and a warm cup of tea following his squad's extinction. This was not that man. Levi was stood in front of the Commander of the Survey Corps. An artificial hero who’d rid himself of his humanities in the name of freedom, eager to sacrifice what he must for the prosperity of the future. Erwin looked at Levi from behind that old table as if it were a wall of its own, made not for keeping titans out, but for imprisoning the man Levi knew him to be within.

A heroic façade. A selfless demeanor. That is what Erwin has chosen to be.

Bullshit. Absolute fucking BULLSHIT. There are at least a thousand ways out of this mess, why the hell is he so set on risking himself? An unbridled rage swiftly lifted Levi off the back of the door, boots stomping up towards the tired man in front of him. Levi seethed. He won't let Erwin succumb to whatever dumbass funk he seems to be in. He crossed his arms and scowled, voice biting and unsympathetic. “So that’s it then? You’re just going to give up under the ruse of heroism cause you don't feel well? Because you lost your fucking arm to some ugly ass titan?”

Erwin glare was maddening, something that would make any other soul cower in fear, yet it only fueled his own vehemence. He’s not going to let Erwin walk away from this. “Tch. And to think I’d thought so highly of you... Go on then. If this is really what you want, go and die a coward's meaningless death.” The air hung heavy as they stared each other down. Silence, tense uncomfortable silence and shit ok maybe Levi had gone a bit too fa-

BANG. His hand hit the desk hard, the sound of Erwin's arm slamming the old wood echoing harshly off the cold stone walls. He was standing now, chair forgotten and fallen behind him. The look on his face made Levi’s heart catch in his throat, a dry lump forming as Erwin's eyes bore menacingly into him. His small figure felt diminutive as Erwin’s chest heaved with ferocity, before finally cracking with pure fury. “You dare tell me what I can or cannot do with my own life? Who the fuck do you think you are? I am your superior officer before I am your friend and I will not take this shit from you!”

Levi went cold, backing once more into the door as far as he could, gripping the handle for support, or perhaps a possible escape. He’s never seen Erwin snap like this and to see this eruption in him… It petrified him. “Well, now who’s the coward?” He said maddeningly, kicking the discarded chair further into the corner which sent Levi’s fight or flight into overdrive. Erwin towered over him, his hand slamming against the door a good two feet above Levi’s head. When did he get so damn close?

Levi opened his mouth, but could produce no sound. He was scared. This wasn’t Erwin. A primal rage had overtaken him and Levi could see it in the way his eyes oozed with hostility, in the way his astute demeanor had morphed into that of a feral beast’s. Taking a chance, Levi took a breath. “Erwin…” he whispered carefully, like a cornered animal trying to negotiate with its prey. Erwin’s eyes flashed with an indescribable something. He dropped his hand.

“Fuck,” he cursed, putting his hand to his head and wobbling backward before facing Levi again.

“Fuck, Levi, I’m…” he began. Once again, Levi was experiencing a new side of Erwin, a common theme tonight.  “You…” He paused, collecting his words and continuing. “You need to understand exactly what it is I’m trying to say. It’s my life and you said it yourself earlier, I’m as good as dead. This arm…  How exactly am I supposed to fight like this?” It was barely audible, but Levi picked up a slight crack to his voice. Infuriated Erwin was shocking to see, but this completely foreign vulnerability was something else. The two had been rather close, but nothing quite like this. It was jarring, but not at all bad.

Before Levi could say anything in return, Erwin continued, voice almost hushed and pleading. “Eren is the key to saving humanity and you damn right know it. If I can just lead the charge-“ he was cut off by Levi swiftly grabbing hold of his hand. He didn’t really know what the hell he was doing, some innermost part of him doing the decision making here. The action terrified the both of them, but it was a sign of comfort and that’s all Erwin needed. Besides, it stopped him from spouting more nonsense… So that's good, right?

Noticing the slightest squeeze of his hand in return, Levi found the words he wanted to say. Needed to say. “You know I didn’t mean that. I won’t let you die out there, Erwin. We need you…” his voice grew soft before he carried on. “I need you… So I won’t let you just throw yourself away, dumbass.” Ok now he really didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. The air was stiff as Erwin only stared down at him, and Levi directed his eyes back to the discarded chair. Anything really to distract himself from Erwin’s wide eyed stare. It wasn’t working. Why wasn’t Erwin saying anything? He had made it worse. Fuck.

“I- um I’m I’ll just, I’ll just-“ Levi stammered, earnestly fumbling with the doorknob to leave. Bad choice. Bad night. Time to go. Erwin promptly grabbed Levi’s arm and pulled him closer, until he was flush with the broad surface of his chest. Levi’s face burned due to the proximity, and as Erwin snaked his arm around his middle, his dreaded blush only deepened. Not quite knowing what to do with his hands, he mirrored Erwin’s own actions, enclosing the embrace and- Oh. This is nice. Feeling Levi’s arms wrap around him, Erwin took the initiative to bend down, lowering his head to rest atop Levi’s shoulder.

“I need you too... More than anything” he breathed softly into Levi’s jacket.

Levi had never been one for flattery or sugared words. Lies only beget other lies and Levi valued honesty and definiteness. But this… This was something entirely different. Erwin’s voice was barely above a whisper, purely unguarded and emotive. This wasn’t some false declaration to earn his sympathy, but rather raw feeling, something Levi is not used to having directed at himself.

The tears came before rational thought could beat them, and Erwin deepened the hug in response. The two didn’t say a word as they stood and kept their embrace, never wanting to let go. It was then that he realized Erwin was shaking slightly, tears falling from the man in his arms as well. Levi gripped tighter onto him, his cloak bunching up into his fingers as he held on perhaps harder than need be. Levi wouldn’t normally indulge himself in such juvenile behavior, but he supposed, at least for tonight, he didn’t want to hold himself back.

Erwin’s calloused hand slowly crept its way to Levi’s neck, causing him to shiver. Unsure if this reaction was a positive one, the taller man froze. Levi understood this fearful body language and strengthened the hug, signaling it was ok. Taking this in, Erwin began to rub gentle circles on the back of Levi’s neck, causing him to stir and the fine hairs on his neck to stand. They’ve never touched, not like this. Neither dared to speak, each fearing it would end this blissful spell.

Returning the intimate gesture, Levi began to softly move the palm of his hand along Erwin’s back. Levi wasn’t a touchy-feely person - or, so he thought because being touched like this… He could truly die right here. And that would be ok.

Erwin rotated his head so he was facing the crook of Levi’s neck, and Levi shuddered as he felt Erwin’s hot, shaky breath. This in turn made Erwin nervous. What are we doing? I shouldn’t be-

Levi snaked a hand up to the base of Erwin’s neck and began to tenderly run his fingers through his hair. Erwin took this as complete reassurance that yeah, this was ok. And Levi was ok with it too. Nerves were high as Levi gripped the man’s shirt, wanting to cling to him in silence forever.

Craving his touch, Levi bent his head to face Erwin’s. Erwin noticed the sudden change in movement and opened his eyes to see Levi staring right back at him. He pulled his head back ever so slightly, ensuring he was properly facing Levi. He searched his steel eyes and found only warmth. Still, not a word was said as they got even closer, noses just barely grazing each other before finally-

Unexpectedly, a jarring thud came from outside the door. This was promptly followed by a distant “I’m ok!”. Being so caught up in the moment, Erwin jumped, his heart racing and a mess as he lifted away from Levi. He muttered a curse word before being forced to talk about what just happened between the two men.

Levi just stood there, the sudden lack of intimacy making him realize exactly what had just happened. Feeling damn near faint, he sat on the couch closest to the warm fire and Erwin followed suit, placing his hand on the cushiony surface as he glanced at the visibly nervous Levi.

Erwin reached over and grabbed Levi’s hand causing Levi to meet his gaze. “Is this ok?” He asked gingerly. Levi’s expression softened as he put his other hand on top of his. “Yeah, this is ok”. They sat like that for a moment, deep breaths filling the silence.

“At least let me come with you,” Levi said hurriedly, and Erwin’s eyes grew wide. “Levi…” He began, moving his hand to cup his cheek. Levi leaned into his touch, body settling as he listened to Erwin. “Levi, when have I ever excluded you from a mission? We're doing this together…” he pulled Levi’s face closer to his as Levi put a hand to the man’s chest.

“Together.” Levi repeated before Erwin sealed the space between them with a feather-light kiss, still not wanting to scare the shorter man away. But Levi’s return to the kiss was immediate and desperate, once again wanting to be close to the man he’d admired for years. The man he… Fuck it, the man he loved. Being held like this, being needed like this, needing him in return, it all felt so familiar despite how foreign it really was.

It was like home. Not the putrid and disgustingly cluttered underground, but rather the sentiment of it all. Being in Erwin's embrace, he thought of Farlan and Isabel, his dedication and her compassion. He thought of the ever rowdy scouts, of Hange, of the feeling of Erwin’s lips against his: that was a big one.

Levi wasn’t sure where this mission would take them, or where any of their upcoming escapades would lead them. But he was sure of one thing, as long as he was at this man’s side, his warm eyes meeting his own, he could bear it. No... They could bear it. Erwin pulled away from his lips for what felt like the tenth time this night. Grey eyes met blue, and for the first time in what had felt like years, Levi felt himself fully smiling back.

That night, perched in that dimly lit safe house on a tawny old couch, was theirs and theirs alone, forever to be looked back upon fondly. They were safe. And most importantly, they were each other’s.

“SASHA HOLY SHIT ARE YOU SEEING THIS!”

“CONNY SHUT UP!”

“MMPH!”

And most importantly, Levi had a couple of brats to silence.

[rosietaeyongswife]

black orphan |l.ty

genre: angst, smut mafia!taeyong, taeyonxreader, mafia au

tw: mentions of dead, murders, bad language, sex, mafia, mafia stuff

summary: being daugther of people who are hierarchy..well known around south korea isn’t very nice especially when they’re mafia and you killed them. u know what also isn’t easy? taking care of your younger sister.

authors note: pls if you have time it would be nice if you could read this it’s about lately thing with chinese idols. i explain there why some people should stop spreading hate on them and that it’s not really their fault.

when you were child you didn’t understand what were your parents doing. you only knew you were rich. private schools. everything you want. most expensive clothes. everything. trip to hot country in middle of the winter? no problem. you and your sister minhee had everything. but your father and mother didn’t forget to teach you that you need to work for what you have.

  you were always amazed by your parents untill you were 16 years old and started to understand what they are doing for living. your parents were killers and drug sellers. you couldn’t belive it at first but with time you understood. that’s how your family is living. that’s how kim’s family is living. with time you learned about mafia life and your parents business. your father made sure that his daughter is going to take care of their business one day.. exactly - one day. one night your mother was standing in front of you with smile.

“y/n you are getting married.” she smiled wider. “he is son of rich man who can be needed.”

“what?”

 they wanted you to marry some 40 years old man and sell your younger sister because they would had only benefits. it was this time when it hits you.

 you are just 24 years old, are you really going to kill your parents? answer is yes. few weeks ago you poisoned your parents and made sure that everyone would think that their heart stopped. because of this you were now the owner of kim hierarchy. now you are boss. 

  you were sitting at conference room with jackson when someone called you.

“yes honey?” you smiled. “how much do you need? okay. take my credit card. yes it’s fine.”

 you hung up. it was minhee. she needed some money so you gave it to her.

“it was minhee right?”

“how do you know?”

“you always smile this way when you are talking with minhee.”

“damn jackson. you know me too well.” jackson chuckled. “so now. how is the deal with sagurako family?”

“i think they don’t want to pay us.”

 you could only smile.

“they really don’t take me seriously.” you sighed. “kill his son.”

“ok, how and when?”

“whatever. tell jaebum that it’s job for him.”

“yes sir.”

 you really weren’t in mood to games. you just want money and nothing else. is this that hard? pay what they own you? your parets exactly but they are dead so you should take money, right? they don’t matter same as their children. they have five kids so one less isn’t big deal. 

 when you were sitting by your desk you heard someone. it was yugyeom. you sighed and walked to the coridor.

“why the fuck are you so loud?”

“because bambam is stupid idiot.”

“what? no!” he shout. “he almost kill me.”

“whatever. be quiter.”

“y/n wait!” yugyeom looked in to your eyes. “someoe was following minhee when she was at school and then with her friends.”

 hearing this made you upset. you know that you have much more enemies than friends but you had hope that minhee isn’t going to be part of their hit list. 

“bambam take me home i need to talk with her.”

“what are you going to do?” yugyeom was looking at you confused. he knows very well that you don’t play games. “are you going to kill somebody again?”

“ew no. she is going to have home school. ask youngjae or mark to hire someone ok?”

“yes.”

 your sister safety is your priority. she didn’t do anything wrong and she is innocnt teen. you couldn’t let someone to hurt her or even worse. of course minhee knew that yours family works in dirty business but she doesn’t know much. and it should stay like this. minhee isn’t going to take your company one day. you can’t do it. if you won’t be dead to your 60s you would give company to your child or something but at this moment it isn’t time to think about this.

 the whole house was clean. junmyeon was here for sure. you smiled softly. take off your coat and boots. first thing you did was to drink some watter. drinking watter is important especially for your brain’s work. when you were done you went to find your sister.

“minhee!” you looked around your house but you didn’t hear her back. sighing you went to check her and you could hear she was talking with someone. “minhee!”

 you walked in and first thing you saw was her with phone.

“i’m sorry. didn’t hear you.”

“yeah, it’s okay. are you fine?”

“yes. everything is fine. something happend?”

“you not gonna attend school anymore. you will have home lessons. you know teacher will be here with you.” you shrugged.

“what? no way!”

“you can’t do anything about this.”

“you can’t lock me there! the fuck y/n! i have friends there.”

“they can come to house.”

“but no..wtf. i don’t want to.”

“it’s for your safety.” you tried to hug her. “i know it’s not cool and all but i don’t have any other choice.”

 minhee was looking at you with only hate in her eyes.

“are you trying to lock me down? just like parents did to you?”

“no, of course no! it’s not it.” you took package of ciggs. “i don’t want to see that you are dead. someone is following you. if you still be arguing you’ll be dead soon.”

“w-who is following me?”

“i don’t know. jackson hire some teacher and some bodyguards so i hope you’ll be safe here if no then i have to send you to china.”

“china?”

“yes to our uncle.”

“why the fuck i can’t live normal live.”

“listen. you can’t choose family but you should be grateful for us. for what you have. i work hard for everyting we achhived.”

“how? by killing people? it’s a job for you?” she smirked. “you are exactly like parents. what else do you do? drugs? murders? are you selling people?”

“done! i’m fuckin done. you can’t leave the house for next week. better accept how things are going because i’m not gonna let you talk to me like that.” you were pissed of. “you didn’t even know them well, what can you know? you acting like i don’t care about you even tho it’s not true.” 

 minhee didn’t feel bad about what she said. she was mad at you because she didn’t want to be in home. she wants to explore. you exactly know that she doesn’t want to live the way the whole your family is living. and you also don’t want her to live the same just like you. so sending her to china is the best option. uncle isn’t in mafia and all dirty stuff the rest of the family members do so minhee can be safe there.

  your sister didn’t talk with you by the whole week. you didn’t really care because you have so much work to do. kinda proud because you made japanese family to pay you the money they owned to your parents so you were satisfied. everything went fine. things are nice so are you. no worries by the whole time. only thing you are upset about is that your family want to meet. family meeting sounds nice? no. there is going to be other mafia because remember guys - if there is family meeting that means there is going to be make big deals.

 jackson with the rest of the boys were standing next to you. 

“you look pretty.” mark said looking at you with a smile. “but where is minhee?”

“told her that she has 5 minutes untill i go there.”

“yes sir.”

 you smiled. nothing can make your day worse. you are clever person so it turns out that you made a lot of big deals so now you are just swimming in the money to be honest. everything is so fine like never and nothing can upset you. not even this damn dinner with your family and others because you’ll be there with your people.

“minhee please we don’t have time. grandma will be mad.”

“i don’t care. i don’t want to.”

 you could only sighed. walking in her bedroom made you feel like teenager again. she was kind of similiar to you but at the same time she was so different. you took her hairbrush and started brushing her hair while looking in to her eyes in the mirror.

“you are so beautiful minhee. can you see it?” she nod. “everyones eyes are going to be on us. especially you because you are younger. behave there honey ok? they won’t like acting up or something. also be ready for all the compliments.” you smiled softly. “plus.. i can’t have eyes on you whole night so be careful. if someone is bothering you..” you lean to her ear “you know what to do.”

 she nodded and stand up. ready to go and show off. you are y/n and minhee kim. you are prestige family and nobody can tell otherwise. 

 the place was huge and expensive. you knew your family like things like that but not that much. without thinking your people with you at the front walked in welcomed by some people who were smilling at you.

“mrs.kim?”

“it’s me.”

“welcome madam. have fun.”

 slight smile goes on your lips and disaper quickly. and here you are. all eyes on you and your crew. smile and confident walk by you was really indimidiating. you knew your presence here was cherry on top. your parents died in mysterious conditions and here you are leading kim’s company. isn’t it suss? it is and you know it well but it’s only made you proud. your parents were problematic and were problem not only for you but for the family and co-workers. jelous eyes of wifes and girls were on you. to be honest, you are one of the prettiest and hottest woman there and that’s why you are just eye-catching. 

 the long table was place where you and minhee should stay. your people found place to themselfs, and when they were gone you noticed that by the table was sitting bosses of others organizations.

“good evening grandma.” you goes to hug her and asked minhee to do so. “i missed you so much.”

“is this my little y/n? sunshine i missed you. how are you?” she was worried. this woman was someone who you wish were your mother. she was the only one who cares about you. your mother or father never told you “i love you” it was your precious grandma who always was making sure to say “i love you” no matter what. “is everything fine?”

“i’m fine. everything is the best. business is going really well. you know.. zeros on bank account are only growing.” you smiled. “what about you? health?”

“i feel like i’m in my 30s.” she was only 70 years old but she felt way younger. “you know even tho your grandpa is pain in ass i’m fine. i’m so happy that now you are leading business.” she smirked. “my son and his -be sorry god- wife were failure. they have never made this much money like you do.”

“grandma thank you. it’s not such a big deal.”

“it is. i’m proud of you. i’m proud that you are leading something to be even bigger.” tear came down my cheek. “and you minhee. what about you?”

“everything is okay i guess.”

“is something bothering you?” everyone were looking at your sister and you knew what she is going to say.

“i feel kinda grounded but it’s okay.”

“what?”

“y/n made me stop attend private school and have home schooling.”

“it’s against your wish?”

“yes.”

 you were now kinda mad at your sister. you know well that she said that because she still doesn’t agree with idea of home schooling and china.

“let me make things clear grandma. someone was following her and i love her too much to let someone hurt her. it’s the safest in our home.”

 your grandma sighed like everyone else in family.

“minhee you are still too immature and too young to understand things. let your sister work and decide. she is doing everything for your best.” your grandpa said while he was drinking his wine.

“but i have friends there. i have thing i’m interested in school and now i’m going to be grounded.”

 you couldn’t listen her anymore what notice your another uncle.

“minhee just let things happen. can we talk about something else? as you can see we have guests by these table.” he looked around.

 and that was the time when minhee must leave. you looked at her and she disaper. anothers girls and boys who were teens also disaper leaving the elders and bosses.

“okay so let’s talk.” your grandpa said. “my son is such a dumbass and made debts. also. police was suspecting you to be the one who killed your parents my dear y/n.”

 boss of nct, bts and monstax looked at you. you just smiled at them.

“there is no proof. i made sure to done work.” you took your glass of wine. “i’m more pro than my parents was, right? i don’t think someone is crying because of their loss.”

 you interested taeyong. he has never seen a person who openly talk about murder. about parents murder. you were that cofident that it makes him like you. he could see clearly that you don’t fuck with others. 

“mother will you let her get away with this? he still was your son.”

“will you talk like that if you knew that he signed documents about taking over your wealth? and everyone else?” you took a sip.”seokhyun you are so fuckin dumb. i hope you know why i don’t have respect for you right?” you smirked “you are pain in as..you remind me of some boy who was bothering minhee. you know what did i do with him?” he shook his head no “i shot him in front of his parents eyes. be careful.”

“what else you know?” grandpa took another bottle of wine.

“i know so much that i could easily take over business of everyone here.” you smiled. “father hide money in japan. i guess no one knows why there but it doesn’t matter. i have deal for mr. lee taeyong.”

 taeyong smiled over you. he was glad that he is going to make deal with big mrs. kim y/n. 

“i listen to you lady.”

“i know your handsome and eye-catching member named yuta nakamoto is japanese and he runs your business there. let’s say i need him. i want your help with finding money in japan.”

“i want 40% from this.”

“you want too much. it’s almost half of the money i would get. it’s not worth it. you are only finding money that are basically belonging to me.”

 you weren’t dumb. you knew that it’s way too much.

“what is your proposition?”

“i can give you 20%.”

“deal. i’m glad i’m going to work with you mr. kim.”

“same here mrs.lee i hope you not gonna fail.” he smiled. “i want to also say something. time is ticking mr. seo. and you know what happend.”

 lee taeyong stod up and leave to his members table. you looked confused at wife of your cousin jongdae.

“what happend?”

“it’s matter between me and him. please don’t ask questions.”

“okay so i can begin now.” namjoon said slightly annoyed. “what with our collaboration mrs.kim.” he was looking annoyed at your grandma

“i said i don’t know.”

“please.. my boys were working for you. i think we would be giant.”

 you were looking at them and thinking. what the fuck. you knew that bts are doing good but you also heard about their debts.

“no. if my lovely grandma said no then it’s no.” you didn’t look at him but at your glass full of wine.”don’t you want collaboration with my grandma and granpa just to pay off your debts and bills?”

 everyone was looking at your table because everyone heard it. whole nct were looking at you with shock same with bts and bosses of other mafies were spechless same with shownu.

“aren’t you too mean? it’s none of your business y/n. it’s thing between me and your grandparents.”

“exactly. and i’m not going to look how you want to take their whole wealth. how much money do you need? we can borrow you but you know.” you stand up like namjoon did few seconds ago just to come closer. “deadline is short period of time. and consequences are really big.” you smiled. “ask chan what happend when he was late with money.”

 namjoon was standing there embarrased and paralaized. you come at him and he didn’t like it. but you weren’t afraid. you are at too strong position to be moved by little kim namjoon.

“okay. borrow me a three milion dollars and i’m going to return them back.”

“sure. jackson!” you said. “make collab with my grandma but remember that i have eyes all around and i will notice if there is less money than it should be. you have month to pay me back.” jackson give you both piece of paper when you signed it. “sign it.”

“thank you and yes. month and you will have your money back.”

 after this everything went smooth. no fights. just paceful event. by the time it was time to dance and you were asked by your cousin jongdae to dance but soon enough you were dancing with lee taeyong.

“i didn’t know you were that mean and that strong.” he said while his hands were on your waist and yours around his neck.

“i don’t like playing games with someone who isn’t worht it.”

“and i like it.” he smirked. “you seem to be good player aren’t you?”

“maybe i am. mr.taeyong why are you even here?” he was confused. “i clearly see that you and your men don’t want to be there.”

“are you watching us?”

“shouldn’t i?”

“i guess you should. it scary talking with girl who killed own parents.”

 you could only smile. you aren’t afraid of anything and no one will make you feel regret. your parents deserved this and if you wouldn’t kill them they would ruin your life and your family lifes. and y’all don’t deserve this at all. your parents were selfish since you’ve been child. when there was no minhee your only friend was maid and chef. they were talking with you and play with you and your toys just to not feel alone. beside of them you had your grandparents. your grandma loved you like you were her daughter. she always made sure to say “i love you” and to check on you. and your grandpa? he would be proud and happy to walk you to your kindergarten and take care of you along with your grandma. and your parents? they didn’t care. they just thougth about money. more money and even more money. your mother was mean if she had to stay with you. she would just left you in your bedroom with toys and goes to her friend or to watch tv. and father? he didn’t even talk with you. he started to talk when he wanted you to be part of mafia. 

he taught you everything you need to know. and because of their lack of love and your knowledge of things you shouldn’t know about you are like this today. cold and emotionless. no one really show your love (not including your grandparents). kids at shool were afraid of you becasue they knew who you were and their parents didn’t allow them to play with you. in high school they didn’t want to be in touch with girl whose family is gangsters and who could kill anyone they want. you even hadn’t any best friend. no one. 

“it’s not scary. they deserved this.” you were closer. “sometimes you need to get rid of your enemies and i’m sure they were one.”

“am i your enemy?”

“if you will help me you’ll be my friend.”

since then you haven’t talked with family members. you didn’t need to. also minhee was more distant than usually. you even noticed that she is leaving and coming back late at night. you just had hope that she isn’t causing any problems. but when she was gone for two days and came back like nothing happend it makes you feel mad. mark and youngjae were nice enough to follow her around and found out that she is dating someone. minhee was dating and you didn’t even know. also, it seems like they know each other really well and are together since the very long time. 

 you were fine with it. she is 18. she can date anyone. you didn’t even care about this that she doesn’t tell you but it’s okay. it’s hers life after all. but when she were gone for a week and she doesn’t contact with you.. boy, you were really mad. minhee just disapear and have no signs of live. 

“y/n you need to calm down. she for sure is fine.” mark said “she is teenager, something like this happens.”

“but i do so much for her, why she is like this?” bambam was looking at you with sad eyes. he knew he shouldn’t feel this way but he hates your sister and seeing you hurt was really.. bad feeling. he knew how much effort you put to raise her well and take good care of. “i don’t understand. she just could told me that she want to go somewhere or something. i’m sick of it.”

“y/n.. we got it. i think she could leave with her boyfriend. yugyeom is checking him.” jackson hugged you tightly. “she is fine. minhee is strong.”

“and naive. she doesn’t even know how to defend herself what if he is going to hurt her?”

“maybe no? we don’t know.”

 when you were sitting in your office you didn’t know back then that person who is lover of your sister is who he is. reading his info was really surprising to you. it was unbeliveble. member of nct. 

 sound of your heels could be hear in headquarter of nct. your usually outfit on you - dark coat and black boots above your knees. people called you black orphan because of the fact that you are orphan basically and because you only dressed in black.

 members of nct who noticced you were whispering something about black orphan being here. you were walking slowly don’t even bother to look at them. you had goal - find minhee. jackson and rest of the boys were behind you and were in the line. like always.

“excuse me, what are you doing here?” man named mark was in front of you. “i don’t remember that you were invited.”

“i don’t need invitation.” you growled. “better find kim minhee and park jisung.”

 face of mark knew that is going to happen and why are you here. taeyong and rest of the members of nct couldn’t belive that jisung is letting his girlfriend stay in their place. taeyong was against and mad because he found out by accident when he was checking bathroom and minhee was going to bathroom. he almost killed her.

 when mark was about to go your sister and her s/o were near. minhee was looking at you surprised. she knew you could find her but didn’t think that you would come to nct. 

“i count to 10 and we coming home.”

“i’m not leaving.” she hissed. “i’m sick of being under your control.”

“what is this noise here?” taeyong appeard in his hallway. the crowd of his people were looking around whole argument.

“you living with my money that i worked for. i pay your bills and all. i’m doing everything for you to have amazing life. why don’t you understand that you will never be normal girl? you will never. you will always be “daughter of mafia” or “sister who hate her parents”. you should accept this.”

“that’s why i fuckin hate you!” she scream. “i don’t want your help. you think you did everything well. i want to throw up everytime i reminds to myself what you are doing. i don’t want to be part of this also i don’t want to live in china. i want to decide.”

you laughed like freak. you were looking at your little sister and couldn’t think of anything but how stupid she actually is. 

“i’m not asking you.” you hissed. “you are ungretful, spoiled brat who thinks that owns the world and is main charcater, don’t you? if you want to be that independent okay. i’m going to block all back acounts from you. from now on you will work your ass off for money. i’m starting counting and you better come here.” you looked in to her eyes. “1..2..3..”

“you aren’t my mother. my mother is dead! understand this!”

 jaehyun was about to say something but taeyong stopped him. he was enjoying the show in front of him. he really loves how crazy you actually are.

“i’m staying with jisung. i won’t come back to home.”

“you are making disrace for our surname. don’t act like fool and come to home. i’m at 7.”

minhee didn’t even flinch.

“i’m not scared of you. after all i’m your family.”

“are you sure honey?” you touched her cheek. “do you know how killed your lovely parents?” she denied. “i did. funni isn’t it? everyone know but not their own daughter. i think you should be scared of me at that point.”

 minhee couldn’t belive her ears. you killed your parents. she was living with you not knowing about everything.

“you are crazy bitch! i hate you! i hate this family! one day i’ll make sure that police or media destroy you.”

“good luck.” you winked and slapped her. “you are no longer part of kims family. i don’t need you. you were the one that needed me.” you said harshly stepping closer and touched her chest to push her. “you are no one know. there is no coming back. you are done in my eyes. dead. and if i see you in my way i’m going to kill your love and then you. and guess what? nothing will bother to help find justice.” you shrugged and smiled one last time “you are free. make sure to change surname and to make it like we have never been family.”

 minhee was holidng her cheek and crying. at this point she knew that she doesn’t really know her own family. that there is secrets that are creepy and scary just like them. and she was sure she doesn’t want to involved. but now she was feeling bad because of what she said. jisung had tried hundred times explain her who you are. that she is doing it for her safety because thousands of people wants her head and she still didn’t listen.

 taeyong was following you.

“are you going to stop going after me or you want me to beat you up?”

“don’t need to be so harsh. i just want to ask you something.” he smiled. “have you ever been in love?”

“the fuck mr. lee? i only met you few times and i talk with you for the second time.”

“just answer me y/n.” his eyes was shining and you liked this view. you liked him to be honest. he did awesome work by finding your fathers money. he was loyal to you and you liked it. also he was handsome. why don’t like him?

“no. i have never been in love. having crush in daughter of mafia doesn’t sound nice right?”

“i don’t belive. you are way too pretty and too smart to be alone the whole time.” you smiled. he was cheesy but you liked it. “i think this can change.”

“do you want to seduce me?” you asked with little smile. “make me feel like i’m special and leave next day?”

“who said i would leave?” he smirked. “you are really something y/n.”

“i think we could talk about it.”

 and here you are. taeyong brings happines to your live. you have never experinced things like the one you do with taeyong. you are no longer alone. you wake up usually in his bed with his eyse piercing in to your soul. jackson and boys were happy that someone is interested in you and you are intrested in someone. they have never seen you having crush in male. but here you are. all over heels over lee taeyong. you didn’t like the idea of him having you wrapped around his finger but who cares? you like it.

“y/n what are you thinking about?”

“taeyong would you kill for me?”

“isn’t it obvious? i know you can do it by yourself but i would always kill anyone who is messing with my girl.”

“since when i’m your girl?”

“since the first time i’ve heard of you y/n.” he kissed you. “why you asking?”

“i feel like i spend way too much time with you so i need to make sure that you are worth it.”

“are you doubting me?” he touch your cheeks. “look at us. we are in my apartment in japan with beautiful view on sea. we are here alone having the best sex of our lives. having each other and telling silly secrets.” he hugged you and you lay your head on his chest. “we don’t need to stress about business. we have each other now. it’s feels like heaven.” 

“we are in japan. we are looking at the sea.” you smiled softly. “it’s almost like dream.”

“i know you have never thing like this. i want to show you life colors you know?” he smiled. “i want you to be happy. i want to see that you enjoy your time and let someone like you more than friend.”

“you just saying that.” you sighed. “you are going to leave soon like everyone in my life. but it’s okay.”

“you will never get rid of me.” he looked deadly in to your eyes. “past six months was like arcadia with you by my side. i feel like i can love you and i know that no one ever loved you the way i do.” he smiled. “but i’m here. i love you.”

“what?”

“you heard me and i’m not going to say this again.”

“lee taeyong you make me feel needed.”

 he was messing so much with your head and you didn’t even mind. he was there. he was with you and makes you forget about any problems. about stress. about work. time with him is smooth. and you love it.

“can we make love this time? not fuck? i want to feel your love even if it’s temporary.” you said with eyes closed while you kissed him

 taeyong smiled wide. he loved the idea of making love and not just fuck.

“my girl is soft.” he teased. “i want to do it. love.”

“i hate you so much sometimes.” you rolled your eyes. “i’m not going to ask anymore. it’s just this once.”

“alright. i got it.”

 you were sure that taeyong will disapear. you can’t show feeling but taeyong.. he show you love. he was there. you didn’t even know when you started to finding yourself making breakfasts for him. hugging him for every 5 minutes. telling him your dreams. listen to him and advice him. making him happy. it comes to you naturally just by watching his moves to you. it was so soft and so new to you. proudness. it what’s you feel. you could love taeyong. you didn’t even love your parents nor sister. it was more like obligation. but with taeyong? you realized your feeling when you were missing him and your mind just focus on him.

 you wanted to be best girlfriend to him. one time he even just put gun in your mouth and say to suck it if you love him just to then have you moaning “love yous”. and you did. not thinking twice. at this moment you both knew that it’s simply love between dificult people.

 taeyong was deep in you. you could feel him hitting right spots.

“how’s my kitten feeling?”

“good. good sir.” you moaned. “i feel like i’m close.” you whines

“i love view of you. you are perfect for me even your pussy is made for me.” he moeaned. “look at you under me. lovely.”

“stop talking and just make me cum.”

“marry me.”

 you were that confused. you were at edge of orgasm and he is telling you this.

“taeyong why are you saying this when we fuck?”

“why not? will you marry me?” he punted deeper and faster. “i would love to see you with my surname. lee y/n.” he smiled giving you hickeys “all by myself. my wife.”

“you got to be kidding me.” you laughed “we are having sex and you asking me about mar-”

 you couldn’t end your sentence because taeyong circled your clit and suddenly wave of pleasure hit you like ddu du and you cum. moaning his name and curling.

“answer kitten.”

“yes. i want to fuckin marry you lee dumbass taeyong.”

[paterson-blue]

Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 3

Part 3: The Date

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: Things don't go exactly to plan. Clyde stresses.

Word Count: 4,010

Warnings: fluff, spice, grumpy Clyde Logan, pouty boy (but he's still in love), sentimentalism, sickly sweet pet names, smoochin', grindin', oral sex (male receiving), cum on body (not in!), original female character–let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Thanks again to @paper-n-ashes for being my beta reader & quelling all my writing jitters. You're the absolute best!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

It’s a fuckin’ disaster.

Starts out nice. Juniper shows up on his doorstep wearin’ a slinky little black dress, one that shows off her curves and makes Clyde’s mouth go dry. She tells him he looks handsome and he feels giddy. He sweeps his newly styled hair out of his face, sayin’ she looks absolutely stunnin’. Juniper beams, grabs his hand, tells him they better get a move on ‘fore they’re late.

They’re late. They’re later than late.

They aren’ five minutes outta town when lightenin’ starts to streak across the sky. Clyde shifts uneasily, eyes cast upward towards the swirling heavens. It’s rainin’ cats and dogs in no time and Juniper has to slow to half the speed limit to drive safely. Clyde’s thoughts go to the river up ahead, the one the road crew was still tryna’ re-stabilize since the last storm flooded it.

Fifteen minutes from their destination and they have t’pull to a stop on the highway, suddenly blocked in a jam. Flashin’ red and blue lights indicate an accident up front, and while Clyde spares a thought to whoever was involved, he can’t help but check the time. They aren’ gonna make their reservation, he just knows it.

The car behind ‘em lays on its horn, the sound makin’ both Clyde & Juniper jump. The driver either doesn’ seem to understand the concept of bein’ stuck or plain just don’ care. Clyde clenches his jaw, glowerin’ into the rear view mirror—he can only see the driver’s silhouette behind the bright glow of the headlights. He’s keepin’ his cool until the driver reaches his arm out, in the pourin’ rain an’ all, just t’give Juniper the finger.

Clyde’s unbucklin’ his belt quick as can be, chest heavin’ as he reaches for the door handle. He’s ‘bout ready to stomp to the car and yank the man out.Teach ‘im a lesson on manners, teach ‘im t’treat a lady like—

“Clyde.” Juniper stops him in his tracks with just his name on her lips. He looks over at her from under his hair, expression tense. She reaches up to caress his cheek, holdin’ his face in her little palm so sweetly, thumb brushin’ over the sharp line of his jaw. “Leave him be. It’s not worth gettin’ into trouble.”

Clyde deflates, honey brown eyes downcast. He sounds miserable when he speaks. “… We’re gonna miss dinner.”

“I know, sugar. It’s okay.”

His heart flutters in his broad chest despite his distress. She’d called him ‘sugar.’ He likes that; wants to hear it again real soon.

By the time they get through all the traffic and make it to the restaurant, their reservation is indeed gone, table havin’ been given away. They stand together just outside the building, under the little awning in an attempt to stay out of the rain.

Clyde huffs, so morose that he’s unable to enjoy the way she was pressed up against his side. “M’sorry.”

Juniper frowns, reachin’ up to pat his stomach gently. “You stop that. You haven’t done anything to be sorry for.”

Clyde shakes his head sadly, heavin’ out a sigh. “It’s the Logan Family Curse.”

She looks up at him, brows arched, her hand still settled on his belly. “Oh is it now?”

He nods, brows pinched together. Juniper reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressin’ a kiss to his knuckles. “You aren’t cursed, Clyde Logan. And if you are, I’m perfectly happy to be cursed right along with you.”

Clyde doesn’ quite know how to respond to that, but luckily, he doesn’t have to right away. Juniper moves her lips to the pads of his large fingers, kissin’ ‘em gently before lettin’ him pull his hand away. Clyde cradles her pretty face in his palm, takin’ the time to admire her. Finally, he speaks. “Thank you, darlin’. That’s mighty nice of you t’say.”

Juniper nuzzles into his touch, sighin’ happily; it makes Clyde feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’m only saying what’s true. Now c’mon. I know it’s a Friday night but there’s bound to be somewhere we can eat.”

They end up findin’ an old fashioned drive-in burger place, somewhere they can park and eat in the car out of the rain. It’s not where Clyde wants to take her; she deserves to be wined and dined all proper, not greasy burgers and milkshakes. But Juniper doesn’ seem to mind; as soon as they’re parked she’s squintin’ up at the menu, a big smile on her face.

“This all sounds so fucking good.” She giggles, lookin’ over at him. It makes the disappointment in Clyde’s chest fade away, and he leans over the center console to peer out the window to see what choices they were offered. It puts him in her space, and Juniper leans in to press a gentle kiss to his temple. He blushes, his cheeks only getttin’ hotter when she brushes some of his hair out of his face. He desperately wants to kiss her but he doesn’ know if it’s the right time.

He’s finally acceptin’ the night’s change of plans—finally acceptin’ that this might be good, burgers and fries while dressed up nice, watchin’ the rain pour from the safety of Juniper’s little Corolla—when the carhop comes out to tend to them. Clyde’s already diggin’ into his wallet as Juniper rattles off their order; he holds his debit card out, arm reachin’ over Juniper’s lap.

The carhop doesn’ move for the card. Instead, they say “Card machine’s down. Cash only.” in what Clyde thinks is possibly the most bored tone they could muster. He tries not to bristle as he fumbles with his wallet for a second time, patience already worn thin from the night’s events. He’s only got a fifty in his billfold. The fifty.

Their fifty.

He hesitates, even though he knows it’s irrational; Jimmy always did tell him he was too damn sentimental for his own good. Juniper must realize—she always does, Clyde never seems to have to explain himself to her—because she grabs her purse from the floorboard. Clyde stops her, shakin’ his head as he tugs the fifty dollar bill out. “S’alright, darlin’. Y’told me t’save it for a rainy day.”

Juniper’s face softens at his words, and Clyde hands the money over to the carhop, who looks like they want to be literally anywhere else. Soon Clyde’s been given his change, and he quickly puts it back up. As soon as he’s done Juniper’s reachin’ for him, pullin’ him in by his collar. Clyde goes willingly, twistin’ in his seat to move his prosthetic to the middle of her back, arm wrapped around her.

“I’ll give you another one.” She tells him firmly, and Clyde huffs out a laugh.

“Well that’d be awful silly of ya, Junebug. You’ll run outta money real quick if y’keep givin’ it all t’me.” He tries to soothe her with a joke, wantin’ to let her know that it was alright. Sure, it had been special to him—reminded him of their meetin’—but it was just a piece a’ paper. What was a piece a’ paper when he had the most important thing right here in front a’ him?

He wants to curl up further into her, but their positions don’t allow for it—the vehicle doesn’ exactly allow for him to move his long limbs much a’ anywhere. If this was as close as he could get, he was satisfied. Juniper shifts suddenly, eyes trained on him as she leans closer. They share a breath, then two, and then she’s pressin’ her mouth against his.

It’s nothin’ if not chaste. Clyde gets the feelin’ she doesn’ exactly want to neck in the front seat of her car like teenagers—at least not in plain view of the drive-in’s staff and other patrons. Just a gentle kiss, a little more than a peck; firm and lingerin’ just enough that he knows it happened. Juniper follows it up with another one at the corner of mouth, their noses pressin’ against one another’s cheeks.

It’s more than enough for Clyde; more than enough to get his pulse to sky rocket. He can’t remember the last time he’s been treated so gently, so much love in such a small movement. She gives him a smile when she pulls away, and they both sit back in their seats, starin’ all heart-eyed at one another. She takes the metal of his hand in hers, holdin’ it, and Clyde thinks maybe he should reconsider the whole curse thing.

They head back home after finishin’ their meal, the storm slowly peterin’ off as they get closer to Clyde’s trailer. Juniper walks him to his door, gigglin’ when she offers him her arm to escort him. He takes it, grinnin’ like a fool as they stomp up the front steps. They stand there under the yellow porch light, humid heat surroundin’ ‘em. Clyde usually hated the humidity, but not when it was like this, creatin’ such a hazy, intimate bubble around ‘em. Juniper drops her arm, but only to reach for Clyde’s flesh hand, holdin’ it in both of hers.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Clyde. Best date I’ve ever been on—and I mean that.”

Clyde can feel himself blushin’, a pleased smile turnin’ his lips up. “I had a good time, too. Wouldja—wouldja wanna do it again? Sometime soon?”

“Yes.” She answers almost before he can finish askin’, and they both laugh. There’s a beat, a pause, a breath, and then Juniper is leanin’ up the same moment Clyde’s leanin’ down. It’s a relief when their lips touch, like the first drink a’ water in the mornin’. Clyde thinks he’s been parched his whole life and never even knew it.

Juniper’s the one who deepens it, the one who drops his hand to lean into him, to thread her fingers through his thick hair, holdin’ him close. And fuck, Clyde isn’ gonna fight it. He wraps his arm around her, prosthetic against her back as his hand moves to hold her face. His palm envelops her cheek, thumb under her chin to keep her head lifted. They kiss and kiss, and when she makes a little whine in the back of her throat Clyde swears he’s floatin’.

When she pulls away to breathe he makes a sound of his own, a disappointed little groan that she huffs out a laugh at. He’d be embarrassed if she wasn’ nuzzlin’ her nose against his cheek like she can’t get enough.

“Those lips a’ yours aren’t fair.” She murmurs, and Clyde hums, strokin’ his thumb along her jawline. He doesn’ want this to end, he thinks for possibly the thousandth time that night. He doesn’ wanna let her get back in her car an’ drive across town, over the train tracks, past the antique shop, until she gets to the bed & breakfast.

He wants her right here, and he’s never been the one in this position, but he doesn’ hesitate when he asks her, “D’y’wanna come in?”

She nods, and it sets his chest aflame. They straighten up, untanglin’ themselves from one another even as she leans into his side, not wantin’ t’be too far. Clyde’s hands shake as he unlocks the front door but he doesn’ care if she sees. He wants her to see, wants her to know what she’s doin’ t’him. Maybe then...maybe she won’t leave.

Clyde flicks on the lights, closin’ the door behind both of ‘em. He watches as Juniper assesses his things: his clumsily cleaned living area, the small kitchenette that was (thankfully) decluttered. The hallway leads back to the bathroom, and then his bedroom, but Clyde doesn’ dare look towards it, much less lead her that way. Instead, he steps towards the fridge, hand reachin’ out to brush against the door.

“Want anythin’ t’drink?” He asks, voice quiet, as if nervous to disturb the silence. Juniper shoots him a smile, shakin’ her head as she perches on the couch.

“No, I’m okay, thank you.”

Clyde nods, lingerin’ there even though he doesn’ want a drink neither. Her eyes look him over, amusement showin’ in them.

“Why don’t you c’mere? If you want, of course.”

He wants. Oh, how he wants. So he goes, movin’ across the distance between them in three long strides until he can sit himself next to her. He’s stock straight, heart thrummin’ in his chest; his nice button-down feels all tight against his skin, too itchy. He thinks only her touch’ll soothe it, but doesn’ wanna ask her. Juniper, however, reads his mind; she always can. She smoothes a hand over his jean-clad thigh, leanin’ in ever so slowly, like she’s gonna startle him if she moves too fast. Clyde’s breath catches in his throat as she kisses him again, and it's heaven, it's heaven.

It’s different from in the car, from on the porch. This time there’s more purpose to it. Juniper’s kissin’ him—tastin’ him— like he belongs to her, and Clyde thinks maybe it's because she knows he does. He’s tryna’ angle his body just right, tryin’ t’lean down without puttin’ a crick in his neck. Not that he’d care much, if he did--a crick was worth this, worth the feelin’ of her tongue brushin’ against his bottom lip, against his teeth.

Juniper makes a frustrated little noise, pullin’ back, and Clyde’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Wha--Wha’s--?” He stammers out, flesh hand flexin’ on her waist, the silky fabric of her dress feelin’ so soft and cool against his skin. Juniper’s lips are plush and kiss bitten; Clyde tries to take a picture of ‘em in his memory, eyes trained on their pretty color. He almost misses her question. Scratch that, he does miss her question; has to very ineloquently say “huh?” to get her to repeat it. She ducks her head, voice shy.

“Can I, uh--get in your lap?”

Shit. Shit. Clyde nearly feels dizzy for all the blood rushin’ down south. It makes him a little self-conscious; she’s not gonna want t’sit on his lap and have his cock pressin’ into her all demandin’ like. But damn, his little Junebug looks so eager, her eyes darker than he’s ever seen ‘em, and like he’d said: he wants. So he just nods, barely breathin’.

Juniper shifts, pushin’ him into the back of the couch and he goes easily, willingly. She hikes her dress up her legs and Clyde gets a barely there peek of dark green lace before she’s straddlin’ his lap. He moans, can’t fuckin’ help it, and Juniper dives in to capture the sound with her mouth. Her hands are on his face, in his hair, fingers rubbin’ the shells of his ears—he’s surrounded, he’s drownin’, suffocatin’. He’s never felt so alive.

His own hands are placed chastely on either one of her hips, though he knows his flesh hand must be grippin’ her somethin’ fierce. The thought flashes in his mind, of him leavin’ little fingerprint shaped bruises on her skin for her to feel the next day. It makes him shiver underneath her.

Juniper takes and takes, and Clyde lets her. Clyde wants to be taken, in whatever way she’ll have him. Suddenly she’s pullin’ away just enough to suck in a little air, lips still brushin’ against his. He presses his long nose into the soft skin of her cheek, breath hot between them. When Juniper speaks, her voice is strained.

“Touch me, Clyde. Please.”

He doesn’ hesitate. His good hand moves from her hip to her ass, grabbin’, kneadin’ as he pulls her tighter against him. She lets out the prettiest noise Clyde thinks he’s ever heard, and his lips find her neck as his other arm comes around to hold her close. God, she tastes so good; her perfume fills his head until he feels dizzy with it.

She's pressed flush to him like this, grindin’ her hips against his. Clyde’s hard and leakin’ in his brand new jeans and the only thing he can think of is hearin’ her little noises again. Her hands are back in his hair, pullin’ at it, sweepin’ it away from his face so he doesn’ get tangled in it as his mouth makes a hot path down the neckline of her dress.

It feels so damn good that Clyde doesn’ realize she’s tryin’ to get his attention until she yanks on his tresses, his scalp burnin’ from it. Honestly he thinks he groans, rough and wild in his throat, the pain shootin’ straight to his cock. But it makes him look at her, and she holds him from divin’ back into her skin.

“Clyde I wanna—I wanna taste you. Is that okay? Can I?”

Lord Almighty above. That should be his line, it really should. But how can he argue with her? He’d give her anythin’ she wanted, anythin’. And she wanted—wanted to put her mouth on him. Clyde spares a thought for all the trimmed and proper men he’s seen in porn, how much nicer they looked, how Juniper deserved the best. West coast mean surely didn’ look the way he did. But then,“Yes,” he’s sayin’, voice ragged, “yes.”

And she’s slippin’ out of his lap onto the floor between his legs. Clyde’s heart pinches, and he leans forward to pick her right back up. To say “oh, darlin’, y’don’ need to be on the hard floor like that. Lemme stand an’ you c’n sit right back on these here pillows.” But before he can get his legs under him she's pressin’ her face between ‘em, nuzzlin’ into the scratchy fabric of his jeans, right up against his cock. Clyde’s brain short circuits.

“Been wantin’ this.” Juniper murmurs, small hands workin’ at his belt, and Clyde arches his hips up, tryin’ t’help her get his jeans off. He can’t believe this—can’t believe this is happenin’. She tugs his jeans and pants down his legs, just enough that his cock is revealed. Clyde clumsily unbuttons the first couple buttons at the bottom of his shirt, not wantin’ to get the new fabric messy. Juniper seems to like his idea; she sighs and leans forward to press her lips to the bare skin of his stomach.

“Sweetheart.” Clyde whispers, voice all trembly. He stretches out a little, givin’ her more access to his pale abdomen. Her lips are so soft against his skin, against the dark trail of hair leadin’ down, down, down. She follows it, nosin’ to the crook of his thigh, teeth scrapin’ deliciously ‘fore she turns her attention to his cock—already plump and stiff, and very interested in her ministrations. She wraps a hand around it and Clyde’s breath catches in his throat. She studies his cock, gives it a gentle stroke, thumb rubbin’ at the velvety head.

“You’re so big.” Her voice is quiet, but it startles Clyde all the same—he’s been transfixed by the vision in front of him.

“O-Oh, I-m, uh—“

He’s attemptin’ to apologize—his first instinct, really. But his brain isn’t really functionin’ all that well, and then she’s leanin’ in to lave her tongue over his slit. Clyde groans, a sound comin’ deep from his chest as he zeros in on the pretty pink of her soft, wet tongue. Juniper hums as if she’s pleased, a little smile on her face, and then she’s slippin’ her mouth over his cock in earnest.

Clyde’s head drops back against the couch pillow, lungs strugglin’ to suck in air. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck—it felt so good. She was gorgeous, she was perfect, she was a fucking angel doin’ this for him. She couldn’ take all of him into her mouth but goddamn she was tryin’. It didn’ matter—even if she wasn’ usin’ her hand to make up the difference, Clyde thinks he could cum just from seein’ her there between his legs, her silky soft lips on his skin.

He moves with her—not in a way where he’s pushin’ her or askin’ for more, but in a way where she’s pullin’ him; she’s the ebb and flow of the tide and he follows her willingly. His back arches, toes curlin’ up in his boots; his prosthetic settles on top of her free hand where it was grippin’ one of his large thighs. His other hand is too busy grippin’ the couch cushions to do much else. He’s lost to it—to her—an’ he doesn’ wanna be found.

It’s over far too quickly, embarrassingly so—it even surprises him. He’s ridin’ the high of his pleasure and his orgasm hits him so hard and fast that Clyde barely has any time t’warn her. All he can do is make a frantic noise, her name garbled in his throat as he quickly tries to push her off a’ him. But it’s too late—he’s cummin’ the same time that she’s pullin’ away, and Clyde can only watch in an odd mix of both arousal and horror as his cum paints her chin, neck, and cleavage.

Juniper’s mouth is held open in a surprised little ‘o’ shape, brows arched, and Clyde feels fuckin’ humiliated.

“J-Juniper, darlin’, m’so sorry, I—“ He scrabbles behind him for the throw blanket layin’ across the back of the couch, tuggin’ it into his lap so he can clean his mess off a’ her skin. He’s quick to tend to the spend on her cleavage first, hyperaware of how close it was to the fabric of her pretty black dress. “I’m sorry, I tried t’warn ya but it was too—“

“Clyde, it’s okay.” Her voice is all raspy and Clyde bites back a moan at the sound of it. She was so fuckin’ sexy, fuckin’ flawless. He’d cum all over her, messy and wild, and she was still lookin’ at him like he’d hung the damn moon. She pulls herself to standin’, and Clyde’s gaze dips down to where her knees were all red from kneelin’. Just another thing he didn’ know he found hot until now.

“But I guess it’s a little dangerous to keep this on, huh?”

His gaze snaps up to her face when she speaks, and she’s wearin’ a grin, eyes alight. Then she’s twistin’ her arms around, wrigglin’ out of that cute little dress until it graces the linoleum floor. She bends down to pick it up, drapin’ it carefully over one of the kitchen chairs. She moves like it’s nothin; like the sight of her in her heels and underwear ain’ makin’ his cock try to thicken up again.

“Yer so beautiful.” He tells her, gaze trained on her as she walks back over to him. Clyde feels so small with her standin’ in front of him; feels vulnerable even if he was still mostly dressed. Juniper steps out of her heels slowly, placin’ them to the side before leanin’ in, restin’ her hands on the back of the couch on either side of his head so she can kiss him.

Clyde runs his flesh hand over her bare waist, down the swell of her hip, toyin’ with the band of her underwear. He doesn’t push it down; he won’t without her permission. It’s enough to kiss her like this, soft and lazy, feelin’ her skin underneath his. He feels all gooey and happy from his orgasm, even if it had come sooner than he’d have liked.

He sighs into her mouth, content; chases her lips when she pulls away. Juniper starts to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he sits up to help her ease it off a’ his shoulders. She folds it neatly, settin’ it to the side; Clyde forces himself to speak, tryin’ to get his brain back in workin’ order. “D’y’wanna—wanna go back to the bedroom? You c’n lay down and I’ll—I’ll take care a’ ya.”

He thinks he sounds all awkward and silly, but Juniper gives him a warm smile, and his insecurities fade. She was always comfortin’ him, whether she knew it or not. She places one last lingerin’ kiss to his lips before noddin’ at him. “I’d like that.”

______________________________________________________________

taglist friends!

@paper-n-ashes @glassbxttless @mariesackler @leatherboundbirate @millenialcatlady @jynzandtonic @peachyproserpina

[lennonknowsmysins]

could you do the gangster au but the “turning point” in their relationship?? i love your work so much 🥰

pt. 3 to gangster!George

tw: mobster gets a little too handsy, mild violence, arguing

-

You and George had been married for a month and you’d had maybe five conversations with him. He was a reserved man but you weren’t sure what else you expected from a gangster. Truthfully, you weren’t sure you minded. Since your conversation with Cynthia, Linda and Maureen, he didn’t put you on edge every time he was in the room but he still intimated you. George was practically always working, spending all day in his study (which you still had yet to see) and coming to bed late. He never tried to wake you up but you still liked to wait for him, pretending to be asleep.

Realistically, you figured you shouldn’t be too upset with him for not making much of an effort to get to know you considering hadn’t attempted to reach out to him either. Still, when the only time you really saw him was dinner and he spent most of the time talking to his mates, you couldn’t deny that you felt ignored. It wasn’t like you were thrilled to be married either.

The real struggle was trying to find something to do with yourself. Normally, you’d be busy with school but part of your father cutting off your freedom including forcing you to drop out of university. Now nothing seemed to hold your interest.

Linda, who you learned was a journalist (making her and Paul’s relationship taboo in the mob world), had begun enlisting you to spell check her articles. You spent a good amount of time with Cynthia as she’d invited you to help her paint the baby nursery. She was a lovely woman and you enjoyed her company but even as you painting those little blue birds and bounced baby names off one another, you couldn’t help the looming feeling of loneliness. You were just disconnected from the rest of them. Cynthia, Linda and Maureen were involved with each others lives while you...well, you were just there.

You were manifesting that your first public outing with George - some sort of annual gathering for allied mobs - would do something to help the disconnect between the two of you.

-

Upon entering the mansion, you pressed yourself closer to George. You may have not felt entirely comfortable with him but since Cynthia and Linda hadn’t been able to come (Cynthia because she was pregnant, Linda because of her profession) and Maureen was very much looking forward to having a date night with Ringo, George was your lifeline for the night.

The hall was full of men in fancy suits with dark looks in their eyes, most of them appearing to be twice your age. One by one, they came up to George, asking him about business deals and his father before eventually landing on you, at which point, George thankfully steered you away.

“Sorry about all of them.” George apologized, finding a seat on a couch in the corner of the room, “They’re swingers, the whole lot. ‘s why my da stopped coming to these events.”

You snorted as you sat down, “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am. They’ve been dropping hints that they’re interested in an orgy ever since we got married. Quite frankly, I’m not sure how to tell them no.” George said, shooting you a look. You burst into laughter, making George smile.

“Wait here, I have to talk to someone but I’ll be right back.” George told you, squeezing your shoulder before standing and beckoning to Paul. Paul smiled at you apologetically, following George and leaving you all alone in the corner. You watched Maureen dance with Ringo. You wished Linda and Cyn were here, if George wouldn’t dance with you, you were sure they would. At least, you wouldn’t be lonely.

Your bottom lip trembled but before you could feel too sorry for yourself, you felt the couch dip. A handsome blond man with the most dazzling blue eyes you’d ever seen had sat next to you. He wore a suit of velvet purple and had a martini glass in one hand and a curious grin on his face. A feeling of dread immediately crept into your gut.

“Now, why would a lovely lady such as yourself be sitting here all by herself?” He hummed in a confident tone. Unsure of how to react to the situation, you turned your eyes to your drink, swishing the clear liquid around.

“Waiting for someone.” You murmured back. You could’ve sworn that as soon as you’d said that, he scooted closer to you.

“You can call me Yates.” He said, although you hadn’t asked, “I don’t believe I caught your’s?”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I’m not sure I feel comfortable telling you that.”

“Aw, why not? Is it because I’m a big, scary gangster?” Yates chuckled, definitely scooting closer this time. He continued when you didn’t respond, “That’s fine baby, I’ll come up with one for you. It’s just important you know mine so you know what to scream later.”

Your face twisted in disgust and you would’ve attempted to get up had it not been for his hand curling around your thigh. The sudden grip made you freeze, giving Yates a chance to press himself against you.

“Let go of me. I’m here with my...my h-husband.” You stammered, trying to sound tough.

“Come on now, you don’t sound so sure of that. I doubt that George is that much of a husband anyhow.” He leered, tapping your cheek. Just as you were about to retort, Yates was being dragged off of you.

An angry George stood before you, clutching Yates’ collar in his fist. Everyone around you had stopped what they were doing to watch you.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch my wife.”

With that simple warning, he dropped the creep and grabbed your wrist, pulling you from your seat. As he brought you to the exit, the crowd resumed the party as though nothing had happened. You assumed this sort of thing happened often at mob events.

Once you were outside, George let go of you to light a cigarette, not bothering to look at you as he took a drag. John and Paul burst through the door after you.

“What the fuck just happened mate?” John asked.

“Yates had his hands all over (y/n).” George spat bitterly. The two men turned to you, shivering in your dress.

The alarm on Paul’s face dropped to concerned, “Are you alright, love?”

“I’m fine. Just a bit freaked out.” You shrugged, still trying to process the event. You hadn’t seen George this angry before.  

“Yer cryin’.” John pointed out bluntly. You blinked, touching your cheek. Huh. You hadn’t realized.

George tilted his head towards you with an unreadable expression. He placed the cigarette between his lips, shrugging off his suit jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders.

“‘m taking her home.” He decided, putting an arm around you, “Paul, can you take John, Rich and Mo in your car?”

“Course, but-”

George didn’t wait for Paul to finish, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards his Mercedes. You glanced behind you to see Ringo and Maureen had joined John and Paul, who were explaining the situation to them. You caught Maureen’s sympathetic look before the car door closed.

-

The entire ride was silent, an awkward, bitter silence sitting between you and George. He didn’t even look at you as you walked up to the house, leaving the door for you to close.

“Go to bed.” George ordered gruffly, his back turned to you as he headed toward his office.

You stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. He hadn’t really just spoken to you like you were a misbehaving child and not his wife.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

George paused. Then he turned around, his eyebrows set in annoyance. He wasn’t used to people questioning him, “What did you say?”

“I asked if you were joking about telling me to go to bed.” You huffed, rolling your eyes, “You know, just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean you control me.”

He glared at you, his eye twitching as he tried to think of a response. You saved him the trouble,

“For the record, you didn’t have to make such a big scene back there.”

“He had his hands all OVER you!” He spluttered, spit flying from his mouth, “And it wasn’t like you were doing anything to stop him!”

“I was scared, a strange man was invading my space because my husband completely abandoned me at a party where I didn’t know anyone!” You shout, your voice shaking as it echoed through the ridiculously large foyer.

George’s sour expression softened and you notice he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He swallowed thickly, “I had to talk to someone.”

“You still left me all alone.” You whispered angrily, “I know that this isn’t what either of us wanted and if I could, I’d go back and stop my father from getting us in this situation but we don’t have that choice.

You took a shuttering breath, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before continuing,

“George, I get that we’re from two completely different worlds but I just had mine completely uprooted for your’s. You’ve barely spoken to me since the first two days after the wedding. For god’s sake, we sleep in the same damn bed and I don’t know that we’ve ever had a conversation. Y’know, the only thing I actually know about you is that you’re a mobster? I...I was just really hoping that tonight could fix that.”

George’s face didn’t change throughout the course of your rant but there was something that looked like a mix of surprise and guilt in his brown eyes. Ever the man of few words, he didn’t respond - you didn’t know if he didn’t want to or if he didn’t know how. You shook your head.

“No, no, you know what? I am gonna go to bed. I need some sleep.” You muttered, turning away from him and storming up the stairs without another word.

Linda was waiting for you at the top of the stairs but you brushed by her in silence, too pissed for any intellectual conversation. You slammed the bedroom door shut, not bothering to turn the lights or take your clothes off. You curled up above the covers, looking out the window.

The wind blew softly, gently rustling the leaves of the tree peaking through the glass. A single tear trailed down your cheek as you thought about how you hadn’t even gotten to dance with George. The night had been spoiled from the start.

At some point, you finally managed to fall asleep, missing the lanky, mop toped figure that took your shoes off and tucked you in.

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet ugly asks, 18 with the ot4? nsfw, if possible? thanks

Here you go! It is indeed NSFW.

18: we were just introduced at a party by our mutual friend and when my partner comes to join us, you freak out because you were just outside making out with them and you pull me aside to tell me

“Duck! Over here!” Aubrey waves him through the crowd, pointing to the lumberjack lookalike next to her, “this is the guy I was telling you about. Barclay’s an old friend of Dani's and, get this, he and Indrid know each other too. Wait, where is mr. mothman?” Aubrey cranes her neck.

“He had to work a late shift, but he says hi. Literally” He fumbles his phone, “fuck, sorry, first thing to go when I’ve been drinkin is my coordination.” He eventually triumphs, showing them the photo of Indrid, silver hair tied back and Void the Rat perched on the sleeve of his ‘Waffle House’ shirt. The sticker on the photo says “Hi!”

“Aww” Barclay’s voice is the epitome of gentle giant, “he always wanted a rat. I’m glad he got one.”

“Whelp, now that I got you two talking, I’m gonna go spend some ‘quality time’ with my girlfriend.”

“Just don't get caught makin’ out in a closet again.” Duck calls. Aubrey flips him off with a smile.

“So how did you and Indrid--oh, there you are babe. Thought you mighta snuck out to take a work call.”

“No, just had to de-escalate a shoving match on the back porch. I know you love Jake, but maybe next time we should just have him over rather than coming to the kind of party we outgrew in undergrad. I’m discovering I don’t enjoy being under the influence in this kind of cramped party anymore."

“Yeah, not really loving the noise. I lose my voice enough in the kitchen. Duck, this is my boyfriend, Joseph. Joseph, this is Duck, he’s a friend of Dani and Aubrey’s.”

Duck crunches his cup as his mind takes a violent spin an hour into the past.

He’d been out on the side deck getting some air and sipping his beer when a guy who looks like he walked in from the set of some splashy T.V show where everyone is hot joined him. His lips looked damn good whenever he sipped his beer and Duck did his best to turn on the southern charm. It was sort of working, until he complimented the guys button up; it was covered in drawings of cryptids--including mothman, Indrid’s favorite--and fit him in the way that made Duck want to rip the buttons off with his teeth. As soon as he demonstrated his enjoyment of listening to a hot guy talk about monsters, the taller man moved gradually closer, bumping shoulders and locking eyes with growing boldness. When Duck said the song booming out of the house was his go-to for putting the moves on someone, the other man asked to see his technique.

They spent the next three songs in the darkest corner of the porch, Duck’s back pressing into metal slats as his new friend wove his fingers into his hair and teased their tongues together with an experts touch.

When Duck breathlessly asked if he wanted to go somewhere more private, he murmured, “Only after we’ve had a chance to talk about some things.”

Then his phone buzzed and he was gone, leaving Duck horny and tipsy under the stars.

Back in the present, he does everything possible to keep from meeting Joseph’s eyes as he mumbles, “I, uh, I, I need some help with somethin in the kitchen? Fuck, yeah, kitchen, Barclay can you come help?”

“Sure. Be right back, babe.”

The kitchen is packed with people doing ill-advised things with drinks, so Duck keeps Barclay in the hall as he whispers, “Man, I, I’m so fuckin sorry but I gotta say somethin’. Joe and I, we, uh, we already met.”

“Makes sense, he’s been in town a year. I just got here.”

“That ain’t the kind of meetin I mean. We got a little, uh, friendly on the porch tonight.”

Barclay gives an “ah” of understanding. Then he chuckles, “thought he looked a little ruffled when he passed me earlier.”

“I’m real fuckin sorry, I didn’t know. ‘Drid and I got an, an agreement, but I shoulda checked to see if he was datin someone.”

“That would have been smart.” Joe appears at Barclay’s shoulder, “but that’s why I said we needed to talk before we did anything else.” He strokes Barclay’s beard, “you and Indrid aren’t the only ones with an open relationship of sorts.”

“Ohthankfuck.” Duck slumps against the wall.

“While I was making sure no one made a punch that could give them alcohol poisoning, you were getting hot and heavy? That’s not fair, babe.” Barclay teases.

“I’ll make it up to you, big guy. Are you safe to drive?”

“Gonna give it another half-hour, just to be safe. You need a ride home, Duck?”

“Uh, sure, that’d be great.”

Soon, he’s bundled in the back of a Subaru, Joe sitting beside him while Barclay navigates through Saturday night traffic. They luck out; the game ran long, so they’re not fighting the throng coming out of the football stadium. When they reach his apartment, Joe stops him and hands Duck his phone. Duck didn’t even feel him take it in the first place. As he waves goodnight, he spots a new number sitting in his contacts and smiles.

----------------------------------------------------------

“...the point is, it amuses me that Joseph shares my taste in me.” Indrid sips his white chocolate mocha, then yawns wide enough for Barclay to spot his tongue piercing, “apologies, I didn’t get to bed until three.”

“Jesus, man, gonna tell Duck to start knocking you out.”

“I was working on commissions.”

Barclay gives him a disbelieving look.

“....I was working on commissions until midnight. Then I spent three hours watching videos on the finer points of home entomology.”

“There it is. You can’t fool me, I remember what you were like at sleepovers.”

“It was very important to read every single Eyewitness book your parents generously bought you.” Indrid takes another sip with an imperious tilt of his head.

Barclay bumps his unoccupied hand, “It’s so fucking nice to see you again.”

Indrid looks at him over his glasses, brown eyes as beautiful as they were when he was sixteen, “Likewise. Oh!” He perks up, “do you know what this means? We can have a double-date! I’ve always wanted to try that.”

“Sure Joseph will be into it; he has a spreadsheet of optimal date locations. Bet he’ll have fun making one for double-dates.”

“That is...exceptionally geeky.”

Barclay sends a love-struck smile into his coffee cup, “Yeah, he is.”

-----------------------------------------------

Joe is more diabolical than Duck gave him credit for. And he thought he was pretty fucking cunning after he suggest seeing the local hockey team; the chilly arena gave Indrid and excuse to cuddle up to anyone who held still for too long and gave Joe plenty of opportunities to make double entendres about sticks in Duck’s ear.

But a night out at “Woofs” AKA the kind of gay bar where Duck and Barclay get hit on constantly is a whole new level of torment. Especially because Indrid hangs off Duck proudly (when he’s not teasing Barclay for the number of free drinks he’s getting) and Joseph even asks him to dance. When he peeks over the taller man’s shoulder, he sees Barclay resting his hand on Indrid’s arm while whispering something that makes him grin.

Dancing really is the most fitting thing he could be doing, because it’s what all four of them have chosen to do about this; dance around the fact that Indrid and Barclay dated, dance around the fact Joe and Duck kissed, danced around the fact that they’re more or less acting like a polycule already.

“Oh no.” Joe mutters, eyes on the door, “things are about to get loud.”

Duck’s about to point out that the club is already loud when he’s pulled out of the path of not one, but two bachelorette parties. They opt to stay, although Barclay gets hit on by someone who doesn’t believe he’s gay. Joe takes him onto the floor for a slow dance while Duck steps into the bathroom. When he comes out, his boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

“You guys seen ‘Drid?”

Joe shakes his head, all three of them already moving for the door. They find Indrid across the street on a bench, hunched over and tapping on his knees.

“‘Drid?” Duck sits gently beside him, “you get overwhelmed?”

Indrid nods.

“You wanna head home?”

Another nod. Duck suspects the overstimulation spiked without warning, which usually means…

“You need to be nonverbal for a bit?”

This time Indrid looks at him when he nods, then cringes when he sees Joe and Barclay are watching.

“Our place is closer.” Joe offers, copying Duck’s tone, “we can all bus back there so you can be somewhere quiet. Or, um, if you need it to just be you two, that’s fine too.”

Indrid holds up a finger, indicating option one. Duck helps him up and let’s him stay hidden against his shoulder while they wait for the bus.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

This used to terrify Barclay. He and Indrid would be hanging out, would be stealthily holding hands in the top row of the football stadium, and his boyfriend would shut down. Barclay, sensing distress, would try to figure out what was wrong, would start to panic when Indrid couldn’t communicate the things happening in his mind and body. They had more than one fight where his attempts to help only made Indrid more overstimulated to the point he snapped at him to fuck off (and, on one occasion, hissed at him).

They worked it out eventually, Barclay keeping a mental list of things that soothed his friend. Watching Duck do some of them, how calm and loving he was, makes something complex bloom in his chest, as vibrant and beautiful as the Dahlias Duck brought them from the garden (“weather’s been so fuckin weird things are bloomin when they shouldn’t”).

When they make it home, Duck stops in the living room and looks between Indrid and Barclay for a moment. Then he murmurs, “‘Drid, you want Barclay to keep you company for a bit?”

Indrid smiles and nods, takes Barclay’s hand and follows him to the bedroom. He lets his memories drive, keeps the light off, arranges his body so Indrid can relax against him, and pets his hair with slow, light motions. His friend hums, meaning he’s on the right track. As he strokes his head he notices the black roots peeking through the silver; it was jarring to see Indrid with pale hair when all his memories were of dark locks of it falling over his face or catching on Barclays hands.

He looks good with the silver. More like himself.

Metal pokes his chest. He takes the glasses Indrid hands him, sets them on Joseph’s stack of library books, then gives a startled, “nnfph” as his friend pulls Barclay on top of him.

“Like the weight” Indrid mumbles, wrapping his arms around him. The longer they lay there, the easier it is to overhear the conversation in the other room.

“I feel awful, if I’d known I’d have never recommended we go somewhere like a loud bar.”

“S’okay, Joe. ‘Drid is still a little wary of tellin people that’s something he has to consider when goin’ out; Dani and them get it, but other folks think he’s bein’ a buzzkill.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re tellin me. Besides, sometimes it comes up so fast, or happens in places he ain’t anticipatin it. He’ll be okay, especially with Barclay takin’ care of him.”

A pause, then, “Do you need someone to, um, take care of you?”

“Joe-”

“It’s alright if the answer is no. But part of my plan was to get everyone in a, um, bit of a frisky mood.”

A snicker, “Frisky?”

“I was trying not to be too crude.”

“Joe, you know how I feel about you. But we gotta check with the others to be sure everythin is on the level.”

“Tell them to come in.” Indrid whispers, a smile plain in his voice.

“Uh, babe? Could you and Duck come in here a sec?”

“Everythin oka--ffft” Duck snorts a laugh, “guess he improvised not havin a weighted blanket.”

“That I did.”

Duck bursts into a grin, hurrying to settle on the bed near Indrid’s head, “Hey, sugar. How you feelin’?”

“Much better. It helps that this one is very soothing.” He toys with Barclay’s hair, sending goosebumps up his arms, “though it seems he had a slighty different reaction to our contact.”

Barclay was so distracted by the conversation that he hadn’t realized his cock was hardening along the familiar warmth of Indrid’s thigh whenever one of them shifted.

“Fuck, Indrid, I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright. In fact, it is rather relevant to what you two were discussing in the hall. Am I correct that we all wish to be in some form of polyamorous relationship with each other?”

“Yes” say two voices along with his own.

“Wonderful. I suggest we hash out details later. Right now, it seems you two have, ah, unfinished business.”

“Fuckin finallyAH” Duck cackles as Joseph knocks him backwards, kissing him frantically while yanking up his shirt. As soon as his belly is exposed Joseph begins pawing and groping from there up his sides. Indrid nudges Barclay so they can sit up, allowing the other two more room to disrobe. Or, more accurately, for Joseph to disrobe both himself and Duck, since the shorter man is having trouble moving his limbs between bursts of laughter and moaning.

Joseph crawls backwards, shoving Duck’s legs apart and groping his thighs, “I’ve wanted to get my hands on these since the party. Lord almighty did you look good in those jeans.” He kisses his way up the left thigh, moaning and mouthing at the skin. His posture puts his perfect ass in the air, which happens to be one of Barclay’s favorite views in the whole world. He unzips his pants, fights to get his cock out as Indrid begins offering commentary from beside him.

“Mmmm, were I not still rather exhausted, I’d make him do that to us both.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t move his mouth from where it’s teasing Duck’s inner thigh.

“Know you would.” He reaches down to play with Joseph’s hair, “‘Drid’s got a whole fantasy where you blow him while I sit on his face.”

“Funny” Barclay’s voice is turning rough with desire,“he’s got one where he takes all three of us at once.”

Joseph’s face lacks any trace of self-consciousness, a rare thing for him, which means this whole arrangement is fucking brilliant. He simply nods, then takes Duck’s dick into his mouth.

“JEsus, fuck, Joe, ohfuckyeah.” Duck holds Joseph’s head encouragingly, “shoulda known you’d be good at this, you’re so fuckin good at everythin, fuck, fuck.”

Barclay grips his cock, trying to stroke in time with movements of Joseph’s head. Slender fingers carefully push his aside as Indrid purrs, “allow me.”

“You, you don’t have to, you said you were tired-”

“Not too tired for this” he strokes up more firmly, then brushes their lips together, “or this.”

It’s like tasting Hershey Chocolate or Marionberry Pie, transporting him back to their shitty hometown in Eastern Oregon, to summer heat on his skin and basement air in his nose as Indrid proved that yes, kissing boys was what he wanted to do.

Indrid’s certainly gotten better at it since then. Barclay likes to think he has, hopes the other man is feeling even half the things currently piling up in Barclay’s chest.

“Oh.” Indrid sighs as he pulls back, “that’s even better than I remember.”

A particularly loud moan from Joseph, underscored by Duck cursing happily, brings them back to the present.

Barclay moans as Indrid’s hand moves more deliberately.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?”

“Uh huh, c-couch, in that, fuck, that basement rec room at my house.”

“You came so fast.”

“Can’t really blame me.”

“Given the sounds he’s making, he might do the same thing now.” Joseph smiles at them from over Duck’s knee, “that’s one of the best things about you. You’re so sensitive, big guy.”

Barclay whines his name. His boyfriend winks, then dives back down to render Duck speechless.

“You really are” Indrid nips his ear, “remember when we, ah, lost it to each other?”

“Mmmhmm” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut as if that might make all this last longer. Joseph echoes the noise, making Duck groan.

“Just picture it, Joseph” Indrid is getting into it now, panting and pink-cheeked, “Barclay, eighteen and even shyer than he is now, in my lap, begging me to fuck him.”

‘I, I wasn’t the only one begging.” He grins.

“Of course not. I was desperate to get to it because just seeing you naked had me certain I was going to--one moment” he releases Barclay’s cock, ignoring his whimper to clamber into a position that allows him to kiss Duck as the shorter man grinds into Joseph’s mouth. He doesn’t pull back until Duck’s hips slow and Joseph is busy wiping his lips.

“I can never resist kissing you while you cum.”

“Fuck I love you.” Duck cups Indrid’s cheek. The silver haired man rubs against his palm a moment, then retreats. Duck growls at Joseph, “as for you, you got ten seconds to open your legs so I can show you a good time.”

“So thoughtful” Indrid pecks his cheek, returns to Barclay, “now, where was I…”

“Shy, AHshit, fuckingchristthat’s good.” Joseph’s legs sprawl open as Duck finger-fucks him, sitting on his side to kiss him without obstructing Barclay’s view.

“Ah yes.” He kisses Barclays neck, hand teasing the head of his cock, “you insisted on bottoming because you were so scared you might hurt me. I can still see it, you on your hands and knees, asking me to take you--those were your exact words--then whimpering when I finally got my cock in.”

“Fuck” Joseph is clearly enjoying the story; if Barclay had known he was into this, he would have made all his exes record voicemails describing their exploits.

“If memory serves I came very fast, because you were so much tighter than I expected and you, you felt so good. I used my hands to get you off-”

“Uh huh, fuck, you hadn’t pulled out yet and it was so fucking good, fuck, Indrid-”

“You made such cute noises when you came” a slow, deep kiss as heat floods him, “I wonder if you’ll do the same now.”

“Probably” is all he grunts out before he’s cumming hard enough that most of it hits Joseph’s stomach rather than Indrid’s fingers. His head lolls as his cock pulses, and beneath his own heartbeat he picks up Duck ordering Joseph to be good and cum for him. After a moment, there’s the distinct moan his boyfriend makes during his climax. It’s followed, confusingly, by weak laughter. His eyes flutter open to see Indrid licking his cum off Joseph’s chest, which happens to be ticklish.

He scoots over to join them, Joseph kissing him sleepily the instant he’s close enough.

“You sure you don’t need to cum, sugar?”

“I’m only half-hard, and I know I’m too tired to make it the rest of the way. Not that this wasn’t supremely satisfying. But you each owe me an orgasm sometime in the future.”

“All in favor of blowin ‘Drids mind tomorrow mornin’”

He and the other two raise their hands in sync. Then the four of them collapse, laughing, in each others arms.

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 7

Little bit of a filler, but we’ve got some fun shenanigans in store! >:)

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Chapter 7: Guys bein’ dudes indeed

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Marinette was up early again. She found herself some breakfast, then went to the stables. The Order had made it back late last night, so they didn’t have time to groom the horses. She entered the first stall and started to brush the first horse. The routine motion let her mind drift, and she thought back to the events of the past few weeks.

Marinette, Kagami, and Luka embarked on their daily ritual of collecting the morning paper from town. It was the day after they’d beaten the first boss, which they had reported anonymously. Marinette and Adrien had agreed that taking the credit would only serve to draw unwanted attention towards their group, which could put them and the rest of their friends in danger.

But it apparently had another unforeseen advantage. As Marinette paid for the newspaper that highlighted their victory, she heard comments from other players around her.

“Are you serious? Some party went rogue and beat the first dungeon on their own?”

“Selfish assholes, can’t believe they got all that loot to themselves.”

“Well I think it’s good that we’re making progress!”

“Yeah, if you ignore the fact that they didn’t tell us what it was like at all, so now we haven’t got a clue how to face the next one.”

She shook her head in disbelief and glanced at her companions, who looked similarly concerned. They hadn’t even considered that the other people might not want them to take up the battle alone. Or that last comment, that they were actually hurting the other players by not giving them the chance to fight too.

The three remained quiet until they returned to Chloe’s house, or the manor, as they’d taken to calling it. By then, Adrien and Chloe were awake, and followed without question as Marinette ushered the two to join her, Kagami, and Luka out by the well.

She told them what the people in town had said, Luka and Kagami jumping in with additional comments they’d heard from passersby, and they talked it over. Maybe it was worth fighting with other groups. It would certainly beat the first boss.

They decided to try working with others for the next dungeon, but to lead the battle so that the civilians would stay as safe as possible. There were already groups in town recruiting for it and people exploring the second level, so it couldn’t be too long before they found the next fight. They’d be ready this time, they thought.

Less than two weeks passed before they were ready to take on the second dungeon. The Order had spent the whole time training and leveling up. There was hardly a moment where they weren’t fighting monsters or sparring with each other. They became almost more adept with their new weapons than they were with their ones from the real world. Those days of miraculous encounters seemed a lifetime ago.

The Order made preparations with other groups of players, determining strategy and planning to play to each others’ strengths. All the parties assembled at the dungeon and set up to fight the boss.

All things considered, it could have gone much worse. The support teams kept all the fighters’ HP high, and they had whatever cover they needed whenever they needed it. The battle was significantly shorter with around forty players there. But when the other players got hit....

Marinette could still hear the screams of the civilians as they went down. The blood oozing from their wounds was so very lifelike, and there was no cure to sew them shut. Or bring them back if they fell.

Kagami and Adrien were focused on taking what would have been killing blows if the boss had struck anyone but them. Chloe and Marinette drew fire away from the other players, and Luka used his mace and shield to defend his fellow healers. But Marinette saw the pained look on his face at being separated from the rest. She relived the moment Kagami and Adrien went down while fighting the first boss in frequent nightmares, and she knew Luka did too. The two of them had shared a few too many late-night cups of tea while avoiding sleep.

They won the battle, but there were so many wounded, so many close calls. One look at her Order and she knew they felt as lost as she did. Was it worth it? The thought seemed to echo through each of their movements as they returned to the manor.

“Marinette?” Alya’s call shook her out of her daze. She looked down at her hands and saw that she’d finished brushing the last of the horses. Putting the brush away, she returned to the main space in the downstairs of their home.

Home. She supposed that’s what it was now, but it didn’t feel like it. The design of it was very cozy, there was no doubt about that. But she saw it as little more than a place to eat and sleep. There were far more important things she could be doing, sitting down to relax was out of the question.

“There you are,” Alya grinned from the kitchen. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in days!” She carried a simple charcuterie board into the living/dining area and placed it on the table. Nino, Adrien, Lila, Alix, Nathaniel, and Luka were already sitting in the various couches and chairs gathered around it.

“We were just about to have a snack and play some cards,” Alya said over her shoulder as she used a poker to encourage a small fire in the hearth. “You should join us, girl!”

Marinette’s gut response was to refuse, and she waved her hands and made excuses but Luka and Adrien got up and marched her over to sit next to them. “C’mon Buginette, you need this,” Adrien said quietly in her ear. Luka just gave her a meaningful look.

Over-protective mother hens.

She sighed and gave in. One afternoon of cards couldn’t hurt.

Nathaniel was on her other side. While Alya dealt out the cards, Marinette asked him, “How’s the garden coming along?”

His face lit up with a quiet joy. “It’s going great! I don’t know if the weather is going to change, but the onions are taking nicely!” She listened with a small smile on her face as he went on about the different crops he was planting in the garden. He’d really stepped up to grow the bulk of their food, and seemed to genuinely enjoy spending his days taking care of the plants.

She was glad that he could still talk freely to her, even in the game. They’d always been close and it was nice to see his artistic spirit was unbothered by... everything.

Adrien nudged her to play her turn, and she did so quickly. Across from her, Alix and Nino were laughing at something Lila had said, and Alya sat up proudly with a comment that made them laugh even harder.

On Adrien’s other side, Luka had his hands of cards facedown on his lap while he strummed a lute he’d bought the other day. The pleasant melody lifted her spirits and reminded her of happier times.

This is what she was fighting for, she realized. For Nathaniel to take pride in his art, for her dear friends to laugh, and for Luka to play his music. She blinked away the tears that rose in her eyes. This is what was worth fighting for.

Even if she couldn’t bring herself to sew, to create like she used to love doing. Here she just had to be Marinette the friend or Marinette the fighter. It was almost easier, having less to manage. And yet... she couldn’t feel that same joy for herself that she found so precious to her friends. Not until they were all home again. She couldn’t let herself.

* * *

Jason trudged into the base, pack digging into his shoulder with all the loot he’d recovered. He’d spent the past few days camping and level-grinding, which was apparently the correct term for it. He couldn’t even remember what Dick had said to set him off, but he needed to be on his own for a while. The woods were surprisingly peaceful, and he found the time spent by himself in nature to be refreshing.

“Hey.” Dick sounded pissed. The hell was his problem? Jason wasn’t even back long enough to do anything. Jason turned on his heel and raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Dick thrust a newspaper into his hands in response. He folded his arms, clearly expecting Jason to read it right then and there. Jason sighed loudly and slung his pack off. He turned his attention to the paper in his hand.

“Coalition of over forty players defeats second dungeon,” he read aloud. Shit.

“Just thought you should know,” Dick said in his I told you so voice. “When you went on your little adventure, you missed the next boss fight.”

Oh, now he remembered why he left! Because his “brother” is an asshole. “My little adventure was to get experience and level up,” he glared at Dick. “Which is still doing something more productive than just sitting on my fuckin’ hands.”

Dick’s nostrils flared. Good, he was itching for this conversation. “We are not doing nothing. We need more time to practice with the gameplay. Hell, Gar still tries to shift when we spar!” He threw up his hands in frustration. “We’re nowhere near ready yet, Jay.”

“You know, there’s more to this game than fuckin’ sparring.” Jason retorted.

Dicks brows shot up. “Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who so desperately wants to get back to our lives that he runs off on his own.”

“I can’t stand being cooped up in this damn house all the time! Just because we’re stuck in this game doesn’t mean we have to stop living,” Jason shook his head. “We’ve already been in here for over a month, who’s to say how much longer it’ll be? We can’t just put our fuckin’ lives on hold the whole time.”

“Training to beat the game isn’t putting our lives on hold,” Dick rolled his eyes. “This place is a death trap in case you forgot. We need to train to get our lives back.”

This idiot just didn’t get it. “Oh sure, and in the meantime we can’t have any happiness or fun. Sounds pretty miserable to me.” He picked up his pack. “You can level up without training at all hours of the fuckin’ day, no matter what a certain black-haired, blue-eyed bastard says.”

Jason stormed out the door, bumping into Garfield on his way back outside. The kid stumbled backwards before pointing finger guns at him. “Nice alliteration!”

He ignored him and kept walking down the path that led into town.

“Hey, hey wait a minute!” Seriously kid? He heard that argument with Dick but still couldn’t take the fuckin’ hint.

Garfield caught up to him and said, “You know, for someone who was supposed to have a relaxing vacation, you sure look tense.”

“Fuckin’ excuse me?” Jason growled.

“Wh-what I mean is you’re probably looking for a way to burn off some steam!”

This was getting old. “Get to the point, kid.”

“On the third level, there’s a quest we can do to make our own guild!” Garfield bounced excitedly, keeping pace next to him. Well, a quest would certainly help get this new brotherly stress out of his system. “We want you to join us, pleeeeaaaase?”

“Hold up, who the hell is us?”

Garfield grinned at him. “Oh you know, just a couple of the guys.”

They’d reached a junction in the path that led to the main road. Waiting beneath the tree beside the signpost were Roy, Jaime, and Bart. The ex-speedster waved excitedly while Roy looked about as pleased to be here as Jason did. They got along swimmingly.

“Hey dudes, everyone cool if Jason joins us?” Garfield reached out to pat his back then hesitated as he thought better of it.

Jaime shrugged while Bart gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. Roy gave him a pitying look, like he’d been dragged into it too.

“Fine.” Jason muttered to no one in particular. “Are we heading out now?”

The other four got their things together. Jaime sent out party invites to everyone to better keep track of each other, which Roy and Jason reluctantly accepted. Garfield pulled up a pamphlet and started leafing through it. Jason spied the title, The Good Adventurer’s Guide to Guilds. Lovely.

“Alright,” Garfield snapped the papers shut and started walking down the path into town. “Let’s go to level three and get this bread!”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “The quest is to retrieve some bread?” He asked incredulously.

“Well, no but yes! But no. Man, we gotta teach you slang,” Bart slung an arm around Roy’s shoulders. The latter pushed him off and Jaime sped up his pace to plant himself as a buffer in between them as they walked.

Dumbasses.

The walk into town was easy, and they used the teleportation kiosk in the town square to get to the third level without a hitch.

The third level had some more interesting terrain than the plains of the first and second levels. Cliffs and quarries dotted the landscape in front of them. The main town itself was built onto a cliff, a gaping valley splayed out before them with minute details.

“Oh wow,” Garfield said. “This reminds me of that one town in France where--”

“Don’t care. Let’s move.” Roy cut him off and stalked down the winding road that would take them down into the valley. Jason smirked and followed suit.

Garfield made a face, then followed them along with the others. He pulled out his pamphlet again, then pointed them in the direction of the quest. Some quarry worker NPC wanted help collecting materials. If they got him everything on his list, he would apparently grant them the rights to start a guild? It made less and less sense as Gar read aloud from the paper.

They trekked on for a few hours, easily hacking apart the common monsters they came across. Between Jason and Roy, the others hardly had time to draw their weapons before the threats were gone.

“What’s better than this?” Garfield put an arm around Jason and Bart’s shoulders. Jaime grinned and put his arms around Bart and Roy. “Guys bein’ dudes!” He finished.

Roy, Bart, and Jason exchanged mystified glances. Roy and Jason had been out of the loop for roughly the same period of time, and Bart had told them before that not much of contemporary pop culture had survived into his future.

Guys bein’ dudes indeed.

Between the five of them, gathering the listed materials and getting them to the worker by sundown was easy. Well, it was easy for most of them.

“You look like a mess, ese!” Jaime exclaimed, seeing a very sticky and scratched-up Garfield. He groaned and replied, “Had to get tree sap. Trees fought back....”

Well, that served the little shrimp right, Jason thought to himself. He and Roy had been collecting gemstones, which could be mined out from the caves littered throughout the floor... or the infinitely more fun way of killing giant gemstone monsters. Take a wild fuckin’ guess which one they chose.

Jason was actually pretty content with the levels he’d gained from the quest. Not to mention getting his excess anger out from talking to Dick. It seemed like whenever he went to the house, there was always some type of disagreement between the two.

Damn. Maybe he should start saving for his own house.

His party currently stood in line at the guild registration office, also located on the third level. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the valley, highlighting the small clusters of houses dotting the countryside.

“Oh crap,” Garfield suddenly said. He danced nervously on his feet. “We did the whole quest, but I forgot the most important thing!”

Roy looked at him sharply. “What’s wrong?”

“We need a name for our guild!” Garfield wailed, clutching his hands to his head.

Seriously? Roy scoffed, “Why not just Justice League?”

Jaime rounded on him. “Are you nuts, ese? We can’t go around calling ourselves the Justice League. Secret identities and all that.”

Garfield paced in line, clearly thinking hard. “Hmm, justice. Juuuuustice. Just-ice. Just ice! Hey, we could do something with that!” He exclaimed.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah that’s great,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “How about On the Rocks.”

Bart put a hand on his chin, looking thoughtful. “Well, we should add a little pizzazz to it, don’t you think?”

“I’ve got it! Rocky Road!” Garfield threw his hands in the air triumphantly. God this kid was excessive.

Jaime and Bart, after the former had explained it to him, voiced their approval. Roy and Jason looked at each other and silently commiserated over their unfortunate situation.

Rocky Road it was.

* * *

“Ugh, that was way harder than it needed to be.” Alya slumped over her battle axe.

Marinette giggled and offered her friend some water. “Well, a ton of other people are starting guilds too! So I guess there are limited resources for a while.”

Nino took the water from Alya after she’d finished with it. He drained it and looked heartbroken until Adrien handed him a new bottle.

The four of them had decided to team up and do the quest to establish a guild. Not everyone in the guild needed to attend the quest to establish one. So when Alya and Nino had approached Marinette and Adrien, asking if the original friend group could be the ones to do it, they couldn’t say no.

“Well, I just wish Marinette had told us about the quest sooner. Then we could have had an easier time!” Lila simpered, sweet as ever. Oh yeah, Lila had invited herself to come along too.

“Weren’t you also a beta tester?” Adrien frowned innocently.

Lila blinked, looking startled. “Oh yes! But you know about my memory issues. I really wish I could remember all these things to help us out,” she sighed dramatically. Typical.

“So!” Marinette decided to move that conversation right along. “We need a name for our guild. Got any ideas?”

Nino rubbed his arm. “Actually dudes, I’ve been thinking of a name for a while.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it!” Adrien smiled and nudged his best friend’s arm.

“Well, I was thinking we could be called Miracle Workers,” Nino began. Marinette traded a look of alarm with Adrien. “You know, because Alya and I used to be miraculous holders? And I thought it’d be kinda nice to honor Chat Noir, Ladybug, and the other heroes. We could use some of their strength right about now.” Oh, that was actually really sweet of him. Marinette offered Adrien a soft smile.

Alya looked at him fondly. Adrien, with a slight nod of approval from Marinette, gave him a side hug and said, “I think that’s a wonderful name.”

Lila tapped her chin. “I don’t know, workers seems a little odd to me. We’re more like leaders or executives.”

“Well, I think Miracle Workers is perfect, babe.” Alya leaned in to peck Nino on the cheek. “Let’s go with that.”

First | Previous | Next

[bisexual-horror-fan]

December 31st. New Year Sex. “Sugar To Ring In The New Year.” Stu Macher X AFAB Reader.

AYYYYYYY! 

Well here we are! The very last day of Kinky December! A huge, massive, endless amount of thanks to @horrorslashergirl​! This event was so unbeleiveably fun for me! Writing for new characters and old, well worn familar kinks and some different ones, I am so proud of myself for commiting to and doing the whole event (17 enteries! More than I initially planned!) and not being late a single day! I said “Oh it’ll be mostly drabbles” at the start but every single entry ended up being over 1k! Go me!

So we needed something BIG to finish out the event, it’s New Years afterall. Now I put a kink in here I have never publically posted (mostly because I don’t have this one personally but it fit too damn well and it can be very fun to write about so fuck it!)

But what IS it Bex?

You can thank the lovely @mostfandomstrashcan​ for the inspo. She made this post the other day-

-and I mean I HAD already planned to do Stu and give him his own solo peice since I did one for Billy and it was only fair. I mean “ape-shit”?! Lalila. How could I ever ignore THAT? I hope you all enjoy this, I spent a lotta time on it! I also may do something else with this in the future. (And of course Billy is mentioned in this because duh.) So let’s all indulge eh? Mathew Lilliard still be looking damn good, so why not? Older Sugar Daddy Stu Macher AU LET’S FUCKIN’ GO!

---

Rating. Explicit. Length. 4.2K  Warnings. Established Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. Age Gap. Public Sex. Dirty Talk. Sex Toys. General Daddy Kink. Remote Control Vibrator. Pet Names. Praise. Dirty Talk. Mild Tempature Play. Mentions Of Kidnapping, Knifeplay, Bloodplay, Ropeplay and Poly!Ghostface. We Respect Sex Workers Of All Kinds In This House. If You Don’t? Get Out.

--

Sugar To Ring In The New Year.

---

You had spent such a long time getting ready for tonight.

But it was so very worth it. Rather, HE was so very worth it. 

You looked yourself over in the full length mirror. You looked fucking incredible. You turned slowly, admiring yourself, he had picked your outfit for tonight, paid for it himself and whatever else you needed. He told you money was no object and it certainly never seemed to be with him. 

See it was New Years eve and you had a party to attend. A very nice party, probably nicer than any you had ever been to. 

A ding from your phone, you picked it up off the nearby table. He was here. You shrugged on your coat and gave yourself one last look before grabbing your bag and heading out the door. Door locked and now in the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor with a manicured finger. Humming lightly to yourself, looking your nails over as you descended. 

To say you were excited was an understatement. You loved getting to see him and the holidays were crazy with his line of work, you didn’t see him nearly as much as you’d have liked this past month. Soon the elevator doors slid open and out you stepped, heels clacking over the polished tiles of the lobby of the apartment building you lived in. 

You stepped out into the cold evening air of downtown, smile crossing your painted lips to see him waiting for you, leaning against the towncar hands in his coat pockets, grin widening when he saw you. 

“Hey.”

You called to him with a coy smile, he held a hand up signaling you to stop, you did, a few feet in front of him, he signalled you to turn to show him the whole look and you of course obliged. Hands in your jacket pockets, holding your coat open as you did so, letting him drink in the sight of you, a low whistle as he did so. When you were sure he was satisfied you closed the space between the two of you, hands out of your pockets now, reaching out and taking hold of the scarf he had on, hanging loosely over his jacket. 

“I reiterate. Hey.”

He held up one finger signaling you to wait as he said-

“Hang on just a second-”

One of his hands coming up and finding the back of your neck and he pulled you closer to him, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss, you gripped his scarf and tugged him closer, a soft hum from you. He broke the kiss and still so close to you he said softly,

“Hey.”

That drew a small laugh from both of you and then you let go of him, taking a step back and he opened the door for you and you teased him,

“Was that really necessary?”

“Yes. It was important.”

His hands gripping the top of the car door, he said it in such a serious tone it drew another laugh from you and a wide grin from him. 

Adorable.

You leaned over the door separating the two of you and pressed another kiss to his mouth before getting into the car. Soon he was beside you and you were off. Your hand in his and talking casually, catching up, it had been too long. 

You were recounting something funny that happened the other day at a gift exchange with friends when you caught him staring at you and you stopped, asking in that usual playful tone when you were with him,

“What? Something off with my make-up?”

“No, no, far from it. You look amazing tonight.”

Well that was so damn nice to hear, you certainly hoped so. He picked it all out afterall. You thanked him of course. And the drive passed by quickly. Soon you were being ushered inside, coats checked, and walking into the main room with him, his hand on your lower back as he led you to your table. 

“Oh we get a table?”

You joked and he pulled your chair out with a scoff,

“Of course we do, baby. Look at who you're with."

The over exaggerated gesture to himself when he said that made you snicker. Of course, how foolish, of course you get to have an actual table. He took his place next to you and had ordered you drinks in the next minute. You really enjoyed these dates out to events like this pertaining to his work, he was so in his element, different than how he was when he was totally alone with you. Conversation always flowed so easily with him and you enjoyed yourself immensely.

Drinks were brought and he held his glass up to you, that same smile you loved so much, you held up yours as well as you asked,

“And what are we toasting to?”

“Hmm how about to me having the absolute finest date here?”

How could you say no to that? You smirked as you offered up,

“So it’s to both of us really.”

“Exactly! Always so smart y/n. To us.”

Glasses clinked and you were still mid-sip when he asked it,

“So are you wearing it?”

You glanced to him, he was looking at you, pose relaxed, one elbow on the table, glass held loosely in his hand, fuck he looked good. 

See we should talk about the nature of your relationship with Stu Macher. It might be obvious to someone else looking at you two. He was significantly older than you, professional, established, very well to do. And you were the pretty young thing, always dressed to impress and on his arm for all of the events you were allowed to attend. 

The nature of your relationship was very clear, it started off a bit more business like but it quickly evolved into more than JUST that. 

“Why Mr.Macher! I have no idea to what you are referring.”

You couldn’t hold back your smile, leaning forward on your elbows, fingers laced together and tucked under your chin, a faux innocent batting of your eyelashes and he gave you a look. 

“Baby.”

That delicious tone. More serious. You gave in with a wider smile and said,

“Yes I am.”

“Good. If you didn’t admit it I was going to have to test it already.”

Your thighs pressed together under the table, you knew he was going to use it at some point, there would be no reason for you to wear it if he had no intention of using it. 

Some coworker of his came over and took some of his and took his attention, you sat next to him, patiently waiting, you were very used to this. It was more appropriate to say colleague you supposed but ultimately it didn’t matter. Fingers on the rim of your glass as you look around the well decorated room and the well dressed people. You contemplated getting some food in a minute, surprisingly hungry, but your thoughts were interrupted, a hitch in your breath as you felt it.

Your eyes flicking to Stu, you saw it, he had his phone pulled out, semi-hidden under the table, next to his thigh, you were sure he knew you could see it. He was still looking up to his co-worker, engaged in their conversation, but you saw the open app on his phone and there was no mistaking it.

In case it wasn’t obvious enough by this point. Stu Macher was your sugar Daddy. And he had some particular tastes. Taste and appetites that you helped him satisfy. That is how your arrangement initially began but it had grown into more, you were much closer but he still insisted on spoiling you, buying you things, paying for your rent and giving you an allowance. He seemingly got off on providing for you and who doesn’t love to be spoiled by someone so attentive? You weren’t going to say no. It would be cruel to deny him that frankly. 

To be perfectly fair if you had met him in some other circumstances you were certain you would have pursued him. He was nice and sweet, so fucking handsome, funny, there was so much more to him than what he could provide financially. 

Things were so good.

So what about tonight? And what was going on right now? Stu loved getting up to all kinds of filthy things with you. One of his favorites was doing things in public spaces with the risk of getting caught. He had sent the bags over earlier with your outfit for tonight. Along with the dress and make-up and accessories and shoes, he provided the lingerie for you to wear under your dress and the panties were very important. You recalled that text he sent you that afternoon and the instructions. You followed them to the letter. The panties had this perfect little pocket in them to slip in a remote control vibe. The one he was controlling on the app on his phone right now. While you were less than two feet from his coworker. 

You swallowed hard and gripped your glass, attempting to breath evenly, managing to quell the moan attempting to break free. He didn’t make it easy. Your eyes peaked at his phone and watched as he manipulated the controls with one hand, increasing and decreasing the vibration. You were thankful for the loud overall party atmosphere covering up the sound of it. 

A bite of your bottom lip, eyes breaking away, focusing on the table in front of you, trying to take deep breaths and mercifully it stopped. You let out a sigh and looked over to Stu who was looking at you with a grin, his coworker gone His hand fell to your knee and he squeezed as he praised, 

“Good job. You didn’t give yourself away at all.”

“Thank you.”

You took a sip and felt a bit of pride, until he said,

“Guess I’ll just have to try harder.”

Fuck.

You sighed again and took a healthy swallow from your glass.

Really by now you should be used to this. You had prepared yourself for the fact he’d want to use it in public because I mean of course he would, however you should have also been ready for the fact that he would make it as difficult as possible on you. 

That reminded you to ask.

“So where’s Billy tonight?”

He squeezed your knee again before letting go and picking up his glass again as he responded,

“A different party. Shame he couldn’t come but he had his own thing and I could only bring one guest with me.”

Makes sense. They were in different lines of work after all. It had been a while since you last got to see him. See that was another interesting angle to this arrangement. So you had met Stu with the understanding of your arrangement, the initial process went great, you seemed compatible. Multiple dates, he paid for all and spoiled you and of fucking course the sex was incredible. A little ways into it you remembered him sitting you down and bringing forth the idea of it, that he had a friend, his best friend, they were very close, he loved to share and wanted to share you with him. 

You were open to it and met him and were so thankful that you did. He was equally attractive, a good job, not exactly as high profile as Stu’s but he seemed more than comfortable. One of the things you liked best was how Stu acted around him, more relaxed, you found out they went way, way back and seeing the other side of Stu? Amazing. Made you like him a lot more, might have made you fall for him a little sooner. 

Turns out sex with Billy was pretty fucking great too. You remember the first full weekend away with them to really test the dynamic and it was unreasonably fun. Hot, boundary pushing. They had to be sure about you before trying out what they really wanted. A rented house and a complex role play. It was all discussed beforehand, limits, safe words, signals, the whole nine. You pretend to stay there alone. A phone call, they ‘break in’, there was costumes and ropes and knives and fucking Christ why did you LIKE it so much? 

The memories of that weekend were some of your favorites.

It couldn’t have gone better and yep they wanted to ‘keep you’ and you wanted that too more than anything. Basically the whole time you saw Stu you only saw him. Not like you needed to see anyone else, he more than took care of your monetary needs, emotional and sexual needs being satisfied by him were a give in. Now add Billy as a regular guest in your life and you were fucking set. 

You smiled as you teased him, keeping it light as ever, you were sure with whatever he had in mind the mood wouldn’t stay that way forever,

“And you decided to bring me? I’m so flattered.”

He scoffed with a smile, obviously he was going to bring you, he felt no need to say it though so instead he said,

“Finish your drink.”

“That an order, Stu?”

You asked as you picked up your glass and as you started to drink, eyes falling closed as you did and what happened next almost made you choke, while you were distracted for that moment he turned the vibe back on. His phone was out on the table and he had flicked it back on easily. You managed to swallow your mouthful and threw a look to him, he had finished his own drink now, staring you down. You wanted to ask ‘what the fuck?’ but he spoke first,

“Why are you calling me that?”

You watched as his fingers lingered on his phone screen, turning it up slowly and you swallowed your moan, one of your hands was gripping the cloth napkin in front of your place setting. You forced yourself to respond,

“Because we are in public. At a work event. It’s yo-o-our rule.”

You almost broke but managed to hold strong even as he nudged it higher still, fuck you almost wanted to shake, pleasure simmering low inside of you. 

“Hmm it’s a special occasion. Indulge me.”

He was leaning much closer to you, face inches from yours, you wanted to kiss him, a bite of your bottom lip and you whispered it, low enough just for him to hear, indulging him just as he wanted,

“Of course, Daddy.”

You actually pulsed when you said it. Not just because of him still having the toy turned up but from breaking this previous hard and fast rule of his, saying this in public at a work event. That smile alone made it worth it. The kiss he gave you afterwards, forget about it. 

The rest of the night was too fun. 

More drinks, amazing food and he kept teasing you on and off. 

The range on that thing was unreal. 

At one point you were coming back from the bathroom, and once you were in his line of sigh he turned it on and watched you almost stumble on your way back to the table. He was still laughing a little when you hit him playfully on the shoulder and mouthed ‘stop!’ he of course, did not. 

Picking the worst times, when you were in the middle of eating or drinking, at one point when you were dancing. You thanked God he was right there, it went from fully off to full tilt and you would have dropped were it not for him holding you up. 

Eventually you ran into a friend you knew from sugaring. Both you and her standing near the table, casual conversation, it was nice, you hadn’t seen her in a while,

“So you here with-?”

Unlike you having just Stu she had a few regulars in rotation, you offered it up, question open ended and she rolled her eyes,

“Dickhead. I mean-”

Covering her mouth with her hand with a laugh that you joined in on before both saying,

“Dickinson.”

She had told you about him. While he paid great money he kinda sucked. 

“Why’d you agree? I know you have other options, why spend New Years with that-”

And you were so caught off guard. Not expecting it at all, you nearly dropped your drink and couldn’t stifle the moan this time, you managed to quiet it but not completely. You took a deep breath and looked around, trying to find where he was, nowhere in sight, your friend reached out, hand on your shoulder,

“Jesus, you good? What’s wrong?”

You swallowed hard and looked over to her, trying to keep your breathing steady,

“Fuck it. So-”

And you filled her in, telling her all about what was going on and the naughty secret you had currently concealed in your panties and the game he was playing with you. 

“Ugh see you are so lucky! He’s so good to you, so playful, he always has fun shit for you two to do together.”

It was fun. Even as you were struggling standing here, he never settled on one pattern or strength for long, constantly mixing it up, not letting you adjust at any point. You understood her jealousy, I mean if you didn’t have him and had to watch someone else parade around with him you were certain that you could feel similar. 

Finally the pleasure ceased as the toy turned off, you were so wet by this point you could feel it on your thighs, thank God for the length of the dress he chose. 

You looked to your friend who seemed to be looking behind you, big smile, you felt him before seeing him, his hand on your lower back, he knew your friend obviously and greeted her,

“Hello. Keeping her company for me?”

“Of course Mr.Macher. Great suit tonight by the way.”

You didn’t mind if your friend flirted with him and you kind of like when he would flirt back, he didn’t do it super overtly but he did compliment her in kind, she looked great herself, before he asked,

“Thank you so much, do mind if I steal her?”

“By all means. See you later.”

And then he was leading you away. Away from the party and down one of the hallways lined with office doors, not fully lit up since no one was working. Hand in hand as he asked,

“I’ve never actually showed you my office, have I?”

Surprisingly he had not. You shook your head and he stopped in front of one of the doors before pushing it open,

“A damn shame truly. C’mon.”

You jumped at the chance. You knew how to behave at one of these events but you were desperate by this point. Aching with need. You wanted him so much, he was too good at arousing you. The light touches and teasing, the things he whispered to you tonight when no one was in earshot, and of course using that damn vibe on you. 

You would have been more impressed with his office if you weren’t so preoccupied. You walked around slowly, you had your mind on one thing, that big beautiful desk. You were certain you were going to get bent over the side of it and thrown down on top of it. You turned to see where he was and he was on you, hands on your waist and you were backed up into that desk, sat on top of it. Far enough away from the party you allowed yourself to let go, moaning against his mouth. 

“You did so good in there, baby.”

“Mmf thank you.”

You had your hands gripping the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him closer, his hands on either side of you on the top of his desk, you couldn’t help yourself now that you had him alone, kissing him so passionately. 

He pulled away too soon and took a step back, discarding his jacket, throwing it over the desk, rolling his sleeves up as he said, 

“Pull that dress up. Let me see.”

You obliged all too quickly. Jesus he looked so good. Hands scrambling to pull your dress up, hands in the folds of the fabric, hiking it up your legs, eventually hands on the hem you held it up, legs spread.  One of his hands on your inner thighs as he looked,

“Fuck, baby. You’re soaked.”

A nod, hips pushing out a little further, wanting his hand higher, wishing he would touch you. His fingers brushed over you and your head fell back with a moan,

“Need it bad, hmm?”

You responded quickly, breathy,

“Ye-yes Daddy Please?”

Then both of his hands were on you, hauling you up onto your heels. 

“Keep holding your dress for me, baby.”

You could only nod and you expected to be forced over the desk but no, that’d be too easy, instead you were pulled over to the window. He was right behind you, he took your hands and pressed them flat to the glass and whispered in your ear,

“Nice view, isn’t it?”

You looked out the window and it certainly was. Downtown, late at night, high up, what floor was this? You wondered what he was getting up to, hands on the straps of your dress, sliding them down off your shoulders, what he wanted was made clear and your breath hitched as he said it,

“Think anyone could see us up here?”

He noticed how it affected your breathing, his mouth ghosted over the side of your throat, and he chuckled before saying, 

“Oh I think you like that idea.”

Hands trailed down your arms and sides and then his fingers found your panties and slid them down, you let them pool at your feet and he encouraged you to step out of them, he kicked them aside. One hand sliding down your stomach, your hands twisting in the fabric of your skirt and soon his hand was between your thighs, strong fingers dragging through your folds and you moaned. 

“Do you want something to see you like this?”

His fingers circled your clit and his opposite hand tugged down your dress further, bunched around your waist, straps still on, holding your arms to your sides, hands still on the glass. You were sure you were fogging up the glass but who fucking cares when he makes you feel like this.

“Well since you indulged me earlier than allow me to do the same.”

And then he pressed you forward, you almost yelped, it was winter, the glass was freezing, he let out a small laugh from your reaction, 

“Cold?”

“Very! Fuck-”

You pushed and tried to back up but he kept you pressed there, he tsk’d before saying,

“Now, now baby. If you want it-”

He rubbed your clit harder and you squirmed against him,

“-and I think you do. Then you are going to stay right here. Understood?”

You relented and he eased off, only to dispose of his pants, you listened to the jingle of his belt and soon he was back on you. One hand on your shoulder and one hand under your thigh, adjusting your leg just so and soon you were blessed with the feeling of him splitting you open. The stretch was wonderful and you moaned long and low forehead pressed to the glass. He only held in you for a moment before he began moving, and it practically already had you panting. 

“Filthy. This how you like to celebrate? Getting fucked out in the open? Praying someone sees you?”

All you could do was moan out yes, over and over in time with how he fucked you. The thought, how he spoke to you and of course again, how fucking wonderful it felt. 

“I loved watching you struggle. Trying to act normal and proper, you did so fucking good for me baby. So proud of you.”

This is the best. Treating you like this, taking you like this, so open and rough and possessive while still lavishing praise over you. Pushing back onto him, completely lost in it, hardly registering what he was saying but you caught bits and pieces, like this next part-

“I’ll try not to mess you up too bad. No promises though. Still have to go back out there-”

And that is what did you in. The thought of having to go back out there. Acting normal, like you didn’t just get fucked against his office window like a whore, trying to look and act every part of the prim little arm candy his office had gotten to know while his cum leaked down your thighs under your dress. That is the thought that finally made you cum, thankful he had you pinned to the window or you would be on the floor. Breathing so hard on your come down, he paused, buried all the way inside, a harsh grind as he whispered in your ear,

“Happy New Years Baby.”

You couldn’t hold back your laugh as you replied, still breathless,

“Happy New Years Daddy.”

What a way to ring in the New Year.

[all1e23]

Between the Stars [Pt. 2]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x  Reader

Summary:  Struggling with the death of your husband, you find comfort in someone unexpected.

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death

A/N:  This chapter is strictly Bucky’s POV. If you haven’t figured it out yet each chapter is another month since Steve has been gone. It’s a heavy chapter but the whole series is heavy. No beta and it was lightly edited because I was lazy. As always for this series, flashback are italicized. If you like it write a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

“We’ve got two months left. You gonna tell him before we get home or just let him find out after you're gone and really mess with his head?” 

Bucky huffed at the sarcastic tone coloring Sam’s snark. At least Bucky didn’t have to guess what his opinion on the whole situation was. Sam was shouting it loud and clear. Bucky didn’t have much choice regardless of what Sam thought. He let this all go on far too long, and if he didn’t do something, this whole mess would come unraveled and hurt everyone involved. Bucky could deal with the hurt he put on his own heart, but he wouldn’t hurt Steve or Y/n.

This was the only option because Bucky simply couldn’t take it anymore. 

The zipper on Bucky’s rucksack snagged along the way, and Bucky cursed under his breath as the metal teeth stuck leaving the bag half-zipped. He yanked the sides open as best he could and aggressively shoved clean socks, underwear, and shirts into his pack. Thankfully, it wasn’t cold at the moment, so the weight on his back wouldn't be extensive this time around, and according to Steve, it was a short mission. In and out, gather some intel and back in time to lay low until it was time to catch a bird home. 

Going home was the problem, though. 

Bucky could navigate this life. He could handle being a soldier and all that came with it, but being back in the ‘real world’ complicated things, and Bucky had trouble figuring out how to…  exist without bullets flying by his head.

“What do you think is going to happen when you tell him? You’re like his brother, man. He deserves to know that you’re leaving town and the reasons why.” 

Bucky sighed and tossed his ammo pouch down next to his water. Sam and Bucky didn’t always see things eye to eye. It was a bit of give and take, tug of war between the two of them. It usually came down to what things they were willing to say and what they weren’t. Sam liked to talk things through, whereas Bucky would rather let some things die the way they are meant to -- so Bucky said. No need to kick up a fuss when it only ends in three broken hearts with no good reason for it.

“No,” Bucky grunted. “I’m not going to tell Steve, my best friend as you like to remind me repeatedly, that I am in love with his wife and I have to leave because I can’t stand to see them together a second fuckin’ longer. There ain’t no point. Only gonna hurt him and Y/n. It’s easier if I just go.” 

“Easier for who? You didn’t do anything wrong, man. You’ve been in love with her--” 

“Hey!” Steve shouted across tiny space and grinned at the two men sharing whispers. “You boys ready to go? The quicker we get this done, the faster I get to talk to my wife.” 

Bucky watched as Steve tucked a black scarf around his neck, hiding it under his BDU’s and it made Bucky’s stomach twist with something sharp and painful. It was Y/n’s scarf. Bucky knew that. He would recognize it anywhere. Y/n gave Steve one before every tour, and Steve clung to it -- Steve’s good luck charm. Just the sight of the damn thing made Bucky ache. He hated all of this, how he felt. Bucky loathed what he was doing to the two most important people in his life. As much as he wanted to stop, he couldn't. He tried. He tried over and over again. So when Steve mentioned starting a family when they all got back to civilian life, Bucky knew it was time he moved on. 

It wasn’t because he was doing some noble act by allowing the two of them to have a life and family without him interfering. It was purely for him. It was for selfish reasons, and Bucky wasn’t trying to spin it any other way. He had to leave because he couldn’t stand by and watch. 

“It’s easier for everyone. I’ll tell him I’m leaving, but the reason stays between you and me.” 

“Bucky…” 

“Swear on it, Sam. I need to know this doesn’t go past us.” 

Sam sighed but nodded his head. 

“Yeah, okay. It stays between us.”

Sam had been right it turned out.

Bucky should have told Steve the whole truth that day. He deserved to know who Bucky was and what secrets he was hiding from him. Especially after everything they’ve been through. After he asked Bucky to… Bucky shook his head and stared down at the photo in his hand, fifteen years changes a few things. Time adds a bit of wrinkles, a little grey, and maybe a little extra weight, too. Bucky ran his thumb over the photo and shook his head. It all seemed like a lifetime ago. Steve stood next to Bucky, a shy smile on his clean-shaven face and blonde bangs flopped in his eyes. Wasn’t much different from pictures they took not that long ago if he was being honest, only Y/n was on Bucky’s other side, perched on the deck railing and her chin resting on his shoulder. 

He should have been upfront and told Steve what a coward he had for a best friend, and now it was too late to make confessions. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

Bucky looked up over the toe of his boots to find Natasha standing at the foot of his cot, arms crossed and brow arched in the way that said she was disappointed with him. There was a lot to be disappointed by at the moment, so Bucky was unsure what defense he should start with. He tossed the picture on the rickety table next to him and folded his arms behind his head, he was going to play dumb. That was his best chance at getting out of this unscathed. 

“What--” 

“Don’t give that bullshit.”

Okay, that wasn’t going to work. Clearly 

“Have you called Y/n yet? We are set to be airborne in thirty-nine hours, and it’s been two months since the mission. You need to talk to her.” 

That was how Steve was being talked about now. Natasha has refused to say anything else since Steve died. She has called it “the mission” from the moment they came back bloody, broken, and missing a brother.  It had been hard on everyone, but Steve was one of the few people Natasha trusted without a doubt, and she took his loss hard. On the day of Steve’s funeral, Natasha didn’t speak to anyone but somehow ended up with a bottle of scotch and three paper cups. Bucky didn’t ask how she got it. Clint wasn’t about to question the first bit of booze he had seen in over a year. Knowing Natasha Bucky didn’t want to know where it came from and as her superior officer, it was better that he didn’t. 

Not that any of them owed The Army anything anymore. As far as Bucky was concerned, he paid his dues when he watched his best friend bleed out in his arms while he begged Bucky to take care of his wife. 

“I haven’t called her,” Bucky admitted, guilt showing through the tough facade he was putting on. He hadn’t meant to ignore Y/n these past eight weeks. There were roughly thirty unfinished letters wrapped up in his pack, likely to never see the light of day. They were awful and sounded like something you would read in a grief pamphlet. All the things Y/n would hate to hear and every time Bucky reached for the phone to call her, he couldn’t. Bucky didn’t know what to say: I’m sorry. I know I told you I would bring him home and I swore I would protect him with my life, but I didn’t. 

If he could, Bucky would trade places with Steve for Y/n in a heartbeat. It should have been him. It never should have been Steve. Steve was the better half of the pair. Everyone thought so, and Bucky didn’t have someone who loved him waiting on him back home, not the way Steve did. Yeah, his mom and sister would have taken the blow the hardest, but they would have leaned on each other and made it through like they always did. Y/n didn’t have anyone else, and Bucky should have done more to protect her from this. He was standing right there when it happened.  He shouldn’t have walked away and left Steve standing there out in the open--

“You need to talk to her before you go home. At least let her know you’re coming to crash on her couch.” 

“I don’t know what to say to her, Tasha.” 

Natasha stared at him long enough to make him squirm from unease. She had a way of making me feel like an idiot without ever saying a word. Natasha sighed and locked eyes with him, ensuring he wouldn’t look away before she spoke. 

“Tell her you love her for starters.” 

Bucky felt panic rising in his chest. How did she know? Only Sam knew. Sam was the only one that he told all those years ago, he was the only one there the night all went down. Bucky relaxed as she went on, “She’s your closest friend--” 

Natasha doesn’t know you can relax, Bucky repeated to himself a few times until his hands unclenched and his heart rate returned to normal. 

 “--and she doesn’t deserve to be ghosted by one of the few people she has left because you’re awkward with emotions.” 

Bucky knew Natasha was right, but that doesn’t make it any easier. One thing hadn’t changed in the past two months; Bucky was still a coward. 

“Hey, Trouble.” 

Bucky held back his chuckle as he watched Y/n nearly jump out of her skin at the sound of his voice. Once she realized it was merely Bucky she narrowed her eyes, and he could no longer contain his chuckle. Y/n dug an elbow into his ribs, and he feigned a groan for her sake. Bucky leaned against the railing, resting on his elbows and doing everything he could to keep his eyes focused on the water before him, not exactly where he wanted to look. 

He wasn’t sure he could look at her. Not right now. Bucky’s nerves were jumping like a live wire, and he was worried if he saw her pretty eyes staring back at him, he would chicken out. 

“Sorry,” Bucky said, soft and unsure. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

That was true. Bucky hadn’t meant to. He only wanted a few minutes alone with her. 

“It’s okay. I’ve seen one too many horror movies. I feel like Jason is going to come up out of the lake or something,” she said with a shiver and instinctively slid closer to Bucky, letting their arms brush against each other. 

Shit, she was adorable when she said things like that. Bucky grinned and leaned his head towards hers with his eyes trained on a piece of driftwood floating nearby. He took a deep breath and whispered in her ear, “I’ll protect you, Y/n. I promise I’ll always protect you.” 

Bucky didn’t know why he said that. That was so utterly stupid. They were friends, and it didn’t matter what he wanted, Y/n never crossed that line or hinted that she wanted him to cross it. He should know better, but then she turned to face him, and the driftwood floating against the black water couldn’t hold his attention a second longer. He swallowed the lump in his throat and watched the way her lip reddened from the friction of her teeth, her eyes were brighter tonight under the moon, and her voice never sounded as sweet.  

"Always saving me. How’d I get so lucky to have a friend like you, Buck?”

That night changed everything between Bucky and Y/n, and his friendship with Steve was never the same. Not that Steve noticed, and maybe Bucky never did either. They’ve been friends for so long, ups and downs came and went through the years, so it wasn’t unusual to go through a few rough patches. Well, they were friends. Steve wasn’t there, and even if he was Bucky doubted, Steve would want him in life. 

Not once he discovered the truth under it all.  

Bucky leaned his head back against the headrest and closed eyes. That night wouldn’t stop playing on repeat. He saw the flames from the bonfire like they were in front of him, he remembered the violet in Y/n’s shirt and the lines on her bathing suit top. He remembered being a chicken, Dot, and every single second that led them all here to this future. There was a heaviness in his heart, and it came from the weight on his lap. Bucky looked down at the stack of envelopes resting on his legs, wrapped with white twine. 

They were meant for him, and every one was written by Steve; Bucky hated him a little for putting that burden on his shoulder. Bucky already had to live with failing him; was that not enough? 

Steve had to ask this of him, too?

Bucky ran his thumb along the worn paper of the envelope. They were covered in dirt, and the ink his name was written in on the front had all but faded away. He wished he could ask Steve when the hell he wrote these letters. If Bucky didn’t know any better, the punk’s been carrying them around since their first tour. It wasn’t fair what Steve was asking of him, and it wasn’t fair to Y/n either. Steve should have left these to Y/n, not to him. Bucky didn’t deserve to have Steve’s last words. 

There wasn’t much that Bucky did deserve, and the little that he did wasn’t anything good. 

Bucky glanced around at his unit surrounding him, and everyone was preoccupied. A few were playing card games, some were telling stories about their families and what their plans were once the plane landed, but the majority were fast asleep. It was as good a time as any to see what this was all about. Bucky took a deep breath and pulled the first letter out of the stack, carefully running his index finger under the flap to loosen the glue. It wasn’t difficult to separate thanks to the age of the glue and delicate paper it was clinging to. 

Clint’s loud cackling laugh startled Bucky enough to make him hesitate when he began to unfold the three pieces of notebook paper in his hand. He eyed the group, making sure they went back to their own little bubbles before he forced his fingers to work. Bucky flatted the pages on his knee and shifted in his seat at the sight of his name in Steve’s handwriting on that top left corner of the yellowed page. Something Bucky never gave much thought about before, but now he wanted to hold onto that little piece of Steve.

It was dumb, but that was all they had left. 

He cleared his throat to rid it of the lump that was rapidly forming and adjusted the hat on his head, pulling it down over his eyes as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Not that anyone would dare come over when he looked as he did, it felt as though he needed to hide. Bucky stayed hunched over like that as he read the first of twelve letters. 

Buck, 

I’m not thrilled that you’re reading this. If you are, it means something went wrong, and I’m not going to be making it home. I hope you’re not with me. I hope you’re heading home and taking care of things for me. I know you will. You’ve always been there when I needed you. This time will be no different. 

I bet you’re wondering how this is possible or why I did this. After Y/n, I knew I need some kind of back up plan. I wrote this during our first tour. Remember when I was sitting at the table and refused to tell you who I was writing to? You said I must be writing in my diary. I was writing to you, pal. 

You might have noticed there are twelve. Twelve letters. One a month. I figured it will take about twelve months, maybe more. I hope it doesn't take more than a year from any of you. I don’t want that.

Listen, Buck… I’m writing these because I have a favor to ask, and you’re the only one that can do it. I need you to take care of Y/n, and the letters will help…” 

Well, Bucky certainly deserved this. 

--

The flight was fine, long, but it went by without incident. Everyone was too excited to get home to cause much of a fuss about anything. It had been a long, painful tour, and for most, this was their last. Clint, of course, made a show the second they hit the pavement, fell to his knees, and kissed the tarmac. He wouldn’t admit it, but Bucky knew he burnt his lips. Bucky watched the men and women being greeted by friends and family, his chest tightened, and it felt as if he was being torn apart from the inside. If everything had gone the way it was supposed to, Y/n would be there with one of those silly signs and a tub of cookies. 

Y/n wasn’t there because she had no reason to be, and part of that was Bucky’s fault. 

That fault extended beyond the loss they both were suffering.

Bucky asked his mother and Rebecca to stay home this time around. It wasn’t a secret how badly they wanted to see him, but he wasn’t in the right place to give them the reassurance they needed. They needed to see him, so they knew without a doubt he was home, and he was okay, but he wasn’t. Yeah, he made it back, but a big part of him died out in the desert along with Steve. He wasn’t worthy of some big welcoming party full of tearful kisses and bone-crushing hugs. A quick hello at his mother’s place, in private, would be all he got because Bucky had several promises to keep before he could move on like he had planned.

Being home wasn’t all bad, though. The weight of his mistakes still clung to him, but the air was lighter here, and the sun was brighter without being as hot. The trees rustled in the breeze making his skin prickle at the sound. Bucky had forgotten he liked that sound. There were times like this when Bucky could simply forget. It was as if Steve wasn’t gone. He would be waiting for him when they got home, and the last two months wouldn’t have happened.

Those moments never lasted long; reality was always lurking nearby. 

Bucky stopped on the front porch, letting the thud of his boots sound his arrival. His pack slid off his shoulder and dropped onto the aging wood with a thwack. He took a deep breath and waited. It took longer than he thought it would. Bucky was a minute away from ringing the bell when the screen door creaked, and Y/n stepped out onto the porch, eyes clouded and hesitant, bottom lip sucked between her teeth to keep him from seeing the quiver. She crossed her arms over her chest, using them to guard herself against whatever Bucky had to tell and to ensure he knew she was angry with him. 

Bucky smiled. 

Forced into a new life, but the same girl he left behind was wrapped up in there somewhere. He had no doubt a part of her was gone forever, just like him, but that little piece stuck around, and he was glad. As mad as she was, he hoped she would let him say sorry. He had a lot to apologize for, a broken promise he could never make up for at the top of the list.

“Hey, Trouble,” Bucky said with the faintest of smirks. 

Bucky titled his head to the side, giving her a moment to process that it was really him standing there before him. Y/n’s arms fell to her side, and she threw herself into his waiting arms, hiding her face in his neck where she could finally let out two months' worth of tears and heartache; no one else would be able to carry them the way Bucky could. It turned out, she had missed him as much as he missed her. Bucky lifted her feet off the ground, she was lighter than he remembered, but losing half your heart will do that to you. He tightened his arms around Y/n, letting her feet hover off the ground as he carried her behind the safety of the concrete walls she’s been hiding within.

“It’s all right, Y/n,” Bucky whispered into the dark and empty house that already haunted him. “I got ya. We’re gonna be okay. I promise. I’m home, and we’re gonna be all right.” 

Sorry, and secrets could wait till morning.

Previous // Next 

[asleepyraven]

Overthinking

Summary: V tries to figure out how to prepare for a date she’s not even technically going on.

Word Count: 1,742

Warnings: Language

Characters: Female V (Nomad), Johnny

A/n: If I missed any warnings please let me know! In the mean time hope you enjoy! I sat on this one for wayyyyy too long.  Previous Part: Reflections

V’s eyes slowly opened, but the light was too bright and her vision was blurry. She blinked a few times and slowly the tattoo on her arm came into focus. It annoyed her at first- a reminder of what an idiot she’d been, but now it reminded her that she wasn’t alone. Her condition was getting worse. She fell asleep to more nightmares and awoke with stronger headaches. Johnny did- god help her, get under her skin, sometimes, and he may technically be the reason she’s dying, but she was glad she wasn’t going through this by herself. Everything aside, when push came to shove, he had always been there when it mattered most. 

Speak of the devil, she thought as he appeared next to her. “Finally, you’re awake. I know people say they need their beauty sleep, but fuck, doesn’t seem to help in your case.”  “Good morning to you too,” V yawned as she sat up and stretched. 

He glitched and reappeared standing at the window. “Afternoon is more like. Was starting to think you’d sleep right through dinner.” 

“Nah, promised to call Rogue, didn’t I? Can’t exactly go out on a date for a midnight snack.”  Johnny took off his glasses and looked at her. “You’re sure about this?” “Can’t say the idea of handing you the wheel again thrills me, but yeah. Besides, I kind of owe you for the whole lake date with Judy; I know that wasn’t exactly a good time for you.” 

She swore she saw him shiver as he put his glasses back on. “Wasn’t exactly fun for you either, but she batted her eyelashes and you just couldn’t say no.”

V shrugged. “It was important to her, even if it did scare me half to death.” 

“And you’re worried about me having control. Imagine how I feel any time a pretty girl asks you for a favor. Sure, Panam, I’ll raid a Wraith hide out with you. I’ll risk my neck to get your leader back. I’ll help you steal a god-damn tank. Sure, Judy, I’ll fight through two dozen scavs to rescue your ex. I’ll start a war with the Tyger Claws to free some joy toys. I’ll dive to the bottom of a fuckin’ toxic lake, even though I’m terrified of being underwater. You are hopeless when it comes to damsels in distress.” 

“I...fine. Maybe I have an issue with saying no to my friends, but most of it was fun.”  “It’s just tits you can’t say no to. You say no to me just fine.” 

V laughed. “Well, technically you’ve got tits now, so there goes your theory. Besides, I said I’d do it, didn’t I? You know I’m a merc of my word. And I agreed to give you a second chance, so...so there’s no reason not to.”

He sighed. “You don’t owe me anything. If you really don’t trust me then-”

“I...I want to. It’s just...scary, is all. Weird, being trapped in my own body with no control. Felt like I was locked in my own trunk. I guess maybe that’s how you feel all the time, but, I don’t know. It’s my body. I’m supposed to be driving.”  “Yeah, I can kind of understand that. Right now I’m standing here talking to you, completely aware, but the drugs take you out of it. Guess I could see how it’d be scary to only get flashes, but I promise, I’m not gonna make that mistake twice.” 

“I guess we’ll find out,” V sighed and pulled up Rogue’s number. 

She couldn’t believe she was really going to call up the queen of Afterlife and ask her on a date.  

“V, need something?” Rogue’s tone wasn’t exactly encouraging, but the fact that she answered was proof that she was at least somewhat over the whole Grayson/Smasher business. 

“Johnny wants to ask you out on a date,” V replied in a light, almost teasing tone. 

“Johnny does, or you do?”

V was taken aback. “Johnny. You’re the one who said you got no issue tellin’ us apart.” 

“Just not like him. Well, alright. Where would we go?”

“Where would you like to go?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Silver Pixel Cloud.”

“Alright. Sounds good. We’ll pick you up tonight then.” “Sure, come around six-thirty.”

“See you then.” 

V grinned like an idiot at Johnny, who couldn’t help but smirk back a little. 

He shook his head. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“’Cause it’s cute. Johnny has a date! It’s...kinda weird to think about actually.” 

He pushed off the window and stood up straight, crossing his arms. “And why’s that?”

“Dunno, just hard to picture. Not like you ever had to work for your girls; they just lined up for you. Do you even know how to be romantic?” 

He rolled his eyes. “You think Rogue and I hooked up in the first place because I swept her off her feet with roses and open doors?”

“I have no idea why she gave you the time of day, or why she still does for that matter. I mean, what was it, three other women you were sleeping with last time you were dating?”

“Well, she doesn’t have to worry about that now.”

“You see my point though. You have no idea how to even go on a normal date, do you?”

“I’ll be fine.” 

“Just trying to help. Look, we don’t have a lot of time. Make this night count is all I’m saying. Make it special somehow. Maybe be a bit of a gentleman for once in your life.”

“I’m always a gentleman.”  “Riiiiighhhttt. In any case, I better get a move on if I want to get some biz done before I hand over the wheel. First thing’s first, breakfast.”                                      *                         *                          *

V shrugged off her jacket as she entered her apartment.“Can’t believe it’s already five. Time flies when you’re doing merc work.”

Johnny lit up a cigarette. “It also flies when you sleep half the day.”

“Getting up early is overrated.” 

He flopped down on the couch. “Gotta agree with you there.”

“So, excited for tonight?” V asked as she strolled over to her closet. 

“Yeah, jumping up and down like a little girl, just on the inside.”  “This is so weird. What do I even wear? Do I try to look hot, or should I dress more like you?” “Wow okay.” 

“What? Ha, no, I just really don’t know what I should go for here.” 

“Don’t think it matters, V. ‘Sides, you’re not the one actually going on the date, ‘member?”

“Yeah, but my body is.”

“Wear whatever, it doesn’t matter.” 

“Doesn’t matter? Must be nice being you. What’s it like to give actually give zero fucks about what anyone thinks?”

“Fuckin’ preem. You should try it.” 

“Seriously, there’s no part of you that’s self-conscious? I could dress myself in the worst sweats I have and you’d just strut out there and make it work?” 

“I could, yeah.” He sat up and looked at her. “V, what’s really going on? You barely put any thought into how you dress. Why’s this any different?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird. Like, if I were dressing for a date with Judy this would be so much easier, but I’m not. I’m dressing for a date with Rogue, for you. It’s-”

“You’re thinking about it way too much.” 

“You’re probably right. I’m gonna go take a shower. I’m starting to give myself a headache.”  “You always have headaches.” 

“Funny, I didn’t used to until you showed up.”  “What, no one ever pointed out the dumb shit you do before I showed up?” V smiled sadly. “No, I used to have someone that did the dumb shit with me.”  “Jackie.” 

“Mhm.” 

“You don’t talk about him much.” 

“What was it you said when I said that about you and Alt? There was never the right time?” “Not exactly easy to just spill about your dead chooms, is it?”

“No. Not really.”  They lapsed into silence until V stepped out of the shower. 

“So, decide what you’re going to wear?” Johnny asked appearing behind her in the mirror. 

“Fuck, can you not? You know I hate when you do that.”

“It’s not like I don’t know what you look like.” 

“I know, but it’s a little easier when you’re not... Can you just- You don’t have to be right here.”

He rolled his eyes, but glitched out of view. “Really V, it’s not like there’s any secrets between us. You’ve seen me naked. Is that your issue, that it’s just you? Cause I could-” She toweled off her hair. “Fuck, no. Just, look I know all that, but give a girl her fake privacy, alright? Let me pretend that I have some space in here.”  “Psht, nothin’ but empty space in here, can almost hear the echos.”  “Lucky that means there was enough room for your ego.”  She wrapped her towel around herself and strolled over to her closet. She decided maybe she was putting too much thought into it. She grabbed a pair of distressed jeans and tugged them on. She reached for her Samurai tank top, but stopped.  She turned to Johnny. “T-shirt or tank?”  “For fuck’s sake V, it doesn’t matter!” “But what would you feel more comfortable in? I mean you wear tanks, but it’s different when a girl does it.”  “Why?”

She flexed her arm. “’Cause for guys it’s sun’s out guns out, but for girls,” She drew a hand across her torso. “It’s more about the chest. So I don’t know. It’s that weird for you?” “In case you missed it, this whole thing is weird. Pick whatever.” V grabbed her Samurai T-shirt instead. She went back to the mirror and spiked up her hair and brushed her teeth.  “You done yet? We’re gonna be late. You know, now that I think about it, how are lesbians ever on time for dates?”

“We just add a half hour to whatever time we set,” V responded, tugging on her jacket. She slid Johnny’s shades out of the pocket and put them on. “How do I look?”

He shrugged. “Decent I guess, can we go now?”

“Yeah, let me just find the keys.” 

“We takin’ the Porsche?”

“Well yeah, since my motorcycle doesn’t exactly fit two, besides I’m sure Rogue will get a kick out of it.” 

He smirked. “Oh, she sure will.”