#and he's gonna go back into the office and charge her there too fuck my boss and his negligent abuse of a sentient life form bitch

[artseniccatnip]

well my boss says to shut her off to save on charging costs but i hate him so i'm just gonna bring her to my christmas party instead

bluesky really enjoyed this tami redesign so i wonder if my tumblr audience would enjoy it, this is tami! a news reporter robot :3

[luveline]

Hi jadeeeee I have a request for coworker James! Another man whether it’s at work or somewhere else starts hitting on reader and James get jealous and realizes he hates seeing her with other guys

ty for requesting 💌 fem

It’s another sunny day at the office, but today is the day the vending machine men come in and fill them, so it’s not all bad. The doors and windows are wide open, the air is fresh and clean. 

“It’s too hot,” Remus complains without any real passion. 

“It’s not that bad,” Sirius says, though he raises his hand to begin fanning Remus anyhow. “It feels hotter than it is because of the humidity.” 

“I feel amazing,” James says. He gives you a nudge with his shoe, his hair tickling his neck as he leans back in his chair. “It’s not that hot, is it?” 

“It’s boiling,” you say. 

You were never going to agree with him. It could be sub zero and you’d tell him you were on fire. James rolls his eyes at you and continues a rather lavish existence of sun, breeze, and cold grapes, their crisp insides popping between his teeth. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

James lifts his head. 

“That’s okay,” Jordan says, to James’ immediate affront. There’s no need for the man in charge of maintaining the vending machine to be talking to you in that tone. It’s bordering too sweet. 

“I’m always in your way,” you laugh. 

“You? In my way? Never.” 

You turn to Remus with an obvious expression. Is he flirting with me? it says. 

Remus looks at James —what the fuck?— before he gives you a tentative back and forth of his head, weighing it up. He shrugs. 

James shakes his head resolutely. 

You give them both the silent version of I understand and settle down in your seat again. The vending machine guy (what’s his name again? James can’t remember) pops open the front cover of the machine and takes out the change box. Clearly, he doesn’t categorise you or the boys as a risk of burglary. 

“So,” Jordan says, “how was your weekend? Did you do much?” 

“In this weather?” you ask with light-humoured sarcasm. “I went on a couple of walks, nothing huge. How about you?” 

“Went to a couple of matches.” 

“Rugby or football?” 

“Rugby, always.” 

James feels the pressure of his teeth clenching at the back of his head. “Do you play, mate?” he asks. 

Jordan looks at him in surprise. “No, we just watch. It’s an excuse to have a pint before five.” 

You break two slices of your clementine away from each other. James doesn’t know why, but your gaze is on him, and that’s where he wants it. “Day drinker?” he asks sympathetically. 

“James,” Sirius says, laughing. “Grow up.” 

“Sometimes,” Jordan says. He finishes reinstalling the change holder and starts to push snacks and drinks onto the vending machine shelves. “Gotta have a little bit of fun every now and then, right?” 

He emphasises to you. 

You give a shy smile. “Right.” 

Jordan finishes his job and wishes everyone goodbye quickly after that. You chew your clementine, your finger looped under your bracelet, tugging slowly round and around. He fucked that up for you, didn’t he? You couldn’t get very far with him poking holes at poor Jordan, but… you’d been smiling at him nicely. You’re allowed to smile at whoever you want to, of course you are, so why did James act like that? 

“Sorry,” he says. 

You slide your thumb between slices of clementine. “To me?” you ask from the corner of your mouth. “For what?” 

Sirius and Remus laugh at the same time. 

James ignores them. “I was mean to him. How are you ever gonna get a date if I bully the vending machine guy?” 

“You think I can’t get a date?” you ask. 

“No.” He grimaces. “No, just, he’s a dickhead.” 

“As opposed to who? You?” you ask. 

James is pretty sure his vision goes white. He hates seeing you with other boys, but this isn’t where he wanted the conversation to go. He doesn’t wanna be your boyfriend. He just hates seeing you happy with other people. 

Oh, god, he thinks. That’s horrible. 

“I think you can do a whole lot better than Jacob the vending machine guy.” 

“Jordan,” you correct, laughing. You don’t bring him up on avoiding your real question, perhaps you don’t notice. You just laugh with Remus and pass James a piece of your clementine. “Vending machines are an honest living. Don’t be so classist.” 

“You’re classist,” he rebukes weakly. He ignores Sirius’ knowing gaze to offer you his punnet of grapes. “Horrible woman.” 

“Get it together, Potter.” 

James doesn’t know what to say to you after that, so he says nothing at all. Your clementine is sweet on his tongue. 

[gurugirl]

oldest to newest

First Smutty One Shot (3.5k words)

in which Harry wants to buy your albums but then he realizes he wants a little something more from you or where Harry fucks you so you'll calm down

Again & Again (5.4k words)

in which lhh!Harry is your server and he takes you home after girl’s night is over or where lhh!Harry fucks you good, but comes too fast

Gonna Make You Mine (6k words) (mafia!harry)

extra

in which Harry is your boyfriend's boss and he wants to have you for himself or where Harry fucks you in front of your boyfriend

The Work Call (1.3k words)

in which you’re desperate for Harry’s attention when he’s ignoring you on a work call

Too Hard to Keep Quiet (678 words) (boyfriend!harry)

in which you and Harry try to keep it down while having sex in your childhood bedroom down the hall from your family

The Doctor & the Psychopath (9.7k words)

extra

in which Harry is facing serious assault charges and you’re the forensic psychologist tasked with analyzing him or where Harry manipulates you into having sex but you kind of like it

Music For a Festival (896 words)

in which you meet Harry, the lead singer of a local rock band, at a music festival and you bring him back to your tent

Thank You, Next (7.3k words)

extra

in which you are at a club with your very drunk boyfriend and you and Harry spot one another from across the room or where you meet lhh!Harry at a club while you're with your boyfriend and he fucks you in the bathroom

A Public Nuisance (1.6k words) (coworker!harry)

you and Harry are office coworkers and everyone’s out tonight at the local bar celebrating, but you and Harry find yourselves in a rather compromising position

Sex Ed With Harry (7.4k words) (innocent virgin!reader)

in which you’re a sweet, innocent, Christian, virgin and you meet Harry at a college party and he can show you a few things

Dirty & Rough (1.6k words)

reader ask:harry cheats on his gf with you and maybe not necessarily a breeding kink but cream pie kink ?? like, “i’m gonna stuff you so full of my cum”. veryyyy rough and degrading like he’s just using you to get off. “cumdump” etc..maybe he’s quite a bit older than u as well. face slapping, spit kink, as dirty as possible…you get me LOL

I Guess You're All Mine (11.9k words) (friends to lovers)

based on a true story: in which Harry is the hot drummer in your boyfriend’s band and he tells you a secret that changes everything

The Long Weekend (9.8k words) (friends to enemies to lovers)

extra

in which you and Harry hate one another but then things change

The Wedding Guest (4.5k words)

in which you meet Harry at a friend's wedding and show up at his hotel room the next morning to take him up on an offer he made you the night before

Lactation kink (700 words)

reader ask: I don't know if this sounds weird, but you would write one where the reader and Harry had a baby and while she and Harry are having sex, milk starts to come out of her breasts and he starts to suck

The Scientist & the Stripper (15.2k words) (nerd!harry | virgin!harry)

extra #1 | extra #2

in which virgin/nerd!Harry moves in next door to you and you invite him over for a small get together with friends where he gets more than he bargained for at the end of the night

On Halloween Morning (8.7k words) (ghost!harry)

a horror-filled Halloween one-shot. Harry is a ghost and you don't believe in ghostsbut you find out you were dead wrong.

Psoriasis Fluff (652 words)

reader ask: Heyy, how you doinggg!! Could u write smthg abt a reader with psoriasis.. maybe she's insecure to go out in a dress or smthg and harry helps her feel better. Mines been pretty bad recently and I could use some fluffrry (no smut)

Mixed Signals (9.5k words) (best friends to lovers)

bestfriends to lovers one shot - You and Harry have been best friends since you were children and now that you're both adults you can no longer deny the feelings that have been there all along

The Threesome (3.3k words) (Fratboy!Harry)

Harry's hot but he's nice and he's into you tonight

A Delicate Thing (7.6k words) (mafia boss!harry)

extra

Harry is a crime boss and he meets the woman of his dreams on an important night.

Tell Me You Hate Me (12.1k words) (male!reader | enemies to lovers)

Based on this request - You and Harry work together as bartenders and your relationship is hot and cold which infuriates you to no end. But you can't say you don't find him attractive, regardless of his cocky attitude.

The Italy Blurb (1.6k words) (boyfriend!harry)

reader prompt: some plotless smut featuring a little bit of jealous yn riding Harry's tiger & yacht sex.

Bad Morning (3.6k words) (professor!h x professor!yn)

You run late to an important meeting with your colleagues and Professor Styles decides to punish you.

Spiderman (4.2k words) (fratboy!harry | lhh!harry)

You’re at the big Halloween frat costume party and get to flirting with someone dressed as Spiderman. The tall, masked man with a deep voice just so happens to know a private spot to reveal his true identity to you.

The Ex (3.4k words) ex!harry

Harry's your ex-lover and you see him at a wedding after many years apart. You're both married but Harry proposes something that you have a hard time saying no to.

Nympho (4.5k words) nympho!poly!harry

Y/n is a nymphomaniac who just loves people. One day she happens upon a "harem" arrangement that seems perfect for her and her insatiable appetite. Loosely based on this Tumblr request.

Harry bruises your cervix - blurb (450 words) husband!harry

A quick filthy, requested blurb. Nothing more and nothing less.

Next Door Neighbors (7.8k words) neighbor!harry

Part 2 (5k words)

You just wanted peace and quiet and Harry just wanted to jam out in his garage for his birthday. So you decide to confront your new neighbor but things don't go as you planned.

The Fleshlight Blurb (1.5k) subrry

Harry has to go on a business trip without Y/n so she gets him a special toy to use while he's away and she tells him to send her a video of him using it.

The Handyman (11k words) the check-in (3.6k)

When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for.

Breeding Kink Blurb (587 words)

Requested - just straight up smut

Sex Tutor (10k words) Part II (13k+ words)

Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

Daddy's Pretty Girl | dom!daddy!h (4.4k words)

Harry just wants to make his princess happy OR The story of you and Harry, how you met, and all the rest.

The Trio (3k words)

Three strangers meet at a club and things get sexy. Featuring a MMF threesome.

Baby Daddy (14k words)

After you have a one-night stand with your good friend Harry and become pregnant he doesn't know for certain that the baby is his, but he has his suspicions.

Little Flower (4.5k words)

You're startled during a power outage late one night when your co-worker, Harry, is at your door, drenched from the rain. How does he even know where you live?  dark!harry | stalker!harry

Use Me Up (7k)

Harry's your boyfriend's best friend and he's very hard to resist. boyfriend's best friend!harry

Assistance Needed (3k)

Harry finds himself in an awkward position when you walk in on him in his office just as he's in the middle of something quite improper. ceo!harry x assistant!reader

The Babysitter (2k)

PART 2 (2.5K)

Based on this request: The cute babysitter Harry's wife hired has always tempted him, but now that his wife is away for the evening Harry might just give in. dad!harry x babysitter!reader

She Likes To Watch (4.8k)

Harry and his wife have an interesting lifestyle but when they invite you over for a night of fun you realize you're more into it than you thought you'd be. hothusband!harry

Truth or Dare (6.7k)

Based on this request: Harry's never been to a slumber party so Y/n decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.

The Mushroomer | friendly!ghost!harry (11.5k)

Based on this request: Y/n moves into a small house in the woods and she soon realizes the house is haunted. But it really turns out to be not so bad at all to have a ghost when he's as kind as the one living with her.

Says Who? | demonrry (3.1k)

A Halloween Blurb! Y/n goes to an underground club and meets the devil and she'll never ever forget it.

DILF | older!harry (6.5k)

Based on this request: Y/n meets an older man at a bar and she's not taking no for an answer. Harry likes her persistence.

[aledethanlast]

I want to clarify something about my Lawyer!Andrew post:

Andrew is not doing this to impress people. In fact he actively doesn't want to impress people. He is done being a superman who holds everyone's lives in his hands. It's not good for his mental health when he's doing it and it's not good for anyone when that he fails, because the law is too big and some of these fuckers are just legitimately dumber and more guilty than his literal murderous mafia husband.

Anyways. Andrew wakes up in the morning, goes to his closet and shoves aside the 15k dollar Armani suits so he can put on the two piece he got at Macy's (then tailored to fit, cause he still has standards), and a matching tie.

He goes to the office. Brad asks him if he heard about the latest draft picks. Andrew stares him down until Brad goes to Andrew's desk and drops a quarter in the "Asking Andrew about Exy" jar. Andrew's coworkers seem to think that he's gonna buy the office a Foosball table with the jar money. They are wrong. It is for a new cat tower. Also, no Andrew hasn't seen it, but he got the rundown from Neil and Kevin, so he knows enough to tell Brad not to bother with a season pass for the Sealions this year.

He has two cases to deal with today. The first is a vehicular manslaughter charge. The client is pleading self defense, and that the victim was a stalker. Andrew likes her because, despite bursting into tears every time they have a trial prep session, she actually listens to instructions and knows when to shut the fuck up. He's confident.

The second is grand larceny. The guy is so super incredibly guilty but Brad gave him this case because he knows Andrew loves police misconduct cases and this one is just so full of protocol breaches that Andrew only had to show Neil the file for him to burst out laughing.

Janet says he has a call waiting. Janet is the highest paid paralegal in the county, because she also filters his celebrity mail. Technically Neil's pr firm still represents him, but Janet knows to turn down the DA's gala invitations without needing to argue with him.

He picks up the phone. It's the DA. The man invites him to the police gala because he knows Andrew ignored the emails. Andrew assumes the man was banking on Andrew giving a polite refusal he can wheedle or harangue into compliance. The man is new to the job, so Andrew will forgive this embarrassing miscalculation.

They spend the next hour discussing court dates for a certain case. Andrew's client for that one is disabled and only has partial aid, and he won't let them set court dates that they know she won't be able to attend. The DA, despite his embarrassing naivate, seems to be on the same page in this regard, so hopefully this will go well when they bring the matter to the judge.

In the span of this phone call, two of Brad's clients come into the office, and within five minutes of walking in are made to contribute to the jar. They don't get their questions answered, because he's on the phone, and they're not Brad.

He has court tomorrow. Court is annoying, because it's a room full of strangers who hear his name and forget why he's there, and he's not allowed to bring the jar. Court is a chore, because he has to walk people through their own idiocy, and then occasionally convince the room of just how stupid or brilliant it actually was.

Court is also, maybe, just a teensy bit fun, because whatever the stereotype of a lawyer is, Andrew really isn't it, and that makes people take him a lot less seriously until he starts quoting their words back to them faster than the stenographer.

(Janet also filters job offers. They tend to crop up every few months.)

(It used to be more fun, back in the early days when Neil would sit in sometimes, until he remembered just how horrifically boring the whole thing is. But that's fine. Andrew is happy having his own thing.)

But really, court is easy. It's a place where your word has weight, where promises are binding, and when everything is going to shit, nobody looks at Andrew like he's the freak for keeping his head.

[lavouredior]

AAAA I LOVE UR BUNNY FICS

Could I request an angry vox x bunny!reader where vox is angry and accidentally takes it out on reader? Please don't feel pressured to write we love you!! /p

awww i love you guys too 🥹

warnings: none except that this is hella short, reader calls vox bubs, tbh this a little more on velvette & bunny rather than vox x bunny

“stupid fucking moth! fucking val always having to clean up after fucking val.” vox sighed. valentino was giving him a new problem pretty much every five minutes and vox was less than happy about it.

of course you aren’t aware of that, which is why you skipped into vox’s office with your stuffed animal and took your usual spot on your boyfriends lap, cuddling into him.

vox practically pushed your head off of him. “not in the mood right now bunny.” you just frowned wrapping your arms around him. “want bubs time though.”

he just sighed before grabbing your stuffed animal and throwing it towards the door. “go get your stupid bunny and stay out. okay? or do you need to be punished again because you have rocks for brains right now?”

you looked at your boyfriend, tears welling in your eyes before getting off his lap and going to get your stuffed animal. you looked back at him, tears starting to run down your face before you walked out.

you went to velvette, who was typically the one who was in charge of watching for your well being when vox was busy. although she never got you when you were sobbing.

“oh fucking christ! does that tv need a punch to the face or something that he’s hurting my favorite bunny’s feelings!” velvette was not happy at all due to your crying, especially when you had told her how vox yelled at you and threw your stuffed animal

she got on her phone and immediately called vox. “you stupid little tv i don’t know what your problem is but do not think it’s okay to yell at this fucking bunny ever fucking again or me and you are gonna have a problem. okay?”

[desceros]

For infinite singularity, I was wondering, after Donnie takes reader out of the office through the portal…

What happens to the..crime scene and our psycho coworker? Especially what did the rest of the brothers do?

(Btw love ur work, ur a total inspiration! ✨💞drink water, steal sum sustenance, take care of yourself 💗)

As soon as you and Donnie are through the portal, Leo gets to work. 

Mikey’s in charge of keeping your coworker from doing anything stupid. A task he enjoys greatly, as it means he gets to sit and giggle on the guy’s chest and pretend he can’t hear him wheezing for breath where Donnie nearly choked him. Meanwhile, Raph is sent off to take care of getting the power back on. He’s no Donnie with tech and never will be, but he’s getting decent at stuff like this. They don’t need it, but it’ll make it easier when the cops finally show up to wipe up the mess.

“So, what exactly was the plan here, huh?” Leo asks your coworker. “You get kicks out of roughing up pretty girls?”

“She’s not some random girl. She’s my soulmate,” your coworker spits, vile descriptions of the things he planned on doing to you cut off when Leo gets a foot on the clown’s broken forearm. 

“Wow, that’s so weird. Here I thought she was my brother’s soulmate,” Leo says, waving his hand in the air and watching the rage purple your coworker’s face. “What with the whole can’t stand to be apart and gazing sappily into each other’s eyes thing they have going on.”

“My pure little dove wouldn’t fuck a monster. He’s forcing her.”

“Buddy, I can promise you, first hand account, she did. Also, kind of ironic considering I’m pretty sure you got caught with your hand in one hell of a cookie jar, don’t you think?”

Raph comes back. “Power’s on,” he says, his word the only indication that’s the case since he left the lights off. Better for them, just in case. 

“Good job. One last thing,” Leo says, putting more of his weight on your coworker’s arm and feeling the bones splinter beneath his heel. “What’s TCRI doing sending out hit squads? Last I checked, business wasn’t supposed to be this cut-throat.”

Between heaving breaths of agony, your coworker groans in wretched agony before he just starts to laugh and laugh and laugh. “You’re a funny guy.”

“Right? Everyone keeps saying it’s my brother, but man, I’m telling you, my lines are killer,” Leo says, a grin that’s all teeth slashing onto his face as he grinds his heel into shattered bone. 

“He ain’t gonna talk,” Raph says after a minute more of your coworker just laughing each time he stops gritting his teeth in pain. 

“I can make him do it,” Mikey says cheerfully, a smile that doesn’t match his eyes pulling into place. 

“…Raph’s right. We’re not going to get anything out of him,” Leo says, pulling his foot off your coworker’s arm. “Knock him out and call it in.”

“I’ll find her again,” your coworker grits through his teeth. “She’ll never be able to hide from me. I’ll haunt her forever. Even if it’s like this, it’ll only ever be me she thinks about. Forever and ever and—”

“Ohh, my god, shut up,” Mikey groans, and with a thwack, your coworker goes silent. He then looks up at Leo, tilting his head. “…I didn’t know you believed in soulmates, too, Leo!”

“…Of course I don’t,” Leo brushes off, turning to inspect the security camera, putting his shell to his brother’s gaze.

“Cops’re on the way,” Raph says, and the two watch as Mikey gets your coworker trussed like a turkey. 

“We’ll have Donnie send them the security footage. Doesn’t look like he tampered with the cameras,” Leo says. Cutting a portal, he jerks his head. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Reappearing in the lair, Leo pulls up his phone.

neon leon (6:11 p.m.) hey hermano. everything okay over there? how she doing

neon leon (6:12 p.m.) bud? you good?

neon leon (6:15 p.m.) nerd says whaaaat

Narrowing his eyes, Leo starts to tap out the next message—dude if you don’t answer in two minutes i’m coming over and—before he freezes in place, thinks for a moment, then groans in disgust. 

“Did you get a hold of Donnie?” Raph asks, tilting his head in confusion when Leo brushes past with a wrinkled beak.

“Let’s give ‘em an hour then try again. Fuckin’ rabbits.”

“…Rabbits?”

Mikey pets Raph’s shell consolingly. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“Wh—B—I’m the oldest?!”

[the-iceni-bitch]

He Gives Me Everything and Tenderly…

Pairing: detective!bottom Bucky Barnes x younger!top male reader (Sarge and Officer Beefcake, NLLYL AU)

Words: ~5k

Summary; Bucky is just fine on his own. He really is. He’s used to it. Even after meeting you and thinking about you a whole bunch, he’s still fine. And he does not appreciate his friends’ meddling.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (mentions of male masturbation, salad tossing, protected anal sex, spit as lube and lube as lube, kinda public sex), meet cute, reverse age gap, tall/beefy male reader, bottom!Bucky Barnes, Bucky is grumpy, hints of angst, love at first sight? lots of friendly teasing, m/m relationship, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: Welp, this was something I wrote entirely in one sitting and I can’t say I’m mad about it at all. This is my first ever male reader fic and I am both incredibly nervous and very excited to share it with all of you! Big ass thanks to the absolutely amazing @howdoyousleep3 for hyping me up and providing some much appreciated perspectives (remember lube, people!)

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Bucky was exhausted. A long ass shift at the end of a long ass week and he was done, looking forward to going home and drinking a cold beer on his couch while he didn’t talk to anyone for a whole 48 hours. God, he hated people.

Except Darcy, and the cute little peach. Even though he wanted to get the fuck out of there he still stopped by the dispatch desk to chat with his girls and let them cheer him up a little.

“Hey Sarge!” He shook his head when Darcy called him that, her stubborn insistence to call him by his military rank after however many years just one of the many things that endeared her to him. “You look like shit, you finally getting out of here? Maybe gonna see someone special tomorrow?”

“The only people he’ll be seeing are Sam Adams and Johnnie Walker, maybe James Bond… hey!” The peach gave him an adorable scowl when he threw a paper clip at her, rubbing her cheek where it had hit her and sticking her tongue out at him before turning her attention back to her screen. “Don’t act like I’m not right, I’m there every time you drunk dial Nat while you’re binge watching old movies and lamenting your lack of a love life.”

“Tell your girlfriend to quit putting me on speaker or I’m gonna call her ex to chat from now on.” Bucky grinned when she rolled her eyes at him, bringing his attention back to Darcy and sighing when she was giving him a sympathetic pout. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine. I like being alone.”

“You’re lying, but fine.” Darcy shrugged at him, grinning when there was a sudden commotion at the doors and a mess of recruits came charging through into the hallway after Sam. “Hi Sammy, boys! Ooh, hey there beefcake, you run laps around all those slugs on the course again?”

“Maybe.”

Bucky choked when you were standing next to him, trying not to ogle you swathed in those gray sweats and feeling like the world’s dirtiest old man all of a sudden. “They’re getting better, starting to catch up. You shouldn’t call them slugs, Darce.”

“Please, like Wilson hasn’t called them worse, you’re too nice.” Peachy girl grinned when she turned in her chair again and saw Bucky looking like his jaw was about to hit the floor. “Have you met Detective Barnes, beefy?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure.” Bucky took in your name with an almost hysterical laugh when you reached out and shook his hand, not entirely sure what had come over him as he felt his neck getting unbearably hot and struggled to come up with something to say. “Well, I’ve gotta hit the showers, always lovely talking to you ladies.”

“Bye!” Both of them were grinning wickedly at Bucky once you were gone, chuckling when he just spluttered nonsense and looked at the floor. “What the fuck was that, Bucky?”

“Shut up.” He was flabbergasted, he’d never felt such an unbelievable attraction to someone right off the bat, except, once. But he never thought about that. “It wasn’t anything.”

“Oh, nothing at all?” Darcy was still grinning when Bucky growled at her, shaking her head and leaning back in her chair while the peach kept laughing. “So you weren’t staring at his ass when he walked away?”

“Of course not.” It had only been a little bit, you were so fucking tall your ass was impossible to miss, and so high and tight and… no, nope. “What the hell kind of nickname is beefcake, anyway?”

“You saw him.” Peach was practically cackling at this point, the redness on Bucky’s face so entertaining she was considering taking a photo to send to Nat. “The man is grade A USDA prime meat, what would you like us to call him?”

“You’re a couple of pervs.” Bucky just scoffed and ignored them when they told him it takes one to know one, flipping them off over his shoulder and almost forgetting his bag when he stormed out of the precinct to start his much needed alone time. “Inappropriate, gonna talk to HR about you two!”

If it had just been the one interaction, Bucky probably could’ve handled it. Yeah, he had jerked himself off thinking about your broad shoulders and tiny waist and that masterpiece of an ass, but only once, okay three times. But it was just over the weekend, he’d forget about you eventually.

Except for the fact that suddenly he was seeing you everywhere. Every damn time he was in the precinct, there you were, smiling that slightly crooked smile and laughing and making every person light up when you walked through the room. And in the fucking sweats every time, it was like torture. Torture that was made worse by the fact that Darcy and peach were always grinning at him like they knew something he didn’t, and they had apparently told Sam whatever they supposedly knew, so now that man was basically parading you in front of Bucky’s desk every chance he got and making him talk to you and get to see how fucking charming you were. He hated it.

“I do, I love cats!” Sam was chatting with you right in front of Bucky’s desk again and he was plotting how he could get away with murdering the man. “Have a little ginger idiot at home who has maybe two braincells, but he’s my baby.”

“Wow, that’s adorable.” Bucky almost growled at Sam when he grinned at him. “Bucky has a kitty of his own, don’t you, Buck?”

“Yes.” Sometimes he even hated his friends, this was ridiculous.

“I love that, knew you were a cat person.” Bucky almost groaned when you placed your hand on the desk so close to his, looking up at you through his lashes and trying so hard not to melt into his chair when he saw you smiling at him. “What’s her name?”

“Alpine.” You smelled so unbelievably good, Bucky had an incredible urge to lean up and bury his face in your neck, but managed to just turn the photo of his cat around to show you instead. “She’s three.”

“She’s gorgeous.” You winked and Bucky almost swooned, there was something wrong with him. “Shit, I’ve gotta get out of here, got a birthday party to get to. It’s always real nice talking to you, Detective.”

“You too.” Bucky swallowed thickly and shook his head when you walked away, his scowl coming back immediately when he saw Sam looking like he just ate a damn canary as he smirked at him. “Shut up.”

“Didn’t say anything.” Sam chuckled when Bucky just hunched over his paperwork and tried to ignore him. “Buuuuut… hoo boy, you like him.”

“I do not.” Murder was the only answer to these affronts. “He’s too young.”

“Bullshit, is peach too young for Nat?” Sam snorted when Bucky just grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at the man’s stubbornness. “You like like him, you need to get over that massive hang up, Barnes, it’s holding you back!”

“Man, fuck you!” Bucky jumped when he realized that Sam wasn’t there anymore, so he was just yelling at the bullpen, every member of the team giving him looks of varying amusement before they bent back to their work. “Sorry.”

It was a legitimate hang up, especially when it came to you. Because you reminded Bucky of him.

Specifically of when he was young, when Bucky first realized he was in love and overlooked all of his flaws and just wanted to be wrapped up in him all the time in spite of the fact the man would only look at Bucky like his old friend who he could tell about every single disgusting conquest he made. And that meant you were dangerous. Bucky refused to do that to himself again, it had taken him too long to get over that malicious bastard, and nothing had hurt him more than the realization that he had wasted so much time loving someone who barely gave a fuck about him. He didn’t care how sincere and charming you seemed, he wasn’t going to fall for that same shit all over again.

But it didn’t stop any of his friends from dragging you in front of him at every opportunity, and even though he was polite and listened to you and answered all your questions, it didn’t stop him from snarling at them as soon as you were gone. He didn’t care what they thought he needed, he was fine.

He wasn’t lonely. He didn’t wake up grinding his hips into his mattress after dreaming of sharing his bed with you. He didn’t wonder what you would look like with soft morning light falling across your face while both of your cats jumped on you and Bucky made you breakfast. They all needed to worry about their own lives and quit fucking with his.

Which is why he should have been suspicious as hell when Nat and her little peach and Darcy insisted on taking him out for drinks on a Friday night. All of them together. At a dive bar that was typically just cops. Like they didn’t usually go uptown and dress up.

“Well, look at that, is that Sam?” Darcy bounced on her toes and waved when she spotted Sam with all of his recruits, her and peach squealing while Bucky shot Nat an exhausted look. “Gosh, I completely forgot they’re celebrating the academy graduation, what are the chances?”

“Shocking.” Bucky couldn’t stop growling when Nat just shrugged at him. “I can’t believe they dragged you into their scheming, Romanoff.”

“They’re young and excited, it’s cute.” Nat wrapped her arm around Bucky’s shoulders and started pulling him towards the group. “Besides, you deserve someone nice, and to spend the night with someone besides Alpine.”

“Alpine doesn’t take up that much room on the bed, and I like to spread out.” Bucky just resigned himself to having a miserable night, even when you gave him an easy smile once you laid eyes on him and waved eagerly. “And he might not be nice.”

“Buck, you won’t know unless you give him a chance.” Nat sighed as she rested her chin on her best friend’s shoulder, pinching his cheek and trying to get him to at least give her a grudging smile. “And you know how good my asshole radar is, I’m getting no pings from the beefcake.”

“Yeah, alright.” Bucky steeled himself when you started walking his way, feeling a little tight in his chest and watery in his eyes as he did his best to give you a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi Detective.” Your smile got even wider when Nat introduced herself, shaking her hand warmly then turning back to Bucky and crossing your arms over your massive chest. “Can I get you a beer?”

“I don’t…” Bucky caught himself when Nat looked at him expectantly and blew out a deep breath. “Yeah, a beer would be great.”

“Fantastic, for you too?” You winked at Nat when she nodded before hurrying off to get their drinks with an undeniable bounce in your step that Bucky found he enjoyed very much.

“Listen, Buck.” Nat gave you a very thorough look while you waited at the bar, wrapping her arms around her girl when she came to sit on her lap and Darcy sat across from them. “Even if it doesn’t last, you’re a special kind of idiot if you don’t at least have sex with that man.”

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky felt himself blush up to his ears when all of the women just nodded enthusiastically and started detailing what the two of you should do to each other. “You three are worse than frat boys, oh my god.”

“C’mon, sarge…” Darcy snapped her mouth shut when you came back with Bucky’s and Nat’s drinks, giving Bucky a meaningful look and making a little circle with her thumb and forefinger then pushing her opposite finger through it while your back was turned until Bucky felt like he was in fucking high school. “Hi beefcake!”

“Hi Darce!” You were sitting so close to Bucky he could smell you again, he had to start chugging his beer so he didn’t reach out to bury his fingers in your hair. “I’ve always wanted to ask, why does she call you ‘sarge’?”

“Oh, it was my rank when I was discharged.” Bucky couldn’t handle the way you were looking at him, like he was the most interesting thing in the room, he wanted to fall into your eyes and get lost. “From the army. Darcy’s sister served with me, so she knew me then and the nickname stuck.”

“I didn’t know you served, my dad was in the marines.” You could see Bucky starting to tense up and bless you, you backed off, keeping that easy smile on your face while you nudged his foot with yours. “It’s okay, that’s not something we have to talk about right now, tell me about Alpine, how’s the little lady doing?”

“She’s- she’s good.” Something about the way you instantly pivoted the conversation and didn’t make Bucky feel like an ass for almost clamming up had him relaxing pretty much instantly, grinning back at you and rolling his eyes a little playfully when he thought about his little furry troublemaker. “She’s a brat, but good. Almost gave me a heart attack last week when she somehow managed to climb up to the ceiling beams in my apartment.”

“Oh shit! Really?” You chuckled warmly when Bucky just nodded and took another sip of his beer, plucking at the edge of the label on your bottle and leaning forward a little so you could hear him better. “She get down on her own or did you have to get a ladder?”

“Well, after six hours of pleading and begging, I did finally manage to entice her with some tuna.” Bucky kept watching your face closely, the earnestness he was so wary of constant and never wavering while you listened to everything he said intently. “She’s too smart for her own good, I swear.”

“Fuck, I can’t decide if my situation is better or worse.” You laughed when Bucky scoffed, pushing at his shoulder and shaking your head when he looked at you with mock offense. “No, I love my boy, but he’s a dumbass of epic proportions. The most worrisome thing he’s ever done is get his whole head stuck in a mason jar. Theodore is an idiot.”

“Theodore?” Bucky was vaguely aware of movement next to him after he emptied his beer and set down the bottle, but he couldn’t stop watching your lips move. “That’s adorable.”

“Aw, yeah, my niece named him.” Your smile got even wider somehow and it was making Bucky melt, another bottle of beer appearing seemingly out of nowhere on the table and immediately finding its way to his lips. “It’s her favorite chipmunk.”

Cats. Talking about your fucking cats was apparently the kick in the ass Bucky needed to let almost all his concerns about having anything with you go, letting himself relax and be easy while you told him all these sweet, endearing little things about yourself. How much you loved your niece and how much of a star she was at figure skating. How good you were at baking and you didn’t care what he said, you were baking him a loaf of sourdough to prove it. How you played three different instruments and spoke two languages. You were too goddamn interesting.

And you managed to get him to talk about himself too. How close he was with his sister and mother and how much he loved seeing them as often as possible. How he secretly enjoyed knitting and always made sweaters for the family at Hanukkah but would kill you if you told anyone about his hobby. How he collected old records and could spend whole days just listening to music and drinking good whiskey.

Bucky was more than a little thrilled that you seemed to be hanging on his every word and scooting closer to him until you were right next to him and your shoulders were practically touching.

He had lost track of how many beers he’d consumed by the time people started dancing, but he knew it wasn’t too many as he was just very pleasantly buzzed and staring at your plump, kissable, pillowy lips and wondering what it would be like to suck on them.

“Hey, James.” Bucky had just told you his first name and for some reason the fact that was what you were choosing to call him was making him dizzy. “You wanna dance with me?”

“Oh, um…” Bucky chewed on his lip while he thought it over, he had two left feet when he was sober, and he also wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself if you put your hands on him. “I don’t know…”

“Hey, no pressure.” You winked like you did every time you said something disarming and Bucky decided that he loved that about you. “Just wanted to ask, but if all you want is to talk, that’s a-okay.”

Bucky was struggling with himself. You barely seemed disappointed, it had maybe flashed across your face for a second, but he believed you when you said it was okay. You even leaned back against your chair to give him space, zero hints of malice in your expression and just that perfect, easygoing look that made Bucky feel like you were fine taking no for an answer and you would never hold it against anybody.

And for some reason, that finally sealed it for Bucky that you weren’t him.

“I wanna dance.” Bucky winced when he almost knocked over his bottle when he set it down, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet so he could drag you towards the makeshift dance floor. “Let’s go.”

Your laugh made Bucky beam at you over his shoulder, humming along to the music and turning to face you once you were in the middle of it. His breath caught when you were right there, letting you frame his waist with your hands and pull him even closer while you started rolling your hips to the music. Bucky very quickly decided that he liked having your hands on him, shaking his head and gripping your wrists to keep you in place when you tried to lean back before he slid his palms up your arms and over your chest.

Somehow, even though he knew you were big, your massive size hadn’t fully registered in Bucky’s brain until he was in such close proximity to you. It’s not like Bucky was small by any means, he hit the weights, he never skipped arm day, he’d even been called beefy himself a few times. But you… goddamn. You were like nothing Bucky had ever seen before. He was starting to get woozy from it.

Then you ducked even closer and pressed your cheek against Bucky’s temple and he couldn’t help it, he gasped. He could feel your lips moving against his skin but he couldn’t hear anything you were saying, a low buzzing filling his ears while his fingers dug into your firm chest and he rolled his hips against yours. This was dangerous, he was not going to have sex with you without even a proper date, he wasn’t that easy.

He kept repeating it in his head over and over. When you slipped your arms around his waist and squeezed as you kept guiding his movements. When he buried his face in your neck and groaned when he finally got to breathe in your scent fully. When you nipped at the shell of his ear and made some kind of noise that sent a vibration through Bucky’s whole body. And especially when you grabbed his ass and gave such a dirty grind of your hips that made him feel how fucking hard and massive you really were.

It didn’t matter how much he repeated it though, it only took three songs before Bucky found himself with his back against a stall door in the bathroom with his pants around just one of his ankles and his toes barely brushing the floor while he practically sat on your face.

One of his knees was flung over your shoulder while you licked at his hole, his whole body shivering when you hummed against his skin and dug your fingers into his thighs and he didn’t even care that he was getting eaten out in a public bathroom and enjoying it quite loudly.

“God, I knew you’d be fucking sweet.” You growled but barely pulled back, gripping the thigh that was on your shoulder and pushing it up until it was pressed to Bucky’s side so you could see his face. “You taste so goddamn good, James, once I get you in bed I’m gonna make a full meal out of this ass, shit.”

“Oh… Jesus Christ.” Bucky could barely breathe when your mouth was on his hole again, he could feel your jaw working while you moved your lips and tongue like you were making out with him, all while you kept your intense eye contact and let his cock rest on your face like you didn’t even care. “Oh my fucking god.”

Bucky could feel your chuckle when a whine escaped from his throat without his permission, his eyes rolling when your tongue fluttered all around his twitching skin before you were dragging it over his hole again and sucking until Bucky almost squealed. But then your tongue punched into him and the squeal was ripped out of his chest, his breath heaving almost painfully while you fucked him with the thick muscle until his dick started leaking and twitching against your forehead. It was insane that you were so good at this, you were so young, but your mouth worked like you were a fucking pornstar and it had Bucky feeling some kind of way.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you, James.” It didn’t sound like a question, you were telling him, your face serious while you licked your way up his taint until you could nip at his balls while you slid a finger inside him. “I need it, need to feel you come on my cock, god, you’d better fucking hold it until I’m inside you or I’m gonna spank you, I swear to fucking god.”

“Yeah… yeah, oh my god, please.” Bucky felt like he was losing his mind when you sucked on his balls and pushed a second finger inside him, his legs shaking and his eyes rolling back in his head while he grabbed your hair and held on for dear life. “Oh shit… fuck me, I can hold it, I’ll be good, just fuck me.”

You leaned your cheek against his hip and kept grinning at him while you reached your free hand into your wallet to grab a packet of lube, chuckling when Bucky huffed at you when you ripped it open with your teeth and squirted it all over the fingers you were plunging into his ass.

“You brought lube with you?” Bucky was trying to remain huffy but it was difficult when you were scissoring his hole open so slowly and shit, it felt amazing. “What exactly did you think was going to happen tonight?”

“God, I dunno, James.” You looked meaningfully at the fingers that were currently knuckle deep inside him, wiggling them a little when you looked back up at him with a cocked eyebrow and snorting when he whined. “Would you prefer I didn’t have lube right now? Because I can stop…”

“No, don’t do that.” So much for not trying to seem desperate, Bucky was panting he needed you so bad. “I’m just… talking, I’ll shut up. I can be good.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna be a good boy for me James?” What were you doing to him? Bucky couldn’t help but whimper when you spat on your fingers to slick them up even more and added a third, nodding and rolling his hips into your hand when you just barely teased his sweet spot as you kissed the inside of his thigh. “Yeah you will, my good boy, opening right up for me.”

“Mmhm, yours, oh holy shit.” The addition of your fourth finger turned Bucky’s whole body into jelly, your hold on his thigh the only thing keeping him from crumpling to the floor when you licked a wide, flat stripe up the underside of his cock. “Holy fucking shit, pleasepleaseplease…”

“Shhh, don’t you worry, James, I’ve got you.” You groaned when he let go of your hair to shove his fist in his mouth when he gave you a tortured cry, slowly pulling your fingers out of him and setting his feet on the floor so you could stand. “Turn around for me, sweet thing.”

“Yes… yes sir.” Bucky let his eyes flutter closed when you kissed his temple and turned him around, pressing his cheek against the cool metal and arching his back when you placed one hand on his hip and used the other to pull out a condom. “I need it.”

“I know, handsome.” Your voice was muffled while you used your teeth to rip the wrapper open, nuzzling into the tendrils of hair that were resting against the back of Bucky’s neck so you could kiss him there while you rolled the condom over your length and emptied another packet of lube all over your dick. “You gonna call me sir while I fuck this sweet little ass?”

“Ye-yes… oh fuck!” Bucky practically screamed when your tip just barely slipped inside him, arching his back and whining when you wrapped your arm across his throat and growled in his ear. “Fuck… ‘s big, so big, fuck me.”

“You can take it, big guy, keep being good for me.” You grinned against Bucky’s cheek when he rose on his toes as you kept going, smacking his ass and chuckling when it made him clench as you increased the pressure on his neck. “You feel fucking incredible, Jesus. Been thinking about getting you like this since the first time I saw you, you know that? Did you think about me too, James?”

“N-no.” Bucky already felt extremely vulnerable while he was split open on only half of your cock, he didn’t need to admit to you that he had been dreaming about wrapping his legs around your tiny little waist while you fucked him slow and deep. “I didn’t.”

“Pretty sure you’re a liar.” You grinned and yanked his head back at the same time you gave a final snap of your pelvis and Bucky sobbed, his body shaking violently while you rested your hips against the plush curve of his ass and dragged your tongue along his jaw while you let him adjust. “That’s okay though, big guy, you can think about this. Now, I’m gonna apologize, because this is gonna be a lot faster than I would like, but we are in public.”

Bucky didn’t have any response except a yelp when you started driving your cock into him almost viciously, his breath punched out of his lungs each time your hips bounced off his ass while you sucked on his ear. He felt like he was about to explode, your cock driving into his swollen prostate each time you bottomed out until his balls started pulling tight to his body and his cock twitched. You must have felt the change since you dropped the hand that wasn’t attached to the thick arm that was currently choking him to grab his cock and start stroking him in time with your thrusts.

“Fuckfuckfuck…” Bucky felt like such a whore but he didn’t care, turning his head as much as possible so he could rub his nose against your cheek while he whined. “I’m so close, don’t stop.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want, James.” You groaned when his hole clenched around you, squeezing his cock and his throat at the same time and kissing the corner of his lips tenderly while you gazed into his eyes. “Gonna take care of you. Can’t wait to be able to take my time, enjoy you, god, could spend a whole fucking night in this ass, you’re so goddamn warm and tight. But I need you to come for me right now, James, make a mess on my hand, lemme make you feel good, c’mon.”

The thought of you in his bed and fucking him raw and open had Bucky tumbling over the edge of his climax with a shout, his desperate noises muffled by your lips when you smashed them to his as he quaked in your arms and shot his cum all over your fingers. He sobbed when you didn’t stop stroking him even once he was milked dry, his eyes rolling back when you throbbed inside him and almost lamenting the fact that you were filling the condom instead of pumping your cum deep in his guts and determined to get to the point when he would finally get to feel all of you. As soon as you were done you were bringing your cum soaked fingers to your mouth, keeping eye contact with Bucky as you sucked his cum off them slowly and groaning at his taste then pressing your lips to his again so you could share with him.

“Jesus fuck.” Bucky couldn’t think of anything else to say, smiling almost sheepishly at you after you had pulled out of him and tossed the condom, letting you turn him around and nuzzle at his cheek before you were bending to help him step back into his jeans.

“My sentiments exactly.” You gave him another one of those winks and he wasn’t even mad when he blushed violently. “You gonna be as big of an ass about me taking you on a real date?”

“I wasn’t an ass.” Bucky huffed when you stood back up and wrapped your arms around him, nipping at your bottom lip and grinning when you growled playfully at him. “I was wary.”

“Sure.” You kissed him slow and deep and smiled against his lips when he melted into you before pulling back so he could breathe. “Pretty sure the girls and Sergeant Wilson would agree with my assessment, but we can use your word.”

“Oh shit, they’re still out there.” Bucky screwed his eyes shut and moaned at the thought of the commentary he was going to have to endure, shaking his head when you chuckled and opened the stall door to start pulling him back to the bar. “Can’t we just climb out the window or something?”

“Yeah, I don’t think either of us could fit through that window, James.” You nodded at the tiny one by one glass square and kissed his temple when he sighed defeatedly, holding his hand and letting him follow you when you opened the door. “Besides, if you think I’m not going to enjoy showing you affection in public, I’ve got some bad news.”

Bucky’s retort was cut off by an absurd amount of hollering when you opened the door, his face getting unbearably red and the desire to either tell all of your friends to shut the fuck up or just book it out of the bar overwhelming. But then your arm was around his shoulders and your lips were pressed against his temple, and maybe he could put up with his friends being smug rowdy assholes for the rest of the night if you kept smiling at him like that.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 36: Take Charge

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

“Thank God, you’re staying!”

If I hear those words any longer they will become my motto. The day after Thomas visited me I got calls from everyone asking if I was still in England. Before I know it things are going smoothly as if nothing’s changed. The only reminder of Grace’s absence is when I’ll spot Thomas alone in his office, staring outside the window. I’ll prepare a small tea tray and quietly slip it on his desk before he notices. A small gesture but he’s always quick to thank me when he sees me next.

Today’s bustle seems like any other except there’s a caravan of wagons approaching. I look out the front window to see the Shelby men hopping out and gathering near the barn. Is there something I should be concerned about?

I walk up to the men as one approaches a wild horse. Cautious and quiet. They appear to be in good spirits so that takes away some worry. Thomas isn’t out yet. Finn’s busy talking with Uncle Charlie. Maybe Arthur can tell me what’s going on.

“... Need to lay low once the baby comes.”

His conversation with John makes me gasp. “Linda’s pregnant?”

Arthur turns around with a big grin on his face. “Yes!”

I’m shocked, but in a good way. “Jesus. Between you and John we’ll have kids running everywhere. Congratulations!”

“Thank you. We’re expecting around September. ‘M gonna be a dad! Me, a fucking dad!”

I clap my hands together and praise the sky. “A thousand blessings on you both!”

We all share the same thought. A new baby is what we need now to help chase away the sadness that’s plagued us. And I know Arthur is going to be a wonderful father. 

Footsteps approach and Thomas joins the party. This is strange. He’s carrying a satchel. As if he’s going camping.

“Where are you lot going?” I ask him.

“To the woods, for some hunting.”

I stifle a laugh. “Hunting? You’re joking.”

“I’m not joking,” Thomas replies and I follow him inside the barn.

“I didn’t think you’d be willing to get your hands dirty with something like that.”

Thomas leads his black steed out of the stall. “Kill a deer, kill a man. Same thing.” He pauses for a minute. “Ever heard of the Mickey Free? ‘S a bar in Boston.”

This question is out of the blue. “No. Why?”

Thomas looks to see we’re alone and leans in. “Don’t tell the others yet, but our dad just died there.”

Arthur Shelby Senior. Dead. In whatever manner of way he died I can’t gather too much sympathy for this news. He, like many others must, assumed I was playing into the Shelby charm of lust. How am I supposed to feel sorry for that? Thank God Thomas cast him out and defended my integrity.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I finally respond.

“No need, I know you didn’t like him,” Thomas waves it off. “This hunt is to remember him, and forget him. Now you, Verena, are going back to Watery Lane before Ada accuses me of keeping you captive.”

Now it’s my turn to wave off his concern. “Oh it’s no trouble. It’s been a tad isolating but the country is a nice change from the city.”

From looking at the side of his face I see that Thomas agrees; but there’s something else he’s thinking of when I say that. Maybe he thinks he’ll never be able to truly relax while he's away from Birmingham. He mounts the steed and joins the parade of horses trotting into the woods. I give them all a wave goodbye just as they disappear behind the trees. A small men’s holiday might be just what they need.

Same filthy streets, same stuffy air. The car sent to pick me up drops me off outside the Shelby household. The driver says nothing, only helping to carry my suitcase to the door. Without the Shelbys here it feels less exciting. More empty. Once inside an unnatural silence drapes the atmosphere, that is until I hear heels clicking down the hall.

“Verena?” Polly sticks her head around the corner. “Tommy finally let you out of that place.”

I start to tell her I was there on my own free will but something about her seems off. She looks nervous. And tired. As if she’s been thinking too much. I’ve been so busy keeping watch over Thomas’ mourning that I didn’t think about reaching out to others. 

“What can I help with, Polly?” It’s a loaded question.

The older woman looks away shaking her head and walks towards the door. Is there something I should know about?

“Polly, where are you going?”

“Confession. At the church.”

“Should I come-?”

“No,” she sharply cuts me off. “I need to do this alone. Go help in the office.”

I try to follow her. “Polly, please. You don’t look well-”

Polly holds up a hand to stop me just as she shuts the door. “Do as you’re told.”

If she- But I- Oh. Okay. I can help with some paperwork. But honestly the thought of being stuck at a desk all day doesn’t seem as fetching. 

“‘S not fair,” Esme whines for the fifth time.

I was right. This is awful. I’ve been here an hour and both Lizzy and Esme are in no mood for pleasant discussion. Now I see why John was so eager to go on the trip. Esme’s current pregnancy is making her grouchy and sensitive. The only thing keeping her settled are her frequent whiffs of cocaine. And to top it off,  Lizzy’s still cross from my interactions with Thomas.

“They’re off drinking and shooting rifles as we sit here,” Esme complains. “Listening to the mugs swearing, spitting on the bloody floor for us to fucking wipe up! Without men here they’d be like dogs pissing up the wall.”

Just then the door opens and Polly walks in. I can’t tell if her stress has depleted or not. The good news is that she doesn’t want any of Esme’s attitude either.

“Esme, just… Get on with it.”

Esme groans and sniffs up more cocaine. “I’m bloody five months gone!”

I follow Polly to the safe and try to ask gently. “Polly? Do you feel better?”

She ignores me and leans her head against the safe. “Forgot the combination.”

“24-8-22,” Lizzie calls.

Polly’s just as puzzled as I am. “How’d you know?”

“Tommy talks in his sleep,” Esme pokes at her.

“Shut up, Esme,” Lizzy mutters.

Wait. Does that mean-?

Polly groans again. “He’s changed it.”

Lizzie gets up and starts fiddling with the dial. “You’ve put it in wrong.”

“No I haven’t,” Polly argues.

I step out of their way and go back to the table. This is it? Listening to them squabble while all the men are away? I actually was happier at Arrow House.

“I have been sleeping with Tommy,” Lizzie mentions. “Every now and then, when the mood takes him. Happy?”

No. I most certainly am not. I was right. While Thomas comes to me for empathetic consultations, he still doesn’t initiate physical emotions. Is May right? Does he think I’m too fragile?

“None of it’s fucking fair.” We know, Esme!

Knock knock.

Wonderful. Now who’s adding to the meeting of misery?

Linda opens the door with a bright smile on her face. “It’s me! Arthur said you’d be short-staffed today.”

She is so out of her normal standards. Linda walks around and practically scoffs at the illegal business. Her comments of purity against the company go ignored by the others. That’s it, I’m out. I’m already dealing with Lizzie’s comment. I don’t need this either.

I take an Irish goodbye and excuse myself back to the house. It may be lonely in the kitchen but at least the chicken I cook doesn’t squawk like those women do. I don’t know when the Shelbys will be back but that doesn’t mean I can’t fix a nice dinner for myself. Maybe I’ll call Ada and see if she wants company-

“There you are!” Linda walks in. “You’re coming too.”

I go back to washing dishes, uninterested. “Where?”

She comes up and slings an arm around mine, leading me away. “To the Bull Ring.”

I gawk at her bluntness. “Why?”

“To strike.”

I’m still confused. “For…?”

“Female workers’ rights. Come on, you of all people should appreciate this! You Americans had to go through tons to get the right to vote.”

“There’s a bit more to it than that-”

“Let’s go!”

She drags me out into the street to join the line of women workers marching towards the strike.

Something tells me I should go. Not for the extreme feminist cause but to be sure that no one gets hurt. Polly’s wild look in her eyes tells me her stress has melted into ambition. 

“Revolution! Now!”

I attempt to quiet her. “Polly, please! Calm down-”

“No I will not fucking calm down! We’ve been through this shit for too long!”

“Hallelujah!” Esme yells.

I knew coming back wasn’t such a grand idea.

The following morning Polly leans back in a kitchen chair with a cloth over her eyes. Clearly in a hangover. For three hours yesterday they shouted and raged against the male patriarchy. It didn’t help when people started passing around spirits.

Thud.

The front door closes and I hurry over to see if my suspicions are correct. Sure enough, Thomas is back. Maybe the fresh air did him some good.

“Morning, Thomas. About Polly- I tried to keep her safe.”

He takes a puff on his cigarette. “The strike?”

“Yes. It reminded me of women’s marches back home, but ours were a tad more civilized if you can believe it.”

He walks straight past towards where Polly and Lizzie are sitting.

“I heard you were giving speeches off the back of a wagon, Pol.”

She doesn’t move. “I can’t remember a fucking thing.”

“Well, Moss tells me you were threatening to burn down the town hall.” Thomas looks back at me. “Verena, will you please give us a moment alone?”

I have to keep my smile from falling. What? Is he upset with me? Does he think I’ll start ranting about freedom like a typical American?

“Of course, sir.”

Don’t show them disappointment. It’ll only give Linda and Lizzie more teasing ammunition against me. I retreat back to the parlor and set to dusting shelves. If I could slip out I’d properly dispose of my anger by swatting a broom against the alley wall. What am I supposed to do if you never let me in, Thomas?

“What are you doing?” 

Must have been a quick ‘moment.’ I thought for sure he’d call for Lizzie to- No. Stop right there, Steenstra. Jealousy never gets someone anywhere.

“Cleaning,” I say, keeping my face directed away from Thomas. 

“You know we can hire people to do that, right?”

I hum softly and continue wiping off the dirt. “I am hired help.”

“No. You’re not a maid, Verena. You keep us sane.” Thomas slumps into the lounge chair and runs a hand through his hair. “Fucking Russians. You will not believe the shit I went through last night.”

Again with the Russians. I warned him.

“Did the duchess try to kill you?”

Thomas rolls his eyes and glares at the wall. “Walked around practically naked in the dead of night, pointing a gun everywhere and demanding that poor Mary watches us fuck.”

My hand freezes and I slowly turn to look at him. “Y-You didn’t-?”

“No!” He quickly answers. “She- Please, please recite something clever.”

Clever? Is he using me just for my wit now? “Um- Alright. Sometimes life is like carving an apple.” Thomas’ stressed face changes to one of surprisement but I keep going. “When you find an apple with a brown spot you cut it out, right? It’s the same situation with people. We cut out the worst parts of ourselves to get along with one another.”

He thinks for a minute. “So you’re saying I should cut myself out? Just how much, eh?”

“What? No! Why would-?”

“Not everyone sees the good in people like you do, Verena.” Thomas pulls out a cigarette and stands up. “Never stop, love. Thanks by the way for keeping a watch on Polly.”

I offer a smile. “No problem. I might stop by later to see Charlie.”

The mention of his son immediately makes Thomas relax. “Right, Charlie. It’ll be nice to get some time with him. Do you need me to drive you?”

“No, no. I’ll manage. I’ve got some letters to mail first. My moeder goes crazy if I stay out of contact for more than a week.”

Thomas nods and walks out towards the door. We both know family comes first. As for his predicament with Duchess Tatiana Petrovna… It’s not my business but isn’t it a bit early to be courting after Grace’s funeral? Is this situation even a courtship at all? It doesn’t sound like Thomas initiated it. Curious, considering it’s usually the woman falling into his bed rather than her roping him in. Perhaps it’s a taste of his own medicine.

From the outside Arrow House looks as empty as before. What’s different this time is the friendly sight of Charlie and his nanny waving at me through the top window. Thomas’ car is here but there’s no sign of him at the door. Maybe he’s with the horses. I let myself in and the housekeeper immediately appears.

“Hello again, Mary. I’m here to check on Charlie.”

“Of course, Ms. Steenstra.” She leaves me to it and mutters something along the lines of “…More behaved than that other woman…”

Other woman? Who else has Thomas brought over? Does she mean the duchess? 

Instead of marching up the stairs I take a detour into the dining room, taking a seat at the head chair. The glorious portrait still hangs but instead of portraying confident power the painting resembles a man who has nothing but his horses. A lonely man.

Click click click.

“Bold of you to sit on a king’s throne.”

There she is. Duchess Tatiana Petrovna herself. That’s who poor Mary was talking about. There’s no question about her obvious beauty and she knows it. She looks down at my two hair braids with amusement. What is she here for? And is she talking about my seating choice? I meant no disrespect when I chose it.

I look down at where I’m sitting and back to her. “…It’s a chair.”

Thomas walks up behind her and sees where she’s looking. “That’s my chair. ‘S alright, you can-”

“It’s his chair,” the duchess states. “Move.”

Is she serious? Stay calm, Steenstra. You’ll only provoke her.

“It’s still just a chair, miss. He says I can sit in it.”

Her narrowed gaze doesn’t falter. “Move.”

I keep the same cool tone. “No.”

“Or else you will be moved.”

A hint of American attitude makes my face twitch into a look that dares her to continue. “Try me, duchess.”

Her jaw drops and Thomas steps forward trying to calm the storm. “Ladies, please. Mary, could we please get some tea?”

The duchess ignores his attempt and keeps looking at me. “He is your boss. You need to respect-”

“I respect Mr. Shelby just fine,” I respond evenly. “It’s you who’s out of place. You are a guest at Arrow House. I suggest you treat your host with respect. Good day.”

She resumes her stunned silence as I stand up and strut past them. Behind me I can already hear the complaining.

“…Let her speak to a Duchess like that?” she asks.

“You have your ways, the Americans have theirs. I don’t interfere.”

Just because she’s a rich duchess sleeping with him doesn’t mean she can order us around with an iron fist. I climb the stairs to Charlie’s room trying to clear the grudge from my thoughts. The bedroom door opens and the nanny steps out.

“He’s asking for his father. Shall I go fetch him?”

“Oh, no. I just saw Mr. Shelby downstairs. I’ll go get him.”

I pivot back to the stairs despite the internal urge to be as far away from the Russian royal as possible. Stay strong. It’s for Charlie. And if she wants to get on my nerves then she’ll face the bull head-on.

I see the couple walking down the hall. “Thomas! Charlie wants you.”

The gangster leader excuses himself and jogs past me, giving me a grateful nod. I take a deep breath and finish descending the stairs to where the duchess is. Time to set things straight.

“What are you doing?” 

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask in a low but demanding voice. “The poor man just lost his wife and you’re playing him like a bitch in heat!”

She doesn’t flinch. “Grief can take many forms.”

Not Thomas. This isn’t how he grieves. He likes to be alone. 

I signal for the housekeeper. “Mary, may I please have some whiskey?”

She notices my situation and nods. “Of course, Ms. Steenstra.”

But the duchess isn’t satisfied with my request. “Why ask? Demand it! She will have-”

My face flinches to look at her with murderous eyes. “Get out. Go.”

Her jaw drops. “This is not your house-”

“Then get the fuck away from me before I do something regretful.”

Now she smirks at my temper. “Are Americans this rude?”

My fists clench. “Americans do not look down to people who are not wealthy or of royal blood.”

“There’s fire in your eyes but you tame it. Could you kill me? Would you kill for love?”

“Murder for selfish intentions is not something I will stain myself with,” I state harshly and notice Thomas returning from Charlie’s room. “Excuse me, Thomas.”

Before he can respond I rush back to the door. I don’t wait to hear any more. How can he stand this woman? Lizzie is one thing but at least she gives me a fraction of respect. Petrovna only sees me as nothing but a tourist servant. As much as I was looking forward to seeing Charlie I will not be stable as long as that woman is around. 

Foreign relations consultant, indeed. I will stand my ground. No more waiting. It’s time to take charge for a change and bring my own tricks of the trade to the table.

@meadows5

[bijouxcarys]

𝑻𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒏𝒅 (𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝑶𝑪) - 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒐

Masterlist

Character Profiles/Face Claims

Playlist

A/N: I can't say I'm overly happy with this chapter, but I rewrote it a gazillion times. I hope it's okay, and it's a good healthy dose of The Bloodline in their natural habitats lol. Also, I would just like to thank everyone for the support on the first chapter. Makes me feel all mushy inside gah. <3

Tags: @trippinsorrows @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup

(let me know if you want to be tagged in future Roman fics)

Some may call it a mansion. To Roman, it was simply home. He never understood why having a large house, albeit accommodating necessary facilities, constituted being pompous. When he first bought the house, he knew his family would be joining him, so why not go all out? A gym, a shooting range, a pool… it had everything he needed to continue being the Head of the Table.

He pushed open the heavy mahogany doors, the familiar creak announcing their arrival. The grandeur was unmistakable—high ceilings, oak chandeliers, adorned walls with art he’d brought with him from the family’s storage unit back in Florida.

The twins flanked Roman, their almost identical features set in pure fatigue, as their younger brother brought up the rear. Jimmy dropped his tie and jacket onto the marble-tiled floor. “Man, I thought that shit would never end.”

Jey followed suit, collapsing onto a plush leather couch once the group entered the living space. “Tell me about it. These events are always the same, just a bunch of wannabes tryna impress.”

Roman loosened his tie, heading straight for the bar that lined the back of the room. “Yeah, but it’s necessary. We gotta show face, let ‘em know we still run things.”

Jey glanced at Jimmy with a raised eyebrow, before turning his head to look back at his cousin. “We ain’t run shit tonight. You see the Russians were there? They run this shit, Uce.”

“For now,” Solo added, wandering over to one of the windows that overlooked the sprawling greenery of the estate’s garden.

“Whatchu talkin’ ‘bout “for now”, man, they shady as fuck,” Jey insisted with a small “pshh,” throwing his hands up. “I don’t trust ‘em, never have, never will.”

“Nah, Solo’s right,” Roman pointed out, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “They can’t be in charge forever. Besides…” he took a sip, the amber liquid burning his throat in a familiar, comforting way, “Their family ain’t as big as it used to be. If anythin’, we got numbers. But right now, we ain’t got a problem with ‘em.”

“And that means they ain’t got a problem with us? C’mon, man–”

“Jey,” Roman interrupted, lowering his glass and veering over to where his cousins lounged. “There’s no problem between us and the Volkovs right now. And I intend to keep it that way.” His words were carefully emphasised, dropping the lax cadence for one of assertion. “So if you don’t mind,” he loosened the tension in his shoulders, rolling them once, “I’m gonna go call my babygirl.”

“Ah, tell her I said hi,” Jimmy quickly got in before Roman could leave for the staircase.

“And me!” Jey leaned over the back of the couch.

Roman sighed lightly, turning on his heel to look at the twins, and then over at Solo, who still has his gaze fixated outside.

“Him too,” Jey spoke for Solo, the latter sending him a sideways glance and eventually looking at Roman with a small nod of confirmation.

“It’s like livin’ with a bunch of kids, seriously…” Roman muttered as he turned and headed upstairs to his office, all whilst hearing the usual discourse from Jey about being hungry and neglecting to ask if anyone else wanted something as he strolled off into the kitchen.

Once the door to his office was shut, Roman took a moment to take a deep breath, closing his eyes, and letting it all back out, feeling every ounce of strain leave his body in the process. Hey, he needed it to make room for the other strain in his life to take its place.

He pulled out his phone and checked the time—just early enough to risk a call without Maria causing a fuss.

So, he dialled the number he so wished didn’t have such an important place in his seemingly endless list of contacts, hoping the only person he wanted to talk to was still awake. And that he didn’t need to have a ridiculous back and forth with the owner of said number.

Thankfully, Maria must have known the reason for Roman’s call, so when the FaceTime ringtone cut out, it was replaced with a small, sleepy voice. “Daddy?”

Roman’s face softened instantly, a rare smile spreading across his lips. “Hey, Princess. You still up?”

Ava nodded, her eyes heavy and on the verge of unintentionally closing. “I wanted to wait for you to come home.”

“I’m here now, baby… How was your day?” Roman asked, settling into an armchair.

“It was okay. Mommy let me watch a movie, but I missed you…”

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” Roman felt his heart aching with the guilt he possessed for not always being there to see his daughter enjoy her childhood. “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

Ava’s face brightened the best it could in her sleepiness, yawning as she spoke the words Roman could never get enough of. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you more, Ava. And so does your Uncle Jimmy. And Jey. And Solo. You are loved so much, Princess, and don’t you ever forget it.”

It was impossible to miss Ava’s subtle glance to the side, signalling that she wasn’t alone.

“Mommy wants me to go to bed now, Daddy.”

“She’s right, baby. Can’t be havin’ you all tired at school tomorrow, can we?”

“No,” Ava replied with a small, but sad smile.

“You get some sleep now… And pass the phone to Mommy for me, baby.”

“Okay… Goodnight, Daddy.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

There was a lot of shuffling on the other end, and for a moment a black screen as Ava passed the phone back to Maria. Roman’s features were already hardening again, knowing what was coming next. It was almost instantly that his stomach twisted in disdain once the face of his ex-wife appeared on the screen. She was retreating from Ava’s bedroom to find a place that didn’t disturb the 6-year-old.

“Roman,” Maria’s voice was cool and clipped.

“Maria,” Roman replied, trying to keep his tone neutral. “We need to talk about Ava.”

“Oh, now you wanna talk about her? Convenient.”

Roman rubbed at his temples, already feeling the headache coming on. “Maria, this isn’t about us. It’s about our daughter.”

“Is it? Because it feels like you’re trying to undermine my parenting every chance you get.”

“I’m not undermining shit, I just want to be more involved.”

“Well, flying off to meetings and dealing with your ‘business’ isn’t exactly father of the year material.”

“Don’t start this crap, Maria, you know I’m doin’ my best.”

“Your best? Your best would be staying out of trouble and being there for her.”

Roman’s jaw tightened. “I am there for her. You’re the one makin’ it difficult.”

“Oh, please, spare me the victim routine, Reigns. You’ve never been there when it counted.”

“That’s not fair,” Roman snapped, his patience wearing thin. “I’ve always done what I could.”

“What you could? Roman, what you could was never enough. You’re too wrapped up in your own world to see what’s right in front of you!”

He closed his eyes, trying to rein in his temper. “And I’m trying to change that. I want to be better for my babygirl.”

“Then let’s start by respecting the fact that she needs stability. Not the chaos that follows you everywhere.”

“I am stable, Maria. My life, my work—it’s all under control.”

“Is it? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, it looks like a fucking mess.”

Roman gripped the arm of the chair, his knuckles whitening. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ ‘bout.”

“Aw, don’t I? I lived that life with you, stronzo, I know exactly what’s going on.”

Hell, here come the Italian insults…

“Then you should already know that I’m doin’ everythin’ I can to keep that little girl safe! Damn.”

“Actions speak louder than words. And your actions? They’re not convincing anyone. Least of all me. So,” her voice switched to a sickly, patronising sweetness, “If you want to continue seeing your “babygirl,” you’ll get your head outta your ass and do something about it. We could start by respecting the mother of your child, how ‘bout that one?”

“Respecting the mother of my child?” Roman repeated sarcastically. “I do respect you, but respect goes both ways. You gotta respect that I’m her father and I want to be in her life.”

“Oh, really? Is that what you call it?” Maria snapped back, her eyes narrowing on the screen. “All you do is throw money at her and expect that to make up for your absence. She needs a father, not a fucking ATM.”

“I’m more than that, and you know it. I’m tryin’, Maria. But you make it impossible. You twist everything I do into something negative.”

Maria let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You think this is about me twisting things? Nah, this is about you being a shitty father. You’re never there. You’re too busy playing the big shot, running your little empire, while Ava is left wondering why her daddy doesn’t care enough to be there.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Roman’s voice rose. “I love Ava more than anything. I’m doin’ all this for her. To make sure she has everything she needs!”

“Love? You call this love?” Maria shot back, her voice icy. “Love is being there, showing up, and not just when it’s convenient for you. You think you can just waltz in and out of her life as you please, and everything will be fine?”

“I fuckin’ balancing shit! Work, responsibilities, bein’ a father—this shit ain’t a fuckin’ walk in the park!”

“Oh, poor you,” Maria sneered in contempt. “Must be so hard, being the big boss. But guess what, Roman? Ava doesn’t care about your business. She cares about her daddy. The daddy that keeps letting her down. You think a few phone calls and visits are enough to make up for all the times you weren’t there? Buying her love? Doesn’t work.”

“I know that,” he replied, softly and with a tinge of desperation. “And I told you I’m doin’ everything I can to make it work.”

“No, you’re doing everything you can to make yourself feel better. To ease your guilt. But it’s not about you, it’s about Ava. Until you realise that, you’re never going to be the father she needs.”

“I ain’t givin’ up on that girl, Maria, you can believe that. You can’t keep using her to punish me.”

Maria’s eyes flashed with anger. “Punish you? This isn’t about punishing you, you narcissistic asshole. I’m protecting my daughter from her father and his dangerous life. I’m giving her stability, which is something you will never be able to provide.”

Roman was tempted to just end the call and carry on with his night. His ex-wife’s voice ran straight through him like an airhorn. There was a reason he couldn’t stand the woman to begin with, and that was it. He just didn’t realise how fucking psychotic she’d end up being, and that the voice was just the tip of the iceberg.

“You think I’m dangerous?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one filling her head with lies, turning her against me every chance you get.”

“Lies?! The only lies here are the ones you tell yourself. That you’re a good father, that you’ll be there for her, that she’s the only thing that matters… You’re pathetic, Roman…”

Rolling his eyes, he had no choice but to take in insult after insult. Who knew what she’d do if he did just hang up on her? It would just add ammunition to her already extensive list of why he was no good as a dad. Or a man, for that matter.

“You either need to cut the crap, or stay out of her life for good so I can find someone who’s more of a man, more of a father, than you.”

“You ain’t bringin’ no man around my little girl, tu puttana,” Roman growled, jaw tight and nose flared as he sat forward, bringing his face closer to the screen. 

“Or what?” Maria smirked. “You gonna send Dumb and Dumber to take him out? You gonna send some other poor, sad subject to take a little girl’s daddy away? Better yet, you gonna come up here yourself? Is that what it’s gonna take, Roman? You’d rather show up to kill someone than to see your child.” She scoffed. “Don’t think for a second I won’t reverse that shared custody bullshit that we don’t use anyway. And don’t think for a second… that I can’t keep her from you. One word from me to CPS, and she’s mine.”

Okay, this bitch had stooped low before. But this? This was a whole other level of fucked up that even she hadn’t reached in the years he’d known her. She’d attacked his character, his business, his past, his present, his family—fuck, she even went as far as criticising him in bed. When she fully knew a single night with him made any bitch wobbly for the next few days.

This? A threat born of pure, unbridled hatred and malice, to legally stop him from seeing his own flesh and blood? Nothing cut him deeper.

But what was he to do? Return the threat? Give her a valid reason to complain to CPS, or the fucking authorities? She fucking wished.

Well, at least he had the authorities in New York right in the palm of his hand. He could handle that. Florida was a whole other ball game.

“This conversation isn’t going anywhere, Maria, I think you should hang up now, don’t you?” Roman forced himself to calmly request, his knee bouncing up and down from the agitation. And the smile on this woman’s face did nothing to help; the smile that indicated her arrogance. The sheer knowledge that she was in charge of this dynamic. She held the power over him when it came to Ava, and it would take a miracle to have that change.

“I’m inclined to agree. Sort your shit out. Goodbye, Roman.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving Roman staring at the blank screen. He lowered his head into his hand, rubbing at his temples once again. He knew Maria was right, to some extent. Of course, his line of work meant he wasn’t around as much as he would have liked to be, or should have been. But it was never as simple as she made it out to be.

It seemed the longer he stayed in his office, the more the conversation replayed in his mind, every word cutting deeper each time. He needed to figure this out. He needed some kind of balance. Or risk losing Ava. 

He needed to vent, to get all this pent-up anger out before it completely consumed him to the point of no return. With a deep sigh, he stood up, stretching out his back and rolling his head both ways to release some of the tension.

Figuring some shit-talking and mild relaxation would distract him enough, he made his way back downstairs and to the living room, where Jimmy and Solo were still lounging around, looking up as he entered.

“You good, Uce?” Jimmy asked, a wary look in his eyes.

“Just had a call with the she-devil,” Roman bitterly replied, snarling slightly. “Doin’ her usual routine. Tryna make me feel like shit for not bein’ there enough.”

Jimmy shook his head, leaning back on the couch. “She’s always got somethin’ to say, huh? You’re doin’ your best, man, don’t let her get to you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard not to when she’s constantly using an innocent 6-year-old to get what she wants,” Roman huffed, grabbing a glass to pour himself another drink. “Actin’ like I’m the worst father in the world.”

“Ay, man, that ain’t true,” Solo chimed in, looking over his shoulder. “You know Ava loves you.”

“I just hate that she knows exactly how to push my buttons.” He swigged back the entirety of his amber liquid at once.

“Of course she does,” Jimmy said with a smirk. “She’s your ex for a reason. Knows all your weak spots.”

Roman couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Yeah, and she ain’t afraid to use ‘em, either.”

The three of them fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation still hanging in the air. Roman took another sip of his drink, letting the alcohol soothe his frayed nerves.

“So, we got the drop-off with The Judgement Day tomorrow,” Jimmy said, shifting the conversation. “We need to be on our A-game.”

“Yeah, we can’t afford any mistakes,” Roman agreed, settling himself into one of the chairs, reclining back and staring up at the ceiling. “It’s a big score for us. We need to be rested and alert.”

“We got this,” Solo affirmed with a nod. “We’ve handled worse.”

The Head of the Table nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie with his cousins. They had been through a lot together, and he trusted them with his life.

Just then, Jey entered, his usual swagger in place. “Whassup, fellas? What’d I miss?”

“Just talkin’ about the drop-off tomorrow,” Jimmy replied, motioning for Jey to join them. “And Roman’s usual bullshit with Maria.”

Jey rolled his eyes with a loud groan as he plopped down on the couch next to Jimmy. “Man, she’s always gotta be causing trouble, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” Roman muttered, shaking his head. “Anyway…” he trailed off, trying to come up with something to talk about that wasn’t overly depressing as fuck. “That event, huh? That was some, uh…”

“White people shit,” Jey finished his sentence.

“Ay, I’m not sure you’d class the Russians as white, Uce, they’re Asian,” Jimmy leaned back, sending his brother a pointed look.

Roman raised an eyebrow, pulling his head up to look at Jimmy. But Jey took the words right out of his mouth before he could think about uttering them.

“Nah, they ain’t Asian, man, what the fuck?”

“They ain’t Asian?”

“European, right?” Solo joined in.

“Imma squash this right now,” Jimmy straightened his posture, looking straight ahead of him. “Russia borders with Asia, so they Asian!” He emphasised each point with exaggerated hand movements.

“Bitch, they also border fuckin’ Europe. What’s the matter witchu, man?” Jey swatted the back of Jey’s head.

“Oh, okay then, let’s ask our Tribal Chief over here,” Jimmy clapped, gesturing over at Roman.

“What do I look like, your fuckin’ geography teacher or somethin’? The fuck outta here, man…” Roman shook his head, scrunching up his eyebrows.

“You got a phone, use it, and shut up,” Jimmy pointed to the phone sitting in Jey’s lap. “Find out where fuckin’ Russia is.”

Roman snickered, running his hands over his face. “Either way, tone down the shit-talkin’ on the Russians, ‘kay? I told your ass we ain’t got a problem with ‘em. They could be fuckin’ blue for all I care, we good with ‘em right now.”

“Uh, I have been meaning to ask you, Uce,” Jey started as he typed away into Google. “That blonde you were with tonight. That tan was fake, right?”

“Very.” Roman didn’t even hesitate the response. He’d hit the nail on the head.

“She was somethin’ else, though, fake tan or not.”

Roman laughed, the tension finally starting to ease within. “She was a piece of work, just a way to kill time. Nothin’ serious about her.”

“She didn’t seem like the nicest person, not gonna lie,” Solo commented, watching Jey’s phone as he did.

“She’s not,” Roman admitted, stretching his legs out and resting his hands in his lap. “Clingy as hell and fake as they come. But she was free tonight, so I figured why not?”

Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, you always attract the crazies.”

“It’s a gift,” Roman replied with a smirk. “But seriously, she’s just a distraction. Nothin’ more.”

“Ay, as long as you can handle ‘em in bed, am I right, Uce?” Jey peered up from his phone.

“Damn straight,” his smirk turned into a full grin. “It’s about knowin’ what they want and how to give it to ‘em… You make ‘em feel real good, they be runnin’ back for more.”

Jimmy cackled. “Oh, we goin’ there tonight?”

“It’s both!” Jey shouted, lifting up his phone as if everyone could read what the hell was on the screen.

“The fuck you talking bout, man?” Roman asked in exasperation.

“Russia is technically in both Europe and Asia…” Jey trailed off. The other three just sat there staring at him, waiting for him to say something else. “Anyway, tell us how you nail a bitch, Chief,” he casually continued, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

“I swear, you gotta get checked out, Uce, somethin’ ain’t right up there,” Jimmy mumbled.

“Now that we’ve established where everything is in the world, do you wanna hear what I have to say or not?” Roman asked, a knowing smirk on his face. Yeah, his cousins were fully grown men, but man… when it came to experience, nobody could even touch the Head of the Table.

Jimmy leaned forward, clearly more interested in this topic than the topic of where the hell Russia is. “Alright, hit us wit’ it.”

Looking down at his lap, Roman teased the moment, reigning in all the knowledge he’d gathered over the years. He loved the silent tension. Loved making people wait. Which led him to step one.

“You gotta be confident,” he started. “Women can smell insecurity a mile away. When you with her, make sure she knows you in control. Lead, don’t follow.”

Jey nodded, clearly taking mental notes.

“Pay attention to her reactions,” Roman continued. “When you’re kissin’ her, touchin’ her, whatever… Watch how she responds. If she likes somethin’, then you keep on doin’ it. If she doesn’t, switch it up.” He breathed in, momentarily remembering the night he shared with Ms Fake Tan the other week. Running a hand over his beard. “It’s all about readin’ her body.”

Up until now, Solo had been quietly listening, as he did with most things. “What about the actual thing? You got a go-to move, Uce?”

Chuckling, Roman leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It ain’t about havin’ a go-to move, Solo. It’s about variety. You can’t keep doin’ the same thing every night, over and over again. Keep it fresh, keep it exciting. Surprise her.”

Jimmy grinned ear to ear like a schoolboy, enjoying the conversation. “Man, I remember the first time I switched things up with Trin—she was all about that shit.”

“Exactly,” Roman drawled, fist-bumping his cousin. “Keep ‘em on their toes. Make ‘em want more… That’s how you keep ‘em hooked.”

Jey leaned back, a satisfied look on his face. “Man, I need to find me a girl who appreciates that. Most of the ones I’ve been with just want the flashy stuff.”

“They’re out there,” Solo added. “You just gotta look in the right places.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jey waved him off. “Easier said than done.”

As the night wore on, they eventually started to wind down, the weight of tomorrow’s task looming over them

“We should get some sleep,” Roman declared, standing up with a small grunt and stretching. “We need to be sharp for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you right,” Jimmy agreed, following suit. “We’ll handle it, Uce. Don’t worry.”

“I know we will,” he clapped Jimmy on the shoulder. “G’night, guys. Get some rest.”

“Night, Chief,” Jey bid him a goodbye, exchanging fist bumps. “We got this shit.”

[sucrealacreme]

Supe Busters - Soldier Boy x female reader

Chapter three

Summary : Vought has many secrets, project W is one of them. What happens when said project turns against them?

I've always hated liars. If used to baffle me how people could lie. A lie could ruin someone planned life, give them an unwanted direction. How could any living and breathing humans do that? Without liars, society would be thriving and jolly and happy like a Christmas song. But, a lie goes a long way, but it never goes as long as the truth. Where the truth will be revealed, the lie will end. So why not just tell what oughts to be told in the future? My mom always told me one thing. Liars will dig and scratch every ounces of love they can get like a dehydrated man in the middle of the desert. While the truth tellers don't have to seek it, since by their truth they shall receive love.

So when I started to suspect Evangeline behavior, it was like a knife to the hearth. Not a well sharpened one. No, one with a rusty, dull and hot blade. A blade so painful it could make Homelander kneel. She was almost like this wise aunt to me. The one you go to when you have problems you cannot find a way out of. Those that will never give you an answer but instead make you think of one. 

Evangeline was one of the community pillar. For crying out loud, she was in charge of it. But I couldn’t be fooled anymore. No, not after what Florence told me.

Flash-back

Florence was roaming around the base, not looking for anything except her own deep thoughts. She was near Evangeline's office when she first heard of her true self. 

“Who am I speaking to?” Florence couldn't help but spy on the conversation. It was too tempting and it couldn't be anything embarrassing knowing Evangeline.

“Oh Miss Garcia what a pleasure, how can I help you” Miss Garcia? Who was that? What's happening??

“You want to discuss an issue with the chips? What issue? Everything seems fine” Alright now Florence was just getting pranked. Chips? As in lays chips? No it couldn't be that. Think Florence think…

“Well if they don't detonate anymore I do not see how it's my problem. After all I can't go around telling everyone they need brain surgery. I mean it could compromise the entire job we've been doing wi- “ Evangeline suddenly stopped talking. 

“I'm going to call you back, I have to take care of something.” Florence hearth stopped. Did she knew she was spying on her? Oh Jesus, she couldn't hide from someone with x-Ray vision. Oh. 

But she could trick them with a little light show. Florence bended and bended the light waves around her so she could blend in with the background. 

“I know you're there. I can not see you nor know who you are but I can feel your presence. I know you heard me so I'm going to tell you what's gonna happen. You'll close your mouth and not utter a single word about this exchange. And if you do voices those things, I will not hesitate in targeting you. Think about it, who would trust a nasty, pale and cheap knock Off of a supe over me, the Guardian of Illusion. Don't make something you'll regret dear.”

Ben entered the warehouse with his usual frowned and grumpy face. He was rarely happy. Always grunting and mumbling old slangs like a caveman. But it was worse this day. For fuck's sake today was supposed to be his day off. His plans were just smoking some green, a couple beers and one or two women in his bed. Fucking dream if you ask him.

But no, Butcher with his cock vacuum “absolutely needed him”. Urgh, what a bunch of pussies. Except the british. No that man wasn't as worse as the cum guzzler. Anyway, he just add to move a door, make a deal and then he could go around fucking women.

Hughie was still hiding when he saw Y/n and Florence enter by another door. Oh fuck Annie would be killing him. Of course that wasn't the fucking door dumbass, he told himself. They're supposed to be hiding of course their door isn’t out for the world to see. Him alongside the two other men slowly got out from underneath the shelves. The door had closed minutes ago with aloud bang and creaks. They should really oil those doors.

Soldier Boy alongside Annie and Kimiko entered the warehouse suddenly, scaring Hughie to death.

“Alright where's the god damn door” the old man asked, a joint at his mouth.

“Well we thought it was that one but now-” Hughie was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

“Are you sure of what you heard? I mean maybe they really were talking about potato chips and not electric-” Y/n widened her eyes in disbelief.

“What- Oh my fucking god.”

“Ah bloody hell…” Butcher hated the whole world at that moment. Hughie, M.M, Annie, everyone really. 

“Now who the hell are you?” Y/n was starting to sweat and apparently she wasn't the only one. The french one who seemed to be a hybrid between a human and a meerkat. God he reaked. Could probably empty out a whole stadium with that thing jesus. It seemed like she made a face when she looked at him because now he took a step forward.

“Tu regardes quoi saloperie” he said with an offended face. Oh he thinks he’s the only one who speaks french?

“Toi sale batard qui d’autre” Y/n was now taking a step forward too, ready to attack incase he acts like well, a meerkat.

“Hey Frenchie back off, we're here to make a deal not a fight” he must be the voice of reason in their team. Wait hold on was that Soldier Boy?

“You're lucky he's here” Frenchie turned around going next to Kimiko again. But you were concentrated on looking at what seemed to be Soldier Boy holy shit.

“Yeah you go do that sweety pie, now what are you doing here.” Florence was starting to get frustrated too but you holy cow you had the guy you’ve been looking for for a whole week right there! You should just lounge at him or something.

“Well hello to you too sweetheart, we’re here to make a deal with you lots”  Did they have every nationalities in that team or? I mean, there was more diversity in them than in the Seven. But still, if you could just fry the V in Soldier Boy that would be-

“Don’t even think about it” Florence whispered before taking walking towards them.

“Now, what kind of deal are we talking about?”

Meanwhile at Vought’s, a red haired woman was walking fast in her heels to a meeting she had with Homelander. She finally found a place where the villain might be hiding. It wasn't easy to find, but with the help of crimes analytics and a few connections she managed too.

 Oh how excited she was. She was able to get her hands on some compound V. She would inject herself with it, then flee the country and all of that would be behind her. She would finally be able to live the life she always wanted. Would she go to Italy? Oooh maybe Switzerland! There weren’t any supes there and she heard that Vought had yet to get their hands on them. That would be perfect.

Ashley’s heel clicked every step she took. Head held high, files tucked in her arms, she was ready to do this.

Butcher was baffled on how well organised those people were. The cave was reinforced with strong metals to ensure its residents security. But to get there, they first had to go through sewers. Not a bad idea, no one wants to live in sewers after all, so no squatters and no spies. What a dream.

“OK so we’ll go in my quarters to discuss since well, things are happening everywhere else” Y/n announced with a little nervous laugh. God she was so fucked, not only did she learned that Evangeline was maybe the reason behind why people were fainting left and right but she also had to deal with this shit. Urgh, she couldn’t wait for her day off.

Arrived at her apartments, Y/n led the group to a small wooden table. Everyone sat down on the creaky old chairs. She got all of her furnitures herself. She was just too lazy to repare them at the moment. She was able to get Nessira to make a comfortable sofa made out of leaves and wood. God she loved nature, she was often sad she couldn't control it. It was just too complex. The formulas were by the hundreds and contained thousands of atoms. Kinda hard to control that.

“Alright so, tell us about your deal” Florence demanded. Her patience was being stretched thin and she hated that. She wasn't impatient, no don't get confused, she just wasn't someone that liked to lose time in things like that. She liked going straight to the point.

“OK so, we’re a group of people that went the same thing as you- What do you call yourself again-

“Supe Busters.” both women responded a little too excited about their wordplay. That was a clever name and no one could convince them otherwise.

“Yeah Supe Busters, we're like you except we don't have the same abilities as you. Wich makes our jobs ten times harder. So we were wondering if we could, you know form an alliance? Just to get rid of some supes tho, after that we're good. “

“And what happens if we refuse?” Florence said with a frown. She couldn't see what they, Supe Busters, could get out of this? 

“Well, not much. Except maybe the fact you'd be on our bad side now” The blonde woman was now talking. Y/n recognized her.

“Aren’t you Starlight? I heard that you trafficked kids…” Florence was wayyy too agaisnt the idea of working with her.

“Girl those are false allegations” Y/n was trying really hard not to laugh while saying this.

“How do you know? From what we know supes ain't saints..”

“Cause Vought made those rumours up. They saw an enemy they wanted to get rid of, that simple. Apparently it worked cause there are still some dumbasses like you that believe it uh”

Florence was now thinking of it and it was in fact Vought who started those things. Guess Y/n is right…

“what about the deal?” said M.M getting impatient too in front of those women. Unprofessional women at that.

“Oh yeah, I’m not agaisn’t it. Are you?” It was now the atom controller's turn to ask questions.

“Yeah, ok I’m in it too. We’re in.”

“Ashley, right in time it seems” Ashley was scared of Homelander. And he knew that. He was bathed in joy at the fact if anything. He relished at the fear people had of him. He felt superior to them at those moments, like a better specie, a God…

“Yes sir, sorry sir. Uhm, me and my team found where this person might be hiding.” Shaking like a leaf she handed him the files. Files that he threw at the table like it wasn't hours of intense research.

“I don't want to read it, I want to hear it. Now. Ashley.” His eyes started to have their menacing red glow. Oh how Ashley hated him, he could feel it. He loved observing people. It helped feel more, normal. Like he hadn't lived through reckless torture for years and years and years and years and y-

“O-Of course sir. We have found out that they might be hiding in the Flat Iron Building-” Ashley was once again cut off by Homelander's hand around her throat. He squeezed and squeezed, his gloves squeaking under the pressure.

“Hmm, Ashley tell me please. Did I or did I not tell you that I needed a suspect?” he asked calmly, squeezing a little less for her to speak.

“Yes sir you did” Ashley voice was shocked by the lack of air.

“And you want to tell me WHY THE HELL I GET A PLACE INSTEAD OF A PERSON?” He was now screaming in the red haired woman’s face. Little droplets of spit landed on her face. He suddenly released his grip on her to put his face between his hands, exasperated by her lack of competence. Ashley was now at the floor breathing like a fish out of the sea. She could feel her throat get more and more sore by the seconds, while her lungs were wheezing.

“Get out of here I'll send a team of agents there since you all want to act like clowns.”

A/n : Again for a part four I need 10 notes in order to be sure I'm not writing to no one😊 If you have any suggestions, again feel free to say them

@demodemo909

@weaponxgames

[ericsprincess]

down for your love

You take your car to a car shop for a repair. Your mechanic fucks it up even more. 

~~~

“Hello,” you open the shop door and walk in. There is just an older guy sitting behind a desk. He looks up at you, with a questioning gaze. 

“My name is Y/L/N, I got a phone call today about my car? Something about some unexpected issue? I think it might have been you on the phone, we made an agreement that I would come later today to assess,” you introduce yourself and see his face light up as he remembers. 

“Ah, yes, miss Y/L/N, yes I remember now. I am Mr. Kim, and I am the owner of this shop. I deeply apologize to you, but there has been an unexpected issue with your car,” he shakes your hand and even bows a little. He looks really apologetic, so you already start bracing yourself for whatever unexpected trouble is awaiting you today. 

“What happened? I think it was just some routine fix? Did you find something wrong with the car?” you worry. 

“Uh, no, you see, uh, it’s just that our mechanic that was working on your car, you know, he’s just an apprentice, and..uhhh…he accidentally broke the replacement part, I am really sorry for that,” the old guy babbles and his face is red. You fight the urge to close your eyes and pinch your nose. Great. 

“B-But, don’t worry,” continues the old guy. “We’re gonna order a new part and you won’t be charged for it. It will just take some time again to arrive and I also needed you to come here to sign the additional order paper,” he concludes and you just sigh. Awesome, another at least a week without a car, just Uber with its sleazy drivers.

“Ah, okay, where do I sign?” you ask, and he hands you the papers. 

“Here, miss. Also, Eric will show you the car, just a second- ” the old man says and turns towards the back to yell “ERIC!!!! Come here and show miss Y/L/N your fuckup!!!” he turns back to you with an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry. He’s a good boy and actually good with cars, just sometimes he gets a bit airheaded and spaces out. I guess he thinks about girls too much, or something,” grumbles the old man, when a man appears in the door leading to the back of the shop. He’s very young, early twenties at most - an adult, but still with a lot of boyishness around him. He’s wearing his black uniform overalls with the top part off and tied around his waist, and just a white muscle shirt tucked in, all smudged in oil stains. Actually, he’s dirty everywhere, even on his face and nice, muscular arms. He’s not very tall, but seems nicely fit and his face is cute too, even despite being currently crumpled in anxiety. 

“Uh, hello? Miss Y/L/N?” he asks awkwardly. You open your mouth to reply, but the old guy cuts in. 

“Eric! Take miss Y/L/N to the back and show her everything. Also,” he turns to you. “Eric can also drive you home in one of our cars, as an apology from us for causing you trouble today, if that’s okay with you?” 

“Yes, sure, thank you” you reply. That’s actually nice of them, you came straight from your office and your feet already hurt a lot from your heels. The pencil skirt you’re wearing is also not very comfortable. So you just say goodbye to the owner and go after Eric to the back of the shop, where your car is parked in a big garage amongst all of the tools and spare tires. 

Eric leads you to your car, opens the hood of it and leans forward. “Soo..uhh see this part right here?” he points to something. You have barely any idea about the car internals beyond what you learnt in driving school, but you still lean forwards next to him. 

“Uh, which one again?” you asked, confused. 

“Right here, see?” Eric points out and looks back at you, checking if you got it now. Except - his eyes slide right down your face and end up on your cleavage. And today, his eyes can feast - the weather is getting too hot, so you’re wearing the thinnest blouse you could find that is office-appropriate, and while leaving work you unbuttoned the first few buttons, leaving your cleavage and a bit of a bra exposed.  

It takes you a second to notice him looking and another second for him to collect his sight and look back at your face. He’s blushing. Awww, you think, you find it a little adorable that he was not able to help himself and stares, but still is innocent enough to feel embarrassed about it. 

“Ah, I think I see it now,” you reply with a smile and he turns back towards the engine and continues, a bit nervously. 

“Yeah, so, this is the part I had to replace, and..uh, when I was tightening the bolts, I, I guess I was distracted, and I tightened it too strongly and part of it snapped, so..uh, I really apologize for that,” he stutters. You feel a little bad.

“That’s okay, I guess,’” you smile kindly and straighten up. “At least you’ll know for the next time to keep your focus and not get distracted.” 

He nods and you can really see his inner fight to not stare at your tits again and also the moment he loses. You can feel your nipples getting hard under the weight of his look, and you know that he must see it too, they are probably showing through your thin bra and blouse. 

You can’t help it but you feel really flattered by the effect you seem to have on him. Especially since he’s so young. It’s not that you’re old, the age difference is just a few years, but you have never gone for younger guys before. Now you can see the appeal. 

“Are you getting distracted again?” you tease him and he gets immediately red. “Your boss said something about driving me home, would you be okay to do that?” you snort and he hurries to assure you. 

“Yes, miss, no worries! Let’s go, I’ll show you the car,” he takes you to the outside parking lot and leads you to a quite nice car. Even awkwardly hurries to open the passenger’s door for you. How cute.

He jumps to the driver’s seat, buckles up and turns the engine on while you’re telling him your address. He nods, apparently he knows where that is and off you go. 

The drive is somewhat silent and awkward. You notice that he’s a good driver, he has the style of someone who grew up around cars and was never afraid of driving. But in spite of that, he’s clutching the steering wheel tightly and keeps peeking at you, as if your presence made him nervous. 

And once he notices you’re actually unashamedly looking at him, he gets nervous even more. 

You stretch and let out a sigh, on purpose and his breath hitches. His ears are red now and you decide that it was enough of a tease. 

You put your hand on his thigh. He jerks and almost swerves the car off the road. 

“Stop the car somewhere on the side before you make us crash, would you?” you lean to whisper to his ear and he just nods and does exactly that. 

He picks a nice, semi-hidden spot next to some trees, so you take the opportunity, quickly unbuckle your seatbelt, hop over the console and sit straight on his lap. 

“One question. Do you want this?” you ask him.

“Yes,” he doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes, please,” he breathes out, looking at you as if he’s scared that if he even as much as blinks, you will change your mind. 

You don’t waste time and you unzip his overall pants and pull out his cock. He’s already hard and leaking, the tip almost purple. You raise your eyebrow. “You’re already so hard?”

He laughs, embarrassed. “I’ve been hard since I’ve seen you in the office,” he admits. 

You raise yourself up a little on his lap to move your panties to the side, your pencil skirt is already bunched up around your hips. You’re also already wet, so you just slide his cock into you and sit back down comfortably. He’s a decent size and thick enough so you can feel him in you nicely and you slowly start to ride him, your holding his shoulders. 

He looks like he’s summoning all of his strength to not cum on the spot and keeps staring at your tits that are right in front of his face. 

“You can touch, you know,” you breathe out, and he hesitates “I’ll get you dirty.” 

“I don’t care,” you reply and unbutton your blouse. He takes your tits into his hands and squeezes and kneads them while you keep riding him and sighing from pleasure. 

He pulls your bra down to make your tits pop out and squeezes them like that, leaving oil prints all over. 

“Suck on them,” you order him and he doesn’t waste a second to latch on one, you lean a bit forward and almost suffocate him while he’s sucking on your nipples in a complete bliss. He puts his hands on your ass, guiding our movements and tempo. 

You’re riding him quicker now and you can hear the squelching noises from how wet you are, together with the sound of Eric sucking on your tits. You’re close and you speed up and he whines and moans. 

He’s close too and your tempo is almost frantic when you finally cum and in a few seconds you can feel him pulsating in you. You fall forward, tightly hugging him while you’re both spasming in your orgasms. He whines, sweaty face nuzzling to your neck as he’s cumming inside of you. 

When it’s finally over, you take a moment to relax and take a few deep breaths, and then you’re slumping back to the passenger’s seat, trying to get a hold of yourself. 

Eric is just sitting with a blank stare, like his world was completely flipped, so you laugh and wave your hand in front of his eyes, until he snaps out of it. 

“Let’s go?” you smile. 

He hurriedly tucks his cock back into his pants, not caring about all the mess on his crotch from his cum and your juices and starts the engine. 

The rest of the way to your house doesn’t take long, and suddenly he’s pulling up to your driveway. 

You turn to him. He’s still completely messed up, messy hair, oil stains everywhere, now with added cum and other sex-related mess. He’s still dazed. So cute. 

“Do you wanna come up for a shower?” you ask mischievously. 

He looks at you, blushes and smiles. He turns off the engine. 

[pessimisticoptimistsblog]

A/N: So I finally rewatched the pilot and realized that the extermination happened before the interview Charlie did 🤦‍♀️ BUT! I’m just going to roll with it being set up my way because it’s honestly not a huge factor imo. Anyway, here’s chapter 2!

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 2

Deal With the Devil

It had been 2 days since the annual extermination, and Madame C and Nia were taking the final calls confirming their clients were all accounted for. It had been close with a few of the more reckless sinners, but thankfully, only a couple of scrapes and bruises had been reported. The real scare had been the inane turf-war on the west side that resulted in a hell hound being put out of work for at least a month. He had been new and inexperienced and made a stupid mistake, resulting in Madame C having to reorganize her roster to cover for his absence. White gloved hands dragged down her shadowed face, the stress from the last few days, and her upcoming meeting with the king of hell himself had made for a headache that pulsed behind her eyes. Nia could feel her boss’s frustration practically rolling off of her, but the she-wolf just focused harder on doing the final check-in.

“Fiona and Gus are good - their charge is accounted for with no issues. And that was the last client we needed to account for! No sinners lost this year, so everyone will get a 1% increase on their next renewal and we all get our bonuses! Yes! I’ve been looking forward to this, got a new bike I’ve had my eyes on for a while now.” Nia began to ramble on about the specs of the motorcycle she hoped to buy as Madame C relaxed back into her chair and watched the she-wolf become more and more animated.

The shadow demon was glad her assistant had found a bright side; Madame C hated any hiccups on extermination days, but at least this year was minor and she could now place her focus on her meeting with Lucifer tomorrow. Time had flown these last few days, her nerves becoming more frazzled as the meeting grew closer. If Lucifer couldn’t help her, at least then she’d know her only hope would be God which meant being voiceless would be forever; but if he just wouldn’t help… well, she’d rather not think of how she’d respond.

Nia closed her notebook loudly startling Madame C out of her thoughts, “Welp, that’s it for all this, boss! I think we’re done for today, a little early too. Should give you plenty of time to prepare whatever speech you plan on giving tomorrow since we both know you probably won’t sleep!” The she-wolf gave a wry grin to her boss, the woman barely slept as it was, it was no doubt her current state of mind had left her unable to rest.

*I’ve had a speech planned for almost 300 years, I’m over-thinking it at this point,” a small grin from Madame C as she paused her hands for a moment. *I do agree, we should stop for today. An early night may help me get some sleep.*

“Can’t argue with the boss! An early night sounds fucking great, I’ve got a couple sleeping pills from Sloth I’ve been dying to try. Don’t worry, though, I won’t be late tomorrow!” During her talk, Nia had gathered her purse and begun heading towards the office doors. Before exiting she looked back at Madame C one last time, “Try to get a little sleep, okay? I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna need all the energy you can get.” And then the hell hound was gone, leaving the shadow demon to gather the rest of the papers on the desk before heading to the file room.

After placing the files in their proper spots and grabbing an energy bar from the kitchen, Madame C headed to the basement where a small gym had been installed as a perk for her employees. And at the very back of the room stood a door only she had a key for, her private studio. After living in hell as long as she had, the shadow demon’s home had been destroyed and rebuilt more times than she cared to remember. This room had stood the test of time, though, and now stood at the base of her building in Pentagram City, protected on all sides by thick concrete and other rooms beyond that. It was the only room Madame C lifted her shadows, besides her room and the curtains were always closed in there.

Locking the door behind her, the woman lifted he cloak of darkness before looking around at her personal sanctuary. The room was fairly plain, mats lined half of the floor for when she wanted to work out, the other half was wood with a small rack of weights, a rolled up yoga mat, a couple bo staffs, and a large mirror that took up most of the wall. Madame C began stretching her arms while looking in the mirror; without her shadows, she was reminded of how human she still looked. Her father had pushed her down here when she had just turned 17 and she had only aged a few years since now looking at most in her mid 20s. Her slow aging was the only perk she was happy to have inherited from her father. She had her mother’s upturned nose, green eyes she was told were her grandmother’s accompanied by dark circles that seemed permanent at this point, and was just over 5 feet tall. Her brown hair was still unruly, now reaching the middle of her shoulder blades. She hated it, her mother’s family all had light blonde hair, but brown hair was entirely her father’s contribution. Thankfully, the only other thing she got from her father were her wings that she always kept tightly pressed to her back.

Tying her hair back and removing her dress to reveal workout shorts and a sports bra, the young woman began to stretch eager to burn off some nervous energy.

~The next day~

Madame C and Nia stood on Lucifer’s doorstep having just knocked on the ornate door. “This place is kinda not as bad as I expected. Figured the king of Hell would have a fancier place, honestly. Not that this isn’t! It’s just, ya know, not what I imagined, that’s all. Also, like how long does it take for someone to op-“ the she-wolf’s nervous rambling was cut off as an imp opened the door before inviting the two women in. He led them up a set of stairs and down a couple hallways before stopping outside of a simple door. He knocked twice before opening it and letting Nia and her boss inside then bowed as he closed the door and left.

The walls were covered in portraits and photos of the royal family and the sins. Nia and Madame C glanced around taking all of them in as well as the desk and large chair sat in front of a floor length window with the curtains drawn closed. In the chair sat Lucifer, his head propped up on one fist while his other hand twirled a pen, boredom clear on his face. Madame C knew of the kings dislike for sinners so she hadn’t expected him to be excited, but his expression set her nerves alight all over again.

“Come, sit. Charlie said this was important, so tell me what it is you need and I’ll decide if it’s something I want to do,” Lucifer droned. His eyes appraised each woman, brows drawing together slightly at seeing one entirely cloaked in darkness.

Nia made it to her seat first with Madame C close behind. After settling, they looked at each other and Madame C began to sign while Nia interpreted. *I am known as Madame C amongst the sinners, you may just call me C if you like. I don’t know what your daughter has told you but I am here to ask if you know of a spell that could break a seal placed by a powerful man. He sealed half of my soul and my voice when I arrived in hell so that I would never be able to reveal his transgressions.* They had rehearsed this part on the drive here, but the demon’s hands still shook lightly, her chest already beginning to constrict from the seal. The two women watched as Lucifer rested his elbows on his desk and placed his chin on his clasped hands. He was staring Madame C down, searching for something, but the demon didn’t know what.

He seemed to have found what it was as he opened his mouth, a resolve clear on his face, “You’re hiding some pretty important details. Either tell me everything, or I won’t even consider helping.” A scowl was set on his face now, and the female demon knew she had no choice but to reveal all of her cards.

Nia reached over to grasp one white gloved hand to show her support. Slowly, the shadowy veil lifted from Madame C to reveal her true form covered in a knee-length, long-sleeved black dress with her hair tied back neatly into a bun, a couple pieces framing her face. She averted her green eyes to the floor, not ready to see anyone’s reaction to her.

Taking a slow deep breath, she began to sign again, *I was 17 when my father found me…*

~Flashback~

Year 1470

She could barely catch her breath, the man- no, the angel was faster than anyone she had ever ran from and he had finally cornered her. She stared at him in fear, wishing she had had more time to train her newfound wings, maybe then she could have escaped him. His eyes were furious, a scowl deep set on his face yet not a hair out of place. Not far behind him she saw a petite woman, another angel judging by her wings, with short white hair catching up as well. Together, their golden eyes held the young girl frozen in place, she knew she was caught.

“Ya know, your mom was a real bitch. What kind of ‘good Christian’ woman seduces an angel? Props to her for actually having you, I guess, but you being alive ain’t really good for my image. Half-breeds aren’t allowed as is, but especially mine? The big-wigs definitely wouldn’t look past that. So unfor-“ Adam was cut off abruptly.

“What are you talking about?! How can you be my father? My mother said my father was a farmer, not an angel. And she would never lie to me! Who even are you?” The girl was yelling by the end, out of breath once again with green eyes wide and confused.

The two angels approached again, the girl toppling back, trying to maintain distance. “Who am I? Bitch, I’m Adam! THE first man, the original man! Also, the reason you’ve got those little wings starting to grow out of your back there, but that doesn’t matter. I’m fucking important, and I can’t have a half-breed ruining what I’ve got up in heaven. Sooo, Lute, you wanna take over?” Adam held his hand toward the other angel now know as Lute as a sadistic grin came over her face.

“We’re going to send you to hell where you belong. And we’re going to make sure you never tell another soul anything. Ever. Again!” Lute grabbed the girl by her shirt collar, lifting her off the ground and closer to her face. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, your whore mommy will still be down there. She probably died again, though, so don’t get your hopes up,” Lute’s grin was sadistic, showing no remorse.

A portal opened under them, Lute flying in, still holding Adam’s daughter with Adam close behind. They landed in a barren area of the pride ring on the outskirts of the growing Pentagram City, the white-haired angel throwing their captive to the hard ground. Adam pulls a book out of his white robes and flips straight to an ear-marked page. His eyes scanned the page, head nodding as he read it over, “Alrighty, just need to draw this thing on your chest - Lute, you mind ripping this shit?” Adam motioned to the young girl’s chest covered by a high necked dress. Lute complied immediately, the girl barely fighting, still in shock by everything happening. “Cool! Now, I just do a little this, and that… What’d you say your name was again? Need that for the seal,” he stared expectantly.

“C-Caelwen. But please-“

Adam didn’t give her a chance to finish before he pushed her back into the ground and motioned Lute to hold her shoulders down. “Listen, kid, I can’t have this reaching heaven. I’ve got a great gig up there, and you’re not gonna ruin it. And I can’t exactly kill you, so this will have to do. Just stay still and let me finish this shit so Lute and I can get the fuck out of here, okay?” Adam didn’t give her a chance to talk again, pricking his finger to add a drop of his blood to the seal he had drawn on her chest. He mumbled a few strange words and suddenly Caelwen felt a fiery heat surround her that began to rapidly squeeze her. It felt like it cut through her body before clenching around her heart. She tried to scream, but nothing came out.

After a couple minutes, the heat settled to a dull burn, and the girl looked to where her two captors stood watching her to make sure their plan had worked. She tried to ask what they had done, but again, nothing came out. Over and over, she tried screaming, yelling, crying, yet nothing escaped her. The angels looked down at her, grins nearly splitting their faces, it had worked.

“Listen, I hate to split before we can bond or whatever, kid, but I’ve got some important shit to take care of in heaven. So, get comfy. You’ll be spending the rest of your life here, unable to ever tell a soul what happened without killing yourself.” Adam’s aura had darkened, making the girl cower further into the ground. “Don’t worry, though! I’m sure a little demon will be along soon to kill you. Have fun!” With that, Lute and Adam flew off into a new portal leaving Caelwen on her own, her dress ripped, and a seal burned into her chest that was fading quickly. Everything hit her all at once, and she dissolved into sobs, wishing she could have stopped them somehow.

~End Flashback~

Madame C, Caelwen, clutched a hand to her chest, doubling over as tears threatened to fall. Her chest burned, and she was shaking, trying to hold in the pain she felt. She could only think it felt like having her heart ripped out with a hand consumed by fire. Nia reached out for her boss, distraught to see her boss in so much pain. Caelwen shakily waved her off, doing her best to sit back up and look towards Lucifer. She was taken aback at the man in front of her, unsure of how to take his response.

Lucifer was seething. He had known heaven wasn’t fond of Nephilim, they had outlawed their creation when the first one was simply proposed and any that were created had their souls reaped within their first 2 years of life by the angel of death. To know now that one had slipped under their radar just to be thrown into his domain and left for dead by her own heavenly father, he was pissed. Adam was a dick to begin with and now this? All to avoid the consequences of his actions.

Lucifer looked to the Nephilim in front of him, seeing her pained expression, he recalled the last part of her story and reached a clawed hand towards her hoping his abilities could lessen the effects of her seal. Once she seemed to relax slightly, Lucifer relaxed and reigned in his anger, he couldn’t hurt Adam due to their agreement, but he could certainly do his part to make the cocky angel pay. “I can’t say for certain that I have the exact book we’ll need, but I will do everything in my power to help you. Unfortunately, if I don’t have what we need, it’s most likely in heaven and it takes time to get a meeting with them if they’re not interested.” Lucifer reached across his desk for Caelwen’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For tonight, you can sleep here- in a guest room so I can make sure the curse on that seal doesn’t have another wave. And tomorrow, we can start searching the archives. Miss. Nia, you are welcomed to stay as well if you wish. But I do have a decent grasp on sign language if there are other matters you’re needed for?” The king looked between the two women for an answer.

*Go home and rest. Tomorrow you can handle my meeting with Velvette and cancel the others. I’ll call for you if we need you. Thank you. For everything* Caelwen then placed a hand on Nia’s knee, hoping to convey her gratitude the vest she could while still in pain.

Nia grasped her hand in reassurance, “Don’t worry boss lady, I can handle the mutts and assholes while you figure this out.” The she-wolf’s easy grin eased the other girls mind, she knew her assistant could more than handle the office and any bullshit their clients threw their way. Nia rose from her chair and headed towards the door, stopping to wave goodbye to her boss before leaving.

“Let’s get you into a bed so you can rest, okay?” Lucifer’s voice was gentle as he reached for the young girl, noticing her wings peaking out of her dress now that he was above her. Caelwen nodded, looking up at him before placing her hand in his outstretched one. Standing proved difficult as her legs shook and then gave out beneath the Nephilim, with Lucifer quickly scooping her up with a soft ‘I’ve got ya’. Seeing how exhausted the girl was, Lucifer opted to portal to a guest room near his own in case any problems arose during the night. Although it took no time at all, Caelwen was out cold when Lucifer laid her in down in the bed. Seeing her face relaxed in sleep, he could finally take in her features and couldn’t help but notice she certainly inherited the angelic beauty. A clawed hand reached out to brush a stray hair from her face before he quickly shook his head and portaled to his own room, they had a difficult task ahead and he’d need all the sleep he could get.

A/N – I have edited and reread this chapter so many times today. I’m still not completely happy, but if I don’t post it now I’ll scrap it and hate myself later. But, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Chapter 3 probably won’t be out until Saturday because of work, but maybe sooner, we’ll see.

Tag List:

@leximus98

[morning-sun-brah]

Here's few ideas (typing aggressively on my phone):

- Mafia AU where Leo (40s or 50s) is the boss while reader (30 or 40s or any age you want to put) is the secretary while begin a huge simp of their boss Leo.

- Rockstar AU: Reader begin a pop star, idol or a singer who isn't in the rock genre but they and Leo are doing a collab or singing battle against each other (Leo vs reader the winner is the one who's getting votes from the audience online).

- tactical AU as reader is a doctor who's working on making a kraang virus cure and F!Leo is protecting them because his teammate and family passed away because of this virus.

- F!Leo begin reader's neighbor and started living in the apartment next door after a nasty divorce. Reader could be a single mother who's pregnant with her child. The two are growing from neighbors to friends to slowly falling for each other (something wholesome and fluff as it comfort and healing from previous wounds).

*drop on my knees/hj* i hope you like them master/hj

I might be under the weather, but I have this in my back pocket...

So, once upon a time, @starrcrossrose and I worked on a Mafia AU (so if you like this, make sure you throw a thank you at her head like a grenade). I have... quite a few more snippets I can share of these two- if anyone is interested, and I am not opposed to writing the occasional ask for this if it fits into the story (i.e.; Leo goes into the bank and x-y-z happens).

Also, @snipersiniora; THANK YOU FOR THE ASK AND THE PROMPTS. I'm keeping them all and I'll eyeball some of the other ones for ~later~. That said, the end game for this is exactly what your prompt was- the OC absolutely is supposed to end up as Leon's secretary/assistant.

Eventual smut, as an fyi, but nothing here other than set up. MINORS DNI, though! This is going to be shared in parts, and it will (eventually) be explicit. I should know, I've heard about a specific scene I've shared from the smut for ages, from friends who have seen it. (as an aside- I realize that Vivian is Julie coded, and that I've also used the name Vivian in a different fic. Shhhh....)

Gonna try out this whole sharing a fic on tumblr jazz. Definitely not nervous about it haha (a lie).

MAFIA AU UNDER THE CUT.

Summary; Leon has been in charge for a while now. Over a decade, actually. He's not really the same person anymore, not to the public and certainly not at a glance. He's... more. A mythos, almost. He's given a wide berth, talked about in hushed voices, and regarded with a healthy mix of fear and respect.

Too bad Vivian doesn't know who the fuck he is.

Marked mature for eventual smut. Ongoing. Leon x OC. OC uses she/her pronouns. Bank teller OC, Mafia Boss Leon. Aged up Ninja Turtles (an in, in their late 30's/pushing 40). Some violence and questionable activity on Leo's part. Where do you find your ride-or-die? In the bank, obviously. Don't like, don't read, you know the song and dance.

Next>

“I can help you, big guy.” 

To say Leon hadn’t already noticed her would be a lie. The pale blonde of her hair, down and straightened with a few frayed ends. The big white smile she kept painted on her face. The way her laughter carried through the high walls of the bank and echoed throughout. When he’d gotten close enough in the line- refusing to cut even when it was offered (and it was offered more than once)- he’d heard the way she spoke to each individual person. It was different with each new customer. Sometimes she was calm and to the point- talking quickly and keeping conversations short with patrons who clearly had further things to do and no interest in chatting. With others, it was casual and teasing, repeat customers or someone who she’d decided she could easily chat with, who would be comfortable with mild silliness.

At first, Leon had waited there in line annoyed, grouchy, and exhausted. He’d had a long night of strategizing with Donatello, and he’d only gotten a few hours of sleep on his office couch before peeling open his eyes and crawling to the bathroom to freshen up. He’d changed into one of his spare suites, glaring at his prosthetic arm and deciding it was a weight he didn’t want to carry today (and never mind that Donnie had started nagging him to wear it more often). 

By eight am he was ready for a pot of coffee and a day of phone calls. But there had been no coffee in the pot at reception, and there had been no receptionist, either. 

One glance at his phone told him why- and he’d answered the call (he’d missed six others) with a groan of irritation.

“Robert’s in the hospital!”  

His secretary, Betty, had half sobbed the words, the fifty-something-year-old woman in a panic because her eighty-something-year-old husband had collapsed in the middle of coitus (which- Leon had always thought was the point of Betty marrying an older man- but her worry over the phone made him wonder if she actually cared for the geriatric she called her husband. That, or his last will in testament hadn’t been settled). 

Leon had told her not to worry, to take as much time as she needed. He’d also promised to complete her errands himself- insisting on it even when she offered to send her nephew in her stead. Leo had scoffed; the last thing he wanted was Betty’s nephew in his office, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. Instead, he’d made a list, listening to Betty as she rattled off everything that needed to be done before five. 

It was errands. How hard could errands be?

The morning had been a shitshow. 

The dry cleaners just down the street had misplaced two of his suits, and the owner had kept him much too long to apologize- nearly in tears even after Leon had insisted it was fine (it wasn’t- those were tailored Armani suits and he needed them back, goddamnit). Then he’d rescheduled all his appointments for the day- which was a hard thing to do when the person you don’t want to talk to was the one you were calling. Most of the calls had devolved into business, no matter how hard he tried to insist he didn’t have the time, and Leon had ended up just texting the last three and hoping that it wouldn’t reflect poorly on his business- unable to tolerate another voice saying “hey, while I have you on the phone,” and keeping his ear longer than he wanted. 

Still no coffee, and it had been nearing ten in the morning. 

Leon had nabbed his driver, Otto, from where he lounged in the lobby- snapping his fingers as he stalked passed and hearing the younger man scramble to get to the car before him. He’d slipped into the back of the black Rolls Royce and ignored his stomach when it growled loudly, resolved to get the last of the tasks off his list by noon- and when it was all done he was going to treat himself to a Ruben the size of his face and a bottle of whiskey. 

They’d gone to Queens to drop off a delivery, and again he’d been held up by the owner of the laundromat- who had nearly pissed himself when Leon walked in. Leon never walked in. Not unless there was a problem.

By early afternoon the list was only a third of the way to being completed, and he still hadn’t had coffee.

So he waited in line at the bank, the Royce and young Otto idling at the curb- right in front of a fire hydrant, too, because there wasn’t a cop on patrol who didn’t know to keep moving. Depositing a check shouldn’t be overly hard… Though, the last time he’d done it was in his early twenties. He didn’t think it was customary to actually head into the bank and do it in person anymore. In fact, he was sure he’d seen a commercial or two, when he had time for television, that exalted the benefits of snapping a picture and having it all done within a few moments. 

If that was the case, though, Betty was the one who knew how to do it. She ran his life, practically, and with her husband in the hospital she wasn’t in any situation to explain it to him. Certainly he wasn’t going to call her. 

“Hey, Bett’s. I know your old man is in critical condition, but mind explaining how this shit works? Thanks, Doll.”

He might be an asshole- but he wasn’t a monster. … Depending on who you asked, anyway. 

So he’d been annoyed, standing head over shoulders taller than any human in the bank and ignoring the wide berth he was given, jaw ticking as the line sluggishly moved along, half tempted to take up the offers to cut the line and be done with it. But she’d caught his eye, and with nothing better to do he’d just watched her, watched the way she spoke, the way she moved. Took in the loose cotton of her sage green top that stretched over an ample chest, the glint of gold in her jewelry- large hoops that swayed in her ears and chunky rings on every other finger. The way her eyes hardly left her computer screen as her fingers flew over the keyboard. The way her lips would occasionally wrap around the lid of a paper coffee cup that was stained mauve from her lipstick. 

Fall colors, Mikey had taught him. She was wearing fall colors. He wondered if she matched everything to the season. He wondered how high-maintenance she was, how fussy. He wondered how long she’d spent in the bathroom before she came to work, how carefully she’d painted her face. 

Not that he was complaining. 

Maybe other men weren’t into the look she presented. Certainly, she wore makeup, dyed her hair, and wore a shirt a little too revealing. He could already tell she was loud, with the way her voice carried through the bank, could tell that she’d have no qualms reading someone to filth if they were rude to her. But Leo was already half-smitten with her, even before she called him “big guy.” 

That had just sealed the deal, honestly. That, and every single word that had left her mouth from then on. 

He walked to her raised counter, her greeting lingering in the air. The woman who stood behind Leon in line sucked in a sharp breath at the address, as though she were steeling herself for an onslaught of profanity, maybe even violence. Which made sense, really. People knew Leon. He had a reputation. Casualness was a no-no. Calling him anything other than ‘Sir,’ or ‘Mr. Hamato’ was a good way to find yourself in trouble. Maybe Leon should be offended that he instilled such fear, such caution, but as it had been that way for over a decade, he decided that he still enjoyed the reaction- no matter what it said about him. But the teller didn’t know him, didn’t recognize him, and all at once he knew he wasn’t going to correct her. 

“Whatcha got for me?” The blonde asked, pushing her large framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. It gave her a slutty librarian look, Leo would later think- not bothering to feel bad about the assessment. 

He peered at her name tag. “Hello, Vivian.”

For a moment, her eyes held confusion, then she blew out a loud, punctuated breath. 

“I forget I have this thing on, half the time,” she expelled, a high little laugh on her lips and her hand on her chest, fingers fiddling with the plastic pin. “I was about to ask how the hell you knew my name.”

Leon shook his head, a little tsking sound on his lips as though to assure he wasn’t some derelict. “Need to deposit a check.” 

“Well, let's see the deposit slip. Come on, come on,” she rushed, grinning at him so wide he wondered if her cheeks hurt. He skated the slip across the laminate counter, which he’d filled out when he first entered the bank, all hunched over and muttering in irritation (something that was lost in the wind, now). The check he kept in his palm, understanding directions when he was given them, holding onto it until she asked for its production. 

“You new to New York?” he asked, leaning against the counter and watching her as she glanced at the slip he’d slid to her, her hands folded one on top of the other as she peered down at it.  

“What gave it away?”

“Your accent is very neutral.” 

“Is it? I guess it would be. You sound like you’ve lived here all your life.”

Leon gave an easy smile. “Midwest?” 

“Oh lord, are you a cop?”

“Hmm, not quite.” 

“Well, you got it right. Dead center of the Midwest. Iowa.” 

She still hadn’t picked up the bank slip, just eyed it with an arched brow, and she gave him an assessing gaze before asking, “How often do you make deposits, big man?”

God, he liked that. It fed his ego just the right way, having some pretty bank teller with long lashes and big doe-eyes calling him big man, big guy. Leon cocked his head to the side a bit, ignoring the little thrill that shot through him. “Why?” 

“I’m just wondering how much shit I need to give you for filling out a withdrawal slip, instead of a deposit.”

Leo bared his teeth in an apologetic cringe. “My secretary usually handles this,” he explained, nose all scrunched at the excuse. He sounded like an asshole, maybe, using the words my secretary, like he was incapable of doing anything on his own- coddled and babied.   

She cut him a look, glancing at him quickly as though to gauge his expression, his apology. Then her lips tipped into a paltry smile, her eyes rolling as she gave an exaggerated sigh.

“It’s alright,” she allowed, procuring the correct slip from a drawer, nails clicking over every surface as she moved. “I’ll fill it out… You know you can do all this over your phone, right? Just snap a picture of the check and move on with your day?” Then, with eyes that seemed to dance, she added, “Are you too old to know how to work the app?”

Leon raised a brow ridge (the audacity) and shook his head. 

“I’m old-school, not old.” 

She gave a non-committal hum, and Leo scoffed. 

“I’m not even forty!” He said in faux offense, heart jumping a little in his chest.

“The fact you said “I’m not even forty,” instead of “I’m in my thirties,” tells me exactly how close to being forty you are.”

At that, he barked a loud, surprised laugh. A laugh that took even himself by surprise. It had been… years, since someone talked to him like this. Decades, maybe. 

I was right. She doesn’t know who I am. She has no idea who I am…

“How long have you been here, Vivian?” He asked, amusement written all over his features, a light in his eyes that only his inner circle ever witnessed. 

“Oh, a couple months,” she answered from her bent forward position, using a blue ballpoint pen to handwrite his information on the correct bank slip. 

“You like it?”

She gave a little derisive snort of a laugh, then straightened to look over her shoulder. An older man with a Manager pin seemed to loom behind the counter, looking over her and Leon with a watchful gaze, and she said loudly, in a voice that carried, “I love it here!” 

She threw a cheery look at the slider and added, “This is honestly the best job I’ve ever had! I’ve only been here two months and I already feel like this is my second home, everyone here is so wonderful! It’s been such an amazing opportunity, and I love all the people and the atmosphere and-”

“He’s gone.”

“It’s awful,” she quickly transitioned, tone deadpan. “Are you kidding me? No one here is nice- except John,” she canted her chin to the man working the other window down the long counter- his long sandy blonde hair pulled back and gauges in his ears as he frowned at a harassed-looking woman who jabbered at him about late fees. “But he’s new too, so we’re in this together- like High School Musical.” 

Leon’s smile twisted higher at her honesty. “You’re telling me being a bank teller isn’t the American Dream?” 

Vivian snorted again. “Please. It is better than being in a secluded cubicle- at least I get to talk to people. But ugh, dealing with the public is terrible. No one wants to be at a bank, you know? It’s like the BMV. No one is happy to be here- and if you’re coming into the bank it’s usually because there is a problem. And then you get jokers who fill out all the wrong paperwork.”

She gave a belabored sigh before throwing him a wink, and Leo didn’t bother trying to smother his wide grin. 

“That must be terrible.” 

“It’s so terrible,” she agreed with a sage nod, crossing the ‘t’ in his last name with a flourish. “Alright, Mr. Fancy Pants, lemme see the check.”

Leo slid it to her with his thumb and didn't miss the way her eyes rounded just slightly before schooling into a neutral expression. 

“What’s that look?” He asked. 

“Just a lot of zeros,” she murmured casually.  

Like so many times now, since he’s entered the bank, Leon’s brow ridge raised high. “Are you allowed to comment on the amount someone is depositing?” he asked lightly. 

Vivian rolled her eyes. “Don’t start with me, big guy,” she began. “You’re the one who asked what the look was for.”

Leo chuckled and gave a half-shrug, “Not used to someone having such a terrible poker face.” 

She threw him a sour little scowl. “How dare you,” she quipped. “Just for that, I’m making you stand here longer.” 

Leon pressed his lips together, thought about his response, and then immediately unglued them. 

“I can live with that.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Views not so bad, at this window.”

Leon decided very quickly that, as pretty as she was, he liked the way she looked when she was blushing even more. It was a blotchy show of red and pink, from her cheeks all the way down her neck. He liked the little strangled hum she made, too, her eyes darting from his face to her computer screen, her whole body fidgeting. Nervous. Caught between preening and embarrassment, her hands twitching as though she’d like to hide her face in them. Either no one took the time to compliment her (unlikely), or she enjoyed it because it was him serving said adulation. 

She took a long sip of her coffee, clearing her throat as she did, and Leo eyed the cup and sighed loudly. Fuck. He still hadn’t had any coffee.

“What’s that about?” She asked, clearly trying to pivot without addressing what he’d said, her lips still over the lid of her cup. She wasn’t even looking at her computer screen, but one hand still tapped away on her keyboard. 

“Haven’t had coffee yet,” he admitted, some of the irritation from before, which had all fled the moment he’d looked at her, returning. “It’s been a long, long morning.” 

“I was wondering about those eye bags,” Vivian said with a smirk, laughing when he glared at her. She took another deliberately long sip of her coffee and smacked her lips. “Delicious,” she teased.

Leo shook his head. “I tell you I’m suffering and this is how you act? You’re a terrible person.” 

“Am I? And I was just about to offer you some…” 

Leo’s eyes widened, and he straightened from his leaned posture to reach out a hand. “Please,” he intoned, voice half beseeching, half in jest.

Vivian shook her head, amused, then did a double take. “Wait, really? What if I have cooties?” 

Leo scoffed. “What are you, five? I told you, I haven’t had any caffeine. I'm dying here.” He said it seriously, suddenly convinced that, with only a little pleading, he might get a taste. “Come on, sweetheart, I’ll bring you a cup if I ever have to come back into this hell hole.” 

The blush, which had begun to recede, flared back up the instant he uttered sweetheart. Still, Vivian passed him her cup after only a moment of deliberation- eyes dancing with amusement when he drank what was left in three large gulps- like some kind of parched animal. 

It was lukewarm and not nearly sweet enough- but as soon as the liquid hit his tongue, he felt more like himself. 

“What kind of man,” Vivian began with a breathy laugh, “drinks from the cup of a woman he doesn't know?” 

Leon gave a loud, pleased sigh, eyes closed and lips twitching. “The desperate kind,” he responded. 

“Yeah? Hope you don’t mind having my lipstick all over your mouth, either.” 

He looked down at the plastic lid, seeing immediately that her mauve lipstick stains were smeared across it. He gave her a toothy grin. “Is it my shade?”

“Of course it is.”

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Leo rubbed the back of his sleeve across his mouth, the white of his cuffs stained in an instant. 

“That’s a good way to get in trouble with the girlfriend,” Vivian remarked, taking the empty cup out of his hand and setting it to the side. 

“Lucky me, I don’t have one of those.” 

Leo didn’t miss the little upward tug of her lips, and a predatory glean filled in his eyes. He knew bait when he saw it- he was tempted to ask why she was fishing. Before he could say anything, though- deplorable flirting just on the tip of his tongue- Vivian gave a few loud final taps to her keyboard.

“You’re all set, Mr. Hamato,” she lilted. “Want a receipt?” Then, as though she heard her own question, added, “What am I saying of course you do. Otherwise, how will you know I didn’t skim a little off the top?”

“I wouldn’t even notice,” Leo said truthfully.

“Oh in that case.”

She printed his receipt and folded it, putting it in an envelope and sliding it across the counter. 

“Anything else, sir?” 

He was half tempted to have her tell her actually did want to make a withdrawal- just to keep talking to her. But his phone buzzed in his pocket, a reminder that someone else was counting on him, and he sighed. 

“Not a thing,” he said, all that irritation bleeding back into his body at the thought of walking away. 

“It’s been a pleasure,” she told him with a smile- a real one, too. One that reached her eyes, one that he returned, gray meeting green and holding for just a moment. “Or a nightmare, whichever you think is best.” 

Leo’s smile stretched across his face. “A pleasure, absolutely.” 

“You treated Mr. Hamato well, right?”

The question came from Vivan’s manager, William Taylor, and it had her pausing as she gathered her things at the end of the work day, her purse dangling from her shoulder, her hurried movements halted with a screech. That always happened when a superior had a question- one that was more an accusation than anything else.

“I’m sorry?” 

“Mr. Hamato,” he repeated, voice a little high, a little stressed. “Did he leave happy?” 

Vivian’s brow raised. Leonardo Hamato (and never mind that she’d remember his name, a flare of pink dusting her cheeks at the mention of him) had been inside the bank hours ago. It seemed a little odd to wait until they were closing to ask, especially if there had been a complaint. 

Had there been a complaint? Had her casual manner, which she’d thought he’d read as… charming, maybe, actually been ill-received? If that was the case, she needed to find the nearest manhole and swan dive right into it- just to escape the utter embarrassment she’d have for misreading the conversation. That, and she was definitely getting fired- no one but John even liked her (and sometimes she thought he only tolerated her).

“Uh… yeah? Yes. He left happy. He seemed happy, anyway.” She paused, bottom lip between her teeth, then added, “Did he call and complain about something…?”  

It was as though her answer was something that caused her manager great relief, because Mr. Taylor exhaled a whooshing of held breath. 

“No calls or complaints,” he replied, waving off her question. “But I wanted to be sure.” 

Before she could ask, he gave her a stern look- like a parent about to discipline their child for some perceived bad behavior. “If he comes in again, I want you to make sure he has everything he needs from us- that goes for both of you! Be nice. Accommodating. Whatever he wants, I mean it!” He barked the instruction to her co-worker, John, as well, and before Vivian could even give an affirmative he was leaving with a huff, office door slammed in his wake.

The moment it was shut, Vivian gave John a bewildered look. 

“What the fuck was that about?” 

John gave a large shrug, passive gaze conveying just how much he didn’t care. “I dunno, man. Maybe he’s a big client?” 

“Oh, he is. I saw all the zeros in his account.” Vivian glared at the closed door of the office Mr. Taylor had retreated to. “I’m always nice,” she muttered sourly. 

At that, John scoffed. “Are you?” 

“Oh fuck you! I’m so nice!” 

“You froze that lady's account the other day.”

“She called me a bimbo!”

John chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, I want a drink, and being here longer than I have to makes me depressed.”

She let it leave her mind, for a while. Let the words Mr. Taylor said to her float away as she and John played a few rounds of darts over beer and nachos- each of them refusing to talk about work when they were outside of it. Instead, they threatened to ping each other with darts and argued over the jukebox selections, and by the end of the night they giggled in a bathroom stall while using a Sharpie to add to the graffiti. Immature, maybe, but John seemed to bring out the worst in her, egging her on until she broke- hissing at her to “stop drawing the cocks so big, it’s more unsettling if they're flaccid.”

But later, in the relative quiet of her small apartment, Vivian thought about it, stewing over her manager's words as she drank down a glass of cold water and a handful of ibuprofen.

Mr. Hamato hadn’t complained, and that was a relief. She’d only been in New York City for just over two measly months, was only able to afford her questionably located apartment because of a payout she’d taken at her last job, back in Iowa, and she couldn’t afford to get fired. Not with how expensive everything was. 

God, everything was so expensive. Rent alone had her scraping to get by- even when she took a second job cleaning office buildings on the weekends. And never mind utilities and groceries and cab fare when she needed to get home from a night out with John. It left hardly any time at all to just enjoy herself, to enjoy this new lease on life. Her wings might be unclipped, but she hadn’t really been able to stretch them.

You always knew this was going to be hard. Moving to a new city, not knowing anyone. Suck it up. 

The pep talk was one she gave herself often. 

Still, Mr. Hamato hadn’t complained, and it was a relief. She might not love her job, might not even like it, but the bulk of what she earned came from the eight-to-five. She needed it, was lucky to have it, and teasing some good-looking mutant wasn’t worth the potential loss. 

So why had Mr. Taylor asked her about him? Why had he looked so worried, so nervous? Why had he seemed relieved when she’d said he’d left happy? And why oh why was he so special that she and John and everyone else who worked in the bank were told to be accommodating? Nice?

Not your circus, she thought to herself, frowning at her empty glass of water, head spinning a little from the cheap IPA still sloshing around in her stomach. Remember? Mind your business. Keep your head down. 

The thought wouldn’t leave, though. She stopped herself from searching his name on Google, showering as quickly as she could (the water heater afforded exactly three minutes of uninterrupted hot water), and crawled into bed with a loud yawn. She didn’t need to know, and she certainly didn’t need to care. He’d liked her, she thought. He’d liked the teasing, the banter. He’d flirted with her. 

Even under the covers, hours between herself and Leonardo telling her he liked the view, her cheeks blossomed pink. God, she needed to get laid, if that was all it took to get her worked up. 

Him being a literal fucking tank hadn’t hurt, though. Neither had the stormy gray eyes or the easy smile or the laugh lines. Which was stupid, probably. He looked tired and had a scar on his lip (and she shushed her mind when it tried to insist that those features made him hotter, somehow), and he exuded too much confidence. The kind of confidence that people only got when they weren’t used to being told no, she thought. He just screamed that he was the kind of man who didn’t know how to do anything but flirt, and she decided, too, that he must have a laundry list of bodies in and out of his bed. 

Be kind, you don’t know that.

Maybe not. But what she did know was that she hadn’t moved to New York just to get caught up in another man. Hell no. 

Still, Mr. Taylor’s words echoed in her mind as she drifted off to sleep, three alarms set for the morning so she wouldn’t miss her wake-up call.

Who the hell was Leonardo Hamato, that she had to tiptoe around him?

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Familia mea mea est domus – My family is my home

I loved @mistydeyes medical checkup thingy here and got a little inspired, so thanks for that, hun

Unedited because I wrote this on a whim

Tagging my usuals that asked, just because: @glitterypirateduck @letsreadallday @jamesrifftapes @sofasoap @mmyrrhh

A soft knock on his office's door made Price look up briefly.

''Come in''

The door opened swiftly, even before the last word was uttered, and Riot stepped inside, closing behind her hurriedly. Then, without asking, she all but collapsed on the chair in front of him.

''Oh, good you're here, I need clarification on what this means, my German is a bit rusty...'' Price leaned back in his chair, leaving his fountain pen and looking up again, but the slight grin on his face disappeared when he saw her eyes.

Her haunted, wide eyes.

''Kid''

Riot's blue-gray eyes - no, Christine's - looked straight into his, unblinking, and he noticed that just as she sat down, her right knee had started bouncing wildly.

''I have my physical checkup'' Even her voice sounded lower than normal, strained, controlled. ''In half an hour''

''I know'' Price nodded, still lost about what could have happened. ''What's the matter, kid?''

''Can you come with me?''

''... what?''

She moved slightly in the chair, visibly uncomfortable, but her eyes didn't waver and still stared at him, desperate, pleading.

''In my file there's specifications that say I only want female personnel in the physical checkup'' When Price nodded again, Christine tried to overcome the knot in her throat. ''I was just there. There's only male personnel working at the moment. They told me Dr. Benítez was on break and wouldn't be back till noon''

''Can't they move your appointment to when she's in?'' Price was already shutting down his laptop, knowing where this was going, and feeling the exasperation boiling inside. Fucking idiots everywhere.

''They said I could either do the checkup now with the personnel that was in or they would put in my file that I refused to do it'' Christine's voice was even lower now, her fingers tapping furiously on her thighs, and her right knee still bouncing. ''Price, I can't...''

Half an hour later, Price was sitting uncomfortably right in front of the door of the room where Dr. Benitez and a female nurse were performing the physical exam on Sgt. Vega. It had cost him only five minutes of raising his voice at the incompetent idiot in charge of the clinic for the day, and a personal call to Dr. Benitez's phone (who had been appalled by the situation and cut her break short, God blessed that woman, and told off herself the idiots at the reception).

''I know. I'll fix this'' Price stood up and walked around his desk to offer his hand to her. ''Come on, kid, we're gonna give them a piece of our minds''

*

To pass the time, he had sent a text to Heather, explaining the situation, and her answer had been almost instant, and indignant.

I personally put in her file she was NOT to be examined physically by any male presenting person. I'm going to raise hell at whoever is ignoring the personal notes in people's files.

Great, now Heather was in the warpath too. Sighing, Price was about to put his phone away when he got a message from Nikolai, some stupid short video of something he had found on the internet.

For a second he considered telling him, but decided against it. There was no need to have an angry Russian mercenary storming into the base demanding to behead someone for upsetting his solnysh... solhn... his sunshine.

Price also wondered why she hadn't asked Soap or Gaz, or Ghost, but was still musing over it when the door opened and Christine stepped out, talking with Dr. Benitez.

It was like night and day. Now she looked her usual self, or at least her usual masking self, chatty and bright, confident and brilliant. Dr. Benitez nodded at Price and then went back inside, and Christine walked over to him as he stood up.

''All set, kid?''

''All set, sir'' She smiled, and then offered him a lollipop. Price stared at it for a second and then at her eyes, unable to avoid grinning when he saw the usual mischief in there. How in the world he had ended with two Soap in the same unit was beyond him, but it made him feel thankful everyday.

''Really? A lollie?''

''She gave me one and I asked for another one for you'' Christine shrugged, with a cheeky grin. He noticed with sadness how the left corner of her lips was uneven, twisted due to the scar, but he admired her 'fuck it all' attitude about it and her refusal to wear her mask most of the time.

''Oh, thank you then'' Price accepted the lollipop and both unwrapped them as they walked to the exit. ''I'm glad I was still around to come with you. I bet if Ghost, Soap and Gaz had arrived sooner from the drill with the rookies they would have been happy to accompany you''

Christine hummed quietly, enjoying the lollipop, but when he finished talking she looked up at him.

''They were already back when I asked you''

Price opened the door for her, and stared at her hair as she stepped out. She had gone to him, for support and safety, even when she could have chosen any of the other Sergeants or Ghost. Price was well aware of the something brewing between the Lieutenant and her, and that her and Soap were practically siblings, and that Gaz and her were thick as thieves too... but still, she had sought him out instead of them... His heart swelled.

''Alright, sunshine'' Price ruffled her hair playfully, grinning when she protested. ''I think we've earned a coffee. Let's go find the rest of the muppets. My treat''

[just-prime]

8 : Oh so boring

The horrifying MCU-ification of the Star Wars universe is in horrific display as 8 episodes lead nowhere but setup.

Before I get to everything else, I do want to say, Ray Stevenson's passing is a true tragedy, and I appreciate the love and care he clearly put into his character. He was the only compelling one, and I shudder to think of how Disney will probably heartlessly recast.

Now, on to the episode

Well, all the leaks that said it was zombies were right, to the surprise of no one. This is the MCU now, we need something more than just a fuck ton of stormtroopers to blow through, we need an undead CGI army.

First off : The Jedi, The Witch, and The Warlord...FUCK OFF FILONI. YOU ARE NOT CUTE.

The show opens with the attempt to lull Legends fans back into a Sion reference for no reason. Also, Thrawn's super baggy pants seem unnecessary, especially since the design in Rebels always has him in perfectly tailored clothes. Nothing during his decade abroad that would have cause the pants to change that drastically, so it just feels like an unnecessary change that is not an attractive look :(

Morgan's power ups make no sense, and as soon as she got them she was going to die. Her eyes had me making a half dozen Supernatural jokes for obvious reasons. The whole "Blade of Talzin" thing is also very dumb given the fact that I assume Mother Talzin would have used every weapon in her arsenal to stop Grievous, and I would think a lightsaber proof sword is on that list.

The entire "Ezra makes himself a new lightsaber" scene filled me rage for a few reasons.

A) Ezra literally just turned down Sabine's offer of the lightsaber for the martial arts force powers which we never see him use again.

B) Huyang knowing about Caleb and Kanan being the same person feels kinda weird to me to be perfectly honest.

C) Ezra's new lightsaber is boring. Full stop. This is the kid who built a gun into his first one, it makes no sense that he'd make one that looks this mediocre.

D) All of Sabine's family dying horrible deaths on Mandalore has always struck me as a cop out. It's just lazy writing to isolate Sabine.

The Stakes

Spoiler alert : THERE ARE NONE

We knew this was going to end in a cliffhanger for a while now, which means none of the main cast was going to die. Morgan has always been a means to an end for Thrawn, not that her loyalty was ever explain...But none of our heroes were gonna bite it (regardless of how I hoped for Huyang to explode) so there were no stakes. Thrawn had to escape, despite the fact that he is weirdly shaken, so he does. Ezra had to get home, so he does. Sabine and Ahsoka are now trapped on some stupid Mortis world??? Okay, pause, I'm getting ahead of myself here...because before that...

Sabine has the Force now

My deepest condolences to anyone who is finding this out from me, but Sabine is offically confirmed and shown to be Force sensitive. Yes it is dumb. Yes it makes no sense. Yes this is something we all saw being foreshadowed from day one, unfortunately. Especially with the playing down of her Mandalorian-ness (she's constantly losing her helmet, her gun accuracy has utterly gone, she barely uses her gauntlets, etc etc) it was obvious that Filoni wanted to do with her, what he was too cowardly to do with Grogu.

Other miscellaneous shit

It turns out that Ahsoka's shuttle is Jedi era...which makes no fucking sense.

The nightsisters being totally on board with the Empire feels like their ability to tell what's going on in the main universe might be a bit sketchy do to the fact that they missed that the guy in charge of the Empire is the one who ordered Dathomir razzed.

100% of the problems that the gang run into would have been solved if Sabine had a fucking jetpack

They pull the "Thrawn knew Anakin" card out of nowhere in the dumbest possible way, which really just goes to show how much FIloni hates the new canon Thrawn books.

Chopper recognizes Ezra (which was rather cute) before Hera does, because he decides to show up on a New Republic cruiser in full Thrawn stormtrooper garb. Also we don't even get a hug between Hera and Ezra.

Shin (because she exists, remember?) who is also stranded now, goes and appears to be taking over the bandit camp we saw earlier. Have no idea where they are taking that...but honestly, good for Shin doing something for her, this seems like a selfcare move.

Now, the ending...Fucking Mortis

So, the final shot we get of Baylan, he is standing on a giant statue of The Father (there is a statue of The Son, and a destroyed statue of The Daughter) pointing out towards something on the horizon.

Back at the hermit crab people camp, Ahsoka and Sabine (and fucking Anakin's ghost, because that's right people, instead of hanging out with his son, Anakin has been just hovering over Ahsoka this whole time apparently) here this chirping, and it's a fucking creepy hyper realistic CGI Morai.

So yeah, that's clearly how all of the trapped characters are going to get off this planet...the World between Worlds. Now, this brings up a fuck ton more questions...Chief of all being how did Ezra not use this to escape years ago???

And I get that Mortis is not everybody's favorite Clone Wars arc. Which is fair. I don't hate it, but I never loved it, and Filoni dragging in the dumbest piece of Force lore that he created is infuriating. ESPECIALLY with this being so obviously aimed at those who've not watched Clone Wars or Rebels. I'm curious to see how much he immediately recons about it, given that it's been his go-to move since before even Mando s3...

I fear they're going to do something like "Bayan is The Father, Ahsoka is The Daughter, and Shin and Sabine have to fight over being The Son" or some stupid bullshit like that.

I'm glad this is the last Filoni property we're getting for a while, since I'm pretty sure he's not involved with Skeleton Crew at all writing-wise.

I am just so happy it's over!

In the meantime, if you are as annoyed at Filoni as I am, spite him by reading the new canon Thrawn books!!! They are really fantastic and give Thrawn a lot of facinating depth, along with having an incredible cast of side characters.

For those of you who are new or just finding me because of my Ahsoka rants, please stick around!!! I'm sure I will be having other annoyed Ahsoka thoughts in the weeks to come as I think back about the full series and about just everything that it's fucked up. Feel free to pop into my ask box if you're curious about my other Star Wars related opinions, I'm more than happy to answer, though know that for the majority of the recent shows, I do not look fondly.

But if you are looking for some vindication on not enjoying recent Star Wars things, then this is the blog for you!!!

[victor-aguilar]

okay so a lot happens. i am this movies #1 hater but i will describe it for you anyway <3

so basically a good amount of years after the last move, and all of the main characters (minus carlos obv) have been written out because they're going on an adventure. so uma's in charge of the school and decides to call the daughter of the queen of hearts to auradon, because apparently the queen of hearts is so evil that she just made wonderland an independent city state. anyways red is a Rebel and vandalizes her own property (the castle), and the mad hatter decides that she gets to know about his Super Special Time Machine but she can't use it until she's older because she's too young or wtv. but she steals it anyway because otherwise there's no plot.

the letter arrives the next morning and the queen surprisingly lets red go to auradon because she thinks it's a good opportunity for her. this is weird because the queen of hearts is The Queen Of Hearts but it's written off as her just being a decent parent. at the same time, the daughter of cinderella, chloe, was invited as well. (sidenote but chad is apparently in college. they're siblings but he's just written out). so basically both families arrive at the school and are about to celebrate when the queen of hearts, shockingly, decides that she wants to take over auradon. cinderella tries to stop her, and we learn that the queen of hearts (apparently named bridget) was pranked at her school dance and cinderella (obviously named ella) did nothing to stop it. anyways red gets pressured by her mom to sentence cinderella to treason, chloe tries to stop her, and red activates the time machine.

at this point we have about half of the movie left. you may be wondering "hey, why hasn't anything happened yet?" my answer is that everything happens in the final twenty minutes. but anyways here's some more build up. the girls find their moms when they were teenagers: ella is stereotypical fantasy leftist and bridget is literally if pinkie pie was a person. they meet ursula's sister, uliana (NOT morgana from the 2000s sequel for some reason), and figure that she's the one who's gonna pull the prank.

now, we have ten minutes left. no joke. watch the movie yourself if you don't believe me. anyways, in said ten minutes, red and chloe break into the principal's office, but are then stopped by uliana, who tries to steal the prank book thing. but the book is cursed so she can't open it. plot hole. anyways red can open it because she's a good person and they decide to go back in time to see if they fixed everything and they did. bridget is good now. the end. sigh.

no, we don't get to see the dance. no, we don't get to see the actual prank. and no, we do not get to see the proper aftermath of the time fuckery that happened. but hey, at least we got "you didn't think this was the end of the story, did you?" which means more movies. hopefully better ones.

srry for being pessimistic it's just. bad.

Holy fucking hell, it's so much more worse than I thought.