#and the tension at first would be delicious until eventually they got over themselves and saved each other

[chronicowboy]

Saw the phrase miss congeniality au and my brain broke for a moment it would actually kill me

and what is it killing you exactly? lonely fbi agent eddie diaz who gets on with his co-worker hen but the only time they hang out outside of work is when he drops his other best friend (his seven year old son) off at hen's house for a sleepover with her kid because he can't keep using his abuela and tia for free childcare and especially not when he's off work and able to look after his son for himself, lonely fbi agent eddie diaz who is haunted by people he couldn't save and defies an order to try and save someone else only to get a bullet for his troubles, lonely fbi agent who is fresh off injury leave and immediately assigned undercover work in the mr united states pageant which not only takes him away from his son but has him constantly surrounded by narcissistic vain airheads in speedos, except then he meets mr pennsylvania, evan buckley, who is bright and passionate and knows a worrying amount of facts about a whale that sings at a frequency no other whale can understand, evan buckley who is so goddamn lonely but loves so goddamn deeply that eddie's screwed from the moment he sits next to him on the bus, evan buckley who finds out he has a kid and immediately warms up to him like they aren't actively competing against each other, evan buckley who sees the way eddie can't bear looking at the bullet wound in his shoulder and stops trying to cover up the scars on his leg the very next day and eddie finally daring to disobey another order just to save evan buckley.

[aemonds-sapphire]

Take a Seat — Hawks x Reader

You tell Hawks you can’t stand him; he tells you to take a seat.

Warnings: NSFW. Face riding. Oral sex. Feather play. Masturbation. Exhibitionism.

Word count: 1.7k

“Hawks!”

Your screech reverberated through the walls of his bedroom.

The pro hero reckoned it wouldn’t take much longer before your angry voice was heard yet again.

“KEIGO!”

There it was.

A wave of satisfaction ran along his entire body and all the way through to his wings, ruffling the feathers in the process.

“I am going to kill you!” you bellowed in frustration from inside the bathroom. “I am going to be late!”

Hawks dreaded having to part ways with you on his day off. He rarely managed to get enough free time as it was, and now he’d have to watch you go to work, postponing his need to shower you with attention and love.

But Hawks’ playful antics always found a way to surface whenever the occasion called for it.

So he decided to steal your clothes and bath towel while you were taking a hurried shower.

It proved to be enough to kindle your anger and frustration, which would only work in his favor in the end.

As soon as your burst into the bedroom, dripping wet and ready to pounce him, Hawks felt a rush of blood flooding downwards with a subtle tingling sensation.

“What did you do with my clothes?” you growled, taking large steps in his direction. “I’m gonna be late for work!”

Hawks shrugged, thankful that his every growing erection was neatly hidden away from you under the bed cover.

He watched in sheer delight as you grabbed one pillow and tossed it at him, which he promptly deflected with one of his feathers.

“You are so annoying!” you sighed in exasperation.

A teasing smile curled his lips. Getting under your skin was one of his favorite pastimes. It got you all riled up with this pent-up tension that he’d so gladly fuck out of you.

But then something else crossed his mind.

Oh… you were going to flip at this.

But he was feeling particularly daring and willing to push you a little more than usual.

“I’m feeling feverish….” he started, making use of his top-level actor skills to twist his features into a pout. “And there’s this pain….”

And just like clockwork, the visible traces of anger on your face faded into a worried look.

You sat naked on his edge of the bed, placing the back of your hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

“Where does it hurt?”

Hawks lifted the comforter, revealing his hard cock to you. “Here.”

Just as he had anticipated, you immediately scowled at how shameless he was.

“I was seriously worried! You damn bird!”

And just as you stood up and were about to smack him, he took the opportunity to grab both your wrists and had you swing on top of him at lightning speed until you were sitting on his bare torso.

You tried to jerk free from his grasp. “Hawks! I’m gonna be late!”

He honestly couldn’t care less. Having you fully naked and on top of him only fueled his desire for you.

“I’ll fly you there,” he said with a devious smile as he ruffled his wings along the mattress like a haughty peacock. “C’mon…”

Once again, you yanked both arms in an attempt to break free, but all in vain. He was far too strong, and he justwasn’t going to let go of you just yet.

“Ugh! I can’t stand you!” you huffed in annoyance.

What a blatant lie.

All that forced outrage had his cock twitch in anticipation. How he adored fucking you into submission, peeling off all those layers that you so vehemently insisted on keeping on just to give him a hard time.

He loved your brattiness.

“Sit on my face.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

Hawks wanted to let go of his hold on you have his hands cup your breasts, but he remained still just in case.

“Let me eat you out,” he insisted, rubbing his thumbs along the pulse points in your wrists.

You faltered briefly when you clenched your thighs around him.

“You’re so…”

“Charming.”

You shook your head. “No.”

Hawks let go of you, knowing fully well he had you trapped.

“Handsome?”

“Annoying!”

He flashed his trademark grin. “Annoyingly handsome? I know!”

With one hand, he smacked your ass lightly, but you didn’t budge.

“I just took a shower… and I don’t want to be late for work…”

Hawks was a patient man, but not this patient. “Then stop wasting time and ride my face.”

You hesitated at first, but caved in eventually. He slid down his pillow so that he could be the perfect seat for your pussy. Carefully, you lifted yourself from him before finally settling directly above his face.

He nodded eagerly, nearly letting out a groan at the mouthwatering sight of your pussy in close proximity with his hungry mouth.

A sigh if relieved rumbled across his chest the moment you were fully sitting on him, and he instinctively brought both hands to grip your thighs. The delicious moan that escaped your lips was incentive enough for him, and without much effort he parted his lips and delved his tongue deep inside your warm pussy.

“Oh…”

You were so fucking adorable. Still surprised that he could deliver all that pleasure with just a few stroked of his skillful muscle? After all this time of having you all to himself?

Your folds encased the corners of his mouth, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

And he didn’t plan to.

In fact, he planned on spicing things up.

He knew far too well that this, however, would prove to be not only insanely pleasurable for you but also for him.

A single crimson feather went up in the air and settled right between your legs.

An intense shiver ran down his spine as he was able to capture the pulse from your throbbing clit.

See, Hawks’ feathers came in extremely handy in these situations, because it granted him the ability to sense vibrations around them. So, your puffy clit’s thudding was immediately felt along his entire body. All the way to his cock, causing his hips to shoot up reflexively.

“K-Keigo! Not… not the—“

Your words faded and morphed into a pleasurable moan as soon as the tiny feather began drawing small circles along your clit.

Hawks was still able to watch you gripping the headboard for support, before shutting his eyes as overwhelming bliss filled him. His cock throbbed with each heartbeart, the skin at the base pulling as he hardened even more.

He kept tongue-fucking you, drinking in your juices and your moans. Your wetness was now spreading across his chin, and he brought one of his hands to free his cock from the heavy fabric of the comforter, allowing it to spring free. The dire need to fuck you was ever-growing, but he wanted you to cum on his face this time.

His feather was kept tightly pressed against you, and such stimulation caused your hips to buck and jerk, forcing his other hand to increase his grip on you to keep you in place.

“Oh… oh… fuck—fuck—fuck!”

Hawks had had years to perfect his quirk and he was fully able to bend his feathers to his will using nothing but his mind to control them.

You were done for.

And so was he.

He wrapped his fingers around his leaking cock, yearning for nothing more than relief. It was becoming unbearable to feel your heartbeat invade his mind and travel down his body in rhythmic waves of pleasure.

A high-pitched moan fell from your lips. “Keigo! Please… it’s… it’s…” too much. Yes, it was.

The obscene slurping sounds coming from him were enough to have his hips jerk once again as he fucked his hand desperately.

He was too damn close.

He was fully aware that using one of his feathers drastically hindered his endurance. There was only so much he could withstand while having a hot girl riding his face.

Soon enough, he felt your thighs begin to quiver and he had the feather lap at your clit more avidly while keeping his tongue sliding in and out of your soaked pussy.

With a few more jerks from your hips, you were catapulted into your orgasm, spasming violently into his face while raking your fingers through his hair before gripping a few strands forcefully.

“Good… good boy!” you groaned in ecstasy as a gush of your wetness flooded his tongue.

Not long after, he felt your legs spasm uncontrollably. And he didn’t just feel this because they were tightening around his head; he felt your every contraction and twitch thanks to his feather still lodged between your swollen folds.

And that was what immediately pushed him over the edge. The overwhelming pleasure took over him completely, and he reached the point of no return. Hot spurts of cum shot from his tip with each spasm of his own body; the muscles in his thighs and lower abdomen tightened along with his balls. His wings stretched on either side of him and he felt a stack of feathers shoot out in both directions and carving themselves into the furniture and walls.

A few strands of hot liquid coat his fingers, but he didn’t care. His own heartbeat pounded insanely loud inside his ears and he stopped breathing for a moment as a gutural growl ripped through his throat.

You slid off to the side, allowing his animalistic groans to echo around the both of you.

Hawks took pride in having enviable stamina, but a powerful orgasm was still enough to have him panting and feeling lightheaded. Your juices were spread across his chin and lips and jaw as a few drops ran down his neck.

“I still hate you…” you struggled to say in between pants.

He licked the excess liquid from his lips, locking eyes with your hazy ones. “Want me to give you another orgasm?”

“I’m gonna be late!” you protested, sliding out of bed and nearly tripping as your legs wobbled from having your leg muscles strained.

Hawks couldn’t help but to laugh as your struggled to keep your balance.

“C’mon. I’ll fly you there. I doubt you’ll be able to walk, anyways.”

He was thankful to his fast reflexes as a feather prevented yet another pillow from reaching his face.

-

Masterlist

-

@dabiboy (since you wanted to be tagged 🥺)

[myherowritings]

PART 7. WHAT’S BETTER THAN EATING THE RICH? THE RICH EATING YOU OUT

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 4.7k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. the filthiest thing i’ve ever written, fem!reader for this part and shouto uses “princess” an excessive amount of times, sir kink i’m sorry, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (just bc i totally forgot abt condoms ok my bad), too much foreplay?, shouto’s a soft dom i think?, very much so 18+!!! and the title is exactly what it sounds like

A/N. here we are !! the final part !! my first shouto series i didn’t put on hiatus LMAO,, the moment you’ve all been waiting for HFSJKG ;) this was very fun to write i hope it’s not too bad BHFBDSHS i’m so in love with ceo!shouto and this series was my fav to write in a while!! now without further ado pls enjoy some smut with feelings :3 xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

You almost didn’t make it into the elevator to Shouto’s penthouse before you wanted to pounce on him, but to your complete frustration, he was showing such restraint that the only contact he let you make was holding his hand. 

For someone who was so eager to kiss you earlier, he was showing a lot of patience now, you thought with a huff. 

You tapped your foot against the tile flooring as Shouto took his sweet time unlocking his suite. Even when he entered, instead of taking you straight to the bedroom like you anticipated, he pulled out two glasses and filled them with water. 

Handing you one, he asked, “Did you want something to eat?” 

“No. ‘M not hungry right now,” you mumbled, trying not to appear too pouty. 

Apparently, it didn’t work very well since he stifled an amused chuckle. “How about some water?” 

Your eyes narrowed but you begrudgingly accepted the glass. “Hmph.” 

“Someone seems a little tired right now, hmm?” he placed his glass down and led you towards his bedroom. “Maybe we should go straight to sleep—”

You couldn’t help yourself any longer. “Shouto,” you whined, drawing out the ‘o’ sounds, your lower lip jutting outwards in a frown.

“Yes, Y/N?” His tone was too innocent for the events he had in mind for the night. 

“If you don’t take me to bed and fuck me right now, I’ll…”

“You’ll…?” Shouto teased, but the darkened gaze in his eyes told you his own restraint was wearing thin. 

You turned away with a huff. “I’ll be upset!” 

“Well, we don’t want that.” He laced his fingers through yours, bringing your hands up to his lips to give them a kiss. You were slightly placated, but that was still nowhere near the amount of contact you desired. “But I think you’d find it more comfortable if we continue this with your dress off first. Come.” 

Your stomach clenched at the simple command and you willfully followed behind him into the second door to the right. You hardly had time to admire the design of his room and size of his bed before Shouto moved from his spot next to you to one behind you. He placed one hand on where your waist met your hip and the other on the small of your back, making your spine straighten at the touch. 

“Did you need help taking your dress off?” he asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. 

“Yes, please, sir,” was your airy reply. 

His breath caught in his throat and his grip on you tightened. When he spoke, his voice was hoarser than normal. “Since you asked so nicely.”

So, he liked when you called him sir? You made a mental note of that with a smirk. 

But your cocky expression didn’t last very long when Shouto skillfully unfastened the top few buttons of your dress, softly placing his lips on your now exposed skin and gently planting kisses all the way down your back. He didn’t stop until he reached the curve of your ass, unbuttoning the final button and nipping a kiss right at the base of your spine. You jolted, hugging the fabric of the dress to your chest so you wouldn’t be completely exposed. 

“Finished unbuttoning your dress for you, princess,” he said, placing one final kiss on your spine before gently twirling you around to face him. At your flustered gaze, he smiled. “Now what would you like for me to do to you?” 

You lifted your chin despite your slight embarrassment at having to voice your desires. “I want you to kiss me.”

“Hm. Have I not been kissing you this whole time?” 

“On the lips,” you emphasized, tugging at his tie as you tried to pull him closer to you. You batted your lashes at him. “Could you please kiss me on the lips, sir?” 

A small chuckle escaped him, but he was happy to oblige. “You know, you’d be good in business. You certainly know what to say to get what you want, hmm?”

You answered with a smile as he finally—fucking finally, after a whole week of waiting—pressed his lips against yours. They were soft and warm and tasted like strawberries and ice cream, his favorite flavor of the candies the two of you stole from the gala. 

Delicious. 

Shouto must’ve thought the same thing since, not long after the start of the kiss, he coaxed your mouth open with his tongue, deepening the movements, one hand softly cupping the area where your head met your neck while the other was hot against your exposed lower back. He applied the slightest bit of pressure at the right time—just enough to make you sigh in pleasure. 

Your own hands found a way to tangle themselves in Shouto’s hair, completely abandoning their job clutching your dress to your body. Now, you were so tightly pressed up against him, the only thing that could possibly keep the fabric up was his chest against your own. One sudden movement and it might just…  

He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth and you jumped, gasping at how good the light stinging sensation felt. You felt your dress slip down your body to expose the swell of your breasts, but before it could fall any further, Shouto gingerly picked you up and laid you down on his bed. 

“Oh—” you managed to say as your head landed on a pillow and your back on the plush, silk sheets that covered the mattress.

His left arm rested on the pillow beside your head as he hovered over you. “Have something to say, princess?”

“Y-You may continue,” you sniffed, lifting your chin up. Your heart skipped a beat at the teasing pet name and then another beat when Shouto leaned down to give you a kiss. But instead of landing on your mouth again, he chose to leave an open-mouthed kiss on the sensitive part of your neck, gently biting and sucking at the skin. 

His feathery light touches tickled you, your nerves working on overdrive and every stroke feeling like it was amplified. You couldn’t help but giggle at his soft nibble and he paused to look at you questioningly. 

“Tickles,” you replied, laughing at his confused expression. “But it feels nice.”

Shouto hummed, the vibrations buzzing against your neck. “That’s good to hear.”

Returning to your lips, he kissed you with a smile creeping on his face and you returned it. His forehead rested against yours as you toyed with the fabric on the front of his suit. You unknotted his tie as your lips clashed against each other, the motion no longer soft and gentle but instead more fervent and intense. 

Finally getting his tie to come undone, you flung it off the bed and worked to unbutton his shirt collar, not caring if it got wrinkled in the process. Shouto reciprocated the eagerness by sucking the tip of your tongue with his mouth before pulling away from you completely. 

A whimper left your lips at the sudden loss of warmth and you couldn’t help but pout, grabbing at his shirt again to pull him back.

“Be a good girl and be patient, okay?” he said, running the tip of his index finger against your jawline. 

You huffed. “I’ve been plenty patient. I want you to do something now!” 

In other times, you’d probably be embarrassed about how whiny you sounded, but at this moment all you wanted was for Shouto to finally touch you more. 

He nipped at your collarbone before looking down at you. “Hm. Are you a princess or a brat?”

“I can be both. I’m very multifaceted,” you said haughtily, sticking your tongue out to let him know you were only joking. 

“You are,” he agreed. 

It seemed Shouto decided to finally listen to your pleas since his attention swiftly returned to that of your neck, dragging his lips down until he reached the swell of your breast. Over the fabric of your dress that was barely clinging onto you, he placed wet, open-mouthed kisses over your chest, his teeth accidentally grazing against your nipple. 

You cried out quietly and he felt encouraged by the sound, this time taking your peak into his mouth with purpose. He formed his mouth into the shape of an ‘o’ and softly sucked your nipple, the tip of his tongue making circles around the bud. His saliva wet the fabric of your dress, leaving you to shiver at the cold against your wet breast when he pulled away from you. 

“S-Shouto,” you whimpered, squeezing your legs together to relieve some of the tension. “More.”

“More? What exactly do you mean by that?” 

“I want you to…” You gestured towards your body. 

“To what? Take your dress off and fuck you? Or just continue playing with your breasts?” he asked, listing off suggestions in a low rasp. He kissed below your chest and down your stomach all the way to your navel. “Or maybe you want me to go lower until I reach that pretty pussy of yours.”

You nodded fervidly, not trusting your voice. “A-All of the above?”

He chuckled in amusement but was ready to dutifully continue his work.

“But…” you murmured, running your hands down his half-unbuttoned shirt. “I want to see you too.” You looked down at his crotch area then back at his face, biting your lip nervously. “And I want to make sure you’re also having a good time.” 

A guttural noise sounded from the back of his throat as he ran his hands down your body, giving you an appreciative look. “I’m having the best time.” He kissed you chastely. “Are you?”

You looked like a mess sprawled out on his bed, dress half hanging onto your chest and the fabric of the skirt only covering one of your legs. You didn’t know for sure the state of your hair and makeup, but you were sure it was thoroughly roughed up as well. “I think it’s quite obvious I am, sir.” 

Shouto smirked, caressing your cheek with his knuckles. “Good.” 

Instead of answering him, you brought your fingers to the lower-half of his shirt, unfastening the final buttons and untucking it from his suit pants. His shirt hung open, exposing his lean yet muscular torso. You ran your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, absentmindedly brushing against his nipples which caused him to shiver. When you reached his collar, you threw the fabric behind his shoulders and he got the message to take his shirt off. 

“So pretty,” you whispered breathlessly.

“Your turn.” Slowly, Shouto slid down the silky fabric that was just barely covering your breasts all the way to your navel. He tapped your thigh and said, “Up,” and you immediately obliged, lifting your lower body up so he could remove the dress completely. 

Taking his sweet time—much to your frustration—he folded the dress and placed it on a dresser near his bed. When he turned his gaze back to you, you were holding your arms over your chest, feeling bare in nothing but your panties with sheer detailings. 

His stare burned holes into you. You felt like his gaze was leaving a trail of fire against your skin. Shouto’s expression looked sensual but soft as he admired you, giving you enough confidence to lay your arms down by your sides instead of over your chest. He zeroed in on your breasts as he gave them a kiss. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered and your cheeks burst into flames. Your whole body felt hot as you folded one leg over the other so he couldn’t see the arousal gathering at your thin undergarments.

Noticing the movement, he raised a brow at you and uncrossed your legs with his large but slender hand, his grip firm on your thigh to prevent you from covering yourself like that again. Shouto pressed one of your thighs into the bed with his palm, and your other thigh with the gentle weight of his knee, holding your legs open for him. 

The cool air from his room hit your wetness seeping through your underwear and you felt yourself clench around nothing. 

You shifted under his weight, desperate for some release. “Shouto, please.”

It seemed he no longer had the restraint to tease you further since he nodded, moving lower down the bed so his face was hovering above your clothed pussy. “May I?” 

“Fuck— Yes,” you moaned, core heating up in anticipation. 

Shouto landed his lips on your fabric-covered cunt, licking a stripe across your slit. Your growing arousal mixed with his spit through your panties, a lewd noise sounding when he pried the fabric away from your pussy. He slid them off your legs, holding it up to examine the arousal slick on the garments. As if he had no shame, he politely folded it and placed it on top of your dress with a smile. 

“T-That’s not what a gentleman would do,” you managed as he returned to his position in bed in front of your now-bare cunt. 

“And what is it that a gentleman would do, princess?” he whispered dangerously close to your most intimate parts. “This?”

Without warning, he tenderly kissed the bud between your legs. You moaned, legs attempting to kick out in surprise and pleasure, but they remained immobile since Shouto held them down in place. 

“Or perhaps this?” Shouto ran his tongue down your folds and back up to your clit, rubbing small and steady figure eights against the sensitive nub. 

“Yes!” you cried out, canting your hips towards his mouth in pleasure. “Oh, god— Yes to all of it. Please… Don’t stop.” 

“I won’t.” He hummed as he continued his ministrations on your pussy, the vibrations shooting right up your core and causing more wetness to seep out onto his face, but he didn’t let that bother him. In fact, it only seemed to encourage him further. 

Not removing his mouth from your clit for even a second, Shouto hooked one of your legs over his shoulder while leaving the other flat against the silky sheets of his mattress. He dragged his opened mouth down to your dripping pussy lips and entered into your slit with his tongue. The new position sent ever more waves of euphoria through you and Shouto licked and sucked at your folds. 

You lifted your hips higher and he nuzzled his head deeper, his tongue reaching places you had only ever imagined. The lewd noises of Shouto’s mouth smacking against your slick cunt filled the quiet room. As you moaned, your hands threaded themselves into the base of his hair, lightly tugging him even closer than either of you thought possible. 

With his hand that wasn’t holding your thigh down, Shouto found his way to your chest, reaching up to palm at your breast all while still sucking your pussy. He flicked your nipple and gently rubbed it with his thumb and forefinger. Your breathing hitched at the mix of sensations, your core tightening and heating up as Shouto continued to eat you out. “Fuck— Oh— Shouto!” you cried, unable to hold back the volume of your voice. 

As if he knew what was coming, he removed his hand from your breast and briefly paused, though his face was still resting against your thigh and pussy. “Not yet, princess. Do you think you can hold on for me?” 

You whimpered at the thought of postponing your release, but you trusted that he would make up for the wait. “Okay, sir. For you.”

“That’s my good girl.”

Shouto continued his attack on your cunt with his lips, this time bringing his hand down to rub lazy circles around your clit. His tongue was deep in you, his nose teasingly bumping against your sensitive bud as his fingers flicked against it harsher. Rougher. He nuzzled his head from side to side to hit places far within you as you whimpered and moaned. 

The stimulation of both his fingers and his mouth on your pussy was almost too much to handle as your thighs quivered and your cunt clenched uncontrollably. 

“S-Shouto, please I—” Your voice broke off as a moan of pleasure ripped through you. 

“You can come now, princess,” he murmured into your folds, the vibrations only pleasuring you even further. 

And so you did. 

You felt yourself orgasm as Shouto continued to suck at your cunt and brush against your clit, moving slower and more gently as you came down from your high. 

When he finally looked up from your pussy, the lower half of his face glistened with your fluids, sending you into another state of desire. There was something about the way he looked at you that made you want more of him. 

Shouto smiled as he wiped the fluids of your arousal and ecstacy on his chin with his index finger. Instead of taking it into his mouth, however, he held it in front of your lips. “Look at the mess you made for me, princess. See how good you taste.” 

After only a moment’s hesitation, you brought his finger that was coated in your arousal into your mouth, swirling your tongue around and sucking him, giving him an idea of what you would do if that were his cock. You released his finger with a soft ‘pop’ and smiled innocently at him. 

“Are you going to fuck me now or should I suck you off first, sir?” you asked, tone of voice all too pleasant. 

His bulge strained against the snug fit of his pants and you wanted nothing more than to relieve some of his pressure. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to take my cock into your mouth, but right now I just want to feel you around me. Is that okay?” 

“That’s fine with me!” You nodded eagerly, the thought of being filled up with Shouto now taking over your mind completely. 

He chuckled at your excitement, though he was feeling the same thing himself. Swiftly, he removed his belt and took off his suit pants. You helped by tugging his black boxer briefs down and watching gently stroking his erect shaft in awe. 

Was every part of Shouto pretty? He was just a gift that kept on giving. 

Your mouth almost watered in anticipation, biting your lip as he lowered you back against the mattress, your head falling onto the plush pillows. He positioned his member against your slit that was still dripping wet from his spit and your first orgasm. 

Shouto rubbed his tip against your already sensitive clit and your slightly parted folds, not yet entering deep enough to satisfy you. He moved his cock back and forth against your pussy as you both watched, the fluids of your arousal and his mixing for further lubrication. Your eyes were fixated on the sight, the thick head of his member disappearing into your sopping pussy lips before coming back out, slowly getting you prepared for his full length. 

It was sweet of him to be so patient, but you were on the verge of tears at the frustration you felt. “Please, Shouto! More.” 

“What should you call me again, princess?” he drawled, continuing the leisure movements of rubbing his head against your lips. The fluids smeared all over your pussy and dribbled down onto your thighs and his bedsheets. If you weren’t so aroused, you might’ve been a bit embarrassed. But there was no time for that when all you wanted at this very moment was for Shouto to fuck you silly. 

“Sir—!” you corrected yourself in a whimper. “Please, sir, I want your fat cock to fill me up.” 

He groaned at your words, pulling out of your folds until only the very tip of his dick was touching you and then thrusting forward into your wet depths as you let out a loud cry of pleasure. You felt a stretch inside you as you adjusted to his length, Shouto taking note of how you stiffened and giving you time to get more comfortable. 

He began to nibble at your breast, sucking and biting your perk nipples as your arousal built. He nipped you, causing you to gasp in surprise (a very pleasant surprise) before soothing the bite with his tongue. As you arched your back, he swirled the tip of his tongue around your nipple and you hooked your leg around his hips, pushing into his lower back with your calf to signal for more.

“Ready now?” 

You nodded fervently. 

“Words, princess.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you managed, voice shaky from your gratification being filled by Shouto. “Use my pussy to make you feel good. Please.”

“You always make me feel good, Y/N,” he said sincerely, removing his mouth from your breast to kiss you on the lips. Your tongues intertwined and you tasted yourself on him. “You’re amazing, you know?” 

You smiled into the kiss. “Show me how amazing you think I am with your cock then.”

“Anything for my princess.”

With that, he pounded into you, holding you at the waist to steady your squirming. You hitched your leg higher and higher around his back, canting your hips to let him thrust into you at deeper angles until he hit the spot. 

“Oh—! Oh, god,” you mewled in satisfaction, his cock making you feel so good you were certain your eyes almost rolled back into your head. “Fuck, right there, Shouto— Yes!” 

At your vocal encouragement, Shouto pushed into you even deeper, his swollen tip rubbing into you at the perfect angle. Your head lolled to the side and your cheek pressed against the soft pillow as you salivated at the intense feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of your weeping pussy. 

“Mn,” he made a noise, softly tapping your cheek. “Keep your eyes on me, princess. Don’t look away.” 

You struggled to blink away how dazed you felt, feeling so good it was almost unbearable. Somehow, you managed to turn your head back to face him, trying to hold eye contact. “‘M sorry. You feel so good,” you sighed contentedly. “Like your cock was made for me.” 

He held your leg higher and you just about screamed from pleasure. “You feel so good too,” he said, one hand stretching your leg up and the other reaching down to toy with your clit. “Never want this to end.” 

With his fingers and thumb rubbing against your clit and his member hitting your g-spot, you were certain your throat was going to grow hoarse by the end of the night from all your screaming. You swore you saw stars.

“Want to,” you panted, thrusting your hips up to match his movements, “do this...with you...every...day.” 

“Please.”

When his lips found your breast again to tug at your nipple, you couldn’t help yourself any longer. 

“S-Shouto, I— I’m going to come,” you told him, voice pleading. You really hoped he let you come. 

He hummed in agreement. “Me too. Come with me, princess.” 

You lifted his head from your breasts to meet your mouth, kissing into him as you both felt the sweet release of pleasure coursing through your bodies, all the way from the top of your head to the curl of your toes. 

His pace slowed as he carried the two of you through your highs. Shouto removed his finger from its position of making circles onto your clit to let you cool down with him. In a state of euphoria, you kissed him, both of you riding your orgasms until you felt nothing but completely happy and thoroughly satiated. 

Still not taking his lips off of yours, he moved from being on top of you to lying beside you. Your eyes fluttered shut even as you kissed, nuzzling into his hot, sticky body and ready to pass out. 

“‘M sleepy,” you mumbled onto his lips. You just wanted to stay like this. Forever if you could. 

Shouto smoothed down your brow, his thumb moving in gentle strokes. “Let’s get you cleaned up first, princess. Then you can sleep.”

The rational part of you knew it would be best to clean up. But your overwhelming desire was simply to never let go of him. “Wait! I still want you.” Lazily, you murmured, “Let’s do it again.”

“You’re about to fall asleep but you want to have another round?”

You nodded. “I...might fall asleep during it, but yes. Want to do it with you again and again.”

Shouto smiled, shaking his head in amusement. But you pouted. It wasn’t a joke, you meant it. You just wanted to stay by his side. 

“We can,” he said and you instantly brightened up, “another day.” You huffed. “When you can stand on your own two feet without falling over.”

Your lower lip jutted out in a frown. 

“Don’t look so down, princess.” He kissed the top of your head. “It can be tomorrow or the next day.”

Slowly, you perked up again. “Or the day after that? And the next day after that?”

With a laugh, he nodded. “Anytime you want me. I’m yours.”

“I’ll always want you, Shouto,” you told him sincerely, gazing into his eyes.

His face was colored a light pink, his hair plastered to his forehead, and his lips were swollen and bright red. He looked beautiful. It was a sight you’d never tire of.

“I’ll always want you too, Y/N. More than anything. I...love you.”

And in that moment, there was nothing else in the world you would rather hear. No one else you’d rather be with. You were happy to have Shouto and that was better than all the money in the world.

“I love you too.”

— ✩ —

A few days have passed since the fateful night you exchanged ‘I love you’s with Shouto and now you were back at work. 

As usual, you were working the morning shift with some cranky customers, trying your best to make the start of their day go as smoothly as possible. And, as per usual, Shouto walked into the cafe a few minutes after rush hour to spend a part of his morning with you.

“Good morning, sir. How can I help you today?” you said teasingly, giving him a brief kiss over the counter, chaste enough that no one else would notice but you two. 

“Morning, princess.” He smiled. “I’ll have a medium flat white, please.” 

“Of course. And could I interest you in some of our fresh pastries?” you laughed. “Oddly enough, we have your favorite today.”

He perked up at your words. “Cheese danishes?” 

“Yup!”

“I’ll have five boxes of a dozen, please.”

Humming to yourself, you entered his order into the register and told him the price. “Your order will be to your left when it’s completed,” you recited, knowing he’s heard this plenty of times before. After he paid and got ready to walk away from the counter, you playfully called out, “So, no tip this time?”

Shouto smirked, glancing back at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Maybe I can pick you up tonight and give you a tip then.”

“A...tip?” you asked, stifling a giggle behind your hands. “Was that an innuendo?”

“Innuendo—?” A look of realization crossed his face and his cheeks colored. 

You grinned to yourself. As confident and well put together Shouto could be (which you very much enjoyed and found incredibly attractive), you also got extreme pleasure in seeing him blush and grow flustered. 

“No… I didn’t intend it like that.” He paused, thinking on it. “Well, I guess I did. But I didn’t mean to make a pun of it…”

Your laughter rang out across the whole store, smile spreading bigger and bigger. “You’re cute, Shouto. Thanks for the laugh.” 

He looked sheepish but nodded. “Thanks for letting me hear your laugh. It’s radiant.”

“Smooth talker.” You stuck your tongue out. 

“Just the truth.”

“Hmm,” you sighed happily, a feeling of contentment and euphoria settling within you. “But about your tip…”

Shouto blushed. 

“I’d love to come over tonight,” you told him. “Any excuse to see my lovely boyfriend.”

“You never need an excuse to see me. Because I always want to be with you too.” 

The two of you kissed again, unable to help yourselves. Though it was brief and light, it still sent tingles down your spine. 

Shouto was sweeter than any cheese danish or chocolate croissant you could ever make, better than any tip you could ever receive, and you couldn’t wait to continue your life with him. 

a/n: omg...this is the end ╥﹏╥ thank you to every who read and commented and sent asks and just supported this series in general ! it was very fun to write and i have a toothache from all of shouto’s sweetness and fluff hfjhggg tysm for reading ily !! xx sof 

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 12

Chapter 1     Chapter 11

The dining room was only slightly less formal than the entry way.  It was decorated in deep tones and dark wood meant to evoke grandeur and pageantry. It still spoke of old money and cold families.  There was no evidence of laughter over inside jokes, gasping at stories about someone’s day, discussions of dreams, or fatherly advice doled out over a lovingly cooked dinner that everyone worked on together.

Marinette held back as everyone made their way into the dining room, letting them claim their usual seats, prepared to take whatever seat was left.  She was hoping to cause as little upset and disturbance as possible.  Her plan was foiled when Duke jumped up from his seat and moved down one spot.  “Hey, Marinette.  Take this seat.”  

Marinette opened her mouth to object but stopped when Jason put his hand on her back to guide her to the seat.  “Lost cause.  Don’t even bother,” he muttered low enough for her to hear.  Marinette looked back at him uncertainly but nodded in understanding. She breathed a small sigh of relief when Jason took the other seat next to her.

Dick pouted at the seating, but took the seat across from her instead, grabbing the seat quickly from the right as Tim was just about to drop into it from the left.  Tim grumbled something about annoying puppies and took the next seat over, causing Damian to scowl and redirect himself to a different seat. “Damian!” Dick called out to him. He patted the seat next to him.  

Damian huffed and sent Marinette a glare as he took his not normal seat beside Dick.  He squirmed in the seat.  It wasn’t his usual seat and he could feel the difference.  It felt off.  It felt wrong.  He didn’t like it at all.  This was not his routine.  This was not what he was comfortable with and it was all her fault.  They were playing a charade for her.  They were making themselves uncomfortable for her.

Marinette watched politely as M. Pennyworth set the plates down in front of everyone.  When he was done, he exited quietly.  Marinette watched him leave the room as the rest of the family took bites of their food.  M. Wayne had called M. Pennyworth a father and Jason had called him a grandfather, but he didn’t eat with them?  And addressed them all as Master or Miss?  Did none of them know what family was supposed to be?  What it was supposed to mean?  Because that, wasn’t it.  And honestly, if that’s what they thought it was, she had serious concerns about joining their ‘family’.

She looked back to Jason and tried to send him a message with her eyes to ask him about it without having to say it out loud and draw attention to herself.  She cleared her throat quietly, hoping it was quiet enough that just Jason would hear but everyone looked at her.  She looked at their eyes before returning hers to her plate.  “Sorry,” she said quietly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bruce said kindly.  His eyes were filled with concern and a touch of worry.  He wanted her to eventually feel like this was her home too and if he wanted that to happen, she needed to feel comfortable here.  “Did you need anything?”

“No, no, no,” Marinette insisted, shaking her head and sending him a weak smile.  “It’s nothing.  The dinner looks amazing.”

“If there’s anything you don’t like…” Bruce started.

“No!  Of course not,” Marinette exclaimed.  “This looks really delicious.”  She was waving her hands frantically.  It was all going wrong already.  She was causing a commotion.  From the moment she’d walked into his life, she’d caused nothing but commotion.  She was really hoping to break the cycle tonight and get closer to the kids in the family.

Bruce watched her uncertainly, but nodded.  “Because if you want anything else, we have a huge kitchen and pantry,” Bruce tried to assure her.

Marinette’s eyes grew even bigger and her movements more frantic.  “Jesus, B. Lay off her.  She already said she was fine,” Jason grumbled.  “You’re going to give her a complex.”

Somehow, Marinette’s eyes got wider and her face went slack.  “No, no. It’s fine.”  She turned to Bruce with a desperate look.  “I’m fine.  Thank you for your concern.”

“Marinette,” Bruce stated with a touch of exasperation. He didn’t know what he had to do to get her relax, to get her to believe she wasn’t going to make him not want her. “Just let me know.”

Marinette nodded rapidly.  “Of course.”  She looked around the room taking note of the pasted on, polite smiles while they took silent bites.  She could feel her shoulders curling in on her as the quiet continued.

“How was your day today?” Bruce prompted Marinette after the first few bites in uncomfortable silence.

She nearly dropped her fork in surprise.  “Oh, it was pretty good,” she answered with a polite smile.  And oh God, this was the most awkward thing she had ever done.  She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a breath.  It wasn’t going to change unless she did something to change it.  “I’m glad you had a meeting this morning so we missed out on the Penguin.  I mean sorry about the meeting, but I think it worked out for the best.”

She fought the urge to openly examine the people around the table.  They had all frozen at her mention of the Penguin, but all seemed to be trying to pretend like they hadn’t.  Their smiles became forced.  She wasn’t sure if it brought back bad memories or scared them how close M. Wayne had been to getting taken by the Penguin.  If they had stuck to their original plan, he could have been able to take him.

Bruce chuckled politely, tightly.  “Definitely a better result.  I would still like to go to the art museum with you though.”

“Do you have room for someone else?” Dick asked perking up.  “I’d like to get in on that.  Cass?” He looked over to Cass to see how she felt.  When she nodded excitedly he looked over to Damian.  “Damian would love to go to, right Damian?”  Damian leaned back in his chair and focused on the food, refusing to look at Dick.  “Damian’s in,” Dick enthused.

Tim snorted but realized his mistake as soon as the sound came out.  He looked warily over at Dick who was giving him an overly wide smile.  Tim turned to Marinette with an artificial smile.  “I’d love to.”  Duke shaking his head caught his eyes and he grinned maliciously. “Duke loves the art museum.  We can’t go without him too.”

Duke froze and narrowed his eyes at Tim for a fraction of a second before smiling at Marinette.  “If you don’t mind the company.”

Marinette looked between them.  The only one who seemed to actually be happy about it was Dick. Everyone else seemed like this was the last possible thing they’d ever want to do.  She plastered on a smile, unwilling to be the cause of discord in the family.  “No. Yeah.  That sounds… fun.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at her.  “You’re being insincere,” he accused harshly.

“Damian!” Bruce scolded loudly.  “That was uncalled for.”

Dick looked at him with disappointment. “Damian.  It is not okay to treat a guest… your sister like that,” he added after Bruce finished.

Jason was tense, preparing to step in if Damian said even one more word to Marinette.  He knew she already didn’t feel welcome in Bruce’s life, let alone his home.  He sure as Hell wasn’t going to let Damian solidify that belief.

Marinette stared at Damian wide eyed.  He wasn’t wrong, but she thought everyone kind of understood the reasoning behind it.  It wasn’t ideal, but it was expected.  Not to mention she wasn’t the only one.  She looked around the room and finding varying levels of disappointment, concern for her, and annoyance with Damian.  She looked over at Damian trying to gauge his goal.  

Roy and Jason had warned her that he would try to intimidate her, likely attack her.  And she guessed she should have expected to defend herself.  But again, he wasn’t wrong.  What he was accusing her of; not being entirely honest, she wasn’t.  None of them were.  But when she looked in his eyes, it wasn’t hostility she saw, not completely.  It was confusion, uncertainty, unease, and yes, a fair amount of hostility.  And wasn’t that the issue she was having with them too?  That they didn’t seem to be sincere with her?  But while she curled in, he lashed out.

“You’re not wrong,” she admitted quietly.  The room fell silent again and Damian looked up at her with a confused scowl.  She met Damian’s gaze and gave him a small smile.  “We’re all being varying levels of insincere.  This is an awkward, uncomfortable, scary situation.  For all of us, I imagine.  Again varying levels of that.  Maybe for you and me more than the rest.  You’re the baby and I’m…”  She let it trail off leaving ‘unwanted’ unsaid, hoping they would fill in the sentence with a more palatable adjective.  One she wouldn’t have to discuss with concerned looks and sympathetic smiles.

“You guys don’t want to offend me and I’m trying desperately not to offend you, but we don’t know each other well enough to know how to do that or what we need to do to ease the tension.  We’re trying to figure each other out, so nobody gets hurt. You or me.”  She knew she was rambling but it was honest, coherent rambling at least.  Maybe not completely, but it was the truth.  And Damian was right.  They weren’t being themselves and they weren’t going to get to know each other until they were.  

“I don’t want to expose too much and scare you away or give you the ammunition to really hurt me, if that’s what you’re going to do.  And I imagine you guys are afraid of driving me away by saying the wrong thing.  And how do you know what the wrong thing is until you know someone?  So we’re all on edge.  Not ourselves.  We don’t feel safe to be ourselves yet.  And how can you be sincere when you’re not yourself?”

Cass smiled warmly at her and nodded in agreement. Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.  “Except me. She’s herself around me, so suck it.” He stuck his tongue out at the rest of the family, like the mature, tough, dangerous, vigilante he was.

“Oh my God, Jason.”  Marinette shook her head and dropped it in her hands.  “That’s because I was drunk off my ass and didn’t have the ability to pretend when we met.”

“That’s French for ‘because you’re the best’,” Jason assured them with a completely straight face.

“It definitely isn’t,” Dick rolled his eyes, but his lips were turned up in a smile.  “If you want to talk about him behind his back in front of his face in French, let me know,” Dick winked at her.  “I haven’t gotten to practice my French in a while.”

“It sounds like Jason took advantage of you in a weakened state.  Terrible brother behavior,” Tim insisted.  He shook his head in mock disappointment.  “You deserve better.”

“Who?  You?” Jason squawked, affronted at the suggestion.

“I was going to say Duke, but if I’m the first one that comes to mind when you think of best brother, I mean, I’m not going to argue,” Tim shrugged with a smirk.

“You say Jason is always wrong and you’re always right, so…” Duke added with a grin.  He turned to Marinette.  “Sounds like you and me are going to form an alliance.  New Kids Club.”  He turned his head slightly when Cass made a noise.  “And Cass.”  He smiled when Marinette giggled.

“Let’s not form alliances and cliques or hog Marinette, please?” Bruce asked, the resignation clear in his voice but affection clear in his eyes.

Marinette nodded and turned serious. “Absolutely.  I will not form any kind of pact with Duke and Cass over lunch next week?”  She looked between the two of them for confirmation. Duke and Cass nodded back at her and Marinette grinned.  “Monday?”

“Hey!” Dick objected.

Jason gasped at her and dropped his arm from around her shoulder.  “This feels like a betrayal.  I’m betrayed.”  He shook his head and took a bite of food.  “You’ll fit right in.”

Duke shook his head.  “Can’t Monday.  I have a poetry thing.”

Marinette’s eyes brightened.  “Are you presenting or watching?”

Duke looked down shyly and rubbed the back of his neck.  He hadn’t even told the rest of the family about it.  It didn’t occur to him that they would be interested.  “Presenting actually.”

“Would you mind if I came too?  Or do you not like people you know being there?”

Duke shrugged.  “No, I don’t mind, but…” he cringed slightly, “it isn’t in the best part of town.  It’s kind of dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, I can protect you,” Marinette winked at him.  She ignored Damian’s scoff and Bruce’s choke.

Jason rolled his eyes.  “Don’t worry, I’ll go too.  I’ve never heard the kid read.”

“I’d like to come too,” Dick looked at them hopefully, “if you don’t mind.”

Duke made a noise that sounded like some combination of happy and resigned and nodded.  “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

“You okay with Adrien and Max coming too?” Marinette asked.

“Yeah, bring them.  It’ll be nice to meet them.”  He waved off her concern.  “Okay, that’s fun and all but we still need to decide when to not meet for the New Kids Club.  And I’m not putting that in my nonexistent calendar for,” Duke looked up questioningly, “Thursday lunch?”

Marinette looked over to Cass who nodded excitedly at her.  Marinette smiled back at her and Duke.  “Sounds good.”  She pulled out her phone and handed it to him.  “Want to put your number in so we can coordinate?”

“Absolutely!”  He took her unlocked phone and put his number in.

“Can I put my number in too?” Tim asked

“And me!” Dick exclaimed.  

“Yeah, of course,” Marinette smiled at both of them. A real smile.  Thank God Adrien was right.  She kind of liked the kids… even though most weren’t kids and most of them were actually older than her.  

“Why don’t you put all our numbers in there, Tim,” Dick suggested.

“Tt,” Damian scoffed.  “There’s no reason she would need my number.”

Bruce gave him a disappointed look, but Marinette shrugged.  “Please, don’t put it in if he isn’t comfortable with it.”

Tim pursed his lips.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  What if she finds a cute animal?  How’s she supposed to send you the picture?”  Damian scowled but didn’t say more.  Tim finished and handed the phone back to Marinette.

Marinette took it back with a thank you and scrolled through her contacts.  “Huh… he didn’t put you in,” she assured Damian.

“What?”  Tim looked at her confused then looked at her phone again.  “Oh, it’s under Demon Spawn.”

Marinette gaped at him.  “It’s under what?”

“Dem…”

“Yeah, no,” she cut him off.  She pushed a few buttons and looked back at Damian.  “Not anymore.  It’s gone.  You can give me your number when and if you’re ready.”  Damian didn’t acknowledge her, but he did nod curtly at his plate and Marinette was taking that as a win.  

She tucked her phone away and looked around the room.  “Okay, so, Duke does poetry, I heard Damian does art, and I heard Dick likes to swing, what does everyone else like to do?” Marinette asked with a bright smile.

Jason and Tim burst out laughing.  “Your reputation proceeds you, Lover Boy,” Jason managed to get out between gasps.

Marinette frowned and looked between them in confusion. “Did I say something wrong?”

Dick smiled warmly at her.  He kept his eye contact with her as he threw a roll at Jason’s head.  “Ignore them. Their minds are in the gutter.  For clarification, I like gymnastics.  I was a trapeze artist in a Haley’s Circus when I was a kid.”

“Oh that sounds fun!” Marinette almost squealed in excitement.  “You must have loved flying through the air.  That was always the best feeling.”

“It was.  I loved it.  The freedom of soaring before gravity took over was amazing,” Dick nodded in agreement. His eyes took on a distant look as he talked about it and a smile curled on his lips.  “Did you do trapeze work in Paris?”  Marinette froze momentarily.  “You mentioned you liked the feeling.  Is that how you know it?” he prompted gently.

“Oh… um… no.”  She looked down at the napkin on her lap for a second, pretending to readjust it.  “I was friends with a few of our local heroes.  One of them, Ladybug swung around the city on a yoyo that worked kind of like a magic rope.  That feeling of swinging up and breaking gravity was always heart racing.  And the feeling of falling until the string caught.” She looked away with a smile. “Yeah, I understand what you’re talking about.”

“We have a trapeze in the manor.  Did you want to try it out sometime?” Dick asked excitedly.  

Marinette grinned.  “That sounds like fun.  I’d love to.”

“How about tomorrow?”

Marinette blinked.  The Waynes definitely moved fast.  There was no time to breathe.  Just moving from one thing directly into the next.  She needed time to think, time to process that they apparently didn’t require.  “I can’t. Sorry.”  Dick’s face fell immediately.  If she didn’t have a legitimate excuse, she’d feel guilty.  “I’ll be in New York tomorrow for business and I’m meeting with Lucius Friday.”

“Saturday then,” Dick offered.  Marinette smiled and nodded causing Dick to almost vibrate in his seat.  None of the other siblings ever wanted to go on the trapeze with him and he was beyond excited to connect with Marinette.

“Did they take you around often?” Bruce asked with forced calmness.  “The heroes,” he explained when she scrunched her face in confusion.  “You said they took you around often enough for you to know what it felt like… where Hawkmoth could see.”  Spending time with civilians in suit was dangerous, incredibly so, even more so doing it in full view of the public.  Something like that could have resulted in Marinette getting targeted.  It was irresponsible and negligent.  He should have never trusted the Parisian heroes or Diana that the heroes could handle Paris without him.

“No,” Marinette said as nonchalantly as she could manage, trying to pretend like she didn’t notice the tightness in his voice. “They rescued me a few times and once things were resolved they would sometimes take people who had gotten caught up in the attacks for short rides like that to bring up morality.  To make them feel better.  It wasn’t unusual or noteworthy, just a public service.”

Bruce relaxed minutely, but the tension in his frame was still clear.  Marinette watched him carefully, trying to gauge if she’d used the right words to calm him.  She could feel her body tensing at exponential rates the longer he was silent, the longer it took him to relax or smile.  Marinette looked down at her plate and pushed her food around with tight lips.

“I like unsolved mysteries,” Tim threw in.  Eyes around the table turned to him, most of them incredulous and tense that he would take the conversation there.  She heard a whispered “Dude,” from somewhere around the table.

Marinette let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding and started laughing.  The eyes that had been on Tim turned to her, making her laugh even harder at the awkwardness of it until another voice joined hers in laughter, followed by another, until most of the table was at least chuckling.  

“My best friend gets into that too,” Marinette nodded with a grateful smile.  She narrowed her eyes playfully at him.  “Do you end up in all night benders following the trail of a mystery down incalculable rabbit holes until you get crazed and someone has to come and force you to sleep too?”

Tim looked shocked and slowly looked around the room before returning his gaze to Marinette.  “No,” he said tentatively.

“Yes,” Cass, Dick, Jason, Duke, and Bruce all chorused at the same time.

“Oooohhh, remind me some time to talk about the Impossible Murder,” Marinette offered.  Her eyes lit up with excitement.  Unsolved mysteries and conspiracy theories she could do.  This was her comfort zone.  Not that she got into it, but years with Alya had taught her the rhythm of inquiry and questions.  She took comfort in that rhythm.  It was something familiar she could lean into.

“Yes!” Tim exclaimed, an inquisitive glint in his eyes.

“No,” Cass, Dick, Jason, Duke, and Bruce all chorused at the same time.

Marinette giggled and winked at Tim.  “We’ll talk later,” she stage whispered to him.  She grinned at the groans she heard around the table.  

Tim turned to Duke and stuck his tongue out at him. “Sounds like we get our own club, just for Marinette and me.  The Investigator’s Club.”

Jason scoffed and took a bite.  “Like I’d want to be part of a club with that name.”

Cass cleared her throat lightly, drawing some attention to her.  “And Cass,” Tim amended.  Cass nodded happily.

“How about you, Cass?”

“Ballet,” Cass answered with a smile.

“Oh, I wish I could do ballet.  Are you in a class or do you do it on your own?  Or are you a professional?”  Marinette asked trying to keep her voice from getting too excited or invested.  Bruce had mentioned she didn’t talk a lot and Marinette didn’t want to pressure her to talk if she didn’t want to, but she also didn’t want to make her feel like she was ignoring her.

“Fun.”

Marinette nodded.  “I bet it’s a nice way to relax.”

“Not as good as shooting guns though,” Jason grinned. “Or blowing things up.”

Bruce sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. “Jason…” he started, not even bothering to try to finish the sentence.

Marinette blinked a few times then nodded.  “Uh huh.  I like sewing,” she responded dryly.  Jason laughed and shook his head at her.  He took a bite of his food and looked back at her appraisingly, a happy glint in his eye.

“Right, B mentioned you’re a designer.  Just graduated right?” Dick prompted.

“Yes.  My final project was a few weeks ago.  Now I’m figuring out my next steps.”

“Is that related to your trip to New York?” Duke asked.

Marinette nodded and swallowed the bite she’d just taken. “I’m meeting a few friends and someone at Style Queen to talk about styling a shoot.  And Adrien has a job interview.”  She took a quick bite of her dinner before continuing.  “We’re also trying to get a feel for New York, see if that’s somewhere we would want to move.”

“Wow, Style Queen is really big!” Duke nodded. “That’s awesome!”

Marinette smiled at him.  “Getting on her good side is definitely good for your career. Luckily, I’ve been able to impress her over the years.”

“Along those lines,” Bruce cut in, “I’ve commissioned her to create clothes for us.  We were planning on her coming over to start on Tuesday, so I expect everyone to be here for it.”

Dick beamed at her but Damian grunted loud enough for everyone to hear.  He had absolutely no interest in wearing something purely because ‘his sister’ designed it.  He had a style and level of craft he required in the clothes he wore and he was not about to sit or stand around uncomfortably all day long purely out of some misplaced obligation.

He narrowed his eyes at Marinette.  It still didn’t make sense.  Why would she have come to Gotham if she was looking to break into fashion?  She had to have had an ulterior motive.  “So you just happened to consider Gotham as a place to reconsider?”

Marinette cocked her head to the side.  “No…” she scrunched her face in a bit of confusion. “I never even considered it. Gotham was a side trip.  I had no intention of staying past earlier this week. But things… changed,” she looked around sheepishly before looking back at him.  “I was considering New York or Metropolis in America.  Also Shanghai, I have family there; London, Adrien has family there; Milan, my… grandmother grew up there.”

“Is Adrien your boyfriend?” Tim asked.

“No.  My... brother,” her voice petered out as she called the word and she looked down guiltily.

“Will he be part of your business?” Bruce asked, pretending like he hadn’t registered her discomfort, hoping that if they moved past it, she would too.

“Yes. No. Maybe.” Marinette grimaced as she went through all the options.    She shrugged.  “Whatever he wants.  He wasn’t allowed to make choices growing up so now that his father,” she spit the word out with disgust, “is gone, I’m going to let him decide his next move. He wants to help, but he’s looking for a teaching job.  He’s thinking of doing both for a while.  I’m hoping I can convince him it’ll be okay for him to focus on him.  It isn’t ‘abandoning’ me if he does.

“But, that's what's taking so long.  I can work from almost anywhere.  I’d prefer to be near a big city, but really, it isn’t necessary. It’s harder to find a place he'd like to teach and we want to live.”

“If he isn't part of your business...” Dick started, trying to figure out her motivation.

“We come as a set,” she said definitively and took a bite, staring him down as if daring him to challenge her.  “He’s my emotional support grimalkin.”

“Will your future romantic partner, if you want one, be okay with that?” Damian demanded.

Marinette shrugged.  She could feel Jason tensing next to her at Damian’s tone, but she wasn’t too bothered by it.  “They will be or they won't be.”

“Those are the options, yes,” Damian deadpanned.

“Demon Spawn…” Jason hissed.

“I meant,” Marinette cut in before Jason could continue the fight he wanted to start, “they will be okay with it or they won't be my romantic partner.  Adrien and I have been through a lot.  We feel safest when the other is near, at least close enough to come running if there’s a problem.  If someone can’t understand that about me, then I don’t need them in my life.”

Bruce nodded and gave her an understanding smile. “We should invite him next time.”

Marinette nodded in agreement.  “He’d love that.  He’s dying to meet you all.”

Bruce took another bite before coming up with an idea.  “If he’s thinking of being part of your business anyway, why don’t you bring him with you when you do the commission?  We can have a family dinner afterword.”

“That’s a great idea.  I’ll check with him,” Marinette nodded.  “And apparently, as long as he doesn’t talk about pineapples with you guys,” she gave Jason a pointed look, “it should be fine.”

Tim groaned.  “No.  No! I’m not having this conversation again.” He glared at Dick.  “Pineapple is the most disgusting topping to put on a pizza.”

Dick gasped dramatically.  “You take that back!”

“It’s worse than sardines,” Tim hissed.  “It’s an abomination.  It’s an insult to pizzas.”

“How dare you!  Pineapple is amazing.  It adds a sweetness that perfectly contrasts the saltiness you get from other ingredients!” Dick defended.

Marinette blinked a few times as Dick continued to sing the praises of pineapple on pizza before she leaned over and whispered to Jason.  “You weren’t joking.”

“Nope,” he said popping the p.  “Told you it always finds a way to come up.”

“It came up because you mentioned it,” Marinette deadpanned.  “Literally you’re the reason it came up.”

He shook his head as if he didn’t hear her.  “It always finds a way.  It’s like sorcery.”

Chapter 13

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

[alternateafterthought]

Arcane - Part 10

Ø  Meaning: Secret, Mysterious, Understood only by few. MAGIC

Ø  Pairing: Panther Hybrid Min Yoongi x Reader

Ø  Summary: Some secrets are kept for the good of people. Some secrets are kept for abuse or power. Yoongi had been a victim of abuse and power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else use secrets for that purpose. So, when Y/N comes into his life with secrets, he doesn’t want to fall into that rabbit hole again. He doesn’t want to give all his trust to someone who will abuse their power over him. But maybe Y/N’s secrets are a good thing.

Ø  Genre: Hybrid!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Ø  Warnings: There is nothing too graphic but there is a small trigger at the end of this part. It will be a little more intense in the next part but this is a build up to what could happen in the next part.

Ø  Word Count: 1746

Ø  A/N: Hey guys… here is the next part of my Min Yoongi fic!! It’s been a while since I updated last... sorry for taking so long to constantly update, but thank you to everyone who is still keeping up and reading Arcane!! So, I really hope you guys love and support this fic like you did with GOLDEN TIME!! If you want to be added to a tag list, message me or leave a comment or ask!! I would love and appreciate your feedback!! Thank you so much

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It was a bad idea.

Oh boy, was it a bad idea.

Y/N had walked in at the opportune moment. A saving grace for Yoongi in that moment that she had intervened. In saying that, Yoongi had no clue how Y/N could have left him in that moment, how a moment like this could happen.

A moment like this when he thought he was somewhere safe.

He trusted Y/N. With every fiber of his being, Yoongi truly trusted Y/N but there was just some things that was too much. And for the first time since meeting Y/N, Yoongi couldn’t find it in himself to want to be anywhere near Y/N.

It started as a good day. Yoongi had woken up in time to see Y/N off to work. As she showered and dressed for work, Yoongi made her breakfast and packed her a lunch. Though Y/N didn’t realize he had packed her a lunch until it was lunch time and she was looking through her bags and saw the lunch box. The note he left with it was simple, very Yoongi.

Just eat it. It’s not a big deal.

Yoongi.

Y/N had sent him a quick “thank you” text before digging in and eating what was now one of her favourite dishes. She needed that, with everything she was going through in the pristine white walls, she needed something delicious. Even with an almost promising outlook on her situation, she knew she had Yoongi waiting for her, always so welcoming and… handsome.

It was also thankfully Friday, even though it was the 3rd Friday of the month, meaning she was confined to a single chair in a hospital. Y/N had finished for the day and went to meet her best friend, Chae Hye-Jin. The girls hugged and giggled and soon was walking, arm in arm, with good food back to Y/N’s house.

“So, this hybrid of yours… just how handsome is he?” Hye-Jin asked, pulling Y/N closer.

“Yoongi is…” Y/N thought about it, thinking about how his eyes looked dark at first but soon, with time and care, turned soft and bright. How his hands were always so steady, they were a safe place that Y/N could picture building a life with.

“Yoongi is what?” Hye-Jin smirked.

Y/N just shrugged; “Yoongi.”

“If I didn’t know any better, which we both know I do,” Hye-Jin laughed a little. “I’d say you liked this hybrid.”

“He makes me feel safe. Even you know I don’t have that very often.”

“Well if he’s handsome, you should get more then feeling safe from your hybrid.” The laugh from Hye-Jin seemed more disturbing, catching Y/N almost off guard. “Or let me appreciate how handsome he is.”

It was something normal, for people who weren’t exactly lucky when it came to the people they associated with. It was something normal to overlook questionable things they did, so they wouldn’t be as lonely as they try to convince themselves. And Y/N was lonely, after everything in her life, she was somewhat okay with more then questionable  things her friends did.

Even if she deserved better.

“It’s not like that.” Y/N weakly contributed before they were in front of her small house.

Looking towards her house, Y/N caught sight of her curtains moving in the living room, already knowing Yoongi would quickly act like he wasn’t looking. She already knew, as they walked up the couple of steps of her porch, that Yoongi would be sitting on the couch acting as if he had been there the whole time. He might be pretending to be asleep, or reading a book or “watching” tv, and yet they both knew the truth he was waiting for Y/N to come home.

“Why did we have to walk again today?” Hye-Jin laughed a little as Y/N unlocked the door to her home.

“I can’t drive after an appointment, remember?” Y/N laughed; opening the door wider to allow Hye-Jin and herself into the warm home. “And I wasn’t about to have my parents drive me. I’d rather walk.”

Hye-Jin knew all about the troubles Y/N had with her family. When they had first meet, Hye-Jin thought her parents were amazing, but after knowing Y/N for 3 years, her opinions had changed on that. And rightfully so, with how her parents treat her, as if she were the worst thing to walk into their daughters life. When in reality, Hye-Jin was their daughters one and only friend in this world.

“Yoongi?” Y/N called into the house, closing the door firmly. “I’m home.”

Y/N hung her bag and coat as the hybrid in question walked into sight from the kitchen. He smiled at Y/N before his sharp eyes took in the other person standing next to Y/N.

She was a little shorter than Y/N, and undeniably beautiful. Her long hair, her charming smile, and the fact that Yoongi could tell she was trying to make herself seem smaller, almost trying to make herself seem defenceless. There was something wrong with her though. Yoongi couldn’t exactly explain it, but there was something about her that had his predator side on high alert. There was undoubtably a threat to his home, a threat to Y/N, he just had to wait for the threat to truly awaken.

“Yoongi, this is my friend, Hye-Jin.” Y/N moved to stand next to him, taking his hand to move him closer towards her. “Hye-Jin, this is Yoongi.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Yoongi.” Hye-Jin offered Yoongi her hand to shake, her voice trying for light and airy which only caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand up.

But this was Y/N’s friend, he had to at least act polite; “Nice to meet you.”

Yoongi shook her hand for all of a second, then moving his hand away, but she was quick to tighten her hold on his hand. Yoongi’s eyes widen for a moment before trying a little hard to get his hand back. Instead the woman stepped forward, into Yoongi’s space with a dark smile.

“You really are a handsome little guy, aren’t you?” Hye-Jin used her other hand to move up to squeeze his bicep.

Y/N could feel just how uncomfortable Yoongi was, opting to move herself between Yoongi and Hye-Jin. With a smile, and Yoongi behind her, Y/N looked back to Hye-Jin, whose eyes were still on Yoongi.

“Come on, you guys can get to know each other while we eat.” Y/N finally got her attention, moving them both towards the kitchen.

Yoongi took the food from Y/N’s hands, moving ahead of Hye-Jin and Y/N as the two girls lingered for a moment to talk.

“He really is cute.” Hye-Jin squealed. “You totally picked the right one. Imagine the babies he’d father.”

Y/N noticed how Yoongi’s tail wrapped around his own waist, his ears flickering; “If he ends up mating with someone and having children, I’m sure we’ll be there to see.”

“I’m talking about the babies he’d have with me.” Hye-Jin seemed to stage-whisper, like she was making sure Yoongi heard. “Hybrids can’t control themselves through heat. Just call me and I’ll totally help.”

Y/N couldn’t really believe what it was she was hearing. Instead she just simply laughed and moved to her seat sitting down next to where Yoongi would sit. Smiling up at Yoongi, he sat down next to her, squeezing her hand quickly before starting to serve her food.

Yoongi could only hope that this meal would be over quickly, that he could leave the tension. That he could run away from the strained situation, hopefully being able to protect Y/N as he did.

After the first hour, Yoongi thought it was time for Hye-Jin to leave, or for him to escape to his room. Then another hour passed, and another and another and it was now 2am and both girls sat in the living room gossiping about anything and everything they could think of. Yoongi couldn’t leave without feeling uneasy so he stayed and kept an eye on Y/N, catching Hye-Jin inching closer towards him.

At first Yoongi thought that maybe Y/N could see what her friend was doing, could see that she wasn’t someone to trust. But every time he went to move towards Y/N, that he thought Y/N was going to move towards him, she wouldn’t. Or he’d see her move away from her, almost like she was offering him up to Hye-Jin who was moving towards him.

He almost would feel completely betrayed by Y/N, at least if maybe she was doing it on purpose. But even Yoongi could see that Y/N was drunk, even if her friend was only pretending to be.

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed, Y/N.” Hye-Jin practically sang, eyes on Y/N but her smile was obviously for Yoongi. “You look really tired.”

“Nah, I still have to make my bed for you.” Y/N stood, stretching her limbs. “You can stay in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You can’t sleep on the couch.” Yoongi’s voice caught Y/N’s. “You can have my bed for the night. I’ll stay on the couch.”

“Yoongi?” Y/N tried to protest.

“I’ll quickly go change. I’ll make sure everything is clean.” Yoongi stood, hands on Y/N’s waist as he moved past Y/N.

“Okay, I’ll get you something to wear to bed.” Y/N helped Hye-Jin to stand, both of them walking to Y/N’s room, she was quick to get her the normal sleep clothing she wore when she stayed. “You know where the bathroom is.”

Hye-Jin took the clothes with a smile before leaving for the bathroom as Y/N got into her own pyjamas. The comfy pink silk on her body making it easier to breath before she quickly went threw her night routine. Finally moving to the bathroom to brush her teeth, she noticed that neither Yoongi nor Hye-Jin was anywhere to be seen.

Concerned, Y/N held onto her toothbrush as she walked down the hall to Yoongi’s room. The door was opened slightly, and Y/N could only see so much. But what she did see was by far anyone’s worst nightmares.

No man nor woman should ever be put in that position.

“What the fuck?” Y/N’s voice ran through the room, causing both Yoongi and Hye-Jin to look at her.

Even though both stared at her, both gave a different reaction. One was annoyed that Y/N had walked in on them. The other was terrified. Pleading for help.

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[missmonsters2]

Fire by Feather

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFC

Prompt: “Blindfolds heighten your senses, maybe that’s why you’re whimpering louder than usual.”

Note: I don’t know what to say...except don’t read this in public (not that you have a choice since we’re all in quarantine and social distancing).

Warnings: This chapter is a smutty 18+ only. Please read responsibly.

Translations: милый/milyj - Darling

Genre: smut

Count: 3076

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You're feeling a little playful tonight.

Maybe it's the shot of tequila and three glasses of wine you've had. 

Whatever it is, it's got you eyeing your target like a deer teasing a lion.

It's Stark Industries' 80th annual Gala party. Everyone's in quite a festive mood. Tony's using this chance to show off his new inventions while Pepper is securing more investors. 

It helps that the Avengers are here. Investors love talking to superheroes, the exclusivity it has.

Playing nice is only a favor to Pepper. 

That's how you got stuck to Boring Bradley. He was prattling on about his company and how his investment in Stark Industries would be phenomenal. 

You smile and laugh on the right cue, but your eyes have subtly traveled past him to a certain witch. 

You could see she was caught in a big group of Boring Bradley's. 

Wanda looked absolutely delicious tonight. Showing off her collarbone in her red dress that hugged her body tightly before trailing down her legs, a slit at the thighs.

She had one arm wrapped around her midsection and the other holding a glass of champagne. The rings that adorned her fingers always managed to get you riled up. 

You leaned back against the bar counter with your elbow, your investor leaning in with a sly smirk of his own, unaware you weren't even paying attention to him. 

"Hm," you hum as he continued to speak. 

Wanda looks over to you, a hot electric tension in the air as your eyes connect. 

'Don't,' she warns, sending the message to your mind, but you merely smile back. 

It was just sex, you told yourself. The two of you have been sleeping together for months now. There was no confession of feelings.

But sometimes, Wanda would look at you with such a burning fire in her eyes that you nearly surrendered yourself to her. 

Wanda was trying to concentrate on the conversation in front of her. She wishes Natasha was standing here with her, the spy being much better at situations like this than her, but Natasha is busy with her own group.

It's been hard to concentrate when she can feel you eyeing her like a piece of candy across the room at the bar. 

Wanda sent you a warning, but you didn't look like you were in a mood to listen to her tonight. 

"What do you think?" 

The question draws Wanda's attention back to the conversation at hand, and she smiles at the man in front of her.

"Oh, I'm sure Pepper and Tony have wonderful things planned for this year. Each year, they always manage to outdo themselves. I'm sure you can tell by their financials each year," Wanda answers diplomatically. 

Wanda honestly had zero interest in such politics and finances, and she was iffy with Tony at best, but she liked Pepper. 

Her answer sets off a chain of responses from the men she's standing with.

Wanda tries to focus on what they're saying when suddenly she's bombarded with vivid images in her head.

At first, it's just flashes, hints of what's to come. Wanda sees bare skin, the arching of a back she's very familiar with. She hears moans and gasps, the sound she could never forget who it belongs to. 

Then the intense images come with no mercy. 

Wanda sees you in her bed, hands bound above your head with a blindfold on. You still have your clothes on from the Gala, but you're disarrayed. Hair splayed messily underneath you, and you're breathing heavily like you're out of breath.

Wanda has to bite her tongue to stop the groan that wants to come out. She sharply looks over to you, but she finds you talking to a gentleman like nothing is out of the ordinary. 

Like you're not projecting naughty images to Wanda. 

And you're acting so well, Wanda nearly questions if she just conjured the images up on her own.

But then she's assaulted with another vision of her fucking taking you roughly while you're on your stomach, your bound hands gripping the bed sheets tightly as you moan unabashedly. You're writhing underneath her, trembling from the pleasure she brings you. 

She sees herself running her palm against your bare back as it travels up until she grabs a fistful of hair and pulls back roughly, just the way you like it.

She bites the shell of your ear, thrusting into you ruggedly. Licking where she just bit, she gruffs in your ear.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" She hears herself tease you. The wet sound of Wanda slamming against you echoes in the room, and it's a sound that Wanda absolutely loves.

Wanda nearly wants to stumble at the images.

But she has to steel herself because she's still in public, talking to potential investors for Pepper.

'Behave,' she warns you as she glares in your direction. 

For a moment, she watches your eyes travel to her as she licks her lips with a smile.

'I am behaving,' you mentally reply to her, 'can't you tell in the visions?'

It's teasing.

It's naughty. 

You're mocking her, Wanda's convinced. 

'What's wrong, baby? Can't focus? You should be able to do better as an Avenger.'

Wanda grits her teeth. She doesn't say anything but turns back to her conversation as if nothing is happening. 

You're really pushing her limits, you know that. Oh, you certainly know you're pushing her buttons. 

You were really going to get it later, at least that's what you hoped. 

It continues on like that for the rest of the night. Even as you travel from investor to investor for conversation. 

At some point, you even stand next to Wanda and Natasha to talk to businessmen, but that doesn't stop you from filling Wanda's head with visions of her railing you. 

It's never the same.

Sometimes it's in the closet where you have to be quiet as she takes you. 

Sometimes it's right in the middle of this party.

Sometimes you revisit past sexcapades you've had with her.

Even when Wanda pinched you subtly as you stood next to her, that didn't stop you. 

But after two hours of nonstop images, you finally gave her mercy and stopped. 

You could see Wanda breathe a sigh of relief, and you gave her a playful smirk when she looked at you. Wanda merely shook her head but went back to her conversation.

The rest of the night went without a hitch. It came to an end, and eventually, the room was clearing out.

You let out a long sigh as you were the first Avenger to leave. You headed to the elevator and pressed the button, and waited patiently for the door to open.

As soon the door opened, you took a step in.

"FRIDAY, to my room, please," you spoke quietly.

"Of course," FRIDAY replied, the doors slowly closing.

But just before the door fully closed, the hand stuck in, and the door reopened.

You saw Wanda on the other side. She gracefully stepped in, and the elevator doors closed again.

"Would you like me to drop you off at your room, Miss Maximoff?" FRIDAY asked. 

"No, that's fine, FRIDAY," Wanda replied, her tone even and you swallowed.

The ride up was silent. Wanda didn't speak a word to you. She merely looked straight ahead, and you were unsure what was going through her mind.

But the elevator door opened to the floor where your room was, and Wanda gestured for you to exit first.

"Thank you, FRIDAY," Wanda bid quietly as she followed along after you. 

"No problem," FRIDAY closed the elevator doors, and you were left in the quiet with Wanda again.

The walk to your room was quick. You entered the passcode to your room, and as soon as it flashed green and the door opened, Wanda pushed you through the doors.

She shut the door with a resounding lock of the door as Wanda leaned against the door, eyeing you.

"You didn't think you were going to get away scot-free, did you?" Wanda cocked her brow at you, and you bit your bottom lip.

"Just a harmless prank," you played dumb. 

Wanda stood straight and stalked her way to you. 

"Perhaps it would've been for the first ten minutes, but two hours? I don't think so." Wanda grabbed your hand and pulled you to your bedroom. 

She sits you on the edge of the bed before she turns and opens one of your drawers, pulling out one of your silk ties. 

"You quite tested my limited tonight, милый." Wanda ties the silk tie around your eyes as a blindfold. 

"On your back," Wanda commands and you lick your lips as you do as your told.

You moved more onto the bed before you lie down. You feel your hands being lifted above your head as they're bound together by Wanda's powers.

'Delicious,' Wanda thinks.

Just like how you made her picture. 

Wanda strips herself of her dress, eager to touch the prize in front of her. 

It starts slowly with her taking your shoes off. Her fingers touch your calves, trailing lightly up to your thighs. 

Wanda can hear you breathe deeply, and she smirks.

Maybe sending her the visions had worked you up too.

She lifts your leg so that it's over her shoulder. 

Lips brush against your thigh before kisses are pressed against your inner thigh. 

Your breath hitches. 

You can feel her smile. 

Her other hand is massaging your other thigh. 

And then suddenly, you're naked with the sound of your clothes being ripped off.

"I'm not going to lie, милый," Wanda murmurs, "I'm not going to go easy on you at all. I'm going to make this as slow as possible. Tease you until you can't take it anymore and beg me to finally fuck you."

Your eyes screw shut tighter underneath the blindfold. You feel a wave of wetness rush between your legs. 

There's a wave of relief initially when you feel Wanda covers your body with her own, pressing her naked body into yours. 

She embraces you, one arm under your back and the other cupping your jaw and neck.

Lips descend against yours. 

It's firm but slow as Wanda kisses you. 

She sighs in your mouth.

"Your kisses shouldn't be this good," she murmurs against your lips. You taste like red wine tonight, and Wanda thinks it's delicious. 

Wanda goes back for another kiss before she moves to kiss against your jaw, traveling down until she's at your neck.

You're so sensitive, and Wanda has hardly done anything yet. 

She's sucking and nipping at your neck. 

You're barely holding in the moans until Wanda begins to grind against you, her pelvis rubbing against your clit. 

It sets a low groan from your mouth.

Wanda kisses your throat, feeling the vibrations of your groan.

Wanda's feeling particularly selfish tonight. She really just wants to touch all of you, she almost doesn't know where to touch next. But she decides she'll just move her way down. 

Her lips drag down until she's at your chest. 

Taking a perk nipple in her mouth, her tongue rolls over the stiff nub, enjoying the way your back arches more into her mouth. Her hand stays splayed against your back while her other hand grips your ass and squeezes. 

Wanda nips at your nipple lightly before she releases the nub. She blows cool air against it, smirking as your breath hitches sharply.

She does the same to the other nip, alternating until your chest is overstimulated, and your hips are thrusting upwards for more relief. 

Wanda's lips continue to her mission, trailing downwards, leaving hot open mouthed kisses.

When she reaches her destination, Wanda licks her lips with a small smile. 

She can feel the heat radiating from your sex. Wanda rubs her finger through the slit, pressing against your clit as she does so.

"You're soaking, милый, you must want it pretty bad," Wanda murmurs, you can feel her breath on you.

You flush, because you also do when Wanda points out how desperately clear it is you're wet for her. 

It comes without warning when Wanda puts her mouth on you.

Your hips buck up as you make a sound from your throat. 

Wanda holds your hips down as she eats you with reckless abandon. 

Her tongue flattens against you as she licks you, flicking at your clit. 

She repeats the action over and over and over, her tongue curling against you. 

You can't stop the moans, the whimpers, the whining.

"Fuck," you breathe. It's high-pitched, and it makes Wanda moan against you.

The way you swore during sex always turned Wanda on. She liked the idea of her bringing you so much pleasure that you couldn't control the swears that came out of your mouth.

You're close.

Wanda can feel it in your movements. You're working up a sweat, your hips are twitching. 

But Wanda makes due on her promises, and just before you can fall over the edge,

Wanda stop.

You let out the most disappointed groan.

"Wanda," you plead.

"Begging already?" Wanda teases as she gets up. "Come on, you should be able to do better as an Avenger."

The mocking words come back to bite you.

Wanda looks around the room, spotting her desired toy. 

She grabs it with a tissue, cleaning the tip of it off of ink.

Wanda liked that you practiced calligraphy with such an old-fashioned feather.

But tonight, it would be your undoing. 

She climbs back over you, straddling you. 

Your chest is heaving, and she watches with a fascination for a moment.

The movements have halted, and you're not really sure what to expect. You feel a tickling sensation across your breast, but you're not sure if it's Wanda's finger or something else. 

But then you feel it again, the sensation traveling down your midsection to your navel.

You know what it is immediately and moan. It's just a feather, but you're on the edge, feeling overstimulated, and ready to come.

Everywhere the feather drags, it feels like a fire trail across your skin. Heat pools at your center, making you wetter.

"Wanda," you whimper, "What are you doing?"

"Making good on my promise," Wanda throatily chuckles. 

"I can't," You tremble. Your hips roll upwards, searching for friction but finding nothing but the feathery touches that burn your skin.

The sensation tingles around your breast, first your left, and then right. And when it moves away, you feel something hot and wet take your nipple in. 

You immediately register it as Wanda's mouth. The feather stick tickles around your other breast, and when Wanda tugs at your nipple, the teeth scraping your flesh delicately, your hips lift off the bed.

"Wanda!" You keen.

You've never felt this sensitive before. You need to rip the blindfolds open to see what Wanda doing.

But Wanda doesn't answer your calls. She merely sits up, the feather traveling down again to between your legs. Wanda drags them against your thighs, and you're trembling.

You feel her blunt short nails drag where the feather as touched.

The feather circles your clit, and you whimper more.

"I'm wondering if you've learned your lesson," Wanda hums.

"I have!" You plead, and Wanda chuckles.

"You know, blindfolds heighten your senses, maybe that's why you're whimpering louder than usual," Wanda drawls as she shifts, her mouth over your sex again.

You don't have an answer to that except another whimper.

She puts her mouth on your clit, working you up again, but you pray to God that there's a relief this time. 

"Please," you beg. You're not sure how much more you can take of the feather anymore as it tickles over your hip.

Everywhere it touches feels like an electric livewire over your skin.

"I love when you beg," Wanda husks against your clit, the words sending vibrations through you. 

"I need you," you hopeless plead, thrusting your hip closer to Wanda's mouth, hoping it'll lead you to your sweet end. 

"How badly?" Wanda smiles.

"I'm so close," you breathlessly confess. Wanda moves up, smashing her lips yours, her tongue slipping to your mouth, and you know she's promising good things to come. 

Wanda nudges your legs to spread wide open. Grabbing your hips, she drags you closer to her. 

Her lips leave you, but when you feel her align herself, pressing herself to you before she grinds herself roughly down your sex, you arch with a loud squeak. 

The feel of Wanda's wet heat against your down sends you down a delirious path. 

"I'm going to come," you tell her, your hands thrashing against their binds. The way Wanda had teased you, played your body like a violin, and left you on the edge had already brought you close to your end.

It only takes a one, two, three clumsy thrusts of Wanda's hardened clit against your own nub for you to see stars behind your eyes.

You scream her name as you arch your back closer to her, Wanda still thrusting against you as she chases her own end. 

When the high slowly comes down, Wanda falls against you, pressing a sloppy kiss against your lips. 

She takes the blindfold off you and unbinds your hands, and they fall down to your side, but your entire body feels too much like jelly to do anything else. 

She places the feather at the edge of the bed as you try to catch your breath.

The two of you have worked up a sweat as it glistens on your bodies. 

You feel Wanda rubbing her hands on your body before they travel between your legs, pressing and rubbing against your clit.

You let out a sharp yelp as you're too sensitive right now, and she's overstimulating you.

But the way she's doing it, you can tell she's warning you.

"Misbehave with me like that in public again, and I'll make sure your punishment is much longer next time."

Wanda bites your shoulder before pressing a kiss, and you smile.

You force your arms to wrap around her. Wanda said next time, so she most definitely knows you'll misbehave again. 

Wanda falls asleep pretty quickly, and you're not far behind.

But you had caught the burning look in her eyes again briefly before she fell asleep. 

And you think at this point, it might just be more than sex.

[mystilotls]

Tokyo Soul AU: Chapter one

Song: Cabinet Man

Tw: Implied gore, implied death, violence, shipping

This is for the peeps who don’t watch TS, these chapters are for the plot of this au.

also PLEASEEEEEEE send me asks ( @ask-mystis-aus ) im opening an “ask the characters event with drawn reactions so-

Enjoy, (no grammar check, we fail like men)

Long ago in a dimension where time doesn’t exist, where every up is a down, Where space is irrelevant, and when Cthulhu ruled with his army of demons, inflicting terror and darkness to all.

However, there was one soldier in the army that seemed more powerful than the rest.

This demon went by many names but to mere mortals, he was referred to as Necro. 

Necro could manipulate all, even the dead, Necro could summon anyone or anything at will, Necro possesses all knowledge of any dimension he sets foot in, and most importantly, it is dangerous to make a deal with him. For if you shake his hand, the consequences could be dire.

Demons found Necro’s powers to be too catastrophic and after a long war between them, Necro, and Cthulhu, the demons of the realms were victorious.  

Cthulhu was banished to R’lyeh where he built up the once fallen empire he had.

As for Necro?

Necro was trapped in a spellbook, and to add insult to injury, his prison was labeled as the “Necronomicon”. The Necronomicon was banished to a far void, where it was rare for anyone to even find it.

 Even when the Necronomicon was found, He is forced to share his wisdom of the dimensions he has traveled to and or harmed. He watches as wars break and mass genocide all from trying to obtain him.

 He loves watching but he vows, one day, someone will free him and he will return. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s the book we need!” a voice had exclaimed, it seemed to have belonged to a young man with an accent that is different from his colleagues 

Necro had gotten up from the corner he normally sat in, at first spending unbearable moments with nothing but dribbling fools constantly grabbing your cell and splattering blood of their former friends on you can get irritating, but since there was nobody to bother him, he often learned to meditate and ignore his surroundings.

Until now. 

However, these mortals seem like a change of pace for once. Necro crawled over to where the seeing eye is and looks out to see a bag of flesh grabbing his cover, he tries to remember what lifeform this was and had come to the conclusion that these were creatures from the Earth dimension. Necro never was able to take over this world but he heard stories that the smartest creatures...humans were just as if not more as primitive than the other idiots he had slaughtered like the sacks of meat they are.

These humans seemed like no exception.

Necro looked back and thought this was too easy, none of these fools know what the Necronomicon truly is.  All the easy to watch as they destroy themselves. Just a simple compliment or a simple suggestion and he already knows there is going to be delicious anarchy everywhere. 

Necro watched as he was being held by the obvious animal hybrid of a human and a long-eared rat humans call rabbits.  Necro could easily tell behind the dirty rabbit beanie this mortal calls a disguise.  

“It called the Necronomicon” “good eye, genius” Necro mumbled hearing the echo of the freak holding his book and wonders Since he looks like a freak in his dimension, would he be an easy pawn and not clash with his army.  He eventually got his attention drawn to the young man from before. 

“Oh no, no! No, I’m out” Necro watches from the seeing eye and grins wickedly. This human is smart enough to know his left from his right yet dumb enough to fall for all types of manipulation

He is perfect.

~ Necro groaned listening to them babble on about nothing that interests him. He then chuckled when his “friends” started to insult him. This is just too easy. He had been talking to the rabbit hybrid but his insults were to no avail. Meanwhile the blond, the rabbit had broken him so much that a simple insult or a compliment could make him all his. 

“As ugly as a wart too,” Necro said, loud enough for all of them to hear and he got the blond’s attention. Great, now to add gas to this unstable fire.  

He tries to hide his grin as the rabbit hands over the Necronomicon to the blond. This pawn seemed easier to control since the rabbit is too broken and too wrapped up in his own fantasies, it would just be a waste of time. 

  Necro was grabbed out of his thoughts when he was spat on by the blond. 

“Well that was a bit unnecessary” Necro mumbled

~

 “This is too boring and such a waste of time to try and get out of this damn book,” Necro thought as he just laid in the void. If only he had his actual body, then he could just watch as Cthulhu’s armies could mow down all these useless souls. Watching as they beg for mercy but then vaporate mid-sentence, at least then it would be a little fun. 

He got up and floated around in a sitting position. He thought it was time to try something different

“Take out the nurse. End him” Necro whispered in the blond’s ear. He saw the rabbit’s ears perk up and walk to the other young male.

“The Necronomicon wants us to kill Dr. Nurse, dude!” 

“And you want to listen to a TALKING BOOk” 

Necro sucked air through his teeth, he may not listen to him now but he soon will. He looked through the seeing eye and saw 

Cthulhu, in the body of some sort of walking creature that apparently lives in their water, all he knows is that this animal shouldn’t be walking on land.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grian held the Necronomicon during his date with Silly. It was more of a peer pressure date (he liked Silly in a sisterly way) but he was confused. He thought he was with Taurtis.

 Taurtis comes to his bed every night for cuddles and Tuesdays are a day when they can be all alone, but was Taurtis just using him to relieve tension, just his constant play toy for him to use while he goes dating other girls? 

Taurtis keeps claiming that he is just taking the girl out for a date so she can help him “get his hair back” but the half-shaved head works for Taurtis. However, he is growing his hair back and that’s all that matters.  

Suddenly, this cursed book ripped him away from his thoughts. The Necronomicon had been whispering to Sam yet Grian was the one to have to listen. While Sam went to go get Jorje from Mr. Chupa, Grian looked and saw many shadows of arms grab for Grian’s. They wrapped around him before reaching for his face, cupping his cheek before grabbing for his throat.  His eyes went white as he gasped for air.

Grian screamed before tripping and falling to the floor, panting heavily. Silly had rushed to help him up. He looked at his hands to see the shadows gone and all of the students and Mr. Chupa stare at him in confusion. 

“Grian, are you oka-?” Silly’s gentle question of worry was interrupted when Grian got up and ran upstairs, Silly could see him with eyes of fear and worry. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grian ran into a bathroom stall before slamming the door. He threw the Necronomicon and opened it to see the undecipherable font which is on every page. He growled before ripping the pages right out of the book, ignoring all the pained grunts from the disembodied voice. Using the sound of torn paper to encourage him. 

“Why do you do this, why do you put up with what you do. Cthulhu told me you wanted to go home, that’s not what you really want. I may be a book but I can read you like an open one. You just want respect, You just want to be loved, You want to be wan-”

“SHUT UP!” Grian screamed as he threw the damaged book on the floor, huffing as he glared into the seeing eye which he couldn’t tell if it winked or blinked. 

“I’m not just a book you know” Grian gasped as he heard a whisper right in his ear, nobody was behind him but he could feel a weight on his shoulders as if someone was trying to be comforting. It sent shivers through him as he shook it off. 

“I can give you respect, I can make people listen to you, I can help you get all the power you deserve” Grian pushed against the door. His eyes wide as he tries to get his bearings straight. This isn’t the weirdest thing by a longshot but something about this made him uneasy. He looked down to the seeing eye and saw red. 

“All you need to do is-”

SMASH

Grian stomped on the eye of the book and kept stepping on the cover. He heard a chuckle and soon laughter 

“Well, thats all I need, Thanks for the invite~”

A dark mass appeared from the seeing eye before it rushed into Grian’s lungs. He fell and hit his head on the bathroom floor, passing out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taurtis was starting to be concerned about Grian, he just stopped talking for the rest of the day, he wouldn’t even look at them or let go of the Necronomicon. Taurtis waited for Grian to come out of the bathroom so they could cuddle, he sleeps better on a bed than a mat but he feels more comfortable with another human next to him

Meanwhile, Grian looked at his hands before looking in the mirror, seeing his reflection gaining red pupils and sharp, dagger teeth

“Ah, It feels great to have a body again” Grian chuckled before hearing the bathroom door knock.

[tarithenurse]

Not enough

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Content: dubcon, drugging (á la pollen), rough sex, angst, feels, pining, awkwardness, fluff, swearing. A/N: Is it possible to get enough Steve Rogers? Nope, but this is still just a one-shot and soooo not for minors.

Not enough

Recon missions are a drag. Most of the time it’s just a matter of verifying some intel Tony and Natasha have gathered with their magical hacking skills, or it’s a painful task of finding someone who’s left no digital fingerprint which generally means they know how to stay hidden both on and off camera.

This time it’s the latter.

Obviously, you want to catch the people behind the trade of fusion weapons on the black market…you’re just not sure that wading through the sewers beneath the industrial outskirts of Moscow was strictly necessary because the Kremlin’s bound to hold much more information than a chance meeting at some factory.

But then again…the pessimism in control of your thoughts might just be due to the stench of rot and other unpleasantries oozing from your boots.

You’re almost happy when Steve pulls up in front of the tiny house the Avengers has rented. Leaping out of the car, you barely pause to get the gross footwear off before dumping the rest of the contents of the bottle by the door over your feet. As you stalk through the house, the car door slams outside, signaling that the Captain is getting his ass in gear. At least I get to shower first.

It’s just the two of you, something you’d actually looked forward to in the hopes that you’d get to get closer to the man. Very little can distract Steve Rogers from his mission in life, but you refuse to believe there’s no more to him. The man’s smart, kind, and sure his background is messy to say the least but whose isn’t? So you took off to Russia with him and an extra mission of your own.

So far, you’ve failed horribly.

Steve’s seriousness has morphed into a sullen hostility and you have no clue why. At least there’s a mattress on the floor in the spare room which you’ve gladly accepted as your after the awkward flight, and though the house might be frigid, it’s nothing compared to the few scowls the man sends you when you dare get too close to you during morning or bedtime routines. Well fuck him. Apparently, heroes aren’t all they’re made up to be.

Grabbing the still damp towel and a set of clean clothes from you room, you scurry off for a much needed shower. It takes a moment for the boiler to catch the idea of hot water, but eventually the scalding water washes away the last stench and your irritation. In fact, you’ve managed to think yourself far away even as you begin to dry yourself, stepping out of the too-ugly-to-be-kitsch bathtub with a soft tune on your tongue. Dude, it feels great to rub the coarse towel over your scalp without a care about how much of a mess your hair will be – right now you just feel the tension dissipate under the fingertips and a draught bring in fresh air to chase away the humidity.

Wait.

There shouldn’t be any air coming in.

Instinctively, you let the towel fall as you reach for the gun tugged away under the stack of clean clothes. Jeans and whatnot are strewn as you continue the movement, bringing the weapon in front of you to point at the head of the intruder. The aim is true for a second – then you falter at the sight of who it is.

“Steve!? Goddamn it, man!”

There’s no reason to fight the Captain as he engulfs your gun and hand in his, calmly bringing it down and to the side where no one can get hurt.

“Steve?”

He doesn’t answer. The bright blue of his eyes is reduced to a sliver that roams along your body causing you to become hyper aware of your nakedness but reaching for the towel on the floor merely results in Steve grabbing that wrist too. It hurts a bit as he twists the grip, forcing you to let go of the gun which clatters into the sink.

“What’re you doin’?” This isn’t the Steve you know, not the kind guy with a heart of gold and who blushes at the mention of fondue. “You’re hurting me.”

The old Steve is there for a split second, surprised at your words or maybe his own actions, but it’s gone just as quickly. You don’t have time to prepare, registering all too late the shift that allows him to grab both of your wrists in one hand above your head as he pushes you against the nearest wall. The tiles are shockingly cold against your backside and you can’t help but arch to avoid it even if it means pressing yourself against the taught figure looming over you.

“Fucking perfect,” a guttural sound escapes Steve, “better than imagined.”

What? You’ve what now? But the questions racing through your head never make it off your tongue. Feverishly, greedily, Steve’s lips crash onto yours. It’s rough, and it’s dominant, and it’s exactly what you’ve wanted for as long as you’ve known the guy. Reduced to a whimpering mess, you reciprocate.

But your logic comes flooding back the moment you feel Steve’s hand upon your waist, pulling you roughly toward him as he forces a knee between your thighs until the only purchase available is by wrapping your legs around his hips. This is wrong. At least you manage to break the kiss, stumped at the growl it triggers before he’s got your jaw in a vice-like grip that forces your face back to his. This isn’t right. Pupils blown out of proportions; brows furrowed to darken his eyes more. He is so close your noses almost touch and you inhale his breath, laced with spicy liquor and something akin to medicine. Drugs?

“This isn’t you, Steve, there mu–“ His hand shifts to your throat, fingers and palm pressing hard enough to cut off your plea while still allowing you a minimum of breath.

The bottle. You hadn’t left the water by the door, and there’s no way the meticulous Captain America would have, so someone else must have been here. Inside too? If so, then they could have gotten their hands on anything, booby-trapped the place or even…even laced the food and drinks with poisons or some shit.

“Shut. Up.” No more than a whisper, the words still carry clearly in the small room. “For so long…been watching…wanting…” A nudge by his thigh sends your body sliding upwards over the condense-covered tiles. “You’ve longed for it too, don’t deny it.”

It’s true. Even now, not knowing exactly what to expect of the man, you can’t help but react to the rough physicality and want to feel his muscles under your hands. Heat radiating from your core is mixing with the cold of the wall to the point where you don’t know which is causing the goosebumps to spread like wildfire across your skin. Yes, I want you. It’s wrong. Wrong to want this, and wrong to want to make use of whatever shit is influencing Steve.

“Y’do-on’t reall’ mean ‘at,” you manage to choke out, surprised as he relents the pressure a bit for you to continue, “wha’ever’s influencin’ you…making you think –“

“I fucking mean it!” Gone is his patience. “Just didn’t…I couldn’t…fuck! Can’t wait ‘ny longer!”

Big and calloused, the hand he’s held your wrists with roams your body, cupping your breasts one by one to play roughly with your already pert nipples until you gasp against his hold at the sharp sting. His mouth is anywhere it can reach, teeth tugging at skin while his tongue seems to try to soothe what surely will become bruises, but you don’t mind, pulling at his t-shirt or tangling your fingers in hair to guide him on.

It’s impossible to help the craving soaring through you, making you rock against the sweatpants he at least has changed into. The soft material soaks up the first signs of dampness that isn’t from the shower, and you see his nostrils flare to take in the scent of your arousal like he’s some animal. He might as well be. Right now it doesn’t matter because a strong thumb has found your clit, pressing deliciously until a jolt and a twist of Steve’s hand has you riding his fingers so he can spread your wetness with rough, calculated movements.

“So needy for me,” he grunts into a kiss.

You are. What little friction is left now that your juices are spread all over your cunt and his hand isn’t enough to keep you satisfied even if it’s bringing you closer to bursting.

“Mo-ore!” You frantically palm his cock through the pants, hoping to bring your point across somehow. “Need…more…”

Any other day, you would love to wipe a smug smirk like that off a guy’s face. Not today. Neither do you protest when he detangles himself from between your legs, unceremoniously dumping you on your toes where you have to fight to keep upright unless you want to have your air supply cut completely. Panic ripples through you as you struggle, only partially aware that Steve’s tugging at the waistband of the sweats.

Lightheaded, heart pounding in your ears, your body changes tactics to conserve oxygen by going lax and allowing the Captain to bend you over the sink. Cold porcelain digs into your hips, holding you in place. The fogged mirror presses against your forehead. Need air!

As if answering the unspoken prayer, Steve lets go of your throat in favour of holding your hips steady and sheath himself in your cunt with one hard thrust, making you cry out in surprise and untamed lust. Again and again – without giving you a chance to adjust to the intrusion and size of him first. Each time he pulls out you manage to get a lungful of air which he then promptly pushes out of you by ramming so deep it can be felt in your stomach.

“Fuck-ing…tight…”

No shit. Every muscle in your body is overworking themselves. Back flexing. Hips and ass grinding against each thrust to ensure the slap of his sac against the clit, sending jolts through your womb into the spine from where the signals are rerouted to your legs. Ah! You feel the knees buckle, thankful for the support the sink gives and Steve’s bruising grip, and holy fuck you can’t hold back the loud moans covering parts of the mirror with fog until you can’t see the reflection of the scene.

“Wanna…wa-nna see…” you plead on a broken cry, “needa-a-aaah!”

Steve’s has angled you as you spoke, an arm under your left knee, his and your right hands scrambling for purchase on the sink. Not just does he still hit the g-spot, the new position sets your body in hyperdrive as it’s flushed by the change of sensation. The coil inside you is wound tighter than you’ve ever tried, waiting for the Captain’s command to release. Please. You’re so close.

“Touch yourself,” he grunts before dipping is face to your shoulder, planting his teeth in the skin and then trailing licks and love bites towards your breast bouncing just within reach, “do it.”

Not daring to relinquish the support you move slowly, your own fingers dancing against the root of his cock until –

“Fu-uck!”

There it is (covered in the silken wetness beneath soft curls), hard and flamingly sensitive to the shaky strokes of your fingers. The coil winds impossibly tighter for each stroke, each thrust, each suckling bite and soothing lick to your nipple.

And then you find yourself on the very edge, a hairbreadth away from tipping over into oblivion, pausing to meet Steve’s eyes. The black of his pupils has all but swallowed any hint of colour beneath the heavy lids. Face flushed. Lips puffy. Hot breath fanning your shoulder.

“Do it…” he smirks, “cum…for me.”

A few hard circles around the clit and then you topple over, body seizing and shuddering as euphoria explodes throughout your being, walls clenching Steve’s rigid cock at first and then suddenly nothing at all. The absence leaves you hollow. Despite the vague sense of strong arms carrying you, the whimpers still escape as you beg for your Captain to fill you up again.

The voice is still hoarse and deep when it whispers in your ear: “You want more, huh?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, just drops you on a bed and hauls your ankles onto his shoulders. You try to form some semblance of a sentence as you descend from the high, lungs dragging in air repeatedly with no more than needy moans to show for it. Moans that turn guttural as Steve’s shaft glides between the tender folds and over you sensitive clit. Groans pitching into little squeals each time fingers find and tweak your nipples or teeth latch on to your neck because it keeps you dancing on the border to ecstasy.

“Pl-please!”

This time he moves slowly, allowing you to feel each sinful stretch as your cunt is filled beyond the wildest dream.

“Look at me, [Y/N].”

How can I deny you? You need to blink to clear your vision, bringing a sight of wonders into view through the blur. Flushed with beads of sweat, Steve’s gaze is locked on you. Perfect teeth dig into his cushioned lower lip as he pulls back and it causes a new wave of lust to pool and the walls in your cunt to contract around him.

The slow pace is abandoned soon. You find purchase by holding on to Steve anywhere possible, often changing because the hands slip on the sweaty skin under which his muscles are rippling and flexing with every rut that drills you further up the mattress and his cock deeper into you.

His eyes never waver from yours.

Not as you reach a new high, writhing beneath him and his names falling from your lips on increasingly loud cries until…

“[Y/N]…fuck…love you!”

Your heart stutters together with Steve’s thrusts.

…

Captain America has fallen asleep quickly. Sated, just like you, he’d rolled off and on to his side, dragging you into his arms and burying the nose in your hair where he promptly began to snore.

Now you’re lying there with the streetlights sweeping onto the ceiling and a million thoughts milling in your head. Regrets? Not on your behalf. Confusion? Oh, yes! With your back pressed against Steve’s chest, it’s as though a certain peace is seeping in through the skin and you have to shake yourself free mentally before you find the willpower to begin turning in his arms. You’ve made it onto your back when the activity stirs Steve.

“Mmm…hey…”

The voice has nearly transitioned into a bass that curls around warm and gently to tug at your heart. For a moment he lingers in the calm. Then you see the brows furrow, concern flooding his features as memories return, cold and insisting like a winter’s wind.

The pain of realization is audible: “[Y/N]…”

“Whatever you drank from…we’ll send to it to analysis.” You can’t look at him - seeing his regret would hurt too much.

A strong hand cups your jaw ever so tenderly, softly turning your face towards Steve’s so you can’t avoid meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry if…if I hurt you or…did something you didn’t want to. I am.” The tip of a tongue is visible as it darts out to wet his lips, stirring the ghost of what else that tongue has done. “But I knew what I was saying and ev–“ Steve sighs, “[Y/N], I really have dreamed of being with you. And not just sex but more…if I’ve ruined that now then I compl–“

A kiss is all it takes to shut him up. A kiss that starts hard and clumsily, melting into something soft that could last forever.

[malethirsty]

Shifting Relationships: Sam Merlotte

Summary: It’s a rough love story, man meets boss, man falls into seemingly one sided relationship with boss, but what if all it took to bring out another side was a simple day like National Horny Day.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!)

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1205305932273446913?s=21 & The concept of National Horny Day

This service day would be chaotic to say the least, to say it would be naturally busy is a gross understatement. At Merlotte’s Bar and Grill in Bon Temps, Louisiana, when prompted for marketing ideas you had suggested the idea of capitalising on major days in pop culture & society in order to net more customers, and your boss Sam Merlotte had been rather impressed by this. It worked positively as more people did come in, willing to part with their cash for some good old Southern hospitality and cooking, unfortunately it meant you had to cover those pop culture days that seemed utterly ridiculous, so when something like National Horny Day popped up, you wanted the floor to swallow you whole. The people of Bon Temps were normal sorts of folk, but any chance anyone got drunk or rowdy, then the entire mood changed & you were worried a spill out onto the streets would result in bad press and you waiter position being taken away, and Hell Hath No Fury Like You if someone in Bon Temps took away your position in the bar.

“Can we get an area of the premises where people can fuck?” You asked Sam, a few weeks out from the day in question. As you predicted, Sam spluttered at your suggestion “W-What? No Y/N, we are running a restaurant, not a brothel!” He responded with a shocked tone, and you quickly doubled back to explain yourself “I mean people here in Bon Temps can get overly passionate once drunk and filled with enough horniness, I thought it would be better to contain it, rather than let our town be a national circus act.” You were blushing, it was quite awkward to tell all of this to your boss. Sam turned to you, a grin starting to form “You know what Y/N, that actually sounds like a good idea, the area can be free so we don't profit off it, and people can maintain whatever composure they have without creating a mass blow out.” “Really?” You wondered and Sam nodded his head “How are we going to work it then, cause buildings take a long time to put up, and it would have to be big so that it isn't one coupling per sesh, cause that would cause more harm than good and-” you hadn’t realised you’d been blabbering without breath before Sam took ahold of your hands and looked into your eyes, a reassuring shade of blue gazing into your frantic soul “Calm down Y/N, you get so worried about things sometimes, take a breath.” He breathed in slowly through his nose and out of his mouth, you repeated his action till you calmed down “Y/N, I will handle it, you don't have to worry your pretty head about any of it”

You blushed subtly, at least what you hoped was subtle. You had a crush on your boss for quite a long time, in fact it had happened once you caught sight of him when you went to drop your resume off at Merlotte’s, when you first glanced at him, you thought as if a denim wrapped angel had fallen from the sky and into your life, he wasn’t built like society’s muscular gruff man, but you didn’t care, you’d gladly take this denim wrapped stud over anyone else. You had a big smile on your face when Sam called you back for an interview, and kept up a positive attitude in his office, so much so it led to your position. You always had a spring in your step to do whatever he asked, your heart fluttering when he turned the corner and observed the bars goings on (You made extra sure that service was top tier when you were the one out on the floor). It had been that way for a long time, but you’d kept it all to yourself due to your nerves. Thankfully Sam did not pick up on it, and smiled at you "Now, you get the outside cinema ready for the adults, and I'll take care of matters inside", and with orders now given, you sprang into action before anything else could occur.

Sam was right, people had kept themselves composed at Breakfast where the bar was only open to those experiencing the morning after, you had served Jason Stackhouse and a number of women at one booth with a smile. Lunchtime was when adults gathered in the Outdoor Cinema you set up, where a mattinee of Last Tango In Paris was being shown. The intigue the audience had toward the movie was prominent, as you bustled around waiting the customers on the side tables nexts to their seats. With a massive lot of plates covering your arms, making you look like you were attempting a balancing act rather than waiting a table, Sam stepped up to help “Looks like you might need a hand.” He grinned at you “Yeah I do Mr. Merlotte, thanks!” Sam’s hand brushed against yours as he took a plate and you drew a sudden deep breath, Sam stopped for a moment, looking at you, obviously hearing the deep breath, but seemed to decide nothing of it as he collected and escorted the plates out to the team that had also moved outside to cook. You rushed into the restaurant, blissfully empty and made your way to the bathroom where you rested against the door, taking in the moment, almost like how Marilyn Monroe would marvel at a diamond ring.

Eventually you pulled yourself from your thoughts of Sam and noticed you were hard in your work pants "Oh damn it!" You groaned. It was hard enough to work alongside Sam, but even worse when you were hard. Knowing this wouldn't go away, you moved towards the toilet, and pulled down your pants. Gripping ahold of your cock, you began to stroke it to thoughts of Sam finally combatting the sexual tension between you at closing and fucking you on the Pool Table, focusing on his beautiful body, how soft his lips were, how hard his nipples could get, how big his cock was, how it would stretch out your walls, how rough his pace was, the delicious Southern voice whispering a manner of dirty things into your ear. You had gotten closer and closer to the edge as time passed, moans and cries of Sam's name from your mouth growing louder and louder until you finally cried out as you shot your load into the toilet. You gathered paper up and tossed it down, and full flushed, determined to get rid of your moment of pleasure, not that others would mind someone walking in the bathroom on National Horny Day, but it was your boss you'd pleasured yourself over and you weren't in the mood for being sentimental. Your process was interrupted by a knock at the door, shit. Not noticing you must have spent a long time to the point you had accidentally caused a cue, you rushed washing your hands "I'll be out in a moment" you shouted back as you rushed the drying of your hands and opened the door. However no one stood in the doorframe, “Hello?” you questioned, a woof breaking the silence. You looked down to see a dog sitting on the floor, you breathed a sigh of relief, maybe the person at the door gave up and walked away, and besides, the dog couldn't have knocked, they don't have hands. “Hey! How did you get inside?” you asked stooping down, the dog turned it’s head towards the back door, as if that somehow explained it, so you crossed over to see if a door had been left open, however no doors were unlocked, and you needed a key to get back inside, you & the other Merlotte's staff had been briefed on National Horny Day protocol by Sam to not let patrons inside the restaurant for Lunch. “Well no one’s outside, let me see where my boss is, maybe you have a tag or something and I can work out where you belong.” The dog shook it’s head as if it understood you but that seemed ridiculous, animals couldn’t understand big complex sentences like that. You were about to turn to Sam’s office when the dog gave a wail “Oh, you don’t like being alone" You stretched out your hands "Come on, let me take you to Mr. Merlotte’s office, I think you’ll like him.” You made to pick up the dog, when something happened, the dog somehow morphed into none other than the naked form of your Boss! You froze in place, literally stunned.

“Y/N, don't freak out alright, let me explain.” you heard Sam say, shock overtaking you “What? How? What?” You went on, however Sam crossed to you & placed his index finger on your lips, you immediately fell silent “I'm a shifter, I have the ability to turn into any living animal on Earth as long as I’ve imprinted on it first, which I do by locking sight with it, I keep a picture of the dog you saw up in my office for easy access.” You had seen the picture before but thought it was a dog that had no value or had passed, so you never bothered him about it. Sam drew a long breath, you could see that this had been a massive weight to come off his shoulders “Y/N, please say something.” “You turned into a dog while I was working, and then shifted back in front of me, naked I might add, I need a moment.” You held onto the wall to steady yourself “Do you want water or?” Sam asked “No I need to control my breathing like earlier.” You responded back, slowly but surely steadying yourself, stopping a massive outburst of anger or confusion, you didn’t know what. After a while, you had gathered yourself, looking up you saw Sam looking both worried and sad all at once “I’m alright Sam” you said, which seemed to relax him “So you’re a shapeshifter, like a vampire but also not at the same time.” “Supes are what people like us are, short for supernaturals.” He explained “So who else knows about this?” “Very few people, please keep it that way.” You nodded, you’d worked out his motivation becoming clear for keeping you back, but you still had questions “How come I’m only finding out about this now?” "I guess I needed to get the right amount of courage to say what I needed to say, kind of like how were keeping in your desire for me." Sam responded. How could he have known that? He wasn't there! All you had heard was a knock at the door and shifted Sam outside of it and dogs didn't have hands, 'But Sam as a human before he turned does' you realised in the back of your head, your mouth going dry.

You stood frozen in place, actually stuck, not knowing what to do, what to say, or how to respond to knowing that Sam had heard you pleasuring yourself to thoughts of him. Sam made his way over to you “‘I know you want me Y/N, so let’s see what else that talkative mouth is good for.” And Sam shoved you against the wall and kissed you, deeply. It was as if a dream had suddenly burst into life right in front of you, like fairy dust had rained down, like the sun shined bright and the stars came out to shine for this alone, you closed your eyes taking in the moment, Sam’s lips against yours, tongue slipping between your lips and teeth and into your mouth, tangling with yours. Sam soon pulled away, leaving you flushed “I've known since the first day, I could smell your lust on you. I was flattered, but once that faded, I knew I loved you as well, and now we're gonna make up for lost time. On your knees” You barely recognised the rough impact your knees had with the wooden floor as you took Sam’s cock into your mouth, sucking deep. “Oh yeah, I’ve been dreaming bout this, how good your mouth would be round my cock, keep going Y/N, fuck!” You ran your tongue over the head of Sam’s cock, tasting the precum building up there, making Sam’s legs begin to buckle “Fuck get up Y/N, pool table now.” He grabbed your hand and rushed over to the other side of the bar, ridding you of your garments along the way, you noticing the beds structured around the bar "Sam, did you set up the horny den here, in the middle of the bar?" You questioned and he shrugged "You were right, it takes long to build outhouses, and we can regulate this evening's speed dating sessions to outside, but fuck all that Y/N, I’m so horny, I need you, your mouth your ass, all of you, Fuck!” Now finally both naked, you got up onto the pool table, Sam moving on top of you. “I want you Y/N. I want to be deep inside you.” "Then take me Mr. Merlotte" you breathed out "Call me Sam baby" he smirked down at you before pushing his cock forwards, burying it in your ass. You cried out, the sting apparent, Sam detecting it, soothed you with wet kisses to your face, and down your neck “Relax Y/N.” Sam said soothingly, and you listened and tried to get used to the sensation of Sam thrusting forwards, as he found a rhythm to fuck you to. “So hot” he groaned as your walls clamped down around his dick “God you're fucking tight Y/N, Goddamn!” He praised. "Fuck Sam, keep going! Fuck me with all you got Shifter" you grinned at him, and smirking back Sam fucked harder, causing you to arch into him "That's right, back your ass onto my cock & arch your back for me. Fuck yes!" You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking you in place as your boss continued to fuck you with everything he had, balls slapping against your ass. "Fuck, this is so damn hot Y/N, don't you love this? Your boss, filling you up with his cock while everyone's outside, you finally getting the man you deserve, I'm gonna have to watch myself round you now, I'll get a glimpse of your ass, mine now, and I'll think back to tonight, and then I'll be in the bathroom stroking myself to you, may even let you get me off. "Suddenly he flipped you over and began to trail his head over your chest, smelling you and rolling around “I’ve got to give you my scent, you already smell great, best scent I’ve ever smelt, but I need to get mine in there.” He explained, worried you would be freaked, he was surprised when completely unpeterbed you leant up to his face and licked the sweat off, trailing down to his chest to do the same, taking time to get a grip on his chest hair. “You don’t need to worry about me not getting you Sam, I’ve already gotten you, consider that me returning the favour.” With a softly growled “Fuck!” Sam kissed you, whilst resuming his new rough pace, the air filling with growls and grunts from the shifter, and pretty moans and groans from your mouth “Fuck I love you Y/N, I fucking love this.” You were a horny mess before your boss, needing, craving more of him, so you begged “Fuck Sam, more!” Sam obliged you, as he began to grunt louder, the sound sounding so amazing to you, he was committing these pleasurable noises because of you “Fucking insatiable, I fucking love it! By the end of this week, our scent will be filling my trailer, my office, hell even the woods where I run.” You threw your head back, letting any single lustful sound fall from you as Sam continued. The end was approaching for you, much to your displeasure which Sam was able to read from your scent “Don’t worry bout it, after service is done for tonight, I’ll take you to my trailer, gonna shower you up so you're all pretty for me, then get you in my bed and we’ll fuck the rest of the night away, alright?” Sam looked down at you, panting heavily, glistening with sweat. You couldn’t find words, so you nodded instead. Sam continued to fuck into you now stroking your cock on top of everything else and within moments you cried out a string of lustful praises to Sam as you shot your load all over the both of you. “Fuck, that’s real nice Y/N. You’re gonna make me cum. You gonna take all of my load?” he asked you breathlessly, needing your approval. Getting enough breath into your lungs you simply got out “Yes!” Sam fucked rougher, with your walls clenching down, milking him of everything he had “I’m going to give you a raise Y/N, you’re gonna make me cum, FUCK!” Sam exploded out in a moan as he shot his load deep, his arms that had been holding him up gave way, causing him to collapse onto you. Panting he gave you a string of kisses, some hickeys down your neck “Mmm. Y/N, was it worth the wait.” “Fuck yes.” You moaned causing him to laugh “Yeah it fucking was, for me as well. God I’m gonna fucking love the time we’re gonna have, gonna get you all showered, fuck a few more times, maybe I’ll cancel tomorrow, so no one can disturb us, make your ride me naked in my office, while I moan out all kinds of dirty things while you take my cock like a slut.” “Yeah, I’d like that.” “Then you got it cheré.” He picked you up off the pool table and tossed you your clothes, placing his Merlotte's shirt back on “Happy Horny Day Y/N.” He said happily sated, looking over at you with a grin “Happy Horny Day Sam.” You returned with equal charm.

[giggleandtears]

What I need

Summary: Ben has a surprise for the OC

Pairings: Benedict Cumberbatch/OC

A/N: I wrote this for my bestie that was having a bad day. Sam is the NSA agent that monitors our messages. It’s an ongoing joke ;-)

Enjoy!

Red Whip - Silencer of Men: Sam is at it again

Giggle Tea: SAM! AHHHH!!!

Giggle Tea: What he do now

Red Whip - Silencer of Men: Sent me a flight confirmation email right after I told you I need  a vacation

Giggle Tea: Dang it Sam! Stop twiddling her vacation  berries. It’s not nice

Red Whip - Silencer of Men: I hate you so much

Giggle Tea: You love me

Red Whip - Silencer of Men: I don’t

Shaking her head, although reluctantly smiling at her best friend, McKay got back to work. Their small conversations throughout the day were always a needed distraction. But inevitably they would end and she was left with her thoughts. Releasing a weighty sigh, McKay hoped it would ease some of the tension in her shoulders that was slowly creeping into her neck. She had been doing it a lot lately. God, she needed a break. 

Rolling over from another restless sleep, McKay grasped blindly for her phone. The insistent buzzing was getting to be rather annoying. Cracking an eye open to the bright display, a lazy smile rolled onto her lips. Just the sight of his name sends tingles to her extremities and a heart constricting warmth blooms in her chest. After hitting the ‘answer’ button, McKay snuggles deeper into her covers and puts the phone to her ear. 

“Hey-woah.”

Ben’s breath hitches as he sinks further into his chair. Her voice is still heavy with sleep and all too adorable. How he wishes he could witness it in person. Blankets wrapped around them. Her soft breath tickling his neck. Curls bouncing in every direction. Gently waking her by smoothing the creases on her cheek made by the pillow. And being rewarded with that lovely contented smile when she finally opened her eyes and saw him. To say he missed her was a mere shadow of the deep longing he felt. 

“Good morning, Love.” The deep richness of Ben’s voice instantly calms her. His voice is so soft, warm. It’s exactly how he sounds when he wakes her from a sweet slumber. Her eyes still shut. Cocooned in the warmth of the covers and his exposed skin. Legs tangled together amongst the sheets. His clean scent filling her nose. Soothing strokes of his finger upon her cheek. Hearing his gentle greeting mixed with the steady thump of his heart beat. Fluttering her eyes open. Smiling at spending yet another day with the most precious gift she’s ever received. Her heart aches with an inner desperation only his presence can relieve. Closing her eyes, McKay tightens the blankets surrounding her yet again, eager to be enveloped by even this small piece of him. “Did I wake you?”

“Yea,'' McKay says, with a yawn, “but I don’t care.” 

Chuckling lowly, “I know you don’t but you need your rest”. A large part of their relationship has always consisted of persuading McKay to go to sleep. She declares it’s a waste of time even when their conversations are reduced to more yawns than actual words. Although, he can’t blame her. Each hour sleeping is an hour closer to goodbye. 

“But not as much as I want to talk to you.”

“And I you. That's why I'm calling so early. Did you get the email with your flight details?”

“My what?” McKay asks, now fully awake. 

“The email I forwarded about your flight tonight.” 

The long silence on the end of the line is very telling. 

“Did you delete it again?” A smile radiating from his voice. “You do it every time I try to surprise you.”

Furiously scrolling through her trash box, “I thought it was Sam!” 

“Don’t worry, Love. I'll resend it. Take a look when you get up. You have plenty of time to get ready.”

Sadly, Mckay has an inkling that their conversation is coming to a close.

“Do you have to go?” Her voice is so small, hesitant. Ben can hear the soft rustle of her blankets. Her legs no doubt started to twitch and bounce. She’s fighting every cell in her body to not ask him for more time. She hates to sound needy and the last thing she wants to do is pressure him. 

But Ben is already silently cursing himself. This was supposed to be a happy call. “Yes. I’m incredibly sorry. I’m already late for an appointment.”

“Ok,” disappointment evident in her hushed tone.

He has to make this better somehow. Using the same hushed tone but warmed by his deep-seated affection, “Just think, my love. We’ll be together in less than 18 hours. No interruptions, no distractions. Just us.” 

And that’s what McKay did. After receiving the email with the flight details, a second email came as well. She could tell it was written in haste, probably in a cabbie on the way to a meeting. It was simple, to the point. It boiled down to, ‘I love you. I miss you. I will always need you.’ It’s exactly what she needed to hear. Her implicit love and renewed excitement propelled her through cleaning, hair washing, and eventually packing. Her flight was of course First Class with all the amenities. Ben never skipped an opportunity to spoil his woman. She is ‘The Woman’ after all. 

So much excitement and anticipation tired McKay out. She was knocked out the moment the plane reached cruising altitude. After she retrieved her bags at baggage claim, she made her way to arrivals. Her feet carried her at double time toward the man holding the placard reading ‘Mrs. Payne’. He recognizes her immediately and greets her with a wide smile. She abruptly halts. Although he’s roughly the same height and build, he most certainly is not Ben.

Extending his hand, "Hello Mrs. Payne. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m your driver for the evening." McKay takes his hand, eager to know why Ben isn't here to meet her. "Mr. Cumberbatch has just a few more appointments", her face visibly drops, disheartened. Rushing to console her, "But Mr. Cumberbatch has assured me he's not far behind."  

Mckay nods forlornly and follows the man to the awaiting car. In his conversational babbling, she learns his name is Christopher. After stowing her bags in the boot, McKay slides into the car. Sighing, she leans her head back against the headrest. 

A rumbling baritone voice is heard across from her. “Hello darling.” Adrenaline coursing through her veins, she snaps to attention searching for the disembodied voice. Peeking out of the partition is her one and only Ben. He smiles that goofy grin of his and disappears. 

“What!” McKay says, frantically looking at all the windows and doors. When the right door opens, her breath is stolen. This is not the polished Ben of red carpets and premieres. No, this is just Ben. The jeans he grabs pastries in, a random shirt of unknown origin, his favorite scarf from 4 anniversaries ago, topped with a worn tweed cap. It’s McKay’s absolute favorite Ben. She lunges for him before he’s completely in the car. They’re a toppled mess of limbs and neither could care less, desperate to touch every piece of the other. 

Once they righted themselves, Ben brushes her curls behind her ear and gently holds her face in his slender fingers. He has so much he wants to say, so much he wants to share with the world he has cradled in his hands. But each and every syllable has died on his tongue. They dissolved the moment he chose to look into her eyes then travel down to the heavenly plains of her lips. The spell was cast and he lacked the power to retreat. A simper rolled onto his lips as he slowly drew her in. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, until they remembered oxygen was a necessity. 

Pulling back, McKay catches her breath. Her entire body is buzzy and delicious. Senses heightened but somehow calm. She notices that Ben’s hat is askew and reaches to straighten it. But it’s Ben that takes it off completely. He smiles to himself, knowing she can’t resist what comes next. McKay cards her fingers through his silken tresses, thrilled when his curls spring back.

“Your hair’s growing back.” She says, with an almost holy reverence. She pulls another curl closest to his crown and giggles when it bounces back into place. Ben beams at her unparalleled joy.

“My god I’ve missed you.” He kisses her forehead and she sighs against him. McKay clutches his arm and rests on his shoulder for the remainder of their journey. 

They reach their cabin a little after nightfall. The air is crisp and clean but the short walk from the car to the door makes it clear it’s very cold. Ben uncharacteristically goes in first, quickly switching on the lights. When McKay walks through the threshold, she’s dazzled by the tiny twinkling lights strewn delicately around the living room. Blankets and pillows make every surface plush and cozy. It’s like walking into the perfect cup of earl grey.  After Ben puts the bags in the bedroom, he returns to find McKay leisurely walking around, lightly touching whatever object calls to her. She picks up a throw off the back of the couch and sinks her fingers into its soft fibers, perfect for snuggles. A familiar scent tickles her nose and she lifts the blanket to her nose. It smells of jasmine. Ben thought of every detail. Love blooms in her as she replaces the throw and looks for her husband. 

He stands in the doorway, patiently watching her take in all the small touches he thought she’d love. Each and every smile they elicit is another treasured memory. She starts to slink over to Ben seductively but loses her coordination halfway there. They laugh together as she seductively shuffles over to him. She places her hands on his chest, looking up through her lashes. 

With sincere appreciation, “It’s perfect.”

Ben wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close. Nuzzling her nose, “You’re perfect.” 

McKay bounces on her toes and places a loud kiss on his neck. “So, what’s next.”

“Well Mrs. Cumberbatch”, he never tires of calling her that and she never tires of hearing it, “would you like to eat a venable feast that I will prepare or would you like to take a moment to relax with the bath of your dreams?”

“Bath. Definitely bath.”

A knowing smile graces Ben’s lips. “It’s already running. Go relax my love.” McKay can’t wait to see what awaits her in the bathroom but realizes Ben has no intention of joining her. She pouts. Tipping her chin up with his knuckle, “Never fear. There’ll be plenty of time for that.” He kisses her nose sweetly before releasing her but his tone was anything but.

Yes, Ben started the bath but he said nothing about the pillar candles flickering, soothing music echoing, or decorative bowl of bath bombs. He even laid out a pair of soft jammies beside her towel. Her whole bath experience was perfect but she had a hankering for a certain ginger. Also, she was hungry. 

Coming into the living room, she surveyed the scene and found she wasn’t quite ready to disturb it. Ben sits on the couch, book in hand. The flames from the fire he’s started dances along his reading glasses. He gently turns a page, lolling his head to the side in concentration. Oh, to be that book. A perfect curl falls onto his forehead. He tries to swipe it away but the gesture is futile. He must be using the products McKay recommended. 

A contented sigh rolls from her lips, catching Ben’s attention. He looks over the couch, a smile springing onto his lips. Looking at the woman leaning against the door frame, his face drops. She is not wearing what he laid out. The blue silk top and shorts hang elegantly off her figure. On any color chip this blue could be overlooked as ordinary or basic. Ben would agree. But this is his favorite shade. It's not about the color itself. It's about this particular shade of blue against her porcelain skin. She becomes a mythical creature only found in the most imaginative minds or in pages of ancient texts. She’s a fairy or nymph glowing brighter than the fire before him. Ben never believed in magic until he met her. 

Swallowing, he offers his hand. “Join me.”

She walks over to him, never feeling as beautiful as when Ben looks at her. He slides onto the floor and Mckay sits between his legs. On the coffee table before them is every sweet and savory horderve she could ever want, paired with two different wines. They eat and drink, talking of everything and nothing. Ben laughs heartily into her back when McKay falls in love with a particular cheese, although it's rather ordinary. 

“What? It’s really good!” She proclaims. 

Ben absentmindedly draws small circles on her thigh. He hasn’t said much but has that derpy grin on his face. He loves to listen to her talk. Her ideas about the world, her balance of compassion and justice, her creativity. Ben wants to hear it all. He hears a good portion but before long, McKay draws him out. Now it’s her turn to be in awe. Ben speaks of the projects that he’s most excited about. He tries his hardest not to drop any spoilers but it’s inevitable when he gets excited. There are two charities he’s thinking about supporting but he’s doing his research and due diligence first. 

“Hey, switch with me.” McKay says, after the food is mostly gone and they are both in that relaxed, satisfied post-food coma. McKay sits against the couch and Ben lay his head in her lap. She lovingly outlines his chiseled jaw with her finger. Tippling his chin up, McKay kisses along his jaw and cheek. Ben smiles, taking in every touch as if it’s their first. HIs heart begins to beat faster and faster. It always does. Once she finds his lips, his pulse skyrockets. McKay feels it ricocheting under her palm as she grabs a fist of his shirt. She explores with a hunger of refined skill and precision. Ben can only hold on for dear life. But once he buries his hand in her curls, changing the angle to deepen the kiss, Mckay loses all grasp of reality. 

Fireworks crackle behind her eyes and she could swear she was floating. Slowly pulling back and unfurling his shirt from her hand, they both pant softly. “Now, what were you saying?” Smiling up at her, he continues. Before long, Ben stops mid sentence, a moan rolling from his lips. This woman is trying to kill him. McKay started massaging his scalp. Through thorough experimentation, she found the perfect amount of pressure and rhythm to make Ben come undone. She eases up a little so he can continue speaking. 

When her hands completely still, he looks up to see her eyes brighten in wonder. Gasping, she eases Ben off her lap and scampers off the floor. She trips on the side of the carpet with a yelp but rights herself before she gets to the window. The night sky swirls with indescribable colors. Greens bend into pinks and purples into oranges. They shimmer in unison with the skill of a well practiced painter. Who knew you could see Aurora Borealis from the Swiss Alps? Ben did. Of course he did. 

Ben comes behind her, wrapping her tightly in his arms. They both stand in awe of the magnificence right outside their window. But Ben is infinitely more in awe of the woman in his arms. He traces her exposed shoulder with his nose. McKay squirms a touch at the sensation. He leaves butterfly kisses on her shoulder and neck, feather light. She releases a breath at the intimate gesture, the inner sting of yearning slowly starting to ease. 

Mckay turns in his arms, nuzzling against his cheek. “Thank you for this. It's literally exactly what I needed.”

“A romantic getaway?”

“No.” She says, pulling away. “You. I just need you.”

Ben places his forehead against hers.

“And I, you. My love.”

[buffynha]

Naya Rivera: A Film Critic’s Appreciation of a TV Star

https://medium.com/@tomcendejas/naya-rivera-a-film-critics-appreciation-of-a-tv-star-8857ddf4e69

Naya Rivera: A Film Critic’s Appreciation of a TV Star.

I was much older than the target demographic for ‘Glee’, but I watched it semi-faithfully for these reasons: A) the intentionally diverse casting and primetime representation of many marginalized groups B) the clever reinvention and integration of pop songs and C) Naya Rivera.

Truth be told, since the show could be so wildly uneven, Rivera was often the ‘A’ reason I tuned in, always hoping she’d get a scene or a number.

Naya Rivera portrayed Santana, the tart-tongued (to put it mildly) captain of Glee’s cheerleading squad. By casting an Afro-Latina actress in the part, the show’s producers were already trouncing on stereotypes; by the year of the show’s debut, curtly dismissive cheerleaders were a staple of teen-centered entertainment, but they were usually white and hetero. As the show progressed, Santana fell for her teammate Brittany, came out to her family and friends, graduated from high school, tried to make her way in the big city, and eventually married Brittany. As a queer Latinx young woman with entrenched defense mechanisms, the character of Santana had to bear a lot of ‘representation’ duty, like an extended cheerleading ‘shoulder sit.’ But here’s the thing: Naya Rivera made it all seem as if it were as easy as a pony-tail toss.

Re-watching the early episodes, with Santana barely getting a cutaway, it’s easy to believe Ryan Murphy that the producers didn’t realize the size of talent they had on their hands when they first cast her. Rivera didn’t so much fight for more screen time as her talent compelled it, willed it. She’s mostly background in the first few episodes, until Santana and Brittany (Heather Morris) get drafted by Jane Lynch’s villainous cheer coach Sue Sylvester (the show does not lack for antagonists) to infiltrate the new Glee club and destroy it from within. From her earliest numbers and ultra-snippy encounters with the other kids, Rivera’s Santana starts to steal scenes.

This wasn’t just a function of the writing and directing. In fact, as clever, campy, sincere and delectably witty as ‘Glee’ could be (rewatching it this week, I chuckled at lots of throwaway lines) it could also be clumsy and over-reliant on whimsy and parody, sometimes in the same scene. In order to make the repeated point that Santana was caustically tough on the outside because she was hiding deep anxiety on the inside, the writers gave her so many withering and cruel things to say that emotional reality was often sacrificed on the altar of ‘Bitchy Quirkiness’ and frankly, because you imagined the writers were cracking themselves up at the saltiness of their latest insult. (Some were classics; too many of them hung on the lower rungs of humor, including easy body function jokes.)

But here’s the next thing: no matter how ridiculously florid the abuse Santana hurled at a classmate or teacher, Naya Rivera delivered the lines with alacrity and impeccable timing. And that’s what really made me sit up on my sofa and take notice.

Here was an actress who seemed to have the range of the marquee women from Hollywood’s ‘Golden Age’ of the 30s and 40s. The tumble of words the ‘Glee’ writers gave her didn’t faze her; she could deliver them with the rapid screwball comedy chops of Rosalind Russell or Jean Arthur. In an era of more tentative, introspective actors, Rivera had the steely drive of Bette Davis or Joan Crawford. Her larcenous way with a wry line was reminiscent of the great character actress Thelma Ritter; her ‘brassiness’ recalled Joan Blondell; the blaze in her eyes felt like the one emanating from Ida Lupino. (The comparisons had a visual equivalent — Rivera’s red-carpet personal style often favored form-fitting pencil skirts, modern iterations of a forties ‘dame.’)

Probably no greater compliment I can give is to say Rivera reminded me of the legendary Barbara Stanwyck. Able to navigate romantic comedy, drama and detective noir with husky-voiced fervor, Stanwyck could be devastating when she was furious yet hard to resist when she worked her charms. She was slight of figure but imposing of presence. Rivera had those cinematic assets as well. Because she started as a child actor, on ‘The Royal Family’ and especially on the great ‘The Bernie Mac Show’, by the time she got to ‘Glee’ she knew how to work a camera, as self-possessed and confident in her talents as Stanwyck was. Why this is important is that when an actor is too self-critical or tentative, we get uncomfortable or pulled out of the story. Reading testimonials from her cast mates (Chris Colfer says he sometimes was so in awe of her performance he’d forget he was in the scene with her) we see they also marveled at her self-assurance, and Rivera cannily used it to make Santana both poised and poignant.

Where Naya Rivera carved out her own space, different from most of our past silver-screen sirens, is that she could sing, and she was Afro-Latina, multi-racial, far from the whites-only casting of the Warner Brothers and MGM eras. That meant something to me; as a Chicano man of a certain age, I can remember times when I was a kid when my family would count all the ‘Latin’ movie stars we could think of and we often stopped literally with the fingers of one hand.

As someone who studies and loves writing about film, my head was nearly scratched raw from trying to figure out why Naya Rivera wasn’t swooped up from ‘Glee’ by the 2010s studio gatekeepers and given the chance to be a film superstar in vehicles that were worthy of her, bypassing the B-movie stage. She didn’t even get the big-screen ‘best friend’ parts in Hudson or Witherspoon rom-coms, which is what actresses of color with comic chops were often relegated to in the 2000s. Why this oversight happened, and I’m sure there’s a lot of background showbiz politics and personal reasons as to why, the result is we were denied someone who could have been a major screen star and given us the pleasure of an above-the-title, singing-dancing-acting triple-threat. If Rivera had been white, the big-screen star-making machinery would have overcome all obstacles to not just take a risk on her, but bet on her.

It really felt like Naya Rivera could do it all. Stanwyck and Davis had formidable talents, but singing wasn’t considered one of them, so that made Rivera a modern-day extension of their bravura, as though they’d been reincarnated in a child actress who was bristling at the confines of Disney channel and tv screens.

And Rivera had that voice! Some of us have our own version of a sort of ‘opposite ASMR’; we derive pleasure from singers who have a husky rasp in their voice, and rather than whisper, know how to belt. In this regard, Naya Rivera was a godsend. It gave her the ability to tackle songs associated with Tina Turner and Amy Winehouse and Stevie Nicks, no small feat. Yet Rivera could also narrow the grit in her wide voice to just a few flecks of hurt and hope, as in the poignant moment when she confesses her love to Brittany in a plaintive version of Christine McVie and Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Songbird.’ (This will sound like sacrilege to other Fleetwood Mac fans — I’ve seen the band in concert many times — but I just never really responded to McVie’s performance of her song except in cool, admiring ways. But I found Rivera’s vulnerable cooing of the song transfixing.)

Rivera’s musical performances on ‘Glee’ traversed many genres, but nothing seemed to catch her off-guard. I enjoyed many of the singers on ‘Glee’ —the show had over 700 musical numbers! — but if Rivera was given the lead, you knew you were about to get a showstopper, complete with signature focus, considerable ebullience and precision as a dancer. These gifts were captured best when ‘Glee’s’ hyper-active camera and editing stood still and just let her perform.

Rivera tackled Turner’s ‘Nutbush City Limits’ with ferocity. It’s too bad that the way she was filmed — with the aforementioned slice-and-dice, even leering editing — forever leaves us with a case of ‘what might have been.’ We get precious snippets of seeing Rivera singing, while the musical filming style of ten years ago, influenced by ‘Moulin Rouge’ and ‘Chicago’, attempts to whip us into an erotic frenzy with close-ups of halter-top abs and pom-pom zooms. This was a shameful miscalculation, because it has the opposite effect. If the camera had just stood planted and simply recorded the performance, Naya Rivera would have delivered the sexual fire and then some.

The best musical numbers with Rivera showcase all her talents — the ability to act out a lyric, the Fosse-flavored choreography, and a singing voice alternately tender and roof-raising. Her performance of Winehouse’s ‘Valerie’, in which she gets to ditch the ‘Cheerios’ uniform and stomp the stage in a party frock stands out as one of ‘Glee’s’ best and most effortless songs overall — it really looks like a romp that captures teenage brio and which would be electric to see live. (Later in the show, when Rivera sings ‘Back to Black’, you even got a glimpse that, as criminal as it might seem to suggest to purists, there’s a helluva Amy Winehouse jukebox Broadway musical waiting in the wings somewhere, and Rivera could have easily been its star.)

As commanding as Naya Rivera could be as a solo singer, her duets were full of a delicious tension. The job in a duet is to share the scene as democratically as possible while still bringing out the best in your partner and elevating the song. These were skills many in the cast had, though they occasionally had to juggle the meta-element that when the show became a phenomenon, the behind-the-scenes who-likes-who, who-hates-who gossip that fascinated early social media audiences could be at odds to the show’s scripted plot (though it seems the show’s creative team also deliberately worked the real-life stuff into the fictional stuff. A notable example of this was when Rivera and Lea Michele, who were rumored and since confirmed to be clashing backstage personalities — and as recent reports show, Rivera wasn’t the only one to find Michele difficult — sing a sweet song called ‘Be Okay’, almost as though they were ordered to by the network. Both are thoroughly professional, and by the end you don’t just think that maybe Santana and Rachel are really friends, but that Rivera and Michele had buried all their hatchets in a Fox studio wall as well.)

The duet partner for Santana I liked best was provided by one of ‘Glee’s’ other volcanic vocalists, Amber Riley. As Riley has since shown in her London West End role as Effie in ‘Dreamgirls’, and in TV productions of ‘The Wiz’ and ‘The Little Mermaid’, she is a formidable talent. Yet watch one of their songs together, ‘The Boy is Mine’, and see if your eyes don’t want to stay just watching Rivera’s performance in its entirety?

To see a more dynamic and perfectly matched dual performance, ‘Glee’ gave us the galvanic gift that is Amber Riley and Naya Rivera alternating and harmonizing into their own ‘wall of sound’ on the Tina Turner classic, ‘River Deep Mountain High.’ Turners vocals on the original are so singular, nothing can touch them. Just the way she crests the first line with a jagged crag in the middle of a note lets you know this is going to be sung from a place of both ache and power.

The ‘Glee’ version leans into the power angle. Santana and Mercedes brim with the ‘girlpower’ term used at the time, the youthful brio of being able to dream of scaling mountains. The choreography then counter-points and really gets it right by giving the singers the dance moves reminiscent of 60s girl-groups, and while it starts out sort of cute and ironic, by the end the choreography becomes mature and electrifying. When Riley sings the first verse, she has gospel runs and exquisite phrasing. She could easily overwhelm anyone. Rivera’s choice is to find her own place to put the appealing but melancholy cracks in her voice, harmonize beautifully, and then release her own blasts of power. The performance says more about ‘empowerment’ than pages of script could. ‘River Deep Mountain High’ is also notable for giving Rivera a chance to be charming in ways she usually didn’t get to be with all her ‘mean girls’ posing; when they get to the part about the ‘rag doll’, both singers mug, but Rivera’s brief clownishness when acting out that rag doll is unexpectedly loose and charming.

Of course, the journey for Santana on the show, and you’ll find many ‘Glee’ fans and pop culture critics who will argue that the show ultimately was about Santana, crucially centers on the classic ‘finding your voice’ view of young adulthood, and central to that, the relationship between Santana and Brittany. Nearly any news or lifestyle site of the past week that had a space for pop culture featured the heartbroken, deeply affected voices of many lesbians and queer people writing about the deep connection they felt towards the relationship and the visibility and identification it gave them.

Of more than passing interest, depending on how transgressive you thought of it, was the pairing between an Afro-Latina character and a white blonde cheerleader who could have stepped out of the background of a Taylor Swift video. Think of where we were in 2009 and that still would have been pushing boundaries. (The show was one of the first to normalize same-gender kisses.)

In Rivera’s scenes with her non-accepting Abuela (the great Ivonne Coll), she is as real as it gets — not only deeply hurt, but uncomprehending in the way so many gay kids can be when they are rejected simply because of their orientation. “But I’m the same person I was a minute ago.” One can imagine these scenes (and the contrapuntal ones between Kurt and his more accepting father) provided a lifeline to young queer people themselves caught up in the process of making decisions about how to come out, and in particular, to Latinx queer people, who found representation and resources hard to come by and certainly not in the media.

And in real life, Rivera, who did not identify as gay, proved to be a significant ally. She responded to queer fans, particularly young women, and she represented by hosting the GLAAD media awards, advocating for The Trevor Project and by speaking responsibly and articulately about what her fans had confessed to her.

The way the show frequently featured LGBTQ imagery was playful and willful. They weren’t representing all queer women; they were representing these two using a particular transgressive iconography. Teen lesbian cheerleaders weren’t invented with ‘Glee’; the queer film ‘But I’m a Cheerleader’ was released in 1999. But by keeping Santana (as well as the other ‘Cheerios’) in their squad outfits 24/7, Rivera started to look like it wasn’t just her cheer attire, it was her superhero uniform. You have your masked and fully-covered marvels; here was a fearless teen titan in sleeveless emblematic mini-skirt cutting through the hallways. Her superpowers? A withering glare that could refreeze the Arctic, an ability to shoot insults like a laser beam, and a pinkie-finger-linking with Britney that could heal your heart. Most of all, a voice that could fill a canyon and fleet feet that could leap over all calamity.

Until she couldn’t. When superheroes die, mere mortals look to the sky and feel, perhaps unreasonably but still undeniably, abandoned. Shocked, stunned, grievous. We look backward, because looking forward has just been removed as an option, and the realization of what will never be is too excruciating.

I couldn’t figure out what happened to Naya Rivera after ‘Glee’, given my hopes and expectations. She released quite a catchy single, ‘Sorry’, and later a memoir, ‘Sorry (Not Sorry.’) I didn’t realize she had joined a new show, the Youtube continuation of the ‘Step Up’ series, but now I do and she’s terrific in it. But to those of us who dropped our eyes from her a bit, I just remember it was because it seemed like there was tabloid stuff, personal tumult, a few seemingly misguided appearances or comments here or there. I was a hopeful, hopeful fan of her talent, not slavish to any TMZ notorieties — but those great female stars of the 30s and 40s? They were no strangers to splashy headlines either.

When I did watch ‘Turner Classics’ or my library of DVDS with some of those ‘Golden Age’ actresses, more than a few times I’d think of Rivera, search IMDB to see if she was getting that Oscar-worthy role yet. Or when there were increasing public discussions that called for better representation of people of color in media, I’d think: Naya Rivera! What’s she doing now? Why isn’t she in a big movie, headed for her superstardom? How did Hollywood’s famously white-screen blindness eclipse even gifts this generous?

So I’d check in the way we do now, with her IG feed or in passing hear about the occasional tweet. There would be a picture of her beauty, sometimes posed in the ‘sexy’ currency that builds and keeps ‘followers’ entranced and ‘promotes content.’

But occasionally Naya would post a picture with her son Josey, who she eventually was raising as a single mom. As many of her followers saw, in those fateful days of early July, I ‘liked’ a beautifully tender picture with Mom and Josey, eyelash close, captioned ‘Just the two of us.’ It seemed so peaceful. This must be what she wants to be doing, I thought. Happy for her. One of the miracles of ‘Glee’ was how they put on hour-long musicals once a week for six years, with 18-hour days. Who could begrudge anyone some rest after that?

But selfishly I also still wanted that album, that movie, that new film directed by her, something more from the force of nature that is, was, Naya Rivera and I gave more than a passing thought that with today’s reckonings, with greater sensitivity to the racism that undergirded so many institutions, the world would finally open up to her in the way it did for so many white actresses before her. It was her time.

Until it wasn’t.

That’s hard to reconcile. We’re supposed to say, as fans from afar, our grief is nothing compared to that of her family, friends, cast mates and of course that’s true. But it’s also true that the grief of a fan is not nothing. Those of us who didn’t know her personally, but were in awe of her talent, shouldn’t shut feelings of loss down. I think it honors Naya Rivera to mourn publicly the way so many fans have, ‘Gleeks’ or not. She was someone who had such hard-won achievement yet still such potential. And for some reason, the power brokers that be didn’t see it or find a place for it in time. We can grieve that mistake, and that which can’t be brought back or won’t be left as a long-career legacy.

That someone with so much soulful presence could suddenly disappear from this earth, at a time when we are all so careful not to lose each other, was wrenching. In consolation, I turned to a lot of Rivera’s performances from the show, though now of course they all carry a melancholy, stinging twinge. (For more on this, just look at the many comments on the pages where the videos are originally posted.)

You hear Naya Rivera sing Winehouse, and it’s hard not to think of how they both died young. You see her love for Brittany acted so convincingly, you think about Heather Morris, the actress who played her and wonder how she will weather this — thoughts that are none of your business, but you still have them. I found myself thinking of Kevin McHale who played ‘Artie’ on the show, and who seems so clear-headed; what would he say? You read Chris Colfer’s tribute to her and shed more than a few tears. You hear her sing ‘If I Die Young’ in tribute to Corey Monteith, and you recall that Rivera’s body was finally found on the day that Monteith died. It’s a lot.

There’s a memorable moment in the early run when Monteith’s Finn stops Santana in the familiar Glee alley of lockers and linoleum. She’s annoyed that he has outed her, and indeed he’s done her wrong. But the character is also written as sincere. Finn’s logic may be that of a teenager’s but he tells Santana that he didn’t ‘out’ her to hurt her, but to help her realize that she would still be accepted. He’d heard of someone who recorded an ‘It Gets Better’ video but later killed himself. He doesn’t want that to happen to her; ‘you mean something to me.’ He tells her that if something ever happened to her and he didn’t do everything in his power to stop it, he could never live with himself. Santana is left speechless at the tenderness, even as she’s furious — Rivera could convey both in a single look.

The context we have now in 2020 makes the brief scene heavy with portent and sadness. In actuality, Rivera was saddened that she couldn’t do more to stop Monteith’s untimely death from a drug overdose. That would be subtext enough. But now, with the timing of her death and the anniversary of his? It’s shattering. But I kept watching, and there was something that reminded me of my own experience teaching high school. A few minutes later, or a few episodes later, the kids are singing and dancing and throwing ‘Big Quenches’ at each other, and seldom has the show’s mission to show the fullness of life seemed so clear. I’ve found that to be true when I’ve gone through difficult times, or my school has, and still had to walk through the classroom door. No matter how sad I’ve been, there’s always a student offering, well, cheer.

Maybe we did get the movie Naya Rivera was on this earth to make after all. Because that scene between Santana and Finn was early in the show’s run. By ‘Glee’s’ end several years later, Santana didn’t hurt herself. She survived high school, she stumbled a little but recovered, she found her way, she was able to get onstage at a Broadway audition and sing ‘Don’t Rain on My Parade’ and give us a big, big moment of triumph; maybe she’ll get the part, she’s definitely going to get the girl. Just like an old musical.

And that’s why I wrote this: we talk about ‘Glee’ as a TV show, but maybe it was one long film. If you go back and watch ‘Glee’ with a particular focus on Rivera, you’ll see an extraordinary rise-and-fall-and-rise-again achievement; she’s one of the major leads of an epic. Sure it’s a movie full of silliness, toss-aways, occasional meanderings or repetitive plotlines, but it’s also full of heart and compassion. This seasons-long coming-of-age starred this African/Latina/Queer Ally/Queen who reigned with a crackling laugh, a stunning beauty and vivacious spirit.

If that’s all we were fated to get of Naya Rivera, she hit her mark — the line where enough and not enough meet. Maybe the silvery phantoms of Bette Davis, Rosalind Russell, Joan Crawford and Barbara Stanwyck, who all knew their own injustices within the Hollywood system, maybe they were all waiting in the wings as she sang the curtain down. “Come on kid,” they might say, in old movie parlance. “You went out there a youngster but you came back: a Star!”

✍️The Couch Tamale✍️

Film, Music, Peak TV, Diversity— Tom Cendejas is sitting on a sofa and unwrapping Pop Culture with a Latino eye, one husk at a time.

[hyucksong]

vengeance. pt.2| lee taeyong

summary: You survived, somehow. And you were planning on getting your vengeance. You’d be taking down the company from the inside -- and no one could stop you. (cont. of mafiahacker!taeyong blurb)

warning: cursing, violence, angst, blood

word count: 2k

   A splintering headache graced your consciousness; accompanied by indescribable pain shooting down every nerve in your battered body. With a low groan, you brought a hand up to your face, cracking your jaw loudly. As you pulled your hand away, you noticed blood covering your knuckles and bruises trailing down your arm. 

   Aside from the hangover-like headache and the tangible bruises and cuts, there was a deep hurt that encapsulated your heart and memories. “Damn,” You muttered, “This feels like the worse hangover ever.” With a sigh, you sat up, resting your tired arms on your knees that were pulled up close to your body.

    Scanning the area, you were surprised to see no guards around, or any living thing. A sudden rattling from a nearby trashcan forced a flinch from your body, but the small raccoon that ran from about it spread a smile across your face. 

   “So they leave without checking if their target it actually dead?” You hoisted yourself up, dusting off the dirt and dry flaking blood from your clothes. “Totally professional.” A loud sigh left your lips as you felt around your pockets and felt your keys and wallet. “Dumbasses.” Was all you said before walking out of the back of the building towards the parking lot, and eventually towards your small apartment.

   The keys fell into the bowl with a clink, the sound instilled a familiarity that calmed you as you mulled over the happenings of earlier that night. The single digital clock in your surprisingly tidy apartment beeped to signal the arrival of a new hour, 3:00 am. You paid no mind however, and instead shuffled your feet to your bathroom to inspect the damage done to your body, and most importantly your face. 

   After a mere few seconds of looking, you noticed the chip that was implanted behind your ear by the company must’ve short-circuited, since the area was irritated by a small but stinging burn. You clicked your tongue and touched the various cuts on your face, a strong anger taking over your senses.

   The company wanted to wipe you out for not killing a kid -- how fucked was that? They forced your closest friends to watch you die or die themselves. They hurt not only you, but they hurt what meant most to you. Your heart clenched as the image of Taeyong smiling at you came up, sending your emotions into a frenzy. You rubbed your face with your hands and turned on the shower, getting ready to clean up before devising a plan to bite the sons of bitches where it most hurt them:

   From the Inside.

-

   The Inside was both a literal and tangible place while also being an idiom -- there was a place, or more so group, called the ‘Inside’, consisting of the company’s best field workers and hackers; generally just the best personnel. You were one of the best, yes, but you were never part of this, “Inside”, you were more an all-rounder for all areas of the company that concerned disguise. But the delicious taste of vengeance coated your bloody tongue as you were consumed with the want to take down this bitch of a company; SM. You slept with a smirk on your face, hoping that the company would like what you were going to give them; they could even consider it a ‘going-away’ gift. From you. 

   When you woke up the next morning, you immediately set your plan into motion, knowing that this would take a year at least. Not only did you have to infiltrate the company, you also had to give yourself a whole new identity, which honestly wouldn’t be hard with your level of expertise, but you’d also have to gain the trust of the president of the company to make it into the Inside. There you could have full-time access to the control panels for the security of the company. This would let you go virtually unsuspected and undetectable to cameras, including those to the presidents office. From there you could kill him however you wanted, and trust me did you have ideas. 

   Yes, there were probably shorter ways, but none of them would be as clean and satisfactory as infiltrating from the deepest artery of SM. Grabbing your keys determinedly, you walked out the cozy apartment preparing to go out for a vast shopping spree for new clothes, makeup, a new apartment, and a whole new self. You were willing to spend any expense to get this job done, and you undeniably excited to watch the Jenga tower of the company fall as you took a block from its unstable base. 

-

   The boys were not part of the Inside, they were part of the NCT division. They specialized, generally, in international relations, whereas other divisions specialized in professional thievery or assassinations. Taeyong was the only member part of the Inside since all hackers were unless they were just starting out. Though you longed to see the boys, you knew you wouldn’t see them just wandering around the company floors. 

   You walked into the company on the last day of your sixth month, adorned by your new persona. The once bubbly and extroverted girl the company previously knew was now a cold and robotic individual who was a calculating as they came. You were still doing quite mundane things around the company, like finances and supply checks -- they were boring but necessary predecessors to your end goal. 

   You at at your desk, keeping your uptight personality through a stick-straight posture. You hair was flat-ironed with long bangs that covered your eyebrows, which helped hide your expressions. Your coldness kept people from getting close to you, and while you missed the human contact, you grew used to the loneliness. 

   “Wow, kid. You sure are a natural at this stuff. It’s like you’ve done this all before.” Your supervisor chimed, smiling at you. You suppressed a grin and looked her straight in the eyes, maintaining uncomfortably tense eye contact. “Thank you. The praise is unneeded but very much appreciated.” The high-up shifted awkwardly and quickly nodded before leaving your cubicle. You smirked at your spotless acting.

    “Mrs.Kim Sooyoung, please come up to meeting room five on floor three. Immediately.” You got up quickly and made your way to the said room that was announced over the intercom system. You responded to your new alias just as quick as your own name. You passed by a large mirror on the way, and you briefly glanced at your unrecognizable reflection. Your glasses,contouring and cool-toned makeup shaped a new face; your personality, living space, body language -- all was tailored to Ms.Kim Sooyoung, not L/N Y/N.

   You made your way into the meeting room, almost gasping when you saw the familiar faces of your old friends. You tried hard to skip over the abyss-like eyes of Taeyong, but you couldn’t help it. You rested for a moment on him, drinking in his tired but nonetheless flawless appearance. His eyes seemed to only flick over your face, not sparing you even a second. You internally huffed, knowing that it was better like this. You sat far away from the boys, but the burn of their stare still pained you. However, you wrote on your clipboard, ignoring the curious gazes.

   Chenle, however, ignored this unapproachable-ness and rolled his chair over to you with a childish smile that melted your heart. “You’re the new negotiation specialist, right? You look like it.” He laughed. “I’m Chenle, I’m part of the NCT Dream Division. I’m training to be a disguise specialist like --” He stopped himself, the room growing tense. You clenched your jaw as sadness crept through his expression. “Uh, never mind. Um, what’s your name?”

   You let out an annoyed sigh and turned to him with cold eyes. “Kim Sooyoung.” He waited for the rest of your introduction, but there was none left. Your voice threw him off from his anger, why did you sound so familiar? Your voice was knocking at the innermost parts of his memories. He brushed it off with an awkward smile however, but not before the whole room got the same thoughts. You cursed inwardly at yourself for not changing the tone of your voice. 

   Taeyong’s heart sped up at the sound of your first words; you said Kim Sooyoung, but you sounded so much like the hole in his heart. He shook his head and even rolled his eyes, trying to take his attention off of you, but he couldn’t keep his gaze from shifting back to you every once in a while. The tension didn’t release until the click of a doorknob caught everyone’s attention. Taeyong watched as your stiff body stood up and bowed at ninety degrees at the CEO and President of SM. He scoffed, the Y/N he knew and loved would never do that -- she hated the man.  

   “Mr.CEO, nice to meet you. I’m Kim Sooyoung of the Trades department. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Your voice rang off the walls. It was the only sound in the room. Mr.Sooman only nodded before sitting down in his creaky seat at the head of the table. “I know. You’ve been causing quite a stir, you know. Your negotiation skills are like no other. You’ve managed to get us some new supplies for much less than what they would’ve been. 

   “Thank you for the praise, Mr.Sooman.”

   “You’re welcome. This was why I called you to a meeting. I think your work is spectacular and I would love to promote you to a higher position for a talented division.” He motioned to the boys. “The men here are part of the --”

   “The NCT Division. I know. They consist of 21 members, all in separate sub-divisions of NCT Dream, NCT 127, inactive NCT U; the original, and the Chinese division of WayV.” The president chuckled and quirked an eyebrow at you. You pushed your sliding glasses up, the light shifting and bouncing off of them.

   “I did my research.” 

   “There’s no point in snooping. It’s annoying. What did you look into us for, anyway? Any reason other than because you’re annoying?” Your head whipped towards the sound of the hoarse voice. You met the sharp gaze of Taeyong. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Everyone knows of the divisions. This is a mafia company, after all. Everyone who joins knows. It’s not just a trade enterprise. Please,” You scoffed before continuing, “The only annoying thing here is you and your nagging voice. I’d appreciate it if you’d shut it.” The dead silence of the room made you panic, you definitely over-stepped your boundaries. His dark eyes never left yours.

   “You’re much more sharp-tongued than I previously thought. I’m glad I made this decision.” You cleared your throat and fixed your posture, turning away from Taeyong. “What would that decision be, sir?” He smirked and put his chin on his folded hands. “Well, you’ll be the negotiation specialist of the NCT Division.”

   You mentally cheered, knowing that your plan was drifting down the right river. But you reminded yourself that you had to keep your image. “And why would I want that?” You countered. You heard Taeyong mutter ‘ungrateful bitch’, and ignored the stab it gave your heart.

   “The NCT Division is the best one there is. It’d do you good to accept it.” The threateing voice of Mr.Sooman sent unwelcomed shivers down your spine, and you weakly nodded at his forceful tone. “Yes sir. I’m sorry.” He huffed and stood up.

   “That was all. I’ll leave the rest for Taeyong and the others. They’ll teach you the ropes. Dooyoung is the Negotiations leader, and you’ll shadow him for a while until you’re completely debriefed on how things run. I’ll be taking my leave now.” He left briskly and walked out, the door shutting loudly. 

   “Well, looks like you’re with us now.” You gathered your things and walked towards Dooyoung, who gave you a tight-lipped smile. “Please teach me well, Mr. --”

   “Dooyoung. Just call me Dooyoung. I’ll take you to the offices, so please follow close behind.” You nodded and started out the door, but not before looking at Taeyong and watching how his eyes trailed over you painfully. Your throat dried up and your heart twisted. 

   You found yourself not paying attention to Dooyoung as you repeatedly reminded yourself that you were here to take down SM; there was no way to go back to how things were with Taeyong. 

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 3...

[cupidsmusings]

Hi, I love reading people’s fics since I have no talent to do it myself lol. How about a fic about Eisuke meeting his mc a maid in his hotel they started by just one night stand and it was only that because mc was scared because she was only a maid so they had a secret relationship until she falls pregnant and everyone finds out. Happy ending. Hope it makes sense. Thank you.

(It might be because this is my first request but I went a little bit overboard. Sorry xD)

- When the two first met outside of work it was at a bar. She had been invited to such a high-end bar by a friend she’d made all the way back in middle school. It was her birthday, and though she was never really able to go to such swanky places, her friend decided to treat her to a special night in lieu of her regular home birthday parties.

- She had first spotted him when he was talking to another guy who was just as sharply dressed as the other patrons. When he spotted her she felt her stomach drop. Was it rude that she was staring? Of course, it was! Everyone knew it was! Oh shit, he’s making his way over. Act natural.

- She acted slightly natural, but everyone could tell that she was a second away from biting her tongue while saying hello to him. Her friend was amused that her friend might get some attention from such a handsome guy, left her to go to the bathroom. 

- It was fifteen minutes into the conversation that she realized he thought she was the daughter to one of his business partners. Afraid to embarrass him, she kept it to herself that she was not his business partner's daughter but was in fact just one of the maids at his hotel.

- A few more rounds of booze the two were deliciously plastered. Before either of them knew it they were at his house. Clothes were strewn about and by the time they reached his bed the two were as naked as the day they were born.

- The next morning the two were equally mortified, both for entirely separate reasons though. She had just slept with her boss. He had just slept with his business partner’s daughter. Both thought they royally screwed up. While the two got dressed she pulled herself together and told him the truth that she was not his business partner’s daughter, but was just another person entirely. She purposely kept the fact that she was a maid at his hotel a secret because she didn’t want to get fired or be accused of trying to extort him for money or any other scandalous accusation that could ruin her career.

- After that, she made sure he never took notice of her. Head always lowered when the two passed. It was rare for the two to pass one another but it was always best to be prepared. 

- Eventually, though, he had contacted her for a conversation. Terrified that he found out who she really was, she about vomited. When the two met again it became clear that they both had sexual tension. Memories came flooding back to both of them and the compatibility they shared that night was tremendously overwhelming. 

- From there the two started up a sexual relationship. Still afraid of being fired, she kept her profession a secret. To be fair though, it wasn’t like he was asking her about it.

- More time passed, and it felt like their relationship was growing more intimate. They started having dinner with one another. Watched tv with one another. Some nights they didn’t even have sex and just fell asleep on the couch. 

- Worried by the advancement of their relationship she pleaded with Eisuke not to announce to anyone. At first, he thought she was actually married, but when he found out that she was just worried that people would think she was after him for his money, he responded that it was “Stupid to worry about what anyone else thought, but whatever, I don’t mind.”

- Thrilled that he respected her enough to keep their relationship a secret, she found herself realizing that she wasn’t just fond of him but was indeed in love with him.

- It was a year after they first met that she realized she was pregnant. It came as a shock, and for a moment she was afraid of how her relationship would unravel because of it. But it was when she was throwing up that she realized she needed to take care of the being growing inside her. She didn’t have time to be worried about her relationship. She had a more important thing to think about than losing her job and lover. 

- She told him the night he invited her over for their anniversary. She told him about how she was actually a maid there. How she didn’t want him to find out and think she was only sleeping with him for his money. How she didn’t want to be fired because of their one-night stand. But that she was pregnant now, and that their baby deserved parents that would put the baby first instead of themselves. 

- She said he didn’t need to pay child support but that he must be part of his child’s life. It took two to tango and it would take two to take care of the bundle of joy that would eventually be born. His very mature response was, “Get out. I need time to think.”

- “You can think all you want but I will force you to be part of this child’s life if I have to.” And then she left.

- He didn’t have to love her, but if he couldn’t bring himself to love their baby, she would be far more heartbroken. 

- He was destroyed when he found that she had been lying to him. He knew that her reasons were solid, but it still hurt. 

-Days passed before she found Eisuke standing at her front door. She, of course, let him in. It was that night that the two had a very in-depth conversation on what their relationship meant to both of them and what they wanted their relationship would be in the future. 

- Prepared to face hell and high water together, they had an abrupt marriage announcement. They loved one another and the two doubted they’d ever stop.

[onceuponalegendbg-rwby]

Ship of Dreams (pt 8)

True to Weiss’ prediction, Blake showed her new friend around the dining room. Adam had split off soon after entering to escort Kali to their table, leaving the two women to roam. The tension melted from Blake’s shoulders the moment he walked away, and she interlocked her arm with Yang’s. 

They walked around for a bit, Blake sharing secrets and introductions with a conspiritory smile. She watched as Yang nodded and smiled her way through the interactions, dazzling them with a little charm. Blake could only imagine how nervous Yang must have been, but she never once faltered. Sure, the majority of the people probably assumed she was new money at best but she was still part of the club. 

It was...fun, honestly, walking and introducing the taller woman and listening to her speak. Even her cadence had altered slightly to seem more upper crust. It was a little stilted, old habits clearly being hard to completely get rid of. 

Eventually they did find their way to the table where Adam, Kali, and others waited. Yang seemed to make a move to pull out Blake’s seat for her but the staff beat her to it. She instead took her seat two seats down from Blake -  next to Weiss interestingly enough - who sat next to Adam, and on the other side of him was Blake’s mother. Willow was also placed at the table, along with a few others that Yang didn’t recognize. 

Of course, Adam could always be counted on for lively conversation. 

“So, Miss Xiao Long, you’ll have to tell us how the accommodations down below deck are,” he prodded not even halfway through the first dish. “I hear there truly was no expense spared.” He looks at her the entire time he speaks, this infuriating little smirk on his face, which only widened at the mutters of those that hadn’t been in the know. 

Yang’s seen his type plenty of times. She’d been around long enough to recognize the kind of arrogance the redheaded man wore like a badge of honor. Been on the receiving end of enough stares to know how to smile and deflect. 

So that’s what she did. She smiled, even if it didn’t reach her eyes. “They must not have, seeing as there’s hardly any rats.” 

The reply got her a chuckle from the table. Adam shifted, eyes gleaming again. “The young lady is joining us from third class,” he told their - for all intents and purposes - audience. “Mrs. Belladonna thought it would be a good idea since my fiance seems to enjoy her company.” 

Blake, for her part, sips from her glass. “Miss Xiao Long is actually quite the artist,” she says matter of factly. “She was kind enough to show me some of her work.” She shoots Yang a little smile, showing her sincerity no matter how brief the expression is. 

The waiters bring the fruit bowls out and Adam starts taking some with the tongs with a short sound. “I’m afraid Blake and I disagree on what qualifies as art.” Blue eyes land on her again. “Not to impugn your work, miss.” 

Yang dismisses the obvious slight with a wave of her hand, taking note of Weiss folding the cloth napkin in her lap and following suit. It’s just playing a part, she tells herself, faking it until she makes it. What does give her pause is the utensils next to her plate. 

Surely these aren’t all for her. 

“Just start from the outside and work your way in,” Weiss murmurs out the side of her mouth, as if sensing Yang’s well hidden anxiety. The blonde’s grateful if that is the case. 

And so dinner continues, eventually circling back to Yang when a fellow on the other side of the table - an Arthur Watts, Yang has been able to gather - questions where Yang even lives, where she’ll be living once they reach Saunus. 

Honestly it’s the type of question Yang had hoped to avoid, though had also expected to come at some point. Of course these people would be interested in this new sideshow that had infiltrated their midst. 

With a moment of hesitation, a quick glance at Blake, she wipes at her mouth.  “Well, currently, like you my address is the magnificent Titanic. Once we reach the shore, however; I imagine I’ll be on the gods’ good humor.” She takes another sip of her champagne, the flavor a bit richer than she would have liked, but like most things tonight, she knows not to take it for granted. 

“I’ll most likely end up taking up some odd jobs here and there to help earn some cash to travel,” she continues. She has their attention after all. “I mean, the only reason I’m here with you fine people is because I won a lucky hand of poker.” 

Another man, an even older gentleman than Watts with gray hair and little pink bowtie, chuckles with humor. “All life is a game of luck, I suppose.” 

Adam shakes his head. “You have to make your own luck in this world,” he says looking from that gentleman to Yang.”Surely you think the same?” 

Yang hums with a half-hearted nod.  

“And you find that sort of rootless existence appealing do you?” 

The voice that asked isn’t one Yang had been anticipating. Apparently no one else at the table had either. All eyes fall on Willow Schnee, who isn’t even looking at Yang as she drinks her red wine, pausing to slowly twirl it around in her glass. What had surprised Yang the most was the complete and utter apathy that carried throughout her tone. 

Blake is the one that notices Weiss’ hand curling into a fist on the table. 

Yang actually laughs softly when familiar icy blue eyes finally do land on her, the older Schnee actually betraying the apathetic tone with the shrewd eyes that stare back. Breaking character for a moment, she leans back in her chair, buttered roll in hand. “Why, yes ma’am, I do,” she answers with absolute certainty. “It’s honestly a bit of a thrill to wake up in the morning and not know what the day has in store. All I need is the air in my lungs, a few scraps of paper, and my si-” She cuts herself off with slight shake of her head as she takes a bite out of the bread in her hand. 

“Point is, I’ve learned to take each day as it comes because you never know what hand you’re going to get dealt. You have to make every day count.” 

Blake listens, failing to fight back a smile at the sincerity that radiates off the blonde in this moment, at the pure shine in her eyes. It’s like the conversation up on the deck again, the way there’s a bit of a genuine smile amongst the polite. 

Weiss definitely notices, and also notes that there’s a certain fondness in the slight upturn of those lips. The heiress averts her gaze. It’s none of her business. 

“Well said,” she instead replies. 

Blake raises her glass. “To making it count.” Amber eyes never leave Yang, even as the others follow her lead. There’s a different kind of shine to Yang’s eyes when they meet Blake’s, and it’s wonderful to see. 

It’s easy to ignore the man at her side, even as she shoots a glance from her to Yang and back. 

The dinner comes to an end rather quickly after that. It’s delicious, Yang can’t deny that. It’s the best thing she’s eaten in...well, most likely her whole life. But like the tale of Cinderella, the blonde knows she must depart from this world of glitter and gold soon. It seems the others have the same thought. 

“They’re about to disappear into a cloud of smoke and congratulate themselves on being masters of the universe,” Blake says lowly now that Weiss and her mother have departed, leaving no one between them. They both laugh when Arthur makes a comment about escaping to the brandy room with the other gentlemen, which includes Adam. 

Kali walks over, a hand landing gently on her daughter’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you could join us, Yang.” 

Yang smiles, standing from her seat. “I had a great time tonight,” she tells the older woman. “Though I’m afraid I’ll have to be going now.” Her lilac gaze lands on Blake. The shorter woman seems disappointed. 

Adam walks around. “Probably for the best,” he says, walking right passed the blonde with a grin toward the group of men. 

Yang spares him only a glance before returning her attention to younger raven haired woman. She takes her hand. It’s honestly a spur of the moment decision, an absolute impulse, that makes Yang raise the hand clasped in hers and plant a brief kiss on the back. 

And with one last smile she straightens and walks out toward the doors, Blake watching her leave. It takes her a moment to realize Yang slipped a note into her hand. 

‘Meet me by the clock.’ 

[thenovelartist]

Kitty’s Key, set 8

<Previous  Next>

22. Sick

“Chat’s been a little off as of lately,” Alya commented from across the table at the café they were hanging out at. “Haven’t you noticed?”

“No,” Marinette said. “But something tells me you’re going to explain your reasoning.”

As suspected, Alya turned her phone around for Marinette to see. “Look, he’s constantly looking at Ladybug, like, all the time. More than normal. But he’s toned down his flirting. He’s like… not lovesick for her anymore and more… protective? Observant?”

Marinette bit back her smirk. Chat was plenty lovesick for Ladybug, but she couldn’t say a word without launching an inquisition. “I think you’re overthinking it, Alya.”

Alya frowned, staring at her phone. “Maybe, but I swear, something’s up with Chat. I’m going to find his secret.”

Marinette silently prayed that Alya never would. Not even because of Hawkmoth. Oh no. It was because Marinette knew that if Alya ever did, Marinette would never hear the end of it.

23. Pillows and Blankets

“I want to take you out on an official date.”

Those had been the words that caused Marinette’s jaw to hit the floor. “What?”

Chat nodded. “You’re my girlfriend, bugaboo. Let me take you out on a date. Somewhere, anywhere. I don’t care. Just… let me have a date with you.”

Her cheeks flared, resulting in a muddled, stuttering Marinette. “Girlfriend,” she’d finally gotten out.

Chat gave an awkward half smile. “Well… yeah, I mean…” His cat ears quickly fell in worry. “Right?”

The ball was in her court and she was staring at it like she’d never seen it before. “Well,” she began. “I mean… yeah. Yeah, of course. I… I don’t know why you wouldn’t be at this point, you know…” Since I basically told you I wanted you.

Chat grinned, his posture relaxing as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Good. Good, I’m glad.”

She nodded, something giddy bubbling up inside her, too.

“So,” he continued, going back to nervousness. “Date?”

Why either one of them was as nervous as they were, Marinette had zero idea. They were both so strung up, like they hadn’t been flirty before or in compromising positions before or haven’t known each other for years.

This felt new in its entirety.

Which was why Marinette recommended the most simple thing she could think of.

“Movie in a blanket fort?”

Fast forward two days, and Marinette and Chat Noir were putting the finishing touches on the blanket fort they were building in Marinette’s room.

“I think it looks good.”

“Yeah. Same.”

They crawled inside, Chat grabbing the bag of take-out he had picked-up on his way here. It was just a couple pasta dishes, but Marinette could say they smelled delicious.

They started the movie sitting side by side as they ate their dinner, happily chatting through a couple scenes and swapping bites of their meal.

Once the dinner was finished, Chat sprawled out on his stomach. Marinette followed suit, but instead, laid on Chat’s back. “Is this uncomfortable?” she asked, her chin on his shoulder.

“No,” he said. “You’re pretty light.”

With a grin, she settled on him, making herself comfortable. It wasn’t until toward the end of the movie that she slid off Chat and maneuvered herself next to him. He was eager to shift an arm over her, now putting his chin on her shoulder.

Marinette grinned.

When the credits rolled, Chat hummed his approval. “Best date ever.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, plenty happy with her position. If she could, she’d curl up against his warmth and fall asleep. “Totally.”

He shifted so he could press a kiss to her hair. “Yeah. But if I were being honest, I’d say that about any date with you.”

She blushed. “Stop it.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his smile proving his words true. “Because I just like spending time with you. Period.”

She felt shy all of a sudden. “I like spending time with you, too.”

He grinned. “But,” he started, that grin growing wider and more cattish. “I have to know… since this date is nearly over… will it end with a kiss?”

A kiss. Marinette hadn’t really thought about it, but now that he said it, she wasn’t opposed to the idea. Before she knew it, before she could think to respond, she was shifting closer to him, angling her head so she could be able to press her lips to his. She was mere inches away from his face when he shifted, moving in the rest of the way to press his lips on hers.

Their movements were tentative, trying. It wasn’t easy, with both of them laying side by side on their stomachs, using their elbows to move into a somewhat comfortable position, and they gave up after a couple pecks.

Not that that didn’t completely ruin her forever. This was her boyfriend and future husband she was kissing. And he was a good kisser, particularly for being in such an awkward position.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” she agreed, just as quietly.

“Just… wow.”

Marinette giggled shyly.

Eventually, they were able to move, meaning Chat got up and offered to help put away the blanket fort, which Marinette quickly dismissed.

“It’s fine,” she said. “It will be easy to put away. Thank you for the food.”

“Thank you for tonight,” he returned. “Can we do this again?”

With a smile, Marinette nodded eagerly.

“Good,” he said. “Great.”

And that’s how they found themselves standing chest to chest, Chat staring at her lips while she was staring at his. Chat was the one that started leaning in this time, his lips aiming for hers.

That’s not to say she didn’t meet him in the middle.

Two, three, four kisses later, Chat pulled away. “I…” he said, his chest heaving despite their kisses being fairly tame. “I should go.”

“Oh… Okay.”

“Good night, Princess.”

“Good night, mon minou.”

Yet neither moved. Neither dropped the other’s hand. Neither took a step away.

Until they both moved closer to share another kiss.

And another after that.

And yet another.

 24. Nap Lap

Last year, had you told Marinette that having her boyfriend nap in her lap would become her new favorite thing, she probably would have spontaneously combusted at the image of Adrien having his head in her lap.

Now, she smiled fondly at the exhausted pile of kitty superhero sprawled out over her legs and on her lap.

She reached down to stroke the surprisingly soft ears pinned on Chat’s head. He’d always settle a little deeper into her lap at that, a smile growing across his face. But then she’d have to get the purrs going. Because the purring was her favorite part.

It took two weeks to know exactly how to start them up. But she found the secret formula.

First, is started with ear rubs. Ear rubs got him very relaxed and smiling in his sleep. Then, she had to run her hands through his hair, just for a little bit. That turned him to putty, easing out the tension from the rest of his body. And then the final touch would be to run her nails up and down his shoulders and by the third round of scratches, he was purring like crazy.

Her personal chainsaw, she referred to it as. He was loud as one, but it was soothing. She loved it.

She supposed it was just one of the many perks of having a superhero as a boyfriend.

[rulesofthebeneath]

masters of our fates- chapter 2

@ajaysbhandari @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @awkwardalbatros @ravenclawpokegirl25 @itsbrindleybinch

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706489/chapters/51862954

As soon as Ajay merged onto the highway, he pressed the button that turned on the radio. It was tuned to talk radio, but before Grace could side-eye him he quickly switched over to the CD player, which instantly started playing a song off the Wicked soundtrack. It was Grace’s turn to raise her eyebrows.

“You like musicals?” she asked.

“Love them,” he replied. He started humming along with the singers.

“Me too,” Grace admitted. “I cried the first time I saw Wicked.”

Ajay bit his lip. “Did you do theatre? Pre-diagnosis, I mean.”

“Oh, I was such a diva. There was no getting me out of the spotlight,” Grace recalled with a laugh. 

“I think I saw that part of you in support group,” Ajay said. “You were zoned out for most of it, but it seemed like whenever I said something you had to steal my spotlight.” He smiled so she’d know he was teasing, but she still felt a wave of insecurity go through her.

“Yeah, I… don’t know what that was all about. I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

Ajay shook his head. “No, don’t apologize. Sometimes I need to be put in my place.”

Grace snorted, but didn’t say anything further. They rode along, listening to the song, until the song switched, and Ajay apparently couldn’t contain himself to just humming anymore.

“One short day in the Emerald City…” he sang along with the chorus on the soundtrack. As soon as Grace turned to look at him, he raised his eyebrows: a clear invitation.

She rolled her eyes, but caved in.

“One short day in the Emerald City. One short day, full of so much to do,” she sang along shyly, fully aware that her weakened voice couldn’t compare with his, or with what he was used to hearing.

But he didn’t seem to care.

“Every way that you look in the city, there’s something exquisite you’ll want to visit before the day’s through,” he sang, his eyes trained on the road but a stunning grin spreading across his face. 

“There are buildings tall as Quoxwood trees,” Grace sang again, hesitantly.

“Dress salons,” Ajay added, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Libraries,” Grace half-laughed.

“Palaces!” Ajay squeaked, imitating Glinda’s peppy voice, and Grace lost the next line to a fit of giggles.

“There are wonders like I’ve never seen,” Ajay sang next, recovering more quickly than Grace could.

“It’s all grand,” sang Grace, her voice cracking on the top note. In the embarrassment, she lost her breath, and with it all focus on the singing.

Ajay noticed, and kept one eye on her careful breathing as he merged off the highway. He turned the music down, but not all the way off.

Grace tried to stop herself from audibly gasping for air, but it was a close thing. She didn’t want Ajay to see her like that, so weak.

Damn lungs, she thought to herself. Embarrassing her in front of somebody she found herself really wanting to impress, for some reason.

He pulled into the diner’s parking lot, and looked over at her. She could feel the concern in his gaze, and without looking at him, she waved him off while taking carefully controlled breaths from her cannula.

“I’m… fine… not… dying…” she said between breaths, and relief crossed Ajay’s face.

“Do you need anything? Um, water or something?”

He was clearly out of his depth.

“No… just… one… second…” Grace said, still wheezing slightly. She gripped the edge of the seat tightly as she tried to force the air into her lungs, tried to keep their pathetic wheezing and trembling to a minimum. It took her more than the one second she’d asked for, but eventually her lungs were back under autonomous control.

She sat up and saw Ajay looking at her, pity clear on his face.

“No,” she said, her voice embarrassingly faint but her will strong enough to make up for it. She cleared her throat. “No,” she said again. “None of that. Do you like it when people look at you like that when they find out about your leg?”

“I-- no,” Ajay conceded, shifting his gaze away from her. “I’m sorry. I was just worried.”

“I’m fine,” Grace said, her guard shooting back up. “No need to worry.”

“Okay.” With that, Ajay got out of the car. Grace followed suit, and the two walked into the diner and were seated as soon as they got there by an older lady. They each ordered hot tea and a stack of pancakes, and then Grace saw Ajay’s eyes fixed on her again.

“What?”

“Does that happen a lot?” he asked.

Grace sighed. “Not anymore. It used to happen a ton before I started taking the medicine I’m on now.”

“Oh,” he said. 

Grace looked down at her hands. She tried to figure out how to break the tension, but eventually it was Ajay speaking up again that did it.

“So, anyways. Grace. What’s your last name?”

It was clear he was just fishing around for something to say, but Grace decided to humor him.

“Lee,” she said. “Short and sweet. What’s yours?”

“Bhandari,” he said. “Neither short nor sweet. Do you have any siblings?”

“My twin brother goes to Berry,” she said. “He was running against Rory for student body president last year. Now he’s VP.”

“Oh, you’re James’ sister?” 

“Um. Yes?” she said, a question masking the surprise in her words. “How do you know my brother?”

“I don’t know him well, it’s just that I was Rory’s campaign manager,” he said. 

“Oh, so you’re who I have to thank for all the times he woke me up in the middle of the night to brainstorm campaign ideas.”

Ajay laughed. “Only if that means you’re who I have to thank for his pool noodle sword fight during Rory’s flash mob,”

Grace giggled. “Guilty as charged. Now, do you have any siblings?”

“My little brother, Mohit.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s eight.”

“Wow, that’s quite the age difference.”

“Yeah, really. Sometimes it almost feels like he’s my nephew or something, not my brother. I guess once we’re older it’ll stop feeling like that, but since I basically parented him most of last year…” he trailed off, a guarded look on his face. 

They sat in silence while Grace tried desperately to find something to ease the tension.

“Taking care of your brother and running a campaign during your junior year, sounds stressful,” she said with a half-hearted smile.

He loosened up a little.

“It was. I’m glad the school year is over, even though I really do like school. It was just hard to keep up with everything. Especially math.”

“You don’t like math?” Grace asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“More like math doesn’t like me,” Ajay mumbled, punctuating the sentence with a self-deprecating laugh.

It was a nice laugh.

Shut up, Grace told her brain.

“Enough about me,” Ajay said. “Tell me about you. What’s your story?”

Grace sighed.

“Well, I was diagnosed with stage four thyroid cancer when I was thirteen, and then–”

He cut her off. “No, no, not your Cancer Story. Just your normal story.”

“My normal story?”

“Yeah. Like where you were born, what your hopes and dreams are, your favorite color, things like that.”

Grace was bewildered. Nobody had asked her that in a while. Nowadays, they just saw her cannula and wanted to know why she had to use it. A warm, genuine smile grew on her face, and a giddy bubbly feeling rose up inside her.

“Uh, well, where do I start? I was born in England,” she said, watching his carefully neutral expression.

“England?” he asked, an eyebrow raised and a slight tinge of surprise. “I didn’t know you guys were British.”

“My parents aren’t, just me and James. Our birth parents died when we were really young and our other relatives gave us up for adoption.”

“Oh, you’re adopted. I guess that makes sense. I was about to say that you don’t have an accent at all.”

“Nope, no accent for me. I always kind of thought that would be cool to have a British accent.”

“You’d certainly be able to do a lot of Shakespeare,” Ajay remarked.

Grace nodded. “I never really got the hang of Shakespeare. Or British accents, for that matter.”

“It’s definitely hard to master. So, you said that you used to act?”

“Yes, and I was a complete spotlight hog,” Grace said. “You can ask Rory. I used to make James watch little plays that Rory and I wrote when we were kids. I don’t think they’ve ever forgotten the roles that I’d force them into.”

The waitress reappeared then, holding two plates of delicious-looking pancakes. Grace dug in eagerly, the hunger from not eating breakfast that morning overtaking her.

“So what about you?” Grace asked Ajay through a mouthful of pancakes. “What do you do? Besides hating math.”

“I’m actually the director of the shows we do at Berry,” he said, neatly cutting his pancakes into squares. “I’ve always loved directing, and it’s really great of the theatre teacher to let me have so much control over the productions. I do some directing outside of school, too.”

“Wait, you’re the Berry High student director?” Grace asked, surprised.

“Yeah?”

“So you’re the one who convinced the school to use the play as a fundraiser for Rory’s mom.”

Ajay started to look a little sheepish. “Yes, that was me.”

“Wow, Ajay,” Grace said, her admiration for him growing tenfold. “I don’t think I have to tell you how much that helped them.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, his face turning red. “I mean, obviously it was a big deal for the Silvas, but it was the least I could do. A family friend selflessly helped us out when I was first getting used to my new leg, so it was only fair to pass the kindness on.”

Grace cocked her head, studying him. His eyes were trained on the table, his hands busying themselves with the pancakes. It was clear that he hadn’t started the fundraiser so he could get recognition, but that he actually had genuinely wanted to help someone in need. 

You don’t see that much anymore, Grace thought. The world needs more people like that.

Ajay must have felt her eyes on him, so he looked up and matched her gaze at last.

“What?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Grace countered, a little embarrassed to have been caught staring. “You were staring at me during the whole meeting.”

“Ah, yes. Well at first it was because you were new, because I’ve never seen you in group before. Then by the end, it was because you’d challenged me and argued with me.”

“I’m still sorry about that.”

“I still don’t want you to be sorry about it,” Ajay said. “I like that. I like people who aren’t afraid of talking about the hard stuff.”

Grace shrugged. “Well, when you’ve been dying for three years straight, it’s hard to have a filter about stuff like death. Thinking about that stuff is as natural as a heartbeat for me.”

“Me too,” Ajay admitted, “but I think that’s less because of the cancer and more because I spent middle school stumbling around in a depressive haze.”

“That’s what I do now,” Grace said with a slight grin. “That’s why James told me to go get a life. He’s tired of me just sitting around the house binge-watching reality TV.”

“And your version of getting a life is hanging around some stuck-up director from support group?”

Grace rolled her eyes, casting her eyes around the diner as she tried to come up with a response. The only feeling she could register was nostalgia, as she took in the tiled floor, the old-fashioned booths and the jukebox in the corner. 

“God, I miss this place,” she said without thinking.

“Oh, I know,” Ajay replied, stopping to take a sip out of his mug. “I think the old owners sold it a few years ago, and it just doesn’t quite have its old charm anymore.”

That’s my fault, Grace thought, and she bit her lip. She was the reason her parents had sold the diner, maybe even the reason they weren’t happy anymore. They tried to hide it from her, but she saw how exhausted her dad was after those long shifts. She saw the circles under her mom’s eyes that never went away.

She snapped back into the present and Ajay’s eyes were on her. He looked concerned, and she realized that he must have said something to her.

“Um…” she said, not knowing how to reply. 

“Nevermind,” Ajay said, shaking his head. 

Grace smiled shyly, appreciating the out. “So, should we split the check?”

“That seems fair,” Ajay agreed. The two examined the bill and paid for their respective parts at the register, and then before they knew it, they were back out in the oppressively hot afternoon.

Grace looked down at her hands. “I don’t want to go home yet,” she said. 

Ajay laughed. “Enjoying my company too much?”

“Enjoying the sunshine too much. I haven’t been outside in weeks.”

“Well, then I know where we have to go!” Ajay said, leading Grace towards his car.

She got in. “Is it the park?” she asked.

“I can’t share all my secrets,” he said again, causing Grace to roll her eyes.

A few minutes later, Ajay parked his car in a lot riddled with fallen twigs and green leaves.

“You brought me to the park,” Grace deadpanned.

“You wanted more sunshine,” Ajay pointed out. “I’m just trying to fulfill your request.”

Grace sighed and made for the park’s entrance, Ajay trailing behind her.

“So what was that? At the diner?”

“It was nothing.”

“It clearly wasn’t nothing,” Ajay argued back, cornering Grace in the conversation.

“I’ve already told you too much about myself.”

“That’s not true at all. Only once in our hour-long conversation did I see anything resembling an emotion.”

“Oh? When was that? You’ll have to tell me so I don’t do it again.”

Grace beelined for a bench, the small amount of walking having already exhausted her. Once she reached it, she tried not to collapse. Ajay sat down next to her, his eyes on her, his expression expectant. She knew exactly what he wanted to hear.

“My parents were the old owners of the Golden Griddle,” she said quietly. “They gave it up because they couldn’t afford both me and the restaurateur lifestyle.”

“Shit,” Ajay cursed quietly. “That’s… shit.”

“Yeah,” Grace said. “I took away their dreams. If I’d just died, yknow…”

“They’d have missed you,” Ajay said, and Grace had to admit he made a good point. But she wasn’t going to let him have that.

“They’d have gotten over it,” she said, and Ajay didn’t look like he had a response to that, so the conversation lapsed into silence.

“My parents are divorced,” he offered, out of the blue. “I know it’s because of me, even though they say it’s not.”

“Ajay, I’m sure it’s not--”

“It was because they were always arguing about money,” he said, cutting her off. “My chemo, radiation, surgeries and the new leg must’ve cost… I don’t even know.”

Grace pressed her lips together; it was her turn to not know what to say. She wrung her hands together, silent until he decided to speak again.

“So not only did I ruin their marriage, I also completely ruined Mohit’s life. He should be able to grow up with both his parents, but instead he only sees Dad on weekends. Objectively, I caused that to happen.”

“You can’t control the fact that you had cancer, though,” Grace pointed out. “And you can’t control the fact that the treatments cost a lot.”

“I should never have complained about my knee,” he said with a laugh. “That’s what got us into this mess. I should’ve just shut up about it.”

 “You would’ve died,” Grace said, slowly realizing how much she didn’t want that to happen.

Ajay shrugged. “And saved them a ton of medical expenses.”

“But if you’d died, it would’ve hurt Mohit. He’s so young, it wouldn’t be fair to put him through that.”

“You can’t say your family would get over your death and then turn around and say that to me, though. It’s the same thing. If my death would hurt my brother, your death would hurt your brother just as much.”

Grace huffed. “I guess. Sometimes I think, though, maybe it would’ve been better if I’d died a year or so ago. Before they got me into the clinical trial I’m on. They’re still paying a ton for my medication, and I’m still not getting any better. It seems like a waste of time and money because I’m still going to die young anyway.”

It took Ajay a few minutes to come up with a reply, but when he did, Grace almost smiled. Before long she found herself lost in the conversation, which jumped from morose topic to morose topic. By the time the sun set hours later, still sitting beside Ajay on the wooden park bench, she had gotten a little lost in him too.

It was freeing for a moment-- to do all those things normal teenagers did, get crushes and have friends and go out to the park-- until reality came crashing back to her. This was only temporary. She was just living on borrowed time, until her miracle drug stopped working, until the cancer spread to her brain and made her into a zombie. She couldn’t do that to him. But damn, having let her walls down for the first time was such a rush. Over the course of their conversation, she’d never felt so understood.

But he wasn’t dying, and she was. That was something that would always strain their relationship. So Grace turned it off. She shut down that part of her brain that made her want to giggle when he looked at her, that made her desperately want to reach out and put her hand on top of his.

“I have to get home,” she said abruptly. Ajay looked surprised, but he didn’t say anything until they’d gotten to the car. Grace walked a little slower than usual, under the excuse of being tired, but she really wanted to draw the night out longer, the one night where she had felt normal.

“At least give me your number,” he said. “It was nice to talk to someone who gets it. I don’t really talk to many other survivors, and it was a good conversation.”

Grace decided she’d allow herself that. A shining chance at feeling normal again. And if she was completely honest with herself, she couldn’t turn down the opportunity to talk to him again.

“Ok, fine, give me your phone.”

When he smiled, her dimmed world lit up just a little, but she ignored the way her heart skipped a beat. There wasn’t time for that.

By the time he pulled up at her house, though, her thoughts were pitch black again, so she had to shut them all out. It was her best coping strategy, a suit of armour to shield her from the gnawing pain the words could cause.

“Goodnight, Grace,” Ajay said, but she could barely hear him. 

“Goodnight,” she forced herself to say, and then she went into her house. Not having the energy to talk to her parents or James, she just forced a sleepy smile, told them she was tired, and headed off to her room. She locked the door, turned all the lights off, changed out her oxygen canister to one that would let her make it through the night, and tried not to think.