#but yeah push the right button and he'll probably snap.

[underground-boss-clay]

📀

"Mr. Erden, someone is here to speak with you."

He doesn't even look up to find the button and answer. "I ain't available right now Denise. Jus' tell them to come by another time."

"Sir. She isn't taking no for an answer."

Ah hell... His head snaps up from being cradled in his free hand. Now that he's struggling to hear for it, he can: the receptionist's voice, tired yet still wry, and... Hers. Song like, emotional, and getting louder by the minute. He's on autopilot, pushing away from his desk with both hands to stand up, willing any of this to just not happen--

But whether he wants to or not, she's letting herself in. Her hair isn't done in its usual braid this time, instead flowing freely behind her like storm clouds. It's absent of the little flowers she usually adorns it with too; did she forget or just not have the time to-?

But she doesn't give him enough time to think on it, pale green dress billowing as she strides over to his desk and slams something down on it, a few pencils rolling off from the impact.

"That." The song like tones in her voice are harsh, the usual softness sharp and she almost sounds pained as she looks from the papers in her hand to him. "Was not six months."

"Don't always take that long hun." The endearment is out of his mouth before he can stop it, and it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. She feels it too, he can tell from how she flinches. "Dependin' on who ya got, it can be sooner. I thought ya knew that when ya agreed to-"

"I didn't think it would be this soon!" The papers are slammed down again. Something else falls off the desk, but he doesn't pay mind to it. "Clay. It's hardly been five months, I-I thought we had time to talk about it!!"

"And I thought we did," he points out. Rather than just stand there, watching her get more and more upset, he crouches down to pick up the odds and ends from the floor. "Ya came in after Sigmund was sent to the Detention Center, furious as Giratina itself-"

"That wasn't talking, and yo-" she shuts her eyes, taking a breath, "-we both know that. I was--I was hoping we could talk more, after having some time apart. Think about this more clearly."

"Yeah. An' this is probably the clearest I've been thinkin' in a while." He stands back up: the pens go in the pencil holder, but the rock samples are just dumped in a drawer for now. They're in varying degrees of broken that he'll have to worry about later. Not now. "Face it, we've been tryin' ta keep this marriage together and not only failin', but we didn't even realize what was goin' on with Sigmund till it was too late!"

Her mouth snaps shut at that, eyes blinking repeatedly in that way he knows she does when trying not to cry.

"A-are you..." Another breath from her, shaky this time. "How... How long has it... Felt like this for you?"

"Long enough. And I know it's similar for you too."

"You don't know-"

"Celia, name one reason ta stay married to me. Right now. And don't say money, we both know ya ain't that shallow."

When they were younger, years ago with more love and less worries, that last part would draw laughter, maybe a playful punch in the shoulder. But now there's just silence. Cold, ringing, and truthful. And seeing the tears welling up in her eyes is the last straw as he sits back down and hangs his head.

"I'm sorry." It's all he can think of to say; it's all he really can say. The silence stretches until something clicks against his desk, a quiet noise he nearly misses. Looking up, he can see her tears are flowing freely as she looks, first at the amber hairpiece, then to him.

"I am too." And she leaves, shoes hardly making a sound. He doesn't move until the door clicks shut behind her; even when it does he doesn't fully register what he's doing until the piece of amber has already been thrown, hitting something framed on the wall and shattering the glass.

[thyfatedenemy]

So hear me out, Obey me boys with an mc who acts like a extremely mean and rude. But that’s just their defense mechanism and their actually a really sweet person who just looks intimating and isn’t that good at communicating.

Notes: Not proofread, little bit of spoiler warning on Belphie's part (about the attic thing). Also this is like the first request I've EVER done so uhh, hope you like it!

Characters: Gender Neutral Mc, all the demon brothers

Lucifer

I feel like he'd sorta just... know somethings up.

Like Lucifer's old, he's dealt with many, many people, and even more demons, so he knows when someone's being an ass just for the sake of being an ass.

Both incredably annoyed and intrigued.

Mc talked back to him.

On the other hand, Mc talked back to him.

Bites back just as much at first. Insults them but in a very classy sort of way.

When he finds out about the sweeter side, he's not too suprised.

Saw it coming. May tease Mc about it.

However now there's a different tone to his voice.

He's not trying to tear Mc apart with honeyed words, instead he's teasing them in a friendly manner.

Mammon

Entirely depends on HOW they're mean

Because if Mc insult him or his brothers? Yeah he's not too happy.

If Mc insults him too much and digs deep, he'd probably start to avoid them. He already has his brothers his back for the smallest things, he doesn't need another one on there too, y'know?

But Mam's also seems to forgive rather quickly, so when Mc starts to show a sweeter side? He's on board again.

Wants to see more of the side that's not mean to him.

Please... don't be mean to him, neither him nor I can take it

However if Mc's an ass to random demons? He doesn't care, but sorta does.

He doesn't care someone rando's feelings got hurt.

However he's very worried about Mc.

Please, don't pick fight with demons, he'll get stressed.

Leviathan

Yeah

No ❤

Don't be mean to him it does not end well.

Either he just gets even more insecurities, or if they push the right buttons, he might snap and try to kill them again.

Even with the sweeter side, he's suspicious.

Surely, this can't be the ACTUAL Mc? No, no, they're just trying to make him trust them, lower his guard so they can find even more things to be mean about.

It'd take him a while to actually trust Mc, even then there's a constant suspicion that Mc will turn on him eventually.

Satan

Dude gets them

He senses the wrath that bubbles form both the past and present.

Understanding, however doesn't let you get away with insults, as meaningless as they may be.

Will bite back alot when he doesn't really know them, but as he gets closer to Mc, he doesn't insult them as much, rather focuses on helping them get their feelings out, helping them deal with their anger.

He spent eons as nothing but hatered, he knows how to tame it, and he'll help Mc tame their anger too.

Asmo

Dude just... he doesn't care. Like at all.

He just brushes off any insults and doesn't take any of it seriously.

I mean, they can't ACTUALLY hate him, right?

Right.

The MOMENT they show a softer side, he's just "oh I knew it!! Deep down you really do love me, don't you?"

Please say yes.

He will use the puppy eyes on Mc till they say yes.

Dude dealt with Satan when he was new, he can deal with Mc as well.

Beel

Look as long as they're not talking shit about his family, they're good.

Actually to a degree they can get away with talking shit about Mammon.

Mc can be as mean as they want, but Beel doesn't care.

He shrugs it off and just eats his potato chips.

At the sight of a softer side, he just shrughs and says "aight cool"

He doesn't trust Mc very quickly, but he soon sees their true colors and determines that the softer side is actually Mc, and the meaness is just a shield, and bam, a bond is forged.

He sorta gets it, he too looks intimidating, so they can be scary buddies together.

Everyone in school is terrified to be near the two of them❤

Belphie

Wants them dead even more now❤

But the question is if Mc would help a stranger that lied to them, a stranger who seemingly hates every single human?

I'm going off a limb and saying no.

However, if Mc is distrustful and doesn't help Belphie? Rip to him I guess.

He'd probably be stuck in the attic till the exchange program ends.

But hey maybe he won't kill off all of humanity once he learns about Mc's heritage? Maybe? Hopefully?

If Mc ends up helping Belphie, he has a hard time keeping his mouth shut and not snapping at them. But alas this is probably his only ticket out, at least till the exchange program ends so he can't be too rude, y'know?

This Mc he'd kill pretty quickly, quite frankly too pissed off by them to even brag about his victory.

[meenah-chan]

A Smear of Blood

A Mammon x F! MC fanfiction

Genre: Angst

1.38k words

Trigger Warning: Lots of blood, mention of death & violence. Read at your own discretion.

You two were just sleeping together in your room. It's the same old night. Yet for some reason, when he woke up that day, the one beside him is not you, but a smear of blood.

Everytime he wokes up he will usually see you still asleep in his arms. Or sometimes you staring at his sleeping face, which never fails to send his visage into flaring.

But that morning is different. The space beside him is empty.

He shouldn't be thinking of it as you may only be doing your business in the bathroom.

But no...

That morning is different. When he lifted the blanket covering him and the space beside him, an ample amount of blood, as large as his two stretched palms, spreads across the sheet.

His mind went blank for a second. He froze, sitting on his spot as if time went on a total halt. His own blood drains from his face. And in an instant, everything came back, rushing through his veins. Thousands of thoughts he never wished to have invaded his senses.

Did something happened last night? Did someone attacked her? Is it a grudge towards his human? No, there's no way that's possible. She's way too kind for anyone to held any ill intent towards herself. Is it because she is a rare, appetizing human? Or maybe the monster want to settle past misdeed he committed and chose to attack the most important person in his life?

No, he should have felt any danger if that's the case... Or... Could he?

Mammon is one of the strongest in the Devildom. He also have been alive for who knows how long. He barely experienced some lesser demons attack him in his sleep, much less in the House of Lamentation.

No. No one aimed for his head in his own abode. Entering the den of the most monstrous beasts in the Devildom is a suicide for any assassins to test their luck.

It doesn't make sense! It doesn't...

Yet... That blood... That metallic scent invading his sense smell right now... He'd be dumb if he could ever forget such scent. He knew it so well. Why does he knew it so well? Of course he...

The image of that day flashed through his mind and he never knew his heart would sink deeper than it already has. The image of her lifeless body in his arms, soaked with her own blood and bruises. Limp. Breathless. Cold. Too cold. With her lifelessly gentle eyes staring at his useless self, who couldn't do anything to protect her. It's too late. His tears and screams won't bring what she have lost.

His loss. He lost her once already and swears he'll protect her this time around. He'll protect her with his life. He'll... Protect her?

A lightning strucks his system as he force his stiff limbs to motion. He wants to scream but a lump in his throat blocks all the sound he want to gouge out.

He flails out of the bed. He reach for the knob only for it to move a few feet away from him and his hand.

When he raised his unfocused eyes to the person who opened the door, he gasps for air he didn't knew he's been holding.

"Ahh. You're... Awake." His human peeked inside the room for a second. "And you saw that..." She sighed.

But the demon stood there motionless. He scans her with his eyes for any visible wound and blood stains. Any trace of blood on her. Yet he saw nothing but her sweaty self gasping for air, holding what seems to be a comforter.

"...mon... Mammon? You don't look so good." A touch of her warm fingertips is enough to push his last button to tears, which he did. "M–Mammon?! W–Wha, H–Hey!" Tears streams down like falls on his cheeks to the back of her hands as she held his face.

"What... the hell..." They both melted to their knees as Mammon start sobbing. "Hey, Mammo—" her palms slid past his slippery wet cheeks as he pulls her to tight embrace.

"'Ya idiot... human... Ye're killin' me." He whimpered in a muffled voice, face buried on the crook of her neck.

His words snapped all the dots connected in her head of what is actually happening. It probably is because of that incident. The day she died... or atleast her other self. It was a sight, to see herself bathing in a pool of blood, as if it was a different person. It was a sight, really. But it was not the one that sparked her emotion. It was the demon that held her so tight as if she'll slipped away from his grasp. It was Mammon.

She couldn't really comprehend what happened when she was attacked by the youngest brother. She was stranggled, passed out and woke up under the staircase.

It never left a mark on her. She held no ill will towards him. But as the demon with the strongest bond with her, Mammon, was so devastated that time. He cling onto her. He wail with his futile pleads for her to hang on. To not die.

Seeing him like that made her regret the event she have no way of ever predicting. The event she have no control of.

The only thing she could do is to protect him from the ghost of the past. She have to give reassurance to the second oldest— her first demon.

So she hugged him back as firm as he did, caressing his hair lovingly. "There, there... I'm here. Everything's going to be alright."

He squeeze her tighter she could hardly breathe. But even if it's hard, she let him because right now, she could finally feel the grip her other self felt that time. She's be lying if she said she didn't felt a hint of jealousy oozing out within her that time. "Don't you dare leave me like that ever again."

"I won't. I'll be with you as long as it takes. This won't happen again."

She gave him featherlight kisses that soothes his pain. A gentle yet firm embrace to gave him assurance and warmth. And within a few moments, Mammon pulled himself back, his eyes and cheeks dusted with shades of red.

"But wait... Are you really not hurt or something?" The white-haired demon close his eyes as she wipes his tears with her thumb.

"You wanna check with your own eyes?" She smirks and wiggle her brows at him, earning a darker flush on his tan face.

"Then what the hell's with the sheet? That isn't your blood, right?" Now it's her turn to blush.

"Uh... Can we just forget that..." Azure orbs glare through her soul. "... or maybe not." She nervously laugh while evading the piercing looks towards her.

"Ugh... This is embarrassing. How should I put this..." She scratch her nape as she search for the right words. "Well, it is mine." Mammon's eyes widen and without hesitation, he lift her shirt and frantically check her torso.

"H–Hey! Sto– Wait! I'm not hurt! That time of the month just came a bit too early is all!" She hastily pulled the hem of her shirt off his grip and down.

"W–What time?" He stares at her, confusion and worry evident on his expression.

"I'm on my period, okay. I woke up with it staining the covers. I panicked and run out after changing to search for a replacement. And yeah, I was late." She pat the sheet on her side. "You saw it before I arrive." She look down to hide her flustered face.

"... Seriously..." Mammon's forehead drops to her shoulder.

After a few seconds, he cups her face and face her to him. "Why'd'ya have ta hide it? And from the Great Mammon? Really?"

"Well, it's embarrassing you know..." She pouts.

"Like hell it's embarrassing. It's normal. It's a part of being a woman. If somethin' like this happen, don't hesitate to ask for the Great Mammon's help... Well it's not like I'm worried or anything. I just wanna help ya. Ye're my human after all." He squishes her face as he grin from ear to ear tinted with pink.

"Yes, my tsundere demon." She also smiled like he did as she held the hands on her cheeks.

"Huh?! Who're ya callin–" he protested, only to be silenced with a peck on the tip of his nose.

"I love you, my Great Mammon."

I was too hyped yesterday I just finished 2 fanfics. That OM! anime announcement left me on edge.

And to anyone waiting for my series Quintessence, I'm on it hahaha 😅😂 I'm torn between two twist and still can't decide but I'll surely post it as soon as I finished it. Please bear with me for the last 2 chapters.

P. S. To anyone who watch BL Romance and haven't seen Given yet, I highly recommend it! A real tear-jerker with amazing plot and masterpiece songs 😭💖💖 I won't go with details but there's something really unique with it and you wont regret watching it sksksk 😚😚

Masterlist

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 02 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

<- Previous part (01)

Next part (03) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

Car Trouble

“Are you having car trouble?” Billy asks, his eyes locked on yours.

“Judging by the smoke, yeah.” You sigh, opening the door and stepping out of the car. You avoid eye contact, looking at the light gray smoke instead.

“Pop the hood, let me check.” Doing as he says, you press the button as you sit back on the driver's seat, hoping he can actually fix whatever is wrong just so you can make it home. “Bad news.” He says after a couple of minutes.” There's nothing I can do. Not here, at least.”

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.” He lets the hood fall before coming to stand by the door. “Didn't it give any signs something was wrong?”

“It has been making this funny noise since I bought it. But that was a month ago, I didn't think it would actually stop working.” Taking a deep breath, you take your bag and get out, closing the door. “I'll call the mechanics when I get home. Thanks for checking it out.” You wave at him, walking away.

“I could give you a ride home if you want.”

“I'm alright. Don't want to be a bother.”

“I wouldn't offer you a ride if you were a bother. C'mon, I'm just trying to help a co-worker.”

You stop, turning to face Billy. He doesn't have to usual cocky expression he always has. And he's right. He's just offering a ride home because your car is broken, there's nothing more. Monica and those girls are just getting under your skin, making you think too much about something that doesn't deserve much thought. “Ok then.”

“Let's go.” Billy guides you to his Camaro and you get into the passenger seat. Seconds later you're spending up through the streets, and you buckle up because he's going a little too fast for your taste. You give him your address, not really paying attention to the route he's taking. Your eyes are on the landscape outside the window, passing by in a blur.

“Do you mind if I stop to get some tacos before dropping you off?”

“No.” Shrugging your shoulders, you run a hand through your hair as he parks in a small restaurant and gets out to buy his food. As you wait, you wonder if you should tell Monica about this. If you do, you probably won't hear the end of it. But it could also snap her out of this whole mission thing. Today she was silent again, overanalyzing Billy instead of watching the pools. At least she seems to be excited about something.

A whistle gets your attention, dragging you out of your thoughts. It's Billy at the restaurant's door, gesturing for you to go there. You're a little confused when you leave the car. Did he make the order and then realized he forgot his wallet or something?

“What's up?” You ask him, crossing your arms.

“Nothing. C'mon.” Billy guides you to a table on the back, where he sits. “I ordered you some tacos too.”

What the hell. “Do you even know if I have money with me? You should've asked.”

“But I didn't, did I?” He raises an eyebrow.

Taking a deep breath, you decide not to make a big deal out of it. “Whatever,” you mumble, sitting down across from him. It's so damn obvious he's staring now. He doesn't even try to hide it. Since you're here, you could try to put a stop to this nonsense. Sorry, Mon. Your mission will be over soon. “What are you looking at?” You ask, elbows on the table, finally meeting his gaze.

“You.” He simply says, and there's no hint he'll give further explanation.

You were just about to say something when the waitress comes with your tacos. They do look good, and you're a little hungry.

“I'll get something to drink. What do you want?”

“Ice cold Coca-Cola,” you answer, watching as he gets up. You don't wait for him to come back, you just start eating. The last time you ate tacos you were in elementary school.

“Here's your drink.” He places the can down and you open it, taking a sip. “So, new girl... How do you like this dipshit place?”

“I really like it. Hawkins is exactly what I was looking for.” Billy seems a little surprised, raising his eyebrows. “What? Did you think I was dragged here? I wanted to come.”

“Can't understand why anyone would want to live here.”

“I had my reasons.” Shrugging your shoulders, a loud laugh gets your attention. It's a girl you see often in the pool. She's friends with one of those girls from the locker... The girls who were talking about Billy. “Hey. Don't you have a date today? With that Jennifer girl?” It comes back to your mind, and you burst it out. “Let's go, I can take these and eat at home.” The last thing you want is Billy being mad because giving you a ride kept him from meeting some girl. So you get up, taking the plate and the can.

“Where are you going?”

“...Home? You're taking me home now so you won't be late to be with the girl.” Why do you have to state the obvious? You doubt he'd forget about a date.

“I am with a girl. Now sit down and relax.”

If this day gets any weirder, you're calling it a night and going back home immediately. “Fine. It's your night you're ruining.” You sit back down, defeated.

“Who said my night is ruined?”

“Billy...” Leaning forward, you look into his eyes. “Whatever you're trying here, it won't work.”

“I'm not trying anything.”

Alright. Time to end this game. “I'm not the kind of girl you hang out with, ok? Put your efforts on someone hot and beautiful, don't waste your time with me.” You take another bite of the taco on your plate.

“Wait. You don't think you're hot and beautiful?” He leans forward too, pushing his empty plate away, eyes on you.

He totally got the wrong part of what you said. “I'm... Ok. I'm cute but you can aim so much higher than me.” You're not blind, so you're not immune to Billy's effect. You have to admit you stole a few glances on your first days working on the pool, but knowing his reputation, you'd never let it go further than finding him handsome. “But they say beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, so...” You're done with the tacos, and you drink what's left of your Coca-Cola.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes then.” Billy lowers his voice, the smirk leaving his lips as if this statement is the most important thing in the world, a fact on which the whole Earth stands.

You gasp, giggling a little. “So that's how you do it. That's what you say to get your girls.”

“No. I say very different things.” The smirk is back, and you look away for a moment. You really hope you're not blushing.

“We're both done eating. Can we go now?”

“I haven't finished my drink yet.” He gestures at is can. “You don't need to leave your guard up all the time. We're just... Two friends hanging out. No big deal.”

“So we're friends now?” He simply nods. “You don't even speak to me at work, how can we be friends?”

“I'll change that, don't worry. You don't seem to have many friends, anyway.”

“I do. Monica and her little crew.” It's actually mostly just Monica, but he doesn't have to know that. “They're nice.”

“Well, you can just add me to your list of new friends then.” Billy smiles at you, and now that you get to see it, from up close, it's so damn beautiful. There's a secret behind it, something he's hiding, and it looks like he knows you're aware of that. “What do you say?” He reaches out his hand over the table. “Try to get to know me instead of judging by what you heard.”

You hesitate for a while before shaking his hand. You won't fall for his game, so there's no problem befriending the guy. And you must admit it's a little mean to judge someone by what people say. You rather judge him by his actions. “Fine, Billy Hargrove. We can try to be friends. But that's it. Nothing else.”

“Good.”

You stay at the restaurant for another hour before he finally takes you home. Your aunt is organizing some papers, so she doesn't make many questions. She's just happy you were out with someone. And you don't really give much thought to what happened. You actually had some fun today, and since you're still struggling to fit in, you're in no position to refuse any friendship you can get.

And it was kind of Billy to offer you a ride home. You're so attached to everything you heard of him that you didn't even felt thankful for his help. If he was the asshole people say he is, he'd just leave you in the parking lot, or take you straight home. But he didn't. Billy even paid for the tacos. It's mean of you to judge the guy so harshly, before exchanging any words with him. He does sleep with a different girl every night, but they go out with him because they want to. They know he won't stick to them. But this is just something he enjoys, it doesn't mean he's a total jerk. Right? Jennifer and her friend seemed okay with a one night stand, so it's obvious he's not forcing them into it. They know it's a one-time thing.

So if you take this part away, you're left with a normal guy. So, if he's not trying to make you fall on his game, maybe his intentions aren't what you think they are. It's harmless to try and get to know him. Maybe he can become a good friend, who knows?

During the next day in the pool, you're still thinking about it. You don't really understand why you're feeling a little guilty for thinking so low of Billy. So, as you're walking back to your post and Billy is coming from his chair, to take his lunch break, you decided to talk to him.

“Billy, can I talk to you for a sec?” You say when you're close enough.

“Of course. C'mon.” He tilts his head, gesturing for you to with him back into the cafeteria. You were just going to say it right here, but since he's already walking, you just follow him. Monica gives you a meaningful stare once she notices you're following Billy. But you shake your head no, trying to tell her this is nothing.

“I'll be quick. I have to get back to my chair.” You say as he sits down on the table. “I just wanted to say thank you for yesterday. For the ride home and for the snack you bought me.”

“That's it?” He seems genuinely confused.

“Yeah...” You stand there awkwardly, watching as his lips break into a smile.

“What happened to your car?”

“It'll be ready in two days. Mon is giving me a ride until then.” Shrugging your shoulders, you start making your way out. “Well, that's it. I gotta go.”

“Keep doing the good job.” He winks at you, and you can't hold back the smile that comes to your lips.

“I will.” Turning your back at him, you go back to your chair.

•••

By the end of the day, you're sitting shotgun in Monica's car, the windows opens to let the fresh wind come in.

“I have great news.” She says, smiling.

“Let's hear it.”

“Jennifer was super mad today. Now guess why.” You exchange a glance as you think if you should tell her or not. But she's so excited about it, and Jennifer has always been mean to her... So you decide to just say it.

“Because my car wouldn't start, so Billy offered a ride home. And in the process, he stopped by this restaurant and bought me tacos.” She hits the breaks so suddenly that your heart skips a beat. “Holy shit, Monica! Are you trying to get us killed?”

“What did you just say, (Y/N)?” She's dead serious, looking at you. “Explain it. And don't hold back the details.”

She drives slower, just to give you more time. She forces you to remember everything he said, and everything you said, overanalyzing every single word. She doesn't seem too convinced that Billy just wants to be friends, going on about how he looks at you. With affection, admiration. But you don't really believe that.

“Just the fact that he was straight forward with wanting to be your friends is impressive. You gotta understand this is not usual of Billy.” She says as you walk into your house since you invited her to stay for dinner. “Believe me, I know. I wouldn't be talking about Billy with you if I wasn't utterly perplexed.”

“Who's Billy?" Your aunt asks, coming from the kitchen, an amused smile on her face.

“Good evening, Mrs. Florence," Monica says, matching your aunt's tone.

“Call me Diane, dear. And tell me about this Billy.”

“He's just a friend, aunt. He gave me a ride home yesterday.” You and Monica follow her into the kitchen, sitting on the table.

“Yesterday? You came home late yesterday.” She rests her back on the counter, looking at you. You feel like you were busted doing something wrong.

“He wanted to eat tacos so since I was with him, we just stopped by a small restaurant at the side of the road.” Shrugging your shoulders, you try to act casual. But why are you trying to act casual? It was a casual meeting.

“Did he pay?”

“Yes, but–”

“Then it was a date,” Diane states before turning around, her attention back to her current task.

You feel your cheeks burning as you exchange a glance with a smirking Monica. “It wasn't a date.” You have no idea how you could make this more clear than that. “If it was a date he would have kissed me goodnight.” You use the cliche every romance movie implements, trying to change their minds. “If that doesn't happen, it's not a date.”

“Well, say whatever you want. But tomorrow you'll be going out with me and the guys. No Billy.” Monica says, gesturing at you.

Whatever. You don't have to explain anything, and time will show them there's nothing between you and Billy. “Count me in,” you tell her, looking down at your hands for a moment. It will be good. No Billy, nobody talking about Billy for a change. It's your second week here, and it feels like it's all been about him from the start. You can't wait until people realize that everything that's ever gonna happens, if it happens, is just a friendship. Nothing more.

[farfromsugafanfic]

Sutures - Chapter Eight: Bypass

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): angst, invasions of privacy and personal space

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

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You awoke with a pounding headache. Looking down at your phone, you noticed the reason why: around 10 text messages from Namjoon. 

Most of them were just general greetings or texts to wake you up, but one of them piqued your interest. 

Namjoon (6:50 am): I would come wake you up, but I think Yoongi is going through something related to the whole soulmate thing. I don't want it to hurt if I touch you.

Did it hurt for other people to touch Yoongi? Even in innocent ways? You felt guilt run down your spine, despite knowing it wasn't your fault. It made you wonder if it was related to the fact that you felt safest when you were in his arms, no one else could compare.

You sent him a quick text to let him know you were awake, before rubbing your temples and rubbing your eyes. You pulled your hair into a ponytail and changed into a simple pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Normally, on a flight, you wore sweats or leggings, but because you were bound to run into paparazzi, you wanted to look at least presentable.

You already felt your stomach turning. You hadn't been on a plane for two years--since you last visited your family in the US--and you remembered the way your heart beat out of your chest at take off and you were convinced you would never touch the ground.

When you finally emerged from your room, you found the members waiting in the living room. All but one set of eyes darted to you when you walked into the room, Yoongi appeared immersed in his phone. 

"Hey Sumi," Jimin said. "I saved you a banana." 

"Oh, that's sweet, Jimin," you said. "But, I'm not really hungry." 

Yoongi's eyes were on you now. You felt as his eyes took in your face: still red eyes, bare skin, and the baby hairs that curled around your ears. You forced yourself not to look in his direction, despite everything telling you to meet his eyes. Even your neck ached as you kept yourself from turning it. 

"Are you sure?" Jimin asked. 

"Yeah, honestly, don't worry about it." 

---

"All right, the members will all go through the main entrance," their manager explained. "Fans and reporters are already waiting, so as soon as BTS is out. We will drive around and--Sumi--you will go through the side entrance. Hopefully, this will prevent too much issue and we and we can all get on the plane without too much hassle."

Everyone nodded, but you still felt doubt in the pit of your stomach. You watched as the van approached the main airport entrance. The screams were louder than the radio and nearly deafening as the van came to a stop. 

Despite the tinted windows, you still ducked down behind the seat and waited as the members climbed out. Screams and camera flashes were all you could hear and you were thankful that you weren't the one facing the crowd. Yet, your heart still panged as you thought about the members essentially distracting everyone so you could get through without being swamped. 

"We have a bodyguard for you," Se-jin, the band's manager said. "If anything happens, he'll make sure you get through the crowd and onto the plane. Everyone is already pre-checked, so you should be able to pretty much walk on the plane." 

You nodded, clasping your passport and ticket tightly in your hand. The van stopped at the side entrance and you climbed out. No one was outside of it, except for airport security, so you rushed to grab your suitcase and head inside the airport. 

"Good luck," Se-jin said, giving you a sympathetic look as you approached the entrance. 

You walked through the door and they came out of nowhere. Paparazzi mostly, their cameras blinding you as you attempted to move forward. 

"Sumi! Is it true you cheated on Park Minki?" 

"Do you really love Yoongi?" 

"Sumi! Look here!" 

"Sumi, talk to us!" 

The whirlwind of flashes and yells were too much for your headache and you closed your eyes for just a moment. When you opened them, you felt yourself colliding with another figure, your shoulder slamming into their bicep, which resulted in hot coffee on your white T-shirt. 

"I'm so sorry, Sumi," the figure said. 

You turned to look at them, only to have a camera snapped in your face. Blinded, you turned around and stumbled towards where you remembered the security clearance to be. You felt someone grab your arm lightly and looked up to see the bodyguard they'd assigned you leading you through the mess. 

---

"What happened?" Namjoon asked as the bodyguard ushered you through the first class curtain and into your seat. 

"Paparazzi spilled coffee on her so he could get a shot," the bodyguard said, standing at the doorway of first class and watching as you sat down in the window seat next to Taehyung. 

"Sumi, are--?"

Taehyung was interrupted by the intercom and the captain telling everyone to buckle in and stay in the seats as the plane prepared to take off. 

Your heart was already beating so quickly it almost felt like when you and Yoongi were separated the morning you found out he was your soulmate. You thought you were dying as your heart beat so quickly. 

You closed your eyes and took a breath as the plane engine rumbled behind you and the plane began accelerating down the runaway. 

“Tae," you said, your voice sounded desperate and as if you were about to cry. "C-Can you hold my hand? Just until the seatbelt sign is off?"

Taehyung didn't respond, but took hold of your hand and intertwined your fingers. You sat for a few seconds as the plane jolted into the air. 

"Ah!" Tae pulled his hand away. His palm was red and his hand shook in shock. You reached to examine his hand. "No, no," he said. 

"Did--did I do that?" 

"I think so," he said. "I know you didn't mean to."

"I'm sorry." 

You sighed and brought your knees to your chest and rested your head on them as you glanced out the window. You were almost above the clouds, the plane skimming the very tops. Watching the clouds--while it didn't necessarily relax you--it did allow you to get out of your mind enough until the seatbelt light clicked off. 

You unhooked your seatbelt and walked past the members and to the first class bathroom. You were stunned when you entered to find it at least double the size of the typical economy class bathroom, but the thought soon passed as you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. 

A large brown stain nearly covered the entire front of your T-shirt and your hair was falling out of its ponytail. You sighed, realizing you hadn't grabbed a new shirt out of your carry on. You unlocked the door and pushed it open, only to reveal Yoongi standing in the doorway. 

His hands rested on either side of the door and he looked up at you, your eyes meeting for the first time since the fight. 

You backed into the bathroom and Yoongi followed you in, closing and locking the door behind him. "Take your shirt off," he said. 

"What?" You instinctively crossed your arms as he reached from the hem of your T-shirt. 

"Did it burn you?" 

You uncrossed your arms and allowed him to lift your shirt over your head. He tossed it aside and unbuttoned his own as he looked over your torso. No burns, only the fading hickeys he'd left earlier in the week. 

He finished unbuttoning his flannel--revealing his own white T-shirt underneath--and draped it over your shoulders and began to button it.

"Won't they notice when we get to Japan that I'm wearing your shirt?" 

"Probably."

"What's happening? I hurt Tae and Namjoon mentioned something about not being able to touch you," you said, focusing down on his hands as they finished buttoning the flannel. He was careful not to allow his touches to linger too long, but whenever he pulled away, it felt as if your heart was going to come out of your chest and follow him.

He rolled up the sleeve of his T-shirt exposing a fresh red burn that looked much like the one you'd unintentionally given Taehyung. 

"It happened when Namjoon tried to wake me up," he said. "I think it has to do with the argument we got into last night." 

Your gaze fell to the floor as he mentioned the argument. "So, do we have to work it out, or is it a permanent thing until we figure out how to sever the connection?" 

"I don't know," Yoongi said. "But, I have a fan meeting tomorrow and I feel like my flesh will burn off by the end."

You smirked and couldn't help the chuckle in the back of your throat. "Is that the only reason you're here? So, your hand doesn't burn off?" 

Yoongi's eyes widened. You realized the harshness of your words only after you had said them, but you didn't regret them. You straightened your back and kept your eyes locked on his. 

When he grabbed your hand, your muscles relaxed and the exhaustion you'd felt from the previous days overwhelming you. Your eyelids drooped and you barely felt how your head came to rest just below his collarbones and his arms interlocked at the small of your back. 

"No, I really am sorry, Sumi," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of the plane's engine. "I regretted everything as soon as I said it. I was unfair." 

You opened your eyes, but couldn't bring yourself to look at him. You simply caught a look at yourself in the mirror. Yoongi's flannel coming down to your thighs and the way your arms wrapped around him completely. 

"I shouldn't have said anything to him," you said. "I wasn't thinking."

"Shhh," Yoongi said, one of his hands coming to play with your falling out ponytail. "Jimin told me you were crying last night." You didn't respond but rather turned your face into his chest. "Don't cry over me, okay? Especially if I'm being stupid like that. I'm not worth it."

Tears tickled your eyes. "You said I was stupid--" 

"I didn't mean it. Sumi, you speak two languages and you teach English. You're so smart and you don't even know it. I never should've said anything." 

You pulled away from him, but the air felt lighter around you. You glanced at yourself in your mirror. 

"My god," you said, in English, pulling out your ponytail and allowing your hair to fluff out around your face. You used your hands to smooth back the hair, but stopped when he placed his hands on top of yours. 

"Let me do it," he said. Yoongi took hold of the hair tie and did the same motion with his hands, but due to his vantage point, he was able to pull your hair tighter. 

"How about on our day off in Japan I take you on a proper date?" he asked, tying up your hair. 

"I'd like that," you said, turning around and smiling up at him. 

He only responded with the smile you'd come to love.

[patchoulimademoiselle]

Guilty. (Part 1.)

Part One.

Steve Rogers (Lawyer AU) x Reader Insert. 

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Work place romance, smoking, self destructive habits, language, adult themes. (No smut just yet lol.) 

Masterlist. 

Part One: 

Your cell phone rings, a sound that pulls a loud groan from the back of your throat, the sandwich in your hand thrown down onto your desk as you blindly dig through your purse for it, eyes sharp as you stare at the girl sitting across from you, Wanda. "It's my boss," Your tone is clipped as you look down, "Stay quiet."

You sigh, push your hair from your face as if he could see how relaxed you were moments ago, muster up a second wind of energy, and rise to your feet as you take the call. "Steve, finished so soon?"

"Cut the shit, Y/n." He's speaking over the plastic straw between his teeth, sipping on an iced coffee no doubt. "I know you're goofing off with that stupid assistant of yours."

You're lucky he isn't on speaker, and you walk quickly out of Wanda's ear shot. "Be nice! She's new, just like I was."

He hums, the sound of his dress shoes clicking against pavement and cars driving past tells you he's walking. "But you were never dull, never as dense. You wouldn't still work for me otherwise."

You, an assistant, were gifted your own assistant. The work load you take on under Rogers overwhelms the responsibility you still have at the firm, and so they decided to assign someone under you, unheard of and argued among the people above you, but Steve thought it was a good idea. All he saw was dollar signs, you moving up with your reputation and gifting him a chance to charge more for both of your services in the court room.

But Wanda was young, too young to understand the importance of the work she does here, too hung up on boys and partying to see her job as anything other than a job.

"You didn't call me to talk about this." You push open the doors to the balcony in his office, stepping outside for fresh air.

"No, I didn't. I'm done with my client, I'm sending you my location."

He doesn't give you a chance to protest, hanging up the call, a text message coming through seconds later. You groan, heeled foot tapping on the pavement as you weigh your options. You had expected to have at least another two hours free to train Wanda, but that had just been stolen from right under your nose.

You count your steps back to your desk, a nervous tick you picked up in law school, plopping back down to finish your sandwich, roasted turkey breast with all the trimming.

"Wanda," You speak over half chewed food, manners gone out the window in your rush to find an excuse to slip away. "I've been called out, something important has come up with a new client." Her eyes snap up to you from the stack of papers in front of her. "I'll be back as soon as I can, just stay by your phone and I'll let you know what's going on."

She looks nervous, never left here in your office alone before, and you feel bad, remembering how it felt to be new in such a large place. This was a building full of people with their heads in their asses, established lawyers with years of experience under their belts. She was prey among wolves, protected only by your presence, and now you were leaving her.

"Don't leave this office unless it's to use the bathroom." You say. "Don't be loud, don't speak to anyone, keep your head down and stay out of trouble."

All things you wish Steve had told you, all things you had to learn on your own. It's hard being a woman studying law, you're automatically ruled out simply for being a woman.

You offer her a gentle smile, reaching into your wallet and pulling out a twenty dollar bill. "Door Dash some food if you want, or waste it in the vending machine, just remember to take a break and hydrate yourself."

She looks doe eyed, "Thank you." She says, and you're tempted to just bring her along and shove her into the back seat of your car, tell her to stay quiet and to not repeat anything she might hear.

But Steve would throw a fit, you can see it now, a ghost of a smile coats your lips as you leave her behind, stuffing the last of your sandwich into your mouth as you scoop up your purse.

You're tired, Steve called you in early this morning to get some work done before your assistant was scheduled to come in. A new case was dropped on his desk, and you made arrangements for him to meet with his new client immediately. He took a cab, slightly annoyed that you weren't free to take him there, but there was no excuse now, not with your assistant busy at work, you could slip away for a little while to do the second part of your job, assist big shot lawyer Steve Rogers.

The address he gave you was a coffee shop, but naturally he's walked a good block away from it by now, bored and restless in the city of New York waiting around for you, and you honk your horn when you see him walking, phone pressed to his ear.

He gets in, tossing his brief case in the back seat, pressing his phone to his chest. "Find some food? I could go for a burger."

Steve is very particular about what he eats, especially all American classics. He's craving something greasy probably, a nice greasy sloppy burger with salty fries and a thick shake. You're slightly pissed that you ate already, because eating again will ruin your appetite for dinner, but you wouldn't turn down the opportunity for good food, especially if Steve is going to be paying.

He wraps up his phone call just as you swing by Five Guys, parallel parking across the street from the diner. He stares at you for a moment, eyes squinted and glaring until you pull a face at him. "What?" You ask, shifting in your seat.

"This case is being paid for by the state, our client has no money." He says, "He's suing because of wage violations."

You shrug, settling back into your seat, not understanding his tone or expression. "So? This is easy for you."

"It's against Stark Industries."

You frown, eyebrows knit. "Oh shit."

"Yeah," His chuckle is almost nervous, pushing the car door open to get out. "Shit."

You walk across the street together, and you make a show of clinging to his arm for support. He glares down at you, but let's you, baby blue's almost welcoming your touch as he helps you across the street. Then he's shrugging you off and ushering you inside the diner.

"I'll pay," He says. "But the next one is on you."

You kiss his cheek in thanks, whispering your order in his ear and then ducking off into the ladies room, running wet fingers through your hair and swiping on a new coat of smudge proof lipstick.

Your relationship with Steve Rogers is a complicated one. There's chemistry, obvious chemistry that often leaves you flustered, just like this, but he refuses to do anything about it. In fact, you've talked about it before, the backs of your thighs pressed to his desk top as he kissed you, telling you that he couldn't, wouldn't go any farther because if his career has taught him anything at all it's that you don't shit where you eat. If word got out that you two were an item, you would be torn to shreds in the court room, all credibility out of the window, and he would be forced to fire you to save his reputation.

But it's still there, lingering in the way he looks at you and talks to you. That fire is still there, and one day it was going to consume you both.

You undo a couple buttons on your shirt and untuck it from your skirt, rolling up your sleeves and letting go for a moment, the heels you wear suffocate your feet, so you slip out of them, carrying them back out into the seating area to find Steve. He's sitting in a booth next to the window, glaring sharply at you as you walk over, your food waiting for you.

"You look like a slut."

You laugh, snatching up your milkshake as you sit, sucking the thick liquid through a straw. "No, I look like I'm not stressed out for once." You nod to him him for emphasis, his forehead wrinkled. "You should try it."

He's wearing his suit jacket still, which he quickly shrugs off and places beside him. He rolls up his sleeves as well, plucking a fry from his plate as he alternates sleeves, eyes never leaving you as he copies your current state, reaching up to undo his tie and unbutton the top of his shirt.

"Better?" He sweeps a hand through his hair, reaching for his own shake, and it makes you smile.

The sun hits his face just right, lashes looking elongated against his cheeks each time he blinks, the direct sunlight revealing a hint of green hidden in his eyes.

"Much," You reach for your burger, needing to distract yourself. "Now tell me about this guy."

"Barnes." He says, clearing his throat, talking around a mouth full of chocolate shake. "James Barnes. He's owed two weeks of pay and Stark Industries is refusing to pay it, something about the prosthetic he wears being a violation of his working contract."

"That's bullshit."

"Sure, but Stark has good lawyers." He says, fingers pinching up a bunch of fries. "He'll find a loop hole."

"So what are we going to do?" You ask, juice from your burger coats your fingers, and your chin, hands too full to wipe the mess away.

Steve regards you for a moment, takes you in as the mess you are, and his touch is gentle as he reaches over with a napkin to wipe your face. "You are going to sit in your office and dig up everything you can on Stark Industries and James Barnes. I'm going to do a bit of field work, find out who his lawyers are and how dirty they're willing to play it."

You hum, mouth full. "This is good."

He rolls his eyes, dropping the napkin and going for his own food. "I can tell, you've made a mess of yourself." There's a husk to his voice that's far too suggestive, and you do all you can to ignore it.

A part of you is worried about the case. You're never seen Steve so worked up about one before. Tony Stark is known for burning lawyers to get his way, and he pays much more than the state could ever afford to pay you to take a case. But you're determined to help out as much as you can, the case is a simple one and will go in your favor on it's own, but these kinds of people don't play far, which is why it's important to figure out what tactics they will use in the court room.

You sit there for about an hour, eating until you can't, bickering and tossing an occasional fry to get your point across. All in all Steve Rogers is good company. Some people will never get to know that, his reputation precedes him, scaring away anyone who dares to get close. But you know better. You know that there's some kind of gentleness in his hard glares, you know that he cares even despite the cold tone of his voice, his eyes warm and kind even if his jaw is set in anger.

He cares about you, more than he would ever say out loud, and you're lucky to be good at reading him. You would never know otherwise.

When you get back to the firm, Wanda is where you left her, fresh Subway on the corner of your desk, and Steve grumbles as he makes his way back into his own office, which you glare at him for. She's done a majority of her work, filing, and you feel bad to add another task to her list, but you're on a case after all, and there is urgency.

"Wanda, be a dear on fax me everything we have recorded on Stark Industries." You say, dropping your bag and once again slipping out of your heels. "Check all records, I want everything, no matter how minor."

She nods, tapping the stack of papers in front of her. "What about this?"

You shrug. "It will be there. Save it for tomorrow, you can go home after you do this last thing for me."

You can see the way her eyes light up, and you smile to yourself as she gets up to do as you asked. You settle at your desk and power on your computer, waiting for her to send the information over. In the mean time you straighten up, adding to your pile of items to shred, something else you can have Wanda do tomorrow, collecting spoiled food from the mini fridge in the corner, tossing out piling up take out trash and organizing your desk.

Steve hears the commotion, pulling open the dividing doors between your offices, and pokes his head in. "Sent her home?"

"Soon." You say, "Need me for something?"

"Not really, I just don't care to babysit."

His attitude about your assistant is understandable. Steve works in a particular way, and you've since been accustomed to making things work. Wanda only slows him down. Well, at least that's how he sees it, because she slows you down, which then slows him down. But you were new once too, just as slow an annoying as he finds Wanda, and you understand how it feels to be the new girl. She's young and a bit naive, but helpful, and you won't let Steve Rogers scare her away.

"Stop being rude," You snap. "She's trying, and she hasn't made a single mistake yet." You sigh, exhaustion setting in as you pinch your eyes. "I'm going to pull an all nighter, dig up some dirt for you."

He drums his fingers on the door, pushing it open wider. "I have some dirt to dig up on my own as well. I also need to schedule a meeting with someone, I'll be here a while."

It reminds you of when you were newer, eager to please, you would sprawl out on the floor of his office with your cheap laptop and notepad, the two of you fueled up on garbage coffee and staying up all night to prep for a case. It doesn't feel that way anymore, there is no enthusiasm because there are no risks. Steve is one of the best in the country, he's never lost a case, and you've proven yourself by being at his side for so long. But this is different. You're going up against someone with power, someone loved by the people. The risk is mild, but very much there, and it has you both anxious and on the edge of your seats again.

“I'll fish out my laptop and we can work together?" You offer, unsure of what he'll say. But his subtle nod back into his office is answer enough for you, and you watch as he spins on his heels.

"Dinner is on you."

You huff, rubbing your face, mentally preparing you for the night ahead. "Of course it is."

You send Wanda home, double checking the faxes she's sent up from records, every case Stark Industries has ever had displayed before your eyes, and you tell her to come in as soon as she can tomorrow morning.

You won't be getting any sleep tonight, so you do all you can to make yourself comfortable, fishing a pair of leggings out of the trunk of your car to change into, and ordering takeout for you and Steve to eat while you work. You power up your laptop, pushing your desk through the dividing doors to line with his, working across from each other to put together some counter argument for any bullshit Stark and his people manage to come up with.

The hidden elements you find are shocking, police officers paid to go on trial and lie, lawyers who were burned for trying to go up against Stark, judges fired and discredited for being tipped off, all real cases that the media hasn't covered. Stark has his toes dipped into every industry there is, including the media, any and all press about either him or his company is filtered through his payroll. You greedily take notes, writing down names and dates, and a few details and citations to type up later into official statements.

Steve seems to be having a hard time though, his coffee cup once again empty, his fingers laced together in his hair, eyes staring blankly at the computer screen in front of him. He's trying to get dirt on Stark's lawyers, find out who is working with who, and who he can trust to get information from. But everyone has been sworn to secrecy, tipped off and paid to stay quiet. If Steve dives down the wrong path, it can trigger a chain reaction that will make it's way back to Stark, and all the work done to build a solid case against him will be for nothing.

"Steve?" Your pen taps as you wait for his eyes to meet yours. "Smoke break?"

He nods, rising far too quickly from his seat, and you follow after him, fishing a pack of cigarettes from your purse and a lighter for him.

Smoking isn't something you condone. In fact, you find it disgusting. But the nicotine rush does help you concentrate, it helps him far more than it helps you. The coffee has been enough, especially since you've had three cups of it. But after living this way for so long, after wiring your brain to work under extreme conditions, sometimes it takes the extreme to get the gears turning. For Steve, smoking is considered and extreme.

He takes it from you with a gentle thank you, fingertips brushing yours as you both step out onto the balcony. He lights a cigarette quickly, taking it between his lips, and the way he visibly relaxes scares you a bit.

You can't help it, fingers reaching to grab the collar of his shirt. The moon hits his skin just right, his eyes seeming to twinkle as he glances down at you, cigarette tucked between his fingers as he reaches up to grab your chin, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

He tastes like sugar, his lips warm as they press against your own, and your eyes flutter close at the sensation. It's scandalous, two coworkers sneaking a kiss on the balcony of the law firm they work out, concealed in darkness, but still not safe from the consequences of getting caught. It drives you further, makes you moan in his mouth as his grip adjusts to your throat, holding you in place, drawing it out of you.

Then just like that he's pulling away, forehead wresting against yours as he takes a deep breath to control himself. It's unspoken, but understood. You can't.

"Maybe we should wrap up in a few hours." You suggest, eyeing his wrist watch. "A bit of sleep will do you good."

He snorts, and you have your answer. "Leave if you want."

You both know you won't, so you share a cigarette on the balcony at three in the morning, lips tingling with the ghost feeling of his lips on yours, waiting for the sun to rise and the caffeine to leave your system so that you can refuel.

The smoke break works, Steve is lively as ever for the next couple of hours, putting together his to do list for the day, and you type up your findings for him. When the sun comes up, you go your separate ways. You go home to freshen up, and he heads out on his long trail of hunting. You text Wanda, asking when she'll be able to come in. She tells you that the metro won't be at her stop for a couple of hours, and you offer to pick her up instead. She doesn't refuse.

You shower, change clothes, style your hair, skipping out on breakfast in hopes that Wanda will want to grab something on the way.

The address she gives you is near the college campus, no doubt a dorm she shares with other people. Her hair is a little frizzy, her dress wrinkled, you notice immediately that she hadn't been prepared to come in, but you don't mention it. Instead you ask her where she wants to get breakfast, and in true college kid fashion, "Starbucks" is what she requests.

You both get muffins and coffee, and she thanks you, once again for treating her to a meal. She's starting to warm up to you, smiling more, unafraid to speak her mind. "Can I ask you something?" Her lips are wrapped around the green straw, plush and pink, and you realize how pretty she actually is, even with no effort really put into her appearance today.

"Sure." You shrug, eyes on the road ahead of you as you drive to the law firm.

"Are you and Steve dating?"

The question nearly makes you crash, you sputter for a response, cheeks flushing and breath leaving your lungs. She smiles. "It's just that the way he acts when I'm around-"

"Don't worry about him." You cut her off. "He's just old and cranky."

She smiles, but shakes her head. "I don't mind it, I've had worse. But I've noticed how protective he is over you and over his work. It seems to be the only thing he cares about."

Her words surprise you a bit, because you didn't think about it that way. You saw his mistreatment of her to be simply that, another big guy picking on a little guy. You didn't think for a second that he was just trying to protect you.

"That doesn't make it right." Is all you can say.

"I can handle myself, Y/n." She says, reminding you of a younger version on yourself. "It's the case you're taking on that you need to worry about."

For once, you see Wanda for who she really is. Not a shy timid girl who hides behind good behavior, but a law student, smart and witty, knowing when to hide behind a facade and when to actually speak her mind.

She knows something, if not about the case, then about Steve Rogers, and given the far away look in her eyes, she isn't a girl you should underestimate.

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

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[charliesworkshop]

Señorita - A Bucky Barnes smut

Song inspiration: Señorita - Shawn Mendes, Camila Cabello

Pairing: Bucky x OFC (there's no name but I don't feel comfortable enough with my writing to do proper reader inserts)

Warnings: basically smut without plot, swearing, unprotected sex

AN: How do you add a "read more" on your phone? Asking for... me. I'm dumb. My posts are usually short, and not NSFW. HELP~ I posted this on my laptop with the "keep reading" thingy and it worked until I edited the post on my phone. It's just like Tumblr doesn't want me to write here.

Also, yes, I know on the gif there is SNOW and the ff states it's HOT, but that's the best I could do.

Saying goodbye to coworkers she walked through the hot kitchen of the diner she worked in, and out of the back entrance, only for employees and delivered. She gladly welcomed fresh night air, cool breeze making her more aware of sweat on her skin. Wiping her forehead with the back of hand she looked around the dark back alley, as always, hoping he'll be waiting for her.

And tonight she wasn't disappointed.

"Hola señorita," he greeted her, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, walking towards her.

"Hi," she smiled back at him, meeting him quickly half way, exhaustion of the hard day leaving her body as she inspected his face in search of new bruises and cuts. At the first glance he looked fine, and she felt her heart getting lighter, her smile got more relaxed.

It's been four days since she's last seen him, and with every passing night she was getting more worried, but now it was all irrelevant. He was here, safe, without any wounds, any signs his last 'mission' went sideways.

"I was worried, James." She cupped his face with both hands, making him look directly at her. She called him by his name only when she was very serious, or angry, or when she wanted him really badly. This time it was a mixture of all of the above. "You've been gone for four days, no text, not a single call..."

Yes, she was happy to see him, however, she didn't like that he let her worry for so long. She'd understand if he got in trouble and couldn't keep her posted, but apparently he just... forgot? Or maybe did it on purpose? How the fuck would she know...

A smug smile creeped upon his features when she huffed with annoyance. "What is so funny?"

"Did you miss me, señorita?" he asked teasingly, his arms wrapping around her, "Because I really fucking missed you."

"Why do you insist on calling me señorita?" she stammered, pressing her palms flat to his chest, hard muscles working beneath her fingers as his hands roamed her body, gliding down her sides, brushing over hips, grabbing her ass, pulling her closer to his hot body.

Yes, she was a bit angry he didn't call even once, but she couldn't be mad for long when it was so obvious she missed him as hell, her body quickly responding to his touch, her heart beating faster, face getting hotter.

"It fits you," his raspy voice warmed her ear, teeth grazing over her earlobe sent a shiver down her spine, making her shudder in his arms, soft moan escaping her parted lips.

"We shouldn't..." she whispered, breath pitching in her throat when he pressed her back against the wall, lifting her body from the ground, his hands securely gripping her thighs. "Someone can see us..."

"Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop," he crooned, leaving her really little to no choice when his lips trailed her jaw, peppering her skin with wet kisses, biting gently on her chin, catching her lips with his, muffling a whimper when he rolled his hips onto hers.

"Make it quick," she breathed out, her hands running up his chest, on the back of his neck to tug on his hair.

She didn't have to repeat herself, he groaned deeply, corners of his mouth lifting in a satisfied smile. He knew which of her buttons to push to get exactly what he wanted from her, and right now it was to completely immerse himself in her, in her intoxicating warmth and scent.

"Fuck, doll... I barely touched you and you're already dripping," he teased, pushing her panties aside, fingers brushing over her hot folds already covered in slick, wet enough for him to just slip his cock inside. She moaned impatiently, her hips bucking up in search for some friction. She could feel how hard he was, his cock straining against the fabric of his tac pants.

"Oh just fuck me already," she urged him, her heaving chest pressed against his, breath hot and shallow, warming his neck as she pressed her lips to his skin, sucking an angry red mark right above his collarbone.

"As you wish." Holding her with the metal hand, he slipped the other one between their bodies to free his cock, pushing the waistband of his pants just enough so they wouldn't restrict his moves. Gripping his arm with one hand, she pulled her dress up, wrapped her legs around his waist, only glancing at the end of the dark alleyway to make sure no one's watching. But even if there was someone watching, she didn't care as soon as he aligned his length with her entrance, spreading her folds, coating himself with her arousal. She moaned louder, pressing her lips to his neck, her hips rolling unvolounterly into his when he pushed past her entrance, rushing him to fill her entirely. To which he gladly obliged, bottoming out in one swift movement, low growl escaping his throat at the hot feeling of her tight cunt.

"Keep squeezin' me like that and it's really gonna be very quick," he grunted, free hand now resting at the back of her neck, fingers entwined in the loose hair there, his lips ghosting over hers. "Give me a sec... I need..." What he needed, wanted, was to fuck her brains out, make her scream his name, but if he was to last longer than a minute he needed to take it slow, at least at the beginning. And her rapid heartbeat against his chest, and the musky heavy scent of her arousal mixed with the taste of her lips, skin, sweet breath, wasn't helping. He wasn't moving, his cock buried deep in her welcoming warmth, but she was getting impatient.

"Less talking, more fucking, sarge," she cooed knowing well how this nickname worked him up, catching his lips with hers in a sloppy kiss, one hand slipping underneath his skintight shirt, fingers digging into his side, pulling him closer.

"Be careful, doll," he warned her, pressing his forehead against hers, inhaling sharply when she pushed her hips harder onto his, "I don't want to hurt you."

"Maybe I want you to hurt me," she mused in raspy voice, dragging her nails across his ribs, earning a quiet hiss from him, a slight push deeper into her itching pussy. Oh, she really wanted him to move, to bruise her skin, to mark her with his desire. And she knew he wanted the same thing, but as always he was hesitant, afraid of hurting her too much.

"Stop... sayin' things like this," his deep growl sent a shiver down her spine, spreading warmth across her entire body, her nails digging deeper into his sweaty skin.

He really tried to control himself, his thrusts slow, almost lazy, but every sound she made was driving him more and more crazy, to the point when he eventually pressed his palm to the wall, stabilizing himself as he snapped his hips harder, and she was done for.

Her head fell back, lips parted in ecstasy as his thick cock was hitting that sweet sweet spot inside her, bringing her closer to the edge, and he could feel that. Pressing her back harder against the wall, he hooked his arm underneath her knee, spreading her legs even more.

The hot coil in her stomach was tightening so fast her breath quickly became uneven, shallow, only gasps escaping her lips, fingers squeezing his arm so hard her knuckles turned white.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-" she stuttered, eyes shutting close when he licked a long stripe up her neck, teeth sinking into sensitive skin just below her ear.

"I know, baby" he murmured, "I know." He always liked to watch her come undone due to his fingers, lips, cock, but this time he was chasing his own release, his thrusts deep and fast, metal fingers gripping her ass hard enough to leave bruises.

Her pussy was squeezing him so so deliciously, his senses were almost overtaken by the sounds their wet skin made, lungs filling with her scent with every rapid breath, but he needed to make sure she comes first, as always.

And as if she was reading his mind, she reached between their bodies, nimble fingers pressing to her clit, rubbing fast circles to help herself, him, to tip her over the edge.

"Kiss me, please..." she begged breathlessly, half-lidded eyes meeting his, darkened with lust. He captured her lips with his in a sloppy kiss, one that quickly turns all teeth and tongues, his flesh hand grabbing the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

She didn't stop rubbing her clit, her arousal now dripping onto his cock, drenching his balls and pants, making his thrusts easier, the sounds wet and lewd. And that was exactly what she needed, mind blowing orgasm crashing through her body, cunt clenching around his length so hard his thrusts became erratic, frenzied.

Burying his cock deep inside her hot pussy, he coated her walls in his seed, letting her milk him dry, as she rode down from her high, her fingers pressed to her throbbing clit. His lips muffled her moans, and if he wasn't kissing her when she came probably everyone would hear how good he made her feel.

"I missed you, too, Buck," she whispered, resting her forehead on his, noses brushing against each other, heavy breaths mixing.

"Yeah, I figured it out," he chucked, his fingers loosening the grip on her ass, and she winced, already feeling the bruises forming. Her legs were sore, tired like after a long run, so she relaxed them, letting him hold her entire weight on his own.

"We should go, you know. We're really risking getting caught..."

A moment later he tucked himself into his pants, straightened his belt and shirt, watching her closely as she quickly made herself look presentable. She, on the other hand, was avoiding looking at him, slightly ashamed of herself, of what they just did.

Thank goodness she was wearing a longer dress today, his cum was dripping out of her, her thighs were wet and sticky, panties a damp mess.

Her cheeks were burning with shame, but she couldn't escape his gaze for eternity, especially that he was weirdly quiet, and that made her look at him.

"What?"

"Did I... Did I hurt you too much?" He was honestly concerned, his brows furrowed, worried wrinkle forming between them as he studied her face.

"That's what you're thinking about?" She quirked her eyebrows, smile spreading across her features. "No, you didn't. I'm fine, really," she reassured him, tucking wet from sweat strands of hair back behind her ears.

He didn't seem convinced, but he learned not to argue with her, only nodded slowly, running fingers through his hair.

"May I walk you home?" An innocent question.

"We live together, Buck," she laughed lightheartedly, her eyes sparkling with true joy when he smiled smugly.

"I know. I'm just trying to be a gentleman. And I like when you laugh..."

"I think you like it more when I moan your name," she teased, slipping her hand into his, interlacing her fingers with his metal ones, and to her surprise he didn't even flinch, making her smile grow wider. "Come on, you've been gone for four days, I need more than a quickie."

AN: So, yeah, my first time posting here. It took my five days to finish this, and I'm not even sure if I like it. I have a problem with finishing smutty parts, that's why it ends... badly. Also, it was entirely written on my phone, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes.

There's no name in the fic so I'm tagging it as a reader insert, dunno, feedback would be nice, but if I may, please, be... kind. English isn't my first language, and I've never posted anything like that here, or anywhere to be honest.

[punkscowardschampions]

Buster & Rio

Buster: did you find her? Rio: Yeah, and with minimal damage, thank fuck Rio: she's sleeping it off now Buster: Good Buster: You should try and get some yourself too, like Rio: Alright, Dad 😜 Rio: I'm good, wasn't as wrecked as you Buster: Fuck off Buster: And you wonder why I ain't polite like you supposedly are Rio: Jokes, grumpy Rio: need an extra 5 yourself, I reckon Buster: Hilarious Buster: I've got coffee I'm fine Rio: I mean, glad to hear you're not starting your day with some lines, babe Buster: Setting such high standards for me, Cavante Buster: Cheers Rio: Idk, that student life init Rio: can't tell me half your class don't reckon they're leo in wolf of wallstreet...boys, please Buster: 😂 Buster: You're right I can't tell you that Rio: See, right AND funny, me Rio: finally getting it Buster: Behave Buster: Just 'cause you saved my night doesn't mean I like you that much Rio: Not all heroes wear capes, McKenna Rio: but I ain't expecting a fruit basket or a thank you note from the desk of Rio: politeness don't gotta extend that far, so you're alright Buster: Ain't that the truth. Might be hungover but I have vivid memories of what you wore last night and a cape doesn't come close Buster: What do you want then, babe? Rio: Good Rio: 'cos a dress like that is not going to waste and it's been insta'd now so gotta wait at least a calendar month if I need to bring it out for someone more appreciative Rio: Ain't that just the question Buster: You reckon there's someone who can compete with me? 😂 You do have jokes Buster: Yeah. So tell me Rio: In appreciation of me? Hmm Rio: Probably not, nah, you are pretty obsessed 😉 Rio: I don't need paying Buster: At anything, babe Buster: Get real Rio: Not the Olympics, babe Rio: I am real Buster: And stupid Buster: shut up Rio: How am I stupid? Rio: And don't tell me to shut up Buster: Don't try and wind me up and I won't Rio: I wasn't even but no surprise it's so easy to push all your buttons Buster: Whatever Buster: Calling out your own lack of skill there, babe Buster: No need to do yourself down this early Rio: Funny Rio: you're the one out here wanting to pay so obviously not Buster: I got cash burning holes, it ain't personal Rio: What a problem to have Rio: I'll make sure not to be offended then Buster: Be how you want Rio: I ain't got time to be mad tbh Rio: Nothing personal, of course, but bigger fish to fry Buster: I'll leave you to it then, yeah? Rio: If you like Rio: fuck knows when Drew'll show up though Buster: Let me know when he does Rio: Sure Rio: gonna need to get in line, like Buster: I'm used to blagging my way to the front, don't worry about it Rio: 😂 Rio: Fuck knows I ain't got a much better plan myself Buster: 'Course Buster: 'Cause it's the best plan, like Buster: 😂 Rio: 🙄😏 Rio: you can help Indie bury the body then, great minds again, like Buster: Yeah Buster: might give her the wrong idea though, you're the hero, it ain't me Rio: Who held her hair back and made her tea and toast Rio: think we're alright, babe Rio: know you truly think you're irresistible Buster: Don't think, I know Buster: And so do you Rio: Whatever you say, boy Buster: What so you need to be told again already, or just shown? Rio: You offering? Buster: You saying you ain't too busy now all of a sudden? Rio: I told you he ain't back yet Buster: Nah you said you dunno when he will be Rio: Pedantic Buster: Could be dramatic if he comes back when I'm making myself at home Buster: That's all Rio: That's a fun euphemism Rio: Gonna write that one down Rio: What would he say? Hey, I'm the only one allowed to do fucked up shit with her! Buster: Don't Buster: It's not funny Rio: Trust me, I know Buster: Fucking hell Buster: Do you really reckon he'll show his face again any time soon? Rio: Probably Rio: Idk, 'less he's trying to do worse this time and straight up ghost all 3 of his kids Rio: Where's he gonna go? Buster: What a cunt Buster: You gonna re-arrange XS for Indie? Rio: Yeah deffo Rio: doubt it'll be tonight but not that hard to sort, know 'em all Buster: Good Buster: Not like she's got anywhere else to go but getting out of her head is the next best thing Rio: Not the message I'm tryna send her, like but 😂 Rio: thank fuck Jay's concept of the bottle is still 🍼 eh Rio: how is she Buster: Christ, don't Buster: but yeah she's alright Rio: Bless Buster: [Sends pics of Jay] Rio: 😍 Buster: Not saying my kid's cuter than yours but like Buster: I can imagine how hungover Indie is Rio: I won't do her like that and take a pic Rio: the friendship back off Buster: I'll check her snap later I'm sure she'll provide her own proof anyway Rio: Awh Rio: She'll be well buzzin' Buster: Belated birthday gift Rio: Won't brag that mine was better or nothing Buster: I wasn't trying to take the gold there Buster: She loves me enough as is Rio: and I meant your gift for me Rio: competitiveness getting the better of you always Buster: Well yeah 'cause that goes without saying Rio: You're cute Buster: Fuck off Rio: aww baby Buster: Rio Buster: Behave Rio: Make me Buster: If I come over there you know I won't want you to Rio: I know Rio: no followthrough 😉 Buster: If that's how you want it I'll make you behave like an 😇 Rio: You know exactly how I want it Buster: But I want you to ask nicely Rio: If I do you promise you'll come see me Rio: too much teasing Buster: I won't be able to resist, will I Buster: If you do Rio: Good because you've got me this way Rio: so I need you to be the one to make me cum Rio: Pretty please Buster: I need to have you all to myself though Buster: Let me take you somewhere Rio: Where though Buster: I don't care as long as Indie ain't there Rio: Alright, not going to argue with you because I'm desperate for you Rio: just make it happen Buster: I'll drive until you tell me to stop, babe Buster: No teasing Rio: I don't know if I'm capable of telling you to stop Rio: goes against everything i want Buster: Fuck Buster: You're making it hard to care if Indie's around Rio: She's slept through worse Rio: you'll have to get creative if you wanna keep me quiet though Buster: You know I don't want you quiet Rio: Then keep talking Rio: Hear me from there Buster: Rio Rio: Yes baby/ Buster: I can't get enough of you Rio: I know Rio: I feel it too Buster: such a headfuck Buster: I can't stop thinking about you Rio: Yeah Rio: but whatever, right? Buster: it's your fault Buster: you're so hot Rio: You can blame me as long as you don't stop fucking me Buster: I can't until you're screaming for me and won't when you beg me Buster: I want you that badly Rio: Buster Rio: Come over now Buster: On my way Rio: Jesus Rio: what the fuck did i do with myself before you Buster: didn't know what you were missing, like Buster: but you don't have to wait for me now if you can't Rio: You want me to touch myself? Buster: Considerate, I know Rio: I'll record it Rio: only fair, it's all for you Buster: yeah? Buster: you're so fucking good Rio: gotta keep up with you yeah Buster: I could say the same to you, babe Rio: Don't do bad between us Buster: Yeah we do, bad in the best way though Rio: Agreed Buster: Steady on, sounded almost like you can stand me then Rio: Let's not get carried away Buster: I'll turn around and leave then shall I, 'cause I was gonna tell you to open the door and let me get very carried away like Rio: Don't Rio: Coming Buster: You will be Rio: Nerd