#but yeah the emote thing ain’t gonna ruin my day but I will complain about it

[impossible-rat-babies]

gonna be unpleasant on main, but I do not like when couples use custom emotes in instances

[roadtohell]

@mynamesdrstuff​ thank you ur brain is so big, i had like 10 moments of revelation while writing this

A Labour of Love- or, How to Write a Song That Makes Me Want to Lie Facedown On The Floor

Four decades separates the respective rises of singer-songwriters Hozier and Bruce Springsteen, nearly as large as the gap between the worlds in which their public images reside. According to popular myth, the former is the tall, near-ethereal Bog Man, half in this life and half in the next, who rose from a fae-inhabited woodland after 1000 years of slumber to find he was able only to mourn his lost love through song; the other is the Boss, a hardy yet compassionate working-class hero permanently streaked with the blood and sweat of a marathon shift, toiling endlessly alongside the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, hard-rocking, earth-quaking, booty-shaking, Viagra-taking*, love-making, legendary E Street Band. The domains of fen and factory may appear to be irreconcilable, but in reality the musicians have many things in common:

Broadly speaking, they both create wildly variable mixes of folk and rock, often with particularly strong Irish and African-American influences.

Their lyrics are poetic and commonly reflect on social issues with a progressive voice.

Songs about romantic relationships typically portray them as complex and difficult but remain respectful, sometimes near worshipful, of women.

Their characters yearn, long, pine and crave more often than not.

They both really like to use religious imagery.

They enjoy and return notable amounts of wlw love.

Representative of many of these are Hozier’s “Work Song” and Springsteen’s “Maria’s Bed”, two songs with close thematic parallels. Each is ostensibly told from the perspective of an exhausted labourer who dreams of returning to his lover. In a twist, however, “Work Song” is a melancholic love story, while the upbeat “Maria’s Bed” is a subtle tale of death; the opposing moods are complex reflections of these underlying narratives. These songs have Hozier and Springsteen skilfully intertwine the concepts of love, death, freedom and spirituality, creating two deeply moving portrayals of desire** that never fail to eviscerate the listener after 10pm.

Though the songs differ in overall lyrical structure, the similarities in narrative are evident from the first few lines:

Boys, workin' on empty / Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? / I just think about my baby / I'm so full of love I could barely eat

Been on a barbed wire highway forty days and nights / I ain’t complaining, it’s my job and it suits me right / I got a sweet soul fever rushing round my head / I’m gonna sleep tonight in Maria’s bed

The audience can gather that each character works in a harsh environment where they are exposed to the elements. Their work is likely in manual labour, but the details are skimmed over because the narrators don’t particularly want to think about the details. Pushed to their limits, each instead copes by preoccupying himself with thoughts of his lover, though it makes him literally lovesick.

I’d never want once from the cherry tree / ‘Cause my baby’s sweet as can be / She gives me toothaches just from kissing me

She gives me candy-stick kisses ‘neath a wolf-dog moon / A sweet breath and she’ll take you, mister, to the upper room

The worker recalls his lover’s kisses as being vibrantly sweet, sweeter than nature. So, too, is her company- in contrast to the grim situation he is currently in, she is something to be savoured. Sugar cravings, an innate biological compulsion, come to mind; his hankering for her is likewise deep-seated and out of his control.

The reason for such devotion, the narrator reveals, is that she saved his life at a time when he had already resigned himself to death. He believes he was undeserving of such a deed; Hozier describes “three days on a drunken sin… she never asked me once about the wrong I did,” while Springsteen’s character recounts being “burned by angels, sold wings of lead / then I fell in the roses and sweet salvation of Maria’s bed”. In other words, his state of ruin was at least partially self-made, and her care seemed completely inexplicable. He eagerly returns her love, perhaps feeling that it’s the least he owes- but he still doesn’t quite understand where it came from.

True to both songwriters’ styles, these lines are direct allusions to the idea of redemption in Christianity: God sheltering a faithful person from the literally hellish consequences of their wrongdoing, through no merit of their own. However, the worker is notably dismissive of traditional doctrine:

My babe would never fret none / About what my hands and my body done / If the Lord don’t forgive me / I’d still have my baby and my babe would have me

I’ve been out in the desert, yeah, doing my time / Searching through the dust for fool’s gold, looking for a sign / Holy man says “hold on, brother, there’s a light up ahead” / Ain’t nothing like the light that shines on me in Maria’s bed

His faith rests not in God but on his lover; she is his religion now. Her act of grace already gave him a new, better life- he doesn’t need biblical promises when her love is tantamount to anything heaven might offer. This implication conveys a staggering depth of feeling, particularly to a religiously raised listener. Spirituality is, at its core, emotional; combined with the values and customs of religion, it is a force that can exert incredible influence over a person. The worker doesn’t reject spirituality itself- it’s an intrinsic part of him- but he has put all that power in the hands of the one he adores. It may make him vulnerable to her (that’s love!), but he is certain that she will give him the strength he needs.

Theological redemption also has close ties with death, as its benefits aren’t meant to be reaped on earth. Instead, the love, glory and freedom that are promised are relegated to the afterlife. Historically, the presumed ecstasy of achieving this gave death a sexual connotation; after all, if a lover could take the spiritual place of God, then perhaps sex could take the role of death as a gateway to paradise, far away from a life of pain. Work Song embraces this analogy, explicitly linking spiritual fulfilment to the pleasure of sexual intimacy:

When I was kissing on my baby / And she put her love down, soft and sweet / In the low lamplight, I was free / Heaven and hell were words to me

The equally suggestive Maria’s Bed allows the audience to draw similar conclusions, but it accomplishes this using a far less serious method: regular mentions of the titular bed, wink-wink-nudge-nudge. Yet this light-hearted sauciness is something of a misdirection. It’s easy to gloss over the song’s references to water, but they are strong hints that support an alternative reading: Maria is not a woman, but a river***. The story, from this perspective, then becomes much more sombre- the worker is a dying or suicidal man who wishes to have his body laid at the bottom of a river that provided for him in life, and whose real desire is for the peace he hopes to find there in death.

Got on my dead man’s suit and smiling skull ring / Lucky graveyard boots and a song to sing / I keep my heart in my work, my troubles in my head / And I keep my soul in Maria’s bed

This darker interpretation arguably makes more sense than the face-value love story, as it resolves some figures of speech that otherwise seem out of place. Even so, the more obvious reading is no less meaningful****; in fact, the coexistence of these narratives is what makes Maria’s Bed an almost perfect thematic inverse to Work Song.

When my time comes around / Lay me gently in the cold dark earth / No grave can hold my body down / I’ll crawl home to her

Hozier uses the finality of death to illustrate the strength of a man’s desire for love- his narrator embraces his own passing as he is certain not even the most permanent of barriers can keep him from his lover. Springsteen, through the personification of the river, uses the language of romance to demonstrate how fervently a man might desire death- his narrator embraces his demise because it offers a reprieve from life, just like a lover would.

All that said, no amount of lyrical analysis will reveal the clearest point of contrast the songs have: their music.

Work Song primarily draws from blues and folk music, both of which have roots in historical work songs used to coordinate physical tasks as well as boost morale. Reflecting this musical heritage, instrumentation is fairly simple, with the steady rhythm of claps and piano chords punctuating hard. It is slow and heartfelt, almost mournful; though there’s no mention of time frame, the audience has the sense that the worker still has a long way to go before he can return to his lover.  This notion comes largely from the song’s circular structure. By ending with the same music it opened with, its story is also implied to finish at its beginning: with the men hard at work in the “burning heat”, and no true relief in sight. This is furthered by having little development over the course of the song- though iterations of the chorus are more intense than the verses, the arrangements underlying both sections barely change. The worker, it seems, is never quite far enough from his reality of hard labour, and never close enough to home.

On the other hand, Maria’s Bed is relentlessly optimistic, driven by a strong forward momentum. Where most modern songs have their choruses as their most powerful feature, here the wordless refrain (“hey hey, la la la li li li li”) acts more like a transition between verses, keeping the story moving. The jaunty fiddles that fade out are quite different to the introductory guitar and organ, suggesting the worker’s situation has developed for the better. In addition, the orchestration builds continually, only briefly pulling back before the music culminates in an extended musical outro. Many of the instruments work in counterpoint, each additional layer contributing to an air of an unrestrained joy that is further spurred on by Springsteen’s high hums and whoops. The linear musical direction and overall impression of good cowboy fun results in the feeling that, unlike the singer of Work Song, the narrator is already on his way to his heart’s desire- though, in light of the lyrics, what this actually means is somewhat ambiguous. Are those final echoes him moving out of earshot… or his ghost ascending to the “upper room” of heaven?

We may not know for sure how either of these stories end, but we can feel the aching hope for something better. This longing is an emotional line that runs all the way through both Springsteen and Hozier’s work, though it never seems to get old. Combined with explorations of love, faith, life, death- that’s why we return to their music again and again; they are experts at playing on old motifs and universal themes in new and creative ways, their crafted melodies and narratives touching wild and industrial hearts alike.

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* I am legally obligated to include all these adjectives.

** Maria’s Bed seems to be sadly obscure even among fans; the one and only online forum discussion I have seen about the song refers to it as “not that deep”. Having written this whole essay- if Springsteen himself said that to me, I’d laugh in his face.

*** A random internet comment I can’t find anymore backs me up on this. It even specified that it was about the Santa Maria River in California, as quoted “from Bruce”. Obviously an infallible source 😊

**** It’s important that “[drinking] the cool clear waters” can totally be the description of oral sex you thought it was.

[cherryrogers]

falling for you {ch. 3}

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | high school au

warnings: mentions of an unhealthy relationship, mostly fluff.

synopsis: Unlike most teenagers, you had your life completely mapped out. You’d graduate high school, go off to the university of your dreams, and live the life that your parents always wanted you to. That was the plan. Falling for Bucky Barnes, however, was never part of that plan.

a/n: just wanted to say that the warnings are different for each chapter, but the synopsis is always for the whole fic - just in case that was confusing :) pls enjoy !!

Series Masterlist

Usually, weekends for you consisted of textbooks and flashcards galore, and of course, a helping of hanging out with Bucky on the side. It hadn’t been until Sunday since you actually heard from him since seeing him at school, so on Saturday, you’d planned to get as much work as possible done so that a burden wasn’t weighing on you when Bucky inevitably whisked you away from your bedroom the next day.

However, you somehow managed to get nothing done. Your parents still hadn’t called you about the dreaded detention that’d ruined your perfect record, which was a relieving sign at first. Although as time went on, the relief began to build into more and more anxiety. Maybe they hadn’t checked in with the school yet, maybe they just didn’t know you had detention. The thought even occurred to you that perhaps they knew you had detention, but just hadn’t called you to complain about it. That seemed very unlikely, however — when any chance to lecture you appeared, they usually took it. You knew the call was coming, it was bound to, and the thought would be keeping you on edge until it actually happened. In a way, you wished they’d just call and get it over with; they’d pointlessly lectured you enough times for you to learn to tune it out.

Bucky had shown up to your house on Sunday morning, insisting that he took you out to this diner that him and the guys went to all the time. You’d woken up late that morning, after the stress of the day prior had drained you of all energy, to the sound of pounding on your door.

“Mornin’, sunshine.” He greeted you, smirking as he eyed your pyjama shorts and oversized hoodie, as well as your far from tidy hair. It was a first for him, seeing you in a still half-asleep state. The boy had forgotten to text you first, much to your frustration, but only because he was set on getting to your house as quick as possible so that you didn’t miss the breakfast specials at the diner. Besides, he still thought you were as pretty as ever, even when you’d just rolled out of bed.

He wished he could tell you that.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes with fisted hands as you attempted to not be blinded by the sudden rush of daylight through your door. “Please tell me there’s a good reason why you’re incessantly banging on my door.”

“We’re gonna take you out for breakfast, sweets.”

“We? Who else is—”

“Hey, hot stuff.” You were cut off by another voice, one you immediately recognised as Sam Wilson’s. Leaning to the side to look around Bucky, you rolled your eyes as Sam winked at you, blatantly mocking your outfit as he leaned casually against his car.

Next to him, Steve narrowed his eyes at the boy before turning to you and giving you a shy smile. “Hey, (Y/N).”

Giving both of them a hesitant wave, you set your eyes back on Bucky. Although there was that annoying voice in the back of your head screaming at you that you needed to study, you weren’t about to turn the boy down. Even if you did, you doubted he’d take ‘no’ for an answer.

Plus, you felt bad about making Bucky worry about you on Friday. Though there wasn’t really anything for him to be concerned about, you hated thinking that you were putting some sort of emotional burden on him. At the same time, however, you didn’t want him to think you didn’t care. If you kept trying to emotionally distance yourself from him, it wasn’t going to do either of you any good. You couldn’t just study to distract yourself from the rest of your life, as much as you wished you could. When you had lunch with Pietro, that seemed to make you feel better, so you were sure going out with Bucky would do the same.

“Alright, give me twenty minutes to get ready.”

“Really? No ‘I need to study’ bullshit?”

“Do you want me to make this harder for you?”

Bucky’s smirk faded into a soft smile after chuckling a little. “No, I’m glad you wanna come. See you in the car, sweets.”

After nodding and closing the front door, Bucky grinned to himself in content before making his way back over to Sam’s car.

An hour later, the four of you were tucked into a booth in the retro diner. Carter’s, it was called. Bucky and you were sat on one side of the booth, his arm resting on the top of your seat, just grazing the back of your head, while the other two boys sat opposite.

The diner was rather lovely — it had a pale pink and blue theme, gleaming neons signs placed all along the walls, even an old jukebox in the far corner playing songs from the fifties. It was quite spacious, having lots of tables and booths scattered across the tiled floor, and the place happened to be pretty crowded.

“So, what is it about this place that you like so much?” You asked, not to any of the boys in particular.

Bucky let out a laugh. “I think Steve can answer that one for you.”

Your brows furrowed before you turned your head to look at Steve, whose cheeks had began to tint a rosy pink.

“I have a friend that works here.”

“Friend? Didn’t she stay the night at your place, like, last week?” Sam questioned, earning himself a glare from the blond as Bucky snorted.

“Well, yeah. But it’s more than that; Peggy’s different.”

“That’s sweet, Steve,” You gave him a smile. “Is she still in school?”

“She goes to Shield High, yeah.”

Sam raised a brow. “Ain’t that the fancy girls school a few blocks away?”

“It’s the same one Natasha goes to.”

“Who’s Natasha?” You asked, and an odd silence followed your question. Dumbly, Sam and Steve slowly shifted their eyes towards Bucky.

You copied them, turning to look at the boy next to you, who seemed to have joined in with the uncomfortable silence too. Cocking a brow, you looked back over to the other two boys, and after a couple of quiet seconds, you got your answer.

“She’s Bucky’s ex-girlfriend,” Sam spoke, sipping his coffee to try and hide his amused smirk. “Didn’t you know? I mean, they were together for a year. A whole ass year, I thought everybody—”

“Sam, stop talking.” Steve sighed, glaring at his friend, who soon realised that perhaps not everyone was aware of the past relationship. If you’d been looking his way, you would’ve seen the awkward smile that’d settled on his lips.

Bucky’s ex-girlfriend. Natasha was Bucky’s girlfriend for a year, a year, and you had never heard her name slip from his lips once. Your gaze was set on the table, unable yet to look up at Bucky who you could sense now swarmed with guilt. Not that there was any reason for him to feel guilty. It was clearly none of your business, clearly something he didn’t want you involved in.

Before Bucky could interject, a waitress began to approach your booth, the clicking of her heels against the tiles stopping once she’d made it over. When your eyes flicked up to look at her, you were almost taken aback by her looks. She was gorgeous, definitely — her lips were painted a cherry red, and her chocolate curls were resting comfortably on her shoulders.

And by the way Steve was looking at her, you were sure he was thinking the same thing. It was pretty safe to assume the the waitress was the friend he’d been talking about.

The blond beamed up at her as she greeted him before beginning to share a sweet conversation, Sam watching them in amusement. Meanwhile, Bucky took their distraction as an opportunity to shuffle closer to you in his seat, his right thigh now pressing against your left.

The moment might’ve had your heart racing if your head wasn’t clouded with confusion over why you’d been kept in the dark by him.

Leaning down so that the conversation was kept quiet, Bucky began to talk. “I know what you’re thinking; I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Natasha. I promise, I’ll explain it all when it’s just us.”

“When were you guys together?” You asked simply, but curious as to why Bucky felt he had to apologise.

A sigh escaped his lips. “We broke up the summer before junior year. Dated when we were both sophomores.”

It felt like a punch to the gut for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, knowing Bucky had kept a whole relationship from you. A year long relationship that ended only months before you met him. A year was a long time to spend with someone — Natasha was surely someone that meant a lot to him. Countless times, you’d told Bucky your embarrassing crush stories and about the utter awkwardness that was your first kiss. There wasn’t a lot about your past that he didn’t know, so why hadn’t he trusted you with such a large part of his life?

You made the assumption that he’d never been in a proper relationship before, and since you’d never been in one either, it gave you a sense of comfort. Thinking you could relate to Bucky in that you’d never felt so strongly for someone, that you’d never loved someone. Was Bucky ever in love with her? Was he still? And what did he think of you? God, he probably thought you were pathetic. Just a little girl who’d never been in love, who’d never been on a date, who’d never done the dirty. Not that he knew that, but he could assume it, since you had a better relationship with the librarian at the library near your house than you’d ever had with another teenager.

You know what? It’s not like you and Bucky were a thing - why did he feel like he had something to explain? Hell, he could still be dating the girl and you’d be... fine with it. Yes, it’d be perfectly fine. Why wouldn’t it be? You hated having to tell yourself that you and Bucky were only friends a hundred times a day, but it was the only way to stop yourself from overthinking into a mental breakdown.

“Sweets, you okay?” His voice broke you from your trance, and you immediately inched yourself closer to the window of the diner, so your side was no longer pressed against Bucky’s.

His heart sunk at the loss of warmth from you, but he guessed he sort of deserved it. God, why hadn’t he told you before?

“I’m fine, James.” James. That’s how he knew he had fucked up.

“(Y/N)-”

“Excuse me, can we order now, please?” You pretended not to hear Bucky, leaning your elbows onto the table and interrupting Steve and Peggy’s conversation.

Peggy nodded, grabbing a pen from the pocket of her apron. “Sorry, of course you can. What can I get you all?”

Steve looked a little bummed that he didn’t have more time to talk with her, but your head was crowded with too many questions and thoughts to acknowledge his expression. “Uh, I’ll just get another coffee, thanks.”

“(Y/N), you haven’t touched your first cup.” Steve frowned slightly, glancing at the cup in front of you that was still filled to the brim.

“Oh.” You said weakly, now feeling like a bit of an idiot. “You know, I don’t feel too good. I think I’m just gonna walk home.”

“Are you sure? I can give you a ride if you want, (Y/N).” Sam offered.

I think you’ve done enough, Sam - Bucky thought to himself. He knew it was his own fault for not telling you about Natasha, but it would’ve been helpful if Sam hadn’t blurted it out in your presence.

“Thanks, Sam, but it’s okay. I think i just need some fresh air.” You turned to the side, not fully looking at Bucky as you spoke to him. “Could I get out of the booth, please?”

“I’ll go with you, make sure you get home alright.” The boy stated, sliding along and out of the booth. You didn’t even try to tell him not to go with you, because you honestly wanted to talk to him about the whole ordeal. He nodded his head towards Steve and Sam. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Bye guys, and thanks for the coffee, Peggy.” Even though you didn’t drink any of it, you still thanked the waitress while rummaging through your jean pocket, pulling out a five dollar bill and placing it on the table before heading for the exit of the diner, Bucky following quickly behind you.

The cold air hit your body as soon as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, and you crossed your bare arms over your chest, regretting not bringing a jacket out.

Bucky walked next to you, keeping his distance a little, not wanting to make matters worse. He wished he could read your mind, know what you were thinking. You never really got into any sort of dispute with each other, because there had never really been any drama between you two. Bucky didn’t care what he had to do to resolve it, however - he just couldn’t stand you being mad at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?” Your voice startled him, not expecting you to be the one to break the silence. While your eyes were locked on the pavement as you walked, you were listening intently, ready for whatever he had to say after you’d finished speaking. “I know things ended a while before we met, but I thought...”

The boy furrowed his brows, looking down at you. “You thought what, sweets?”

He noticed how you jaw clenched at the pet name, and he regretted letting it slip out. Not the time, Barnes.

“I thought, well- okay. I... I told you about my parents, and how they tend to care more about my grades than how I’m doing; I told Wanda about them too, but I don’t think she really understands, not like you do. And it was important for me to tell you that, because... because sometimes, it’s kinda hard to deal with.” You hated how you were opening up to him. You were supposed to be mad at him. But even then, did you even have the right to be mad? “And I know that this isn’t about me, but what I’m trying to say is that it helps, knowing that you understand what I’m dealing with - it helps me a lot.”

A smile appeared on Bucky’s lips. It felt good hearing that from you, that you felt like he understood you better than your own best friend. That he helped you. Sometimes, he felt like he didn’t help you at all, interrupting you while you studied at the library and absentmindedly flirting with you all the time. If he couldn’t be anything more, he wanted to be... a friend. Even though he felt like the term ‘friends’ didn’t quite fit you and him, he just wanted to be there for you. Even if it hurt him being just that.

“A year is a long time to be with someone, Bucky.” You continued, walking a bit closer alongside him. “It must’ve been an important part of your life, being in that relationship, and I guess I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me stuff.”

“(Y/N), of course I feel like I can tell you things. You know that I trust you more than anyone, right?” Bucky nudged you with his elbow, making you look up at him. Well, now you knew that, and there were those damn butterflies in your stomach again.

“I’m glad, Buck. But if that’s true, why didn’t you ever tell me about Natasha?”

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Bucky began to talk. “Natasha and I... we weren’t good for each other. We went to the same middle school, and I stayed friends with her when she went off to Shield High. We started dating around year later, and it was good at first. I’d never been so close to someone before, you know? I told her things that I’d never even told Steve. And it felt great to have someone I could be so open with. But... it wasn’t like that all the time.”

When Bucky turned his head towards you, he noticed how you were shivering from the icy air. Without saying anything, he removed his leather jacket from around his body and quickly placed it over your shoulders, to which you responded with a thankful smile as you pushed your arms through the sleeves. After nodding at the boy, indicating for him to continue speaking, Bucky let out a breath.

“Sometimes, the girl was... as sour as a lemon. One minute, she’d be listening to my problems as if it was her soul purpose to help me with them. But the next, I wouldn’t hear from her for days. She’d ignore my calls, avoid me on the weekends, and eventually she’d stop being bitter and pretend like everything was right as rain. At one point, I sorta realised that she never opened up to me, and when I tried talking to her about it, she told me I was being ridiculous. It was like... like she was cold, and I burned, you know? It was never gonna work in the long run, and I think she knew that too.

And I never told you because I didn’t want you to think I was... weak.”

Yep, your heart definitely broke when those words left his lips.

“Bucky...” You gazed up at him with sad eyes. “Why would you say that?”

He stared hardly at the ground, unable to meet your gaze. “My mom always used to say that the key to relationships... was commitment. That if you can’t commit to someone through thick and thin, then you ain’t with the right someone. When I ended things with Natasha, I felt like I was taking the easy way out. She was a great girl, and I still really liked her when I broke it off. I thought that maybe if I told you about it all, you’d think I was the type of guy who ended a relationship when things got too hard, when I couldn’t handle the bumps in the road. That’s not how I wanted to be thought of, especially not by you.”

You shook your head, tugging on his arm with your hand to get him to look at you. “Ending a relationship because it’s unhealthy, even when you still have strong feelings for the other person? That doesn’t make you weak, Bucky. Strength is having the self respect to do that for yourself.”

Now you understood Bucky’s reasoning behind keeping Natasha from you. Sure, it broke your heart that he felt like he couldn’t say anything in case you thought of him negatively because of it, but hopefully now he knew that you could never think of him like that.

It took you by surprise when you felt his fingers brushing against the back of your hand, before he slowly laced them with yours, enveloping your cold hand with his warm one.

“Is this okay?” He almost whispered, giving your hand a squeeze.

For a moment, you hesitated. Holding hands with Bucky? Not something you’d ever done before. To some, holding hands might be just an innocent gesture. But to you, it was truly the most intimacy you’d ever experienced - your awful first kiss when you were fourteen was anything but intimate. And because it was with Bucky, the hand holding meant all the more to you.

Glancing between his eyes and his hand wrapped around yours, you nodded before biting back a smile. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

How were you meant to suppress your feelings for him when you were getting weak at the knees from the boy simply holding your hand?You should’ve said no. You should’ve pulled your hand away, and told him it couldn’t happen.

But you didn’t. You didn’t want to. You let yourself be selfish and basked in the comfort of being close to him all the way home. It was silent the rest of the way, but it was pleasant. And when he dropped you back at your front door, you felt like you were a teenage girl in a movie, gazing up at the boy you liked - didn’t like - as if he was some sort of angel.

“Thanks for... listening to me before.” Bucky let go of your hand after giving it a squeeze, but still stood close enough so that your chests were almost touching. “I still feel bad about not telling you about Natasha earlier-”

“It’s no problem, Bucky, really.” You reassured him. Once you were no longer holding hands with him, reality suddenly set in again. Oh, god. What had you done? Now he thought it was okay to hold your hand, which it certainly wasn’t. Nothing more than that could happen. You couldn’t be anything more than friends. You just couldn’t. “And you shouldn’t feel bad - it’s... it’s not like we’re together., it’s not like you had to tell me.”

His eyes darted to the ground, and while you knew that saying that completely ruined the mood, you had to. If he did still have any feelings for you, you couldn’t lead him on and let him believe that you could be together. Even if deep down, that’s what you wanted too, it just wasn’t ever going to work. He’d been in a relationship like that before, and you couldn’t do that to him again.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bucky nodded, slowly inching away from you. “Are you gonna be alright for the rest of the day?”

You couldn’t help the smile forming on your lips at his question. “I’ll be fine, Buck. Thanks for walking me back.”

“S’okay.” He nodded, about to turn around and head off elsewhere. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.” You confirmed, turning to your front door and unlocking it. A weight still felt like it was sitting on your shoulders. Like there was something you needed to say.

“Bucky?” You called over your shoulder, pushing open the door but keeping your eyes on the boy who had stopped in his tracks at you calling his name.

He raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Yeah?”

Letting out an exhale, you locked your eyes with his. “You’re a lot of things, Buck, but weak? That’s far from any of them. Nobody thinks that of you - I know I definitely don’t.”

The boy stayed standing still for a moment, and his gaze never wavered in the slightest. For months, that was what he told himself. That breaking it off with Natasha was selfish, cowardly, even. He was afraid that you’d think the same of him - that was something he never wanted. But somehow, a simple sentence from you miraculously calmed his cluttered thoughts of guilt and insecurity. Somehow, you just had the effect on him.

“That means a lot, sweets.” The sincerity in your words was evident, so much that he felt guilty about not being able to resist making a joke about how nice you were being. “You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

You let out a laugh, your next words flowing from your mouth without a second thought. “You’re special, Bucky, and you don’t need anyone telling you that for it to be true.”

God, what turned you into so much of a sap?

A smirk played on Bucky’s lips. “Maybe, but I actually sorta believe it when it comes from you, doll.”

The sentence brought goosebumps to your skin, which gave you a sudden reminder that the boy’s treasured leather jacket was still wrapping you in warmth. You called out to him again as he began walking off your driveway and onto the sidewalk.

“Hey, don’t you want your jacket back?”

“Keep it; I’ve got too many leather jackets to my name, anyway.”

And so, you were left alone at your door, tugging Bucky’s jacket tighter around your frame, inhaling the scent of his cologne and thinking longingly about the feeling of your hand in his.

He was right when he said that he burned. He burned right through the walls built around your heart and somehow managed to set a fire within your whole body. That wasn’t meant to happen, you weren’t supposed to let it happen. But you did, and now...

Now, you were well and truly, fucked.

* * *

Series Taglist:

@itz-kira @americas-ass-assins

[cobwebsaint]

BLEASE DO THE SPIT FIC

AHHHH YES alright obligatory NSFW warning and link to the original if anybody is compelled to leave some sweet kudos or a comment or anything. The garbage stays under the cut for the sake of your eyeballs and your dash.

[Before we even get into the meat of this mf let it be known I was BULLIED into participating in the Slipknot body fluids garbage trend and I still hate it but god was it all downhill from there. Y’all know who you are. Bitch.]

Corey really did have a hard fucking time shutting up, and it almost always got him in some level of shit. After getting the shit kicked out of him at bars and parties and shows approximately three trillion times, you would have thought he’d learned his lesson. 

He did not. 

[I have never spoken a word that was not true. The Corey Taylor gremlin is just an obnoxious big mouthed creecher. He cannot help thise.]

The man had no off button. He knew it, everybody else knew it— it was just something they all had to live with. Jim especially. Jim signed on for this bullshit every single day.

That was his own fault.

[Ah yes, the birthplace of what is now known as the domestic nightmares AU. I promise I’m actually gonna write it. I have a whole sandbox doc. But point is they’re stupid and they’re gross and they’re boyfriends.]

He was off on some godforsaken tangent again about nothing in particular, which Jim had tuned out a good ten minutes ago. Sometimes he felt a little bad about how easy it’d become to turn Corey to white noise, but then he caught something about what Ted Bundy did right or pounding back all the Kool-Aid at Jonestown (“It’s Flavor-Aid, James.”) and decided it wasn’t such a terrible thing after all. Some things were just better left alone. Letting Corey babble while Jim mindlessly twisted his fingers through his curls was a pretty good option in Jim’s book.

Of course, that was all up until Corey inevitably realized he was being ignored and made it a point to get the spotlight back. 

[In which Jim shares the same emotion towards Corey and his Sagittarius center of attention disease as the rest of us.]

Jim shifted away from the finger that was jabbing him hard in the ribs, pulling a face and looking down at Corey who had propped himself up on his chin, laying on Jim’s stomach. “What’d I do this time? Jesus.”

“You better be thinkin’ about something real fuckin’ important.” 

[Bold of him to assume Jim is experiencing thoughts at all tbh.]

“Oh yeah. Daydreaming about the day you’re finally able to sit and shut up for more than ten seconds.”

[Aren’t we all.]

Corey narrowed his eyes, punching Jim in the side, satisfied with the “Ow!” he earned in response. “You fuckin’ prick. You don’t get to complain.”

“I get to complain the most. Nobody else sitting here listening to you talk about the logistics of having a conjoined twin, y’know. I’ve earned that right fair and square, dude.”

“What, you’re telling me you haven’t thought about how you’d—”

“No.”

“Bullshit.”

[Just in case you were wondering, (you probably weren’t) the gremlin is thinking about how you’d fuck with a conjoined twin.]

Jim rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he still couldn’t hide the dumb little smirk that wanted to tug at the corners of his lips. “God, what the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Corey started up again and Jim immediately cut him off, reaching over to clap a hand over his mouth. “Ah! Don’t. Just. Shut up.”

[Jim: asks that question

Corey: starts telling his entire life story for the sixtieth time that week]

Corey batted Jim’s hand away, pushed himself up, crawling in close enough to swing a leg over Jim, straddling his hips. He leaned in, probably half a millimeter from Jim’s face, hands planted at either side of his head, curls cascading down around him. He was still pretty even when he was being a bastard and it was total bullshit. 

[You’re just mad your dick won’t you stay mad at him, James.]

“Make me.” 

Jim snorted a laugh. “Just say you want me to choke you out and be done with it.”

“Nah, that’s you. ‘Sit on my dick and strangle me, it’ll be great.”

“Don’t make me out to be the fuckin’ pervert when you’re the one begging me to step on your balls,” Jim retorted, barely even batting an eye. 

Corey sat up a little, leering down at Jim and running his tongue over his teeth. Eventually he just resigned to it. “Fair. But you’re still gross.”

[Points were made. There ain’t no winning here lbr.]

“Mhm. Right.” Jim reached up, threading a hand messy through Corey’s hair to bring him into a kiss. “You done bitching yet? Can I go back to only kinda hearing the crazy shit that comes out of your mouth again?”

“Hell no,” he said, shaking his head for that extra touch of dramatic emphasis. “Do you even know who you’re talking to? If you weren’t the size of a goddamn skyscraper I’d swear you just crawled out of whatever pit you came from.”

“Maybe I’m dumb, but I’m not that dumb. The great big mouth will never be silenced.” Jim giggled, bringing a knee up to knock Corey over beside him. He rolled over, pinning him down instead. “Y’know, except maybe when you’ve got a dick shoved in your face. Still making noise, but at least you’re not fuckin’ talking.”

Corey got a look on his face like he’d just reinvented the wheel, squinting his eyes up in a shit-eating grin, and Kill Bill sirens started going off in Jim’s head. No. Nope. We are under attack. This couldn’t be anything good. 

“Okay, but just consider— AND HEAR ME OUT, OKAY?” Corey cut in, watching the idea of interrupting him again flicker through Jim’s head. “What about two dicks? I bet I could fit two dicks in my mouth.”

Well. Huh. Maybe that did have Jim some sort of interested. He sat back a little, looking Corey up and down. “…You have my attention.”

“Listen, I know this chick and—” 

Jim had to laugh, ‘cause Corey thinking he was actually gonna share had to be the funniest goddamn thing to happen to him all week. He didn’t consider himself the jealous type. Maybe a little possessive sometimes. But he had to keep a tight leash on Corey Todd “Himbo” Taylor. Him being certified Awful was what got them into this mess in the first place. Jim just had a bad habit of catching feelings. Whatever, clearly Corey was more than okay with it.

[Yes I did use the word himbo in this fic and no I do not accept criticism. Also a bit of lore is that Corey essentially annoyed the absolute dick out of Jim until he was about ready to commit a murder all as an elaborate plan to get a date.]

“Nope, try that again.”

“Alright, what about Mick or—”

“Is that supposed to be better?” 

Corey groaned, punching Jim in the shoulder. “Why you gotta ruin all the fun? Can’t a dude get his face fucked and not get a bunch of shit for it?”

“Never said you couldn’t,” Jim mused. “But if you think I’m gonna let anybody else have that kind of satisfaction, you’re dead wrong dude. I’m the only one around here who deserves it. Take it or leave it.” 

Corey cocked his head to the side, staring Jim down like he was supposed to take him seriously. Like Jim didn’t already know the answer. Like he didn’t know that Corey was physically incapable of turning down the chance to get his shit rocked, whether it happened the way he wanted it to or not. 

“Fuck you. Fine.”

[Okay so this WHOLE FIC was deadass prompted by that stupid fucking picture of Corey with his fist shoved in his mouth skdjfg. So I was talking to Marina and I was like. Y’know. I bet he could fit two dicks in there. And I just kinda went buck wild. Jim was supposed to split the little bastard’s lips and shove a dildo in there too but that. Did not happen. Maybe someday.]

Content, Jim rolled off of him, got to his feet, and made a ‘well?’ gesture. Corey didn’t move, instead shooting him a look. A challenge.

Still playing that game. Alright.

Jim reached down, twisting Corey’s hair around his fist and dragging him towards the edge of the bed. “Really gonna be stubborn when you’re the one who’s begging for it?” 

“You want it all for yourself, you’re gonna have to work for it.” 

[Sir that is not how this works.]

Smug little fucker. Corey had put him through the same act at least a billion times now but somehow he still managed to find a way to get Jim to want to smack the ego right out of him. 

Corey slipped off the bed, knees buckling without (a ton of) struggle when Jim pushed him towards the floor. He tilted Corey’s head back, getting a firm grip on his jaw. 

“How you manage to be so cute while being such a pain in the ass still fuckin’ blows my mind, y’know.”

A giggle bubbled up in Corey’s chest. He strained against the hand in his hair, trying to wriggle his way out of Jim’s hold. He knew it wasn’t gonna happen, but hey— couple fingerprint shaped bruises never hurt anyone. 

[I didn’t realize how weird the wording here was until after I posted it ngl. Like. He’s angling Corey’s head back by pulling his hair and holding him there by holding his jaw. Just. To clear that up. I’ve been obsessing over this one little line for months cuz it’s a little weird but I Am Not Changing It.]

“You love it. Wouldn’t have put up with me this long if you didn’t. It’s okay, Peach. You can admit I’m hot shit.”

“Shut up, would you?” Jim tugged back, drawing a surprised noise out of Corey that only served to melt back into a laugh. “Jesus.”

“Come on, don’t be so touchy. I’m right.” Corey slid a hand up the inside of Jim’s thigh, pressing his palm into him and grabbing his already half-hard cock through his sweats. “If I’m not, then explain this away. Pavlov ain’t got shit on me.”

Nah. Nope. That was more than enough out of him. Jim wrenched Corey’s hand away, taking his hands off him just long enough to shove his sweats and boxers down and free his cock. “Open. And hands to your fuckin’ self.”

[SEE HE JUST MAD HIS DICK ENTERS THE CHAT EVERY TIME COREY’S BEING A LITTLE BITCH.]

Thankfully, that was the one thing that Corey didn’t try and fight. He leaned his head back, opened his mouth, and locked his gaze with Jim’s. Stupid pretty blue eyes practically sparkling, knowing damn well he got Jim good. Fuck. Asshole couldn’t turn it off for a second, could he? 

Jim grabbed him, holding him in place as he guided his dick into his mouth. Warm and wet and fucking perfect as always. This little shit was gonna give him a heart attack some day, he just knew it. 

He started off slow, watching Corey melt into it. Eyes fluttering shut, cheeks hollowing out around him, hands clasped behind his back. Tongue laving expertly around the head of Jim’s cock like it was second nature. Hot shit was a stretch, but hot was a different story. 

“Fuck yeah, that’s good,” Jim groaned, hand anchored on the back of Corey’s head as he rolled his hips into his mouth. “All bark and no bite. Think it would be easier to just say you wanna get used like a toy. Least you’re good at it.”

Corey made a pleased noise, leaning into it, taking Jim’s length deeper. He opened his eyes again, looking up at Jim through his lashes and whining softly. A plea for more. More ‘cause he was a greedy little bastard. 

Jim took the cue, snapping his hips forward, tightening his grip. He heard Corey sputter around him a bit, which only served as further encouragement. He fucked into his mouth in quick, deep thrusts, Corey practically going limp before him. The heat, the way Corey pressed his tongue against the underside of his cock, face contorting a bit every time Jim’s dick hit the back of his throat. Jim was already wrapped tight around the axel but god, it was too pretty of a sight to give up this early in the game. 

Even if it was giving Corey exactly what he was trying for— a happy Corey was a quiet Corey.

Or quieter.

[Ha.]

When Jim let up to let Corey catch his breath, he probably lost about half his brain cell count. Drool running down his chin, lips pink and swollen, crystal eyes brimming with tears— Corey looked practically ethereal. Like, fuck wings and halos. This was as close to angelic as someone could get and Jim fucking loved it. Shit. 

[He do be pretty tho. Also idk where the sudden religious imagery came from but like. I sure did stick with it huh. Whatever it works.]

Jim dragged his thumb over Corey’s bottom lip, breaking strings of spit that connected with his cock. He hooked his thumb under Corey’s chin, slipping two long fingers in his mouth and pressing down on his tongue. 

Corey closed around them, running his tongue between them before bobbing his head and taking them deeper. He moaned around the digits, shifting on his knees a little like he wanted to buck his hips into something that wasn’t there.

Satisfied, Jim retracted his fingers, rubbing them over Corey’s lips and chin and smearing spit across his face while he caught his breath. Jesus fucking Christ. He was feeling more and more like a ticking time bomb by the minute here, and Corey’s stupid obnoxious pretty blissed out face was doing him no favors. 

[At this point I was like. Hmmm. How many different ways can I ruin this stupid little rat’s entire career. This is really just the everything but the kitchen sink fic.]

No matter how good and perfect and fucked up and fucking slutty he looked down on his knees, taking whatever he was given, that didn’t change a damn thing. He was still the same terrible little demon that Jim knew and loved for some godforsaken reason. 

[THEY’RE IN LOVE!!!]

“‘S that it?” he rasped out, in between heavy breaths he knew he was gonna need to savor.

Nevermind. Jim was gonna kill him. Like, absolutely decimate him. 

[I WANT THAT TWINK OBLITERATED]

He thrust back into Corey’s mouth, finding the same fast pace as before. Haphazardly pulling Corey into it, meeting every rut of hips, making him struggle more this time around. Jim watched him squirm, nails biting into his wrists, but they stayed where they were locked behind his back. 

This was that sweet spot, where Corey felt filthy and used and amazing all wrapped up into one. Sure, he could ask for it, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun. All the back and forth was part of the game that made the end goal that much sweeter. And yes, he was terrible and loved every minute of bugging the shit out of Jim until he finally snapped. It got him the attention, didn’t it?

[I started to veer off into this sort of perspective shift thing and I didn’t know how I felt about it while I was writing it but honestly I really like how it made the story flow.]

He was worlds away for a while, reduced to nothing more than a hole to be filled while Jim fucked his face. All moans and sloppy wet sounds, soaking up every little sensation— stingy pain of his hair being pulled, jaw starting to ache, cock fucking throbbing and leaking a wet spot into his boxers every time he got the least bit of friction. Jim thought Corey was an angel and this was most definitely heaven. 

Of course, Corey only stayed on cloud nine for so long. Jim hit the back of his throat again, holding him there this time. He only gagged a little at first, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. Corey’s eyes shot open and he whimpered around him, but Jim stayed put.

The second wave was worse, and he finally had to unclasp his hands and bring them up to grip onto Jim’s hips— his sign to let up.

Jim let go and pulled back just in time for a full body wretch to hit Corey. He doubled over, bracing himself on his hands, thick, stringy deepthroat spit dripping from his mouth. He hung his head, breathing hard, and Jim felt his cock twitch. 

[Don’t @ me I had just been subjected to not one but SEVERAL puke fics and I was feeling an emotion okay.]

“Oh fuck me,” Jim said out loud, because Jim was a gross horny fool. 

He knelt down, laying his hand against Corey’s cheek, making him lift his head again. He looked positively ruined. Eyes red, cheeks tear stained, whole mouth wet and well used, the front of his shirt starting to go sheer from all the drool. God, all Jim wanted to do was kiss him.

“Good?” Jim asked, and Corey gave a weak nod. Jim moved in a little closer. “Hey, talk to me. You okay? Need to stop?”

“Yeah, ‘m good,” Corey sighed, leaning his forehead against Jim’s. “Don’t wanna stop, no. Was into it, trust me.” He let go of a gravelly laugh, “Just gimme a minute.”

Jim nodded his head, running his thumb along the curve of Corey’s jaw. “Fuckin’ pretty, y’know.”

[Oh no they’re sweet.]

“Peach?”

“Mmm?”

“Shut up. Don’t just look at me like that. You look dumb.”

[Nvm.]

Jim rolled his eyes, “You shut up.” He curled his hand around the back of Corey’s neck and closed what little gap was left between them with a kiss. He tasted like cigarettes and salt and skin and it made Jim’s head spin and his stomach do backflips. Which I mean, was definitely due in part to the fact that his dick was cocked and ready to blow like a shotgun straight through the wall next to him. But Corey— the feel of his skin and the taste on his tongue and his weight on top of Jim when he was being dumb and pretty and needy and refusing to be anything less than the center of attention— well, that never helped Jim’s case. 

Soft little whimpers from Corey were muffled into Jim’s mouth, hands sliding around his broad frame and hiking his shirt up so Corey could trace over the curve of Jim’s spine. Little bit of contact, closeness that was lost when it wasn’t Jim balls deep inside of him. This was okay though. More than okay, fucking fantastic. Good to the point that Corey didn’t even try and fight when Jim pulled away. Especially not when he tugged his head back, making him look up at the ceiling as he licked a stripe from the very bottom of his chin, back to his lips. He kissed him again, like he needed to be attached at the mouth to survive, tongue easily gaining entry into Corey’s mouth and pulling more throaty moans from him. 

[Jk they’re still gross and in love.]

It was over all too quickly, Corey making a sound in protest as Jim pulled away from him and rose to his feet again. Jim yanked his head back, catching his lower lip with his thumb, mouth falling open once more. Before the thought even had the chance of passing through Corey’s mind of what the hell— Jim was bent over him, holding him in place as he spit into his mouth. Or rather back into his mouth. 

Oh. Shit. Alright. 

[Again, everything but the kitchen sink here boys.]

Several emotions flashed across Corey’s face before he settled in at acceptance, staring up at Jim with big, glazed over eyes as he towered over him.

“You want more?”

Corey nodded a very enthusiastic yes.

“Gonna be a good boy for me?”

That was met with some hesitation, knit brows and a shrug of the shoulders like he was weighing his options. Jim just shook his head. “If you’re gonna be a shit, then you can do it your damn self now. Prove you deserve it.”

Corey shot him a look, but he didn’t exactly try and argue. Wouldn’t be the first time he sucked a dick to make a point. Definitely not the last either. He sat up on his knees, wrapping his hand around Jim’s length, working him in slow, even strokes as he teased his tongue over the head. Jim about had an aneurysm from the looks of it and Corey couldn’t help but giggle. 

Jim knocked his knuckles against the side of Corey’s face. Not hard enough to hurt, but still enough to make him knock it the fuck off.

Stupid slut. 

[This still makes me giggle. Like you bap a fucking cat on the nose dksgdfj.]

Sucking the tip of Jim’s dick into his mouth, Corey gave a contented hum. He bobbed his head up and down, keeping pace with his hand, Jim lazily tracing his fingertips over the stubble on his cheeks. He mumbled a string of praise— ‘fuck yeah, baby’ and ‘so fucking good’ and ‘shit, just like that.’ Caught up and fucked up all over again. Corey Taylor was a bastard and Jim wasn’t about to give him up for a goddamn thing. 

Corey pulled off of him with a filthy ‘pop,’ wasting little time between then and ducking his head down to tongue at Jim’s balls. For what had to be the billionth time in the past ten minutes, Jim was briefly convinced he was going to leave this earth entirely. It was all he could do, to watch dumbly as Corey worked from left to right, sucking and moaning and swirling his tongue in just the right way to make Jim’s dick visibly twitch in his hand 

“Jesus fuck, baby.”

Jesus fuck, indeed. He was already seeing stars and he still hadn’t come yet. Here he was, giving the incentive of more when his knees were about to buckle. Who’s the jackass now?

[Me: writing oral sucks it’s always awkward and repetitive

Also me: stretches the oral to 5k]

Jim’s head fell back as Corey worked his way back up his length, running his tongue along the underside of it before damn near hilting him on his first try. He choked a little, pulling back to center himself before he tried again. Obscene sounds and lascivious moans filled the air, Jim’s eyes squeezed shut as he focused on the heat burning in the pit of his stomach. All he needed was a minute or two and to watch Corey’s eyes roll back in his skull to be pulled taut and ready to snap at any second. 

“Fuck me, I’m so close. Come on baby, don’t stop. Know you want it too.” Jim’s hand had found its way to the back of Corey’s head again, forcing him further down, finding that perfect rhythm again. Call it a sign of encouragement. Or something. 

Yeah, encouragement.  

Corey worked him as hard as he could, sucking and licking and slurping and swallowing him whole until the vibrations from one final groan around Jim’s cock brought all these sensations to a crescendo. Jim held him down as he came hard, spilling down his throat, swearing and gritting his teeth. Corey nursed him through, sucking him slow as Jim’s arms and legs turned to jello. Watching through his lashes as he tensed and moaned, breathing in sharp, ragged inhales until he finally had to shove Corey away ‘cause shit. 

Jim sighed heavily, pushing his hair back and out of his face, staring down at the stupid cocky look on Corey’s face. Were he able to form a coherent thought, he would have taken his ego down a notch— unfortunately, mentally he was still somewhere off in orbit. Without being entirely aware of his own actions, Jim was grabbing Corey by the collar and getting him back up off his knees. He shoved his hands underneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips studying inches of skin, the hair on his stomach, sides damp with sweat, every bump and imperfection before finally pulling the ratty spit-soaked tee over his head. 

[And to your left, you see Service Top Brain immediately taking control the second Jim no longer has enough brain cells to resist it.]

He pulled Corey to him, hands on his waist as he backed up to the bed, knees giving way when they hit the edge of the mattress. Jim hit the bed and laid back, bringing Corey down with him and directly into a kiss. Strong arms circled around Corey’s frame, bodies pressed snug, mouths melded together as one. Whatever post-nut trance Jim was in, it was perfectly fine by Corey. This was close and safe and comfortable and I mean, with the way Jim was rocking him against his stomach, you weren’t gonna hear much more than the sound of his brain cells popping like balloons ‘cause his dick was taking up all the blood flow. 

[They may be stupid but you gotta admit. They are pretty tender too.]

A high pitched whine that (it was safe to assume) was supposed words fell from Corey’s lips as Jim’s connected with the center of his chest. He had pulled away panting, working his way down— mouthing at Corey’s jaw, nipping at his earlobe, leaving a trail of hickeys down his neck. Maybe it had caught Corey off guard a little, not getting told off for being a shit and all, but any and all attention was welcome here with open arms. 

“Fuck, Jim c’mon,” he barely managed to gasp out. Forming sentences wasn’t about to be the first to go. He had a reputation to uphold here. “Better not start messin’ with me now.”

Teeth clinked against metal, Jim tugging on the ring through his right nipple and ripping all the thoughts straight from his brain for a moment. He swirled his tongue over the hardening flesh before biting down. Corey shivered and bit back a moan, pain radiating through him and twisting up in his gut. Like he wasn’t already prepared to implode as is. “Mother fucking Mary. Now you’re just making it a point to be a dick. Nobody likes a tease, Peach.”

[Also calling Jim peach is Corey’s thing in this universe. It’s gross. And soft. They’re the worst.]

Nothing. Not even an upwards glance. 

Corey wanted to scream. He wanted to slam his fist down on the bed, call Jim some new variant on ‘cunt,’ fight back, take control. But he also really didn’t want this to stop. He was so hard it fucking hurt and Jim had him right in the palm of his hand where he could barely keep his head straight and honestly? He was perfectly fine sitting right there. He was probably just missing some cue. Off by a beat and too whiny and stubborn to realize it. (Which he was. Corey never claimed to be smart. Especially not when his lizard brain was kicked into overdrive and all he could think about was getting split in half.) 

[He’s so STUPID. God. Bratty ass dumbass.]

While the idea was pretty appealing, he couldn’t even begin to collect the agency he’d need for any of that anyway. There was now a hand dangerously high up on his thigh, thumb tracing line where it met his hip, and there was no goddamn way he was gonna be able to focus on anything else. 

So Jim still did want him dead. Cool. 

“God baby, what do you want?” Corey whined, raking his nails over Jim’s chest, watching red marks appear in their wake. “I wasn’t even that bad. Did everything you wanted, barely even gave you shit. What, you want me to get you off again? ‘Cause I can do that. I’ll gladly do that if it gets you to quit fucking dragging me along. I’ll do all the work and fuck you myself if I gotta. Could smash my face into a wall and call me a soul sucking whore for all I care. Jesus Christ, just give me more.”

[YOU’RE SO CLOSE YET SO FAR BUD.]

Jim’s fingertips dipped into the elastic of Corey’s boxers, dragging across the front between his hips, just barely brushing against his cock before the waistband snapped back against his skin. Corey yelped, heels of his palms digging into Jim’s collarbones. He had no doubt Jim was thoroughly enjoying this, but the joke wasn’t all that funny anymore. Wasn’t very funny to begin with, actually. 

“Fuck me, Peach please. Please, I’ll do fucking anything. Just quit doing that.”

Suddenly Corey’s back was against the sheets again, Jim sliding back off the bed to tear his boxers down and toss them in some vague direction (he was only really going for away.) He nudged Corey’s legs apart and kneed back up between them, fingers curling around his cock. Corey’s hips immediately jerked up into the contact and he let out a hiss. Good god, he was so fucking sensitive he wanted to die. He made a noise that sounded more like a sob than anything, grabbing at Jim’s wrist. If he stopped he was going to scream but if he kept it up Corey was about to be launched into space and land on fucking Neptune. 

“Was that really so hard?” Jim questioned, and yeah. Maybe it was. Getting Corey to ask nice instead of being a colossal brat was like pulling teeth from an alligator. Fortunately for Jim, he was currently on a one way flight to the next realm. It was a little harder to keep all that up in the moment. 

Another “please” was all Corey managed— clearly asking for something else, something more— but Jim couldn’t just let him have that. 

“See, now you’re getting the hang of it!”

[Jim: See I can be an asshole too]

Corey snaked his arms around Jim’s neck, pulling him down to eye level. “Is it your goal in life to be a giant fucking pain in the ass?”

[Yes. That and buy a bike.]

“As much as it is yours, baby.” Jim laughed, nuzzling against Corey’s cheek. He mouthed little kisses against his jaw, slowly stroking him, pulling a frustrated growl from somewhere deep in his chest. 

He clawed at Jim’s shoulders, threading his hand through Jim’s hair and tugging back hard. More than anything, he was just trying to keep himself some semblance of centered. It wasn’t working very well. “Fucking hell. More, give me more. Give me your hands.”

Jim lifted his gaze, meeting Corey’s eyes, staring at him blankly. 

“Please.”

The grip around Corey’s cock let up and he groaned again at the loss of friction. It was gonna take next to nothing to make him fall apart. Callused fingers fingers slip up his torso and caught on his bottom lip, still kissed and swollen. “I’ll do that for you, but you might have to remind me how you earned it.”

Corey barely let him finish before he had his lips wrapped around two digits, working his tongue along them. He held onto Jim’s wrist, forcing them back and making himself gag hard. At this point, he didn’t care what it took. Besides, it was either keep his mouth busy or run it anyway. He flashed a look back up at Jim, batting his lashes and making sure to give him a little show before finally pulling off and kissing his fingertips. Is that wasn’t enough, then he didn’t know what the fuck would be.

And thank fucking buddha Jim’s mouth was enveloping his own just a moment later, one of his thighs being pushed back for a better angle and some leverage as Jim’s other hand slid between his legs. Slick fingers pressed against his entrance, drawing a pathetic noise from his throat, his legs twitching in eager anticipation. 

The first eased in, sunk home, and Corey could have sworn he saw the light in that moment. Glitter and gold and pearly gates, fluffy white clouds, and giant fucking bearpaw hands that were holding his entire fucking being in their palms. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that— Jim being that big. I mean sure, his dick alone could take out a whole city easily, but it was all of him. Limbs and chest and hips and hands. Oh good god, his hands. Say what you want about how dumb and awkward he was otherwise, but he always knew exactly what he was doing with his hands. 

[HE DO BE LANKY AND AWKWARD. Also I still can’t help but think of how weird his hands are. Like they’re so SMALL in proportion to the rest of him but they’re still HUGE. James what the fuck is that shit.]

 Corey moaned into the mouth locked with his own as Jim started to pump in and out of him, the stretch nearly impossible feeling for just one finger. Maybe it was that he was already desperate, ready to burst, that had him so beyond himself. Maybe it was just the fact that Jim knew exactly how to poke and prod to make him start to come apart at the seams. 

He started to relax more, lean into it (or as best as he could with the weight on top of him.) Steady chants of ‘yes, yes, yes, more, fuck’ swarmed around whatever little bubble they’d been encapsulated in. Corey practically had Jim in a chokehold, holding him down as close as he could possibly get, foreheads pressed together. Completely and totally consumed. 

Another finger worked inside him, curling and twisting and scissoring him open, making him flutter around them and writhe to find just the right— 

“There, there. Don’t you dare stop. Holy shit.” Corey cried out, arching up off the mattress, holding onto Jim for dear life. “So fucking good. Feels so fucking good.”

Jim brushed his fingertips against Corey’s walls again, hitting that sweet spot and eliciting another borderline embarrassing moan. “Yeah, that’s it. Not so tough like this, are you? Fight so hard to get what you want and you still come undone for me just the same. Real good when you want to be, y’know.”

Whatever Corey wanted to say came out in an incoherent mumble— something something for you and something something damn lucky. His orgasm was already twisting and burning in the pit of his stomach, and his was still only very loosely tied to this realm. Beyond taken and fucked up and he loved every minute of it. 

[Fighting to the very end, even with fingers in his ass. Just shut up already you stupid slut.]

He couldn’t take his eyes off Jim as he wormed his way out of his grasp, sat back, spread his legs a little wider apart. He leaned down, and Corey was vaguely aware of him spitting before he felt like he was being properly split in two. A third digit joined the other two. God, it was almost too much. Impossibly full and tight and overwhelming, all thanks to James and his inhumanely big hands that were surely going to be Corey’s cause of death here one of these days. 

Corey couldn’t even breathe now, squeaking out another little plea for more, honed in on Jim like a deer in headlights. He knotted his hands up in the sheets, finally able to roll his hips and fuck himself against Jim’s hand without him pinning him in place. The blood rushing through his ears still wasn’t quite loud enough to drown out Jim’s encouragement— “So good, so pretty, look at you, perfect little slut. All mine. Come on baby, let me see you come.” 

That alone was enough to make Corey’s eyes roll back in his head, but one last perfect angle of his hips was what finally sent him over the edge. He came so hard his vision went fuzzy, limbs giving out as he spilled over his stomach and cried out, “Oh god, fuck daddy.”

[THERE IT IS. One of the terrible influences who shall not be named popped into my DMs like “Consider: unnegotiated honorary in a moment of carnal horny and then Jim just straight up CACKLES” and I was like well. Guess That’s Getting Throw In The Pile Too.] 

There was a minute of blank, overwhelmed and far away and completely beyond himself. Jim milked him through it, still working his fingers in and out as the aftershocks made him twitch and whimper, until he started to come back down again. Actually, the only thing that snapped him back to the here and now was realizing that Jim was laughing. Not just laughing, giggling like a goddamn school girl. 

You had to be fucking kidding. 

Corey reached out, attempting to smack him but missing entirely. “Fuck’s so funny?”

“Daddy? Dude. You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding right?” Jim dissolved into another fit of laughter, eyes scrunched up in a big grin. 

“Shut up. Shut your fucking mouth now. You don’t get to hold the shit I say when I come against me.” Corey huffed, sitting up on his elbows and trying to scoot away. Unlucky for him, Jim was still big enough to lean over him again and still be eye level. 

He pushed Corey’s hair back, pressing a kiss to his lips with a deep chuckle. “Quit your whining. You alright?”

Corey rolled his eyes, collapsing with a sigh and (albeit begrudgingly) circling his arms around Jim’s neck. “Mmm, peachy. Just shut up and cuddle me, you fucking demon. And you tell no one about that.”

[ANYWAY. This fic took me like three wholeass months or something so I hope it was worth it. There’s also a coinciding playlist that goes with this beast if you click on the AO3 link back at the top. Thank you for reading this disaster.] 

[crashdevlin]

Dinner and Dancing- 3: Bandwagon

Part One... Part Two

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3. Set post Civil War, pre-Infinity War. *Gifs are not mine.* Summary: Reader tracks down Steve in an attempt to track down Bucky. Bucky’s unreachable but Steve is more than happy to step into his shoes. Pairing(s): Steve Rogers/Reader Word Count: 3373 Story Warnings: sick baby, little bit of angst, romanipien (that gypsy soul/pick up and leave thing), oral sex (female and male receiving), naughty sketches, Little bit of angst, a lot of pining, the baby’s a cockblock… and so’s Bucky. Chapter Warnings: pining, slight angst because of Bucky, meddling Avenger friends

Steve sat in a chair with a book in front of him. His eyes were not on the papers, though. His eyes were across the lounge area where y/n was sitting on a barstool pulled up to the counter, reading a magazine.

"Man, you're starin' at her, again." Sam said, clapping his hand on Steve's well-muscled shoulder.

Steve looked down at the book he was supposed to be reading, but he couldn't focus on the words, looking at y/n out of the corner of his eyes. He couldn't help it that his eyes always seemed to linger on her. Her face was magnetic. Her smile, addictive. He, honestly, couldn't fathom what was going through Bucky's mind when he left her lying alone in his bed, probably naked and-

Steve closed his eyes and shook his head. He didn't need to think of her like that. That's his best friend's best girl.

"This is gonna be like Sharon, isn't it?" Sam brought attention to himself again as he sat in the chair across the coffee table from Steve. "You're not going to make your move until way late in the game when you know you ain't gonna see her again for a long-ass time."

"Sam." Steve quietly chastised as he closed his book.

"What'd Sharon say when you finally kissed her? 'Overdue'? And then you never saw her again."

He sat forward and lowered his voice, eyes flicking to y/n and Wanda. "She's Bucky's girl, Sam."

"Pretty sure she's not, Steve. Barnes left her. She's been raising his kid with her brother because he was too much of a bitch to Dad up." Sam leaned forward, too. "Look, I don't hide how I feel about him. He's an unstable, dangerous dickhead and he ruined my damn car, but that's not why I'm sayin' this. I'm sayin' it because your boy Barnes had a month with her and ran off after three weeks because he didn't want to deal with 'Goodbye', didn't step up when she tried to tell him about that kid, but you did. Man, you treat that boy like he's yours and you want to treat her like she's yours, too. I can see it in your eyes."

Steve sighed and shook his head. "She's still got a thing for him. When she talks about him..."

"Man, when you talk about him, it sounds like you've got a thing for him." Sam interrupted. "That woman is perfect for you and you know it. Do I gotta get Wanda to dig into your heads, pull out your desires so that you can see-"

"I don't need Wanda to show me what I desire." Steve sat back and let his eyes fall on her again. She was excitedly pointing to something in a magazine. Her smile was radiant. "But, what I want isn't what's important."

"What about what she deserves? An upstanding, righteous, good man who wants to take care of her and her son. A damn American hero. Not in 1945. Now. She deserves a man like you. She deserves you."

"But she loves Bucky."

"I don't think she does. I think she was infatuated, that she had a hero complex for him because he saved her life, but you don't fall in love over three weeks and a couple black and white movies. You fall in love over life. Real love takes time, effort, and overcoming obstacles instead of running away from them. Cap, you are all about time, effort and overcoming obstacles. Your biggest obstacle here..." Sam stood, forcing Steve to look up at him. "...is yourself."

Steve opened his book again and tried to read, but he couldn't. Instead, the argument started up in head again. He'd had this argument with himself a dozen times since she walked up to him and recited her name, just with slightly more emotional attachment to call on as the time went by.

One side of the argument said everything he'd just heard from Sam: Bucky left, didn't answer her, he was happy that she was going back to America and didn't even stay until the day she got on her plane. Bucky didn't want to settle down in the first place.

The other side of the argument was... falling apart the longer he spent in her presence: Bucky was his best friend. Bucky always had his back, even when he didn't want him to. Bucky fell off a mountain and was tortured and became the Winter Soldier because of him. It would be a low thing to come in while Bucky's in cryo and take his girl, the one he'd spoken so highly of. Bucky was most important, no matter how he feels about her, no matter how he feels about George. Heck, he could help take care of George without being with y/n, right? And that would be honoring Bucky, to take care of his son, wouldn't it?

Of course, it wasn't just about George and he couldn't lie to himself about that.

*********

You looked across the room at Steve, reading his book. "Someday, he's going to look up and see you staring at him." Wanda said, slipping onto the stool next to you.

You looked down, embarrassed. "No, I've got a plan for that. I just look away really fast."

"Why are you embarrassed that you're attracted to Steve?"

You could feel your face turn red. "I'd thank you to stay out of my head, Wanda." You said, flipping your Game Informer open to a review of the newest Nintendo handheld.

"I don't need to be in your head, Y/n. I have eyes." She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it for a moment, staring at you. "Is it because of Sergeant Barnes?"

"He's Bucky's best friend."

"So? Barnes isn't here, y/n. He didn't want to be. You were his ideal because you were leaving, because he didn't have to worry about anything real developing. As soon as you considered staying, as soon as you became real, he disappeared. Steve lives in the real world. He likes the real things. He likes being depended on. He likes problems because he likes overcoming them. The only fight he's ever backed down from was when he almost let Winter Soldier kill him in an attempt to jog Barnes' memories."

"And that says more about why we're not going to be able to make it past the obstacle than anything, because Bucky is the obstacle and Bucky is of utmost importance for Steve."

"I think, if you worked together, you could get past it." Wanda said, before pointing at the Nintendo Switch ad in the magazine. "I think we need one of these."

"That'd be awesome. We should set up a gaming room! I've got a bunch of board games in a box somewhere, and in another box, I've got a bunch of old video game consoles! Oh, my gosh! That's a great distraction!"

"PlayStation or XBOX?"

"Both, also Wii. I never bought into the whole console wars. I just waited 'til i could find 'em used or super cheap and bought all of 'em."

"Now you're going to ignore your feelings via video games." Wanda said, matter-of-factly.

"Yup!" You said, jumping down from the stool and heading to George's closet where your still-packed boxes were stored.

The next morning, you came into the kitchen with George in a baby sling and smiled at everyone. "I set up a game room yesterday. Cards, board games and 12, count 'em 12, different video game consoles. It's the room that was empty next to Georgie's, so... If anyone's interested..."

Clint walked out of the kitchen immediately, bowl in hand, spoon in his mouth. Natasha followed, calmly. You grabbed a pack of Poptarts out of the cabinet and  headed back toward the game room. "Nat, I don't wanna be player two. Nobody wants to be Luigi." Clint's whining could be heard down the hall.

"Shoulda got here first."

"I did get here first! You stole the controller when I turned my back to put down my stupid cereal. Come on! Let me be Mario."

"When I die."

"You're a bitch."

"So are you." Natasha said, as Super Mario World music started to fill the room.

"Well, I didn't mean to start fights." You said, sitting at the card table and pulling open the Poptarts. "This was supposed to be fun."

"Oh, don't worry. You didn't start this fight. This is ongoing." Natasha responded, turning her head to look at you, but continuing to play. She jumped on several Koopa Troopas while her head was turned.

"Yeah. Every time we play anything, she's gotta be first. Shit, she's even Player 1 when we play Pong." Clint complained.

"You did all of this since last night?" Steve asked, looking around at the games and consoles. "You're amazing."

"I'm aware." You smiled, grabbing a box of playing cards and tossing it to him. "What kinda card games you know, Army?"

He chuckled. "I know poker." He offered, opening the box and sitting down across from you. He shuffled the deck easily.

"I've never played. Wanna teach me?"

"If we're doin' poker, we need to play with Monopoly money, 'cause we ain't having a replay of Cap's birthday." Sam said, dropping into the chair next to you.

"What happened?"

"Stark threw a July 4th bash and Maria Hill conned me into playing poker."

"She didn't con you, Sam. She offered, you accepted. She beat you, and me and Clint and Tony, fair and square." Steve responded with a smirk.

"Whatever, man. She hustled us." Sam said, as Wanda sat down with a fistful of multicolored dollars.

"Just because you fell for her saying 'What is a Full House again', doesn't mean she hustled you. You should have known she could play."

"I barely knew the woman! Whatever. Gimme some pink lettuce." Sam demanded.

Wanda handed out an even amount of Monopoly dollars to everyone, while Steve shuffled the cards. You lost. Badly. Between not knowing what you were doing, listening to Clint and Natasha bicker over the Nintendo, giving attention to the baby in the sling across your chest, and the nervous pit that grew bigger every time you locked eyes with Steve, Wanda and Sam cleaned you out of your play cash in no time. You bowed out of the game with a smile and headed across the hall to your room. About 15 minutes later, Steve was walking down the hall. "They busted you, too, huh?"

"I'm 90% certain Wanda's cheating. She's just too good, ya know." Steve smiled, leaning against your door frame. "Thank you for setting up that room. We haven't had much to do since we've been... criminals, and half of the comedy left when Scott did, so... distractions are welcome."

"That was the point. Crazy underground bunker gets a bit..."

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Yeah. Hey, uh, when you get a minute... I, uh, dug out some of my old sketch books, if you-"

"Definitely." You stood, quickly bending down to pick up Georgie from his bouncer. You followed Steve to his office, where a stack of books sat on his desk. Steve took George from your arms and you picked on up. It was full of sketches of the things and people around him, some very detailed and lifelike, some purposely cartoonish caricatures. "These are really good, Steve. You have such a mastery of shadow."

Steve blushed, but you barely noticed as you ran your fingers across an almost photographic sketch of Natasha's face. You flipped a few pages until you got to a picture of Tony Stark looking lovingly into Pepper Potts' eyes. "I really like that one. Tony looked so human in that moment. I had to sketch it." He smiled. "This was at the July 4th party. They didn't know I was watching. I took a quick picture with my phone and drew that after I got home. I was gonna give it to them if Tony ever got around to popping the question."

"You'll have to send it to them. It's perfect."

"Well, I don't know about 'perfect'."

"Please, everything about you's perfect." You said, nonchalantly. You continued through the sketches, studying your favorites before moving on to the next. When you got to the bottom of the stack, you looked over at him. He was doing 'tummy time' on the floor with George. "Are you not drawing, anymore? These books, the latest date is two years ago, almost."

"Uh, no, I-I am, it's just..." He got up on his knees and looked over at you. "The sketches in the new book are... not finished." He seemed unsure of that answer.

You chuckled. "Okay, well, when they get finished, you gotta let me see 'em, because you are so good at this."

"Thanks." He said, standing and stepping over George. "Means a lot." You just looked down and smiled.

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

"She's not going to make a move." Wanda said, her eyes on her cards.

"Neither is he. Thinks it'd be a slap in Barnes' face or somethin' to go out with the chick he walked away from. I dunno."

"Well, maybe they need a push." Clint suggested as Mario fell to his death and Natasha wrenched the controller from his fingers.

"This isn't a Rom-com, Clint."

"It could be." Clint turned around, looking at the two at the table, each trying to bankrupt the other of their fake money. "All that really requires is two clueless assholes who don't realize they're perfect for each other, an antagonizing force or event and a couple friends to set them on the right course. I'm pretty sure this is a tailor-made Rom-com situation."

"I'm all for manipulation for the sake of romance, but what could we possibly do to make them stop focusing on Barnes?" Natasha asked, eyes not leaving the screen.

"Well, we could tr-"

"Trapping them in a room together isn't going to work. They've roadtripped together. Twice."

"Okay. Fair point. What if we-"

"Telling one or both that the other is sick or injured would be cruel. They just got done dealing with Georgie's cancer."

"We could-"

"Cap can't get drunk."

"You know what, Nat?! You come up with one!"

"Babysitting." Natasha said, succinctly. "We convince Steve to take her out for some much-needed fun and we offer to babysit."

"Sure. If you wanna go simple with it." Clint grumbled, flopping back down on the couch.

"I'll talk Steve into it, later." Natasha finished.

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

"I'm just sayin' she looks like she needs a break." Natasha looked up at Steve from her spot in his desk chair, her feet up on his desk.

"No, you're just saying that I need to take her out. I didn't take you for a bandwagon person, Natasha." He responded swatting her feet off of his desk.

She shrugged. "Only if the music makes sense, Steve."

"How does me courting Bucky's girl while he's incapacitated make sense?"

"He ghosted her. He left her, let her go through her pregnancy alone. He didn't want her or the whole family thing. You think he'd be upset that you took her out for some fun?"

"Okay, you weren't on our side in Germany so you missed the animated way he spoke about her. He talked about her like she could be his salvation, like she was everything he ever... I've never heard him talk about a woman the way he spoke about her. He 'ghosted' her because he was terrified for her, how his life might end hers. How could I even entertain taking the one thing he's wanted?"

"Easy. You take her out and ignore the frozen guy thousands of miles away."

Steve sighed, heavily. "Bucky's gonna wake up one day, Natasha. How would I explain that y/n came around looking for him and I was taken with her, so I took her from him?"

"You don't. You wouldn't have to. If he cared about her, he'd want her dating a quality guy. He'd want George around good people. If he cared, he'd want you guys together."

"I don't know. It just feels wrong."

"No. It doesn't and that's why you feel guilty." Natasha stood. "Ask her to dinner, Rogers. She's got a bunker full of folks who would love to babysit." She smirked as she walked out of the office.

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

You looked up as Steve walked into the game room. "What are you playing?"

"It's called Crash Bandicoot: Warped. It's... I don't even know how to describe this game."

Steve watched you for a few minutes, before clearing his throat. "So, I was wondering if... if you wanted to come to dinner with me tonight." You turned your head, staring at him in shock. The game over screen was suddenly on the screen because a boulder crashed into you as you stared. "Sorry. Didn't mean to get your... bandicoot killed."

"What did you say?" You whispered, dropping the PlayStation controller on the couch next to you.

"I asked if you wanted to go to dinner with me." He sat next to you, moving the controller out of his way. "There's a restaurant in the Bronx, the original owner was part of the 107. I saved him from HYDRA, so his grandson always has the Chef's Table free for me. We could go in through the back door. He makes the best burgers."

"Uh... are you... are you asking me on a date, Steve?"

He chuckled, running his hand through his hair. "I am. I think we need some time out of the compound and I'd like to spend it with you. If-if you wanted."

You bit your lip. "Of course. I would love to. But what about-"

"Natasha volunteered to babysit." Steve stood. "So... I'll pick you up at your room at 7?" He asked, with a smirk. You nodded, still a bit dumbfounded that he asked you out. "All right. I'll go make our reservations."

"And I'll... go take a... shower." You stood, turning off the PlayStation and heading for your room. Milo knocked on your door as you were trying to figure out something to wear.

"So. He finally asked you out?"

"It's not... I'm sure it's not like that."

"I'm sure you're lying to yourself. Captain America has invited you to dinner. Is not for no reason. Is because he likes you. You like him, too."

You shook your head. "Come on."

"When did you become a pussy?"

"Excuse me?"

"When I met you, you were going for what you want. You weren't lying to yourself about things right in front of your face. Did motherhood soften you so much or are you still holding out hope for James to come back when he ran away from you?"

You took a deep breath. He was kinda right. You wanted Bucky and you went for him. Why should you feel so bad about wanting Steve, especially when Steve obviously wants you, too. "Bucky's a good man. I might be pissed off at him, but what if that's why I'm so receptive to Steve? Maybe I like Steve because he reminds me of Bucky and-"

"You like Steve because Steve is amazing. You'll see after you go on this date with him."

"Maybe. I don't even know what to wear."

"Jeans and the purple blouse."

You sighed, looking at the outfit he picked. "I don't know if that'll work. I don't think it'll fit."

"It'll fit. You've lost most of the pregnancy weight. Go on. Try it on." Natasha showed up at your door. "I'll do your makeup, Wanda can do your hair."

"No. No, no. This is not gonna be a whole big-" You said, shaking your head at the Russian.

"It's a date. You oughta let us help you." Wanda said, pushing into the room with a hairbrush and a curling iron. "We know it's just dinner, but still. You want to look your best."

You took a deep breath. They weren't going to walk away on this. Stubborn Avenger friends. "Fine." You rolled your eyes and sat in your desk chair as the women started to attack you with hair brushes and makeup brushes.

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108 @mogaruke @flamencodiva @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @pisces-cutie @paintballkid711 @natura1phenomenon @rainbowkisses31 @atc74 @alagalaska

[fallen029]

Guidelines

The night before his wedding, the last thing Laxus thought he would be doing was walking home from the market with only the rolls of toilet paper that he needed back at the house. He'd always imagined, if he ever did get forced into marriage somehow, that he'd go out with a bang.

Err, bangs.

Very literal ones.

With a lot of women.

At the same time.

Be something to remember. Something to always look back on.

Then he got involved with the demon.

Sigh.

That was all out the window, of course. Because, as he had slowly come to terms with, they were in love and committed to one another and would never do something so horrible to the other. No way.

Life was complicated.

So as he walked down the street, mumbling his vows for the next morning under his breath (Mira insisted they write their own), he fought hard to act like he wasn't feeling the slight bit nervous.

Oh, but he was. Horribly so.

It wasn't so much that he doubted that he was doing the right thing by marrying Mirajane. No, it wasn't that at all. In fact, he knew that he was. Mira was the one for him. Completely and wholly. He loved her. He was so deeply in love with her that there was no way to ever get back out.

Believe him, he'd tried.

But nope. No cigar. He was marrying the she-devil. It was just the way it had to be. He-

"The hell?" Laxus growled as, suddenly, someone jumped him from behind. Easily flinging them off his back, he got ready to attack.

"Ow! Laxus!"

"L-Lisanna?" He relaxed almost immediately. "Wha- Hey!"

He was hit then, rather roughly in the shoulder. And sure enough, there was Elfman, the other male looking discouragingly at Laxus.

"A real man wouldn't hurt a little girl."

"She attacked me! And hit me again, Elfboy, and I'll-"

"I'm not a little girl," Lisanna complained from where she still sat on the sidewalk, rubbing at her head. "But that did hurt, Laxus."

"I'm sorry, kid," he sighed then, leaning down to help her up. Elfman beat him to it though, easily getting his baby sister back on her feet. "I didn't know it was- And hey; the hell you idiots think you're doing, surprising me like that?"

"We came to talk to you," Elfman told him after making sure that Lisanna was okay. "And we didn't want you to get away!"

"Why would I try and-"

"We're here to discuss Mirajane."

Laxus blinked. "Is something wrong with her?"

"Considering she's marrying you? We think so."

"Elfman," Lisanna complained, taking to crossing her arms then. "And no, Laxus. That's not it."

"Then-"

"You're marrying our big sister tomorrow," Elfman began again. "And we've kept quiet for far too long!"

"Uh, no, you haven't," Laxus said. "You bellyache about it all the time. Less like a man and more like, oh, what's the word? A boy?"

"Hey-"

"We just want to go over some ground rules," Lisanna said, glaring at him. "That's all."

"Ground rules?" He blinked. "Me and the demon have been basically livin' together for six months now, but now you wanna lay these on-"

"Number one," Lisanna began as Laxus only shook his head and started walking once more. They were quick to follow. "We come first."

"Always," Elfman agreed.

"Isn't this something you should take up with the demon herself? Or-"

"Until you guys start pooping out babies."

"Elfman," Lisanna giggled.

"What?"

"You said pooping."

"Isn't that what people say?"

"Popping," she corrected. "You pop out a baby. You don't poop it out."

"I understand the anatomy behind it, Lisanna," he complained. "But the saying is-"

"The saying is popping."

"Really? All these years and I've been saying it wrong?"

"I-"

"Would you idiots buzz off?" Laxus complained. "I'm tryin' to walk here."

"And no one's stopping you from doing that," Lisanna said. "Anyways, the point is, we can come second to your kids, but not you. Err, well, I can. Elfman's third."

"Why am I third?" he complained. "Maybe you're third."

"I'm always first, Elfman," Lisanna told him, sticking her tongue out at him, having to lean over Laxus to do so, as they were on opposite sides of the thunder mage. "It's just the way things-"

"Get to the fucking other numbers," Laxus complained. "Quickly."

"Oh, right." Lisanna giggled as Elfman took to scowling.

How come he and Lisanna weren't equal? He would be taking that up with Mirajane later!

"So next is that all holidays are spent with us."

"What holidays?"

"All holidays."

"The hell else would I spend them with?"

"Well, we don't know," Lisanna said. "But we'd like it to be known for sure that you're not whisking Mira away for any of them. Ever."

"Ever? Ever's here?"

"Focus, Elfman," his sister complained before clearing her throat. "Number five-"

"You're on three," Laxus sighed.

"Huh?"

"You're on- Never mind. Onto number five."

Lisanna nodded, grinning at him. "If you ever hurt Mirajane, we'll restrain you as she kills you."

"Hurt her?"

"Like, you know, hit her or something," Lisanna said.

"Why would I-"

"Mira does get a tad annoying sometimes," Elfman said. "But if you even so much as think about striking her, we'll help her beat the crap out of you!"

"Why do you need her help?"

Elfman only looked at him. "Mira's, like, the manliest man around. Why wouldn't we want her help?"

"Yeah, Laxus," Lisanna complained. "Use your head a little."

"Silly me."

"And," the youngest Strauss sibling went on. "We'd like for you to consider once more changing your name to Strauss and becoming our fourth sibling."

"No thanks."

"Come on," Elfman insisted. "I don't like ya none, but it we'd be an unstoppable team!"

"Don't need your help. You'd only hold me back."

"Fine," Lisanna groaned. "The next one is, obviously, that we get to name your firstborn."

"The fuck? No."

"It's a rule."

"I said no."

"But-"

"I'm going to toss you to the ground again, Lisanna."

"Fine," she sighed. "You can name your own children."

"As if I needed your damn permission."

"Hey." Elfman shoved his shoulder which about got the big dope flat on his ass. Laxus was feeling rather amiable that day.

Not to mention, he didn't want to flip out on the big goof and have Mira overreact and call off the wedding.

"Watch who you're talking to," his fiancée's brother grumbled.

"And watch who the fuck you touch," Laxus said before reminding him, "I can get Ever to do whatever the hell I please. I've told you more than once, Elfboy, that I am the last man you want to mess with."

"Anyways," Lisanna continued, not taking a hint for some reason. "The next-"

"Where is Ever anyway?" Laxus grumbled. "And Bickslow, Lisanna? Shouldn't you two be chasing after them?"

"I don't chase after Ever," Elfman complained. "Anymore."

"And Bickslow and I are on a break."

"Do what now?"

Lisanna only looked off. "We have come to a crossroads."

"Meaning?"

For a moment, Laxus thought that Lisanna wouldn't answer. And, honestly, in that moment, he was thankful, as for that brief second, he'd forgotten that he didn't give a damn.

Then she started talking.

Sigh.

"His favorite ice cream is freaking vanilla. Like, plain old vanilla! And he won't even put anything on it."

"…I'm lost," Elfman said as Laxus decided he didn't want to be found. "Why-"

"Because, Elf," she complained. "How could we ever share an ice cream cone if I can't even put sprinkles or hot fudge or anything on it? And when I brought this up, he was all like, 'That's stupid, Lisanna. I don't want you eating my ice cream anyways! Get your own. Why should I buy you anything? Huh? Huh?' And then I told him-"

"Are you guys seriously even dating?" Laxus couldn't believe he cared, but…ugh.

"Yes."

"Really? I mean-"

"Ever doesn't share her ice cream either," Elfman sighed.

"How long have you guys even been on a break?" Laxus asked.

"Um…since two hours ago."

Rolling his eyes, Laxus said, "But isn't tonight the night that you guys-"

"Make the babies all new bodies? Yeah. I'm still gonna go over and do that. But not because we're dating! Because-"

"I really don't care."

"You asked."

"My mistake."

"Oh, and hey." Elfman was animated again then, balling up his fists as he spoke. "That's not the only reason we came looking for you!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then get to it, because I'm about home and-"

"We came to stop you from sleeping with other women!"

"…You caught me. I have a fetish for toilet paper and hot women."

"I knew it."

"Elf," Lisanna giggled.

He only glared at Laxus though. "I know how guys like you are. I know what you thought you would do with your night."

"Uh, wait for Mira to get home, sleep on the couch probably because she's been so emotional and shit recently, then get kicked out of the apartment in the morning so she could get ready or whatever. That's my plans. Oh, and take a big shit. Hence the toilet paper. I lied about the fetish."

Lisanna was about dissolved in her giggles then, but Elfman kept his glare up, not falling for it for one second.

"You know," he said stiffly. "I'm still not on board with this marriage."

"Oh, really? I'm amazed."

"This ain't no joke," the muscular man grumbled. "This is my big sister! And you're not going to-"

"You think I wanted to get married? At any point in my life?" Laxus stopped walking then, turning to glare at Elfman. "I didn't. Ever. Until I realized just how much I loved the demon. Then I knew. And I ain't fuckin' what I have with her up for nothing. So if you're gonna be like this even after we get married, then you just need to get the fuck out of our lives right now. I don't need your negativity ruining the only good thing I got going for me."

He didn't even flinch then as, once more, Lisanna jumped him from behind. It was a hug that time though and, shifting the back of toilet paper to one hand, he reached up with one hand to pat hers, which were tight around his neck.

Elfman only grunted before walking once more. "Whatever. The other rule is that you two are not allowed to form sorta rebellion against me."

Lisanna only let Laxus go before rushing out of her brother. "You'll always be my second favorite."

"Mira's your first and you're hers? This is a conspiracy."

"I meant second favorite brother. You're my third favorite sibling."

"That's not-"

"You never did say where Evergreen was," Laxus complained, walking behind them then. Anything to get them off their current topic. "Figured she and the others would be crying over me today."

'Awe," Lisanna giggled. "You upset that you're not being worshiped?"

"No," he grumbled. Well… "Just confused is all."

"She said that she had some business with Freed and Bickslow."

"About me?" Laxus asked, trying to keep the hope out of his tone.

Okay, so maybe he expected the three of them to be a little more heartbroken over their idol officially being off limits. Namely Freed.

"Nope." Elfman shook his head. "Mirajane."

"Mira?" Lisanna asked. "Bickslow didn't mention anything. Then again, we were fighting. I mean, seriously, who is against hot fudge? That's, like, the most basic of-"

"Mirajane?" Laxus repeated, coming to a stop once more. "They're with Mirajane?"

"Yeah? So?" Glancing back at him, Elfman said, "Who cares? They're just up at the bar, I'm sure."

"You idiot!" Laxus thrust the pack of toilet paper at Lisanna then before turning back.

"Wha-"

"If you dummies came here to give me a talk," he complained, running off for the guildhall, "the hell you think those dumbasses are doing?"

"This is a mighty long list here, Freed," Mira said slowly, glancing over a few of the bullet points on the piece of paper the other man had handed her. "I mean, do I really need to cut up Laxus' steak for him? I mean, we go out to eat all the time and I've never-"

"Do you want him to choke?"

"W-Well-"

"You really have to make sure you do number twelve," Ever said as she sat up at the bar next to her three team members, filing her nails while she was at it. "Ooh, and seven is a biggie."

Bickslow, who had been pouting the whole time, just kept staring down at the bar. Mira, noticing this, gave him a small smile.

"It's okay, Bickslow," she said. "Laxus and I might be getting married, but it's not that big of a deal. It-"

"It is a gigantic deal," Freed yelled at her, almost jumping up out of his seat. He was so loud, in fact, that he startled Cana just as she was tilting her barrel back, making the woman topple over and Macao rush to help her up. "It's the biggest thing to happen since…since…since ever!"

"What?" the woman complained.

"I wasn't talking to you, Ever, I was saying-"

"That's not what's wrong," Bickslow grumbled as his dolls huddled close around their master's head. His visor was down, but Mira could read just from the bottom half of his face that he was in a sour mood.

"Then what-"

"I don't like chocolate, okay? Why is that such a big deal? Huh? Huh?"

Mira just stared. "I didn't say it was. I only-"

"Bickslow!" Freed slammed his fists down on the bar.

"Please don't-" Mira tried, but the letter mage was quite wound up that day and just spoke over her.

"Today is not about you," he growled. "It is about making sure that Mira understands how valuable Laxus' life is. He is the most important soul to ever grace the earth! We are all lucky to-"

"I have a hair appointment in an hour." Ever glanced at both her male teammates before looking to Mirajane. "So just follow the list, huh? Oh, and tell your brother that we're on code blue at the wedding tomorrow."

"Code blue?" Mira frowned. "I don't understand."

"You don't need to," she said. "But he does."

"I-"

"It means that he's allowed to talk to her, but they are not going home together. No hooking up on the date either. Just making out. Maybe," Bickslow grumbled. "Blue balls. Get it?"

"Look," Ever hissed at him. "Just because you and Lisanna are on the outs-"

"This is a lot of information all at once," Mira said slowly. "And, for the record, I don't want any of you hooking up at my wedding. At all."

"That is not the information that you need to be paying attention to!" Freed was losing it. "You are to be focusing on Laxus, Mirajane. Now. And forever. For the rest of his life. It is your job to make sure that all of his needs are met when they arise. All of them, Mira. All. Of. Them."

Ever rolled her eyes. "Just for this, tell Elfman we're on code red."

"Aw, man. Code red? And I didn't even do nothin'?"

They all frowned at Elfman's voice as he came into the guildhall, Lisanna and Laxus in tow.

"This is really uncalled for, Ever," the man kept up as he came closer.

'Uncalled for? You're lucky I don't put you on code-"

"No more codes!" Freed growled as Laxus approached. The second the man was close enough, he turned to look at him. "I have provided Mirajane with a list of all the things you require for the two of you to have a happy life together."

"You what?"

Mira nodded. "It's twice the size of the one he gave me when you and I first started dating."

"Oh geez."

"Hello, Bickslow," Lisanna said then, holding her head high, all cordial and shit. Ugh. He only slowly got up from the stool. Raising his own head, he rubbed at his chest with his fist.

"Good evein', Lissy."

"Hi, Lissy!"

"Babies, please," Bickslow complained as his dolls came to circle around her head. She took to looking off.

"I've brought you our standard makeup gift." She held out the toilet paper. "On such short notice-"

"Ah! Four-ply? You shouldn't have. And to think, I am just so unprepared. I don't got nothin' on me, but I can buy you a drink if you-"

"Give me that," Laxus growled as he reached over to snatch back the package. "You freaks."

"Oy, boss," he complained. "You're messing up my big makeup scene here."

"You dopes were fighting over some damn ice cream. If it's that big of a deal, Lisanna, I'll pay for it every time you go out and you can both get your own damn cones."

"It wasn't about the jewels, Laxus," she complained. "It was- Oh, wait, hey, that's a real good deal."

"It really is," Bickslow agreed. "We go out for ice cream probably five times ever week."

"You what?" Laxus frowned at them. "Then how is this the first time you've had this fight?"

"It's not," the other man responded with a shrug. "We have it, oh, five times a week."

"Every damn time you go-"

"Quick, Bicks," Lisanna said. "Let's fight over rent so he can pay that too."

"That's so smart, Lissy. You're, like-"

"No," Laxus growled. "And why do you fight about-"

"Doy, Laxus," Lisanna said. "You can't makeup if you don't fight."

"And you can't have hot makeup sex unless you're making up, yeah?" Bickslow said with a wink and what he thought was a whisper.

It was not.

Laxus glared at him before looking to Mirajane. "You're getting off early. Now."

"Code black is far more appropriate," Elfman was saying about that time as Ever only continued fliling her nails. Once she got them how she liked, she got to her feet.

"Code orange."

"Ew, Ever," her seith teammate said, making a face as Lisanna made a gagging noise.

"What's-"

"Handy," Bickslow snickered in response to Mira's question.

"We're leaving," Laxus told Mira firmly then. Glancing around, he found Kinana and called out to her. "Mira's taking off early. Wedding stuff."

"Laxus," Mira complained, though she did head after him, giggling.

"Remember the guidelines," Freed called after them. "Mira! Laxus needs a lot of maintenance! This is serious!"

The second she was near, Laxus grabbed Mira's hand, her giggling as they fled the bar and their friends.

"Let's just elope," Laxus told her once they were free of the guildhall.

"Laxus," she giggled.

"Swear, I'll eat the costs,"

"They just love us," she said, snuggling up to his arm as they walked along.

"Yeah, well."

"And you got the toilet paper. Good boy."

Grunt. Then, glancing down at her, he saw the smile on her face and found a grin on his own to match.

"You ready for tomorrow, demon?"

"Mmmhmm. Aren't you?"

"Yeah," he sighed, leaning down to kiss her head. "I am."

"Although," she sighed. "After reading number fifteen, Laxus, I'm shocked we've made it this far in our relationship. Freed helps you blow your nose?"

He snatched the list from her before crumpling it up. "They're a bunch of idiots."

"But they're our idiots," she reminded.

"Unfortunately."

[emmybluefire]

Dragon’s Lair: Part 1

“Mister Duzzle... MISTER DUZZLE!”

“Heh! What?” An aging goblin shook his head, reality almost morphing back into view with each light tapping upon his plumping cheeks... oversized ears rippling in the dry heated wind of Uldum.

“Stop your daydreamin’ and focus! I need your full attention if we’re gonna score this load, see.” cackled the other, greasy green palms and chubby fingers slipping up against each other as he offered a wicked grin.

“Wait. We’s that close already? Thought we still had miles to go! Remember, I charge by the hour, costs go up when you fool around too... Mister Grobbik. You’s ain’t fooling around right?”

“Me?” the one named Mister Grobbik placed a hand over his wheezing chest... fingers like sausages up against his blubbery physique, warts dotting his nose, knuckles, and pretty much anywhere visible. Mister Grobbik always reminded Duzzle of a toad... but he was a valuable business partner, so he’d never complain. “Bah! I never fool around, see. Unless you mean with those mooches of yours.” he guffawed, the horrendous sound tearing through the air.

Duzzle only smirked at this. “You’s never answered my question Mister Grobbik. We’s here or not?”

The toad scoffed, raising his hands defensively, shaking them. “Oh Yesyesyes yes... Just down that cliff Mister Duzzle. Right down there, see. I even took the liberty of unwrappin’ your tools for you. Right there, see.”

Duzzle snickred, glancing over towards them. Polished metal pikes, one hundred meters of rope, top grade harness, bolts and other fastens... everything was ready. Without another word, The older, lighter goblin, went to work. It wouldn’t be long before the rope was secure and he could safely descend down the cliff face.

“Now remember Mister Duzzle, fifty/fifty, that was our agreement. fifty/fifty.” Grobbik warned, that sleazy smirk of his ever present. “Don’t you hold out on me, see.”

Duzzle waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. I heard. Just leave me’s to work and you’ll get your sum.” He was confident, far as Grobbik knew. There was no nervousness or fear. Not a single emotion to take advantage of. At least... as far as Grobbik was concerned. But there was something... This cavern that they were ‘excavating’ , old tales say it housed a dragon. Two, actually. They were dead now--or so he was told--leaving behind a cavern full of riches and gems, ripe for the taking! But something about it felt off... perhaps it was the fact that dragons lived for a long time. Said to be immortal even. Perhaps it was the fact that he heard about it from a random scrounger off the streets of Gagetzan, or perhaps it was because he’d never heard the rumor till last Saturday.

Nevertheless... a lingering sense of dread clung to him like the scent of skunk on a hot, dreary day. Was doing this really a good idea? Well... he was getting paid quite a lot for this. And Grobbik seemed more than confident that the tales were true... he could trust the intuition his business partner... right? Well, he was already descending down the cliff. So he sure as hell hoped so.

He grunted and grumbled... but after thirty minutes of climbing down the sheer cliff face he finally made it. Every inch was a struggle though. Not of the body, but of the mind. Every instinct the goblin had said this was a bad idea. A terrible idea. It was a message clear as day... this could very well be the last expedition of his lifetime... but he couldn’t back away now. Too much money was on the line. Money that could either make his life forever, and send him sailing smoothly into retirement... or break it in an instant. Killing him slowly as he starved to death on the streets of Gagetzan.

A cold draft seeped out from the gaping mouth of the chasm, sending that awful prickling sensation all throughout his body, producing goosebumps... and chilling him down to the bone. It was pitch black in there... nothing to be seen beyond the fifty feet of sunlight. Though... the gaping hole in the back made it obvious. There was FAR more to this cave than he originally anticipated. Not that he was expecting it to be small... but nor was he expecting it to be this big.

“Yo! Mister Duzzle! Time is money you know! Stop bein’ a floozy and hop to it already! chop chop!” his partner scolded from up above, pulling him out of his haze once more.

“On it!” Duzzle shouted back, quickly lighting a torch. His feet... pat, pat, pat... as they drew ever closer to the precipice; the gaping mouth. The stalactites and stalagmites almost resembled teeth... and the rhythmic draft didn’t help either...

For a moment, all was silent. Save perhaps the echoing of his steps. His feet loosened up gravel, and even sent a rock skittering down the throat. 

Bang, bangBang BANG!  clatter clatter!...  clatterclatter...

Each pop. Each echoing skitter, startled him. He crumpled into himself much in the same way he did when he’d wronged his mother. Just like then, he anticipated a beating. Not the bludgeoning kind though, mind you... More the eaty chompy kind. When he opened his eyes again, he half expected to be staring down a monster’s gullet... but instead, it was naught but the cave’s. Not even a pair of eyes glaring back at him. He chuckled nervously, a shaky step inward, then another, and another. Each providing no response. Perhaps... there was no monster in here after all.

Each step he took was more confident than the last. The torchlight illuminating the rocks around him. Stalactites and stalagmites morphed together to create beautiful displays of nature’s artwork. Each supple limestone rock unique... each inch with it’s own story to tell... He almost felt bad for what the goblins were doing to the environment... nah. Not really. He didn’t give a rat’s anus about it. His eyes were on the prize just beyond the veil of darkness. Fabled silks, gems, gold and trinkets! Riches beyond measure!

Fear, turned to confidence, turned to excitement, turned to thrill, turned to pleasure! He was smiling now! Brighter than he had in a while... but then... it all fell apart. Pleasure immediately fell back into terror when he realized the ground beneath him was vibrating. Tiny bits of rubble and dust began to topple from the  ceiling... and trickle across the floor. Something lived in here... something big.

Something beyond... something unseen, something barely heard rippled through his body. It was a sound more felt... than heard. But his sensitive ears could barely make out one thing. A low, reverberating, rumble. A growl that doubled as a hiss. A warning. In an instant... all of his suppressed thoughts of death and ruin were reawakened, and goosebumps rippled down his spine.

The Message was clear: “You are not welcome here...”

Author’s Note: I just wanted to take a moment to thank you guys! I know this is slightly different from my usual style. But you know? I thought I should tell more of a story here, rather than just give you everything cold turkey as it pertains to Emmy XD. This is more an... experiment? Yeah, that’s a good word for it :P Hope you guys enjoy it! Part 2 will come out very soon, I promise!

Also... I do apologize for my ‘c’s not being capitalized where they should DX  My computer is still having issues with the ‘c‘ button on my keyboard :c , so I’m having to copy/paste it every time you see it! But uh... yeah. That’s all! Have a good one wherever you may be :P

@wrynns-wolves

[reesesxxpieces-blog]

Johnny William Took about 2 minutes to ruin that good mood. Leave it to your wife.

Spencer James "Well then. Didn't know my ass was such a problem."

Johnny William Your ass is only a problem when it's in public.

Spencer James "And... is it?"

Johnny William Not yet but when you threaten it.

Spencer James "John, my ass is yours. Okay? And I'm not showing it to anyone else."

Johnny William Yeah, that's why you keep threatening it. You know what you are doing. You're antagonizing me and then surprised when you get a fucking reaction.

Spencer James "I was teasing, John. Not threatening. Not antagonizing. Teasing. But it's whatever. You want to let that ruin the day, go for it. You wanna call me an asshole and get mad at me, it's all you. But just know, I was teasing and nothing more."

Johnny William Oh! You were teasing! I'm sorry. Maybe I'll just use that excuse the next time I talk about some other girl and it'll talk you out of one of your temper tantrums. Oh, wait. That's right. I do. I do /tease/ you and you nearly have a fucking break down. So let's play this teasing game since it's so harmless, huh?

Spencer James "I wasn't talking about another guy! There's a big fucking difference, John. I was talking about my ass. Technically, your ass. And now I'm an ass. I don't want to have a pissing match with you where the only goal is not to tease anymore but to hurt the other person and I won't do it. I didn't say that shit to hurt you. I was teasing you. Being playful. But whatever is about to come out of your mouth is going to be to hurt me and I'm not game."

Johnny William Wow, really? That's my endgame? Alright, Spence. There will be no pissing match. I'm not saying shit. Call this one stunned silence.

Spencer James "When you say 'let's play this teasing game', what am I supposed to think? That's not a game and it's not teasing any more. That's trying to hurt one another and I don't want to hurt you and I don't want to be hurt by you. Seriously, all of this over my ass that everyone in the world knows is yours. For weeks and weeks now, I've made sure not to do anything that would potentially set you off in that regard and been very thoughtful of what I show and what I don't and even a teasing mention is going to bring you to a place of this. I don't understand. If you want to go with stunned silence, that ain't gonna help us none. But if that's what you need, then I guess I'll be here when you are ready to not be silent anymore."

Johnny William I didn't mean that we are going to play it. I meant that when we do play it, there is one person here who isn't allowed to play because she can't take it but she sure can dish it. I don't get any pleasure out of setting you off like that. So congratulations, you acted married for a couple weeks. Who knew it was such a sacrifice. But yeah, sounds good, Spence. That's all I got.

Spencer James "I /acted/ married for a few weeks... because I don't normally /act/ married?" Eyes him, completely stunned, not even remotely sure how to take that remark. "I /am/ married and..." Pauses, shaking her head, refusing to go any further. "If you're done now, I'm going to go to work and spend the day /acting/ like a cop who really just wants to go home to her husband and kids and feeling like an asshole."

Johnny William Yeah, I'm done. -considering he was the one apparently being irrational though he hardly saw it that way as anything he said was being turned against him. Settling for silence per usual;

Spencer James Hearing him say he was done, she simply nodded her head, holding her emotions together for once she was outside in the car. With both boys still sleeping, she wouldn't risk waking them. Instead, she picked up her backpack from the sofa and made her way out the door. Once it was closed behind her, she leaned back against it, letting everything he said settle in on her resulting in the moisture at the corners of her eyes.

Johnny William Yeah, love you too. -muttering to himself as the door was closed. Shaking his head. Maybe his point being nailed in a little further by the fact that she was going out to her job without saying such a thing to him but he wouldn't be the one to make the mistake as he leaned up against the kitchen counter. Phone underneath of his elbows holding his attention;

Spencer James She did love him even with how she was feeling in that moment even if she couldn't even think clear enough in the moment to say so. Outside, she'd lose her composure that she'd held onto so strongly. Her car remained in the driveway as she sat down on the steps of the porch, her face to her knees as she gave into it entirely. She'd been through a lot of things with the man, but never anything like this. Hearing her phone alert in her pocket, she'd withdraw it and look through her tears to see that Ryan was warning her that their Sergeant was in a shit mood. "Great," she complained as it meant she was in for the rest of her day to look about like the beginning of it did. Pushing her phone back in her pocket, she rose to her feet, having spent the better part of ten minutes there, wiping against the tears that continued against her face, trying to pull her shit together for her to even be able to drive after that. Knowing she should be on her way or she was going to be late, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Opening the front door once again, she took a deep breath even though it would do her no good. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face a mess, but it wouldn't be anything John hadn't seen before. "I really don't want to fight with you and I don't want to go to work like this. I'm sorry I teased about something so sensitive and I'm sorry that I walked out the door like I could actually fucking leave. I can't. I can't go. I can't take a step away from you. I fucking need you and I can't fucking stand it when you're upset with me," she stated as she crossed the space, finding him there in the kitchen at the counter. All in one motion of her coming into the house, she was apologizing as she made her way over to him, dropping her bag somewhere between point A and point B. As she got there to him, there was no hesitation as she gripped the sides of his face and drew her lips fully to his. "I fucking love you," she managed through her tears as her lips came to his. Unwilling to let this fight linger between them. Unwilling to go to work, to leave him, to give it hours to fester. Ultimately breaking down before she had ever gotten to the car. Needing him and not being afraid of her own pride to walk back in and show it.

Johnny William Still amazed that she had done that. Drawing up from the counter and ready to go lay down or attempt to direct his energy somewhere else. His fantasy draft no longer holding him as he couldn't concentrate. Giving it a few minutes before she was back through the front door. Watching as she entered once again and momentarily stunned as she approached. Eyes to hers as it all came out. Basically a white flag without giving anything on her end. Feeling as she gripped at his face and drew to him. Eyes to hers. "You really were about to leave without telling me that." Still stunned by that as he watched her.

Spencer James When his lips didn't mesh back against her own, she was lost somewhere in a one sided kiss that would only stand to kill her further. Needing that contact, the reciprocation of it, as the denial was nearly enough to break her. As he drew back with his eyes there to hers, the tears were unceasing, if only furthered by his refusal to kiss her back in that moment. "I didn't make it off the porch," she confessed through that raspy tone which was only made worse by the crying spell that was in its fifteenth minute. "I can't do this with you. I could have with anyone else, but not you. I love you and I can't not come back. I can't go to work with you mad at me. I can't walk out and get in that car without kissing you and telling you I love you and you kissing me and telling me that you love me. I know I infuriate you. I know I push boundaries and I know that you got a shitshow for a wife half the time, but I fucking love you and I don't know how to walk out, stay gone, and just not fight for us." Her hands moved from the sides of his face to the back of his neck, drawing constantly into the man even if she wasn't sure if he wanted her to or not.

Johnny William Eyes passing over hers as she explained, still struggling with this. Brows drawing as he shook his head as she found his neck. The tension leaving him as his eyes dropped. Struggling to work it all out before he was back at her with a nod. Understanding. Or trying to atleast. "Alright."

Spencer James Finding the shake of his head made her heart drop thinking she was to be denied a second time by the man, but hearing his 'alright', she knew it would be. "Don't tell me you love me," she whispered through her tears, not sure she could handle the sentiment in return at the moment. "Just kiss me," she whispered even softer, needing to feel it more than anything in that moment. "Just kiss me and don't stop."

Johnny William Hearing her whisper, thinking it was almost sarcasm there for a minute. "I do love you though." He'd remind her before hearing her whisper. Leaning in and pressing his lips back to hers to atleast allow half of her request.

Spencer James As he spoke, it stole her breath as no part of her felt deserving of such affection in that moment, knowing every problem they ever had was started at her big mouth continually fucking up in one way or another. Feeling him at her lips, her tears were unceasing as she drew her arms around his neck, pressing her kiss deeply against his lips.

Johnny William Pressing back to her though time would be their enemy here as it was ticking rapidly. She had to go to work and they both knew it. But there she was, still pressed to him as if it didn't matter.

Spencer James It didn't matter and he would soon find out that her priorities weren't what they once were. Pressed to him, her arms joining behind his neck, she lifted to her toes, her lips formed firmly against his with no hope of salvation.

Johnny William Feeling her to his neck as she lifted, returning her kiss with Paw Patrol never too far in the background. His hand finding the side of her face as though she was short on time, he wouldn't help.

Spencer James Feeling him draw into that kiss just as deeply as she did, she drew her arms tightly around his neck. Humming to his lips as she felt that desire rising up in herself, needing to feel him. Taking a step back towards the kitchen, she drew him with her, not letting go.

Johnny William Arm slipping around her waist as she drew back, feeling her ready to break free until she was taking him with. Confused as he gave that step forward wherever it would lead.

Spencer James Feeling him come along with her, she would take another step and then another, never letting that kiss fail until she felt the counter top to her back. Leaning her back against it, drawing him to arch his back over her as one hand drew down from the back of his neck between them where she was gripping him even through his jeans.

Johnny William Feeling her continue those steps and pull him into her as he gave. Leaned over her even as he felt her to the front of his jeans. Exhaling hot even against her lips from the contact. Tongue brushing over the part of her lips to access her.

Spencer James Feeling his tongue sweeping the part of her lips, it was all she needed from him to continue on. Her lips parted to that contact as her hand ventured up, flipping the button of his jeans. Pressing her hand flat to his stomach, she didn't bother with the zipper as she pressed her hand down, finding her way within his jeans and boxers at once, finding that skin to skin contact as her hand wrapped around him, stroking up his length as her tongue passed over his.

Johnny William Feeling her find him, his breath would hitch. Not needing much time at all as the blood filtered downwards with no idea of how this was going to work as he felt her against his lips. Rolling his tongue past her lips where he'd slip deeper within the confines of her mouth as his hips pushed forward against her hand.

Spencer James Feeling him hardening within her hand, she felt his tongue passing into the confines of her own mouth. Greeting his tongue with her own, his taste flooding her over her, encouraging her hand against him. Bringing her free hand there between them, her fingers maneuvering his zipper to give her more room. With no idea how to make this work with paw patrol playing in the distance, realizing it might just be best that she find her knees behind that counter. Breathing through his lungs as she stroked his length, past the point of no return for her.

Johnny William Paw Patrol was always on in this house somewhere and she knew it as she got further against him. Exhaling hot as their tongues passed over one another and he felt her stroking him. Quickly grabbing a reaction as she always did as there wasn't a man more equipped for this then him. Literally calling it a talent most days considering he wasn't good at much in the first place. His hands finding her hips as he was luring her up onto the edge of that counter.

Spencer James With his hands gripping her, lifting her to the counter's edge, it wasn't far fetched when flashbacks of their first night in his former apartment took hold, sparking something deep within her as she maintained her hand within his boxers while her other hand pushed down against the fabric, forcing his jeans and then his boxers to fall with the help of gravity, pooling at his ankles as she exposed his lower region first, giving her hand complete freedom as her knees parted to him there on the countertop. Still wearing her typical work attire of jeans, a flannel button down long sleeved shirt and a heavy jacket over top, she was fully clothed down to her boots and yet she had the man's ass bare. Quite pleased with herself as it was a rare occurrence, her tongue smoothed over his as her hand found the back of his neck, fingertips grasping at the short strands to the back of his head as her hand continued to stroke his length, her thumb gently stimulating the head of his cock.

Johnny William Feeling her paying such steep attention to his anatomy at that moment was enough to force his breath to catch. Finding the feeling incredible before his hands were slipping down for the button and zipper of her own jeans. Undoing them where he made his intentions clear. Roughly managing to negotiate as his lips briefly drew from hers. "Work?"

Spencer James It only took a moment before his hands were working at her own jeans, jerking against her as he got the job done before asking about her real job. "I'm sick," she quickly explained as she was reaching for her phone in her pocket, taking the opportunity to shed the heavy winter jacket. With her phone to her ear, she'd wait. Pushing her jacket off the edge of the counter, her free hand found the back of his neck, drawing him to her lips once more where she'd press a firm kiss against his lips as she waited for her Sergeant to answer.

Johnny William Watching as she began that call, he'd have to smirk as she just made this game a million times better by that phone to her ear. Pushing down her jeans with her help before his hands were finding that flannel of hers. Lips drifting from hers to the side of her neck.

Spencer James Feeling his hands to her jeans, she'd maneuver against the counter to help him remove them at least to her ankles before he was there to the flannel shirt. With the feeling of his lips to the side of her neck, she sighed instantly, her eyes closing at the contact while listening to the ringing of the phone there in her ear. Drawing the phone from her ear, she'd temporarily place it on speaker, setting it on the counter top so she could reach down, working at her boot until it was lose enough to push off, giving her jeans a place to fall free of her. The phone rang again, getting no where fast there as she continued to wait for her Sergeant to answer his damned phone.

Johnny William Watching as she placed the phone down as she was reaching for her boots. Helping her get those jeans off before his fingers were back towards her flannel buttons one by one. Lips returning to the side of her neck where pressed to her jugular.

Spencer James Beneath his lips he'd find that racing pulse as she felt him to the last button of her shirt, knowing he was playing a quick round of catch up there and attempting to surpass what she had removed from the man. Hearing the Sergeant's voicemail pick up, she knew better. He'd have her head for it if she left him a voicemail call out, so she hung up the phone there at her side, giving herself a minute to simply enjoy the feeling of his lips to her flesh once more. Her own hands slipped to the lower hem of his shirt, ready to pull it off, yet not wanting to stop him at her neck either. Torn, she'd grip the fabric in her hands, waiting, sighing, finding it difficult to pace herself in the slightest as she was already longing for the man.

Johnny William Hearing no answer, he had no clue what happened from there as normal jobs weren't exactly his thing. But she seemed to have an idea even as ended the call and he felt her to the bottom of his own short. Hearing her sigh causing him to lure back from her neck.

Spencer James As he drew back, she'd waste no time in drawing up at the fabric of his shirt, working together with him in the spaces and time he'd offer her. Pulling the fabric up and over his head, not nearly as desirably as he would do it himself, but there was something about being able to undress the man herself that took her over at times. Baring him entirely, she was leaning forward, her teeth sinking to the side of his neck instantly as her patience had run thin in the process. Both hands released his shirt somewhere on the floor as her hands took hold at the backs of his upper arms, pulling against him with no regard for the phone as of yet.

Johnny William Feeling her pulling off his shirt, he'd exhale hot. Wanting her more and more every passing minute as he felt her teeth find his skin. Growling low. "Fuck." He'd complain as his arms were sweeping around her. Pulling her onto himself where he was carrying her into the living room and dumping them both on the couch. Neither kid quite up yet but turning the TV on had rendered such a channel.

Spencer James Feeling him draw her from the countertop with just the bite of her teeth to his neck, her hand barely made it to the counter to grab her phone before he was making off to the sofa with her, clearly wanting more room than that countertop would allow for. Pressing her lips to the space she'd only a moment before inflicted that pain against. Feeling the sofa to her back as John came there overtop of her, her legs remained wrapped around him. Drawing her phone up behind him, she'd eye the screen to find the redial for her Sergeant, bringing the phone to her ear once again as her free hand slipped between them where she'd continue what she'd started in the kitchen.

Johnny William Not stopping for her this time as he laid her down and she went for her phone again as he was reaching for her panties. Thinning patience as he dragged those down her thighs as well with a goal to get her stripped down.

Spencer James Slipping out of the fabric of her panties at the willing of his hands guiding them down to which she'd make no effort to stop the man at all. She was his and with that, he could have her in whatever state he wanted her without a single complaint from her in the matter. Hearing her Sergeant's voice on the other end of the phone, she'd attempt to stabilize her voice, though knowing all the while that she was out of sorts from having bene crying previously. "Hey, Sarge. I'm really sorry to do this to you... " she began, his voice interrupting hers as he began in on her that this had best be good and true and able to be proven for her to call off on a shift after being reinstated so recently. "It is, Sir," she promised, though it wasn't entirely true, only hoping the department wouldn't call her on this.

Johnny William Seeing off her panties as his eyes found hers as she finally got through. Ready to test the strength of her voice as he got that familiar look about him. Slipping down the couch where his head was navigating between her thighs. Mouth parting to draw his tongue along the heat of her sex and from there going ahead with business as if nothing was different about this encounter at all.

Spencer James Catching that look in his eyes, she knew she was in for it. A moment later, she'd find out just how much so. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat with that first pass of his tongue over her as she drew up at her knees, bringing her legs over his shoulders, giving up that full access to him, signing her own death certificate. "I've been throwing up all morning. I think it was something I ate. I'll... be... " her voice broke, reacting to that which John inflicted on her, yet it easily sounded as though she were on the brink of being sick again. Before she could say another word, her Sergeant interrupted, seemingly satisfied with the proof as she struggled to make a sentence. Telling her to touch base later on and come in if she got to feeling better, she gasped in response to John. "Okay. Thanks, Sarge." He told her to feel better and the call was ended. Spencer dropped her phone to the floor instantly, her hand coming to the back of John's head, gripping short strands. "Fuck. Trying to get me fired," she whined.

Johnny William Surprised as she gave him full access to her by drawing up her knees over her shoulders. Eyes drawing up as his lips surrounded her clit and watching her attempt to pull that off. Watching her drop the phone as he'd smile tellingly. Not one to smile often but it was best when he was amused at another persons expense. "Mhm." He'd hum in agreement, hands locked to the sides of her thighs as he continued on. Skating his tongue against her nerve. "Just imagine if I just put it in you like I was going to." He added, a brief detour before returning.

Spencer James "John, I would have screamed," she confessed honestly, barely managing the words before he was focusing in against her clit, stealing her breath as her knees drew up against the hold he had on her thighs. A whine passed her lips as her eyes fell closed, giving in entirely. Unable to explain to him what her superior had said although she figured he got the picture well enough.

Johnny William "Definitely should have." He'd note as that would have made it even better as she drew further up against him. Not really caring to know anymore at this point as he was clearly distracted. Eyes up towards hers as he'd briefly speak. "Get the rest of that off." He'd demand, hardly requesting it of her.

Spencer James As he demanded she get the rest off, she found it hard to focus at all on that which he asked of her, yet she couldn't tell him no. He would find his wife entirely submissive to him here after everything, finding security in giving up any and all control. Arching her back, she brought her hands behind her back, nearly trying to block John's actions against her from her mind as she removed that last piece of fabric as he had told her to.

Johnny William Seeing her comply with him, there was no stopping or hesitation there for the man whose mouth was back to her with no hitch. Pressing his tongue in strong rotations over her again and again. No pausing to stop or allow her a break as there would be none for this man who quickly got to business. Slipping a long middle digit within her to test the waters.

Spencer James As he returned to that which he had been at, he'd steal her breath all over again as if it were that first contact proving a slight break between could give him the same reaction he'd gotten initially. With every bit of fabric gone from her, she bit against her lower tier as her hand found the back of his neck, nails gripping his flesh as he slipped a single digit within her. Warm walls were already damp with the proof of how quickly he could get her going in this manner, clinging to that single finger of his as a soft whine passed her lips. "Goddamn it, I want you," she complained, quite unsure just how much of him she could handle in this manner as she quickly wanted all of him, although it was no different than any other time. The woman struggled in the foreplay when receiving, yet never with giving. Wanting to feel him, to taste him, to engage with him fully where the patience required to accept was something she was severely lacking within.

Johnny William Hearing her complaint, wanting to hear just that as the proof coated his digit as he implored her for more. Not quite happy until he'd get all of her either but it was always worth the build up. Humming low as he challenged her to show him the truth of that statement.

Spencer James As if he were unfazed by her statement, the man continued on at her, not giving in to her which would only serve them both in the end. The hum against her had her luring her foot against his shoulder, pushing against him as she gripped the back of his neck with her hand, not seeming to have a clear train of thought here as she'd both push and pull him all at the same time. "John," she whined, biting her lower tier as her hips lifted to him naturally.

Johnny William As she was willing him to her, the man went even if he wasn't sure where she wanted him nor was she. Groaning at the distraction. "You taste so fuckin' good." Always slightly amazed by her in these moments as he was pulling himself above her.

Spencer James As he drew up at the pressure of her hand, she wasn't sure it was what she wanted as she'd miss the contact the moment it was gone. "Then why'd you stop?" she asked as though she were completely innocent and had done nothing to urge the man up towards her. With his hand still there between her thighs, she'd press her hips against his hand, feeling that single digit within her as her own hand slipped down between them, grasping his wrist in an effort to keep him there, not allowing him to withdraw from her. Meeting his eyes, she'd bite against her lower tier, energy surging through the woman. Leaning in as though she'd meet his lips, instead she'd steal to the side of his neck where his neck met his shoulder where her teeth would sink against him instantly giving up the insight of just how she wanted this to go.

Johnny William Hearing her question that would lure a groan from him as she had made him stop and she knew it. Feeling her at his wrist to keep him within her. His eyes to hers before she was at his neck and shoulder. Sighing low in response. "You think my finger feels good, imagine my cock." He began, hellbent on dirty talking her into destruction as he'd add a second digit to replicate the feeling. "Nice and deep."

Spencer James As he spoke, she sighed against his flesh where her bite had failed her at the very suggestion from his lips. Feeling the addition of his second finger, her leg drew up against his side as she drew in a sharp breath finding the man to be downright dangerous that morning. The combination of the two when sparked just right was something that could not be replicated and there was something about it all that had her feeling as though she were lost somewhere in the midst of a perfect storm. Her teeth grazed the curve of his ear where her breath would fall against his skin. "How deep?" she asked, her words just a whisper spoken directly into his ear.

Johnny William Feeling her leg draw as his fingers were pushed within her. Drawing himself between her thighs as if he was within yet it was only his fingers. Rocking his hips with the movement of his fingers to help with the illusion. Hearing her words in his ear as his fingers curled. "Even deeper than my fingers."

Spencer James As he drew his hips against the pressure of his hand, he'd pull a whine from her lips as she bit against the curve of his ear, tugging against him as she grumbled her pleasure. Bringing her hand against the back of his neck, her leg hitched higher against his hip. "Then why aren't you fucking me?" she asked, her words coming through in that rasp he was accustomed to, laced with the desire that she knew he could taste on his tongue.

Johnny William "Some women like foreplay, Spence." He'd remind her as it all seemed lost on her in that moment. "Some women have to beg for it too..." Letting her decide where she came on that one, he'd continue on.

Spencer James Hearing him hold out on her, she'd whine into his ear as he was clearly not giving in so quickly as he'd spoiled her into knowing he would give in to her in moments like these. "I..." she began, falling short as she drew back from his ear, her head finding the sofa once again as her eyes found his. "You're going to make me beg for it?" she asked, her eyes set to his, knowing he knew the woman would do so as her hand was slipping down between them in an attempt to find his cock, to take a bit of power here, to get his mind as blurred as her own had been.

Johnny William "Not this time." He answered honestly as he didn't have the patience, she had wasted it all earlier. Feeling her hand find his cock all while his was withdrawing. Ready to give her everything.

Spencer James As he withdrew his fingers from within her, he'd find the result of such there in her eyes as she lost the pressure she'd been coming alive beneath as her own hand found him, stroking down his length. With the power in her hand, her eyes met his. "How do you want me?" she asked, positions shifting through her mind as that sofa could easily be utilized to their benefit should he want something more than they were presently positioned for, yet she'd contradict the question as her hand guided his cock to her, tracing the head of him down the part of her where he'd find that tempting warmth he'd drawn from within.

Johnny William Hearing her question as he was brought to her entrance, sighing low as she made it difficult to concentrate but knowing he'd want something different than he normally could get. "Knees on the floor, facing away from me, leaned forward against the couch." Suggesting an assisted doggy, he grew more and more excited at the prospect.

Spencer James Not thinking he'd be able to manage thoughts here, much less positions that had not been attempted between the two, she drew a sharp breath as he detailed out how he wanted his wife to which she would be quick to oblige as he knew her to be. Nodding her head softly, she'd release her hold on him all at once, taking away the pressure she'd offered just as she'd lost it in him a moment before. Bringing both hands to the sides of his neck, she drew her lips to his in a firm kiss before she was laying back again, giving him the freedom and space to move before she'd move herself if he gave her the option to do so.

Johnny William Pressing his lips briefly back to hers before he was moving back and letting her do her own movement. Standing up as his fingers passed through his hair in attempt to be patient though the wait was evidently killing him as he exhaled a hot breath.

Spencer James As he drew back, she'd catch a glimpse of him running his hand through his hair, marking the lack of patience that existed in his eyes. She had the room here to be difficult, to take her time getting into that position he'd requested of her, and yet one look at the man and she couldn't do it. Quickly moving from where she had been on the sofa on her back, she'd find her knees beside the sofa, leaning over the seat where they had just been as her eyes drifted back behind her. "Like this?" she asked, giving him the space to reposition her if he so felt the need to do, but standing as her way of showing him how quickly she'd comply without giving him any shit.

Johnny William "Perfect." Like he'd tell her any different at this point. Whether it was right or wrong would be lost on them. She'd do better to not be difficult with him as he found his place behind her. Free hand at her hip willing her ass back against him as his free hand was slipping down.  Guiding himself within her without further delay.

Spencer James He'd find no argument from the woman as she was quick to comply after everything she had put him through that morning. She knew it had been her fault and she'd do all she could here to give him the space to get his frustrations out on her as well as doing her best to behave herself, knowing it always paid off when she did. As he found his knees there behind her, she felt him between her legs, taking up that space of himself in his hand just long enough to see himself to her. All at once the pressure she'd felt moments before at the work of his hand would be erased as she leaned forward on the sofa's cushions, burying her face against the fabric as she took him within her at the willing of his hips.

Johnny William Watching her bury herself into the couch that would never quite be viewed the same as he guided his hips forward. Slipping deep within her entirely as his hands found her sides as if she was going anywhere. Pressing himself deeper within her core before he'd give up a relieved sigh.

Spencer James His lack of patience was well noted here as she felt him taking her all at once, finding his place deep within those walls as she muffled the cry at her lips there against the fabric of the sofa. Her hands gripped the piping at the edge of the cushions, grasping at the furniture to take the pressure of his cock buried deep within her. Gasping for her breath against the sofa, she'd hear that sigh at his lips as she was far from that comfort. Her walls clung tightly to him, giving up no space as they fought against his vast size within her tiny frame. "Fuck..." she complained against the sofa as she turned her head to the side, unable to draw her hips against his as she felt the pressure radiating through her in throbs, leaving the room and space around them to disappear where there in the center that was just the two of them.

Johnny William Hearing her complaint while her body was nothing more than welcoming. The tightness of her walls around him echoing that same surprise but damn, did she feel good. A little too good for him in the moment as he'd give her a moment to get used to him for the sake of his own stamina as his hands were left wandering up her sides.

Spencer James With how quickly he had taken her, she hadn't expected a moment of pause there in his hips. Feeling his hands passing against her bare sides, she pressed her forehead to the sofa cushion, completely surrendered to the man. Taking slow, deep breaths, she lifted her head to cut her eyes back over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. Finding him there, a smile slowly took hold of her features as she brought her hand back, finding the side of his face. Luring him to take that same bend at the waist as she had, to come over her, she softly bit against her lower tier, giving away her need for that oral contact.

-March 16, 2017

[theworstbob]

the thing journal, 5.28 - 6.3

capsule reviews of the pop culture things i took in last week. in this post: from a room, chi-raq, the intervention, all the beauty in this whole life, bone tomahawk, spades and roses, souvenir, spin, brooklyn nine-nine, blue velvet

1) From a Room, Vol. I, by Chris Stapleton: My thing with Chris Stapleton is, I have enjoyed his two albums, I have thought they were both Very Good, I think they're both fine examples of what country should sound like and understand their importance in keeping country music vital. I'd fall just short of calling either of them classics. Which is a weird space to be evaluating an album, where your main critique of an album is that it isn't an all-time classic, that you agree the songs are good and that a lot are great (and there's some great fuckin' songs, "Either Way" is just, yerrrgh, that's a toughie), but sometimes, it feels like there's some ingredient missing from the mix. I think it just feels too perfect. This man has a perfectly tortured voice, capable of translating any sort of pain and misery he feels, and he's using it to craft perfect country songs about country things like drinking and being in jail. It feels like he's content to do great things within the confines of the genre when he could be reinventing it, which, hey, fair enough, Chris Stapleton making really good country songs is a thing in this world I'm not complaining about, and if he never unlocks the potential I believe he has and only ever makes songs like "Death Row," I'd be cool with that choice.

2) Chi-Raq, dir. Spike Lee: Because I am ignorant of any piece of media that was made before 2003, I did not know what the Greek drama this was based off was about, so when I realized it was a film about women withholding sex made by the dude who made She Hate Me (this is an unfair comment because I haven't seen the film, but I'm pretty sure that's an unpleasant movie), I kinda prepped myself for an uncomfortable experience. And then the film ended up being fucking fantastic. The fact that the "no peace, no pussy" protest elicits a reaction of "Well, we have dicks. They love our dicks! Surely, if we just remind them of the fact of our dicks we'll put an end to this nonsense" is not just what would obviously happen should a similar protest occur in reality, it calls attention to the fact that so many problems facing the world are being caused by dudes who can't see past the apparent power of their dicks. (I will bring to the grave the belief that, if all the Republican presidential candidates held a joint press conference to tell Donald Trump he had a large penis, Donald Trump would have suspended his campaign and receded into the background.) But more importantly, this film has things to say about this country. It hits on everything, and it hits it hard. It calls out gang violence for bringing strife to black communities, then calls out the people who would use that strife to undermine causes like Black Lives Matter. It's a film stylized all the way to hell that remains grounded in reality because, what with the lists of names the film brings up (multiple lists, and nary a name repeated on any of these lists), it's impossible to fully escape reality. It's an astonishing film from a master director on a subject he's had to explore too often. (Also, Samuel L. Jackson having the time of his life as a Greek chorus.)

3) The Intervention, dir. Clea DuVall: I can never remember which character from Parks & Rec elicited this Perd Hapley line that has stayed with me forever, but all the same, some character asks Perd Hapley "Do you know what I mean?" and Perd responds, "I don't! But it had the tone and cadence of a joke." I have used that line to describe so many things where I respect the attempt at humor but don't ever laugh. This film is an example of what I'd use that line to describe. There's a lot of funny people in the cast, and there were plenty of comedic set-ups, but nothing like an actual joke. I think the film wanted to be a serious meditation on the relationships between these people (who were related in some convoluted way or another), so it tried to distance itself from the comedy, but it never took anything serious enough for the emotional moments to land with any impact. I wouldn't attribute this to the cast -- Melanie Lynskey is fantastic, and I completely forgot but Cobie Smulders can do goddamn work y'all -- more to the point that, hey, there's a low ceiling and low floow for movies about upper-middle-class white folks who only share quiet and emotionally difficult moments with other upper-middle-class white folks, and this film lands somewhere in the middle. I saw this the same day I saw Chi-Raq. Y'all tryna get away with pointin' a camera at some randos, and that's not gonna cut it.

4) All the Beauty in This Whole Life, by Brother Ali: On my personal Top 20 list for the year, I have this ahead of DAMN. It's 10% contrarianism, 20% homerism, 65% this is an amazing record by an amazing man, 5% no one at any point shouts KUNG FU KENNY. It's easy to make an angry political record. I think Rise Against is releasing an album this year, and it's already getting an A- and barely missing the Top 20, because times are shitty and it's easy to be angry. It's hard to look at the world as it is today and find things to defend, reasons to keep going. The most profound political statement to be made is that the world is fundamentally good and needs to be protected from those bringing it ruin, and Brother Ali makes that statement with authority. We'll have plenty of time and reasons to get angry in the coming days/months/years/decades. This is a record advising you to take a second to reflect on what's good in the world, the reasons hate came to be, what we can do to bring out the beauty, to explore what peace we can find before we start a war. It's powerful, amazing work.

5) Bone Tomahawk, dir. S. Craig Zahler: Not gonna lie: took a catnap in the middle of this one, very short, not even sure I was asleep, but definitely let the ol' eyeballs have a rest for a couple seconds. Didn't feel like I missed much plot-wise when I woke up, though. Probably missed a lot of beautiful shots of the Western hills (ok, THIS film is how you break in an HD display, I feel, nuts to Interstellar), but hoo boy, this film moved slowly! On the whole, the film was pretty great, I loved the way it built that town's community in just the one emergency meeting scene ("Look at the mayor when you're addressing him." "Yeah! Look at me!"), but there's a lot of time spent with gruff Westerners speaking softly about the great and terrible things they've done, and impeccably composed as those shots were, I can only be so interested in the things Matthew Fox has to say. (Also, hey there, central romance between a dude and a woman 22 years younger than him.) The film builds to the conclusion well, it picked up the pace a few scenes after my nap most regrettable, and I typically can enjoy a glacially-paced film now and then without sleeping, but if you have a worse attention span than me, this ain't rhe film for you.

6) Spades and Roses, by Caroline Spence: i do not remember how i came to add this particular indie singer-songwriter's ablum to my queue, but here we are, and this was fine! This was fine. I liked it. I rode on a bus and listened to this album, and I thought the young woman sang soft and sweet though potentially dark songs over gentle acoustic guitars. I cannot say I regret listening to this album, though I find myself unable to say much beyond that, because it was fine.

7) Souvenir, by Banner Pilot: I listened to this pop/punk album from an act I understand to be local after Spades and Roses, and one thing I should learn to do is try to pair albums better so that I'm not dealing with a change in mood this intense, so that there's a logical flow to the albums, some thematic link, not just "I added some shit to the library and I guess I'm listening to these today." Figuring thiis sort of stuff out is kinda hard, y'know? Like, I don't want to feel like I'm adding stuff to the library just to get it out of the way three weeks later, and maybe that colors my experience with albums like this or Spades and Roses, where they're fine but not necessarily something I feel I need to listen to twice, but if I come away from an album thinking I don't need to listen to it twice to get the full story, I'm not sure I'm being completely fair to the album. ...This review isn't so much a review of the album itself as much as it's a review of how I listen to music. C-. Needs a lot of improvement.

8) spin, by Tiger's Jaw: OK so I can tell ya right now I fucked up listening to this one. I was distracted, I had connection issues, I went grocery shopping and spent the majoirty of the grocery shopping twist asking myself what groceries I needed instead of what this album was doing for me, I did the thing where I treated music like background noise and not the thing I should be paying attention to. I thought the album was OK, but I could tell that it came to me on the wrong day, that maybe I should have put on something I'd heard before, and saved this one for a time when I could give this what it deserves. Bad week for me and my listening habits. Like, I do the thing with movies where I put the film on full screen and only check my phone to check the time, I need to find the thing for music that gets me to pay attention to music for more than one song at a time.

9) Brooklyn Nine-Nine s4, cr. Michael Schur & Dan Goor: I'm beginning to think this show would be the rare half-hour sitcom to benefit from a 13-episode order. This does action-comedy so well, but you can't really sustain the intensity of the action-comedy aspects of the show over 22 episodes, but then they have to fill the rest of the episodes with hangout-sitcommy bits that are very hit-and-miss for me. Once the show has a plot, it sings, but when it's doing its mystery-of-the-week thing what with A, B, and C plots so the entire cast has things to do, it can feel unfocused. I mean, hey, I watched every episode, I think the show is hilarious (I will sing Andre Braugher's praises until they can hear me from the moon), but I had to learn to deal with its inconsistency. Maybe not a Hall of Famer, but so many All-Stars never make the Hall of Fame, y'know?

10) Blue Velvet, dir. David Lynch: I saw this on Saturday night, and I'm still trying to process it. I'm actually not sure right now that I've seen a David Lynch movie before, which might explain why I feel so off-sync with this film; I've seen season one of Twin Peaks, but I'm otherwise unfamiliar with what he does, beyond a David Foster Wallace essay about the director. Perhaps I've become too desensitized to violence to understand what's shocking about the violence in Blue Velvet, or too many films derivative of Lynch to see what's uniquely Lynchian about Blue Velvet. I do see the central point and believe it's fascinating -- the only think keeping Jeffrey Beaumont from actually being Frank Booth is a sense of decorum, that Jeffrey needs to be Jeffrey to live in civilized society, but the only thing Frank does that Jeffrey only does reluctantly is Violence, and now I'm realizing this is Hannibal, that's where I saw this movie, was Hannibal, OK, OK, cool cool cool, but also, that theme of the darkness within, of people like Frank being everywhere, it resonates, because now we live in a world where we can remove ourselves from a sense of decorum and be Frank. To see Frank Booth in 2017 is to see the manifestation of a Twitter egg. So in the course of this review, we discovered that we are on this film's wavelength, and that the distance we had to bridge was created by seeing Lynchian works and living in the end times.

[fallen029]

Remember Me: Retribution.2

Previous Chapter

"You're home!" Navi, unconcerned with Erza and her predicament in that moment, rushed right over to her parents. Tossing her arms around her father, she giggled as she stared up at him. Then she noticed that he wasn't looking at her, but rather was frowning over at the boy who had just challenged Erza.

"Sentence me to death?" Erza stared at Ravan in confusion. "I do not know what town you are speaking of. And Laxus, why-"

"The little freak pickpocketed me and then started spouting off how much he wanted to kill you." Laxus winked at her. "Thought I'd kill two birds with one stone. Get back at my pickpocket and let you get out some aggression, eh?"

"I am not going to…fight the child," Erza said, bowing her head slightly before looking at him once more. "You must be clearer. I do not understand what it is that you are so upset with me for, but I am certain that if you just tell me, we will be able to come to some sort of agreement, yes?"

"No!" And with that, he lunged at her with his sword, though that was in vain. Erza easily sidestepped the boy before moving to grab his arm, much the same as Laxus had earlier that day. Once again, he summoned another weapon in his other hand, but the result was the same. Erza released him before knocking that weapon away as well.

"Ravan," his brother whispered as Haven only sneered. It was her father that spoke though.

"You're gonna need a new move, kid," he said simply. "You're gonna be a reequip mage, it's more than just being able to call up weapons."

"In other words," his oldest was quick to add. "You suck."

"You shut up!" His anger at Erza was swirling around with embarrassment as he turned on Haven. When she raised a fist to him though, Locke reached out to grab it.

"Leave him alone."

"You shut up too," the boy growled. "I don't need you protectin' me! I… I'm gonna kill you!"

He turned back on Erza so quickly then that he was almost certain he would at least land some sort of blow on her. A punch or scratch. Something. But she merely reached her own hand out and, growing a tad impatient, shoved him to the ground.

"This is neither the time nor place for such a fight," she told him simply. "You are in someone else's establishment. Should you wish to discuss something with me, have at it. If not, I suggest that you step outside. I have just returned from a job and have no desire to-"

"Did you botch that one too?"

Still, Erza only frowned down at him. "I still do not know what you are-"

"You wanna fight with Erza, eh?" Natsu had come over then, seeing that the excitement was dying down, and went over to Mirajane to order some grub. "Get in line."

"And then get some good health insurance," Gray added as he too approached the bar. Mirajane was transfixed though, watching the child that had attacked Erza with concerned eyes. He just stayed down though, where she'd shoved him, staring up at her with such admonishment that it was clear his dreams had been crushed. He'd no doubt thought about it for some time, as odd as it sounded, even in Mirajane's mind, about taking Erza down. She knew, of course, whatever transgression that he thought the woman had taken upon him or his village was no doubt imagined, but still. He and his brother had come all the way and…

"Oh, Mira," Laxus complained as she started to tear up.

"Well, it's sad," she told him.

"You cry at everything."

"And?"

"Ew," Haven complained as she glanced over at the bar too. Locke, releasing her arm then, took to snickering.

"You're mom's crying."

"Shut up!"

"So are he and Erza not gonna fight?" Navi was asking her mother as the woman went to take a seat at one of the tables, though she kept glancing over at where her teammate was glaring down at the child.

"Of course not," she told her as her daughter joined her. "Erza wouldn't hurt him."

"But what if he's the one that hurts her?" Navi wasn't much of the optimist when it came to fights. Ever.

"That couldn't happen," Happy told her as he landed on the table, the little girl scrambling to get a seat next to her mother.

"Are you sure?"

'Of course," he said. "Erza is…well…Erza. She's super scary."

That was true. Still, Navi said, "So is he. He tried to take money from Master. And you gotta be pretty bad to do that, huh?"

"Or stupid," Lucy mumbled as she took to resting her head on the table.

"What's wrong?" her daughter was quick to ask, frowning at her. "Mommy?"

"She's a whiner," Happy said, though he did come to pat Lucy on the head. "'cause she's useless on jobs."

"You're gonna get it when I feel better, cat," was her soft threat. He just grinned at Navi who giggled.

Ravan though was still on the ground, teeth stuck in a hard snarl as his younger brother came to pat him on the shoulder.

"Ain't you gonna get up?" the little boy asked. "Ra- Ravan!"

He only shoved him away before jumping to his feet. To Erza, he simply yelled, "I'll kill you for what you did! So stop denying it. It's your fault that our village is gone. It's your fault that my parents died. You did it! And then you act like you don't got no idea what I'm talking about? You're nothin', but a liar and a crook and how dare you call yourself a mage? You're nothing! And when I kill you, you're gonna get that. I'll make you remember. I…I…"

But the boy had worked himself up then and all the emotions he'd felt about finally making it to Magnolia and getting his showdown with the great Titania had begun to tip over in the form of tears, which ran hot down his face.

Suddenly, it wasn't so funny to Locke and Haven who only stared at him, not sure what to do. Erza either as the boy only came to, one last time, shove at her, before running passed her and out of the building. His brother was quick to follow, calling his name. And, not wanting to let her only real friend slip through her grasps, Marin tried to head after them as well, but Erza caught her when she passed.

"Wait," she called after the boy. "You don't gotta go."

Erza just held her arm though, until the boys were long gone, before heading over to the bar.

"Mira," she said as the demon took to sniffling. "Can you give me a map? Perhaps if I can locate this Shadebay, I will recall what exactly I have done to receive such a sentence."

"Daddy." Marin had come over then to tug at his pants. When he glanced down at her, she only said, "Make 'em come back. We were playing. And now they're gone."

"They're not your friends," he told her simply. "They want to hurt you. They-"

"Laxus." Mirajane had recovered, if only somewhat, with a wonderful idea striking her about then. "I want you to-"

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't."

"Then what, Mirajane? Huh? And if it has to do with those boys-"

"I want you to go get them and let them stay with us."

He blinked. Then he frowned. "Okay. So I didn't know what you were going to say. I'll give you that. But that's only because it was completely ludicrous."

"I'm not going to let them stay on the street, Laxus," she said simply. "I-"

"They're not staying with us," Haven said as she came back over to the bar, Locke trailing behind. She felt bad, yeah, watching that boy cry, but she still hated him. Pretty intensely. He'd not only stole from Laxus and tried to hurt Erza, but more importantly, he'd ruined her fun day of getting a toy and ice cream. The jerk. "I don't like him. I-"

"Adult talk," Laxus said, making a face at her. "Go find Erza a map."

"You go find-" When she saw her father's look, she turned to walk off. "Fine. Come on, Locke."

"Come on and what?"

"I said to come on!"

Marin didn't wanna go with them though and, using her parents' distraction to her advantage, set out on finding her friend. Only a few months back, she, her sister, and Locke had been taken when they left the guild grounds by her grandfather, so she knew better than to leave the protection of those gates, but figured if she looked around outside a little, maybe she'd be able to find them.

She sure hoped so.

"They can't stay with us, Mirajane," Laxus told her with a frown. "This might be shocking to you, but we do have two daughters in that house too. And those boys clearly-"

"They have nowhere else to go. And I know that when Elfman, Lisanna, and I were just out on the street, all we wanted was for someone to show us that sort of kindness. And Master did. He let us stay at Fairy Tail and-"

"And what? So? I don't care."

"Laxus-"

"What about the dormitory?" Erza asked. She was still rather confused by the whole thing, but being orphaned herself didn't rather like the idea of the boys living out on the streets, if that were true.

"They don't want to be a part of this guild. Hell, he tried to kill you, Erza," Laxus complained. "What is wrong with you women in this guild and your weak hearts?"

"It's called compassion, Laxus." Mirajane went to fill Gray's beer as she added, "And besides, those are filled to capacity right now. We're not even really taking in new members right now."

"I don't care," her husband said with a shake of his head. "If they come back, I'll try and find them some help, but they're not going to be staying in a house with my daughters. They're just not."

"Laxus-"

"No, Mira."

"You don't get it. You've never lived out on the street. You-"

"I don't know what it's like to lose my damn parents, Mira?"

"That's not what I said."

Natsu, growing bored with the conversation, called out for Mirajane to bring him and Happy some fish before walking off, over to where his wife was sitting.

"Still fillin' bad, Luce?" he asked after tapping Navi on the head and taking a seat across from them. "You can go home. Show's over, I think."

"I think I will," she said, lifting her head a little to peak out at him. "You guys don't care if I go, do you?"

"Nope," Happy said. "Not at all."

"I was serious about what I said, cat."

"Just go, Luce," Natsu said. To Happy, he said, "Then we don't have to share our food."

"You know that it's just my stomach that's upset and my head that hurts, right? I still have hearing," Lucy complained.

Her husband only grinned. "What about you then, Navi? You gonna go home with Lucy or you gonna stay with us?"

"Can I?" she asked, glancing at Lucy. "I don't have to go home?"

"I don't guess so," she said. "I figured you'd want to after staying with Locke these past few days."

"I wanna stay and play with Happy and Dad."

"Okay, then." She gave her daughter a kiss to the head before getting to her feet. "I don't see her around, but if you do, Natsu, would you tell Levy thanks for watching Navi while we're gone?"

"Sure," he said, though they all knew he'd forget before it ever happened. "You want me to bring you somethin' home?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I think I'll just go sleep this off. Try not to wake me when you guys come in, okay? I love you, Navi."

"Love you," she giggled back. She really did, too. Still though, her father and Happy were much more fun when Lucy wasn't around. "Bye!"

It was right when Lucy was leaving that Haven and Locke returned over to the bar area to give Erza that map.

"Thank you," she said, moving her beer aside so that she could unfold it. "Tell me, did he say anything to the two of you that might tell you what exactly it is that I have done to offend him?"

"Nope," Locke said. "Just started fightin' us. Err, well, Haven started fighting him."

"Of course I did," she said with a frown at him. "That's what you do."

"It is not," Mira told her from across the bar. "Those boys are probably going through more right now than you ever will. Hopefully."

Laxus only downed the rest of his beer before saying, "Thought you'd at least give him a little fight, Erza. Change armor once or something. Give the kid a story to tell."

"Not everyone is cruel," she replied.

"I ain't cruel," he was quick to say. "Not anymore anyhow."

"He is," Haven whispered to Locke who just nodded.

"So is my dad. He-" Locke stopped then, grinning. "Oh, yeah. Now that Navi's parents are back, my dad said that he'd take me out trainin' with him and Lily."

That got rid of one of them, at least, as the boy ran off to go remind his father of this. The man was still grumbling to Lily that if a boy had showed up wanting retribution from him, he'd have beat the tar outta him. Lily was only half listening though and was glad when Locke asked to go training.

"How come we don't go training today?" Haven asked her own father as her friend departed. "Laxus?"

"'cause I we went to the toy- Oh yeah." He laughed then. "Guess that brat did somethin' right. Kept me from having to go on that stupid misadventure."

"That's not fair." Haven wasn't giving up. She didn't wanna have to stay at the stinky guild all day. Especially if Locke got to go do something cool. "Laxus-"

"Why don't you go ask Gajeel if you can go train with them too?" Mirajane mostly just wanted her daughter gone so she could yell at her husband some more. "I'm sure he'll let you tag along."

"Gross. I don't wanna train with stupid Locke."

"Considering none of the other kids in the neighborhood like to play with you," Laxus retorted, "I think you might learn to."

"You're stupid, Laxus."

"Go, Haven," he said. "It'll do you good. And save me some trouble."

Secretly, she really liked that idea and knew if she debated it any more, she might miss her chance. So she took off after them, not wanting to get left behind.

"I cannot find a Shadebay anywhere on this map," Erza was complaining then as Gray peered over as well. "Perhaps this boy has mistaken me completely."

"He must," her partner offered up. "I mean, we all know that you didn't actually destroy his village."

Laxus snorted. "Seemed to know you pretty well. 'cept for the fact he had no idea he'd get his ass kicked if he went up against ya."

"I still think it's very sad," Mira said. "And honestly, Laxus, I'm a little shocked you don't."

"Why? I mean, apparently, I'm cruel."

Erza glanced at him. "Tell me that you are not hurt by my words."

"Of course not," he grumbled. "I'm a little peeved at you though, demon."

"Why? Because I have a heart?"

"And here we go."

"Laxus, seriously. What if something happens to them? That would weigh on my conscious. Would it not yours? Or do you even have one?"

"You'd think these are things that she'd have gone over with him before they started having kids," Gray mumbled to Erza. She just kept searching the map though.

"The desecration of an entire village is not something one easily forgets," she said simply. "I… Of course."

"Of course what?" Laxus, just wanting his wife off his back, tuned back into that conversation. "You suddenly remember destroying this kid's town? Killin' his parents? Maybe you ain't so far from cruel yourself."

"Of course not," Erza said, frowning at him. "But, nearly two years ago, I answered a request of some sea monster that had destroyed a town. It wasn't not this Shadesbay, but there were many small villages around, some of which were demolished. By the time I arrived, there was little I could do for those people, but I did defeat the monster. I suppose there is a possibility that his village is one of those."

"That makes no sense," Mirajane said. "Why would he blame you for that? I mean-"

"It makes sense," Gray told her, "if you're a little boy who's just lost everything."

Erza sighed heavily. "I suppose I am to find this boy then, yes? And explain things to him?"

Laxus held up his mug for his wife to refill. "Or offer yourself up for capital punishment."

"I'm glad that you're just so jovial about all of this," Mirajane said with a frown. "I mean, honestly, Laxus."

"What do you want from me, woman?" he grumbled. "I'm sorry for this kid that he's having to live like that, but you can't help someone with that much anger and resentment in them. You just can't. He'll have to come to terms with shit on his own. I ain't in charge of him. I got my own kids, my own life, my own- Hey. Where's Marin?"

That made Mira stop as well and glance around. "I don't know. She was here a minute ago. I'm sure she just went downstairs or something. I think Elfman's down there."

"Yeah, well, I'm not." Forgetting his beer then, Laxus got to his feet. "She went after that boy, I bet. Either that or Haven."

"Not Haven," Mira said. "She wouldn't want to go watch them train."

"Perhaps she's with Navi," Erza offered up as she went back to the map.

"Navi's over there," the she-devil said, nodding over at where the girl sat with her father. "So go find her then, Laxus, if you're that concerned."

Oh, he was. He'd gone through losing his daughters before and never was again. If those boys knew magic, then there was a chance that they were dangerous. Even without it, they were. And if she had left the grounds without someone, well, she'd be in big trouble then.

But she hadn't , of course. She was actually busy at the moment, trekking through the shrubbery around the large gates, thinking that maybe the boys were hiding there. It was while she was doing that though that she heard the return of people she liked even more than Team Natsu.

"It is just dreadfully hot today, isn't it?"

"Least you ain't gotta wear a face mask."

"Mask," five voices echoed.

"No one makes you wear that ugly thing, Bickslow, but you."

"And no one makes you date Elfman, Ever, but you and yet we gotta hear about it," the seith replied.

Freed though led the way, overly excited at the thought of greeting Laxus and telling him all about how they'd, once again, pulled off a stunning job. Ever just kept fanning herself, only planning on stopping in at the guild to collect her boyfriend before returning home. Bickslow had much of the same desire. He wanted to go home too, but figured it'd be good to get a drink before he did. Having a toddler and Lisanna waiting for him back at their apartment, he figured he'd need it.

It was while they were coming through the gate though that Ever noticed someone coming out of the bushes. The white hair was easily recognizable.

"What are you doing, Marin?" Ever called out to her, coming to a stop. Freed, too worked up over seeing Laxus, carried on, while Bickslow headed over to the girl as well. "Playing hide-and-seek?"

"No," she said, rushing over to her aunt and uncle. "I'm lookin' for somebody though."

"Who?" Bickslow asked.

"Who?" His dolls came to circle around the girl in their usual fashion. "Who?"

Giggling, she said, "My friend."

"Navi?" Ever asked. "Or Locke?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I dunno his name."

Frowning then, Bickslow looked around suspiciously. "And you met him in the bush?"

More giggles. "No! He's Ravan's brother."

"And he's a little boy?" Ever was glancing around too. "Marin?"

"Uh-huh. He and his brother tried to take money from Laxus today, when we were going to the toy store, but he stopped 'em. Then Mommy made 'em food back here at the guild and Ravan, the big one, he tried to fight Erza!"

"Well," her aunt said slowly. "Someone does need to take her down a peg."

"Come on, Mar." Bickslow moved to take her hand, still glancing around. He didn't like the idea of her hanging around the front of the guild, looking for strange people. "Let's go inside and talk to your dad about it, huh?"

"Okay," she said slowly, not really one to go against her uncle. She really loved him. Just as much as Elf. "But he doesn't like them."

"If they stole from him," Ever remarked, "I can see why."

Glancing up at the woman, Marin smiled when she saw her carrying her hand fan. "Can I see it?"

"What? This?" Ever gave it to the girl as they were coming up to the guildhall anyhow. "Just don't break it."

Marin liked pretending to be Evergreen. She was pretty awesome. Elf thought so too.

Before they could make it into the guild, they saw Laxus coming out of it, Freed with him.

"Marin," he complained when he saw her, advancing on the three of them. "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere," she said.

"Nowhere, huh?"

Bickslow, never one for seeing his niece in trouble, squeezed her hand. "She wasn't doin' nothing bad, boss. Just lookin' around in the bushes, yeah?"

"For some boy or something," Ever added.

Laxus frowned at hearing that as Marin just stared up at him.

"For my friend."

"That boy is not your friend."

"Yes, he is."

"You've known him, what, Marin? An hour? If that?"

"So?"

Groaning, Laxus glanced at Ever and Bickslow before saying, "Give us a minute?"

"Mmmm, alright, boss," the seith said slowly, releasing the child's hand. "But don't be too hard on her, huh?"

"You too, Freed," Laxus had to add when the man didn't move though his other teammates did. Still, he bowed his head before walking off and into the guildhall as well.

Marin only moved to unfold the hand fan before using it, giggling slightly. Laxus, seeing this, rolled his eyes before turning to walk the grounds.

"Come on, kid," he said. "It's been awhile since we've gotten to be alone anyhow."

The child was quick to follow. "Was I bad?"

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "You're just… You can't be so soft around people if you're gonna be a mage. That's all."

"I don't wanna be a mage though," she told him honestly. "I wanna live with you and Mommy forever and never have to go nowhere."

Well, wasn't that an easy to accomplish dream…

Sighing, he said, "You know, Marin, I don't know if those boys are coming back or not, but if they do, it probably won't be with good intentions."

"What do you mean?"

"They wanna hurt Erza," he said simply. "And that's no good. You know that."

Looking to the ground then, she said, "I know."

"They're not friends. Not until that all gets worked out."

They were passing the outside area then where Max's little shop was. Seeing it made Marin bow her head.

"Daddy?"

"Hmmm?"

"I spent my money."

"What money?"

"The money you gave me for the toy shop."

Frowning, he said, "You gave it to those boys? Marin-"

"No. I bought a statue at the shop. Of Erza. To show it to them so they knew that it wasn't our Erza. But it was." Sniffling then, she glanced back up at him. "How could that be true though, Daddy? Erza doesn't ever do wrong, does she?"

"Everyone does wrong, Marin," he said then. "But no. Erza didn't do anything to them. They're just… I don't really know. But I know Erza didn't do whatever they think she did."

"Then maybe," she slowly said. "They can come back and you can explain it to 'em and they can stay and be members and be friends and then I can play with them?"

He couldn't help it then. No one made him smile like his youngest did. Reaching down to pat her on the head, he said, "You aren't that strapped for friends, are ya, kid?"

"I just feel bad. They were hungry and didn't have nowhere to go. They only tried to take your money 'cause they needed it. And you gotta lot of it, huh?"

Leaving his hand where it was on her head, he said simply, "If they come back and don't try to kill Erza, you can make sure they got another bowl of soup. Okay?"

Somewhat content then, she said, "Guilds aren't bad, are they, Daddy? Like they were saying?"

"Of course not."

"Are they good then?"

"Not all of them."

"But-"

"Not everything's that simple, kid. Some things are both bad and good. Black and white."

With a shake of her head, Marin said, "I don't get it."

"All you gotta know is that Erza's one of the good guys, huh?"

"And you too?"

He laughed slightly as he said, "Yeah. Me too."

"How come you didn't wanna fight with the other kids, Navi?"

"Huh?"

That was the question Natsu posed to the little girl as they walked down the road with one another, Happy flying up above.

"You know," he said. "Fightin'. I heard from some of the others that Haven and that boy that was trying to attack Erza had a pretty good scrap going. Her and Locke too. But you didn't do anything?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head.

"How come?"

"I dunno," she said. "I just didn't wanna."

"Leave her alone, Natsu," Happy complained form the air. "You're such a bully."

"I ain't bullying nobody," he said. "Especially not Navi. I was just wondering."

"I don't really like fighting," she told her father. Not for the first time either. But then, she had to remind him of things a whole lot. Her mother said that he had selective memory, which apparently meant he only remembered that he loved them and how to use his magic. "At all."

"Really?" Natsu frowned. "How could you not like it? It's great! I loved it when I was a kid. I'd fight with everyone."

"You still fight with everyone," his best friend pointed out from above.

"I just… I like using magic to help people," she said slowly, thinking about it. With a glance up at the man, she said, "Not hurting them."

"Hmmm." Natsu thought about it too, but then shook his head. "I still like getting into it. Especially with Gray. Gah! Somethin' just gets me about him."

"Like Locke and Haven," she giggled.

"I guess so."

They'd waited a long time to go home. It was getting rather late and Navi, growing tired, reached out to grab her father's hand as she yawned. He just grinned at this, glancing down at her, before looking around again. The streets were pretty empty and he knew it was way passed her bedtime. Lucy would kill him when they finally got home. Maybe, hopefully, she'd still be asleep and they'd be able to sneak in.

"Look!" Navi tugged his hand then, coming to a swift stop and pulling him to one as well. Frowning, Natsu followed where she was pointing as Happy stopped moving also. "It's those boys."

It was too. They were across the street and, from the looks of it, in some sort of exchange with some other local troublemakers. It was clear that they had already schooled the younger boys and no doubt taken whatever little bit of jewels they had. The one that had attacked Erza, Ravan, was on the ground, all the fight out of him, while his brother sat on his knees next to the boy, holding his head and sobbing.

"Happy," Natsu said as he wiggled free of his daughter's grasp. "Take Navi home. I'll be there soon."

"Aye, sir," he was quick to say, moving to pick the girl up and fly her there. She was quick to rush and grab Natsu's hand again though. When he glanced down at her, he found his own stare mirrored.

"No," she said simply. "I wanna help."

"Navi," Happy whispered, but her father only nodded slightly.

He'd never let anything happen to her, of course, but if she wanted to even learn to be a real mage, then she had to earn her stripes.

"Hey," he called out as they crossed the empty street, his daughter releasing his hand while Happy only dropped out of the sky. He wasn't going to let any of those guys touch Navi either. "What do you think you're doing?"

There were four of them. Big guys too. To Navi, everyone that was older than her was an adult, like her parents, but they were actually younger that Natsu. And with those seven Tenrou years, they were way younger. Probably in their late teens or early twenties.

"What business is it of yours?" one of them challenged, sneering at Natsu. Navi only came over to the younger boys, frowning down at the older one. Ravan. The hoodie he'd been wearing had been ripped even more and was barely staying on his shoulders anymore. With no shirt beneath, Navi was able to see his chest, which was sporting numerous scars as well as some fresh wounds. For all his boasting, he apparently wasn't as good with those weapons as he bragged. "Old man?"

"It ain't," Natsu said simply as he just glared at them. "Until you start picking on little kids. And that just isn't something I can walk away from. I wouldn't think anyone could, but scum like you, I guess."

"What'd you say?" Another one in the group, a man with muscles that Navi thought only Elfman could beat, stepped forward, pounding his fists together. Natsu didn't even flinch.

"Navi," he said simply as he banging his own fists together. "You said you only like using magic to help people, huh?"

Though she'd been brave before, some of her own adrenaline was fading, so she could only nod.

"Well, I'mma about to show you what that means," he told her. "Because I'm gonna help these chumps see why you don't insult a Fairy Tail wizard."

"Well," Happy offered up. "They are kinda right. You are getting old."

That broke Natsu's concentration as he turned to look down at his blue friend. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You are."

"I am not!"

"Old man Dragneel is what I call you behind your back."

"Hey, Happy! That's not cool!"

"I'm just kidding," the cat snickered. "I mean, sheesh, Natsu, you- Uh, Natsu?"

"What?" He glanced back up again, frowning when all he saw were the fleeing backs of the four men. "Huh?"

"I think they finally realized who you are," Happy said. "The great, aging Salamander!"

Too annoyed to be upset with his friend then, he frowned before moving to take off after the men. "Hey! Get back here! I don't hardly get to have a good fight anymore. I wasn't really gonna hurt ya! Come on."

"Dad," Navi complained, making the man come to a stop before glancing back at her. She sounded real upset. When he looked at her, he saw why. "You're not helping!"

He didn't want to. Not really. He wanted to go after those guys. But…Navi…

Turning back to her, he walked over to the boys before getting down on his knees as well.

"What happened?" he asked though the older boy, clearly hurt, just glared at him.

"Go away." He was struggling to sit up then, refusing to look weak in front of one of the Erza Scarlet's cohorts. "We don't need your help."

His little brother wasn't as stubborn. "We were trying to find somewhere to sleep, but they were in the alley when we got in there and they just… They took the pouch that Ravan has. We don't have nothing else and-"

"Shut up," his brother growled, finally finding the strength to get to his feet. "And come on. We didn't need you and we still don't need you. I'm going to kill your stupid friend and then I'm going to be done with your worthless guild. So just leave us alone!"

He walked off them, limping heavily, while his brother was quick to follow. When Navi turned to go after them, Natsu reached out to lay a hand on her head.

"Dad-"

"You wanna learn how to help people, Nav," he sighed as he got to his own feet, "then you gotta learn when and how. Trust me, you'll get your chance to. Soon, I bet. But right now, your mom's at home sick and there ain't nothing we can do for them."

"But what if something happens to them?"

"Those guys that ran off think they're affiliated with Fairy Tail now," he said simply. "So everyone in the city will before long. No one will touch 'em for fear of one of us coming down on them."

"But-"

"And even if they did," he said as he helped her up, "they made it this far. They'll be fine for the night."

Navi wasn't convinced though. And, when Natsu took her hand once more, she only said, "Then we can look for them in the morning?"

"Sure," he said as Happy took to the air once more. He had a feeling though that it wouldn't be hard to find them. "First thing."

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