#but you know the next time she loses her temper that comment's going to pop back up

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katuski bakugou x gn!reader 

a/n : y’all this was gonna be for kirishima bc i love possessive kiri but like it works so well with bakugou. first part will be from third pov, following parts will be from second pov (reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3)

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: uhh idk a lil bit teeny-weeny dash of angst i guess 

warnings: mild cursing, possessive bakugou, mutual pining, jealousy, aged-up to third year, possessive y/n, love triangle (square?), implied manga spoilers but not directly stated, tiny bitta tokage slander (sorry lol), slow burn romance (like SLOWWW SLOW BURN), lowkey enemies to lovers, like a lotta tension between bakugou and y/n 

word count: 3k

UNEDITED w/ minimal or no typos. i shoved it into grammarly’s ass and prayed for the best okay 

here’s pt 2 loves <3

- - - 

y/n was used to picking and their skin, irritated at the girls fawning over bakugou. they were always on the sidelines, watching from afar, jealousy warping their heart. could these stupid girls not see that bakugou didn’t even care for their attention? 

this time it was setsuna tokage who was begging for his eyes on her. y/n assumed it started in their first year when they’d been put against one another when the classes still had a clashing rivalry. (they still did, much more tame now, however.) 

she leaned forwards, tugging on his short sleeve. bakugou’s uniform jacket was slung over one shoulder. he’d lost a lot of his angry demeanor from when he was younger, however it was easy to tell when he was pissed. it was inevitable he wasn’t going to lose his temper entirely. 

it was easy to ignore the girls—most of the time, at least. what was ticking y/n off the most was the fact that bakugou didn’t seem pissed at all. his face was neutral, almost like the perfect mirror of todoroki on a daily basis. his eyes were not fired up in his usual ‘get the hell off of me’ manner. he was relaxed. 

it didn’t seem like he reciprocated tokage’s feelings, however he wasn’t doing anything to get her off him and it was pissing y/n off to no end. 

her sensuous lips were pushed into a slight pucker as she spoke, arching her back in a manner that made it appear much more provocative than she probably intended. 

bakugou stood there, eyes flicking from her grasp on his sleeve and back up to her eyes. he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, only kept looking her up and down. not in a romantic way, of course. right? 

y/n scoffed at themselves. they swallowed the lump in their throat, shoving down the pinging envy in their chest with it. why wasn’t he reacting? 

heat rushed to y/n’s cheeks. why do i care? 

tokage was nearing his face. she didn’t have any intent to press her lips to his, which y/n was more than glad for. 

y/n had come to the conclusion they had feelings for the explosive boy weeks ago. perhaps they always had, but now that they were fully conscious of them... gosh, it was frustrating. 

“you’re staring again.” 

y/n turned to see kirishima, the only other person who knew about their feelings for bakugou. he’d lost the twinkle in his eyes after first year. he’d picked up a dominating sneer and a withering glare reserved for anyone who desired to cross his friends. everyone at UA had after what went down. it was a shock most of them survived anything. 

“so?” y/n snapped, shoving their hands away and kicking a pebble before them. kirishima and y/n continued their walk through the courtyard. 

“so it makes you look creepy.” 

“no, it doesn’t. he didn’t even notice me.” 

kirishima snapped his fingers. “partially my point here. that’s bakugou katsuki, you really think he’s going to notice you?” 

“excuse me?” 

kirishima pursed his lips, twiddling his thumbs. “i didn’t mean it like that, y/n. it’s just...well, he has so much to work for.” 

y/n raised a brow, questioning his nervous antics. 

he continued. “bakugou works hard. probably the hardest worker in UA aside from midoriya. and it’s bakugou. he doesn’t really see a point in relationships. you know that.” 

“it’s not like i’m looking for anything with him, though. gosh, kirishima, you’re acting like this is some school girl crush.” 

he tilted his head, giving y/n a look that screamed, are you really sure it’s not though? 

y/n huffed out a breath, crossing their arms. they’d already vomited up their feelings, why all of a sudden call it a crush? sure, it was a tiny crush that was no larger than the brain of a dinosaur. 

“i can swear that it isn’t, kirishima. you’re looking too deep into things,” y/n defended once again. 

the red-head held his hands up in surrender, sucking his lips in to avoid another snarky comment slipping out. 

the two looked up at the towering building that had been home to them for the past three years: Heights Alliance. 

during their second year, the teachers had settled with having the dorms set up in a way that allowed the students’ rooms to be set up in a gender-neutral fashion. they’d been able to select new dorms beside whomever they wished. rooming next to kirishima was a blast, but the only person bakugou wanted to room next to was him. 

mina had moved in next to you, and kaminari to her right, and sero right across from y/n. 

y/n had no issue being squished between a group notorious for their goofiness and ability to never take anything seriously, however (especially on weekends) they were exceptionally loud to the point they were sure China could hear the blaring music. 

friday was finally going to be over in a few hours. y/n felt a giddiness well up inside them, anticipating the weekend. it’d been a rough few days, for everyone, not just them. 

class 1A had been bombarded with assignments and pop quizzes. y/n was lucky they finished it all in class. some of the homework was finished when they’d sacrificed their precious free time to get it done, but in the end, it was worth it all. 

y/n let their bag sag down their arms as they entered Heights Alliance. 

- 

bakugou had just been asked out on a date. for the third time. first time, he’d denied. second time, he had to shove tokage off him. third time, he’d calmly accepted her offer, and she’d skipped away with more than a smile. 

she’d squeezed his bicep, gave him a wink and an unnecessary peck on the cheek that bakugou had wiped off the moment she turned her back. he was now in his bathroom and, despite her not wearing any lipstick, he was scrubbing his cheek raw so that the skin was a blotchy red. 

the date was tonight, and he found himself wanting to go, and questioning why he accepted in the first place. 

bakugou forgot about tokage the second he won that match his first year and tossed her in the cage. he only noticed her when she and her group of friends giggled and passed by. (it was mostly her chortling, but whatever.) 

he continued rubbing his cheek aggressively with a scratchy towel. he was repulsed by how he had stood there without bothering to snap at her to leave him alone for the third time. 

instead, bakugou’s mind had buffered, and if he was in a video game, he had surely glitched. he should probably just tell tokage he didn’t want to go anymore. in fact, he never wanted to go in the first place and wants to jump out his window and escape. 

it was almost comedic. the thought of him going out on a date? goodness, he wanted to throw up. 

as he continued scrubbing the cloth along his cheek, bakugou found himself more than grateful for how much his quirk made him sweat. if it wasn’t for the nitroglycerin-like substance he produced, his skin would be scratched and dried up. 

a knock sounded at his door. silence came, until the knock found its way to his ears. a set of three knocks, then five, then it was a needy banging. 

whoever was on the other side heard his audible groan and shuffling feet dragging across the floor, because they knocked a lot harder. 

he swung the door open, hinges crying out. 

bakugou’s upper lip curled in disgust. tokage twirled her hair around a finger, eyelashes sticking together with mascara. “katsuki,’ she greeted. 

his eyes narrowed on her. “don’t call me that.” 

“what should I be calling you, then? baby? or honey?” 

oh yes, bakugou wanted to vomit. what even was her name again? whatever, it didn’t matter. “lizard teeth, listen. i-” 

“lizard teeth? why would you address me like that?” 

“because i don’t know your damn name, alright? i don’t-” 

“tokage. need me to spell it out for you?” 

“no. shut up. i need to-” 

“you should remember it, because i was one of the few who got in through recommendations, remember?” 

“and yet here you are in class 1B. can you shut the hell up now?” 

“well, you’re just being shitty.” 

“why are you here, tokage.” more of a demand than a question, as bakugou’s questions always came across if he ever bothered to ask them. 

“because, for our date tonight, I need to pick up some things and I really hope you’re up for coming with me.” 

“no.” 

“please?” 

“no. stop pushing. and I don’t want to-” 

“come on, grouchy.” tokage activated her quirk, one scale slipping into his dorm and pushing him towards her. she gripped the collar of his shirt and grinned. “come with me for a short bit, and I’ll count that as our date, m’kay?” 

bakugou opened his mouth once more to protest, but tokage silenced him by pressing one slender finger to his lips. 

“I’m fully aware you don’t want to go on this date with me.” 

he relaxed, shoulders slumping. if bakugou was younger, if he was even just a little bit more stubborn as he had been before, perhaps he’d be out of this mess already, or never in it in the first place. 

tokage let her hand fall back to her side—both of them. the scale returned to her lower calf; the jet-black leggings she wore now had a perfect hole in them.

“do you think i’m dense, bakugou?” 

“then why ask me out?” bakugou felt himself leaning back. 

“because if i can get under the skin of that stupid little...what do you like to call them? stupid little extras? yeah, that stupid extra who can’t stop fluttering googly-eyes at you every minute, then i’ll be perfectly content.” 

“who the hell are you talking about?” 

“alright, so you are oblivious.” tokage took a step back and crossed her arms. “are you both unaware of how you’ve both been pining for each other’s attention? y/n, that classmate of yours.” 

“...y/n?” 

“do you know their name or do i have to describe in excruciating detail what they look like?” 

“no, no i know who you’re talking about. but you’ve got to be shitting me, alright? there’s nothing there.” 

“i’m from 1B, and if there’s something going on in 1A, monoma is going to tell us.” 

“shithead, get out of my face.” 

“you still have to go out with me.” 

“why the f-” 

“because, bakugou. if you don’t, i’ll be sure to make sure y/n knows about your feelings, whether they’re real or not.” 

“why would they care? more importantly, why would you care?” 

- 

y/n kicked their feet up and down, a lollipop in their left hand, phone in their other. kirishima was in his bathroom while y/n was playing a game on their phone. they’d stashed away a bunch of candy back in their dorm and had snatched a handful for the two of them to share while hanging out in kirishima’s. 

he was currently combing a hand through his hair, and then proceeded to rummage through his cabinets. 

kirishima emerged with his lips puckered. “want to come to the  drug mart with me?” he stuck a thumb to his door. 

“what for?” y/n didn’t take a glance away from their phone. 

“this.” he chuckled softly. when y/n looked up, kirishima had two fingers parting his hair. the roots were a jet black, just growing long enough to become the slightest bit visible. 

“you’re going to fry your hair.” they were already shoving their phone away and tossing their sucker into the trash bin. 

“it’s a monthly tradition to do this, y/n. it would be fried by now if i was bad at it,” he joked, tapping his roots once more. 

y/n laughed alongside him as they exited the room. 

-

it was late, and the lights made everything feel like it was set in a world of backrooms. when the rest of the world is sleeping, it is more than quiet, and nothing feels real―possibly in the best ways. 

kirishima scratched at his chin, staring intensely at the hair-dye boxes lined neatly on the shelf before them. 

y/n tapped their foot, not out of impatience, but because of the creep staring at them through the aisle. yes, through. 

between the boxes of hair dye and scattered makeup products, the beady eyes of setsuna tokage could be seen. she smirked when she tugged her hostage closer. 

bakugou’s height had shot up to around six feet in the past two years, so all that was visible was his chest and the black sweatshirt loosely hanging off it, however his grumbling and stream of colorful language was unmistakable. it was him. 

“you okay?” 

y/n’s head snapped to their friend. “what?” 

“you seem on edge. is something wrong?” 

“nothing. nothing is wrong.” 

“you sure? if you need to talk, i’m here.” 

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. don’t worry.” 

“alright.” kirishima held up a box, wiggling it in one hand. “got it.” he gave y/n a toothy grin. 

“good.” y/n snatched his arm up and dragged him along. 

“woah,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle, tugging his arm back. “what’s got you in a hurry?” 

“nothing,” y/n said, shrugging. “just wanna get home.” 

gosh, kirishima knew them too well. his eyes squinted just a bit, and there was that playful grin lingering on his lips, just ghosting over his face, barely visible to anyone who didn’t know him. instead of pointing out the obvious, which was standing just a few aisles behind, kirishima decided to play around. “goodness, honey, the kids are going to be fine back home.” 

heat raced to y/n’s face. “what?” 

kirishima winked. “it’s nice that you care about them, but care about me a little, would’ya? i miss you, too,” he said a tad louder. 

this caught bakugou’s attention. his eyes clashed with y/n’s, and he didn’t look away until y/n did. even a few seconds after, y/n still felt the blaring heat of his gaze upon them.

kirishima slung an arm around his friend, enjoying their flustered image. of course, he would never even think about pushing boundaries. the thought never crossed his mind, but he knew they’d let him know if they were uncomfortable. 

when y/n looked back as kirishima led them away, bakugou’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes were alight with jealousy. 

of course, y/n didn’t notice the emotion flaring. 

tokage smirked, clutching his loose sleeve. 

y/n looked back to their friend, and kirishima flashed them another knowing smile. bakugou was getting antsy with his best friends’ hands all over y/n. well, not all over, but a tap on the shoulder was enough. 

despite the way kirishima’s face dropped, y/n swiped his arm away and wandered over to tokage a bit more angrily than intended. they glanced up to bakugou, who was reaching up to retrieve something for tokage. 

“what brings you guys here? didn’t expect to see you.” inside, y/n was screaming. gosh, their heart was angry. 

“just running errands together.” 

bakugou? going for errands? with tokage? 

“cool, cool,” y/n said, nodding. “i was doing the same with kirishima.” they paused, awkward silence filling the space. 

impatient as ever, bakugou tossed the item into tokage’s basket and clicked his tongue. 

y/n didn’t know why. why were they being so stubborn? despite their protesting thoughts and their entire body screaming to hold back, y/n wrapped their fingers around bakugou’s wrist. 

“actually, bakugou, i have something to ask you. i need your opinion on it. you’re smart, right?” y/n’s voice lifted at the end. although they couldn’t see the, what the hell are you doing face kirishima was making behind them as subtly as possible, they could definitely feel the glare burning into their back. 

“tch, of course i’m smart, shithead.” 

“good.” 

“we’re actually kind of in a rush,” tokage spat out, snappier than usual. 

“do you think i fight okay? i need someone  with a perspective like yours to know if i do.” 

“what kind of question is that, dumbass? i don’t care if you can fight well or not, just so long as i can beat the shit outta ya.” 

tokage let out a low growl. 

y/n smirked, hand still around bakugou’s wrist. “i’d like to know if i can beat you, then, so you can tell me if i’m good or not.” 

ohgoshohgoshohgosh where was this coming from? 

bakugou squinted. he leaned in closer, like he didn’t hear them. “speak up.” 

y/n knew he heard them correctly, but he got awfully close. 

feeling a little sneaky themselves, y/n ghosted their fingers over his strong jaw, tilting his head closer so they could speak clearly into his ear. “let’s train together,” y/n said, staring tokage dead in the eyes. 

it was a stupid rivalry, really. they’d both been accepted through recommendations. they’d been friends all throughout middle school, and yet when y/n made it into 1A, tokage felt it a necessity to excel at everything and rub it in their face. no way was y/n letting them get away with this. 

“i want to see how strong i am.” y/n let their voice drop just a bit. “you’re strong, right?” 

“are you taunting me?” bakugou said, voice nearly a whisper. he still hadn’t moved from leaning down and hadn’t bothered to move y/n’s fingertips from his jaw. 

“absolutely not.” y/n sent a small grin in the direction of their rival. “let’s just see who can beat who. we’ve never been against one another like this.” 

tokage huffed, tugging bakugou back. his eyes were softened when they met y/n’s, and there was simmering, small grin on his face. 

tokage, however, looked less intrigued. “he’s not your boyfriend.” 

y/n shrugged, already backing away. they spread their arms in a mockery of surrender. “he’s not yours, either.” 

[hansensgirl]

here, kitty kitty.

summary | Your sugar daddy wants his wildest dreams to come to life. You, on the other hand, aren’t really into it.

warnings | Dubcon, dark themes, pet play, Dark!Sebastian Stan, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby relationship, degrading, praise, humiliation, spanking, overstimulation, use of a leash, spanking via a paddle, butt plugs, no this isn’t beastiality; pet play is a kink, she’s not a furry, public sex? (the reader takes her panties off in the car), tail plug, dildos, vibrators, kneeling, cat ears (headband), smut, rough sex, anal play, dacryphilia?, use of a vibrating butt plug, double vaginal, finger sucking, crawling, + more!! this is a dark fic!! if you aren’t comfortable with reading any of these things, then don’t read this fic!! i am not responsible for your media consumption. +18!!!

pairings | Dark!Sugar Daddy!Sebastian Stan x Shy!Reader.

authors note | this is a birthday drabble for the lovely @peachyteabuck. happy birthday bb! i hope your day is amazing, wonderful, special and full of love and happiness!! you’re such an amazing person and friend, and even though i don’t know much about you, i can tell you’re an even more amazing person in real life. happy birthday, ily! also, this is a dark!sebastian stan fic. i am not implying that sebastian would do this, it’s basically an au. it’s fiction, and fiction isn’t real! any hate comments will be deleted and you’ll be kindly blocked, even if you’re a mutual <3 also i am not trying to wipe the existence of alejandra, once again, it’s fiction! it ain’t real. gif credit to my special baby @mypoisonedvine !! ily!

Your dainty fingers flittered over price tags carelessly. Dollar signs filled your eyes, gleaming and glittering with awe and shock. You couldn’t believe yourself. Once upon a time you used to stare at clearance tags over and over, wondering how gravely it would affect your financial situation. Trips to the bank grew frequently and so did the pile of job applications on the wonky kitchen table you owned. You grimaced at the painful memory, there was no way you’d ever be able to go back to that living nightmare. You sighed as you couldn’t find anything you liked in the store. Associates decked down in all black stood in the back of the store, per your sugar daddy’s request. Sebastian Stan, one of the highest paid actors and a complete heartthrob. You remembered how you both had met, you were his waitress at some expensive French restaurant. You were getting an earful from one of his team members and he had swooped in and saved the day. Soon after that came lavish dates and gifts, and eventually the ultimate proposition that changed your life in the blink of an eye.

He made quick work of moving you out of your cardboard box of an apartment and into his regal condo that laid in the Upper Eastside of New York. Your wardrobe was wiped clean with name brands that made your heart flutter. Decadent jewelry was donned as he liked it -- simple, yet elegant. Pearls laid on your clavicle, not too tight yet not too loose. He dressed you himself that day, as he did everyday. He took care of you like a little pet, one that he was very proud of. He stood right behind you, eyes trailing up and down your body as he admired you. You felt shy under his stoic gaze, ducking your head down. “Babydoll, did you see anything you liked?” He asked, placed his hand on the small of your back. You hesitatingly relaxed into it, nervous yet comforted at the same time. He always kept you on your toes. One minute, his hands would be constantly roaming your body, and the next, they’d be gone.

He had done a marvellous job at keeping your relationship private. You knew how paparazzi would camp outside his many residentials, vying for a simple snap of the actor. But he was smart, always one step ahead. “No, Daddy…” You trailed off, your voice no more than a quiet whisper. You were always shy towards him, especially in public. Quite frankly, you were intimidated. And he loved that about you. You always worried that the other workers in the store would judge you, envy you, sneer at you, or even take pictures of you and him. They were paid hush money, a crisp Benjamin would be slipped into their hands discreetly and sometimes along with a ticket to his latest movie or an autograph. An Italian suit framed his body perfectly, slicked back hair and a strong jawline that made your mouth water. It was grey, almost like the muted tones his eyes held in the midst of cerulean. “Poor baby, you want Daddy to choose something for you?” He asked, the name making you whimper.

You nodded timidly, the heat of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks as shame crawled up your body. His large hand came up and rubbed your bottom lip gently, loving the way it had a slight pout to it. “Go to the dressing room, baby.” He decreed, making you nod and walk over to the room that was closed off with velvet curtains. As soon as he heard your footsteps recede farther, his voice boomed around the store. He had heard the workers talking about you, saying degrading things that would undoubtedly make you cry. He was protective, and he wasn’t going to let some measly, ill-mannered people dishearten you. Maybe you did hear their words, that’s why you couldn’t find anything. “I swear to god, I’ll make sure none of you get a proper job for the rest of your lives! You’ll live in your families’ basements and you’ll neve be happy for the rest of your lives. I’ll ruin you all.” He yelled, revelling in the way they all had tears in their eyes. He dismissed them calling the owner to make sure they got fired.

Veins popped out and his face turned red as he desperately tried to calm down. He searched the store for something for his baby, but prevailed with nothing. He stormed to a mirror and smoothed his hair down, checking his suit for wrinkles and swallowed thickly. He walked through the velvet curtains and spotted you sitting on one of the leather ottomans, one leg bouncing with anxiety and your lip between your teeth. You were lost in the deep sea that was your thoughts, not even noticing that your sugar daddy came for you. Strong hands weighed down on your droopy shoulders, squeezing them slightly to disrupt your far too long thought train. “Did you hear anything, baby?” He asked, leaning closer to you. His warm breath fanned against the back of your neck, lips soft against your ear. You furrowed your brows and turned to look at him.

Worry, fury and dominance etched his features. “Hear what?” You asked, pure naivety lacing your tone. Worry morphed into relief, and his frown turned into a small smile. “Nothing, we’re gonna go now. This store is quite -- how must I put it? -- lackluster.” He smiled, ushering you to get up. You followed him like a little puppy, latching onto the bottom sleeve of his suit. The clicking of your heels on the floor were almost in rhythm with your breathing. Long strides managed to keep you up and deep breaths calmed your nerves. You knew anyone could be watching, phones out as they readied to expose you. You could never brace yourself from the sharp teeth of the internet, as they were always ready to tear you both apart. You ducked your head down and cowered behind him as he led you away from the preposterous mall.

He turned around and looked down at you, sternly telling you something. But you don’t pay attention. Instead you chose to ignore him and marvel at the small dog in a stroller. Sure, it was flamboyant in it’s own way, but how could anyone ignore the sight? The dog is a mix between a shih-tzu and something else that you couldn’t quite figure out. You watched as the stroller passed you and headed into the mall, getting lost somewhere in there. “...Are you even listening to me, kitten?” He asked dubiously, raising one of his eyebrows. “Hmm?” You hummed, turning to look at your Daddy. “Sorry, Daddy, there was just a cute dog in a stroller that I saw!” You exclaimed, pouting slightly out of habit. Sebastian took a deep breath before sighing heavily. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried his hardest to not lose his cool.

He had given you a set of rules when your relationship started. They toed at the line of strict and controlling, but after he explained every single kink and reward they were reasonable in your naive, doe-like eyes. You didn’t dare to question them or his authority, knowing that would only end with him engulfing in flames of rage and fury. He had a short temper, one that he had developed over time. Maybe it was the stress and the pressure of his privileged, well-earned life, but you’ll never know. Listening to him was one of those rules, high on the list that he always prioritized over most things. He loathed it when you didn’t listen to him. “I said, go sit and wait in the car. Oh, also, ditch the panties.” He snapped, making you whimper. In the two years of your relationship, you were never fond of his harsh tone. “Yes, Daddy.” You squeaked, walking away to the sleek Jaguar that was parked along with the other luxurious cars. You bit your tongue as you weaved your way through millions of dollars that were on wheels.

You carefully opened the passenger door and sat in the leather seat that had a pink, fluffy blanket covering it. You closed the door and set your small, round, pink Chanel handbag under your seat. Hesitatingly, you reached up your dress and your fingers blindly found your panties. You hooked your thumbs around the lace fabric that was a bit too expensive for your taste. You lifted your lower body up and slowly pulled the fabric down, falling into a jumble at your feet. You struggled to untangle them from your heels, before finally triumphing with a small grunt. You shoved the panties into your purse and bit your lip. Embarrassment gnawed at you as you saw people walking by. But they couldn’t see you at all. The darkly tinted glass was like flimsy armour for you in your eyes. Nobody saw through them, but it still made you feel like you were being watched. Leisurely, you began to get lost in that deep sea of thoughts again.

What would he do?  Was he going to take you to another mall? You picked at the ends of your Kate Spade dress. It was fancy, dainty, something a princess would wear once and throw away. It made you look classy and tasteful. Underneath it, though, was a different story. Numerous hickeys, bruises and bite marks littered your skin. The marks made you feel small, submissive and owned. Possessed like a play thing, like his pet. Sebastian loved to see you all marked up, it was like you were his work of art and he was the artist. You shyly spread your legs and felt a sweat beginning to form on your back. Your palms began to sweat too, out of pure nervousness of course. You gripped the seats and sighed, before wiping your hands on the blanket. You looked up and saw Sebastian walking out with two bags in his hands. He clutched the silky handles of the bags and walked in long, harsh strides. A small scowl was on his face, seemingly displeased with the day so far.

He weaved his way through the cars as did you. He harshly opened the door for the driver’s seat as if it wouldn’t cost a fortune to repair. He sat down and sighed, shoving the Tiffany & Co. bag in the backseat. You pouted, feeling the anger radiating off of him like heat. The other bag remained in his hands, but you couldn’t recognize the store name. “Daddy got you a few gifts, okay kitten?” He handed the bag over to you as he spoke. You nodded but didn’t dare to open the bag as he hadn’t given you permission. “Thank you, Daddy!” You giggled, your voice holding innocence He smirked at you and crept his hand up your thigh, slowly but surely. Ring-donned knuckles grazed against your wet folds, bumping up against your swollen, sensitive clit. You let out a whimper at the feeling and slick drooled out of you from his touch.

“Daddy…” You whined, looking down at your lap. “Yeah baby?” He asked, playing dumb to the fact that he was toying with your sensitive pussy. You bit your tongue before you could beg and plead for more. You knew he didn’t like it when you were greedy for more. He pulled his hand away from your pussy and you both admired the way his fingers glistened with your arousal. He shoved the same fingers into your mouth, making you gag and drool. You sucked on them as if you were starved, the sweet yet slightly bitter taste of your slick filling your mouth. He pulled his fingers out with a sounding ‘pop’ that made you giggle. “Good kitten, guess you’re not so dumb after all.” He husked, the mix of praise and degradation making you wetter. He revved the engine of his car and began to pull out of the parking lot, driving ensuite to his Upper Eastside home.

The rumble and vibrations of his car went straight to your pussy, reminding you of the time where he sat you stark-naked on the hood of his car and revved the engine just to tease you. Later that night, he chided and punished you for being a messy little kitten. The vivid, lewd memory made you clench your thighs as you were desperate for some sort of friction. Sebastain’s right hand danced all over your body as his left hand gripped the steering wheel tightly. You both got lucky that afternoon, as rush hour traffic had yet to start. Smoothly, he parked in the private garage that housed some of his other cars. They were all worth more than anything, probably hundreds of thousands of dollars. He led you out of the garage and into the elevator, a sweet jazz tune playing at a low hum that was almost missable. You still held onto the bag that he gifted you and you even dared to try and take a peek inside.

The sparkly tissue hid the gift well from your intrusive, detective eyes. You bounced on your feet as you wondered what it could possibly be. It was slightly heavy, but you partially blamed your weak muscles for that. Sebastian never let you lift a finger when it came to hard work. You barely paid attention to the ding of the elevator as you had reached the floor of his penthouse. Sebastian gently dragged you out, your short steps barely keeping up with his long strides. The click of your heels no longer made a sound as the carpet of the hallways muted them gently. “Now when we get inside, I want you to strip everything and kneel on the floor.” He ordered, voice at a low baritone that made you even wetter. Your noticed that your inner thighs were slightly damp with arousal, your pussy leaking with want.

 “Yes, Daddy.” You smiled, easily obeying him. You could already feel the ache in your knees that would come with kneeling on the floor. He opened the door and you swiftly  made your way to the bedroom. You swung the door open and was met with the room that you spent most of your time in. Grey hues illuminated under the brightness of the chandelier. You gently kicked your shoes into a corner and quickly shed all your clothes off, gently laying them onto the white divan that was at the feet of your bed. You bit your lip as you wondered whether or not you should take a peak in the bag. But you reminded yourself of the consequences your curiosity always brought you. He knew, he always knew when you let your hands and eyes wandered like tourists in Venice. You hesitatingly set the bag onto the dresser, before clumsily unclasping your pearl necklace. You were out of breath at that point, chest heaving like you had just ran a marathon. You hugged your naked body as you moved back to the divan, kneeling in front of it. On the floor, the fluffy carpet dug into your knees slightly, making you wince.

You looked down at the ground and clasped your hands behind your back. The cool air made goosebumps rise like the dead rising from their graves. Your cunt throbbed with anticipation and neediness, you just couldn’t wait for him. Your heart clamoured wildly as you heard him walk closer to the bedroom, opening the door to be pleased by the sight of you on your knees. “Such a good little kitten.” He praised, loosening the expensive tie around his neck.  The blazer of the Armani suit was strewn somewhere in the kitchen and all Sebastian was left with was his dress pants and dress shirt. He rolled his sleeves up as he walked around you, making the hairs on the back of your neck raise. You were undoubtedly nervous for what was about to come. You heard the rustling of the bag from the dresser, the sound reverberating throughout the room. “You’d let Daddy do anything to you, right?” He asked, pulling out the bottle of lube from the bag.

“Of course, Daddy!” You exclaimed, knowing it was another one of his rules. Let daddy do whatever he wants to you. He smirked as he pulled the glittery box out of the bag, carefully setting it down next to the bottle of lube. He grabbed everything else from the bag, leaving only the tissue paper. “Close your eyes, kitten.” He demanded, and you listened easily. You slowled your erratic breaths down and furrowed your eyebrows at a foreign feeling. A headband laid on your head and was tucked behind your ears. Then you felt his hands ghosting around your neck, followed by the feeling of cool leather. Sebastian fastened the collar together and tightened it just enough to have you slightly gasping for air. His hands left your neck and his fingers played with the little bell on the front of the collar.

The sound made you even more confused and lost. But you didn’t dare to open your mouth. “Such a cute little kitten.” He cooed, walking back to the dresser. He hastily opened the box with a loud rip and marvelled at its contents. Headbands, tails, buttplugs, paddles, handcuffs, ball gags, dildo gags, dildos, vibrators, leashes, and nipple clamps of all kinds were at his disposal, all for his little kitten - you. He grabbed the pink leash and unwrapped, it carefully, opening its clasp to attach to your collar. “Now open your eyes, kitten.” He instructed, gripping the leash tightly. You opened your eyes and gasped, panic taking over your body. “Sebastian, what’s this?” You nervously questioned, your bottom lip quivering. The smile on his lips quickly turned into a scowl, as you had broken a rule. Never, ever call him Sebastian. He tugged on the leash harshly, pulling you up. “What the fuck did you just call me?” He growled, clearly in no mood for you to act out.

“S- Sorry, Daddy.” You quickly apologized, terrified of his hell-sent wrath. You hesitatingly reached up to touch the headband. Your eyes went wide as you felt ears that would resemble cat ears. Cat ears, the leash and the collar… You added it all up and gasped as it dawned on you, he was into pet play. “Now listen, kitten. You gotta listen to the rules, and if you don’t listen then I could punish you by ending this little relationship, okay? I know you can’t survive without me, and you should remember that.” He spat, making your throat tighten up with an impending sob. You swallowed it down and nodded, deciding to listen to him. “Good kitten.” He praised, smiling once again. He pushed you down and pulled your ass up into the air, and you let him manhandle you. Your dripping pussy was exposed to him and shame bit you like a snake.

He let go of the leash and walked to the dresser, and for a split second you thought you could have ran away. But as soon as he turned back around, those thoughts went away. The coolness of the lub made you flinch as he poured some onto your ass hole. He carefully spread it around but didn’t bother to warm you up. You shouted when you felt the tip of the tail plug push into your puckered hole. It stretched your ass out painfully and you couldn’t bear the pain. It shot up your spine and made you feel dizzy. You thought you were going to pass out as the large part of the plug forced its way into you. Finally, the excruciating pain stopped increasing. Into died down to a low thrumming and throbbing and soon dwindled into an aching pleasure. You felt full yet empty, which only made you whine pathetically.

“Poor kitten, so desperate for your Daddy, hm?” He snickered, making you shy away from him. Your wetness coated your inner thighs and began to drip from your cunt, the sweet scent of it making him moan. “Before I fuck that tight little pussy of yours, I believe I have to punish you.” He spoke, shrugging his shirt off. You watched from the corner of your eyes as he stripped down to his birthday suit that was always a delectable sight for your eyes only. Your mouth salivated as you saw his large, hard cock in his boxers. You couldn't fight the urge to rub your thighs together at all. The slight friction was euphoric, but it just wasn’t enough. Sebastian picked up the paddle that had the word ‘mine’ engraved on it. He walked back to your bent over form and soothingly rubbed your ass before speaking.

“Count them, and don’t forget to thank me.” He implored, smacking the paddle harshly on your right ass cheek. “One, thank you Daddy.” You squeaked out. He took turns on each cheek, hitting you with the same amount of agonizing strength. Tears streamed down your face as you sobbed after each spank. Your ass was bruised, the word ‘mine’ indented all over it. “Twenty, thank you Daddy!” You whimpered. “You like this, don’t you? Such a good little kitten, all slutty and dripping for your Daddy.” He gently barked, making you nod. His words only added gasoline to the fire that was your shame and arousal. You felt a harsh tug from the leash and suddenly you were on your hands and knees, just like a kitten. Your mascara was leaking, smeared on your face like in those angsty-heartbreak movies.

Sebastian wiped the tears and ruined mascara away, but he only made you l;ook more pathetic than before. He’d love to fuck your beautiful face until you passed out, or to slap your little cheeks until you begged for more. He wanted to break you, to turn you into his little kitten. You gulped down your fear as you waited for what he’d gladly give you next. Your eyes fell to his hard cock, still stuck in its confinement that was his Hugo Boss boxers. They hung right where his intriguing v-line was, the same path that would lead you to your treasure -- his cock. You looked up at him, watching as he sucked his bottom lip between his pearly whites. “Beg for it.” He growled. You knew how much he loved to hear you beg. It made him feel superior, it fed his ego but it made you feel submissive and desperate. But oh, the rewarding praise it would come with was so addictive, like ecstasy.

“Please daddy? I’ll be a good little kitten! I need your big cock daddy, please?” You begged, your voice slightly strained from the screaming and yelling. You looked up at him and unintentionally gave him those puppy eyes that always made him weak in the knees. Glazed over orbs that were slightly sad, begging in their own language that was silence. Sebastian let go of the leash and stalked away from you, keeping his predatory eyes trained on you. You admired the scratches that were stained on his back that your well manicured nails left behind. Just like a kitten. He sits on the bed and crosses his arms, large muscles bulging and the sight makes you whimper -- loudly. You loved the way your small hands would struggle to grip his large biceps as you’d scramble for purchase whilst he’d rail into you.

The phantom feeling of his cock driving in and out of you sparks something inside of you, pushing you into a light, floaty headspace. The loud snap of his fingers made you jump with fear. He pointed at the floor next to him and you furrowed your eyebrows with mystification. You knew he wasn’t going to help you out then, no. You were all on your own. Sebastian raised his eyebrow as he waited for you to crawl towards him, just like how a kitten should. He wasn’t going to help you out, you needed to learn on your own. He longed for you to fully fall into the headspace that would make you all dumb and stupid. He loved to break you, to see you depend on him for everything. “D- Daddy?” You called out, waiting for him to tell you to do something. But he remained as silent as a stone. “Here, kitty, kitty...” The snapping, the pointing, and the waiting… He wanted you to crawl, didn’t he?

You gulped and winced as you put one knee before the other, one hand before the other. You soon met Sebastian's bouncing feet, before looking up at him. All your arousal leaked all over you, and as much as you hated to admit it, the whole thing turned you on even more. The dominance, the degrading, the feeling of needing him, it all made the passionate fire in your abdomen continue to burn. Sebastian turned to face you and ran his thumb across your lips, smearing your saliva around. He pushed his thumb in your mouth and you eagerly sucked on it as if it were his cock. He abruptly pulled it out, making you put. “Nuh uh, none of that.” He chided, feeling his cock stirring in his pants. “Such a good, dumb little kitten. Take daddy’s cock out.” He jeered, and you nearly sobbed. Finally, finally. You swiftly pulled his boxers down, watching as his large cock bounced up and hit his lower abdomen. Thick ropes of pre-cum leaked down the shaft of his cock and you never wanted to suck him off more in your life.

You involuntarily darted your tongue out to lap up all the pre-cum, but a harsh tug on the pink leather leash halted you. “As much as I’d love to stuff your cute, slutty little mouth with my cock, I’m in the mood to fuck you until you’re just a braindead kitten.” He belted, leaving no room for argument or begging. He leans down and captures your lips in a heated, rough kiss. You can barely keep up with the Greek God-esque man. The kiss is dominating; arduous and vehement. His teeth nipped at your wet lips and you whimper into the kiss, only adding gasoline to the fire. He forcefully pushed his tongue into your mouth and you let it explore everywhere. You sucked out it softly, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate the burning ache that just seems to only intensify. He pulled away from you all at once and you felt dizzy. Your lips were throbbing and suddenly you’re thrown onto the bed.

You felt the plug push farther into you -- further shocking you as it already was so deep. It grazed against each and every one of your sensitive spots, making you cry out. It was the kind of pleasure that was also painful, but the kind of pain that made you want to be hurt more and more. You wondered if you were a masochist, if Sebastian had turned you into a masochist. But at that time, that was the least of your worries. From the corner of your eyes, you saw the glint from the glittery box that Sebastian had purchased. He flipped you onto your stomach and slowly pulled the tail out, stroking it every now and then. “Ngh.” You moaned out it was pulled out all the way. Sebastian stared at your gaping hole, wishing he could just stick his cock in you and fuck you into oblivion. He could, but he shouldn’t; not yet at least.

You gripped the sheets tightly, silk slightly slipping from your sweaty hands. A gasp flew past your lips as Sebastian puckered his lips and spat on your puckered hole, before rubbing it in. You fought the need to push your hips back against his thumb, slowly pushing into you. The stretch was just as painful as the plug, your poor ass burning. He pulled his thumb back out before grabbing another plug, one that had a pink tail. He swiftly pushed it in and your eyes rolled back into your skull at the feeling. It wasn’t as painful as before, it was actually pleasurable. You swore you lost your vision for a brief second, and even your breath as well as your morals. Well, you lost your morals a long time ago, to be frank.

You felt him stroke the fluffy part of the tail again, almost trying to soothe you. He fiddled with the base of the plug, trying to find the little nub that was supposed to be there. His fingers flipped it and suddenly the plug began to vibrate. Muted, strong vibrations radiated throughout your ass and up your spine, even reaching to your poor little pussy. You moaned pornographically, bucking your hip involuntarily, humping the air. “Aw, poor little kitten is so needy.” He taunted, even though it was the same case for him. He was harder than anything and it was almost painful. Pre-cum leaked from his aching, silky and dripped down to his swollen balls.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled your hips back towards his and grinded his cock against your dripping pussy. You were so wet that you could smell the slightly bitter scent of your arousal in the air. It was muted, faint, but anybody would have noticed. Sebastian grabbed the base of his cock and bumped the silky, bulbous head of his cock against your clit. You cried out, “Please daddy!” But he only turned up the vibrations and continued to rub the tip against your pearl of nerves. His cock teased your drooling hole, and you just couldn’t take it anymore. “Please fuck me, daddy!” You pleaded. Sebastian sheathed his cock into your wet pussy, impaling you. You wheezed as he slowly bottomed out, his cock slightly grazing your cervix.

You didn’t mind it, though. He stayed still, his cock throbbing inside your core. He reached for the pink hitachi wand and turned it on, pressing it onto your poor little clit. You shrieked at the abrupt amount of pleasure, your hand darting down to where the wand was. You held it in place even though your hands were shaking. Your body held a slight tremor and Sebastian began to pound into your pussy. The sound of skin slapping, both of your moans and the obscene squelching from your pussy filled the room. “Oh fuck!” You yelled, feeling your orgasm building up already. “Fuck, so tight.” Sebastian groaned, thrusting into you even harder. His cock kept nudging against your g-spot, each time making you dizzier.

“D- Daddy… Can I cum? Please?!” You squealed, your voice louder than the banging that came from the bed headboard against the wall. “Fuck- No, hold it.” He growled, before moaning loudly, You clenched around his cock, the pleasure pushing you closer and closer to your release. Sebastian watched as your juices coated his cock, glistening with your arousal. “Please daddy?” You begged, knowing all too well that you might pass out if you don’t cum — at least that’s what it felt like. Your pussy squeezed him with all it’s mine, wetness dripping all over the sheets and you struggled to stop screaming. “Oh!” You gasp as he pushed the plug into you deeper. “Yeah, take in deep in your slutty, tight little pussy. You gonna cum, kitten? Such a good little pet!” He shouted, and you wailed. “Cum, cum all over my cock.” He commanded. The dam inside you broke as you came all over his cock, milking him. “Thank you, Daddy!” You mewled, bucking against his cock.

You babbled dumbly as you soon became overstimulated. Sebastian tugged on your leash and the bell on it rang non-stop. You tried to run away from him, the pleasure becoming too much. But you soon found yourself moving back against his cock, fucking yourself. “Poor kitten, can’t take my cock now even though you fuckin’ begged for it.” He spat, his thrusts growing sloppy. Your pussy spasmed as you came for the second time, your vision becoming darker than usual. You fell against the bed but you didn’t relent your grip on the wand. Your body was on fire, heart clamouring at such a rate that you couldn’t calm it down. “Oh fuck…” He groaned, pulling out of your pussy to stave off his orgasm. Your cum dripped from his cock as he flipped you onto your back and spread your legs wide.

Sebastian plummeted his cock back into your pussy and grabbed the sparkly dildo in the box. Before you could ask him what he was about to do, he slowly pushed the dildo alongside his cock. It wasn’t as big as his cock, no, but it was enough to have you screaming at him to stop. You pushed at his hard chest but he didn’t budge. Instead, he growled at you to stop. “...If you don’t listen then I could punish you by ending this little relationship, okay? I know you can’t survive without me, and you should remember that.” His words echoed in your mind like a memory that you wanted to forget but you were always reminded of it. You both moaned once he stopped pushing the dildo into your stretched out pussy. You were sure that he ruined you for anyone else.

He slowly began to thrust both his cock and the dildo in and out of you. His thrusts were slow but sharp and hard, even though they were slightly sloppy. You came for a third time, your mouth falling open as you let out a silent scream. Tears streamed down your cheeks again and you couldn’t take it anymore. “One more, kitten.” He bargained even though you knew you couldn’t object. His cock and the dildo hitting your g-spot over and over, the butt plug, and the hitachi wand were all too much for you. But they all ruined you over and over, and they all made you cum over and over. “Oh- Oh my god! ‘M gonna cum so fucking hard!” You preened, arching your back off the bed. You unintentionally pressed the hitachi wand harder against your clit, only intensifying your orgasm.

You gushed around Sebastian’s cock as thick, white, hot ropes of cum painted your walls. His cock pulsed in your pussy as he continued to fill you up. Shockwaves were sent throughout your body and you left the conscious world for a few seconds — making a quick trip to heaven. Or hell. Sebastian pulled out and watched as his cum followed both his cock and the dildo. Your sore hole gaped slightly, all fucked out and ruined. He turned the vibrators off and you curled up into a ball. You slowly descended from your powerful high, sighing heavily. You shut your eyes as you ushered Sebastian to cuddle you. But he just chuckled like a sadist. “Oh no kitten, did you think we were done?”

[13uswntimagines]

If That Isn’t Love (Christen Press x Reader)

Request: Reader and Christen are dating- the team finds out when they go to a game and there’s a fight with the rival team.

You glared at the opposing team, your fists clenching and unclenching in unbridled anger. Soccer was a contact sport and that was fine, as was the intense rivalry between your school and North Carolina, but they were taking things way too far. 

So far the first half of the college cup final had been plagued with fouls and no calls from the refs and it was starting to get under your skin (it didn’t help that your girlfriend and your teammates were in the stands watching). 

“Better keep your eyes on the ball and not on the stands captain,” North Carolina’s captain spat in your direction. You rolled your eyes at the senior defender. The two of you had been locked in a battle for the past 4 years, a battle that went far beyond forward versus defender or Stanford versus North Carolina. 

“Worry about your goal cause worrying about me isn’t really workin out for ya,” You rolled your eyes, gesturing towards the goal that you had found twice already. There was a reason you had been called up to the national team when you were 16 and had a full ride to play. 

The defender growled, taking a dangerous step in your direction.“You're just upset because you’re being outclassed. At least I didn’t fuck my way to the top,” 

Your eyes tightened dangerously. One of the reasons you and Christen hadn’t told the team about your relationship yet was because neither of you wanted anyone to assume you got where you were for anything other than your playing skill. 

You growled, stepping up to the woman so your noses were almost touching. “Don’t talk about things you don’t know about,” 

The defender smirked at you, cocking her head to the side“What I know is that your little girlfriend isn’t going to want you when you lose,” 

You grit your teeth. “In your dreams,”

 Her lips twitched, and you resisted the urge to smack the smirk off her face. You had no doubt you could kick her ass, but starting a riot during your final college game wasn’t really something you were interested in. 

The defender opened her mouth to respond, only to be interrupted but the ref’s whistle. “Let’s break it up ladies,”

“Watch your back,” She huffed, shoulder checking you as she made her way back to her position. 70 minutes to go and the brutality was just getting started. 

*****

Christen was on the edge of her seat, her fingers clenching painfully around Tobins hand. Her grip got progressively tighter every time you hit the turf. With every tackle, you were slower and slower to get up. Your flush was also getting progressively deeper (a telltale sign that you were nearing the end of your patience). 

“Chris if you squeeze any tighter you're going to break my fingers. Baby Bear is going to be fine,” Tobin mumbled very close to the forwards ear, using the hand not currently being crushed to adjust Christen’s grip. 

“You need your feet, not your hands,” The green eye woman growled back, her breath catching when the same defender took you off your feet yet again. 

“Yeah cause the Rɘ- imagineers will totally understand that the next capsule is delayed because you broke my hand watching your secret girlfriend play soccer,” Tobin grumbled, biting her lip at the look on your face. A very dangerous look. 

You were not known for being the most patient person on the women’s national team, hell most of the vets would venture to say that you had one of the most explosive tempers in the team. It took a lot to push you to that point, an insane amount of prodding, but once the explosion started, you were like a volcano, destroying everything on your path. 

“She’s gonna explode if the ref doesn’t start carding that defender,” Kelley mumbled, shaking her head. 

Alex scoffed at the notion. If you blew up, it wasn’t anyone’s fault but the stupid defender.“She’s been on her ass all night,” 

The teams eyebrows furrowed as you went toe to toe with the defender yet again, spit flying in all directions as you yelled at each other. “Wonder what they’re saying,” Becky said, eyebrows furrowing as you took another step towards the defender. Sure you had a temper, but you usually avoided committing red-card offenses on the field. 

“Whatever it is, North Carolina better stop because y/n looks like she’s going to beat her ass,” Emily snorted, throwing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. This show was just starting to get good (not that the onesided beat down of North Carolina wasn’t fun to watch…). 

*****

Everything moved in slow motion. You saw the ball leave your cleats. You saw the defender come in, studs up, after the ball was zooming towards the net. You watched the world fall as you tumbled on the grass, popping up the second your back touched the ground. 

Your fists clenched and your face turned red as you once again went toe to toe with the defender. 

“What the fuck is your problem. You could have fucking ended my career,” 

“Thought you’d be used to being under someone better than you,” She shrugged, stepping up so your noses were almost touching, an annoying smirk playing across her features. 

“I thought I told you to leave her out of this,” You growled, clenching your fist. 

“Can’t take the heat Bitch?” The defender chuckled, sending a wink to where the team was sitting in the stands and pushing her finger into your chest. 

“You will remove your hand before I remove it for you,” You snarled. The defender laughed again before shoving you hard. “What are you gonna do about it pipsqueak?”

And like that, your patience had run out. You launched yourself at the woman, spit flying, fists swinging. You were going to end this woman. 

****

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” Christen’s arms were around you the second she was in the trainer's room. You melted into her, wincing slightly with the pressure her hug put on your bruised ribs (likely from the defender’s knee when you tackled her). 

“Sorry darling,” you mumbled, pressing your face into her shoulder, and breathing in her scent. It always had a calming effect. you groaned when her hand brushed over a particularly nasty bruise on the side of your face. 

She sighed, pulling back and carefully using her fingers to pry you from your hiding spot in her neck. She held your face between her hands and examined the damage. Her eyes scrunched as she took in your broken nose, black eye and split lip. 

Her thumb brushed lightly over the cut just above your eyebrow.“She got you good,” she mumbled. 

You smirked, ignoring the pain it put on your split lip and winked at your girl “Hmm, you should see the other guy,”. 

It was the truth. Sure you were a little banged up, but the defender had definitely gotten the worse end of the stick. While you had walked off the field by your own power, the defender had been carried off on a stretcher. 

Her giggle made any discomfort you felt from your facial expressions entirely worth it. “Always the charmer,” she hummed, leaning in and placing a very light kiss on your lips, mindful of the now open cut.  You smiled dopily at her. 

“but no more getting involved in riots alright?” 

You nodded solemnly at her. The pitch had turned into a mess, with your team coming to your aid after the defender punched you in the face, and the other team doing the same. “Promise” You mumbled, looking her in the eyes to show her your sincerity, and before kissing her again. She didn’t need to know that it was comments about her that had caused the fight (you would defend her willingly any day). 

A hushed whisper broke you and Christen out of your moment “Did Christen just kiss baby bear?”, followed by what sounded like a slap on the back of a head. 

You pulled away from your girlfriend, pouting when your team mom stepped between the two of you. “Well, we hate to break this sweet reunion up, but what the fuck is going on?” Alex asked sternly, and for the first time, you were glad your bruised cheeks hid your blush, still your brought your hands up to hide your face. 

“We’re dating,” You grumbled, smiling when Christen intertwined your fingers with hers and pulled them from your face. She winked at you, god she thought you were adorable. 

The team awed at the action. Well half the team did, Emily still stared at you with wide eyes. “What?” 

“Seriously you guys are blind, they were obvious as fuck,” Tobin snorted, shaking out her aching hand. You and Chris weren’t subtle at all, and you had just started a riot on her behalf. If that wasn’t love, she didn’t know what was. 

[bokettochild]

Hey Ketto, I'm not sure if you are taking any requests rn, but I've had a rough time of it recently and if it's no bother or hassle, could I request a fic where Time gets comforted by Warriors? Something with cuddles and hair petting, and Time getting to be held. Only if it's no bother. - Nick @thesacredtwink

Of course, Nick!

Sorry I didn't see this until just recently, but I whipped up something for you as soon as I could. I hope it helps, luv, and if you want more please do not hesitate to ask!

Time has been acting strange since the last switch.

At first, none of them questioned it, after all, leaving the ranch made them all a bit down, Time especially however, their leader usually sprung back to himself within a few days of travel time, going back to making jokes that made the others groan and offering advice and aid to their younger heroes. This time however, Time had only gotten worse, the shadows under his eyes growing nightly, the older hero falling silent and stern and very nearly snappish with the others. Only this evening, Warriors had seen Time lose his temper with Wind when the kid had been bubbling around him all day, and while the sailor took the scolding and tired ‘you’re just too much, Wind’ like a soldier, Wars had seen how the kid had retreated to Twilight and Legend during dinner, clinging to the both of them with misty eyes and keeping himself strangely silent while Time brooded on the other side of the fire.

The captain sighed to himself. If his boys were having trouble getting along, not just adjusting to being on the road again, then it was his place as a father (brother?) to step up and see what the problem was. After all, Time would tear himself up about this later, so he needed to nip it in the bud now before the man did something that would make the following guilt later even worse.

Time was seated on the far edge of camp that evening, and unlike most nights on the road, the man had left his sword in its sheath, himself still clad in his armor as the others shed their excess layers, and a blue ocarina was cradled in his hands, eyes distant and brows pulled low as he stared off into the forest. Not brooding then, sulking, and he wasn’t quite sure if that was better or worse in the moment.

“Room for one more?”

Time’s blue eye flickered to him for a moment with a dark scowl, the man shaking his head tiredly and pulling himself up.

Oh shoot, a royal sulk! Time was usually fine to let someone sit next to him, even when he was brooding, but if it was so bad that he didn’t even want anyone nearby? Oh goddesses, Warriors had his work cut out for him.

Dinner that night was a cold affair, the younger ones trying to prompt Wind into anything resembling conversation as Legend poked the sailor’s side, and the older ones exchanging worried glances as they looked from their sulking leader to each other. Usually, someone would break the stillness with a joke or a tease, but Legend’s snark only made things worse when Time shot the vet a look after he had made a jab at Warriors, and while the captain appreciated the defense of his honor, it was reminding him much too much of the war when Time had been a gremlin ready to wreak havoc on anyone at the nearest hint of insult to his father-figure. And while he rather doubted that Time could pants Legend (no pants, and their leader hopefully knew better now that he was older) it was an uncomfortable reminder of the kid’s worse days when nothing could get through to him and Warriors had to be very careful to hide his flask where the kid wouldn’t find it.

When arranging watches, Time had just grunted and moved to the edges of camp and Warriors found himself wincing.

“I’ll take second watch.” He told the others. “Time’s claimed first- don't ask, that’s what that huff usually means. Wind, you’re on Twilight duty, make sure the rancher doesn’t wander off again this evening, alright?” That earned a smile from the kid however hesitant, and while Twilight looked mildly offended, Warriors mentally blessed the rancher for not protesting the comment.

“Yessir, Cap’n.” Wind offered a sharp little salute, and he couldn’t help but reach over and ruffle the kid’s hair as his chest had swelled with pride. They’d worked on that salute a thousand times and now it was as clipped and smooth as any officer’s, even better than many of his men. Maybe he should have the sailor give his soldiers a few tips he chuckled to himself as the others sorted out watches; Legend taking the one directly after his and Hyrule the one after. Wild was on morning cooking duty, so the kid was ordered to rest for the night to avoid any sort of unfortunate mishaps. Usually, it wasn’t a problem to let the wild Champion take final watch, but if his plans (of course he had plans, did you doubt him?) were going to work out, the kid would need to be well rested to prepare the breakfast he’d asked for in the morning.

Knowing glances were shot his way by the others, Sky and Twilight both clapping his back and Legend tugging his scarf with an impish smirk as the others headed to bed, silent wishes of good luck ringing clear across the camp as he was left alone with their leader while the others settled in for bed.

He waited until the sun had set properly and the snoring of the others had begun rumbling around the camp, Twilight’s throaty snorts and Wind’s rumbling ones mixing with Four and Legend’s more soft snuffling ones. Hyrule and Wild lay silent and curled up, each snuggled into one side of the cuddle pile that had formed with Wind in the center, the sailor clinging to Twilight and Legend both in his sleep and dooming them to be smushed in by the other heroes. Sky, at the head of the pile, drooled slightly in his sleep, apparently uncaring that the others were using him as a pillow, and with one hand lost in Twilight’s dark hair. It made him smile as he took them in, pulling himself up to go and ensure they were all tucked in warmly before he turned his attention to the brooding warrior on the edge of their camp.

Time was still fiddling with his ocarina, eyes downcast and almost misty as the older man sat on the edge of camp, and he had to stop for a moment to collect himself before confronting him; Time looked miserable.

“Guilt hitting you yet for yelling at Wind?” He drawled, coming to sit next to the other and carefully arranging his scarf where time could grab it if needed. The man was no longer a child, but even so the blue fabric was a comfort to most of their odd little family, and scoldings or long talks were always made easier when it was available to hide under.

“A bit.”

“If it helps, he knows you didn’t mean it.”

Time slumped in place. “I still said it. Wind looks up to me now, I-” The other cut off with a sigh, tired eyes and weary heart both dimming as he watched.

“Right then, what’s eating you?” At Time’s startled expression he offered a knowing frown. “I helped raise you, Sap, I know when you’re taring yourself up over something and I’d half to be as blind as you to not tell when somethings hurting you. So, what is it?”

Royal blue blinked slowly, a match for his own and so terribly distant as Time turned back to the forest, thumbs trailing over the smooth porcelain of the ocarina. “I’m worried.”

“For?”

“For Malon.” Oh shit. “She wasn’t feeling too good when we left and-” Time’s face twisted up, eye glimmering as the man stared up at the stars, pain twisting his expression and straining his voice as one hand had wound into the prepared scarf. “I’m not there. Talon’s getting on in years and if something happens when we’re gone-” Time’s voice hitched, not quite a sob but broken all the same, and like a trigger was hit Warriors was already pulling the other man into his arms, holding tight as Time’s shoulders shuddered under his grasp. “I’m worried, Pops.” Came the broken whisper. “What if-”

“Shhhh.” Like a million times before his hands were running through short blonde hair. It had been ages since he’d trimmed either of his boys and Time was getting shaggy again, something he was grateful for. Running his hands through the kid’s hair had always helped him calm, and it seemed to still be effective even ow, Time melting further into his embrace as he hummed softly, rocking ever so slightly in place. “Malon’s a strong woman, she’ll be fine. People get sick all the time, Sapling, this isn’t anything to fuss over.”

“She couldn’t get out of bed the other morning.” Time breathed against his chest, the ocarina falling to the ground as both of the man’s hands had wound into the blue scarf instead.

Warriors tried to steady the stutter of his heart as he clutched the other a but tighter. “Is that so?”

“She’s been awful nauseas too.” Time choked out. “Wars, I-”

“Has she had random dizzy spells and weird cravings? Maybe gets sickened at the mere idea of certain foods but also likes eating things that even a pig would turn away from?” Oh, goddesses let this be right.

Time’s blue eye stared up at him curiously. “Y-yeah, how’d-”

The captain choked back a snort. “She’ll be fine, Time. Ladies get that way sometimes. My own beloved was that way for a while too, it passes in time, and there's few ill effects.”

“What ill effects?” Time shifted uneasily, pulling away to stare at him better.

“Exhaustion mostly, some pain, and loss of sleep, but,” He tilted his head with a knowing grin. “It’s well worth it in the end when she’s okay again. You’ll want to talk to her about it next time we get there,” if the bulge of Malon’s stomach didn’t give her away first. “But she’ll be alright.” Time stared at him in disbelief, brows pulling together in a doubtful frown that had him huffing in mock offence. “Wat, you don’t believe me?”

“Battlefield experience as a medic-”

Wars cut Time off with a snort. “Battlefield nothing! I was fighting my loves illness before the war even started. It’s not something that catches, I’ll have you know, and as long as she takes it easy, something I trust Malon knows as well as the next woman, she’ll be fine.” He reached over to tig Time’s ears making the other shy away with a strained laugh, only earning a hair ruffle “Stop fussing, Sapling, your lady love will live just fine.”

Time actually outed at him for a moment, something which quite frankly looked ridiculous on the man’s face and made him bust up laughing as the other flopped against him. Absently, his hands drifted back into Time’s shaggy hair, humming softly as Time continued to lay in silence, eyes staring up at the stars and ears twitching slowly.

“Tomorrow,” He tugged one flickering ear pointedly. “You need to apologize to Wind.”

“Trust me, I intend to.”

“Good.” He grinned, flopping his scarf across the other’s face. “But for now, rest, kiddo, you’re a right grouch when you're tired and I don’t mind pulling double shift for a night.”

“I’m-”

“Not fine, and not staying up. Past your bed-time squirt.” He tugged the ear again, earning a soft growl from his adult kid as Time shifted.

“I’m still in my armor.”

“Then change.”

Time pulled himself up with a huff, shucking his armor and letting Wars help him with the buckles and belts before the both of them settled down again. Tomorrow night, the leader’s metal shell would need cleaning, but for now, he’d let himself out to be seen and held, head nestled in Warriors’ lap as the captain played with his hair.

Time’s breathes evened out to join the cacophony of rumbling snores of the others. Warriors smiled, ruffling his son’s hair fondly and turning his eyes towards the moon.

[penaltbox]

no promises - cole caufield

here’s a little fic that i’m actually pretty proud of and i owe so much credit to @puckyess​ for always helping me get these ideas rolling. if you like it let me know! feedback and reblogs are much appreciated!

word count: ~5.9k

__

The image of the gold chain he always wore dances behind your closed eyelids for the third night in a row. You swear you can hear his ragged breath in your ear, his mumbled profanities mingling with the gasps you let out when he checks to make sure you’re still okay, and the brief mentions of something gone wrong during the game. It’s like he’s right there, pushing you both closer to a release of emotions that you played no part in aggravating. You’re ready to lose it when you shoot up in bed, your phone lit up on the side table next to you with a notification. You take a deep breath and steady yourself, not even realizing that you’d fallen asleep. You rub your hand over your face and grab the device to check who was contacting you at such a late hour. You had a feeling you knew who…

‘Speak of the devil’, you thought as you unlocked your screen and tapped on his message. You realize then that it’s just past one o’clock in the morning and you connect the dots that he’d probably just gotten back from their trip to Ohio State. 

‘come over’

Never a please. Never a ‘would you like to’. Never a doubt that you wouldn’t do exactly what he asked of you.

And you had yet to prove him wrong. You slip out from under your covers quickly, grabbing some clothes and sneaking into your bathroom with your fingers crossed that your roommate wouldn’t hear you. You shower quickly and shave, slipping on the lace underwear that he’d probably hardly notice and some comfy clothes before brushing your teeth and heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Your roommate asks, head peeking over the back of the couch as you jump in surprise. She was rarely up late, but of course, some west coast hockey game had kept her up well past her bedtime on that night of all times. You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed the TV still on when you walked out.

“Uhm, nowhere,” you lie, knowing she’ll see right through you, “I’ll be back tonight though.”

She sighs and turns back around, “you know he’s just going to hurt you.”

And that… that was probably true, but it’s something you refuse to think about in that moment. Instead, you slip your shoes on and grab your keys, heading out just as suddenly as his request had come in. You made a half-hearted mental note that this needed to be the last time you did this.

__

You hate how quickly you get to his place but you can’t help it. It’s like second nature at this point and you could get there on autopilot if needed. Some nights it felt just like that but tonight you had a weird buzzing under your skin. It wasn’t like you were doing this for the first time or anything. Far from it, in fact. You try to brush the feeling off as nerves and stop two doors down from his actual apartment, sending him a text that you’d arrived, just like he always asked you to do. 

It takes a few minutes but his head pops out of the door suddenly and he smirks, “about time.”

You roll your eyes playfully and walk towards him, leaning in to kiss his cheek before making your way towards his bedroom. Brock barely spares you a glance from the couch, focusing his eyes on the TV as he watches the replay of the game your roommate had caught earlier. You blush and turn towards Cole’s room, but manage to catch Brock telling Cole to keep it down in a less than pleased voice. 

You ignore it and make your way into Cole’s room, peeking out the window at the city below that was much quieter than you were used to with it being such a late hour. 

“Miss me?” He calls from behind you, catching your attention.

You turn and find him still donning the smirk he’d formed when he first saw you that night, “wouldn’t you love to know.”

He scoffs a little and you watch his demeanor start to shift. Cole never called because he wanted to see you. No, it was more that he needed you to be there. Cole had a short temper ever since getting to Wisconsin. He found himself easily agitated and regularly frustrated at how his game had gone from smooth and easy with the NTDP to always struggling with the Badgers. 

And then one night he met you. He didn’t mean to start hooking up with you but you knew enough about hockey that he could talk about what went wrong if he wanted to, but you also knew when you just let him have his turn to get his frustrations out. His mouth turns down in a scowl as he locks his bedroom door and closes the gap between you two. His stare is constant and you feel your cheeks heat up almost instantly. He had control over you that you’d never given up to anyone and it made for addictingly good sex. 

“This last game sucked,” he mumbles, backing you against the wall and resting a hand on your hip. He’s so close you can feel his warm breaths as he seems to disconnect from the world suddenly. 

He goes silent but you don’t need any other explanation. You’d watched the game and saw he got his shit rocked on a couple different occasions. You would bet there was a bruise somewhere under his clothes that you’d be finding in no time. 

He presses his lips roughly against yours as his free hand comes around your waist, holding you tight against him. His hand slides up from your hip and slips under your shirt until he gets up to your bra… or where it should be. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, pulling back and lifting your battered Wisconsin crew neck over your head, “no bra? I love it.”

Your heart stalls a little at the l-word, not expecting him to say that. You don’t get time to react though as he kisses you again, slower this time, and angles you over towards the bed. He lets you fall back on it and you smile, reaching a hand out for him. He takes it, giving you a grin back that makes the buzzing under your skin worsen. 

Cole was always different once he got you in his room. He didn’t say much when you got there or left, but when it was just the two of you? He was all hands on. He was vocal; he checked in on you, he praised you, and he always made sure you finished. But he never looked at you when he did. 

He’s quick to shed his own clothes and tug your joggers off, wasting no time as his lips found as much skin as they could. He left a couple marks, but not anywhere they’d be visible. You did your best to keep up, gripping his shoulders as you rolled your hips up against his. 

He’s settled into you and creating a pace before he says another word, his tone strained as he says, “can’t believe that goal didn’t count. Fuck that ref. We hardly got enough chances on net. Shit, I’m getting close, baby.”

“Just a little longer,” you squeak, digging your nails into his back as the pet name rolled through your thoughts. He never called you by name during sex. It was a red flag that stood tall but you still ignored it every time it happened. 

You could feel every failed play in the way he moved. You knew there were missed shots and poor passes that resulted in them losing. You watch the wheels turn in his head as he holds you down just a little harder, blunt nails digging into your skin. His left bites the skin above your collarbone and you know it’ll leave a mark but it still pulls an obscene noise from your lips. 

He presses his forehead into the crook of your neck, lips melting against your warm skin. He slips a hand down to help you along and it works much faster than you expected. You hated how he knew what would make your body react fastest as you tumble to your end. You try to catch your breath below him, knowing the hold he had on your hip would leave bruises. It usually did. He rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling for a couple minutes when he’s done. 

He looks over at you, the corner of his lips just slightly pulled up, “are you good?”

“I’m good,” you laugh, still a little out of breath, “just don’t make me stand up right this second. My legs feel like jello.”

“Deal,” he laughs, letting his hand slide over, hooking your pinkies together in the small space between the two of you. 

Once you finally feel up for it you slide out of his warm bed, grabbing your clothes and sliding them back on. Cole pulls sweatpants on and waits until you’re ready before walking you out. He stops at his own door first though and leans down, giving you a much more gentle kiss than the first that night. He lets you both linger, arms wrapped around each other, and leans his forehead on yours when he finally separates his mouth from yours. 

“I’ll see you next time?” He asks, but you both know the answer. 

“Yeah, of course.”

His demeanor turns back to friendly versus affectionate as he walks you to the front door. You notice that Brock is no longer taking up space on the couch and you feel embarrassed when you think of what he must have heard. 

Cole tells you goodbye, but there’s no hug and definitely no kiss this time around. He watches until you get safely into the elevator and leaves you with a nod of his head. You really wondered why you stuck around but when you remember the last kiss he’d given you, you can’t help but press your fingers to your lips as the buzzing under your skin heightens again. 

—

You watch the time tick down off the clock, wincing when you watch Cole smash his stick off the wall at the buzzer. They’d gotten destroyed by Minnesota and you already knew what type of mood he was in. The announcers make comments on the bad attitudes the Badgers were toting, mentioning multiple things they’d done wrong that night. You mute them but leave the feed running just in case they interviewed someone you’d want to hear from. 

It was a home game so there was no flight to wait for but you had a good feeling you’d be getting a text in an hour or two so you moved from the couch to your bathroom, not wanting to make him wait with how he was acting already. 

As soon as you wrap the fluffy towel around your body and tap the screen you see three messages waiting from Cole and one from a number you didn’t have saved. You frown and open it quickly, tapping the unknown number first. 

‘Hey it’s Brock. Sorry if this is weird but the doors unlocked and I’m gone for the night so deal with my brother please and thanks’

You laugh a little, knowing he must be way more worked up than you expected. ‘What a shit show this is going to be’, you think to yourself. You skim Cole’s messages next that range from ‘come over’ to ‘I’m dead serious get over here’. You’re about to type out a response when his contact pops up on your screen. He’d never called before. 

“Hello?” You answer, brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Why are you ignoring me? Get over here,” He grits out, sounding so tense your jaw drops a little. 

You sigh, tucking the phone between your shoulder and cheek as you hurry to your room to grab clothes, “I am, I promise. I was just in the shower.”

“We don’t make promises, remember? The front door is open when you get here.”

You’re about to tell him you knew that but the line goes dead, leaving you to stare at the blank screen in your hand. You’re baffled at the attitude he was projecting onto you but you get your things together anyways and finish getting ready. ‘

You don’t hurry to his place this time, knowing he was on edge either way, but you still get there in under 20 minutes from when he’d called. You bite your lip as you try the door handle, finding it unlocked just like both Caufield boys had said. You take a deep breath and walk in, locking the door behind you

“Cole?” you call out, looking around the small space. He’s not in the kitchen or living room so you head down the hall. His room is dark, leaving you confused, but then you hear the shower. You tap on the door and peek your head in, “Cole?”

His head pops out from around the corner, a frown so prominent his forehead was creasing. It eases off his face a little when he locks eyes on you as he calls for you, “will you come here? Get in with me.”

Your face heats quickly. You’d never done something so intimate with him and you were wondering if it was really the best idea. Your skin starts to get that all-too-familiar buzz under it now and you were starting to think it was permanent around him. 

“Are you sure? I just took one and I don’t mind waiting in your room until you’re done.”

He sighs, pouting a little, “please.”

You really wished you had more willpower in that moment but when it came to him you just didn’t. You nod and make your way into the small room, striping your clothes off as he watched. It makes you feel so much more exposed than usual but somehow it’s not uncomfortable. You push him back gently as you go to step in, smiling a little.

“You better make room if you want me in here,” you tease, putting your hair up in a bun to keep it dry.

Cole smirks and pulls you into him, eyes still scanning your body, “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

You snort at that and roll your eyes, “we both know that’s a lie. You’re the one who calls the shots around here.”

He’s silent for a moment before he smirks and leans down, kissing you hard. He bites gently on your bottom lip, much to your surprise, and lets a hand trail down the side of your thigh. He looks like he’s up to no good when he pulls back, making you let out a little laugh. You knew when you were in trouble with him. 

“Let’s see what it’s like in the shower. I bet you sound amazing in here,” he says, his tone low enough to make you shiver a bit. You didn’t hate the idea. You were pretty sure anywhere the two of you chose would be worth your time, but the bathroom was… well lit. He’d see every inch of you and you were pretty sure he hadn’t yet.

“Are you sure?” you check in, half hoping he’ll change his mind for some reason. 

“Yeah I’m sure. I think it’ll be fun,” he nods, but stops when he notices your hesitation, “unless you’re not cool with it?”

“No! I’m okay with it! I just was thinking we’ve never really done anything with so much, you know, light and stuff,” you blush, looking down at your feet then and feeling a little silly for your admission. 

Cole reaches out to tilt your chin back up towards him, “I’ll let you call this shot.”

And you agree. You end up losing your footing a couple times, he has to hold your waist almost always, and you can’t help but laugh at the awful noises that are being made at an awful volume in the tiled area. It’s simultaneously the worst yet most fun sex the two of you had dealt with yet. It takes longer than normal to finish for you both so you’re exhausted by the time you both lean on each other to catch your breath. 

“Wonder what time it is by now,” you mumble, cheek pressed against his chest as you hug his waist tight. 

He looks down and leans to kiss your forehead so gently you can’t breathe suddenly, “probably pretty late. Did you just want to spend the night?”

You sigh and try to step away but his arms hold you tightly in place. You give him a look, trying to remind him that you both know better than to even think about doing that. This was still just a hookup. Or at least it was supposed to be. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you sigh, leaning your cheek back onto his chest to listen to his heartbeat rather than catching his stare. 

“You’re right,” he agrees, but he doesn’t sound very convincing. 

He carefully slips from your arms and out of the shower, grabbing his own towel before searching for an extra for you. He shuts the shower off and wraps the towel tightly around you, giving you another forehead kiss. He was really pushing boundaries for the night and you were struggling to keep saying no. 

You both dress in silence, but it’s far from awkward. You can see the tension is gone in his shoulders and he just looks exhausted now. You’re still determined to leave and keep things casual, but if you weren’t, you’d have him wrapped in your arms in his bed while you played with his hair. Luckily, or maybe not, you’d never know that was struggling not to think of the same thing. 

He catches you by surprise yet again that night when he kisses you at the front door. He usually played it cool and acted unattached in any of the common spaces but tonight was much different. You had so many thoughts in your head from the way he was treating you and you knew you needed to go. 

A quick goodbye and one more fast kiss, or you wouldn’t leave, and you were walking a little quicker than usual to the elevator. Maybe it was time to start telling him no. You laugh at your own thoughts immediately. You were way too gone for him to ever do that.

—

‘Let me know when you land and I’ll get ready’

You stare at the words that you’d texted, wondering if you blacked out when you sent them. You can’t take it back, unfortunately, and you’re left with the gnawing feeling that you shouldn’t have done it. Cole was always the one to ask you over. 

“You sent him what?” Your roommate asks, her eyes wide as she leans over your shoulder to read it, “oh my god, are you in love with him or something?”

“What? No!” You yell back, but truthfully you weren’t sure about that, “I just figured I’d check in with him first? I don’t know, I guess I just thought I’d get the ball rolling earlier today.”

Your face feels hot to the touch as you press your hand against your cheek. You know you must look like a lost puppy because your roommate wraps her arms around you immediately, rubbing your back soothingly. 

“Just be careful, okay? I know you have fun when you’re with him, but boys suck. You can’t trust him.”

You swallow hard and nod, knowing she was telling the truth. You nod as a silent agreement and tell yourself you need to start pulling away. It’s not that you want to. You always enjoy being with Cole. It’s more that you need to. 

Cole turns his phone on once the flight lands. A few messages popping up right away. He’s about to ignore them all when he sees your name ding on the screen right before he can lock it. He feels a little tug in his chest as he reads the words you’d sent him. He tries to shrug the feeling off but the smack on his shoulder grounds him more than anything. 

Brock stares at him, an almost knowing look on his face, “is that who I think it is? I thought you were the one who always reached out first.”

“I mean, I usually am. This is a first,” Cole says, looking back down at the message that has his face quickly turning up in a smile. 

“You know this isn’t a good idea,” Brock mumbles as he gives his little brother a side eye, “when are you going to stop playing with her emotions and make a decision? Because it sure looks like you’re getting your own feelings involved at this point, too.”

“I’m sure she just sent it because she knows by now. We practically have a routine at this point so she’s really not out of line or anything,” Cole justifies, starting to type out a message right away.

Brock laughs a little before standing to get off the plane, “just don’t come crying to me when things go wrong because you two wouldn’t talk about things and one of you ends up heartbroken. Or both of you.”

Cole sighs and tries to shake off the words from his brother because honestly, he knew what Brock was saying was the truth. He’d always said he wasn’t going to get into anything serious because everything until the NHL was just a short-term stay. He hadn’t listened to that rule in high school though and so far he was having a hard time listening to it at college as well. Despite the advice from his brother he texts you back, wanting to just go with what made him feel good. 

‘Don’t be late’

He throws a winking emoji on at the end, quickly softening the formerly demanding message. You nearly choke on your own breath when it comes in on your phone. You’d spent the last half hour pacing your apartment and overthinking the worst case scenarios that could come from your choice to text him first. You’re surprised that he’s so casual about it, if you’re being honest, but you chalk it up to it being a routine thing that you guys did after his games. It’s all you need to hear though and you finish getting ready while trying not to think too hard about what it meant that you were both showing a desire to be together. 

Cole barely drops his backpack down in his room when his phone lights up. He smiles subconsciously and opens your message as he’s walking back towards the front door. Brock happens to be walking in the opposite direction and gives Cole a solid shove on his shoulder, mumbling something about how soft Cole was getting. He ignores the comment and pulls the front door open quickly, looking over at you.

“Well look who it is. Get over here,” he says, directing his smile at you.

You blush when you see how happy he looks and it makes your stomach flutter. That couldn’t be a good sign, but you can’t help it. You walk over and lean in, testing to see where the boundaries were that day. He leans down easily, kissing you gently, and making your brain go haywire. He’d never done that in the common space. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours and giving a little squeeze as he takes the familiar path to his room. You were pretty sure you could walk the apartment with your eyes closed by now and you mark another little red flag in your head. They were tallying up faster and faster lately.

“You split the series, huh?” you ask, needing to break the silence with something to stop your thoughts from scrambling any longer.

Cole grins back at you, “yeah, they were decent so I’m glad we got that first win yesterday. Is that what it takes to get you to text first? A split?”

You can hear the teasing in his voice and it makes you blush, leaning your forehead on his arm, “stop, I thought you were back already. I didn’t mean to text early.”

He laughs, kissing your forehead and shutting the door behind him, “it’s okay. I didn’t mind it. We do kind of have that routine by now.”

“Yeah, we kind of do, huh? I just didn’t want to step over any lines with it,” you mumble, looking down where your hands are still connected.

“You didn’t,” he says quietly, grabbing your other hand and putting them on the back of his neck so he can wrap his arms around your waist, “don’t be afraid to do it again.”

You can’t form any words, opting to give him a little nod as your fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck instead. He kisses you then and it takes your breath away. It feels like more than the ones you’d had before and maybe that was from his confession that he didn’t mind hearing from you whenever you pleased, but it’s a lot. In fact, the whole night is a lot.

He takes his time once he lays you down, picking you apart and finding every soft spot on your body. It isn’t rushed and aggressive like the hook ups usually were and you both were well aware of what you were doing. You even take a chance, tracing a bruise on his side with kisses to see if he’d let you. Usually he took charge and did things his way, but he lets you do what you want, making him whine and squirm like you’d never seen. You’re both exhausted by the time you’re done. You’d spent time, and for once, a lot of emotion on each other that wasn’t how things used to be. He pulls you against his chest after as he gently dances his fingers up and down your back.

“Same thing next weekend?” he jokes, getting a laugh out of you instantly. The sound makes the tug in his chest come back and he tries to push it away.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you say and pretend to think about it, “what if I have other plans or you guys win both games?”

“Why don’t you text first again and we’ll see what happens?” 

You bite your lip and start to sit up, knowing you needed to leave before you got too tired or lost your willpower to tell him no. Cole frowns immediately and you catch the look right away, teasing him, “you aren’t so tough after all, are you, Caufield?” 

“Just stay,” he says, his tone low enough to make your stomach flip as he catches your wrist, “you already broke your rules once today. Do it again.”

You toss the idea around in your head, knowing this would go much farther than it should. It would step over so many lines, but your composure wasn’t very good around him anymore. You nod, leaning down to kiss him before settling back against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and kisses your temple. You hate how happy you feel with him as you remember all the red flags he’d given you in the past. You close your eyes and just try to relax. Next time you’d discuss what was going on. That was one promise you wanted to keep for yourself.

__

You and Cole go silent for the rest of the week after spending the night, but that was normal. You two didn’t talk any other time and you didn’t reach out unless it was after a game to sleep together. Still it manages to nag at you and you kick yourself. You caught feelings. You should have known better and cut things off weeks ago when you’d first started to get butterflies. Now it was too late and you knew you needed to have the ‘what is this’ talk with him sooner rather than later. You couldn’t keep wasting your time on someone who wasn’t going to stick around. You manage to make it through the week without reaching out to him, saving the interaction in case they lost their games that weekend and you’d inevitably hear from him then. 

Except they win.

Except he texts you immediately after the game with a message you’d never gotten from him.

‘Can we talk tonight?’

Your heart hammers in your chest as you read the four words over and over and over again. They’re burned into your memory by the time you look up, realizing your eyes had begun to tear up. You knew you needed to talk but you weren’t ready for the request to come from him. You send back a thumbs up emoji, not knowing how to string together any words that would make sense. You go on autopilot after that as you play through every possible situation that could come from this. 

Realistically it could either go really well or really poorly. He could say he also had feelings for you and that he wanted to make things work. Or, the worst option, he could tell you he didn’t have any feelings and he was done hooking up for good. You run through both options until your mind goes static and you have to force yourself out of the shower that’s run cold from being in it so long. You go through the motions of getting yourself to his place and sending the ‘here’ message that was customary at this point.

When he opens the door he doesn’t give you a smile, but waves you over. Neither of you go for a kiss and the air feels heavy around you both. It does nothing to calm your nerves or the churning in your stomach. You knew you weren’t there for a hookup that night, that much was obvious. It’s Brock standing in the living room that surprises you most. You catch his gaze and the soft, almost apologetic, smile he gives you sends you into overdrive. What the hell was going on?

With a hand on the small of your back, Cole ushers you towards the one room that usually offered privacy and relief, but this time it looked like a death sentence prison cell. His hand feels hot on your back and not in the good way that it used to. You lean against his desk when you get in there, immediately crossing your arms across your chest to get away from him. He shuts the doors softly and shoves his hands in his pockets as he stands in front of you. He still has his game suit on, minus the jacket, and you let yourself look. He looks ridiculously handsome and you commit the image to memory, having a feeling this was the one and only time you’d be getting that view. 

“Would you just tell me already?” you whisper, knowing that the worst was coming. 

He runs his tongue across his bottom lip, nodding, “I don’t want to hurt you. I really don’t. It’s exactly why I’ve always said we can’t make promises to each other.”

You frown at him, “so then don’t. It’s literally that simple.”

“It’s not though,” he says with a little laugh, “I already made my promises to someone else.”

Your blood runs cold at that and you realize you hadn’t thought of one very awful possibility of why he wanted to talk. He had someone else already. Your throat feels so tight that it’s hard to breathe and you try to suck in a deep breath that doesn’t help at all. You shake your head and tighten your arms more across your chest, praying it helps hold your heart together for just a little longer. 

“Who is she?”

He hangs his head like this entire thing isn’t his own fault, “we were together in high school and now we go to separate schools. I didn’t want to hold her back but I don’t know how to let her go either.”

“So you’re a cheater,” you spit out, tears falling fast before you can even try and hold them back, “you’re cheating on her and I’m the other girl. What the fuck is wrong with you, Cole?”

“It’s not cheating!” he tries to justify, holding his hands up and stepping closer to you, “we’re not official right now.”

You push him back, hand firm on his chest to give yourself space, “fuck you. You’re as official as you can be and you still slept with me for the last four months. You knew what you were doing and you didn’t care. You didn’t have her here so you found a good substitute. That’s awesome, thanks for fucking up my life and emotions in the process.”

“Stop, I told you I didn’t want to hurt you. That’s why I’m being honest right now.”

“Honest?” you raise your voice, well aware that Brock could probably hear everything at this point, “you call this honest? You’re a liar and a cheater, Cole Caufield! I can’t believe I let you play me for this long.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I swear I didn’t mean for this to be the way it is,” he says, practically pleading at this point. 

You shake your head, bottom lip wobbling as much as your voice, “you broke my heart. Are you happy with that? Was everything a joke to you? Sleeping together, forehead kisses, holding hands, spending the night? Or did you just picture her the whole time and I was just a stand in?”

“No,” he mumbles, trying to reach for you, but you smack his hand away and start to back yourself towards his door, “I swear it was real with you. I didn’t mean to take it so far but I started to like you, too.”

“You are unbelievable. I can’t believe I let you in so easily. I hate you.”

He swallows around a lump that appears in his throat suddenly. This wasn’t at all how he’d planned things. They were never supposed to go this far with you, but he couldn’t let you go. He couldn’t but now he had to. He had no options anymore and he would probably lose everyone in the process. 

“I promise I will hate you for the rest of my life,” you whisper, cheeks wet with tears despite your best efforts to try and rid yourself of them before you left. He didn’t deserve to know how much he was breaking you.

You rip open his door and all but run out of the apartment. Brock catches your gaze from the living room as you open their front door. Immediately his heart breaks a little. He knew the entire time and never saved you from this. He was just as guilty as his brother was. Cole stays frozen in place where you’d left him in his room, heart hurting despite everything. He’d let you keep your promise about hating him. That was one he deserved to carry with him.

[heart-wit-strength]

Lean on Me -Amphibia Oneshot

'Sometimes in our lives, we all have pain, we all have sorrow, but if we're wise we know that there's always tomorrow.'

*Following the ending of 'Marcy At The Gates'*

Because I just wanted to write Anne and Marcy being cute without, y'know, dying for once. My first Amphibia fic so no, it's not that good, but well, I tried. Here ya' go @milkshakekitty ❤️

––

Anne smiled warmly as she clutched onto Marcy’s hand as they swiped through the pictures, she had to catch her up with all the adventures they had in Amphibia without wasting any time. “Here’s me and Sprig by the lake. There was a snake that tried to eat us.” Anne commented. “Oh, oh, and here’s us running from a centipede that-”

“Let me guess, tried to eat you?”

Anne gasped, mouth agape in astonishment. “How did you know?”

Marcy giggled to herself. “Duh. This is Amphibia. What do you expect?” they swipe through some more pictures. “Wow, Anne. You and Sprig really seem really close, huh.” Anne blushed, twirling a strand of her hair in her finger.

“You could say. He’s…kinda the reason I've really been able to keep going, especially ever since separating with you guys, life’s been hard.” Anne admitted. “Feels like yesterday when I was absolutely freaked out was when I found myself stranded in the woods of Wartwood all alone. I’m gonna be honest with you, Mar-Mar, eating bugs ain't my favorite thing ever, or fighting tax toads…and stuff but I’ve come to think I’ve somewhat grown on this place and it’s because of Sprig and the Plantars.”

Marcy joyful smirk couldn’t help but fade slightly at the sound of all the things Anne had been through. “Yeah, I…can't disagree with that.” She muttered, looking away and pulling a strand of her hair behind her ear. “The Plantars really are sweet. And the little frog dude? He seems quite protective of you, no wonder you mean a lot to him.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry for all the…suspicion Sprig had on you earlier. I told him it was kinda uncalled-for, but a lot of stuff has happened and…”

“Oh please. I don’t mind at all. Believe me, I’ve seen a lot worse phases of skepticism in several rural civilizations I visited. Your friend seems a lot more open.”

Anne frowned, could she really blame Sprig though? Her other friend had almost killed him, and initially Hop Pop too. It just felt a bit uneasy having to tell Marcy that he had thought she was gonna be the same, what would she think? She didn't want Marcy to also hate her best friend like the other one did. Anne vaguely swiped through another picture on her phone, and what came up was her other friend. Anne’s didn't acknowledge herself holding her breath and frown at the sight of the blond girl on her phone screen.

“No way! Is that when you and Sasha reunited?” Marcy exclaimed with excitement, pushing her face between Anne and the phone screen, the picture of Anne and Sasha smiling and posing at the camera. “Heh, the armor suits her. Is that a Toad army uniform? She looks so different.” Anne rolled her eyes.

“She does.” Anne shoved the phone back into her pocket and stood up, looking into the distance, clutching the tip of her sleeve. “Literally. She’s changed.” Marcy, with a look of uncertainty, approached her.

“You said you had you had a fight, didn't you? But see, Anne…you know Sasha, we’ve known each other since we were kids, that’s the way she’s always been. Sure, she’s got a bit of temper, but I’m sure she’s still our friend. No matter what.”

‘She’s our friend. No matter what she does.’ The words echoed in her mind. ‘Nothing can change that.’That’s the one thing that had kept Anne bounded all these years. She was so busy making sure Sasha got away with all the trouble she was too blind to figured it out whatever she was doing with them was anything but friendship. All for they just couldn’t risk her somehow not wanting to be their friend anymore, for that would be the end of it all.

Wouldn’t it?

“She tried to kill my family, Marbles.” Anne’s tone cracked. Marcy’s eyes wide opened, stunned.

“She what? No way,”

Anne sniffed. “She tried to hurt Sprig, and Hop Pop. She’s far from justified. It’s too late, it’s time she takes responsibility of her actions. She’s way past treating us like we need her to make our decisions for us. Acting like…she can do whatever she wants because we just can't risk losing her because she convinced us that we’re NOTHING without her.” She panted, her face going red in exhaustion. Marcy stared silently at her friend with wide eyes. Anne breathed out and smiled warmly, looking into her eyes. “Well, we’re not. You and I are here, without her, doing just fine. The Plantars helped me make my way here to find you, we don’t need her to lead us. Dang, look how far you’ve come, Mar-Mar, you’re the literal hero of Newtopia and all, you bet Sasha would’ve never guessed that to come from the School’s science nerd, am I right?”

“Aw, quit it, Anna-Banana.” Marcy punched her playfully with a blush. Anne rubbed her arm and elbowed her with a smile. “How about we go for a walk? Bet that’d help. I know the perfect spot, c’mon, Anne!” Anne had barely processed anything Marcy had said yet before she was grasped by the arm and yanked along by her. After a moment of blindly letting herself be hauled along, when Marcy finally stopped Anne was marveled at the scene before her. What they stood upon was a hill, from where all of Newtopia could be seen. “Whoa.” Was all Anne could say, “That…sure is something, dude.”

“I know, RIGHT?! This is the most fun spot of the city next to the library, check this out!” Without a warning, Marcy hopped off her feet and let herself roll down the shimmering cool grass. “Anne, look I’m a Springroll!” Anne couldn’t help but chuckle at this until she noticed that Marcy was going to rolled herself right into a giant rock.

“Rock! Marcy, rock!” She shouted.

“I know! I rock at this!”

“NO! Marcy, look out!” Anne didn't acknowledge herself diving down and grabbing the girl before she’d crash herself. Anne panted heavily, holding her close. Marcy grinned.

“Heh, I get carried away sometimes. Thanks, Anna-Banana.” Anne sighed deeply and got to her feet, dusting herself.

“Sometimes. Pfft, sure. You can do me a great favor by being careful for five minutes for frog’s sake.” She retorted. Marcy blinked, wondering if she wasn’t being a help. Nah, there was no way for that to be, she knew how to cheer up her friend. Just as Anne began walking away, Marcy grabbed her hand and pulled her down. “Marbles, what are you…? AAAA-” she screamed as the two rolled further down the hill. “MARCY!”

“Isn't this cool?!” Marcy laughed as she gripped on her tight. When they stopped, Anne held her spinning head.

“Dude, what the frog?!” She complained, rubbing her head as Marcy continued to grin. “That was insane.”

“Insane and fun!”

“Pfft, yeah.” Anne couldn’t help but chuckle, slightly punching her shoulder. “Don’t do that again.” She looked up at the sky full of stars, sighing to herself. Funny how it was only her and Marcy now, without Sasha telling them what to do, just like back in…kindergarten? Well, that was quite long ago.

And surprisingly for all, she was actually feeling…good? It was true she always felt a lot liberated around her. As Anne had described to Sprig earlier, Marcy was indeed harmless. It was almost astonishing how she was totally living the moment and barely seemed concerned about everything that had been going on. How long they had been away from their parents, and haven’t seen each other in months until now, how Sasha tried to kill her family…

She couldn’t keep herself from remembering the tearful look in the girl’s eyes during their last encounter. ‘Hey, Anne?’ The last words from Sasha echoed in her mind again. ‘Maybe you’re better off without me.’ And in a blink of an eye, feeling her hold on Sasha’s hand loosening and having to see her former friend nearly fell to her doom.

Anne shook her head. No, that wasn’t her fault. There was no way it being her fault that Sasha rejected the help, rejected her, something she had always been afraid of. But somethings were inevitable, and in the end they were alright, she was okay and Sasha had…other people to stand by her, to follow her lead rather gladly.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Marcy spoke up, who was relaxing down on the grass.

“I often like coming out here to read. It actually feels pretty great out here, heh. Andrias prefer to join me sometimes, we had SO much fun together. Gosh, I LOVE this place!” She lied on her back, whirling her arms and legs, and enjoying the feel of the soft grass beneath them. She suddenly gasped and sat back up, eyes shining and a dreamy look on her face. “Y’know what I just came up with? What if…we made a hideout here? Brilliant idea. If we use the correct type of wood according to the air moisture, but wait we also need to bug-proof this place, we could try-” She stopped when we noticed Anne zoned out. “You okay there?”

“Huh? Yeah, and yeah we should totally do that.” Anne said, sitting down beside her, one arm wrapped around herself.

“Are ya’ cold?” Marcy asked with concern.

“Huh, no, it’s not that. I’m just-”

“Aw shucks! I should’ve known it! You always get a cold out in the night. Here, have this before you go all sneezy.” Marcy proceeded to take off her cape.

“No, Mar-Mar, really, I’m-” Anne was interrupted by her own sneeze. “…fine.”

“You’re not, Sneezy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Heh. You know? It could be a sign someone is thinking about you.” Marcy smirked, tapping her chin.

“Yes, I know that, Marcy.” Anne replied, flushed and rubbing her itchy nose. “But I think I’m just cold.”

Marcy shrugged. “Eh, anyway. Here, you can have this. Don’t worry, it’s not on fire…yet.” she joked as she wrapped the cape around her shoulder. “Remember when we used to go to the café after classes, you always ordered hot chocolate while me and Sasha went for soda. Even then, you get sneezy. You always have it colder than us.” Anne blushed as she curled up.

“Thanks, Marcy.”

“About Sash, Anne, all of that sounds real rough, hard to believe actually, I never thought she’d…go that far.” She sounded much disappointed by the finish.

Anne sneezed again. “I’m not even surprised at this point. She’s always been a jerk, we were just too blind to notice.”

Marcy leaned back, fiddling the tip of her toes. “I…kinda always thought she was like the protector of the group, and that she’d always look out for us.”

“She likes to show me that I’m the weakling,” Anne’s voice cracked. “So that she’d feel better about herself. That’s why she tried to kill Sprig, he has been the first to make me realize that I was friends with a jerk. I guess that’s it, all she cares to have is control.”

Marcy’s eyes moved back and forth for a moment before she gently placed a hand on Anne’s shoulder who just sat there, hugging her knees. She felt a bit guilty about the fact that despite always being there, she had never been the one to realize what Anne had been going through, that Sasha was basically pushing her around. Maybe if she even did, there wasn’t much she could do to change it.

“Hey, you ain't a weakling to me. Pfft- Yeah sure, Sasha always liked to show off her strength, I rolled with it because it seemed like the only thing she was ever into. But hey, you know how much you look out for me.” She lifted Anne’s chin. “Even back in that cave today? You looked out for me. My point is, you’re so much more than you think, Anne. We might need her on our way back home, we aren’t gonna leave her behind. But whether or not she is there, you know you matter so much to everyone. You’ve got me, you’ve got the Plantars, and Sprig; it’s gonna be okay.”

Anne wiped her watery eyes with a smile, Marcy blinked as Anne embraced her into a hug, she smiled and hugged back. There was a moment of silence between them while they hugged until suddenly, Marcy sneezed.

“Huh, wonder who’s thinking about me?” She remarked, wiping her nose.

“Perhaps the librarian back home, for all the books you didn't return.” Anne commented sarcastically. Marcy narrowed her eyes and elbowed her. Anne shook it off with a chuckle and wrapped the other end of the cape around Marcy’s shoulder. “There. Now you won't get all sneezy either.” Marcy rolled her eyes with a smile. Anne leaned her head against hers, staring up at the stary sky, spotting a shooting star passing by.

“I don’t ever want to lose you again, Mar-Mar.”

“Me neither.”

[mycouchpullsoutbutidont]

Need to write all this down because I just stared into space for a solid 30 min just dreaming about this scenario / potential fanart comic that I could draw of Ben x Devi (I’ve been obsessing over them for the past couple of days and it’s probably due to me not having good dick since god knows forever)

(Draft)

So the comic will start off with Devi being sort of upset and horny, reminiscing about her interaction with Paxton - maybe a really hot makeout sesh and they’re about to have sex - except last minute, Devi gets cold feet and it’s sexually frustrating for Paxton. So Devi is hella embarrassed and mad at herself for pulling back. She tries to initiate again, but Paxton is just like, “forget it, you’re not ready,” and Devi is like “no, I want it.” And Paxton pauses, looks at her, and shakes his head like “no, you’re not. It’s okay. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do something you’re not ready for.” Which Devi feels insulted by and is terribly sorry. Paxton just smiles and kisses her on the forehead and is like, “I think I should drop you off. It’s getting late.”

End daydream. Devi reels in secondhand embarrassment and is mad at herself for stopping. She vows not to do that again and, of course, in typical Devi fashion, she thinks to herself, “well, if we end up having sex the next time we makeout, I better do my due diligence and research into how to properly have sex.”

And what other way to learn about something than to study up on it?

She begins thinking about how she could do her research. She’s studied anatomy before and knows the basics - the testicles, the glans, urethra, sperm, prostate, yadda yadda. And she’s taken health class and sexual education on how to put on condoms (on bananas- nonetheless - San Fernando valley had pretty liberal sex ed).

But she’s never seen what sex looked like. Never heard it. Never smelled it. Never experienced it from afar or visually.

That’s when she thought of it - porn.

She goes to her room, opens up her laptop, and googles “porn.” Search results pop up, and she catches glimpse of some of the keywords.

“Perky oiled brunette shoves two cocks in both holes”

“Slut sucks slobbers on big veiny dick”

“Curvy sexy ebony rides and squirts before getting facial”

The ache in her groin gnawed even more and—did she just twitch down there? With her blood rushing to her cheeks and between her legs with each horny, perverted word that her eyes came across, her fingers tremble and her body - her breasts - feels like it’s tingling, aching and needing to be roughly handled.

Nervous and horny, she clicks on the first one: porn hub.

She enters a site of orange and black - a pop up window asks if she’s 18 or older. She hesitates, feeling dirty and corrupt. She clicks on enter.

Squares of images lined in a grid populate, organized by category. She skims the words - “Anal”, “BBW,”“Cumshot,” “Compilations”—the list went on and on.

One of the categories catches her eye: “Desi.”

It was both laughable and eye-opening to see that category. A category just for Indian women? She was both amazed and flattered, and for just a brief moment, she wondered if her ancestors could see her.

Her father, she thinks.

Oh god, why is she thinking of him all of a sudden.

Ashamed, she shakes her head, exits out of the window, and closes her laptop. A cool chill runs down her spine, calming her excitement, chilling the pulsating heat that had pooled between her legs. She’s embarrassed for thinking of her dead father and for even thinking of looking up porn. She’s ashamed and pushes her laptop away, now doubly frustrated at herself and for still being sexually pent up. She gets up to grab water in the kitchen, hoping the ice cold water will help temper her aching need.

The doorbell rings.

Devi’s ears perk, and she furrows her brows. Who could this be, she thinks, as she ran down the stairs, walking to the door to peep through the hole.

She gasps, “oh crap.”

It’s Ben!

“Shoot, I forgot!”

Ben was supposed to come over to work on a history project with her - and have dinner, she remembers, since she told her mom and her mom insisted.

“Ah, yes Ben! I remember that boy with the massive pimple on his face who cried in my office!” Devi smirks at Nalini’s comment but then remembers, dammit, why did her mom also want him for dinner?

She opens the door, deepens her frown, a blush creeping on her face as she locks her brown eyes with light blue ones.

“Sup, loser,” Ben says, and Devi almost loses her blush except he smirks, a twinkle in his eye, and a slightly lifted brow. Devi’s eyes trail down over his shirt which clings to his pecs and biceps, and she feels the blush coming back.

And then she notices his strong arms and hair and veins—

“Fuck you,” she says, rolling her eyes, quickly turning her back against him so he doesn’t see her blush harder.

Jeez, what’s wrong with her today? Devi thought (as well as Ben). Why was she so god damn horny?

“What’s your problem, David?” Ben asks. He looks around Devi’s living room. “Where’s your mom?”

Devi shrugs. “Probably at work with her coworkers. Mom’s trying to bring more fun and benefits to motivate them, she claims.”

“Ah, that explains it.” Ben is a little relieved since Devi’s mom was a tough one to please. But, he knew that Nalini had a soft spot for him. (Or, at least he had a 95% confidence level in that thought).

“Actually, kanna, I’m just finish up cooking dinner here with Kamala,” Nalini chimed.

Ben and Devi snapped their heads towards the direction of the kitchen where Nalini and Kamala were cleaning up.

“And if you had helped me like you should have done, you’d know that I was busy cooking up aloo gobi dosas before leaving for my work event later tonight.”

Ben sniffed deeply, the aroma of ghee and asafetida and cumin wafting in the air. How did Devi not notice her mom was cooking with the delicious smells dancing in her home?

“S-sorry mom, I forgot. I just have been feeling a bit out of it today,” Devi replies sheepishly. “Kind of feel hot.” Which was true. Something was terribly wrong with her today for some reason. It felt like there was this growing ache down in her groin that needed to be filled, and with each step she took, every friction against her clit would send shivers of pleasure all over her body.

Before Ben could react, Nalini immediately runs to Devi’s side and places the back of her hand on Devi’s forehead.

“Hm,” Nalini scrunches her brows. “I don’t feel a fever, but you do have a slight blush. Devi, if you’re feeling sick, please don’t get us all sick and go to your room. You should’ve told us and Ben earl—“

“I’m not sick!” Devi blurts, shaking her head. Nalini is taken aback.

“I- I guess,” Devi lowers her voice, trying to come up with an excuse for why she was dickstracted—er, distracted.

“I feel burnt out from studying for AP physics and AP calculus this week,” Devi lies.

“Amateur,” Ben scoffs, smirking. He looks at Devi who snaps to look, looking both mad and flustered, her cheeks tinted slightly redder than normal. It was enough to wipe the smirk off his face. Was she okay?

“I’m not letting you show me up, you jerk!”

Yeah, she was okay, he thought.

“Devi!” Nalini’s jaw fell and she looked like she was about to chew Devi’s face off which terrified Ben.

“N-no, sorry Ms Vishwakumar, that was totally my fault and uncalled for,” Ben cuts in. He looks at Devi who still looks mad at him (but less so, maybe a bit of relief).

“Would it be all right if we study first and then eat dinner?” Ben asks, not sure whether to direct the question to Nalini or Devi first.

“Dinner will get cold,” Nalini warns. “But, I must leave now, so you two can do what you will and whatever regarding dinner.” As she runs towards the door and grabs the keys, Nalini whips her head back and stares daggers at Devi.

“Devi, behave please,” she says through gritted teeth before shutting the door.

Devi sighs in relief and turns to Ben.

“So,” she says, heading towards the stairs. “Let’s get moving. We don’t have much time before dinner gets cold and it’s bedtime.”

Ben nods, walking behind under her. He looks up - damn she has a nice ass - curvy and round. He notices she is wearing a pretty short skirt, and—was that…

Ben blinks twice in disbelief, looking away before looking again. It was no doubt what it was—sticky wet lubricant-like liquid. Running down her inner thigh. Or maybe that’s sweat, he told himself.

Ben blushes. Wow, he felt like such a pervert for staring up her skirt. That and they were going up to her room. To study. Yeah.

(But damn her butt, her curves)

As they enter her room, Ben immediately plops down on the floor, opens his bag quickly, pulls out his AP European history book and notebook, and opening them and flipping through pages (nervously?) and quietly.

“Dude, you’ve been eerily silent this entire time,” Devi torts, and she can’t blame him, can’t blame how nerve wracking it was to have your chiseled (wait shut up Devi) arch nemesis in her room - supposedly a safe haven - to study. Come to think of it, why did she let him in her room? She began to regret her decision, especially when she realized that her nervousness was also turning into heated excitement, her breasts were tingling with desire and even her clit—

“You said you wanted to hurry, so here I am, focused, David,” Ben snaps. He ignores the fact that she’s not wearing a bra and that her tank top isn’t enough to hide her hardened nipples.

(Her cleavage looked so inviting, he dare not stare too long at her tits)

“Actually, for once, you didn’t use your brain and suggest we work downstairs and eat dinner simultaneously instead,” Devi retorted. “Let me just grab my laptop and we can go back downstairs to study and eat dinner at the same time.”

“Don’t put the blame on me for your lack of brain usage,” Ben snapped back, rolling his eyes.

Devi throws a stuffed animal at his head, and he barely dodges it.

“Asshole,” she mutters as she gets on her knees and reaches over her mattress and duvet, grabbing her Macbook.

That’s when Ben saw her soaking wet panties.

Heat rushed from his head to his other head, his cock jumping.

Holy fuck, he thought, is she doing this on purpose? Why did she have to put her ass up like that? Was this intentional? This was a little too cliche, he thought, and porn-like. Girl wearing no bra and apparently soaking wet invites horny boy over to her room and puts her ass in the air while in bed?

“Uh, yeah, yep, sure, that’s probably a better idea,” Ben stammers, trying to ignore his growing boner and grabbing his books. “Lemme just stuff—“

(Those boobs)

“—these boo….ooks. Books. In my bag.” He pushes the last book in his backpack and zips it up.

Oh dear god, did she notice his almost Freudian slip?

He glances over at her, and she’s got a raised brow. “Uh, okay, weirdo, did you just almost say boobs?” Devi says.

“What, no?” Ben says. “You weird pervert.”

“Don’t lie! I saw you staring at my boobs! You’re the pervert!”

“What kind of crap are you projecting onto me for? I’m innocent!”

“You’re like the least innocent person I know!”

“That’s definitely not true,” Ben scoffs. “And even if it was, it’s better than being an Unfuckable Nerd.”

That did it. That was the straw on the camel’s back. Devi was enraged, insulted, and sexually frustrated. Ben had dug into a deep insecurity of hers, a wound that she desperately wanted to heal and prove herself out of. For all her life, she had never felt desirable, never had a boy flirt with her or ask her out or even given her attention. When Ben first called her an “Unfuckable Nerd,” she didn’t show how painful the sting of his insult was to her lonely heart. She did not want to be the forever nerdy virgin who was seen as sexually undesirable and —god forbid—ugly.

(Was that why Paxton pushed her away, she thought briefly?)

“Shut up!” she yells before chucking her laptop at him. She misses by a meter (thank god her eye hand coordination was god awful), but she’s not sure if she was even intending on hitting him with the laptop. Still, the moment the laptop flew out of her hands and onto her carpeted floor (with a nice thud), Ben knew he had made a huge mistake. And so did Devi (though she dare not be the first one to admit that she was wrong).

Except she was really wrong this time.

“Devi!” Ben exclaimed. “I’m—“

“Oh fuck Ben, I’m—“

“So sorry.”

Both Ben and Devi apologized simultaneously, with heavy regret and a tint of fear in their voices.

“N-no, I crossed the line, Devi,” Ben said. “It’s really…misogynistic and objectifying of me to call you Unfuckable.”

Because you’re quite the opposite, he thought.

Devi acknowledged internally the apology, but it still stung painfully in her heart. She wanted to let him know that it still hurt.

(Especially hearing that term from him).

Still, she knew she was also incredibly at fault for almost injurying Ben.

“I’m also sorry, I really…really should’ve not thrown my laptop at you. I could’ve injured you really badly.” Devi dropped down to her knees, getting down to Ben’s level since he was still on the floor, a bit shaken by her throwing her laptop at him.

“I guess I deserved it,” he said. He looked over at the laptop on the ground.

“But if you did break it, don’t expect me to pay for a new one,” he said with a smirk.

Devi rolled her eyes. “I’m not your sugar baby; I wasn’t expecting you to pay for a new one.” She crawls towards her MacBook (Ben consciously looking away since she’s on her knees again) and opens it, praying to herself that it was still functioning.

She tapped on her keyboard multiple times.

Blank screen.

“Oh fuck,” she whispered. She kept tapping on the keys of the keyboard.

No response.

“Crap!” Devi hissed. “Oh no, no no no!” She was sort of panicking. “I knew this would happen.”

“So why did you throw the laptop then?” Ben slyly asked.

“Not. Helpful. Ben.”

Ben scoots closer to Devi, wraps his arm around her—

Devi is shocked, his graze making her melt into his touch, sending the pent up frustration and heat back to her ache and pussy—

But, Ben was only merely reaching around to press down on her laptop’s button for a couple of seconds before the lock screen shone back on.

Oh, Devi thought, a feeling of defeat and disappointment settling in her chest. He wasn’t hugging her.

But, hey her laptop’s alive.

“Oh thank god,” she says, breathing a sigh of relief before turning to him - wow he’s somehow pretty close to her face and body and oof, his proximity sets a fire across her entire body —

“Consider yourself lucky. Looks like you don’t have to buy me a new laptop,” she says, smirking.

Ben scoffs.

“In your dreams, David.”

Oddly enough, Ben’s arm is still wrapped around her, his presence warm and enveloping. Devi is tempted to lean into it but knows better (especially not now when she has been hot and bothered all day).

She types her password in her Lock Screen, hits enter, and gasps in horror as she realized that she didn’t properly close out her browser full of porn -

(which is now blasting moans of cam girls fucking the selves with sex toys all thanks to livejasmin)

“Oh shit!” Devi immediately slams her screen shut again.

But it was too late.

Ben’s brows shoot up, eyes widening and jaw dropping in guffaw. A laugh of disbelief escapes from his throat.

“Holy crap! And you called ME the pervert?” Ben laughs. “Who’s the pervert now?”

But damn, wow, he’s turned on.

He tightens his arm around Devi in a proper hug now, pressing her closer to him, and leans in, an inch from her ear, whispering —

“You’re a dirty girl”—

Before pressing his lips on hers.

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Chapter 6: Jesus Is My Homeboy Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: Jake and Stella spend an afternoon looking for suitably embarrassing photos of Pooch to use on his Stag Party and when they find some older shots of themselves they take a trip down memory lane. But the trip is cut short when Evan arrives.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

A/N: So this chapter was written for For @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ and @sagechanoafterdark ‘s Winter/Holiday Challenge. Prompt- “That is the ugliest sweater I have ever seen.”

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 5

They were running low on time. There were so many things to do before Pooch’s stag party in four weeks that The Losers had all agreed they should split their forces to get everything ready for the weekend in New York. As such, Stella and Jensen had ended up pooling their resources and were currently browsing through pictures on Jake's laptop while Pooch was on his lunch break. Unfortunately, Cougar had the day off so he wouldn't be able to stall Pooch at the small café down the street but that would pose no problem if they hurried and got what they needed fast. Mind you, Jolene had done her fair share of work and had sent them a bunch of shaming Pooch pictures they could use for their ‘mission’ and picking the most embarrassing ones should surely be easy as pie.

The problem was, however, that Jensen was finding it hard to concentrate and keep his eyes and mind focused on the screen. In fact, hard didn’t even come close to describing. He was leaning so close to Stella as they studied his computer screen that he could smell her shower gel. A scent of vanilla and pumpkin which he could easily identify anywhere with his eyes closed. Not that he needed to keep his eyes open to smell something but he knew what he meant…

"Oh my god, Jake! Look at his fucking hair!" Stella suddenly shrieked before starting to howl, startling him and pulling him out of his useless wandering thoughts.

"What?" he asked looking at her before glancing back at the screen again as Stella grabbed the mouse and clicked on a picture to magnify it and show a young Pooch sporting an afro hairdo which made Jensen blink.

"Didn’t know Pooch was part of the Jackson 5" he laughed before he inhaled and looked at her “Oh my God, Stel, they were really the Jackson 6. Pooch is the missing link. Poor Pooch, abandoned after birth, discarded youngest son of an already overcrowded family." He sighed and Stella howled again, this time banging her hand on the desk.

"Did Jolene send you these?"

Jensen grinned, smug he was making Stella laugh hard at his wisecracks. "Yup."

"He is gonna kill you." Stella snorted as she shook her head.

"Nah, he will be too drunk to care, as we will all be." Jensen offered as he saved the picture into another folder, missing Stella wrinkling her nose, but hearing her sigh before speaking.

"I dunno if I'm going yet."

"What? Why?" Jensen inquired hastily, turning to look at her. "You have to come, Stel!"

"Yeah, but I’m not so sure. I mean it was nice of Pooch to count me in but..."

"He counted you in because he wants you there. You're a Loser." Jensen cut her off before she could even doubt her place in the tight group they all formed.

"Yes I know that and I want to spend a good time with you guys but…" she trailed off and at that Jensen inhaled and shuffled on his chair to sit facing her. She hadn't spent any decent time with them for the last month. Every time they organised something she ended up backing out as Agent Shithead happened to have booked them something to do, on the exact same night, always a coincidence.

Bullshit if you asked Jensen.

He was just pondering how exactly he could point that out to her, without pissing her off, when she continued talking.

"Ev was on about us going away that weekend. He's busy for the week or so after with stuff at home, so I won’t get to see him."

There it is, Jensen thought, but did his best to stay calm, even though he wanted nothing more than to scream at Stella that the guy was a jerk and it was clear he was doing this to keep her away from him. But Jensen knew he couldn't do that, not without ratting his nosy ass out for listening into their argument the other month, so instead he decided to keep it cool and play the role of the concerned, interested best friend and confidant.

"Oh, what's he got on at home?" he spoke, pleased to hear his voice sounded interested as opposed to prying. "His Auntie is moving house and he's helping. Then there’s like decorating and stuff so we won't see each other." Stella explained and Jensen could clearly see her frown burrow as she repeated what he suspected were the exact same words Shithead had told her, but the look on her face made it seem as if she was doubting them almost, now she was the one that was uttering them. Jensen felt a flicker of hope and sighed as he looked at her, pondering what to say. Don't jinx it now, Jensen.

"Don't sigh at me like that Jake." she pleaded, somewhat guiltily. "I was just thinking…good luck explaining to Pooch you’re not coming to New York with us because your boyfriend is busy the week after." he explained himself, almost spitting the word boyfriend, which he regretted the moment he did as he could see Stella's expression change from a concern to anger as he glared at him. "Don't start, Jensen." "I’m not starting anything, Stevenson." He declared, using her surname as well, making it clear her calling him by his hadn't gone unnoticed. "Just trying to make you see you’re missing Pooch’s Batchelor Party, which will only happen once in his life, so as not to make your boyfriend angry." "It's not about not making him angry, for fucks sake" Stella almost growled, visibly annoyed at his insinuation. "You sure about that? What would his reaction be if you told him you were coming with us?" Jensen pressed, ignoring all the red flags her tone and expression carried, in a desperate attempt to make her see for herself what, to him, was crystal clear. 

Fuck it Stel, why can't you see it? "I don't know.” Stella said, somewhat exasperatedly as she gave a shrug “He wouldn't be mad, probably disappointed but..."

However, as she spoke there was something in her voice and Jensen squinted his eyes at her. He could tell she understood that to be not entirely truthful, as he knew she was well aware Evan had a temper. Stella herself had kicked him out of her apartment the very same day he had confessed to her he didn’t want her near her ex, and from what he had heard since about a few other arguments they had, it always ended the same. Him raising his voice and guilt tripping her into thinking she was to blame.

So, all things considered, Jensen decided to change strategy and go down the guilt trip road. "Ok. Whatever you wanna do. But remember, disappointment goes both ways Stel." he stated as he shrugged and focused his attention back on the screen. "What's that supposed to mean?" Stella asked, frowning. "Just that by not disappointing your boyfriend, you’re gonna end up disappointing Pooch. But I guess its fine, he still got the rest of us. I just hope it doesn’t bit you on the ass one day.”  He insisted on making his point while flicking through the rest of the pictures. His eyes didn't leave the screen but he heard her groan besides him.

"You know what? I can't be bothered listening to you bitch." She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I’m not bitching Stel. Do whatever you think you should do. You already know my opinion, so that’s the last thing I’ll say on the topic." he said as he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "That'll be a first." Stella snorted, folding her arms over her chest. "Well if it has to be, so be it." Jensen shrugged again as if he couldn't care less, but he could feel her eyes on him and he fought to avoid turning his head to look at her.

"Just flip to the next photo JJ, before I smash your head through the desk."

Jensen was fuming now, but decided not to acknowledge that last comment, thinking instead when he finally unmasked Shithead, she’d be eating her words and apologising big time. Instead, he fought the anger down, took a deep breath and did as he had been told, flipping to the next picture which drew a smile to his face. It was a shot of all the Losers out at Christmas a few years back, five faces grinning into the camera while wearing tacky Christmas sweaters.

And, just as Jensen expected, Stella laughed heartily when her eyes spotted the one he had on and he grinned.

"You still have that sweater?" Stella chuckled, pointing at the item of clothing which depicted Jesus wearing a party hat whilst holding a balloon, with the words ‘BIRTHDAY BOY’ written underneath  "Yup. Don’t know where though. Must be at my parents. That’s if Gracie hasn’t found it and decided it’s the coolest thing ever."

“No one would decide that’s the coolest thing ever.” Stella laughed again and then grabbed his arm. "Oooh! Do you still have the photo of the time we went out back home with them all on, the Christmas before we passed out of training?"

Jensen took his eyes off her hand that was still grabbing his arm and rubbed his beard while thinking about the system folder the picture may be in. "Yeah, I think it might be in one of these." he said as he clicked on one named ‘Good Times’. Stella could see a load of thumbnails as they popped up on the screen. They were mainly shots of his family, but there were also a few of her and him and a couple of him and Gracie. And she was just thinking about how he still had some of the pictures they had taken together all those years back, wondering to herself if that meant he still cared for her after everything that had happened between them or if he had simply forgotten they were there in the first place, when she heard him say "Yup. There it is."

"Oh my God, look at that Jakey!" she squealed, her gorgeous smile on her face again, as Jensen noticed she was back at Jakey. “We look so young.”

Jensen smiled broadly at her before turning to look at the picture again, taking every detail of it in. It was a picture of him, his dad, Rob and Stella all in horrific sweaters. Jake wore the aforementioned item bearing the large Jesus image, Rob’s was a Home Alone themed Sweater, featuring the infamous picture Kevin finds in his brother’s room along with the quote- ‘Buzz, your girlfriend…woof!’ John’s had a 3D elf attached to the bottom emblazoned with the slogan ‘When I think about you I touch my Elf’ and Stella’s was the classier of the four, a sparkly green Christmas tree effect, with baubles hanging all over it. The four of them were rosy cheeked from alcohol (well, mostly…) and smiling broadly, Stella stood next to Jake as his arm curled around her waist, John to her other side as his draped over her shoulder.

Happier, simpler times for them all.

"Remember that afternoon?" Jensen asked her, smiling softly at a grinning and younger Stel on the screen. "Yeah." Stella smiled at him. "It was the afternoon of our annual Secret Santa dinner night at your mom and dad’s." Jake then turned to look at her, grinning. "That’s not what I was asking, Stel."  She chuckled and rolled her eyes. "You want me to say I remember our bunk up in the bathroom?" "Yup." he replied as he wriggled his eyebrows playfully at her. "My sweater was missing a few baubles when we made it back into the bar."  "Yeah" he reminisced as he grinned wildly. "Birthday boy got his very own porn show.”

Stella snorted, slapping his arm. "We are so going to Hell for that."

"Well if that's what Hell is like baby, I don't wanna go to Heaven." he quipped cheekily, making Stella slap his arm again.

“Stop it, Jake!"

"Okay, okay, sorry..." he chuckled. But he wasn’t sorry in the slightest about bringing up that memory and as Stella turned her eyes back to the screen he found himself back in that bar, one Friday afternoon in December 2002. It was the day before Christmas Eve and he, his dad and Rob were out for drinks on what could have been deemed as a forced boys’ afternoon because his mom had kicked them out not long after lunch stating that she and Jane were doing dinner with Jules. Apparently they needed to get started like five fucking hours in advance for some reason and thus, all three men had found themselves at their local bar at four p.m. wearing their ugly Christmas sweaters as was the tradition on that day. What they hadn't counted on was having to go out in them, least of all to a bar where almost everyone knew them.

Stella was meeting her girlfriends for a shopping afternoon before they all met up for dinner and drinks and the annual "joke" Secret Santa. Only this year they were two down as Rey and Dick were in Florida visiting some of Dick's extended family, who knows who exactly, as Jake wasn't very fond of paying attention to details when Dick Fitzpatrick spoke. What he did know however, was that they would also be examining pretentious venues for their wedding the year after.

Fifteen minutes after their first round was served, Jensen was putting his empty beer down as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and John immediately nudged him. "Give it a rest son! You've been glued to that all afternoon."

"Yeah. What are you doing? Talking to someone?" Rob snorted, rolling his eyes. "I wonder who."

Jensen grinned. "Not my fault my girl can't stand not to message me for more than thirty minutes."

“Keep telling yourself that. It’s you who can’t stand not talking to her." Rob quipped as John chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"You saying I'm whipped Robert?" Jensen asked sternly, tilting his head to look at him before his face split into another huge grin. "Because you would be absolutely right and I'm not ashamed to admit it." 

At that he waved at the bartender and ordered another round while John snorted and Rob shook his head.

"We’ve lost him, John." "We lost him a long time ago, Rob” John sniggered and Rob nodded seriously. "Yeah, so says Jane." He spoke as he leaned on the bar. "Shut up Robert, you're the one that drove two hundred miles home at like four a.m. because Jane was crying she had period cramps and you were away with work." Jensen jabbed at his brother in law.

"He got you there pal." John laughed loudly as Rob narrowed his eyes.

"How do you know that?"

Jensen just shrugged. "I’m her little brother, I know things."

Rule number two?... four?..., whatever, in military training; never reveal your sources or methods of information.

But Rob wasn't buying any of Jensen’s bullshit and narrowed his eyes again. "Jane told Stella, didn't she?"

"Maybe." 

Maybe wasn't a yes, right?

Rob rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"You wanna make this a competition? Because Jake’s been like that for years now." John teased Rob.

“Oh, shut up dad." Jensen protested as he passed him one of the beers the bartender had just placed in front of them.

John laughed before raising his bottle "You already admitted you were whipped!" and Jensen groaned as his dad took a big gulp of his second beer. "You know, Son. I'm kinda offended you don't make me coffee and toast every morning."

"What?" Rob asked, spluttering beer all over the bar.

"Every time Stel stays over, he makes her coffee and toast in bed. Fuck the rest of us, like.."

Jensen grinned and cut his dad off straight away. "No. I don't fuck the rest of you, which is why I don’t make you breakfast."

At that some of the usual patrons turned to look at them as Rob started howling at John’s face. "He’s not wrong John."

"Guess I asked for that one." John mused before taking another sip of beer.

"You totally did, dad."

"Cheers to that." Rob quipped as he and Jensen clinked their bottles together.

"What is this, gang up on John day?"

"Come on old man. Don’t get angry and order another round for us." Jensen grinned, chugging his beer down and patting his dad's shoulder. So John did, and then when they finished that it was Rob’s turn to buy, and thus the cycle continued two hours later they were still perched at the same place at the bar, talking nonsense with alcohol running freely through their systems.

"Pity Rey and Dick are away this year because I had found the perfect shit Secret Santa gift for her." Rob whined and Jensen sniggered by his side. "A joke book?" "Nope. Her boyfriend is the joke." Rob quipped and both men started laughing until John corrected Rob.

"Ah ah ah, her fiancé." "Yup, right. Her fiancé." Rob repeated, raising his beer in a mock toast.

Jensen chuckled and leaned his head on his right arm where it was folded on the bar before speaking. "Fahk man. All she talks about is that fahkin’ wedding." "Well she's excited, son." John shrugged. "Too excited. She’s got Jane on the phone, all day." Rob complained and, at that, Jensen groaned raising his head again to look at Rob.

"And Stella, man. She’s dreading whatever bridesmaid dress Rey picks." Jensen paused, before grinning widely. "When me and Stel get married it's just gonna be one big party." John and Rob shared a glance.  "Well, we’ll see if you stay true to your word when we come to it." John said simply, not knowing if it was drunken Jensen speaking or if his son was being serious about it. But Jensen's next comment left no room for doubt.

"We already talked about it. No fancy ass do just a simple set of I dos and a fuck load of fun." Jake stated seriously.

Rob shared another quick glance with John as he raised an eyebrow. "You two talked about it?"

"Yeah." Jensen nodded but then frowned, spotting the expression on his sister's boyfriend's face. "What's the issue?"

"What's the issue? For fucks sake, Jake. You're only twenty-one" Rob argued and Jensen was fast to cut him

"So what? When you know, you know Rob."

"And what can you possibly know at twenty-one?" Rob insisted.

Jake just shrugged, any possible concern on Rob's part falling on deaf ears, he just knew. "Never be another girl for me."

At that John decided to help his son out. "To be fair Rob, he's been in love with her for basically the last ten years. Was just too chicken to do anything about it until he was seventeen"

Rob snorted and shook his head as he raised his beer to Jake. "Cheers to that man. You're a goner." and then sipped from his bottle before continuing. "You wanna spend your life with Rey as a sister in law, be my guest."

Jake looked at him and then shrugged again. "Worth it."

"Well, I guess that speaks for itself." Rob finally conceded which put a big smile on Jensen's face before he made a confession.

"I'd ask her now but we got training to finish first, so..." and then Jake hiccuped before gulping down the rest of his beer.

When they all finished their drinks and another round was ordered the three men were in an inevitable semi-drunk state and, as was to be expected, started cracking jokes and, what was worse, singing out loud. After being told to quit their fourth rendition of ‘Oh, Christmas Tree!’ by the bar tender, they moved back to jokes, Rob and Jensen trying to out-do each other with the trusty old ‘Yo Momma jokes’.

Jensen nailed rob with the one about his momma being so stupid she stared at a cup of orange juice for twelve hours because it said concentrate, to which Rob responded that Jensen’s momma was so short you could see her feet on her driver’s license photo. They continued getting more and more insulting until Rob grinned and pointed his bottle at Jensen, smirking.

“Yo momma’s so ugly, she threw a boomerang and it refused to come back.”

"Hey!" John protested, suddenly zoning into the conversation, making the two younger men howl with laughter. He clutched his glass as he glared at Rob.  "You're my least favourite son in law now, Danby." "I’m your only son in law John."  "Yeah, and you're shit." John stated, tipping his bottle towards Rob, spilling a little of the pilsner he was drinking onto the bar surface. "I’ll tell Jane you said that." "Tell her whatever you want. I’m her favourite father." John shrugged, taking a large gulp of his beer. "As opposed to that other one who shows up on her birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas?" Jensen quipped, grinning at his father. "What?" John asked, not understanding what shit his son was talking but then he realised what he had just said and snorted. "Oh God, I think I’m drunk. Your mother is so gonna kill me." "Just blame John. She can't shout at him." Jensen offered, trying to keep a straight face at his father's frown. "John? Who’s John?"  Rob and Jensen started pissing themselves laughing at John's dumbfounded face. "John Jensen, best disgusting person." Jake shrugged. John frowned and suddenly realised "Oh, you mean me? Hey! Why am I disgusting?"

"Because we have pretty much finished our drinks, your lagging behind and you haven’t ordered a new round yet.” Jensen fired his shot.

"I bought the last one." John reminded his son.

"No, you didn’t. Rob did." Jensen quipped as he winked at Rob.

"Yeah, he's right John. I did." Rob played along.

John was about to tell them both to piss off as he wasn't that drunk when he spotted Stella and her friends entering the bar and decided to play his son, with his one and only weakness. "Tell you what. Whoever cracks a smile first buys the next round. If you can go for two minutes I’ll buy the next ones. Think you can keep a straight face boys?” he baited them. "You mean you want us to be grumpy like you old man?” Jensen arched an eyebrow as he hiccupped. “But it’s Christmas, what’s there to be grumpy about.”

"You chicken, Son?” John teased him and Rob whistled as Jensen stopped dead, his almost empty beer bottle poised at his mouth.

"You just call me a chicken?” he slammed the bottle down on the surface, wrinkling his nose as he waved his hand in the air “Whatever man, start the damned timer." 

John did as told and put his phone at the centre of the table, so they could clearly see it counting upwards. The three men started looking at one another, examining each other’s faces for a flick of a smile as they tried to keep their own as straight as possible. And just as the two minutes were about to expire John tapped Jensen on his shoulder and nodded behind him.

Jake turned and just as he did a huge grin broke on his face as he spotted Stella, Then he realised, turning hastily to his dad with a groan. "Damned it!! You stitched me up."

John was already cackling as Rob banged on the bar, both men unable to hold back the tears of laughter.

"You know what, I don’t care. Here.” Jensen said as he slapped twenty bucks on the bar. "Imma go say hi to my Stelly." "Yeah, go Son. Say hi to your Stelly." John mocked him as he wiped the tears in his eyes.  But before Jensen left, Rob nodded to the twenty bucks and looked at John.

“Another twenty say he doesn’t come back in the next fifteen minutes."

"You think it'll take him that long?" John scoffed, earning a glare from Jensen who then looked at Rob.

"You suck.” Jake hiccuped. "Talking about sucking, fifteen minutes Jake." Rob teased him, tapping at his wrist. "II only need ten.” Jensen shrugged.  

At that Rob looked at John who shook his head with a smirk as he set the timer again. They then saw Jensen leave, crossing the room over to his girl.

As he approached, Jensen saw Stella's cheeks were pink most likely from a combination of alcohol and cold. As she spotted him, those cheeks raised showing off her dimples and her cute little nose wrinkled as she grinned hugely which Jensen loved. "Hi Jakey!"

"Hi, gorgeous." he greeted her back before kissing her and then grinned at her friends. "Ladies?"

They all murmured hi and Stella looked at him. "You gonna buy me a drink?"

"I’m buying you all a drink but you’re gonna have to help me bring them to the table, baby." Jensen offered, getting his plan rolling.

The girls all cheered Jensen and ‘complimented’ his sweater in return for the free drinks. "Jesus is my homeboy." he stated, seriously puffing out his chest causing Stella’s friends to laugh. "You’re so full of shit." she snorted.

"Rude, Stel."he narrowed his eyes playfully. "True." she admitted as she stood up patted Jesus's head. "Come on then, let's get these drinks. Be back in a moment girls."

"Yeah, sure." One of them spoke as the rest all giggled. "Don't make it too long guys."

Jake chuckled as he grabbed Stella’s hand and started leading her through the room.

"Jake, the bar is that way.” She started to protest. "Need a pit stop." He replied simply. "Right well you go pee and I'll meet you at the bar. Gimme your wallet." Stella ordered as she stopped in her tracks behind Jensen.

"Nope. You coming with me." he ignored her request, pulling her hand to keep her walking.

"What?"

 Jensen didn't answer her but yanked her towards the men’s restroom. "Shhh..."

"I'm not going in there Jake!" Stella protested.

"All right. Ladies it is” Jensen quickly spun to the door next to the gent’s and Stella scoffed.

"Jake! No!" She stopped again and yanked on his arm hard enough to make him jerk back, turn and bump into her slightly. “What's up?” his hands fell to her hips as he began to walk them backwards into the ladies bathroom. As he pushed the door open he checked around to make sure they were alone and began to pull her further into the room, ignoring her protests. He dropped his head to whisper in her ear, stopping just outside an open cubicle “You losing your sense of adventure, baby?” he softly nipped at her neck and she shuddered “God, you’re a damn bastard, Jakey.” She whispered.

“Yeah but I’m your damn bastard, Stelly.” “Oh, shut up!” she mumbled, grabbing the front of his sweater and pulling him towards her for a ferocious kiss before she pushed him into the cubicle, his lips curling into a smirk against her mouth. Once inside he backed her up against the door, reaching round to lock it, before his large hands cupped her face, the kiss growing deeper as his tongue slid against hers, grazing the roof of her mouth as she fisted her hands in his sweater.

“Don’t pull Jesus’ hair too much.” He quipped and she grinned, her hands sliding up into his own short locks, giving a shark yank tipping his head back, bearing his neck to her.

“I’ll just pull yours instead.”

A low growl rumbled in his throat as his hand slid up her sweater, his leg moving forward as he planted his thigh in between hers. She let out a moan as he pushed up sharply, the harsh denim of both their jeans grinding on her spot. She was soaked already, and when his fingers started to undo the buttons of her pants she was relieved that he wasn’t wasting any time. He pulled them downwards and pulled off the boot on her left foot, allowing her to step one leg out of her jeans, freeing her legs slightly as he gripped her left thigh, hooking it over his hip. Planting one hand by the side of her head, his other shifted her panties to one side, and he grinned again, his lips hovering over hers.

“You know, for all your protests, you feel pretty ready, Darlin’”

“Shut up and fuck me Jake.” She mumbled as his lips caught the pulse point on her neck, her head banging against the cubicle door causing it to rattle as his fingers slid into her folds, one circling her clit. 

“This what you want?” he asked, his breath was low.

“God, yes!” she muttered as his fingers picked up the pace. He inserted one inside, then another, and her head fell forward onto his shoulder as he curled it forward his digits forward against her spot, thumb circling her clit. Moving his other hand he slid it up her jumper and pulled down the cups of her bra freeing her breasts, gently rolling one nipple in between his fingers, his other hand still fucking her gently and she let out a gasp.

“Jakey for God’s Sake just fuck me already!” she repeated her demand and Jake grinned.

“I love it when you beg.”

“Prick.” She mumbled, as her hands flew to the buckle on his belt, opening it with a clink of metal before she easily undid his jeans, her fingers pushing them and his boxers down, allowing his hard cock to spring loose. Jensen hooked his hands under her knees and lifted her so her legs were round his waist, back pressed to the locked cubicle door. Once more he claimed her mouth with a heated kiss, swallowing the dirty groan she gave as he pushed into her.  

Her walls gripped him with their familiar warmth and tightness and with a sigh he began to move, slowly at first, gently, her hands grasping at his shoulders as she tilted her hips towards him, her clit grinding against his pubic bone and it was then that one of the baubles on her jumper pinged loose and dropped to the floor with a soft chink.

“Shit.” She mumbled, but her word cut off as Jensen rotated his hips, pushing against her harder and she gasped as his hips quickened their pace, his ruts becoming deeper and faster. Soon the bathroom was filled with the filthy sound of skin on skin, moans and groans, punctuated by the odd soft clink as bauble after bauble worked itself free from Stella’s sweater. Her hands were everywhere-in his hair, up his back, under his top, nails biting at the skin as she hung onto him for dear life. Jensen continued to slam into her again and again, lips kissing down her jawline, neck, nipping and biting softly as he went. 

“God I love you, Jakey” Stella gasped, her hands now on his face, bringing his mouth round to kiss hers again, the pads of her fingers digging into his short stubble.

“Love you too, my Stelly” he moaned into her mouth, the noise of the door behind continuing to rattle loudly as his pace didn’t falter in the slightest.

“Fuck…” she moaned, her nails sliding up into his hair and Jensen gave a gasp as he felt her tighten around him Her heels, one still wearing a boot, dug into his ass, her nails digging into his scalp as she groaned, her eyes wide. “Jakey, I’m…”

“You gonna come for me?” He asked as his mouth hovered over hers, eyes locked on hers, watching, and she nodded, a whimper escaping her throat, as her head banged back against the door.

“Shit, Jake, oh, oh…” and then her words and little noises died off, her mouth dropping open into a silent scream as she clamped around him, hard as her release took her away. Her entire body shook and Jensen gave a strangled groan that bubbled from the depths of this chest, and he clutched her to him, tightly, hips stuttering as he shuddered with the utter intensity of it all, before he too came hard with as surge that curled his toes.

Their chests heaved together as Stella clung to him, Jake’s head pressed into the crook of her shoulder as they both waited for the world to stop spinning around them. After a moment or two, Stella began to chuckle and Jake moved, pressing his forehead to hers, their noses bumping as he kissed her softly.

“You good?” he asked and she nodded.

“I am but I think poor Jesus will be scarred for life.” She grinned and Jake laughed, before he pulled out of her with a gentle sigh, setting her back on her feet. “Can we get that drink now?” she asked.

Jake laughed before he remembered what Rob and his dad had said to him and he quickly grabbed his phone, smirking.

9 minutes…

The memory faded away as Stella’s voice hit his ears and he turned to her “Sorry, what?”

She rolled her eyes. “I knew you weren't listening!”

“Sorry, was just thinking about that afternoon.” He grinned “Dad and Rob were highly amused we did the dirty with Jesus watching.”

“And whose fault was that?” Stella arched an eyebrow at him.

“I didn't hear you complaining. Well, not until after when you realised half the baubles were missing off your sweater.”

Stella snorted “My mom asked me what happened to it when we got back to yours. And your dad said…”

“Divine intervention!” they both spoke at the same time, laughing, only to be interrupted as Pooch walked into the office.

“Amen! What are you two up to?”

Stella wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and looked round at him. “We were just looking at some photos and reminiscing.”

“Some photos?” Pooch asked as he approached Jensen’s desk. Jake turned the laptop for him to see and Pooch bent closer before he shook his head.

“Jensen, what the fuck are you wearing man?”

“Question should be who the fuck was I wearing Pooch.”

“Or why?” Pooch shot back and Jensen shrugged.

“It’s a Jensen-Stevenson family tradition buddy.” He leaned back in his chair, scratching his chest over his uniform. “Every year we have a dinner and a Secret Santa. Well, we used to anyway before...” at that he sat forward and cleared his throat, noticing Stella look away as he did so. He quickly recovered himself and smiled up at Pooch “Rule was the worst sweater won an extra prize.”

“Well you nailed it Jensen because frankly that is the ugliest sweater I have ever seen."

“You’re going to hell for saying that.” Jensen pointed at him.

“Yeah and we'll see him there after what poor Jesus saw that afternoon.” Stella snorted. Jensen smirked asas Pooch looked between them slightly confused.

“What do you...” he trailed off, groaning as he suddenly understood and then scoffed as they both started laughing again. “You guys are...were...” he pulled a face, “oh that’s nasty.”

“What’s nasty?” another voice spoke and all three of them turned to see Evan in the doorway. Jake shut his laptop violently, in a display of petulance more than anything. He was damned if he was letting that fucker into their private joke. Evan arched his eyebrow slightly before his attention turned to Stella as she explained.

“Oh we just found some old photos of us in horrific Christmas sweaters.”

“Found? On his laptop? By chance?” Evan’s tone was slightly accusing and Stella shrugged, missing the glare he shot at Jake.

“We were looking for something else and got side tracked.” Stella waved her hand “Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you were in briefings till late?”

“I was but we finished earlier than expected and thought I could pick you up and maybe grab dinner at mine? I’ll cook.”

“Erm, sure.” Stella smiled “Sounds good.”

Pooch and Jensen exchanged a glance and Jensen merely rolled his eyes. Here she was again, backing out of a pre-arrange Losers social. But Jensen knew better than to raise that fact, certainly not in front of Evan.

As it happened though, Pooch didn’t.

“You not coming to the poker game then?” he asked and Stella blinked before she gave a groan.

“Shit. I forgot, erm…” she looked at Evan. “Roque’s organised a game.”

“Oh, okay.” Evan shrugged “I just thought we could spend the evening together. You never said anything about a poker game, Pumpkin, I wouldn’t have asked if I’d have known.”

At that Jensen rolled his eyes. The smell of bullshit was overwhelming.

“I must have forgotten.” Stella shrugged.

“Arty, you ain't been out with us for weeks.” Pooch pressed “Every time we organise something you’re busy. We got stag do planning to do!”

At that Jensen really did grimace given their earlier conversation. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

“I thought you weren't going to New York?” Evan spoke, his voice calm but Jensen spotted the nerve twitching in his jaw.

“What?” Pooch tuned to Stella and she groaned.

“Sorry.” Evan looked from her to Pooch, an innocent expression on his face and Jensen gripped the side of the desk firmly to stop himself doing something stupid. Like punching the fucker in the face “Did I put my foot in it?”

“What do you mean you're not coming?” Pooch completely ignored Evan, his eyes fixed on Stella as he waited for her to answer. She floundered for a moment, and Jensen sighed. He was torn, he felt sorry for Stella but on the other hand he really wanted Pooch to call her out and perhaps finally see what he had been saying for weeks- that Evan was a manipulative little shit.

“I haven't decided.” Stella shrugged, her voice quiet “I don't know what I'm doing.”

“You haven’t decided? What’s there to decide?” Pooch continued “You said you were coming Arty, I was counting you in”

“I know. I'm sorry, I just-“

“This is my fault.” Evan jumped in. “I'm busy for the week after helping my Aunt move house and I suggested we do something that weekend as we won't see each other. I booked us a hotel in Boston.”

“You did?” Stella frowned and Evan nodded before he took a deep breath and shook his head.

“I didn't know the dates clashed.”

“Sure you didn’t.” Jake mumbled to himself, turning back to the monitor which now showed nothing but the screensaver which was a picture of him, Stella and Gracie at her soccer game they had attended back home last year. Still, he pretended to be busy as Pooch and Evan stared at one another before Pooch shrugged, taking a deep breath.

“Whatever man.”

“I’m sorry Pooch I…” Stella started again and Pooch cut her off.

“No Arty, I’m the one who’s sorry.” His usually jovial tone was cold and Jensen saw Stella’s shoulders slump in the corner of his eye and wanted nothing more than to give her a hug.

“I think I’m gonna skip poker tonight.” She spoke softly and Jensen’s head whipped round to face her full on.

“What?”

“I’ll let Roque know you’re dropping out.” Pooch cut in.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Evan looked at her “I don't mind if you wanna go, we can do something tomorrow instead.”

This time Jake’s scoff was loud enough for all three of them to hear and Evan turned to glare at him. Jensen held his stare, his hands clenching into fists under the table. He was just about ready to explode.

“Yeah, I’m sure. It’s fine.” Stella stood up “I’ll see you both later.”

With that she grabbed her jacket and left the room, Evan behind her, his hand planted in the small of her back. Pooch and Jake exchanged a glance, watching her go before Pooch crossed the room and closed the door, turning to Jensen.

“Dude. She’s not coming on my bachelor party? What the fuck?”

“I told you the guy is a manipulative bastard.” Jensen grit through his teeth. “She told me earlier she didn’t know if she could make it as he wanted to spend the weekend with her. He’s doing it deliberately to keep her away from me, or us, whatever.” He sighed, “And I’d bet my last dollar that, despite what she says, she’s offhandedly mentioned something about poker tonight and he’s shown up here now, on purpose, to guilt trip her into not going.” His fingers traced his goatee. “I don’t know what to do, Pooch.

“I tell you what I do know.” Pooch looked at Jensen. “We need to get rid of him. He has got to go, man!”

Jensen blinked, and then a broad grin spread across his face as Pooch’s words registered. Finally, he had an accomplice, someone else who had seen Shithead for what he was.

A shithead.

“Welcome aboard, Pooch.” Jensen leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head “Welcome aboard.”

**** Chapter 7 Part 1

[notyetneedcoffee]

Our Secrets, Pt. 3

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: None this chapter, mainly annoyed Bucky and fluff!

A/N: This is the follow up to my No Secrets series.

You waited, outwardly looking patient, as Senator Joseph Tucker read the report provided by Bruce. Internally, you were rolling your eyes so far back into your head you could see your brain. It didn’t help that Bucky kept up an angry internal monologue that only you could hear.

‘If this pencil-neck little fucker thinks he can bench our girl, I’ll be teachin’ him different. Start with the fingers fiddling with that pen. Break each bone, one at a time. Every one of his fingers. Bet he cries like a baby. Pretty sure I can get him to piss himself by the time I got to his thumb.’

You closed your eyes and sighed.

‘She’s probably tired.’ Steve’s concern reached you. ‘I should stop this.’

Bucky knew better. ‘That was probably for me. Shit. Sorry, Doll. Just want to break his face.’

“Are we almost done here?” Steve asked.

“You’re welcome to leave whenever you wish, Captain.” Tucker didn’t even look up from the papers.

“How about food?” You piped in. “Are you hungry? We’ve got chicken fingers.”

Bucky snorted and turned away. This caused the Congressman to look up, scowling.

You smiled sweetly. “Or sandwiches?”

“No. Thank you.”

“It’s been a while since we’ve eaten. Do you care if I call in food?” You picked up your phone. “Or will we be wrapping up sooner than that?”

“Um…”

“I’m just asking because Bucky gets a little hangry.” As if on cue, he practically growled.

Tucker set down the papers. “According to Dr. Banner’s tests there’s still a measurable change in your neurological readings.”

“It’s inconsequential.” Banner spoke up. “Completely within normal ranges.”

“But it is more than her baseline.”

“Brain chemistry is not a zero-sum science. She’s within a normal range. This may be her new baseline.”

“Why do you not specify what triggered the telepathy in your report? You have the remnants of the device.” Tucker flipped through the papers some more.

‘He wants to duplicate it.’ Steve observed.

“Because we don’t know. There are too many factors. The simulations failed.” Banner provided.

“I don’t see any tests involving Miss Y/L/N. Only passive readings and blood tests.”

“I didn’t consent.” Your voice hardened.

“Was that necessary?” Tucker turned to Banner. “You had her unconscious for several days.”

‘Fucker.’ Bucky’s voice growled in your head.

“Yes, Senator, it’s still required to get an American citizen’s consent before running scientific experiments on them.” Steve snipped. “Or has there’s been an amendment passed that I missed?”

“What proof do we have that she’s no longer experiencing telepathic abilities?” He closed the folder and looked at Steve coldly. “How are we to know she’s not going to eaves drop on classified information?”

“The test indicate that her brain chemistry has returned to normal, and she says she’s not hearing us anymore.” Banner was losing his temper. “We’ve been over this a dozen times.”

“And we’re just supposed to believe her?” Tucker leaned back in his chair.

‘Let me kill him. Come on, Doll, they’ll never find the body.’

“That’s enough.” Steve snapped. “You’ve got everything you need. We’re putting her back on duty.”

“Is that so?” Tucker snapped back.

“Yeah.” You pushed your chair back and stood up. “Believe it or not, Senator, I actually know my rights in this scenario. I’ve had plenty of time to work with Stark’s best attorneys to figure out my options whether or not the telepathy went away. This meeting is a courtesy, not a requirement. I’ve been patient, but now I’m tired and hungry and you’re being rude. So, we’re done.”

‘Damn straight, Doll.’

‘Argue with her, asshole.’ Steve thought. ‘I dare you. I’ll throw you out on your ass faster than you can blink.’

“You’ll get my summary response in short order.” Tucker snapped as Steve, Bucky and Bruce stood.

“Can you find your way out, or would like me to show you to the door?” Steve gave a cold smile.

You didn’t wait to hear the answer, and just left. Bucky followed close on your heels. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, and he chuckled. “Chicken fingers?”

“I think I was very well behaved.” You giggled.

“Should have let break him.” Bucky whispered.

“You would have to beat me to him.” Steve’s voice mumble behind you. “What a jerk.”

The three of you made it back to the common rooms in the living quarters. Tony and Clint sat munching away at a huge plate of nachos. Sam was on the sofa, pillows tucked around him. A rugby match played on the television. You’d missed the simple things like this.  

“Hey! There she is.” Sam called out, voice a little slurred from the pain killers. He didn’t look that bad, but you knew he had a lot of healing up to do after his surgery. “Come here and give me some love.”

“Sam, I’ve missed you.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek before kneeling down beside him. “How you doing?”

“Stoned.” He giggled.

“He just took another dose.” Clint said through a half mouth of food.

Sam was making a funny face, having you ask. “What?”

“You really don’t know?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Oh good.” He took your hand in his. “I can go back to thinking naughty thoughts about that fine ass of yours.”

‘Hey!’ Bucky glared.

‘What?!’ Steve’s eyes snapped up from the tv.

You laughed. “You do that, Falcon. Just don’t tell my boys about it.”

“Riiiigghhhtt.” He nodded. “Don’t piss off the super soldiers. Got it.”

Steve chuckled at that. “Are you hungry, love?”

“Starving.”

Tony snickered. “Love. That’s adorable.” Bucky smacked him on the back of the head. “Ow!”

Clint laughed.

Steve grinned like a fool as he disappeared into the kitchen. He returned with a beer for you and Bucky, and a platter of food. You settled on the floor next to Sam. Buck and Steve took the chairs across from you. As you popped a piece of cheese in your mouth, Sam petted your hair. “Good to see you happy, kid.”

“He’s so wasted.” You grinned at Steve before turning back and looking at Sam. “Good to see you breathing, butthead.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Hey. Who’s a butthead?”

The six of you ate and drank and caught up for another hour before you stood up and stretched. Bucky stood up too. “You as tired as I am?”

“Yeah.” A great yawn overtook you. “I’m heading to bed. Goodnight guys.”

Bucky just followed you out of the room. Steve however was having a moment. ‘Should I go too? I should. I should say something to Tony. Say what? Fuck. Now it’ll look like I’m running after them.’

You stopped before you entered your room. Bucky practically bumped into your back. You called out. “Steve! Where’d you put my purple bag?! It’s got my toothbrush in it!”

“Let me show you!” Steve jumped up and jogged toward you. Around the corner, he found you smirking. He turned pink. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” You pushed up on your toes as he leaned forward to gently kiss your lips.

Bucky was already stretched out on your bed when you closed and locked the door. “These beds are way smaller than the one at the cabin.”

“That was a king size.” Steve commented. “Get your shoes off the bed.”

‘Mmm’ Bucky thought, ‘Nope, I want this pillow.’

You heard the double thunk-thuck of Bucky kicking off his shoes as you dug into one of your suitcases. Steve moved around in the bathroom and you heard him brushing his teeth. Suddenly the total normalcy of the moment hit you, the sense of complete domestic contentment.

Not so long ago the solitude of your suite was a sanctuary your defended vehemently. You’d always worn your independence like a badge of honor. Now, you felt more at home, happier, than ever before with Steve and Bucky filling up your space. They belonged here. Or you belonged wherever they were.

The immensity of it overtook you. You needed this. Needed them. You would never survive going back. They had you, completely. 

“Doll?” Bucky’s soft voice pulled your attention to him. “What’s wrong?”

Steve knelt beside you, the smell of mint on his breath. His thumb wiped a tear from the corner of your eye. “What is it?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just happy to be home, happy we’re together.”

Bucky’s arms wrapped around you and lifted you in the air. He fell back on the bed with a playful ‘ouff’. He wrapped around you. “Good. ‘Cause you’re not getting rid of us.”

You laughed. Steve climbed on the bed, his fingers finding your ticklish spots. His smile glowing at your peals of laughter. You wriggled, but Bucky held you tight. “Nope! You’re ours. No getting away.”

“Stop!” You squealed. “Okay. Okay. I’m yours!”

‘Damn straight, Doll.’

‘Love you so much.’

Steve relented, lying beside you with bright eyes. You pulled Bucky’s arm tighter around your middle and touched Steve’s face. “Never imagined anything this good. Not ever.”

“Me neither.” Bucky’s face nuzzled your hair.

Steve leaned into your shoulder. “Better that I ever thought possible.”

You yawned again. Steve sat up and Bucky pulled away. You whined.

“None of that.” Bucky chuckled. He tugged at your top. “Let’s get undressed and ready for bed.”

“Oh yeah?” You grinned.

Steve kissed your neck. “In the morning, Love. You’ve had a full day and we can see how exhausted you are.”

“But I’m…” a yawn broke through. “Okay, I am that tired.”

Bucky pulled your shirt over your head. “Like Stevie said, in the morning.”

‘We’ll make you scream so loud you wake the whole compound.’ Bucky smirked.

You fell asleep with your head on Steve’s chest, listening to his heart. Bucky’s left arm was draped over your body with his hand resting on Steve’s ribs, with his legs wound in yours. You couldn’t move, hot and pinned down. It felt like heaven.

TAGS:

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[cherrywoes]

— 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊.

— 𝓭𝓾𝓵𝓬𝓮 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓾𝓵𝓾𝓶.

"SO, WHAT DO YOU think?" Your friend's voice was drowned out by the music blasting from the speakers. Neon lights pulsed to the bass of Chase Atlantic's "Swim", a song that had been put into your playlist only recently. "Cool, right?"

You reached up and adjusted the neck of your shirt. "Yeah, a bit cold though—are all strip clubs like this?"

When you had accepted the job to make some extra cash to squeeze you through the last semester of college, it had been a no brainer. The Valeria was one of the most prominent clubs in Eden, frequented by both angels and demons alike, contrary to what your adopted parents had told you when you were nineteen. You lucked out with your best friend being the owner of the establishment.

"Yeah, the cold keeps people from getting sleepy and wanting to go home which, in turn, encourages them to spend more money." Kiyoko shrugged and you laughed at her nonchalant tone. "Anyway, the girls are rehearsing before the night starts. There's a fight club down the street and a lot of the fighters like to pop in when their adrenaline's high."

"I bet it doesn't hurt that some of them won cash," you joked lightly. "Devils or angels?"

"Both. Just keep an eye out for our regulars. Lev will point them out to you." Kiyoko pointed to the desk manager who, even from your distance, seemed to be a lanky giant. He waved when you looked over. "He's harmless. A bit tone deaf, but harmless. If you ever need help just go to him."

"Gotcha." You waved back tentatively and looked to the stage where girls were practicing and laughing. "So, do I go over there or…?"

Kiyoko shook her head and pointed to the bar. "No, I'm starting you off at the bar. You were a pretty good bartender from what I remember so you can do what you're familiar with."

Your relief was palpable. "Thanks, Kiyoko. I don't think dancing is what I'm good at anyway."

"You're welcome. Let me know if you want to back out, okay?" She crossed her arms. "A lot of the customers can be a bit… much."

"It's okay, I've dealt with rude customers before," you reassured her. "I'll just be making drinks right?"

"Yeah, but the uniform is pretty revealing. Just be careful."

Kiyoko wasn't lying. When she finally left you to get ready, you discovered the level of skimpiness with your own eyes.

It was, in a sense, just a plain black bikini with a crystal body harness for taste. That might not have been so bad if it hadn't been made deliberately a size too small and threatened to show your assets if you even breathed wrong. While the body harness was flattering to your curves, you couldn't help but be nervous by the amount of skin you were showing.

Paired with black strappy heels, you looked like you had stepped right out of a Maxim magazine. That was probably what Kiyoko had intended.

With a sigh, you exited the bathroom and headed towards the bar. Lev flagged you down before you could get there, though, and curious, you approached him, an unintentional sway in your step from the heels.

"Hey, [Name]! I'm Lev, nice to meet you." He offered his hand and you shook it, afraid to be seen as rude if you didn't. "Kiyoko forgot to give you your ID so I dug one out from the storage room. Don't lose it."

He handed you a lanyard with a plastic card on it. It was a generic identification card with nothing special about it, except your name taped to the top part on a sticker.

"Thanks." Lev smiled at you and you couldn't help but notice the peculiar color of his eyes and hair. "If it's okay to ask, Lev, are you…?"

"Human? Nope." He snickered at the look on your face. "Don't look so scared, it's fine. I'm a devil. Kiyoko recruited me when fighting didn't pan out for me."

"So that's common among your… kind?" This was all so new to you. You reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Lev tracked the movement idly, as if he couldn't help it. "Fighting, I mean."

"Yeah. Devils are notorious for their high tempers," he explained. "Fighting usually helps that. Or sex, but that's a personal preference. You might get propositioned a few times but that's normal."

"I see." You rubbed your elbows and rocked back on your heels. "Is there anything I should be worried about?"

"Not really. Just stay away from the Aoba Johsai devils if you can. They're pretty obvious and travel in a tight knit group. The only trustworthy person in it is Iwaizumi Hajime, I'd say, so you can serve him." Lev shrugged. "Though he's not coming in on your shift. There's a lot of fights going on tonight."

"Okay. Thanks, Lev."

"No problem."

Your first night as bartender went without a hitch, unless you counted the few guys who hit on you every chance they got. It wasn't rowdy, which you assumed was from the fights going on, and you managed to clock out with a decent paycheck and a tiredness that was seeping into your bones.

As you walked out the front doors, waving goodbye to Lev—he seemed nice enough, regardless, and you needed new friends in Eden now that you were taking online classes—you stepped out into what you could only guess was the line to the fight club.

It ran almost two blocks, people wearing unusual chic clothes to watch someone's face get beaten in. The line consisted primarily of girls, you noticed, and adjusted the straps of your gym bag on your shoulder.

You prepared to turn on your heel and head to your apartment in North Eden, where the humans lived, when something told you to turn around and check out the fight club. It wasn't as if you had anything to do at the moment, and your classes had been delayed for next week due to the school's security issues. You would be bored out of your mind at home, you knew, but you side eyed the line and the multiple people lining it.

Maybe not…

"You must be [Name]."

You jumped in fright when the doors opened behind you. Reflexively, you made a first, but when you saw the familiar face of the girl who had been on stage, you sighed in relief. "Sorry. I'm just jumpy."

"That's fine." She smiled to reveal perfect white teeth. Her hair made you sick with envy; long, auburn curls that dangled down to her hips in thick ringlets. "I'm Lulu. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself inside."

"No, no it's okay. You were practicing." You smiled in return. Then, you pointed to the line of people. "Are they always this long?"

"To Yulara?" Lulu inquired. "Yeah. The lines depend on the fighters. They have an elite lineup tonight. Why? Did you want to go?"

She took the sheepish expression that crawled over your face as an affirmative.

"Alright. Come on." Lulu linked her arm through yours and, with little difficulty, began skipping through the line. People parted like the dead sea for her and you were just dragged along for the ride. "I'll get you in. Consider it a welcome gift!"

"Are you sure we should be skipping these people?"

"Of course. We work at Valeria; we have VIP passes," Lulu replied cheerfully. At the front of the line was a bouncer dutifully checking people in and stamping their wrists with ultraviolet ink. "Hey, Aone! This is [Name]. She's new and wanted to see the fights."

You expected him to be suspicious of you. He was quite intimidating, eyes narrowed and his height did nothing but terrify you. Instead, with a quick movement, he marked your wrist and sent you inside.

Lulu grinned. "Thanks, Aone. I'll see you when I get home."

Bewildered, you glanced between her and the now blushing male, then back to Lulu. She shrugged and put a finger over her lips. You mimed zipping yours in response.

Lulu escorted you down a flight of stairs that led into a wide open room filled with people. In the center was a circle of wire and fence, keeping what looked like a pit closed off. You could only guess that's where there were people fighting.

"This is where I leave you." She patted your back. "Have fun! Don't drink the wine though, people always roofie it before the fights start."

"Oh. Okay." You smiled. "Thanks again."

"No problem." With a wave she retreated back up the stairs.

You took a deep breath and looked back towards the ring, your curiosity taking over. Clutching your gym bag, you began to pave your way through the crowd, unaware of the familiar face flashing across an LED screen over the door.

MASTERLIST.

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@dancing-in-the-rain54 • n/a

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[addicted2escapism]

Falling for You | JJ Maybank

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: JJ can’t go to jail again, in fear of his father’s wrath. You take the fall for him.

When two cops walked into The Wreck, eyes sweeping the building suspiciously, you knew something was wrong. None of the Pogues seemed to pay too much attention to the officers, except for JJ, who was sinking in his chair. You eyed him, noticing the way he turned his face away from the front entrance where the cops stood. Kie’s dad popped out from behind the counter to greet them, realizing that they weren’t just here to eat.

“JJ.” You spoke lowly, leaning back in your chair to put your body between him and the officer’s line of sight. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course!” JJ clears his throat, eyes flickering around to all of the possible exits. He anxiously adjusts his hat. The movement drew the attention of the Pogues, their conversation about what to do after they’d eaten was quickly forgotten.

“What’s wrong?” Kiara asks, looking around the restaurant to see what JJ was hiding from. When she spots her father conversing with the police, she frowns. “Please tell me those cops aren’t here for you.”

“Uhh, they might be?” JJ winces, unable to hold the other girl’s gaze. Pope’s expression grows increasingly more panicked, and John B looks like he’s concocting plans A through Z.

“Dude, what did you do?” Pope sighs, running a hand down his face. “If it’s not that bad then you just gotta take the fall, okay, because I can’t get involved with the cops!”

“Pope!” Kiara slaps his arm.

“No, no, I can’t get arrested man.” JJ shakes his head. “My dad will kill me.”

The cops nod, stepping away from Kiara’s dad to begin slowly strolling between tables, thoughtfully looking at each customer as they pass by. You discreetly put your arm around JJ’s shoulders and push his head down, trying anything to cover him up as much as possible. John B clears his throat and starts commenting on how well flavored the fries are. Kiara and Pope adamantly agree, jumping into conversation about the various flavors of their meals.

“Guys.” You hiss, squeezing JJ’s shoulder to an attempt in reassure him. He’s incredibly tense, and you subconsciously start massaging him. “They’re going to come over here. They know that we’re his friends.”

“Ok, you’re right, we just need to-“ John B rises from his chair, hurriedly pushing it politely back into the table. Pope says his name in warning, but when John B moves to turn towards the exit, he’s met with the cops beelining for your table. “Hey! Officers. Ah…”

“Hey, kids.” One officer greets, stopping just in front of the table with his hands on his hips. He’s fairly shorter than his partner, who was moving around to the other side of your table. Sandwiching you. His hard gaze falls upon the boy next to you. “Looking for your friend here.”

The taller officer’s hands clamp down atop the back of JJ’s metal chair, who abruptly stands and turns around, dislodging your arm that was around him. He’d been sitting quietly before, but now he was in defense mode, which meant uncontrollable talking. 

“Hey, guys! Wow, it is so good to see you, how you been, man?” The words are friendly and overexcited, and the stretched grin on JJ’s face is unnatural. He skirts away but the police officers step with him. The impending confrontation has you and the rest of the Pogues anxiously rising from your seats as well.

“Why are you guys looking for him, exactly?” Kiara inquires, scratching her head innocently. You hesitantly stand behind the officer closing in on JJ, unsure of if there was anything to do in this situation. John B looks like he’s ready to fight the second officer, but Pope grabs his arm before he gets himself arrested as well.  

“Theft.” The taller officer puts simply, snagging JJ by the wrist and twisting him around. JJ’s pushed against the table as his arms are cranked behind his back, and the officer latches handcuffs on him before he had a chance to fight him off.

“Theft of what?” You ask, stepping towards JJ, only to be held back by Pope. He shakes his head at you, expression screaming “don’t get involved”. Ignoring him, you push on. “What did he steal?”

“That’s none of your concern.” You’re brushed off without a second thought as the police lead JJ out of The Wreck, which had fallen silent in wake of the commotion. The eyes of the other patrons were glued to JJ as he was escorted from the building. You and the Pogues follow him out, but Kiara is stopped by her dad, who is spewing off something about how “this is what happens when you associate with lowlifes”.

The shorter officer makes deliberate attempts to block your view of JJ, but you consistently skip around his body as the cops move towards their cruiser. JJ’s head hung low, and his hat made it so you were unable to see his eyes or much of his expression. His mouth was pressed in a tight line, and his jaw kept clenching and unclenching as he walked. You noticed his hands were shaking behind his back.

“Theft of what?” You tried again, glaring at the shorter officer with determination. The taller cop that was handling JJ opens the backdoor of their cruiser. The man you were speaking to huffs, rolling his eyes with his hands on his belt. 

“He stole a power drill from his dad’s workplace, okay?” He admits, shaking his head at you. “Now go back to your lunch.”

“A power drill?” You confirm, glancing over your shoulder to see John B, Kiara, and Pope standing behind you, looking defeated. You look directly into the officer’s eyes. “It was me. Not him.”

You don’t even think about the words, or the consequences of them. JJ couldn’t get arrested again. You’d never been arrested before. 

“Are you crazy?” JJ chokes out, struggling against the officer that was forcing him into the back of the car. The other Pogues begin calling out to you, but you pay no attention to them. JJ couldn’t go to jail for something so simple. He couldn’t even get charged with a replacement fee without his father losing his temper. It could be you instead. The fine and any possible time probably wouldn’t even be that much. It was just a drill.

“Yeah, it was me. Don’t listen to him, I’m telling the truth. I convinced him to do it because he knew the place better than I did.” You sneak a glance at JJ’s pleading eyes. The cop had stopped shoving him into the backseat, and the one in front of you was shifting hesitantly. You hold your ground. “It was me.”

The shorter cop sighs, looking to his partner for advice, who shrugs. 

“If you say so, kid.” He retrieves his own set of handcuffs and fastens your arms behind your back, while the Pogues yell in protest. You watch as JJ is released and shoved back into his group of friends, looking overwhelmingly confused and concerned, but you saw the relief in his eyes as well.

It was worth it. 

The cops pushed you into the car and slammed the door, and you smiled reassuringly at your friends as they drove you away. 

- - - 

You got let off easy. You played the part of the apologetic poor kid, and the cops bought into it quite nicely. They gave you a monetary fine and a strict talking to about ruining your life. You took it in stride, and when they sent you back into the world, JJ was waiting for you. 

“Have you been standing there this whole time?” You tease, pulling the boy from his thoughts. He pushes off the side of the police station he’d been leaning on, rushing over to you and taking your hand. 

“Are you okay? Dude, your record-“

“Isn’t clean anymore, no. But it was worth it, JJ.” You squeeze his hand, wanting to console him. “And don’t you dare feel guilty. It was my choice.”

“Why did you do that for me?” He pulls you away from the doors and off to the side. He didn’t have his hat on anymore, and his hair was tousled, probably from worrying his hands through it so many times.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You reply. “You said yourself that you couldn’t get arrested again. I don’t like seeing you hurt, JJ. It was the right thing to do.”

“I know what I said, a-and I’m thankful, really. But you can’t do that again.” 

“Why not!?” You ask incredulously. 

“Because you can’t ruin your life for me!” 

You scoff and cross your arms in front of your chest.

“Funny, the cops just lectured me on something similar.”

“Then maybe they’re right!” JJ raises his voice, and in return your raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Wow, JJ, I am so sorry that I took the fall for you because I didn’t want you to get hurt! I am so sorry that I care about you! I guess next time, I’ll just stand around and-“ 

Your next words are smothered by his lips smashing against yours. A noise tears from the back of your throat in shock, but you manage to regain your senses and return the kiss. Your frustration deflated in an instant as you let yourself press against his warm chest.

When you pulled away, JJ was grinning like an idiot, an infectious smile that had you grinning as well. 

“Yeah,” You breathe out a disbelieving chuckle. “Taking the fall was well worth it.”

[whereflowersbloom]

Drunk on the idea of us

Raven was a light sleeper but she was surprised when she woke up in the middle of the night, hearing someone knocking on her room’s door. It couldn’t be an emergency, there’s no way she didn’t hear the alarm first. She slowly rose out of her bed, quietly pulled the door open to reveal, a very drunk Damian.

“You do realize it’s 3:15am and we both have training first thing in the morning.” She sighe trying to process what was happening. This was so unlike him. Whatever was going on it was something was obviously bothering him.

Standing in front of him arms crossed, she noticed how his eyes even if a bit unfocused, were studying every corner of her room until they fell back on her. They always found a way to make her feel exposed. His first words confused her even more.

“You’re so tiny.”

She wasn’t sure she should feel offended by his comment. But then it was her first time dealing with a drunk Damian Wayne. She was distracted by the mixed feelings coming from him when she felt him put his hands on her shoulders, as if trying to find balance. He leaned closer to her. She could feel the heat of his breath on her ears.

“You smell so nice. You always do.” His speech a bit slurred. Raven hid the blush on her cheeks and shock from his words, pressing her face against his chest. She couldn’t look at him. Control. She needed control over the situation. She swallowed , trying to ease the tightness in her chest and focus.

“Why are you really here, Damian? You don’t usually drink like this. You never do.”

He took a deep breath, the alcohol in some way insentisied her essence. He straightened himself up and looked at her. His hands went to her face but he said nothing. Her beauty intoxicated his senses, and he desired her.

Raven exhaled, identifying a feeling of disappointment? What was she expecting? “Maybe you need to rest for a bit, if you aren’t up for talking , huh?”

“I’m not that drunk, Raven. We do need to talk. I know you’re upset, even if you’re trying to hide it.” He said suddenly sounding very serious, for someone who is clearly drunk.

“I’m not upset. I’m simply surprised you’re here.” She shook her head. Realization hitting her. So he noticed.

“That’s not what I meant. Don’t lie to me. We don’t lie to each other.” He said raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Right.

His lie detection ability was inconvenient at times like this. Identifying even micro-expressions. There goes her cover.

“Alright, Boy wonder. Perhaps, I have noticed your secretive behavior lately. I know you and Jon are keeping something from me.” If it was honesty hour. She could use it to get some answers. “Don’t misunderdtand, I don’t mean to pry. I just thought we were...” her mouth hesitated, choosing the word carefully. “...close.”

She managed to sit on her bed, awaiting his response. it was finally out, off her chest or part of it. Somewhere along the way, becoming team mates first, then friends. Friends. It didn’t feel right, good enough to describe their bond. Not at this point anymore or in her heart.

“I was out with Jon, having a few drinks to gather courage. You’re partly right, something did change.” He whispered in the dark.

She heard footsteps coming towards her bed. Immediately, Damian was sitting next to her. “But don’t misunderstand. It isn’t what you’re thinking.” He shook his head and stroke her cheek tenderly. She hoped he was drunk enough not to notice the blush which was painted over her cheeks. Why did drunk people have to be so close when talking? If only he moved a few inches, to break the distance.

“Look, I know I’m not a very open person, specially when it comes to talking about my private life and sharing feelings. But this involves you now. I wasn’t entirely sure...how to handle it. So yes, I went to Jon for advice. I didn’t want Grayson gossiping my private affairs before...” he groaned in frustration. “What I’m trying to say is, I didn’t intend to keep secrets from you. Ever.”

He frowned suddenly, closing his eyes and letting out an annoyed sound. “Fuck. This isn’t coming out right. I knew I needed a plan. I’m messing it up.”

She blinked shocked by his words. Still trying to process his speech. Damian Wayne was sitting on her bed, evidently drunk, asked for advice, now talking about feelings involving her. Oh Azar. Does it mean he feels...? A spark of hope shinning. This wasn’t the same proud, snarky, insufferable kid who joined them years ago. He had changed, matured, she knew. But. Her damn insecurities. Could she trust his words and the meaning behind them in his current intoxicated state? When her pounding heart just wanted to scream ‘I’d take you in a heartbeat’.

She bit her lower lip, thinking what to say, anything that makes sense and let her take control over her emotions.

He opened his eyes, looked down at her face with a different expression. “Don’t do that.”

She was about to reply to his demand when his thumb moved to her lip, forcing her to stop biting her lip. “I can’t focus when you do that.” He whispered softly.

She swallowed a bit, and tried to regain some common sense. When did she start allowing him to touch her? When did this all start? That awkward moment at the Ferris wheel, when she recognized the loneliness in his eyes? She was the one who wasn’t drunk, so she had to think clearly.

“I know this is complicated. But you have to be honest Damian. I want to hear it in your own words. Why did you get drunk?” She asked softly. “I’m here and it’s just us.” She squeezed his big hand reassuringly, smiling.

Damian sighed, his whole body relaxed, feeling the warmth of her hand in his. “Because you’re my kryptonite in some way. Also, because of me and how much frustrating it is not to be able to do and say what I want to you, when I’m sober, analyzing, overthinking everything like a madman.”

“I feel this unbearable tiredness consuming me sometimes. Holding back all the damn time. I swear I want to give it all up, to hold you only for a couple of minutes.” His voice sounded drained. “Oh, teach me how I should forget to think.”

He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her gently against him, her head pressed to the warmth of his solid chest. Indeed, she was so tiny next to him. This felt so right and familiar. She wondered how long they would have this moment, if there was something that could make him give it all up, the stress, expectations, worries, just so he could take a breath for once and not think about anything. Have this moment together.

“I like being close to you.” He whispered like a secret in the darkness of her room. “Me too.” She also confessed, smiling softly.

There was a pause, their voices going silent before he spoke again. “ I wanted to kiss you.” He admitted with such raw honesty.

Her breathing quickens at his confession. He was still drunk, probably not in his sane self. She bit her lip hesitating but she wanted to ask. She needed to.

“When?” She breathed out into the dark.

“The first time? I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now. I suppose I finally accepted it, last New Years party. When West was buzzing around you like a fly. His ridiculous attempt to impress you almost made me lose my temper.” He growled lowly, with a bit of jealousy in his tone.

“Damian Wayne gets jealous. Who knew.” She giggled as the memories of that night popped in her mind. Damian looked like he was about to punch someone and Jon was busy getting his attention, convincing him to play a cards game. But even back then, there was only one name engraved upon her heart.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of that frisky speedster. He’s just another unavoidable irritation.” He said annoyed at the thought of the young speedster.

“Almost? And that’s why you almost break his leg the morning after, during training, right?” Raven smirked.

“It isn’t my fault he wasn’t fast enough to block my moves. They do say all’s fair in war and love.” He smiled proudly.

Her mind went back to his confession before. She shouldn’t ask now. She shouldn’t push it. She should wait until he was himself enough to talk about this properly. “Do you still want to-“

“Always.” He answered her question, no hesitation. He chuckles a bit quietly. “I always think about kissing you, and what would be like, before I persuade myself how much of a bad idea it would be. Whenever we are training, enjoying a cup of tea, when I catch myself looking at you longingly, every moment we spend alone. And then once again I think about how good it would feel, because how could it not, when I can’t seem to get you off my mind. Then I scare myself with how badly it could end and ruin us.” He sounded more coordinated now, he was being completely open with her. No filters or holding back anymore.

Why?

She opened her eyes. She knew why. Because it would change everything. Teammates, friends, lovers was taking another dangerous step.she battled with this every time she thought about the possibility of a future ‘us’. But she’d had enough of the potential outcomes and what-ifs.

“I want to kiss you, too.” It was easier to reveal it into the dark. “I would never leave you. Whatever happened or we ended up being. I wouldn’t leave you, Damian.” She said with more confidence she ever felt and realized she truly meant it. Whether they were only friends, broke up, because of one of the millionths of things that could go wrong. Raven liked him too much to let him go. She’d always stay.

He swallowed a bit. He leaned closer to her, he pressed his forehead against hers, still looking at her with tenderness. His vivid green eyes stared into her with passion and desire. He whispered into her ear softly “Stars, hide your fires, let not light see my black and deep desires.”

Oh. Shakespeare.

He cupped her pale face between his hands and ran a thumb over her lips. “Do you have any idea how insanely beautiful you are?” His touch felt like an electric current running through her body.

“Your violet-blue eyes are the night sky filled with shinning comets.” He said delighted in her beauty.

She should have pushed him away and told him to wait until he was sober. For a long time she didn’t think she deserved a love like this, the passion, the spark, but she wanted it. They both craved it tonight, needed each other like a drug.

She could only be a slave of her own heart and the existence of her love for him. She never had a choice in this, right? Who could resist Damian Wayne?

He whispered words in some unknown language but his eyes spoke clearly ‘You’re only mine.’

He pressed his lips against hers. The moment they touched it was like everything exploded inside her and around them. Raven couldn’t help buy completely melt against his broad chest.

His kiss was wild and heavy, and it caused her to get lost in the feeling of absolute bliss, as their hands run over each other bodies feverishly looking for new skin to touch, grip or pull.

She broke the kiss in need of air. “That was one hell of a first kiss. You should have warned me.” She managed to say her lips hurting a bit from the heated kiss.

Damian smirked “The warning was implied that all is fair game.”

“Oh. When?” She asked as she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“The moment you started biting those addictive lips of yours. Warned you, not to do it.” He looked the happiest she’s ever seen him since he joined them team.

They ended on her bed, lying there, wrapped completely around each other. Her cheeks were flushed, her full lips, had become swollen from their kiss. Damian tracing the curves of her body, slowly before speaking. “As much as I want to continue, I’d rather do this when I’m sober. When we’re both ready. I want to memorize every detail.”

“Does this mean it’s official. Us? We are telling the others about us.” She asked playfully.

“If that’s what you wish, beloved. We will let everyone know.” He said pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But don’t misunderstand, my love. After a customary period of proper courtship, I plan on asking you again. Officially introducing you to my family as my lover.”

“I know.” She said smiling. Thinking about it. Dick and Jon would have so much fun in the next couple of months. The Tower will be a mess. “We will think about it all tomorrow. For now we should sleep.”

Murmuring sleepily, she snuggled closer and Damian slid an arm around her waist. Enjoying the way her curves fitted against him. Their breathing slowed down and finally both dozed off.

***

[marshmallowprotection]

“I thought I’d find you out here.” 

“It’s not like there’s anywhere else you could look.”

She snorted at that response. It was about what she expected from him at this hour but it wasn’t like she thought that he was going to have a warm reply on his lips when she found him. 

Rather than comment, she took plopped down on the grass next to him with a soft thud and rolled over to face him. He didn’t bother to look in her direction from the sky.

However, Saeran did offer her his hand, as he normally would have done without hesitation. She interlocked her fingers with his. It felt like a while since the two of them had been out here together like this. Granted, it wasn’t like it used to be in the old days. 

A few months ago, the closest that the two of them might’ve gotten would have occurred whenever she sprawled across his lap and played with the frayed ends of his curls with a sigh as his fingers typed away on his keyboard. So much had changed, and yet, nothing had changed at the same time. 

“So,” Lila said, thoughtfully. “Is there anything that you want to talk about with me, Saeran?” 

A sigh dragged at his lips. “You’re not really good at coming out and saying what’s on your mind, you do know that, don’t you?” 

“Forgive me,” she returned with a huff. “I just don’t wanna come out and do that without checking if it’s okay with you first. I don’t want to assume that I know if it’s okay or not to ask you something. That would just... you know, that wouldn’t be very me of me.”

It would’ve been more in line with the mask that she bore in Mint Eye to survive the test of the strongest. That princess persona she played had been there to be a safety net to protect herself from the grief. Saeran understood that, she didn’t want to act bratty or entitled to him. 

“It’s... It’s just that lately...” 

“So, you met Ray, then.” 

Lila stiffened. Well, he had always been perceptive. There was no way he didn’t already know what was going on. She lifted her head and caught a glimpse of his mint eyes. They weren’t always easy to read but she’d known that he wasn’t upset. His expression was flat. 

There was the smallest further to his brow, though, as he looked over her face for a reaction. Her mouth felt a little dry. Ray had been coming out a bit more from the headspace ever since she spoke to him the first time and told him that she wanted him to be himself around her, but Saeran never acknowledged that.

At least, she wasn’t sure if Saeran wanted to talk about Ray, or if Ray had told him about it. She didn’t want to press. Ray had said that he had only been in and out whenever Saeran just... couldn’t deal. So, she never wanted to corner him about what was bothering him.

“He’s... really worried about you,” she said, carefully. “And, I’m worried about you, too.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time and it won’t be the last time,” was his response as he looked back at the sky. “It’s funny. Back then, I was always the one that was the first to lash out whenever someone got to Ray, even if I told myself that he was the weakest person... I didn’t want to hurt. Ugh, it’s hard to even talk about that, now.”

“You don’t have to tell me, Saeran.” 

“...”

Saeran sat up and looked down. His eyes followed the fabric of the shirt she was wearing until his eyes rested on where her shirt rode up on her abdomen. There was still the faded hint of the scar from the bullet on her body that would be this lasting reminder of everything he ever did wrong.  

“That’s the thing,” his voice was sharp. “I want... I want to tell you... about all of that shit. I wish that I could. Maybe I wouldn’t fucking overload every time I had to talk about it if it were easy. I’m used to being the strongest person that I know and now, now I can’t even fucking handle being myself so Ray has to come in and do it for me—”

His grip on her hand tightened impossibly. She ignored the stinging in her palm and sat up with him. She used her other hand to cup his cheek with a frown on her face. “Hey, hey... slow down. Saeran, remember, strength isn’t about how much shit you can handle. It’s about surviving and thriving beyond the pain that you were subjected to. You were abused, manipulated, and tricked for years, and that doesn’t make you weak. It just makes the people that used you the real monsters.” 

A bitter laugh hit his lips. It had been a while since she had heard that sound, as he had been so worn dry of his fight and vinegar long ago. But, it was still there inside of him. She could see that pain that she when she first met him in those mint eyes. 

“And, I know you know that. I don’t think you’re weak for being upset about what happened. I would be upset, too. You don’t have to force yourself to talk about everything all at once, Saeran. If you’re moving too fast, you can say that to your therapist,” she said. 

“And, Ray’s said himself that you were trying to hide this for a while before he woke up again. I don’t know how long you’ve been feeling way, but... please, let me be there when you feel this way. I don’t care how ugly or cruel you think you are when it hurts, I won’t leave your side.”

“You’re too much of a saint for your own good,” that mutter underneath his breath was a loaded statement. She had trusted him too much from the start and it got her hurt. Saeran couldn’t help but to think that she may wind up liking Ray a lot more than him. 

At least, Ray didn’t lose his temper and do what he did. God, that was a fear that he didn’t want to contend with. Saeran remembered to breathe. The tension left his shoulders, if only for a brief moment. Lila took that chance to wrap her arms around his shoulders and bury her face against his neck. 

It wasn’t easy. 

It wasn’t easy dealing with these moments where he wasn’t around as much or knowing that he would find himself in a daze after Ray frantically tried to keep all of his things together without knowing where any of the puzzle pieces were all meant to go. 

He never thought that he would struggle more with these episodes once he was off the elixir. But, they were becoming more common. He didn’t want to deal with it just as he didn’t want to come clean to her in the first place. Ray had spilled the can of worms on him by crying. 

No way Lila would ever ignore that. 

“I’m right here,” she murmured. “I’m always going to be here for you.”

“...” 

“And for Ray, and for anyone else that I’ve yet to meet,” she continued with a little laugh. “You don’t have to do this alone. Even if you just need to cry about it instead of talk about it, I’m right here. I made you a promise. I intend to keep it. You can’t get rid of me that easy.” 

“Oh, trust me, I tried,” he retorted. 

“How’s that working out for you?” 

“Well, I’m still holding my princess, aren’t I?” 

She knew it was okay when he wrapped his arms around her waist, “I suppose you are, huh? You know, Ray really had me going for a while. At least, he had me going until he corrected me when I was in the middle of trying to explain something about the bouquet that she was trying to make for her mom who isn’t feeling well lately. I misremembered one fact and he called me out for it. You’d never do that.”

“I would have corrected you,” he shook his head. “But, I’m guessing he was a lot more concise about it.” 

“Well, a fifteen minute discussion over the cultural communication that we’ve been raised differently upon told me enough, Honestly, I was impressed and mortified at the same time. I’m used to your dry sense of humor treating me to your grace,” she said. 

Saeran figured that she probably liked that. He was surprised at how easy that she was taking this information. She wasn’t bothered by the idea that someone could pop up and not know who she was, or that she wouldn’t know who they were. Well, Lila had always been rather odd. 

Still, she seemed to appreciate Ray and as much as he’d click his tongue about it, he did too. 

“Glad to see I’m your favorite.” 

[galvanizedfriend]

Fic: Speed Dating

KC Bingo 2020 by @klaroline-events

The prompt is: Losing a Bet

This is fluff inspired by an episode of House. I have no idea how successful this first endeavor into unknown territory was, but @itsnotacrimetoloveyou assured me it’s good and also confirmed that it is, indeed, fluff! Also, thank you for beta’ing this and for laughing at all the jokes! lol

I hope you guys enjoy it! :) Reblogs and comments are very much welcome!

______________________

There is something fundamentally wrong, Caroline thinks, in pitying the white, rich, genetically blessed art gallery owner she lives with. It feels like a waste of empathy. Klaus has the whole world at his feet. Wherever he goes, doors open, red carpets roll out, champagne bottles pop left and right. Which makes his brooding and scowling and antisocial behavior all the more inexplicable.

He isn't always like that, truth be told. When Caroline first moved in, Klaus was out and about all the time. Opening nights, exhibitions, soirées, premieres, parties - you name it. There were weeks when Caroline would barely see him. If he wasn’t at some event, then he was at the gallery, if not at the gallery, then locked up in his studio. As far as she knew, he was pretty much living the dream.

"He's never there," Rebekah said when she pitched the idea of rooming with her brother to Caroline. She used to share an apartment with Elena, but her friend had decided to take the next step with her dumbass of a boyfriend and since it was her name on the lease, Caroline was the one having to find a new place. Her money was short and so were her options. "Nik has this huge apartment all to himself and no one to really watch over it. All the plants I give him die within a week. He could use a roommate, honestly, and you'd be perfect."

"Is he looking for a roommate, though?"

"Not yet. He will be, when I tell him to."

"Rebekah -"

"Just come and see the place, ok? It's worth it."

It made no sense that a guy with his lifestyle and bank account would want to share an apartment with a complete stranger, and Caroline had the very strong feeling the idea never even so much as crossed his mind. Judging by the spirited spat she overheard between the two siblings while she waited outside, it was exactly the case. On her request, Rebekah went in first to talk to him; Caroline would only follow if he agreed to it. She didn't want to see the apartment of someone who wasn't looking for a roommate. She was about to sneak out through the stairs and pretend she'd never been there when Rebekah wrapped a hand around her arm and pulled her into the apartment. Before she could even manifest her exasperation, her snake of a friend walked out and locked the door behind her, leaving the two of them there to stare at one another in complete astonishment.

"I think we've been set up," she said, affecting an awkward smile.

"Rebekah has never learned the meaning boundaries, I'm afraid," he said, not nearly as fiery as he'd sounded a moment before while arguing with his sister.

"Look, this was not my idea, ok? I was just looking for a place, and Rebekah said — You know what, doesn't matter. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

Klaus looked at her — really looked at her — assessing her with such sharpness it stole the wind off her chest. Mikaelsons... they're an intense bunch.

"Since you're here," he said after a moment. "Can I offer you a drink for your trouble?"

He opened a bottle of wine that cost more than Caroline's previous rent and gestured for her to make herself comfortable on the giant leather couch in his living room. He wanted to know what she did for a living, how she knew his sister, why she was on the market for an apartment, what kind of place she had in mind, what her routine was like. It was all obvious questions you'd expect from a prospective roommate, but it never felt as though she was being interviewed. Conversation simply flowed, such an easy back-and-forth she didn't realize what was happening until it was hours later and Rebekah was back with a few shopping bags in her hands and a triumphant smile on her face.

"So, when do you move in?" she asked.

"Whenever she sees fit," Klaus replied, albeit glaring at his sister.

"Wait– what?" Caroline blinked, eyes cutting from one sibling to the other. "What do you mean?"

"A spoiled brat though my sister may be, she does have a point. This apartment could use another soul. If you feel so inclined, you can bring your things whenever it is convenient. The guest bedroom is furnished, but I can put it all in storage if you'd rather have your own set. There's also plenty of room for your personal things in the common areas, you can make it more to your liking. All I ask is that you don't replace the art on the walls. I rather fancy them."

Caroline's mouth moved wordlessly for a long time. "You... I thought you didn't want a roommate."

He shrugged nonchalantly, pouring himself another glass of wine. "I'm known to be rather volatile."

"But I can't — I mean, we didn't even discuss rent and expenses. I'm a med student, I can't afford this place."

"Nonsense. It's mine." Caroline drew the breath in for a righteous protest, and he added, "We can share the bills, if you insist."

And, well. It's not how Caroline likes to do business, way too sudden, with none of the meticulous in-depth analysis she usually applies to absolutely everything, from buying dish sets to choosing a new hairstyle. Moving in with someone she didn’t know at all seemed like way too big a deal for her to simply skip those vital steps. She didn't even compile her pros and cons list. But…

The neighborhood was fantastic, the type where she'd never afford to live in as a student, it was so conveniently close to school, and Elena was pestering the hell out of her to move out so Damon could move in. She'd been to four apartments already: two were incredibly dirty — which told her everything she needed to know about the people living there; another had a single bathroom shared between four people, and the last had a creepy guy across the hall. The floor to ceiling windows alone in Klaus' living room would've sold her the place, and paying next to nothing? It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. The conversation with him had been rather nice, if she was honest, and he was Rebekah's brother, so if anything went crazy, she knew exactly who to call.

For the first so many months, the Klaus-is-never-home story was very true. After a while he started inviting her to tag along to some of his events, which she did in a few occasions, especially after he learned she could not say no to puppy eyes. "These people will bore me to death, love, please, save me." Klaus can be such a dramatic baby. The parties were great and the vernissages fancy as hell, but she didn't complain. Going out with him was fun. They got along well, the booze was always A level and Klaus enjoyed taking his time to explain stuff to her. Living with him, she got to learn more about artistic movements than in all her life before. It's more interesting than she ever gave it credit. Or Klaus made it seem so, anyway. The accent kind of goes a long way.

What Caroline came to learn about him after a few months, however, was that not everything was rainbows and unicorns for Klaus as it seemed at first glance. Nothing threw him off quite like his family. He only ever spoke about Rebekah, the only sibling who lived closed by and stopped for visits, even more so than usual after Caroline moved in. She did overhear him on the phone with Elijah a few times, too. The other three, though, Freya, Finn and Kol, Caroline only knew about through Rebekah.

"Nik doesn't get along with our siblings," Rebekah told her when she asked why he never spoke of the rest of the family. "I don't blame him. I don't know what mother nature was thinking when it gathered us all under the same genetic code, we're far too screwed up to be all in the same Thanksgiving dinner."

That was an understatement, in Caroline's opinion. Whenever Klaus went back to England to visit his parents and the rest of his siblings —- something he avoided like the plague but was apparently forced to do — he came back sullen and with a temper from hell. His sour moods could last for weeks. He'd stay locked up in his bedroom or at the studio for days on end, making Caroline slightly guilty for thinking she was the thing keeping him from circulating around his own place.

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped at her once when she suggested she could move out if he'd changed his mind. "If you move out, I will hunt you down and drag you back here."

It was perhaps slightly too aggressive an answer to be sweet, but Caroline gathers that was Klaus' way of saying he didn't want her to go.

She stayed and learned how to navigate the storms caused by his occasional family reunions. Let him do his thing, don't ask about his parents, offer him food from time to time. They make do. But it still bothers her to no end. Like right now.

It's been a month since he came back from London, more upset than necessarily angry, and he has barely set foot out of the apartment. He stays in his sweatpants and ink-stained Marc Jacobs shirts all day, wavering between having too much coffee and too much whiskey. He hasn't even been painting, which points to an all-time low.

When she walks out of her room all dressed up, putting on her earrings, he's sitting in front of the television, flipping through channels nonstop. His eyes are so unfocused she doubts he even knows what he's doing, his finger just pressing the button mindlessly.

Caroline checks her wristwatch and sighs. Bonnie is gonna be furious if she's late, but Klaus sitting on his ass like that is a waste of a perfectly fine eligible bachelor.

"What are you doing tonight?" she asks.

"Watching a movie," he says flatly after a moment, the information that he'd been spoken to taking a second to register in his brain.

"You mean porn."

He turns his face to her, eyebrows lazily arched. "If you want specifics. I'd ask you to join me, but people are already talking."

She gives him a look and then bends forward, fixing the straps of her high-heeled sandals. "Don't you get tired?"

"Who gets tired of porn?"

"Of watching porn?" He just shrugs. "Men," she puffs out with an eye roll. "Come out with me tonight. I'm going speed dating."

"That's so very boomer of you. It reeks of despair."

"It's old school, so what?" she counters, checking herself out on the antique floor length mirror. She turns to one side, then the other, tosses her hair back. "Is this cleavage too slutty? I don't want to look too slutty."

"What are you aiming for? Moderately promiscuous?"

She turns to him. "I want to say hot but with class, not I have nicknames for my boobs."

He snorts. "You look stunning, sweetheart," he says, his eyes lingering perhaps a bit too long on her décolletage.

"Thanks," she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest, suddenly self-conscious. "Back to the subject."

He sighs, turning back to the television. "Haven't they invented an app for that?"

"I'm tired of apps. It's cold, photos are almost never consistent with the truth and when you ask for a real-time one, all you get is dick pics."

"I hate to disappoint, but you're fooling yourself if you think men won't lie to your face, too."

"You can't blame me for wanting to stay hopeful that men aren't all as cynical as you. I'd have to give up sex forever if I thought that."

Klaus' lips quirk into a lopsided grin. "Well, I wish you good luck on your endeavor."

"I think you need to meet somebody, too," she insists. "You're turning into a couch potato, Klaus."

"I refute that."

"When was the last time you had a date?"

"I don't do dates."

Caroline rolls her eyes again. She has never seen him with the same girl twice, and very few have actually made it to his apartment. Mostly, he's the one who spends the night, not the other way around. He laughed at her face when she tried to tell him he didn't have to worry about bringing friends over on her account. "That's sweet, love, but I don't bring people over unless I have no other option."

"Why not?"

"Because when they know where I live it's harder to get rid of them. Besides, it's such a bore when they decide not to leave in the morning. Women can be rather spiteful."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You are so full of crap. Typical. Sweet-talk women into sleeping with you and then call them crazy when they expect a minimum of respect in return."

"I respect them fine; I just don't want to have breakfast."

"Because that is such a commitment."

"It's far more than I'm willing to commit, yes."

"We have breakfast all the time. What, am I special?"

He simply smiled, the annoying dimples he uses to lure women into bed cutting into his cheeks.

"Fine," she says, stomping her foot. "Your last one-night stand?"

"Should I be flattered you're keeping such close tabs on my life?"

"See? You're becoming this insufferable creature that I can barely tolerate that answers everything with sarcasm. Soon enough, I'm gonna have to move out and I don't want to because I like this apartment."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Come out with me. This way you get to meet twenty somebodies at once."

"Is that why you're going?"

"Last two dates I had were exclusive two hours of complete disaster I will never get back. At least this way I speed up the process of elimination."

"Over five-minute conversations," he derides.

"Five minutes is more than enough time. If they can't impress me or at the very least make me intrigued, then they're definitely not worth a second date."

"You make it sound oh-so-alluring. Like a meat market."

"Klaus," she says, slowly, planting herself between him and the random Discovery Channel show on the TV. "It's dozens of women literally just waiting to be hit on. Your odds at a happy ending are much better than if stay home and watch porn."

He regards for a beat and then sighs in defeat. "How can I say no when you make me out to be a wanker if I refute your argument?"

 x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 "You brought a date?!" Bonnie cries out with indignation when Caroline arrives at the bar with Klaus on tow.

She considered giving her friend a heads up that he'd be tagging along, but she knows what Bonnie would say. She has been saying it for a while, any opportunity she gets. Just make a move already, Caroline! Fuck the guy's brains out and get over it or stop talking about Klaus all the goddamn time.

The fact she's brought him out to meet other people should probably tell Bonnie that she does not want to bang her roommate. Not that she wouldn't, because Klaus is obviously, you know... Alluring. Annoying, sure, prone to mood swings, but also witty and smart and refined and incredibly attentive when it comes to her, not to mention the whole exterior package thing. But they live together, she's friends with his sister, and it would be a totally stupid idea to ruin it with casual sex. Caroline sweeps the whole tension under the rug and keeps Klaus firmly on the realm of healthy, platonic friendship. But Bonnie would've found a way to claim otherwise if she'd said he was coming.

"He's not a date," she counters. "He's a dater."

Bonnie gives Klaus a pointed look. "Blink once if you were coerced into being here."

Klaus makes an effort of blinking, and Caroline gapes in protest. "I did not coerce you. Our couch has a permanent imprint of Klaus' ass. He needed to dive back into the pool. I'm just being helpful."

"I'm here for the drinks, mostly," he offers.

"Well, you just ruined these poor men's lives," Bonnie says, bobbing her head towards the line of guys standing around them, waiting for the thing to start.

She hadn't really noticed, but they're all staring at them. Not at her, or at Bonnie, but at Klaus, with looks that go from mildly concerned to openly hostile.

"Tough luck," she says with a light shrug. "Look on the bright side. They're gonna be forced to bring out their A game."

"Ahh," Bonnie says, smiling at last. "I see your plan now. That’s actually smart."

"What the bloody hell are you two babbling about?" Klaus asks.

Caroline cocks him a disbelieved eyebrow. "Seriously? You can't tell?"

"Look around, Klaus," Bonnie says. "All the girls are checking you out."

"Not uncommon," he replies matter-of-factly.

"And the guys are shooting daggers at you," Caroline adds.

He purses his lips. "Also not uncommon."

"Exactly. This is competition."

"It's not a beauty pageant, love."

"Life is a beauty pageant," she retorts solemnly.

"Let's put it this way," Bonnie cuts in. "Little girls who kiss frogs expect them to turn into you."

Klaus puffs out a laugh. "Why, thank you, Bonnie, for the rather flattering image. But I don't think I'm that good looking."

"Now you're just playing dumb, which is not sexy, by the way."

He turns to Caroline, cocking his eyebrows in doubt. "Yes, you are, Klaus." A sly smirk breaks onto his lips, and she realizes he'd just set her up into singing his praise. Before he can follow up with a snarky and probably inappropriate remark, she slaps his arm lightly. "Oh, shut up."

"I bet you'll walk out of here with everyone's phone numbers," Bonnie says.

"Except for ours, of course," Caroline adds.

"Why not yours?" he asks, somewhat offended.

"You already have my number."

"Not in this context."

"Yes, because I already know you and all the nasty little bits of your personality. These women, on the other hand, don't."

"So you're attributing every relationship I've ever had to my looks?"

"I thought you didn't do relationships."

"Not normally."

"Well, not the whole relationship," she muses. "Just the beginning."

"The rest are the dimples," Bonnie remarks with a serious nod.

Klaus shakes his head despondently. "And here I was thinking women aren't as vain as men."

Caroline turns to him, putting her hand out. "Wanna bet? You can't tell anyone you're a trust fund kid who runs an art gallery. You're unemployed. Don't pay attention to everything they say, pretend to be distracted. And lose the accent. One hundred bucks says you walk out of here with at least… Twenty names. And I'm being conservative."

Klaus narrows his eyes at her. "You brought me out here to get laid and now you want me to jeopardize my chances?"

"On the contraire. I'm saying you can make yourself out to be as interested as you really are, and still get laid."

He finally takes her hand on a firm shake. "You're on."

A gong rings and they all turn to see a woman with a bright smile beckoning them all to approach. "Ladies and gentlemen," she starts. "The fun is about to start. Ladies, please, take your seats. There's a table for each of you. When I strike this gong, each man should sit at the first table they've been assigned to. When I strike it again, date's over, move on to the next."

"Wish me good luck, then," Klaus tells her as they turn around to order a drink from the bar before moving to their respective spots.

"You won't need it, buddy."

 x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 "Hello, sweetheart," Klaus says pleasantly as he slides into the seat across from her.

Caroline lets out a weary exhale. "Hi, number..." she reads the tag on his chest. "26. What do you prefer, a weekend on the mountains or long walks on the beach?"

"Mountain, easy. Too much sand on the beach, it gets in all sorts of awkward places."

Caroline snorts into her martini. "That's actually the best answer I've had to this question so far. Or to any question, really." She raises her glass on a toast. "How's it going?"

He purses his lips. "I've had to answer that question unironically more than once, so I'd say not stellar."

"I'm sorry," she says around a chuckle.

"You don't look sorry."

"Because I'm not, really. It would be unfair for me to suffer alone. Seen anyone you like, at least?"

The smile on his face turns mysterious. "There's one so far."

"Just one?"

"It's hard to speed date when you're pretending to be slow, uninteresting and American, to be honest."

"You could just tell them the truth. That you were dragged here by a friend who took pity on you sitting around, watching porn all day. That would sure scare some of them away. Although some would probably ask what kind of porn."

"What about you?"

"I don't want to know what kind of porn you watch."

He rolls her eyes at her. "I mean, how's your night going?"

"Oh, you know," she shrugs with a lot less enthusiasm than she'd expected to have by this point in the evening. "A couple of contenders, I guess."

"Oh?"

"Still early."

"Forgive me for pointing it out, but you don't seem particularly excited."

She puffs out in frustration. "Every time I tell them I'm a Med student, they ask what kind of doctor I want to be, and when I say oncologist, they start listing every member of their family who's ever died of cancer. What am I supposed to say after a guy tells me his mother died of breast cancer? I'm sorry, would you like to talk about it?" Caroline glares when he erupts into laughter. "Not funny."

"I'm sorry, it's just that sounds like an awfully interesting conversation."

"Why is dating so hard? Am I too picky? Is it wanting a meet-cute too much? To wake up one day and ta-dam, the guy is there, right in front of me."

Something about Klaus' eyes soften just then. "If only it were that easy," he says, an almost wistful tone to his voice that gives Caroline pause.

Before she can dwell on it further, however, the gong sounds and it's time to move on.

"Here I go, then," he says in his American accent.

When her next prospect sits down, she's laughing at Klaus greeting the woman on the next table with a Hey, babe.

 x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 "Here's to making the 1% 100 dollars poorer," Caroline says, raising her shot in the air before knocking it back.

"Cheers, I suppose," Klaus says dully, sipping from his bourbon.

"Oh, come on!" She bumps her shoulder against his as they sit side by side by the bar. "Don't look so gloomy. That's literally a pile of women in front of you," she says, nodding her head towards the cards sitting on the counter. "How many again?"

"Twenty nine," he grumbles.

"Twenty nine out of 40! That's more phone numbers than most guys will get in a year. Be proud."

"Of my deep cobalt eyes or my sultry lips? Yes, I heard both tonight."

Now it's Caroline's turn to explode into laughter while he just shakes his head helplessly.

"You don't have to be ashamed of your genetics, Klaus," she says. "It's not your fault some women are awkward flirters."

"Tell that to my stepfather." His tone visibly changes as he mentions Mikael, the dark clouds coming back to hover above his head.

Before it can get any worse, Caroline prods on. "So. How many of them are you going to call?"

"None."

"None?!" she gapes. "That's at least a month of guaranteed sex. A month where you won't have to watch porn, you can actually perform porn."

"Alright, you're making me sound like a deranged pervert," he objects. "I do not watch that much porn. That was one time and it is not my fault you lack proper etiquette when walking into someone else's bedroom."

Caroline chuckles. She did walk in without knocking, but, in her defense, it was 3 o'clock. What kind of person watches porn in the middle of the afternoon? She was blushing furiously for weeks before she decided to start teasing him instead as a way to diffuse the guilt. Luckily, he hadn't actually been doing... Anything. Although she did notice the suspicious volume in his pants. It was... Interesting.

"It's nice to make fun of you, though," she says. "That was the closest to a blush I've ever seen on your face."

"Whatever makes you happy, love."

"Seriously, though. Why are you not calling any of them?"

"These women think I'm one step away from being a caveman. It says more about them than it says about me that they're willing to give me their phone numbers."

She scoffs. "Don't be such a snob. They came here to get laid, too. You can't tell me you didn't like any of them."

"Well, there was one. But she didn't slip me her phone number."

Caroline' eyebrows crinkle together. "Really? That's kinda hard to believe."

"I guess your theory was flawed, after all."

"But it has been proved nonetheless. Which reminds me..." She lifts a hand, asking for another round. "I'm gonna drink all your money."

"My whole life has been a lie," Klaus says contemplatively. "I thought I had an enthralling personality, an interesting aura, that my wittiness made me charming, and now I find out I'm nothing but a pretty face."

"To be honest, you're also an endless pit of money." Klaus gives her a side eye, knocking back his drink. Caroline scrunches up her face in mock-pity. "Oh, boo-hoo. It's so hard to be handsome. Why are you so upset about that?"

"It's different when that is all you are. I've been deluding myself."

"Who said that's all you are?" Klaus turns to her with a pointed look. "No, that's not what I said. I said women would want to date you after five minutes because you're pretty, not that pretty is all you are." When he sighs, asking for another drink, still obviously unconvinced, she continues. "Look. My first real boyfriend was a total douchebag. He came across as funny and charming and thoughtful, but it was an act. He saw something he wanted and he knew he had to act a certain way to get it, because even at 17, I liked to think I had standards, even though I clearly didn't."

"Are you saying I'm also manipulative?"

"I'm saying, figuring out who people really are takes time. It takes twice as long if they're trying to impress you. You can take from this that all your relationships have been superficial and physical only, or you can believe that people came for the appeal and stayed for the content."

"Except no one has stayed. My temper seems to have a rather short expiration date, it drives people away. Just ask my brother." He punctuates his sentence with a wan smile, and Caroline understands, at last, that this is all somehow related to his family again.

She suddenly finds herself desperately at loss for what to say. Rebekah would offer something outrageous and mildly offensive that would still hit the nail on the head. Caroline just wanted him to have some fun, but instead she ended up pushing him right back to his bad place.

She considers apologizing, saying it was just teasing and she never really meant it, but what she winds up saying, however, is, "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Klaus looks up at her, a mix of surprise and something else she can't identify flickering through his eyes.

"Is that how you rationalize your relationships?" he asks.

She huffs out a little laugh. "I don't think that highly of myself. I'm a tall, long-legged blonde. That ticks some boxes, but it hardly makes me irresistible."

"I beg to differ, love. You're an exquisite beauty."

Caroline laughs a little, thinking he's obviously saying that just to be nice, but then she catches the look in his eyes, that intensity that always seems to rattle something deep inside of her. There's not a hint of condescension about him.

"I... Well..." she stammers, her cheeks burning hot. "Thank you."

"But that's not all you are. You're also strong, fierce, full of light. Anyone who fails to see what's underneath your stunning exterior is a fool." Caroline freezes under his stare, something almost reverent in the way he says it, a spark lighting up his face for maybe the first time in a month. It sends Caroline's pulse racing. She's suddenly very much aware of how close they are, the air around them simmering with energy, releasing a fresh batch of butterflies in her stomach. The room is a dozen degrees hotter than a second before, and Caroline doesn't know what to do, what not to do, thinks maybe she's had enough to drink already because her sense of reason is getting all fuzzy.

And then Klaus says, "I heard that on PornTube," and the tension eases off of her as the two of them crack up laughing together.

[negans-wifeyy]

The Babysitter

Summary: Jeffrey Dean Morgan gets down and dirty with his babysitter. 

Pairing: Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader

Warning: Heavy smut, major negan vibes

Tags: Seduction, angry sex, older man/younger woman (the reader is 18 and in high school), mdom, sub!reader, teasing, oral sex(woman receiving), unprotected sex(oups), etc.

Word Count: 2398

A/N: The premise of this story was heavily inspired by an audio from the subreddit gonewildaudio. I’ll put the link in the comments since tumblr won’t allow me to publish anything with a NSFW link in it. If you haven’t discovered GWA yet, you’re welcome. Also, the story involves Hilary Burton portrayed as a shitty wife but it’s nothing against her or her actual marriage to JDM. I just needed to include her in it for the story to make sense. 

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Ever since you were little girl, you’ve lived next door to the Morgans who were known in your neighbourhood like the white picket fence family. Last year, much to everyone’s surprise, Mrs. Morgan separated from her husband, Jeffrey, and even move out of their house. Now that they shared custody of their two boys, you’ve become Mr. Morgan’s trustworthy babysitter on days where he was working late. Three times a week, you’d babysit his kids after high school. You went to a private school at the other end of town but you always made sure to arrive at his house on time to welcome the kids home. Their mother would always pick them up from kindergarten and dropped them off for you to watch them over the evening. Often times, you’d rush out of your last class without even having time to change from your uniform just to be punctual. Today was one of those times, except that it was now an hour past the hour that Mrs. Morgan would usually arrive with her children. She was very much late and you tried to call her multiple times, but got no answer. Concerned, you reached her husband to let him know about the situation.

"Hello?" Jeffrey answered over the sound of a loud car horn.

"Hi, Mr.Morgan" You said. "This is Y/N. Are you driving?”

“Oh hi Y/N, I am driving but you can talk if there’s an emergency."

"The boys aren’t home yet and I arrived about an hour ago. I called your wife on her cellphone several times but only got her voicemail" You informed him.

"That bitch" He muttered under his breath. "Listen, my phone is about to die but I left work early today so I’m on my way home now. I’ll be there in a few.”

“Alright see you soon” You said before hanging up.

Not even a couple minutes later, your very enraged neighbour storm in his house while you were waiting for him in the living room. He directly went to grab the home phone and furiously dialled his wife’s number. You were sitting on the couch and watched as he stood next to the kitchen counter angrier than you’ve seen him before.

"Hello Hilary?? Where the fuck are you?!" He shouted at her. You couldn’t pick up what she was saying back but you listened closely to the entire conversation. "The babysitter’s been waiting for you to drop off the kids since 4! [... ] We had a fucking deal, Wednesday to Friday, Y/N watches them until I get off of work! [...] Oh, so now you have a problem with our agreement?![...] This was your idea! This is all on you! You decided to move out after the divorce and take our children with you! I want to see my kids! [...] Of course I’m getting mad. You— Hilary? Hilary?? Hilary??!"

Jeffrey threw the phone on the floor breaking it into pieces. His face was all red and a vein popped up from his forehead from being so angry. You stood up a bit shaken by his actions and didn’t know whether to stay and calm him down or leave to let him cool off.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out like that" He apologized in a calmer tone."It’s just been hell lately trying to co-parent with Hilary. She wants to get full custody of the kids and is trying to make me look bad for leaving them with you during my nights that I’m supposed to spend with them."

"No need to apologize, I’m more sorry to hear about it. Are the kids ok?” You asked.

“Yeah, they’re fine. They’re with their mom and aren’t really aware of the drama”

“That’s good. And are you ok Mr.Morgan?”

“I have to be. But deep down though, I’m boiling inside and I just can’t believe she would do that! " He rose his voice yet again.

"She'll come around I’m sure about it." You tried to reassure him so he wouldn’t lose his temper again.

"No she won’t! That bitch is depriving me from seeing my boys and I bet her manipulative ass is gonna get away with it. I can’t believe I’m even getting mad right now! That’s exactly what she fucking wants!!" He vented to you letting out all of his repressed emotions. But, he wasn’t done yet. From the rage written all over his face, he was on the verge of really blowing up. "God I’m so... I’m so fucking pant up right now!!! I just.. I just need to pin someone down and fuck them hard until they come on my cock!!"

That was really unexpected. You were so stunned by the profanity of his statement that you stood in place wide-eyed, swallowing a huge lump in your throat. Any other person would be shocked by the obscene language that Jeffrey used but for you, it’s was surprisingly turning you on.

"I’m so sorry again, I can’t believe I said that out loud.” He said almost out of breath from yelling so much. “I hope I didn’t scare you?”

"Euh.. no. It’s ok don’t worry” You said as you cleared your throat.

"It’s just been so long ever since the divorce that I’ve... you know, done it. Our marriage was built on makeup sex from always fighting, so every time I get angry now, I can’t help getting aroused. And umm..." He declared before stopping briefly to walked around the counter and come closer to you. You were so nervous the more he closed the distance between you two. "It surely doesn’t help, when a young, attractive woman like you is dressed up in her cute schoolgirl uniform, calls me Mr.Morgan with an innocent voice and looks up at me with her dewy eyes."

He was now standing in front of you so closely and eyed you up and down like he desired you more than anything in the world. You could feel your heart pumping through your chest and your palms were sweating from the sexual tension building up. Plus, he was looking really handsome with the business suit he was wearing which turned you on even more. You’ve always been attracted to your neighbour but feared that your major age gap would be an issue for him. From the way you both stared deeply into each other’s eyes with lust and desire, you knew now that it wasn’t an issue at all. He moved his hand to your face, palming it and thumbing your bottom lip.

"You are so fucking gorgeous" Jeffrey said to you and all of the sudden, his lips crashed onto yours. He kissed you so passionately as he grabbed the back of your neck with one hand and cupped your ass with the other. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this"

"Me too. " You said with your hands laying on his chest. His heart was also beating really fast.

"You know, I’m 100% sure that my attraction to you is the reason why Hilary doesn’t want you babysitting the kids. She would always get jealous of the way I looked at you when you’d come over." He lowered his head to your neck to give it gentle kisses and continued to talk in between them. “I’ve always fantasized about having you and right now, I want you more than anything.”

The way he talked while sucking at all your sensitive spots, you couldn’t help yourself but moan gently. Jeffrey moved up to your earlobe to nibble it with his mouth.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” He whispered into your ear with his raspy and dominant voice. “You’re gonna lay down on the couch and I’m going to lick your cunt until you cum all over my tongue. After that, I’m going to fuck you hard and fill you up with my cum. Are we understood?"

"Yes Mr.Morgan” You said to him, which made him smirk slightly in satisfaction.

"Good girl" He told you as he sat down on the couch. "I want you to take off all your clothes first. Slowly. "

You did as you were told by starting to unbutton your blouse. Jeffrey was eyeing your every move and he let his hand wander down to his dick that was rock hard through his pants. Then, you got rid of your skirt, leaving you in your bra and panties. Normally, you would have been really insecure stripping down in front of someone. But, by the way Jeffrey was touching himself and looking at you like you were the sexiest thing ever, you felt really comfortable. As soon as you took your bra down, he motioned to you with his finger to come closer.

"Sit on my lap baby girl" He demanded to you and you followed his order. "Now grind on it”

You whined your hips back and forth on his thigh and Jeffrey took advantage of your proximity to massage your breasts and take your nipples in his mouth. He nibbled and tugged on them which made you even more excited and grind on him faster. The friction on your clit was getting you closer to your climax.

"That’s it Y/N. Keep grinding your pretty little pussy on my thigh. I want you dripping from your wetness.”

“Oh god! I’m gonna cum!” You cried out as you almost reached orgasm.

“No, you’re not.” He spat at you and took you off of his lap. He pinned you down on your back and laid on top of you. His eyes were filled with rage and his hand was now wrapped around your neck. "You don’t get to cum until I tell you to. Do you understand?"

"Yes”. You responded softly.

“Yes who?” He demanded and squeeze his hand on your neck, choking you gently.

"Yes Mr.Morgan.” You managed to say out of breath.

“Good girl. Now let’s see how wet you are for me” He slid down the couch and spread your legs to settle in between them. Jeffrey cupped you sex over your panties to feel your wetness. “Wow, you are dripping. Am I making you this wet?”

“Ye-Yess Mr.Morgan." You breathed out heavily as he started to rub you slowly. You rocked your hips forward following the motion of his hand.

"Don’t get too eager now baby girl, I haven’t even tasted you yet.” Jeffrey stopped rubbing you to take your panties off. He kissed down your leg slowly and when his mouth got in front of your sex, your whole body squirmed in anticipation. But he wanted to keep teasing you and kissed your inner thighs instead. When he saw that you were getting more and more excited, he licked up the length of your slit before sucking gently on your throbbing clit. You arched your back in pleasure and Jeffrey stared up at you being completely intoxicated by his oral skills. As if eating you out wasn’t enough, he pushed two fingers inside of you without warning and curled them upward to rub against your g-spot.

“Oh fuck it feels so good!!” You gasped. "Keep going!”

You grabbed both the side of the couch and Jeffrey’s hair for balance. He devoured and finger fucked you more rapidly without breaking eye contact with you. You were on the verge of cumming but remembered that you weren’t allowed unless he told you to.

"Do you need to come baby girl?” He asked you.

“Yess!” You whined out desperate.

“Beg for it.” He demanded

“Pleeeease Mr.Morgan can I come?!” You pleaded.

"Come for me right now, all over my mouth and my fingers."

"Fuckk yesss!!! You screamed out loudly and your entire body convulsed from the intensity of your orgasm. As you were coming down from it, breathless, Jeffrey moved up to kiss you so you could taste yourself. His entire mouth and beard were drenched with your cum.

“I need to fuck you right now. I need to feel that tight little cunt clench around my cock. Are you ready baby?” Jeffrey declared to you. You nodded in response and reached down to unbuckle his belt. You grabbed his dick inside his briefs and stroke it gently.

"You are so big Mr.Morgan, I wonder if I could fit you all in my mouth” You told him amazed by his size. His lips were parted and he moaned softly from your touch and your dirty talk.

"Fuck. That would feel so good” He suddenly stopped your actions and grabbed both your hands to pin them on top of your head. “But you’ll get to suck my cock another time. Right now I need to be inside of you really badly.”

Jeffrey took his member in his hand and teased the tip up and down on your entrance before penetrating fully. You took every inch of his massive cock without any time to adjust as he rammed inside of you faster and faster. His rough strokes in your cunt were hitting all the right spots and you moaned louder than you’ve ever moaned before with any other men.

"Oh fuck yesss!! Don’t stop!" You screamed.

"Your pussy is so tight around my cock! Fuck!" He grunted ou loudly. He put his hand around your neck again to choke you as you were gasping for air. "Beg for my cum!" 

"Please!! I-I want you- oh fuck!" You tried to beg but failed due to the amazing sensations and Jeffrey’s hand around your throat.

"I said: beg for my cum!" He commanded you.

"C-Can you please cum inside of me while I come around your dick Mr.Morgan?!"

“Cum right now!”

Your body twitched, your toes curled and your eyes rolled back as you came harder than before. It felt like an out of body experience and not a few seconds later, Jeffrey came too.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming!! Take my load deep in your tight cuuunnt!!" He moaned and filled your pussy with his cum.

He let go of your hands and neck and before he collapsed on top of you, you kissed him yet again still aching for more.

“That was amazing Y/N” He told you with a grin so wide, you could see his dimples form. “Why don’t you join me in my bedroom for the night? I am not quite with you baby girl."

"Yes Mr.Morgan." You eagerly responded and returned his grin with a cheeky smile.

[skeeter-110]

A Twist in the Tale (That’s Old as Time)

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. As punishment for his actions, the young prince is transformed into a monstrous beast by a mysterious enchantress. Only condition is if he can learn to love someone and earn their love in return, the curse will be lifted. The prince - now turned Beast - felt doomed for eternity; until he met a little boy with a heart of gold.

AKA: a Beauty and the Beast Irondad AU

Read on AO3

|| Chapter One || || Chapter Two ||

Chapter Three: Dinnertime Disaster

Peter's sob-fest was quickly interrupted a few minutes later by knocking on the door. Peter only stopped crying long enough to sniffle and wipe some of the tears off of his face.

"Who is it?" Peter quietly asks, his voice sounding rough from all of the crying he's been doing.

"Mrs. Potts, dear." A female voice responds making Peter wipe his face a bit more and run to open the door. "I thought you might like a spot of tea." The voice says again, Peter opening the door only to be pushed back by a teapot, and a couple of tea and sugar cups hopping into the room.

"But you're... you're a..." Peter tries to stammer out through his shock, only succeeding in backing up into a wardrobe.

"Oh! Careful." The wardrobe warns, Peter spinning around as soon as he heard the voice and come face to face - literally - with the wardrobe.

"This is impossible." Peter marvels out loud as he plops back down on the bed, the wardrobe tipping over to land on the bed next to him.

"I know it is, but here we are." The wardrobe responds.

"I told you he looked sweet, Mama, didn't I?" The teacup says.

"All right, Morgan, now, that'll do." The teapot - Mrs. Potts, Peter's mind supplies - says, getting the teacup - Morgan - to stop talking so the sugar bowl could pour some sugar into the tea.

"Slowly now. Don't spill." Mrs. Potts instructs as Morgan begins to hop closer to the bed. Peter took his cue, getting down on the floor and picking Morgan up. He also tried not to think about how weird it was that he was about to drink out of a sentient thing that had a name as he did so.

"Thank you." Peter thanks.

"Wanna see me do a trick?" Morgan asks as soon as Peter took a sip, making him pull her away from his lips. Peter watched in surprise as Morgan began to blow bubbles out of the top.

"Morgan!" Mrs. Potts scolds as Morgan and Peter both giggle at the popping bubbles of tea.

"Oops. Sorry." Morgan sheepishly apologizes.

"That was a very brave thing you did, my dear." Mrs. Potts praises.

"We all think so." The wardrobe adds right after.

"But I've lost my Aunt, my dreams, everything." Peter sadly says, looking away from all of them in an attempt to hide and get rid of the tears that were forming once again.

"Cheer up, Child. It'll turn out all right in the end. You'll see." Mrs. Potts tries to soothe before giggling at herself. "Oh, listen to me jabbering on while there's a supper to get on the table. Morgan?" Mrs. Potts says as she began hopping out of the room.

"Bye." Morgan bid farewell as she hops after her mother.

"Well, now, what shall we dress you in for dinner?" The wardrobe asks once it was just her and Peter in the room. "Oh, let's see what I got in my drawers." The wardrobe says, already beginning to rummage through her drawers and pulling out a bunch of evening clothes.

"That's very kind of you, but I'm not going to dinner." Peter stops her, making her gasp.

"Oh, but you must." She says, both of them looking towards the door when they heard Happy enter the bedroom.

"Dinner is served."

*   *   *

The Beast was pacing back in forth in front of the fireplace they had in the dining room as he waited for Peter to join him.

"What's taking so long? I told him to come down. Why isn't he here yet?" The Beast impatiently asks.

"Try to be patient, Sir. The boy has lost his Aunt and his freedom all in one day." Ms. Potts tries to placate.

"Master, have you thought that perhaps this boy could be the one to break the spell?" Rhodey chimes in, causing the Beast to whirl on him.

"Of course I have! I'm not a fool." The Beast snaps.

"Good! So, you learn to love and care for him, he comes to love you, and poof! The spell is broken. We'll be human again by midnight." Rhodey continues.

"Oh, it's not that easy, Rhodey. These things take time." Ms. Potts reminds, making sure Rhodey didn't get too ahead of himself and created false hope.

"But the rose has already begun to wilt."

"Oh, it's no use. He's a child and I'm - well - look at me! I'm something he'd see in his nightmares." The Beast grumbles, making both Ms. Potts and Rhodey sigh at his self-depreciation.

"You must help him to see past all that." Ms. Potts gently coaches.

"I don't know how." The Beast grumpily admits, causing Ms. Potts to furrow her brows in determination before hopping down towards him.

"Well, you can start by making yourself more presentable. Straighten up. Try to act like a gentleman." Ms. Potts commands, The Beast being quick to stop slouching and obey her.

"Yes. When he comes in, give him a dashing, debonair smile. Come, come, show me the smile." Rhodey is next to order, the Beast attempting to give a charming smile, which just turned into him showing off all of his razor-sharp teeth.

"But don't frighten the poor boy." Ms. Potts says, both her and Rhodey taking turns trying to explain what Beast should do to make Peter feel more welcomes.

"Impress him with your rapier wit."

"But be gentle."

"Shower him with compliments."

"But be sincere."

"And above all-"

"-you must control your temper!" Both Rhodey and Ms. Potts finish at the same time, the handle to the door jiggling right after.

"Here he is!" Rhodey excitedly says, making the Beast put on a smile as the door swings open. Only, Happy was the one to poke his head around the door, and he appeared to be there alone.

"Good evening." Happy nervously greets, causing the Beast's smile to fall.

"Well, where is he?" The Beast questions.

"Who? Oh," Happy begins, nervously laughing when he realized that playing dumb was getting him nowhere, "the boy, yes. The... boy. Well, actually, he's in the process of... uh... circumstances being what they are... oh... he's not coming." Happy stutters about before finally spitting it out.

"WHAT?" The Beast screams, instantly bursting out of the dining hall and running up towards the room Peter was staying in.

"Oh, dear. Your Grace! Your Eminence! Let's not be hasty!" Happy yells at the Beast as all three of them run after him.

As soon as the Beast slid over to Peter's door, he began banging on it as hard as he could, practically shaking the walls as he did so.

"I thought I told you to come down to dinner!" The beast screams through the door at Peter, everyone behind him shaking their heads at his harsh tone.

"I'm not hungry." Peter's small voice reaches out the hall, making Beast's hair stand up on his back due to how angry he was.

"You'll come out or I'll-I'll... I'll break down the door!"

"Master, I could be wrong, but that may not be the best way to win the boy's affections." Rhodey hesitantly chimes in.

"Please attempt to be a gentleman." Happy practically begs.

"But he is being so difficult." Beast points out as if that was going to excuse his behavior.

"Gently, gently." Ms. Potts coaxes, the Beast giving her an unimpressed look before turning back towards the door.

"Will you come down to dinner?" The Beast asks in a quiet and bored voice.

"No!" Peter still denies, the Beast turning towards everyone and giving them an, "I told you so" look.

"Ah-Ah," Happy tuts before coaching, "suave, genteel."

"It would give me great pleasure if you would join me for dinner." The Beast says with fake enthusiasm, Happy cutting in right after.

"And we say 'please'."

"Please." The Beast grits through his teeth, only to get the same answer in return.

"No, thank you."

"You can't stay in there forever!" Beast angrily yells at the boy.

"Yes, I can." Peter argues back, clearly dead set on being as stubborn as possible.

"Fine! Then go ahead and starve!" The Beast screams once again, turning the end of his sentence into a roar. "If he doesn't eat with me, then he doesn't eat at all!" Beast tells the gang behind him before angrily storming off down the hall and slamming the door after him.

"Oh, dear. That didn't go very well at all, did it?" Ms. Potts comments as Happy turns towards Rhodey.

"Rhodey, stand watch at the door and inform me at once if there is the slightest change." Happy commands, Rhodey walking right in front of Peter's door and getting ready to stand guard.

"You can count on me, mon Capitaine." Rhodey salutes.

"Well, we might as well go downstairs and start cleaning up." Happy sighs prompting both him and Ms. Potts to start heading back downstairs.

Meanwhile, the Beast was running down the hall in the west wing, slamming open a pair of doors at the end of the hall.

"I ask nicely, but he refuses," Beast grumbles, taking a broken chair that was sitting in front of the doors and throwing it clear across the room. "what does he want me to do, beg?" Beast angrily asks the air, stomping over to a table that held only two things; a  rose glowing brightly inside a large glass bell and an enchanted mirror.

"Show me the boy." Beast growls as he swipes the mirror off the table, the last thing he saw was his own reflection before the magic of the mirror took over and showed him the image of Peter sitting on his bed next to the wardrobe.

'But the master's really not so bad, once you get to know him. Why don't you give him a chance?' The wardrobe tries to cajole.

'I don't want to get to know him. I don't want to have anything to do with him. He's mean and scary.' Peter tells the wardrobe, making the Beast wince and look away from the mirror.

"I'm just fooling myself. He'll never see me as anything, but a monster." Beast sighs, gently placing the mirror face down on the table, right next to the wilting rose that was already losing another petal.

"It's hopeless."

Tag List: @joyful-soul-collector​ @lost-lunar-wolf​ @spideyspeaches​ @hatakehikari​ @thatcrackheadsadbitchtm​