#decided it’d annoy me more than amuse me

[friendlyneighbourhoodelf]

au in which obi-wan drops his lightsaber when he is shot down during order 66 and, in-line with canon occurrences, cody catches the lightsaber. this (through some kind of force stuff) deactivates his chip. unfortunately, obi-wan doesn’t realise and they escape separately. cody joins the rebellion, and the lightsaber remains a closely guarded secret and a symbol of his guilt/the past. it remains like this until obi-wan is called upon to rescue leia and, for the first time in years, actually wants use of his lightsaber. the lightsaber (again, through some kind of force stuff, perhaps obi-wan’s gradual reconnecting with the force) realises this and attempts to guide cody to obi-wan. cody is however firmly convinced obi-wan is dead, and also very busy with rebellion stuff, so does not realise what is happening. eventually, their paths collide (their stubbornness is strong but the force and obi-wan’s lightsaber are stronger) and they reunite, now with shared custody of a lightsaber.

[fan-goddess]

Hey. I have a request for October.

Modern Aemond. Your husband Aemond does not understand your crush on the new dragon rider on your favorite Show. So. One night he decides to role play your favorite character on your favorite show and sees where the night takes the two of you. The possibilities are endless.

Authors Note: Oooh I like this! Obviously the shows gonna be made up, but not gonna make reader call him the show guys name, as it’d just get confusing for everyone. My keyboard included. Still, i hope you enjoy this and thank you for the request!

Warnings: P in V sex, role play of princess and a protector, reader calls themself a woman, teasing, brat taming, name calling, praising, degrading, fluff (If i've missed any then let me know!)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat

You’d only watched twenty minutes of the newest show on Netflix that Baela had recommended to you before you became a woman possessed.

At first, you thought you wouldn’t be that interested in it, given it wasn’t your usual type of programme, which thanks to your husband Aemond, consisted solely of trashy day time tv such as real housewives of Westeros. Yet even you had to admit that after taking one look at one of the main characters, you were obsessed.

“Baela, why didn’t you tell me the main guy was so fucking hot!?” You’d called her soon as the first episode had been finished to rave about the guy. Though as you were talking raving about him, Aemond began to walk through the door with you being none the wiser while you were still on the phone.

“I never thought I’d find him so hot! Though I must say I wouldn’t mind riding him with that dragon between his legs!” You giggle, oblivious to your husband standing behind you with a raised brow and an amused smile painted on his face.

“Would you now?” Aemond says as he creeps up behind you, causing you to practically shriek in surprise and nearly throw your phone at him in a sort of self defence.

“Seven hells Aemond you scared me half to death!” You glare, the phone in your hand still on the call to Baela, who you can hear begin to laugh loudly after hearing your surprised shriek and angry words.

“Nevermind that! Whose this super hot guy you wouldn’t mind riding the dragon of then?” He grins, leaning over the sofa to look at the character paused on screen.

“Well, his names Malakai, and he’s the rider of the fiercest dragon in the world!”

“He looks like a twat.” He bluntly states, grinning slightly in amusement when you gasp at his words and begin to valiantly say praise to the character in defence. You still shout at him when he walks away to make himself a coffee, and continue to say supportive things about the character when he’s walking in with the coffee for himself, and a tea he made for you just how you like it.

“Seven hells love you’ve barely started episode two!” He groans as he sets the drinks down and gets a better look at the paused show name displayed on the screen.

“And?! I love him either way!” You insist, smiling over your own dramatics whilst you sip at your drink with a content sigh.

“Oh yeah? Do you love him more than me my love?”

“Oh I dunno…. possibly? He does ride the largest dragon in the world?” You smile, blinking your eyes in innocence. Yet that charming smile diminishes when you see his furrowed brows and annoyed eyes. “Aemond?” You call to him. Yet he ignores you and walks to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

You come in the door ten minutes later after allowing him to calm down to apologise to him, and yet those ten minutes was all Aemond needed to order a duplicate of this Malakai fuckers costume, largest dragon in the world not needed.

The large picture of the company's logo, showing where Aemond ordered the costume from, lies there clear as day on the side of the box. And does little to stifle your curiosity when Aemond has to quickly snatch the package from your eager hands before you begin to rip it open there and then.

“What is it?! You rarely order stuff online and I don’t recognise the name of the brand! Come on tell me pleeeease!” You beg, running up to his retreating form and wrapping your arms around his waist in an attempt to make him stop. Only it does nothing as he continues to walk towards the kitchen countertop.

“You’ll find out tomorrow love, how about that? Do you think you can be a good girl and not search up the company while you’re at it? I’ll be sure to give you a big reward if you’re good…” Aemond smiles as he chucks the package on it and intertwining his large hands with yours, loving the way he can practically hear your breath hitching at his not so subtle suggestive tone.

He turns around, and kisses you deeply. His fingers curling in the length of your hair to keep you close, before suddenly pulling away and chuckling at your pouty expression.

“Later love… tomorrow even. After work, I’m gonna surprise you. And hopefully you’ll love it…” Aemond grins, giving you a peck on the lips as some kind of replacement, that he already knows is not an equal exchange.

Still, that next afternoon like Aemond said, he’d set up everything he needed for it to be perfect.

The costume itself looks identical to the picture, even if it was slightly snug in certain places...

Still it didn’t matter. As Aemonds own self doubts held the reigns the minute he heard the familiar sound of your keys opening the door, following by your typical shout of a greeting you did soon as you got in and took your shoes off at the.

Only when Aemond didn’t respond with his own little greeting, you came looking. Which is when you found him laying there on the bed, fully decked in an exact replica of Malakais costume. Hair even straightened and tied up to give it that extra effect.

And he gets that exact reaction he was hoping for, as a small gasp of surprise you can't stop leaves him with many unholy thoughts.

“Princess, what are you doing alone? As the rider of the largest dragon of the world, it is my duty and honour to protect you against people who wish to harm you…” Aemond purrs, getting up from the bed to walk over and place a delicate hand on your cheek, in which you seem to instinctively nuzzle into.

“Yes my lord I apologise… it’s just, I wish to see my people. Is that so wrong my lord Aemond?” Your eyes flutter in innocence, and it takes everything within him to not grab you, bend you over the nearest surface and take what is his. But he knows he must play the game to reap the reward. You...

“Yes princess there is! There are dangerous people who lurk around any corner and wish to harm you! I cannot allow you to be so relentlessly reckless!” The frustrated role he plays is perfect, but to his shared annoyance and delight, so is your actions at playing the bratty princess.

“I don’t need you to protect me Aemond! I am a trained princess of the fucking realm! Not some helpless peasant-“ His hand works before he can think, as it moves to roughly take hold of your chin, effectively stopping you from speaking, but allowing a small gasp of surprise to be released.

The best part is, Aemond doesn’t even know if it was intentional or just out of genuine surprise of the movement.

“A good princess doesn’t swear at her protecter. She’s grateful for them risking their lives for her. Don’t you agree, princess?”

You nod your head, and yet that isn’t enough. As his grip tightens and his lips curl into a snarl. “You fucking answer your protector when he asks you a question princess!”

“Yes I understand Aemond!” Your voice is breathless, and it leaves a cruel stain of a smile on his face as he makes a look of realisation.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you princess? Me manhandling you all roughly… say it!” His grip on your jaw tightens only by a fraction, and yet it’s enough to allow another pretty audible whimper to leave your lips.

“Yes Aemond! I’m enjoying the feeling of you treating me like this!”

“I bet you’re fucking soaked through those small clothes of yours… your pretty little cunt just aching to be filled by a cock like mine huh? Tell me princess, are you a maiden?”

You nod your head, but as Aemonds face turns thundering for a moment you remember your place, and the words come gushing out with no real sense of placing. “No Aemond I’m not a maiden! But i-I don’t wish for you at all I swear it!”

“Oh really? Is that so? Well, it looks like I’m protecting a whorish princess it seems… I bet you’re lying though. I bet, that if i was to get on my knees before you and peel back your smallclothes, they’d be fucking drenched in your sweet delicious juices… would you like me to check for you princess? I am your servant by technicality, and I live to serve you fully…”

Disagreements leave your lips quickly in regards to his statement, and yet that doesn’t stop Aemond from picking up suddenly and dropping you carefully on the edge of the bed, before he gets himself on his knees before you, placing rough callous hands on your upper tights to stop you from squirming away from his hold.

“Fucking beautiful….” Aemond groans, moving to undo the belt holding your work trousers and pull them down with only one hand. An act you can’t help but find arousing as anything as you gasp lightly at the savagery of it all.

Yet you don’t have time to react fully though, as his lips and tongue attach themselves to your sodden lower half, the half growls and groans Aemond lets out as he tastes you only driving your further and further down the path of insanity.

“Oh gods Aemond, so good!” You whine, your hands weaving themselves in his hair to tug and dig your nails in his scalp. The feeling only heightening his pleasure

His lips and tongue double in the efforts for you, and he’s rewarded dutifully when he feels you cum hard on his tongue.

The taste of you covers his tongue fully and he can't help but groan at the taste. Yet Aemonds appetite isn’t yet fully satisfied, as his cock still aches and pulses in his trousers. His hands eagerly work at the frustrating belts on his costume to allow himself to be fully nude with you. The rumpled clothes falling somewhere in the room whilst your own eyes now roam over his form just as brazenly as he had looked at yours.

He swiftly enters you, the both of you hissing lightly at the intense feeling. Yet it takes no time for Aemond to thrust at a harsh pace. His hands gripping your thighs while he moves your legs to your chest, your legs pressing against his chest as he has you in a into a mating position where all your feeling are heightened and your whole body feels like it’s aflame.

His eye watches your body eagerly as he sees your breasts begin to bounce with the harshness of how he was thrusting into you. Though the patch he wears digs into his skin slightly, so with renewed vigour, as he continues to thrust into you he uses one hand to keep you steady whilst the other haphazardly undoes the patches clasp and flings it somewhere in the room.

And when you look in his eyes, both his working and fake one, he can clearly see the admiration and love in them shining through. Even when he's fucking you within an inch of your life...

You however don’t even know what it is your moaning anymore. All you know is that you’re loud, and Aemonds own groans growls and dirty words match yours in some kind of kinky symphony.

“Doing such a good job princess…. Doing so fucking well for me…” and when you manage to moan out how you were gonna cum soon for him, Aemond eagerly tries to push himself deeper inside of you. His grip on your legs tightening to an almost bruising feeling as he feels your walls begin to spasm around his cock harshly. The feeling alone drawing out that electric feeling that starts roughly tingling down the length of his spine.

“That’s it princess fucking moan for me just like that!” He groans, his thrusts losing rhythm as he allows himself to get lost in the feeling of your walls pulsing around him whilst he ruts with only the feeling of completetion flowing through his veins. A long drawn out groan releasing deep from his chest as he allows himself to cum as deep as he can inside of you, not pulling out till his orgasm stops.

Still, as Aemond collapses to your side, it’s like clockwork when he opens his arms slightly to allow you to cuddle into his side, nuzzling into the curve of his neck with a dazed smile.

“You were so good for me princess…” He grins, kissing the crown of your head affectionately whilst you preen at the praise.

“I should be saying that to you baby! I wanna ask though… what brought on that whole thing huh?” Your head tilts up slightly to look at him in the eye, and yet he can’t help but admire how soft you look in that moment.

The sun is setting currently, and where you lay on his chest, it shines perfectly through the window to create an almost halo effect around your head. His angel sent from heaven for him to defile and cherish.

You’re so beautiful in fact that within that in that moment, he almost forgets the question you ask him.

“Oh um, just thought it’d be fun given how enamoured you were with him and all...” Nothing could hide the bitterness in Aemonds tone then, no matter how much he tried to bury it down. Because who in their right mind would be jealous of a fictional character on a screen? He, he would apparently.

"Oh Aemond.." You sigh, moving so you can give him small soft kisses against his lips that he welcomes gladly with a small content noise of his own. When you move away again, he even makes a small whine younger him would've killed him for making. But screw that old version of himself. He's happy as he can be in that moment with a beautiful angel in his bed that loves him, so why should he bother with hiding himself? "You don't need to be jealous of him! He's just an onscreen crush! I don't even find the actor that cute!"

"Good. I would've killed him otherwise..."

"Oh really? And how would you do that love?" You laugh, laying your head on his shoulder so you can look at him better. The way the light shines on him and reflects off his sapphire makes him look like some sort of Greek god. Your Greek god...

"Accident. It happens all the time these days with celebrities right?" Aemond laughs, matching you as he pulls you in as close as he can whilst you giggle into the skin of his neck. He's never felt such love for another person before. But he's glad hes found and got you in his life.

"I love you princess..."

"I love you too my dragon..."

[mqverick]

your woman || ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ

mature themes, 18+

very detailed smut, dni if you’re a minor

“just use me up and then you walk away

boy, you can’t play me that way”

─── ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ───

Every time Charlie Babbitt opened his mouth, it seemed like a never-ending awards ceremony was on, a lazy smirk living permanently on the corners of his lips. It was as if the idea of someone questioning him was both amusing and absurd. Charlie’s ego was so immense, it practically had its own gravitational pull. It was the sun in his universe, with everything and everyone else relegated to mere planetary status.

If the work didn’t pay well, you wouldn’t had bared a single second next to him, leaving to finally rest at your home with his excessively loud yelling still ringing in your ears, the annoyed sighs, the rude commands. To sum things up, Charlie Babbitt was the kind of man to drive you insane even if you were walking on sunshine.

It surprised you when he first announced that he’d preferred little old you over Lee to come along with him on a business trip in Palm Springs.

The response that rolled on the tip of your tongue at first was a big fat no. Why on earth would you want to spend an entire weekend with that nerve wrecking boss of yours when you could just enjoy the rewarding silence and comfort of your own home? But then again, when Charlie had his mind set on something, he stuck with it until the end.

In other words, whether you liked it or not, you were going on a little ‘getaway’ with him. Turned out, though, that his plans got disrupted by the sudden death of his father, forcing him to take a turn and drag you along to Cincinnati, where the funeral was taking place. You found out later on in the car that Charlie wasn’t the biggest fan of his father due to the lack of emotion he showed throughout the ride. You didn’t care to ask, simply letting out an annoyed groan every now and then to piss him off even further.

For four hours, you were participating in a scoff contest with him, winner would be the one with the longest, most pained sigh. Things got even worse — if possible — after Charlie spoke to the family lawyer about his inheritance, which was as disappointing as getting to work for him all day long. Couple of rose bushes and a stupid car.

“For fuck’s sake, Charlie, can you quit complaining about everything?” you yelled at him after deciding that you’d had about enough.

“Quit complaining?” he repeated, looking at you as if you were a lunatic. “Tell you one story. Just one. You know that convertible out front? My father loved that car more than he loved his family. It’d always been off limits to me. Tenth grade, I’m sixteen and for once I bring home a report card and it’s almost all straight A’s.”

You glanced at him, impressed with the statement, whistling out a low ‘ooh’. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Babbitt,” you commented and he had to break the eye contact for a minute, flushed with embarrassment and a light blush.

“Don’t look so damn surprised, Jesus. So, I go to my dad. Can I take the guys out in the Buick? A victory drive, you know. Says no, but I sneak it out anyway, take the keys. We’re on the Lakeshore Drive; four kids — and we get pulled over. He’d called in a report of a stolen car, not his son took the car out without permission. Just… stolen.”

“I’m getting bored of your sob story.”

“Shut up, will you?” he gritted through his teeth, sighing when you faked a yawn to demonstrate how deeply nonchalant you felt about his story.

“Get to an end, it’s been years.”

“Cook County Jail. Other guys’ dads bail ‘em out in an hour. He left me there two days. Drunks were throwing up everywhere, psychos eyeing me up… That was the only time in my life I was gut scared. Shit-your-pants fucking terrified. Left home, never came back and here I am.”

By the end of his memory, Charlie was trying to choke back a couple of tears that burned through his blurry eyes. His back was turned to you, he hated getting weak, felt as though the Trojan walls he’d built to keep up his mental strength had been bombed, collapsing into crumbles.

You said nothing — couldn’t bring yourself to. You weren’t used to being around that Charlie, had no idea how to react. Under normal conditions and had you not despised his guts, you would’ve hugged him so tightly that the air would get knocked out of his lungs, but it felt wrong, inappropriate for the moment. You settled for a tight-lipped smile instead, standing up and grabbing the second pillow from the bed, tucking it under your arm along with a blanket.

“Looks like you need the bed more than I do.”

Not even a goodnight. He didn’t bother to say another word to you either, so you called it a night, hugging the uncomfortable pillow closer to your head as you shivered under the blanket, wishing that you could’ve gotten the bed instead of the couch. Charlie deserved it that night, though. It was probably the least you could do for him, seeing as your way with words wasn’t exactly a delight. Sleep wasn’t on your side either.

Spent a couple of moments tossing around in agony, until you eventually decided to get up, blanket wrapped loosely around your shoulders as you rummaged through the library in the living room, encountering a photo album. You looked around in the room, making sure that Charlie was still in his room and placed the heavy album on your lap, carefully turning the pages.

Charlie at four years old. Then a bit older, standing alone in the picture, scrawny chest, baggy trunks. You had to stifle a chuckle, the pictures of younger him amusing you.

───

You both woke up early the next day, wind blowing through your hair as Charlie drove to the beneficiary down at the Lynwood Home. Just some stuff I have to wrap up for my dad’s estate, was the only explanation he gave you as he turned down the narrow road, clearing the crest of a hill now, a huge white building coming into view. A country estate, you reckoned.

Charlie continued toward it, approaching a man painting at an ease near the side of the road, shielding whatever he was working from the view by having his back turned to you.

“Excuse me, that place up there is the Lynwood Home, isn’t it?” But the man didn’t acknowledge Charlie in any way and you had to hold back a chortle. Nevertheless, he continued his way into the building, asking you to wait for him outside (wouldn’t take long, he said) as he sorted out the beneficiary issue that seemed to taunt him.

Not being in a mood for arguing, you did as you were told, patiently sitting in your seat as you shuffled through the radio station, trying to find a catchy song to listen to. You gasped in surprise when the sudden presence of a man sat next to you at startled you out of your boredom.

“Hello, can I help you?”

No response.

His hands were firmly grasped around the steering wheel as he started intently at it. Didn’t move at first, just stayed still for a couple of seconds before he began murmuring something that you couldn’t really make out. You tried to get him out of the car, but he flinched as if your touch was scorching against him in every intention of pushing him away. At some point, you gave up and hoped the man would leave when Charlie would come back, otherwise he was bound to hearing it from him very loudly.

Which indeed happened when he finally returned, rudely asking the poor guy to get going. Raymond, as you found later he was called, had other plans though. Apparently — and it came as much as a shock to you as it came to Charlie — he was his brother. Son of Sanford Babbitt.

Raymond Babbitt, who was kidnapped in some sort of way by Charlie, claiming that Dr. Bruner had suggested that he took his brother on a little trip. You knew that was just his usual bullshit talk, though, but tried to keep it down your throat, focusing more on helping Ray relax. He was mouthing stuff that made no sense, spelling out Vern and memorizing TV dialogues — he looked and sounded stressed and it made you want to hit Charlie’s breaks so abruptly that he’d crash his stupidly air floated head into the front shield of the car without the slightest hint of a warning.

Fucking California.

You found yourself in a crappy motel he’d rented in California for the night. Raymond was upset, so out of his comfort zone and familiar routine and places, sitting alone in his room as Charlie wandered back and forth all over the rooms while making calls back to Lee, informing him that he needed to put a pause in the business for a bit.

How insane was he exactly again?

“You’re a horrible fucking person, you know that?” you muttered lowly into his ear as you mustered a warm smile to his brother, opting to make whatever the hell of an experience that was at least enjoyable for him.

“You have no place in this.”

“No? Last time I checked you’ve been dragging me back and forth your stupid trips like I’m some sort of forgotten luggage.”

“That’s it — lights out, Ray Ray,” Charlie exclaimed in a forced enthusiastic voice as he grabbed your shoulder and pulled you outside, closing the door to Raymond’s room.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Get a fucking taxi and leave! I’m not going to give you explanation on what I do in my personal life,” he whispered-yelled at you, stalking across to his own room as you followed him, pissed.

“He’s your brother! You’ve kidnapped the poor guy, have been nothing but a dick to him and all that for what? Go apologize to him, tell him that first thing tomorrow morning you’re taking him back to the beneficiary,” you ordered him in the same tone he used at you.

Charlie shielded his eyes, running his palms down across his cheeks as he let out a long, dramatic sigh, burning holes through your head with his malicious glaring. “The fuck that’s happening! He’s a freaking pain in the ass, obviously I’m not going to tuck him in and kiss his forehead goodnight — I’m not his mother.”

“You’re his kid brother, Charlie. For crying out loud, he needs you, the least you can do for him is show some respect. It’s not his fault he doesn’t understand the world the same way you and I do,” your voice softened just a tad, trying to keep the noise down for Raymond not to hear. “He’s your big brother, could be someone to look up to—”

Charlie glared down at the floor, fighting of his temper. He shook his head — could be even be hearing to your nonsense? “What’s going on in my life is none of your fucking business and you get no chance to go around giving advice.”

“Fine, be the shitty piece of burning crap you are then, I couldn’t care less. But you owe me explanation on why you brought him here. What are we even doing in California?”

Charlie collapsed on the foot of his bed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to keep him. I’m pissed off at him…”

“What is that even supposed to mean? Pissed off at Raymond? What has he done to you?”

“No, at my dad. I need to get what’s mine, okay? He left Ray a shit ton of money and… You heard what Lenz said, okay? He doesn’t even understand the concept of money — my dad preferred to leave him three million dollars, up until every last dime, he fucking despised me.”

You blinked slowly, trying to absorb all of this.

“You’re telling me you’re treating Ray like he’s some sort of your property for money? Where the fuck do you get off, Charlie — you’re disgusting!”

You stalked past him in the bedroom, storming off as you slammed your hands on each side of your head in disbelief. You heard him get up from the bed, catching up with you as he snatched your arm and turned your body towards his own.

“You don’t know how it feels to be in my shoes right now, okay? Look, I need you… I need you here, this is all very confusing for me and—”

“For you?! What about Ray? Is anyone’s life even worth anything to you? No, wait, everything has to be about you only! What do you even need me for, huh? Babysitting, pussy, more money? I’m fucking leaving, I don’t want to be involved in your little freakshow,” you were screaming now, unable to hold yourself back as your finger stabbed toward the wall to punctuate your points.

“What’s my crime here?” Charlie continued, as if he was clueless to the entire situation. You wished you could just start punching sense into his head.

“Your crime is that you use people. You’re using Ray, you’re using me, you use everyone you son of a bitch. I hope your money goes into your fucking grave when you—” out of the blue, his mouth was covering yours with force, hands clutching into your shoulders as he tried to keep you steady against him, eyes squeezed shut.

You recoiled, unable to gauge any reaction out of your body, but let him continue bringing more heat into the moment, eventually getting you to start moving your lips against his, matching the urgency he initiated. When Charlie pulled away, your brain was still foggy, struggling to catch your breath, which seemed to be an issue for him too.

“You wouldn’t shut up,” he explained in a raspy voice. It’d just hit him what he’d done; kissing you, kissing the person that he swore he hated. It was true, though, he’d only done it to get you to stop talking, your angry statements about his screwed up plans causing him to lose control.

Your eyebrow raised upwards in slight confusion and effort of comprehending that Charlie’s lips had been on yours just a moment ago and you’d never felt so good, so complete before in your life. You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pinned him against the wall behind him, hearing him let out a chocked gasp, which for some reason sent a tingling sensation through your lower body. The second kiss was firmer, more passionate, because this time, you both knew exactly what was happening, it was consensual and Charlie’s crotch was pressing so beautifully against your thighs that you felt as if you were high. His hands were going through your hair, messing it up completely as he explored the rest of your face too, fingers gently cupping your cheeks for a brief second, before they dipped into the curves of your waist.

You arched against his touch, biting down on your lip as his mouth now moved below, leaving a trail of rushed wet kisses through your jawline. You felt him smirk against your neck as he softly dragged his teeth against your soft spot, licking and sucking, applying just the right amount of pressure to hear your muffled noises of pleasure.

“Ray—Raymond is in the next room,” you breathed, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your lips parted in a silent moan when you felt his index finger graze your underboob through the material of your thin blouse.

“He doesn’t understand this, he’ll probably think we’re fighting,” Charlie replied to you as he surfaced from the side of your collarbone to pepper small, quick pecks on your lips.

“We are fighting.”

“Good, shut up and fight me more then.”

You melted against him as he guided you backwards into the bedroom, dipping your chin over the slope of his shoulder as he held your weight, stumbling as your back accidentally hit against the corner of the door, making you wince. You didn’t care, though, pushing the door shut as Charlie pressed you against it with a loud thud. You lazily wrapped your legs around his lower waist, but his grip on your ass was strong enough to support you.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, absentmindedly tugging at it and eliciting a somewhat loud moan from him that made your entire system shudder, embarrassed at how wet you were growing just by making out. “Fuck, Charlie — bed now.”

He obliged, laying you on the bed as he pulled his already half unbuttoned shirt off, fighting back a cocky smile when he noticed you impatiently unclasp your bra under your blouse. He towered over you, falling gently on top your shoulder as he held onto your hips, placing soft kisses on your flesh. He had full consciousness of the effect he was having on you, finding it incredibly hot.

“God, you’re so…” he trailed off, hoping you hadn’t heard him. Truth was, Charlie had always been captivated by your beauty, convinced himself that there wasn’t another person in the planet that was half as gorgeous as you were.

He placed a tender kiss on your lips and helped you take your blouse off, giving you a moment to breathe before getting lost into the V-line between your breasts. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped from your mouth when the tip of his tongue made contact with your cold skin, his hums and groans vibrating through it.

The man who you’d been at odds with was tracing his digits dangerously close to the hem of your underwear and it all felt like the glimpse of embarrassment from having wet fever dream that pleased you more than any other human touch.

“I still think you’re the worst person I’ve met, by the way,” you muttered through tiny sighs, eyes closed as your fingers twisted around the bed sheets, hips suddenly jerking as you finally felt his hand hover over your scorching core through your trousers. “Stop fucking teasing me.”

“I think it’s rich that you’re giving me orders when I can just completely stop touching you and go to sleep while you’re whining like a mess,” Charlie replied, distancing himself from you in demonstration, walking right across the other side of the room to pick up his discarded shirt.

You were going to skin the bastard alive.

“Fuck you, Charlie, you’re a fucking brute, you know that?” you yelled in frustration, getting up from the bed and sprinting over to him, turning him around and crashing your lips against his, nails now digging painfully into the curves of his ripped back. Stealing each other’s air, you fell back into the bed again, pulling his trousers down and almost cumming when you caught a glimpse of his cock twitching against the fabric of his gray boxers, sort of visible due to the front patch that had gotten all wet and sticky from his precum.

You pulled at his hair, breaking the kiss to smile a little when you noticed that he was equally lost in the moment, biting on his bottom lip lustfully, looking at you through half-lidded eyes and beautiful blown pupils. You could feel the thud of your combined heartbeats, while fumbling to take off more clothing pieces, needing to feel every inch of his skin pressed up against yours, giving you goosebumps. You’d never felt that way.

“Fuck, that hurts,” he winced as your nails dug so deep into his back’s muscles that they ended up leaving wound marks, fresh and sort of pinkish.

“Touch me or it’ll get worse,” you threatened, knowing that as he’d said earlier, you weren’t really in a place to be colourful with him. His tongue scraped the roof of your mouth as he ran a finger down your center, testing the waters over your underwear and smirking when he felt the heat of your soaked panties radiate against his digit. You were so ready for him and he hadn’t even began doing anything to you — his erection growing painful at the observation.

“You’re so hot for me, I haven’t even touched you yet, gosh,” he whispered through a strangled moan, mind hazy as he tossed your panties aside and finally slipped a finger inside of you. Your hips jerked in surprise, rocking against his hand, craving the friction, the urge to fill you up more.

You moaned embarrassingly loud when the tip moved in a hither motion, almost losing your shit. He didn’t take too long to add another finger, which only made it better for you as you took a quick glance at him through your lashes, butterflies gushing inside your stomach at the sight of him, all worked up, lips parted as small groans came out of them, eyes closed as he fought off the need to wrap a hand around his dick as well, get off to touching you.

“Charlie,” you cried out his name, hips rolling forward as his touch made contact with your bundle of nerves. His long fingers were hitting all the right spots inside of you and the combination of the still very burning anger for him and the little wet noises along with his grunts had sent you over the edge a lot faster than you’d expected.

The moment Charlie felt your walls clench around his fingers, he pulled them off, wiping them off on the fabric of his boxers as he muffled your frustrated whimper with a kiss, permitting his hand to touch himself over his boxers as you ground against his thigh, pulling him down on top of you. Off, you mouthed, looking at his underwear. The bastard was driving you insane, so you yanked them off when you noticed he had no intention to giving in to your requests, sliding them down his ankles. Your jaw almost dropped at the gates of hell when you saw him, needing a moment to take it all in. He was so pretty, so achingly ready to go inside you, the image alone was enough to make you cum, your previous upcoming orgasm still hanging around the air.

“What did I tell you earlier? We’re doing this my way or we’re not doing anything at all.”

“Fuck, please, just fuck me, Charlie, I can’t wait any longer,” you found yourself pleading, forgetting that just ten minutes ago you’d been on the verge of cracking his skull open.

His eyes scanned your naked body for a second and you scoffed, tilting your head in confusion.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he admitted lowly, face growing hot as if he wasn’t just about to raw your bones. He crawled closer to you, giving you a kiss before parting your thighs, muscles clenching as his tip teasingly grazed your entrance. He wanted to make you feel so good, have you remembering that moment all the nights you’d be alone at your house, be the man you’d compare all the other men to in bed.

Except Charlie didn’t want you to have any other men after that night. Hoped he’d be good enough to make you want more of him, perhaps stay the nights over, ask to sleep next to him after, if he was lucky and satisfying enough.

“Sure you want to do this?” he asked you before he could change everything between the two of you, already knowing what your reply would be.

“Yes, god, yes, be fucking done with it already,” you dragged out, dramatically impatient. Your head was thrown back the moment he slid fully into you, staying still for a bit in order for you to adjust. Both of you inhaled a sharp breath, eyes shutting closed as he lost his balance a little, the dizzying feel of finally getting to be embraced by the warmth of your walls causing his heart to beat faster than a sledgehammer against his chest.

“You feel so good,” he hoarsed, forehead connecting with yours as he absentmindedly leaned down to kiss your nose. When he moved, slowly thrusting forward, you swore you wouldn’t be able to last enough. His breath was hot against the cell of your ear, allowing you to hear every groan, every noise he made and it turned you on so much that it practically ached.

“Faster,” you ordered, rolling your hips as he began having a steady pace, sloppy, wet sounds echoing in the room as Charlie fucked you rougher and rougher, skin slapping. The bed was squeaking now, your one hand grasping for dear life onto the sheets as the other wrapped tightly around his waist, fingers dipped into the curve of his lower abdomen. You focused on his face again, your heartbeat racing as you noticed his front teeth poking out of his parted lips, finding it both adorable and incredibly sexy.

He’d stopped moaning, not wanting you to know how desperately he needed you, his hands firmly placed on your hips as he tortured himself silently. “You like that? Like how we’re fighting?”

“Shut up,” you cried out. The angle he was hitting inside of you was killing you, you wanted him deeper, impossibly much, needed him to split you in half. “You’re the fucking worst.”

Electricity jolted through your veins as he picked up pace, practically slamming into you now, the moans he’d tried to hold back in his throat coming out in a struggle. “‘M not going to last long,” he warned you, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, hands cupping your cheeks with force.

“Cum inside of me.”

You really had no idea what you were doing to him, had you? Who — Charlie Babbitt — feeling his cock twist against your walls just by hearing you say you wanted him to cum in you. You had him in a chokehold, it was kind of ridiculous.

“Fuck, I—” he never got to finish what he was going to say in the first place, because you were trembling under his touch, overwhelmed by the speed and the fact that your worst fucking enemy was fucking you like you’d never been fucked before and it was all enough to send you over the edge for the second time that night, except now Charlie didn’t stop, didn’t pull away. You propped your chin upwards and caught his mouth in yours as you came, feeling him follow shortly after you, cum shooting inside of you in warm spurts as he fucked you through your orgasms, groaning loudly, body jerking.

Once both of you had reached your highs, he collapsed on top of your body, head buried into your shoulder as the two of you tried to catch your breaths, legs tensing. It eventually dawned on you that you just had sex with Charlie Babbitt.

“That was the hottest fucking sex I’ve ever had,” you confessed as he rolled off of you, laying next to your side as he chest rose in and out.

“Yeah,” he breathed, unable of saying much.

“I hate you.”

“You’ve got a really nice way of showing it.”

You kneed his thigh and he winced, still very fragile from the intensity of his orgasm. His hair was all sticky and sweaty, clung into his forehead, face flushed and red. You could orgasm all over again just by looking at him. “I believe we’ve traumatised your brother for life.”

“Worth it.”

“You’re taking him back tomorrow.”

“No, I’ve already told you—” you cut him off by kissing him, the tip of your tongue lingering against his bottom lip as you pulled him deeper into your mouth, hand tangling into his hair.

“You’re not the only one who gets to shut up others by kissing them. And if you ever want this to happen again, you’re going to do things my way from now on.”

And Charlie was just fine with that.

FIN.

tags: again, i wrote this for @honeymvnt so i hope you’ll enjoy reading this ml !! 🎀🫵🏼

[vermil1ion-sky]

Reader getting injured in a fight and trying to act tough.

Characters: Scaramouche.

Just a little something to start posting aghdhgfhjd

-

"You're an idiot." You turn to glare at Scaramouche, who stands in the doorway of the bathroom. "Careless."

"Alright I get it okay?" With a sigh, you turn back to the mirror, cleaning the fresh cuts on your face. "Would it kill you to be nice just once?"

"This is me being nice." Scaramouche frowns. "I could say worse things right now, and it'd all be justified"

You roll your eyes, still carefully cleaning your injuries. "It's not my fault I got ambushed, the forest has good places to hide..."

"Or maybe you're just not observant enough of your surroundings."

You wave a hand dismissively at him and out of the corner of your eye, you can tell he's really annoyed. Yeah, you got a couple of scratches out of a fight, you think that’s a normal thing to happen

"Whatever. I could've dealt with them fine without you jumping in."

Scaramouche scoffs, crossing his arms while looking amused. "Oh yeah? Because from where I stood, you'd be fertilizer in the Avidya forest had I not 'jumped in' then." He takes a step forward making sure he's in your line of sight and smirks mockingly. "Would it kill you to admit you needed my help?"

You push him away slightly, turning to look at him with an annoyed look. "If you're not going to help then I suggest you get out and do something else other than mocking me."

He doesn't move, just stares as you try to mentally block him out. You wipe the largest cut on your cheek a little too harsh and it makes you flinch. "Damn it..."

Scaramouche sighs and opens his hand towards you, like he’s waiting for you to give him something. You look at him quizzically. "...What?"

He definitely looks more annoyed than before, grabbing the cloth you were using to clean your cuts. You’re about to protest, and he grabs your chin, making you turn towards him. “H-Hey! What-”

“Be quiet.” Scaramouche keeps your head steady and, to your surprise, he picks up on cleaning your wounds. He sees you looking at him confused and he simply raises an eyebrow. “...You said I should leave if I wasn’t going to help... so...”

‘I don’t want to leave you’ 

Is what you interpret from his words, or lack thereof, and you feel a fluttering in your heart, praying to any archon listening that he didn’t notice the way your heartbeat accelerated and how the tip of your ears feel warmer.

You stay still, his grip on your face surprisingly... soft, for someone as brash as him. He’s entirely focused on making sure your cuts won’t get infected, he passes a particularly sore spot, making you flinch but his hand keeps you in place.

His thumb softly caresses your cheek, maybe a reflex or maybe it’s his own way of comforting you.

Soon enough, he finishes. He throws the now used rag to the trash, letting go of your face. You stand there awkwardly for a little while, unsure of what to say, until you decide to break the silence.

“... Thanks...” Scaramouche looks at you and you expect him to tease you, to call you the names you’re both used to throwing at each other. It’s how your relationship works; tough words easily mistaken by outsiders as a mutual hatred, as two enemies merely tolerating the other, about to rip each others’ throats any second. Little would those people know it’s just your strange way of showing affection.

Strange, but it works well enough for the both of you.

Scaramouche simply sighs, rubbing the back of his neck - a telltale sign that he’s embarrassed, you’ve come to learn. “...t’s fine”

“...I mean it... Not just now but, um, before...” You look away, refusing to make eye contact; refusing to acknowledge that you’re about to say ‘you were right’ to your boyfriend of all people. “I really did need the help so, uh... y’know...”

The air is silent, awkwardness hanging in the air as you’re both standing there, not saying anything... The tension slowly feels like its draining everything from you.

So with a deep breath and a lot of courage, you step forward towards Scaramouche, and you grab his face, lightly squishing his cheeks with your hands. Before he’s able to protest, you pull him closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek and whatever he was going to say dies in his tongue instantly. 

“... Thank you for looking after me.”

What you thought would’ve been a solution to the silence ended up making it worse, as the air feels almost suffocating now. Slowly but surely, you feel your face heat up with embarrassment; the way Scara looks at you with surprise plastered all over his face certainly isn’t helping. You quickly let go of his face as if the mere touch burns your skin.

You turn to leave and maybe hide in your bed until the embarrassment passes but you’re janked back by your wrist, twisting around and clashing into a strong pair of arms, his lips capturing yours in an intense kiss that you can’t help but melt into. All the emotions Scaramouche can’t show with words, you can feel in the kiss.

He pulls away first, keeping his face close to yours. There’s a tenderness to his gaze that you rarely see, a vulnerability he shows to no one but yourself. His hand cups your cheek and you instinctively lean into his touch, craving whatever form of affection he’s willing to give right now; his thumb brushes over your bottom lip and he leans forward close to your ear, his breath tickling you and making you shiver.

“... Don’t start getting into fights just to make me kiss you...”

With that alone, the soft atmosphere switches to your usual bickering state. You push him away, jokingly and he knows it, covering your ear, the frown on your face completely negated of it’s intimidating intent with how red your cheeks are.

“You are insufferable.”

“Yeah... but you like it.”

[myymi]

For your prompt thingy, maybe something with Rouge and Tails?? I like how you write their dynamic 💜💜

word count-1,587

ao3

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

Tails hummed as he walked up the steps to the front door, knocking on it a couple of times before stepping back. He wiped his shoes across the doormat to get rid of any dirt stuck to his shoes, not wanting to track it inside.

His ear twitched when it picked up rustling on the other side of the door. He checked the time on his communicator for the seventh time since he left his workshop, wanting to be absolutely sure he wasn’t late.

He left a lot sooner than he needed to, and he was still early. He even stopped for a quick lunch on his way over.

The door soon opened to reveal a white bat leaned against the doorway. She wasn’t wearing any eyeshadow, so Tails assumes he must’ve interrupted her while she was applying her makeup.

“Why is it that you always arrive so early to things like this?” Rouge asked, shaking her head. She seemed more amused than annoyed though, so the kit just shrugged.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” He apologized with a smile, rubbing the back of his neck, but the bat just waved him off.

“Didn’t Shadow tell you to let yourself in?” She stepped away from the door enough so Tails could walk inside before shutting it behind him.

“Yeah, but walking into somewhere uninvited just feels weird.” The fox explained as he walked alongside the girl as they went to the garage. He adjusted his backpack so the straps would stop digging into his shoulders.

“You were invited, foxboy,” Rouge pointed out, “but you’re a goody two-shoes, so this is to be expected.” She patted his head a couple times, stopping at the door to the garage. Tails rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment on it.

“Is Shadow already with the Dark Rider?” It’d make sense, since he wasn’t the one to open the door.

“No, Shadsy had to do some work. I’m babysitting today.” She smiled as she pointed up to her eye, “I’ve got something to finish though, so try not to wreck anything in there.”

“Shadow’s okay with you leaving me alone with the Dark Rider?” Tails raised a brow. Nobody outside of Shadow and Rouge were allowed to be alone with the bike. The fox didn’t complain, he enjoyed their company while he worked. Besides, he understood the feeling plenty.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Rouge winked before waving her hand, “and you won’t be alone, Omega’s in there. He’s got a request for you and insisted on asking it right away. They’ve been waiting all day.”

“Oh, sorry,” Tails glanced at the door for a second, “I would’ve got here sooner if I had known. I’ll try to make it up to him.”

“You boys have fun,” The bat said as she turned to leave, “don’t destroy anything until I’m back.”

“Sure thing.” Tails laughed before entering the garage, looking for the first empty space he could set his stuff at. His eyes landed on a workbench made of a lighter wood that definitely wasn’t there last time he came by. He raised a brow as he made his way over to it, waving at Omega as he walked by.

“Hello tiny mechanic.” The robot greeted, watching as the kit walked by. “I have an upgrade request.”

“Rouge mentioned that,” Tails shrugged his bag off, setting it on the floor next to the workbench as he looked it over. There was a note addressed to him on it, so he picked it up to read it, “why don’t you tell me about it and I’ll see what I can do while we wait for Rouge.”

“I would like a similar attachment that you possess. The cannon you materialize.” He stated, and Tails could’ve sworn there was a maniacal glint in their optics. The fox looked up from the note to make sure he heard the robot correctly.

“My arm cannon?” He asked, tilting his head in thought. He’d definitely have to modify it a lot for it to work. He had a feeling energy blasts and fire wouldn’t mix well if too close together without proper protection.

“Affirmative.” Omega nodded, “I have analyzed your use of it in battle and have decided it is a worthy weapon to add to my arsenal.” Tails wasn’t really sure how he was going to add in an arm cannon to the robot, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to figure it out.

“Well, I’ll have to run tests and modify it to make sure you can use it without damaging yourself, but I don’t see why not.” Tails shrugged, namesakes flicking as he sat the note back down. “I’ll work on the blueprint while we wait for Rouge, then build it when I’m back at my workshop.”

Omega gave a nod before stomping over to watch as the fox pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil from his backpack. He glanced around for a chair to use, shrugging when there wasn’t one. He didn’t mind standing while working, but he preferred to sit down.

He got to work on the blueprint, adding modifications to the design when Omega voiced them. He briefly explained what parts he’d need to protect or modify to keep it from blowing up after its first shot, but he’s pretty sure the robot didn’t care. As long as it worked.

The blueprint was finished in thirty minutes. Tails had to bring out his highlighters so he could tell the difference between what needed to be modified and what was just something Omega wanted changed.

“Alright,” Tails sighed as he recapped his yellow highlighter, putting it in his bag with the rest of the others, “I should be done in about a week if I can get Sonic to leave me alone when I work at night.”

“Working day and night is insufficient. You will exhaust yourself.” Omega pointed out, turning to the fox who let out a groan.

“Can I not catch a break from anyone?” He mumbled, shaking his head as he slipped the blueprint into his binder before sliding that into his bag. Seriously, what’s so bad about him staying up to work? He’s being productive!

Tails glanced at his communicator, “Huh. I would’ve figured Rouge would be done at least by now. I wonder–”

“Oh, I’ve been here for the past 25 minutes.” The fox startled at the voice, turning to see the white bat perched on a table, her regular teal eyeshadow not dusted across her eyelids, “You two just seemed so invested in your blueprint, I didn’t want to ruin your fun”

“Oh,” Tails laughed and picked up his backpack, setting it on the workbench so he could pull out the tools he needed, “Sorry. I’ll get to work,” he said as he ticked off the materials in his head. Fuse, multimeter, circuit breaker..

“Don’t rush yourself, foxy. You’ve got all day.” Rouge waved him off, leaning back on her hands. She watched as the fox moved the motorcycle so he could unscrew the panel, carefully setting it to the side.

“I’d still like to get it done quickly though,” Tails said as he grabbed his multimeter and circuit breaker before ducking his head into the bike, “I want to make sure nothing goes wrong after I replace the fuse.” 

Rouge just shrugged in response despite the fact the kid couldn’t see her. She grabbed the book she brought with her to read while Tails worked and turned to Omega.

“What’d the kid say about your request?” She asked even though she already knew the answer, crossing one leg over the other. The robot turned to her and she could practically see the grin he would have.

“The tiny mechanic approved! I will be granted another weapon to destroy pathetic badniks with!” He cheered, arms raised to give a visual show of how excited he was.

“Good news. Can’t wait to see it.” She smirked before turning her attention to her book. It was one Amy had recommended to her, and she was quickly figuring out that she and Rose had a similar taste in novels.

She glanced up occasionally to check on the fox to keep tabs on him. She knew he wouldn’t do anything to the Dark Rider and would be fine to be here alone, but staying with him kept Shadow from nagging her so it’s whatever.

Though, she’ll admit it was interesting to watch the kid work. Once he ducked into the Dark Rider he didn’t come out, determined to finish it as soon as he could. He would either use his tails or simply reach behind to grab whatever tool he needed.

Rouge hummed as she mulled it over. It doesn’t seem odd or out of place to say Tails is fixing Shadow’s bike, but saying it’s an eight year old is something else.

Now, she’s not one to judge someone’s capabilities based on their age. She herself has been working since she was young as well, but not eight or, Chaos forbid, four. It was impressive, but she knew the kind of toll that would take.

Maybe she’ll mention it to his brother one day. Not that she cares if he’s more genius than kid, but a break for him every now and then would benefit everyone. Besides, it’d make Shadow happy to know the kid is taken care of despite how he says he doesn’t care. 

She knows better than that.

[archester-creations]

Rated: G

Pairing: Dinotrap (Dinobot/Rattrap)

Word Count: ~800

A/N: accidental secret relationship

It seemed like Optimus always stuck them together to leave the base. Most of the time anymore it was annoying, they were conjunx endurae they got it, but occasionally it was nice. Sometimes they even preferred it. It was nice to know the other was right there when the going got tough. And the going got tough a lot. Still, it was almost odd how often it was just them. Odd enough it got Rattrap curious. There was no way Optimus Primal sent them off together so much just 'cause they were conjunx. Which meant Rattrap needed to get an answer. Obviously, that meant he bothered Rhinox. Only Rhinox wouldn't answer him, so he shared with the class instead.

“Hey Optimus, not that I’m complainin’, but why do you always put us together?” Rattrap asked when they were all together, winding down after Dinobot and him got back from a thankfully-predacon-free patrol.

Optimus looked at him, an eyebrow ridge raised. “Well if you really want to know, I hope that one day you two might actually get along. And there is no better expedient than proximity."

Rattrap blinked. “Get along?” He repeated, slowly. A look at Dinobot showed he was just as confused.

“Yeah!” Cheetor said helpfully. “We know you hate each other, but it’d be nice if you learned to get along.”

“More peaceful, too,” Rhinox added in what was just shy of a mutter. Which was fair. Their tiffs and banter could cause… trouble. Like the time they’d accidentally managed to turn Sentinel on all of them. But the more interesting words came from Cheetor. What did he mean hate each other? Unless… oh. Oh. Rattrap nearly laughed his aft off. When he turned his amusement to his conjunx, Dinobot merely rolled his eyes. But he could tell Dinobot was amused, too. It was hard not to be. Boy, did they misunderstand things.

“You hate me?” Rattrap asked once he got his laughter under control, all terrible fake surprise, servo against his chassis. “I knew it. Fifteen years of being sparkmates, you’ve just been bidin’ your time to off me.”

"Sparkmates?" Rhinox asked.

Dinobot rolled his optics, but gave a regretful-sounding click of his tongue. “It seems I should’ve done it sooner. I’ve just lost my opportunity for surprise.”

The laughter Rattrap strangled into submission broke free at the flat, grating tone.

"No fragging way," Cheetor breathed. "There's no fragging way."

Rattrap smirked as best he could with laughter still bubbling up. “I can assure ya, Optimus, we get together very well. We’re drift-compatible, if you get what I'm sayin'"

"I'd rather not," Optimus said, a servo to his helm, optics looking tired. If it weren't so funny, Rattrap might almost feel bad. Almost.

"How did this even happen?" Cheetor asked.

"We were bonded on Cybertron, before either of us got roped into these little exploration missions. Obviously we didn’t think we’d end up crash landin' on a planet together,” Rattrap said.

“I was headed to earth,” Dinobot said. "For energon."

"And you know we were just headed to explore, boss monkey," Rattrap said.

“Fate clearly decided to keep our wires tangled,” Dinobot said and Rattrap rolled his optics. Though he couldn't deny he didn't mind if fate decided to keep their wires tangled, as Dinobot said. There were much worse things to crash land with. And on a planet where they could die at any time, with no clear way to get home anywhere in the future, he was glad their paths somehow managed to stay together.

Cheetor made a tiny sound of distress like a tea kettle whistle. "But you two argue all the time."

"I don’t know what to tell ya, it's how we show affection." Rattrap shrugged.

"Of course it is," Rhinox said and Rattrap smiled at him. The look Rhinox gave him in return was one of a bot who'd stayed awake for two weeks straight working on a project, only for someone to ask a question that undid the bulk of that work in a single fell swoop. Not that Rattrap knew anything about that.

"Sorry ya wasted all that time tryin' to get us together," Rattrap said with a smile which said he really wasn't. Optimus buried his helm in his servos with a groan. There was no doubt in Rattrap's mind that he was the only one who caught Dinobot's amused snort. Cheetor made another desperately confused noise.

“Maybe we should head back out and let them adjust,” Rattrap joked.

Dinobot hummed. “There was a cave I wanted to examine, we could use the time to check it out.”

"Alright." Rattrap snorted. "But if Tigatron catches us again, I'm not sayin' anythin' this time."

"TIGATRON KNEW??" Cheetor yelled in the background as they rode down the elevator.

"Good. That will be a help to all of us and a miracle if it holds true," Dinobot said.

"Eh, you love the sound of my voice."

Dinobot huffed, but Rattrap caught his grin.

[jmagnabo92]

To Win A Date

When James' boss decides to do a Date Auction with his players, Sirius does everything in his power to get James out of it, realizing his feelings along the way.

AO3

***

“You’ll never believe what they’re doing for the charity fundraiser this year,” James complains the second he enters their flat.

Sirius glances up at him from his spot on the couch where he’s doing his crossword, amused.  “It can’t be any worse than last year.”

James had complained for weeks about the dance-a-thon competition, where he had to dance with all manner of ladies and gentlemen that really wanted their piece of James Potter, famous Chaser for Puddlemere United.  The rules for the night had been simple – he could dance with anyone that paid the fee to support the fundraiser.  

James had danced with no less than fifty different patrons over the timespan of seven hours and had come home furious that he was nothing more than a dance partner – a pretty piece of meat – forced to dance the night away with the annoying people that paid for his company just to raise money just for his boss’ reputation.

“They’ve decided on a date auction.”

Sirius stops what he’s doing to look up and focus completely on James.  “Like someone buys a date with you?”

“Yes.”

Sirius isn’t too sure that he likes that idea.  In fact, he’s pretty sure that it’d been difficult enough to watch James do the dance-a-thon (although he did manage to give him a break and cause him to dance with Sirius), he doesn’t want to watch him be forced to dress up and play piece of meat number one.  

“Uh, what exactly would this entail?”

“Apparently, I have to write some ‘about me’ thing, then we’ll gather at wherever they want to hold it – where I’ll show off my assets and smile and be charming, and then they’ll auction us off like pieces of meat.  Whoever wins me, gets a date with me to do whatever they want,” James states.

Sirius nearly chokes.  “Whatever they want?  Like would you have to sleep with them if they asked?”

“They said it’s just a date,” James says, rolling his eyes.  “But they pretty much implied that since we’re all single and it’s a good cause that we should do whatever they want.  Provided they paid enough.”

“They can’t expect that from you,” Sirius says, appalled.

“They technically didn’t say I had to do anything other than date the person.  Just one date – although they do have the option for more than one date, depending on how much I go for,” James states, rolling his eyes.

They both knew that James was a high earner.  Had been every time they used him to get money.  There’s no doubt given how attractive he is and what happened at the dance-a-thon that James would be a high-ticket option.

Sirius knows that he wouldn’t be able to deal with James dating someone else even for charity, but how could he go about dealing with this situation?  

Surely, James’ boss will see reason if Sirius points out that one of his players is rather uncomfortable with the idea and he offers all of the money in his vault for donation.  Even if the man is a piece of work.

“Don’t worry, Jay.  We’ll figure something out so you’re not being bought and paid for.”

James scoffs.  “Yeah, sure.  I’m going to take a shower; I feel gross after that conversation.”

Sirius nods.  “I get it.”

***

Sirius waits until the shower is running to hop through the floo after getting clearance from the Woodstone’s house-elf. As with the Blacks, the Woodstones were quite made of money.  Thomas Woodstone probably didn’t even need to do the fundraisers for the team to give to charity (except that he likes using them to build his image into a ‘good guy’, especially after most of his family had been on the Death Eater side of the war).  He lucked out that he’d been out of the country for most of the war and unable to take the mark.  He’d bought Puddlemere just improve his image and make everyone forget about that little tidbit.  After all, everyone loved quidditch.

“Mr. Black, what an unpleasant surprise,” Thomas greets after he’s lead into his office by the house-elf.  

“The unpleasantness is all mine, Mr. Woodstone,” Sirius retorts.  “I’m here because I heard about your next planned fundraiser, and I think you’d be better off changing options.  Perhaps something along the lines of selling sweets?”

Thomas laughs.  “Don’t be daft, Mr. Black.  We both know that after last year, this fundraiser has been in the books.  It’s a great way to make money – especially with our number one player.”

Sirius clears his throat.  “How much would it cost?”

“Would what cost?”

“Don’t be daft – how much money would it take to make the fundraiser disappear?”

“You don’t have enough money in the world.”  Thomas laughs.  “You and I both know that our fundraisers aren’t about the money.  I like being in control.  I like pushing people outside of their comfort zone.”

Sirius frowns.  Of course, he realizes what a sadistic bastard Thomas Woodstone is.  Of course, it’s not about the money.  Of course, it’s about being in control of his players and looking good to anyone not in the know.

“Fine – what can I do to save James from offering himself up on a date for your stupid auction?”

“You could trade places with him.”

Sirius laughs.  “You can’t be serious – that would be majorly suspicious.”

“Well, then, I think we’re at an impasse.  Your friend will simply have to honor his commitment.”

Sirius laughs, again.  James didn’t need this job.  Sure, he loved playing, but he could get on any team he wants, plus, they both have money out the wazoo – they didn’t even need to work.

“Yeah, right.  James could quit – he doesn’t need this job, the way the team needs him.  We’ve got money and he’s got the talent that he could take anywhere.”

Thomas rolls his eyes, “Your posturing is too much for me.”

“What?”

“Do you really think that James didn’t threaten that this afternoon?” Thomas questions.  “He knew what I was intending with this auction, but he, like all of my players, are under contract to complete the fundraisers I come up with until the end of the season.”

“What?  When did he sign a contract that allows you to sell him like a piece of meat?”

“When he signed his deal two years ago,” Thomas states.  “It was in the fine print, and I’m well aware that he won’t be dumb enough to sign another contract with the team after the season is over, so I have to make the most of the contract now.”

He’s trapped.  No wonder James was so furious.  

The smirk on Thomas’ face tells him everything that he needs to know.  Thomas wins this round.  

***

Sirius doesn’t go home.  He knows that he should, but the idea that bloody Woodstone has complete control over James like this makes him furious.  He always hated that man.  He always felt that since he was from a Death Eater family and just got lucky that he couldn’t join them from out of the country that he should rot in hell (well, Azkaban) with the rest of his family.

Of course, whenever he says that, one of their friends constantly tells him that people could say the same for him (as if he was ever into the Death Eater mantra).  Sirius may share the last name, but that means nothing since he never agreed with their rhetoric.  Unlike, Woodstone.

Not that it mattered.  Contracts in the wizarding world are far more binding that in the muggle one.  Thus, he was stuck and needed a drink.

He goes to the Apple’s Orchard, a muggle pub he enjoys, knowing that he wouldn’t be as bothered as if he went to a wizarding pub.  He sits down at the bar and orders his usual – whiskey neat, taking the swill almost as if it’s a shot, and causing the bartender to raise their eyebrows in surprise.

“Rough night?”

“You have no idea,” Sirius states.  

He hates Woodstone with a passion, and on top of that, he’s facing the fact that his best mate will be forced to date someone just for money.  And given that Woodstone clearly hates James, he wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more than one fundraiser like this in the near future.  He’s practically going to whore James out just because he can.  

“Hit me, again.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to talk about whatever’s bothering you?” the bartender, who’s nametag reads ‘Pete’, asks.

Sirius sighs.  “My best mate has … signed up to do this date auction.”  

Sirius can’t explain that James can’t get out of it, or the magic involved, but he can explain that Sirius doesn’t want him to do it and James is second guessing his choice.  Hence a quick explanation about the fundraiser.

“A date auction?  Is he good looking?”

Sirius scoffs.  “He’s gorgeous.  That’s not the issue.  The issue is that he made a deal to do this auction and that he’s second guessing and I don’t really approve of such a thing.  I mean, dating for money, it’s minutes away from prostitution and it feels wrong in so many ways.”

“How?  I mean, he’s single, right?”

“Yeah, he’s single.”

“So, an attractive man giving up an evening to raise money for a good cause – what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong?” Sirius scoffs.  “What’s not wrong with it?  I mean, he’s going to go on a date for money and I just have to watch him do it.  There’s nothing I can do about it.  And worse, technically it could be multiple dates and then…”

Pete looks like he’s trying not to laugh.  “You sound like you want to be the one on the date with him.”

“What?  No, he’s – we’re just friends.”

“Sure sounds like you’re jealous of whoever ends up on that date.”

“I’m not jealous.”

Pete hums.  “Sure, you’re not.”

“I’m not!”

“Okay, then you should be fine with whoever opts to win his date.  And if you’re not fine with someone other than you winning it – then, maybe you reconsider your friendship.”

Sirius frowns.  He wasn’t jealous – definitely not, but Pete did give him an idea: he could buy James’ date himself, but he had to be careful.  He couldn’t tell James his plans.  He’ll just have to be supportive some other way until the auction and then BAM – get James’ date himself.  

Totally Foolproof.  

***

Sirius kept his plans to himself.  Difficult though that was since James had complained about not being able to get out of the date auction every chance he got for the last two weeks.  

He thought about telling James, but then James might talk him out of it.  He’d probably tease him about coming to the rescue or even maybe, possibly being attracted to James.  Which he isn’t – he’s just being a good best mate.

Or at least that’s what he told himself over and over again whenever he pictured someone else winning James’ date.  

Unfortunately, Pete’s words kept coming to the forefront of his mind whenever he thought it.  Sounds like you’re jealous.  Sounds like you want to date your friend.

But he doesn’t… of course he doesn’t.  They’ve been best mates for ten years, if he fancied James, wouldn’t he have noticed that by now?  

So, no.  He doesn’t fancy James.

“What do you think?” James questions, interrupting his musings as he enters the sitting room looking like Merlin’s gift to men.  

Okay, maybe he is a bit attracted to James, but that’s not the same as a fancy.  He just happens to know that James is attractive, that’s all.

Sirius swallows and clears his throat as he checks him out.   “You look – good.”

“Just good?” James questions as he turns to the mirror in the room.  “I was trying to look a bit better than good.  Woodstone said I had to look like I care.”

“Bloody Woodstone is the worst,” Sirius states.  “But I just – yeah, believe me, James.  He’s not going to be complaining.”

“Does that mean I look better than good?”

“You look like Merlin’s gift to men,” Sirius states, honestly.  

“That’s quite the endorsement coming from you,” James says, laughing.  “But seriously, good enough?”

Sirius nods, “I meant that, you know.  You look unbelievably good.”

“Really?” James asks, looking quite flattered.  “I thought you were just teasing.”

“Teasing can be real, can’t it?” Sirius questions.  “I mean – you had to realize that you’re attractive with all of those men and women that hit on you all the time.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“But it’s not you.  All those men and women hitting on me aren’t the same as you,” James states.  

Sirius wants to ask what he means by that, but before he can, the floo flares.  

James groans.  “Time for this nightmare to start.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“I can only hope.”

***

The place they chose for the auction was rather expensive, no doubt because Woodstone wanted to invite high money makers so that the auction would go off well and get the attention he wants.  Sirius says goodbye to James as he is taken in by his team, all of whom look about as thrilled to be here as James is.  

Sirius moves to one of the far corners and picks up a program.  He glances over the pictures and bios of the team to the order for team to be auctioned off.

He groans when he realizes that James is last on the list.  He was hoping that he could save them both the misery of not knowing who was going to buy James’ date sooner rather than later.  Instead, he’s going to be on pins and needles all night.  

He sighs.  He needs a drink and a paddle for bidding.  

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes to get his drink and paddle, but as he turns to go back to his far corner, he’s surprised to find that his path his blocked by Woodstone.  

“A paddle, Mr.  Black?” Thomas drawls.  “Thought you’d be against bidding on principle.”

“Maybe I changed my mind,” Sirius counters.  “After all, it is for a good cause.”

“Is that so?” Thomas questions.  “That seems quite odd considering you tried to use your influence to shut down the event.”

“Given that the event is still going to happen anyway, I’d say that clearly I was wrong about it being immoral,” Sirius states.  “Besides, just because I have a paddle doesn’t mean I’m going to use it.”

Thomas hums.  “I know what you’re doing.”

“Do you?”

“I do, and I thought you might do this,” Thomas states.  “Thus, I decided to institute a rule – no close friends or family can bid on their player.  Your bids will automatically be disqualified if you bid on James.”

“There’s no rule like that in the program,” Sirius states.  

“You obviously didn’t turn it over,” Thomas states.

He flips the program over and sees the rules:

1.     All bids are final.

2.     Payment is due at the end of the night.

3.     No close friends or family can bid on their player.

He glances up at Thomas when he finishes reading.  Thomas is smirking at him.

“Enjoy the event, I bet it’ll be much more interesting now,” Thomas states before turning and leaving.  

Damnit.  Sirius should’ve realized how obvious his plan would be.  Now he’d have to think of another plan.  

There weren’t many options.  He couldn’t bid on James himself, but he could potentially come up with an alias and bid as someone else.  The only problem with that is that Thomas would no doubt know what Sirius was up to, and thoroughly investigate whoever bids on James just to make sure that it’s not him.  

He could hire someone, but then, he wouldn’t know if he could trust them.  On the other hand, James was close to Trevor Jones on the team.  A good-looking man who had also been complaining about the date auction.

A quick look around lets him spot Trevor’s brother, Jeremy, looking quite uncomfortable and upset down at the program.  Clearly, he had wanted to do the same for his brother.  It would be perfect.

He makes his way over to Jeremy, and says, “Ready for tonight?”

“Not quite,” Jeremy admits.  “I had a plan to save Trevor from being bought and sold when he doesn’t want to do this, but then I saw this.”

He points at the third rule.  

“He doesn’t even know that I can’t help him out of this.  I’m not sure what to do.”

Sirius smiles.  “I had a similar plan for James, and I was thinking – I could get Trevor’s date, you could get James’ date, and it’s a win-win.  What do you say?”

“That I can’t afford James.  We both know that he’s sure to make a lot tonight.”

“No worries, I can afford James,” Sirius states.  “I’ll give all of the money in my bank account to get James’ date, but I can’t bid on him myself so…”

Jeremy nods.  “Seems like switching who we bid on is a good plan, then?”

“I’m game if you are,” Sirius states.

“Works for me.”

That settled, he says, “I’ll go back to my corner, but good luck.  He’s the last spot.”

“Trevor’s in the middle – make sure you don’t miss him.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

***

Before long, the event starts with Thomas introducing everyone to annual fundraiser, explaining that this year’s fundraiser is a date auction, and reminding everyone of the rules.

“Now, to get us started – we’ve got the lovely Isaac Button.  He’s twenty-two, loves the outdoors and can cook you dinner himself without a house-elf.  Let’s start the bidding at 50 galleons.”

Sirius tunes out.  He doesn’t need to listen to the other players and how much they’re going for.  He only cares about Trevor and James.  He needs this to go well.  He can’t stand the thought that James might go on a date with someone else.  He doesn’t want it.  He wants James for himself.  

Okay that’s a little strong.  Sure, Sirius has come to realize that he fancies James – thank you very much Pete – but that doesn’t mean he’s ready to ask him out or anything.  This is just about saving him from someone who might take advantage of him.  

Nothing else.  

It’s not like he’s going to confess his undying love for his best mate out of nowhere.  

Well, he could but James might freak out.

Before he could wonder if James’ earlier comment meant something about his potential feelings, he hears: “And now, we have Trevor Jones.  He’s twenty-four, an excellent chaser, can play the piano, and knows the perfect places to take you out on the town.  Let’s start the bid at 50 galleons.”

There are a few different people that lift up their paddles and the price goes up and up as two women battle it out before it’s gets to 500 galleons.  At that point, Sirius raises his paddle for 550 galleons.

“I see 550, do I have 600?”

A woman in red, raises her paddle, glaring at Sirius.  

“I see 600, do I have 650?”

Sirius raises his paddle.  Back and forth he and the woman go before he blurts out, “1000 galleons.”

“1000 galleons, going once, twice, sold to bidder number 53.”

Satisfied, Sirius smiles at Trevor, who looks uncertainly between Sirius and Jeremy, but Jeremy’s smiling.  

Good.  One down, one to go.

***

Sirius zones out, again.  He doesn’t need pay attention to the other players on the team or their bids.  He doesn’t really care.  He feels for them, of course, but he needs to focus on James.  James needs him to fix this issue, and he needs to make sure that Jeremy follows through with his end of the deal.

“And finally, James Potter.  Star Chaser for Puddlemere United, he can fly like no other and is every man or woman’s dream date.  Not only is he gorgeous, but he can cook, he can dance, and he’s pretty much good at anything you might want him to do.  Let’s start the bidding at 500 galleons.”

That’s a lot higher than the others, but James still has many paddles in the air.  Thus, the battle has begun.  

Sirius can’t help glancing over at Jeremy, who seems to be waiting until there’s less paddles in the air.  It’s a good strategy.  The same strategy he’d used for Trevor, so he’s not upset, but he is anxious.  

James can’t go to some random person that might want him to do something he doesn’t want to do.  

This is the most intense battle of the night as James’ number is now more than 3000 galleons, and the battle is between a red-haired woman, a blonde-haired man, and Jeremy.  James keeps giving him looks as if expecting for Sirius to step in and end the madness.  

Except he can’t.  He wants to, but he can’t.  

Poor James.

Finally, after ten minutes, Jeremy yells, “5000 galleons.”

“5000 galleons, going once, twice, sold to bidder 45.”

Relief floods through Sirius.  They’d figured it out.  Now, Jeremy could give him James’ date and he could give him Trevor’s.  Although he doubted that they would actually go on a date.  

***

With the event now over, Sirius makes it over to Jeremy.  “Thank you for doing this.”

“Don’t thank me – I did it for my brother more than you and James,” Jeremy states.  “Although I am glad that we’re able to switch with each other.  We should go finalize our dates quickly lest Woodstone make something up so that our plan fails.”

“Good idea.”

They quickly make it over to the booth and settle up, relieved when trading the date vouchers were able to be traded once they were paid for.

“Looks like I got my dream date,” Sirius teases as they walk away and straight into James and Trevor.

“Trevor’s your dream date?” James questions, looking a bit upset.  

“No, I – I couldn’t bid on you, so Jeremy and I traded – you, my deer, are my dream date,” Sirius states, showing him the date voucher.  

James looks thoroughly stunned.  “I am your dream date?  Since when?”

Sirius laughs, somewhat awkwardly.  “It’s just a play on the whole date auction thing.  You know, I wanted to save you the awkwardness of going on a date with someone that might make you do things that you don’t want to do.  This way – you win.”

“I win?”

“Yeah, you were a high earner like expected and you don’t have to play a piece of meat for some stranger that might want you to compromise your virtue.”

“Compromise my virtue?” James questions.

“Well, for 5000 galleons, I expect anyone else would’ve expected far more than a simple date.”

Especially given the way some of those men and women had been not shy about the way they checked him out.  

“5000 galleons?” James asks, surprised.  

Sirius laughs, “You didn’t pay attention?”

“We weren’t allowed to hear the bids,” Trevor states.  “They put a spell on us so we wouldn’t know what we were worth.”

“Wow,” Sirius states.  “Anyway, yeah.  I paid 5000 galleons, and it’s worth every one to make sure that you don’t have to play some piece of meat and compromise yourself.”

“I think I’m going to be ill,” James says, looking a bit woozy.  

Jeremy nudges Sirius.  “We’re good here, why don’t you take him home?”

Sirius nods.  “Yeah, I think I should.  Thanks for your help.”

“No, thank you – I appreciate saving my brother, too.”

“Good.”

He turns to James and says, “Let’s get you home.”

***

As soon as they get home, Sirius gets James into his bed and offers him a potion to help his wooziness.  Once he takes it, James sighs, obviously feeling better.

“There you go, James.  Just relax, everything’s alright now,” Sirius assures him, running a hand through his hair.  

“Do you have any idea of what could’ve happened if I earned that much, and it wasn’t you?”

Sirius barely contains his shiver.  The woman bidding against Jeremy looked quite like she wanted to skip the date and bed James.  It wouldn’t be a surprise given that amount of money that she would have paid to go the length of suggesting such a thing from James.  Something they both had been worried about ever since they discovered the date auction.

“I do,” Sirius states.  “Why do you think I did what I did?  I had the initial plan for me to bid on you myself, but Woodstone thought it through – knew I would do that and added a rule against it.”

“Hence bidding on Trevor for Jeremy and Jeremy bidding on me for you.”

“Exactly,” Sirius states.  “And now you don’t have to worry.  We’ll just have a nice date – dinner or dancing whatever you want and then, you know I wouldn’t take advantage of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” James states.  “Still, that’s a lot of money for us to do what we always do together.”

“You’re worth it,” Sirius says.  “Besides, you’ve already saved me – it’s my turn to save you.”

“That’s what this was, payback?”

“Of course not, but it helps,” Sirius assures him.  “I just – I know how worried you’ve been, and I couldn’t stand the thought of you in such pain.”

James smiles.  “Yeah, I get that.”

“Besides, you would’ve done the same for me.”

“Yeah, I would’ve.”

“Now, get some sleep.  We’ll plan out our date tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.”

***

The next morning was surprisingly awkward, Sirius wasn’t sure why until James says, “You realize that we have to go on a date now, right?”

Sirius hums.  “Yeah, but I mean – it doesn’t have to be any different than one of our normal nights together.”

Of course he wants it to be different – he wants it to be an official date, but he’s not going to say that.  After all, he wouldn’t want James to think he bought and paid for him just because he sort of realized that he maybe fancies James and didn’t want to be all jealous of James going out with someone else like he’d been when he dated Lily – not that he’d ever admit to be jealous of Lily.

It would be a terrible way to start a relationship.  

“Are you sure?”

“Well, yeah, I just got the date to protect you – I mean, it wasn’t, you know.”

“So, you – you don’t really want to date me?” James asks, sounding uncertain.

“Not like this,” Sirius states.  “Not when it was to save your virtue.”

James nods, “Right – of course.  Well, uh, either way, the voucher is for Friday.  We could do dinner, and just hang out.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Good.”

***

Despite everything feeling much more normal over the last week leading up to the date, Sirius finds himself surprisingly nervous.  He had expected that they would go to one of their normal haunts, but James had surprised him with the news that he had to make it a proper date.  Somewhere fancy and intimate.  

Apparently, the voucher had a specific location for the date – one of Woodstone’s restaurants.  Just another way for Woodstone to be in control, Sirius supposes.

It just means this date won’t be one of their normal handouts, but that doesn’t mean that it has to be intimate, right?

Sirius is perfectly capable of being his normal best mate self, even in a much more romantic setting.  After all, it wasn’t a real date.  

A knock at his bedroom door jars him from his thoughts, “Hey, Si, you ready?”

Sirius does a quick look over at himself, he thinks he looks good – he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, but he did still want to dress to impress.  Especially if they’re going somewhere fancy and intimate.

He opens the door and jaw nearly drops at seeing James.  He looks even better than he did at that auction.  “Wow.”

James chuckles, “Is that a good wow?”

“Very good,” Sirius grins.  “You look – fantastic.”

James grins, “You don’t look so bad yourself.  Ready to go?”

“Yup.  I’m ready to go,” Sirius confirms.  “Are we taking the bike?”

“Yes, I thought – I figured that we usually do when we go out,” James says, shrugging.

While true, they haven’t exactly been that close to each other since before Sirius realized that he fancied James.  Now, all of a sudden, he’s going to have James pressed up against him in form fitting clothes and … well, he’s not sure what he’s going to feel, but it probably won’t be platonic.  

Still, he can’t say no when he just asked James what he’d prefer, so he’ll just have to suck it up.  It’s not that far to the restaurant.  

“Great.  Let’s go.”

They make their way out of their flat to the bike.  He gets on and waits for James to situate himself behind Sirius.

The second he does, Sirius knows he’s in trouble.  He can feel every inch of James’ body against his back, he can smell James’ cologne – a deliciously, surprisingly forestry scent, and once his arms lock around Sirius’ waist, he can’t help thinking how terribly close his hands are to piece of his body that is uncomfortably reacting to James’ presence.  

This is going to be a long ride.

***

Luckily, they make it to the restaurant without incident.  Sirius managed to focus on the road instead of James pressed up against him, but it wasn’t easy.  

At least they made it safely.  Sirius pulls into a spot and lets out a relieved sigh as James gets off the bike behind him.  

“Are you alright?” James questions, moving so he’s looking at Sirius directly.

“Oh, yeah, of course.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, but you’re acting weird,” James states.  

“Weird, how?”

“I don’t know exactly, but you’ve been kind of weird the last few weeks,” James states.  “I thought maybe it was just because I’ve been complaining about the date auction and you were annoyed with me, but it’s been over for a week, and you’re acting even weirder.”

Sirius scoffs.  “You say I’m acting weird, but you can’t name how I’m acting weird?  Seems maybe you’ve misinterpreted something.”

“I haven’t – I know you better than anyone else, Sirius.  I know when you’re acting weird,” James insists.  “What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing!” Sirius says, a bit too strongly.  

“Fine, lie to me.”  James frowns at him.  “Let’s just get this stupid date over with so that I can get out of your hair.”

Great, now James is angry with him.  

“Jay –”

“Don’t ‘Jay’ me,” James states, angrily.  “You’re my best mate – we agreed to never lie to each other after you had to run away from home, and I had no idea how bad it was there.  And now, you’re doing it again?  I just – I thought after ten years of being my best mate, you’d know that you can tell me anything.”

James has a point, Sirius knows.  It’s just – how do you tell your best mate that you suddenly realized that you fancied him?  

“It’s nothing like that – I promise,” Sirius states.

James is still shaking his head.  “Then, at least give me a hint.”

Sirius groans.  This isn’t going to be easy no matter what he says, but he knows how important honesty is to James.  Especially after that fateful summer night after fifth year.  

“I – it’s embarrassing.”

James laughs.  “You’re rarely embarrassed, Si.”

“It’s – I – I realized that I fancied someone … kind of suddenly.”

James laughs, again, and rolls his eyes.  “Right, like I believe that.”

“It’s the truth, and it’s been kind of hard for me to realize it all of a sudden.”

Rolling his eyes, James scoffs, “Fine, as long as it’s nothing like before sixth year, you can keep your secret.  Now, are you ready for dinner?”

Sirius isn’t sure if he should be relieved or upset that James completely dismissed the truth, but either way, he’s going to have to get through this dinner date with James knowing that James is at least a little bit suspicious of what’s wrong with him.  

He’s not sure what he should tell him, and yet, he takes a deep breath and says, “Yeah, ready.”

***

Sirius isn’t surprised when James barely makes it through ordering their dinners before he asks, “Okay, seriously, what’s the secret?”

Sirius rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the way James’ intense interest in him makes his stomach flutter.  

“Didn’t you just say that you don’t need to know, and I could keep my secret?”

“Did I?” James questions.  “That doesn’t sound like me.”

Sirius gives him a look.

“Oh, come on, since when do you keep secrets?  We tell each other everything.”

“I told you – I realized I fancied someone and that’s it.  There’s nothing to tell.”

“You could tell me who it is.”

“I’d rather not,” Sirius states.  Then he distracts James by mentioning quidditch and the next game, which is tomorrow.

His distraction works – for about ten minutes until their soups come out.

“I can’t believe I fell for your distraction.”

“I can’t believe you think I’m not allowed secrets,” Sirius complains.

“Oh, come on – I’ve told you about every one of my fancies,” James states.  “I gave you all of the nitty gritty details and to be fair, you’ve done the same to me.”

“It’s different this time.”

“How?” James questions, before pausing with his spoon half-way to his mouth.  “Wait, it’s not Woodstone, is it?”

“No, Merlin, no,” Sirius states, appalled.  “As if I could ever fancy a man like that.”

“Good because I don’t think I could live with that,” James says, relieved.  “Now, tell me – who is it?”

“It’s better left a mystery,” Sirius states.  “Now, will you please let it go?”

“Of course.”

Sirius doesn’t quite believe him, but he does allow the conversation to drift into other matters for a bit, long enough for their dinners to come out, but Sirius knew that it couldn’t last.  

“Is it Jeremy?”

“What?  No,” Sirius states.  “I barely know the bloke.”

“Yeah, but he is attractive.”

“No, I’m not into Jeremey, and I thought you said you would drop it?”

“You can’t blame my curiosity.”

“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘curiosity killed the cat’?”

“I’m not a cat, Si,” James states.  “I just need to know – is it Trevor?  You did joke that he was a dream date.”

“No!  It’s not him either.”

“What about Scotty?”

“The beater?” Sirius questions.  “Why would I be attracted to him?  He’s gross.”

“Martin?”

“No.”

“Max?”

“No.”

James continues to guess every player on his team, including the reserves, except himself over the course of their dinner, until finally, he says, “I’m running out of players here.  Who is it?”

“It’s you, dumbarse!” Sirius says, way too loudly and surprising himself.

Well, shit.

James looks utterly shocked.  

So shocked that Sirius reads it as utterly disgusted.  

“Oh, Merlin, that was a mistake – I have to – I have to go.”

Sirius rushes off, determined to put as much space between him and James as possible.  He couldn’t believe that he just outed himself to James like that.

He probably just ruined everything they’ve built together.  James’ll probably move out, they’ll stop being friends, and everything good in his life would be gone.  

He vaguely hears James behind him trying to get his attention, but he just speeds up.  He can’t do this right now – it was bad enough seeing that look on his face.  He had to get out of here, take a drive far, far away.  Somewhere James would have no idea about.  Somewhere James wouldn’t be able to follow him.

Maybe he could spend some time hiding out and by the time he came back, James will have forgotten all about it or at least decided that they didn’t need to discuss it.  Or maybe, he’ll be gone.  Yeah, that would probably be for the best.  

Sirius could run away, and James could move out and that’ll be it – the end of an era.

He makes it out the doors and almost to the bike, when he feels someone pulling on his arm and the next thing he knows, he’s all turned around and pressed up against James, whose lips come crashing against his.  

It’s delightful and surprising.  He’d never let himself imagine kissing James, but damn, if he wasn’t a great kisser.  He doesn’t want it to end, but eventually, they both need air.  

“Merlin, that was –” James coughs.  “I know that we have a lot to talk about, but – can we just … continue our dinner date and – and talk about it later?”

Sirius can’t help being hesitant.  He’d just confessed that he was into his best mate, who chased after him and gave him one of the most amazing kisses of his life, and – and now, he just wants to go back to a dinner date that Sirius paid for due to this stupid date auction that started this whole mess?  How does that make any sense?  Then again, considering that he hadn’t intended to blurt it out or kiss James, it was only fair to concede.  He didn’t have to ruin their night together.

“Okay, yeah.  Yeah, let’s just pretend this didn’t happen.”

“No – I don’t want to ignore it, but I – I need time to process,” James states.  

“Process?”

“You just dropped this huge thing on me and yeah, I kind of want to kiss you and forget about dealing with all of these feelings right now, but I – I can’t,” James says, giving him a look.  “I can’t – I can’t risk screwing this up.  I – I need to think things through and at least, we could enjoy dinner together and it’ll … be enough to process and we can talk about it at home.”

Sirius nods.  After all, he’s had weeks to process this.  It’s only fair that he gives James time.  

“Yeah, I – I get it.  Let’s just go enjoy dinner.”

“Good.”

Sirius had expected that the dinner would be awkward after that, even as James leads the way inside, chatting about something that honestly went in one ear and out the other, but it wasn’t awkward at all.

Somehow, by the time that they sat down, again, James had managed to keep the chatter up and he was responding easily enough that it was almost like nothing had changed.  In fact, if Sirius didn’t know any better, he’d assume that it had all been a dream.

A dream with a mind-blowing kiss.  Surprise kiss though it was.  

Sirius couldn’t help thinking about that kiss, even as he and James toss back and forth jokes as if they’d just stepped out for some air.  It was just like any other night, except they’re a little more dressed up and this is technically a date.

Not that Sirius had really considered it a date.

No, that – this was not going to be their first date.  Sirius would want to plan a something a little more them for their first actual date.  

This date is just a practice.  Which means, he should be paying better attention to James and the words he’s saying instead of answering on remote and not really paying attention beyond watching James’ lips wondering if James’ thinking it through would mean that they’d be kissing again later or if James would decide that one kiss was enough.  

Sirius isn’t sure he could handle that, though.  Sure, he’d been thinking of running away but that was before James kissed him.  

James kissed him.  

Clearly, that meant there was some sort of attraction, but was it enough?  Or was James stalling for time so that he could figure out how to let Sirius down easy?

Sirius groans.  Will this date never end?

“Wow, Si,” James states.  “All you to do was say no.”

“Wait, what?” Sirius asks.  He’d completely missed what James asked.

“We were meant to go out dancing after the dinner… I asked if you were up for dancing?”

Sirius coughs.  He’s not sure that it’s a good idea to go out dancing with James, but he’s looking at him so hopefully.  

“Oh – er – yeah, that’s a good idea,” Sirius states.  “We should finish this –”

“Date?” James supplies.

“Non-official, not real technically, date off right,” Sirius states.  “Maybe – practice date?”

James chuckles.  “Practice date?  Interesting idea.  If that’s the case though – that this is a practice date, does that mean I get to mark you?”

Sirius chokes on his drink.  “And what sort of mark would you give me?”

James grins.  “I don’t know – depends on how you do on the dancing.  After all, I carried dinner, and you didn’t pay attention to a single thing I said.”

“I – I … you – it’s not fair,” Sirius complains.  “You just kiss me and then expect me to have dinner and then dancing?”

“That’s what I was promised for this ‘practice date’, so – are we dancing, or do I give you a T?”

“You’d give me a Troll?” Sirius scoffs.  “Did nothing before you forced me to talk count?”

“Fine, fine.  How about you’re at Dreadful, but you can bring it up if you kick arse at dancing?” James offers.  A grin on his face that has Sirius chuckling to himself.

Why did he fancy this man?

“Fine.  I’d be delighted to dance.”

“Good.”

***

Sirius had decided to tease James about how scoring system for their practice date as they finished their dinner and made their way over to the dance club down the block.  He still can’t believe this class A dork is teasing him about being bad at the date, but he could make it better.  

Thus, holding James’ hand during the walk and contributing to the conversation until entering the club where it’s loud and hard to hear.  He leads them to the middle of the club before during around and starting to dance.

He knows all of James’ moves and can’t help teasing him about how much he looks like a dork.  

“I’m a dork?  Like your moves are any better?”

“My moves are way better,” Sirius states as the music changes songs.  

They both laugh and enjoys smiling and dancing for several songs before the song changes to a slow song.  

“Maybe we should take a break, get a drink?”

James shakes his head as he wraps his arms around Sirius’ neck, pulling him close.  Sirius doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around James’ waist, pulling them flush against each other, and leaning his forehead against James’.  He could see deep into his eyes, and those brilliant hazel eyes are so inviting that he’s tempted to kiss him, again.

Deciding to go for it, Sirius presses his lips against James’, causing James to tighten his arms around Sirius’ neck.  

The kiss is far more brilliant this time since he’d been expecting it, and he’s half-convinced that James actually wants to be with him.  He opens his mouth and runs his tongue along James’ lips, and James complies.  

The kiss turns to snogging and Sirius could almost forget the nightclub and the practice date and pretend they’re at home and he could drag him to one of their bedrooms or bugger him right in the sitting room, but suddenly, he finds himself all wet as someone throws a drink on them.

“Get a room!” the drink thrower yells, before going off somewhere so they don’t start a fight.

James coughs.  “Wow.  Wasn’t expecting that.”

“The kiss or the drink?”

“Both,” James admits.  “I did ask to think about it until we got home, but I – er …”

Sirius frowns.  “Oh, do you – er – need some space?  I just thought – with the teasing…”

James smiles at him.  “Let’s go home and talk about it?”

Sirius nods.  “Yeah, yeah, let’s do that.”

***

It doesn’t take very long to get home, even though Sirius is just as distracted by James being close to him as he was on the ride to the restaurant.  

It’s lucky though because as soon as they close the door to their flat before he can even begin to ask how to start this conversation, James is kissing him, again.

It’s hot and passionate and frankly, Sirius wants to carry James off to his bedroom and unwrap him like a present, but they needed to talk about it, so he pushes him back slightly.

“Weren’t you the one that wanted to talk?” Sirius questions.  

James coughs.  “Sorry, I – I know it’s my idea to talk, but I just couldn’t resist.”

“So, then, you – you’re attracted to me, too?” Sirius questions.  

James nods as he moves to their couch.  

“For how long?” Sirius questions as he sits opposite him.

“Remember when I broke up with Lily?”

“That was two years ago,” Sirius states, and James makes a face.

“Yeah, I – er – I realized that I didn’t want to spend as much time with her as I did you, and that you are one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen, and you just have the most kissable lips…”

James moves closer to him, evidently wanting to kiss him, again.

Sirius stops him.  “We can kiss in a minute.  Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I – well – you were dating one of the players from another team, and I signed onto the Puddlemere team with the idea that I stayed single so I’d draw in a crowd and – and I didn’t think you – one of the most eligible bachelors in the country – would want to me, I guess.”  James pauses.  “And I didn’t want to risk ruining what we have.”

Sirius groans.  “I guess that makes sense given that I didn’t either.”

“And I would’ve said something if I thought you were into me, but you – you never showed interest until the date auction came up and I thought – well, you’re always obvious with your plans, so you’d get the date and I’d be able to, you know… feel you out,” James offers.  “I mean, it did work well, right?  You said I was Merlin’s gift to men and – and you were acting weird, so I thought –”

James pauses and searches Sirius eyes.  “You do want to be with me, don’t you?”

Sirius nods, so relieved and happy.  “I do – I do, James.  I want nothing more than to be with you.”

“Good, then, let’s start this relationship off with a real date.  You and me, tomorrow night?” James questions, a happy grin on his face.

“I’d love to,” Sirius smiles.  “But only if I get to spend tonight snogging you.”

“Deal.”

[taleya15]

The pirate and the street rat

With Halloween rushing in, Aurdon was buzzing with glee. Far and wide were very excited for this event. Including the “core four” and the pirate crew. Mal, Evie and Jane already had their costumes. They were going as the girl chipmunks in Alvin the chipmunks, whatever they’re called. While Jay on the other hand… completely blanked. He had no idea what he was going to be he knew it’d be simple and nothing to exciting but still. No idea, so when the day came Jay had simply shrugged and grabbed his favorite clothes from the Isle.

He was a “street thief” he had decided, the only addition to this costume was Jay adding just a tiny bit of eyeliner. He “borrowed” from Carlos who had warned Jay in advance he wasn’t going to be in there dorm room that night. So it’s not like he’d notice right? Jay goes through the day mostly uneventful, just flirting with some chicks or some dudes here and there. Well until the Halloween party that is. Somehow Mal had convinced King Ben to throw a Halloween party. Which almost all of Arodon was attending, including the pirate crew.

Now the four and the pirates got along now, hell Gil and Jay even went on a gap year together. Which may or may not have led to them hooking up once, or ten times in that year. But there’s still one person on that crew that Jay couldn’t stand. Harry hook. He just always finds something, that one thing that can make Jay go from perfectly fine to punching a wall. So when Harry makes his attendance known at the party. Jay can’t help but groan out in annoyance. Harry is dressed in a very fitting pirate costume, with some clothes he had while others he “borrowed” from his dad.

Harry walked causally to the group with a way to sharp to be plastic sword on his hip. “El’lo maties!” All members except Jay acknowledged Harry with a small hello or other greeting. While Jay walked away claiming to need a drink. No one but Harry even batted an eye at him. But Harry wasn’t like the others, he didn’t know when to quit. Or shut up, all he knew was he got whatever he wanted. And he wanted Jay, after hearing all the stories from Gil about their year together, innocent and non innocent alike Harry had a new target in mind. Jay.

He wanted him, in any way he can get him. He didn’t care if all he’d receive was an eye roll, or a shove, he wouldn’t even mind a punch to the face. As long as it came from Jay, it was pathetic he knew of course. But he’s always been like that even on the isle. He’d beg in one way or another for anyone’s attention. His mother is as good as dead, while his father pretends Harry’s dead from time to time. So Harry was left to find any attention elsewhere, first with Uma, then Gil, until finally Jay. He’s the only one who doesn’t give him any kind of attention.

Good or bad. Which Harry hates even more than a punch in the gut. So when Jay walks away from the group, Harry can’t help but follow him. He follows him all the way to the bar area. Then he strikes. “Soooo, J.J. what are ye supposed to be?” Jay instantly rolls his eyes, and takes a chug from his drink. “Don’t call me that.” Harry smirks and repeats his question. “I ask ye again, what’re ye supposed to be?” Jay responds dryly already annoyed with the conversation. “Street thief.” Harry laughs out hard instantly and has to hold on to his stomach afterwards. “Ye do have some experience in that field.”

Jay rolls his eyes again and finishes off his drink, waiting until the happy buzz finally hits him. “Oh yeah? What are you supposed to be?” Harry smiles and shrugs before answering. “A pirate.” “How original Hook.” Jay’s voice is dripping with sarcasm and annoyance. While Harry is enjoying every single second of his undivided attention. “Yes, yes. I know you’re the all powerful street rat. We know.” Harry’s teasing now voice laced in amusement. Jay attacks instantly, he’s gripping on Harry’s to lose shirt, picking him up off his feet and glaring daggers into his soul. “What did you just call me?” Harry’s brain stopped completely, at the close contact between them barely able to answer Jay afterwards.

“Street rat. You know, like what ye’r old man called Aladdin before he became king. Then of course ye old man made you a street rat.” He shouldn’t have said that. Any of it he knew he should’ve just shut up. But when the fire suddenly flashes in Jays eyes, he suddenly doesn’t care about what he shouldn’t do. One thing about Jay, he’s always been strong. He was the strongest man on the isle then he only got bigger when he could work out in Aroradon. So shoving Harry down with his bare hands? That’s child’s play to him “never. And I mean never insult me, or my father ever again Hook. Ever.”

Jay stormed out instantly needing to second to breathe and calm himself down. Harry was in a very similar position, laying on the floor just trying to catch his breath. After what felt like the wind was knocked out of him. When he regained his composure, he realized he felt weird. He glanced down, and fuck! He somehow managed to get a boner. Harry basically ran back to his room, he knew what he wanted. What he was going to do, he needed a rush. And if Harry can’t get that rush from drugs and alcohol right now, this rush is perfect for him.

Harry quickly shed his shirt and jacket off. As long as his sword, leaving his pants on. Planning to go back to the party as soon as this issue has been resolved. He simply unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down as well as his underwear. He licked at his hand slightly to get it wet and stroked his cock. His brain filled with images and videos of Jay. How he looks after tourney practice, how his breath hit his cheek just now. How easily Jay was able to pick him up like he weighed nothing.

Then finally the flame in his eyes when he was angry. That image got Harry to go faster and whimper just a little louder. Unknown to Harry, Jay himself was listening just outside his door. He was originally just going to finish the job and beat his ass. But now? He was invested in a way he hates that he is. He wanted Harry to continue for an unknown reason. As Harry gets closer and closer to his high, he grows louder with every given minute. Until finally he’s chanting “Jay” over and over again like a prayer.

Leaving Jay conflicted by his own feelings. If he hates the guy so much, why couldn’t he walk away? Later when Harry rejoins the party, Jay can’t make eye contact with the pirate. But for some reason can’t let him leave his sight either. What’s happening to him?

[eyes-onthehorizon]

The Old Guard Provide... Leverage

chapter 1

Four

defective [dɪfektɪv]

Word forms: adjective

If something is defective, there is something wrong with it and it does not work properly.

(“Y’know Tig, there’s just summat wrong wiv ya.”

“That’s not true! You can’t say that!”

“Oh yeah? Says who?”)

Andromache was quickly approaching the point of disliking all people, her younger brothers included. The two of them had been at it for hours, and the banging had reached an unbearable volume.

After another minute of mentally disembowelling them, she hauled herself out of bed and stalked through to the main room.

“If you two don’t cut that out right this very fucking instant I swear to every God I’ve ever known I will pluck your bastard eyeballs out with a shitting cleaver-ended spoon and THEN—”

She stopped dead in her tracks as she caught sight of their guest.

As a rule, Andy tried not to swear in front of children. She achieved this mostly by avoiding them. Unless they were in danger. The mop of red hair toothily grinning at her from atop the mantelpiece was not in danger, but was very much enjoying Andy’s little hangover-fueled tirade. Andy decided she didn’t care. Thoroughly distracted, she missed the amused look that passed between her unnecessarily loud brothers.

“Good evening, Lady A. I got you some lemon-honey tea which is what Bean always has after he’s been out on the lash – I mean, silence is better but these two,” she cocked her head towards Yusuf and Nico, “Got it into their heads that if I’m gonna sleep here then I should have a bed. I told them that really wasn’t necessary, Bean’s got more than enough floorspace to put up the whole of Cheapside should he want to, he’s always off acquiring and gathering spaces, y’know? Anyways Mr Kayson says that if I’m gonna fall asleep here anyways then I should have a bed and I said I don’t need his charity but then he offered me a job, see, so then I guess I should probably be here given I don’t always wake up in the same place when I’m with Bean’s lot and that’s very unreliable for a shop girl, innit? I know lemon-honey is more for sore throat, really you’d want mint or chamomile for the head but that was all I could find. Is that okay?”

The girl paused expectantly. The silence rang in Andy’s ears a little, but at least the hammer and saw were finally resting.

Andy, taken aback and more than a little annoyed at Yusuf’s shit-stirring grin, simply thanked her for the tea.

Tig was small for her age and faster than any child had the right to be. She’d deftly pocketed quite a bit of the coinage they all carried, and savoured the adult’s reactions when she handed it back to them. Mr Kayson had put her to work watching the shop floor and had promised her reading lessons along with her wages.

“I can read just fine,” she’d protested at his first offer, until he handed her an enormous ledger and began talking her through the stock maintenance. He’d rifled through the information and Tig could feel her brain developing holes instead of thoughts. She’d been so disgusted with herself that she’d found her way into the attic, hanging upside down in the rafters until Mr Guvnor had come to join her.

Tig was used to people finding her strange. She didn’t mind too often but being left to your own devices all the time was boring. It wasn’t her fault she could climb and pick and run better than most boys, but the faster she got, the less they liked her. It didn’t matter if she toned it down or shared her loot, they never actually wanted to be friends. It’d taken Bean explaining that she wasn’t likeable for her to understand – there was nothing she could do. It wasn’t her fault; she was just made broken. Like a train line with a faulty track.

Adults, though, they were something else. They never said what they meant, calling her “sweet” or “poor thing” but never actually helping. They never actually talked to her unless she was in trouble, or they wanted something. Even then, they usually talked to Bean or Mac. She’d just nod in the corner.

Mr Kayson was… nice was not the right word. Maybe kind would be better, but who would be kind to an urchin? A thieving urchin, one who had been trespassing for months. And then he’d offered her a job and built her a bed. Not normal behaviour at all, but Tig wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Yet.

Mr Guvnor was more straightforward, she’d thought, except he also turned out different. He was quiet, like she tried to be, and watchful, which she admired. He was also strange like her, which she figured out only when he was hanging upside down beside her.

“What are you doing?” Tig demanded, sounding an awful lot like those stuffy nannies she heard from the stories. “You can’t do that!”

“Come, sole, if you can then so can I, hmm?” He didn’t even look at her. They stayed there for a while, he enjoying her company, she working out how exactly she was going to get down.

“The plan has four phases,” Nico announced over dinner. “Sorella, you will go first and set the scene. I will go after, offering my business services to the estate. Tesoro, you’ll need to coordinate with Bas from here. I have the rest of the strategy, but I need to speak with Miss Jones first.”

“Who’s Miss Jones?” yawned Tig, mopping up the last of her gravy.

“Someone we’re helping.”

Children really shouldn’t look adorable when they’re suspicious, Andy decided.

“Like you’re helping me?” She directed the question at Yusuf, her tone accusatory.

Yusuf sighed, propping his face up with his palm. “Sagir, You are helping me. You are running the shop. I pay you for your work. I don’t see what this has to—”

“And building me a bed from scratch?”

“I like building things.” Yusuf shrugged good-naturedly.

“And the free reading lessons? What about them?”

“Ahh,” he wagged his finger knowingly, “Those are not free.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he crossed his arms and leaned contentedly back in his chair. Well. She’d find out the debt she owed him, and make damn sure she repaid it. At least he wasn’t perfect like she’d feared.

Tig wasn’t disappointed. Not at all.

Phase One was simple enough.

Andy would pose as a Botreaux sister, visiting the Scottish countryside in search of a Northern property and on behalf of the Emporium.

“Patronising a shop in London is exactly the quirky, eccentric, ill-advised thing someone with too much money would do,” Yusuf had argued as they’d put together her story. “It fits perfectly.”

Andy thought it was ridiculous, but she could see his point. Some had spent more on less.

The Botreaux sisters were reclusive even amongst the upper set. While such social reluctance typically bred mystery, they had somehow achieved the impossible: invisibility. At least, until their remaining male relative passed without an heir and the barony fell into abeyance, at which point their story had travelled throughout the country quicker than anyone expected.

None of the sisters had come forward in some time, and no one even knew how many still lived, which suited their job down to the ground.

Bas and Yusuf spent the next month creating a viable replica of Giotto’s bell tower sketch for Florence Cathedral. It auctioned for a very healthy sum, and within the blink of an eye, Andy was kitted out with the fancies and fineries befitting a newly wealthy woman.

It was a cold winter’s morning when Andromeda Botreaux, enigmatic beauty, began her first foray into society. They’d interviewed for and hired a real footman and coachman, but had struggled for a lady’s maid. It wasn’t until Martha had offered to go herself that everything fell into place. All being well, they’d send for Nico within a day, but the journey time meant they’d be stuck outside Aberdeen for at least three more before he arrived.

Andy had packed a spare set of knives for the journey. She flicked open the leather roll, intent on inspecting the condition of each. Martha flinched at the sight of them, recoiling into the corner of the carriage.

“Breathe,” Andy murmured.

The carriage jostled, the movement pulling a shriek from her.

“Martha. I am not going to hurt you. This,” Andy gestured towards the knife, “Is for you. Just in case.” She leaned forward, ever so slowly, tracking the younger woman’s breathing; taking her hand, she could feel her pulse racing. Andy fought the impulse to press a kiss to her wrist. It had been second nature with her—void. Instead, Andy opened Martha’s palm, met her eyes, and pressed the handle of the dagger into her hand.

“Do you know how to use this?”

Martha hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.

“Show me.”

Martha’s knifework was sloppy, but they had three days to work on that. In the meantime, they discussed the least treacherous part of their lives: the future. Martha had big plans for a girl from Cheapside; she was planning to create fashionable waterproofs, scarves in particular. She’d even scouted out the factories she was going to buy from.

“I’m dead handy with a needle,” she said warmly. “Mam said I could make magic from scraps.” Andy did not miss the moment of grief that passed over her face, freshly worn out like an ancestor’s favourite blanket. “But my father couldn’t put food on the table by himself, so I got to work like everyone else. And I was proud of it.”

The silence was full of things unsaid.

“But this shop is going to be your way forward?” Andy prompted. No need to ruminate on the past, on what was lost. That way lies madness, Bas had said in a moment of hashish-inspired clarity. Better to look forward. Forward, forward. The only direction she knew anymore.

Besides, there wasn’t nearly enough whiskey in this carriage to begin to numb the pain.

Martha was looking at her expectantly, so she must have missed whatever was said. Andy rubbed a hand over her face. “Once more, please?”

[leebrontide]

Thanks to @dogmomwrites for tagging me in the word find game!

I am not going to tag anyone because it's been a minute and I can't keep track of whose doing tag games right now and who isn't. Please, if you like being taged in #writeblr ask games, can you let me know? I want to tag you in things!

My words were empty, shrug, hesitate, escape, and moment. I did it for my WIP Names in Their Blood.

Empty:

It wasn’t till they got to the basement that xe noticed that the security camera and the electrical panel were both open. But just as xe started to worry about what that meant Libby grabbed xyr hand, and started off down the hall on silent bare feet. Yael focused on being quiet. There was another series of windowless, empty hallways, which felt no less surreal for their featurelessness. There were voices behind some the doors, muffled, businesslike and tired. Libby wove them both though odd patterns that Yael eventually realized was dodging cameras. It seemed natural to sneak around this place. There was nobody here whose attention xe wanted.

Shrug:

Issac’s expression sobered. “Did she seem shorter? Wait, none of you are gonna be useful. Mom- was Jenna shorter?”

Mom came out, dislodging Issac from the doorway. “She’s actually back to her original height. The Bion limbs were taller than her original ones.”

“Why?” Jamie demanded. Bad enough Jenna had been pressured into giving up her superpowered limbs in favor of industry standard ones. Worse when Jamie remembered that it was mom who had pressured her.

Mom shrugged. “She designed them that way, not me. I have no interest in policing her height. She didn’t like the timing but she’d always planned to have retirement limbs, just like Neil.”

“Why would she want to be shorter?”

“It’s got some advantages.” Yael offered, trying to sit in a little plush chair next to a polished table and book shelf.

It…did not work.

Hesitate:

She reached, but hesitated, not touching Yael’s hand. She only had the flimsiest looking clear gloves between herself and everything broken and violent in Yael.

She took Yael’s hands in hers, and they were still warm and gentle and strong. They felt realer than anything except xyr pounding heart. Yael wanted to cling to them, but tried to keep xyr hands pliant for whatever Rue could think to do.

Yael’s eyes widened further as Rue wiped away some of the exoskeleton, more of xyr so easily taken away.

Escape:

“Ms Tillman-Voss-“ he continued, in weighty tones. “I have been meaning to speak with you.”

Jamie wanted to step backwards again, but towards what- Jenna? The team wasn’t standing behind her this time.

And the street was empty as far as she could see.

One step wouldn’t make a difference, so she decided not to look like a coward.

But it was probably better not to volunteer too much. “Ok.”

For some reason this seemed to amuse him, which annoyed her. “It has not escaped my notice that every time something of note is happening, you manage to be right in the thick of it.”

Ah, she was just going to get told off for sticking her nose in.

She should demure, talk about how it was all accidental, wrong place wrong time, etc. Make it clear she wasn’t trying to be anything she could never be, avoid the derision and condescension that would come with anyone thinking she had impossible dreams.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Moment:

Sitting put xyr face on a level with the mirror. Xe’d smeared blood on xyr face and through xyr scraggly tangled hair- xe hadn’t showered last night after getting home. The person in the reflection looked feral and untrustworthy. Someone you’d protect the frail and injured from.

No, this was fine. It was only a bit of xyr own blood.

Xe tore xyr eyes away, forced xyr breathing to even out, and scrubbed xyr face with a clean edge and xyr shirt. After a moment’s hesitation xe wadded the shirt up as small as it’d go and kicked it under the bed for now.

[llixulia]

Arroth meets with his sister after a long time.

It had started as a relatively good and calm morning in the suburbs. A strange thing, but it happened sometimes. Arroth had been searching for pieces for his ship to make it better, and now that he had them, he had returned to it.

He was working on it when he heard people talking outside. One of the voices he knew and respected, the other… he absolutely detested. A frown crossed his face, sliding from under the ship to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Fuck. He should have stayed under the ship. In fact, why the heck shouldn’t he? If he ignored her, maybe she’d leave.

He could hear her slithering inside the hangar, only stopping when she was right next to the ship. “…”-he ignored her, still working. He doubted it’d work, but who knew?

“Are you going to keep ignoring me or can I talk to you?”-asked his sister. Aaand of course it wouldn’t.

“You lost the right to talk to me the moment you sided with our mother.”-he said, still tinkering and not bothering to even look her direction.

“I was young and nai-”-she started.

“Don’t give me that shit. You helped her beat the crap out of me when I was nothing more than a child, and all because I was different from you. You, the ‘lucky’ one who look like her, and me, the one whose body resembled that of my father’s. At least he never beat me.”

“He wasn’t even around-”

He smirked, even though he wasn’t amused. “Seeing how she beat me, I’m not surprised. Who’d want to be with that bitch? I’m surprised he even got her pregnant in the first place. I don’t know how he lasted that long.”-he chuckled. “But I digress. Leave me alone and never return.”

“No.”-she said.

Finally annoyed, he slid from under the ship and stood up, glaring at her. “Get. Out.”-he hissed.

She breathed deeply, her claws clenching, knowing his reaction to her words wouldn’t be good. “Our mother knows.”

“Knows what?”-he asked, now nonchalantly.

“About that female you hang out with.”-she said softly. “And how you feel about her.”

The wrench he was holding fell. “…”-He tried to hold back the rage. “Tell her to stay the fuck away from Zaihnaeth. She has nothing to do with this. We’re friends, nothing else.”-he growled. Sure, he had feelings for said friend, but he’d never tell her.

“She had a message for you.”-she continued. “'Remember your place… Or else.'”

He breathed deeply. “So… It wasn’t enough to almost beat me to death back then. She now wants to control my life. Well, I’m sorry. I’m not that helpless child anymore.”-his eyes hardened. “Tell her if she dares put a hand on my friend, I will personally kill her, consequences be damned.”

Surprisingly, instead of getting angry, his sister smiled slightly. “Glad she didn’t break your spirit.”

“Don’t you mean, ‘we’? She wasn’t the only one.”-he said, deciding the conversation was over and sliding down the ship again. “Get out.”

“I know. I know it won’t make things better, but… For all that’s worth, Arroth… I’m sorry for what I did.”-she muttered, and left.

“You’re going to need way more than that to earn my forgiveness… sister.”-he said after she was gone.

[starzfield]

Reluctant patients happened quite often, if just for a while. Patience was a skill he mastered through years of being the older, reliable siblings, as well as helping at the bakery, which meant handling customers. It probably was an innate talent for him, even if he trained it.

Of course Lukan had to pay it somehow - every full moon night, specifically. 

He knew better than to be annoyed or pushy at someone like Nunnally. Further since he could see some bits of shared traits between tem. Getting her angry was the last thing he wanted, despite being aware a part of this woman wished for him to feed her anger and give her a reason to hate him and leave.

Not showing more than polite interest, the therapist nodded, thoughtful. “Classic, but good choice. I did enjoy Alice in Wonderlands a lot.”

An amused smile showed up again. “Though as a therapist, it’s a book that always sends my mind into a lot of hypotheses, if I let myself be distracted from the simple pleasure of reading. Not that it spoils the joy to read it.”

The topic of dating and flirting had been one of his biggest struggles when he first started to work, but by now Lukan was way better at handling it.

“It’s true it’s unethical, but it’s the short answer. Since you want the detailed one…”

He finished the last sip of his cup, before putting it down on the nearest table, crossing his hands on his laps.

“Je ne souhaite pas sortir avec l’un de mes patients. Even if it was allowed and ethical, I think you can’t really give the best, professional care and treatment if you’re distracted by your own feelings and the other’s. Not that you can’t help someone you’re dating, mental health wise - but I think I can give way better help if I am not sentimentally involved.”

A soft sigh, and the smile he offered her then was a little sad, a little sorry. “Therapy is not always nice, and often hard. Sometimes it hurts, even. I’m afraid feelings would prevent me from giving a treatment, because I’d know it’d be painful and I can’t handle facing the consequences. Even if I know the result will eventually be positive.”

The emotion on his face changed, turning more amused. “I suppose you could say… I’m the type to be too weak in front of the requests coming from the people I love. I’m lucky my dog is a good girl and doesn’t ask for snacks constantly… My siblings however sure took advantage of that fact more than once.”

His eyebrow raised then, head tilting slightly. “Cette réponse vous satisfait-elle Mademoiselle ?”

The next part got a light shake of his head however. “I’m afraid I have to disagree. As rough as it sounds, I easily believe you’d have trouble escaping your grandmother. But I could have just said no to her, and she would have had to find another therapist - which, obviously, wouldn’t have changed much for you I suppose. But if you decide to put an end to your therapy, I’ll simply tell her so. I could tell her you do not, in fact, need therapy, but she seems like the kind of person who believes only the words she decided to believe.”

His smile was warm when speaking again. “I appreciate your efforts. I promise I will not try to work on things that do not need to be worked on, no matter what some people think. I can’t tell yet if you actually need therapy or not, we’ll have to wait and see.”

Her game suggestion was welcomed with his eyebrows shooting up, this time a little surprised by her words. “Pourquoi pas. Let’s see. For the obvious, you’re here because your grandmother sent you and somehow, you couldn’t say no. I am unsure why, however. The easiest guess would be that you live with her, and so depend on her for roof and money. It could also be that she holds some power over you…”

His amber eyes studied her, gears spinning in his mind. “You could be here because you wanted to please her, but I don’t feel like you have a deep affection for her. You said people can’t say no to her, so you either don’t like to fight and prefer to go along, or she does have some way to force you to do things. Which could be just the threat to kick you out of the house, as I stated before.”

He leaned back in his armchair, gaze wandering aimlessly in the room for a moment. “As to why she sent you, it seems to be like she thinks you aren’t a proper little lady, or something similar.”

A chuckle found his way through his lips. “Honestly, it mostly sounded to me like ‘make her obedient’. Am I wrong ?”

For the first time since the beginning of the session, some annoyance crossed his features, sipping in his voice, even. “Which I disapprove of. Furthermore at your age. Nothing she told me reflected a need for you to follow therapy nor to change your behavior.”

The annoyance was fast gone however, and the therapist was smiling at her again in a knowing way. “I suppose I’m going to disappoint your grandmother.”

It may be a far-stretched guess, but he suspected said disappointment was a thing the woman in front of her was used to being the target of.

If it wouldn't be the first time Lukan attracted a patient’s interest, nor had one sent to him by family. It would be a first however that a family sent someone in hope they’d date him ! He smiled softly at the woman’s reassurance. It didn’t matter much if it was authentic or not, but it was nice of her to try.

His smile widened at the affirmation, understanding. “I was quite the bookworm rather than a social butterfly at school, I assure you. I don’t think there is anything wrong with enjoying books - but I suppose my choice of career shows that I do care about people. I keep books for my free time now.”

Some patients prefered to talk about themselves, others to do exactly the opposite. And with the ones brought here against their will, it was usually the latter. And he considered it was only logical to offer some intel about yourself when you asked such from the person in front of you.

“What kind of book do you enjoy ?”

It’s not just for chatting, he’s genuinely curious - and it usually gives some information on someone. The coffee was good because since he didn’t enjoy it as much as tea, he at least wanted a good one.

“Popular ?” He carefully raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Lukan didn’t have to complain about finding patients, his agenda was quite busy. His… Dating life was a little complicated, and a topic he usually didn’t bring with patients - it was a slippery rope. 

“My patients are pretty happy with me being their therapist, I’d say.”

The next words didn’t give space for him to pretend it wasn’t about his love life, however.

Not a first for him, though, and his smile was patient.

“I do not date my patients. Je suis navré, mademoiselle.”

It was still a mix of pleasant and fun to slip some french in the conversation. Except with his family, or when he gave a hand at the bakery, he didn’t speak french much. But he had grown up in France in his youth, before moving out, and today he was fluent in both english and french. A light accent even betrayed his origin when he spoke english actually.

Lukan could see on her face that the question wasn’t welcome. It didn’t deter the therapist, who didn’t go back. He even looked slightly amused by her answer.

“We both know that.”

He simply said at first, letting his words sink.

“I’m always aware, when someone - here, your grandmother - sends a relative, further a younger relative, to see me, that the person I’ll have in front of me does not want to be here.”

His amber eyes were sparkling a bit from amusement.

“You’re not the first sent to me who didn’t want to. And with therapy, you can’t work with someone unwilling.”

Of course he was aware of how the woman’s presence in his office made no sense then, and kept going. “When it happens…” His eyes were staring at her, focused. “I still accept the person to come here. Because usually, it does mean there are reasons for them to follow therapy… Though rarely the ones given by the person who took the appointment for them.”

His lips curled as if he was sharing a joke - and Lukan kind of was. He basically said he was having doubts about the reasons her grandmother thought Nunnally needed therapy.

“I didn’t accept you as a patient to fulfill your grandmother’s wishes. I did it so you could have help if you did need it, and else maybe some kind of… Break ? From… Everything, I guess. You could also simply vent to me - everything you say to me is under secrecy, even from your family.” He lifted his cup at her, as if some kind of salute. “I have to warn you however, I can’t eternally offer you shelter - my job is to help people with therapy, not just hide them from a nosy relative.” An amused smile again. “But I suppose two or three sessions can’t hurt. The final decision is yours however, mademoiselle.”

[rinnelovebot]

hello March, hope you're doing well! another Rinne ask here BUT I just can't stop thinking about him catching his s/o off-guard with a kabedon (wall slam)... paired up with his daredevil's confidence and love of flustering his s/o it just seems like a perfect gesture for him!! may I have some crumbs of thought on this from a fellow Rinne enjoyer?? maybe even a small scenario if you're up for it (灬º‿º灬)♡

A/N: me? Posting two Rinne pieces in a row? It’s more likely than you’d think. Also, WAHAHAHAJSJDKDOMDKDK… I LOVE RINNE AMAGI. This got a little long, so I put it under a cut !! Also to Jay and Bee, thank you for inspiring me to hop on this ! This turned out kind of ,,, ehhh,,, but, I thought it was worth posting anyway. Lord have mercy this is the longest thing I’ve ever posted on here. (Anon: “small scenario” .. me: “..small?”)

*ೃ༄ Rinne Amagi kabedoning his s/o

You loved Rinne, truly. More than anything in the universe, one could argue. If you didn’t love him as much as you did, you wouldn’t be able to handle his ridiculous antics so well. You’ve grown used to dealing with his sometimes aggravating personality and habits—it’s all apart of what makes him him, after all.

But that didn’t stop you from getting annoyed with him sometimes.

Usually, you didn’t have to worry about your boyfriend distracting you during your workdays, due to him having practice with his unit. But unfortunately for you, it had been cancelled for the day. Himeru had come down with a cold, and Kohaku was “taking care of urgent matters” within his other unit, Double Face. Niki had seen no point in just the two of them rehearsing, so they had collectively decided to put a pin in practicing for the day.

Obviously, Rinne had nothing better to do. He didn’t exactly have any money to burn playing Pachinko, thus, he decided on clinging to you for the day—which is where your plight began.

So now, here you were, your red haired boyfriend trailing behind you wherever you went, following you across Ensemble Square.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly agitated. You enjoyed his company and all, but not when you had places to be, and a large workload to be taken care of. He could sense your annoyance right off the bat, but pestering you was all apart of the fun. Plus, you couldn’t be too mad at him, right?

It’d be one thing if he was just following along as you completed your duties, but he wanted you to pay attention to him, huffing and pouting each time you insisted upon him not smothering you with his affections right now.

You sighed for the nth time, gently removing his arm from over your shoulder as the two of you continued to walk, your boyfriend walking at a much lazier pace than you.

“Heeey, what was that for?” He whined, “Y’know, babe, I’m kinda gettin’ the impression that you don’t want me around right now~♪”

You knew he wasn’t truly hurt over it, and that he knew you were busy—which made his words even more annoying to you. He could be so childish when he felt like it.

“It’s not that…” You sighed, looking at him over your shoulder as you continued down one of the long hallways of Ensemble Square. “It’s just… you couldn’t have picked a better time? I can give you all the attention you want when I get off, Rinne…” You really didn’t understand why he kept it up. It wasn’t like you were giving him any particularly amusing reactions, so you really didn’t see why he was so seemingly entertained by all this.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Rinne answered, his voice laced with complete and utter amusement. “You know I’m impatient, kyaha!”

You were almost at your breaking point. As much as you adored your boyfriend, you could only take so much distraction before your annoyance boiled over into full-blown anger. And as you felt him take your hand for the final time, you whipped around, ready to give him a firm talking to.

Except, you found yourself in an odd position—pushed up against a wall, Rinne holding the hand he had taken in his own above your head, too stunned to say a word. Your mouth left gaping, and your eyes wide. Your face felt unimaginably hot as you realized your situation.

“C’mon, don’t look at me like that, sweetheart…” Rinne teased, bright blue eyes staring right into your own. “Gotta make ya’ pay me some attention somehow, right?” He chuckled, relishing in how you squirmed within his hold. God, he loved how utterly flustered you could get from the simplest of actions.

“Rinne, what the hell are you thinking…?!” You whispered harshly, trying your best to escape his grips on your waist and wrist. Your words lacked any bite whatsoever—you were far too embarrassed to sound any level of angry. All you could do was continue to squirm and try your hardest to avoid his gaze, lest you become more flustered, if that was even possible at this point. “Seriously, you’re so annoying! Let me go!”

“Sure, sure. Buuut, I have one condition.”

“God, fine! What is it?!”

“Ya gotta kiss me first, dollface.”

He was seriously going to be the death of you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him with complete and utter annoyance in your eyes, huffing. “Geez, really? You really get on my nerves, Rinne…”

The red head let out a breathy chuckle, as if to say ‘I know’. The next thing you knew, his lips were passionately pressed against yours, your bodies lacking any distance from one another. His kiss made your head spin, and he only pushed you into the wall harder. You were almost lightheaded.

You found yourself missing the feeling of his lips upon yours as he pulled away, gently letting you go and backing away, a wide, prideful smirk on his face. “Well, I’ll piss off now that I got what I came for. Love ya.”

Was he serious? He tortured you for hours upon hours because he wanted a singular kiss? You couldn’t wrap your head around why he chose to be so difficult at the most inopportune times.

If Rinne was being honest with himself, he definitely wanted a few more kisses. But leaving you longing for another kiss was amusing, so he’d suffer until you got off of work. It was fine. As Rinne walked away from you, he decided that he’d make up for leaving you high and dry once you got home.

[iaal]

Hisoka reacting to his normally shy and submissive s/o trying to take control during sex? 💖 Your writing does terrible things to me!

My Hisoka brain rot was too strong tonight and I wanted to write something. I had the WIP for this one for like more than a year in my WIP folder and finally finished it.

You knew he wouldn’t be shocked by your request. Maybe say no, probably tease you, but you felt comfortable enough to ask. Or at least try to.

For a while now you had everything you needed prepared, you thought that when the moment was right you could naturally bring the subject. The moment never came. Either you were too embarrassed or Hisoka already had a plan on how your time together would be spent and you’d end up getting swayed by whatever he wanted to do. Not this time.

It wasn’t anything to be proud of but drinking half a bottle of wine did wonder in helping you gather your courage. You picked up your phone and started typing a text, not brave enough to actually use your voice to ask him.

‘Are you free tonight?’ The text was innocuous enough but your heart was already beating fast. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or apprehension.

Hisoka didn’t make you wait long, ‘Missing me already?’

Answering a question with a question as usual, and as annoying as ever. You saw him only two days ago and he told you he would stay for at least a week in town, you didn’t know what his business was but he never seemed particularly busy so you’d hope he’d be available on short notice.

‘You can say that’, it never hurts to coax him a little with what he wanted to hear, ‘There’s something I’d like to try with you.’ Appealing to his curiosity always helped to.

His next text was sent almost immediately after yours. ‘Oh? Do tell ♦’

‘Are you free or not?’ You took another sip of wine, if this conversation continued like this you’ll finish the whole bottle before he gives you a straight answer. Even a simple yes or no question become complicated with him.

‘I can be, it depends on what you have in mind’

You paused, searching for you words and started typing before deleting and typing again. You did the same thing for a couple of minutes, positive Hisoka was amused watching your indecision. Finally you decided a picture was better to convey what you had planned. Opening your closet you grabbed your latest acquisitions and put them on the bed, displaying the silk handcuffs, ball gag and blindfold before snapping a picture. You hesitated half a second before sending it, you’d feel even more silly to get cold feet after teasing him.

‘You should have told me sooner you wanted to be tied up. You wouldn’t have needed to bother with your little toys ♥.’ You didn’t understood what he meant by that, however the problem was that he missed the main point.

‘No, it’s for you.’

That was it, you told him. Now you just had to wait for his reaction. Hisoka was always the one taking charge in bed so you weren’t sure if he’d go along with what you wanted. Nevertheless he also seemed like the type to have tried everything. It could go both way.

Minutes stretched and no answer, but he did read your message. You were starting to get nervous, it’d have been fine if he had just refused, it was the wait that was killing you. You poured yourself another glass of wine, if you had to spend your night feeling awkward at least you should be properly drunk.

Half an hour after your last text your phone screen finally lit up, ‘What’s in for me?’ You reread his message again and again not really seeing where he was getting at.

‘If you’re not interested just say so.’ Vexed by Hisoka playing with you, you shoot another message; ‘Forget it’ and put your phone away.

The sound of the front door opening woke you up completely. Sitting straighter you turned you neck to see if you imagined the sound, it wasn’t like you to not lock your door when you were alone, but Hisoka appearing beside you distracted you for that last thought.

It’s not like you didn’t like when Hisoka was in charge, quite the contrary, but you just wanted to try something new for the both of you to have fun and there’s no point in it if he saw that as a transaction.

Sulking, you grabbed the remote, in a mood for some trashy TV, and decided to follow the advice you gave Hisoka and just forget about ever making the request. It was pretty late already and alcohol helping, you dozed off on the couch.

“Looks like you were enjoying your night~” He picked up your almost empty glass and poured wine for himself, drinking slowly before making himself comfortable on the couch with you.

“Hisoka?” You rubbed your eyes and looked at the time, it has been less than an hour since you sent your last message. So he was free after all. “Why are you here?” you slurred, alcohol affecting you more than you thought.

“I had the feeling you were sulking,” he gently grabbed you hand and guided your fingers to his mouth, nibbling and kissing them. “And I wanted to hear more about your suggestion.” His lips moved to the inside of your wrist, trailing up your forearm, igniting your already hot skin with every touch.

“You weren’t interested,” you said, instinctively giving him better access when he reached your neck.

“I’ve never said that,” Hisoka corrected, pausing his kisses, his hands hooking up your shirt to rest on your waist.

In the background the TV was still playing the reality show you were watching, Hisoka turned his attention to it when the contestants started arguing, chuckling when one of them threw a nasty insult.

“You didn’t answer,” he added, his thumbs drawing circles on your hips but his eyes glued on the quarrel. The insulted contestant snapped and screamed, a fight about to break but someone intervened to separate them. Hisoka returned his attention to you, his hands gliding toward your chest. “What’s in for me?”

You really weren’t in a state to make a pitch sale, feeling dizzy with the wine and Hisoka caresses and still annoyed that he would treat your proposition as a favor. “I told you to just forget it. You wouldn’t be bargaining if you were really tempted.”

Hisoka picked the handcuffs, turning them around in his hands for a moment before turning his attention to the ball gag. The silence was awkward, well awkward for you, he seemed engrossed in his scrutiny of your new toys.

One rejection was enough for one night, you wanted to drop the subject and just forget about your attempt at being bold.

With a final kiss on your neck Hisoka moved away from you and walked to your room. Not sure what he had in mind you got up and followed him. Heat rose to your cheeks when you saw him inspecting the toys still laid on your bed. The mood was definitely not right for the display.

“Like I said, it’s fine if you’re not interested,” you said when you couldn’t stand the silence anymore. You moved to take the gag out of his hands but he held it out of reach above his head.

“And like I said, I’ve never said I wasn’t,” he retorted. He threw the gag back with the rest and sit on the bed legs crossed. Looking at you in the eyes with a slight smile he explained, “I could lay down and pretend to be restrained by your cute handcuffs,” as he spoke he reached for you, taking your wrist in his hand and pulling you toward him, “but would it be fun for me? For you?”

Hisoka uncrossed his legs and you let him guide you to sit on his lap. “When I’m asking what’s in for me,” he continued in a soft voice, slowly removing your top. “I’m asking how are you going to make it interesting.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. It’s not like you thought it would be mind blowing, but you didn’t imagine he’d find it boring. No, if you were honest with yourself you thought he was finding you boring already. You’d be the first to admit that you were pretty vanilla before meeting him, it hasn’t been long since you two started to see each others but it was painfully obvious that he has experienced way more than you did. Of course sex became significantly wilder since he appeared in your life and you were more than happy to follow his lead.

Yet that all you did. Following his fancy. Following his instructions. Never taking charge. So maybe that’s why you bought some toys on an impulse, maybe you wanted to show him that you were trying to match his pace. To please him. When you were with him, Hisoka has this way to make you feel like you were on top of the world and at the same time utterly inadequate to be deserving of his attention.

“I… I don’t know. I wanted to do something different.” you answered truthfully.

“The idea in itself isn’t bad, just need a bit of polishing,” he chuckled, kissing at your shoulder.

Laying you down on the bed he finished to undress you, his lips caressing you skin as he uncovered more of your body. With his tongue dancing on your stomach and making its way toward your chest your barely noticed when he lifted your arms above your head. It was not until you felt pressure around your wrists that you realized your hand were bound to the bed.

“Wha-” The gag placed in your mouth cut off your words. Hisoka put it in, careful not to pull on your hair when locking it around your head.

He hummed at the sight, “The problem was that your idea was incomplete~.” He sat up straight above you, his knees on each side of your ribs. Always the show off, he made sure to give you a good view as he removed his shirt before fitting the blindfold on your eyes. Darkness enveloped you. “So, let me help your brainstorm ♥.”

[moemoemammon]

(Two things, 1. This is my first time requesting so I'm sorry if this is not the thing to do it, and 2. Sorry if somethings is misspelled or grammatically incorrect, eng is not my first language:p)

May I request some of the bros, specially Mammon, Luci and Satan, with a MC who's similar to Lucifer in some aspects (like, some of their manners are the same as his and sometimes they're little bit too strict) and after a while they discover that its bc MC is also an older sibling. And (only if you want) meeting their younger sibling, please 🙏

Btw love your works ♡♡♡

Lucifer Number 2~

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

It doesn't occur to Lucifer how similar the two of you are, but the first thing he realizes is how pleasant conversations with you can be. You both share common interests, your tastes suit his own, and you seem to be the only competent person in this house.

You're the responsible type, and he likes it. He'll sometimes find you scolding his brothers for their behavior too, and as amusing of a sight as that may be, he doesn't want you to be burdened with their idiocy.

AND you're the eldest sibling in your household? Cheers to that. You too know the weight of being the responsible oldest, and the role one must take to ensure their siblings grow up well. You too know that you'd rather your siblings have things easier than you did.

But there's one thing he finds annoying... You can NEVER speak your feelings, and act as if it’d kill you to do so. He can respect secrecy when it's appropriate, but Lucifer would like to know what's on your mind. Not only that, but you can be HORRIBLY headstrong. There's nothing that can stray you away from what you've already decided.

"MC, I request that you take a few days off from school to do as you please. I've already spoken with Diavolo and your professors, and you've been given an excuse. I know you'll study anyway, so I've dropped off your assignments in your room. But... you should rest. It isn't good for you to be pushing yourself so hard. Hm? You're calling me a hypocrite?"

Mammon

As if one Lucifer wasn't enough. Now there's TWO of em?! Why's his luck gotta be so lousy!

Definitely the first to realize how much like Lucifer you are, and was SHOOK. Seriously, what gives?! What horrors exist in the human world that could've made you like THAT..?

Ever since you showed up, it's been impossible to get away with anything! He can't sneak out of the house because you're always there somehow, you tattle on him when you catch him leaving anyone's room, and you won't even let him copy your homework! What gives?!

Avoids you like the plague. You're no fun! There's only rare moments when you're kinda okay, and he likes those the best. The times when you're kinda sensitive and you'll drop the high and mighty act. But then you're back to being a pest!

"For the billionth time, I ain't got time to study! There's money to be made, and a guy like me ain't gonna waste a second lookin' at a dumb book when I could be- H-Huh?! You're gonna call Lucifer?! N-now, there's no need to be so hasty, right? Oi!! I'm sorry, damn it-!"

Levi

What's the deal with Lucifer number two? As comedic of a trope as that may be, Levi doesn't really care for having two nagging types in the house. Especially a human...

When you're in his room, all you do is nitpick about how he should tidy up and open a window! Don't you know that an otaku's room is his pride and joy?! It's a sacred space not to be trampled on by the opinions of a normie!!!

But still... he has to admit that even if you don't get all the stuff he's talking about, you at least try to understand it. And there are even some of his interests that you're genuinely invested in!

You might be a pain in the neck and harass him about annoying things, but he guesses he can deal with it if you'll actually sit through a TSL marathon with him...

"I-I'll lend you this manga, so make sure you read it! And when you're finished with that, I'll lend you the spin-off series by the author's brother! I know you'll like it, since you're interested in gritty stuff. Oh, and- Huh? My laundry? Y-yeah.... I'll do that.."

Satan

You are... surprisingly good company. Satan enjoys talking to you over afternoon tea, and the two of you share stories between one another.

But still, he can't shake the feeling that there's something... unpleasantly familiar about your personality. It isn't until you say something that sounds suspiciously similar to what Lucifer would say that he realizes who you remind him of. And oh, he hates it.

Tries playing pranks on you, but somehow they never go to plan. How that is is beyond him, but you never fall for anything! No matter how sweet his smile, you're always rightfully suspicious. You're annoyingly meticulous about checking your surroundings, and you're so aware of yourself that it's troublesome! Be more gullible!!

The king of petty has decided that its now his life goal to make you fall for at least one of his pranks. He doesn't care how elaborate he has to make it, or how unrewarding the payoff may be. He'll make you pay for seeing his brother in two places at once.

"MC, would you like to join me this afternoon for a book reading? Though, I'd love it if you could read this book in particular. I think you'll find it very-.... Hm? 'Isn't this the cursed book that makes you grow hair all over your body', you ask? Ahaha.... tch."

Asmo

Come now, there can't be TWO killjoys in the house! That's way too depressing!! It was funny at first to see that there's someone who can match the scary Lucifer's energy, but now it's becoming a nuisance!

You won't even go to the countless parties he's invited you to! Hell, you barely even give yourself room to mess around a little? Isn't it boring being so tightly wound? You're in luck, because the adorable Asmo-chan knows the PERFECT way to let loose~

You'll RARELY let him close to you, and that's usually when you're tired of him harassing you. Then he gets the honor of playing with your hair while you've got no energy to fight back! He'll style it wonderfully for you!

Also nags you to take better care of yourself. You're not a demon, so you have to care for your health! These late night study sessions are giving you bags under your eyes! And stop taking on so many extracurricular activities!

"Geez, MC! I didn't think you'd die from overworking, but that's the path you're headed on! You really are like Lucifer, you know? That being said, I'll do my best to make sure you relax! Shall we begin~?"

Beel

Beel may not be too bothered by Lucifer's strictness, but that doesn't mean he's immune to it. To think that even a human can be like that...

It's nice to see that you can take care of yourself, but aren't you working too hard? Your grades are good and you've got many interesting talents, but you also have to properly rest.

Has started bringing you snacks on the regular. And don't even think about skipping meals, because he won't allow it. He'll literally pick you up and bring you to the table if he has to. And if you're staying up late to study? He'll carry you to bed. Don't try to protest.

Beel is your babysitter now and there's nothing you can do about it. It's good to be responsible, but don't think about trying to take care of everyone else if you can't care for yourself. Now eat these twelve meat buns he bought for you.

"MC, let's eat lunch together. I know you were going to skip because I heard you talking to Solomon earlier, and I won't let you. Ah, don't worry about not having money, because I've already bought you some lunch. Let's eat in the courtyard."

Belphie

NO.... IT CAN'T BE... THIS HAS TO BE A NIGHTMARE....HE WANTS TO WAKE UP....

You're such a drag. You harass him to attend student council meetings, but him about his studies, and won't let him avoid a single obligation he has. What are you, his mother?

Has 100% joined forces with Satan to try to make you fall for many, many unsuccessful pranks. Are you curse proof or something? When he tried a '10 hour bed-head' spell on you, it just rebounded right to him! Then he found out that you'd borrowed a spell repelling amulet from Solomon and realized just how prepared you are...

When you aren't bothering his entire soul by trying to make him do things, you're actually nice to talk to. You're knowledgeable, you pay attention to the people around you, and you can always read a room. He likes to ask you for advice sometimes.

"Aren't you tired of being like that all the time? So... attentive, I mean. You should just take a nap some time. Or better yet, take the week off. Maybe I'll teach you how to properly relax? Then you might finally be able to take that stick out of your- ow... What're you hitting me for?"

[ladyintree]

her heart sinks,   because not only did she not expect that from mikayla,   she definitely doesn’t know expect her to admit anything like that.   it’s a reminder that mikayla probably should hate her,   because if the roles were reversed,   taissa probably wouldn’t be able to stomach her at all.   she’s still curious,  though,   and maybe she shouldn’t press,   but she can’t help it now that some door is open.   ❝  you don’t have to hate me to pray for my downfall,  ❞    she points out,   the smallest hint of a smile on her lips,   because it’s relieving to know that mikayla doesn’t hate her nor wish for the worst despite everything,   even if tai doesn’t understand.  she takes a deep breath,   glancing away from her again before she goes on.   ❝  i’m glad,  though.   knowing you hated me,   it would—-   ❞    she shakes her head,   getting quieter now.   ❝  it’d kill me. ❞ 

her jaw clenches in frustration,   because it’s not her place to be able to call her on her ticks anymore.   it’s annoying,   knowing that as much as she’s changed,  as much time has passed,   mikayla can still read her.  she pushes out a sigh,   bringing her head down and brushing her chin against her shoulder,   avoiding the answer for a moment.   ❝  —- if i was doing this shit on my own,  ❞    she finally mutters,  her eyes widening as she lifts her head and looks back at her.   ❝  i mean,   if i didn’t have people around me giving me warnings,   or telling me to reel it in.   you know,  if i was calling all my shots myself.  ❞    if mikayla asks,  this is about her team,   not about her wife who’s worked overtime trying to make sure taissa didn’t sacrifice whatever morals she’s pretended to have through all of this.  ❝  i know what the fuck i’m doing,  you know?  ❞    she says,   again,   like she’s talking to someone who knows her still.    ❝  but i still have to be careful.  ❞    she gets that,  too,  no matter how hard it is.   

she doesn’t allow herself to think about jackie,  focusing instead on who she did vote for,   because as much pain as she’s still in about mikayla,   it’s still easier to think about than what happened with jackie.    so she laughs again,   this time more confidently,   as if she could stop herself —-  because in some screwed up way,   mikayla’s making her feel better.    ❝  well,  you had my vote,  ❞   she says,  like it’s obvious,  but a moment later,   she realizes they were definitely not even friends at the time.   that amuses her,  and instead of brushing it aside like she should be doing,   she decides to let it fuel her even more.   ❝  —-  that’s too bad,  ❞   she says,  and she knows she doesn’t need to explain why —- that ‘bitchy cheerleader thing’ worked for her,  something she hadn’t revealed to mikayla until they got together,   but it had become something she loved teasing her about—-  so now,  it’s still a habit. 

mikayla has said something of the nature before—-   something that validated her long ago,   made her feel less ashamed in her course of actions,   especially as she tried to cope with what they were forced to do out there.   as good as she pretends she is at keeping her cool,   it makes her falter,  intrigue painting her features but her jaw clenching in an attempt to not let it show.   the longing she feels for her crashes into her now,   reminding her that she still wants her —  she’s always going to want her — but she can’t dwell on that.   she can’t think about that.   so,   whether she means it or not,  she falls back into the truth instead,  because as hard as it is for her to admit this,   it’s easier than thinking about wanting her.    ❝  yeah,   i’m sure it was really hot when i made an impromptu press conference to drop out, ❞   she reveals,  something she hadn’t planned on telling anyone —-  something her wife was still furious with her about,  even more now that they’re apart,   and maybe that’s part of what encourages her to admit it now.   she sighs,  looking back at mikayla.   ❝  cameras started flashing,  and—  yeah,   i wasn’t letting that shit happen,  ❞    she explains.    

tai groans,  her head leaning back in frustration.   ❝  oh,  fuck that,  ❞    she spits back,  shaking her head.    ❝  it’s not too late—-   not when i’ve always given a shit.  ❞    not when she still does.   they’ve already rehashed this,  they’ve already talked about how wrong taissa was,  how justified mikayla is for being angry.   it still doesn’t take away the fact that taissa did,  does,  and will always care about her.  ❝  is it so wrong that i don’t want you to end up in fucking prison again?  ❞    she scoffs.   her face scrunches up,  still annoyed that misty was their only solution,  but it does seem like she knows what she's doing,   anyway.   ❝  fuck,  i never wanted to know shit about her life —-  i still don’t.   however she learned how to do all this is her business,  ❞    she says,  waving her hand in front of her.  

her eyes narrow in at her,   but the small smile on her lips still doesn’t falter,   because mikayla earned that comment,   and tai deserved it.    she hums immediately as she goes on,   her cheeks warming,   the blood staining the floor clearly not the priority now.   she hates not knowing what mikayla’s really thinking,  hates not having the upper hand now —-   but she’s made living off being able to read people,   and she decides that mikayla is trying to flirt,  and after all the stress she’s been through,   after her wife leaving her,   after her campaign has been a bust,   after her best friend fucking killed someone,    she’s not strong enough to ignore it.    ❝  you have my number now,   ❞    she reminds quietly,   like she’s giving her permission for something. because as rare as it is for taissa to answer calls, she knows she'd never ignore hers.

she focuses her gaze on the ground, her eyebrows furrowing, jaw clenched. mikayla knows that's likely what she should be doing— hoping for the worst for taissa, like that's somehow going to make up for the heartbreak she caused her. but as much as she's tried for the past two decades, she can't. “ i've never known how to hate you. ” not when they were kids, when mikayla was terrified of the way she felt whenever tai was near, not when tai never called, and not now. it doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt, watching tai move forward in her life without her, but she can't find it in herself to hope she loses. her marriage, maybe, but not this. “ so, no, ” she mumbles, wondering if she should have even admitted that much or just pretended to agree.

it bothers her, knowing that at one point, she would have been the one to make tai feel better, ease her doubts, but she doesn't know how to do that anymore. she can tell that it's getting to tai more than she wants to let on, but mikayla doesn't know what to do about it. she frowns, glancing up at her once more, almost hesitant to ask. “ if you what? what were you actually going to say? ” because she doesn't completely buy that tai doesn't want to stoop to his level, not when mikayla watched her cripple allie stevens, just for high school soccer— which she still doesn't judge her for, even now.

mikayla almost begins to smile, but it vanishes the moment tai mentions not eating meat, because once again, she's reminded that they're strangers. she doesn't have to ask why, not when she might have made the same decision if she had more options after rescue, instead of prison food. but them being strangers all over again still isn't enough to stop her heart from racing at the sound of tai's laugh. “ well, you don't have to worry about that. i couldn't even win homecoming queen. ” the reminder of who did causes her to glance toward the door to the bathroom, almost like she's worried shauna might have heard it. “ i'm even less liked now than i was back then— and i don't even have the bitchy cheerleader thing going for me anymore. ” just the criminal record and all of the theories that surround it, none of which are true, but that doesn't seem to matter to anyone but them.

she sits back for a moment, stopping entirely just to watch her as she answers, unable to even try to pretend to focus on cleaning up, because this feels more important, just for the moment— understanding why anything's different, why she's suddenly not the taissa turner mikayla once knew. her chest falls with disappointment at the answer tai does give, feeling like it's not enough, not the whole truth, but she doesn't know how to ask for it. she doesn't know if she's allowed, or if she should just be grateful for what she's getting. “ that's too bad, ” she sighs, going back to scrubbing at the floor, refusing to make eye contact as she continues, “ you were always hot when you played dirty. ” her wedding ring feels heavier on her hand beneath the gloves, reminding her that she's not supposed to say things like that to anyone but the woman waiting at home for her, but she doesn't feel as guilty as she should.

she knows taissa cares about this— making sure that none of them get caught, that none of this gets traced back to them, but that doesn't mean she cares about mikayla. again, she's left to wonder if tai would have done the same thing for her, if she would have dropped everything to help if it had been mikayla who killed someone, not shauna. she didn't when they were nineteen. “ i just mean it's a little fucking late to suddenly show concern. you didn't check on me when it actually fucking happened— i don't want you checking on me now. ” it just feels like rubbing salt in an open wound, reminding her that tai didn't seem to care enough back then, so mikayla doesn't want to know if she cares now. “ yeah, i know. misty probably does this all the fucking time. ” it's a joke, mostly, just to distract from what might happen if misty's advice doesn't work, if they actually do get caught.

mikayla scoffs, ready to ask tai why would i? but when she looks up at her, at her smile, it's difficult for her to remember what she was going to say at all. the question's ridiculous, considering tai destroyed all the faith that mikayla had in her with her silence in their twenties, but as easy as it is to be angry with her, she's reminded of the way it felt to be with her at times like this, distracted from all the bad by her and only her. “ i just didn't think you knew how a phone worked. ” she shouldn't, but she finds herself smiling anyway, her tone more playful than bitter— even if there is still some of that resentment under the surface. “ which is a shame, because i think i would've been into how you sound on the phone. without the, you know, panic in your voice. ”