#he knows he probably will be just smashed potato after she has his way with him but hes there for it

[rickgrimesdoingrickthings]

Send in ♔ for my muse’s reaction to yours pushing mine up against the wall (( hehehehe ))

Oh he had been waiting for that. He just let her push him. There was even a sense of happiness since she finally had decided to break that tension that had started to build up since the day he had joined her community. He was tired due to the day of work, but he didn't mind. It was always by that time of the day, by sunset, that Vega would show up by his house- each time she had a different "excuse" to visit. And he appreciated every single time, no matter the subject. By talking to Fox since days before, he knew Vega had these affection outbursts, sometimes even without proper context- but he didn't shake at her tackle. He enjoyed it- he secretly liked her roughness and strength- she was a warrior above all else. Rick stared her, almost challenging, excited to feel her pressure, her body against his, wondering what else she was going to do. He already could feel anticipation building up, his heart rate firing, oh he wanted her, he wanted her so bad, since quite some time. Rick wouldn't shake in front of her, no. He was a leader too, by heart- he had his own pride to defend. The sheriff let her pressure his chest, and whatever part she wanted to, feeling her hands on him in that context, she had no idea how much touch starved he was-

@sxbaist

@vuulpecula (look Fox has a cameo hehe)

[standfucker]

Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Monster Trio

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Reader: GN

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches

Ao3 Link

After writing The Break, I've always wanted to do drabbles of the same scenario for other characters, so here we are. ( 0v0)/

Luffy

It happens in an instant. One moment, you’ve brought your mace down on the head of the lion Zoan, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. You collapse next to his body, exhausted from the fight.

The next moment, the lion Zoan lunges at you from the floor, one massive paw smashing into your face with all the strength of their devil fruit, sickle claws tearing your flesh open.

You go flying. You hit the ground hard, leaving a smear of blood from your body skidding. Dazed, you try and get your bearings, berating yourself for letting your guard down early, praying it didn’t cost you the fight. The lion Zoan snarls and charges you.

“Gum-Gum Whip!”

The sight of your captain intercepting your opponent brings a heavy relief–if Luffy’s finished with his own opponent, that means your part is done, too. You can finally catch your breath.

With the rest comes the dull, burning pain across your face. The enemy mostly got you in the nose and mouth, miraculously missing your eyes. Blood runs from your nose and mouth and drips from your chin, bleeding as heavily as a head wound. Still, you’re not too concerned. It’s only when the rest of the crew catches up to you and you try to talk that you realize how much damage the lion did, because not only does speaking hurt, but Nami makes a face at the sight of you.

The local anesthetic that Chopper gives you helps a little bit, but it still hurts when he realigns your nose and stitches up the gashes. Luffy holds your hand the entire time, knowing you hate needles.

“Good job, Y/n!” Luffy says after Chopper’s done. “You’re real tough!”

“Thanks, Captain.” You sigh. “I would have been fine if I hit him again, but I thought he was down. I forgot how resilient Zoans can be.”

“You didn’t want to kill him.”

“I know, I shouldn’t take these fights so lightly–”

“Y/n, that’s a good thing.” Luffy stretches an arm around your shoulder. “You’re a good person. Besides, I was able to take him out easily because of the damage you did.”

“Nami looked horrified when she saw my face,” you say. “I must look like a mess.”

“You do,” Luffy says honestly, making you smile–which pulls on your stitches.

“Owww, oh…smiling hurts.”

“Then don’t smile!”

“I can’t help it. You make me smile. You know this.”

Luffy rubs his chin, eyes rolling up as he thinks. “Then I should stay away from you.”

“Nooo, don’t do that! I need you around to cheer me up! Especially now.” You take his hand that’s hanging around your shoulder, feeling your chest lighten when he squeezes back.

“Well, in that case, I’ll just not make you smile!” he says.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” You chuckle, then look at the mirror hanging on the wall. If you need to lower your mood, there’s an easy shortcut–the combination of your inflamed, swollen skin, plus the stitches make you look nothing short of monstrous.

Luffy notices your face falling. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going to scar. And not even in a cool way.” Living with severe facial scarring probably won’t be that bad–you are a pirate, after all–but it’ll still be new. And, to be honest, you’re not ready for your appearance to change so dramatically.

“What are you talking about? It’ll be super cool!” Luffy says earnestly. “Everyone will know what a strong pirate you are!”

He’s trying to cheer you up. You don’t want to bring him down in the dumps with you, but you can’t help but be bummed out.

“But what if I don’t want to look cool?” you say. “What if I just want to look like me? I mean, who could possibly find a face like this appealing?” You ghost your fingers over the stitches on your lips. “Who would kiss lips like mine?”

You think you’re holding it in okay, but the admission has you tearing up. You’re being ridiculous–you should be happy to be alive. But why did it have to be your face? Why…

Luffy stares at you in that way he does when he’s thinking. You can’t tell what’s going through his mind.

It happens in an instant.

One moment you’re sitting next to each other in silence. The next moment, he wraps his other arm around you, pulls you in close, and lightly presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

It hurts a little, but it also feels so good that your tears break free and sting where they roll over your cuts.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry, Y/n,” Luffy says when he pulls away.

“No, no! It was nice! It was really nice.” You have to fight not to smile.

“Oh, good! I liked it too!” he giggles, looking overjoyed.

“When I heal up, will you do that again?”

“I can do it right now!” Luffy says eagerly, but you clear your throat and tilt your head toward the doorway.

Chopper is standing there, little hooves on his hips, thoroughly unimpressed with the both of you and your method of boosting morale.

Zoro

Zoro was always one to downplay his injuries. Next to Chopper, you gave him the most trouble for it out of anyone in the crew. He figured that so long as he got medical attention, the extent of the injuries was no big deal.

He never expected to be on the receiving end.

In the heat of battle, he’s entirely focused on his opponent. This enemy crew is tough, but not the strongest they’ve faced. Strong enough to demand his full concentration.

However, Zoro knows the unique sound of a sword cutting through flesh. When he hears the shhk! noise behind him and remembers you’re also fighting a sword user, he’s so badly distracted he almost gets hit. He has just enough presence of mind to finish off his enemy before turning around.

That’s when he sees you fire a bullet into your opponent’s leg, your free arm wrapped around your stomach. There’s blood seeping between your fingers. In the time it takes him to rush to your side, you shoot your opponent again in the other leg, making him crumple, then once in each arm, rendering him completely unable to fight back from where he lays.

“Yo,” you say casually, but you’re trembling all over. Your torn shirt is staining quickly.

“You got cut,” Zoro states. He tries to pull your arm away so he can see your wound better, but you step back.

“I’m okay,” you say. You and Zoro both look down at your abdomen as you pull your arm away just slightly, and Zoro sees the unmistakable grayish-pink of your large intestine before you quickly plug up the gash with your arm again. You look back up at him. “It’s just a scratch.”

Zoro’s about ready to stab you himself, his eyes going wide with horror and rage. 

“Are you insane?!” he shouts. “A scratch?! Shit, where’s Chopper–?!”

“Ha ha–ow ow ow, hurts to laugh.” You grin, but Zoro notices you tearing up from the pain.

“Okay, just, stay still,” his hands are held up hesitantly, unsure of what to do, and he calls over his shoulder. “CHOPPER! Get over here right now!”

Once Chopper arrives, he applies an emergency field dressing and instructs Zoro on how to safely carry you back to the ship’s infirmary. You act like you’re in high spirits the entire way there, smiling up at Zoro like everything’s fucking dandy.

“This is kinda nice,” you say. “I haven’t been carried since I was little.”

“After you heal,” Zoro says, “I’ll carry you around as much as you want, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he says gently. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course not,” you say, and Zoro curses himself for having asked–he can see you wince with every harsh step he tries to avoid.

“We’re almost there. Almost there.”

“Relax, big guy. I’ve been through worse.”

You haven’t. He’s been in every major fight you’ve been through, and it’s never been this bad. Your blood is still warm on his skin, and your color’s getting paler, and it’s all because he couldn’t protect you.

The surgery takes longer than he thought. He’s pacing the hallway outside the infirmary so much that even Sanji starts to make a comment, which would have started a fight had Robin not intervened and sternly told them both that everyone was worried.

When you come to, it’s to the sight of Zoro standing over your bed. You don’t manage so much as a ‘yo’ before Zoro gets onto his hands and knees, bowing so low his head touches the floor.

“I’ll never let it happen again!” he says, minding his volume–Chopper is only allowing him to visit because Zoro promised he wouldn’t stress you out. “It’s my fault! I’m sorry–”

“Get up.” 

He peers up at you. Your face is twisted up like you’re holding something back, but you force it into a sneer.

“Get up right now, or I’m going to make fun of you,” you say. He hesitates long enough for you to roll your eyes. “Don’t be a pussy.”

That brings him right back to his feet. “What’d you call me?!”

“You heard me,” you say. “I’m alive, aren’t I? So relax.”

“I can’t relax!” Zoro snaps. “You got hurt because of me! I was too weak! I couldn’t–couldn’t stop this from happening!”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever?!” He no longer minds his volume. “How can you be so–so calm about this?!”

“How can you be making this about yourself?”

That shuts him up real quick. Realizing his mistake, Zoro starts to get a sour feeling in his stomach, but you only smile.

“Now you know what it feels like,” you chuckle and wince, “ow–what it feels like to have someone be dismissive of your injuries. So the next time you get hurt, you big dumb idiot, how about you have some self awareness and let me worry?”

Zoro deflates a little. “I still can’t just forgive myself like that.”

“I’ll do it for you.” You hold out your hand until he takes it. “Roronoa Zoro, I forgive you–so long as you do one thing for me.”

He leans in. “Anything. What is it?”

“Even with the pain meds, I’m still sore. Kiss it better?” You smile the way you do when you’re joking, but it soon turns to a look of surprise when Zoro leans in even closer. He hesitates for a moment, face hovering above yours, before his free hand comes to cradle the back of your head and he presses a firm, intent kiss to your lips.

You stare at him when he pulls away, your expression slowly morphing into a smile–not a playful one, not a masking one, but a real smile.

“W-What’s with that look?” Zoro says, flustered now. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“I meant kiss my stomach, dummy.”

Zoro’s eyes widen, but before he can remedy his mistake, you weakly pull him back in for another kiss. This time, he obliges without question.

Sanji

Sanji barely dodges a brutal strike from his opponent, then finishes them off with a flaming kick to the skull. You grin at him as you down your own opponent with a heavy strike from one of your tonfa.

“Careful there, Hotfoot! He almost got you!” you yell gleefully, only to narrowly avoid getting hit yourself.

“Worry about yourself, Sticks!” Sanji calls back, mirroring your grin.

“They’re not sticks!” you say yet again, smashing one of the tonfa into a pirate’s head and knocking them out cold. “You’re just jealous I can fight with my hands!”

“I choose not to fight with my hands!”

“Sure you do!”

You were well aware of Sanji’s commitment to only use his hands to cook, but it was still fun to pretend it was a skill issue. Sanji knew it was all teasing anyway. The two of you greatly enjoyed your banter, whether in or outside of battle. As physical fighters, your rivalry was a friendly one. After all, out of everyone in the crew, you spent the most time talking to each other.

The next wave of pirates comes, this time stronger than before–the enemy’s commanding officers. The battle becomes too serious for you to go on making comments, and your focus gets pulled toward your opponents.

It’s a hard, bloody fight. As soon as he defeats his opponent, he worries about how the others are faring. The rest of the crew is almost done with their own one-on-ones, and he finds himself rushing to find you first, his pace hurrying when he finds one of your tonfa lying off to the side.

You’re straddling your opponent on the ground. Your non-dominant hand is broken, held crookedly against your chest, and you’re bleeding from your hairline and mouth. With your good hand, you beat your tonfa into your opponent’s skull, over and over, a broken cry tumbling from your bloody lips with every strike. Your opponent is no longer moving, but you don’t stop, tears streaming from your eyes as you mash his face to a visceral pulp.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sanji skids to a stop next to you, grabbing your wrist before you can strike again. “He’s dead! It’s over. It’s over. You won.”

You look at him with wide eyes. Your mouth is held open, and at first, Sanji doesn’t realize what’s wrong, but he can tell you only won by a hair from the way you’re trembling. He gets down and pulls you into a gentle hug. “I got you,” he says. “I got you. You’re okay now.”

He holds you at arm’s length and checks over your body for any injuries, finding none. Mouth still open, you pull away from him and start patting the grass with your good hand, searching for something. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he says. “Please, say something.”

Sanji expects something tired and sarcastic, like ‘you don’t look much better.’ Instead, you make a strange, groaning noise as your response, and he feels a chill run through his body. You always had a quick retort for him, even when things were dire.

You seem to find what you were looking for, your hand closing around something. Sanji helps you stand up, and when you open your hand, he sees a few teeth in your palm that must have gotten knocked out.

“Your jaw’s broken,” Sanji realizes aloud, and you nod, and suddenly the way you hold your mouth open is deeply unsettling.

The silence that follows your surgery, however, puts Sanji at an even greater unease. Your jaw is wired shut to let the bone heal, and Chopper says that for the next six weeks, you won’t be able to speak at all.

You carry around a notepad with you, but for a while after you wake from the anesthesia, you don’t write anything down except to answer Chopper’s questions, opting instead to sulk.

“Come on, Sticks,” Sanji says lightly as he signs the cast on your hand. “I know you have something to say.”

You flick him off with your good hand, then seem to regret it, your face fallin along with your hand. Sighing through your nose, you grab your notepad and scribble something down, then hold it up for him to see.

‘I look like a chipmunk.’

The lower half of your face has, naturally, swollen up. Sanji shakes his head. “No, no, you look fine! You…” A pointed look from you makes him concede. “Okay, yeah. It’s swollen. What did you expect?” You look away, and he pats your shoulder. “Ah, come on, it’s not so bad. Most people find chipmunks cute, you know.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you give him a look of surprise. Sanji stiffens.

“Um, well, I mean…” he stammers. Though he doesn’t leave, for the rest of that day, you both avoid looking at each other.

From the beginning to the end of your healing process, Sanji stays by your side, always finding a way to make you feel better. He’ll hype you up by doing a drumroll while he’s waiting for you to finish writing out a thought, something which the rest of the crew picks up as well. When you’re hanging out with him in the galley, he’ll do hibachi tricks with the food he prepares to cheer you up.

The food he makes for you especially helps you get through the long weeks. You were severely bummed out at having to miss his cooking for weeks–until the first sip of the soup he cooked. You never knew a liquid diet could be so delicious. Sanji takes the time to roast and blend anything you’d wanted. Thanks to him, being unable to chew food doesn’t affect your nutrient intake at all.

He also indulges you in your favorite drink without you having asked, which is surprising. It’s not the first time he’s gone out of his way like this, but it does feel more special when you’ve been in such a vulnerable state.

‘Maybe there’s an upside to this after all.’

Sitting in the galley while Sanji cooks, you hold up your notepad for him to read.

“And what is that?” he says, walking around the prep table with a mixing bowl in his arms, looking down at what you’re writing.

‘I love y’

You pause, staring at your notepad with a weird, dumbstruck look. Sanji’s eyes widen, slowing down his mixing for a second, but you quickly recover and finish scribbling.

‘I love you treating me extra special.’ You hold up the notepad hesitantly, avoiding his eye. 

Though feeling warmth rise in his chest, Sanji plays it cool. “Well, I’m glad you’re finding the positive in this,” he says. “I personally miss the sound of your voice.”

You drop your notepad and fumble to catch it with only one good hand, accidentally smacking it to the floor. Both you and Sanji crouch down to pick it up, and freeze when your hands touch.

The urge to say ‘sorry’ is strong, though you can’t speak. Face burning, all you can do is look at him apologetically and hope he understands. But when you do, he’s looking back at you with the same expression he has when he reads a brand new recipe. Like he’s figuring something out.

You go to pull your hand away, but his fingers close around yours. “I, uh… I really mean that, you know.”

Swallowing, you glance down at his hand holding yours, then back up at him, and nod.

“Y/n,” he says, letting go of your hand to instead cup your cheek tenderly. “Would you… I mean. Can I…?”

With your heart pounding, you nod again, and Sanji leans in. You close your eyes, and a moment later, his lips brush yours, feather-light. Just that barest contact makes your head spin almost as bad as it did when you got your injury in the first place.

Sanji breaks free, and you stare at each other. A slow smile spreads across your lips at the sight of his nose starting to bleed. You both stand up, and you write something down quickly.

‘I’m sorry I can’t kiss you back.’

“That’s okay,” he says, reading the note over your shoulder. He rubs the back of his neck, grinning. “I’ll gladly do all the work.”

And Sanji does, in the quiet, private moments where it’s just the two of you. And yet, when the day finally comes for Chopper to remove the wires, and the first thing you do upon leaving the exam room is call out Sanji’s name, he’s so elated that he picks you up with a spin, kissing you in front of everyone before he can help himself.

[contemplationofapoint]

10.19.24 Saturday Morning Memory

This memory comes to mind quite vividly from time to time. Not sure who all I might have shared it with previously but I know Tune Tune and SweetiePie have heard the story on more than one occasion. Seems like something I would have posted before, but perhaps not with the illustration.

Mom, Dad, and I had gotten out of our car (must have been the big red Dodge Dad I picked up new in St. Louis that Mom and Dad had ordered before we all left Japan.

I really liked that car. I remember trips back to Missouri in the back seat with Dad driving, Mom beside him me behind Dad and my Brother behind Mom. I would eat those flat iced oatmeal cookies that were the perfect flavor, texture and taste during the trips.

While picking up the Dodge in St Louis we also visited Grandma Mitchell, who was living in an apartment there in St Louis at the time. I remember the ice cold 16-ounce glass bottles of Pepsi that she had. Oh, they were so good.)

Getting back to the story, we were headed towards the biker bar side entrance to Farm Fresh (Gene Walters was still with them back then). Not sure what we were going in there to get nor where my Brother was at the time. It was probably Saturday. Whatever it was we were there to get wasn’t much because back then Mom did the big grocery shopping once a month or so at the Commissary.

There were a lot of motorcycles down in front of the biker bar as it seemed there always were and a bunch of dudes milling about down there, again, as per usual. Between the grocery store and the biker bar were several shops but I couldn’t tell you what any of them were. Likewise, between the grocery store and the Dairy Queen to the other side were shops that made no impression on me.

As we approached the store entrance, we slowed to a stop approximately where shown on illustration. It seems Dad was the one that had us do so as he instructed me to ‘watch this’. He seemed to know what was going to happen and apparently thought it would be a good thing for me to see first-hand though we didn’t discuss it afterwards – I suppose he figured I would draw my own conclusions.

What was occurring before us was that the big guy was taunting the little guy and telling him to hit him while hanging his unprotected face down in front of the little guy. It went on for a bit until the little guy jumped up and smashed his elbow into the big guy’s jaw. He dropped like a heavy bag of cement or potatoes in keeping with the grocery shopping theme.

The dudes at the end of the long row of stores by the biker bar saw, shouted, pointed, and started running towards the scene that had just played out in front of us.

The small guy took note and ran into the grocery store slamming through the too slow automatic opening function – the rest of the dudes quickly arrived and ran in after him likewise slapping through the half opened door (none of them stopped to check on the big dude)– not long after the small guy ran out the other entrance to the grocery store, looked both ways, and then ran very fast down the sidewalk towards the Dairy Queen (that had been my Tee-Ball Team Sponsor – which meant free ice cream for every win for the team) and then rapidly disappeared around the corner.

None of his pursuers had left the store and the big dude was still doing his best impression of a bag of cement or potatoes.

At this point, my parents and I went into the store, got whatever we intended to, and went on about our lives. As we came out of the store, the big guy was still laid out on the sidewalk exactly where he dropped. No one was checking on him and I didn’t see any of the other dudes anywhere about – not sure if they were still searching the store or what.

I am sure there are any number of lessons and/or morals to this story and why it has stayed with me for well over 40 years now but in taking a page from Dad’s playbook – I will leave it to you all to draw your own conclusions.

[anonymouscomrade]

Mid-August 2024 "Going To Your Dad's Funeral After His Sudden Death" Edition:

it's too fucking hot to be doing this. come on, old man, you couldn't have hung on until, say, october? of maybe 2050?

a lot of weird yard signs saying "JESUS 2024". you sarcastically wonder to yourself what that's supposed to be code for

there's construction work on the lane going the opposite of yours. google maps will route you this way when you go back home. this will be the second worst thing that happens to you that day

you pass through a small town. one of the first things you see is some fossilized old bat in a Trump shirt sitting on her porch with two Don't Tread On Me flags hanging on it. you suppose it never really dawned on you until now, but you're not sure how you missed it every time you came through here, with all the confederate flags and decals on trucks. you would gladly trade the life of every single inhabitant of this fucking sundown town if it meant dad got even six more months

you arrive at what's now mom's place, you guess. everything still feels surreal, like he's gonna answer the door and it'll turn out you were mistaken about this whole thing somehow

you ask how it happened, and immediately regret it. turns out it was super-sudden, at least. dude probably never even had time to realize something was wrong before he was gone, let alone time to suffer. the tradeoff, of course, is that the neighbor's six-year-old kid is scarred for life because he's the one who found him face-down on the ground

there's so much food. hams, casseroles, fried chicken, four different potato dishes, sandwich meats. if people in the south can be counted on for one thing, it's making sure the grieving family's next twenty meals are taken care of. how could one man possibly have known this many people

you and your brothers spend most of the rest of the night playing Smash Bros. the CPU easily racks up most of the wins. all three of you joke about how rusty you've all gotten at this game, rather than address the obvious distraction

it's 3 AM and you're still awake because it's tomorrow. you see a possum in the yard from the window. that's not nothing, you suppose

the anticipation is worse than the actual event, you're sure. funerals are a fucking dog and pony show designed to extract money from the ones left behind, a bullshit ceremony of performative grief that doesn't help anyone who actually knew the dead guy--

oh my god they're burying him in his overalls and baseball hat. that's genuinely funny, the man had the wardrobe of a cartoon character. he absolutely would have wanted this instead of being put in a suit or something

all of dad's old friends immediately recognize you despite the last time you saw a lot of these people in person being sometime in 1989

you don't show up until there's only thirty minutes of visitation left before the actual funeral gets underway. you tell yourself it's to keep your mom company at her place because that's when she's going, and definitely not because funerals are stressful enough when you aren't related to whoever it's for

oh god he was drafted for the Vietnam war, you completely forgot there's going to be military honors at the burial. you skip out before the burial. everyone in your family has told you that's okay, and you know he'd be fine with it too. you still feel guilty about it. but not guilty enough to turn back

people are out living their lives, going to work, eating food, paying rent. the world keeps turning. just... without your dad now.

...seriously though what the fuck was up with those JESUS 2024 signs

driving through the american south to meet the folks for the holidays is always weird because you're constantly passing by the same things:

Dollar General store out in the middle of nowhere that has to be on the very edge of a small town you've never seen because there's no way they do enough business to stay open otherwise

barn that you're 99% sure predates the civil war and nobody alive has seen the inside of

pile of gravel, lumber, or tires that's been there since before you were born

distressing number of roadkill deer carcasses, most look like the deer just fell over dead on the side of the road but there's always at least one that looks like it exploded on contact

a small town that either has five churches all named First Baptist Church or one giant church that cost more to build than all the rest of the buildings in town combined

huge factory that looks like it was built in the 50s and then immediately abandoned, except everyone in a twenty mile radius knows someone who used to work there

gas station that closed in the 90s, with 90s gas prices still on the sign

the most hideous McMansion you've ever laid eyes on, built by someone who thought having a giant house with zero function and that looks pretty cool if you're a used car dealer in a flyover state but not to anyone else is totally worth living at least a half-hour away from any store or emergency services

[americasass91]

Baby Fever

Hello lovelies! I hope everyone is well! This little fic is for the amazingly talented @buckyownsmylife​ 2k/Birthday Challenge! Which the theme for it was breeding kink. Which how could I not participate in that? Breeding kink just happens to be one of the biggest kinks I have(and i don’t even want kids, go figure) So I looked through my Masterlist and realized I didn’t have a breeding kink fic with Steve. Well, I can’t say that anymore!

Thank you for hosting this challenge you lovely, beautiful human! And congrats on the 2k!! You deserve that and so much more! I hope everyone enjoys!

Rating: Explicit (duh, it’s a breeding kink fic)

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: breeding kink(again, duh), Professor!Steve(I feel like he’s a warning all by himself, language, age gap, unprotected sex(I mean, it’s kind of implied but I’ll put the warning anyway)

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

“How long do we have to stay at this thing?”

You help can’t but roll your eyes at your husband of 4 months. “I told you I’m not sure. It’s my niece’s 1st birthday party. You could’ve stayed home you know.”

Steve pulls up to your sister’s house and parks among the other vehicles in the front yard. “Yeah and give them even more reasons to hate me? No thanks.”

See, Steve wasn’t your family’s favorite person. It all has to do with the fact that he’s 10 years older than you and how you guys met, which was during your freshman year of college. You were the innocent student and he was your history professor.

The attraction was instant and very mutual between you two. But dating students at this particular university was frowned upon and Steve could have lost his job. So, you admired each other from afar….that is until the semester was over. You went to visit him in his office after your last class and he eagerly bent you over his desk and ruined you for any other future man you may have.

Well, that was 6 years ago now. Your family of course didn’t approve and thought he was just taking advantage of a young, naive student. Your mom was the first to come around when she noticed a change in your demeanor and how happy he made you. She talked some sense into your dad and he eventually backed off as well.  

It took until Steve put a ring on your finger for your sister to accept him. Although you know her and her friends still judged you two. You could tell by the looks you guys always got whenever around them. You learned to not let it bother you. Steve was amazing. He was attentive, caring, and he loved you with everything he had. The only flaw he had was that he didn’t want kids.

It almost made you consider not marrying him. You had always wanted kids. But, in the end you realized you wanted Steve for the rest of your life more than a baby. But he did adopt a kitten with you. So it’s a win, win.

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He gets out of the car and grabs the gift out of the trunk. You had gotten her an outfit that says ‘My aunt is cooler than your aunt’ and various toys that she would enjoy. Plus, being the book editor you were, you couldn’t not get her a book. So, you got her the very first Harry Potter book. When Steve saw you wrapping it with a questioning look, you told him it was never too early to start a child’s transition into being a Potterhead.

You skipped excitedly next to Steve as you made your way to the front door. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your enthusiasm. “You excited or something, sweetheart?”

After ringing the doorbell, you turn towards him. “Of course I am! I love my little niece!”

Truth was, you knew you were never going to have a baby of your own. So you poured all of your love and joy for a baby into your niece.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when your brother-in-law, Matt, answers the door.

“Mr. and Mrs. Rogers! Glad you made it! Come on in!” He ushers you 2 inside, helping you both hang your coats up in the hall closet. He then points to the obvious gift table. “You can just set that down there, Steve. And if you’d like, me and a bunch of the other husbands are downstairs in the basement watching the game. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

Steve looks at you, silently asking for permission. You give him a quick pecking the lips. “Go have fun. Just make sure to come back up for food and presents.”

As Steve heads downstairs with Matt, you can’t help but take in all the decorations. Little Miss Lindsey just happens to currently be obsessed with The Little Mermaid. So of course the theme is under the sea. Your sister really went all out. Streamers, balloons, and even mermaid figurines were everywhere. There’s even mermaid confetti on the tables.

You head in search of your sister and the birthday girl, one of which you find in the kitchen. “Hey sis! Need any help?”

Your sister, Rachel, turns from the hot dog sauce she’s stirring on the stove and gives you a big hug. “Oh, thank god you’re here! Can you grab the vegetable tray and potato salad out of the fridge and put them on that table over there?”

“Sure! Where’s Linds?” You ask as you grab the requested items out of the fridge.

Your sister returns to the sauce on the stove. “She’s still napping. I should be getting her up soon. Where’s Steve? He stay home? I know this isn’t really his thing.”

You take the plastic wrap off the potato salad and sit it amongst the smorgasbord of other food on the table. “Of course he’s here. He’s down in the basement with the other men.”

You sister lets out a sigh. “Yeah, I told Matt they could only watch until everybody got here. Ah, shit. I think I hear Lindsey crying.”

“I’ll get her!” Quickly jumping at the chance to see her.

“You sure? That would be great! The outfit I want her to wear is on the changing table. And can you do her hair up in the bow, too?”

“You got it!” You make your way down the hall towards Lindsey’s room, her crying getting louder. You open the door and see her sitting up in her crib. Her crying quiets the moment she sees you. She gets a big ole smile on her face and reaches out for you. “Hi, sweet girl! How is the birthday girl today?” You pick her up and give her a big hug. “How about we get you changed into your party outfit?” She just coos back at you in response.

You push her outfit aside and lay her down on the changing table. Quickly realizing she’s wet, you give her a fresh diaper. She attempts to ‘help’ as you try to change her into her party outfit. Which after it’s on her, she looks like a little mermaid. You quickly brush her hair and pull as much of it as you can into a ponytail on the top of her head and add the matching bow. You stand back a little from her and clap your hands. “What a pretty girl! Are you ready to join your party?” You pick her up and turn around to head out of the room. You’re surprised to see your husband standing in the doorway.

“Hey, I thought you were watching the game?” He shrugs his shoulders and walks towards you two. “I missed you.” He tickles Lindsey’s side, causing her to giggle. “Happy Birthday, little one.” You can’t help but feel your heart warm. That always happens anytime your husband interacts with a baby.

“I was just helping Rachel out by getting her ready. She seemed a little frazzled in the kitchen.” You turn your attention back to Lindsey. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s go join your mommy in the kitchen!”

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The next hour goes by in a blur. You weren’t really paying attention to anyone else. All of yours on Lindsey. The only food she seemed to want was what was on your plate. You didn’t mind sharing. Then she got to ‘smash’ her cake. Which for Lindsey it meant taking delicate little bites from said cake, mostly of the icing. She did still manage to get it all down the front of her though. But that’s okay, Rachel of course had a back up outfit ready.

You had just polished off your hot dog when Rachel walked back into the room with a now clean Lindsey. Steve grabbed yours and his plates to go dispose of.

Rachel sat on the floor with Lindsey who immediately started crawling towards you. “I think you’re gonna have to join us, sis.”

You can tell it’s hurting Rachel’s feelings a little that Lindsey is so attached to you today. Nevertheless, you join them on the floor, placing Lindsey in your lap. “Ready to open presents, sweet girl?”

Rachel turns to Matt. “Honey, could you start handing out the presents please?”

He nods and goes to grab the first of many presents. He sits it down in front of Lindsey who immediately goes for the tissue paper. She doesn’t even seem to care about the present in the bag. You laugh and try to get her attention on the gift inside.

You look up and see everyone laughing at the birthday girl who only wants the tissue paper. You notice Steve towards the back of the crowd, only he’s not laughing. He’s giving you a look. You’ve seen that look before. It instantly sends a shiver down your spine and makes your panties wet. He wants you.

You try to give him a stern look. He shouldn’t be looking at you like that in the middle of your niece’s party. He puts his hands up in surrender.

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After taking almost 2 hours to open the rest of the gifts, Lindsey was a sleepy girl. You were sitting on the couch with Lindsey cuddled up into your chest. You were gently rocking her back and forth. You look over at your sister who was cleaning up the mess from the presents.

“I can go put her down for a nap, Rach. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, sis. You seem to be her favorite person today so she’d probably scream if I tried to do it. Matt! Could you get a bottle ready for Lindsey so my sister can put her down for her nap?”

A few minutes later he comes out with the bottle and hands it to you.

You stand up and look over at Steve. “I shouldn’t be too long. Did you want to head out of here after I put her down? I know you still have those papers to grade.”

He nods. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. Thanks, sweetheart.”

You squeeze his bicep as you pass by him. “Of course not. Like I said, this shouldn’t take too long.” You glance at Lindsey and notice she’s having trouble keeping her eyes open.

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Just like you predicted, it only took Lindsey about 15 minutes to fall asleep. You take one last glance at her, your heart tugging a little, knowing you’ll never have one of your own.

You quietly close the door and don’t even take 2 steps before the door across the hall opens to reveal Steve. You look at him in confusion. “Babe? Why are you in the laundry room?”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he grabs your arm and pulls you into the room with him. He makes sure to shut the door behind him.

“Steve, what are you doing? I thought we were leaving?”

He pushes you to the front of the washing machine and presses himself up against you, immediately making you feel how hard he is. “Need you, baby.” He reaches around and starts undoing your jeans.

You start pushing his hands away and try to turn around. His hold on your waist tightens, stopping you.

“Steve, we are not doing this here. You can wait until we get home.”

You are suddenly pushed until your front is resting on the top of the washing machine, Steve covering his body with yours. He lets out a low growl in your ear. “This” he presses his bulge more firmly against your ass “is your fault. So, you’re going to help me with it.”

You turn your head to the side as he pushes your jeans over the curve of your ass. “Me? What the fuck did I do? I haven’t even really talked to you today. Been with Lindsey all day.”

He fastens his pace in removing his own jeans, only lowering them enough to free his aching cock. He lands a smack to your panty covered ass. “Exactly. Made me so hard watching you with the baby. Made me think what it’d be like if we had one. What you’d look like swelled with my kid. Knew I had to have you.”

You managed to push him back far enough to stand up straight and turn around to face him. “Steve, I’m not going to let you fuck me in my sister’s laundry room.” He launches at you, trapping your body between his and the washing machine. “It’s cute that you think you’re in charge. Now, I’m going to fuck a baby into you. And I can either do that here or I’ll take you out in the living room where everyone is and bend you over there.”

Fuck. These panties are officially fucked. Still, you have questions. “I thought you didn’t want kids, Steve? Plus I’m on the pill.”

His face turns soft for a second. He cups your cheek in his left hand. “I didn’t think I did. But seeing you with her today? Now that’s all I want, all I can think about. You with our baby. You’d be the best mother. And you’ll just stop taking your pill. Starting today. We’ll keep trying until it takes. Is this something you’re even still wanting?”

You grab onto his wrist and push your cheek against his palm. “Of course it is.” You turn back around and bend over the washer. You lower your panties to your knees and shake your ass in his direction. “Well? What are you waiting for? Fuck a baby into me, Steve.”

He growls and closes the distance between you. He grabs the base of his cock and rubs the tip through your dripping folds. “Don’t have time to stretch you out first, sweetheart. And I’m really worked up, so this will probably be quick.”

You push back against him, eager to get him inside you already. “Don’t care. Just please, fuck me Professor Rogers.” You knew that’d get him.

“Fuck.” Is the only warning you get before he buries himself in you to the hilt. He just gets his hand over your mouth before your moan escapes your throat.

He only gives you a second to adjust to his size before he starts a bruising pace. After a few thrusts, he removes his hand from your mouth and smacks your ass. He feels you clench around him. “Yeah? You like when your professor fucks you?”

You quickly nod your head. “Yeah. You fuck me so good. Need your cum. Need you to fill me up.”

Steve quickens his pace even more if that’s possible. He moves his left hand off your hip and moves it around you to find your clit. He presses quick circles against it. “Need you to cum first, sweetheart. Need to feel you squeeze me.”

You start pushing back to meet his thrusts. You can feel the coil inside you ready to snap. You just need a little something more.

Steve leans over you and starts pressing kisses up your spine, his pace never faltering. Once he reaches your shoulder, he bites down lightly. He moves his mouth next to your ear. “Come on, sweetheart. Cum for your professor. Then I’ll fill you up nice and full, get you pregnant. Cum for me, Y/N.”

You press your face into the crook of your elbow to muffle your scream as you cum undone on his cock. Your orgasm triggers his. He cums with a quiet shout as he fills you full of his spend, some of it leaking out around him. He gives a few more shallow thrusts before stopping and catching his breath.

He rubs his hands up and down your back. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You turn your head so you can look at him. “Mmm, i’m great.” You can’t help but let out a little giggle, feeling drunk on sex.

Steve smiles down at you and moves his hand until it’s resting on your lower stomach. “I hope it worked.” He slowly pulls out and watches as his cum starts leaking out of your pussy. He quickly scoops it up and pushes it back inside, causing a whimper to escape your lips. “Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t let any of it go to waste.”

Once he’s sure he’s got it all, he quickly pulls your panties back into place. He stands you up and turns you around to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you so much, thank you for being mine.”

You give him a big smile. “I love you, too. And thank you for picking me.” You bend down to pull up your jeans, Steve mirroring your actions. Once you’re both redressed, you wrap your arms around his neck and press a firm kiss to his lips.

“Now, let’s hurry up and get home. Want you to fill me up again.” You give him a wink and turn to head out the door. “You coming?”

He smirks as he starts following you out. “Oh, I will be.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @lllols @patzammit​ @quxxnxfhxll​ @bluemusickid​ @wanderinglunarnights​ 

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo

[writing-in-lesbian]

A Heiress in Love Pt.3

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff / Female Reader Tags: angst, fluff, Translations: skyprisa = Sky Princess // Hainofi = princess // Strik sis [Strisis] = little sister //Sestra = sister // Printsessa = princess Synopsis: You’re Y/N Woods-Griffin, daughter of Lexa Woods and Clarke Griffin, queens and rulers of the Triku Lands, a powerful and well know kingdom. Enter a mad king trying to “restore” the old world. In order to stop him from gaining control, your mothers decide to seek the union of their kingdom with the next powerful one, the Avengers Kingdom. Only problem? Their Heiress hates your guts. Chapter synopsis: after you break protocol, Wanda sees you in a different light. Does this mean you have now a chance to fix the hatreds she feels towards you? A/N: So I'm kinda parting away from The 100 canon and making some new rules of my own that I hope it make sense. Anyway, this is a longer chapter (gotta take advantage of my vacation time!) hope you guys enjoy it. And again this is not beta'd.

The royal introduction was a disaster thanks to your slip. Your mother wasn’t content at all with you and you couldn’t blame her. This was a big chance for your people and you make a stupid mistake like you didn’t know better.

King Anthony, bless him (you always have admired his sense of humor and the fact that he can make the best out of any situation) defused the tension and brought back the control and protocol. Before lunch, your mother gave you one of her looks, one that told you this would be dealt with later. Madi only smiled at you, not a word spoken on your way to the table.

You only hoped lunch was better.

It wasn’t.

Or that’s how you felt it.

Titus made a big fest, roasting a lamb, making all kinds of salads, and dishes. You didn’t have an idea of how many different things that man could do with potatoes until today. You are seated sandwiched between Natasha and Pietro. Wanda sat across from you between Madi and Octavia. This change in seating occurred minutes before food was brought. You wanted to ask but a look from your mom was all it took to remain silent… it’s a feeling that is not sitting well with you.

“So, future sister-in-law, what land would I rule once you marry mi sestra” Pietro asks you between bites of food. He’s taking full advantage of the apparently unlimited food.

“The land of the jokesters and foolish men” you hear Natasha scoff next to you. Honestly, you are a little bit (okay a lot) intimidated by her so hearing her liking your joke (you’re taking her scoff as something good) makes you feel elated.

“Rude. Come on future ruler, you can give me something better”

“I don’t know Piet, what about a small island in the middle of nowhere?”

“I’ll take it”

Talking with Pietro has always been easy, his goofiness making it perfect to freely talk, even if it’s just mundane things. Why can’t you talk to his sister as easy as this? You glance towards her and see that she’s not engaging in any particular conversation, Madi is busy talking with Laura, and Octavia is just observing her surroundings, clearly uninterested in mundane talk. You know she’s assessing Natasha from afar.

Your mothers are playing the host role to perfection talking animatedly with the Stark’s and Barton’s, the four of them clearly enjoying this new agreement and talking about the future, to them it looks promising. You just hope it can live up to their expectations. 

You take a little more time to observe Wanda, she doesn’t have a lot on her plate, playing with the smashed potatoes. Her eyes are looking down and, her free hand plays absentmindedly with her rings. You think she does it when she’s nervous or bored, probably both. Your watching is so intense she lifts her eyes and now she’s looking at you, her neutral face frowning once she catches your eyes. You avert it quickly so you don’t notice the small blush appearing on her cheeks.

“You know is rude to stare” you hear a husky voice next to you and for your own sake, you pretend it doesn’t affect you. You turn to see Natasha smirking, and if your mother hears you calling her by the first name even if it’s in your own mind she would be mad at you for your lack of respect.

“Sorry” you mumble and continue eating. Now you have a little frown on you and if you weren’t that busy and lost in your thoughts, you would have seen Wanda looking at you with a curious expression on her face. 

You’re about to make a comment when you see Indra enter the room and whisper something to your mother. Lexa nods and sends her away. She says something to Clarke and stands up.

“I must apologize, it seems there’s a matter at hand that requires my immediate attention, Madie, Octavia, Y/N if you please come with me” Her tone leaves no room for debate and as much as you want to stay and try to make any kind of conversation you know it should be something important if your mother is requiring Octavia’s and your presence.

“Oh, I hope is nothing grave. Should I be worried?” King Anthony (Tony as he insisted to be called) asks in a serious tone. The whole table feels silent.

“Nothing to be worried about, please feel free to finish lunch. Clarke will accompany you on your afternoon activities” Lexa says and proceeds to leave the room, two of her royal guards following her. 

Madi and Octavia are soon to follow but you take a little more time. Before standing up you feel a stare and look up to see Wanda is looking at you with an unreadable expression. You look at her, suddenly you mumble an “I’m sorry” and leave the table. You feel her gaze on you as you walk away. 

— // — // — //

When you enter your mother’s headquarters (it hasn’t been a war room for at least fifteen years) you see Lincoln and Indra explaining something to Lexa, they don’t even blink when you enter but Madi makes a sign for you to sit next to her.

“Last word was that Wallace refused Ultron’s offer but he’s adamant on gaining back some of his old territories. He launched an attack on the ice nation” Lincoln informs showing it on the hologram projected on the table.

“It wasn’t a big attack but enough to get Roan on edge and send a message to the rest of our clans”

“I see” your mother observes the map. “Indra, sent a message back telling Roan we are at the ready if he needs it. Octavia, prepare the warriors and keep them at by if necessary. Hopefully, Wallace stands back if he sees we’re presenting a united fort”

“Has Queen Regina said anything?” Octavia asks, preparing already things to take down to the warrior's quarters. 

“Yes, she also sent her support. Her armies are ready as well, hoping we don’t have to go to war”

“Let’s hope so. In the meantime, we have other things to plan. Madi can you go with Octavia? I need to speak with your sister alone”

There’s no room for any objection and you know you’re in some kind of trouble. Madi pats your shoulder before leaving. Once everybody leaves, you sit there not looking at your mother, she comes closer to you.

“Y/N I know you’re not a fool, you know what’s the situation and the stakes at hand and I need to know” she places her hand on your hand.

“Yes, mother?”

“As the next Heda in line… are you ready to lead your people and be at the front of the war?”

You know all your life if you ever ascend it to the throne that you’ll be leading all the 15 clans plus your allies. Your mother fought tooth and nail to establish a strong coalition and she’s not the leader of many lands for nothing. You never thought that if you ever lead, there would be a chance of war. Your stomach drops, a feeling of emptiness.

She’s looking at you with that unreadable look and you can’t help but remember all the times you have tried to live up to her expectations. You gulp and with the most assertive and confident voice you have, you answer her.

“I’m ready to lead my people to win, ready to protect and serve my people. Blood must not have blood unless it puts my people at risk. Attack them and you attack me.”

“Even with your own life?”

“Especially with my own life”

“Vow it”

You look at her, your mouth agape. A vow you never thought you’ll have to ever recite. 

Of course you knew it, you have studied them many times, but the words leaving your mouth suddenly gives you a feeling of doom. You hope with all your might, that if the time comes (and you hope it doesn’t) your new alliance with Stark helps you win this.

You kneel in front of her, head down and right hand on your chest.

“I vow to protect my people with my own life in order to ensure their safety and the safety of the coalition”

After you finish, you take the small blade placed in front of you. Inhaling deeply you make a slash on your hand, not deep but enough for the black blood to flow, you feel your mother’s hand on yours, her thumb tracing the cut and taking enough blood, she marks your headpiece, and then her headpiece. She then takes a piece of her sash and cuts a part of the fabric at the bottom, she places it on your hand, bandaging it carefully. 

You know it’s also a sign to indicate the vow and the new role you just took: Heda’s Second in line.

“I, Heda kom Triku accept and honor your vow”

Your mother nods and places her hands on your head asks you to stand. She looks at you tenderly before grabbing you by your shoulders and looking you straight dead in your eyes.

“Good. Now come, you have a schedule to follow and guests to entertain”

She starts heading towards the door but before leaving she stops and turns to look at you.


“I hope that whatever was what had you distracted today doesn’t repeat. Don’t disappoint me again”

She turns out and leaves without waiting for you. You stand there for a few seconds, the horrid sensation on your stomach. 

Disappoint me… again. 

Those three words feel like a punch to your stomach, the sensation of having a hole in the base of it. You feel the sting of tears in your eyes, you clench your jaw and breath before leaving the room, crying won’t do you any good.

When you finally leave, your mother is nowhere to be seen, you think she probably went with Indra or Octavia to check on the plans or something. You start walking back to the dining room but you know the meeting took longer than you thought. You ask a guard you encounter where your mom and Wanda’s courtship are at the moment. He informs you they’re walking outside in the gardens, thanking him you redirect your way.

But the words your mother spoke don’t leave your mind. You know she has really high standards you need to meet, and, in some ways, you feel that she’s always comparing you to Madi, and you can’t help but feel sad. You love your mother and you have no doubts she loves you as well, but sometimes, her words cut deeper. 

You feel a tear escape your eye, your hand angrily drying it. If your mom and guests are in the gardens, it would be nearly impossible to know exactly which part of it, so you stop. Feeling lost in your own castle you decide to just go and wait for them at the entrance. 

But your mind is still running a mile per minute, you can’t help but keep replaying those words and at the same time thinking about how you can get Wanda alone so you can at least talk to her. Protocols and manners be damned. 

You figured that maybe if you ask her to meet you for a beverage before dinner you could talk a little bit. With the new idea, you head to your chambers and look for Echo, asking her to help you with your little plan, making her promise not to say a word to your mothers. She eyes your hand and sees Lexa’s red sash around it and you can’t help but hide it behind your back. Echo doesn’t say anything but promises to help you out. You know there’s a high risk they know about your plan but you can only hope they let it pass, seeing as it would be out of hours, you know their schedule so you are for a fact sure it would be on their free time.

Once that is settled you start walking again towards the entrance only to crash against Octavia, her arms helping you to keep your balance.

“Little Heda, I was looking out for you”

“Why?”

“Training time”

Right, you have forgotten about it. She takes you by the shoulders leading you to your room to change or at least take the coat and sash out. She helps you with it and you leave. If she notices your crystallized eyes, the blood on your headpiece, and Lexa’s sash around your hand she doesn’t comment on it. 

You tell her that you hoped to get a free pass since your guests were here too which she only replied that there was a threat to war plus Duchess Romanoff wants to watch the training.

Why the fuck not? If you were dreading the training before, now you’re less than excited to go. You just hope Wanda might be there and maybe try to impress it with your abilities.

She’s not there. 

You ask casually or as casually as you can (which is nothing at all) where she might be. Natasha smirks and smiles like a Cheshire Cat, telling you she was feeling tired after the day's travels and went to take a nap. The rest of her party is off who knows where with your mothers playing good hosts. King Anthony probably tiring your mother’s ear out about the new technologies, Raven probably would have loved him.

Octavia sets some new courses for you to train, getting some warriors as well into the simulation so you can have some real hand-to-hand combat. You have the suspicion Tavia wants to impress Natasha as well, since it’s a known fact that the Duchess is highly skilled in combat, refusing to conform to social standards.

Whatsoever you’re a little bit distracted and the injury in your hand is stinging which makes you miss a few easy targets, plus you have been going at hand to hand combats for an hour already, so you’re starting to feel tired and emotionally drained. This result has Octavia pushing you harder than normal, especially after she knocked you down three times in a row. Just as you’re getting up Madi enters the training room and takes Octavia’s place.

She eyes your hand but it doesn’t comment on it. In fact, she pushes the training swords harder on your chest. You’re honestly fed up with everybody around you. She asks Octavia to stop the simulation. Octavia wants to protest but Madie just looks at her. Finally, she lets Madi into the arena.

“Defeat me” she spats the words at you.

And honestly, that’s such a stupid thing to say, in all your years you have never defeated Madi with a sword. Hand-to-hand combat yes, but with a sword never. You eye her trying to get a feeling out of it, maybe she’s joking but she gives you nothing.

Natasha has come closer to look, standing now next to Octavia, you barely hear her whisper about what’s about to happen. The atmosphere around you gets tense.

“Defeat me,” she says again.

Now, all the soldiers are forming a circle around you. It has been a while since they have seen you both train, but this is different, Madi’s energy is charged and you try to read her. You take the sword and stand in position.

As soon as you do that she charges straight towards you, barely giving you the time to block her hit. You eye her but she’s already charging back. You don’t register what’s happening around but you hear the exciting voices of the soldiers, trying to cheer both of you. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you kinda see Pietro next to Natasha, cheering you on and waving his hands like a cheerleader, enough for you to get distracted and get disarmed knocked down by the hit and kicks Madi gives you. You can tell by the pain in your chest, that she’s not taking any consideration, she’s going tougher on you. 

“Get. Up” she says circling you.

You do. You dust yourself and grab the sword again but your hand is aching, you switch hands, hoping to perform better with the left one. While you’re taking your fighting stance again you see Wanda next to Pietro, a piece of paper in her hand. THE piece of paper you gave Echo and you know at least she got the invitation.

Okey. 

One thing at lead is going according to plan. Time to show your future wife what you’re made of. You think maybe that’s why she’s going rough on you, to help you impress her, but her next movements aim literally to “kill you” (if it wasn’t for the fact that you know these swords aren’t sharp enough to injure) makes you rethink everything.

“Defeat. Me. HEDA” she says with clenched teeth.

And with that word everything makes sense. 

You know she knows you took the vow, you know she’s angry for that. In fact, this makes you angrier, she refused the throne, so she has no right to be mad about it. You charge at her with all your strength, blocking her hits as well. You have trained many years at her side before she left, you study her movements trying to anticipate them, and now you’re matching her up, head to head. Maybe is all the adrenaline of the day finally catching up with you.

If she connects one hit, you connect one, she blocks, you block, she kicks and you jump, you have never been able to match her like this, but then again, you have never been this angry at her and had never had Wanda around to show yourself. The arena is silent now, everybody caught up that this was not just a training match, this was a challenge issued by Octavia’s former second in command. The heiress that quit her place to be the next Heda.

The importance of this fight is not lost on them. You barely hear Octavia’s explanation to your guests. But at this time, it doesn’t matter about impressing Wanda anymore. This is about you earning your place, showing the soldiers you can lead them… and for Madie to do this? You want nothing more but to yell at her.

See? There’s a funny thing when everybody around you pushes you to the limits, you’re one comment away from exploding. 

Disappoint me…again

The voice of your mother resounds loud and clear in your head, pushing you to the limit. You have earned your place and you’ll be damn if they try to steal it from you. So you take the sword with your right hand, the pain increasing ten times, you know you’re bleeding again, as you feel the damp sash against your palm. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you stand in position you charge against her, this time trying a different combination of movements, some of them you haven’t used against a real person, only on the training dummies. This throws Madi out and you use this advantage to connect a few kicks and punches as well, she easily blocks them.

Finally, you do a combination of going left and changing directions once you see her trying to block that hit, aiming now at the hand grading the sword and connecting, making her drop it, moving fast you bring her to her knees, you can see the fury behind her eyes. You place the tip of the sword against her neck. 

You hear someone gasp.

“Surrender,” you say in a whisper, sweat dripping from your forehead, you know your face must be a mess. The sweat probably ruined the eye makeup and might have washed the blood from your headpiece.

“I concede. Congratulations… Heda” Madi says and her voice carries no emotion, her eyes not showing pride or happiness, in fact, her eyes are so guarded you don’t know how to feel about it.

“What the hell is all of this commotion?” You hear your mother’s voice through the arena. You turn to face her and see your mom and the rest of your guests next to her. Your mom looks at you with worry. Behind her, you see Echo, and your stomach drops. 

You look out for Wanda but her expression is one of curiosity, her apparent eternal front still in pace, and before you can do anything Clint goes to her side. Natasha tries to go to you but Octavia stops her. Pietro tries to gain your attention but you avoid him completely.

“I asked a question”

If there’s something that makes Lexa mad is the lack of responses. Instead of the lecture you were expecting, she surprises you by walking closer to you…

And slaps you.

You swallow hard. You can feel the tears forming in your eyes and the pain on your cheek but refuse to cry. 

You look at her and all the love and respect you feel suddenly leaves and you feel betrayed. 

“I asked you to follow protocol, especially during this time and next I know you’re organizing an unsupervised meeting with your betrothed and challenging your sister?”

You remain silent.

“Heda, with all due respect, Hainofi Y/N didn’t issue the challenge” you turn to see Octavia stepping towards your mother. 

Lexa diverts her eyes from you toward her. Not a word is spoken.

“Is that true Madi?” She asks your sister with incredulity and such gentleness you can’t help but laugh at the irony. Lexa looks at you like you had lost your mind and maybe you have.

Before anything else can be said, bless King Stark for interrupting the moment.

“As much as I would love to see this awkward family moment and learn more about your traditions, I think is getting a little bit late and my lovely wife and I should head to sleep soon if we plan to rise early tomorrow. After all, we need to head back to prepare things in our lands before returning for the lovely wedding I’m sure Wands and Y/N will have” and it’s his stupid comment the one that breaks the tension… since it’s probably around 5 or 6 on the afternoon.

Pietro soon follows his lead

“Of course, it has been an amazing but tiresome day. Maybe Queen Griffin can show us the way back and probably tell me where the kitchens are?”

“I apologize. Of course. Echo please show Count Barton, King, and Queen Stark the way back. They should rest before supper. Octavia, please escort Duchess Romanoff and Lady Wanda to their chambers”

“I’ll escort them” you hear yourself say but before you can even attempt to walk Lexa grabs your arm.

“Octavia will escort them”   You look at your mother without saying anything, apparently, today is the day of stares. Shaking slightly your head you murmur a soft fine before taking your arm out of her grasp. 

Octavia is not done yet though.

“Heda, if I may, I think it’s important for Heidoni Y/N to spend some time with Lady Maximoff in order for them to get acquaintance with each other, especially due to recent events and developing news,” Octavia tells Lexa. She has always been one of the persons to get head to head with Lexa, the other being your mom. She, like her, can call Lexa on her shit and get away with it (mostly).

You expect your mother to refuse, but something in her softens when she sees you and only nods her head before telling Madi to accompany you as well.

“Octavia, a word” is the final thing you heard her say before they leave. 

During all this time you didn't notice the warriors going away nor the other guests leaving with their respective handlers. It’s only when you turn to see Wanda and Natasha that you notice you’re the only four left in the room.

You hear Madi pat her clothes and you turn to look at her, anger still lingering. Sensing the pain in your hand you remember you still have the sword, looking at her you throw it at her feet.

“I’m done competing against you”

“You think I did this for a competition?!”

“Why else would you issue a Heda challenge if not for this?!”

You raise your voice just like her. Honestly, you just want to be left alone or at the least have some time with Wanda, but the universe is loving playing with you today.

“Because you took the vow you stupid!” Madie emphasizes each word with a finger jabbing at your chest.

The room goes silent or as silent, as it can get, seeing that neither Wanda nor Natasha had issued a word since. 

“You took the vow strisis” the last words a whisper, she then suddenly launches at you, her arms hugging you tighter than the day she arrived. 

And now her attitude makes sense. She wasn’t angry at you because you were going to be Heda, she was angry you took the vow to protect the coalition with your life. 

She had hoped that even if war broke, you could avoid the conflict, avoid being at the front lines, seeing as you were the little sister and wouldn’t had ascend to the throne yet, even if you married Maximoff beforehand, because for you to ascend, the current Heda would need to die.

But now it was impossible for you to step aside, you had been marked and you had vowed on it. 

As soon as the sun rises tomorrow, your headpiece will change, indicating your new status as Heda’s second. Everybody in your lands would already know just by seeing Lexa’s sash around your hand and your blood on your headpiece.

And this has been such a tiresome and stressed day that as soon as she hugs you, your tears run down freely. By now, you know you have made a complete fool in front of Wanda and any chance you might have to change her impression of you is gone down the drain. 

“Sorry to interrupt but by the way that was freaking awesome. Y/N you’ll need to teach me those moves”

Natasha’s voice breaks the moment and Madi is the first to separate from the hug, she looks at you now with love and sorrow. You sniff and laugh at the same time. Bless these people and their imperfect perfect timing to defuse a situation.

“Yeah of course Duchess Romanoff”

She waves her hand dismissing the title. You like her already.

“Please, call me Natasha when your mothers aren’t around”

You smile, just a few hours and she has picked on the strict side your mother has. You look one last time at Madi and give her a smile. She surprises you by giving you a small hug.

“Now, I believe my little sister has an unsupervised commitment here with Lady Maximoff?”

Natasha not so discreetly coughs something closer to “first date” but you don’t want to get your expectations up.

Right. 

You hoped that wouldn’t be mentioned again. This has been a disastrous day already, plus you’re sweaty, bloody, tired, and your face and hair are probably a mess, not exactly a “first date” presentation.

“Uh… I understand if she doesn’t want to go, I mean, it was a spur of the moment, it’s not on their agenda, and-“

“I wouldn’t mind” you hear Wanda’s voice and is the most angelical thing you have ever heard. You turn to look at her so fast your neck probably got whiplash.

“Are you sure?” You timidly ask and as you take a few steps closer to her, your heart beating so fast, you can’t help but think that this is the longest you two have actually talked. You pray whoever is up there to let you hear her voice more often.

“I am,” she says while looking straight into your eyes and you’re so sure she can see your soul. She tilts her head a little in confusion, frowning. You have come to love that small frown though. And as soon as she speaks those words you smile, a smile that reaches your eyes and makes your chest happy.

“Y/N?” You hear Madi call you. Not wanting to take your eyes from Wanda but also not wanting to disrespect your sister you turn to look at her. Forgetting for a moment all the emotions you’ve had during the day, the physical stress you put your body through the challenge and training, not feeding it properly and the little blood loss you suffered, it’s not a surprise you get dizzy. 

“Whoa”

You feel a pair of hands holding your waist, steading your body, feeling a shock through your body, a warm sensation filling you. Turning your head you expect to see Madi for some odd reason (you’ll later know she nor Natasha were that close to you in order to catch you on time) and are surprised to see Wanda. This close you notice the exact tone of her green eyes, a shade lighter than your mother’s, she’s a little bit shorter than you, not more than an inch, her scent (something floral, like jasmine) hits your nose and you can’t help but inhale it. You swore you see some red wisps around you but you can’t be sure.

“I think you need to rest” it’s her sweet voice the one that has you trying to stand tall. Breathing in and out just like Octavia showed you, you try to get some sort of control over your body. A chance to get Wanda alone again after today might be hard to get, so you wouldn’t want to pass this.

“No, no. I’m okay. I just probably need to eat”

“And get a bath, it wouldn’t be a bad idea… Henofi” Madi’s sweet voice reaches your ears. You nod.

“Can I still see you?” you direct your words in a plea to Wanda

You don’t know what were you expecting but the small chuckle you receive from Wanda is enough to get you weak on the knees and you would be damned if you won’t try again to hear that sound.

“She will be there” Is Natasha the one replying. You frown but don’t comment on it. Wanda takes her hands from your waist, seeing as you sort of have recovered your balance. 

You extend your hand, trying to make Wanda shake on it and it’s when she sees the damp sash, black stains covering most of the red. You flinch with the movement.

“Your hand” her worry is evident in her voice. She tries to take it but you recoil from her touch.

Not a lot of people outside Triku territory and the coalition know about the special type your mother, sister and you have. There aren’t many like you, not after that fateful attack at night years ago that killed most of them. You’re not ashamed of your blood but aren’t sure how Wanda could possibly react to it, there was a girl running after she discovered this.

Madi senses this and tries to go to you but Natasha stops her, nodding to just look. 

“I…” you tried but fail miserably trying to explain. 

“Please, let me look. I promise I won’t run” and seriously? it’s as if she just read your mind. Deciding that, if you two are meant to marry, you’ll have to learn to trust her and vice versa, plus you’re trying to get to know her, escaping from her won’t do any good.

You let her get close now, extending your trembling hand towards her. Wanda gently takes it and delicately starts unwrapping the sash, since there was nothing between the cut and the sash, and with all the new blood pouring, the fabric got a little bit stuck to the wound. 

Flinching, you grunt, wrenching your teeth to mask the pain.

“I’m sorry,” she says sincerely.

Finally, she undoes the bandage and observes your wound. The blood has stopped coming out, but the black drops can still be seen in some parts, where others have started to dry. She tentatively tries to reach but thinks better of it, fingers stopping closer. You examine her face, gauging her reaction.

“Your blood…?”

“It’s black, yeah”

She looks at you, her adorable frown present. She studies it for a moment, tilting her head, and observing it. She passes her hand above it.

Madi takes a step closer, ready in case something goes bad, making Natasha get closer as well.

“Why?”

“Genetic trait, created to resist the radiation that plagued my mother's native land, it’s called natblida, night blood in English” you explain to her, choosing carefully your words, it’s the easiest and shortest version.

Wanda observes it and you observe her. Her gaze goes from your hand to your eyes. You feel her searching for something, you don’t attempt to blink…or breath.

She closes her eyes, suddenly feeling a warm sensation on your hand, you take your eyes from her and towards your hand, seeing red wisps coming from her hand. After a few seconds she opens her eyes again, you watch her with your lips parted, noticing not for the first time, that they go from red to their usual green.

Unconsciously you lick your lips, your mouth suddenly dry, noticing her eyes catch it and follow the whole movement.

“You have magic” you barely whisper but in the quiet room, you must as well have screamed it.

Madi comes closer after hearing your words, taking your hand from her grasp and inspecting the now closed wound. She looks at Wanda and then at Natasha, having a silent talk with her, and, not for the first time, you wish you could be as good as she is at reading people.

“You know you’ll need to keep the sash for a few more days right?” Maddi says after whatever she and Natasha communicated.

“But is all bloodied and dirty”

“Mother probably sent to your chambers freshly red fabric already”

At the mention of your mother, you can’t help but lower your gaze, frowning. You feel conflicted at the moment with her. Madi notices this, same as Wanda and Natasha, and not wanting to interrupt more than what they already have, give you a little bit of space. 

Madi lifts your chin.

“You know she loves you right?”

“Yeah”

“Okey. Now, you had a long day, and is not over yet, so I suggest we go so you can take a bath and hurry your ass back to take Wanda on your date”

A quiet and shy chorus of "is not a date" from you and Wanda has both Madi and Natasha laughing. Madi gently pushes you towards the entrance and you turn to look at Wanda. Her expression is softer now but still remains naturally guarded. She looks at you, mouthing an “I’ll be there”, walking past you with Natasha on her trail, when she passes next to you she winks and gives you a thumbs up.

Madi and you leave the training area, you’re silently walking, a small smile on your face, you can’t help but feel giddy. Already planning where to take Wanda after tonight. Finally, you feel things are getting better.

That’s it until you arrive at your room and see your mom Clarke waiting for you.

-- // -- // --

Tag List:

@spongebobtentacles​

[theunquenchablethirst]

Hooked (Jerome X Reader)

Ok, so this is a thing. I was kinda surprised nobody had used this scene yet, because the Gotham fandom seem to collectively agree that Jerome is BIG KINKY and yet the one scene where he canonically has people cuffed up and hung from the ceiling... nobody has touched??? Y'all have been sleeping on that scene! It's fanfic gold! Anyway, enjoy the hedonism. Much love xxx

Warning: SMUT, 18+, GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, BDSM, bondage, cuffs, dom/sub, vaginal fingering, oral sex, biting, spanking, slapping, pussy slapping, light choking, spitting, belt whipping, praise/degradation, marking, mention of scratching, Jerome is big meanie pants mean man

The new mayor of Gotham is having a meeting with his council members, but things take a turn when the Legion of Horribles show up to kidnap them and reader. When the victims are being unloaded from the truck, Jerome Valeska notices reader, because she isn't exactly on the guest list.

Tag list of lovelies: @gabile18 @valeskaduh @fangirl--writes @persephoneblck

Masterlist

I had been working as a housekeeper for the new mayor. It was a good job, but I wasn't appreciated. I was just there to clean and serve when needed. I don't think he even knew my name. I was just hired help to him. To all of them.

He was hosting a dinner for his council that day. I had been placed in the corner of the room with a bottle of expensive wine where I was to wait until wanted. He gestured for me to come forwards and fill their glasses while they started talking about their displeasure with the rising foul play in the city, like it was anything new for Gotham. The chairwoman wanted to know what he was going to do about it. Very little in my opinion. He was just coasting. In too deep over his head. He had been appointed far too fast and everyone knew it. He wasn't going to last.

He made an attempt to save face and talk about how he too was disturbed by the recent goings on and was doing everything he could. Trash, utter trash. As he rose from his seat, the lights fizzled out. I stopped pouring. Had this been any other city I would have assumed it was a simple power outage, but nothing was that simple in Gotham. The security guard closed us in and went to see what was happening. The air turned icy. No, this was not good. Gunshots and screams came from the hallway and everyone rose from the table terrified. We quickly started walking towards a door hoping to make an escape, but there was something about the windows. They were freezing over.

The doors burst open and I dropped the wine. It smashed into pieces as a blueish man in some kind of robotic suit and a weird looking, but huge gun stepped into the room. Was that Victor Fries? Then through the second set of doors another man in a top hat who I recognised as Jervis Tetch burst in with some other strange looking friends.

Before I could comprehend the situation, we were all being cuffed and taken outside. Our kidnappers pushed and pulled us towards a huge truck, all the while the mayor tried to buy his way free. He was showing just how little he really knew about the underbelly of Gotham. I knew just by looking at them that they were probably Arkham escapees and couldn't be bought like a sane man could. They had their own plans and you can't bargain with crazies.

We got to the truck and they opened the back door. My blood ran cold when I saw that standing there waiting for us was Jerome Valeska. Of all the criminals Gotham had seen he had been the only one that had scared me, truly and thoroughly. He didn't have any kind of reason for what he did. He just enjoyed death and chaos. And after his last escapade he looked like madness personified, his scars circling his face and eyes and giving him a permanent evil smile. Dread consumed me as I realized that he was no doubt the leader of this operation and if that was true, we were already dead.

I felt myself jolted forwards. The mayor had pushed me in front of the rest of the council to get whatever was coming first. If I wasn't cuffed, I would have turned around and broke his nose. I was lifted into the truck, my hands were pulled above my head and fixed to two hooks. I had to stand on my toes to keep standing which made it awkward and difficult as they pushed me to the back of the truck.

Was that Penguin? What was he doing here? He didn't belong here. I had gone to Penguin looking for a job in his club when I was 16. He was impressed with my audition, but when he asked my age, he rejected me.

"This establishment is not a playground for children. It's a nightclub." He had told me. At the time I had been steaming mad, but in hindsight he was probably right. Even if he was rude. So, after that, I found it hard to understand why he was here and working with Valeska. Maybe he had been kidnapped too?

The rest of the council were loaded on and hooked. The mayor was still trying to offer them money and pardons. When he saw it wasn't working, he resorted to empty, unintimidating threats. Jerome was completely unfazed and even a little disappointed in the lack of smiles.

"Nobody knows how to have fun anymore, right?" He said putting his arm around Penguin. So, he was a part of this.

Jerome pointed to a scary looking figure dressed like a scarecrow. Johnathan Crane? Crane released some kind of purple gas in the face of a member of a council. She started laughing and convulsing violently.

"What have you got to lose? Except your sanity?" Jerome joined in the crazy laughter. So, this was his plan. He'd figured out a way to forcefully drive everyone insane. With a gas.

I silently prayed to God in my mind for any kind of help.

After sufficiently terrifying us half to death, they left us in the back of truck. None of us could say anything and after a few minutes the truck started moving.

"Is she ok?" I asked looking towards the victim of the insanity gas.

"Who cares?! We have to figure out what they want and get out of here." Replied the mayor.

"Maybe they want publicity for whatever that gas is. Offer them some TV time." Guessed the chairwoman.

"Don't you get it?! This isn't a situation you can buy your way out of!" I snapped, frustrated with their idiocy.

"These aren't normal criminals. They don't want your money. They want chaos and madness." They stood there silently stunned. They had never heard me speak with such confidence, but in that moment, they knew I was right.

After what felt like hours the truck finally stopped.

"What's going on?" The mayor whispered.

Everything was quiet. We listened for any noise or sign of life. All we could hear was our own breath.

Then suddenly the doors flung open once again and in hopped Valeska, Tetch and Crane.

"We're here!" Jerome grinned.

The other two started to pull the council one by one off the hooks and walk them out of the truck, closely watched by Jerome. Until they got to me.

"Wait..." He stuck an arm out to stop Tetch from unhooking me.

"Who's she? She wasn't on the party list." He took a few steps closer to me.

"This poor young girl is an unlucky maid. Wrong place, wrong time. Very bad day." Jervis explained looking at me.

"Would you like me to... dispose of her?" Asked Crane, stalking close to me and lifting needle covered fingers to my throat.

"Not so fast, Mr Potato Head." Jerome said pulling him away from me.

He came so close that we were only inches apart. He looked down at me as if he was thinking for a few seconds then smirked and turned around to the others.

"Guys, go and see that our guests are comfortable, will ya? Get everything ready." He ushered them out of the truck. Fear travelled up and down my body. This had all been a bad situation, but being alone with Valeska scared the hell out of me.

"You're lucky I have a soft spot for pretty little girls." He closed the truck doors and turned to look at me.

"Freddy Krueger there... not so much." He relaxed, leaning back against the doors with his hands in his pockets. "You got a name?"

I stayed silent, more out of fear than defiance. He sucked his teeth and stood up straight.

"I get it. You're scared. Who wouldn't be, right?" He started slowly walking closer. "But things will go a lot smoother if you just play nice."

I still couldn't find any words.

"Aw, come on, doll! I'm getting awful lonely over here." He brought his hands up out of his pockets and leaned against a wall of the truck.

He was quiet for a few seconds and I noticed that his eyes were making their way up my legs. Being held up by my wrists on my tip toes had pulled my uniform skirt up and almost all of my thighs were exposed. I blurted out my name in an attempt to distract him from my bare legs. He smiled.

"What a pretty name. Now, was that so hard?" He pushed himself off the wall and came a little closer.

"So, you're the mayor's dust bunny, huh? I gotta say, doll, I can see why he keeps you around." He chuckled, eyeing me.

My whole body flushed and my face turned hot and red.

“But, uh, the thing about mayors in this town, they don’t last very long.”

"Please let me go." I whimpered.

"Oh, but we're having such a good time! Plus, if I did that, you'd scamper off to the GCPD and I can't have good ol' Gordon crashing the party early."

I scoffed at his suggestion. Not likely. I had a distinct distaste for the GCPD. They hadn't helped me when I needed them. I would never need them again.

"What's the matter? He book ya before or something?" Jerome smiled with intrigue.

"My parents... they... did things to us. When I ended up in the hospital one too many times..." Tears stung my eyes as I remembered. "They left me there and disappeared with my little brother. No one ever managed to track them down."

I didn’t fully understand why I was opening up to Jerome, but for a second, I saw a spark of humanity in his eyes. Like he understood my pain. I'd heard his first kill had been his mother, so maybe he did?

"I'd give anything to see him again." I sniffed and a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Yeah, I had shitty parents too." He sighed. "I killed them both."

I had thought about what I would do if I ever saw my parents again. What I would say, what I would ask. I could never think of the right words. But the thought of killing them, well that made me smile.

"What was it like?" I asked.

Jerome grinned from ear to ear and stepped closer so that we were toe to toe.

“Have you ever stood at the edge of a really tall building? You know that little voice in the back of your head that says ‘Jump! You can fly!’ even though every other part of you is screaming ‘No you can’t! You’re gonna kill us!’”

I nodded shakily.

“It’s like finally giving in to that voice. Like jumping off Gotham Bridge and finding out you can fly. And realising you never have to walk again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and my heart felt like it was going a million beats per minute. His eyes were locked on mine and it felt like he was looking straight into my soul.

“You wanna fly, doll?” He brought his hand up to cup my jaw and ran his thumb along my bottom lip.

It wasn’t humanity I saw in Jerome Valeskas eyes. It was freedom. A freedom that I had wanted for as long as I could remember. And I could have it right now. He was offering it to me. The only thing standing in my way was myself.

“Yes.” I breathed. “Yes, I do.”

The next thing I knew, his lips were crashing into mine and he had hooked his hands under my thighs and was holding them around his waist. His kiss was desperate and hungry, like he had been starved for days and his grip on the bare flesh of my thighs was rough enough to leave bruises. I locked my ankles together behind him to steady myself from swaying underneath the cuffs. When I did, he drove his crotch forwards, grinding into my centre, a quiet moan escaping me as I felt him.

He slowly trailed a hand from my thigh, up my back and to the nape of my neck, before balling my hair in his fist. I gasped as I felt the sudden, sharp tug of him pulling my head back.

His eyes wandered down to settle on my exposed throat, before yanking my head to the side and nestling in the crook of my neck. He must’ve left a hundred open mouth kisses, but as he started to suck, I felt his teeth sink into my skin. I pulled back with a hiss at the sting, but he wouldn’t let go. He just kept on leaving harsh, red bitemarks and pulling my hair, all the time grinding harder into me.

He licked over the bruises he’d left and gently kissed them, before trailing his tongue up my neck to nip at my ear. He smiled darkly and pulled back away from me, dropping my legs back to the floor. He stalked around me, eyeing me up and down like a predator. I felt him behind me, his hands softly holding onto my waist, pulling me close to his chest.

“You know what’s great about this?” He cooed. “You’re already pre-cuffed.”

I flushed and my core swelled hot, his breath so close to me made my skin tingle all over. He pulled at the top of my skirt and dragged it down my hips, letting it fall down around my feet. He caressed my thighs and then stepped back, tugging at my underwear, playfully letting the elastic snap back to me.

“Y’know...” He said, before the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling. “Marquis de Sade said ‘sex without pain is like food without taste’...”

My eyes widened at his words and my heartbeat quickened.

“So, let’s make this... delicious.”

A million thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could process any, I felt the sharp snap of leather against my ass. I jolted forwards and let out a high pitch yelp.

Even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell he was smirking. I could hear it in his voice. I bit my lip in an attempt to brace myself and he landed the belt across me again.

“Please, Jerome...” I whimpered at the sting, closing my eyes.

He brought it down again, making me arch my back in a gasp. A couple of tears rolled down my cheeks and I realised there was little point in resisting the torment. So, I gritted my teeth and prepared for another lick of the belt.

He whipped me once more, harder this time and a small scream escaped me.

“Please!” I begged.

I heard him chuckle with dark delight. The bastard was enjoying this. Of course he was. What else had I expected from someone like him? I tightened all my muscles for the next sting...

But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt him pulling my underwear down. Relief washed over me when I heard the belt drop to the floor and I realised Jerome was finished and was now crouched, ready to inspect his work. He ran his fingers over my burning flesh, taking in the bright red lashes he had left on me.

“What a pretty picture?” He said, landing a spank. “I wish you could see too doll, but having you cuffed is half the fun.”

His voice was dripping with venom and arousal and I could practically feel his grin in the air. He traced the marks with his fingers a little longer, before grabbing my flesh in fistfuls and sinking his teeth in. I gasped loudly at the hard bite. I wasn’t sure how many more of Jerome's surprises I could take. He laughed and ran his tongue over the new bruise.

“Yep. Definitely a pretty picture.” He smiled, giving me another spank. “I like those little noises you make, doll. Why don’t you make some more for me?”

He snaked his hand up my inner thigh and began stroking along my slit, relighting the fire in my stomach. I moaned, biting hard on my lip and tried to bring my thighs together, wanting friction.

“Naughty.” He said, landing a swift slap on my entrance causing me to let out a little yelp. “I need you to keep those legs open for me.”

It wasn’t as bad as the belt. In fact, it felt quite good. The heat inside me swelled as Jerome returned to running his fingers back and forth in my slickness. I hummed softly in my throat, fighting the urge to close my thighs again, my knees starting to shudder underneath me.

“Look how wet you are and I’m barely touching you.” Jerome chuckled darkly. “I wonder what happens if I do this?”

Jerome plunged two fingers deep inside me and slowly started pumping them. I let the warmth roll through me, moaning blissfully. He gently started to pick up speed, making it nearly impossible for me to keep my thighs apart. The faster he got, the deeper he dove, making me tighten around his talented fingers and struggle to keep steady on my toes.

My legs were shaking and despite my best efforts I just had to squeeze them together. As soon as I did, Jerome removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty and spanked me hard.

“What did I say about that?” He barked, laying down another spank.

His spanking felt different this time. It felt pleasurable and sent a thrill up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whimpered.

“Sorry for what?” He spanked me again. “For being a needy little whore? Hm?” Another spank.

“Yes!” I gasped. “I’m a needy little whore! I just...”

“What? You just what?”

Jerome landed another slap at my core. It made my muscles clench, but it also aroused me so much more in a way I’d never thought I’d experience.

“What? What do you want, whore?”

“Please...”

“Big words, princess. What...” Spank. “Do you...” Another spank. “Want?”

“I want... I want you...” I forced, breathlessly.

“You want me? What do you want me to do, princess?” Jerome teased, tracing a finger along my burning entrance, just barely touching me.

“Please... Make me feel good, Jerome... Make me cum.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes...”

“Are you gonna do as I say?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Exactly as I say?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Just please...Jerome.”

I couldn’t take it any longer. I felt so pathetic and needy. I needed him to touch me.

“So desperate.” He giggled sadistically. I supposed he loved seeing me beg.

Then, finally, he spread me open and dove his tongue deep into my wanting warmth. I closed my eyes and bit down hard on my lip as he swirled his tongue around inside me. I wanted to grab his hair and feel it in my fingers, but all I could do was squeeze my fists together in empty frustration.

Jerome grabbed a hand full of my ass, gripping it tightly, digging his nails in and rose his other hand to my pelvis front, pulling me down further onto his tongue. I squealed, a delightful mixture of pleasure and also pain from the tugging on my aching forearms. He ran his front hand down to play with my swollen clit, circling his fingers around beautifully.

He grinded his face deeply into me, sliding his tongue up, down, around and around inside me. He pressed his fingers down harder on my clit, forcing a loud moan out of me. I felt the pressure inside me build, coiling and tightening like a burning spring. I squeezed my thighs around his head in a desperate attempt to pull him deeper, his tongue nestling inside finding all of my sweet spots and lighting them on fire.

I could feel myself ready, ready to burst. He was pulling an amazing orgasm out of me and I wanted nothing more than to just let it go. All it took was one more upward jolt of his head, pushing his tongue that last little bit deep enough to push me over. I screamed out in erotic pleasure, letting the feeling flood me like warm water. My back arched and my legs convulsed until I withered, letting myself dangle from my cuffs in a breathless defeat.

Jerome slid his tongue out of me and pulled his face back away.

“You sing so pretty, dollface. Like a little birdie.” He said, squeezing the flesh off my ass.

He gave me one more light bite and a spank, before he rose back up to stand, snaking his hands along my sides all the way. He let his hands wander up to cup my breasts, massaging them softly. He leaned in close and began leaving wet kisses in the crook of my neck. I shuddered, his touch sending a cool tingle down my spine. He let his hands squeeze my breasts slightly harder, then pulled away and crept back around in front of me.

He stood facing me, his eyes locked on mine. They seemed to burn holes right into my flesh, creating a sense of fear in me. I was scared of Jerome Valeska, I truly was. But everything he was doing to me right now... The way he touched me, kissed me. I wondered how he managed it. How he was able to both terrify and arouse me in equal amounts.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t register his hand rising until it was firmly wrapped around my throat. He leaned down to kiss me, dominating my mouth with his tongue, making me taste myself. Once again, I felt the familiar warmth build in my core as I sensed we were not quite done here. He finished the kiss with a little nip to my bottom lip.

“Are you scared of me, doll?” He purred.

I swallowed hard, unsure if truth was wise here. Then I felt him increase the pressure around my throat, not wanting to wait for an answer.

“Yes.” I breathed.

“Good.” He said through an evil smirk.

He crashed his lips to mine once again, his free hand picking up my thigh to wrap around him. I locked both my legs around his waist, wanting to feel him close against me. I felt his erection hard, under his clothes, grinding into me and I wanted it. Badly. He pulled away from the kiss, leaving his taste on my tongue and raised his hand from my throat to grab hold of my face. He took his other hand away from my thigh and pulled at his tie. I didn’t drop my legs this time, instead I gripped tighter as he slid his tie from around his neck and scrunched it in his fist.

“Open your mouth.” He ordered.

I did as he said and he smiled, before spitting into my open lips and gagging me with his tie. I’d never had anyone do that before and it shocked me a little, but then again, I’d never had anyone like Jerome Valeska before.

He backed up slightly, just enough for him to reach down and unzip his trousers and pull down his underwear, freeing his erection. I couldn’t help but look down at it. It was bigger than any I’d taken before and I wasn’t sure how prepared I was. He started to slowly stroke himself, lifting up my chin to look at me.

He gently stroked a single finger across my jaw and then, suddenly, landed a harsh slap across my cheek. I yelped at the slap, causing a dangerous smile to form on Jeromes mouth. I should’ve been repulsed by him. He killed people and was aroused by my pain and fear, so why was I so attracted to him?

He angled himself underneath me so he was lined up and ready. He wrapped his hand back around my throat and then pushed forwards into me, causing us both to let out deep moans.

“You like that?”

I nodded and whimpered through the material of the tie. Jerome giggled darkly and with his free hand, gripped onto my waist.

“Brace yourself, princess.” He warned, through a poisonous smile.

He pulled back slowly, until he was almost completely out of me and then, like a bullet, ploughed himself right back in, jolting me backwards with force. He continued his thrusting rough and fast, making me whimper and bite down hard on the tie. I closed my legs tightly around him, pulling him closer and forcing him in deeper.

He let out a low, guttural groan and moved his hand upwards from my waist to slap me again, spitting at my face as he did so. I closed my eyes to endure the onslaught of him pounding inside me like a raging animal. I felt like a toy, dangling there for him to use as he liked, but still the searing pleasure of it all made me moan lustfully.

“Open those peepers, princess.” He commanded. “I want you to see exactly who’s in charge here.”

I opened my eyes and saw him grinning at me like a man possessed.

“You like this? You like me fucking you?” He growled, gripping my throat tighter.

All I could do was whimper and moan in response.

“I cuffed you and hung you up, hurt you, spat on you... even made you cry! And you still let me fuck you?” He laughed through shallow breaths. “You’re pathetic, you know that? A pathetic little whore.”

Jerome threw another slap at me and I felt myself tighten around his considerable length, taking him all deep inside me. He drove up into me like he was trying to break me open with his girth and I welcomed every inch of it.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He moaned.

I clenched my walls around him, the feeling of being filled by him sending flutters through me as he pushed in deeper and laughed.

“I don’t think your pussy ever wants to let me go, doll!” He grinned. “But I already know you like taking my cock like this, cause you’re such a good girl for me... I like that.”

I flushed at his words. I didn’t know why, but it made me feel good to please him and, in that moment, I would have done anything for him. I could feel my ecstasy creeping up on me, like magma rising inside a volcano. I cried out wantonly, the heat rising as he worked me, exploring every detail of my canal with his thick shaft.

He let go of my throat and moved both his hands to grab onto my ass and squeezed, steadying me so he could pound me harder and climb to release. His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I could tell he was just as close as I was. I moaned loudly as he rammed into me harder and faster, burying himself deeper and making my arousal burn.

I could feel it coming, so close. I was about to boil over and all I needed was him. Just him. He continued thrusting like a raging animal, digging his nails into my flesh and scraping them along my ass, stinging sweetly. I whimpered at the sensation and tightened my legs.

“Cum for me, doll.” He panted. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

He plunged into me, pushing the magma higher and just so close to bursting. It was coming. I could feel it.

He pounded again. So close. Again and again, so hard inside me. Just a little more...

I screamed out, closing my eyes and letting everything go. The feeling of my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave of pure elation. My whole body shook from the force of it and I trembled like a leaf. Jerome continued to thrust into me until he too reached his climax. He growled like a beast and I felt him throb, releasing his hot load of sticky lust deep inside me.

We both relaxed, catching our breath and he stared down into my eyes. He unlatched his hands from the flesh of my ass and brought one round to gently stroke my cheek with his fingertips. It was quiet, but only for a minute.

He threw his head back and laughed like the madman he was, before pulling out of me and stepping back. My legs dropped to the floor and he began to put himself away and zip his trousers back up.

“Well, that was fantastic, dollface. Thanks for playing nice with me.” He said, throwing me a wink.

There was a loud metallic knock at the truck doors and I guessed whoever it was, was trying to get Jeromes attention.

“It’s been fun princess, really. But time waits for no man and I’ve got a party to attend” He said, smiling at me. “Well, more like crash.”

When he turned to leave, I tried to speak, but all that came out was intelligible muttering. He wasn’t going to leave me here, dangling, half naked and gagged like this? Was he? He began walking to the truck doors and I tried to call out.

“Oh! Wait, almost forgot.”

I felt a flood of relief when he began walking back to me.

“I’m gonna need this back.” He said and pulled the tie out of my mouth.

I was glad to finally be rid of it, but my joy was short lived, because he was starting to leave again.

“Hey...” I croaked; my mouth dry.

“Yeah, I’ll have someone come get you later.” He said, too nonchalantly for my liking. “For now, you can just... well, why don’t you just hang out?”

He laughed at his joke and opened the doors.

“Hey! You can’t leave me here!” I tried to shout, but my throat was too dry.

And then... he was gone. He really did just leave me alone, half naked in the back of a truck. How long would it be before someone found me? An hour? Two? The rest of the day?

All alone with my thoughts now, I decided the only thing to do now was wait. Wait and try and go over what the hell just happened between me and Jerome Valeska.

[bokunosimpfiction]

Yandere!Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Synopsis: Heisenberg kidnaps the reader. And she’s pissed about it. And so is he. Turns out there’s a lot more to it than it seems, tw: kidnapping I’m not tagging for violence because it’s less graphic than even the mild stuff in canon. Like reader gets a concussion and a dislocated arm, that’s it.

A/N: first time ever writing for Resident Evil. I haven’t even played the games, only watched a play-through and immediately fell in love with this hobo. Honestly, there’s a lot of room to make a sequel or some more from this but I have commitment issues and it probably won’t happen.

Oh and one last thing! Do you think I should add resident evil: village to my fandoms I write for or no. Let me know please!

             It’s dark in your small cottage, claustrophobic with the way you stumble to the front door as fast as you can. You try to take deep breaths, but you can’t, not with someone chasing you. You cut through the kitchen, and when he reaches out to grab you, you slam the door to a cabinet as hard as you can. You can hear his pained yell.

             “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, (y/n),” he says.

             “I’ll make it as hard as I damn please!” You put your hand on the handle to the front door, twist and right before you manage to open it, a body slams into yours and you hear your arm pop. Loudly. And it burns at the elbow like someone poured gasoline on it and set it on fire.

             You can hear his heavy breathing and feel the warm air on the crown of your head. “You put up a good fight, I’ll give you that much.” He presses his body further into yours, and you feel everything. The toned muscle under a layer of fat, the harsh fabric of his shirt and jacket, and the bulge that presses into the small of your back.

             “You’re so small,” he coos, like he’s talking to a dog, “I can’t wait to break you.”

             You manage to wiggle one arm free and jab him in the side as hard as you can with your elbow. You hear him say oof under his breath, and you take this as the opportunity to press your foot into the door and push back into him as hard as you can, to at least get him to stumble back.

             It doesn’t work, he just leans his whole-body weight on you and uses one hand to smash your head into the door. He could have done it harder, you reckon, but it still hurts like a mother fucker. “Shut the fuck up before I do something I regret.”

             “Like you don’t already regret breaking into my house and trying to kidnap me? Like you don’t regret slamming me into my door and dislocating my elbow? What are you going to do to me that you’ll regret? Huh?”

             He looks down at you through those yellow glasses of his, light from the glass peephole reflecting off of them but his hat shading the rest of his face. “I said shut the fuck up!” He presses your head even further into the door, and your temple digs into the frame. It hurts, and your eyes water from the pain.

             “Who even are you?!” You end up shouting. His grip loosens a little bit, just enough for you to move your head off the door frame and onto the actual door. “I’ve never met you in my goddamn life and you break into my house, say you love me, and try to kidnap me!”

             Something in him breaks, you can tell, the outline of his features look crestfallen. “You don’t know who I am?”

             “No… I don’t. And here you are in my house, chasing me around like I’m some goddamn animal you’re hunting.” Your eyes water. “I know you don’t mean a damn word you said this entire time.”

             “Shut your goddamn trap woman!” His grip on your hair tightens. “I love you and we both know it; I know everything about you.”

             “So, you’re a stalker? Huh, didn’t think I was pretty enough to have one.”

             “I knew you had a mouth on you, and it was attractive till it was pointed in my direction.” His voice is low and gravelly at this point, like a thin string that’s pulled taut and about to snap.

             “Well get used to it you fu-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, because a piece of metal from his hammer slams you hard in the face, knocking you out cold.

             When you wake up, it’s hard to open your eyes. It’s too bright and the room is spinning when you move your head up. That must be one hell of a bump on your forehead. You go to feel it, only to find you hands chained up to a metal pipe on the wall. Your feet are too, but that chain is a lot slacker.

             You’re lying down on the floor, a cheap scratchy blanket separating you from rough, worn down cement. It’s still hard and cold, but it didn’t scratch up your skin, so that’s something to be grateful for. You look around the room, only to find an old tv, that’s on, and playing static. That’s what was so bright, you realize.

             Suddenly the noise from the t.v. stops, and you hear a voice. It’s still sounds like static, but it’s audible enough to understand the words and recognize the voice. It’s the same guy who kidnapped you. You don’t really process what he’s saying, it’s just noise to you, and you close your eyes and curl up as best as you can. Maybe you’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.

             “Quit ignoring me girlie.”

             You snap out of your daydreaming. The days of that warm bed and leaky bathroom faucet are over, and this cruel situation is your reality for the time being.

             “Okay. Okay. But just quiet down my head hurts.”

             “I’d be sorry, but you brought that upon yourself,” he says.

             You can’t help but be snarky, you’re tired and already sick of this shit. “I’m sorry you don’t have the self-control to not kidnap people and knock them unconscious via flying pieces of metal.”

             “Touché.” You hear back.

             “Can you at least get me some Tylenol for my head or something.”

             “Why should I? After all the attitude you’ve given me, I should just leave you in there to starve.” Looks like he knows how to be snarky too.

             “Because you were the one who hit me in the head and locked me in here?”

             “Apologize and I’ll consider it.”

             You go back to your curled up position. “I guess I’ll just starve down here then.”

             The t.v. cuts off again, or you just tune him out, just run your hands along the chains to try and find a lock. You find the one attached to your left ankle and begin to plot your escape. Maybe you could pick the lock with a bobby pin? You run your hands through your hair, not only to find that it was down, but all of them were removed.

             You run your hands down your pajama pants. Maybe you have something in your pockets? They also turn up empty.

               “Are you looking for something to pick the lock with?” You hear from the t.v. You turn back to look at it, only to see his face. He’s not wearing his glasses, and he’s taken off his worn-out bucket hat, so you can see his untamed salt and pepper hair. “I took the liberty of searching your person while you were knocked out. I highly doubt you’ll find something to pick the lock with.”

             “You’re an asshole, you know that.” You find yourself saying. To be fair, you probably shouldn’t, considering that he: is holding you hostage, threatening to leave you to starve, and is clearly a psychopath, despite his claims that he loves you.

             “Calm down, you know it makes me upset to see you mad.”

             You can’t help but raise your voice at him. “Quit fucking taunting me! You won this stupid ass game. You kidnapped me! You can come down here and kill me now!”

             “You think I wanna kill you?” He asks, you can tell he’s just as furious as you are. He chuckles lightly. “You know I love you. I did this for your own good! There are people out there. People who want to taint you and your innocence! People who want to hurt you!”

             “I can handle myself just fine! I had before your psycho ass came along and kidnapped me!” Your furious, desperately searching for a weak point on the pipe with your hands while you yell at the t.v.

             “And what would have happened if I didn’t?” He asks you, “lady supersized bitch in the castle would have gotten to you first… I can’t have that.”

             “I’m sorry who?” You ask. Suddenly things have gotten more confusing.

             “I’m not the only one who’s after you,” he clarifies. “You think I’m the one who’s a psychopath, there’s a woman out there who wants to drink your blood and eat your flesh! And monster that wants to drown you and swallow you whole-”

             “Slow down! I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”

             “Don’t interrupt me! I want what’s best for you!” You can hear him take a deep breath. “I’m going to bring you upstairs and explain everything. And you’re going to behave, am I clear?”

             You just nod your head.

             “Good. Now stop trying to find a weak point on that pipe to get loose before I get down there. It has carbon monoxide in there, you’ll poison yourself before you get to that door.”

             You immediately stop twisting the connector and drop your hands to your sides.

             “Good girl…” His praise makes you want to vomit. “Now stay still while I come get you.”

             When he comes down and opens that iron door and unceremoniously tosses you over his shoulder, you can’t help but comment on it. “Am I a bag of potatoes to you?”

             “Don’t complain, I could be like that Dimitrescu bitch and turn you into wine.”

             You shut up immediately and grasp the back of his coat for balance. You don’t know why, but his empty threats scare you immensely. You watch the hallways blur into one another, trying to see if you can find a window, or an escape rout of some sort, hell, even a vent he couldn’t fit in but you could would work well.

             He smacks your thigh. Not hard, but enough for a slight sting and to get your attention. “We’re in the center of the factory, there’s no need for you to be tracking an escape route, especially because you won’t be leaving any time soon.”

             Eventually, you end up in a small office like space, with a desk, a cork board with several pictures of people on it, and a large grate that leads to a tunnel downwards. He pulls the metal chair out of the corner with his powers and places you in the chair. “Stay.”

             “So…” He turns towards the cork board. “Since your out of town, I’ll explain the run-down-“

             “I don’t really care for the details.” You stand up from the chair and go to walk towards him, but he crosses the room in a second and slams you back down.

             “I told you to stay in that goddamn chair!” He opens his mouth to explain but a whirring noise starts out of nowhere. It’s loud, obnoxious, and coming from the vent. He opens it. “Shut your goddamn trap!”

             “Anyhow, (Y/N),” he starts, “the other three lords decided that they’re interested in you, for whatever their reasons are. I’m assuming they want to kill you.”

             “That’s a veeeeeery extreme assumption.” You roll your eyes, and prop your head on your hands.

             “Well two of them are well know for turning people into dolls and drinking their blood,” he says casually, “it’s only a fair assumption they want to do the same with you.”

             “I’m sorry they what?”

             He turns to you, surprised for a moment that you don’t know what he’s talking about. “Super-sized bitch over here,” a sharp piece of metal lands on the photo of a pale, middle aged woman with bold red lipstick and a black hat, “is one of the other three lords, known for drinking the blood of girls like yourself. Wouldn’t suggest meeting her, she’s not that pleasant.”

             “Known for?”

             “Sort of, most of the towns people don’t know,” he turns to you and leans on the table by the cork board, “they’re too busy worshipping Mother Miranda.”

             “I’ve heard her name before,” you say, “doesn’t she protect the town?”

             You can sense the anger you caused before you can take it back.

             “That Miranda bitch doesn’t protect anybody from shit. She’s the one causing all the issues, kidnapping people and mutating them, killing them and throwing their lives away like table scraps.” You slams his hand on the table and you visibly flinch. He quickly apologizes.

             “You keep mentioning ‘the other three lords’ how many are there, and who’s the one your excluding in that statement?” You question as soon as you get the chance. He’s talking, loudly, quickly and it’s filling up the space in the room with an anxious sort of white noise.

             “Pardon me,” he says, and waltzes over, almost over-dramatically. He brings your hand to his lips and places a light kiss. You can feel his stubble and chapped lips on the top of your hand. He desperately needs to use chap-stick. “I’m Heisenberg, one of the four lords, but you can call me Karl.”

             “Okay… Karl.” You test the name out on your tongue. “What are you going to do with me, now that I’m here?”

             He gets down on one knee in front of you, still holding your hand. “Oh (Y/N), I’m going to treat you how you deserve, like a princess.”

[babymetaldoll]

I just want you (Chip Taylor / Reader)

Requested: Yes

Word counting: 3.5K

Summary: What would it be like to be married to Chip Taylor? Would it include a lot of women trying to hit on him?

Warnings: Cursing, spoilers of 68 Kill.

A/N: Hello, beautiful people! sorry, I've been a little absent here, but writing my series has taken most of my time! Also, I feel a little blocked, and my personal life has been a mess. But, here it is: my first Chip Taylor fic. Have you guys seen 68 Kill? I love that movie, and I love Chip so much. He deserves the world. I hope you guys like this little story!

Masterlist

---

It wasn’t like I didn’t know my husband was handsome, ‘cos you had to be blind not to see his face was made by the gods, and all of his features were simply perfect. I just didn’t know every woman would flirt with him everywhere we were all the time.

And they weren’t even subtle about it. No. They made it very obvious when they looked at Chip each time they stopped by his work. They wanted him.

After all those years together, a part of me had made peace with that. I couldn’t stop them. He was hot, he didn’t want their attention, but he wasn’t rude or anything like it. Chip Taylor was a very polite man who was also very blind to the attention his looks gave him.

Chip owned a small pet sitting business that had started to really take off in the last few months. He had some savings that he used to buy a house when we first started dating. He lived there until we got married, and then we bought a bigger place outside the town. That’s when he decided to turn his old home into his own pet sitting business. And it was a hit. Chip is fantastic with animals. He is great with everybody, but pets just… melt with him. I think they can see the kindness of his soul.

Chip Taylor deserves the best things in life ‘cos he is the best man I’ve ever met. I’ve loved him since the day it took him almost half an hour to walk over and talk to me in the bar we met.

- “Every time a pretty face pops up, my brain turns into a potato- he explained, flustered ‘cos he kept stuttering as he asked for my number.

He was too sweet. Too cute. And he loved me. He had a ring that said so. But again, that didn’t stop most women who met him from flirting with him.

- “Here he is. Little Rascal had a great day today”- Chip walked to the front yard with a french bulldog, who kept barking, trying to get an extra treat from him. I smiled from a safe distance, reading a book sitting on a porch while Chip met with the dog owner. And she was as excited as Rascal was.

- “Hi baby! Did you have a good day today?”- the lady held the leash and caressed her dog’s head a few times before returning her attention fully to my husband.

- “Thank you for taking care of him.”

- “You are very welcome, Kim. It’s my job.”

- “No, it’s more than that. Rascal hates strangers, and he has been an angel with you since day one. I tell you, Chip, you are someone special.”

I know my husband blushed, ‘cos he is terrible with compliments. So he just shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. His shirt raised, showing his very toned midsection. And I swear, I had to force myself to stay put on that chair, ‘cos the way that woman looked at my husband was enough to make my blood boil. I wanted to run over and push her away from him. I wished I could tell her to get her dog and get the fuck out of our property.

But no. I didn’t. Instead, I tried to keep on reading, which was honestly impossible. But at least I didn’t move from my chair. I just stared at that scene, trying to control the urges of smashing that woman’s head against her car.

- “So, do you have plans for the weekend?”- the woman asked him, smiling flirtatiously

- “Not really.”- not the smartest answer, I’ll give you that.

- “Great! that means you can’t say no! I am having a small get-together at my place this Friday. You should totally come.”

- “Thank you, Kim, but...”

- “I’ll text you my address. I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Chip was awkward, he felt pushed to say he’d go, but I knew he didn’t want to. If he did, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Besides, he wouldn’t usually make plans without asking me first. A part of me wanted to run and help him out of that awkward situation, but I knew he had to do it on his own. Yes, he was a grown-up, but after knowing everything he had gone through before we met, a big part of me wanted to take care of him constantly. I didn’t want anything wrong ever to happen to Chip. He didn’t deserve anything bad.

- “Thanks, Kim, really, but… I think I should ask my wife first”- he whispered and smiled kindly at the woman, who didn’t hide the disappointment from her face. I have the feeling she never actually saw the ring on my husband’s finger.

- “Wife? I had no idea you were married, Chip”- he chuckled and nodded as the woman tried to act normal again. But she couldn’t.

- “Yes, I’ve been married for the last ten months.”

- “Just ten months? Well, she is a lucky woman…”

- “Thank you”- Chip petted Rascal’s head and added- “But I am sure I am the lucky one to have her. I still can’t believe she actually married me.”

- “Come on, Chip! Any woman would be happy with a man like you.”

And that was when that woman crossed the line and rubbed my husband’s arm for longer than necessary. He froze and looked at her, not knowing how to get out of that situation. Chip is a sweet soul who still has some significant issues when it comes to setting boundaries.

I jumped from my chair and walked over quickly, with a big smile on my face. The woman turned to me and raised an eyebrow, clearly not knowing who I was.

- “Hello, sorry to interrupt you, boo, but it’s getting late for our date.”

We didn’t have a date that night. But well, now we did.

Chip frowned, confused, and waited for me to explain a little more what I was saying. But, instead, I just smiled and held his hand, making sure that the woman’s hand was as far from him as possible.

- “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N), Chip’s wife.”- I said and waved.

- “Kimberly, nice to meet you.”

- “So you are Rascal’s mom. He is a sweetheart”- I kneeled and petted Rascal’s head behind his ears, right where I knew he liked it. Kim just nodded and smiled.

- “Ok, we should go, it’s getting late. Bye Chip”- she waved quickly, walking to her car. My husband said goodbye and wrapped an arm around my waist as I stood by his side and rested my head on his shoulder.

- “We are not going to her “little get-together,” by the way”- I whispered, and he chuckled.

- “Good, ’cause I didn’t want to go either. I actually had plans for the weekend, but I didn’t want to discuss them with her.”- I looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and felt his big hands caressing the lower part of my back.

- “Which plans?”

- “I’m planning to stay in bed with my wife the whole weekend, watch movies, kiss her a lot, and maybe asking for pizza.”

- “You had me at ˝stay in bed,” Chip Taylor”- I giggled and kissed his cheek- “She was flirting with you, by the way.”

- “I don’t care if she tried to flirt. I only have eyes for you, moonbeam”- I chuckled at the cheesy nickname and felt his lips on mine. They felt warm and soft and filled with love.

But it wasn’t always so easy to shake off the thoughts of a woman flirting with Chip. Unfortunately, sometimes it was harder to remain calm. Some women were more aggressive with their flirting. Some were actually way hotter than me, and sometimes that makes you doubt yourself.

I didn’t know Liza or Violet, so I never knew if they were prettier, more intelligent, or sexier than me. I couldn’t compare or compete with them either, ‘cos they were dead. But some random women made my life a little more challenging from time to time.

- “Chip? Chip Taylor?”- a soft woman’s voice interrupted our conversation and forced my husband to turn around, feeling now also her hand on his shoulder. We were at our favorite bar, having a drink, celebrating the end of the week and another successful month of Chip’s small business. We were chatting about our days, sitting at our usual table, when interrupted.

- “Anna Davis? Hi! How are you?! Long time no see!”- my husband stood up and hugged the stranger like long-lost friends reunited. I had never heard of any “Anna” before. I was trying to remember if I did.

- “I haven’t seen you in ages! What are you doing here?”- Anna said and laughed- “I can’t believe it’s really you!”- and so, they hugged again.

- “Hi”- I waved from the table and smiled at the two of them as they moved apart.

- “I’m so sorry, babe. (Y/N), this is Anna, my neighbor when I was in middle school. Anna, this is (Y/N), my wife.”

- “Hi, nice to meet you”- she shook my hand and smiled at me for a second, and then turned to my husband again and continued catching up.

Chip looked happy and excited to see her. He didn’t have many friends, he still didn’t know how to trust most people, probably why he decided to work with animals instead. He had a good relationship with Jim, the boy who helped him clean, and with a few classmates from the community college. But that was it.

- “I can’t believe you are here!”- Chip was beaming- “Are you with someone?”

- “My friends were leaving. I’m visiting one of my best friends, who moved here a few years ago. But she has to work tomorrow morning, so she wanted to go home.”

- “Do you wanna sit with us for a while?”- Chip asked her and turned to me smiling. Of course, I couldn’t say no. Well, he didn’t actually ask; he just looked at me, and I moved my chair to make room for one more on the table.

- “I would love to! Thank you!.”

I loved the idea of meeting Anna, at first. I didn’t know many people from my husband’s past, basically just his parents. The fact she was his friend growing up sounded amazing, and it meant I could finally talk with someone who knew him when he was a kid and could tell me more stories about my husband.

But Anna had other plans. My husband blinded Anna. She basically ignored me, and he was so excited to see her and talk to her, he didn’t even notice I was being left out of the whole conversation.

At first, it was ok. Chip wanted to catch up with Anna, know what she was doing with her life, and all that. So he asked for her parents and family. Apparently, they were pretty close growing up.

- “Remember each Friday we had a secret sleepover?”- she asked and laughed. My husband nodded and sipped his drink.

- “Yeah! I would sneak into your house and watch a movie.”

- “You know, my parents knew you were coming to hang out after curfew. They just didn’t think it was wrong”- she added and laughed- “I’m just glad they didn’t know about the day we tried smoking for the first time!”

Chip burst into laughter, and so did Anna. I just stared at them and sighed. Neither of them explained the story. They were just too caught up in each other to even notice I was there.

Yes, I was feeling jealous of Chip’s long-lost childhood friend. I knew it made no sense, but somehow, he completely forgot I existed when she was there. Yes, it was probably ‘cos he was surprised to bump into her at a bar on a random night after so many years.

But the more I looked at her, the more I realized she was gorgeous. She had long legs, beautiful golden hair, green eyes. The girl could go to a freaking beauty pageant and win it. Besides, Anna wasn’t acting friendly, if you ask me. She kept rubbing my husband’s arm, repeating how excited she was to see him, and saying over and over again how good he looked… it was a little too much.

- “I tell you, Chip, you haven’t changed a bit!”- Anna smiled and looked into his chocolate eyes, and I swear she nearly sighed. I couldn’t blame her. He is dreamy. But he is my husband, and it felt wrong.

- “Neither have you,”- he added and turned to me for a second. I looked kindly into his eyes, knowing he was happy, and that was enough to make me feel happy too.

- “Can I get you another drink, moonbeam?”- he asked me and stood up.

- “Yes, penguin, please”- Chip nodded and blushed as I called him by his favorite nickname and then turned to Anna.

- “Another?”

- “Sure!”

And suddenly, we were on our own.

- “So, how long have you been married?”- Anna asked me and looked at me innocently.

- “A little over ten months.”

- “Just married! Congratulations. You must still be living the honeymoon!”

- “Yes, we are.”- I giggled and turned to look at Chip, waiting for our drink at the bar. It wasn’t hard being stuck at the honeymoon phase with him. Every day, he made every day feel like the first day we were together, even after three years of dating and ten months married.

- “We used to date when we were kids,”- Anna simply said and chuckled - “It was very childish, but I was his first kiss.”

- “Really?”- I smiled at her, making my best not to look jealous at all. “That’s so cute!”

- “He is adorable. He was the sweetest boy growing up.”- Anna added and kept her eyes on Chip. But for a few seconds, I could see the longing in them, and my struggle not to show how jealous I was got a little harder.

- “So when was the last time you saw Chip?”- I asked and kept my eyes on her, reading her expressions. It took her a few extra seconds to stop staring at him to turn and look at me.

- “When I moved out of town when I was fifteen.”- she sighed and chuckled- “Seems it was a lifetime ago.”

- “Ok, here are your drinks,”- Chip appeared and smiled- “Plus, I ordered some more nachos, ‘cos I’m getting hungry.”- I chuckled and held his hand upon the table, playing with his fingers between mine. Chip looked at me and opened his mouth to say something when Anna interrupted him.

- “Remember that summer you broke your arm ‘cos you fell from the tree in Shawn’s backyard?”

And my husband laughed, forgetting what he was going to tell me.

I stood in front of the mirror and tried to fix my makeup. I looked tired. I was tired. It was Friday night, and I wasn’t twenty-three anymore. I was weary, and all I could think of was getting into my bed with my husband and getting good twelve-hour sleep.

But he and Anna were still talking and having a blast together, remembering the good old times. Now, if you ask me, I had the feeling Anna wanted to do more than just talking to my husband, but he was oblivious to any of her intentions. That was until I walked out of the bathroom and saw Anna’s arm wrapped around Chip as they were dancing.

She was dancing with my husband, and he was laughing. Ok, that hurt. It hurt a lot.

I sat at our table and drank what was left of my drink. I stared at them for a moment and evaluated my options. I could storm out of that place, maybe make a scene and yell. But no, I trusted my husband. I knew he wasn’t trying to hurt me or even cheat on me with her. No. He was naive and a little awkward. But by the way Anna’s hands moved on his body, clearly, she wasn’t naive at all.

- “Oh! I’m sorry!”- Anna said laughing when they reached back our table- “I just asked Chip to dance with me ‘cos I love that song.”

- “That’s ok”- I smiled at her and held my husband’s hand tight upon the table.

- “But Chip is such a great dancer! He really knows how to move!”- Anna was asking for it. She wanted to be smacked. But I behaved.

- “He really does,”- I answered and smiled

- “I hope you are not jealous!”- I turned to her and frowned, pretending to be confused

- “Of course not! Why would I?”

- “I don’t know! It’s just that… he was mine way before he was yours and…”

- “He isn’t mine”- I cut her off, and for once, my voice stopped being nice and friendly- “And he is definitely not yours. He is not a dog, Anna, he is a person, and the only owner of his soul is himself.”

Anna stared at me in silence, and Chip wide opened his eyes, surprised by my tone of voice.

- “What I’m trying to say is that… I met him when…”

- “I know what you are trying to imply Anna, you’ve been trying to do it ever since you sat at our table. You feel like you need to prove something, but you don’t. Really.”

Chip held my hand tight and kissed it sweetly. He didn’t say anything to me. He just looked at me with apologetic eyes as I cut him a short smile.

- “Ok, I think I better go now”- Anna stood up and just waved- “It was great seeing you again, Chip.”

My husband smiled and waved as Anna walked away. Then, when he was sure she had left the place, he turned to me. I sipped what was left of my drink and sighed.

- “Sorry if I was rude”- my words were a whisper only Chip could hear.

- “No, moonbeam. You weren’t rude at all. I’m sorry.”

- “Chip Taylor, you didn’t do anything wrong”- I leaned and kissed his lips softly, cupping his face with both hands.

- “I feel like I did.”

- “No, boo, really. She was… clearly trying to get under your belt.”

- “I shouldn’t have danced with her, but she pushed me...”- Chip excused himself and kissed my hand again, as I still held his face and caressed her cheeks with my thumbs.

- “Yeah, you should work on that “No” thing a little harder,”- I whispered and chuckled.

- “Sorry if she made you feel jealous. I had a huge crush on her when we were kids.”

- “She said she was your first kiss”- Chip opened my mouth, but no word came from it for a few seconds.

- “Funny, I told her that just ‘cos she said I was her first kiss, but actually my first kiss was with her cousin Alice.”

I couldn’t hold back the laughter as Chip looked at me with guilty eyes as if that was the biggest secret he had about his past.

- “Well, I bet if I run, I can still catch her!! I need to tell her the news!!”- I said and stood up, just to feel Chip’s arms around me, protectively.

- “Let her think that. We all know who all my kisses belong to now.”

Chip held me tight and close to him as his lips rubbed mine slowly. I felt my head spin as his tongue slowly touched mine, deepening the kiss. I couldn’t help but moan at the sensation of Chip’s sweet and passionate kiss. He made sure to make me feel how much he loved him every time he kissed me. In a weird way, Chip’s kisses always felt like our first and last. I think he was always trying to show me his feelings, ‘cos his previous trauma taught him he didn’t know when a kiss could be the last.

- “I love you so much, Mrs. Taylor,”- he whispered, and the title made my knees feel weak- “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

- “I love you more, Mr. Taylor,”- I replied and kissed his lips sweetly one more time- “And just between you and me, I am completely yours.”- I confessed and giggled nervously.

- “I am yours too, moonbeam. You own my heart, and I only want you.”- he whispered and kissed me one more time.

- “You just want me?”- I repeated, and he nodded, looking into my eyes filled with love- “Of all those women who wanna do you, you just want me?”

- “Which women?”- he asked me, clearly confused

- “A lot of women out there keep giving you the fuck eyes.”

- “What?! No way”

- “Do you think Kim invited you to her house for a small get-together? She wanted to get under your belt, penguin.”

- “But I am your penguin, that means I am not looking for any other woman. I just want you.”

- “Just me,”- I repeated again, and he nodded.

- “Just you, Mrs. Taylor”- I sighed, pleased, and closed my eyes for a second “Wanna go home?”

- “You still have to dance with me,”- I pouted, and he held my hand.

- “Whatever my wife wants.”

--

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561 @all-tings-diego

[safyresky]

I'm not sure I've told you guys about my trashy neighbours, but I'm gonna tell you now bc I've been living in the spare bedroom at the back of the house which has the perfect view of their porch where they hang out being trashy, and, when the window is open, surround sound of whatever the shit they're going on about, and was just woken up by their bs!

Some quick notes for y'all on their general nature:

There's three of them; trashy woman (we call her trashy trish), her partner who is ur stereotypical bad sitcom hubby to match her bad sitcom wife vibes, and a third girl who is ?????? Related??? To them??? I think???

Wife likes to smoke sitting on her porch and glare in our general direction

Two winters ago they came charging at me while I was shovelling the snow, mad because I had APPARENTLY blocked their driveway while shovelling my snow over to the snow bank across the street bc there's no space for snowbanks on our side

Trashy wife was like "I'VE GOT PICTURES OF YOU DOIN IT!! I'LL CALL THE COPS!!" then proceeded to trip and fall and roll like a potato on a patch of ice (a story for another time)

It was amazing

The husband recently traded in his car for a honda civic with a loud ass muffler

He enjoys revving the engine on purpose and doing burnouts in the street, also on purpose

Called it a "civ" when his work friends came over to help him "work" on said civ

"hey man let me show you how a CIV does it"

(I'm not sure if those words are HAUNTING me or living rent free in my brain tbh)

he then proceeds to do a burnout so nasty the house smelt like burnt rubber for five minutes after

Got so annoyed at their upstairs neighbour for helping my neighbour with her driveway, because she was parking in it, that same winter the potato roll took place, that they were horrible enough to her that she moved out

Their reasoning for being mad about it: she wasn't helping with THEIR driveway even though she wasn't using it 🤦🏻‍♀️

Third girl has a boo thang who drives a smart car and ALWAYS PARKS IT THE WRONG WAY ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE ROAD

So that's a quick round up of their best moments to preface what I just woke up to!

I live in a university town, and unfortunately the kids in this town like to celebrate something called FOCO, which is short for FAKE homecoming. The reason why it existed was for students from years ago when HOCO was banned. However, HOCO has been back for years at this point, but when the students came back after a year and or two of being remote, they were RAVENOUS for parties and seemingly brought it back even tho it was totally unnecessary.

This weekend is "FOCO". Next weekend is "HOCO". There is no football game next weekend which defeats the purpose of HOCO. The alumni are supposed to come back and watch a game and bond with current students, but when there's no football game (american football) it's like ??? Tf???

Anyway for a FOCO weekend, it's been relatively quiet--probably bc most people are sick with various flus and ronas, if the pharmacy shelves yesterday were anything to go off of. And on the school sub, anytime someone asked about foco about 8 to 10 users replied "foco is stupid, just let it die". It seems to be getting a bit loud next door now though, and apparently across the street at trashy Trisha's place.

I was asleep trying to fight a potentially covid induced headache (came up negative Thursday night, but my fiance was positive so I'm sure it's only a matter of time) when I am awoken to a crude rendition of Trashy Trisha's Greatest Hits, ft the not so soothing background vocals of her Cuckold Husband and Girl-Who-May-Be-Related-To-Them. Featuring songs we know and love such as:

FUCKING UNI LOOKING MOTHER FUCKER

YEAH YOU BETTER RUN YOU PIECE OF SHIT STUDENT

GOD I FUCKING HATE STUDENTS

FUCKING UNI CLOTHES WEARING TWINK

And so on and so on.

In my sleepy headache induced haze I perk up, and surmise this from the screeching across the way: a group of students were walking and decided to smash a mirror to pieces. Trashy Trish saw them and rallied her troops, and all three of them were shouting and yelling at the students who had the misfortune of being seen by the grumpiest woman on the street. Shouts of I SAW YA followed by YEAHHHHHS from her two satellites has me feeling like I'm listening to Myrtle Lilo and Stitch go off about some shit while her croonies go YEAHHHHHHHHH beside her. Where's Lilo with her fists of fury when you need them, eh?

Anyway they run off to the building across the street, which they have the misfortune of living in, and Trashy Trish is screeching like something that screeches, and her Cuckold Hubbers hops into the sedan (not the civ) and GUNS IT down the street to get a better look at these three kids who simply gave in to a destructive need while under the influence, as do we all at one point (sometimes even without influence. Destruction is FUN).

He races back like he's the fucking block captain or some shit and confirms that it's three kids and they're wearing this and that and Trashy Trish is like IM GONNA CALL THE COPS ON THEM ALL and I'm like good fucking luck bc the last time we did that after seeing which apartment stole the stop sign, the cops didn't do shit lmao.

Anyway, I rolled out of bed to check on the fiance and went downstairs to water the plants I put outside again bc the weekend is going to be VERY WARM, and guess what I didn't see?

The smashed up mirror Trashy Trish was so hopped up about.

[keijislove]

Dance the Night Away: Peter Parker X Reader

A/N: This ain’t following any particular timeline – let’s just say... idk, after Far from Home, maybe?

WARNING: use of the ‘P’ word (Flash being Flash)

Peter walked down the hallway amidst the chatter, trying to reach his locker as the crowd grew thicker and thicker, making it impossible for him to even see properly. Which was until a hand seized his wrist and pulled him through, letting go of him as he smashed into the storage compartment with force enough to make his brains rattle.

“Oops, sorry,” you said with a sheepish smile.

Peter had turned to thank whoever it was, but, catching sight of you, he groaned. Not that he didn’t like you – you and Peter had been best friends since you were eight years old. Recently, however, a banner had been put up by the senior girls announcing that prom would be taking place the following Saturday. And with only about five days left, you had taken to pestering Peter into going, hoping that if you’d fling the question unexpectedly, Peter would get scared into answering. You had, however, no luck so far.

“Y/N, I know what you’re going to say,” Peter warningly began, “And I don’t wanna hear it.”

“But I wanna say it,” you said, “And that I shall. Peter, come on! It’s a crucial life experience! I mean, you’re studying all the time these days, and I get it, you have a clear view of your future, and I’m happy for you. But pleeeaaaaaaase, just do it for me? It’s one night, Peter, come on! One night where you have to let go and just have fun! After that, we can go back to making circuit boards together like we used to, but just this once? C’mon, don’t tell me you’re turning me down.”

As you took a deep breath after this whole rant and Peter took one look at your sincere smile, he sighed.

“... Fine,” he mumbled.

Your eyes grew wide. Surely you’d misheard?

“What?” you asked, “Louder, please?”

“Fine!” Peter bellowed loudly so that a dozen heads turned in your direction and people began snickering.

Not caring in the least, you flashed a wide smile before engulfing Peter into a huge hug, speaking, “Thank you so much! It’ll be the best experience of your life, Peter!”

“Yes, that means better than your spiderman stuff,” you whispered in an undertone as Peter said a disbelieving, “Come on!”

Needless to say, you had finally convinced Peter to go to prom. Now came the hard part. Truth was, you had liked Peter since you were both, what, fourteen? Convincing Peter to go to prom was a task for the strong, but asking him to be your date? No way would he feel the same. Peter had never ever hinted, that your relationship could be more. In fact, he felt rather frantic to prove it couldn’t be more – something that convinced you that you did not belong together and that, someday, you would have to get over this silly little crush. Still, seeing Peter go to prom with any girl who made him happy was enough for you.

“Right, now that we’re going,” you said the following morning, when he’d found you standing next to his locker, waiting for him to arrive.

Peter sighed, “Mm hmm?”

“We need dates,” you ignored his disinterest.

“Do you have one?” asked Peter.

“It.... it’s complicated,” you muttered.

Peter crossed his arms, “Listening.”

You shot him a glare before sighing and telling him, “There’s... there’s this boy I like. I was really hoping he would ask me to homecoming back then, and I turned down anybody who asked me just to chase that blind belief. Guess what? He didn’t ask me. And I know he won’t now, but I don’t know... something inside me still hopes he would.”

“So, you’re scared to say yes to anyone in case he asked you but scared to say no to everyone in case he doesn’t ask you?” Peter clarified, causing you to laugh.

“Sounds about right.” you muttered, “But hey, enough about me, what about you? We need a date for you. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“Not really,” Peter shrugged.

“Okay....” you said slowly, “Well, I’ll just list off people you would be happy with as they come to my mind... maybe you can ask one of them.”

“Fire away.”

“Okay... well, there’s Emma Jones from my biology class,” you began, “And she’s really nice.”

“Not my type.”

“Oh,” you frowned, “Okay... Alyssa from P.E?”

“The one who said spiderman sucks? No thanks.”

“Zoe from English?”

“Nope.”

“Ava from chemistry lab?”

“Meh.”

“... MJ?” you asked in defeat as Peter incredulously looked at you (A/N: sorry MJ, I love you <3).

“Okay, fine,” you snapped, “I’m done helping. Let me know if you find someone?”

Peter gave another nod as the two of you made your way to class.

------

You were panicking. Two days were all that were left, and so far, you had turned down countless boys including Flash Gordon who had swore and made rude hand gestures at you as a way to handle rejection. You didn’t know what was wrong – why was this impossible hope of Peter asking you still clouding your possibilities of a relationship?

Peter knew nothing of this – yet he annoyed you. If he was too blind to notice that you were madly in love with him, why did the very sight of his face make your brain go empty?

Now with one day left and nobody to ask you, you slumped moodily throughout the day, not talking and sitting silently at lunchtime, stabbing your potatoes pretending that it was your feelings for Peter.

“Okay you’re freaking me out now,” Peter said as the two of you were walking home and you still hadn’t opened your mouth.

“No date – again. God, this is just like homecoming,” you groaned.

Peter looked surprised.

“I thought a lot of guys asked you?”

“They did!” you moaned, “It’s just – that guy, I don’t know why he has this effect on me. It’s like – we weren’t meant to be together or maybe I wasn’t meant to go out with anyone ever.”

“Hey, that’s not true,” said Peter with something new in his expression. Behind the terribly unconvincing ‘concerned best friend’ mask, you saw a flicker of something... smugness? No, you were dreaming. You hadn’t eaten all day – this was probably a side-effect.

“You know what, I’m gonna grab a sandwich at Delmar’s,” you muttered, “I haven’t eaten since morning. Do you want to come?”

“Sorry, I promised May I’d come home,” he sheepishly said, “She wanted me to go get an outfit with her.”

“Oh,” you snickered, “Good luck with that. See you tomorrow!”

“See you.”

And with a heavy heart, you walked away from your only chance of having the person you cared about most as your date to prom.

--------

“Oh god, what was I thinking?” you muttered, staring the reflection of you in a(n) F/C dress with your hair styled <inert preferred style here>.

“This is stupid!” you said to no one in particular, before taking a deep breath and walking to the apartment across from yours and knocking on the door.

The door opened to reveal Peter.

“Oh, good you’re here, this will take just a second, May wants to –” he stopped abruptly, staring at you with eyes round as saucers.

“Um,” you began, he still kept staring.

“Earth to Peter, you still in there?” you snapped your fingers in front of his face as he blinked and turned a delicate shade of red.

“You – you look nice,” he managed to choke out.

“Thanks...?” you said, walking inside and taking a seat on the couch.

“Okay, um, M-may will take us there in her c-car, she’ll be h-here any moment, let’s just w-wait.”

“Pete, you having a stroke or something?” you asked in concern.

“No, I’m fine.” (A/N: he’s not 😉)

As if she had sensed Peter’s need to be rescued, Aunt May came walking into the room. She stopped at the sight of her nephew staring slightly at you, who was examining a coffee mug on the table. Smiling to herself, she cleared her throat.

Both of you jumped in surprise.

“We’re ready to go,” May stated, as the two of you got to your feet, following her to the car.

----------

“This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” you asked, looking at the doors of your school gym which were closed ominously.

“Why?” asked Peter in surprise, “I thought you wanted to go?”

“I do,” you admitted, “But – we don’t have dates, it’ll look so... lame.”

Peter scoffed, “Y/N, do you really need the dimwits that attend this school to justify how many cool points you have?”

“Not exactly,” you said in surprise, feeling slightly better.

“Yeah, come on, let’s just do it. Together, okay?” asked Peter as you nodded.

You both took nervous, deep breaths before pushing the doors open to reveal the commotion inside.

--------

You two were walking across the gym, interestedly examining the decorations ang pulling faces at the couples which were making out, till you bumped into something hard.

“OOF!” you groaned, falling to the floor.

“You okay?” Peter asked hurriedly, pulling you to your feet. As you both turned to look who it was, you were surprised to see Flash standing there with his mouth hanging open.

“No way,” he said, gaping, “HEY EVERYONE, LOOK! IT’S DATELESS L/N AND PENIS PARKER!”

You groaned as a million heads turned your way and slowly, the laughter broke out, jeers of the obscene names Flash had called you now echoing off the walls.

“Haha, real funny, Flash,” Peter said sarcastically, but once he saw your near-tears expression, he seized your wrist and pulled you out of the gym into the open.

“Come on,” he pacifyingly said, “Don’t cry over him, Y/N! He’s not worth it.”

“This is homecoming all over again,” you groaned, struggling to contain your tears, “School dances were never meant for me. Let’s just – let’s just go home and finish making that model spaceship we were working on.”

“Sounds like a worthwhile night to me,” Peter shrugged, tossing a brave smile your way, “You don’t need prom to be happy, you know. Let’s go.”

And so the two of you walked home, talking amongst yourselves, being the best friends you’d been since eight.

Best friends.

The sound of that word made your blood boil hot. How naïve were you? This was absolutely perfect – a million guys on the planet and you chose to fall for one who would never see you the same way.

As your apartment building came closer, Peter cleared his throat and spoke, “Wait in the living room with May for ten minutes. I have a surprise for you.”

“Seriously?” you asked, taken aback.

“Yeah, why not?”

“What is it?” you asked curiously.

Peter cocked an eyebrow.

“Kinda missing the point of a surprise if I told you what it was.”

“Makes sense,” you agreed, “Okay, but make it quick. I’m dying of curiosity.”

“You’ll live for another ten minutes,” Peter assured you.

Your curiosity was now bubbling to the surface like boiling water threatening to spill. You thought of what Peter could possibly have to surprise you, and you stopped to sit on a couch in the living room next to Peter’s aunt.

After exhausting every possibility (each as unlikely as the next), Peter finally dragged you ti the door of his room.

“... I’ve seen your room before, you know,” you laughed slightly.

“That’s not the surprise,” Peter playfully rolled his eyes, “Okay, close your eyes.”

“Jesus, Peter,” you snorted as his hands placed themselves over your eyes, “You are such a drama queen.”

“Open them... now!”

And you opened your eyes to see that the usual clutter surrounding Peter’s room had been cleared away, leaving some space for god-knows-what in the middle of it.

“Wow, you finally cleaned your room!” you exclaimed, “That is a surprise.”

“That’s still not the surprise!” Peter whined, “C’mere.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you close as your brain clouded with confusion. What the heck was going on?

Peter threw his phone aside as a light waltz began playing through the air. Peter placed one hand on your waist and the other one to grab yours as your confusion cleared away.

“You said you wanted to go to prom,” Peter stated as you two swayed on the spot, moving slightly to the music, “You didn’t say where. Now we’re away from judgy eyes, we can be weird.”

“Seriously, Peter?” you giggled at his dorkiness, “I never knew you were so cute.”

The words had slipped from your mouth before you had time to think them through. You were praying he didn’t hear you, but a hitch in his breath made your heart drop.

“You – you think I’m cute?” Peter asked, blushing furiously.

“Well,” you sighed, there was no backing out of this, “... Yeah, I do.”

You looked down, refusing to meet his eyes.

“And the guy you wanted to get asked by...?” Peter didn’t need to finish his question; he knew you understood.

“Yes,” you whispered, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes once more.

You sucked in a deep breath and looked up, “Look, Peter, I know you don’t feel the same and it’s honestly okay –”

“Shut up,” Peter mumbled, his lips brushing over yours. Your lips brushed together a few times as the both of you melted into the addicting sensation, not aware of the surroundings, not caring in the least. To Peter, all that mattered in that moment, was you.

You two pulled apart after a while, both blushing like crazy with no idea what to do next. It was you who spoke first, shyly.

“I – I think it’s a good thing we’re alone right now. That would be an embarrassing yearbook photo.”

[sarija]

@expectingtofly @starrynightdeancas

Here's my first ever written fanfic as a gift for @expectingtofly who never received her original gift from starrynightdeancas gift exchange. Enjoy 🙂

Words: 3657

Notes at the end of this post!

Home

“So I guess the question is,” Bobby asks, “What're ya gonna do now, Dean?”

Dean looks at baby, considering. He smiles back at Bobby and answers, “Well, I gotta go for a drive.”

 

 

After about ten miles, Dean pulls over. There's a lookout just a few steps from the road, and he follows the trail to the end, feeling overwhelmed by the info Bobby has given him. Cas is here. He helped Jack rebuilding Heaven. He remembers the last time he'd seen Cas. He would have given everything to see him again, to get him back, but all the efforts he and Sam had tried on Earth were useless. Now, there's a good chance he might see Cas again and he has no idea what to say to him.

At this moment, he feels the presence of someone beside him. Anxiously he turns around. For a moment, he hopes to see Cas, but instead, it's Jack and a warm feeling of relief washes over him. He doesn't know if he's ready just yet.

“Jack!” He exclaims, pulling Jack into a tight hug. “It's so good to see you, kid!”

Jack hugs him back, clapping him on the back before freeing himself. “Hey, Dean. It's good to see you too. I'm sorry I couldn't intervene...but I'm glad you are here.” Dean just shakes his head.

“You know, kid, Sam and I had an agreement of going down smashing, and this I did. I … I have no resentments over this.”

Jack offers him a short nod before saying, “Dean, I think there's someone who wants to see you. Are you ready?”

Dean then notices a figure standing way back, beside one of the bushes. He is ready. He has to be. He's been waiting so long to see him again, he can't even believe that he doubted he was ready in the first place. Dean swallows back a big lump in his throat. He walks a few steps. There he is. Just beside a big flowerbed, bees humming around busily, Dean sees him standing in the glow of the setting sun. He lets his eyes wander from the well-known boots upwards, over the hem of this trenchcoat he missed so damn much. The coat is glistening in the sunlight, it looks like it's giving off a light of itself. Over the blue tie, upwards, over the 5-o'clock beard, then those soft lips, further to these warm and blue eyes, deep like the ocean, light as a cloudless sky. And Cas is looking back at him, wondering, tilting his head just a little, the way he always did, back then when they were on Earth. Dean doesn't feel the single tear running down his cheek, he doesn't see Jack looking happily at him, he can only see Cas, standing there in the sun, looking like the most beautiful being he's ever seen in his whole life. Cas, his friend, his family, his angel and most importantly – the love of his life.

He steps forward slowly, afraid that this is just a dream, one of those damned dreams he's had over the weeks after Cas had been gone, had thrown himself into the Empty. In his dreams, Cas was there, waiting for him, but all of a sudden, he'd be gone, swallowed up by a big nothingness, or bursting out in flames and screaming in pain, or saying 'I love you, Dean' but retreating while Dean wanted to get to him, to hug him, to hold him, until his angel was gone and away.

But Cas is still there, smiling now, looking at Dean with his amazingly blue eyes. He lifts his hands and whispers “Dean” and Dean can't keep it any longer. He takes the last steps in a few fast strides and falls into Cas' arms, pulling him into a tight hug and crying silent tears onto his shoulder. Cas starts stroking his hair, softly, hushing and repeating all over “It's okay, Dean” until they both break apart. Dean doesn't want to let go of Cas, he holds his arms, looks at him over and over, but he can't find the words to describe how much this means to him. So he just stands there, breathing heavily, watching him, until he feels Cas' hand upon his cheeks, wiping away the tears on Dean's face. And all of a sudden, Dean knows there's no need to hold anything back anymore, there's no need to hide anything, because there's nothing here to threaten them. Nothing is going to take Cas away ever again.

Dean swallows, clears his throat.

“Cas... I …You ... How?” is all he manages.

Cas shakes his head. “I'll tell you later. We've got all the time in the world now.” He looks at Jack, who is still standing a little way behind them, smiling. “Now, who wants to have some dinner?”

--

They take the Impala to drive to Cas' place. While Dean is driving, he's absurdly aware of Cas sitting beside him in the passenger's  seat. He even feels the intensity of Cas' eyes upon him, until he finally blurts out, “Hey buddy, it's good to see you too but – could you please stop staring at me? I'm not a freak show, y'know?” At that, Jack snorts loudly in the back, clapping Dean on his shoulder. He doesn't say anything else, but Dean knows that he's enjoying this moment as much as he is. He sends a small smile to Jack and Cas, but Cas has turned his face away from him, looking out of the window instead, chin in his hand. For a moment, Dean worries if his words had hurt the angel. This would be the last thing he'd want to do, especially on the first day of meeting him again. He wonders if he should say something, anything, to make sure everything's fine. But what should he say? Tell him he didn't mean it? He never was a man of apologies, and Cas knows that. He just wanted him to look away, cause his staring was so freaking distracting. He wants to return his gaze, he wants to never stop looking into those amazing eyes, eyes that had seen so much, eyes that had looked so worried at times, Dean almost couldn't even bare it. He wants Cas to be happy, to smile, to forget the bad stuff he'd lived through. And now he'd said something that hurt him. Why was it so hard to just take it back? He never knew, cause right at this moment Jack spoke up.

“It's the light blue house over there, Dean. Just drive up to the front, there's a parking spot for you beside Cas' car.”

Dean drives as being told, parking beside a yellow-brown-ish '78 Lincoln Continental. He recognizes it instantly, it's the same car Cas had been using whenever he wanted to get something done on his own, and Cas had always seemed pretty fond of it. It brings back a lot of memories and Dean starts smiling involuntary.

They get out of Dean's car and step up the front porch. Cas takes the lead, opening the white door for them, welcoming both into his home. Dean risks a quick glance at him before entering. Cas doesn't seem to be hurt anymore, he looks pleased and happy. And Dean thinks he understands why.

Dean enters the hallway, looking around and taking in as many details as he can. There is a kitchen to his right, with wooden fronts and very clean. Right ahead there's an arc, decorated with roses in different colours – red, white, yellow, lilac and pale blue. They are rooted in two pink flower pots, one on either side of the arc. To his left are two wooden doors. He guesses that one would probably lead to the bathroom, the other one he's got no idea. They walk through the arc, entering a really big living room, bright and clear. The windows here let the sun warm up the room just enough to feel right, and the light-colored furniture reflects rays of sunshine without blinding them. 'It's perfect', Dean thinks to himself, wondering where Cas got those pictures of them and Sam in the bunker. One of the photos shows them with their hands on one another's shoulders, smiling into the camera. Dean can see his own forced smile, dark circles under wary looking eyes. He takes the photograph of it's shelf, looking at him, Cas and Sam. Sammy. He's looking back at him out of the picture, smiling and waving and looking contend and happy.

“Dean.”

He forces himself to put the photo back on the shelf and turns around to see Cas standing in the doorway.

“You know, he's not a freak show,” Cas mimics, but Dean can see he's worried.

“Thanks, Cas. I know. It's just … I hope he's alright, I hope he's living a good life down there, but -”

“You miss him.” Cas finishes. It's not a question, it's a statement.

“Yeah, man,” is all he can answer. He turns around to wipe at something in his eyes, then turns again and asks, “When will we be eating?”

“In a few minutes. We're waiting for … someone to arrive here, it won't be much longer now.”

Just as Cas finishes his sentence, they hear a soft knock on the door and someone entering the house.

“Who is this?” Dean asks, but Cas is already on his way to the kitchen and Dean just follows.

 

–

 

Dean still can't believe it. He just finished his second helping of T-Bone-Steak, mashed potatoes and fried rice, everything as delicious as he'd hoped for (he'd left out the vegetables). His stomach is full and he leans back really satisfied. This is amazing. He hadn't given a thought to the fact that now that he was in Heaven, he might meet his mom and dad again. Seeing all of them on this table in Cas' dining room – Mary and John, Cas, Jack and Bobby – laughing, eating, smiling, talking about things they did 'down there' and things to do 'up here', it was unbelievable. Dean watches all of them closely. They look so full of joy he can't help grinning like an idiot. His mom is laughing hard from a joke of John and Dean enjoys to see her relaxed and free of worries. His dad claps her on the back, then starts to stroke her gently. He too looks unstressed, there's no trace of the old, haunted John in his face anymore. Even Bobby, though still being his grumpy self, seems pleased.

“Alright, Dean, I think it's time for a little storytime.” Cas watches him intently as he explains, “I think you wanted to know how I could escape The Empty and start my new life here.”

 

--

 

All eyes are upon Cas now. Mary puts the plates away, coming back with two six-packs of beer. She hands everyone a beer and Cas starts talking.

“As most of you know, I went with The Empty willingly, keeping my side of the deal we had made way back. Several months ago, there was a problem at hand. The Empty wanted to keep Jack. I told her to take me instead of him and she agreed to that but wanted to be sure to crush me. So she told me that she wouldn't just swap - she'd come and get me as soon as I would be truly happy. And that she did. When we talked, Dean, I had made a choice”. At this, Cas sends him the slightest smile, which makes Dean want to forgive him in an instant. “Well, as you know, this choice led to me being taken by that bitch. For a while, I lay there in nothingness, black nothing all around me, and I hoped to fall asleep, which I knew was sure to happen to everyone The Empty had swallowed. But not me. She wouldn't let me sleep because I had been an inconvenience to her. She wouldn't visit me either. I lay there until I couldn't lie anymore, I sat there for hours and hours, and finally, I stood up. There was no way to give up this easy, The Empty couldn't be invincible, right?” They all nod, fascinated by his story. Jack even has his eyes closed. Another big gulp of beer, then Cas goes on. “So I wandered around, screaming and trying to punch the Nothingness. I called her a lot of stuff just to get her attention, but it was useless. In the end, I stumbled and fell on my knees and was none-the-wiser. But that was the moment I realized it. There was nothing to be done for me alone. But there was someone who had already conquered The Empty, who had woken me up last time, who would maybe be able to do something about my situation. And even though I didn't want to involve him, I saw no other choice. So I prayed. And I was answered.”

“But I prayed too, why did I never get an answer?” Dean sputters out. Instantly, he feels the heat of shame crawling up his neck, but he still locks eyes with Jack, who has finally opened them.

“I heard you, Dean. And I am very sorry. I knew this would disappoint you, but there was no way for me to interfere down there anymore. I couldn't answer, because I couldn't bear to tell you. I am sorry.” Dean swallows hard, then Jack continues, “Then I heard Castiel. And I realized that I wasn't about to interfere down there – but The Empty was not down there, and there were several changes to be made, changes that were overdue.

I gathered up all the strength I could master. I summoned those around me who were willing to help. Gabriel was the first to respond. It might not surprise you that he had taken advantage of everyone assuming him dead, submerging into the benefits of a random gambler's life outside the radar. Yet when I called out to ask the help of every angel available, he immediately came to my side to be of assistance.

Michael was second to answer my call. He asked a lot of questions, wondering if he could trust me. He was hardest to convince – but wanted The Empty gone as much as I did. So he stayed and helped.

Most of the other living angels came to stand with us, but we still weren't enough. So I started to wake up the deceased. This was rather dangerous, as I didn't want The Empty to know something was up too soon. But Cas here did a great job – when I had awoken an angel, he'd find him and explain the matter, trying to be as quiet as possible.  Once we had gathered quite a number of angels, they took their positions, waiting for my command. First step was to lure The Empty out of her hiding place. Hannah, Anna, Gadreel and Joshua did a great job with that! They annoyed her one after the other, to the point she wanted to throw them all out. Next step was to surround and distract her. So everyone did their best to get her attention, circling her in further. Then the tricky part started. While the inside angels surrounded her, kept her encircled and disturbed, enraging her further to keep her at that spot, we on the outside started to open up a crack, getting others out of there. Gabriel took an essential part here, building up an illusion to cover our crack. As soon as we had Jane and Raphael, I knew it was time to finish it, because the inside angels were taking hit after hit.

With the help of Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and Jane, I managed to take hold of The Empty. Like Chuck did with Amara, we cast her out, chaining her up in the same lonely dimension Amara had once been held in. Michael sacrificed his powers to bear the new Mark that still was needed to have her caged.”

Jack pauses for a moment, takes a sip from his beer and watches the others. Mary and John are holding hands on the table, switching short glances now and then. Bobby looks like he's fallen asleep already, beer still clutched in his hand. Castiel seems to be entranced by Jack's story, elbows on the table, chin resting on his folded hands. A small smile playes on his lips and Dean notices how beautiful Cas' face looks when being relaxed. He doesn't know if he's even allowed to think this way, but he can't help it. He tries to focus on the story again.

“So, you cast her out. I guess the angels on the inside got out – seeing as Cas is here. But what about the other creatures this thing had held for an eternity?”

“Yes, that.” Jack answered, nodding. “I assumed it would be no good to send them all with The Empty. Instead, Jane and me enlarged the Purgatory, sent every monstrous creature down there and asked Rowena to magnify the intensity of their 'door'. In return she'd get the demon souls sent to Hell, and she willingly agreed to that.”

“Great.” Dean states, “more demons for her, no big deal.”

“Dean,” Cas whispers, obviously annoyed by this interruption.

“I don't like the idea of giving her more power, alright? It's no good. Rowena will use this somehow to do something bad, you know her, Cas!”

“Yes, Dean, I do know her. That's why Jack is keeping an eye on things. I thought you'd be happy to know that we all are safe now. I thought you'd be happy to see … me.”

All eyes are on Dean now, which makes him shift in his seat, feeling pretty uncomfortable.

“Man, you know I'm happy about … this all. I'm just wondering what this means for those left on Earth.”

“You mean Sam.”

Dean nods, not sure if he's able to answer right now.

Jack jumps in. “Don't worry, Dean. He's safe. I am sure of it – I can see it. Please believe me that no harm will come upon him as long as I'm here.”

This really does reassure him and he takes a big swig of his beer. He nods, satisfied for now. Then another thought comes to him.

“What about the angels you saved from The Empty? What exactly happened to them?”

“Oh, that's easy. Every deceased angel got a second chance. I made sure their loyalties were with me, then I sent them to work. There's a lot to do up here, and most angels are glad to be able to help. Michael is an exception though. As I said, he's had to sacrifice his powers to bear the new Mark, so he's powerless now. He's in hiding ...” Jake grins, “but I think … he'll bee alright.

With The Empty being gone, there were new rules to administer. Every monstrous creature – minus the demons - that dies from now on will find himself in purgatory. Demons that die will find themselves in Hell, but powerless. Rowena told me she's got some 'lovely tasks' for them. And every angel that meets his end will come back up here, being powerless but having a place to call home.”

Home. Dean looks around, taking in this wonderful place that Cas can now call his home. He loves this idea, and he feels quiet content with knowing all this.

After this, they switch the topic to easier stuff. Their conversation is light now, mostly about stuff to do in Mary's and John's house, like fixing a little hole in their roof, or repainting their furniture. John even asks if Dean would help him restore a '64 Ford Falcon and Dean eagerly agrees to be there tomorrow. But after a while of talking about the ups and downs of this special car, Mary stifles a wide yawn and John laughs. “It's time I guess! Thank you for this wonderful dinner and a great evening guys. Guess we'll see each other next week?”

“Same time, same place,” Cas answers grinning. “See you tomorrow, Dean,” John says and pulls him into a tight hug. Mary ruffles through his hair before hugging him, then she too says good-bye. Jack wakes up Bobby, half-pulling him out of his chair and tells him that it's time to get home. Bobby grunts, gives Dean a nod, and walks out the front door without another word, probably too tired to speak. Last to say goodnight is Jack, and he pulls both Dean and Cas into a big hug. They clap his back, and Dean thinks he can hear Cas whisper 'I'm proud of you' into Jack's ear. They all say good-night, then Jack is gone too. Closing the door behind Jack, Cas turns around to Dean, watches him closely, a slight pink shade on his cheeks.

“There's a guest room down the hall if you want to...” he leaves his sentence unfinished, but Dean understands.

He looks Cas in the eyes, feeling his heart suddenly hammering against his chest. There were words he wanted to say, but he doesn't remember. He's surprised – all those years down there, he had to hold everything back, and he has no fucking idea how he did that. Cas' eyes are still watching him, asking silent questions. Throwing cautions in the wind, Dean finally closes the distance and pulls Cas into a gentle kiss, hands on his cheeks. After a moment of surprise, Cas kisses him back, his lips soft and warm, and lays his hands around Deans waist. Their kiss seems to take an eternity, Dean has no feeling of time anymore, he just feels Cas' lips on his, and he knows that this is his happy place. His peace. His... he allows himself to think the word – his home.

Notes:

This fic is a gift for @expectingtofly on tumblr as part of the starrynightdeancas gift exchange. It's my first-ever written fanfic and I'd love to know what you think about it! I had a lot of fun writing this, creating my own kind of fix-it fiction. Also, I tried to stay canonical – with one exception, because I will never accept that the trickster was truly finished off!

Please note that I’m not a native speaker and there might be some spelling and grammar mistakes. I’m sorry! But I hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless.

Have fun reading and leave a comment if you like <3

Not yet posted on AO3, still waiting for my invitation. I’ll have you updated as soon as I can post it there!

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - Chapter 14

It’s Monday and it’s new chapter time.

First of all... the gif above is one of the most hilarious scenes in Top Gun, so when i started writing this chapter I knew I had to re-enact it. The manoeuvre is called buzz the tower. 

This chapter is a moment of respite from what’s going to happen next. it’s a bit angsty at the beginning, but then it gets lighter.

CW: hurt/comfort,  PTSD, panic attacks, and also a bit NSFW,

Enjoy

----------

She was in a room, of that she was sure. The heat was becoming unbearable by the second and the smoke enveloped her in a tight grip. Her eyes burned and she felt lost. Everywhere she looked there was smoke. Slowly she walked to a door and once she opened she saw fire. She walked in. She had to find him. She moved a step and her skin felt on fire. She walked and walked.

“Help,” she heard a male voice. She moved towards it. But when she found the person she noticed it was too late. She could still recognise his features: Sam. He was dead and she was too late. She started running as the tongues of fire chased her and the sense of being lost got worse. She ran and collided with something metallic. It was a plane. Its wings were broken, the canopy smashed. She noticed a figure in it. She walked to the aircraft and her heart stopped when she noticed the silver hair: Row— an explosion filled her ears.

Aelin woke with a scream, she threw the duvet aside and launched herself off the bed, crashing on the floor and then ran for the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach in the toilet. Over and over again. Tears pricked her eyes and she noticed her hands shake visibly. Exhausted, Aelin plopped on the floor and let the tears fall. It was just a bad dream. Just a bad dream. But she could still smell Sam’s charred skin and the odour of kerosene. Her sobs intensified and when she started hyperventilating she realised a panic attack was building up.

“Rowan…” she called but remembered too late that he had gone out with Aedion. She tried to bring her breathing under control but failed and the sense of terror grew stronger. Slowly, trembling she dragged herself back to the bedroom and once she reached the nightstand, with trembling hands, grabbed her phone and called Rowan.

His answer was immediate “hey you, miss me already?”

Aelin could not reply straight away, she tried to calm her breathing “I…” she started sobbing again “I am scared.” Was all she managed before her sobs took over completely.

“Aelin, where are you?” Rowan’s voice was panicked “Are you at home?”

He and Aedion had driven her home before going for their night out.

“Yes…” he voice barely audible.

“I am on my way.” And he closed the conversation.

Aelin dropped the phone and collapsed exhausted on the floor.

Rowan had cut his night short and drove back home like a madman. He should have never left her alone. He knew she was suffering from nightmare and panic attacks. But the idea of going out with Aedion had been very tempting. They had a great night and they had a fascinating chat that helped him a lot. His heart raced and growled at every single set of traffic lights. He had to be back home quickly. Aedion had mentioned to keep an eye on Aelin for PTSD. He hadn’t told the man that Aelin was already showing two symptoms. The nightmares and the fact that at night she struggled to sleep. He was getting really worried and his finger tapped nervously on the steering wheel.

He finally made it home and ran in the house, sprinted to the bedroom and found Aelin on the floor. Her mobile had slipped from her hands. He hoisted her in his arms and took her to the bed noticing her clammy skin. Gently he deposited her on the bed and went to the bathroom to grab a cloth. With it he brushed her face and cleaned it. She had been sick. He stood again and went to grab a fresh pair of pyjama and changed her making sure not to cause any more injury to her arm. Gently he tucked her under the blanket. She was sleeping and he did not want to wake her. He kissed her head and then he went to get himself ready for bed. Once he joined her under the blankets he pulled her to his chest and enveloped her body with his. His strong arms looped around her frame and his leg draped over hers in a protective embrace.

*

It was early morning when he woke, kissed Aelin’s head and brushed her blonde hair away from her face. She had managed to sleep throughout the night and he relaxed. She must have been exhausted after whatever happened. He imagined she had another nightmare and a panic attack. She was his brave and fierce Fireheart and it destroyed him to see her like that.

Rowan felt her move and slowly shift to awareness, her body turned and blue, beautiful eyes met his.

“Morning.” He smiled at her and kissed her briefly.

“You are here.” Her hand brushed his face.

“Of course I am here.”

“You…” but she stopped and shook her head “it’s nothing.” And she turned.

“What is it, Aelin?”

“Nothing.” She repeated and curled in a foetal position turning her back to him “you will leave me eventually. Everyone does.” He heard her cry.

He rolled her over and made sure she faced him “I am not going anywhere.”

“You will leave me, just like Sam did…” she whispered against his chest “and I will be alone again.”

His heart ached painfully. He wanted to make her a promise that he would always come back but his job was just as dangerous as hers and he could not utter that promise and lie to her.

“Do you want me to give up my job?”

She looked up at him “no.” she kissed him “no, I could never ask you that. No matter how much it scares me.” She leaned a bit more into him “Just come back to me.”

“It will be my pleasure.”

They remained in bed holding each other for a while. Aelin had told him about her nightmare and telling him felt good.

Rowan looked at his phone and groaned “damn I need to go to work.”

Her face turned sad and he kissed her pout away, then he had an idea “Come with me.”

“Uh?”

“You are still a consultant. I know that Lorcan has continued our project with Aedion. But you can come and see for yourself what we have done.” Then he gave her a big smile “you can see me fly as well. The guys and I will be probably running some drills as well as we have a performance review coming.”

The smile that she gave him almost made his heart melt. With renewed energy she jumped off the bed, ran to his side and began pulling him out of bed “come on, shower and we are going.”

“Fine, fine,” he complained and dragged himself out of bed, then he grabbed her and carried her to the bathroom sack of potato style. Aelin trashed in his arms, he pinched her buttocks in reply and she squealed. He deposited her in the bathroom and once free he started to undress and Aelin stared at him while leaning against the sink with a wanton smile on her face.

She peeled off her clothes and walked to him. Her hands brushed his chest, following the lines of his tattoo and then her tongue traced the same path. He folded his arms around her and pushed her in the shower and opened the jets. Another step and she was pinned to the wall. Aelin looked up at him “I do love a good wall in the morning.”

In a second his mouth was on hers, a hard demanding kiss. Her mouth opened to him and his tongue brushed against hers “well, let’s try and not disappoint you.” He pulled her legs around him and with one thrust he was in her.

The shower took longer than expected but it had put Aelin in a better mood and that’s all he cared about. He was getting ready in his uniform and smiled when Aelin hugged him from behind “What?” He asked softly while tying his tie.

“Thank you for being at my side last night.”

Rowan stiffened “I should have been with you all night, but I didn’t.”

Aelin placed a kiss on his back “but you came back straight away and it helped. In your arms I slept peacefully. You made me feel safe.”

“Well,” he turned and faced her “I need to make sure we do that every night.”

Aelin nodded and went to her side of the closet to grab her clothes “did you have a nice time with Aedion?”

“I did. And he helped. He went through this a few times and well, it felt good to talk with someone who could fully understand.” Then he stopped and looked at her “I don’t mean that you can’t. You have been supportive and amazing.”

Aelin stepped up to him “I know, but Aedion has been in the military. I haven’t. He can help you talk about things I might not understand. That’s why I asked him to take you out.”

“Thank you.” He said leaning over for a kiss “Are you ready?”

Aelin twirled in front of him, she just had jeans and a hoodie and he still thought she was the most stunning creature he had ever seen “I am, captain. All ready to see my top gun in action.”

My. Rowan felt a tug of deep joy at hearing her using that possessive for him. Since she forced the topic after the opera he realised that he had been fooling himself when he tried to convince himself he had no deep feelings for her. He wanted her. To be with her. To commit to her. And he was going to show her just how much.

He took her hand and together they walked out of the house.

*

They arrived at the base not long after “do you have your badge?” He told her as they reached the first check point.

Aelin fished it out of her bag and showed it to him.

“Captain,” the man in the booth said acknowledging Rowan “captain.” He added towards Aelin.

They drove through the second check point without being stopped and then Rowan parked in the staff car park. Aelin put her lanyard with her badge around her neck and followed Rowan inside, taking his hand.

They walked into his office and Aelin took in the room. She had been inside the first time she had visited him but not bothered to notice anything around. The place looked immaculate and super organised. A big filing cabinet at his back and a bookshelf full with books. Aelin went to have a look and discovered they were all books about flying. Then at the top of the shelf she noticed metal planes all lined up.

“This one,” he said, pointing to a plane with propellers “it’s called a spitfire. It’s quite an epic one.”

“Did you fly it?”

Rowan laughed “No, it’s an old plane. I wasn’t even born when it was used but it’s just gorgeous.”

“It looks cool,” said Aelin looking at the other models.

“These are some of the other planes I have flown.” He pointed to the remainder ones. 

“And this?” She took in her hand the model of an aircraft carrier.

“That is the first aircraft carrier I have served on. I met some great people there.” And lost a lot as well, but he did not say that out loud. “It was my first mission and like a proper newbie I was all excited and eager to prove myself.”

Aelin smiled and then her eyes noticed a picture on the wall behind his desk “is that you?”

Rowan nodded and walked closer to her “the day I graduated from the academy. I was nineteen.”

She took his hand feeling the anguish in his voice “you look quite dashing.”

“I felt smug as fuck and invincible. I had finished the academy at the top. I came out number one.”

“Such a nerd.” She gave him a smile.

He turned her and grabbed her shoulders “don’t tell me that you were not a competitive brat at the academy.”

“I was the only woman at the time. I had to fight twice as much. I showed them all and I finished at the top as well and I made captain well before some of the morons who thought that they were better than me because they allegedly, had the correct reproductive apparatus.”

Rowan snorted and Aelin glared at him “don’t tell me you are one of those because I am going to dump your arse so hard you have no idea.”

He kissed her “No. I have been fighting with Lorcan for a while to get women to serve in the airforce if they want to. The navy has them, the army does as well. We are the only corp that doesn’t and I have been losing this battle for a while. Lorcan is one of those and since he doesn’t believe in the fact that women should be allowed in the airforce he never brings the fight to the higher levels.”

She kissed him and she felt like her heart could explode with love for him.

“He really is an arsehole.”

“I am not his biggest fan either recently.”

“Can’t you take the fight higher up? Go over his head?”

Rowan sighed “we are run by a bunch of old fashioned mummies who are even more retrograde than Lorcan.”

Aelin was about to reply when someone knocked at the door. At Rowan’s invitation she saw the man called Gavriel enter the room “We are all ready to go. We got clearance from the tower and the guys are getting changed now.” Then he noticed Aelin and gave her a big smile “hello, captain.”

“Hello, Commander,” she greeted him remembering his rank. She had liked the man from the start.

Rowan kissed her “I’ll be back in ten minutes. I need to get changed. I’ll come and get you.”

Aelin nodded and he left with Gavriel.

“So, you finally decided to do the right thing,” said the other man to Rowan.

“Uh?”

“Stop grieving and being scared and finally try to be happy.”

Rowan gave him a tight smile “she is worth it.”

*

Aelin waited in his office and when she got bored she grabbed one of his books about flight and started reading. She had been doing some research on her own to understand his job a bit more. She grabbed one that seemed to start from the basics and began reading how a plane did manage to stay in the air. She was so engrossed in the book that she missed him coming back. When she lifted her eyes she saw him standing in front of her in his flight suit. Gods, he was… she had so many naughty thoughts crossing her mind.

“What are you reading?” He asked her, noticing the book abandoned on the desk.

“Oh…” she cleared her voice “just discovering how a plane can stay up.”

Rowan laughed “four forces: thrust, lift, drag and push or gravity” he told her with a smug smile and then he offered her his hand “come on.”

She followed him and they walked to the hangar and every so often she checked him out. In the jump suit he was even hotter than usual.

They entered the hangar and Aelin noticed a lot of people swarming around the five jets “the engineers are getting the planes ready,” he explained her as they got closer to his.

They stopped and Rowan got to open the canopy and finished to dress by adding what he had told her was a G suit used to help with the pressure with manoeuvres where they had to pull a lots of Gs. She stared at him doing all the checks to his suit and then gave a man at her side the thumb up.

“This is Greg,” said Rowan nodding at the man at their side “he is my engineer. Once we are ready to go he will take you to the observation tower.”

Aelin smiled. She was really going to see him fly.

“Give me a have fun kiss,” he said leaning into her.

Aelin brushed his hair and kissed him deeply, then she broke the kiss and her forehead was against his “Be safe.”

He kissed her nose “I love you,” he said very softly.

He left her and climbed into his jet. She studied him finishing to don his helmet, do some checks and then he waved at her. He gave Greg a thumbs up and Aelin saw some other people take the jet away. No taxi, she corrected herself using the right term.

“Miss, you can come with me. They are taxing out and it’s going to get loud in here.”

Aelin nodded and followed the man, casting a glance ever so often to where Rowan had disappeared.

They climbed up the tower and Aelin gasped at the view. She could see the jets lined up on the runaway.

“They are waiting for final clearance from the tower. They will go that way for a bit, but eventually will come back here.” He passed her a pair of binoculars “these are handy.”

Aelin thanked him.

“Don’t leave until someone comes back to collect you. Probably captain Whitethorn will come himself. You are safe up here.” He explained her and Aelin nodded.

The man disappeared and she leaned against the wall. She stared at the jets and then realised she had no idea how to tell them apart.

One at a time all the jets took off, they disappeared at the horizon and eventually came back a flew by the tower. One of them rolled its wings up and down and she had a feeling that was Rowan.

She giggled and grabbed the binoculars.

A moment later she felt a presence at her side. Lorcan had joined her with a thermos of coffee in his hands “Enjoying the view?” He asked in a bored tone.“The fun should start soon. Whitethorn is probably explaining the parameters of the exercise and creating the two teams, that’s why they are still in formation. As soon as the game starts you will see them veer up and break into two groups.”

“How can you tell them apart?”

“Habit.”

Aelin rolled her eyes.

“Whitethorn is that one,” he pointed at the jet at the head of the formation.

“That’s it.” Said Lorcan and Aelin saw the team break apart like he had told her.

Lorcan brought out a radio and he changed to a channel that allowed him to listen to radio chatter of his pilots.

“Do you do this often? Coming up here and watch them, I mean.”

“Every time they are out. I am not as much as a monster as the captain depicts me.” He sighed and looked at his pilots “I care about them. They are my team.” then he chuckled and pointed at the jets in the air “Fenrys is already trying to get a lock on Whitethorn. Can you see how he is flying?”

Aelin followed the scene with interest and the radio went silent as the man probably concentrated on their job.

“Moonbeam is sneaky but there is a reason why Whitethorn is the best.”

“I got your arse, Iceman.” She heard Fenrys over the radio. Then something amazing happened. She saw the jet in front of the young lieutenant pull up in a vertical and breaking and letting the other jet pass him the he pulled down and Rowan ended up behind him and over the radio she heard a noise.

“Another time, wolf.” She heard Rowan laugh and the sound warmed her heart “you can sit this one out, pup.” 

“That was awesome.” Said Aelin in awe.

“Whitethorn is not an easy one to get. I think in many years of drills only Gavriel managed the feat a few times. And we all believe it was because well, he was not himself.”

Aelin had an inkling she knew when that was. 

“I think he needs this today. Losing that student has sent him back to a dark place.”

“How so?” Asked Aelin curious.

“Not my story to tell.”

They went back watching the exercise “that is a high G barrel roll, isn’t it?” She remembered it from thew video.

“Well done, captain.”

“Rowan has told me about some manoeuvres.”

“You see why he did that?” Lorcan pointed at the jets.

Aelin nodded, “the plane behind him is too close for comfort so that is an option to shake him off.”

Lorcan nodded “That is Gavriel. He probably painted him once already and had Rowan’s tail and a firing solution as well so Rowan pulled that manoeuvre to get rid of him and succeeded.”

“That’s Connall being his wingman. And Vaughan is with Gavriel.”

Then she gasped. Rowan had just flew in between Vaughan and Gavriel in a vertical line then she saw him bank and get back in formation.

“That’s Connall gone as well. It’s just Whitethorn against Vaughan and Gavriel.”

Gavriel was fast and sneaky. Even someone like her could see that. 

Rowan was on his own but Lorcan did not seem worried. His planes flew mere metres from a second one, their bellies almost touching. He rolled away and then pulled into a dive chasing the plane that was trying to escape. He stood at the other person’s tail playing chase until she heard over the radio curses coming from Vaughan and she knew the man was out as well.

“Now things get interesting.” Commented Lorcan who seemed cheerier all of a sudden.

“Rowan told me you are against the idea of having females in the airforce.”

His face turned hard again “I was just starting to like you, captain.”

“What is your problem with our gender?”

“You cannot do that.” He pointed at the fight scene in front of them.

“That is exactly what I heard all throughout the academy. I was the only woman at the time. I was told I did not have what it took. That as a woman my body could not sustain the heavy training regime, that I had no chance of becoming just as good a firefighter as a man. They thought that me being born with a vagina prevented me from being a firefighter.” She explained, not removing her gaze from the two remaining planes “I proved them all wrong, sir. I finished the academy at the top of my class. I set the record in one of the exercises and no one has broken it just yet. I made captain before many of those pricks and I am still to this day the only woman who did so.”

“This is a dangerous job.”

Aelin scoffed and showed him her bandaged arm “I almost died after running into a building on fire. And I do that on a daily basis. Don’t talk to me about a dangerous job.”

Lorcan breathed out “you made your point.”

“Elide has her own ideas as well on the matter. She might be tiny but she is one scary woman.”

His face all of a sudden lost its hard edges. Oh look, the man had feelings.

“She is quite an amazing woman.” He confessed.

“You’d better remember that.”

“She told me about… her past.”

Aelin knew. Elide had told them.

“It doesn’t bother me. I mean, it bothers me what the fucker did to her but not that she… has no experience.”

“Good, because Elide is very nervous about all that stuff.”

“When she is ready.”

Aelin nodded and went back to the fight. It looked like Rowan was trying to get on Gavriel’s tail. The older man pulled into a vertical but Rowan never left him. Aelin stared at the climb and wondered how many Gs they were pulling. The jet flew with the canopies facing each others. Aelin then noticed Rowan’s plane break formation. Pull, again the strange breaking manoeuvre and make a precise loop that landed right on Gavriel’s tail. 

A moment later she heard the long beeping sound and soon after a barrage of curses from Gavriel.

“That was damn sneaky.”

Aelin laughed and waved at him, not sure he could see her “That was awesome.”

“Oh, they are not done yet. Rowan’s drills are quite intense. We are in for much more fun. Now they all want revenge.” Added Lorcan leaning again against the wall and taking a sip of coffee from his thermos. 

“He really is good.”

Lorcan nodded “he was the best since flight school. And his cool temper helps him to be great in a situation of great stress. That’s why we have been fighting recently. He has been rash and impulsive. That is not him.”

Aelin did not make any comments on that.

“Rowan and I have known each other for a very long time, since we were both still in Doranelle.” He told her “he is very respectful of rank and etiquette but with me and in private he had always spoken his mind and a few times he had pegged me down a few notches. We both have clashing tempers and it tends to end badly at times.” He sighed “I had no intention of suspending him but I had to. And I have a feeling he looked for a fight on purpose to get suspended. To be with you.”

Aelin gasped. She was not expecting such revelation. She had assumed Lorcan had followed the rules.

“I hope you realise he put his career in jeopardy for you. A captain pulling a stunt like that and breaking aerospace lockdown was bad. And leaving his post at the airbase in Doranelle was just as bad.”

“I am grateful that he did, though. I might be selfish but he helped me greatly and he is still doing it.”

“Don’t fuck up his life, captain. One woman did it already and I think it’s enough.”

Lorcan’s words toward Lyria sounded quite harsh.

The exercise eventually came to an end but Lorcan stood there with her.

She heard Rowan ordering the team to go back to base.

“Tower, this is Iceman, requesting permission for a flyby.”

“Request denied, Iceman.”

“Get your arse back to base, Whitethorn,” shouted Lorcan over the comms.

Aelin stared at Rowan’s jet, the only one still in the air and looked at the very strange trajectory.

Then it was a matter of a second and a deafening noise startled her and a second later she heard a curse. Lorcan had spilled his hot coffee on his uniform and was now threatening the worst punishments for Rowan. She wanted to laugh but she restrained herself.

“Let’s go back down, captain. Your boyfriend is in for a treat.”

They got back inside and by the time they were back in the hangar the five jets were parked as well and Rowan was complimenting his team for a nice training session.

“Whitethorn.” Shouted Lorcan marching up to him “The tower clearly denied you the flyby. What is your problem?”

His green eyes landed on her and she saw a flash of amusement in them. 

“I should ask you the same thing, sir. Your uniform needs a change.” With his head he pointed at the stained clothing.

“Your arse in my office. Now.”

Rowan stood to attention and followed Lorcan. He looked at Aelin and winked at her.

“Did you enjoy that, captain?” It was Gavriel’s voice at her side.

“Immensely. It was super fun to watch.” She sighed “I know that when you guys do it for real is not fun, but this drill was awesome.”

She turned to where Rowan and Lorcan had disappeared and got worried “Will he be okay?”

It was Connall who answered “they will yell at each other for a while. Lorcan will call the captain reckless. Explain to him what regulations say with regard to the dear practice of buzzing the tower.”

“What’s buzzing the tower?” She interrupted not recognising the expression.

“The manoeuvre the captain did. It’s a very low pass made to startle or frighten someone. The noise of the jets, as you have experienced is quite high. The captain knew the commodore was with you and very likely had coffee.”

“It was a stupid thing to do.” Added Gavriel not happy “he knows that manoeuvre is dangerous.”

“Let the man have some fun. With all the shit that is going on he has been in a foul mood.”

Gavriel growled at Fenrys “first of all, our job is not to have fun. If that’s what you want, well I have got news for you, boyo. You are in the wrong job.” Gavriel moved closer to the young lieutenant “the captain has lost a student. Have some fucking respect for someone who is grieving.”

Gavriel shouted some orders to the ground crew and moved away “it was a pleasure to see you again, captain.”

She waved back at the man. She liked him. The three young men followed as well.

Not knowing what to do she found her way back to his office, thinking it to be the best and safest option. He came back to her half an hour later and he did not seem too mad.

“Are you two still alive?” She asked him as he walked into the office and lay down on the sofa.“Yeah, he is still alive. I told him to fuck off only once.”

She stood from his chair and walked to him “buzzing the tower was not a great idea.”

He looked at her with curiosity.

She tilted her head “they guys explained the manoeuvre to me.

He stood, closed the distance and his arms went around her waist “I was saying hi to you…” he kissed her “and when I saw Lorcan I knew he’d have coffee with him. He always does.” He kissed her again “and can I add how much of a turn on is when you use technical terms?”

“You are evil.” She poked him in the chest.

“No news there,” another kiss “did you enjoy the show?”

“It was awesome. So, so awesome. And you are quite incredible, captain. And I also recognised one of the manoeuvres from the book you were reading on the beach.” She told him all excited.

“Which one?”

They were so close their bodies were now touching “the high G barrel roll when Gavriel painted you.”

His jump suit was unzipped down till his navel and her hands landed on the t-shirt he wore underneath and he had the suit sleeves rolled to his elbows. He was stunning.

“So… so turned on just now…”

She pressed against him, his hands found their way in her hair and pulled her close for a hot kiss.

“I have so many naughty thoughts as well…”

“And I feel like breaking another rule…” he whispered in her ear and Aelin felt heat pool at her core.

He went to the door and locked it and when he turned he saw that Aelin had removed her hoodie and t-shirt and was sitting on his desk with just trousers and a bra.

Rowan closed the distance in a second, and his mouth claimed hers with an intensity that took Aelin off guard. She had quickly learned that sex with him was never boring and that the man had the power to reduce her to an exhausted mess. Not that she complained…

“I love naughty Rowan,” she teased with a finger on her lips. He moved between her legs, pulling her closer and took the finger in his mouth sucking it and licking it suggestively.

Aelin removed her bra and heard his gasp, then she proceeded to free him from the jump suit and leave him in his black briefs and his grey TAF t-shirt. She looked down and discovered him hard for her. He grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged it off.

“Are we doing something about those trousers, captain?”

Aelin smiled and slowly and with provocation unbuttoned her jeans and started lowering the zip. In a swift motion he pulled them down and away, taking her underwear with them, leaving Aelin stark naked “in a rush, captain?”

He bit her earlobe “the door might be locked, but people might still come and look for me.”

“Well, we better be quiet and pretend there is no one in the office.” And she kissed him eliciting a moan from him “I said quiet, captain.”

Aelin jumped off the table and a moment later was on her knees in front of him. Her hands grabbed his butt and then pulled down his briefs “lean against the table, sir.” He did so and a moment later her mouth was on him and he had to restrain himself to stifle the loud moan that threatened to escape from him. She looked up at him in his green eyes and with her tongue licked the tip.

“Fuck,” swore Rowan never breaking eye contact with her. She looked at him and could see lust in his eyes. Her tongue licked the length of him and then she took him in her mouth fully and Rowan let out another curse “If you…” his hands tightened on the desk when she added a hand “continue like this I might not— ” and his protest was cut off when she gently added teeth as well. She still looked at him in challenge and then sucked hard and that was Rowan’s undoing. He pulled her up and deposited her on the desk on her back, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“You wicked, wicked woman…” he told her silencing her protests with a sizzling kiss while a finger slipped into her and Aelin’s back arched at the feeling he coaxed from her. With her legs, she pushed him closer and felt his hardness nudging at her entrance and pulled a bit more as if to tell him what she wanted. He kissed her and his finger hooked inside her teasing that sensitive spot inside her.

“Whitethorn,”she ordered him.

“Such a demanding woman,” and with those words he pushed into her and Aelin had to cover her mouth with her hands to stop the indecent moan that was about to escape from her.

It hadn’t take them long to reach their peaks and now Rowan was leaning on top of an equally spent Aelin. It had been short and intense.

He kissed the space between breasts “I didn’t even have time to greet your friends here,” he added posing gentle kisses on each breasts.

She pulled him in for a kiss “it’s okay… this woman here feels very pleased and satisfied.”

He smiled at her “we better get dressed again. Just in case.” Very quickly they got their clothes back on then Aelin walked to him “I blame the jump suit.”

He raised an eyebrow “not the amazing content inside?”

She kissed him “the jump suit makes the content tastier.”

“Come on,” he took her hand, unlocked the door and walked out of the office “I promised to show you what we did.”

Aelin squeezed his hand and followed him. He took her around the airbase and they covered all the places that she had mentioned needed changes. The works on hangar bay 2 were almost over and the place was still empty but in far batter shape that last time she had seen it. Aelin walked closer to the walls and touched them “fire retardant paint?”

Rowan nodded “Aedion suggested it. The whole of hangar 2 is painted in it. And once the works here are all done, we will do the same in the main hangar.” She walked around impressed that they had taken on board every single suggestion she had made “I am impressed, captain. The place looks amazing.”

“Given the budget we got, Lorcan had ordered to do the same in the main hangar.”

“So, the man can do his job. Good to know.”

Rowan took her around the rest of the base and Aelin approved of what she had seen.

“What time is your doctor appointment?” Asked Rowan as they got back to his office.

“I will need to go soon.”

“Will you text me?” He asked her brushing a wild lock of hair from her face.

“I will let you know.”

She had a meeting with a doctor about her return to work. She knew it was only for desk duty but the idea of going back at the station was quite exciting.

Rowan pulled her into an embrace “go get them.” In response she kissed him.

“Don’t kill Lorcan, captain.”

He gave her a huge grin and she left.

-------

the gif above gives you an idea of one of the trick our bird boy pulled.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp​

@jlinez​

@swankii-art-teacher​

@courtofjurdan​

@whimsicallyreading​

@tillyrubes10​

[ktheist]

03 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.9k

➙ warnings. explicit content, fingering, mild exhibitionism

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis.  “why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?”

x

saturday evening, taehyung comes up to you with a face of a blank canvas, phone in his hand facing the ceiling and relays the news of his break up.

you’re in the middle of watching a show with his two brothers on your laptop.

“wh-what?” is all you manage to say whilst namjoon and seokjin freeze in their spots.

“i broke up with her,” taehyung’s shoulderline rises as he casually shrugs.

“but why?” deep down, you have an inkling - but your mouth moved on its own before you can even stop it.

“cause she was shit talking you,” and with that, he twirls around, heading back to the hallway where one of the doors connect to his room.

and just like second nature, your body shoots up, trailing after the slumped man like a mother to her pupper.

“you guys watch without me,” you briefly say to the two men on the couch, their faces scrunching with growing concern.

for the first time in a long time, you and taehyung bare your hearts to each other. talked about your fears and hopes and what keeps you going. which is, to an extent, each other and the two brothers. you’re not sure how you fell asleep but you wake up with a leg sprawled all over your stomach and a snoring sound echoing against the wall. the blanket draped over you and taehyung isn’t part of his bedset because one, you and taehyung end up sleeping on top of the sheets and two, you know the only one brother out of the three loves the color blue so much, his bedsheets and blankets are always themed with light cerulean. and this blanket - you’ve definitely seen seokjin use a dozen times.

"hey, morning,” you greet the two brothers whilst they’re unpacking what seems to be takeouts from a store you all collectively agree have no bad item in their menu.

everyone eats just about anything from that restaurant.

“morning, sleepyhead.” namjoon shakes his head, smiling - it’s probably the hair pointing in different directions.

“how’s taehyung?” seokjin asks when you come to sit on the stool next to where he’s standing.

“well, i mean - he’s not in a good place,” you begin, “i know he really liked her. and i know she talks shit about me behind my back and she knows i do too and he’s always caught in between, but he always seemed to brush it off and never take sides you know? so i didn’t think he’d break up with her over it.”

“hey, it’s not your fault,” the hand on your shoulder is warm, seeping into your heart as you examine the sincerity of those brown eyes, down to the reassuring smile of those plump lips.

“thanks for saying that, jinnie,” you want to ask for a kiss (and maybe some dick) but with namjoon - though he’s cluelessly continuing with his task of preparing the takeouts - around, you settle for patting his hand that’s on your shoulder.

after washing your face and returning to the kitchen, you find the previously sleeping-like-a-long giant perched on one of the stools, rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes.

“look who’s up!” a smack lands on taehyung’s back.

the aforementioned man doesn’t even flinch as he takes another second to rub all the sleepiness away before craning his neck to look at your smiling face - it may be a dumb smile but someone’s got to be lifting the atmosphere.

“i thought you left,” he grumbles, before his arm snakes around your waist and brings you in for a side hug.

the recoil is almost automated as your smile scrunches into a cringe, arms flailing to push him away and at least get a few inches gap in between,“ew, what the hell.”

“i’m sad! gimme a hug,” he laments whilst namjoon laughs, commenting something about how “adorable” the two of you are and how it “...reminds me of the good old days, you know?”

he means when you and taehyung aren’t as resistant to skinships.

but all your attention goes to the eldest brother whose glance lingers a second too long before he tears his gaze off from you and taehyung.

x

it turns out that little bitch tried making taehyung choose between you and her after he’d texted her (in an attempt to placate her jealousy-prone heart) about how you’d opted to room with seokjin in yesterday.

give them and inch and they’ll take a mile.

“i should’ve known,” taehyung shakes his head, bags heavy under his eyes as he lies in his bed, cocooned by the light cerulean blanket, “you don’t like her but you like everyone-”

“don’t you go justin bieber on me,” you smack him in the stomach, to which he curls up into a caterpillar, moaning in pain and something about suing for personal injuries.

but the fact that he can complaint at all means that he’s recovered half of himself.

“i’m getting some food from the kitchen, you want anything?” you roll your eyes.

“how bout a new girlfriend?” he manages to say, despite the so called blow to the stomach.

“potato chips it is,” you nod before strutting out of the door.

the hallway is dimly lit, save for the lone light in the ceiling and the slightest bit of gap that allows luminescence to pour out of seokjin’s room. so you knock on the door, leaning against the frame, “hey.”

kim seokjin sits on the chair you previously occupied the night before, round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as his eyes widen for the briefest second before offering you one of his warm smiles, “hey, how’s taehyung?”

“he’s eating,” you shrug, trying to appear casual even though something in the way his shirt swallows his already broad built and making him appear like you can fight him and win - gets your heart doing flips.

“that’s gre-” he can’t even properly get his response out because you’re already crossing the short distance between you and him, hands cupping his cheeks before smashing your lips against his. as if you haven’t had water for days. as if you’ve been breathing with your head barely above water.

his hands find their way on your hips, kissing you back more delicately than you can ever control yourself. tingles dot your skin from where his hand caresses your elbow and travels up your arm, lingering there, as though forgetting the reason his warning touch.

“i needed that,” you break away only to steal another kiss before confessing.

seokjin chuckles, his hand slipping over to your chest before attempting to pinch your nipple. to which he fails because your padded bra successfully blocks him off.

“oh, you’re wearing a bra?” the genuine surprise gleaming in his eyes should offend you.

“unless you want your brother accidentally touching my nips while we were wrestling each other to decide who gets to use your comfy as hell blanket,” you roll your eyes.

taehyung won, obviously. which explained why he was lying in bed like a human burrito just now.

“i’d have to give taehyung a personal beating if that happened,” the dorky grin and amused glint in his whenever he cracks a not-so-funny-but-adorable joke, isn’t present.

your heart’s always done this thing where it skips with every smile that curls on his lips, yet the lack of it and the underlying seriousness of his tone is making your heart lurch in your throat, warmth spreading all over your body.

“anyways, i need to get taehyung some chips, thanks for the kiss.” you wave but something wraps around your wrist like an iron hold seconds before you find yourself perched in seokjin’s lap and the man dangerously close to you - despite having shared a passionate kiss just a moment ago.

“taehyung this, taehyung that,” his hand slips under your shirt, coarse hand trailing up your back until you feel him unhooking your bra in one go.

like he’s had enough practice in the art of seduction.

“well, he’s the one out of the four of us with a broken heart,” you pray to the constellations and deities that your voice is levelled though it soon proves to be pointless if his other hand’s snaking up your front and hovers over your chest where he could feel the organ beneath beating wildly.

“you’re breaking mine though... with spending that much time with my brother,” he traps your nipple in between his thumb and index finger, caressing, teasing with a smile that ironically has probably broken a few hearts of his own.

“i can fix that,” you beam, finger tracing down his front and down to the waistline of his pants, to which you can’t reach unless you scoot away to allow your hand to -

“not right now,” the sound of wind chimes drum in your ears as he chuckles.

it makes the umpteenth rejection a little less prickly, as you pout, “when?”

“soon,” and with that, he takes your wrist in his hand, making you push your own shirt up until your nipples are bare in the open, “hold this up for me, please.”

it’s the please that gets you.

ever the gentleman even as he’s about to tease you with his teeth against your nipples and his free hand fondling your other breast.

“why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?” you grunt, displeased, but arch your back anyway to make it easier for him to suckle and bite on your erected nipples.

you’ve always thought his hair looked soft but it’s softer as you bury your free hand in it. at first, it’s just a gentle caress - just like patting a golden retriever. but then as his tongue lapse over your protruded nub and the pressure in his free hand in your other breast grows more intense, you’re surprised he’s not moaning out in pain from the way your hand’s instinctively grasping at his roots.

“ah!” a yelp escapes you when he leaves your left nipple for the other one, biting down harder than you’re used to but not enough to draw blood.

you’re lost in the pain and pleasure of his tongue and apt fingers, where his mouth isn’t sucking on your nipple, his fingers are pinching and groping it. somewhere in the back of your mind, you distinctively remember a midly pressing matter-

“what the fuck?”

something about a heartbroken best friend and an unclosed door.

"t-taehyung!” you gasp, body almost jolting upward like a criminal caught red handed but seokjin’s arms around your body roots you down in his lap as he slowly pulls down your shirt before turning his attention to his youngest brother.

“taehyung, calm down,” he instructs with ease but his wide-eyed gaze is filled with concern.

“this isn’t-” you begin, slipping away from seokjin’s loosened grasp to pad over to your best friend who looks like he’s seen a ghost or his brother and best friend almost-fucking. either one works, “this isn’t what you think.”

“no-” the younger cups his mouth as he doubles over, his other hand held up in the air as if to tell you to “stay the fuck back-”

“oh, come on,” the slightest brush of your nipples against the material of your carelessly-pulled-down bra makes does not go pass you, yet you put your hand on your hip, rolling your eyes, “don’t be so dramatic.”

and that’s when taehyung hurls his guts out in front of seokjin’s door.

x

note. ooof 

i wasn’t sure if this drabble was gonna gain any eager readers. when i say eager, i mean those who look forward to an update, but some of you showed interest and it warms my heart! so here’s to another update! hope yall enjoyed!

taglist. @aretha170​ @scalubera​ @ambersaesthetics​ !

[bitch-for-a-rainbow]

So there's a blanddcheadcanons post that says that "Kara is the mortal avatar of Rao" and I really don't like it, especially in the context of SG 3x04 (The Faithful). At best, as was pointed out to me by a friend with whom I discussed this post, the House of El is likely blessed and somewhat sponsored by Rao, which probably doesn't do much but produce Krypton's greatest heroes, given what the word "El" **means** in Kryptonian. I'm interested in your thoughts on this (pls post your answer).

    I reject the headcannon solely because if it were true it would mean Coville was right and I fucking hate that bitch.

     In all seriousness, though, this is an idea I've seen a lot and I'm not a huge fan of. I don't know much about Raoism beyond what appears in the show and that which can be inferred off of the show. One thing I would point out though is that El in Kryptonian (while obviously being intended to mean God by the original comic writers) can mean Sun or Stars, and since the Kryptonians in the show are, as far as I can tell, monotheistic, and worshipped only one particular star, the El family is not necessarily named God. It would, however, signify their enormous prestige on Krypton and contribute to the famous El pride (or rather, arrogance). I’m not sure it would necessarily have to mean anything more than that-- that the Els are a respected house who have produced a variety of successful politicians, civil servants, and scientists. And (this time reaching a little bit) that they are perhaps so old and respected that their house name was once a title. 

      There is a certain allure to the theory, for sure. Kara is a paragon character. She always, always does what she thinks is right, regardless of the cost, personal or global, and regardless of what other people might think of it. She has a very direct moral compass, and there are only a handful of times when she doesn’t follow it, all of which involve saving Lena. Ship who you want, but it is notable that Kara routinely prioritzes Lena’s life over that of others given the rarity of that happening otherwise. She never even considered breaking Rick Thompson’s father out of prison when he kidnapped Alex, and all he’d committed was bank robbery. Kara has lines she does not cross (though murder is clearly not one of them). She is a character that has seen some of the worst that sentient life is capable of, has seen more death and suffering than most people could imagine, and she came out of it with an all-encompassing desire to protect others. She lives to give people hope. Plus, the humor of having Kara-- the one person most offended by the idea of being an Avatar of Rao-- turn out to be an Avatar of Rao is great.

       But, I would also say that having Kara want to do good because she is the avatar of a benevolent god is reductive and not particularly true to her character. It is true that helping and protecting people is a large part of the core of who Kara is. But there is a difference between altruism and the self-destructive, bordering of suicidal desperation to save absolutely everyone that Kara practices. And to anyone who doubts the suicidal bit, I direct you to the season 1 finale where Kara literally goes on a goodbye tour because she thinks if she goes out to fight Non she’ll die. She still goes because she has hope, but that hope is that she can at least save Earth with her life. She doesn’t fight because she is certain in the ultimate victory of good and justice. She does it because she more afraid to lose another family than she is to die. Kara doesn’t become Supergirl and risk her own life because she believes in good, she does it because she can’t stand to listen to people suffer-- because she has suffered. To use Alex’s words in 1x13 “You fight everyday to keep people from struggling like you have.” Notably also in 1x13, Kara wakes up from the Black Mercy and her first words are “Who did this to me?” and then she goes after Non in what could arguably be described as a homicidal rage-- a rage that is fueled entirely for personal reasons, not the greater good of Earth (though that comes as an added benefit), which is.... not very befitting the avatar of a benevolent god. 

     A major part of season 1 is Kara dealing with grief and rage. She nearly breaks a guy's arm in episode 6 because he screamed at her for damaging his car, to hell with the children he'd almost hit with it. In season 3's Midvale flashbacks we see her first put both hands through a lunch table, then attack Jake when she suspects him for Kenny's death. She gets better at controlling it as the seasons progress, but during Crisis she very nearly melts Lex. Also not particularly godly of her. 

     Then there is the fact that so much of who Kara is is shaped by fear: fear of the government, fear of humanity, fear of abandonment, and fear of herself. In her civilian life, Kara is, for the most part, unnoticeable. She's polite, soft-spoken, doesn't wear a lot of bold colors or styles, and is often a pushover. As shown by her encounter with Red Kryptonite, Kara would not dress or speak the same way to people without the pressure of hiding her identity (though much of her dialogue is purely the loss of her "don't be an asshole" filter, some of it is stuff she had every right to say before and just didn't). I have always found that episode to be very interesting purely for the fact that Kara doesn't actually seem to be seeking harm on others so much as seeking their attention. Her argument with Alex is almost entirely about how much she hates having to hide and pretend to be less than she is. Kara drops Cat off the balcony and then catches her. She attacks the police when they point weapons at her but doesn't kill or even hurt them that badly, instead of destroying the car they're using as shelter. Red-K removed her inhibitions, made her angrier, yes, but if her goal was to actually hurt people, she could have done so-- would have done so, and with great ease. She goes to a public bar and uses super strength to smash bottles by flicking peanuts. Why do that at a crowded bar? Why not just flick potato chips at the windows in her own apartment?

      This is Kara at her absolute worst-- but does she seek out the DEO agents who shot her out of the sky? Does she go after Maxwell Lord or Non? No. She tries to make people pay attention to her. Her most shameful and hideous desire is for people to give her respect. (Admittedly, respect gained through fear, but still.). Kara's a nice person-- much, much nicer than average-- but a lot of that "nice" is just her avoiding conflict to avoid attention.

      Kara is a good person. Kara inspires people. But that is because Kara gets up every day and chooses to be good and to inspire. It's one of the reasons I enjoy Non as a villain so much-- he and Astra are Kara's narrative foils. They also remember Krypton and grieve its loss. They also were trapped in the Phantom Zone. But where Kara had the Danvers to convince her that some good people existed and would risk themselves just to help others, Non and Astra had Alura sentencing them to eternal suffering rather than helping them save their planet (through the means they thought necessary) and then landed on Earth and found it headed on the same path as the planet they'd just lost. Kara had people to help her grieve. Non and Astra were surrounded by misery. They lost hope. Kara discovered it.

     Kara is the Paragon of Hope because she has been hopeless. Because she has suffered so much, seen so much, and because she chooses to believe in a better future. She didn't have hope her first time in the Phantom Zone. She didn't even have hope for a while on earth. From what we can gather, Kara's choice to start actually believing in the future was a gradual shift that occurred sometime after Kenny's death and has lasted her ever since. For Kara, hope is learned. She chose to hope and she won't let it go, and to assign that incredible victory off to her being a God is an insult to her growth and to her character. 

   Now I personally thought “The Faithful” handled this concept very well. 3x04 is one of my favorite episodes of television in general, let alone in Supergirl. Season 3 is my second favorite season, and that says a lot for its good episodes when the bad of season 3 is so, so very bad (To say nothing of the episode to episode production value, we have the waste of Argo, Mon El’s return as obviously he’s grown he has a beard Mon El, and whatever the hell was going on with Kryptonian genetic engineering eclipse causing witches). To this day I don’t know why Kara had magic dreams. The show did nothing to explain it and I can’t imagine up a reason. 

     But “The Faithful” works because it highlights the whole paragon part of who Kara is. When you realize that every person in the room of Coville’s cult is a person she has personally saved-- that hits hard. Especially since only a fraction of the people she’s saved would ever set foot inside that building with the totally not-creepy, entirely wholesome way they deliver the invitations. (“Your daughter is special. She has been chosen. As have you.”) It works because it focuses on how the average human must view Kara, the ones who don’t see her argue with her sister over potstickers and crush her phone when she gets mad. It works because of how desperately hard Kara tries to be a human. It works because the writers know that we, the audience, do not see Kara as anything but a regular person with irregular abilities: a kind and remarkably devoted person, but not a god. 

[regrettablewritings]

Preference: When They Get Jealous

Characters: Nevada Ramirez, Okoye, George “Digger” Harkness, Lucifer Morningstar, Clyde Logan

Nevada Ramirez

Nevada Ramirez does not get jealous. Don’t get anything in that pretty little head of yours twisted: Nevada “El Trujillo” Ramirez does not stoop so low as to feel jealous. Jealousy is what a pussy incapable of keeping his woman feels. And Nevada don’t never gotta worry about that type of bullshit.

Nevada Ramirez does not get jealous. Not even when he sees some jackass getting a little too handsy with you. He gets angry, sure. But not out of jealousy: It’s because that dumbass just doesn’t know his place. He knows you’re too sweet for your own good, that you’ve never been particularly good with confrontation or speaking up when it came to strangers; luckily for you, your boyfriend is more than happy to lend you a hand with that problem.

He sees you smile all wobbly at the asshole, brows ever so slightly furrowed over eyes that whimper in panic. Maybe even reads your lips a bit. He can’t hear you over the thudding bass of the club, but he knows you well enough to know that you’re stuttering, your voice quivering as you try ever so gently to politely shut him down. It almost makes Nevada want to smirk: You’re trying to help your own pest, give him a head start and give him a chance to escape. But it’s too late for that, and you know it the moment you see two of ‘Vada’s boys stalk up to you and your new friend, with one of them grunting that it’s “time to go.”

You’re pretty sure your “new friend” knows it’s too late as well, given how he tenses, but the hand he has on your lower, lower back stays. Maybe even applies further pressure. He tries (stupidly) to hold his ground. But the ground can’t hold him; not as Nevada’s boys pick him up effortlessly and drag him off to a more dimly-lit section of the club. The only thing shining brightly from that corner being the exit sign.

Fifteen minutes later, your boyfriend joins you. He would pretend that he doesn’t know why your lips are pressed in disapproval, and that he doesn’t see how your brows are still furrowed but this time, in a way to suggest disapproval. And you would pretend that you don’t smell the smell of cigarettes smoked in the alley, or sweat worked up from an activity he got too into. More importantly, you pretend that you don’t see his bruised and bloodied knuckles as he rests and arm about you, gently ushering you closer to him as he murmurs about how lonely you looked without your Papi around.

Instead, you give in to the kiss he gives you. His idea of an apology without outright owning up to it.

Nevada Ramirez does not get jealous. He gets even.

Okoye

On the outside, she is calm and collected. The very image of the perfect warrior. But on the inside? Okoye is blaze with passion. Of course, her fierceness shined through when it came to protection, particularly that of her country, her king, her queen, her princess, and, of course, you. But it was ultimately her taciturn countenance that people took note of, which makes her all the more deadly to the unassuming.

Case in point, if she sees anyone putting the moves on you — man or woman — they will find themselves in one of two situations: They will either have the tip of an often-used vibranium spear pointed at them, or they will be requested to help Okoye spar. And, more often than not, the latter is what she chooses to apply.

Mind you, the challenged needn’t be a member of the Dora -- they needn’t even be a seasoned combatant or even have so much as an orange belt in Tae Kwon Do. Which frankly isn’t very fair, considering they’d be receiving a challenge from the head of Wakandan security, but oh, Okoye will insist: “There are few things more patriotic than assisting your protectors where they need the assistance,” she says. The smile she speaks with is very slight, but there’s no doubt from anyone who knows here that there’s a sliver of malice in them.

There’s really no need to go into how the match goes, especially since it’s obvious who the victor is every single time. Generally speaking, there are only four things that bare mentioning:

For one, no matter how much of a sweat or how bruised and banged up her opponent gets, Okoye always goes easy on them. Always. For two, every blue moon, Okoye might let them land a hit on her. However, this is out of pity as well as being for show. Because in the event they so much as scratch her, there’s the third thing: At the end of every sparring match, you go up to your beloved, singing her praises or to offer her a cloth to dab what little sweat she might have shed, or to tend to whatever sores she might have received. But whatever the case, you always go to her.

Fourthly, none of Okoye’s opponents ever try getting cozy with you again.

George “Digger” Harkness

Digger’s got a lot of nerves, daring to actually exhibit jealousy. He’s not a cheater, no, but he sure doesn’t exactly keep his eyes locked and loaded on you as much as you would like for him to. The amount of times he’s earned your ire for glancing at a jiggling ass or checking out a pair of swaying hips could fill a small novel.

So you (pretend) that it isn’t petty when you finally gain the opportunity to enact revenge on him.

Considering that his release from Belle Reve wasn’t exactly officiated by actual personnel (and was, in fact, just a flat-out jailbreak), your beloved Aussie had to lay low for a bit. That meant that in order to keep the feds from knocking down your door and getting you more involved than what you already were, Digger had to hide from place to place for a bit before he could even dream of returning back to you and setting up shop in your humble abode. But just because his life was sort of on pause didn’t mean that yours had to be.

It seemed like every time Digger gave you a ring from a burner phone, you were about to be headed out somewhere or were planning on going to an event with friends. Really, the fact that you wanted to go somewhere wild should’ve been a big indication to Digger that you were pulling his leg, but it didn’t matter: On the occasion that you sent a pic of what you planned on wearing, the jealousy consumed him.

You were going out? In that outfit? In that color you know makes you irresistible to both him and probably literally anyone with functioning eyes and a working downstairs!? Well, no, actually: While you did occasionally join your friends for a night out on the town, it was rarely ever in any of the outfits you implanted in Digger’s mind. And even then, for the most part, you weren’t actually going anywhere except to the couch to scroll YouTube or binge watch New Girl until you fell asleep.

But of course, Digger never thought this might’ve been the case. Instead, he thought to enlist the help of “friends” to keep an eye on you and report back to him if any bastard’s eyes or hands went anywhere they didn’t belong, aka on you. And when those efforts came up fruitless (he refused to believe them when they insisted you weren’t acting up), he took matters into his own hands: His dumb ass cut his location-hopping a bit short, appearing at your door a frustrated and possessive mess as he wasted no time storming through the door, hoiking you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes so he could take you to the bedroom and “remind you who you belong to.”

So, in short, Digger’s main resort when he can actually be around you is his go-to for most things he gets involved in that isn’t thievery: He, ahem, “smashes your back out”. Lovely.

Lucifer Morningstar

Lucifer swears he doesn’t get jealous but since he doesn’t think it’s a lie, he’s technically not lying. But he’s most definitely not being forthcoming with the truth. And that truth is that when he gets jealous, Luci becomes the most petty baby of them all!

Normally, he’s pretty confident that he has your attention. After all, what’s not to love? He’s sexy, talented, witty, interesting, and, oh yeah, the literal embodiment of enticement and charisma. Regular men just simply cannot compare! . . . So why in the Heaven would you be smiling at such a drab, bipedal specimen who thinks that they can replace having a personality with simply owning a pocket watch in this day and age!?

He doesn’t care that that guy is your coworker, he’s boring and stupid and there’s no way you really find him interesting, right? . . . Right?

If left to his own devices (hell, he’ll make the devices himself even if you protest), Luci will go out of his way to try and prove that that guy isn’t worth your attention and that you should please keep it on your loving Devil instead please. He’ll bequeath him unpleasant sobriquets; he’ll enlist his connections to dig up some dirt; if you leave them alone together for too long, Lucifer might even ask him what his deepest desire is. But these will often fall flat on the ass: The nicknames will roll off the “opposition’s” back like water off a duck (or you’ll fuss at Lucifer to quit it); the worst thing that could be dug up was that he was a college republican or something; and apparently his deepest desire is to acquire a copy of the Star Wars holiday special.

And somehow, that’s even worse!!

He might actually become a little pathetic (which, considering it’s Lucifer, probably just means his hair becomes a bit less combed, his clothes become more disheveled, and he might even somehow become even more clingy and demanding and even direct his pettiness towards you) because (Y/N), please, you can’t seriously be considering leaving your handsome, interesting, Devil for some boring, sad, oblivious piece of --

Really, the best way to get Lucifer to stop pestering is by reminding him who you’re with: Himself. After all, you’re not going home with the guy from work. Nor do you let him rest his head on your lap so you can play with his hair, or giving him your kisses, or letting him touch you in places only Heaven and Hell know drive you wild.

No . . . Those are reserved only for Lucifer, your beloved Hell bastard, for better or for worse. But mostly for the better -- even though he can sometimes just be the worst.

Clyde Logan

It really depends on the environment, because it ultimately can go one of two ways based on that alone. Clyde thinks the world of you, that you must be some kind of angel to see something good enough in him worth dating. And while it’s a bit of a confidence-booster in some respects, it also leads to a lot of other worries, highlighting even further his own long-term insecurities.

In a way, he’s both shocked and glad that you don’t get hit on every moment of every day the moment you walk out the house: You’re clearly the most gorgeous gal ever. You deserve acknowledgement of this! But then again, he doesn’t want so many eyes on you; one pair might most definitely belong to somebody better for you than him: Better-looking, better at talking, better socially, better job . . .

So when the two of you are out grocery shopping or visiting a local farmer’s market or anything and some rugged fox of a man casts a sensual smirk your way, Clyde can’t help but gain the demeanor of a nervous puppy, his large frame seemingly shrinking as his long hair curtains his face. If he had a tail, it would most certainly have tucked itself between his legs. It only gets slightly better when you only return a polite but small smile and take your partner’s hand to gently lead him elsewhere. But only slightly. It may take some cuddles and smooches when you get home to properly perk Clyde back up, but that’s far from something you mind doing.

However, should you both be at Duck Tape, or any other gathering that might make use of a mixologist for that matter? Clyde is in his element.

Clyde isn’t one to boast or show off; it’s not compatible with his shy nature, and his belief in the Logan Family Curse just doesn’t allow for him to get greedy about it. But if one night you drop by to visit him at work and he sees some guy making goo-goo eyes and hokey small talk at you? It’s on.

It doesn’t matter what drink the guy orders: Clyde immediately knows how to make it and make it perfectly, utilizing only his organic hand. The concoctions are mixed with such ease and precision, his every move emoting a sense of confidence that the unsuspecting would never have guessed a man like him could possess. And if he would be so bold, Clyde might even do so while barely breaking eye contact. It’s all the more better if the guy flirting with you tries ordering a drink for you himself. Because that’s when Clyde can start off with the man’s drink . . . before making you a completely different one entirely. The patron’s brow furrows.

“That’s . . . not what I ordered for her,” he points out.

And Clyde nods. “Nope. But that’s her favorite, and I reckon she’d prefer that over what you wanted her to have.”

You toasting at your beloved and offering a, “Thanks, honey” only sweetens the deal.

There aren’t many opportunities where Clyde feels like The Big Man on Campus, so to speak. But moments like that, where he feels he gets to show some of his worth? He can’t help but be a bit emboldened by them.

Of course, it goes without saying that it isn’t the drink-mixing or skill that drew you to him: It’s that sweet, thoughtful disposition of his. Because let’s face it: In a county of foxes and wolves, you can’t beat a sweet-eyed puppy-dog.