#he was wearing an all black outfit before this which means he deliberately got changed just to go into the jungle to find tiger lily

[jasonisaacs]

i was taking screenshots of this scene to make some gifs and i have only just noticed what hook is wearing here… it’s hard to see from these screenshots but his red coat is actually leather, he’s wearing a black and grey striped shirt and his hat is black with green feathers! i can’t believe i never really paid closer attention to this outfit before…

[whatwewrotepodcast]

OC asks: Character design tag

Thanks @illarian-rambling for the tag!

Currently writing an Ellis chapter and I don't have heaps of time so we'll do Ellis for this one.

FACE & FEATURES

glance: At first glance, what stands out most about your OC's appearance? What's their distinguishing feature?

First thing that stands out about Ellis is his clothes - and that is entirely on purpose. He deliberately dresses extravagantly, in bright colours and bold patterns, so that when people try and remember what they look like, they remember the clothes, not the face.

face: Describe your OC's face. What's their smile like? Are their orbs cerulean? What would someone notice first when looking at them?

Ellis has a wide, charming, cheeky grin, hazel eyes and brown skin with warm undertones. His grin is definitely the first thing you'd notice, though possibly you may also notice that he is HAWT depending on your orientation.

stature: What's your OC's body type? How tall are they? Do they wear clothing to accentuate their look or do they try to mask it?

Ellis is 5'9, and he has a reasonably athletic build, lean rather than bulky, but fit and muscular. Ellis always dresses to accentuate his good looks, which often means sleeveless, low cut or cropped shirts.

motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?

Ellis moves with swagger. He has that sort of loose limbed grace you see with dancers. He is graceful, athletic and extremely aware of where his body is and what it's doing at all times. He loves a swishy skirt to show off his swagger, but only if he doesn't expect to fight. No matter how flashy the outfit, Ellis is always ready to run or fight.

stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves while at rest?

Ellis is restless. Ellis in stillness is a dangerous sign. It usually means he's either losing his shit or has already lost it. He thinks best in motion, pacing, moving around. He taps his fingers against his lips when he's thoughtful or teasing.

canvas: Does your OC have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings? Do they display or cover them up at all?

He's got his ear pierced and has, ahem, some piercings in the downstairs region. He has a large black ink tattoo over the side of his ribcage, a tribal design from an old African culture, though he doesn't know which one (scifi setting so Earth cultures are long in the past). He has a fair few scars, though none big enough to comment on.

CUT & CLOTHES

night: What does your OC wear to sleep? Do they have a favorite pair of PJs, or are they more the birthday suit type?

Ellis sleeps in his boxers or nothing at all. Less to remove, after all.

day: What does your OC wear on a normal day? Why do they default to those clothes? Do they wear similar things, or do they change it up?

As mentioned before, Ellis always dresses to the nines when he's out in public. Bold colours, bright, flashy designs, lots of metallic embroidery, skirts and wide pants or tight pants and shirts with huge collars, depends on the day. When he's home alone in his ship, he leans more towards comfy jeans and hoodies. When he's out, Ellis' priority is to make sure what people remember is not his face, but his clothing, so it's harder for people to identify him later. If the thing you remember about the guy who stole from you is that he was wearing a hot pink skirt, you may be less likely to remember what he actually looked like.

formal: What's your OC's formal look? Do they like dressing up? Do they have different looks for different occasions?

As above, Ellis loooooves to dress up. His formal looks may be a fraction more sedated than his thieving looks, but not much. Possibly more makeup for formal occasions.

informal: What's your OC's lazy-day look? How do they like to dress when they're winding down?

Ellis has a few pairs of comfortable jeans and tshirts he wears when he's just alone in his ship, and that's what he's mostly in when he's not in public.

outerwear: What's your OC's outerwear situation? Jacket, sweater, cloak? What sort of weather do they deal with most and how do they protect themselves?

Ellis is usually in ships or stations, so often doesn't have to deal with weather, but when he does, he's the sort of guy who won't change up his outfit just because he's cold. But when he does, he would have a chic as hell double breasted coat, probably with braiding because why not.

footwear: What does your OC wear on their feet?

Depends on the outfit, darling. Boots, sneakers, whatever works best.

road: What does your OC wear while traveling? Do they have high-quality equipment, or are they making do? What does their gear look like?

Ellis, as a pirate, is always travelling. He likes nice things so when he can afford it he'd make sure he had the best, but he can't always.

armor: What kind of armor does your OC wear? Is it well kept? Bonus: where does it come from? Is there a story behind it?

N/A

arms: Does your OC have any weapons? What weapons do they carry, and how do they wear them when they're not fighting?

Ellis has a couple of blasters that he carries for emergencies, but his main weapon is his ship, the Polaris itself. It has a wide array of dangerous weaponry, from flares to missiles, to a rail gun.

roots: Is your OC's look inspired by any specific style of clothing or fashion trend? What are the roots and/or inspiration for their look?

Ellis' look is definitely inspired by Lando Calrissian, and basically is as camp as you can imagine.

texture: Does your OC favor any specific kinds of cloth or textures? Is there anything they can't wear or don't like? What sort of fabrics do they prefer?

Not really, Ellis will wear whatever's good looking. He'll tolerate a lot of discomfort to look good.

wardrobe: How big is your character's wardrobe? Do they wear things threadbare, or can they afford new clothes often? Are they any good at mending and repairing their own clothing?

It's UUUUGE. Ellis has SO many clothes. He hasn't been able to afford any new ones in a while but it doesn't really matter because he has so many already. He could not mend so much as a holey sock.

ACCESSORIES & ACCENTS

bling: What jewelry does your OC wear? Does it have any meaning?

He usually has an earring in, but that will change depending on what he's wearing - the priority is matching. He has a silver barbel in each of his uhm downstairs piercings. Otherwise he doesn't really wear jewellery permanently, he'll just put on whatever's appropriate for the outfit he's wearing.

hair: How does your OC wear their hair? Does it have some kind of meaning?

Currently he has an undercut with short locs, (similar to how Killmonger had his hair in Black Panther), but he changes it semi regularly depending on how he's feeling.

makeup: Does your OC wear makeup? How often? What kind? Why do they wear makeup, and do they like it?

Oh hell yes he absolutely does. Ellis uses makeup the same way he uses his clothes - as a mask, a distraction, a way to draw attention away from his actual face. He will usually do eyeshadow, eyeliner and mascara, sometimes lipstick, depending on the vibe. He usually matches the colour to his outfit, but it's always dramatic.

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

He doesn't really. Ellis doesn't have a lot of things . . his life has been a series of brief engagements but he's never really settled down or had any close people in his life, so he hasn't really formed attachments to any particular items.

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

Certainly about 6 or 7 years ago, when Ellis struck out on his own and became a pirate, he first picked up the persona of campness, the flamboyant dress and appearance. Before that he dressed much more sedately, "normally" one might say. Ellis sees the persona he has created for himself as a mask, a protection. He doesn't resent it, he appreciates it - the freedom it gives him. He's yet to truly figure out who he is without this.

alternate: What would your OC's alternate universe look be? If they're a fantasy character, what's their modern look? If they're sci-fi, what's their fantasy look? What AU would you want to see your OC in, and how would they dress themself? Bonus: Prompt an AU!

Oh interesting. Fantasy AU Ellis . . I mean, probably would still be a pirate to be honest. But on a sailing ship instead of a space ship. I think he'd probably still dress a bit flamboyantly, but probably not quite as much - I doubt his gender presentation would go down so well in a traditional fantasy setting.

Tagging @willtheweaver @agirlandherquill @leahnardo-da-veggie

[duskholland]

Idea for a smut with tom that he's somewhere far off for filming, so you video chat before bed. One day you decide to tease him a bit by wearing something that shows off your boobs but tom being the gentleman he is, tries not to look, maybe you're still in the early stages of dating. But then when you hang up he admits he had to hold himself back from looking at you to which you answer that you did it on purpose. And he's like FUCK and calls you up again to show you how hard you made him and👀👀

this concept...ooft. I absolutely love it, thank you so much for sending it my way !!! 2.2k, nsfw; 18+ minors dni!!

—clearing out the askbox: smut edition—

extended warnings: cyber sex, mutual masturbation.

———

As your phone screen buffers and loads the video call, you pull at the top of your tank top, mischievously dragging it down your chest in order to expose some more skin. The moment you’d got the text from your boyfriend, Tom, asking if you’d like to call him, you’d pulled off your bra and slithered into the very tight, very form-fitting top. You’re resting over the bed now, on your front, and as you check out your reflection in the dark loading screen of your phone, you realise that your objective has been completed: your boobs look great, and you look hot.

You enjoy teasing Tom, love the way he always tries to act like such a gentleman when he’s around you. You’ve only been together a few months, and over the past two weeks that he’s been away on location shooting his new film, you’ve had fun stripping down and slipping into a different provocative outfit each night, just to see how far you can push it before he snaps. So far, you’ve gotten away with a variety of interesting garments: tight dresses, thin bra straps, no shirt... And yet Tom’s resolve has remained strong as he looks anywhere but your figure, eyes fixed firmly on your face as his cheeks dust red with arousal over the course of each call. You know you have an effect over him, but he isn’t allowing himself to show it, which is just testament to his endearing chivalry.

It’s fun, and you love teasing him like this, but you’ve grown fed up with the games. Now, the only objective you have is to push him over the edge, to the point where you’ve slipped on this tight top, applied a coat of your favourite lipstick, and greet him with a slightly seductive smirk as the call connects through.

“Hey, Tom,” you say, smiling at him.

Your boyfriend looks very handsome tonight. He’s sitting up against the headboard, wrapped up in an orange and green striped rugby shirt. He looks tired, deep bags hanging beneath his sparkling brown eyes, but as he meets your gaze through the camera, he grins. His entire face springs to life, a wide smile unfurling over his lovely pink lips.

“Hi, darling,” Tom replies, accented voice crisp and familiar. You sigh happily as you sit forward a little, your eyes following the lines of his brown curls, heart fluttering in your chest as you see him again. “How are you?”

For a while, you exchange pleasantries. Tom tells you all about his day on set, talking about the acrobatics involved with swinging around on high wires, and then the topic turns to you and your day. You keep steady eye contact with him, smirking softly every time you reposition and you watch Tom try very, very hard not to look at your bust. The way you’re laying, spread out across the mattress, means the tops of your boobs inhabit the entire lower section of the screen. After a while of watching Tom slowly getting more flustered, you start to play around with the thin strap of the top, enjoying the way he continuously clears his throat and tries, almost painfully, to keep his eyes up on your face.

You have to give it to him: his attempts at preserving your dignity are very valiant and well-mannered. It amuses you to work him up like this, to see very obviously the effect that you have over him as Tom resorts to scratching at his neck and pulling at his hair as he tries to distract himself from looking at your tits. He reaches breaking point about ten minutes in when you sit up straighter and the camera picks up the line of your pebbled nipples, straining against the shirt.

“Oh, uh, Y/N, darling, I’m- I’m going to have to go,” he mutters. You see him swallow, eyes wide.

“Oh, really?” You coo, pouting softly. “How come?”

Tom shifts around on the bed, managing a very weak smile. “Just remembered I have some, uh, things to do,” he says. “Talk tomorrow?”

You exchange some farewells, and then your heart sinks as Tom disconnects the call and your phone screen falls black. You scowl as you throw yourself back onto the bed, wishing that Tom wasn’t so lovely, and respectful, and kind. You love those qualities, and your boyfriend is nothing but incredible towards you, but part of you wishes that you were at that stage in your relationship where you could just cut to the chase and enact your darkest desires over video call, instead of having to try and goad him into releasing his frustrations with you.

After a few moments of contemplation, your phone screen lights up and interrupts your reveries.

Tom <3: were you doing that on purpose

You raise an eyebrow as you reach for your phone, biting your lip as you continue the conversation with him.

Y/N: idk...what are you talking about?

Tom <3: your shirt Tom <3: did you wear it so low on purpose or is it just like that

Y/N: did it on purpose Y/N: cute to see you try not to look at me Y/N: very innocent

You see the message come up with the notification for read, then watch as the text bubble for Tom typing pops up, only to disappear a moment later. Just as your eyebrows start to furrow with confusion, your phone begins to vibrate again, and you smile as you see another incoming video message from Tom. You quickly press accept, then roll onto your back and lay back on your bed, head resting against your pillows as your free hand goes to rest on your lower stomach.

The call connects, and your eyes widen as you take in the sight of your boyfriend, bare-chested now, his hair slightly messier than before. His bright brown eyes are wide as he looks at you, glaring mischievously at you as he licks over his lower lip.

“You little minx,” he murmurs, narrowing his eyes into slits. “I knew it.”

You just shrug, humming softly. “You’re cute,” you reply. You waggle your eyebrows as your eyes shamelessly take in the expanse of his naked chest. “And hot.”

Tom chuckles. “So are you,” he returns. He’s a lot looser now, you realise, his face less a bright red, more a gentle pink. “I had to try so hard not to look at you, didn’t want you to think I was being weird.” Tom licks his lips. “If I’d known you were doing it on purpose…” He clucks his tongue, and as he sees the lust in your eyes, he adds, “Makes me so fucking hard to see you like this, love.”

Your eyes move over the screen, and you realise you can’t see one of Tom’s arms. With an arching eyebrow, you bite your lip.

“Show me?” You ask, softly.

Tom glances at you, seeming to contemplate it for a moment before nodding. “Will you show me?” He asks.

“What do you want to see?”

Your boyfriend groans, as if the question brings him unrestricted levels of pleasure. “Everything.”

You chuckle as you nod. “Gimme a sec.”

With excited hands, you put the phone down and stand from the bed, making quick work of your jeans as you wriggle out of them. Next to go are your panties, and then the very thin tank top. You settle back on the bed, fully naked, picking up the phone and holding it in front of you. You keep it angled towards your face, but you know he’s able to see the tops of your chest, complete bare now for him.

“So gorgeous, love,” he murmurs, voice warm and familiar. “Look at what you’ve done to me.”

Your throat runs dry as Tom flips the camera on his phone and the image changes. He’s still laying on his hotel bed, but you’re greeted with the sight of his hand, wrapped in a fist around his hard, leaking cock. The sharp camera picks up the precum leaking from his flushed tip, and you moan softly as you watch him run a thumb over his length, spreading the precum down his length as he goes back to jerking himself off, slow but deliberate, his quiet grunts coming down the line.

“Was that all me?” You reply, captivated as you watch the muscles in his forearm flex. Your cunt clenches, wetness pooling at your entrance as you reminisce on the times you’ve spent with his cock in your mouth, or your hand, or buried deep inside you. You let your hand slip down between your legs, fingertips brushing at your cunt and gathering some of your arousal before spreading it up to your clit.

“Yes,” Tom replies. His voice is louder now he’s holding the phone closer to his face, and the sound of his tone in such high quality makes you shiver. “Show me, please?”

You continue to rub your clit, teasing your bud with delicate circles as you fumble with your phone and flip the camera too, holding the device above you as you get a shot of your chest. You know he can see your hand between your legs, but the strategic position of your fingers blocks out the sight of your pussy, flushed and wet for him.

“Fuck, darling,” Tom groans. “You look incredible.”

You bite at your lip, shifting around on the bed and angling the phone so he can see your naked chest.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you reply. You pause for a moment, breath hitching when you reach down and slip two fingers into your tight heat. As you work yourself open, you look into the camera and speak directly to him. “I feel so empty without you,” you complain, lips rolling into a pout. “Wish you were here to fuck me properly.” With a mischievous smirk, you pull the phone further down your body, parting your thighs properly and letting him get a nice, long look at the sight of your fingers fucking your cunt. “I’m so wet for you.”

Your boyfriend whimpers and the sound makes your cunt throb. You keep the phone trained between your legs, but angle it so you can watch the screen, enjoying the sight of Tom stroking himself, his cock red and fully erect. There’s something so seductive about getting off together, something very intimate about exposing yourself like this to him, and in return being able to see the power that you hold over him.

“So pretty, baby,” he says. “I think about your pretty fucking pussy every day. Get off to it with my hand around my cock, just like this. I imagine being inside you, feeling you- fuck, feeling you taking me so well, so tight.” A strangled groan comes up his throat, and you whimper. You readjust your hand so the flat of your thumb hits against your clit, a high forming in the pit of your stomach. “Does that feel good?” He asks, and you know he can hear the sounds of you fucking your wetness with your fingers. “Do you like showing me your cunt like this?”

You moan, your chest heaving as you curl your fingers up to stimulate your g-spot.

“Yes, Tom,” you reply, your voice coming out weak. “Love it.”

“That’s my girl.” Tom’s tone is high and tight, stretched thin with lust. You see the way his phone shakes as he gets nearer to peaking, his hand moving quickly over his cock. “Gonna let me watch you cum, hmm? I want to see you get your fingers wet for me, lovie.”

You moan in response, nodding your head despite him being unable to see him. “Fuck,” you whimper, feeling it near. “Gonna cum.”

Tom grunts. “Go on,” he encourages, voice raspy. “I’m gonna blow, darling, let me see you. Fuck, pussy looks so sweet. Bet it’s so tight and warm, isn’t it? Are you going to let me watch you cum?”

You moan as you peak, warmth spreading out across your centre in powerful waves as you climax with a cry. Your eyes squeeze shut as the intensity of your orgasm takes you off guard, and when you’re able to open them a few moments later, you’re greeted with the sight of Tom cumming. His pretty moans and whines make you shiver, prolonging your high as you watch him peak, white cum shooting from his tip and all across his stomach. It’s so messy, and frenzied, and it’s all for you.

“Fuck, Tom,” you groan, basking in the afterglow. “You’re so hot.”

After a few moments of his ragged breathing, Tom flips the camera and you’re greeted with his face again. Once you’ve done the same, you’re able to look into his eyes, finding comfort in the warm slopes of his lips and the gentle love reflecting from his gaze. You feel closer to him - closer than ever before.

“You’re stunning,” Tom compliments, causing you to smile at him. “So beautiful, love.”

You bite at your lip, shrugging almost bashfully. “Thank you,” you mutter, using a hand to tame your hair. You wink at him as you relax, slowly recovering your breath. “That was fun.”

Tom nods, his curly brown hair a mess over his forehead. “It was,” he agrees. His teeth glint as he smiles at you, wide and proud. “How about, next time you feel like having some fun, you just come out and tell me?” He suggests.

You grin. “You mean you didn’t enjoy my teasing?”

He chuckles. “Oh, believe me, darling, I did.” Tom grins wickedly. “Just I much rather enjoy the sight of you fucking yourself for me.”

You bite your lip, feeling your cunt throb in response to his words.

“Sounds good to me.” Your hand creeps back down between your legs, and you look at him slyly. “Round two?”

[consumeconstantly]

A Discowing at the Wayne Gala

Summary: Getting Jason to go to the Wayne Gala each year was more difficult than putting the Joker away in Arkham; he insisted the part was full of pretentious, rich social climbers who were horribly boring. As it turned out, all he really needed to persuade him was an upset, drunk girl rambling about how much she was going to deck her highschool enemies there to convince himself that he’d be in for a great show. (AKA the extremely chaotic and nonsensical salt/crack fic)

____________________________________________________

“I, Mar--” she hiccupped, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng solemnly swear to rip Lila a new one with Discowing’s godawful costume.”

“You say it girl!” called some random person from across the bar. 

“I will--” another hiccup “--use Batman’s Batmobile to run over Kim. And slam Red Hood’s ugly ass helmet onto Adrien’s stupid face.”

“Better yet,” Marinette pounded the table, “I will use their stupid utility belts to dismantle Gabriel’s empire. Somebody give me a yeah!”

“Yeah!”

All in all, the sight wasn’t that atypical for a bar in Gotham, if it weren’t for the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was barely five feet, wore pigtails, and knocked five men on their asses when they tried to approach her. 

“Take that, Hawkass,” she hissed. “Think you can pull a fast one on me when I’m drunk, do you? Well I’ve got news for you!”

Her words slurred together, and she leaned on the bar for support. “When I get my way, you’re going to be tied up into a pretzel and dumped into a volcano, then the tundra and then we’ll see how you like your stupid little jewlery touched.”

“Dupain-Cheng,” her blonde companion hissed. “Get yourself together. We don’t need another one of your breakdowns now. You know we’re going to be busy tomorrow night, and I don’t want to deal with you completely hung over all throughout the gala.”

“Aww,” Marinette squished her cheek onto Chloe’s “You know you love me.”

“Yes, yes, but I’m not going to tolerate this bullshit. If you want to make good on your plans, you need to be in tip top shape.”

“Ughhhh, why are they even invited to the stupid gala? It’s not even like they’re rich! Oh wait, I guess they are…” Marinette pressed her face to the bar, which was undoubtedly dirty. She reveled in it’s coolness, brushing her bangs out of her face. “And why do you have to be right? I guess I have to stop drinking if I want to make any of my plans work.”

“Your plans will work, hungover or not. It’s just a question of how much you’ll be able to enjoy them. I don’t want you complaining for months after the fact that you don’t remember half of what happened.”

“I guess you’re right. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I'm feeling a little too warm to ice them out.” Staggering, Marinette got to her feet. “Call an Uber?”

“It’s already here.”

#

“What made you change your mind?” Tim frowned at Jason, doubtful that he wasn’t going to cop out at the last second. He was sure that he was only putting on his suit as some sort of deliberate ploy to get out of the Gala. Truthfully, it wasn’t required that all of them attend the Gala, but it was one of the few events that brought together most of the Wayne family.

Jason ran a hand through his hair and smirked. “Let’s just say I’m expecting quite the show.”

#

Jason kept a hawkish gaze on the entrance, waiting for the appearance of one short, pigtailed girl, and a taller blonde. They arrived almost forty five minutes into the Gala, which was good timing; not late enough to be considered rude, but most people have already arrived and have made their rounds.

Marinette looked different out of the dim lighting of the bar, and even though she definitely looks like she’s nursing a light hangover, she still managed to look stunning. With a matte-black floor length dress that attracted all light in the vicinity towards it, it’s hard not to look her way; Tim, for one, stared at the outfits that Marinette and her companion are wearing with stars in his eyes. Any moment now, he’s going to approach them. Or he would if he weren’t on Jason-sitting duty.

“I’ll play nice,” Jason promised.

“You? Nice?” Tim sounded incredulous, and it’s not like he can fault him. Whenever Jason did successfully get roped into coming to the Gala, it’s a sure thing that he gets at least one fist fight started, if not an everyone for themselves sort of situation. 

“They’re the reason I decided to come. It’s not me you have to be worried about.”

Tim groaned. “Really? They’re trouble makers? But they’re wearing MDC!”

Jason chuckled, slipping a hand into his pants pocket. Tim was weirdly obsessed with the highly secretive French designer. Nobody ever saw them in person. “Wearing your fashion icon doesn’t mean they can’t kick ass.”

Tim rocked back on his heels, looking at the two girls calculatively. “That’s right. If anything, they’re more likely to kick ass, because that’s the kind of confidence that MDC inspires in their designs. Well, if you’re not going to fight them, I’m going to introduce myself.”

“And I can’t leave my little brother alone.” Jason said, watching the blonde girl point in the direction of, if he wasn’t mistaken, Gabriel Agreste’s son and his plus one.

Who knew that doing a preliminary reading of the guests would be so informative? He could only guess what kind of beef Marinette had with Agreste Jr.--Bruce had enough problems with Gabriel; even though Wayne Enterprises only dabbled in fashion, Gabriel was a ruthless man when it came to his competitors, and tried to edge them out of the market multiple times. Foolish on his part, not taking into consideration that both Bruce and Tim were very, very stubborn people who only get more difficult to face when dealing with a challenge.

Wayne Enterprise might primarily be considered with R&D and technology companies, but underestimating the amount of influence Tim could gather when someone pissed him off was just a bad idea.

“Hi, I’m Tim--”

“--and it’s lovely to meet you, but we’re on a mission right now,” finished the blonde girl, who Jason was now 98% sure is Chloe Bourgeois, daughter of Paris’ mayor and Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois. “Dupain-Cheng, it’s your time to shine.”

“God,” Marinette muttered underneath her breath, ducking her head. “I can’t believe you’re holding me to what I said while drunk last night.”

“It’s not just what you said drunk last night, it’s the most effective way of dealing with that liar. She’ll be so embarrassed she’ll hide away forever. Maybe get some plastic surgery and change her name. Daddy will make sure she can never step foot in Paris again.” 

“Chloe,” Marinette groaned. “We all know how that panned out last time. Do you want a repeat performance?”

“By that time Hawkmoth will already be taken down. No need to worry about evil butterflies.”

“Evil butterflies?” Tim frowned. 

“We can fill you in later, Marinette has a car to steal.”

“Chloe!” 

“Oh stuff it, Dupain-Cheng, you’re no goody two shoes, even though you pretend to be one.”

Marinette whispers into Chloe’s ear, eyeing Jason and Tim. “Do you have to discuss that with other people around?”

“Well,” Chloe crossed her arms. “You boys aren’t going to rat us out, are you? They’re part of the infamous Wayne family. They’ll definitely be in.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You know they already reached out-- I can’t risk--” Marinette kept cutting herself off. “Fine, but if you-know-what falls through, I’m putting it all on you.”

“Like they’re going to pass you up just because of what’s going to go down at this gala. If anything, they’ll be glad to know that you’re as vicious as you are creative,” Chloe checked her nails and touched her hair, making sure it was in place.

“Sorry, what? I’m a little bit lost.”

“Keep up, Drake. I’m beginning to doubt your title as child-genius.You have the unique opportunity to watch history in the making.”

#

“Wait,” Tim’s jaw almost dropped at the display in front of him. “How did you even--”

“Trade secret. Marinette doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“But that’s the Batmobile.”

“Yeah, and?”

Jason laughed. He stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile, Marinette stole the whole thing. What a sight.

#

Here’s how the rest of the night went: Chloe plied Marinette with copious amounts of water, trying to get rid of her headache. Marinette hopped into the driver’s seat of the Batmobile (to which Chloe cackled, “And she doesn’t even have a driver’s license yet,” and Tim paled to the shade of freshly fired ceramic plate.) They ran over Kim, who, somehow managed to get into the event as a server of sorts, at which point Tim swore that the background checks would have to be upped again. Marinette landed the Batmobile in the middle of the gala, barely managing to avoid several innocents who were in her path. She reached into the convenient storage compartment that Jason was previously unaware of and pulled out the Discowing outfit and his helmet-- seriously, how did she get those?-- and slammed the car door.

Security, of course, was waiting for them. How couldn’t they, with that big of a disturbance? Half of the guests were up in a tizzy-- mostly the ones who were experiencing their first Wayne Gala-- and the other half were looking on, amused. Tim waved the guards off as Marinette made her way to Lila and Adrien, like a vengeful Valkyrie.

“You,” Marinette grimaced. “Chloe, say the words, I forgot them.”

“We decided that words were useless, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Marinette said, before promptly slamming Red Hood’s helmet onto Adrien’s head hard enough for him to fall to the ground, likely concussed. Lila, who started screeching and running away made for a surprisingly difficult target. Well, difficult in the fact that she was using other people as shields, but once she came across a group of Experienced Wayne Gala Goers, she got pushed out of her comfort zone.

In eight inch heels and with her hair down, Marinette stalked towards her prey. 

“Lila Rossi,” Marinette intoned. “Your sins will be judged.”

“What are you going to do, Marinette? You have no power here. We’re in America now. No Ladybug to back you up. No public opinion in your favor.”

Marinette shuddered. “Ugh, your voice makes me want to vomit. In any case, I sentence you to life in Discowing’s costume.”

“You can’t make me wear anything!”

Famous last words, Lila.

#

“I’m still so confused. What just happened?”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe gave Tim a pat on the back. “You’ll get used to this kind of thing if you end up hanging around Marinette more often.”

“I think I’m in love,” said Jason.

“Get in the back of the line. The only thing Marinette has time for now are her plans to take down Hawkmoth.”

“I’m not opposed to joining you. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” Jason paused. “By the way, has she already stolen the utility belts to take down Gabriel or does she need more? I’ve got contacts.”

 "Fair warning, everything in Paris is at least twenty times crazier than what you’ve seen here today.” Chloe swiped through a few notifications on her phone. “And please, do you think someone who hotwired the Batmobile needs your help getting her hands on a couple utility belts? If she really put her mind to it, she could get the Lasso of Truth from Wonder Woman.”

“Yeah, Jason, I’m definitely not going to join you on that trip.” Tim turned his attention towards Marinette, who was currently passed out on the hotel couch. “Anyways, You two are wearing MDC, right? I have a meeting with them tomorrow!”

Chloe looked at the poor boy with pity. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

________________________________________________

i’m really churning out these jasonette prompts like butter (god butter is so freaking good you ever eat butter straight? i do. heart attack city & the next paula dean) even tho i only thought about joining in right when july was ending but here we are 

[sparrow-flies-south]

Forget-Me-Not

Pairings: Thomas & Virgil Summary: It takes him a moment to figure out what Roman’s saying. It takes him a moment longer to be able to process it. Virgil with amnesia, not knowing what was happening. Not knowing he was safe.

“He remembers us,” Roman continues. “Sort of. He just- doesn’t seem to remember the last few years.”

“How many years?” Thomas croaks out.

Virgil loses his memory. Thomas makes sure he knows just how much things have changed. Warnings: Amnesia Notes: Written for Virgil's birthday, except a couple of days late because I forgot I had this idea until last night

Thank you Mishii for the title!

Masterpost  Read on AO3

Waking up anxious wasn’t exactly unheard of, but it has been a while since Thomas had done it.

He dresses slowly, racking his mind for anything he could have missed – deadlines, birthdays, something that would explain how he is feeling, but nothing comes. Virgil doesn’t even show up to berate him for anything.

So it must be just one of those days.

He spends an hour trying to work before giving up and deciding to watch Park and Recreation to try to distract himself. Janus would be proud.

He half expects Janus to pop up to bully him into taking care of himself, but he doesn’t. Neither does Logan, to explain what’s wrong, or Patton, or Roman, or even Remus.

It’s Virgil’s absence that he notices the most, though.

Because Virgil was never one to shy away from telling Thomas what he was doing wrong. And even though they get along better now, Virgil no longer lashing out at anyone who got close like a feral cat, Virgil will still do his job.

By lunch time, he decides that he’s given his sides long enough.

“Okay,” Thomas says, standing in his usual spot of the living room. “Someone want to explain what’s happening?”

It’s meant for Virgil, an obvious place for him to jump in, without the pressure that Thomas knows would scare him away. And if not Virgil, then Logan would come out, ready to break everything down into facts.

Instead, it’s Roman who appears.

Roman looks – stressed. His outfit is the same as usual, but his hair is messy, as if he’s been running his hands through it too much. He smiles sheepishly at Thomas.

“What, uh, what appears to be the problem, Thomas?” he asks, and that hesitation is another thing that’s wrong.

“I was kind of hoping you would tell me that,” Thomas says, trying not to let his growing fear show. “Where is everyone?”

“They’re, uh, busy! Very, very busy. So busy that I’m the one who came to help you.”

“Right.” Thomas doesn’t believe that one bit. “Does that have anything to do with why I’m feeling like this?”

Roman frowns, concern growing on his face. “Like what?”

Thomas sighs, and runs his hand through his hair. “Anxious,” he answers, and Roman’s face falls. “I’ve been feeling it all day. Is that- Is Virgil-”

“Virgil, uh, may have something to do with it,” Roman admits. “Not deliberately, it’s just that, well-”

“Roman, this really isn’t helping my anxiety, buddy,” Thomas says. “Just tell me. Is Virgil okay?”

Roman sighs. “Physically he’s fine. Or rather, metaphysically, perhaps. You know what I mean.”

“And mentally?”

“He, uh, well… hemayhaveamneisia.”

It takes him a moment to figure out what Roman’s saying. It takes him a moment longer to be able to process it. Virgil with amnesia, not knowing what was happening. Not knowing he was safe.

“He remembers us,” Roman continues. “Sort of. He just- doesn’t seem to remember the last few years.”

“How many years?” Thomas croaks out.

Roman pulls a face. “He doesn’t remember telling us his name.”

God, that’s- that might be even worse than Virgil not remembering anything. Because the Virgil back then had been constantly on edge, constantly lashing out because he thought he’d be attacked first if he didn’t. And Thomas and his sides- they’d just made things worse. Constantly.

“Patton is with him,” Roman adds, which helped, a bit. “Logan, too, though I think he’s focusing on finding a way to reverse this. I figured I’d be the most use up here. Virgil and I – well, I can’t imagine he wants to see me right now.”

He says this last part with a sad smile. Thomas doesn’t know what to say – Virgil loves Roman, would likely want everyone nearby when he was feeling bad. But the Virgil of before was a different story.

And right now, Roman isn’t the one Thomas can focus on.

“Is he-” Thomas takes a breath, figures out what he wants to say. “I want to see him.”

Roman hesitates. “I’m not sure if that’s-”

“Please,” Thomas says. “If he doesn’t want to, then that’s fine, but- can you please just ask?”

Roman hesitated a moment longer, and then nods, sinking down without a word. As soon as he’s gone, Thomas feels like a puppet with all its strings cut. He deflates, sinking onto the couch, and rests his head in his hands.

This is- bad. Really bad. Because Virgil clearly isn’t taking it well – if how Thomas is feeling is anything to go by, Virgil is scared, has been scared all day.

“You rang?” a voice intones from the side.

Thomas leaps to his feet. “Virgil,” he cries out in relief.

Virgil flinches, and then stiffens, as if he’s trying to hide the fact that he just flinched. He’s not wearing purple, just his old black hoodie, and the sight of it makes something in Thomas’ chest clench.

“Sorry,” Thomas says. “I can just call you Anxiety, if you want?”

Virgil hunches in on himself. “Call me whatever,” he mutters. “I don’t care.”

Which means that he does care, very deeply. Only problem is, Thomas isn’t sure which way that goes.

“Right,” Thomas says, and then he stops, because he really doesn’t know where to go from there.

Virgil fidgets. “Princey said you wanted to see me?”

“Yeah. I, uh, actually wanted to see how you were.”

Virgil freezes, his eyes widening. “What?”

“Roman – I mean, Prince, told me what happened,” Thomas explains.

Virgil doesn’t reply, just keeps his gaze fixed on a point across the room. His whole body is taught, like he’s ready to make a break for it at any minute.

“I’ve been feeling anxious all day,” Thomas continues. He manages a smile and adds, “Kept expecting you to show up and tell me everything I’m doing wrong.”

“Yeah, well, there’s probably something,” Virgil mutters.

Thomas huffs, feeling like he’s being hissed at by a feral kitten. He wonders how he ever felt scared of Virgil.

Virgil looks surprised at Thomas’ reaction, and the edge of his lips twitch in what Thomas can now recognise as a Virgil-smile.

“This must be scary for you,” Thomas adds, gently, and Virgil’s face shutters.

“It’s fine.”

Thomas shakes his head. “Anxiety-”

“Look, if there’s nothing else you want, I might as well go.”

“Don’t,” Thomas blurts, and Virgil goes perfectly still. “I mean, if you really want to you can, I’m not going to force you. But, uh, I’d like it if you stay.”

“You never want me around,” Virgil says suspiciously, like he thinks this might be some kind of trap, and Thomas’ heart aches.

Thomas sighs. “I know I never used to, I can’t deny that. But things have changed since then.”

“My name.”

“That was part of it, yeah, but- I guess I figured out how important you are.”

Virgil’s breath shudders, and Thomas continues, hoping he’s saying the right thing. “You were always trying to look out for me, weren’t you? I never appreciated that.”

“Right,” Virgil says thickly.

“I love you,” Thomas adds, and Virgil’s face falls.

“You can’t just-“

“Why not?” Thomas asks.

Virgil doesn’t reply, not that Thomas really expected him to. Thomas steps back and sits on the sofa, Virgil watching him like he’s a wild animal the whole time.

“I was watching Parks and Rec,” Thomas says, and Virgil nods.

“Right,” he says, “I’ll just-”

“Do you want to join me?” Thomas asks.

Virgil goes tense again, and God, Thomas really did mess up so many times, didn’t he? But then Virgil says, “Really?” in a quiet voice, and something warm inside him begins to untangle.

“Yeah,” Thomas says, and pats the sofa next to him.

It takes another moment for Virgil to sit down, still tightly wound and casting glances Thomas’ way. As the episode continues, Virgil begins to relax, just a little. Thomas finds himself edging closer to Virgil – it’s not even on purpose, just his instincts pushing him to be as close to his Sides as he can.

He doesn’t notice how close they are until his arm brushes against Virgil’s. Virgil goes tense, and then relaxes into the touch. Thomas carefully curls an arm around him, the contact making his skin buzz.

“What are you doing?” Virgil hisses.

“I can stop,” Thomas offers. “If you want.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Virgil mutters, and Thomas smothers a smile.

“You’re my friend,” Thomas explains. “I want to hug you.”

“I’m your Anxiety.”

“Yeah,” Thomas says. “And that’s- I love you for it.”

“You’re not supposed to.”

“But wouldn’t it be easier if I did?”

Virgil doesn’t answer, but he does lean into Thomas’ touch. Thomas chooses to count it as a victory.

“Anxiety, I’m so, so sorry I made you feel that way,” Thomas says, meaning every word.

“It’s fine. I just- things are really different now?” He sounded scared, more so than Thomas had ever heard him. It was like he thought Thomas was about to pull the rug out from underneath him.

“Yeah, buddy,” Thomas says. “Things are- things are pretty great, now, actually.”

Virgil curls into Thomas, and oh, he’s crying now. Thomas holds him tighter, presses a kiss to his forehead. Eventually, the shaking subsides, but Thomas still doesn’t move away. Virgil needs him right now, which means that Thomas? Thomas isn’t going anywhere.

[tomorrowsdrama]

So the costumes in rebel princess are obviously beautiful and incredibly detailed.  But I love that the costuming also informs us about a character’s social standing and for some characters, their state of mind as well.  Or in Song Huaien’s case, how far into the dark side he’s gone.  He’s really the inspiration for this post.  As I was re-watching some of the early episodes while waiting for the new subs (shhh, I know I’m unhealthily obsessed with this drama), I noticed not only how drastically his costuming/hair has changed, but also that he’s pretty much a mirror of whoever he chooses to follow at the moment.  Cheng’s very own Single White Female without the obsessive craziness, if you will.  Delusional?  Sure.  But not quite crazy.

But first, let’s talk about the clothing of the noble class.  I’m sorry for this thesis that I’m going to inflict on everyone that no one asked for.  I’ve joked about the long trains on Awu/the nobles’ clothing before, but it’s clear that they are a sign of high status and wealth.  The higher ranked/wealthier you are, the longer your train is it seems.  Also, just in general, the nobles’ outfits usually include an abundance/overflowing of luxe silky and billowy material.  See:

And the nobles can afford to have such styles of clothing not just monetarily, but also lifestyle wise.  To put it bluntly, the nobles don’t have to do shit in their lives so they can afford to drag long trains of expensive fabric back and forth in their huge manors/the palace.  These clothes aren’t for functionality, but for beauty/showing off your wealth (whether intentionally or not).  If they need to go anywhere, they have comfy carriages to travel in instead of walking long distances.  If they need something?  That’s what servants are for.  I mean, just imagine how cumbersome it is to move around with such huge billowy sleeves and six feet of cloth dragging behind your ass.  You don’t have to imagine, just look at this scene where Daddy Wang visits Prime Minister Wen in prison (oh, how I regret taking this time for granted and condemning Daddy Wang for imprisoning that old fool):

Look at how his train drags over the threshold of the prison door.  Daddy Wang literally has to lift his train and throw it over a bench in order to sit down.  

The higher your status, the less physical activity you have to partake in a.k.a. the more useless you are, so it should come as no surprise that the longest train I’ve seen so far in the drama belongs to none other than our Useless Mopey Teenager Zitan:

The clothing choices are pretty deliberate, because whenever a character needs to do something more than just sit around enjoying tea (or wine if you’re Awu), they are given clothes that are more practical for moving around. Like the outfit Awu wore when she chased after her dad:

It’s much shorter than her usual garb and she’s wearing simple black pants underneath which makes horse riding and chasing after a traitorous father much more manageable.

What’s interesting is seeing the opposite happen with Hu Yao.  Hu Yao is usually in very practical and simple clothing since unlike the rest of the nobles in the capital, she has to fight against invaders and protect Cheng.  But when she goes to meet our Emo Emperor Zitan, of course she has to be dressed up in a big frou frou dress that makes it hard to walk:

It highlights just how impractical this type of extravagant clothing is for any kind of life other than a noble’s.  Hu Yao can barely walk without tripping over her own dress, let alone fight.  Also what the hell is that giant bow?

Now let’s talk about Daddy Wang’s clothes.  So before he gets exiled for attempting a coup, Daddy Wang was arguably the most powerful man in court.  He was the head of the Wangs, the most influential noble family in Cheng.  The past 10 empresses of the empire were daughters of the Wang clan, and his sister, the current empress, listened to whatever he said (for the most part).  Also his nephew wass the crown prince and easily manipulated.  He’s also wealthy AF so his status and wealth was apparent in his clothing.

Look at the sheen on that fabric and all that intricate embroidery work!  But then of course, he gets exiled and understandably has to put on some more humble clothing:

Simple, unembellished clothing made of coarse fabric that can withstand moving through the fields and rough terrain while you covertly make your way towards your disappointment of a son.  What really sticks out to me though, is his wardrobe choice after he reunites with the turnip.  Instead of going back to the lavish and ornate clothing he used to wear, he opts for an understated gray and black outfit with no long train in sight:

Turnip obviously can afford to put his dad in fancier clothing.  I mean look at the gaudy over-embroidered monstrosity that he’s wearing.  But it makes sense that Daddy Wang has now opted for something a bit more subdued and modest.  He’s been defeated once and is no longer the powerful prime minister he used to be.  Also, the Wangs do not hold as much clout as they used to because 1) empress has gone mad; 2) potato emperor is dead; and 3) the official head of the Wangs is now...Turnip.  

But make no mistake, his clothes may be simpler than before, but they’re still made out of very nice materials. He is after all, still Daddy Wang.  And Wang will rise again if he can help it! 

Next we have the seagull.  Ugh, yuck, gross, I hate her.  Anyway, now that I’ve gotten the bad taste out of my mouth...So for the majority of the drama we see her in light pastel colored clothing with little to no make up as if to imply that she’s a sweet, innocent thing:

She’s also usually pretty covered up.  But then she becomes Concubine Su (ugh) and all of a sudden she’s in bold colors, wearing red lipstick, and most noticeably, gotten very breast-y

Man, did Seagull make a wrong turn and accidentally stumble onto the set of The Empress of China?  She’s definitely got the tackiness to fit in with them.  This drastic shift in styling is clearly to signal to the audience that Seagull is now a seductress ready to do whatever it takes to hold onto that magical flute and never let go.  Also, whereas before she was a snake hiding in the grass, now it’s all out in the open (at least to the Wangs) just like her bosom.

Look, she even gets her own long train to reflect just how useless she is.

And finally, we have Song Huaien, Cheng’s very own Single White Female who molds himself to whoever he happens to follow and takes on their personality and principals (or lack thereof).

In the beginning, he is stuck to Xiao Qi’s side like a shadow, dresses similar to him, and even wears his hair like him.  He’s like the kid brother who copies everything his cooler older brother does because he looks up to him. 

Notably, he’s the only one in the Ningshuo crew who wears his hair down with a half bun, just like Xiao Qi.  Hu Guanglie (RIP best bro) is XQ’s oldest friend and literally devoted his life to him, but he’s also his own man and did not need to copy XQ.  He never wanted to be him, he only wanted to serve him. 

If you didn’t pay attention, you wouldn’t be able to tell who’s who.

When you follow a brave, honorable general who’s sex on legs, you too will be a brave, honorable and sexy general.  Song Huaien never looked better than when he tried to emulate Xiao Qi.

Interestingly, when Song Huaien goes off with Awu and starts to fall for her, he also starts to incorporate some color into his previously all-black wardrobe.  I guess spring arrived in his heart even though it was the cold winter:

Hm, now I’m starting to wonder if a part of his crush on Awu wasn’t influenced by his desire to be like XQ a little bit.  And then, sigh, he starts to get tempted by the riches of the capital city and the internal shift in his character is materialized externally through how he wears his hair in his first appearance in court:

This is the first time we’ve seen him wear his hair in any style other than the usual loose half bun.  And of course, his top knot conforms and fits in with how the rest of the ministers wear their hair.  Now contrast that with Xiao Qi who only wore his hair in a top knot once:

and then promptly went back to his usual hair style:

Sure, he looked good with the top knot (when does he never look good), but it wasn’t him.  Unlike Song Huaien, XQ is secure in himself and knows who he is.  He is not easily swayed or corrupted.  That is why he is able to remain just like how he always has been, internally and externally.

The next change we see in Song’s appearance is his armor.  Now that he is Count Suyi, his armor is noticeably more ornate.  Unlike XQ’s armor, which remains pretty much the same barebones armor we’ve seen since the beginning, Song’s gets fancier and fancier as he gets more lured in by the nicer things in life.

At this point, his hair is still down like before.  But then the next time we see him after his wedding, his hair style is changed into a high ponytail:

Which is a very good look, don’t get me wrong, but it is again another physical representation of the change happening in Song internally.  It’s kind of a weird limbo he’s in because it’s not completely a top knot, but it’s definitely neater and closer to a top knot than his previous hairstyle.  At this stage, Song hasn’t completely crossed over to the dark side quite yet.  He’s still kind of wavering and going back and forth.  So a high ponytail that is a shift from his prior hairstyle but not quite the same as the nobles’ hairstyle makes sense.  He keeps this look for a while and even momentarily goes back to his less fancy self while dealing with the floods away from the capital.  That is, until he joins hands (or is it roots?) with Turnip and it’s all downhill from there, character-wise and also appearance-wise.

First, we have this very ill-advised mustache and goatee which mimics the same facial hair Turnip all of sudden started sporting:

Matching facial hair to commemorate their entry onto the shit list, perhaps?  Anyway, turns out facial hair isn’t for everyone, including Song Huaien.  But this isn’t even the worst of it.  As Song Huaien continues his descent into being a greedy, spineless, puppet for Turnip (HIM of all people! or should I say, of all root vegetables?), he gets uglier and uglier.  I mean:

He looks downright haggard and as if he aged 20 years overnight.  Notably though, he looks exactly like the rest of the useless ministers in court.  He has definitely lost the sheen, vigor, and hotness that he once had when he was following XQ.  It’s as if the ugly inside is reflected on the outside as well.

I guess when you follow a weaselly coward like Turnip, you too will turn into a weaselly coward.  Oh Song Huaien, Song Huaien.  What a disappointment you turned out to be, you dumb, greedy bastard.   

[n0wornever]

Hazy - College!Reggie x Reader

In which the reader has feelings for either reggie or luke, and one day goes withe the guys to a bar, gets drunk and winds up accidentally telling him the truth?

Her internship was going to be the death of her. On the surface, working at a recording studio sounded like a dream. However, this dream actually ended up being a lot of formatting spreadsheets and scheduling office tours for 8 hours a day, three days a week. 

As she left the office again, she took her heels off and held them in her hands. She walked down the street to her car, throwing the shoes in the back seat. She pulled on her sneakers and put her key in the ignition. As she pulled out of the lot, she pressed the radio on. Opening her sunroof, she smiled as she realized that she’d left her friend’s demo in the cd player. She turned up the volume as she cruised down the road. 

As she approached her dorm, she saw a familiar figure sitting outside the front door. She laid on the horn as she drove past him. Reggie jumped up into the air, a frown appearing as his eyes landed on her car. 

“Hi to you too, Y/N,” He said with a smirk. 

“Happy hour?” She asked, unlocking her doors. 

He nodded, lightly jogging over to her car. As soon as he got in he heard his voice. He rolled his eyes and turned down the volume. 

“You don’t need to constantly listen to our music, ya know?” His eyebrow raised at her as she drove. 

“Maybe I just like it, Reginald?” She caught his smirk out of the corner of her eye. 

She pulled into the old Mexican restaurant they spent many Friday nights in and she could already feel the margarita salt on her tongue. He walked in front of her, rushing to the door to hold it open. She let a small smile grace her lips as she walked under his arm. 

They sat at their usual table, the waiter not even bothering with giving them menus as he smiled at them.

“Two strawberry margaritas, chips and queso and two chicken tacos, yeah?” He asked, eyes directed at Reggie. 

The boy nodded and the waiter left the two alone. Y/N let her face rest in her hands as she looked over at her best friend across the table. He scrunched his nose in response. 

“How was your day, Reg?”

“Luke was late to rehearsal, so we ran longer than expect and I was late to a lecture, so it started out great,” She giggled as he rambled on. “And then, to my surprise, I had a history quiz today that I was not prepared for so....”

As he was finishing, their drinks landed on the table in front of them. 

“Perfect timing,” Reggie sighed, taking a large sip of the fruity drink. 

Y/N followed suit, placing her straw in the fishbowl, eyeing him as he gulped his down.

“So, not a great Friday, huh?”

He shook his head as he came up for air and she giggled at his face as it began to heat under the alcohol. Their food arrived and they ate quickly. As Y/N asked for the check, Reggie pulled out his phone. 

“Luke and Alex want to know if we want to go to Kip’s tonight,” He met her gaze. “You down?” 

She nodded as she placed a taco in her to-go case. “Yeah, so down, I think I’ve looked at Microsoft Excel so much this week that I may implode if I don’t get at least a little tipsy tonight.”

“A little tipsy, right,” Reggie shook his head at her. 

“What, Reg? What does that mean?”

He grabbed her keys and started to stand up. She followed behind him, the stern look on her face never leaving.

“I mean that the last time we went out, I had to carry you up to your bedroom after you said you were only going to have ‘a few drinks.’“ 

She scoffed at him, getting into the passenger side of her car. 

“That was once-”

“Yeah maybe once a week for the past year.” 

She slapped his arm repeatedly with her hand. He simply laughed at her aggression and put the car in drive. She tried to continue the conversation, but Reggie simply turned up the music, tapping to the beat on the steering wheel. 

They turned into the lot in front of Luke and Alex’s apartment. The two boys already sat in front of the building waiting for them. Reggie honked to get their attention and they filed into her back seat. Luke leaned up on her seat, smiling close to her face. 

“Y/N, you sure you want to go out. You do remember what happened last time...” 

She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “Must you all taunt me with this memory?!”

All the boys started laughing as she crossed her arms at her chest and slid down in her seat, pouting. 

“Can we at least stop at my place so I can get ready?”

“Already on it, babe,” Reggie smiled.

The boys filed out of the car, running up her apartment complex stairs. She tried to avoid all the stares that people were leaving as they chased each other up and down the hallway. Finally reaching her door, the three calmed down and found their respective seats on her couch. 

She walked into her closet and looked up and down the rack. She had no idea what to wear tonight. She pulled out a little black dress she hadn’t worn in months and held it up on her body, looking in her mirror.

“Reg will love that one.”

Her head turned toward the doorway where Luke was staring at her with a goofy smile spread across his face. Y/N shooed his eyes away, but placed the dress on the bed for further deliberation. 

She didn’t respond to the boy as he approached her bed, sitting down on the edge of it.

“Come onnn, you two can’t hide this forever.” 

She gave him a pointed look “Hide what?”

His jaw locked in frustration as he shook his head at her. He simply got off of her bed and walked toward her door without another word. 

Y/N sighed, moving back toward her bathroom to do her makeup. As she put the finishing touches on her blush, Reggie appeared in the mirror next to her, smiling at her reflection.

“You almost ready? Luke’s going to pass away from boredom if we don’t leave soon.”

She nodded, rubbing the soft brush against her cheek. “Yeah, almost ready, I just have to change and I’ll be out there.” 

He nodded as he left the room. She walked back out to her bed and eyed the dress for another moment before slipping it over her head. A bit tighter than she remembered, but it worked.  

“Are you boys ready to go?” She said, looking at all of them staring at their phones in front of her. 

Luke and Alex nodded, Reggie sat still for a moment as he eyed her outfit. She felt her cheeks getting redder under his gaze, and turned away to grab her purse off the table. She grabbed her keys and headed for the door, hearing feet shuffling behind her. 

As they entered Kip’s, the haze of early smoke hung in the air. Y/N made a beeline for the bar with her ID already in her hand. 

“Can I get a vodka soda?” She asked the bartender

“And a water,” Reggie said as he appeared next to her. 

He shot a wink in her direction and she scowled back at him. The three ordered their beers and the group looked for a table. Spotting a booth in the corner, Y/N hobbled on her heels to grab it. The boy were cackling as they caught up to her.

“You looked light you were one step from toppling over, and you haven’t even drank anything yet,” Alex said with a smile

She rolled her eyes, pressing her glass to her mouth as she listened to the boys talk about their upcoming gig, taking large sips of her drink. Eventually, Luke got up for another beer.

“You need another one, Y/N?” 

She nodded and the boy lightly jogged over to the bar. Her eyes met Reggie’s and his lips drew back to a slight smile. 

“We’re boring you...”

“No, Reg, it’s fine..”

Alex nodded “Yes, we are boring you. We’ll stop with the band talk.”

“Guys, I want to work in the music industry, this is interesting to me I swear.”

They exchanged a look before both boys rolled their eyes at her. Before they could speak again, Luke dropped another glass in front of her. The placed the small straw in her mouth as the guitarist started to ramble again.

As Luke talked, Y/N tried to keep her focus as the room around her grew a bit disjointed. Her eyes felt heavy and the music was throbbing in her ears. Finally a girl from across the room swayed him away from the table and it went quiet. She heard Alex’s giggle and looked up from her cup.

“You good, Y/N.” 

“Peachy,” She smiled lazily, the word slurring as soon as it fell from her mouth. 

Alex turned to Reggie, pointing at the bar. “I’m going to grab her a water.” 

Reggie nodded, turning his direction toward her as the drummer ran up to the bar. His smile widened as he watched her spin her straw around the the melting ice cubes in her glad.

“Hanging in there, champ?” 

“Huh,” She said, head in her hand as her gaze migrated over to him. “Oh yeah, I’m good...just sleepy.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

She heard him giggle and met his eyes with a small smile, sticking out her tongue at him. Alex returned with water and sat it in front of her. She took a sip before returning to her slumped position. 

A familiar face entered the bar and Alex’s eyes lit up immediately. She turned to see a long-haired skater walking toward their table. 

“Go!” Y/N yelled a little too loudly, slapping her hands on the table.

Alex smirked as he got up and walked over to Willie. Y/N smiled after them, turning back toward the table with a pout. Reggie’s brows pulled to the middle of his face. 

“What’s up?” 

She looked over at him and shook her head. 

“Nothing,” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand “I think I may head out soon.”

“Cool, I’ll drive you home.” He slid her keys out from under her hand. 

“Reg, you don’t have to-” 

“Let’s go!” 

He grabbed onto her arm, lifting her up out of her seat. She stumbled in his arms as they walked out the door. They stepped out into the cool air, and Y/N leaned heavily on Reggie’s side as the made their way to the parking lot. He guided her into her seat before running over to the driver’s side. 

As they drove out of the parking lot, Y/N let her eyes fix on him with a small smile on her face. He caught her gaze out of the corner of his eye and smirked. 

“What, Y/N?” 

“Nothinggg,” She sighed, leaning back on the head rest and closing her eyes. 

Before she knew it, her shoulders were being pushed side to side. She opened her eyes and found Reggie next to her, lightly waking her up. 

“I didn’t want to wake you, but I didn’t want to scare you by having you panic in someone’s arms in the middle of the hallway,” he grinned, holding his hands out to her. 

Her legs felt like jello as they hit the concrete, falling side to side until Reggie grabbed her waist to stabilize her.

“Hang on,” He said, placing her arms around his neck.

He brought her up into his arms and moved toward the door. He carried her up three flights of stairs to her room. He placed her back on her feet at the door and handed her her key. As he turned to leave, she grabbed onto his forearm.

“You should stay,” She whispered.

He looked at her confused, watching as her hand slid down his arm, grabbing his hand in hers. He nodded, following her inside. 

He filled two glasses with water, bringing them to the living room table as she ran to change into her pajamas. When she reemerged, Reggie was leaning back on the couch staring out at the sky. She walked over to him, bringing her arms around him and leaning her chin on his shoulder. He turned quickly, flashing her a smile before turning around. He brought his arm around her shoulders and she readjusted, letting her head fall on his chest. 

“Reggie, I have a question for you.” 

“Okay...” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at her. 

She tilted her head to side as she stared at him, eyes wandering over his face for a moment. 

“Why are you still single?”

He giggled, his brows pulling to the middle of his face in confusion. 

“I don’t know Y/N, why do you ask?”

“Because it makes no sense to me, you’re so sweet and kind and attractive,” His cheeks flushed pink as her hand grazed his cheek. “You’re a catch.” 

“I... you’re drunk and tired. You should go to bed.” 

“Reg, I’m drunk but not stupid.” 

He stayed silent for a moment before grabbing her hand and walking her toward her bedroom. He helped her get under the covers before turning off her light. As he stepped out into the hallway, he ran a hand through his hair. 

What the hell just happened? 

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Tag list: @marinettepotterandplagg  @lukeys-giggle @joshy-obx @epikskool @daisiesforlacey @bestdressedandstressed @txrii @musicconversedance @dasexydevitt13 @bathtimejish @xplrreylo @lovesanimals @kiss-themoongoodbye @fangirlangioma @hemmingsness @lolychu @bookdealer5 @whatever-happens-imma-stand-tall @calamitykaty @writerinlearning​ 

[pixiebuggiewrites]

Sorry Wrong Number!

Masterpost - Previous - Next - Ao3 link

Chapter 6: A pleasant morning, a slightly less pleasant midday

Despite how late she returned home the night prior, Marinette was pleasantly surprised to find that she hardly overslept. That makes two days in a row now, the girl was on a roll. That or all of the late night akumas had finally made her a permanently light sleeper. Either way she was glad for her newfound semi-punctuality, especially given the busy day she had ahead of herself.

Her to-do list for the day, while short, was fairly time consuming. First she needed to head to the fabric shop to get the supplies for her most recent batch of commissions, then she needed to meet up with Alya (who she was so not looking forward to dealing with) so that they could get started on their english project, and after that she needs to interview the previous nights akuma victim for their case file.

Which reminds her that she should check and see if Chloe ever responded to her text. Opening up her messaging app, she’s greeted with two texts. The first is from the number she texted last night, the one that has turned out to be the number of someone who is very much not Chloe. Marinette was all of a sudden very grateful for the code that her and her team had come up with for any messages regarding hero work. Hopefully she could just thank the unknown number for alerting her of the mistake and leave it at that.

The second message was what had her worried though. This one actually was from Chloe, and the contents of the text were a bit concerning.

(XXX)XXX-XXXX: Hey DC it’s Chloe can you call me when you get a chance? I kindasortafuckedupreallybadlydidsomethingstupid

Now Marinette was sure that whatever Chloe had done couldn't have actually been that bad, so that wasn't why she was worried. No, she was worried about her blonde friends current emotional state. Chloe had come a long way from her 13 year old self, but she did still have insecurity issues on occasion. Judging by her text, the blonde was panicking, likely in an anxiety spiral. Something that she too was well known for doing, she would call the heiress as soon as possible to make sure that she was okay before saying anything to her about Mayuras return.

Anyways, it’s not like there was much she could do about it until later in the day, seeing as it was currently around 4 am in Gotham. So instead, the young designer focused on getting ready for the day ahead of her.

After some deliberation with input from the kwami’s, she settled on a nice outfit. The ensemble starred a black pinafore with subtle floral embroidery, paired with a light pink long sleeve underneath, both items of course being MDC originals. Shoe-wise she kept things fairly simple with a pair of black high top sneakers and white knee-high socks. Deciding to keep her hair down today, all that was left was choosing which kwami to bring along with her.

Tikki of course was a given, but she typically rotated out wearing a secondary miraculous so that the kwami could get to experience the outside world, even if it was from Marinette's purse.

Hmm today seemed to be a good day for Kaalki. It had been awhile since the horse kwami’s last voyage out of Marinette's room, plus they would be going to a cafe which meant free sugar cubes. While Kaalki would not be pleased about the ‘free’ part, Marinette's wallet sure would. She may run an extremely successful business for her age but kwami food sure does add up to eat a decent chunk of her budget. So yeah, free sugar cubes it is.

After slipping on the magical glasses and getting the two kwami into her purse, she was finally ready for the day, and so made her way downstairs to the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

“Good morning!” she greeted her Maman, who was serving customers at the register. The bakery was already quite busy, seeing as it was a Saturday afterall.

“Good morning sweetie, any exciting plans for today?” Her Mother inquired between customers.

“Not really, just have to pick up some fabrics and work on that english project.” She sort of left out who exactly she was working on said project with, but she really didn't want to risk having to dodge the question of why Alya never came around anymore. Luckily her Maman just nodded.

“Oh by the way, Jagged and Penny are coming over for dinner tonight, so make sure not to be home too late.” 

Well that made for a slight change of plans, she would just have to interview the akuma victim during her patrol instead of during the evening beforehand. Not a big deal, but it was slightly inconvenient, even if she did enjoy seeing her Aunt and Uncle with their busy schedule.

“Of course, i’m going to head out now, can you tell papa I said hi next time he comes out of the kitchen?”

“Will do, oh and Marinette?”

“Yes Maman?”

“Don't forget to grab breakfast.” Her Mother smiled and went back to serving customers.

Smiling back, Marinette grabbed a fruit tart and made her way to the fabric shop.

                                                        ----------

Luckily the fabric shop wasn't that busy, and Marinette was able to drop her supplies back home with enough time leftover to get to the cafe early. After finding a good table to set her things up at, she decides to go ahead and order an iced coffee to drink while waiting for Alya. Due to all of her time spent with Master Fu she was typically more of a tea drinker, but to get through this she would likely need the extra bit of caffeine coffee would provide.

Roughly ten minutes later, Alya walked through the door of the cafe. Time to get this over with.

While her former best friend didn't usually take much of an active role in the bullying Marinette had been experiencing at the hands of her classmates, she definitely encouraged a lot of it. Hopefully the fact that they were meeting out of the classroom meant that they could start on the project without any incident.

And for the most part it did. Despite the awkward tension between the two they managed to delegate who did what, with Alya doing the research portion and Marinette assembling the presentation itself.

Just as Marinette was about to leave though, Alya stopped her.

“Hey… have you noticed anything different about Adrien lately? Nino says he’s been acting strange and we’re all a bit worried about him.” The glasses girl inquired while putting away her things.

Well that caught her attention.

“Strange how?” She honestly didn't really care about whatever drama was currently happening in her old friend group, but on the off chance that he was experiencing side effects of the memory wipe spell, she needed to know so she could fix it. Magical backlash was no joke, despite her dislike of the blonde he didn't deserve having to deal with the effects of a spell gone wrong.

“He’s just been distant lately, almost like he’s been avoiding us. You didn't say something about Lila to him again did you? I know you're into him but just because Lila does too doesn't mean-” 

‘Ah so that's what this is about, I walked right into that one huh’

“Alya.” She cut the wannabe reporter off “I haven't had feelings for Adrien in years. I also have no idea why he’s avoiding you guys or why you assume I had anything to do with it. If you want to know so badly, try talking to him yourself.” She got up from her seat “If that’s all, I’ll be going now.” And with that, Marinette began heading home, looking forward to having dinner with her honorary uncle and aunt in a few hours.

But before that, she had a couple of text messages to take care of.

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Taglist (open!!):

@queencommonsense @toodaloo-kangaroo @nickristus-dreamer @savagenutella46 @solangelo252 @adrestar @crazylittlemunchkin

[ajokeformur-ray]

~ Self-shipping ask game: Dracika🦇🩸 // Ashika🪓💙 ~

I asked @mutatedcrocuta​ for permission to use her self-ship questions and she very graciously agreed! Thank youuuu ~ 💜💜💜

Overall word count: 7, 664.

Dracula x Erika (Dracika) 🖤🩸🖤

Word count: 3, 179.

Date you got together? We met in September but we didn’t get together until November 14th 2020. I was scared of him until the middle of October and then it took some more time after that for me to work out what I wanted between the two of us. Dracula somehow knew what was going to happen and whenever I asked him to tell me, he would just smirk at me. He never said anything and he waited for me to make my own decisions on everything. Once I realised what I wanted, neither of us really... announced the relationship. It was just a... shall we try this? vibe which we both agreed to and we have yet to change our minds!

Favourite personality trait? His courage. My sweet vampire was terrified for 500 years about something which was never a threat to him in the first place. He spent all that time alone and afraid for no reason because he was always too afraid to test the things he thought he knew. I really admire his bravery, and as someone who’s scared of something very similar, I find that I can be just a little braver in my own fear, knowing that Dracula understands me on that basic level. Our fear brought us together and through that, we found love. He’s afraid of the light and I’m afraid of the dark and I don’t know about you, but that says “soulmates” to me!🥰💗

Favourite physical trait? Ohhhhh.... his eyes. His beautiful eyes which are so dark they’re like black coffee. Onyx, perhaps. They can be so soft when he’s talking to someone or they can be cold and calculating. When he smiles, they melt into pools of warm chocolate and I similarly melt when I look into his eyes. I also love that damned smirk. When he knows he’s five steps ahead of everyone in the room or when he suspects something which later turns out to be true... his smirk makes me feel weak in the knees even when I’m sitting down.

Couple song We don’t have a couple song. There’s not really... anything out there which I’ve found to resonate with the both of us. Like A Vampire by Catrien Maxwell is one I listen to when I want his attention, though, and it works like a charm! “So how does a vampire love, Erika?” was what Dracula said the first time I played it around him. I said, “I don’t know... why don’t you show me?” and... I’ll let his display be up to your imagination.😉

Pet peeves... Mine is when he feeds off someone. And leaves them to bleed out. On the floor. Like??? I just cleaned the carpet out from the last person who bled all over the floor. It’s irritating. Just like when he then flashes me that smirk and he’s got blood all over his chin, lips and lower part of his face like??? That’s your food, close your damn mouth. Are you five hundred or just five? 😂 I find it funny but also annoying; depends on my mood. Will I clean his face off, though, and leave a tender kiss on the tip of his nose? Oh, yeah! My vampire deserves love.🥺

Dracula’s is how jumpy I am. It irritates him to no end. He has long since stopped saying, “sorry, didn’t mean to startle you” and now I tend to get either an eye roll, a patient smirk or a, “you knew I was there, Erika”. It depends on his  mood, but the one time he genuinely made me scared and it upset me, he was quick to apologise to me and he learned very quickly how to avoid doing that in the future. We’ve had to learn many a thing from each other in a short amount of time for things between us to be able to work.

Favourite outfit on them?

Picture source

He just looks... so warm and inviting but also so dangerous. There’s an obvious wall between himself and everyone else and I love the way he carries himself! It makes me want to sit on his lap, curl up and go to sleep asdfghjk🥺 and that hair.... the urge to mess it up is strong skkssk😂 I value my life, though, so I won’t... yet.😏 Dracula’s appearance is just so safe to me and he makes me smile just to see him, no matter what he’s wearing.

Favourite meal? Blood, obviously. Dracula has never drank from me. I’ve said he can many a time but “No. Not that. Not to you. You’re... too special a flavour, Erika. I wouldn’t dare to sample it. You’re exquisite.” is all I get every time I offer myself up to him. Maybe one day he’ll agree but for now, he’s more than happy to continue feeding off others. He’s careful with what he eats. I’m not, though, which may be why he won’t feed off me.😂

Early bird or night owl? Dracula’s nocturnal so our days and nights are reversed. As I get into bed, my darling vampire is just waking up. This means that I get goodnight cuddles and he gets good morning cuddles at the same time! It works well for us both and if I’m very lucky (or just really clingy or upset), he’ll stay with me for a little longer and eat into his day! He says “I love you” in his own ways and I’ve learned to hear them.

Snorer or sleep talker? Dracula doesn’t do either of these. If I get into bed too roughly and jostle him, he’ll hiss in his sleep but that’s about it. Me, on the other hand? Certified chainsaw snorer!😂

Do you have any pets together? We don’t! Dracula feeds off animals when there’s no humans around and my worst fear is coming downstairs in the morning to find that he’s fed on my animals in the night because his baser instincts took over and he couldn’t stop himself. I would never forgive him or myself if that happened, so no pets!

Pet names! (Both from them and yours for them)

I call him: Drac, Draccy, Draccy boi (he hates this one so I only do it when I’m deliberately trying to wind him up because those fangs, I - 🥵), my Drac, my vampire, my sweet vampire... my love, honey, Dracula if He’s In Trouble! 

He calls me: luna bella (beautiful moon), my dear, my love, Erika if I’m In Trouble. Dracula’s not really one for pet names. He says what he says and that’s it. 

How often do you fight? Never. We don’t ever fight. If there’s ever a line I’m about to cross, he will say my name very calmly and very quietly and the chill which runs up my spine is enough to keep me from crossing that line. With Dracula, he knows that if I ignore him, he’s close to crossing a line. We have warnings for each other, and that’s it. No fights. I can’t handle it and Dracula’s too old for that.

What starts fights? We don’t fight as I said, but those lines... for Dracula, those lines are insisting he drinks from me and refusing to back down on it (I did it once, in the early days, before I understood who he was properly), or when I won’t take care of myself in the way he thinks I should be. It’ll get me full-named with his chin dipped so that the shadows around him emphasise the lines of his face, and I’ll shiver and I’ll know I’m in trouble... so I’ll rectify it in the ways I know he wants me to, and then a hand will be laid on my shoulder so I know all’s forgiven. All it takes is my name spoken in a certain tone and he’s got me in the palm of his hand. But I’m safe, even then.

For me, I don’t have many lines at all but one of them is when I come home in the middle of the day or when I wake up and just walking through the house and then I trip over a body. Like, for fuck’s sake, Drac, do your dishes.😂 I don’t make a big deal out of it usually but once there were five or six bodies in one room because he’d gorged himself and I got pissed off because they were in my way and obviously I couldn’t get rid of them myself. So when he greeted me that morning I said nothing to him and I continued to say nothing until he’d gotten rid of his victims. He never sees what the big deal is, but I do.

We may not fight but we definitely have our differences!

Who apologizes first? We each apologise when we need to. If Drac crossed a line, he’ll apologise first. If I crossed a line, I’ll apologise first. It depends on who was in the wrong. Sometimes Dracula will give me a certain look and I’ll just instinctively say ‘sorry’. He doesn’t necessarily understand these moments, though, and he’ll ask me why I apologised and I’ll just say that I felt like I needed to because of the look he gave me. Dracula will frown but then he’ll crook a finger at me and I’ll be brought in for a hug. “You silly little thing. You never have to apologise to me. Not for anything. Do you understand?” and I try. I really do try.

Big spoon or little spoon? Dracula’s always the big spoon. If his back is to the door when I come to bed (he’s just waking up), then he will turn so that he’s spooning me because I sleep facing the door so I can see the room around me. Even with my lamp, I’m still wary and scared. I tried to have Drac as the little spoon once and within minutes we switched positions because he couldn’t stop chuckling at the seven inch height difference. I just... get to melt into him and he protects me. No harm will come to me when Dracula’s there and he loves the way he can fold me into him and keep me safe.

Dom or sub? Dracula’s the dom, definitely. The power he has is obvious and we’ll never truly be equal, not really... I mean, he’s five hundred years old and I’m twenty-three... I’ve been alive for the blink of an eye compared to his lengthy existence. I am definitely my own person and I have my own life but there’s an equality imbalance which we’re both aware of. He never plays on it, though. I trust him to not ever do that to me, and Dracula respects me too much for that. Other people are fair game in his eyes, but me? I’m his so that means I’m always under his protection.

What are their kisses like? “The kiss of a vampire is an opiate” as Drac states in episode two. So he can take me anywhere with just one kiss. He can make me feel sleepy, awake, aroused, in control... scared... He can make me feel anything when he kiss and most times he makes me feel relaxed, safe and he makes me feel his love for me. If I have trouble sleeping or if I’ve had a nightmare, he’ll kiss me and the next thing I know it’s morning and I slept solidly. During the times I doubt our relationship, he will kiss me and I feel all of his love for me. His kisses are fire but it’s... like basking in the sunlight. It’s passion, it’s love, it’s security... he kisses me like I’m the only one for him, like I’m the only one who’s ever gotten so close to him. He kisses me like he’ll die if he doesn’t and yet he’s in control the entire time. Whenever he pulls away from me, there’s a smirk on his face and the hands on my waist aren’t just to keep me close, but to hold me up, too... on some occasions he’s had to scoop me up to sit me down somewhere because I’ve gotten lost in the state he put me in. 

What do they smell like? Ohhh... he smells like... Dracula. That’s so cliché, but his name is as good a descriptor as any. He smells like cedarwood, like spiced pear and there’s a metallic tang about him... blood. He smells dark and foreboding, but also safe. I would know his scent anywhere. Sometimes when I’m off doing my own thing during the day, I suddenly catch a scent on the wind and I know he’s with me. 

What are their hugs like? To begin with, I hugged Dracula. I was never held back. I never received one from him. If I wanted one, I had to start it and I would have to finish it, too. He would just stand there and endure it. But then one day I dropped a knife and it landed on my foot and somehow I avoided stabbing myself. I wasn’t injured but Dracula scooped me up and carried me away from the knife... but he didn’t put me down right away. He stood there and he held me in his arms like I was precious cargo (I was, I know now), and when he set me down, he said that he liked “this thing you mortals call a hug” and now when he hugs me it’s with everything he has in that moment. He almost folds himself in half and his scent becomes all I can smell. He doesn’t breathe and he’s got no heartbeat so it’s quiet and it’s still and it’s warm... most often I become sleepy when he hugs me because I just relax. It’s like magic.

Who is more protective? We protect each other. In the day time, I protect him and in the night time, he protects me. We fear opposite ends of the same thing and there’s a lot of understanding and compassion in that. We’re equally protective of each other. In the day, I keep curtains closed especially if it’s sunny outside, I make sure that Dracula has places he can go and I make sure that he has food if he needs it. If anyone dares to disturb his peace within our home, I will step in. Curtains stay shut. Rooms are safe. And then at night... lights are turned on. Shadows are eliminated and Dracula stays close by. We give a part of our days to each other and in this way do we stay close to one emotionally. In our fears are we equal and through this, we found love.

Interested in children? To Dracula, “talk of children sounds like a miracle” but I would rather eat my own foot, toenails included, than have kids and he knows it.

Who needs the most TLC when sick? If either of us gets sick, then the other person gives them every amount of care which we can. Dracula only gets sick if he consumes blood which isn’t good; if someone’s dying or if they’re sick, then he gets sick. It’s very rare but he’ll expel it from his body all at once and then collapse. I clean his face, get him somewhere he can rest, and i stay by his side until he wakes up hours later. I hate it when he gets ill and thankfully it’s very rare because of how carefully he picks his food. When I get sick, which is also rare because, despite having an autoimmune disease I have a very strong immune system (yeah, I can’t work that out either), Dracula’s almost overbearing. He gets me everything I need and he is everything I need until I get better and he stays by my side through it all. Dracula and I do everything we can for each other at all times. It’s a part of our love language.

Who says ‘I love you’ first? This was also me. Dracula knew the entire time, from the day we met, what would happen between us, but he never said anything. He just... he waited. He waited for my nightmares to stop, he waited for me to approach him with increasing frequency, he waited for me to be brave enough to approach him... Dracula waited. About two months after we first met, I realised that I loved him. I invited him into my bed for the first time that night and I asked him to cuddle with me and he chuckled at me. He came into my bed, “well, this is a surprise.” and I grinned because... just wait ‘til I said what I wanted to say. So I did... I told him. He froze and then his entire body relaxed. He said, “finally.” and that was that.

Which of you is more accident prone? Definitely me!!!! I have a shitty centre of balance and honestly a lack of self-preservation so I’m constantly bumping into tables, walking into doors, tripping up or down the stairs... Dracula usually just laughs or smirks or otherwise ignores me because he’s so used to it but very occasionally I’ll actually do something which may well hurt me, and he will catch me with a shake of his head. “Careful, Erika. I won’t always be around to catch you, hm?” He’s lying. He will be. 

Bed hog? Also me! Dracula tends to just lay on his back with his arms by his sides and if there’s not enough room for me beside him, I will lay on top of him and he won’t be able to move me. I sleep like the dead and I wake like them, too. As I go to bed, he’s just waking up so he usually ends up getting up later than he planned to because he had to coax himself out from underneath me.😂 I don’t make it easy on him, and why should I? I want my cuddles and I’ll get them whether he likes it or not. He does, though, he loves the way I love him, and he just pretends he doesn’t because he doesn’t like to admit his own heart. But I can sense it - his love language is a loud one and I quickly became proficient in speaking it.

Who loves the other the most? Me. Without a doubt, I love Dracula far more than he could ever love me. I’ve never been able to work out why he’s with me but I suppose it’s because we’re safe and understood in our fears by the other person and we’re teaching each other to be brave. He is capable of love, I know he is, but I think Dracula’s beyond that. When he loves, it’s beyond description or any kind of labels mortals could come up with. He’s fond of me, incredibly so, and I think that’s as far as it goes. That’s okay, though! It means the world to even know him.

Ash Williams x Erika (Ashika)🪓💙

I’ve used a GIF of young!Ash (mid-twenties) and then a GIF of Ash in 2015 (57-ish) because Bruce Campbell’s aged like a fine wine and omgggg ~ 🥵🥵 I just love him (Ash and Bruce lmao)🧡. 

Word count: 4, 485.

Date you got together? Ash is my newest F/O even though I’ve known him since I was about eleven. We got together on the 10th December 2020. I was watching season two of the TV series and it just slammed into me how badly I wanted to protect him and how much I wanted to love him and give him the life he should have had. I asked Ash “how about it?” and he quirked an eyebrow and said, “let’s go”.🥰💗 I’ve known him for such a long time and I’ve always thought that there was more to him than I was able to understand when I was so young but I’m in a place now where I’m able to better understand him and I’m excited to dive into him and see where we go! I wish I could be with Ash for his whole life; from when he first goes to the cabin, helping him with the trauma after, then everything in the next thirty years and beyond. I love my Ashy🥺💖

Favourite personality trait? I looooooove ~ Ash’s ���shoot first think never” motto. It’s his entire mentality and it means to just do it, to be in the moment. It’s also a literal motto, as in to shoot Deadites without thinking about it, but I appreciate the deeper meaning of it, too. I also love his courage and his bravery. He never wanted to be a Deadite killer, he never wanted to have to fight them for the rest of his life, but he does it and it’s honestly the only thing he’s good at. He’s shit at everything except fighting evil and he gives it his all and I love that about him. Ash really inspires me in a lot of ways. He thinks that’s ridiculous but that’s his tough-guy exterior. I know that he’s touched and just doesn’t know how to say it. So he’ll show me, instead, and if I’m not paying attention then I’ll miss it. he has a quiet and subtle love language and I’m quickly learning to speak it.

Favourite physical trait? Can I just say his everything??? I love everything about Ash🥺🥺🥺🥺 I do have a soft spot for his chainsaw hand, though. The noise it makes when he fires it up makes me smile; it’s so familiar to me. I like to kiss the stump of his hand when it’s just the two of us in his trailer; he went through literal hell and the strength it must have taken, physically and otherwise, to saw off his own hand is just... I could never be that brave. I try to be as gentle with him as I can be and I like to love on the parts of him no one else sees because I’m the only one to see them. There’s nothing about Ash I don’t love. Keep this last sentence in mind when you read the pet peeves section!

Couple song Back In Black by ACϟDC ... he plays this song in the Delta and we jam out together. It’s a light-hearted and simple moment between the two of us and let’s be fair, nothing hits like 70/80s metal. He and I don’t really have a set song, we just... listen to whatever’s in his player and make light-hearted memories from that which will get us through the worst of everything. Sometimes I’ll just ask Ash to sing with no music playing. He’s tone deaf but the sound of his voice alone is more melodious and comforting to me than the songs he likes to play.

Pet peeves... 

Mine is that, honestly, Ash is kind of gross and I say that with so much love. He leaves his beer cans everywhere, he leaves his recreational baggies of drugs everywhere and there’s some questionably crusty socks on our floor which I am not picking up no matter how many times he waggles his eyebrows at me. He leaves dishes to pile high up in the sink and then asks me to do them for him “as a favour” while he’s at work (even though I have my own things to do🙄). He’s stuck in the 80s as far as his attitudes go and that does irritate me. He knows it and he thinks it’s hot when I get riled up... I’m 99% sure he says this stuff just to annoy me. I’ll do the dishes no matter what I say in the moment and he knows it. I can’t stand having food left out, especially in summer, and I have a phobia of sickness as well as health anxieties so whenever Ash comes home and I’ve already cleaned the kitchen part of the trailer, made our bed (and left those socks on the floor, thank you. I have limits to what I’ll do),  fed Eli and now I’m at the kitchen table studying or writing, Ash makes sure to say thank you. He feels bad about it because we both know he would have done the dishes if I hadn’t, but I have a guilt complex on top of my fears and if someone asks me to do something I’ll do it even if I don’t want to because I feel bad for saying no. 

“Ah, Erika, you didn’t have to do that, I was gonna do ‘em later on.”

“It’s fine, Ash, they’re done now.”

Ash will kiss the top of my head and then he’ll come and sit beside me, keeping me company while I do whatever I’m doing. I’ll get up automatically and crack him open a beer and I can see that Ash feels bad about the comments he made before he went to work, but he also knows that I would have gotten him a beer anyway. I want to take care of him and he’s been at work all day. In return, Ash will get up and make me a coffee even though I was also about to do that.

“Ash, you don’t need to - “

He’ll just give me a Look while he leans against the counter waiting for the kettle and I understand it’s his apology for what he said this morning (it’ll happen again tomorrow but that’s okay). Ash knows I really don’t mind doing the dishes, and I know that Ash never means for things to come across the way they can. The way I react to them is on me, not Ash. We do things for each other, it’s a part of our love language, and even though sometimes miscommunications like the above can happen, we still carry on with them because my traumas are mine and Ash’s are his and we work through them together.

Ash’s pet peeve is the way I put him before myself all the time. Sometimes he’ll come home and I’ve got a beer can ready in the fridge, dinner’s nearly done (he works late most days), the immediate chores are done and Ash will come in and I’m stressed out from all the work I’ve got to do because I took my time on stuff I did for him and left myself short. I say it’s fine but it’s not and we both know it. Ash will call me out every single time. 

“For god’s sake, Erika, you knew you had to do ___ today, why did’ya focus on me?” He genuinely doesn’t understand why I love him so much and it breaks my heart every single time. He’s had such a horrible life and I just want to soften those edges as best as I can and give him something else to fight for. Ash will sigh, crack open the beer, and then when dinner’s done, he does the dishes while I catch up on my work and even though he doesn’t understand any of what I’m doing, he’ll stay beside me and keep an arm around my shoulders or my waist and make his gratitude, appreciation and concern known.

Favourite outfit on them? His blue shirt/brown trousers combo. It’s the only thing he wears in the franchise and I adore it. I often ‘borrow’ (steal) his shirts to sleep in or otherwise relax in (I’m a baggy shirt and panties only girl) and Ash thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He’s 6′1 and I’m 5′7 so his shirts swim on me and I love that. So does Ash and it’s the quickest way to get him to... pay attention to me.😂

Favourite meal? Ash will eat anything. Usually tacos - he’d eat them every day of the week if I let him. With me having a wheat and gluten allergy and Ash not having any food allergies at all, the lucky bastard, it can be difficult but I always make Ash’s food first if it contains anything with wheat in it, and then I scrub the kitchen down and make my own. Ash says I should just make mine first and “I can worry about my own damn food”, but I consider that to be rude of me so I always do Ash’s first. It plays into the pet peeve thing and Ash is learning to just...let it go. 

Early bird or night owl? Poor Ash has been through so much trauma in his life that he suffers from PTSD and nightmares. He usually just gets high or blackout drunk (or both, on a really bad night) so that he can grab a few hours of sleep before his own screaming wakes him up. He sleeps when he can and usually just runs on naps around his shifts at S-Mart. He’s up all hours of the day and night and he just sleeps when he can. Ash isn’t an early bird or a night owl... he’s a permanently exhausted pigeon 😂 I’m a night owl, though, and most nights I’ll stay up with Ash for as long as I possibly can. Sometimes I fall asleep in his lap because I’m so tired and I’ll wake up a few hours later and Ash has draped his upper body over me so that I’m caged in and protected while he rests. That hurts his back, though, so I massage it for him when he wakes up because I really don’t wanna wake him up when he’s asleep unless I have to. When I do have to, it’s with lots of guilt and apologies because he sleeps so little as it is. If I could give Ash anything, it’d be the ability to truly sleep with ease. He deserves that at the very least.

Snorer or sleep talker? Ash is a sleep talker. He usually says stuff like, “no, come back”, “I didn’t mean to”, “please, come back - “ after a nightmare it’s usually with a scream or with the name of someone he’s lost on his lips and it’ll wake me up and I’ll do my best to soothe him. I’m a snorer, though. Ash did once rip his chainsaw to life while I was asleep because he was repairing the trailer outside and not only did I stay asleep (I sleep like the dead), but also he could hear me over his chainsaw. So I’m known as the Chainsaw Snorer and when he introduces me to people... that’s the name he uses.😂 Charming, isn’t he? In Elk Grove, Michigan, he’s known (horribly) as Ashy Slashy and it sounds quite fitting with Chainsaw Snorer...I’m not saying we’re meant for each other, buuuut ~ 🥺

Do you have any pets together? I help Ash out with his lizard, Eli, sometimes, but other than that; no pets! There’s not really room for them in the trailer and I have my hands full with Ash anyway.😂 

Pet names! (Both from them and yours for them)

Ash calls me anything - honey bunny (flirting), sweetcheeks (casual), hot piece of ass (that one gets him glared at and he’ll look away because he knows I don’t like being objectified. He’s only teasing but I still don’t like it), sweetheart (comfort), my delicious cookie (when he’s trying to wriggle out of doing the dishes. It makes us both cringe so I don’t know why he uses it), baby (comfort). My name is only used when he’s needing me or it’s Serious. It’s the quickest way to get my attention.

I don’t call Ash much - Ashy (comfort for either of us, depending on who needs it or when I miss him or when I’m super sleepy and therefore I have no filter). I’m unsure how he feels about Ashy because of how he’s known in his hometown but that’s why I call him “Ashy” - I took a name of fear and hate and turned it to love. He deserves that. Honey (casual), my love (casual), jefe (when we’re around Kelly and/or Pablo). I only call him Ashley (his full name) when I need him or it’s Serious. It’s the quickest way to get his attention.

How often do you fight? Rarely, if ever. Ash is very casual and chilled out about lots of things and he’ll just wave things off (though he’s quick to call out bullshit), and I can’t handle conflict of any kind at all. If tension is around, Ash will either go to work, the bar, or maybe even go for a drive in the Delta to give us both some space and I’ll shut myself in the bedroom and do some work. The trailer’s quite small so that can only add to the tension so most often we just go our separate ways until we’re calm enough to talk about anything which lingers. 

What starts fights? Not much. Tension usually arises after an encounter with some Deadites. If Ash got injured, then he needs to sit his ass down and let me tend to those injuries. I can be quite firm when I need to be, especially if I’m worried. Ash doesn’t get what the big deal is, he came home, didn’t he? But I’m so scared of losing him that that can show itself in anger even when I’m relieved that he’s home. It’s the same with Ash - he’s so scared of losing me. Literally everyone he’s ever loved has died right in front of him and he is terrified of losing me. I can and I will throw myself in his way so that I take a hit meant for Ash and nothing pisses him off faster. Both of us know that anger often hides pain, it’s a secondary emotion, so when this happens, we just... we patch each other up, we cuddle and we apologise and we comfort each other and the anger quickly dissipates into what it actually is: tender love and fear of losing each other. Once the anger’s out of the way, we can get to the “good stuff”, as Ash puts it.

Who apologizes first? It depends on who messed up.  It’s usually Ash, let’s be fair; he’s shit at everything except fighting Deadites and he’d be the first to tell you that. Most people’s apologies are followed by a “I won’t do it again” but this is Ash... he will do it again so apologies are almost redundant. Even so, he’ll say he’s sorry and then he’ll make up for it... letting me hold Eli or cuddling me while we watch some crappy TV together... Once, I messed up hugely by getting myself severely injured after a Deadite encounter and I bought Ash a new TV with all the premium channels - something he once asked a demon for. I also apologised with words and Ash was more than willing to forget it all! He did, however, finally teach me how to use weapons after that point and the both of us worked to help each other out a bit more.

Big spoon or little spoon? Ash’s tough guy exterior demands that he is the big spoon but he doesn’t actually like being the big spoon unless he can take the position into NSFW territory (he calls it “getting down to business”). He usually just wiggles against me, as if he can’t get comfortable, until I get the hint and turn around so that he is the little spoon... and then he melts. He buries his face either in the crook of my neck or my chest (he’s after my heartbeat) and I’ll stroke his hair and if we’re very lucky... Ash will actually go to sleep. Ash is always the little spoon; them’s the rules! If I need comforting or if I can’t sleep etc. then Ash will be the big spoon, but mostly he prefers to be the little one. I love the way I can then literally watch over him and protect him, though, so it works out well for us both!

Dom or sub? Ash and I typically assume whatever role we need to. Sometimes Ash is more in control and sometimes I am. We usually feed off the other person to work out what they need. On the days we both need comfort, then we switch and take care of each other in order to take care of ourselves. We live for each other🥺💗 Generally speaking, Ash is the dom, if only because he’s literally double my age and that’s just the dynamic we fell into.

What are their kisses like? Ash kisses me like it’s the first and the last time he’s ever going to get to kiss me. Any moment he could die, at any moment there could be a Deadite, any moment could something take me away from him and he truly fears losing the people he loves because that’s all he’s ever known. I always know when my Ashy is going to kiss me because he’ll get this... darker look in his eyes and he’ll grab me either by my waist or my shoulders and I’ll get tugged into him. He almost slams his lips into mine and then it softens into tenderness and reverence. His kisses are either slow and he takes his time or they’re fast and rushed because shit, he’s late for work but he can’t pull himself away... No matter where his hands start, they will finish on my face as he holds me to him. I am always left feeling dazed. No one kisses me like Ash.

What do they smell like? In the show Ash wears Pinaud Clubman, which is described as

It makes me feel so safe, though the metallic tang of blood which is practically soaked into Ash’s clothes, even when they’re clean, almost ruins that sense of familiarity and safety. Almost. If Ash is at work or if he’s out with Kelly and Pablo, then I might use some of it and ‘borrow’ one of his shirts just to feel him near me. I’m not saying I’m clingy, but... I do need to have some part of Ash with me during those long periods he’s not there, just to comfort myself and keep me focused on what I’m doing. I also have my own shirt which I bought which looks like Ash; though I rarely wear that now that I know I could have just... asked Ash for one of his shirts🥺

What are their hugs like? Ash hugs the way he kisses... like it’s the first and last time all at once. I don’t ever have to worry that I’m annoying Ash with how often I want to be hugged or held because he melts every single time. He’s touch starved and in a lot of ways so am I. When Ash and I hug we cease to be Erika and Ash. We just become this... human mesh where limbs and such are entangled and you can’t really tell who’s who. Ash is four inches taller than me so I disappear into him, especially if he rests his head on my shoulder, and we clutch each other like we’ll die if we let go. Ash does sometimes feel that way because his fears come straight up to the surface and I’ll stroke his hair and tell him that I’m there, I’m okay and I’m safe and so is he. Ash’s hugs centre me and they remind me of where I am and what I’m doing and Ash never pulls away first. Even if he hugs me first, he won’t let me go until I step away. Truthfully, we both find it hard to step away and sometimes we can stand there for up to thirty minutes, taking and giving comfort and love in equal measures. With one arm around my shoulders and one around my waist, Ash holds me to him. I always have my arms around his middle and my fingers will be knotted into his blue shirts. When we pull away, the middle of Ash’s shirt will be creased; it makes me miss him all the more. He’s been late to work on many an occasion because we both know that this hug could very well be the last and we want to make it count.

Who is more protective? This depends on the situation. 

In general life and if there are Deadites involved, then Ash is the most protective person. To the extent where it’s almost overwhelming. If I go to the bathroom when there’s whispers of Deadites then Ash will literally stand outside the door or, at least, close by, and every thirty seconds or so I’ll hear him asking if I’m all right. I more than understand his concern though so I treat every check-up seriously. It means the world to me to be so important to him. 

In Elk’s Grove, Michigan, when there are whispers of Ashy Slashy and of how he went mad and killed all his friends at the cabin back in 1983, I’m the protective one. I can and I will go head to head with people to put them right about my Ash. I don’t like conflict and I avoid confrontation like the plague, but for one of my loved ones??? Hold my coffee. Ash finds it really hot and that tough guy exterior comes out because Ash doesn’t know how else to handle the situation, but then when it’s just he and I back in the trailer or the Delta, his brown eyes soften and my Ash will thank me with a tight hug, whispers of love and a kiss so powerful I forget why he was kissing me in the first place.

Interested in children? Nope. I’d rather eat my own foot and Ash just... doesn’t want to. He does have a daughter, Brandi, from another relationship and I’m friends with her (she’s seventeen by the time he meets her for the first time), but beyond that, kids are a no-go!

Who needs the most TLC when sick? Both Ash and I work through our sicknesses by ourselves and we don’t bring all that much attention to it, but Ash is, as I’ve said, so scared of losing anyone he loves that when I get sick he almost buys out S-Mart’s pharmaceutical section. He’s almost overbearing when I get sick but the joke’s on him because I get my ‘revenge’ when he inevitably gets sick, too - the dumbass still kisses me when I’m ill so as I recover, he’s coming down with it.😂 I love my slasher himbo so much...

Who says ‘I love you’ first? Ash said it first. We were driving in the Delta to go back to the trailer and he had a cut on his cheek. He had taped it up with duct tape but I had some antiseptic wipes in my bag so I was attempting to patch him up on the way home and Ash just said he loved me without taking his eyes off the road. I said it back without even thinking about it and then Ash almost got us into a crash because he took his eyes off the road to stare at me. Luckily the other car honked just in time before Ash had to slam down on the brakes or his injury would have been so much worse. 😂 In day to day life, either of us will say it first and the other always says it back. Any time could be the last time and we’re both painfully aware of that fact, though Ash knows it far more than I do for obvious reasons .I get upset if an “I love you” isn’t returned because it can lead to insecurities and tears and Ash... likes to avoid waterworks because he never knows what to do.

Which of you is more accident prone? Ashhhhh ~ without a doubt! He’s forever coming back to the trailer with cuts, scrapes, bruises...even just at work in the housewares department, if there’s a way for him to injure himself then he’ll do it. Not on purpose, mind, but he’s as much of a klutz as I am and evil follows him wherever he goes. Many a time I’ve patched him up (sometimes he doesn’t even realise he’s got an injury because he’s so used to being covered in blood and gore) and then discovered one of my own and Ash has patched me up to return the gesture. I guess you could say we put each other’s broken pieces back together, though of course there’s nothing to be romanticised about falling apart.

Bed hog? I had to think about this one, but considering Ash rarely actually sleeps, I’d say it’s me. I once managed to fall out of a Queen sized bed because I rolled over too far. I’d been lying in the middle and I have yet to work out how I fell out. But I digress. If there’s a way for me to take up all the space in a bed, then I will whether I intend to or not. Ash usually just... climbs over me if he wants to get into bed or if he wants to get out of bed. I sleep and wake like the dead so he won’t wake me unless he actually wants to wake me. If Ash can’t move me then he’ll just lay on top of me and that soothes him to sleep quite quickly... funny how these things work themselves out...😉

Who loves the other the most? I’d say we’re pretty equal in this one, tbh. Ash has lots of fears which stem around losing someone he loves (again) and that can mean that he shows his love for me almost desperately in some ways, and nothing scares me more than my loved ones feel unloved by me, so in that way I’m quite an intense person, too. We both make sure the other person knows they are loved every second we can and that’s probably why we’ll be a couple which lasts through the ages.

[maydaygirl-save-our-ships]

Lake’s New Normal (A Fanfic)

Summary:

After Lake escapes the train, she’s invited to live with the Cosay family. But after escaping the mirror world, traveling through a supernatural train, and fighting for her life, is she really able to live like a normal teenager?

She’s not sure, but she’s willing to fight every day to make this life her new normal.

Chapter 6: One Small Act

Talking to the policeman had taken longer than Jesse expected. Officer Gonzalez had a lot of questions and Jesse tried to answer them as honestly as he could without mentioning Lake.  

After the long conversation with the policeman, Jesse headed upstairs. He was about to head to Lake’s room when he heard the sounds of a movie playing behind his dad’s study door.

He knocked. “It’s Jesse,” he announced himself.  

“Password?” Lake’s voice said through the door. He could hear Nate snickering on the other side. 

Jesse grinned and said the first thing that came to mind. “Alan Dracula.”

There was a pause and then… “You may enter.” The door opened for him. 

The first thing he saw was Lake sitting back down against the wall with a pillow. Nate was sitting at the wall with his own pillow to her right. The familiar sounds of a movie played on the computer screen.

“Aw man, I love the movie,” Jesse bemoaned as soon as he recognized the movie Lake and his brother were watching without him.

“Shhh,” Lake hushed. “It’s almost over.”

“Is this the part when-” Jesse started to ask when Lake threw her pillow at his head. She always had dead-on aim. 

“Shh!” she insisted.

Jesse took the pillow that was thrown at him and used it as a cushion as he sat against the door next to Lake. After talking to the policeman for over an hour, it was nice to sit down and just watch a movie. Jesse had already seen this movie multiple times, and he found himself more entertained by Lake’s reactions than the movie itself. 

Jesse suddenly felt overwhelmingly grateful that Lake had been able to get off the train. How close had they come to this moment not existing? 

When the movie ended, Jesse got up and turned off the movie player. 

“How was the interrogation?” Lake asked him.

“He was definitely not expecting a story about a kidnapping infinite train,” Jesse said with a laugh. “He asked a lot of questions. I’m pretty sure he thought I was either lying or crazy.  He gave my parents quite a lot of concerned looks.”

“I’m not surprised,” she said dryly. “You probably sounded like a lunatic.”

Jesse held out a hand down towards Lake to help her up. “Come on,” he said. When she gave him a confused look, he explained further. “We have to go through my wardrobe and find clothes for you, remember?” 

Lake sent an amused glance towards his offered hand before grabbing it firmly. He pulled hard in an attempt to pull her onto her feet, but at the same time she pulled down to help herself up. Jesse was instantly yanked down towards her, nearly landing on top of her. 

Lake laughed loudly as Jesse struggled to clamber back onto his feet.

“Okay… that was a stupid idea,” he admitted, but was grinning through his embarrassment. 

“You think?” Lake said as she got to her feet. She was still shaking her head in amusement when she turned to Nate. “Care to help me raid Jesse’s closet?” she asked.

Nate’s whole face lit up. “Really? I can come too?” 

“Of course,” Lake said without a second thought. “I need someone with good taste to help me pick out some good clothes, and we both know Jesse isn’t going to be any help.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I have excellent taste!” Jesse defended. 

Nate was smiling widely and practically vibrating with excitement as he followed them out of their dad’s study into his room. Jesse stared as Nate rushed past him. Nate had never been very interested in picking out clothes before. 

Maybe it had something to do with Lake? Nate always wanted to hang out with Jesse when he was with his friends, but many of Jesse’s friends complained that it was annoying to have a little kid hanging around. How many times had Nate asked to come along only for one of Jesse’s friends to tell him that he couldn’t come? How many times had Jesse allowed this to happen?

Jesse suddenly felt a crushing sensation of overwhelming guilt press down against his chest. He really hadn’t been the best brother to Nate… had he?

The guilt eased somewhat has he watched Lake and his brother chat together all the way to his room. Lake hadn’t found Nate annoying or bothersome. She seemed to like Nate almost instantly, and with how guarded Lake usually was around new people, the fact that she was already so comfortable around Nate said something. She had even invited him along without hesitation.

As Lake and Nate talked and laughed, Jesse noticed many of the jokes between them were at his expense. Lake sent him a few michemious glances in order to gauge his reaction, to which he just rolled his eyes in good humor. Being ganged up on by his brother and his best friend was going to grow old very quickly, but it was worth it to see them getting along.

Nate was the first to enter Jesse’s room and he took a seat on his bed. Jesse opened the closet and began rummaging through the contents, his mind on a specific article of clothing. 

“Before we start and pick out which clothes you like best, you definitely need to have one thing in your wardrobe. This is non negotiable.”

“Okay I’ll bite,” Lake said as she tried to peer over his shoulder. “What is it?”

Jesse pulled out two articles of clothing hanging on two seperate hangers, one green and one black. 

“Everyone needs a comfy jacket in their life,” Jesse said as he held up the two zip-up hoodies. “Which color do you want, I have a black one and a green one. They might be a bit big on you, but that just makes them more comfy.”

Something Jesse couldn’t quite describe flickered across Lake’s face when she looked at the green jacket. He wanted to ask, but he couldn’t think of the words to form the question. 

Without deliberation, Lake reached for the black one. “Definitely this one. It’s more my style.”

Jesse allowed his half-formed question to fade away as he smiled. “Good choice.”

After about ten minutes of Jesse showing Lake a few outfits from his closet, Jesse could tell she was quickly losing interest. 

“I’m not sure any of this is… my style,” Lake said at last. 

Lake pulled out a coral polo shirt that Jesse had placed on the bed next to Nate and held it up to herself. It clashed horribly both against her skin and personality. “I feel like your style is either prep or jock… or somehow a weird combination of the two.”

“That’s not true,” Jesse assured her. “I actually went through a lot of different phases, especially in middle school. I think most of those clothes are in the back of the closet though.”

“You’re hippie phase was hilarious,” Nate said with a giggle. “You had so many tie dye shirts.”

Jesse blushed. “It wasn’t a hippie phase, I just had some friends that were really into yoga.” His blush grew deeper. “I made the tie dye shirts for fun.”

Lake rolled her eyes. “You would.”

“You know what style you might look cool in?” Nate said. “Jesse’s emo phase.” 

Lake snickered. “You had an emo phase?”

Jesse rubbed the back of his neck. “It was only for a few weeks, but yeah. I'm pretty sure I still have the clothes…”

“Jesse was never able to pull the style off, but I bet you could!” Nate said eagerly. 

“What do you mean I wasn’t able to pull it off?” Jesse asked, offended. “I looked cool… right?”

“Umm…”

“Let me guess, you made friends with the emo kids and started dressing like them?” Lake asked with a knowing grin.

“Basically,” Jesse said, “But eventually I got sick of wearing black. I kept their awesome music recommendations though, and I still hang out with them sometimes.” Jesse smiled fondly. “Anyway,” he continued, “My emo clothes are from back in middle school, so they’ll probably fit you.”

Lake stared at the clothes that Jesse pulled out of his closet. Skinny jeans with tears above the knee, a fake leather jacket, monochrome shirts, deep red shirts with too many zippers…

“What do you think?” Jesse asked. 

Lake smiled. “I think... I can work with this.”

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

“Is Lake coming down for lunch?” his mother asked. “You dad almost has the hamburgers grilled up.”

“Yeah, she’ll be down soon,” Jesse said. “She’s just changing into the new clothes I gave her.”

“I can’t wait to see how she looks,” Nate said excitedly from his seat at the table next to him. 

Jesse heard heavy footfalls coming down the stairs. He looked up to see his best friend standing in the doorway with black skinny jeans with rips just above the knee, and a deep red sleeveless shirt, which was mostly covered by his fake leather jacket. He had to admit the outfit looked way better on Lake than it ever had on him.

“So what do you think?” Lake asked, her hands on her hips.  

“Cool...” Nate said in awe. 

Jesse gave her a thumbs up. “You look great!”

His mother smiled. “Oh, I remember when you used to wear that, Jesse! I’m glad you gave that outfit to Lake. It never really… fit your personality.”

“Okay, I get it! Lake looks better in my emo clothes than I do.” Jesse sighed dramatically and closed his eyes. ”I guess I wasn’t meant to be edgy.” 

There was a small, painful flick to his forehead. He glared up at Lake while his hand went to his forehead to rub it.

“Oh, stop whining,” she said. “Your adorable friendly-puppy personality doomed you from pulling off anything remotely edgy, but at least you can pull off the soft boy aesthetic.” She flicked the back of her hand, and the harsh metal reverberated through the air. “I definitely can’t.” 

“Adorable?” Jesse repeated, his smile growing.

“Oh no…” Lake groaned.

“Mom, did you just hear that? Lake called me adorable!” 

“I’m going to call you something else in a minute…” Lake muttered under her breath, but she was fighting back a smile. 

Jesse’s father came in with a plate full of grilled burgers.

“Thanks dear,” his mom said as she kissed her husband on his cheek.

Her mother began assembling the burgers with the buns, lettuce, and tomatoes that she had laid out on the kitten counter. “Lake, sweetie, you said you didn’t like onions right?” his mother asked.

Lake blinked in surprise. “No... I don’t.”

“No problem, I’ll make one without onions for you.”

“Um, thank you,” Lake said with a grateful, if not a somewhat stunned, smile.  

His father’s burgers were delicious as always. Jesse leaned back in his chair as he digested his food. The train food was fun and interesting, but there was nothing like home-cooked food made from the comfort of his home.

“Lake,” Jesse’s mother said as she grabbed her emptied plate and stood up from the table. “I was thinking, we should take you to the mall tomorrow and get you a wardrobe of your own.” 

Before Lake could open her mouth, his dad interrupted. “Is that a good idea, Whittney?” 

“What do you mean?” his mother asked. 

“No offense to you, Lake,” his father said after a moment of hesitation. “But you stand out and people are going to ask questions. I’m not sure a mall is a good idea.”

“Well, she can’t stay hidden away all her life,” his mother argued.

“I’m not saying she has to hide away forever,” his dad explained slowly. “But I’m not sure bringing her to a crowded mall is the best idea.”

His mother waved away his dad’s concern with her hand. “We’ll go early in the morning so there won’t be too many people. Besides, eventually Lake will have to meet people when she starts school.”

“School?” his dad asked in surprise. 

At the same time, Lake also squeaked out: “School?”

“You can’t be serious,” his dad said. “She can go to school… right?” He looked around, unsure. “She doesn’t have a birth certificate or any medical records.”

“They can’t keep her from enrolling, that’s illegal!” his mother countered. “Kids have to go to school. If I have to, I’ll go down to the district office myself and talk with them.”

“What is she supposed to tell everyone about who she is?” his dad asked. “I don’t think the truth is a good idea.”

“I don’t see why that’s any of their business,” his mother said, crossing her arms. “She doesn’t have to tell them anything she doesn’t want to.”

“I don’t think that’s going to-”

“Guys,” Jesse interrupted loudly, cutting off his father. “Why don’t we ask Lake what she wants? It’s her life, after all.”

The adults at the table looked over at Lake, who was biting her lip and staring down at her empty plate. 

“I’m not sure what's going to happen if people see me,” Lake said slowly. “They might freak out, and it’s not exactly easy to explain why I’m metal.” She hesitated, but then her eyes snapped up to look at them. Her eyes were hard and full of determination, a look Jesse had seen on her multiple times on the train. “But I’m tired of hiding. I’m off the train and I want to live my life. I want to go to school, I want to make friends, and I even want to go to prom, as stupid as that sounds.” Lake let out a bitter laugh as she shook her head. “I want to do everything that I was told I couldn’t do.”

Jesse grinned. “Then we’ll help you,” he promised and reached over to place a hand on her own.

“Of course we will,” his mother said firmly. “We’ll figure it out, don’t worry. We’ll deal with the details when the time comes.”

“It would be awesome to go to school together.” Jesse said. “How old are you anyway?” It was strange to realize that he didn’t even know the age of his best friend.

“Well, technically Tulip turned fourteen last month… so I guess fourteen?”

“Sweet! That means you’ll be a freshman! You can go to my high school with me!” 

“Are you sure this is what you want, Lake?” Jesse’s dad asked. “It’s not that I don’t want you to go to the mall, or school, but you have to understand that there will be people that won’t be very accepting. They might not treat you fairly.”

Lake scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I’m used to that. I’ve never let it stop me before.”

His dad gave a thinned-lipped, humorless smile. “I just want you to be prepared. I know it might sound paranoid, but once you go out into the world, you might not be… entirely safe. I have no idea what the police or government might do when they find out about you.”

Jesse’s gut sank at the somber tone in his father’s voice. His father was right. As much as Jesse liked to think that the government hunting down aliens or identified creatures to study was just in the movies, it could actually happen to his best friend.

Lake, however, didn’t waver.  “Again, been there, done that. I can take care of myself.”

“Be that as it may,” his mother said in a brisk voice. “You’re not alone anymore. We’re here to help, right Stephan?”

His dad didn’t answer, and instead he seemed deep in thought. “Maybe we can look into getting you refugee status. I’m not sure how that would work. I would have to make some calls...”

“We can worry about all that later,” his mother said. “There are still a few months before school starts, so we have some time to figure it out. Tomorrow morning we��ll go to the mall and get you a new wardrobe. How does that sound, Lake?”

Lake shifted next to him uncomfortably. “You really don’t have to do all that, I’m fine-”

“You can’t just use Jesse’s old clothes,” his mother insisted. “Especially if you are going to start school. If you're comfortable with going to the mall, then we will go tomorrow, okay?.”

Lake looked over at Jesse. He did his best to not look worried and gave her a thumbs up.

“Okay… thank you.”

--------

The rest of the day was spent introducing Lake to things he likes to do while at home. He played more music for her and introduced her to one of his favorite video games.

After explaining the controls he allowed her to create her own character and start the game from the beginning. She picked up on the mechanics of the game faster than most new players did. 

Jesse and Lake spend hours exploring the fantasy world in the game. Jesse was glad he could give Lake something to do that was relaxing and fun. She deserved to do something fun now that she was free. 

Jesse found his eyes growing heavy as he watched Lake make her way across a mountainside. He learned back against the couch… his eyes growing heavy.

“Jesse…” 

“Jesse…” 

He felt something heavy on his shoulder. He cracked his eye open at the sound of his mother’s voice.

“Hmm?” He muttered.

“Wake up, sweetie,” his mother said. 

He looked around to see that he was still on the couch, and the game they were playing was still on the tv screen. He looked over to his right where Lake had been sitting only to find the source of the pressure against his shoulder. Lake had fallen asleep against his shoulder, the controller still in her hand.

They both hadn’t gotten a good night's sleep the night before, so it wasn’t surprising they had fallen asleep while playing the game.

Jesse winced as he tried to wiggle the fingers of the hand Lake had fallen asleep on, only to discover that his arm had fallen asleep and gone numb under her weight. 

His mother was raising an eyebrow at him. “I think it’s time for bed, don’t you?”

Jesse let out a yawn. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“Why don’t you wake up Lake and you kids can get to bed.” 

Jesse looked over at Lake snoring lightly on his shoulder. A mischievous look crossed his face. Using the hand that was not currently pinned under his sleeping friend, he brought his fingers close to her forehead and flicked her once. 

His fingers stung, but he bit back a yelp- he had been prepared for the pain this time.

“Jesse!” His mother admonished him.

“It’s okay mom, it’s an inside joke… and it’s not like I can hurt her.”

Lake stirred and cracked one eye open, glaring up at him.

“Did you just… flick me?” She asked.

“Not the most pleasant way to be woken up, is it?” He teased. “Also, you’re sleeping on my arm and I can’t feel my fingers.” 

It was Lake’s turn to grin at him. “I don’t know if I feel like getting up,” she said as she leaned more of her weight on him, crushing his arm further. It was uncomfortable but not painful. “Also you make a good squishy pillow.” 

“Sorry mother, as you can see I’m stuck.” Jesse said. “I'll probably lose the hand too,” he added dramatically.

Lake seemed to finally notice his mother. Although a sheepish smile crossed her face, she didn’t move away from him.

His mom chucked. “Well you only need on hand to help us carry our bags at the mall tomorrow, so that’s okay.”

“Hey!” Jessie said while Lake laughed.

“We’ll leave early in the morning around nine-thirty. There shouldn’t be many people there at that time. Does that sound alright?”

Jesse looked at Lake, a flash of nervousness crossed her face, but only for a second. 

Lake nodded. “Yeah that’s fine,” she said. 

“You two obviously need a good night's sleep, so get to bed soon, alright?”

“We will, mom.” 

Once his mom had gone upstairs, Lake stretched and finally got off his shoulder. Jesse shook out his hand, his feeling slowly coming back. After turning off the game, he and Lake headed upstairs for bed.

---------

After Lake said her goodnights to Jesse, she tried her best not to think about tomorrow.

What she said was true, she didn’t want to hide now that she was free. She wanted the freedom to be able to go out to the mall or go to school, but she was still nervous about how people would react to her. At least with Jesse’s parents, she was able to explain where she came from. She didn’t want to have to explain herself to every stranger. She didn’t want them to know where she came from, or to answer endless questions about the mirror world

She just wanted to be able to move on and live her life.

Jesse’s family had been accepting of her… for the most part. His father had been polite enough, but he was definitely worried that she was a threat to his family based off of the accusations he made at breakfast. Even though he did apologize and Lake understood where he was coming from, it still hurt.

However, Lake knew that there would be many humans like him, and worse.

Jesse's father was right, this wasn’t going to be easy.

Would it even be possible for people to learn to accept her?

Lake glanced up from her bed, expecting to see the mirror covered up by the dark blanket only to find the door mirrorless. There were screw marks on the door indicating that the mirror had been removed. 

When had...

Then she remembered Jesse asking his father to remove it for her sake earlier this morning when she had come down the stairs and overheard their conversation. Jesse’s father had said that he might remove the mirror, but Lake didn’t think he would get to it so soon. 

Had he done it because Jesse asked… or for her?

Lake changed into her sleeping clothes and crawled into bed. She could feel her eyelids already growing heavy.

Maybe Jesse’s father needed time to adjust, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t learn to accept her. And if he could, then maybe there was hope that others would too? 

It might take time, and the task of fitting into this world seemed incredibly daunting, but that mirrorless door, that one small act of kindness, gave her hope.

---------

<Previous   

Hi everyone! It's been a long time since I updated! How are the first five episode of book 3 treating everyone...?

I definitely was inspired to post this new chapter because book 3 is coming out and by the lovely people that encouraged me and sent me messages about this fic, thank you! Honestly, I've been busy on other fics, so I'm not sure when the next chapter of this fic will be out. It will probably be updated randomly, whenever I get the inspiration. But thank you all for your patience and I hope you liked this chapter!

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch 6: That Makes 2 Of Us

Summary: Things are heating up between Steve and Katie as their relationship progresses, but when Tony catches them out, he’s on the war path.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x O/C Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language,  Smut (dry humping, Oral sex) NSFW, No under 18! Plenty of fluff and a VERY angry Big Brother!

End of May 2013

“For the one hundredth time, no Tony I am NOT coming.” Katie groaned as she pulled up outside Steve’s apartment building “I have work to do.” “But the damned meeting is in DC!” Tony protested “Surely you can manage to spare an hour! You’re part of the board!” “You know full well that’s only to make sure that Starks maintain a controlling stake…”

“So basically what you’re saying is that you don’t care about our business…” her brother’s voice took on a petulant tone. He could be such a child at times. “Stop being a dick.” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose “Look, I’m busy with work, I can’t just….” “Have you got a man on the go?” he asked suddenly, cutting her off “Because I’ve not seen you for weeks. Do I need to prep a Shovel Talk?” “Goodbye Tony…” Katie sighed, cancelling the call before she stepped out of the car and headed to the lobby door.

In his apartment Steve was reading a proposal and groaning to himself. They wanted him to record videos to talk to high school kids about puberty, keeping fit, being in detention, not doing drugs…and he had agreed, just to shut them up mainly, but he was already regretting his decision. With a final wrinkle of his nose, he threw down the document he was looking at and was about to make himself a coffee when the buzzer to his apartment went off.

“Hey handsome.” Katie’s voice rang over the intercom and he smiled just as he always did when she called him that, a habit she’d slipped easily into over the last 3 weeks of dating, which had consisted of early morning breakfast meets on their way into work, stolen lunchtimes away from the office where they could hold hands with a slice or a burrito as they walked around the Mal, 3 more intimate evening meals at quiet restaurants and one trip to the cinema. That had been Steve’s favourite date so far, not just because it had been his first time in a movie theatre since the 40s, but more so that he he’d enjoyed the feel of her as she leaned into him when he’d put his arm round the back of her chair, sharing popcorn, stolen quick kisses on the lips in the dark as they sat on the back row in between their bursts of hysterical laughter at the film. They had gone to see the third and final instalment of the Hangover trilogy, which Katie had been ridiculously excited about. She loved those films and Steve had to admit he agreed they were pretty good, as all 3 had made him laugh in places until tears rolled down his face. Movie and TV nights in their apartments had also turned into something special too as they snuggled down together, sharing snacks and personal space along with deep kisses that left him wanting a lot more… “Hey sweetheart, come on up.”

He waited for her by the door and felt his breath catch as she emerged onto the landing from the stairs. She was wearing a blue and white LA Dodgers T-shirt, which was tight and finished just above her hips and clung to her chest flashing a strip of her toned stomach, tight grey jeans which fit snug to her ass and black baseball boots. Steve had seen her in jeans, tops, dresses…but never like this. And fuck, she looked hot.

“Hi…” She greeted him with a soft kiss, standing on her toes to meet his lips before she stepped into the apartment and headed into the living room. Spotting the file on the coffee table she picked it up.

“What’s this?” She asked, opening it.

“A proposal from Fury. I’m going to be doing some videos, for high school kids..phys ed classes that kinda thing.” “Videos?” she wrinkled her nose “Yeah, apparently they get Celebrities to do them normally but they thought they’d use me this time.” “You’re not some kind of performing monkey they can trot out when they want.” she scoffed, remembering those awful USO videos as she thumbed through the file. 

Steve smiled at her indignation on his behalf. “It’s only a couple of videos.” he assured her. 

“Hmm.” she said, dropping the file with disdain onto the table “Anyway, enough about that. You busy?” “When it comes to spending time with you? Never.”

“Oh that was smooth, Captain Badass!” she smirked and he gave her a quick shrug and a smile.

“What you got in mind?” he asked.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat she pulled out what looked like 2 tickets from her back pocket and the penny finally dropped. Her outfit, tickets…

“Are we…no, you’re kidding?” and he couldn’t help the childish grin which flickered across his face “Baseball?” *****

“Oh what?” Katie cried out, jumping to her feet as the umpire made an atrocious decision for what felt like the 100th time, turning to Steve in disgust. “Is this guy blind or just really fucking dumb?”

Steve let out a snort, leaning back in his seat with his hand gesturing to the field. “Blind, he has to be. No one can be that stupid. I mean he’s been calling bad ones all game.”

Katie angrily dropped to her chair and Steve gestured to the vendor for 2 more beers. He passed one to Katie who hesitated.

“I bought the car.” she said, looking at him.

“Sweetheart…”   he leaned over, kissing her cheek. “Ridiculously fast metabolism, remember? I’ll drive home…”

“The last time you drove Rainey you didn’t respect her.” she pouted. “You drove her through a fuck tonne of puddles.”

“Doll, it’s a…”

“Er, she.” Katie looked at him. “She is not an it…”

Steve rolled his eyes. She was ridiculously attached to her Range Rover. He had to admit, as far as cars went it was pretty damned nice both to be driven in and to drive. White with black wheels and windows, and every gadget in it known to man. Mind you, he expected nothing else from the Starks.

“Ok, she is a damned four by four…” he raised an eyebrow for her. “They’re supposed to go off roading so what’s a few puddles?”

“Off roading?” Katie spluttered, her eyes wide “oh no, you’re so not driving her ever again…”

“Fine I’ll drink both of these then.” he shrugged, holding both beers up before she glared at him. The desire to drink and have fun won out over protecting her car from a haphazard Captain who was on the sly a bit of a speed demon and probably never actually completed any kind of driving lesson in his life, let alone a test. She dug into her pocket and swiped a beer from his hand, exchanging it for her keys.

“One scratch and you’re a dead man.” she narrowed her eyes playfully.

“I’ll take good care of her.” he said solemnly, putting the keys into his pocket.

As the game progressed, despite his protestations that the LA Dodgers just weren’t his team, he found himself rooting for them and he was getting more and more frustrated at the current batters method. The guy was swinging it around with more force than Thor wielded his hammer and it wasn’t working. But just as Steve was about to let out another cry of frustration, the bat suddenly connected with the ball, and it was a good hit. Both Steve and Katie got to their feet shouting for the players to speed up and go for home. When they made it the pair both let out a loud cheer, and Steve hugged Katie, grinning wildly. At that moment, stood there, surrounded by strangers but with the girl who made him feel so grounded, he had never felt so normal since coming out of the ice, and he loved it. 

The rest of the innings passed far too fast, but at the end of the game, the Dodgers won 8-6, much to Katie’s delight. They joined the throng of people streaming out of the stadium hand in hand and Steve, still grinning like an idiot felt Katie tug on his hand.

“Beer?” she asked as he looked at her.

He nodded, tilting the peak of her cap back slightly and giving her a quick peck on the lips “Sounds great.” And it was a great idea. Until they parked up, walked into the sports bar and spotted half of STRIKE in there round a table.

“Turn around…” Katie hissed with a groan and just as they were about to do so Rumlow yelled from the bar.

“Hey Cap, Nova…”

“Too late…” Steve muttered as Katie rolled her eyes and turned round.

“Beer?” Rumlow asked as they walked towards him.

Steve nodded. “Thanks” “Stark, what do you want to…woah, what is this shit?” Rumlow swerved, pointing at Katie’s shirt. Katie felt a flash of annoyance at the insult to her team.

“This shit just kicked the Nationals asses!” she responded, gesturing to her top.

“Whatever man!” Rumlow shook his head “Fucking Dodgers…” They didn’t have much option then but to join the team. Rumlow took the opportunity to eyeball Katie at every given opportunity and it was really starting to piss Steve off. A few times Katie looked up and caught Steve looking at her, and she would flash him a small but knowing smile. He was glad when it was his round, giving him an excuse to leave the table, Evans following to give him a hand.

“Enjoy your date?” the ginger haired man looked at him.

“What?” Steve said, a little too quickly. “I saw you and Stark kissing.” Evans said, cutting him off. “Outside the stadium. Don’t worry, no one else did.” Steve let out a sigh. It wasn’t like they were doing anything wrong, but he knew that Tony didn’t know yet and the pair of them were simply enjoying the early stages of a new relationship on their own before the inevitable tornado of interest hit once they did go public. Glancing at Katie who was talking to Rollins and Rumlow at their table, he turned back to Evans and dropped his voice slightly.

“We’re not deliberately keeping it from everyone, it’s just early days, don’t want everyone sticking their noses in, get what I’m sayin’?” “Secret’s safe with me.” Evans nodded. “Although I suspect it won’t be a secret for much longer if Rumlow keeps eye fucking your girl.”

Steve let out a snort as he took his change from the bar tender. “He’s a pain in the ass.” “Yeah well do me a favour.” Evans said, picking up 3 of the glasses “When you do eventually snap and beat on him, make sure I’m there.”

****

Later that evening the coffee table at Katie’s apartment sported a number of empty plates which had contained several frozen pizzas, and a quantity of empty beer bottles. Katie was happily snuggled under Steve’s arm, curled against him and he was enjoying the closeness and comfortable silence that had fallen over them as they watched another Game of Thrones episode. Katie had gotten him hooked on the fantasy programme and promised not to watch any of the latest season until he had caught up on the last two. As the episode finished he felt her stir and he didn’t want her to move, thankfully she didn’t too far, simply shifting her head slightly.

“So I never asked if you enjoyed yourself” she said, looking up at him.

“Doll, it was amazing… thank you.” He grinned. “We should go more often” she mused “I haven’t seen a game live in years but I really enjoyed it.”

“You know what I didn’t enjoy?” he looked down at her, the soft light from the lamp illuminating her pretty face, highlighting the freckles spattered across her nose “Sitting in that bar with Rumlow watching him looking at you…”

“Aww were you jealous?” she teased, sitting up.

“Not at all.” He shook his head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he recalled what Evans had said a the bar “Just don’t appreciate him eye fucking my girl.”

She let out a large snort before she looked at him, but then what she registered what he had said she looked at him, her face curious.

“Your girl?” her tone was teasing but the look in her eyes told him she was anything but, in fact she looked almost nervous. “Is that what I am?”

Steve hesitated, realising that he’d never actually asked her that question before. Was 3 weeks too soon? He had no idea but to him it wasn’t, he’d been waiting to be able to call her his for months now.

He looked at her and took a deep breath, before he swallowed and spoke quietly, the nerves making his stomach flip slightly. “Well I’m kinda hoping you wannabe”

She bit her bottom lip and looked down at her hands for a moment before she looked back at him, her features soft, her eyes alive in the dim light of the lamp. And then she went and said 3 words that sent a tingle up and down his spine.

“I already am.” she whispered,

And that was it, his lips crashed onto hers and he was kissing her like he’d been wanting to kiss her all day, arm curling tighter round her, pulling her close. Katie took the initiative, every inch of her body was on fire for him, and she wrapped her arms round his neck and pulled him down as she fell slowly backwards, sinking into the couch. The movement came as a not-entirely unwelcome surprise to Steve and he didn’t resist. Automatically his hands crept to her hips, settling just under the hem of her top as she placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw. She broke away this time to breathe, head resting on the arm of the couch and he dropped his head, pausing his lips inches from her neck.

“Can I kiss you here?” he whispered softly. .

“God, yes…” Katie sighed and he obliged, pressing his mouth to her neck. He gripped her hips again and they gave a little jerk of their own accord, pushing up against him and they both groaned slightly at the contact. At the noise Steve pulled back to stare at her again, almost as if he was needing her permission to carry on. Katie wordlessly answered by tilting her hips up again, causing him to moan once more.

“Doll, I don’t want to rush you or do anything-”

“It’s okay Steve,” she said, her voice low and slightly breathy as she looked at him, her eyes, locking onto his. She wanted this, more than she’d wanted anything before. She pushed her head upwards, lips crashing onto his and her hands slid under his t- shirt. His muscles twitched under her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails across his stomach sent a spike of desire, like a red hot poker through his entire body. At that point, something snapped inside him and he let out a growl and Katie paused, hands still on his stomach.

“Did you just growl at me?” her eyes flashed, dark, a smirk on her face. She was enjoying the effect she had on him, and right now so was he.

“Yeah.” he nodded, simply. Her smirk grew wider.

“Do it again.” she said, her voice sultry, laced with desire and this time it was his turn to smirk.

“Make me.” he said, using the 2 words she often uttered to him at the height of one of her stubborn outbursts.

“Challenge accepted…” she muttered as she grasped the bottom of his T-shirt. He held his arms up so she could remove it, and she pulled it over his head and once he was free he glanced down to see Katie looking at his chest. She swallowed, she’d never seen him topless before and she was momentarily stunned. She let her hands wander, tracing the lines of the flowing muscles and he let out another groan wanting to feel her skin against his. He interrupted her hands exploration by gripping her top looked back at her, ever questioning. As means of an answer she moved her arms and sat up slightly to allow him to pull it up over her head, her hair falling around her shoulders, his lips catching hers as he gently slipped one strap of her bra down at a time placing a soft kiss on each of her shoulders. Her breasts spilled over the tops of the lace lined cups and his groin twitched, the crotch of his jeans now painfully tight.

“You’re beautiful…” he whispered gently, and then he kissed her again. Her fingers gently took his hands and she guided them onto her, sliding them up her rib cage to her chest and he obliged, boy did he oblige. Gently at first, softly squeezing and kneading the soft flesh and white lace, before his hand slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs, acting completely on instinct, listening and watching her as she groaned gently, arching her back, her reaction telling him he was doing something right as all the time his groin bumped against hers.

Katie could feel the fabric of her underwear sliding in her jeans with every thrust of his hips against hers, that’s how wet she was. Steve was rocking hard against her and she buried her fingers in his hair, pulling, hard, forcing his head back sharply. As she tugged he let out another low growl and when she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking as she watched him, his pupils blown so wide there was hardly any blue left.

The rhythm of his hips was growing more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate. “More,” she moaned into his mouth, and he gave her what she wanted, moving his hips even faster, rubbing against her in ways that had her clutching at his back like her life depended on it. Steve had never felt anything like this in his life. It was so good, so right, in a way nothing had ever felt so right before. This was a first for him, rutting up against someone fully clothed. Making out, Bucky had called it, but none of Steve’s bedroom experiences had ever entailed anything like this, and God, his head was a whirl of lust, desire, and he didn’t give a fuck about anything else at that moment other than her as she lay underneath him.

He started to lose his rhythm and he let out another groan. “Sweetheart, I’m close.” He breathed, the tell-tale tightening across his lower stomach warned him he was fast approaching his release “You almost there? Tell me your close baby, please?” He wanted to get her there first. Again, he’d never really given a shit about that before but he wanted her to feel good like she made him feel.

He needn’t have worried, at his words it was all she could do to moan brokenly and nod and his mouth fell to that spot on her neck which seemed to drive her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more thrusts of his hips against hers and she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair as the lights exploded in front her eyes and she felt the coil in her stomach unravelling as she came hard underneath him, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Stevie…”and it was the single most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life. Her name for him, the name that no-one in this day and age called him other than her, tumbled from her lips and seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy. His head dropped to the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair as they both breathed deeply as they waited to regain control of their bodies. Eventually both of them evened out and he raised his head to look at her, to find her smirking a little, her eyes twinkling with what looked like humour.

“What?” he managed to ask, his nose sliding against hers.

“I haven’t dry humped since I was about 16.” she said closing her eyes again with a smirk.

He felt himself chuckle and she pressed a soft kiss to his lips, one of her hands running up and down his spine causing the muscles to gently twitch at her touch, neither of them in a hurry to move. Steve closed his eyes and lay his head gently on her chest as she continued to card her other hand through his hair. He felt himself beginning to doze off, and Katie was also growing sleepy so she gently kissed his head and whispered a single word to him.

“Stay?”

It was a question to him, an invitation to stay with her that she was desperately hoping he’d take up.

He opened his eyes to blink lazily up at her. “Do you want me to?” he said, his voice thick.

She nodded, “Let’s go to bed.”

He made to stand before he remembered his trouser predicament having just shot his load into them like a pubescent teenager and stilled, his cheeks flushing even more.

“I uh…I think I need to…”

“There’s some stuff of Tony’s in the spare room.” she said, looking at him cutting him off knowing exactly what the problem was because she was also in need of a clean-up “Should be a pair of sweats in there. Might be a bit short on you but…”

With another soft kiss, he pushed himself up off the couch before offering her his hand. She took it and he pulled her up, a little more forcefully than he had intended and she fell forwards, crashing into his chest.

“Steady on Soldier.” she grinned and he apologised, dropping a kiss to her forehead as his gaze once more dropped to her chest. With a certain glint in her eye she turned around, undid her bra and slipped it off before bending over in front of him, picking up his T-shirt from where she’d tossed it to the floor before heading over to the stairs.

Steve was hard again like it had never left.

After he had cleaned himself and thrown on a pair of Tony’s sweatpants he retrieved from the spare room he exited the main bathroom and headed into her. She wasn’t asleep as he found out as he settled down in the bed next to her, and she rest her head on his bare chest tangling her legs into his as his hand stroked her back, gently underneath his T’shirt, light fingers brushing her soft skin. He loved touching her, in any way he could.

“This is mine…” he teased with a yawn as he tugged at the bottom of his shirt and she moved laying a soft kiss onto his lips.

“You can have it back tomorrow.” she said, laying her head back down on his chest. As her breathing grew even he felt himself start to drift off too, the warm feeling in his chest made him want to burst with happiness.

*****

When Steve woke the next morning it was peacefully. Katie had shifted positions through the night and now her back was to him pressed as close as she could get, he still had his arms around her, his face buried in her hair. She smelt so familiar and comfortable. As his sleepy brain reminded him of the previous night he smiled and felt a familiar twitch. He was hard, again, which wasn’t uncommon when waking up, but suddenly he felt her stir, and then he realised with horror that she was going to feel him poking her in the back.

It took Katie a few seconds to recall the night before, but when she felt a solid, warm wall of muscle pressed against her, a small hum of contentment rumbled in her throat as she pushed back further into him. They both lay there for a moment, silently, basking in the warmth and softness of each other before Katie turned over and looked up at him. Her face was devoid of any make up, not that she wore a lot anyway, but her freckles were more pronounced, clear skin was bright, cheeks flushed and her hair was tousled in waves around her shoulders. He reached out to tuck a long strand that had fallen over her cheek behind her ears, when she looked up at him, her eyes glinting.

He was about to wish her good morning, but before he could she kissed him, hard and fast, tongue tangling with his. And then she was straddling him, his head against the pillow, as her lips began to trail down his chest. By the time his brain had caught up with what was going on, she had reached her destination and had flipped the waist band of the sweats he was wearing down, taking his erection firmly in one hand, making him hiss slightly.

His size had taken Katie slightly by surprise, although she knew with retrospect it shouldn’t have. She looked up and locked eyes with him before she gave him one final smirk and took him in her mouth. Steve panicked for a second, this had never happened to him before, but it wasn’t for long as all worry flew out of his mind as she began to work him.

From the noises he was making Katie knew he was enjoying himself. Which was her aim. After a short while, she pulled off of him to suck at the tip and worked her hands over the rest of his length. When she glanced up at him, he had his head thrown back against the pillow, face contorted in utter pleasure. She continued to lick, suck, and when she pulled away slightly to suck at the sensitive tip, working the rest of his length with her hands he let out a loud groan and he looked at her. Her eyes locked onto his and he felt that tell-tale warmth rising in his groin and stomach.

"Katie, sweetheart, shit.” His voice was raspy from desire and the fact it was morning and Katie was beyond aroused at the sound as he babbled the first words either of them had spoken since waking. “I’m gonna-” his words caught in his mouth as she took him in hers again, this time all the way to the back of her throat. At that, he was gone, his fingers gripped her hair tight the other clutched at the bedsheets, noises escaping him that he’d never heard before as he spilled himself down her throat and slumped back completely blissed out.

Katie rolled onto her side watching, as he finally opened his eyes and looked down at her.

“Morning handsome.”  she grinned and he felt himself chuckle.

“Morning baby.” he said, still fighting to control his breathing.

“You want breakfast?” she asked, leaning over to peck him on the lips. He hummed a response and she smiled once more before climbing out of bed. Steve watched her head into the bathroom and found himself thinking that as far as mornings went, he’d had worse.

She emerged a few moments later, her hair was now pulled up into a pony tail and she was still in his T-shirt, which fell to midway down her toned thighs, giving him a better look at that intriguing tattoo that adorned her right which he still hadn’t seen in full properly. She flashed him a smile, fully aware he was looking her up and down, and then she left without a word, clearly with no intentions of getting dressed fully yet. Which was fine by him.

Katie turned the radio on and set about making coffee, singing softly to herself as she replaced the filter paper. Reaching up into the cupboard for the Columbian Roast, the T-shirt she was wearing rode up slightly giving Steve, who was now out of bed and leaning in the doorway watching her sing, a perfect view of her ass which was clad in black lace panties. The tendrils of self-control he had been holding onto snapped completely and he crossed the room in 4 long strides and gently placed his hands on her hips, causing her to jump slightly as she hadn’t heard him approach. As he spun her to face him, she giggled slightly before his lips met hers and he reached down and cupped her ass in both hands picking her up easily and setting her down on the counter.

“Something got you worked up Captain?” she teased, looking up at him. Last night had clearly unlocked something in the Soldier, and she was liking what she was seeing, and feeling.  

“Yeah, the sight of you wearing nothing but a pair of panties and my t-shirt…” he said raising an eyebrow. She laughed, her arms snaking around his neck as she leaned in to kiss him again. His hands slid to her thighs and they both glanced down as he pushed his T-shirt up to her hips, taking in the design on her thigh. Various entwined flowers, four butterflies and four stars, one for each member of her family she had explained when she’d told him about it, all bound together with a delicate line of green leaves which ran from just above her knee right up to her hip. She smiled at him as his fingers started to trace the design, all the way up until just as he had reached the bottom of her panties, which he fully intended on slipping his fingers into, they were interrupted by the sound of the lift doors opening.

“Hey Kiddo, you in?” Steve and Katie exchanged a look, utter horror spreading from Steve’s head to his toes as Tony’s voice hit his ears.

“Kiddo?” he shouted again. “I can smell coffee, you in the kitchen?”

“Shit…” Katie said as she gently pushed Steve backwards, jumping down from the counter, adjusting the T-shirt. Steve was now a shade of crimson pretty much from his neck upwards as he desperately tried to rearrange his pants to hide his once more ebbing arousal. She debated telling Steve to hide in the bedroom but there was no way he’d get across the open plan living space to the stairs without Tony seeing him.

They were well and truly caught.

As she clocked the utter horror on Steve’s face she was suddenly overcome with giggles at how ridiculous the entire situation was. A super soldier and a SHIELD agent, both of them having faught aliens, deadly terrorists and weapons traders, were stood in her kitchen panicking about being busted fooling around by her brother.

“So, the damned board meeting was cancelled which would have been fine had I not already been on the jet over, so I thought seeing as I now in town with nothing to do we could hang for the day or if you’re too busy at least have breakfast…” Tony’s voice was getting louder as he walked through the apartment.

Steve looked at her in utter astonishment as she began to laugh now because frankly he couldn’t think of a single thing that was funny about this situation if he tried. Her laughter didn’t stop even as her brother walked into the kitchen, his brown eyes flashing from his sister to Steve and their various state of undress, a look of utter horror on his face as he processed the implications.

“Oh you have gottta be fucking kidding me…” Tony muttered, dropping the box he was carrying onto the kitchen counter. “Please tell me there’s a perfectly innocent explanation for this…” “Explanation yes, innocent…not so much.” Katie said through her laughter and Steve let out a groan. This was not how he wanted Tony to find out.  “Don’t you know how to buzz Dickwad, before just walking into my apartment?”

“I have a key…” “For emergencies…” she shot back. “Stop changing the subject.” Tony demanded his eyes flashing dangerously and Katie folded her arms and tilted her chin up defiantly.

“Look, this isn’t a big deal, Tony…”

“No, this…this is a very big deal…” he snapped back as he looked from her to Steve, every line on his face was contorted with anger and shock.

Steve took a deep breath “Tony…” he began trying to placate the billionaire but he was cut off.

“What, you gonna tell me this aint what it looks like?” he shook his head. “That Captain America isn’t banging my little sister? I might be like nearly 60 years younger than you old man but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Steve took a breath, his nostrils flaring at Tony’s snipe.

“Tony, I’m 29 next week, I can do what or who I like” Katie snapped at him “And besides you’ve no room to talk, the amount of times I’ve walked in on you and whichever bimbo you decided to bring home that night…”

“That is completely different!” Tony spluttered.

“No it isn’t” she shot back, hands going to her hips.

Tony’s eyes locked onto hers, before he looked back at Steve who held his gaze evenly, before the dark haired man shook his head and looked at the super soldier.

“Can you go and put some clothes on please, frankly the amount of flesh on show is disturbing me.” “Well I would but your sister is still wearing my shirt.” Steve shot back, his temper rising. Tony gave another growl and then he stopped, open mouthed.

“Are those my sweats?” he said, his voice practically a squeak.

“Yes.” Katie said simply, and at that point she grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him out of the room and up the stairs. The initial humour she had found in the situation had ebbed away and now she was livid at her brother.

“He is…” she started, opening the various drawers to pull out a hooded top. Taking Steve’s T-shirt off, as she threw it over the bed to him. “The biggest hypocrite going…”

“To be fair I can kinda see it from his point of view…” Steve said shrugging on his T-shirt and making a point of averting his eyes as she strode over to her dresser, naked bar her panties. Ok, maybe he didn’t avert them completely, he was still a normal man after all.

She pulled on a hoody and narrowed her eyes at Steve. “Don’t defend him…”

He chuckled and crossed the room, walking round the bed. “I’m not.” he placed a peck on her lips “But I do think that I should go, let you talk to him alone…”

“Yeah, probably for the best…” she breathed out a sigh and followed him down the stairs where he retrieved his sneakers.

“Wait, do you wanna take my car or…” He gestured up and down his body, and she took in his trainers, slightly too short joggers and a T-shirt “Nah baby girl, I’ll run.” She smiled at the term of endearment as he dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll call you later.” He said, before disappearing in the elevator.

Katie took a deep breath and walked back into the kitchen. Tony eyed her from where he was leaning against the counter, mug of coffee in his hand.

“Don’t start…” Katie warned him, to no avail

“Oh I’m gonna start!” he said, pausing “Where is he?”

“Gone home.”

Tony snorted “I bet he has…” “You know I don’t remember me reacting like this every time you brought a girl home, which from my recollection happened quite a lot.” Katie sniped back, as she walked to where he was stood by the coffee pot and reached round him to pour herself a mug.

“That..that was different…” he stammered at her back as she walked to the fridge, for the milk

“How so?” she asked, wrenching it open.

“Because, well, it’s him…” he whined “I mean, seriously? Of all the men in the world…”

“Yeah because the last one worked out so great…” Katie said sarcastically bumping the fridge closed with her hip.

The room fell silent bar the chink of the spoon on the edge of her pink unicorn mug as she stirred in sugar and milk. She took a sip of her drink and turned to face her brother who was hunched over the counter slightly, eyes on his mug. Eventually he straightened up and met his sister’s eyes before he spoke again, this time his voice was softer.

“How long?” he asked,

“3 weeks” she said. “Give or take, not long.”

“3 weeks, and I’m only just finding out?” “Yes, Tony.” she said with the air of someone talking to a small child “And your reaction is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

To be fair, Steve was right. It wasn’t an ideal way for him to find out, but she knew the reaction from Tony wasn’t about her being caught, it was about her being caught with Steve Rogers. Tony and Steve got on ok. That hadn’t always been the case, there had been a lot of tension between the men when they first met but after the battle of New York Steve had spent a lot of time with them both at the tower. Tony was still a little reserved with Steve, more so due to the fact that Captain America was someone their dad had idolised but, whilst the two men were immensely different, there was a mutual respect between them and Katie was hoping now that that was going to be enough for Tony to be reasonable about the situation.

“Please don’t kick off about this. I care about him, a lot.” she said gently, looking at her brother, appealing to his better nature and the fact that she knew he would want her to be happy.

And sure enough, that was exactly what Tony asked as he looked at her.

“Does he make you happy?”

“More than anything.” she replied honestly. “I really like him Tony.”

Tony studied her face for a moment before he let out a deep sigh, looking away. “Damned it…” he groaned “I can’t believe I’m going to have to have the Shovel Conversation with Captain America.”

In the silence that followed Katie debated pointing out that Steve wouldn’t be frightened in the slightest of Tony’s various threats anyway, but who was she to rob her brother of his opportunity to try and protect her?  Instead she placed her mug on the counter and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Tony who sighed again and reciprocated the gesture.

“Suppose he is an improvement on Agent Shitweasel” he said, resting his chin on her head.

“That’s not exactly a glowing endorsement.” she snorted.

*****

Steve was reading a book in his lounge when Katie messaged him later that afternoon. Apparently Tony had calmed down enough to take her for lunch at some Italian place in the Business District following which they’d had a walk round the city together before Tony had left to go back to New York. Steve was pleased, he knew that despite the fact that he drove her insane at times, she loved the bones of her brother which was why his reaction before had pissed her off. He messaged back, telling her he was glad she’d had a good time and that he would call her later before he picked his book back up, but he’d only managed another chapter or so before there was a buzz on his intercom.

“Rogers, it’s me.”

Steve sighed “Come on up.”

He wasn’t surprised Tony was on his doorstep, he’d been half expecting it. And, judging from the lack of stupid nickname, no Spangles, no Capsicle, no Old Man, he wasn’t here to exchange pleasantries. A fact that was confirmed when Stark didn’t wait for Steve to invite him in, he simply pushed past the door into his flat and stalked inside, glancing around.

“You can tell Kiddo helped you decorate and furnish this gaff, far too modern to be your doing. There’s no Dig for Victory posters or wind up radios…” Tony said, causing Steve to roll his eyes “Holy shit, is that an original Dekka?”

“Katie said you’d like that” Steve watched the inventor cross the room and run his hands across the sleekness of the record player’s casing. “But I have a feeling you didn’t come here to admire my music equipment.”

“Perceptive” Tony turned to face him, his eyes flashing. Steve took a deep breath.

“Tony, I…” “No, you don’t get to talk, you get to listen. And you better listen good.” the billionaire cut him off “Katie was heartbroken when Agent Shitweasel did the dirty on her. She came home and I held her as she cried herself to sleep for 2 goddamned weeks before she shipped out to New Mexico… ”

“Tony…”Steve began, knowing already where this conversation was going. He wanted to assure Tony that he would never do what Ward had done, ever. But Tony ignored him.

“I hated him.” Tony said “he was an absolute dickhead with her at times and she changed because of it.  And then, after New York she seemed to go back to being her old self. She was laughing, socialising…and that was down to you” Tony looked at the Super Soldier, who cocked his head slightly to the right as he listened, a small smile tugging at his lips “ She had a friend, something she hasn’t had much time for since my little sioree in an Afghan cave, my bad, and for the first time in ages I can see she’s over it, you know…” he took a deep breath and Steve waited for him to finish “But Katie puts her heart into everything, and I gotta ask Cap, is this serious for you or you just after getting your dick wet?”

“What? No, of course it’s serious for me Tony…” Steve said, his temper flaring slightly at his crass tone. “I can’t believe you think that little of me that you had to even ask me that!”

“Oh get off your high horse, Rogers!” Tony shook his head, and Steve raised his eyebrows “This has nothing to do with what I think of you, this is about my sister…you know the girl I brought up from the age of 7.  The girl I couldn’t love any more if she was my own. I’d die for her you got that? Die for her!”

“Well that makes 2 of us!” Steve said loudly, silencing the other man. There was a moment where no sound was heard in the apartment bar the ticking of the clock on the wall and Tony raised his eyebrows slightly as Steve looked down at the floor taking a deep breath.

“Look, I know you’re not happy about this…” Steve sighed, looking at Tony again “But do I care about her Tony, more than you know, and nothing you do or say to me is gonna change that.”

Tony’s eyes softened, but his jaw remained set. Steve took a deep breath and wet his lips before he continued.  “And, for what it’s worth, I think you did a damned good job of raising her. She’s an incredible woman.”

“She’s a pain in the ass…” Tony sniffed, Steve was glad to hear his tone was less confrontational “And she’s stubborn, always thinks she knows best…”

“Wonder where she gets that from?” Steve said cheekily

“Absolutely no idea” Tony deadpanned back.

Steve’s face cracked into a smile as did Tony’s.

“Look.” Tony sighed, “I just want her to be happy and with someone that treats her right…”

“I don’t ever want to hurt her, Tony. You have my word…” Steve said, honestly.

“Good, because if you do, make no mistake I will fucking kill you, slowly and painfully and there will be no defrosting 70 years down the line.” Tony’s brown eyes flashed slightly as he stared at Steve, And Steve knew, absolutely 100% that he meant it. He was surprised to find himself slightly unnerved by the threat. Hoping that his face didn’t give him away her merely nodded and then Tony’s demeanour changed completely and he turned back into the Tony Stark that Steve knew, and had to admit quite liked after all.

“Good, this was a good talk…” Tony said, clapping Steve on the shoulder.

Steve smiled as the weight he hadn’t even realised he’d been carrying was lifted off his shoulder. Having Tony’s, albeit grudging, approval would mean the world to Katie, and if he was honest, it meant a lot to him as well. Not only was Tony his friend also, but he was the closest thing Katie had to a father, and he wanted him to be alright with the fact the two of them were together.

He offered the man a coffee which he politely declined, stating he needed to get back to New York. The two shook hands on the threshold of Steve’s door before Tony gave him one last look, raising his index finger and middle finger of his right hand to his eyes, before turning them to point at Steve in an “I’m watching you” gesture. Steve raised his eyebrows in understanding and felt his mouth tug upwards at the side as Tony turned on his heels and left.

He retreated back to his living room and pulled out his phone.

“Hey Badass” Katie greeted and Steve chuckled.

“I’ve just had a visitor.” Katie groaned into the phone as he sat back on his couch

“Let me guess… my darling brother turned up to give you the shovel talk?” her tone was exasperated. “No mention of a shovel, just threatened to kill me slowly and painfully if I hurt you, and you know what? I have absolutely no qualms about the fact he would.” Steve grinned as he spoke.

“Don’t tell me Captain America is scared of Iron Man?” she questioned playfully. “No, Steve Rogers is slightly disconcerted by Tony Stark.” He corrected as she let out a chuckle.

“Best make sure you don’t hurt me then aint ya?” “I’ve no intentions of doing doll.” He said, honestly before he let out a breath, smiling “I really enjoyed last night.”

“And this morning?”

“Yeah, another first.” He said, unable to stop the smirk on his face spreading into his voice “I’ve never, errr, had a woman use her mouth on me before…or vice versa for that matter.”

“I like being your first.” she said softly and his chest warmed at her words.

“You know what else was a first? Waking up next to my best girl.”

“Best girl? I hope I’m your only girl Rogers.”

A shit eating grin crept back across his face. “Always baby. Always.”

Tags

@momobaby227

@the-omni-princess​

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Episode 30 Review: The Executive Meddling Begins?

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 }

{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

{ Screencaps }

Welcome to my Garden of Evil, where today we end one era of the history of Strange Paradise and begin a new one: the period of the “Lost Episode” summaries, when the soap opera’s producers forced headwriter Ian Martin to rewrite much of his original story, discarding many subplots and planned plot twists and negating the original episode synopses that had already been sent to newspapers throughout North America. The known published synopses for this episode are as follows:

"Vangie, the voodoo priestess, uses her conjurer's powers to weaken the evil spell which possesses Jean Paul and to plant the suggestion that she come to his private island."[1]

"A secret potion draws Jean Paul to a voodoo priestess."[2]

According to Curt Ladnier’s blog, this is the first episode known to have been altered after the synopses were sent out, but, before starting this review, I had my doubts. Certainly, comparison between the summaries and the aired episodes show clear evidence of script changes by Episode 32, but there was enough ambiguity in certain events in this episode for me to question if this one was even rewritten in the first place. So, without further ado, let’s run a fine-toothed comb through the aired version of Episode 30 and see if we can find conclusive evidence of rewriting.

The episode begins with Holly being pushed down the staircase in the Great Hall. She screams loudly and Jean Paul and Reverend Matt Dawson come rushing to her aid. While they help her over to the couch, she turns to Matt and accuses him of deliberately pushing her. Jean Paul (who is wearing an unusual but fetching ensemble with a dark blazer and off-white pants) is also suspicious of him, because, according to him, the Reverend was there when she got pushed. Handsome devil Jacques, of course, comments:

An indication that Jacques did it, or just commenting on the situation?

For some reason, Jean Paul doesn’t blame Jacques this time, but instead Matt, who was there (as was Jacques, most likely) and who has the possible motive of revenge for rejecting his romantic advances (not applicable, but Jacques does have the motive of liking murder). Here is the conversation between them and my commentary:

Matt: "Mr. Desmond, I resent your insinuation. Why should I want to harm Holly?" Jean Paul: "Or kill her?" Matt: "You can't be serious." Holly: "Whoever pushed me was." Matt: "But I followed you down here to help you, not to hurt you." Jean Paul: "Or to have her." [Is he implying that he thinks Matt wants to take advantage of her?] Matt: "Are you serious?" Jean Paul: "Your adoration is about as obvious as her pretty face." [And your pretty...everything.]

Matt: *getting pissed at Jean Paul* "I have had about all the insinuations I can take! All right, I do care about her--deeply."

Matt: *to Holly* "Now, can't you believe that I'm the last one who would want to harm you?" Holly: "You're the first, because I don't care for you!"

Jean Paul tells Reverend Stalker to leave Holly alone "or you'll have me to answer to," so the disgruntled padre flounces. But on his way out, he has some accusations of his own:

ROFL at Matt’s delivery of this line.

Matt reveals that he still hasn’t grasped the concept of the detained guest.

So now you believe in demons? What made you change your mind?

The dialogue in this episode so far is heavy with exposition as usual, but it feels different this time. Usually, the exposition takes the form of one character telling another directly about the events and revelations from past episodes, but this time it's structured differently, as a two-way expository dialogue rather than a speech with questions and reactions from the listener. It still doesn't feel entirely natural--it still has the feel of exposition dialogue--but it's a different format.

I should also note that, according to Bryan Gruszka of StrangeParadise.net, the script reveals that neither Matt nor Jacques pushed her. The attacker’s name is a spoiler in spite of the fact that Martin never got to reveal that they were responsible, so I shall link to the Week 6 trivia page here for anyone who is interested.

Jean Paul has a possession headache, but no funny headache faces this time.

Jacques leaves the portrait (which decided to disappear this episode) and mocks Matt for believing in him--which, I should note, is a change from last episode, where the Reverend firmly denied believing in devils and called them superstition. He calls Matt's belief in him "a sad testimony to the belief in which he was schooled"--again, even though Matt actually didn't believe in devils until apparently the beginning of this episode. Already this is a break in continuity, which does not necessarily indicate someone tampering with the established canon, but is suggestive of it nonetheless. Of course, that’s assuming that it isn’t just an error, which it might be. (Remember that Martin can’t decide whether or not Raxl knows Jean Paul is possessed!)

What's with this lighting effect? Did the director decide that Jacques looked too sexy under normal lighting, so they decided to use underlighting to make him look scarier and less hot? Because the effect is not scary. It makes him look like a Muppet, and Muppets are not scary.

Jacques is getting better at impersonating Jean Paul, as evidenced by this deeply ironic part where he comforts Holly. “Have no fear, cherie,” he says, “I will protect you.”

Meanwhile in the Not-So-Hidden Temple, Vangie gives Raxl a bottle of some potion to slip Jean Paul, which she tells her "is not to kill, but to prevent more killing. It is a Conjure brew to free his mind to make it more responsive to mine." This must be what the Lost Episode summaries are referring to! She doesn’t outright state in this scene that she wants Jean Paul to bring her to Maljardin by boat, but she says that’s what she wants in the episode before this one, so anyone who has seen Episode 29 would already know that.

An interesting detail not mentioned on the trivia page: before parting, Vangie asks Raxl, daughter of the Priestess of the Serpent, to pray to her mother.

Vangie teleports/floats back to the main island, which frightens Quito until Raxl assures him that “the Conjure Woman has found her way home.” They leave the temple and begin traveling down the long tunnel back to the crypt. Unbeknownst to them, Reverend Dawson is there, searching the crypt wall for the Not-So-Hidden Door:

Come on, Matt! It’s not at all hard to find!

He finds it and pushes on the door just as Quito starts pulling it open. When Quito grabs him, both of their expressions are priceless:

I can’t decide whose expression is funnier.

“I was not trespassing in your sacred temple, Raxl!” he cries, then insists that he was only down there “to find a means of saving your master.”

“You knew of the temple because I showed you, a man of your-”

“I have not betrayed its sanctity,” he interrupts, even though he was clearly trying to find it so he could search it for the poison. The implication is that, if he visited without Raxl and Quito’s permission, he would betray the temple’s sanctity. He tells her about the missing cyanide, she tells him about the missing conjure doll and silver pin, and then she assures him that neither Jean Paul nor Jacques could have hidden either in the temple because neither know about it.

Up in the Great Hall, THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES is relaxing pompously when Raxl and Quito enter. He orders Quito to prepare to sail to the main island, which leads Raxl to declare, perhaps over-confidently, “The Conjure Woman got to him even without [the potion]!” This negates the second summary which explicitly indicates the potion as the means of “draw[ing] Jean Paul to [Vangie],” but not the first. Also, what makes Raxl think that this is evidence of Vangie’s influence over him? Apparently Jacques choosing to go to the island out of his own free will isn’t a possibility.

Matt asks if he can return to the main island, but Jacques refuses, declaring that “today is a rather special trip for a lady and myself,” referring to his deliciously evil girlfriend Elizabeth Marshall. The Reverend responds by asking if he trusts her not to reveal the secret of Erica’s death, which Jacques uses as yet another opportunity to make Jean Paul look like a murderer by saying, “There is no one dead here--that I don’t pronounce!” And then he threatens him again:

Someone’s on Jacques’ list of people to kill!

We next see Jacques strutting into the French Leave Café wearing a pair of huge round sunglasses over his eyes. Ironically, the demon who is normally so fond of black clothing has changed into Jean Paul’s off-white suit jacket, although he retains the same red shirt and red-and-black striped tie. I’m thinking that Jacques picked out both outfits and changed before heading out because he just felt like playing dress-up that day. Typical 17th-century fop, just with more modern clothes.

Jacques’ new outfit.

Gold-digger Elizabeth clinging to Jacques as though she’s worried that Vangie will try stealing him from her. Makes me wonder what her 17th-century counterpart’s relationship was to Vangie.

What, no joke about how you “still can’t stand the heat?” I’m shocked!

Even on a date in a public place, he tries to make Jean Paul appear interested in committing murder. He asks Elizabeth how much her daughter’s inheritance is, in case she dies, and then gleefully reminds her of her accident earlier that day!

Back on Maljardin, Quito returns from the main island by himself. While Holly is sipping some of Raxl’s tea (in the literal sense only, unfortunately), he walks up to her holding a shiny stone and offers it to her. She takes it only reluctantly, which reminds me of another Lost Episode summary, this one for Episode 33:

Source: Cleveland Plain Dealer (October 24, 1969).

Quito doesn’t show any signs in this episode of being undead, but he does give Holly a sparkling stone, with little reaction from her. Later in this episode (not in the aired version of Episode 33), Holly gives the stone back to Quito despite his insistence that she keep it, which brings him to tears when he is alone with Raxl towards the end. These events suggest a rewrite more strongly than the original summaries at the top of this page do, because the newspaper summary for Episode 33 clearly indicates that these events were originally slated to happen three episodes later, but moved to this one during rewrites.

What about Quito? It certainly appears that Holly’s won Quito’s heart.

Meanwhile at the French Leave Café, Vangie approaches Jacques and Elizabeth and insists on reading their fortunes, although Elizabeth does not want to hear it. She lays the “King of Scepters” (or, rather, the King of Swords--see the screencap at the beginning of this entry) on their table and Jacques freaks out, enough apparently to de-possess Jean Paul:

Hooray! A headache face!

So did Vangie’s Tarot card make Jacques de-possess him? Or was it something else?

At the end of the episode, Jean Paul invites Vangie to Maljardin himself out of a desire to contact Erica. Much like Jacques’ decision to visit the main island earlier this episode, it comes across as something Jean Paul would decide to do of his own accord, without magical influences. Therefore, I think that we can say that Ian Martin’s original idea for Vangie to use her powers to convince him to take her to the island was indeed scrapped--and that was probably a good thing, because this feels more natural.

The episode ends ominously, with Jean Paul willingly putting everyone’s life on the line to contact Erica’s spirit. Not so different from Jacques wanting to kill everyone.

In conclusion, Episode 30 shows distinct signs of having been rewritten since the release of the Lost Episode summaries. Not only did Vangie’s means of allegedly convincing Jacques to visit the main island and Jean Paul’s motivation for bringing Vangie to Maljardin change, but events originally planned for Episode 33 were moved to this one. There are other minor details that, too, suggest a rewrite: the different mode of exposition and Jacques’ lack of devil/Hell jokes where Martin would have likely inserted them just a week ago. The episode feels different from the earlier Week 6 episodes, but not enough to suggest a new writer.

Coming up next: The last Bad Subtitle Special until the end of Week 8, followed by a review of Episode 31. A mysterious force is tampering with the cryonics capsule, while Alison uncovers even more clues to the mysteries surrounding Erica.

{ <- Previous: Episode 29   ||   Next: Episode 31 -> }

Notes

[1] Fitchburg Sentinel, October 24, 1969.

[2] San Mateo Times, October 17, 1969.

[eternaleve]

I’ve spent the course of COVID lockdown cycling through hyperfixations while also trying to engage in some much needed therapy (lolsob), and I’ve been essentially encouraging myself to try and do more things I can enjoy without feeling shame. Anyway, that’s a short way of saying I decided to blog about all the music videos of Depeche Mode for reasons of science.

The science is that my basic premise is that most of the videos are pretty bad in ways that I find to be pretty strange. Full disclosure is that I spent my teen years being a huge Cure fan and there’s an overlap there? Of songs with very niche high-concept ideas that don’t necessarily map onto a model of popular music but found mainstream success in the rise of new wave music in the wake of the collapse of first wave punk and amplified by the creation of music videos and music video TV. And I owned all the Cure music videos and played them on my iPod Nano because I was a very strange child. But to get back to my central thesis, many of The Cure’s videos are very stylised and fun and memorable in ways that are good. And yet, despite existing in the same sphere and having an overlap of fans, the music videos for Depeche Mode mostly stay bad until the end of the eighties, a fact I will prove by watching them all.

Can you tell that I am bored because i have lost my job and my mental health is making me fixate on strange shit currently because that is absolutely the case right now

Speak & Spell

Dreaming of Me (Feb 1981)

The single art is really lovely - the red/yellow contrast is very striking against the white, and I really love the design. Hey remember when people used to go out and buy singles and you would appreciate them and the work that went into them? I don’t think I’ve bought a physical single since I was about sixteen. I used to buy them from the Woolworths music department because it was cheap and all my friends worked there, so they had a pretty lenient attitude about what exactly constituted paying for things. Woolworths policy of only hiring teenagers is probably what destroyed their business.

Anyway, Dreaming of Me did not chart super well, getting to number 57 and having no official music video - or actually getting onto the album. It wasn’t included on Speak & Spell in the UK until the 2006 re-release. So, there was no music video for me to look at…

Apart from this video I found from local TV in 1981 to promote the song. It’s a maybe-music video. Because music videos had only been around for about six years and MTV didn’t exist until later in the same year, my guess is that Mute Records were pretty cautious about putting money into a medium that might cost more than they would get in publicity. That’s only a guess. I don’t have a crystal ball for forty years ago. 

Anyway, here are some children recording music.

If i was 19 and someone offered me a recording contract I would have taken it without thinking (like i took on all those student loans without thinking through any consequences wompwomp) but now I am nearly thirty I watch this and think, ‘These children shouldn’t be outside unaccompanied’. The passage of time has made a fool of me.

They go bowling and play Space Invaders which, hey, still sounds like a great night out to me, but I’m guessing that because this is very clearly aimed at teenagers the TV producers didn’t want to encourage teen drinking by showing them performing a gig at a club night.

I call it high fashion. The all-grey really sells it.

This reminds me so much of a advice column in teen magazines - when they’d have problems set out in a little faux-comic strip of still photos? ‘My best friend stole and read my diary’ ‘My crush found out about how I feel and now he’s going out with my best friend’, that sort of thing. That is also a classic carpet pattern. I think my grandma’s living room had that carpet. 

The video is very naive! It’s the sort of thing we would all see now on Youtube from bands just starting out and it is wild to me that this went out on TV. It’s very un-glossy and normal, the stuff that bands put out on YouTube now because of DIYness.

New Life (June 1981)

This is also a really great piece of single art. It’s very bold and striking - it would definitely be the standout record in a sea of other 7’’ released the same week. It also doesn’t particularly match the tone of the single but eh, it looks pretty cool. New Life did much better than Dreaming of Me and got up to number 11 in the UK singles chart. Still no official music video, but the charting meant that the band got onto Top of The Pops! ToTP was cancelled when I was a wee baby teen, because the BBC decided to stop caring about yoof viewership and promoting music was circling the drain everywhere as streaming hit, but it was the place to promote music so was definitely a sign that You Had Made It.

So, last video was silly and made by children, but now they’re wearing see-through mesh shirts, leather trousers, and leather hats with a design that I am a little bit dubious about. I grew up on the oi/punk scene and let me tell you about how many first wave punks wear iconography of bad regimes for faux edginess reasons because I met a LOT of them in my time.

Oh boy do i have thoughts about that hat. It also looks like a Leather Daddy hat which, well, let’s leave that thought to one side. Most ToTP performances were lipsynced. Playing things live would sound weird in the studio, be picked up strangely by the audio equipment and the cameras, so 99% of performances were mimed to the single. Now, some acts would deliberately play up to the pretence and refuse to act like they were doing anything that corresponded to the song - The Jam, The Communards, and The Cure are literally the first examples that come to mind who would just… not do anything close to pretending it was real. 

This is not that. It is very earnest and awkward and serious, which sort of makes it very sweet.

Just Can’t Get Enough (September 1981)

Right, that is shibari, isn’t it? I’m not blind, am I? It’s a very striking image that 99.9% of people would not recognise other than being a striking black and white image. 

I don’t think I can overstate how… innocent, in a way, this point of time was? As in the general level of knowledge about non-conventional stuff in the wider public at large. As in my mother, an almost teen at this point, saw George Michael walking with his boyfriend in central London and had no idea he was gay until he came out. It’s actually the widest cultural gulf I can think of between her teen years and my teen years because I was very aware of queer people from a young age.

Anyway, moving on, I feel like it bears repeating that this song fucking slaps. It’s the last single to be written by Vince Clarke and the last single until 2006 to be written by someone other than Martin Gore. This is one of those songs that just works on every level. Can you imagine coming up with this for the first album of your band? That blows my mind. It’s so overpoweringly good that it was probably for the best that it was saved for last - coming out the gate with a guaranteed fucking banger was been the nail in the coffin for a lot of other eighties synth/electronica bands. They scored a huge hit and then nothing after that managed to be as good or meet the hype. Depeche Mode had built up a far bit of radio play and interest before dropping this which turned out to be very good in the long run!

This got to number 8 on the UK charts and the first to get a music video! It is the only one with Vince Clarke. Full disclosure in that I had this song on my iPod through downloading the video to my computer (that’s how we got songs without using stuff that would give us viruses because i got a ton using bearshare for rare cure demos) and I remember watching the video, all of sixteen years old, and thinking, ‘Man, all these people look so grown up, compared to me, I can’t wait to be an adult!’.

Twelve years have changed my view, somewhat.

Look at this little baby man. Were you in one of my A Level classes - as in, ones that I have taught, not ones that I have been in.

Vince Clarke, however, has had a significant glow up in the six months and now looks like he is the bouncer in a leather bar. This is the One Adult in the room.

Ahh, I see it’s Open Mic Night at the local leather bar. You know what I was saying about how teens in the eighties tended to be significantly more naive about what we might call certain signifiers? Because what this outfit says to me, a queer woman in 2020, is susbstanitally different than to my mum and her friends watching this when it first came out. She would read this as ‘This is totally rebellious and cool!’ while I go ‘Someone just joined the university kink club and spent all their bursary’.

I don’t remember the member of Blazin’ Squad that wore a slave harness. (Now, there’s a reference that shows my age. A Blazin’ Squad reference in the year of Our Lord 2020. Hoooo boy.)

I read somewhere (that I can’t find now because, of course I can’t) that these are the band’s girlfriends and I always remembered that because it made me think, lol, same. One of my closest friends is the Head of London, so she’s in every band in London and if she’s not in yours yet give her time, and my partner was in a locally successful metal/hardcore band for about a decade and being connected with any sort of band means you will be helping out hugely behind the scene constantly. I have held lights, moved speakers, picked up instruments, been in music videos, and have bought tearaway trousers and glowsticks for gigs. You get called in to help all the time which is a lot of fun, so that fact always just stuck with me. It also makes sense financially because then you don’t have to hire any professional backing dancers, you can rely on people who will happily do it for free (while looking pretty rad while doing it!).

Anyway, the band look like those generic raiders that you run into when randomly walking across the map in a Fallout game.

I love awkward choreography in music videos. It feeds me.

Filming a night out provides A) Great footage and B) Can be done for limited overheads, leaving more money to be put into promotion. 

I always like seeing this sort of footage in music videos. I tend to see a lot of it, given the DIY punk scene, and it always charms me. I am easy to please. And all those women have the most amazing eye makeup that makes me super jealous because it all looks so good.

That hat is on point. This looks like a still image for some sort of cyberpunk big band style swing revival that, sadly, lives only in my dreams.

It took me so goddamn long to screenshot this shot probably because i was also blasting dream nails whoops

Anyway those are my reactions to Speak & Spell’s one solitary music video with some other things thrown in and this took me way too long. I make myself laugh though, that’s the main thing. I will do A Broken Frame… at some point. I think I have a bunch of vinyl for A Broken Frame? My mum actually bought all the singles for that album and I stole most of her collection years ago. I will have to search and see what I can find.

[nautiscarader]

Melizack - corset or lingerie

GEEZ I finally found motivation to continue this. I truly apologise for the delay, it’s now a week until December and I’m still not even half-way through the prompts…

This one is a mixture of this prompt, with a very old idea by @vickyships about anniversary sex.

()(Ao3)(next>>)

Melissa was more than glad she decided to spent money for this one night at the hotel. She didn’t want risk doing it in her, or Zack’s house, and since the two were nowhere near financial stability to rent a flat, this was the cheapest option. And of course, it tied nicely to the theme of their night…

Exactly one year ago, on a trip with Milo and Amanda, the two stayed at a motel in mountains, and thanks to their friend’s *unique* aura, the damn thing nearly collapsed, forcing the backpackers to move to a much more expensive newlyweds suites, as the cheaper rooms were flooded with water and, curiously, tomato sauce.

This might have been a nice coincidence, but it was strengthened by the fact that the guest were forced to eat an unusual combination of food, as the kitchen was flooded as well, which lead Melissa to the discovery of particularly stimulating salad. And then, Zack was loving her, for the first time, first clumsily, then, after their fifth time, like a pro.

And tonight, she wanted to thank him for it.

Melissa walked from the bathroom, and watched as Zack’s eyes widen when he noticed her. His mouth opened and he stood up, watching as she walked slowly through their room. Her auburn hair mixed well with the red-and-black lingerie she was wearing, she spent hours in the only sex-shop in Danville, conveniently hidden behind the facade of family-friendly “Modest Clothes For Not Immoral Purposes” shop. But she found the perfect set: it gave away just enough to make Zack stand up - in more than way - but it covered those few precious places she knew he’d like to uncover.

She walked around the room, keeping her eye on her enamoured boyfriend wearing the giddiest, goofiest smiles on his face, as she turned and twisted around, presenting her present from all sides.

- Like what you see, Underwood?

“I love it, Melissa. You look like the most beautiful of goddesses that I wish to worship!” was what he wanted to say. But instead, only some form of guttural, gurgling came out of his mouth.

- Uh-uh!

Melissa smiled and changed her direction, walking towards him. He was standing, but the sheer presence of her made his knees weaker, and with a gentle push of her finger, she toppled him to his back. His hands shot to her, but then, a second present came in place in form of a black, latex whip Melissa gently punished Zack with.

- Au! - Zack jumped in place - What was that for? - No hands. Only your mouth. - she smiled, repeating the procedure with his left hand. This time, a gentle brush was necessary for him to retract.

Zack raised his brow and moved his mouth towards her body, covered in the frivolous, fancy patterns that truly made her look like a piece of art. He smelled her perfume, and watched as the skin underneath his lips gets covered in goosebumps when he lay the first kiss on her belly, sneaking between two strips of material. Melissa let out a tiny, breathless gasp, followed by much longer moan, as he travelled not down, as she thought he would, but around. One by one, he visited every gap in the meticulously made corset, placing his kisses there.

Once he got to her far left side, he looked up at her, and noticed the cocky smile on her face, understanding her comment at once. In order to turn her around he’d need to use something different than hands, and so, Melissa gasped when she felt his teeth graze gently her skin a moment later when he bit her expensive piece of clothing and pulled her around, to which she obliged at once.

Her back and bottom looked even more scrumptious, and Zack truly wished he could get out of the spell Melissa has put on him, but with his hands underneath his butt, he continued his journey, kissing her rump and the especially delicate place around her waist he knew he will have to take extra care of. Even before his tongue got there, she shivered, feeling his hot breath on her extra sensitive skin, and when Zack’s lips made it there, her body she shook and trembled, as Zack continued caressing her giggly spot.

- Za-ack! - she moaned impatiently - That’s-That’s not what I me-meant! - Well, to bad you gave me that order… - he replied, peppering her waist with more kisses.

Suddenly, Melissa had enough and with a sharp turn, he was facing her breasts again, as well as the determined look on her face, once he looked up. before he knew it, he was pushed to his back, and his lingerie-clad girlfriend waddled above him, until she rested her body against his face.

The note of desperation in her moans gave Zack chance to think of the plan. His lips brushed her wet panties, making Melissa throw her head back, and that was the moment Zack counter-attacked. Melissa shrieked when the world around her spun, feeling his strong grip on her waist, and next thing she knew, she was underneath him.

- You cheated! - Better report me to the game master, or something. - Dork. - she smiled, and let him do his work.

he continued his kisses, this time using his hands to undo the intricate parts of her outfit, one by one. he deliberately kissed around her wet sex, though, which resulted in Melissa trashing her body against him, wishing he got to the main course soon. He decided to leave her fishnets on as well as her gloves, but he gladly removed the corset, allowing him to gain the access to her breasts, between which he dived immediately, peppering them with quick, aggressive kisses.

Melissa whimpered when she felt his length brush her sex, her legs almost automatically locking behind his back in an attempt to hasten his moves.

- Zaaack… - she whined, bringing his face against hers - Please… - Look who’s the impatient now… - he smiled, before he cupped her face and kissed her - Alright, let me get the-

But Melissa’s legs closed tighter around his rump, together with her fingers digging in his shoulders. He raised his brow, and Melissa responded with one phrase that made his blood boil.

- Raw me, Zack. - You-you sure?

Melissa sighed.

- Which part of “Raw me” you did not understa-

And then, she shrieked again, when her boyfriend followed her order precisely. Her panties were pushed aside and his cock entered her welcoming warmth, giving Zack chance to experience her wetness for the first time without any artificial material around it. he let out a weak, high-pitched moan of utter bliss, before he got used to the new sensation and began moving back and forth, while Melissa spilled sweet words into his ear.

- You’ve been a very good boy, Zack… I thought you deserved a-a reward…

She cried when she felt him hilting himself inside her. Though she tried to remain calm and restraint, this was also the first time she felt him without a condom, and the difference was staggering. In a sense, she felt they were making love for the first time again, but this time properly.

At some point, Melissa stopped pretending and let the pleasure overwhelm her; her words were no longer carefully crafted taunts or praises, but random, mangled bits and pieces of phrases that showed up on the shore of her stream of consciousness, while Zack pounded her mercilessly. They both knew that with the new layer of sensations they won’t last as long as they’d like to, but neither of them cared. And soon Melissa was begging him, answering the question he had on his mind.

- In-Inside, Zack! - You-you sure? - Yes!

Zack grabbed her ass, still covered in her fancy lingerie, which helped him stabilise his grip, lifted her ass up just a notch, and slammed himself one more time, watching as Melissa’s fingers mash her clit, hoping to reach their edge at the same time. And when the two collapsed, their voices joined in a tired, but content cry as Zack emptied himself into her pussy, that spasmed around his cock, milking him for the seed it never got before.

More kisses followed, as Melissa thanked her boyfriend for his efforts in the only way imaginable. Her legs flailed a bit, his body twitched, and after solid five minutes, the two returned to their senses, and joined each other in a long, sensual kiss. Melissa gently pushed him away, prompting him to pull out, and as he did so, a few droplets of his cum fell onto the black and red panties, adding a new, literal splash of colour to the mix.

- I’d say it looks good on me, don’t you think? - That was bloody amazing, Mel. I want you to wear these all the time. - he kissed her breasts that until recently were covered by the corset. - You have to thank Vanessa, then. - Vanessa? - Zack raised his brow - Professor Time’s daughter, you mean? - Mhm - Melissa nodded, closing her arms around his back, bringing his face even closer to hers - She helped me pick these… Turns out she’s quite kinky. - Well, then. - Zack raise his brow - Maybe we can invite her for the next anniversary, if she’s so well-oriented in those matters? - In your dreams, Underwood - Melissa retorted quickly, without missing a beat. - Well, now she will be in my dreams with you… - Oh, you little~! - Melissa’s eye twitched and she aimed her hand at his face, though with her reflexes dulled from the orgasm, she was able to just punch him lightly in the shoulder, not that she wanted to do anything harder.

The two lovers soon tumbled back and forth on the bed, Melissa ultimately winning, as she pinned him to the bed. But this time, he also heard a metallic click above his head, and realised that his wrists were locked to the bedframe. She straddled him, smirked and once more, she waddled towards him, this time his cum steadily spilling from her used hole along his chest, until she was against his face.

- So, one more time, Zack, only mouth from now on. - she spoke salaciously, with a whip in one hand, and a copy of “Domination for Dummies” in other.

[ilu-writes]

New Clothes

Days and Nights (solangelo)

Rating: G | Warnings: None

AO3 | FF.net |

Prev | x | Next

Will decides it’s time for a much needed change. 

Will knocked on the door to the Hades cabin, bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. There was a soft groan from inside, and then the black door opened slightly and a face appeared in it.

“Why?” Asked a groggy voice, before Nico blinked and focused on Will, frowning. “Solace? What are you doing here?”

Nico had only been at camp for a week, and Will still got kind of flustered seeing him. Especially when his hair was sticking up in all directions and his voice was still raspy from just waking up.  

“Um…” He tried to recollect his thoughts. “I came to… talk to you.” He mentally facepalmed at how lame that sounded, but Nico didn’t seem phased.

“What about? Did something happen?”

“No, no, I just want to- talk.”

Nico gave the healer a quick once over, looking confused and suspicious, before shrugging.

“Sure, whatever.” He moved back to let the boy passed. “But I’m warning you, the décor in here is… awful.”

Will let out a short laugh as he walked in, but then faltered when he saw the room. Nico hadn’t been kidding. The walls were a deep, pure black made from solid oblivion and lined with columns. The only light came from flickering green torches set up against the wall, setting a ghostly tint over everything.

“Is that a coffin?” Asked Will, after a second, glancing at the black and red bunks. Only one of them was clearly used, the blankets and pillows tossed haphazardly across it.

“Yep.”

“Wow.”

“I know.” Nico closed the door behind him. “I’m going to have to entirely redesign it at some point. What did you need?”

Will looked at him, taking in his rumpled, half open shirt and pants. “Have you just woken up?” He asked instead of answering, even though it was obvious that he had.

“I, uh, still have trouble sleeping.” Nico muttered. “Was that when you wanted to talk about?”

“What- Oh! No, I…” He shook his head slightly. “I was just thinking- don’t you think it’s time you got new clothes?”

“New clothes?” Repeated Nico, glancing down at himself.

“I just mean- you can’t wear the same shirt and pants for the rest of your life, y’know.”

Nico absolutely knew that, given that said shirt was a jarringly bright tropical number. “Why do you care about that?” He asked, which was a little harsher than he’d intended, but in his defence, he was still half asleep.

“I care because first of all, as entertaining as it is to look at, that t-shirt is garish,“ Will pointed out, gesturing at him, and Nico didn’t disagree. “And secondly, I’m your friend, and making your friend own more than one outfit that you also sleep in.”

Although at this specific point in time, Will kind of thought that was a good thing.

Nico sighed. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”

“I’m going to bring over some clothes for you to try on.” Said Will, simply. “And you can wear some of them until we manage to get out of here and do some shopping, though gods knows when that’ll be.”

Nico felt a pang of sympathy for the other boy. He’d been turning up at the infirmary at least once a day to help out, mostly by cutting bandages or helping write stuff down. It definitely wasn’t his favourite job, but recently, the impeding sensation of death had started to ease up, which was a relief. Will, on the other hand, spent nearly every moment of his day tending to patients, and only took breaks at all because his siblings forced him to go home and sleep.

Still, Nico felt a small feeling of warmth in his stomach when he realised that Will was deliberately using his one break to talk to him.

“I’m guessing I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” He asked, mostly for show.

“Nope.” Will grinned.

“In that case, sure.” He conceded with a shrug. “Just give me twenty minutes or so. I need to get ready.”

“Sure,” said Will, nodding. “I need to go grab some clothes anyway. I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”

“Great.” Nico held the door open as Will left. “See you then.”

#

Exactly twenty minutes later, Will knocked on Nico’s door again, a bag full of clothes in one hand. This time, the door opened immediately and Nico let him in. “Let’s get this over with.” He muttered, and Will felt a grin tugging at his lips. He was getting used to Nico’s grumpy comments.

“That’s the attitude I’m looking for!” He responded with an exaggeratedly happy tone, before dropping the bag onto one of the bottom bunks. Nico had clearly tried to clean up a little, since the top bunk was no kind of made (although he wouldn’t be getting any points on the inspection), and the boy himself had smoothed his hair down and adjusted his shirt properly.

Will tried not to be too disappointed with the lack of bedhead, and instead tossed a t-shirt at him. “Here.” Nico caught it instinctively, and then gave him a questioning glance. “Put it on.” Said Will, slowly and with emphasis.

“Now?”

“Why not?” Asked Will, and felt his cheeks heat up as he realised the implication. “I won’t look.” He added quickly.

Nico rolled his eyes, and Will turned around and flopped on the bed as he started to get changed, burying his face in a pillow.

Pulling off his Hawaiian-style shirt, Nico couldn’t help but be a little relieved. Aside from the fact that this gave him an excuse to hang out with Will (which he definitely didn’t care about), anything that meant he could get rid of his current outfit was a relief. He’d already adjusted to the brightness of it, but he couldn’t deny that not being able to change was kind of gross.

“Done.” He said, once he’d pulled the second t-shirt on.

Will peaked up cautiously. Seeing that he was, in fact, done, he rolled onto his side. The Camp Half-Blood shirt hung off him, clearly way too big. “Ah,” He said, doing a bad job at supressing a laugh. “I guess I’m a few sizes bigger than you.”

Nico gave him a look that seemed to say you think?, but then tugged at the material. “I don’t think orange is my colour.” He decided. Will was inclined to agree, but he didn’t, because there was something weirdly amusing about seeing Nico in bright colours.

“You look fine.” He said instead, reaching into the bag and tossing him another t-shirt. “Here.”

Nico changed again as Will buried his face back into the pillow, and frowned down at the shirt. “Done.”

Will turned back to him. The t-shirt was blue, with a lighter blue strip round the middle, and still clearly too big. “Do you not like it?” He asked, examining the boys face.

“It’s so bright.” He complained.

“It’s not bright, it’s blue. Stop whining.”

“Don’t you own anything in black?”

“Do I look like I usually wear black?”

He had a point there, much to Nico’s chagrin. “I look like an idiot.” He said, instead of admitting it. Will rolled his eyes.

“Shut up. You look cute.”

There was a beat before Will realised what he’d said, and Nico’s head snapped up so fast he was worried he got whiplash. He stared at the blonde in shock.

“Um.” Said Will, before realising he had absolutely no excuse. “I just mean, uh, you look good. In colours. That aren’t black.”

There was another pause. “Thank you?” Said Nico, after a few seconds, still looking stunned.

“Right,” said Will, seriously wishing the floor would swallow him whole. Normally, he could make those comments without blinking, but normally he didn’t actually like the person like that, and normally the person wasn’t Nico di Angelo. Mr Can’t-process-someone-saying-he-has-a-friendly-face di Angelo. “Um, I should go- I mean, there’s still t-shirts in the bag, which you can look through, but I should probably, um, leave-“

“Wait,” Nico frowned at him as he tried to edge towards the door, and Will stopped, even though it was taking all his willpower not to get anymore flustered right now. “You don’t have to leave. I mean, I don’t- this definitely doesn’t suit me, and I’m going to have to try on more clothes, so…” He trailed off awkwardly, but Will thought he got the point.

“I should stay to give you advice?” He suggested, lightly, and Nico nodded.

“Basically, yeah.”

Will tried not to show any of his relief on his face. “Okay. I mean, sure.” He made his way a little awkwardly back to the bed. “I have, like, another hour of my break left, I can stay.”

“Okay.” Said Nico, before pausing. “Do you, uh, happen to have any clothes that aren’t bright?”

“That shirt isn’t bright.” Muttered Will, but he scanned through the back anyway and pulled out a plain grey t-shirt. It was one of what he referred to as his ‘healer t-shirts’, which basically meant a t-shirt he didn’t mind getting gross when his surgeon shirts were covered in… anything. “How about grey?” He offered, holding it out.

“Good enough.” Said Nico, taking the t-shirt, and Will turned to bury his face back in the cushion. It felt like Nico had decided to pretend the cute comment hadn’t happened, which was a relief.

As he lay there, it occurred to him that maybe having Nico walking around in his clothes for the foreseeable future might actually be counterproductive, but he pushed that thought down with the butterflies in his stomach.

[rovvboat]

Painted Flaws - Colossus/Piotr Rasputin x villian!Reader

Part 1

A/N: i’m dead (in a good way) from writing this. Hope you enjoy from the bottom of my heart. A lot more to come! (this is also my first colossus smut uwu)

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: smut, n s f w 

Summary: You’re a villian with a moral grey area. You meet Piotr at an art exhibit, but both of you are there for completely different reasons. Though the attraction was inevitable, will it be enough? A growing passionate love wrought with secrecy, both of you try to move through this maze. But when the ball drops, what will you choose?

They all looked as pretentious as they were.

Prancing around, pretending to understand the art around them. As if they weren’t deliberately being conned by massive price inflation of seemingly valuable pieces. A bunch of rich snobs who could do better things with the money than hang it on their fucking wall in their private mansion and villas and– okay calm down. That’s not the priority here. You just have to look for the supplier, and make sure she gets the message.

You strode along the long hallways in your lace black long-sleeved, knee-length dress; complete with a cream clutch and pastel beige heels, and you undoubtedly got your fair share of stares from men and women alike. You didn’t look like the models on T.V., but you had your own allure that rendered you irresistible – much to your annoyance. On a normal day, you would prefer to dress a lot more like a hobo, just to keep yourself as much in the background as possible.

But on days like this, with these high-standing people, you had to put your best, charismatic-self out. And that means getting ogled at, but whatever.

You kept your eyes on every inch of the party, looking out for exit points and persons of interest. You had to judge every person you came into contact with, and for the most part they were all your standard issue snobs, with only a selective few who were genuinely interested in the art and artists. The other high-level celebrities were just there to hype up the party. It was a big event – but for you, it was important for an extremely different reason.

The supplier for today would make or break all future plans of The Hand, and it was pertinent for you to get the meeting set up with her.

After a few more moments of wandering, you spot a lady in a wheelchair, looking to be in her mid-40s with hair greying off at the edges; dressed in an elegant outfit of her own. Though she looked fragile, beneath that act lay an evil in its own right. The lady in question was your ‘’supplier’’, at least, that’s what you were told to call her ever since the beginning. You casually move towards her, but before you could make your presence known, two huge men in black suits, eyes covered by black visors, block your path. You stare them down, before showing them your business card – as if this wasn’t the thousandth time you’ve met with her. They inspect it and allow you past them, as you finally approach the lady.

‘’You look lovely, darling’’

You take her hand and kiss it, as is custom with her. ‘’I always look my best for the job. I can say the same about you.’’

She laughs heartily, ‘’Flattery will get you everywhere, love.’’ She motions for you to lean in, and you do.

‘’Tell me now, what is the important message I was supposed to receive?’’

‘’I’m sorry, I am not allowed to tell you here. But we have arranged for you to meet the Boss at midnight at a more private section of the gallery. If you wouldn’t mind, I could bring you to the room that we have arranged for you for the night. I’ve seen the place, and I can assure you that you will not be disappointed. May I bring you there personally?’’

‘‘Of course, darling. If that’s what you need to do.’’ She obliges.

You move to push her wheelchair, and before you do, you ask if she allows you to do so. She waves a hand granting permission. You slowly wheel her to the room, letting her take in the surrounding of the gallery and tell you about her long trip to New York, before allowing her to settle down in her private suite.

Once she was taken care of, you had the rest of the day, and you certainly did not want to spend it around these snobs. You walk along the string of the lesser coveted art pieces, bored out of your mind, when you hear a voice quip up from the end of the hallway. A large man was standing with a lady with short, styled hair by his side. They looked like they could siblings, from what you could tell.

They seemed very out of place in this gallery, though. He was a tall and brawny man, but he wasn’t dressed like a body guard, or a rich snobby collector – which raised some alarms.

Could he be a spy?

He’s wearing a navy-blue turtleneck with medium-khaki pants. He looked fashionable enough to seem like the artistic kind, but much too dressed down to be part of the target audience for this event. He was also at least 6 ft. tall, and you decided that those strong curves peeking out from under the sleeve fabric were definitely something worth investigating.

‘’Look NTW! This piece was made by one of the artists that inspired me when I first came to America. The use of colours is absolutely astound– ‘’ the man explains before he’s cut off.

The teenage girl next to him yawns. ‘’I’m sorry, Colossus. I’m just not an art person.’’

‘’Da. That is alright. You may go back to the mansion if this is not something you like. I just wanted for you to try something new, instead of being stuck inside all day.’’

‘’I think I’m going to go find Yukio, maybe she’ll be more interested in this than I am.’’ The girl pats him on the back and bids him farewell, walking past you to the exit.

You stride over towards the mysterious man, as he studies the details of the painting in front of him – even making sure to read the inscription on the plaques.

‘’I have never seen you around here before. Are you new?’’ You open. He jumps a little at your presence. He takes you in for a moment, his eyes wide. You smile and tilt your head at him, jolting him back to the conversation.

‘’Uh yes. I saw the sign outside about an art exhibit… and bought some tickets.’’ He responds in a thick accent – clearly Russian.

‘’You might have wandered too far from that particular art exhibit, my friend.’’ You point out. ‘’This one’s a little more of a… private event’’

‘’Oh, I am so sorry. I did not– ‘’

You laugh. ‘’Hey, it’s alright. If I’m being honest, out of everyone here, I think you probably deserve to be here the most. The rest of them… just look for prestige. Reputation is what matters to them, no matter how good the work might be. They might pretend to admire the work, but it’s all a game of who knows who.’’ You lament. He looks at you intently, curious about your thoughts of the art world.

You laugh again. ‘’I’m so sorry! It’s only been seconds since we’ve met and I’m already venting. Tell ya what, handsome. Since you had to listen to me be all negative about something you love, I’ll put your name on the guestlist, and you can spend the rest of the day admiring the artwork how it’s intended to be. The showcase ends tomorrow at 2am, so you can take your time and come back tomorrow as well.’’

‘’Oh no, I didn’t mind listening to you… I also think there are some things worth fixing in the community. But that is… very kind of you to put me on the guestlist. May I know your name?’’

‘’Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. And yours?’’

‘’Piotr. Piotr Rasputin.’’ He puts out a hand to you. You go for a handshake, and revel at how big his hands were.

‘’Nice to meet you, Piotr. Well, I have some time on my hands. Maybe I could show you around? I would love to hear your perspective on certain works as well. Would that be alright with you?’’

‘’To have a beautiful lady offer to escort me around this wonderful gallery, I would be a foolish man to say no.’’ He remarks. You giggle as you loop an arm around his.

You spend the rest of the day sticking close to him. You talk to him about art, all its intricacies and your general disdain for the insincere – before enquiring more about himself. Piotr tells you about how different things are here and talks about his time as a farm boy and how he’s always been interested in painting and drawing. The time passes far too quickly for either of your liking – before a tall, brawny man in an expensive-looking suit approaches you, with urgency in his steps. Piotr tenses, and moves to stand between you and the man, but you hold him back gently with a hand to his shoulder.

‘’It’s alright, Piotr. This is an associate of mine.’’ You tell him, turning to the tall man. ‘’Do you have any updates for me?’’ You ask, your face stoic and devoid of all the emotion that you freely showed when you were with Piotr, who watches your change in demeanor with intrigue.

The man moves close to your ear and whispers something, before a look of disappointment crosses your face.

‘’I’m so sorry, Piotr. I’m going to have to cut our private tour short. But you are welcome to enjoy yourself for the rest of your evening. It was a pleasure talking to you.’’ You say before shifting to make your way to the problem.

‘’Wait!’’ A hand reaches out to grasp you, stopping you in your tracks. ‘’I apologise if I was too rough, but… will I see you again?’’

You give him a sad smile. ‘’Maybe.’’ You could tell he was crestfallen – as he let go of your hand – at your response. But you had no time to be thinking about prospective relationships at the moment, especially not when your job was on the line. He was sweet. And amazing company. But it wouldn’t be worth your time if you weren’t going to pursue him in the long run. He probably deserves better anyway.

 After making a few calls, it turned out that the problem was that your Boss was caught up with a different matter, and because of that the meeting was postponed to midnight the next day; which only meant there was a whole day for you to focus on other areas of work. In the meantime, you ran some errands outside the gallery and returned the next day to make sure everything was going smoothly.

It had been a long day of checks and monitoring around the gallery, but your mind kept wandering to the man you met yesterday. Was he here today? You check your watch. It was already 11:50pm. You push your thoughts of the man away, and make your way to the meeting venue to ensure last minute checks.

As you walk down the long hallway, you spot a familiar figure – it was Piotr – studying the same artwork that he did the day before. From the back, you could tell he was dressed up for the venue this time around.

You wanted to approach him, but decided that would only serve to distract you. You got your priorities straight before making your way to the meeting.

 Everything went according to plan, and you finally exit the room an hour later and out into the main room. You look around, your eyes searching for the familiar build of the man whose face shows up whenever you had the time to daydream. His piercing blue eyes, crinkling as he laughs heartily at a joke you made, or wide-eyed at your explanations of how certain industries work.

You realized that unlike all the other sleazebags you were exposed to, he never once touched you without permission or tried to cop a feel, but would always apologise if he felt he was pushing it.

But, alas, he was no where to be found. You escort the remaining visitors out of the gallery as a security guard comes up to you.

‘’Thank you for the assistance, I think there is one more person who is still around the ‘Hues’ exhibition. He said he was waiting for someone so I left him alone. Not sure if he’s still around though.’’

‘’I’ll handle it. You go ahead and take off’’ You smile at the guard. He gives you a nod before wandering off.

Your heart quickened at the words of the guard, and your feet took off toward that particular exhibit.

Please be there. Please be there.

The words ring through your head – you felt as if life was giving you another chance. Your heels clink furiously on the floor, in sync with the thumping of your heart through your chest, as you gained ground towards the exhibit. Everything felt so terribly loud, and you felt like he was going to slip through your hands if you didn’t catch up to him on time – and thinking about it made your heart pump faster still.

You look at your watch – 1:12AM. There was no way he was still here. You stop abruptly at the doorway to the Hues exhibit, and your hopes start to fall. You try to regain your composure, when you look up in front of you.

And there he was, in the dimly lit section of the gallery, taking in the sight of one of your most favourite pieces. A deep relief washes over you, as you let out all your tension in a sigh.

He looks at the painting for a long time, eyes wide in awe, before leaning down closer – hands in his pockets – to read the inscription.  

The piece is one with a black background that slowly fades into lighter hues of grey then white, littered with smaller strokes of all the possible colours, but only in one of shade of each. The strokes form a spiral through to the medium grey in the middle – which ends off with a short vertical line of gold, and a horizontal line of silver – both of the same length – all of which came together to make it look like a telescope. It was a masterpiece in its own right – and you personally knew the artist behind the work.

‘’That’s a one-of-a-kind piece.’’ You say as you gracefully make your way into the smaller section of the gallery – meant for the best of the best works – as the sound of your stilettos against the marble flooring echoed through the room, catching Piotr’s attention; his head swivels around to catch your gaze, as you come to a stop next to him.

‘’It is… most beautiful.’’ He says, looking at you. You turn your head to him and smile.

‘’It’s nice to see you again, Piotr. What brings you here at 1am in the morning? And dressed to the nines, might I add. You look even better than you did yesterday.’’ You remark, as he gives you a shy smile in return – the blush on his cheeks stark against skin. You can’t help but want to eat him up. But before he responds, an ideas pops into your head.

‘’C’mon, I want to show you something,’’ you grab his wrist and tug him along behind you. You guide him up the steps behind the curtains at the very end of the room that has a ‘’restricted access’’ sign prominently hung on it.

‘’Are you sure we are allowed back here?’’ Piotr whispers to you, lowering himself to make sure that you could hear him. You laugh in response, but continue tugging him deeper into the studio.

Once you arrive at your destination, you walk over to the far wall and flip a heavy switch with a loud chunk. Lights buzz open to reveal an art studio with high ceilings and exquisite furnishing – fit for only, one could imagine, the ‘’royals’’ of the art world.

Beyond the small lounging area, there is a huge floor-to-ceiling length window which overlooks onto the front entrance of the art gallery, placed adjacent to a small area with tall shelves that also reached the ceiling. They held every colour you could ever imagine. Further into the room there were smaller windows, all made to adjustable to ensure that the lighting was always constant in the room. These windows faced the canvases and easels that were in the room – which were placed in a circular arrangement facing away from each other.

‘’This all looks so… fancy. And professional. Does this studio belong to you?’’ Piotr asks, awe-struck as he runs his hand along all the cases containing all the different paint colours.

‘’No. I’m not an artist, but I remember you told me yesterday that you were. This belongs to the painter of the piece you were looking at from before. And this– ‘’ you wave an arm as if to present the room to him– ‘’is where all the magic happens.’’ You say proudly, perched on the edge of the sofa. You look up to see Piotr, who’s now walking towards you. He looks like he has something to ask you. You tilt your head – your heart beat picks up again – and you straighten up to show that you’re listening. ‘’Got something on your mind, Piotr?’’

He gets close to you, and all of a sudden, his face is against yours, noses brushing past, as you melt under him – his lips eagerly meeting yours. You stand up to deepen the kiss, as his hand holds one side of your face.

He pulls away abruptly, but still looking at you with hooded eyes – the intensity of his gaze absolutely driving you wild.

‘’I am sorry to be so forward. But I… I could not stop thinking about you.’’ He breathes heavy.

‘’Me neither.’’

You let your palms run over his chest before tugging at his black tie, pulling him back into a kiss.

A few moments pass and you push him back, breaking the kiss abruptly. You stare at him, your eyes needy, as you walk towards him. You push him a little more and he relents, until his back is against the wall.

You push against him, your lips meeting his with an insatiable hunger – the warmth of your lips follow, inching down to his neck as his face lifts up to allow your presence; sucking and nibbling, leaving loving bruises in your wake. You unbutton his shirt, one by one – untucking it from his pants – leaving his bare chest exposed. You lift your face back up to kiss him. He pulls your face closer to deepen the kiss still; your tongues, impatient, gently get a taste of each other.

Your hands wander over every perfect line of his physique as you kiss – yearning to feel every part of him against you – as they finally loop around his neck to bring your body closer to his. He lowers his hands to your waist, holding you close, before slowly letting them trail down – grazing over your ass and gently caressing it. The sudden action causing you to moan against him.

Your hand moves down to his crotch – feeling up his stiff member through the fabric. You hear a sharp inhale from him, as you rub your palm up and down against his hard on. A shaky breath escapes him.

You gently push yourself away, and shift to get down on your knees – before Piotr’s hands hold up your shoulders, stopping you from moving down.

‘’I… would prefer to take you out to dinner first…’’ He says, somewhat sheepishly. You smirk at him. What a sweetheart.

You lean in close to him. ‘’Tell ya what big guy,’’ you say slowly, painstakingly trail a finger down his chest, ‘’we can do dinner after this. How’s that sound?’’ You whisper slowly into his ear. If he wasn’t on edge before, he sure as hell was now.

He puts his hands back down to his side, as you move to your intended position. You unzip his pants, his length springing up as you tease his cock; pumping it from base to tip, as you bring it out in all its glory.

Suddenly, the lights go out, engulfing the room with a dull blue glow, courtesy of the windows. Piotr jumps a little at that and looks up around him – clearly tense.

‘’Hey, don’t worry. They’re automatic lights with sensors.’’ You reassured him. ‘’Besides, we’re not gonna need so much light now, are we?’’

You get to work, holding his cock in your hand, and licking up its length. Once at his tip, you let your saliva pool in your mouth, before bringing his dick close – getting it nice and fully wet with your tongue, your saliva covering every inch of him. You tease his head, swirling over it with your tongue before using the pad of your thumb to swipe over his slit. ‘’Bozhe moi…’’ Piotr hisses in response, which tells you everything you need to know.

You open your mouth wide, and slowly take him in. You were only halfway down his shaft before he hit the back of your mouth. You slowly retract before going in again. And again. And again. Piotr’s breathing hard and raspy, peppered with stifled moans as your mouth moves up and down – your hand trailing behind, as your grip tightens and untightens – stimulating him to no end.

He brings a hand to your head, following your pace, then urging you forward into a quicker rhythm. You wanted to take all of him in, and knew that he wanted that too. You gaped wider to allow more of his length into you. He let out an exasperated breath in response, his head up; eyes closed, facing heavenward in a silent prayer.

His cock was now past the back, and inside your throat. You knew how to keep a gag reflex down, and it was especially helpful in this situation.

You quickened your rhythm, moving up and down his length with ease – releasing him from your mouth at one instance with a loud ‘pop’ and giving him a few strokes with your hand – before going right back into it. You pressed your tongue against his cock at each move. He hisses at the sensations, following them immediately with moans, before suddenly pushing his dick into you in a swift motion – as you take him in deep – but he quickly pulls out. You hold onto his cock with a hand, and let his release pump into your mouth, tongue out and flared to get every drop of him. You lick his head of residual cum – and once it’s over – he moves to get his composure in check, and is dressed up in seconds.

You lick your lips and swallow, before you give Piotr a satisfied smile.

All of a sudden, he kneels before you, both of you now at eye-level. You look at him quizzically.

‘’It is not in my nature to let myself be pleasured and not return the favour. Please. Allow me.’’ He asks, a different kind of need in his voice. Your lips curve into a smile.

‘’If you insist.’’

He sits down with his back against the wall, and pulls you onto his lap, letting your head rest against his shoulder. He hitches up your dress, before running his finger down the fabric of your panties. He places a hand under you as he gently pries your legs open, slowly running it up and down your inner thigh in the process. Your face scrunches up as you feel the growing arousal in your core. He brings his lips next to your ear, a string of Russian escaping him in a heavy breath.

‘’I don’t know what you’re saying, but keep saying it.’’ You whine as he starts putting pressure all around your sensitive spots – two fingers moving up and down over your entrance.

‘’I said… Just relax for me, I will take care of you.’’ He quickens his motions, before placing his finger directly over your clit. He presses down, and a deep moan emerges from you against his ear. He continues, circling over it – pressing down every time he hits full circle. You try your best to contain your pleasure, but with no such luck. Your grasp at his free arm to ease off the pressure and put a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans.

He realises he’s found your most pleasurable spot, focusing entirely on the bundle of nerves that’s driving you insane – with each movement of his finger eliciting moans of alternating pitch. You bite your lip before your head tilts back abruptly, mouth open wide, threatening to release a much-too-loud indication of pleasure. Piotr quickly brings a hand over your mouth, as you moan into it, dampening the sounds of utter pleasure coming out from your mouth. He slows down his actions, but doesn’t let up. He moves his finger closer to your core, shifting your panties aside to gain access, before pushing in slowly.

One… two fingers in, as he pulses into your pussy – which had been aching for this very moment. You were already wet all over. Panties soaked, but he’s still at it.

A little bit of you flows down your thighs, and onto the fabric of his pants. But he didn’t seem to mind.  He pushes deeper into you before adding one more finger – now three – while using his other hand to stimulate your clit, edging you into climax. You use your hand to shield your mouth – you knew you were close, and didn’t want a repeat of what happened before. ‘’Piotr…’’ you whine, ‘’I’m so close, baby. Take me home.’’

‘’kak pozhelayete.’’ (As you wish) he breathes into your ear.

He picks up speed, drawing circles onto your clit with just the right amount of pressure that makes you squirm on his lap – his fingers still moving in and out inside you. You twist your upper body to face him and draw him into a deep, fiery kiss, just as the orgasm found you.

The sweet sensation of release flows down your core, as you throw your head back onto Piotr’s shoulder, holding on tightly to his arm as the climax takes over you. He holds you still with a hand around your waist, as your body trembles through the sensation, and removes his fingers from inside you.

Heavy pants fall from your mouth, as you turn around to face him, straddling over his lap.

‘’That was… I’m sorry if it was…‘’ He begins.

You interrupt him with a kiss, softly placing a hand on his cheek, hooking the other arm over his neck – keeping him close. He instinctively brings his hands up to your waist.

‘’Don’t be sorry, babe. I enjoyed it… enjoyed you.’’ You say as you pull away from the kiss.

You gaze into each other, as time stood still around you, with only the dancing lights from the headlights of cars and streetlamps from outside world to illuminate the moment in its familiar dull blue glow.

For the first time, you notice just how serene his blue eyes look – and the dim lighting did nothing to impede their beauty. What was more bewitching was the person they belonged to – you could feel the warmth that this man exuded, and it made you feel magnetised to him; like you didn’t want this moment to end. This was bad. You weren’t meant to have anyone for the long term – one night, one timers were more suited to your lifestyle, but you didn’t know if you wanted to let go of a man like him.

 ‘’When can I see you again?’’

His deep, raspy voice breaks the train of your thoughts, and now you’re here again in this moment.

‘’Oh, um… yeah I…’’ You preemptively look at your watch. ‘’Let’s get you out of here first.’’

You walk him back to the entrance of the art gallery. Debating whether it would be worth the trouble to move forward with him. You think about your Boss, and a deep hatred is lit within you.

Piotr’s eyes linger over you, as you both make your way out onto the driveway. It was a cold night, and just as you bring your hands up to brace yourself from the cold, Piotr immediately put his jacket –  (when did he take it off?) – over you. With that one action, you had your mind made up for you.

You smile tenderly at him. ‘’Piotr?’’

‘’Yes?’’ All his attention was on you at this moment. A rush of adrenaline pushes through him as he awaits your next words.

‘’I’m free next weekend. Is that alright? I’ll give you my phone number, and we can work out the details later.’’

‘’That sounds perfect, Y/N.’’

Just as he responds, you hear the sound of gravel popping, followed by a pulling screech, as a cab arrives at the driveway. He holds your gaze for a moment, moving to open the door. You pull him back and give him a kiss on the cheek, before walking briskly away from the driveway; leaving Piotr to watch as your figure disappears back into the gallery.