#how asian girls greet black men

[asiangirlsrockit]

Alice Kisaki (希咲アリス)

[justanisabelakinnie]

OMG I HAVE LITERALLY BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! YAY!!! 😍

Anyway, listen guys. I love Mean Girls. It means(pun not intended) a lot to me. I was literally born the year it came out, so I like to joke that it is the same age as me. I also love the memes and quotes that came from the film, and even own a Mean Girls shirt that I wear on Wednesdays and every October 3rd. It is LITERALLY one of my top five movies of all time! Seriously, you guys don’t understand how much I fucking LOVE this movie. It is, like, SO FETCH!!!(sorry I just had to lol) However, as much as I love it, and as much as I appreciate its genuine attempts to expose and deconstruct the internalized misogyny that permeates high school and the way that girls are pitted against each other, I still have to admit…it does not like women. Or at least, it doesn’t like women who aren’t white, cishet, gender conforming, slim, and conventionally attractive, and sometimes, I’m not even sure it likes them either. And let me explain why.

To start, there’s the movie’s horrid portrayal of women of color. All the main characters are skinny, cishet, attractive white women. And what few women of color exists are only negative, racist, stereotypical caricatures. There are the unfriendly Black hotties, who are all lightskin and whom Cady greets by saying “Jambo”, there’s the “I’m from Michigan” girl whom Ms. Norbury assumes is from Africa for no apparent reason, and worst of all, there are the “Cool Asian” girls who sleep with the white gym coach and fight over him, which contributes to the sexualization of Asian women for the pleasure of white men. It’s quite ironic that this movie is supposed to be all about how girls shouldn’t fight over a guy, which it rightfully shows as wrong and takes seriously with the two lead white girls(Regina and Cady), but then it boils down the two Asian girls as catty, slutty bitches who fight over a white guy and plays this for laughs. One of them is even wrongly quoted as saying the n-word in the subtitles, and the movie is full of racist jokes like this in general. And when Gretchen joins the group at the end of the movie, she speaks fake Vietnamese, which is of course, played for laughs as well. There’s also a later scene in the movie where Kevin gently turns Cady down by saying “I only date women of color” and this is played for laughs, as if the idea that a man(even a man of color) would choose a woman of color as more desirable than a white woman is ridiculous and worthy of mockery. Yes, Gretchen is also portrayed as being manipulated by a skeezy guy, Karen is a “slut” who kisses her cousin, and Regina has sex with Shane Oman, but none of them are reduced to these traits the way Trang Pak and the other Cool Asian girls are, and even if they were, white girls are still widely seen as more pure and attractive and worthy of protection than girls of color, so it would still be worse for the Cool Asians. While I’m glad that the story shows that Coach Carr was a predator by having Principal Duvall say “step away from the underage girls” it’s still played for laughs, and the movie doesn’t give Coach Carr any comeuppance(and no, him fleeing school property isn’t comeuppance, I want to see him get arrested and imprisoned), which I will address further later. If Coach Carr was preying on white girls, I bet the movie would have taken it much more seriously, but because girls of color are innately sexual, they are open to being sexually abused and exploited, according to this movie. Also, Janis is Lebanese despite her actress being a white woman. In the world of Mean Girls, white girls are beautiful, the feminine ideal, and prized, while girls of color are just vapid sluts, wannabe icons, and pushed off to the background. And this is a “fact” that is never once contested, and as a Black girl, that irritates me.

Next there is the horrible lesbophobia. The entire movie relies on the fact that Regina excluded and ostracized Janis for being a lesbian, and now Janis wants revenge, so she uses Cady to ruin Regina’s life and get that revenge. This is not a problem, as it realistically shows how homophobia was a thing in the past and how lesbians and other gay people get excluded and isolated for their sexuality…or at least it would be if Janis was actually a lesbian. But at the end of the movie there’s a random scene where Janis is making out with Kevin, for literally no reason other than shock value. Because of this, the movie gives the impression that bullying a girl for being a lesbian is bad because she might actually turn out to be straight, implying that being a lesbian is the worst thing a girl could ever be. Which is so fucking disappointing because this movie which is supposedly all about female solidarity and how girls shouldn’t cat fight could have sent a message that you shouldn’t treat lesbians like predators or weirdos or outcasts just because they like girls, and that girls should accept other girls regardless of their sexuality. But instead of telling the audience that you shouldn’t bully girls for being gay because it’s wrong to treat being a lesbian as a bad thing, it instead sends the message that you shouldn’t bully girls for being gay because being gay actually IS a bad thing, and you shouldn’t call a girl gay when she isn’t. The scene where Janis kisses Kevin does not even affect the plot. It only exists to assure the audience that “phew, it turns out she’s straight after all!” and ensure that she’s still sympathetic because she’s not actually a nasty lesbian…but what if she was one? Would that really be so bad? Would that justify the Plastics bullying and ostracizing her? Would that make her deserve to become an outcast? Apparently so.

This is a perfect example of queerbaiting. If you’re gonna have a female character who is gender-non-conforming, is ostracized for being a lesbian, hangs out with an effeminate openly gay guy along with a bunch of “art freaks” and no one else, reacts with disgust after kissing that gay guy(who is likewise disgusted for obvious reasons), and is literally NAMED after a lesbian singer, then you’d better do the common sense thing and actually make her a lesbian. The movie constantly shows being a lesbian as the worst thing you could be and the worst insult that you could ever call someone, especially in the big climax scene where Cady snaps and tells Janis that it’s not her fault that Janis is in love with her, which is supposed to show that Cady has really crossed the line, but would have been much more effective if Janis was actually a lesbian, rather than it just being a rumor.

And if you’re one of those people who’s just gonna go “but the whole point is that they only thought she was a lesbian because she’s masculine, wouldn’t that be an unfair stereotype???” Hello, feminine lesbian here. Masculine lesbians still exist, and they are frequently underrepresented in media because people think it is somehow more “progressive” to have a masc female character “subvert stereotypes” by making up for her masculinity and still being romantically available to men. And secondly, there is more to Janis’ lesbian coding than just her not being hyperfeminine, as I said above. They literally named her after a real-life lesbian for God’s sake and her best friend is a gay man(because of course the two queer outcasts at school would find each other). It’s just queerbaiting at this point to make her so heavily lesbian-coded but not an actual lesbian. It’s like the movie was mocking those who might think she’s a lesbian by aggressively forcing her to be straight. It’s irritating and it’s painful. And if you still think that I am making this up and that the movie does not treat being a lesbian as a bad thing, there is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it scene during the Halloween party where Cady sees two random girls making out…and looks at them in disgust. This is never touched on again or called out by the narrative, so the intention is clear that the movie just wants us to think “two girls kissing? Ew, gross! Good thing Janis isn’t one, right?”

But while the movie does characterize masculine women poorly, it also does something similar to feminine women. The movie falls into the typical trap of associating femininity with vapidity, shallowness, materialism, vanity, and meanness. Regina’s redemption is associated with her playing hyper-aggressive sports which is often seen as more traditionally masculine(which I don’t personally agree with but the movie does portray it as such), while Karen and Gretchen stay an idiot and a shallow sycophant respectively, Cady becomes more and more feminine the meaner she becomes, and at the end of the movie she is shown dressing like her old self, but more fashionably. Now, I don’t think that the movie completely shows femininity in a bad light, considering that the Plastics, even after they break up, are still feminine, but I do think that it associates femininity more with being less sympathetic and smart. Especially since near the end of the movie, Janis angrily calls out Cady for being a mean girl, which would be fine if not for the fact that the movie completely glosses over the fact that Janis was also a mean girl as well, and portrays her as totally in the right. When Cady rightfully points out that Janis was also involved in this, Janis ignores it and blames solely Cady, and the movie encourages us to agree with her.

Near the end, during the dance, Cady apologizes to Janis, who snidely asks her if she’s still an asshole, which is teeth-grinding when you remember that Janis was ALSO an asshole, while the movie blames solely Cady for being a mean girl, and never Janis. The entire point of the movie is that all of the girls are mean girls, and here the narrative only blames the Plastics for being mean because they are popular and girlier, while pretending that everything Janis did was entirely justified and acceptable because she is more tomboyish and an outcast. And this isn’t me defending the Plastics, or saying that Janis deserved to be an outcast. But the movie should have held them ALL accountable, and not heralded Janis as a badass hero and an underdog throughout, when the point should have been that NONE of the girls were in the right, not even Janis.

So with that out of the way, even with all its flaws representation-wise, the movie still does a good job of showing toxic teenage girl culture and how girls shouldn’t be pit against each other, right? Except…no. It doesn’t. The movie fails to deliver its main message that teenage girls shouldn’t be in competition with each other, because it fails to properly examine WHY girls are pressured to compete with and undermine each other, and does nothing to critique the patriarchal society we live in that tells women to hate each other, fight over men, slut-shame each other, etc. none of the male characters are shown facing any comeuppance for how they treat the girls and women in the story, Jason isn’t shown learning to be a better person and respect Gretchen, Coach Carr, as said above, gets away scot-free with grooming and quite possibly raping two underage girls, Regina’s dad is barely in her life(though he does show sadness and disapproval at her actions), and the other male characters aren’t shown as being sexist or held responsible for any misogyny or leading the girls to have any internalized misogyny at all. This movie doesn’t show any of the social forces, or the types of sexist messages from men, that would lead girls to do things like backstab each other for boys, compete for male attention, dumb themselves down to not intimidate men, or develop eating disorders. Instead, the movie simply blames the women themselves and acts as if girls act this way just because, or because they feel like it, which sends the accidental message that girls act this way because they’re naturally catty and bitchy and competitive towards each other. Instead of saying “girls feel pressured to fight each other because guys compare them or tell them that they are less than” or something like it, the movie merely asserts that “girls need to stop catfighting and acting petty and cruel and sneaky all the damn time”. It acts like girls are just that bitchy and insecure and constantly crave male validation because that’s simply how girls are, not because society engineers and pressures them to be that way.

One thing I really can’t stand is that popular quote from Ms. Norbury that goes “you guys have got to stop calling each other sluts and whores! It just makes it okay for guys to call you sluts and whores!” And how everybody in the fandom praises and celebrates that line and acts like it’s totally revolutionary and empowering. When all it does is imply that men being sexist to women is women’s own fault and something that they brought upon themselves through their actions. It’s victim-blamey “men respect women who respect themselves” type bullshit. It pins the blame of internalized misogyny onto women themselves and acts like we’re the ones who chose to pit women against each other, when in reality it is MEN who pit women against each other, leading to some women internalizing that.

In addition, the scene where Cady is told by Ms. Norbury “you don’t have to dumb yourself down to get guys to like you” would have been more meaningful if the movie actually showed why Cady does think that, like having a guy tell Cady that smart women are unattractive or that she’s intimidating men by being too good at math and no guy will dare date her because of it, leading to her thinking it’s true because she’s naïve and doesn’t know any better. The same is true for the Plastics looking in a mirror and hating themselves, Regina being obsessed with staying skinny, and Regina’s mom having breast implants(which the movie also makes fun of, by the way 😒). But the movie doesn’t show any of that. The closest it comes to that is showing Regina’s little sister Kylie dancing to an inappropriate music video on TV, but she’s so unimportant that it means nothing in the grand scheme of things(and also…it’s played for laughs once more. Sigh). Once again, the blame is placed entirely on the women themselves for acting this way. It’s not like society’s messages breed internalized misogyny in women, no, it’s just natural, that’s just how women are. Women, amirite? Bitches be crazy. #JustGirlyThings. It’s gross.

Once again, Mean Girls is a fun movie. It’s fabulous, it’s fierce, it’s iconic, it has amazing costume and set design and dialogue and an incredible banger soundtrack. And it has great female characters, too! In the main cast, at least. And I love each and every single one of them to death! But is it a feminist film? No way, honey. Nuh-uh. Not in the slightest. I know that this review sounds like I am hating on Mean Girls, but I genuinely do enjoy it. And I genuinely do also think that it really did try to send a feminist message about female friendships and solidarity. It was, after all, inspired by a parental self-help book called Queen Bees and Wannabes, which is all about female social hierarchies in high school. But unfortunately, it fumbled the bag, not just because it failed at its core message, but because of how it writes all types of women negatively, as I stated above. You can adore something and acknowledge its flaws. You can love a work and admit that it’s not perfect. You can enjoy a story without it being the most progressive and revolutionary think piece ever and you’re not less open-minded for loving it. But you still gotta be honest with yourself. And so do I.

I suppose that, for me, Mean Girls would be placed in the “it thinks it likes women, it WANTS to like women, but it doesn’t” category. Because that’s where it belongs. It tries so hard to be a feminist film, but it’s overshadowed by white feminism, lesbophobia, racialized misogyny, and a whole host of other things that prevent it from being the feminist groundbreaker that it tries to be. It’s not as bad as the Barbie movie, but irs still pretty bad. So despite my deep and sincere love for this movie, I can’t in good faith vote yes. Mean Girls thinks it likes women, it wants to like women, but it does not. It especially doesn’t like women like me, probably because it doesn’t consider women like me to be worthy of being liked, or as anything other than a caricature or a negative example of what to avoid. And that’s just a fact that I have to accept. 😞

Does Mean Girls (the movie) like women?

Mean Girld (Film, 2004)

Explain your reasoning in the tags!

[rangeminmax]

Good copy chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Serpent's Gambit - Il Velenoso Reptilio

Growing up, people always told me I had a thing for girls. I can't forget the way they spoke about it, as if it was a spell I cast on them. My mother, with her words always wrapped in a motherly tone, often recounted how I fearlessly approached girls and kissed them, often without any prior introduction. I held no reservations; I was the fearless explorer of affection.

My playground of choice was the vicinity of Footscray Primary School. Here, on the benches beside the school's sturdy fence, I forged my early friendships with girls. There, the seeds of companionship were sown, and the whispers of childhood secrets filled the air.

One day, an adult, perhaps motivated by their own mysterious wisdom, imparted a curious piece of advice. They told me to emulate the existence of a prison inmate, to walk the path of confinement even though I was within the school's bounds. "Cut laps," they urged, as if it were the key to evading the relentless bullies who tormented me. Oddly, their counsel worked like a charm, casting a mystic shield around me. The bullies, like shadowy specters, retreated into the depths of their doubts. The other kids noticed me; it was as if I had harnessed a magical incantation.

Despite my newfound alliance with the boys who once eluded me, I remained drawn to the girls, my first comrades in this bewildering world. They held a unique allure, and even as popularity among boys beckoned, my heart still gravitated towards those first friendships.

Then came the incident that etched itself into my memory. A game among children, innocent yet tinged with mischief, led to a girl's skirt being lifted. She, in a daring manner, urged me to elevate it further. I complied, like an unwitting accomplice in a childish caper. Suddenly, like a thunderstorm on a clear day, the teacher descended upon us, her words striking like lightning. Her sternness forced me to confront the gravity of my actions. Even as I returned to my terrace residence, greeted by approving adult men offering a barrage of congratulatory dead arms and affirmations of "Well done," my mother wore a somber expression. She banished me to my room, a form of silent reproach, and possibly a suspension.

Fast forward to a different chapter of my life, and we find ourselves in the bustling market. As I stood there, it became evident that the Don had orchestrated an elaborate jest with a Chinese or Vietnamese family. Their daughter was cast in the role of Eve from the timeless tale of Adam and Eve. With her Asian features, raven-black hair, and a pristine white dress adorned with a ribbon in her hair, she exuded an ethereal charm. A tiny brown dot, not a mole but a beauty spot, adorned her cheek. She was the epitome of grace and allure. In my mind, I bestowed upon her the name 'Karma' since her true name eluded me, and I sensed this name would hold significance as our story unfolded.

Karma, with an apple in hand, called out to me, mirroring the age-old temptation in the Garden of Eden. The bats fluttered overhead, their dark wings casting eerie shadows that seemed to whisper ancient secrets. My old teddy bear, a steadfast companion, remained firmly clutched in my hand, as if it were a guardian in this enigmatic realm.

The market enveloped us in a sensory symphony. The air was saturated with the intoxicating aroma of fruits, their sweetness tantalizingly potent. Amidst this olfactory dance, a faint whiff of overripe fruit lingered, teasing the senses with a hint of decay. The shadows, cast by the rhythmic dance of forklifts, assumed identities as varied as the pages of a surreal playbill - the Phantom's Embrace, the Midnight Waltz, and the Dusky Minuet.

My hesitation to accept the apple was not born of ignorance but rather an awareness that this was another of the Don's jests. I knew the Don and the families were hidden somewhere in the complex, orchestrating this elaborate charade, perhaps laughing heartily at my expense. In the end, I did take the apple, yet I couldn't bring myself to eat it. There was an undeniable symbolism in that moment, a weight I couldn't ignore. If fate had destined me to eat an apple, it would have been a different one. The destiny of that particular apple remained a mystery, lost in the labyrinthine shadows of the market.

Another week had passed, and the opportunity to visit the market had presented itself once more. The mere prospect of going filled me with an electric excitement. Stepping into the market was like entering a realm where possibilities knew no bounds. It was a place where I could almost reach out and touch the elusive shadows that wove their intricate tapestry, a dance of silhouettes and shapes that defied definition.

As was my custom, I perched upon my trusty crate, staking my claim on the familiar spot. From there, I observed the Don as he conducted his rounds, a master orchestrating his clandestine symphony. The buzzing in my veins grew stronger, an unspoken yearning to be a part of this enigmatic world.

Bolstered by a newfound confidence, I leaped off the crate and approached the Don. With a determination that bordered on audacity, I offered my services. I was willing to work for him, to undertake any task he deemed fit. However, his response caught me off guard.

He brought up the incident from our previous encounter, the moment when I inadvertently snitched on him. I stammered, pleading ignorance, but he dismissed my concerns. His enigmatic demeanor hinted at a mysterious plan in motion.

Undeterred, I pressed on, eager to prove my worth. I mentioned my ability to handle John's job, driving the forklift. I regaled them with stories of how John had taught me during lunch breaks, performing reckless wheelies across the car park where the morning truckloads awaited. Laughter erupted from the Don and his companion, the one in the Raiders cap, an enigmatic figure in his own right. He wasn't an employee but more of an aide, exempt from the obligation to wear the high-visibility clothing that marked the others.

The Don's amusement resonated through the market, echoing in the shadows. And then, the Don, with a twinkle in his eye, proposed a daring challenge. There, beside us, sat a forklift, its forks pointing towards a pallet laden with apples, a mere ten meters away. He challenged me to pick up the crate and transport it to another section of the market, a task that appeared deceptively simple.

Fuelled by ambition and a touch of recklessness, I clambered onto the forklift, eager to prove myself. In my haste, I neglected to adjust the forks, leaving them perilously close to the ground. I revved the engine and, with my feet barely reaching the pedals, I lurched forward. The forklift bucked like a wild stallion, and I, standing with my head practically touching the ceiling wheel, clung to the controls.

Chaos ensued as I lost control from the very start, the forklift careening into the stack of apple crates with a resounding crash. Apples tumbled out of the shattered boxes, littering the floor like fallen soldiers on a chaotic battlefield. My head took a bump as it collided with the steering wheel, but I played it cool, brushing myself off as I dismounted from the forklift.

The market now had a new spectacle: a heap of apples scattered across the floor. But instead of anger or reproach, the Don's laughter echoed through the market. He laughed, hearty and unrestrained, joined by the Raiders cap-wearing companion and a few other onlookers who had witnessed my escapade.

As I glanced at the apples strewn about, I couldn't help but wonder if there was more to this situation than met the eye. The Don had declined my offer to pick up the fallen apples, suggesting that others would handle the cleanup. In this world of shadows and subterfuge, even a mishap like this could serve a clandestine purpose, a layer in the intricate tapestry of money laundering and covert operations.

The night, like a vast cloak of obsidian, descended upon the market, casting its dominion over all. Dawn lingered on the fringes, a distant promise yet unfulfilled. It was a realm betwixt worlds, and as I stood there, I could feel myself teetering on the precipice of dreams. But then, a presence materialized, emerging from the very shadows that clung to the market's periphery. It was the Don, a figure draped in an air of enigmatic authority, his presence amplified by the man with the Raiders hat who stood beside him. Together, they brought with them an eerie gangster vibe that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the night.

The Don's voice, sharp as a dagger's edge, cleaved through the night's stillness, an imperious demand for my attention. "What brings you here? Do you still yearn to work for me?" His words lingered in the air like tendrils of mist. Without a moment's hesitation, I replied, my resolve unwavering, "Of course, I stand ready. What task requires my hand?"

In response, the Don gestured for me to follow, initiating a journey that wove through the labyrinthine market. We traversed alleys veiled in shadow, the very essence of secrecy and intrigue. Our path led us toward the market's outermost fringes, to an exterior shed concealed beyond the confines of the car park. Here, barriers akin to colossal concrete sentinels stood sentinel, fortifications that we nimbly vaulted over. Each leap felt like a dance with the night, evoking the prowess of a seasoned outlaw, all while my Raiders hat-clad companion marveled at my agility.

As our daring escapade unfolded, I found myself revealing a hidden facet of my identity that sent ripples through the night's tapestry. The Don, his curiosity piqued, delved into my family history, prompting me to disclose that my father bore the name Michael Kelly. I uttered it with reverence, and their reactions mirrored a profound revelation, as though they had glimpsed a spectral figure from days gone by.

The Don, in an attempt to connect the dots, mentioned a certain John as my father. With a sly grin, I corrected this misunderstanding, asserting, "I am James Kelly. Michael Kelly is my father." Understanding descended upon them, and I seized the moment to beseech the Don, "Can you help me locate my estranged father?"

Approaching the twin door sheds, our odyssey led us to a cryptic threshold. Here, the Don produced a jingling set of keys, like a sorcerer revealing his arcane implements, and with practiced hands, he removed the heavy padlock barring our way. The gate swung open, granting us passage.

The shed loomed ahead, a realm veiled in darkness and steeped in the pungent aroma of decaying fruits and vegetables. The scent, a cocktail of spoiled produce, hung in the air, a reminder of the sort of cargo one dare not carry on public transport in Vietnam. Within these shadowed confines, discarded remnants of food created a haunting tableau, where bags and beans intermingled with the ghosts of culinary delights.

My mission was laid bare before me — to recover a bag concealed within this sprawling abyss. To reach it, I had to navigate a treacherous path, where broken pallets and bins laden with rotting fruit lay strewn like the wreckage of forgotten dreams. Following in the footsteps of past explorers, I ventured forth, guided by a faint trail. Yet, before I embarked on this perilous journey, the Don issued a chilling warning, one that invoked the very essence of the shadows we navigated.

He spoke of infamous snakes, guardians of these forsaken bags. Their venomous bite was a dire consequence for any who dared to trespass upon this kingdom of discarded delights. It was a treacherous haven, where rats, mice, bandicoots, rabbits, and bats were drawn to the promise of nourishment, only to face the wrath of these serpentine sentinels.

Undeterred, I ventured deeper into the abyss, my senses attuned to the shadows that enveloped me. The bag, a repository brimming with bricks, beckoned, its weight a testament to my commitment. As I shouldered the burden, it felt like an unspoken pact forged in the very heart of the night. With the bag in hand, I retraced my steps through the eerie shed, emerging from its depths like a lone wanderer returning from the abyss. My mission was complete, and I presented the bag to the Don, its contents a mysterious secret held in the palm of my hand.

[ladyeliot]

Fragile [2/3]

Part One

Based on The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Who would have thought that fate would bring you face to face with your father's killer? 13 years old, an orphan girl who was taken under the protection of the United States, who was educated to serve the nation and who was now assigned by the CIA to guard what was once one of the most dangerous men in the world.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, psychological problems, violence.

Word count: 3981

A/N: Post Endgame. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

The city of sin is empty, and so are you. There is no one around you to judge you. The rhythm of their heartbeat seems to take over your body, it seems to lure you into the darkness, into which you have already entered. You have been alone for so long that you can barely remember when you felt a caress. The lights seem to blind you as they fall on your skin through the window panes, you can't see clearly where you're going, or what your next move is going to be, but there's something that grabs you, that compels you to kiss his skin. You look into his eyes, offering yourself, inviting him to love you. You look around you, drowning in the night, but there he is, the only person who can ignite you with a caress.

The Japanese restaurant across the street from your building was the place selected for the date that Bucky had worked so hard to set you up with, but after you saw him show up on your doorstep with the most charming bouquet of orange tulips you'd ever seen in your life you didn't care where he planned to take you. The place was quite popular in the neighbourhood, so that night most of the tables were packed with diners, a fact that seemed to make your companion uncomfortable as you walked into the establishment.

"Would you rather we went somewhere else?" you asked when you saw his gaze sweep over the place.

"No, it's fine," he stepped forward, heading to a free table that was quite far away from the others.

"You know, I don't remember ever having tasted Japanese food," you said, sitting down across from him. "I guess you'll have to walk me through this."

A complicity intensified as Bucky flashed a smile, lowering his gaze in response to the comment you had just made. Your eyes lit up, creating a visual conformity as he raised his countenance again and focused his eyes on you. It was at that precise moment that you discovered that beneath the blue mantle of his iris were small greyish flecks. You had arrived in this place almost three months ago, in this Brooklyn neighbourhood full of charming Asian culture, and you had never felt more at home than you did at that moment. You knew every detail of the life of the boy sitting in front of you, every detail that the government had wanted to give you, but you realised that you didn't really know anything about him at all.

It was a long two minutes in which you spent inspecting the person in front of you. He was wearing a black denim-style jacket, a black T-shirt that seemed to match the jeans you remembered he was wearing, and of course his black leather gloves, the ones you assumed he wouldn't take off all night. You rested your elbow on the table and dropped your chin into the palm of your hand without taking your eyes off his for a second. Bucky's jaw was slightly stiff, his lips were pursed waiting for you to say something and his expression was highlighted by a frown. You held it in for a few seconds until again your mouth curved up in a smile causing laughter to erupt from within you, causing a blush to rise up Bucky's cheeks.

"What's wrong?" he asked doubtful of the cause of your smirking laughter.

"Nothing," you said sincerely, shaking your face as your laughter died down and you took the menu of dishes in your hands. "What do you recommend?"

"I don't know," he said repeating your same gesture and hiding his face behind the paper.

"I thought you were a regular," you commented ignoring the variety of dishes and put the menu down so you could look at him again. "What about the nigiris?"

"The truth is that whenever I come here it's always Yori who decides what to eat," he commented pulling the paper away from his face leaving you to stare at his uneasy countenance again.

"Wow... do you think we should call him for dinner recommendations?" you whispered making Bucky blush again as he chuckled.

"I think we can manage," he commented looking back at the list of dishes.

But really your attempt to make a varied selection of Japanese cuisine was in vain when the young waitress approached you both and you decided on a random selection based on the most curious names you had found, so that after she left you were once again alone in front of each other. You noticed that in those long weeks that you had unexpectedly coincided Bucky had never made a comment about his past, it was obvious that he took it for granted that you knew who he was, everyone seemed to know who he was.

"Can I be frank with you?" you asked, playing with the small vase in the middle of the table.

"Please," he replied, giving way to your question.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you seem nervous enough to have dated girls before, you know," you commented in a delicate tone avoiding scaring him away. "Is this your first date in... this long?"

Bucky's nostrils flared as he averted his gaze to the side and took a breath.

"Well... yeah, you could say that," he replied turning his focus back to you as his fingers played. "I've been trying... God, what's the name of the app?"

"Tinder?" you suggested arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, that," he nodded as his eyes widened in surprise. "It's crazy, that's not meant for me, it's like how am I going to find someone there? I don't know."

"I know," you laughed at his facial expression. "I tried it once, but I had a bad experience."

"What happened?" you inquired curiously as the waitress brought the first dishes to share along with the two beers you had ordered.

"I was supposed to meet a blond guy, curly hair, strong build, light eyes, about thirty or thirty-five, supposed to be British," you began as you took a sip of your beer. "All right, I was in the bar waiting for him to arrive, obviously we were meeting in a public place, we said to wear specific clothes so we could easily recognise each other, although I thought it was a bit absurd as I had seen pictures of him. By the time a completely different guy from the description I just gave you stood next to me, wearing a red tie and introducing himself as Matthew, I picked up and left."

"Are you sure that app is legal?" he asked when you finished telling the story.

"Sometimes I ask myself the same question too."

The atmosphere seemed to envelop you over the course of the dinner, Bucky tilting his face whenever you recounted any of your experiences, which were yours, not the character you had created to conduct your research. The comfort was so pleasant inside you that you even felt guilty on several occasions that he didn't know who you really were, a CIA agent sent to keep him under control. Even though it would have the worst consequences for you, for your career and you could never be willing to throw it all away, at least you had never been willing or thought about it until now. Although it had also been a long time since you'd felt like this.

"So...?" you arched your eyebrows with a lopsided smile, waiting for his honest answer.

"A hundred and six," he replied finishing his second beer.

"And I was complaining about the guy who showed me up on that Tinder date, because he was fifty-three," Bucky ducked his gaze somewhat nervously, as you shrugged. "You really are a fascinating guy, Bucky Barnes."

Those words were the most sincere thing you'd said since the night began, plus they brought with them a fresh batch of knowing glances between the two of you, where seconds ticked by, no one said anything and the din of laughter and surrounding conversations seemed to subside above you. You discovered that you weren't curious to find out if everything in those documents was true or not, if he really was the monster they were trying to make you believe. What really mattered to you and why you were curious about him, you wanted to find out for yourself who he really was, his experiences, his future plans, if he was lost, if he was afraid, you didn't want answers to the morbid questions they used to ask him, you wanted to know Bucky Barnes, not the Winter Soldier.

That was the first time you had ever been on a date, with all its letters, rarely had you reached dessert before you had slept with the guy in front of you, rarely had you felt so comfortable chatting with someone, rarely had you laughed so much and stayed until the place closed.

"You're in the 21st century, do you know that women can pay for dinner and we can buy if we want to?" you said approaching the bar and taking your wallet out of your purse.

"Please," he determined almost in a plea as he pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his trousers.

"All right," you raised your arms, heading for the exit door. "I'll pay for the drinks.

As you stepped outside you could feel Bucky's eyes on you through the glass of the restaurant as he was waiting for the extra money/change. It was a pretty cold night in March, but no one really seemed to care because it seemed like everyone had gone outside to enjoy the Saturday night. You heard behind you the tinkling of a little bell and Bucky was perched next to you, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Well, where..." you started to say before a voice cut you off.

A whistling sound coming from somewhere near you tried to get your attention, but it wasn't until you looked up that you saw a tiny face peering through a window on the first floor of your building.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, tapping Bucky's chest and pointing at Yori who was waving at you.

"Oh gosh..." commented Bucky raising his hand in greeting.

"How was the date?" your neighbour asked raising his tone so he could reach you.

"Great Yori!" you exclaimed trying to let him hear you from the first floor of your building. "Bucky is such a gentleman! They don't have men like that these days!"

You didn't see it, but your companion had no idea where to put himself at that moment, his hand on the back of his neck and his uncomfortable glances around as he blushed gave him away. You raised your arm to wave goodbye to Yori who was saying goodbye as he said something, but it barely reached your ears. Bucky simply nodded showing an awkward smile on his face.

"Come on," you laughed tugging on the lapel of Bucky's jacket causing him to start walking aimlessly.

"Where are we going?" he asked walking beside you.

"I don't know," you shrugged without stopping walking. "I'll remind you that I'm just a tourist, I've been in New York for three months and I've barely left the neighbourhood. But I think you know it a lot better than I do," you bumped his body with yours in a friendly way.

"I don't agree. You may be a tourist in New York, but I'm a tourist in the 21st century world," he commented, hitting you back with his elbow.

"In that case... let's discover New York together," you smiled, and he smiled back, letting you know that he was enjoying the evening as much as you were.

"There," your companion raised his chin, gesturing slightly towards the narrow building looming above you.

"There?" you asked, arching your eyebrows in surprise at what he was telling you.

"Fourth floor," he continued speaking without looking at you, resting his eyes on the place he was describing. "It was a tiny flat, I could get from the kitchen to the bedroom by just jumping up and down. If I opened the window at night, the smell of mozzarella from Nicollini's came in. It was an Italian restaurant," he paused thoughtfully, perhaps wistfully. "Wow... I didn't come here until now."

You stood parallel to Bucky, his eyes seemed to appear brighter than usual, the light from the streetlight allowing you to take in every feature of his face. You were silent for a couple of minutes while he seemed to be distant from the place, obscured in his thoughts, in his past. The time you had spent with him had not allowed you to see him like this at any time, he used to keep his emotions very much in check, not allowing anyone to glimpse them, only letting you see the shame or confusion when he spoke to you.

"So... when was the last time you were here?" your volume was soft, trying not to interrupt him too much, but upon hearing your voice, he fell into your presence and began to pace.

"Maybe... in 1943, just before I left for Europe," he cleared his throat, undoing the knot that had formed in his throat.

It was in that precious moment that you realised how hard and complex his situation must really be. Bucky Barnes was all alone in the world, all his knowledge of his old present was of little use to him now, it might be the city where he grew up but nothing was the same anymore. He also had to live with his legacy, the legacy HYDRA left him. Silence flooded around you, however, it was not a complicit silence, it was an uncomfortable silence, caused by the situation you had just lived.

"My father died when I was thirteen," you didn't know why, but that confession came from inside you, Bucky turned his face and focused his attention on you. "My mother had abandoned us when I was five, so when my father died I was all alone."

"I'm sorry," Bucky whispered making you realise he was really sorry when you looked at his face.

"It happens," you shrugged. "I guess that makes us feel luckier when we find someone we connect with."

That was the first time you looked away blushing as you met Bucky's smile, but he kept his eyes fixed on you. The two of you had made your way to an aimless spot, letting the night fall on you by the riverbank.

"Answer me something, when was the last time you enjoyed the New York night?" you said looking at him, as behind him you could see a wonderful view of the island of Manhattan.

"New York night..." he said looking down thoughtfully. "Well, I remember the last night I spent in New York, my best friend Steve and I went to see The Stark exhibit along with two girls," he turned his gaze to the horizon, "Connie and Bonnie, I think their names were."

"Your girlfriends?" you asked curiously delving into the story.

"Not exactly," he laughed looking at you, "it was like a double date, but they weren't our partners. Those times were more complicated, you know," you nodded and waited silently for him to continue the story. "I had planned for the four of us to go dancing, but Steve was not very receptive, he had other things on his mind, so I ended up going dancing with the two of them by myself.

"Wow, what do you know..." you arched an eyebrow causing Bucky to blush with laughter, gazing at the lights coming from Manhattan. "That means you're quite the expert dancer."

"Not exactly, I mean, maybe in... in the past, it's possible, but..." he didn't know how to express himself, his words were hindering him.

"Show me," you interrupted taking him by surprise.

"Uh?" he asked stopping his steps and frowning.

"Come on, it's time for me to be the one to get out of your time. I have no idea how to dance..." you pointed out, making him understand that you didn't know how to dance in a couple. "Please."

Your companion took a breath as you presented him with the palm of your hand inviting him to take it right in the middle of a small riverside park. Bucky was hesitant but your lower lip bitten by your teeth and your pleading eyes made him definitely decide to hold your hand and accept the challenge. The triumph was depicted on your face, which made it easy for Bucky to oblige by flashing you a smile.

"You're really testing me tonight," he murmured, slowly approaching you.

You first felt the roughness of his leather gloves as his left hand took yours to mark a closer position. Your bodies were close, too close, you could hear his raised breathing and see the mist of your breath connecting. Bucky gently placed his hand on your waist, but nothing else happened, you looked at each other, with a very uncomfortable smile.

"This is weird," he muttered, wrinkling the expression on his face.

"Why?" you looked around you, it was lonely. "There's no one."

"I know," he looked up. "There's no one, there's no music."

"Sing," you said quickly with a laugh, making Bucky laugh too as he shook his head. "I would, but I don't know any songs of the time."

"I don't plan to sing," he decreed without barely moving an inch away from you.

"Then use your imagination," you whispered lowering your gaze for a second, meeting his neck at eye level.

As if time had rushed backwards you were caught in a completely different place, the yellowish light of the street lamps above you and behind you a Manhattan skyline set the perfect mood for the moment. The hand that was perched on your waist began to subtly exert pressure, guiding you to imitate the movement of his feet that he had begun. Embarrassed by your clumsiness you quickly lowered your gaze to his feet to try to imitate what he was doing more accurately.

"Look at me, don't look at my feet," he sentenced with a small laugh. "Look at my eyes."

And you did, so much so that you did, letting yourself be enveloped by their blue, making you blush because of the proximity to them. It was strange, perhaps it was much stranger to you than it was to him, as you bit your lower lip hard trying to escape the awkwardness and embarrassment. How could a moment that could look completely ridiculous from the outside feel so intimate on the inside?

"When was the last time you danced with a girl?" you whispered, trying to keep the situation not too intimate.

"I think it was in London," he replied without stopping his movements. "When I was on leave."

But as he finished his answer you again found yourself under those piercing blue eyes trying to maintain eye contact with you. Again you caught your lower lip between your teeth, thinking of a new question to ask him. Bucky had taken control of the situation, something you weren't used to, and that made you feel alert, he knew it, for the first time he seemed to be in control of the situation, and that was your fault, you had given it to him when you said to teach you to dance.

"Are you alright?" he whispered in front of you with a half smile to which you nodded forcing a smile.

Just as you finished your nod you felt Bucky press harder against your waist and pressed his body against yours leaving your forehead pressed against his cheek. His scent wafted into your nostrils, drifting into your brain, projecting a pleasure that made you close your eyes and let yourself be completely carried away. You accepted that you wouldn't last an hour in the 40s in a dance hall, the second you'd fall at the feet of any young man like Bucky. You didn't know if it was your imagination, because right now you had entered an alternate universe, or if Bucky was humming some tune, but you heard it, you heard how your subtle movements had music.

"And..." you parted your lips, pulling your forehead away from his cheek, trying to formulate a question that didn't come because you felt the melody stop, realising that it was Bucky who was asking it.

His face with a sweet smile on it paralysed you, making you come out of the bubble that had been created around you, feeling guilty for the situation that you yourself had provoked. What the hell were you doing? He was your mission, everything was getting out of context, it had gotten completely out of hand and you needed to stop it as soon as possible. You shook your face, trying not to be too rude to him, and you broke the proximity between the two of you. Bucky didn't understand what had happened, because within a second the happiness was wiped from his face, showing some concern for your actions.

"I'm sorry," he said, raising his hands subtly by way of caution. "If I've done anything inappropriate..."

"No!" you exclaimed shaking your head smiling at his apology. "It's just... I think we should get back, we still have a long way to go and I wanted to get up early tomorrow."

"Of course," the disappointment you saw on Bucky's face almost broke your soul.

The walk home was too stealthy, and that made you uneasy. You couldn't stop replaying over and over the moment in your mind, the feel of his hand on your waist, the proximity to his body, your scent, and the warmth of your forehead against his cheek. It was torture, because on the other hand you felt extremely guilty for violating all the clauses of your job by entering into this kind of relationship with Bucky. It was suffocating, you felt almost breathless inside. Firstly, you should have started by refusing the proposal to go out for dinner, and secondly, if you did go out for dinner, you should have gone straight home, no dancing and no further conversation. In the midst of all these thoughts, you arrived home.

"Please," he said, offering you first the way into the building.

"Thank you," you mumbled without looking at him.

The walk to the third floor began, you had never realised that there were so many steps and so steep until you reached the door of your house, it seemed like a climb up Mount Everest and the worst thing was that Bucky lived right in front of you, on the same landing. You amused yourself rummaging through your purse for your house keys, avoiding having a conversation until you arrived right in front of the door.

"Well..." you started to say by way of an awkward goodbye.

"Again, if I've done anything to upset you..." Bucky repeated again with a gesture of concern.

"Really, Bucky, it's been... great," you concluded, smiling kindly at him. "I promise."

"All right," he ducked his face, not entirely convinced by your answer. "So, good night Susan."

"G-good night Bucky."

Susan? Of course, that was you to him, all a lie.

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[funnyexel]

Wallet...

A/n: This is my first (published) AMBW (Asian Man Black Woman) story. This story is set in Korea, therefore the characters will speak korean but to save my time and your time, when they speak korean their text will be bold. If there are any typos or anything you don’t understand please let me know! Enjoy lovely’s <3333

Summary: This is a slice of life AMBW story. Returning a wallet is a simple, polite gesture any decent human would do, right?  *THIS IS PART 1*

Next >>

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"I cannot believe you both dragged me here." You exclaimed walking with your two closest friends to the beach. "It'll be fun! You have to trust us this time!" You roll your eyes but give a small smile at the hope. You're tired of being the third wheel in your friend group. They've been trying to find you a date/boyfriend. For the longest, since moving to Korea you've been focusing on your job and up until now a love life wasn't important. "And look at you. You're bound to find a date." You smile brightly at they're uplifting words.

Korea is a romantic place. Not romantic but it promotes couples all the time and with you're friends unintentionally talking about they're flourishing love lives. You can't help but be a little depressed. Today, you're going to a beach-mall with your friends, a group of guys (including their boyfriends), and a few girls to even out the group. As you approach the beach of the establishment, many Koreans stop to stare. It's very normal, it's not everyday they see a stunning trio of black women or black people in general. You make it to the part of the beach you reserved for your little hangout. You greet all the ladies and men with a pleasant smile. They return the gesture.

- a  f e w   h o u r s   l a t e r -

"We're going to head into the mall." There they go again. Leaving after they see you're comfortable with the crowd. You were comfortable but it didn't feel like anything here could potentially blossom into something other than a friendship. "Boring!" You chuckle into your words but wave them bye. Going back to the group of people, downing liquor like water and dancing till their legs gave out. Your freshly manicured hands, glide across your throat. The blazing heat was making you parched and the alcohol wasn't helping in the slightest. "Can anyone spare 800 won for a water? I only brought card." The vending machine here only took cash and coin. One of the guys gave you 1000 won and offered to come with you. 

"No, I wouldn't mind." You smile and raise from your seat. During the walk to the mall you both had small talk. "How long have you been in Korea?" He asks in his language. "I've been here for 3 years." You answer. He throws a cup in the trash bin and follows you to the vending machine. You hold out your hand for the money but your eyes meet a frantic man. "Where is it?" You ask. He shrugs giving himself a pat down. You roll your eyes and look around. 'Is it in the trash?' You thought as you remember his interaction with the trash can. You walk to that trash can and find the money but underneath it a brown wallet. You pick up the wallet and money out the trash.

"Whose wallet..?" You whisper to yourself opening the wallet. You became speechless at the stack of cash it held. You take out the drivers license and study it. "hyeon seoko ? Hyeon Seoko..." After multiple tries you finally sound out his name. You walk back to the guy at the machine, hiding the wallet behind your back. "I couldn't find the money but it's okay. I'll go check for an atm. Don't wait up." You wave him as you leave and sigh. You tuck the drivers license in your small purse and head for the lost and found.  

 -  a   f e w   m i n u t e s   l a t e r  -

With no line at the lost and found you converse with the employee. "Welcome to lost, found." She tried to say in English. You smile and talk to her in Korean. "Hi, my friend Hyeon Seoko gave me his wallet and I can't seem to find him. Could you call him on the loud speaker, please?" Her expression changed as she heard your fluent Korean. She nodded and picked up the phone. "Hyeon Seoko?" She asked you to make sure she said his name right. You nodded.

"Greetings to all shoppers, can Hyeon Seoko come to Lost and Found. Thank You." She hung up and motioned to the seats on the side of the hallway. You sat down and patiently waited for the man. You pull out his license and find yourself staring at his picture. 'How can someone look so good in a drivers license photo? This looks like it belongs on Instagram.' You sigh and think of your first photo. Boredom by your side, you whistle a pleasing tone. Taking out your phone, you dial melody. "Hey girl! How's it going?" Her cheerful voice echoes through the phone. "I'm at the lost and found to return a wallet." You pop your tongue. "Oh. How are they? Are you going back?" She asks her voice calming down. "Probably not. I'm a little hungry so maybe I'll get some food, then I'll do some shopping." She sighs dramatically. "Ah man. I thought this would be the last time." You hum to her words. The nice lady waves to you and points to the man. "Yeah, well I'll catch ya later." Hanging up you get up and walk to the two men. "Hello." You greet them in Korean. Lifting up the license to each guys face, you see its the second guy. Before handing the wallet to him you ask one question. "What city did you get your license from?" He holds his chin, lightly rubbing it. "Busan." You hand him the wallet and license. "I found your wallet in the trash." You bow and leave. 

Coincidentally, a vending machine was close by. Inserting the money for the water, it keeps rejecting it. You frustratingly sigh and attempt to smooth out the money. "Need help?" His deep voice is heard behind you. You slightly jump but turn around. "No but thanks." You smile and continue to smooth it out, finally putting it in the slot. It worked and you bent down to get the water, taking the change. A light pat is rested on your shoulder. You face him and look up. His body towering yours. A long pause is met before his actually words. "Do you want to hang out?" His english voice is deeper than most but smooth and sharp as glass. "Sure." You shrug and give a small smile. You and him proceed to walk through the mall. "What's your name?" Starting small talk. "Y/n." You reply glancing at the stores. "Tell me about yourself, Y/n." And interesting conversation. "I'm not from here. Obviously, I'm from the states but I've lived here for 3 years. My friends and I came to the mall together but they kind of ditched me." He chuckles at the last events. It was very pleasant. "What about you? Hyeon Seoko." You tease with his full name. "You probably know most things about me. You did have my wallet." He teases back.

"I only had it because it was in the trash!" You laugh lightly and he joins in. He couldn't keep his eyes off you. The dress you were wearing had that effect but he wasn't just looking at your body or the color of your skin. He was looking at you for you, and enjoying every second of it. You both went into stores at your request but half the time you didn't buy anything, if you did it was something small. "Those shoes are nice." He slowly shifts your body to where he was looking. You nod and look closer. '610,300 won?! Its not that bad and I haven't gotten something nice in a while.' He called over a sales person and you tell them your shoe size.

"Your hair is truly pretty." He says as he plays with a strand of your hair. You lightly blush and stumble a 'thanks'. You aren't used to being given compliments out of nowhere. The sales person hands you the shoes. "Tell me if you need anything else." He then walks away. You sit down at the closest lounge chair and put the box beside you, he watched your actions closely. You laced up, a sliver sparkle high heels with straps that rap criss cross around your lower leg and tied behind your leg. With both sides on, you stand up. He sees your steps becoming uneven and holds you by the waist. Your hands grab onto his arm in response.

"I haven't put on high heels in a while." You scratch your cheek in embarrassment. He makes sure you've got balance before letting you go. You stride around in the beautiful heels and look at them in the mirror. You sit back down and take them off. "Are you going to get them?" He asks in a little confusion. You nod and carefully place them in the box. He takes the box and helps you up. The salesperson rings up the shoe and you pull out your card. He moves your hand to the side and hands them his card. You quickly protest. "You didn't have to, I was more than willing to pay for it." 

He grabs the bag and places his hand on your upper back, motioning you out the store with him. "Can I at least hold the bag." You look up to him. He hands you the bag. "You're very stubborn." He smirks. "Thank you. It's a trait I am rather proud of." You smile proudly. He stops infront an expensive brand name store. Your face fills with confusion. "I have to finish some stuff, real quick." He takes a step but you grab his arm. "It's okay. We can meet up again." You pat his shoulder so he can bend down a bit and stretch your hand to his ear. Whispering your number in korean and english. You quickly take your leave and begin overthinking your choice of distributing your number.

Next >> *THIS IS PART 1*

[alexiessan]

The brother you never asked for - One Shot

AO3

@neakco​ asked: "I saw an ask for prompts so I would like to request a sibling Jasonette where Jason is in Paris trying to win a bet with Dick over who can find the best pastries, which is how he finds/meets Marinette. Everything else is open to the freedom of your imagination."

Here is Jasonette Siblings :) 

@justafanwarrior​ @animegirlweeb​

Why was Jason running in the streets of Paris at seven in the evening again?

Ah, right. To win a bet against Dick.

The two oldest adopted children of Bruce Wayne had agreed to accompany their father on a business trip to the French capital. Damian still had school to attend and Tim was to manage the company while the CEO was away.

He didn’t really need any of his children to accompany him, but who would say no to a trip to Paris?

Bruce had a lot of meetings planned for the two weeks trip, and it took only two days for the two men to get bored. Paris wasn’t new for them and they’ve already seen all the touristic spots.

And so, they were just watching some movie in Richard’s hotel room when he had a craving for pastries.

“Let’s go to Ladurée! They have awesome macarons!” the oldest exclaimed, his mouth already watering at the thought of chocolate macaron.

Jason frowned. “Eh, really? It’s overpriced and overrated there.”

“But they are the best I’ve ever had.”

“That’s because you didn’t try to find the very best. It’s France, there are bakeries in almost every street. There must be one that makes better pastries than Ladurée.”

La maison Ladurée was a famous bakery in Paris, known for its macarons. Every tourist always ended up going there at one point or another during their stay in Paris.

While their macarons were good, it was too much of a tourist spot for Jason’s taste. There probably was a bakery out there that sold better macarons than the famous Maison Ladurée.

Urgh. Even the name sounded made him want to cringe. Snobbish much, huh?

“Then, let’s find it,” said Dick with a serious voice.

Jason looked away from the TV to face his brother. “Huh?”

Richard rolled his eyes. “Get your ass up this couch and let’s go find the best bakery in Paris!”

The second oldest of the Wayne siblings raised an eyebrow. “Do you realize how many bakeries there are in just Paris? We can’t possibly try them all.”

“You’re right. That’s why,” Dick paused, showing Jason his smartphone, “I’ve researched the best bakeries of Paris. I found two lists with a top ten of the best bakeries of Paris, and they don’t have one in common with the other!” he grinned, “so, I suggest we each take a list and try them all, and come back with a box of macarons from the one we thought was best!”

Jason looked at the list. If he tried them all and figured that the best one was one of the first he tried, it would mean going back there to buy a full box of macarons. It would be annoying to go back there again, but doable.

“What does the winner win?” he finally asked.

“Eh… Bragging rights?” at Jason’s expression, he tried again. “We’ll figure it out later.”

“Right. Then, may the best man win.”

They shook hands and were off in a matter of seconds.

This is how Jason found himself in front of the last bakery of the list — the one ranked second in the list, but it was the one the farthest from their hotel, and thus, the last one he tried — hoping it was closed yet. He really hoped this one would be the best because he wouldn’t have the time to go back to one of the other bakeries before closing time.

When he opened the door, he was met with a lot of pink. It was a cute and cozy bakery, making you want to find a seat, drink hot chocolate, and read next to the window while it was raining outside.

At the desk was a teenage girl around Damian’s age — sixteen, seventeen-year-old top — who looked visibly upset over something on her phone. When she heard him enter, she put the phone away, blinked several times to get rid of the tears that had gathered in her eyes, and smiled at him.

“Welcome to Tom et Sabine boulangerie pâtisserie! How can I help you?” she greeted him in French.

Jason made his way to the counter, looking over the different pastries. He glanced at the girl, patiently waiting for his order. She had black hair and blue eyes, half French and half Asian he guessed. She had a smile on her face, and not just a customer one, giving that she was visibly upset when he arrived, but a genuine one.

It made him want to ask her if he had to go and threaten someone, but he didn’t know the girl, and she didn’t know him, and what right did he have to ask?

“I’ll have a chocolate macaron, please,” he answered in French but with a heavy American accent.

She noticed and switched in English, which he was grateful for. He could speak French, but since he didn’t have the opportunity to practice it often, he was a bit rusty in the language.

“Of course, a big one or a small one?”

“A small one, please.”

She put the small macaron on a towel with a clamp and put it on the counter. “It will be one euro, please!”

He thanked her while paying and wasted no time in eating the small treat. The teen girl laughed when she saw him eat it in one bite.

“You know what?” he began after swallowing, deciding that this was the best one he had in his search. “I’ll take a whole box of these. I’ll even take two big ones!”

“Alright! That will be nine euros and fifty cents, please!” she said with a smile before preparing his order.

“Thanks again!” he said while handing her the money. “If the other pastries are as good as the macarons, you’ll see me again.”

She laughed. “I’m not exactly impartial, but the pastries are really, really good! So I guess I’ll see you again.”

He barked a laugh. “You can bet on it then!”

“Have a good night, sir!”

“Thanks!”

When he got back to the hotel room, Dick was already there with his own box of macarons, and they didn’t waist one more second before tasting the other’s finding.

Jason won, of course, and demanded fifty bucks as his reward.

And wasn’t it good to win a bet against his brother.

Just like he said he would, Jason came back to the bakery, with Dick with him. They tried all sorts of pastries, and even some quiches for lunch and everything was delicious. Dick made sure to note the name of the bakery somewhere on his phone so they could come back the next time they would come to Paris.

The teenage girl was still there, managing the desk and talking with the two of them when they stayed a bit longer to enjoy their food.

They learned that her name was Marinette and that she was seventeen — making her Damian’s age, just as Jason thought — and that she was the daughter of the owner. Since it was summer vacations, she helped her parents since they had more clients than ever thanks to tourism.

They learned that she was a fashion designer and that she learned English because of it. Since she wanted to start her own business one day, someone recommended that she learn English if she wanted it to be international. Speaking only one language wouldn’t do well, she explained.

While she was still in school, she had a small customer base already and did everything that needed to be done for it to be legal, and thus, was a freelance in fashion design. She was still in high school, entering her last year in September. She even expressed her desire to go to University in America, in a double major — fashion and business.

They visited the bakery every day for a week, learning to know each other a bit, but never once did she tell them anything that was upsetting her.

And Jason couldn’t help but wonder what could bring such a cheerful and positive girl like Marinette so close to tears.

It was on their last week in Paris that Jason found out.

He was on his way to the bakery to get his daily dose of pastries when he saw Marinette sitting on a bench in the park near her family’s business and home.

And she was crying.

He didn’t think about it as he made his way to Marinette and sat next to her.

“So, tell me, whose butt do I need to kick?”

She almost jumped, not having noticed him.

“God,” she breathed, “you scared me, don’t do that again.”

“My bad,” he apologized. “But tell me, what’s wrong?”

She let out a joyless laugh. “It’s okay, I don’t want to burden you with my teenage drama.”

He playfully elbowed her. “Now, now. I’ve been a teen too, you know. And I know all about teenage drama. And I know that it’s not just nothing to you, right now. Maybe, later on, you’ll think so, but it matters to you now, so it’s important, you understand?” she nodded. “Just because you’re a teenager, it doesn’t mean your problems are meaningless, alright? I know adults tend to downplay teenager’s problem, but not me.” he ruffled her hair. “Now, tell everything to your big brother.”

She laughed and shoved him playfully. “You’re not my brother!”

“Well, now I am! I’m the brother you never asked for but got anyway. Deal with it.”

She laughed again, and he felt like he succeeded a little in cheering her up. “Alright, ‘big brother’, I’ll talk.”

She took a deep breath before facing him.

“It’s my boyfriend. He canceled on me. Again.” she laughed. “I know I shouldn’t be upset to be stood up, and I wasn’t the first time. Or the second. Or the third. But I’ve lost count of the times he ditched me for his friends, or for an event that just happened. And I tried to be understanding at first. It’s just… I’m doing everything to make our relationship work. I plan dates, even double dates because I know how much he loves his friends — our friends. But it feels like it’s one sided,” she paused, taking another deep breath. “But I haven’t properly talked to him in months because he keeps standing me up. I just… Does he want to break up with me? Is that what’s he’s trying to do, but is too much of a coward to do it properly? I… I guess I’m just realizing now that we haven’t be fine for months now.”

Jason sighed. “I can’t tell you what he’s thinking, and what is his reasoning behind his behavior because I don’t know him, but I’ll tell you this: it takes all the people involved in a relationship for it to work. If the other doesn’t put any work in it, it can’t work. It can be fixed, however, but you already tried, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Then, since you already try to fix your relationship, you have to ask yourself this question: are you happy with him?”

Tears gathered again in her eyes and she shook her head. “No… No, Jason, I’m not happy anymore.”

He opened his arms, inviting her in a hug, and she immediately threw herself in her arms.

“Then, I think you know what to do.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Marinette stopped crying.

“I’m sorry, I barely know you and I just dumped all my problems on you.”

“Hey, when I said that I was now your brother, I meant it. I take my duties as a big brother very seriously.”

The fashion designer laughed. “What, you just picked people on the street and claimed they are now your sibling or something?”

“No, you’re just special.”

She laughed. “I’m nothing special, but thank you. For listening to me and offering me friendship. I really appreciate it.”

He patted her hair. “Anytime, chouquette.”

They exchanged numbers before parting ways, this time without any pastries with him.

The next morning, Jason received a text from Marinette, stating that she broke up with her boyfriend. He asked for details, and she explained that he has been oblivious to it all and didn’t understand why she was breaking up with him. She said that she gave up on explaining anything and that they were just over.

He and Dick spent the last week at the bakery, trying to cheer Marinette up, which was not as hard as he expected it to be. While Marinette was sad that her relationship was over, she was also relieved. She had been hurt too much, and it was a good thing that she wouldn’t be hurting anymore.

Their two weeks stay unfortunately came to an end, and it was time to say goodbye to Marinette.

“Say, what do you think about going to Gotham for university,” he asked her with a grin. “We could see each other much more then.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right. Going to the most dangerous city in America. No thanks, I think I’ll pass.”

He pouted. “But I would protect you.”

She laughed. “I have no doubt you would, but I think I’ll go to New York. I have an internship offer there than I can do alongside my studies,” she paused. “But hey, Gotham and New York are pretty close, no? We can still see each other.”

“One of my brothers is actually going to university in New York too next year! I’ll tell him to look after you!”

“What?! Come on Jason, I don’t need anyone looking after me!”

“Tutututu! Let your big brother handle it!”

“But you’re not my brother!”

[doyumacy]

𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 — 5

gif not mine

pairing: taeyong x doyoung x reader

warnings: 「dotae x reader, smut (stimulation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, threesome, oral sex m and f receiving, anal sex, ) polyamorous relationship, language, a bit of strangulation, mentions of an abusive relationship 」

word count: 「 6k 」

ꜰᴏᴜʀ

You give yourself a last glance in the mirror: one shoulder black dress, diamond earrings that Doyoung gave you on your last birthday, a classic makeup look and red lips.

You feel Doyoung’s arm wrap your waist and he rests his chin on your bare shoulder. He smiles and looks at you in the mirror. “You look so good, love.”

“Thank you,” you kiss his cheek.

You turn to him. Doyoung is dressed in a black tuxedo, crisp white shirt, and black bowtie. And his locks are slicked back with gel. He looks so handsome. "The things I'd do to you right now, Kim Doyoung."

Doyoung chuckles and he gives you a devilish smile, already knowing he has turned you into a complete mess. "Yeah? Why don't you show me better?"

One of your hands immediately rubs his leg, inching towards his inner thigh.

Doyoung stares at you and grins, “Wanna suck me off?”

You keep one hand on his leg and the other one reaches up and touches his face. “I do want to suck you off” You press a kiss to his cheek. “But we don't want to be late for your own party, right?"

He glances at you. There’s a gleam. "I don't care."

You kiss him in return then pull faintly away. "Okay."

Doyoung smiles and you get on your knees. Your fingers undo the leather belt he’s wearing then swiftly undo his pants as well. You push his pants and underwear down as you lean and free his hard cock. Your hand strokes it, pumping it slowly before you dip your head down and take the tip into your mouth.

“Fuck," Doyoung hisses sharply as he feels your tongue licking the tip of his cock like a lollipop. He has both hands on your shoulders so he doesn't ruin your hair. He smirks a little, letting you have your fun because when you two are back home, he'll get his fun.

You move your head up and down Doyoung's swollen and hard cock, lathering it with your saliva. Your moans are unstoppable as you take him in, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You hear Doyoung's plea of “let me feel your throat” on a hushed pant. You don’t decline his request as you move your head slowly down his cock, feeling his cock slide down your throat. Your gag reflex kicks in as you keep going, making sure to breathe through your nose.

“Oh, love. Fuck. Yes,” Doyoung huskily rasps, squeezing your right shoulder. “Your mouth is perfect. Taking every inch of it.” He pauses as he runs his fingers on your cheek.

You slowly lift your head up then wrap your hand back around his cock. You pump it lightly before running your tongue around the tip then placing it back into your mouth. You take all of him once again, enjoying how he tastes and feels sliding into your mouth and down your throat.

“Such a good girl, aren't you, baby?” He hears your eager and needy moan in response and smiles while he rubs your shoulder. He feels you begin to move your mouth up his length. “Oh, not yet." Doyoung coos softly. “Keep your pretty mouth on me. You wanted it, you’re gonna have it.”

You take his cock on your mouth again and bob your head up and down, until he comes in your mouth. You swallow your thick and salty cum and you look at him in the eye. Doyoung growls, almost moaning. He notices his cock is stained with your red lips.

He helps you to stand up and then he pulls up his pants and does them, redoing his belt as well. You while your mouth using the back of your hand. He pulls you by the neck and kisses you. "I'm gonna fuck you senseless when we are back home."

"Looking forward," you bite his lip, pulling it with your teeth.

"Stop fucking or whatever you two are doing!" You hear Taeyong screaming downstairs. "We're late!"

(...)

The party you three are heading two is being thrown by KILEE Company. -Doyoung and Taeyong’s company - They are celebrating their expansion to China and invited some of their closest partners and friends. You’re so proud of everything they’ve achieved the past years.

Your boyfriends introduce you to one of their business partners, or potential clients, and you go along with it just to be ignored right afterward while they engage in another round of inane conversation. You never get upset.

You are standing alone in the illuminated ball room, the champagne glass on your left hand almost empty. You spot Taeyong and Doyoung talking to Kun and Johnny.

You are waiting for Jaehyun to come out from the bathroom and sigh. Well dressed couple passes by you and you greet them with a small. You wouldn't lie if you don't feel weird surrounded by billionaire people.

You drown the rest of the champagne that is left and notice Jaehyun is talking to someone. Great. You're alone for at least 15 minutes.

You walk to the bar and ask for another glass of champagne. While you wait, someone stands next to you. You don't recognize the black haired man that asks for a whisky on the rocks. Soon as he gets his whisky, he has a sip. He seems to be having a hard time there.

“Slow down or you might leave the place crawling,” you say to him.

He laughs. “I’d love that, actually.”

You smile. “I’m y/n y/l/n,” you extend your hand.

He takes your hand, shaking it. “Mark Lee.”

“Nice to meet you, Mark Lee,” you grin. “I have never seen you before.”

“I just came back from Canada to take care of my dad’s business and he wants me to socialize,” he sighs. “I don't know anyone here.”

“Firstly, welcome back,” you smirk. “Secondly, I can introduce you to my boyfriends.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and then frowns. “Boyfriends?”

You nod and point at Doyoung and Taeyong who are chatting with two old men. “Lee Taeyong and Kim Doyoung.”

He almost chokes on his drink. You laugh. “I love the reactions.”

“You’re dating the hosts?” He gives you a surprised look.

“Yeah,” you have a sip of your champagne.

“Wow, that's… weird. I mean,” he shakes his head. “I don't know anything about poly love but if you guys have found a way to have one thats amazing. I could ne-”

“You’re rambling,” you chuckle.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry. I’m being rude,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him.

On the other side of the room, Doyoung excuses himself to the restroom and when he comes back, he sees a man around his age talking to Taeyong.

“Ah, you're here,” Taeyong places a hand on his shoulder. “Doyoung, this is Jackson Wang, a businessman interested in investing in our company.”

Doyoung smiles and extends his hand. Jackson shakes his. “Nice finally meet you, Mr. Wang.”

“Oh please, just call me Jackson,” he smirks. “I hope you don't mind that one of your guests invited me. I literally begged him.”

“Oh it’s okay,” Doyoung grins. “So tell me Jackson, what do you do?”

"My father founded Systems Integration Solutions, the big  cybersecurity firm based in Silicon Valley, and I'm currently the CEO," he smirks.

“Oh, your father is Wang Ruiji?” Taeyong asks, surprised. “I had the pleasure to meet him last year. He’s incredible.”

“Thank you,” he grins. “Yeah. Right now I’m interested in investing in more Asian companies and since yours is big here and China, I thought it would be a great idea to get to know you better.”

“We can definitely arrange a meeting next week, Jackson.” Doyoung informs. “Thank you so much for coming tonight.”

“Thank you for letting me in… technically.”

The three men chuckle.

Back to you, you’re still at the bar with Mark. He so far has told you how he hates socialising, but here it is. He also lets you know that he's having a welcoming party next weekend and you and your boyfriends are invited as well.

Mark is nice. He’s 2 years younger than you and you kinda feel bad that at such a young age, he has the world on his shoulders.

You’re about to ask for your third glass of champagne when you see Doyoung and Taeyong chuckling with a man you have never seen before. He then turns around, facing you. He raises the hand where he has a glass of champagne and smiles at you.

Even though it has been years and you've changed so much since then, you can't help feeling like ice is pouring down your back.

You drop your glass realizing who it is: Jackson Wang. The man who almost beat you to death once.

"y/n?" Mark looks at you. "Are you okay?"

You gulp. You thought you'd never see him again, after all he put you trough years ago. You want to throw up.

"Excuse me," you say in a low tone.

You walk so fast to the restroom, not wanting to cause a scene. When you're there, you lock yourself in one of the hardwares and try to breath.

"Fuck," you whisper.

The door suddenly opens and you see beneath the hardware door a pair of shiny shoes walking to where you are. You're pretty sure those aren't Taeyong or Doyoung's.

There's a slight knock on the door. "y/n, I thought it was you. How the hell have you been?"

Somehow you manage to breathe. "You don’t even have to answer that, I just met the two lovely men you are fucking. I knew you were always a greedy slut, but this is a new level of greediness."

You stay completely silent. Jackson laughs. "I'd pay billions just to see your face right now, sweetie."

"Get out," you order him.

"C'mon, I want to see you up close. Doyoung wouldn't shut up about your beauty," he mocks him. "I wanna see if it's true."

"Get the hell out, Jackson. Or I'll scream," you warn.

Jackson laughs again. "As if anyone could ever touch me."

He fixes his suit jacket and sighs. “Okay, fine. I’ll go. But we’ll be seeing each other around, sweetie. I’ve been waiting years to see you.”

You watch his feet get away until he's out of the restroom, and as soon as he's gone, you burst out crying.

When you were with Jackson, the first months everything was great. But he suddenly changed and turned into a person you thought you'd never deal with. You tried your best to fight it. You wanted to get free and live a good life, but he manipulated you to the point he made you feel guilty. To the point you didn't feel good enough.

And after everything that happened, you promised yourself you would never put yourself in that situation ever again.

You exit the restroom and run into Jaehyun. “Hey, I was looking for you.”

You dont look him in the eye. “I uhm… think I had too much champagne.”

“I saw Jackson leaving the restroom,” he cups your face. “Are you okay?”

You sob. “What is he doing here?

Jaehyun hugs you. “I don't know, but I won't let him get close to you ever again.”

You hug Jaehyun tightly. He is the only person that knows about what happened with Jackson.

“Come on,” He takes your hand. “Let’s go back.”

“I can't. Jackson was talking to Taeyong and Doyoung,” you sigh.

He frowns. “About what?

“I don't know… what if he told them something?” You run a hand through your hair.

“Doyoung would kill anyone who dares to speak badly about you,” Jaehyun calms you down.

“It’s been 6 years, why is he back?” You cradle your face.

“I wish I know,” Jaehyun says. “You need to tell Taeyong and Doyoung.”

“Tell us what?” Doyoung’s voice startesl you.

You turn to see him walking towards you and Jaehyun. “I uhm… I think I’m drunk,” you lie.

Doyoung frowns. “But are you okay?”

You nod and then giggle. “I just threw up and Jaehyun wants me to tell you and Taeyong, but I’m fine.”

Doyoung cradles your face. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can end the event and take you home?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine, I can go home by myself. I don’t mind.”

Doyoung shakes his head in disagreement. “I won't let you go alone.” He looks at Jaehyun. “Do you mind going with her? The chauffeur will take you back to the party.”

Jaehyun nods. “Of course. Don’t worry.”

Doyoung gives you a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll have my phone with me every moment, okay? Call me if you need anything, love.”

You nod and smile. “Please tell Taeyong I’m sorry I left early.”

“He’ll understand. Now go. Get some rest,” he gives you a peck. “I love you.”

When you return home, you change your clothes into Doyoung’s pajamas. You love how soft they are and that they smell like him. Jaehyun insists on staying with you but you tell him you're fine and he should return to the party with Johnny and enjoy what's left of the night.

You lay on Taeyong’s side of the bed and sigh.

It’s been two years since you three are together and you never mentioned Jackson. You never talk about it.

You roll on the bed for what you feel like hours without being able to sleep. You glance at the watch on the nightstand and it marks 2 am. Taeyong and Doyoung should be coming soon.

"Love? We're home," You hear Doyoung call, entering the penthouse.

You stand up from the bed and go downstairs. You see Taeyong unloosing his suit bow. You run to them and kiss them both. "Someone missed us," Taeyong mocks and kisses you back.

"I always miss you," you pout.

Doyoung smiles. "We missed you, too, love."

"We decided to invite someone tonight, I hope you dont mind." Taeyong smiles. You frown and see the door opening. It's Jackson.

"What?" You look at both of them. "Why is he doing here?"

Suddenly, Taeyong and Doyoung aren't in the penthouse anymore and all you can see is Jackson's hand wrapped around your neck. "I've been wanting to do this for so long."

He adds strength and chokes you, the air stopping going to your lungs. "I'm gonna make sure I'm the last person you see when I kill you, whore."

You startled awake, a loud gasp escaping you. You could feel your shirt cling uncomfortably to your back with sweat and your legs are tangled in the sheets, only worsening the feeling of being trapped.

You are breathing harshly, your chest heaving with choked breaths. You whimper, feeling your eyes start to water.

"Just a dream," you try to tell yourself.

It's 5 am and Doyoung and Taeyong are sleeping peacefully next to you. With shaking hands you reach out, trying to switch on the small lamp on the nightstand table. The dim light illuminating the room does nothing to calm your anxiety.

You touch your neck, wanting to make sure his hand isn't wrapped around your neck. He's not there. He doesn't know where you live.

The horrible picture plays in your head on loop and you know you won't be able to calm down. You shakily get out of bed and try to wipe the tears off your cheeks as good as you can and make your way towards the bathroom door of the bedroom.

Once inside the bathroom, you wash your face with cold water. You're still shaking. You sit next to the bathtub and start crying.

You hear someone enter the bathroom and hope they don't see you. But it doesn't work, it's Doyoung's eyes who finds you sitting next to the bathtub. He approaches you and kneels in front of you. "Love?"

You don't move and just look at him with wide eyes, he gently takes your hand. "What's wrong, love?"

You shake your head and cry again. "Did you have a nightmare?“ Doyoung asks. You nod and bury your face on his shirt.

"Oh love. It's alright. Nothing happened, it was just a dream. I'm here,“ Doyoung murmurs, tightening his hold on you. You clutch onto Doyoung's soft sleeping shirt and continue to cry.

"Do you want to talk about your dream, love?" Doyoung asks quietly, stroking your hair.

"I-I dreamed...," you look him in the eye. "I dreamed I lost you both."

Doyoung cuddles you close again. "It was just a nightmare, love. We're here, we're gonna be here always."

You peek up at him and nod. "I love you so much."

"I love you," Doyoung plants a kiss on your forehead. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Doyoung helps you to stand up and go back to the bed without waking Taeyong up. You are cuddled in the middle with your head pillowed on Doyoung's chest. It doesn't take long at all for you to fall asleep, feeling safe and warm his arms.

(...)

A couple of days later, Jackson shows up at KILEE. Doyoung is fascinated by him but to Taeyong, there's something strange about him. He's nice.

Too nice.

Maybe Taeyong thinks he's overreacting and Jackson is in fact nice.

Jackson tells them he's good friends with Mark Lee, the heir of one of the wealthiest and biggest companies in Canada and South Korea. So there's no reason to think he's gonna play them.

They later find themselves having lunch with Jackson and Mark.

"I met your girlfriend last weekend," Mark has a sip of his drink. "She is really nice. Although she disappeared."

Taeyong and Doyoung smile. "She had too much champagne and had to leave." Doyoung says.

"Oh well, it happens right?" Mark chuckles. "I've been there before."

"I didn't have the pleasure to meet her," Jackson says, "I hope I can next time."

"I invited her to my welcoming party this Saturday, are you guys coming?" Mark stares at Doyoung and Taeyong.

"Of course, we'll be there," Taeyong nods. "And I hopefully can greet your dad. He's an incredible man."

“Thanks, dude,” Mark beams, “so glad you all are coming.”

(...)

“But… Saturdays are only for us,” you pout, looking at Doyoung.

“I know, love. But I promise I’ll make it up to you next weekend,” He says, looking at himself in the mirror.

“I don't wanna go,” you say, leaving the walking closet.

Doyoung sighs. “Everyone’s gonna be there.”

“Well, not me,” you sit on the bed turning the TV on.

“White or black shirt?” Taeyong asks, entering the bedroom. “I’m still undecided.”

You shrug, trying to find something to watch on Netflix. Taeyong frowns, looking at you. “Why aren't you ready?”

“Because I am not going,” you reply.

Taeyong looks at Doyoung confused. “Mark is expecting to see you there.”

“Well, tell him I’m sick or something, Taeyong,” you rest your back on the headboard, watching the movie you picked.

Doyoung sighs, losing his patience. “You have been acting bratty all week and you're making me lose my patience. Get up and get dressed.”

“Didn't you hear me?” You look at him. “I-am-not-going.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes and walks to the walking closet, but Doyoung grabs his arm. "What do we do to brat girls?"

Taeyong smirks and you feel both of their gaze on you.

You don't know how you end up crouched low on the ground with your knees digging into the modern grey carpeting, you are tensing your thighs together and twisting your body every which way for the past ten minutes.

It doesn’t take long for your deep, frequent groans of pain to become loud enough to be heard around the make-shift gag that stuffs your mouth;  a pair of your black lace panties. "Be quiet, love. Good girls don't make a sound," Doyoung tells you.

“I think our princess is done, Doyoung,” you hear Taeyong say, his voice thick from immense pleasure.

You can see one of Doyoung's legs twitching and where his pelvis meets Taeyong's hips as he pulls forward and back again on his cock. Doyoung's loud moans reverberate against the walls, and you can picture his head thrown back in ecstasy as a strong smirk crawls across Taeyong's face.

“How much longer do you think you can hold it, baby?” Doyoung asks. You know he’s looking at Taeyong but talking to you, and as you try and scream, another jolt of displeasure courses through you. Not long, you want to say. Please, please let me go.

Doyoung pulls out from Taeyong (ignoring his hearty protests) and pads over to you, naked and his dick dripping.

The first thing you feel is his presence, the second thing you feel is his lips on your earlobe, biting it as he asks you to roll over. You do.

The third thing you feel is his right finger touching your aching clit. You cry in pleasure. He passes his fingers down your wet silt and then takes his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. "So good. As always." You concentrate everything you have not to release everything right there.

Taeyong stands next to you and takes you in his arms in bridal style. Then he leaves you on the bed. You spread your legs for the two men you have in front and you can tell they're enjoying the view. You bite your lip.

"Teasing us, huh?" Doyoung smirks at you. "Let's play then."

Doyoung finishes taking his shirt off and throws it somewhere in the room. "Get on all fours," Doyoung orders, "Taeyong, get in front of her."

You do as he says and get on all fours. You feel Doyoung blowing gently in your core and you moan. He slaps you in the ass. "What did we say about sounds?"

"Sorry," you whisper.

"I want you to suck Taeyong off while I fuck you from behind, okay?" Doyoung asks, softly.

You nod. Taeyong takes his dick on his hand and strokes it, you open your mouth to take his cock. As you are licking his tip, Doyoung lowers his head down into it and closes his hot mouth around your wet pussy. Gasping, you groan on Taeyong's cock. Doyoung eagerly laps at your clit. You want to moan, but if you make the slightest noise, he won't let you.

You proceed to lick up the side of Taeyong's cock again swirling your tongue around it. Taeyong grips your hair, throwing his head back. "Oh fuck," he groans.

Yo smirk and lick him again when you feel him tense up. You suck even harder. Taeyong bites his lip; you look gorgeous taking his cock so well.

Doyoung is still focused on your clit, lapping at it continuously until your hips are jerking, and you cry out his name. Fuck.

Doyoung stops and slaps your ass again, making you whimper. "Bad girl. Finish Taeyong off."

You keep bobbing your head up and down until Taeyong explodes into your mouth. He rests a hand on your jaw. “Swallow for me baby” you do as you're told, making sure to maintain eye contact with Taeyong.

Doyoung grabs your waist and lays you on your back. He takes his cock in his hand and rubs the pink head between the lips of your flushed pussy, drawing a pleased moan from him. He pulls in, all of his bare length entirely inside of you. Doyoung grunts and tenses up, curling his fingers tightly around your soft hips. Taeyong watches you and he is getting hard again.

You turn to Taeyong and Doyoung moves his cock slowly dragging out of your cunt until only the tip remains. He drives into you and, as a groan bubbles in your throat, your eyes roll back. You are so full, that it feels as if you’re being ripped apart from the inside out. Taeyong stays crouched by your side, whispering soft and gentle reassurances in your ear, and kisses your face.

Doyoung's mouth is on your breasts, marking you with his teeth and lips, metal and flesh fingers digging into your hips and sides. “She’s so fucking tight, Taeyong.”

“Of course she is, she’s a good girl. Aren’t you, baby?” Taeyong's tongue is in your mouth before you can answer and he’s growling against your tongue as he sucks it into his mouth.

Taeyong slides his hand between your breasts and down your belly as Doyoung pushes up, giving Taeyong room to find your clit. Doyoung is growling, pounding you into the mattress as Taeyong assaults the throbbing bundle of nerves. It feels like lava is scorching through your veins as you cum on Doyoung's cock. You want him to join you, but you know he won’t, he wants to save it for when both he and Doyoung are fucking you at the same time.

With your heart hammering in your chest and bursts of static in your ears, Taeyong rolls you to your stomach and pulls you to him; knees on the edge of the bed, your ass up. Before you know what’s happening, Taeyong slaps your ass. You cry out and push back, seeking out more of his touch.

“You like that, don’t you?”

You whine pitifully. “Y-yes."

He caresses the reddening skin before slapping it again, and again, and again. Just when you think he’s done, he surprises you with a slap to your cunt, leaving you shrieking and writhing at the pleasurable sting. The wide head of Taeyong's cock is pushing in, slower.

“What do you want, baby?"

You whimper. “I want you to fuck me."

Taeyong's demeanor changes and he slams into you with a snarl. You bury your face in the bed and cry out. Taeyong is relentless, his thrusts tight and controlled as he fucks you, his balls slap your clit and every time they do, it pulls a moan from deep within.

You try telling Taeyong that you’re going to cum, but you don’t get the chance; it hits you like a runaway train. As you’re shouting and pulsing around his cock.

With a growl, Taeyong pulls out and smacks your ass again. You fall to your side where Doyoung peppers your face with kisses as you gasp for air. He’s stroking your hair.

Taeyong pulls you off the bed and kisses you thoroughly. His hands are on your thighs and he’s lifting you off the floor while Doyoung repositions himself on the bed; back against the headboard, legs drawn up, heels planted in the mattress; all while spreading lube on his cock.

Taeyong sets you between Doyoung's thighs, watching as Doyoung works with you until you’re straddling his lap and his cock is pressing into your tight hole. With Doyoung's hands on your hips, you pull in slow, deliberate breaths as he fills you. Doyoung is moaning as he bounces you on his cock, slowly, working the lube back and forth until finally, chestnut curls are biting into your ass.

You’re leaning back against Doyoung hands on the bed by his hips, shoulder blades against his chest when he’s whispering in your ear, “you got a sweet ass, love,” before nipping at your neck. He’s working you up and down on his cock, gasping every time you clench around him, the intense desire surging through you a million miles a minute. You’re so very full, but your pussy is aching for Taeyong as it clamps down around nothing, the opaque cum spilling down onto Doyoung's balls. Taeyong has his bottom lip between his teeth and he’s staring at you with dark eyes as he strokes himself in time with you and Doyoung. Without a word, he kneels on the bed and moves between your legs. The wide head of his cock is at your entrance and your chest is heaving in anticipation.

“Just fuck me, Taeyong.” you manage to rasp.

There’s no way to describe the feeling of being filled with two cocks. All you know is that you love it. Every inch of their thick cocks in your ass and cunt. The way one cock curves left and the other curves right. How they drag against the other while one pushes and the other pulls. It’s in the way they each grunt when they hit home, when they can’t drive into you further.

You’re cumming fast and hard, your toes are curling and your knuckles are turning white as it tears you apart from the inside out; screaming noiselessly when Taeyong flicks your clit. Both men are quick to follow suit; Doyoung first, then Taeyong. They’re grunting and cursing, almost in sync, their cum mixing with yours as it leaks out, spreading onto the sheets.

Taeyong, hissing the entire time, withdraws first and heads into the bathroom to clean up. While he’s in there, you fall back against Doyoung, writhing in his lap as he begins to soften. You turn your head and kiss him slowly, tangling your tongues together and moaning into his mouth as an unexpected aftershock rolls through you.

“Jesus, love Take it easy.” Doyoung squeezes your hips before gently pulling you off of his lap. You fall to your side and snuggle into the pillows, giggling playfully as Doyoung stands on unsteady legs.

Taeyong is behind you, lifting one leg so he can clean you from front to back.

"Fuck, we're so late," Doyoung runs to the walking closet.

You groan. "I thought we weren't going anymore."

"This was convincing sex, so get your beautiful ass up and get ready," Taeyong gives you a peck.

(...)

You three are 20 minutes late to Mark's party. He doest care because he's happy you're finally there. Mark introduces you three to some of their friends and family members. They all are so nice.

Unfortunately, you don't know anyone in the party and Taeyong and Doyoung do, they seem comfortable talking to pretty much everyone.

You're at the bar and order for a gin and tonic. As you wait for your drink, you give a glance to Mark's house roof: it's unbelievably high and the paintings are absolutely beautiful.

You feel someone's hand on your shoulder and smile when you see Mark. "My mom painted them."

"What?" You asked, shocked. "How did she get up there?"

Mark laughs. "No, I mean, my mom painted them in a regular size and someone professional then came and did it."

"Oh," you nod, embarrassed. "Not my brightest moment."

Mark smirks. "You got me rambling when we met, so this is my revenge."

"We're even now," you giggle. The bartender leaves your drink on the counter and you have a sip.

"Not yet, you abandoned me in that party where I didn't know anyone," he sighs.

You bite your lip. "I'm sorry. I had too much champagne."

"It's okay, I went to have lunch with your men the other day and told me," he grins. "Go easy with the gin, you never know when it's gonna betray you."

"Bad experiences?" You cock an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

You both laugh.

Jackson arrives at Mark's house and after greeting some people, he goes to where Doyoung, Taeyong and other people are. After chatting for a couple of minutes, Doyoung and Jackson excuse themselves to have a conversation with the two of them.

As they're chatting, Doyoung spots you talking and giggling with Mark. He doesn't like it. Why, from all people you have to be laughing with him? Maybe you two liked each other from his company party.

"What do you say?" Jackson asks.

Doyoung shakes his head. "Excuse me, what?"

"Are you okay?" Jackson looks at him.

"Yeah... just," he presses his lips together. "I was looking at my girlfriend."

Doyoung looks at you again and Jackson follows his gaze. "You know, I once fell for a woman like her; all shiny, beautiful, polite..."

"She's everything to me," Doyoung says, still looking at you.

"She was my everything too," Jackson nods, "Until I wasn't enough for her."

Doyoung looks at Jackson. "What happened?"

"She met someone richer than me and left," Jackson shrugs. "Mark's my friend, but he's richer than everyone in this room and he is a charm. So I'd be careful, you know? She seems to like him... very much."

(...)

"Oh, my God, did you see the roof? I felt like I was in a castle," you say in excitement to Taeyong as you three are on your way back to the penthouse. "It was beautiful."

"I know, and the bathrooms are... out of this world," Taeyong laughs. "I mean, we're rich but Lee are disgustingly  rich."

You and Taeyong make most of the conversation until you finally arrive at your place. As Doyoung is pressing the code to the elevator, your phone rings and you smile. "It's Mark, he wants to check if we made it home safely."

"He's so nice," Taeyong smiles. "I'm gonna hang out with him more. We should, the three of us."

"Yes! He only has 2 friends here so it could be cool," you say.

You three enter the elevator and the closes door. "Do you like Mark, y/n?" Doyoung suddenly asks.

"Yeah," you giggle. "He's awkward but in a nice way. He could be a good friend."

Doyoung nods. "He's also way richer than Taeyong and I."

"Yeah..." you frown. "What about it?"

"Well, you were very flirty with him tonight," he glances at you. "Perhaps are you thinking of fucking him now?"

"Doyoung..." Taeyong grabs his arm. Doyoung yanks himself free.

"Excuse me?" You stare at him. "Who the fuck do you think I am?"

"You tell me," Doyoung leans close to you. "Are you perhaps a gold-di-"

You don't even let him finish when you slap him. "If you think I am a gold-digger then you don't know me at all. I don't care about you damn money."

"You're very impressed with Mark's life," Doyoung grips his jaw. "You want him and his money. We're nothing to you anymore."

The elevator finally stops on your floor and you get out of there. Taeyong and Doyoung follow you. You stop in the middle of the hallway and you start taking the jewelry you have on and throw the items to Doyoung. Then you proceed to take your phone out and winnow the expensive wallet to the floor. You take off your shoes as well.  "You bought all of that. Keep it. I don't want it or your money."

You walk to the elevator and press the code and Taeyong follows you. "Where are you going?"

"Apparently to fuck Mark," you say and enter the elevator. "Fuck you, Doyoung"

The doors are about to close when you stick your arm in the middle of them. "By the way, the dress I'm wearing I bought with my own money and if you don't believe me, my bank statement is on my desk."

And you're gone.

Taeyong sighs and stares at Doyoung. "What the fuck was that?"

"You don't think I'm right?" Doyoung scoffs.

"Of course not!" Taeyong shakes his head. "She's been with us for 2 years and you know she has never cared about our money."

"Or that's what she made us think," Doyoung says as he opens the door of the penthouse.

"You better shut the fuck up because I will punch you," Taeyong warns him

"Get inside," Doyoung stands next to the door.

"No." He says.

"Whatever," Doyoung says and shuts the door behind him.

[fireandfolds]

about me

tldr: yujung 유정, he/they, 20s

butch, aroace, lesbian, asian, korean united statesian, woman, menswear enthusiast

-> yes, i am a woman and a lesbian. yes, my pronouns are not she/her. these facts can coexist.

-> i prefer he/him but feel free to sprinkle in a they/them occasionally. surprise me. ALSO v important please use the pronouns separately! altho i do use more than one set of pronouns i do not like to use them interchangeably :)

i go in depth here about this

do not interact

-> if you ship elsanna, kara/monel, amalia true/horatio cousens, penance/augustus; if you like incest, age-gap relationships, genderswaps

-> mcyt stans, if you claim to have undiagnosed DID/alters/systems, if you claim other fake disorder stuff

-> cop/military apologists, republicans, conservatives, right wing ppl, fascists, bigots, christians, homophobes, ableists, etc can go away

-> fetish/nsfw/bdsm/kink pages. nothing against yall but i explain below

-> see my carrd for more DNI criteria

aroace lesbian + sex-repulsed

-> sexual content will not be found on this page, i don’t write smut and even people kissing makes me uncomfortable and grossed out.

-> my writing tends to focus on the more platonic or “innocent” romantic stuff. my fics could be seen as friendship or some other kind of relationship. i ship people in queerplatonic relationships usually.

-> my full sexual & romantic identity would be aromantic asexual lesbian. i keep things platonic mostly, but no matter the type of relationship i will always prefer women.

leftist

-> no i am not a liberal or democrat, and obviously not a conservative or republican or any other right-wing political group. yes, liberals/dems are still right-wing. fuck all of you.

-> fuck cops, the military, capitalism, private insurance/healthcare, political parties, people who want the status quo, etc.

-> haven’t read any theory but I’d align myself most closely with marxism or marxism-leninism, based on the research and reading i’ve done. commie/leftist yeet yeet

-> anti-zionist. not jewish by any means. zionism is colonialism.

-> atheist, with a background in the presbyterian branch of christianity. fuck organised religion, they’re all cults, but especially christianity.

fandoms/interests

-> you can find me on ao3, i write silly little fanfics involving my favorite sapphics. send requests if you want to see something specifically.

-> the nevers, supergirl, the haunting of bly manor, motherland: fort salem, hacks, mare of easttown, dickinson, rizzoli & isles, anything involving wlw or pretty women really. yell at me if you’d like to become mutuals and bond over a favourite show <3

-> my favourite characters: penny haywood, emily kaldwin, junlei tennyson, penance adair, lena luthor, maura isles, amalia true, jamie taylor, deborah vance, helen fahey, sue gilbert, tally craven, cristina yang

-> wouldn’t necessarily say i’m in fandoms for this, but i love sketch/improv/stand up comedy. i DO NOT like (most) sitcoms—the only exceptions being the golden girls and designing women. big fan of saturday night live, a black lady sketch show, whose line is it anyway?, etc.

-> my favourite comedians: hannah gadsby, river butcher, john mulaney, tig notaro, robin williams, taylor tomlinson, hannah einbinder, gilda radner

-> i love katie mcgrath, sandra oh, sasha alexander, laura donnelly, ann skelly, lily tomlin, jean smart, amelia eve, and gilda radner. i hate melissa benoist, jodie comer, angie harmon, chris wood, mehcad brooks, jeremy jordan, and david harewood

-> favourite musicians: hippo campus, lupin, brotherkenzie, baby boys, whistler isaiah, hozier, half•alive, early eyes, grandson, sylvan esso, peach pit, the greeting committee, still woozy, i don't know how but they found me, glass animals, ashe, phoebe bridgers, japanese breakfast, sub urban

-> favourite games: the outer worlds, dishonored ii, cyberpunk 2077, harry potter hogwarts mystery

other

-> i’m not a man-hater or a misandrist. i just…do not care about men. they aren’t interesting to me. and i’m not attracted to them. i will only focus on women, because i literally have zero things to say about men. if you’re not down, you don’t need to follow.

-> i love talking about tv shows! one thing about me is if i start a show, no matter what happens i have to finish it. if you want to stalk me and see what shows i am watching and have watched, i’m fireandfolds on tvtime. i don’t really do films.

-> my carrd (you’ll find my social media and ways to support/follow my creative work)

-> join my sapphic-centered discord if you want

shoot me an ask or dm or whatever if you want to connect. use the tags if you want to navigate through stuff. sweg!

[pl-panda]

Damienette Arranged Marriage: Part 1

Okay. I fell into the Maribat AU/Damienette ship hole and I find it quite comfortable down here. But too many fics are the same and I decided to try something else. I am awful at writing romance and prefer action, but alas I will practice on this. It might be awful, but that’s only one more reason to continue writing. I want to evolve. 

NEXT

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from and me for the plot. 

Damiennete arranged marriage: Part 1

Marinette slowly opened her eyes. She was confused. Last thing she remembered before blacking out was a sting on the back of her neck. She was just returning from school. It hasn’t been even a week since the ‘Miracle Queen’ incident. For now, the miracle box (now in its new form) and hidden in old phonograph in her room. It was one of parting gifts from Master Fu. He wanted to make sure that she was not in any more trouble.

Oh kwami! What if Hawkmoth figured I am the new guardian. And then he would know I am by extension Ladybug. And then he could get my miraculous. And if he got my miraculous nobody would be able to stop Akuma and he would eventually overpower Chat Noir and then he would get the wish and probably he would wish to conquer the world or even the universe and it would be all my fault.

Her train of thoughts was running several hundred miles per hour until it finally crashed. She moaned. Only then, she finally got the idea to look around. She was in some dark cell. There was only small window, but it was too high for her to reach. The walls were made from large stones that were perfectly polished. There was no way to break them. She turned to the other side and noticed stairs leading to large and heavy metal doors. They were reinforced enough that she doubted anyone could smash them. There was no way out as far as she could figure out.

“I don’t know what to do Tikki… Tikki? Tikki!” Only then it dawned on her that she had no idea where her Kwami was. The sedatives were slowly wearing off, but there was still a lingering dizziness. She had hard time thinking. 

There was no answer. She moved her hand to check if her earrings were in place and she was glad to find them still there. But her Kwami was gone. She had no idea what was going on. If they didn’t take her miraculous, it meant that either they didn’t know she was wearing one or they were after her for some other reason. And for the love of Tikki she could not figure out any other reason why she would find herself in such place except for her being Ladybug. Okay, she might know some celebrities and design for them, but nobody would really bat an eye if someone captured her. Okay, her parents would, but they were not important. They are important to her, but they could never pay a ransom. Now if someone captured Adrien it was another story. He was in fact captured several times, but she wasn’t a famous model…

Her thoughts started to drift into several directions. After her initial panic attack passed, she started to look around her cell more closely. The place looked old, like a dungeon in some castle. There might have been a secret exit like in one of Video Games she liked so much. Or maybe there was some loose screw in the doors… She walked to the large block of metal and tried to analyze its structure. After good fifteen minutes, she gave up. It was impossible to dismantle this from the inside. She turned and noticed that from this height, she could actually look through the window. But what she saw was not really conforming. 

The snow-storm was raging outside. And there were only rocky mountain sides visible. No houses whatsoever. the idea of Akuma attack flashed through her mind, but she dismissed it. There would be some more traces even if she was only some side victim. But at the same time it meant she was no longer in Paris. Someone not only kidnapped her, but also moved her away from her home city. She was in some snowy mountains with no idea how she got there or why was she there. The feeling of powerlessness caught up with her. She curled on her small, uncomfortable bed and started to cry.

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Marinette was awaken by someone turning the key in the doors. She opened her eyes and quickly sat up. Previously, she cried herself to sleep, but now she wanted to be ready. When you spend most of your time as a superhero running over rooftops, even if the skill is magical, you still tend to retain muscle memory after three years of constant training. Every day. For at least an hour. Maybe she was not in peak physical condition, but Marinette was definitely not weak.

A woman walked inside. She was wearing tight black suit with upper part unzipped, revealing some of her skin. She had a sword attached to her back. Her silky brown hair was loose and curly. Her face was flawless. Marinette would call her epitome of beauty. When the woman walked into the light, the girl noticed she carried a holster that probably housed a gun.

A sword and a gun!? What is going on here… 

Luckily, before she could start to panic, the woman sat moved and allowed another person to enter. Marinette used this as an opportunity to try and focus on something else. The man who entered was wearing a loose yellow robes with blue sash. He had typical asian complexion and face, together with mustache and pointy beard like that of Master Fu, except he was actually tall. The man was about three inches taller than the woman.

What really calmed Marinette was that he bowed to her.

“Greetings, Great Guardian. I am sorry we must meet in such circumstances, but the time is of the essence.” The man spoke to her in flawless French. 

Okay. So I am in the Temple of the Order of the Guardians. Marinette calmed herself, but then she started to panic again. Oh my Kwami! I am in the Temple. Temple is in Tibet. I am in Tibet. I am in Tibet! That’s not in France! She took three deep breath before looking at them again. She bowed to the man. 

“Uh… Hi?”

“I know this is confusing, but we are in dire need of your help Great Guardian.” The man spoke again. Marinette turned to the woman who was with him, but she had expression so emotionless that one could mistake her for wax statue.

“What do you need of me? And why do you call me the ‘Great Guardia’? I am still just learning…”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Wang Fu did not reveal to you who he was?” The man in robes was confused.

“No…?”

“Before the temple fell, he was training to one day lead the Order of the Guardians. He would become the next Master. We awaited his return after the Temple was restored, but only thing we received was a message stating that he named you his successor, losing memory in the process.”

“But… I thought he never finished his training…” Marinette was slowly feeling overwhelmed with this situation.

“Yes, but sadly during the attack the previous Great Guardian surrendered his position so that Wang Fu could restart our Order. Now you inherited this position.”

“Enough chit-chat.” The woman finally spoke. She sounded irritated.

“Yes. We need to proceed with the Ceremony.” The man agreed.

“What Ceremony? What’s going on?” The girl stiffened and took defensive stance.

“I am sorry, Great Guardian, but for Order to survive, we must take drastic steps.”

The woman snapped her finger and two man dressed all black with masks covering everything but eyes entered the room. They were holding ropes. 

“Wait! What are you doing!?”

“The order has fallen. Since the Temple was restored, we’ve been under constant attack. For the greater good, I had to make a deal. An alliance that will allow us to still guard the Miraculi. The League of Assassins would eventually win the siege. We did not have resources… I am sorry Great Guardian. I have failed.”

“Wha…!” Marinette had no idea what was going on. But when the two masked men approached her closer, she didn’t stand there passively. With a roundhouse kick she knocked one of them instantly and then a quick punch in solar plexus took the other one. She dashed between the two remaining opponents and tried to lunge for the doors, only to be stopped by more assassins. Behind her walked the woman and aimed her gun at her.

“Sorry girl, but it’s too important. You will do as commanded. It’s for the best anyway.” Marinette wanted to fight, but then something hit the back of her head. She saw black spots before passing away. 

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This time, Marinette woke up tied in a large hall in front of stone stairs. She was kneeling and couldn’t move. This habit of blacking out was really annoying. She noticed a golden cage next to her with Tikki inside. The parisian hero wanted to call to her friend, but a sound to her left got her attention. She spotted a boy with ruffy black hair and deep green eyes. He was also tied and kneeling. He wore black armor with golden ornaments and red cape. He did have a sword at his belt, but there was no way to reach it with hands behind his back. If only she could move closer to him…

“Oh great! The sleeping princess has awaken. Now maybe my mother will finally tell me what is going on!” He snarled at her in English before looking up. Marinette followed his gaze and saw two people appearing at the top of the stairs. One of the Guardians in his robes and the woman with gun and sword. She was holding a richly decorated cup.

“For centuries, the league of Assassins battled with the Order of the Guardians.” The woman was speaking in some strange language that Marinette didn’t know how she understood. “Neither side could get any advantage. But then, the Order fell. They were wiped out by their own creation. And now, after almost two hundred years, a great magic restored them, but in weaken state. They knew that they would not be able to hold us without their strongest warriors, so they suggested peace. A unification. Under common leadership, two organizations will thrive once more!”

“To ensure that neither side will exploit the other, “The Guardian continued where Assassin dropped. “Following the old tradition we shall bind the ruling dynasties. For now, through this union we ensure alliance and truce, but once they fully assume their roles, they shall together lead a new organization, stronger and more powerful than any before.”

Marinette looked in the eyes of the Guardian. Her emotions were bubbling and she felt betrayed. Her mentor lost his memories not so long ago, leaving her with all the burden by herself. The only one with who she could now talk about it was her Kwami. Now, for a small moment she hoped that the Order would help her. That with their assistance they could defeat Hawkmoth, but they instead kidnapped her and now they want to marry her to complete stranger. She took one more look at the boy. he was frowning and trying to get out of the bonds, but there was no way. Tikki next to her was also tied and there were some runes on the cage. She was not sure, but her instincts told her this was designed to keep Kwami bound at least for some time. 

“Don’t worry Marinette.It will be alright.” Tikki tried to conform the girl, but she didn’t sound really all that convincing. Instead, the sadness, anger and much more different negative emotions overcame her. She zoomed out and closed herself in. Tears were flowing down her cheeks.

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Damian really did not like this day. He woke up in this mess, tied, dressed in the official armor that he used to wear as an Heir to the position of Demon’s Head. The feeling of dizziness quickly passed, but only after his mother started talking the pieces clicked. He remembered the tales about the Order of the Guardians. He heard on how they disappeared long ago. Looks like they returned. He gave a side-glance to the girl. She was his age, dressed in a dark gray blazer with rolled-up sleeves; the inside of the blazer was lined in white with pink polka dots and it had black trimming. Underneath, she wore a white t-shirt with black stitching and a flower design below the collar. The design itself had pink flowers and black leaves. She wore pink rolled up jeans and pink ballet flats with dark red soles. She had eyeliner around her eyes and sports black earrings. It was miracle her makeup did not smear around her face. He then took a closer look at her. If he was to guess, she was slightly smaller than him. She had hair in color of midnight blue which worked well with her bluebell eyes. Her hair was pulled back into two pigtails, but they were messed and unruly, probably because of conditions she was kept in. Internally he growled. She was just a girl, tossed into it. The small cage next to her did not escape her attention. The small creature that looked a bit like some ladybug was trying to give the girl some comfort. She looked unimpressive for someone who would one day lead organization that could rival the League of Assassins. Or be my wife… The idea sounded ridiculous in his head, but he didn’t voice it. As strange as it may be, if he didn’t hurry it would happen. The tie was strong and tight. Strong rope was locking his hand in place in such position that even if he dislocated his thumb, it would still not help. He was completely immobilized.

Marriage ceremony in the League was always short. Thalia spoke some words, then the Guardian added some more and she walked downstairs with the cup. Damian noticed green substance in it. Instantly, his stomach rumbled. It was water from Lazarus Pit. It could only mean that some dark magic was involved this time. Usually it was just a wine, with occasional dose of poison if his grandfather demanded it, either to test them or straight up terminate. They had to drink it all between the two of them. 

“May this union prosper between you, your families and friends. In this, we take the first step in uniting the two powers, for you and your descendants to lead.” Talia spoke in the language of the League. Damian was actually surprised when the Guardian was also speaking in this language during the ceremony, but he had no idea who else was there. He couldn’t really turn around to look at the audience. 

“By the power vested in me by the Order of Guardians, I bless the union and hope that you will find peace and happiness with each other.” Marinette was sobbing quietly, long since drained of all tears. Damian scowled. She seemed weak. He felt the need to protect her and yet he could do nothing. It irritated him almost as much as when Drake painted his outfit black and replaced the Robin symbol with Coffee Bean. For someone constantly on caffeine he could run surprisingly well. 

First, the two adults walked to Marinette. She was in too much shock to respond. Her whole life, her whole future, everything she knew was right now crumbling. She would never marry Adrien. She would never even confess her love to him. Her mind kept creating different scenarios about what would happen after the ceremony. Would she be shipped to the Guardian Temple. Was this the Temple? Would she have to live with the League of Assassins? Maybe in addition to marriage they would make the boy live with Guardians while she lived here. Or there. She had no idea where she was. How would they treat her. She was their leader, but yet she felt more like a slave, forced to do what he is told. She didn’t even notice when they put the chalice to her lips and make her drink some of the substance. She swallowed the green liquid and felt it spread warm through her, revitalizing each bone in her body. She felt a tingle of pain, in every part of her body, but it was only momentary.

Damian planned on resisting to the best of his abilities. Maybe spill the Lazarus Water from the Chalice or headbutt his mother into unconsciousness. He was mildly surprised when she handled the cup to the Guardian and leaned to him, whispering in Arabic. “If you try anything funny, we will kill this girl and then murder every single guardian in existence. for once just do as you are told.” He stiffened, quickly looking at the girl who was now sitting a bit more calm, but still anxious. He did not want her to die because of him, but allowing the League of Assassins to get even more power was also bad. He had to make a choice quick. The guardian approached him with the chalice and slowly lifted it to his lips. Damian looked at the girl once more and felt some pain in his heart. She didn’t deserve any of this. She looked so… normal. With a sight, he accepted the other half of the liquid, allowing it to travel through him and revitalize his body into the peak condition, fixing any damage he might have had.

With that, the ceremony ended. there were no more words, no more nothing. Some of the mooks untied him and Marinette. Talia walked to the scared girl.

“Now. I hope you will be good for my son. And neither of you ever think of breaking this.” She threatened them. “If you do, the League will return to war with the Order of the Guardians. And you will both be killed.” She let the threat hang in the air before walking away. The Guardian left already, leaving Marinetter alone with Damian. 

“I am so sorry they dragged you into this!” She started to apologize to him and trying to hug him. His instincts told him to push her away, but he was too stunned to follow on it. This girl was actually apologizing him for her life being ruined? Just where did his mother find her?

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Justice Chapter 1: How?

This is a mini series (hahaha mini series... ok) about the MC in the ReWritten Series, now named Uesugi Yoko. What happens to her after she’s left in Japan by the Caesar Team and what challenges is she facing?

If you read, please leave me feedback! ^_^

Yoko Uesugi looked at her phone from the rumpled sheets in a black tank top and shorts. Tokyo was seven hours ahead of Rome so it would be midnight, ‘Caesar Time’. She’d cheekily texted ‘you up? >:P’, but got no response. He probably was awake, but Caesar was the worst texter and seemed to get worse the more she wanted to hear from him.

She imagined him still awake, smoking a cigar and drinking Champagne. In the Takamagahara he used to stay up all night long to work and sleep in the morning. Yoko still struggled to wake up in the morning and sleep at night, even now. Most of her studying she did at night by the light of a lamp, polishing her Japanese reading and script, studying history, and dragon genealogy. On the nightstand she had crossed off 35 assignments. But this was an accelerated pace she set for herself, not something required by the Japan branch. In fact, Anjou blithely told her that thanks to her performance on the mission, she could be excused from classes entirely.

But knowledge was power, and she needed power.

She made an effort not to bother Caesar. Her assignment in Tokyo was her business after all. He had nothing but full confidence in her ability to handle any difficulty that came her way. So it felt like she was doubting him when she suddenly wondered if what she was doing was going to end up well done in the end. 

And now she wondered if she was going to end up dead.

Months ago, she’d awakened at Cassell College after experiencing the destruction of Black Swan Bay. The disorienting change in circumstances was made all the worse when she was subsequently shipped off to Japan to perform a dangerous mission. She learned that the man who had run the human experimental labs at Black Swan continued the cruelty in Japan. Dr. Herzog set up two organizations from a single family group of hybrids, splitting families apart by their bloodline heritage either the stable ‘good’ genes of Hydra or the ‘trash’ violent genes of the Devil Clan.

He ran experiments on both groups and used violent means to dispose of the undesirable results. When he finished his research, he launched a campaign to eliminate the Devil Clan by framing them for wanting to resurrect ‘god’ that is, the Light King. In less than a week, hundreds of people were dead, thousands were injured. And those who survived had their lives torn apart.

Herzog was dead by her hand, but his legacy lingered in the ruins of the Hybrid families of Japan. Yoko’s assignment was to help heal the fracture between the Devil Clan and the Hydra. Herzog’s legacy in Japan was connected to Black Swan Bay and she knew him intimately. It wasn’t enough to just kill Herzog and call it justice. She wanted to dismantle Herzog’s entire deadly philosophy that caused the slaughter in the first place and undo his legacy in Japan down to the foundation.

However, what needed to be done was going to run her up against some very powerful people. She wanted Caesar’s advice, but he wasn’t answering. Yoko put her phone down and got up to get ready for the day.

Yoko Uesugi wasn’t her actual name. Her real name was Russian because that’s where she was conceived. Her dark hair and eyes appeared Asian, however, only her square jaw and longer nose spoke to some other mixed heritage. It was easier to just adopt a Japanese name rather than have them struggle with her Russian one.

The light was already on in the bathroom. A girl with long red hair brushed her teeth in the mirror and moved aside to let Yoko in. Erii was the one who gave Yoko her last name, fully adopting her as an Uesugi sister. Like Yoko, Erii was the result of Herzog’s experimentation and should have been killed by him. She was the chosen vessel for the Light King parasite, the so-called Tsukiyomi-no-mikoto, who could fully assimilate the genes of the dragon into her own body at the cost of her mind. 

She was horribly unstable. The dragonblood in her body was eating away at her. Yoko was in a similar state and together they bonded over their shared illness. Thankfully, they both ended up sharing the cure of the Light King’s fetal blood that saved their lives, but even this was at a great cost. The resurrection of the Light King provoked the eruption of Mt. Fuji, devastating earthquakes, and a large tsunami that killed hundreds of people. Erii and Yoko got their lives back but the scars on Tokyo were still very apparent.

Erii wrote in her notebook and held it up. “Sakura-Kun got promoted. He’s a big man in College now.”

“That’s good news. Tell him I said congrats.” Yoko runs a brush through her hair and yawns. “Hope it doesn’t get a big head.”

Erii lifted up the paper again. “He says he doesn’t know how he’ll manage.”

“I can sympathize with that.” Yoko looks down at her brush.

As soon as Caesar Gattuso, Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei left Japan, Yoko was approached by the Clan Chief, Nanami Sakurai who had been placed over the Hydra Executive Board by Chisei Gen before his disappearance. Yoko didn’t know Nanami very well other than a brief encounter where she’d furiously slapped Caesar in the face, not knowing it was him. The cold, murderous look in her eyes frightened Yoko into fleeing the elevator she was in.

But after the events in Japan, Nanami was very different. 

Nanami Sakurai had suffered from both sides of the War. Her relatives were members of the Devil Clan. Akira was less than ten years old when it was determined that his bloodline was dangerous and he was shipped off to the prison like schools for the violent. Kogure Sakurai was older, about fourteen when she was sent away. The two half siblings both died because they took Herzog’s poison and mutated. They were both killed by Chisei Gen.

Not only that, but two men she loved among Hydra died to the Devil Clan. The Kotaro of the Fuma Clan and Genichiro Ryoma.

Nanami took Yoko to an onsen and teahouse where they stayed for a week, talking and swapping stories. Yoko told Nanami the truth. The man who separated Kogure and Akira from her family was the same man who provided the poison that turned them into monsters and the same man who sent Chisei Gen to kill them. The man who did that was also the same man who drove Chime Gen to madness by converting him into Ruri Kazama. Ruri Kazama then killed Kotaru Fuma. This same man planted the Kanto Group in Hydra and induced them to rebel, an action that would lead to the death of Genichiro.

The men she loved in Hydra and her Devil Clan family were all victims of the same man who wanted to resurrect the ‘god’. Dr. Herzog.

Nanami Sakurai was silent and numb for a long time, her eyes dull. She didn’t speak again that night.

Once Yoko returned to her lodging in Genji Heavy Industries, she sent her a memo on how she thought the damage should be repaired. Yoko commented that it was important to listen to all the victims to get a full account of matters and collect evidence to document what happened first before making any decisions.

Kaguya the super computer had her core destroyed in the fighting and was still being rebuilt from a backup, but many of the records were held on personal devices and Nanami also sent out neutral representatives for witness testimony. 

Yoko had spoken to a man of the Inuyama family named Chance who gave her a glimpse of the violence during that horrible week. His family was all killed and their apartment block set on fire. The young children were all orphaned and institutionalized. But even that was only the tip of the bloody iceberg.

The Devil Clan controlled eleven of the eighteen yakuza gangs in Osaka, and the seven gangs loyal to Hydra had always been peaceful to them. But overnight the world changed. The gates of the Genji Heavy Industries building opened, black vans drove out in a convoy and the top members of the Hydra poured out. The moment they arrived in Osaka, the seven Hydra gangs launched an attack on the Devil Clan. Never before in history had a yakuza war been fought so efficiently. It was no less than Hitler's blitzkrieg of Poland. The Devil Clan gangs were crushed one after another before they could organize themselves. Seven of the eleven Devil Clan gangs declared their allegiance to the Hydra Yakuza, three of Devil Clan hold out gangs were beaten to death with bats, and the last one was disbanded. Overnight, Osaka became the Osaka of the Hydra

Not only Osaka, but also from the south to the north, all the gangs loyal to the Hydra family took action and spared no effort to attack the gangs loyal to the Devil clan. Either the Devil Clan members surrendered or their bodies were left on the street.

Hydra had almost all the information about the Devil clan, including the illegal transactions of the clan's gangs and government officials who had dealings with them. The police department received anonymous emails with evidence of the Devil Clan’s crimes, and as soon as the judge accepted the evidence, more than half of the Devil Clan members would be sentenced to prison. The officials who covered up for them received death threats. A prefectural assemblyman was suddenly lifted by a helicopter on the highway in his car, flying 500 meters in the air. The terrified prefectural assemblyman received a phone call in the air from Zuo Shang, an old-timer in the Hydra family, expressing his cordial greetings. Ten minutes later, the helicopter dropped off the senator's car in front of the prefectural assembly building, and by then the senator had become a member of the Hydra family. 

But the ‘ghosts’, the unstable hybrids, never even had the option to defect. Even though they had the blood of the Hydra family in their bodies, in order to escape, some of them used potions that forcibly purified their blood. In front of the Executive Board, which was created to kill people like them, they were just a bunch of desperate beasts. No matter how furiously they struggled, their hearts were pierced by explosive bullets filled with mercury. The aces that the Executive Board brought along with them were responsible for pouring the bodies of the ‘ghosts’ into the cement piles. The cement piles were driven into the bottom of the sea to form a neat array. The Maruyama Construction Institute, to which the Hydra family belonged, would build a shrine on that reclaimed land to commemorate the dead. 

The ghosts who did surrender would be imprisoned for life. During the Heian period, the Hydra family set up a black prison in the hollow of Mount Kobe to imprison the ghosts that appeared in the family. After the Meiji Restoration, the family was exposed to Western ideas and felt that the black prison was not humane enough, so they closed it, but suddenly the rusted iron gate had opened again. Very few ghosts surrendered however, preferring death to an eternal prison and that prison filled with their children.

Yoko had stood on the shore of the sea, looking over the rows of concrete piles under the waves, knowing that each one contained the body of a man or woman who had chosen not to be imprisoned forever and a great cold came over her. Right behind her, the people assigned as her escort and guard were the same ones who had ended these lives. Unless there was an investigation, it would be impossible to tell who was acting in good faith to repair the damage and restore the Japan branch to harmony and who would much rather let all the former Devils serve as a building’s foundation elements.

Thoughts of financial reparations and placement of orphans were suddenly overshadowed by the names of famous courts like Nuremberg and the Hague and Gacaca…

The suggestion of an investigation and trial of cruel members of the executive board went over as poorly as she expected. Where in Japan could she find impartial judges? Hydra owned everything, all the officials in the courts. No witness would ever testify openly in such a situation. Outside judges would have to be brought in. Who could be trusted with compiling such a roster? Who would be in charge of protecting them from corruption and intimidation?

The pushback was immediate. The Executive board were respected and highly regarded members of the Hydra. How could they be prosecuted for sparing no effort in stopping the Devil Clan from resurrecting god? Nanami didn’t tell anyone that this was all a plot of one man. They all still believed it was 100% the Devils’ fault and they all deserved to die. Tachibana was their respected and dearly departed leader who died saving his son at Tokyo Tower! Why were the guardians of Japan being held accountable for a war that the Devils began?

On the way home from shopping, Yoko was researching the Meiji Restoration when a bullet shattered the window. Despite there being a clear blue sky and it was broad daylight, there was no evidence to be found regarding who fired that bullet.  It was a warning shot. Only someone who was very high up in the Hydra rankings could have known where she was at that moment. The next bullet probably would not miss.

Yoko slipped on her shoes at the door and checked her phone one more time before stepping out into the hall of the Genji Heavy Industries building.

Caesar had still not texted her back.

[sjw-publishings]

Man-aging your time

Foreign Relations

(Asian twist on @dumb-and-jocked story, Corporate Progression)

Edgar Han was never fond of conferences, specially ones he was forced to attend due to pressure from his company. As a college intern, he gave it his all to ensure a good grade and possibly a head-start in his business.

He was wrong.

Working at Wong.Inc, the 21 year old was constantly asked and tasked with menial errands all day, filing papers and serving coffee. Now he was asked to be an usher for a conference meeting with TenHaken Corporation.

Dressed in a black polo and khaki pants, he tapped his dress shoes impatiently, being forced to come far too early and way before any of the other interns showed up. He was pretty lean, sort of lanky as he did not do sports. Long hair was tied to a ponytail, as he kept it maintained and groomed so as to not leave a bad impression.

He wondered if it was because they were aware that he and his boyfriend, two of their interns, were gay. But he seemed to be getting the shorter end of the stick...maybe cause he actually cared about his grades and future career, they ended up treating him harsher?

Nevertheless, he did have a slimmer of hope, maybe if he left a good impression today, he could maybe...

“Aren’t you going to shake hands with me?”

Standing before him was a tall, handsome daddy who was bulked up with muscle, thick biceps straining against his suit, and the most devious looking grin that screamed corporate evil...but....it was so hot.

“S...Sorry Mr TenHaken Sir!”

He extended out his hand, as the Boss of the other company grabbed it and gave it a good shook. Snapping his mind away from his worries...and distracting it with...his strong scent infused with cologne.

And those hands, those warm..., and manly hands.

“So you are one of the few interns that...?”

“Yes...alongside my boyfriend...”

He responded in a daze, entranced by the scent. Yes he may go through several hoops just to impress the higher ups, even at the expense of his relationship with his boyfriend, but he would never reveal their relationship in a workplace setting...especially considering some of the higher ups may be homophobic.

A brief wave of disgust shown in the Boss’s countenance, before he returned to grinning madly as he let go of the shake. Giving a firm pat on the young asian man’s back, he spoke in his richly, deep voice.

“Splendid, you’d be perfect...”

The man sauntered into the conference room, bringing along most of his musky aroma and thick cologne with him...but of course, leaving some behind. The young intern blinked, realising what a poor attempt of a greeting that was, and to the BOSS of the other company too!

What is he going to do?

“Did ya watch the game last night?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, a suburban looking man in a suit asked him the question, sticking out his hand with a dopey looking grin. Almost sporting a similar thickness of the cologne the Boss wore...but more mild...and friendly.

“Uh...maybe I did?”

He grabbed ahold of the other mans hand, giving a firm shake as rehearsed. He may just be an intern, and maybe he fumbled with the greeting with the Boss, but he was going to give it his all with the next few introductions.

The shake, while it was a matter of seconds, seemed to last longer in his mind, as he felt the warm spreading from the thickness of those fatherly palms, and rough wrinkles that had definitely were from the years of prime in his youth.

“What maybe I did? Of course I did!”

Of course I did? He thought, scratching his head with his other hand, which felt oddly warm as well. Mirroring the other, as those palms expanded with a former grip, sun-kissed tan bathing their digits as it spread all over their palms. Crunching the older man’s hands, as the university intern smirked.

“Of course I did!”

“Atta Boy!”

The older father figure looped his arms around him, as he...slightly reluctantly, did the same. The tan had spread down his wrists, past the forearms and to those biceps. Giving a firm masculine boost as testosterone swelled his arms, thickening like he definitely lifted a lot.

He wasn’t into sports much, but he did lift a little...especially after some pestering with Mr Craig, the really nice man from the other company. Tasked to do some stock checking and other stuff before the event, they chatted quite a bit and surprisingly had clique very well.

“So what are ya doing out here shaking hands?”

“Oh I...uh was asked to shake hands?”

“What are ya talking about? That stuff was for the interns!”

Bedgaric blinked, interns? But wasn’t he...no. He moved past that stage a couple of years ago, and thinking back, the company never asked him to go stand at the door and shake hands when he was interning in Wong.Inc.

But he felt like...he needed to do this. Setting a good example for the future interns, and hoping they don’t slack off like his lazy young boyfriend. Straightening his back, not noticing he was now about the same height as Craig.

“Its merely in my good nature...gotta reflect well on the company!”

“And that’s right why we bonded right away!”

The man beamed, feeling at ease with his colleague as they were often paired together to strengthen relationships between both companies. Despite the obvious age and ranking differences, it was clear to the company that he was fit for the job.

As his mentor-figure rubbed against his sore shoulders, his shoulder blades clacked, as it was evident that the dark tan worked its magic there. Working out and making up for those wasted years, the 28 year old definitely made gains as his back rippled against the Polo tee he wore. Strapping muscles that he could recall several men, and girls ogling after him on a daily basis. Though he was into boyfriend Conan, many others were also into him too.

“Anyways...remember that bit? TOUCHDOWN!”

“Ah yeah! Man was that CLOSE!”

Resting his strong muscular arm easily on the other man, he was really into football, though he never made the team when he was younger. Too much of a pansy back then, but Craig really manned him up like the big brother figure he is.

Often watching football during the breaks, and a couple of roughhousing with Craig and a couple of his older friends. They had a blast!

Bendgardict, being the tall and bulky asian man he is, was assigned to be on defence. Recalling the impact the football nearly hitting his core, but his strong goalkeeper-esque hands catching it...definitely something he picked up during his soccer days.

Indeed, he had played soccer a ton, he was a jock after all. Legs thickening to hard trunks, as the hot tan spread with light dusting of hair at every spot. Feet surely sprung forth, as the heavy clunking of those dark polished dress shoes now spotted his attire.

Giving a huge SWING to Craig, broad shoulders rippling beneath his attire, he crossed his arms and smirked. Clutching every football toss to his core, abdominals crunching numbers as pectorals bounced back with even more force, a defender to the core, that’s the man he was.

Standing firm and tall, his polo shirt could barely contain the rippling maturity as the sound of satisfying rips echoed his larger bod. Material shifting to a more presentable cotton, bleached white as sleeves rolled themselves neatly down his arms. Spotting on a white dress shirt with the first few buttons unbuttoned, accenting his frame like the Chad he is.

He had some hesitations displaying himself, but he shook it off, knowing if God gave him a body like this, he should use it to the fullest. God? Must be Craig’s Church influencing him quite a lot, he believed, still new to it though.

“From production manager to executive director...Eugene definitely went bonkers last night...”

“Hah! Serves him right to go against our team!”

The two of them continued chatting about work experiences, the game, and altogether men stuff. Time flew by effortlessly, alongside maturity. The Associate ranking up as they laughed heartily.

It wasn’t long until the asian man surpassed his peer in height, stopping at 6ft 2. He laughed heartily like a big brother, even though he was clearly younger...not by much, 5 years or so.

But he certainly ranked up a lot, after all, he did share similar beliefs to his higher ups and colleagues...those ‘hip’ millennials call them boomers, but their values really resonated within him. Something his...intern would not understand, with all his constant flirting in the office.

Presentability. An upper coating of expensive fabric layered over his dress shirt, as well as replacing that of his pants. Beige with faint magenta straight lines, ironing the wrinkles over his suit pants and jacket combo with a matching pocket square.

He had earned quite a handful sum after all, spending it wisely in investing in stocks and proper attire. Not like those games that millennials waste their money on.

Masculinity. This was done without question, which represented his sunbaked complexion from working out and bonding with other men in the field.

It was also without question that the ridiculous ponytail began slowly retracting upwards, with sides shaved like a real man always would, especially in sports. Combing sideways with neat dabbing of gel, as the hard crusty dusting of aftershave went all over his upper lip and strong jaw.

He was nice, but pretty jock-centred in his beliefs. Both in his faith and how a man oughta behave. Big strong and masculine, the provider of the household, man and woman.

Man and woman...?

“Will see ya and the family on church this Sunday!”

“See ya!”

His mouth instinctively responded on autopilot, as his goofy grin waved goodbye to his long time friend, colleague, and church mate. His eyes blinked momentarily in light shock, making way to the bathrooms, and quickly closing behind one of the stalls.

LOCK!

“What...what in tarnation is happening to me? Haha?”

The stresses melted away into a grin, he always had a good natured stress-free persona, even when that gay intern confessed to him when he wasn’t into such things...wait no....

He felt compelled to...what? He barely knew the intern, plus he was more into ladies...in fact, he was sure his buddy Craig mentioned something about a family right? The air conditioning neutralising his heat emitting, he quickly fished for his-

“So warm...so fatherly...”

The middle aged man tugged his breeding tool beneath his pants, letting out soft groans like he was young. Ah the younger days, so simple, when men just liked women...when men just liked women!

Blushing to himself, as he tugged ferociously, letting out loud gasps as he felt his behind tightening with a SPANK. Disciplining away any penetration like his father would if he did not excel in his studies, swelling up to a sweet bubble butt reserved for...his love one.

He was raised in a traditional household after all, strong honour and an expertise in Mandarin Chinese. Which was why he landed his position in the first place.

But of course, he thanked God for everything after coming to know him in his college days. Strictness mixed with Kindness, Honour mixed with a loving father, Mr Benedgadict Kan understood who he was, as the firm but gentle brushes against his package were too much to bear.

“Forgive me...C...C....Cindy!”

He was a faithful man wasn’t he? It feels strange to even think about such ‘millennial’ thoughts! Haha, never understood them. Thankfully his wife Cindy and him raised their children well in the lord! Speaking of her...oh man!

“Cindy...you’re so beautiful!”

Gone were the dates of a gay man, replacing by a marriage lasting over two decades. Time well spent with her, His heart pumped in love with HER! Manhood rose in length and girth at the thought of her luscious hair, and soft lips that just made the man outta him.

Man and woman

THRUST!

She is your wife, and you are her husband.

THRUST!

You are a father.

“Ooooaaaah!”

The forty eight year old asian man gave a huge holler as he let out the remains of his homosexuality in an innocent bliss, slumping back as his eyelids closed without hesitation.

Stains looped around his left ring finger as a good man stays devoted to his wife. His member remained sturdy, hard and manly, but at rest. A golden necklace materialised, symbolising the gift she got him on their anniversary.

His married hand gave a good firm pat on his pouch, instinctively putting back his tool into hiding and zipping his pants up.

Almost as if Benedict Kang never tugged his manhood by himself, only engaging in it when multiplying with his wife. He was a good faithful man after all, his new genetics beamed to reflect that as he slowly opened his beady eyes.

“Oh lordee...Where am I?”

Managing Director Kang was your all around nice boss...dad guy. Ruffling his gelled hair, he laughed as he remembered praying and thanking the lord for his successes in his company and in his life.

Prayer time was always priority. He got results done, and had more than enough time to spend time with his family as well as watch the game. It had cut close sometimes, nearly missing a business proposal due to his son’s football game in school, but he always made it in the Bened-Nick of time.

Speaking of which...

“Oh shucks! What time is it?”

He quickly fished himself up from his mediation pronto, unlocking the door and strolling down towards the door entrance of the conference meeting, he quickly glanced at his ‘IanAs’ watch.

“Just in time! The Conference meeting was about to start!”

Mr Benedict Kang flashed his most genuine grin, stress melting away from the atmosphere as his wholesome presence was made known as he jovially walked in.

“Amen to that!”

[danielslilangel]

In the Middle is How I Like It pt. 1

Part One Part Two Part Three

I had been working on solo ship smut pieces but I read a fic the other day involving Jason and Tim being together because of Marinette  (I can’t remember who wrote it or where I found it so if I remember I will give credit to the writer!) Anyway, that story sparked an idea for a Jay/Mari/Tim fic. Yes, they’re brothers on paper but i liked how her story kind of ignored that so I’m gonna just do the same XD Not sure how long it’ll end up being but i have a few scenes planned. This is just the opening scene so nothing Mature here... but be warned, there will be Mature/Explicit content in future updates. I’m not a fan of trying to format things on AO3 but eventually it will get put on there. Enjoy?

Marinette giggled at the latest thing the man to her left was saying before taking another pink Princess shot off the bar top and downing it. As soon as she put the empty glass back where it came from, the man on her right captured her attention once more with a compelling story on why he had come to Paris in the first place.

It had been a rough day in the office as she sorted through the newest flood of commissions that had dropped in her inbox after the latest article on MCD was published in an American magazine and she really wasn’t complaining about the amount of work she had to do over the next few months- really, she loved the ideas her clients supplied her with and couldn’t wait to get started on all of them, but a girl could love her job and was still entitled to a few drinks to help take the edge off of all the expectations being placed upon her.

It hadn’t taken long for Marinette to garner a lot of attention after arriving alone at the bar tonight. She had turned every single one of them away, nicely, of course, but there was just something about the latest two men who had approached her that had the black haired beauty allowing them to take a seat on either side of her and buy her a few shots.

It was pretty obvious from the glares they threw towards each other that the men knew one another somehow and their strange dynamic was part of the reason why Marinette was so interested in them. The other part of her intrigue stemmed from something much more basic… they were both fucking hot!

Timothy Drake had introduced himself first after ordering three shots of vodka that he promptly dumped into his thermos of what smelled like exceptionally strong coffee. He wasn’t tall by usual standards, but Marinette was short so she considered everyone tall by default. His dark hair and blue eyes drew her in and she had been unable to resist smiling up at him as he asked “is this seat taken?” He was apparently a CEO of a large American business which fascinated Marinette as he couldn’t have been more than twenty-three. When she said as much he laughed and told her that her skills of deduction were spot on and that he was indeed a young business man her age, but he had help getting the job as it was his father’s company he ran.

“Not that I don’t absolutely deserve the position. I worked hard to convince him to give me a chance. I have quite a few degrees and have helped the company grow exponentially since I took over for Dad.” His voice wasn’t smug or boastful at all as he told her about himself and it was quite refreshing for Mari. She was used to the air of diva that often surrounded those with wealthy parents. After all, she had gone to school with Chloe Bourgeois all those years.

Jason Todd had arrived about ten minutes after Tim and had captured Marinette’s attention as well, though he was almost as opposite from the other man as one could be. Tall and muscular with toxic green eyes that seemed to glow in the bar’s dim lighting and a rebellious white streak running through his black hair- everything about Jason screamed bad boy while everything about Tim screamed unknowingly-attractive nerd. Jason was unapologetically loud as he chucked his motorcycle helmet onto the wooden bar and ordered a Jack and Coke. His eyes surveyed the room in a practiced way that told Marinette he was accustomed to trouble before his gaze landed on her. His broody scowl instantly evaporated and a brilliant smile lit up his face as he plopped down on the stool next to the small Asian girl. She had expected a cheesy pickup line out of someone who looked and acted like him, but Jason surprised her by asking her name and what brought her to the bar tonight. Their conversation flowed with ease and she couldn’t help but laugh at the jokes he told.

As compelling as he was, she couldn’t forget about the man to her left and after enjoying some time getting to know Jason, Marinette leaned backwards to introduce the two men to one another. She quickly realized how unnecessary that was as they greeted one another briskly.

“Jay.”

“Timmy.”

She had been quickly caught up in a game of 'capture the girl's attention' and had been unable to figure out their connection to one another, but Marinette felt a growing suspicion in the back of her mind that seemed to be getting closer to confirmation as the two kept up their own conversations with her.

“Mhmm,” she nodded and agreed with whatever Jason had last said as she pulled out some bills from her handbag and placed them on the bar as payment for her drinks. She took a final sip of her pink lemonade martini and leaned back in the stool before pointing a manicured finger in the direction of both men. “So… you two know each other, right?”

The pair sighed in surround sound before answering “yes” in dulled unison.

“Right. So, have you guys ever…” she trailed off with a smirk on her face, her hands gesturing in a way that left no need to imagine what she was asking them about. “Cause I’m sensing some serious pent up energy here.”

Jason choked on his drink and nearly spit it out while Tim took a moment to chug the rest of his.

“Never,” they answered in unison again and it only made Mari's smile grow more feral as she hopped off the barstool, heels clicking against the tile, and straightened out her mini skirt.

“I guess that means the two of you would be opposed to joining me at my place tonight?” Her voice was nothing but soft and sweet even as her eyes drank in every inch of the men who were both stunned into silence and left blushing as she pulled out a single scrap of paper from her bag and jotted down her address before placing it upon the stool where she had sat. “When the two of you manage to pick your jaws up off of the floor, I hope you also manage to make your way here this evening. Au revoir.” She winked and waved at them before strutting out of the bar and to hail a cab to take her back to her loft.

I cannot believe I just invited both of them back to my place, she thought as the cold Parisian air nipped at her face, sobering her up just enough to process what she had actually just done. Oh God…

She was pulled out of her mental spiraling before it could begin by a large hand reaching around her to open the cab's door as it pulled up alongside the curve. She arched an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, genuinely surprised to see that Jason was to her right again. She was even more surprised to notice that Tim had appeared on her left. Neither men said a word or made eye contact as the three of them slid onto the back seat with Mari in the middle. In fact, the- thankfully- short and silent car ride was only interrupted by Marinette giving directions to the driver before settling back against the warm leather. She hadn’t exactly thought out her plan of asking them both back to her home and she still wasn’t really sure what was going to happen, but she felt the alcohol strengthening her resolve and she was not about to turn an opportunity like this down. Both men took up a lot of space so Marinette was quite smushed between them and could feel their warmth radiating throughout the tiny space and the close proximity made it hard to think about anything else but being between them.

“Merci.” She thanked the driver and passed over the payment for the ride before sliding out of the car after Tim who had reached a hand in to help her with her exit. She made it a few steps towards her door before looking back behind her and noticing the men standing still awkwardly alongside the road.

“You boys coming or will I have to do that alone tonight?”

More pink rose to the cheeks before they lurched forward in sync, following after the her like a pair of puppies.

[lokisrare]

yours

PART TWO HERE

pairings: george mackay x ofc

word count: 1.8k

a/n:  this was going to be a smut but then decided to cut that part off lmao, just the teasing, k i’m leaving, bye love you.

Black and white. That was tonight’s theme at this place.

To say she wasn’t a big fan of this place would’ve been a lie, her most remarkable memories happened here; it had kind of a grungy vibe but with all the flashlights and the common dance music, it looked just like other night club.

“Sex on the beach?” The bartman asked. Miles. He was this incredibly tall blonde guy every girl wanted but yet, he was married, and to another extremely beautiful guy with asian features. It’s was like a race, she always thought, who’s the one who looks more like a god.

“Please,” she said looking at the group of girls going for another round of tequila while they all greeted Mary, the girl who she had come with. She just stayed behind to order her usual cocktail before arriving, tequila was just not her thing anymore.

“They’re gonna regret all those rounds tomorrow” Miles laughed a little while finishing her cocktail, “here you go, try not to ruin this for you too or you won’t be able to drink anything.”

She scoffed.

“Beer is always there for me.”

“Touche, Miss. Have a great night!”

Her teenage years where mostly a blur, the nights out and the illegal parties she got into with the five girls sitting a few meters away had their collateral effects, like not being able to even smell tequila and some other alcoholic beverages. Sometimes she’d wonder if a feeling of regret should go along with those memories but no, not even a little bit of shame; teenage years were made to leave freely and to explore and that’s exactly what she did.

“Danna!” A red hair got up from the table and -literally- jumped on her, the pink glittery veil she was wearing making her nose hitch as the girl hugged her, “I’ve missed you a lot, but like, A LOT.”

“Clara, you saw me three days ago.” Danna giggled. Clara was a lightweight but who could blame her, it was her last night as a not-married-woman as she liked to say.

Clara was a young soul and Danna would’ve never imagined she’d be the first one getting married but Kit came into the picture and things changed, he was a good guy and so much like her friend, a made-for-each-other kinda thing.

“Oh, right. But who cares I always miss you, we used to see each other everyday!”

“That was 5 years ago during high school, Clari.” Danna laughed while the red haired shrugged and took her arm turning both of them around.

“Ugh, doesn’t matter! Here are the girls! And those two there are my sisters in law.”

Danna greeted everyone on the table, they talked a little, the typical chat:

How are you?

How’s work?

How’s life, basically. And that was it, then the rounds of vodka started and after a few of them she could already feel a little bit tipsy, laughing about the stupidest thing.

“So, Danna” Lacey asked from across the table, “How’s George? When are we getting another wedding?” she asked and everyone around cheered except for her, of course, as she remembered the events occurred some hours ago.

“You’re acting like a child, Danna!” George shouted from behind as he followed her into the room.

“Acting like a child? I’m just asking for a little respect over here.” She turned on her heels looking at him with a death glare, “I’m fucking aware your job includes some kissing and stuff sometimes and I can take that, what I can’t stand is this stupid ass bitch throwing herself at you every goddamn time, even when I’M THERE. Does she even know you’re taken?”

George looked down at her. The tension was thick enough to cut it with a knife and right then she felt like punching him on his perfect teeth. Asshole.

“She’s 25 years older than me, Danna, and is married, do you really think she’s doing that? Of course you’re being childish, and yes, she knows you’re my girlfriend, everyone knows.” He said annoyed.

“Fine George, let’s put this the other way around because I think your brain might not be working right know.” George scoffed, rolling his eyes and Danna felt like showering him with curses.

“You go visit me at my work place and Logan’s there, you know I see him as a friend but he’d always wanted more, and he’s there and he’s touching my hair and winking at me all flirty and not so subtly inviting me out for a drink, what the fuck would you do, George, uh?” He just stared at her and then sighed, not knowing what to say.

“Exactly. Now if you excuse me I’m gonna go over to Mary’s to get ready there and while I’m gone, go fuck yourself, George. You’re childish.”

She felt someone snapping their fingers right in front of her face, now everyone on the table looking expectant, waiting for her answer. Ugh, she hated it. The whole attention thing.

“Uhm, we don’t know yet, George’s new project will take kinda long and now that I’m in charge of the magazine it’s not like we have the time to think about it. Plus we’ve only been dating for 8 months, Lacey.” Danna explained letting out a nervous laugh.

“Duh, I know, but you’ve known each other for like, what, for years now? It just took you guys way too long to realize you were head over heels for each other.”

Go to hell, Lacey. Danna wanted to disappear, she hated talking about her relationship and now everyone seemed interested on it.

“Yeah, I guess, you’ll be the first one to know if there’s a proposal.”

Lacey nodded, happy with the answer she got, letting out an ear-killing shout and then everyone just kept talking (screaming) while Danna just sinked a little on her place, she kinda regretted reacting that way with George but also the alcohol in her system told her he deserved it, so she grabbed the vodka shot in front if her and drank it.

George had a bad temper but so did she and even though most of the time they agreed on many things they were jealous people, the problem was that Danna accepted it, while he didn’t and she hated that.

Clara clapping got her out of the bubble.

“Fiiiiiiine, the boys are here, you know girls, Kit and I decided to end the night together, our not-married-yet celebrations joining, yay!” Clara cheered as she waved at her soon-to-be husband coming our way with other men behind him, one of those being George.

Oh fuck me, Clara. Why.

Almost too violently, Danna got it rid of her blazer, adjusting her lacy white top and her black leather skirt, she didn’t know why was she doing it, was she nervous to see him? like a fucking teenager? Obviously not, but she did wanted him to look at her.

When the group of men got to the table, they greeted everyone with a smile and that’s when George landed his eyes on her, down to her cleavage and staring little too much, the whole situation sending a shiver through her whole body. He stood there watching her like it was just the two of them.

“I love this song! oh my God! Let’s go dance people! Party’s on!” Clara got up taking Kit’s hand dragging him into the dance floor, followed by everyone else. Except for George and Danna.

She got up slowly, fixing her skirt. When she looked up, George was standing there and maybe if she still wasn’t so mad, she would’ve gone straight to kiss him right there because of how delightful he looked with those black jeans and the white half buttoned shirt.

When she tried to walk past him, George grabbed her arm bringing her back, their chests touching slightly.

“I’m sorry.” He said against her ear and Danna let out a sarcastic laugh. Maybe she was being childish now not letting the whole thing go but she was tipsy and he was an asshole earlier.

“I’m sure you are. You should, actually. Now if you excuse me I’d like to go dancing and celebrate with my friends.” She tried to let go of his hand but George was quicker and grabbed her by the waist to hold her still, pushing her against the nearest wall.

“Stop asking like that, Danna.” He almost growled.

“Like what, George? I’m literally just trying to leave to dance with my girlfriends.” Danna said looking at him with an innocent expression.

She knew she was pushing his buttons but it would’ve been a lie not to say the most pleasant thing to watch was him flustered, his cheeks turning carmine as he clenched his jaw, the veins on his neck showing and breathing becoming uneven.

Danna’s eyes closed as George lingered his lips against the crook of her neck, not kissing, not sucking just caressing it with his soft lips, earning a sigh from her. She felt so glad they were in a dark corner.

“I told I was sorry. I would never flirt with anyone and disrespect you like that.” George said with his lips still gracing her skin. “I like you, I’m yours, Danna. All yours.”

“I just hate that woman, I’m all about sorority but she keeps making it hard for me.” George laughed at her remark and Danna furrowed her eyebrows. “Don’t laugh, you idiot. It’s true. I just hate her touching you and looking at you and kissing your lips.”

Danna’s fingers went to his cheek so their faces were mere inches apart, noses touching. George looked at her lips and smiled looking back into her eyes.

“You look stunning, y'know? Absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking.”

George said and finally kissed her. Lips moving in sync as his hands held her waist tighter, Danna hands moving to touch his exposed chest feeling his soft skin. George bit her lip and that was it for the kiss to become more desperate, his hands traveled down as she pulled his hair a little too strong. The tension growing every second as they kissed in that dark corner feeling like two hormonal teenagers all over again.

“Oh sorry, I was just looking for my purse!” someone said making both of then jump.

One of Clara’s sister in law was standing there looking completely ashamed.

“It’s ok. Don’t worry, just making up here.” Danna shrugged it off and George giggled a little. The girl smiled shyly at the both of them and left quickly.

When Danna turned to look at George she felt like leaving the place right then, even though it was not possible since she promised Clara she’d stay till the end. He stood there, his hair a mess and cheeks red, his lips were swollen and stained with her red lipstick, his white shirt a mess.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer, sweetheart.” he said getting closer to her, he grabbed her throat and caressed the skin with his thumb, his eyes looking straight to her lips, “We’re going dancing now, and then I’m taking you home so I can show you don’t need to be jealous of any other woman.”

His hands gripping just little hit harder bringing her closer, so he could kiss her one last time.

“I’m yours, Danna. Yours.”

[96harmony96]

Chapter 2

Just before I exited the elevator into the vestibule of Waters Field & Leaman, the advertising firm I worked for on the twentieth floor, Lauren whispered in my ear, “Think about me all day.”

I squeezed her hand surreptitiously in the crowded car. “Always do.”

She continued the ride up to the top floor, which housed the headquarters of Jauregui Industries. The Crossfire was her, one of many properties she owned throughout the city, including the apartment complex I lived in.

I tried not to pay attention to that. My mom was a career trophy wife. She’d given up my father’s love for an affluent lifestyle, which I couldn’t relate to at all. I’d prefer love over wealth any day, but I suppose that was easy for me to say because I had money—a sizable investment portfolio—of my own. Not that I ever touched it. I wouldn’t. I’d paid too high a price and couldn’t imagine anything worth the cost.

Megumi, the receptionist, buzzed me through the glass security door and greeted me with a big smile. She was a pretty woman, young like me, with a stylish bob of glossy black hair framing stunning Asian features.

“Hey,” I said, stopping by her desk. “Got any plans for lunch?”

“I do now.”

“Awesome.” My grin was wide and genuine. As much as I loved Cary and enjoyed spending time with him, I needed girlfriends, too. Cary had already started building a network of acquaintances and friends in our adopted city, but I’d been sucked into the Lauren vortex almost from the outset. As much as I’d prefer to spend every moment with her, I knew it wasn’t healthy. Female friends would give it to me straight when I needed it, and I was going to have to cultivate those friendships if I wanted them.

Setting off, I headed down the long hallway to my cubicle. When I reached my desk, I put my bag and purse in the bottom drawer, keeping my smartphone out so I could silence it. I found a text from Cary: I’m sorry, baby girl.

“Cary Taylor,” I sighed. “I love you . . . even when you’re pissing me off.”

And he’d pissed me off royally. No woman wanted to come home to a sexual clusterfuck in progress on her living room floor. Especially not while in the middle of a fight with her new girlfriend.

I texted back, Block off the wknd 4 me if u can.

There was a long pause and I imagined him absorbing my request. Damn, he texted back finally. Must be some ass kicking u have planned.

“Maybe a little,” I muttered, shuddering as I remembered the . . . orgy I’d walked in on. But mostly I thought Cary and I needed to spend some quality downtime together. We hadn’t been living in Manhattan long. It was a new town for us, new apartment, new jobs and experiences, new partners for both of us. We were out of our element and struggling, and since we both had barge loads of baggage from our pasts, we didn’t handle struggling well. Usually we leaned on each other for balance, but we hadn’t had much time for that lately. We really needed to make the time. Up for a trip to Vegas? Just u and me?

Fuck yeah!

K . . . more later. As I silenced my phone and put it away, my gaze passed briefly over the two collage photo frames next to my monitor—one filled with photos of both of my parents and one of Cary, and the other filled with photos of me and Lauren. Lauren had put the latter collection together herself, wanting me to have a reminder of her just like the reminder she had of me on her desk. As if I needed it . . .

I loved having those images of the people I loved close by: my mom with her golden cap of curls and her bombshell smile, her curvy body scarcely covered by a tiny bikini as she enjoyed the French Riviera on my stepdad’s yacht; my stepfather, Richard Stanton, looking regal and distinguished, his silver hair oddly complementing the looks of his much younger wife; and Cary, who was captured in all his photogenic glory, with his lustrous brown hair and sparkling green eyes, his smile wide and mischievous. That million-dollar face was starting to pop up in magazines everywhere and soon would grace billboards and bus stops advertising Grey Isles clothing.

I looked across the strip of hallway and through the glass wall that encased Mark Garrity’s very small office and saw his jacket hung over the back of his Aeron chair, even though the man himself wasn’t in sight. I wasn’t surprised to find him in the break room scowling into his coffee mug; he and I shared a java dependency.

“I thought you had the hang of it,” I said, referring to his trouble with the one-cup coffee maker.

“I do, thanks to you.” Mark lifted his head and offering a charmingly crooked smile. He had gleaming dark skin, a trim goatee, and soft brown eyes. In addition to being easy on the eyes, he was a great boss—very open to educating me about the ad business and quick to trust that he didn’t have to show me how to do something twice. We worked well together, and I hoped that would be the case for a long time to come.

“Try this,” he said, reaching for a second steaming cup waiting on the counter. He handed it to me and I accepted it gratefully, appreciating that he’d been thoughtful about adding cream and sweetener, which was how I liked it.

I took a cautious sip, since it was hot, then coughed over the unexpected—and unwelcome—flavor. “What is this?”

“Blueberry-flavored coffee.”

Abruptly, I was the one scowling. “Who the hell wants to drink that?”

“Ah, see . . . it’s our job to figure out who, then sell this to them.” He lifted his mug in a toast. “Here’s to our latest account!”

Wincing, I straightened my spine and took another sip.

* * *

I was pretty sure the sickly sweet taste of artificial blueberries was still coating my tongue two hours later. Since it was time for my break, I started an Internet search for Dr. Terrence Lucas, a man who’d clearly rubbed Lauren the wrong way when I’d seen the two men together at dinner the night before. I hadn’t gotten any further than typing the doctor’s name in the search box when my desk phone rang.

“Mark Garrity’s office,” I answered. “Camila Cabello speaking.”

“Are you serious about Vegas?” Cary asked without preamble.

“Totally.”

There was a pause. “Is this when you tell me you’re moving in with your billionaire girlfriend and I’ve got to go?”

“What? No. Are you nuts?” I squeezed my eyes shut, understanding how insecure Cary was but thinking we were too far along in our friendship for those kinds of doubts. “You’re stuck with me for life, you know that.”

“And you just up and decided we should go to Vegas?”

“Pretty much. Figured we could sip mojitos by the pool and live off room service for a couple days.”

“I’m not sure how much I can pitch in for that.”

“Don’t worry, it’s on Lauren. her plane, her hotel. We’ll just cover our food and drinks.” A lie, since I planned on covering everything except the airfare, but Cary didn’t need to know that.

“And she’s not coming with us?”

I leaned back in my chair and stared at one of the photos of Lauren. I missed her already and it’d been only a couple of hours since we’d been together. “she’s got business in Arizona, so she’ll share the flights back and forth, but it’ll be just you and me in Vegas. I think we need it.”

“Yeah.” He exhaled harshly. “I could do with a change of scenery and some quality time with my best girl.”

“Okay, then. She wants to fly out by eight tomorrow night.”

“I’ll start packing. Want me to put a bag together for you, too?”

“Would you? That’d be great!” Cary could’ve been a stylist or personal shopper. He had serious talent when it came to clothes.

“camila?”

“Yeah?”

He sighed. “Thank you for putting up with my shit.”

“Shut up.”

After we hung up, I stared at the phone for a long minute, hating that Cary was so unhappy when everything in his life was going so well. He was an expert at self-sabotage, never truly believing he was worthy of happiness.

As I returned my attention to work, the Google search on my monitor reminded me of my interest in Dr. Terry Lucas. A few articles about her had been posted on the Web, complete with pictures that cemented the verification.

Pediatrician. Forty-five years of age. Married for twenty years. Nervously, I searched for “Dr. Terrence Lucas and wife,” inwardly cringing at the thought of seeing a golden-skinned, long-haired blonde. I exhaled my relief when I saw that Mrs. Lucas was a pale-skinned woman with short, bright red hair.

But that left me with more questions. I’d figured it would be a woman who’d caused the trouble between the two men.

The fact was, Lauren and I really didn’t know that much about each other. We knew the ugly stuff—at least she knew mine; I’d mostly guessed her from some pretty obvious clues. We knew some of the basic cohabitation stuff about each other after spending so many nights sleeping over at our respective apartments. she’d met half of my family and I’d met all of her. But we hadn’t been together long enough to touch on a whole lot of the periphery stuff. And frankly, I think we weren’t as forthcoming or inquisitive as we could’ve been, as if we were afraid to pile any more crap onto an already struggling relationship.

We were together because we were addicted to each other. I was never as intoxicated as I was when we were happy together, and I knew it was the same for her. We were putting ourselves through the wringer for those moments of perfection between us, but they were so tenuous that only our stubbornness, determination, and love kept us fighting for them.

Enough with making yourself crazy.

I checked my e-mail, and found my daily Google alert on “Lauren Jauregui.” The day’s digest of links led mostly to photos of Lauren, in black tie sans tie, and me at the charity dinner at the Waldorf Astoria the night before.

“God.” I couldn’t help but be reminded of my mother when looking at the pictures of me in a champagne Vera Wang cocktail dress. Not just because of how closely my looks mirrored my mom’s—aside from my hair being brown, long and straight—but also because of the mega-mogul whose arm I graced.

sinu Cabello Barker Mitchell Stanton was very, very good at being a trophy wife. She knew precisely what was expected of her and delivered without fail. Although she’d been divorced twice, both times had been by her choice and both divorces had left her exes despondent over losing her. I didn’t think less of my mother, because she gave as good as she got and didn’t take anyone for granted, but I’d grown up striving for independence. My right to say no was my most valued possession.

Minimizing my e-mail window, I pushed my personal life aside and went back to searching for market comparisons on fruity coffee. I coordinated some initial meetings between the strategists and Mark and helped Mark with brainstorming a campaign for a gluten-free restaurant. Noon approached and I was starting to feel seriously hungry when my phone rang. I answered with my usual greeting.

“camila?” an accented female voice greeted me. “It’s Magdalene. Do you have a minute?”

I leaned back in my chair, alert. Magdalene and I had once shared a moment of sympathy over Corinne’s unexpected and unwanted reappearance in Lauren’s life, but I’d never forget how vicious Magdalene had been to me the first time we’d met. “Just. What’s up?”

She sighed, then spoke quickly, her words flowing in a rush. “I was sitting at the table behind Corinne last night. I could hear a bit of what was being said between her and Lauren during dinner.”

My stomach tensed, preparing for an emotional blow. Magdalene knew just how to exploit my insecurities about Lauren. “Stirring up crap while I’m at work is a new low,” I said coldly. “I don’t—”

“she wasn’t ignoring you.”

My mouth hung open a second, and she quickly filled the silence.

“she was managing her, camila. She was making suggestions for where to take you around New York since you’re new in town, but she was doing it by playing the old remember-when-you-and-I-went-there game.”

“A walk down memory lane,” I muttered, grateful now that I hadn’t been able to hear much of Lauren’s low-voiced conversation with her ex.

“Yes.” Magdalene took a deep breath. “You left because you thought she was ignoring you for her. I just want you to know that she seemed to be thinking about you, trying to keep Corinne from upsetting you.”

“Why do you care?”

“Who says I do? I owe you one, Camila, for the way I introduced myself.”

I thought about that. Yeah, she owed me for when she ambushed me in the bathroom with her catty jealous bullshit. Not that I bought it as her sole motivation. Maybe I was just the lesser of two evils. Maybe she was keeping her enemies close. “All right. Thank you.”

No denying I felt better. A weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying around was suddenly relieved.

“Something else,” Magdalene went on. “she went after you.”

My grip tightened on the phone receiver. Lauren always came after me . . . because I was always running. My recovery was so fragile that I’d learned to protect it at all costs. When something threatened my stability, I ditched it.

“There have been other women in her life who’ve tried ultimatums like that, camila. They got bored or they wanted her attention or some kind of grand gesture . . . So they walked away and expected her to come after them. You know what she did?”

“Nothing,” I said softly, knowing my man. A man who never spent social time with women she slept with and never slept with women she associated with socially. Corinne and I were the sole exceptions to that rule, which was yet another reason why her ex sent me into fits of jealousy.

“Nothing more than making sure Angus dropped them off safely,” she confirmed, making me think it’d been a tactic she’d tried at some point. “But when you left, she couldn’t chase after you fast enough. And she wasn’t herself when she said good-bye. she seemed . . . off.”

Because she’d felt fear. My eyes closed as I mentally kicked myself. Hard.

Lauren had told me more than once that it terrified her when I ran, because she couldn’t handle the thought that I might not come back. What good did it do to say that I couldn’t imagine living without her when I so often showed her otherwise with my actions? Was it any wonder she hadn’t opened up to me about her past?

I had to stop running. Lauren and I were both going to have to stand and fight for this, for us, if we were going to have any hope of making our relationship work.

“Do I owe you now?” I asked neutrally, returning Mark’s wave as he left for lunch.

Magdalene exhaled in a rush. “Lauren and I have known each other a long time. Our mothers are best friends. You and I will see each other around, Camila, and I’m hoping we can find a way to avoid any awkwardness.”

The woman had come up to me and told me that the minute Lauren “shoved her dick” in me, I was “done.” And she’d hit me with that at a moment when I was especially vulnerable.

“Listen, Magdalene, if you don’t cause drama, we’ll get by.” And since she was being so forthright . . . “I can screw up my relationship with Lauren all by myself, trust me. I don’t need any help.”

She laughed softly. “That was my mistake, I think—I was too careful and too accommodating. she has to work at it with you. Anyway . . . I’ve taken up my minute. I’ll let you go.”

“Enjoy your weekend,” I said, in lieu of thanks. I still couldn’t trust her motivation.

“You, too.”

As I returned the receiver to its cradle, my gaze went to the photos of me and Lauren. I was abruptly overwhelmed by feelings of greed and possession. she was mine, yet I couldn’t be sure from one day to the next whether she’d stay mine. And the thought of any other woman having her made me insane.

I pulled open my bottom drawer and dug my smartphone out of my purse. Driven by the need to have her thinking as fiercely about me, I texted her about my sudden desperate hunger to devour her whole: I’d give anything to be sucking your cock right now.

Just thinking about how she looked when I took her in my mouth . . . the feral sounds she made when she was about to come . . .

Standing, I deleted the text the moment I saw it’d been delivered, then dropped my phone back in my purse. Since it was noon, I closed all the windows on my computer and headed out to reception to find Megumi.

“You hungry for anything in particular?” she asked, pushing to her feet and giving me a chance to admire her belted, sleeveless lavender dress.

I coughed because her question came so soon after my text. “No. Your choice. I’m not picky.”

We pushed out through the glass doors to reach the elevators.

“I am so ready for the weekend,” Megumi said with a groan as she stabbed the call button with an acrylic-tipped finger. “A day and a half left to go.”

“Got something fun planned?”

“That remains to be seen.” She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Blind date,” she explained ruefully.

“Ah. Do you trust the person setting you up?”

“My roommate. I expect the guy will at least be physically attractive, because I know where she sleeps at night and paybacks are a bitch.”

I was smiling as an elevator car reached our floor and we stepped inside. “Well, that ups your odds for a good time.”

“Not really, since she found him by going on a blind date with him first. She swears he’s great, just more my type than hers.”

“Hmm.”

“I know, right?” Megumi shook her head and looked up at the decorative, old-fashioned needle above the car doors that marked the passing floors.

“You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

“Oh, yeah. Wish me luck.”

“Absolutely.” We’d just stepped out into the lobby when I felt my purse vibrate beneath my arm. As we passed through the turnstiles, I dug for my phone and felt my stomach tighten at the sight of Lauren’s name. she was calling, not sexting me back.

“Excuse me,” I said to Megumi before answering.

She waved it off nonchalantly. “Go for it.”

“Hey,” I greeted her playfully.

“camila.”

I missed a step hearing the way she growled my name. There was a wealth of promise in the roughness of her voice.

Slowing, I found I was speechless, just from hearing her say my name with that edginess I craved—the sharp bite that told me she wanted to be inside me more than she wanted anything else in the world.

While people flowed around me, entering and exiting the building, I was halted by the weighted silence on my phone. The unspoken and nearly irresistible demand. she made no sound at all—I couldn’t even hear her breathing—but I felt her hunger. If I didn’t have Megumi waiting patiently for me, I’d be riding an elevator to the top floor to satisfy her unvoiced command to make good on my offer.

The memory of the time I’d sucked her off in her office simmered through me, making my mouth water. I swallowed. “Lauren . . .”

“You wanted my attention—now you have it. I want to hear you say those words.”

I felt my face flush. “I can’t. Not here. Let me call you later.”

“Step over by the column and out of the way.”

Startled, I looked around for her. Then I remembered that the Caller ID put her in her office. My gaze lifted, searching for the security cameras. Immediately, I felt her eyes on me, hot and wanting. Arousal surged through me, spurred by her desire.

“Hurry along, angel. Your friend’s waiting.”

I moved to the column, my breathing fast and audible.

“Now tell me. Your text made me hard, camila. What are you going to do about it?”

My hand went to my throat, my gaze sliding helplessly to Megumi, who watched me with raised brows. I lifted one finger up, asking for another minute, then turned my back to her and whispered, “I want you in my mouth.”

“Why? To play with me? To tease me like you’re doing now?” There was no heat in her voice, just calm severity.

I knew to pay careful attention when Lauren got serious about sex.

“No.” I lifted my face to the tinted dome in the ceiling that concealed the nearest security camera. “To make you come. I love making you come, Lauren.”

she exhaled harshly. “A gift, then.”

Only I knew what it meant for Lauren to view a sexual act as a gift. For her, sex had previously been about pain and degradation or lust and necessity. Now, with me, it was about pleasure and love. “Always.”

“Good. Because I treasure you, Camila, and what we have. Even our driving urge to fuck each other constantly is precious to me, because it matters.”

I sagged into the column, admitting to myself that I’d fallen into an old destructive habit—I’d exploited sexual attraction to ease my insecurities. If Lauren was lusting after me, she couldn’t be lusting after anyone else. How did she always know what was going on in my mind?

“Yes,” I breathed, closing my eyes. “It matters.”

There’d been a time when I’d turned to sex to feel affection, confusing momentary desire with genuine caring. Which was why I now insisted on having some sort of friendly framework in place before I went to bed with a man. I never again wanted to roll out of a lover’s bed feeling worthless and dirty.

And I sure as hell didn’t want to cheapen what I shared with Lauren just because I was irrationally scared of losing her.

It hit me then that I was off balance. I had this sick feeling in my gut, like something awful was going to happen.

“You can have what you want after work, angel.” her voice deepened, grew raspier. “In the meantime, enjoy lunch with your co-worker. I’ll be thinking about you. And your mouth.”

“I love you, Lauren.”

It took a couple of deep breaths after I hung up to compose myself enough to join Megumi again. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yes. Everything’s fine.”

“Things still hot and heavy with you and Lauren Jauregui?” She glanced at me with a slight smile.

“Umm . . .” Oh yes. “Yes, that’s fine, too.” And I wished desperately that I could talk about it. I wished I could just open the valve and gush about my overwhelming feelings for her. How thoughts of her consumed me, how the feel of her beneath my hands drove me wild, how the passion of her tortured soul cut into me like the sharpest blade.

But I couldn’t. Not ever. She was too visible, too well known. Private tidbits about her life were worth a small fortune. I couldn’t risk it.

“she sure is,” Megumi agreed. “Damn fine. Did you know her before you started working here?”

“No. Although I suppose we would have met eventually.” Because of our pasts. My mother gave generously to many abused children’s charities, as did Lauren. It was inevitable that Lauren and I would’ve crossed paths at some point. I wondered what that meeting would have been like—her with a gorgeous blonde on her arm and me with Cary. Would we have had the same visceral reaction to each other from a distance as we’d had up close in the Crossfire lobby?

she’d wanted me the moment she saw me on the street.

“I wondered.” Megumi pushed through the revolving lobby door. “I read that it was serious between you two,” she went on when I joined her outside on the sidewalk. “So I thought maybe you’d known her before.”

“Don’t believe everything you read on those gossip blogs.”

“So it’s not serious?”

“I didn’t say that.” It was too serious at times. Painfully, brutally so.

She shook her head. “God . . . listen to me pry. Sorry. Gossip is one of my vices. So are extremely hot women like Lauren Jauregui. I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to hook up with a gir whose body screams sex like that. Tell me she’s awesome in bed.”

I smiled. It was good to hang out with another girl. Not that Cary couldn’t also be appreciative of a hot guy, but nothing beat girl talk. “You won’t hear me complaining.”

“Lucky bitch.” Bumping shoulders with me to show she was teasing, she said, “How about that roommate of yours? From the photos I saw, she’s gorgeous, too. Is she single? Wanna hook me up?”

Turning my head quickly, I hid a wince. I’d learned the hard way never to set up an acquaintance or friend with Cary. He was so easy to love, which led to a lot of broken hearts because he couldn’t love back the same way. The moment things started going too well, Cary sabotaged them. “I don’t know if he’s single or not. Things are . . . complicated in his life at the moment.”

“Well, if the opportunity presents itself, I’m certainly not opposed. Just sayin’. You like tacos?”

“Love ’em.”

“I know a great place a couple blocks up. Come on.”

* * *

Things were going well in my world as Megumi and I headed back from lunch. Forty minutes of gossip, guy-ogling, and three awesome carne asada tacos later, I was feeling pretty good. And we were returning to work a little over ten minutes early, which I was glad for since I hadn’t been the most punctual employee lately, even though Mark never complained.

The city was thrumming around us, taxis and people surging through the growing heat and humidity as they crammed what they could into the insufficient hours of the day. I people-watched shamelessly, my eyes skimming over everyone and everything.

Men in business suits walked alongside women in flowing skirts and flip-flops. Ladies in haute couture and five-hundred-dollar shoes teetered past steaming hot dog vendor carts and shouting hawkers. The eclectic mix of New York was heaven to me, stirring an excitement that made me feel more vibrant here than anyplace else I’d ever lived.

We were stopped by a traffic light directly across from the Crossfire, and my gaze was immediately drawn to the black Bentley sitting in front of it. Lauren must’ve just gotten back from lunch. I couldn’t help but think about her sitting in her car on the day we’d met, watching me as I took in the imposing beauty of her Crossfire Building. It made me tingly just thinking about it—

Suddenly, I went cold.

Because a striking blonde breezed out of the revolving doors just then and paused, giving me a good, long look at her—Lauren’s ideal, whether she’d been aware of it or not. A woman I’d witnessed her fixate on the moment she’d seen her in the Waldorf Astoria ballroom. A woman whose poise and hold over Lauren brought out all my worst insecurities.

Corinne Giroux looked like a breath of fresh air in a cream-colored sheath dress and cherry red heels. She ran a hand over her waist-length hair, which wasn’t quite as sleek as it’d appeared last night when I’d met her. In fact, it looked a little disheveled. And her fingers were rubbing at her mouth, wiping along the outline of her lips.

I pulled my smartphone out, activated the camera, and snapped a picture. With the proximity of the zoom, I could see why she was fussing with her lipstick—it was smeared. No, more like mashed. As if from a passionate kiss.

The light changed. Megumi and I moved with the flow, closing the distance between me and the woman who’d once had Lauren’s promise to marry her. Angus stepped out of the Bentley and came around, speaking to her briefly before opening the back door for her. The feeling of betrayal—Angus’s and Lauren’s—was so fierce, I couldn’t catch my breath. I swayed on my feet.

“Hey.” Megumi caught my arm to steady me. “And we only had virgin margaritas, lightweight!”

I watched Corinne’s willowy body slide into the back of Lauren’s car with practiced grace. My fists clenched as fury surged through me. Through the haze of my angry tears, the Bentley pulled away from the curb and disappeared.

[asiangirlsrockit]

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Stark’s New Intern” Chp. 12

Summary: Erik finally gets what he wants...

"You bitches ugly and dusty and none of y'all matter Money all on me, I'm feeling real flattered Walk in this bitch, straight drippin' like I was tryna get to the toilet,

but I couldn't hold bladder First class only when I'm not on the jet All the white folks keep breakin' they neck They tryna see if I'm black and a threat,

but I'm covered in green, they like "Look it's Shrek!" Bankteller sayin' my shit froze (How?)

Pockets thick as hell like Lizzo (Wow) Mukbang the beat like Trish, hoe (Damn) If you piss me off, it's a shit show 'Cause I'mma do some shit that you can't believe

Smack a bitch into Christmas Eve (Uh-huh)…"

cupcakKe—"Grilling Niggas"

Prince Francesco of Monaco stared at Prince Erik of Wakanda by way of Oakland with a glare so hot, the entire room could feel the angry heat wafting off of him. Erik pushed a cool half a million worth of chips into the center of the table and waited for the perturbed man sitting across from him to put up or fold.

Tony had a hand gripped to his face and his other hand around his stomach. Four hours of card playing had come down to this moment. Two final players facing off. Tension was heavy like wet cement bags on Erik's chest even though he felt confident that the other Prince was bluffing.

Erik had been grilling these fools the entire time he was there. He felt a little cocky about it too.

"Sun is about to come up, bruh," Erik teased.

Tony's top lip teased up into a smirk and the other men watching kept quiet. The final pot was ten million dollars in total.

Francesco grumbled and when Erik thought he would fold, the man called him out and pushed even more chips to the center. Erik spread his cards out on the table.

"Fuck," was all Francesco could say as his sorry hand was revealed.

A couple of the spectators clapped and Tony walked over and slapped his hand on Erik's back.

"Be gracious," Tony whispered to him and Erik stood up from his seat to shake out his stiff legs.

"Here ya go, big winner," Delores said handing him a shot of tequila.

Erik downed it before Tony could say anything.

The dealer collected all the chips and a silver-haired Asian woman who sat to the side quietly observing the entire time Erik was there, pulled out a chrome laptop. Tony and Francesco each handed the woman blank black cards and she swiped them on an attachment hooked to the laptop.

"Exchange complete," she said handing the cards back to the men.

Tony's eyes took in the room.

"I thank you for this evening Francesco….gentlemen until next time—"

"Wait…wait…I demand a rematch. Bring this young man to Monaco."

Francesco’s face looked pleasant enough, but his tone was serious.

"That can be arranged, but we need to get going. Night."

Erik watched Tony put on his blazer and button it up. He slid on a pair of shades and Erik followed him out to an awaiting town car.

When the driver pulled away from the museum, Tony let out a relieved sigh.

"Holy shit, Stevens. I thought I was going to shit a brick those last few hands. You played Francesco like a goddamned cello."

"He's a pro—"

"But he met his match. For years I've been wanting to beat that spoiled imp, but he always comes out on top most games. I've been lucky a couple of times, but to see him shut down like that…fucking golden. Good job, kiddo. I owe you."

"A trip to Monaco—"

"To work…and maybe a little bit of play if you do well at the Expo. You ready to work?"

"I think I'm ready. How bad can it be with a bunch of little kids?"

"Oh jeez, they are going to eat you up."

Tony smiled and leaned back in his seat.

"Thanks for coming when I called. You saved me the ass beating of the year."

"Do I get a cut?"

"I'll think about it."

"You trippin', I should get half."

"You played with my money—"

"But I won money with that money."

"I'll think about fair compensation—"

"Betta have a lot of zero's with it."

"You hungry? We can stop at an all-night spot I know."

"Nah, got somewhere to be."

Tony glanced at his platinum watch.

"Really? Where?"

"That's my business," Erik said. He couldn't keep the grin off of his face thinking about Athena.

"Oh…I see. A date."

"Somethin' like that."

They pulled in front of a brand-new skyscraper and the driver opened Tony's door.

"Have fun on your date."

Erik stared up at the building.

"My East Coast digs. Have your presentation and schedule mock-up ready by Thursday."

Erik nodded and Tony walked to his New York penthouse.

The driver dropped Erik off at the hotel and he rode the elevator marveling at the amount of money he was able to play with just on the whim of rich white men, who wouldn't blink if they never saw it again. The re-match Francesco wanted was pure ego.

Erik slipped into his suite, showered, and shaved quickly then checked the time. Six in the morning. He changed into soft white linen slacks and a creamy purple Brunelli Cucinelli cashmere sweater. Slipping on dark tan dock loafers, he felt relaxed enough to appear casual, even with his pocket stuffed with condoms. They had all day to lounge, and he made sure to have enough rubbers to keep Athena in her bed until it grew dark again.

Sauntering over to her room, Erik smelled good, looked, good, and felt good enough to rock Athena's world. The anticipation was bubbling inside of him like tea on tap about to whistle.

Knocking on her door softly, he waited for her to answer, and for a slight moment, he did worry that she had changed her mind when she didn't answer. If she had changed her mind, Athena was the type to text him and let him know early on.

When she opened the door in a silk half robe, all that deep cleavage teasing him, he felt his dick wake up a little bit, and he flashed her all his big white teeth. He tried to step into her room, but she blocked access. He frowned.

"You got somebody else in there?"

The rumble in his voice caught her attention and she bit her lip all sexy and that ticked him off. All that teasing talk and she had some other dude up in her room and didn't text a nigga? Fuck that. Erik skimmed past her. The thick hotel room curtains were drawn closed, so the room was still dark. The tv was on. One queen bed was disheveled and empty, but the other bed—

"Hey, Erik!"

The bubbly face of Maria greeted him. She wore a t-shirt and probably her favorite Winnie-The-Pooh pajama bottoms she wore at their apartment back in Los Angeles under the bed covers. Erik glanced back at Athena. She shrugged and closed the door.

"Maria and I had a little serious girl talk last night, and watched a little tv."

Athena climbed onto the bed she was using and Erik just stood in the room like a big dummy.

"You're up early," Maria said eyeing his clothes, "we have snacks if you want some. I was going to order room service for pancakes. You guys want pancakes?"

"Um...Athena?"

Erik held up his hands.

Maria's cell phone rang. She answered it.

"What are we doing?" he asked.

"She's just going to hang out for a bit. She had a bad time with you-know-who again. Not sex, just…awkward closure…I'm letting her hang out for a bit. She'll leave soon enough, just be cool, okay? It was pretty rough for her."

"Let's go to my room then."

"Climb in."

"I want to be alone with you—"

"You will be. Erik, we have all day and night. Be a friend, please? She's vulnerable right now."

"She has Giselle for that—"

"I'm not going to kick her out—"

"I'll do it then—"

Athena grabbed his arm and pulled him onto her bed.

"Kick your shoes off and relax."

Erik used his toes to release his shoes from his feet slowly and he climbed on top of the bed covers. He leaned his back against the headboard. Maria chattered and it only took Erik a few seconds to realize she was talking to Giselle. Erik held his forehead with his hand waiting for Maria to finish.

"How was the thing with Stark?"

"Good. It was a private poker game."

"Really? Why did he need you?"

"I played for him. He bankrolled me with some high rollers and I kicked butt."

"Serious? How much?"

Erik whispered in her ear. Her eyes grew big.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

He shook his head.

"Keep that to yourself. I'm tryna get a players fee from him."

His eyes drifted from hers down to the top of her robe. Her heavy breasts strained against the silk. He rested a hand on one breast and squeezed softly. Her eyes darted over to Maria.

"You can wait," Athena said. But she didn't move his hand.

Eventually, Maria got off her cell, but then the next thing Erik knew, she and Athena got caught up in a show about young fashion designers competing for runway shows and the time ticked on for two hours as the two women cackled about clothes and yelled at the t.v.

Athena ordered room service for everyone and they all ate pancakes and omelets with crispy bacon and Erik turned grumpy when the women got caught up in another reality tv show. Athena patted his head and pulled back the covers for him to cuddle under with her. Maria saw the action but said nothing about it as she snacked on more bacon.

Wrapping his arm around Athena's waist, Erik closed his eyes and rested his head on a pillow, allowing his body to savor the warmth of Athena and the sweet cloying smell of her skin.

Even with the sun up outside, the room remained quite dark with the curtains still shut, and he found himself drifting in and out of sleep. The third time he woke up from a short two-minute cat nap, he found himself getting warm and pulled off his socks and then his slacks.

"What are you doing?" Athena said glancing over at Maria who was focused on the tv.

"I'm hot with these clothes on."

He pulled the sweater over his head and Athena's eyes scanned his chest with hunger in her eyes.

"I'm keeping my boxers on."

She rolled her eyes.

"Had I known this was going to turn into a slumber party I woulda worn sweats," he grumbled.

He curled around her body again and let his arm brush against her breasts. He could feel her softness better and his dick chubbed up by being pressed into her backside.

"You making me hard," he whispered in her ear.

"I haven't even done anything," she whispered back.

"You ain't gotta do nothing but back that ass against me. Witcho fine ass."

She giggled and rubbed her hand on his arm.

Erik pressed his lips on the back of her neck and then kissed her earlobes.

"Don't…."

Athena's protests were weak and she pressed her thick cheeks back into him.

Erik slipped a hand inside her robe and it fell open easily as he caressed her breasts under the covers. Athena turned her head back toward him and he snagged a hold of her lips. Soft tongue kissing kept them quiet as the tv rattled on.

"Erik, stop, wait until she leaves…."

He pulled off his boxers and pushed up Athena's robe. All he felt was a short satin nightgown under the robe and no panties. He let his fingers drag lightly along her shaved vulva and she bit her bottom lip to keep quiet.

"She's been here four hours since I came in. I'm here to collect what you promised. If you won't go to my room, and you just letting her linger, I'm getting something right now."

Athena pressed into his erection.

"You feel all that big dick, huh?"

He plucked at her nipples and they hardened fast for him. His eyes were glued to them and when he lifted up one heavy breast, Athena reached back and gripped his dick. He fingered her clit and she shoved her face into her pillow to stifle a moan.

He teased her bud until she was squirming hard against his length. He tried to keep his voice quiet too as her ass cradled his erection and milked pre-cum from him. Both of them found their eyes darting over to look at Maria. Her back was to them because the large screen tv was hanging over the wall of the small living room area.

Erik kissed Athena again, forcing her to turn her head toward him as he tongued her down with slow wet kisses. He felt like his dick got harder trying to sneak pleasure with someone else in the room. Athena's pussy was sopping wet. The thrill of being caught probably turning her on too. An entire half-hour episode of a show played on tv as they reveled in kissing long and deep. Erik stopped kissing her when she opened up her robe and let her breasts fall out of the nightgown. He felt his manhood twitch just from looking at the overabundance displayed before him. Her eyes were glassy and her lips looked swollen from his mouth ravishing hers.

Erik reached for his pants that were folded at the end of the bed and dug in the pockets. Pulling out two condoms he stuck one under the pillow and unwrapped the other.

"We can't," Athena whispered.

Erik pulled the covers over Athena's chest and leaned back nonchalantly.

"Hey turn that up," Erik called to Maria.

"It's already kinda loud," Maria said looking over at him.

"Just a little bit," he said.

The remote was by her side, so Maria turned it up two volume levels.

Erik slid the condom down on his length and squeezed his balls.

Athena was still hesitant, but that didn't stop her from turning to her side and allowing him to line his dick up with her gaping slit. Erik looked at her opening and held in a heavy groan that wanted to fall out of his mouth. He pushed in and Athena slammed a hand over her mouth and shoved her face into her pillow.

"Told ya," he whispered, "I'm bout to get up in them guts."

Erik kept his thrusts slow, hard, and deep.

Her pussy was snug around his thickness and when she looked back at him with her lips parted and her eyes pleading with him to keep going slow, he found his own mouth going lax and hard exhales falling from his lips without any control from him. Soft rocking motions kept them content, and this woman's pussy gave Erik more nasty thoughts of what he would do to her when they were actually alone.

He pulled away from her when Maria jumped off her bed and padded into the bathroom. The bathroom fan was loud and Erik took advantage of the noise and Maria's absence in the room to start pummeling Athena's pussy. He gripped her leg and lifted it up, pushing away the covers.

"She's going to come back out!" Athena cried out.

Athena wiggled and slammed her ass back into him, but the thrill of discovery was tinged in her voice. She was turned on with the idea of being caught.

Erik slammed into her and her eyes shut tight.

"Fuck, Erik!"

They heard the toilet flush and then running water.

It was now or never.

He pulled Athena on top of him. He wanted to see those huge tits bounce. She leaned forward and not only did they bounce, but they smacked against each other loudly.

"Fuuckkk, baby…I'm cumming in your pussy!" Erik shouted.

Thrusting his hips up hard, the heavy spurts from his dick into the condom had his eyes rolling back as Athena muffled her own orgasm.

She scrambled off of him and dived back under the covers as Maria strolled casually back into the room and flopped back on her bed.

Erik felt Athena's body shaking with laughter as she covered her mouth. Erik burst out laughing and pulled the covers over his chest.

"What's so funny?" Maria asked, glancing over her shoulder, completely oblivious.

Erik fell out again as his penis grew flaccid.

"You, you're funny," he quipped.

Maria rolled her eyes and turned the tv channel.

Chapter 13 HERE

###

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