#i know i need to stop and i will this is probably the last one anyways

[enthusiasticharry]

the one where YN gets a job as a bartender in a motorbike club's bar, and Harry runs the club.

author's note: suprise!! i'm back again!! i promised i wouldn't keep you waiting and i'm not. this is the first part in my biker!harry mini-series which i started a while ago and only just got around to finishing! let me know what you think and what you'd like to see in the next instalments!

word count: 11.6k of sexy biker!harry (that's it, that's all).

WARNINGS: strong language, smut, bike riding, a bar fight and talks of a motor accident.

let me know what you think of clover here!! mwah <3

1979

“Look, sweets, I’d hire you on the spot if I thought it would be a good idea,” Mick spoke from across the bar, towel over one shoulder and another in his hand drying a glass, “But it just isn’t, I’m sorry.”

YN sighed, dropping her hands down on the bar. This was the fourth one she’d tried, and so far, she hadn’t had any luck. She wasn’t asking for much – just a job to help pay for her student loans. She had graduated a year ago and bounced from job to job, and yet none of them seemed to fit. It wasn’t necessarily her dream to work in a bar, but she hadn’t a single clue about what her dream was. She had a first-class honours history degree (which she adored getting) and yet not a single idea of what to do with it.

She couldn’t think of the future at this moment, she needed to think about the now and if she wanted to continue to live in her small apartment and eat — she needed a job.

Clovers had been her last hope. It was the last bar in town that YN was yet to try, and despite its less-than-positive reputation – it was always busy, and that meant money coming in. As she turned to look around the bar, which was already quite crowded for it being early on a Friday night, she couldn’t help but imagine the cash that was funnelling through the establishment, and how she wished she could get at least some of it.

“Can I get you a drink, sweets?” Mick spoke again, offering her a soft smile, “It’ll hopefully soften the blow a little bit.”

YN smiled at the man and nodded, “Thank you. Whisky, please.”

Mick got straight to work, placing the glass in front of her, dropping an ice cube into the glass and pouring her a more than generous shot. Just as she fumbled with her purse to pull out some bills to pass to Mick, he shook his head and held his hand out to stop it. She smiled in thanks and watched as he turned and walked away, going to serve the next customer who was standing a few feet away from her.

YN picked up her drink, and just as she was about to take a drink the door beside her opened. Her lips parted, her eyes watching as a group of what seemed to be fifteen or so men, all clad in heavy leather or dark denim walked into the bar.

Of course, YN knew about them. Anyone who lived here knew who they were, but it was the first time that she had seen them this up close. The most she had ever experienced with them was the low rumbling of their engines from a distance, or possibly them riding past her but that was only ever one or two. It was their jackets that often set them apart from the rest of the riders in the town, the very specific Clover’s Riders jacket that every member adorned and what seemed like all times.

The men were loud as they stepped in, most of them heading towards the bar whilst others went to some of the other members who were already seated in the bar. YN’s eyes never left the door until the last one had made his entrance, and she just couldn’t seem to draw them away.

He was younger than many of his counterparts, probably resting at an age near YN’s or possibly a few years or so older. He was clad in the same heavy denim that many of the others wore, but they seemed to sit on his body much easier. The curls of his hair were tousled in every direction it seemed, but YN found herself wondering as to what it would feel like to run her fingers through it.

With a shake of her head, she turned back to her glass and lifted it to her lips. She took a large gulp of the liquid, allowing that to slip down her throat before she finished the rest of it. Mick was long gone from being anywhere near her, working at what seemed like double speed to keep up with the orders that the gang of men were giving him, and she felt as though that was probably her cue to leave. She would have to brainstorm other options for work, seeing as though this just hadn’t called through.

Sighing, YN pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushed up from the stool she was resting on. Just as she turned around to make a beeline for the door through the bodies that were crowding the room, she was stopped by a body in front of hers.

“Woah, woah, little darling where do you think you’re going?” It was one of the riders, standing in front of her with a grin on his features.

“Home,” she said with a shrug.

“So soon,” The man looked over his shoulder to some of his friends who were standing close by, “Me and my buddies here didn’t even get to say hello.”

“Right, okay, hello,” YN nodded to the man in front of her and those behind him, “Really have to get going.”

The man extended his arms so that she couldn’t carry move from her space in front of him, “Let us buy you a drink little darling, I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

“I’ve already had one, thank you, and it was very enjoyable,” YN offered them another small smile, “Now please move out of my way so that I can go home.”

“Hey, none of that,” The man shook his head, “Stay with us, I promise we’ll make it worth it.”

YN hummed, tilting her head from side to side lightly, “I’ll pass but I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone else to make the night worth it.”

And with that, YN pushed past the man and beelined for the door. She half expected him to grab her, but from the hoots and hollers of his friends, he was too embarrassed to do anything else.

The bar that YN had worked out whilst she was completing her degree had taught her a thing or two about how to deal with rowdy men, and whilst the firm but clear approach worked in most cases, YN wasn’t afraid to resort to other means if necessary. It was all a respect thing, and more often than not if you deal back to them what they deal to you – the situation usually sorts itself.

YN had just rested her palm against the wood of the door when she heard someone call her name. She saw Mick standing there, leaning over the bar to catch her attention.

“Saw you deal with those guys,” He nodded his head over to the men whose attention had been taken by another woman in the bar, who seemed to accept their advances more than YN did, “When can you start?”

YN’s face broke out into a smile and took a delighted step towards Mick, “Whenever.”

“Right now?” He raised his eyebrows at her, motioning to the men who were calling his name for more drinks, “Have a feeling we’re going to be swamped tonight.”

YN nodded and immediately dropped her purse down behind the bar and rolled the sleeves of her cardigan up.

She turned to the men who were now staring at her with their mouths slightly agape, “What can I get you?”

It was a Thursday night and YN had been working at Clover’s for around a week at this point when Mick decided that she could handle a night on her own. After being thrown into what very much was the deep end on her first shift, there had been time the next day for Mick to show her the ropes properly and anything she would specifically need to know.

Mick said that he normally wouldn’t leave such a new person on their own so quickly, but he had an important family issue that he couldn’t get out of and that she had shown enough trust that he wasn’t worried. It was a Thursday, so it wasn’t going to be too busy but even so, those who were going to be there would be Riders, and they would protect their bar from anything.

It was nearing nine, and YN would probably say that they were at a quarter of their capacity, the majority of them being riders who had been there for the last few hours or so. YN was lucky she supposed. They never ordered anything more complicated than a beer, at most a whisky or a bourbon and this was their bar so there were never any arguments about paying for the drinks.

There was a lull in the orders, so YN decided to take it upon herself to dry some of the glasses she had washed in the previous lull. This job was not for the weak she would say that, but YN would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it. She loved people watching and mixed with the hum of the jukebox it was the perfect combination for her.

The door to the bar opened again about twenty minutes, and in walked that same man that caught her attention a week or so ago, on that first day she was here. He looked the same, apart from he was clad in a mixture of denim and leather this time instead of just denim, and a large bruise was sprouting from under his left eye. To YN, it was obvious that the cause was a punch, for there was nothing else that could cause a bruise such as that one. He walked into the room, ignored the hoots and hollers from some of the other men and took a seat right in the middle of the bar.

YN threw the towel she was holding over her shoulder and walked towards him, resting her hands on the edge of the bar, “What can I get ya?”

The man didn’t stray his eyes away from where they were planted firmly on the wood of the bar, “Beer, and a whisky.”

YN nodded, reaching over to pop the lid of the beer, “Do you want ice in the whisky?”

The man just hummed, so YN got straight to work making his drink for him. It was different to that of the other men in the bar — watching him. Whilst they were loud and rowdy and always had something to say to someone – he was silent. He just sat, with the company of his only himself and drank his drink.

Snapping YN out of her gaze (which had been on the man for a few beats too long) was a call of her name from just down the bar. She walked over to where it came from, a man called Taylor who YN had become quite acquainted with in the last few days or so.

Most of the men (not all, obviously) that she had become acquainted with during the last few weeks were lovely. They loved to have a quick natter with her whilst she made their drinks, some of them flirted with her but she didn’t care (it was part of the job) and nobody bothered her. If one or two of the men when they were drunk got a little handsy or started to say things which would be deemed inappropriate, the other lads would circle her and make sure she was okay. She felt safe, which she was quite surprised was the case.

“A piece of advice,” Taylor spoke over the bar as YN started opening the bottles of beer for him and his friends, “Harry over there always orders the same thing, and he’ll drink the whiskey last before he leaves.”

“Thank you,” YN nods with a small smile across her lips, unable to stop her eyes beating over to him for a second – Harry.

“He’s a quiet one,” Taylor continues speaking, grabbing a few bills out of his pocket to pay for the drinks, “But harmless, I promise. To be fair, you’d think the man who founded the club would have more to say.”

YN’s eyes widen, she had no idea that Harry was the one who founded the club. She hadn’t suspected it at all.

“He founded it?” She asked with a slight raise of her eyebrow. She wasn’t trying to pry, but there were things that she wanted to know, and Taylor already had that buzz that made her know that he would be willing to answer any questions she had.

“Yeah, it was him and a few others,” Taylor shrugged, attempting to pick up the three bottles of beer all in one go, “A few years ago now, and it only grew from there.”

YN nodded once more and watched as he walked back to his table. She put the bills that he had given her for the drinks into the register and put the tip she had been given into her apron.

There was something about that man that had caught her attention from that first day, and yet she couldn’t put her finger on it. Now, it made sense. The aura that he had when he walked into the room, as well as the way he sat and held himself – he had a strong presence in the group without even trying.

YN had more questions, but she knew it probably wasn’t the best to pry right now. Instead, she just got on with everything that she had to do. She served drinks and cleaned up after herself right up until close. YN hadn’t realised when Harry had left, but he had slipped out without a single person realising.

She hummed as she swept the floors, tried her hardest to count the cash right the first time and put it in the safe before continuing with her other closing jobs. The chairs were off the floor, as much of the stickiness in the room that YN could remove was gone and the doors were locked and checked.  

Once she had stepped outside, and locked the door to the bar behind her, the late hour catching up with her very quickly – she realised at that point she wasn’t alone.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that he was standing there, resting against his motorcycle with a cigarette dangling from between his lips. YN was confused but continued to lock the door and make sure that nobody could get inside. Then she turned, and that was when she saw Harry looking directly at her.

“Can I help you?” She muttered, fidgeting with the keys she was holding in her hand.

He inhaled the smoke from his cigarette, holding it for a second or so before he exhaled, “Heard you were asking questions.”

YN’s heart drops slightly, heat pulsating around her body, “Am I not allowed to ask questions?”

He ran his teeth over his bottom lip, placing the cigarette back in his mouth, “Can’t stop you from doing that, but any questions you have about me, you can ask me yourself.”

YN just pursed her lips and nodded, “Okay then… do you always stalk women when they’re leaving work?”

Harry didn’t seem shocked by her words, or react in any way to them at all, which was surprising to her. But, then again, she hadn’t seen much of a reaction out of this man this entire time she had known of him.

“Only the ones that have worked in my bar for a week.”

“Your bar?” YN widened her eyes, “Thought Mick owned it?”

Harry shook his head, “I do. Mick’s my employee, and so are you.”

“Do you not trust me or something? Think I’m walking away with pocketfuls of cash?”

“I would already know if you’d done that, and you wouldn’t be working here anymore,” YN just nodded, “But this side of a town can be sketchy at night, and you never know who could be lurking.”

YN just scoffed, turning to walk away from the man, “Thank you, but I can look after myself.”

“Suit yourself,” Harry shrugged, climbing onto his bike, and kicking the stand-up. YN could hear the engine turning on, the loud rumble filling the empty street.

YN continued walking, expecting him to speed past her but he didn’t. The low rumble continued down the street, even when she turned – the sound turned too. It was frustrating and annoying. All YN wanted to do was to get home, have something to eat and get in bed. Instead, she was having to deal with what was becoming an annoying rider, who couldn’t seem to leave her alone.

This continued for around ten minutes, and with each second that passed YN was getting more and more annoyed. Just as she turned onto the edge of her street, the apartment she shared with her roommate Ashley coming into view in the distance, she decided that enough was enough.

She stopped and turned around on the pavement, Harry pulling in on his bike to stop just in front of her. YN sighed and placed her hand on her hips.

“Do we have a problem?”

Harry rested his hands on his bike still, but was facing her, “No problem.”

“Then why are you following me home?” A small chuckle escaped her lips, “You know those strange people you were talking about earlier; you do know you’re acting like one of them?”

“You’re one of us now,” He shrugs, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world – it certainly wasn’t for YN at all.

“That means you follow me home?” The confusion grows with every moment in YN, and yet Harry doesn’t seem the slightest bit worried.

“You didn’t want a ride,” He pulls his carton of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one up, “Had to make sure you got home safe.”

“Right,” YN just nods, “Well, I think I can manage on my own from here. And, if I’m all of a sudden one of you should I expect my jacket in the post? Or do you do collection?”

With a final scoff, she turned and walked away from the man. This time, when the engine started, YN didn’t turn to look at Harry and instead carried on to her front door. It was only then that she turned to peer over her shoulder, just in time to see Harry speed past her and into the night.

She had an incline that this job was going to be interesting, but she had no idea just how much.

It wasn’t necessarily a normal working pattern that YN had found herself in.

Sleeping for most of the day and being awake all night wasn’t necessarily the big girl working pattern that she had aspired to when she was younger, but for the time being she was enjoying it. It did mean that when Ashley returned from her nine-to-five working as a receptionist (YN couldn’t think of anything worse to be honest), YN was just getting ready to start her day.

YN was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, a half-eaten sandwich clutched tightly in her hand. She wasn’t too hungry, but she knew that if she didn’t eat something before, she left for work she would regret it later on. The second that Ashley stepped through the door and threw her bag down on the floor, she threw YN a quizzical look.

“What?” YN asked, wiping the mayo that rested on the curve of her lip off with her thumb.

“Do you happen to know anything about the smoking-hot rider staring at the apartment from across the street?”

YN’s entire face dropped, “What?”

Ashley walked over and dropped down on the other side of the sofa, reaching out to steal one of YN’s chips from her plate. Ashley seemed slightly unfazed by the newfound stalker YN had acquired, and that stressed the girl out significantly.

“What do you mean?” YN pushed herself up, making her way over to the window where there he was. Resting against his bike, cigarette resting from his lips sat Harry, staring at the front door to the building with an unreadable expression on his face,

“He’s been there since this morning,” Ashley adds to the conversation causally, running a hand through her hair which she had just pulled out of its undo, “At first, I thought he was waiting for Sandy, you know, from 2.B but then I saw the jacket and realised he must be here for you.”

“He’s not here for me,” YN shook her head, slapping the curtains shut and walking back over to her friend, “He’s stalking me, I can’t believe you’re not more stressed about this.”

Ashley just shrugged, “Worse people to be stalked by, I suppose. He’s one of Clover’s, he’ll be harmless.”

“No, Ashley, he’s not just one of Clover’s,” YN sighed, running a hand over her face before scooting around the apartment to grab her belongings, “He is Clover.”

It was Ashley’s face that dropped this time, “What do you mean?”

“That’s Harry,” YN pulled each one of her pumps on her feet, “He founded the gang!”

“You’re kidding,” Ashley all but screams, “Jesus YN, I knew I was concerned about this job, but I think you’ve done pretty alright for yourself.”

YN just shook her head. She grabbed her jacket, and her bag and made her way over to the door.

“If I go missing, you know who’s responsible,” With that, YN turned away from her friend and rushed out of the door.

She took the stairs down from her apartment at double speed, almost tripping over her feet multiple times. She pulled her jacket on just as she got to the front door. Just before she was going to push it open, just stopped and hesitated for a second. One deep breath in and out was all it took to compose herself, and then she pushed the door open.

Harry spotted her immediately, throwing the cigarette he had in his hand a few metres away from his bike, where a collection was beginning to grow. YN made sure to check the left and the right of her before crossing the road, not quite fancying becoming roadkill this early in the day.

“You’re lucky my neighbours didn’t call the cops on you,” Is the first thing that slips from YN’s lips, before she realises how stupid that sounds.

For the first time since she met him, a small smile crosses Harry’s lips. She had amused him, and oh did she want to do it again.

“You know you can’t stay out here all day,” She follows with, “I’m going to the bar now anyway.”

“I got something for you,” Harry pushed himself up off the bike and that’s when she saw it.

A denim jacket, smaller than the others that she had seen but still carrying the ever-so-known Clover’s Riders logo on the back. That four-leaf clover was known all over town, and towns for miles in every direction and now it seemed YN had one of her own. It would open paths for her but also close them as well. She knew that the second she accepted that jacket, things would change all over again.

“I don’t even ride, Harry,” She sighed, shaking her head slightly, “I’ve never been on a bike in my life.”

He just shrugged once more, “There’s always time to change that.”

YN toyed up her options, and it took a lot less time than she had thought it would to swipe the jacket from his hands. She shrugged off the one she was wearing and slipped her arms inside the material. It was the perfect fit, exactly what she would have chosen for herself. Harry beamed another smile at her and swung his leg over his bike once more.

“C’mon,” He tilted his head at her, “I have something I want to show you.”

“I’ll be late for work,” YN shook her head, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from throwing her leg over the side of the bike and using Harry’s shoulder to help steady herself as she got on.

“You’ll be fine,” Harry spoke, and that’s when YN realised that whilst yes, she was probably going to be late for work, she was also on the back of the owner’s bike – so the trouble couldn’t be too grave, “Hold on tight.”

YN did as the man said, wrapping her arms around Harry’s waist. The second that the engine started, and Harry kicked the stand-up they went flying down the road, and she realised in that exact moment why he said tight. YN’s body lurched forward into Harry’s, her cheek resting against the leather of his jacket, and her hands tightening around him.

Once the initial fear had worn off, and YN finally peered over the man’s shoulder – she would be lying if she said that it didn’t feel in a word freeing. The wind through her hair, the chill of the speed at which she was going laced with the feeling of Harry pressed so closely against her. Sure, she had been scared but now she knew that there wasn’t anything to be scared of. It wasn’t a scary thing, instead, it was something to be enjoyed.

YN’s lips curled upwards, a slight giggle leaving them as she noticed they went speeding through a red light. Many, and by many YN meant most, of the riders had a back pocket full of speeding tickets, and lights that they’ve jumped and yet none of them seemed to care. It was as though all of the law-abiding parts of their brains didn’t function when they were on bikes. On second thought, even when they weren’t on the bikes the law-abiding parts of their brain didn’t function.

Harry pulled over just as they joined the road which took them out of the city. They had completely passed Clover’s, and YN hadn’t the faintest clue of how late she was for work at this point, but it didn’t matter. It would take a lot for this smile to leave her face today. Once the bike came to a stop, YN used Harry’s shoulder to push up off of it.

Harry sits on the bike, but his eyes never leave the girl. The way she almost looked like a baby deer as she got her grounding once she was off the bike, the way her hair stuck out in every and all directions, and most importantly the beaming smile that never left her face. For the first time in a long time, there were no thoughts in YN’s head. There were no worries about growing up and getting a proper job, or stress about money – it was completely and utterly freeing. She supposed that was why there were so many of the riders and she supposed they were all chasing that feeling.

“You’ve got to teach me how to ride,” She sighed, the blissful smile never leaving her lips.

Harry just nodded, “Whenever you want.”

“Really?” Her face widened in excitement.

Harry shrugged, “You’ve gotta know how to ride if you’re going to be a rider.”

YN just nodded, and almost jumped back onto the bike. Harry didn’t say anything when she wrapped her arms back around his waist, not a single gap between their bodies but it just felt so comfortable. Harry kicked the stand down once more and sprang straight into action, turning slowly around on the road before speeding up the second they were on the straight back to the town.

All YN knew was that she was going to savour the feeling of the wind in her hair.

It was another Saturday night, and it was packed in the bar.

YN was so thankful that she could stay behind the safety of the actual bar and not venture out into the rest of the room. The men had just come back from a ride, and they were all excited and loud and wanting nothing but drink upon drink upon drink. She had been there from earlier on in the day today, and when Mick showed up later in the evening, she hadn’t managed to utter a single word but hello to him since.

All she could think of was the fact that once the rush had died down, it would be her time to go home and rest. In what felt like a very long few months of working every day (at first YN hadn’t minded, but she was slowly getting more and more burnt out) it was finally time for her to have a day off. Mick had graciously said to her the other day that he could handle Sunday on his own, and those words felt like gold slipping from his lips. She didn’t have a single clue of what she was going to do with her day, all she knew was that it was going to be relaxing.

She just had to get through this night first.

At first, the night seemed fine. Everyone was in good spirits and there was nothing more than a few drunken disagreements that sorted themselves out. YN had taken that as the opportunity to make her way over to where Harry was sitting and replenish his beer while he was there. It was then that the door was thrown open, and the entire atmosphere in the room changed.

What had at first been a lovely evening had changed within the second, and it was all because of a man that she hadn’t recognised. He didn’t have a rider’s jacket on his back, and that should have been YN’s first clue that this man was going to be in trouble. This was a riders’ bar, and those jackets were almost like a rite of passage. Without one, people stuck out like a sore thumb.

It became even more obvious to YN when the man beelined straight over to where Harry was sitting. He didn’t sit and instead leant over Harry, so his focus was on him. YN stayed close, but she didn’t want to make it too obvious that she was listening. She wasn’t the only one either – she could see other riders peering over at them from where they were sitting.

“You said if I did it, I’d get my jacket,” Those were the first words that came out of the man’s mouth – not even a greeting of hello, “I did it. Where’s the fucking jacket?”

Harry didn’t say anything for a second or so. Instead, he lifted his recently replenished beer to his lips and took a swag. He was doing as he always did – taking his sweet darn time.

“I said I’d think about it,” Harry mumbles, shrugging slightly as he did, “I’ve thought about it… and no.”

The man smacks his hand down onto the bar top, the sound echoing throughout the room. It silenced everyone, and all eyes turned to the two men. YN’s eyes looked towards Mick with a panicked expression on them but he shook his head, hoping that would calm the girls down.

“That wasn’t the fucking deal,” The man spits, coming right up into Harry’s face but it didn’t seem to deter the man at all, “The deal was to drop the shipment, I get the fucking jacket.”

Harry finally turned to look at the man, his stern expression never wavering, “Do you think I want someone like you, someone that doesn’t listen wearing one of my jackets?”

The man didn’t like that response, and it seemed as though as quickly as YN could blink her eyes the man was grasping the lapels of Harry’s jacket and pulling him up from the stool. He was then pushed straight into the bar, a slight grunt leaving his lips as he did. There was the initial sound of beer stools scratching on the floor, and other Riders were reading to split the two men up but all it took was Harry lifting one of his hands and they all stopped in their places.

“I don’t want someone who’s that willing to fight one of his men wearing a jacket.”

That was all it took for the other man to make the first punch. His arm pulled backwards, and his fist hit Harry straight across the jaw. The skin immediately went red, but Harry didn’t look like a man who had just been hit straight across the jaw. The bar stayed silent, obviously waiting for whatever Harry’s retaliation was going to be.

What YN, and certainly a lot of others in the bar hadn’t expected was Harry to reach behind him, to where his empty beer bottle was sat and hit the man over the head with it. The man fell to the ground, his grip on Harry letting go instantly. Harry lifted his hand, wincing when he noticed that a shard of glass from the broken bottle had lodged itself in his skin.

He just sighed, rubbing his forehead with his uninjured hand, “Get him out of here.”

Three of the men who were watching closely immediately listened to him, walking over, and picking the man up. They carried him out of the bar and were back to their drinks in what seemed like minutes. It was as though nobody truly seemed to care as to what had just happened and were more excited to get back to their drinks truly as though nothing had happened.

YN watched as Harry threw back the glass of whisky that had sat on the bar waiting for him (courtesy of Mick). That seemed like something that YN would have to take note of. With that, he dropped a few bills on the counter and stormed out of the bar. YN watched this and immediately started to pull her apron off her body.

“Mick,” The older man hummed from the other side of the bar, “I’m going outside for a break. I’ll only be a minute.”

The older man just threw YN a look, obviously having spotted who had left the bar just before she wanted to, “Be careful.”

YN just laughed, throwing the latch open, “I’m always careful.”

The second she stepped outside; she was shocked to see that Harry’s bike was still there, but he wasn’t sitting on it. There was a slight chill in the night air, and YN looked from left to right to try and spot him, but he was still nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until YN made her way towards the alley that followed the side of the bar that she finally realised where he had gone.

It was dark, but not dark enough to miss the figure leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging from his lips. YN wrapped her arms around herself, wanting to conceal at least some of the warmth from inside. As her shoes crunched on the path, Harry’s eyes turned to look at her. He was ready for it to be someone else, and it was almost as though when he noticed that it was her – his features seemed to relax.

“How’s your hand?” She asked, coming to a stop right in front of him.

He raised his palm towards her, “It’s been better.”

YN winced to herself slightly as she looked at his hand, seeing the shard of glass still sticking out of the skin. Whilst she didn’t have a first aid kit on her body at this exact moment, it was good that she knew where one was.

“Come with me,” She nodded, walking further down the alley to the bar’s back entrance.

YN didn’t even turn to make sure that he was following her, she just knew that he would be. She held the door open for him, and the one that opened to the office of the bar (where Mick spent most of his time during the day, sorting the books out) and pointed at the chair by the desk.

Whilst Harry sat down without a word to her, YN reached up to the shelf above them and brought the first aid kit down. Harry’s eyes watched her as she pulled tweezer, gauze, and some antiseptic to clean and dress his wound. It was all very silent, and still but caring.

“Can I?” She asked, checking sure it was okay to touch his hand.

Harry nodded, placing his hand in hers. To YN, she wasn’t sure if she was truly touch-starved that feeling of his hand in hers felt truly intimate. She got to work straight away, pulling the glass out with the tweezers ever so carefully before wiping the surface of the cut. Even though YN knew that it would have stung, Harry’s face didn’t show anything, only one raised an eyebrow slightly.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” She mumbles, face still full of concentration on making sure the wound is fully clean before she wraps it.

Harry just nodded, “You see wounds like these before?”

YN nodded, “I’ve worked in bars before – of course, I’ve seen wounds like these before.”

Harry just nods, allowing YN to move his hand at her ease to ensure that it is wrapped tightly and securely. He opened his mouth once she had finished, as though he was going to ask her something, but he closed it straight away. She wanted nothing more than to tell him that he could ask her anything that he wanted to, but she didn’t want to scare him away.

“You’re all set,” She offered him a small smile.

“Thank you,” The words sort of felt foreign, but very sincere coming from his lips, “I… you didn’t have to.”

YN just shrugged, “Wasn’t going to let you bleed out – would’ve been bad for business.”

Harry offered her a small smile at her attempt at a joke, “I’m sorry about what happened in there as well… usually we try to keep those sorts of things out of the bar.”

“Harry,” His name came out of her lips softly, hoping that would be the thing to tell him that it was okay. That she wasn’t angry at him, “I know… it doesn’t bother me – I promise.”

He just nods, “I knew that, you know.”

YN furrows her eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“That first day,” He reached out to her, and did the last thing that she would ever expect – grabbed her hand, “The way you dealt with some of the lads… I knew you were different.”

“It was you…” The words slipped out of YN’s mouth before she could truly register them, “You saw me that day.”

It all made sense. YN had noticed Harry that very first day that she’d appeared at Clover, and whilst originally Mick had said no, he had changed his mind and said yes. To YN, it had looked and seemed that Mick was the one who had made that decision, and yet it made sense that it was Harry to be the one who changed Mick’s mind. Harry, if he had been sitting at his barstool would have been a metre or so away from that conversation – and he would have heard every word that had been said.

“I did,” Harry nods, claiming every thought that YN had to be true, “I saw you, the way you spoke to them, the way you stood your ground and god, YN, I was hooked.”

That was the first time that YN had heard Harry speak her name, and she was addicted. She wanted to hear it over, and over and over again. He noticed the slight shift in her and used his legs to roll the chair he was sitting on closer to where she was resting against the desk. Then he slipped his uninjured arm around her body and pulled her down to him. She straddled his knees, relishing the feeling of his body beneath hers.

“I…” Her words came out as a whisper, “I felt the same.”

Relief. That was the look on his face – it was a true relief.

“You did?”

“God, Harry,” YN giggles, shaking her head, “I tried not to, but I would be lying if I said that most of my thoughts haven’t been filled with you. Wanting to know more.”

“You can know anything,” His thumb slipped underneath the thin material of her shirt, a heat spreading across her entire body from that one single touch, “Ask me anything, everything – I’ll answer. Whatever you want to know?”

YN pondered that for a second. She could have asked him anything, and yet there was one thought which was present in her mind more than any of the others. An hour ago, this question would have been risky – she just wouldn’t have asked it. Yet, in the safety of this room – away from peering eyes, or anyone who could make assumptions as to what it meant – she wanted nothing more than to ask it.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

Harry exhaled a breath, lifting his hand to rest against her cheek, “More than anything.”

YN nodded.

“Harry…” He hummed at the call of her name, “Kiss me.”

His thumb danced from her cheek, down to her lip. He ran it across the skin of her bottom lip, pushing down slightly so that her lips parted for him. The only sound in the room was YN’s heavy breathing, a response to the teasing that was on display right in front of her.

Then his face inched forward, and his lips were on hers. It didn’t take long for his tongue to slip past her parted lips, dancing with her own. This closeness to someone, the vulnerability – YN had missed it. She pushed her body forward towards Harry’s, slipping her hands in the curls at the nape of his neck. His hands, never mind the bandaged one which would have still caused him pain, rested upon her denim-clad arse. They found their home resting there, and YN wasn’t about to move them.

Harry pulled away from her lips, obviously needing oxygen as much as she did. But he wasted no time in dropping his attack down her neck, his teeth nipping the skin there. YN’s hands still rested in the curls at the nape of his neck, and heavy breaths parted from her lips.

“Harry,” She gasped as he started to suck at the sweet spot where her neck met her collarbone, “I need to get back to work.”

“No, you don’t,” He mumbled, and YN just rolled her eyes.

“I’ve deserted Mick,” She continues, “He might need help.”

“Mick’ll be fine,” He pulled his head up, resting on her chest as he peered up at her, “And anyway, I’m your boss.”

YN shook her head, “I need to go.”

Harry groaned but finally nodded, “Ride home with me?”

“Of course,” YN pecked Harry’s lips one last time pushed herself up from him and walked out of the room.

Harry’s eyes never left her the entire time.  

“Harry, no, I’m going to tip over.”

When Harry had dropped YN at home last night, he had muttered the words that he would see her tomorrow. Before she could clarify that she wasn’t working, he had sped off on his motorcycle into the dark of the night. YN should have known, though, that Harry knew she wasn’t working. It became even more clear when Ashley shouted at her from the kitchen at around midday today, telling her that her Rider was waiting for her.

Instead of the annoyance that YN felt the first time, there was a skip in her step this time. She had taken some time that morning to make herself look that little bit more presentable and waited for him. After their kiss the previous night in the office, and the slight peck that he had given her when she had climbed off his bike yesterday.

When she had bounced over to him earlier, a smile beaming on his face she didn’t have a single care as to what she would be doing that day – all she knew was that she was going to enjoy it. Even when she climbed on the back of his bike and asked where they were going – the smile never left her face. He refused to tell her, though, saying that it was a surprise.

“Harry, I don’t want to,” YN shook her head, hands grasping tightly onto the handles of the bike, “I’m going to fall off, or I’m going to crash your bike.”

What Harry had planned for the girl was to teach her how to ride. Whilst at the start YN had wanted nothing more than to learn how to ride, now that she was sitting on Harry’s bike without him there – she was terrified. Harry was standing close to her, cigarette dangling from his lips and an amused expression on his face.

“You’re not going to fall,” Harry shakes his head, “I’m right here… and I promise I won’t let you crash.”

“You can say that Harry, but you can’t promise,” YN was sitting on the bike, with her feet resting on the ground and absolutely no attempt at all to move.

He threw his cigarette on the floor, moving over so that he could wrap his arms around her waist, his hands coming to rest upon hers on the handle. He turned the engine on, and even though it was YN’s hands on the handle, Harry was controlling it. They went very slow – they had to so that Harry could walk at the side of them.

“I’m going to let go,” Harry spoke after a minute or so, but YN shook her head.

“I’m not ready,” YN pushed her body into his slightly, “I’m going to crash.”

“There’s nothing for you to crash into,” Harry peels one of his hands off of hers, “I trust you… you’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t as though he was lying. Harry had driven them out to a deserted road just out of town. Close enough away that they’d be home at a normal time, but far enough away that there wasn’t any traffic which would interrupt them. There wasn’t anything but stone and grass around them, and whilst if YN came to a haphazard stop, it wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing ever – there wasn’t a lot of damage that she could do to Harry’s bike.

Harry let go of her other hand, and she was doing it. Granted, she didn’t go over 2mph, but she was still riding the bike on her own. She wasn’t comfortable enough to attempt to turn yet, so she just came to a slow stop a few metres further down from where Harry was. She kicked the stand down and climbed off the bike – turning towards Harry with a smile on her face.

“I did it!” She bounced over to Harry and wrapped her arms around his neck, his coming to rest around her waist.

“Never doubted you,” He leaned down to place a kiss on her lips, pulling her body flush against his. Before anything more could happen, the sound of crunching on the road, as well as the sound of a siren interrupted them.

YN’s heart started to beat rapidly at the sight of a police car inching towards them. Whilst YN had dealt with police before working in her previous bars, she hadn’t ever been out in the open with her and only one other person when talking to them. Knowing that Harry also ran a motorcycle gang added another level of worry to it.

Harry just pulled YN with him, going to rest against his bike. He looked completely unfazed, whilst YN truly was shitting in her boots slightly. The police car stopped right in front of them, and as the door swung open to the car, Harry lit up a cigarette and brought it up to his lips – again, making it aware that he was completely unfazed by what was happening.

“Styles,” The officer sighed, slamming his car door behind him shit as he walked towards the two of them, “You’re not an easy man to find.”

“Hmm,” Harry just hums, inhaling from his cigarette, “I had no idea you were even looking for me… I wouldn’t have just stood in the middle of the road if I knew.”

The officer chuckled, placing his hands on his hips, “We had reports last night that you attacked a man.”

Harry shook his head, “Couldn’t have been me.”

“It happened at your bar,” The officer took a step forward towards Harry, “Had reports that you hit him over the head with a beer bottle.”

Harry just chuckles, “Officer Thompson, I don’t have time for this he said she said bullshit. If you’ve got something to say to me, I think you should say it.”

The officer just hummed, “Where were you last night?”

“I was at the bar,” Harry nodded, “All night.”

YN started to panic from beside him, but she tried not to make it obvious. Harry must have complete and utter trust in his riders to not say anything to the police. It made sense now to YN as to why that man hadn’t been given a jacket. He had instigated the fight, and yet he had run straight to the police with it. He was a coward and a rat.

“Can anyone corroborate this?”

“I can,” YN was surprised at how strongly her voice came out, “I was there with him all night, I work there.”

The officer hums once more, his eyes dropping down to focus on Harry once more. YN realises that it’s then that the officer has spotted his bandaged hand. YN’s mind starts to spiral slightly, hoping that one of them will be able to come up with something quickly.

“What, uh,” The officer couldn’t hide the smile on his face, obviously thinking that he had found him out, “What happened to your hand, Styles?”

Harry opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so YN interrupts. She giggles slightly, knowing exactly what type of character was going to be believable for this officer. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

“I’m so sorry, officer, that was my fault,” YN took a small step towards the officer, but not far enough that she wasn’t in arms reach of Harry, “See, I’m real clumsy. And yesterday, I dropped a whole crate of beer and Harry heard the crash, and he helped me clean up – unfortunately, he cut his hand in the process.”

The officer’s eyes moved between Harry and YN. There was no way at that point for YN to try and guess what he was thinking – or what he was going to say. Then, when the officer’s face broke out into a smile just the same as YN’s, she knew she had convinced him.

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss, and I hope you have a good rest of your day,” Then the officer turned to Harry, and the smile on his face dropped, “I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Styles.”

“And I’ll be looking forward to it Officer Thompson.”

Harry rested against his bike the entire time, whilst YN had her arms crossed against her chest. They didn’t say another word to each other until they watched the car turn around and drive away from them. It was only then that YN turned to Harry, who was running a hand over his face. Sighing, YN walked over to him, grabbing his hands (but making sure to be careful of his injured hand).

“You didn’t have to do that,” Harry shakes his head, pulling her hands up so that he can place a kiss on the back of them.

“I know,” YN nods, “But I wanted to.”

Harry rests his chin upon their connected hands, “I wanna take you somewhere.”

YN would be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought about where Harry lived once or twice because she had. He had been to her apartment a few times to pick her up, and whilst she hadn’t necessarily wanted to be that forward and ask him where he lived, there was a part of her which wondered about it.

It was a strange circumstance. Where does the leader of a gang live? Where does he rest his head at night? Where does make his coffee in the morning? Whilst YN wouldn’t necessarily admit it, she was an inquisitive person.  

When Harry’s bike came to a stop outside of a garage, one that seemingly had an apartment attached to the top of it – it all made sense. Yes, the bar had to be doing well, with how many people were in it daily. But there had to be another way that Harry was making money, and it seemed as though this was it. She wondered if this had anything to do with the shipments that the other man had been speaking about.

He kicked the standout and gave YN the space the climb off before he did. He walked over to the shutter, unlocked the padlock, and threw it open. The apartment didn’t look too big, but the shop itself was huge. She had expected a car, maybe a few bikes – but she hadn’t expected rows upon rows of bikes lining the side of the walls. In the middle, YN could see the different stations where Harry and some of the other members worked.

“Are these all yours?” YN asked, her finger reaching out to run across the glossy black exterior of one of the bikes closest to her.

“Most of them,” Harry shrugged, dropping the shutter closed behind the two of them after pushing his bike inside, “Me and a few others, we buy them and restore them, make them better to sell on.”

“God, Harry,” YN turns to him, an expression of what could only be described as amazement on her features, “This is amazing.”

He just offered her a small smile, taking small steps towards her until he was close enough to wrap his arms around her middle. YN giggled slightly, resting her head on Harry’s shoulder as he pulled her closer to him.

“Pick one.”

The features on YN’s lips dropped again, “What?”

“Pick one,” Harry repeated, “A bike.”

“Yeah, I gathered that, Harry, I’m just confused as to why.”

He just shrugged, leaning back against the workbench near the two of them. YN turned around so that she was facing him, and Harry at once pressed his hands against her waist. It was funny to YN, to see the big, scary, gang member was so soft around her, and they hadn’t necessarily known each other very long.

“You said it yourself,” He shrugged, his hands pulling her between her body between his open legs, “If you’re gonna be a rider, you’ve got to ride. Seems like you need a bike to do that.”

“Yeah, but I’ll buy one,” YN spoke, as though it was the most obvious thing in the word, “When I have the cash for it.”

Harry shook his head, “No need, rather have you on one of these. Tested them myself, they’re all safe.”

YN just shook her head, propelling her body even further forward so that she could wrap her arms around Harry’s neck and press her lips against his. It was a clumsy kiss, with both of their teeth clashing and smiles upon their features but they did not care.

“Thank you,” She mumbled against his lips, pressing a flurry of chaste kisses to them afterwards.

Harry shook his head, “No need – pick one, baby.”

YN pushed her body up and started to walk up and down the rows of bikes until she spotted it. It was about halfway down the row, a bike with dark green glossy accents, looking nothing but sleek with the dark metal of the engine. It was the one that she wanted, and the second she was standing in front of it she knew it was hers. With that beaming smile across her features, YN turned and launched herself at Harry, wrapping her legs around his waist and his arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on the plump skin of her arse over her dark denim jeans. Even though YN suspected that she had caught him off guard, he didn’t show it on his face.

“How can I ever thank you?” She asked between a litter of kisses to his lips, a boyish smile crossing his features afterwards that YN wants nothing more than to bottle up and remember forever.

“That smile of yours is enough,” Harry nods at her, pressing another full kiss to her lips.

YN tilts her head to the side, turning to look at Harry with a slight smirk crossing her features. His eyebrows furrowed as though he already suspected she was coming up with something in her head.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Maybe…” YN starts, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip, hesitating, “Maybe there’s another way I can thank you.”

Harry’s eyes widened, as though he was finally catching on to the thoughts swimming around in YN’s head.

“We don’t have to,” Harry shakes his head quickly. “I promise I’m not expecting anything from you.”

YN just shakes her head, leaning forward to place another kiss on his lips. Her hands tugged at the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I know you’re not,” YN offers him a smile, “I want to. I promise.”

Harry shook his head, a groan emitting from his lips as he tugged her even closer to him if that was possible. YN giggles at his obvious joy at her statement.

“God,” He rests his forehead against hers, “I know it’s wrong, but I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

Harry turns, as though he’s going to walk out of the garage, but YN stops him. He furrows his eyebrows at her, and she just giggles once more.

“Want it here.”

“What?”

“Want it here, want you on the bench,” Harry groans once more, moving to drop her down upon the workbench that he had been rested upon earlier.

“Are you sure I haven’t dreamt you up?”

“Nope,” YN shakes her head, “I’m real.”

YN threads her fingers back through the curls at the nape of his neck, bringing his face back to hers. It doesn’t take long for their lips to connect once more. It wasn’t sweet or light. It was rough, as though both of them were finally able to do what they had both been thinking about.

Harry’s hands start to move down her body, resting on the hem of her jeans. She can feel his thumbs pressing down into the skin of her waist, and when it registers in her brain what he was trying to do YN pulls away, shaking her head.

“Not yet,” She lightly pushes his body to the side so that she can jump off the bench, “I haven’t thanked you yet.”

“You don’t have to,” YN’s hands rest on the lapels of his jacket, waiting for his nod before she pushes it off his shoulders.

“I want to.”

It takes just one swipe for Harry to pull his shirt over his head whilst YN’s hands come to rest upon his belt buckle. YN’s eyes widen at the sight of his exposed chest, as well as the tattoos that litter his sin. YN knew that Harry had tattoos; she had seen the ones on his arms multiple times, but it felt different to see the ones on his chest.

Her fingers work quickly to pull Harry’s belt buckle open, working on the button and zip of his jeans next. YN drops down to her knees, pushing Harry back slightly so that he’s resting against the workbench. Harry peers down at her, his chest heaving up and down in anticipation. Her hand rests upon the grey material of his boxers, palming his already semi-hard cock through the light material.

“You like teasing?”

YN shrugs lightly, “I have no clue what you mean.”

Harry laughs, watching her intently as her fingers loop into the band of his boxers, pulling them down to expose him to her. YN finds herself unable to pull her eyes away from his cock. She knew it had to be big from palming him through his boxers but seeing it before she made her mouth water and pressure to build in the pit of her stomach.

She placed a light kiss on his tip, which was already red and leaking from his obvious arousal. YN smiled, giving it a lick from the base to the tip before she used her hand to give it a few tugs. YN was confident in her moves, even though she had only done it a few times before in her life. She gained more confidence from the moans leaving Harry’s lips; they were deep and quiet, but she could hear them, and they caused her to squeeze her thighs together in hopes that it would give her some relief.

“YN… please,” It almost sounded as though he was pleading with her to do something, and YN almost moaned at the sound.

YN wraps her lips around the tip of Harry’s cock, beginning to bob her head up and down. One of her hands rested upon his thigh, whilst the other wrapped around the base of his cock, helping her with what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. Her tongue lightly grazed his tip, earning a louder moan from Harry that egged her on further.

“Fuck… YN.”

Harry’s hands came to rest in her hair, helping her to move her head up and down his cock. It was a light tug that caused YN to moan around his cock, and she could feel Harry resisting from bucking his hips to meet her. Instead, she continued to bob her head, speeding up in hopes that it would help him recover from her teasing.

“YN gotta pull away,” Harry says after a minute or so, his grip on her hair tightening, “I’m gonna cum.”

YN doesn’t stop, however, instead, she keeps going until she hears him moan louder and start to cum down her throat. When she looks up at him, his head is thrown back, and his eyes are closed. She works her head up and down until he’s finished, only pulling away then. When she looks back up at him he has a look in his eyes that makes her assume that they aren’t done.

YN giggles as he puts his hands on her waist and pulls her up so she’s standing, immediately placing a kiss on her lips, seemingly not caring about the fact that his cum was on them. YN’s legs nearly gave out then and there, and she had to place her hands on his biceps to steady herself.

“Did that show my thanks?” She asked, tilting her head to the side innocently.

Harry wraps his arms around her thighs once more, picking her up effortlessly.

“Damn right, it did,” Harry starts to walk over to the door that she suspects goes into the house, “But I’m not done with you yet.”

It was quiet at Clover’s, a lull mid-afternoon on a Friday before everyone picked their spots for the night. YN had spent an hour or so cleaning and drying the glasses that had been used earlier in the day, making sure that they were to have enough for the night ahead.

The repeated motion of washing and drying gave her time to think, and more often than not, she found herself daydreaming about her morning, which she had spent in Harry’s bed, wrapped up in his arms. The two of them had been pretty inseparable before, but after he had gifted her the bike, it had seemingly gotten even worse, if that was possible. It had been weeks since that day, and YN could probably count on one hand the nights she had spent alone since then. Harry waited every night for her after work, and even when he couldn’t she would return to his house and wait for him there.

They hadn’t spoken about what they were necessarily, but that didn’t matter to YN. She didn’t need a label to know how she felt about Harry, and she assumed Harry felt about her also. For the first time in a long time YN was happy, and even though she was only a bartender and that useless history degree of hers wasn’t doing much – she wasn’t yearning for something else, for something better. YN truly felt as though it couldn’t get any better than it currently was.

The door to the bar pushed open, and whilst YN thought it was probably a rider coming in for a drink, she was shocked to see that it was Mick, obviously dropping in to start his shift. Thankfully, since YN had taken the day shift she didn’t have to stay until close tonight, meaning that she could spend more time in bed with Harry to end her week.

“Hey, YN,” She offered Mick a smile, “Just lemme drop my shit in the back and then you can go on break.”

“Thanks, Mick.”

Once he was back out, and she had passed over what she was doing to him, she made her way outside with the sandwich that Harry had made for her earlier. She was going to make her lunch, but Harry insisted that he make it for her. YN smiled at the memory of her sitting upon his kitchen counter, clad only in one of his t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts. They had laughed and joked and, at one point, had a break to dance around the kitchen to the song that was playing over the radio.

YN hadn’t had many relationships before, two at most she could think of, but they were never like this. They always felt transactional to YN. But with Harry, it truly felt as though they were two halves. There was a level of domesticity that YN loved more than anything with him, and every little task that they did together meant so much.

Once YN had eaten her sandwich, her thoughts filled with Harry and their morning. YN pulled her legs underneath her and began to read her book, knowing that she could get a chapter or so read before her break was over. It was a book about the Tudors she was reading, something that had been a passion of hers during her degree. It had been a while since she had read anything, but she supposed that the want came from her peace and happiness being restored.

She had just finished a chapter on Henry VIII’s Economic policy when she heard noise from the front of the bar. It was loud, and the voices that were speaking were quick, but it was muffled, so she couldn’t quite decipher what was being said. Putting her bookmark into place and closing the book, she pushed up from the chair and made her way towards the bar.

Mick was standing there, with three or four others in front of him. They looked panicked, and their words reflected that.

“Tell me again,” Mick placed his hands down on the counter, “I can’t tell a word you’re saying when you’re talking that quickly.”

“An accident, Mick,” It was Taylor who spoke, “There was an accident. We were riding along, and this truck came outta nowhere, sent him flying.”

YN moved towards them, her heart immediately starting to thump within her chest.

“Who?” Her words came out quickly, all of the men’s heads turning towards her, “Who went flying?”

“YN… I…” Taylor took a step towards her, his entire face dropping.

That was when she knew.

Her palms started to sweat, and her body felt heavy. There was a dizziness inside her head, and for one second she thought that she was going to fall to ground.

It was Harry.

“Where is he?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, the tears finally starting to collect within her waterline.

“YN…” Mick started.

“No, Mick,” She shook her head, “Where is he? Tell me where he is!”

Taylor took another step closer towards her, “I don’t know. The woman in the store across the street from where it happened phoned an ambulance, I left before they came. If I hazard a guess, they’ll be on their way to the hospital by now.”

YN nodded and before she knew it she was stalking her way outside and towards her bike. Ignoring the tears that were clouding her vision she climbed upon. Just as she was about to start it, a hand touched her elbow. It was Mick. She almost broke down crying there and then.

“Don’t,” Mick shook his head, “You can’t drive like that, darlin’. Let Taylor take you. Please.”

“He has to be okay,” YN shook her head, the sobs starting to wrack through her body.

Mick nodded, helping her off the bike, “He will be. But, if you wanna get there safely, in one piece let the boys take you.”

YN nods, walking over to Taylor’s bike and hopping on behind him. Mick gave her hand one last squeeze.

“Send him my love, okay?” Mick spoke and YN nodded, not trusting herself to be able to reply in that moment.

Taylor started the engine, and before she knew anything, they were hurtling down the street. This time, though, she wasn’t thinking about the wind in her hair.

[hhmnya]

ㅤ 𓈒 𓈒　 WITH EASE, in which hyung line helps you with your kid.

( 형 ) fem ! r ㅤ ◦ ㅤ 1632wc fluff ㅤ──ㅤ w jake's reader has twins, sunghoon is a single dad, set kid names in jay and hoon's.

from anna. for fave @junislqve my biggest fan 💌 she gave me a lot of ideas for this ty

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ REBLOGS ´ ᯅ ` FEEDBACK.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ LEE HEESEUNG.

you walk into your apartment, dropping your keys onto the counter as you slip off your coat. your tired expression is replaced with a bright smile when you see heeseung watching tv on your couch. you sit down next to him, gaining just enough energy to ask if your son is asleep.

“yeah, he actually went to bed pretty early today,” he stands, “do you want something to eat? i saved some food for you, i just need to heat it up.”

you nod, watching him walk away before closing your eyes. the exhaustion of your job has finally caught up to you and you might’ve fallen asleep if not for heeseung’s updates about him and your son’s day.

lee heeseung is your own personal angel, you think. your neighbor turned babysitter turned weird situationship; at least in your perspective. he takes care of you almost as much as he takes care of your three year old son. he’s at your apartment more than he is his own (that’s mainly your fault) and you’ve grown used to coming home to him almost every day.

you hear him say your name and your eyes flutter open to see the sympathetic smile he has on his face and it’s so gorgeous, he might as well break your heart now before you fall for him any deeper.

“it’s okay if you sleep for a bit, you’re tired,” he says oh-so matter-of-factly, because he knows you now, “i’ll wake you up in an hour.”

it’s more than an hour later, when you feel heeseung’s hand on your cheek, rubbing under your eye. he notices you beginning to wake up and pulls his hand away, “you should go eat now, ‘kay? the food is on the counter. i’m gonna go ahead and go home."

you sit up, frowning, “sorry, but can you stay? just until i finish eating, i’m sorry.”

he stares at you, silent for what feels like hours, and it makes you regret opening your mouth. you blame it on your drowsiness—you know that if you were in your right mind you wouldn’t have asked him even if you really did want him to stay. to your surprise, however, he grins.

“yeah, i can stay.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ PARK JONGSEONG.

you send jay a text, apologizing for the fifth time this month for backing out on your date. he’s probably becoming more annoyed with you each time you cancel, but it’s really not your fault.

for the past few days you haven’t been able to find a babysitter for your daughter. her usual one, jaehyun, was out of town, and your back up sitters all had plans or ended up canceling last minute due to personal problems.

you rise from your position on your couch, deciding you should get dinner started for the two of you. before you’re able to, however, you hear a set of soft knocks on your door. you go to open it without bothering to look out the peephole, figuring it was one of your neighbors coming to ask for something.

“hello—oh. jay?” your eyes widen when you process the fact that it’s your boyfriend at the door. he was probably the last person you expected.

“hey,” he gives you that smile that never ceases to make your heart almost stop.

“why’re you here? wait, nevermind. i’m really sorry about canceling last minute, the babysitter couldn’t come,” while you’re talking, you gesture for jay to come inside, shutting the door once he slips off his shoes.

“i’m not mad, these things happen,” he places a kiss on your forehead, lifting up a bag of groceries, “i figured we could still have dinner together, just with an extra person.”

“jay, you didn’t have to. i feel bad.”

and he really didn’t, but he did.

“i was going to buy dinner anyway. a home cooked meal is better, no?” he walks further into your apartment, setting down the bag on the small counter. “where’s gen at?”

“oh, she’s in—”

genevieve cuts you off, all but squealing as she runs out of her room with a toothy grin, “mommy, jj’s here?”

you don’t have time to scold her for running in the house because she immediately throws herself into jay’s arms, the man picking her up with ease, “woah. hey, sweet girl. what are up to, huh?”

you smile as they have a conversation, acting like best friends who haven’t seen each other in months. it melts your heart—genevieve liked jay from the day that she met him all those months ago and you know that jay loves genevieve like she’s his own. he’s definitely someone you want to keep around for as long as possible, if not for you but for your daughter as well.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ SIM JAEYUN.

your two kids run up to your best friend, fighting each other for a spot in his arms. they don’t fight for long because he easily lifts the two children up. he says hi to them and asks them about their day before stepping inside your apartment and kicking the door shut. once his conversation with the kids dies out, he looks at you with a smug smile on his face.

“they like me more than you,” he says instead of a normal greeting.

“that’s because you spoil them every time they see you.”

“they like me because i’m me,” he sticks his tongue out at you, “huh, guys, you love me, don’t you? your mommy’s just jealous.”

“you’re actually annoying,” you reach up, taking advantage of his occupied hands, flicking his forehead and quickly escaping to your kitchen before he can even think to retaliate against you.

he immediately sets the twins down, telling them to go play while he goes to help you with whatever you’re doing. he waits until he hears the faint sound of them pulling out their toys to go towards your makeshift hideout.

he creeps up behind you, being as quiet as possible. you’re popping a bag of popcorn, thankfully too focused on that than him and his whereabouts. he stifles a laugh, poking your side hard enough for you to curl in on yourself.

“oh my fu—jake, what the heck?” you scold him, hitting his shoulder.

he laughs, holding his hands up in surrender, “sorry! i had to get you back. i think you gave me a concussion.”

he assumes you notice the popping slowing down and you turn away from him, taking the bag out of the microwave. he can’t see your face but he knows you’re rolling your eyes when you speak, “please, i barely touched you.”

“that’s what you think.”

you don’t give him the pleasure of the response, ignoring him to instead pour the bag of popcorn into a bowl.

“thank you,” you say suddenly, turning around once more, “i was thinking and, you know, i don’t really say it enough.”

“you don’t–” he starts to say, but you interrupt him by grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers together.

“i do. you’ve been really helpful lately. so, thank you.”

“um”, he hesitates, “i love them and i love you. ‘course i’m gonna help.”

you smile, dropping jake’s hand and going back to preparing for your weekly movie night. he misses the warmth of your hand almost instantly, and he has to resist the urge to pull you back against him in a hug.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ PARK SUNGHOON.

he can’t help but think that this is too crazy to be a coincidence. you, the pretty mom he gained a mini-crush on at the park a couple months ago, now at his house with your son who just so happens to be his son’s new best friend. maybe whatever divine being that’s up there finally took pity on him and decided to give his bleak love life some color.

he slides over a glass of cold water to where you’re sitting and the smile of gratitude you give him could probably cause car crashes from how dazzling it is. sunghoon can see your lips moving, but can make out no sound. he’s too dazed from being in your presence to process anything other than the fact that you’re sitting in his house.

“...live with you.”

he comes back to reality, only catching the end of your sentence and blinks, “what? sorry, i spaced out."

obviously, he’s going to need more context because logically he knows you aren’t saying what he thinks you are—you’ve only known each other for a month—but he can’t think of anything else that would make sense.

“theo said he wanted to come live with you and yejun,” you say, amusement dancing across your face.

“oh,” he takes in your words, “really?”

“yeah, he was begging me earlier. so..” you pause to take a drink and he has to look away, “if you’re okay with it, can he spend the night?”

he agrees to it with a little too much enthusiasm. of course, this is mainly for yejun and theo—strengthening their friendship, helping them gain a lasting relationship or whatever—but it gives him an excuse to see you again tomorrow.

around twenty minutes later, sunghoon walks you out, his hands in his pockets. you told the boys about the sleepover, said bye to the both of them, told theo to be good and that you love him.

“i have a spare toothbrush and he can wear some of yejun’s pajamas, so don’t worry about coming back.”

“okay, perfect. um, i’ll see you tomorrow?”

“yeah, tomorrow,” he watches you walk to your car, waving as you drive off.

sunghoon knows for a fact that he’s fucked—he already wants to hear you say that all of the time; that you’ll see him tomorrow and the next day and the next. he feels like a teenager all over again, already thinking about what he’s going to wear and say tomorrow morning.

[miange1]

YAY

okay so i wanna request something where donnie is talking about his crush on reader(male) to his therapist and it's sorta like the situation where he almost jerks off in her office yk?

but he starts to spill too much saying that he's basically a really gross and stalker pervert towards you😪

maybe add something a little cute at the end after all of that :3

DONNIE DARKO

male reader, perverted tendencies, donnie starts seeing reader in hallucinations, wet dreams, stalking, taking underwear and 'using' it, reader has a crush on donnie but doesn't know what he does, a full fic instead of head cannons for once, slight homophobia even though donnies friends were talking about a gay smurf

"Donnie.." his kisses trailed along your soft skin, grabbing hold of your waist harshly to keep you still and close to him. He loved moments like these with you, moments where he could have you all to himself and use you as you pleased because you would never say no to him, right?

You loved him, and he loved you. "Hm." He hummed, glancing up at you a bit as his kisses stopped at you hip, and his hands moving towards the bottom of your pants.

"Donnie no," He was confused, why were you saying no? You never say no, what was wrong now? "What, why? You're hard for me, why are you.." you shook your head and shushed him. "It's time for school."

Of course it was a fucking dream, he could even remember himself sighing and realizing in his head before he had woke up.

He was in no mood to deal with anyone today, more than usual. The boy was so close to punching his friends in the throat if they made fun of that girl one more time. He just wanted to get on the bus and be able to see you for the few seconds he could, and then for the hours he could stare at you through eyes you couldn't see.

"Guys, just leave her alone. Bus is about to come anyway." Even as he spoke he was only thinking of you, the cigarette burning to the curb right before the bus had pulled over to the curb, and he'd let the stick fall onto the concrete.

Neither of you had classes together, you'd just see each other in the hallways and it was a miracle you had looked over and waved to him. First thing that went through his mind was that you were the most beautiful boy he had ever seen.

First thing that went through his friends minds was that you were a faggot. "He's into you man." Donnie scoffed, head shaking in disbelief, "All he did was wave at me, I mean we barely even know each other." Which was only partially true, he knew almost everything about you. Knew of your interests, knew what you liked to watch and read, knew what kinda porn you liked, knew what brand your boxers were, and could probably guess which you were wearing right now.

Even last night he had watched you be confused as to why half of your pairs were missing. Sometimes he wished you could see it, see his eyes rolling back as his own hands were working at jerking himself off— taking in your scent and feeling so high off of it.

"Donnie!" He jumped up a bit, realizing he had been in class. Jesus, when had he gotten here? "I said do you have a pencil for me to borrow?" Blinking a bit, he nodded his head. "Yeah..yeah, here man."

"What's gotten into you, snap out of it." He wished he could, if he hadn't met you everything would go somewhat smoothly and he could continue along with his day.

"Hey Donnie!" Hearing your voice, he instantly turned his body around and started walking next to you. "Hey," he felt shy, itching to hold your hand but he just shoved it in his pocket. "I'm gonna be going to the movies later, you wanna come?" God, he wanted to say yes, say yes so so badly— but he couldn't. The hope in your eyes slightly went away as he said no, "Ah, I understand." No, no you didn't understand. He didn't want you to understand it that way, he needed you to understand how badly he needed you.

"Hey, hey, look." He blocked your way, standing in front of you as the gravel crumbled underneath his feet. "Look.. I have a therapist, and that's the reason I can't make it tonight." His heart skipped a beat as you smiled slightly, this time actually getting it. "Oh, then there's no worries! I just thought you didn't want to hang out with me." Never in a million years would that be possible, not now or ever.

"Of course I wanna hang out with you." He grabbed your face, almost till it hurt. "What makes you think I don't?" You laughed, your cheek squishing together more as you did so. "Well, maybe the fact you're trying to pop my head open."

His hands let go, heading to his sides while he tried to laugh it off.

Hypnotherapy. Donnie wasn't sure how to feel about it, each and every time he'd 'wake up' hard, and his dick almost out.

"So..Donnie." Dr. Thurman walk back and forth around the room, "Have you met anyone new?"

Donnie nodded, taking a bit before answering. "I met a boy.." he muttered, already feeling a slight twitch in his pants.

"That so? ..Is he like Frank?" Donnie shook his head, no. "No..no, he's nothing like Frank, he's.." He bit his lip, slightly giggling. "He's real." Dr. Thurman took that as a note to most likely stop. Because if Donnie liked this boy, then his pants would be unbuttoned again.

"Do you have any romantic interest in him?" Donnie looked over at her, eyes practically closed but not too much. "You gonna call me a fag if I say I do?" Dr. Thurman shook her head. "No, if you have interest in him we should discuss it." She almost felt the need to say 'For his safety' but she kept it shut.

"Would you mind explaining more?" Bad idea.

"Mh.. well.." His body shifted on the couch a bit. "His body..I love it..I wanna be all over it." Taking a breath, he continued on. "And fuck him..really really hard, feel him squirm and moan out my name." His hands went to his pants, unbuttoning somewhat slower.

"He's so sweet to me..wonder if his moans are sweeter..if his hole is as tight as my fist when I—" "Donnie. I need you to..explain something else." She didn't want to hear that.

"Explain what..how I look at him while he's asleep and awake? Sniff his clothes? Fantasize about using his body how I'd like? That what you wanna hear?" Dr. Thurman clapped her hands.

"that's enough for today Donnie."

"Morning Donnie." You gave him your usual wave, smiling over at him. He reciprocated, before reminding himself of something.

"Oh— hey, wait a minute." He stopped you, grabbing your arms. "Do you wanna..go out? Somewhere? Sometime?" He went silent as you seemed dumbfounded, his heart feeling heavy and he felt sort of angry.

Why were you looking at him like that? Confused? Did you not want him like he did? "Like, today? Sure why not." Then you smiled at him, and he felt himself get less tense.

"Great."

[hencheri]

young lust

18+ mdni.

You want Mark so badly, but he thinks you’re too young for him. With a little more convincing though, he eventually gives you what you want— in a less than gentle way.

pairing: rapper!mark x fem!reader

warnings: mean mean mean mark!!, legal age gap, noncon/dubcon, degradation, reader is mean to mark as well oops, unprotected sex, choking.

a.n.: this is just self-serving atp. hope it serves y'all too <3

.

Mark thinks he’s never been eye-fucked this hard before. He’s flattered, of course, but something’s off. 

You’re hot and very tempting, too, there’s no need in denying that. The little dress you’re wearing clings to your ass and he honestly can’t stop looking at it, especially with your back turned to him, occasionally glancing over your shoulder to meet Mark’s eyes. 

Your gaze is so obviously flirtatious, you don’t even try to be subtle. The finger stuck between your teeth and the look you send him tell Mark everything he needs to know; you want him as much as he wants you. 

He imagines your smaller body pressed against the bathroom wall, his hips clashing against your ass roughly, listening to your moans muffled by the loud music playing throughout the club. He sees it, that slutty mouth chanting his name like a prayer as he gropes your breasts with his palms through your dress. 

Mark looks at you before taking a sip from his alcoholic drink, then shifts his gaze back to Jisung standing in front of him.

“You know each other?” 

He’s taken off guard by the question, taking a second to respond. 

“Uh, no,” he thinks about what to say, but he really doesn’t have a clue on how to explain this… exchange. “We… we don’t.” 

Jisung sports a perplexed yet amused expression on his face. “So where is all that tension coming from?”

Mark raises a brow, eyeing you one last time, but you’re not looking at him anymore. 

“I’m not sure,” he admits, a faint smirk drawing on his lips. “Do you know her?” Mark asks in return, a little curious. 

He won’t lie that he likes the mystery of all this, not knowing who you are adds to the desire, to the inexplicable lust that draws him to you. He wants to mess around, do what he wishes just because he can. And that includes you. He wants to do you so bad. 

“Yeah, of course, we’re in the same company,” Jisung tells him, “she’s in this new girl group, you know. Up in the charts, just right under you,” his friend grins, looking at Mark to see his reaction.

He’s surprised for a second, uttering a “really?” and Jisung nods his head as a yes. 

Mark never pays attention to the charts, even though he gets reminded of them practically everyday. He’s aware of his success—way too aware of it—but he’s not the artist obsessed with numbers. He knows he makes good music and it’s all that matters to him. 

“I don’t know how you still haven’t heard of them already,” Jisung continues, “of her, especially.” He tilts his head in your direction, now both men’s attention on you. “Everyone’s fond of her.”

“Are you?” Mark wonders, narrowing his eyes at his friend. 

“Sure,” Jisung agrees, “she’s a sweetheart. Seems down to earth, for the few times we’ve talked.” 

This intrigues Mark. Does a sweetheart usually act so slutty with strangers? Perhaps he’s not a stranger to you, you very probably know him—everybody does—but he doesn’t think he’s ever gotten a girl this bold with him. And surely not someone who’s proclaimed to be a sweetheart, in this industry where anything opposite to pureness is unacceptable. 

He can feel your gaze on him now and he doesn’t hesitate to lock eyes with you once again. You laugh at whatever the person you’re talking to said, almost having Mark envious for not being the one making you laugh right now. 

You’re good at this, he thinks. Really good. Staring straight into his eyes, making him feel like he’s the centre of your attention when in reality you’re talking with someone else. If he could, he would take you with him, bring you to his car and fuck you directly onto his shiny leather seats, door wide open. He knows you’d love it. 

“Is she your age?” he says, taking a sip of his drink, eyes still on you until he hears Jisung’s answer.

“Uh, no, not exactly,” his friend responds, “younger, in fact.” 

He immediately breaks eye-contact with you, looking back at Jisung. Mark feels his heart starting to beat a little faster, suddenly anxious. Or is it embarrassment? Concern? Whatever it is, the desire he once felt, has now shifted. 

“What? How old?”

“Well, I’m not sure, Mark. 21, maybe?” Jisung frowns, trying to recall what you’d told him, but it wasn't information he really registered back then. 

Mark gulps down. He knew something was off, why didn’t he listen to his intuition?

He’s 25 and you’re 4 years younger than him. You’re barely an adult. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now,” Jisung chuckles, noticing the deflated expression on his face. 

“Barely.” 

He empties his glass, settling it down on the counter near him after. He tells Jisung he’ll come back in 5, heading for the bathrooms. 

—-

Mark washes his hands in the sink, drying them off with a towel. He looks at himself in the mirror, leaning over the counter. The music is loud, making the ground vibrate under his feet, making it almost impossible for him to think. Maybe it’s a good thing, he can’t overthink, then. 

“You’ve abandoned me,” he hears a voice saying, lifting up his head just in time to see you entering the bathrooms. “I was wondering where you’ve been gone…” 

Your voice is as sultry as your eyes, as sensual as your body in this ridiculously tight dress. He can’t help but wander his eyes over your figure, looking at what now feels so immoral. If it wasn’t for that—morality—he wouldn’t stop himself from taking you right here and there, but something has to stop him. 

If nothing ever does, god knows all the things he would’ve done since now. 

You approach Mark with slow steps, a teasing smile on your lips, a very precise idea in mind. He wants to back away, leave, forget about everything, but he doesn’t. He’s curious, tempted. 

“Or maybe that’s where you wanted me to be?” you grin, putting your hand around his bicep, the other leaning on top of the counter. 

He stares back at you, unconvinced. “I was about to leave,” he explains, and he sees the glint in your eyes changing. You don’t like rejection. 

“Really?” you utter, the tone of your voice a pitch higher— sounding somewhat bitter. “I swore there was something between us… With the way you were looking at me,” you say, your hand lingering on his arm before removing it. “Do you often look at women like you want to fuck them and then leave them, Mark?”

This confirms that you know him. For some reason, he feels uneasy about the fact that he knows nothing about you but you know all about him. 

You get even closer, only a few centimetres before your body touches him. 

Truthfully, you were the only ever girl he was about to do this to. It didn’t feel like a big deal when he thought about it, but now that he’s been caught, he feels a little guilty. 

“I didn’t take you for a coward,” you whisper.

Mark arches his brow at that, wondering how in the hell did he get in such a situation. Getting called a coward by a brat? By a spoiled little girl who didn’t have to lift a finger for success to find her? 

“You should go back to your friends,” he carefully advises. 

But you find it funny, laughing softly. “So you are a coward, Mark Lee,” you mockingly say, tone condescending, tongue pressing behind your bottom teeth as his name leaves your mouth. “Are you afraid of something? Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Unless you’re into it?”

He keeps his hands away from you, as if the mere feeling of your skin under his fingertips would break down his barriers. He turns his head to the side, away from yours, as you roughly pull on his belt, your chest finally pressed down against his. 

“I know you want me,” you whine, “to touch me… Fuck me.” 

If he could only fall into temptation… Maybe it’d be easier to just follow his desires. Well, in the meantime it would be, but after? What if he regrets it? What if you regret it? He can’t sleep with every girl he sees. 

He never goes for anyone that is younger than him. Not that much, at least. What kind of man would he be? 

But goddamn, why are you so insistent? Why are you making it so difficult for him?

“You’re too young, okay?” 

You take a step back, letting go of him. Your eyebrows are frowned and you look at Mark like he’s the biggest idiot on earth. 

You scoff. “So that’s what you’re afraid of? My age?” 

You cross your arms over your chest, Mark turning his head toward you now that you’ve put some distance between you. 

“What did Jisung tell you?”

“That you’re 21,” he answers, wondering what you’re going to tell him. After all, what Jisung said could have been bullshit. He hopes, for a moment, that it was. 

Your lips quirk up, a chuckle leaving you. You look to the side then back to Mark. “I’m 20.”

His eyebrows knit together, annoyed that you find this funny again. What else can he expect from a 20 year old anyway? That you take this seriously? 

“You find this funny? Do you realize how much older I am?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “and that’s why it’s funny. You’re scared of what? A five year difference?”

You step forward again, but Mark backs away this time, hitting the counter behind him. 

“You’re a fucking puss,” you insult him, full of arrogance. 

But something you didn’t expect happens; Mark knocks his body into yours, making you stumble back as he follows you until your back is flushed against the bathroom stall. His hand goes fast to your neck, squeezing. 

He leans in, the expression on his face furious. He doesn’t feel guilty anymore.

“You act like a spoiled little bitch and you wonder why I don’t want you?” For the first time tonight, you’re speechless. His nose brushes over your temple, so close you feel his breath fanning across your face. “Fucking learn how to accept when people tell you no. Learn to shut your mouth from time to time because they won’t like your ass in this industry if you keep this entitled attitude up.”

You’re looking down as Mark’s eyes bore into your skull, blood creeping up to your cheeks. You gulp, not having a word to say in return. You’d rather not talk back.

He eventually lets go of you, turning around and walking out, leaving you alone and… turned on. 

—-

“Hi, Markie.”

The last person he expected to see when entering his studio is certainly you. The only person supposed to be here is Jisung, and yet, here you are, smiling, eyes glinting teasingly. 

He looks at you, then at Jisung, sitting in front of his computer. He turns around on the rolling chair, totally unfazed by the fact that he brought a stranger into Mark’s studio. 

“What is this?” 

“This?” you question, but he ignores you, walking straight to his friend.

“Uh, well, you’ve already met I believe, no?” Jisung asks, slightly confused. He says your name and it’s all it takes to irritate Mark. “She wanted to come see us work, learn a thing or two. I thought it was a great idea.”

Jisung’s innocence is a good thing sometimes, really. It’s refreshing, quite funny, too, but right now, Mark wishes he wasn’t so credulous all the damn time. 

“It didn’t come to you to, maybe, ask for my permission?” he whispers, leaning in so you don’t properly hear him. 

Jisung’s brows raise up, simply shrugging. “Not really,” he admits, “I thought it wouldn’t bother you. I told you, she’s a sweetheart, and she promised to not interrupt too much. Right?” Jisung turns to you and your smile gets bigger, bobbing your head. 

“Absolutely.”

Mark looks hard at you, not believing this one second. Has god sent you on this earth to test him? 

You stare back at him sweetly, and he swears, if it wasn’t for Jisung’s presence, Mark would have made you regret it. Bitterly. 

Surprisingly, you did keep your promise. You didn’t disturb them once, even pretending to care about what they were working on. You seemed close to Jisung, actually being kind to him, the total opposite of how you were behaving the other night. You’re good at playing pretend, Mark realizes. 

Your eyes were on him the entire time, though. You had the same look as he recalled, eye-fucking him right here in his studio. He was pissed off, to say the least, but he didn’t make a comment. That would’ve been weird to say anything in front of Jisung and the last thing he wants is him thinking there’s something happening between you two— because there’s nothing.

He just hoped the end of the day would come rapidly, and it did, to Mark’s relief. 

With Jisung and you gone, he can finally work peacefully, nobody undressing him with their eyes. 

That is until he comes back into his studio.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?” 

He’s lost all of his patience to be respectful to you now. He really doesn’t give a shit. How can someone be so stubborn?

“Told Ji’ I was going to call a taxi,” you explain, getting up from the sofa you’ve been sitting on. “I lied,” you smirk. 

Mark blinks at you, too shocked to say anything. You use the opportunity to get closer, bringing him to you, and then pushing him onto the sofa behind him. 

“Call me ‘too young’ all you want, I recognize a pervert when I see one.”

You don’t think twice before straddling his lap, sitting down on his thighs. Your hands come to rest on his shoulders, and even though Mark sends you the most murderous glare in the world, he does nothing to push you away. 

Curiosity, temptation. 

“If you didn’t know my age, you would have fucked me right against the bathroom stall if I had asked you to,” you affirm confidently, and there’s truth behind your words. Of course there is, Mark knows what he thought of you at first— what position he imagined you in, the sounds you’d make.

“Get off of me,” Mark barks back, his frowned eyebrows giving him this angry look that you like so much. 

You roll your eyes, sighing. “Here I thought I was the whiny little one, but you’re whinier than I am, Markie.”

“I’m not fucking whining, I’m giving you an order.”

“Get me off then,” you propose, grabbing both of his wrists and putting his hands on your hips. “Go on, do it. Or are you too scared to touch me?” You provoke him further, knowing you’ll eventually make him break down, sooner or later. 

“You don’t want me to, believe me.”

His threat has you shivering… and excited. 

“Why’s that?” you wonder, subtly moving your hips over his lap. “You’re sure you’re not the little bitch, hm, Markie?”

You should have expected him to snap sooner, because the moment you say this, he pins you down on the couch, you underneath him. His hold on your wrists is nothing gentle and you can’t even move them. If before you felt like the master of your own game, well now you’ve lost all sense of power, being Mark’s puppet and not the opposite. 

You’re shocked. Scared.

His hand closes immediately around your face, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “Be disrespectful to me once again and I’ll break your fucking jaw,” he spits at you. “Has anybody ever told you to respect your elders, huh? I bet fucking not,” he snorts, “I’ll teach you some manners myself.”

You don’t understand until he reaches under your skirt, pulling down on your panties. Your eyes widen, letting out whines of protest.

“Stop, stop!” you stress out, trying to grab Mark’s hands now that yours are free. 

But he merely laughs, probably the first time you’ve ever heard him. “Ah, now you want me to stop? After all the begging you did so I’d fuck you.”

Mark doesn’t stop, working on his belt, undoing his pants. 

Your heart accelerates, and despite the worried look on your face, your eyes starting to water, the turn of events please you all too much. 

You briefly fight with him, pushing on his chest like a little girl, whimpering pathetically. Mark stays unfazed, easily taking both of your wrists in one hand and pinning it down above your head. He grunts as he pushes his hard cock into you, a gasp escaping your lips as you feel your walls expanding. 

You blink multiple times, taking a deep breath, and the tears roll down the side of your face, disappearing into your hair. It burns, but you’re so wet. 

You ask yourself if Mark knows you’re faking it, but with how delighted he seems to be forcing himself on you, you doubt that he does. Whatever pleases him. 

“It hurts!” You cry out, wiggling your legs, attempting to close them—to no avail—while he pushes himself all the way inside of your pussy. 

Mark snickers. He couldn’t care less.

“Oh, it hurts?” You nod, gulping down. “Tell me why it hurts.”

He doesn’t wait to move his hips back and forth, using you for his own sick pleasure right away without any second thought. You wanted this. You asked for this. Why should he be careful of you now? You shouldn’t have been so eager. Shouldn’t have acted like such a slut. 

“It-” you begin, but a moan of pain cuts you off, Mark’s hips slapping violently against yours; it has your body moving up, your head hitting the armrest of the couch. “You’re- You’re too…”

“Am I going too rough on your virgin little cunt? Poor girl,” he coos, almost laughing in your face. “Too bad I don’t give a shit, huh?”

You sob out when he keeps on with the assault of his hips, his cock defiling your pussy like you’ve never imagined before. Mark knocks the air out of your lungs, panting heavily above you, his already short nails digging into the fat of your thigh. 

You squirm around, pulling on your wrists, none of your attempts are successful— not like you want them to be anyway, but giving Mark a little of a fight is more fun. 

“Please, Mark, I’m sorry,” you beg, lips trembling. 

His eyes, filled with lust and hate at the same time, lay on you. 

“You should’ve thought about it before pushing me over the edge, if it’s pity you wanted.”

[hyperfocusthusly]

Lifelines

——-

Part one here

——-

Tommy leads them up to the front door, shifting her up onto his shoulder, holds her in one arm, hand cradling her head while he opens the door. She snuffles reaching out in sleepy blindness. He tilts his head towards her, presses a kiss to her forehead. Her little hand grasps around until she finds the shell of his ear and settles immediately.

“She’s cute.”

“Ava, her name is Ava.”

He glances up the stairs, normally he would put her down. The one blessing in all of this is that Ava is as big a fan of sleeping as Tommy. He doesn’t want to put her down now, instead he picks the small blanket off the back of the sofa and tucks it around her. He sits down and immediately remembers he’s supposed to be making coffee. He sighs and goes to get up again, but Chimney is quicker.

“Kitchen in there?” He asks, pointing out of the door and down the hall.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to, I can-“ he is cut off by a wave of Chimney’s hand.

“Sit down man, I remember what this bit is like, I’ll make the coffee.”

——-

“My sister died. Her husband too. A car wreck.”

Chimney winces. He knew that it wasn’t going to be good.

“I’m sorry.” It doesn’t feel like anything close to enough.

Tommy scrubs his face with his free hand.

“I don’t how to do this Howie.” Tommy swallows around the lump in his throat. The admission that had been swirling in his mind for the last two months, finally said out loud.

Chimney makes a sympathetic sound.

“I was taking her to this group but- it’s stupid, everyone thinks I’m her dad, and when I tell them I’m just her Uncle they- they look at me differently. Like I’m not part of their club, like-” he hears his voice crack, he closes his eyes and forces himself to take a breath.

“I haven’t gone the last couple of weeks.”

“Something happened?”

“One of the mums, she didn’t mean to, she was just trying to make conversation.” He chews on his lip. “She asked what Ava’s parents do for work.”

Chimney blows out a breath.

“And I just couldn’t, I couldn’t speak. I felt like she’d just punched me in the face.” He laughs humourlessly. “I’d probably have felt better if she had. I haven’t gone back. I can’t even think about it because-” the edge of his vision begins to blur. “Because if I think about it then- I’ll never be her parent. W-what if I can’t do it? What if I just drag her down with me and-“ A tear slips free, he’s hyper aware of it as it tracks down his cheek.

Chimney shifts on the couch, puts his hand on Tommy’s knee.

“I know. When Kevin died, it felt like I was falling. All the time.” Chimney ducks his head. “He’d been there my whole life, and then he just wasn’t. So I get it.” He looks up, meeting Tommy’s gaze. “But if there’s one thing I’ve always known about you, it’s that you come through. It’s doesn’t matter what it is, you show up. That’s all she needs. She just needs someone who is going to show up for her, that’s enough.”

Tommy takes a shaky breath, the doubt clear on his face.

“She’s so little. I just- I don’t know how I’ll ever explain to her what happened. That I’m not who she thinks I am.”

“I mean it, you are enough. And if you need some help then that’s not you failing, Tommy. An 8 month old by yourself is no picnic, I would know.”

“I don’t-“ he swallows harshly. “I don’t want to put you in that position.”

“In what position? Helping out a friend?”

“You know what I mean.”

Chimney sighs.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. But if you think he wouldn’t be twice as mad about me knowing and not helping then-” he stops short. It hangs between them.

“What happened? You guys seemed so good and the next thing I know I’m drowning in poppy seed loaf.”

Tommy shoots him a quizzical look.

“He’s dealing with it by baking. A lot. Honestly it’s getting to be an issue.”

“He asked me to move in with him.”

Chimney does a great job of not spitting out the sip of coffee he was taking.

“He did what?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No, oh my god, that’s so Buck of him. All in, all the time.”

Tommy chuckles, but the humour quickly drains.

“It scared the shit out of me. I’ve done this before and it doesn’t matter how much I l-” he cuts himself off. “I’m not the guy people end up with.”

“So you ran?”

“Haven’t you heard Howie? Running is the only thing I’m really good at.”

“Hey, that’s not true. You’re pretty nifty with a helicopter.”

Tommy smiles, but it’s tight.

“I was going to call, I was and then-” he clenched his jaw. “It doesn’t matter now anyway.” He turns his head, resting his cheek against Ava’s.

“If your biggest problem was that you cared about him so much that it gave you the jitters, then I think it very much does matter.”

Tommy shakes his head minutely.

“What am I supposed to say? You went too fast and scared me, I need to be able to slow down and make sure we’re doing this right. Oh and by the way I have a child now.” Chimney rolls his eyes exaggeratedly.

“Well you could take the sarcasm down a notch and give him some credit.” There’s the slightest tinge of sharpness to Chimney’s voice. His phone chimes and he glances down at the screen.

“I’ve got to go, just- just call him. Tell him what you told me. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you don’t just let go of something like this.” He stands, picking up the mugs from the coffee table and taking them into the kitchen. For a moment Tommy thinks he might just leave, but he doesn’t. Instead he crouches down next to the couch, gives Tommy a soft look.

“I meant it, when I said I would help. I’ll come by next week, we can go for a walk or something - or I can take her and give you a break. Whatever you need.”

Tommy feels his heart clench inside his chest.

“Yeah, okay. That would be good.”

“Great.”

Chimney heads to the door, just before he closes it he yells back into the house.

“Call him!”

The door clicks shut and Tommy feels like his entire body turns into jelly. An indeterminate amount of time later he forces himself up off the couch, takes Ava upstairs and gently lays her down in her crib. He pulls out his phone and finds the contact.

He takes a deep breath and presses the call button.

——-

[Read on A03]

Winner of the name! that! baby! event is the lovely @rubydaiquiri 🥳🥳🥳 Ava stole my heart! Thank you to everyone who gave me suggestions and the feedback on the first part blew me away, you are all truly amazing 🫶🏻

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed);

@leashybebes @beanarie @partofthelouniverse @big-urchin-energy @loucifersbitch @fyrehose @evansbuck-ley @sad-girl-hours23 @certifiedbisexualdisaster @theweewooshow @beckym2001 @kinardevans @bidisasterevankinard

@sweaters-and-silly @apassingbird @sunnywithachanceofbi @theotherbuckley @desert--moonchild @comfortingevanbuckley @livelaughlou @typicalopposite @wikiangela @bi-bi-buckleys @littlepaws9 @ohithankyou

@agentpeggycartering @sherlockismarvelous9-1-1 @adiprose @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @honeyloulou @tommykinard @casismybestfriend @owlgirl495 @hellion-child @3min17sec @sherlocking-out-loud @o0anapher0o @sorryimlatecapt

@buffaluff @hipsterdarcy @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @that-one-dudette @aringofsalt @cliophilyra @bisexualmadney @reginamillls @zeraparker @harmonic-intervention

[liketolaugh-writes]

Dimly, it occurred to Danny that it probably would have been less painful to let his core stay out.

As soon as the star shards had pulled back together into one clean orb, Danny phased it back into his chest, sighing with relief as it seamlessly filled the open wound in his psychogenic ghost half. That relief only lasted for a split second before the pain set back in, reminding him why his core had splintered in the first place.

Danny curled down with a moan, his hands already creeping back to his chest. His core twisted and spasmed in agony, sending waves of stress and frustration through him, and instinctively he wanted to try and physically comfort it, like he would a broken wrist.

"Fuck!" Red Hood cursed, grabbing both his hands to keep him from ripping his physical wound back open. Danny didn't resist, but his hands trembled in Hood's as he tried to breathe through the pain. "I thought that thing was supposed to help you?"

Danny drew in a shaky, hitching breath and nodded without lifting his head.

"Need it," he rasped, trying to reassure Hood - a guardian spirit, he must be, it was the only thing he'd shown an interest in so far. "It's mine, need it inside me, it's- it's part of me. Holds me together." He dragged in another shuddering, difficult breath. It had never taken so much effort just to breathe. "Just- injured. Hurts."

"Alright." Nightwing was back, meeting Danny's eyes with a calm certainty that Danny wished he could achieve with civilians. "Is it because it was broken? Is that why it hurts?" Danny shook his head. "Can you tell us why it's hurting? Is there something you need?"

"I need to go back," Danny blurted out. His core spasmed, and he tried to pull his hands back and reach for his chest again. Hood didn't let him, and Danny quickly gave up, trembling. He'd felt his core throb and shudder in frustration before - when the Nasty Burger exploded, when Pariah Dark pulled Amity into the Ghost Zone - but never this bad, he had no idea it could hurt this much. "I need to get the other ghosts out, I need to protect them."

All of them went still at the ghostly resonance in his voice, and one of them, Nightwing, glanced at Hood.

"We'll do that," Nightwing said at last, meeting Danny's eyes again with confidence. "We're not going to leave them there. But we're trying to help you right now, okay? Is there something that would help your chest? Another dose of painkillers, maybe?"

"I need to protect them!" Danny insisted, his voice coming out echoey even in his human form, and then all but collapsed forward as his head spun in protest, darkness threatening to creep in at the corners of his eyes. "Just left them there to get cut open, experimented on, all of those..." He shuddered, nearly choking on his next breath.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Red Hood said, catching Danny and pushing him to lay down altogether. Danny let him, too weak and dazed to put up a proper fight. "We're going to help them, okay, kid? I promise. They're gonna be okay."

Danny nodded shakily, finding that it was easy to believe Hood. He was a guardian spirit; he'd keep his word. "Doesn't hurt as much when I can't hear them screaming," he admitted shamefully, thinking of the near-convulsions of anguish that made him scream alongside the ghost being tortured. "But please. Please. I need to help them."

"I know, kid," Hood said, unexpectedly soft. "That cop ghost said to remind you that you could come back for them when you healed. That makes sense, doesn't it? Can't help them if you're still split like a fish."

Yes. That made sense. Danny nodded jerkily, his breath easing a bit.

"So you're in pain because you need to help," Red Robin deduced, frowning at him thoughtfully. "You have a physical need to help."

Danny nodded, reached for his chest again, was stopped again, this time by Orphan, who simply grabbed his hands and held them. "It's my obsession," he explained, strained and feeling exhaustion set in anew. "It's... what holds me together as a ghost. Walker, the cop ghost, he enforces rules. Youngblood needs to play. I... I keep people from getting hurt. But..." He shuddered, a weak noise of pain escaping him. "But you protect people too, don't you? You can help."

He meant all of them, really - they were obviously heroes - but he was looking at Hood, who just nodded.

"I protect kids," he said, and then looked surprised at his own response. All of the others looked at him too, with varying degrees of worry and alarm. "What was that?"

Danny cocked his head. "You're liminal, right? You've been around ectoplasm before, or maybe had a really close call with death." Red Hood's expression shuttered. "It's okay. You've just... already decided what's most important to you. It feels good, doesn't it? It feels right." Unreadable now. "And that's... why you took me, isn't it? I get it now. You had to take a kid because you couldn't take an adult when there were kids that needed you."

"Wouldn't be right," Hood said gruffly, though the unsettled look didn't leave his face.

"'S okay," Danny said, letting his eyes fluttered shut in exhaustion. "We're all like that."

Nightwing cleared his throat, drawing Danny's attention back to him. "So you have a physical need that's not being met. Is there something that would help just a little bit? Something that doesn't mean letting you rip open all your injuries?"

"...Space?" Danny suggested tentatively, hopefully. "Can we watch a space documentary maybe? I like space too."

Nightwing grinned at him. "Easy."

Prompt: Prison Break

Walker wouldn't have expected it, but one of the worst parts of being imprisoned by the GIW was watching Phantom suffer through the descending stages of violent obsession failure.

All of them were feeling it, obviously, but for most of them it was a slow decline - the pull of longing, developing over days and weeks into a sharp ache. Ember, ignored and silenced, was lashing out, kicking the glass walls and screaming for attention, even when it hurt. Johnny and Kitty, kept out of each other's sight, pressed against the walls closest together. Walker's whole body throbbed with frustration and self-loathing, needing to return to his territory and drag everyone back with him, away from this place of torture.

But Phantom, not three years dead and with an obsession that demanded that he keep everyone completely unharmed, had declined rapidly. Sure, for the first week or so, he'd been preoccupied with troubles of his own, strapped constantly to a table with hands digging through his insides. But then they'd started to spread out their attention.

At first, Phantom didn't seem to realize what was happening. He cried out in anguish and fear, trying to break open his cell and being punished for it, collapsing under the shock collar's control. Walker could almost see when he figured it out, when he started to clutch at his chest, and scribble constellations onto the walls and floor in his dripping ectoplasm with hands that trembled, trying to ease the pain in his core.

Then he started to curl up and choke on his tears, shuddering in pain whenever screams echoed down the hall. Finally, in between his own turns on the table, he started to shove his hand into his open chest, clutching his burning core directly, moans of pain rising into yells in nearly perfect unison with whoever else was the victim this time.

(Sidney had declined in nearly perfectly unison with Phantom, which a part of Walker hoped the punk hadn't noticed.)

If Phantom wasn't a halfa, he probably would've shattered into dust by now. It probably would've been a mercy.

When the yelling started, Walker almost didn't notice. Phantom, delirious with pain, for sure didn't. But before long, most of the rest of them had stirred to alertness, dragging themselves closer to the glass to peer down the hall. A troop of GIW stormed down the hall without glancing at any of them, and an alarm started going off. Phantom whined and rolled over, his hand buried in his autopsy wound while he shivered. (The scientists had tried stitching it closed, but Phantom just clawed it blindly open.)

"What's happening?" the Lunch Lady croaked. (Youngblood and Phantom were starving, and it was doing her no favors.)

"Prison break," Walker rasped. He recognized the signs. "Someone's here." He'd never imagined that it would be a relief.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Say my Name, As if it’s Drowning in the Tide - Jayce x Reader (Chapter 1)

Summary: But Jayce is weak. So unbelievably weak. And the voice of temptation in the back of his mind insists you will never want him the same way he does you. It’s cowardly, and it’s spineless, and it goes against everything he’s ever been taught to value. Yet none of it seems to matter when he looks at you, bare in front of him, hair wet and sticking to your skin in heavy curls like a siren in the stormy sea. He’d sell his soul if it meant having you, and in more ways than one, he is.

Pairing: Jayce x Reader Modern AU, one-sided Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 6K

Warning: Explicit

Tags: Hate Sex, Emotional Roleplay, One-sided Attraction, Grinding, Dry-Humping, Premature Ejaculation, Coming Untouched, Switch!Jayce, Rough Kissing, Biting, Shower Sex, Angst, One Bed

Notes: I love my pathetic son Jayce, so I needed to make him just a bit wetter and sadder for… reasons. This is a two-parter, because it was looking too heavy as a one-shot and the second part still needs a bit more attention. I need to stop having too many multi-chapter projects at the same time before I go insane. Anyway, enjoy ❤️!!

You tap your fingers on the wooden countertop, trying to remain calm despite the growing pressure inside your skull.

“And you're sure there's not a single other room left ?” you ask with a tense smile, your teeth grinding against each other almost audibly.

The receptionist gives you yet another blank stare. She's hardly older than seventeen, probably helping out her parent's business, and clearly not paid enough to care about whether or not you stay or go.

“No, ma'am, there are no other rooms available for the duration of your stay,” she repeats robotically. It's as if you've been stuck in the same dialogue tree for half an hour with a badly programmed NPC. “We're a family-owned business, and we only have ten rooms available at once. Your reservation was for a single bedroom, not two.”

The exaggerated sound of her slowly chewing gum is driving you insane. “She's just doing her job’, you have to remind yourself. It's not her fault, you know that; plus, if there's anybody to blame, it's Jayce.

You turn towards the culprit in question, large shoulders slightly slumped and eyes escaping your glare. Pathetic.

“Seriously, Jayce?” you state in disbelief. “I asked you to do one thing for the trip.”

Jayce visibly takes offence to that, raising one stupidly large hand in objection:

“That's not fair, I was also taking care of bringing the prototype!”

“And I signed us up to the conference,” you hiss back. “I prepared our lecture. I got our bus tickets here and back. I made our itinerary for the whole three days. I even wrote down where we could go to bring back souvenirs for Sky and Viktor!”

You point an accusing finger at him, tapping it against his chest:

“The only thing I wanted you to take care of was the fucking motel. And you couldn't even do that right!”

He throws up both hands in exasperation, rolling his eyes. If there wasn't a minor in the same room, you'd have no qualms about punching him.

“Fine, alright, I messed up, what do you want me to say? ‘I'm sorry I'm such an idiot'?”

You exhale in frustration, throwing him one last resentful look before turning back to the receptionist: “Yeah, that would be a good start”, you scoff under your breath.

He makes a dramatic groan of annoyance behind you, like this entire situation isn't his fault.

The Academy barely gives you enough budget to attend two national mechanical engineering conferences a year. You had originally planned to go to this one with Viktor, specifically because of its location: nice and remote, the air fresh and relaxing, the few roads leading to the major cities surrounded by millennial trees and mountain peaks. The perfect place for a spark of romance to ignite between the two of you.

Unfortunately, Viktor had already scheduled a weekend seminar on the exact same date as the conference. Sky, your fourth and youngest lab partner, wasn't equipped enough to help you present all the complex features of the university's mechanical arm project. Only one other person could.

Jayce fucking Talis, and his magical ability to never do anything right.

“We'll just get our money back and find another place to crash,” he argues, walking up next to you to the counter, resting his weight against it; it creaks disapprovingly. “It doesn't have to be a whole thing.”

“I'm sorry sir,” the teen flatly interjects, still smacking the gum between her brace-clad teeth. Squish, squish. “But we require cancellations to be made 24 hours prior to the reservation. We cannot reimburse you as per the politics you have agreed to on our website.”

You'd probably get more interactive answers from a chatbot. Jayce kneads the lines on his forehead, his practiced megawatt smile starting to crack from fatigue. The girl stares at him with neither sympathy nor sadness; she brings her lips together to form a small pink bubble, letting it burst after a few seconds. Pop.

“Okay, you know what,” Jayce sighs in defeat, “I'll pay for our rooms somewhere else. It's on me. As an apology.”

This would be an excellent time to not subtly sneak in a remark on how he's always using his parent's money to get himself out of the messes he's created, but the teen speaks up again before you get a chance to:

“Sir,” she adds with her irritatingly nasal voice. “You should know the only other motel in the area only accepts new reservations until 9 pm.”

She nods pointedly towards an old grandfather clock on the wall, and the two of you look at it in sync: it's 9:06.

Now you're genuinely hesitating between strangling her or Jayce.

“You really know how to make a guy feel better, huh?” Jayce attempts with a weak laugh, the plastic smile crumbling a little further.

She only gives him a vacant gaze.

Your legs are aching from the long ride in the overcrowded bus, and the arduous walk to the motel with half the disassembled prototype on your back. You've been dreaming of laying down on a bed for the last three hours, and even if another inn was open nearby, you doubt you'd have the will to carry everything there.

“I don't care anymore,” you sigh, massaging the side of your temple to relieve some of the built-up tension. “I'm exhausted, and we need to rest if we want to be any good tomorrow morning. We'll just figure it out upstairs.”

Jayce makes a non-committal sound of agreement; if you had more energy, you'd angrily ask him if he has any better ideas he'd like to share. But you don't, so you just focus back on the unexcited receptionist. Ironically enough, the letters on her cropped shirt spell ‘GOOD VIBES ONLY’.

“We'll take the room,” you conclude, worn out.

The teen barely blinks as she inputs something into her old computer, the vintage monitor buzzing unpleasantly before she hands you two scratched keycards mechanically.

“Room 207. We hope you’ll enjoy your stay at Grizzly Country Motel,” she deadpans.

You mumble a thank you, but she either doesn't hear or chooses to ignore it in favour of going back to her cell phone, like your entire interaction had been nothing more than chasing away a couple of flies.

Jayce at least has the decency to grab both your luggage and his before you both head towards the stairs; if he’s got all those muscles, he might as well put them to use. You feel a pang of annoyance at how easily he carries the bags that you struggled to hold the entire day.

“Don't you think it's weird when they say ‘we’?” he mumbles pensively as you go up the stairway. “It's like everyone who works at a hotel is in a hivemind.”

You can't even find the will to look back and glare at him.

“No, Talis, I was actually thinking about how I'd fix all the problems you've created,” you reply drily.

You reach the second floor, knees buckling. Room 201, 202, 203…

“You'll just take half the bed and I'll take the other half,” Jayce pipes up from behind you, grunting as he pulls the last bag up. “We'll put a pillow in the middle. It'll be like nothing even happened.”

Oh, to be in the mind of Jayce Talis, where the universe is so fucking simple and accountability is a myth.

You hate how he always has an answer for everything, like it’s all so easy for him. You've fought hard to reach this point — to earn your place in the Academy, to be seen as a true scientist, breaking through barriers in a field where women remain the minority. It’s taken blood, sweat, and tears, years of effort that people like Viktor and Sky understand and respect.

Room 204, 205, 206…

But for Jayce Talis, it’s all sunshine, rainbows, and candy-colored skies. His family owns one of the largest metallurgy companies in the country, and has stocks invested in some of the biggest steel producers on the globe. He’s never had to work a single day in his life to put himself through school, never had to sacrifice anything for his dreams. You don’t think there’s a single thing he’s ever actually had to put effort in: he barely studies and still aces all his classes, hardly puts any care into his appearance, yet always looks like he’s out of the cover of the Times’ 50 Most Desirable Men. It’s infuriating to an unspeakable degree.

Room 207.

You tap one of the keycards on the handle, letting out a small sigh of relief when the mechanism beeps joyfully. Today hasn't been ideal, but at least, you're only a few feet away from a soft, comfortable bed.

You open the door, walking in with little decorum. It's small and bare, as you expected: a single window dulled by years of exposure, a box TV taken straight from the nineties, a dingy light fixture barely illuminating a greyed-out wallpaper of a forest scene, and…

“Talis,” you pause. He almost bumps into your back, fumbling with the bags in his arms.

“What?” he asks in confusion, peering over your shoulder. “Oh,” he simply says when he sees the issue.

“Talis,” you repeat slowly, trying to maintain your tone even, despite how badly you want to scream. “This is a single bed.”

Indeed, not only is there only one bed, it's evidently sized for a single person. It's ridiculously tiny. It doesn't take a genius to see that with someone of Jayce's stature, you'd have to practically sleep on top of him if you wanted to share the bed.

“Wait, I swear I asked for doubles for both of us-” he protests immediately.

“It's fine,” you cut him off, despite it being the exact opposite. The headache is getting worse, and you don't feel like arguing with him any more than you already have. “I'll take the bed tonight, and you take the floor, and we alternate tomorrow.”

Jayce puts all the bags down on the carpeted floor, visibly dejected.

“Again, I'm really sorry about this,” he mumbles, and even though you can tell it's genuine, it doesn't make you feel any better. Every ambigious prejudice you might have had against him has just confirmed itself: he’s a spoiled mama’s boy, who isn’t able to navigate the real world alone, and who’ll simply cry when he messes up things for everyone else.

“Whatever,” you grumble, sitting tiredly on the edge of the puny bed that groans painfully under your weight; it doesn't even have the decency to be comfortable. “Just means I'll have to take care of everything if we ever do symposium together again.”

He looks like a scolded puppy, unmoving, eyes avoidant, his large frame blocking the doorway. Jayce is extremely talented at making people pity him, with his huge citrine eyes and perfectly rosy cheeks. It almost makes you hesitate before adding the next words, but bitterness takes the upper hand: “This is the kind of mistake Viktor never makes.”

He doesn't reply.

You can tell that hurt him just as much as you intended with the way his body slightly curves inwards, his fits visibly clenching inside his pockets. Well, good. He's old and smart enough to know actions have consequences. He's supposed to be your partner, not a child you're babysitting.

“I'm…gonna go take a shower,” he hesitantly adds after a few tense seconds. “I'm still sweaty from the bus ride. Is that… okay with you?”

You shrug with disinterest; you know you’re just being petty now, but thinking of everything that could have been, had it been Viktor on this trip and not him, is leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Fine by me. I'll take mine right after.”

He waits a moment, like he's expecting you to add something else; maybe extend the olive branch. When you don't provide, he sighs, making his way to the bathroom door and closing it behind him.

You let your body fall back on the mattress with a heavy ‘oomph’. It's not as uncomfortable as it first seemed; it's firm, but the covers are soft, and the single pillow feels nicely fluffed. A couple might actually be pretty cozy in this bed, one body on top of the other, their libs entangled lovingly. It could have been you and Viktor.

Viktor.

Viktor, and his honey-coloured eyes. Viktor, and his teasing smile that makes your heart skip a beat. Viktor, and the way his long fingers twirl in his chestnut hair when he's focused, the way he absentmindedly licks his bottom lip when he's lost in thought. Viktor, and-

“Hey, um,” Jayce's booming voice from the other room interrupts your reverie. “C'mere for a sec?”

You groan loudly, squeezing your eyes shut. Maybe if you pretend he isn't there, he'll disappear all on his own.

“No, seriously,” he insists.

No luck. You get up lethargically, cursing the man under your breath.

“Left side with the red is hot, right side with the blue is cold, Talis,” you ironize. You open the door to the bathroom to see him standing in front of the shower door, thankfully still fully clothed. “Do you need help opening the shampoo bottle, too?”

He glares back at you in annoyance:

“Fuck off. Look.”

He nods towards a paper sign you hadn't noticed tapped on the glass panel, amateurishly plastified with a clear file folder.

[PLEASE DO NOT USE THE SHOWER MORE THAN ONCE A DAY. 10 MINUTES OF HOT WATER PER ROOM]

Well, you were wrong. Jayce Talis isn't just a forgetful idiot with bad luck.

He's a fucking curse.

“The room and the bed, I could forgive,” you start, fuming. But the shower?!”

“How was I supposed to know?!” he yells back melodramatically. “You told me to find something cheap to not go over budget!”

You shove him in frustration, only getting more annoyed when it doesn't make his stupidly huge body move a single inch:

“I didn't mean you should book a fucking dumpster!”

A loud, pointed knock echoing from beyond the bathroom wall silences you both.

Delightful. The neighbours can hear everything.

You move a step away from Jayce, the width of the bathroom not allowing much in terms of distancing.

“Sorry,” you mumble under your breath. You aren’t, but it's that or getting kicked out of the only open motel in miles for a noise complaint. “Yelling isn't gonna lead us anywhere. You can take five minutes, and I'll take the other five. It's gonna be short, but that's probably the best we can do.”

He at least has the decency to look appreciative, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

“I can give you the whole ten minutes, to apologize. This is my fault,” he admits. It’s always like this with him, as if his never-ending self-pity cleanses him of any possible wrongdoing. You despise that.

“And have you stink up the whole place smelling like a football locker room? No way,” you scrunch up your nose. Just by sharing a workspace with him, you know Jayce has the hygiene skills of a teenage boy who thinks Axe body spray and cologne make sweat magically vanish; the sheer power of the unholy combination would keep you awake all night.

“Or…” Jayce trails on for a few uncharacteristically long seconds. He's usually more the type to say things before reflecting on them, but he's pinching his lips tightly, clearly hesitant about what he's going to add next. “…We could share the shower?”

You look at him with an expression frozen between incomprehension and disgust: “What?”

“I mean, it's big enough for two people to stand without touching,” he quickly justifies, raising his hands innocently. “I could take the flexible hose, and you'd just go under the showerhead. That way we'd both get ten minutes!”

He's using the overly excited voice he takes on whenever he's giving someone his sales pitch for a new, stupid idea he's had. It might work wonders on most, but you know better than to fall for it.

“So you're that desperate to see me naked?” you sneer.

“I'm trying to be helpful here!” he complains.

If you're being honest, it's not that bad of an idea. The shower is small in width, but it's quite long, making it a very viable option for two people to use at once. If you manoeuver everything right, it'll almost be like you're taking a long, nice ten-minute shower on your own.

“Fine,” you capitulate, making sure to enunciate the word painfully slowly so he knows you're not doing it out of the kindness of your heart. “But if you tell anyone this happened, especially Viktor, I'm cutting off your balls and using them to-”

“Yeah, got it, wouldn't want Viktor to think you like me,” he taunts mockingly, puckering his lips in a false kiss at the other man's name.

It's the first time you've agreed to an idea from Jayce, and you're already regretting it.

“Just shut up and get in the fucking shower,” you spit out, going back to the main room without sparing him another look. “Face the wall and call me when you're done. There’s no reason for this to be weird.”

—

He’s hard.

Very obviously and undeniably hard.

Jayce has been splashing his face with cold water for the last few minutes, to no avail. He's tried every technique he can possibly think of: running in place, breathing exercises, imagining his abuelita naked, nothing is working.

The only thing he can visualize is your body, completely bare in that shower, only a few inches away from his. The water pouring down from your hair to your shoulders, to your breasts, and then alongside the curves of your thighs, and your ass-

“Shut up,” he mumbles to himself in the empty bathroom.

It's not a secret to anyone that Jayce likes you. Neither is it a secret that you're utterly uninterested and only have eyes for Viktor, except perhaps for Viktor himself. It's kind of unfair how two-thirds of Viktor's lab partners are in love with him. He'd be lying if he said he didn't get it, and that his eyes never lingered on that little mole above Viktor's lip for longer than they should have. But damn it, he wants you. He wants you to want him. Is that such an unfair thing to ask for?

You've got so much fight, so much fire in you, and he gets dizzy off the smouldering look in your eyes whenever you disagree with him. And disagree, you do: he wants to use lithium batteries, you want to use sodium. He wants to focus on reducing energy intake for the prototype, you want to focus on adding new components to it. He offers to order pizza for the group after a long day of work, you'll hear of nothing but sushi.

It drives him insane, but less in a way that makes him despise you, and more in one that makes him angrily rub his cock raw every night at the thought of that angry pout on your lips.

“-ayce! You alive in there?” comes your voice from the other room. He groans in frustration. This is a spectacular disaster in the making, and he's sitting front and center for it.

He's made his own bed and now he has to lie in it.

“You can come in!” he yells back with a noticeable crack in his voice. Not a great start.

His heart skips a beat when he hears the door creak open and close. The rustling of clothes being taken off one by one, the sound of pants dropping on the tile floor, and the unmistakable click of a bra being unhooked.

The door to the shower slides, and he feels you enter the confined space. It's ridiculous how close you are to him; he can smell the sweat off your skin, the faded scent of your perfume. His cock gives a small twitch and he glares down at it in betrayal. ‘Not now!’

You don't say a word as you turn on the faucet, the old plumbing in the walls hissing slightly before water starts to pour down on the both of you. He's not usually one for the cold, but it's refreshing, washing away the feeling of stickiness on his skin. He hums under his breath in delight; maybe it'll actually just be an awkward but relaxing shower, in the end.

The temperature rises slowly but surely, from cool to tepid, tepid to lukewarm, and then… it stops. He waits a few more seconds, throwing a discreet glance behind him to find you haven't fully turned the faucet on the hot side.

“Could you… put it warmer?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“It's plenty warm enough as is,” you reply flatly.

Now you're lying just to go against him; it's barely any warmer than if he was bathing outside in the lake.

“Why would you even fight for the hot water if you're not gonna use it?” he mumbles.

You moan dramatically in complaint: “Fine, princess, I'll bump it up.”

He sees your hand reach for the faucet, grab it… and bring it less than a centimetre closer to the warm side.

“Seriously?” he asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, seriously, now start washing your greasy hair before there's no hot water left at all,” you scold him, like he's nothing more than a snivelling toddler, and not a man twice your size.

Alright, enough is enough.

“What are you-” you protest at his sudden movement, his bicep pressing up against your shoulder.

“I'm turning the hot water on so I don't die in here,” he snaps back, trying to get a feel for the faucet while still looking away from you for the sake of modesty.

“Absolutely not, stay on your side!” you admonish him angrily. You attempt to push him back, pointedly refusing to look in his direction as you blindly slap his arm away. “Wait, Jayce-”

It happens too fast for either of you to figure out what's happening. One minute you're back to back, a respectable distance from one another, and the next you've both slipped, his arms boxing you into the narrow side of the shower with your legs bumping together.

Your eyes are locked into his for a few long, painful seconds. Neither of you are moving. You're trapped in a precarious game of jenga, where you can't even see which parts can safely be removed without you collapsing on each other.

“Whatever you do,” you exhale slowly. “Don't look down.”

You visibly regret your words as soon as you say them; you must have forgotten it’s Jayce you’re talking to.

He immediately looks down.

You put an arm up over your chest with an indignant yelp, and he quickly defends himself:

“Why would you tell me to not look down? That's like saying ‘Don't think of an elephant’!”

You're staying silent, your lips into a tight line, but he's certain you're thinking of an elephant right now. He smiles boastfully and you shoot him a deadly glare, before looking away to the side. It's the first time he's ever seen that awkward little blush on your cheeks without the conversation being about Viktor. That's a win in his book.

“It's fine,” you repeat once more like a broken record, and it’s definitely more meant to reassure yourself than to keep up a pleasant conversation with him. “I'll just… squish back against the wall while you close your eyes, and I'll direct you back to the other side. No problem.”

You sound less convinced than he's ever heard you before. He must have succeeded in turning the faucet to the side during the whole debacle, because the water has grown noticeably warmer, clouds of steam starting to form in the air. The atmosphere inside the shower is shifting ever so slightly.

He doesn't want to move.

He doesn't want to close his eyes.

The colour of your cheeks has grown darker from the heat, your lips slightly parted around every audible respiration.

“Would you wanna stay like this… if it was with Viktor?” he asks breathlessly.

You look back at him with genuine confusion, and he's honestly just as surprised as you are.

“What?”

“I…” It's getting harder to think. All his blood is rushing south, leaving him dangerously light-headed. What is he saying? “I… asked if you'd stay like this if it wasn't me in the shower. If it was Viktor.”

Your frown deepens. Your eyebrows always do this cute little thing where one furrows just slightly more than the other, but he's never gotten to observe it from this close. He lets his thoughts travel into dangerous territory. Do you wear that same expression when you're on your knees, sucking some other guy off? Would you look like that for Viktor?

“I don't see how that's relevant,” you retort harshly, but your gaze is elusive. You can't hide from him, not when his face is merely inches away from yours.

“Humor me,” he requests again.

“Fine, yeah, I would! Are you happy now?” you snap, eyes locking back into his with fiery resentment.

You're embarrassed.

He's never seen you rattled like this before. The energy in the shower is electric, now, coursing through his veins like a drug. ‘There will never be another moment like this’, the voice in the back of his head provides, syrupy sweet. It’s without a doubt the worst idea he’s ever had in his life, but he can’t stop the words from pouring out of his mouth.

“I could show you what he's into,” he almost whispers, the deafening sound of water hitting the ceramic flooring almost too loud for him to hear himself.

He knows that you've heard him with the way your eyes widen, your breath hitching in your throat.

“I mean, guys, we talk,” he explains, the words now coming out of him like the rambles of a madman. He’s in too deep to back out: it’s sink or swim. “About the stuff we like, the stuff we dream about. I could tell you what he's told me, and you can practice. On me.”

An eternity passes before you speak again, mouth just barely agape. But you're not yelling at him. You're not slapping him in the face. In fact, you're not even frowning; the expression you’re wearing is oddly vulnerable and open, like you're seeing him in a different light than you ever have before.

“You're fucking gross, Talis,” you breathe out slowly. “You really think I'm that easy?”

This*,* whatever this is, is so fragile he’s scared of shattering it by being too loud. Like he’s talking to a wild animal.

“I don't,” he promises in a low voice. “But I think you're smart, and dedicated, and you wouldn't let an opportunity to know something so personal about Viktor pass you by.”

The steam has fully blurred the glass panels around the both of you, and it feels like you're inside one of those snow globes Jayce's mother used to bring back for him from her travels when he was a kid. It's weirdly ethereal, warm and cold, frozen out of any known space and time. He’s never heard you stay silent this long, and the anticipation makes his throat burn.

“Fine,” you finally say. “But if you tell anyone-”

“Yeah I know, you'll cut my balls off,” he lets out with a small laugh, slightly delirious. He's half convinced he's dreaming. “Are we good?”

You nod without a word, shifting your head to the side slightly to avoid his gaze. He hesitantly brings a hand to your chin, holding it like you're made of glass. You don't recoil at his touch, so he gently presses it upwards, making you look at him again.

“Viktor likes it when people kiss him softly,” he smiles shyly, his heart beating as loudly in his chest as it did for his very first kiss. It’s like he’s watching a movie, like none of it is truly real. He closes the gap between the two of you slowly, waiting for you to pull away; but you don't. Your lips meet his, and it's everything he could have ever wanted.

You taste of rainwater and cherry chapstick. You’re soft in the way described by jazzy love songs, smooth and electric, a puzzle piece that just feels so unbelievably right. He wants to wrap his arms around you, hold you so tight this never has to come to an end, leave marks on your skin no shower could ever get rid of.

But he doesn't. He can't.

This is a fantasy that’s only animated by mutual gain. It’s not the climax of a romance film where the hero finally gets to kiss the heroine under the rain.

But God, does he want to pretend it is.

You pull away first, and he doesn't miss it: the millisecond where your eyes open and you look at him like he's the one you want to be kissing. The almost imperceptible moment where you're still imagining you're kissing Viktor and not him, where your irises shine brightly with so much happiness and love.

But it's already gone, like it never even happened, and you quickly wipe your lips with the back of your hand. You’re not in a beautiful London street amid a gentle downpour with your soulmate: you’re in a cramped shower in a motel, with a guy you don’t even vaguely care for.

“You should shave your stubble. It's annoying,” you mumble.

‘Viktor doesn't have one’, the sentence heavily implies. It stings, but he's not about to back off just from that either. Not when he's been given a chance like this.

“Viktor also likes it when kissing is a bit of a fight,” he adds, sounding much too eager and desperate for his own liking. “Biting, tugging hair, that kind of stuff.”

It's not a lie, per se; he's only ever seen Viktor kiss someone once, when they were undergrads. It was an end-of-semester party, and Viktor had had way too many vodka red bulls for a man of his stature and health. Jayce had found him on a couch, limbs entangled with a stranger who seemed equally as drunk, and absolutely devouring their face off.

Viktor had asked him to never let him near caffeinated cocktails again the next morning.

You look slightly skeptical, analyzing him for any signs of deception; it looks as though you find none, because you're the one who initiates this time, and there you are, the fiery woman he's fallen head over heels for.

You're going to war on him, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, savagely shoving your tongue in his mouth, one hand entangled in the hair at the back of his head while the other ferociously holds his throat in place, nails digging into his heartbeat. He responds eagerly, letting you mistreat him, encouraging you with muffled groans.

It hurts, and he wants it to never end. He can taste blood in his mouth, the metallic tinge making him dizzy, and he's so hard he could cum if you just touched his dick with a finger. He whines pathetically when you break the kiss for air, disoriented, a strand of saliva connecting you both still.

“A-aouch,” he can only manage to say jokingly.

You lean back against the tile wall, slightly breathless; you wipe away drops of red on your lip, smudging them down towards your chin, the look of a feral animal in your pupils. He feels his already rock-hard cock twitch. Hot.

“This is about what Viktor likes, not what you like. Toughen up, Talis,” you spit back.

Before he has time to formulate a reply, you're back on him, and now he's incapable of stopping himself from humping your thigh like an animal. You don't refuse him or push him away, even mercifully angelling your hip to the side to give him easier access. There's nothing but you, all over him, inside of him, tearing him apart and putting him back together. It's absolutely pathetic, and he knows it, but he can feel his release arriving in the pit of his stomach. He's wanted this for so long, there's just no way to delay it anymore.

It only takes a few more seconds before his orgasm hits him hard, the wave of pleasure making his whole body still as a plank, while you're still sucking harshly the vein on the side of his neck. He cries out once, broken and wanton, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice.

He comes down from the high in time to see the last of his cum painting your hip white before it gets washed away with the water. You detach yourself from him unceremoniously, putting some distance between your bodies with a frown.

“Did you just…?”

There's no room for pretending here. He's just had one of the most mind-blowing orgasms of his life from nothing but a fucking kiss from you. It's like he's a teenager all over again, face redder than a tomato and eyes escaping yours guiltily.

“You came. You came by just making out with me,” you repeat, visibly caught halfway between incredulity and mockery.

“I just haven't gotten laid in a while, that's it!” he justifies vehemently. He needs to change the topic quickly, or you’ll never let him live this down. “I'm always busy at the lab doing the paperwork you always skip out on!”

That thankfully seems to take your attention away from his premature accident; he's never been so grateful for your short temper.

“Seriously? You’re going to bring that up right now?” you bark, shoving him in the chest angrily.

He can still turn this around. He might not have much control over his first release, today ridiculously so, but he's been blessed with excellent stamina and a very short recovery period. Jayce is good at selling himself with speeches, and even though you're usually immune to anything that comes out of his mouth, he's willing to cheat this once and use the one chink in your armour he knows about.

“Do you want to know what Viktor likes or not? Because I haven't told you anything about what he wants in bed,” he tempts you in a tone of indifference.

Your silence speaks volumes; he's got you again. Yes, it's incredibly manipulative, and when this is over he's going to spend hours turning over in his bed and despising himself. He’s always believed in doing things the fair way, the right way, and that one day he’d manage to lower your defences and etch a place into your heart all of his own merits.

But Jayce is weak. So unbelievably weak. And the voice of temptation in the back of his mind insists you will never want him the same way he does you. It’s cowardly, and it’s spineless, and it goes against everything he’s ever been taught to value. Yet none of it seems to matter when he looks at you, bare in front of him, hair wet and sticking to your skin in heavy curls like a siren in the stormy sea. He’d sell his soul if it meant having you, and in more ways than one, he is.

What kind of man does that make him?

That’s a thought he’ll just have to keep for later.

Taglist Darlings: @soniiyi , @mischievous-piltovan, @urfavlarry , @luv-urself-first, @girlidkthinkofsmth , @starflesh-moth

[ivy-elle]

How They Defend / Protect You

Feat. Albedo, Scaramouche

Albedo

The sunset is already about to start while you hurry through the streets of Mondstadt, trying to avoid any of the Knights of Favonius in case you get talked off by them.

You’re supposed to meet up with Albedo in front of the city to watch the sunset at the cliff – or rather, Albedo wanted to paint and had invited you to keep him company. Only, your work has held you up longer than expected and now you fear Albedo has either gone without you or, poor guy has been waiting all alone by the bridge.

“By Barbatos! Are you completely-“ You come to a shrieking halt at the same moment a middle-aged man stumbles a few steps backwards, clutching his chest in shock.

Swallowing back a curse you hastily squat down to reach for the firewood he dropped in his distress. “I’m so sorry, Simon. Are you alright?”

“Am I-?”

When you glance back up, you’re surprised by how red his face has turned. Perhaps ‘alright’ wouldn’t be a suited term indeed.

“Say, are you out of your mind! How dare you startle me that immensely?”

Slowly, you rise back up, the woods now secure in your arms.

“Have you got not manner – You should be ashamed of yourself!”

While Simon keeps insulting you, you are admittedly a bit taken aback by his sudden outburst. Of course, it’s not nice to be startled out of now where but – no need to act so harsh, right?

But when he keeps raising his voice and is now basically screaming straight into your face, you get back on track and steady yourself, because how dare he just treat you like that?

“Sir, there is no need to shout” you interfere his triage of rage, feeling your own anger rising, “I can hear you quite well. Besides, no huge enough damage has been done to justify losing one’s civil tongue.”

Simon's eyes flash in fury at your words. “Civil tongue? Have you lost the last of your senses? You should be begging for forgiveness for me not to report the incident to the Knights of Favonius.”

Before your frustration gets the chance to slip through your lips in a way less than civilised response, you feel the gentle touch hand on your shoulder.

“Excuse me. Is something the matter here?”

It’s only when you turn and see Albedo at your side, do you also notice some bystanders who have stopped at the commotion and are now exchanging curious glances.

Great. This is gonna be the talk of town tomorrow.

But despite the situation, Albedo’s presence has its usual calm effect upon you, and you feel your anger settle. A bit at least.

Even Simon seems to paddle back and settle down in his current outburst.

Albedo’s eyes find yours, searching for answers he probably already concluded himself. “Are you alright?”

You nod slowly. “I’m alright.”

His eyes sweep over you once more, before he turns to Simon. “Sir, has there any harm come to you or any of your goods?”

Simon huffs, crossing his arms defiantly. “As far as I can tell, the woods are fine.” Only then does he seem to realise you’re still holding said woods in your arms and his eyes dart to you, narrowing. 

As if sensing another upcoming dispute, Albedo subtly steps in front of you, before declaring in his own appeasing and soft-spoken manner, “While I understand your discomposure, Sir,” he states and you notice his voice also contains a certain firmness, “it is not right to treat your opponent with such approach. It will fuel only more ire, and the outcome won’t serve any of the parties.”

You keep your eyes on Simon, watching the different emotions swirl through his face. Anger, frustration, confusion, and then something akin to disappointment. He nods slowly, but also a bit taken aback by Albedo’s calm demeanour, not knowing where to disseminate his emotions now.

Simons huffs again, almost unsure how to react, so he grabs the wood out of your arms, while deliberately avoiding looking at you and grumbles. “Alright, well, uh, I might’ve just lost my nerves there.”

 “I apologise for startling you," you respond to which he nods once, still avoiding your gaze. His eyes dart to Albedo before clutching his wood and stomping off.

Albedo, who notices the bystanders starting to whisper to each other, gently takes your wrist and guides you past the gates, to the outskirts of town.

The sun is already setting as you stroll quietly along the bridge. You feel his hand on the small of your back, gently leading you forwards.

After a while Albedo breaks the silence. “I apologize if I overstepped by interfering in the dispute. But I did not appreciate the way Simon talked to you, let alone reacted to the incident.”

“I think you handled it fairly eloquent.” A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you glance at him from the side. “The People of Mondstadt are all prone to temper their anger at your demeanour. You’re quite liked among them.”

Albedo gives a soft, amused huff, meeting your eyes. “My dear, I believe you are merely biased in that matter.”

Scaramouche

“With all due respect, Ma’am, but I’ve already been assigned a different role for this mission.”

Your superior Nomura regards you with a sharp look – not even your averted eyes could alleviate the goosebumps crawling down your skin.

“We’ve established this change of plan to be the best strategy, Agent. Are you refusing your duty?”

“No, Ma’am.” You cross your arms formally behind your back, trying to keep your frustration at bay. It’s not unusual for you to be subjected to whatever hell she offers, but normally she at least knows to inform you in an appropriate timing about something as important as that.

“However, I would require time to assess the new circumstances and gather the needed information.”

Nomura tightens her lips as if she’s annoyed by your presence alone. “That won’t be necessary. We do not have the time, and I believe your skills to be sufficient to assess the situation when it arises. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Again, you keep your voice neutral and expression unbothered while you watch her return to the rest of the divisions, which are waiting by the river.

Archons, why couldn’t Nomura inform you earlier? But alas. At least she has trust in your skills.

You huff quietly to yourself as you head to your new division, however Scaramouche’s sudden presence next to you holds you back. How can this man be so fast all the time?

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Even though Scaramouche outranks your Superior – and following that logic you as well – by a long shot, you feel your posture loosen up almost immediately. A familiar calm settling down your bones.

“I am off to act as a scout at the front. To make certain, the area is clear.”

Scaramouche’s eyebrow arch at that “You’re tasked with reconnaissance?”

“Not quite,” you explain, trying to overplay your irritation, but failing miserably. “I’m to remain there until the rest of the division arrives.”

Almost instantly his expression hardens, knowing the dangers and risks of that position. “Who distributed these roles? And more importantly - why have I not been informed?”

You cross your arms in front of you, suddenly feeling like you have to defend yourself in some sort. “It was a last-minute change. I was also informed just now.”

“Are they truly that incapable of decent strategizing? How utterly predictable.”

He lets out a slow, disdainful sigh before he flicks his gaze over to you. “And just so you get this straight, you will certainly not go.”

“What?”

“Are you deaf?” He scoffs and adjusts his collar, feigning nonchalance. “I will not risk my agent for some stupid reconnaissance task. You will remain at my side at the front, as it was originally planned and where your skills are suited best.”

The tone of his voice makes clear there’s no room for discussion left and yet you take a deliberate step closer to him.

“Scara,” you say, wanting to make sure no misconception remains, “this mission needs scouts to clear the area. I can manage that by myself if needed.”

“We’ll manage without scouts.” Scaramouche lets his gaze linger a moment too long, then his eyes narrow. “Or are you questioning my leadership?”

You huff. “This is ridiculous. My role isn’t that important to risk an entire mission for.”

The hardness in his eyes melts away and then he turns to the side, as if suddenly bored of the conversation.

“It is to me.”

Scaramouche keeps his gaze focused on the forest. His voice devoid of any emotion, merely an irritated frown has settled between his browns. “And now shut it, we’re heading off. I’ll handle your superior.”

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.

lake scene • episode 6

before diving into it, bare with me! the lake scene wouldn't be the lake scene if it wasn't for edvin and omar fr: the uncut version of the convo wilmon has was 8 minutes long and all improvised when it was shot. edmar just got told to say what they thought wilmon wanted to say and boom! this lake scene happened. no one is doing it like them.

oh alice is the cherry on top - the 'oh alice we're growing up', the melody fits the setting and the warm colors just right. the perfect song for the perfect scene.

talking about song - wille's song was written right after this scene as lisa said: 'i could see simon walking back home that night, sitting down by his keyboard, birds singing outside, the sun already up and finally it dawning in him: it shouldn't be a revolution to love someone'. do what you want with this info!

without further ado, let's get into it :)

the little smirk after wille stumbles is cuuute. terms are not the best but it still takes something so simple to lighten the mood.

wille's carrying his blue blanket with him can only mean they went to his room to take it before heading here - and so in the time between scenes they talked and thought about the lake to forget everything, planned to bring a blanket to lie down on and enjoy the sunrise, just the two of them :')

you can see the weight of the situation suddenly hitting him.

it's so bittersweet - the lake has always been their happy place but the mood is much darker now, they're sharing what they think is the last big moment together at sunrise.

they try to keep the convo as light as possible but they know too well how much this hurts.

the single tear streaming down.

the different reactions are what get me the most: wille seems almost relaxed in letting the emotions take over compared to simon who's very controlling over it - he blinks and bites his lip trying to stop more tears from falling, he averts his eyes.

simon's not so accepting whilst wille looks resigned.

the scene makes the best out of the limited time bc nothing feels rushed at all: there's no music at first to create that alone time intimacy properly and it keeps getting better with the camera focusing on the way they look at each other shot after shot.

wilhelm breaking the silence with it takes a fool to remain sane is the sickest thing isweartogod.

such a monumental and fond throwback. it's the first memory they have of each other but it's also the first one we have of wilmon too. it brings everyone back to that very first time.

this shot is incredible. young royals will always hold a special place in my heart and i want to remember wilmon just like this.

you would never tell they saw and touched and explored each other's body more than once by the way they're both so shy to undress and wilhelm has to tear his eyes away from simon.

they're still my favorite losers <3

it's also the first time simon undresses himself without wille's help. i think the essence is - to be completely bare and show the most vulnerable version of themselves, to get rid of all the layers and weights they carry around, to let it all behind for this one last time together.

the sparkle in simon's eyes when he looks at wille is so sweet. it's more of a bitter taste that comes with this scene, but in a list of moments that are a perfect example of how much they simply enjoy each other's company, this is definitely one of those - simon says 'when it was us it was good' at the end and it is very true.

all i see here is the plain and simple version of them, they feel so much and everything about this scene is telling us that they just needed to found the right place and the right time to let it out - the nostalgia, the sorrow, the sadness, the silly energy too. it's all so pure.

'they undress, they walk down into the water naked, and they are rebirthed'. lisa once described this moment using these words and they're probably the most accurate. it reminds me of the thing i wrote earlier - taking the white clothes off feels like freeing themselves of every burden and then stepping into the water as a form of sanctification of it.

whether you see it in a religious or a non-religious way, it is a very beautiful image.

the eye contact game is going stronger than everrr.

they're too pretty to be real ugh.

the splash of water :')

this is extremely beautiful and the transition between the two is perfectly made.

it's such a loving gesture - we can't really tell which one of the two is done before but it's the fact simon does it twice that matters: he follows the instinct to do it once but it's still not enough so he feels the need to do it again.

this shot was one of the stills that came out for promo before the season's release and i remember being completely blown away by it.

i claimed it and said this scene would be one of the core ones of the show and well, i guess i was right!

the whole water sequence is a visual representation of simon getting further and further away from wilhelm. both times he turns around to look at him tho - it's not what he wants to do but he has to do it for their sake.

also! one pov is from into the water and the other one is from the shore. idk if it's casual or hides an actual meaning but it's fun to point out sooo

too many single tears were shed for my fragile heart to handle.

this pretty much sums up the way i felt at the end too.

pain is written all over simon's face but i was not prepared for wille's sobs and his shoulders uncontrollably shaking. stab me.

he just keeps watching simon slip through his fingers and he's left to wonder what's supposed to happen now?.

from wille's words - 'how can you just be over me? i thought it would be us' - we learn that he's convinced simon is already over them and he's alone in struggling to accept it and move on (oh if only he knew).

he breathes but this is more of a this is it sigh - now it's time for me to learn how to let him go.

[bellascarousel]

Another thing about that deleted scene and the "you could have picked me. I would have helped you" line is that Elphaba didn't pick Fiyero to begin with. FIYERO picked Fiyero.

Whatever it was that caused him to be the only one not affected by the spell, once everyone else was out cold, HE was the one who jumped up and grabbed the cub. HE was the one who immediately went "well, there's nobody to stop us, let's do this. Are you coming?" And ELPHABA was the one just along for the ride.

Had it been Galinda and not Fiyero who stayed awake, those girls would have stood there staring going "now what?" Until everyone woke up again, and they lost their chance to do anything. Without Fiyero there to be the man with the plan, they'd have been lost.

I love those girls, but the fact is that Elphaba is too impulsive, and Galinda thinks TOO far ahead. Elphaba had no idea what to do once her anger burned out and needed Fiyero to come up with an actual actionable plan. And Galinda absolutely would have worried about being caught.

Would Galinda have helped had BOTH her and Fiyero stayed awake? Impossible to know. Though, judging by her future decisions, probably not.

But, that last part is secondary to the simple fact that without Fiyero, there wouldn't have been anything to help WITH. Fiyero "life is painless for the brainless"/"if I only had a brain" Tigalaar was the brains of that operation. Elphaba didn't pick him to help her with the cub, because she never had a plan to begin with. HE was the one who was going to get the poor thing to safety, and asked HER for help.

I would have helped you.

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter Four

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour and puke mentions. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 7.6k

A/N : and here it is, the end... or is it? (yes, yes it is, no more cliffhangers, honest)

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

Master List

Chapter Four

It all happened faster than you could think. You moved with a speed you never knew that you possessed, pushing him away with a strength that, in the moment, felt superhuman.

You heard the startled oof as he hit the floor, but you were already halfway to the door before he found his voice and managed to call after you, demanding that you wait, that you stop.

You didn’t stop.

You couldn’t stop.

You felt sick and you needed to get out, your hands desperately pulled your clothes and mask back into place as you tumbled through the door. Turning, you slammed into the solid shape of Rocky and felt his hands on your arms. Concern painted his face as you looked up at him.

“You okay? What happened? Did he try somethin’?” 

You shook your head, lifting your hand to cover your mouth as the churning in your stomach got worse.

“No, I - I feel - I’m gonna be sick...” was all you managed.

Rocky released his hold on you and let you stagger away, rushing back to the safety of the locker room, knowing that Billy wouldn’t be able to get to you in there. You crashed into a bathroom stall, ignoring the pain as your knees hit the cold tiles and you started to wretch, tears spilling from your eyes as you emptied your stomach.

Awkward sobs started to slip out as you gripped the toilet bowl for dear life, knowing that your whole life was in ruins.

You weren’t sure how much time passed but, eventually, you felt a hand on your back. Turning, your bleary eyes fixed on Val, who no doubt wanted to know why you’d just run out on a customer like the room was on fire. Her fingers slipped the mask from your face and she cupped your cheek for a second before pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. 

“Please don’t tell me you’ve caught whatever Tomasina had last week,” she said before pulling back from you and offering you a bottle of water.

“I - I don’t know, maybe it was just something I ate,” you answered weakly.

Val’s gaze shifted from you to the toilet. “It doesn’t look like you ate all that much.”

You weren’t sure why, but her concern just made you feel worse. It didn’t feel like you deserved concern or compassion after what you’d done.

“I’m sorry,” you said, shame filling your voice.

“What are you sorry for?” 

“Walking out on a customer,” you answered before forcing yourself to take a small drink and instantly regretting it when your stomach started to turn again.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s been taken care of.”

You didn’t know what that meant, and you didn’t dare ask. You were just glad that she wasn’t angry with you - that had to mean that Billy hadn’t told her anything.

“Is he... still here?”

“No, he left - though he did ask me to tell you that he hopes you feel better soon.”

Silence fell as you tried to process it.

Of course he hadn’t said anything to Val - he was probably too embarrassed, too humiliated to tell anyone. No, he was probably saving his ire for the next time he saw you, tomorrow morning at Anvil.

Your head turned back to the toilet bowl at the thought, but you managed to keep yourself from throwing up again with some deep, calming breaths.

“I’m going to call you a taxi to take you home, but you’re gonna need to take a few days to get over whatever this is before you come back, okay? I can’t have anyone else catching it and needing to call out sick. I’m not running a plague ship,” Val said, offering you her hand.

At any other time you might have objected, knowing just how much you needed the money, but you stayed silent. Staying away was for the best, it’d give you some time to deal with what had happened and time to look for a new day job.

Your legs shook and protested as you got to your feet, grabbing some paper to wipe your mouth before flushing the toilet.

Getting changed back into your clothes and leaving The Red Ribbon was something of a blur; Rocky insisted on escorting you in the elevator and seeing you to the back of a waiting taxi, all the while telling you to call him if you needed anything.

It wasn’t long before you were staggering awkwardly up the steps to your apartment, feeling ready to drop at any second. It was a miracle that you managed to stay on your feet long enough to reach the mattress on the floor that served as your bed.

You dropped, silently telling yourself that you’d shower and change into your pyjamas after you’d rested your eyes for a few minutes. But once you were down, you found that you couldn’t bring yourself to move. It all just seemed pointless. 

And then the tears started.

It got so bad that you weren’t even sure why you were crying; because you were mortified by what had happened? Because you were definitely going to lose your job at Anvil? Because he was going to yell the next time he saw you? Or because you’d let yourself feel something and he’d never trust you or let you near him again?

The ache in your chest only got worse as you sobbed through awkward, gasped breaths, until you started to hyperventilate. 

At some point, late in the night, you fell asleep.

When your alarm woke you, you felt worse than ever, like your head was stuffed full of cotton wool. You were shivering and uncomfortable, your jeans biting into your waist and the underwire from your bra stabbing you. But it was nothing compared to the pain in your chest, in your heart. 

In the cold light of day, you felt worse than ever; for what you’d done and how you’d allowed yourself to feel. It had been careless, stupid, selfish. 

Your second alarm started to sound but, for the longest time, you couldn’t even force yourself to move to start your day. And, when you did finally manage to lift yourself off the bed, it was only to reach for your bag and pull out your phone. 

You hadn’t bothered to turn it back on since taking it out of your locker last night but, the moment you did, you were inundated with a barrage of missed calls and messages, all from the same contact; Mr Russo.

Answer your phone.

Please.

I just want to know what’s going on.

Please, I just want to talk.

I just want to understand.

Pick up your fucking phone.

There were voicemails too, six of them, but after hearing the first you didn’t have the courage to listen to the rest.

‘Look, can you please just answer your phone? I just want to talk... I - I want to know what the fuck is going on. Why are you doing this? Why did you do any of this? I don’t get it. Just - fuck - please just tell me what this is?’

You couldn’t tell from his tone exactly how he was feeling, but you’d never heard Billy Russo use the word please that many times before. You stopped listening just as the next voicemail started to play, only hearing the rasped word Bunny before ending the call.

All you could think about was that, in forty minutes time, you would be expected at your desk, and - you couldn’t. You couldn’t even think about what would happen if you turned up at Anvil; what Billy would say, what he’d do. There was no way you could face him, even  just to hand in your resignation.

Opening your emails, you did the only thing you could;

I quit. Effective immediately.

Addressing it to him and quickly hitting send. You turned your phone off the moment you got confirmation that the email had been sent and threw it across the room, so you couldn’t be tempted to torment yourself with the other voicemails he’d left you.

Then, you practically crawled to the bathroom, feeling sick again, but your stomach was empty and all you ended up doing was sitting on the cold wood floor until you found the strength to get up, brush your teeth and change into comfier clothes.

You knew that you should do something, that you should try to put the pieces of your life back together as quickly as possible, but all you wanted to do was wallow. The cold didn’t help, your tiny apartment feeling more like an ice box than a home. You ended up on the threadbare sofa, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the window as the morning sky grew darker and darker.

It was going to rain - not that it mattered, not that you had anywhere to be. It was all you could bring yourself to think about; the bad weather and the cold. Any time your mind started to drift towards anything else, you felt your chest start tightening and tears welling in your eyes.

You didn’t think twice when the intercom sounded; your neighbours were constantly ordering packages and food, or inviting friends around, but never seemed to be ready or willing to buzz people into the building. More often than not, delivery guys hit all sixteen buttons and hoped to get lucky.

You pushed the button, took a breath and; “hello?”

There was silence and, for a wonderful moment, you dared to hope that whoever it was had already been buzzed into the building.

But then you heard him.

“It’s me.”

Your heart threatened to stop. Of course he knew where you lived, it was on your file at Anvil - you should have thought it a small mercy that he’d left it until the morning to show up, but you were too consumed by panic to see any of it as merciful. 

“Let me in. I just want to talk,” he said, tone bordering on demanding, but it felt like he was holding back.

“I quit.” You said. It was the first and only thing to come to mind, and it seemed easier than trying to explain why you didn’t want to let him in.

“I know you did,” he answered, “but I don’t accept your resignation.”

“What?” You asked, your voice coming out so small and quiet that you didn’t even know if he’d heard you.

“Just... let me in,” then after a beat, “please.”

“No. I can’t,” you said, trying not to give away that you were close to tears. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I don’t want to see you, I -”

“Bunny...”

“Please, I’m sorry, just... just leave me alone.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth, desperate to suppress the sob that managed to claw its way from you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said decidedly. “I’ll stay out here as long as it takes.”

You released the intercom button and stepped away from the door, suddenly feeling like a prisoner in your own home. How long would he wait, you idly wondered, how long before he realised that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted?

(But, Billy Russo always got what he wanted. Didn’t he?)

The door buzzed again but, this time, you ignored it. You ignored it for five minutes until, finally, it stopped and you dared to relax for a fraction of a moment before going straight back to worrying about whether he was still out there or not.

Rain started to batter your windows and you felt a cold draught leaking in through the crack in one of the frames and - surely he wasn’t going to wait outside in the wind and rain?

You made yourself a hot drink, eyeing the clock as the minutes ticked by; fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, an hour. And the rain continued to pour and the wind kept howling. He had to have given up, gone back to his office, back to all of the problems that you couldn’t help him fix.

It was over. Done.

And, still, your heart ached with a loss that it didn’t understand. He’d never been yours, and you’d never been his.

A sharp thump on the door had you almost throwing scalding coffee over yourself, and a second had your heart missing a beat. Then came two more knocks, rattling the whole door in the frame. Slowly, cautiously, you crept towards the door and peeked through the peephole.

He was soaked to the bone, his usually perfect hair limply stuck to his forehead, causing rivulets of water to run down his face.

Billy knocked again and you almost jumped out of your skin, stepping back from the door as if you thought he was about to knock the damned thing from its hinges. 

He must have heard your gasp, because he spoke seconds later.

“I just want to talk.”

There was an edge to his tone, something you were more than familiar with. He was frustrated, annoyed. Which - of course he was. You’d lied to him, you’d let things go too far. You’d pretended to be someone he could like, someone he could maybe even grow to care about, someone unlike you, the disappointing and useless PA.

“Please, just go away,” you muttered quietly, 

When you got no response, you glanced through the peephole again, hoping to find him gone, instead he was leaning against your door, his head hanging forward.

“I’m not going away,” he finally said. “You’ll have to face me eventually.”

You knew that he was right, and the fact that he’d just spent an hour standing outside in a storm was testament to his stubbornness. 

Leaning, you pressed your forehead against the door and closed your eyes, and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “For all of it. I never meant for things to get so out of hand.”

“Please open the door,” he said and you could have sworn you heard a tremor in his voice, a shiver.

(He was soaked through, of course he was shivering.)

You knew what you had to do, after all, the whole situation was your fault. As much as you hated it and as scared as you were of him getting angry, he was owed an explanation. You took a few more deep breaths, struggling to find Bunny’s confidence inside of you as your trembling fingers reached for the deadbolt, then the chain and, finally, the lock.

You pulled the door open slowly, looking anywhere but at Billy as he stepped into your apartment.

Once he was inside, you retreated halfway across the living room, casting him an uncomfortable look that caused him to wince. His coat was dripping all over the floor, but it seemed to be the least of his concerns, his full attention fixed on you.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, trying to figure out how to even explain what had happened.

“Did you know it was me from the start?” He asked. “Was it all just some trick? Some sick joke?”

Your stomach knotted, hating that he could think you’d be that malicious even for a second. But you didn’t blame him for jumping to that conclusion, not after everything he’d told you last night about his business partner betraying his trust.

“N-no, it wasn’t anything like that. I didn’t realise who you were until I saw you at the Rockefeller Center, at the ice rink...” your eyes dropped to his feet, to the wet growing patch in the carpet. “Why did you go looking for me?”

It was his turn to hesitate and struggle for an answer.

“I wanted to find you, I wanted -”

“I told you it couldn’t last,” you interrupted, finally managing to find a shred of Bunny’s confidence. “I asked you not to ruin it.”

“You said it wouldn’t last because I’d get bored and move on. I wouldn’t have.”

That... that wasn’t what you were expecting him to say.

“If you knew who I was last night, why didn’t you say something?” He continued. “Why let it go so far? What did you have to gain from not telling me?”

“I - I don’t know!” Your voice broke and you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. “I was going to tell you but then you showed up and you were so upset and I just wanted to make you feel better -”

“Make me feel better by letting me think I was about to fuck someone else?”

There it was. Someone else. Not you. Because Billy Russo would never choose someone like you.

“Right, because that’s all it really comes down to, isn’t it? You’d be perfectly happy right now if you hadn’t found out. You’d be happy if you could imagine it was literally anyone but me, right?” You said, anger and resentment slipping into your tone. “Well you weren’t the only one who was disappointed. Have you got any idea what it felt like to find out that the guy who was so sweet and kind to me when he couldn’t see my face, was actually the asshole who goes out of his way to make me feel like shit at every opportunity?”

Billy was silent, taken aback by your outburst.

“I never...” he tried, but seemed at a loss for words.

“Every day, for months, you’ve yelled at me for fucking up - and I wouldn’t even fuck up so much in the first place if you didn’t treat me like shit, if you didn’t constantly make me feel like fucking up is all I’m capable of,” you continued, finally finding that spark of Bunny inside you and grasping it tight with both hands. “You wanted to know why I changed my limits? You. You’re why. You’ve constantly made me feel like you were going to fire me and you have no idea how much I needed the money I was making from Anvil.”

You saw him look around, finally getting a good look at your apartment, at the way you lived, and you could tell he had questions. The money you made at Anvil alone was more than enough to see you living somewhere nicer, and the money from The Red Ribbon should have had you living more than comfortably.

“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I don’t know why I didn’t stop you last night -” you shook your head, “- maybe for a minute I dared to let myself believe that you really were nice and sweet, and that you could want someone like me...”

You finally fell silent, your confidence slipping away again.

This time the silence lingered for thirty long seconds, and when you managed to bring yourself to look at him again, you found his face was an unreadable mask.

“You’re right,” he said.

Infuriatingly, he didn’t tell you which part you were right about straight away. You remained quiet, forcing him to be the one to fill the silence.

“You’re right,” he said again, a tremor in his voice as he shivered. “I haven’t treated you well, and I’m sorry. I’ve been under so much pressure the last few months that I - I don’t think I really even realised I was doing it. But that’s no excuse, I should never have taken my problems out on you.”

He let silence fill the space between you again, and when you looked at him, you could see the genuine struggle on his face.

“I never wanted to be like that with anyone,” he confessed as he continued. “That was why I kept coming back to you - why I wanted to find you - because when I was with you and I could pretend that none of my problems existed, I was happy.”

The wind outside grew stronger, howling and shaking the windows as thunder sounded in the distance.

“I know it wasn’t real,” resignation filled his tone, “but I - I wanted it to be. I wanted to be that version of me without the mask... with you...”

You sniffled awkwardly, still barely holding the tears at bay.

“But it wasn’t me that you wanted. It was Bunny,” you said, your voice becoming little more than a low mutter.

“I think that some part of you is Bunny,” said Billy, almost managing to force a smile. “Just like some part of me is the guy who was nice to you.”

Oh, how you longed to believe him.

“I think we could be those people... if we gave each other a chance...”

Your heart seemed to come to a complete stop in your chest and the room became so quiet and still that you could hear every shivering breath that he took.

“What?” You asked in barely little more than a whisper. 

“I want to know what we could be like out in the real world, with no masks to hide behind.”

It was an uncomfortable confession and, if you didn’t know him better, you might have thought that he was scared of voicing it. But, surely not. Right? Surely he didn’t mean what you thought he meant.

“I thought...” you trailed off for a few seconds in confusion. “I thought you were angry at me.”

Wasn’t that why he was there, because he thought you’d been playing some cruel joke, because he thought you’d tried to trick him?

“I was... to begin with,” he said, shrugging. “After you ran out, when you wouldn’t answer my calls, but this morning, I was at the office, waiting for you to come in... I was thinking about firing you, I had your personnel file in my hand...”

He took another awkward pause and just... stared at you, confused, like you were some complex puzzle that he couldn’t understand. 

“And, I realised that, if I fired you, I’d never see you again. That I’d lose you and Bunny forever, and I couldn’t go through with it. When I got your email and I knew I needed to see you, I knew I needed to do something. I needed to get you back.”

You shook your head at the sheer insanity of it all. Billy dared to take a step forward when he saw the gesture, an almost pleading expression on his face.

“This isn’t how I should’ve gotten to know you - I know I’m doing everything backwards here, but all I’m asking for is one chance.”

He was trying. He was trying far more than you ever expect him to. More than that, it felt like he was fighting for you and... you hadn’t had anyone fight for you in a really long time. But, still -

“It’s not me you want,” you said, deflating a little at the thought, hating that you couldn’t be what he wanted you to be. “I’m not like Bunny.”

Billy laughed.

For some reason that was so beyond your comprehension, he actually laughed.

“You realise you just called me an asshole, right? You told me exactly how you felt, and you didn’t back down. You made me stand outside in the freezing rain for over an hour - I think you’re more like Bunny than you realise,” he said, taking another step. “But you don’t have to be. I don’t want to know some pretend version of you. I want to get to know the real you. That’s why I went to the ice rink.” He hesitated, swallowing awkwardly. “And I want you to know the real me.”

“Billy,” you said, and it felt strange to call him that - Billy and not Mr Russo. “What are you even suggesting?”

“I - I don’t know. Come back to work at Anvil - or don’t. Let me take you out for dinner. Or let me see you again at the club. We can put the masks back on, you can pretend that you don’t know it’s me, that -”

“We can’t do that.”

You couldn’t, could you? You hadn’t even been able to pretend that it wasn’t him last night when you’d almost let him fuck you. But the other things?

“Why not?” He asked.

The million dollar question.

“Because you’re... you, and I’m just... me.”

Million dollar question meet bargain bin answer. You knew how stupid it sounded the moment it left your lips but, really, was it any more ridiculous than the rest of the conversation?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Billy asked, finally taking a moment to brush his wet hair back, away from his forehead.

“I’m not good at... this. I’m not good with people,” you quickly continued when you noticed he was about to interrupt. “With Bunny it’s different. I have a safety net. I have a two hundred and fifty pound security guard to keep me safe and a manager who vets every single person she lets through the door, out in the real world I’m...”

You trailed off into a telling silence, letting your gaze drop to the floor.

“Who hurt you?” He asked, barely containing the spike of anger in his voice.

The last thing you wanted to do was tell him some sob story and have him feel sorry for you but, after all the lies, it felt like you at least owed him some honesty.

“My ex - not physically, and he wasn’t really bad to me but,” you let out a heavy sigh and found his dark eyes staring intently at you, “he made me cosign on a couple of loans and then he walked out...”

“What?” He didn’t even try to hide the anger.

“That’s why I need two jobs - and I can still barely keep my head above water.” You said, forcing another shrug. “I’m a mess. My whole life is a mess, and the last guy I trusted -”

“I’d never hurt you like that.”

And, some part of you was more than willing to believe him. In the time it took you to almost formulate a response, Billy had closed the distance between you, coming to stand in front of you.

“You don’t even like me,” you said softly.

Billy reached for you slowly, giving you ample chance to pull away before gently cupping your cheek with his cold hand.

“Yesterday, you brought me coffee and you asked if things were alright,” he said simply. “I’d been an asshole to you, and you still cared enough to ask. As Bunny, you asked me if I was sleeping enough and you got me to spend my birthday with my friends, and for the first time in years, I actually enjoyed my birthday. You didn’t have to do any of that, but you did because you’re a good person.”

You stared at him, completely lost for words, trying to understand how the bar was so low for him that you doing the bare minimum had had such an impact on him. But, then, you remembered the little things he’d said, that he’d given away; people only wanting him for his money, his mother abandoning him, one of the few people he’d ever trusted betraying him.

You’d given him something so simple, something so few people had bothered to give.

“Maybe better than I deserve,” he continued, his thumb tenderly brushing your cheek, “but, if you’ll let me, I want to try to be worthy of someone like you because I do like you.”

“How?” You dared to ask, some part of you wanting to believe that what he was saying was real.

“We could go back to the start, take things slowly, get to really know each other,” he offered, fiercely clinging to the shred of hope that you’d offered him. “Anything you want. I just want a chance to see if this could be something.”

“No,” you said. “I don’t want to go back to the start.”

The corners of his lips dropped and he looked at you as if you’d just driven a knife into his chest, his face paling as he felt the pain caused by your refusal so acutely. His hand dropped from your cheek. You’d never seen him look so defeated.

It was unbearable.

You moved suddenly and without hesitation, surging forwards to tenderly press your lips to his in a kiss that was reminiscent of your first night together at The Red Ribbon. Billy tensed in confusion but quickly pressed his hand to your cheek again.

He was frowning when you pulled back, obviously not understanding what you were clumsily trying to tell him.

“Don’t want to go back to the start,” you muttered, trying to explain yourself. “I want to start here, right now.”

Your own hand moved, pressing to his chest over the damp fabric of his shirt, feeling the way his heart was pounding. For you. His heart was racing, hammering against his ribs, and it was all for you.

Billy let out a sigh, an awkward and relieved sound that sent a shiver down your spine. You lost yourself in his eyes as he stepped closer, closing the last little bit of space between you and wrapped an arm around you.

Then his lips were on yours again, his tongue running along the seam of your mouth. The kiss quickly became more passionate, more eager, until you felt the damp from his coat sleeve starting to soak through the back of your sweater.

You squirmed, smiling against his lips as you clumsily pushed his coat off his shoulders.

“You’re soaking wet,” you murmured against his lips.

“That’s my line,” he answered back, letting his coat fall to the floor.

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you, pressing your face to his chest to hide your embarrassment.

“I knew you were trouble the moment I laid eyes on you,” you said between gasps of laughter.

His arm tightened around you, like he couldn’t even fathom ever letting you go again. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you all but melted against him. But it wasn’t long before you realised you needed to do something about his wet shirt too. So, slowly, almost cautiously, you started to unbutton it.

You were almost methodical in the way that you opened his shirt and ran your fingers over the exposed expanse of his chest. Billy stood silently, watching you as mapped every inch of cold skin with your eyes and fingertips, stopping and paying particular attention to each scar you found. You had to remind yourself that he had been a Marine, and that every mark was something that he had survived.

When he shrugged off the wet shirt, your fingers traced a silvery scar on his shoulder - it looked older than the others. Much older, something from his childhood. Your eyes caught Billy’s for a moment, and he simply shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he said as if reading your mind. “I’m okay now.”

Maybe one day he’d tell you about the scar, and all the others but, at that moment, it wasn’t important. The past wasn’t important, just the here and now.

Still, you leaned closer and pressed your lips to the scar, and his arm wrapped around you again. You were content to pepper light kisses along his shoulder and up his neck until you felt him shiver against you.

“Come on,” you said softly, running your fingers down his arm and taking his hand in yours, “let’s get you warmed up.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Billy followed as you led, pulling him towards your bedroom but, about halfway, you ended up pressed against him again, kissing him, unable to stop yourself. You found your back pressed to the wall right beside the bedroom door, his hands pulling off your sweater.

“Now we’re even,” he said, smiling against your lips.

Playfully, you shook your head and quickly started to undo his belt and pants, forcing him to awkwardly kick them off, along with his shoes. Then you were moving again, pulling him into the room and towards bed.

He caught the flicker of embarrassment on your face at the mattress on the floor, at the mostly empty room, at the whole sorry state of your life, and he quickly kissed you again, silencing every terrible thought in your head.

“If you think I care about anything other than getting you naked right now, you’re sorely mistaken,” he muttered, before delivering a playful nip to your bottom lip.

“Oh, you want me naked, do you?” You answered back.

“I do.”

“And, I suppose you’re the sort of man who always has to get what he wants, aren’t you?”

“You’re learning quickly, Bunny.”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer back and continue your little game, his lips covered yours again and his fingers started to push your loose fitting sweatpants down your legs. You stepped out of them as he continued to walk you backwards, towards the mattress that served as your bed until you felt it at your heels.

The next thing you knew, you were on your back beneath Billy, his body pressing you down into the mattress, your legs tangled with his. 

Fingertips raked down his back, following the ridges of his spine as you pulled him closer, losing yourself under the weight of him and the want that had been building in you over the last week and a half, You wanted to suffocate on his lips while you were crushed beneath him, you wanted and wanted and wanted.

When he pulled from the kiss, gasping for breath, your lips chased his, not wanting even a second of reprieve from him. And, the way he looked down at you, his dark eyes turning incredibly soft, was almost enough to make your heart stop beating.

“You’re perfect,” he said softly, shaking his head, confused. “How have you been in front of me all of this time but I’ve only just noticed?”

“I seem to remember you noticing my ass pretty quickly.”

Billy laughed and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, a tender gesture that made you melt inside.

“I’ve got a confession to make,” he said. “That grey skirt you wear for work sometimes...”

“Mr Russo!” You gasped, feigning indignation. “Are you saying you’ve been checking out my ass at work?”

It shouldn’t have been the huge confidence boost that it was but, to think he’d noticed you that way before seeing you in the revealing bodysuit at The Red Ribbon did make you feel better about yourself.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I don’t appreciate the days you wear your charcoal suit...” you added after a beat.

“You mean you’ve been checking out your asshole boss?”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his lips to yours. “He might be an asshole, but he’s a handsome asshole.”

You swallowed his laughter with your lips, kissing him as you squirmed beneath him, pulling your leg from between his so his hips were nestled between your thighs. Billy took the opportunity to shift closer to you, pressing down and - fuck, you swore into the kiss at the feeling of his hard cock against you.

He took advantage of your moment of shock and started trailing kisses down your neck, grazing his teeth over your collarbone and sinking lower still. You arched your back as he reached behind you, letting him relieve you of your bra. 

The sound he made, the low rumbling in the back of his throat at the sight of your exposed breasts should have been criminal. It caused a heat to lick through your body, shooting down your spine to your core and had you clenching around nothing.

Your head fell back on the pillow as he took his time acquainting himself with your tits, his cold hands quickly warming as he alternated between groping and kissing, paying particular attention to the stiff peaks of your nipples.

“Billy, please...”

The words slipped out as a quiet plea and, the moment they left your lips, you all but forgot about them, as if you’d never even spoken them to begin with. You weren’t used to this, you weren’t used to feeling worshipped and wanted. You weren’t even sure what you were asking Billy for but the moment his lips started to trail down towards your stomach, you felt like all of your prayers were about to be answered.

You bit your lip as you looked down and caught his dark eyes staring up at you just as his tongue slipped from his lips and traced a circle around your navel. A soft gasp escaped at the warmth of his tongue against your skin, already starting to imagine what you hoped was going to come next.

His gaze held yours and you didn’t look away - you were certain you couldn’t have, even if you’d wanted to. As his fingers hook on your panties, you lifted your hips, feeling your cheeks start to warm as you were completely bared to him. Billy slipped lower down the mattress, his hands urged your thighs apart so he could drink in the sight of you.

A desperate and needy sound managed to slip past your lips as his fingertip trailed through your folds and the wetness that betrayed your arousal.

“You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve imagined this, Bunny,” he said, sounding as breathless as you felt, “you spread out beneath me, moaning for me while I devour this sweet pussy.”

Your cheeks grew hotter still, but any shy embarrassment you might have felt at his words was snuffed out by your own desperate need for him. Without realising you were even doing it, you shifted your hips, pressing against his finger, desperate for more.

“Billy, please...” you said again.

A shiver ran down your spine at the smirk that appeared on his lips at your quiet plea. For a moment he looked torn, like he was considering teasing you, making you really beg for him (and some part of you knew that you would), but it quickly became clear that he didn’t want to deny himself.

Parting your folds with his fingers, he bowed his head and -

“Fuck!” You moaned.

The heat of his tongue against your sensitive flesh was simultaneously too much and not nearly enough. His hand gripped your thigh tighter, holding you down as he continued his assault on your senses. He started with long, slow laps of his tongue, teasing from your entrance up to your clit before starting to focus his attention on the swollen bundle of nerves.

Your thighs trembled and tensed as he alternated between slow circles and rapid flicks, easily starting to push you towards orgasm.

Billy groaned against you and you felt the vibrations of it through his tongue. He muttered something - no doubt something utterly filthy - but you couldn’t hear it over the needy noises he was pulling from you, the moans and the gasped pleas, begging him not to stop.

You came quickly. Easily. You started to moan and writhe beneath him, not caring that he’d managed to push you over the edge so easily. But your orgasm wasn’t enough to stop Billy or even slow him down. His tongue sank lower, lapping at your entrance as it clenched and spasmed, lapping up your arousal until you felt like nothing more than a sloppy, desperate mess beneath him.

And, once that orgasm had started to subside, he started to push you towards another.

Two fingers easily slipped between your walls and his tongue returned to your clit, causing you to cry out his name so loudly that you were sure you felt his lips pull into a smile against you.

Reaching down, you tangled your fingers in his damp hair, half wanting to push him away so you could have a moment to regain his sanity, and half wanting to pull him closer and let him completely devour you.

His fingers set a quick rhythm, betraying his impatience. Your eyes caught his and you could see his need, his want. And you found yourself wanting exactly what he did. You wanted him to fuck you.

You kept your eyes fixed on his, biting down hard on your lip as his teeth grazed over your clit. Then he pulled the throbbing nub between his lips and you were sure that you saw stars as you started to come again.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, breathless beneath him as he started to move back up your body.

“That was everything I imagined and so much more,” Billy said, wiping his wet lips on the back of his hand before capturing your lips in a kiss.

One of you let out a groan - though, honestly, you weren’t sure which - and the kiss quickly took on a life of its own. Hungry, needy, passionate, both of you taking and giving in equal measure, building anticipation for what was about to happen.

Reaching down, you pushed his boxers from his hips, getting them as far as you could before using your feet to push them the rest of the way.

“That’s a neat trick.” He smiled against your lips.

“I’m a woman of many talents,” you retorted.

“I bet you are.”

Any thought of responding was quickly ended by the press of his bare cock between your thighs, the tip teasingly nudging its way between your folds. 

Your fingers pressed into his back and your eyes fixed on his again, wanting him to know that there was no doubt in your mind. You wanted him.

Lifting your head, you kissed him, gasping softly against his lips as you felt his cock notch into you, slowly pushing between your still-sensitive walls until he was buried to the hilt. Your head dropped back onto the pillow, feeling more than a little overwhelmed by all of the thoughts and feelings currently racing around inside of you.

Billy looked down at you, seeming equally lost in the moment, stock-still as if he was holding himself back.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, “I’m okay.”

“Not you I’m worried about,” he answered with an awkward smile. “You feel so fucking good.”

There was an endearing flash of embarrassment on his face and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning up at him, loving that you were able to have such an affect on him

“Hmm, if you keep making comments like that about my body, I’m gonna have to report you to Anvil HR, Mr Russo.”

Billy let out an awkward groan and you felt his cock twitch inside you. 

“Don’t,” he warned, barely biting back a laugh. “Don’t call me that while I’m inside you, Bunny, or this is gonna be over before it starts.”

“Call you what?” You asked teasingly. “Mr Russo.” 

“Bunny...” he all but growled against your lips as he kissed you again.

Finally, he started to draw his hips back and any part of you that wanted to continue to joke and tease quickly fell silent. He set a slow, steady rhythm, letting you feel every inch of his cock as it slid in and out of your heat. 

And it was perfect. You’d never experienced anything so perfect before.

Hitching your thigh on his hip, you let out a long moan, giving yourself over to him completely. 

Eventually he started to pick up the pace, easily pulling more eager sounds from you. Again and again, his lips crashed into yours, each kiss more desperate than the last, like he was trying to prove a point to you.

His arm hooked beneath your knee, pushing your leg up higher, allowing him to sink deeper inside you, and you knew that you were lost. You knew that no man would ever make you feel that good again.

“Billy,” you moaned as he nipped your lower lip again. “... feels so good...”

You felt yourself clench around him, your thighs starting to tremble again as another orgasm threatened to wash over you.

“Let go,” Billy muttered, “come for me, Bunny.”

And you did. You cried out for him as you shattered, your back arching off the mattress, your whole body feeling like it was burning with pleasure from the inside out. It was the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced and, as you moaned and writhed beneath him, you felt Billy let go too.

He gave a grunt as he started to come undone, his cock twitching as your walls clenched around him, the both of you getting lost in ecstasy together.

Billy kissed you again, just as eagerly as every time before, kissing you like he was still trying to prove his worth to you when he’d already more than won you over, as the pleasure slowly started to ebb.

Minutes passed and the pair of you stilled, holding each other tight, neither wanting to let go for the longest time.

When Billy finally moved away, it was only to lay beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. Minutes passed, neither of you speaking, both seeming to just enjoy the close and tender moment.

“What happens now?” You finally dared to ask.

You got no answer and soon realised that he’d fallen asleep snuggled up beside you. 

You didn’t have the heart to wake him, knowing that he needed the rest.

It could wait. 

Everything could wait.

The only thing that mattered was the moment, everything else could be figured out later.

For a few sweet minutes, you watched him sleep, gently running your fingers through his hair. But, exhausted by the drama of the last few days, you shifted closer and closed your eyes, and soon fell asleep in his arms.

A/N : I mean, it's not technically a cliffhanger, it's more of an open sort of ending??😂 I know I say this every time I finish something, but maybe one day I'll come back to this. But, I don't know, I feel like with this ending everyone can have their own idea of how things play out. I enjoyed this though and I enjoyed the challenge of trying to write a more contained story. idk if anyone has noticed this about me but everything I write tends to end up really long, so it was nice to play around with a more straight forward plot? Anyway. I hope everyone enjoys this ending and the fact that Billy is finally getting some sleep.

If you've not voted for what I'm going to write next the poll is here!!! I have no idea what's going on or what's winning and it's a little terrifying. (71 people have voted so far and that's completely mindblowing, so thanks for that!)

In other news, next week I will be posting a cute little one-shot follow-up to Catch Me if You Can. I'm not going to tag everyone who was on the original tag list because it feels awkward and weird to tag people on something I finished almost a year ago. But I'll tag the people who've asked to be tagged on all the Billy stuff.

Anyway hope you all have a great week, and thank you so much for all the love and support you've shown this story!

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @dreadfulxives18 @shwnirwin

@ladyblacky @spitecrow @oliviaewl @snowkestrel @theendofthematerialgworl

@super-clearlysaltybouquet @danzer8705 @benbarnesprettygurl @themorriganisamonster @watersquirtpewpewboomm

[maenoakasuna]

{ All For Us } Part IV Part I - Part II - Part III

This chapter is shorter than the others, i’m sorry, but I really wanted to focus on reader and Thanos feelings, relations, sensations and writhe a beautiful Smut, not just straight up porn.

It gonna my first F U L L Smut in English, so i’m really sorry for 100% bilingual person who gonna read this, but iI swear I did my best. I red a lot of smut before or have dark romance Book at home, so Im not new to this i’m just new to writhe it 😂

If you are not comfortable With Smut, You can Skip the entire Chapter cause it will mostly be it. Sorry not sorry

I hope you will Enjoy it cause not gonna Lie, even if I L O V E smut, I always feel weird to writhe ones.

TW : Smut - P in V - Bitting - Praise kink - Cunni - Thanos behing fucking hot and adorable. Idk for real. it's a fucking smut, figure it out

TagList : @private-vampire @rafesbunniebby @ultracoolnobody @chxrrybomb22

You stayed silent at his question, squeezing tighter your arms as your eyes looked away from his insistent look. You didn’t want to talk about any of this, not here, not now. You wasn’t ready. You weren't ready to talk about your fear, your anxiety, your stress, not ready to talk about the baby and every feeling you have. You weren't ready to face reality. 

You could feel your eyes getting wet, your vision blurring as your body started to shake. Your mouth opened up, you tried to answer, but nothing came out.

You could hear Thanos get closer to you by the sound of the wet floor under your feets. The more step he made to you, the more your heart raced in your chest.

«-I’m sorry.»

That’s all you managed to say. Your voice was a shaking mess. Anxiety started to rush more and more through your veins, insanely going to your brain and making it more fuzzy. You didn’t know why you were sorry. That’s not the thing you wanted to say, but you feared Thanos' anger and you didn’t want to make him mad. 

His silence stressed you more and His step got closer to you.

«-I didn’t know what to do, I never planned any of this. It just happened and I couldn’t just get rid of the kid. What happened is not his fault. I- »

You were cut By Thanos Lips on yours as his large hands cupped your face. You were caught by  surprise by this attention, but it made you feel your stress vanish as soon as you felt him. His lips, his touch, his warmth, all of this made you feel safe. 

Thanos kiss was passionate, eager for you. You don’t remember the last time he kissed you like this. You were still mad about him for what he'd done to you, but right now you couldn’t care less. You needed him probably as much as he Needed you.

Your arms slid around his neck, you fingers lost themself in his purple hair as you answered to his kiss with the same passion, you had missed this feeling that only he can make you feel.

Your lips spread a little bit to let your boyfriend’s tongue pass between them to come meet up with his twin. Your tongues started to dance a beautiful tango of passion. 

Thano’s hands, who were now on your Hips, pressed you more against the cold wall behind you, making you moan through the kiss under the icy effect.

You didn’t realize how much you needed to breathe until Thanos pulled away from your lips, leaving you with flushed cheeks, swollen Lips and a strong need between your legs.

«-Fuck.. »

He whipped out some saliva on his lips, looking at you with the same desir in his eyes as you have for him.

«-Did I already told You how beautiful you are when you look like this. »

You looked away, embarrassed and covered your body with your arms. You completely forgot for a moment that you were Naked. Thanos rooming over your body and stops at your small belly before gently putting his hand on it, making you shiver.

«-I should have been there when you got the news. »

He take a little break before his eyes going back to you as his hand on your belly came to take your chin, forcing you to look at him.

«-I know I fucked up, but I want to be there for you and for our baby. »

‘’ Our ‘’ Baby. It was the word who made you flinch. Your weakness all exposed you couldn’t hold your tears anymore and just hugged him. Your face in his chest you start to cry like you never did before. All those feelings could finally break free ; Sadness, fear, happiness. It was a messy mix of everything. Thanos hugged you back and placed his hand on your head.

«-I love You Y/N I always did, even If I never told you. High or Not, you always were on my mind since the day we met. You are the drug I can’t quit.-Fuck You Su-Bong, you should have told me that before…»

You still cried in his arms as he gently caressed your hair.

«-I know. I’m sorry. I’ill Understand if you want me to fuck off and leave You alone, but please don’t push me away from this kid. He’s not even born yet but I already feel like I could kill for that Child...»

You sniff and look up at your Boyfriend who smiled at you.

«-You’re not mad about that ?-About what ? You being pregnant ? How could I ? This is the living proof that I  marked You inside and out, He answered with a Smirk.»

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as a little amusing ‘’ gross ‘’ came out of your mouth.

Thanos gets on his knee in front of you and gently kiss and talk to your little bump. It was adorable, but also pretty hot. 

Your arousal from the kiss was still there, you squeezed your tights to try to calm down, but the image of his lips and tongue between your legs was too hot to be ignored. Your breath started to be a little bit heavier as you put your shaking hand in Thanos' hair.

«-Su-Bong, can You… »

Thanos looked up at you and smiled when he noticed your state.

«-Princess want to be taken care of, hm ? »

His deep voice, his pet name for you, it turned you on more as you nodded at his question.

It didn’t take that long for him to start his magic, first with his fingers, sliding them between your already dripping folds. You spread your legs a little to let him have some space, but he wanted to have the perfect view. Gripping your Tight, he put it on his shoulder, making you blush. 

«-I like to see How wet I can make you »

His fingers slide easily in you, making you gasp. He moved it in and out at a slow pace before his lips came to meet your Clit, sucking it at first before his tongue started to work around. 

Eyes closed you pull on his hair under the sensation of his hot mouth around your sensitive part. It felt more sensitive than it was before, making you moan his name again and again. You had to put your other hand on your mouth to shut you up. Grinting, Thanos stop his work on your clit and bites the skin of your tight, making you scream.

«-Remove that hand or I will bite Harder.-But, the guards will hear everything..»

He bites you again, sucking on your skin as his fingers continue to move in and out. He curled them a little bit when he felt he hitted the good spot. When his teeths let go of your skin, it hurt and you noticed the bruise Thanos had let you. He kisses the painful part before looking at you again.

«-Your hand, Beautiful, he said as a warning.»

You slowly removed your hand which covered your mouth, making him smile.

«-That’s my good girl. »      

Oh gods, you like it so much when he gives you that kind of pet name, when he praises you and he could tell by how hard your inside squeezed his fingers. 

Removing it from inside of you, Thanos gets up and starts to Undress under your hungry eyes. You have seen him more than once but you still feel amazed by how hot he looks. Once he’s naked, he grips your ass and pulls you from the ground and you wrap your hands around his hips as he easily inserts himself in you. 

You felt your inside stretch out and that was simply divine. You took  him like you were made for him. As he feel you clench around him, Thanos let a hungry grunt escape his lips. His forehead placed on your shoulder, he try to focus to not just destroy you.

«-Please… Su-bong, don’t hold back.»

His hands on your ass grip you harder as he pressed your back against the wall before starting to move. The feeling of each other was insanely amazing. Behind moans, growls, slurpy kiss and love bite all over each other’s body, you was both somewhere else where only you two belong, feeling like your soul could escape your body, making only one. Behind pleasure, you felt safe, you felt loved, it was all you needed.

«-I love you »

You managed to moan to thano’s ear as you grip his shoulder a little bite more. You could feel your orgasm coming quickly.

«-I love you too princess, so fucking much.»

He kissed you again as you came undone around him. Moaning trought the kiss. You became more sensitive and since Thanos didn’t stop moving, trusting  faster and harder inside you, You came another time and it Didn’t took long to your partner to do the same. 

You both were breathless, every muscles of your bodies was tired and so do you. You needed sleep and your eyes started to close as you rest your forehead on thanos shoulder.

«-Don’t fall asleep Now, we need to wash ourself before.-Yeah… you’re right.»

Thanos pulled out of you and put you back on your feets. Your legs was shaky, you needed your boyfriend’s help to stand. 

As your partner opened the water, he helped you wash yourself, making you blush.

«-I can do it myself, you know… -You seem tired. Let me help you for this time.»

He gently kiss you and continue his task as you let him do it, but only for this time.

[creepsterdreams]

heyyy, is it okay to ask for touchstarved li's with a reader who's a hugger? Just something fluffy for the soul. Thankss :D

Fluff is always a win in my book✨plus I have a feeling some of them absolutely LOVE hugs even if they don’t admit it themselves

I hope you enjoy anon! Your very welcomeee ^_^

TOUCHSTARVED headcanons: MC who’s a hugger

Cw: tooth aching fluff, Vere and Mhin being meanies at first, some mentions of violence, some suggestiveness from Vere

LEANDER

You picked just the right man for this

He could be having an entire conversation with someone and if he sees you rushing towards him he opens his warms with a huge smile on his face and waits for you to jump on him

And he will excuse himself and casually walk away with you in his arms

“Excuse me please, it seems someone needs my attention.😁”

The fact that you are a hugger only makes him fall even MORE in love with you

BEAR HUGS

Uses any and every possible excuse to have his arms on or around you

Sitting at the bar of the Wet Wick? He’s draped himself over your body and is cuddling into your nape

Just succeeded at the smallest thing? He’s lifting you up and twirling you around

Just seeing you for the first or last time that day? Your both huddled up and swaying back and forth for at least 5 whole minutes

He’s blackout drunk? Will literally drag you around wherever with an arm around you

It irritates almost everyone around you but they don’t have the heart to say anything about it

You know except Vere, Mhin, and Ais probably-

The amount of times they’ve walked in on you two damn near molded into one, they lost count

“Should we let you two be so you can keep humping each other?” - Vere

Cue Leander’s embarrassed laughing

That still doesn’t stop him though

But in all honesty he loves the fact that you love hugs

Because that means he can be as affectionate as he wants with you :>

But it also means that whenever he’s sad mode he can just…flop into your arms and lay his head on your chest

Trust him when he says that no therapy can top the feeling of your arms wrapped around him while you gently rub his back

Will totally NOT use physical affection as a way to get what he wants

Please hug this man I can tell that he needs it

AIS

Whew boy…this one’s a doozy

He has the option to just hug you back and go about his day, but then again this is Ais we're talking about he refuses to NOT tease you

He see’s you running up to him, opened arms preparing to jump on him and he stands there, not doing a damn thing

He fully allows you to just tackle him and stand there with your arms around him

He stares down at you with that same smug grin

“Feeling touchy today, sparrow?”

Now just because he’s teasing you doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the hugs

In fact he l o v e s them

The rare days he actually does decide to reciprocate the affection he doesn’t let you go for as long as he can

He’s walking into the wet wick with your legs wrapped around his waist and arms on his shoulders, his hands sitting right underneath your butt securing you in his embrace

All everyone can do is just stare at him like “this fucking guy”

CUDDLE PILES WITH THE SOULLESS

Especially princess

The days where it’s extremely cold or he’s just feeling lovey dovey you’ll spend hours huddled up at the seaspring with princess laying across both of your laps and the rest of the soulless surrounding you

Like Leander, uses any possible reason to hug you like it’s the last time he’ll see you

Will walk up to you and lift you up with one arm to spin you around

Do not say your too heavy. He will challenge you on that

The last thing you hear before being lifted up is a raspy “come ‘er you”

The worse days where the voices of the hive mind are clouding any of his own thoughts and making him more loopy than usual, your arms is usually the first thing he seeks

Standing there for long periods of time, his body simply draping itself onto you, his head buried deep into your neck, all he needed was the feeling of your own arms around him, your face pressed against his chest

And just maybe if you listened close enough, you could hear what sounded like purring

KURAS

Hmm

Hmmmmm

I get the feeling that at first he would be caught off guard, not used to the feeling of someone clinging onto him so often

For some time he simply chuckles whenever you hug him and gives you a slightly awkward pat on the back before you pull away

But once he actually starts getting used to your affection, he’s more than happy to give it right back :>

Unlike the others who are fully prepared and have arms waiting for you, this tall man instead stands there with absolutely no intention of moving

He lets you run to him and pull him into a tight hold, paying no attention to what’s happening around him as he rests his hand on the small of your back, gently rubbing it

He never explicitly states that he loves or hates the hugs, but he does never pull away whenever you do it

If you happen to be at the clinic whenever he’s dealing with a patient and you wanted a hug he would tell you as gently as possible to wait a moment

“Give a minute would you my dear, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Very soft but very firm <3

Does not give a fuck if other people say something about your excessive hugging

He’ll give them a harsh side eye but otherwise say nothing about it 

If there is any chance he wants a hug back, he won’t directly say it, but he will make it known he wants one

Walks up to you and simply says “my love” before grabbing you by the hand to pull you close

It’s sudden, but that doesn’t make it any less wholesome

The kind of man to let you run up and hug him with all of your strength and simply continue the conversation he was having

Imagine one rare night he decides to bring out his wings and wraps them around you to add to the hug

Probably one of the few cases where he’s brought out his wings that wasn’t for “other” reasons

VERE

Wheeewwww all I have to say is, good luck

If you thought Ais was bad with the teasing, Vere will do you one better

The second you wrap your arms around him it’s like he’s programmed to bully you

“Aw well isn’t someone feeling needy.”

He’s not pulling away, but that doesn’t mean he’s shutting up lmao

The first time you did it, he simply stood there. Ears pressed down as his tail was fluffed up

He didn’t know what to do. I don’t think this guy has gotten a genuine hug before

His first instinct was to push you away, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do that. You weren’t attacking him or anything, you were just, embracing him?

Once you did pull away he replaced his initial shock with a smirk, using his pointer finger to lift your chin and ask if you wanted to touch him that badly

It takes him longer than Kuras to get used to your affection, he’s probably only used to being touched if it’s sex related unfortunately

Prefers if you gently wrap your arms around him instead of running up and practically jumping on him

He’ll be damned before he looks like a fool in public

Pray for whoever decides to be brave enough to comment on your hugging because it can go two ways

Vere says fuck it and kills them right there

Or he sends them so many passive aggressive comments they just walk away reevaluating their life

Only HE can bully you

Takes him forever to start coming to you for comfort hugs

It would have been at least some time after you’ve known each other

One day he just straight up drags you away from what your doing, making sure it was just you and him

He then proceeds to damn near suffocate you with his hold, but after a few seconds you hug him back, both of you locked in place, his tail wagging in pure glee

He tells you to pretend it never happened but you can see the way his tail sways whenever you hug him again

MHIN

In all honesty, they are probably the first one to actually push you away the first time you hug them

Not used to physical affection at ALL but also does not desire it

They didn’t mean to be so forceful when they pushed you, they just genuinely weren’t expecting you to be so…so

Affectionate?

So when you run up and jump on them one day after they just finished hunting soulless their all like “⁉️⁉️”

When you look at them with concern they just tsk and look away

“At least ask first.”

Is fully aware of your hugger tendencies they just…don’t know what to do with that

For some time you do ask first if it’s okay to hug them, and they say yes, but then they proceed to just stand there stiff as a board as you love on them

But if anyone dares to bring up your clinginess their quick to snap back at them

ESPECIALLY if it’s anyone besides Kuras

Even if they don’t show it, they do appreciate you being willing to be physically affectionate in anyway

Especially after so many years of them being convinced that no one could love a monster

Also prefers if you would gently hug them than run up, but also wouldn’t mind the second thing

If you do then they just blush and flick you on the head

Because I have a feeling that they are someone that you cannot sneak up on so there’s a good chance they heard you coming💔

After a while (like a few months) they eventually get used to your constant hugging, so if there’s ever a day where you aren’t wrapped around them then they are quick to wonder if your okay

We love soft Mhin

On the very rare days that Mhin ever seeks out your hugs for comfort, they make sure that they make it count

Like Vere, pulls you aside so it’s just the two of you and simply gives you a tight squeeze, with their hand resting on the back of your head

After that pull away and then pretend nothing just happened but you can see the blush on their face <3

[lonesilverw0lf]

I had this other idea right after I posted the first Mom Friend idea, only to find several more posts already made! It’s all amazing work too, I’m kinda jealous. Either I’m slow as hell, or y’all write too damned fast! Either way, didn’t wanna throw this away so here it is. Please enjoy!

Mom friend(now shortened to Mama) and Tomboy are sharing a cup of tea when Tomboy gets sleepy all of a sudden. Mama leads her to a room where MC has been knocked unconscious and dropped into a bed. Quickly putting Tomboy into the bed with MC, she covers them with a blanket and closes the room.

Goth, standing right by the door: Do you have to do that? And how did you snag MC in the first place? I didn’t even know he was here.

Mom: Oh MC was actually because of Bully and Track Girl bringing him in. It was Bully’s idea apparently. I was surprised too. Almost made my eyes open. I just wish MC wasn’t literally dragged in with all those lumps on his head. I’m sure Bully thought it was necessary, and he’s probably right, but still…

Goth: That still doesn’t explain why you essentially drugged Tomboy and locked them in a room together. Trying to play matchmaker?

Mama: What? Can you blame me? Those two are cute. Oh I sure underestimated the strength of the sleeping herbs in the tea, that’s on me. Not like I could tell how strong they were with MC being half unconscious when I gave some to him in the first place. They’ll both be out for the rest of the day at least. They both need their rest and if anyone can help MC with his anxiety it’s- wait. Are you jealous?

Goth: Jealous? What? Now you’re being dumb.

Mama: You’re jealous that they’re cuddling like we used to! You’re feeling lonely!

Goth: Now you’re delusional.

Mama, squishing Goths face: If you wanted some attention you just have to ask! It’s not like I can deny my precious twin sister anything in the whole world!

Goth, swatting Mamas hands away: No! Go away! We haven’t done that since we were like seven!

Mama, wrapping Goth up in a hug: It’s perfectly normal to want some loving! Studies show that a healthy mind and body needs a minimum of four hugs a day for just surviving, eight for maintenance, and twelve for growth. When was the last time you got hugged since we were summoned here? You must be deep in hugging withdrawal!

Goth, groaning into her hands: What did I do in a past life to get cursed with you as a sister?

Mama: Oh don’t be a Grumpy Joe! You know you love me!

Goth: He was such a good kitty. Had the stupidest face.

Mama: We’ll I’m sure it wasn’t his fault he had a medical condition that made his face scrunch like that. Cmon, let’s go take a bath! I’ll wash your back~!

Goth, squirming out of Mama’s hug: No. Get away from me you perv.

Mama, smirking and in a dramatically flowery story voice: “‘Oh please Edward, not there! Not now!’ Shania moaned, ‘We can’t be doing this!’ But Edwards hands refused to stop, as if they had a mind of their own. Her breath hitched as he-“

Goth, now mortified: You read that?!

Mama: You’re the one who posted it on wattpad ya goob! And those two other websites! You also should do a better job looking after your creative journal. The amount of places I’ve found it out in the open, oh dear~. I must say, for someone who claims to be ‘one of the darkness’ you are pretty innocent in love and even your perverse fantasies are mild! Oh wait, you did write that one about that modern Duke and his ‘fun room’. Although that was pretty mellow too. Where did you get the inspiration? I know you haven’t read 50 Shades, so where did you- did you sneak into mom’s stash again?

Goth, trying to pull her hair out: Argh! You and dad both! That’s it! You just volunteered yourself to be my first cursed subject! Where’s that rat?! I need a sacrifice!

Mama, grabbing Goth by the shoulders and pushing her down the hall: You’re so tense! It’s not like I told them! Cmon, after a nice hot bath I’ll treat you to a nice massage~! Oh? And perhaps an adjustment, your cervical vertebrae don’t feel right. What have you been using for a pillow?

Skater Boy, seated at a table with Queen Bee and Flower Girl, his eyes following them and locked onto Mama’s dump truck of an ass: Now I’m jealous.

Queen bee grabs him by the ear: Now you knock it off! It’s disgusting to see men lusting after Mama! Especially a slacker like yourself!

Skater grabs her nose: Don’t gimme that crap! I see you girls ogling her just as much as any guy! Probably even more so since you all share a locker room! And don’t act like you don’t drool whenever us guys have to train without shirts on!

Flower girl: He’s not wrong Bee, on both counts. And it’s not like any of us would turn down one of Mama’s massages either. Still boggles my mind that those two are twins. They look nothing alike and I get mistaken for any three of my sisters all the time! My younger brother a few times too.

Skater, rubbing his ear: Eh wait til he hits puberty and then that’ll stop. Genetics are weird sometimes. I still get told that I look like my great uncle when he was my age. It’s more shocking to see Goth make those kinda faces. Only Mama can pull anything out of her. She’s so cooly collected with anyone else.

Bee, rubbing her nose: Me and my cousin are often mistaken for sisters too. It might help that our moms are sisters in the first place. Oh Skater, what were you doing out so late last night for?

Skater: Hm? Oh right! Thanks for reminding me. Here Flower, I was checking out the area for those weird plants that you were talking about.

Flower: What weird plants? I’m don’t- *le gasp* a whole bag of knucklebrom weed?! With the seeds and the flowers and roots and everything?!

Skater: MC helped me figure out where to even get some. He was just as lost as to why you wanted them in the first place.

Flower, smiling manically: Oh all the potions I can make with you~! Mix in some iodine, some powdered crows beak, maybe if I- *continues rambling on*

Skater, deadpan to Bee: She is such a Maomao when it comes to her plants and alchemy it’s not even funny.

Bee, equally deadpan: How has she not seen Apothecary Diaries? That would be right up her alley. Kinda looks like her too.

Skater: Throw a kimono on her, give her a haircut, get rid of her glasses, and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

Bee: If Netflix ever wants to do a live action of that show, and part of me prays that they won’t, but if they do they better cast her as Maomao.

Skater: You’re kidding? We talking the same Netflix?

Bee: Nah, you’re right. They’ll completely fuck it up.

~

Some minor backstory to the new characters

Skater boy is a slacker without a real direction in life, stays out of trouble but isn’t very dependable. Chill and easygoing, largely nonthreatening, puts in the bare minimum of work to have a good time or just vibe, got that 90s ‘yo dudes’ surfer vibe. This trip has been giving him the kick in the ass he needs.

Flower Girl runs her family’s flower shop and greenhouse with her siblings. Busy as a bee type, but only among plants and on a schedule who follows the rules to a tee. She’s becoming more confident and now is trying new things, even bending some rules. Having an alchemy instructor that’s half mad due to a few too many screwed up recipes blowing up in his face will do that to someone. Just hope she doesn’t absorb too much of his insanity.

The standard 'entire class gets isekai'd to a fantasy world and the outcast MC is basically discarded' anime setting, where the MC, now assumed dead, decides to instead help the class of Heroes in the shadows, making sure they live up to what the people need.

However, the entire class knows that he's alive and are hellbent on dragging that son of a bitch back into the spotlight and to give him the recognition he deserves.

(And maybe because he was basically the entire class's Little Guy™.)

[growth-opportunities]

A woman tried taking pills to grow her breasts just a small and reasonable amount, but immediately became hopelessly addicted.

Okay, so, you know how some people have not-so-great coping mechanisms? I mean, we all know that smoking is bad for us, and yet some people, not me, but some people need a cigarette or two to make it through a bad day and another to relax after making it through. And then you have the barflies who stop for a few beers every day after work "just to relax" and then we let those guys drive home! All I'm saying is that everyone has different ways of coping with stress, so I really don't need judgement just because my vice of choice is growth pills.

In my defense, they were advertised as temporary! One pill was supposed to grant three cup sizes for a few hours and then they'd go back down again. If Bobby Barstool can get drunk for a few hours and then go about his life, then why can't I have a few hours of fun for myself? The first time I did it, I only took one. And god it felt good. I forgot to take my bra off (I guess I really didn't think that they would work) and so watching my tits grow and bulge out of them was... fuck. Words fail me, is the point. The eroticism of that alone was intense but the increased sensitivity really sold me on it. I barely noticed the time passing, very nearly getting used to them at that size before they shrank away, leaving me with my modest but respectable C cups.

And it went like that for a while. Got home from work, shed my work clothes, popped a pill, blissed out for a few hours, and then made dinner. Occasionally, I'd take one before a night out on the town, but their sensitivity made it a lot more tempting just to stay home and play with them. It was a simple routine.

But, y'know, it's one of those slippery slope things. I had one really, really bad day, so I said fuck it and I took two pills instead of one. J cups, man. Instant J cups. And from there it was easy to go up to three pills, then four pills. It was incredible. They lasted a little bit longer when I took more of them, but it was safe, reliable, and the pleasure was only slightly addicting.

Well, maybe not entirely safe.

So, it would seem that I didn't always go back to my normal size when the pills wore off. Not completely. I wound up being a little bit bigger. Taking one pill at a time, the effect was barely noticeable, easily chalked up to a bit of swelling. But the longer it went on and the more pills I took, the more obvious it became. The crazy thing was that, even though I was actively, legitimately growing, not just temporarily, they still felt small! Coming down from a P cup to a D cup was still a big drop and so it was hard to gauge just how fast I was growing. And I tried to stop or just slow down, but, fuck, sometimes you just gotta take the edge off by turning yourself into a fat-titted cow, drooling over your own cleavage while you pinch your nipples and moan like a whore. And even though I told myself that it was only a little bit of growth here or there, given enough time, it starts to add up. And the bigger I got, the less difference three cup sizes made, so I had to keep taking more which just made me grow faster and it fed on itself until, well, I don't even think there are cup sizes when you're this big.

Oh, gosh, sorry, I get a little rambly. I know you've probably got to take other calls. Anyway, all of that is to say are you sure your company can't make me a compression bra for a bust measurement over 100 inches? ...Hello?

[razorblade180]

Actor AU6

Ruby:You know what’s funny about filming a movie where you’re aged up? *steps aside*

Summer:*in DC costume* Sup.

Ruby:I wonder how many people are going to notice the difference.

Summer:They’ll know it’s me when the acting improves.

Ruby:Wow!

xxxxxxx

Blake:Excuse me ma’am. Where’s the bathroom?

Yang:Oh it’s just…*flexes bicep* That way to the left.

Blake:Haha, why thank you.

Yang:There’s also one to the…*flexes tricep* right over here.

Nora:Stop it before you pull something you dork.

xxxxxx

Interviewer: So, Yang Xiao Long, fans have noticed you got a few gains for this movie.

Yang:Yep! Never again haha!

Interviewer:What? Why not.

Weiss:She was such a baby off set.

Yang:Mad respect for personal trainers and gym enthusiasts. I like to feel a burn but I missed my arms not being sore. Adam would literally be nice enough to make me oatmeal and I’d just look at sadly because I don’t want to lift the spoon.

Interviewer:Was it as painful for the rest of you?

Blake:I actually think I like protein shakes now and that’s deeply upsetting.

Weiss:I’ve always lived the gym life. They wanted more squats so I gave them more squats.

xxxxxx

Ruby:*sitting sadly*

Superman:*sits beside her* It seems you have a lot on your mind?

Ruby:A lot has changed since we last met; big changes. Atlas fell, my sister and I got into a fight, now we’re here and…Jessica keeps asking about Jaune.

Superman:*tucks lips in* Mmhmm..

Ruby:Like…damn bitch, it was adventure. Let it go.

Crew laughing in the background

Ruby:I got dozens with this guy. Get in line!

xxxxxx

Ozpin:*swinging cane*

Ruby:*getting beaten*

Jessica:*off screen*…I’m actually the director on this episode.

Ruby:*having a panic attack*

Jessica:I wish I was joking. I needed the experience.

xxxxxx

Blake:Guys, I think I know where we are.

Beautiful wide panning shot

Blake:…I think we’re in Candy Land~

Weiss:Fuck ooooffff. *covers face* That was so random! Ahaha!

Yang:Honestly falling from your world into Candy Land sounds more terrifying than a place like Wonderland.

Bloop!

Blake:I think we’re in Wonderland.

Director Roman:Ever After…

Blake:*nods*…I said that so confidently to. Holy hell…

xxxxxx

Jaune:Today I met a little girl who was a RWBY fan. She asked me if there was any way to come back stage to pet Juniper. *bites muffin* I couldn’t tell her that Juniper was a prop.

Neo:So what did you say?

Jaune:I told her I actually don’t get to see him either. Now both of our days are ruined. This job is cruel.

xxxxxx

Pyrrha:Sup guys. It’s me, here to traumatize you again. *flips camera*

Penny:I’m here for the kill assist.

Pyrrha:You think we’ll be in final episode somehow?

Penny:Oh absolutely. I signed up for the role of “Ruby’s friend” and somehow landed “ghost of the narrative” by mistake.

Pyrrha:Saaame! Funny how that works out.

xxxxxx

Weiss:Where are Blake and Yang?

Jaune:Must’ve had bigger things to work out.

Meanwhile on storming bridge

Yang:Bl- what the!?

Adam:*draws sword* THIS ONE IS FOR ALL THE MARBLES!!

Blake:Sorry! The more I tried to not of the worst situation, the harder it got!

Yang:…*looks at camera* Can we keep this?

Roman:No.

Yang:But I want another cool fight!

xxxxxx

Oscar:*getting makeup done*

Penny:Ready to die on screen?

Oscar:Yeah. I took notes from the best.

Penny:So you’ve been looking at me?

Oscar:Whenever I can.

Penny:*giggles*

Coco:Hold still and stop flirting!

xxxxxx

Jabberwok:*crumbles into Neo*

Neo:*finger guns*…..*makes Adam*

Blake:Oh my gooood!

Yang:*grinning* THIS ONE IS FOR ALL THE MARBLES!

Adam:JUST WHAT I WANTED TO HEAR! FACE MEEEEE!

Ruby:At this point you should just put him at the tea party.

Nora:You don’t even canonically know him!

Ruby:But it would be hilarious!

Weiss:What kills me is an army of Adams would probably be more effective than the Jabberwoks.

xxxxx

Ruby:*in a bat suit* This is the secret life option the blacksmith didn’t want to reveal.

Weiss:Ruby calls on quits and chooses Gotham over Remnant.

Blake:Willingly going to Gotham City is crazy. Life is not that bad.

Ruby:I don’t wanna take this off.