#i’m just morphing into a little bit of a bitch when it comes to men

[always-andromeda]

Man on hinge: I think I like your glasses chain in this photo better than the ones in your other photos. 😎

Me, internally: Don’t care, didn’t ask, get fucked.

[missskzbiased]

The Things We Don’t Tell

Summary: You were sure your life was written and directed to fit a sketchy Rom-Com and nobody could convince you otherwise. First, your boss was too hot to be true, and burning with desire didn’t even begin to explain the tingling sensations he left on you. Second, your coworker (a.k.a. Ex-About-to-be-FWB) insisted in turning your life into a living hell, which wasn’t the exact kind of hotness you were into. And if having these two hot men around you every single day of your life wasn’t enough to prove it, maybe the threat of your slutty secret identity about to be busted would be… But you couldn’t let this happen.

WC: 7,5 K

Genre: Smut, Humor (?)

AUs: Office, Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Bang Chan  

(Not really a love triangle as Hyunjin is the Lead. However, Reader wants to Bang Chan)

Rebloggable Masterlist    //   Main Masterlist   //   Tag List

Warnings: Language, Thigh riding, Public space (Office), Exhibitionism, Possessiveness, Pet Name (Baby girl), Sir Kink  

[If I forgot anything, please let me know! I’m kinda sleepy right now]

Notes: There will be at least one more chapter but I won’t do a tag list post for now, only if someone wants it, cuz I’m too lazy to think about doing it right now. This fic is an attempt to experiment with some writing style things that I’ve been wanting to try. I don’t think it worked, tho SUHAHUSAUHSUHA But that’s life

- I’ll quite possibly change the title in the future-

                                                            ///

  You are a superhero.

    Okay! To be honest, you may be exaggerating a little bit ─ a tiny harmless little bit ─ but that was how you felt every single day of your life, alright? You had this glorious and mysterious side of yours that you hid from everyone else in the world… That mask that you couldn’t let come to the ground and would fight for dear life to protect… That side to your persona that no one was allowed to meet… The fierce, bold, and dark aspects of your soul that—

    “Y/N! I want those papers on my table!”

    “Yes, sir!” You shrieked in an embarrassing (not even slightly bold) way.

    — That you couldn’t show at your work.

    Yeah… So maybe no one actually thought of you as a superhero, but you really believed someone should start to. Was there something that different between your life and those low-budget TV shows people seem to enjoy so much? You didn’t think so.

  To be fair, sometimes you felt like someone wrote a questionable script and poorly directed your life to fit you as the leading lady of a sketchy rom-com. As if they just focused on checking out every point on a bullet list made up with rules for a successful superhero office drama that wasn’t even that good…

    … And speaking of which…

    Rule Number One: The stern (maybe kinda attractive) boss!

    If you had to define Bang Chan with a couple of adjectives, you would choose undeniably beautiful ─ extremely professional of you because the right words to describe him were fucking hot ─ and committed. Fortunately, it wasn’t an “I have someone waiting for me at home and a bunch of kids I must put to sleep” kind of commitment, which would destroy your hopes of having this man one day. Unfortunately, it was an “I’m better than the header and gonna run this company by tomorrow night” kind of commitment, which destroys your hopes of a peaceful day at work.

    Now, it’s not like you don’t want to do your job! It’s just that you didn’t sign up to be Bang Chan’s perfect little toy ─ definitely not the better words to describe it ─ and you didn’t expect to be joined by the hips ─ really? ─ with him or any of your coworkers. The thing is that Bang Chan wants to be on top ─ someone has to stop you ─ and he believes the only way to get there is to work as a team and be as perfect as one can be. In other words, Bang Chan wants absolutely everything and everyone to be neat, tight, and ready to be used ─ again… Not the better way to put your thoughts into words ─, but this just wasn’t who you were.  

    It also wasn’t the point right now.

    The point right now should be the fact that Bang Chan was striding to his office looking like he owned the whole damn place… If this was a movie, the camera would be focusing on his expensive, black leather shoes before scanning all the way up to his waist in slow motion. The scene would zoom in on his fine ass only to go a little bit up and catch the shiny, black belt wrapping around his figure. The outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination, but you had a hell of a productive mind… You could think of a few things you shouldn’t really be thinking about right now.

    Bang Chan didn’t seem to understand he was at work either.

    He rolled his sleeve up in a sexy motion that should be illegal. It isn’t. You can tell by the way there are no cops bursting inside the building and arresting this gorgeous son of a bitch.

    The lack of any authorities to stop this atrocious moment had you lowering your gaze to your desk ─ a vain attempt to ignore the way his forearms flexed as he gestured and ordered people around. If you were a little bit less professional, you would have some ideas of how he could do it in bed. With you. But you weren’t some kind of creepy perv who would be fantasizing about riding your own boss from dusk till dawn.

    Not at all.

    “Do you need me, Sir?” His secretary asks politely.

  A question that you would love to ask him too… In a totally and strictly professional way, of course.

    Rule Number Two: The (extremely unnecessary) nemesis!

    The shiver running down your spine could mean only one thing: Hwang Hyunjin ─ your obnoxious coworker ─ was standing right behind you, just like a bloody damn ghost. There was no need to turn around. You knew he had his mocking eyes glued on Bang Chan’s figure, and you could feel the air shifting as he tilted his head in a silent sneer before leaning on your desk.

    You refused to turn around and acknowledge his presence; painfully aware that he would flash a wide grin while looking at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. You wouldn’t give him the taste of seeing in your face that he was right; that you were staring at your boss as if you were a starving vulture. So you did the only thing you could do in this situation: You started to work. The sheets scattered over your desk wouldn’t walk by themselves to Bang Chan’s room, right?

    And neither would you if it depended on Hyunjin.

    The attempts to swipe the papers in your direction and gather everything you needed ─ to finally get rid of Hyunjin ─ proved to be vain as his hand took root on the desk. You pursed your lips in annoyance while glancing at his prominent knuckles and slender fingers; wondering if he would be so collected if he knew you wanted to crunch them. Probably not. But he gets off so fucking much on upsetting you that he might just want to take the risk anyway.

    “What do you want, asshole?” You hissed; stopping your motions before turning around to stare blankly at him.

    The face of an angel was the most accurate way to describe the sight in front of you. Plump, pink lips molded into a sweet smile and dark brown eyes morphed into cute crescents. None of those features fit his true self, though. Underneath the angelic façade, there was a demon called Hwang Hyunjin ─ who was resting his free hand on your shoulder for no reason besides driving you crazy.

    It would be easier if he was just a pretty face, but Hyunjin had a good body too. The guy looked just like a model ─ slim, tall, and classy ─, and even though only his collarbones peeked out from down his shirt, you knew that there was much more than the eyes could see.

    Well, you never saw it, but you had felt it.

    As far as you could remember, each curve on Hyunjin’s abs was craft by God himself. The way his chest was built for you to caress would be forever craved on your mind. You might never forget how soft his lips were in contrast to his lap… How his thighs flexed just right when you pulled his hair… How reactive he was… How his moans sounded… And how he put everything to waste.

    “Oh, nothing” He shrugged. As usual, his voice was just like sweet, hot honey; still, you could wipe the poison dripping down his chin, “I was just wondering if you had enough time to do your job while fucking your boss inside your head” He clarified sarcastically, cracking you a smile.

    Sometimes you regretted not putting his mouth to good use… He really needed to learn how to shut up for a while and stop being so… Unbearable. The silence he met had him scoffing; body leaning even closer to the point his face was practically hovering over yours ─ smugness plastered all over it. You held his gaze to confront him; breathe mingling with his in a heated mix that matched the anger under your eyes.

    Was he licking his lips as he stared at yours? Oh boy… He definitely wanted to get laid. It was your time to scoff as the frown on your lips turned into a smirk; eyes twinkling mischievously as you looked into his in a silent teasing. As if sensing that he was in trouble, Hyunjin tilted his head to look even more obnoxious than he was; face coming closer to yours to defy your newfound confidence.

     “You know what? If you stared at him any longer, I think his balls might have fallen off…” He whispered in a tone loud enough for just you to hear “Unless he saw the way you were looking at him… Then I guess his dick would go straight up” He assured you with a ‘friendly’ pat on your shoulder as he finally let go of your papers and straightened his back.

    “Are you saying it from experience?” You sneered; grimacing at him.

    “Are you telling me that you want me to fuck you too?” He retorted gibingly; not even thinking twice about it.

    “No” You tilted your head, trying to stay composed, “I’m reminding you that you couldn’t even kiss me without getting a boner… Just like a teenage boy” He arched a brow at your statement; pursing his lips as he hummed in wonder “I’m surprised you never came in your pants like the pathetic thing you are” He laughed; poking his cheek with his tongue before squeezing your shoulder in a silent warning.

    “I must have been quite a sight if you can remember it so vividly” You pretended not to notice the way he sniggered, pushing away the urge to punch his face.

  Nemesis was just a classy way to call him a pain in the ass.

  Rule Number Three: The (plain and uninteresting) secret identity!

  It would be impossible to miss the moment Hyunjin’s devilish smirk morphed into a bright, friendly smile. The snarky comment on the tip of your tongue was swallowed back in a bit; grimace dissolving into a wide grin as if you weren’t about to throw your fists at him. He giggled as his arms spread open before snaking around your body to pull you into a tight hug; holding you close and rocking your body side to side as a soft huff fell from your lips.

    If you didn’t know any better, your knee would be buried between his legs.

  “Way to go, Y/N!” He chirped, loosening his grip to take a better look at your face; eyes smiling as if the both of you were the bestest of friends in the entire world, “You’re awesome! I’m so proud… I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you as my teammate” He pursed his lips; dimples showing as he offered you nothing but affection in his gaze.

    You did know better, though, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out who was standing behind your back as you opened your mouth to answer him: “There’s no one I’d rather be with!” You reassured Hyunjin in a sweet, mirthful tone; tilting your head to return the fondness in his look in an act worthy of an Oscar “We’re a team, you know? You can’t get rid of me so easily” He laughed wholeheartedly at that; ruffling your hair before leaning closer to you again, resuming the hug.

    “We’ll see about that” He whispered in your ear, making you scoff.

    “What are you gonna do? Cry to Daddy so you won’t work with me anymore?” You hissed back; breaking away from his hug with a tight grin before turning around to meet Chan’s gaze.

    The surprise plastered over your face was millimetrically calculated; just like the way you pretended to be flustered as you stared into your boss’ eyes to see the pride shining on them. You brought the papers closer to your chest in what was meant to be an innocent, coy way ─ a technique mastered over the months you worked for him ─, and Chan seemed to fall for it as he giggled in delight. The poor guy had no clue all of this was as fake as your camaraderie towards Hyunjin, and he wasn’t about to discover it anytime soon if it depended on you.

    Luckily, it did! You had taken some acting classes; just enough for your next words to be naturally convincing: “I’m so sorry, Sir! We’re just so happy that –” The words were deliberately drawled to give him enough time to interrupt you. Just like you knew he would. And it was a good thing that he did because you had no idea of how you were supposed to finish that sentence anyway.

    You were a good actress, not a professional improviser.

    “Don’t mention it” He cut you off giggly; detaching himself from the doorframe he leaned on as he watched the friendly scene taking place.

    The amount of cuteness this man could deliver in his smile wasn’t fair, and it didn’t match the sensuality a simple gesture of his overflowed with, enchanting you. You gulped down as he gave both of you a silent order to follow him into his room, wondering if the duality he had in the office was remotely similar to what he could do in bed ─ a thought that shouldn’t be having a place in your mind right now.

    Hyunjin seemed to pick up on it pretty quickly too, and as soon as Chan turned around to head to his office, he bumped his shoulder onto yours. The obnoxious action was followed by your elbow diving into his ribs; a retaliation that took you less than a second and, luckily, Chan ─ or any of your coworkers ─ didn’t seem to notice. Neither of you gave away your silent quarrel as Hyunjin closed the door behind him, smiling at you when Chan finally took his seat.

     “It’s good to see that you guys have such chemistry” He confessed, and you had to suppress a scoff when you looked into his eyes. He had no idea… The chemistry between you two was enough to make you want to blow each other, “You know what I always say, right?” He boasted on a sing-song; much more at ease than he seemed to be earlier.

    You weren’t about to put that on the line, though.

    “You can’t have teamwork if you don’t have a team!” You warbled in unison.

    “That’s the spirit!” Chan gurgled, heading to his desk in a visibly good mood.

    What was going on? He wouldn’t be so happy just because you and Hyunjin were being friendly… Were you missing something? He didn’t seem in such a peaceful state of mind when he came in… It had to be something that happened after that. Perhaps he got some good news from his secretary? Or maybe… You narrowed your eyes as you caught a glimpse of Hyunjin’s hands fidgeting in front of him; his foot tapping the ground rapidly but quietly before moving slightly to step on your toe.

     Or maybe Hyunjin had something to do with it…

    “As I said in the email, Sir, I happened to hear some stuff around and… KQ managed to get an exclusive with Han Jisung” The sentence sounded just like a normal introduction to a report, but you knew it wasn’t. Hyunjin’s eyes darted to meet yours, glinting with anxiety and despair. He was informing you of what was going on, not Chan, “And as we all know, Jisung is a rising producer star, which is bound to raise their sales and might get in the way of ours…” He continued, swallowing dryly and widening his eyes ever so slightly.

    He was definitely trying to warn you of something.

    “Yes, I read the e-mail, Hyunjin” Chan agreed sternly; smile disappearing as his fingers intertwined to serve as a support for his chin. He looked classy and incredibly sexy, but your mind couldn’t afford to focus on it right now. You had to figure out what the hell Hyunjin suggested to Chan before blowing everything up, “You also said that Y/N might have the solution for this…” Oh, so that was it, you thought when Chan arched his brow; eyes connecting to yours.

    And now what?

    “So?” He encouraged you, detaching his chin from his hands so he could rest them on his desk “I’m waiting” He smiled gently; a closed-mouth smile that was supposed to calm your nerves, even though you could see how tumultuous his gaze was right now.

    It was practically a silent threat.

    In a normal situation, the predatory way he was looking at you ─ resembling a wolf when you were nothing but a sheep under his radar ─ would get you… Thinking.

    Your job wouldn’t be at stake in a normal situation, though.

    The pressure on your toes increased; the subtle way Hyunjin found to snap you out of your mind, despite your silence hanging in there for just a few seconds. It was obvious that he was freaking out just as much as you were, and you couldn’t help but blame him for this. Couldn’t he have told you about it earlier? What the hell was going on inside his mind?! Instead of taunting you about wanting to fuck Bang Chan, he should have warned you about that shit!

    That’s not the time for this, Y/N.

    The muscles on your face tensed as you tried to not give away everything going through your mind; lips twisting in a tight smile as you looked at Hyunjin: “Yeah, he was right” You answered calmly, even though your stomach was settled on becoming an Olympic athlete right now, “As I was telling him before coming here, Sir, I have someone in mind…” The relief washed over Hyunjin’s face; a genuine smile adorning his features as he withheld a sigh, “I happen to know I.N, and I think I can get us an exclusive” You confessed, shifting your gaze from Hyunjin to Chan.

    “The writer?” He blurted out, astonishment plastered all over his face.

    “Yeah… They’re a friend of mine…” You trailed off, embarrassed to say it out loud “They’re in the top trending now since their novel will become a drama and…” You cleared your throat, lowering your head to avoid his gaze. There was just so much of acting you could handle for a day, “I mean- It’s… Adult stuff, right? But they never—”

    “I know! That’s perfect!” He beamed, getting up from his chair to walk your way “They’ve never been seen! Nobody knows anything about them, Y/N” He laughed ─ he genuinely laughed ─ while clasping his hands together “Han Jisung is good, but I.N is better! This is hot news… FrontPage… How come you never told me about that?” He chuckled, placing his hand on your shoulder “Rest assured that when I get my promotion, I’m gonna have you right here in this room” He promised you in such a serious tone that a shiver ran down your spine.

    Rule Number Four: The (kinda horny) true self!

    There was not a single soul in the office as you made your way down the hall; eyes focused on the mesmerizing view outside. The sky was colored in purple shades, so deep that you would have mistaken them for black if it weren’t for the dazzling, sleepless city and its dozens of skyscrapers lighting everything up. Not even the full moon would be able to compete with such a beautiful brilliance, but it wouldn’t be necessary either as your gaze was abruptly torn away from the night.

    The darkness surrounding you didn’t allow your brain to connect the dots immediately, and you couldn’t help but wonder what happened when you bumped into something. The surface was much softer than a wall, yet firm enough to have you wincing for the impact; eyes snapping to meet the unlucky bastard that stayed until so late. The moonlight kissed his skin just enough for you to recognize the sharp features of your boss; clenched jaw revealing popping veins that distracted you for a fraction of a second.

     Your eyes trailed the path from his jaw to his neck, and you couldn’t help but wonder how it tasted like; if you could savor it like the sins you wanted to commit with him. The closeness didn’t work in your favor, and the hint of his scent intoxicated your senses as you connected your gazes. Something must have given you off ─ maybe your hesitation, maybe the lust glinting in your eyes ─ because the next second, Cristopher had his hand placed on your lower back.

   The warm sensation grew to a burning feeling as his eyes darkened while diving into yours; his stern, cold gaze contrasting to the feeling of his touch and sending a shiver down your spine. Could he have noticed the way your legs trembled as his grip tightened around you? The look on his face was indecipherable, and the intensity of his gaze made you feel too exposed and vulnerable to keep looking for an answer, so you averted your eyes away from him.

    “Weren’t you supposed to come as soon as you got his answer?” The way his voice made its way to your senses had the embarrassment washing over you. The huskiness in his tone made you gulp down ─ throat dry from thirsting over him ─ and the calmness in his sentence alarmed you as it didn’t match the disapproval in his eyes “It’s so late that there is no one else here anymore” He added nonchalantly; mixed signals getting you confused to what he meant by it.

    Was it just a way to scold you or was it an invitation?

    “I’m sorry, Sir” Despite not having anyone around, you whispered the words as if you could be caught at any moment now, “It took me longer than expected, but we—”

    “We?” His eyes were sharp enough to cut you off but the real reason why you couldn’t manage to finish your thoughts was the way he pulled your body impossibly closer to his “Were you with him this whole time?” He hissed right into your ear, letting his hot breath fan over your cold, sensitive skin in a silent threat.

    “Working” You corrected, even though he didn’t say anything.

    “Working” He hummed in agreement; hand going to tuck your hair behind your ear “As in how we work late at night?” He sneered, manhandling you to press your back against the cold surface of the glass wall that separated his office from the rest of the place “Or is it as in how he wants to work you on his desk?” He scoffed; soft huff almost as degrading as the way he held your cheeks with one hand and guided your eyes to his.

    “Neither” You guaranteed breathlessly; voice quivering in excitement.

    “Are you going to pretend that you didn’t notice his looks?” He narrowed his eyes at you; his knee making its way to the gap between yours before slowly rising to your thighs, “That you don’t know how much he wants to fuck you?” He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “You better not, ‘cause I know you love it” He warned as he kicked your legs apart.

    “He could never fuck me as you do” There was such seriousness in your tone that it had him chuckling, and he nodded in approval before burying his nose in your neck, “I-I’m yours only, Sir… I know my place” You promised quietly, trying not to give away how aroused his jealousy made you feel.

    “Yeah…” His raspy laughter tickled your skin, and you muffled a whine as he grazed his teeth over your neck teasingly “But you like being reminded of it, don’t you?” He taunted, taking in your scent in a way that made you feel too small and helpless. He groaned as soon as you let a whimper fall from your lips, and you couldn’t help but struggle to stay still while knowing what was about to come, “Do I have to spell it for you, baby girl?” He snickered before sucking on the tender spot of your skin that he knew too well at this point.

    “N-No” Somewhere inside your head, you acknowledged that your reaction was insanely humiliating. He just needed a couple of words spoken in a sultry tone and you couldn’t even form a proper sentence. That was the power he had on you. And you loved it. “Only yours” The rushed tone made him smirk against your neck, stopping his path of kisses for a second to look into your eyes “Sir” You panted; returning his gaze with just as much intensity as he had on his.

    “Claim your place” His order was so tantalizing that you didn’t even blink before you finally let your knees give away, losing the support of your legs to earn the support of his thigh, “That’s right… You do remember your place” Somehow, this sounded like the best praise he could ever offer you, even under his amused tone, “But you have been such a bad girl lately…” He pouted as he caressed your cheek; hand stopping to grab your chin gently “And I don’t like bad girls… You know that, right?” He let his thumb reach for your lower lip, fiercely staring at it before grazing his finger on your teeth.

    Your answer was as silent as his request; tongue welcoming his thumb before you sucked on his digit. He hummed in appreciation, pushing it inside your mouth as you looked at him with big doe eyes to show a coyness that wasn’t really there within you. The action was followed by a swirl around the tip of his finger; as if to leave in his mouth the taste of what he was missing and prompt him to give you what you really wanted: Him.

    If he picked up on your plans, he showed it by giving like for like.

   He didn’t say a word as he pressed his thigh against your heat; leaning closer to let his breath fan over your neck once more. He stood like that for what could have been seconds, maybe minutes, but nonetheless time enough for his warmth to creep into your senses. He was like a poison to you; the intoxicating presence clouding your better judgment and destroying any will you had to have him losing control. You didn’t even mind the way he scoffed as you started to grind his leg; brows twisting to shout out a needy plea for release.

    “That’s a good girl” He approved, catching your earlobe between his teeth. The moan that fell from your lips was muffled by his finger and he didn’t seem to appreciate it, “I don’t hear you, baby girl” He complained, moving on to your jaw with a path of open-mouthed kisses that weren’t enough to distract you from his other hand “There’s no one here… Be loud for me” He allured you as his hand found its way under your shirt.

      The temptation was great… Scream his name as he fucked you senseless in the office... No risk of being caught… Just you, and him, and your dirty little secret…

    Your thoughts were all around the place, and you had no hopes of grasping them back as his cold hand brushed your side, contrasting to the warmth under your clothes. The way he touched you made shivers run down your spine; his slow, delicate motion enhancing your senses to every single second of his caresses. You held your breath when his finger finally managed to reach its destination; grazing over your nipple to have you succumbing to his wishes.

    You fought it as you could, but you were never much of a fighter.

    It was too easy for him to have you under his control, and he knew it. You could tell it by the way he chuckled as soon as you gave away how lost you were at this point. The moan that left your lips came all the way up from your chest, sounding crystal clear in the room as you let your mouth fall agape. Sucking on his finger and following his orders were the last concern you would have for this moment. The only thing worthy of your attention right now was the fact that you couldn’t get as much friction as you needed, and you had to do something about it.

    So you grind on his leg for dear life.

    “You’re so needy” The mockery didn’t have much effect on your mind anymore, so you just kept sliding up and down his thigh as if that was the only thing that could keep you going “You’re not even listening to me, are you?” He huffed in disbelief; thumb leaving your mouth so he could cup your face “That’s all you can understand, right?” He taunted, pinching your nipple to get your attention again, “Are you still there, baby girl?” He leaned closer to whisper in your ear.

      “F-Fuck me” Was the only answer he would get.

      “Manners” He warned; licking the sweet spot next to your jaw.

      “Fuck me, Sir” You corrected yourself; wrapping your arms around his shoulders to look for some support as you practically bounced on his leg, “Please, fuck me, Sir” You repeated, forehead resting on the crook of his neck as you clawed his back, trying to bring him as close as possible to you.

      “Louder” He demanded, and you didn’t need to look at his face to know that he was grinning, “Louder…” He instructed in a tone so low that you could barely hear him over the rustling sounds of fabric against fabric. Your breath hitched as his hand gently caressed your hair; moving some strands away from your face to take a better look at you. However, he didn’t get to see your teary eyes, “Come on, baby… Look at me” He asked in a tantalizing tone, alluring you to try and meet his gaze.

    There wasn’t much you could see through your hooded eyes; vision too blurry for you to grasp what was going on inside his mind. You could tell he enjoyed it, though. He always did. That moment when he could pinpoint you had given up on your control, that you weren’t yourself anymore and would be willing to do whatever he asked… He lived for it, for that rebellious flame of self-control extinguishing from your eyes.

    ��For who you become when lust overcomes you.        

    The grip on his hair wasn’t unexpected, and Cristopher offered you a small, wicked smile before you connected your lips. The kiss was messy and hurried; tongues exploring every corner they could find while your hands were occupied on getting rid of your clothes. Neither of you cared about anything else but feeling each other’s bodies as you ripped your shirts. The cold breeze hitting your bare skin wasn’t enough to cool down the heat consuming you, but it was enough to have you squirming and whining.

      “Beautiful” Was the only thing he said before pushing your back against the glass and adjusting his grip to take your nipple between his teeth. The groan that escaped your lips was almost animalistic, prompting him to answer with a grunt of his own as he sucked on your skin. The vibrations ran from your flesh to your core, enticing another moan that seemed to fall into deaf ears, “Louder, baby… I want him to hear you…” He pleaded, letting go of your breast just to grope it and give you a kitten lick on the next second “To know who made you like this…” He added before sucking on it again.

    Perhaps it was the fact that he thrust on you, just to tease your senses and make you thirstier. Perhaps it was the fact you had to support yourself on just one leg as he pushed his hips against yours and you tried to seek for your balance by involving his leg with yours. Perhaps it was his hand sliding to meet your clothed core; finger pressing against your clit to add a delicious, needed stimulus for your orgasm.

    Perhaps it was the words that slipped through his lips.

    “W-What did you say?” You panted; hips faltering as you tried to keep riding him, but steading their pace as his finger circled your clit to goad you “M-Mhm… S-Sir” You cried; hand burying in his hair to pull it and translate the utter bliss waving down your body. The string of mewls and urgent pleas spilled from you like a chant, getting him more eager than before, “P-Please” You whined, even though you weren’t sure what you were asking for.

      “Hold it” He ordered; straightening his back to look right into your eyes, but failing as yours rolled back to your head. His hand made its way to squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to look at him with a soft shake to catch your attention “Look at me” It sounded like a warning; stern enough for you to try your best to focus on him, “You’ll only cum when he walks right through that door… Do you understand?” He searched for any signs of stubbornness in your eyes, but his smile showed he didn’t found any.

    “W-Who?” You managed to ask; body trembling as you tried to hold every single string inside your mind in place, even though each one of them was ready to snap and unravel the crashing pleasure that was building up.

    “Why does it matter?” He scoffed, quickening his pace as the unmistakable ring of the elevator sounded on the room “You love being seen, don’t you?” He chuckled, watching as your body shook violently and your knees started to give away to the sensations running down your body.

      “Y-Yes, Sir” You could bet your voice echoed inside the building, and Christopher seemed to agree with you as he grinned in approval.

    “So look at your guest, baby… And scream my name” He instructed, pushing your face to the side. The doors opened slowly, revealing the lights inside the small cubicle right in front of your eyes “Let him know who you belong to” He whispered in your ear; hand pushing your underwear aside so his finger could come in contact with your core.

    The mysterious figure detached from the corners of the metallic walls to finally reveal himself. You met his eyes for a half of a second; enough time for you to recognize the one who worked with you every single day of your life. For the past few years. Someone who would be your partner for years to come, and who would witness and engrave your face in your most vulnerable moment.

    You came hard; probably the most overwhelming orgasm you had ever had in your life. It was impossible to hold back your voice, and you couldn’t help but howl his name; legs shaking and body collapsing into your boss’ arms. You squirmed and whimpered as you tried to recompose yourself; letting him help you ride you out of your orgasm and occupying yourself by staring into your coworker’s shocked eyes.

    “Thank you, Sir…” You breathed out, gripping his arms for dear life while the shame sank into your soul.

    Rule Number Five: The (grateful and satisfied) fans!

    And… Post.

    Oh, well… You did it. Again. There was something about displaying your deepest fantasies for anyone to see that was kinda thrilling to you. Your heart raced inside your chest just like a drum ─ well, if a goddamn drummer decided to do a solo but was too offbeat, to begin with ─ and you couldn’t help but stare blankly at the page without a clue of what to do now. It was out there… Why didn’t anyone say anything yet? Was it that bad? Should you delete it?

    Well… People have to read it before commenting, you know?

    Yeah, right… You just posted it.

    Chill.

    You licked your lips before biting them; feeling the rush that was posting about your boss online when no one else knew about it. If you were being honest, the best part of this wasn’t having the chance to live your fantasies throughout your writing. No. The best part was knowing that only you knew the true identity of Christopher… Or what you really wanted to do to him while he walked down the hallway. The best part was that no one would ever figure out that you were the author of the bestselling novel of the moment… That this steamy romance between boss and employee was nothing but your rawest desire.

     Who would think that the boring, shy girl from the office would be a smut writer? Who would think that you would have a horny, interesting secret identity? No one else but you.

      And this was priceless.

     Or maybe… It was priceless.

    As far as you knew, every single thing you cherished about being a secretive horny bitch could go down the drain tomorrow. It would be all fine if it was just a… Well, actually everything would suck. How would you look at Chan’s face if he knew you were writing about having sex with your boss while he was your boss? What would you do if they decided to fire you because of it? What would you do with your life from now on?!

     Don’t panic, Y/N.

    You had everything under control… Tomorrow morning you would be going to Jeongin’s house and interview him as if he were you. No one would ever suspect you after that. You would save your ass, Hyunjin’s ass, and Chan’s ass. And that was it. The perfect plan. Nothing to worry about. Just trust Jeongin to follow your script and make sure everything would go as planned.

    Flawless. Totally safe. Perfect.

    That’s right…

    You just need to take a deep breath and rela—

    The sudden sound caught you off guard; eyes focusing on the screen once again so you could understand what was going on. All of your worries vanished away as soon as you saw the notification on the top of it; announcing that you had just got a message from a fan.

     Finally!    

    The weasel icon was so familiar that you chuckled while opening the message; a smile plastering over your face as you let your eyes wander around the words. There was nothing more fulfilling to your writer ass than seeing the way Weasel always had something to say about your story. Sometimes, he’d give you some feedback on your style. Other times, he’d freak out about how much he wanted to “try those things out”, as he usually said. There were also times when he’d just get excited over the characters and their conflicts, which always got you laughing.

    It was fun to talk to Weasel.

    He was just as mysterious as you… There was no name to his face, and also no face to his icon, but both of you were friends anyway. He had been keeping up with your stuff from such an early stage that it felt natural to have him around and getting his feedback. It was so comfortable, that you didn’t even mind when he slid in your DMs, embarrassed to let anyone else know that your smut made him… Feel things. There was no need to elaborate on what he did about those feelings or those things. But it was kinda hot to know he enjoyed himself throughout your fantasies.

      His fantasies.

    Well… For the number of times that you used them to write your stories, it was some sort of shared fantasies by now. As a matter of fact, you never intended to make Christopher a jealous character but Weasel made the idea seem too hot for you to ignore. Sometimes, he’d open up about that girl from his work that he really liked and how jealous he was of the guy she liked and then… Well, it felt… Interesting.

    The thought of being desirable to the point a guy would want to claim you as his like this? Not that Weasel did it. He actually just mentioned that he hoped she was into this as a kink. You couldn’t help but picture the way he would touch her in such a greedy way… The possessiveness blinding him for a second… The grip tightening… The mean words and the humiliation… Oh, the sweet humiliation that would crush you as he whispered how much you would cum for him… How he was the only one who could make you like that… How he would ask you to say his name… To tell him that you were his…

    You could drink holy water and still be shaking just by picturing it.

    “That was such a good chapter… I didn’t expect you to use her friend like that. I thought it was a given that she’d end up with Chris” You read out loud, chuckling when he reached for your DMs to talk to you “Will we get a threesome or something, miss? 😏” He joked on the next line and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at this “I’m waiting for it”

    “You’re just a horny bitch, aren’t you?” You typed, smirking as you stared at his messages “No spoilers for you, though, baby boy… You’ll have to wait like everybody else” Teasing him was always funny, and he never failed to amuse you.

      “I’m not the one writing porn online” He pointed out, and before he could write anything else you shot him.

    “Yeah but you’re the one getting off to it” You retorted, getting a whole set of gasping and shocked emotes that had you laughing.

    “I have no words to express how offended I am” You chortled, shaking your head in disbelief.

     “Alright, Drama Llama” Why was it so fun to mock him? You wished you could actually meet him offline and banter like this in real life “To fill your horny ass, I might write a dom!reader next time… I was thinking about torturing the 2nd lead a bit”

    “First of all… I don’t think I want my ass filled, thank you for offering tho” Why was he like this? “And I was just joking” You frowned at that, confused by what he meant “Don’t you think that a threesome doesn’t go along with the characters? Her friend likes her a lot and Christopher is just a kinky son of a bitch… I thought he’d just show him that she was his and be an ass as usual”

    “What do you have against Chris, dude?” You rolled your eyes, although he wouldn’t be able to see it, “He’s way better than her friend! At least, he does something about her”

    “I have the 2nd male lead syndrome! You know that!” You chortled, very aware of this, “And isn’t that the perfect opportunity for him to do something about it?! I mean… I don’t want to be nosey but having a threesome is way out of character for them” He pointed out, and you had to admit he was right.

    “No, you’re not nosey…” You sighed; shoulders dropping for a second “It’s just that I’m upset about something that happened at work today and you know that projecting my problems on those characters is my thing” You pursed your lips, staring at the keyboard for a few seconds before deciding to continue “Besides, I’m about to spend an entire day with a guy that kinda inspired the 2nd lead and… I don’t really want to think about a sex scene with him, you know?” You confessed.

    “But thinking about torturing and having a threesome with him is easy” He mocked you.

      “That’s because that threesome would never happen” You sent it before you could think about what you had just written.

    “Ooohhhh!” Holy shit… The amount of emotes he had just dumped on that chat couldn’t be a good sign, “So having sex with this guy is something you want?! And that could happen?! ” Great, now you would have a Drama Llama-Weasel trying to get some juicy gossip about your inexistent sex life… WORSE! Your sex life with your nemesis! “Why don’t you go for it? I’m sure he’s into you if he’s anything like his character” Poor thing… He had no idea.

    “Shut up, it’s not like that” You brushed it off.

    “If you say so” You could almost hear him snickering, even though you didn’t know how his voice sounded like “I’ll just have you regretting this for the rest of the night” You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief. He was unbearable! “I have work early tomorrow but I’m gonna come back with questions, Miss… Wait for me”

    “What I meant is that it’d be easier to happen than having a threesome, not that I want it to happen, moron” You defended yourself but he didn’t even get to read it as he logged off right away.

      Great… He would never let you live it down.

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Rebloggable Masterlist    //   Main Masterlist   //   Tag List

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[taeescript]

29 + 1 (Part Two)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (squint harder than before for taehyung x reader) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin; a dash of enemies to lovers au 

𝔴𝔠: 7.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: language; a plethora of drunk people, maybe a sext, and a ton of lying (possible implication of impending smut?!) 

𝔞/𝔫: this part came out longer than i thought it would be but *shrugs* feedback and thoughts always welcomed. enjoy (:  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: DailyHive is real; this is not associated with it 

part one || part three 

The bright pop music that is blaring from the speakers does little to slow your animated talking. Bodies are packed into the small local bar, and students on summer break fill booths and form a snake of impatient, drunk (and horny) people. A slow trickle of the brazen has started to fill the dance floor as the evening morphs into the night.

  You whip your hair into a ponytail and dab at the sweat that is beading your forehead. You definitely should have worn that sleeveless top rather than this thicker t-shirt dress.

  “So, is he like your sugar daddy or something?” Taehyung asks, “Also drink.”

  Friday nights were usually spent at home, snuggled under the blankets in your pjs binging another rewatch of Friends. After work today, you could no longer hold onto your secret and invited Taehyung out for drinks. His girlfriend, Fei, was supposed to join but had been held back for overtime.

  You tip the shot back with no chase.

  “You’re a monster,” he comments as he bites into his lemon piece.

  The two of you had made a bet at the beginning of the evening: you each chose a pop song and each time it played, the nominee had to take a shot. That was your fourth of the night, and to say there was a bit of a buzz is an understatement.

  “It’s all throat technique, Tae,” you say with a bit of a slur, “Hit the back and swallow. No innuendo intended. Also, why the hell haven’t you had any to drink?”

  “You picked ‘Peaches’ for fuck’s sake.”

  “I told you I don’t listen to pop music. It was the first one playing.”

  “And shouldn’t that have told you something? Justin Bieber of all people?”

  “Shut up. It’s your song.” You nod at the pink-faced barista for another round. She slaps your order in front of the two of you without so much a glance.

You don’t even know what song is playing, but you feel quite satisfied watching Taehyung make a face as he downs it in one go.

  He clears his throat after the liquor has burned its way down to his stomach. “Back to my question: is he your sugar daddy?”

  You bark out a laugh. Was he? Perhaps the fact that he paid for fancy meals at lunch? Those have been his one o’clock meetings for the past two months.

  “I don’t know. I’d rather he buy me a car or pay my rent if anything. A casual 1k a week wouldn’t be so bad either. We just sit in his office and eat in secret, Tae. He’s ‘training me in the art of culinary cuisine’. I think it’s just so I don’t embarrass him by stuffing a shrimp cocktail up my nose.”

  “You do know – ”

“Yes, I know. And I would never. It’s a metaphor. It’s just that the position ‘intern’ is quite loosely defined at DailyHive, don’t you think?”

  Taehyung rinses his mouth with water before speaking. “So let me get this right. Mr. Kim calls you into his office, says he’s going to take you as his guest to the biggest tech event of the year, treats you to lunches and doesn’t ask for anything in return? No secret midnight meetups or shady business deals…”

  You shake your head.

  “Damn,” Taehyung says, resting his arm on the bar table, “Forget sugar daddy. He’s just daddy.”

  Sticking your tongue out, you gag visibly at his comment. “Do not ever call him that again, Tae; ev-er.”

  He laughs and watches you pensively. After a moment’s thought, he says, “Nobody has ever called me Tae.”

  “What do they call you then?” you reply, wrinkling your brows together. A cute brunette across the room catches your eyes and for the briefest of seconds, you wonder what a one-night-stand would feel like.

  He shrugs. “Just Taehyung.”

  The brunette waves in your direction. You are about to return his wave when an equally cute brunette runs up to him. He promptly kisses her before swivelling her around to join his group of friends.

  “Sorry. Do you want me to stop? I just assumed since we were out of the office…”

Oh Fate, how cruel you are. Life of twenty cats and solidarity, here you come. Maybe dogs. You feel like you could be more of a dog person.

  “No,” he stops you, “You can call me Tae. Whatever you want.”

  You turn your attention back on the also cute brunette in front of you. In all honestly, despite his youthful god-like countenance, he looks slightly out of place at this college bar with you in his upstanding business attire and dorkishly adorable thick-framed glasses.

  “Sure. How about Tee-Tee? Or Hyungie? The TaeMan?” You wiggle your brows with the suggestion.

  “God help me.”

  The two of you clink your shot glasses together even though neither of your songs are being played.

  His Apple watch lights up to indicate an incoming message. He relays the text to you, “Fei’s done work. She’s on her way now.” You can’t help but notice a shift in his previously excited demeanor.

  You nudge him with your elbow. “Aren’t you excited? She’ll need a glass of wine or two to destress after work. I might be projecting onto you for this part, but you’re buzzed. So after we get her to unwind I’m sure the overwhelming power of pheromones will get you lucky tonight.” You wink at him to emphasize your point.  

“She’s not a big drinker. She’s probably just going to come and ask to leave in five minutes. Bars like this aren’t really her thing either,” he states. He then unbuckles his watch and tucks it away into the pocket of his pants. Undoing the cuffs of his shirt, he rolls up the sleeves and continues to regard you solemnly. “Okay, next round is one me. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to switch songs?”

  You notice how nice, long, and slender his fingers are. Plus the thing of girls liking when men have visible veins on their forearm? That had never really caught your attention until now.

  “She’s a bit of a bitch,” you say and immediately regret, “Shit, sorry. That just slipped out. Alcohol.”

  He offers you his water to drink.

  “I mean, she’s a little…uptight at times? But people can be completely different in and out of work. I can only imagine how stressful it is in her position. Working overtime until 9pm on a Saturday night seriously sucks,” you say to try and mend your wrongdoing.

  “Fei in the office is basically Fei at home,” he says softly, “It’s always work with her.”

  “We support career-driven women, yeah?” A smile is offered from you to him.

  He finally lets out a small one and nods. Out of the blue, he reaches over and covers your hand with his. Staring intently into your eyes, he says, “I know she makes you do her reports and occupies your time to do her coffee runs as well. You can say no to her. She may be my girlfriend, but you’re technically my intern, and I will stand on your side no matter what.”

  “Um, okay. Thanks, Tae,” you say. His sincerity has caught you off guard.

  At that moment, the sound of clicking heels pierce its way into your eardrums through the noise of the even busier bar. Taehyung quickly retracts his hand.

  Fei arrives, not a hair out of place in her tightly pulled bun. Her lips are painted a striking red against the paleness of her skin, and her manicured nails dig into the forearm of Taehyung when she reaches them. Even though she is wearing an otherwise drab office business suit, the curvature of her body draws quite a few glances from the younger men in the crowd.

  “It’s like a zoo here,” she sneers, turning away from a sacrificial lamb who had been bold enough step out of his circle of friends to greet her with a sleezy “hey”.

  “Hi, Fei. Busy night?” you greet her first.

  She gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Yes. I don’t know why you weren’t there. Isn’t it the intern’s job to complete reports?”

  Again, a loosely defined use of “intern” at DailyHive.

  You return her smile with a crisp one of your own.

  She turns away from you and regards Taehyung, who looks as if he had been the sacrificial lamb instead. “Teddybear, let’s go home. You know this type of place isn’t my vibe. I’m getting a headache already.”

  You raise an eyebrow at his pet name.

  He turns a little bit pinker, if that is possible under the current alcohol-induced glow of his cheeks, and says, “Um, sure. Y/N, are you going to be okay getting home?”

  Waving him off, you show him your phone. “30% left. I’ve got pepper spray in my bag and enough booze in me to not run from a fight. I’ll call an Uber home soon, don’t worry.”

  Fei has already begun to fight her way through the squirming, dancing bodies. Taehyung glances quickly at her and turns back to you once last time. “Text me that you’re home safe.”

  “Will do, boss,” you smile at him warmly.

  He lingers for just a moment more before running after his impatiently waiting girlfriend.

  You turn back to the bar and order another beer for yourself. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is perhaps the biggest perk of being single.

...

On the opposite side of town, sinking deeply into a soft lounge chair is Seokjin enjoying a rare evening out with his best friend. He has swapped his usual attire for a more relaxed fit of a white oversized crewneck and techwear bottoms. A heavy, exorbitant fur-lined long leather coat hangs on the coat rack beside the door to their private VVIP room. He swirls his glass of Chateau Lafite before sipping delicately.

  Outside, only a handful of patrons sit quietly engrossed in their own conversations. It is a relatively empty night at the high-end lounge. A lady sings sultrily on stage with the smooth background of a saxophone as accompaniment.

  Junho has poured himself another glass while he is talking to Seokjin. Seokjin had since slightly tuned out his friend’s rather elongated rendition of another celebrity sighting to occupy his mind with another individual.

  “Earth to Jin? When did you get so lightweight since I’ve been gone?” Junho waves a hand in front of Seokjin’s nose.

  Seokjin blinks to refocus.

  “The mansion I bought last year or the one I bought last month?” he reiterates. Sensing that Seokjin truly had no idea what the topic at hand had been, he tries again.

  “Where should I do my birthday party this year, man? I thought the mansion from last year since it’s closer to the city, but I feel like it’s been reused too many times. It’s not completely furnished yet, but the property I got last month is significantly bigger and I can probably host more people.”

  “The new place then,” Seokjin answers half-heartedly.

  Junho grumbles something intelligible.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing,” Junho sighs, “Tell me what’s new with you. How’s that little project of yours going? I still can’t believe you won’t let me know who you’re planning to take to the Gala.”

  Seokjin had refused to release even the slightest detail about you to Junho. Letting him know that Seokjin had agreed to one of his plans would be enough to inflate Junho’s ego for at least a little while.

  “It’s been going...”

  Junho waits for more of Seokjin’s answer, but his friend’s attention has been turned to a received text.

  10:17pm “Safe and sound, Teddy Bear.”

  10:17pm “Or should I say Taeddybear? 🥴”

10:18pm “That last beer done me rael godo.”

  10:18pm “Real good**”

  Seokjin raises a brow at the unknown number. He responds back.

  10:18pm “Who is this? I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

  Junho crosses his legs and sits back with a sigh. He presses the button to request for an attendant.

  10:19pm “You know who… Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for saying you’ve got my back. It’s definitely appreciated.”

  The response doesn’t do much except to further pique Seokjin’s curiosity.

  “Sorry,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket, “Rogue text I think.”

  Junho shrugs. “Is that right? Seems to have caught your attention.” There is now a manner of indifference to his voice.

  “It’s going well, by the way – answering your question. I mean, all things considered. It’s not like I have to teach her how not to stuff a cocktail shrimp up your nose.”

  His friend snorts. “I’d be concerned and against this person if it’s who you’re planning to bring.”

  Seokjin’s phone buzzes again.

  10:21pm “Pray for me when I wake up with the worst hangover of my life. I’m going to bed now.”

  A moment of silence.

  10:21pm “I hope I didn’t piss off Fei tonight for stealing you for the evening.”

  10:22pm “Okay I’ll shut up now. Please don’t tell me you’re reading this. You should be getting some 😼💦.”

  The emoji makes Seokjin choke, liquid sputtering from his lips.

  Junho cusses. He angrily dabs at the speckle of red wine that has landed on his pearly white top.

  10:23pm Download attached image. “Just in case, here’s a little something to get the night started 😉”

  “What the hell man?” Junho gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. Luckily, the previously called attendant had arrived in time to escort him.

Seokjin barely notices that he is alone in room as he taps the download button. It isn’t until he has returned home and is looking at the picture one last time before bed that he realizes who his mysterious texter is.

  The employee nametag clipped to the collar of your workday shirt hanging on the arm of a chair can only be found when zoomed in past your painted toes and naked feet.

... 

You cannot hide your nervousness when you arrive at your “lunch meeting” the following Monday morning. All weekend, you had cursed yourself for not better checking who the recipient of your texts were before pressing send. Never had you thought that in your drunken stupor you would mix up “The Devil” in your contact list with “Taehyung Kim.” Curse you and your lack of friends beginning with the letter “T”.

  You balk before, a hand poised in perfect position for a knock. Maybe he didn’t download it? And even if he did, it was just a troll feet pic. You had made sure that it was as pg-13 as possible before you had sent it.

  “Hi,” you greet sheepishly when he has given you the go to enter.

  In a smart plain blue button-up and round frames that are almost certainly for the aesthetics, the CEO of the company and your boss sizes you up and down.

  “I know we’ve gotten to know each other better these past few weeks. But you’d think it’s still common courtesy to at least make eye contact,” he says. You look at him wide eyed without a word.

  He rolls his eyes but does not gesture to your usual seat. In fact, you don’t spy a take-out container in sight. He instead stands up and picks up his phone, walking to the door. He notices you have yet to move.

  “Let’s get moving. You’ve only got a 45 minute lunch.”

  You scramble to match his speed and catch Taehyung’s eye as you grab your jacket at your desk. Taehyung’s gaze follows you as you hurry to leave in pursuit of Seokjin’s coattail.

... 

The restaurant is a popular vegan establishment with a plethora of greenery crawling up its high ceilings and a window-framed overview of the city’s skyline. Waiters and waitresses who may just as well be walking New York Fashion Week serve you brunch mimosas on a golden plate; they attentively wait to the side in case you ever run out of water.

  Common topics are rare between the two of you. Initially, you respectfully kept quiet and only answered questions when asked, but you have never been one for awkward silence. Yes, it’s awkward only if you make it awkward; there is just no denying the hanging suspense that curls your toes each time. Recently, you have started with simple inquiries regarding the company, who they might meet at the Gala and everyday mundane topics.

  “You’re probably wondering why we’re out of the office,” Seokjin says. He continues shortly after taking a bite of his meal and ignores the look of your surprise at his initiation of a conversation. “My office has been getting stuffy with the warmer weather so I thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. How’s the food?”

You nod, making small sounds of contentment as you chew on the Avocado Lime Tartare. Mmm… tart-y.

  He takes a deep breath in, stalling the incoming conversation. “It’s my friend’s birthday this next weekend.”

  “Oh,” you say, “Happy early birthday to him.”

  “He’s my best friend.”

  “Well… An extra happy early birthday to him.”

  A sigh. “Are you free next weekend?”

  Your chewing comes to a halt and you blink once at his question. Next weekend is the weekend before the Silver Gala. It is also the sole weekend before your birthday the following Friday after the Gala. You had hoped to spend it with Taehyung and maybe even Jimin who had promised to be in town on a long overdue vacation despite your chastising to visit your parents first.

  He senses your trepidation. Quickly, he explains himself, 

“He’s having a birthday party Saturday night. He has a place about an hour north of here. I can have somebody pick you up if that’s more convenient. I don’t have a birthday present for him and thought it’d be nice for you to meet him.”

  “You’re giving him me for a present?” you ask, incredulously.

  He bites his tongue. He never anticipated how awkward this conversation could go.

  “You’re going as my plus one. He really wants to meet you; in fact, he insisted that you be there. He’ll be at the gala too. I have something else planned for his birthday present,” he adds hastily, “Besides, you’re less than qualified as a present.”

  Musing silently to yourself, you wonder if in any situation should a human be qualified as a present. Despite that, you hate yourself as you agree on the spot.

  The rest of the lunch passes by quickly in dull silence. As Seokjin pays for the meal on the company card (and hands you the receipt for reimbursement), you note that there has been no comment made on any strange photos texted to him over the weekend.

  Perhaps being nonchalantly implied as a human birthday gift to a stranger is your karma for sending weird texts to your boss.

  Seokjin stays inside the car as he drops you off at the office after lunch, already preparing for his next business meeting. You nod your goodbye and step onto the pavement through the courteously held open door of the limousine.

“Y/N, try a soft pink. Fuchsia is not your colour,” he tells you as the door is closed.  

He then leaves you standing in front of the large office doors, staring at your chipped, week-old purple toenails.

... 

“I’m not exactly expecting a package in the mail or a dress laid out on the hotel bed – ”

“You guys are staying at a hotel?” Taehyung says over the phone.

  You are standing in your bedroom, an hour before when Seokjin is supposed to pick you up as an offering to his best friend. There are two dresses laid out on your Hello Kitty bed covers: a simple black dress you had worn once when you were a little bit more in shape and your prom dress.

  “No, I’m at home. But I mean, let me play into this movie metaphor.”

  “You suck at metaphors.”

  You have your phone propped up on some pillows so that you can see Taehyung as you debate your fashion decision. He is in a relaxed white tee, hair messily framing his face after a shower and a bowl of popcorn in his hands. You watch as a droplet of water runs down his face from his still-wet hair. He nonchalantly licks it off from the side of his mouth.

  “As I was saying, it wouldn’t hurt to get me something. He made it seem like it was a big deal. Like doesn’t the male lead usually surprise the female lead with a big bouquet of flowers and this over-the-top expensive dress which she wears and makes the male lead fall head over heels in love with her?”

  He chews silently on a kernel then probes, “You want Mr. Kim to fall in love with you?”

  “No,” you hastily correct, “It’s a metaphor. I think you’re the one who sucks at metaphors.”

  There is a beep on your phone to indicate you have another incoming call.

  “Tae, I’m going to have to call you back. My brother’s calling me,” you tell him. The black dress; your old prom dress is way too early 2000s. Black never hurts.

  “Okay. Have fun tonight. Pretend that it’s your birthday party. And then I’ll meet you for brunch tomorrow, my treat? You can tell me all about it,” he says. “Also the black. You look cute in that one.”

  “My party if I was 30, rich and successful. Oh wait, I’ll have one thing in common soon; that’s a start. Thanks though. I’ll call you tomorrow morning once I get up,” you say, then switch the call over to your brother. You had missed the flush of his cheeks as you busily swipe your phone.

Sticking the prom dress back into your closet, you rummage around the meager display of shoeboxes for a pair of high heels.

  “Hey, Jimin,” you greet over the phone.

  “Jesus, I do not need to be accosted by my half-naked sister,” he yells over the phone.

  You turn rapidly, seeing that you had accidentally continued a video call from when you had hung up on Taehyung. You throw a pillow over the camera in your haste to cover yourself up.

  “I was going to ask why you’re dressed like that but on second thought, I think I’ll leave your sexual exploits as your own secret.”

  Despite how disturbed you feel about this comment, his cheerful voice makes you smile.

  “So little sis, the weekend before the big three-oh!”

  “Please stop reminding me.”

  “Where do you want to meet tonight? I just got off the plane, but I can be ready to meet in about an hour. I booked a hotel close to the airport.”

  Shit. You forgot to tell Jimin. These heels will have to do.

  “Um… I, uh…”

  “What?”

  You clear your throat and begin to undress in front of the mirror. You have a sudden conscious thought that the dusty treadmill in your living room seems to be staring daggers at your back. 

  “I’ve got plans tonight.”

  “Plans? I wasn’t even aware you had friends here.”

  “Ouch, Jimin. But yes, I have friends. In fact, I am meeting a friend for brunch tomorrow if you want to join. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

  “He?” Jimin repeats, “Should I put on my big brother boxing gloves? Give him a good talking to in case he’s interested in my baby sister?” Pause. “Was that who you were calling before?”  

You bite your answer back, not feeling the need to go down that rabbit hole.

  “He’s just a friend; A co-worker really,” you say, “He’s also unavailable. And before you suggest anything, his goalkeeper is technically one of my bosses so I do not want to try and shoot past her thank you very much.”

  Jimin laughs. “I wasn’t going to suggest anything. Well if you’re busy tonight, tomorrow morning works for me. Give me a call. I’ll spend the night in watching some good ol’ Netflix and enjoy this vacation time.”

  “Sorry again,” you apologize.

  “Go out and have fun,” he says, “You deserve it.”

  The two of you finish off the call with the usual goodbyes. You have forty-five minutes to dress the part of a sparkly birthday surprise for the co-founder of the company you work for. Throwing on your favourite throwback music, you get to work.

  Once satisfied, you snap a picture and sending it to Taehyung making special care that you have picked the right individual this time.

... 

The mansion is bigger than you could have ever imagined, and the amount of people present are…

  “You’re telling me I can do whatever I want tonight,” you ask Seokjin in the car.

  There is no denying that Seokjin knows how to dress for an event. In a velvety black and white suit, contrasted by his blonde hair which he has elected to temporarily dye for the evening, he looks very much the posh CEO magazines brand him out to be. You are glad you elected for the simple black dress as standing beside this Renaissance statue in a floral pastel yellow dress would be like planting dandelions in Kanye’s sculpture garden (if he ever wanted one).

  “The majority of people won’t recognize you after tonight. They’ll also be too drunk to even register anything you tell them,” Seokjin says.

  He cannot believe that you chose a simple black dress. Did you really not own anything remotely feminine besides the most generic clubbing outfit? Even if you had wanted to make an appearance as a hooker, at least make it an expensive-looking one. Maybe he should have bought you that Versace dress he spotted in the window the other day. Instead…

  “Take this. Your earrings are too gaudy for this event.”

  You touch the sparkly black cats you have put into your ears. Their eyes are made of crystal, and you thought it looked quite fetching in the light. Opening up the box, you see a dainty elegant pair of teardrop earrings that may or may not be of real diamonds.

  “Only Junho will know who you really are and then you can enjoy the rest of your night. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being held here against your will.”

  Putting them on, you note that even this simple change in attire has elevated the entirety of your presence. You felt as luxurious as this gift.

  “Thanks, Seokjin,” you try the first name basis he had insisted upon for this evening, “Not going to lie, I had imagined that maybe you’d send me a dress in the mail or something, but this is still very nice.”

  He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Like in the movies? Please, I run a start-up company. I’m not a millionaire and I don’t think you would appreciate my handouts.”

  You don’t respond, making your second note of the night on the Prada label on the cuff of his suit. “To clarify, I don’t introduce myself as your plus-one tonight.”

  “No. I don’t want you associated with me,” he curtly states. He watches as your smirk twitches and he hits himself mentally in the head again. “It’s to protect you. There are bound to be tons of paparazzi tonight at a party as big as this. I don’t want you to find yourself in the tabloids tomorrow morning. Just be smart.”

  The car pulls to a stop after inching its way up to the front door. People mill about outside in extravagant brands, holding glasses of champagne. The man of the hour is somewhere inside the building, charming his way into new business deals as well as making new friends.

  “Stay close to me. You can leave after we meet Junho. It is his birthday after all,” Seokjin offers a hand as you step out of the car.

  You take it, looping yourself into him so that your hand rests on his forearm. You are only 13 days younger than Junho, and yet this striking contrast in lifestyle hits you like a landslide while the two of you walk up the stairs and into the mansion.

  Inside, it is dim with disco lights flashing to the beat of amped party music. Upon entrance, the two of you are offered glasses of liquor (you take a swirling iridescent drink) to which you are then ushered to where the birthday boy lounges.

  Junho has an even more youthful face than Seokjin does. Where Seokjin’s features exude class and charm, Junho appears mischievous and looks to have stepped out of every girl’s bad boy dream.

  You stop Seokjin with a tug and make him look at you. “Tell me: do I look like a passable birthday offering?”

  Seokjin rolls his eyes and pulls you along with him.

  “Jin!” Junho hollers loudly across the room when spotting his oldest friend. There is a doll-like female magnetized to his side. “This is Clara, my date for the evening.”

  Seokjin shakes her hand and greets them. The female cannot seem to pry her eyes away from this handsome new stranger. He introduces himself chivalrously to her as Junho sides up to you and grips your hands in his. His breath smells strongly of mixed drinks, and you know that in about fifteen minutes the entire night will be a blur for him.

  “You must be Y/N!” he says excitedly, “Jin didn’t tell me that you were coming! What a surprise!”

  “I am,” you greet back with a large smile. “Although I’m also surprised. Seokjin told me that you had insisted I came.”

  Seokjin grits his teeth, annoyed at Junho. Would he ever learn when to keep his big mouth closed?

Laughing loudly, Junho grabs two drinks just as a waiter passes by and hands them to you. “Insist might be a strong word,” he says, drilling another hole unknowingly, “I honestly thought I’d have to play part-time wingman tonight. But I’m glad he’s got someone by his side.” He jabs you a little too hard in the ribs. “Next week’s gala is going to be fun! Okay, now there’s only one rule tonight: there are no rules!”

  The four of you clink your glasses together, while you do your best to hide an embarrassed smile on behalf of the birthday boy.

  “You bet I’m going around as your trophy wife tonight,” you whisper in Seokjin’s ear when Junho looks away.

  He whirls around to look at you, the tip of both your noses impossibly close together. He can taste the acidity of the wine when you breath out with a wicked smile. He barely has time to stop you as you peel yourself away to mingle with the crowds.

  Seokjin is about to follow you but Junho pulls him away, flamboyantly introducing his handsome best friend to a group of international models. He turns on his brightest smile, but his heart thunders in his chest at you calling yourself his wife.

... 

You twirl around in your dress, nobody noticing the small splash of champagne on the front of it in the quickly changing lights.

  “He bought this for me last week. Says it reminds him of the first night we met. Our eyes met across the waters in Tuscany where he was on a business trip. I’ll let you on a little secret, but I was his mistress for a little while.”

  Seokjin cannot make out the words you are saying to a small but growing group of people around you. He stands across from Junho, but looks over the latter’s shoulders to watch as you do another spin.

  “A little while, Charlotte? Are you still his mistress?” an older lady with an exuberant amount of jewels hanging off her body whispers with a keen interest in your expertly spun story.

  Charlotte Dior Laurent, an identity you are pretty sure is an amalgamation of French brands from the top of your mind. You continue to personify this character however.

“Don’t worry. He’s left her since. I know I know, my friends all say the same. ‘He’s already been divorced three times. How can you be sure he won’t leave you?’”

  At this point, you are in way over your head at having told this story to at least two other groups and a multitude of other renditions to whomever you have met tonight. But there is something powerful about liquid courage as it courses through your body.

  The lady lays a hand on your arm. “I don’t want your heart to break. You are still young.”

  Looking up between the heads of your audience, you catch Seokjin’s eyes. They are fiery and it sends a strange sensation up your toes to your abdomen. You give a titillating wave at him in which he does not return.

“He says I’m special and different. How can you say no to that?” you exclaim with exasperation, fully committing to the poor damsel just oh-so in love.

  There is a look of genuine concern on the lady’s face at your statement.

  Before you can dig yourself a deeper hole, you place your empty glass on the table and excuse yourself. You do not know if it’s the drinking on a relatively empty stomach or if the room is really much warmer due to the multitude of bodies, but you head out to the balcony.

  On your way out, you notice that the clock reads twenty minutes past midnight. This gives you a shock at how fast time has passed. Perhaps you should go find Seokjin if you are to get a decent amount of sleep before meeting with Taehyung and Jimin tomorrow. Speaking of Taehyung…

  You pull out your phone and see that there are two unread messages. The first is from Jimin, confirming that he is indeed invited to brunch tomorrow morning. The second is a response from Taehyung.

  11:09pm “Wow. You have me a little lost for words. I had imagined you’d look nice in the dress but… You really are beautiful.”

  Smiling, you type in your response.

  12:21am “Thanks, Tae. You’re up late.” You take a picture of the earrings Seokjin had gifted you and attach it to the message. “What do you think of these?”

Barely have you returned your phone into your bag when it buzzes again. This time you receive an attached image. Taehyung seems to be sitting in front of a monitor, as his face glows with a blue light and contorted into a pensive furrow of his brows.

  12:21am “A little different from your usual style. Are they new? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”

  12:21am “Fei’s out with some friends tonight. She likes when I wait for her to come back before I sleep. To make sure she’s safe, I guess.”

  12:22am “Pooey. I should’ve brought you as my plus-one 😩. Also, Seokjin bought them for me for tonight. He says my other earrings are too gaudy.”

  12:24am “First name basis 🙃”

  12:25am “How is your night going? Having fun?”

  You are about give Taehyung a call for a detailed recounting of tonight’s escapades when someone speaks out from within the shadows.

  “A penny for your thoughts?” He walks into the moonlight. You flush, meeting the eyes of this particularly dashing gentleman, the phonecall immediately forgotten.

  Oh, Alcohol, you make even the smartest of people do dumb shit. And right now, your effects are even worse on this idiot.

  Your mouth hangs slightly open as you watch him puff out smoke from his cigar and offer it to you. He brushes up beside you, his fingers trailing up your hand which grips the balcony. You cannot seem to break away from his gaze.

  “Lung cancer has an increasing incidence rate particularly for females due to smoking. Are you sure you want to be condoning this type of behaviour?” Seokjin interjects himself between you and your Tuxedo Mask, pushing the outstretched cigar back towards its owner.

  There is a small stare down amongst the two men before the latter quietly exits the stage. Your eyes continue to linger on him even as he walks towards another female alone in the night enjoying the outdoor breeze.

  “You’ve just ruined by chance. I could have seduced then blackmailed him with the story of his illegitimate child to play Black Widow,” you whine.

  Seokjin takes the glass that had somehow magically appeared in your hand during the short walk from inside to outside on the balcony.

  “How many have you had since we came?” he asks.

  You sigh wistfully, still in your dangerous daydream. “I don’t know. I’ve lost count.” You turn your attention back to him eventually. “What are you doing here? Did you see me with him and get all jealous, hubby?” you tease.

  He scoffs, drinking from your glass and pulling a face. Once again, there is that twist and jump within his chest, but he attributes it to whatever nasty concoction he had just ingested. He pours its contents over the railing and into whatever shrubbery lies below. “You seriously went with being my trophy wife?”

  You shrug. “Of sorts. You’d better be right about people being too drunk slash not caring about me enough after tonight to remember the things I’ve said. ‘Cuz you’ve been divorced three times, had me along with another as your mistress, I think you’ve sired a few illegitimate children and all in all, a Games of Throne life. Damn, maybe I made you a little too badass.”

  “You’re having water for the rest of the night,” he says.

  You glare at him, contemplating on making a remark about his equally flushed face but decide against it. Instead, you lean onto the balcony and give a cat stretch. A large sigh escapes from you.

  Wordlessly, he shakes off his jacket and places it around your shoulder all the while averting his gaze on the unblemished skin of your upper thighs that had been exposed from your previous movement.

  Your blood feels like liquid fire coursing through your veins. Feeling overheated even in the evening breeze, you give him back his jacket. You note his reluctance to meet you even as you throw what could be a thousand dollar jacket in the air to him. “So what’s it like to live like this every day?” you say in wonder. You feel said breeze return and lean over the balcony to catch its chill.

  “Like what?” he asks. The warm summer night’s breeze blows through, settling his hair in a childish tousle.

  “Like rich,” you say. You sigh again. “Believe it or not, I’m the same age as your birthday boy best friend.

  And everything feels absolutely unreal right now. If I hadn’t agreed to come here tonight with you, I’d probably be at another dingy bar knocking back shots with my brother and friend.”

  “Are you a secret alcoholic?”

  You glare at him. “No,” you state matter-of-factly. “As I was trying to share, this type of lifestyle is something I could ever only imagine. I’m not ungrateful about spending time with them, but at the end of the night I’d go home, sweaty, drunk and gross, and then simply pass out. My bank account might be a couple hundred bucks lighter. Come Monday I’ll be working my ass off just to earn back what I had spent. Then cue the repeating cycle.”

  Resting your chin on your palm, your other hand sweeps your hair back behind your ear.

  “It’s amazing the difference a few life choices can have.”

  Seokjin remains silent beside you. Truthfully, he is at a loss of words. The moonlight plays across your face and caresses your nose down to your lips. You are arching your back once again to pull away the soreness that comes with wearing high heel the entire night. It is just a simple black dress but on you it made you look –

  “Well, you’re Mrs. Kim tonight,” he starts.

  “Charlotte Dior Laurent,” you correct him.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Okay… Ms. Charlotte Dior Laurent. Tonight you get to live like the rich, as you’ve put it. As a rich person, what would you like to do?”

  You ponder his question a few moments for the answer. “Hmm…I think I’d like to play golf. It’s a rich person’s sport. I want to play it on a private golf course, wearing cute golfing outfits and talk about million-dollar deals with a client without a care in the world. I want to order sangria by the gallon.”

  He laughs out loud. It takes a while for him to be able to speak again, but when he does you feel as if the night has been illuminated a few degrees brighter. “I personally don’t have a private golf course, but Junho does here in his backyard if you’re up for it. I can’t promise cute golfing outfits so you’ll have to do with your wine stained dress. And if you’re really up for it I can pretend to make business deals with you, that’s my job anyways.”

  You grin, taking the hand he has offered you. “Call.” The two of you shake upon his suggestion.

As he is leads you by the hand towards the dim gates of said golf course, you tug at him gently. “There’s something missing…” you say.

  He shakes his head and pulls you back in towards the party room. 

“I’ll see what they have at the bar.”

... 

As the hands of the clock continue to spin past another hour, the summer night takes a chilly turn. Seokjin has lent you his jacket but even that cannot stop your fingers from becoming numb. Your hands shake even as they tightly hold the golf club. Seokjin watches you in silence as you prepare to hit the golf ball, a beer in one hand and a few opened bottles littered on the grass beside him. The club hits the ball with a resounding “cling” but does little in propelling it a few centimeters.

  “This one doesn’t count,” you announce, “It’s too dark to see anything here.”

  Seokjin takes a swig as you readjust your position. You sway in the wind and the last tendrils of your hair come undone in its half up half down hairdo. Your hair now whips wildly around your face when another gust blows through.

  “Shit!” you exclaim, missing the ball again. “Why is golfing so hard?!”

  You throw your club down and trudge to Seokjin. The six pack the two of you had been sharing has officially been depleted. Seokjin offers you his half empty bottle. This time, you are the one watching as he goes to your spot and effortlessly swings his target into the darkness.

  He smirks from the spot.

  You grumble. “You’ve had years of practice. Not fair.”

  “You’ve got to do better than that, Mrs. Johnson,” he says, teasing you.

  Your grumble becomes more audible. You place the now empty bottle on the ground and cross your arms against your chest. Since telling him of your other American alias from tonight, he has not ceased to remind you of your strange choice of name.

  “Just so you know, Mrs. Johnson can afford both an affair and the consequential prenup,” you huff.

  “It’s still a stupid last name.”

  “It’s an American multinational corporation with an income in the billions, okay?”

  “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. Now come on, I’ve got one last ball. Take a swing.”

  Groaning, you shuffle over. You wish you had not suggested golf. You had never been good at sports anyways – bad hand-eye coordination.

  He stands beside you this time, scrutinizing your every movement with hawk-like eyes. “No, not like that,” he says, “Have a wider stance and bend your knees. Better centre of gravity gives you a better swing. Also hold it with a neutral grip.”

  You readjust your positioning following his instructions.

  “Index finger down the center. Good. And three knuckles on each hand. No, that’s two. Okay your hands are just weird now. Three. I said three.”

  “Stop standing there and show me then, Mr. Know-It-All,” you say, your patience in this makeshift lesson also coming to an end.

  He walks closer to you, reaching out for the golf club. He retracts his hands in seeing that you have yet to let go. “You got to – ”

“You can touch me. I did tell you that Mrs. Johnson can afford an affair and prenup. Besides, I’m not going to be able to learn anything if I can’t even see you in this dark.”

  He comes behind you and puts a foot between yours to guide your stance. Wrapping his arms around you, he fixes the placement of your hands to grip the shaft of the club in the way he had previously instructed.

  Perhaps it is the mixture of wine, champagne and beer offered tonight, but being enveloped in the warmth of this embrace intoxicates you. The tingles that are sent down from his soft breathing on the base of your neck, make you shake like a leaf in the wind.

He inhales the sweet undertones of your perfume. The tendrils of your hair brush against his collarbone, sending a sensual kiss onto his skin. Unconsciously, he draws you closer to him, shielding you from another gust.

“Now you just want to swing,” he says, the words a mixture of a whisper and guttural grunt. His chest rumbles with it, passing the vibration through to your back.

  You remain as still as a statue and lean ever so slightly back into him until your entire backside is pressed upon him.

  You can’t stop yourself as you ask him, “Do you want to have sex with me?”

...

[mxvladdy]

Hello! I love your writing and I may have a prompt, if it strikes your fancy. I'm aware it might not be entirely lore-friendly a request, but I love relationship shenanigans in Obey Me, so I got to ask: how do you think Luci, Diavolo, Satan and Beel would help their anxious SO adjust when MC begins demonstrating mad prowess in witchcraft right after they first spend the night together? Sex, power and pacts seem to go hand-in-hand in related media, but no one really planned for it in their case!

Awww thankie and sorry for the long wait! I’m glad you like my writing! I hope you like this! It gave me big thirst lmaooo

Lucifer

Mmmm you smell of him in the morning. He positively oozes from your every pore. Rich and spicy, like amber and freshly turned earth.

Good. Let it be known to all that you were claimed. Thoroughly.

He put his daily routine on hold for you this morning. He was weak to your pouting.

He’ll stay in bed for a little bit to indulge you. But duty calls and work waits for no demon

Neither of you really pay attention to how hard you are clinging to him when he tries to extract himself to get dressed

You both just kind of chalk it up to neither of you want to part

The day goes on as usual for him, meetings, paperwork, meetings, punishing Mammon, meetings

But the whole time something was nagging at him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. He just felt like he forgot something important

But that’s impossible-

The wall explodes out behind him cutting Lucifer off mid-sentence. The rubble and great ball of flames miss him and Diavolo by mere inches only because of the latter’s quick reflexes. “Are you alright my friend?” Diavolo asks golden eyes alight with surprise. Lucifer could feel the prince’s defensive magic prickling his skin in response to the pungent magic wafting out of the hole.

“Of course-” Lucifer steps back, straightening his jacket’s lapels, the near-miss ruffles his feathers. Both men step closer to the hole. His hackles raise.  The power emanating from the crater was far too familiar. Someone dares to use his magical signatures without permission.  Snarling into the abyss he marches forward. He ignores Diavolo’s calls to wait and strides through the hole. His wings flare up from his back along with his temper. He walks through each wave of magic that washes over him. With each destroyed wall he steps through more and more of his demonic form comes forth till he is more beast than man. Strolling through the final hole he stops. His red eyes sweep across the scene in front of him. As the seconds' tick by his mood morphs from rage to shock, then to a sense of blinding pride.  

“Well-” He crosses his arms and smirks. He turns his gaze to the epicenter of the damage.

“Luci, I am so so sorry.” You mutter aghast behind your fingers. “I-I don’t know what happened.” You were never the best student in any of the practical classes. The teachers made exceptions for you and your lack of magical prowess. In this class, the teacher always paired you up with Solomon or Luke so they could help you prepare the necessary spells and runes. But you felt so different today, stronger and sharper. Damn near unstoppable even. Just the thought of someone else doing your work made something deep inside you seethe. You didn’t need help, you’ve seen and heard the incantations a thousand times before- it wouldn’t hurt to try…Well, let’s rephrase that, it didn’t hurt you to try.

The classroom was totaled. Dust, rubble, and burning pages all float around you like a post-apocalyptic snowstorm. Soot from your uncontrolled spell blacked your clothes and skin, next to you Solomon stands rigid in shock white brows disappearing into his hairline. Quietly you lick your thumb and forefinger and put out the small blue flame singeing his bangs. “Thanks.” He spits out around a mouthful of ash and grit.

Lucifer coughs to draw all eyes back to him. He takes inventory of the room, making sure all the other students scattered about were still breathing. Satisfied he beckons to you with a finger. “Come.” You jump into motion, scrambling up and over the rubble to grab his outstretched hand.

“Lucifer.” He cuts you off.

“Not here,” He smiles warmly rubbing at some soot staining the tip of your nose. “Come let’s get you cleaned up.”

_____________

“Should I be worried?” You ask, stepping out of Lucifer’s private showers wrapped in one of his sinfully soft towels. “I’m not going to blow stuff up on a whim now, right?” You plop down on his bedroom’s couch. Lucifer hums noncommittally by his liquor cabinet.

“I doubt it. How do you feel?” He takes a seat beside you handing you a glass and grabbing your legs to drape them over his. You take a swig from the glass, the heat of the liquor getting rid of the lingering shock from class. How did you feel?

Your bones hum with some unknown energy and there was a fire coursing through your veins. “I feel like I could take on the world. Like I dominate half of the Devildom.” Lucifer’s smile was nothing short of smug.

“Good.” He sips his drink.

“Good?” You lean forward expectantly.

Lucifer strokes your cheek coming in to inhale your fresh scent. The commingling of his and your own was beyond arousing. “There is more than one way to seal and strengthen a pact, my beloved.” He pulls you into a chastened kiss, feeling your cheeks heat with a dawning realization of what he meant. “You have now given yourself to me in both body and soul. The- bonus perks were inevitable.” He parts from you, reaching for his glass.

“Will it go away?” You honestly didn’t know if you could handle any more curveballs down here.

Lucifer laughs swirling the dredges of his drink before downing it in one go. “Ideally no- but over time if it isn’t reinforced it will weaken and disappear on its own.”

“Reinforced?” The heat of your drink seems to dip lower down your body. Your demon scoffs giving you a knowing look.

He drags you onto his lap. “Are you truly satisfied with just a night with me αγαπούλα μου?” A gloved finger tugs at the hem of your towel. “If I had my way I would keep you full and drunk on my power for all eternity.” He captures you in a searing kiss draping you over the cushions of his couch, his eyes turning predatory. “Do not worry about the side effects.” He purrs caging you in. “We have all the time in the world to get you accustomed to them.”

Diavolo

He knew. This bitch knew before he ever got you in his bed-chamber. Just think of the entertainment value~

So when he sweeps you up into his quarters for the night day weekend, he just forgets to mention it to you

He is curious about how his magic will affect a human of celestial descent. Will it show up all at once? Or over a long period of time? He hopes that your blood doesn’t cancel out his claim on you

He watches you like a hawk for a while- and nothing…

Hmm. Perhaps it just didn’t take the first time? No matter, try-try-try again as the saying goes. He certainly doesn’t see you complaining

But as the week passes he slowly puts it on his backburner as his work begins to pile up again

You on the other hand are having a time. One day you are fine and dandy and the next you can read and write in languages you’ve never even heard of.

Then you started seeing some frankly crazy shit. Had the ghost at the house always been this active?

The last straw for you was accidentally freezing half of the house’s rose garden with a sneeze. To say you are panicked is an understatement

Frazzled you run to the only mage you could (kinda) trust

“It’s not funny!” You hiss frantically staring bewildered at your friend. Your look of panic just makes him laugh harder. “Stop seriously Solomon! Gods, what did I do?” You scrub at your face hard. If you made yet another freaking pact with a demon you were going to lose it. Seven idiots were enough for several lifetimes.

Solomon howls at this, drawing curious and rude looks from the surrounding tables of the tea house. You swat at his shoulder hissing like a cat. “Sorry- sorry” He hiccups. “Your turn of phrase was just so fitting.” He collects himself by taking a sip of his tea. “Tell me, what have you been doing of late?” He smirks around the rim of his cup.

You squint at him not getting it. His keen eyes drift down to land on the garden of purple and blue bruises littering your neck. You slap a hand over your hickeys. He smiles leaning over conspiratorially. “What’s it like to sleep with a God? The perks are amazing no?”  

You shook your head. “I-what perks?”

“Oh~ Loverboy didn’t warn you of certain side-effects?” The mage leans back in his chair. He was going to have a great time today. ___________

Unbelievable. You march up the walkway to the palace, your mind absolutely reeling. Did he know about this? Of course, he did-how could he not! Did he just forget? No- Diavolo was many things, smart, cunning, conniving, but never forgetful. You knew him well and knew he had to be on the lookout for “side effects” as Solomon put it.

Fine, two can play at this game.

“Ah! Mio Giglio! How are you?” Dia glances up from his mountainous amount of paperwork when you throw open his office door. He rises in one fluid motion to scoop you up in a tight hug. Now that you know what to look for, you hone into the way he holds you. His large hands run down your back and sides possessively, he clings to you rubbing his bulking frame on you like a cat marking you. He leans in close to rub the bridge of his strong nose up and down your clavicle and neck. You feel his hot breath on your skin when he exhales. How had you not noticed this?

“Good, and you?” You smile into the fabric of his shirt. Carefully you wrap your arms around his solid waist. You hug him lightly so as to not give away your little surprise.

“Better with you here.” He chuckles stepping back to return to his desk. You follow closely behind waiting for the perfect time to strike. “What have you been up to?” He asks innocently, going to sit back down. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

You hum nonchalantly coming up behind him to rub at his tense shoulders. “Nothing much.” He nods closing his eyes as your fingers dig into sore muscles. “Usual school week, made some new friends...Went shopping with Asmo and Luke this morning. Bought you some treats, hidden from Barbatos of course.” You drop a quick peck on his cheek. Diavolo smiles sinking lower into his chair. He hopped it was something with lemon or orange, they were in season now. Barbatos had been on the warpath with his sugar and carb intake of late. “Then I had tea with Solomon and he filled me in on some very interesting facts.” You kiss his hairline.

“Mmmm?”

You pull away from his warmth to come around to straddle his lap while he is distracted. He jerks at your sudden weight on his lap but relaxes almost immediately. He opens a golden eye, not even realizing he had closed them. Your demeanor shifts when his gaze is fully set on you, all sweet innocence gone. A cheshire grin spreads across your face. “Funny you should ask if I’m feeling ok. I have been feeling a bit off of late.”

Diavolo tenses. “Are you well?” He tries to reach for you, his arms coming off the armrests of his desk chair. You strike like a viper, your small hands wrap and lock around his thick wrists pinning them to the chair. His eyes bulge in shock. You watch coyly as his biceps bulge under his clothes. He tries to break free for a few minutes before settling back. “I see-”

Leaning in you brush your lips across his ears, heart racing with excitement. “You forgot to mention quite a few things, Dia.” The low purr he emits shakes both of you.

“My apologies.” He admits. “You know I love a good show. Shame I missed it.” He throws you a rogue smile. “Forgive me?”

You slide closer until you rested chest to chest, legs wrapping around his to pin him down further. His purr drops down an octave. Locking eyes with him you remove a hand from his wrist daring him to move. He doesn’t. You move slowly and deliberately resting your hand on his strong neck. His reaction was instantaneous. His pupils dilate, and the gold of his irises turn molten. You start to feel his magic seep out, you match it, giddy with excitement that you could. “Only if you work for it.” You smirk.

Diavolo nods readily, licking at his dry lips in anticipation. He was more than ready to atone.

Satan

He is a good noodle and has the decency to tell you what will happen beforehand

It’s only polite to give you a heads up before he breaks your headboard

You both are curious about how it will affect you. He at least is excited to teach you some practical magic

Plus the idea of you pranking Lucifer with magic? Sublime.

He smells it blossoming under your skin while you sleep.

It’s sharp and minty with a smoky finish. Then the power hits him like a brick to the face. He is in awe.

It’s like an electrifying feedback loop that just energizes and excites him and you feel it too. He’ll lose himself in you and your body again, hyped up on the headiness of it all.

Once he has *cough* cleared his head *cough* he takes you out to try out your newly found powers. He has so many things he wants to teach you.

Satan kneels beside you nodding his head in approval at your chalk markings. Your lines weren’t exactly steady, he could see how your hand shook as you copied his paperwork but you followed it dutifully. He finds your nervousness adorable as if he would let anything bad happen to you. At his go-ahead, you get to your feet. Turning your palms down towards your summoning circle you recite your spell and watch in amazement as your runes glow bright green underneath you. In a flash of blinding lights and smoke, you sense the pull of the creature emerging from your rune work. Delighted you look down at your handy work.

“Congratulations my darling, exceptionally done.” He grins proudly from his perch by his bookshelf.

You bend down and pick up the little critter. “What is it?” It looked like a blob of flan but firmer. Its squishy form shivers in your palm when you poked it. Its body giving way under your gentle poke. It was dark green but lightened to an electric green at its base. It was surprisingly warm.

You feel Satan coming up behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder. “It looks to be a lesser familiar, not bad for your first time summoning ever.” The jelly wiggles at his praise even though you couldn’t find any discernible features on its smooth little body. You turn it this way and that in your hand, even though it didn’t have eyes you could sense it was sizing you up to.

“What can it do?” You raise a brow at your companion. His arms circle your waist, his grin turning mischievous.

“Let's find out.”

________

Your lungs burn, each breath coming hard and sharp while you run. The sound of your pounding feet was swallowed up by the rush of foot traffic around you. Satan drags you behind him ushering you both around the throng of students. “Quickly!” He looks over his shoulder and flashes you a brilliant smile. “The further away from his office we are the less likely he could blame us.”

You laugh breathlessly along with him.

________

“What Belphie say?” You lean onto Satan’s shoulder to peek at his phone. The two of you sit, crowding in on each other's space underneath a desk in one of the unused classrooms.

“It’s glorious. Everything is covered. He says it looks like magic won’t remove it either!” He cackles showing you his screen. Belphie sent him a selfie. He is grinning devilishly from ear to ear throwing you both a peace sign through the screen. In the background, you could clearly see a very irate Lucifer. His face was red with fury and his clothes covered in green goo. His office was wrecked. Your little jelly did a number on it, you hadn’t expected it to expand as large as it did. Your familiar popping on the edge of Lucifer’s desk wasn’t intended either, but totally worth it. “Think you can summon another?” Satan asks, darkening his screen. You shake your head, whatever power you had earlier today had been drained after your little stunt.

Satan nods in understanding. “Shame- imagine what one of your jellies could do to Diavolo’s office.”

“Satan-”

He chuckles wrapping an arm around your back. He plants a loud kiss onto your forehead. “Alright-alright. Perhaps after a bit of a rest and recharge?”

You poke his leg playfully and laugh. “If you wanted to have sex again you could just ask.”  

He dips low and kisses you. “Well then- if you are up for another round of delinquency…”

Beelzebub

Sweet baby didn’t know-

Well, he knew about it. Lucifer had given everyone “the talk” about it a couple of millennia ago.

He never really thought about it before you because he didn’t sleep with humans often (Him so big, human so smol if he isn’t paying attention it could be...bad)

So when you drag him into your room he just doesn’t think about it. You are both so oblivious

He doesn’t think about the shift in your scent, your kisses were just as sweet as always. If there was a peppery aftertaste to your kiss he chalks it up to something you had for breakfast

He doesn’t think anything of it when you practically drag him from your bed to shower together before school

He doesn’t think about it when at lunch your appetite starts to rival his

He starts to think about it during P.E. when your dodge ball puts a demon down for the rest of class

He definitely notices when you pin him down to steal his sandwich during your picnic date

Now he’s freaking out, whether it's because you are showing inhuman strength or the fact that you stole his food who knows

You nab yet another one of his sandwiches and start munching away with a hum of happiness. “Hey, babe.” He rumbles beneath you. “You feeling alright?” He wraps his large hands around your waist. Your weight was warm and comfortable over his prone form. He had whisked you away for an afternoon picnic, something to spend more time with you alone. After last night he craved being around you more than anything. He had packed enough food for him in mind. But it looks like it wouldn’t be enough. Odd. Beel rests his head back on the thick blanket protecting you both from the slightly damp grass underneath.

“Hmm?” You swallow down a mouthful of ruben. “Yeah! Famished though.” You lean back on his strong hip and swipe your finger around your mouth to brush off some crumbs. You reach for the other half of his sandwich to devour but pauses when you catch Beel’s kicked puppy look. With a huff of amusement, you offer the other half to him letting him chomp down with a fanged smile in thanks.

He chews in silence, watching you pick up a bowl of fresh fruit. Hmmm… He runs his rough palms up and down your thighs and hips ignoring your squirming and giggles when he runs over the thin skin of your sides. He squeezes you lightly. Huh- Your muscles were firmer than this morning, now that he was looking closer he could see that your frame was a bit sturdier too. Still his perfectly lovable and squishy human but more solid around the edges. In a last-ditch effort to figure out what has changed, he reaches out for his pact mark.

He jerks forward, upsetting your position on his lap, causing you to tumble backward, fruit flying everywhere. “Beel!” You shriek. He shushes you, squeezing your cheeks between warm hands.

“I forgot.”

“You forgot?” You repeat. “What dessert? I’m pretty sure the fruit was part of it...but I mean. If you want grassy cantaloupe it’s all yours.” You eye the remains of the seasonal fruit laying around you and then at the basket. You were pretty sure you saw some pastries at the bottom of it too.

“We had sex.” He blurts out bluntly, and quite loudly.

Your face heats. “Yes, thank you for the reminder.” You push him off sitting up on your elbows. “Please, why don’t you yell it out for all the wildlife to hear too.”

Beelzebub shakes his head groaning. “No-I forgot to warn you about our pact.”

Ahh-oh. You eye him wearily. If he was stressing you were stressing, it wasn’t like him to get so bent out of shape. “Ok-is it, like bad?”  What were you going to die? That would be a big thing to just forget. “How about you fill me in big guy.” You listen enraptured while he jerkily explains how you have strengthened your bond exponentially without even realizing it. Magic, super strength, the appetite, all because you jumped his bones.

Nice.

It sounded so cool- but then overwhelming all at the same time. Was it permanent? What if you lost control and actually hurt someone for real.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it-I just. You felt so good.” He wilts. “I should have been more careful- this is the first time I’ve done this.”

“Beel-”

“I swear.” He bulldozes over you. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you.”

You cut him off, combing your fingers through his hair soothingly. “I believe you, Beel.” You smile reassuringly. “It’s not like it’s gonna hurt me...right?”  He thinks about it for a minute then grunts, shaking his head. You grin brighter stretching out your arms. “And I get some cool powers right?”

He nods again. “For a bit yes.”

You get up off the ground excitedly. “Right then! You’ll show me the ropes right? I’ve never done anything magical before!” You look at your palms as if fire or sparks were going to fly out of them. Beel rises to his feet too.

“You sure? I doubt I will be as good of a mentor as Lucifer or even Belphie.” He looks around the large grove of trees and sprawling grassy acreage around you both. You both were far away from the populated areas of the mountain pass and town. He could practice with you freely and without worrying about damaging anything important. “Not the date I promised, but if you really want me to show you some stuff…” He offers you a shy smile. He did have a few cool tricks he could show you. You nod already rolling up your sleeves. Well- if this was what you really wanted then he would be glad to show you.  

[calpalirwin]

Ocean Currents

A/N: Trying out a prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting​ in which “Person A doesn’t want to be rescued by Person B, because they’re a lifeguard themself, but at a swimming pool and to tell a fellow colleague that they misjudged the pull of the ocean is just too embarrassing” with a few tweaks.

Word Count: 1.7k

And away, and away we go!

__

Eyes hidden behind your sunglasses, you carefully watched the group of friends set up camp just to the left of where you were stationed. You didn’t let your gaze linger long, quickly sweeping it across the rest of the beach, but there wasn’t much to see. The water was extra choppy today, evidence of a storm expected to roll in in the next few days, so most families had cleared out hours ago, leaving just the most adventurous of surfers, most of whom were regulars you recognized.

But this new group wasn’t here to surf as out of all their belongings, there wasn’t a single surfboard. Friends looking to soak up some rays and frolic around in the shallows, you hoped, and with enough in their group, you weren’t expecting too much trouble. Until one of the men pulled off his shirt to lather himself in sunscreen. Broad and well-defined muscles in his back and shoulders you recognized as the trademark of a swimmer. Swimmers, you had come to learn, were fucking idiots. Overconfident in their abilities and a complete disregard for understanding that pools and oceans were vastly different beasts. Almost as dangerous as the negligent parent to a wandering small child with their sneered “Isn’t it your job to watch them as a lifeguard?” as if this was the local community pool rather than the literal fucking ocean.

Thankfully the idiotic parents had left for the safer waters of those said community pools, off to antagonize some other lifeguard, who was probably just some high school or college kid hoping to pick up girls and make a couple bucks. Leaving just the surfers, you, and Swimmer Boy and his friends. Well… at least he and his friends were easy on the eyes, each one looking like they belonged on the cover of a magazine. You actually laughed to yourself, deciding you wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if a camera came out and a photoshoot ensued.

“Beautiful day out, ain’t it?” someone asked, and you turned to find Swimmer Boy staring up at you, shielding his eyes from the sun with one of his hands, giving you a nice view of the tattoos that decorated his skin.

“Always is right before a storm,” you replied.

“Oh, it’s supposed to storm? Damn…”

“Not today,” you assured him. “It’s a few days out.”

“Feel it in your bones?” he laughed, dimples indenting his cheeks.

“Ha-ha,” you deadpanned. “Do this long enough and you learn to notice the patterns, that’s all.”

“I see. Well, I’m Ashton, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

He opened his mouth to keep making conversation, but one of his friends came running up behind him, clapping his shoulder. “Stop flirting with the lifeguard, and let’s go! Hey, I’m Cal. Did this idiot at least tell you his name?”

You laughed as Ashton’s cheeks colored and he muttered something under his breath. “Nice to meet you both. Careful out there, alright?”

“If we’re careful, then you can’t rescue us,” Cal winked at you, walking backwards back towards the main group.

“Calum!” Ashton scolded, his cheeks now brick-red. “Sorry about him,” he offered you a quick apology before dashing off himself.

“Men…” you chuckled to yourself with a roll of your eyes.

~~~

Twenty minutes later, some of the surfers had called it quits for the day, but Ashton and his friends were still in the water, getting pushed around by the waves, the water only about up to mid-thigh. Nothing alert worthy, but still you kept a watchful eye, especially when the girls retreated back to their spot, and the boys waded further in, the water now striking just above the hem of their swim trunks. “Hey!” you called down to the girls, who turned their heads towards you. “Just a heads up, but your buddies probably shouldn’t go out much further than that.”

“Oh, thank you!” one of them smiled, while the other whistled loudly to get the boys’ attention, waving her hand at throat level in a “No more,” gesture, getting a thumbs up in response. Then a, “Wait… Do you see Ash?”

“No… Michael! Where’s Ash?!”

A blonde cocked his head to the side, then spun around in the water, mouthing something to the other two with him, Swimmer Boy Ashton lost in the shuffle somewhere.

“Son of a bitch…” you muttered, hopping down from your station and breaking into a run towards the water, the girls’ screams of “Ashton!” morphing with the boys’ cries of “Ash, this isn’t funny!”

You splashed your way into the ocean, the water hitting you square in the chest by the time you reached the three men. With the next wave, you ducked under water, letting the current pull you, the salt water burning your eyes as you forced them open, looking for Ashton.

You popped to the surface in a break between waves, scanning frantically for the man, finally spotting a splash and a hollered “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Stop fighting against it!” you scolded. “Try to find the bottom, or let yourself float! Fighting’s gonna exhaust you! I’m coming, just hang on, and stop fighting!”

“I’m fucking trying! But it keeps pulling me!”

“Yeah, that’s the current! Here, grab this!” You threw the life preserver towards him.

“Ow!” he yelled at you as it bounced off his arm.

“Oh, shut up and hang on!”

You watched as he wrapped his arm around the life preserver. “Now what?!” he sputtered, wiping at his face with his free hand.

“Now, we use the waves to push us back to shore. Kick. Hard!”

“This is so fuckin’ embarrassing…” he groaned as a wave helped carry you guys back a little ways.

“Swim to the left,” you directed, feeling the pull of the current. “Parallel to the shore.”

“Okay, I feel sand. I can stand. I got it from here.”

“Cool. Some of us aren’t as vertically gifted, and in case you forgot, I’m trying to save your ass.”

“Mission accomplished,” he grumbled, still keeping pace next to you, as your own foot connected with sand.

“What happened?” you asked, as you started walking up the surf with him, the life preserver hanging rather uselessly from his arm.

“I got knocked off my feet. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?!” you screeched, gesturing between the two of you and up at his friends who all stood a hundred feet away on the shoreline, worry written across each of their faces.

“Well I wasn’t expecting to get sucked out!”

“It’s the fucking ocean!”

“Real professional, berating your victim. You scold the five year olds too?”

“Nope. Just the twenty-five year old man child who thinks he knows what he’s doing.”

“I’m twenty-seven for one thing. And for another, I’m not a know-it-all.”

“Could have fooled me. Fighting against a fucking current… Rookie mistake.”

“I misjudged it, okay?!”

“Just admit you have no experience in the ocean, pool boy!”

“Pool boy?!”

“You’re a swimmer, are you not?”

“I used to be…”

“And I’d bet good money that you misjudged your own swimming abilities, didn’t you?”

Ashton narrowed his eyes, growling low in his throat, and you knew you were right. “Fine, I made a stupid mistake. Happy now?!”

“No! Look, just do me a favor and don’t go out in the water higher than your shorts, okay? Better yet, call it a day like everyone else was smart enough to do.” With that, you yanked the life preserver from his arm, and stalked off back to your station, pausing by his friends to give a clipped, “He’s fine. Stupid. But fine.”

“Mate, if you wanted to flirt with the lifeguard, there were probably better ways,” one of them, Calum, you remembered the voice, joked lightheartedly.

“I wasn’t flirting!”

“I thought you were a swimmer…” one of the blondes wondered aloud.

“And weren’t you also a lifeguard?” the other blonde inquired.

“It was an accident!” Ashton hissed through his teeth, accepting the towel one of the girls offered, wrapping it around his shoulders and trudging up the beach. His friends shared a glance, shrugged their shoulders, then followed Ashton at a few paces behind.

You tried not to laugh as Ashton sat down in the sand in a huff, still intent on pouting about his misfortune while his friends started to pack everything up. After about ten minutes of sulking, and a whispered conversation you couldn’t make out, he stood up and walked over to stand under your station. When you didn’t acknowledge his presence, he cleared his throat loudly. “Scuse me?”

“Yeah?”

“I was reminded I’m supposed to be a man with manners. So, um… thanks.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have had to if I hadn’t made a dumbass mistake.”

“And which dumbass mistake would that be? Underestimating the ocean, or panicking when it started to kick your ass?”

“Make that two dumbass mistakes…”

You laughed. “You’d be surprised how often that happens. It’s no swimming pool, that’s for sure. And brains have this nifty way of shutting down at the worst times.”

“Still doesn’t stop me from being completely embarrassed. And unfortunately when I get embarrassed I act like a cunt. You were just doing your job. Sorry if I made that more difficult than it needed to be.”

“I could tell you at least 10 more difficult cases that would make your head spin.”

He winced in sympathy for you. “Well, thanks again. And sorry.” He gave you a small awkward wave before turning to walk off.

“No worries,” you called out to his back. “But, hey.”

“Yeah?” he asked, looking at you over his shoulder.

“What your friend said earlier. You seriously didn’t pull the ‘fake drowning to flirt with the lifeguard’ bit, did you?”

He laughed, giving a shake of his head. “Nah. Wasn’t a flirting bit. Just a dumbass bit.”

“Good. Cuz you know that doesn’t actually work, right?”

“Mmm, and what about asking you to dinner as an apology? Does that flirting bit work?”

“I dunno. I guess you would have to ask and find out.”

“Can I take you to dinner to make up for you having to rescue a dumbass who should have known better?”

You glanced at the clock in your station. “Meet you at the pier in a half hour?”

Ashton grinned.

__

Tag List

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[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Kinks

The Devil Wears Nada

Summary: Steve’s fed up of getting cock blocked during what was supposed to be bit of alone time and would make a deal with the Devil herself to get some alone time with his wife… Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT- (NSFW, 18+) Like seriously, if you’re under 18 get off my blog.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark.

A/N: This is possibly the filthiest thing I’ve ever written...and I’m not even sorry. It follows on directly from Bumps In The Night which was written by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ as part of Stark Spangled Banner’s Birthday Party. Give it a read, its wonderful!

SSK Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

 Katie and Steve headed back inside, Katie diverting into the lounge to go and retrieve the candy off the kids before they ate too much of it in one sitting. Steve had to snort at the various cries of protests that rang round the lounge and his wife’s stern voice telling the three children in there that she didn’t care if it was Saturday, they weren’t consuming enough E-numbers to fuel an army before bed. He made his way into the kitchen and was completely unsurprised to find Bucky already had his head buried in the fridge.

“Make yourself at home.” He deadpanned and Bucky looked at him, thrusting a beer in his direction. “Gee thanks.” Steve’s dry sarcasm still present as he looked at his friend who was offering him his own fucking beer. Bucky grinned and shrugged as he passed one to Sam as well as he strode into the room, the three men popping the tops. Steve took a long pull from his as he eyed Bucky “Why are you here?”

“Rude much?” Bucky asked, his eyes still checking out the contents of the refrigerator. “We were concerned uncles…you weren’t with the kids.” “They were with Emmy and Queens” Steve arched an eyebrow “Perfectly safe.”

“They showed up on Tin Man’s doorstep.” Sam grinned “We were halfway through studying a couple of files and they basically swamped us and said it was their last stop of the night. Bucky thought it would be fun to come back with them.”

“To bug the crap out of me or…”

“I wanted candy.” Buck shrugged.

“Then you should have gone Trick Or Treating.” Steve replied “And let’s face it, with a face like that, who needs a mask?”

“Ouch, Stevie…” Bucky looked at him as Sam chuckled in the background, before he turned his attention back to the fridge “Oooh, your Missus made a cheeseboard.”

“What are you a fuckin’ mouse?” Sam asked as Bucky pulled out the platter, setting it on the side.

“Just ‘cause I appreciate the good things in life, Seagull and you can’t.” Bucky shrugged, unwrapping the film from the cheese. “You know, Steve was just like this growing up.”

“Yeah, well, now I have better taste and I’m also big enough to kick your ass so stop eating my food and go home before I throw you out.”

“What’s got into you?” Bucky looked at him.

“You’re disrupting my plans.” Steve said simply.

“What pl-ooooooh!” Buck’s question morphed into a noise of acknowledgment as he looked at his friend “Then you should have taken advantage of the empty house earlier.”

“School boy error, Cap.” Sam smirked and Steve let out a growl of frustration.

“Well our various attempts to were thwarted one way or another, and now you two punks are ruining it again.” Steve glared at them “Put the cheese back and piss off.”

Bucky smirked. “Imma tell Katie you’re being nasty to me.”

Steve narrowed his eyes knowing full well the soft spot his girl had for Bucky and Sam. If she got so much as a sniff he was being a bit of a shit to either of them he’d be in for it. “You wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t what?”

At the sound of his wife’s voice Steve jumped and turned to see her clutching the huge bowl that had previously contained their candy by the door and now sported the combined content of their kids’ bags, Harry toddling behind her, his eyes fixed on the prize.

“Oh this is gonna be good.” Sam smirked, leaning off to the side unwrapping a Reeses which he pulled out of his pocket, slowly chewing as if watching a movie.

“Hey Doll Face” Bucky grinned at her “Steve won’t let me eat the cheese.”

“Ignore him, you help yourself Buck.” She waved to it as she passed Steve the bowl of candy “Stop being so moody, stick that up high somewhere.”

“You know that won’t stop Jamie, Rori or him don’t you?” Steve looked at her as she picked Harry up who watched shrewdly as his dad placed the bowl on the top shelf of one of the cupboards “All 3 of them had scaled the refrigerator by the time they were 2.”

“No but it might delay them enough for us to catch them.” She shrugged, her eyes moving to Bucky who was eating a block of cheddar like it was an apple “Buck, do you want some crackers or…”

Bucky nodded but Steve cut him off. “No he doesn’t.”

“Yes I do.” Bucky smirked as Katie looked at Steve, arching an eyebrow at his unusually frosty nature towards his friends. She set Harry down on the counter by Bucky who grinned at the toddler, offering him his hand in a hi-five. Harry grinned and slapped his Uncles palm before he looked at the cheese.

“Absolutely not pal.” Steve said to him and Harry looked up.

“Dinosaurs don’t eat cheese.” Bucky shook his head at Harry who stared at him and blinked before he shrugged.

“But I hungry.”

“You can’t possibly be.” Katie looked at her son

“I am Momma.”

“Now look what you’ve done.” Steve glared at Bucky.

“Me?” Bucky scoffed, his mouth full “What did I do?”

“Set him off, look, why don’t you go and eat Jen’s cheese?” Steve asked and at that there was a pause before Sam, Katie and Bucky all burst out laughing. Steve groaned “Ok, that came out wrong.”

Sam snorted “that’s what she said.”

Katie laughed harder and Bucky grinned, swallowing his mouthful as Katie headed into the pantry. “Innuendo aside, I can’t. She’s got something going on at the coffee shop. Bunch of teenagers doing Halloween activities or something, I don’t know. She won’t be free until later.” He turned to Katie as she walked back in, handing him the box of crackers and he thanked her “So I thought I’d come see my best friends for a beer seeing as it’s not even half 8 on a Saturday yet.”

Katie smiled at him “You two are always welcome here, you know that. Isn’t that right Steve.”

Steve fixed a smile on his face and glared at Bucky who was positively beaming at the fact he knew he was being a cock-block. “Course it is honey, course.”

“Right my little Jurassic baby…” Katie picked Harry up and he giggled, the hood of his dinosaur costume falling over his eyes. “Bath time.

“No bath Momma” he shook his head furiously, looking up at her as she pushed the clothing back off his head “I have one tomorrow.”

Katie looked at him, “Your face is filthy.”

“Wash my face then.” He looked at her and Katie raised her eyebrows and looked at Steve who chuckled.

“Wanna help me out here daddy?” Katie asked and Steve looked at his son.

“Ok, how about momma washes your face tonight but you’re having a bath first thing in the morning.” Steve looked at Harry as his son considered it for a second. It was late after all. Skipping bath night one evening wouldn’t kill him.

“Deal” Harry nodded, holding his hand out. Steve shook it as Bucky and Sam both gave snorts.

“You need a hand?” Steve asked.

“No, I got it.” Katie shook her head “I’ll get him sorted. You can send Rori and Jamie up in 15 though.”

“Sure.” Steve nodded.

“Say goodnight Harry.” Katie said, turning round so Harry could see Sam and Bucky.

“Goodnight Harry” he grinned, before he cackled at his usual joke. The tot had no idea why it was funny, but when he had first said it, it had cracked both Katie and Steve up so now he seemed to say it every night. Bucky and Sam obligingly laughed as Steve dropped kiss to his son’s head, before pecking Katie’s cheek as she carried him out of the kitchen.

**** Half an hour later, after Rori had done one final parade around the kitchen in her princess cat outfit, beaming when Bucky had declared her the “prettiest kitty cat in all the world” and Steve had once more told her “no, you can’t have a real cat”, all 3 kids were clean and in their rooms. Harry and Rori were both tucked up in bed, lights off, whilst Jamie was watching TV with a warning from Steve that he had 30 minutes before it was time to turn it off. Steve knew Jamie would listen, it was part of the deal that he got to have a little time like that in his room as he was the eldest one now. Jamie took it seriously, knowing full well that abusing said privilege would mean it was revoked just as it had been a few weeks months when he’d been giving Steve some serious back chat and cheek. Steve had sent him to his room and Jamie had simply shrugged responding sarcastically “Fine, I’ll go watch my TV, what a huge punishment.” Steve had seen red and headed straight into the garage before coming back with a pair of pliers. He’d walked straight into Jamie’s room, cut the plug off the TV leaving his son staring at him, open mouthed as he breezed out of the room with a simple “watch it now, smart ass…”

The 4 adults were all sat in the lounge, sprawled across the various sofas with a drink each as the fire roared giving the large living room a cosy, homely feel. Stark was stretched out on the rug in front of the fire, snoring slightly, and the stereo was on playing a little background music whilst the rain pattered against the large ceiling to floor windows. Steve adored this time of year for precisely this reason. Katie snuggled under his arm, her back resting against him as she lay stretched out down the cushions, his arm looped around her crossing her chest. The hand that wasn’t holding her wine was gently rubbing over his forearm, her nails softly skating across the skin. Steve dropped a kiss to her head as they both listened to Sam who was recalling how Bucky had ended up with a load of candy stuck on the hand of his metal arm without realising, which he had then stuck in his hair when he’d run his hand through it.

“He cried like a bitch when I was pulling the gummy bears out.” Sam grinned and Steve tipped his head back, a huge laugh rumbling through his chest as Bucky glared at him.

“Punk.” He looked at Steve who simply smirked and took a drink from his bottle

“You know, I gotta say that these kids take it to the next level nowadays.” Sam swallowed a mouthful of beer. “I mean, some of those costumes are awesome. We saw a really cool Iron Man who had the reactor in his chest all lit up.”

Katie smiled “Yeah, Tony does seem to be a popular choice.”

“We got a Captain America.” Steve offered, not one to be out-done and Katie smirked to herself, “And by that I mean when it was me, or I was it, whatever. He may or may not have gotten extra candy.”

Sam and Bucky chuckled and Katie sipped her wine before she tilted her head back and looked up at Steve.

"At least we got no clowns this year..." Katie smirked and at the mere thought Steve shuddered and Bucky let out a huge snort.

"What...you're scared of clowns?" Sam looked at Steve but before he could answer Bucky jumped in.

"He ain’t just scared man, he's petrified. When we were about 8 and my folks took us to Coney, this guy dressed as a clown tried to give Steve a balloon and he ran away, but the best thing was…” Bucky leaned forward, his words coming between his howls of laughter “this clown kept doing it up until Steve was about 18 because he was so small and looked like a 10 year old.”

“Fuck you.” Steve narrowed his eyes at Bucky as he and Sam fell about laughing. Katie kissed his arm and sat up, pointing at Bucky.

“Stop making fun of him…he was cute when he was a smol bean.”

“Thanks sweetheart.” Steve grinned, pressing a kiss to her head. 

“Coulrophobia” Sam nodded sagely, “Quite common actually.”

“I’m not surprised.” Steve shook his head “They’re horrible. I mean, who on earth ever thought they were suitable as entertainment?”

"I dunno, it was kind of entertaining when Jamie dressed up as one.” Katie smiled and Steve physically shivered at the mere memory of that particular Halloween.

“Wait, what?” Bucky asked, looking at Katie and Steve groaned as he steeled himself once more to be the brunt of a joke.

“You seen IT?” Katie asked, “As in the newest one?”

Bucky nodded, grinning “A particular favourite of mine and Jen’s….although last time we watched it we kinda got distracted.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Katie snorted.

“Don’t wanna know,” she shook her head as Sam Hi-fived Bucky “but anyway, we had a Halloween party about 9 years ago at Tony’s. Emmy asked if she could be in charge of hers and Jamie’s outfits so we said yes. Little did we knows she’d had a little help from my dearest brother and just as we were about to set off…” she snorted and started to laugh “they come down the stairs and Jamie’s dressed in the BEST Pennywise outfit I’ve ever seen.”

Bucky’s face split into a huge grin as Katie continued to laugh, shaking her head. “So he’s toddling towards Steve and his face…” she stopped talking, as her laughter was now uncontrollable and she shook her head and Steve sighed.

“It’s not funny.”

“It is.” She stuttered, wiping her eyes. She took a deep breath “You stood there stock still, this look of utter horror on your face and I knew you were fighting the urge to turn and run…”

At that Bucky and Sam both burst out into laughter and Steve shook his head. “He was so upset when I wouldn’t pick him up.”

“You stopped the car at the top of the street because you couldn’t drive as you kept seeing him in the mirror…” Katie howled, tipping her head back in absolute, unadulterated laughter and Steve shook his head.

“You heard Sam, it’s a phobia…” he looked at her “I can’t help it, any more than you can about spiders.”

“Horrible eight legged bastards.” She shuddered as her laughter died down and she glanced up at him winking, as her voice dropped. “But you know the way to my heart…”

“Kiss you often, fuck you well, feed you snacks and kill the spiders.” he intoned, grinning as she chuckled “I know Doll, I know.”

**** Despite his best laid plans going to shit, Steve had to admit it was a nice evening as all 4 of them chatted and laughed but by the time Bucky and Sam left some 2 hours later, Katie had already gone up to bed about 15 minutes prior saying she was tired which meant Steve was now very doubtful he’d be fucking her well at all. Cursing Trick Or Treaters, counter surfing dogs, hungry babies and cheese eating, beer drinking friends he cleared the empty bottles off the coffee table and dumped them in the recycling before he let Stark out into the back yard so he could do his business. Steve stood watching him, the cold October air biting at his skin a little as he glanced up at the now clear sky, the rain having stopped roughly half an hour or so ago. He couldn’t believe it was November tomorrow. Another year almost done with. They were flying by, far too quickly for his liking. This year had marked 7 years since they’d reversed the snap and it still seemed like only yesterday since he’d walked away from it all and passed the shield to Sam, settling down into the domestic life he’d never dreamed in a million years he’d get. He was jerked from his thoughts when Stark walked back up to him, nudging his hand with his cold, wet nose and he smiled, petting the dog’s head as he walked past him into the little laundry room and sat obediently waiting for his paws to be dried. Steve shut the door, locking it and then towelled the dog down before the tan and white mutt shot off through the kitchen and into the hall. Steve heard his collar jangling as he bounded up the stairs to Jamie’s room whilst he himself made his way through to the lounge. The fire was still going, but he knew it would die down over night and he was just moving the grate to the front of it to avoid any embers spilling onto the floor when his ears picked up footsteps on the stairs. He instantly knew they were Katie’s and found himself smirking a little. Maybe he was gonna get a little frisky after all. And then he heard her walking across the hall and frowned, because it sounded like she was in heels.

“Honey?” he called, standing up straight and turning to see his wife leaning against the door frame, one arm extended above her head, the other hand falling to her hips as she looked at him, biting her lip. Steve felt his mouth drop open as he took in her appearance. She was indeed wearing heels, a pair of sparkly, high heeled red Jimmy Choos- her “Ruby Slippers” as Rori dubbed them, and his eyes scanned up her bare legs to the hem of the sheer, red negligee which finished mid-thigh. He could see the outline of a pair of matching, red lace panties underneath as he continued to take in her appearance. The top of the garment was low cut, her cleavage amplified somewhat as her breasts swelled over the lace cups and he swallowed as he felt his cock twitch whilst he simply stared at her, slack jawed. Fuck, she was the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his entire life and when she did stuff like this…Jesus.

He glanced at her face, her hair falling over her shoulders in waves and it was then he noticed that on the top of her head sat a pair of fake red horns. Steve’s mouth curled up in sinful grin as Katie gave a dirty giggle, her green eyes sparkling with mischief as Steve strode towards her purposefully, one thing on his mind.

“Read to sell your soul to the Devil, Solider?” she asked and Steve let out a chuckle as he stopped in front of her, his hands gripping her hips

“I sold it to you years ago, Doll.”

She grinned at him as he pulled her closer, his fingers curling against her gentle curves, tangling in the soft material of the negligee as he dropped his head to hers, kissing her deeply. Her hands smoothed over the top of his grey Henley coming to rest on his chest as he curled one arm around her waist, pulling her closer. At the feel of her pressed against him, Steve let out a soft moan

“God I’ve been waiting for this all night” he mumbled and Katie grinned against his lips.

“Well like I tell the kids, a little patience goes a long way Stevie.” she purred and Steve shrugged, his hands dropping to the back of her thighs as he easily lifted her, her heel-clad legs wrapping around his waist.

“And as you know when it comes to you baby girl, I have very little self-control.”

“Don’t I know it, there’s reason we have 4 biological kids.” she pondered for a moment and Steve laughed as her lips met his again and her hands raked into his hair, her nails biting gently against his scalp.

With steady strides, Steve carried her over to the spot in front of the fireplace where he gently set her on her feet and knelt in front of her. The light of the fire cast a bronze glow against her smooth skin and taking his time to simply enjoy the moment, his hands traced up the back of her calves to her thighs, his touch feather light as he reached up to her ass. He gave her flesh a squeeze before pulling her forward a little and her hands reached out to rest on his shoulders for support as he pushed his head under the bottom of the lace garment, nose skimming along the waistband of her panties. He peppered hot, open mouthed kisses across her soft skin, before he dropped his head lower and nudged his nose over her covered mound. She whimpered a little as he brushed her nub and her hips moved forward, seeking him out.

“Now who’s impatient?” He looked up at her and she glanced down, arching an eyebrow.

“It may have escaped your notice…” she took a deep breath “My self-control is also pretty non-existent around you too.”

“Well, I’m not one to keep a lady waiting” Steve smirked and in a swift movement he hooked an arm round her waist causing her to shriek a little before she laughed as he deposited her gently on the rug, caging her with his arms. He glanced down at her, brunette waves fanning out over the light grey and black of the soft tuft wool and leaned down, his nose nudging against hers.

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” she frowned a little, as Steve brushed his lips over hers.

“Good, now remember that. Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Katie barely had time to register what he said before he’d moved down her body, hands skating up the outside of her thighs where his fingers bunched in her panties. With a sharp tug he’d snapped the elastic and tossed them to one side, grabbing her ankles and moving her feet so they were planted on the floor, the heels she was wearing caused her pelvis to raise up off her floor slightly. Without another word he pushed her knees apart and his mouth was on her, and he wasn’t holding back.

Katie’s body jolted as she let out a soft sigh of his name which was laced with satisfaction as he set his mouth to work, devouring her with the enthusiasm of a man starved, which in all fairness he was. He was low key horny around her all the time and he’d been sporting a fucking semi pretty much since the first time they’d been interrupted that evening. Having her so close yet out of reach all night so to speak had driven him wild.

His tongue licked, and lapped, flicked and curled over and over and Katie’s groans and pants grew louder and louder as he worked her into a frenzy. She curled the fingers of one hand into his hair, the other gripping at the rug underneath her as she arched her back even more, pushing herself against his face as her head began to spin. The contrast of his short beard scratching at her sensitive skin to his soft tongue and mouth was sending her entire body into overdrive and Steve could tell. He gently grazed her bud with his teeth, inserting 2 fingers inside her, both actions causing her hips to violently buck, her nails dug further into his scalp and he gave a chuckle which vibrated against her clit causing her to groan loudly.

“Jesus Christ Steve…” she panted, looking down at him. He peeked up from between her legs, a cheeky glint in his eyes which shimmered in the light of the fire, full of a blaze of their own as he continued, his tongue flicking at her entrance, before he sucked on her bud and then she was gone. Her legs trembled as her hand pulled his hair, almost to the point it was painful as she gave a loud cry, her other hand reaching to his head as she used both to push him away from her sensitive sex. He moved his head back but his fingers stayed exactly where they were, curling against the soft sponge of her walls as she clamped down around them, giving a little groan as she did, her legs flopping down flat on the floor. With a smug sense of satisfaction at having undone her to the extent he had, Steve pushed himself up, wiping his wet face with the back of his forearm and crawled over her, cupping her cheeks, kissing her again, his tongue tangling against hers. Katie moaned wantonly into his mouth as she could taste her arousal as his mouth dominated hers before he pulled back, his thumb and forefinger gently gripping her chin making her eyes open and lock onto his.

“On your knees sweetheart.” His tone was low as he used his Captain’s voice to issue the instruction, telling her not to argue. Not that she would, as mouthy and stubborn as she was this was the one area of their relationship in which she was always willing to surrender to him completely. With a graceful movement she pulled her legs back towards her and turned her body, rising to her knees, palms planted on the floor.

Steve pushed the waistband of his sweats and boxers down before he moved his hands to her hips, pulling her back with a swift action, placing one palm on the base of her back. With the other he took his throbbing cock in his hand, gave himself a few quick strokes before he lined himself up. With a snap of his hips he buried himself in her heat, balls deep, jolting her forward. The rumble from his throat slipped out of his mouth at the relief of finally being inside her, drowning her cries out.

His pace was relentless from the outset, just as it had been when he’d worked her with his mouth and his hands gripped her waist tightly as he drove in and out of her over and over, in fast, deep movements, pulling her back onto him with each thrust he made. He watched her face as her head fell forward between her arms, her bottom lip clamped between her lip, eyes closed in pleasure, those dirty little noises she made joined the sound of skin slapping skin as he did just as he’d said he was going to do, and fucked her hard.

It was raw, animalistic even, and a far cry from the usual way Steve liked to love on her but hell, it felt just as good to Katie as anything he ever did and after a particularly deep drive she cried out, fisting her hands into the rug, as she felt him bend over her, his large frame crowding hers from behind.

“God you feel so good baby…” he groaned, his chest was pressed to her back, his mouth nipping at that spot on her neck as she felt the heat pooling in her belly again. In an almost automatic movement, her head rolled to the left, allowing him access to her neck where he nipped and sucked at her skin, her gasps growing louder as he continued to thrust. “So fuckin’ good…”

As he spoke, Steve reached up and wrapped one large hand around her neck, tipping her face round to his so he could kiss her. It was all Katie could do to kiss him back, allowing him to control the pace as she was completely gone, the sensations lancing through her body had left her totally pliant to his ministrations.

“Captain…” she panted softly against his mouth as Steve gave an almost pathetic whine at the sound of that name slipping from her throat as he continued to push into her, driving deep before he stilled, his hips flush to her ass. Katie gave a squeak as he rotated his hips, letting go of her neck and pushing himself back up as his hand slid down her body, between her legs drawing a long wail of delight from her mouth as he fondled her bud, “Shit…I’m…Steve I’m gonna...”

“Go on, come for me baby…” he hissed, his jaw clenched, the sweat beading on his brow as he rutted forward again, once more grinding against her “Give it to me, let go…”

With a last, loud, filthy lament she came, hard, her knees almost buckling, but Steve’s arm quickly looped around her waist holding her up as she blissed out completely, the entire world fading around her as she felt nothing but the familiar hot, warm pleasure as her abdomen contracted and relaxed as her walls spasmed around him over and over.

“Good girl.” he praised as he continued thrusting through, the heat in his own belly now beginning to spike even more, “Such a good girl for me.” Katie preened at his praise, relaxing slightly as he bent over and kissed her neck once more, picking up the pace slightly. And then, she pushed back suddenly catching Steve off guard, sending him sprawling onto his back. She went with him, his cock still stuffed inside her, her back sliding on his chest as he continued to fuck up into her, his knees bent, feet flat on the floor. Katie’s head fell back against his shoulder, her face tilting to kiss his as she lay on him, legs spread, feet planted either side of his hips. His hand crept over her stomach, dipping into her folds as his fingers and palm furiously toyed and played with her, brushing against his shaft as he rocked in and out of his wife.

“Steve…” she whined “I can’t…it’s too much…” “You got one more in you.” he all but growled, “I know you do. And I’m taking it, whether you want me to or not.”

True to his word he continued his unyielding assault on her senses and before long her breathing had risen and his name was slipping from Katie’s lips in that familiar staccato pant. She gave in, and this time the climax almost feeble but still just as pleasurable as she fluttered around him. At the feel of her round him, and the sound of the exhausted, sultry groan she let out into his hear Steve was done for, and with a final, violent buck upwards he came, biting down gently on her shoulder, muffling the noises of satisfaction and pleasure that rolled from the back of his throat.

The pair of them lay still, chests heaving  and Katie licked her lips, eyes closed as she waited for her body to gain some form of control over itself. After a little while, she felt Steve’s hands gently slid up her side to the outside of her arms, giving a gentle rub as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“You ok?” he asked.

Katie hummed a little and grinned, tipping her face round to look at him “I’ll say…that was…”

“Yeah…” Steve nodded, the pair of them chuckling. “It was worth the wait.”

Katie’s head lolled back against his shoulder and she closed her eyes again. Not wanting to move just yet, the feeling of her lay over the top of him whilst he was still buried inside her was too nice, Steve wrapped his arms around her front as he shifted slightly so he could press a kiss to her lips. She wiggled her hips a little and he gave a low grunt at the sensation and he looked at her as she arched an eyebrow.

“You want more?” he asked, his voice low and she fixed him with a look that was half suggestive, half apprehension as to whether she could actually take anymore. Steve grinned and pressed his lips back to hers, the kiss deepening as he felt himself starting to grow hard inside her again, and just as he had pushed her up into a sitting position, backwards on his lap, the security system sounded and the front door clicked open.

Katie’s head turned back to look at him over her shoulder, both faces sporting expressions of utter horror as Emmy and Peter’s voices drifted up the hall.

“Shit…” Katie jumped up, glancing down at herself as Steve scrambled to his feet, tucking himself into his pants, hastily yanking at the crotch in an attempt to make them a little less snug, so to speak.

“Give me your shirt…” Katie hissed and he reached over, grabbing a fistful of it in his hand. Yanking it over his head he tossed it to her and she shoved it on over her skimpy little outfit, before she kicked off her heels, and she’d just smoothed her hair down when the door to the lounge opened. Emmy and Peter stopped dead. Peter hastily turned away as Emmy’s eyes roved over Steve’s shirtless form, then to Katie who was stood in his Henley which thankfully was big enough to cover her body down to the middle of her thighs, hiding the red lace garment underneath. Whilst they might have hidden their modesty for the most part, there was no hiding the fact both of their faces were flushed with exhaustion and sexual gratification…nor was there any disguising the fact Katie was stood with her legs crossed in a desperate attempt to stop Steve’s release from dribbling down her leg. And then just to make it even more obvious, Katie’s shredded red lace panties were dumped in the middle of the floor right by her discarded heels…

“Jesus Christ…” Emmy mumbled, backing out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Katie and Steve glanced at one another, and Katie burst out laughing at the look of utter horror on Steve’s face.

“Cheer up Steve…” she patted his chest “Could have been worse.”

“Seriously?”  he blinked “What could be worse than basically being caught in flagrante by our daughter and that boy?”

“Ok, first off, his name is Pete…and actually I can think of a few things.” Katie shrugged, bending down to pick up her shoes and her destroyed underwear “Had she come in like 2 minutes earlier she’d have caught us in a much more compromising position…or even worse than that, we could have walked in on her.”

“Doll, just don’t!” Steve held his hand up, giving a groan.

Katie laughed and made her way to the door. “I’m going upstairs to clean up and get in bed, can you bring me a bottle of water up please?”

Steve sighed and nodded, watching her go. Taking a deep breath he wandered into the kitchen were Emmy was stood scowling, leaning against the kitchen counter as she glared as his topless form, Pete hastily averting his eyes.

“You two are disgusting.” Emmy shook her head “It’s bad enough hearing you in your bedroom but…fucking hell Dad!”

“Watch your mouth Emily.” Steve said sternly as he felt the heat rising in his neck. He made his way to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water before he straightened up. “We weren’t expecting you back so early.”

“Clearly.” Emmy arched an eyebrow.

“You know what?” Steve’s temper flared a little “This is mine and your Ma’s house, and well, frankly, we’ll do what we want, where we want.”

At that Peter gave a little cough and pushed himself up off the counter, “I’m gonna…yeah…” he said, pointing to the utility room door “I’ll be in the cabin Em.”

Neither Steve nor Emmy paid him any attention as he scuttled off, the door clicking shut behind him.

“Dad!” Emmy spluttered, her face in her hand as she shook her head “That was so embarrassing!”

“Well it wasn’t exactly a barrel of laughs for us either you know Em!” Steve groaned “Like, seriously, why did you even come in here anyway? You don’t need to come through the house to get to your annex!”

“We were hungry.” She whined, “Mom said she’d leave us something in the fridge although frankly, now I’ve lost my appetite.”

Steve wiped a hand over his face before he shook his head, taking a deep breath “I’m gonna go up to bed. Can we just forget this happened, please?”

“I’d love to.” Emmy practically growled as she made her way towards the rear of the kitchen. “God, I need to scrub my eyes with bleach…once you’ve finished using it to mop wherever you were…you know.”

Steve arched an eyebrow and that little devil on his shoulder reared his, or her as the case may be,  head and he couldn’t help the sarcastic response as it flew from his mouth “I hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I’d need a lot of bleach to wash down each surface of this house I’ve had your mother on.”

Emmy’s mouth fell open and she looked at him, before she let out a loud groan. “You’re disgusting. Like, I can’t even…”

She shook her head and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. Steve shook his head, watched as the security light clicked on whilst she stormed across the back garden to her little annex and with a chuckle he made sure the door was locked and turned off the lights.

All in all it had been a damned good day now he thought about it. He’d carved pumpkins with his kids, seen them all have a great time, eaten Italian, drunk beer, chatted to his friends, fucked his wife exceptionally well and now embarrassed his eldest.

“Mission accomplished…” he snorted to himself as he took the stairs two at a two, padding across the hallway and entering his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

[3pirouette]

Fic: Fighting Doesn't Make You a Hero (2/?)

Title: Fighting Doesn't Make You a Hero

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: StuntCoordinator!Steve meets Actress!Peggy, who is an absolute menace when it comes to stunts.

Chapter Summary: Steve falls hard for Peggy (figuratively) while Peggy falls hard (literally).

A/N: Here’s some more of the story I tried so hard to write last year when I put this little AU out. Also, this is the “more” that I think only one person actually asked for. Hope you like it, anyway. I’ve always loved this idea, the rest of the story has just alluded me until now. For Steggy Week ’21 Day 3: Favorite AU.

Apparently, there will be more of this, because my brain has FINALLY figured out how this is supposed to go, and it’s not just one chapter’s worth. Sheesh.

Also, if it is not clear (it should be…) I know nothing about stunts or stage fighting. Completely made up. Please enjoy.

~*~

Chapter 2: Thrust and Parry

It was hard to be nice to her when he was waiting for the next injury to occur. He was professional, clear, and concise. They rehearsed for hours straight on Wednesday for a long, single shot of her moving through a room full of stunt men for one of the climatic battles.

Though no one got seriously hurt, there were a few bumps and bruises that shouldn’t have happened.

It was hard not to be harsh with her, not to be demanding. He could see moments of beauty in how she moved, but then she’d go too far and make contact. He had to find a way of breaking her of it, if not for his own safety, for that of the stuntmen around him.

~*~

It was an early call for the shot they’d spent the entire previous day rehearsing. He was bleary and chugging coffee as quick as he could stomach it. Peggy was already on her way out of hair and make-up as he passed the trailer. She gave him a shy half smile as she passed him, being ushered from one trailer to the next to be slid into her ridiculously tight costume.

On one hand, he got it. He couldn’t deny that she looked absolutely gorgeous in that costume. (How long he’d spent thinking last night about her in that costume and what she might be able to do with that Lasso of Truth absolutely was not relevant…) But from a practical standpoint the costume wasn’t realistic at all, and she wobbled horribly on the stilettos. They had to stop rolling often to keep her taped into the thing.

The stuntmen around him were warming up, and he even heard a few near him joking about wearing cups. He gave them a sharp look, waiting until everyone was quiet before he reviewed timing and patterns while they waited for her to come out to set.

The director wasted no time once Peggy was on set. They made minor adjustments to the cameras and rolled on the first run through. He was proud as he watched them all, every move was timed right and it looked fantastic. He waited, with a smile, for the director to give his notes.

There wasn’t much for his team, but the director took Peggy aside and gave her quite notes and reset the scene quickly. He shot it over and over, from new angles and with different lenses, and by the time it was over, there were three black eyes and a cracked camera lens.

Peggy’s assistant ushered her off set as soon as they cut the last take, the star unable to look him in the eyes as she walked past.

~*~

The director decided, after a short break, he wanted another go at the capturing the pattern. Steve reluctantly went off in search of Peggy, hoping to figure out where she’d gone wrong that morning. He couldn’t find her in her trailer, and her assistant only pointed vaguely towards the parking lot.

He found her in a far hidden corner of the lot, sitting on the edge of a flower pot, crying. He was startled by a side of her he wasn’t prepared to see. He thought maybe he’d be coming out here to find her sneaking a smoke or a flask of rum. He’d heard she was dangerous, a bitch, a tough broad who didn’t care about the stunt men that she hurt. This didn’t really fit with all the stories he’d heard. “Peggy?”

She moved to wipe away her tears, manicured fingers moving swiftly and carefully around the fake lashes and caked on make-up. “I’m sorry. I’ll be right there. He wants another take, right?”

Steve crouched down next to her. “Are you… are you ok?”

She laughed, watery and weary. “Oh, good lord, no, but I’ll be there in a minute.” She waved her hand at him. “I’ll have to stop in make-up first.”

Steve stood hesitantly, astonished at how she pulled herself together so quickly. “Is there… is there anything I can do?”

She looked up at him, taking a deep breath. “I don’t mean to hurt anyone, I promise. I mean, I know I have a reputation, but… I’m not an action hero. I’ve never been physical. I’m not good at it.” She shook her head. “I’m a Shakespearean actress.” She stood, wiping at her mouth and pacing. “Give me Ophelia or Bianca or Beatrice. Hell, even give me a sword fight. I can fence, you know. But one time I get a tiny part in an action film and all of a sudden, I’m being type cast as some action hero and no one ever even taught me how to do any of this!” She was pacing quickly now, the rant spilling from her lips like a waterfall of words she couldn’t stop if she tried, her weariness evident with each syllable. “Not once was I instructed on the how, just, ‘punch here’ and ‘kick there.’ And it was fun so I kept doing it. I thought it was worth it, you know? But I should be saying no. The sane thing to do would be to say no to all of this but I mean, who says no to Wonder Woman?!” Peggy stopped, her face morphing as she realized all she’d said, her hands coving her mouth for a moment before she forced herself back into a stoic, hard shell. Her chin wobbled, betraying her hidden emotion as she pushed past him towards the make-up trailer. “Just know I don’t mean it. And I’m sorry.”

He watched her move away, stunned in her wake. He didn’t quite know what to do with that information, but he was quickly starting to feel a soft spot for her forming. He moved quickly back to set, relaying that she would be there soon and watching the team of stuntmen around him stretch to perform the scene once more.

She was back on set, looking fresh and happy, in just minutes. He ran them through the pattern again, and watched closer this time.

Once he’s shed himself of expectations, it was easy to see that she really didn’t have any idea what she was doing. She was a natural mover, to the point where he figured she was probably a good dancer, and that went a long way to hiding the technical flaws. But she was jerky when she tried to pull her punches and she wobbled off balance when she held back power in her kicks. She misjudged force when blocking constantly, and it put her on her heels, literally.

She was on her back in a blink when she shouldn’t be, coughing and sputtering. She had the air torn from her lungs with the impact, and everyone froze in place.

Steve bounded over, pushing through his stunt team to kneel by her side. Her eyes were closed, pressed tight. “Peggy, are you ok?” She was gasping, trying to get the rhythm of breathing back. “Slow in through your nose, slow out through your mouth, ok?”

He lifted her hand in his as she nodded, sputtering once more before slowly getting a deep breath in, and then another. He squeezed her hand tight. “Good, good.” He smiled when she blinked her eyes open, her breath starting to come back. “Better?”

She nodded, but he could see the frustration and fear in her eyes, welling tears following quickly.

“Let’s get her checked out,” the director called. “We got what we needed anyway.”

Peggy tried to sit her up, but Steve pushed her back down. “Wait until the medic gets here, ok?”

“I’m fine,” she argued, having tamed the tears quickly.

“Be that as it may,” he smiled, whispering, “You know what the protocol is.”

It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was the closest he saw to one today as her hand held tight to his. “Fine. Just this once.”

He moved away mindlessly when the medic came in and started talking to her, checking for a concussion or cervical injury, eyes still on her face.

Forget about the Lasso of Truth, her smile would be what was haunting his dreams tonight.

~*~

He met her in the rehearsal gym, bright and early the next day. He was on the floor, warming up, when she came in, hair pulled back messily and no make-up on, thermos of coffee in her hands. She was pretty much the exact opposite of the made-up, costumed bombshell from yesterday, but he was no less enthralled with her.

He couldn’t help it: he smiled.

Her smile back was half hidden behind another sip of coffee. “Good morning,” she said softly in her lilting English accent that she covered up for her movie appearances.

“Morning,” he stood, wiping his hands on his pants. “How are you feeling?”

“Bit of a headache,” she replied, setting her coffee down and pulling off her jacket. “Are the rest of the team coming?”

Steve hung his head, bashful. “Uh, no. I had them stay last night and run through tomorrow’s scene with your double.”

“Oh.” Peggy froze, the word slipping out softly. She started putting her jacket back on, trying to hide her disappointment. “I didn’t get the message. I thought I was doing the scene.”

“You are!” Steve corrected quickly, holding his hand out. “I just thought…” He sniffed and cleared his throat, trying to sound as professional as he could. “After I found you yesterday, I watched you do the scene again. I mean, really watched you. And you’re right. You’re missing a lot of the basics.”

Peggy wrapped her jacket back around her, crossing her arms. “Yes, well, like I said—”

“You weren’t taught,” he supplied quickly and gently, eyes kind and open. He shrugged and tried to smile. “I thought we could spend some time on that this morning. You already know the scene, so if we go back in and fill in some of those blanks you have…” He trailed off, hoping she’d understand.

She licked her lip slowly, thinking. “And you told the other stuntmen to stay home because…”

He wasn’t sure what she thought he was going to say, but he could imagine how some of his collogues might have treated her and couldn’t say that he almost expected her surprise. “I don’t want you to feel like they were watching you, or judging you. It’s not your fault no one taught you this, or that whoever you’ve worked with before didn’t take the time to make sure you were doing it right.”

She bent, grabbing her coffee to try to hide the shock he saw. She took a long swing and then nodded, pulling her jacket off again. “Alright then.”

He waved his hand, signaling her to follow him to the middle of the cushioned floor.

She was a quick study, and he’d been right as she eventually reveled somewhere in their discussions of balance and force, that she’d been a dancer before she became an actress.

“ACL surgery,” she replied, pulling up the leg of her legging and showing him the scar on her knee that he was sure must have been covered by make-up every other time he’d seen her. “Retore after the first surgery, and I never danced the same after.”

The melancholy that had started to disappear as they’d been going through their first few lessons returned, and Steve swore he’d do anything to see a smile on her face again. After a moment, he pulled up the sleeve on his t-shirt and showed her the crisscrossing pattern on his shoulder. “Cool scar, but I think this one wins.”

“Ohhh,” Peggy reached out, her fingertips lightly brushing over the flattened lines. “What happened?”

“IED just outside of Fallujah. Caught our caravan off guard.” He turned, pulling the shirt back more to show her the back of the shoulder. “Two bullets, six pieces of shrapnel, three torn tendons and almost a year of physical therapy.”

She let her hand run down his arm in a gentle way that made his heart pound. “Is that why you got out?”

He shrugged, stepping away and pulling his sleeve down. “It’s why they wouldn’t let me back in, so yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Do you miss it?” Peggy asked, truly interested.

He paused. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever asked him that before. He must have been quiet long enough that she took his lack of an answer as not wanting to answer, because she started rambling, stepping over to get more coffee.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I only asked because,” she paused to sip, taking a deep breath. “Well, because I didn’t really get to choose to stop dancing, my body chose for me. And as much as I love this…” she paused, her voice growing quieter as she looked down at her coffee, “sometimes I miss it.”

Steve softly stepped towards her. “This can be a lot like dancing, you know.” He held out his hand.

Peggy set her coffee down and took it, a smile on her face. “Really?”

He nodded, giving her a gentle pull that pulled her towards his body. “Think of it less like moves and add beats to it.” He started counting softly in fours, walking them through the pattern they’d just practiced: step forward, step back, parry, swing and miss, swing and block, swing, connect, turn under and sweep the leg.

Peggy laughed with delight as they stopped, standing. “That was… so much easier!”

Steve couldn’t help but smile back, she looked like an excited child on Christmas morning and he wanted more of that. “See? I told you. You just needed to understand it a little more. To figure out how to make it make sense to you.”

She bounced on the balls of her feet, excited. “Can we try the second pass?”

He nodded, stepping in front of her. He started counting again as she squeaked with happiness behind him. Push, pull, drop, jump, punch, punch… they moved through with the fluidity he knew she possessed but had somehow never understood or tapped into before. He smiled at her as they finished the set: her wrists in his hands, held over her head as they stood face to face.

They both smiled, but didn’t move. Steve could feel his heart pounding, and if the look on her face was any indication, the moment wasn’t one sided.

But he was here professionally, and it did no good to lean in and kiss her breathless like he wanted. He started to pull away quickly, but Peggy grabbed his hands, keeping him close. “Thank you,” she whispered, eyes shining with an emotion he didn’t want to think too hard about.

He didn’t understand. “For what?”

“For this.” She shrugged, twining her fingers with his. “For not just believing I’m a dangerous bitch who doesn’t care who she hurts. For taking the time to actually teach me,” she smiled, “and get to know me.”

It was still between them, and he could tell what they both wanted, but he couldn’t give in. Not while they were in the middle of the movie and he knew she’d still need so much more help if she was going to make it to the end of all of the complicated fight scenes and wire work. Instead, he redirected, smiling wide. “Don’t thank me yet. We’ve got to do all that again, but this time, in the heels.”

Peggy frowned, but didn’t let go of his hands. “Bloody hell, I hate those fucking things.”

[humbughana]

history

warnings: boys that don’t know what no means, drinking, cursing. 

words: 1.8k

Lola has a run in with an ex.

“Get away from me,”

“Oh c’mon lo, don't be like that.”

Lola was currently seated at a bar, sipping on her fourth- no maybe fifth, drink and was happily humming to the songs in the background waiting for her friends to return from the dance floor. Rafe was out with his own friends that night and she missed his presence. He always let her lean against him when her world started to tilt slightly and she seriously needed it right now as she twirled on the spiny bar stool. 

But the annoying voice she was trying to ignore was one of her ex-boyfriend leaning next to her, in her personal space.

“So now you don’t speak?” he smirked and leaned further into her side as Lola grimaced and also leaned away about to topple off the high stool, “go away, Logan.” Lola narrowed her eyes at him before going back to her drink mindlessly. The history between the two of them honestly didn’t get far, she had met him in her freshman year seminar class and she clung to the first friendly face. Moving away for college was never easy, especially when you didn’t know anyone. But anyways, she fell for him and when he found his footing, he found new girls to keep him company while they were still together and Lola experienced her first real heartbreak.

Okay, so maybe their history went a little farther than she let on.

Now being a junior and dating Rafe, she felt nothing but contempt for the boy next to her. Lola had a slight problem with never letting things go and this is one of those things, not that she missed him, but that she wondered why he did what he did all these years later. 

“You always had so much to say when we were together.” Lola gripped her glass harder in her hands as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Reeling in her anger she turned to him and smiled, “Until you fucked half our class when we were ‘together’.” She made air quotes over the last word and he rolled his eyes, “You can’t still be mad about that, Lo.”

“You’re disgusting. And don’t call me that.” she spat at him. Logan stepped in closer now that she was facing him. Looking at him Lola could still feel the way he made her feel, the way he made her feel crazy and told her as much. How he had excuses for everything and she would cling onto every single one, waiting for him to come to her dorm at night only when he was in someone else's bed. 

“I’m sorry, Lola. Is that what you want me to say?” Logan placed a hand on her knee and she looked down at it before blinking up at him and shoving it off, “You’re two years too late.” Lola rolled her eyes, “I could never see you again and be fucking grateful.” She was determined to see him flinch but he only let out a laugh, “I don’t think you could ever forget about me, Lo.” he leaned a palm against her cheek before backing away and disappearing into a crowd. She let out a shaky breath before finishing her drink and ordering another. 

About an hour later she was sufficiently drunk and having a much better time, now mingling with strangers all over the bar with her friends when a hand wrapped around her waist and tugged her back. Lola looked over her shoulder to see Logan once again, with a drunken grin, “‘’ve been lookin’ for you” he slurred and leaned into her as she cringed away from his head.

Lola tugged at the arm around her, “get off me, Logan,” she tried to stay steady as he shook his head and desperately spoke frinatically, “I loved you! I miss you so much, lo.” He kept walking them further away from her friends and the crowd, finding a wall next to the door that was relatively secluded.

“I don’t care.” she yelled at him, “I don’t care how you feel! I want to get away from you!” She laughed at the hurt expression on his face, completely not stable enough for this conversation as she drug a hand through her hair.

“You don't mean that-”

“I hate you.” she stepped closer to him as she spoke with venom, “let go of me.” his hand was now only wrapped around her wrist and he shook his head, “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She tried to flinch away when his grip tightened painfully on her and she used her other hand to slam into his shoulder, “bitch,” he mumbled and grabbed her other arm painfully as her heart rate sped up not from the alcohol this time but fear. She hated the helpless feeling in her gut as his face morphed into rage.

“Hey!” They both looked over, Lola’s eyes wide with fear and unshed tears to see the bartender that was serving her all night followed by two bouncers, “Is there a problem here?” He looked towards her as Logan just laughed lightheartedly as if his fingers weren't leaving bruises on her arms, “Everything's fine.”

And she froze for once in her life, not being put in a situation like this ever put her at a loss. The ever so headstrong and confident Lola Brooks was nowhere to be found. 

“You need to leave.” The bartender was staring at her still as the two men behind him closed in. Logan sneered, “You can’t kick me out,” Lola yelped when he grabbed her waist this time, squeezing her side painfully as they pried him off of her, “Let go of me!” he yelled as Lola was finally safely removed from him and he was dragged out. 

“You okay?” the bartender was at her side as she nodded even though her hands were visibly shaking and she was on the verge of a complete breakdown, “I can walk you out if you have a ride?” he asked as a question and she shook her head and pulled out her phone. 

Finding his number was as easy as ever and she pressed the phone to her ear, “Hey baby,” his easy going drawl made her close her eyes.

“Rafe, where are you?” She asked straight to the point, praying he was sober and could come get her. 

“The house. Are you having fun with the girls?” He asked distractedly, Lola could tell as she looked at the ceiling in distress.

“Have you been drinking?” She asked quickly and he snorted, “I wish. I had to drag Max out of-”

Lola cut him off with a shaky voice, “Can you come pick me up?”

There was a pause, “Yeah. Yeah of course. I'll be there in five minutes. Are you okay?”

Lola bit down on her bottom lip, “I’m fine. See you in a little bit.” She hung up before he could respond out of fear she’d cry or something he had really never seen from her cold front. She had maybe cried once with him and it was over a movie so it didn’t really count.

“Someone coming to get you?” The guy asked and she nodded, “Yeah, he’s on the way. Thank you.” She nodded at him, thankful that he was watching her. He even led her back to the bar and snagged her a stool to sit on at the end closest to the walkway behind the bar as she waited, bouncing her leg anxiously.

The bartender slid her glass of water and then as a few minutes passed nodded behind her, “Is that one yours?” Lola looked over her shoulder to he Rafe pushing through the crowd taller than most people and a red had on his head that she loved making him stand out even more.

Lola nodded and finally he caught sight of her and smiled from afar and tried to get to where she was and pulling her towards him when he was in arms length, kissing her on the cheek, “Hey baby,” he grinned but then did a once over of his ‘center of the action’ partier girlfriend sitting in the corner with none of her friends in sight, “What’s going on?” he frowned as she grimaced slightly, “nothing, can I stay at your place tonight?”

“Yeah,” he nodded slowly but was frowning at her still and the bartender rolled his eyes as she narrowed her own at him. 

“Some asshole wouldn’t leave her alone,” Rafe turned towards the boy as he continued, “had to physically remove him from her and the bar,” Lola looked down feeling nervous and embarrassed as Rafe thanked the man quickly while paying her tab and placing a hand on her back as he guided her out of the bar. She faltered when she walked outside, half expecting Logan to still be here but Rafe just looked at her in concern, “C’mon, i’m just around the corner.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders in the cool night air and into his side.

The drive back was quiet and she grabbed the hand on her thigh, interlocking their fingers and squeezing him just thankful he was there; Rafe didn’t miss the gesture that was never like her. They got all the way up into his room before he asked her what happened.

Lola opened her mouth but had a harder time coming up with a real story to tell him, “I- my ex he grabbed me,” she stuttered, looking down at her raised hands and Rafe saw the red lines on her skin, “he wouldn’t listen,” she blinked rapidly as her lip wobbled and Rafe wasted no time in pulling her into him as she finally cried. 

Rafe just held her, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling on onto his lap as she tried to collect herself hidden in his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, sniffling as she pulled back all red with wet cheeks, “I don’t know what's wrong with me,” 

Rafe lifted her hands up between them and traced the marks that would probably bruise as angry filled him, “Not a thing,” he pressed a kiss into each of her wrists and relished in her letting him finally comfort her for something. Lola smiled softly at him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, “Thanks for the rescue.” 

Rafe rested his forehead on hers, “Anytime baby,” he paused for a second, “I’ll kill him the next time I see him.”

“You don’t even know who he is,” she couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at his words that were so like him as he huffed in disdain, “You’re ex?” Lola nodded with a frown. 

“We don’t have to talk about it tonight but we will eventually.” Rafe pressed a kiss to her own lips and Lola nodded, “I know.” she mumbled as he pulled back satisfied with her answer.

“Now let's go get ready for bed, baby. I missed you today.”

x

[bubblyani]

Bail Out : 10 (FINAL)

(Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A Bruce Wayne Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 10: Life Sentence (Final Chapter)

Summary: One fateful, drunken night gets you arrested for assault.  However, once you get bailed out by Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne,  surprising obstacles get in the way, forcing you to question all your  choices in life, career, and in love.

Word Count: 6200+

Rating: Mature (18+)

Warnings: Violence, Swearing and Sexual Content

Author’s Note: The Final Chapter is finally here! As much as it makes me happy to give this the ending I wanted, I am truly sad to part with this Series. Hope you will enjoy this for the last time <3

CHAPTER LIST

Serene was the nocturnal sky, generously adorned with stars that shone like diamonds. Though an obstinate circle of clouds slowly advanced from the distance, the sky brimmed with enough confidence. Enough to conquer the night with its serenity. A sheer contradiction to the chaos that conquered the rooftop of Wayne Tower. Chaos that morphed into a fight to the death.

Gripping on to the phone, a surge of hope rushed through your system within a matter of seconds. For Blake’s message helped. It was the solution to all this. “LOOK OUT!” Batman’s growl made you look back. Your face grew pale the moment your eyes caught the sight of Emilio, pointing a gun at you. All happened in a matter of seconds. “You’re getting away that easy!” He said, chill embodying him with his hand in the trigger. It seemed death was greedy for your company. Frozen in place, Would you accept? “Goodby-Ow!” A surprise attack greeted Emilio from the back as the Dark Knight forcefully bashed his head with his elbow, leaving Mr. Slender on the ground, fully unconscious. You sighed looking at Batman, relieved to find him well. Except, you realized the evening was not fully resolved. Wait! Your heart raced frantically. Where was Clara all the sudden? Darkness was an ally to Clara, camouflaged as she ambushed Batman from the back. You gasped as you saw her grab his neck with a black wire, forcing him to fall on his knees as she began to strangle him with it. A strong man, he certainly was. You needed no proof. However, sneak attacks such a this were practically anyone’s weakness. Thus, his agonizing roars frightened you. Seemed that death turned its attention somewhere else. And that frightened you more. “No…Bruce” You whimpered to yourself, as your heartbeat grew fast in ten folds. Never had you lost anyone you cared for. And as weak as it seemed, you were not prepared to lose him. Not him. Not him at all.

“Wait! WAIT!!” You yelled at Clara, “DON’T DO THIS! NOT TO HIM!!” 
 Unfortunately, those words did not reach Clara’s ears. Not when her focus was elsewhere. Even through the cowl, Bruce’s face had turned gaunt, struggling to pull the wire off his neck, but failing miserably. With gritted teeth and groans of frustration, Batman was as helpless as he could be. Smothering yourself by the sight of him this way, tears pooled around your eyes. And at that moment.That very moment, was when a memory flashed before you:


“You know what? It’s a darn shame Joe Chill didn’t finish the job…He should have gotten rid of the entire Wayne family”

You remembered Henderson’s harsh words, insulting and harming the reputation of the man you admired before you at the hotel one fateful night. Then you also remembered the rage in your eyes, taking justice into action as your fist bashed through his nose.

Now here you were, having to stand up for the same man once more, except in actual dire circumstances. For it was his life that was harmed instead of his reputation. Being the reckless woman you were before will certainly not help.Not with her. Not with an opponent of this magnitude. As time ticked fast, you had to take action. Smart was key. Practicality was key. His life was key. Tightening your fists, you drew in a deep breath:

“ALPHA!!…” You cried out, to which she did not answer once again. Pressing your lips together, you yelled louder: “CLARA!! I KNOW, OKAY?…” You said, "I know, being in your position, you don’t wanna hear me out. I know!” You continued, “Especially me being the target but…” drawing in another breath for courage, you added,  “But I ask you to make an exception...Oh god!” Covering your mouth, You gasped as she strangled  him tighter. Unaffected, Clara scoffed:  
 “No offense but…A job is a job…” Gathering the courage that spilled all around, you held on to the phone tightly: “Yeah maybe but..What if the job is NOT worth it?” You inquired loudly. Looking up, she seemed a bit surprised. “What?” “I mean…” you paused, “Is Henderson really giving you what he promised?” You said, raising both arms, “Or don’t you have a feeling that he’s stalling ?” Clara stood straight. “What makes you say that??” She snapped defensively. “This…” You replied, pointing at your phone as  you played the Blake’s file on loudspeaker: It was a conversation between two men.

“Sir, about the Bruiser, I think the police maybe onto us” One man said, his tone rife with concern. “Don’t worry, she’ll finally be taken care of” the other voice replied. Which seemingly was Henderson’s. “When do you want to wire the rest of the payment to Alpha?” Henderson’s cackle was loud, “Payment??” He repeated, “No that’s not gonna happen, Paterson” “Sir?” Paterson was confused. “This Alpha..he’s is a sly one, and definitely not the obedient kind. Do you think my plan was to pay that son of a bitch in full?? Nah...as soon as the job is done, I’m gonna get them all arrested...Cause no one...No one messes with Henderson” “But sir-” “THAT’S FINAL!”

Calmer was what you felt, as you put the phone back in your pocket. A few seconds of silence was all that required for Clara to loosen her grip on Batman. Her expression changed. It was filled with shock, as if the recording had slapped her in the face.

“Don’t you see??” You chuckled sadly, “Henderson is trying to make a fool out of ALL of us.” As you pointed at her, at Batman, even Emilio, “In the end...it’s  us who’s getting screwed” Staring at the ground, Clara’s eyebrows furrowed. Being a pawn in someone else’s game was never good news, “That message could have easily been fabricated! ” She snapped with naiveté. You smiled sadly.

“I think you pretty much know that I don’t do that. I never do that” you said, tone brimming with confidence, “Remember, you once called me an unprofessional thug with anger issues? Well guess who’s exactly just that??” You added, “You’re not a reckless one, Clara. I know that. Don’t... let one bad client ruin your life, just don't”

Silence followed you soon after, sending you in to spirals of concern. Yet, it was evident you did your best. And waiting with bated breath seemed worthwhile, when Clara released finally Batman from her grasp. Falling on to the ground, you watched him gasp for air. As much as you longed to be there by his side, you merely kept standing, resolute in protecting his identity and your relationship with him. You stood as if he meant very little for you. Painful as it was, it had to be done. Yet, it did not stop you from smiling with relief. 

“Here you are, getting away from death once again” you heard Clara say, as you found her looking at you with a smug expression, “Wait!” She paused, her smile disappearing, “ If I shot you…” she said, pointing at you, “…then…why aren’t you bleeding?”

Standing up slowly, you pulled up your t-shirt, revealing the black bulletproof vest, with the bullet still intact. Mouth slightly parted, Clara certainly appeared surprised. Upon seeing her reaction, you were certainly relieved to have listened to Alfred Pennyworth’s careful instructions earlier. You were relieved you actually listened.

“Loyalty has its perks, you were right” You said with a smile. You sensed Bruce looking at you, pleased. And if Alfred was there, he would not hesitate to offer a prideful nod.

Clara chuckled, before walking towards the now-groaning Emilio. And truthfully, you did not mind.Bad blood was never a necessity between the two of you. Regardless of all that happened, regardless of her attempts to wipe your existence off the face of the earth, your eyes could never put in a pair angry glasses when it came to Clara. Hurt you were, truly. But never wrath. And you were relieved. For you could empathize, for you respected her for who she truly was: a woman who took her job very seriously. Picking Emilio up, she looked over to you: “Everything aside…” she began, “I meant what I said...” she said, “...it has been an honor knowing you. But...it’s up to you to believe me” she added whilst shrugging. All you could do was to nod. For it seemed the most appropriate. And with a sudden cloud of smoke bursting before you, she and Emilio disappeared.

“Bruce!” You breathed worriedly, dashing towards Batman helping him slowly get back up. For finally, you were free to feel relieved for him. Breathing deeply, he looked you straight in the eyes through his cowl: “Are-Are you oka-”

He was cut off, as you decided to kiss him with utmost passion.

This kiss, it encompassed relief. Relief to find him alive and out of death’s reach. It encompassed of your guilt, of your inability to assist him sooner. And by his enthusiasm kissing you back, a rush of excitement coursed through you. Especially when you came to the realization you not just kissing Bruce Wayne, you were also kissing Batman. And that was not a common occurrence. Shrieking Police sirens from downstairs pulled both of you away. Given the sounds coming from inside the building, you knew there would be police company.

“Go...” You said to him, “...it’s okay” “You sure?” He inquired deeply, to which You nodded. “Absolutely...I can handle it” And you certainly were confident about it.

The roar of thunder surprised you, signaling the hasty arrival of cold showers, descending from the dark clouds that now had completely taken over the skies. Looking up, you smiled as the continuous drops refreshed your face.

“Well, whaddaya know?” you began, as you turned to look back at him “…it’s-” Only to find he had disappeared, “….raining”.

Amused once again by his signature move, You smiled to yourself, “So cool…” you muttered, looking over your shoulder the moment the rooftop door suddenly flew open, as a group of policemen finally swarmed out with John Blake’s familiar face leading them.

Though the clear skies were serene, the clouds truthfully seemed to have actually brought rains of hope in disguise. For finally, all was well for you. With an non washable smile on your face, you indulged in the rain for as long as adulthood permitted you to.

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

Gotham city, yet again declared its intention to never rest, and the Gotham Police was clear proof. But as you sat across John Blake’s desk, you were certain of the fact at least your heart could rest easy tonight. And you were grateful.

“Thanks for this by the way…” you said, gently pulling the neckline of the gray hoodie you had on. The rains of hope were refreshing, yet you were drenched by the end. Thus, the gray hoodie that was lent to you was a life savor.

“Oh, Officer Langdon had a spare one so..”

Blake replied casually, before looking over at Nina Langdon. You also looked over at her with surprise. Working on her police reports with diligence, she was the epitome of bad-assery in your eyes.

“You’re welcome” eyes meeting yours, Nina said coolly with a smile. Relieved, an inaudible “Thank You” escaped your lips as your head slightly bowed involuntarily. Nodding back, her eyes quickly move towards Blake’s, her smile growing larger. And you were immediately reminded of the visit from last time.

“I know…” You began softly, forcing Blake to look back at you, “…it’s not my place but…” you added, as he leaned forward with concern “I’ve been tracking some serious sparks between the two of you since my first time here…” you stated. And to your relief, Blake chuckled, making John chuckle, “…please tell me something’s going on-”

“Oh yeah there is…” John said, “…for sure” He confirmed with a nod.

“AHA!” You snapped your fingers victoriously, “So I DO have the sense. Thank goodness” you laughed alongside him. As the laughter subsided, you took a deep breath: “You were the real hero today, Officer…” you uttered, crossing your legs, “…I mean, if it weren’t for the recording…” you breathed in,  “…it would have been one hell of a bloody evening…”

“Yeah…but …" he began, “I don’t know if I can use this against Henderson” a downcast expression clouded his face. Your eyebrows furrowed as you suppressed a sudden yawn.

“What do you mean?”

“You kidding right? An Officer recording a conversation through eavesdropping?” His eyes questioned your sanity, “ Wouldn’t exactly go well with our case…”

“Oh yeah…” a trace of enthusiasm left your system as you nodded. How naive you were to even assume this would be child’s play, “…and I bet the CCTV cameras had something to catch” you muttered, slowly coming to the disappointing realization. You may have escaped death. But the root of all danger, the man with the power and the riches, would be left unaffected. As if nothing significant occurred.

“I’m sorry this was a dead end,Ma’am” Blake said sadly. The vibration of your phone urged you to look down, seeing the text brought a smile. A comforting smile. “Not entirely” you replied, looking back at him, “I mean, We know who planned it all, right?And the assassin will have no business with me anymore..so…” you paused, “…not all hope is lost” Smiling warmly, you slowly got up, “You saved many lives today, that counts. Thank you...for everything, Officer Blake”

Officer Langdon stood next to Blake, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Looking at her hand, he turned back to you with a smile full of content. Fortunate you were truly to be arrested by him that fateful evening. Fortunate you were to have him believe in you. You were truly fortunate.

Standing by the entrance of the precinct, you breathed in deep. A smile was inevitable the moment your eyes caught the sight before you. Dressed in a fine suit as always, Bruce Wayne leaned against his Black Lamborghini as he waited for you late at night. With the streets almost empty at that hour, you were truthfully quite relieved to find him there. And admittedly, the sight of him instantly grabbed you by the hand, leading you to the very first morning when he showed up this way.

“You clean up pretty good, Mr. Wayne” You jested, slowly walking towards him. He smiled: “Part of the job, I guess” he responded which drove you to a chuckle, “Let’s go home”

A faint camera shutter sound intruded your ears, capturing your attention. Looking to your left, you spotted a young, scrawny looking man shyly scurrying away with a camera phone in hand. What photo did he take? A part of you longed to know, however the other greater part did not seem to care, for you truly were not in the shape to mind at all.

Getting in to the vehicle, memories that still seemed fresh revisited you. That first conversation, getting your hand treated, accidentally having your poor heart stirred. Leaning against the passenger seat, a luxurious sense of comfort brought out another yawn from you.

“I gotta say…” Bruce began, starting the engine, “The vest, I really did not see that coming”

“Hmmmm” you hummed, occupied in the comfort with your eyes closed. “But really, that was very clever of Alfr-”

His words were faint, growing even softer. For you were a willing victim to the exhaustion , which was effortlessly brought out by the comfort of an expensive leather car seat.

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

Erik Henderson was impatient, and it certainly showed. With his silk robes moving around, he paced from one corner of his bedroom to the other with speed. For along with impatience came disappointment.

“Is the girl here yet?? Where the fuck are they?”

He snarled loudly, when he sat on one of armchair. As for the Bruiser, he was promised the deed would be done tonight, with the result presented tomorrow morning. But until then, it did not hurt for him to engage in some early celebrations. Preferably with the company of his usual lineup of high end call girls. However, they were late.

Along with his ill temper and lack of appreciation to his wife, infidelity was high on the list. And tonight, his body was ready with much enthusiasm. He was ready to feel like a man. Ready to indulge in the sight of the women pleasure one another, only to pleasure him soon after. Still, they were late.

“Apologies! Mr. Henderson”

His eyes to shot up by the sound of a brunette woman. She stood by entrance of his room wearing a trench and beige heels, her full lips and big eyes growing distinctive as she began to walk towards him. Henderson raised his eyebrows:

“Wait a minute!” He said, as she approached him, “You’re not the girl I asked for ...” he said, rising from the chair angrily, “Why aren’t you answering me, you bitc-ARGH!”

Henderson cried out loud, when he realized the woman grabbed him by the arm, only to twist it effortlessly, switching to grip his neck tightly before she stabbed his stomach with a small knife. With his defenses weakened and knife still in stomach, he was lowered back to his chair. However, her hand did not leave his neck.

“Wh-” Henderson began breathlessly, “Who the fuck are you?” He inquired.

“Perhaps this...might jog your memory” the woman said, as she proceeded to wear a black mask, that shaped like a skull. Eyes widened, Henderson just could not fathom what he just witnessed.

“Alpha!?” He breathed. “Indeed, I am…” Clara  replied, now in that familiar robotic voice. “You’re…” he stuttered, “…you’re a wo-”

“Ugh!” She shook her head,“Save me the sexist bullshit” she added annoyingly, whilst taking off the mask,“Looks like you were never gonna pay for our services, huh?” She inquired, “And I bet ...” she said, her free hand going through his chair while the knife was still intact, “….you have an alarm for the police to show up, hmmm?” She raised her eyebrows, finally discovering his mobile phone, “Heh! Just what I thought...” She remarked with a chuckle. So the Bruiser was right all along.

Speechless and injured, Henderson only could hyperventilate weakly. Clara smiled at him coldly. Funny how the tables have been turned. Funny how the man once was powerful now reeked of sheer desperation.

“I knew You’ve always been bad, Mr.Henderson” she began, “…but THIS? This disrespect? is just unforgivable. So…here’s what we’re gonna do…” She added, menace evident in her tone while she twisted the knife harder into his stomach, that sent him screaming, “You and I…we are gonna take a little trip… out of Gotham”

Fear translated in to Henderson’s quivering lips, “For-For h-how long?”

“Oh….” Ready to show her true colors, Clara Bennett flashed an evil grin, “…indefinitely”

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

The blue hour greeted your fluttering eyes gently the next morning. Stretching lazily, you felt your presence on a bed. It seemed the car seat was full of comfort it sent you to the deepest slumber. The blue hour appeared more graceful at the Wayne Penthouse. It was indeed quite the beauty. But the beauty was intensified the moment your eyes glimpsed upon the man laying beside you.The man who gazed long enough for you to smile shyly. 

“I dozed off last night huh?” You inquired, your tone rife with sleepiness.

He nodded gently. Pressing your face against the pillow, embarrassment took control. The thought of Bruce Wayne carrying your sleeping figure all the way to bed was more than you could imagine. What if you snored? What if you drooled? Oh! The horror!

“I’m sorry...” you mumbled, looking at him. However, he shook his head.

“Don’t need to...” he replied, his breathy tone sending shivers down your spine. You raised your eyebrows: “Shouldn’t you should be sleeping?” you inquired playfully, whilst laying on your side.

“Don’t want to...” He said, moving closer to you.

His tone may have been gentle, yet it did not mean he was not confident about it. And the moment you felt his lips press against yours, that confidence suddenly had more reason. Kissing him back, you indulged it as you would indulge your morning coffee. Even better. His kiss at dawn was a gentle fire, that was lit to spread warmth around a once cold and lifeless room, to give it the life it once had. His kiss was also a reminder of what you needed. A need that was urgent. Pulling away gently, you glanced upon the surprised expression in his face. You could empathize why, and you were surely were not planning to disappoint.

Maintaining his gaze, you dipped your hands under the white sheets, stripping yourself off your sweatpants and underwear as fast as you could. He was certainly fascinated as you tossed the sheet aside, only to slowly straddle him, wearing nothing but the gray hoodie. A faint gasp left you when your naked mound made subtle contact with his shorts. It caused friction. More importantly, it caused sheer arousal that stimulated the entirety of your senses. Seeing him so calm beneath you, it certainly was a pleasurable sight. Balancing yourself over the mattress with one hand, you were surprised at how you managed to pull down his shorts with ease, receiving his full cooperation to remove it completely. You were calm, yet daring this morning.

The sight of Bruce draw in his shaky breath as you slowly sank into his abundantly erect manhood caused weakness in your knees. However, you had to be strong. Your damp opening welcomed him whole, as you finally sat with comfort. Finally becoming one, you stretched yourself, pulling your hoodie off, leaving you completely bare. With your hands resting on his bare chest, you permitted the gentle blue morning filter wash over you when you began to roll your hips in slow rhythm. For you were a lazy rider, mounted on a horse who took you home with relaxation. For you were both relaxed, for you were both calm. This morning, it need not be a passionate race that needed a speedy finish. It was merely just two lovers on a slow journey, intimate and brimming with emotion.

Amidst the breathy moans exchanged between the two, Your eyes conversed with his. You told him how indebted you were to him in every way. You stressed how you wished every second with him was longer than the others. You apologized for every single moment you hurt him without your knowledge. He acknowledged them all, surprising you as he sat up in a flash. Wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers explored your bare back, feeling its curves before he proceeded to envelope his lips in yours in a slow, yet passion inducing kiss. He kissed you with a mission. As if he longed to fulfill your wish, as if he was on a fierce attempt to slow down time. The manner his tongue embraced your own, certainly was a display of how this pleasure was to be indulged in the slowest, possible manner.

And it certainly meant taking one’s sweet time.

Distracted with his kisses, you were even unaware of his right hand roaming over to cup your left breast. In the midst of the morning chill, he warmed it with his generous palm, his thumb gently running over the now erect bud. The fact he savored this act slow, roused you even further. Shivering moans exited your lips the moment his delicious mouth replaced his thumb, latching on to it. The manner of which he suckled it, the manner he tasted it with passion, provided a new form of life within you. Kissing his head frantically, you continued to moan. You adored this man, you could not deny it. In fact, you could burst into tears by the thought of it. With his lips now placing gracious kisses around the softness of your breast, sparks of fire began to spread. Your fingers traced over the strangle marks on his neck, causing your lips to quiver with emotion.

Kissing his neck with determination, you hoped you would not inflict more pain upon him ever again. He heard your hopes, as his own lips frantically looked for yours to kiss you once again. Surprise was clearly the main role this morning. Your eyes widened the moment he quickly turned, flipping you back to bed, hovering over you.

Holding on the headboard, Bruce continued to move inside of you, frustratingly slow. His soft breathy moans blessed your ears, while his finger felt your sensitive nub at your opening, providing ample stimulation to throw your head back and feel the headboard behind you. He breathed in your name religiously, urging you to look at him. He spoke to you in hushed tones. He swore to protect you always, no matter what may come his way. He swore with such passion and desperation.

You believed him, with all your heart you longed to. However, you were also realistic. This was all on the brink of passion. For truthfully, Life never was always kind to everyone who walked this earth. Exceptions would always exist, even where he could not show up. And you did not take them to heart. Not one bit. For you knew better. As he buried his face on your neck, adorning it with kisses, that was when you decided, deep in your heart, to make your own promise.

Blinded by passion or not, you swore. Your swore to be at your best, and keep yourself safe. And whatever trouble may announce its arrival, he would never blamed for it. Never ever. For he was no god. He was only a man. And he was yours.

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

Hues of yellow infused with the blue as the sunlight secretly crept into the penthouse. It brought more color. But nothing could replace the magic of the blue hour, and you were grateful to have made great use of it this morning. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you slowly put the pants back on, whilst the gentle yellow light grazed over your naked torso. Bruce’s hand stroked your shoulder blades, surprising you even further when you felt his blessed lips on the lower back. Biting your lip shyly, you proceeded to dress yourself with the gray hoodie once more. But in fact, butterflies still managed to flutter within you. If only words existed for you to describe the effect this man had on you, they would be used fervently. But since there were none, you knew you would fail to do him justice. The value you held for him was beyond all measure. And that was why you were reminded of what you longed to tell him before:

“Bruce?”

“Hmmm?”

Lazy hums escaped Bruce when you turned to his reclined figure in bed. Sitting crossed legged, nervousness washed all over. You wished for a distraction. You wished to remain in his arms a bit longer. But this was mandatory, thus a deep breath was a necessity:

“I got a job offer...from Hudson’s”

You said. Surprised, Bruce slowly sat up.

“The HR company?”

To which you nodded slowly, “Yeah…And I think…” you paused, “I think I’m gonna take it”

You watched him slowly process the information he just received. It was evident with his concerned expression. “You’re… leaving Wayne Enterprises?”

He breathed in inquiry. You froze. For that sentence simply forced your heart to clench tightly. And the fact those words exited his lips in an innocent manner, made it truly worse. Nostalgia hit you violently in the head. After an entire decade of devoting one’s life to this company, it would seem unthinkable. Yet, decisions such as these were not for the faint hearted. And you certainly were not one. 

“Yes I am…” you admitted, “But not right away…” you quickly added, moving closer to him, “…I still have a lot to do, like cover for Lillian during her leave, and If I am leaving, I’m gonna have to train whoever will be taking my place…I just…” you paused, “I just wanted to let you know…before I accept it”

Your clenched heart remained so, as silence filled the room. His doe-eyed expression was clear as day, taking in the news: “So…” he began, staring at you, “…It’s finally happening, huh?” He muttered.

Exhaling deep, you smiled softly: “I’ve been holding onto this company for so long cause of loyalty...that I didn’t even think of my own career…” you said, “But…after I met you, everything is starting to make sense, everything I need to do is coming to me” you continued, “So, If I leave… I can finally do what I’m really good at”

There was no mirror, yet you could feel your own eyes sparkle with excitement by the mere thought of it. You could imagine it already, walking over to Lucius Fox, handing in your notice of resignation. And you could certainly imagine his response as he would smile with a nod: “I understand” He would say, with a silent exchange of understanding for it was clear you were doing the right thing. You could imagine it all. Blinking that future away, you looked at Bruce:

“And if I leave…” you said, “I don’t have to question my liberties anymore, especially when I think about us...” you paused, breathing deeply, “If that’s what you really want. Cause…” you added as you bravely cupped his face, “…that’s what I want”

When silence overpowered the atmosphere, you grew concerned. But before you could make your way down that path, Bruce expressed his opinion by leaning forward with a loving kiss. A loving kiss that encompassed everything: His acknowledgement, his excitement, and even a taste of sadness.

“Well...” he breathed into your lips, “As much as I’m going to miss seeing you at office-” You chuckled, “You rarely get to see me unless you come by-” Chuckling back, he nodded, “Point made”. Concerned, you looked directly at him. “You upset?” You inquired, to which he immediately shook his head. “Actually…” he smiled, “I’m proud of you. The way you truly want to go far for what you really need, you inspire me. You give me hope” he added, “And yes! I do want this” holding both of your hands, he stressed, “So it’s definitely worth it” You gulped, as you realized that your heart had more to reveal that expected. Especially when you saw him show this much of enthusiasm. With a heartbeat strong enough to penetrate through your entire being, you began: “Bruce…” you paused, “That day when you bailed me out, I got a Life Sentence”

Suddenly, that smile of his disappeared with concern. To which you could only smile wider with amusement.

“I got a Life Sentence, because you stole my heart” you added, “And that’s a Sentence I was willing to take on. That’s a Sentence I could never get over.” You said, “I know, there will be a day…where you and I can walk hand in hand in public, with nothing to fear. We won’t have to worry about our reputation or our safety. I know that day will come soon” you continued, hope filled in your tone, “ But until then, I’m willing to do anything. I’m willing to be quiet, I’m willing to pretend, I’m willing to let the whole world believe I’m minding my own business, when I’m actually happily minding my own business…with you” holding his hands tightly, you spoke with adoration, “Cause given the current circumstances, I am not gonna give a shit about what everyone is gonna think, or about showing off. I just wanna be happy. And being by your side is one important factor of it. That’s it…” you took a deeper breath, “I love you, Bruce” you spoke in an emotional tone, “And the more time passes,  I think I find it harder to deny that…”

Letting it all out, never did anything feel this taxing on you. Especially as you kept looking into his beautiful eyes that were a journey in itself to embark on.

“I wish you know…” Bruce began, “…how it frightens me to make promises” he said softly. The pain in his voice was evident. The pain he seemingly had held in all these years. You nodded fast.

“I know, i know…” you admitted in honesty, “Being in your…position, I don’t blame you.  Not one bit. You don’t have to say anything, Bruce” you said for you truly meant it.

“But…” he began, holding your hands once more, “You will know in time...you will know how much I love you. Cause I do”

Jaw dropped, suddenly your clenched heart loosened up completely. His face formed a puzzled expression. “What?” “You just said it...” You said, chuckling when he finally came to the realization of what he just admitted. Euphoria, rushed though you as you covered your mouth with emotion. For ever since the day you fell for him, those words were what you always dreamed of hearing.

“Wow! You love me...” you voice broke, as tears formed within you, “…you do love m-” mumbled last words did not seem to matter when Bruce pulled you in for another gentle kiss. He loved you. Bruce Wayne he loved you. Unfathomable yet real. Immersed in his arms in an embrace, you rubbed his back with love.

“Don’t worry…” you assured, “I know what I’m getting into. And I’ll be here…” you paused, “…for a while. Okay…maybe even longer than that” you jested, as he began to laugh out loud. The sight of his laughter was what you cherished. And what you hoped to provide for him as long as you could.

You fixed your hair hurried upon seeing Alfred Pennyworth enter the room with morning tea. The fact he found you in bed with Bruce made you embarrassed.

“Sorry Alfred...” you muttered shyly. Alfred however, never looked this pleased. “Never apologize for putting a smile on Master Wayne’s face, Miss” He said, as he placed the tray on the bedside cupboard “And mine...”

A trickle of warmth engulfed your heart, to the point you felt your nose itch with the urge to cry once again. Scrunching up your nose, you smiled. Blessed it was truly to be this loved.

“Apparently,Henderson is missing”

“WHAT?” You and Bruce both inquired, looking at Alfred.

“That’s what it says in the papers” He responded, waving the newspaper in his hand.

Was it Clara’s doing? Was it her way of acquiring revenge? You could not help but wonder as Alfred began to read the mentioned article to Bruce. And then again, how ironic. Erik Henderson strongly wished for you to disappear, yet ended up disappearing himself.

The bedside cupboard beside you vibrated. Taking the phone, you found a text from Allison:

lol…did you see this? 

Below the text was a link attached. A link that directed you to an article at a familiar website: wheresdabat.com

Your eyes widened by the sight of the photo that was above the article. A photo that showed you standing outside the Police Station with Bruce from last night. The article was written as the following:

Just when we were filled with hope of a possible spark between Batman and the Bruiser, we run into another hurdle. For here we can see the Bruiser’s employer, Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne arrived to her legal rescue once again last night. What could it be? A Love Triangle perhaps? Or are we just kidding ourselves completely??

Amused laughter erupted from your throat, causing Bruce and Alfred to look at you.

“Everything okay?” Bruce inquired.

“Yeah, its just...” you smiled, “It looks like the name Bruiser is gonna stick around for a while” you said, showing them the website article.

“Well…” Bruce began, “… it does have a ring to it” he added with a smile. 

“You know what?” You looked at them, “ I like it” You chuckled, “ I used to hate that name, so so much. But not anymore. Guess it’s my own alias now.” you said jokingly.

It was evident it would be a scar you would have to wear for a while. But in truth, it was a scar you would gladly wear. For that scar, it bailed you out, it brought you the liberation you desired, and it led you to love. Thus, you were not remorseful at all. No wonder you like it so.

Excitement bubbling within you in great speed, you began to form a text reply to your friend:

Fuck!

You sent in an instant.

FUCK!!!

It certainly did not take long for Allison to respond:


Oh no ...what is it, Sweetie? I’m sorry but I thought it was just hilarious...

Chuckling, you texted back:

No it’s not that. Ali, I think...

Over excitement led to accidentally hitting ‘send’ before you could finish typing.

What ? What is it? You’re freaking me out here…

Smiling upon seeing Allison’s reply, you looked up. Never did you imagine the sight of Bruce and Alfred causally having their morning tea would bring you such joy. With your smile still intact, you replied with the most happiness and the utmost confidence: 


I think it’s officially official with me and Bruce Wayne!!!


——————THE END—————————

Another Author’s Note: Thank You for all you lovely people who decided to join me in this journey on Bail Out! When I took a break and started planning this story, I never thought I would receive this much love. Truthfully this is one of the favorites I have written and with the most effort and hard work. So your love meant so so much! My heart is literally heavy now. You are all awesome! Love you all! Keep being awesome!

Tagged: @tealaquinn​ @ladyerina​ @kittenlittle24 @wholesumm @everyday-imfangirling​ @lucy-roo​ @works-of-fanfiction​ @bale-is-a-babe @badsext​  @maddistyles17 @truly-insatiable @gooseyhouse​ @artsymaddie​ @quarterback-5 @mamooska8 @strangerliaa​ @jensen-impala​ @lilyofthesword​ @woodencupcake​ @fonduebitches @soullesstaco​ @spicybellinger​ @marvel-lously​ @glitterypinkkitty​ @danceyreagan​​ @barikawho​​ @lostgirl0020​ @diogodxlot​​ @elena-mayfair​​ @xxdearlybeloved​​ @shewearsprada​​

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[heartofsnark]

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Twelve): Your Demon, Never Leaving

Notes: Soooo, its been a minute, like I said, been kind of sick. And I've been sitting on this chapter for a while, I was gonna wait until I finish the next. But decided, fuck it. We're still rocking around the angst train with this and I'm sure some of you are like, when is Johnny gonna be let out of brain jail and the answer is soon, next chapter, promise. Our girl just needs some time to process and what better way to do so, then to get into a fist fight and talk to some folks.

Word Count: 11873

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and mentions, bit of blood and violence, general angst, some talks of sex but no actual in chapter sex. 

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

V finds herself in Westbrook next, kicking herself for forgetting that Wakako never paid for the Dorsett job. The sun’s barely been up but an hour by the time she makes it to Jig Jig street, the merc preoccupying her time by pouring more energy drinks from a vending machine into her thermos. A quick hack used to get them for free. 

She leans against the wall of the pachinko parlor while she waits, someone passing by offers to sell her drugs and a joytoy tries to flirt with her in the meantime. Both swiftly denied and the merc jumps when she sees the parlor lighting up, Wakako likely already tucked in her back room. She slides on her mask as discreetly as she can before she walks across the blue tiled floors and past the desk clerk, who shoots her a dirty look. 

Past a beaded curtain, she sees Wakako at her back desk. A slick black and gold color scheme that seems completely at odds with the gaudy vibrancy of Jig Jig street. Wakako is one of the older fixers, V would wager to guess she’s at least Padre’s age, with long gray hair pulled back off her face and cold shrewd eyes. 

“Well, well,” the fixer greets, “who do I spy but V, in my humble parlor no less.” 

“Here in the flesh, never did answer my call,” V can’t help but sign, thankful her bitter smile is hidden behind her mask. 

“I must have been busy, I’m sure.” 

“Of course.” 

“So, what brings you here?” Wakako asks, tapping her red nails across the wood of her desk. 

“Last gig, said I had to swing by to grab my payment, remember?” 

“I don’t forget such things, V. Here is your reward, it comes with a fairly ample bonus. Go to Cassius Ryder in Watson, he’ll weave you a derma-imprint with smart-gun compatibility, a Tyger Claws special. You did good work, you and that… friend of yours.” 

“Appreciate it,” V signs, feeling her muscles tighten at the mention of Jackie. Then the money comes in, over three thousand, not bad at all. But, she could still use a bit more before she pays back Vik. If she completely drains her bank account for him, Vik will throw a fit. 

“And V,” Wakako calls out before the merc can leave, “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for your calls from now on.” 

V simply nods, unsure of how to take the comment as she leaves the pachinko parlor. Wakako is hard to read, that much she knows. Everything the woman says seems to drip with poison and sarcasm. She could wish V could morning and the merc would wonder if it’s a veiled death threat. Kindness and cruelty sound the same coming from Wakako. Meaning the statement could be a cruel taunt regarding V’s ruined reputation or it could be genuine, that somehow the merc has built back some of it. She has been going hard the past three or four days, refusing to do much else. Deciphering Wakako will only drive her crazy, V determines, leaving Jig-Jig street and climbing in her stolen MaiMai. 

The fight in Kabuki is worth at least two grand, meaning if V’s lucky enough she can finish it up and pay Vik back while still leaving around… two grand in her bank account. Not much, but she’s worked with less. If she loses, she’ll just have to make it back in more scanner jobs, she supposes. Or start selling some stuff. 

She parks near the coordinates Coach Fred sent her. V pulls off her mask, it could be considered unfair, fighting with a face cover. When she gets out of the car, she catches a flash of something in the side mirror, breath catching in her throat. Thinking it’s a flash of dark hair and a beard, think it’s him, she looks again. But only sees her reflection, granted, she looks like she’s already been fucked up in a fight. 

Her hygiene has… suffered during this ordeal. Nose bruised to hell and back, looking a little crooked she realizes. There’s blood and dirt on her face, the worse of it down her lips and chin. She smells like sweat, blood, and still vague hints of stagnant water. Wakako probably smelled V before seeing her. 

The merc first takes a deep breath, grabs her nose and cracks it back into place, setting it as pain shoots through her face and tears blur her vision. . She curses, giving herself a moment before she goes looking through her bag for wet wipes or antiseptic ones, something to give herself a quick whore’s bath. But finds nothing, her supplies needing a restock. 

In a pathetic attempt at something, she spits onto her hoodie sleeve and tries to scrub some blood off with the drool. Only managing to smear the dirt and blood into a new pattern. As far as she knows, no one she cares about will be at the fight. She’ll shower before she sees Vik. For now, she’ll just be gross. Too exhausted and overwhelmed to care about how strangers view her hygiene.  

She takes three heavy drinks of energy drink and makes her way to the feet, down a set of stairs that run next to the overpass, walking across cracked cement through patch work metal shacks. Up a little yellow ladder and climbing over air conditioning units. Even getting to the fight has to be an ordeal it seems. 

V can see the backs of people, on one of the other rooftops involved in this little parkour endeavor. A crowd gathered around and she has to assume that’s where the fight is. A little set of metal steps up to the slightly higher platform. When she walks up the stairs she can see the crowd is around a clearing on the roof; two identical men squaring off. She half expected a Tyger Claw gang member, given the area is their turf. But the men look fairly nondescript, twins who box, she supposes. 

“This is pointless, I know where I’m gonna strike before I do it,” one of the men say, fist raised to his brother, though the wording seems off. Of course, one would know where they’re going to strike. Brain damage too many blows to the head, maybe. 

“Typical, I knew I’d say that.” 

She raises an eyebrow but shakes her head, and clears her throat. The men straighten up, two pairs of brown eyes staring straight at V. They’re older than her, which isn’t saying much, with bald head and implants around their heads. Completely identical, only thing to separate them out is their clothing; one is a tee shirt and the other in a tank top. 

“Was told I have a fight here,” V signs, “so, which one of you is it?” 

“Me,” the men speak in unison and V blinks, confused. 

“Didn’t know it was a tag team fight, but alright, who’s up first?” 

“No, no,” the one in the t-shirt waves his hand, “you don’t get it. That body and his one, I’m the same person.” 

“I’m seeing shit then?” 

“I used to be twins, which you could probably guess. The twins had a close bond, but they wanted to be closer, stronger. “

“So they installed neural oscillation synchs. And now they’re… well.” 

“Me, one person, two bodies,” the twins finish in unison again. 

And here she is, two persons, one body. Whether she likes it or not. The whole tale is horrific to the merc, unable to understand why anyone would willingly undergo something like that. She has a twin, Eira, and despite everything that’s happened, V loves her sister dearly. But, she can’t imagine ever wanting to merge themselves together, to want to lose herself. Its part of why what’s happening with the chip is… horrifying. She doesn’t want to be something else, someone else. V is far from perfect, but, she’s her. As many times as she’s wished to be better, she’s always wanted to still be her. 

These two willingly signed up for the horror show, V’s enduring, just split across two bodies. They wanted to be someone else, to morph into some new amalgamation of who they once were. 

“So, I’m fighting you both at once?” She asks, trying to get out of her own head, to focus on the here and now. 

“My bodies do everything together. Everything,” the pair speak with finality and V can’t help but smirk at the implication. How far does everything go?

“Everything? Even in the bedroom?” She signs, waggling a brow and can feel the immediate annoyance. 

“I have one girlfriend for both bodies, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Shared between both.” 

And it takes everything in her not to laugh, a smile pulling at her lips and face flushed at how stupid it is. 

“So, what. she gets a daily double teaming?” 

“No. She’s with one body from Monday through Wednesday and the other Wednesday through Sunday. Bitch.” 

“You take shifts?!” V bursts, the entire ridiculous nature of it is exactly what she needed, cracking up at their whole situation. 

And maybe it’s mean to laugh, but she can’t help it, holding her stomach as she cackles. The insult more than worth it to know these two have their girlfriend on a sex schedule, that they take shifts for fucking. They have fuck shifts, how is she meant to handle that information?

“We doing this or what?” The twins yell, obviously not amused by her outburst. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she signs as she comes down, “but we’re doubling this, four grand.” 

She was already at a size disadvantage, the twins not huge, but taller than her. And now they’re outnumbering her as well, it’s already high risk, so she needs higher reward. The twins consider her deal for a moment, before nodding to each other. 

“Fine, see no problem there. So, can we get started?” 

“Show me what you got.” 

And three pairs of fist raise. The twin the tee shirt moves towards her first and she steps up to meet his charge, swinging the first punch and knocking her knuckles into his head. And then she steps back, grin on her face. Its been a long time since she’s sparred, a good clean fight with just fists and no weapons, it feels good.

She throws another punch and misses, the same twin comes back in to hit her, but she connects another punch first. He staggers back, but swings at her, a hard pain wracking her jaw when he connects. V blocks the next swing and momentum makes him twist around, letting the merc get a cheap shot against his back. Then another as he twists then she connects a right hook to his jaw; three hits in rapid succession, he stumbles back. He hits the ground. Then the other twin comes charging. 

V throws a right hook into the force of his run, catching just the right way to make his nose bleed. She swings for a left jab but the tank top wearing twin ducks and steps back, the one in the t-shirt is back on his feet.  

Tank-top comes at her again, right fist hitting her temple and she throws her own in return, knuckles catching his ear. She misses with her left and he brings a knee up, knocking it into her chin, making her teeth clang together as she bites her tongue in the force. He swings another punch and she deflects with her left forearm, punching her right into his face. He falls back. 

T-shirt comes at her next and gets punched in the eye, blackening under her fist. She connects the next punch to the opposite cheek, knocking into his nose. He stumbles back and wipes blood from his nose. 

The other twin swoops in, he acts like he’s going to knee her again, then swings a fist and catches her already injured nose. Pain cracks through her, but she laughs and throws a punch in return, connecting two more hits against him. Twins switch out again, t-shirt twin kicking her in the gut before throwing three quick hits. Then he shoves her back, only for her to push back and throw two more punches. And he’s down. One half done, she turns her attention back to the twin in the tank top. 

He tries to keep distance from her and she waits him out, fist raised. And after a quick moment of dancing around each other, he runs at her. A punch to her head, a swing to his own, and she connects one more to his chest.  And he hits his knees. V stares for a moment, unsure if she really just won a bare knuckle fist fight against two grown men? 

“Stop, stop, I give up!” One twin yells and gets up, face bloody as he walks to the railing. V looks down at the other twin. 

“You got more fight in you or had enough like your brother?” 

“That ain’t my brother,” he yells as he gets up, “that’s me. Jesus, what’s so hard to understand?” 

One leans against the railing and the other sits on a table by a couch, each with fresh blood and bruises on their faces. She finds herself standing before them, mind still revisiting the twin’s dynamic and situation. Melding yourself with someone else, even someone so close, she can’t even imagine being that close to someone. Even her own sister, she has a strained relationship with. She’s going into this situation with the chip kicking and screaming. 

“Here, your winnings,” the twins eyes glow as they transfer four grand into V’s bank account. 

“Not bad at all.” 

“Don’t worry, there’s always the next fight,” one twin tells the other. 

“Stop talking to yourself!” 

V can’t help but smile at the odd exchange, “Thanks for the fight, it was fun just sparring for once, I’m V. By the way.” 

“Certo,” the one in the tee introduced himself. 

“Esquerdo,” the other chimes in. 

“I know I kind of razzed on you earlier, just your situation is… interesting to me,” she admits, genuinely a part of her just wanting to ask a bit more about it. The twins must not have been perfectly alike, not anyone is, then they melded together. She can’t help but think of the ghost in her head, the man she’ll meld into, the fear of it. 

“If you’re here to pry more into my sex life, piss off.” 

“No, no, not that. Do you two read each other’s thoughts?” She asks, Johnny responded to her thoughts in the subway, assuming it was him and not an exhaustion induced hallucination. 

“No. Same person. Same thoughts.” 

“If that weren’t the case, I’d be on schizoid meds.” 

“Yeah, be weird having someone else's thoughts in your head… Would drive anyone crazy. Speaking of, wasn’t that, I don’t know… scary.” 

“What?” 

“Melding together like that, becoming one person. Because like… you’re no longer you, right? You’re a new combo, wasn’t that terrifying, to lose yourself?” 

“Not really, everyone’s always becoming someone new. Brothers knew each other well enough, loved each other enough, they knew they didn’t mind becoming each other.” 

“Strange… no offense.” 

“Why you so curious about it?” 

“I don’t know,” she stumbles for a response that makes sense, can’t explain she’s thinking about the ghost in her head, “I got a twin myself, actually. Love her, but life took us to different places. Can’t imagine… becoming part her, part me.” 

“You don’t though, you just become something new, the best of both of you.” 

“Interesting, uh, I won’t hold you up any longer. See you around.” 

V heads off and makes her way back home, guzzling energy drinks along the way, stinging the new bite mark in her tongue. She passes by Barry’s apartment on the way to her own, she’ll grab a shower, she decides before she talks to him either. Showing up at a former cop’s doorstep covered in blood and sweat sounds like a bad idea. 

The merc strips down as soon as she’s in the privacy of her apartment and makes a beeline for the shower, Hot water a godsend even as it stings her cuts and bruises, the heat relaxing her tightly wound muscles and the ache in her head. Her eyes drifting shut, body relaxing. A blink that lasts a second, maybe a minute, or two too long. 

Then pain shoots through her tailbone as she crashes to the wet shower floor, falling right onto her ass. She curses beneath her breath and gets back onto her feet, finishing her shower quickly before she falls asleep again.  The energy drinks are cutting it less and less, three days without any sleep, other than long blinks. 

She checks her tongue in the mirror thankful the bite didn’t tear at her piercing, and sighs as she takes a look at herself. Still bruised, but no longer bloody or dirty, dark bags have formed under her eyes and she’s paler than before. Her headache has become a constant throb she can’t get rid of, ears irritated from the rub of her hearing aids, the pain in her joints is equal parts overexertion and neglecting her immunosuppressants, the familiar burn of her disease flaring up. 

If Vik and Misty see her like this she’ll never hear the end of it. It feels like lying as she grabs up her foundation and concealer. She laves on a heavier layer of makeup than she’d usually do, applying it until she looks a little more human, a little more awake and put together. After everything she’s put them through the last thing she needs is to cause them any more worry. 

V throws on some clothes and makes up a new fresh batch of her caffeine cocktail before she leaves out again, fiddling with her bullet pendant as she makes her way down the stairs. She knocks on Barry’s door, trying to get the neighbors attention. 

“Hey, you home?” She signs, turning the volume up a little on her translator, hoping he’ll hear. 

“Who is it?!” A rough voice yells out. 

“V, your neighbor, remember? We talked about rides, You were all worked up over the newest Mizutani. I said it was for flash-posers.” 

“Heh,” he chuckles behind the door, “you don’t forget a gonk thing like that.” 

“You gave me this look, I was about to run back to the Badlands right then and there.” 

The door finally opens, showing Barry, just as she remembers the older man. Dark crew cut, over a foot taller than her, with tattoos across his biceps. He leans against the door frame, looking down at her by necessity. 

“I remember, what do ya want?” 

“To talk, I know that’s what you need right now, even if you don’t realize it. I can’t turn back time or magically make everything okay, would if I could, promise. But.. if nothing else, I’m good for a chat, hear you out as best I can,  and make sure you know you’re not alone.” 

“Now hold on a sec,” he makes her pause, the heaviness of it taking him off guard, “we barely know each other, and you just rock up here talkin’ to me about my problems? Where’d you get the idea something with me was up? You watchin’ me? Somebody send you?”

“You got me, your buds from the station asked me to drop in. I figured, why not, decent guy even if he’s got shit taste in rides,” she signs, with a teasing smile. 

“Come back just to get your ass kicked?” His grin makes her snicker, “man, you really know how to cheer a guy up. Maybe those two asshats really are worried about me… All right, come on in. You wanna talk, let's talk.” 

Barry leads her into the apartment, it’s layout a little different than her own. Most notably where her window stretches across the wall, he has none, with a couch against it instead. The apartment dark and gloomy without the sun being able to touch it, her boot knocks into an empty can, one of many. There’s trash across his floor, discarded takeout boxes, bottles, cans.  Has he left the apartment since she spoke with his friends? Has he locked himself up in here for the past three days? 

He sits down on the couch and V plops herself on the table in front of it, careful not to sit on his ashtray or nearly empty pizza box. She wants to be able to make eye contact and she knows human voices are far more comforting than AI ones, turning off her translator. 

“I lost someone, too,” she hates the scratch in her throat, the slight widening in Barry’s expression as he hears her speak for the first time, “he was my best friend, a good man.” 

“What do you mean ‘too’? Wait, this about Andrew? They… told you about him…”

“Yeah, I know it ain’t easy, losing someone like that.” 

 “Best bud I ever had… known him my whole life. Only person I could spill to without being judged.” 

“Take it Petrova and Mendez weren’t that great at listening?” She raises an eyebrow, Mendez seemed like a genuine dickhead, but Petrova was nice. Surely, she wouldn’t have minded hearing Barry out, given how worried she seemed. Barry shrugs his shoulders. 

“Petrova’s a decent gal, but she’s not good with this stuff. Mendez just doesn’t get it He thinks us blues need to be tough. Can bear the sight of a kid getting murdered? Born with pussy genes, according to him,” Barry tells her, the crestfallen expression telling her those are exact words from Mendez. 

“You told them about Andrew, though?” 

“Honestly? I thought about it a lot. Anyway… they don’t know everything. Better that way,” his soft nearly whispered tone tells her there’s more to this, something he doesn’t want them to know Or maybe he’s just like her and prefers to keep his cards close to his heart. 

“What exactly happened with Andrew? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Does it matter? Uh,” he rethinks when he looks at V’s face, “old age took him…. No wonder, seeing as he was only a few years younger than my grandma.” 

“I know it doesn’t make it hurt any less. But, Andrew had a long life with a good friend like you sticking by him through most of it. No better way to go, if you got to. And in Night City of all fuckin’ places? That alone deserves a fuckin’ monument.” 

That makes Barry smile, a soft laugh tumbling from his lips, “ashbox in a niche will have to do.” 

“So, was Andrew like a grandpa to you?” 

“Hm. Wouldn’t go that far. He was like… egh. I don’t know. A window into the past or… something. He reminded me of my gram-grams, about our little talks… time when everything had its proper place, y’know? He was the last living record of those times.” 

“He clearly meant a lot to you, it’s only natural losing him is gonna hurt. Mendez is full of shit, to be blunt. Life and loss is hard, really fuckin’ hard. And feeling that hurt doesn’t make you weak, makes you human.” 

Her throat feels tight as she speaks, each word making her feel more and more like a hypocrite. Preaching the importance of feeling out your hurt while hiding from her own. She can still taste gunmetal, feel the weight of the barrel on her tongue as she willed herself to pull the trigger. Talking a man off a ledge she tiptoed no more than a few hours before. And it’s not that she doesn’t mean what she says, but she can’t give herself the same kindness she affords him. 

“What if he’s right though?” Barry asks, eyes big with worry, “maybe my genes are soft? Don’t only the strongest survive?” 

“Losing people hurts. And that’s okay, doesn’t make you weak, and ignoring it don’t make you strong. If you felt nothing at all, then his loss wouldn’t have any meaning. You lost someone you cared about, who was there for you most of your life; anyone with a heart would be hurting right now.” 

“I guess… so. Thanks for the talk. I, uh, need time to take all this in.” 

“Alright, take care of yourself,” she stands from the table, “and if you need anything else, you know where to find me.” 

She leaves Barry’s apartment and lets out a soft sigh, rethinking what she told Barry, wondering if she handled it well. Taking in how it applies to her. The words she can easily speak to someone else, but not to herself. Feeling hurt doesn’t make her weak, just human. Painfully, disgustingly, revoltingly human.  

V shakes her head, making her way out of the apartment complex and taking the NCART down to Buran and Bradbury. Walking down the family little cluster of storefronts, pass strippers dancing in windows, where Gary the wannabe prophet sleeps on some abandoned filthy mattress, and into Misty’s store. Her heart jumping in her throat when she sees the older woman. 

“V!” Misty calls out, green eyes brightening and a breath of relief leaving her chest, “its been a minute, got worried about you.” 

“Nothing to worry about, just been, busy… Actually, wanted to see Vik, got a debt to pay back.” 

“Hmmm, c’mon then, I’ll walk you back.” 

“I think I know the way by now,” V signs with a raised eyebrow. Misty isn’t going to start babying her now, is she?  Sure, V got hurt and is in the shit right now, but that doesn’t make her any less of a grown adult. 

“You’re the first customer to walk in today and I’m bored out of my mind, just give me this,” Misty jokes and V feels bad for doubting her intentions, though there's still something in the way the older woman looks at the merc. More akin to a worrying mother than a friend. 

“Alright, whatever you want.” 

The two women leave out the back of Misty’s store and into the back alley, V searches for the bald little cat she pet last time she was here, but it’s gone now. Misty leads the way down the stairs to Vik’s clinic, the ripper doc in his usual spot at his desk. 

“Someone’s here to see you, Vik,” Misty announces as they walk through, the older man looking up to see V. A smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes pulls across his face, more of pity than happiness. 

“Hey, kid, how you’ve been?” 

“Getting by,” she shrugs, “more importantly, I got the eddies to pay you back.” 

“What is this?” He asks as she starts to transfer the seventy thousand. 

“Optics, mantis blades, and the launcher; all adds up. That’s the best estimate I could ge. If they cost more than that I-” 

“Hold onto ‘em,” he waves her off, “just in case. You need ‘em more than me.” 

“Not taking them to my grave, Vik, please, it’s the least I can do.” 

His jaw clenches, gaze dropping; “twenty-five thousand, I’ll won’t take a dollar more” 

“What? That’s not even half?” V blinks incredulously, can see Misty smiling at the exchange.

“Covers the mantis blades; you didn’t ask for the optics or launcher, seems fair to me.” 

“Even if I didn’t ask for ‘em, doesn’t mean they didn’t cost you a pretty penny.” 

“Not worried ‘bout it, spend the money on yourself.” 

“Vik, seriously, there’s no point in me keeping it.” 

“Six months is longer than you think, V,” his voices rises, a hint of frustration, “I’m not letting you throw that kind of cash away just because your-” 

And he stops himself, before he can says what they all know. Just because she’s dying. Her jaw clenches and she swallows hard. Trying to search for how to respond, how to deal with that. 

“I know you wanna pay him back, but Vik’s just trying to look out for you, V. Never hurts to keep some money in your account and besides, you’ve got way more than six months left in your,” Misty says, trying to smooth over everything. Her concern and worry always softer spoken than Vik’s. 

“It’s not just because I’m dying, you’ve done a lot for me over the years, want you to have something to show for it.” 

“That’s what friends are for, V.” 

“Fine, fine, never had to beg someone to take my money,” she jokes, sending a transfer for the twenty-five thousand instead.

“Other than that, how have you been?” 

“Already told you, getting through, not much to report.” 

V shrugs her shoulders again, wondering why he’d ask the same question twice. And she can the clench in Vik’s jaw, the somber downward pull on Misty’s expression. They don’t believe her. And she can’t blame them for it, because she knows its not true. 

“And how are you really feeling?” Misty asks, softly. 

“I… is there anyway we could talk about Silverhand and the chip?” 

“I’m no expert, but fire away, I’ll see what I can do.” Vik tells her. 

“I’m seeing him, I saw him, again. And I hear him, even without my hearing aids, is that? Is that normal, I none of this is fucking normal what am I talking about…” She rakes a hand through her hair, cleaning her jaw. 

“Well, that biochip is designed for users to communicate with constructs. It's just doin' its job. As far as hearing goes… Johnny’s in your brain, not your ears. You're deaf because the autoimmune disease destroyed your inner ear, but the Relic bypasses that and stimulates the auditory processing part of your brain like he’s actually there talking to you.” 

“So, my brain treats him like he’s real, even though he’s not?” 

“I mean, he is real, he’s a person,” Misty softly corrects, “just a person in your brain.” 

“He’s data on a chip,” Vik corrects Misty in return, earning an eye roll for his troubles. V can’t say she gives too much of a shit about the philosophical aspect, more just wanting Johnny not to choke her out. 

“He… tried to kill me,” V admits, both Vik and Misty’s eyes going wide. 

“What!?” 

“Oh… V.” 

“Tried to put my head through my window. It… he… felt real as anyone else. He wants to kill me, I think, I don’t know what to do.” V can feel her eyes stinging again, tears threatening to escape, as she finally puts her anxiety out into the world.

“Well... long as you don't give him control, can't do too much harm. 'Course that won't necessarily be possible after some time.” 

“And… what then?” 

“What do you say, we don’t let things get that far? Find a way to get rid of Silverhand and fast.” 

“What about his memories, why can I see them?

“You two share a brain now,” Vik says matter of fact and she wants to scream, “he has access to your senses, perceptions, even memories. Likewise, you get a look into his. After a while, won’t even know whose is whose.” 

“Right…” 

“V…” Misty says the merc’s name in a soft voice, “if you need to talk, we’re here for you. ” 

“I need to go,” V signs and shakes her head. 

She doesn’t want to deal with this. Hasn’t wanted to deal with it for days and she has no idea where she’s even going or what she’s going to do. But she hurries through the clinic gate and up the stairs, getting ready to cut through the backdoor of Misty’s shop. 

“V!” Misty yells out and grabs V’s shoulder, all too reminiscent of the merc’s exchange with Cecelia the night before. Women who’d be better off worrying about someone else, spending their time worried about V. 

“I can’t do this right now, Misty, I’m sorry.” 

“You can’t run yourself ragged, honey, you’ll kill yourself before the chip does.” 

“And is that really such a bad idea?!”  She blurts out without truly meaning too, at her ropes end, because she can’t do this anymore. 

“You don’t mean that, V.” 

“Why not? I can’t fuckin’ live like this! I haven’t slept in three days, I’m fuckin’ terrified that I’m gonna wake up and it’s not gonna be me!  That he’s gonna take over and kill me in my sleep or, or, if it’s not him, it’s gonna be his memories, his life, that I’m gonna lose a piece of me and not even know which one! I survived, but maybe… I shouldn’t have… ”

Her voice trails off, becoming choked and pathetic as a dam threatens to burst. Tears collecting in the corners of her eyes, threatening to break lose. But she doesn’t want to break down in front of someone. A few people in the alleyway give her side eyes, looking at her like she’s already lost her last scrap of sanity. 

“C’mon, V, we can talk more up on the roof, okay?” 

Misty wraps her hand around V’s, gently tugging the merc into the elevator. And V doesn’t have the energy to fight her, holding Misty’s hand in return and following along. The warmth and kindness of the touch sinking into her bones, making her squeeze tighter just to hold on to the small gesture of affection. As the elevator starts to shake and rattle upward, V can feel her limbs getting heavier, her exhaustion pushing her to lean her weight onto Misy. 

To the merc’s surprise, Misty doesn’t seem to mind her weight, doesn’t even flinch when V lays her head onto Misty’s shoulder. Instead she lays her own head over V’s for the short moment, short wispy hair tickling the shorter woman’s cheek.  Misty’s warmth and affection feels like a lifeboat, rather than the innocuous touch V knows it to be. 

The elevator comes to a stop and Misty pulls V up the stairs up to the roof. A place V has visited so many times with Misty, Jackie, and Vik. A cool September breeze rolling through, cooling V’s skin while the sun works to warm it. The two women sit in the little plastic lawn chairs that are put around a table. V feels like she’s sinking into it. She feels heavy and like she’s dragging her own weight. Her emotional outburst just compounding her physical exhaustion. 

“I meant what I said, V. That as long as your alive there’s still hope.” 

“Misty...I-” 

“I can’t imagine how hard this is, I don’t think anyone could. But… I don’t think it has to be this terrible hell, you think it is. Fate doesn’t act without reason and there has to be a reason for this, for all of it. But if you…end it all like that, you’ll never know.”

“You think this is fate…?” 

“I do, your soul and Johnny’s were brought together for a reason, I think you owe it to yourself and Johnny to find out why.” 

“So, what, everything that happened is fate, I’m supposed to blame fate for all of this, for the heist, for Jackie, for-?” 

“Better than blaming yourself, isn’t it?” 

The question takes the winds out of her sails for a moment. She’s never put much stock into fate and the idea that things are meant to be, meant to happen. It sounds ridiculous to her. That the fates or some mystical pull in the universe put them in that hotel, an excuse to take blame off her own shoulders, a way to avoid accountability. 

“I already had a bad feeling before you and Jackie left, the heist was on the anniversary of the tower going down, and it just happened to be Johnny on the chip. And theres your tarot reading… there’s more to this, V, I know there is. There has to be,” Misty tries to implore her to understand, to accept the idea that this was meant to be. And all at once V is reminded of something she’s wanted to forget. 

“I’m sending you something,” V says softly, watching Misty’s brow furrow as she sends her the image of that SID profile, that night her door wouldn’t unlock. 

“What is… is that?” 

“His SID data.” 

“How’d you get it?” 

“Night before the heist, I tried to unlock my apartment door. Wouldn’t work, mainteance guy comes down, says my SID chip is reading as someone else’s. Sends me the data, it’s him… How the hell does that happen? We hadn’t gone near Konpeki yet, I… “ 

And she’s said it, put out that maybe there is a little something to this fate thing, that she doesn’t want to admit, doesn’t want to acknowledge. How cruel can the world be if this was all intended? But, she can’t quite come up with a logical reason for it. It could just be the mother of all coincidences, but that feels like a cheap explanation at best. 

“V... “ a small almost incredulous smile comes across her black stained lips, “this was meant to be. You and him, merging, it’s fate. There's something the world wants from you two, just got to figure out what.” 

“Its… a hell of a coincidence… “ 

“A higher power is screaming at you and you’re gonna turn a deaf ear?” 

“Only kind I got.” 

“Smartass,” Misty teases, “have you talked to him?” 

“Who? Takemura?” 

“No, Johnny.” 

“No,” V blinks in disbelief, has Misty lost her mind, “strangely enough I didn’t feel like striking up a convo while he was trying to kill me.” 

“You should.” 

“And why the absolute fuck would I do that?” 

“Like it or not, V, his fate and yours are one now. This is as much about what the world has planned for him as it does for you.” 

“He tried to kill me!” 

“And?” 

“And!?” V flails her arms out exaggeratedly, the flippant response taking her back, “I didn’t appreciate it!? I…?” 

Misty laughs at V’s shocked reaction and the merc can’t help but chuckle too, the entire thing sounding and feeling ridiculous. 

“Did you appreciate it when Jackie put a gun to your head?” 

“That’s different, Jack was just doing a job.” 

“So, it’d have been better if he was being paid to do it?” 

“Yes, least Jackie had a reason, dipshit just wanted to hurt me.” 

“Is that what you think?” Misty raises an eyebrow and tilts her head softly to the side, halo of blonde hair bouncing with the movement. 

“Is there anything else to think?” 

“Not saying it makes it okay, but, Johnny woke up fifty years in the future, in the head of a stranger. Feeling your feelings, your memories, and last thing he remembers is whatever the hell Arasaka did to him.” 

“And?” 

“And maybe, the fear you felt that night, wasn’t all yours.” 

V hums, rubbing her hands together, “I’ll think about it. Still kinda think offing myself is the easiest move, though.” 

“What would Jackie say if he heard you talking like that?” 

“He’d kill me first for even talkin’ like that. Tell me to pull myself together, that it’ll all work out in the end.” 

“And it will, don’t know how, but it will. Just need you to want to live long enough to see that happen.’ 

“Fine, fine,” V sighs, “no blowing my brains out on this fine day, happy?” 

“Wanting to live is about more than just not killing yourself, V. You need to sleep, eat, drink something other than energy drinks and booze. Take care of yourself and actually deal with your shit” 

“But that sounds hard.” 

“Is it harder than running yourself ragged and no sleeping?” 

“Maybe.” 

“V…” 

“I’m just… scared, of seeing his memories, his past. Or, him getting a hold of me in my sleep.” 

“I could watch over you, make sure nothing happens.” 

“And what if he hurts you?” 

“He’s still in your body, V.” 

“Doesn’t mean he can’t use it to hurt you, I’m not risking that,” V tells Misty, shaking her head emphatically. 

“You could sleep in Vik’s clinic, no offense, but pretty sure Vik could stop your body if Johnny uses it to do anything.” 

“Nah, this is my demon, no one else’s. I appreciate the chat, really, I think I need to be going though.” 

“V… please.” 

“I’ll sleep tonight, in my own bed, alone. Just in case, but I’ll sleep, promise,” V reassures Misty as the merc gets up out of her seat, a few ideas already fluttering around in her head. 

“C’mon, I’ll get you set up with something to help you sleep, alright?” 

V’s soul feels a little lighter as she follows Misty back into her shop. The older woman getting a little sleeping kit put together for the merc. Lavender oils, tea, and spray. Moonstones meant to relieve emotional tension and help her relax. V can’t help but smile at the kindness of it all, Her money refused for the second time when she offers to pay Misty for it. 

“Take care of yourself, please,” Misty begs again, ruffling her hand through V’s hair. 

“I’ll give it a shot, thanks again, for everything.” 

“Wait,” Misty calls out, stopping V before she can head out, “you mentioned Takemura earlier, did you and him talk?” 

“He called me, morning after I got back to my place, wanted me to meet him for a chat.”

“What about?” 

“Don’t know, not meeting up with him.” 

“V…” 

“You know you keep saying my name like that it’s going to start hurting my feelings.” 

“Why haven’t you talked to him?” 

V shrugs, “He’s a corporate rat, can’t trust him.” 

“He saved your life.” 

“He also tried to kill me, which I think balances itself out.” 

“If he wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here, V.” 

“Corpos are tricky bitches, guy probably has some scheme up his sleeves, kept me alive so the wolves would have fresh meat or some shit.” 

“V… “

“My name is starting to feel like an insult.” 

“Talk to him, what’s the worse that can happen?” 

“You really want me to answer that?” 

Misty rolls her eyes and the two part with a quick goodbye, V feeling a little more energized, despite still being sleep deprived. She still has a few things she wants to cover before she goes home and sleep. Misty brought up something important, what Jackie would tell V if he were here to tell it. He’d want her to at least try and she owes him that much. 

It's a longshot, she knows, but she pulls out her holo. Evelyn, the client, claimed she knew how to remove the chip. That was before it was damaged and V’s not entirely sure Evelyn knew half as much as she claimed too. But it’s worth a shot, prefers it to anything a corpo suit like Takemura might be offering.  She calls Evelyn’s number, but an automated message tells her it’s not avaliable at the moment, V opts to leave a message anyway. 

“Hey… this is V. Got the chip, I know the heist had a few… hiccups, but if you could call me back, that’d be cool.” 

V huffs as she hangs up, blowing hair out of her face. She still doesn’t want to risk talking to a corpo, so she opts for her next idea. Learning more about Johnny, which feels weird to even think about. She’s not sure she buys the fate angle, not sure she really wants to ever have a chat with the man who bashed her head against a window. But, if nothing else, she wants to know more of who she’s dealing with. And while she gets his memories, she doesn’t have a good grasp on accessing them.  She could look him up online and fully intends to. But, she has some other ideas in mind. 

Dino is in the rockerboy scene, would know a bit about Samurai and Johnny. And despite what his faceplate looks like, he may actually be old enough to have crossed paths once or twice with the guy. The fixer may not be offering her jobs right now, but he only knows her as a V the merc when she’s wearing her mask. Without it, she’s just the girl he fucked in a bathroom stall once. Not her proudest moment, but hey, means he may entertain a conversation with her. 

The trickier one is Rogue, who she knows was close with Johnny, was too close. V grimaces at a few choice memories that stand out to her. But Rogue’s the queen of fixers and has never so much as looked V’s way. It's doubtful the older woman would want some no-name merc asking about her ex from fifty years back. But, that’d be her best source to try to get some solid first hand info of how the beast in her brain operates. 

The Afterlife is closer, but Dino is more the sure bet as far as talking to her goes. So, she catches the NCART into City Center. She gets off at the nearest stop, making her way through the crowd as she walks to his bar; Electric Orgasm. Because the man can’t name anything without sex being involved. The humiliation of fucking a bassist who named his band Gloryhole Bandits will truly never leave. 

Her boots scuff across the black and white dirty tiles, music blaring in the bar, making her turn her hearing aid volume down. She walks past the arcade and vending machines on her left, the stage with a band playing on her right. Dino is in his usual spot, leaning against the red bar. 

The fixer is taller than her by a ways, as most men are, prominent muscled biceps, one plated with bolts in an implant. Chrome in his jaw and along the back of his head, a mohawk of teal dreads and eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. An energy that suddenly seems all too familiar, a rockerboy wearing sunglasses indoors with a smug air, the attitude of a man convinced it’s his world and everyone else is just living in it. 

“Hey, you,” Dino greets her with a smirk she’s never seen him without, the drag of his tone telling her he remembers her face. Or maybe he’s just remembering what her throat feels like. 

“Hey,” she signs and she can see his brows furrowing, thinking for a moment. ASL and translators aren’t… particularly common.  She’s the only person she knows who uses them, but Dino seems less confident in that fact. 

“You finally decide you didn’t get enough of ole Dino?” 

“Maybe I did, but turns out men speaking in third person makes me dryer than a desert,” she teases, climbing onto the stool next to him. 

“Oh, c’mon, girl,” he wraps an arm around her shoulders, leaning in close, “don’t break my heart like that.”  

“I don’t think your heart is what you’re most concerned about,” she ends her signing by tapping her finger to his chromed chin, “so any news in the music scene?” 

“Nothing too exciting, a few new baby faced wannabes. We’re planning another show here in a few weeks, if you wanna pay me another visit, that is.” 

“What, not a fan of the newer crowd, prefer the classics?” She pointedly ignores his invitation, she can’t deny she’s attracted to him, but fucking a bassist in a public bathroom needs to be a one time experience in her life. 

“‘Course, new bands ain’t got style or soul, just young pissants hoping a guitar will help them get their dick wet.” 

“Because you’re so much better than that,” she rolls her eyes and he smirks, “old school bands, like, I don’t know… Samurai, more your thing I take it?” 

“Oh fuck yeah, you wanna talk style, Johnny Silverhand had fuckin’ style.” 

“You ever meet him?” She signs, stomach drop at the mention of that name. 

“Pssh, c’mon, little young for that. Did hit one of his gigs once.” 

“So, not that young, actually,” she taunts him, because she can’t resist. 

“Only as old as you feel, but...” he seems to to drift off for a moment, remembering, “that gig was fucked up, remember that much.” 

“They play that good?” 

“Eh, played normo. But Johnny, ‘parently he had some ‘saka suit tied up backstage. Said if they didn’t get at least three encores, he’d bash the poor bastard’s faceplate in.  Like I said, he had style, kid.”

“Firstly, you don’t get to call me kid after your dick has been inside me. Secondly, that all you know about the guy?”  

“What? You a Silverhand fangirl?” 

“I would actually enjoy killing you for saying that,” she signs and forces a smile to her lips, to make it seem lighthearted. But just the notion of being that man’s fan has left her stomach churning and her skin crawling. 

“Hehe, well how about I buy you a drink to make up for it?” 

“I actually got to head out now, bye.” 

V is out the door before Dino can say another word or stop her.  Sex isn’t exactly a prority right now, dying taking precedent.  Though she’d be lying if she said a part of her didn’t want to take Dino up on his offer. Her sex drive truly knowing no bounds. 

Additionally, the merc tries to limit her amount of repeat partners; Cece and Jake the exceptions because of her own odd logic. Cece and Jake are both in their forties with kids. They’d have to be out of their mind to want anything more out of V, considering a twenty-year old merc isn’t exactly step-mom material, at least not if you give a damn about your kids.Means less worries about them wanting… more. 

While less tethered than them,  Dino is a grade A fuckboy with the same love them and leave them attitude, so he’s low risk as far as that’s concerned. Maybe another time, when there’s not a bomb in her head. 

She takes the NCART back towards Watson, feeling a little silly for pinging back and forth between the areas. But as expected, Dino was ready to spill his limited knowledge on the rockerboy with only a little bit of needling, probably just happy to oogle the merc. Rogue will be her own problem of getting information out of, given the Queen of Fixers is a little over V’s head. Maybe she can pretend she’s looking for work, granted she knows Rogue would never work with her after her reputation tanked. But, could at least get her into Rogue’s booth and a chance to have a convo. 

There’s an odd, bittersweet sense of nostalgia as she gets off a stop near the club, slides her mask on,  and reaches the little enclosed alleyway that leads there. Stuck in one spot in the alley, remembering the night she met up with Jackie here, half expecting to hear him on the phone with his mother. But there’s only chatter of other mercs. She takes a deep breath and curses beneath her breath when she sees the flashy red and blue poster pinned to the alley wall, graffitied over. But the band is clear, bright red flaming oni face and Samurai underneath it. 

Childish as it may be, she scratches her nail up under the corner of the poster and gets a hold of it, ripping it from the wall. An odd little sense of satisfaction at the way it tears half assedly, destroying the logo and oni head. Mild act of vandalism completed, she drops the piece she ripped up and continues on her way. 

Turns the corner, through the doorway, down a set of stairs, through a pair of double doors and down another set of stairs. Fellow mercs are scattered in the hallway outside of the main doors, a few stare at her, seem to be whispering. Must be her imagination, flashbacks of the other kids in The Herd mocking her start to flicker in her mind. They’re all adults here, though,way above schoolyard rumors and bullying, right?

The same bodyguard from that night is blocking the entrance to the bar, he looks down at her and scoffs. Her jaw clenches behind her mask and her stomach drops, she really is a fucking laughing stock here now, isn’t she? 

“And what do you think you’re doing here?” He mocks her and she hears some snickers, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin. 

“Here to drink and talk shop like anyone else,” she signs, hoping he can’t see the nervous twitch in her fingers. 

“After the shitshow at Konpeki? Not happening, get lost.” 

Her face burns hot with shame behind her mask and it takes every ounce of self control not to kick him. She forces herself to turn around and walk out instead, trying to behave. Trying to ignore the side glances or the soft snickers as people watch her get turned away, mocking the pathetic little merc who thought she could still have a rep after that shitshow. The fuck-up they all blame for the heist gone bad; for Jackie and Bug being gone. 

When she reaches the alleyway, alone, she pulls off her mask and puts it into her bag, tugging at her hair. Her feet stomp, anger and shame hot under her skin as she walks. She wanted to prove she was strong, capable, worthy of respect, worthy of something. And all she did was prove she’s as worthless as she always thought, as her supposed clan thought. 

“Fuck!” V screams her anger out as she reaches the end of the alley, and slams her fist into the wall, feeling her knuckles split open against the wall. She follows up by kicking it, she needs another boxing match something to get the anger out. 

“Need a smoke?” A sly female voice asks and leaning against the wall around the corner is Rogue. V still recognizes the much older woman from when Jackie pointed her out. And her face is still recognizable from Johnny’s memories, just more wrinkled with time. Her teal fluffed up mohawk of hair now traded for long gray hair shaved on one side. Cyberware notches along her cheeks and chrome peeking out over the neckline of her shirt. She’s puffing away on a cigarette, eyebrow raised  as she watches the merc like a cat watches a mouse. Rogue is exceptionally tall for a woman and casually even in her older age, V can see the maintained muscle of her abs around a chrome inset. 

Dumb luck seems to be on V’s side. Rogue, if she knows V at all, knows her as the masked merc. Which means V may be able to pass as a random civilian. She double checks and casually musses with her hair, making sure her hearing aids are covered. Rubbing at her neck but turning off her choker translator. 

“Appreciate the offer, but I don’t smoke,” V tells her, shrugging her shoulders and leans against the wall, hoping her body language is as casual as she intends. Even if her own voice is grinding to the ears. 

“Sure looks like you need something to take the edge off.” 

“Eh, I’ll survive, always do.” V picks dirt from her bleeding knuckles, “you’re Rogue, right?” 

“We know each other?” 

“Boss of the Afterlife, everyone knows you,” V opts for stroking the older woman’s ego, on the off chance it makes her lips even a little looser.

“Ugh,” the older woman scoffs, V’s praise not quite hitting how she wished. 

“Not all it’s cracked up to be?” 

“You don’t know the half of it, but ain’t too keen on that label. ‘Boss’,” she roll her eyes, ''Makes it sound like I've got an army of greasy henchmen.” 

“I mean, guy inside didn’t look that greasy.” 

“Cute.” A soft sarcastic lilt colors her tone, but the slight hint of an almost smile lets V know she’s at least amused by the merc. 

“So, what’d you rather be called?” 

“Hmm,” she hums, taking a drag off her cigarettes before breathing out the smoke,  “Good question. I'd have to think about that one…”

“Mind if I shoot another question your way?” 

“Why not? But ask at your own risk.” 

There’s an almost condescending bite to her voice, making it clear if V doesn’t traverse this next question carefully, she may find herself back in the landfill. Something about it… attractive, if the merc is being honest. And she’s not sure if that’s a physical attraction to the much older woman or that Rogue is… what V wanted to be. Exudes the confidence, commands respect, and is a legend in Night City; no one questions her strength or her competence. Rogue truly made it in Night City, something V can only dream of now. 

“You use to run with Silverhand back in the day, right? What was he like?” 

“Johnny...? Where’d that come from?” 

“Seem to be as many rumors about him as there were fifty years ago. And not all of 'em gel together, figured this be one of my few chances to ask someone who actually knew the guy.” 

“You a media, now?” 

The ‘now’ hits V’s ear the wrong way, maybe just a slip of the older woman’s tongue. But, Rogue doesn’t know V, especially not without her mask, just some random stranger striking up a conversation. For all Rogue knows the stranger could be a media, maybe V’s worrying for nothing. 

“Just curious, ain’t got to answer if you don’t wanna, both know I can’t make you do shit.” 

“It's good you know that,” Rogue smirks, “Johnny was… strong, arrogant, uncompromising. He'd burn down half the city just to prove he was right. And burn the other half just for fun.” 

“Sounds like…” V trails off, not completely sure of what she wants to say. 

“Like a kid with a box o' matches and a can of CHOOH2.”

“Still stuck by him, though, didn’t you?” V can’t help but ask, more to herself than to Rogue, but the question bugs her. Even back in the day, Rogue was a certifiable badass, hot as all hell to boot. Yet she wasted her time on some greasy manchild?

“And how exactly would you know that?” 

“Lucky guess,” V quickly covers her ass, “called him a kid, but way you say it, sounds more fond than mad, ya know?” 

“Maybe, doesn’t matter, won’t speak ill of the dead, anymore burning questions or can I get on with my life?” 

“I ain’t stopping you,” V says, shrugging her shoulders as she watches Rogue stomp out her cigarette and walk back down the alley towards the club. 

V lets out a heavy sigh, she didn’t exactly get a great deal of information. She didn’t expect to get a biopic of the guy’s life. At the very least she got a bit of a better idea of his personality, but it’s done nothing to put her at ease. Anti-corp rockerboy, reckless, unpredictable, and destructive. It doesn’t give her much more of an idea of how to handle the guy. Misty is saying to give the guy a chance to at least talk, but god knows what he’d do if he had half a chance to hurt her again. V shakes her head, she knows Misty means well, but whether it’s fate or shitty luck, being stuck with this asshole can only mean bad news. She’d be better off keeping him under lock and key. It’s not worth the risk. 

She makes her way back to her apartment at that, remembering her promise to sleep. She grabs a shower as soon as she gets home, letting the hot water relax her for a moment. Ther merc changes into comfy pajama, throwing on her slightly silly but cute plush golden brown hoodie, with little bear ears. It’s ridiculous and childish, but she loves it. The softness of it making her want to burrow under the sheets and never come up. Already exhausted and ready to sleep by the time she’s placed the moonstone in the shelves at the end of her bed cubby and sprayed lavender mist over the pillows. 

Her eyes are already heavy when she lays down, half asleep already, she grabs her holo, deciding to try one more time. Evelyn hasn’t called back at all, so V sends her a quick text message. Right now, the blue haired woman is her only real lead on anything that could help. Other than speaking to Takemura and… that’s a road she’d rather not travel if she doesn’t have to. 

V: We need to talk, it’s important!

[Unable to deliver message. Recipient may be temporarily unavailable.]

The merc blinks at her phone screen, yawning as she puts it aside, what on earth is going on with Evelyn? There’s no way Arasaka could have linked the heist to her is there? They wouldn’t have had a chance to track V’s call, Jackie’s phone had no correspondence with Evelyn if they got it, the bot couldn’t be linked back to her. Maybe Evelyn changed numbers and ditched town? V hopes the fuck not, but it would have been the smartest thing to do. But if so, V’s one lead is gone. 

Thoughts and worries flicker through her mind, but exhaustion crashes down on her before they can run rampant, slipping into sleep. Darknesss flooding her vision. 

A blanket of black then neon begins to bleeds through, brighter and brighter until it blinds. 

World around her shifts and she’s no longer her but him. 

Bright lights in a dingy club, the cling of sweat on skin, the weight of a guitar. Hands of flesh and chrome strum the strings, vocal chords straining as his voice screams out his lyrics. Kerry not far off to the side, the rest of Samurai behind him as they play through Blistering Love. A decent sized crowd screaming and dancing along to every note they play. 

And its a soft thrum at first, the chaos that starts to erupt, but not because of the music. A steady murmur thats something is wrong, then chaos bursting forth as security starts running through the crowd. Trying to push through people, shouting over the music for someone to stop, unable to draw their guns in the sea of bodies without risk of hitting someone else. 

Johnny’s gaze looks over to Kerry, confirmation that his friend is seeing this too, that the attention on them is shifting elsewhere. Samurai forced to play second fiddle to the growing commotion and when he looks back to the crowd he sees her, a woman cutting her way through the audience. Sweat stuck to her brow, a split lip with a steady drip of blood, and a wild mused mohawk of teal hair. Bloody lips pulled into a smug sneer as she ducks and dodges through the crowd, away from security. 

Then that soft thrum explodes into something more, someone in the crowd throws a punch at a shoving bouncer and they throw one right back. The audience breaks out into a brawl as drunk idiots start attacking the bouncers or each other; blood spraying and teeth knocked clean out. Music stopping as they know the audience is done giving a shit about them. 

“Jesus fuckin’ christ,” Kerry curses as a beer bottle smashes at the back wall behind the band, nearly nailing him right in the head. 

“We better delta before the pigs get called.” 

“Take care of this for me, Ker,” Johnny ignores Nancy’s warning, handing Kerry his guitar. He can see her making her way towards the door, trying to slip out in the commotion with a bouncer still on her heels. He’s not letting her go without making damn sure she knows who he is. An undeniable pull of attraction to her, to the kind of woman who can turn a crowd of drunk club goers into a battle royale.

“The fuck are you doing?” 

Kerry questions him, but Johnny’s already jumped off stage and into the fray, shoving and pushing his way through people. He walks surefooted, head held high and no shame as he cuts his way through. Shutting down anyone who gets in his way however he has too; a solid left hook, silver knuckles leaving their nose a cracked mess. Slamming an elbow into someone's jaw and hearing the crack of it over the noise of the crowd. All with his eyes staying focused on her, on the flash of teal hair under neon lights. 

She's nearly to the backdoor, Johnny not far behind, when a heavy wraps around her upper arm. One of the bouncers finally gaining ground and trying to wrench her backwards, though he can't manage to drag the amazon of a woman back.

"Think you'd get away with this, bitch!"

Her hand pulls back to throw a punch at the bouncer, but Johnny's hands are faster, stepping in to save the day. He slams his fist onto the bouncer's face, nose cracking and teeth gnashing under the force of the blow. The man is knocked back, the woman's green eyes glaring at Johnny, she looks pissed. Lips bloody and sneering, eyes dark with distrust. Domineering and angry in her demeanor, even while he's playing hero.

He reaches over her to wrench the door open, an excuse to be in her space, taking what advantage he can of the small height difference. She's only around an inch shorter than him, the heels of his boots extending that difference slightly. 

"C'mon, no reason to stick around," he says, hand on her back as he pushes her through the door into the alley. 

The night air cools his sweat slick skin, the woman quick to move away from his touch as the door shuts behind him. Silence enveloping them with the noise of the club is shut out. Johnny just takes her in for a moment; hot as all hell. Sweat clinging to her skin, freckles across her cheeks, split lip, and dyed hair falling into her face. A face cold and cruel in its expression, contrasted against the flush of exertion on her skin. 

"The fuck do you want?" She asks him, glaring. Tone and attitude nasty, making him smirk. Always did like the bitchy types, more fun when someone's got a bite to them. 

"Just saved your ass, wouldn't kill you to say thanks," he returns, already thinking of tasting the blood on her split lip and  grabbing a handful of her ass. 

"Don't need your help, rockerboy." She rolls her eyes at him, if he gets half a chance he could have her eating out of the palm of his hand by daybreak. Or better yet, could find himself between her legs before the sun comes up. 

Johnny's not stupid, knows damn well the effect he has. The way he can draw people in, only reason Kerry still hangs around, maybe the only reason Samurai still exists at all. 

"How 'bout a drink then?" He offers, smirk on his lips. And she groans, pissed off by the littlest thing.  

"Fuck off."

He watches her stomp off, eyes drawn to her ass and the swing of her hips. But he doesn't go after her. Not giving her the satisfaction of seeing him chase after her twice in one night, instead lighting himself a cigarette. He's seen her type before, runs with the Atlantis crowd; no doubt in his mind. They'll run into each other again. 

And as he breathes out a cloud of smoke, the world around him obscures. Gray filling his vision, flooding it, choking him on it. Until his throat itches, his stomach churns, pain cracking through her head… her head. 

A migraine wakes V up, every single cell in her body on fire, a sharp pang in the back of her skull. Her stomach clenches and twists, tighter and tighter. When she opens her eyes, the world is shifting and glitching, swimming before her, eyes unable to focus. Every muscle in her body winds itself into knots and can’t get a deep enough breath, lungs struggling to take anything in. 

Relic Malfunction Detected

The words flash across her optics as she flops out of bed onto her knees, gasping for air and retching to vomit all at once. Body unsure of what to do while everything seems to fall apart at once. She clutches at her chest, claws at her rib cage desperate to feel if her heart is even still beating, begging herself to just breathe, to just breathe. 

And it starts to pass, her stomach calming down, her breathing evening out. Her muscles starting to release some of the tension. She’s still dizzy and the world is still wobbly as she wipes spittle from her lips, forces herself to stand up. V needs to do something, speak to Vik, maybe he can give her something. Do something for it, but he’s made it clear he has no idea how to save her. 

She trips over herself on the way to her bathroom, grabbing at her sink for some balance. Looking down with her eyes closed as she breathes, steadying herself, waiting for the new fresh wave of nausea to pass before she looks up into her sink mirror. 

But it’s not her she sees. Johnny fucking Silverhand reflected back at her, leaning his hands against her sink and staring into her eyes; glare harsh with that barely contained anger he brims with. Always looking a moment away from lashing out. And when she twists her head, his follows, as natural as a reflection. Like she’s really him. 

“Jesus fuck!” 

She curses and jerks back, falling back onto her ass, not even minding so long as she doesn’t have to see him. V grabs at herself again, feeling that’s her. Soft flesh, not hard muscle, skin where his chrome is. Her blue painted nails, her dumb bear hoodie, her bleached hair, and her smooth face; that’s it her. That she’s still herself. And she is; for now, But for how long? 

V can’t keep doing this, can’t just wait until Evelyn answers her calls or texts back, she needs to do something. Anything. Even with popping the blockers like candy, she’s seeing him, living his memories. He’s bleeding into everything and she’ll lose herself to him before long. She can’t hide away, Jackie would want her to save herself, would want her to live. And she if she intends to do that she needs to move. 

The merc rises, as she’s had to so many times before. Her reflection is her own again, still woozy from the aftermath of the relic malfunction, but she pushes through to shower and change. Collecting all she needs before she leaves the apartment, marching out of the apartment building with single minded determination towards Tom’s Diner. She’s got a date with a corpo. Maybe it’s a trick and maybe he can’t help, but he’s something. As he put it so elegantly, if she intends to live, she’s got to get back in the ring and she’s been fucking around in the sidelines for too long. 

[t0wnspersonb]

See You Again (Tendou Satori x Reader)

Word Count: 2,354

Warnings: mentions of drugs, alcohol, yakuza, suggestive language, bad language, my shit writing

Summary: As the daughter of a yakuza boss there are certain things you must uphold to, but when a night out at the club comes around, you find yourself being saved by the son of a rival clan. After a quick chat, you find yourself completely enraptured by him, and you can’t help but want to see him again. 

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Anonymous said:

Tendou meets someone whos kinda slightly insane and is a Yakuza boss, y'know shady type stuff. Can you write something where they kind of obsess over eachother and it's like a match made in hell? Thank you so much for your time. ❤️❤️😈

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This is part 1!!! I’ve decided to make this story two parts, so stay tuned for part 2! I really enjoyed this idea of a yakuza!Tendou. I definitely tweaked it quit a bit, I hope you don’t mind too much anon! 

I’m still writing out some requests so please be patient with me! I know I haven’t posted anything new recently and I’m so sorry for that! Life has been so busy for me. 

I hope you guys enjoy this one and please let me know what you think! 😊😊😊 I hope you guys have a wonderful week!

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The atmosphere thumped around you violently. Filled to the brim with alcohol and smoke; violently shaking you with strong vibrations as you swayed back and forth to the music. 

 Sweat and cheap perfume filled the space within your nose, but that was a given. You could feel a trickle of sweat sliding down the back of your neck, matting strands of hair to your overheated skin. 

 Bodies were pressed close together, grabbing and grinding against anything that moved. 

 You could feel a hand sliding against your waist, tugging you closer to the body pressed tight behind you. The person’s lower half pressed against the curve of your ass.

 Your eyes flashed open. Your hand that was held in the air lowered, your drink sloshing out of the cup and dripping down your fingers. You could feel your face twisting in disgust as you easily jabbed your elbow into their ribs, separating the two of you.

 You glanced back at the male that was wincing in pain, glaring at you accusingly. You rolled your eyes before shoving your body through the crowd of people, making your way off the dancefloor.

 The group you had come with were still situated in a booth at the corner of the club. The seats were sticky against the bare skin of your thighs, either from spilled drinks or another substance that you would rather not think of.

 Typical club atmosphere. 

 “Wanna do a line?” one of the males asked, looking at you with glazed eyes. 

 This was another thing that was typical in this atmosphere; it was entirely predictable, and while it came with the territory, it was entirely boring.

 “No.” you said curtly, preventing your face from morphing into a look of complete disgust. 

 “Don’t you know? Daddy will get mad if he found out his little princess was doing drugs.” another voice chimed in.

 You rolled your eyes. “You forget that he would throw your ass dead in a ditch somewhere. Know your place.” You sneered.

 For a moment, the air around the booth was thick with tension, your piercing gaze could put Medusa to shame as you stared down the two males that had decided to speak to you. 

 “Calm down killer,” a large hand rested against the top of your head, ruffling your hair. You huffed, swatting the hand away in annoyance. “Honestly though guys, show a bit more respect towards our next clan head. If Boss doesn’t throw your ass dead in a ditch, you know that she will.”

 “Forgive us Little Lady.” they bowed their heads towards you. 

 You snorted, waving them off as your eyes glanced around the room.

 The tension lifted easily, everyone getting back to their side conversations that they were doing beforehand.

 Leave it to one of your father’s direct underlings to stick up for you. 

 But it was entirely appreciated, although you would never say those words aloud. To survive in this world, you had to command respect from those around you, it was one of the many lessons you were taught growing up.

 Being the head’s daughter came with its own set of rules, and the fact that you were going to inherit it all, well, you had to be cautious about certain things.

 Which is why one of your father’s direct underlings went with you and other clan members to the club tonight. For the most part, the clan was completely fine with you taking over after your father retired, there were others that were a bit skeptical, you would be the first female head. The slight doubts and the teasing forced your hand to be, well, a bitch. 

 You were fine with that though. 

 “What the fuck are they doing here?” 

 You frowned at the statement, your eyes flickering across the room to see why everyone at the table was now on edge. 

 Nothing seemed out of place…

 Oh. 

 Your eyes zeroed in at the entrance, the sea of bodies parting to make room for the group that was walking towards an empty booth.

 “This is neutral territory. They have every right to be here as we do. Don’t start any unnecessary shit.” Your father’s direct said firmly. 

 “I don’t give a fuck, they know we go to this club all the time, why the fuck… Little Lady is here too!”

 “It’s fine.” you said curtly, looking at your group. “It’s neutral territory, we all know the rules. They aren’t going to start a fight unless we provoke them. So, mind your business. Is that clear?”

 Despite the angry and suspicious looks from your group they all agreed in understanding. But despite your words, you were definitely concerned, you didn’t want any problems to come up. 

 It would be fine right?

 “I’m going to get another drink.” You muttered, sliding out of the sticky booth, your fingers adjusting your dress accordingly. 

 “I’ll go with yo-” 

 You held your hand up. “No need, I’ll be fine.” 

 You were already walking off towards the bar, ignoring the pointed and concerned looks from the table. 

 Tonight definitely wasn’t what you had planned. You figured that you would get drunk and dance, maybe find someone to hook up with, definitely wasn’t planning on having a rival clan show up.

 Fuck, you just wanted to go home now. 

 Your fingers tapped against the bar counter as you waited for your drink to be made, body swaying with the beat of the music.

 “You all alone sweetheart?” you could feel a hand wrap around your waist.

 You could feel your nostrils flaring in anger, tonight definitely was not your night. You glanced over to see a tall man staring down at you with a wide smirk, clearly drunk.

 If it was any other night you might’ve considered flirting with him, he wasn’t bad on the eyes, definitely not your type though. 

 “I’m with my group of friends.” You said curtly, wiggling your way out of his grip. “I’m just getting a drink.”

 “But you’re all by yourself… Did your friends ditch you? Wanna come hang out with me and my friends?” He grabbed at your wrist, yanking you into his body easily.

 You ignored the panic that started to bubble up in your chest. Your eyes flickered over to your booth only to find out that you were completely blocked from the booth’s view, meaning that your group couldn’t see you at all.

 “No thanks.” you snapped, attempting to yank yourself free from the male. His grip on your wrist tightened dramatically, causing you to wince in pain.

 “Come on sugar, don’t be like that. Let’s go have some fun yeah?” he peered down at you; face incredibly close to your own.

 Fuck. 

 This was so fucked. 

 He was way too big for you to handle yourself. 

 How were you going to - “I don’t think she wants to go anywhere with you buddy.” long fingers wrapped in white tape were suddenly placed on the male’s shoulder, easily pushing him to the side, exposing your savior to your wide, panicked eyes.

 Red, calculating eyes peered down at you, flickering across your face before sliding over to the male that was still gripping your wrist tightly.

 “You know you’re hurting her right? I think you should let go.” His large hand tightened on your assailant’s shoulder, causing the male to wince and release his grip on you immediately.

 “Who the fuck are yo-” You could visibly see the male gulp in fear, fully taking in the tall redheaded male.

 Tendou Satori.

 Of all the people to come to your rescue, it had to be him, didn’t it?

 Just your fucking luck.

 Tendou tilted his head to the side slightly, his gaze never wavering from his face. His tall stature stooped down lower until he was eye level with the fear-stricken man.

 If you thought that disgusting man was too big, you were clearly wrong. Tendou overpowered him completely.

 “F-Forgive me, Tendou-sama! I-I didn’t know she was your woman!” The man wailed.

 Your eyebrows raised up at his statement, his woman? Like hell.

 “Oh I don’t even know who she is.” Tendou said, his index finger tapping against his chin as he pondered aloud. “But you were clearly making her uncomfortable. Men like you… piss me off. So,” he grabbed the man’s shoulder once more, his eyes turning into slits, a sardonic smile covering his lips. “You should leave.”

 The man yelped, apologizing profusely before running out of the club.

 You blinked after him in confusion before sighing loudly, your body drooping as your heart rate began to thump at a normal level now.

 You grabbed your drink that was on the bar counter, chugging it down.

 What a fucking night. What a fucking joke.

 “Are you okay?” Tendou asked suddenly, now by your side.

 You jumped at his voice, thinking that he had already left. Your eyes slide over to him, he was watching you closely, a curious look coating his face.

 “I’m fine.” you said, tone short. “You can leave now.”

 You could see his lips twitch into an amused smile at your dismissal, his body shifting just a tad bit closer to you.

 “You might be able to order your clan members around doll, but last I checked I’m not part of your clan.” he chuckled deeply.

 You ignored the deep twist in your gut at the sound. 

 “I thought you didn’t even know who I was.” you mocked, body turning to face him completely.

 You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find Tendou incredibly attractive; because he was. You knew exactly who you were dealing with. The next head in your rival clan. The same as you. 

 This might’ve been the longest conversation that you’ve ever held with him though. Of course you knew of him, there were many times where he and his father had come to your estate to negotiate with your father. You also knew of him based on the various stories you’ve heard from your own clan and others.

 He was just as dangerous as he was handsome.

 A terrible mix.

 “I lied.” he said easily, red eyes shining in amusement. “I know exactly who you are Little Lady.”

 “So then you know that I’m not alone right?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

 He shrugged, waving down the bartender and ordering a drink. He leaned against the bar counter easily, almost looking completely out of place in this shitshow of a club. Your eyes scanned down his figure, taking notice of his attire. 

 He definitely looked out of place here. The dark suit clung to his lean muscles, his tie loosened, and the first couple of buttons on his white dress shirt were undone, as if he had just finished a long day at the office.

 If his reputation wasn’t well known that’s probably what people would have thought until they got a closer look at him.

 His clan ring gleamed from the lights of the club, standing out amongst his other taped fingers. 

 “Like what you see?” he teased, looking over at you.

 You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. Did you just come back from a meeting?” you asked, taking a sip of your new drink.

 “Wouldn’t you like to know.” he said, an eyebrow quirking up. 

 You huffed in annoyance; he had a point though. You wouldn’t want someone from an outside clan knowing your business.

 “So if you’re with your people, why didn’t they save you from that guy?” he asked curiously.

 “I could’ve handled it myself.” You said immediately. “I’m not some helpless little girl.”

 You knew how to handle yourself that much was true, but you knew that there was an obvious difference. Even though you could handle weapons, and had combat training, per orders from your father; you were still a girl. You could still be easily overpowered by males much larger than you. You weren’t stupid, you knew how to pick your battles.

 “Aren’t you though?” Tendou’s eyes slid down your figure, drinking you in completely, shamelessly.

 You could feel your thighs clenching together unconsciously. His gaze burned your body, made you incredibly hot, but also made you feel incredibly exposed.

 Maybe you didn’t know how to pick your battles.

 “I’m not.” You argued, mentally swearing at yourself. You did sound like a child, a stupid little girl in the eyes of your rival.

 “You would be with me.” he answered simply, eyes darkening dramatically. His body turned towards you now, his long fingers grabbing at a strand of your hair, rubbing the strands between taped fingertips. 

 His eyes bore into yours, as his fingers moved from your hair to run carefully against your neck and jaw, carefully cupping your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

 Your breath hitched, your body breaking out in a cold sweat as you stared back at him; prey caught between the hands of a predator.

 “What do you say? Want to test my theory little girl?” he murmured, eyes flickering down towards your lips as they parted.

 Your mind went blank.

 What the fuck was this?

 This sudden desire for the tall red headed male? 

 There was never a moment in your life where you felt weak, until now. You had never felt small in your entire life, even when you were a little girl. Your father had raised you to be strong, raised you to be the tallest person in a room full of males.

 So then why… Why was Tendou able to reduce you in such a way? 

 He made you want to cling to him, he made you desperate for him, and that was obvious in the way that heat pooled in your lower stomach, obvious in the way that your thighs clenched together tightly.

 His eyes flickered behind you, his grip on your chin releasing as he stepped back, grabbing his drink off the bar.

 “Maybe some other time. I’ll see you around little one.” he said, his face entirely amused as he walked off.

 What -

 “Little Lady! Are you okay!?” 

 Oh.

 This definitely wasn’t your night. 

 But now… you definitely hoped to see him around again. 

[smutsonian]

Memoir - What You Don’t Know Series (2/6)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: remembering your past

Warning/s: flashbacks, angst, deaths, car crash, drunk driving, not proofread

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: i added a character. im thinking of timothee chalamet as Elio. If you’ve watched Call me by your name, elio aint that young here. Y/N and Elio is in their 20s :3 this chapter is focused on what happened to y/n before she started actin up

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For you, home doesn’t mean a house that you lived in so you can sleep, eat, shower, and whatnot. You always believed that a home was being with someone you love and loves you back. A home is with the person or people that you feel most safe and comfortable with. You only had two people for that matter. It used to be only one person but Steve happened. Home for you was with your father or with Steve. It doesn’t make any sense now because one is dead and one turned out to be a major asshole. 

Maybe that’s why you’re currently sitting on your father’s grave. Maybe that’s why you left New York so you can grieve to your father’s grave. Doesn’t matter if he’s dead. He’s always been there for you and you would never fail to believe that he’ll still be there for you even if he’s dead. 

You have always been a daddy’s girl. Your mother was the one who works for the family while your father is a house husband. The two of you were inseparable, always up to no good and your mother would always chastise the both of you but your father would calm her down and the three of you would just spend the time with each other. It was a picture-perfect family… Until it was not. A car accident. A fucking drunk driver. A guy stupid enough to drive a fucking car under the influence of alcohol. Your father was going to pick you up from a skating session at the ice rink but he never made it. The drunk bastard was going so fucking fast that the impact killed your father in an instant. Just like that. Just one blink and your father’s life is taken away from him. 

Your father has always been your rock but when he died, your life went to shit. Your relationship with your mom wasn’t there if your father isn’t in the picture. The two of you would only have the chance to interact because of the picnics that your father would prepare whenever your mom gets a day off from the hospital. Being a doctor takes a ton of your time, you guessed. But that’s it. You never had the chance to have a one on one with her until your father died. It didn’t end well...

[Flashback]

I can’t believe this. He’s dead. He’s really dead. Why? Why?!

“You need to save him!” you yelled at your mom but she only shook her head, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Y/N… He’s gone. I did my best. I want him alive as much as you do but life can be full of surprises. May it be a good one or a bad one.” She makes a move to embrace me but I slap her hands away, still not believing anything of this. Not believing the words coming out of her mouth.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m one of your patients.” You hissed at her. Why isn’t she hurting like you were? Did she not care for him at all?

“Don’t talk to me like that, young lady. I’m still your mother-”

“Are you? Are you really? You never acted like one-” You couldn’t finish your sentence because of a stinging pain you felt on your right cheek. She just slapped you... 

“You don’t get to tell me that.” Her voice was raising and you could see her face contorting into an angry one.

“You don’t get to act like you're the only one here who’s affected by his death. He’s my fucking husband, for fuck’s sake. I’ve been with him longer than you have and you… You just have to fucking take those shitty ice skating classes and for what? I don’t see why he’s so keen on supporting you with that. Look what it got him. He’s fucking dead because of you and your stupid classes.” Her voice was laced with so much distaste that you almost flinched at it. She was seething and it was all directed towards you. Your mother being disgusted by you wasn’t what broke you but her words did. The idea, no. The fact that you’re the reason for your father’s death is what broke you.

You eyed your mother with surprised and guilty eyes and made a step back away from her, shaking your head as the tears escaped your eyes. Your mother’s face morphed into a guilty one and she went to reach for you but you stepped further away.

“No.” You hissed.

“Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t fucking come near me ever again. I fucking hate you!” And with that, you run out of the hospital. Leaving your parents without looking back. 

[End of the flashback]

Looking back at it now, you knew that you acted a bit out of hand and were being really selfish with your mother. You weren’t the only one who lost a family. Yeah, you lost your father but she lost her husband. She lost the guy that he fell in love with. They’ve been together for a long time and it must really suck to lose your lover. But you were a kid who’s mourning her father’s death and she definitely shouldn’t have put the blame on you. It fucked with your brain a lot. Like a lot. Having your mother tell you that you’re the reason for your father’s death deals great damage to a person. Especially a teenager.

Having your father die when you’re young also deals damage to you. You don’t know if it was your father’s death that made you crave older men’s approval or something but you know that his death gave you some kind of daddy issues. Putting yourself in situations with older men because of it, making you even more fucked up. 

Craving their approval is unhealthy and can be dangerous if you find yourself with someone who’s manipulative because they can use that to take you for granted. It doesn’t really matter anymore because every single one you dated turned out to be the same type of people. Everyone used you and threw you out after they had their fill. Every single one of them. You thought Steve would be different but that one stung like a bitch. The way he treated you like a child… Those hurtful words that he used… Maybe he’s right. If it keeps happening to you, maybe the problem is you.

Maybe you’re still that kid that liked seeing his father proud of her and the moment that you failed to do that anymore because he died… Maybe you’re just stuck at that. You’re so hung up on making your father proud that you jumped on the chance of making every single older man proud of you. Nevermind them taking you for granted. You’re too blinded by your determination to fill that empty hole inside your heart to even notice.

“Hey, graveyard neighbor!” 

Too occupied with your own thoughts, you don’t see the guy from beside your father’s grave until he calls out to you. You turned to see a young man sitting just a few feet away from you, one hand waving at you while the other was supporting his weight as he leaned back. Loose curls falling down his forehead as he smiled and nodded at you.

“I’ve never seen you around here. Though, I only ever started going here last month…” he mumbles, scratching his chin as he seems to be deep in thought.

“Is that your father?” He points towards your father’s headstone. You looked at him with a questioning look before nodding, turning your head to run your eyes over the stone. You never really got the chance to go to his funeral or to visit his grave because you ran away from your mother. You were too proud to be caught running back to her so you didn’t risk visiting your father. Come to think of it now, you’ve been really immature. You still are… According to Steve, you’re no woman. You’re just a little girl with a lot of issues.

You felt something touch your side and you were once again pulled out of your thoughts by the guy who found himself sitting beside you.

“According to your face, he seemed like a great guy.” He gives you a playful smile that you return. “He is… He was. He really was.” You nodded before hugging your knees and resting your chin on it.

“Your father?” Your voice was quiet as you pointed towards the headstone that was beside your father’s.

He nodded before standing up and slapping his father’s headstone. “Yep. The old man died last month. I always warned him about eating too much sugar but the old man never listened. Always saying shit about living what’s left of his life freely.” He chuckled before rubbing his palms on his jeans and offering you a hand.

“I’m Elio” 

You took his hands and shook it before standing up. “Y/N.” You give him a polite smile. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. So, how come I’ve never seen you here before?” He asked with a tilt of the head and a teasing smile. 

“I’m from New York. Just visiting here for some time.” You shrugged. How long were you even planning on staying here? You don’t really have a place here. And you for sure don’t want to see your mother. Not yet, at least.

“New York, huh? I have a small job there but I’ll be staying here for some time too. Gotta mourn my pop’s death with my ma.” He chuckles at his own words before shaking his head and poking his forehead slightly and smiling wildly at you.

“How do you feel about coffee? My treat.” He grins.

Elio seems like a fun guy to hang around with and he’s been nothing but nice. He seems about someone your age too so there’s no issue there… It can be a good distraction from real life. Having a friend sounds really nice right now and Elio has one of the friendliest smiles that you can’t help but agree to his offer to get some coffee.

Steve knew he messed up. He was so scared that you would actually leave him for real but the moment he stepped foot on your shared apartment, he felt somewhat relieved. All your things were still there. He knew you didn’t have a lot so he’s confident that you would come back. You didn’t have anyone else. He knows that you need him. He knows how you’re codependent to him. As selfish as it sounds, he’s thankful for that side of you. He’s thankful that you’re somehow messed up like that because that assures him that you’ll never leave his side. No matter how bad your fight was. You’ll come back to him. You always will.

Seconds. Hours. Days. Weeks have passed but you’re still nowhere to be found. You still haven’t come home to Steve and he’s starting to think that he may actually have done it. Where would you even go without him? Have you found another old man to cling onto? Steve knows he has no right to be mad. It’s his fault. He’s so used to being the righteous Captain America that he couldn’t believe the fact that he would be able to make a mistake. He couldn’t believe that he made a mistake with you. He just wanted to help you and be there for you but he failed. His confidence is gone and the realization hits him. You were gone and you might actually not come back. 

And it’s all his fault.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Beauty and The Brando - Dio Brando (1/2)

This is gonna be a royal clusterfuck

Beauty and the Beast x Stardust Crusaders

Dio Brando x Reader

CAST:

Beast - Dio Brando Belle - Reader Maurice ( Belle's Father ) - Roses ( Joseph's driver ) The Servants - Dio's servants Gaston - Kujo Jotaro LeFou - Jean - Pierre Polnareff Monsieur D'Arque - Joseph Joestar The Baker - Muhammad Avdol The Bookseller - Kakyoin Noriaki The Triplettes - Jotaro's classmates Featherduster - Mariah  Lumiere - Daniel J. D'Arby Cogsworth - Terence T. D'Arby Mrs. Potts - Enyaba Chip - Oingo & Boingo Sultan ( the dog ) - Pet Shop The Wardrobe - Midler Chef Bouche - N'Doul Philippe ( the horse ) - Hol Horse Enchantress - Holy Kujo The Rest of the Servants - Dio's Tarot Servants

CLICK HERE FOR:

PART 2

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Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young nobleman lived in the great Joestar mansion. Although he had everything his heart desires, as he was a greatly ambitious man with high intellect, the nobleman was ruthless, selfish and unkind, enough so that he managed to poison his own adoptive father, who was kind enough to abide his debt to his biological father, albeit being, unbeknownst to him, the treachery of a vile, heartless and greedy man. And if that wasn't enough to show the merciless soul of the one and only greatest Lawyer of this land, the charming Dio Brando, he had to ruin the life of his adoptive brother and his wife as well...

But then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the mansion and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold.

Repulsed by the woman's haggard appearance, the nobleman sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress, with hair golden like the Sun's rays and eyes and eyes like the azure sky.

The prince tried to apologise, realising that he didn't yet possess such extraordinary powers, but it was much too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart, and as punishment, she transformed him into a huge, hideous, immortal beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there.

Dio Brando was transformed into a Vampire, as the rose's thorns entangled around him, almost as if they electrified him, as the Enchantress put a stone mask on his face, digging its spikes onto his otherwise gorgeous visage...

Ashamed of his monstrous form, despite the power he possessed, the Vampire concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world.

The rose she had offered, that before was used to transform him, morphed back to to its original, much less harmful appearance, which would grant him a painful immortality, as a lesson to learn how much despair and sorrow one who wishes to conquer the world must endure, watching every form of life wilt away around him.

However, if he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the 100 years predicted, when the last petal would fall, then the spell would be broken, and if will be able to live a normal life again.

If not, he would be doomed to waste away and remain a timeless beast until the Earth was no more.

As the years passed, he had countless women brought in by his charming appearance, by his alluring voice, by his never-ending wealth, but he was well aware that he loved none of those wenches, and clearly, neither truly loved him, but his power, so he fell into despair and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love such a beast that could easily snap a human's neck with merely his fingers, as if they are nothing more than a delicate dove?

--------

~ 100 Years Later ~

It was a beautiful morning, but not as beautiful as the cheerful young lady who skipped the stairs of her home, leaving with a basket in her hand and made her way into the town to do her daily routine, singing her heart out.

“Little town It's a quiet village Every day Like the one before Little town Full of little people Waking up to say...” she sang in a soft voice, in a way not being content with the usual conservatory routine of the little town, hidden away from most of the civilisation and modernisation of the other big-cities around.

“Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour!” everyone started greeting the young girl with happy grins on their faces. “There goes the baker with his tray, like always The same old bread and rolls to sell Every morning just the same Since the morning that we came To this poor provincial town” Y/N sang again, doing a little twirl as she greeted the tall man.

“Good morning, Y/N!” the baker greeted her as he took a few loaves of bread to sell at his boulangerie. “Good morning, monsieur Avdol!” she greeted back, in a polite voice. “Where you off to?” he asked, getting the loaves inside. “Mr. Kakyoin’s Bookshop. I just finished the most wonderful story! About elves and dwarves and dunedain and ...” she tried to tell him, her excitement obvious in her voice, but... “That’s nice. Iggy, the baguettes, hurry up!” the man interrupted her, obviously not having time for her fantasies. “Look there she goes, that girl is strange, no question Dazed and distracted, can't you tell?” 2 elderly women chanted as the girl merely sighed and walked away, used to how judgemental the people of this little town can be.

“Never part of any crowd 'Cause her head's up on some cloud No denying she's a funny girl that Y/N!” some other villagers sang together, as the girl went on her merry way towards the bookshop. “Bonjour, good day How is your family? Bonjour, good day How is your wife? I need six eggs That's too expensive!” every person around the market was singing in their own tune. “There must be more than this provincial life!” Y/N sang, a bit tired of this tiresome routine of close-minded people who didn’t want to broaden their horizons.

“Y/N!” Noriaki jolted from his chair, putting his book aside as he greeted the girl with as much enthusiasm as she did. “Good morning! I’ve come to return the book I borrowed.” she handed him the book, as she quickly climbed up the ladder, looking around for any new books. “Already?!” the red haired man looked at her with a slightly shocked, yet slightly amused expression. “Of course, I couldn’t put it down! Have you got anything new?” she asked, just in case, making the man chuckle in glee. “Haha, not since yesterday.” he explained, going to hold the ladder for her. “That’s all right, I’ll borrow this one.” she picked up a book, handing it to the man dressed in green. “That one? But you’ve read it twice!” Kakyoin chuckled, looking at the girl’s glazed eyes. “But it’s my favourite! Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, kings, princesses and dragons!” Y/N grinned widely, playfully hopping off the ladder. “If you like it all that much, it’s yours.” he put the book in her basket, guiding her outside. “But, Mr. Kakyoin-” she tried to object, but the man merely chuckled. “I insist!” he bowed slightly to her, smiling back. “Well, thank you! Thank you very much!” she chirped, already opening the book to start reading right away. “Look there she goes, that girl is so peculiar I wonder if she's feeling well!” the 3 men outside the bookshop sang, huddling together as the girl went past a group of children, hopped the skipping chord and patted the girl on the head. “With a dreamy, far-off look And her nose stuck in a book What a puzzle to the rest of us is Y/N!” the people in the alley sang, as the girl found her way to a fountain where a woman was washing laundry and a small flock of sheep were walking around. “Oh, isn't this amazing? It's my favorite part because you'll see Here's where she meets Faramir the Charming But she won't fall for him 'til chapter thirty-three!” she sang on the fountain to the two sheep that jumped next to her, but as one of them munch the corner of a page, she decided to start moving again. “Now it's no wonder that her nickname is Beauty Her looks have got no parallel” the woman at the beauty parlor sang, snatching her wig and putting a new hat on. “But behind that fair facade I'm afraid she's rather odd Very different from the rest of us.” the man accompanying her showed her the mirror to admire herself. “She's nothing like the rest of us Yes, different from the rest of us is Belle!” the rest of the villagers sang as she went on her merry way, not paying attention to any of them.

“Ora!” was heard, as a goose fell from the sky, and Polnareff quickly ran to put it in his bag. “You didn’t miss even one, Jotaro! You’re the greatest Stand User in the Whole World!” Polnareff praised the brunet man who only grunted, with a cocky smirk, and turned to walk away. “No Stand User stands against you! And no girl, for that matter.” the silver haired man chuckled lowly, nudging his friend. “True, Polnareff. And I’ve got my sights set on that one.” he pointed towards the reading girl who helped an elderly woman with her fruit basket. “The inventor’s daughter?!” Polnareff looked at his friend with a stupid face. “She’s the one. The lucky girl I’m going to marry. I’m so tired of my annoying grandpa pissing me off to marry, and all those stupid bitches fawning over me.” Jotaro scoffed, not even hearing his companion’s objections. “The only Stand User female in town. That makes her the best. And DON’T I deserve the best, considering this mess I’m in?” the brunet sneered in annoyance. “Well, of course you do, Jotaro, but-” PolPol tried to speak, but it was no use. “Right from the moment when I saw her and her Stand... Oh, Gimme a break. Here in town there's only she Who is powerful as me Yare Yare...Making plans to woo and marry Y/N.” Jotaro realised the girl was going farther away from him, so he had to follow her, as he tipped his hat.

“Look there he goes Isn't he dreamy? Monsieur Gaston Oh, he's so cute! Be still my heart I'm hardly breathing He's such a tall, dark, strong and handsome brute!” the 3 highschool girls that kept stalking Jotaro all day long sang, swooning to the ground. “Bonjour, pardon Good day, mais oui! You call this bacon, what lovely flowers Some cheese, ten yards, one pound, excuse me I'll get the knife Please let me through! This bread, those fish, it's stale, they smell! Madame's mistaken- Well, maybe so!” the busy market sang as the girl swiftly made her way through, without as much as bothering to look up from her book.

“There must be more than this provincial life!” Y/N sang her heart’s most burning desire. “Just watch, I'm going to make Y/N my wife!” Jotaro sang in a loud and sure tone as the rest of the villagers got in his way. “Look there she goes the girl is strange, but special A most peculiar mademoiselle! It's a pity and a sin She doesn't quite fit in 'Cause she really is a funny girl A beauty but a funny girl She really is a funny girl That Y/N!” everyone around chimed in, as Jotaro growled in rage, pushing the people away and using Star Platinum to jump on a house’s roof and jump in front of the girl, cutting her path.

“Y/N.” he tipped his hat, looking away. “Bonjour, Jotaro.” she greeted her highschool classmate, not bothering to look at him until he snatched away the book from her hands. “Jotaro, may I have my book back, please?” she asked in a low voice, not wanting to get irritated. “How can you read this? There’s no pictures.” he got the book sideways, making Star flip quickly through the pages. “Well, some people use their imagination.” she explained playfully, yet patiently. “Y/N, it’s about time you got your head out of those books and paid attention to more important things...Like me.” he humpfed, throwing her book in a puddle of mud.  “Riiiight.” she sighed, getting quickly on her knees to gingerly snatch away the book and use her Stand to fix the book. “The whole town’s talking about it. It’s not right for a woman to be so obsessed with her own fantasy world. Soon, she’ll start getting ideas and thinking, and worse, she will want a job and won’t want to settle for being a traditional housewife anymore.” Jotaro grumbled, knowing how stubborn the woman in front of him is. “Jotaro, you are positively primeval.” the girl ignored him, wiping the book’s hard cover gently. “Thank you, Y/N. What do you say you and me take a walk over to the tavern and take a look at all the trophies I’ve taken from the Stand Users I’ve beaten.” he snatched away the book once again, making the girl roll her eyes. “Maybe some other time.” she said, but still got pushed in that direction. “What’s wrong with her? She’s crazy! He’s goooorgeous!” the Bimbettes were fawning over him, gazing with heart eyes from the sidelines. “Please, Jotaro, I can’t. I have to get home to help my father. Goodbye!” she snatched away her book, waving him goodbye awkwardly as she rushed home. “That crazy old loon. He needs all the help he can get!” Polnareff insulted her father, making the brunet man chuckle with him. “Don’t talk about my father that way!” she scolded them, making them stop laughing immediately. “Yare Yare, Polnareff, how dare you talk about her father that way?!” Star Ora’d a bump to Pol’s head. “My father is not crazy. He’s a genius!” the girl scolded them angrily.

However, just as she said that, an explosion from her house was seen, so she ran that way to make sure he’s okay. Of course, apart from his pants getting ripped off, old man Roses was fine, if not, a bit irked, but the girl couldn’t help but chuckle at her dad’s silliness, as he grumpily said he’ll give up his invention.

The girl, knowing how her father can get, hugged him and encouraged him, telling him that he will win tomorrow’s fair and become a world-famous inventor without a doubt, which made the man quickly get back to his invention.

The girl asked her dad whether he thought she was odd or not, considering that she’s an introverted bookworm who was never interested in dating or any of those silly sports or activities that her other highschool classmates do, as she’d rather read a book.

She was feeling all alone in this little town - Apart from her father and Mr. Kakyoin - She had nobody to talk to.

When Roses asked about that Kujo Jotaro guy, the girl groaned, saying how sure, he’s attractive, but that’s just that -  He’s rude to his grandpa and to his friend, he’s conceited and a big jerk and a heartbreaker. So not her style.

In the meantime, her dad managed to make the invention work, so she went to prepare Hol Horse, their family horse, so he could go to the fair and hopefully win with this log-cutter invention, and bidding him farewell, Y/N went back inside the house to do some chores.

On their way to the fair, the father managed to get himself lost in the spooky woods, and Hol Horse quickly got scared by the many bats and wolf howls, so much that the poor horse almost ran off a cliff, making Roses fall off and watch in despair as Hol ran away, followed by hungry, mangy mutts.

Said wolves, however, started running after him, and he managed to find refuge behind some grandiose gates, inside the property of the great Joestar Manor. He knocked, but getting no answer, he timidly wandered inside, asking for a place to stay for the night, as the D’Arby brothers kept arguing in their furniture state.

Roses, shocked by the incredible wonder in front of him, picked up Terence, the Cogsworth, and started touching everywhere to understand how his mechanism worked well enough to even talk freely. Terence started blushing from embarrassment and anger, as he closed his little door, but the older man sneezed in his face because of the dust, making D’arby Jr. wipe away his screen with the clock pointers.

His elder brother, Daniel the Lumiere, was much more charming and sympathetic, guiding the man to warm himself by the fire, as the little brother was trying to stop them, afraid of their Master’s wrath.

Terence fell down the stairs and watched in horror as Daniel guided Roses to the Master’s chair, and if that wasn’t enough, Pet Shop, the Hawk who became a walking cushion chair, jumped on his clock head and flew under the elder man’s feet, not before getting pet, of course, and the clothes hanger offered a warm blanket politely.

Enyaba the Tea Pot came in a huge rush on a plate, along with her two little chipped tea cups, Oingo and Boingo, offering him some tea to warm up - The elderly man chose the youngest tea cup, Boingo, who started giggling because his mustache was tickling him, making the man chuckle fatherly.

Unfortunately for all their cheerful atmosphere, the  door was slammed open, revealing a huge beast-like man with wild mane-like blond hair, piercing amber eyes like a Hawk’s, and long black claw-like nails, growling at them, and putting out the fire in the fire place, making everyone tremble in their spot.

Dio Brando the most Fearful Vampire in the Land, the Beast that was thought to be nothing more than a mere, old urban legend of the village’s...But he was real.

Nobody could argue with their master’s decision as he picked up the man, glaring at him, telling him that he’s not welcomed here, and throwing him in a prison cell, not caring for any kind of explanation.

It was a grim night.

---

The next day, unbeknownst to Y/N, Jotaro and Polnareff, helped by Grandpa Joseph, made a cute little garden wedding for Jotaro and Y/N...That, before even proposing to the girl or even dating her.

Nonchalantly, he got into the girl’s house, as she was reading peacefully, and intimidatingly started walking around, telling her that today was the day all her dreams would come true, telling her his fantasies, their future life together, as she tried to walk away from him.

She manged to get the perfect opportunity as she leaned on the door and with the help of her Stand, opened said door and pushed him out, locking the door, putting his hat on the doorstep and watching as he fell into a huge puddle of mud.

As much as she was pissed off at that stupid cardboard head’s proposal, as she doesn’t want to limit herself to that provincial life, so she sang as she went into the garden, laying down between the flowers, saying how she’d hope someone would finally understand her thirst for knowledge and adventure...

That is, until she heard a loud neigh and Hol Horse galloped next to her, worrying her as her father was nowhere to be seen. Wasting no time, she got the carriage off his back and got a warm cloak, putting it around her, and jumped on the horse, letting it guide her to the huge Joestar Manor.

It was scary.

It was so scary that Hol Horse wanted to run away again, but the girl quickly jumped off of it as soon as she saw Roses’ hat inside the manor’s garden, so she realised she had to brave her fears and get inside the castle-like household, while all the furniture servants were talking between themselves, hoping that she was the fateful girl who would be able to break the spell.

Y/N kept looking around for her dad, until she got to the dungeons, as she called out for her Papa, until finally, someone responded - It was indeed her Papa, locked inside a cell, coughing, most likely ill.

“Your hands are like ice! We have to get you out of there.” she explained, holding his hand tightly as she looked around for a way to get him out of there. “Y/N, I want you to leave this place.” her father warned her, his eyes wide and filled with fright as he looked around to make sure there was no fiend around. “What?! I won’t leave you!” she gasped in shock at his words. “What are you doing here?” a growl was the only thing she heard as she was roughly pulled away from the door by the huge Vampire. “Who’s there? Who are you?” she asked, trying to gather herself from the floor. “It is me, DIO, the master of this castle.” a low, yet alluring voice came from the shadows as Dio Brando lurked around like a ghost in the darkness. “I’ve come for my father! Please, let him out! Can’t you see he’s sick?!” she pleaded, crawling to her father’s side, behind the barred door, as she strained her eyes to get a better look at his captor. “Then he SHOULDN’T have trespassed here!” Dio growled his answer, towering over the pleading girl. “But he could die! Please, I-I..I’ll do anything!” she begged him with all her heart, but the Beast in front of her merely turned away from that pitiful sight. “There’s nothing you can do. He’s my prisoner.” Dio spoke in a low voice, walking away. “There must be some way I can...WAIT!” she yelled out loud, catching the Vampire’s attention. “...Take me instead.” she declared in a much softer voice, almost inaudible, were it not for his fine hearing. “You?!...Why would YOU take his place? You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you, and you’d rather waste it away, rotting in such a place, just to offer this geezer’s a few years more to live?” the blond man prowled in front of the petite girl, towering over her, looking at her with a foreign shock and curiosity. “Y/N, no! You don’t know what you’re doing!” her father tried to beg her not to do something so foolish. “He’s my father...He’s the only person who ever believed, cared and loved me, from all that town filled with hypocrites, ingrates and close-minded low-lives. I’d do anything to know he’s okay...So...If I were to take his places...Would you let him go?” her voice was filled with both anger at the village and the way they treated her, but also sorrow, for having to choose to be separated from her papa, because of such an unfortunate twist of events. “Yes. But you must promise to stay here forever. Are you willing to make such a sacrifice for someone else?” he asked, in a voice, almost as if she was making a pact with the devil himself. “...Come into the light.” she demanded, and without much hesitation, the man stepped into the moonlight offered by the crack in the ceiling, making the girl gasp and step back, hitting her back to the wall seeing the man that was almost twice her size in height and at least 10 times in muscle weight, as his elongated teeth were shining like a predator’s. “No, Y/N, I won’t let you do this!” her father pleaded, but with one last look at him, the girl knew she had to do anything in her power to save him, the way he saved her every day. “You have my word.” she walked in front of the Beast, who looked at her with mild interest, before nodding slightly.

As the Vampire walked past her to liberate the old man, the girl’s knees weakened from so many pent up emotions, and she fell to the ground, while Roses hugged her tightly, trying to change her mind.

But the Beast already had his mind set - The girl was his and his alone.

As Dio hurried to throw the old man into a carriage, ordering to be sent back to the village, he noticed the girl huddled by a little window, crying her eyes out, all the regret in her heart for not even be allowed to say her final goodbyes.

Something in the blond man’s heart seemed to break, even though he thought that heart to be there no more, but this...This was something that he never expected to ever feel in this life.

“I’ll show you to your room.” he ordered the girl, as she looked at him with confusion in her wide fawn-like eyes. “R-Room? But...I thought...?” she stuttered, looking around in the tower room her father was once imprisoned in. “Would you rather stay in this tower? If not, then follow me.” Dio tsked, not even waiting for an answer as he made his way to one of the guest rooms.

The girl followed close after, being scared and still tearing up softly as she looked left and right to see creepy gargoyle and monster-like statues, as the only source of light offered came from Daniel’s little candle fire.

“Say something to her, she’s in distress! Be the British Gentleman you were born as!” the Lumiere whispered, urging his Master to do something. “...I hope this place will be to your liking...This Mansion is your home as well as it is mine and the servants’ now, therefor you are allowed to go anywhere to your heart’s content, save for the west wing.” the blond explained the castle’s places to go, but of course, Y/N was a curious girl and she wanted answers. “Why, what’s in the west wing-” she tried to ask, only to be cut off swiftly. “It’s forbidden.” Dio turned to glare at her for a split second, making her eek  in surprise, before continuing his way to her room, opening the door for her. “Should you need anything, you need only just ask, and my servants will attend to you.” he said, almost robotically. “Dinner! Invite her to dinner!” Daniel nudged his master, as he nodded. “You shall join me for dinner. That is an order, not a request.” Dio slammed the door shut behind him, letting the girl groan in frustration and fright, jumping on the bed to sob her feelings away.

At the same time, Jotaro was growling and drinking his anger away, as Polnareff tried to pacify his friend who felt disgraced by that simpleton woman’s rejection. The silver haired man started singing as he tried to cheer him up.

“No one's slick as JoJo No one's quick as JoJo No one's neck's as incredibly thick as JoJo's For there's no man in town half as manly Perfect, a pure paragon!” Polnareff sang, taking out Silver Chariot and strangling Joots with a belt, only to see the leather snap with ease at a simple flex. “You can ask any Koichi, Okuyasu, or Josuke! And they'll tell you whose team they prefer to be on!”  the silver haired man chirped proudly as he got picked up.

“No one's big like JoJo A king pin like JoJo!” the 1-Braincell trip chanted, most likely drunk.

“No one's got a swell cleft in his chin like JoJo!” Polnareff grinned, poking his chin.

“Yare Yare Daze...Of course, I’m an intimidating man.” Jotaro flexed his arms, taking out Star Platinum who mimicked his action.

“My, what a guy, that JoJo Give five "hurrahs!" Give twelve "hip-hips!" JoJo is the best And the rest is all drips!” the crown from the Tavern, along with the French man, sang cheerfully, until the latter managed to throw beer at Jotaro’s face, angering him.

“No one fights like JoJo Douses lights like JoJo In a wrestling match nobody bites like JoJo!” Jotaro Ora’d the hell out of Polnareff with his Star Platinum, as he himself jumped on the table, wrestling all the men there. 

“For there's no one as burly and brawny“ the three Bimbettes sang, having heart eyes watching the man show off. “As you see I've got biceps to spare.” effortlessly, Star lifted the bench on which the 3 girls were sitting.

“Not a bit of him's scraggly or scrawny” the silver haired man got up, nudging the brunet.  

“That's right! And ev'ry last inch of me's covered with hair.“ the lad ripped off the tank top he had underneath his school uniform jacket.

“No one hits like JoJo Matches wits like JoJo!“ the crowd chanted, as Jotaro flipped the checkers table in anger, realising he was going to lose.

“In a spitting match nobody spits like JoJo!” Polnareff giggled like a schoolgirl, making his friend glare at him.

“Don’t even think about it.” Jotaro sneered at him.

“When I was a wee lad, I ate four dozen bentos my mother made me Ev'ry morning to help me get large And now that I'm grown, I eat five dozen bentos So I'm roughly the size of a barge.” Jotaro smirked widely, flexing and showing off.

“No one shoots like JoJo Makes those beauts like JoJo!” the crown sang merrily as the brunet man used Star Finger to make holes in a barrel and let beer fall as if it was a fountain.

“Then goes tromping around wearing boots like JoJo!” Polnareff screamed loudly to be heard from all the loud stomping Jotaro did as he slumped back in his throne-like red chair. 

“I use enemy Stand Users’ heads in all of my decorating.” he showed off, pointing on the large wall filled with trophy heads.

“Say it again Who's a man among men? And then say it once more Who's the hero next door? Who's a super success? Don't you know? Can't you guess? Ask his fans and his five hangers-on There's just one guy in town who's got all of it down” the crowd chanted as they raised up the chair he was in, but dropped them on Polnareff’s poor back.

“And his name's J--O--T--A... J--O--O--T--S... J--O--E--S--......”  the silver haired man tried his best to spell breathlessly from under the chair, but with no luck, so he let the rest of the people chant his friend’s name.

KUJO JOTARO!

Just as they finished the song, Roses barged into the tavern, asking for help, but of course, nobody believed him, so he was thrown out of the pub as everyone kept laughing -

Until Jotaro smirked, realising that he could use the influence his grandpa has as the Asylum owner, and if he throws the old man there, Y/N would surely fall to his feet and marry him!

“No one plots like JoJo” the two friends’ Stands started dancing around the tavern together, celebrating the future victory of their unbeatable plan.

“Takes cheap shots like JoJo” Jotaro sang, as Star Platinum lifted Silver Chariot in the air.

“Plans to persecute harmless crackpots like JoJo” Polnareff laughed obnoxiously.

“So, his marriage we soon will be celebrating! My what a guy JoJo!” everyone in the pub chanted loudly and cheerfuly.

---

Returning back to Y/N’s room, a soft knock on the door woke her up from the trance of tears, and she soon realised that Old Enyaba, along with Oingo and Boingo came to help her calm down...

But how could this be possible? A walking, talking tea pot? Tea cups as well? Her surprise was even bigger as she bumped into Midler, the cheerful wardrobe, so of course, despite how bewildering this...Everything was...

She couldn’t help herself but sit on the ground and drinking the little tea that Boingo could fit.

“That was a rather brave thing you did, dear, if not, a tad foolish." Enyaba spoke in a grandma-like voice. “We all think so...” Midler spoke in a sympathetic voice. “But...I’ve lost everything. My father, my dreams, my future, my sense of self...” Y/N sighed, an obvious sad look on her face. “Cheer up, child, it will turn out all right in the end, that much, I can predict, you’ll see. Oh, listen to me, jabbering on, while there’s supper to get on the table. Oingo, Boingo, let’s go!” Enyaba jumped out of the room, as the two brother cups said their goodbyes. “Hmmm, what shall we dress you in tonight? Let’s see what I got in my drawers!...! OOPS! Haha...How embarrassing...” Midler laughed awkwardly as some moths got out of her, before taking out a cute, little pink dress. “Oh, you’ll look ravishing in this one!” “That’s very kind of you, but I’m not going to dinner.” the girl tried to say, but just then, Terence came to tell her that dinner is served.

Down in the dining room, the Master was stomping around the room mindlessly, waiting for the girl to come, as he snapped impatiently at his servants who were just as anxious as he was.

Of course, they were all aware that this was the only opportunity they had to make the pair fall in love, but Dio was cursing himself out loud for allowing that damn enchantment to mess with appearance, no longer looking as charming as a prince as 100 years ago.

Dio was desperate, he wanted his life back, but he had no idea how to make himself be presentable and calm in front of this contemporary damsel that he caused the distress of. 

He was just like the dragon who kidnapped the princess and kept her in imprisoned, so he’d be surely damned before he would ever be able to make her fall in love with him.

As Enyaba and Daniel tried to give him the basic tips and remind him how to be a proper gentleman, Terence came, fumbling on his words...Until he spewed that the girl won’t be attending dinner...

Which is when the Vampire snapped and letting out a pitched “WRYYYYYYY”, he stomped his way quickly to the girl’s new room, banging harshly on the door.

“I suggest you get out of that room, otherwise I will break the door!” he yelled, clawing at the door in anger.

“Uh...Master...I could be wrong but...I doubt that is how you will gain her affections.” Daniel spoke awkwardly. “Please! Attempt to be a gentleman!” Terence pleaded his master. “But she is being so difficult!” Dio sneered lowly, throwing his arm dramatically to point at the door. “Gently! Geeeeently!” Enyaba tried to pacify his master, as he took a deep breath, trying to control himself. “Will you come down to dinner?” he asked, this time in a scorned, yet low, feign-calmer voice. “No!” was her only interjection, that made the blond man grit his teeth, glaring at his servants, to make them realise she couldn’t be reasoned with. “Suave! Geeentle!” Terence tried to speak in a softer voice. “...It would give me great pleasure if you would join me for dinner...Please.” he managed to say, albeit with a lot of pauses to calm himself. “No, thank you!” she called out from inside the room. “I AM DIO BRANDO, YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME FOREVER, I AM THE MASTER OF THIS PLACE! Even if you attempt to hide behind that door, you can’t stay there forever!” Dio yelled at her in an obviously angry voice. “Watch me!” was the only thing she replied. “FINE! Then go ahead and STARVE, you spoiled little missy!...If she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all!” Dio’s voice echoed throughout the whole mansion, making the servants icky with fear and disappointment.

“Older brother, stand watch at the door and see if anything changes.” Terence ordered his elder brother. “Oui, mon frere!” Daniel nodded with a military salute as he started guarding the door. “Well, we might as well go downstairs and start cleaning up.” Terence sighed, as him as Enyaba went to help with the cleaning up.

In the West wing, the room that was trashed already from top to bottom, except for a crystal-glass bell in which the magic rose was being trapped, Dio Brando stormed inside said place, grumbling and destroying even more of the furniture to ease his frustration.

“I ask her nicely to dine with me, and she refuses! The nerve! The audacity of that wench! What does she want me to do, beg?! I, Dio Brando, will NEVER beg! Mirror, show me the girl!” he roughly grabbed the mirror, spying on his new captive, and seeing Midler try to console her, trying to tell her that he is not so bad once you get to know him, but the girl was nothing but stubborn, which angered him even more...Or maybe that was just the last bit of hope he had getting stomped on. “That stupid enchantress...Doing something as despicable as this to me...This stupid girl will never be able to see the Dio from 100 years ago, no matter what I do. I’m no JoJo, and she’s no Erina. I guess monsters like me are fated to forever wallow in misery and self-pity their whole life. This was hopeless from the beginning.” he sighed, putting down the mirror gently as he watched another petal fall of the rose.

Back to Y/N’s room, the girl slowly opened the door, peeking to see if anyone was looking around, and seeing the coast clear, she tip toed out of there...As her guard, Daniel, was busy fooling around with Mariah the Featherduster behind the courtains, giggling and flirting like no tomorrow...Until the Lumiere noticed Y/N which made him let Mariah fall to the ground, not even hearing her cursing him.

“Zut alors! She has emerged!” he gasped in shock as the girl made her way to the Kitchens, where she was greeted by Terence, at first, only to have Daniel get in front of him, get her hand, kissing the back of it, and wiggling his eyebrows at her. “Enchante, cherie~!” “If there’s anything we can do to make your stay here more comfortable...” Terence tried to say, before his elder brother burnt his butt with a candle fire. “Well, I guess I’m a bit hungry.” she smiled at them in amusement. “You are? Hear that, she’s hungry! Stoke the fire! Break out the silver, wake the china!” Enyaba started ordering all the dishes to come out at once. “Remember what the master said...!” Terence started sweating in despair. “Pish tosh! I’m not about to let the poor child go hungry!” Enyaba cackled like an old hag. “She’s our guest! We must make her feel welcome here! Right this way, mademoiselle~!” Daniel guided them to the dining room, much to his brother’s anxiety attack. “We- We must be quiet! If the master finds out...” he tried to explain, but Daniel had none of it. “Of course, of course! But what is a dinner without a little music~?”

Daniel brought Y/N to the long banquet table as he started singing and entertaining the girl, so she won’t have to think bad because of what happened before.

"Ma chere Mademoiselle, it is with deepest pride And greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight And now we invite you to relax, let us pull up a chair As the dining room proudly presents Your dinner!" he spoke in his usual suave voice as he put on a sort-of hat, and the dishes were slowly dancing around him.

“Be our guest, be our guest Put our service to the test Tie your napkin 'round your neck, cherie And we'll provide the rest!” he sang as a few dishes were brought in front of her.

“Soup du jour, hot hors d'oeuvres Why, we only live to serve Try the grey stuff, it's delicious Don't believe me, ask the dishes!” as he opened a tray of little food samples for her to try.

“They can sing, they can dance After all, miss, this is France And a dinner here is never second best!” Daniel sang as the dished from the cupboard got in a formation to resemble the Eiffel Tower.

“Go on, unfold your menu Take a glance and then you'll Be our guest oui, our guest Be our guest!” the Lumiere gave the girl a menu for her to look at. “Beef ragout, cheese soufflé Pie and pudding, on flambé We'll prepare and serve with flair A culinary cabaret!” he continued as a ton of dished danced and sang in front of her, and of course, she couldn’t stop herself and took a bite.

“You're alone and you're scared But the banquet's all prepared No one's gloomy or complaining While the flatware's entertaining!” the spoons started diving inside the punch bowl, like sync dancing in the water.

“We tell jokes, I do tricks With my fellow candlesticks” Daniel was thrown into the air as he used the little flames on his candles to do little firecracker tricks. “And it's all in perfect taste that you can bet Come on and lift your glass You've won your own free pass To be our guest if you're stressed It's fine dining we suggest Be our guest, be our guest, be our guest!” the ale, wine, water and mead caraffas started dancing, pulling Terence along with them. “Life is so unnerving For a servant who's not serving He's not whole without a soul to wait upon Ah, those good old days when we were useful Suddenly those good old days are gone Too long we've been rusting Needing so much more than dusting Needing exercise, a chance to use our skills! Most days we just lay around the castle Flabby, fat and lazy You walked in and oops-a-daisy!”  as the salt started falling down Terence, his elder brother started throwing him around, as if he was dancing with him, until he threw him inside the green jelly, then propelling him away again.

“It's a guest, it's a guest Sake's alive, well I'll be blessed! Wine's been poured and thank the Lord I've had the napkins freshly pressed With dessert, she'll want tea And my dear that's fine with me While the cups do their soft-shoein' I'll be bubbling, I'll be brewing I'll get warm, piping hot Heaven's sakes! Is that a spot? Clean it up, we want the company impressed We've got a lot to do! Is it one lump or two?” Enyaba sang cheerfully, preparing the napkins, the pots with the hot food, and the little cups.

“For you, our guest (she's our guest) She's our guest (she's our guest) Be our guest, be our guest! Our command is your request It's been years since we've had anybody here And we're obsessed With your meal, with your ease Yes, indeed, we aim to please!” the flower holders all went to Y/N for her to admire and sniff in the gorgeous flowers’ smell, while all the plates, forks, knives, spoons and cups were dancing together, getting on their spot on the long table.

“While the candlelight's still glowing Let us help you, we'll keep going...” everyone sang as the candeholders all got up on by one, letting Daniel have the spotlight, on top of one of the cakes.

“Course by course, one by one 'Til you shout, "enough I'm done!" Then we'll sing you off to sleep as you digest Tonight you'll prop your feet up But for now, let's eat up!” Daniel sang as he danced some cabaret, while the the illuminated chandelier, along with a few other coloured lights, came down from behind the courtains, revealing the forks dancing cabaret as well, as the featherdusters all went behind Terence to join the dance.

“Be our guest Be our guest Be our guest Please, be our guest” everyone danced and sang merrily as all the bubbly champagne bottles popped open, making the girl join in the singing, clapping happily, her eyes sparkling with glee and admiration at the incredible show they all put together just for her, along with the tons of dishes she was surrounded by.

“Bravo, that was absolutely wonderful!” she grinned widely in appreciation. “Thank you! Haha, thank you, mademoiselle! Good show, wasn’t it, everyone?...Mon Dieu, look at the time! Now it’s off to bed, off to bed!” Terence tried to usher her back to bed after eating the best meal of her life. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly go to bed now! It’s my first time in an enchanted castle!” she clapped in glee. “E-Enchanted? Who said anything about enchanted...?...IT WAS YOU, WASN’T IT?!” Terence growled at his elder brother, starting to beat him up. “I...Figured it out by myself.” she chuckled in amusement as she parted the quarreling brothers. “I’d like to look around...If that’s alright, of course.” she got out from her seat, looking to her surroundings as if she was a curious meerkat. “Would you like a tour?” Daniel asked charmingly. “Wait a second. Wait a second! I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. We...Can’t let her go poking around in certain places, if you know what I mean.” Terence nudged his elder brother. “Hmm...Perhaps you’d like to take me? I’m sure you know everything there is to know about the castle.” she winked at him, as he couldn’t help but blush. “I...Well...Actually...Oui, je sais.” Terence chuckled awkwardly as he took the girl on a tour, telling her about Baroque and Rococo designs, until he realised she was going to the stairs to the West Wing, and they tried to stop her, but to no avail...

Until they mentioned the Library, and she feigned she was going with them, as they walked ahead, and she went ahead to see what was so interesting in the West Wing that was forbidden.

The place was trashed, unlike any other, and the statues were much scarier. Walking down the creepy corridor, she got in front of this grand door that had a golden beast as a handle, and taking a deep breath, she mustered the courage to go venture inside and look around the room that was nothing more than a ruin she had no idea what to make of.

Looking around, she noticed a big portrait of a man, but it was clawed...So she gingerly put together the parts, revealing a very handsome young man, holding a lawyer’s degree...The man had shiny blond hair and amber eyes...

That man was definitely Dio Brando before he transformed into the frightening beast that he is now.

However, he eyes weren’t enchanted by the gorgeous man for too long, as a little pink shine captured her attention in the corner of her eye, and she noticed a single red-pink rose, floating and glittering inside a glass bell, around it a pink aura that seemed nothing less than magical.

The girl’s curiosity doomed her, as she took off the bell to get a better look at the flower, yet afraid to touch it at first, as it was mesmerising... But it was captivating, it was enchanting, and she couldn’t stop herself as her fingers slowly started inching towards its petals...

Only for a huge shadow to loom over her, as the Vampire came out of nowhere, no sound of movement detected, and he quickly covered the rose again, towering over the girl, glaring and speaking in a dark, threatening voice.

“Why did you come her?! Have you no mind or recollection of what I just said earlier? This place is FORBIDDEN, and for a reason!” his voice was frightening to say the least, making her eyes go wide as saucers from the huge temperament change. “I-I’m really sorry! Curiosity got the best of me and...” she kept stuttering, her hands of in defense as she tried to step back away from him. “I WARNED you NEVER to come here!” he yelled roughly the emphasised words. “I didn’t mean any harm, I’m really sorry!” she tried to calm him down, but he only got angried. “DO YOU REALISE WHAT YOU COULD HAVE DONE?!” he growled, almost animalistic, his long, white fangs now looking even more threatening than before, as he backhanded a desk, breaking it. “Dio, please stop, you’re scaring me!” she glued her back to a broken wardrobe in fear. “GET OUT! GEEEEEET OOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!” he started trashing around like wild, making the girl yelp in fear, as she ran away, taking her cloak and getting out of the mansion.

She didn’t care about the D’Arby brothers’ siblings, nor about the promise or the harsh blizzard going on outside, since winter was rougher than usual - She climbed up on Hol Horse and galloped the hell out of there, hoping to get home, but the road was filled with surprises as the Horse got scared from the big group of wolves that started jumping at him.

He could only run away, unfortunately stomping too hard on the frozen lake, falling in, but somehow managing to get back to the snowy ground...But so did the wolves. In its fear, the Horse kept bucking to his hind legs, making its reins somehow knot themselves on a branch and throwing off the girl, as it tried to fend off the predators. 

Y/N, in fear, got the nearest wooden bat branch she found, trying not to let the hungry pack bite her, trashing around with the bat aimlessly, until one of the wolves managed to bite and tug the wood from her arms, leaving her defenseless, as another one jumped on her, getting her by the cloak and throwing her to the ground, as another tried to jump and maul her.

By good fortune, the girl and her horse were saved by Dio who arrived just in time, letting out a mighty WRYYY and yelling “ZA WARUDO”...And the next time she blinked, there were no more wolves...They disappeared like magic...And all she could see was a big, yellow Stand.

That Stand disappeared quickly, before the girl could even say that she could see it, as the man fell to the ground, panting in exhaustion, a few wounds on him.

“It’s been such a long time since I used my Stand, that I can’t even do it properly anymore. How pitiful of me...To get wounded by some mangy mutts...I should’ve burned them, like I did with JoJo’s stupid Danny.” he growled in a low voice as he fainted to the ground.

The girl then wrapped her cloak around his figure, then made the horse get down so she could get him on and back to the mansion to treat his wounds.

He was obviously weakened when she helped him on his chair by the fire...He couldn’t even look at her from the shame and anger he had in his heart.

“I saw you’re a Stand User...Well, so am I. Will you let me heal you, Dio? It’s the least I can do after you saved me.” she asked him, as she sat kneeling by his side, trying to get a hold of his wounded arm. “No.” he replied as stubbornly as she did before. “What?! Just-...Just hold still!” she took out her beautiful, light blue Stand and used the water it conjured to heal the wound...But not without the Vampire letting out a pitched WRYYYYYYYYY as he yanked his arm back. “IT HURTS!!!” he yelled in her face, but she only frowned. “You’re a century old Vampire and you whine about some sting?! Just hold still and it won’t hurt as much!” she raised her tone at him. “If were to drink the blood from your body, I’d have no more wounds! Besides, none of this would have happened if you hadn’t run away!” he spoke back just as cheeky. “If you hadn’t frightened me, I wouldn’t have run away!” she scoffed, spitting back her comeback. “Well...You shouldn’t have been in the West Wing!” he shot right back after a second of thinking. “Well, you should learn to control your temper!...Now hold still, this might sting a little, but that’s how healing works. At least it has a pretty fast effect.” she said as her Stand carefully started healing his arm, as she held his hand. “By the way...Thank you for saving my life.” she spoke in a much softer voice than before. “...You’re welcome. I won’t take your blood either.” Dio scoffed, turning his back away...But his amber eyes still glanced to the side to take a peek at her.

The whole night was much better for the two of them, and they thought there was nothing else that could possibly disturb their peace for now on...

However, unbeknownst to any of the Mansion’s residents, the one and only Kujo Jotaro, the great great great grandson of his rival and step-brother, but also, the only man he ever respected in his life, was plotting revenge along with grandpa Joseph Joestar, the Asylum’s director...

And that revenge was something nobody could ever expect.

Kujo Jotaro was nothing less than an ambitious man who ALWAYS got his way when he was pissed off.

Click here for

PART 2

[heartbreakgrill]

Serious; Luke Hemmings (Pt. 2)

a/n: I have so much drama in my heart❤️

description: he came with the fall of the leaves and left with winter cold. maybe, this time, he’d stay.

It didn’t feel like five days had passed; but they did.

Luke came each morning, every single one. The first one, a Tuesday, he was bearing coffee and donuts- your favorite flavor of each. The fact that he remembered surprised, as well as the gentle kiss he lay upon your forehead when you answered the door.

You hadn’t expected him that early- 7 am. He’d remembered you woke up at that time, too. You’d slept for nearly 12 hours, exhausted from your reunion on Monday, and already feeling the emotional distress you’d experience in a week. When he knocked, you were still in bed, having naturally woken, but snuggled up in your phone. The sheets still smelled like him, so you slept on the side in which he’d lay. It was warm when you first moved, not long after he’d left, but the heat slipped into your bones and replaced itself with the shape of the air in your apartment.

You fumbled out of bed, slipping on the forgotten socks from yesterday, a random t-shirt- his, random, Van Halen shirt- and pajama bottoms. You hastily tied your hair back as you neared the door, barely peering through the peephole before swinging it open.

He smiled softly at you, adored by the way your face was flushed and puffy, sleep in your eyes and a yawn creeping up your throat. He stepped in, hands full of a bag of donuts and a holder for two coffees. Luke stepped inside, towering over you, and kissing your forehead. You blushed, shutting the door softly as he found his place at a stool at your kitchen island.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he finally spoke.

You burned under his stare, carefully removing your coffee cup and accepting the donut he held out to you. “G’morning.”

“Did you sleep well? You fell fast in my lap,” he laughed a little bit, but his voice was gruff from obvious exhaustion.

You shrugged and sat next to him. He turned on his still to face you, knees knocking against your own. There were slits in his black jeans, allowing the white skin beneath to kiss your own. It was a simple gesture, but your heart swooned.

Why was he being so affectionate?

“Yeah, I did,” you furrowed your brows, teeth biting off a hunk of donut.

As you chewed, he replied, “Good. I’m obviously still tired. Jet lags a bitch.”

Luke watched as you ate, drank every once and again, your eyes boring into the kitchen floor and feet swinging back and forth. Your brows stayed drawn together, expression full of something he couldn’t quite reach.

“You okay?” His voice dropped in volume, stepping carefully around you.

You swallowed firmly before meeting his gaze, head turning up. “Why are you being so affectionate?”

Luke grinned at this. You automatically bit your lip, face scrunching up in a, ‘oops.’

He reached for your hand, twisting the fingers between his own. “I wanna make last year up to you. It was a shitty thing to do, when I stopped messaging back. I mean, everything I did was shitty. So I’m trying to redeem myself.”

You frowned deeply, “So it’s...pity?”

Luke suddenly looked shocked, his face that of a heartbroken puppy dog. He had changed so much; the strong, guarded heart of a rockstar had morphed into a confident, yet somewhat vulnerable sweetheart.

You firmly gripped his hand, as he stuttered. “No-no. I’m sorry it seems like that. It’s not like I’m doing this just because I feel bad. I do have feelings for you, I-“

“Feelings?” You braced yourself, a smile inching up your neck.

Luke flushed this time, the heat prickling the tips of his ears which stuck out from the hair tucked behind them. He shrugged, “Yeah. I’ve always had feelings for you and just being around you again brought them back.”

“And this time you’re not completely taken up,” you mumbled. You stood from the stool and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

He embraced your waist, thumbs circling into your hipbones. “I’m all yours.”

“Okay,” you scrunched your noses before leaning into a kiss.

You didn’t believe him.

-

On Wednesday, you decided to actually go out and do something. He had to be back earlier today for an extra long sound check, because at yesterday’s show, his mic was screwed up. So, you got dressed before he was even there, messages from last night planning out your day.

He’d unblocked you on Snapchat, followed you with his private account on Instagram. Luke had sent you dozens of videos and photos from the night prior: A mirror selfie with the caption, ‘I kinda wanna do makeup onstage;’ a video of his outfit, the crowd from backstage, when he was out drinking afterwards. You sent back just as many selfies, feeling elated by the attention and affection (pretty girl, baby, heart eyes, kisses, blushing emojis.)

You were trying to grasp into the moments as best you could because you knew it would be over. Yeah, you’d talk for a month or two, and then he’d get back into the LA nightlife and fall back into step with his groupies for the rest of your. You would take what you could, knowing you could never have his entire heart.

You took Luke to private locations most tourists wouldn’t frequent: Underground coffee and record shops, trying way too many frappes and kissing foam off his lips. He wore a baseball cap, sunglasses, and an all black outfit, trying to just fit in with the rest of the crowds. At one point, someone pointed at Luke, but you watched to see him and his friend seemed to agree that it wasn’t Luke.

Your day ended at 1 pm, on the steps leading up to your apartment building. You were on the step above him, bags hanging off your wrists from the things he’d insisted on buying you. Luke had a hold on your waist, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips.

Though you were giggling, leaning in for more, you felt so out of place.

After he left, you unpacked the few things he bought you and showered. Your skin felt loose, like it was void of a brain and skeleton, yours hanging up in the closet. You scrubbed at it just to feel a little bit of stinging as if it would ground you.

It was an awful feeling, being a stranger to yourself.

But this was so unlike you.

You, adult you, mature you would turn him away and tell him to fuck off. You’d been a side chick without even knowing it until he went back home, and continued to put out for a taken man until he turned you away. And he broke your heart, telling you he couldn’t leave his girlfriend for, ‘some fling he’d had.’

Yeah, ghosting you didn’t mean he didn’t give you his two-cents before doing so.

But you were so, so lonely. And men like him came once every lifetime.

So, on Thursday, you woke up with the intentions of going to his show.

He’d texted you to let you know he couldn’t bring you coffee today because the guys were suspecting him of something. You sent back a frowning selfie in his tshirt, teasing him with skin and lips.

He came over an hour later.

Hands, hips, perfume and cologne infused into bare skin and transferring between oils and kisses.

He’d told them he was meeting a friend, even had someone to cover for him, and got out just to see you naked beneath him.

It felt good being his priority, even if it was only for three percent of his life.

When your chest returned to a normal breathing pattern, you curled into his side again, let his hands cover your back and hair, his lips your own in lazy patterns of some sleepless song. Your lips formed words now, exchanging secret dreams in the morning.

“I don’t know how you handle the fame,” you’d said after a few words exchanged about his career.

Something about guitars splintering his fingers (which you knew, you’d felt them) and being exhausted all the time, unless he was home for more than two days.

Luke huffed, “I don’t know either. I can’t even get a fucking slice of pizza without being followed.”

“I almost,” you hesitated, “I almost feel bad for you.”

His warm breath rolled over your skin and it shifted in rhythm when you said this. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you wiggled around slightly, “I just wish you could have your career without all the crazy fans.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Luke agreed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them. Without them, I’d have nothing. But the ones who come to the airport and follow us around and spam our inboxes on Twitter make me want to give up everything just to have a normal life.”

“I know I could never do it,” you laughed.

But the air froze. “What do you mean?”

“I,” you began and moved in his arms to look at him better, “I could never give up my privacy for fame. For anything, honestly. I wanna be able to go on dates or walk down the street without photos being taken. God, how do you even have a private relationship like that?”

Luke sat up, his arms lightly pushing you off of him. You hugged the sheets to your body, taken back by his attitude.

“So you couldn’t be in a relationship with me?”

Your brows furrowed, fingers lightly resting onto his bicep. “What?”

“You couldn’t bear all that, sacrifice all that, for me?” Lukes faze was fierce, sharp.

Luke suddenly stood, shoving on clothes and shoes in a flash. You stood, following him to the door, “Luke! Luke, what’s going on?”

Your mouth hung open, grasping for words that wouldn’t come. “I...I don’t know that you can ask that of me.”

He stopped at the front door, hand grasping the handle so that his knuckles were white. Luke turned to face you, his expression making your shoulders roll forward in vulnerability.

“What are doing this for, then? You just using me for a couple days?”

You scoffed, anger fueling confidence you wished you didn’t have. “Oh, be fucking honest to yourself, Luke. Do you really think this is going past next week? You’ll forget about me again, or you’ll suddenly tell me you’re in a relationship and my time will have been wasted. Thanks for the sex, but maybe it’s my turn to break your heart.”

“Oh, so it is just for these two weeks, then? When did you plan on telling me you didn’t want me like I want you?” Luke spat back.

You laughed sardonically, “Oh, come on! When are you going to lose the facade? Luke, we haven’t spoken in a year, and when we did speak, it was for maybe two months. You barely know a thing about me. You don’t know my mannerisms or where i even want to be in five years. But, hey! Maybe you’ll stop by again, every year, make it a fucking tradition. Come back when you’re in New York or simply when you’re horny, I’ll get you off, and you can ask me how the careers going.”

Luke went quiet. He cleared his throat, but the simple noise cracked from the tears in his eyes. “I have to go to sound check. Can we just stop this for now? Please.”

“I don’t think I can come to the show tonight,” you replied, backing away with a few steps.

Luke nodded, “I figured.”

Despite the tension, the unfinished argument, the inevitable heartbreak, you both reached for the other and embraced a tight ‘for-now’ truce. He kissed you and left.

And he came back the next day, and the next.

TAGLIST: @mantlereid , @boxofteenageideas @dinosaursandsocks , @ashhdaniellee95 @stephaniemelvie @zhangyixingxing1 @verlaneswiftie13 @kingxnichole

[xfandomwritingsx]

Long Time Coming

-gif source-

Description: You and Hopper finally give into each other.

Warnings/Labels: Sexual themes.

Approx. Word Count:

A/N: This is my first Hopper fic and frankly I have so many ideas for Hopper fics in my head that my full attention was not in this specific one and my mind kept wandering and jumping so, forgive me if it’s not the best. EDIT I DON’T KNOW WHY THIS DISAPPEARED BUT HERE IT IS AGAIN

It’s shortly after midnight and you’re standing at the Jim Hopper’s counter completely unable to sleep. You had come over early in the evening to cook him dinner, having always joked that he needed something that didn’t come out of a box every once in a while. El was staying the night at Max’s house and once the storm rolled in, you both decided it would be better if you just stayed the night at the cabin. That storm, however, also kept you from falling asleep on his couch.

“Can’t sleep?” You saw his dark form out of the corner of your eye just a half second before he spoke, but you still jump, hand coming to your chest and body tightening.

“Jesus, Hop,” you breathe out, trying to make it sound like a bit of a laugh. “You scared the shit out of me.” Thunder roars outside and a flash of lightning illuminates the room for a moment.

“Sorry about that.” He’s in sweatpants and a large, pastel colored robe. You recognize it as the one you’d given him for his birthday, mostly as a joke. Something about the big, burly chief of police wearing a delicate robe made you giggle. Seeing him in it now though, you realize he can make anything look good. He has it tied at the waist but it’s still open in front, leaving most of his chest on display. You look down at the counter instead.

“I’m not the biggest fan of storms,” you admit, shifting your gaze to the curtain clad window in front of you. You can hear the wind howling behind the glass. “Bad things always seem to happen in storms.” His footsteps are heavy on the old floorboards of the cabin as he approaches you. You’re not one to show fear often. Too many people take it as a sign of weakness and it makes you feel too vulnerable. It’s different with Hopper though. He doesn’t belittle you or mock you. If anything, he makes you feel validated and safe. Sane even. After all you’ve been through, some of the things that make you jump are stupid to other people. Hopper at least relates. “Thanks again for letting me stay tonight,” you say, loosening up your shoulders and easing your grip on the counter edge.

After last year, you and Jim have been together a lot. He started frequenting the coffee shop you worked at and the checking up on you had morphed into conversation and friendship. Light flirting made its way in shortly after. You knew the town talked; the chief spending time with a woman 15 years younger than him? You both saw the side-eyed looks you got when you strolled down the street standing a bit too close, but neither of you mind. Going through everything you had, there was a bond between you, between everyone involved, that no one else would understand. What did Nancy call it? Shared trauma?

“How’s your hip been doing?” His voice is concerned, but firm, completing ignoring your unneeded thanks.

“Hip’s fine,” you assure him. “Scar’s a bitch though, which you would know if you ever came down to the pool with me.” You smile and give a playful, teasing tug on his robe. He chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Chief of police doesn’t lounge at the pool.” It’s the same line he’s given you since it was warm enough for the pool to open. At first, you’d tried to bribe him with the prospect of hot moms, but with a smile and an undertone you couldn’t quite place, he’d said he wasn’t interested in them. “How bad is it?”

You turn to face him and pull the bottom of your shirt up just slightly. You slip your thumb into the waistband of both your sleep pants he’d lent and your panties and tug them down over your right hip to show him the scar. The pants are baggy and they slide down a little more than what is probably appropriate, but you don’t particularly care.

He steps closer, his frame towering over you as his eyes dip down to the puffy scar. It’s nearly the length of your finger, slicing through the junction at your thigh and teasing up your waist, all just to the inside of your hip bone. It’s ugly and always angry looking, forever bumpy and red. You watch as his hand reaches out to you, fingers hovering in the air in front of you, hesitant.

“It’s okay,” you assure him softly, nearly a whisper. You lift your head to look at him, his gaze intent on your hip. His large fingers start to trace up and down over the length of the scar, barely touching you. “It doesn’t hurt.” He uses the pad of his fingers, feeling it more fully. It’s a foreign feeling having someone else touch your scar, but it’s not unwelcome. In fact, the warmth of his touch is making you want to lean into him.

“No pain?” His voice is quiet, but gruff, fingers still roaming back and forth.

“Not anymore.” You keep your eyes on him, watching the way his eyes barely shift away from the scar to where your pants had slouched down, showing him more of your skin than even your skimpiest swimsuit would have. “The scar itself is numb. Most likely will be for the rest of my life.” With a blink, his eyes are back to his fingers.

“So, you can’t feel this? Feel me?” You swear there’s something that sounds like disappointment in his voice. You have to stop yourself from reaching out to him, from touching his hand or his waist or his chest.

“I can feel you.” It sounds more breathless than you intended, more intimate somehow. He breathes deeply and you’re not sure if you leaned in or if he did, but he’s closer again. “The surface of the scar is numb, but you’re so big… Your fingers are so big,” you quickly correct yourself, but not before his lips twitch up in the smallest smirk at your words and a blush tints your cheeks. “They touch the edges and the skin around it.” He presses a little more firmly. “So yes, I can feel you.”

His hand shifts, thumb staying on the scar while the rest of his fingers slip along your hip until his palm is cradling you. Your breath hitches and when his thumb inches just past the scar, your body tingles. When his eyes meet yours, they aren’t filled with a hazy lust as you secretly hoped they would be. Instead, they’re soft and glazed with regret. Immediately, you shake your head and bring your hand up to press it against his cheek.

“No,” you tell him. “Don’t say it again.” He opens his mouth to say the words he’s been whispering to you for the past few months when it gets dark and quiet and raw feelings creep out. I’m sorry. He doesn’t say it this time, instead chooses to close his mouth and hold your hip a little tighter. “You saved my life. Walking away from a Demodog attack with a just a scar is not something to complain about.” He sighs and leans his face into your touch. You’d given the speech before and you had no doubt you’d do it again. “So, I won’t win sexiest woman in town or anything. Oh well,” you joke. It has the desired effect. He chuckles and straightens out a little, making you realize just how much he had been leaning down to you. Your hand slides away from his face and his slips away from your hip.

“I think you still have a damn good shot.” He runs his hand over his mouth and jaw with a chuckle and puts a little distance between the two of you. You look down to the floor to try to hide the blush and laugh with him. Both of you turn away so you can lean back on the counter.

“Want to try for sexiest man?” you joke back at him. He barks out a fuller laugh and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Nah. I’m not the type. No one wants a big, old guy like me.” He says it with a smile on his face which makes you shrug all too casually as you respond.

“I do.” Thunder rolls outside again as your breath stops and you feel like you could just fall through the floor. The air is suddenly very still and you can feel him looking at you as you try like hell not to look back.

“That so?” he drawls slowly. You can hear the smirk he’s wearing and you crunch your face as your brain fumbles for recovery.

“I just mean,” you start as you try not to fidget anymore than pinching the bridge of your nose. “I didn’t mean you. I’m just not into the young type.” That sounds better, right? His scoff implies he doesn’t agree.

“You realize guys your age are the young type, right?” Your brief glance at him reveals an amused scrunched up look on his face and a bounce in his shoulders. You shoot him a pointed stare and tilt your head just slightly.

“Clearly you haven’t seen the way those women gawk at newly graduated boys. I am not that young,” you tell him. “Even so, I’m just not into guys my age.” He raises his brow in question, waiting to hear you say it. “I like my men older.” His eyes dip down your body, coming back up with that darker look you had been wanting earlier.

“Is that right?” You caught the way his hands tightened underneath his crossed arms and you’re betting he’s wishing he had a cold beer to take a long drink from right about now. You don’t answer verbally, but bite down on your lower lip and nod slowly. “Got your eye on anyone?”

“I might.” It’s a safe answer you can shrug with, one you can brush off in the morning if, like so many others, this conversation doesn’t actually lead anywhere. “What about you?” You spin the attention to him before he can ask anything else. “Anyone catch your interest in town lately?” He drops both his arms and his head as another chuckle rolls out of him.

“Am I a complete creep if I’ve got a thing for a younger woman?” You find it hard to swallow.

“I suppose that depends on what kind of thing it is,” you answer, words suddenly breathless again. He doesn’t look up at you yet, hands toying with the tie around his robe.

“Depends on the day,” he says. “Sometimes I just want to see her, talk to her. I enjoy her company. Somedays I want to take her to a nice restaurant or out dancing or whatever the hell it is the young people do on dates now.” A soft smile comes to your lips as you imagine Jim Hopper dancing. “But then other days,” he finally lifts his head and turns his body to face you. “On the days where she’s being irritatingly stubborn or running her smartass mouth,” His voice dips down a bit lower as he steps closer to you. You look over your shoulder at him, head tilting back to watch his eyes train on your lips. His hand comes up and brushes a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Those are the days I just want to bend you over my desk.”

The air in your lungs dissipates. Your chest tightens and you feel like you can’t breathe, all while heat is flooding through your veins. You want to throw yourself at him. You’d imagined a confession so many times and you always threw yourself at him in your mind. Instead you’re frozen, unable to move or even look away from his teasing eyes.

“Me?” It comes out as an embarrassing squeak. He squints his eyes a little and feigns innocence.

“Did I say you?” There’s a moment of internal panic in which you frantically wonder if you misheard him. But then there’s a twinkle in his eye as he softly cradles the side of your neck. “I didn’t mean you. I just meant… ya know,” he mocks your earlier babbling with a teasing smile that eases your tension.

You start to laugh and give his chest a gentle, playful smack. He laughs with you and brings the hand on your neck down to rest on your shoulder. You turn on the balls of your feet to face him and lift onto your toes in half-assed attempt to even yourself with him.

“You shouldn’t tease a lady,” you tell him lowly.

“Is the implication here supposed to be that you’re a lady?” A roll of thunder punctuates his joke, startling you. Your back tenses and straightens as you press yourself into him, forehead leaning on his chest. “Hey, I got you.” His arm slides around your shoulders, the other snaking around your waist, holding you close.

There’s a comforting silence between you for a few moments as your heart rate comes back down. Hopper is patient, content to hold onto you until you’re ready. You can still hear the rain pounding down on the cabin and you take a deep, steady breath.

“I’m a lady,” you mumble, turning to press your cheek into his skin instead, afraid of brushing your lips against his bare chest when you speak.

“What was that?” he asks with a chuckle, looking down to you.

“I am a lady,” you say a little more firmly. “Unless you’re trying to lay claim to being the lady in this relationship?” You tilt your head back, looking up at his eyes and give a another little tug on the edge of his robe. “You do have some delicate features.” A smile breaks out onto his lips.

“There’s that smartass mouth I mentioned.” He shifts his weight as you shrug at him.

“Too bad we’re not anywhere near your desk.” You blush even as you say it, your boldness surprising you tonight. He hums lowly, a rumble you can feel through his chest and you watch his eyes darken through the dim light of the room.

“Maybe you’re the one who shouldn’t tease.” His hold on you loosens, as if he’s about to pull away and you feel it in your core; it’s now or never.

“I wasn’t teasing.”

He stops pulling away and there’s an actual surprise in his eyes at the way your tone of voice drops and the seriousness in it. He watches you carefully, weighing your words and your tone, trying to decide if you’re serious about what you were implying.

“Careful, babygirl.” His voice is gruff and deep as he shifts, both hands now gripping your hips with a new purpose. He’d only ever used that nickname on you once, but you know the bastard isn’t oblivious to the effect it has on you.

“I told you,” you breathe out, wrapping your fingers around both edges of his robe this time and lifting up as high as you can on your toes. “I like older men.” You feel a part of him twitch against the lowest part of your belly and you see his eyes darken as the smallest, dirty-tinted smirk reaches his lips.

“In that case…” He lifts you suddenly, palms smoothing down to cradle your ass and guide you up to his frame, your legs winding around his hips, pulling his robe further apart as your hands trace up to wrap around his neck. “Last chance,” he warns. If you wanted, he would put you back down and you’d laugh it off later. Or you could finally take the plunge that the look in his eyes is desperately asking you to take.

You give the slightest pull on him and his mouth meets yours in a sharp hiss of breath, his mustache and stubble scratching against your skin. Your stomach flips like you’ve just plummeted off a cliff and your skin heats at his touch, his fingers digging into the flesh of your rear as he holds you up.

You moan into his mouth when he turns on his heels, spinning to place you on the nearby counter. Lightning still flashes outside of your closed eyes, but it doesn’t bother you anymore. His hands roam up your sides all the way to your neck and face, roughly padded fingertips gentle on your skin. He slows the kiss, thumb stroking your jaw and making you whine when he pulls back just slightly.

“Been waiting a long time to do that,” he whispers gruffly, only a hair’s breadth away. You dig your heels into the backs of his thighs, trying to keep him close.

“What took you so long then?” You run one hand along the back of his neck, the other slowly teasing his robe further open, pushing it off one of his shoulders as the loose tie finally gives way and undoes itself.

“Wasn’t sure you were interested, sweetheart.” You have to chuckle. It’s not like you had been very subtle, or at least you thought you hadn’t. You lean forward and pull him into another heated kiss. Using your heels on his thighs, you scoot yourself to the edge of the countertop and grind your hips against his. The groan that slips out of him is filthy and delicious.

“Any doubts now?” you tease. He smirks as his hands dip down again, one coming to your thigh and one to the hem of your shirt.

“I’m clearly not good at taking hints, darling,” he whispers, taking his mouth from yours and leaning in to put his lips by your ear. “Think I’m gonna need to hear you tell me what you want.”

You groan his name, body practically melting underneath his touch and his husky voice. You snake your arms underneath his and reach up behind him to curl your fingers over the collar of his robe, tugging it down. He pulls his hands off of you just long enough to let it fall away.

“I want you,” you whisper back to him as his nose tickles your neck, a teasing touch that leaves you craving for more.

“A little vague there, baby.” His lips press a feather-light kiss to your neck.

“You’re such as ass,” you laugh lightly, grinding against him again and dragging your nails lightly down his back which causes his lips to press down a little harder, giving you some satisfaction. “Maybe you need to tell me what you want.” He chuckles darkly against your neck before bringing his lips back to his ear.

“I want to be buried so deep inside of you that the only thing you can say is my name.” You’d imagined that scenario before but hearing him saying it makes it so much more tangible. You’re left with an emptiness in you aching to be filled with him. You give a little tug on his hair to pull his face back so you can see him.

His lips are are red and puffy from your fevered kisses, mustache hairs just slightly astray. His cheeks are tinted in pink and his eyes are dark, hazy. You lick your lips before smirking back at him.

“Then what are you waiting for?” He smiles before scooping you up in his arms again, capturing your lips in an open-mouthed kiss, and carrying you off towards his bedroom.

[hearthandhomemagick]

Food For Thought - Steven Universe

Hello there, I would like to tell you my story and journey with the amazingly beautiful, and wonderfully written TV Show...

Steven Universe.

I started watching this show when it first came out in High School. I mean, I was so excited to watch it that I anticipated the very first episode and sat down with snacks to observe it’s premier. I had become immediately enthralled not only with the art style, but also with the genuine wholesomeness and elucidations of processing emotions and life experiences. I was astounded that a kids show could express to me how to manage my emotions as well as connect with my moral standings. It’s a show I recommended to everyone, but often didn’t talk about because of it being a kids show, and me being almost being grown. It was my secret love until someone else brought it up.

This show stuck with me through the years, and helped me through some of my hardest moments in life. 

I remember watching the episode, “Mindful Education” and melting into Garnet’s lesson of mindfulness and self-awareness. I had been going through a lot at the end of 2016, graduating and going through a rough election along with having to move states for college. My opinions were forming in the extreme area and I had a fire to protect my thoughts and opinions with no restrain or any form of control of my emotional reality. I was rambunctious as much as I was head-strong and, at times, hard-headed all together. 

When this episode aired, I didn’t know why I loved Garnet and Stevonnie’s song, “Here Comes a Thought.” But I did, and it still carries with me into my life today. 

I want to discuss a specific time, though, that this episode saved my sanity and opened my eyes to a concept I didn’t understand when I first watched it. I was on social media, and was defending my opinions against quite a few people by myself. Eventually, I was getting nasty comments from a bunch of millennials telling me, 

“You’re too fucking stupid to understand, maybe you should go back to school, child.”

“You’re so emotional, and your emotions don’t matter here. Imagine being this dumb.”

“Imagine being a dumb bitch like Carly and saying you wanted to cut your penis off to look like a woman.” *NOTE I am not transgender, there is nothing wrong with being transgender and her insinuating such did not bother me. Her rhetoric insinuating trans was wrong is what irked me, this bitch was transphobic and had issues that she needs to repair in her own time. She wrote an entire post based around this context on her personal page using my real name, and she didn’t even know who I was.*

and my personal favorite, “Here’s the suicide hotline, I know your generation is prone to killing themselves and are overly emotional.”

Now, there were over 50, under 100, messages going back and forth where these people were just bullying me and I refused to back down. I wound up in a panic attack in my bedroom, literally wanting to kill myself because they were bullying me. The hotline would have come in handy if it were the actual hotline. I ended up going to my dad and older sister (my older sisters friend was the main one I was arguing with and her posy showed up on my post), because no one on the post was on my side.

Both told me, “If you can’t handle the heat, stay out of the kitchen.” My sister told her friend to stop, and threatened the other girl for her nasty posts and comments. My dad tried to mediate on the post itself, but the people wouldn’t stop. I eventually had to take it down.

My family didn’t calm me down in this moment. Not even a little bit. It felt like a back-handed helping hand. Like they wanted to protect me, but also somewhat agreed with the people on the post.

The only thing that calmed my nerves in this moment, ultimately, was the song, “Here Comes a Thought.” 

I sat in my room, sobbing, hoping to myself that it would make sense as to why it was okay for these things to happen. The song soothed over my nerves, eventually releasing my muscles and giving me a sense ease. I was able to process and realized a few personal things as well. I didn’t realize it, but before long, I was meditating to the song on repeat. I kept telling myself, “I’m okay, this is a thought. A moment. I am not my thoughts. I am not this moment.”

This was simply one of the ways Steven Universe has helped me process and understand myself more. I bring this up because I came across and article today that disappointed me to the core.

The Steven Universe Fandom has toxic tendencies.

I was shook.

How could a child’s show be turned into something so negative? Something that was meant to promote self-awareness, self-love, acceptance of character, and understanding of others had been morphed into a gatekeepers safe haven.

Now I know this isn’t the majority, and before you get offended, hurt or start defending yourself, I want you to ask yourself if what you are defending is an action you would defend from anyone else. If it is, by all means defend your ground.

But the one concept that eludes me, and offers zero substance in terms of valid arguments, is that men can not watch this show. Let me explain why men NEED to watch this fucking show.

My boyfriend watched this entire show, episode for episode, and benefitted from it. This show offered him coping techniques, an understanding of why love should come before war, and mediating every situation so you see and understand every perspective. These are things children shows didn’t offer him growing up, he has often and openly verbalized his need for this show in his childhood because of certain traumas, and we often continue watching it even after seeing every single episode and movie.

This show was never meant for one or two groups of people, and if you feel that way then refer back to the writers themselves who were literally trying to teach the lesson in the show over and over again to NEVER EXCLUDE PEOPLE FROM YOUR GROUP. You exclude people, and you create a division, a war of sorts. You immediately have become the thing Steven Universe advocated against in the first place.

This also leads into the whole “art” situation in the fandom. 

This show is anti-bully. There are commercials for it and everything. It is expressed in multiple episodes why bullying is never a good thing in any situation. 

You simply cannot justify the hypocrisy in bullying someone out of self-expression that literally harms no one. You can’t justify it.

Think about it. You draw or sketch a piece of art that took you hours, or even a few minutes. It’s your favorite character, and maybe you yourself are going through some mental thoughts regarding your weight that lead you to draw the character thinner or bigger. Size shouldn’t matter in any capacity when relating a character to ones self. 

If you’re skinny, you’re beautiful. If you are thick or curvy, you are beautiful. If you are obese or overweight, you are beautiful. Weight doesn’t matter, but representation of body types in different characters does matter.

Imagine a child falls in love with a bigger character, but is experiencing body challenges where she is being picked on for being too thin or scrawny (it happens, I’ve seen it with my nieces). Who are you to say that making her favorite character look like her own body is wrong? Especially if art is a coping mechanism they use for mental health reasons.

Like Malachite, a fusion that was devastating and abusive in every way, you are taking the choice and voice of an entire being to make your actions and opinions “right” or “okay”.

There is so much more I could say on this show, and so much more I could say about the fandom. And I know it is not the majority of the fandom, but I did want to make everyone in the fandom aware that we are human.

None of us are stoic and balanced like Garnet, and even Garnet had problems in her relationship. None of us are strong and laid back like Amethyst, and even she had self-love issues. None of us are as analytical and organized as Pearl, and yet she had problems throughout the series. 

None of you are perfect, and to act as if you are is defeating the purpose of a show trying to teach you how to be responsible for yourself and your actions. I’m not perfect either, and preaching about a fandom I’m not a huge part of sounds counter-intuitive, I’m aware.

But my nieces want to watch this show. My nephew watches this show with me. My boyfriend’s niece is going to start watching the show. 

Please do not make a toxic environment for kids who need this show to grow up. Kids who experience trauma, and learn from this show deserve a safe space without people trying to justify bullying or force them to think that because they are a boy or girl, they can or can’t watch the show. Without people making people feel bad for being themselves.

Why don’t we create a new space? A space where everyone is accepted as they are, and negative behavior is addressed the same way the gems or Steven would address them. With education, perception awareness, and PATIENCE. 

I know some will say, “It’s not my job to raise your child.” and “It’s not my responsibility to make people aware of their tendencies.”

You’re right. It’s also not your responsibility to bully people into changing themselves to fit your dialogue. Simply put, you’re responsible for yourself alone. But you have no right to complain on someone's behavior, art or experiences if you are not willing to be patient with correcting said behavior in yourself first.  

Who knows, maybe I’m in the wrong here for not knowing the full story. All I’m saying is, if you see someone being a bully, being mean or even being a hypocrite, call them out in the sweetest way possible. Let them know we are facilitating a safe space for people who need a community rather than a closed off club.

Be the change you want to see in this world.

Learn, grow and prosper. 

I wish you all well and genuinely hope we can all expand our perspectives to fully understand each other in healthier and more communicative based ways. We deserve that sort of kindness from each other.