#i’m the one going to shows now and doing all of this but so much of it is for her

[imstillalexcomic]

Not really sure what to say for this one.  We all know what’s happening in America right now and it’s not even a “put your ear to the ground to hear what’s coming” type of situation, there have been executive orders that specifically target transgender people.

The writing isn’t on the wall, it’s on government documents.

The phone call described in this strip happened a few months ago, before I came out publicly.  As you can imagine, it only made me more fearful of coming out.  If this person who I love and trust so much that they were one of the first folks I came out to over five years ago didn’t understand why what’s happening is so terrifying, why this bigotry needs to be completely shut down immediately, how could the bigots themselves understand?

Part of my position was that there were television ads being run showing transgender folks as these disgusting people, something less than human that are deserving of ridicule and are a drain on the country’s resources and a danger to children.

According to them, my terror of seeing me be advertised as that way was just me being alarmist, that the people that I’m afraid of aren’t going to do anything and that there shouldn’t be any fear of danger.

We’re two weeks in, and already there’s legal action being taken to strip me and people like me of not just their rights, but their humanity.

It’s hard.  On one hand, I do understand their position that I should try to be a source of education, to try to bridge the gap to these people.  I agree not in the sense that it should be my responsibility, but in that it feels like the only practical thing I can do.

On the other hand, what can I possibly do in the face of so much hatred?

I have family members who’ve voted for this.  People who might say they have love in their hearts but voted to label certain people as sub-human. 

I don’t know how they can reconcile that.

I don’t know how I can reconcile with them.  I’m not just disappointed, I’m genuinely frightened.  I don’t want to sound like the world is crashing down around us, but in a way it really is.  Many of the folks who’ve voted this way don’t even realize what they were doing, the rest of them knew and didn’t care.

I don’t know which is worse.

[plainclothesdisaster]

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[kashverse]

nanami knew this day would come. it had started innocently—too innocently. babykuna, the tiny menace to society, had somehow developed an obsession with dinosaurs. it was all she talked about. all she drew. all she screamed at an ungodly volume.

"RAWWWWR! I’M GONNA EAT YOU, POOPYHEAD!"

and of course, because yuuji admired his little she-devil bestfriend far too much, he immediately jumped on the hype train like a devoted disciple. which brings us to now. yuuji, standing in the middle of the living room, clutching nanami’s hands, eyes wide with uncontainable excitement.

"papa. we need diwosaur suits."

"…what."

yuuji gasped. "suits. but not boring ones. fun ones. kom-fee ones. cozy-wosy ones." his chubby little hands balled into fists. “onesies.” nanami slowly exhaled, already regretting this conversation. "yuuji, why do we need dinosaur onesies?"

yuuji stared up at him like he had just said the dumbest thing in existence. "’cuz."

"because what?"

"’cuz they cool, papa." he stomped his little foot for emphasis. "and… and we need matching ones! group ones! like a famiwy pack!"

"yuuji, we are not a pokémon bundle."

"but papa, pwetty pleaseeeee." his tiny hands grabbed at nanami’s apron, shaking it with desperation. "we gotta! we gotta be diwosaurs in da wild! rawwr! rawwr!"

"yuuji, i am a grown man—"

"a fun grown man!"

"—who will not be parading around in public in a dinosaur onesie."

yuuji gasped so dramatically that he nearly choked. "papa." his voice trembled. “papa, do you not love me anymore?” nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. "yuuji, i bought you legos."

"yes, but dis is more."

you, watching from the kitchen with your coffee, tried very hard not to laugh. but yuuji had not forgotten about you. "mama!" he sprinted towards you, grabbing at your sleeve. “mama, you love diwosaurs, wight? wight??” you raised a brow. "do i?"

"yes." yuuji decided. "and we gotta be matching! papa is da big dino, you da mommy dino, and i am baby dino!" he beamed. "and den we can go outside and show da whole wide world our dino power!"

nanami, horrified, turned to you. “do not encourage this.” you hummed, sipping your coffee. "i dunno, honey. it does sound like family bonding."

yuuji gasps. "mama likes! it's two against one, papa!"

nanami closed his eyes. he was outnumbered. and so, three days later, nanami found himself standing in front of the mirror, staring at his own reflection.

in a green dinosaur onesie.

yuuji cheered, "LOOKIT, LOOKIT! PAPA, YOU DA BIG DINO!"

nanami dragged a tired hand down his face. he was a grown man. he paid taxes. he handled real estate investments. he had a retirement plan. 

and yet.

here he was, dressed like a discount godzilla, while his son gleefully jumped on the couch in his tiny orange dinosaur onesie. you, in your own (slightly more stylish) onesie, patted nanami’s arm. "you look good, babe."

he sighed deeply. "this is my life now."

and just when nanami thought it couldn’t get any worse—

"UNCLE KENNY, UNCLE KENNY!" babykuna burst into the apartment, skidding to a stop. she blinked up at him. then, with the smuggest little grin—

"you look so silly."

nanami closed his eyes. this was exactly why he should have never given in to capitalism.

[traveler-at-heart]

Sister, wife?

Summary: The team mistakes you for Natasha's sister when you first meet.

Request by @lynattyx

Loki again.

Thor seemed more annoyed than anyone else, but that was only logical. He had spent centuries putting up with his brother.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. Siblings can be a pain” Natasha tried to comfort him, while he looked ready to release a storm over Loki outsmarting him and escaping.

“Speaking from experience, Red?” Stark asked with a curious stare.

“Got a sister” Natasha shrugged her shoulders, looking out the window of the Quinjet as if she hadn’t said anything interesting.

“Really? What’s her name?” Steve said, intrigued.

“I won’t tell you, because if I say it three times you’ll summon her. That’s a reference from…”

“Yeah, I got it” Steve nodded. “I didn’t really like that Beetlejuice”

“That’s because you hate fun” Tony said, stepping forward. “Alright, we have a signal. Anyone up for a cigar? Loki’s close to Cuba”

—

“Lay low. That’s pretty much all you can do now” Maria said with a somber tone over the comms.

Loki had gone a little too far this time, almost getting half of Havana blown up.

Needless to say, the US wasn’t happy with the diplomatic mess the Avengers had created. Maybe that was Loki’s plan all along; make it impossible for them to go after him with the American government on their backs.

Well, he got what he wished for.

“I don’t suppose we can go to the Compound, then” Tony mumbled. “Barton, Red? Any ideas?”

“Coordinates are set. We’ll be there in a few hours. Try to get some sleep. All of you”

No one was in the mood to ask questions. If Natasha said it was a safe place, then they’d take her word for it and be done with the matter.

“You sure about this?” Clint said, looking at her from the copilot seat.

“Yeah. She’ll just give me a hard time for not telling her in advance. You know how she likes to have everything extra clean when there are guests”

“How did you manage to score such a gal?” he joked and Natasha glared at him.

“Hey, I’m a catch. My mac and cheese is delicious”

“Whatever you say, Tasha”

—

The Quinjet landed, and the only way you could tell was by the tree branches moving with a sudden gust of wind.

“Hey” Natasha said with a coy smile, going up the steps as the rest of the team got off the jet, looking around curiously.

“Welcome home” you pulled her into a hug. “Should have told me they were coming, and I could have cleaned up a bit”

“I missed you too” she joked against your ear, and as she was about to lean and kiss you, Tony interrupted the moment.

“Hey, Romanoff and Romanoff”

“You must be Tony. I’ve heard a lot about you”

“Have you? Because Natasha here didn’t tell us much about you”

“She was probably worried about you running your mouth” you joked, making him smirk.

“You have heard about me”

As Steve walked in, Natasha waited for Clint to show him something she wanted to fix in the garage.

The house was big and in the middle of a little wooded area.

“You’re gonna have to share rooms. And someone will sleep on the couch” you warned them.

“Not it” Tony said, as you pulled out a pillow and a blanket from the closet.

“I’ll take the couch” Steve offered, which of course he did. “Thank you…”

“Y/N” you nodded, waiting for Tony to follow you.

“Barton? Thor?” he looked around.

“Oh, Clint’s probably scolding Natasha because she didn’t fix the ceiling like he told her to” you laughed. “Thor flew away like thirty seconds after landing. And burned part of my lawn in the process”

“So sorry about that. It’s quite the thing to hang out with these brutes. So, uh, what do you do?”

“I’m a Psychiatrist” you answered, opening the door to the guest room.

“Get to see Natasha a lot?”

“Not as much as I’d like”

“Come by the Compound anytime you like. I’ll send you a pass or shall I just say your name three times?”

“What?” you tilted your head in confusion.

“Nothing. Thanks for letting us crash” he rubbed his neck.

“Sure. Get some rest”

You ran into Clint as he went upstairs, knowing his way around the house.

“She’s outside”

“Is she… is she ok?” you said, sighing. It was one thing to see it in the news, and another one to know she was out there risking her life against literal Gods and aliens.

“Just tired” he assured you. “Seeing you will help. Have a good night”

“You too. Sorry to say you’re sharing a room with Tony”

“Ah, jeez” he groaned, making you laugh.

Steve was lying in the couch, restless. He waved at you shyly as you walked out, knowing Natasha was waiting in the porch.

Honestly? They were a nice bunch.

“Hey” you said, stepping out.

“Hi, detka”

“You ok?” you said, leaning your chin against her shoulder, with your arms around her waist.

“Just tired”

“Funny, that’s exactly what Clint said”

Natasha chuckled at that, squeezing your hands.

“He knows me”

“I know you better”

“Do you, now?” she turned around, quirking up an eyebrow and smiling at you. “So, what do you think I want right now?”

“Cuddles with your wife and then tomorrow morning I think you’ll be in the mood for blueberry pancakes and hot cocoa”

“Damn, you do know me well” she laughed, kissing your temple. “Come on, let’s go to bed”

—

You were up next morning, and unsurprisingly, Steve had already been out and running a good ten miles.

“The rest?” he said after greeting you.

“Clint got up early to fix what Natasha broke trying to fix the other thing that broke, God bless his soul. Tony’s asleep and so is Nat”

“Really? Even Romanoff? She’s up at break of dawn”

“Nah, not when she’s home. Now clean yourself up, breakfast is almost done”

“Yes, Ma’am”

Natasha was the first one down, as your room had a private bathroom. By the sounds from upstairs, you suspected the boys were arguing over who go to use the other restroom first.

“Hear that sound? Children. Ready for all that?” Natasha said.

“Yeah, but ours will be cute. And we’ll make Clint build another bathroom” you said, getting a pancake out of the pan.

“You’re so smart, that’s why I love you”

“Only that?” you said, laughing as you felt her hands go around your waist.

“Among other things”

You turned around to protest, but her lips stopped you from saying anything.

“I did miss this” she said, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. You moaned against her mouth, forgetting there were more people in the house until you heard Tony slam the door to the bathroom. Natasha went to get some coffee, and you wished she’d kept kissing you.

But the teasing would be endless if they caught you in the middle of it.

“Bathroom's all yours, Cap! Morning, Romanoffs”

“Morning, Tony” you said. “Help yourself to some pancakes and coffee”

“Delicious, thank you”

Steve came down a few minutes later, at the same time Clint walked in, announcing that he had fixed the thing.

“You’re a hero” you said, grateful. “Don’t worry, darling, you’ll get it right next time” you added as Natasha pouted.

“Mean”

“It comes with the territory, doesn’t it?” Tony said. “Including all the hair pulling and slapping and fighting for bras”

“Ah, what?” you said, confused.

“Hey, don’t speak to my wife that way, asshole” Natasha slapped the back of his head, making him choke on his coffee.

“Did you just say wife?” he turned to look between the two of you.

“Yes, Y/N is my wife. Who did you think she was?”

“The maid?” you joked.

“The sister!” Tony looked at Steve for backup.

“Well, to be fair… yeah”

“My sister’s name is Yelena” Natasha said, massaging her temples. “Y/N and I have been married for almost two years now. And I didn’t want you to know because you’ll be insufferable about it”

“Babe, they’ve been good so far” you chuckled, squeezing her hand.

“We can behave, honey boo” Tony said.

“Ok, yeah. I get it now” you rolled your eyes.

“Either way, you’re coming to our party” Tony said, poruing himself more coffee.

“When is it?”

“Whenever we get our hands on that Asgardian bastard”

“Language” you said at the same time as Steve.

“This is gonna be fun” Tony laughed, looking at you over his cup of coffee. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Romanoff”

[y3sterdaysproblem]

the catalyst - c.s.

this takes place prior to the two final screenshots in part ten

cw: (almost) cheating, suggestive implications, chris being an asshole

wc: 4k

part of the fwb!chris series

no doubt about it, you had to be drunk if you were going to this party.

normally you would pull up to parties with chris, have him pick you up or at least meet you there and wait outside until you showed up so you could walk in together, but now with him talking to this new girl (lia, you found out), you had to show up by yourself. it wasn’t a problem, you were pretty independent in your every day life, but something about showing up to a party by yourself felt embarrassing when it’s been so long since you’ve had to. despite your feelings, you didn’t want to appear too affected by chris’s new situation he had going on, so you were still going to go, just after pregaming a little harder than usual.

on the ride over there, you almost found yourself wanting to ask the driver to turn around and go back home, not wanting to stumble into somebody’s house an hour after everyone had already shown up and draw attention to yourself and your obvious loneliness. you talked yourself out of it, though, continuing on the short drive until you had pulled up to the typical hang out spot, thanking your driver and getting out.

the door was unlocked as usual, and you pushed it open and went inside as quietly as you could, doing your best to walk past people you didn’t really know to make your way to the kitchen to grab another drink. you were barely two seconds into pouring a mixer into a plastic cup when you feel somebody step up next to you, and you don’t have to tear your gaze away from what you’re doing to know who it is.

“when did you get here?” he questions, standing so close to you your arms are brushing together. you don’t answer him until your drink is made, bringing it up to your lips to take a sip. once it’s swallowed, you turn your body to face him, eyes landing on his that are already watching you. “a few minutes ago,” you answer. “why, were you waiting for me?”

chris rolls his eyes and reaches forward to grab your cup from your hand, bringing it up to his own lips for a taste. he hands it back to you, grimacing at the sweet flavor. “god, you make the worst drinks,” he scoffs. “and no, I wasn’t waiting for you, was just surprised that you came so late, that’s all.” you take the cup back and let your fingers brush over his at the transfer, body already thrumming from how close you were, the feeling of pure want intensified by the alcohol already in your system.

your eyes hide nothing, giving away just how badly you wanted chris in the moment. you thought you’d be able to keep it under control, but with him standing so close and looking so good, the scent of his cologne wafting through your nostrils and infiltrating your senses. maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to drink so much before coming. “chris,” you say in a soft tone, one that always makes him melt, but tonight he just shakes his head at you and reaches up to place both hands on either one of your shoulders. “not tonight. please behave yourself tonight. I have lia here and I really don’t want to mess this up. I promise i’ll make it up to you,” he begs, and he really sounds like he means it.

you always hated not getting what you wanted.

“but, chris,” you pout, dropping your head down a bit to give your eyes a wider appearance, bringing your hand up to rest on his chest. you’re about to speak again when he grabs your hand and pulls it away from him, pushing it back towards you. “i’m serious,” he says lowly. “not tonight.”

you groan and narrow your eyes at chris frustratedly, annoyed at his determination. “fine,” you agree. you take your hand that he pushed away from you and reach between your bodies, cupping chris’s dick through the black jeans he wore, keeping your eyes lock on his. “just know i’ll be thinking about you all night and wishing you would have your way with me.”

chris sucked in a sharp breath at your touch, knowing he should pull away but not having the willpower to. one of his hands leans against the counter for support, the other itching to grab you and pull you closer. you can feel him twitching under your hand, a hint of an erection forming as you groped him. he was about to give into your touch, about to pull you somewhere more private, but an unfamiliar voice pulled you both from the moment. your pulled your hand away from him and tucked it into the back pocket of your jeans that hugged your ass perfectly, other hand bringing your cup up to your lips.

“here you are!” a girl’s voice calls from the doorway of the kitchen, stepping up to chris’s side with a wide grin on her face, oblivious to the tension in the room. chris slings an arm around her waist loosely, now refusing to make eye contact with you, afraid this girl would see right through him if he looked at you. “here I am,” he says with a forced smile, turning his head to face her. she turns and looks up at him, naive adoration painted on her features. “is this the friend you were telling me about?”

he told her about me? you think to yourself, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. “yeah,” chris says, clearing his throat as he turned back to look at you. “this is lia, the girl i’ve been seeing,” he introduces awkwardly and you tilt your head at her, smiling sweetly. “lia,” you hum, nodding your head. her hand comes out to greet you and all you can do is stare down at it, judging the way her acrylics were grown out and an ugly color. “i’m gonna go find your brother,” you tell chris, looking back up at him with a smirk, sending him a knowing wink before turning on your heel and heading towards the living room, hearing chris apologizing for your attitude quietly.

you did exactly as you promised, finding matt sitting on the floor with his back leaned up against the front of a couch and his legs crossed in front of him, laughing at something a friend had said. “hi, matt,” you greet sweetly, sitting directly next to him. his attention is grabbed by you immediately, lifting his arm to drape it around your shoulder as he smiled over at you. “hi, pretty girl,” he replied.

you made conversation with him for a few minutes before chris and lia came into the room, him looking uncomfortable and her looking happy as ever. she couldn’t even pick up on his emotions yet and he was so willing to drop everything for her. how could he be so infatuated with a girl that was so fucking dumb she couldn’t tell when she broke up a moment filled with sexual tension?

there isn’t much time to dwell on her lack of social awareness before somebody grabs your attention again, sitting across from you and matt. “okay, are we playing truth or dare or spin the bottle?” he asks drunkenly. chris audibly groans, lowering himself to the floor in a makeshift circle, lia sitting so close she should’ve just sat on top of him. “can we not do some childish shit, please?” he asks, tone laced with annoyance.

“what, scared you’re gonna have to kiss somebody, chris?” matt teases from next to you and you’re unable to contain the small giggle that leaves your lips. “or are you scared i’m gonna kiss your girl?”

matt’s arm squeezes around you when he says this and it takes you a moment to realize he’s not talking about the girl tucked into chris’s side, but rather about you. “i’m not scared of shit, asshole, I just don’t think we should be playing some fucking little kid games.” chris shoots back with a dramatic eye roll. “it’ll be fun!” lia says enthusiastically, wrapping both hands around chris’s bicep and shaking him lightly. he looks over at her and sends a tight lipped smile her way, his hand gently rubbing over her arm. “alright, whatever,” he concedes.

that’s how you all ended up playing truth or dare, spinning a bottle to decide who goes first. after a few rounds of stupid dares and pussy cop outs with people choosing truth, it’s matt’s turn to ask somebody a question. his attention turns to you, and a lazy smirk finds its way onto his lips. “truth or dare,” he asks you quietly and you can’t help but feel nervous at his tone. “dare,” you say instantly.

matt shifts a bit next to you before looking around the room, eyes landing on his brother for a moment before flitting back to you. “I dare you to make out with me for at least a minute,” he says after a few moments of thought. you’re a bit shocked at this, but quickly snap out of it and swing your leg over his lap, sitting atop his thighs happily. matt’s grinning up at you like a sick freak and you feel clued in on his intentions with the way he stares at you, so to bounce off of his energy, you turn your head to chris who’s staring at the two of you with dark, intense eyes, clearly not a fan of what was going on. “hey, chris?” you ask sweetly, tilting your head a bit. “can you start a timer, please?”

chris narrows his eyes at you, not liking the game you decided to play with him. he already wasn’t a big fan of your relationship with matt, but having to sit here and witness it himself was another level of fucked up. after he doesn’t answer, refusing to take his eyes off of you, the stupid, clueless girl next to him whips out her phone. “i’ll do it!” she says with a smile, holding up the timer. you roll your eyes and turn back to face matt, resting your forearms on his shoulders. “she’s so fucking stupid,” you whisper so only he can hear and he laughs at your comment before reaching up to rest his hand on the back of your head, pulling you down to meet his lips.

you’re instantly melting into the kiss, lips slotting together effortlessly, the taste of alcohol and juice on both of your tongues mingling. matt’s touch was so much gentler than chris’s, the way his hands slid up under your shirt to hold onto your waist and the way he took his time kissing you instead of rushing through it. between the way he felt holding you against him and the liquor running through your veins, you felt yourself getting carried away in the kiss, hips subtly grinding down on him as your hands found themselves in his hair, holding him close to you as you made out.

“minute’s up,” chris informs you both, but matt’s hands move down from your waist to your ass, fingers digging into the denim covering your skin, willing you even closer. “hello?” chris says again, louder this time, infuriated at the way you both seemed to get more into it. it’s not fully surprising when chris’s hand lands on your shoulder and roughly pulls you away from matt, almost ripping you off his lap. “enough,” he snaps, hand instinctively moving towards your jaw to turn your head to face him. your eyebrows immediately furrow together at his rough touch, hand pulling away from matt to shove into chris’s chest roughly. “back the fuck up, chris.”

he surprisingly listens, not wanting to cause an unnecessary scene in front of everybody, including lia, sitting back in his original position next to her. she seems slightly unnerved at his reaction, waiting a few moments before she places her hand back on his arm. “are you okay?” lia questions in her soft voice and chris doesn’t even glance her way, eyes locked on you as you climb off of matt’s lap and settle next to him again. “he’s fine, he’s just a little possessive,” matt snarks, his arm coming back around your shoulder. “a little?” you scoff, eyes trailing over chris’s tense frame. “hey, matt, when do you think we should tell chris that I lied about hooking up with you to make him jealous?”

you wish you had a camera to record the way chris’s expression dropped, the way his jaw visibly tensed from his teeth clenching together, the way his chest expanded from the breath he pulled in. “what does she mean?” lia questions from next to chris, turning her body towards him. “nothing,” he immediately answers. “it’s my turn!” you say enthusiastically, clapping your hands together and letting them fall in your lap. “lia, truth or dare?” you ask her, sending a smile her way. she’s shifting uncomfortably at your words, turning her attention to you apprehensively. “um…” her eyes flit to chris’s face for a moment, but they look back at you when she realizes he’s still staring at you. “dare,” she finally answers, sitting up straighter. you can tell that she only picks dare to impress chris, but he’s focused on anything but her right now.

you hum and tap your index finger on your chin a few times as you think of what to say. “I dare you… to go through chris’s phone!” is what you land on, and chris immediately moves to stand up, brushing lia off of his arm. “can I talk to you?” he directs towards you, not waiting for an answer before he grabs you by your arm and lifts you off the ground, dragging you towards a bedroom down the hall. “you’re hurting me,” you tell him bluntly, trying to pull away, but he just tightens his fingers around you as he shoves you into a room and slams the door shut behind you.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he sneers, finally releasing you. you huff and try to fix your clothes, glaring at the fuming man in front of you. “what are you talking about?” you ask him, raising your eyebrows at him. “i’m not doing this little back and forth. stop fucking with her. I mean it, dude, i’m not playing. don’t drag her into your mean girl bullshit. she’s too nice for you and your bitchy behavior.”

you scoff at his words, unable to believe he’s trying to defend this girl from you. “she’s fine,” you drawl, waving a hand at him dismissively. “god, chris, you’re so hot when you’re mad.” you take a small step closer to him, trying to close the distance between you two. “don’t,” he says sternly, bringing his hands up to stop you. you take another step closer, bringing your hands up to rest on his outstretched arms, dragging them up until they were placed on his shoulders. “don’t what?” you ask him, peering up at him through your lash extensions, eyes boring into him shamelessly. “don’t be slutty right now, i’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

you laugh and step even further until your chests are pressed together, bringing your arms up to wrap around him. you rested your chin on his sternum and gazed up at him, smiling at the way he stared across the room behind you, refusing to look down at you in fear of giving in. despite his unwillingness to look at you, his arms come up and wrap around your shoulders, a loud sigh escaping his nostrils. “look at me,” you say softly, squeezing your arms around him gently. you can feel his heart pounding from where you rested against him and you knew it was only a matter of time before he gave in.

when chris finally looked down and met your eyes, you felt the energy in the room shift. his expression softened as he inspected your face and the way that you looked back at him, like you were patiently waiting for him to crack and give you attention. “you’re incredibly rude,” is the first thing he says after locking eyes with you and you can’t help but grin at his statement. “you like how rude I am,” you retort.

chris rolls his eyes and looks past you for a moment before refocusing his gaze on you. “I tolerate how rude you are to me, not to girls I like. it’s not cute, it’s just pissing me off.” his tone is quiet, but you can tell he’s serious with the way he speaks. “i’m sorry,” you say honestly, pouring your bottom lip out subtly. “can I kiss it better?” he laughs at this and tightens his arms around your shoulders, shaking his head. “no, i’m not rewarding your awful behavior. go kiss matt about it,” he tells you, then pauses. “were you serious about what you said? that you lied about sleeping with him?”

you suck in a sharp breath at his words, feeling cornered despite you admitting exactly that only a few minutes prior. “I do think he’s hot,” you start. “but that was the first time we’ve ever kissed. he thinks you’re kind of an asshole when it comes to women so he wanted to see how mad you could get if we both made you believe we were fucking.”

chris purses his lips and nods, almost like he’s impressed by your scheme. “too bad you’re not important enough to make me jealous,” he teases and it makes you crack a smile. “sure, that’s why you ripped me off of him like that.”

“I was just playing by the rules,” chris defends, refusing to be pegged as the jealous type. “can you please just stop being weird and rude? i’m not asking for a lot.” you sigh and press your forehead into his chest for a couple of beats before looking back up at him, nodding your head. “yeah, alright,” you concede. “if you kiss me all nasty right now.”

“oh my god,” chris groans, but he couldn’t fight the closeness between you two any longer, bringing his hand up to the back of your head and leaning down to press his lips against yours roughly, both of your eyes fluttering shut as you made contact. your hands around him gripped at the back of his shirt to hold him closer as his tongue slipped into your mouth, a soft whine slipping out of your nose. the kiss only lasted maybe thirty seconds before he pulled away and stared down at you, soaking in your wide eyes and needy pout. “enough. let’s go.”

you nod and let go of him, but not before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on the skin of his neck, pulling away to smile up at him. “i’m right behind you,” you tell him and he steps away from you, not so subtly waistbanding his dick before opening the bedroom door and stepping out, making his way back into the living room.

you both take your respective places back next to lia and matt, looking as inconspicuous as you could after a slightly heated make-out that left you both craving more. matt sent you a knowing smirk, pulling you back into his side once you settled back down, and lia just smiled at chris, completely missing the way he used the collar of his shirt to wipe off his lips from where your lip gloss was smeared along them.

what she didn’t miss, noticing it only seconds later, was the tinged lip print pressed perfectly against his neck, right above his collarbone where you could reach. she stared at it for what seemed like forever, and your heart dropped when you saw what she saw. “fuck,” you breathe out, catching matt’s attention. he’s not even able to question you when he sees lia scooting away from chris, a hurt expression painted on her face.

“what is that?” she asks, voice strained as it comes out. chris is clueless, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “what is what?” he asks her, annoyance lacing his tone. lia only reaches up and touches his neck, dragging her finger through the sticky gloss on his skin before holding it up for him to see. you can tell he feels the same stomach-sinking dread when he notices what he’s being shown, mouth opening to speak, then closing again when he can’t think of a way to defend himself.

you’re scooting away from matt nervously, feeling like you were about to throw up, not because you were worried about this girl’s feelings, but because you were terrified of chris’s reaction. he practically begged you to behave, and you fucked up with a stupid fucking kiss. “oh my god,” you choke out, standing up from the floor. chris’s attention is drawn to you at your movement, pushing himself off the floor as well. “you are so fucking stupid,” he spits, pointing a finger at you accusingly. “I ask you to back the fuck off for one night! you can never fucking listen!”

you flinch at his words, taking a few steps back until you slam into the wall behind you, eyes welling with tears as he nears closer. “it was an accident,” you mumble, using the back of your hand to wipe the remaining lip gloss off of your lips haphazardly, even though it didn’t matter anymore. “you are such a fucking whore. always have to ruin everything, don’t you?” he’s in your face now, glaring down at you with an expression you’ve never seen before. “you kissed me, too, this isn’t my fault!” you yell back, voice pinched as you start to get worked up, heart pounding in your chest. “you don’t get to blame all your fuck ups on me!”

“chris,” matt warns from behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder cautiously, which chris instantly brushes off, eyes locked on you. “i’m sorry that nobody wants you, i’m sorry nobody wants to deal with how fucking exhausting you are, but that doesn’t mean you can go around and fuck with me and my life.” chris doesn’t even bat an eye at the tear that slips down your cheek or the way your lip wobbles, only rolling his eyes before turning around and walking back towards lia, helping her up off the floor.

you can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you watch him leave, unable to hear matt as he speaks to you, only focusing on chris as he guides his girlfriend-not-girlfriend out of the house, presumably to explain and try to put back the pieces of what little relationship they had. the second he’s out of your line of sight, you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, turning to look at matt. “can you take me home?” you ask him, and he instantly nods, guiding you towards the door.

the ride home is silent, and you feel like you’re on autopilot when you walk into your apartment and kick off your shoes, only letting yourself process what had happened when you were wrapped up in your blankets twenty minutes later. you tried calling chris, and all of your calls were instantly sent to voicemail.

that’s when you texted him, feeling a new sense of rage at his accusations through the messages he sent, deciding that this wasn’t all your fault and you weren’t the only bad guy here. chris made his bed, too, and you would make sure he suffered as he laid in it.

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @rafesapprentice @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbratt333 @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga @pip4444chris @chriss-slut @yourebeautifulqueen @watercolorskyy @courta13 @craftycrafter26 @meg4-matt44 @colorthecosmos444

[therayofsonshine]

was in a&e, so no better time to do this than now! (edit: missed the entirety of this as i was logged out. FUCK. so… um here is day 17 to 24. the very late version.)

day 17: my camera roll in my dr is.. honestly a vibe. but i have the weirdest shit going on over there. it’s tame to begin with: photos of england n my family. n then it just goes to shit: pics of our empty house with boxes everywhere and carnage from moving in and getting accustomed to a new environment. and tbh i can’t be arsed to delete anything 😭 so i’ve just left it and pray i can find the photos i need in time.

i wish i had a way to organise all of my camera roll into eras of my life and categories regarding photos. but.. that’s definitely something to add to my script.

day 18: i’ve scripted in a spontaneous drinking night for the reality show. i’m somewhat subscribed to the whole “drunk words are sober thoughts” thing so it would be really interesting to see what people think of certain topics/people on the show after a few games haha. this hasn’t happened yet but i’m really looking forward to how that one pans out!

day 19: i have a few hobbies in my dr! some are a work in progress whilst others i am confident + comfortable getting on with. they include and are not limited to: thrifting (my original occupation in this dr was a fashion student, but i changed my mind as it just happens randomly and i fear i would lose all love for it if forced to create), music (ironic as my boyfriend is literally an idol), crochet/knitting, and drawing.

i enjoy making things and making myself and others feel good whilst doing them. i have knitted my family/friends quite a lot of clothing (i am LITERALLY keeping the bills paid and lights on and providing clothes on the back’s of my family like damn!). if i’m not working i’m doing one of these things. n enjoying every bit of it.

day 20: i’ve recently discovered - in fact - my main love language is NOT words of affirmation (tho it is still one of them), but quality time (which actually makes more sense to me). so any date that revolves around me spending time with another person is quite literally the most romantic thing ever. FUCK romance!!!!!

for example, recently in my CR two of my friends watched the entirety of the hobbit trilogy with me in one sitting, into the early hours of the morning. and i am STILL telling people about it because it meant the world to me. those films are long too! so! yea, something like that.

day 21: WORKING. i work too much in my cr n now i have to do it in my dr as well????? damn it’s almost like i signed up for this! but i guess that’s one of the downsides of having a family business: i actually have to help out and do the work. yikes. no i’m kidding (kinda), but working in a café is not for the weak.

also, not really a downside - as again, signed up for it - but watching people want and like yunho before i go out with him. (context: this is a dating reality show dr, so people are going to fancy him alongside me. but can i blame them?). it doesn’t make me uncomfortable or awkward tbh, just a little like… oh! oh 😔.. oh 😏😏😏. you get me.

day 22: i scripted i can cook. (….yea.) i just cannot. i can make beans on toast but that’s as chef-like i get in the kitchen, unfortunately. and obviously having to work in a baking environment + serving customers food that may potentially poison them if it doesn’t agree with them, i need to know how to cook.

that’s as good as it gets i’m afraid!

day 23: MY FAMILY ARE SUCH LOSERS LMFAO. we do those matching pyjamas on Christmas Eve. we also make gingerbread houses! which is very fun!!!!

day 24: the vibes of this dr!!! it’s technically a dr for me to be on a reality dating show so a lot of it revolves around being in love (am not complaining yo…)

day 25 (FINALLY): i spend xmas with my family. my family always book the week off and we close the café for christmas because let’s be frank who tf is coming into our shop on christmas day????? nobody yo. we’re not even in korea anyways so the shop just sits dead - and collects dust - during that time of the month. it’s a fun game to place bets on the state of the building after we return - tho we do try to leave it spotless when we leave.

xmas is always chaotic with my family it’s so funny. someone always ends up drunk and singing - eventually roping the rest of the family into it (or most LMFAO).

𝟐𝟓 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒. ❆ ⋆⁺₊❅ .

a series of questions for the days leading up to christmas for shifters!! Some of these questions are Christmas specific and others aren’t, feel free to answer what you want and how you want, ex. moodboards, short answers, longs answers. And if you’d like, you can reblog so it reaches more shifters. Merry Christmas and Happy Shifting :) post tags are #shiftmas #shiftmas2024 tagged: @arishifter

⌗ 𝟏. christmas caroling ; What are a few songs that remind you of your dr? Why?

⌗ 𝟐. gingerbread houses ; What does your house look like in your dr? Who do you live with? What is your favorite aspect of your house?

⌗ 𝟑. eggnog ; What is some drama going on in your dr?

⌗ 𝟒. sledding ; What does a hang out with you friend group look like? Where do you go? Who is your friend group?

⌗ 𝟓. snowman ; What is your OOTD? (outfit of the day)

⌗ 𝟔. stockings ; What is your family like? What are your relationships with different members? Any extended family? Who is visiting for Christmas?

⌗ 𝟕. candy canes ; What gives you dr euphoria? (like gender euphoria but for your dr…)

⌗ 𝟖. mistletoe ; Who is your s/o? What is your dynamic and how do you spend time together? Are you two doing something special for the holiday?

⌗ 𝟗. snowflakes ; What are some headcannons you have about people in your dr?

⌗ 𝟏𝟎. icicles ; What is your occupation in your dr? Your coworkers? (Or if student, your classmates?) What is your favorite and least favorite aspect of your occupation?

⌗ 𝟏𝟏. tree skirt ; How did you find out about shifting? What was your first dr and what is your main dr now?

⌗ 𝟏𝟐. ornaments ; What are some objects you have in your dr that you don’t in your cr? Why do you have them in your dr?

⌗ 𝟏𝟑. sleigh bells ; Are there any priveleges you have in your dr that you don’t in your cr? What are they?

⌗ 𝟏𝟒. cookie cutters ; What are some smells that remind you of your dr? Why?

⌗ 𝟏𝟓. elf on the shelf ; who is your main wingman/women/person? What is your dynamic? What do you guys do when you hang out?

⌗ 𝟏𝟔. wrapping paper ; What is your favorite way to script? Why is it your favorite way?

⌗ 𝟏𝟕. gift tags ; What is your camera roll like in your dr? (photos or just describe it)

⌗ 𝟏𝟖. snowballs ; What is a silly scenario you are looking forward to in your dr?

⌗ 𝟏𝟗. mittens ; What are your hobbies in your dr? How do you usually spend your down time?

⌗ 𝟐𝟎. ice skates ; What is your ideal date in your dr? (friends or s/o)

⌗ 𝟐𝟏. coal ; What is something unpleasant you have/have to experience in your dr? Why are you not looking forward to it?

⌗ 𝟐𝟐. tinsel ; What is something fun or random you have scripted? (ex. Thundersnow is more common, you have a ring that allows you to read minds, you have good luck with thrifting, you’re good at gambling.)

⌗ 𝟐𝟑. fir tree ; What are some traditions you have in your dr but not your cr? Why?

⌗ 𝟐𝟒. hot cocoa ; put together a moodboard of your dr or you in your dr

⌗ 𝟐𝟓. christmas ; How are you spending your christmas? Who with? What might be some gifts you are giving and to who?

divider credits.

[oceantornadoo]

ch9 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: kidnapping. yeah...

masterlist | next

You feel like a teenager again.

Your first date is full of nerves and hormones, shy eye contact in the warm light of the candlelight dinner. That is, the candlelight dinner John organized in the back of a London bookstore you’d never explored, shut down early for the public so you could have a private dinner date. He takes you on a shopping spree after, setting you loose on the quiet store with no restrictions on time or money. You pick a few books to be sent back to your library in the country (what an extraordinary thought to have!), and a few for home. Home. Over the past weeks, almost two months, you now think of John’s home as yours. His bed as yours, his life entwined with yours.

“I would say you’re spoiling me too much, but honestly, you owe me.” You mention as John shadows your book search, his body heat searing into yours. He laughs, waves of sounds settling into your skin. “Glad y’r stayin’ true t’ y’r beliefs, sweetheart.” You nudge him with your hip and he takes advantage of your proximity, pulling you closer into the cage of his body. You grab the book you were perusing and tug it to your chest on instinct. “Hey! I said nothing sexual.” John nuzzles your neck, hands wrapping around your waist to rub at the pudge of your stomach. “‘S not sexual, jus’ comfort.” You melt like chocolate, conforming to the contours of his body.

“Tell me ya hate me.”

He whispers into the space between your ear and shoulder. You shudder at his words, pushing back into him to get closer. “I’m not answering that.” It’s the best you can give him without showing your cards. He hums in approval, sending a shock of electricity to your core. “Guess I’ll hav’ t’ take ya out again.” You turn in his arms, the book between you like a shield. “Someone’s presumptuous. Don’t you know it’s bad luck to plan a second date during the first?” He shrugs, the grays in his beard glinting in the lamplight. “Y’r a sure thing, sweetheart.” You gasp in faux-outrage, hitting him square in the chest with the book you’re holding. He barely moves, not having the decency to look hurt. If anything, he stalks closer with eyes like a tiger, a look at you like you’re prey. “Do tha’ again.”

That night, his words echo in your head. A little flower of insecurity grows in a hidden crevice of your heart. “Y’r a sure thing, sweetheart.” The memory of his smile, joking and lighthearted in the moment, warps into a smirk in your mind. In the bed you’re lying in, you inch away from John’s sleeping body as it replays over and over. Would all of this be happening if you weren’t married? How much of his hunger for you is fed by the fact that you’re the closest option? That you’re easy, letting him get you off within a few weeks of knowing each other. Sleep only comes hours later, when you’ve wrought your brain of all its thinking power. 

John wakes you with sweet words and intimate cuddles, holding you against him as he tells you about all the places he wants to take you. Your earlier doubts, screaming and rioting, fade away into a whisper, letting his words wash over you. You forget about it.

Mostly.

-

Your own bookstore is getting along well. You’ve hired another assistant, a man named Arthur who was a referral of Phil’s. The extra help goes a long way, as he’s experienced enough to install the cafe you wanted in the front. In the next month, you order inventory and thrift furniture. You venture out to cafes to inquire about catering and post job listings for a cafe worker and bookseller. 

On the weeknights you go on dates, John insists on picking you up from the store. It’s only one or two nights a week, where he’s free enough to do a late dinner or a drive around town. John shows London to you in bits and pieces, shyly peeling back the film of mystery that covers the town. You go to hole-in-the-walls, cuisines ranging from Jamaican to Indian to traditional British fare. The owners always seem to know him, giving him the best seats of the house and refusing to take his card. You’re starting to understand how much of an influence he holds, how the caring husband behind closed doors is also the feared mafia boss outside of them. It’s like you’re learning him anew, sharing childhood memories and terrible twenties stories every date. It’s a fantasy of what life would’ve been like if you’d met him naturally.

Speaking of his frightfulness, he’s not friendly with either of your assistants, but after a stern talking to, he becomes begrudgingly polite. He speaks in monosyllables and grunts, only offering you a full English conversation. Despite yourself, you find it a little endearing. This non-jealousy looks good on him and makes him handsier in car rides.

“Y’ look so fuckin’ good in these.” He’s talking about the overalls you thrifted, which appalled Gaz when he stopped by for breakfast this morning. You insisted they’re practical for the work you’re doing: going through newly delivered inventory and moving furniture around to your liking. “Thought you liked me in fancy things.” You murmur. He tells your driver to keep driving, then rolls up the partition to give you some privacy. John yanks you into his lap, a tight fit between his bulk and the ceiling of the car. It forces you to curl in tighter, your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Think y’re wearin’ these to our next gala.” Our. It grows roots and you hope it's poisonous enough to kill that flower of insecurity. He pulls you closer, and even through the denim of your pants, you can feel him grow hard under you. “John…” He kisses your exposed neck, then licks at the dust that’s settled on your skin. It’s so primal, like he’s reduced to base instincts when he’s with you. “We’re not doin’ anythin’. Jus’ want ya t’ know wha’ ya do t’ me.” He bites your earlobe, then soothes it with a lick. “So this has nothing to do with my all-male employee force?” He growls and you giggle at his annoyance. John pulls you back a bit so you’re off his cock, smirking when you groan at the loss. “Nah. Jus’ reminding you wha’ y’ve got at home.” You plant a quick kiss on his lips, then roll off and into the seat next to him. Despite the glaring safety violation, you tuck your legs under you and rest your knee on his thigh. Your hand runs through his beard, then moves up to smooth the wrinkles on his forehead. “Consider me reminded.” He kisses your palm near his face. “Now take me to dinner, I’m starving.”

-

Weeks later, you’re home late from your favorite date yet. A private movie screening of a drama film you’ve been talking about for weeks. The set-up was thoughtful and sweet, with your favorite candies and popcorn set up with a comfy blanket. However, the movie was darker than you thought, with a primary focus on a father and his strained relationship with his daughter. Two hours of watching them on screen left you raw and bloody, silent on the car ride back home. 

“Feelin’ ok?” You nod. He squeezes your thigh, but when he tries to keep his hand there, you cross your legs so it falls off. He seems to get the message, stroking the outside of your thigh before pulling his hand back.

When you get home, Gaz is at your kitchen table. You nod to him in greeting, then try to bypass him in favor of a hot shower, but he stands up and blocks your path. “We need to talk, ma’am.” His eyes flick up to John standing behind you. “Sir, you need to hear this.”

Gaz lays out building plans and tax documents that blur in front of you. Your tired brain can’t comprehend what he’s saying, something about “encroachment” and “buying up buildings.” John goes into work mode, shrugging off his jacket and sitting down to take a closer look.

“Am I really needed here? I’m sorry, I’m just tired.” John’s eyes are warm but Gaz’s aren’t, his smooth skin marred by a frown. “Shepherd's bought a building a block from your bookstore. From what I can tell, it’s empty, but it’s a safety risk. It’s got a basement that we can’t get our eyes on.” You drag a hand down your face, clearly not equipped for this conversation. “Look, it’s empty, right? So just keep eyes on it and up my number of guards. I bought my bookstore under a ghost LLC, so the only way he’ll know is if he sees me. I’ll start using the back entrance.” Gaz’s eyes flit to John’s, waiting for his opinion. You groan at being dismissed so clearly.

“You know what, you guys figure this out. I’m going to bed.”

You leave before they can say anything. A hot shower calls your name, but the water is abrasive instead of calming. The same thing happens with your skincare, sitting too heavy for comfort on your face. When you’re ready for bed, and John’s still not there, you pop a few melatonin and go to sleep, eager to delay any sort of conversation. 

-

He wakes you by brushing your shoulder gently. It’s clear the sun’s been up for a while, a rare sleep in. “Hi, baby.” You grumble at his words, turning to smother your face in your pillow. He kisses your shoulder, where his hand was, and stays there for a second, dark blue eyes tracking yours. “We need to talk.” His tone switches from sweet to serious, enough of a change to warrant you turning back to squint at him. “No.” He did not expect that, eyebrows raising. “No to whatever suggestion you’re going to make about delaying my opening or shutting down my bookstore.” You push off the covers, rising to get ready, but he yanks your arm and tugs you under him.

“It’s not fuckin’ safe.” He growls out. You push against him, trying for once. He uses his strength against you, pushing you further into the mattress. “Then make it safer. I’m not giving this up. There’s not even a clear threat yet.” You spit. Your tactical knowledge of Simon’s security strategy come to the forefront of your mind. “I’m puttin’ Gaz on yer team.” You roll your eyes, finally pushing off him to go use the bathroom. He follows you like a hound, not stopping when you try to shut the door in his face. “You’re not putting Gaz on my team. He would hate it. I don’t need a babysitter.” John doesn’t trust you, doesn’t trust the fact that you’ve been in this life for decades and know how to analyze a threat. John doesn’t respond as you pee defiantly, even when you throw a roll of toilet paper at his head to get him to leave. It’s only when you’re done washing your hands that he responds.

“It’s gettin’ more violent everyday, sweetheart. I can’t be biased when I make this call. Might need to send you t’ the country.” You can’t even compute his sentence. “What, send me away like you did 20 years ago?” That was not what you wanted to say. That was not how you wanted this conversation to be, you washing your face in your shared bathroom while he stares at you through the mirror. “Spit it out, darlin’. ‘S clear you want to.” You don’t comment on how he’s never called you darling and how evil he is to whip it out in that deep accent of his now. You towel off your face, then whirl around to face him, exposed in so many ways. “I think it’s pretty clear. You send me away when I complicate things. You did it when I was a kid and you’re doing it now. I’m a fucking problem to you, John.” He runs a hand through his beard, agitated.

“Tha’ why you hate me? ‘Cuz I told yer old man t’ send you away when I was 16 and green in the gills, not knowin’ a damn thing?” You frown, turning back to rub lotion on your face. You take your time, rubbing the excess into your wrists. John tracks the movement with squinted eyes. “I know you were young, John, but I was too.” John pulls you into him by the fabric of your t-shirt (his t-shirt). He settles his hands on your waist, ensuring eye contact before speaking. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry f’ bein’ an idiot when I was young an’ not thinkin’ about the little girl’s life I was destroyin’.” Well. That was the apology you’d been chasing for months, if not years. So why weren’t you satisfied?

“Thank you. But it doesn’t change what you’re trying to do now.” You stand and look at each other, silent. His hands don’t move and neither do yours, akimbo at your sides. “‘M not sendin’ you away. I’m keepin’ ya safe.” He murmurs. You shake your head in disagreement. “London is my home, John. The bookstore is my life. Where would you even send me?” He looks away, uncharacteristically unsure. “The country.” You roll your eyes. “You said that. I’m asking where.” He grips your hips hard, startling you. “The library.” You bark out a laugh. “The library? What, am I gonna sleep on the couch and just haunt the place.” A realization dawns on you. “No way.” 

“Baby-”

“You own it?!”

“It was my first real estate purchase.”

“When were you going to tell me? You just, what, invented an old, dying friend?”

He almost looks embarrassed, the blush of his cheeks hidden in parts by his beard. “I didn’t want ya to feel trapped and you hated me too much then to take it freely. Yer mad I did somethin’ nice?” You pull away out of his grip, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I am trapped, John. No matter how I feel about you now, I didn’t pick this marriage. On top of that, you lied. You won’t let me go on trips with you, you’re trying to push these security decisions on me, and I can’t even tell if you like me for me or my proximity. I need to go to work before I say something I’ll regret.” You dodge his reach easily, shucking on the nearest nice clothes you can find before heading downstairs to find Terrance. The clothes end up being your recently worn jeans and one of his button-ups, white for a change. It smells like him, pine and musk and man. You sniff the collar discreetly when Terrance is arranging for the car. Quick steps thud down the stairs and when you turn he’s there in a suit, unruffled and polished. You dart out the front door as quickly as possible, but because you’re weak and shameful, you turn back right before you get into the car. You mouth ‘bye’, brows knitted in frustration, and a sliver of betraying warmth hits your heart as he mouths ‘bye’ back.

-

Kyle is going to ask for a raise next week. He’s been working twelve-hour days, tearing through Shepherd's finances non-stop. He’s finally gotten to Shepherd’s employee list, unofficial, of course. Bored with the bland names, he switches over to his tabs on the bookstore. In his perusal, a name catches his eye. Phillip Sorth. Where has he seen that before?

Kyle goes through the man’s file. Pretty standard, worked at a bar before this. Kyle didn’t create this report, handing it off to a person on his team. So he’s disappointed when he clicks on the bar name, The General, and is returned with a blank page. Whoever made this is getting fucking fired.

The bar closed down three years ago. Which is odd, because Phil’s resume says he only stopped working there six months ago. When Kyle runs the address, alarm bells go off. It’s one of Shepherd’s. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He dials Price’s phone, which goes straight to voicemail. Shit. While he waits, Kyle runs another test and sure enough, Phil’s NI number links to a Phillip Graves, not Sorth. Which, of course, is a name on Shepherd’s fucking list. A top name, actually. The man’s a high-ranking spy.

Kyle dials Terrance, who also doesn’t pick up. He bursts out of the security room and ensures his keys are in his pockets before heading out the door. “Shut this shit down. We’re at Level 5.” He barks out to the men guarding the door, emulating his Captain. They immediately start talking in their earpieces and out of the corner of his eye, Kyle sees his men in the park close in on the Castle. Good. Someone needs to protect this place while he tracks down a fucking rat. Before someone harms the new angel of the Castle.

-

“Arthur, do you mind putting these away? I think my arms are going numb.” He takes the box from your hands with ease, winking as he walks away. You breathe out a sigh of relief, then trek to find Phil. He was finalizing the checkout desk, but now he’s nowhere to be seen. You really want to get his opinion on your ideas for wall decor. You head back to the office, thinking he might be there, but pause right before you walk in. Phil’s on the phone, and the walls are thin enough that you can hear his entire conversation.

“Yessir, copy that.” Who’s he calling sir? It’s like how Gaz addresses John, deferent and loyal. “Affirmative. Later today. We’ll get the van ready and-”, the rest of what he says is muffled, like he’s turned away from the door. Something isn’t right. 

That’s when you realize you haven’t seen Terrance in over thirty minutes. He went to the bathroom, which he always tells you about, making you feel like a third-grade teacher, but he hasn’t come back. You dig in your pocket for your phone, then swear when you remember you left it on the cafe counter. When you turn to go find it, there’s a wall in front of you. A human wall. Arthur.

“Sorry ‘bout this.” You try to run but a strong grip captures your arms, holding you firmly in place. From the corner of your eye you see Phil, holding you tight as you struggle against him. “John will find you. My brother will find you. You’re going to-”, except you can’t tell him what he’s going to regret, as Arthur holds a rag over your mouth and everything goes dark.

-

Sorry this took so long! This semester has been crazy. Im thinking 3-4 more chapters and we’ll be done! I hope nothing happens to reader…

-

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[rosemariiaa]

~The Party & The After Party~

𐙚— pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚— rosie’s note: why hello there..yes rosie wrote pazzi smut kill me this is the first and last okay it’s not that much bc i’m testing the waters, basically inspired by the song in the tile by the weeknd, happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚— themes: language, sexual content (public sex?), jealous p and az

𐙚— taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @bueckersbitch @makethemhoesmad @imaginespazzi @ashortyluvsports @absolutelydreadful @elliesglock @azzibuckets @sierrale8ne @ldapper

The music pulses through the air, heavy and slow, pressing against Azzi’s skin like the heat of too many bodies packed into one space. It’s not really her scene—never has been—but Paige had convinced her to come, her voice coaxing, her fingers tracing slow, persuasive circles against Azzi’s wrist. Come with me, baby. Just for a little bit. I wanna show you off. She begged.

Azzi had rolled her eyes, but she’d come anyway. She always does.

Now, Paige is standing in front of her, still close enough that Azzi can feel the warmth of her body even through the buzz of the room. Paige’s fingers slip under the hem of Azzi’s top, just for a second, a quick brush against her skin before she pulls away.

“I’ma go talk to Lyss and Dijonai,” Paige says, leaning in so Azzi can hear her over the music. “I’ll bring us back some drinks, kay?”

Azzi nods, already missing the feeling of Paige’s body, the way she makes all of this—the lights, the noise, the people—easier to deal with. Paige’s gaze flickers over her, something soft beneath the smirk she always wears.

“You good?”

Azzi huffs, nudging Paige with her elbow. “Go already.”

Paige grins, her fingers grazing Azzi’s wrist one last time before she disappears into the crowd. Azzi exhales, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly hyperaware of how many people are around her, how many unfamiliar faces blur together under the neon glow.

She lets her eyes follow Paige for a moment, watching the way she moves—easy, fluid, like she belongs here. She’s already talking to her teammates, her hands gesturing as she laughs at something one of them said. Azzi lets herself relax. She can wait.

And then—

“Didn’t take you for the type to come to these things.”

The voice is smooth, edged with amusement, and when Azzi turns, there’s a woman standing too close—tall, brunette, unfamiliar.

Azzi straightens, her shoulders tensing before she can help it. “I’m not.”

The woman smiles. “Then why are you here all alone?”

Azzi shifts her gaze, scanning the room for Paige. She’s about to tell this girl that she’s not alone, that her girlfriend will be back any second, but when she finds Paige, she’s laughing.

With someone else.

A worker, by the looks of it. Some girl in a black T-shirt, grinning too hard at something Paige just showed her on her phone. And Paige is eating it up, laughing just as much, her head tilting back, her hand brushing against the worker’s shoulder like it’s nothing.

What the fuck?

Azzi’s stomach tightens, instinct curling in her chest, but she swallows it down before it can become anything sharp. She’s not doing this. Not here.

So she breathes in. Exhales.

And then she turns back to the girl in front of her, schooling her expression into something lighter.

“You never answered my question,” the brunette says, tilting her head. “Why are you here?”

Azzi lifts a shoulder, gaze flickering down for just a second before she meets the girl’s eyes again. “Why are you?”

The brunette smiles, slow and knowing, and extends her hand. “Name’ Sophia. I play for the Aces.”

Azzi takes her hand, brief and firm. “Azzi.”

“I know,” Sophia says, her grip lingering just a second too long before she lets go. “I’ve seen you play.”

Azzi hums, noncommittal, before letting her gaze slide past Sophia’s shoulder, back to where Paige is—

Watching.

Their eyes meet across the room, and Azzi can tell, instantly, that Paige has seen everything. The way Sophia leaned in just slightly. The way Azzi hadn’t immediately shut it down.

But instead of coming over, instead of pulling her usual hey, baby and wrapping an arm around Azzi’s waist, Paige smirks.

And then she pulls out her phone.

Azzi barely has time to process what that means before her own phone buzzes in her pocket. Her fingers hover over her phone as Sophia walks away to go get them drinks, her sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, disappearing into the crowd. Azzi exhaled slowly, the weight of the charade pressing against her chest. She glanced over to the other side of the room, where Paige was still leaning casually against the counter, her grin wide as the worker she was talking to laughed at something Azzi couldn’t hear. Paige didn’t look tense. Didn’t look bothered. Just relaxed, like she had the whole night ahead of her to charm whoever was in front of her.

But Azzi knew Paige better than that. The way Paige tilted her head ever so slightly, her eyes flickering back to Azzi even while she smiled—it wasn’t nothing. Paige was watching her. Testing her.

Azzi bit her lip and unlocked her phone.

Azzi couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her chest this time. It was quick and soft, but it felt good. She slipped her phone back into her pocket just as Sophia reappeared, two drinks in hand and a bright smile plastered across her pale face.

“Miss me?” Sophia asked, stepping closer and offering Azzi one of the glasses.

Azzi took it with a polite nod, her eyes flickering back to Paige one last time. Paige was watching again,no surprise, her head tilted, her expression unreadable except for the faint smirk playing on her lips.

Azzi met her gaze evenly, raising the glass just slightly in a silent toast before turning back to Sophia.

“Not for long,” Azzi said smoothly, her voice steady as she let the weight of Paige’s stare roll off her shoulders. She took a sip of the drink and smiled at Sophia, keeping her expression just warm enough to keep the game going.

If Paige wanted to play games, Azzi could play too.

Sophia stepped in closer to Azzi, the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the space between them. Her voice dropped as she leaned toward Azzi’s ear, her hand brushing lightly against Azzi’s arm. “Y’know,” Sophia murmured, “I don’t usually do this, but—”

Before she could finish, a firm tap on her shoulder interrupted the moment.

Sophia turned around, a touch of irritation flashing across her face as she asked, “Yeah?”

Standing there, towering over her by a good two inches, was Paige. The confidence in her stance and the sharpness in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t here for the bs. Paige didn’t say anything at first—just raised her eyebrow before muttering, “Excuse me,” and deliberately bumped past Sophia, sliding between her and Azzi.

Her hand found Azzi’s waist like it was second nature, her fingers pressing possessively into the fabric of her shorts. She leaned in close, her voice low but teasing as she asked, “You miss me?”

Azzi sighed, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink. “Not particularly,” she muttered, but she didn’t move Paige’s hand.

Behind Paige, Sophia’s eyes widened in surprise. She stood there for a moment, clearly trying to piece together what was happening. “Wait,” she said, looking directly at Azzi. “I thought you were here alone?”

Paige sighed dramatically, turning around with an exaggerated eye roll. “Damn,” she said, her tone thick with sarcasm. “You still here?”

Sophia’s mouth opened as if she was about to argue, but before she could get a word out, Paige cut her off smoothly. “Look, it’s obvious she’s not here alone. So why don’t you go ahead and find someone else to bother, yeah?”

There was a beat of silence before Sophia’s face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. She glanced at Azzi one last time, waiting for her to say something, but Azzi simply raised an eyebrow, silently sipping her drink. Defeated, Sophia muttered something under her breath and walked away.

Once she was gone, Azzi finally turned to Paige, brushing her hands off her waist. “What’d you make my friend leave for?”

Paige scoffed, crossing her arms as she looked down at Azzi. “Yo friend? You ain’t want her to stay. C’mon now.”

“Whatever,” Azzi mumbled, shaking her head. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Paige’s lips curled into a mock pout as she stepped closer, pulling Azzi back in by her waist. “Aw, you seem jealous, baby,” she teased, her voice dropping into a playful drawl. “Was it ‘cus I was talking to her?”

“Fuck off, Paige,” Azzi shot back, trying to sound annoyed, but the faint blush creeping up her neck betrayed her.

Paige tilted her head, her grin widening. “Baby, I wasn’t even doing anything.”

Azzi scoffed, setting her drink down on the table nearby. “Yeah? Sure didn’t look like it. You were having a grand ole time, laughing your ass off.”

Paige’s grin softened into something more genuine as she leaned back slightly, her hands still firmly on Azzi’s waist. “Oh, that?” she said, her tone almost amused. “You mean when me and the bartender were talking about you?”

Azzi frowned, her confusion flickering across her face. “What?”

Paige chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. “She’s a fan, Azzi. She got so excited when she realized who you were. Said she’d been waiting all night to make a drink for the Azzi Fudd.”

Azzi blinked, her annoyance faltering. “What?” she repeated, quieter this time.

Paige’s smile turned softer as she continued, “She even showed me this old picture she had of you two as kids, y’all went to the same school I guess. You both had chocolate all over your faces. I couldn’t stop laughing, so I showed her one of mine from back then. It turned into a whole thing which kinda made me forget about our drinks.”

Azzi rubbed her face with her hands, a groan slipping out as guilt settled in her chest. “oh,” she muttered, dropping her hands to look up at Paige. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” Paige interrupted, but there was no bite to her words. She pulled Azzi closer. Now their chests were pressed together, and Paige leaned down, her lips brushing Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “You know I don’t want anyone else but you, princess.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, her heart hammering against her ribs. Paige was so close, her breath carrying the faint scent of mint and Shirley Temple, her Dior cologne wrapping around Azzi like a second skin.

Paige leaned back just enough to meet Azzi’s eyes, her voice low and deliberate. “I think I’ve made that clear, haven’t I?”

Azzi couldn’t do anything but nod, her hands instinctively gripping the front of Paige’s shirt for balance.

The corner of Paige’s mouth quirked up, her confidence radiating as she murmured, “Good.”

Azzi swallowed hard, trying to pull herself together. “Let’s go,” she said suddenly, her voice firmer than she expected.

Paige tilted her head, her grin turning mischievous. “Go where?”

“To the car,” Azzi replied, already pulling Paige’s hand to lead the way.

Paige followed without hesitation, the smirk never leaving her face as she let Azzi guide her.

—

Azzi didn’t let go of Paige’s hand as they made their way through the crowd, her grip firm. She walked ahead, her pace steady, but there was an urgency in the way her fingers tightened around Paige’s. Paige followed with a smirk tugging at her lips, watching Azzi’s determination from behind, her ponytail swaying with each step.

When they reached the car, Azzi made her way to the passenger side, her hand still in Paige’s. Paige started to move ahead, her free hand reaching for the door handle. “Here, I got it—”

Before Paige could finish, Azzi spun her around, pinning her back against the car with surprising strength. The cool metal pressed against Paige’s back, but the heat of Azzi’s body in front of her erased it immediately.

Azzi didn’t waste a second. Her lips crashed onto Paige’s, her hands gripping the blonde’s hips as if anchoring herself. Paige’s initial surprise melted into something far more eager as she let out a quiet sigh, her hands instinctively finding their way to Azzi’s waist.

Azzi deepened the kiss, her fingers sliding to the back of Paige’s neck, pulling her closer as her tongue brushed against Paige’s lower lip before slipping into her mouth. Paige groaned into the kiss, her fingers tightening on Azzi’s hips before sliding lower.

“Damn,” Paige mumbled against Azzi’s lips, her voice slightly breathless. Her hands gripped the curve of Azzi’s ass through her shorts, and Azzi gasped softly in response, her breath hitching before muttering, “Fuck.”

Paige chuckled against her mouth, her fingers pressing more firmly as she whispered, “What’s that, princess?”

Azzi didn’t answer, too caught up in the way Paige’s soft lips moved against hers. Her voice came out as a broken mumble between kisses, “P…need you,” her words trailing off as her teeth grazed Paige’s bottom lip, her tongue following close behind.

She broke the kiss, her breath heavy as she looked up at Paige, lips swollen and slightly parted. Paige smirked, the glint in her eye making Azzi’s heart pound harder and her core wetter. The blonde leaned in, brushing her lips against Azzi’s ear, her voice low and teasing.

“Tell me, princess,” Paige murmured, her hand still gripping Azzi’s waist, keeping her firmly against the car. “How bad do you need it?”

Azzi swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on Paige’s shoulders. Her big, doe-like eyes met Paige’s, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip before she answered softly, “So bad.”

Paige licked her lips, the corners of her mouth curling into a wicked smile as she tilted her head. “Yeah?” she teased, her voice dripping with control. “Lemme make sure.”

Azzi’s brows furrowed in confusion, her breath hitching as Paige’s hand slid from her ass to the front of her shorts. Paige’s fingers unbuttoned them, slipping beneath the waistband and pushing past the thin fabric of Azzi’s underwear.

The moment Paige’s fingers brushed against her, Azzi’s eyes widened, a soft gasp leaving her lips. She instinctively pressed her forehead to Paige’s shoulder, her entire body shivering as the blonde’s fingers explored her slick heat.

“Fuck..,” Paige muttered, her lips brushing against Azzi’s temple as her hand moved slowly. “You’re so wet.” Her voice was low and heavy, sending a shiver down Azzi’s spine. “Why’s that, huh?”

Azzi let out a shaky breath, gripping the back of Paige’s shirt as if to steady herself. “Because of you,” she mumbled, her voice breaking slightly as she fought to keep her composure. Paige tilted her head, her smirk deepening as she pressed her palm more firmly against Azzi’s clit, making the brunette gasp sharply. Paige’s voice was low, her breath tickling Azzi’s ear as she asked, “Who?”

Azzi’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of Paige’s shirt, her chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat, her lips trembling.

“P-Paige,” she finally stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “Fuck… P-please, I need it.”

Paige’s smirk only grew, the sound of Azzi’s desperate plea sending a rush of heat through her. Without saying a word, Paige slid Azzi’s underwear to the side, her fingers finally feeling her completely.

“Shit,” Paige groaned, her head dropping slightly as she leaned closer. The slickness she felt against her fingers made her chest tighten, and she couldn’t help but let out a low, satisfied moan. “God, baby,” she muttered against Azzi’s lips, the words barely audible as she pressed a searing kiss to her mouth.

Azzi whimpered into the kiss, her hands sliding up to grip the back of Paige’s neck, holding her closer as her knees threatened to give out. Paige didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, groaning again as Azzi’s hips shifted slightly against her hand.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Paige murmured against her lips, her voice dripping with both desire and satisfaction. “All for me, huh?”

Azzi could only nod frantically, her breath hitching as Paige’s fingers moved in tight circles on her, each touch igniting a fire that spread through her entire body. “Only for you,” she whispered, her voice breaking, as her eyes fluttered shut. Paige smirked into the kiss as she rubbed azzis clit faster, fingers sliding up and down her wet making Azzi moan into her mouth, her soft sounds vibrating against Paige’s lips and only spurring her on.

Azzi’s hands gripped Paige’s shoulders tightly, her breathing uneven as she tried to form words. “P-Paige,” she gasped, her voice shaky. “W-what if someone c-comes out?”

Paige chuckled lowly, brushing her lips against Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “Don’t worry about that, baby. No one’s coming. Just… fuck—” she groaned, moving her fingers faster and Azzi closer, the heat and wetness making her head spin. “You feel so fucking good.”

Azzi whimpered, her head falling forward onto Paige’s shoulder as her legs wavered. But Paige wasn’t about to let her go anywhere. Her other hand gripped Azzi’s waist firmly, keeping her pressed against the car as she dipped two fingers deep inside her without warning.

Azzi gasped sharply, her head snapping back as her lips parted in a soft cry. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her nails digging into Paige’s shirt as her body shuddered against her.

Paige’s lips curled into a satisfied smile as she watched Azzi’s reaction, her own breath hitching as she felt how tightly Azzi gripped her fingers. “That’s it, baby,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire. She leaned closer, brushing her lips along Azzi’s jaw before whispering, “You’re so tight, fuck. Taking me so good mama.”

Azzi tried to respond, but all that escaped her lips was a broken moan as Paige began to move her fingers, slow and oh so deep . Her hips instinctively bucked forward, and she squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of Paige’s fingers.

“Look at me,” Paige demanded softly, her free hand tilting Azzi’s chin up so their eyes met. The intensity in Paige’s gaze made Azzi’s stomach flip, and her lips quivered as she tried to hold back another moan.

“P-Paige,” Azzi whimpered, her breath hitching again as Paige curled her fingers just right, hitting that same spot Paige was always so good at finding. “F-fuck… please.”

“Please what?” Paige teased, her voice a low rasp as she leaned in, her lips grazing Azzi’s. “Tell me what you need, princess.”

Azzi’s head tilted back against the car, her lips trembling as she gasped, “Need to cum.. Please, I—”

Paige cut her off with a deep kiss, her fingers moving faster now, her thumb rubbing tight circles on Azzis puffy clit, each motion making Azzi’s soft cries grow louder despite her attempts to stay quiet. Paige smirked against her lips, knowing Azzi was losing the battle of keeping herself composed. Paige could feel her tightening around her fingers, the brunette’s body trembling against her as her breathing grew uneven. Paige smirked, her lips brushing along Azzi’s jawline as she whispered, “You’re so close, aren’t you, baby?”

Azzi whimpered, her nails digging into Paige’s shoulders as her hips rocked forward, chasing the building orgasm. “Y-yeah,” she gasped, her voice shaky and breathless.

Paige pressed a kiss just below Azzi’s ear, her fingers moving faster, deeper, as she tilted her head to murmur, “C’mon, Az come on my fingers. You’ve been so good—so damn good. I wanna feel you.”

Azzi moaned, the sound desperate and needy as her head fell forward onto Paige’s shoulder. Her thighs trembled, and she could barely hold herself up as Paige’s words pushed her closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” Paige encouraged, her tone low and soothing, though there was a roughness in it that only fueled Azzi’s need. “You feel how good you’re doing? I’ve got you.”

Azzi whimpered again, her grip on Paige tightening as her breathing hitched. “P-Paige,” she stuttered, her voice breaking. “I—oh my god—I’m—”

“Y’gonna come for me, aren’t you?” Paige murmured, her breath hot against Azzi’s skin. She pressed her thumb hard against Azzi’s clit, rubbing in time with her thrusts as she added, “Come on, baby, give it to me”

Azzi’s eyes squeezed shut, and her body went taut as a sharp cry escaped her lips. Her climax washed over her in waves, her hips bucking as Paige held her firmly, coaxing her through it with soft murmurs.

“There you go,” Paige whispered, slowing her movements but keeping her fingers inside Azzi, riding out every shudder and tremble. “You’re so perfect, baby. So fucking perfect.”

Azzi sagged against Paige, her forehead pressed to Paige’s neck as she tried to catch her breath. Her body was still trembling slightly, and she let out a soft, shaky laugh. “You’re too good at that,” she whispered weakly, her voice muffled against Paige’s skin.

Paige chuckled, sliding her hand out gently and holding Azzi close. “I know ,” she countered, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s temple. “C’mon, let’s get you in the car before someone really does come out here.”

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Can I request one where Reader is emotionally unavailable and doesn't believe in love but Bucky has been harboring a long time crush on her and is in love with her but it's unrequited. Reader's parents were divorced and didn't have a good marriage (Reader's mom was abused by her dad) and the relationships of the people closest to her like friends and relatives also weren't that good either and she had also met not so many great men and some were abusive as well so she just became pessimistic and stopped believing in love and doesn't think true love exists. He's trying to get her to change her mind on love,romance and relationship/marriage and has been trying to tear down the walls she's built around herself so she would give him a chance. His efforts didn't go unnoticed and Reader finally realized how much Bucky really loves her and how deep his feelings run for her and started reciprocating. She let him take her out on dates and as she spends more and more time with him,she slowly falls in love with him too. She finally realizes how amazing he is and what a beautiful soul he has. Happy endings all around,of course! Bonus if there's a fast forward years later where Bucky proposed and they got married and finally got their happily ever after.

Love Exists » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky tries to get you to believe that love exists again.

Warnings: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, language, mentions of divorce (reader’s parents), mentions of past abuse/bad relationships, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the beautifully descriptive request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

For as long as Bucky has known you, he’s always had a huge crush on you. It’s no secret. He always makes it obvious. He gets butterflies in his stomach and his heart skips a beat every time he sees you. He always shows you little pieces of affection. He doesn’t always expect you to show him affection back. He just wants you to know that he’s always there for you when you need him. In other words, the former Winter Soldier is a big softie for you.

Bucky knows about what happened between your parents, abuse and divorce. He also knows you didn’t have good relationships with other people like relatives and friends. What he doesn’t know is what happened with guys you dated in the past, which resulted in abuse. You just don’t want him to think you’re broke and unlovable. You now believe that love doesn’t exist anymore. It’s something you came to terms with after being in not so great relationships.

Bucky has always been a great friend to you, which makes you feel bad for not telling him about what actually happened in your past relationships. You want to tell him, but at the same time, you don’t want to. You feel like he’ll stop being your friend cause you didn’t tell him sooner.

You and Bucky haven’t seen each other in a few days due yo him being on a mission. Today, Bucky wants to take you out to lunch. Not as a date. He just wants to hangout with you. He bought your favorite flowers before going to your house.

“Hi, Bucky.” You greeted softly, stepping aside to allow him to come inside.

“Hi, doll.” Bucky smiles, handing you the bouquet of flowers.

You gave him a small smile as you took the flowers out of his hand. You went to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase with water. Bucky followed behind you.

“Do you want to go out to lunch or something?” He asks.

“Sure.” You answered. “What restaurant do you have in mind?” You asked.

“We can go to your favorite restaurant if you want. My treat.” He says sweetly.

“Ok.” You say with a small smile.

When you and Bucky got to your favorite restaurant and ordered, you two caught up with each other.

“That’s enough about me. How are you, doll?” Bucky says.

“I’m ok.” You say, fiddling with your fingers.

Bucky picked up on that. He knows it’s something you do when you’re nervous or when something is on your mind.

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly.

“It’s nothing.” You say quietly.

“It’s not nothing if something is bothering you.” He says.

You continued to fiddle with your fingers. Bucky put his hands in yours to get you to stop fiddling with your fingers.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He says.

You nodded.

“Tell me what it is.” He murmurs softly.

You stared at the table for a few seconds before saying anything and looking up at him.

“I haven’t told you everything about me.” You mumbled.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“You know how my parent’s marriage ended, right?” You say.

“Yea. Your dad hurt your mom.” Bucky says, referring to abuse.

“Well…” You nervously began. “I was also in that kind of relationship in past relationships.” You finally tell him.

Bucky’s facial expressions softened and his jaw clenched at the thought of someone laying a hand on you.

“I’m sorry you went through that.” He almost whispers.

Bucky reached a hand up to caress your cheek, but you moved back out of instinct. He quickly retracted his hand.

“Sorry.” You mumbled. “It’s something I do when people raise their hands.” You say.

“It’s ok. I understand.” He murmurs in an understanding voice.

Bucky can’t help but wonder if that’s the reason why you don’t show any kind of affection for him. He doesn’t want to pester you about it, but he wants you to know you’re loved.

The next day, Bucky texted you to come to the Avengers compound. He told you that he wants to talk to you, but he didn’t tell you what he wants to talk about.

“Hi, Bucky.” You greeted him as you walked in the lounge room.

“Hi, doll.” Bucky smiles.

“Your text said you wanted to talk.” You say. “What do you want to talk about?” You asked.

“It’s about what you told me yesterday.” He says.

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach when he said that. You knew you shouldn’t have told him. Now, you’re he thinks you’re broken and unlovable and you’re probably going to lose him as your friend.

“What- What about it?” You asked nervously.

“I can’t imagine what you went through in your past relationships, but you’ll always have me. I’ll love you no matter what.” He says.

“That’s the problem, Bucky. Love doesn’t exist for me anymore.” You say.

“Of course it does, doll.” He says, trying to stay positive.

“No it doesn’t! My relationships with relatives, friends, and exes basically told me that I’m incapable of being loved. I had a hard time coming to terms with it.” You say, your eyes tearing up.

“Doll…” Bucky begins.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” You say, your voice cracking.

You stood up and left, accidentally bumping into Steve on your way out.

“Why’s Y/N crying?” Steve asks Bucky.

“She told me something personal yesterday and I stupidly brought it up.” Bucky tells him.

“It’s not stupid if you care. I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sure she’ll understand how much you care about her once you tell her.” He says.

“That’s the thing, Steve. She thinks love doesn’t exist anymore.” He says.

“Try talking to her again.” He suggests.

Bucky knows Steve is right. All he has to do is explain how love exists again and maybe, just maybe, you’ll think love still exists for you.

“You’re right. Thanks, man.” Bucky smiles.

“Anytime, Buck.” Steve smiles back, patting his shoulder.

Bucky then got on his motorcycle and zoomed through traffic to get to your house. You heard the sound of his motorcycle and opened the door before he even knocked. You hugged him before he walked inside of your house.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled against his chest.

“You don’t have to apologize, doll. I understand.” Bucky almost whispers. “Will you at least hear me out?” He asks softly.

You thought about it for a moment before nodding your head yes. Bucky gently guided you back in the house, closing the door behind him. You two went to the living room and sat down on the couch.

“What I was trying to say earlier was love does exist. You don’t have to believe it right now.” Bucky says, looking in your eyes.

“I don’t know, Bucky.” You mumbled quietly, looking down at your lap and playing with your fingers. “What if I never believe it exists?” You asked.

“You will. Just give it time.” He puts a comforting hand on your knee. “I’m saying this as the man who’s in love with you.” He says.

“Wh-What?” You asked.

“I’m in love with you.” He repeats. “I have been since we meet.” He admits.

Your bottom lip quivered and your eyes teared up. You think it’s sweet that Bucky’s in love with you, but how can someone be in love with someone who doesn’t believe love exists anymore.

“How can you be in love with someone who doesn’t believe love exists?” You asked, your voice cracking.

“I think you’re absolutely gorgeous, my heart skips a beat every time I see you, and you make me smile.” He tells you softly.

“But I’m unlovable.” You say.

“You are absolutely lovable.” Bucky gently caresses your cheek. “Give it time and you’ll feel what I feel.” He murmurs softly.

You stared in his blue eyes and nodded. Bucky gave you a kiss on your forehead.

“When you’re ready, we’ll take it slow and one step at a time.” He says, wiping your tears away.

At first you didn’t really think about it cause of your past relationships, but at the same time, it gave you a lot to think about. That’s all you thought about for the next couple of weeks. You slowly started coming around to the idea of love existing for you.

You went to the Avengers compound to talk to Bucky. You know you should’ve called or texted him first, but you just wanted to see him and tell him what you think in person. You walked in the gym to see Bucky training with Steve.

“Buck, Y/N is here.” Steve says, pointing at you.

Bucky turns around, smiling when he seen you. He cut training short with Steve to talk to you. Steve doesn’t mind. He’s just happy that his best friend is in love.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky smiles. “What’s up?” He says.

“I want to talk to you about something important.” You say. “Can we talk now or are you busy?” You asked.

“I’m not busy.” He says.

“What about your training with Steve?” You asked.

“He understands.” He says.

Bucky lead you to the lounge room so you two can talk privately.

“What do you want to talk about?” He asks.

“What you told me the last time we saw each other.” You said. “I wasn’t sure at first, but I thought about it after a while. I’m slowly starting to believe love exists for me. You made it sound believable.” You say.

“Doll, that’s great! I’m happy for you!” He exclaims softly.

“I’m in love with you too.” You admitted. “But I’m scared.” You say.

“Scared of what, doll?” He asks.

“Of getting hurt in more than one way.” You say in almost a whisper, your voice cracking and your eyes tearing up.

“I won’t ever hurt you in the ways your exes did. I’m not that kind of man. If anything I’ll protect you.” He says softly.

“Promise?” You asked.

“I promise.” He promises in a soft whisper.

Bucky gave you a soft kiss on your cheek before looking in your eyes and holding your hands in his.

“Can I take you on a date?” Bucky asks softly.

“Yes.” You smiled.

This smile is bigger than the other ones he has seen. His heart skipped a beat when he seen it.

“Is tomorrow night at 7pm too soon for you?” He asks.

“No, but I’m nervous. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.” You say.

“It’s ok. I haven’t been on a date in a while either. I assure you it’ll be nice.” He says.

You smiled and nodded. You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his cheek, making his heart flutter in his chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Bucky says.

“You too.” You says.

Bucky smiles as he watched you walk away. That smile remained on his face for the day.

The next day, as your date with Bucky got closer, your nerves set in even more. You weren’t having second thoughts about your date with him or anything. You just feel even more nervous. A little bit of your nerves calmed down when you got a text from Bucky.

Bucky: I’m on my way

You: I’ll be waiting

You turned your phone off and looked in the mirror. You took a deep breath and smoothed out your dress and made sure you look nice for Bucky. More nerves settled in when Bucky knocked on the door. Your heart started pounding. You took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Wow…” Bucky was stunned by your beauty. “You look gorgeous.” He compliments.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yes.” He smiles.

“Thank you.” You smiled back. “You look handsome.” You complimented.

“I think we both know you’re the one with all of the beauty, doll.” He compliments again, making you blush. “You ready for our date?” He asks.

“Yes.” You smiled.

Bucky held his hand out for yours. You put your hand in his and you two left for yours and his date.

“Are you still nervous?” Bucky asks.

You nodded your head yes.

“It’s ok. You have me.” He assures softly.

Bucky treated you like a princess the whole night, the way you’re supposed to be treated. Unlike how you were treated by your exes. Bucky’s love for you is real and you’re starting to believe more that love exists still for you.

“Bucky?” You say softly.

“Yes, doll?” Bucky asks.

“Thank you getting me to believe that love still exists for me, even though it took a while.” You say.

Bucky smiles and picked up your hand, bring it to his lips and kissed it softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, doll. I’m happy you’re able to believe in it again.” He says softly.

Bucky’s eyes glanced down at your lips and then looked deep in your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

“Yes.” You answered.

Bucky’s hand gently caressed your cheek and leaned in, kissing you softly, sweetly, and passionately. Your hands grasped his shirt, clutching the fabric in your hands. You quickly melted into his touch. His lips felt soft against yours and moves in sync with yours. You two smiled against each other’s lips. As you two continued to kiss passionately, you could see a future with Bucky. Bucky can see that same future with you.

———

“Where are you taking me, baby?” You asked with a small giggle.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out, babydoll.” Bucky says, kissing your cheek.

Bucky told you he had a surprise for you. He blindfolded you for it. He’s carefully guiding you to where the surprise is, which happens to be in yours and his favorite spot in the park.

“You can take the blindfold off now.” He says.

You took the blindfold off, gasping softly. There were rose petals in the shape of heart on the ground.

“Bucky, this is-” You turned around, gasping again when you seen Bucky down on one knee with a small velvet box that has the most beautiful diamond ring you’ve ever seen in it.

“I love you more than anything in this world, doll. You mean so much to me. Would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” He asks softly.

“Yes!” You answered happily with tears of joy rolling down your cheeks.

Bucky smiles widely and put the ring on your finger. He stood up and kissed you passionately, holding you close to him. You then looked at the diamond ring on your finger, smiling widely.

“Mrs. Barnes has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Bucky says.

“It has a beautiful ring to it.” You agreed with a smile, kissing him softly.

———

You woke up to the sound of waves outside and the sun shining through the window of yours and Bucky’s honeymoon suit. You rubbed your eyes and stretched. You turned over, met by your husband’s loving gaze.

“Good morning, Mrs Barnes.” Bucky murmurs, kissing you good morning.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes.” You murmured back softly.

“I have the most gorgeous wife.” He almost whispers, caressing your cheek and looking deep in your eyes.

You couldn’t help but blush and smile uncontrollably. You’re finally Bucky’s wife and he’s finally your husband.

“I love you so much, baby.” You whispered.

“I love you more, babydoll.” He whispers back.

Bucky’s love for you and his vows to you is prove enough that love exists and you have him to thank for it. You feel more than lucky to have a man like him as your husband. You’re going to spend the rest of your life cherishing that love.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ SEUNGHYUN (T.O.P) AS YOUR HUSBAND

୨ৎ pairing: husband!seunghyun x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! with mild sex talk

୨ৎ from myeong: hi!!! super duper excited to take this request since he’s been my love since I was a very young girl! have always looked up to him and I’m so happy to be writing for him!! and he’s back?! wooo!! please enjoy this! x

he’s going to be a very caring, attentive, and thoughtful husband. I don’t care what anyone else says about him, he’s going to be the bestest husband and do all that he can to make you happy.

is he perfect? nope. not even close to it and no one is perfect but what he does is try and he shows you that he cares and cares enough to work hard to keep the relationship as healthy as it can be.

sometimes isn’t clingy because he wants you to be the one to break first. he definitely enjoys watching you run to him for a hug, kiss, or something else.

shy!!!! he’s not shy all the time and likes to be the dominant one in the relationship of course and in a very non toxic way but when he does feel shy it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen a man do.

“what? you think this suit looks good on me? oh.. it’s what they told me to wear and honestly I wasn’t sure if it was too much.. but since you like it—”

he won’t finish because he’s looking down at the ground cheeks slightly pink from feeling a bit shy and embarrassed by how you keep staring at him and complimenting him. sounds weird for him hm? well! you’re just that special girl to him. I mean come on he married you!! he’s a different man now.

is very overly protective over you. will do all that he can to protect you and your relationship. since you are now a married couple he takes it to another level of wanting you and him protected as a couple.

“would you like to try this new dish with me? I can make it! or.. maybe.. we can cook it together?”

please cook with him because he secretly loves it and falls more in love with you watching how you cut up vegetables and the look on your pretty face when you’re concentrated and working. so cute

seunghyun is very obsessed with morning sex especially now as a married couple he just feels it’s needed and if you both don’t have time in the morning then expect before bedtime sex.

he loves trying new things with you. when he first brought up pulling hair.. it wasn’t yours. it was his. you pulled on his soft black locks and he felt this spark inside of him that he’s never felt before.

if it was a long night of sex he purposely gets up before you and makes you breakfast but not in bed since he’ll kindly drag you out of bed and have you sit at the table with him but you always end up sitting in his lap which he enjoys more of course.

“you’re such a pretty girl did you know that?”

“I.. love you a lot. thank you for loving me despite everything that I’ve been through. thank you.”

he’s a cautious husband and never wants you to feel hurt or anything close to that. he’ll do all that he can to make sure you’re happy, comfortable, and safe. he’s careful with his words especially when you two get into small arguments. he’s learned from the past on what not to do.

seunghyun is very emotional and he’s not afraid to show that with you. when he was younger it was a different story but he’s older now and has been through things that has shown him it’s okay to show such emotions. he trusts you as his wife and always cries in your arms if he desperately needs it.

expect movie nights with him!! which end in not watching the movie at all and just talking to each other about the weirdest topics or space of course.

will take so many pictures of you posing next to the moon specially the full moon since it’s his favorite! he finds it beautiful just like you. cries

nights in are his favorite but if you want to go out then he’ll do that for you. he’ll enjoy going on walks with you while eating ice cream his most favorite sweets. his free hand will hold yours tightly.

craves you in every way possible. he’ll need to kiss you often and stroke your hair or pull you closer to him and his larger frame. he enjoys how much shorter you are and constantly brings it up.

[hellhunde]

This was an illustration requested on my patreon for $5! This was the illustration for December!

homunculushound on Patreon requested "Something About Condor and Crane". There's not a lot I can show without dipping into spoiler territory, so I decided to just go with their meeting!

Instead of a long winded explanation under the cut this time, I wrote a little scene to go with it! My prose isn't the best, but I thought that would likely be more fun than just hearing me talk about it! I'd honestly love to write more little scenes for these illustrations, but we'll see!

--------

Crane was still lost on what to do without her mother. The flock had only lost Goose a couple of days ago to wounds caused by that supposed King. Watching the life drain from her mother’s eyes, hearing her final words rasp out of her mouth—”Keep the colony safe”—it all weighed heavy in Crane’s mind. Crane had been trained and groomed to take Goose’s place since she was a kitten. But now that the time was finally here….

Crane wasn't a fighter. Not many in the Flock really were. While Goose had made the judgement to allow refugees fleeing the King’s conquest to join the Flock’s ranks, many were not battle hardened either. The majority were widowed mothers and fathers with kittens to raise, the elderly, and the already injured. Not much to be able to honor her mother’s dying wish.

The Flock were sitting ducks if she couldn't get her colony in a place to actually defend themselves. She wasn't going to roll over and let that barbarian wipe out Goose's Flock—Crane’s flock—for his own gain. 

“Mother Crane?” Crane’s ear twitched at being called leader’s title. She still was not used to being called it. It was only the original Flock members that used the Mother honorific anyway. She sensed it often made the refugees too uncomfortable. She tilted her head around to see Blackbird, her medic. 

“Yes?” Crane answered.

“Uh,” Blackbird stammered out. “That cat is awake.”

Crane's ears perked. After her mother's passing, she’d taken a walk to clear her head. How convenient then had she instead found the broken body of a muscular cat in a ditch. She thought he had been a corpse, until she saw his body twitch and his eyes train on her. She sent for the medics to treat him only as insurance. She hadn't expected him to actually live. 

“Oh, good.” Crane wrapped her hairless tail around her paws. “What has he said?”

“Nothing,” Blackbird said. “Nothing at all. He just…stares. I think he might be incompetent.”

“Incompetent or not, he must be a strong soul to survive with those terrible wounds,” she said. “And the Flock needs more of those. Take me to him, maybe I can get him to talk.”

Blackbird scoffed. “Don't see what you could do that we haven't already tried.

“You should never doubt the feminine wiles, Blackbird.”

---

Blackbird was right about one thing. This cat sure did like to stare.

His head sat flat with the floor, paws on either side sheltering his muzzle. Without all the blood coating his body, Crane could more easily see the other scars that littered his huge body. This wasn’t his first tussle clearly. Crane winced as she saw the red bandages on the underside of his belly and neck. 

She spared a glance at Blackbird before she walked towards him. His large amber eyes stayed glued on her. In the morning light they showed almost red. 

“Hello, there,” Crane said soothingly, her mother had taught her. He blinked. “I’m Crane and this is the Flock’s base. Or at least a makeshift base. Our old home got ransacked and destroyed by the King’s army.”

The tom blinked again. Crane shot a look over her shoulder at Blackbird. He shrugged. 

“What's your name?” She tried instead, turning back to the tom.

Still no response. In fact, no indication he had understood her at all. Just those same large red eyes looking at her. They reminded Crane of a kitten’s: innocent, curious, scared. What a ridiculous thought. This tom must’ve been several months her senior. 

“See, Mother Crane?” Blackbird called from the entrance. “Incompetent. Can’t understand a word you say to him. We might as well throw him with kittens for all the good he would do in a fighting force.”

Crane sighed. She was about to open her mouth to sadly agree when the tom lifted his head. 

“...mother?” He said, in a raspy voice. His eyes were still blown out wide and staring at her. 

“He can talk—” Blackbird said, trotting inside to stand beside Crane. “Well, why didn’t you speak up before?”

At Blackbird’s scolding, the tom put his head down again. Crane smiled for a moment, thinking it looked like a turtle retreating into its shell with all the neck fluff he had.

Blackbird gave an aggravated huff. Crame ran her tail down his back. 

“Let me speak with him alone,” she said. “Maybe he’ll respond better to me. I’ll report anything he says back to you, okay?”

Blackbird hesitated. He eyed the tom once more before nodding. He leaped back out through the entrance, leaving Crane alone with the strange cat. Crane watched his eyes follow Blackbird out of the den, unblinking.

“Now,” she said, sitting down in front of him and getting comfortable. “how about you tell me your name?”

He took several moments to answer. Crane was beginning to worry he had gone mute again when his mouth opened.

“Tiny,” he said. Crane couldn't help but huff a laugh. She was glad to see whoever his mother was clearly had a sense of humor. Tiny’s ears perked at the sound of it. 

“Well, Tiny,” Crane said, laughter still in her voice. “This is my colony, The Flock. We’re the ones who saved you. Can I ask what happened?”

“Got ambushed.” Crane watched Tiny’s claws sheath and unsheath. 

“Now why would they do that?”

“I killed some of them.” The frankness at which he said the words sent a shiver through Crane. That had not been what she expected to come out of Tiny’s mouth. He pouted. “It's not fair to get ganged up on though. It’s mean!”

Something is seriously wrong with this cat, Crane thought. She considered for a moment speaking with Blackbird and maybe killing Tiny themselves. Something painless. That's what Goose would've done. With so many mothers and kittens joining the colony, he might be more of a liability than anything. Though, Goose wouldn't have dragged a shambled almost-corpse back to their base during this desperate time in the first place. 

But something kept her from making that call. For one, Blackbird and the other medics had used so many resources on helping this cat, it would be a waste to just kill him now. And for two… the way he looked at her. While before he had been staring at her non-stop, now he seemed to find anywhere else but her face much more interesting. He spared shy glances at her, seeming to gauge her reaction. 

She’d done the same with Goose several times. Whenever she’d come back with prey after a long day for them to share. Whenever she made an order around the colony that her mother had taught her. Whenever she’d brought Scout back to her mother, claiming him as her mate.

Approval. 

But Goose wasn't around anymore. Crane didn't need to get approval from anyone.

She fixed Tiny with a warm smile, a purr escaping her throat. “That isn't fair. We’re in that same situation now.”

“Really?” Tiny said, genuinely surprised. 

“Yes,” Crane continued. “See, the King’s Army is bullying us small colony cats, it's just not fair. We need as many cats in our corner to hold them back. You seem like a strong fighter, you can join us if you’d like.”

“I can?” Tiny said excitedly. He pushed himself up, before wincing at the pain of his injuries. “I’ve never been in a colony before!”

“Yup. All you have to do is change your name to a bird. That's all.”

Tiny thought for a moment, his lips pursed like an overactive kitten being asked some history fact. While his demeanor was definitely odd, Crane was becoming more charmed by it as the moments passed. Tiny was handsome. His build was much different than Scout’s, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all. She felt the burning shame of what her mother would think, but Goose didn’t have a say over her life anymore. Lost it the moment life had faded from her eyes.

“That cat called you mother,” Tiny said, pointing with his muzzle towards the entrance. “A mother is the one that names kittens, so you should name me!”

“Oh, I’m not—” she began before cutting herself off. She didn't think it was worth it to explain to this cat that ‘mother’ was just the Flock leader’s honorific. She wasn't sure he would be fully able to understand it anyway. “...Whatever, sure. I’ll name you. Hmmm, how about Condor? We found you in a bloody heap of yourself afterall.”

At that Tiny—Condor—finally cracked a smile, all teeth. Crane wasn't scared by the sight of them. 

“I love it!” Condor said.

[ghostykapi]

twice and the ways to say i miss you when they are touring

im nayeon

i’m sorry but you must endure the one thousand kisses once she gets back or she will cry

demands with pouts and that cute voice that makes you cave in

what? the tour is amazing but after being weeks apart from her lover can make her do weird things (ask jeong or jihyo, they can confirm)

she’s got a whole bottle of your perfume/fragrance to cope with a your jacket so it feels like you’re always there giving her a hug

but now that she’s back >:)))

will 100%, with no miss at all, pin you down every morning to snuggle and kiss you despite your whines of you trying to be a bit early to work

oh you work from home? better make sure you work fast or she will distract you with those hands 😋 no escape for you

yoo jeongyeon

constant video calls to keep her grounded but it’s never enough to make her feel that 100% energy boost

lowkey losing it but to her members they can see how miserable she can get when you aren’t there

sorry she’s like this but she just really really needs your cuddles right now and the fact that you’re so far away makes it so so so mean :((

she manages with the polaroids of both of you that she brings everywhere

of course she won’t pressure you but good lord you also don’t know what to do without her close to you at most nights

and that’s why you’re always with her on tour once you can start working remotely, always either disguised as the “manager/staff” or straight up out to the world that you’re her lover

hirai momo

misses you and her children (read: her dogs) that when she fatetimes you she’s abt to sob

“my babies!” she says everytime you go on call and boo and dobby are with you

clings unto sana to cope (both of them are coping together through the power of friendship!!!)

one time she managed to convince all of twice to get food at 4 am to cope??? anyway yeah so there they were at 4 am at a taco cart munching away with like two other managers

everytime she comes home she brings you snacks and treats and spends most of her time with you and her dogs

minatozaki sana

on the outside she’s calm cool collected a lil flirty

in the inside she’s screaming fighting for her LIFE because wdym you aren’t a phone call away from her to cling unto you huh

clings unto her members for moral support and they always send pictures of her clinging to you (THROUGH THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP)

buys you jewelry that she thinks looks good on you and copes with that information until she lands back home

pouncing on you the moment you see her come down from the van in front of your apartment/home

“baby!!!” she screams as she clings unto you like a koala and she’s abt to make you both fall over

sorry she’s never letting you go

you are now the latest personal bodyguard of sana for the next couple of days btw (she likes them a lil possessive)

park jihyo

she can fairly cope well for the first few days but she can feel bits of her cracking when she doesn’t get your dose of cuddles

copes by also stealing your jacket but she actually steals two so she can have two styles ready that has a piece of you with her

always playing with the necklace you got for her on your 9th date with her or with the keychain on her bag that you got on a random day proclaiming that yes that sleeping bear keychain reminded you of jihyo because both her and the keychain look cute

she’s always so busy even when she gets home so she never really gets to release that want to just be alone with you

but holds you so close and so tight when both of you are sleeping to feel calm and to convey the feelings she always has for you

myoui mina

doesn’t show it to anyone, even you, that she’s abt to break bc she misses you so much

copes with buying trinkets that remind her of you so she ends up coming home from tour

half of her big suitcase is trinkets, someone stop her

you always end up sorting the trinkets and like dedicating a space in your home for it. when she comes back you both take the time to add it to the collection together

you know those apps for u to use to signal you miss your lover yeah well mina didn't take long to convince you to download it

is that another damn trinket

kim dahyun

the most sane one in twice

she always takes you out on dates back before the tour starts so she uses those memories to cope + regular calls with you despite time differences always helps

writes yearning songs all the damn time

YEARNING IN SONG WRITING!! THAT DAMN NOTEBOOK IS ALMOST FULL SHE'S ABOUT TO BUY ANOTHER

when she returns from tour, she cherishes the most domestic things with you

case and point she fell so much harder for you when you were both just doing chores, humming the songs blasting from your speakers

son chaeyoung

shut up wdym nonchalant?? no. clingy gf realness

she is OBSESSED WITH YOU there is no way this woman won't lose it when you are not with here in tour

but your work is important so she won't pull you away

though i bet you half of her wardrobe is your clothes with your perfume smothered on them

twice members complain at how much she's always missing u, yearning for u, talking about u, yapping abt u

it's the rest of twice that begs for you to come with them the next tour to shut her up

she does not shut up but you get to distract her by kissing and it always works

chou tzuyu

her? missing you? why should she miss you when she can just bring you along??????????

only member to actually think about it and put it to action the moment you both started to become official

it took so much convincing, and like you had to also be a part of staff lowk

like who is holding the cam for her vlogs?? you babes it's you

sometimes the other members also ask for your help but honestly you don't mind and tzuyu gets to film you too sometimes so like yay bonding activities

kisses backstage!!! KISSES BACKSTAGE TZUYU CHEERED

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 8 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 5.1k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), lots of cussing, mentions of food, so much violence. like so much y'all but it's Canon-typical violence, references to (quirk) supremacist views, a (somewhat) graphic depiction of mental health issues

a/n. the content of this chapter is one of the reasons why i almost didn't start this series in the first place. as it turns out, action scenes are deceptively difficult to write—i struggled at first, but i eventually got into the groove of things and found it so fun! so much shit will go down, and i hope you find yourselves at the edge of your seats while reading this <3 please, please let me know what you think and don't be a stranger! enjoy :')

links. masterlist, ao3

You shoot up at the blaring sound of the alarm clock.

You scramble to reach and turn it off where it stands on the nightstand—quickly, before it wakes Bakugou up—a sigh of relief wracking your body when you manage to do so, a sudden stillness instantly enveloping the room.

That relief doesn’t last very long, though, because you’re once again shot with panic when you look up toward the foot of the bed, only to see the man himself already standing in front of it—fully awake.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, clutching your chest, “You scared me.”

“It’s too early to be this scared, princess,” is his pointed retort, a small hint of teasing underlying his tone. You shoot him a pained smile but don’t say anything back, not finding the courage within you to admit that your hands may or may not be already shaking in anticipatory anxiety.

Instead, you watch him as he does mobility stretches in place, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth as he warms up his joints and rotates his limbs. He invites you to join him a moment after, and you do, if not in an attempt to ground yourself then in preparation for any physical combat that may ensue later on.

Not much is said between the two of you as you go on to prepare for the day, maneuvering silently within his bedroom and taking turns in the bathroom. He lets you get changed first, and you shimmy yourself in your most comfortable office clothes, finding almost immediately that describing them as ‘comfortable’ might be a stretch. Least suffocating, maybe—but the instructions were clear that you had to look the part, at least so that you could get past the guards and enter the building.

Apparently, you need to infiltrate the place organically to buy you as much time to position yourselves without raising suspicion. Mystically showing up on the premises with a man who will vanish not a moment later wouldn’t exactly be a common sight for the employees manning the CCTVs.

Well, then. You guess your long-sleeved blouse, slacks, and regrettably heeled shoes will have to do.

Not even five minutes after you step out of the restroom so he can get dressed himself, Bakugou emerges in a similarly dark, wrist-length shirt and trousers, and you’re about to comment on this unfamiliar yet…welcome sight when your eyes catch his notoriously unruly head of hair—magically pushed back, revealing his forehead.

Now, of all the things that strangely popped into your mind upon seeing him—handsome definitely wasn’t one of them—what you end up blurting is: “How the hell did you style it that fast?”

“Huh?” he responds absentmindedly, fiddling with his sleeves as he seats himself on the edge of the bed opposite from you. “Style what?”

You gesture towards his head. “Your hair. Hasn’t it always been a little hard to control?”

Folding his sleeves right up to his forearm, he then turns to face you, a borderline sheepish expression etched on his features. “’s some extra strong gel. Best Jeanist gifted it to me for my birthday.”

Ah.

“Yeah, well, it suits you,” you offer honestly, averting your gaze just as you think he is about to flash you a smirk. And before he can say anything: “I’m guessing you’re ditching the gauntlets for today?”

He nods, although he’s suddenly looking far from pleased. “No choice,” he intones, “My firepower will take a hit, but I can still get by without them.”

“Enough to kick some ass?”

A grin. “Always.”

You let Bakugou’s well-earned confidence infect you as you finish getting ready together, stuffing your respective bags with things you can let go of in case they get caught up in the fight, before finally walking out of your little sanctuary and into the living room. The twins are on you in an instant, installing your trackers on your chests where they’ve since taken residence for the past two weeks, pulling away without a single word afterward. You mutter a quick thanks, before walking toward Bakugou on the couch and asking him what he wants for breakfast.

“Something light,” is his answer. “Don’t wanna be bogged down by a heavy stomach.”

You end up getting him french toast with a protein shake—whether or not that was light for a man his size, you have no idea—while ordering a croissant and iced tea for yourself. You don’t bother asking the twins if they want to get something as well—opting to just get them breakfast sandwiches and coffee instead. You heard a stomach grumble just a few minutes ago—and it definitely wasn’t yours or Bakugou’s.

The food arrives just as quickly as it did the night prior, and you waste no time digging in. To your pleasant surprise, the twins accept the offering, albeit too begrudgingly for your taste. Maybe letting them starve was the smarter move for today’s final mission, but as you watch them scarf everything down in a matter of minutes, you decide that that’s a trade-off you’re willing to overcompensate for.

By the time you’ve finished eating and cleaning up, it’s a few minutes before 6 AM, and you resolve that as far as D-Days are concerned, the start of this one is going swimmingly well.

Right up to the moment Kouki materializes and grabs Bakugou’s wrist but not yours.

“Change of plans.”

At that, you instantly freeze just as Bakugou barks: “The fuck do you mean change of plans?”

That doesn’t seem to faze the teleporter, who instead regards the pro-hero with a stern, almost chastising look. “You’re needed in one of the schools. You’re coming with me.”

Somehow, you snap out of it. “But you said—”

“It’s a direct order,” he spews, now looking at you with such intensity that has your blood turning cold. “One that you have to follow. Unless…”

“Unless, what?” growls Bakugou.

He smiles. “Unless you want us to call off the entire operation and teleport where you can’t find us.”

Fuck.

Beside you, Bakugou must be thinking the exact same thing, because he suddenly goes quiet.

Kouki harrumphs. “That’s what I thought.”

Neither Bakugou nor you say anything else in protest after that, acutely aware of the gamble that has to be made.

It’s clear as day: either you follow the order and divide and possibly conquer, or resist and lose them altogether.

Perhaps for good.

Armed with the explosives Bakugou made himself, no less.

You chance a glance at the pro-hero, and the impassive look on his face is enough to tell you what he’s decided on.

You’re running out of time and you also need to say something, you know that. Otherwise, he’s going to think there’s something more important to the two of you than seeing the operation you’ve been devotedly ‘working on’ to fruition.

Something beyond just two lovers ensuring each other’s safety.

Forcing yourself to meet Kouki’s steely gaze, you finally relent and nod. “How’s the rest of us gonna get to our post, then?”

“I’ll come back right after I teleport him,” comes his speedy answer, seemingly satisfied with your newfound enthusiasm. “I’ll take you three to where Masaki is waiting near the Prime Minister’s Office.”

“He’s already there?” you can’t help but ask, suddenly nervous at the mention of the kingpin.

You still don’t know his quirk.

“Yes, and he mustn’t be kept waiting,” Kouki says cuttingly, before turning to regard Bakugou, whose wrist he’s still holding. “We’ve to get going.”

“Alright,” the pro-hero grits out, shrugging off the man’s hold, “Just—give me a sec.”

For a second, you think he’s going to head to the restroom to pee before the ‘mission’ starts, but then he’s stepping towards you, and you barely manage to stop yourself from tilting away when he leans into your space, immediately followed by a firm grip on your shoulders. Despite yourself, you gulp.

Bakugou lets out a long exhale. He’s not looking at you—you note—gaze directed towards the floor. You decide then and there that you don’t like seeing him like this.

Like he’s actually…scared.

“Hey,” you whisper, and he looks up, finally meeting your eyes. You almost stumble at the sheer intensity of them.

Almost.

In spite of that—and you don’t know how you do it—you manage to smile at him, as genuinely as you can.

“What are you so worried about?” you tease, voice soft enough for just him to hear. “I’ll be okay.”

To your dismay, that doesn’t make Bakugou laugh—countenance still grim—but his features do soften. So minutely, the change is almost imperceptible—but it’s there.

“How can you be so sure?” he actually whispers back.

That makes you grin, the answer already at the tip of your tongue.

“Because you don’t date losers.”

Now, at your quip, you expected him to at least smile. Maybe chuckle, if that punchline came out funnier than you intended it to.

But what you absolutely didn’t expect was for him to grab you by the neck and pull you into a kiss.

It takes you a second to realize what’s happening, body rigid in utter surprise, but you eventually relax into his hold, wrapping your arms around his torso as he deepens the kiss. A few more seconds pass by with your lips interlocked before he finally pulls away, face flushed and a little out of breath.

“Be careful,” he eventually gets out a beat later, and you nod, suddenly hyperaware of the three pairs of eyes watching you.

Kouki’s especially.

“You, too,” you call out to Bakugou as he lets go and returns to the spot beside Kouki, who once again takes his gauntlet-less wrist.

“We’ll be off, then,” the old man announces, and just like that, they’re gone.

Kouki returns—alone—in record time, an inexplicable expression written on his face. You debate whether or not to ask him how things are at Bakugou’s location, ultimately deciding against it when the man impatiently beckons you to move. You promptly approach and hold onto him just as the twins adjust their portkeys without much complaint, all the while trying to ignore the churning sensation at the pit of your stomach.

The borderline nauseating feeling doesn’t get any better as you get whisked away from Bakugou’s apartment unit in a matter of seconds, suddenly finding yourself sat as you emerge in what you think is an SUV—judging by the size of its interior. You squirm in your seat—too caught up in the discomfort of being squished between Kouki and Omiru in the back—to notice it.

But then you look up, and when you do, the churning from earlier stops and your stomach drops entirely.

From where he’s conveniently plastered in the driver’s seat, Masaki turns to fully face you, smiling.

Or at least you think he is, based solely on the upturn of his lips.

Because hiding his gaze is what seems to be hardened, high-tech goggles.

Goggles that completely block your view of his eyes.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You vaguely register Masaki thanking Kouki for bringing the three of you to him, and you think Kouki must’ve teleported away judging from the faint swell in wiggle room at your sides. But you couldn’t recall when that was exactly, and this very thought sends another shot of panic through you, the taste of bile now blooming in your throat.

You know what you have to do.

Clenching your eyes closed, you center your attention on the primary emotion you’re feeling—fear, unmistakable fear—and pull.

Instantly, you feel your facial muscles relax, cautious enough to let the change appear slowly—both in your face and in your frame.

The last thing you need is to inadvertently confirm any suspicion about your quirk.

Even if it means using a huge chunk of today’s reservoir on yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter open, and you’re once again met with the sight of Masaki, whose torso is now turned towards you.

Shit.

You scramble for something to say.

“I-isn’t it a bit too early?” you ask, averting your gaze toward the car window. “Is the Prime Minister even around at this hour?”

You don’t get to see Masaki’s reaction to your sudden question—you wouldn’t be able to study his eyes anyway—but you hear him shuffle in his seat, turning back to face forward. “Yes, he’s expecting a visitor.”

A million questions come up in your head—how he even knows that information is one of them—but what you end up asking is: “How about the rest?”

That must’ve been the right query to ask, because Masaki hums in what you think is approval. “People will be there, Y/N. When the Prime Minister’s around, most of the employees are expected to be present.”

You guess that makes sense.

You don’t say anything else after that, opting to peer at Masaki through the rearview mirror instead. To your surprise, he shifts his head towards the very same mirror, and you’re almost sure he’s looking straight back at you.

He smiles again. This time, a little too knowingly.

“Is there something—” he starts, before trailing off and pointing to his eyepiece. “Oh, this?”

You bristle. Still, you feign ignorance. “Huh?”

“You seem to have been staring at my glasses.”

You let your brows furrow, as if in confusion. “I…don’t think I was?”

“Cut the crap, Y/N,” Omiru suddenly spits at you from the side, and you startle.

“What the—”

“Now, now, Omiru,” scolds Masaki with that placating tone of his. “Y/N might’ve been lying to us but we still have a mission to finish.”

You blanch. “Lying?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” comes the leader’s quiet response, who’s watching the scene unfold behind him through the mirror. “It’s a pity our surveillance men took so long to notice, how you had us acting strangely, that day we met.”

Masaki cocks his head to the side, before: “Your quirk works via eye contact, doesn’t it?”

You stiffen.

“Thought so,” he concludes, and you bite back the urge to close your eyes in defeat. It’s too early to give up.

“Don’t worry, though,” he adds on after a beat, finally bringing the engine to life. “Nothing will happen as long as you cooperate and use luck when I tell you to.”

…Luck.

Did he just say luck?

Your eyes must’ve widened a bit at what he just said, because he continues. “Ah, Bakugou?” he asks, and suddenly you’re hit with the guilt of not thinking about the pro-hero.

Especially when he says the next thing.

“Like I said,” Masaki drawls, “As long as you cooperate, no one gets harmed.”

A pause.

“Even him.”

Your question gets answered as soon as you stop at the guard house.

Masaki’s quick to take off the goggles before rolling down his window, greeting the primary security guard with such innocence you definitely couldn’t have guessed he was on his way to an assassination if you based on just the encounter alone.

The guard flashes him an easy grin as he greets back, before bringing the walkie-talkie that’s velcroed on his shoulder closer to his mouth. “Masaki Kento of the Korean Consulate, heading towards Building C. I repeat, Masaki Kento to Building C.”

A bunch of static emanates from the device, immediately followed by a robotic voice. “Copy that. Let him in.”

At that, Masaki salutes him a thanks, which the guard returns fervently. You don’t even get to catch a glimpse of the former’s eyes before he’s got the window up and the eyepiece swiftly back on his face.

“Let me guess,” you pipe up as Masaki rounds a curb and drives more slowly as you enter the grounds, “You’re a consul and these two are your domestic bodyguards.”

“Yes,” Masaki readily confirms, “That is correct.”

That explains why he’s almost never present in the headquarters.

“Huh,” is the only thing you can muster, focus now trained on any human that you pass by.

The less they are in number, the better—is what Bakugou said. So far, most if not all of them are decked out in attire guards would normally wear, which you think isn’t much of an unfamiliar sight in this estate.

Eventually, you arrive at the front of what you believe is Building C, stepping out of the vehicle with your handbag in tow a moment later, smoothing the crinkled lines of your slacks. You pretend not to pay attention as an again bare-faced Masaki hands over the keys to the valet, who is off with the vehicle in seconds to what he said was the multi-story car park.

You don’t dare utter a word as you trail behind the man carrying a bulky briefcase you’re positive contains nothing but bombs, with the twins walking in step behind you. You keep your eyes fixed on the staircase as you do, painfully aware of how your nerves are coming back alive, and this time, somewhat more fiercely than before.

You know better than to waste another ounce of your quirk on yourself, though.

And so with ragged breath, you trudge on with anxiety creeping back up your spine, up until you’re met with another guard at the entrance, who makes a quick work of identifying the four of you. You’re introduced as Masaki’s new personal assistant, while the others just reiterate their established titles. The guard then grants you entry, but not before instructing you to register your name at the reception desk.

Masaki thanks the man on your behalf, and then finally—you enter.

The second that you do, though, you can tell something’s wrong.

For one, right behind the desk that you were ordered to approach, was nobody. Not one receptionist.

Nor are there janitors, guests, employees, or anyone that could possibly be in the Prime Minister’s Office at this hour.

Masaki, who just put on the goggles again, must have thought the same thing, because you catch him physically tensing, like this wasn’t part of the plan.

You’re about to ask him—genuinely—why the place seems to be deserted, when it happens.

Something fast lurches from the shadows in your peripheral vision, and you stumble back just in time to see Hiroto slammed to the ground by no other than Kirishima.

The male twin lets out a yelp in pain as the hardened hero wrestles him in his grip, all at the same time as a long string of tape suddenly fills your vision. You look up, and sure enough, there’s Sero swinging right into Omiru foot first, hitting the woman square in the jaw. She staggers violently backward, right into you—but the collision doesn’t happen, because a hand grabs your wrist out of nowhere and you’re pulled to the side.

A tidal wave of relief washes over you as you let yourself get forcefully dragged, but it’s instantly replaced with terror when you look up to see Masaki’s backside instead. From a distance, you hear Kirishima’s voice call out your name, and it snaps you out of your fear-driven trance. Renewed with unbridled strength, you put as much of your weight as you can on your soles and try to wrangle your hand out of his grip, but it’s too strong.

Masaki manages to haul you toward the end of the hallway, throwing you right into an elevator and punching the close button before you can pick yourself back up on your feet. You barely see him pressing the top-most floor before he turns around and grabs you by the shoulders, pinning you hard against the wall.

“You told them about us, didn’t you,” he seethes, manic, but you don’t dare say anything. At your silence, he lifts you a breadth’s hair away from the surface only to slam you back against it. You can’t help it—this time, you cry, a sharp pain sent straight to your back.

“Answer me,” he demands, and you’re just about to knee him in the balls when the elevator dings. You wait for Masaki to get distracted and look away so you can deliver the blow, but it doesn’t happen. His gaze seemingly remains fixed on yours even as he lugs the two of you out of the box, grip unrelenting as he approaches the nearest fire alarm device, smashing the glass before pulling down the lever.

Almost instantaneously, tens of alarms ring out not just on your floor but on the ones below you, and you can only watch in horror as the numbers on top of the elevators freeze.

“Kouki,” Masaki rasps into his earpiece, his two hands busy holding you at arm’s length. “Kouki, do you copy?”

You growl, a surge of indignation washing over your entire body at him blatantly ignoring you. You extend your leg from underneath in an attempt to trip and then pin him down, but he takes notice in the nick of time and staves off your attack.

“Kouki,” he tries again, even as you manage to ram a punch into his stomach, “Answer me!”

You grit your teeth, feeling your limbs quaking as you fight to fend off his grip. Still, your mind wanders as to why he’s calling Kouki now, of all times.

What, so he can teleport him and the twins out of here?

But then he speaks again, and you see crimson red.

“Kouki, kill him now!”

Your body moves before your brain can think—you throw yourself onto Masaki and grab him by the neck. He stumbles backward until he collapses and his back hits the floor, and you take that as an opportunity to immediately straddle him, increasing the pressure on your chokehold. He splutters for a bit, arms flailing and scratching at you, but before you can even think about trying to rip off his eyepiece and potentially taking the upper hand—at least until Kirishima and the rest arrive—he rolls over and has got you pinned under his weight in seconds. He pulls the same move and roughly wraps his hands around your neck, instantly cutting off the air to your lungs. You wheeze, and yet you still struggle even as you feel the last bits of oxygen die out.

He grins at you, and one look at the man’s face tells you he’s gone mad. “You’re on the wrong side of history, Y/N.”

Great, you think to yourself. Those can’t be the last fucking words you hear before you die.

You make one last attempt at seizing his wrist off of you, but—just like many other things in the past five minutes—that doesn’t get to happen, because something flashes in the corner of your eye—so quickly you think you must’ve imagined it. You squint, and in hindsight maybe you shouldn’t have, because, in the second that you do, Masaki is kicked off of your body and slammed straight into the far wall.

Shellshocked, you crawl backward with your forearms as fast as you can, not knowing what the fuck just happened.

But that’s when you see him.

You can only watch in disbelief as Bakugou propels himself across the room in a matter of a millisecond, towering over Masaki’s body instantaneously. “Get back!” Bakugou shouts, and it takes you a beat to realize that he’s talking to you.

You didn’t need to be told twice.

With the little, remaining strength you can muster, you manage to stand back up and hobble towards the corner of the room, farthest from where the two are currently engaging in a fistfight.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that Masaki’s holding up better than you expected him to, and the very same realization must’ve dawned on Bakugou, because the pro-hero swiftly switches gears and starts detonating small explosions toward the man’s direction.

But then the weirdest thing happens.

Instead of being hit by Bakugou’s blasts, Masaki absorbs them—right where the combustions meet his body—

And then, in the blink of an eye, releases it—almost twice in size—straight into Bakugou.

You hear the pro-hero curse just as he barely manages to dodge the hit. The discharge reaches the wall, leaving scorched marks and massive craters on the surface.

This is bad.

And you don’t even have to look at Bakugou to know that.

Still, the pro-hero presses on, and you stand there—restless—as the fight resumes in front of you. Bakugou’s stopped using his quirk to attack altogether, only using it to expertly maneuver himself in the air. Masaki’s fending off the strikes well enough, even landing a few hits here and there. You try to hold eye contact with him—but it’s no use. He’s still wearing the goggles, and you’ve studied them long enough this morning to be fairly sure that it’ll take more than just a perfect kick to the head to have it taken off.

That’s when it dawns on you.

You can’t manipulate Masaki. That’s for sure.

But you can manipulate Bakugou, who—based on what you can see—is becoming more and more frantic by the minute.

No fucking time to hesitate.

“Bakugou!” you shout, and the man doesn’t even glance in your direction, only shouting back: “What?!”

“Look at me!” you yell, pupils darting in record speed as you follow Bakugou’s volatile line of vision. You weren’t about to miss him when he does.

He doesn’t question your request, but he doesn’t immediately look at you either, too wrapped up in hitting Masaki and not getting hit back.

But then Masaki’s suddenly got him pinned against the wall across you, and you find yourself immediately face to face with him. You scream, “Now!”

Exactly right on cue, Bakugou’s gaze drifts from Masaki’s face to yours, and when you lock eyes, you pull.

Manic adrenaline to laser-sharp acuity.

Acuity that he’s always had since you met him in high school.

As hard as you fucking can—and with all that you have left—you pull.

And just like that, Bakugou’s entire countenance changes. You can only watch as the metaphorical gears in his head seem to come alive and shift—just as he throws Masaki off of him with unmatched force.

But then he does the unimaginable.

He starts bombarding the man with explosions—one blast after another, not allowing him the chance to even sit up and shield himself—and you stare in outright shock as Masaki’s body glows redder and redder.

Just as you think Bakugou’s completely lost his mind with the series of attacks, he launches himself from the wall and dives into Masaki, grabbing the man’s arm, tugging him to the nearest door with one hand and yanking the slab of wood open with the other.

And only as Bakugou throws Masaki into what you think is a janitor’s closet and locks the door behind him does it hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Come on!” Bakugo shouts at you as he presses his entire weight against the door—the door that Masaki’s desperately trying to get through. “Help me lock him in!”

You look around the room for something you can use, your eyes immediately landing on a chair and a moderately-heavy-looking desk. You waste no time grabbing the two pieces of furniture and hauling them toward Bakugou as fast as you can. Taking the chair first, you tilt it by the backrest and lodge it underneath the doorknob until it’s secure enough. You then hurriedly drag the desk to the other side and slide it in front of the door, just as Bakugou propels himself upward and out of the way.

You don’t get to do anything else before Bakugou snatches you by your waist and boosts the two of you toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, smashing against them shoulder-first. You hold onto him for dear life, wincing at the impact even though Bakugou took most of it.

And you’re glad you did everything the way you just did—because not even a second later, the explosion finally goes off—an eruption so massive that you’re both thrown forward from the sheer magnitude alone, the sound of shattering windows and crumbling walls booming in the background. Bakugou loses his balance for a second and you shriek, but he manages to get back into thrusting you into the air with his detonations, carrying you securely in his arms until you reach the ground, gently letting go of you when you do.

The moment your toes touch the concrete floor, though, you’re quick to jump on your feet and hobble away from him.

“Hey—”

Quickly, you tell yourself as you feel the tell-tale pinpricks of tears at the corners of your eyes. Before it’s too late.

But you don’t get to go far enough because Bakugou grabs your wrist, spinning you to look at him. “The fuck do you think you’re go—”

He cuts himself off, the scowl that was just carved on his features instantly falling when he sees your face. “Are you—crying?”

“N-no,” you choke out, although you know it’s no use denying it. You’re already feeling the all-too-familiar closing-in sensation that comes with you overextending yourself.

“Yes, you are, dumbass,” Bakugou retorts, before bringing up his other hand to lightly touch your cheek. “Tell me, what’s wrong?”

At the contact, you clench your eyes closed, fighting down the urge to whimper at the steadily increasing pace at which your heart is irregularly racing.

There’s no doubt about it.

It’s now flooding you—the terror that you’ve secretly been tamping down with your own quirk this entire mission—but especially today.

“Fuck—” you warble, and now you’re sure.

You’re having an anxiety attack.

It all happens in a blur—your brain too muddled with palpable fear to keep track of everything around you—but you vaguely register Bakugou wrapping his arms around you and rubbing soothing circles on your back, as he tried to guide your erratic breathing with his.

You remember shaking violently in his hold, gasping for air and barely managing to will yourself to breathe normally as an undercurrent of dizziness coursed through your veins.

You recall sweating bullets but being cold to the touch, and Bakugou ripping out one of his sleeves to use to wipe away your perspiration. It didn’t really help.

And you don’t know how much time passes with you fighting the nausea on top of everything, even as you heard the distant sound of police sirens, but it does—it somehow does—eventually and strangely finding yourself carried away home.

Home to Bakugou’s.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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[truelovepolinator]

Quick note on the Hugo Boss thing…

I only have a minute right now and don’t have time to go deep, but want to share the sentiment I just posted in GC.

I just want to say, all of the reasons why Nicola would lie in the interview that dropped the other day are all the same reasons Luke could show up at an event (looking miserable) with A. In the same week as the drop.

It feels very coordinated. Like, they clearly made a decision that it was time to shut it down. Two definitive “statements” in one week (after all this time) is too much of a coincidence to actually be coincidence.

The thing we don’t know is WHY. It’s entirely possible that it’s true and we’ve all been wrong. It’s also possible that they’re both doing what they need to do right now to protect themselves and help her campaign, etc.

I don’t want to be delusional about this and I know it looks bad. I’ve always said I’d be honest and I’m doing that. But also, it does seem coordinated, so it’s very possible this is just more PR fakery.

Let’s give it time and not spiral. Even if what they’ve said in their various ways this week proves true, remember this is an endgame ship. We can still love them. It’s okay to sad about this week, but if you’re spiraling right now, hold onto that. ❤️

[melosliving]

hi! I was wondering if you could write a story about aaron and reader are arguing because reader is jealous about him having to kiss a girl in a movie he was doing and he had to prove to them that he loves them and only them. please and thank you

Let me cook !! I hope you’ll like ! (I felt free to add smut to it because why notttt)

aaron pierre x actress!reader

Warnings : +18 (MDNI), nasty smutty, established relationship, jealousy, cranky reader

It’s been a long day for both of you. The set was chaotic, the director demanding, and the long hours had made you cranky. But what truly sent your heart spiraling was the news you’d just heard.

Your man had to kiss another woman for a scene in his movie. You hadn’t meant to overhear the conversation, but as you stood in the doorway of his trailer, the words hit you like a ton of bricks. Your stomach twisted, your chest tightened. You knew it was part of his job, but that didn’t stop the jealousy that clawed at you, irrational but raw.

Now, sitting in his car, you can barely look at him. The tension between you two is palpable, and the silence is thick, uncomfortable.

Aaron looks over at you, his jaw clenched, but his eyes soft. “Baby, talk to me. I don’t like when you’re like this.”

You scoff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, staring out the window. “Like what?”

He takes a breath, turning fully towards you now. “You’re upset. I can tell. I don’t know why, but I can feel it.” You huff, shaking your head, but you can’t hide the hurt in your voice. “I just… I don’t get why you had to kiss her. I know it’s your job, but—”

His hands fly up in frustration, but not in anger. It’s more like he’s frustrated at himself for making you feel this way. “No, listen to me, okay? That kiss meant nothing. Nothing at all.”

“I know it was just acting,” you say, voice small. “But still… You kissed her. I don’t know if my weak ass can handle that."

He reaches over and gently places his hand on your knee, his touch warm and grounding. “Baby, I’ve been kissing you for years. There’s only one person who has my heart, and that’s you. No matter what’s in the script, no matter what I have to do on set, you’re the one I’m coming home to.”

You glance at him, searching his face, looking for any sign of insincerity. But all you see is love. His eyes are soft, pleading, and filled with everything you need to hear.

“And I’m sorry I made you feel this way,” he continues, his voice low. “You mean everything to me. I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t want anyone else.”

Tears start to sting your eyes as his words hit you. Slowly, you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I’m sorry, too papa,” you whisper, gently playing with his fingers. “I didn’t mean to be jealous like this. I just… I love you so much. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching you like I do.”

Aaron leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “And you never will. Because no matter what, it’s you and me. Always.”

Now, as the rest of the trip was quiet, the only audible sound being the radio, you thought things had calmed down between you. How wrong you were. You didn’t even the time to step out of your shoes that aaron took you to y’all’s bedroom.

"Aaron- what are you doing ?" You asked, following him as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.

The tension between y’all thickened, and even if the only source of light in the room was the sunset’s, you could still see aaron slightly tightening his jaw as he looked down at you.

It was like he was actually realizing just how deeply all of this was affecting you. He pulled you closer to his, brushing his lips against your ear. " I’m sorry you felt that way. I need to show you you’re the only one who can have me.”

He never actually felt like this, never been the object of one’s jealousy. But this was nice —apart from the part where it makes you upset– it made him feel even more connected to you.

That’s how he now had you wrapped in his body, almost in his skin. His dick was buried in you so deep, but his fingers were so delicate on your skin, his kisses so gentle. "Papa is so sorry for making you jealous baby, will you forgive him ?" He asks as he fucked himself into your sweet pussy. You felt so good around him, your hips grinding to try to meet his.

"haa– fuck !"

"C’mon tell me bub. You forgive me ?" He asks again, lips against your shoulder. You whine softly, trying to push back against him.

"Yeah baby, you’re forgiven- mh !" You whine. Aaron chuckles a bit before his hands grasp your hips to hold you steady. With one firm thrust, he is breaching your folds and sliding deep inside you. your head dropping to the pillow below you as you whimper through the burn. The stretch burns more then you anticipated, and you hear him groaning softly, which sends another wave of liquid heat rushing through you.

"God you feel so good baby, you take my cock so fucking well." He praises you, gently pulling out to slowly thrust back in. His eyes are locked on the place where you two connect, watching with hooded eyes as his cock disappears inside you.

"Oh my— why are you fucking me like this ?..feels so good.."

"I wish you could see this baby." He praises again through a soft moan, and you drink up every sound he makes. "I’m yours baby, take your dick."

You needed this so bad and you actually loved the fact that you were the only one who could give him this type of relief.

Yours yours yours yours yours. he was yours.

Your forehead presses against the bed, muffled and strangled cries escaping your lips every time aaron hits deep inside you. His cock stretches you perfectly, and always hits places deep inside you. Places you didn't know existed. Soon you feel your orgasm creeping up on you, almost making you feel lightheaded.

"Please make your pussy cum papa, im so close." You beg, muffling your moans with your palm as he drives his cock into you. You feel sweat covering your entire body and aaron holds your hips with a bruising force. You feel that coil winding tighter and tighter, and you release a high pitched whine when his hand actually snakes around your body to thumb your clit.

"Papa this dick feels so good, soo good baby. Always feels so good, fuck baby I love you," You're not sure what you're saying at this point, an incoherent mess of praises for the man above you. "Nah, this is your dick baby, say it."

"My dick—It’s mine, mine, mine." You repeat mindlessly, pleasure taking over you. "shit, I love you too baby." He answers.

Aaron loved when he could reduce you to incoherent words and disconnected statements because of him. slamming his cock inside you and rolling your clit before you're squeezing around him tightly, your mouth falls open in a silent scream. You cum in hot gushes around him and he can only offer a few more sloppy thrusts before he's cumming with a loud growl, coating your walls in his hot cum.

chest heaving from the exertion, aaron feels more relaxed than he has all day. There's a small smile on your face and your eyes are closed as your legs finally give out and you collapse against the sheets.

"Are you okay bub ?" You hear, and you can't help but smile when you hear that he's panting slightly. You hum with a smile on your face. "I’m sorry i got cranky over this, I love you."

"That’s okay mama. I understand you, but I want you to know I’m yours, only yours."

@ melosliving 2025

[bomber-grl]

Kusuo Saiki Dating Headcanons

Pairing(s): Kusuo Saiki x Gn!Reader

It takes a really long time to get to the point where the two of you are dating. Like 100,000,000 words, slow burn, they finally kiss at the end– sort of fanfic. Honestly, I think Saiki’s a bit hesitant about relationships in general because they seem like a hassle. Everyone else is on thin ice already, the thought of putting effort into a relationship is exhausting enough.

Like with everyone else, he’s pretty indifferent toward you at first, and you only move up to "mild annoyance" status if you stick around long enough. Especially since he’s probably hearing all your thoughts, so there’s that.

Now, onto the actual headcanons. Saiki isn’t exactly the affectionate type. You two probably started as friends, mostly with you bothering him. Even after he realizes he likes you (though he really tries to hide it), nothing changes much. The difference is, you’re the only person he seems to tolerate. Everyone else wonders why you even bother with him.

Sometimes, Saiki gets... freaked out? There’s really no other way to put it. He’s used to being around people who are idiots, so when someone like you comes along—someone who’s rather perceptive—that’s a bit much for him. It messes with his head. Despite being able to hear your every thought, he starts wondering if you’re psychic too.

You can tell what he’s feeling, what he wants, and even do things for him. Sure, he could do all those things tenfold in just under a minute, but for some reason, he finds himself smiling. He even starts thinking fondly of you.

If you were another Nendou, though? He’d probably avoid you, and your relationship would be a slow burn that takes another 100,000,000 words and even worse edging (Not like that). But I digress. Saiki shows affection in subtle ways. Like remembering offhand comments you’ve made about your favorite snack or color.

He’s the type of guy who’ll subtly push your chair out of the way when you’re about to trip or pick up a dropped pen without you asking. He might not say much, but he’ll do whatever he can to make your life a little easier, even if he doesn’t directly tell you that.

I know it might sound like I’m painting him as a deadbeat bf, but honestly? He’d probably be a great boyfriend. He can literally hear your thoughts. He knows what you want, even before you say it. He’s seen (and heard) men ruin their relationships because they thought they knew their partner. So, when you want to grab a treat or have been wanting something that relates to an interest, he’ll know.

He’ll also know (and hear) if you slightly even think he’s good looking on a particular day. He’ll never admit it, of course, but if you get embarrassed thinking about it (since you know he can hear your thoughts), he secretly enjoys that. Seeing you flustered is one of his guilty pleasures—even though he’d never show it.

And yeah, Saiki’s protective. He won’t say it, and he won’t make a big show of it like other people would, but he does care. If something’s bothering you, he’ll subtly step in. Like if someone’s making you uncomfortable, he’ll use his telekinesis to, throw something at them or trip them up—whatever works, as long as no one knows it was him.

He doesn’t like people messing with you, and he won’t hesitate to shut them down, even if he keeps it minimal to avoid drawing attention to himself.

In this following scenario you're another Nendou. He hardly ever gets surprised. I mean, hearing everyone’s thoughts kind of ruins surprises, spoilers for a new tv show, honestly anything for him. But maybe—just maybe—the only way to startle or fluster him is by turning the tables on that. Maybe it’s the first time you show affection in your relationship.

Saiki’s not big on physical touch– we all know that much. If you want to hug him, go ahead, but he’ll probably just stand there like a statue. So, let’s say you somehow convince him to come over to your place, and then you, attempted subtly, suggest that you kiss him out of nowhere.

He’d choke on his drink and immediately try to cover it up. Forget not hearing your thoughts, he literally didn’t think you’d want to kiss him anytime soon. He won’t show it (obviously) but deep down, he’s definitely a little shaken.

Now, in the chance that you two do kiss, (which is chapters later– in fanfiction terms) he’s very hesitant? Like sure, he can destroy the entire Earth if he even wanted to but the idea is still startling. He thinks it over and once he agrees (which is the only kiss you’ll get until the next blue moon) he is admittedly worried.

He’s never kissed anyone, he never planned to so he tries to be collected like he always is. If a satellite suddenly went offline somewhere in space, well that’s nothing to do with him.

Also, an extra that isn’t a dating hc is that Saikis mom and dad love you so much, his dad literally asked if you were actually real which earned a side eye from Saiki. It does get annoying for Saiki, but he’s pretty glad you all get along.