#like if there was a crossing right in our neighborhood it would take me directly to where i need to go

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 43

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Fen and the others - except Stormy - looked blankly at the former Empress.

She raises her eyebrow and puts her hands down. "Come on, really? I thought it was a good reveal." Helen pouts a tiny bit and takes another sip of her coffee.

"I'm surprised." Stormy counters. She looks pointedly at the closed conference room door. "Are we going to survive this encounter?"

"Why wouldn't you? It's not like I'm going to space you all."

"You have to admit, you might have gained that reputation."

Helen rolls her eyes. "Okay, maybe back in the beginning before I became Empress and before I went to Melody I had a reputation of being a little... intense. And Maybe after Melody's death I fell back into that way of thinking while I was getting Sol under my thumb and maybe I was directly or indirectly responsible for some deaths." She shrugs. "Show me a ruler that wasn't."

Fen sat forward. "But, why are you out here? Why aren't you on a resort over Venus partying all day long?"

Helen waves her hand dismissively, and reaches for the carafe of coffee and pours more into her mug. "Boring. Dull. I don't work that way, never have. If I'm not doing something I find something to do, and my daughter didn't want to deal with that, so she let me take an officer's commission again. Everyone here calls me Admiral and just between you and me, I think like half the kids on this boat don't even realize who I am." She takes another sip of coffee and smiles. "I like it just fine like that." She gestures to the window in the conference room. "This is where I am meant to be. Not on some throne, ordering people around, and not sitting on a chair by a pool slowly becoming one with the fruit flavored drinks."

Northern crosses her arms. "So you're telling me it's purely coincidence that you and your ship find us as we link into a random system where the Heap is and without radio contact you link next to us and grapple us aboard? Just 'in the neighborhood'?"

"No of course not. We were going to pick you up one way or the other, it was only a matter of time" Helen takes another sip of coffee.

"Is this about the current Empress? We don't know where she is. We left before they decided where they were going to go." Zhe says. She can't drink coffee, but it still toying with an empty mug.

"No, it's not about my great-granddaughter. I know she's off galavanting with the remnants of the AIs, probably trying to move against the Nanites."

"How do you know that?" Fen asks.

Helen taps the side of her head. "The Nanites told me. Unlike my daughters and granddaughters, I do what the Nanites ask. They still speak to me. They have never asked me to do anything I wasn't comfortable doing, never asked me to do something that wasn't right."

While Helen says this, Stormy's face radiates rage. Fen notices her, and it looks like she's working very hard to control her self. "So you were okay with the AI purge a few centuries ago?"

Helen turns and regards Stormy coolly. "Two things. One, That wasn't me, that was Meredith's mother. Two if I was asked to do that, then I would. If you recall your history, you would remember that I banned AIs from operating in Sol. I left it at that. I didn't go after them, I didn't persecute them, I felt no ill will towards them. I have to admit, that it was a little tougher getting around the galaxy without them, but we managed."

Fen has been eyeing the carafe of coffee this whole time. Finally she reaches over and Helen slides it to her. She fills up her mug. "So why did you capture us then? Because the Nanites told you to?"

She nods. "Basically. They said "The clone of Melody is important. We still need her. We last saw her outside of Picaresque." So I went. Then you avoided our attacks - nice work by the way - and linked away."

"But how did you find out we went here?"

Helen puts her mug down and leans towards Fen. "Because we can track wormhole links Fen. It takes a lot of energy and computation and I'll admit it's relatively new technology, but it's doable. More than three or four links in quick succession is tricky, but even that isn't impossible." She leans back and looks at Fen. Her expression softens slightly. "Fen, you're not getting out of this that easily. This is much bigger than you realize. Things were set in motion back when I was Empress. You can get up and walk out of this room, I won't stop you. You and your friends can link away to anywhere in the galaxy. Sooner or later, someone tangentially related to the Nanites is going to find you and rope you in. You can't stop this."

Fen sat in her chair, stunned. She stared ahead, eyes unfocused as she heard Helen's words. It would explain a lot. How no matter how often she tried to get away, things would coincidentally rope her back in. She hung her head.

"What do I do?" She whispered. Tears fell from her cheeks and splashed onto the conference table.

"Fen, you're missing it. When you're Empress you can do whatever you want."

She looks up, her eyes red rimmed, her cheeks wet. "What do you mean?"

"Fen, when you're Empress? Everyone will do what you say. Everyone. Want to go kill what's his name - that gangster that killed your wife - Tam'itarr?" Helen laughs.

She nodded.

Helen snaps her fingers. "Just like that, not only is he gone, but his entire familial line is gone. His memory is erased. Do you want to open up a dialog with the AI? Do it. Nobody will stop you. Nobody can stop you. Voice aside, you'll be Empress of Sol and her Protectorates. You'll have fleets at your command. You could crust the K'laxi, or the Xenni, or the Gren, or any of them." She forms her hand into a fist.

"Just like that?"

"Quite. You'd be the richest human alive. Do you want to be plastered on every screen in the Galaxy? On all the chat shows, on all the casts? You can. Do you want none of that, and just live a quiet life in the Palace, never having to lift a finger for your own self? You can. Do you want to decide the fate of trillions? You can. Do you want to delegate that decision to someone else that you can conveniently 'get rid of' when the people turn against the decision? You. Can."

Helen is on a roll now. Not even checking to see if anyone else is paying attention, she stands and starts pacing the conference room.

"The problem Fen, is your upbringing. You were raised on a Gren station, far away from Colonial space, far away from human culture. You were raised by K'laxi. You were far from your birthright. On the Gren station you had to keep your head down, think fast, avoid conflict. You did these things to survive, and what did it get you? It got your wife murdered. It got you set adrift by Gord. It got you with a ragtag bunch of friends who - yes - will stick with you through it all, but you keep having to go through it." She stopped and stared at Fen, her eyebrows raised, and her eyes bright.

"What if you didn't have to go through it?"

Fen looked at her friends. They were staring at her, except for Stormy who was watching Helen like a mouse watches a cat. Anything. She could do anything.

"It wouldn't be me doing those things though, it would be the Nanites." Fen slumps in her chair.

"No!" Helen pounds the table with her fist, and they all jump. "You know better than that Fen. You've had Nanites. You are you. They're... more like an advisor. They offer suggestions, hints, recommendations. They can't stop you if you don't take them." Helen's face softens. "Fen, I've had them for almost five hundred years. Do you know what they want? They want more gates to be built. That's how they reach into our dimension. If you built Gates, you will rule the Galaxy, and they will help you."

Helen stopped pacing and sat back into her chair. She reached for her coffee cup and Fen noticed her hand was shaking slightly. "Melody had them too. She started from nothing, and was ruler of Sol before she was killed. She was going to do so much to help everyone. That's all she ever wanted. To help. They never changed her into someone, something she wasn't." She shook her head and tossed back the coffee.

"Why me though?"

"Really Fen?" Helen sighed. "You already know you're a clone of Melody. You've met my great granddaughter; If it's not at the bottom of a wine bottle, she's not interested in it. We're stagnating. We haven't built a new Gate in a century. The Nanites grow impatient. Take your rightful place, build the Gates. All will follow that."

Helen stood up and walked to the window in the conference room. She stared out into space. Without turning back she said. "I'm sorry. I've been ranting. It's been a while since I was so animated about something, it feels good." She turned. "Take the night, sleep on it. You and your friends are welcome to rooms on my Ship, or you can go sleep in your frigate."

She strode to the door, and it opened for her. "I'll see you in the morning." The door hissed closed behind her.

Fen stared at her empty coffee cup. When did she finish it? How many did she drink? She looks up at Northern and Stormy. Northern makes a face like she ate something she didn't like, and Stormy's face is blank.

Zhe looks at Fen and smiles brightly. "If you rule the Galaxy, can I have a job?"

A giggle escapes Fen's lips. She smirks. Eventually she collapses into laughter. After a few seconds, the laughter turns to sobs. She lays her head onto the conference room table and gulps air in huge wracking sobs.

Northern stands up and walks over to Fen. She sits next to her and puts her hands out, then stops, then puts them out, then pats Fen's back awkwardly. Fen looks up at her, and Northern swears. "Fuck," and hugs Fen tightly. "Whatever you pick Fen, we're here for you."

"But you and Stormy are AIs" Fen says, muffled under Northern.

"And like the old Empress said, you can do whatever you want." She released the hug. Fen sniffed. "Make it so we're not frightened to be anywhere with the Empire's Hegemony, and I guarantee the AIs will be friendly."

"Ahhhh" Stormy raises a finger. "Best not make promises you can't keep, Northern. It will probably take more than a Nice Empress to undo centuries of persecution."

"We'll figure something out."

Fen stands up. She feels suddenly weary, and the weight of these decisions on her shoulders. "Let's go back to the ship. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry, and tired."

[yutav4mp]

I'm Just Better.

pairings: Jealous!Yuta x Female!Reader

genre: smut !!

warnings: unprotected sex, cheating reader, dirty talk, jealousy and slight obession!@

wc: 3021

note: First fanfic I've ever written so there might BE a few errors here and there, this is also a reupload from my old account bc I deleted it 😅

Songs I rec to listen 2 while reading: 'Girlfriend' By HeavyWeight , 'Is There Someone Else?' and 'What You Need' By The Weeknd . .

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You walked up to the door of your boyfriend, Mark and his roommate Yuta's apartment door after countless of unanswered texts and phone calls towards mark. You started knocking and got no response for 2 minutes straight. You think to yourself "Is he Ignoring me?" you try to shake off the thought because he would never. Mark would never ignore you without a reason, even with a reason you guys would talk things out so why? You turn around and decide to just leave and wait to come back tomorrow but suddenly the door opens. You turn around and see Yuta who looks freshly out the shower with his somewhat long brown hair dripping wet and wearing nothing, but a towel wrapped around his waist. You look him up and down stopping to stare at his exposed v-line and butterfly tattoo on the side of his stomach only for a second then quickly shooting your eyes back up. He looks at you and gives you a slight smile and says, "Oh y/n what are you doing here, it's a bit late don't you think?" You return his smile awkwardly and say "Oh I was looking for Mark... I've been calling him nonstop, and he hasn't responded so I was worried." He raises his eyebrows and nods "Hm one second" he turns back to walk into the apartment, and you cross your arms and wonder what he's doing. He then comes back a few seconds later with Marks phone in his hand and he's waving it in the air "He went out with some of our friends for drinks and left his phone, he left quite a while ago though and hasn't tried to contact me through any of our other friends so..." You sigh in relief "Oh so he's not ignoring me, that's a relief." You notice Yuta turning his head and rolls his eyes "hm? What was that?" He turns back to you "Oh you saw that? Don't worry it's nothing" weird.. you think to yourself. "Well, I should head back now... it's pretty late. Tell Mark to text me when he gets home." You say to him and turn to leave but he gently grabs your arm, and you turn back a bit confused. God.. look at his arms you think to yourself, and you can't help but to stare at his arms and wander your eyes over his bare chest then quickly snap back out of it, he's your boyfriends best friend. "Ah.. y/n don't leave. I mean ... this neighborhood is too dangerous at this time of night." You check your phone to see that it's already 10:30pm and Yuta was right. Mark would never let you leave late at night whenever you would come over. "Well.. I guess you're right.. I'll come in and wait for Mark to get back." Yuta grits his teeth, you hear him mumble under his breath a bit "Hm what was that?" you asked. He answered "Nothing come on in."

He steps aside from the door frame allowing you to walk in; you step in and look around the small but nice apartment. There is a small kitchen to the left and to the right a living room with a simple black couch, desk, and tv stand. The apartment is still a bit empty because they just moved in recently. And directly a head of you was two doors face to face one being marks room and the other being Yuta's. After a few seconds you hear the door shut and lock and Yuta heads toward the fridge "You want some beer? I'd offer you soju since that's what you like but we ran out." You answer him "I'll just take a beer thank you" You give him a nice smile and turn to sit on the couch as he walks toward you with two cans of beer, he hands you a can then opens his and chugs it then crushes it tossing it into the trash can beside him. You open the can and cup your hands around it is taking small sips. You look up and notice Yuta still in his towel with his now damp hair over his face. "Ah where are my manners, sorry y/n not trying to flash you or anything." You let out a small laugh and say, "No it's fine don't worry." At this point you were used to seeing Yuta in only a towel as he walked around the house like that whenever you came over the few times in the past. Yuta heads into his room after a few minutes came out in a black and very tight tank top on with grey sweats. At this point you have already finished your beer, he walked towards you and sat next to you on the couch leaning back and getting comfortable. "Hmm, so.. what to talk about?" he turns to you and says. "Well, I'm not sure.." This is your first time being alone with your boyfriends roommate in their apartment. You can't help but stare at his features when he's not looking, he has a feminine yet masculine vibe to him . You could point out a lot of things you liked about his face .. his nose and lips.. you hover your eyes over his face for a few seconds then snaps back when you realize he's looking you dead in your eyes now. "Oh? Well y/n what do we have here? Are you drooling over your boyfriends best friend?" He smirks and says in a teasingly way. "What?! I was NOT drooling." He gives you a smirk "If you weren't drooling what's that trail of drool dripping from your lips?" You bring your hand up to your mouth and wipe it realizing there is no drool and smack him on his shoulder. "Do not tease me. You just had something on your face that's all." He lets out a laugh "Of course you weren't staring, no way you would ever look at any man other than your 'perfect' little boyfriend" You nod your head "You're right. So enough with this alright?" Although you were secretly enjoying this you can't play around with your boyfriend's friend like this.

"He crosses his arms and sighs "But you know y/n... it really is a shame." You raise your eyebrow "What do you mean?" He looks at you "You know what I mean y/n.. you're always talking about Mark, only ever worried about him and never paying attention to the things around you.." he pauses and then just stops talking "What? He's my boyfriend of course. You're his best friend so I don't understand what you're saying and why you're getting all worked up over it." Yuta bites on the inside of his cheek rolls his eyes and looks at you "Enough with this y/n you know that I know how you look at me. I see you whenever you're on the couch cuddling up on him. I see the way you look at me. Even earlier don't act as if I didn't catch you staring at my body." You were taken a back from the sudden change in attitude in him. In all honesty you Mark, and Yuta have all been friends since sophomore year in college and you remember how one night out for drinks with them Yuta drunkenly blurted out how he was in love with you. Obviously, you wouldn't have taken this seriously because, well he was drunk. You think to yourself could he have been being serious? Even if why would I think about that now and why would he even still have feelings for me if he did.. that was 2 years ago. But you can't deny that you have stared at him. I mean who wouldn't? Anyone would stare at a man as beautiful as Yuta if they ever saw one it's only natural but sometimes staring would turn into you thinking impure thoughts but those were just thoughts so you would just brush them off.

After a few seconds of silence and thinking to yourself Yuta scoots closer to you and you feel your heart rate increase as he leans in closer to your face your eyes shut as if you were expecting a kiss. He pauses and leans back and scoffs "I've always liked you y/n. Even before you and Mark got together but you would always look at him never at me I wanted you so bad and I tried so hard, yet you never noticed and started dating him instead" He pauses "But now I can't take it anymore I won't hide my feelings anymore. Y/n can I.. kiss you?" You pause not knowing how to respond for a minute, you bite the inside of your lip before you get to let out words you feel his lips on top of yours and honestly you are not complaining. After a few seconds he moves his face back "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this y/n.. all the things I've thought of doing with you.." You look at him "Wh..what things?" He smirks "Well if you're really curious I wouldn't mind showing you." You feel your cheeks burn up "But Mark.. I couldn't do this to him.." He rolls his eyes "I'm sick of hearing his name come out of those pretty little lips of yours.. it makes me sick." He gently grabs your chin and brings it towards his face inches away from his lips "I bet I have a way to get you to say my name.." you say "oh uhm.. sorry I just" He cuts you off and continues "Don't act like those nights you were here I couldn't hear you guys in there getting it on. I can tell he doesn't make you feel good. Honestly, I've never heard you moan his name not once. I bet I probably could fuck you better than he does." You squeeze your thighs together as you feel his breath on your face you can feel yourself getting wet just from him looking at you. "Aw you all silent? Do you not think I can?" You lick your lips and start to say "no I didn't say anything I'm just shocked.." He chuckles and pulls your face back to his and puts his lips onto yours. You open your mouth a bit more allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth feeling him explore your mouth. You let out small moans in between the kiss and he stops and parts your lips a bit "Fuck sweetheart you really know how to mess with my head.."

He then suddenly pushes you back onto the couch and kneels over you. You take in the view watching him stare down and look you up and down. You squeeze your thighs, and he notices and smirks "Oh? Are you really turned on now? Did you forget about your boyfriend already?" He pauses "Well whatever, it doesn't matter I'm going to make you feel so good you won't even remember what he feels like. Now I want you to take those shorts and panties off and show me how you fuck yourself" You listen to every word he says and slowly start to pull down your shorts revealing your panties. you can feel his eyes following your every movement. You stop and look away "I'm too embarrassed to do it.." He looks at you "How cute. Are you scared to show me how wet you got just from us kissing? or are you ashamed from getting turned on by another man? Don't think of him just focus on me and me only. I'll help you out." He reaches down towards your panties and caresses his hand over your thigh moving it in circles sending chills up your spine before moving his hands to your panties and slowly sliding them off you. '"Now.. play with that clit baby.. and show me how bad you want me." You slide your hands down and start rubbing circles onto your clit and bite the inside of your mouth feeling his eyes burning through you as he watches your every movement. You then feel him grab your hand and stop you after a few minutes of you squirming "Now I wouldn't want you doing all the work... Let me show you how a real man is supposed to go down on you." He leans his head down to your pussy and begins to eat you out. You feel chills as you take in this new feeling of pleasure mark has never made me feel like this you think to yourself. You feel his thumb slide over your clit and he begins to rub your clit while he moves his tongue and out of you slurping up all your juices and taking you all in. At this point you really have forgot about your boyfriend but honestly who cares? Just enjoy the moment and handle the consequences later. You start to moan out loud from the overwhelming pleasure that you haven't ever received from anyone before. "Ah fuck.. Yuta please it feels .. so good" you breathe out and you can feel him stop for a moment to smile and then feel him kissing your clit "You like that don't you? Tell me how much you like it I want to hear you." You get goosebumps from feeling his warm breath onto your exposed pussy "I l-like it so much.. please I'm going to cum.." You feel him stop rubbing your clit and he pulls his head up "Not so soon sweetheart.. I'll let you cum as much as you want soon just be patient." You pout and let out a sad moan and he laughs at you "Aw don't worry.. I'm about to give you what you really want."

He pulls you up and lays back on the other side of the couch and starts to pull his pants down, you can already see his dick ready to burst out of his underwear. He starts to slide down his boxers causing his dick to spring out. You mutter "If I knew you were hiding that thing, I'd have come over sooner." He chuckles "Oh really? How about you get your pretty little ass over here so I can show you what good dick feels like then." He pulls your arms forward, and you climb on top of him kneeling over him staring down at him with his dick out and his shirt lifted just a bit enough to see his butterfly tattoo and belly piercing. You never knew how a man could be so beautiful and sexy at the same time. "okay.. I'm going to put it in" You say shakily "Don't push yourself, okay? Let me know if you want to switch positions." You nod your head as you slowly start to slide his tip in while holding your breath and biting down onto your bottom lip "fuck.. you got this baby. You can take it." You start to push him inside gasping as you feel him filling you up your walls throbbing around his dick. He lets out a low groan and grabs your waist helping you go down. "Good girl you're almost there.. How about I give you a little push?" He grabs your waist and slams you down causing his dick to penetrate you deep inside, you can feel him filling up your hole and you let out a loud gasp almost losing your breath "shh baby it's okay, we'll start slow, okay?" He holds onto your hips and you start rocking your hips back and forth on him while he guides you with his hands you can see his breathing start to increase. He starts letting out soft moans while holding eye contact with you as you ride him. He slides one of his hands up your body and starts to play with your nipples pinching and teasing them causing you to throw your head back from the stimulation. "ah Yuta.. it feels so good but it's too hard.." He gives you a warm smile. "If it's too hard let me help." He moves his hands down to your ass and lifts you up, as he clenches onto your ass cheeks slamming you down onto his dick literally knocking the breath out of you. Your hand grips onto the back of the couch. He then suddenly picks you up and gets up while his dick is still inside of you carrying towards the bedrooms and he burst into marks room laying you back onto the bed. "I'm going to fuck you right here on his bed and make you realize who you really belong to." Before you could even say anything in response, he starts thrusting his hips in and out of you "What if he comes home.." you stop to let out a moan "W..we can't do it here what of Mar-" He cuts you off by slamming harder into you causing you to throw your head back and scream out loud. He smirks from your response and continues to say "Hah.. here you go talking about him.. just when I thought I-" He slams into you again "Thought.." And again "you'd forgotten all.." he lets out a groan "about him." He slams into one last time hitting you directly on your g spot "FUCK Yuta I'm going to.." He interrupted "Cmon baby cum.. cum for me, cum all over my dick and claim me as yours... fuck I wanna be yours so bad" Just as he finishes his sentence you scream his name out as you feel your orgasm wash over your body dripping all your cum on his dick. He pulls out and cums all over your stomach making a mess. You both stop and stare at each other breathing heavily. He leans forwards and starts kissing you and cuffs your face "I like you so much y/n.." Just as he finished his sentence you both hear the front door open...

Fuck.

[scary-grace]

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 15) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside-down world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

Chapter 15

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. Right now the thing that’s wrong with your house isn’t the ghost who haunts it, but the fact that said ghost is on day five of an extended sulk. With every day closer to your departure, Tomura’s gotten mopier, and no matter how many times you explain to him that you’ll only be gone for two days, it doesn’t seem to stick.

It’s Friday morning, and you’re leaving directly after work, which means you have to say goodbye to Tomura this morning. He’s not making it easy. “Someone else can go. Aizawa can go,” he complains. “I don’t see why you have to.”

“I’m the one who started looking into this. And Aizawa has kids to look after.” You finish packing your bag and zip it up. “Are you sure you’re okay to watch Phantom? Spinner said he would –”

“I know to feed her and play with her and let her out. I’m way better at taking care of our dog than Spinner.” Tomura is scowling worse than before, and you feel slightly guilty. You like hearing Tomura say that Phantom is both of yours, but that’s not a good enough reason to wind him up. “Why do you have to stay away that long?”

“It’s going to take me six hours to get there. I won’t be there until midnight tonight. I’ll take all of Saturday and some of the next day going over the documents, and I’ll be back late on Sunday.” You pick up your bag and start down the stairs. “I don’t like being away, either. I like it here.”

“Then don’t leave.”

“I have to.” You set your bag down by the front door, then crouch down to say goodbye to Phantom. You haven’t left her alone for this long in a while, and you’re going to miss her. If it wasn’t for Tomura, there’s no way you’d take this trip.

Tomura didn’t follow you down the stairs, and you hear his voice echo through a house that already feels a little too empty. “I won’t have anybody to talk to.”

You thought about that, too. You thought about it and decided that not talking to Tomura for two days wasn’t something you were prepared to tolerate. “Can you come down here? I’ve got something for you.”

Tomura’s footsteps are slow, almost reluctant, as he makes his way down the stairs. “What is it?” he asks. You don’t answer – you’re too busy searching through your hall closet for a bag you stashed there months ago. “If you want me to kiss you before you leave, just say that. Don’t act weird and –”

He stops talking when he sees the bag you’re holding out. “It’s a present,” you say. “Sort of. Open it.”

Tomura’s not very good at opening presents. He shreds the bag, followed by the box, and a charger cable and a pair of headphones fall out and clatter to the floor. He avoids dropping the main event, if nothing else – the smartphone remains in the palm of his hand, and he stares at it suspiciously. “This is for me?”

“We can set it up really quick right now.” If you were smart, you’d have done this last night, but last night you were busy – not with sex, which would have at least been fun, but with trying to snap Tomura out of his over-the-top bad mood. You beckon him closer and he hovers over your shoulder as you start the process. “See, this is your profile. What do you want to set your name as?”

“My name.” Tomura watches as you set it. “Now what?”

You adjust his phone so it’ll always be on battery saver, hook it up to the WiFi so he won’t burn through all your data, and mute all his alert sounds. “Now we’re going to get you some contacts. People you can call or text if you need to.”

You probably spent a lot more time than necessary thinking about whose numbers you should give to Tomura. You ruled out Dabi’s and Hizashi’s instantly – the last thing you want to do is give Tomura the ability to start fights with either of them whenever he wants. Giving Tomura Keigo’s number is risky, but you’re pretty sure Dabi doesn’t know Keigo’s passcode. Tomura gets Aizawa’s number, and Spinner’s, and Jin and Jin’s mom. Jin’s mom, after pleading from Himiko and significant hesitation, agreed to let you add Himiko’s number to Tomura’s phone. You add the other ghosts, too, even though Tomura doesn’t really need a phone to talk to any of them. Last of all, you add Mr. Yagi.

Tomura doesn’t like that. “I don’t want him on my phone. Get rid of him.”

“You don’t ever have to call him,” you say. “It’s just in case.”

“In case what?”

You don’t really know. Tomura makes an irritated noise. “I want Izuku’s number.”

“You can’t have Izuku’s number. Even I don’t have it.” You wouldn’t want it, honestly. Giving Izuku unlimited opportunities to text you or Tomura feels like a stunningly bad idea. “Okay, that’s everybody. Only text them if it’s important, not to start fights. I don’t want to have to fix the fence again.”

“I know,” Tomura says, annoyed. He studies his phone, then looks up at you. “Where are you? Are you in here?”

“I’ve been texting you all the contacts.” You tap your number. “This one is me. You can name me something if you want.”

You show him how to edit the contact, then watch with a little too much interest as he selects a name. He hesitates for a long time, then looks at you. “What am I in your phone?”

“Um –” You added him as a contact already. You hold out the phone for him to examine, and he studies it like he’s reading a textbook. “It’s just your name. Tomura. See? I thought about adding the ghost emoji, but that would have been silly. I can add it if you want.”

Tomura shakes his head, then sets your phone aside and types your name into his as your contact. Which is fine. Except then he adds a display name – My Human. “Hey,” you complain. “Don’t do that. I used your name.”

He smirks. Part of you wants to change his display name to something like “my asshole ghost” to return fire, but before you can say anything, Keigo honks his car horn and hollers from outside. “Hey, if we’re going, we need to go now!”

“We’re going!” you shout back. You pick up your bag and your work backpack and race out to his car. You’re about to get in when you realize you haven’t said goodbye to Tomura yet. And that you’re missing your phone. “Shit –”

“I have your stupid phone.” Tomura’s on the other side of the fence. You reach for it, but he holds it just out of range. “I want a kiss first.”

“I was going to kiss you anyway,” you say. You lean across the property line, grasp his shoulder to pull him closer, and kiss him goodbye. You don’t stop until Keigo honks the horn again.

You’ve been in relationships before, but none of your exes ever insisted on a goodbye kiss when you had to leave for more than a day, let alone a goodbye kiss in full view of the entire neighborhood. You’re a little giddy on the drive to work, and Keigo, to his credit, doesn’t rib you too much about it. “He knows you’re not going off to war, right?”

“He knows.” You slouch down in the passenger seat. “He’s been moping all week. Did Touya do that?”

“When I was gone for too long, Touya broke out of the house,” Keigo says. Your jaw drops. “He and a bunch of other ghosts haunted this old-style family compound, and each of them was confined to a specific area. He broke out of his and into somebody else’s. You can guess how that went. So that ghost broke out of their assigned haunt, and then –”

You remember what Keigo said about ghost fights. “How many ghosts were there, total?”

“Six.” Keigo winces. “I moved pretty fast after that.”

Dabi sounds like he was a lot to deal with even back when he was Touya. A terrible thought occurs to you. “You don’t think Tomura would –”

“You told him where you were going,” Keigo points out. “And you got him a phone so he can talk to you. When it was me I just dipped for a day or two. I had no idea Touya was going to take it like that.”

“So that was kind of early on for you guys?”

“I guess.” Keigo sighs. You’re at a stoplight, and he hits his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Anyway, that one was on me. If he’d been a normal roommate I would have told him where I was going. So I think you’re probably fine. But we’ll let you know if anything weird starts happening.”

You’re hoping it won’t. You change the subject. “Thanks for giving me a ride. Parking in the station lot for two days was going to be expensive.”

“No problem. I was headed this way anyway,” Keigo says. “It’s better that you’re taking the train than driving. Less expensive.”

“It’s harder to track, too,” you say. “I don’t think anybody’s watching, but – still. Better safe than sorry.”

“Definitely,” Keigo agrees. He merges onto the highway and floors it to a speed he swears the cops don’t pull people over for. “Nobody wants a repeat of last time.”

You’re hoping to avoid it. That’s what this trip is about. When you shared the idea with Mr. Yagi and Aizawa, they both approved, although they both suggested that they should go instead of you. You held your ground. Even fifteen years after his embodiment, Mr. Yagi has a reputation among ghosts, and Aizawa’s carrying around Hizashi’s marks with no conjurer-forged bracelets to conceal them. Besides, you’re the one who found the asylum, who found Shigaraki Yoichi. Since there’s basically nothing else you can do to help, you want to see this through.

But that doesn’t mean you’re looking forward to the trip. In fact, your dread of it increases throughout the day, until you’re dragging your feet along with your suitcase as you walk to the train. Some part of you knows the dread is irrational, but it’s hard to shake, and it’s got nothing at all to do with conjurers, asylums, or ghosts. The city nearest to the asylum is the one your parents moved to, after you went to college and they sold the house you grew up in. And you and your parents have an agreement to check in whenever you’re in the same city as they are. When you texted them to tell them you’d be there for the weekend, they told you to cancel your hotel reservation and invited you to stay with them.

It’s been over two years since you last saw them. Last time it was awkward, and it was awkward the time before that, too. Your parents’ ambitions for you included a college degree and financial independence, and once you hit those milestones, it was clear at least to you that they have no idea what to make of you. But turning down their offer of a place to stay would have made things worse, and besides, hotel rooms are expensive. Saving money is worth an awkward weekend at your parents’ new home. You’ve never been there before.

You doze on and off on the train, waking up at every stop and checking your phone. Tomura hasn’t texted you, but then again, why would he? He existed in the house alone long before you were even born. Maybe he’s figuring out that he likes the peace and quiet, too.

The thought doesn’t sit well with you, and you’re crabby for the rest of the ride, although you do your best to shake it off once you arrive. The meeting with your parents will be difficult enough without you being irritated at the ghost in your house at the same time. It’s just past eleven-thirty as you make the short walk to your parents’ house from the station, your stomach growling the entire way. You’ll have to order in from somewhere once you’re settled for the night.

Their house is in a small new development, multiple homes clustered around a large central courtyard. You step through the gate and make your way across it to your parents’ front door. You check your phone one last time, ordering yourself not to be disappointed when you see that Tomura hasn’t reached out. Then you raise one hand and press the doorbell.

The door swings open almost immediately, and your father smiles at you in a way that gives you pause. He reaches out and lifts your suitcase out of your hand, then pulls you into the house and into a hug shortly afterward. For lack of anything better to do, you hug him back.

He’s smaller than you remember. More frail, and there’s more grey in his hair. How old are your parents now? Pushing seventy – they had you late, and you’ve always had the impression that you were sort of an accident. “It’s been too long,” your father says to you. He waits while you take off your shoes, then beckons you further down the hall. “Come along. We held back dinner so we could eat together.”

That doesn’t sound right. You rarely ate with both parents at once when you were a kid; family mealtimes were no one’s priority, and you ate with whichever parent was in the house at dinnertime, or you ate alone. “Why?”

Your father gives you an odd look. “It’s been too long,” he says again, as if the distance is all your fault, as if they couldn’t have reached out just as easily. “And it seems you’ll be very busy this weekend. This might be the only time we can catch up.”

“I have a lot to do,” you admit. Your father sets your suitcase down just inside the door of a room and continues down the hall. You can smell food cooking. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

Your mother is busy in the kitchen, but when you go to help her, she waves you off, under instructions to wash your hands and get settled. “I’m making your favorite,” she tells you, and smiles. But then you see the smile waver. “Is it still your favorite?”

“I make it all the time,” you say. “It never tastes quite like yours.”

Tomura’s observed you working on the recipe more than once, and he always makes fun of you for changing it each time. No matter what you change, you can’t make it taste right, but maybe – “If you won’t let me help, can I stay and watch?”

“Of course,” your mother says. “It’s been too long.”

You wish they’d both stop saying that. If they wanted you to talk to them more now, they should have talked to you when you were a kid. Hizashi’s words pop into your head, like they do every so often: Mommy and Daddy didn’t love you enough. Maybe they didn’t. Or maybe they just didn’t know what to do with a kid once they had one.

Your phone makes the sad chiming sound that tells you it’s running low on battery, and you dig up your charger and plug it in, leaving it balanced on the corner of the kitchen counter as you watch your mom cook. Watching her, it’s easy to see where you went wrong in the recipe, or where you went wrong by following the recipe – there are spices your mom uses that are nowhere to be found on the ingredient list. You didn’t watch her cook very often as a kid. Maybe you should have asked if you could help.

The three of you sit down to dinner, and it’s beyond weird. The family dinners you remember were full of silence, but it’s been over two years since you last saw your parents, which means there’s a lot to talk about. You’re not sure how to talk about your life now, so you ask your parents about theirs, and hear that your dad’s retired but your mom is working part-time teaching English at a local middle school. They like their neighbors a lot. In fact, they want you to meet their neighbors tomorrow night. Apparently the neighbors have been asking about you.

“We told them a little, but you’re so busy that we haven’t talked in a while,” your mom says. Now you get why they invited you to stay here. Not knowing what your only child is up to looks pretty bad. “How have things been for you? Are you still working in the public defenders’ office?”

“What about law school?” Your dad takes a sip of his drink. Sometime in the last three years, your parents got sort of into fancy wine. “Are you still planning to go back?”

“Yeah. Money’s still an issue. I had a hard time saving with how high my rent was.” You try your own wine, but you don’t know enough about wine to know if it’s any good. “I bought a house, though. So I guess that’s new.”

It’s quiet for a bit. When you look up from your plate, you find your parents staring at you with their jaws dropped. “You bought a house?” your mother repeats. “You can’t afford law school. How can you afford a house?”

“I didn’t have enough for law school. I had enough for a downpayment,” you say. “My mortgage payments are cheaper than my rent was.”

“That’s hard to imagine. Is it in a good neighborhood?” your dad asks. “If it isn’t – what’s funny?”

Your neighborhood, being good. “There are five other houses besides mine. Three of them have families in them. They’ve been really nice to me, mostly. We all get together sometimes.”

“What for?”

Strategy sessions. Ghost fights on the sidewalk. Conjurer ambushes that end with half the street wrecked and some of you injured. “Just regular stuff. I went to one of the kids’ parties last weekend. I brought Phantom. She was a hit.”

“Who?”

“My dog,” you say. “I’d just gotten her the last time we talked. Don’t you remember?”

“She sent us a picture,” your dad reminds your mom, while you tamp down your frustration. “Is someone looking after her this weekend?”

“Yeah. My –” The stumbling block of how to describe Tomura temporarily breaks your brain. “A friend.”

You covered it well, you think – but you weren’t fast enough. “What kind of friend?” your mother asks, way too interested. “A special friend?”

“God, Mom. No.” You imagine the look on Tomura’s face if he heard someone refer to him as your “special friend” and experience a brief but powerful urge to crawl into a vent and die. “A friend. Really, I could have asked anybody in the neighborhood. They’re all really – nice.”

“A house,” your father muses. “In a good neighborhood. You must have a lot of friends over.”

You can’t tell if he’s needling you or not. He knows you’ve never been the type to have a lot of friends. “It’s kind of a ways out from where everybody else lives. Most people don’t like driving that far.”

“Oh, so that’s how you could afford it.”

You could afford it because it’s so goddamn haunted that nobody else wanted it, and the only reason you kept it is because the ghost who haunts it let you stay. “I don’t mind. I’d rather drive than have roommates and a landlord.”

Your father nods sagely. Your mother’s on a different track. “What about dating? Is there anybody special?”

“No,” you say, lying your ass off. “I’m not seeing anybody.”

Your phone starts ringing on the counter, but you ignore it, and so do your parents. “I don’t want to rush you, but you ought to get a move on, don’t you think?” your mother presses. “You’re going to be twenty-seven soon. If you don’t hurry up, all the good ones will be gone. Don’t you want to settle down?”

“I’m as settled down as I’m going to get,” you say. Your phone starts ringing again, and you ignore it again, even though you’d almost take a telemarketer over this conversation. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“You’re not disappointing us if that’s what makes you happy,” your dad says, and you’re impressed for about two seconds before he ruins it. “Are you sure that’s what will make you happy? What about –”

“What about kids?” your mother breaks in, looking honestly distressed. “Don’t you want kids? You’d be such a good mom –”

You would possibly be the worst mom on the planet. Your phone starts ringing again. “Are you going to get that?” your dad asks.

You should. Three calls in a row means it’s important, but this line of questioning from your parents is pissing you off, which means you’re not in the mood to do anything you should be doing. “Nope.”

“I’ll get it,” your mom announces. She picks up the phone and gasps. “Who’s Tomura?”

Your stomach drops like you’ve been kicked off a building. “Nobody,” you say. “He’s –”

“I knew you had a special friend!”

“He’s not a special friend!”

Your mom brandishes your phone, triumphant. “Then why is there a heart next to his name?”

He wouldn’t. He – you stare at the screen of your phone, and sure enough, there’s Tomura’s name on the caller ID, complete with an obnoxiously red heart emoji. You’re going to kill him. You seize the phone, accept the call, and press it to your ear. “What?”

Tomura sounds unfathomably sulky when he answers. “You got me the phone so we can talk while you aren’t here. Why didn’t you pick up?”

“I’m having dinner with my parents. It’s rude to pick up the phone at dinner.” You’re conscious of your parents staring at you with identical gleeful looks on their faces. “Just like it’s rude to call somebody three times in a row. What was so important?”

“You didn’t call me all day.”

“You didn’t call me, either,” you point out, trying not to lose your temper. If he had called you, you’d have noticed his little edit to his contact and gotten rid of it. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. Phantom ate and everything.” Tomura’s quiet for a second. “You have parents?”

“Yesh,” you say. Did you tell him that’s who you were staying with? You don’t remember. “I’m staying with them, not at the hotel. They invited me.”

Tomura swears under his breath. You can hear him rustling around, but you’re not sure what he’s doing, and the longer you give your parents to prep for their interrogation, the worse it’s going to be for you. “Can I call you back in a little bit? I do want to talk to you. I just – can’t right now.”

“How long is a little bit?”

“I don’t know,” you say hopelessly. Why does it matter? It’s not like he’s going to fall asleep. “I will, though. I promise. I miss you.”

The words leave your mouth before you can really think them through, but it’s the truth. You do miss Tomura. You miss him extra right now, and you’re not looking forward to falling asleep without his presence lurking somewhere in the room. When you wake up from nightmares of the world between, he and Phantom are the only things that make you feel better. “I miss you, too,” Tomura says. Then he hangs up the phone.

You set it aside, then turn back to face your parents. “So,” your mother says, grinning, “who’s Tomura?”

Your ghost. The reason why you don’t date anymore. The reason why you’re as settled as you’re ever going to be and the reason why your parents aren’t getting grandkids and the reason you’re here at all in the first place. There’s no way to explain him that your parents will understand, so you pick the one thing they will understand, even if it’s sort of wrong. “My boyfriend.”

You stagger off to bed forty-five minutes later, feeling like you’ve been run over by a train. Your mom had lots of questions – about where you met Tomura, how long you’ve been seeing him, what he looks like, what he does for a living – almost all of which you had to lie about. You’re going to have to remember all those lies later, too. Your dad was more concerned about why you’d lie about having a boyfriend, at which point you lost patience a little bit and said that the conversation the three of you just had about it was all the reason you needed. Then your mom said she wanted to meet him, and you decided it was time to start clearing the table.

They have a guest room, which is where you’re staying. You get ready for bed, go inside, and shut the door before checking your phone again. You’ve got messages from Tomura – and from Keigo. You open Keigo’s first and grimace when you see what it says. The lights in your house are going berserk right now. If he’s trying to get ahold of you, you should pick up the phone.

Keigo sent a video, too. In it, the lights inside your house are flickering wildly, and the entire property seems to be surrounded by some kind of weird, wavering forcefield. Great. You check Tomura’s texts next. He wants to know where you are. Why you haven’t called him. Then there are a few texts of him winding himself up over reasons why you haven’t called him, externalizing a thought process you would have kept to yourself if it killed you, before it occurs to him that something might have happened to you. At which point the phone calls started. You dig your headphones out of your backpack, put them on, plug them in, and call Tomura back.

He picks up halfway through the first ring, and you start talking first. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad. I just wasn’t planning to tell my parents about you, and because you called me when you did – and because you put that emoji in your display name – they found out.”

“Why does it matter if they found out?” Tomura asks. “Why don’t you want to tell them about me?”

You almost point out that you said you weren’t planning to, not that you didn’t want to, but Tomura knows what you really meant. He knows you better than you think he does. “You’re hard to explain,” you say. “To people who don’t know about ghosts. It wouldn’t make sense to them.”

“Why not?” Tomura’s climbing the stairs. You can hear them creaking under his feet. “You’re my human. Not the kind of human Spinner and Jin are. The kind Aizawa is.”

“The kind Keigo is,” you correct. Tomura makes an irritated sound. “Aizawa and Hizashi are married.”

“So what? You’re that kind of human. That’s not hard to explain.”

Maybe it isn’t. Maybe you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be. “I told my parents you’re my boyfriend. I hope that’s okay.”

“Boyfriend,” Tomura repeats, like he’s never heard it before – but when he speaks up again, it’s clear he’s got a handle on what it means. “If that’s what you have to call it so people understand, fine. As long as they know you’re my human.”

You could probably play off Tomura calling you his human as a cute nickname or something, but you’d really prefer not to have to do that. “If I tell people you’re my boyfriend, they’ll understand for sure.”

“Good.”

There’s some rustling around on Tomura’s end of the line. “What are you doing?”  you ask. “Where are you?”

There’s a prolonged silence, which means Tomura’s somewhere he thinks he’s not supposed to be. There aren’t many options left these days. “You’re on the bed, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. So what?” More rustling. “It’s weird that you’re not here. I hate it.”

“I don’t like it, either,” you admit. When you close your eyes, it’s easy to picture Tomura stretched out on your side of the bed, taking up the space you usually would, head resting on your pillow. “Maybe there won’t be as much to go through tomorrow as I thought and I can get home tomorrow night instead.”

“The sooner you come back, the better.” Phantom’s collar rattles in the background of the call, and you know she’s jumped up on the bed with Tomura. “Spinner came over. He said I needed a game that wasn’t Rainbow Fish, so he gave me one and taught me how to play it. It’s – Pokémon?”

“He gave you something to play it on, too, right?” You need to thank Spinner. “What do you think of it?”

“It’s okay. The music is weird.” Tomura’s voice fades for a second, and you can hear Phantom slobbering into the microphone. “It was more fun before he left. I don’t like playing games alone.”

“You can ask him back over. I bet he wouldn’t mind,” you say. “Which starter did you pick? Fire, water, or grass?”

“Fire,” Tomura says. You could have guessed that. “My rival had water, though. I should have picked grass.”

“If you picked grass, your rival would have picked fire.”

“So they always pick the one that can beat yours?” Tomura sounds honestly pissed at the unfairness, and it makes you smile. “That’s stupid.”

“It would be boring if it was too easy,” you say. Tomura complains under his breath. “And they can’t beat you if you build a good team. I used to play that a lot as a kid. I can help if you want.”

“I don’t need help,” Tomura says. “You can watch if you want.”

“That sounds nice.” You imagine sitting next to Tomura with your head on his shoulder, letting the goofy Pokémon music lull you into a doze. It’s a weirdly relaxing image. You find yourself swallowing a yawn. “Sorry –”

“Go to sleep. If you don’t you’ll be slow, and then you’ll have to stay the extra day.” Tomura sounds annoyed, but he sounds annoyed any time you have to end an interaction before he wants it to end, so you’re used to it. What you’re not used to is what he says next. “If you have one of your nightmares, don’t just lay there doing that weird shivering thing. Call me.”

You lie there for a moment, stunned. You’ve never mentioned the nightmares to him. You never breathed a word. “How did you know?”

“I know what sounds you make in your sleep. When you’re having a nightmare they’re wrong.” Tomura’s quiet for a moment. “Don’t just lay there. Call.”

Your throat feels tight. “Okay.”

Tomura hangs up. You pull your headphones out of your ears, set your phone down on the nightstand, and squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t need to cry. There’s no reason why your eyes should well up.

You’re in your parents’ house. It’s a new house, but it feels the same as the old house. Even though your parents listen now. Even though they care about what’s going on in your life – for their own reasons, sure, but they care – your family is still the same way it’s always been. Quiet. Distant. Sterile. Your parents have seemed happier the last few times you’ve seen them. You’ve never admitted it out loud, to anyone, but you think they’ve been happier since you moved out, because you moved out. And that was okay with you. The last time you went back to visit, it was fine.

It’s not fine anymore – not because they’re different, but because you are. You remember Tomura saying once that he didn’t care about being alone before, but he does now. You didn’t let yourself care about the way your family was before, but you can’t stop yourself from caring now, because now you know how it feels to actually belong somewhere. You belong at your house. You’re wanted at your house. You make someone happy by being there. Somebody misses you when you’re gone, tells you to hurry back, tells you to call if you’ve had a nightmare. There’s probably something fucked up about the fact that the only person you’ve ever felt at home with isn’t even human. But you know what it means to feel at home now. Being away from that is hard. Harder than you want to handle.

You scramble for your phone, and it starts ringing in your hand. Tomura’s contact, with its stupid heart. You jam your headphones into your ears and accept the call, and for a moment you and Tomura are just talking over each other. The gist of it is pretty clear, though. You were about to call him, just when he decided to call you. “Um –”

“Stay on the phone while you’re sleeping. That way I’ll hear. And I can wake you up.”

Your heart lifts even though it shouldn’t. “How are you going to wake me up?”

You picture Tomura shrugging. “I’ll just yell.”

“Don’t yell.” The only thing that would be worse than having one of your nightmares is waking up from one to the sound of Tomura hollering in your ear. “If you hear me start to have one, hang up the phone and call me back. I’ll hear it ringing and it’ll wake me up.”

“Yelling is faster.”

“And it’s scarier,” you say. “You’d know if you slept.”

“Ghosts can’t.” Tomura’s quiet for a moment. “I wish we could.”

That strikes you as weird. It strikes you as weird any time Tomura talks about wanting to do one of the few human things materialized ghosts can’t do. “Why?”

Tomura doesn’t answer. “Fine. I won’t yell. Go to sleep.”

“Tomura –”

“Go to sleep,” Tomura says again. If you try to talk anymore, he’ll just ignore you. You hear Phantom snoring in the background and tell yourself that it’s time to sleep. You shut your eyes.

Somehow knowing that Tomura’s there on the other end of the line, knowing that he’ll wake you up if you start having one of your nightmares of the world between, helps you fall asleep. You think you hear Tomura whisper something as you drift off, but there’s no way you heard him right. It has to be a dream. At least it’s a better dream than the ones you’ve been having lately.

[m-rosie]

A 1960's Story About Love.

I looked up at the man with a somber expression and said “I’m sorry sir, there’s simply nothing I can do. My manager won’t allow me to let you leave without paying for these.”

He was looking directly at me with glassy, sad eyes. For a moment we were at a standstill. Staring at each other’s eyes with nothing but the department store fan to be heard. Then, from the back of one of the small aisles, came a man with a fancy looking suit and beautiful dark slick back hair.

“How much will it be?” He asked, catching me off guard.

“Uhh… 20 cents.” I replied, trying to regain my composure.

He handed me the money and gave the two cans of soup to the old man next to him. The old man thanked him and smiled more than I’d ever seen him before. He hung around the nearby neighborhood often panhandling for his next meal. I felt terrible for him but my father, the department store owner, was not a very generous man. The smiling man, carrying his two soup cans, left the store happy. The man in the suit smiled at me and started toward the door.

“Sir!” I called out, not thinking.

“Yes?” he replied, turning his head.

I don’t know what compelled me to call out to him, but there was something about this man that simply demanded me to get to know him better. Maybe it was his generosity towards the old man or maybe it was simply how well kept he looked.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Micheal,” he answered, with a smile. He turned his body to face me once again and asked “and are you Mrs. Johnson?”.

“Oh, no.” I laughed, “Mrs. Johnson is my mother, she passed away a few years ago. My father is the Mr. Johnson who owns the store.”

“Oh, I see.” He said with a chuckle.

The sun gleamed in at this moment from the door behind him, illuminating him like an angel from the heavens. His smile was so warm and kind, it was contagious.

“Well, I must go now. It was nice to meet you Ms. Johnson. I hope to see you again.” He said, throwing one final smile at me before turning away and making his way out the door.

The store was now empty and returned to its usual numbing stillness. However, now with a warm yellow glow that poured inside its dull aisles giving them a new warm feeling of…hope? Or maybe it was happiness?

My father had been on my case for the past year for me to get married since I was already 24, turning 25. It had been the source of many arguments between us as I didn’t want to get married until I found the right person. My father, on the other hand, didn’t care about my feelings and simply wanted a man that could take over the department store for him so he could retire. For the first time in my life, today, I thought maybe, just maybe, I had found that right person. I had dropped myself on the ground, behind the counter against the wall, and was staring at the glow of the sun, losing myself in these thoughts until I had to close shop.

The next morning was a busy one in the department store. But, I had a pep in my step and was serving every customer with a smile, hoping that maybe Micheal would come by again. The day, however, was soon winding down, and there was only an hour until I had to close. The sun hid itself behind some clouds and I was a little disappointed Micheal hadn’t come by. There was no reason for me to expect him really, I had never seen him before so, who was to say I’d ever see him again? But, somewhere in my imagination, I was sure he’d come by. Surely, the man of my dreams couldn’t just cross my path once and never again right?

It seemed that my destiny was clear that evening however, when the man with the suit and beautiful dark slick back hair walked in through the door. The sun’s setting rays were shining through as he opened it and illuminated him as he walked inside.

A little startled, I jumped to stand straight. He walked inside and, when our eyes met, gave me a smile that melted my heart. The sun behind him gave him a beautiful glow.

He walked up to the counter and said “Why don’t we get married?”

I looked at him confused, thinking I had misheard him. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Why don’t we get married?” He repeated. “I came by yesterday to see the store before a meeting with your father.”

At this moment I was so confused, I couldn’t understand where this was going.

“I was planning to buy it off him, but apparently he isn’t willing to sell. He wants to keep the store in the family.” Micheal was explaining.

“But then, I had this idea. You aren’t married and your father said you’re looking for a husband. If we get married, you get a husband and I get the store.” He added with an air of genius in his voice.

My heart shattered. He wasn’t the generous man I had built up in my mind. He was just a greedy boy who thinks he’s a genius for suggesting this proposal. He doesn’t even like me, or even realize that I’d want real love. Not just a beneficial arrangement. The setting sun finally went to sleep, and the department store was now dark and unglamorized by the yellow warm light. After rejecting his proposal and closing up the store, I sat by myself, on the ground, behind the counter against the wall, and got lost in my thoughts. He had crushed my heart. Even the sun’s rays had now left me.

I was alone once again.

[zombiesama]

I'm going to ignore my mental state collapsing and go do some pixel art Or go to sleep. Either way I'll probably be offline until morning lol

[mxtantrights]

past lives | 10

a/n: final part!! AHHHHHHH stay tuned for the epilogue!!! And thank you guys so much for coming on this journey with me. I really appreciate it and YOU! <3

You awoke to the smell of cement and dry wall. It smelled so bad you could feel it in your throat. Your eyes cleared up to the spectacle in front of you. It was Ra's and Nyssa with their arms crossed.

“Is this some sick parent teacher conference?” you joked.

“No games. You failed to deliver the package.” he said.

“You mean your grandson? The one who left of his own volition?”

“Nonsense he is the heir to everything I have. He can’t leave.”

You looked over more to your former friend, “Nice to see you too Nyssa.”

“Why didn’t you stick to the plan?” she asked.

You look at Ra’s and he’s already staring you down. You don’t think he’s told her. It would have been best not to. Withholding information is his favorite skill anyways.

You’re about to say something when Ra’s comes over and backhands you. It makes you curl in the chair they’ve put you in. You weren’t surprised, that didn’t make it any less worse however. 

He really doesn’t want her to know.

“All you had to do was seek him out. You couldn’t even do it.” 

His smack- you hate to say it- brought up a thought to the front of your mind. 

“When did you know about my father?” you asked.

It’s in words that Nyssa isn’t able to pick up on. You know. He knows. It’s clear he doesn’t want her to know. Another hint at telling her might earn you worse than a slap.

“After you came out of the pit. I looked into your identity some more and did some research.” he said.

“Tell me,” you move your arms bound to the back of the chair, “Did you spawn Damian afterwards because of me?”

“No, you’re not the reason. I had already been watching him for some time. You were just a happy coincidence.” he answered.

Ra's folds his hands behind his back and moves around Nyssa, and then around you. In a circle. The predator and the prey. What was Nyssa this time around?

“You never reached out.” you said directly to her.

“You left.” she shot back.

“He wanted me gone.” you nodded to her father.

“It was a test you imbecile!” she shouted.

It made you flinch. You realized that maybe Nyssa wasn’t going to let bygones be bygones. And from her stand point she didn’t have to. You hurt her. 

Ra’s circles around you once more. His eyes never left Nyssa though. It gave you a sickening feeling. How everyone was his pawns. Specifically Talia and Nyssa. The women in that family needed serious counseling after being brought up by a man like that.

“If it was a test then why did he let me live? The moment I stepped out the door I should have been dead!” you shouted back.

She stayed silent. So you continued.

“He’s lying to you Nyssa.” you said.

“She’s right I lied to you. It wasn’t part of some test.”

Nyssa turned to her father in shock. You were sat wondering why he would give himself up so easily. What did he have to play here?

Whatever it was could wait. He was far enough now to not strike you again. You needed to let her know.

“He wanted me as a back up for Damian. My half-brother.” you said.

Nyssa turned back to you and when she did Ra's smacked her too. You winced for her, his hand print would probably be on your face in a few minutes. Just like old times.

He turned to you.

“You ruined my plan to bring my grandson back. Now he knows I’m here.” he said.

“He ran away for good reason. I’m glad he did. I would've never handed him over to you anyways.” you spoke.

“You didn’t have to hand him to me, you were just going to serve him to me on a platter.”

“No. Because I know you were tracking me through my phone, both of them. You think I didn’t notice how heavy that flash drive is? I know a cloning device when I hold one. And the burner phone? That was cheap work.” 

He began to laugh. It made you sit further back in your seat. Him laughing was never a good sign. And it never sounded right. All those years in the pit must’ve done something to his laugh, along with the rest of his mind.

Ra's al Ghul came face to face with you. He wasn’t a pleasant man to look at. His breath even more telling on how close to death he is. But you looked him in the eye anyways.

“And that’s why you’re here. The bargaining chip. He’ll come for you, because just as you care for him he cares for you.”

He lets up and in the background you saw Nyssa shift her arm really quickly. You don’t know what it was for. 

-

The family had gotten a hit on your location. It had been four hours since you were taken. Everyone decided to suit up and hit the streets for the first two hours. Redhood and Red Robin took downtown, Nightwing enlisted the help of GCPD to search Midtown and Batman and Robin took Uptown. With the league they couldn’t be too careful.

In the middle of searching is when they got a comms message from Alfred. Your phone had pinged off a tower in Crime Alley. As Bruce and Damian were closest they began to head over to that neighborhood. The rest of the boys and some footmen from the GCPD were on their way over.

Batman and Robin got there and Alfred was able to narrow down the closest tower that your phone pinged off of. 

In the bat mobile Damian remained quiet. He had kept mum about the real reason you were there with him when Gotham Academy had caught on fire. Bruce could tell it was something he wanted to speak about alone.

“So what's the real reason?” 

Damian let out a sigh, “This isn’t our first meeting. We’ve had a relationship since I was born. Back on the island.”

“With the league?”

“Yes. It was sad when we could no longer see each other, grandfather had offered an out. I never thought we would see each other again.”

Bruce stayed quiet for a moment. All that could be heard was the engine of the batmobile. 

“Did you know you were related?”

“I found that out the same day as Gotham Academy. We had a conversation later that night.”

“You snuck out?” 

“I had to father. It was for good reason. We were able to put the pieces together. I said I would handle grandfather.” 

“Damian.”

“This has gone on for too long. It’s my fault. If something happens-”

“We’ll make it.”

Then he steps more on the gas.

- 

Your head lulled forward after the sixth blow he dealt you. It wasn’t like you earned it. He wanted to prove a point to Nyssa. That you were expendable to him. That in the grand scheme of things you didn’t matter.

“All that training, wasted! You can’t even get out of the restraints.” 

You swallowed the blood that was in your mouth, “What makes you think he’ll come for me?”

“We’re going to send a public ransom across all of Gotham. I figure a hundred thousand as the bounty will circulate enough to get to him. And then he’ll come and find you.”

“He’s just a child.”

“No he’s more than a child. He’s my grandson, the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul.”

“And what does she think about all this?” 

“Enough!” he shouted.

You were punched again. 

“I’ll get someone to send the ransom around.” Nyssa’s voice said.

You lifted your head up to look at her but her back was already turned to you. This however did earn you another punch, to the gut this time, by Ra’s. You let out a disgusting sound at the impact.

“Instead of a coincidence you’ve become an inconvenience. This time I won’t put you in the pit.” 

“Why would you ever put me in there in the first place, huh? I was a no one! You  didn’t know me or my mother. You just snatched my body and made me one of your foot soldiers.” you screamed through the incoming headache.

He did that mechanical laugh again and you wanted to spit at him. You never thought he was a good man. All the things he did. The things he told you to do. You can’t absolve all of the blame but he was an undeniable reason why you did those things.

Drop offs turned into stake outs. Stake outs into undercover. Undercover into sedation. With him the lines were blurred, because there was supposed to be nothing you wouldn’t do for him. But you chose Damian. Or, you chose Damian’s new life over his old one. And he didn't like that one bit.

The door bused open and in came Batman. You didn't think you'd live to see him up close. It’s true that while in Gotham you would probably see him once or twice. But this?

You watched as Ra's attacked him on sight. It was like the two were in sync. Batman hit, Ra’s dodged. A kick here, a swerve there. They seemed to be equals. You know you could never pull that off. Ra’s would have you flat out in under a minute.

When Batman should have swerved he didn’t. And Ra’s got the best of him with a punch. This gave way to a kick to the side and a head pull into the ground. You struggled to get out of your restraints. It wasn’t looking good for either of you.

Ra’s picked him up, and you watched in horror as he hurled him toward you. Batman collided with you so hard that he broke the chair you were in. It sent you back into one of the many crates in the room.

Batman groaned as you lifted him off of you. You slid over to the side on the floor. He was definitely not light. He knocked the only wind out of you that remained after Ra’s punishment.

No more chair meant your hands were free.

You pulled your arms around to the front. You could try to take him like this. Even though you could hear him laughing in the foreground. 

“Here.” 

You looked over at Batman. He was holding out one of his knives, shaped like a bat. You took it without passing a comment on it. You passed the blade over the restraints and made quick work of them.

On your feet, the laughter stops. You inched closer and closer to him.

“I didn’t snatch your body, your mother handed you over when she found out you were murdered. She asked me for this!” he said.

You stopped. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“When you died she went to a very dark place. With how dark she got it didn’t take long for her to find one of my associates and get in contact with me. She begged for you to be brought back. Her child!”

You ran into the attack. The words that came from his mouth just made you see red. He threw his fists but you ducked and weaved. After weaving you landed multiple blows on him. You grabbed him by the shoulders and brought your knee into him. 

He went down a bit, only for a few seconds, then got his bearings back. Ra’s spit out the blood from his mouth.

“You’ll leave here with no parents. And it’ll be at my behest.” 

In through the door comes Robin. A robin with a face too familiar to hide behind a mask. 

“Grandfather!” the little robin shouted.

That makes you look behind you. At Batman. Bruce Wayne.

Your father was Batman. Your father.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

💎💍TO CATCH A THIEF💍💎

Prompt: Inspired by the song: To Catch A Thief by Lovage

Word Count: Really Long, girl 😩

Pairings: 1930’s Mob! Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, smut (implied), murder, manipulation.

Tagging: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @akiko-tanaka , @nicolewoo , @saccreigns , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @auawdo , @lustyromantic , @babydee17 , @yungbludjazz360

Notes: As cliche as it sounds, I’m a truly lover of music and love different genres. I love to be able to show different types of bands/ projects/ music that sometimes people might not even know exists. So this little fic is inspired by one of my favorite music projects EVER: LOVAGE (it has Mike Patton on it, so of course I would love it! The man has been my musician crush since I was 9 years old! And he’s amazing, so). Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check them out on my Masterlist. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

Of course I’ve heard of them and of course they’ve caught my interest! The Reigns’s and Uso’s were one of the biggest gangsters families among the USA, who were responsible for the biggest robberies across the country.

The current rumors spreading around the neighborhood swore they were here, hiding from the authorities, in our small little town.

And I would give anything to meet one of them. As the daughter of a prostitute, my only fate was to follow my mother’s footsteps but I am more ambitious than that! The only way to prosper in life is to be completely feared. Be feared not respected as Machiavelli himself taught. And I know, for a fact that, that is completely true! Growing up in the red light neighborhood had proved to be quite the life lesson, actually. ‘Don’t trust the police’, ‘Make alliances with criminals’, ‘Trust no one’, ‘Don’t snitch’, ‘You never hear or see anything’, ‘Mind your own business’, ‘Don’t allow people to mind YOUR business’, ‘Show no emotions’, ‘Always be smarter than your enemies’, were a few of those rules. People think that, for a woman to be perfectly successful in the 1930’s she needs to be a trophy wife, nothing more than a beautiful face with zero brains and a pair of open legs to a rich husband. But they are wrong! You see, any woman can use her beauty and charm to manipulate and conquer whatever she wants, but she can only maintain that manipulation power if she’s smart enough. I’ve had the town mayor, Mr. Heyman, gift me a beautiful diamond crown (that originally was meant to be his wife’s birthday present) just with some charm and sweet nothings whispered to him. I didn’t needed to warm his bed for it, I just had to be smart enough to understand his weaknesses and say the right words! I know what I want, so I get it, and believe me when I say: I will have Roman Reigns all to myself.

Things were disappearing in my neighborhood

Once again somebody was up to no good

I saw that you were wanted, but not like I wanted you

And that's when I knew I had to be with you

And that's when I knew if I didn't, I'd be through

To end my grief I'd have to catch a thief

Your love was my relief my love is your release.

Ah! Mayor Heyman’s high society ‘charity gala balls’ (aka meet your husband’s new mistress), were the most futile yet amusing events of this town. I wasn’t a high society woman, economically speaking but again I’m good at saying the right things to the right people. So it’s no surprise to see my name in the mayor’s guest list.

I entry the big doors of the city hall wearing my most recently acquisition: an emerald green velvet dress (gifted by the Senator John), my high heels (Another gift from Mr. Smith, the banker) and my hand purse (from the all so lovely Mayor Heyman)...Speak of the Devil.

“Y/N” He greeted

“Oh, Mayor Heyman. What an honor” I smiled sweetly

“Believe me, it’s my honor, dear” He kisses my hand in an flirtatious way. And it’s a good thing I’m great at keeping my gag reflex in control.

“Oh please, I’m the one who has to thank you for always reminding little old me for your tremendously chic events. I can’t express my gratitude enough for you always having so much compassion in your heart!” I scoot closer to him, slightly fixing his tie “It is such a shame that you’re a married man, mayor Heyman, I would have loved to be your wife” I whispered softly

He gulped “I can change that” He smirked

“Oh please, mayor!” I stepped back with a offended look on my face “As a Christian woman, I cannot support divorce! That is some type of thinking that will lead us directly back to sodom and gomorrah! I can’t believe you just said that to me” I make the sign of the cross

“I am so sorry, Y/N it was not my intention-“

“I am not a prostitute or a home wrecker, mayor Heyman! I am a woman devoted to the Lord and I will not accept or tolerate that type of language or insinuations towards me!”

“I am deeply sorry Y/N, I truly am! Let me make it up to you. Here” He fastly signed a blank check “Please take this”

“I can’t” I whisper, pretending embarrassment

“Please, Y/N! It’s the least I can do. You can use it for whatever you want, no matter the price. I could never offend you! You’re such an amazing woman. Please accept it!” His pleading eyes let me know I had him hooked.

I ‘reluctantly’ accepted “Well, thank you, so much” I murmur with tears upon my eyes

“No, I’m the one who has to thank you, for dismissing my ogre behavior” He smiled “I’ll leave you now, so you can fix your makeup”

“Thank you, mayor Heyman”

Once he’s out of my sight, I can drop the naïve girl routine.

“Impressive” A deep male voice spoke from behind me

When I turn around, my knees almost failed me... it was him.

“I beg your pardon?” I ask

“The little stunt you just did with the mayor, was truly impressive. I swear that if I didn’t saw you get out of your naïve christian woman character I would have one hundred percent believed too” He smirked

“Mr. Reigns. That’s a compliment coming from you”

“You know who I am”

I shrugged “I’ve heard a few things here and there”

He gets closer to me, until our faces almost touched

“Yeah? Tell me, Y/N. That’s your name right?” He asked and I nodded

“What have you heard, Y/N?”

“How your the head of the table on your family’s business” I mumbled

“How does a woman like you, know about my family’s business, Y/N?” He walks forward, making me step back until I my back reached a closed door.

“I was raised on the streets”

Roman’s eyebrows raise in surprise “Really? You don’t seem like the streets type” He said, caressing my cheek.

“I had to learn how to be more polished if I didn’t wanted to become a hooker”

“I see” He buried his nose on my neck, inhaling deeply my perfume as his hands rested on my waist “And I imagine your perfume is also a result from a similar scene with the mayor” Roman whispered in my ear

“The senator not the mayor” I cackled

He amusingly laughs on my ear “You have friends in high places, huh?” His hands moved up, cupping my breasts through the dress

“People use what they have, Mr. Reigns” I look into his eyes “You use you intimidating strength” I squeeze his biceps “And I use my womanly charm” I batted my lashes “They’re both means to an end”

Come into my window

It's open every night

That's where I'll be waiting

I'll keep off all the lights

I'm lying on my bed

Crown jewels on my head

The loud knocks on my front door made me quickly get up. Going down the stairs I can see a tall manly figure waiting for me to come and answer. I grab my Colt 1908 Pocket Hammerless gun from the little drawer on my cupboard.

Placing my finger on the trigger I opened the door.

“Yes?” I ask harmlessly

“Mrs. Y/N?” The tall Samoan man asked

I nodded once

“My name is Jey and I’m here in behalf of Mr. Reigns”

I nodded again

“Why don’t you come and take a ride with me?” Jey coldly smiled

I'd never give you up

So come in from the cold, let your guard down

I'd hide you from the cops

Don't be frightened now my love

I'll take the life of crime, all to make you mine

The hotel room is big, fancy and very expensive by the looks of it. If I had to take a lucky guess, I would say that he’s not paying for anything in here, it is all a curtesy from the mayor.

“I’m glad you came” Roman smiles

“Did I had a choice?” I tilted my head

“No, you didn’t” He chuckled “Can I offer you anything to drink?”

“Are you going to drug me if I say yes?” I joke

“Depends on your answer to my proposal” He smirked

“Proposal?”

“Yes” Roman got up from his chair coming to stand in front of me

“You see, Y/N. You’re a very, very interesting woman. Ambitious, smart, charming, intelligent and gorgeous. You’re not easily scared, in fact, it looks like you enjoy danger” He pulled me closer to him, until our bodies were pressed together “I could use a woman like you in my business. At the gala ball you told me about your goals in life and I could see with my own eyes you successfully work your magic on every men in that room. So, what I propose to you is: come with me, I’m leaving town tomorrow and I would like for you to come with me, be a part of my team, use your looks and your brain to our favor.”

“And what’s in it for me?” I asked

“Money, power, jewels...Anything you want” He sincerely said

“What if I would like to add you to that package?” I whispered

Come in off that roof top

You're so handsome dressed in black

See you in the shadows

I'd like to see you on your back

Take this precious treasure

And I will treasure you

Roman smirked “So be it! If you want me too, then you can have me”

He leaned down, capturing my lips in a famished kiss. Pushing me down on the bed, his broad body hovering over mine, grinding, kissing, biting, panting, pounding and moaning until the first rays of sunshine from the next day peaked through the curtains...

6 MONTHS LATER

“What do you say about we take a drink, Mrs. Reigns?” Tony, my husband’s arch enemy and Capo of the Italian Mob asked

“I would love to” I smile sweetly as I hook my arm in his. Going to the back alley.

“I figured it was already time for you to leave that husband of yours for a real man, you know? And I knew you would come to me, sugar” Tony winked

“You’re right, Tony. I do need a real man” I smirked to the shadows when the gun fired.

Tony’s body fell down by my side on the dirty alley street

“But you didn’t thought you were that man, right?” I cackled

Roman’s arm circle around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

“Hello Tony” He smiled “Did you really thought you could have her?” Roman chuckled “C’mon, we both know she’s too much of a woman for you! You can’t handle it! I bet you’re regretting to have thought with your dick now, don’t you?”

“She will leave you eventually Reigns. Just wait for it!” Tony spat

I pressed my high heel on his chest wound, pressing it down and making Tony scream in agony

“You watch your mouth, you fucking fat pig! You know nothing, you ARE NOTHING! I would never leave Roman for you” I laugh “I will never leave him for anyone” I smile at him, aiming to his head and pressing the trigger right afterwards.

We'll run away my dear

Some place special have no fear

We'll even change our names

We'll be kinky, we'll be strange

I'll take the life of crime, all to make you mine

All to catch a thief

Your love is my relief, my love is your release

Your love is my relief, my love is your release

All to catch a thief

“You are perfect” Roman whispered, kissing me vigorously in front of Tony’s dead body. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here” He opened the passenger door of his Rolls Royce and I enter it.

Once we’re driving through the highway he says

“I can’t wait for us to get to the hotel” Roman kisses my hand, intertwining our fingers “I’m going to fuck you senseless” He growls

And I can’t help the happiness smile that spreads on my lips..

[rosy-cheekx]

for the kiss prompts... 16 with jonmartin?

Combined this New Years Kiss prompt with @ombreblossom‘s prompt for “a giggly kiss" and an anon prompt: “I wish you would write a fic where martin scoops Jon into his arms and Jon realizes how strong he is” damn if i dont deliver

Just a good vibes fic while I’m dying over the pre-finals stress. Check on your friendly neighborhood psychology students, especially juniors. They’re a-struggling. 

Enjoy!!

Resolutions, 2.2k

CW: alcohol

--

“Happy New Year’s Eve!”

Jon wasn’t sure what he expected of Tim’s house. Maybe something haphazardly designed, with takeaway menus pinned to the fridge? Maybe the epitome of the bachelor pad?

He definitely hadn’t expected the open floorplan, spotlessly cleaned and well-organized, with furniture complementary to the walls and each other. Warm light spilled from every lamp, with purple and silver decorations inscribed with “2015” and “Happy New Years” dangling from almost every surface.

“You can close your mouth now, buddy,” Tim elbowed him lightly. “I keep my spaces clean, what can I say?”

Jon clamped his teeth back together and held out a bottle of white wine mechanically. “I brought this. Er, sorry I’m late.”

Tim shook his head jovially, taking Jon’s coat and scarf along with the wine, before handing the bottle back to him. “Party’s just getting started. We’ve been drinking a bit, playing some games.” He winked before nudging him toward the couches, where Sasha’s dark curls were just visible. “Go on, I’ll be right behind. They’ll be happy to see you!”

“Jon!” The man in question jumped and craned his neck to see Martin—or, more rightly, his hand—from over the edge of the couch cushions. “Good, you’re here! Sash and Tim are kicking my ass in Scrabble.”

Jon approached the living room, spying Martin, sitting on the floor in front of a coffee table, another bottle of white wine between him and Sasha, along with the aforementioned Scrabble board. “Scrabble isn’t a team sport?”

“Hey, Jon. Ooh, more wine, thank god, this one’s just gone.” Sasha scrunched her nose with her greeting, reaching for the bottle in his hands. “And no, it’s not,” she continued as she spun a corkscrew between her fingers. “But Tim is missing like half the tiles so we can’t play four.”

“Tim’n’Sash ganged up on me,” Martin mumbled, the edges of his words softened, Jon assumed, by wine. “I didn’t even—I’m new to research, issnot fair.”

Sasha pulled the cork from the wine as Tim leapt over the cushion of the suede couch, landing neatly next to her. “I told you, you would get Jon when he showed up, which evens it out anyways. Stop pouting.”

“Am not.”

Jon folded his legs beneath his hips as he sat, examining the board and taking a proffered glass from Sasha’s hands. “Don’t worry, Martin,” he offered, smiling gently at the man, taking in the flush of his face and the rolled sleeves of his dress shirt—maroon, he filed away. Looks good with his hair. “We’ve just got to last long enough before Tim gets drunk or bored and starts to throw letters at us. Did he tell you that’s why they’re missing?”

Martin laughed aloud and the noise caught Jon off guard. It was a low, warm sound, loud in a way that suited the man. Jon smiled to himself, proud.

“I do-I do not,” spluttered Tim, pointedly ignoring Sasha’s raised eyebrow. “…I stopped that when we were down to one W.”

Jon nudged Martin, gesturing for the block of letters in front of him. “You’ll see. Our turn?”

--

Eight rounds, three glasses of wine, and a dodge from the letter E later, Jon was feeling properly comfortable. They were all properly buzzed, if not a little tipsy, and the clock ticked steadily closer to midnight. Martin and Jon had continued to be partners for all the other games they played: Charades, Pictionary, and a silly game Sasha had made up where they had to describe concepts like colors or sounds, without using words directly related to them. Martin had carried their team for that game, explaining through an embarrassed blush that he liked to read a lot of poetry. Jon elected to ignore that statement, though he was grateful for the edge it gave them; his competitive streak was willing to ignore a multitude of sins.

At 11:15, Tim flipped through the television programs, searching for one doing a proper countdown. One of the BBC Music channels was playing a Countdown playlist, with an eclectic variety of music on the playlist if the presented queue was any indication. Remote in hand, Tim spun on his heel, lip-syncing voraciously to the song, some dreadfully cheesy rock ballad. In turn, he focused on Sasha, then Jon, then Martin, hand outstretched to each of them in a mockery of longing. When he turned his attention back to Sasha, the chorus swelled and she took his hand, swinging herself under his arm with a grin on her face. Jon settled into the couch cushions, a warmth running through his chest as he watched the two spin with each other in a pseudo-dance. Martin sipped his glass of water on the other end of the couch, seemingly as happy as Jon to just watch.

As the song ended, the rock ballad was replaced by a pop song, one Jon didn’t know but it was apparent everyone else did. Tim sang along in a horrendous shout-sing, and Sasha grabbed Martin’s hand, tugging on it lightly. Martin rolled his eyes, resisting briefly as Sasha wordlessly argued with him, but her will was stronger and he laughed softly as she pulled him to his feet and jumped around to the beat, air-guitaring in circles around him. Eventually, Martin closed his eyes and leant into the dance, reminding Jon vaguely of his club days with Georgie, the dozens of hot, sweaty young adults without a care in the world of who saw them dance. And, most importantly, dance badly. Martin was truly terrible, but Jon was unable to tear his gaze away. He wasn’t matching the tempo and he knew about half the words as he joined Tim in singing the chorus, but there was something about him that was absolutely intoxicating, more than the wine Jon had consumed.

The Beatles played next, and of course Jon knew them. They had been his grandmother’s favorite, and for good reason. He hadn’t even realized he was singing under his breath to Come Together until Tim’s TV remote was shoved under his lips unceremoniously. Without thinking, he accepted the faux-microphone and joined the trio, standing from the couch to the coffee table in socked feet. As he sang, voice growing in intensity, he swung his arms wide, the images of clubs and dancers and stages at the forefront of his mind.

When the song ended, Jon was breathless, and the smattered applause from his friends brought him out of his reverie. He blushed, suddenly acutely aware of the blood rushing through his body and the heart that was pumping it. he handed the remote to Tim and moved to step off the table, chewing on his lip as he did so. Before he could make the awkward step to the floor below, he yelped as he was suddenly swept off balance. The spinning of his mind, thanks to the alcohol, confused him briefly before he realized he hadn’t fallen and was actually being clutched in a pair of strong arms, bridal-style. Martin’s arms, to be precise. His brow was furrowed in concentration, though he held Jon like he weighed almost nothing.

“Ah, you said you didn’t want to fall.” Martin shrugged and bounced Jon in his arms slightly as if that explained everything.

He had? “Mmm-thank you Mar’n,” Jon murmured, eyes unsure where to land and deciding on a loose curl that hung over Martin’s forehead. He wanted to pull it, Jon realized, and he did so, gently, giving the coil a tug, and giggled to himself as it sprang back in place. Martin was a lot stronger than Jon gave him credit for, and warmer too, though that may have been the alcohol. It was nice, being held like that, and Jon felt himself nestle towards the heat of Martin’s barreled chest without thinking about it.

Tim and Sasha, to Jon’s relief, hadn’t seemed to notice, deep in conversation. Martin deposited Jon safely on the couch and slumped next to him, unbuttoning his collar a little more and turning his attention quite intently to his phone.

The music carried on, and Jon was pulled into a few more dances with Sasha and Tim but felt himself gravitating towards Martin as the hour pursued, making excuses to scoot closer on the couch. A few videos of kittens later, he was properly next to him, watching Tim and Sasha tango to Britney Spears and the clock that ticked steadily towards midnight.

As 11:50 hit, Tim lowered the volume and flopped next to Jon, sweat beading on his forehead. “Alright, mates, resolutions for 2015, go.” He popped a grape from the platter that rested on the chair nearby. “Mine’s to get outside more, I haven’t been able to get out of London much. Maybe go backpacking, see the world.”

Sasha shrugged and perched on the armrest of the couch, feet resting on the cushion next to Tim. “Patience, I think. Listening to people better.”

Jon surprised himself by speaking. “Work-life balance,” he mumbled, dragging his eyes from the coffee table to meet Tim’s curious expression. “It’s not like Elias cares much what the researchers do.”

“Hell yeah, mate!” Tim clapped him on the back. “Maybe you’ll finally come dancing with me. You’ve clearly got the skills.” He turned his attention to the final member of their party. “Marto? What about you?”

Martin shrugged, lips pursed in thought. “Mm, be more honest with people, I think.”

Tim nodded excitedly. “Oh yes, I would love to see Martin Blackwood, The Director’s Cut.”

The ginger shrugged. “I don’t think you’re missing much, honestly, just maybe a little more negativity, a little more feeling.”

“Regardless,” Tim waved the thought away. “Can’t wait to see it.” He cast his eyes to the ceiling and crossed his arms under his chest. “What do you think the illustrious Elias Bouchard does on holiday? I swear that man lives and breathes Magnus Institute.”

Sasha grinned. “Bet he wears nothing but a silk robe, with the Magnus owl embroidered on the chest, skulking around the house and drinking scotch, grumbling about budgets and paranormal stories.”

“Bet he has a cat he strokes menacingly while watching the stock market,” Martin added, sighing. “We can agree he’s a total Tory, right?”

“Oh, for sure,” came a chorus of affirmation.

The group sat in comfortable silence as an upbeat love song played on the television. Jon’s eyes were starting to feel heavy, like how they felt when he got them dilated at the optometrist. Midnight couldn’t come soon enough.

“Hey, guys?” The voice from his right was quiet, hesitant. Martin’s eyes were glassy, phone abandoned on his lap. “I’m really happy to be here, with you all.”

“Martin!” Sasha and Tim cooed happily, rushing to coat his words in affirmations and gentle kindness, sweet gifts with which to end the year. Jon opted for a quieter approach, not the verbally affectionate kind of man, placing a hand over Martin’s gently, squeezing his wrist once. He wasn’t even sure if Martin noticed it—he didn’t move his hand before Tim was shouting, hauling them up as 11:59 flashed on the screen and a countdown began to shout its way from 59 on the screen.

“Come on!” Tim crowed. “My mum always said you can’t stand still when midnight hits, or it’s bad luck. Something about starting the year moving.” Tim led them all in a sort of march, stomping forward and back, spinning in circles, and swinging each of his friends under his arms, though Martin had to duck rather considerably. All four of the research staff members were laughing through their words as they tried to add their discordant shouting to the last few numbers on the TV.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Tim grabbed Sasha around her waist and dipped her low as he kissed her, both grinning into the kiss. Jon chuckled and shook his head at the pair, before feeling the hand that was still on his tug gently.

“I-I said I wanted to be more honest,” Martin murmured, voice low in his throat. Jon nodded wordlessly, indicating for him to go on. His words seemed caught somehow.

“If I’m honest,” Martin continued, eyes flitting over Jon’s face before landing back on his eyes. “I really want to kiss you.”

Jon giggled, actually giggled at Martin’s words, the boldness of the wine piloting his voice for a moment. “What are you waiting for?”

So Martin did, one hand on Jon’s waist and one tangled in the hair behind his ears, pressing Jon close and up towards his lips. It was a warm kiss, soft and gentle, and Jon’s head was spinning, not from the buzz or the dancing but from the four points of contact he had with MartinMartinMartin Blackwood is kissing me and Martin’s hand is on my waist and my hand is on Martin’s cheek and his skin is so soft I think I could kiss him forever. Screw 2015; I’ll come back for 2016 and just kiss Martin for a year—

Martin pulled away, smiling down at Jon with a look of utter adoration. “Happy New Year,” he breathed. “Here’s to 2015.”

“H-Happy New Year,” Jon returned, ducking his head shyly at the gaze Martin was casting on him. “Let’s hope it’s a good one.”

[fangirlfics]

Westview p2 (Peter Maximoff x reader)

this is the funniest gif and you can’t change my mind 

summary: Peter explains Westview to y/n and attempts to bring her memory back

whenever I write Westview I find myself thinking I meant to write Westeros lol

word count: 1,470

“You’re telling me that Wanda, my best friend is mind controlling an entire town and gave me false memories?“ y/n asked the silver haired boy in front of her. “And they tell me I’m crazy...“

“I’m being serious.“ ‘Pietro’ tried, “you’re smart and you already know somethings off, right?“

“I’m sorry?“

“This-“ Peter gestured around the room before lowering his voice, “doesn’t feel right does it? It feels fake, staged. I know you feel it too-”

“I-” 

“And don’t say you don’t-I can tell when you’re lying, you scrunch up your nose.“

“How could you possibly know that? We’ve just met!“

Peter sighed “I have to figure out how to reverse this...I don’t look familiar to you at all?“ y/n shook her head.

“Ok..“ Peter stared at the girl "your favorite color is (insert color), your favorite ice cream flavor is (flavor) and your favorite song is (song name). You can control people with your mind when you touch them, but sometimes you do it on accident when you get emotional and your eyes turn purple and it scares some people but I’m not gonna lie I kinda like-.” 

“What are you talking about?” y/n asked, “that’s ridiculous! I-”

Peter didn’t listen as he continued further down his list. “We’ve been dating for two years but we’ve known each other for half of our lives, your middle name is-”

“Why do you know so much about me?“

“I told you I know you, your favorite book is-“

“Just stop..talking!“ y/n suddenly called out taking a step back-she felt a small surge of some feeling and suddenly Peter stopped talking, his mouth kept running but no noise escaped it. He put his hands to his mouth and y/n looked away-Peter began to talk again. 

“See you just-“

“You’re playing with me, cut it out!“   

“y/n I swear on my stash of twin-“

The back door opened and closed abruptly making the two adults flinch. “Sorry..” Wanda apologized making a cringed facial expression, “Agnes kept me there longer than I’d expect, you know her she’s such a gossss.ip..” She froze seeing how Peter was all up in y/n’s face. “Gee I’m gone for not even 10 minutes and you’re already all over her!” She walked up to the two, putting a hand on y/n’s shoulder to escort her out of the kitchen, “come on, don’t pay attention to Pietro or he’ll go chasing after you!” She turned to her ‘brother’ waving an accusing finger at him, “and you back off of my friend, she’s barely spent a day in this town.”

“What?” y/n asked, catching Wanda’s words quickly.

Wanda’s face fell but only for a moment because she soon was her smiling self again, “I said you’ve barely spent a day with him!” She laughed, “come on, let’s go get the boys and head out!”

From behind Wanda y/n noticed Peter gesture to his head then make a hand motion by wiggling his fingers around. 

 It felt like the day had moved on rather quickly, with the boys finishing their trick or treating and then Wanda disappearing then claiming to have never left, the walk back felt like the only normal part of the day. y/n hadn’t even seen Vision until she got back to Wanda’s house to drop off the costume she had lent her, he seemed like something had been bothering him and was in the kitchen while Wanda wasn’t home yet having continued to roam the neighborhood with her sons unlike y/n-who decided to call it a night.

She was just about to leave the house, having changed into a normal outfit when a random thought had crossed her mind. “Hey Vis-” she turned around, jumping at the sight of Wanda’s husband who was standing directly in front of her. Half her name had just came out of his mouth too as he froze. “Yeah?” She asked her friend’s husband.

“Terribly sorry,” he apologized, “but if I could just-” he reached his finger’s towards her face, making her furrow her eyebrows until his fingertips lightly touched her temples and suddenly everything came flooding back at once. 

She froze for a second before looking around the house to take in her surroundings, “where’s-what? I-” Vision watched her, not knowing how to respond to her increasing anxiety. “She was in my head..” She told Vison.

“Who was?”

“Wanda!” y/n looked around again, “she’s in everyone’s head, she’s controlling everyth-Peter! I have to find Peter! That’s why I’m here, that’s why I came-”

“y/n please calm down,” he reached out again to place his fingers against her temples once more and she put her hands up in defense,

“No! I’m not doing that again, your wife is crazy! Stay away from me!”

“I don’t understand, why would she take an entire town hostage?”

“Because she needs therapy of something, now I’ve got to go-”

“y/n-”

“Oh and one more thing...” y/n said looking Vision in the eyes, she took his forearm before adding in a hushed voice, “forget this conversation happened.” He blinked blankly before sitting down and reaching for the tv controller. “Well goodnight y/n, thank you again for accompanying Wanda and the kids.” He said as if nothing happened. 

“No problem.” y/n said with a fake smile before leaving the house, she was going to look for Peter. Closing the door she jumped once more at the sight of Wanda and her sons, “Wanda! I-”

“Oh you just dropped the costume off didn’t you?” Wanda asked enthusiastically, “thank you! I was just going to bed!”

“Yeah me too.” y/n lied, “all that walking really tired me out.” 

“Yes me too, well you should come over in the morning we’re making waffles!”

“Ok yeah, thank you.”

“Thank you, the boys loved your company and I did too!” Wanda smiled, “see you later!”    

“Yeah, later...“

After Wanda and the boys said their goodbyes and the door closed behind them y/n dashed across the grass, ready to get back to her ‘house’. From there she could look for her walkie talkie and look for Peter. A million thoughts were running through her mind on her way to her fake house. Where was Peter? Why wasn’t he with Wanda? Did something happen? How was she going to find him in this town? Would she still be able to contact Hank? She unlocked her door-pushing it open and letting it’s knob bang loudly against the wall. She was about to shut the door when a blue streak appeared with Peter in front of it, he was no longer in his Halloween costume-instead he was sporting the same look he had this morning. The only difference was that he didn’t appear as energetic-instead he looked worn and his eyes were sad-something that was quite unusual for the boy. 

“Look...” he said putting his hands in front of him, “just hear me out, ok I just realized that showing up at your house might come off as creepy but I promise I-” y/n quickly scanned the street area behind him before reaching for his arm and pulling him into her house-slamming the door shut. “Whoa, I did not expect-” 

“I remember!” y/n announced. “Vision-he did this weird-”   

“You remember me?“ Peter asked her, “what’s my favorite color?“

“Obviously silver.“

“Favorite band?“

“Pete, it’s me.“ She assured him, bringing her hands to his face. After realizing she was really back and without the fear of being unrecognized, Peter threw his arms around the girl, pulling her into the longest and tightest hug she had ever gotten.”Hey it’s me. I’m here.” y/n whispered, running her fingers through his hair.

“You have no idea how much you scared me.“ 

y/n backed up, her face softening even more at the sight of her loving boyfriend, “Peter why are you crying?“ She asked him, brushing her thumb over his newly escaped tear.

“Someone must be cutting onions...“ He joked, but y/n didn’t laugh. “I-I still don’t understand this whole illusion thing...“ he began to explain, still not letting go of y/n. “and I didn’t know if your memories were just being messed with or if you were brainwashed and I..“   

“What?“

“You didn’t even recognize me, it was like...you’re the most important thing in my life and you just looked right through me and I-“ he started getting choked up again, “I didn’t know if it was going to be permanent and you were just never going to remember me...“

“Oh Peter, no, of course not. I’m never forgetting you-not even the world’s most powerful mutant can make me forget you.“

“Didn’t seem like that.“ He laughed nervously.

“Peter, I’m here.“

[storiesbybea]

Toil and Trouble (wlw Wandavision smut)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Agatha Harkness

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: Smut (oral sex, fingering, kissing) & possible Wandavision spoilers (if you haven’t gotten past s1 ep6)

Summary: After Agatha’s secret witch lair collapses on them, Wanda tries to use mind control to convince her they are friends who need to work together to escape. But when Wanda accidentally triggers the wrong hormone in her brain, Agatha thinks they are a little more than friends.

A/N: I know it sounds sketchy with mind control elements, but everything in this is completely consensual! This is my first fanfiction - but not my first erotica ;)

Agatha finally had Wanda Maximoff exactly where she wanted her - tied up in her secret witch’s lair. She had been preparing for this moment for weeks: collecting the fake screams of Wanda’s children to lure her down here, casting the sound-proofing spell Wanda had activated by crossing the threshold, and preparing the runes that prevented Wanda from accessing her magic. All meticulously planned with no way of going wrong. 

“Just admit it, Wanda. I got you this time.”

Wanda spit a stray piece of hair out of her mouth and stared daggers into Agatha. 

“Never.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” Agatha cackled as dark magic collected around her hands. She waved her hands, pulled Wanda’s hands behind her back and magically restrained her. Wanda let out a cry. “Scream as much as you want,” Agatha said, “no one is going to hear you.”

“Just give me back my children,” Wanda said through gritted teeth. Agatha cackled again, louder this time. 

“Your kids aren’t here, Wanda. I collected those screams a week ago.”

“Then where are they?” 

“How should I know? I thought mothers were supposed to keep track of their children. You’re not a very good mom, are you?” 

Wanda thrashed against her restraints and shouted obscenities at Agatha, who merely smiled. 

“Someone’s a little sensitive towards other people’s perceptions of their parenting style,” Agatha quipped, “Let me help with that.” She flicked her wrist and threw Wanda against the wall. Wanda cried out in pain, then was violently dropped to the ground.

“Bet you regret mind-controlling a town with a witch like me in it, don’t you?”

Wanda regained her composure and looked directly at her captor. “My only regret is not changing your hair while you were under my control. Those highlights are atrocious.”

Agatha narrowed her eyes and levitated Wanda off the ground.

“You’re about to have one more regret,” she said. Then, she pulled Wanda toward her so forcefully that she crashed through a load-bearing pillar. In an instant, the entire cave collapsed around them. 

Wanda coughed and rubbed the dirt from her eyes. Her magical restraints were gone. Perhaps the runes had been damaged by the falling rubble as well? She decided to give it a test, focusing her energy on her right hand. A tiny circle of magic emitted from her palm. She smiled, but this was still a mere fraction of what she was normally capable of. Then, she noticed Agatha lying next to her, unconscious. There was no way out of the wreckage alone, not with her magic still mostly suppressed. But if Agatha woke up, she would undoubtedly try to destroy her again. If only Agatha didn’t know they were enemies...

Suddenly, Wanda got an idea. She gently laid her hands on Agatha’s head and focused as hard as she could. Though the connection was weak, she could feel Agatha’s brain waves shifting. Wanda found all of Agatha’s memories and went to work erasing the ones indicating they were anything less than chums. She also decided to give her an extra shot of dopamine, for good measure. Then, she gently shook Agatha’s shoulders and whispered for her to wake up.

Agatha opened her foggy eyes and turned to Wanda. 

“What happened?” she asked.

“Your lair collapsed on us.”

“What? How?” Agatha asked. Wanda bit her lip. 

“Uh, there was a big earthquake.”

Agatha scoffed and put her hand on Wanda’s forearm. “This is New Jersey, dummy. There are no huge earthquakes here!”

“That’s what I thought, too. But then one happened and now we’re stuck here.” 

Agatha sat up and looked deeply into Wanda’s eyes. “Well, there’s no one I’d rather be stuck here with,” she said tenderly. Then, she leaned in and kissed Wanda on the lips. Wanda froze, but accepted the kiss. She had stimulated her dopamine receptor, right? Agatha pulled back and smiled. “I’ll never get over how good your lips taste.”

Wanda had to consciously keep her jaw from dropping to the floor. That definitely was not her dopamine receptor. Agatha traced her fingers down Wanda’s arm and she shivered from the contact. She had to tell Agatha what happened. 

But Wanda stopped herself. There was no way Agatha would react kindly to a botched mind control attempt from her nemesis. And right now, Agatha was the only one with enough power to get them out of here. 

Wanda took Agatha’s hand and kissed it. “I feel exactly the same,” she said, “But we should probably try to get out of here.”

“In case there’s an aftershock!”

“Exactly, in case there’s an aftershock. Why don’t you try using your magic to move the rubble?”

Agatha booped Wanda on the nose, “You are definitely the smart one in this relationship.” Wanda had to restrain herself from laughing. 

Agatha took a moment to focus herself, then threw her arms out dramatically. Nothing happened. She tried again. Nothing still. One more attempt, even more forceful than the others. Nothing. Agatha frowned. 

“I guess my magic doesn;t work anymore.”

Wanda nervously laughed and shook Agatha by the shoulders. 

“No, they have to work. Because otherwise we’ll never get out of here!”

“Can’t we just scream and wait for the first responders to dig us out?” Agatha said. 

“That’s a great idea. Unfortunately, you hexed your lair and now it’s sound-proof.” Wanda slid her face into her hands. 

“Why did I sound-proof the lair?” Agatha asked. Wanda popped her head up.

“Uh, you mean you don’t remember?” Wanda asked. Agatha shook her head. “We were, uh, going to celebrate our anniversary? So you, uh, sound-proofed the lair because we were gonna, uh...”

“Oh! We were gonna--” Agatha rubbed her hands together suggestively and winked. Wanda nodded her head.

“Exactly, we were gonna do that and you were worried about the neighbors.”

“You are quite a screamer,” Agatha said as she patted Wanda’s thigh. 

“Uh, yeah.” 

It was at this moment that Wanda realized Agatha was shivering.

“Are you ok?”

“It’s so cold,” Agatha replied through chattering teeth. Wanda realized she was shivering as well. 

“How is it so cold? It’s July.”

Agatha gasped. “The collapse must have triggered the frost hex.”

“F-Frost hex?” Wanda shouted.

“Yeah, I put it in after some of the neighborhood kids tried to break in here. If only my magic was functional, I could reverse it.” Agatha looked to her expectantly, but Wanda didn’t notice. The cold was getting to her. She could feel it in her bones; her teeth were chattering so loud that it made her head pound. She had experienced some brutal winters in Sokovia, but nothing like this. 

“We should hold each other,” said Agatha, “For warmth.” 

Wanda put her arms around Agatha and held her close. She smelled like witch hazel, which Wanda found funny and a bit on-the-nose. But it smelled really good. Agatha’s hair was long and warm. Wanda buried her face in it. The immediate warmth felt incredible on her shaking lips. 

Despite the frigid cold, both Wanda and Agatha felt a considerable amount of heat between their bodies. They pulled each other as close as they could, each desiring to consume the other’s warmth. Wanda nuzzled further into Agatha’s soft hair, and Agatha took her freezing hands and slid them down the back of Wanda’s shirt. Her back was burning hot, and Agatha dug her fingers into Wanda’s warm skin. Somehow they both managed to fall asleep, huddled together through the frosty night.

Agatha was the first to wake. Wanda was nuzzled against her neck. She was still shivering. Agatha slowly removed her hand from Wanda’s shirt and flicked her wrist to remove the frost hex. The room got warmer immediately. Agatha looked down at Wanda, whose head had shifted and fallen to Agatha’s chest. A small ray of light was shining through the rubble, and it spread across Wanda’s face. She had to admit that Wanda looked angelic, even though she was her nemesis and had tried to mind control her into some disturbing romance. Agatha took her free hand and gently stroked Wanda’s head. There just was something fantastical about Wanda Maximoff. If anyone else had tried to mind control her into romance, she would have annihilated them on the spot. But when Wanda did it, there was something endearing about it all. She really thought she could best her? It was adorable. Wanda was adorable.

While Agatha was looking at her, Wanda woke up. Still a little groggy, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. 

“Why were you staring at me?” she asked. 

“You had a bug on you and I thought it was funny,” Agatha lied. Wanda chuckled.

“And you just let it stay on my face? What if it was poisonous?”

“The only thing poisonous here is your failed attempts at mind control.”

Wanda perked up. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t lie,” Agatha said, rolling her eyes, “I know you tried to take advantage of me with some weird love hex, but my runes limited your magic too much for you to be successful.”

“How did you know?” Wanda asked. 

“You really think I can’t feel intrusions into my own mind?”

“But you were passed out!”

“Yeah, so I was literally trapped in my own mind. That’s like the worst time to try and mind-control someone. Anyone with a basic knowledge of magical theory should know that.”

Wanda gulped. “So what are you gonna do to me?”

Agatha cackled. “Do to you? What do you think this is, a prison?”

“Uh, this all started when you lured me down here and magically restrained me against my will. That’s the definition of a prison.”

“So you think you deserve some kind of punishment?” Agatha asked. Wanda nodded. Agatha sighed and conjured her magical glowing hands. She whipped out her hands and the rocks around her began to shake. Then, with another wave of her wrist, the room was restored to its original formation. 

“Why did you do that?” Wanda asked.

“Well, I was planning on betraying you and locking you in here for all eternity, but I decided against that. You’re free to go.”

“Why are you letting me go?” Wanda asked, even more surprised.

“Why did you try to put a romance hex on me?”

“I didn’t do that! I was trying to make you think we were friends, not lovers!”

Agatha blushed furiously and Wanda almost wished she hadn’t said anything. She grabbed Agatha’s hand. 

“Why did you kiss me yesterday?” Wanda asked. Agatha blushed even more.

“I was playing the part.”

“Yeah, well you could have played the part without kissing me,” Wanda said shyly. Agatha looked intently at the ground.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you,” she admitted. Wanda tilted her chin towards her. 

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“What?”

“What are you waiting for? Do it again.”

Agatha wasted no time in pressing her lips to Wanda’s. They were soft and full; it was like kissing her rabbit’s fluff. She pulled Wanda close to her and felt her breasts press against her chest. Wanda took her tongue into Agatha’s mouth and they wrestled each other for control of the kiss. After a few minutes of passionate tongue fighting, Agatha finally won, just barely. 

“I want to taste you,” she whispered into Wanda’s mouth. Slowly, she pushed Wanda backwards and leaned her against her large cauldron. Agatha began tenderly kissing and sucking along Wanda’s neck, then down her chest, in between her breasts, and down the center of her stomach. Wanda eagerly unbuttoned her pants and Agatha slid them to the ground. 

Agatha placed her palm on Wanda’s mound and moved it up and down. Wanda leaned her head back in pleasure and spread her legs further apart, begging Agatha to go further. Agatha separated Wanda’s lips with her fingers. She had the tiniest clit she had ever seen. Then, she took two fingers and tried to slide them into Wanda, but she wasn’t wet enough yet. 

“I have just the thing,” Agatha said as she popped up and ran to her potions table. She threw some ingredients into a small wooden bowl; there was a loud pop and a cloud of purple smoke. She rushed back to Wanda and dipped her fingers in the potion.

“What is that?” Wanda asked. 

“It’s a lubrication spell. I’ve never had to use it before. But there’s a first time for everything,” she said with a wink. Then, she spread Wanda’s legs and entered her with her slippery fingers. Wanda immediately threw her head back.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed. Agatha smirked and slowly slid her fingers in and out of her while Wanda squirmed and squealed. As Agatha picked up the tempo, she brought her mouth to Wanda’s clit and engulfed it with her tongue. Wanda nearly screamed. 

“You’re really good at this,” Wanda said between gasps. Agatha looked up at her.

“Well, when you’ve been alive for over 300 years, you learn a thing or two,” Agatha said before she forcefully flicked Wanda’s clit with her tongue. 

Wanda felt the pleasure building up inside of her. She tried to hold it back, but it was too powerful. She was helpless against the force of her own climax. When it finally overcame her, she exploded. As the waves of ecstasy passed over her, she felt restored.

When she had regained herself, Wanda picked her pants up from the floor and slid them back on. She looked down at Agatha, who was still on her knees. 

“Your turn.” 

Then, she pulled Agatha up, kissed her passionately, grabbed her hands, and held them behind her back. Agatha pulled away from their kiss. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, suspicion and intrigue coating her voice. Wanda gave her a devilish grin and tried casting a restraint spell. To her surprise, it actually worked. 

“I see you’ve cancelled the runes. That was a mistake,” Wanda said. She used her magic to pull Agatha up into the air. “Oh, and I hope you like the cold,” she said before she reactivated the frost hex. 

“I thought we were ok now!” shouted Agatha. Wanda cackled. 

“I will never be ok with someone who collected my childrens’ screams.”

And with that, Wanda turned to the exit and left Agatha to her fate.

[cherrycheolcoups]

Please please would you do a one shot that take place in season 3 episode 20. And the reader is jealous and hurt of hotch being close to Kaye Joyner and getting mad when he takes his side over Morgan's. They could already be in a relationship or not. if you would like. :) thank you

hey, anon! thanks for requesting! i wasn’t sure if you wanted it to be fem!reader, male!reader or gn!reader so i went ahead and chose gn!reader. i kind of got carried away and it became longer than i was intending, but i hope this is to your liking. enjoy! :)

pairing: aaron hotchner x gn!reader

You were at your desk doing some paperwork while trying to ignore Morgan when JJ had came and said there was a case. Getting up, you and the rest of the team made your way to the conference room where the team was usually debriefed of the case. However, as soon as everyone walked in, Hotch had said, “Don’t get comfortable. There’ll be time to debrief on the plane” without even turning around to look at anyone. Clearing your throat a little bit, you look to your boyfriend. “Where are we headed, exactly?” You asked, Hotch still having yet to turn around from the screen where a clip of the murder was playing. “New York,” he had simply answered.

Rossi then spoke up. “5 shootings in 2 weeks. It’s about time we got the call.” You see he finally turns around and looks at Rossi for a moment before looking to Emily when she asks a question. “What do we know?” “All the killings are mid-day. Single gunshot to the head with a .22,” Hotch had answered. “Any witnesses?” JJ pipes up and asks, her hands on her hips. Shaking his head a little bit, Hotch tells her no before looking to Reid when he starts to speak up. “.22-caliber pistol’s only 152 decibels. New York streets and subways are routinely well over 100. It could be people aren’t even registering the gunshot until the unsub’s already leaving the scene.”

You look to your right and listen to Morgan when he says, “They sound like mob hits.” Then, you look to your boyfriend when he responds. “Except none of them have ties to organized crime.” “Do they have any connection to each other?” Emily asked. “None they’ve found,” Aaron told her. “How about communication with the police? Has the unsub tried to make contact?” Morgan asked next. Aaron turns to look at the screen as he answers. “Surveillance cameras have captured video of 3 of the murders. This is the latest,” he says as he clicks a button on the remote and a video comes up on the screen. “That’s the best image they have?” JJ asks Hotch. “They’re all the same. He wears a hood and keeps his head down,” Aaron answers. Emily begins to speak. “This guy’s bold. Crowded areas, broad daylight.” Rossi furrows his brows a bit as he asks, “So they’re completely random?” “It seems that way,” Hotch says. You sigh softly and cross your arms over your chest. This whole thing just gives you a bad feeling.

“Son of Sam all over again,” Reid said. “Wheels up in 30,” you hear your boyfriend say as he then exits the room, probably to go back to his office and grab his go bag. You and the rest of the team all start to pile out of the room as well. Everyone returned to their desks to retrieve their go bags. Derek got hit and said he was going to get Garcia, to which everyone simply shrugged. After you got your go bag, it was time to board the jet. Once on the jet, you chose to sit next to Emily. Besides Aaron, she was the person you were closest with on the team. Though, to everyone else, Emily was the only person you were closest with. None of the others knew about you and Hotch. Well...except maybe for Rossi if the way he looks at you and Aaron sometimes is anything to go by.

You look to the entrance of the plane when you hear Garcia’s voice. “How come I only get to travel with you guys like once every 2 years?” Derek was the next one to talk. “Trust me, Mama. It can get old.” Garcia moved to sit one sit in front of JJ as she turned and set her bag in the chair behind her as she answered. “Oh, right. Like the way that spa treatments in 5-star hotels can get old,” she had said. Emily piped up while looking at Morgan. “Remember the time we got on board and they hadn’t chilled the cristal?” Morgan looked at Prentiss and answered. “Ooh. I almost quit the B.A.U. that day.” This encounter made you laugh some. It was nice when you guys got to joke around for a moment before remembering where you were. You notice Hotch looking at you from the corner of your eye, though you weren’t going to give in and return his stare. Rossi was sitting right in front of Aaron after all. 

Garcia stood and looked at Derek. “You know what? You guys can joke all you want ‘cause I am never leaving this plane.” This made you smile to hear how Garcia just loved the plane. You smiled at Emily when she nudged your shoulder with her own once she sat down. Turning back to look at Hotch, Rossi, and Reid, you turn serious once again. “The victims?” You hear Rossi ask as he sets the photos down on the table. “Each killed in a completely different neighborhood. Hell’s Kitchen, Murray Hill, Lower East Side, Chinatown, East Harlem,” Aaron told Rossi, though looking at all of the team. “It doesn’t make any sense,” Reid says with a shake of his head. “There’s no common victimology, no sexual component, no robbery, no geographical connection. Do the police have any leads?”

“He’s killing roughly every 2 days. The press is having a field day, and it sounds like the mood on the street’s getting pretty edgy,” Aaron spoke as he leaned forward a little bit. “It’s a joint FBI-NYPD taskforce?” Rossi asks. Aaron simply nods his head before answering. “Kate Joyner heads up the New York field office. She’s running point on the case and called me directly,” he says before looking past Rossi and to JJ. “JJ, would you tell them we’re ready to go?” “Right,” JJ says as she pulls her phone out of her pocket. “Kate’s starting to butt heads with the lead detectives and wanted a fresh set of eyes.”

“Joyner, I know her. She’s a Brit, right?” Morgan asked Hotch. “Well, dual citizenship. Her father’s British, her mother’s American. She was a big deal at Scotland Yard before coming to the Bureau.” “I heard she can be a little bit of  a pain in the ass,” Morgan says next. Aaron shakes his head a little bit while looking at Derek. “I didn’t think so.” Emily looked at Hotch. “You know her?” She had asked. At this point, you were a little confused and a little upset, but you couldn’t convey that since you were supposed to be doing a job and the team didn’t know about the two of you, either.

“We liaised when she was still at Scotland Yard,” Hotch told Prentiss. Rossi then asked, “And she’s good?” Hotch looked to Rossi. “I think we’re lucky to have her.” This didn’t sit right with you, but you chose to try and ignore it for now. It was in the past, if anything had happened with him and this Kate Joyner you guys would be seeing. You looked out the window and felt Emily nudge you again. “You okay, (Y/N)?” You nodded your head and gave her a smile. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay.”

A little while later, you guys were now piled into the elevator, going to the floor you needed to go to. Once it dinged and opened, everyone got out, Hotch taking the lead. You were standing with Garcia and JJ, and clenched your jaw when you heard what JJ asked the two of you. “Is it just me or does she look exactly like Haley?” You didn’t want to see it, but there was no denying that Kate Joyner looked like Haley, and that didn’t make you feel any better about hiding your relationship from the team. You watched the two interact. “Kate.” “Aaron. How have you been?” Oh, so on a first name basis? That was not what you had wanted to hear. 

You didn’t want to be jealous. You wanted to give Aaron the benefit of the doubt and come clean to you later if he so chose to do so, but you couldn’t fight the feeling itching under your skin. “Well, thank you. This is my team. Kate Joyner, this is David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, and (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Aaron tells her, pointing everyone out as he said their name. Kate nods. “Thanks for being here. Anything that you need, just tell me. Please don’t stand on protocol,” at this point her voice was just starting to grate your nerves, especially when she was talking to your boyfriend. 

“What can you tell us about the city’s surveillance system?” Garcia had asked. “Um, it’s run by the NYPD. It’s still in the infant stages. It’s been rather controversial. American privacy laws. Um, but they’ve had some success,” Kate had told her. “And I’ll have complete access?” Garcia asked. “They’re already expecting you. Shelley?” During that entire time, you noticed how Aaron hadn’t taken his eyes off Kate. You tried to ignore it, but the thought stayed. Garcia pushed past to go. “I’d like to get a map of the borough. I want to do a comprehensive geographical profile of the area in order to ascertain the unsub’s mental ma before it’s clouded by our own linkage blindness,” you hear Reid say as two detectives walk up and stand next to him. The shorter one remarked, “I see you brought your own computer.” You didn’t like him already. “Detectives Brustin and Cooper. I’ll let you do the introductions,” Kate spoke. 

“You caught the first shooting?” Rossi had asked. “They’ve all been in different precincts. It wasn’t until the third murder that anyone even made the connection,” Detective Cooper had told him. “I guess this is where we play nice and ask you what you need,” Detective Brustin told the team. You really didn’t like this guy and his attitude. Kate let out a little bit of a laugh while she spoke. “I’ll let you all figure out what that is. I just ask that you run everything back through me. It’s been my experience that having one butt on the line is enough,” she says, looking at Detective Brustin who looked away and said, “Yes, Ma’am.” The next thing you saw really made you mad, and at this point there was probably steam coming from your ears. 

You watched as Kate stepped closer to your boyfriend and ask to “have a word with him in private.” “Sure,” was your boyfriend’s response. You crossed your arms over your chest and furrowed your brows. Emily and JJ shared a look with each other. You notice Rossi was looking at you from the corner of your eye. Sometimes, Rossi just knew too much. You watched as Aaron and Kate walked into her office. You didn’t like how close they were standing to each other. It just made your blood boil. “Woah, sweetness. What’s got you all red?” You hear Morgan ask you, to which you sighed and bit your lip, trying to decide if you should just come clean. 

“I...I probably shouldn’t say it here where all these officers could hear, but um...Aaron and I are...seeing each other. And have for some time now,” you told them quietly, making sure no one else was in ear shot. “So that would explain everything, then,” you hear Emily say as she then walked over to you and placed a comforting hand on your arm. “You trust Hotch, right?” She quietly asked you. At this, you gave her a confused look but nodded your head. “Yeah, of course. I trust him with my life.” “Then, okay. There should be nothing to worry about, (Y/N),” she told you. You sighed and nodded your head. “You’re right, Em. I’m sorry,” you apologized while shaking your head. 

A little while later, you were at the next crime scene with Kate, Derek, Detective Cooper, Detective Brustin, and Aaron. During that time, there seemed to be some tension between Kate and Morgan, and you didn’t like how she talked to him. You watch and listen as Morgan looks to Aaron. “You mind telling me why I’m catching attitude from her?” Aaron hesitates for a moment before he answers. “FBI brass has made it clear to her that if she doesn’t bring this case home, she’s gonna be reassigned, and you are at the top of the list to replace her,” your boyfriend explains to Derek.

Derek looks at him. “You’re kidding me.” “Why should you be surprised? You’re good at your job. People notice that,” Aaron told him. Derek turns away for a moment before turning back to Hotch. “What happened to the bureau patting itself on the back for stealing her away from Scotland Yard?” Aaron shrugs a little while shaking his head. “I don’t know. Politics here are different. And you can see she doesn’t pull punches,” Aaron said as he then walked away from the two of you. You and Morgan share a look before sighing and walking away as well. You really didn’t like how your boyfriend was sticking up for Kate the way he was.

After you guys find out there’s more than one unsub, you look at Kate when she asked if there was enough for a working profile. “Broad strokes,” was Rossi’s reply. “Dave, you and Reid talk to the agents here. Morgan, Prentiss and (Y/L/N), brief the police when each shift comes on duty tomorrow,” at Aaron’s demand, you nod your head. Morgan looks at Hotch. “I think we should get out on the streets,” was Derek’s reply. That was when Kate decided to speak to him. “I brought you here to create a profile,” she told him. “Which we can give in the morning, and then they can share it with the afternoon shift,” Derek told her. You really didn’t like how Kate Joyner was talking to Derek. 

“We’ve allocated every extra man we have. This is New York City. It’s not like a few more people is going to blanket the city,” came Kate’s reply. “I understand it’s a long shot, but these guys, they hit at mid-day. We could target Ingress and Egress to particular neighborhoods. Position us near express stops- 14th, 42nd, 59th-” Morgan was saying, but got interrupted by Aaron. “Morgan, it’s not your call,” your boyfriend told Derek with a shake of his head. You rolled your eyes and walked off, not liking how he just took Kate’s side and not Derek’s. 

After being done at the office, you guys went to the hotel. You laughed some at a joke Emily made as you guys walked in, Aaron holding the door for everyone. You guys made your way to the lobby before stopping when Reid motioned for JJ to look behind her. You, Aaron, Emily, and JJ turn around and spot Will. This made you smile. You were always rooting for them. Walking over, you guys look between Will and JJ. Will looks at Aaron and returns his handshake. “Detective,” Aaron had said to him. 

“I’m sorry for showing up like this. I know you’re working. But, um...I can’t stand you being on this case and me not being here, not with what’s going on,” Will told JJ. This made you a little confused. ‘With what’s going on?’ You asked yourself. Aaron tilted his head a little as he looked at Will. “Is there a problem?” He asked. JJ slightly scoffs before turning around to look at the rest of you. “I’m pregnant,” she says. This brought a smile to your face as you pulled her in for a hug, missing the look in Aaron’s eyes as he watches. “We’re so happy for you guys,” you told her, to which she had hugged back and thanked you.

Then you pulled away, still smiling after hearing the news. “I’ve asked JJ to marry me,” you hear Will say. “Will,” JJ had turned around and scolded. “We’re still working out some kinks,” he told the group. Aaron nodded. “We’ll, uh, give you both some privacy.” And with that, your boyfriend had started to walk away until JJ stopped him. “Hotch.” He turned around and looked at her. “JJ, you could have told me,” he said to her, a small smile on his face. “I know,” was JJ’s response. 

You, Aaron, Spencer, and Emily leave the two of them alone and retire to your rooms. You were debating on stopping at Aaron’s, but decided against it. Instead, you went towards Emily’s room, softly rapping your knuckles against the door. A few seconds later, Prentiss opens the door and ushers you into the room. “Hey, (Y/N). Not talking to Hotch now?” She teased. You smiled some and shrugged. “Eh. I was going to...but I’m not sure what to say without getting upset over the whole Kate thing. I don’t want to dump that on him right now. Not while we’re working a case.”

“That’s understandable. But you do know you have to talk about it with him eventually, right?” Emily pressed, looking at you. You sighed and nodded your head. “Yeah...I know.” A little while later, after having a few too many drinks with Emily, your addled brain supplied you with going to Aaron’s room. You hesitated at the door for a moment before knocking. Better now than never, you figured. Almost immediately, the door had opened, as if he were impatiently awaiting your presence. 

“(Y/N)...are you alright?” Your boyfriend asked you, concern and worry etched into his features as he gently pulled you in, shutting the door behind the both of you. “Yeah. I just spent a little time with Emily, not to worry over,” you assured him, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Nothing to worry over? You’re drunk,” Aaron had told her. “Yeah, well...it’s what I needed after today,” you told him. With this information, he studies you for a moment. “What are you talking about?” He asked, confused about what happened to cause you to drink this much. 

“You and Kate. I don’t like it. Plus...the team ended up finding out about us,” you said, yawning some as you kicked off your shoes and laid down on the bed. “That’s what this is about? Kate? You’re not jealous are you?” Aaron asked. At your silence, he scoffed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. You have no reason to be jealous. Nothing’s ever happened between Kate and I and nothing ever will,” he told you. For now, in your current state, it out you at ease.

The next day, you guys were listening to Garcia as she explained that the unsub was getting away. You were beyond frustrated, and so was Morgan. “We could’ve had that guy,” Derek said. Kate spoke next. “Even if we were on that platform, odds are he would have moved on to someone isolated.” At this point, Morgan started raising his voice a little. “Maybe, but it was worth taking a shot.” Kate and Derek looked at each other. “We had every available man on the street,” Kate told him.

Morgan got a little closer to the desk. “And I suggested to you that you use this team,” he had told her. Aaron looked at Derek. “Second-guessing doesn’t do us any good right now,” Aaron told him. “Hotch, how am I supposed to look these cops in the eye and tell them that we’re actually here to help them?” Morgan asked him. “We’re here to present a profile. That’s what we need to do.” Aaron was all too calm about this, you thought. 

“I said to put us at express stops, 14th, 42nd, 59th, and that’s exactly where they hit,” Morgan pushed. “It’s not your place to have this discussion,” Aaron told him. At this, you pursed your lips and watched them. “My place?” Derek asked. “You need to back off,” came your boyfriend’s reply. “We got 7 bodies, man.”

“Which is exactly why we need to stay focused,” Aaron told him sternly. “Focused.” Derek got closer to Hotch. “From where I’m standing, all your focus is on her,” you heard him say, which didn’t surprise you that he would bring this up. “Talk a walk. Now,” Aaron told him. You and Rossi looked at each other. You really didn’t like the tension in the air and quickly walked away, ignoring your boyfriend calling your name. You couldn’t deal with him right now.

You only made it to the door when Aaron had caught your arm, stopping you from going any further. “Let go, Aaron,” you said through gritted teeth, trying your best to not show any other emotion. Really, all you wanted to do was go home and scream and cry into a pillow or something. “(Y/N). Talk to me. You never storm off like that.” “Yeah? Well, my boyfriend also never adamantly takes someone’s side like that,” you spat, shrugging his hand off and leaving the office, getting into one of the SUVs and driving back to the hotel. 

Sometime later, Aaron found himself knocking on the door of your hotel room. “(Y/N). Please open the door. Let’s talk about this. Please...” you hear your boyfriend ask. You sigh and let him in, going back and sitting on the bed while having your arms crossed over your chest. “I know you’re upset with me right now. I know that this might take some time before it passes. I just want you to know that I do love you. And that I truly am sorry for you feeling this way. But please understand we’re not here to over step. Simply to give a profile. This is the NYPD’s investigation. And Kate happens to be the lead. Trust me when I say, nothing is going on between Kate and I. I only want you. Okay?” Aaron spoke softly, his hands encasing yours in his own, his eyes peering into yours the way he always does. 

After thinking about it for a moment, you sigh and close your eyes, the tears finally escaping your eyes as you hug Aaron tightly, burying your face in his neck. Aaron closed his eyes and engulfed you in a hug, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s all going to be okay, baby. I’m here,” he whispered into your ear. You eventually nodded and calmed down some, pulling away from him as you wiped your eyes. “I-I’m sorry...” you told him. Aaron gently cupped your face in his big hands, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Truly,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you took it a step further and pressed your lips to his, just wanting to be surrounded with nothing but him again.

okay so this was way, way longer than i was intending for it to be but i wanted to get some of the dialogue plots from the episode between morgan, kate, and hotch to give that drama that was there between them. but i do hope that you enjoyed and that it was something similar at least to what you were picturing! and thanks again for requesting! :)

[parkmuse]

Ultimatum (M)

Word Count: 10,339 (Reposted) (Wonhopes Masterlist)

Your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

cr.

“I love you so much baby,” He hums, kissing you sweetly on the tip of your nose.

“Shut the fuck up and let’s just get this over with okay?” You groan over the silk sheets, arms laced tightly against the headrest as you get more and more impatient from the restrains.

“I love it when you use your dirty mouth with me,” He grunts, erection getting much more prominent in his blue-red tights.

You roll your eyes, “Jungkook can we just-“

He puts his clothed finger on your lips, shushing you. “Nuh uh uh, you promised you’d call me by my other name.”

You open your mouth to try and chomp on his finger, but he quickly retracts before you can do any damage. You give him a sweet smile when he smirks right back at you.

“…Can we please hurry and do this, Mr. Peter Parker?”

“Noooo Y/N! You’re not supposed to know my real identity yet! Do we have to go over this again? I found out you were trapped here, swoop on in to save the day, you’re shocked and extremely turned on from me saving you and start seducing me, and then I fuck you into oblivion as Spiderman.”

“Yeah but nowhere did you mention I’d be tied to the bed by your stupid fake spider webs-“

“No complaining! You said you’d play along,” He pouts, the spider symbol on his chest jutting out as he crosses his arms.

You only agreed to this because your dumb ass boyfriend begged you nonstop for weeks to fulfill his one fantasy he’d been dreaming of probably almost all of his horny teen life until now. You really didn’t know what the hype was with this superhero roleplay and how it could possibly get someone off, but literally even you brushing your elbow against him by accident can have him up and ready in a matter of seconds. Many instances of accidentally touching him in public led to public bathroom quickies or doing it in the car to which you couldn’t really complain since he would give you a piece of relief as well. This scenario really proved much harder to collaborate with though.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry.” You sigh. Your arms are really starting to hurt and he would probably give you the cold shoulder for weeks if you made him stop now, so the less you talked the quicker you’d get this over with. “Let’s do this spiderboy.”

“SpiderMAN!”

“Okay, Spiderman.” What’s the difference anyway?

“Okay. Now get into position.”

Aren’t you already in position? You can’t fucking move an inch.

You bothered not making any snarky comeback so he can resume. You watched him pick up a thin cloth on the bedside table, slipping on his mask before walking out the bedroom door and shutting it closed.

It’s silent for about a good 15 seconds. Where did he go?

You hear the door creak open and you’re met with his dumb ass masked figure. “Did you forget your lines?”

Even if you can’t see it, you know his face is scrunched up in annoyance by the tone of his voice.

“O-Oh right, sorry.”

He turns and closes the door again.

You clear your voice, “H-Help! I’ve been kidnapped! I’m so scared, I-if someone hot and strong could only come and save me…” You internally curse yourself from agreeing to this bullshit.

You jump in place when the door is kicked open, slamming against the wall.

“Have no fear young broad, your friendly neighborhood Spiderman is here!” He hops onto the bed dramatically, crouched and looking around frantically with his hands ready to spit out fake webs to any nonexistent thugs in the room.

“I’ve taken down the 50 guys in the other room with no problem whatsoever, you’re safe now pretty lady.” You try not to burst out laughing at his ridiculous remark, but swallow up your sounds. He moves above you, leaning forward to remove your hands from the laces. Finally.

You’re waiting for him to release you, but he halts his movements. You’re looking at him in confusion until he whispers to you.

“Do the next thing we talked about.”

“Oh…right.” You sigh.

“I was so, so scared, thank you so much for saving me,” You say as dramatically and helplessly as you could muster up.

He gestures you to continue.

“Oh…a-and um, you were like so, so sexy too. How could I possibly make it up to you?” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his hips closer to yours.

“It’s no problem Miss. I don’t need to reap any rewards for good deeds.”

“Great, so if you could just untie me then we can go on our separate ways-“ You start releasing your grip from him but then you hear him huff.

“Y/N,” he whines under the fabric, “You said you’d do this for me.”

“Are you really gonna make me say the next line??” He removes the mask and you see him give you a pout, eyes looking as disappointed as when he missed Stan Lee at Comic Con last year from getting stuck in traffic. He knew it was your biggest weakness, and you couldn’t possibly say no to him after he showed you that.

You groan again, eyes darting away from him as he waits for you to continue.

“Can you help me out with another problem?”

He tugs the mask back on, “Of course, anything for a damsel in distress.”

Fuck this guy.

“Y-You’re making my…my s-spidey senses tingle,” You felt like gagging. “Please, Mr. Spiderman, h-help me out.”

“I can’t possibly leave someone in need like this high and dry, especially a beautiful little seahorse like you.”

“Did you just fucking call me a seahorse-“ Your question was cut short when he brings a hand to your thighs, fingers slowly inches upwards in feather light touches. Your breath hitches in your throat, his other hand already working on unbuttoning your shorts and shimmying them off your hips. He moves downwards and grabs your legs, planting your feet flat on the bed with his hands resting on your knees.

He brings a finger to trace down your clothed slit, sending shivers down your spine. How the fuck could you possibly be turned on after all this? You have no idea.

As he digs a finger deeper along your warmth, you feel your juices soaking your thin lace panties. He uses two fingers to push the fabric to the side, stretching your folds out to get a good look at your already leaking core.

“My my my, I think I’ve found a way to resolve the drought crisis in this town.”

“Oh my god, could you please shut the- oh fuck!”

He dips his head down between your legs, partially lifting up his mask to latch his mouth onto you. He flattens his tongue against you, getting a full taste of your wet juices before nibbling your bundle of nerves. You moan out loud, hands balling into fists as you arch your back and clench your legs around his head.

He pries your thighs open, pushing them flat against the bed as he thrusts his tongue much deeper into you, nose nestling right against your curls.

“F-Fuck, oh my god, Jung-“

“Shhh, my frisky little chinchilla, call me what I want to be called and how we rehearsed,” he hums, nipping lightly on your inner thighs, “And maybe I’ll reward you.”

You have no idea where all these weird ass nicknames are coming from but try your hardest to overlook it, forcing yourself to get back into character for him as much as you hated it. One of his hands are drawing circles on your thighs while the other is slowly prodding at your entrance, ready to take you right where you want to be if you cooperated.

“P-please Spiderman, touch me more.”

“Mmm, yeah? You want more?”

“Yes! Please, give it to me.”

He hums, “Oh yeah?” He removes the mask and looks straight into your eyes. “You want to see how much web this spider can shoot?”

You swear to god you dried up instantly. “Jungkook,” You groan.

“You said you’d play along!”

“Yeah but not when you’re throwing out all you’re dumb superhero puns!” You huff. “Seriously, I think it’s the Sahara down there now.”

He raises a brow at that, scoffing as you see him move his hands to rest on your thighs. He smooths one closer over to your core, his thumb resting directly on your swollen clit, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“Really? You’re not feeling it anymore baby?” He digs the pad of his thumb into you, pressing tight circles that makes you cry out.

“What a shame. I was gonna eat you out for hours and make you cry for my dick so all the neighbors could hear,” He alternates between tracing over your folds and back to your neglected clit that aches for more than just his fingers, “And after I got you all ready for my cock I was really going to fuck you senseless you know.” He licks his lips, probing the tip of his finger at your entrance.

“Watching that pretty little face writhe into the sheets, taking those gorgeous tits into my mouth and make you take it like the good girl I know you are…” You clench over nothing as you whine loudly over that remark. He pushes his finger deep into your cunt, curling upwards and finding your spot almost instantaneously, making you scream his name.

“Pounding into your pussy where I know you love it the most…”

“J-Jungkook,” You whimper as he slowly but harshly presses against the spot that makes you feel like you’re going to explode at any moment.

“Have you begging for my cock and make you cum all night until you couldn’t walk for the next three days,” He hums as you arch yourself into his fingers, attempting to make him go faster.

He pushes your hips down and releases himself from you, the ache in your pussy almost unbearable from the loss of fullness. You slightly tear up from the feeling, looking up at him with your lips between your teeth.

Smirk plastered all over his face he wraps his lips over his wet fingers as he sucks away all your juices. “Mmm,” He tsks, “What a damn shame.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl in the smallest and neediest voice possible, “Please.”

“What is it, baby?” He feigns innocence.

“I need you,” You whimper, “I need you so bad.”

He grunts in response, pretending to think when you knew he loved it when you begged.

“I don’t know, I don’t think you want it enough Y/N,” He says with a sigh, to which you loudly protest.

“No! I want it Jungkook, believe me I want it!” You cry, tears brimming at your cheeks, “I want you to fuck me, make me forget about all those bad guys in the other room. Show them who’s I am, I’ll take it like a good girl Spiderman.”

He tongues his cheek at that, watching you as you spread your legs further to reveal your sopping wet core, completely ready for him. He grunts, reaching to palm himself through his tights as he leans forward to connect your lips. You moan into his mouth, letting him ravage you as his hands explore your body. He hikes your shirt up to your stomach, grazing his fingers over your torso before dipping his fingers under the hem of your bra. He uses his other hand to unclasp them, tossing them aside as he squeezes a handful, making you moan. He disconnects from you to attend to your breasts, kneading and sucking on them as you whimper.

He kisses down your stomach until he reaches where you need him the most. He places a soft, delicate kiss right on top of your pussy, having you writhe from beneath him.

“Call me your daddy.”

“Ahh, there! Wait…I’m, You—what?”  

“You heard me Y/N. Call me your daddy…daddy long legs.” He says it in the most serious expression possible, making you gawk at him. You squeeze his head between your thighs, hoping you could somehow choke his annoying ass to death.

“Are you fucking kidding me Jungkook?!”

He pries your thighs open, dodging your fatal move. “Dead serious. You want this spidey dick or not?”

You throw your head back with a groan, hitting the headboard. More than half the time you don’t get why you’re with this man. Is it really worth all the headaches?

“I’m kidding,” He chuckles. He kisses the inside of your thigh.

“You did good sweetheart, now I’ll reward you.”

Before you can say anything he plunges a finger inside you, lapping up your bundle of nerves as you cry out loud. He reaches upward and massages your breasts, pinching a nipple as he starts to enter a second finger into your tight heat.

“Oh f-fuck! O-oh! Yes, Jungkook!” You moan, wrists burning from the amount of times you pull against the headrest. “Fuck, untie me. I want to t-touch you.”

He doesn’t listen, hands still plunging deeply into your sopping wet core as he laps up the excess. He curls his fingers upwards, making you thrash as he hits your spot relentlessly.

“J-Jungkook, please, please untie me,” You beg, wanting nothing more than just digging your fingers into his brown locks as you grind your hips onto his hot tongue.

You watch as he still doesn’t let up, enjoying every moment of you under submission. You whimper as you look down at him, his erection moments from bursting through the confines of his tights. You see him grinding himself against the bed for relief, rutting his hips harder each time you moan louder for him.

“Baby please, untie me,” You cry, lifting your hips in time to match his thrusts and grind your clit into his wet muscle.

He pulls up, face glistening in all your releases as his tongue swipes over his drenched lips. “I thought you were going to be a good girl for me.”

“I am! I will be, just please, I wanna fucking feel you.” Tears brim your eyes as you give him the best puppy dog eyes you can muster, nails digging deep into your palms that they form crescents. Jungkook knew you hated being restrained when it came to sex and all you wanted to do was grab a fistful of his hair as he worked his mouth against your aching wetness.

“Please,” You beg, “Please baby, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

You knew at the sound of his tone he’s scheming something, but honestly, what could be worse than this?

“Yes, anything!” You groan, hips thrusting upwards to try and get any sort of relief.

“You said it honey bunny.” He kisses your inner thigh and smirks, sitting up and pushing himself off of you making the bed squeak. You watch him curiously as he leans over the side to grab something under the bed. He pulls out a shoebox, placing it beside you two before getting back to sit snugly between your legs again.

“What are you doing? What is that?” You look at him with furrowed brows, getting nervous as the stupid smile plastered on his face gets much wider.

“The best thing man has ever created.” He flips the box open, pulling out an extensively large green neon silicone rod. You stare at the foreign object in his hands, trying to figure out what the fuck it actually was.  

A baton? It didn’t really look like it since the stick got thinner as it reached closer to the tip. Plus, Jungkook was way much kinkier than to buy something like that.

And why is it green? Maybe it’s a peeled cucumber? But Jungkook isn’t that weird to keep it secured in a shoebox under the bed…

Then for some godforsaken reason, it clicked in your head. You didn’t fucking believe it, nor did you seriously want to believe what your boyfriend had ready to use under the bed you two shared almost every night. You immediately tried to squeeze your legs closed but firmly gripped his hips instead.

“Jungkook…are you fucking kidding me?” You said, voice laced in anger and disgust for what he really thought he was going to get away with right now.

He knew that tone anywhere, instantly flipping a switch in his personality to get on your good side.

“L-Look here, my Queen-“

“Don’t.”

You see his shoulders slouch, bottom lip jutting out as his eyes pout along with the rest of his face. “ But Pudding, you said you’d do anything-“

“Jeon,” You cut him off, “If you seriously think for one second that I’m going to let you shove a fucking tentacle dildo up my vagina you have another thing coming!”

Seven billion people in the world. Seven billion you got to choose from.

Seven.

Billion.

And this is who you chose to continue your life with.

You watch him whine above you, crossing his arms like a child that won’t get his way. “But baby, this costed me two paychecks! We can’t let it go to waste!”

“Is that my fault? Where did you even get that thing?!”

“At comic-con last year, duh!”

Of course.

“You could have gotten a comic book, a keychain, a signed photograph, a collectible…and that’s what you chose?”

“This is a collectible! It’s special edition! Look,” He moves to flip a switch on the base of the toy, beaming lights emitting from the tentacle. “It’s Spiderman edition, with blue and red lights. And look at the bottom here.” He shoves the base of the toy toward your face, making you frown in disgust. You see some black scribbling at the bottom, having no clue what he’s even trying to show you.

“What? What are you trying to show me?”

“Stan Lee signed it! The Stan Lee! You know I had to have it since I missed him, but at least I got this now,” He gushes, stroking the signature admiringly as he smiles to himself.

“And okay look, I know we got off on the wrong start with this but I really think you’re going to like all these other features,” He presses, not that you can stop his blabber mouth anyways since you’re literally all tied up. So he continues.

“Look here pickle, there’s a button down here that’ll activate the vibration settings,” He pushes a button at the base and the tentacle comes to life, the tip flopping wildly back and forth.

You flinch, “Jungkook, that seriously would tear my insides up!”

“Sorry that was maxigasm setting,” He pushes a few buttons and the toy slows, gently buzzing from the palm of his hand. “See? So there’s like fourteen different settings you can play around with. And as amazing as that all sounds, that’s not even the best part.” You hate the way he makes it sound, and you knew that this was just going to get much worse.

He turns the toy and you see a red switch, his finger lightly tracing over it. “And here fruit loop, here’s where the show really begins.” He presses the button and before you even comprehend what’s happening, white blobs ejaculate out from the tip of the dildo and onto your thigh, the liquid slowly streaming down your inner legs.

You scream instinctively, thrashing yourself against him. “What the fuck Jungkook?!”

“It squirts!” He gleams, bunny smile spread on his face while the red and blue blinking tentacle vibrator toy spurts out more liquid from its tip.

“Why would you buy that?! I don’t want tentacle cum on me GET IT OFF ME!”

“What? You really don’t like it?” His brows furrow, slight confusion written on his face. “But I even got it strawberry flavored, I know it’s your favorite.” He swipes the liquid from your thighs onto his pointer finger, slowly bringing it to your face. “Here, just give it a taste-“

You kick his face with your heel, throwing him backwards with the toy flying out of his hands and onto the edge of the bed.

He groans from the floor, rubbing his chin as he sits back up to give you an annoyed pout.

“What was that for?!”

“Can you quit being such a weirdo? Can we do something normal for once-“

“Like me fucking your face?”

You roll your eyes at that, but then the perfect idea comes to mind. You quickly cover up your annoyance with a sweet smile, “Okay, sure.”

Jungkook looks at you quizzically, thinking you wouldn’t agree so easily. “For real?”

“Yes, on one condition.” You pull your hands forward from the bed post, “Untie me and no tentacles.”

He pouts hearing your response, but nonetheless you can tell he’s thinking about it. You see him twiddling his thumbs, something he does when he’s deep in thought as he weighs the pros and cons of the situation. You know just the right buttons to push to get your way though.

“Jungkook, baby, you know you want it as bad as I do.” You lick your lips slowly, making sure he gets a good look at your pink muscle. 

“I want to taste your cock so bad,” You whine, arching your back off the bed, “Can I? Pretty please?” 

You saw the glint in his eyes, and immediately you knew you got the hook and sinker. You smile at him when you see him get up from his spot, seemingly making his way to untie you from the bedposts. Victory is not much far from here, and then you can finally give him a taste of his own medicine-

You hear the bed creak from the side, and next thing you know Jungkook is straddling your chest. 

“What are you-” You moan when he grabs your breasts, kneading them and pinching your sensitive nipple.

“You want it that bad huh? It’d be torture if I made you wait any longer,” He pulls his tights down his thighs, exposing his rock hard erection. You can’t help but drool a little over seeing the precum that leaks so deliciously down his cock, unconsciously making you lick your lips once more. 

He grabs your breasts once again, slipping himself in between. You can’t deny how fucking hot this is, watching his face contort in pure ecstasy as he uses you to relieve himself. You both groan at the feeling, your mewls spilling out between your lips as he flicks your nipples with each thrust. It makes you completely forget your proposition just a minute ago.

“Open up for me.” You oblige, sticking your tongue out when he pushes the tip of his warm cock to your mouth. You suckle on it, taking the opportunity to lap up all his precum and take the rest that’s threatening to spill out. He grunts above you, slowly pushing himself further into your tight little mouth.

“Fuck yes, that’s it.”  You relax your muscles, letting him guide his way into you. Your mouth always gets so full, his girth stretching you out in all the painfully right ways. 

“You’re such a good girl, taking me like this.” He’s halfway into you before he pulls back out, brushing his angry tip against your bottom lip. He decides to rest his hands on the back of your head, positioning you the right way for what’s to come. 

“Y/N!” He pushes back into you slowly as to not hurt you, going much deeper than the first time. The tears are already threatening to fall, but you can’t help but love every second of Jungkook whining above you, praising you, falling apart above you. As much as it hurts, you love when he really gets into it, thrusting deeply into your mouth that you feel him almost everywhere inside of you, making you gag all over his throbbing cock. 

“Mmm, yes, ah! J-just like that Sweetheart,” he groans.

Saliva spills from between your lips and down your face with each thrust, your head aching a bit from each time Jungkook braces himself when his tip reaches the back of your throat. You swallow each time he praises you, making you a moaning mess all over his dick.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” He grunts, his balls slapping against your chin, “My cock was made to fuck your pretty little mouth.” He pulls out to let you breathe, tapping his dick against your bottom lip. You stick your tongue out to get another taste of him, making him hum.

“Look at you, so hungry for my cock.” He rubs himself against your cheek, letting you suck on his balls. He groans, pushing himself away from you. You whine at the lost, making him chuckle.

“You can’t sweetheart, I’ll come all over your beautiful face.” He resorts to pressing himself against your breast, the tip flicking your erect nipple. 

“Fuck,” You cry, wanting for him to do nothing more than what he just proposed, “Come all over me Jungkook, please.”

He grunts at your response, grinding himself harshly between the valley of your breasts. 

“As much as I want to, I’d rather fuck you full of my come.” You whimper at his words, your pussy throbbing over nothing as you clench your thighs in attempt to relieve yourself. It doesn’t work though, and what makes matters much worse is when you look up to see Jungkook closing a tight fist below his tip, veins popping from his neck and deep pants spilling out from his mouth above you. He slaps his cock against your chest a few more times, slowly regaining his composure again with a relieved sigh.

“You know, you’re so good to me.” He scoots back enough to lean down and give you a soft kiss, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He moves to the headboard to untie your wrists, releasing you from the fake webs. 

Fucking finally.

You immediately rub your wrists, flinching at the red lines etched into your skin. He grabs your wrists and kisses them, “You good, baby? I didn’t go too far did I?”

Instead of answering you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. He moans into your mouth, letting you sneak your tongue into his warm cavern. Your tongues dance along each others as a fight for dominance, but Jungkook is almost putty in your arms once your lips wrap around to suck on his warm muscle, making him whimper. You take this as a chance to flip your positions, rolling around so you’re straddling him and his head is nestled between the pillows. He looks so fucked out from under you, cheeks tinted pink and sweat running down the sides of his face.

You lean down to pepper kisses down his jawline. “Jungkook,” You whisper as seductively as you can in his ear, “Are you feeling how wet you made me?” He moans when you grind yourself against him, letting out a breathy fuck yes as you continue to suck and nibble on the sensitive parts of his neck. You slip one of your hands down to your core, coating two fingers in your juices before bringing them back up to Jungkook’s plush lips. You sink your fingers into his mouth, humming as you feel his tongue wrap around your digits.

“Do you like that?” He moans around you to tell you how much he enjoys it.

“Do you want more?” You slip your fingers out with a pop, leaning down to kiss him once again. You feel him all over, running your hands up his biceps and guiding his arms slowly above his head in the most subtle way possible. 

“Do you want to feel me? Do you want me to sink down on your cock and fuck you til’ you fill me completely up with your come?” 

“God, yes,” He whimpers, so lost in your dirty talk and you nibbling against his jawline that he didn’t even notice you pinning his wrists above his head. You smile against his skin, 

“Well, you’re just going to have to wait until I’m done with you, bitch.” 

You secure the webs around his wrists, pulling his hands down to settle behind his head.

“What are you-” You muffle him up with his mask that was mindlessly thrown on the bedside counter, making sure it was lodged in there enough that he can’t make a peep.

“You’ve been talking way too much tonight babe, I think it’s time to shut you up.” He squints at that, brows furrowed as he tries to release himself from the webs.

“Nuh uh uh, you’re not going anywhere.” You climb over him quickly, trapping his arms under your thighs. His hands are stuck under his head with the weight of your body over him, not allowing him to move an inch. You wipe his hair out from his forehead, slicking it back from his face to meet his eyes. 

“It’s my turn.”

You pull the mask out of him, not even sparing him a second to breathe when you lower your pussy right onto his mouth. You moan when his tongue meets your neglected clit, relief finally washing over you as you sink yourself deeper into him. He moans, the vibrations racking through you as you grind yourself further into his mouth to feel as much as you can.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” You cry, one hand holding the bed frame to steady yourself while the other has a firm grip in his brown locks. You can hear the dribbling of your juices spilling out from his mouth as he tries his best to capture every drop. He delves his tongue deeper into your pussy, making sure you’re getting fucked by it while you grind your clit against his nose.

“Oh god, yes, Jungkook,” You’re going insane as he thrusts his wet muscle repeatedly into you, your thighs tightening against the sides of his face. You roll your hips into him, mewling as he doesn’t stop pleasuring you from below. As much as you didn’t want to stop, you lift yourself up briefly to let him breathe.

Both of you are panting, eyes boring into each other as you collect yourselves for a moment.

“-get it,” You hear him murmur from below you. 

“What?” You looked at him in confusion, not catching what he said before.

“I said, you’re gonna fucking get it,” he growls, “Just wait.” You’re sure you’re supposed to be a little scared of his threat, but can’t help but think about how fucking hot he looks right now. His jaw is clenched, chin and mouth glistened in you. You swipe a bit from his face and place your thumb on his bottom lip, smearing it nicely over him. His tongue darts out to lick your thumb, making you hum. 

“Don’t worry babe, I know I’m gonna get what I want.” You use your thumb to pull his lip downward, “Open up for me.” 

He complies, sticking his tongue out as your pussy hovers inches above him. You let your juices drip from out of you, groaning as you watch him catch every drop with a satisfied hum. 

“Do you love tasting me?” You hear him hum a god yes before you lower yourself onto him once more, throwing your head back once he starts assaulting your core in all the right ways. Your toes curl in on you as you ride his face, whimpering his name as the headboard thuds loudly against the thin walls. 

“Oh my god, Jungkook, yes, yes, there!” You cry, egging him on further to let you reach your high.

“S-so, ah! Fucking good,” you moan as you continue grinding into his hot tongue, your cries slowly progressing into high pitched screams when he gets himself in deeper than ever before.

“J-Jungkook, Jungkook, g-gonna, ah!” You dig your nails into the headboard when you come, riding your high out as he continues to thrust himself in and out of you. He moves to roll his tongue against your nub, causing you to cry out once more as your hips grow more erratic through your orgasm. The feeling keeps coming in waves, and Jungkook never seizes until your hips slowly come to a halt, pulling yourself off of him as the overstimulation becomes too much to handle. 

You rest your head against his chest, exhaustion washing over you as your eyelids become heavy. You always fall asleep rather quickly after an orgasm, especially after a good one like that. You’re already slowly drifting off to sleep when you hear a loud tear above you, making you flinch. You look up to find Jungkook’s wrists free from the confines of the web, hands slowly moving to get a firm grip on your waist. He’s staring daggers at you, nostrils flaring with his lips in a tight, thin line. 

Fear floods you when you realize you really got yourself in for it. “J-Jungkook,”

You yelp when he flips you over, back hitting the bed. He wastes no time shoving your legs opened, resting himself in between. 

“Wait, baby-” 

You cry when he slaps your clit, rubbing a tight circle with the pad of his thumb. He uses his pointer and middle finger to trace your drenched folds, tsking as he looks up at you with dark eyes.

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” He continues to sink his fingers into your wetness, bringing them up for you to see all your release.

“Taking what you want, then making a mess like this and not even bothering to clean it up. Such a spoiled fucking brat.” 

He moves his fingers to your mouth, pushing them in for you to lap up all your excess. You moan, using your tongue to get each and every drop that he offers to you.

“That’s right, clean your cum off my fingers, nice and clean.” He pulls out with a pop, pushing his hips closer to the back of your thighs. He moves your legs up so that it’s more elevated, then pulls your arms down towards him.

“Hold your legs up and spread yourself.” You listen, not wanting to push his buttons any further. You hold your legs by hooking your arms under your knees, spreading yourself out so that he has the perfect view of your pussy below. He grunts, biting his lip as he takes hold of his raging cock to give it a few strokes. You feel a spark in you ignite once more when you watch him pump himself, teeth caught between his lips as he stares intently at your wetness dripping down to the sheets. He stops himself and grabs hold of your inner thighs, placing his cock right in between your folds. He begins slowly grinding himself against you, pushing forward so his tip brushes against your clit ever so deliciously, making you moan.

He grunts above you, wet squelches echoing through the room as your slickness coats his length each time he ruts into your folds. As good as it feels, you can’t ignore the growing ache of wanting to be filled up by him, to have him ramming his cock into you and making you forget your own name for a few days.

“J-Jungkook,” You mewl, “Fuck, just put it in me!”

“No,” He grunts, “This is your punishment. You’re not getting it so easy this time, Y/N.”

He pushes harder against you, his tip almost being exactly where you needed him to be with each thrust but missing your entrance by literally a hair. Your pussy clenches over nothing each stroke, making you cry in frustration as tears start pricking your eyes. You try to grind back into him to feel more, but the position he has you in makes it impossible.

“P-please, Jungkook, just fuck me,” You whimper below him.

He ruts into you faster, your legs shaking from all the teasing. 

“No.” He pants, “This is what you g-get for being a b-brat.” He looks just as fucked out as you are, and although you know he wants nothing more than to drill you into his mattress, when he’s set on punishing you he keeps his word. You don’t know how long he’ll go on with this, but you’re so desperate you’re resorting for other ways to relieve yourself.

You moan, moving one of your hands to rub your clit. Jungkook shoves your hand away, 

“Don’t even dare, Princess.” 

You groan, hands balling into fists against the bedsheets. You were going insane.

“Jungkook, you have to let me- fuck, do something!” You whimper,  “At least fucking let me touch m-myself.” 

He rolls his hips into you slowly now, but deep and hard enough to have you writhing underneath him. 

“You want to touch yourself that bad? Fine, I’ll let you.” 

You sigh in relief when you hear him say that, reaching for your clit again. He grabs your hand before you reach it, shaking his head. “Not with that. With this.”

He grabs the tentacle dildo that you thought was long forgotten on the edge of the bed, the distasteful neon green filling your vision as he shoves it in front of your face. 

“A-are you fucking serious?” You thought you were done playing his games.

Apparently not.

“Take it or leave it babe, it’s up to you.” His cock sinks deeper into your folds once more, rubbing you in just the right ways. You can feel your orgasm building, but you know you need that little push to finally get you over the edge. 

You can’t believe he gave you this ultimatum. As much as you fucking hated this, you were so desperate that you didn’t have any other choice.

“UGH, FINE!” You groan out loud, grabbing the toy from his hand.

He has the biggest smile on his dumb face as he watches you play with the settings, making sure to avoid the deathly strawberry cum squirting option. You finally find the button that brings the toy to life, vibrating mildly against the palm of your hand. After having an inner battle with yourself that Jungkook is probably never going to let this go but you’re way too fucking horny to even care right now, you slowly bring the toy to your clit. You jerk when it makes contact with your nub, closing your eyes as the vibrations actually feel...really nice.

You play with it a little, moving it around to graze over your clit as you get more and more into the vibrations. You click the button to change it so it goes a bit faster, and after circling it around yourself you find the perfect spot that makes your toes curl. 

“Holy fuck,” You moan, grinding yourself into the toy as Jungkook continues to rub your folds.

“Someone likes this more than she thought she would,” You hear him comment, already seeing the smug smirk on his face but you’re too lost in your own world to care. You continue to circle the toy around you, your clit swelling as Jungkook holds your waist down to keep you from squirming so much. Just as you were really getting into it, the toy is whipped from your hand.

“What the fuck are you- oh!” Jungkook sets the toy at an even faster pace, pushing the toy harshly against your clit that has you a moaning mess.

“F-fuck, oh my god, Jungkook!” You cry, nails raking down his toned stomach.

“Shit, this is so fucking hot,” He grunts, grinding himself harder against you and allowing his tip to brush against the vibrator each time he thrusts, making him whine. “You fucking like that? Want more baby?”

You feel him tracing the toy away from your nub to your lower folds, brushing them against your entrance. Before he can push the toy into you you grab his wrist, halting his movement.

“O-one more move Jeon, and I’ll cut your dick off,” You pant tirelessly. Yeah, you’re desperate and you wanna be fucked, but you’re not THAT desperate.

You hear a small okay from him, bringing the toy back to your neglected clit. You moan, arching your back as he presses the toy against you, circling it around making you see stars. You feel your orgasm coming, and just when you thought it couldn’t feel any better, Jungkook clicks the toy to the highest setting, pushing his cock deep into your tight heat so suddenly you scream. 

“Jungkook!” Your body arches upward abruptly, the toy stimulating your clit intensely while Jungkook’s cock pounds into you simultaneously. All these feelings make your eyes roll back, thighs clenching around the toy and your pussy sucking in Jungkook that he has to stop before he spills into you. He holds you as you come down from your amazing high, peppering light kisses against your jawline. You feel limp, completely exhausted from this whole day that you want to take a 3 day nap. 

The toy continues to vibrate against your clit, pleasure slowly turning into pain as the overstimulation gets too intense.

“Mmm, Jungkook, take it off,” You groan. You see him visibly fumbling with it, pressing the keys but not bothering to take it off.

“Stop messing around and- ah! take it off,” you growl, not wanting to play around anymore. 

“I-I’m trying,” He says, and you feel him attempting to pull the toy off of you but your clit gets pulled with it, making you cry out. You feel the vibrations through your core and throughout your body, all your senses going into overload. The toy rapidly abuses your clit, and Jungkook isn’t making it any better as he basically pinches your nub along with each pull. You fist the sheets, whimpering as you feel another orgasm resurfacing, but the pain mixed with pleasure is almost too much for you to handle. You clench around his cock that’s still buried deep within you, causing him to jerk his hips forward with a moan. He hits your spot with that, pushing you over the edge once again and making you come a second time embarrassingly quick over his swelled cock. Jungkook whimpers as you tighten so deliciously around him, mumbling out fucks as he can’t help but rut himself into you a few times, you crying out his name as you finished riding out your high. 

Once your hips have fallen back down and you’re begging for him to make it stop, he finds the setting on the toy to turn it off. You pant, hair sticking to your face as sweat slides down your temples. 

“W-what the hell was that?” You manage to say over stuttered breaths, trying to muster up the best glare you could in his direction.

You see the slight panic in his eyes, and when he looks up you see him cover it up with innocent eyes and pouty lips. 

“Um, spider monkey...there’s just been a slight little hiccup,” He bites his lip, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“What? What is it?”

“W-well, um, it’s just-”

“Just spit it out, Jungkook.” You groan.

“It’s...the toy, it’s kind of...stuck?” You look down when he says that, seeing the toy still pressed up against your pussy.

“It’s what?” You look at him incredulously, blinking slowly as to process what he just said to you.

“It...one of the suctions on the toy, your...” He stutters, not having to even finish his sentence when you look down again, more intently.

You see your clit lodged into one of the suctions on the tentacle, completely wrapped around it. You scream when you see it, the worst scenarios coming to mind with each passing second.

“Oh my god, no no no-” You take the toy and pull it upwards, but you’re still so sensitive that it pains you so you stop. You try again, but to no avail.

You cry in frustration, throwing your head back into the pillows and covering your face in your hands.

“...B-baby?” Jungkook calls out to you after a few seconds of silence, concern laced in his voice.

“My clit...” You whisper, “My poor, poor clit.” You scream into your hands.

“Y-Y/N, it’s going to be okay-” 

“No it won’t!” You cry, “It’s in there! It won’t come out! You’re going to have to take me to the ER and they’re going to have to cut off my clit in this sex crazed tentacle act!” Jungkook tries to calm you down but you don’t listen and continue your tangent.

“She didn’t even do anything wrong, she just came out to have a good time,” You whimper in your palms, “She didn’t deserve this.”

“She?...Um, okay Y/N, she’s gonna be fine, I’m telling you babe,” He presses, reaching over to grab his phone. “I have a solution.”

“You do?” You look up at him, hopelessness washing away as you watch him tap away on his phone.

“Yeah, I really thought about it once I bought this, and just in case of an emergency I decided to get a warranty,” He continues pushing some buttons on his phone. “The dildo comes with troubleshooting with the manufacturer, I even have an app for it. Isn’t that cool?”

“So you just type in what model the toy is in here, and then it’ll transfer you over to your own personal assistant. And then from here...”

You see him moving the phone horizontally, angling it a certain way. 

“...Then you just take a picture and send it to them, telling them what the problem was. Then they’ll hit us back up in about an hour, and we’re all good-” You kick the phone out of his hand, hitting him in the chin along with it. He groans as he throws his head back, rubbing the spot you clipped him at. 

“Ow!”

“DON’T TAKE A PICTURE OF THIS! Why would you send a picture of my pussy to some rando!?” 

“Y/N, they are trained professionals. Privacy is their best policy. This has probably happened lots of times before-”

“I’M NOT SENDING NUDES TO YOUR DILDO COMPANY!” 

“I don’t know how to help you then,” He huffs, continuing to talk under his breath about how amazing their customer service is and how they would probably send some new products for this mess.

“You know, they’d probably even give me a money back guarantee over this.”

“My fucking clit is priceless Jeon, priceless.” You groan, not knowing what to do. “Fuck, my life is over! What do I even do now?! How do I live?!” 

How do you even tell someone about this? You let your weeb boyfriend mess around with his signature tentacle dildo collectible on you and then a freak accident happened, making you lose a vital part of your body? You’re going to die without your clit. What would people tell your parents at your funeral? How could you even show up to the ceremony, clitless?

“Y/N, stop being so dramatic. You have me!”

“No! That’s not enough!” You huff. His eyes widen and he touches his chest, visibly offended.

“Wow, I can’t believe you just said that.” He purses his lips as he watches you mourn over what you thought was a grave loss, assessing the situation. Having you mope like that is actually making him go soft. He has to fix this quick.

Then an idea pops into his head.

“Okay sweetheart, I think I know how to get this baby off of you.” You watch him pull out and push himself backwards, his face level with the toy. You look at him questioningly, wondering if he’s going to pull some careless act that’ll really have you saying goodbye to your best friend. She’s been there for all your life, all your ups and your downs, and you can’t lose her now after Jungkook’s one stupid act.

“It looks like its lodged up in there pretty good, but I think with enough slickness it’ll slip off.”

“And what are you gonna use?” You look at him, mildly concerned.

He looks at you smugly, “My best weapon.” 

Before you can respond he dips his head down, pushing his tongue to partly wrap around the suction. The sudden contact makes you yelp, thighs wrapping around his head. He uses his hands to keep your legs opened, lapping at the suction to get it more wet. You shudder when you feel the tip of his tongue sink into you, making you grab a fistful of his hair. 

“Jungkook,” You moan, “A-are you sure this is even gonna-ah! work?” It’s hard to concentrate when you feel his lips at your core, his tongue working wonders against you even though he doesn’t mean to. 

“I’m Spiderman baby, I’m always here to save the day. And in this case, my mission is to rescue this clitoris-” You shove his face deeper into your cunt, muffling him up.

“Okay, just do what you gotta do Jungkook and for the love of god, stop talking.”

He mumbles something incoherent, but nonetheless gets back to work. You feel him working against your core, trying his best to soak the area enough to try and slip off the toy. He grabs hold of the toy, slowly pulling it upward but you still feel the pressure of it pulling you with it. The pain gets masked by the pleasure of  Jungkook pressing his tongue against your spot, slowly making your insides tingle with a burning want as you feel your lower stomach coiling for more contact. You instinctively pull his face closer to you, moaning as your hips start slowly grinding into him. He pushes you down firmly, causing you to stop your ministrations.

“Stop moving, I think it’s almost off,” He continues to run his tongue against the base of your clit, making your pussy ache. You try your best to stay still for him, but his mouth feels so good you’re literally on the brink of another orgasm. You try to recount all the weird ass nicknames Jungkook’s been giving you all day, all the superhero puns he’s probably been waiting to say for months on this day, anything that’ll stop you from thinking about his wet muscle working you wonderfully down below. Just as you were repeating daddy long legs in your head, you couldn’t contain the loud moan when he tugs the toy upward a bit harshly, his lips wrapped around most of you as his tongue assaults your nub. You feel it, the wave of adrenaline rushing up just to drown you in a feeling of pure ecstasy. But before you can reach it, Jungkook removes the toy with a pop, whipping his face upwards to look at you with his big bunny smile.

“I did it! I did it! It worked, I told you!” He gushes over himself, “See, I knew I could save you! Spiderman is still as sexy and reliable as ever-” 

You cut off his little praise pitch early by getting up and shoving him down to the bed, crawling up on him to straddle his waist. You lean down to kiss him before he can speak, his lips melting into the kiss as his arms wrap around your waist.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” You kiss him again, “But we’re never fucking do that ever again.” He hums an I guess before you grab hold of his long neglected member, pumping it and making him shudder.

“You still haven’t come?” He shakes his head, cursing as you take one of his nipples into your mouth. You lightly suck on it, earning a moan from him.

“Well, even though it was your fault from the start you ended up fixing it, so I guess I owe you one.” You use that as an excuse when you’re really desperate to feel him inside you at this moment. You lift yourself up to line yourself with his cock, already ready for him from his previous actions. 

You sigh as you feel his tip pressed against your entrance, “How much do you want this?”

“So bad, fuck, so bad Y/N.” He practically whimpers, giving you a spike of pride that you could make him act this way.

His cock slowly spreads your walls as you sink down, filling you up so well that your legs feel numb. 

“Ah! Shit, you’re so-god, so-mm, good.” He mewls.

“Mmm, yeah?” You take him inch by inch, his moans encouraging you to keep going as you finally bottom out, sitting on him snugly as you savor the moment you’ve been waiting for all day. You grip his hands that are secured against your waist and start moving, your moans synchronizing with each time you move up and down his length.

“Y-you’re so fucking tight,” He groans, nails pressing further into the skin of your hips, “So fucking warm.”

“Yeah? You like me, ah, swallowing up your cock?” You move your hands to his chest, angling yourself forward so that you can fuck him at a harder pace.

“Fuck yes, yes, oh my god, you’re taking my cock so good.” His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking on it as you roll your hips into him. He’s reaching you so deep from this angle, his hips slightly bucking up to push himself further into you.

His hands make their way to your ass, squeezing them harshly before giving you a firm slap on one of your cheeks. You moan, raising yourself from your position so now you’re directly bouncing on his cock.

“Y/N! Shit,” He whines, “Faster, god please go faster.” 

“Yeah baby? You want it harder?” You love hearing him beg for more; it was one of the hottest things you’ve probably ever heard in your lifetime. You see his eyes start to water, teeth sunken into his bottom lip as he holds onto you for dear life. You moan, pushing yourself to go harder against him just to hear him cry your name, seeing him slowly lose it because of you.

“Yes, yes, ah! Fuck...Y/N,” He whimpers your name like a mantra below you, bed creaking faster and begging for mercy as the continuous slap, slap, slaps echo throughout the room. 

“God! R-right there Y/N, please.” You can feel your ass almost bruising from the onslaught of you slamming down on him, your pussy aching just as delightfully around his thick cock. As much as you want to keep going, your pace starts slowing down, the soreness in your thighs finally getting the better of you. You resort to rolling your hips, moving yourself back and forth against him to try and keep the momentum going.

“Tired, sweetheart?” You bite your lip, slowly nodding as he chuckles. He pushes the wet strands of your hair back from your face, leaning up to kiss you. The kiss is soft, warm, nothing intense like before. He kisses you like he could almost break you, but you can feel all the emotions tumbling down on you through that one simple kiss. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He smiles, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you guys over, careful not to separate you two as your back makes contact the bed. 

“I’m really glad I could call you mine.” He moves his hands under your head and lifts you up, moving some extra pillows to make sure you’re comfortable. He moves himself closer into you, adjusting the back of your thighs so they’re resting against him rather than hanging up in the air.

“Better?” You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck to connect your lips again. Times like these are the ones that bring you back to reality, making you remember you chose the right guy. Although he has his weird little kinks and he can be a complete idiot sometimes, Jungkook was always there for you. He always made sure you were comfortable, always there for reassurance for anything. Always kind, always loving. 

“I love you,” You whispered against his lips, making him smile into the next kiss.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He wraps your legs around his waist, holding your face as he kisses you much deeper. His hips slowly start moving, making your breath hitch in your throat.

His strokes were slow but deep, making sure he was taking his time with you. He kissed your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, your lips. He covered your body in bits of love, each one letting you know how much you mean to him. Once he hit that spot that had you arching your back and mewling his name, he set a faster pace.

“Mmm, right there baby?” 

“Yes! Jungkook, yes, right fucking there,” You cry, holding him closer to you. He thrusts deeper into you, his toned thighs slapping against your ass as the headboard bangs against the wall. He makes sure to rut against that spot, making you clench harder around his aching cock. 

“Jungkook!” You moan his name repeatedly as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. He kisses the corner of your mouth as you lose yourself in him, your nails raking down his broad shoulders.

“Come for me sweetheart, I wanna feel you all over me,” He snakes a hand down to your bundle of nerves, pressing the pad of his thumb against it in tight, quick circles.

You cry out his name when you come, clenching so tightly around his cock he can’t help but come with you, his seed spilling deep into you as he fucks you both through your high. You feel him filling you up, some of it leaking out of your core as he slows down but doesn’t pull out. You both pant against each other, covered in sweat as he falls on top of you. You brush his sweaty hair back from his face that rests on your chest, tracing his jawline as you regulate your breathing. 

He looks up at you, chin resting on your skin and you both tirelessly laugh. 

“I really don’t want to let you go, you’re so warm,” He murmurs, keeping himself in you for a bit longer.

“Well, we have to clean up, then we can cuddle naked and watch Naruto.” He mumbles a fine at your offer, knowing that he couldn’t say no to that. He gets off of you and slowly slips out of you, a mixture of both you and him spilling out and onto the sheets. 

“You look really good like that you know,” Licking his lips as he watches your wetness make more of a mess below, “I could literally get off on just this image.” 

You smile and roll your eyes, “Just get something to clean this up, okay?” You’re waiting for him to move off the bed to grab a towel, but instead he grabs your legs, dipping his head down to your core. Before you can stop him he laps up his own cum along with yours, sucking on all the excess as you grip his hair. He juts his tongue into you, getting every drop from you and making you moan tiredly. It’s too much, and you force his mouth off of you. 

“Okay Jungkook,” you whine.

He reluctantly lets you go, licking his lips when he looks up at you. “Fine, but just because you were so good to me today.” He winks at you before he sits up off the bed, walking to the closet to grab a towel.

“You know, this was honestly the only weird fantasy I’ve ever had, and you’re amazing for letting me live it out.”

You scoff at that, making him turn back to look at you with a quirked brow. 

“What?”

“Jungkook, I know your pervy weeb ass better than anyone and know for a fact this is not the only fantasy you’ve had.” You almost can’t contain the laugh that’s bubbling up in your throat.

“I’m serious Y/N! Okay, the tentacle was a little extra, I know, but that was just because Stan Lee was all over it, I had to have it!”

“Don’t say Stan Lee was all over it, that sounds so gross!” You gag.

“Okay, not like that! Not like how you were all over it, which by the way, was really really hot-”

“Jungkook!”

“Kidding! But you know what I meant okay...” He huffs, “Anyways, you make it sound like I’m some weirdo that has a cosplay kink. I like comics, yeah, I like anime, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to go on some sex crazed superhero roleplay series-” 

Just as he’s talking he opens the door to his closet, making a litter of boxes and clothes fall on the floor in front of you two. You look down to see the mess, and the first thing that caught your eye surprisingly wasn’t even shocking to you. 

You see a full on, decked out suit that spilled from what looked like a box stored deep inside his closet. The top half of the suit was all gold, with what looked like actual gold gems along the neckline. A gold, expensive looking belt was also included in the attire, and the bottom half of the suit was bright green that was covered in what looked like..scales?

You both looked at the costume and then back at each other, Jungkook’s eyes widening as he looks at you in panic.

“Y/N, I can explain-”

You both hear a loud clang from the closet, a stick about to tumble onto the floor but he catches it before it falls. You both look at the gold trident in his hand, covered in sequins and diamonds that you don’t even want to bother asking how many paychecks it must’ve costed.

“...Aquaman? Really?”

“Y/N, look, it’s not what you think! When I was trying to go to DragonCon two years ago they had this little collective superhero convention and Stan Lee was-”

“Jungkook!”

[musedblues]

A Taste Of Honey (Part 2)

summary: A 1920's Deacy au! In which the reader, who comes from a family heavily involved in the American temperance movement, meets John, a bootlegger from overseas.

a/n: Well here it is. I'm fully aware interest may be completely lost in this fic but I'm very proud to have finished it. Im not sure where my writing journey will go from here. All I know is that this has been a very long time comin'... enjoy if you dare!

part 1 - 2

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"If anything happens, Deacy, I'll have your head!"

Ivan shook his fist from the front porch, illuminated by the light flooding from the opened front door. 

"I'll be fine!" You dismissed, skipping toward the car, still getting used to the sway of the heavy golden dress you borrowed from Alice. 

"I'm talking about my car!" Ivan shouted, correcting you. John let out a laugh at the remark, and gave your brother a nod, while he opened the passenger door, nudging you toward it.

Your brother and his wife had loaned the essentials to send you and John away for the party a man you never met was throwing. It was a small thrill, the prospect of such fun to be had, in comparison to the sickening exhilaration that coursed through you at the thought of spending any kind of evening at John's side. And the fact he'd asked you to. 

The ride was quiet and short, but dragged on with each new glance you dared to steal at the man driving. Both of John's hands relaxed on the wheel. A hint of that deadly smile on his lips. 

By the time you got to where you were going, you'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of the man by your side, that you'd nearly forgotten your plans for the evening.

If you had any expectations, they were blown clear away. Before you was an estate made up of too many windows to count, draped in vines and hanging lights. 

Even the crunch of the gravel that decorated the winding path you entered into sounded oddly elegant.

Inside was a fever dream of all the things you'd imagined on your short journey into the threshold. Across a giant winding staircase and below the shimmering chandelier were people from all walks of life, crammed together to have one grand time. Different music came from different corners and wild laughter filled the gaps, if there were any. 

And before you, John led the way. You couldn't recall the moment your hand found the bend of his arm, or if he cared that you'd reached out to him as he weaved through the crowd. But the grin on his face when he turned back to catch your eye had to be a good sign; despite the way your heart nearly burst at his look. 

John led you past hoards of people and trays of half full glasses. There was only one way to go, further inside the home, but John seemed to move as if he had an idea of where he was headed. Sure enough when the pair of you met the landing of the staircase, the host of the party was there to greet you. 

The host's initial booming hello was focused mostly on John. And without more than a glance your way, the party thrower shuffled John away from your side, insistent on sharing a chat with him on the top landing of the stairs.

You were left to linger, stalling at the base of the stairs and studying the crowd around you. Girls in beaded skirts and men with slicked back hair passed you by flashing well meaning but entirely distracted smiles. 

You'd felt mesmerized enough by the scene to slowly start to drift into it yourself. Reaching to brush your finger across meticulously carved bookcases and daring to take a glass from the extended hand of the first person to smile directly at you. 

You reached for the stem of the blue stained flute, and managed to make your talk small enough for the interested lad to wander far off. But offers kept coming. Glasses of this and that shoved in your face. You accepted the offers more out of respectful politeness than any eagerness to lose your wits. 

By the time you lost track of everyone's kind gestures, and a man was leading you closer to a table decorated with cards and chips, another hand intervened.

John was back, letting his fingers curl around your shoulder and nudging you in another direction of his choosing. Thrilling as it was for you, to have been handled just so by him, you were a little taken aback. 

Funny how after the sips of this and that, you felt steady as ever. But one look from John and your knees threatened to give out and all your cares too.

In the middle of the packed house, with John looking at you that way, you felt like the only person alive. And somehow this all added up to equal your new found courage to speak a little bolder than usual.

"Are you on strict orders from Ivan to steer me clear of any strange attention or do you maybe fancy me a little, John?" You dared wonder. You almost didn't care of the answer. So long as he kept guiding you through this evening with a strong steady hand.

"Both." John seemed to decide, continuing to guide you along. The pair of you had reached the patio doors by now, and the cool night breeze rushed through in perfect time to ease the heat that had rushed to your cheeks at John's response. 

"Let's go see the gardens!" You decided at first glance of the sprawling greenery that surrounded the estate. 

John let you tug him along, darting between couples and groups who'd come to ruin the fresh air with all their smoke.

He followed along, a very good sport, smiling as you pointed out flowers and trees you didn't realize could bloom in this part of the country. As you turned from marveling over a certain rose's colour, John seemed almost enraptured. Maybe not by your subject but certainly by some part of you. His gaze was fixed, and he seemed to bite back a wider grin. And your already lightened spirits seemed all the more weightless as your eye's met his. 

"If you keep looking at me like that, John, I'm going to have to kiss you." You let a small laugh escape, as the foreigners' expressions remained steadfast. 

He'd kissed you only the night before, on your brother's staircase. It was the only reason you felt free of regret enough to lean in and brush your lips against his again. John reciprocated fondly, letting one of his hands creep around the bend of your waist. You never realized it was possible to feel so happy. 

"Did you do that because you've been drinking? Or do you perhaps fancy me a little?"  John mocked your earlier statement, when the kiss died and your eyes locked. 

"Both." You smiled, charmed enough to try it a second time. But this kiss was broken much sooner than you reckoned any kiss ought to be.

"You know I'll be leaving soon. Just a week's more time." John killed the mood with a few words. You glanced to your feet and muttered understanding, noticing his hand still clutched your waist. 

"I just don't want to see you disappointed." John spoke up after a beat of heavy silence, and the words seemed hard for him to piece together, but he spoke them all the while. 

"Then don't disappoint me." You shrugged, glancing back up to the perfectly handsome man, who's smile seemed sad now.

"Come on, then." John said, moving his hand to find your own. "Not even I get to enjoy parties like this too often."

And you let him guide you back inside. You let the sun set on all the pretty flowers. And you let yourself feel grateful for the rest of the evening at John's side. 

///

He rode the train home with you the next day, sitting across the bench from you, and not saying very much. 

You felt the need to chatter at the pass of every few minutes. You got John to ramble a little about the other places he was due to visit in the states. The guy only one more stop at some.fancy hotel after your town, in the big city, next week. Then he'd head home. 

After explaining as much, the man went quiet again. But you couldn't let the silence last. It was as if you didn't work to hold his attention, it would be lost the next time you looked up. Maybe that wasn't true. But you couldn't risk letting John slip away so easily. Not when your heart practically lept from your chest each time his eyes met yours. If it wasn't meant to be, then so be it. But you were going to fight for the chance that you had, while it was still within reach. 

So when the train pulled into your neighborhood, and John stepped onto the platform, you stopped him waving goodbye. 

"Will you be back? To our shop, I mean?" 

John took a step closer toward you with a very serious expression that softened just before he spoke. 

"I wouldn't dare leave before telling you goodbye." He promised, in a low, sweet manner. 

John pressed his lips to your temple for one brief heavenly moment. And then he turned away to hail a cab. 

At least now, in your terrible mix of emotions, something very bright and warm burned within you. And you got to believe, for a moment, that the same reigned true for John.

///

But all was not well at home. How could it ever be? 

Your mother was horrified that you'd up and left for the night without so much as a word about it to her, and to your brother's home no less. 

Her disdain for her first born left you sick to your stomach more and more each day. 

But this was nothing new. You knew to give the woman a showy apology and to stay silent as she confined you to the kitchen table as she lectured about morality. Tomorrow things would be back to her regular sort of unhappiness. 

What really stopped you cold in your tracks that night, though, was the sight of your father stood in the doorway of your room with his arms crossed.

To bring a frown to his face was your greatest fear. For he'd loved you and shown it. And you dreamed of doing good by him every chance you got. As you stalled in the hall and waited for him to speak his mind, you hoped this would only be a reprimand for causing your mother unnecessary grief, for her madness made you all ten fold more miserable. 

"I know you've been with your brother..." Your father nodded with understanding, not looking right at you as he spoke calmly. "But that also means you've been with John. And I don't like that."

Oh. Ivan had warned you this might be your fathers mood. But you'd ignored his warning in hopes it wouldn't have been true. 

"You know John!" You countered, "You work with him! You're telling me you get to work with a man you don't like but I can't see him?"

"He's a fine man. But all wrong for you." 

"You're supposed to be the one who lets me find these things out on my own." You reminded. Your mother did plenty of directing you from day to day. Your father knew of what you spoke and nodded reluctantly, uncrossing his arms and looking you square in the eye. 

"Well not this time. Stay away from John, you hear me? He'll be gone before you know it anyhow." 

Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze as if to ease the blow of his demands. But as he walked back down the hall, the uncertainty that had stormed within you since John left you at the train station, raged wilder than before. 

What a jam... 

///

There was nothing stopping you from returning back to the depths of the coffee shop, the next time Ivan started up his business. 

Your mother was sound asleep, and your father was already there, serving the last of the coffee up top. Once you arrived you knew he'd be cross but unable to march you away. 

So you slipped on your finest dress and twirled down the rickety staircase that led to the party your brother charged for. 

There were already a good deal of friends jam packed into the small basement; dancing to swells coming from the gramophone and lining up to grab a glass from Ivan's makeshift bar. Your brother flashed a grin when he saw you sauntering in, but his smile turned somewhat more into a worried grimace when he saw you march up the man near the end of those overturned book shelves.

So was everyone concerned over your connection with John? Even the man who'd held your interest sort of frowned at the sight of you demanding his attention. 

John had his fingers curled around a glass. You took it from his grasp and the action made the bootlegger grin oh so slightly. But his frown returned after you slammed back the swallow of liquor in his glass- unsure yourself by what had come over you.

"Hey, come on, don't be that girl." Ivan called to you from behind the bar. You couldn't be sure if he was commenting on the way you'd claimed Deacy's drink for your own, or on the way you seemed too eager to get the stuff in your system. 

Before you could snap back at your brother's comment, though, John spoke up.

"Don't worry about it," He insisted in the charming draw of his. "Just pour me another." And as the man who you adored stepped past you to hold your brothers attention, John sort of let his hand brush across your waist. And he left his fingers to linger along your sides as Ivan, disgruntled, poured another for John. 

"Is that all you cut in line for?" Ivan sighed, nodding toward the few people, impatiently waiting to fill their glasses, stood in a row behind John. 

And you hadn't really considered this before your brothers prompting. But at his asking, you were moved to pull out a twenty dollar bill from your coin purse, and demand he give you your money's worth.

Ivan was reluctant, going on for a bit how once your father spotted you here, like this, that he'd surely be disappointed. And you didn't want that, did you? But little did Ivan know, you'd already disappointed your father. And you were determined to get something you wanted tonight, one way or another.

So with a sigh, Ivan poured you a tall drink and informed you were good to come back for a few more, to match your payment. 

So began your evening of ignoring John's worried remarks about slowing down. And as you kept the drinks coming you weren't even sure why. Perhaps it was to test your very own limits. To somehow prove you were more in control of your path than all the others who seemed to have something to say about the direction of your life. 

And damn John, for the way he kept his eyes locked on yours between the distance he silently kept insisting upon. And damn him for helping you find your balance, despite the steps he kept taking away from you. For letting his hands stay secure around your waist, long after you'd straightened up from stumbling.

And damn your father. He had to have been behind John's change in attitude. From the moment you'd met, John had been a flirt. And steadily, his quips kept getting bolder, until the last party you attended. Ivan's rambling about your fathers dislike of your fondness of John had to be what caused him to step back.

And damn your father, for finding you all dizzy in John's well meaning clutch, now. Your dad pointed to the door and demanded you find your way out of this scene. 

"I know you're not taking her back to your hole in the wall you've been staying at, in the state she's in." You father grumbled in a low curse, his eyes searing into John's. You tightened your hold on the fellow, shooting your father a glare all the same. He couldn't tell you where to go or with who. 

"Take her upstairs if ya like. But don't step foot past the alley. I'll be up in a minute."

After a shared look, John moved, pulling you alongside him. You moved,  happily leaning into him, disgruntled by the course of the evening all the while. Even Ivan seemed to shoot you a sorry grin when he noticed you being marched away, from across the room.

The alley was a little cold. But John's figure was warm. And as you followed his lead pausing just beyond the backdoor, you could feel this chance waiting to slip away. 

"You like me, don't you?" You wondered, turning to face the man you'd been so taken with since the moment he showed up at your door.

"Of course." John nodded, and answered so softly and with such care truly felt as though it were melting. 

"Then kiss me, John." 

"You're drunk."

"But we may never get the chance again. One or both of us are about to be beheaded. Either way, that'll make kissing hard to do from now on." You implored, letting your head fall to rest precariously on his shoulder as you finished your plea. You heard John let out a somber little chuckle as he dared to tighten his arm around you. 

And then you heard a shuffle beyond the backdoor, and let out a sigh at the timing of your father coming to ruin everything. 

But instead, the door bursts open to reveal Rita in a fluster. Her usually perfect makeup streaking down her cheeks. At the sight of the girl you'd always admired, a pang shot through your chest. But not immediately for her upset, whatever it was, but because you realized you'd failed to see your friend here all night, until now.

Before you could apologize, or ask what the matter was, Rita sucked in a breath and let out a string of words for you. 

"He was a snitch. He-he told my parents everything." She stammered, wild eye'd. 

"Who?" You begged to know, having turned away from John, but not having totally turned your attention away from his hand still rested on the small of your back. 

"The pastor's son. Cole. He- he said he was alright with this whole thing. But he... He told your mother. She's on her way here, she's-" 

Sound of a car roared closer, and the engine died away, drowning out the last of Rita's warning. For a second, you thought of making a break for it. But then the click of heels on the pavement seemed to count down your fate.

And then she stood there before you. Your mother, dressed to the nines, complete with her usual scowl.

You couldn't let go of John. Your nails seemed to dig into his side on their own accord. The pair of you stared ahead to the woman who gave you life, and kept you from living it all the same. She stood and stared too, almost like she was giving you a chance. And that was the scariest bit of it all. 

As time seemed to pause, John let your name escape him in a nervous breath, like a warning. Trying to alert you that your hanging off him wouldn't help. But there was no way you were gonna let him go now. 

It was then your mother decidedly sauntered up to the two of you, letting her eyes search your from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and back up again. 

When she let out a scof, you realized you'd been holding your own breath. And when you opened your mouth, willing oxygen in, or words of mitigation out, your mother decided what was next. 

Before you could blink, one of her strong hands was digging into your arm, and she was tearing you away from John's gentle hold.

And despite his caution earlier, you could feel John's hand still trying to keep hold of you, as you were yanked away. The sensation of being taken from the man's clutch was horrid, but what was more painful was the feeling of his fingers trying and failing to keep hold.

So when your mother tossed you aside, toward the brick of the coffee house wall, you were hardly affected; not like you'd only just been.

And when you looked up, after steadying yourself and dusting your stone imprinted hands of dust, John was stepping closer toward your mother. He shouted something at her, about how she didn't have the right to treat you just so. But before he could finish defending you, he was shut down.

Your mothers hand flew across his cheek, and the sound of the slap and John's shocked hiss echoed through the alley and caused something vile to rise in your gut. 

You pushed yourself from the wall then, indifferent to the dizziness you felt, desperate to reach out to the man you'd been so fond of; calling his name.

But your mother was there, more sober and more angry. And she halted your mission to make it to your man, digging her nails into your sides and forcing you in the other direction. 

"John I'm sorry, John..." You called past the lump in your throat. That was when Ivan came upon the scene. He darted from the doorway and did his damnedest to block your mothers storming off. 

"You're a monster. Let her go!" Your brother fummed, as your mother managed to storm around her first born, pushing you along. 

"I'm her mother. And I'll do as I see fit to keep my child out of harm's way." Your mother stated, almost calmly.

"You're no mother. You're a walking nightmare. She's not your plaything-"

"Word's won't fix this, Ivan." You said, reminding him that his defying of the woman only ever made her ten times more evil.

"I'll pray for your children, son." Your mother nodded, opening the passenger door of her car, and flinging you toward the bench. "They're going to need it."

You didn't look to Ivan, as your mother drove off. You didn't dare look to John. You only hung your head and cried silent tears while your mother peeled down the road. And the whole way home, she spat vile things about you and Ivan. Her own children. About your father, her beloved husband. And aout John, a man who, since his arrival, had only tried to help out.

You let your tears dry when the car pulled up to the house you'd never really felt at home in. And went willingly from the ride to the door, knowing you would get very far in the countryside if you dashed away now. You'd need a wiser plan. Still, your mother dug her claws into your arm and marched you up the staircase to your room, like you were a girl no oler to know better. 

"Stay here." She demanded after pushing your further into your bedroom, her fist around the doorknob, establishing total control. 

You expected to be banished here. What you didn't expect, however, was the return of your mother with boards to nail against your windows. You might've laughed if you weren't the one being all locked up. Wasn't this sort of thing only supposed to happen in twisted fairy tales? You're life was twisted enough, you supposed.

She left you there, trapped in the space that was meant to be your own, meant to be safe. As you sulked in silence, the memory of your mothers assault on John haunted you. The horrid sound her action resulted in. His gut wrenching reaction, the small hiss, his stalling in the place she put him in. 

And the way he watched you being dragged off, helpless and sorry for you. It was pathetic, the situation you found yourself in. So you let your tears bubble up again and you cried and cried; until exhaustion set in. Tomorrow was a new day....

///

There was a pounding at your door, loud enough to jolt you from slumber.

"Open up!" The sound of your father calling from beyond the hall stirred you fully conscious. In one swift dash you were stood before your door, jiggling the handle, feeling silly for hoping that would work. 

"She's locked it." You groaned. "Do you have a key?" Your wonder was nearly frantic, and so were you- trying still to twist the knob. At the sound of your fathers grumbled cursing, you began to bustle about for some hair pins, but quickly realized you wouldn'tve had a clue to how to finess the tools into working like another. 

Then you heard your mother. She  shouted down the hall, telling your father to get out of her sight, to leave you be. Shouting that you were better off confined. That you'd be locked away until she found the right reformatory to ship you off to. You knew she meant it. You knew she'd send you away without a care of your consent. 

"She's not a child anymore. You can't just treat her like a bad pet who needs training."

"I'm her mother. And I'll be damned if I don't do what's best for my child. I failed the first time. God knows you never cared about either of them like I care." Your mother spat, breaking your heart and your fathers too no doubt. 

Their bickering lasted a while longer, and you spun away from listening in to force yourself to think. There had to be a way out of here, out of this life. There had to be a way to a better world. 

And the best you could do was wait.  Until dinner. Wait until your mother brought you a tray of soup and bread, trading a few put downs before she twirled from your room. And then you checked the time, and counted down the hours to her always predictable nightly routine.

And you waited still, until your bedside clock ticked well passed after midnight.

And then you used a lamp to pry the nails away from windows. You could tell her bedroom light was out by leaning against the sill.

With no time to spare, you tossed a change of clothes in your purse, and the envelope stashed with tips you'd been saving for over a year. 

It wasn't a very long way down. With the help of a lattice panel and the dark of night, you found grassy freedom in no time. Your heart beat heavy as you crept toward the road. It wouldn't be safe, not until the city lights were in view. But your shoes were flat and your hopes were high.

Miraculously, no one stopped you. Not the truck who zoomed by somewhere still deep along the dark country road. Not the school kids on the edge of town, tossing bottles off the bridge. And not the sleepy clerk at the desk of the hotel you raced into. 

"Be here, be here, be here..." You prayed under your breath, hurrying to the room you remembered John booking. And right as you rounded the hall, the door of the room you'd been in search of opened. 

But the squeak of wheels gave away the presence of a maid, pushing her cart of cleaning supplies out into the hall.

"He's gone?" You sighed, stopping at the end of the hall, your feet aching after moving so ceaselessly through the night. 

"Whoever was here left a while ago." The maid stopped for a moment, looking to you with a sorry expression. "Around dinner time."

"Right. Is there a phone at the desk?" 

The maid nodded and wished you luck, and you thanked her for it. You'd need as much as you could get. 

The clerk who was still kicked back, sleeping, startled at your ringing the bell on the desk. And though they didn't seem pleased at your begging to use the phone, they let you.

It only rang twice. 

"Hello?" Your fathers voice was a pleasant surprise. Of course he'd gone to stay with Ivan, in the midst of all this chaos. 

"Dad, Im-"

"Where are you? Does she know you've gone? I'll come fetch you."

"No." You implored, holding up a hand as if he could have seen your insistence.  "No I've phoned to let you know I'm taking the train to the city. I've got to find John before he leaves. And I'm sure of where he is. I've got to try." 

John had told you where he was headed next, on your last train ride together. And you'd felt silly for keeping the details at the front of your memory... until now.

The other line went quiet for a beat. And you'd fully prepared yourself for your fathers disapproval. But then he just said,

"Okay." Your father seemed to realize the weight of your feelings, you thought, by his tone of voice. "I knew you'd get out of there, eventually." And once more, you could tell by his tone he wasn't just referring to the room you'd been locked in for the last couple nights. "Phone us again, when you're safe and sound. I know you will be."

At his blessing, tears sprung in your eyes. You were going to go no matter what. But to have your father on your side made you even more determined to fly out of this hotel, and to the next one you knew John was meant to be staying at. 

///

Booking a train ticket was nearly impossible. And if you had spent much longer pleading with the station, you would have missed the bus pulling up down the block, offering rides in the right direction. 

The couple hour journey was maddening, and thrilling, and terrifying all at once. You were on your way to change your life. No matter what John said, or how he greeted you; no matter if he fell into your embrace or left you in the hotel lobby, you'd never go back the way you'd come from. 

And luckily, you managed to find the hotel John had briefly spoken of, without much trouble. It was the grandest of the business booming on this side of the city. Folks flooded in and out of the revolving doors, as you considered the past set of days that had led you to standing before here with such an erratic heartbeat.

But you only stayed paused for a moment. Your feet were darting inside before your mind caught up with how close you were to the mission at hand. 

The lobby was just as full of people as the revolving doors had been, lines forming near the desk, groups fighting to fit their luggage into golden elevators. 

And though you hated to be the person you'd decided to be, you dashed to the end of the front desk, hoping the clerk would spare you a minute at most. 

"I just need to know if someone's booked a room." You begged to know, shooting sorry looks to the people you'd cut in front of. The clerk seemed to have no patients for you, but miraculously, another set of hands swooped in to help. Some nice older woman flipped through the bookings to find John's name, after you gave it, and came up short.

"What about Deacy?" You hoped all of a sudden, quickly beginning to lose your ambition the longer she shook her head.

You'd done what you could, rudely so. And scurried away so your unwelcome presence would no longer be in the way of things.

And as you sauntered away, giving one last pathetic glance about the crowded lobby, you reminded yourself that it was all alright. You might not have found John. But you were finally free.

And then you pushed through the revolving door. And past your ghostly reflection, you spotted a familiar set of grey eyes. 

John seemed to wait until your gaze registered his own, before spinning around to make it indoors. You ignored the chilly night air and pushed on until you were right back where you'd just started to leave from. 

There he was, before you as real and sure as the sun and moon.

"You never gave me a proper goodbye." You reprimanded through a growing smile. He'd promised to give you a farewell, once. 

"How about a rain check? I've got lot's more important things to tell you, as a matter of fact." The man you'd come to adore smiled then, and offered his arm. You held on without hesitation and managed to follow his lead through the crowd, to the room he'd been staying in.

It was a humble little space, his suitcase opened on the coffee table and a yellow lamp left on by the window. John shut the door behind you with a soft click, loosening the pale blue tie round his neck, as you glanced about the room.

"I came by. Your place, I mean." John admitted, leaning against the closed door, as you turned from admiring the wall art to face him.

"You did?"

And then John said your father had dragged the Brit along, that night he'd knocked at your door. John was outside with high hopes. But your mother had caught your father before you'd even known there was a plan. 

"So you did try to come and tell me goodbye." You laughed a little, kind of glad he wasn't able to. This reality where you'd run to him was much more befitting to the situation, you thought. 

"Well, no." John pointed, not laughing along with you. "I never really wanted to say goodbye."

You stood there, taking in the sight of him. Watching John's brows oh so slightly furrow upward, hope pouring from his expression. You considered the gleam in his eye and the way he slowly seemed to shift his posture a little closer to you. 

"So we haven't got to part ways in a hurry then?" You wondered. Asking more than if you could linger a while longer in his rented room.

John seemed to know what you were asking. He seemed relieved, too. His shoulders loosened as the man crossed the space between you, in no big hurry. It seemed the two of you had all the time in the world at your disposal, now. John took his time, reaching out to tuck away some loose hairs near your ear. And his smile grew steadily too. By the time the guy pressed a kiss to your lips, you'd been wondering if the dawn would be breaking any time soon.

But the longer John went on kissing you, the less you thought of the sunrise. As John enclosed you in his arms, all your thoughts were of the man you'd come to adore. 

And as laid next to him and closed your eyes to the rising sun, you couldn't recall ever having experienced such a bright morning. 

"So you're not too eager to head back home, yeah?" John asked, once you'd both stirred from a restful slumber.

"I think I found a much more suitable place to be." You smiled, referring to the spot you'd settled under John's arm. 

And it didn't take much convincing on his end for you to agree on catching the next boat across the pond. 

///

The other line rang so long you'd almost decided to hang up. Then your brother answered. 

"Helllooooo!" He sang in a chipper timbre, making you wonder if he'd been expecting you at exactly this time, or if he answered everyone that way.

"Well I was going to ask how you were but it seems you're so well I don't have to wonder." You laughed into the receiver. 

The morning was early, and a breeze blew back a sheer curtain, obscuring your view of the grey English morning. 

Ivan spent the next few minutes yaking about how glad he was to hear from you. And you were glad to listen. On your rather spontaneous journey overseas, you were bogged down for a brief moment, at the thought of being so far from your dear brother. But as he rambled in your ear now, you'd never felt closer to him.

Ivan asked how things were. He asked after John, and that mattered so much more to you than his concerns for your well being. And when you had had your fill of the attention being on you, you begged your brother to give you all the details of what happened after you ditched home.

He said your mother was as furious as expected. Said she tried to blame your brother and her husband for your running off. Said she tried to get the police to shut down the coffee house for hosting such an undignified business after hours.

"You should'a seen her face when she found out officer Willard was our most loyal customer." Ivan chuckled. 

"We did have to pay a fine, in the end, so she'd quit her raving. It was almost everything we'd saved away for the baby." 

Your brother sighed. And you cooed his name in commiseration. 

"But my friend who owns that estate, the one who threw that party John took you to," Ivan explained. "He was good enough to loan us a bit of cash to stash away." Your brother said the man tried to give the money away outright, as a thank you to Ivan for helping start up his own speakeasy of sorts. But Ivan was dead set on paying him back, one day.

"Now we can't decide to name the babe after him, or John." Ivan chuckled. 

"And what if it's a girl?" You mused. 

"That'll just have to be a surprise." Ivan said, and just then the line went dead. You called your brother's name with a little hope he'd come back to tell you more. 

But you didn't worry when the line went on buzzing. You'd see him and his darling wife and his child to be, one day. You'd see your father too, if he was still hiding out at your brothers place. Hell, maybe they'd all come over here. 

Maybe you'd build a life with John, in his humble little English flat. You certain felt at home, watching the guy of your fancy stay dreaming as the sun rose. 

John had been kind to you. He'd been your friend when he didn't have to be. He'd let you lean into him, and he laughed at your jokes. He invited you into his world and smiled wide the closer your ship rolled toward London. 

And he'd treated your shoes as if they'd always been stored in the middle of the welcome mat. John opened his space up to you, and asked every night for the first few weeks, if you were happy, if you needed anything more. Your answers were always yes and no. 

And he didn't need to ask for honey in his coffee anymore. You just knew to add a little in the warm cup you'd have ready near the place he liked to sit in the morning. 

It was familiar and it was sweet, and so was John. Maybe he liked honey in his tea, too. And dear God, how you prayed every year from here on out; got to be spent guessing at life alongside the man who'd thrilled you by wondering all your answers all along.

[jungwon-crush]

(1) home - enhypen

(listening to the song while reading the chapter is recommended~)

rolling green hills stood before me. i closed my eyes as i laid on the wet grass that dampened my hair, while cool breeze flew around my figure. i should appreciate this type of weather since winter is starting to approach, i thought to myself. i want to laze in autumn forever.

"byeooolll!!! byeol byeol byeol byeol byeol!!!!" a nasally voice exclaimed. i internally sighed at the call of my name. there goes my relaxation time.

i stood up from my position, whilst the setting sun gazed at me, and began to search for a hiding spot. i need to at least give him a hard time looking for me, as compensation for ruining my moments of being alone. i barely get the chance to be by myself in nature.

as i looked around, i finally found a shrub to conceal myself in. so, as quietly as i could, i made my way to the bush.

i attempted to place myself inside it, forgetting the fact that i was a complete eighteen year old.

"owww!" i quietly screamed to myself. even though i wore a lengthy brown skirt, i somehow managed to get pricked by a thorn on my right knee. i guess my kilt moved around a lot while i was trying to adjust my stance.

unanticipatedly, the same voice that yelled my name just a short time ago appeared behind me.

"wh-what are you trying to do? imagine being so stupi-"

"shut up, jungwon!" i turned around to see the boy staring at my situation. his two hands covered his mouth, as if he was struggling to hold in his laughter.

"i hope you know that you look like a cat stuck in a tree. except you're a really big cat and that's a very small tree." he giggled.

"oh, be quiet! if anything, you're the cat. now, get me out of here!"

to be honest, i did not need much assistance. i was just in the mood to bother the boy who kept snickering at my condition.

he sighed at my request. nonetheless, he continued to move towards me. his hands found his way to my waist, while i placed my own hands onto his shoulders to steady myself as he lifted me off the hedge. he then placed me back onto the moist grass that i was previously laying on.

once he let go of my frame, i started to dust off my skirt and shake off the coarse leaves on it. i suppose jungwon took that as a cue, because he began to brush the strands of grass out of my braided hair.

with a hue of pink spread on his cheeks, jungwon complained, "and you wonder why others assume that i am older than you! i really do need to stop babying you.."

i crossed my arms and stuck my tongue at him. in return, he mirrored my actions and ruffled my hair.

"it's already sunset, byeol. we should go back home before it gets dark." jungwon said as he forcibly took my hand and led me out of the plain.

i rolled my eyes, "i thought you said that you needed to stop babying me? come on wonnie, please let me stay here a little longer! you can go back home by yourself so heeseung doesn't get worried."

"i'm not leaving you alone in this area. why were you not at your house in the first place? everyone's noticed that lately, after school, you always seem to be out. these days, i constantly look out my window and expect you to be in your usual spot in the living room, but you're never there."

i tugged at the long sleeve of his button shirt, "i don't wanna talk about it, how'd you know i was in the pasture anyways?"

"jake told me he saw you coming here after he finished his classes, he sounded concerned so i came to look for you. and talking about it helps, you know that. i've never allowed you to bottle up your emotions, i've listened to every single word you've uttered since we were kids." jungwon glanced at me with hope written in his luminous eyes.

"i hate how persistent you are. are you like this around other people too? you should take care of yourself too, wonnie."

"don't change the subject. let it out, byeol."

when it comes to yang jungwon, i can never resist.

i huffed into the air, "my dad... he... he  told me he'd return to lutton last saturday, and now it's thursday a week later yet he's not back. he sent me a letter saying that he's still in the city, his boss asked him to work for an extra amount of days there."

"mr. sun's gone again?" jungwon questioned. he moved closer to me in order to put his left arm around my shoulders. i realized that he does this a lot, especially when he notices that someone is under stress.

"mhm," i replied dismally, "i don't blame you for not noticing though, whether he's in lutton or not, he's barely at home. i think we all know that ever since my mom died 6 years ago, my dad avoids staying at the house for too long because our place is filled with memories of her."

"he's been coping like that for too long, when will he come to his senses? does he ever consider the fact that his daughter has been going through a hard time too?" he commented as they reached a district near their neighborhood.

"wonnie, you know his excuse. he always pulls the 'i work hard because of you' card. i can't even argue with him about the issue because, like i said, he's never home. i just want to distract myself from him because this matter has been getting to me a lot. so, recently i've been wandering outside our community. i don't want to disturb you guys with my troubles as well. i don't like seeing you lot get constantly frustrated over my issues."

jungwon grumbled, "byeol, suddenly dissappearing makes us fuss more. we share our problems, remember? whether they're big or small - when niki's bike got stolen it wasn't only him who went looking for it. all of us put effort into finding out who robbed it. we all know that your father's always been... something else, which is why we're here for you. anyways, forget him, have you been sleeping alone? what have you been eating for dinner? most importantly, are you doing your homew-"

the moment those questions left his mouth, i immediately put my hands over his lips. "everytime i mention my dad being gone in a conversation, you start nagging! sometimes i wish you would stop talking."

jungwon let out a muffled,"im gonna lick you." accordingly, i placed my hands back to my side again.

the boy annoyingly flashed his middle finger towards my direction. however, he quickly stopped due to an old lady passing by who gave him a judgemental glare.

it was hard to hold in a sneer.

he hurriedly picked up the discussion again while he scratched the back of his neck, "you still didn't answer my questions."

"i've been surviving on instant noodles and spam."

"heeseung would approve, but i don't. so, you're gonna eat with us at sunghoon's tonight."

"i'm not gonna oppose that, sunghoon's mom makes the best carbona." my stomach rumbled at the thought of pasta.

jungwon screeched as a response, "i know right! and the garlic bread she makes too? she's a five star michelin in my eyes."

i nodded my head in agreement. we were nearing our vicinity already.

"moving on, what about sleep and homework, byeol?"

"i sleep just fine. i'll probably ask sunoo to stay over tonight though to help me with homework. thank god we're both in the same class this year."

i glimpsed at jungwon to see his reaction, but instead of wearing an accepting look, his brows were furrowed and he looked... displeased?

"i bet sunoo hasn't even done the homework, after school today he went to niki's house straight away. all they do is just watch recorded shows - i can help you instead." he suggested.

"trust me, sunoo did the work."

at this sentence, jungwon's tone became a bit more aggrivated, "how would you know?"

"he did the assignment in our study period while i was sleeping. i saw him finish it when i woke up. he sits directly in front of me, conveniant, isn't it?" i grinned.

jungwon answered with a disheartened mumble, "fine, byeol, you do you."

why's he so irritated about sunoo doing homework for once? i wondered, isn't it a good thing that he's finally starting to put effort in school?

due to me spacing out, i did not register that jungwon and i already arrived at our neighborhood.

after bidding goodbyes (the goodbyes being another lecture of how to take care of myself from jungwon because i am already a legal adult), jungwon reminded me to go to sunghoon's house for dinner. he was about to unlock his front door until i ran up to him and pulled his form into my arms.

his arms went stiff for a while, but they ended up finding a way around my lower back - like they always do. he placed his chin above my head, this way i was in the perfect position to nestle in his chest.

"in all seriousness though, thank you wonnie. for always taking care of me." i whispered.

he clicked his tongue, "there's no need to thank me, byeol. i know by now that my prescence is a blessing."

i chuckled while he played with my  tangled hair underneath the nightfall. his fingers intertwined between the locks, then he released me.

he gently pushed me using his shoulder and said, "now go change for dinner."

taglist: @wonwobbles 

a/n: hiii first chap!!! i kinda hate how i wrote this so i'll probably redo it when im free again djdjdj. anyways the rest of the characters will be introduced in the next chap <3

[pedropascalunofficial]

My Cousin, Pedro Pascal

Ximena Riquelme

16 NOV 2017 12:53 PM

Before being the protagonist of Narcos or filming with Colin Firth, José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal (42) was a child whom I knew very well because we are from the same family. A man who today looks with nostalgia and some perplexity at his place of origin and his history and who still does not answer what would have happened if he had stayed here.

The first memory I have of Pedro is in the arms of my mother during his baptism, in the garden of my house. She was a weeping bus and had huge black eyes. I was 9 years old. It was cloudy. Years later I learned that the priest was Gerardo Whelan, the legendary rector of Saint George's College. Pedro's parents were not at his baptism: my uncle, José Balmaceda, my mother's only male brother, and his wife Verónica Pascal were asylees at the Venezuelan embassy, which was on Bustos street, near my house. Pepe, as we used to say to my uncle, who years later would become a famous gynecologist, an expert in fertilization, was then a 27-year-old young doctor, in those days wanted by Dina. Some time before they had hidden Andrés Pascal Allende, Mirista and his wife's uncle. One day they came to take him to the José Joaquín Aguirre Hospital and he managed to escape by jumping through the roofs. It was October 1975.

Like most of the Chilean families, there were supporters of both sides in mine: for and against Pinochet. Trying to help Pedro's parents, my dad called a relative who held a high position in the Army. "Tell the children to get asylum, because I cannot guarantee their lives or that nothing happens to Veronica," was his reply. She was 22 years old. Then began the journey of my uncles and with them that of my cousin José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal. Pepe and Verónica had to start living secretly in different houses. Pedro, who was only 6 months old at the time, and his 3-year-old sister Javiera were left in charge of my mother's older sister, "Aunt Juani."

The second memory I have of Pedro is when I accompanied my parents, who carried him and his sister in their arms, to stand on the sidewalk in front of the Venezuelan embassy so that their parents could see them through the window.

My uncles left the Venezuelan embassy for the airport in January 1976, Pedro was 9 months old and obviously does not remember anything. I just remember that they didn't let me go. Pedro could not record the image, which I could not see, of his grandfather Luis Pascal Vigil - a very prominent lawyer - singing the National Anthem on the balcony of Pudahuel. A memory that is not mine but that I adopted, for cute.

As the people of the International Red Cross advised our family on time, Pedro and his sister did not leave the embassy with their parents, but arrived directly at the airport: this allowed their passports not to be stamped with the "L" for " limited to circulate "that stamped on the exiles who left. Therefore, the years that Pedro and Javiera came could come to Chile without problems. And for that reason, the choclón of cousins, we were able to share long summers in Pucón and some winters in Santiago.

The Balmaceda Pascal first arrived in Aarhus, Denmark, in October 1976. A year later they left for San Antonio, Texas, where Pedro's father was able to continue improving himself thanks to a grant from the Rockefeller Foundation. Veronica earned a PhD in Child Psychology.

________________________________________

"But Denmark is invisible to me," Pedro writes me by email. A while ago I proposed to interview him at a distance to travel a little about his history, and here we are, in front of the computer, sharing memories. "It is invisible to me, like everything that happened before. Although once, after telling him about my childhood, a doctor told me that the temporary separation with my mother was trapped in the memory of my body and that I could remember it through the senses".

My cousin, far away

The third memory I have of Pedro is a summer in Pucón. It must have been in 1978. "Pepelo", as we said, was no longer a guagua but a restless, very blond boy, who was so impacted by poverty in Chile that when he went out on the street with his gringo accent, he asked any person: "Are you poor?" He took food out of the pantry and gave it away. With my cousins we rented a warm wooden house, colorful, with the door frames out of square. It was summers with trips to those black sand beaches that burned the feet and picnics in Caburgua with lamb on the stick. They took us to mass and Pedro sang very inspired.

"This is where the memories become more vivid, like dreams," he writes. "I remember so many details: my older cousins, children my age who were like family. The beach seemed endless. I also remember running down the hallways and stairs of Aunt Juani's house looking for Santa Claus at Christmas."

XR: What was it like leaving your parents in the United States?

PP: "I think the trauma was going back to the States, although I obviously wanted to be with my parents. But childhood in Chile, with the Balmaceda and Pascal, was a dream, a world where nothing was missing, pure adventure and love."

Now that he tells me that, I remember that image of Pedro hanging on the neck of our aunt Juani, crying in Pudahuel because she did not want to return. At that time going to the airport was a panorama: we were going en masse to leave him and his sister, who traveled in charge of the stewardesses.

In 1981 I went with my parents and my two sisters to see the Balmaceda Pascal in Texas. I remember an eternal road trip from Miami, I remember Pedro's house, in a middle-class neighborhood, comfortable, beautiful, lovingly arranged by his mother. I remember the tears of my mother and Pedro's mother when we said goodbye to return to Chile. We still didn't know when they could return. Although Pedro never fully returned.

In December 1983, Pepe and Verónica were able to enter Chile. The whole family was packed on the terrace of Pudahuel, waiting for them. I remember the Balmaceda Pascal walking from the stairs of the plane to the International Police. I remember them happy, triumphant. Pedro was 8 years old and chose to stay in my house, in love with my girl sister.

We all went to Quintero, to the house of our grandfather Pepe, a great smoker, tennis player, and fanatic fanatic who took us to the town cinema to see double Tora! Programs, Tora !, Tora! More Bridges on the River Kwai and other old movies. Surely Pedro had to see several. Since he was a boy he said he wanted to be a "director". He liked horror movies and was a big movie consumer, like his dad.

PP: "I remember going to the movies with the cousins and the grandfather to see anything with Clint Eastwood, Sylvester Stallone. They leased me VHS movies to see alone and happy."

XR: You once recited Hamlet on the beach with Grandpa.

PP: "No, it was Death of a Salesman, by Arthur Miller. I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it and lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the United States."

After that summer, Pedro began to come more sporadically. He was already grown up, at school and then at university. They had moved to Newport Beach, California. His father was doing very well. But Pedro, not so much.

PP: "I think that the way the family supported me in Chile was the opposite of what I experienced in Newport Beach. I started well in California but at 13 years old, very involved in the cinema, reading plays, books, TV, TV, TV, obsessed with these things, I had the bad luck to find few like me. It was a world very attached to conservatism and its privileges where not fitting was punished. There was a group of shitty goats who were my friends the first year and became my terrors thereafter. I don't enjoy remembering that time, but there are deep connections from back then. Friends of my parents who are like parents until today."

Pedro's mom soon found a performance arts program at a high school in another district. A more inclusive school compared to Corona del Mar, the neighborhood where they lived in Newport.

PP: "My mom and my driver's license were my salvation. There I was able to unleash my appetite for movies and theater without limits."

As time went by Pedro became a fun, provocative teenager with character. He said he was "lazy", but he went to study Theater at NYU in 1993 and he loved it. I started to see it less. When he came to Chile he went out with his friends, I was already married and having children.

XR: Did you find that our way of life was very boring?

PP: "Bored, no. But overwhelming regarding life's permanent decisions. I didn't have the Catholic structure, and I felt there was no room for a young guy like me. Like suddenly, from one trip of mine to another, you had lives that included marriages and children, and pleasing the visits of the gringo cousin was no longer an option for all of you. I had to duel, because I was jealous of his inattention."

XR: Do you find us very conservative?

PP: "Yes, but it is a major contradiction for me. I come from the perspective that no one can decide how someone else should live their life. And well, in our family there are social rules that are very firm. I think that a person has the right to live his life conservatively or wildly as long as he does not negatively impact anyone or tries to embarrass others by his lifestyle. I don't touch these issues very much with our family for fear of hearing their perspective, but what I do know is that if I ever needed help I could ask any member of our family by the name of Balmaceda, and I would get it."

In 1995, Pedro's parents returned to Chile with their two youngest children, Nicolás and Lucas, who had been born in California. Javiera also came for a couple of years. Pedro stayed in the United States.

PP: "It was a very scary period. I grew up with my family in the United States and from one day to the next there was no home to return to. Suddenly the idea of the safe nest was gone. It was shocking because in previous years I took for granted the privileged life we had in California. I never thought that this could change as suddenly as happened to my parents when they became exiles. Everything felt fragile. Also, I knew that my parents' marriage was wrong and that the tension of those circumstances was hardly going to end. My mother's life felt in danger and the line between needing her, being there for her and finishing my studies and pursuing a career was a horrible conflict. I knew that my mom wanted me to continue doing mine, she never would have wanted me to sacrifice it."

XR: Did you really resent the failure of your parents' marriage?

PP: "For me it was the hardest time. I have not been able, and I do not know if someday I will be able to reconcile completely how my parents separated and the tragedy that came after that separation. The circumstances of my mother's death made it very hard for us to keep her memory of who she was. It hurts so much ... Sometimes I feel distressed and try to face it in the best possible way, because I know that my mother would not like me to do it in any other way."

Pedro lost his mother when he was 24 years old.

PP: "It's hard to say what I remember most about her. You met her, so it is easy for you to understand that she was the love of my life. I think of her every day. Since I don't pray, I can't say that I have a practice to feel her close, but I live for her even though she's gone, and that makes sense to me."

From Alexander to Pedro

XR: Do you believe that pain makes us stronger or does it seem like a horrible cliché?

PP: "I don't think it's a terrible cliche but a profound reality. In some way, losing the most important person in your life, discovering that something like this is possible and that what you fear most in life can happen is an identifiable and permanent moment. There is a before and after after his death. I think, yes, that old age would not have been for my mother, there would have been no footwear with her. Of course, no one wants to grow old, but others can handle it better. I would not have liked to see my mom struggling with it, but at the same time, I wish I had her every day still with me."

It may have been the summer of 2012. Pedro said to our aunt Juani: "I am 37 years old and I still can't get what I want. And it's the only thing I know how to do." It had been a long time since the death of his mother in the summer of 2000 that Pedro had changed his name. From Pedro Balmaceda to Pedro Pascal. He had been searching for years, years of casting where, by being called Pedro Balmaceda in the studios, they hoped to find a Latin or classic Mexican phenotype. He had only made minor appearances in some series.

XR: Although you did not regret it, you did wear Alexander at some point. Why?

PP: "That was a desperate period and directly related to having lost my mother. I was desperate to work, to fill my days with something more to suffer. To eliminate the confusion that casting directors had with this guy named Pedro with European or Caucasian traits, I changed my first name to Alexander and took my mom's last name, Pascal. That only lasted a year, until I was able to find a job and be selected for an Ibsen theatrical classic. But it was too late for people to identify me as "Alex". Also, my mom named me Pedro. So the decision was to call me Pedro Pascal, a name that fits with me more than any other."

Soon after that came Brothers and Sisters, other small roles, and later more important ones in The Good Wife, The Law and Order, The Mentalist, until Game of Thrones, Narcos in 2015 and now, filming Muralla china with Matt Damon and William Dafoe - last year we all went to see his cousins together - and then Kingsman 2 with Colin Firth, Julianne Moore, Jeff Bridges, Halle Berry and Channing Tatum.

XR : Have you ever been excited acting with such powerful actors?

PP: "I have been thrilled with everyone."

With fame have come the new meetings of the cousins with Pedro Pascal. We all want to see him, take pictures of us, we ask him for greetings-chub for friends, we inflate ourselves by saying that he is our cousin. That Peña, the protagonist of Narcos and the sexiest guy in the world, is my cousin-brother. He laughs and humorously calls us "scoundrels" because now we remember him. In fact, that's what our cousin chat on Whastapp is called.

But there is also the modesty to disturb him. Know that you are busy. That while I'm sending you these questions, you're filming in Boston with Denzel Washington. And to feel that there is always a lack of time to speak to him calmly, a space to ask him questions like the ones that occur to me now:

XR: Exile changed your life. Can you imagine growing up in Chile?

PP: "I don't know, because I haven't thought much about it. I have been asked this question all my life and have never been able to come up with an answer. Perhaps my life would have been more complete and solid. What I am used to is that the past disappears as if it had been lived by someone else, in another time."

XR: Do you miss something from when you were Pedro Balmaceda?

PP: "You know? There is very little difference between Pedro Balmaceda and Pedro Pascal. As it is all part of José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal, I feel the same person. But with back problems and more money."

XR: Would you like to start a family?

PP: "Being a dad? I don't know. I have no fucking idea. I love being an uncle. It may just end there. But anything is possible."

XR: Marialy Rivas said something very nice about you on Saturday: that when you play a character, you pretend that this character brought a whole previous story, much bigger than what they are telling. And it's true: you carry a bigger story than you tell it.

PP: "I don't know, cousin. I am very confused trying to organize the past and see what turns out. It helps me understand the pain or be grateful for what I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm a fraud, living between waiting for fame and attention and completely embarrassed by these wishes.

In reference to what Marialy said, I think she means that I put all my confusion, joy and sorrow, ambivalence, hostility, rage, love, lust, greed, compassion, ignorance, knowledge either to indicate a map with the finger on Narcos, throwing an arrow in Game of Thrones, lashing out at Kingsman. Cool! But I think my experience in theater taught me that."

XR: Would you someday like your life to be a script?

PP: "No way." (in english)

XR: Do you still want to be a "director", as you used to say when you were a kid?

PP: "Yes! That will be my way of being a father. Father of a production."

XR: Is dreaming about an Oscar the dream of every actor, even if you don't confess it?

PP: "I confess that possibly… yes."

[ldouble]

Unexpected Guests | Sam Wilson x reader

details: Takes place during Captain America: The Winter Soldier, specifically when Cap and Nat appear on Sam’s doorstep. As his girlfriend, you’re there too. And while the guests are unexpected, they are always welcome

“You cut across the grass.”

“You never said I couldn’t.”

I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know Sam was rolling his eyes at me. We had been running together for the entirety of our relationship. We actually met while running, our morning paths lining up with our similar paces (despite him saying he slowed down to finally catch my eye when it was me ruining my mile time for him). No matter, it was an unspoken rule of ours: you don’t cut across the grass. That’s cheating.

But I didn’t want it to be now, when I had finally beat him to the front door.

I only turned when he didn’t retort back. My hand was halfway to the orange juice when I noticed him standing on the opposite side of the kitchen. He was still breathing heavily, able to control himself enough not to be heaving like a cow (like me), but his eyes were toward the floor. His house, while lived in, was spotless. I didn’t even need to look down to see if there was a spec of dust, there surely couldn’t be.

Besides, that was his thinking face. His worry face. His wonderng face.

The chill of the refrigerator reached him, causing him to look up at me. The breath he had been holding in was released as he made his way to me, side stepping to grab the jug just out of my reach.

He held eye contact for a second, his dark irises blending in with the dark purple of his running shirt. I was about to ask what was on his mind when he went to drink straight from the gallon.

“Sam Wilson don’t you dare-”

My warning went unfinished, as did his rebellious action, when there was a knock on the door. I switched my focus to the unexpected visitor, going to check my watch. The early morning house barely registered as Sam gently pat my legging-clad thigh in a “stay here” notion. It wasn’t a controlling action, but rather his AF training. Something as simple as the mailman would always be a threat to the soldier.

I abided, despite my own military status. Obedience never lasted long with me, though, so it was no surprise that I followed after him after no less than a second. Upon Sam opening the blinds, I faltered, the guests a little too unexpected for my feet to continue.

“Hey, man.” Sam said, only the slightest bit of apprehension in his voice. I was proud of his even tone, talking to Captain America with anything but the girly squeal that Sam used once or twice, was impressive to me. Something told me this wasn’t the first time they were meeting. How else would Steve Rogers be at our door?

“I’m sorry about this.” I tilted my head at the sight of the red head, dazed and confused, beside him. Just as I turned my attention to her, she looked inside. Her eyes darted to Sam, as if taking in his presence for the first time, before looking back and recognizing my figure, too.

“Everyone we know is trying to kill us.” She said bluntly.

Sam’s back was to me and he didn’t know I was behind him still. I assumed his mind was running wild. One second we were joking about fake running rules and now we were faced with two very wanted people asking for refuge. Cutting across the grass seemed less and less like a real issue anymore.

“Not everyone.” I stepped forward, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder and revealing myself to Steve. He offered me a small smile which I returned, before looking back up at Sam and nodding. My interjection had probably overwhelmed even more. There was a reason he asked me to stay in the kitchen, so I wouldn’t have to deal with this. I told him I wanted to deal with it. Be apart of it. Be in this with him.

I conveyed in the only way I could, in taking a step back to allow our guests in. Sam pursed his lips, before following my lead. I let out a small breath, happy this wasn’t an argument (yet) and went to show them around. I hadn’t made it a foot away when I made the point to look over my shoulder. I didn’t want to admit the chill that went down my spine at the sight of Sam studying the neighborhood like a battlefield.

The good thing: he surely had forgotten about me cheating our race today.

--

"Stop eavesdropping.” I chided from the stove.

Sam sighed, throwing over his shoulder, “Says you.”

“Sam.”

He retreated from his perch at the bottom of the stairs. When I had come downstairs from showing our guests a place to wash up, I had found him, trying to make out whatever joke had Steve chuckling lightly. Ever since I had refused to let him in on the light hearted sentiment, he had stood with a sour look on his face.

Now, he saddled up next to me. If I didn’t know any better, he had just come in from our run. It wasn’t like his harsh breathing came from having two fugitives currently in our bedroom.

“You shouldn’t be listening to them talk.”

“I’m not-”

“Because you should be the one talking.” I shot him a look as I emptied the scrambled eggs into a bowl. “Talking to me.”

Sam let out a breath, his head tipping back against the cabinet. The way he shut his eyes made me think he was trying his best to listen in again but before I could scold him again, he opened his mouth.

“I met him running. I didn’t think he’d show up.”

My eyes found the loaf of bread, my hands following quickly to busy myself. I thought his explanation would make this situation a little less ludicrous. Sam’s attempt at cueing my in only made the whole thing more bizarre. Sensing my staggering disposition, Sam stepped in to remove myself from my menial task.

He said my name, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of my hand. My eyes found his, a guilty look on his face. “That’s all I know.”

I gulped, still feeling unsure. Our lives had become so ordinary since becoming civilians, it was shocking when things got out of place. Having an Avenger in our house was a lot more concerning than anything we had experienced, but I knew we could get through it.

But if I had to stand here one more second not knowing everything, I was going to explode. I told Sam that. Not directly of course. Couldn’t seem to thrilled to see Captain America again. At least not in front of my boyfriend.

I forced a smile on my face, the one of a perfect hostess, before nodding up the stairs. “Go tell our guests breakfast is ready.” Sam didn’t make a move until I hip checked him lightly. “If they eat that sort of thing.” I winked.

They did. Eat that sort of thing. No matter how super human he might be, Steve Rogers accepted the assortment of eggs, bacon and toast happily. When he thanked me for the offer of orange juice, I shot a look at Sam.

Good thing you didn’t drink straight from the bottle.

He rolled his eyes at me, silently challenged me with a look that said Oh like you knew we would have unexpected guests.

Which I didn’t. And I definitely didn’t know that S.H.I.E.L.D’s dirty laundry would be joining us for breakfast either.

I watched Sam butter his toast, looking up every so often as they talked through their operation. He did’t want to admit it, but his interest was peaked at the sound of a fight. Always a soldier.

Especially when he could help save someone.

So I wasn’t surprised at all when I watched he dropped his work file on the table, calling it a resume. The only thing shocking me was how Sam could possibly think any old Air Force pilot could help them.

Bewilderment found its way to me when Nat, Steve’s friend and the redhead who looked way better in my tank top than I ever would, called Sam a pararescuer. I stood up, looking over the picture she held in her hands. She handed it to Steve who I only heard talk at the mention of a certain someone’s name.

“Is this Riley?”

“Yeah.” I said, only shooting Sam a look when I answered for him. He nodded in understanding. I knew all about Riley. Especially how hard it was to talk about him.

“I heard they couldn’t bring in choppers because of the RPGs.” Nat continued. “What did you use a stealth chute?”

The question even puzzled me, an Army brat. It would be impossible for even that kind of technology. Sam clued us both it, offering the folder I had never been allowed to look at.

A dry chuckle escaped me as I caught a glance at the sheet of paper.

“I thought you said you were a pilot.” Steve questioned.

“Me, too.” Once again I put myself in the conversation, an eyebrow raised at the boyfriend I thought I knew well.

While some anger tinted my tone, a playful smile was on my lips. No one liked a lie, but everyone had their secrets. Myself included.

I bit my lip, offering an expected look that had Sam chuckling himself. “I never said pilot.”

He had both of us, me and Steve, there. When we met it was Air Force. Understanding veteran’s liking to keep things in the past, I never pressed on. I cursed myself for giving him a freebie. This was a big thing to keep a secret.

“I can’t ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason.” Steve said.

His words hit me close to home. Few ever wanted to leave active duty. It was never a choice. Right now, this was a choice.

“Then ask both of us.” I interjected, making my way to the entry table and pulling out the drawer. My own stack of papers hit the table in a similar fashion as Sam’s, the binder clip clacking louder than the manilla folder had.

I shrugged as he looked across the table at the file. “You’re not the only with a resume, honey.” I rubbed his back before sucking in a breathe and facing our guests. “This household has two soldiers in it, not just one.”

Nat smiled at my words, going back to read more in detail about the project I had worked on while my boyfriend was flying in the skies.

Steve was still on the fence so I nudged Sam to convince him.

“Dude.” Sam said clearly after clearing his throat and tearing his eyes from me. “Captain America needs my help.”

“There’s no better reason to get back in.” I added, crossing my arms over my chest.

I saw the approval in Steve’s eyes even before he asked where we could get a hand on one of these things, waving Sam’s folder.

Sam answered with Fort Meade, a familiar sounding base. When he went on to describe its three guarded gates and 12 inch steel wall, I remembered it. How did it come to mind? It was listed as a possible holding place for my own supplies but deemed too insecure.

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Steve declared, tossing down the folder.

“Mine might be.” I jested after running the measures through my head.

Nat merely shrugged when I explained them and Steve nodded in agreement. it was Sam who was a little fearful. Of what? It was unclear.

“I have no idea who I’ve been sleeping with.” He said once our guests went upstairs and we began to clean breakfast. “Are those towels even from your grandmother?”

"Either from her or the Secretary of the Navy, you pick.”

He said my name, his hand going to turn off the faucet. His face was stern and etched in what looked like...disappointment?

I continued to clean the plate in my hands. “Who have I been sleeping with? Surely not a pilot.”

“At least I was in the right field.” He said through gritted teeth.

I sighed, dropping the sponge and wiping my hands on my pants. “I knew we should’ve talked more on our first date.”

Unappreciative of my jokes, Sam stared down at me, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t angry, just upset. I was feeling the same way, having just found out he was a freaking Falcon. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

Now was the time to talk.

My hands found their way in pulling apart his arms, placing them on my lower back. My fingers clasped around his neck as I pulled his forehead against mine. “I should’ve told you.”

He didn’t release any more of his tension, only agreeing he should’ve done the same. I couldn’t blame him, I still held some anger in locked elbows.

Sensing it, he eased his hands over my arms before pulling my even closer so our bodies were against each other.

“Who would’ve thought this would come about all after I cut the grass?” I finally broke the silence, earning the smallest of smiles from him.

“You can have your work.” He nodded towards the stack of papers, still resting on the table. “But you can’t have that win.”

“Says the pilot with wings.”

“Says the girl-”

His comeback went unheard as I placed my lips on his. He knew who I was now. His wings didn’t change him. Neither did my accessory. Some soliders wore army green and others did the whole camo-face paint. For us, it was a bit more heavy duty.

So much so, we had Captain America at our door asking us to suit up.

But like I said, no better reason to get back in it.

The End

“