#luis is blocked though sorry my guy

[zorosdimples]

this was smooth as hell ngl

taking a bite straight out of an apple is so sexual

[leonsbbg]

leon kennedy x reader

you're left abandoned by your "friends" at a bar when you also notice a strange man has been following you. luckily, you find solace in a group of men willing to help you. a certain blonde boy catches your eye

notes and warnings: use of yn, cw for "slut" being used in a degrading way, luis and chris' characters are no where near accurate they're more of filler characters. (this is my first time writing with leon so even if it's not too accurate i hope it's okay🙏🏼) (also i barely proofread this)

you were thoroughly panicking.

you just left a bar where your friends were supposed to meet you, but they never showed. it honestly wouldn't surprise you if they did it on purpose, considering your history with them.

you really needed better friends.

which brings you back to right now, where friends would be really amazing. or maybe a phone that wasn't dead.

'damn i need to get my shit together.'

you had seen the same guy for three blocks now. every time you would nonchalantly glance behind you, that same man in a red hoodie would be a behind you. he was pretty far away, but he was always there. you didn't want to assume he wanted to kidnap and assault you, but in today's world no one would blame you for being a little paranoid. you had no idea what to do until you saw a group of guys hanging around a street lamp in front of a shop. it was late so the shop wasn't open, but they didn't seem to care. they looked to be taking pictures and laughing.

'they seem nice enough.'

you immediately increase your pace until you're right beside one of them; a tall, black-haired man, sporting an earring and a very fashionable outfit. there were three guys in total and they all seemed to be around your age, (and very attractive.)

they immediately looked at you in confusion.

they didn't seem too weirded out though, so you took that as your chance.

"i'm so so sorry to interrupt, but i think there's a guy following me and i've been walking for a little bit because my friends were supposed to meet me but they stood me up and my phone died and i was wondering if i could stand with you because i don't know what-"

"woah woah, slow down," one of the other guys, who had (beautiful) long blonde hair and baby blue eyes, put his hands up, "you think someone's following you?" his eyebrows knit in concern and you feel your heart flutter.

"yeah, i think. he's wearing a red hoodie and black pants. i don't really know that he's following me per say, but he's been walking behind me for a while and i get kind of paranoid about this stuff." you frown because you suddenly realize you might be blowing this out of proportion.

"no, i understand. it's better to be cautious." the same boy replies with a smile that almost knocks you off your feet. you give him a shy smile in return.

"you can stay with us for a little bit if you want. at least until you feel safe enough to leave." the third boy tells you and you could've kissed him with how grateful you felt.

"thank you so much, i know this is weird, but i really appreciate it." you say honestly.

"don't thank us, you're just scared for your safety so we'd be happy to help you." the blonde boy that caught your eye says this and your heart melts.

what do they say about love at first sight?

"so i guess we should introduce ourselves," the black haired boy next to you speaks up, "my name is chris, and this is luis," he gestures to the brown haired boy in front of you who gives you a smile and wave, "and this is leon." the very nice-looking blonde boy gives a smile.

"i'm yn, it's really nice to meet you guys." you give your own smile and hope it conveys how grateful you are.

"yn," leon says almost absent-mindedly, "that's a nice name, i like it." he meets your eyes and you have to look away to try (fail) to hide your blush at the unexpected compliment.

"wait-" luis starts, "didn't you say the guy had a red hoodie and black pants?" he asks you.

"yeah, do you see him?" you don't look back, partly because you're a little scared.

"yeah, he's just standing against that wall. he’s not moving, but he keeps looking over here." luis frowns.

"oh my god-" you start to tear up. you don't mean to seem like a cry baby, but you've never been in a situation like this before and you'd be lying if you said you weren't thinking about all of the news stories you’d heard about women getting kidnapped and found dead, or worse.

you almost feel yourself spiral into a panic attack until you feel a pair of hands grab your arms.

"yn? hey, it's alright. we won't let anything happen to you, okay?" leon trains his ocean eyes on you and you can tell in that moment you couldn't be safer.

leon lets go of you and you take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

"okay, yeah— yeah, i'm sorry, it's just been a long night." you rub a hand over your forehead.

you all stand and talk for a little bit before chris notices and points out that the unknown man is starting to move towards the four of you.

"he's what? oh shit shit shit—" before you can completely go crazy, leon comes to the rescue, again.

"hey, remember what i said? we won't let anything happen to you, and i mean that. just stay back okay? let us handle him." leon moves you behind him to use his body as a shield.

you see the man stop in front of the three guys and you can tell they're all sizing him up.

"is there a problem?" leon is the one who speaks up first, his arms crossed and by his posture you can tell he's tense.

you try not to pay attention to the way his shoulder muscles strain against his jacket.

"no problem. just trying to get to that little lady right there." his words slur and he makes eye contact with you to give you a crooked smile that makes your stomach twist.

"that's too bad actually, because she doesn't want anything to do with you. so i think it's time you left and stopped bothering her." chris speaks this time, a warning in his tone.

"come on man, i just want to have some fun. she obviously wants it, look at what she's wearing. slut." you flinch at the harsh word and cave in on yourself.

leon is seething and steps towards the man aggressively, but is held back by luis.

"just get the fuck away dude, she doesn't know you and you're being a creep. leave before we call the cops." luis says in a calm, but serious tone.

the man stays silent for a second as if asking himself if it's worth the trouble. evidently it's not, because he starts to walk away.

"whatever. she's ugly anyways." he flips his middle finger up as he walks down a nearby alley way, out of sight.

"what a fucking asshole." leon says angrily, arms still crossed and posture tense.

"yeah he was a jerk, but at least he left." chris says in relief.

you don't say anything as you process what happened.

he called you a slut and then proceeded to call you ugly in the very next sentence. what was wrong with people?

you start to feel self-conscious, so you put your arms around your middle and back away from the guys a little, wanting to hide and cry forever.

leon turns around and his anger seems to melt away and is instead replaced with a look of concern.

"yn, are you okay? don't listen to anything that dick said, he was stupid." he looks you in the eyes and you can feel gentleness and care radiating off of him.

you don't say anything, opting to look sideways at the ground.

"are you cold? do you want my jacket?" leon starts to shrug off his jacket and before you can even protest, he places it around your shoulders. it dwarfs you, but you’re grateful for his kind gesture.

"thank you. i'm sorry i got you guys into that, but i'm really glad you helped me, im really lucky." you say sincerely, hoping they can hear it in your voice.

they all smile at you and you realize it's probably time for you to go home. for some reason this thought makes you sad.

"um—" you start quietly, "could someone call me an uber? my phone's dead and i don't really feel up for walking." 

"actually, is it okay if i give you a ride instead? after what happened, i'd feel better if i drove you myself." leon says while scratching his head, not making eye contact. 

he looks, nervous?

"oh, yeah, i'd appreciate that, thank you." you give him a smile and he gives you one back.

after parting with the other two guys and giving them plenty thanks for helping you, you follow leon to his car which happened to be parked right across the street.

"wow, this is your car?" you ask in disbelief. “it's so—"

"awesome?" leon interjects playfully.

"expensive." you finish.

leon lets out an airy laugh and you swear you've never heard a sweeter sound.

he opens the passenger side for you, before getting into the driver's seat.

the ride to your apartment is silent except for the radio playing softly throughout the car.

"here we are." leon puts the car in park but neither of you move.

"thank you again for tonight. i don't know what would've happened if you and your friends weren't there." you say playing with your hands, a nervous tic.

"again, don't thank me. i'm just glad we were able to help you." you look at him and see him already staring at you with a smile on his face.

you can't help but notice how beautiful he is. the way his hair is almost falling in his eyes makes you want to brush it away.

you blush and look away.

"well i guess i should leave now." you sit still.

"yeah i guess you should." he sits still.

it takes you all of 30 seconds to finally get out of the car, giving leon a goodbye and another ‘thank you’, receiving another ‘don't thank me’ in return.

you're walking away from his car to your apartment complex when you hear leon shout your name.

you turn around to see leon getting out of his car and jogging towards you.

oh shit, his jacket.

you start to take it off and utter apologizes before he stops you.

"no no, that's not what i came for." he holds out a piece of paper with what you're assuming is his phone number.

you take it in shock and look up to see him smiling down at you.

"have a good night yn." leon turns around and walks back to his car. 

just before he gets in, he turns back to you.

"and keep the jacket, it looks cuter on you anyway." he leaves.

and you're stuck to the sidewalk wondering what the hell just happened.

[maukiki1]

So, for MFB dub or sub? Which do you watch? Just a bit curious.

(Ik this is my art blog but fuck it, block of text jumpscare)

Well with mfb you dont really have a choice unless if you know japanese well enough do you? The sub doesn’t exist besides the first 30 episodes… yet😭 what i guess youre reffering to is the regular ass japanese version😭 i mean if there WAS a sub id naturally watch that of course because im all for sub i dont like dubs but like when you dont have a choice… its the dub😭 i of course watch the japanese version (without sub cauze it doesnt exist) sometimes on certain episodes where im like “i GOTTA see how this was in the original) . also the dub isnt bad by any means LMFAO people shit on it but like? Im sorry the joke delivery is a thousand times funnier LMFAO theres just so much like random ass funny shit they say that you know wasnt there in the original version?? Like i just know😭😭i dont know japanese well enough to understand it fully but like theres certain jokes in there that were just added with the dub and you know it.

Fusion ryūga is funny as FUCK. Like one of the major reasons why i dont hate his ass is because Hes literally so fucking funny wdym your father couldnt cut it. I feel like the va started taking him more seriously towards masters LMFAO and from what ive heard from japenese ryūga he has the same seriousness throughout. Tetsuya is also funny in both in both versions…jumbo crab…….crabba whaaaat⁉️⁉️ plus coach steel plus masamunee😭😭😭 Daxiang’s voice difference is also so funny theres something so funny abt his. English dub like. He sounds like hes trying too hard like 99% of the time but hes also silly. He sounds like an angry mother grounding his son when talking to Chao xin in that one episode😭😭 If that makes sense idk i fucking love daxiang… i compared the a scene once where hes like kinda shouting? Screaming? While fighting Julian and Japense va sounds so serious while the eng. the😭the english version😭😭hoAAAAAAAAA😭😭😭HE SOUNDS SO FUNNY HES SO STUPID💔💔💔

one voice i dont like from the japenese version is🤔julian…. Idk what it is but…i dont like it😭😔 a one i dont like from the ENGLISH dub is uh😭im sorry guys but king’s english voice irritates me I KNOW GINGA IS RIGHT THERE BUT THERES SOMETHING ABOUT IT….it just… idk its just irritating 😭😭😭Kyouya is also funny as SHIT in English fuckin. Alpha male wolf no one understands me i feel it deep within its just beneath the skin i must confess that i feel like a monster ass……but his japenese voice??? He sounds like a grown ass man….???? I know teenagers can sound like a grown ass man n have deep voices n shii but like that shit caught be off guard when i first heard it……… damians voice is sooooooo cute in the japenese version it makes me sadd😢 also aint his japanese va romi park🤔that woman who has voiced like every anime character ever LOL including lui from beyblade burst….his cute voice though like😭hes like supposed to be this fuckin. Evil Antagonist n shit and how am i supposed to be intimidated or take him seriously to any level when he sounds like… just a little guy….

I also prefer ziggurat’s english voice over the japenese tbh idk he sounds more evil i think it fits him more😔i dont hate ginga’s english voice (even though my friends say its so irritating they cant bear to listen to it for more than a second lmfao) i prefer the japense version over it yeah…..daidouji is also funny as shitballs omg..he needa stfu but also dont because youre ridiculous yknow. ?

(Talking abt damian again) I mean he is a little guy but his english va sounded so much more like the fucking asshole he was LMFAO…. Also ig his english voice would make more sense hes american idk🤔i dont hate his japanese voice by any means its so cute i love it sm but i just cant take it srsly😭😭😭ive heard fury in japanese the least but one time i specifically watched an episode where almost everyone was there so that i could see how their voices sounded like in the original and?? None of them stood out to me idk😭(well thats fury characters for ya LMFAOO)like they weren’t memorable to me im not saying theyre bad💥💥💥💥english though😭

Theres a way that. Dynamis sounds in the english version thats like. He. Sounds like kinda like a robot like a guy with no inside voice its kinda funny. The robot thing might be bcs hes constantly spewing out exposition and being a plot device but still its like the way he tones his voice sounds like its his first time talking ever ITS NOT BAD ITS FUNNY😭😭maybe it makes sense cauze that mofo lives in that isolated temple or whateva. Also credit to the english ver. Of the scene where Aguma and Kyouya were battling and the argument was literally fucking “youre not a lion youre a house cat in the backyard” (great thing to say when youre on johnnes’s side aguma😬) “GRR what did you just call me” THIS IS A MIDDLE ARGUMENT. THEYRE TALKING LIKE MIDDLE SCHOOLERS ROLEPLAYING IN THE SCHOOLS GARDEN. WHAT IS THIS😭😭its funny i hate them both i hope they die (affectionate)

So uhh which do i prefer? I like both but English dub is more entertaining imo and also i have to watch that one most of the time bcs i literally have no other choice if i wanna understand what theyre saying

[thestayathomedragon]

What the fuck is this? An actual vignette?

my love is a weapon (there’s no second guessin’)

Leon comes into the house, bypasses the living room with the large television currently mounted on the wall and goes right into the kitchen. For some reason he starts duct taping thick black trash bags over his clothes.

"Yeah, the TV’s downstairs in the basement." Leon says absently, pointing to a fairly normal-looking door that looks like it could possibly lead to a fairly normal basement.

The guy that came over to buy a used 70-inch TV for $25 from Leon says, "Uh... okay."

TV Guy goes to the basement door and opens it only to find that it is dark as shit down there so he tries the light switch. "Uh... hey your light doesn't work."

Leon is now finished taping thrash bags over his clothes and putting those little protective shoe baggies they give out at open house showings on the bottom of his boots. When TV Guy looks back at him, he finds that Leon has also pulled some kind of shower cap over his hair for some reason.

“Eh?” Leon says before he walks over and peers down the stairs into the darkness.

"Oh.” He shrugged carelessly. “That's okay. He doesn't need it."

"H-he?" TV Guy asks.

"Don't worry about it." Leon says and then quicker than a blink he shoves the guy down the stairs.

"What the fuck, man!" TV Guy says from the bottom of the stairs. He's a little banged up but he's still got the spirit.

He looks back up the stairs at the silhouette of Leon standing at the top of the stairs blocking out the light from the kitchen.

Leon shrugs again. "Sorry. Must've slipped."

"Saaancho..."

Both of them turn to the direction that deep rumbling voice is coming from and TV Guy finds a pair of glowing golden eyes staring back at him from the darkness.

"You're back early."

Leon can tell Luis is grinning even though he can't see him. He hefts the axe that had been leaning against the banister at the top of the basement stairs onto his shoulder and grins back.

"See. I told you he didn't need it."

Notes: Leon Kennedy is the kind of monster fucking son of a bitch who if his werewolf boyfriend named Luis Serra (who was born in the literal Valley of Wolves - Valdelobos, Spain) preferred to feed off humans instead of animals to survive, then Leon would go hunting every night.

[septentrrional]

I hear their screams and know, though I can't see, though I don't want to see, that some of them are already burning. Next to me, a man with blond hair and a beard, an unfamiliar but familiar face, prays to God, begging him that everything happening now is a nightmare. He has his eyes closed and his hands together. Crushed between the bodies, his elbows pressed to his stomach and his head resting on the shoulder blades of the one in front of him, he begs in a trembling voice, "Please, God, it can't be true, please, God, make it not real," then recites "Our Father." The screams of those who did not reach the container cover his prayer. Flames and smoke rush over us, engulfing us. I feel the fire on my skin. It wraps around my back and I reflexively bring my hands to my face. I try to breathe but this is no longer air, but fire. It burns my throat and boils in my chest with its chemical, toxic smell. My thin fingers curl and the flesh on them snaps loudly. The thick plastic rimmed glasses melt in my palms and the burning liquid runs down my blouse. We fall one by one, but we also burn on the ground, in the ashes made by our bodies. The flame engulfed me completely and I feel it on my head, hands, back, destroying me, undressing me. Burn I have no idea if mine is among the dying voices. Let it end, God, let it end once and for all. It hurts, it hurts! The unworldly wail of fire deafens and eats up our screams. I see my mother and sister. I'm sure I'm going to die and my last thought goes to them. I ask their forgiveness for leaving like this, for the immense suffering I will cause them, for, like my father, leaving this world so quickly. I cry without tears, gasping, defeated. Suddenly, a vast, heavy darkness descends upon me. I went blind. The fire devoured my eyes. I died. Perhaps this is how the beyond begins, or perhaps eternity is nothing but a black ocean, without form, without attributes. It's light again. It takes a while for me to understand that I am alive. Beside me, a girl with long hair sways on her feet. The skin on his hands hangs like wings that have given up flight. “Can you help me up?” I automatically ask her in a dead voice. She tries, but when she touches me with her injured arms, she pulls back. "It hurts too much, forgive me, I have no strength," he tells me. Cry. I feel sorry for her and thank her. "There is nothing". I kind of lean on my left palm. I manage to jump to my feet. The floor itself is terribly hot. The air is less and less and in the bewildered people fear grows again. We rush again. The exit is blocked by overlapping, suffering bodies. Screams were replaced by wailing noises. A couple of guys desperate to save themselves push me out of their way and climb on top of me. They fall with me, too. They are heavy, very heavy and crush me. Not even this sick oxygen enters my lungs. "Please, I'm choking", "Please" I whisper to them, but they don't hear. It's getting darker. My chest squeezes and pops under the weight of their bodies. - Alexandra Furnea in the link above

On the night of 30th October 2015 I remember I was studying for a quiz for the operating systems class next day, smoking a cig while a friend/neighbour came sort of panicked telling me that there was an explosion in the old town.

Turns out it was not an explosion, it was a club fire during a (literally) underground metal concert. 65 people died then and during the next months due too the wounds and to improper treatment, including all the members of the band apart from the singer.

Thinking about it, and of the frequency I started going to metal concerts afterwards (especially underground ones), it was fortunate for me that I had only moved to Bucharest 2 months earlier and didn't yet know all the scene.

I just found out that one of the survivors (Alexandra Furnea) wrote a (short) journal about her experience with the ordeal. The concert, the fire, the treatment while hospitalized, the continous treatment afterwards, the psychological effects.

You will need to use the Translate feature of the browser on this, but it is worth reading.

[cloverrover]

Any Time, Any Place

A/N: I wanted to do a Scott fic and I got inspiration from the usual #thotsquad antics so Thots, enjoy

Warnings: it's spicier than I normally write that's for sure so just to be safe MINORS DNI or is2g I'll block you faster than I blocked my ex

WC: 680

“Oh God please don’t stop!”

“Not God. But I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.”

You couldn’t help the chortle of laughter at his comment on not being God. Whoever discovered the algorithm that funny guys are where it’s at, should be paid because this man, child really, had you the moment he opened his mouth.

But lord was he good at distracting you from the current predicament. Sitting on an unstable ledge with Scotts head buried in your neck while he’s got his hands gripping your thighs so hard you already know there’s going to be bruises. And he’s finishing at a brutal pace that has you making some sound you’ve never made and Scott’s never heard. And you wouldn’t know it but Scott instantly is thinking of ways to get that sound out of you as well.

PNC slams into you, while he’s getting everything back in order, so hard you start snot laughing. You’re almost worried about grossing him out, but after being with him from the start of his Ant-Man training, you’re not worried. He’s also a dad and knows how the human body functions and isn’t grossed out about it.

He damn near folded himself like a lawn chair when he heard the noise, startled so bad he nearly had a heart attack.

You’re snorting like a pig now and him covering your mouth with his hand barely contains the noise and before he knows it, Scott is laughing right along with you. Soon you’re half on each other and half trying to keep upright and not knock over anymore things in the closet that have already been knocked over.

You can’t take this man anywhere really, not even to a damn parent teacher conference even though Cassie is his daughter not yours. Eventually you manage to pull yourselves together and his arms are around your hips, trapping you on the ledge that’s about to give.

“Ok I know I’m not like Steve Rogers but maybe don’t laugh like the kraken when you’ve literally got me leaking out.”

A pointed look to your legs has you giggling again when you realize he’s accurate.

“I’m sorry babe. I am. But I saw this thing once in the group chat that someone sent to me. And there’s speculation on you doing that in the suit any time, any place, and you could grow or shrin-”

You can’t finish your sentence before you’re crying laughing now. The idea that Scott would have sex while wearing the suit AND be able to shrink and grow was entirely too funny to you.

“Jesus Christ what kind of friends are in this chat?”

You’re having a hard time breathing now you’re laughing so hard.

“To be fair, it was Katy who originally found it then sent it in the chat.”

Scott groans at the mention of Katy. He knew the second there was another hero located in San Francisco he was doomed. He was going to need to chat with Shangqi if he wanted to keep Y/N away from the madness that Katy routinely brings her into.

“Before you say anything don’t you dare think about talking to Shangqi about Katy. It’s nice to finally have a friend on this side of the coast.”

“Well I guess they better meet Luis.”

He kisses you to confirm the idea, and just because.

“I might not talk to him, but I’m definitely talking to her about that theory. I want to find out as much as you but I don’t think Hank will approve that kind of experiment with his suits.”

“He didn’t approve of you going to Germany either and look where that got you.”

“Ahem excuse you he didn’t know about Germany.”

You’re looking at like he’s stupider than an infant.

“Ok so he didn’t know about Germany until I was in the raft.”

Another look.

“Ok ok! Jeez woman you should try talking to prisoners that won’t give information with that damn stare. So he knew about Germany.”

“Scott, dear, my love, Hank knows all just accept that. But I’m down to test this out as long as you don’t tell Luis. Then we’re well and truly fucked because Hank will never trust me again near his work”

“You? What about me?!”

You’ve opened the door from the closet by now and make a point to stare at him even harder. Doing the absolute best to not break, it’s impossible. Steve Rogers may give off the energy and demeanor of a golden retriever but Scott. Oh Scott is a pure lab type. Not a thought behind his eyes just here to vibe.

Laughing at the adorable pout, you motion over for him to actually get out of the damn closet before you get in trouble with Cassie’s teacher for being late.

“Come on Mr. Spy we can finish this talk after.”

Kissing you softly on your temple, you lean your body into his while his arm wraps around your shoulder. Maybe one of these days you’d convince him to try it and report back to Katy on the accuracy of the theory or not.s

[star-killer-md]

Actus Reus, Mens Rea

@contesa-lui-alucard asked:

Hey hey happy sleepover my friend!! If it’s alright with you, I have two prompts from the Smut list that I’d love to see you combine for... mob Kylo and lawyer reader! Oh snap!! 15 & 37, if you please. If not, no worries, I still hope you have an awesome sleepover 😁 (“Make it hurt, baby.” + “Lay back and touch yourself. I want to watch.”)

Anon asked:

hello, may i request clingy/possessive kylo,, thank you

Thank you lovlies for your requests and sorry from the bottom of my depressed ass heart that it took me so fucking long. Anyway here ya go, hope you enjoy some mobster Kylo deliciousness. I’m so excited you liked him Contesa, and I hope you’re into it as well too nonny! Sorry it got long, I truly have no control over that. 

And thank you so much to @sacklersdoll for reading over this for me!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Angst (its me), Smut (its me), mentions of predator/prey dynamic (mostly as metaphor), possessive Kylo Ren, semi-public sex, no pronouns for the reader by they are afab, dominant Kylo Ren, some brat vibes, Kylo Ren is not nice, allusions to guns, some sorta stalking behavior

Ship: Mob Boss!Kylo Ren x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: You’ve started to take on some pro bono clients as a favor to a friend and Kylo Ren is Not A Fan™ of all the attention this guy has been paying you. After a few months of consulting on the side, you’re beginning to wonder if life working for a mob boss is something you’re really cut out for. Though you quickly learn that you very well may have passed the point of no return when Kylo shows up at your office to remind you just who exactly you work for. 

“I really can’t thank you enough.”

You shook the woman’s hands and returned her smile. Her son stayed quiet, looking at the ground, but mumbled his thanks as well. He was a good kid. Just pissed off the wrong neighbor. One of those ‘get off my lawn,’ ‘good ole American dream’ types who thought welfare was a sign of the devil, and had it out for everyone in the lower tax brackets. 

“Really, it’s no problem,” you walked them to the door, leaving her your business card. “I’ll see you both at the courthouse on Monday.” 

Evan was waiting in your office when you returned. His patent leather shoes rested precariously on the corner of your desk and you knocked them off with a huff. 

“See you’ve made yourself at home,” you said, crossing your arms and staring down at him in your chair. 

He shrugged and stood under your scrutiny, moving around to take the seat across from you. Evan Goodman was an old friend from undergrad. You often got the impression he was still that same cocky frat boy in the head. Still flashed the ‘my daddy has more money than you’ smile on occasion when he really wanted to get under your skin. With his slicked back hair, unnervingly straight teeth, and his annoying prosperity despite never putting in much effort it was somewhat shocking the two still spoke. He was simply not the type of person who had ever needed to try. Success came naturally to him, and much to your dismay.

“What can I say? You’re a very gracious host,” he mused and leaned forward on the desk. “So, how did it go?”

You sighed, “They’ll be alright, might get saddled with a fine but the charges aren’t that serious.” 

“Good, Rosa’s an old friend. I would have helped her out myself, but not really my deal ya know?”

“Yeah, Mr. Tax Attorney, I get it.” 

Evan was kind of a dick, but he was also the kind of friend who would sit on the bathroom floor with you, hold your hair back and sing horrendous parody versions of ABBA no matter who heard. So you couldn’t hate him entirely. That also meant that when he came to you with cases like this, a favor for a friend or whatever the situation may be, you had a hard time refusing. 

It was also a convenient front for you not-so-legal legal work you’d been invested in for the past few months.

“Seriously, I know I’ve been asking a lot of you recently,” he flashed you that god awful grin and kicked his feet up again. “You can tell me to fuck off if it’s too much.” 

He had been coming to you for pro bono work with increasing frequency, especially over the past month or so, but again, you didn’t wholly mind it. You went into this kind of work for a reason. Though, you were starting to get the feeling that a certain, brooding, less than lawfully abiding businessman did not feel the same. 

Kylo Ren dealt frequently with the shady, black market underbelly of capitalist society, but you were less accustomed to his world and not completely ready to throw yourself to the hounds just yet.

You had already missed more than a few meetings and canceled on dinner tonight to meet with Rosa. To be fair, it wasn’t as if he’d made any indication this ill-defined whatever-it-was going on between the two of you was anything serious. And you were only his consultant, for now, so this took precedent anyway. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. Definitely not a way to avoid thinking about fucking your boss who also happened to be in with the mob. 

Definitely not.  

“I wouldn’t have agreed to help if I couldn’t manage it,” you yawned softly and stood to collect your things. 

It was late and you were beginning to fantasize about how soft and warm your sheets would be. If you got back in time you could pop them in the dryer and get in an episode or two before bed. 

“Hey, let me at least buy you dinner or something since I kept you out so late,” Evan parked his skinny frame in your path to the doorway. 

“You’re going to apologize for keeping me out late, by keeping me out even later?”

“Do you want free food or not?”

Pursing your lips, you stared at him for a few moments. He really did know all your weaknesses. You had skipped out on meeting with Mr. Ren—or Kylo or sir or whatever the hell you were supposed to call him now—already tonight, however, Evan was sure to take you somewhere nice and it wouldn’t be so morally repugnant if it was just as a ‘thank you….’

“Okay, fine,” you conceded and let him lead you out to the parking garage, locking the office up behind you. 

***

The next morning you stumbled past reception in a haze. Both from lack of sleep, and the bitingly cold winds battering your building despite the neighboring high rises blocking the brunt of the gale. The young woman at the desk informed you tersely that a Mr. Goodman was already waiting for you in your office and that you should really get here on time if you were expecting clients this early. 

You agreed that, yes you probably should but, you know, “trains and all that mess,” and tried not to judge her too harshly. After all, she was the barrier between you and the hundreds of calls this place received daily. 

Before slipping through the door with your name plate, you hung your coat on the rack and switched your phone on. It’d died on you last night amidst the allure of fancy, late night dinner and your sleep deprivation riddled brain had not cared enough to plug it in before bed. Fuck Amazon, but thank god for its speedy delivery of portable charges. 

You chewed your lip as the lock screen came to life. One missed call and a text. Both, of course from the most anxiety inducing sender, Kylo Ren. Because why would it be anyone else? His name menacing even typed out in standard black font. 

The text read:

Meet me at 8am.

It was very much like him—a command with punctuation and absolutely no details. The message receipt showed it was sent two hours ago, and it was already half past eight. Shit. Your fingers shook as you pulled up his contact and called. Every interaction left you coursing with adrenaline. Even now, miles away listening to the dial tone was nerve-wracking. Your heart pounded, hands slick in their grip on your phone. Maybe it was because you were never sure where you stood with him. Maybe it was because he was handsome and he knew it. Strong and he knew it. Intimidating and mysterious and closer in some ways to a Greek god than a man. He was all encompassing, and filled every available space in any room he occupied. 

Sometimes you thought you might choke on his presence. 

It rang once, twice, three times before cutting out completely. You stared down at the blank screen, biting your lip and shooting off a quick text. You were sorry, something important had come up, you would meet him the second it was convenient. 

Evan slapped you heartily on the back when you came into the room. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, evergreen with small white blossoms. 

“So, how many hours did you manage last night?” he asked, smiling his shit eating smile and seemingly unaffected despite the fact that he had to be running on just as little sleep as you.  

“I’m not even sure at this point,” you groaned as you tossed your bags down behind the little metal desk. “Time ceases to exist when you take trains past midnight.”

“Fair enough. Hey look,” Evan waved the greenery in your face, “courtesy of Rosa’s shop. She insisted I bring you something as thanks. I figured you could put them out in the front or something to brighten things up.” 

“They’re lovely. Please tell me you’re only here as a glorified delivery boy.”

His shoulders slumped at your lack of amusement, but before he could quip back the landline in your office rang. You answered, holding a finger towards Evan and leaning against the edge of the desk. It was the receptionist, Jess was her name? Maybe? You could never remember, someone else always addressed the holiday gift cards anyway. 

“There’s someone here to see you at the front desk,” she clipped, almost more exasperated than before. 

You told her you’d be right there and hung up. Evan grabbed his coat as you headed out, holding the door for you and following into the hall. 

“I’ll leave you to it if you’re busy, but give me a call after Monday and tell me how it goes,” he continued rambling as you came out into the front.

You had a smart comeback prepared, something about how simple the case was, he should have more faith in you, he was the reason you were busy in the first place, etc…but every word turned to ashes on your tongue when you saw him. 

Kylo Ren, standing right there at the desk and glaring at your receptionist. His suit was dark blue and ironed to perfection. Each leg was creased perfectly down the front and the jacket sat flawlessly on his wide set shoulders. He was a wall of unimaginably expensive fabric and what looked concerning like barely contained rage. You could see it in the twitch of his eye, the set of his jaw, and in the way his gaze landed on you the second you walked in. 

The way a predator immediately hones in on its prey. 

You froze just feet from him in the lobby, floundering like a fish on a hook. 

Evan, for his part, seemed not to notice the tension at all and continued to say his long winded goodbyes, placing the flowers in your hands and completely unaware of the slow, measured tightening of Kylo’s massive hands into fists at his side. 

“I’m free on Monday evening so we should—” 

“She’ll be busy.” 

Evan frowned, turning to face the man standing before him, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Kylo’s voice was a dark thing, low and rumbling, “She will be otherwise occupied.” 

His words were punctuated by a step towards you, one paw of a hand easily gripping your entire jaw. Lucky he did too, otherwise it would have dropped straight to the floor when he shot one last cobra strike glare in Evan’s direction, and pressed his mouth to yours. Right there. In the lobby. For everyone to see.  

The absolute bastard.

His lips were pillow plump and softer than the silk lining of his suit—and even through the surge of shock and embarrassment and more than a touch of anger—you felt your heart throb at the way he licked into your mouth. 

The flowers tumbled from your hands onto the floor as everything in you went limp under his touch. This was nowhere near the first time you’d tasted him, but it was like this every time. Like drinking ambrosia. An otherworldly experience. 

But that didn’t stop the sharp pain of his crushing grip on your arm, the way he nearly lifted your feet off the floor when he pulled away to drag along behind him. You could hear Evan spluttering in the hall behind you, the receptionist going back to clacking at her keyboard as if nothing had happened. 

When Kylo opened your office door he just about threw you inside. You tripped as he tipped you in, stumbling and catching yourself on the edge of your desk. The power behind his hand alone was undeniable. You shuddered at the thought of the array of purple fingerprints he would leave behind. It made your mouth dry and your heart sink. Confusing and delicious. 

And left you seething nonetheless. 

“What the fuck was that?!” you were not calm, so you didn’t attempt any semblance of it. 

“You didn’t answer me,” he said, level as he always was. 

The quiet before the storm and all that. 

“About the meeting? I tried to call, my phone died—”

“Because you were out catching trains at all hours of the night, I’m aware.” 

You paused, glaring at the wall of muscle between you and the door, “How did you know that?”

“So you’re not denying it?”

Kylo stalked towards you like a beast in his tailored suit and polished leather shoes like talons. You could hear your heartbeat, hear the blood rushing in your ears. Just like a rabbit in the sightline of a hawk, you were clearly being hunted. 

“Why would I deny something I’m not trying to hide?” your voice came out horse as he caged you between the desk and his chest, arms on either side to block any route of escape. 

“No you are certainly not adept at subtlety,” he said and you couldn’t take your eyes off the way his tongue moved behind his teeth. “This is the fifth time that idiot in the hall has distracted you from work.”

“That’s not an answer,” you tried to spit the words but his eyes were boring into you. The honey of them spilled down your spine and made you shiver. “How did you know? You are not entitled to any information pertaining to my personal life, regardless.” 

“Watch your mouth,” he growled. “Entitlement has no part in this.”

You were entering dangerous territory, though stopping curiously did not occur to you.

“I don’t think you have the right to be throwing out commands right now, not after that display.”

“Have you forgotten who you work for?” Kylo hissed at you, hands wrapped around the metal of your desk so hard you thought it might warp under his fingers. 

“Of course not,” you desperately tried to keep your voice down lest anyone get even more a spectacle. 

“Then what is this?” one hand left the desk and pulled a phone from inside his jacket. 

The screen lit up, and you looked in horror at pictures of yourself. Pictures of yourself from last night. Pictures of yourself from last night at dinner with Evan, interspersed with shots of you crossing the street, waiting on the train platform, and stumbling back into your apartment. Each was clearer than you’d expected, presumably from some insanely expensive surveillance equipment. You had been out for hours, and you had been watched the whole time. 

You narrowed your eyes, flicking back and forth between Kylo’s face—the graceful bridge of his nose pointed down at you—and gaped. 

“You had me followed…” you breathed the words into the slowly shrinking space between your bodies. 

He simply nodded, as if, somehow, you were foolish for not having considered this before. Perhaps you were. Perhaps you had no idea what you had gotten yourself into. Perhaps you had signed on for much more than a paycheck when you agreed to work for Kylo Ren. 

“I can’t have my employees getting distracted.”

Kylo slowly drifted ever closer, shoulders bent so he was eye level with you. He pressed further into the desk, pinning you between his body and the hard surface that bit into your ass. Something long and thick and hard nudged your thigh. 

“I don’t know why you though having me followed was necessary—” 

“You’re an arrogant little slut who needs to be reminded of your priorities,” his hand snatched your leg and wrenched it open so he could stand between them, “ I am not something you do on the side.” 

You could hear the way his teeth grit out the words, the way they formed as a growl deep in his beast’s throat. The hand still settled on the desk, skimmed up your hip and chest, his fingers 

biting into your jaw. 

“Do you understand me?”

Your lips were shut tight in a thin line, eyes wide and staring up like the prey you were. The silence only provoked him more. Snarling, two thick fingers wrenched your mouth open, pressing hard on your tongue and making you gag around them. 

“Answer.” 

Kylo Ren almost always spoke in commands. Having power did that to people, and rarely did it ever compel you, but his words sunk deep into your bones. Dredged up some dark, instinctual need to obey. To submit to this show of control. 

“Yes,” you mumbled around his fingers in your mouth, drool slipping past your lips when they moved. 

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You watched him suck his teeth, grabbing your face tighter and dragging you close so he could spit directly into your open mouth. He slammed your jaw shut, nearly taking off the tip of your tongue and hissed into your ear. 

“Swallow.” 

Again, you did without a thought. And it was disgusting, but invigorating, sent off some spark in your stomach with how easily he bent your body to his will. There was no man like him, you decided. And maybe this was simply because Kylo Ren was not a man. That term alone would never do him justice. 

In one shockingly smooth motion, you found yourself flat on your back, ass hanging off the edge of the desk with his hands on your hips. He ground himself against you, the throbbing of his cock evident even through the layers of clothing. That feeling on its own had you soaked through, thighs sticking with liquid excitement. 

“Remember who you work for,” he growled into your neck, licking a long stripe up your throat and sucking at the exposed skin. 

But it was very clear to you what he really meant. 

Remember who you belong to. 

You slapped a hand over your mouth as he bit down on the skin just above your shoulder, laving his tongue over the stinging flesh. Kylo pulled back, frowning down at you and yanking the hand away from your face. One held both your wrists in a vice lock while the other ripped your panties straight down your legs and left the dripping fabric discarded on the carpet. 

“No, they’re going to hear you,” he grunted, and pulled one of your hands down, pressing it to your slit and running your fingers through your slick. “Go on, touch your fucking pussy and let them know what a little whore you are for me.” 

It was something about his voice. Something in the way it left him, its timbre, its wonder, unquestioning. You could never refuse him. 

So, with a small nod you parted your folds, head resting on a stack of files as you drew slow circles around your clit with a shaky hand. His eyes never left your cunt, tracing the movement of your finger and the trail of wetness that seeped from you to the desktop. Softly, you gasped as the familiar placement of your fingers made you clench and arch up. Kylo’s rubbed small circles into your inner thighs with his thumbs, kneading the flesh there. 

When the spark was there, the lovely pulsing in your nerves alight, you dipped down, teasing and slipping inside, grinding down as best you could on your hand. It wasn’t enough, but nothing ever was since you’d been ripped open on Kylo’s cock. 

Evidently he did not find your work sufficient either. 

Another finger joined yours, stroking your lips and circling your entrance. His touch made you whine, the promise of hands that were not your own never ceasing to illicit a new gush of pleasure. 

“I said,” he murmured, his touch so terribly feather light. “Let them hear you.” 

He was like a gunshot, sudden and forceful and almost instantly had you screaming. Kylo slammed his fingers into you, so full and so deep, curling hard against that lovely spot inside. 

“Kylo, god, please—” you moaned long and low, your face burning with the knowledge that the walls were barely thick enough to keep your phone calls private, much less the shameful noises he pulled from you. 

“What was that?” he panted, adding another finger and pumping them deep into your cunt. “You can do better.” 

Your teeth dug so hard into your lip you thought it might bleed, but you couldn’t take much more. The ledge was approaching—Kylo Ren knew it—and he was determined to push you straight into the fire. 

You choked when his deliciously thick fingers were ripped from you, walls fluttering around the awful emptiness. Your head lolled back as you listened to him work the buckle of his belt and slacks open, and when you did glance down your mouth watered at the sight. Kylo—impossibly long cock throbbing in his hand—stood between your legs, stroking himself from root to tip. You watched little pearls of precum bead at the head while his thumb swiped across to smear them along his length. 

“You are insane,” you hissed through gritted teeth. 

Did you need to keep this position? No, technically you would be more than well off on the salary Mr. Ren so graciously provided. However, you could not mentally deal with being terminated for getting dicked in your office during work hours. 

Kylo smirked, the edge of his perfect cupid’s bow cocked back and aimed straight at your chest. Without warning, he sunk into you, straight to the hilt and threw his head back as you sobbed with the sharp sting of being split in two on his cock. 

“This is what you do,” he growled into your ear, hands on either side of your head as he worked his length back out only to pound into you again. “You work for me and you take my cock and don’t ever fucking forget that.”  

Your legs were wound so tightly around his waist that had he been any other man, his ribs would have cracked under the pressure. His hair, falling in black, satin waves, was gorgeous even in the sterile office lighting. You threaded your fingers into it at the roots and held him while your body rocked against the desk. It’s metal surface pinched at your sink and made your back ache, though that was nothing compared to the burn of Kylo’s thrusts, sliding against your walls. You felt him in your throat. You always did. That was simply the way things were with him. He filled you painfully, thoroughly, took over all of your senses until it was just him. 

And, strangely, it was the most alive you’d ever felt. 

He was unlike anyone you’d ever known.

You couldn’t scream for him, but you could still let him taste the desperation, the willingness in your body to mold against him. So you kissed him, dragged him by the hair to meet your lips and licked past his teeth, gasping and moaning on his tongue as you sucked it hard and cried into his mouth. 

And he drank you down, picking up a punishing rhythm and breaking blood vessels where his hands gripped your hips. One drifted lower, thumb pressing down hard on your clit as your cunt clenched around his length. The desk was lifting off the ground with every thrust, the room filled with the wet sounds of your bodies and you were quickly melting under him. 

Warmth was spreading, growing, building out from your pussy, igniting in your veins. He was right. This is what you did. This is what he did to you. This toe curling, lip biting, bone shattering kind of pleasure. 

Oh you were so royally fucked. 

“I—oh shit—Kylo I’m,” you pulled back just enough to pant out a warning before the wave took you. 

So hot, it washed over your skin and made your legs shake and your hands leave his hair to dig your nails into his chest through the crisp white button down he wore. 

“Feel that?” he grunted as you convulsed and shuddered under him, “Feel how this pussy was made for me.” 

You nodded, buried your face in his neck and held on as he worked you through your climax and straight into his own. Once, twice he ground his cock deep in you, feeling how tight you were around him until he was spent and spilling hot, thick ropes of cum that coated your walls and dripped out around his length. 

He panted, lazily rolling his hips, fucking you slowly until finally, he came to a halt with his softening cock still sheathed inside you. Seconds past, or maybe hours, you couldn’t tell. Kylo tended to have that effect on you. Time slipped away so easily in his presence, like there was never enough of it. 

When he did pull away, you stayed with your back firmly planted amidst the mess of scattered paperwork and manila envelopes. He rose to his full, towering height and tucked himself away, straightening the wrinkles in his suit and eyeing you only once from the side. You admired his profile, you never understood until now what the meaning of the word “regal” truly was. 

Under the dictionary definition, his picture surely would be there, staring at you down the bridge of his marble carved nose. 

You sat up on your elbows as he stalked towards the door. 

“Was that all you came for?”

Kylo paused, broad back still facing you and leaving the room feeling irrevocably empty with just the intention of his absence. 

“We’ll reschedule for five tonight,” he said, filling the door frame completely. “Don’t be late.” 

The door clicked shut behind him and the sound of it made you collapse back onto the desktop. You laid there for a moment, leaking your combined spend and aching. The throb of him settled in your muscles and festered. But the worst part was the other ache, the pain of being without. And maybe you had been a bit avoidant. Maybe this work really was so you didn’t have to see him. Because if you saw him you’d end up fucking him—which was fine, which was good, which was great actually—but then he would leave. And you couldn’t decide which wanting was worse. The wanting before or the wanting after. 

Maybe it didn’t matter. 

You had more important things to think about anyway. Like securing the receptionist an incredibly large holiday bonus, assuming you still had a job here at the end of the day. 

Maybe that didn’t matter either. 

It might be high time you made a commitment to whatever the hell kind of mess you’d stumbled into. Kylo Ren was an enigma in the best kind of way. Maybe you should stop running from it. 

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicMas20 Day 3: Married in Vegas

I hope December is treating everyone well <3 Today’s offering is ‘Married in Vegas’. G requested it to be included in FicMas months ago, and it’s here. In pieces, because I may have over-estimated how ‘ready’ it was to be seen. 

It also degenerated into something terribly depressing, when I was definitely going for something happier, rom-com meets coming of age, so large chunks definitely need to be rewritten.  

Oh, and if you want more of a specific fic, you NEED to tell me, or it will simply languish on my harddrive, forgotten forever.  

Onwards!

--

I meet him on a Thursday night, in the shitty little bar where I work. We talk, he drinks, and then he leaves.

By Saturday night, I am Mrs Alice Whitlock-Hale, with a ring bought from some cheap jewellery vendor and a plastic flower crown in my hair.

It was the best night of my life.

--

Okay, so I could start at the beginning. But the true beginning is a four-year-old girl being left behind when her mom runs away with her baby sister, and the middle is when, at fourteen, that girl is thrown out of her father’s house. She tries to go home once, at sixteen, only to find out that her dad and step-monster moved away. Left the state and left her behind without so much as a forwarding address.

But that story is depressing as hell, so we’ll start when things get interesting.

My ‘husband’ – Jasper Whitlock-Hale - was a strapping 6-foot-something soldier fresh from his last tour – honourably discharged, he was quick to inform me when we first met, and I could tell that was a point of some pride for him.  

I worked at a bar called ‘Sassy’s’. It had been opened in the 70s and I was pretty sure it hadn’t been cleaned or redecorated since those halcyon days. The current owner was Bruno – his son, Emil, was the manager. They were both decent, in that they paid me on time and never groped me. It’s pretty sad when those factors qualify as ‘decent’, but you tend not to be too picky when you’re applying for work at places like ‘Sassy’s’.

Especially when you’re an underage runaway.

How were we still in business? Well, we did dollar beers after nine at night (it wasn’t good beer), and we served pretty good nachos, and we had a huge flat-screen television. Oh, and we ignored any kind of gambling that happened in the dark corners.

It started off as a totally normal night – the usual crowd waiting for their cheap beers, wiping down sticky tables, and killing time. If I was lucky, there wouldn’t be any decent sports playing tonight, and no one would bitch much if I switched the channel over.

He walked through the door just after nine, limping quite obviously. He was wearing a button-down shirt, jeans and a worn leather jacket. He looked kind of haunted – but that isn’t exactly unusual in Vegas; if you don’t arrive with regrets, you’re probably going to leave with them.

He also looked too young, too clean and way too promising to be a patron at Sassy’s. I was slinging beer at that point, as he approached.  

“Beer, please,” he said as he sat at the bar.

“Dollar, thanks,” I said with a smile, grabbing a chipped – but clean – glass, and grabbed a dish of peanuts. They were pretty good – more than often, they were my dinner.

“Thanks,” he nodded once, staring at the amber liquid for a moment. He looked exhausted.

I kept working – stacking fresh glasses, packing the dirty ones into the ancient dishwasher behind the bar that Bruno had installed last summer, so proudly. Pretty sure it was older than me, but it meant that I didn’t have to deal with the washing-up anymore, so I smiled and thanked him, as if I didn’t spend at least half a shift trying to get the damned thing to work.

“Mija!” Luis ducked his head out of the kitchen, passing me a plate.

“Thanks,” I said. “Need a drink?”

“Nah, just fine girly.”

Luis had it easy. He was in college, so this was a part-time gig for him – he only came in two nights a week. He earned twice what I earned, but we didn’t get as many orders for food, so he got to sit in the tiny-ass kitchen (seriously, two people couldn’t fit back there) and study. He’d make me dinner every shift we worked together, which was nice of him. Tonight was grilled cheese.

On quiet nights, I liked to prop the kitchen door open, and sit on the bar and listen to him talk about his classes while I ate. He was always hinting about me going to college, about financial assistance and scholarships, but it just wasn’t going to happen for me.

I had a mouthful of food when the group in the corner started yelling for more drinks. These guys knew Bruno and Emil, so I had to tolerate their smart-ass mouths. They liked to tease the ‘princess’ who worked there. I got that from a lot of regulars, but these guys liked to imply that I was a whore, and tell me they’d wait for me after work to ‘test me out’.

Luis said it was because they were testing me, and they were pissed that Bruno never fired the white girl. Camila, one of the ex-waitresses, was the daughter of one of them and that was why they never tipped me. A form of protest. I never breathed a word about it, and treated them just as well as any other customer.

“Beers, gentlemen,” I said, sliding the tray onto the table. “Can I get you anything else?”

“I’ll say,” one of them leered and another slapped me on the ass. I rolled my eyes and turned to go back to the bar.

“Rough night?” the guy at the bar said as I returned.

“What? Oh, them,” I shrugged, picking up my sandwich. “They’re here every night.”

“They act like that all the time?” he asked.

“Yeah, but they’re just blowing off steam. Don’t like that I kept my job and one of their daughters didn’t,” I said. “Can I get you another?”

“Please.” He watched me move carefully. “What’s your name?”

“Mary,” I said, placing another beer in front of him, and grabbing a soda for myself.

“Jasper, ma’am,” he said.

“Nice to meet you, Jasper. You from around here?”

--

By closing time, Jasper had nursed four beers and half my sandwich – which he inhaled like he hadn’t eaten in a while. We’d chatted. He’d just returned from his third tour in the Middle East – he didn’t say much about that, though I heard some pride in his voice when he mentioned it.

We talked about Vegas a bit, about the things he missed when he was overseas (his aunt’s chocolate cake, the cool forests of Washington state, and books). He was just passing through Vegas, here for a few days. Trying to adjust back to civilian life.

He stayed as I cleaned up, loading the dishwasher and scrubbing down the benches and tables. He watched as David and Sammy came up to pay, smirking as I leant over the bar to reach the money, giving them an unwilling flash of my pitiful cleavage.

All twenty-six dollars of it, in crumpled bills.

“Thanks,” I smiled brightly, handing them a receipt and a package of matches with the logo on it. They grunted at me and left. Their table was a mess of napkins, peanuts and glasses.

“Hope they tipped you well,” Jasper said as he watched me load the tray.

“Oh, they don’t tip. They hate me,” I said, as I piled the garbage onto a tray.

“How long were they here?”

“Since five. It’s fine, really,” I said. “It’s tradition.”

“No, it’s being an asshole,” Jasper muttered.

Luis chose that moment to leave the kitchen, bag on his shoulder.

“It’s closing time,” he sung at me, just like every night. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!”

I snorted. “Well, Jasper, it’s been nice talking to you, but I have to lock up,” I said with a little regret. He was a nice guy, and nice guys didn’t spend a lot of time at Sassy’s.

“Do you need a lift home?” he offered and then froze. “Sorry, that sounded really… seedy. I was going to offer to split a cab.”

“Thank you, but Luis gives me a lift,” I said.

“Okay. Do … you work any other nights this week?” he asked, almost shyly.

Luis was doing his best to be invisible, grabbing the trash and dragging it out the back.

“Tomorrow morning, from eleven til seven, I said. “Beer is full-priced, I’m sorry to say.”

“Okay. Thanks. It was nice talking to you,” he said again, fumbling with his words.

“You too. And if I don’t see you again, have a good time in Vegas,” I said, and, leaving money tucked under his glass, Jasper finally rose and limped out.

I sighed; dumping the glass in the sink and counting out the four dollars for the till, I jammed the tip into my bra. There wasn’t much else to do – I was opening tomorrow; we opened from 11am til 1am, so it would be me who unpacked the soda in the backroom, and the glasses and ran a mop over the perpetually sticky floor. So I could go into the kitchen and change out of my uniform and go and find Luis.

Once the hot pink wig was peeled off, my black hair stuck clammily to my face. My make-up had mostly melted off and it was a relief to tug on my leggings and hoodie and grab my bag.

Luis was waiting for me in the car as I locked up.

“So, you and soldier boy,” he began as soon as I got in.

“Ugh, really?” I pulled my tip out of my bra. “He was alone, and flirting with the waitress. Won’t see him again.” It had been a quiet night – fourteen dollars, plus whatever Jasper had left me. I mean, on average, I made maybe twenty-five dollars in tips a night.

And I stared. Two twenty dollar bills were staring at me, along with six dollars. A forty six dollar tip for four dollar beers. And half a cold grilled cheese sandwich.

“No, he didn’t like you at all,” Luis drawled.

“Shut up,” I grumbled, but inside I was giddy. He was dashing, and smart and polite. And now I could make my rent.

“Here were are. Sleep well,” Luis pulled up in front of the apartment block.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said, spinning my keys around my finger, and headed home.

The apartment block was a grim brick building of roughly eighty apartments. I lived in number 48. Well, I rented a room in number 48. The apartment was really Victoria’s. Victoria had two kids and never actually told me what she did for a living. Nothing would surprise me. She was a bitch, didn’t give a shit about her kids, but rented out the third closet-sized bedroom complete with air mattress and a locked closet full of canned soup to me for the princely sum of eighty bucks a week.

//

What did I know about my new husband?

He walked with a limp – I was guessing an injury that got him discharged from the military.

He had a twin sister – one he spoke of with equal parts affection and irritation.  

He liked history – American military history, specifically.

He was raised in Texas, until his mother died when he was 10. He and his sister were packed off to live with his mom’s best friend and her husband in the wilds of Washington state, where he stayed until he finished high school. He never mentioned his father.

And he was a consummate gentleman.

I, on the other hand, lied my head off.

Well, I only told the usual lies – I was 21, earning money for college, hoping to be a nurse one day. Oh, and when he asked about my family, I told him they were dead. It was better to keep it simple, it meant there were no questions.

We got married on the Strip, Saturday night.

And when he woke up Sunday morning looking hilariously horrified at the fact we got married, I might have exaggerated how drunk I was.

That makes me sound like the worst kind of person, and I don’t think I am, really.

I mean, he was dressed very nicely, he had a black AmEx, and was clearly educated. But I didn’t want to take advantage of him, truly. I wasn’t looking for money or anything. He was so nice, so handsome and he made me feel safe. And before she left me, my mom always told me that life was meant to be full of adventures, and I had to get out there and grab them with both hands. She didn’t leave me with many good memories, so I kind of held onto that advice.

Just once, for a moment, I wanted to pretend to be the type of girl who could marry someone like Jasper Whitlock. The kind of girl who got to stay in beautiful hotel suites.

He kept apologising to me, seemingly more shocked that I had slept on the hotel couch than the idea we had gotten drunk, married and might have had sex. He looked completely panicked, pacing and muttering and staring at me like a stranger.

I took advantage of the giant bathtub and the endless selection of bath gels and lotions whilst he tried to be subtle about the panicked phone calls he was making, his knuckles white as he gripped the damning piece of paper that declared us husband and wife in the state of Nevada.

I emerged smelling of cherry blossoms and lavender. I mean, I only had the previous night’s clothes – my black mini-skirt, leggings, a Sassy’s tank top and my poor flats – but at least I was clean and tidy.

“I need to shower,” Jasper managed as I came out. “There’s coffee and juice if you want something.”

“Thanks,” I smiled.

As I went to grab a drink, his phone buzzed and I looked down to see the messages flash across the screen, one after the other.

ROSALIE (CELL) 9:17:04am: Cut the tramp loose. C spoke to E & u can annul when u get home. JFC.

CARLISLE (WORK) 9:17:11am: I’ve spoken to Eleazer, and he’s willing to work this out.

EDWARD (CELL) 9:17:24am: Tell me this is a joke or something. Rosalie keeps shrieking every time she calls.

ESME (CELL) 9:17:31am: Rosalie told us. Bring her home with you and we can fix it. Love you XOXO

BELLA (iMessage) 9:17:49am: R u ok? Saw on R’s FB what happened.

EMMETT (CELL) 9:18:00am: Did u srsly marry a stripper in Vegas?!?

EMMETT (CELL) 9:18:09am: Rose is losing her shit. Nice knowing u.

EMMETT (CELL) 9:18:34am: At least send pix of what she looks like dude.

I turned away from the phone, though it was fascinating watching the messages pop up. My cellphone was a beat-up second-hand Sidekick Tiffy had given me for my seventeenth birthday, the back bedazzled in pink and purple, and the only text messages I got were from Luis, Emil and Bruno, about work.

Or Victoria, bitching about the rent.

I grabbed my drink and sat on the couch, flipping on the television whilst I waited for Jasper to finish in the shower. He emerged, looking calmer, though pale and hung over, snatching up his phone, with a towel slung around his hips. I tried not to stare – goddamnit, this guy should not be marrying strange bartenders in Vegas. He would have absolutely no trouble getting a date. I knew I was bright red, refocusing on whatever cartoons were playing on the screen.

Jasper took me to breakfast at the hotel restaurant afterwards - I felt super underdressed with my sweater over my top, as I was served the fanciest eggs I had ever seen. Jasper crumbled a bagel up and drank about a gallon of coffee, barely meeting my eyes. I figured I might as well take advantage of my wedding breakfast, and also helped myself to fruit salad that included fruits I wasn’t aware were even available in America, and a doughnut that looked hand-painted with icing.

“I have some appointments today,” Jasper said, finally, when he finally pushed his plate aside. “We could meet for dinner later.”

I popped the last bite of doughnut into my mouth and wondered if he was planning on leaving town, leaving me behind.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

--

I had the day off, surprisingly enough. Normally on my days off, I had plans – sometimes I worked for a catering firm I was registered with, for some extra cash. Sometimes I’d hit the thrift stores to try and pad out my meagre wardrobe, or go and sketch or read in the park. I hated hanging around the apartment, since Victoria, James and Laurent kept unpredictable hours and could be there all day.

But today, I had nowhere to be. My phone needed charging and I could do with a few extra hours of sleep – a headache was definitely lingering. Plus, if breakfast was any indication, I needed to dress up for dinner. I was pretty sure that breakfast had cost more than my entire wardrobe. But I had one dress that was passable.

Luckily, the apartment was empty when I slipped in and collapsed into my bed, noticing only for a second that the hotel couch was far and away more comfortable than the ancient air mattress Victoria provided.

I was woken at five pm by a text message from Jasper.

360-555-0134 5:03:44pm: My meetings are done. Just heading back to the hotel for a shower. Our reservation is for 7:30pm. Pick you up at 7?

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face – I hadn’t been sure I’d ever hear from Jasper again. But he was taking me out to a fancy dinner. Hell, I would have been over the moon if we went to a movie and ate hot dogs in a park. Flipping open the keyboard, I tapped out a response.

775-555-0182 5:04:59pm: Sounds good – am sending my address. Hope your day was good.

I had two hours to get ready for the fanciest meal of my life.

I could so do this.

—

Considering my resources, I didn’t think I looked too bad. I’d left my hair loose, since I didn’t own a curling wand or straightener, and managed to paint my nails with the half-empty bottle of nude pink I’d found amongst my stuff.

My dress was a black polyester number I had fished out of a basket at the thrift store and had cost me eight dollars. It was a baby-doll style and I thought it made me look older. My shoes were black wedges that were nowhere near fancy enough, but I didn’t own any proper heels.

I had run to the drug store around the corner for a lipstick, a deep crimson that made me feel much older and more glamorous. The effect was somewhat spoilt by the fact I didn’t own a decent coat, just a purple cardigan and a hoodie. And the only purse I owned was a silver crossbody-bag that looked like I had only paid two dollars for it.

At seven on the dot, I emerged from my room to find Victoria, the kids, James and Laurent eating pizza.

“Look at you, baby,” James was practically drooling as I walked through, jamming my wallet and phone into the tiny bag. “Told you she was gorgeous.”

Laurent made a non-committal sound but his gaze never left my legs, ew.

“Where are you going?” Victoria demanded, glaring at me. She definitely preferred me as skinny, bedraggled Mary instead of girly Alice.

“I have a date,” I said.

“A date? Finally working for the money, Mary?” Victoria said. “Thought you were too good for that.”

I made a face at her. “A date. With a guy. Where he takes me to dinner and we talk.”

“You didn’t come home last night,” Victoria said carelessly, and I caught a dark look pass over James’ face. “Excuse me for assuming that you’d come to your senses.”

I swallowed my vulgar response and grabbed my keys. “Don’t wait up.”  

//

My stuff was packed up – in the end, I had only a small duffle bag and my messenger bag of stuff for nineteen years of life.

Jasper was planning on driving back to Forks over two or three days. He had considered – and offered – to pay for us to fly back, but I’d never been in an airplane before, and figured a road-trip would give me time to prepare to meet Jasper’s family.

//

I wasn’t expecting it. Not for James to half-punch, half-slap me, and shake me by the throat. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs burning, slightly disoriented from the blows.

James half-threw me against the fridge, the handle digging into my back. I dropped my bags as he grabbed me by the scruff of the shirt and pulled me back towards him.

“You think you can leave?” he spat at me. “Stupid bitch, think you’re better than this?”

I tried to pull away, but I was too small.

“You’re just like Vic. Just like ‘em all. You’ll come crawling back when that prick gets bored,” he purred at me, one hand sliding down my stomach and I suddenly was terrified. “I’m not picky, I’ll take you back – when you beg.”

“James.”

We both jerked around to see Laurent standing in the doorway, with one of Victoria’s daughters in tow.

James pasted a bright smile on his face. “Just sayin’ good bye to Mary here. Takin’ her chances in sunny California.”

Laurent looked from me to him and shrugged. “Coming?”

James looked back at me and sneered. “Yeah. The trash can take herself out.”

Within seconds, they were gone, and I was alone. I span on my heel and headed to the bathroom.

I stared at myself in the mirror. My throat was red, where he’d shaken me, and my eye and cheek were already swelling – and my lip was split. My back and shoulder ached, plus my right ankle was tender.

Thankfully, the collar of my cardigan would cover up my throat, and my sunglasses would cover up my eye. Hopefully, my lip would stop bleeding by then. Nothing that indicated James had hurt me. But I didn’t want to hang around, in case he came back.

Snagging my bags off the floor, I dropped my keys on the kitchen table and fled apartment 48 for the final time.

--

Jasper was waiting in the bar with a coffee and the paper when I showed up. I’d tried so hard to dress nicely – a blue shirtdress and lavender leggings – but the women in the hotel foyer made me look like a middle school student.

“Hi,” I smiled as I reached the table.

“Good morning,” Jasper said, jumping up to take my bags. “Can I get you anything?”

“An oj?” I asked, looking around at the fancy surroundings. I wasn’t sure anything as pedestrian as an orange had ever crossed the threshold of this place.

“Certainly.” A hotel employee suddenly appeared at Jasper’s elbow. “Could you put these bags with mine? And the lady would like an orange juice, and perhaps the brunch menu?”

“Of course, Mr Whitlock,” the employee said.

I wriggled around in my seat, gazing around the bar. One woman was wearing the most incredible red and gold heels, and another had an embroidered floral dress that was to die for.

“The hotel had some computer difficulties this morning – we should be able to leave soon,” Jasper said to me, drawing my attention back to him. “I’d like to make it to Boise tonight.”

“Sounds good,” I said, as a waiter swept to my side, placing the fanciest glass of juice in front of me, and a tasselled menu. “Thank you.”

“I’ve already eaten,” Jasper said, looking guilty. “Early start. But please, get whatever you want.”

“O-kay,” I said. I wasn’t very hungry, and my throat hurt after James’ assault, but I needed to eat – I wasn’t sure if we’d stop for lunch. Rule number one was never, ever turn down free food.

A hotel employee appeared at Jasper’s elbow the second my breakfast plate was cleared, to let us know that the ‘issues’ had been fixed, and our luggage was in the car.

It was happening. We were going.

Mary-Alice Brandon: now leaving Las Vegas.

//

The motel was neat and pretty clean, with two double beds and a TV. We’d grabbed burgers through drive-thru, and were ready to settle in for the night.

I had some ancient pj bottoms and a tank top to sleep in, and didn’t think of anything else as I left the bathroom, my hair hanging loose.

“What the hell happened to you?” Jasper was at my side in a second, his eyes wide.

“What?” I gave him a confused look, and belatedly realised that my make-up was washed off and in my tank top my throat was bared, the bruises that James had given me so much darker and angrier than before.

“Oh, um, my landlord’s boyfriend had a problem with me leaving,” I said uncomfortably.

“Jesus,” he murmured. “We can find a doctor in the morning.”

I waved it off. “I’ve got painkillers in my purse. Just have to wait til I heal.”

//

Jasper was determined to buy me clothing as soon as we finished breakfast, and I gave up and let him drive me to the Gap outlet. It was a novelty to be able to purchase whatever I need, something I wasn’t used to, as I carefully chose jeans and dresses. I also picked up a winter parka on sale, when Jasper warned me how wet and cold Forks was.

But when Jasper went to pay, he gave me a Look. “My sister spends more on a single pair of shoes,” he grumbled at me as I gathered my bags.

“I’ve got everything I need, I swear,” I said. “Probably too much, honestly.”

//

On the way from Seattle, I tried to memorise everything about Jasper’s family and friends, so not to fuck this up worse than it already was.

There were his ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, Esme and Carlisle. They had one biological son, Edward, who was 22 and married to Isabella, with a toddler named something strange. Ness, Jasper called her.

Jasper’s twin sister, Rosalie, was engaged to a man named Emmett, who was also one of Jasper’s best friends. They were building a house in Forks, and were getting married at the end of the year.

Jasper’s best friends were Emmett and a man named Peter, Jasper’s roommate in college, who now worked at a law firm in Seattle and had a girlfriend named Charlotte whom Jasper called ‘an angel’, and designed wedding dresses.

I felt like I needed flashcards.

[minthysugamon]

Everybody wants to Rule the World. (Part 2)

Noble Assistant,Sergeant! Namjoon x Assassin! Reader.

1789! AU

Word Count: 2,111 (angel number go brrr again)

Warnings: Slight misogyny,beheading,blood,death...i think that's all.

(Credit for the Original Photo: @/athenaa. I only edited it a little bit. But all credit goes to the original artist who posted the photo first in it's original version)

(Painting: La liberté guidant le peuple by Eugène Delacroix)

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12 Août,1787. (Flashback)

After reading every word of Voltaire,Maximilien became more and more riled up by the thrill of the revolution. The adrenaline of change was getting the best of him,he had no time to care about his little sister,(Y/n) Robespierre,who would simply block him from getting in the city. The Robespierre family was more than just concerned about their eldest child,the Gem of their family. (Y/n) hated the injustice their father casted upon them. She wanted to learn,he wouldn't let her. Henriette tried to reason her but stubborn,like her brother,she went up in Paris,alone,in the quest of knowledge.

After arriving at Le Marais,her first goal was to find her brother. Nothing more,nothing less. And finding him,she did. But not in his expected state. "Maximilien,laissez moi entrer.¹" A groan was heard from the man but he got up to let his sistet in. "What are you doing here? I told you to stay at home,in Arras. Is it so hard to follow my or father's wishes?" He sighed and pulled a chair out for her. 'How chivalrous.' (Y/n) thought to herself. "Mon frère,i came here to ask you a favor." Her eyes,full of hope,heart racing,the negative answer from him already anticipated. "And what would that favor be? If it's to join some political club,it's a no. And i won't listen to any begging. No is-" "I know. No is no. I don't even want to join those. All i wanted to ask from you is to teach me the art of law."

Maximilien sighed. He knew she will never be accepted as a lawyer,as much as she wanted. In the end,(Y/n) was a woman. Not a male apprentice. But a simple woman. "So...? Will you please teach me...?" Her voice resonated through the small living room,a hint of hope and a dust of desperation sticking to it. "No. I can't. I already taught you everything you had to know. I can't teach you more." Maximilien simply sat down on a chair,looking at her. How could have his sister,a woman from such a delicate mother,turned out like a man? "Is it because i'm a woman?" "It's because you won't be accepted. I'm only doing you a favor here,if you haven't noticed. Ta demande est ridicule. Et tu le sais très bien.² I won't let a Robespierre be turned into laughing stock. Not only your honor depends on it,but our whole family's."

Objecting her brother was the worst thing she could ever do. The man was stubborn and always stuck to his own ideologies for the better or the worst. "But you know-" "STOP IT. NOW. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THAT ANYMORE. I SAID NO. AND NOTHING WILL CHANGE THAT. YOU ARE A WOMAN. KNOW YOUR PLACE FOR GOD'S SAKE." The heavy breathing coming from the eldest was enough to make the atmosphere heavy between them. (Y/n) stood up and put the chair back as if she was never on it. "Alright. Thank you for your time,Maître Robespierre. Je me tâcherai à ne plus vous contre-dire.³" Stepping out of the residence,(Y/n) let the door slam against it's frame. The silence was too heavy around Maximilien. He wanted to tell her he's sorry,but he knew it won't change anything. Her pride was too high for her own good. So he put his aside for once,as unwilling as he was. "Alright. Come back. If you want to learn. You will learn. From me. But don't tell anyone about this. Est-ce clair?⁴"

The young woman's eyes lit up. For the first time,she achieved to coerce something useful out of her brother,something that will be helpful for her future. "Crystal clear,Maximilien." She did a 180 and started walking towards the door of the small and stuffed place the elder was living in,passing right beside him. "So? When do we start? I wanna know everything." An innocent but playful smile spreading on her face as she spoke took Maximilien by surprise. "Quoi?⁵ Not even a simple thank you?" The tone in his voice was laced with fake-hurt. He was annoyed but somewhat proud of her sister's persuasion skills. If she was a man,she would've been a very good lawyer. Putting ultimatums where they belong,it requires skill.

14 Juillet,1789.

After getting some powder,Namjoon was finally recharging his gun,the fact he owed his life to a revolutionist still had him shocked. 'Why?' wasn't his only question though,he wanted to know more about that woman. "COUPEZ-LUI LA TÊTE!⁶" the chant of the crowd grew louder and louder as his foster father was escorted by some peasants. While the sergeant of the troop was laying dead jn the hallway,the squad's organisation itself was frantic,none of them had endured such debauchery before.

"Sir,what should we do? We can't let the colonel down." One of the soldiers finally spoke up after a long moment of silence. His ears were ringing. The loud gun noises made him lose all auditory senses,but he still spoke up despite not being able to think clearly and having no military experience. "Wait here. If i signal the path is cleared,you follow. Divide in two divisions. We can't sacrifice anyone. If anything,i prefer sacrificing myself if there's a chance to lead you into safety. May God be with all of you."

Namjoon had no idea what came over him and moreover had no idea how to command,but he strong leadership De Launay has showed during his younger years may have stuck with him. One thing is sure,he won't commit the error of turning his troops against himself. Maybe getting killed was his destiny after all,but he would do everything in his power to not have the one who raised him killed. After hiding behind a pillar,the man signaled to the first troop to come and hide behind the chariot. The chariot the battle was going on for,the precious gun powder those uncultured men couldn't use. Hell,even him,he was new to the battle but the situation couldn't degrade more.

"Here's what we're going to do. We have to use up all the powder while the second troop can finally get to safety. Negociating with these savages already failed,we have to act." The youngest soldier, Nathanaël du Rhône, looked him in awe, their leader, Kim Namjoon, the man who was once a Stranger, was more worried about their safety than his. The newly appointed Staff Sergeant pointed to Nathanaël. "You. Signal to the others that they can come,then hide and leave. You have more than just a fight to live. The others,you come with me. Hide,aim and charge. I'll signal you when to shoot." De Launay has noticed his son due to his inattention,his hat was in the wrong direction. He simply smiled at the determination of the young chief then mouthed a simple 'You'll be alright son." in his direction while the three man were still escorting him out to the court of the prison.

"Wait....Now. Shoot." And the men acted as Namjoon said,including himself. They fired the shots,simultaneously touching the three who were holding the Colonel. Recharge,aim shoot again all the people who were flocking in the court. Once they had no other choice and were blocked,the hiding spot was discovered too. But he won't let his men down easily,he wasn't raised to do so. "Gather the explosives. We must light them and decimate the crowd or else this hell will never end."

After throwing one of the smoke torches in the crowd,he started running towards his elder, successfully stabbing one of the new detainers in the throat with the bayonette of his shotgun. "Père.⁷You must come. I beg you." De Launay simply nodded a no and smiled "My destiny was to die protecting the king and the prison. Now go before they get you too. You're too young to die." Namjoon wanted to do another round before he saw the head of the Colonel falling,in addition thhe man's blood splattered over his face as he wasn't more than 3 meters away. "Chef. Ils nous ont encerclé⁸. We must go." A new smoke torch was thrown by the youngest soldier on the ground,blinding the revolutionists as he held back his chief from going rampage over the ones who killed the one he called father. "NO I CAN'T. I CAN'T LET HIM DIE." Namjoon screamed frantically as Nathanaël was pulling him by the arm, at the same time asking for help from his troop mates. Two other men came to hold the new and young Sergeant down,escorting him to a hiding place,not wanting to lose their only commandant in this butchery.

15 Juillet,1789.

After staying up all night,the sun was rising. 'Finally', (Y/N) thought to herself. The night was long enough already when she simply had woken up from night terrors and waited for the light of the day to reassure her,but now that she had to wait for her brother, it seemed like an eternity. Sitting on the roof of the house Maître Robespierre lived in,she had the privilege to eat something that many couldn't, an apple. The thought of saving that guy in the early afternoon was prancing around her mind, not fully understanding why she did what she did. 'I should've killed him. Now he's one of my countless problems.' Her inner monologue was eating her up,much like she was munching on the green fruit. Due to the bad harvests of the previous years,it was as sour as her mood.

After finishing the apple,eating the core,even if it was more than just acidic and putting the seeds into a small pocket of her leather pants,she knew she should get down the roof and change back into her normal attire to hide her activity. As long as Maximilien didn't know about anything,she was safe. He wouldn't condone her actions even if she was killing the noblemen he oh so strongly opposed. As murderous as his desires were, the thought of a woman being better than him made his skin crawl. The crowd had finally died down too,people went back to their residences or the small shelter they were at to sleep,it was around two in the morning that the chants started to become more and more quiet and at three,not a single soul was seen wandering the streets. It was although now five in the morning and she knew,her brother would soon come back from the whorehouse he went to. After finally getting into her dress,she went out the door to finally get some bread. 'Oh to be a man and not give a piece of mind about the opinions of others.' she thought as she entered the local bakery.

"Bien le bonjour, mademoiselle⁹ ,early today,i see! Let me guess,the usual or are we changing it up today?" The baker, Jean-Hugues Lefèvre, was known for his kindness towards his costumers although since bread was a missing article nowadays,he always managed to sneak some to the poorest families,giving up his rations to save others. The baker had already started packing the two loaves,as usual until his actions were interrupted by (Y/n)'s voice.  "Just one loaf will be enough,thank you. I'm only buying for my brother,i am going back home today." As he was choosing the best loaf,he raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So soon? It hasn't been two months thought,as you said ten days ago." She smiled awkwardly,not knowing how to engage in the small talk,making herself feel smaller. "Well...i guess the Parisian air made me feel a little bit exthau-" her phrase couldn't be finished as somebody barged into the shop.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Lefèvre." The intruder was a tall man,smelling like gunpowder and cologne "Bonjour, Sergent Kim. Congratulations on your rank. You fought well. I am sorry about what happened with the Colonel. What can i serve you with?" Jean-Hugues gave (Y/N) the loaf as he told her the price and the  another man looked at her. "Three loaves please..." Thoughtful was the only way to describe him once he caught a look of the eyes of the woman,and (Y/N) had a suspicion why,so she ushered herself out of the bakery. "Wait a minute." The man called out. So she turned around "Yes?" Trying to seem confident out of the cape and mask that hid her face yesterday was harder to do than to say. "Haven't we met somewhere?" A genuine curiosity was displayed on his face. As much as she knew the right answer,the lie was necessary. "I don't think so. Have a nice day,Monsieur Lefèvre." And the girl started heading to the Robespierre residence.

Left dumbfounded and with three loaves for his 10 men, Namjoon was thinking about where he had seen those eyes before. "The girl from yesterday."

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Translations

¹ Let me enter

² Your request is ridiculous. And you know that well.

³ I'll make sure to never argue with you again.

⁴ Is it clear?

⁵ What?

⁶ Chop his head off!

⁷ Father.

⁸Chief,they have surrounded us.

⁹Well good morning there,Miss.

A/N: Hello there. There will be probably a part 3,but i don't know when. I don't promise it will be before april but i'll try to write it before. Please note that i try to stay as close to history as possible but as this is an AU,there are some modifications here and there. This is pure fiction please do not take this for something real. Thank you. (Only saying because i've gotten some hateful DMs bc of the first part).

[izzielizzie]

Chapter Five

Here it is! It sucks because I had no idea what to write, but since I made y’all wait so long, I’ll post Maeve’s chapter too. Oh and a big thank you to @natewynoou for getting me through my writer’s block. Enjoy!

“Hey Babe,” Jake says, leaning against my locker. “Hey,” I say back, smiling up at him. He’s wearing his football jacket today, and he looks lovely in it. His arm wraps around my waist as I slam my locker shut. “Ready for gym?” “Ugh, never.” Jake grins at me and pulls me close. I sink into him. This is my favorite part of the day. Being with Jake. I only see him during last block, and I always miss how he’s strong and kind and makes me feel seen for once. I let him lead me to the track, but before we can reach the door, a voice floats out from the overhead speakers. Would Cooper Clay, Nate Macauley, Adelaide Prentiss, and Bronwyn Rojas please report to the main office? Again, Cooper Clay, Nate Macauley, Adelaide Prentiss, and Bronwyn Rojas to the main office. Jake turns to look at me.

“What’s that about?” 

I shrug. “I’ll see you later.” I stand on my toes and give him a quick kiss before turning in the opposite direction. I’m nearly at the office when someone falls in step with me. “What do you think this is about?” Nate asks me. I shrug again. “Hopefully nothing.” We reach for the door at the same time, and I step back. Nate pulls the door open for me with an exaggerated bow and I enter the room as I giggle. The giggle stops suddenly though, when I see perfect little Bronwyn Rojas frowning at me from her seat next to Cooper. I slink into the seat across from Cooper as Nate drops next to me. “‘Sup?” Nate asks, tipping back his chair. Bronwyn gives him an exasperated look. “You’re going to crack your head open Nate,” Bronwyn snaps. “Bold of you to assume that’s not my intent,” Nate fires back with a smirk. Bronwyn rolls her eyes. “What are we doing here?” Cooper asks suddenly. He looks a little restless. Bronwyn opens her mouth, but before she can answer, the door flies open, and about an eighth of the girl’s soccer team comes marching in behind their coach. I can see Vanessa smirking at all of us, and behind her is Maeve Rojas. Maeve catches sight of the four of us and tilts her head questioningly, but doesn’t say anything as the coach turns to her. “Rojas! Stay here and see if you can find Gupta. This is absurd.”

“Sure thing Coach.” The coach leaves with the rest of the girls, and Maeve rolls her eyes at the closed door. “Hi, Maeve,” Bronwyn says. “Hey,” Maeve responds. “What’s going on?” “Gupta didn’t provide the school van for our soccer game.” Maeve pauses. “Again.” Bronwyn smiles a little. She looks uncomfortable, almost as if she doesn’t know what to say to Maeve, which is weird considering they once practically shared a brain. Before she has to say anything though, the door opens again, nearly hitting Maeve in the face. She steps back as Luis Santos steps in. He looks around at the people in the room and pauses. “Um, hi?” “Hey,” Cooper says. “What’s happening here?” “Family reunion,” Maeve says sarcastically, and Luis smiles at her. Maeve glares back. I’ll never understand why Luis keeps treating Maeve nicely when it’s obvious his crush is one sided. Or at least, it’s obvious to everyone but him. As it always has been. “What?” He asks hesitantly. “Nothing. Obviously. We’re all waiting for Principal Gupta. She’s MIA.” “Just like our football van.” “You guys have a football game?” I ask. Luis nods. Huh. Jake didn’t tell me about that. Usually he tells me when he has a game so I can get a ride home from a friend. Maeve ignores me and tilts her head at Luis. “Our soccer van is missing too.” Luis nods slowly, stuffs his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants with a contemplative look and twists so he’s leaning against the wall next to Maeve. “You going to the captain’s charity event?” The captain’s charity event. The event of the year after prom. Basically, ten years ago some rich football captain created a fund for the school that benefited the sports teams, as long as a dinner and dance was held for all the captains. Being invited is the greatest honor this school has. I’ve been once, with Jake, in my freshman year as his date. Sophomore year, though, Luis got the title of football captain and he and Olivia took our place. Cooper goes too, with Keely, to represent the boy’s baseball team. And from what I gathered, Maeve and TJ went together last year. Not that they will this year.

“Yeah, but I don’t have a date this year,” says Maeve as she twists her braid over her shoulder and wraps the end around her finger. “Are you?” “Yeah, I’m dateless too though.” Maybe Luis was expecting something from Maeve. Maybe a simple “we should go together”. Judging from his face, he didn’t expect Maeve to shrug, toss her braid over her shoulder and say: “Well, that sucks.” Luis’s shoulders slump right as Principal Gupta walks into the office with a harried look. She pushes open the door, and right before it can hit Maeve, Luis tugs her towards him. She falls against him. I catch sight of Bronwyn and Cooper’s small smiles before Gupta starts talking. “Sorry I’m late. Mr. Santos, Ms. Rojas, what are you doing here?” Luis and Maeve explain their van problem, and Gupta follows them to sort it out. She returns nearly forty minutes later looking exasperated and muttering about sports teams. She looks at us, and drops into a chair at the head of the table. “I’m sorry to keep you all waiting, but we had some difficulties with our sports teams today.” As if she had to tell us that. I zone out as she talks to us about how she understands we’re shaken up about Simon’s death (I’ve heard this enough times before) until I hear Cooper’s saying “With all due respect ma’am,” (Why is he so polite anyway? He only lived in the south for two years) “It sounds like you’re accusing us.” My head snaps up. “What?” Everyone turns to look at me. Nate’s smirking at me. “I was just saying that the four of you are well known students, and all four of you have a history with Simon.” I flinch a little. “So you think we killed him?” I ask. “We are simply following threads Addy, no need to be defensive.” “With all due re-” Cooper stops at the smirk on Nate’s face and then continues. “We’re being accused of something ridiculous, I think we have the right to be defensive.” “There’s no probable cause for investigation, is there?” Bronwyn asks. “It was an accident, and in a court of law, following threads wouldn’t convince a jury.” I roll my eyes. She always sounds older than she is. And like she knows more than everyone. Gupta opens her mouth the answer, when the bell rings, singling the end of school. “Are we free to go?” Nate asks. “Yes, but-” We don’t let her finish her sentence, because we’re too busy standing up, swinging our bags over our shoulders, and marching out of the room.

Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to go to Glenn’s diner with Bronwyn, Cooper, and Nate, but I’m filled with pent up anger at Gupta for suggesting something that might mess up our lives that I said yes. Now I’m sitting in a booth next to Cooper picking at my salad. “Want some fries?” Cooper asks me. I shake my head even though I do really want some. The faster I get out of here, the better. I’m not really listening to the conversation around me until I hear Nate saying my name. “What?” I ask. “Did Simon have anything against you?” I pause before I shake my head vehemently. I look at the unconvinced faces staring at me. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing against me.” Bronwyn raises an eyebrow. “What did you do?” “Nothing!” “You really want us to believe that?” Nate asks. “I mean, I might have… hooked up with TJ last summer,” I say, the last words a whisper. I jump when Bronwyn slams her glass down. “What the HELL, Addy? You hooked up my sister’s boyfriend?” “I,” I can’t say anything more as the shame I’d pushed down resurfaces. “Addy, seriously?” Cooper asks me. “I didn’t know,” I say, shrinking away from him. “That’s bullshit you saw them together at every party we went to.” “He told me he wasn’t dating anyone.” “But you had a boyfriend.” Bronwyn’s glaring at me now, her arms crossed. Cooper’s staring at me like he’s never seen me before. Nate’s smirking, like always, and I’m pretty sure that if he wasn’t in the booth, he’d be tilting his chair back. “I know, I just-” “Addy Maeve is miserable.” “I’m sorry. If I could take it back I would.” “But, you can’t, can you?” “No, I can’t.” “Addy, do you really think it’s fair to Jake and Maeve?” Cooper asks me. “No, but-” “Seriously, Addy, that it the bitchiest thing anyone could do.” I don’t even know what to say anymore. I’ve ignored my actions for months because I didn’t want to think about what I did and how it might hurt people. And I can’t relive it now, here with people I’ve hurt more than once. I shrink into myself as Nate starts talking. “Funny how you left us for a guy you cheated on, Ads.” That’s it. I can’t. I pull my bag out from under the table and stand through my tears. I push my way through the diner until I step outside and breath in the fresh air. I look down at my phone when it starts ringing. It’s Vanessa. “Hey,” I say, praying to the trees in front of me that Vanessa can’t hear the tears in my voice. “Oh my god. Have you heard the news?” “What news?” “The Tumblr post? Saying you guys killed Simon?”

[heck-damn-so-i-draw]

Evan Fong, the leading investigator of these ghost hunts, stands in front of the cameraman in the group and says the intro they hope to be famous someday to fellow ghost extremists. “Some people believe in ghosts, SOme don’t. There are things in this world we will never fully understand. We want answers. My friends, Brian, Marcel, and Tyler.” He turns to introduce his team. Brian Hanby, an Irish ‘ex’-subway worker, Marcel Cummingham, a video influencer and ghost hunter hype man, and  Tyler Wine, the team cameraman who along with Marcel, keeps their tech and equipment working and up to par. 

“Are here to help me find answers. Today!” Evan continues to the camera after Tyler is done introducing everyone, “We are here in Wake, North Carolina. Investigating paranormal activity in an old farmhouse. According to the owner of the property, this used to be the sight of a cult group called Onyx Toonz. Strange name for a cult, I know~" The Asian Canadian winked at the camera. 

He knew he was the heartthrob of their fans, so he often talked to the camera like a friend he was trying to include. 

"Just remember, we find these ghosts to try and help them, free them. I can talk to ghosts. And they talk to me. Brian here can see ghosts, so along with our tech men, we use our gifts to help them once we find them. Alright! Let's get this party rocking." 

Evan grinned at the camera until Tyler said cut and put it down. Then his grin fell and he looked to the house they were going to investigate tonight. 

The house wasn’t very big, and it was incredibly old. There were places where the roof looked like it wouldn’t last another rainfall. As Evan continued to look at the building, he shivered. He was good at putting on a show. Great at hiding the fact that he was terrified, for the camera. His buddies knew better.

Brian looked at the house, his blue eyes slightly visible glowing in the sunset behind the house. Just because he had a gift like this, doesn’t mean he’s much different from anyone else. His eyes don’t glow like they’re magic, he doesn’t have any special origin- he’s normal! Besides being able to see the dead and all. As they all looked towards the house, Brian’s breath hitched as he could already feel the anxiety swell up in him. Whatever is in there, knew they were coming in. The Irishman sighed once he knew the camera was off. “Are you sure we should be investigating here-? There’s something… Wrong.”

Marcel put his arm around the man and shook him lightly, an excited grin on his face. “C’mon, you heard the owner! He wants to tear the house down anyway. Don’t chicken out on us now, man. I’m sure there’s nothing in that house we can’t handle- Why did you see something bad already?” His tone got excited instead of scared as it should be. “No, no wait. Save it for the camera- We gotta get your real reaction.”

Brian went quiet and just shook his head. Marcel was always excited about the prospect of an adventure, they all were really, but Marcel was always leaping for one. An adrenaline junky.

He was still careful, but not always. 

The most careful of the group all in all was probably Tyler, who enforced a lot of the rules they set up the show with.

“Hang on, hang on. I’m getting the camera ready- We need to do a perimeter check to make sure..”

Evan already started to seem distracted. He was hearing a soft ringing in his ears that he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the high altitude of the town? They had just got here yesterday. 

He turned to the group. “First we have to set up our base of operations. I don’t think I’m comfortable putting it in that house.” He looked at Brian as if to affirm his bad feeling, and Brian nodded subtly back.

SO the gang set up their base with a tent and Marcel and Tyler quickly got all of the laptops and equipment set up. Though, as they go inside they’ll have to set up the motion cameras and other things to try and record what they find.

While the tech boys got everything they needed ready, Evan and Brian sat looking towards the house, joking about what would happen tonight or talking about a few things that already seemed off about the place. They didn’t discuss much, saving it for the camera as per normal. 

“Alright, it’s all set!” Tyler called as he exited the tent. Marcel followed quickly behind. The two tech men were ready to start the show... Brian and Evan weren’t so ready. Before Evan could say anything, they all heard a thunk! And looked to the house. A kid had thrown a small chunk of cinder block at the door and was running home. Brian’s eyes widened a bit as he saw something he didn’t want to tell the group just yet, and Evan stood up, making Brian stand up too. Tyler shook his head. “Stupid fuckin’ kids. We should talk to his parents-” Before Tyler could finish his thought, Evan nodded. “Already way ahead of you,” Then he started out down the hill towards the house that the child ran off to.

When they got to the front door, Evan knocked on it. 

The door opened about 5 seconds later, to a mother with curly brown hair. “Can I help you, gentlemen?” She asked softly, to which Evan put on a smile. “Yes Ma’am, actually, we were hired to investigate the home next door to yours, and we think we saw your son throw something at the door. Can we-” As if on cue, a little boy with brown hair that resembled his mother came out from behind her skirt. “Lui-” The mother started quickly, but her young boy interrupted her, clinging on tight to his monkey stuffie. “You guys shouldn’t go in there. There’s death in there.”

Evan and brian looked at each other with concern in their eyes, and the mother tugged her son back behind her and started shutting the door, laughing nervously. “Oh, kids will say the darndest things~ Sorry boys but it’s Lui’s bedtime.” Then she promptly shut the door. Evan blinked for a minute or two and then turned around to face his team. “Well.. that was a nice little North Carolinian hello, wasn’t it?” Then he started to walk back off the porch and to their base. 

~STAY TUNED FOR PT. 2~

→ 

[aftermathdb]

DEATH BATTLE Review: Cable vs. Booster Gold

So, for some reason, people were confused about this matchup? Like… C’mon. It was either this, or Cable vs. Trunks.

Cable′s Preview.

So, the convoluted story begins with Mister Sinister wanting to ship and breed the X-Men, specifically Scott Summers and Jean Grey.

And because of a lot of convolutedness, he had to use a clone of Jean to get the ultimate mutant that he wanted.

Enter Nathan Summers.

And because this is comic books, he had a rare disease, and had to be take to the future for a cure… Where there wasn’t one, because that world had been taken over by Apocalypse, another villain.

But through his training, a lot of experience, Nate was far more recognizable by one name: Cable.

The hosts go over his abilities that he has both in part of his heritage and the Techno-Organic Virus that he has. From all sorts of visions, to lasers, to being able to repair his metal arm at a whim.

And Cable’s also an Omega-Level Mutant, which means he’s super powerful.

And he’s been using these powers to keep himself together this whole time. Boomstick asks how he does it in his sleep, and… Yeah, I kinda want to ask that too.

And we go over his weapons and abilities.

I’m gonna level with you: Due to my new job at a grocery store, I can’t do the full Wiz and Boomstick segments due to time constraints. I’d love to quit, but at the time, there’s a pandemic, and I wouldn’t be able to find better work otherwise. Just know that this kinda just goes on to make a joke about how Nathan is basically Mutant Jesus. Really sorry that I can’t show more, and yeah… This is kinda how it’s gonna be from now on. Really sorry.

Anyways, after going over how Nate saw other timeline versions of himself, he decided to get rid of his Virus… By rewriting his DNA!

And the hosts go over his feats.

Like how he moved the earth, or ionized the entire atmosphere, or telepathically read everyone’s mind at once.

Booster Gold′s Preview.

There’s a lot to know about Booster Gold.

He’s an icon, a brand, and a Superhero.

However, if there’s anything that you should know about the guy…

It’s that he’s full of it.

In a nutshell, Michael Jon Carter was a football player in the 25th century, but he had to start doing dirty plays to make money to pay for a treatment that his mom needed, and was eventually kicked out.

As the hosts noted, he got a job at a museum that featured 20th century Superheroes, and became inspired to go back in time… And profit.

But instead of giving the name Goldstar, he accidentally gave the name Booster Gold.

And since he’s a huge dick, he got quite the reputation as being an asshole among the Superhero community

Even Superman wasn’t a fan. And that guy’s like one of the most positive people ever.

It wasn’t all bad. He had an actual friend in Ted Kord, the original Blue Beetle.

Onto the arsenal, Booster’s Power Suit basically makes him like Iron Man, but with time travel. He’s got enhanced strength, speed, and durability just as long as he’s got power running through the thing.

His shield won’t let anything pass, even bacteria, and it can even block from telepathic attacks.

Again: Sorry that I can’t make these longer. I think I might have to go back to the older ways of doing this of only featuring the background, powers/arsenal, and end line while also trying to get screenshots of the important info and maybe some Wiz/Boomstick segments. Trust me, I’d love to quit the grocery job and do something like video edit, but I don’t have the time, nor do I have the ability to go out and do interviews.

Anyways, Booster can not only hang out with other timeline versions of himself, but he’s also got an impressive field of feats to pull off too.

And after a while, Booster became an actual hero, and learned humility so that meant that he couldn’t really publicize it.

Still though, he’s the main character in the greatest story never told, and he’ll be protecting the timestream while doing what he does best:

Showboating.

The Battle Itself.

Luis and Zack lead on animation, Cable will be voiced by Dave J. Dixon and Booster Gold will be voiced by Ricco Fajardo. , Days of Booster Past by Brandon Yates, and audio led by Chris Kokkinos.

So, the battle starts off with Booster showboating in front of a crowd, when Cable shows up. Because Booster is Booster, he assumes that Cable’s there to steal his spotlight.

Cable responds… Like most people would if they saw Booster, and when Booster challenges him, Cable shows off that gritty 90s attitude.

Cable takes an early lead, hitting Booster with all sorts of attacks until Booster turns on his shield and starts his counter.

We get a bit of a back and forth, and I know that I don’t have a lot of screenshots, but please bare with me.

This little “ZA WARULDO” segment doesn’t really phase Cable too much, and he surmounts a counter attack.

(Let’s do the time warp again!)

We get a little attack cycle through and it just shows that Booster is tanking everything that Cable is throwing at him without much effort.

So Cable counters by using his time-travel prep time to take Booster Back to the Past where he has a trap set for him.

Booster’s shield doesn’t break, so, yeah.

And Booster calls in backup.

This goes on for a bit until Cable tries to use his telepathy to force Booster to turn off his shields.

Finishing blow in

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

Booster gave the shield to Cable.

Verdict + Explanation.

So, at first, Boomstick is exasperated that some tool like Booster was able to take down a badass like Cable.

Once again, it’s similar to Sasuke vs. Hiei, where one of the fighters has one advantage, but the other has perfect counters to everything that the other could trow at them. In this case, Cable had the better training and experience, but Booster had everything else.

For starters, while Cable could move planets, Booster’s shields were the big thing keeping him in the game. And they were the big thing letting him stay ahead of it too, credit where it’s due, it was only reallyone thing keeping Cable from winning, and if it weren’t for that, he would have won.

So yeah, Cable could move planets, but Booster’s shields could block planets being destroyed sub-atomically. And since apparently everyone in the DC universe can tap into the Speed Force, Booster was holding speed as well. Telepathy wasn’t going to do much since Booster’s shields could stop that, and Cable had no real ways to bypass it.

Since Booster’s weapons were also using the same power as his shields, that meant that he had some big power on his side.

And we also get a neat little Aesop at the end, where the goofiness and siliness of one character, and the seriousness and grit of the other only really matters in the context of their respective universes, but in a DEATH BATTLE, that means comparing them directly, which means a total goofball that you’ve never heard of, like Booster Gold, can defeat a serious and gritty guy like Cable.

Overall impression.

If anything, it took me spending a few hours at work to really ruminate about this fight and what it means. The animation and music are really great, and the lesson at the end is very meaningful.

Despite that, I gotta say that I’m getting really tired of DC characters that aren’t the Flash or Flash-Adjacent being able to tap into the Speed Force like Booster or Green Lantern. It kinda ruins what makes the Flash special. That’s more of a criticism of DC than it is this episode, so I’ll stop.

Overall, there wasn’t really much to write home about. Like I said, it was either this, or Cable vs. Trunks, and there’s a lot to unpack in regards to power scaling for that bout.

7.5/10

Next Time…

Y’know, when I saw Obi-Wan in the season preview, I had a short list of characters that he could fight, and this guy was probably number 1.

So, I guess we’re going to find out if a knight is better than a ninja, huh?

Is there a fight that you want me to review? - Send an ask/request, and I’ll look into it!

Do you want to read my fanfic based around DEATH BATTLE itself? click here!

Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you next time for…

Knight vs. Ninja.

[peanutbutterisland-blog]

Lui- A short story by Owami Jackson

Chapter 1: Franks intro

So, how do you start one of these things? Do I tell you my name, the backstory of my character, where I am from? How and why I killed Lui?

*Fuck I ruined the whole story didn’t I? Oh well. Guess we have to start somewhere

Okay boys and girls, to save you the suspense and inner turmoil, yes this is the story of how I killed a girl named Lui. This is not an attempt to bait you into reading a story. You could easily go watch a reality show about this kind of stuff, I mean you’d be surprised at how much of this shit happens, and is televised. honestly I could give two fucks about you or the author of this short story who saw it fit too conjure me from his imagination because he couldn’t sleep or because of his “anxiety” but since we are here I’ll give you the 411. This is not a story about murder nor is it a story about romance, I’m sorry if you wanted a sequel to “A fault in our stars” but this is unfortunately not the place, go rent it at a DVD store like the rest of the perverts who still go to DVD stores. As you will come to find my personality borders on asshole territory. This is not a trait I am particularly fond off but I’m not the author here. So if you are ready for a nihilistic, self-centred, self-deprivation kind of story, buckle up your seat belt ladies and gentlemen, its time for a ride. Oh and my name is Frank.  

Chapter 2: Why is it so hard to find a good blowjob in Paris?

It’s a beautiful city Lyon, dead middle in the heart of it all, who would’ve thought a piece of shit like me would make it to a place like this. Don’t get me wrong I much rather be in my shitty apartment, with my noisy ass neighbours but every once in a while you find something that gets you out of the house and gives a rational explanation to the world. You might be asking yourself why I’m in Paris or where I’m from. Let’s just say I’m here for a permanent vacation and I can’t disclose where I’m from because I don’t know you guys like that.

*or the author is a lazy fuck who can’t give me a decent enough back story because his writing this dead late in the middle of the night and doesn’t have any depth.

The thing about the city of Lyon is that you actually start to believe the romantic hype. Its covered by water as if it was being hugged by Atlantis, the air is warm, the noise is music and the music is art. The afternoons, oh God the afternoons, the sky turns a light navy blue with small stokes of the pink sunset embellished on top of it. Sitting outside of a hotel restaurant and eating what could only be described as an orgasm in my mouth feels like paradise.  

Waiter: can I get you anything else monsieur?        

Just top me off on the wine would you. No, matter of fact bring me the bottle and add a gin and tonic while you’re at it

Waiter: aucun problème

Okay back to you lovely annoying readers; yes Paris, Lyon a beautiful part of fucking civilization, if I wasn’t going to blow my head off in the next couple of days I would have moved here  

*is it me or did I ruin another vital part of the story, Fuck!

Okay let’s make this quick, we’ve wasted enough time talking about a city that you can just google. I came here because out of all my travels it is the most beautiful place I have ever been to. This is where I plan to kill myself, everything is already planned, I’ve booked an exquisite hotel in the presidential suite with an extraordinary balcony view, I know what my last meal will be and I’ve hired enough prostitutes and drugs to give Charlie Sheen a boner. While your reading the story please don’t act like you care and even if you did, I did tell you that I’m a piece of shit so that says a lot about you weirdo. This will not end with a coming to Jesus moment; I will not tell you a sad backstory as to what lead me to this decision. The only thing I can say is that I am okay, I’m just not happy. I figured shooting myself in the head would be quicker and as a last ode to me being an asshole someone would have to clean my mushy brain and skull fragments and that brings me so much joy. Now back too regular proceedings.

Concierge: sir I have been informed to tell you that there is a female waiting for you at the front desk

Oh yes, the first of many lovely prostitutes that will be joining me, send her up Garson

Concierge: yes sir.

Time for my first act. I’m guessing you weirdos are going to stay and read about my sexual escapade, just don’t masturbate to it, it’s hard enough giving a good performance to an A list prostitute from Paris and having you weirdos jacking off to it, this is not 50 shades and you are not a middle aged housewife, grow up. What I can tell you though is that I’ve frequented some of the ladies of the night in Paris and despite their beauty they can’t give a decent enough blowjob, I mean it’s like they are  physically trained not to produce decent fallatio. It’s a question that has plagued me for years but nonetheless I digress. So yeah this whole backstory shit has been fun but it’s time for me to go, see you in the next chapter.

Chapter 3: Baby! Baby! Baby!

Even in the desolate night where the room is quiet and covered by luminance moonlight, the air in Paris is still warm. I mean I am sleeping next to two prostitutes with nothing on but the air is still comfy. If you’re here to find out if the blowjob was good, yes it was. Turns out when you use two girls the tongue ratio is rationed and abracadabra you have a good blowjob now back to the story pervert.

I’ve never been one to have a good night’s sleep. the last time I slept a full night was when I was blacked out drunk and even then I woke up to take a piss but fell on my own vomit and hit my head on the toilet seat thus inducing a slight concussion but it was a good night’s sleep nonetheless. When I can’t sleep I tend to take a walk, luckily this was a city made for mid night walks and I needed to go buy more condoms. As if only the day was replaced by the moon, the city of Lyon was still vibrant and full of life. bars where open, jazz players where still playing on the road and couples walked around freely as if they were at a market in the middle of the day, I asked one of the locals for the nearest convince store and the fucker told me it was three blocks away. I didn’t mind, it seemed the further I walked the further away my problems became, I got to the convince store and started browsing as one does when in a foreign convince store. Everything is the same if you don’t count the different cereals and sodas. I was the only one in the store at least I thought I was until I heard the softest voice talking to the store clerk. I’ve heard French before I mean how can’t you when you’re in the middle of fucking Paris but this sounded heavenly, almost extra-terrestrial like an instrument yet to be created but sounded like something sweet from your past. I walked in front of the store, as one would do upon hearing the voice of an angel and in awe, I saw her. I’m not going to give you the whole rom com speal because like I said this is not a fucking romance. She was just there, like she was meant to be there as if she was there for me. She had a little back pack and short dress complimented with airforce 1 sneakers and a tiny hat. I had to say something; I had to fill up the space that was between us. “Bonjour, what adventure are you going to? Fuck do you speak English, sorry I mean uhhm fuck never mind” she smiled and said “Hey my name is Lui, yes I do speak English and do you have any adventure we can go on”. I paid for my shit, left the condoms of course and we walked around the city the whole night talked about our lives and our past and…

*fuck this is turning into a romance isn’t it

Fast forward to the end of the night we found ourselves next to a fountain talking about shit we knew we weren’t going to remember, she told me she lived near the hotel I was at ,a tiny apartment full of paintings done by her and her eccentric friends. She said she was having a party later into the day and invited me, I mean a night with pretentious art dealers and middle-aged drunks didn’t sound half as good as a night of sniffing cocaine up a hookers ass but she intrigued me and I wanted to go. The great thing about hookers is that they never run out so I could spare some debaucherous time to be a social human for one night, I mean semi social.

*relax we’re going back to the plot of the story in the next chapter you impatience fuck  

Chapter 4: Expiry date.  

It was the tiniest apartment I have ever been in but with some miracle, it was able to house 15 drunken belligerent artsy fartsy bearded and incense-smelling individuals. The music switched from pop rock to electric folk to some weird shit that can only be described as LSD in liquefied form and everybody in the room seemed to know everything about the musician or band. It was as if I joined a cult unknowingly and we were about to fuck a goat and eat celebratory rice cakes. From the minute, I entered the room I immediately regretted calling off my nightly escapades with hookers and cocaine until I saw her. She had a short poker dotted skirt on with the harshest BDSM boots I’ve ever seen in my life, her hair was shaped like a mushroom and she had glitter all over her face.

*can somebody tell this Disney ass author that this is not A FUCKING ROMANCE NOVEL

The minute I clocked eyes with her she gestured me towards her friends, I put my hand up as if to say no thanks, she saw my reluctance, smiled and came right over to me

Lui: thank you for making it, I didn’t think you would come

Frank: yeah, I haven’t listened to pop rock in a while so I decided to pop in

*Good she’s smiling  

Lui: would you like something to drink?

Frank: yeah what do you have on the menu?

Lui: this is Paris so we have wine obviously, I can make you a gin cocktail and we have beer if you’re trying to be a prude

Frank: I’ll be a Prude thank you.  

Lui: ill be right back, just don’t move

Frank: I’ll be right here

I scrolled through my phone looking at pictures I’ve already seen before as one does in a socially award situation. A pixie girl with pink hair came up to me and proceeded to bombard me with a verbal avalanche of gypsy talk and indigo gibberish. I entertained her for a while until Lui came back to save me. Lui and I sat on the sofa together and besides the interruptions of people telling us how high or drunk they were we had a very in depth conversation. Within an hour we were making out, we decided to go up the roof of her apartment for some fresh air.

Frank: i expected a bed looking unto the stars but I guess this will do.

Lui: I’ve had sex on harsher and more abstract places

Frank: London 2003 I had sex in a cemetery while people where burying my father.

Lui: Wow! Impressive, Paris 2012 I had sex in a church with the youth pastor while the service was still in progress. The pastor’s wife walked in on us and told the whole church, my mother didn’t talk to me for years.

Frank: Wow, I didn’t take you in for a church person.

Lui: what can I say Youth pastors are hot.

The sky was bare with sprinkles of stars. the stars were clear and vivid as if they wanted you to look at them. The moon was not shy as well. a crescent moon held the sky together and on top of the roof, it looked larger than life. As always the air was warm, I laid the big trench coat I had, on the floor and well yeah we had sex.

*I’m sorry but what’s this author’s obsession with my sex life like fuck, has he heard of porn before?

Lui: Fuck! Oh my God. Ahhhhhh, wow you’re amazing.

Frank: You’re not too bad yourself. Wow, thank you, I guess.

Lui: you’re welcome. Im gonna miss this

Frank: I mean we can do it again.

Lui: no I mean sex, intimacy, love, passion just life

Frank: are you transferring to a nun school tomorrow?

Lui: I have Lupus and not to get into the nitty grittys of it all but yeah im going to die in a couple of months, I’m in pain every day and I want to kill myself everyday but I never find the strength to do it

*well this just got awkward.

Frank: one way to kill the romance Lui

Lui: I’m sorry but were never going to see each other again so I just thought id lay it all onto you

Frank: well if there’s an afterlife, which there isn’t, ill be sure to pop you in a visit

Lui: I’ll be next to Jesus and the youth pastors trying to get some dick

Frank: You’re hilarious, life shouldn’t take people like you, you deserve to grow old and have kids and grandkids and share your light and lessons with them

Lui: I’ve made peace with it, I mean I don’t have control over it but I do have control on how I want it to happen

Frank: oh yeah?

Lui: I want my last moments to be in an island at a beach somewhere looking Over the horizon with wine in my hand a blunt in the other and a smile on my face

Frank: wow that’s a very specific request

Lui: I read it on those cancer books those white people read, you know the ones where one teenager is dying of cancer and the other does something romantic for them

Frank: like ‘A fault in our stars’?

Lui: Exactly! But  I know I’ll probably die in a hospital or in my house if I’m lucky.

Frank: I never thought I’d have sex and talk about a terminal disease right after

Lui: stick with me baby and you’ll be introduced to a world of new sexual dialogue.

We walked back into the party, I had every reason to leave but I wanted to stay, so I stayed. The party ended at 3 in the morning. The host blacked out and I had nothing to do so I cleaned up her house, I went to a local coffee shop at 6 in the morning, came back to the apartment to find her awake, blushing and with a terrible hangover. I gave her coffee and waited for her to come out the shower, I didn’t know what I was waiting for but it seemed like the right thing to do, I heard a gut wrenching scream from the bathroom. I ran in and there she was naked, convulsing in pain, I held her and tried to cradle her to health but it didn’t work. I called the ambulance and spent the rest of the day in hospital. Throughout the day her friends and her family showed up. They all asked who I was and I just kept on saying I was an acquaintance. The doctor came in and told us that She was responsive but she was in immense pain, she could make out words and she kept on telling the doctors that she was in pain and she just wanted to go. The doctors said there was nothing they could do but wait. the pain wouldn’t stop. She could go home and wait to die there or die in the hospital. A decision was made for her to go home. I walked passed the doctors as secretly as I could, grabbed a wheel chair, went into her room and took her out the back of the hospital. I called out a cab and told him to drive to the beach, it was 5 o’clock in the morning and the sun was coming up. We pulled up to the beach, I gave the cab driver a thousand Euros and told him to wait for us. We pushed the wheel chair onto the sand close to the water, I took off her shoes and put them in the water, I cradled her and we watched the sun rise. A tear fell from her eyes, she tried to mumble out a thank you but she couldn’t move her mouth, I looked at her and kissed her on her head. I took her back into cab and told the cab driver to drive back to her apartment, laid her on her bed. Took a pillow and smothered her the fastest way I could. Her hand shaking with pain from her Lupas, stopped and for a while it seemed like her body was at peace, I left a note on top of the kitchen counter next to the cold coffee detailing what I had done and why I did it. I told her parents they could hate me or blame me but this is what she wanted. I also gave them the address of my hotel. I took her phone, called the first contact I found and told them that she was at her apartment.

*I told you this is not a fucking Disney story

Chapter 5- Walking with the lights off

I honestly don’t know how you stayed through out the story but you’re here now, you’ve made it, I would say I’m proud of you but I don’t really care. I guess the author wanted the last chapter to be a mushy moment that would provoke me to come to a Jesus moment and not kill myself

*pussy

And he was right, I think my character arch was cemented in the last chapter. I found something that I cared about and realized that life is meaningful and watching a life fade away in-front of my eyes, she made me realize that I have so much to live for, Sike I’m still going to kill myself. I told you that I’m a nihilistic asshole and things would come to this, you read on and I told you not too, so now that we’re here time to end this chapter with a bang.

I waited in the hotel for 4 days and no one came, no police, no family member and no friends. Sometimes blue lights would flicker outside and I would get myself ready but they never came. I don’t know what I was waiting for, redemption, pain, punishment, I don’t even know why I left my address in Lui’s apartment. All I know is that in the days and nights I spent with Lui I felt a sense of belonging that I had never felt before and doing what I did to her made me realize that maybe I do have a moral compass. Within 5 days I figured the family had understood the letter and how she was in pain, I hoped that they understood that I didn’t do anything maliciously. Until I got a visit from a middle aged women in all black attire with sunglasses on. It was Lui’s mom. We sat in the garden of the hotel and I didn’t know what to say, I mean what do you say to the mother of someone you’ve killed. She looked at me, and said “Your eyes carry pain, just like my daughters eyes” I didn’t say anything. That was not something I was expecting her to say. She continued  “I’ve been fighting with my family the whole week on whether we should arrest you or kill you ourselves”. I then replied “Since there are no police here I’m thinking you decided to do the latter?”

“No, I convinced them not to do both, you see I knew the pain my daughter was going through, I think I just got selfish and wanted her to stay a little longer. I want to thank you for helping her with her pain, although you’ve brought my family great pain as we couldn’t say goodbye to her the way we wanted to, you’ve closed a chapter that needed to be closed. I wanted to see you before you disappeared, I don’t know why but I wanted to see your eyes and now that I’m here I realize that there is no one who can save you from your turmoil, your eyes long for a rest you can’t have, I pray that you find solace in this life or the next” and just like that she got up, shook my hand and left. I didn’t know what to feel afterwards but I knew what I had to do.

I grabbed a gym bag, walked out the hotel room at 3am in the morning, I hired a cab to drive me to Lui’s apartment, I left flowers on the entrance of her apartment I then told the driver to drive to the beach, I waited till the clock hit 4:30. The sun came up slowly. It was beautiful I didn’t deserve the view . I kneeled along the shore and took out the gun

*you see, one thing I know about myself is that I’m very self aware. I know my wrongs and I know my rights(as little as they may be). I understand that I’m probably a sick individual, I understand that sometimes someone like myself needs help but I think I’ve ran enough, from my past, my demons and myself. I don’t remember a time I was ever happy and I don’t resent God, my family or myself for it. I have limits and I just happened to run out of them. Sometimes you just have to take the brunt of your inner turmoil and throw them in the fire. As much as I am an asshole, I have a soul and I hope somehow I’ve been able to leave a positive peace of myself attached to someone and changed their lives cause it would be a shame living such a shitty life to not impact at least one person, anyway....

BANG!!

End.

[writingjourney]

The Perfect Man (Scott Lang x reader)

Part 2/3

Summary: You’re in love with your best friend, but trying to get over him by going on dates isn’t very promising…

Pairing: Scott Lang x reader

A/N: The second part, hey :)

Word count: 1.488

(Y/N) = your name

Warnings: fluff, weird guy from tinder, Scott being Scott

(Masterlist) - Part 1 - Part 3

Friday evening arrived fast. Scott was out with Luis and the others, so you had your peace and quiet while getting dressed. To your dismay, Scott had been right - Josh, the tinder guy - was posh and had suggested taking you to this fancy restaurant downtown. You walked around your flat half-naked, throwing your clothes all over the place since you felt underdressed in all of them. The only option was a little black dress, classy and chick, but to be quite honest, you didn't like dressing up for that guy, pretending to like this fancy stuff. Reluctantly, you slipped the dress on and did your hair and make-up more nicely than usual.

If that was your last date in a while, you might as well make an effort and feel good about yourself for a night.

About five minutes before Josh was supposed to pick you up, your door suddenly opened. For a moment you were startled, but it was Scott who had barged in like a madman.

"Scott? I thought you were out?" you asked. "Josh will be here any minute."

"I was out, but I had to come home," he said. „Don't go on that date, please."

"What? Why?" you asked.

Before Scott could give you an answer, though, the doorbell rang and startled you both. You decided to ignore Scott and his obvious confusion and opened. Josh was standing in front of it, looking quite handsome in a suit. At least he wasn't a fraud and looked like the pictures.

He smiled at you, showing perfect teeth and dimples. "Hey, you look... gorgeous. Can we go?"

"Hi," you said, but you were interrupted by Scott.

"No, you can't go," were his words in an unusually angry tone.

Josh frowned and laughed. "And who are you, gangster? Her boyfriend?"

"Yes, I am," Scott said confidently. "You better leave now, dude."

Josh looked at you in confusion. "Seriously?"

"No, he- wait Josh!" The guy was already leaving and you glared at Scott. "Thanks for ruining my evening."

He called after you as you grabbed your purse and ran after Josh, but didn't follow. You caught Josh outside the building and he waited. "God, I'm so sorry."

"What was that?" he asked.

"That was my roommate, or rather best friend," you explained. "He is quite protective and doesn't trust tinder, so he... well, tried to keep me from going out with a stranger."

"I'm not a stranger, though, am I? We texted quite a lot," Josh said.

Sure... you wanted to roll your eyes but decided against it. "Well, he didn't know that. Anyway, he's certainly not my boyfriend, so it doesn't really matter."

Josh nodded. "Alright, let's go then, so we're not late. Maybe you should consider throwing him out, though, would be annoying if he kept doing that."

You decided to ignore his judgmental attitude and followed him to his car. Sure enough, it really was a BMW and you mentally cursed Scott for being right. Anyway, you wouldn't be judging Josh based on just that. Maybe the evening would turn out to be really nice, maybe he was just nervous.

* * *

Spoiler alert: It didn't turn out to be a great evening. You were in that fancy restaurant with Josh who only talked about his pseudo-cool job and that he earned so much money that he would love to have a stay-at-home wife, to accompany him to events and wear designer clothes. He told you he had enough money to buy an apartment in New York City that was overlooking Central Park.

You knew this was an absolute waste of time, but since you had left Scott so angrily and he was probably still at home, you didn't want to leave right away and admit defeat. Instead you tried being polite and end the evening calmly, eating the disgusting posh food and drinking expensive cocktails. Sadly, Josh over-interpreted your behavior as interest and tried to touch you more often, reaching for your hand and later even trying to touch your thigh. You decided that was not worth it and told him you needed to go to the bathroom.

You practically sneaked out of the restaurant without him noticing and then sprinted a few blocks away before halting. By now, this whole situation was overwhelming you - from this slimy man who had no depth in character to the realization that you would never ever get over Scott. Tears were clouding your vision and you sat down on a bench on the sidewalk, trying to calm down.

Without Josh's BMW it would take you an hour to get home and you really didn't want to walk that far at night all by yourself. Calling Scott was the first thing that came to your mind, but could you? Would he still be mad that you left? Were you still mad he ruined the start to your terrible date?

No, you weren't, because he had been right. But you were mad at yourself for trying to fool you into believing that you would ever be able to love someone other than Scott. It was hopeless.

When you looked at your phone, you saw that he had send you message. I'm sorry, it said and then he had sent you one of these stickers of a cat that looked at you with big, pleading eyes. Damn, for second he had managed to make you smile, just like that. You started to cry harder as your heart got heavy.

Pressing the phone to your ear, you waited.

* * *

Scott's POV

He was such an idiot. Earlier today he had been out with Luis and the boys, trying to distract himself from the fact that you were going out with this stupid tinder guy. He had been absent-minded all the time until Luis had asked him what was going on. Scott had told him about your dates and since he had known for a long time that Scott was in love with you, he just told him to finally say it and be done with it. Scott knew his friend was right... but until now he had been scared to say it. You were his best friend, his anchor, the person who was always there for him no matter what happened, you even got along splendidly with Cassie. But since you had been seeing all these other men, he figured you weren't interested in him in that way.

But then Luis made him imagine that your date could be great and that he'd lose you forever... so Scott had decided to risk it. He was done pretending not to be jealous, not to be miserable whenever you were on a date and hoping, despite the fact that he hated to see you sad, that you would call him and ask him to pick you up.

He had messed up this time, you had been rightfully mad at him for ruining your date. And now he was slouching on your couch watching some crappy tv show and ordering take out food. He had decided on his favorite Chinese food and couldn't help ordering your favorite, too, just in case you came back home and were still hungry after that unsatisfying posh food.

Scott had sent you a message of apology, but you hadn't replied yet, so the date was probably going well. He imagined you sitting there with this guy, holding his hand while he fed you with caviar or other expensive shit. That wasn't at all like you, though, and the thought was too depressing to dwell on.

It was when his phone rang, that he felt an indescribable relief. Your face lit up his screen and he immediately picked up, but when he only heard a sob, his relief changed to worry.

"(Y/N)? What's up? Are you okay?" he asked.

He heard you sniffle. "Yea, I... God, I'm sorry, Scott. I shouldn't have just left you."

"Don't apologize," Scott said. "Just tell me what's wrong."

"I'm an idiot," you cried. "You were right, it was awful. I can't believe I'm not learning."

"Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I don't know," you answered and he supposed you meant the latter question.

Scott sighed. "Okay, well, I'm coming for you. Can you tell me where you are, sweetheart?"

"Somewhere downtown, I have no idea."

"Then send me your location and I'll pick you up, yea?"

"Okay."

"I'll be there in a bit, just stay safe, pumpkin. I'm coming."

"Scott?"

"Yea?"

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You will never be without me, I promise."

He hung up and a few seconds later he got a message from you with your exact location. Scott was incredibly worried - if that guy had done anything bad to you, he would probably do something stupid.

But for now, his sole focus was on getting to you and see that you got home safely.

* * * Last Part

[arostormblessed]

Babysitting

Soo this is my first time writing a fic and it’s a little bit iffy but eh I’m posting it anyway. It ended up being a lot longer than originally intended so I’m only putting up the first part right now. WIP so don’t judge too hard. It looks like it’s going to be a cool action story about some looming villain but is actually just about the avenger kids babysitting Morgan. Lots of Peter & Morgan being siblings ‘cause I love them. Oh and contains Endgame spoilers I guess so don’t read if you haven’t seen it yet. Enjoy

___________________________________________

Communication was iffy, to say the least, among the remaining Avengers after the second snap. What with many retiring, some being halfway across the world, and a large percentage of them in space, it wasn’t always clear as to how to get in touch with each other. Whenever a threat arose big enough to alert everyone, it usually went through Nick Fury, who seemed to have an obscure way of contacting everyone. At the moment, though, he and Agent Hill were investigating the aftermath of some European incidents, and were indisposed. That meant the process was much slower.

It had started when Carol Danvers, Captain Marvel herself, had heard about trouble brewing on a distant planet; something that might affect the rest of the galaxy as well. Upon visiting the said planet and realizing it was much worse than she could have imagined, she made the decision to call in some backup.

 She managed to track down the Benatar, because of the homing device the Guardians had entrusted to her. From there, Thor gave Rocket Bruce’s email address and sent him a message, hoping for the best. Intergalactic messaging is normally not the quickest, but it was going to have to work. Carol led the Guardians to the planet, insisting there was no time to waste. The Earthens would make it there eventually, but until they did, there wasn’t a minute to spare.

 Dr. Bruce Banner, currently large, green, and Hulky, received the email approximately twenty-two hours after it was sent. He was working in his lab then, and at first was delighted to get correspondence from his adventuring buddies, but quickly became horrified at the news. He made nine phone calls in the next half-hour, to a various number of people.

.***

“So, uh, because of all that there will be a Wakandan airship arriving on your farm in about two minutes…”

“Um, what? Buddy, you gotta be kidding me. I’m retired, I thought you were too.” Clint had his phone pinched between his ear and his shoulder, attempting at multitasking. 

 “I know, I know, but-” Bruce paused and flinched as loud grinding sounds came from the other end. “What exactly are you doing right now?”

 “I was trying to finish building our new shed.” Holding a wooden beam upright, he clicked the button on the drill he was holding and it whined as it forced in a screw. Using his left hand to dust sawdust off of his shirt, he set the drill down on his workbench and laid the phone flat on his shoulder. “Lila, hon, come here a sec. Tell your Uncle Bruce why I’m not skipping out on our father-daughter weekend.”

“Sure, Dad.” She laughed, setting down the bucket of apples she had been picking from a nearby tree. She jogged over to him and was handed the phone. Clint returned to building his shed.

 “Clint- are you there?”

“Hey Uncle Bruce, I’m really sorry but my dad is unavailable this weekend because mom took the boys to her parents and I finally don’t have to deal with them for once, and once he’s done with his latest construction project he promised to teach me some moves on his sword and then we’re staying up late and eating ice cream-hey Dad what’s that noi-”

 She dropped the phone in surprise as huge gusts of wind blew down on them from above. Lila’s hair whipped around her face as a glowing hexagonal shield appeared in the sky, revealing a sleek black airship. She glanced at Clint, who was shielding his eyes with his hand. He sighed. “Guess we’re going to have to pick this back up next weekend.”

***

The couch at the Lang household was, as far as they were concerned, the most comfortable piece of furniture in the world. Scott, Hope and Cassie had all settled into it, gigantic bowls of popcorn on their laps, and were just about to press play on their favorite movie when their phone rang. Scott dramatically dropped the remote beside him in defeat, and reached over to grab the phone from the coffee table.

“Who is it, Dad?” Cassie asked, looking over to see the number.

“If it’s Luis again, just leave it,” Hope joked, playfully stealing some popcorn from Cassie’s bowl. 

“No, no. I gotta take this. It’s Bruce, my favorite guy!” he exclaimed, stepping into the next room.

“Is that the big green one?” Cassie whispered as Hope laughed.

“Hey, Doc Green, what’s up? Scott asked, leaning against the wall.

“Something bad, I’m afraid. We need both of you to come in.” 

Scott rubbed his forehead. “What’s wrong? Can’t someone else take it for once? We just started movie night, man.”

“That’s pretty much what Clint said. But no, it’s an emergency, and we’re calling in the whole team.” Cassie listened from the living room, waiting anxiously. Secretive phone calls were never good. And neither were giant airships in your backyard.

***

“Bruce- are you sure? I mean, I’ve got both the kids here, and-” Pepper spoke into the phone with a hushed voice, leaning against the kitchen counter. She glanced over to the dining room table, where Peter was helping Morgan with her homework. Not that she had much homework at six years old, but Peter had taken it upon himself to make sure she lived up to the reputation of her genius father. That meant many late-night reading sessions.

In the year since the second snap, Peter and Morgan had grown close. They were basically siblings. Peter bounced from his apartment to the lake house to HQ, and Pepper had gotten to know him better. She really liked the kid, and decided to keep up her late husband’s legacy of parenting him. It’s what Tony would have wanted, anyway.

“I’m sorry, Pepper, but we really need everyone we can get. Rescue’s needed, too.” Bruce hated calling everyone in from their lives, but it was crucial.

Careful not to disturb the kids, she sighed and said quietly, “All right. But the kid stays here.”

“But Pepper, he’s got some powerful skills-”

 “Out of the question. He’s seventeen, and he’s already had to deal with enough after everything Fury put him through.”

He started to protest more, but just sighed. “Okay, fine. Everyone’s going to meet up at your place in a few minutes. Expect lots of airships.”

 “At this point, nothing would surprise me.” She hung up and set the phone down on the counter. She rested her chin in her hands, deep in thought. She had never been to space before; it was both exciting and terrifying. She didn’t want to leave Morgan, who had already lost one parent to a supernatural battle, but everything Bruce had told her made it clear this mission was more important than their daily lives. If Carol Danvers, one of the most powerful people in the galaxy, called for help, it was definitely serious.

“W-wan-”

“Close, look at the context clues.”

 “Wonderful!”

 “Yeah, you got it! Nice job, Morgs.” Pepper watched from the kitchen as Peter gave Morgan two high fives. Morgan was usually ornery as a donkey when it came to learning new words, but with Peter she didn’t seem to mind. She thought he was the coolest person in the world.

“Can we take a break? We’ve been going for hours,” she whined, yawning a little and slumping over into his lap. “And I want a juice pop.”

 “Perfect timing. It’s probably getting close to your bedtime, too,” he teased, tickling the back of her neck. She squealed and sat up, batting away his hands. Scampering into the kitchen, she made a mad dash for the freezer before Pepper sidestepped in front of her, blocking it.

“Uh uh, little miss. Supper before dessert.” Morgan crossed her arms and stamped her foot, but failed to contain a smile. 

 “You haven't cooked us dinner yet, Mommy! How are we supposed to eat it?” she cried, throwing up her arms. 

 “There’s the leftover risotto in the fridge, I told you I would heat it up when you wanted it.”

She made a face. “That stuff’s gross.”

Pepper shrugged. “Guess you don’t get juice pops, then.”

“Hey- hey, Mrs. Stark, what’s happening out there?” Peter had pulled aside the curtains and was peeking out the window, where in the soft evening light you could just make out several descending airships. And a lot of noise.

“Mommy?” Morgan asked hesitantly, looking at her with wide, anxious eyes.

“Don’t worry, kids,” Pepper replied, walking up to the door and unlocking it. “This is just...well, you’ll see.”

Part two to come soon!

[anagentinwriting]

To Catch a Thief - Final Part

Summary: Being an FBI field agent was your dream job but having been stuck behind a desk for most of your career you’ve almost given up. Fortunately, a series of robberies with minimal evidence forces you to assist a team in the field to help solve the case. But when the only thing left behind is a series of song lyrics, will you be able to find the perp? Or will the number of obstacles and lack of evidence keep you from solving the case?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Word Count: 3584

Warnings: Fluff, language

To Catch a Thief Masterlist / Main Masterlist

After handing in the evidence box, you headed to Trash Panda. The team and a few other agents were already waiting for you to have celebratory drinks for a case closed.  As the night wore on, you did what you do best, put on a face for everyone and try to sort out your feelings. Peter was working the bar tonight, and you caught him gawking at you a few times. You sent a wink his way forcing a blush to his face.

Tonight, you saw Peter differently. You knew how he felt about you, yet you didn’t know how you were feeling about him. Peter’s the guy with a reputation of bringing home random girls and never getting serious. Why would he want to settle and get serious with you?

The guys at your table left to go play pool leaving you with Gamora and Mantis. “What’s going on with you tonight?” Gamora asked, reaching over and squeezing your forearm. “You’re so quiet tonight.”

“Hmmm…..it’s nothing.” Your eyes flash to hers before taking a sip of your beer.

“You are lying,” Mantis said as you shot her a hard glare. “It’s my job. What’s bothering you?”

“It’s stupid,” you answered picking at the label on the beer bottle.

“I’m good at being stupid,” Mantis replied, Gamora agreed then stopped when she realized what came out of her mouth. You shake your head glancing in Peters direction seeing him talking to a group of women.

“It’s about Peter, isn’t it?”

Your head snapped to Gamora. “I saw the disk of you and Kraglin debriefing him, but it felt more like you were interrogating him.”

“Shit, Kraglin didn’t throw it away. Damn it,” Gamora cursed under her breath. “I’m sorry we should’ve told you.  We were just looking out for you.” She paused tilting her head as she realized something. “That’s it, isn’t it.” You narrowed your eyes at her. “You’re freaking out because Peter’s falling in love with you and you don’t know what to think.”

“That’s ridiculous. We haven’t even talked about our feelings towards each other and here you are making accusations about how I feel about him.”

“I sense you care very deeply about him and he does for you too. Right now, Peter's uncomfortable with those women around him, especially since they’re blocking his view of you. And you're jealous of all those women around your boyfriend,” Mantis explained.

“Um...okay... but to clarify he’s not my boyfriend. Sure, we’ve hooked up, but he can do whomever he wants whenever. Ah….I should get going. I forgot I have to do something tomorrow morning.” You put on your jacket and walked past Gamora as she grabbed your arm.

“Hey, if you’re afraid of getting hurt. Talk to the one guy that knows Peter best. Yondu.”

You walked into the field office first thing Monday morning with a good feeling. It was the start of a new week, which meant a new case for the team. All weekend you avoided Peter hoping to get your feelings sorted out, but instead, it turned into binging every romantic comedy and thinking about anything other than your feelings. Your only focus was on the two people falling in love on the television screen. If only love was that easy to figure out?

You waved at a smiling Luis and went straight to Yondus office. You decided to take Gamora's advice and talk to Yondu. If anyone was going to tell you the truth about Peter, it was him.

You knocked, hearing him yell to come in, and stepped inside. “Hey, Yondu. Sorry to disturb you but I’m here for some advice,” you said, taking a seat across from him.

“What does this pertain to?” Yondu raised his eyebrows crossing his arms across his chest.

“Personal matters.”

“You know, I don’t like hearing about my agent's personal lives. I especially don’t like hearing about their problems,” he huffed. “But considering things and how I view my agents as friends and some as family, including you, I’ll hear what you have to say.”

“Damn Yondu, I didn’t know you were so sensitive. What one do you consider me as?” Luis asked through the phone sitting on Yondus desk.

“How many times have I told you, boy, to stop putting yourself through my phone and listening to my conversations. Some of them are very personal.”

“Sorry sorry sorry, but for real though am I part of Yondu family or Yondu friends.”

Yondu stared at the phone shaking his head. “Family, but it might change if you don’t get off the line.”

“Yes! You know I had this a feeling I was, but now that you said it I feel like we reached a new level.” Yondu shook his head, letting out a loud sigh.  “Sorry, I’m sorry, continue on with your personal conversation that I will not be listening to. Hanging up now.” Luis goes offline. "Yes," Luis shouted loud enough from the main lobby for you to hear him Yondu's office.

Yondu grunted, “I’m going to regret telling him that.” You cracked a small smile. “Now about Peter?”

“How do you know it’s about him?”

“Call it a hunch.” You covered your hands over your face shaking your head. “It’s okay. Peter’s like a son to me, but I want you to know I can’t tell you everything. It’s not my place, but I can try to help in any way I can.”

“I guess…. I guess I’m here because I want some insight on what Peter is like in someone else's eyes. I want your honest opinion about him.”

“It shouldn’t matter how I feel about him. It’s about your feelings towards him.”

“Feelings? Get real, Yondu,” you scoffed, making Yondu tilt his head not believing you. “Fine, yes I may or may not have feelings for Peter Quill. They are just conflicting with each other at the moment, and I don’t know what to believe. One side is saying go for it while the other side is saying runaway so you don’t get hurt.” Yondu smirked, shaking his head as if he knew something you didn’t.

“Well, I met him at a tragic point in his life when he was 10 years old, but you already know that.” You nodded. “From that day forward, I kept a close eye on him, but back then, he never got into much trouble. His mama raised a polite boy, but a few years later he came back on my radar again. This time he got caught stealing food from a gas station, and the owner pressed charges against him even though Peter returned the food.

After this, Peter went through a troubled phase. He’d get into fights at school when the other kids teased him for being scrawny or how he didn’t have a father. I mean, these kids were terrible. They went as far as saying no one wanted him, not even his dad, or how Meredith gave herself cancer to get away from him. It was a tough time for him, especially with his mom still recovering.”

“Wow! I had no idea. He never shared any of that with me,” you said, staring hard at the nameplate on Yondu’s desk.

“It’s tough to talk about the past when you’d rather forget it,” Yondu said as you gave him a knowing nod. “Peter has a big heart and cares about the people in his life including you. He might come off as a womanizer, dick, a-hole, or whatever, but I can promise you he’ll never hurt you.  He’s a sensitive guy that wears his emotions on his sleeve. This gets him in trouble a lot because he acts before thinking through with the consequences. In some situations, his emotions take over, and he can’t hold them down, so he lashes out and does something stupid. Like, I read in your report about him pushing you out of the way to save you from the bullet, but he ended up getting shot in the process.” He shook his head, making you crack a half smile.

“He’s a good boy, but he gets lost sometimes when he doesn’t want to give up on those he cares about. Right now, he doesn’t want to give up on you or you to give up on him. Many people have let him down in the past, like his jackass of a father, and you know what that feels like.

“But, you should know Peter isn’t the only one that cares about you.  Me, Gamora, Kraglin, Luis, and many more care about you, too. We will always help you if you’re having a problem or if you want to talk. We aren’t going anywhere, and we don’t take you for granted. I know you have trust issues, but you can rely on us to be there when you need us. Give it time with Quill. I know you might run away to escape your feelings. Hell, you might feel like you're not good enough for him or this job because your mother was the same way.”

“You.....you knew my mother?” Your eyes snapped up to his.

“I never told you this, but we were in the same Quantico graduating class. She was a strong headed woman that didn’t like to take other people’s crap,” he chuckled. “Anyways, there was a time at Quantico when she wanted to quit and run away because she didn’t think she was good enough. Then, she started dating your father and finally believed in herself. That’s what people do who care about you, they bring you up, and make you believe you’re capable of anything.

When I found out you were her daughter, I knew you’d be a hard worker and push your limits. You’re exactly like her but running away isn’t the answer. No matter how messy life gets, I want you to know there are people who do care about you.”

There was more to Yondu than you realized. He wore this cocky, arrogant attitude to cover up how much he cared. He was looking out for you in all this; everyone was. You were too focused on the case to notice you were building relationships.

“Thanks. Um...I think I got what I needed,” You nodded, standing up.

“Your welcome. If you need anything my door is always open,” He grinned, showing off all his ugly teeth. “And for god sacks, Luis get off the fucking line.”

“You know what I don’t even regret hearing all that. It was beautiful, you know like those donuts with red white and blue sprinkles in the break room.”

“See you Yondu.”

“Bye kid.” He waved as you left his office.

Yondu was right you needed to stop running. You ran from your horrible foster parents once you were old enough. You ran when you found out your high school boyfriend was cheating on you with your best friend.  You ran when your foster sister was stealing money from your secret stash. And you broke up with your boyfriend at Quantico because you weren’t ready for a big time commitment.

You run when things get hard, you always have, but maybe it was time to stop running. You finally made friends who will be there through thick and thin.  It was a strange feeling, but it was a good feeling. You finally had what you always wanted, a family, and right now, you were pushing away the one person you truly cared about.

You walked past Peter’s door wondering if he was at home.  You haven’t returned any of his texts or calls all weekend, but you needed to talk to him after speaking with Yondu. You unlocked your door and switched on the light as you flipped through your mail. A figure moved in the corner of your eye making you drop your mail and pull your gun from your holster. You pointed your gun at the figure only to realize it was Peter.

“Peter, what the fuck?” You shouted, lowering the gun and setting it on the table. “You scared the crap out of me. I could’ve shot you. How did you even get in here?” You stared at him in disbelief. He sat on the other side of the island wearing a gray t-shirt stretching across his pecs. His shirt sleeve sat high enough to show the small scar on his bicep where he took the bullet. He was sporting a few day's scruff making him look dirtier; This type of look on the man always distracted you.

“Sorry, but this isn’t the first time I picked your lock,” he winked.  “Among other things I’ve entered.” You sighed, shaking your head at his childish ways.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have some good news.” You stayed silent waiting for him to continue. “My mom’s cancer is gone, and when I say it’s gone, it’s obliterated.” He insinuated an explosion with his hands. “It’s crazy! Before we left Wakanda and after we got back she was feeling and looking better.  Then, she went to the doctor, and he did some scans, but he couldn’t find anything. The tumor in her head was gone. He said it was a miracle.”

“That’s great, Peter. I’m happy for you and your mom,” you smiled, moving around the island to take the seat next to him. You were generally happy for him. He still had time with her, and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye to the only family he had left.

“This is going to sound insane, but I have a feeling it was the Infinity Stones. When they were glowing it felt like something was happening, or does that sound ridiculous?”

“It’s not crazy at all. I felt something that day, too,” you replied, placing your hand on his thigh. He glanced down at your hand, and you quickly pulled it back to your lap. “Many legends say the Infinity Stones have magical attributes. Valkyrie believed they only caused destruction, but T’Challa mentioned they can perform miracles, too.”

“I guess, I should be happy I had to hunt down those stones then,” he huffed, eyeing you up and down. You remained quiet not knowing how to say what you wanted to say to him. “Can we talk about the elephant in the room?”

“What elephant in the room?”

“The one where you have been dodging me all weekend. You didn’t even say goodbye when you left Trash Panda the other night, and you haven’t returned any of my messages. Did I say or do something to offend you?”

“No, it’s nothing like that at all. It’s...it’s hard to explain?”

“I got nowhere to be tonight but here.”

You gulped down the frog in your throat wringing your hands together. It was now or never; face your fears or run away from them. “Whenever things get hard in my life, I run thinking it will solve all my problems. It doesn’t, but it makes me feel better or at least I make myself believe it does.”

You bit your lip trying to decide where to go with this. “I don’t like to get close to people. You know this, I’ve told you this. It’s kind of my way to protect myself. A defense mechanism if you will.” Peter nodded. “Whatever this is--” you pointed at Peter then to you “--scares the shit out of me. I don’t know whether to run from it or dive in head first to see where this thing goes.”

“I’m scared, too.” Your head snapped up at his words. “I must admit, my feelings for you started the day you banged on my door wearing your robe and bunny slippers,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know where this new friendship would lead, but I found myself caring about you. The more I learned about you, the more I fell for you.

You know in the movies, where one character takes the big step in showing how much the other character means to them. Whether it’s a big romantic gesture, saving their life, or realizing they have always had this unspoken thing between them. I have always wanted that, but I never knew when it was going to happen. If it was ever going to happen.  Sure in movies it can happen anywhere, but in reality, you don’t know. The characters on the screen can show us what it looks like to fall in love, but to experience it firsthand is a whole different story. Truth is, I never experienced what love felt like until I met you,” Peter confessed with his eyes never leaving yours.

The nerves in your body fired in every direction making your stomach tingle and twist into never-ending knots. Your palms started to sweat as your face flushed pink. You knew how he felt about you, but him telling you directly brought a whole different feeling to you. What were you scared of? A broken heart, the unknown, or how your life would unravel if this ended badly. This was you, always thinking about the awful things that could happen, but never taking the chance to see what could happen. You needed to stop worrying and take the plunge head first into the deep end.

Peter makes you happy. When your life got stressful he kept you sane and helped you get things off your mind. He could make you crack a smile, even if he told you the lamest joke you ever heard. He was there for you when you needed him, and it was starting to feel like he always would be. He saved your life and risked his own to protect you. You cared about him and wanted to be there for him like he has been there for you. For the first time in a long time, you started to remember what it felt like to be loved.

“Earth to YN?”

You snapped out of your trance. “Sorry, lost in my head.” You cleared your throat continuing. “You’re insufferable. An adult child that listens to the same songs over and over again, and sings them obnoxiously loud. A guy who still believes the greatest movie in history is Footloose even though it never was. And for some reason, you think all problems can be solved with a dance-off.” Peter frowned at his hands in his lap. “It’s insane how these little things make you so god damn irresistible.” Peter tilted his head up as you continued.

“The only love I’ve ever seen was from my parents. My dad always looked at my mom like it was the first time they met. He was always so cutesy towards her and constantly doing things to make her feel loved. I never thought someone would give me those same feelings my dad gave my mom every day until I met you. I’m in love with you Peter.” You peeked up at him, but before you could continue, his lips collided with yours.

At first, you’re taken by surprise, but you closed your eyes sliding your hands up his chest to his neck deepening the kiss. His hands rest on your waist pulling you closer to him forcing you off your stool to stand between his legs. His lips were soft against making a moan escape the back of your throat as his tongue slid into your mouth. You pulled away resting your forehead against his and stared at him unable to keep the smile off your face. When he opened his eyes, and all you saw was love.

“What’s the plan now? Are you going to run from this or are you going to dive in headfirst with me?” Peter asked, standing up and resting his hands on your hips pulling you towards him. “Whatever you choose just know that I am holding onto you tight so it will be harder for you to escape.”

“If I do run--” he pulled you tighter to his body, making you shake your head “--I think I would be running from one of the best things that has ever happened to me." You leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. “And it would be a mistake to not give this unspoken thing between us a shot.”

He smirked, clenching the back of his jaw. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, sweetheart.” He leaned down and faintly brushed his lips across yours. “What do you feel like doing now?” He asked, licking his lips waiting for an answer.

“You think I am going to put out on our first date?” You asked with pursed lips. “I know who you are, Peter Quill! And I am not some starry-eyed girl here to succumb to your pelvic sorcery!”

“Wow, pelvic sorcery, huh? Didn’t know I was that good with my wand? Or did I?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you making you roll your eyes. “So, what’s next? Something bad, something good, a bit of both?” He nudged his hips against yours making you bit your cheek to keep from smiling.

“Bit of both,” you replied, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth.  

“I think that’s doable.” He flashed you a playful smile unable to break his gaze from your taunting lips. In one swift movement, he lifted you onto his shoulder forcing a squeal out of you, and you slapped him on the ass. You both laughed as he carried you to the bedroom.

AN: And we have reached the end! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed my first series as much as I liked writing it!