#my boss was off this week — which puts me in charge of all these children that i call coworkers.

[quick-drawn]

— howdy,

[buckyalpine]

Catch Me If You Can 1/3

Mob!Bucky x Single mom police officer Reader 

This is a crack fic, ridiculousness, cuteness, angstttt. 

Warnings: Kidnapping, fluffffff, single mom reader, crappy ex, Mob Bucky is a whole ass warning 

LMK how you feel about these 2 

Part 2

Part 3

-

The plan was simple. Not the most ideal, not the first thing the mob boss would have planned to but desperate times called for desperate measures. He needed this shipment to go through and he was done being patient. 

“We gotta move quick” Bucky murmured, driving slowly behind the target, the dark windows of the SUV making it impossible to see who was inside. As soon as the traffic light turned red, they stopped the truck, swinging the doors open and stepping in front of their mark. 

“Hey! What are you-” 

“Shh, just get in the car” Bucky towered over him, his face stern, cocking an eyebrow at the big eyes that stared up at him. Sam and Steve were by his side with equally stoic expressions, nodding to the open door, their hostage reluctantly getting into the backseat with an annoyed huff. They drove to Bucky’s club, target in tow as they made their way to the office, strange looks exchanged by patrons, looking at Bucky’s latest captive. 

Steve shut the door while Bucky strode across the room to answer a call, breathing a sigh of relief hearing the deal had gone off without a hitch. Nothing had been seized and the deal was set, thanks to his last minute decision. He reached for a crystal decanter, pouring a glass of whiskey for himself when a voice caught his attention. 

“Why am I here” Bucky turned around to face all 4 feet, 2 inches of his hostage, little furrowed brows knitted in the middle, arms crossed with his chest puffed out, a heavy bookbag making his solid stance a little wobbly. “Is this because my mommy wants to put you in jail?” Bucky nearly choked on his whisky while Steve snorted, doing a poor job to mask his laugh. “I can see why. Kidnapping is against the law” 

By this point, both Sam and Steve were nearly on the floor, attempting to keep their stoic expressions on by covering their mouths, covering their laugh with a cough. Bucky raised a brow, not sure if he was insulted or impressed at the sass and lack of fear the 8 year old had. None of them were exactly fans of anything that involved children. It was an unspoken rule; children were always left untouched. He had to break that rule this time though, knowing if things had gone south, it would have led to a gang war which would have been far worse than the stunt he just pulled kidnapping a police offers son. 

Police officer. 

Bucky had most of the justice system and law enforcement at his fingertips, all happily bowing to his bidding, letting his deals and illegal activities slip under the radar. Most were more than happy to comply with what he asked. Most were happy to turn a blind eye. 

Except the departments newest officer. 

The absolute bane of his very existence.

The only person who had actually ever managed to get him arrested though he was quickly released; no one else wanting to get on his bad side by actually pressing charges. 

But you refused to back down.

At first Bucky brushed it off, figuring you’d get with the program and eventually quieten down but no. You were constantly there, making his job more difficult than it had to be, your irritatingly righteous need to keep the city free of gang activity driving him up the wall. 

The last straw was a few weeks ago when he had set up an arms deal with the East side of the city, an exchange of weapons, but more importantly, a possible alliance between groups. Things going successfully would mean more protection for both the North and East and stronger joint front. You had managed to track communication between the groups, readying a team to shut down the exchange, ignoring the warnings you got from the mob boss. 

Bucky was done playing nice. 

It was more than the police just showing up. His power meant everyone listened to him. No one, not even the law disobeyed or strayed from his word. A single officer looking to take him down would have shown weakness; that he didn’t have all the control he should have. Weak links were unacceptable.

Which lead to his plan.

To hold onto your son for awhile so you’d abandon the plan you’d put together, none of your colleagues willing to stop anything on their own, everyone retreating far away from the deal while it took place. 

And it worked. 

He had managed to take your son while he was on his way home from school and you had been informed of his location. Everything else went smoothly; problem solved. Still, nothing prepared him for how unbothered and how at ease his little captive would be. 

“I’m guessing you’re the man mommy calls -” Your son blinked at Bucky, chewing his lips, thinking for a moment before continuing. “She says I can’t use those words. I’m gonna call you Uncle Bucky” He shrugged, plopping onto the chair, grabbing one of Bucky’s fountain pens, proceeding to doodle on a notepad on the desk. 

“You-you can’t-” For the first time in his life Bucky found himself speechless, looking incredulously at the little boy proceed to draw, the mop of dark brown hair on his head, covering his eyes slightly. 

“It’s Mr. Barnes” He muttered, while your son tossed his book bag off to grab a comic book that was inside, drawing a character that was on the cover. 

“It’s Jordan” your son replied, now fully focused on his Batman cartoon. 

“I like this kid” Steve half wheezed while Bucky stared at the little thing in front of him, his lips struggling to stay in a firm line, the corners itching to tug up into a smile. 

“Mommy said you’re a bad man” He piqued, looking at the mob boss from the corner of his eye, “I can’t say you did yourself any favors today Mr. Uncle Bucky” 

Before Steve and Sam could full on belly laugh, your panicked voice carried through the bar, nearing the office. 

“Jordan? Jordan!”  The office doors slammed open to your frantic face, running over to your little one as soon as your eyes landed on him, scooping him in your arms, “Baby, are you okay?”

Bucky felt his heart soften for a moment, watching your heart break and mend itself all at once as soon as you had your son wrapped in your arms again. He shook his head, reminding himself of why he took your son in the first place, ignoring the warmth that was trying to melt his soul. 

“You fu-” You bit your tongue, taking deep breath, keeping in mind there were little ears listening. “How could you?!”

“Had to get a message across doll, you don’t seem to listen” Bucky shrugged while you let out a law growl, hauling your son up and grabbing his school bag, wanting to get him out of there and back home more than anything else. 

“This isn’t over” You shot over your shoulder before leaving the office and exiting the bar. Bucky couldn’t help but smirk slightly, he didn’t like you but he couldn’t help but admire the fiery fearless side of you that never backed down, not even to him. 

“M’sure it isn’t, mama bear” Bucky murmured to himself, inspecting the little doodle your son left behind; an image of Batman and a small Robin. 

Of course you were not able to do anything about the kidnapping; none of the higher ups were willing to put their neck on the line to arrest Bucky and your boss shrugged, giving you a very pointed I told you so look. 

Jordan also seemed unaffected with the whole ordeal, often asking you what Uncle Bucky was up to these days as if he were a colleague from work. Truthfully, you were not even 100% what Bucky had been up to. Things had been suspiciously calm ever since the incident happened and while you were thankful for some peace and quiet, you wondered if he was up to something. 

Nothing was ever quiet with that man. 

Meanwhile you also had other problems to deal with. While work calmed down, your stress was higher than ever looking at the number of missed calls on you phone from Jordan’s father. The very man who decided he wanted nothing to do with either of you the day you found out you were pregnant. The man who promptly kicked you out of the house to fend for yourself. The man who had now decided would be a great time to reenter your sons life and be a stand up father. 

And maybe get some spousal benefits from your job. 

You could never catch a break. 

A few weeks later - Bucky’s office

“You kept this, huh?” Steve picked up the doodle on Bucky’s desk, smiling at the way Bucky’s eyes grew wide before trying to back to his signature frown.  

“Didn’t notice” Bucky lied, though his best friend could see right through him, knowing Bucky didn’t keep just anything on his table, every single item on the desk having a purpose. 

“He kinda reminds me of you” Steve pointed out, thinking back to all the times little Bucky had stood up for him when they were kids, putting on a brave face in front of the meanest. “Kinda looks like you too” 

“Hm” Bucky grunted, wondering himself why he still had the picture. He made a conscious decision not to throw it out; each time he had to write something down, he’d grab a paper below it and carefully put the drawing back on top. Steve was right; Jordan did look like him when he was little and had the same feisty, sassy personality as he did though he was sure the bravery your son had was from you. 

You.

In a strange way, Bucky missed having to deal with your nagging and threats to take him down; business had been quiet so there wasn’t a reason for you to chase after him. You made things interesting; it’s not that he wanted anyone to make his job harder than it had to be but sometimes the challenge was nice. Plus it didn’t hurt that you absolutely gor-

For fucks sake. 

“I need a drink” Bucky shook his head, flicking away the odd feeling he started to feel in his tummy, deciding he needed something stiff over whatever he had stashed in his office. Steve snorted, easily reading his friends thoughts while they made their way to a locked cabinet below the bar counter, fishing for something that would silence unnecessary thoughts. He grabbed a glass, dropping in two ice cubes and filling the glass, taking a long draw of the dark liquid before his attention was pulled elsewhere. 

Bucky’s eyes grew wide seeing the mop of dark hair and big eyes make its way through the crowded bar, customers giving each other strange glances at the little boy with a school bag who had no business being in a gang leaders club.   

“Kid, what are you-

“Mommy’s hurt” Jordan looked up at Bucky with teary eyes, swallowing away the lump that formed in his throat, putting his best brave face on instead, now wasn’t the time to cry. 

“What?”

“She - someone hurt her” 

The thought of someone hurting you sent a surge of anger through Bucky, his jaw clenching as he slammed his glass down. It was ironic, considering the number of times he had wished you would disappear but not like this. Not once had he ever thought of hurting you; at the end of the day, you had always stood for what was right. 

“Where is she” Bucky took Jordan’s hand in his, holding it firmly to ground him while making his way outside and towards the SUV. He didn’t have to even look at Steve to know he was already by his side and sliding into the drivers seat. 

“Home, we live on-”

“I know where you live kid” Bucky chuckled slightly while Steve was already weaving through traffic and pulling up to your street, screeching to a halt in front of your house. 

Bucky helped Jordan hop out of the SUV and lead him to you, the front door left while open with the handle broken off. There were clear signs of a struggle, seeing broken pictures on the floor and a few dents in the walls, the mess continuing all the way up the stairs to your bedroom. Bucky instructed Jordan to wait downstairs with Steve, worried about what condition he was going to find you in. 

You were holding yourself up against the wall, your arm clutching your bloodied side, putting pressure on the gash that sliced you. Your head still throbbing from where you had been hit. You could barely register what was happening, gasping at the sound of Bucky’s voice suddenly in your room. 

“C’mon, doll” His arm snaked around you, pulling you to his, holding up some of your weight. 

“Where are we going” You wanted to fight back but the pain was making you dizzy and spots were starting to cloud your vision. 

“We’re -woah-” Bucky caught you before you slipped, scooping you in his arms, bridal style “We’re going to get you fixed up” He spoke softly, carrying you out of your room and carefully down the stairs towards the SUV. You were in too much pain to protest, slipping in and out of consciousness during the drive over. 

Steve had already slipped Jordan into the front seat, the both of them chatting over who would win in a hotdog eating competition; Superman, Batman or the Joker. He could see Jordan sneak worried glances behind him to look over at you, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack. 

“She’ll be okay” Steve whispered to him, giving him a reassuring smile as he pulled up to the mansion. “Your mama’s strong, y’know she’s the only one Uncle Bucky is scared of” He gave your son a wink before helping him out of the car and opening the door so Bucky could carry you to his room. He carefully set you down on his bed, wasting no time grabbing a first aid kit he kept tucked under the bed for emergencies while you groaned, trying to sit up. 

“Barnes, what are you-”

“Just lie down doll, let me clean this up first” He carefully lifted your blouse to assess how bad the injury was, soaking a cotton ball in some disinfectant.

“Ah!-” You winced, hissing out in pain at the saturated cotton ball Bucky pressed onto your skin, cleaning the area as gently as he could, his focus shifting between getting you better and wondering who did this to you. He’d have to worry about that later. 

“Sorry, sorry” Bucky murmured, gently blowing onto the cleaned area, cooling your skin before grabbing a needle and threat, starting on some sutures to close the gash. “I’ll be quick, just bear with me” You gritted your teeth feeling the needle poke you.

“How-how do you know how to do this” Your voice was strained, struggling to keep it steady while Bucky threaded the needle as gently and quickly as possible, neatly closing off the gash. 

“Gotta know this in my line of work, sugar” He smirked giving you a lopsided grin when you rolled your eyes, squeaking when he gently pushed you back down when you tried to get up. “Rest for a bit” 

You reluctantly laid against the plush mattress looking up at the baby blue eyes softly peering down at you, the same blue eyes your normally wanted to poke out of frustration. 

“I’ll be fine, we can go ho-” You were going to say you could go home but it was clear home wasn’t the safest option, not after what had just happened. 

“C’mon, stay here for the night” He wasn’t exactly going to leave you room to do anything else, there was no way he was going to let you go home after what he had just seen. He was more than happy to sleep in a tent outside of his own home if it meant you’d just stay somewhere safe. “At least for today” 

“I-we can’t-Jordan-” 

“-WOULD LOVE TO STAY HERE” 

Bucky let out a genuine laugh hearing your sons voice carried through the doorway where he was clearly eavesdropping. You snorted, shaking your head and closing your eyes at your sons antics, exhaustion making it hard for you to move anyway. 

“We shouldn’t be here” You whispered, feeling your conscious battle within yourself. You were supposed to be fighting for the right side of the law. Bucky was the opposite of that. Then why didn’t this feel wrong? You’d spent countless hours trying to put him away. So why did you feel so safe? 

“I don’t-

“Just for tonight” Bucky stated softly but firmly, leaving you little room to argue. He grabbed you a tshirt and some joggers of his, letting you clean off and chance while he slipped out of the room. He was met with curious eyes peering up at him, your son patiently waiting to know if you were okay. 

“She’s okay, just getting cleaned up. Let your mama rest” Bucky whispered, leading Jordan to the TV room where Peter was busying himself with video games. “Hey Parker, brought you a worthy opponent” Peter grinned, handing Jordan a controller and shifting over so he could plop down beside him. 

“She’s gonna be okay?” Jordan whispered up at Bucky, feeling a sense of calm around the man his mom usually used no-no words to describe. Surely he couldn’t be that bad? 

“No one’s stronger than your mama” Bucky smiled, ruffling his hair before coming back to check on you. You had slipped back into bed, ignoring the way Bucky’s clothes were soft and comfy to wear, his scent making your insides flutter unnecessarily. 

“Don’t you look cozy, officer” Bucky smirked, sauntering over with a glass of water and pain killers, leaving them on the bedside table for you. You rolled your eyes though gratefully taking 2 tablets for your aching head. 

“Where’s Jordan?” 

“Currently beating everyone’s ass in Mario Kart” 

“This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook Barnes” You tried to keep your voice firm but the playful smirk he was giving you was infectious. You bit your lip to keep your lips from tugging up, choosing to frown more instead but that only seemed to egg him on more. 

“Course, darlin’“ He drawled out, giving you a wink before bidding you good night, “Wouldn’t have it any other way” He turned the light off and gently shut the door, making his way back down to make sure Jordan had something for dinner. 

You pulled the covers up, sighing into the soft plush pillows and sheets, letting sleep take over, ignoring the way your inner conscious continued to debate itself. He didn’t have to help you. Didn’t have to keep you safe. Didn’t have to do any of this and yet here you were. You and your son. Both safe. Because of him. 

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all...

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @perdidosbucky-yyo @clqrosmgc  @buckybarnessweetheart  @pandaxnienke  @manyfandomsfanvergent 

[heelwriting]

Right, darling?

Day/Prompt: Day 5 - "I'll be your date for the party if you don't have one yet"

Fandom/Character(s): NJPW / Wrestling / Zack Sabre Jr x F!Reader

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 785

Summary: Reader is invited to an office christmas party but gets unwanted questions of when she is going to have a family so Zack steps up as her date.

@12daysofchristmas

She had been roommates with Zack since they were in their late 20s, at first it was just an add searching for a roommate but eventually they became really good friends.

Since Zack wrestled all over the world sometimes it was months since they saw each other and she was in charge of paying the bills and feeding the cat, they had a stable friendship but for the most part they didn’t go outside together, they had separate groups of friends and since she wasn’t on the wrestling scene she didn’t want to get involved and Zack was very respectful in that regard.

After working for her office for many years and getting picked on for never bringing a date, she was talking to another friend who was over for dinner one night, Zack was supposed to be on his room but accidentally overheard them.

When her friend left Zack came out to watch a movie with her on the living room.

“Did you have fun?”

He asked.

“Sure, we left you some salad on the fridge if you want it”

“Thanks, I’ll leave it for tomorrow”

Zack started hugging a pillow from the couch, she was watching tv but she suddenly felt his eyes on her.

“I heard you have the annual Christmas party on Friday”

She paused the tv and looked at him while nodding.

“Yeah, I just want to get over with it”

"I'll be your date for the party if you don't have one yet"

“W-what?”

“Yeah, I know how much you hate those and if I can help you get through that night I’ll do it”

She was still too perplexed and trying to understand, he never intervened in that way so she didn’t get his change of heart.

“Are you sure?”

She asked with a confused look on her face that made Zack smile.

“Hey, why are you so surprised?”

“I don’t know, it’s not the kind of thing we do together usually”

She explained.

“Maybe it’s time for a change”

Zack said getting up.

“Just tell me the time we leave and I’ll be ready”

Zack left for his room but she was still weirded out by his offer, she wasn’t complaining but it was uncharacteristic of him to volunteer for a party. While in the other hand, Zack had heard her complaining about the people on her office getting on her nerves about getting married, especially her boss who was happily married and had 3 children.

Zack had a plan for the party but since he knew she wouldn’t like it he had to do it before she had the opportunity to back off.

The week passed by quickly and they finally went to the party, she walked close to Zack but not enough to be touching, she said hi to some of her coworkers, then she had to talk to her boss, she had told Zack to stay back but to her surprise he came after her a few seconds after she greeted her boss.

“And who is this handsome gentleman?”

Her boss asked watching as Zack put an arm around her shoulder.

“Well, he’s my…”

“Her husband, nice to meet you, she’s told me lots of good things about you over the years”

He put his hand out, the woman shook his hand but was very confused because of what he said.

“Ohh I thought you were single?”

Zack immediately intervened.

“Well I’m kind of in the public eye so we keep everything low key”

Zack paused talking to look at her with a warm smile.

“Right, darling?”

“Y-yes! That’s why I couldn’t talk about it”

The woman seemed pleased to hear she was actually married the whole time which as odd but it was better than the nagging she normally did, Zack had actually come to save her and she was grateful even if he didn’t tell her beforehand that he would lie.

“Well I’ll leave you two lovebirds to enjoy the rest of the night, I need to go back to my table, thanks for coming guys”

Her boss finally went away and she finally dropped her smile, she hit Zack in the chest.

“Ouch”

“Why did you do that?”

“I wanted to help”

He shrugged his shoulders, she had a hand over her face.

“You should have told me!”

He just laughed and she hit his arm this time.

“I knew you wouldn’t go with my idea, but see now no one will tell you anything because you have a hot husband”

She laughed with him.

“Thanks for doing this, I really owe you”

“Go get your husband some food and we’ll be even”

He winked at her.

“Right away, my dear”

[melis-writes]

(1/2) Can you do a moth to a flame AU where victoria came into michael’s life too late, after he’d already married kay, and is the “other woman?” something angsty with a lot of sexual tension please, like maybe vic’s conflicted feelings while hooking up with him of “i hope you pretend she’s me and not the other way around” / “i know you f*ck me, michael, but god sometimes i just want you to hold my hand when the lights are on” / “i know im not her but im someone to you…”

This is actually one of my new/upcoming multi-chapter fics I’ll be writing in the near future!! Don’t know as of now if I want it to definitely be like an AU with the Victoria we love and know or with a new lady altogether but I’ll let my readers decide that when the time comes! Keeping it a bit short and sweet not to spoil too much, hehe.

‘I’m the ‘other woman’ in Michael Corleone’s life. I’ve always been and I always will be. I can’t see a real, tangible future with Michael, but I can see myself at his side as his mistress for as long as he’ll want me. I know I’ll always want him more than he can know, and Michael will never just be ‘someone else’ to me, but I can’t change my fate. I’d rather have him than not have him at all…’

The secrecy needed to veil your sexual relationship with Michael Corleone may have been ten times easier if you were someone else instead of the daughter of a Don.

There’d be less of a scandal if it somehow leaked out that Michael Corleone, ruthless mob boss and multi-millionaire businessman had a mistress just as almost every other man in the same or similar position as him did, but if it leaked that Don Ferrari’s daughter was seeing him…you didn’t want to think of what could possibly happen next.

When you let your mind wander to the possible consequences, it’d constantly bring you to tears, but it wasn’t the fact that your reputation would be ruined, your family would be ashamed of you, Michael’s wife and children would find out, and that the media would swarm all over you and Michael for weeks to come, but that you’d never see Michael again. That would be the great punishment of them all.

‘As Michael Corleone’s mistress, the one thing I’ve learned to do well—better than anything I can ever do—is keep everything private, secret, act like nothing’s going on, never be seen, and never put myself in a situation where my identity can be jeopardized.’ Such is the life of most mistresses when it comes to powerful men in the underworld, but with Michael handling how and when he sees you 100% of the time, you have little to worry about in that regard in reality.

Michael knows your family well, sees your father from time to time in New York on business trips which provides him more of an excuse and an easier method of seeing you as well.

Michael’s acquainted with your brothers and does business with them just as he does with your father who is a long time friend of Vito’s since the two men grew up together in Sicily.

Unfortunately time and chance have never been on your side. You met Michael when he was engaged to his college sweetheart, an American woman named Kay Adams who you saw in a few photographs but never in person.

You could tell Michael loved Kay and cared for her very much, even though he didn’t speak of her very often. Michael made it clear he was interested in no other woman—Sicilian or otherwise—and that it would be Kay Adams he would continue his future with inevitably.

‘There was no changing his mind… Nobody could do it.’ You would never dream of being a homewrecker either, but all you could do was miserably watch as the man you were falling more and more in love with was loving another woman right before your eyes.

The only reason you spoke with Michael and saw him for prolonged periods of time was because of your career; as a criminal prosecutor, you were very helpful and useful to Michael when it came to prosecuting his enemies and having them charged no matter how corrupt or bought off the court was.

Simply putting the judges in New York and Nevada in Michael’s payroll wasn’t enough. He would need a lawyer in between, and you matched his needs perfectly.

First it would become a solely professional relationship based on business and legal matters, but knowing one another’s family meant also seeing each other outside of the office or law courts which helped you and Michael get more acquainted with one another on a personal scale.

You didn’t know that it would lead to matching Michael’s needs in a different way, but you would have gladly said “yes” if someone asked you about the possibility of that way back then too.

That was just the thing. You had always been in love with Michael—absolutely head over heels with that man up to the point where your love, adoration and infatuation with him could suffocate you because you had to keep it to yourself and could tell nobody.

Your family had nothing but love, praise and respect for Michael—let alone the Corleone family in general.

Teases and whispers of “if only Victoria married Michael” or “if Victoria had a husband like Michael” were said once word got out that Michael was engaged to somebody, but all of it came down to silence when the wedding invitations were handed out.

You believed in love at first sight, Michael did not. Michael believed in sexual attraction at first sight, and that’s what he thought of when he saw you, but just how he would approach you, what he would want and do didn’t come until after he married Kay.

Naturally, you attended even though you felt there was a hole torn in your heart. What you didn’t know was that Michael had his eye on you from time to time during his wedding and when he left for his honeymoon to Rome with Kay, you hadn’t seen him again for another month.

You thought you kept it inside well and didn’t show a sliver of romantic emotion towards Michael, but Michael could tell from the way your body language responded to his presence alone and the look in your eyes that you were in love with that man and would do just about anything for him and with him.

You wanted Michael in every romantic way possible, daydreamed of being his wife, imagined spending as much time with him as you wanted just to hear his velvety voice, feel the touch of his hand against your cheek like you had been dreaming night after night.

Michael’s absence during his honeymoon and after when he had returned to Long Island and settled in his first home with Kay only made your heart yearn for him more.

Your feelings always intensified and doubled no matter how much time had passed or whatever happened, and your eyes saw the world in black and white with only Michael in colour.

When you heard the news Kay was pregnant with Michael’s first child, you were devastated.

This had only been revealed a week after they returned from their honeymoon and although you knew Michael was sexually involved with his wife, your heart was broken because you wished you could be the one to bear his children and start a family with him instead.

But little did you know throughout your heartache that it was with the birth of Michael’s first child and son Anthony that would change your life forever.

After a month of absence, Michael had continued to see you again for business matters.

He no longer just made appointments to see you at the courthouse but came in whenever he pleased. He wrote to you, he called you both at home and at your office more like he was a friend than anything else.

You couldn’t have even known then that Michael had his own desire and yearning for you either because you could never tell how Michael felt through any means. You could not hide your emotions from Michael, but he could hide them very well from you.

In a way, Michael had made it clear to you how he felt, how he wanted you and how he would show his desire and passion for you accidentally the same year Anthony was born in—1951.

Michael came to the courthouse to see you regarding a legal matter—strictly business purposes, however he did not call ahead or even notify your secretary.

It was past office hours for you but the courthouse remained open until the evening for other legal affairs with lawyers seeing clients and judges continuing to file paperwork just like any other day.

Your secretary had went home, leaving you alone in your office and exhausted after a very long trial that had finally concluded in your favour.

Your office door was shut and you only had a dim desk lamp on to illuminate the spacious room when you had just thrown off your blazer and unbuttoned your dress shirt to finally change out of your work clothes before heading out for the day.

Michael walked straight into the courthouse and towards your office knowing that he could still catch you available at this hour, but he didn’t expect to walk into your office and see you half naked.

Without even knocking, Michael put his hand over the doorknob and you only had a split second to react to the sound of someone opening the door.

The door to your office opened and Michael had almost fully stepped in with the utmost confidence he would find you inside only to gaze upon you stumbled back into the corner of your office in a pair of panties and nothing else.

“Oh!” You gasped out, but your hands froze and all they could do was clutch onto your dress shirt loosely.

Neither your mind nor your body wanted to cover yourself up in front of Michael even though the look on your face spelled shock.

Michael didn’t blink back, turn his head away or step right out and close the door. Instead, Michael stood and stared at you in a way that confirmed his arousal and sexual attraction to you.

Your expression softened as the two of you stared at each other in silence for a few moments right up until Michael closed and locked your office door behind him without taking his gaze off of you.

For the first time in years, you saw Michael’s expression clearly reading out that he liked what he was seeing and it was that coupled with the immense sexual frustration and excitement bursting through you that you wanted to approach him naked and let him keep looking.

The silence between the two of you said more than any words you had exchanged with Michael since you met.

When Michael continued to take steps towards you, you not only felt more aroused but increasingly drawn to him and could only ask yourself repeatedly in your head if you were dreaming.

“Mr. Corleone, I didn’t—” You began, about to almost apologize for being seen in this state in your office but you hadn’t expected him to visit now and at this hour without prior notice.

“Michael,” he corrected you to use his first name and it was the first time in a few days since you’d heard his voice again—now low and husky to keep quiet.

“Michael,” you swallowed hard, finding your grip growing looser over your dress shirt until it fell out of your hand and onto the pile of clothes pooling by your feet. “I…”

Michael was now directly facing you, only a few inches away from your lips with his eyes darting up and down your body like art, letting his own arousal take control of him. “Come here.”

You obeyed him instantly. You took a final step towards Michael and completely closed off the space between the two of you.

Your nipples had hardened from arousal and was just a mere distance from brushing up against Michael’s chest which is exactly what you did when Michael began to take off his suit jacket.

You didn’t question why Michael had come or why he was doing any of this because you wanted it. You craved him, desired him, fantasized about similar scenarios like this for hours on end—how could you stop and question the morals you knew you lost when you moaned against your pillow and fingered yourself imagining it was Michael weekly all those years ago?

“Can I touch you?” Michael asked—his voice soft and breathy as he loosened his tie.

“Please,” you almost begged but you couldn’t take the sexual frustration gnawing inside of you anymore.

When Michael placed his hands over your breasts and gave them a squeeze while looking you in the eye, that was it for you. You gave in completely to him and didn’t hold back on showing Michael how good he made you feel either.

In that moment alone, his hands were all over your body and you had wrapped your arms around him for the first time thinking it would be the last time the two of you would ever do anything like this.

Michael had thrown off his belt, inched down his dress trousers and briefs and before you knew it, you let him pull your panties to the side, and wrapped your thighs around his waist.

Michael pinned you against your office wall next to the bookshelf and despite his erect cock throbbing and twitching to be inside of you, he didn’t penetrate you just yet.

Although even doing this, then stopping and leaving would be more than a dream come true to you, the only thing that had disappointed and embarrassed you was that Michael didn’t lean in closer to kiss your lips when you thought he would.

Instead, Michael kissed up and down your neck while he let his thumbs toy with your nipples. His kisses grew more demanding and wet around your jawline and collarbones but Michael absolutely refused to kiss your lips.

You became distracted almost instantly with the teasing and foreplay, and once Michael had you squirming against his body when his forefingers rubbed against your wet clit, it was then that he knew you were turned on and ready for him.

You locked eyes with Michael when he penetrated you for the first time. Shaky, loud moans escaped your lips feeling every inch of his thick, hard cock continue to go deeper inside of you.

Even up against the cold wall, Michael gave you the best sex of your life and never stopped continuing to stimulate your clit and nipples while he fucked you.

Michael wasn’t very tender but not rough either; instead, Michael and you were fucking the pent up frustration out of each other for the first time, still testing the waters.

You thought to yourself when you came over Michael’s cock for the first time that Michael surely must know he could possibly get you pregnant now but when you looked down to see how his cock was slicking in and out of your pussy, you also knew he must not have cared.

Michael didn’t cum in you, however, but pulled out and left his hot, sticky seed spew over your stomach and breasts.

Perhaps the silence that followed both of your orgasms marking the end of the sexual encounter was much worse than the first when Michael walked in on you naked.

As vivid as the memory is to you, you could only remember Michael breathing against your neck and saying, “I want to see you again and again”. You knew what that meant just as anyone else would.

‘He wanted me to be his mistress and how could I ever say no? There wasn’t a fibre of my being that wanted to say no and I wouldn’t have said no if he asked me before he had sex with me either…’

Without conducting business like he originally planned to that day, Michael left after the two of you dressed and he told you to expect a phone call “soon”.

Anxiety and overthinking were your best friend from the moment Michael finished saying the word “soon” and didn’t end until you got a phone call to your office three days later at work.

Michael laid the ground rules then for what he wanted, how he wanted, and when he wanted you.

“I’ll be the one making the rules and deciding where we go from here—understood?”

Michael made it clear to you that he was first a father to Anthony and a husband to Kay. This would never change. Not for you, not for anyone.

“Kay just gave birth to our first child, Anthony. I’m a father now, as you know and that affects what I do and where I can go. Time spent with my son and my wife comes first. This will not change.”

Michael would be the one who would plan to see you and you’d known forty-eight hours in advance whether it was at your office, at one of his penthouses in New York, a hotel or a resort. Michael would get you accommodation to get there secretly with a fake name and seen by nobody to the best of his ability.

“I’ll get you to where you need to be but you won’t see me until you arrive at our meeting spot. No eyes will follow you and nobody else will know where you’re going for how long and with who. Nobody will see us together side by side, even if they’re strangers.”

The only thing Michael told you next that made you cry after you hung up was that this was solely sexual. Michael had no romantic feelings for you and he wasn’t planning on ever fostering such either.

“I’m in love with my wife, Victoria. I love Kay very much and she’s the only woman I can love and be with. What you and I have will only be sexual. It can never get romantic and it won’t, so don’t expect anything further than what we agreed to…”

Maybe Michael would never see you in a romantic light but you would and always had. You’d still be madly in love with him no matter what and you were also convinced you did love Michael more than Kay ever could.

There was also no timeframe to how long this sexual relationship would last, but Michael made your heart skip a beat when he clarified why he wanted you that had little to do with your first surprise encounter at your office.

“When I say what we have is over, then it ends immediately. I’m not limiting myself to a timeframe… I want to have you until I possibly can’t anymore, and I presume you’re thinking the same. Victoria… I love Kay but she isn’t you and she can’t be. I want nothing from her in bed but to bear my children. I pleasure her but I don’t gain much pleasure for myself. I have no fire and excitement in my sex life with her, but I do for you—that’s why I want you.”

Even when Kay became pregnant again with her and Michael’s second child and Michael made the move to Nevada, he had you relocate with him and secured you the same position at the Reno courthouse.

Michael bought an estate for you under his name. He brought in your vehicle from New York and because a talent like yours did not excuse within law and the crime families, there was zero suspicion from either Michael or your family as to why you relocated.

Everyone saw it as strictly business with plenty of opportunity and prosperity for both the Corleone and Ferrari families alike.

Only when you made the move to Reno did you meet Kay and Anthony, and although Michael’s wife was sweet and welcoming to you and utterly clueless her husband was fucking the life out of you three to five times a week, you still didn’t regret what you were doing nor did you pity Kay.

“I hope you pretend Kay’s me and not the other way around.” You whispered as Michael hovered over top of your naked body.

“I do,” Michael murmured against your skin and kissed between your breasts. “I think of fucking you whenever I bed her…”

You could say “if only she knew” to yourself through laughter, not on a serious note because you disregarded Kay’s marriage with Michael entirely.

You weren’t even aware of it, but the fire and heated intimacy Michael brought to his and your sex life gave you confidence like that.

The only conflict you felt in you conscience and heart was that you could not have Michael in the romantic and family sense that Kay did, which would slowly began to eat you alive as the years went on.

In the very beginning when you first felt your heart aching and beating for Michael only, you knew the only remedy to this kind of forbidden, one-sided love would be to stay far away from Michael and forget him.

You’d have to stop seeing him, speaking with him, and even corresponding with his family. You’d have no idea how to go about this or explain it to your family, but it would most definitely come at the cost of many excuses and lies to anyone who’d ask.

Instead, you didn’t. You let yourself get closer to him even though you knew it would amount to nothing, just like a moth to a flame.

Five years of being his mistress did not pass without a toll and many tears of course, and you no longer held back how you felt about Michael—still having not been able to kiss him once

“I only want you,” you hiccupped throughout your tears, “I can’t love another man but you.”

Michael stared at you coldly, shook his head and gave out a little sigh.

He believed it would have been impossible for you to fall in love with him and want more when he had explicitly told you none of it could ever happen, so all Michael could do was disregard your feelings, have sex with you, disregard your feelings again.

Michael may have taken you all around the country, fucked you in the most luxurious hotels, resorts and private yachts treating you like a princess and pampering you without affection and romantic love, it was never truly enough for how you really felt and wanted Michael.

“I know we fuck, Michael, but God… Sometimes I just wish you’d hold my hand when the lights are on. When we’re not in bed.” You had no idea how you managed to tell Michael this without breaking down into tears.

“We talked about this, Victoria.” Michael had told you when he was redressing as you lay naked in bed, holding the bedsheets up to your chest. “There are things I won’t do to you that are only reserved for my wife. That won’t change and I won’t speak of this matter again because I don’t want to hurt you.”

In five years time, Michael never once kissed your lips and the only time he held your hand was when Michael laced both with yours against the bed when he was fucking you—never romantically.

You would never feel or taste real affection from him—that was reserved solely for Kay and although you knew Michael had rough, wild, kinky and intensely amazing sex with you and not Kay, it still tore you to shreds knowing you couldn’t have it all.

“I know.” You swallowed down the lump in your throat, sitting up in bed as Michael faced you almost full dressed. “I’m not Kay… I know that But I’m someone to you, aren’t I?”

“Of course.” Michael answered you. “You’re my mistress. You’re the other woman.”

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

✏, hotchreid, first kiss 🥺

You don’t just get a blurb honey, you get the whole damn night. I’ll eventually start writing blurbs and not full-length oneshots for these asks, but Cee (my love my family my favorite always) is who got me back into CM in the first place so yours was always going to be the long, fleshed out version. I love you so my dear. 

((P.S. Yes I’m still working on the 200follower asks xD I’m so sorry life got in the way and I discovered hcs but I’m being responsible and finishing all of these now I promise!!!))

Personal plot bunny: Hotch invites Reid over to help with a research paper/with Jack and Reid gets to see his boss all domestic and soft, and in turn Spencer just kind of fits in his home seamlessly and Hotch kisses him as he leaves.

Word Count: 3107

--

It’s a perfectly ordinary day in late November when Hotch opens his apartment door to Reid standing there in the clothes he’d worn to work earlier that day. Satchel over his shoulder, wrapped in jacket and scarf, and giving him a small quirk of a smile in greeting -- still very obviously thrown off kilter that Hotch had invited him over in the first place. 

When Reid said he’d lend him a hand on his most recent research paper, the younger agent had probably expected them to do it at the office. Interviews and research were all a big part of having a Behavioral Science subunit at the FBI, and published papers were a requirement from all BAU members to aid in this endeavor. Every team had to keep a steady output of resources and research studies going just to keep funding for the department afloat. He may be Unit Chief, but Hotch was no exception to these requirements, even with as much work as he has to put in on the regular. 

Usually, he can do his research and piece together papers in between his daily paperwork. But this week Jess is sick with a stomach flu, and Jack hadn’t gotten to spend time with Hotch in what feels like a month. So the easiest solution was obviously to invite Reid to have dinner with them at his home, entertain him while he read over the drafted paper and helped Hotch out. 

Obviously. 

The only reasonable option, really. 

“Thanks for coming, Reid,” Hotch greets back with a softened expression as he looks him up and down. “Did you even go home first?” The very first thing Hotch always does is change out of his suit when he gets home, shedding that armour as best he can to switch mindsets between Agent Hotchner of the FBI, and Aaron Hotchner the ever-stressed-out single dad. That evening donning worn jeans and a heather grey Henley to better accommodate himself within the space. 

“Oh -- no, I didn’t see much point,” Reid shrugs, then motioning to his satchel which is now filled with books that weren’t there when he’d left the bull pen a couple hours before. “I stopped by the law library in Georgetown and found a few more references, just in case you were using the Favero citations instead of Weston and I don’t have all of those read yet -- or I didn’t. I do now. But I still brought them--”

Hotch smiles, a real smile -- small as it is, but no less fond of Reid going out of his way to help him. But before he can thank him again Jack’s socked feet come thundering down the hall behind him. 

“Dr. Spencer! Dr. Spencer! Dr. Spencer!” And he’s slipping past Hotch, smooth and fluid as water, attaching himself to Reid’s legs and waist in a hug with a big smile that looks so much like Aaron’s own. When he’d been younger, only about three or four years old, Jack had been deathly scared of Doctor’s visits. It had been Reid’s idea to have Jack start calling him ‘Dr. Spencer’ to help alleviate some of that fear, associating the moniker with his non-threatening and familiar face. Reid had been much younger then, too, and that had helped the tactic work like a charm. Haley had been over the moon when his reverse psychology worked out so well. 

“Jack! Woah, you got taller!” Reid’s whole demeanor changes. A little more animated, more comfortable, even -- and Hotch could remember a time when Reid hadn’t even wanted to hold a child for fear of the interaction. Now, he was always the first to talk to one if JJ didn’t beat him to it. “How’ve you been?” “Good!” Jack says excitedly, barreling over the small talk in ways only children can. “Dad says you’re going to help him with his homework, can you help me with mine too?!”

Reid smiles even wider and chances a glance at Hotch that he feels in his chest. “You bet, I love helping with homework.”

Jack just scrunches his nose up at him. “Why?”

“Because it’s fun.”

“Homework isn’t fun.”

“Well, maybe you’ve been doing it wrong.” 

“Let’s let Dr. Reid in from the hallway,” Hotch interrupts with a laugh, herding his son and the younger agent inside. “Jack, go get your homework and you can do it at the table,” Hotch says as he takes Reid’s coat and watches him kick off his shoes by the door. Mismatched socks prominent against the hardwood floors. Making himself at home, shedding some of the layers and getting comfortable in the space much like Aaron does every day after work. “Hope you like spaghetti. It won’t be as good as Rossi’s.”

“Who doesn’t love spaghetti,” Spencer grins with a soft laugh. “Rossi’s is almost too fancy for me, anyway.”

“A man of simple tastes,” Hotch teases him.

“I’m easily impressed.”

“Lucky me.” 

It slips out, the low, comfortable banter, and Reid’s eyes are alight and Aaron feels himself smiling enough his dimples show, and he leads the way to the kitchen where dinner is already in the works on the stove. Filling the small condo with the smell of tomato sauce and garlic. 

-

Jack and Reid set up at the kitchen bartop where they can watch Hotch finish cooking and stay within reach of conversation. It doesn’t take long for Hotch to finish making dinner, or for Jack to finish his homework spurred on by Reid’s strange enthusiasm for math problems. With how much time they spend talking about psychology and sociology (and sometimes even philosophy) Hotch always forgets one of Reid’s Ph.D.’s is in mathematics. 

“Numbers just make sense,” he explains, when Hotch brings it up while drizzling olive oil on the drained pasta on the stove. “There’s always a right answer and the rest are wrong. It’s comforting, to an extent, but predictable -- that’s why I shifted focus from sciences to humanities. There’s no right or wrong answers in philosophy, it’s all argumentative. Always evolving. I prefer that, it’s no fun having all the answers.” 

And coming from someone who does always have all the right answers, that must mean something profound to the younger man. One conversation outside the walls of the BAU and Hotch already feels like he understands Reid more than he has in a long time.

--

Dinner runs so smoothly it’s as if Reid is always there for it. Jack even finishes all of his food and helps with the dishes before Hotch has to ask him to. Making the two men exchange a glance and Hotch ask, “You charge by the hour?” and Reid laughs into his water glass in reply. They end up talking a bit about the paper Hotch has been working on, along with about a dozen other things Reid launches into in side tangents -- from the books he’d read during his brief visit to Georgetown that afternoon, to his most recent philosophical debate he had with his doctoral advisor about his thesis paper he’ll have to submit at the end of next month. 

“Do you need time to piece it together? I didn’t know you were that close to your next Ph.D.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Reid waves him off. “I just need a weekend where we are actually in town and not on a case, and I’ll get it finished.” 

“I’ve been working on this paper for the past six months,” Hotch all but balks in disbelief. “How can you write a Ph.D. dissertation in a weekend?”

“Well, I’m not the Unit Chief or a single parent,” Reid points out with a gentle grin, and Hotch feels one pulling at his own lips as well. “But it’s mostly written anyway, just all up here.” He points to his head, and Hotch bets he could recite the paper verbatim with what he writes up when he has the time.

“You could always write it on the jet,” Hotch says. 

“I do,” Reid smirks, and Hotch can’t help but roll his eyes. “In my head, someone is usually taking up the table with a headstart on paperwork.”

“I think they can be talked into relinquishing some table top space,” Hotch says, until Reid gives him a look. “Oh, you mean me?”

“You spread out everything to keep it organized in piles.” 

“I’d share with you.”

“You told Rossi to use the couch last week when he wanted to answer emails,” Reid says with a barely contained laugh.

“Yeah, well, he’s not you,” Hotch admits before he can take it back, and Reid almost answers -- mouth open and everything -- when Jack comes back and is all but begging ‘Dr. Spencer’ to help him with his science fair project he hadn’t even decided on. 

--

The rest of the evening ends up with the three holed up in Hotch’s office, Reid surrounded by Law books and reading material he hasn’t gotten to sift through before, Hotch with his drafted paper printed out for Reid’s ease of access, and Jack with his science textbook and a notebook already talking Reid’s ear off about a science project for the spring. 

But once the time starts to tip into the later hours of the night, Hotch tells Jack to get ready for bed and say goodnight to Dr. Reid. 

“Goodnight, Dr. Spencer. Thanks for your help,” Jack says politely, ingrained in him by his father and Reid smiles a little too bright and soft at the same time at how sweet it is he tries to be good for company.

“You know, Jack, you can just call me Spencer if you’d like,” he says, knowing that the older boy has already outgrown his fear of the doctor and the reverse psychology is no longer needed.

Jack looks a little confused for a moment. “Dad doesn’t.” 

“Well, your dad can, too -- if he wants,” Reid says, looking to Hotch and they share a look he once again can feel in his chest. Watching the whole interaction with a carefully guarded expression, but it melts under Reid’s glance and he isn’t quite sure what is there anymore. But whatever it is, it makes Reid smile softly at him.

“Okay, goodnight Spencer,” Jack interrupts their moment, and hugs Reid around the neck from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. It jostles the younger man, and Hotch smiles wide and ducks his head down to hide it. But Reid hugs Hotch’s son back, and tells him goodnight, as well. “You’ll come back, right?”

“Of course, I’d love to,” Reid tells him, and -- satisfied -- Jack goes off to brush his teeth, leaving the two in a lull of heavy silence. “Sorry, I think I just invited myself over, some time.”

“You’re welcome anytime.” And he means that, knows Reid knows that as he looks at him a little more soundly than before. “Not just for work.” If that needed to be said. 

And if Reid’s face flushes a little darker in the low lighting, Hotch doesn’t mention. No matter how much he can’t seem to look away.

Reid looks over his entire paper while Hotch tucks Jack into bed, and is already making notes on it at his desk when the man returns. The next hour rolls into two, and Hotch drags another chair in from the kitchen so they can share his desk and work through bullet points on the paper but… it was pretty much done, from the start. Even Reid’s edits didn’t take them long. After a while they dissolve into just talking, discussions and anecdotes and sitting maybe a little too close and laughing so much and so loud sometimes they have to quiet themselves so they don’t wake Jack down the hall. 

It’s almost 10:30 by the time they resurface from each other, before Hotch realizes Reid probably needs to go home because they both have to be at work bright and early. But this was… this was the best night he’s had in a long, long time, and he wants to do it again. Soon. More than soon. More than once. He thinks about all of this as he follows Reid to the front door and helps him gather the rest of his things. 

“We should do this again, sometime,” Hotch mentions, hands in his pockets and trying to be more cool about this than he feels.

“I’d like that, I had a lot of fun tonight,” Reid answers, standing up from tying his shoes and giving him that bright, wide smile he doesn’t always feel comfortable enough to allow. It never fails to stall Hotch in his tracks, staring a little too long at his mouth than he should be. 

“What if, next time, it’s just us? And no Jack?” he continues, elaboration just in case Reid doesn’t grasp what he’s asking. Reid is watching him with this look as if he’s unsure he heard correctly, and Hotch is nothing if not patient.

“I’d… I’d be okay with that,” Reid answers, slowly as he weighs some unseen options and gauges Hotch’s facial expressions to the most minute detail.

“Good. How about Saturday?”

He can see the moment it all clicks into place.

“...Are you asking me on a date?” Reid asks, a little winded. 

“If that’s alright with you,” Hotch says with a half smile. Once again sounding more confident than he should in the face of how Reid’s eyes start to dart around and he licks his lips nervously.

“I don’t know how -- how good I am with dates.” There’s a story behind that, and Hotch wants to know it, but he does his best to press Reid gently. Because… he’s been holding off asking the younger man for a long time, now, but after tonight he gets the feeling that he might not have needed to be so hesitant, after all. 

“Oh?”

“Just -- the ritual of it all always throws me off. Dressing up and going out, and making conversation over dinner while trying to eat and maintain the other’s attention, and then keeping it all going if you manage to do that I just don’t always do so well one-on-one and --”

“Reid.” He pauses, then -- “Spencer.” And that stalls his stream of thought to words, catching Spencer’s attention and snagging it in the best way. “...we just did all of that. And it was great.” Hotch knows his own expression has softened around the edges over the course of the night, smiles easier to hold, eyes more expressive, and Spencer takes in every change and nuance with a well-practice eye and is… very obviously stunned by what he finds. “So -- I’d like to do it again. Saturday?” 

Shocked, eyes a little wide, breath lost to the wind, Spencer waits a beat too long to answer. Enough to make Hotch nervous, before he answers in a sound that could have been a whisper if it had been quieter. A slight crack to it that betrays his emotion.

“Okay.” 

Hotch gets a turn to be stunned, because he thought this had been about to take a very different turn. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“--Okay.”

Intelligent men that they were, that was the extent of the conversation, and then Reid is smiling that bright, sunshine laced smile and Hotch is trying to contain his own and -- Reid still needs to go home. So, biting his lip, Reid turns as if to leave -- is just about out the door when he stops and turns back so quick he almost runs into Hotch on the threshold. 

“So… technically, that means this was our first date, then. Right?” he looks so goddamn hopeful, and like he has something further to add, that Hotch smiles outright and this time doesn’t bother hiding it.

“Technically, yes.” He supposes it was. And it really had been… a great night. Not a bad first date, at all.

Reid takes far too long trying to string together words after that. Keeps looking to Hotch then away to gather his thoughts, then back again as if in search of something; and it’s after about the third time that Hotch realizes what he’s getting at. What he’s trying to find a way to ask. 

It hits him so silent and hard it about knocks the wind out of him.

Oh.

He can do that.

Hotch steps closer, about the same time Spencer opens his mouth like he’s finally figured out the right combination of words within the range of the English language to form a coherent sentence, and they all die on his tongue the moment Hotch guides him back with a hand on his hip. He’s done it before, gentle leading when Reid strays the wrong way or needs to be shifted in a crowded room on cases, and this time is just as easy and no different.

Except this time, Hotch isn’t maneuvering them to get past him. This time, he presses Spencer’s spine to the doorframe and leans in to capture his lips with his own. Right there, in the open doorway.

Hotch kisses him, and it’s perfect.

The gentle slide of lips is over before either know it, lasts longer than his racing heart can measure, and before Hotch can decide his next move Spencer tilts in closer and kisses him back, slow and methodical and Hotch feels that. Feels it the way he’s felt every moment they had and shared the whole night. His free hand finds that sharp jaw framed in messy curls getting longer all over again, and Spencer doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands beyond grasp at Hotch’s shirt at his sides and then -- 

Then Hotch pulls back enough that he can nudge his nose against Spencer’s carefully, a punctuation that ends the kiss soft and apologetic. Silently says that’s all they can do tonight. That there’s more, awaiting them, but that… 

That had been one hell of a good first kiss.

“See you in the morning, Spencer.” 

For once, Dr. Spencer Reid is speechless in an entirely new way, and he merely nods with lips still parted and a little darker from the kiss. From kissing him, and Hotch knows he stares more than he should, but that’s been a frequent occurrence lately. It’s just getting harder and harder to turn away, watch Reid -- Spencer -- smile at him in that quiet way only ever directed at him, and then walk away. But he lets it happen, feels every step even as he shuts the door behind him.

Because Hotch will see Spencer tomorrow.

And, one day, maybe he won’t have to watch him walk away at all. 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

plastic smile

Pairings - dark Charles Blackwood x Reader

Word Count - over 4.7k

warnings - oral (f and m receiving), major character manipulation

A/N - huge thanks to @buckyownsmylife @bestofbucky and @supremethunda for beta reading this. Thanks also to @eurynome827 for helping me to choose the gif. The poem in this is by Vinicius de Moraes and might be one of the most beautiful things I've read. As usual this is 18+ only so please don’t interact if you are a minor

It had been a long day at the diner and you only started two hours ago, your usuals were the only thing getting you through it. You lived in a small town where everyone knew everyone so when the red sports car arrived that morning it’s all anyone could talk about.

Charles Blackwood walked into the diner and sat at the counter like he owned the place, his aura was the kind that everyone was drawn to; he was domineering and confident but friendly. You turned his coffee cup over and filled it up with the dark liquid. “Can I get you anything to eat today?” Smiling at him as he looks over the menu, you observe his features; strong jawline, soft curly hair, thick pouty lips and large uncalloused hands.

It takes you a moment to realise he’s asking you for pancakes, you blush and smile sweetly writing his order down and passing it back to the kitchen. Earl, one of your favourite regulars, asks for a refill, beckoning you over. “You be careful with him, don’t go getting any thoughts. He’s a Blackwood,” he tells you in warning.

The Blackwoods were almost an urban myth in the town, you only ever saw Merricat once a week and never her sister since the ‘incident’. The whole town was terrified of them, people always fear what they don’t understand. You however, thought they must be lonely and always tried to make an effort to speak to Merricat when she came in for her drink. Sure, she was a little odd but she was always polite and never forgot to thank you before she left, you always thought some of your other customers could learn a thing or two from her.

Passing Charles his pancakes, you catch your breath when he looks up at you with those big, blue eyes of his and smiles at you, grabbing your hand to ask you to stay. You stood chatting while the diner was emptying, feeling butterflies at how attentive he was, he asked you so many questions about yourself and actually listened to the answers. After finishing his third cup he pays, leaving you a hefty tip, and winks saying he’ll see you again tomorrow.

Watching him drive past in his flashy car, you can’t help but wonder why on earth he spent so much time getting to know you, you come from very different worlds. Wiping the countertop down and finishing up, you grab your bag and shout through to the kitchen, letting them know they’ll see you tomorrow.

Everyone around town seems to be talking about the Blackwoods today, you go to the library and hear Mrs Conners talking on the phone with goodness knows who about how Charles has come back, you then go to the park to sit and read when you hear two mothers gossiping while their children run around. You can’t understand the fuss but nothing ever happens in this tiny town, people talked for weeks when poor Sarah got flipped off her horse and broke her leg.

The next morning went the same as usual, you filled coffee cups, brought eggs and wiped down tables, that was until Charles came back and sat down in the same seat as the day before. He smiled at you and you held your fingers up to let him know you’d be right there, he grabbed a newspaper and read patiently refusing a drink from Barbara while he waited for you.

You flipped his cup round and poured him a coffee. “You know she has the same coffee as me,” you teased him, passing him the sugar and pulling your notepad out to take his order.

“Yeah but yours is so much sweeter,” he says, pushing the white crystals away and taking a sip of the bitter drink.

You try not to smile at the strange compliment but fail quite spectacularly when your mouth practically splits your face in half. “I’ll go and order your breakfast Mr Blackwood”.

Turning to add his ticket to the wheel. “It’s Charles.” You look back at him curiously.

“I’m sorry what was that?” You walk back over to him.

“You can call me Charles darling, Mr Blackwood is too formal. That’s my fathers name so please call me Charles.” He stares at you as though he’s staring through your soul, you lean forward and flip the paper over, grabbing your pen and passing it to him.

“I’m stuck on 10 down.” Pointing at the half finished crossword puzzle.

The diner has emptied again and you’re sitting laughing with Charles while you wait for the lunch crowd to show up, he is cute and funny, nothing like the other guys in town, the butterflies never really go away when he’s around you.

After your lunch shift, you grab your book so you can go and read in the park again when you see him across the street, leaning against the car. “Wanna go for a drive?” He opens the passenger door and gestures for you to take a seat, you don’t even think about it before skipping over and climbing in.

“So darling, tell me where you want to go,” he asks, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it. You almost melt into the seat, not able to speak for a moment before clearing your throat and pointing him in the direction of the beach on the outskirts of town. You talk for hours, you tell him about how your parents both died a few years ago, how you’re trying to save up enough money to move to the city and how you’re trying to write a book.

He’s such a good listener, you feel like you’ve talked for hours about yourself, which is refreshing because usually you’re the one people talk to. You could charge an hourly rate in that diner, listening to people’s troubles. He smiles that big beautiful smile at you and leans in to kiss you, it’s soft but demanding, grabbing the back of your head to deepen it, you moan into his mouth as he pushes his tongue in and strokes the top of your mouth.

Pulling back and rubbing his nose against yours, he looks down at you. “You’re so beautiful, I could just keep you forever.” Blushing at the cute compliment, you hide your face in the crook of his neck. He gives you a moment before tipping your chin up with two fingers and staring into your eyes. “I can’t believe one little compliment makes you so shy, you should be told everyday how precious you are my little dove.”

Dropping you back off at the diner for your evening shift, he waits for you to get through the door before waving goodbye and driving away. You float around on cloud nine for the whole shift and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by your boss, who has watched everything from the moment Charles first walked into the diner.

Calling you into his office, he asks you to take a seat. “Look, your private life is none of my business but please just be careful with him, he’s not what he seems. The whole Blackwood family is bad news.” You nod and smile at the elderly man who has always looked after you since your parents passed away. You respect him but he doesn’t know Charles very well, if everyone took the time to understand him better they’d see what a sweet person he was.

The end of your shift comes quickly and once again he waits across the street, leaning against his car and smiling at you. “Need a ride home?” You walk across to him and throw your arms around his neck. “Oh, someone is happy to see me,” he chuckles and kisses the top of your head.

Directing him to your house, he drives with one arm wrapped around your shoulder, running his fingers over your neck gently, setting your whole body on fire. Such a soft, gentle touch and you’re already absolutely desperate for him. Pulling up to the front of your little cottage, he switches the engine off and pulls your face up for another deep, soul clenching kiss. Leaning back you look at him bashfully. “Would you like to come in for a coffee?” He nods and kisses your forehead softly before telling you to stay put, running around the side of the car, he opens the door and holds out his hand to help you out.

You show him around before going to the kitchen and making coffee, taking out your best mugs, most of your kitchen stuff comes from the diner, and grabbing some snacks. You’re just leaning up to pick something out of the cabinet when you feel him pressed up against your back, he grabs the packet you were reaching for and sets it down on the counter. “It’s almost like I’m made to be here, looking after my little dove,” he whispers in your ear before planting soft kisses down your neck.

You breathe out softly as he takes his time finding all of your sensitive spots before turning you and holding your head in his big hands and desperately kissing you. Grabbing your ass, he picks you up and sits you on the counter. “Can I touch you?” He smiles as you nod quickly, moving your skirt up slowly, teasing you. You’re practically begging him by the time he pulls your ruined underwear down, he looks at them and sniffs the wet patch smirking at your embarrassment. “Looks like someone is needy”.

Shutting your eyes, you’ve never felt so absolutely mortified before, but he grabs your chin. “Look at me.” You slowly stare at his face as he grabs your hand and puts it on his hard cock. “Don’t be embarrassed, I want you just as much.” Holding your panties up he smirks. “These are mine now though.” Pushing them into his back pocket he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and kisses around your thighs, tracing a line closer and closer to your wet folds.

You’ve read about this before but no man has ever done it to you and you’d never ask. His tongue is so firm and warm, he knows exactly what to do with it and you feel a new sensation slowly building inside you. He sucks on your clit and pushes what feels like two fingers into your tight wet hole, angling them up, setting your whole body on fire. You moan out loud and grab his thick hair, holding him right in place as you explode, moaning out his name, your voice echoing around your small kitchen.

Pulling your skirt back down to cover you up, he licks his lips and sucks his fingers clean while you catch your breath. “I’ve never tasted anything better before.” Your cheeks warm up again and are about to look away when he softly grabs your face, running his thumb over your lips and jawline. “You are so precious, don’t let anyone tell you any different. I’m going to go now, you need some sleep. I’ll come by in the morning and drive you to work”. You see him out and get cleaned up, pulling the blankets up, you don’t need to read to help yourself fall asleep tonight. You still feel like you’re floating.

You and Charles have been inseparable for the last month, he pretty much lived at your place so you could see more of each other. Every morning he’d wake you up with gentle kisses and touches that set your body on fire, he was so attentive driving you to work and taking your books back to the library when they were due, sitting in the diner doing the crossword puzzle while you work.

It was the best month of your life, so that weekend, when he got down on one knee to propose, you didn’t hesitate in saying yes, sliding his grandma's ring onto your finger, you made love that night and he made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

The next day, you wake up and see a white dress hanging from your wardrobe door, confused you go downstairs to find Charles and see him preparing breakfast for you. Eggs, coffee, orange juice and a flower in a glass just for you, walking up behind him you wrap your arms around his waist and kiss the freckle between his shoulder blades. “Is all this for me?” He turns around in your arms and kisses the top of your head.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up yet, I wanted to surprise my beautiful fiancé.” You kiss his lips and smile running back up the stairs and jumping into bed.

Following you up a few minutes later, he places the tray over your lap. “I have a proposal for you”. You slowly drink the bitter coffee and try not to let your disgust show on your face, he’s clearly never made coffee before but somehow that makes him even cuter to you, now you get to look after him forever.

“Let's go down to the courthouse and get married today, I don’t want to wait another minute to make you mine forever.” It was too soon, you know that, but the look on his face was so cute, you didn't want to hurt his feelings so you agreed, almost crying at the look of happiness on his face. “I found this dress in your closet, it's perfect, you’ll look like my own personal angel.” That was it, that's all it took, your own personal kaleidoscope of butterflies flew around your body. You were so happy you could almost cry.

After breakfast and a little bit of fun, he ran out to get a haircut and grab a few things for the ceremony. You got dressed and pinned your hair up in a simple style. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you felt sad that you didn’t have any family to be with you, you didn’t really have any friends either but you did have Charles and honestly that's all you wanted. Writing down a poem you wanted to say to him after your vows, you tucked it into the hidden pocket on the side of your dress and smiled when you heard the car pull up.

Charles walked in and looked at you like you hung the stars in your soft cotton dress, he passed a small hand tied bouquet of pink roses to you, smiling at how happy you were. “I got us an appointment with the judge, can you be ready in 15 minutes?” You looked in the mirror and nodded, picking up a lipstick to match your bouquet, you swiped it on and went to find your future husband.

An hour later you had said your vows, Charles was smiling so wide when you recited yours, squeezing your hand when you said honour and obey. The judge looked at you and you pulled out the poem, dropping Charles’ hands for a moment before you began;

I know that I’ll love you

My whole life through, I know that I’ll love you

At every farewell I will love you

With desperation I know I’ll love you.

And every verse i write will be my chance to say

I know that i'll love, love you my whole life through.

I know I’m going to cry,

Whenever you’re not here I’m going to cry.

But each time you return will make up for

The loss I felt when you weren’t at my side.

I know I’ll have to bear

A never ending feeling of despair

While waiting for this chance to be with you,

With you my whole life through

A tear rolled down your cheek and Charles wiped it away with his thumb. The judge pronounced you husband and wife and you kissed, his tongue softly caressing yours before he rubbed his nose across yours, your own secret love language.

Climbing into his car, Charles looks over at you smiling. “Shall we go to the diner now so you can quit?” Turning your whole body to look at him, he smiles that big grin that makes you melt. “I’m your husband now, I’ll take care of everything and you will take care of me and our children. I can't wait until you’re swollen with our children,” he says while rubbing your stomach. “You want that, don’t you my little dove? You want to honour and obey me.” Nodding, you turn back and look out the window at the passing scenery.

He stops outside the diner. “You’ve got ten minutes to grab your shit, don’t take all day.” Your stomach drops at the tone in his voice, you can’t think of what you’ve done to upset him but you want your happy and loving Charles back. Gathering your things, your boss tells you he’ll always have a space for you and not to be a stranger, he watches as you cross the street and climb into the car.

You slide up to him like you usually do but he pushes you away. “I’m driving, sit over there” the rejection stings but it makes sense he needs to be safe especially when driving. You sit and play with the roses he got you earlier, sniffing them and smiling at the sweet gesture, in no time at all you’re back at the cottage and he storms off into the house without even waiting for you. Your stomach drops, you must have upset him but you can’t think how or when, you walk into your house and call out for him wanting to apologise and fix whatever happened.

He’s in the bedroom sitting on the bed waiting for you “hey there little dove, come over here, it’s our wedding night don’t you want to make your husband happy?” Nodding you walk over to him and move to kiss him but he pushes you back and opens his legs “kneel down for me” pushing your shoulder down with force your knees hit the floor and you wince at the sharp pain. Undoing his belt and pulling his cock out he gently grabs your hair and pulls you over “make me feel good, be a good wife for me” you nod, licking and kissing his length before sucking the tip into your mouth.

He moans out and the fist in your hair tightens as he pushes you further down, choking you and bringing tears to your eyes. You slap his thighs to get him to ease up but he thrusts up into your mouth even more and groans out before spilling down your throat. Pushing your head back you stumble backwards and hit the floor “mmmm well done” he says lifting you up and sitting you in his lap. “How about you go and make us some dinner and I’ll clean up your mess in here?” He says as he kisses your neck, nibbling on the spot that he knows makes you putty in his hands, you stand up and he slaps your ass making you jump “make something nice for me and fix your hair it's a mess”

A few hours later you’re sitting reading on the sofa when the phone rings, Charles jumps up to grab it and grins a kind of smile you’ve never seen before. Staring at him as he sits back down he looks over at you and smiles “Constance has invited us over for dinner, she must have heard our happy news. It's all coming together my little dove, I’m going to be so rich I won’t have to talk to anyone in the family ever again and people will respect me all across the city”. You look at him confused “what do you mean? You’ll be rich?” But he just ignores your questions and reads the paper.

You wake up the next morning and find a dress hanging up waiting for you, sliding your feet into your slippers you go downstairs to find Charles sitting waiting at the dining table “finally you’re awake, I’ve waited for hours for you. I’m absolutely starving” grabbing the eggs and bread you look at him sitting reading his newspaper, he hadn’t even made himself a coffee. “I need you to look nice for Constance, we need to make a good first impression” you nod your head and give him breakfast trying to kiss him on the cheek but he pulls away.

On the way to Blackwood manor you’ve already been told to be on your best behaviour and you feel tense, sensing your feeling Charles pulls you close and hugs you like he used to, kissing your head and squeezing your shoulders “I’m sorry darling I just want them to love you as much as I do, I didn’t mean to make you nervous” you relax into his side and smile feeling the little flutters in your stomach again.

Constance and Merricat welcome you into their home and congratulate you on your recent wedding “I’m sorry you weren’t there, we were just so excited to tie the knot” Charles says hugging you tight and smiling at his cousins. Merricat pulls you into the garden while Charles and Constance catch up “why aren’t you at the diner anymore?” She whispers, hoping Charles doesn’t hear her, you smile at her knowing she likes her routine “I’m sorry, Charles wants to take care of me so I don’t have to work anymore. We’ll be starting a family soon so I won’t have time for anything else” that’s not what she wants to hear so she storms into the house and barges past Charles while you call after her.

You help Constance prepare lunch and try to get to know her better but she seems to be wary of you, probably because of Merricats reaction earlier. “Charles can you open the wine for the table please” you ask, passing him the corkscrew and biting your lip when he winks at you and blows a kiss. “You two seem to be enamoured with each other” Constance observes as you smile to yourself, grabbing the plate of vegetables “Thankyou, we love each other very much, neither of us wanted to wait too long before making it official”. She nods her head and smiles “I wish we could have met before you married, I want to get to know my new cousin. Merricat speaks so fondly of you” she says as you both walk into the dining area

Merricat comes back for lunch sitting at the opposite end of the table from you all, sneering at everything Charles said. You could see he was getting more and more annoyed with her and you tried to diffuse it before something bad happened by constantly interjecting and getting her talking. Dessert is served and you all sit discussing the weather, which is the safest subject between you all, you’ve discovered, when Charles suddenly changes the subject. “So Constance you sent me a letter saying that I was entitled to some of the family money” you all look at him in shock but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Yes but there were some conditions Charles” she says softly trying not to make a scene. Exhaling a loud breath through his nose he starts “I needed a wife” he nods at you, your face burning with rage as you start to put the clues together. He continues “I need a home, I have that now. So where’s my money” you stare at him with tears in your eyes, before excusing yourself and going to the bathroom.

You take deep breaths to not let your panic take over. Trying to focus your mind on something you grip the edge of the sink and don’t hear him enter, until he leans over your body growling in your ear “don’t you dare fuck this up for me and I’ll make it worth your while”. Staring at each other in the mirror for a moment, the only way out of this is if you nod in agreement and follow him back to the table.

Merricat jumps up and sits by your side gripping your hand “are you ok?” You turn and smile at her nodding your head “I’m fine thankyou I just needed a little air” you take a sip of your wine and turn back to Charles glaring at him but he just smirks “I brought a duffel bag we can fill with my share, we can do it right now get it over and done with”.

Agreeing with him Constance takes him to the safe, leaving you and Merricat alone “you should leave him, he’s just using you” she says quickly and quietly. Shaking your head at her “now Merricat it’s not like that, he loves me he just shows it differently that’s all. He wants to start a family with me” you fake a smile and play with the ring on your left hand.

Once he has his money, Charles quickly makes excuses to leave, hurrying you out of the door with a hamper of food from the pantry, you wave at the sisters and smile as he drives away. Not attempting to get closer to him you sit in silence for the rest of the journey. Getting out before he’s even stopped the engine once you pull up at the cottage, slamming the door in his face and marching up to the bedroom to change.

He walks in a few moments later and picks you up pushing you against the wall, trapping you “listen to me, I needed a wife and you were an easy target. You fluttered your eyelashes the moment you set eyes on me, I knew I could get you exactly where I needed you, now I’m rich and I don’t need you anymore but I am willing to give you a couple of months wages to tide you over but you have to be a good fucking wife until I can get things sorted back home” you smile and nod at him “ok, that seems fair how long will you be here?” Raising a brow at how quickly you agree he contemplates his answer “about a week, maybe more” nodding again you push him back gently and move away from him “I’ll set up the guest bedroom for you, I would prefer it if you would sleep in there”.

He takes a deep breath and leaves the room watching you as he goes, as if he expects you to do something silly behind his back. He has no idea what’s about to happen and you’d almost feel sorry for him if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s a shitty person who deserves everything that's coming to him.

The next few days you play it cool, you want him to be relaxed around you and not raise any suspicion. You cook and clean and play the dutiful wife in all areas but the bedroom, not that he doesn’t try everyday, kissing your neck, rubbing your shoulders while you cook, even whispering filthy things in your ear like he used to but you always say no and turn him down.

Wednesday rolls around, nothing exciting ever happens on a Wednesday. Charles goes for his afternoon nap leaving you downstairs reading your book, you wait 20 minutes before hopping to action. Running to the pantry where he’s kept his duffel bag you quickly unzip it and check it’s all still there, satisfied he hasn’t moved anything you grab it and throw it in his car. Running back to the cupboard under the stairs you grab your suitcase, slip the note out of your book and place it on the end table next to his wallet.

Climbing into his car you start the engine and wait a moment to see if he wakes up, watching the window until you see him, there he is, his face burning with rage as he spots you. You blow him a kiss and speed off, laughing to yourself that you managed to fuck him over once and for all.

He runs downstairs hoping to catch up with you and screams when you’ve already gone, walking back into the house he spots the note you left him “Dear Charles, you were an easy target. Have a nice life”

[heliads]

A Questioning

You’re a journalist in Manhattan, just like your best friend, Katherine Pulitzer. You’ve also been sent to interview the Brooklyn newsies when a certain Spot Conlon catches your eye.

masterlist

You straighten your hair, your clothes, the bag hanging at your waist. You’ve been to plenty of places all up and down New York City on reporting business before, you’re not sure why this one occasion has you so worried. It could just be that this article is going to be one of the most important articles you’ve written yet, or it could be because you’re going to be headed to Brooklyn, a place known for the particular hostility frequented by the same newsboys you’re supposed to be interviewing.

Eventually, your friend has enough of your frenetic fixing of your appearance, grabbing your hands and forcing you to stop moving. Katherine Pulitzer, already well introduced to the newsboys of New York, does not have time for silly things such as fear. “Y/N, you’re going to be fine. Honestly.” You sigh, looking at her morosely. “You don’t know that. I mean, what if they don’t even want to do the article at all? That’ll send me back to the review pages forever.”

Katherine rolls her eyes. “Even if the Brooklyn newsies took one look at you and decided never to say a word to any reporter again- which they won’t- you couldn’t be fired if you tried. Your last piece on the strike was fantastic. That’s why they’re giving you this opportunity, right? Because they know you’ll be perfect.” Despite your growing nerves, this is true. You had taken advantage of the hubbub of the city following the Children’s Crusade and the newsboy strike, interviewing teenage shoe shiners and elevator operators alike. They hadn’t been willing to speak to that many people, so your words were broadcasted up and down the city. It had been fantastic for the sales of that issue of the newspaper, and fantastic for your career.

So, you’ve been handed a reporting opportunity regarding the future of the strikers once more. This time, you’ll be tracking down the newsies of a select borough, talking to them about how life working for the many New York newspapers has changed and if they still stand by their actions. This alone would be fine, were it not for the fact that you’ll be speaking to the Brooklyn newsies. It’s not that you think they’re going to attack you, more that you have no idea what to say to a group of boys whose preferred weekend activity is soaking errant teenagers. How do you convince a bunch of Brooklyn boys to spill their hearts out for your article?

However, Katherine is right. You’re going to get nowhere by merely moping around, so you pick up your bag, square your shoulders, and set off across the city. You intend to show up at the Brooklyn Lodging House around the late afternoon, when the boys will all have finished selling their papes, so you can talk to them freely without interrupting their work schedule. 

Despite your forced confidence, you can’t help but feel doubt descend on you as you walk through the streets of Brooklyn. You’ve spoken to a few of the Manhattan newsies before, mainly Jack (at Katherine’s insistence) as well as Davey and Crutchie. From what they tell you, the Brooklyn boys are completely different. Even Jack is hesitant to talk to Spot Conlon when he’s in a bad mood.

Regardless of your hesitations, you’re still a reporter, and you have to get through this job. You’ve been through enough with the idiot journalists on your newspaper team that you can’t stomach returning an empty pad of paper to them, so you must walk on. Even certain death at the hands of the Brooklyn boys is better than the jeering looks you’re sure to endure if you back down. So, you walk resolutely across the cobblestones, pausing only once before the door of the Brooklyn Lodging House to settle your thoughts before marching past the threshold. 

All eyes descend on you the second the door clicks shut behind you. The boys look up, curious as to why you could possibly be there. Remembering yourself, you clear your throat once before you start talking, delivering the speech you’d run through countless times in your head on the walk over. “Good afternoon. My name is Y/N, and I’m a journalist for the Evening Telegram. I’d like to speak to you about how life has changed after the strikes.”

There’s silence in the room, a deafening silence that seems to press in on you from every corner of the dimly lit gathering. At last, one boy steps towards you, shirt smeared slightly from the grime of the streets. He sneers down at you. “Why would we talk to a goil like you?” Indignation flares up in you, and you speak again before you can stop yourself. “Maybe if you talked to a goil like me, you could actually manage to use your brain more than once a week. You might even be able to know important things like telling your left from your right.”

The boy stands there, stunned, but before he can open his mouth to say anything else a voice rings out from the open door behind you. You turn around to see a new boy entering, this one clad in a red shirt and a gray cap that hides the top of his dark curls. “Damn, Giant, she killed you. Is this what all journalists are like? We might have to have more articles written just to meet you all.” You freeze slightly, recognizing him from the descriptions Katherine gave you. “Are you Spot Conlon?”

The boy grins even wider. “Guilty as charged. Is there a reason you’re here, other than insulting my boys?” You wince at that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I was here to ask you some questions about life after the strike? It’s for an article I’m writing.” Spot, however, does not seem bothered by the fact that you’ve offended one of his newsboys. Instead, he just waves for you to follow him down the hall and into a room that likely serves as his office. “He can take it. Come on, I can answer your questions without everyone looking on.”

You stand in his office of sorts for a second, hands still closed tightly around your notepad as you try and fail to think of what to do next. Although you may have planned out the first thing to say upon finding the Brooklyn newsies, you’re not entirely sure where to go from here. There was no line in your schedule where you dissed one of the biggest boys there, and nothing saying what to do when Spot Conlon asked to be alone with you in his office.

Speaking of which, the dark-haired boy clears his throat, looking meaningfully at your pen and paper. “Well? Don’t you have some questions to ask?” You turn to him with an embarrassed smile. “Right! Um, how has taking part in the strike changed work as a newsie? Do you feel more protected by the presence of Roosevelt in office? Do you believe that Pulitzer and the other newspaper companies could work together in the future to minimize chances of another successful strike while still lowering the cost of the papers, or was your strike crucial enough to allow you to retain your autonomy in the selling industry?”

Spot blinks at you for a second, surprised, then lets another grin stretch across his face. “I see you came prepared. Well, I can’t speak for everyone when I say this, but I suppose we’se doing alright for ourselves. Pulitzer knows better than to try and change the prices again, not after the stunt we pulled.” You nod. “You think you’re protected by the public’s disapproval of Pulitzer?” Spot shrugs. “Something like that.”

You finish scribbling down his answers, then tap your pen against your notebook, contemplating something he’d said. “You mentioned something about how you couldn’t speak for everyone. I thought Brooklyn was one of the most important boroughs in New York? I mean, a lot of the Manhattan newsboys get nervous whenever they have to head over here on business endeavors.”

Spot chuckles. “That may be true, but we all got our own opinions. Part of how you stay on top isn’t just your fists, it’s your head. You have to pick the right fights, you know?” You jot this down. When you look up, he’s regarding you with a faint smile, one he doesn’t even appear to know is there. “That’s oddly wise for someone who claims to spend all his time fighting or selling papes.” Spot flashes you a grin. “Are you putting that in the papers, too? About how I’m oddly wise?”

You can feel your cheeks burning. “Probably not.” Spot shrugs, although his grin is shameless. “Unfortunate. I wouldn’t have minded it being there.” He lets you stew for a second longer, then extends a hand to you. “Here, it’s getting dark out. You’ll want to be back in ‘Hattan before too long.” You take it, letting him lead you to the door. He pauses once before opening the door, still keeping your conversation between the two of you. “Oh, and Miss Reporter? You can come back any time you like.”

Spot ends up walking you back to Manhattan, despite your protests that you knew exactly where you were going. He’d simply tossed you a wink, saying something about how he wants to make sure his guests get home safely, especially when they’re pretty reporters. You could tell from the victorious grin on his face that he’d said it just to mess with you, although to be entirely honest with yourself, you’re not sure that you mind at all.

You end up writing the entire article that night, still abuzz over the conversation and the moonlit walk back to your apartment. The clatter of your typewriter fills the empty spaces in the room, and you drown out the sounds of the city with the spill of thoughts onto paper. In the end, you’re left with an entirely excellent article, and a growing want to go back to Brooklyn and keep talking to the dark-haired boy who seemed to find nothing more interesting than trying to rile you up.

As it turns out, you’ll get your wish- your boss thinks your work is excellent, ordering you back to spend another day among the Brooklyn newsies. You’re all too happy to accept, and the delighted grin on Spot’s face when he sees you darkening his door once more is only the icing on the cake.

You end up spending a lot more time in Brooklyn, even after the focus of your articles leaves Brooklyn and the newsies behind. You can’t help it- something about his maddening grin, or the way he always looks for you in the crowd, makes you want to keep coming back again and again. Spot certainly doesn’t mind, and he ends up coming to visit you too, sneaking in through the fire escape of your apartment window so your landlady doesn’t suspect a thing.

In the end, you’re not sure that there could have been any other ending to your time with Spot. He tells you he loves you after a couple weeks, you can’t help but feel the same. You’ve spent your time wandering up and down the streets of New York, and you’re certain that there is no one in the entire city that makes you feel quite as happy or as free as Spot. He just has this way of making you feel like the brightest star in the entire sky, although he’s more than willing to stay up late stargazing with you if you want to see if there are any contenders to your status.

Sometimes there are days when no one seems in the spirit to buy a paper, or the other men at your newspaper seem like they’ll never truly see you as an equal. That’s when you take a visit over to the lodging house, finding solace in whispered words and smiles even when you feel the worst. Life in New York might be hard, but at least you have Spot. To you, that is enough.

[literaryfic]

Chapters: 1/?
 Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV) 
Rating: Explicit
 Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young
Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Italian Mafia, (i know nothing about the mafia so this will be very inaccurate!!!), basically vincenzo & cha-young being mafia bosses in italy


Summary: When Vincenzo Cassano came back to Italy, no one expected to see someone by his side. Or how Cha-young and Vincenzo became the head of the Cassano family. a mafia couple au inspired by a discussion with @ourgalaxybangtan @ghostrights & @whovie-reloaded

  Vincenzo had been handling most of the family business since their adoptive father’s health had started to decline. As the consigliere of the Cassano family, he was Fabio’s most trusted man, his advisor, his lawyer but also his second-in-command.

It hadn’t been easy, all these years, to climb the ladder. He wasn’t a native, he wasn’t blood, and so not many people had welcomed him at first. That’s why he had to become ruthless, so that no one could deny his authority or even dare to try. He had killed and tortured many men, broken their minds and their bones, burned their flesh and cut off their limbs, ashes and screams trailing behind him. If he wasn’t proud of the blood on his hands, he was at least proud of his work. All the hours he’d spent training, fighting, preparing, scheming, studying, all his efforts to erase Park Joo-hyung from the face of earth had paid off. The scared, weak little kid was gone, buried with all his other victims. ‘An eye for an eye, and then some’, Vincenzo lived by that, and he would stop at nothing except killing the innocent. There was no doubt he was the best at what he did and anyone who did not respect him feared him enough to not threaten him. His success was the Cassano family’s success, yet he knew that members of his own clan would not hesitate to have him killed if they could. Two clear factions had formed in the past five years, those who supported Vincenzo as the next head of the family, and those who supported Paolo, his brother. Paolo and Vincenzo had never gotten along, and Paolo’s inferiority complex and jealousy grew deeper every time his older brother had to clean up after one of his rushed job. Paolo had a particular taste for violence. Whereas Vincenzo killed and tortured because he had to, Paolo got a kick out of hurting others, be it children, women or elders. He loved to assert his dominance, to feel almighty. Vincenzo didn’t think himself much better than him, (regardless of the reasons behind his murders, he’d probably killed way more than him), but he wanted Paolo to be punished for his sins. It was only a matter of time before some influential family members whispered plans of assassination and of ‘restoring the rightful heir’ into his ear. Paolo was an angry, frustrated man who wasn’t particularly good at his job, an easy puppet to control. He’d been watching them carefully but he knew that as long as his father was alive, no one would dare to touch him. Back then he had thought he would take care of them when it came to it, become the head of his family, and continue to rule the underworld. Then, the incident happened and everything changed. He hadn’t been able to sleep for weeks, his victims’ screams haunting his dreams. He started avoiding mirrors, his reflection taunting him. He barely ate anymore, and Fabio had reminded him to get a grip. So he had done just that. He drank himself to sleep or took sleeping pills, and he went on. He knew, however, that he could not go on like this much longer. He had to get out before he buried himself next to Park Joo-hyung and all the others whose lives he’d taken. He’d started to plan his escape secretly. He would wait until his father died, staying loyal to him as long as he was alive. When the time came, he knew Paolo would try to kill him. The power struggle between them would start as soon as the head of the family would die, but instead of destroying his opponents, Vincenzo would seize the opportunity to leave. He would go back to South Korea, get the gold and leave to an island, where he would spend the rest of his days. The death of his previous Chinese client was perfect timing. As expected, Fabio, his boss and adoptive father, had named him the next head of the family in his will. It came to no surprise to most members, but murmurs spread quickly, “Can you imagine? A foreigner, as the head of our family? What has the world become?”. After wrapping things up in Italy, Vincenzo promised himself to never return, throwing away the key to the graveyard of his sins. …. There’s no going back from this, he thinks. Vincenzo is still holding Cha-young’s face, unable to look away from her lips, still wet from the kiss. Her pink cheeks, her smeared lipstick, the freckles under her fondation. Her. Hong Cha-young. His heart is soaring in his chest, all the emotions he had desperately tried to silence erupting all at once. There was no point in denying it, he had fallen in love with her. All he could do now was break his own heart, hoping it would heal. …. He realises he can’t live without her after she gets injured. They’re trying to get more information on Jang Han-seok’s paper company, and this time they’re trying to prove that some of the transactions made to European bank accounts were bribes. They’re breaking into none other than the Minister of Economy and Finance, Cha Do-won’s house. Miri had made sure to deactivate the security system and cameras, and Vincenzo was in charge of securing the place while Cha-young searched for the secret ledger the Minister kept hidden in his office. Cha Do-won was making a speech right now, and they had assumed most of his personal security would be with him. Vincenzo had quickly incapacitated the few men around the house and Cha-young looked for the ledger. After a few minutes, she found a hidden drawer in his desk. There it was, a thick documents labelled 'Accounts’. Subtlety wasn’t one of his strong points, apparently. They were about to leave when suddenly, a dozen men started to raid the place. Vincenzo fought them off as best as he could, and he was grateful that Mr. Lee barged in to help. They thought they had them all beat, and so Vincenzo made a mistake. He turned his back to the door to look for Cha-young, who he thought was behind him. “Vincenzo!”, he heard her shout his name. He sees her across the room, about to get struck by a man. He rushes to her and knocks him out quick enough. “Oh my God”, she says, “Did you see that? I almost died! He had a knife as well, and I dodged it, and then I ran—”. She keeps rambling while they get out of the house and into their car, clearly in shock. She’s getting paler as time passes, and he only notices the blood that pooled on the seat when she tries to get out of the car. She was stabbed, but the shock and adrenaline had prevented her from feeling any pain. “Oh”, she says, looking down at her wound. Vincenzo jumps out of his seat and rips the bottom half of the T-Shirt he’s wearing. “I don’t think now’s the time for that, Darling.” Even in a life-threatening situation, Cha-young is joking around. Vincenzo’s mind stops, he feels paralysed by fear, the fear of losing her, of her dying in his car, because of him. He pushes those thoughts away as he holds the fabric to her wound. “Hold this, as hard as you can.” The rest of the car ride to the hospital is a blur of running red lights, speeding in between traffic and repeating “Hong Cha-young, stay with me.” Vincenzo had faced death everyday for the last 20 years. He had killed, had seen people kill and had almost died countless of time. “There’s no limit to fear”, he’d once said to Jang Han-seok’s informant. Only now, waiting for Cha-young’s surgery to be over, does he understand what those words truly mean. During 6 hours, Vincenzo pleads and begs God, the devil, anyone willing to listen (Don’t take her. Everyone but her). He makes empty promises (I’ll do anything. I’ll stop hurting others, I’ll disappear from her life) and meaningless threats (Don’t you dare take her. I’ll kill you, too). In the end he doesn’t know who answers his prayers, and what promises seals the deal, but Cha-young wakes up and he doesn’t care. He holds her hand, stays by her side, and vows to never leave her. He starts to plan for an escape route shortly after that. In case they can’t stay in South Korea and need to take off. First, he thinks of Malta, or another island. But they would need to go somewhere they have allies, somewhere with an easy access to emergency money and resources. Italy. He contacts Luca and sets everything up, a two bed-room apartment, two bank accounts, and everything they could ever need like cash, some guns, and a car. “Consigliere, will there be another person with you?”, Luca asks. “Hopefully it won’t come to that”, he avoids the question. He knows he promised not to come back, but some promises need to be broken out of necessity. He needed to make Cha-young was safe, at all cost. His brother’s betrayal had made it easier. He’d been caught in the crossfire of their fight against Babel, killed by Choi Myung-hee in order to frame Vincenzo. But they had proved his innocence, and sent back his corpse in Milan. After Fabio’s death, Paolo hadn’t been the best replacement, and after he was killed in South Korea, they’d put in charge one of their cousins who had neither Fabio’s experience, nor Vincenzo’s mastermind. The family was in a crisis, which didn’t go unnoticed by their rivals. Soon, business started to slow down, their clients stolen by the competition and their allies started to switch teams. Money ran low. For that reason, Vincenzo didn’t run into much opposition when he came back. Most members and people in their business thought he had killed Paolo after he’d unreasonably followed him to South Korea and tried to finish him. Paolo only left disappointment and resentment behind him, and so no one missed him much. What they had not expected, however, was for Vincenzo Cassano to come back with someone.

[the-lady-writes-what]

24. Enji Todoroki

          Theme: Monster hunter

          Kinks: Outdoor sex, rope play, voyeurism (if you squint), oral (giving), face fucking, cream pie, slight breeding kink (it’s Enji we’re talking about, come on)

Masterlist

This was supposed to come out on Saturday, but if you read a post I wrote earlier I’m visiting my boyfriend whom I haven’t seen a long while. This one and the next chapter is going to running late, but I plan on catching up with the rest so that everything else will be posted on schedule. 

With that being said, ENDEAVOR FUCKERS COME GET YOUR FOOD! 

EDIT: 04/26/2021 Idiots really be out here not paying attention to when a character starts giving somebody a blowjob and they start talking. Like you can’t talk with your mouth full. It’s me. I’m idiots.

You had to crane your neck to look at the man. He was taller—no. That wasn't right. He was taller than tall. He was enormous. When you left to answer the door to your cottage, you didn't know what or who you would be expecting. Certainly not this. Hair red as flames, eyes the sea's color after a storm, and a body completely encased in hard muscle. The stranger was clad in leather armor and a wool coat. He wore a grimace that would make babies weep. 

"C-Can I help you, sir?" 

"Enji, here! Let me through. I can address the situation better than you can!"

Another stranger brushed past the one standing in your doorway. He was blonde, shorter than his partner, and held himself differently than the other. 

"Hi, I'm Keigo, and this is my boss, Enji. We heard a rumor that you could help us," said the blonde stranger. 

"W-What can I help you with?" You stuttered. 

"You see, we were in the area—"

"We hunt monsters," said the enormous one, Enji.

Blood drained from your face. 'Monster hunters'? They hunted monsters—vampires, ghouls, werewolves, succubi and incubi, and, of course, witches. You slowly backed away from the door. 

"Relax, we're not here for you. There aren't any complaints or bounties out on you," said Keigo.

"There are only two kinds of witches, dead ones and the ones who haven't lost their humanity." Enji's eyes looked at you up and down. "And you don't appear to be the former."

"What my boss means to say is that you are the kind of witch who helps people. You don't summon ghosts or dig up graves of the recently deceased for their bones, do you?" 

You rapidly shook your head. "NO!" 

"We were recommended your services from someone in the local village. They said you were an expert in this particular matter," said Keigo. 

Without invitation, the pair of hunters crossed the threshold of your door. You ran to the kitchen to put a kettle on the fire. If your guests were going to barge in and make themselves comfortable, you were at least going to make yourself a cup of tea to calm your nerves. 

"Twenty miles from here," said Enji, "A trickster spirit has been causing havoc. Farm animals have gone missing and later found strewn on top of barns. Guts missing. Women are getting pregnant at the same time without any one of them committing adultery. Shrines and courthouses have had their doors blocked by piles of manure. They say it's a malevolent spirit brought along by a tradesman. They also say that your protection and banishing spells are the best in the area."

"Well, I don't know about that," you said. 

Your palms were getting clammy with sweat. You made three cups of tea and set an antique tray on the coffee table between you. You focused on pouring an even amount in each cup though you could not ignore the pair of eyes lingering on you. You could feel a pair of eyes on your every movement, but you couldn't tell which one was staring. You pushed two cups towards the men and settled yourself down in a cozy armchair, taking your tea with you. You expected the monster hunters to rudely throw your tea over their shoulders or inspect the drink and the cups and the saucers to boot. But they didn't. Keigo and Enji were perfectly comfortable and trusted you enough to drink without suspicion of you trying to kill them or turn them into animals. 

"Has anyone seen this creature, because I've never heard anything like it," you said. 

"Unfortunately, no," said Enji. He sipped his tea with the air of a gentleman. He certainly didn't look like one because of his size and his leathers, but he pretended to be one as he drank your tea. 

"The thing is, trickster spirits usually dismember cattle or get women pregnant, but rarely do both," you said. "So, you might be looking at one trickster and a hustler who's telling the women he knocks up to blame the creature."

"It can't be both?" Asked Keigo.

You shook your head again. "It's either one or the other. Disemboweling cattle and impregnating random mortal women are two different natures. I will eat my broomstick if I turn out to be wrong."

"How soon can you pack?" It was Enji this time. 

You furrowed your brows. You glanced over at Keigo, who seemed equally surprised. This hadn't been something they planned together. 

"Are you expecting me to go with you?" 

"We can't cast spells like you can, and you seem to be more knowledgeable about the subject than us."

"But I—" You started to protest only for Enji to stop you. 

"You'll be compensated for your troubles," said Enji.

He fixed you with a piercing look. You swallowed hard and sank into your chair.

"Can I finish my tea first?" You took a sip.

Enji gave you two hours to get things together. You made a pack that should last you a couple of weeks. You didn't know if Enji realized that you had no horse and would have to walk all the way with them. They probably had horses but weren't going to share. By the end of this, you were going to wring as much compensation out of them as you could. You secured all the windows, hid all your valuables in the floorboards, and locked the front door. You heard a pair of horses neighing at your gates and sighed to yourself. 

Enji and Keigo were getting ready to hop on. Enji grabbed your bag and handed it off to Keigo, who tied it with his saddlebag. To compensate for his large size, Enji's horse was a Clydesdale, a huge horse with a neatly trimmed mane. Enji held his hand out to you. Confused, you took it. His large hands held unto your waist, and he lifted you unto the saddle without effort. Like you weighed no more than a couple of grapes. Then, Enji sat down in the saddle with you. Your legs dangled off the side rather helplessly. You looked behind Enji's massive shoulder over at Keigo, who looked just as confused as you and shrugged his shoulders. Enji pulled he reigns of his horse and brought it to a trot. 

That night, the three of you sat around a fire. Enji stood up and said something about getting extra firewood. You waited until he was outside of earshot. 

"What the hell is the deal with your partner? Is he always like this?"

"He is the way that he is because of his past. He used to be a bureaucrat if you can believe it," said Keigo.

"I don't."

"It's the truth whether you believe me or not. Enji spent most of his life kissing ass and licking boots. He pushed his children away because of his politicking. Drove his wife insane. One day, he had to travel to the far east of the kingdom because his king wanted him to, despite his family's protests. Enji went anyway. When he came back, his wife was dead, and his children moved away. He turned to fighting monsters, the kind that killed his wife, to make up for the bullshit he'd done. His kids still don't talk to him, but he makes sure they're doing alright."

You stared at Keigo.

"You asked why he's like that, and I told you. Sorry if it's over-sharing," said Keigo. 

Enji returned with a bundle of wood. His back was turned towards you as he rekindled the bonfire. You remembered how his eyes looked at you. What did he see?

Dawn came sooner than you thought. You were on the road again, and by late afternoon you arrived at your destination. The village was smaller than yours and was warier of your abilities. You salted the roof of every building, including the ones that still had dried blood on them from the last time an animal carcass had been dumped. You placed a charm over every door, front and back. 

Then, all the hunters had to do was wait. 

You lurked behind a stack of barrels and crates as soon as the sun began to set. Enji and Keigo set up shop in the village square. The creature, whatever it was, had no room to go anywhere. With every door bolted and roof blessed with salt, it had nowhere to hide. Night descended slowly as if to give the creature more time to rest or find a new hiding spot. Lights flickered out in every window in the village square; all the others followed suit. You clutched a long knife in your hand. 

Out of a barn, it came bursting through wood and hay. It had a long body but very little muscle mass, like a snake with four legs and antlers like a deer driven through moss. Its hiss echoed through the echoed and made the rafters of buildings shudder. You were thrown to the ground by the power of its roar. You fumbled to your knees to get a good look at the creature who'd been terrorizing the poor villagers. At the beast ripped through the barn, salt scattered off the roof and landed on its serpentine body. The thing fell to the ground, twisting and writhing on its back while trying to shake off the salt. 

Keigo and Enji rushed over, weapons in hand. Swords glinted like silver fangs in the night's darkness. Though weak, the creature managed to roll unto his feet and charged at them. But Enji and Keigo were faster than that. 

Being smaller and younger, Keigo slid around to the creature's side and plunged his sword into its stomach. Or at least the approximate location of where its stomach was located. Its body was so long and thin, it was hard to tell which organs lay where. The monster was about to swerve and turn its jagged teeth on him when Enji's long claymore cut through its neck at the base of the skull. The village square was so quiet that you heard metal plunging deep into flesh and the snap of bone. You watched by moonlight Enji's foot crack open the skull and drive his sword deeper into its neck. The creature squealed like a pig at the slaughterhouse. It clawed and snapped its teeth, but there was no moving. Keigo pulled his sword out and pushed it back in. Eventually, the creature stopped moving.

The following morning, the sleepy village woke to the grotesque smell of demon flesh burning on a pyre. You helped Enji and Keigo erect it in a barren field and set it ablaze with a simple fire spell. Though they hated the smell, they were at least grateful to have the monster disposed of. Now, they just had to worry about one other problem. You looked around at the crowd that gathered to watch the fell beast burn. Although you couldn't tell how many were secretly still within the first month, several women looked pregnant. 

"Let me stay a while to find out who's getting these women pregnant. This isn't natural, you told Enji. 

"Very well," he said. "I'll have a talk with the mayor about letting us stay in his barn." 

"You don't have to stick around. Your job's done here, isn't it? They paid you, right?"

"Would you rather walk twenty miles back to your cottage?" Enji asked.

"N-no," you answered. 

"Then, we're staying."

That was that. You tried to coax Enji into leaving. You didn't need protection, and you were okay with walking home. Hell, you could have paid for a horse or even a donkey to ride back since he did give you one-third of the money earned from slaying the creature. Enji heard none of your protests, folded his arms across his massive chest, and looked sternly down at you. You felt dwarfed in his presence. His smoldering eyes were not suited for it, and he was insistent in ways you couldn't believe. Keigo said so himself one evening into your third night at the village.

"He's never been like this before. Are you sure you didn't cast a love spell on him, Miss Hocus Pocus?" Asked Keigo.

"No!" You said vehemently and tossed a balled-up dirty sock at him. "That is highly unethical, to say the least. I would never manipulate someone's emotions like that!"

"Find anything?"

You interviewed every woman who had gotten pregnant. They conceived at almost the exact time. That wouldn't usually be an issue if it was winter or a recent festival had taken place. Neither hadn't. They couldn't blame lousy weather for sequestering them with bored husbands or lovers. The fact that they got pregnant at almost the same time disturbed you the most. A couple had already terminated the pregnancies because of embarrassment, but you didn't blame them. Threw a small wrench in your investigation, though.

You let yourself out of the humble cottage where a woman told her story to you. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. Enji was waiting for you by the cottage's fence. 

"None of the stories match up. Now that they can't blame the monster, they came up with their own lies. Babies don't just magically appear out of nowhere. Someone is getting them pregnant. They're either protecting them or too embarrassed to admit who it is. It certainly isn't any of their husbands and lovers, that I can tell you."

You and Enji walked over to the only tavern in the area. It was the only well-built thing in the village, aside from the mayor's house and the town hall. A few men clapped Enji on the back in gratitude for saving their livestock, but they never noticed you. Both of you took a seat at the bar. Enji paid for your drink since nobody seemed to care that you lent a helping hand with the monster. Enji's drinks were on the house. The beer was a little stale, but not the worst you ever had. 

A couple swigs in and Enji started asking you questions. 

"Where did you learn your Craft?" 

"From my father," you answered. 

"Your father? I thought it was passed down maternally?

You slumped in your seat. "It is in some cases. My mother never showed up, and that left my father to raise me by himself. She left the day after she gave birth and never returned. My father is a good man and even better witch." You downed your mug of beer. "Have you ever killed a witch yourself, Enji?" You asked. 

Enji looked over at his mug. His eyes became steely and set in stone. They lingered on your neck before traveling up to your eyes.  

"Once, but I wouldn't call her a witch. She gave folks like you a bad name. She was an awful hag. Like to turn lost or kidnapped children into swine and sell them at marketplaces where they were taken to slaughterhouses. When she was bored, she disguised herself as a beautiful woman and danced naked around a bonfire. She lured men who would hear her. She slept with them to drain them of their virility. By the time I had gotten there, the village was in misery."

"What did you do to her?" You almost didn't want to know the answer, but there was small comfort in that Enji didn't compare you to an evil hag. 

Enji drained his mug in one go. He practically slammed it on the counter. All but two minutes passed before another appeared in his hand. Enji drank half of it before saying anything at all. 

"I lay in wait for her after I followed some kids into the woods. They were lured there by one of her magic spells. I kept the kids in a net so they wouldn't go into the house. She tried to kill me with a knife, cut my arms up, but she didn't stand a chance. She hadn't been prepared for a fully grown monster on her doorstep instead of three kids. I took a chain hanging off her rafters and strangled her. I cut out her heart, burned it, and. Then set the rest of the house on fire too. I dragged the kids back to their parents without too much trauma. As far as I'm aware, they haven't had any problems ever since."

You stared into your beer mug, which was about halfway empty by this point. You knocked it back and slammed it on the counter. Enji bought you another. About half an hour into your drinking, Enji left the seat next to yours to take a piss. You stared into your mug again when you felt someone pull up to the bar on the other side of you. He was young, handsome, and wore a broad smile. His sandy-blonde hair was pushed back away from his face in a way that reminded you of Keigo, but his eyes were the wrong color. Blue-colored crystals beamed at you. The color of his eyes was beautiful, but they left you unnerved. 

"You're seeing the monster hunter, Enji, right? You're his wife or something?"

"What? No, I'm not his anything. He asked me for help, and I agreed. I was pleasantly compensated. With money." You added sharply in case the young fool tried to twist your words. 

"I see," the stranger said. "I thought that someone as pretty as you wouldn't get involved with a man old enough to be your father." 

"I don't see how it's any concern of yours, fop," you sniped. 

The young man bit his lower lip. You thought you saw his hand disappear into his vest, but you had a couple of drinks in you and couldn't tell for certain. 

"Well, well, well. The little white witch has some spunk. Here, I thought you were just a mistress, tagging along because of the old man's jealousy. Now I see that you've got quite the fire in you." 

You wanted to gag. It would be a simple task to make him vomit in turn or make him stink of skunk for the rest of his life. Your father always taught you that curses should only be used when absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, being rude and horny didn't qualify as absolutely necessary.

"How bout you ditch the old man and come with me. I have some friends with some good stuff. The best wine you've ever had. What do you say?" The young man continued to pester. 

You had just opened your mouth when Enji's hand appeared out of nowhere. The man stood beside you and reached for your mug. He brought it to his lips and drained the last of your beer. 

"I think she's outgrown your company," Enji growled. "You should move along." 

The stranger reluctantly got out of his seat and walked away. He still wore a small on his face as he did so. 

"I think we should head out. I don't think we should meddle in the village's personal affairs. It'll sort itself out eventually," said Enji. 

"But—"

"It shouldn't concern you." 

You didn't want to leave, but some part of you realized that Enji was right. You had no clues, and none of the women were going to tell you the truth. You didn't live here, so why spend so much time and effort on people weren't really your concern? If they really needed you, they could come and pay for it. Still, you were a little reluctant to pack and leave the villagers and their unsolved mystery behind. You waited by the horses as Enji and Keigo finished some last-minute business with the mayor. What they could be discussing, you could hardly venture to say. When it came time for you all to climb on, Enji handed you over to Keigo instead of helping you unto his Clydesdale. The change was odd, but you didn't overthink it. 

A couple hours into the ride, you noticed Enji wiping his brow more than usual. It was a mild day and, for the most part, was covered by the trees from the sun. He didn't glance at you. At sunset, Enji took his horse and pack and traveled a bit further than you all. He set up his own camp where you and Keigo couldn't see him. 

"What's he doing? Wouldn't it be better to camp together? That can't be very safe," you said to Keigo. 

"He's…feeling a bit under the weather. Doesn't want to spread it to either of us." Keigo's answer would have satisfied anyone else.

"He was perfectly fine all day," you counted. "What could he have caught?"

You stood up and started in the direction where Enji disappeared. Keigo hopped in front of you a moment later. He spread his arms out as if that would be enough to deter you. 

"I can't let you do that, Y/N. He told me to keep you safe, so that's what I'm—"

You grabbed a handful of sleeping powder from the satchel hanging on your waist. You usually carried an assortment of these spell powders on you in case of emergencies. While your life wasn't in danger, Keigo was stubborn. You cradled the lavender powder in your hand and blew a puff of air into it. Your hand was aligned with his face to blow the powder into it. Keigo coughed and wheezed for a minute before his eyelids drew closed. Keigo was snoring face down in the dirt in less than two minutes. 

You trekked through the woods, snapping every twig along the way. Through the bushes, you spotted a smaller campfire and then a horse tether to an oak tree. Enji stood at the farthest end of his encampment. His back was turned towards you. You tip-toed quietly to avoid startling him. The closer you stepped, the more awkward the scene became. Enji's right arm was shaking with effort while his left hand braced against a tree. He was panting and grunting. But what shocked you was the way he said 'your' name. It didn't take very long for you to figure out what he was doing and why he camped away from you guys. 

"Fuck, Y/N." 

At first, you thought he noticed you creeping on him from behind. With an animalistic groan and a quiet splatter, you realized that he finished himself off with your name on his tongue. Enji leaned his forehead against the trunk. He moaned as if in pain. He looked down, swore, and started again.

You took a few steps closer. 

“Enji?" You called out. 

You were within arms' length of him when Enji turned around. His face was red as hair, but not nearly as red as the bulging head of his cock. You blushed immediately and swallowed hard at its size. Enji didn't move his hand, which fisted his cock, but he didn't remove his hand and hide.

"The man put something…in your drink this afternoon. I was coming back when I saw him pour a vial of pink potion in your mug."

You remembered the stranger and how he pressed and prodded. You thought you saw his hand dig into his vest. However, you'd been drinking and couldn't tell for sure. It dawned on you that Enji drank your laced beer before you made a terrible mistake. You shuddered, thinking about what could have happened had you drank it before Enji could get to it. 

"You're in pain…because of me. You saved me from getting drugged and raped by a stranger. That love potion…is causing this, just as it's caused all of those pregnancies in the village?" 

You watched the beads of sweat roll down Enji's face and neck. Enji nodded.

"You should go back. Keigo will protect you from me. I shouldn't be around you when I'm like this," said Enji. 

His eyes flickered to your chest, then he forced them back to your face; they trailed down your neck again. Enji snapped his eyes shut and started to turn around. You grabbed his right arm and sank to your knees.

"You let yourself be drugged to save me. You're in pain. I'm a healer, so," you took a deep breath, "let me help you."

Enji didn't give you a warning before shoving himself into your mouth. Your jaw was already open wide for him, but that didn't keep them from straining with the effort. He was thick as a horse cock, veiny, and reached the back of your throat. Enji held your head between his large hands as he snapped his hips into your mouth. You struggled to breathe through your nose while Enji thoroughly fucked your throat. 

He growled like an animal. The sound erupting from his throat almost drowned out the desperate whines coming from yours. You laved your tongue over him and sucked in your cheeks to help things move along. You clawed at his thighs then held unto his hips. They moved faster, snapping into your mouth without hesitation. Enji's vigor was nothing like you seen or felt before. His cock filled your mouth and stretched you open without even trying. 

"Brace yourself, Y/N. I'm about to come. Be a good girl and let me come down your throat," Enji growled. 

A second later, your face was thrust into his crotch. Your nose brushed against the forest of curly red hair. His balls felt hot against your chin. Last but not least, Enji's cock reached all the way back into your mouth. You could feel him bulging in your throat. Your jaws ached as your mouth swelled up with his cum. The substance leaked out of the corner of your mouth. Enji did not pull out until the rest dripped down the inside of your throat. You were the one to pant like a dog in heat when he finally pulled out. 

You gasped when your senses came back to you. Enij's chest was still heaving for breath, and sweat rolled down his exposed skin. His armor was ditched in a pile near his campfire. His gray shirt stuck to his skin where his sweat soaked through. Still protruding from his black trousers was his red cock. 

"Shit. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought," you said in all seriousness. 

"Wait here." 

Enji didn't bother to tuck himself in before walking to his pack. He pulled out a length of rope and carried it back. You tried not to stare at his member as it bobbed freely in his long strides back towards you. 

Enji threw the down at the base of the tree. His broad hands took you by the shoulders and pinned your back against it. Next, they went to work on your clothes. Enji snipped the corset laces at your end with a knife on his belt. His hands tore open your shift and skirt to make way for him. Once most of your skin was exposed to him, Enji grabbed your hands, pulled them above your head, and tied them with rope. To one end, you. At the other end, he looped around the nearest branch and fastened a knot there. Your feet could barely touch the ground when he finished. 

Your legs were quickly spread and hoisted over his hips. Enji lined himself up to your slit. The angry, blunt head spread open your cunt, lubricated by the juices freely flowing. Enji's hands cupped each of your ass cheeks and squeezed hard as he bottomed out. He felt so much more prominent in your throat than in your cunt, but that didn't feel less substantial. Enji's cock still was hard, thick, and ridged. Your walls fluttered around him. 

"You wet for me already?" Enji wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. 

He didn't give you a chance to reply before starting. Enji pulled out most of the way until just the tip remained. He pushed all the way in again, balls deep. Repeating the process, Enji thrust faster and harder. You arched your back though your body strained against him and the ropes keeping you off the ground. Your shoulders and arms were going to burn like hell tomorrow, but at the moment, it didn't fucking matter. 

Your breasts were smashed against his hard chest. The friction tweaked your nipples into stiff peaks. Enji lowered his face to kiss and bite your neck. Latching onto your shoulder did little to muffle the sound erupting from his throat. He was an animal in heat. Your legs bounced with every thrust of his deep inside your body. 

You tried to meet him thrust for thrust, pushing your hips against his. After a while, it was a vain effort. Despite your youth, you couldn't imagine keeping up with him. You quickly gave up and handed Enji the power. 

He didn't say much. There were no your cunt feels like it was made for my cock or you take it so well as a bitch in heat. Enji could have said those things and more. He was focused on completing as soon as possible so as not to further harm you. He grunted like a beast but made no effort to verbally degrade you. 

When your walls fluttered around him again and squeezed his cock, Enji followed suit. Ropes of cum warmed your lower belly. Then, and only then did Enji speak up.

"Is it wrong for wanting to imagine you fucking swollen with my baby inside you? You're so fucking full of my seed, aren't you, Y/N?"

You could barely nod. The thought shocked you for a moment, and you didn't know if you wanted it. Time would only tell.

[claybefree]

Seeing as it's the twentieth anniversary, I guess I should post this again

September Third, Two Thousand and Nine

For years whenever anyone asked me when my son Henry was born I’d start to say September instead of August 25, 2001. Sunday he had his eighth birthday party at his mother’s house, and I stayed here. Most of his mother’s friends don’t care for me much. The feeling is mutual. Tonight coming home from work I started stitching what I’m about to write together in my mind and suddenly got very afraid. I thought for a moment that I was about to go get drunk, which might very likely be death for somebody like me. I was sure I was going to change direction of the truck, that I’d drive the same route I always did back then, that I would stand by the register and stare at the bottle in my hand without really knowing I where I was. I think it has to do with the weather finally changing and perhaps that Henry’s mom and I are no longer together. I sat on the porch of my little house and called a friend and told him all this. He listened and after a while I felt better, which is exactly how these things should go. When we decided we were done he told me I should go in and write all this down.

I worked on through that whole day. Most everybody else on the job had stopped and listened to each of the radios on the different floors or cried. The asshole Turks I was framing a bathroom for wouldn’t let me quit. They had tile to run. I found it made me feel better to keep going anyway. The laborers cussed me when I asked them to move so that I could use the table saw, a natural gathering spot on any job. They seemed to think I was calloused or hard-hearted and it was because I was from Tennessee. It just now occurred to me that maybe they were right.

That afternoon, when it was determined safe to walk across the bridges, most of the job, the other carpenters and trades-people, wandered home to Brooklyn or Queens. Me and the two left to close everything up had it different as we lived in Jersey. Anthony, the boss, was big and red-haired, red faced and lived in Hoboken. Duane was in charge of demolition and waste, was a little shorter and darker, and lived in Secaucus or maybe somewhere west of that I think. They squared off on each other frequently. It always reminded me of two walruses going at it on a beach.

Whenever we went out to the bar afterwards Anthony would have a Bud tall boy in each hand at all times, the waitress would come up with four for him whenever we sat down. On the job we liked to yell at each other, I once told him I was doing him a favor by giving him such an easy target, and he never missed an occasion to oblige me. Duane was a single dad, dark haired with deep sunken yet kind eyes that always seemed to have bags under them. One of the black laborers told him once he was the most Uncle Fester looking motherfucker he had ever seen. I tended to agree.

We locked the job up at four I think, humped it across the park through the smoke to the A-train. There was smoke forming a mist around the trees of central park that day. There were no flower children loitering at Yoko’s “Imagine” monument to barge through. Our thinking was to get downtown to the Path train. We had no idea that two of the stations had been destroyed. It didn’t matter, we were underground fifteen minutes before Anthony vetoed the idea. People were running wild through the stations, on the trains, everything was panic and Oh Fuck and Anthony had no intention of being underground. He had a funny look on his face that I couldn’t figure out. It wouldn't occur to me until later that the big man was very afraid.

In the years since I have always wondered why people have reacted so strongly from that day. Later we would go to war because of a something that happened one day in New York City and this has always seemed really strange to me. I guess what I mean is that I was there and never wanted to kill anybody because of it. Most of the time I just thought it was very strange and sad and mostly just very interesting. I only remember ever crying about it twice. The first time was a few months afterward, I had quit Anthony to stay home with Henry. Part of our routine was to watch Sesame Street. One day in the winter there was a skit where Elmo got very scared because of some smoke and noise that was never identified. I suppose in this case it was a nameless fear. A New York City fireman came on screen and hugged him, told him it was okay to be scared, Elmo, and that everything would be alright. I remember little red furry Elmo hugged the fireman tight. I held Henry in my lap and cried into his fine blonde hair.

It was the fireman that did it. I still get upset when I think about the firemen. I have had a lot of trouble with cops in different times in my life, but I never had a problem with any fireman I ever encountered, drunk or otherwise. They seem to me to be a different animal entirely.

Anthony, Duane and me ran into two firemen on the deck of the cruise boat that carried us across to Weehawken. They came in and collapsed on the painted metal floor, shedding boots and letting their helmets roll away. Some people applauded weakly, others asked questions, they just stared at us and said nothing. It didn’t occur to me until much later they were probably the only ones from their station who lived. Other men that for years they worked with, ate and fought with, got drunk with were dead. There was a bar I frequented in Jersey City a few blocks from our house where a couple of weeks later I saw three firemen in dress uniforms. One was between his partner on a stool and the third who was older and may have been a captain. The captain was clearly upset, swaggering and poking the other two in the chest. Everybody else was trying hard not to pay attention to what seemed about to develop into a fight. I think later I saw the old man leaning against the bar and weeping openly, he must have been sixty at least.

I got drunk in this bar Sept. 10th while my wife and kid slept back home. She’d start nursing and pass out with him and I’d head out to roam. The thing I liked about this place was the Sinatra on the jukebox, so that night I loaded it up and sat at the bar listening. I think it was the first time I’d ever heard “Summer Wind.” The tattooed brunette tending bar must have thought it was cute because she serenaded me, singing along with a couple of the songs. There was another man with a mustache further down the line who was putting the blast on her and didn’t seem to like me much so I got the fuck out early. By “early” I mean I didn’t close the place.

I won’t tell you what we saw on the boat ride across the Hudson, you’ve seen it already. We unloaded at Weehawken and everyone, thousands of high end refugees really, started walking south towards Hoboken where we had been told there were buses waiting to take us home. I noticed that even wearing boots, the three of us walked faster than the others. We were construction workers living and working around Manhattan and we were very good at walking. I remember being comforted by walking with them. Hundreds of buses lined the streets of Hoboken and the three of us walked the length of that town. Anthony broke off about halfway to head home. A couple of weeks later I showed up having laid out drunk for two days and told him I had come for my tools. He looked at me and didn’t say a word. He mailed me my check. I haven’t seen the man since.

Duane and me trudged the rest of Hoboken together. I heard that not soon after I left he was let go to cut costs and that not long after that he got into a bad time with a prostitute on rt. 1 & 9. The smoke in Hoboken was thicker than in the city and the fumes from streets filled with idling buses finally got my hangover to officially kick in. I told Duane about how I’d had “Summer Wind” playing as background music in my head all day. He laughed and began singing the song, each line perfectly. We got through the crowd easily, after hours of walking together we had finally hit a stride together. We were marching, really. There was the giant blue sky of the day broken intermittently by smoke and there was the roar of diesel noise and Hoboken and Duane singing Summer Wind to me; some punk kid from Tennessee who had no business being there.

The only other incident I remember having to cry because of some assholes who decided to fly planes into tall buildings was coming across the Manhattan bridge one night after carrying my sister-in-law home to Park Slope. She would come over most nights to hang out with the baby, and around eleven or so and in various states of sobriety I’d be asked to drive her back home. I never hated the terrorists for invoking a War of Terror, I hated them for causing enough terror that it fucked the roads up. Shit got closed for what seemed no fucking reason whatsoever. One day coming back from the pediatrician’s office, Henry got stuck howling in his car seat for four hours because the Holland Tunnel was handling too much traffic and we were too afraid to take him out of it because of the cops everywhere. My sister-in-law and I spent a lot of time in the Saturn together on the nights I drove her home. I can’t remember what we talked about, probably everything. I haven't spoken to my sister-in-law since I moved out last summer.

This particular night the Brooklyn Bridge was only operating east-bound into Brooklyn so after I dropped her off I was diverted back across the Manhattan Bridge in order to get back into the city and eventually home. The Manhattan Bridge back then was still under renovation and I guess has always been the ugly, cross-eyed cousin of the Brooklyn Bridge. I got stuck on it, moving slower than shit, and staring at trash and old faded plywood encasing the little bit of wrought iron and Neo-Classical elements that were left up by the arch. Off to the left t seemed as though the entirety of Downtown was illuminated from the work lights that were set up down by Ground Zero. Downtown glowed with lights that were set up to look for people that weren’t there anymore. The DJ on WFMU that night was playing a super slowed down cover of the B-52’s Song for a Future Generation. If you’ve heard it, you’ve probably laughed, it’s a ridiculously chirpy pop song. I’ve always loved it. The lyrics go a little like this:

Wanna be the ruler of the galaxy

Wanna be the king of the universe

Let`s meet and have a baby now

In between each stanza, the different members give spoken-word tidbits of information about themselves. For example Ricky, the original guitarist, was a Pisces and “loved computers and hot tamales.“ Ricky also died from AIDS back in 1985 when people still had no idea what the disease was.

The version I heard that night had slowed the tempo to that of a blues song. The dip-shit ironic hipster that sang it reflected this. Stuck on the bridge it felt as though I was listening to a lament. What reduced me to tears, smoking Winstons in my little Saturn station wagon, was the feeling that whatever was left of innocence had recently been or was about to be brutally murdered by pig-face, ignorant men. Wanna be the first lady of infinity. Wanna be the nicest guy on earth. Let's meet and have a baby now.

[lizzy-williams]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦.

★Warnings: SMUT, language, drug references, that good shit

★Theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTOiK8I2QsE

Cigarettes by Amir Obe

masterlist

★A/N: Holy shit my horny ass is too much- 

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗛𝗜𝗠. God, you hated him. You were but a simple tag along with the band, in charge of pyrotechnic ‘mumbo jumbo’ as he would call it. You were actually a cousin of Rook’s, and some how you got roped into everything. 

The worst part? The person you hated was your boss. Colson fucking Baker. An egotistical hot-head, in your opinion. But you did it for Rook, and Rook alone. He was your favorite family member, and you two were best friends as children, and best friends now. 

It was the night of the release of one of the singles Colson was working on for weeks. And now that it was finally out there, he took the group out to go out and party, including you. 

“Do this for Rook, do this for Rook” you would tell yourself over and over again as your car pulled up to the ‘special club’ Colson invited everyone to. 

But the big red neon sign grabbed your attention as you turned off the ignition and you felt like you were gonna vomit. 

“A strip club??” Rook said from the passenger seat, practically bouncing up and down like a child. 

You gave him a warning look, making him shut his mouth and look away. 

You took a deep breath in. “Do this for Rook, do this for Rook,”

As you walked in, you immediately were taken back by the scent of expensive cologne and cheap alcohol almost slapping you across the face. You saw neon lights everywhere, enough lighting to make anyone have a seizure.

You suddenly felt Rook take your hand, leading you to where he saw the rest of the gang. Everyone was sitting there, looking as tipsy as ever. Of course, you weren’t surprised. 

“Heyyy!” Colson raised his drink to Rook, a look of happiness crossing his face. 

“Hey short-fuse.” he said, unenthusiastically, making you roll your eyes.

You hated when he called you that. You weren’t usually so short with people. Some would say you were one of the sweetest people they’ve met. But with him, it was different. 

You let out a short, “Hi,” before you went to the bar to get a drink. 

You didn’t want to be a bitch to him all the time. In fact, you wanted to be his friend. You liked him. But his cocky attitude was the thing that you hated most, which was ultimately his downfall. 

Hopefully this wasn’t going to be a night that you would regret. 

The night had gone by slowly, Colson oggling at the half-naked girls on the poles. That seemed like the only way to catch his attention. Flash your tits, and your in.

Rook had already gone home with a girl, and you made sure that he was safe. Even though you knew your cousin could handle himself, it never stopped you from worrying. That was your job. You were like an older sister. 

You were now left with the rest of the band. As much as you hated to admit it, you were truly staying behind to make sure that Kells didn’t do anything stupid. 

Lo and behold, you heard the exact thing you were trying to prevent. You didn’t see the whole thing, but from what the rest of the band were yelling, it wasn’t fucking good. You pushed past the group surrounding the scene. 

There he was, straddling a guy and beating the shit out of him, his rings leaving gashes on his face. You bolted towards him, trying to pull him off the poor guy. 

“Kells, what the fuck are you doing?!! Get the fuck off!” You yelled, Baze and Slim doing their best to stop him as well. 

You then were slammed in the face by Colson’s elbow, your form stumbling back, your hand automatically going right where you were hit. 

THAT FUCKER BUSTED YOUR LIP. 

That’s when you about lost it, and by that time, Kells was pulled off the guy, the guys holding him back. You grabbed his ear, and despite the size difference, he was pliant as you pulled him to the front doors, stepping outside. 

“What the FUCK were you thinking?!” you yelled, not caring if anyone heard. 

“That prick kept trying to show me up by tipping one of the girls more. He got verbal, so I got physical.” he acted like it was no big deal and your blood boiled. 

“You could have been arrested.” you snapped back as you watched his eyes drift down to your lip. 

“Did that guy do that to you?” he asked, furious, pointing in the direction of the guy through the glass doors, “I’ll fucking kill him.” 

He gripped the handle to the door until you stopped him, “No. You did this.” you responded.

His face dropped, his eyes going soft, his hands reaching up and cupping your face. You pushed his hands away.

“You have a problem.”

“Oh, I have a problem.” he scoffed.

“You act on impulse, not logic, and that is a problem.” you retorted. 

He turned to the doors of the club, until you stopped him once again, making his gaze snap to yours. 

“No. No way in hell, I’m taking you home.”

“Why?” he asked, annoyed. 

“Because your drunk and I doubt the manager wants you in there anymore. Now get in my car.”

As much as he wanted you to be wrong, you were actually right. And he really, really, didn’t want to deal with law enforcement. 

“Fine.” he sighed out, walking over to your car and getting in the passenger side. 

Me: 1. Colson: 0

As you drove, you let out a sigh in defeat. You did over react. Even if you did have a split lip. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just... don’t want you to get in trouble. I care about you, and I know it might not always seem like it, but I do.” your words tumbled out of your mouth as you saw him look at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Thanks.” he mumbled. 

You gave Kells a few sympathetic looks as he looked out the window of your car, not bothering to say anything else. You couldn’t help but have a twinge of guilt. 

As your car pulled up to Colson’s house, you two awkwardly shuffled inside, Colson quiet. The silence was becoming overbearing. You walked to the kitchen, wetting a paper towel and placing it on your lip at an attempt of cleaning it. 

Colson just stood there, leaning up against the counter, and you could feel his gaze burning in the back of your neck. You turned around and saw him looking at you. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” you motioned, walking up the stairs as Colson begrudgingly followed. 

As you entered his room, you looked around. Christ, it was a mess. Bottles and clothes scattered about. 

“Jeez, at least get a maid,” you smiled at him, trying to be playful. 

Colson’s eyebrows furrowed, “Are you always going to criticize every single thing I do?” 

You looked for his usual twinkle in his eyes when he would say something playful towards you, but his glare was stone cold. 

“Well, I was trying to be nice!” you snapped back. 

“Yeah, for once!” 

“Bite me.” you growled. 

“I just might.” 

He suddenly grabbed you, making you let out a yell of anger. 

“Let me go, jackass!” you squirmed in his grip, but he wasn’t letting up. 

He held you until you calmed down, his body pressed up completely against yours. In a weird way, you felt better. You then realized the position you were in. You took note of his arms... and his hands. You had fantasize about those hands for as long as you could remember. 

You were able to turn around in his grip, and you were now face to face with him. You don’t know why you made your next action, but you did. You hugged him. 

And to your surprise, he hugged you back. Even though his impulsive acts made you angry at times, and he was a bad influence on your cousin in your opinion, you knew that someway, somehow, you had an attraction to the blond boy. 

You pulled away, “I gotta go home.”

“You don’t have to,” he muttered, his pupils blown wide with... lust?

“Colson,” you mumbled in a defeated tone. 

“Don’t go,” you heard him mutter, his lips almost touching yours. 

You were pissed off. He had all this time to make a move, and he’s deciding to do it now!? 

Fuck it.

You kissed him angrily, your hand gripping his shirt tightly as your lips danced with his, making him groan into your mouth. 

You had never acted like this. He was the only person that could make you act out like this. And you fucking loved it. As your senses were over-taken by want and lust, you swiftly unbuttoned his shirt, panting as he detached his lips and slipped your shirt over your head, you jeans some how magically unbuttoned and pulled down. 

You slipped out of everything, leaving the both of you in your underwear. All of his tattoos were on display, and normally you would look at them and admire them, maybe even counting them, but you were too wrapped up in your own scorching need to notice. 

You pulled on his arm, dragging him to the bed and shoving him down on the bed harshly. He wasn’t the only one angry, leaning up and grabbing your throat, reconnecting your lips for another ravenous kiss. 

You took his boxers off, discarding them behind you as you took off your own bra and underwear, pushing him back down, straddling him. Your pussy rubbed up against his hard shaft, making his groan at the contact. 

He suddenly flipped you both over, kissing you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulled off. 

He didn’t even bother to put a condom on. You knew you both wanted it fast, hard, and raw. He suddenly slipped in, making you let out a loud moan as he grunted in pleasure, relying on your slick to act as a lube. 

Soon he stared to angrily pound into you, both of you loving the sounds of the skin contact, Colson leaning down and kissing your neck harshly, sucking, licking, and biting as you heard him whisper deviously degrading words into your ear. 

“You like that huh? Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to take this tight pussy and make it mine?”

All you could do is let out noises of pleasure as he continued on, trust faster and harder with every time your core clenched around him. 

“Fuck-- I-I’m gonna... c-cum,” was all you could let out.

“Go on, babygirl, cum for me. Cum for me and know that I’m the only one who can make you feel this good,” he bit your earlobe.

“FUCK!!” you cried out, your core clenching around him as you felt yourself slip into your nirvana, your pussy gushing as you felt your mind go fuzzy. 

Your climax pushed your lover into his own, curses and repeats of your name spilling from his mouth like a prayer. 

As you both calmed down, he laid beside you as you caught your breath. 

“So. You think you like me just a little bit?” Colson asked snidely.

“Shut up, jackass.”

((This isn’t my best writing. Kinda hate it. Might delete it.))

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Spook-vengers Tower

Characters: Reader, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson (all platonic)

Inspiration: Halloween!

Warnings: None.

Summary: Your plan to host a Halloween party at the tower was sabotaged and so, you enlist the help of the mighty Avengers. What could go wrong?

It had been perfectly planned out from decorations to the catering and music - that was, until Baron Zemo attacked the tower the day before. It was a futile, and frankly petty, retaliation that he knew he would lose given that all Avengers were stationed at the base. The villain was quickly tossed out but the damage had been done to the top floor where you were meant to be hosting a Halloween party for the children of New York as a charity fundraiser.

With less than twenty-four hours on the clock you thought that a full home of superheroes could be wrangled together for the common cause to help fix the mess.

Oh, how you were wrong.

Yes, they banded like a team. And yes, they allocated specific tasks.

The only problem was that they appeared to be working according to their own time and party design post-tower fight. Your only saviour was Natasha who you trusted to pick up a themed-cake from Hell’s Kitchen without a fuss.

With the Black Widow out on a dessert mission, you found yourself watching the rest of the team put up the ‘emergency’ decorations after a quick clean up of shattered glass and broken tables.

“I don’t know if I should be in the kitchen, (Y/n). It’s a stressful place.” Bruce confessed a little sheepishly. You would have taken sympathy on the doctor but the man with multiple PhD’s had the easiest job. All he needed to do was follow the recipe for all the cold treats - you even organised the ingredients.

“Bruce. There’s literally nothing to bake or measure. And if following instructions to mix melted chocolate is too hard then you really don’t have a promising career as a chef.”

You hadn’t meant for it to sound snappy but his complaint came across as meagre. Of course, despite being overwhelmed with the volume of things happening, you weren’t a horrible person and your eyes caught themselves on the short, tousled brown hair of their youngest member. Peter had been carrying orange and black chairs three times his weight across the room when he spotted you waving him over. The young boy quickly set the chairs down by an overturned table and jogged over.

“(Y/n), this is going to be an amazing party. What can I do to help?”

His peppy voice and eager eyes managed to coax a brief smile from you and you gestured to the scientist standing to your side. “Think you can give Bruce a hand in the kitchen with the party treats?”

“Halloween candy preparation with the Hulk?” Peter clapped his hands together. “Count me in!”

Bruce gave a nervous laugh as he led his chatty partner back towards the kitchen. You took in a deep breath and closed your eyes hoping that you hadn’t just added to your list of problems. 

Ready to check on the rest of the preparation, you turned around and managed to take a step forward before Steve approached you with a pumpkin and a proud smile. He shifted the pumpkin ‘face’ around in his hands so you could see it.

“What do you think?”

A monkey - the man carved a damn monkey onto the hull of the vegetable. You glanced over his shoulder to the table and found that the primate wasn’t alone. It’s like he had created a pumpkin zoo.

“They’re meant to be scary.” You told him bluntly, no trace of an amused smile on your face. “Scary - not educational.”

Steve looked at his creation, shoulders and smile dropping a little. “Well, I thought that...”

“It’s pumpkin carving, you shouldn’t need to think when there’s less than fifteen hours until people arrive!”

The outburst came out louder than expected and drew the attention of the few in the room. Tony sauntered over and draped an arm around your shoulders, “You know, I think I might change my costume and just go as you. Honestly, it’s a lot more frightening.”

You heard a roar of laughter from the God of Thunder by the balcony and shot him a scathing look that made the man swallow down any further jests in pure fear. Tony gestured to the newfound silence, emphasising his point. “See?”

You lifted his arm and freed yourself from his carefree attitude with a huff. It was difficult enough that your earlier preparations were ruined and now the team - who usually had your back when villains rained hell - were treating this like a joke.

“Lighten up, (Y/n). We’re going to have a great ‘Spooky Town Monster Mash’.” Clint commented as he attached some fake cobwebs to an arrow. With his eyes cast down, he couldn’t see how furious you were when he got the name of the party wrong - and you had repeated it several times in the last week! 

The avenger aimed his bow high above the elevator door and let it the loaded arrow fly until it hit its mark and splattered the white cotton messily against the wall. The only thing he succeeded in doing was jamming the doors as they attempted to close - the mechanics whirring and grinding loudly. 

The Hawkeye pursed his lips and hummed at what had just unfolded. “I think your decorations are a little dodgy.” He assumed despite it being clear that his idea to use his weapons indoors backfired.

You were raging at this point and probably just about to scream at the top of your lungs when there was the distinct beep of an incoming message was heard through the room. A holographic screen appeared in the centre of the room with the familiar faces of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. All eyes were drawn to it and Steve paused what he was doing as he stepped forward.

“Hey guys.” Sam greeted in a quick whisper, eyes glancing around the figures in the room before landing on the blonde-haired man. “We’ve tracked Zemo to an abandoned medical facility but he’s got more friends than the two of us can handle and-”

Suddenly, the Falcon was nudged aside as Bucky leaned in closer. “Did you carve a monkey on that pumpkin?” He asked with a frown. Steve glanced down at the orange vegetable in his hands and racked his brain for a response when Sam took charge of the call once more, pushing his co-Avenger out of frame.

“So, can you spare a helping hand?”

Straightening his shoulders, the Captain nodded. “I’m on it.” He confirmed and waved his hand to close the projection. He had just turned to ask if there were any volunteers when you stormed past him in a blur.

“I’ll go.” You said quickly, leaving no room to argue. “This tower is a nightmare.”

Almost two hours later, you found yourself wrapping the last five of Zemo’s henchmen together with some rope while narrating how their boss destroyed your event which was being ruined further by your friends.

“...so, you can’t blame me for wanting to throw one of them off the tower, right? All I wanted was a fun night for the children.”

The henchmen looked at each other confused and gave a small grunt in reply. It didn’t really answer you but at least it meant that they were listening. You fastened the rope together and began to talk again about classic Halloween parties when Sam and Bucky returned. They jogged past the knocked out soldiers until they reached you.

“Zemo took off.” Bucky sighed, head shaking with disappointment.

You couldn’t blame him or Sam, sometimes the bad guy got away but it just meant that you’d be ready to strike them down when they resurfaced.

“We’ll get another shot at him.” You smiled.

Sam nudged his friend in the metal arm and chuckled. “Come on, we’ve got a Halloween party to get to.”

And just like that - you remembered why you came on this mission.

“Can’t we just stay here or go out for a drink instead of going back home?” You asked only for Sam to laugh and shake his head.

“Not a chance. Friends don’t let friends attend party disasters alone.”

Bucky perked up at the change of topic and sent you a sympathetic smile. “(Y/n) you just took out twenty armed henchmen. The party has nothing on you.”

You would have stayed to argue the point further but it would have been futile as the duo refused to step back. With a reluctant sigh, you agreed to return to the tower and found yourself standing in front of the tenth floor doors, mentally preparing yourself for the chaos inside.

Alright, let’s get this over with. You thought and pushed the wooden panels wide open.

The first thing you saw was a bright orange and black banner hanging across the balcony window reading ‘Happy Halloween’. Then your eyes dropped lower to a confectionary table that was decorated and hosted party snacks, including a mystical bowl of fruit punch that sent plumes of smoke over the edges until it fell into nothing. Children were laughing and screaming and you noticed the spookily-carved pumpkins - not a monkey in sight!

“What the...?”

Tony strolled over and handed you a glass of red wine. “Welcome to Spook-vengers Tower.” He smiled, taking a sip.

You watched a few children run around and play while some pulled down the fake webs and others grabbed as much candy as possible. When you had left, this place was a shamble so the turn around was surprising until you spotted a few of the Avengers by the table.

“Nat put the fear of god into you, didn’t she?”

Tony smacked his lips together, enjoying the beverage. “Like you have no idea.”

Masterlist here

[libraryofloveletters]

Heir To The Throne

Chapter 2: Secrets 

There comes a day where all fathers pass their business down to their children. This was no ordinary business, this was the mafia. You were the sole heir to the throne and you didn’t want it. Your father’s right hands Derek and Aaron are tasked with convincing you otherwise, the last thing you expected to do was fall in love.

Mafia AU

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader, Derek Morgan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cemeteries, mentions of garvez, loss of a sibling and parent, smoking, mentions of death, alcohol and the consumption of, little bit of Matt x reader, mentions of sex and sex references, kissing, swearing, guns and use of, threats, breakups 

Word Count: 3.2k

Author’s Note: a chapter gives you a bit of a better insight on everyone! chapter 3 will be on its way soon!! 

Masterlist /// Chapter 1  /// Chapter 3

----

Fog filled the cemetery as Luke drove through the giant iron gates. He was outside when you had come down and offered to drive you. 

You glanced over at the man who had a permanent scowl on his face. “How’s Penelope?” you ask him, a little curl at the edge of his lips appeared. “Oh dude, you totally like her!” you squealed and hit his arm playfully. 

“Shut up y/n, we’re just friends. She’s fine” he answered you, pulling over by the tree. “Just fine?” you questioned and he nodded. 

“Didn’t sound like she was ‘just fine’ last night” wiggling your eyebrows at him, he gave you a stern look. You raised your hands playfully, “your secret is safe with me grumpy” you smiled and turned towards the window. 

Luke placed his hand on your shoulder, you glanced over at him. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” he said, you reached up and gave his hand a squeeze before shaking your head. 

“I’m alright. I won't be long.” 

“Take your time” 

Stepping out of the car after grabbing the bunches of flowers you had, you walked down the pathway to your mother’s grave. You replaced the old flowers that sit beside her tombstone, which you could only assume had been put there by your father, and brushed off dust from the top. Stepping away, you walked down a bit further and sat on the ground in front of a tombstone. 

James Rossi 

1989 - 2015 

Beloved son, brother and friend.

Setting the bunch of flowers beside the tombstone, you let out a sigh. “So I slapped Derek last night. I know it was wrong but he was talking about you like it wasn't his fault.” your hand ran across his name on the stone. “It’s not my fault though, I tried to control myself but he was being a bitch and don’t even get me started on Emily.” you rolled your eyes, “I threw a bottle at her head but she deserved it so I'm not going to apologize for that.” A wind blew through the cemetery, you brushed away the few leaves that fell by the flowers. “Oh! Luke and Penny are totally hooking up and yes, he’s still as grumpy as he was the last time you..” sighing, cutting your sentence short. “Anyways, she seems to make him happy and I'm happy for him” you glanced over your shoulder, you could see Luke standing outside the car on the phone and smoking. 

“I’ll come around more often J, I'll try and get dad to come too. I love you always” you pressed a kiss to your fingers and then pressed it to the stone before getting up. You brushed off the grass and dirt from your legs and headed back to the car. 

“She's coming back, I’ll talk to you later and I love you more” you could hear Luke say to whoever was on the other end of the call. Smiling at him, “tell pens I said hi, lover boy” Luke shot you a glare before you hopped in the car. 

“Stop eavesdropping” he turned the car around, you looked out the window and replied to him, “not my fault you decided to declare your love to miss Garica as I came back” Luke chuckled at your statement. 

“You’re annoying” 

“Oh you love me Al” 

He shook his head and drove back to the villa. Upon arriving home, he excused himself back to the armoury, or so he said. Luke didn’t realize that you too, had seen Penelope waiting down by the garden for him. Heading inside, your father’s laugh was the first thing you heard. 

He hadn't laughed like that since your mother passed. 

As you walked down the foyer, a woman's voice echoed through the empty hallway. “Dave stop it!” she laughed, you pushed the door to the dining hall open. Dave and a blonde woman sat side by side having lunch. “Oh bella, I didn’t realize you’d be back already” your father stood up from his chair as you walked in. “Yeah, I didn't want to stay too long today, I have things to do. Sorry for interrupting, I didn't realize we had company” 

“I, have company, not you” Dave corrected you, “but since you’re here, y/n, this is Krystall. Krystall, this is my daughter y/n” your father introduced the woman to you. She stuck her hand out and you shook it. “Nice to meet you” she smiled and you gave her a nod. 

“Please continue, I'm just here for a drink and then I'm off” you spoke as you walked towards the bar, filling a glass with some whiskey. You pressed a kiss to your father's cheek and walked out. 

“What the actual fuck was that?” you mumbled, walking down the staircase to the basement. 

The hallway lights had been turned off, you fumbled around and felt the wall until finding the switch. There were boxes and crates stacked on each other and lined up against the wall, a light peaked through a crack in the door at the end of the hall. Pushing it open, Spencer sat at a table and Tara’s back was turned to you. “Hello my darlings” you shouted, making Spencer jump. 

“Fucking hell, I told you stop doing that!” he shouted at you, you walked over and ruffled his hair. 

“Calm down pretty boy, no need to stress yourself out” you walked over to Tara, you slung your arm around her shoulder, “hey pretty lady” 

“Hello to you too, what brings you down here to see us?” she asked you, her eyes on the screen in front of her. 

“Other than the fact that my father is entertaining a woman upstairs and I didn’t want to hear nor see that ?” you cringed, “I just missed your beautiful faces” you laughed. 

“So you finally met Krystall ?” Spencer piped up from his table, dividing the cash in front of him, you looked over at your cousin. 

“Finally met her ? How long have you known about her ?” 

“A few weeks ? according to Penelope, she’s been around for a few months because uncle Dave asked her to give Krystall a code for the gate” 

“What?! And you didn't think to tell me?!” you screamed at him. Spencer shouted back at you, “I thought you knew!”  

“Obviously not!” you yelled again, “Spencer some random woman has the gate code to our home and you didn’t think to mention that to me?! She could be here to kill us for all you know!” 

 Spencer rolled his eyes at you, “No need to get your panties in a twist cousin, I'm sure Krystall isn’t here to kill us. She’s a harmless woman, and would it be so bad for your father to start seeing someone ? Maybe he’d finally get off you back about taking over.” 

“Spencer, are you crazy ? This is the worst possible thing, she’s gonna drag him off to some island and leave me here to be in charge. I despise that idea, you know that.” rolling your eyes, your cousin sighed, 

“Just talk to him if you don't like it, you idiot, but shut up now. Not all of us can spend our day shopping with daddy’s money, we have a job to do” he said, turning his attention back to the money, his statement made Tara laugh. 

“Okay fuck you too Spencer, I'll see you two for dinner ? We’re still good for 10 right ?”  

“Sounds good” Tara and Spencer said simultaneously, your brows furrowed, “that was weird but okay. Laters babes” you headed out and ventured back up the stairs and out the door. Emily and JJ stood in the clearing on the grass with maybe 10 or 12 young guys, you could only assume they were the newest recruits to your father’s so called army. Entering at the other side of the building, Matt was in the armoury smoking a blunt. “Is this what I'm paying you for Simmons ?” you walked in, Matt sat up from his seat, he was zoned out but he heard the voice and assumed it was your father, you knew that for sure. 

“No boss, I'm sor- are you kidding?” he saw you standing there with a rather amused look on your face, you bit your lip as you held back a laugh. “Does my father scare you Matt ?” you asked, taking the blunt from him and took a pull. 

“No?” he said, truthfully that sounded more like a question rather than an answer. 

“And the truth ?” you sat down, propping your feet up on the table. 

“Yes” he leaned on the table across from you, you laughed while leaning forward to pass the blunt back to him. “Scaredy cat” you smiled at him, Matt rolled his eyes “you have nothing to worry about, you’re his daughter” 

“Doesn’t mean I’m untouchable” 

“Yeah, it does, actually” 

“Mhm, if I'm untouchable, what happened the other night with you ?” you raised your brows, Matt blushed. “Not what I meant” he said, you stood up and walked towards him. 

“Did I make you blush ?” you slung your arms over his shoulders, your hands coming up to his hair at the nape of his neck, “no of course you don’t, I think it's the other way around” Matt’s hands were on your waist, he lifted you up onto the table. 

“Why are you even in here? Where’s Luke ?” you twirled his hair with your fingers, Matt’s forehead rested against yours, “he’s making out with Penelope in the garden” Matt stated casually.

Pulling away slightly, you looked at him, “what ?” 

“Oh fuck, you didn't know” Matt’s eyes went wide. 

Of course you knew, but Matt didn't know that you knew about Luke and Penelope. 

“I know about them, you can relax” you laughed, “Luke would've killed you if I didn't already know though” your hands cupped Matt’s face. Matt leaned forward, your lips barely touching his. His hands on your lower back, pulling you towards him and closed the gap between the two of you. Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt as his lips moved from your lips to your cheek and then to your neck. 

“Luke I need a g- oh” Derek's voice rang through the room. Matt pulled away from you, he looked like a deer in headlights.

You on the other hand, were as Matt said, untouchable. 

Matt buttoned his shirt back up, “um Luke’s out but I can get you what you need” he told Derek who was still standing at the door watching the scene in front of him unfold. Hopping off the counter, you wiped the lipstick off Matt's lips with your thumb and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I'll see you around love” 

--

Derek stood off to the side as Matt gathered the things he needed. “Does Dave know what you're doing with his daughter ?”

“I don't see how that concerns him” Matt’s back was turned to him, his response made Derek roll his eyes. 

“If you want to keep your fucking job, you’ll watch yourself” 

“And what does that mean ?” Matt turned, handing him the gun. Derek rolled his eyes, playing with the trigger of the gun. “It means stay away from her or I'll make sure you do.” spinning on his feet, he walked towards the door.

“What’s your issue with me dude ? y/n doesn’t even like you so why are you acting like this ?” 

Derek stopped in his tracks. his back still facing Matt, “and what do you know about how y/n feels towards me?” 

Matt scoffed, “after what happened to her brother, you think she’ll let you tell her what to do with her life?” 

The mention of James triggered something in Derek. James was one of his friends, his best friend in a way. What happened to James wasn’t his fault and he knew that. Derek had spent the last few years trying to get over that very thing. 

“What did you just say to me ?” Derek turned to face him,

“Her brother, his death was your fault wasn’t it ?” Matt repeated himself.

Derek shoved him back slightly, “watch yourself” he mumbled, he really wasn't in the mood to fight with Matt. 

“Or what ?” Matt challenged him and one thing you should never do, is challenge Derek. He has a habit of making his point no matter what. The muzzle of the gun pressed to the side of Matt’s head, Derek’s hand gripping to the collar of his shirt. 

“Let’s try that again” Derek gave him a smug smile. 

“Woah! Der, stop!” Aaron ran in, pulling Derek away from Matt. The gun was still pointed in Matt’s direction, Aaron looked over at Matt and nodded towards the door, Matt running out the door without looking back. 

“Okay, what the fuck was that about D?” 

Aaron took the gun from him and set it aside. Derek shook his head but Aaron knew him better than that, something was bothering him. “I know you man, you wouldn't pull a gun on him for no reason, what’s up ?” 

“It’s stupid” 

“C’mon” 

“It’s James” Derek muttered, his eyes focused on anything, anything that would keep him from looking at Aaron. 

“How- What ? How is that possible ? He shouldn't even- he couldn’t know about that” Aaron was confused, more than usual to tell you the truth. There was no way Matt could know about James, unless.. 

Aaron at Derek who was now looking at him. “Y/n..” he whispered, Derek nodded. 

“Did he say anything else ?” 

“Just that she didn’t like me” 

“Don’t take it to heart, she doesn't like anyone” Aaron gave his shoulder a pat before walking out. Derek stood in the middle of the armoury by himself. There were so many things he needed to fix, to mend, to make right so he could move on. Luke brows furrowed as he walked in, “can I help you ?” his voice startled Derek, “no, I'm good. Just came for this” picking up the gun and tucking it into the waistband on his pants.

--

The drive over was quiet, Derek stopped at the front by the gates and walked the rest of the way. It wasn’t cold but it wasn't warm either and the trees blocked the sun out. This place always gave him the creeps and you’d think a big, strong guy wouldn't get scared that easily but he couldn’t help it.

For the second time today, James had gotten a visitor. 

Derek stood in front of the tombstone. He wasn’t quite sure why he was there, maybe it was the mention of James’s death being his fault or just because his guilty conscience was getting to him. 

“I don’t know why I'm here, honestly. I haven’t been back here since your funeral man, I just- I couldn't.” Derek sighed. 

“It’s not my fault right ? you told me to go, I begged you to let me stay with you and you didn't let me.” he ran his hand over his face, “Your sister blames me. She thinks it’s my fault and she told her stupid little boy toy that.” 

The flowers caught his eye, red roses. 

“Your sister came to see you today didn't she? wait,” Derek chuckled “I'm asking you like you can answer me” he shook his head. 

“Do you know I’ve been getting her roses for her birthday for the past 5 years ? Red roses just like you used to. She doesn't know it’s from me though, she thinks they’re from your father” Derek sighed. 

“I don’t know why, I just- you know what ? I do know. I like her J, I do, like a lot.” he laughed, “holy fuck, I've never said that. I didn’t- wow” Derek paced back and forth for a few moments, he debated if he should tell her or not. She already hates him, what difference does it make ?

--

The heels clicked on the marble tiles as you walked down the staircase. You were just about to head out for dinner with Spencer and Tara when Matt walked past you. 

“Hey! I'm leaving, why are you going upstairs ?” you stopped, turning back and looking up at him. His back was to you, you could hear him sigh. 

“Matt, what’s wrong?” you walk up a few steps towards him, you reach for his hand but he pulls away. 

“y/n.. we can’t do this anymore” 

“What ? What are you talking about?” 

“This,” he refers to you and him, “we can’t keep doing this. You’re going to lead this shit one day and you can’t spend all your time with me, there has to be something more for you.” 

“Where’s this coming from ? What’s going on?” 

Matt didn’t say anything else, instead he met you in the middle of the staircase. His hands cupped your face, “I'm sorry” he whispered before giving you one last kiss. Your forehead rested against his, your hand on his. He stepped back, your hand still on his, he pulled away until your fingers were barely touching, he finally stepped away, leaving you there by yourself. 

There were so many questions. 

Why ? What had happened ? Did your father say something to him ? What was the reason ? Did Derek tell him something ? 

“Bitch, let’s go. We’re running late, Luke and Penelope are already on their way there” Spencer shouted for you from the bottom of the staircase. Your eyes fixed on the top of the stairs, you sighed and shook the feeling, turning towards Spencer with a smile on your face.

“Where’s Matt ? I thought he was coming with us ?” Tara asked as she walked over to the two of you. You shook your head, “he’s not feeling well” you lied, they both knew something was going on between the two of you but you weren't in the mood for it tonight. 

You just wanted one last night out with your family as a 21 year old. 

---

Ahh chapter 2 is done! how do we feeling ? I have something exciting in store for chapter 3! 

Taglist: @mac99martin @aaron-hotchner187 @tclaerh @luke-alvez @iconicc @lieberhers @pumpkin-reads @katexrichardson @sluttytears @thelukealvez @scandinavian-punk @laurenxreynolds @morcias​ @shotarosleftpinky​ @mrs-dr-reid​ @hqtchner​ @averyhotchner​ @ssahoodrathotchner​ @willlemonheadsupremacy​ @ssa-autumn-hotchner​ @potter-reid​ @sunshinepower17​ @emilysbau

[atomicblasphemy]

Blight Industries Board Meeting

I have some thoughts about that EE episode. Being myself I just couldn’t put them out in a sensible fashion, so I put on some crust in my headphones, amped everyone’s cynicism, and here’s the result.

                                                       O: Good evening everyone and welcome to the Blight Industries board meeting of number...            

Ed and Em shoot glances at each other as confused about how they ended up there as when it happened for the first time.            

Al looks longingly at his workshop door.            

Amity glares.            

Am: Mom, can we try to have dinner like a normal family which, according to Merriam-Webster at least, we technically are? For once at least?            

O: That can wait, Mittens. Anyway, I called you all here to announce I shall be making some changes to our company. Namely, I shall change the job titles of the three of you. I’m still CEO, Alador still development, research and, well, the assembly line I suppose. As for you, Emira, Edric, you’re now in charge of security. I don’t want to hear about company secrets leaking out, okay? Mittens, you’re our new marketing department.            

Am: Marketing?            

Em: Seriously, mom?            

Od: Dearests, this is a meeting please use our appropriate titles.            

Ed: No no no no. They have a point. Okay, let me see if I understand your thought process. So, you’re the head of a company, right?            

Od: I don’t like your tone, Edric. But okay, I’ll humor you. Yes I am, go on.            

Ed: And said company essentially sells only guns.            

Od: Mhmm, what’s your point?            

Ed: And you think that the best way to convey that is by using your local annoyed teenage lesbian that half the time looks like she would be rather doing literally anything else? Is that a correct assessment, ma’am?            

Od: Oh, and I suppose you have a better idea?            

Em: Yeah, we do. ANYONE ELSE. We *frantically and repeatedly points her finger from herself to Edric*  could do this, I mean we tried to leak our sister’s journal just a few weeks ago so we clearly know nothing about keeping secrets. You could do it. I mean, no offense, but putting up a show seems to be your only useful skill because if this your idea of how to run a company, we... aaaaand now I’m suddenly starting to realize where we get our decision making incompetence from. Anyway. This guy *points at Alador* could do it if you just made sure to remind him that that’s what’s funding his little research. Heck, you could hire Luz. She’s pretty charismatic and just took a shot at the Emperor himself. I’m sure having someone like that vouching for our products would do wonders for our business. See? That’s how you make a half-decent marketing strategy. Besides, I hear Luz could use the money and I’m sure Mittens would be happy to have her working here.            

Am: Yup, normally I’d have other reasons but honestly I’d just be happy someone else is doing this particular job.            

Al: *woop there goes gravity* Why? I told you this wasn’t the best idea. Besides, we agreed, twice at least, that I would take care of the abominations and you’d be in charge of everything else *leans in closer to whisper conspiratorially to Odalia* I don’t like dealing with them *points at their very loving children*.            

Ed, Em, and Am: HEY!            

Al: *sighs* Listen to your boss, children.            

The children huddle closer, they are the conspiratorial ones now.            

Am: We’re gonna end up broke and starving, aren’t we?            

Em: Yeah, isn’t it weird though? I mean, you’d think they’d have found someone better to... sponsor by now. Apparently that’s not the case. Moreover, why do they, our parents I mean, keeping putting so many resources into product development then? And it’s not even like we’re branching out into new markets, making some groundbreaking products. Nope, just shinier versions of the old stuff.            

Am: Hum... Can either of you teach me how to write a resume?            

Ed: I... uh... was going to ask you the same thing.            

--------------------------            

Later.            

Em: Okay, let’s recap the recent events, shall we?            

Odalia and Alador were sat side by side in flimsy wooden chair at the factory’s storage area. Their children loomed over them with stern faces.            

Am: First off, you decided to entirely restructure the company, you know, the one with our name in it. And you did so by making all possible wrong choices. Especially putting me as the face and head of marketing.            

Ed: Then, secondly, when you realized that wasn’t working due to Mittens, justifiably I might add, wanting to do pretty much anything else with her time. So you two in a strike of parenting brilliance decide that the best way to deal with all of that was not to, oh I don’t know, hire some specialist or anything like that for the position and let her, and us, be teenagers like any normal parent would do. No, instead you think: “Hey, I’ll double down and alienate the one of my children giving me a hard time from the only people she seems to like.”            

Al: In our defense...            

Em: AND THEN, when one of said people decide to actually do something about, and in a very diplomatic fashion given the circumstances, mind you, you go ahead and try to commit murder in front of a large audience of potential witnesses. Granted, not a particularly morally upstanding audience given the type of products they were trying to buy, but still. Do you have any idea how many people would want a piece of you if you actually hurt the human? You have three of them standing in front of you right now.            

Od: Well, Emira dearest, you can’t argue with the numbers. Tonight’s sale was an astounding success.            

Am: And she still has her poise despite all the failures... Look, the three of us, we’ve been talking. We somehow are also part of the board, right? Moreover, we are, despite all evidence on the contrary, still employs of this company. So we put things through a vote.            

Ed: First off, we’re unionizing. And your first demand is better working conditions...            

Od: I’m not putting apple blood fountains in the factory floors. That’s off the table. I already told this Edric. The abominations take a surprising liking to the stuff.            

Em: We can discuss the specifics later. We have other topics at hand.            

Al: Okay, like what?            

Em: You two are out. Actually just you mom. We still need dad for development of new products and stuff.            

Od: WHAT? You can’t do this.            

Am: Let me rephrase what Emira said: you’re not CEO anymore. She is.            

Al and Od: EMIRA?            

Ed: Yes, Emira. I’ll be in charge of supply and distribution as well as any other duties dad still had besides research and develop. Mom, you’re the new Mittens. I mean, marketing. You’re in charge of marketing now. Just marketing and literally nothing else. I’m sure we won’t regret giving you this much responsibility. And, by the way. One mistake and we’re hiring Luz for the job. AND we’re giving her enough shares to sit at the board.            

Od: *starts chuckling while reaching for a small book in her vest* I can’t say I’m not angry at the three of you, but it is indeed nice to see you trying to take a more active role in the company. But there’s a big flaw to your little coup. You see, according to article 15 of the Blight Industries statute, Alador’s vote, as well as mine...            

Al: I’m voting with them, Odalia.            

Everyone else turns to look at him, wide eyed.            

Al: Look, I’m not ecstatic about this or anything. But at the end of day if Edric is taking half the load off my shoulders then I’ll have the more time in my workshop. And away from them. Odalia, don’t look at me like that, I told you the other day I was wanting us to develop magic powered air fryers. Now I’ll have the time for that. We can tap onto more markets this way, more money.            

Od: ... You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.            

Al: *sighs* How about Mittens, what will she do now?            

Am: Librarian. That’ll be my new job title.            

Al: We have no use for a librarian, Amity. You know that, don’t you?            

Am: I know. I’m not working here anymore. Gary had been telling me for some time about this internship opening. I start Monday. But don’t go thinking I’ll leave the board. I’m keeping my shares and besides, Ed and Em agreed to keep me as an adviser.            

Od: Oh look at our daughter, Alador. Going all out on that daily grind, making the minimum wage. Are you sure you can handle it, Mittens my dear?            

Am: Well, you paid me in passive aggressive comments and threats so far. I consider minimum wage a raise if anything.            

Od: Whatever you say... In any case. I suppose I’ll now be some sort of glorified secretary then.            

Em: What do you mean, mom?            

Od: Oh, right. You weren’t there at the time. We struck a big contract, big enough so we won’t need to worry about marketing for the foreseeable future.            

Em: What? HOW?            

Al: That uhh... That kid, what’s his name again? The new head of the Emperor’s coven. He came in after the sales ended, said we should go around building Frankenstein mercenaries, and that the Emperor would be buying all of our Thanos thingies aaand on top of that the state would fund all our future research.            

Ed and Em: Oh... Oh... Ohh Titan... Didn’t he get ahold of Eda’s portal? Mittens, we have to tell Luz.            

Am: *chuckles* Yeah, good luck with that, Emperor.            

Ed: I... Are you okay? Shouldn’t you be worried?            

Am: Eh... I mean... First things first. Yeah, I know he’s building an army to invade the human realm and yeah, I know we’ll be supplying the weaponry and that I should probably give Luz a heads up. But, you know. That’s pretty stupid of him when you think about it.            

Ed: What?            

Am: I mean, think about it. He is getting a supplier that he knows, for a fact, has a positive connection to his enemies. Meaning it would be in our interest - especially mine, you know, the other Blight with Abomination know how and the one closest to the one human living in the Boiling Isles, as proven today - to put some back doors in all the tech we’ll be selling them. Moreover... Sure humans don’t have magic but they make up for it in other ways. Luz was telling me about her realm the other day and... Well... Let me put it this way: we are not humans, meaning we are not covered by the Geneva convention. Best case scenario once Bellos opens the portal we, not them, become a colony. And humans don’t make a habit of treating their colonies with any decency. So, you know... Anyway. Worst case scenario, they’ll just start pumping napalm, anthrax, mustard gas, and all sorts of fun stuff chemical and biological weapons through the portal. Meaning we’ll die. Painfully. Heck, they can even make good on their anti-nuclear proliferation treaties and just throw it all here and make it go boom. Trust me, that alone will be enough to finish sinking the Titan.            

All the other four Blights look at her wide eyed.            

Am: Eh... But you know, I’ll go and tell Luz and Eda. Fir witchkind’s sake or whatever. So... See you guys later.            

Od: *shaking the shock away from her head* Oh... Quite a hurry to go and see Luz, aren’t we Mittens? *a sly smile forming* I’m sorry... I meant YOUR Luz.            

Ed and Em: Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Damn, missed the joke.            

Al just nods in agreement.            

Am: What are you people talking about?            

Od: Oh, it’s nothing really Mittens, my dear child. It’s just that, you seem to be rather attached to her, aren’t you? In a very weird way, but still.            

Am: Weird? Weird how? You’re talking non-sense.            

Ed: No, Mittens, the lady has a point. I don’t get your thought process tonight either.            

Am: I have no idea what...            

Ed: No, seriously. I mean, no need to beat around the bush here: you have a gargantuan crush on her. That’s plenty obvious to everyone here.            

Am: *blushing* No comments.            

Ed: Whatever, I’ll take that to mean you do. So, you see your crush up on the stage. She’s fighting dad’s Thanos thingy. Which, might I add, was being controlled by him. Seriously, what the hell, dude? Is this a way to meet your potential daughter-in-law? Anyway. She’s potentially in mortal danger. And your first thought is: I’m gonna woo her.            

Am: That’s... not what I thought...            

Em: Yeah, Mittens. Sure. That’s why the first you did was to turn around and start climbing the ladders.            

Am: I... They were fighting up there, I wanted to get to close quarters.            

Em: Nope. Not buying it.            

Ed: We were watching it all unfold Mittens, you started climbing the ladders before, long before, they were up there.            

Am: But... the crowd.            

Ed: Dispersed pretty quickly, and knowing Abomination magic, as you do, you definitely knew Thanos would have that effect.            

Am: I... But... I wanted to fight close quarters... and I wanted... the higher ground.            

Em: So... You are up in the pipes, and by then Luz and Thanos are already back in ground level. So you position yourself in the spot with the best lighting and a means for you to quickly climb down - I swear, I’m certain I saw you double checking to make sure you were positioned just right. Then you take your sweet time pulling your hood back up. And finally, then and only then, you go to Luz’s rescue by using your magic. And you do that before you climb down, meaning your magic has enough range, as we’ve all always known, to be effective without the close  quarters or the higher.            

Ed: Come on, Mittens. Just admit it. You wanted to do a super-hero landing in front of your crush. Come on...            

Am: I... Do you think it worked?            

Everyone, expect for Amity, looks at Alador.            

Al: I dunno, why are you asking me?            

Ed: Because somehow out of all of us you’re the one most likely to pick up that sort of stuff.            

Al: Right, and I’m also the one least likely to care.            

Am: I’M YOUR DAUGHTER.            

Em: *taking a deep breath* Okay, lets pause for a second here. Ed, Mittens. Pat yourselves on the back. Come on, do it. Look, I’ll do it too. *begins  patting her own back in tandem with her siblings’ more tentative display*            

Am: Em... Why are we doing this?            

Em: For not succumbing to drugs and alcohol (shrewd ad campaigns on Twitter aside). *Edric and Amity begin patting their backs more enthusiastically, Emira turns to their parents* You know, you two. You should pat yourselves on the back as well. I mean, sure, we’ll need years of therapy to undo all the damage the emotional neglect the both of you show us has caused so far, but no one can say we don’t get plenty of variety.            

Al: Are you done being passive aggressive, Emira?            

Em: What can I say? I’ve learned from the best. *looks at Odalia, who just rolls her eyes*            

Al: *sighing* As for your previous question. The human seemed to be blushing as well. So my best guess is that Amity’s little... spectacle... did work.            

Od: See? And you dare say it was a bad idea to put her on marketing.            

Am: That’s because I had a reason to care when I was doing all that.            

Od: Ohh right, then what do you suggest I had done to make you care about our, emphasis on our, business.            

Am, Ed and Em in unison: Pay us for our labor.            

Am: I mean, seriously. You guys built a whole business model around Abominations: a.k.a. free labor. Sure you could afford to pay us, a.k.a. self aware creatures that are not (and I’ve checked this) Abominations, something.            

Ed: So... again to recap the day. Mom and dad lost their company, Bellos shot himself square in the foot. Hell, even this new coven head pretty much proved his lack of intelligence gathering competence by doing business with us. Today was a failure on every front. Even Luz when you think about it.            

Em: Luz?            

Ed: Yeah... She trusted... her *points at Odalia*.            

Em: Ohh...            

Od: HEY! I’m still your mother.            

Em: Nominally, maybe. Jury still out on that one. Anyway, that reminds me. I want all our financial books for the past five years i my desk, formerly yours, in two days.            

Am: I think my day was pretty successful. I have reason to believe my crush likes me back and I’ll know what a healthy professional and financial life looks like for the first in these 14 groolling and long years of existence. So things are looking up for me. Anyway... Are we done here?            

Am: I guess so, why?            

Am: Cool. Gonna head out.            

Em: Oh, going to let your Luz know of the Emperor’s plan and bask in her presence.            

Am: Emira, I swear in the Titan’s name that if you ever address her like that in front of her they will never find your body. But yes, that’s the gist of it.            

Em: Fine. Actually, wait up. Lilith is living there now isn’t she? I wanted to talk to her.            

Am: Lilith as in Lilith Clawthorne? Eda’s sister? Former head of the Emperor’s Coven? My former mentor? That Lilith?            

Em: Yup.            

Am: Why, pray tell, do you want to talk to her?            

Em: Wanted to hire her. We need a new accountant.            

Am: And you thought of her because...?            

Em: Lack of options?            

Am: I... You know what, fair enough.            

Ed: Hold up. I’m coming with. I don’t like being around them *points at Odalia and Alador*.            

Am: Sure.            

They leaving. Only Odalia and Alador are left in the room.            

Al: Wow.            

Od: I know.            

Al: Just... wow...            

Od: I know.            

Al: I don’t know how to process any of this. It happened all so fast.            

Od: I know.            

Al: Like... no sense of pacing at all.            

Od: I know, Alador. Titan do I know.            

Al: Almost as if everyone’s words were being written by an extra-dimentional entity that reaaally wanted to rant but didn’t want to put out their opinions in a more reasonable manner, and wasn’t even remotely concerned with making it sound like a normal conversation.            

Od: I know.            

Al: Anyway. We failed as people, didn’t we?            

Od: *sighing* I know.            

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 278: MOMO IN CHARGE

Previously on BnHA: Deku and Kacchan were all “SIR, THAT’S OUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT SENSEI” and got really ferocious and made a very passionate attempt to blow Tomura up and it was great. It basically did nothing, but it was still great. AFO was all “COME HERE LIL BRO”, and Tomura was all “silly Sensei, you can’t just take over my mind and body just like that”, and he was very confident of this despite there really being no evidence to back it up, but okay! Gran was all “time to make the fandom mad at me” and grabbed Tomura by the collar and yelled at him about Nana a bit, and then Bakugou and Endeavor made an even MORE passionate attempt to blow up Tomura, which may or may not have done some actual damage. The chapter ended with Gigantomachia battling Mt. Lady, just kinda out of the blue, which is FINE, but she had better be all right, though!

Today on BnHA: Everyone is all “WAUGHH IT’S GIGANTOMACHIA” and running around freaking out about it. The U.A. alums all kick some ass, and pretty much everyone else not from U.A. does jack fucking shit. Mt. Lady, who I plan on naming all of my future children after, does her best to stop Machia but he keeps flinging her aside. Kamui Woods is all “here I come with Midnight to put Gigantomachia to sleep!” and is PROMPTLY FUCKING MURDERED!? by Dabi because he’s a flammable tree man, and so Midnight falls all the way to the ground and is badly injured. So then she’s all “well I better call the most competent person I can think of to fix this mess” and dials up YAOYOROZU FUCKING MOMO, who proceeds to take charge LIKE THE BOSS SHE IS, and mobilizes the rest of the kids. And honestly I have more faith in them than in any of the adults at this point, so yeah, you know what? Let’s do this.

so I am possibly a bit spoiled on this chapter because I did a “top five predictions” post earlier this week, and someone replied to that yesterday on Thursday saying that they were mostly correct. I don’t know exactly how close to the mark I was though, and in any case most of the predictions were just “so-and-so shows up, probably”, so it’s not too bad. we’ll see how it goes!

OH THANK GOD MY BABIES ARE SAFE

I mean, CLEARLY they’re all about to be in horrible danger, seeing as Jirou is about to inform them of the whole “THE BIG GUY EVERYONE WAS AFRAID ABOUT WAKING UP WOKE UP” thing, but in the meantime at least Kami and Toadette and Honenuki made it back to the group safely

also Kaminari’s use of “Jirou-Jack” here is fucking inspired and I want him to teach a class on nicknames. isn’t he the one who coined “Yaomomo” as well? this boy has a gift and it needs to be appreciated

so Jirou is all “SOMETHING REALLY BIG IS COMING”, and actually she says “INSANELY HUGE”, which if anything is still an understatement, hard as it is to believe

WOW

“A BAD GUY IS HEADING THIS WAY?? SOUNDS LIKE IT’S TIME TO ABANDON THE CHILDREN IN THE WOODS” kjlfakh okay you know what?? fine!! you weren’t even going to do anything anyway so let’s not pretend!!

holy shit it’s like Mt. Lady isn’t even there

look at those speed lines!! goddamn. I just felt this huge rush of empathy for Mt. Lady though. like can you imagine growing up with this super-destructive quirk, and managing to become a hero with it against all odds, and having to put up with the manga making fun of you all the time just because sometimes you have a tendency to DESTROY A LOT OF STUFF, but it’s not like you can help it!! but the upside has always been that when your quirk is on, you are fucking UNSTOPPABLE though. so even though it’s been a hell of a rough ride for you, it’s worth it because you’re a complete badass and the number of people who can beat you out in terms of sheer physical strength is probably in the single digits. and you’re working really hard too, and lately you’ve been moving up through the ranks and actually becoming a damn fine hero if I do say so myself (and I do), and it’s like, about time though?? like finally, finally it is all starting to come together for you. and then this snarling trashrock person suddenly comes stampeding along and you put your all into trying to stop him, and it doesn’t even do a damn thing. like, holy shit. that’s just not fucking fair and YOU DESERVE BETTER, MT. LADY

anyway so she’s still hanging in there for now though so let’s check in with our villain squad riding on his back

lmaooo they’re all “I don’t even understand what is going on here”

YOU GUYS, THIS IMPLIES THAT THEY WERE ALL PLUCKED OFF THE GROUND BY THE SCRUFFS OF THEIR NECKS AND THEY HAD ABSOLUTELY NO SAY IN THE MATTER OMG. like I’m picturing Spinner being held by his cape pinched in between Machia’s thumb and forefinger, and awkwardly trying to lecture him like a mom with his hands on his hips all, “BAD GIGANTOMACHIA! NO! NOOOUAGH -- !” and cutting off with a yelp as he’s dropped onto his back

and I am glad they got Toga some clothes! I like to think Gigantomachia grabbed those for her as well. so thoughtful

wow Skeptic actually wants to go back to Re-Destro??

color me legit impressed. I underestimated your loyalty my dude. and let me also just take this moment to extend my gratitude toward Horikoshi for leaving the rest of the MLA out of it because good fucking riddance to them, goodbye forever hopefully!!

I guess they’ll be needing Skeptic’s quirk down the line for some reason? maybe he is meant to be like a new, less out-of-control Twice. smdh y’all out here trying to replace your dead buddy like a pet goldfish

who is this “they” Dabi is referring to

do you mean the heroes? lol yeah I guess they’re pretty distracted by the literal fucking kaijuu you’re currently piggybacking on

SIGH

“the Jakku team must’ve made a mistake” BOY, I’LL SAY. you know what, don’t even talk to me about that yet. it’s still too fresh. suffice it to say that your suspicions are correct and things in Jakku are not very daijobu right about now

anyway here’s a closeup of this bubble person just cuz

they are everything and I want them to be my friend. also there’s a squid person a few paces behind them who can probably do anything a squid can do. or they might actually be a shark person, actually. I don’t know. either way I love them

GETEN PLEASE GO AWAY

WE ARE PHASING OUT THE MLA!! MOVING FORWARD IT’S ORIGINAL LOV ONLY!! I’M SORRY BUT YOU DIDN’T MAKE THE CUT. we already have an ice character so shoo

OH DAMN MY MAN CEMENTOSS HAS HAD ENOUGH OF HIS NONSENSE TOO AHHHH YESS

1) hey so Cementoss is legit terrifying who’d’ve thought

and 2), did Cementoss always have a mouthful of gigantic perfect teeth each the size of a slice of bread, or is this just something I’m only noticing now because I’m behind the curve. either way, let me just say sincerely, DKJDLKFJLSKJG

RE-DESTRO YOU GO AWAY TOO!!

@waywardfacegarden​ you asked the other day which are the characters I actually dislike, and this is one of them lol. he’s just a big ol’ prick, and on top of that has the audacity to not even be interesting in any way so as to balance it out. anyway so apologies to any Re-Destro stans out there but I basically spend every panel he’s in hoping that someone will punch him in the face hard enough to finally make him shut up

anyway so my man Edgeshot is here though, finally!! but of all the people for him to fight! this is a real predicament for me. the most soothing character in the series contrasted with the character who grates my nerves the most. Edgeshot’s sexy ASMR voice is gonna be drowned out by all of RD’s punching and self-important ranting in the anime and I’m lowkey devastated but I’m gonna pull myself together and read on

SPEAKING OF SELF-IMPORTANT RANTING

Edge, if you can liberate us from having to put up with his insufferable ass once and for all I will be so grateful to you. can you do this. please. for me

and it looks like some other boring MLA villains are following along behind Machia so I’m gonna need someone to kick their asses as well. please

-- YESSSSSS

okay so now I see what that comment on my prediction post was referring to lol. I did indeed have my fingers crossed that these two would show up again, and sure enough! THE GANG’S ALL HERE YAY

and Mt. Lady is being sumoed aside!

anyone want tonight’s lotto numbers. during this brief fleeting moment of having my predictions be actually credible, I would just like to say that Hagakure is the U.A. traitor. thank you and goodnight

OH NO KAMUI IS WORRIED

HE LOOKS SO PANICKED?? OUT OF THE BLUE I SHIP IT SO MUCH?? I keep forgetting they’re on the same team and stuff and wow, I need to calm down

LOL MIDNIGHT IS ALL “NO TIME FOR SHIPS!!”

I wonder if her quirk will actually be enough to take him down? this is something I’ve been itching to see for a long time, actually. just how powerful is she? we know her quirk is more effective on males than females, but is anyone actually capable of resisting it? imagine if she really did just knock Gigantomachia out after all of this buildup. that would be some god-tier shit omg, DO IT

(ETA: I am just going to assume that since Horikoshi had to go to elaborate lengths to take her out of the fight, this means that her quirk really was capable of knocking them all out. another tragic case of Too Badass For The Plot. y’all better respect Midnight.)

YESSSSSSSS

is she stripping. you know what -- don’t think about it. I won’t let you ruin this for me Horikoshi. Midnight’s gonna be a badass because the ladies are fucking ruling this arc and that’s all there is to it

NOOOOOO

DABI GET BACK HERE I JUST WANT TO TALK!!

oh thank god, she’s all right. BUT KAMUI ISN’T THOUGH DLKJSFLKSJDG??!

did Kamui Woods just... die

(ETA: okay but for real, is there an actual curse in effect on the Billboard Top Ten right now, though?? did one of them accidentally disturb the tomb of some ancient king??)

...

( ･ั﹏･ั)

oH MY GOD!?!

NOOOOOOO WHY ARE YOU SO QUICK TO SLEEP ON MAJESTIC, LET’S SEE IF THEY CAN DO IT!! GIVE US MAJESTIC GOD DAMMIT

(ETA: Horikoshi is seriously just yanking our chain at this point. when Majestic finally does show up, he or she better have the coolest fucking quirk of all time, that’s all I’m saying.)

okay how badly injured is Midnight here, though?? she just fell all that way?? DO I NEED TO BE REALLY MAD. I CAN WORK MY WAY UP TO IT PRETTY QUICKLY, JUST SAY THE WORD. I’M ALREADY HALFWAY THERE HONESTLY. WHERE’S KAMUI WOODS

!!!!!!!!!!!

AND JUST LIKE THAT MY ANGER EVAPORATES INTO THE NIGHT, YESSSSSSSSS!! MOMOOOOO

holy shit. “a quirk that can stop that thing,” she says. and goes and calls YAOYOROZU FUCKING MOMO y’all I am barely holding myself back from SCREAMING right now I...

you guys

you guys. if Midnight and Yaomomo team up to take down Gigantofuckingmachia using some sort of MOMO MADE A MACHINE TO SPREAD MIDNIGHT’S QUIRK strategy, or whatnot?? I will fucking die on the spot. you can end the manga right there. Kacchan you can keep your quirk I don’t even care

“IT MIGHT BE AGAINST THE LAW” lmaooooo insert John Mulaney “WE’RE WELL PAST THAT” gif here. holy shit. listen, that is fine. if anything it’s even better

WHAT THE FUCK

DO I NEED TO START GETTING REALLY MAD AGAIN!?!?! FUCKING WHIPLASH, IS WHAT THIS IS, BUT YOU JUST TELL ME WHAT SORT OF OVER-THE-TOP REACTION IS NEEDED HERE AND I’LL GO FOR IT

(((( ;°Д°))))

[GRABS HORIKOSHI BY THE COLLAR] listen, you. if you only just now, for the first time ever, gave us a lady hero actually mentoring another lady hero, which we have somehow NEVER HAD BEFORE in almost three hundred chapters, only for you to then KILL OFF THE MENTOR IN THE MIDDLE OF HER GODDAMN SPEECH TO THE MENTOREE, I will... there’s... I’ll... okay, listen. DON’T. THERE WILL BE A RECKONING. CAPSLOCK SUCH AS THIS WORLD HAS NEVER WITNESSED!!

ヽ(#ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ┌┛

I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO REACT TO ANYTHING IN THIS CHAPTER AND I’M LOSING MY MIND OVER IT

so the other kids are all “what the fuck” and “so Momo’s in charge??” which, YES!!! IT’S THE ONE GOOD PART ABOUT ALL THIS SO DON’T YOU DARE QUESTION IT

MOMO NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO BE CRIPPLED BY YOUR ANXIETY, YOU CAN DO THIS GIRL I BELIEVE IN YOU

hell, it’s not even just an “I believe in you” thing, because it’s not just belief, it’s fact. you motherfucking can do this, you are the most capable and brilliant student in 1-A, you just gotta have faith and let yourself shine!!

so now there are some more panels of Machia running and the villains and heroes fighting, blah blah blah. and Momo screwing up her face as she makes her decision...

YESSSSSSSSS

my baby girl is all grown up and TAKING THESE MOTHERFUCKIN REINS and MOMO I WILL LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU JUST SAY THE WORD!!

lol she’s all “Jirou use your ears and scientifically calculate how long it’ll take him to get here”, and Jirou is all “I can literally fucking see him, he’s gonna be on top of us in like two seconds” WELL OKAY THEN

thank god there are no adult pros left to fuck this up. is that weird that this is a real and honest and completely sincere thought that just ran through my head? like, at this point if any of the adults were around I’d just be afraid of them dying honestly. but with the kids I actually feel real hope that they’re somehow gonna do this. of course it helps that unlike the adults they’re pretty safe from being killed off

also! way to represent the entirety of class 1-B there Honenuki lulz. sorry, The Rest of Class 1-B

OH MY GOD

MT. LADY I WILL LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU AS WELL!! YOU HAVE MY LOVE AND FEALTY!!

I’M STANNING HER SO HARD I’M GONNA EXPLODE SOMEBODY HELP!?!

JIROU SAYS THAT MACHIA HAS SLOWED DOWN!! YOU GUYS I’M ABOUT TO GET “MT. LADY FOR PRESIDENT” TATTOOED ACROSS MY FOREHEAD

lmao at Shouji using his power of “putting some extra eyeballs on my arms” to inform everyone that Gigantomachia is Right Over There and Very Big

good job Shouji

oh my glob I have so much love for Momo right now that it can’t even fucking be contained. brb wildly flailing my hands around a little to try and release some of this excess excitement

maybe Momo can be president instead and Mt. Lady can be the vice president

NO THE CHAPTER IS ENDING I’M NOT READY

AND JUMP IS ON BREAK AGAIN NEXT WEEK TOO, FML!!

okay!!

Kaminari is so fucking brave right now I just want to crush him in a hug?! we know he’s still scared!! look at his eyes!! and he was freaking the hell out earlier too, and now the situation is much worse! but he doesn’t give a fuck because his friends need him! he is ready to be a hero, my little baby boy is all grown up and I’m so proud??

Mineta’s face in the bottom right corner is everything. I know, I know, boooo Mineta, but that’s still the best face anyone has made in the entirety of this manga

Tetsutetsu’s out here all “I humbly request to also represent class 1-B” and Momo is all “okay fine I guess we can have two of you guys”

can we all just stop for a moment to appreciate how KamiJirouMomo is alive and well. like, we had interactions between all three of them in this chapter, in all possible permutations? do you know how happy this makes me?? I am vibrating with joy??!

I really can’t stress this enough -- I have no clue at all what these little soda can things are (anesthetic, I guess??? you know, like how you sometimes buy cans of anesthetic at the supermarket?? what do you mean you don’t do that??), or what they’re gonna do with them. I have like negative clues. but DAMNED IF I GIVE ONE SINGLE FUCK. the next chapter can be them all fucking hurling them at his face for all I care. THE DETAILS OF HOW SHE KICKS HIS ASS DO NOT MATTER!! GOOD MORNING TO YAOMOMO AND YAOMOMO ONLY!! MY MOMO ACADEMIA