#nice thing is I’ll be up early so I can get shit done before heading out

[fulokis]

Thunderstorms on Monday? Sign me up

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Don't Care, Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader fluff

Summary: Bucky is capital J-Jealous

Warnings: A guy being overly nice at a bar, drinking at 1pm, nothing else I can think of

Notes: Short little thing I thought of when i was visiting home and witnessing my sister's boyfriend be jealous lol. I just love jealous Bucky sorry not sorry. More Biker!Bucky here

“Oh hey sweetheart, you look lonely over here.” You looked up from where you were engrossed in the book you’d left behind the bar for days just like this, the crew was too busy to talk and the regulars weren’t your favorite. The man wasn’t a regular, not horrible looking and was dressed alright. You were confident he had stopped by because his car was in the shop. The demographic that frequented the bar that was not the vibe that this man was giving off.

“Oh you know, just waiting for my order,” you supplied with a polite smile. He had plopped himself onto the bar stool beside you and raised a two finger salute to Bruce, who was the daytime bartender.

“Waiting for your car?” he asked, “Nice girls like you don’t usually come around here.” Your eyes narrowed, an eyebrow going up.

“I’m a regular. And you? Waiting for your car? Since I haven’t seen you around.” Bruce came over, giving you a look that said ‘if this guy is bothering you I’ll toss him out’ and you knew he would. Bruce “The Hulk” Banner was not exactly known for his polite way of answering rude customers. You shook your head. No need to alienate a customer just because he got a little friendly at a bar.

“What can I get you, man?”

“Whatever IPA you have and whatever the lady is having I’ll put on my tab.” Bruce grinned at that and you were near protesting. You never paid for a thing at the Howling Commando, but you knew Bruce and you knew he was putting your lunch right on this guy’s tab.

“Sure thing.” Bruce turned away.

“Must just have not been around on the same days as you.” You glanced around the bar. It was pretty empty today, but it was still early. Your bosses had required you to use some of your PTO before they had to pay you out for it, and you were truly more than happy to oblige a staycation. After another glance around, Bruce still keeping an eye on you out of the corner of your eye, you decided it would be entirely harmless to engage in conversation.

“Not sure. I’m here every day. Basically. You here getting your car fixed?” You asked again. He gave you another sleazy smile, this one reminiscent of your male coworkers who thought they could get any more than a polite smile or handshake at a work happy hour.

“Waiting for my car yeah. Only place this convenient to get a decent bite and drink while waiting for them to get done.” As if on queue, Bruce slid over your usual burger and sweet tea, and then an IPA for the guy.

“Closed tab?” Bruce asked, putting his hand out for the card. The guy did a suggestive look over at you.

“You know? Keep it open.” You rolled your eyes at your sandwich, slightly regretting that you had begun a conversation with this man, and took a bite. Some of the tomato juice dripped down your chin and you snapped at Bruce to get his attention.

“You’re going to learn one of these days,” he sighed, tossing you a stack of napkins. You chewed and swallowed and then gave him a grin as he walked back over.

“You keep saying that, but I never do.”

“Good luck…” he looked at the tab as he slid it under a cup in front of the man, “Colin… you’re going to need it.” You took a sip of your sweet tea, you knew he didn’t mean good luck with you, or at least not the primary part.

“So you’re really a regular regular huh?” Colin was eyeing you with near a frown as he took the first sip of his beer. The clock behind the bar read a quarter past one.

“Yeah, lots of friends who work here. Just not usually in during the day. Sounds like you’ve been here before?” You took another bite before he could pivot the questioning back to you.

“Yeah, I’ve been before. They did a shit job though…” He started to ramble but you were quickly uninterested when the side door opened and a sweaty, grease stained Bucky Barnes walked in, squinting at a ticket.

“Paulson? Fucking Yelena and her handwriting. This is fuc-oh!” It was almost comedic to see Bucky go from a serious, frowning massive man to the grinning, golden retriever man he became when he looked at you. Bucky attention had turned squarely on you as he walked over, the ticket partially crumpling in his hand as he tried to wipe them off before he got over to you. The grease stains on some of your clothes were impossible to get out just from his grabby hands.

“Paulson, that’s me.” Both you and Bucky turned to Colin, as if he had just returned to existence. Bucky’s eyes narrowed, and you could see them flicker across the length of the empty bar then back to where Colin had seated himself beside you. He knew it had to be him that sat beside you because not two hours gone, Bucky had come in for some water and to smack a kiss to your lips right where you sat now.

All concern for grease stains went right out the window.

Bucky came up behind you, reaching over your shoulder to take a few fries off your plate, the hand with the crumpled ticket going around the other side to hand it to Colin, effectively entrapping you between his arms and away from the guy.

“Your car’s done. You can settle it up in the office.” Colin stared at Bucky, who after handing him the paper, wrapped his arm around you and pressed your back to his chest, chomping on fries and reaching for your sweet tea.

“Did they make your burger good?” Bucky asked, “The new cook got specific instructions.” You elbowed him lightly.

“I don’t need everyone thinking I’m a control freak.” Bucky laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“They know I’m the control freak.”

“I guess… I guess I’ll go get my car then. Nice to meet you.” Colin left his mostly full IPA on the table and forgot to pay his tab, near running out the front door.

“What was that guys problem?” Bucky asked jokingly, spinning your stool so you were facing him. You wrinkled your nose.

“You’re stinky.”

“I don’t think you care,” Bucky rumbled, leaning down to press a long warm kiss to your lips.

“His problem was I was getting ready to deck him,” Bruce said, setting down a pint of Bucky’s favorite on a coaster beside your food. He whisked away Colin’s drink and wiped down the watermark.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing,” Bruce responded before disappearing back towards the kitchen. Bucky plopped onto the stool beside you and waited for you to respond.

“He was just trying to chat me up. That’s all.” Bucky sipped his drink before taking a massive bite out of your burger.

“Hey! That’s mine! Smaller bite!”

“I’m just taste testing the new cook.” You bickered over your lunch as the rest of the garage crew began to filter in, a few of the regulars making their way through the front as well.

“Heyo! I heard someone was trying to flirt with-“ Bucky hit Steve in the arm, but Sam had already heard it from where he was clocking in behind the bar.

“Is he dead?” he yelled. The group devolved into ways that Bucky could have murdered this man. All of you failed to notice Colin walking in the front door, where he paused and stared at the group of massive, tattooed bikers calling out forms of torture that could have been inflicted on him. Sam saw him first.

“Oh hey man, what can I get you?” Everyone turned toward him and Bucky got to his feet immediately, having been the only one who could have identified him.

“Just-“ the man’s voice came out high and you suppressed a grin, already feeling a little bad for him. He cleared his throat, face red.

“Just the tab I left.” There was a quiet murmur of ���ooooos” as the group dispersed, keeping an eye on you and Bucky.

"Sorry," you started, but Bucky shifted around the side of the bar, picking up Colin's card where it was sitting by the register. Policy was 20% on any leftover cards and Bruce had already closed it out with your meal on there.

"Here. Get lost." Bucky's expression had gone dark.

"Buck, he didn't know."

"Don't care." Colin took a few steps back.

"Man, I wasn't looking for trouble. I didn't know she was your girl, she was talking to me too."

"Do. Not. Care." Colin fled under the close watch of the bikers.

"You didn't have to do that," you sighed, rolling your eyes at the men around you, "You're going to lose a customer."

"Don't care," Bucky muttered, back by your side, "You're mine, honey. Don't care what anyone else says."

"I am yours. He was just being nice." Sam had started the music for the night, and it whafted through the speakers.

"Dance with me, belle?" You laughed.

"When have I ever said no to that? In fact, kill me if I ever do because its an evil clone trying to take over my life." He laughed, the sound more than enough music to your ears for dancing. Bucky wrapped an arm around you and smacked a kiss to your lips, taking your hand and whisking you off to the dance floor.

[stevieschrodinger]

Link to Part One Part Two Part Three

TW Human trafficking discussions of injury

Steve feels like shit. He looks like shit. He’s pretty sure something might have straight up died in his mouth when he got that forty five minutes of sleep.

Everything looks good though. The fact that everyone else sprawled around the boardroom also looks like shit makes him feel a little better about himself. Well. Everyone but Nancy, obviously, who could probably walk out of a tornado and still look put together.

Steve only knows it’s morning because Carol just brought them all coffee. Carol does not come in out of hours. Steve learned that very, very early on. It was uncharacteristically nice of Carol to turn up with the little trolley from downstairs; it had a bunch of fruit and breakfast pastries on it, plus coffee.

She then proceeded to explain to Steve at great length how he looked and smelled like he’d been shit out by a bear, so, maybe she had motive. And that motive was being a bitch.

“Happy now, Steve?”

Steve’s got like, a whole bag of sand in each eye. Coarse, if they grade that kind of thing. Coarse sand. “Do you think we got everything?”

“I am confident that the team have done their utmost to pursue every avenue.”

“Nance, stop being a politician. That’s not a yes.”

She purses her lips at him in the way that she has, “can I have a word with you?” She scans the board room, “privately?”

Steve drags himself out of the chair, balancing one croissant on top of his coffee cup and grabbing a bear claw too, and then follows Nancy out and into a nearby office.

She doesn’t pull any punches, “I need to know how you know.”

Steve takes a big bite, then speaks with his mouthful, “can’t. NDA.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, “and who, exactly, did you sign an NDA for?”

“The FBI.”

Nancy brings up her phone, showing Steve the screen. More precisely the headline on the screen, and Steve is thrilled that the picture they’ve used of Hagan is, objectively, fucking awful, “so Tommy Hagan was arrested last night, for Omega trafficking. When you walked into the office yesterday, oh so confident that everything relating to Hagan was going to tank…it was nearly ten full hours before this hit the news.”

Steve shrugs again, “N...D...A.”

They stare at each other for a long moment.

The door opens, Henderson’s baby face poking through. You would not in a million years think they guy was in his twenties, “Steve, morning! Sorry, I know it’s early…” Henderson seems to take in the state of Steve. Shirt rumpled, tie hanging loose, starting in on his second pastry, “but I kind of need to know why over a quarter of a million dollars was moved on Saturday, and where it went since it seemed to just...disappear?”

It takes, probably, less than a second for Nancy to leap to a conclusion like an Olympic fucking vaulter, and half a second longer for her to hit Steve with the file she’s holding.

“Er...not now, Dustin okay?” Steve manages to say, trying to shield his pastry and his coffee while Nancy gets it out of her system.

Dustin’s a smart kid, he watches Nancy slapping Steve with the papers...and just leaves.

She finally stops, pinching the bridge of her nose, and says very evenly, very quietly, “Steven Harrington, look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t buy an Omega.”

“NDA?” Steve replies quietly, uncertain, and then flinching when Nancy raises the folder again, “okay okay! Yes, yes I did. But! Under the FBI’s kind of...you know, instruction? I was evidence gathering! He’s at mine but I’m figuring out where his family are and I’ll take him back! It’s fine!”

“Why is he at yours?”

“They didn’t have anywhere for him, short notice, plus his feet are kind of messed up, from them like, hurting him. He’s been there a couple of years so doesn’t have anything, so I’ve ordered him some clothes and stuff. He’s fine.”

Nancy tilts her head, like a predator working out the distance they need to strike, “he’s...fine?”

Steve knows he’s fucked up. Nancy is using that tone. It’s...a very specific tone. “Err...yes?”

“You have an injured Omega, who has been held against his will, abused enough to be, at the very least, physically injured, never mind the emotional toll this whole thing may have taken...and he’s fine?”

Oh, no. She’s raised her eyebrow in that way she has. “I mean...yeah?” Nancy glares, and Steve backtracks, “I mean. Obviously he’s not...you know, perfectly okay, I guess. He’s been through a lot. But I made sure I fed him plenty, and he’s got some clean clothes on the bed. The bed in the room...I never actually...got around to showing him to...because I got, distracted. And it’s upstairs…” Steve can feel his insides sinking, “his feet are hurt. Shit.” Well fuck. Steve's...fucked up, probably quite badly now that he actually stops for thirty seconds to think about it.

Nancy sighs aggressively out her nose in that way she has, “Steve your security system is like fort fucking Knox, did you at least…”

But Steve’s already shaking his head, because he didn’t do that, either. He’s just...locked Eddie into a new prison. Shit.

He scrambles, feeling guilty, “I’ll give him some of the money. A lot of the money. Hagan’s...stuff. He can have the ranch?”

Nancy’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, “why on earth would he want the place he’s been kept prisoner for-”

Steve shrugs, “whatever he wants. He can bun it down if he likes, I’ll help. It’ll be like, therapy?”

Oh no, she gone from pinching her nose to rubbing that spot on her forehead, but then she seems to...deflate. Grasping Steve’s arm to hold him close, she actually speaks gently to him, which is, quite frankly, a million times more terrifying, “Steve. We’ve known each other a long time, now, so I say this with love. Money, wealth...is not the most important thing in life.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but she shushes him, “I know. Alright, I know it can help, and it makes life a lot better for a lot of people...but giving people things does not...fix anything. Money is not an apology. Gifts are not an apology. And I know it’s hard for you to...see it differently, okay? Because you’ve always been very...driven, and that’s a good thing! I know how you grew up and how your father was with you and I know you feel you have...something to prove, okay, so I understand, I do. But...a lot of people put higher value on...just. I mean, maybe just go home. Say that you're sorry. Look after the Omega for a couple of days, make sure he gets home, okay? Maybe prioritize that, for a moment. You know the office will be fine...and maybe you’ll see that other things in life can have value, hmm?”

Part five

@stylelovechild @steddieonthen @marklee-blackmore @sticknpokelightningbolt @resident-gay-bitch @somegirlsomewhere @mugloversonly @weekend-dreamer7 @lololol-1234 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mx-jinxous @goodolefashionedloverboi @bogwitchlesbian @lunaraquaenby @steddieinthesun @pluto-pepsi @disrespectedgoatman @i-eat-spinal-cords @waelkyring @kal-ology

[kooahae]

After Last Night: Work Visit

Read the previous drabble here.

Read the next drabble here.

Summary : something seems up with Jungkook so you go to his job to cheer him up.

Pairing: best friends to lovers, Jungkook X female reader 

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Big d!ck koo, oral (m.receiving) use of good girl bc well that’s what he called her the first time, office Jk is hot to me- he’s still a simp, cursing, swallowing, deep throating, they're down bad for each other as always <3

Word count:  2.5K

A/N: Before we get a little angst we have this and one more fluff drabble coming out hopefully this week- if not I’ll do my best to lyk when. School is kicking my ass but yeah me and my angsty babies will have our moment. I promise. As always thanks for reading 🩵

Minors DNI

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Today has been so long! Jungkook is beyond exhausted. He didn’t really want to be in the office at all today on top of it. He’s gotten used to working only 2 days in the office, and three at home due to his routine. The thought alone of his routine being disturbed pissed him off. Plus, He has been in serious work mode all week. He hasn’t even been able to just cuddle on the couch. You’ve been asleep the last 2 nights when he got home as well. You cuddle up to him like usual when he climbs into bed but damn, he’d do anything to just have a lazy day and not be in a rush to get up. 

Apparently, his employees can’t follow simple directions. He’s been stuck reprogramming a new app for what seems like forever. He swears if it didn’t pay the bills, and If he wasn’t so good at it- He’d find something else to occupy his time. He wishes he got paid for all the times you cross his mind, that would be a lot better than being here -and he’d be filthy rich! 

As Jungkook reaches into his pocket for his phone to call you, someone else rips his chance from him. 

You have got to be fucking kidding. 

“Oh, um..Mr. Jeon I just wanted to ask is it okay if I leave early today?” His assistant asks him. 

Jungkook has never been someone who was extremely strict. He knows he’s younger than most of the people working for him and he’s been cool about a lot of things because of that. However, that does not mean they can walk all over him. They take time away from you when they don’t do their job and also add more problems than solutions lately. He’s simply fed up. 

“Go into the meeting room and call everyone there please Duri.” He asks nicely, even though he doesn’t know why he keeps being so kind about it. 

“Oh…okay sir. Will do. But i-“

Jungkook really doesn’t care. He’s not trying to be mean but today has been a shit show. Things could be going better than this. That’s all he’s hoping for. 

“Duri…tell them they have thirty minutes. That means you too.” He points to the door, sitting his feet up on his desk. 

His assistant stares blankly, so Jungkook squints, points again and tilts his head. 

“By the time you’re done looking at me…There will be zero minutes.” He exhales placing his hands behind his head, as he watches Duri run out.

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Today you’ve decided to bring Jungkook lunch, he seemed so sluggish this morning. He gave you your good morning kisses but you can tell something is up. He didn’t even remember his banana milk. You’ve seen him do a lot of unusual things, but this weirdly enough takes the cake. The last time you even remember him acting like this, was when he swore he bombed an exam -He got the top score in his class, but that’s not the point. Jungkook genuinely only acts like this when there’s more work than he wants to do, or he feels burnt out. You know him the same way you know yourself, if not better. You have been thinking about him heavily today as well. You both could use a day off after this week, but life isn’t always that kind, you’ll just have to make do with your idea today. 

You get dressed in a shirt of his since he likes you in them so much, a cute skirt and some shoes.  Food and banana milk in tow, making sure you feed Bam on the way out. 

Once you arrive you can hear him giving what may be a motivational speech in the conference room. Jungkook is so cool in your eyes. He has his own business at 23, which he started two years ago. His gym side-venture is thriving. You’re almost there with him but not quite yet, starting your own media company is in the works though, and it’s nice to have his support. It still amazes you how Jungkook can make his mind so quickly with business decisions. He’s really intelligent- that’s exactly what you love about him. 

You realize you’ve been just standing in the entryway like a creep daydreaming about your boyfriend so you continue to walk forward and get closer to the door. 

“Can someone explain to me why everyone thinks they can just leave early while I reprogram everything? “

Oh. That’s why he’s so tired. 

You take note that no one responded, so there’s no reason he should have been left to do everything. He’s absolutely right. Your poor baby. you know how much of a perfectionist he is as well. He deserves some rest too though.  You decide to keep listening. 

“We’re supposed to be a team so I treat you fairly but this isn’t fair…I have someone waiting at home for me too.” He says. 

That person is you- and that makes your heart do backflips, the butterflies in your tummy rise, and a smile creep upon your face. You now know why he’s been so out of it lately. He’s doing a lot of hard work, barely gets as much time home as his employees and he just misses spending time with you. You’ll definitely visit work more when he can’t be at home with you if it makes him feel better.  You miss him too whenever you’re separated. It’s really refreshing to know he feels the same. 

As for Jungkook. His heart is kind of heavy. He knows it hasn’t been that long but he’s really been stressed out lately, the past two weeks at work have been hell and he feels like he can’t catch a break. He just needs to be with you, somewhere he can relax. With someone who is his comfort place. 

“Starting today we all do our delegated parts. I do mine. You do yours. We talk to each other about things beforehand that could affect other people’s schedules. Understood?” He asks. You can tell he doesn’t want to be that guy, but he also knows he’s been too nice until now. 

“If you do your part I don’t care what you do afterward if you wanna go home so be it. But finish your task.” 

He looks so withdrawn and tired. Watching everyone give him a head nod, you decide to just go sit in his office while he dismisses everyone. 

He walks in completely irritated and immediately starts patting for his phone but then looks up to see you. Sitting on the loveseat in his office. Smiling and waving hello to him. The sun from the window lightly shines on you. You look like what you are- his angel. 

“Hi, handsome!” You stand up and walk towards him. 

“You’re really here? Like I’m not going crazy because I missed you?” He says waving his hand in his own face. 

He’s always so silly. You hug his waist. Your face in his chest. He immediately hugs back. He doesn’t know how you knew he needed you, but he doesn’t care. He just appreciates the fact that you always show up for him. You always have. 

“No, but you’re checking your hand silly to make sure you’re real. Instead, you should be kissing me to make sure I’m real…” you say peaking your head up and poking your lips out. 

“You’re so cute. “ He says leaning down to kiss you. Cupping your face in his hand. Lips smacking gently against yours. His kisses are so soft and feel divine. 

“I’m. sorry. I’m. not. home. “ he says a kiss between every word. 

You pull away and look up at him he’s still holding your face so you place a hand on his forearm.

“Don’t apologize for working. I’m glad you stood up for yourself and I’m even happier to be here with you.” You say and lean back in for another kiss. 

“How am I so lucky?” He says as you both finally pull away. 

“Makes two of us! I brought you lunch and even brought my laptop too.…”

Jungkook sits in his office chair and you climb on his lap. Straddling him. 

He immediately reaches for the remote that closes the blinds. Not that anyone can see his office from where they sit but just in case they thought of approaching him. 

You wrap your arms around his neck. 

“If you’re gonna be bored and have to be here, let’s be bored and overworked, responsible people together…” You say leaving a kiss on his neck. 

“…I can rub your shoulders while you code. You can fill me in on everything I missed this week.” 

He hisses at the sensation of your neck kisses. Hands running up and down your sides. 

“I really missed you.” He says and puts a finger on your chin to tilt your head to his. Kissing you yet again. 

Then he continues. “Don’t want to work, just want to be with you” He’s always pouting, so you do what anyone would do in your situation-Pull his bottom lip in, and suck on it gently then let it go with a pop. 

That’s when an idea pops into your head. 

Jungkook’s office is spacious, and you can tell he needs to decompress, so maybe you’ll …

“Don’t work then, let me do it.” You say and push the chair back a little bit so you can stand up. 

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, “ Aren’t you supposed to do your work?”

“I will.” You say and he looks up at you. Standing in front of him with your head tilted- fucking cute, he also takes note of how you made sure to wear his shirt. 

“Baby you don’t really like coding… I tried teaching you before unless it’s a blog or something-“ you interrupt him. 

You place your hands on his thighs, hovering, still standing, and kissing him. 

“If I do a good job on it, we go home.” You state matter of factly. Almost like you’re making a deal, that you know you’ve won. 

He chuckles “Who’s work mine or yours?”

“Mmm it’s my task but…” Jungkook watches as your fingers dance closer to his crotch.  

“You’re the work.” You finish your statement dropping to your knees. 

You love the way he looks at you from above. Biting his lip and tilting his head slightly. 

Jungkook raises his hips so you can unfasten the button on his trousers.

“Gotta be quiet princess-oh shitt.” 

Jungkook’s head falls back as your hand strokes up and down his length. He knew he was the task- but if you’re about to suck him off here, his work day has had the best turn of events possible. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good, okay?” he nods breathlessly, It’s interesting how you both have the same effect on each other. 

“Don’t you always.” He says rolling his head forward to watch you. His mouth is drawn out into an ‘O’ shape, You know how much eye contact turns him on and you haven’t broken it yet. He looks fucked out and you’ve barely done anything. 

You spit on his dick and move your hands up, your pumps are perfect and have him bring his lip more and more at the sensation. 

“Babygirl, I think that’s enough teasing.”

You shake your head no and look up at him through your lashes. 

“How can you look at me like that knowing I’ll rip your clothes to shreds if -Fuck.”  You don’t mean to interrupt him. You promise. You just really notice all the precum oozing from his tip and can’t help but put your mouth on it. Sucking on the head of his dick like the good girl you’ve shown him you can be. He deserves it though

If you kept teasing him, you knew he would edge you non-stop later as well - and you’re already soaking through your panties. 

As you look up at Jungkook once more, you slide his entire length in your mouth at once, His shoulders relax and his hand comes to your hair and moves it out of your face. 

He has a thing for visuals, you happen to be his favorite.  

You rest at the base and keep your eyes on him as you bob up and down. Jungkook is massive, He’s really impressed that you can take him the way you do, and suck him so effortlessly. All of it makes him hard whenever he thinks about it. This is going to be engraved in his brain forever. 

You finally lift up and Jungkook watches the drool from your lips that’s attached to his cock as well. 

You moan at the sight of how red, swollen, and slobbery you have his dick, before going back in for more. 

Jungkook’s moans have been turning you on, he sounds so good and it’s making you never want to stop as you suck the soul out of him. 

You start to moan too, rubbing your thighs together for friction.  He just looks so fucking good!  You could cum from the visual in front of you as well

“Look at you sucking my dick like a good girl, so fucking pretty!” He says gripping your hair up more so he can enjoy his view. 

You go all the way down once more, then tighten your lips as you come back to the head of his dick, moaning so he feels the vibrations go down his shaft. 

“Just like that baby.” He says encouraging you. 

You continue deep throating him, watching his knees get weaker even though he’s in the chair, he looks like he’s barely holding on. Fully concentrating on the way he looks at you with lusty eyes but can’t contain his moans. 

Your hand starts palming his balls as you feel him deep in your throat. 

“Fuck baby girl, I’m gonna cum soon- oh my fucking god!” He’s trying his best to be quiet. You really hope his coworkers can’t hear him, but a part of you doesn’t care as long as he feels better. 

Jungkook is close and you nonverbally ask him with the look you give him for confirmation, just to double-check. He’s panting and can barely answer you. 

“Y-ye-yes baby.” He finally manages to muster out. 

You swirl your tongue up and down as you continue deep-throating him. It’s all so sloppy and messy. Your eyes are a little watery too, but you won’t stop until you swallow every last drop. 

“Fuck fuck fuck.” His chants and breathing are erratic which means…

Jungkook pushes your head all the way down and bites his lip, looking at you as he cums all down your throat. It’s so warm and thick. You moan and feel his hand slip from your hair to your neck as he pushes himself further one more time.

He pulls all the way out and you gasp but stick your tongue out to show him you’ve swallowed every last drop. 

You rise to your feet and sit on his desk, but he stands all the way up and towers over you. Lips brush across yours before he leans into your neck and leaves a kiss right below your ear lobe. 

“I’d love to bend you over here but let’s go home. I want to hear you scream.”

 You don’t have to be told twice! 

So back home you go- the both of you. 

Taglist : @joyfulwobblerhoagieegg @diorh0seokie @jennafromhome @taesungx @kimber-kook @whoa-jo @kaiparkerwifes @yoonglesbby07 @bangtansoneyondanfan

[k1ngpin42]

pls can u write sub abby? thank u ❤️❤️❤️

ofc :) Here you go.

𝓢𝓾𝓫𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓐𝓫𝓫𝔂

Warnings: Oral (giving), public, fingering, restraints, thigh riding, scissoring, hickeys, v!brator 

Your relationship with Abby had been mostly smooth flowing. The heat when the two of you were in the same room would be enough to light an island on fire. However, you two would fight sometimes. Whether it was one too many early days, one too many late nights or one too many days of having fucked up things happen, the consequences would involve driving either one of you insane, an insanity that you would take out on each other. 

This fight was different though, it was the longest you had gone without speaking during your entire relationship thus far. You had done something risky on patrol to protect yourself and the others in your group and almost died in the process. Instead of Abby welcoming you back, saying “I’m so happy you’re not dead, my love.” She yelled at you, said some really mean things, the underlining message being that she didn’t trust you to go out without her. 

Not only this, but rather than simply not talking, Abby would constantly act petty and arrogant. She flirted with some guy in the gym in front of you, she took your favourite weapon on her assignment, she messed up the apartment, she started rumours about you, and whenever you tried to apologise or approach her about it, she’d ice you out. You didn’t understand why she was doing this. What the fuck was wrong with her? You risk YOUR life and SHE’S mad?? It just doesn’t fucking add up.

You decide to just ignore her for once and instead of heading back to your apartment, you go to the bar instead.

“I’ll get vodka please, just give me like 5 shots.” You explain to the bartender, a blonde guy on duty who you were somewhat friends with.

“You got the machine parts you owe me?” He teased. You stare at him blankly.

“Dude, I’m ordering 5 shots of vodka, today is not the day.” He sighs and grabs the glasses, pouring the clear liquid into each. 

You turn your head at the sound of that smooth voice you so love. It was Abby. Was she following you now?

You turn your head away before she can face you and instead you face the bartender, leaning in to him.

“Please go along with this for me.” You whisper. He looks confused but complies.

“Oh my god your hair is SO soft…” You say, playing with the top layers of his hair. He nods

“I got something that isn’t soft.” He says, and you need to physically restrain yourself from laughing.

It’s convincing enough for Abby, though, who disregards the conversation she’s having and walks over to you, sitting next to you at the bar. You ignore her, continuing to “flirt” with the man.

“You really gonna make me pay for these drinks?” You ask him with doe eyes. He shakes his head, leaning in to you.

“You can pay me in a different way.” Abby stands up harshly. 

“Back the fuck up, she’s with me.” Abby spits. He goes over to some other people and pours them drinks, not wanting to be involved further.

“The fuck I am, you haven’t spoken to me in nearly a month.” You tell her. She lets out a deep sigh followed by a desperate and crooked smile.

“I uh…guess I was kind of a dick, huh?”

“Abby…you made me feel like shit. In fact, leave me alone, I was having a nice conversation before you arrived.”

“Oh please, he’s not your type.” Abby says simply. You shove her, getting off your chair. 

“Like you’d fucking know.”

“He’s a man, baby, there’s no way he can please you like I can.”

“Hmm, well. I guess we’ll see.” You say with a confident smirk as you approach the blonde gentlemen again. Abbys face shifts into panic mode as she stumbles towards you, grabbing your wrist.

“Wait, wait, please…please I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Talk. Why the fuck have you been such a prick?”

“I don’t know. I guess it was easier than…admitting how fucking scared I was. You could have died and it pissed me off, I have a right to be mad when you do reckless things.”

“No. You would have done the same, don’t give me that bullshit.” You turn away again.

“Wait I- I love you.” She says. You feel heat warm your cheeks and neck, but you say nothing, you just dwell in this feeling for a while. Then, finally, you face her.

🎀𝓼𝓶𝓾𝓽🎀

“Come with me.” You direct her out into a hall and slam her against the wall with your full body strength. She lets out a surprised gasp and you immediately shove your tongue into her throat. It’s only several minutes later when you’re both gasping for air that you pull away.

“You were such an idiot Abby. I’m going to teach you to talk to me next time you have a problem.” She nods, eyes still on the floor. You get down on your knees and she anxiously looks around. You just smirk confidently. “There’s people….” Abby breathes out. You get back up to her height and tilt your head, unimpressed.

“Did I say you could talk?” She shakes her head and you return to your knees, pulling her pants down to her ankles. You suck on the soft part between her muscles on her large thighs, leaving a purple mark in its wake. 

“Got something to say to me?” You ask her, looking up into her blue eyes. She exhales, sharply. 

“I…ugh, fuck….I’m sorry.” 

“Oh yeah? How much?” You ask, pulling her underwear down too. She lets out a deep, shaky breath.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t tell me. Show me.” You command, inserting a finger roughly into her and then tonguing in between her folds. She lets out a moan which was unmistakably stifled. You stop and stand up again.

“The fuck was that?” You ask, harshly. She looks embarrassed. 

“I know I deserve this it’s just…there’s people around-“

“You’re right, you do deserve this, and in case I wasn’t clear before, if you don’t do what I say I’ll stop, and that will be a worse fate for you than any of these insignificant losers hearing how good I fuck you.” 

Abby is speechless at your words. In any regular context, she could pin you down with one hand and fuck you with the other, making you cum in only a matter of moments. This wasn’t anything like that. It was intimate in a way she almost didn’t recognise. The craving for each other’s touch was second to no other desire in the world, the possessiveness and clear control you had over her, the control she let you have, it was turning her on in ways she didn’t expect and that her brain couldn’t fully comprehend. And now you were licking, sucking and spitting on her cunt while that one fucking finger explores her tight hole. What a fucking tease, tasting her like it’s the best thing you’ll ever taste and all while only a few footsteps away from other WLFS.

“S’ good baby~ oh fuck…” She moans, her voice deep. You smile into her cunt, increasing the pace as you circle her clit with your tongue. It felt good to have her back, that girl made you feel crazy in the best way possible.

“Mmmph…mm so…close” You remove your tongue and add another finger, circling the upper walls of her cunt. She lets out a small whimper, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. Abby certainly wished you didn’t, cause you were definitely gonna tease her about it later.

“Aw, close already baby? Who knew you were so easy to please?” She rolls her eyes.

“Shut- Mmmm” She lets out a pornographic moan when you insert a third finger into her throbbing pussy. 

“You’re not in control of me today. In fact, you belong to me, say it.”

“N…o” Abby tried, her eyes rolling back along with her head. Your thrusting becomes harder.

“Don’t make me ask you again.”

“O-okay okay fuck…I belong to yo-” You put your tongue in her one final time and it’s all it takes to push her over the edge. 

“mmm!” She cums harshly, gripping onto your hair as she does so. Instead of letting her revel in the sensation and watching her face as she returns to reality, you keep the pressure on her, your pace relentless. 

“What are you d- oh my f— fuck stop st- mmmmm oh fuck-“ She cries, bucking her hips into you and consequently thrusting her cunt further into your mouth. Her back arches and her moans are getting louder now.

“OH F- fuck baby stop I’m so f-fucking sensitive-“ You didn’t give a fuck. The sounds she made when your tongue and your tongue alone explored and pleasured her in ways no one else could was like ecstasy and you could get drunk off the sound of it. 

“MMM PLEASE PL- mmm” Abby whined. You really did love her too, but she didn’t need to know that quite yet. 

“I-I…” You want to laugh. Abby fucking Anderson, WLF soldier, bulkier and stronger than most men, whimpering over her pussy getting licked by a girl. It was cute, adorable really.

“Gonna c-“ She couldn’t finish that sentence, didn’t need to, you could tell from the way her muscles tensed, how her thighs pressed against your face and glistening slick poured onto it.

“Mmm…” Abby hums as she cums a second time, her swollen cunt not getting a break. 

You decide to go up this time, after all you would probably require oxygen at some point. This wasn’t going to stop here though.

“Bedroom.” Is all you say as you shove her back and make your way to your room, letting her swiftly pull her pants back up and gather herself before making her way past the main hall to the dorms. Almost everyone looked at the two of you and were actively avoiding eye contact. Fuck, they definitely heard.

You both hurried to the room and you jump on her, pushing her back onto the bed. You kiss her passionately, the taste of Abby lingering in both of your mouths. 

“Stay here and take all your shit off.” You say, turning away from the awe-struck Abby. She’s not sure whether to be impressed, embarrassed, turned on or all 3, but she does as you say, removing her shoes, shirt, jeans and already drenched underwear. You walk over to her bag and grab out a metal pair of handcuffs. She’s gonna look so fucking good in them, you can’t help but think.

You walk over to her, not showing her the handcuffs yet. She’s wearing your favourite one of her bras and you can’t help but admire her. 

“Put your arms up.” You say. Her large, muscular fucking arms.

When she does this, you grab her hands and pull them down, putting the handcuffs on her tightly and  cuffing her to the bed frame. Fuck, she was a site for sore eyes.

She looks beyond shocked as she moves her arm, trying to see if she was really constrained. 

“Remember the safe word?” You ask. She rolls her eyes.

“This is so fucking embarrassing.” 

“Do you want me or not?”

“…yes.” Abby admits. You smile, sitting on her hips.

“Then let me take you the way I want.” You say, sucking on her stomach and leaving a silky trail of saliva over her chest. Then, you unclip her bra, throwing it onto the floor. Your eyes widen at the side of her soft tits and hard nipples, just waiting eagerly to be sucked. You do so and she lets out a gasp.

“Mmnn” You keep going, running circles of her nipples. Then, you move down to the lower part of her breast and suck so hard it leaves a pretty red mark there. 

“So pretty for me.” You  say, and she’s to embarrassed to reply.

You grab a vibrator from the side table, it’s a pretty, pink, rechargeable one that you always used when Abby wasn’t around. She gasps at the site of it and tries to free herself from the cuffs and you just smile at her efforts. You put the lower part into her and rest the top part on her clit. You turn it on medium pulse and stand up, taking off your pants but leaving your panties on, They’re pretty, pink lace ones that Abby would ordinarily rip from your body with her teeth. The now defenceless Abby, however, watched you, entranced and desperate as you position yourself on her thigh, wrapping your arms around her neck and moving yourself slowly up and down her thigh.

“Take them off….” Abby sighs, not wanting to admit to you or herself how good the vibrator felt. You start sucking on her neck as hard as you can while still moving your hips on her thigh.

“Where are your manners Abs?” You tease. She sighs again. 

“Please?” You take off your shirt, revealing a matching bra. She leans over to kiss them but is returned to the reality of her restraints. Deciding to tease her further, you suck on her breasts again, adding a matching mark to her other tit. She looks infuriated, like she would rail the shit out of you if she could. But she can’t, and that made it so much better.

“Oh fuck~” Abby moans quietly, enjoying the vibrators pulse. You put your hand inside her and turn up the setting and she’s immediately crying out.

“Fuck, fuck wait p-please.” 

“You didn’t talk to me for a month.” You say, rolling your hips over her thighs. Fuck it felt good, too.

“Sorry.” Abby breathes out as the vibrator danced inside her. You lean in more so the top part of your clit can really savour its favourite sex toy, her muscular thighs.

“You flirted with a man at the gym”

“You flirted with a man at the…oh f-fuck…the bar…” She says. She put a hand on her throat, squeezing tightly. 

“The only word out of your mouth should be sorry, or had you forgotten.”

“Sorry….” She moans. You’re pretty close now too and you keep moving up and down.

“You messed up the apartment.” You exclaim and Abbys eyes shut tight.

“I’m gonna-“

“Shut the fuck up. You made me feel like an idiot.”

“S—sorr-oh god.” Abby cries, and the sight of her cum dripping out of her pussy was picture worthy, something you would never forget.

You don’t turn it off though, not yet, and now she’s whimpering in a way you were sure would give you and eargasm. 

“You’re so sexy in cuffs Abigail.” You say, and the flustered, bulky woman squirms.

“God Abby hold still.” You say, putting all your body pressure onto her thigh to stop her movements as you thrust up on her thigh, letting yourself orgasm too. After about another minute of her whimpering, you finally turn off the vibrator, holding her face and kissing it.

“F…forgive me now?” She asks. You think for a second, but there’s one more thing you still have to try.

“Almost.” You say, taking off your underwear and bra. She doesn’t have the chance to speak even if she could.

“Need to feel all of you. You explain, putting your legs over hers and positioning your clits together.

“It’s too soon we just-“ 

“You’ve got one more in you Abby, I know it.” You comfort her as you start rocking your hips. She lets out a low grumble sound and moves her head back, her long, soft braid falling over her shoulder. 

“What was that thing you said before?” You ask over her pretty little moans. She’s flushing crimson at this point.

“You’re asking n…now mm~” She lets out. You moan too, fuck it felt amazing, you could feel the combined heat and wetness, you could hear the sweet sounds, it wouldn’t be long now.

“Mmm fucking say I-it….” You moan, gripping onto one of her biceps. 

“L…love you” She whimpers. You move faster.

“I…fuck I love you.” She breathes. Faster. “I….fucking….love….you” She manages as every inch of her fades away and you are left with just the feeling of your sweat and cum soaked bodies. You grab the key from beside you and unlock the cuffs, smiling at her.

“Well you could have just said that, I love you too.” You mock. She rolls her eyes, pinning you down below her. 

“You are fucking trouble.” She says, kissing you passionately. 

[barefoothighlander]

mary on a cross - the unforgiven

-simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

-warnings: mdni (18+), violence, death, smut, unprotected pinv, creampie, blowjob, mention of scars & alcohol, oral (fem rec)

-word count: 5.5k

-summary: you and simon take a break from the chaos of the pub

prev chapter masterlist

a/n: okay idk why this took me forever to write but it's done, not proofread

You reach for him in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open as the feeling of the space beside you being empty, you reach for the sheets, pulling them to your face and inhaling his scent. The room is bright when you finally wake, the large windows illuminating the space, breathing life into the room.

You glance around looking for him, your eyes catching the clock beside the bed, it was around 8am, you drag yourself from the bed, pulling the blanket around you as you stumble across the floors. You call out for him a few times but there’s no answer, nearing the other side of the flat you can hear shuffling downstairs.

You make your way down the stairs, your blanket tucked tight around you, keeping you warm as the sounds of the men fill your ears.

“Morning lass” Johnny gives a whistle as he eyes your form, bare legs and hair a mess from your sleep, your cheeks blush at his comment, Simon peeking around the corner.

“Hey sorry, didn’t want to wake you” His arm snakes behind your back and he places a kiss to the crown of your head.

“S’okay, what’s goin on?”

“Stopped by for some coffee”

“Tea” Simon interrupts

“Fuckin brits”

You giggle a little, “I’m gonna get dressed” You smile and make your way back up the stairs.

“She still doesn’t know?” Soap asks

“No, and she never will, I’m done”

“You’re a shit liar”

“I won’t drag her into this”

“Little late for that, by the way, that ex-boyfriend is heavier than he looks”

“I told you not to get involved Johnny”

“And if I didn’t you would’ve had a body in your alley to deal with”

“Why were you there anyway”

“Wanted to check in”

“You’re a nosey bastard you know that”

“Oh don’t I”

You jog down the stairs, newly dressed, sitting next to Johnny on a stool.

“So, what’re you two talking about?”

The two men exchange a quick look, “Simons thinking of takin a vacation” Johnny says, Simon turning his stare to frown at Soap.

“A vacation? Where are you going”

He has to think quickly, and make something up, “I’ve got an old cabin up north, was thinking of spending a weekend there”

“That sounds nice”

You smile at him, a lightbulb going off in his head, “Was thinkin you could join me?”

“Who’d run the pub?” “We can close for a weekend”

“Won’t that cost a lot”

“You don’t need to stress about it”

You give a small nod, “And what about you Johnny, what are you up to”

“Oh ya know, couple of things here and there”

You raise your eyebrows urging him to continue

“Mostly some tidying around, boring errands”

Simon releases a sigh, swearing that if he could he would strangle Johnny right there

“Well, are you gonna be around the pub?” “I think I’ll hang around for a little longer”

“Great, I’ve gotta run out so I’ll see you later” You hop off your stool, moving around the bar to stand on your toes, placing a soft kiss on Simon’s lips, he blushes at the action while Soap rolls his eyes. You wish the two a quick goodbye, walking out the front door to get started on your own errands.

“She’s good for you” Soap quips

“Shut it”

“I’m serious LT, she’s sweet, a nice change from your grumpy attitude”

Simon just stares at Johnny, his face saying enough as Johnny sips his coffee, a smirk on his lips.

You spend a few hours running around the town, picking up some things, and dropping off some breakfast for Mia before you get back to the Pub.

“Hey where’s Johnny”

“Had to go”

“Shame”

“Yea, so about this weekend”

“You don’t want me to come”

“What? No, I was just going to say that it’s a pretty long drive so we’ll have to take your car”

“Oh, okay”

“So we’ll stop by your flat before we go, you can grab whatever you need”

“Sounds perfect, we’ll close early tonight”

You smile at him as he walks towards the backroom to grab supplies for the bar. Work was slow, with barely any patrons during the day, you occupied the time with conversation between you and a few regulars, trying your hardest to understand what they were saying through their thick accents.

“Oi love”

You look up from the table you’re cleaning, Simon’s changed into shorts and a t-shirt, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, “I’m gonna go to the gym, we’ll head out when I’m back?”

“Let me come, it’s dead here anyway”

“Alright, c’mon then”

You giggle as you trail behind him, waiting for him to lock the door before walking the few steps next door to the gym, you step in and the thick air hits you, the place reeks of sweat, scattered people all working out, you feel out of place in your casual clothes, Simon placing a soft hand to your back to guide you through the room.

He stops in front of a punching bag, throwing his gear down before he wraps his hands,

“You box?”

“I used to, trying to get back into it”

You give a hum in acknowledgement, watching as he sets himself up in front of the bag, his strong arms flexed at his sides, he hits the bag hard, watching it swing back before delivering another blow, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on a little bit, watching his arms flex as he made contact with the bag, the concentration on his face as he timed his hits.

You watch him practice some hits, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin before his hand moves to stop the bag, keeping it still,

“Enjoying the view”

You suddenly realize that you’d been staring at him the entire time, your cheeks blush slightly as he catches you, your teeth biting lightly into your bottom lip as you nod your head, he lets out a light chuckle, shaking his head before resuming.

You stay quiet as you watch him workout for some time, running to grab him some water after the first 20 minutes, he continues for a little longer, his breath heavy as he pulls his fists back, unwrapping his hands.

“All done?”

“You want more?” “I could watch you do that for hours”

He smiles, a genuine smile as he leans down to grab his bag, his sweaty arm slinging over your shoulders as you make a face of disgust,

“You smell terrible”

“Guess we’ll have to clean up”

“We?”

He moves in front of you fast, arms wrapping around your waist as he lifts you into the air,

“Gross your sweat is all over me now”

“Whatever will we do?” He gives an exaggerated gasp, you roll your eyes at him, following behind as he unlocks the doors to the pub, making his way upstairs.

He moves to the bathroom, turning on the shower before stripping his clothes and tossing them to the side, your eyes are glued to him, drool practically forming at the sides of your mouth.

“You just gonna stare”

“Not a chance in hell”

You strip your own clothes, closing the space between you as you reach up to kiss him, your arms wrapping around his neck, his hands grab at the backs of your thighs, lifting you up so you can lock them around him as he walks the two of you into the shower, the steam from the water just heightening the heat that's emanating from you.

He presses your back against the tile wall, the water dripping over his bare skin as he peppers kisses down your neck, you let out a small gasp as his teeth dig into your flesh, biting lightly at your collarbone.

You can feel his hardening length pressing against your thigh, you wiggle your hips against him desperate for friction,

“Please Si, need you so bad” You whimper

He pulls back from you, his dark eyes scanning your face, full of lust, he leans in for one more kiss before he lines himself up with your weeping core, you clench around nothing as he teases at your entrance.

You sob into his shoulder as he pushes into you, the stretch of him moulding your entrance to his cock with every inch, your slick coats him as he pushes in deeper.

“Fuck love, see what you do to me, how bad I need you” He grunts into your ear, the noises shooting straight to your core as you cling to him. He holds your weight with his arms, keeping you against the wall as he thrusts into you, groans falling from his lips.

He nudges your head with his shoulder, urging you back so he can see you,

“Don’t hide, want to see you, want to hear all those pretty noises you make for me”

Your nails take across his back as you let your moans drip from your tongue, he leans in swallowing them with his lips.

He adjusts his grip on your legs lowering one so his free hand can toy at your clit, circling it with the rough pad of his thumb as you arch into him.

He presses his forehead to yours, the water cascading over the both of you as you melt into a puddle of moans and cries, his cock pounding into you as his fingers work your bud.

“Need you to cum for me angel, cum on my cock”

He thrusts harder, your hand bracing against the wall trying to keep your balance as you feel your legs weaken.

“Shit, so perfect for me, such a perfect little pussy”

His words ignite a fire in you, you grind your hips down to meet his thrusts, chasing your high as it bubbles in your stomach.

“So close Si, please”

“C’mon love, soak my cock”

You practically scream his name as you cum, your fingers pressing into the flesh of his shoulder as your limbs go limp, he holds you steady, his abdomen tightening as his own orgasm approach’s, he pulls you in for another kiss, holding your lips against his as he spills into you, his seed filling your core with warmth as a string of curses fall from his lips.

He releases your leg, his arm around your waist keeping you steady as you stand, the stream of water helping to ground you as your heartbeat settles, he holds you against him, choking back the words he so badly wants to say in order to stay in the moment.

You turn your back to him, reaching down to grab a bottle of shampoo before dispersing some into your hand, reaching up to run it through his hair, he hums at the contact of your fingers moving over his scalp, slumping his shoulders slightly to allow you easier access.

You can’t fight the smile that creeps on your lips, seeing such a large and daunting man melt under your touch made your heart skip a beat, his hands find purchase on your waist, his thumbs tracing over your wet skin as you work the product through his hair, you hands meeting his shoulder to urge him under the water.

He rinses the product, turning to grab a sponge, pouring some soap onto it before turning back to you,

“Your turn”

You giggle lightly as his hands make contact with your stomach, circling over your skin with the sponge as he watches the bubbles run down your frame, his touch is light, tickling you as he moves around.

You rinse off, finishing in the shower before stepping out, Simon grabs you a towel before wrapping himself in one and you can’t help but stare at his muscles, each ridge that sits on his chest,

“You stare a lot”

“Not every day you have a real greek god standing in front of you”

He scoffs at your words, “Don’t know about that one” He runs a tender hand over your jaw, his fingers pushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear before leaning in to kiss you.

“Right, c’mon we’ve got things to do” He smacks your ass playfully, walking into the bedroom to get dressed. You do the same, throwing on your clothes as you watch him pack a small bag, tossing it over his shoulder before threading his hand into yours, the two of you making your way downstairs and through the pub.

Simon locks up before returning to you, he’s tall by your side as you walk down the few streets to your flat, the sunny weather outside amplifying your good mood as you chat.

You reach your flat in no time, unlocking the door before tossing Simon the keys to your car, letting him pack his things in as you step inside to gather yours.

You move around quickly, throwing things in various bags, picking out some clothes and sexy underwear just in case as you make your way back outside.

Simons leaning against the car door, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips as he eyes you,

“Ready to go?”

You skip over to him, standing tall to kiss him, he tastes like tobacco but you welcome it, smiling at him before moving around the car to get into the passenger seat. He smiles to himself, taking a final drag before flicking the butt to the pavement and getting in the car.

He was right, the drive was long, you’d already been on the road for two hours, passing by a few towns before you had made it to the country, bunches of trees breezing by your window, Simon's hand had been resting on your thigh for the majority of the ride, only moving to change the radio station or turn the ac up.

When you finally arrived it was close to sunset, the sky a mixture of purples and oranges as you approached the old cabin, he tosses you the keys while he grabs the bags from the car. You open the front door and scan the area, it's completely different than his flat, it's cozy, there are pictures on the wall, you take a minute to look closely, Simon's in a few but you don't recognize the others.

"My brother" He appears in the door frame, you turn your head to him, "In the pictures, it's my brother, sister in law and my nephew"

"You didn't tell me you had a family"

"I don't"

Your heart drops as your mind makes sense of his words, "This was their house?"

"Haven't been here in a while, little dusty"

You shake your head, "It's perfect" You move to him and wrap your arms around his waist, his snaked his around your back to hold you close.

“Whaddya wanna do” You ask, your head tilting up to lock eyes with him

“Honetly, go to bed”

“To sleep.. Or to bed” You smirk

He smiles at you, his arms hooking around your thighs as he lifts you, carrying you to the bedroom, your giggles echoing throughout the house.

The next morning was quiet, you woke up before him, watching the steady rise and fall of his bare chest, your fingers tracing his tattoos as you count the freckles on his cheeks.

“Mornin” He grumbles, he doesn’t bother to open his eyes, simply extends his arms around you, pulling you closer, you pepper kisses over his collarbones leading up to his face,

“Sleep well?” You giggle

“Best in years” His fingers push your hair behind your ear as he reches his neck to kiss you,

“C’mon” You move off of him, “You hungry?”

“Starving”

You make your way to the kitchen, pulling open cabinets to search for something, “Theres nothing to make” You pout, he stands in the hallway, arm braced against the wall as he stares you down,

“Not what I’m hungry for”

Your cheeks blush as his stare grows darker, closing the gap between the two of you and lifting you from the ground, his arms secure under your thighs as your ass falls against the countertop, the cold stone stinging your bare skin. He doesn’t bother to take your shirt off, he simply slides your panties from your legs, positioning your thighs over his shoulders as he trails kisses down to your core.

Your fingers thread through his hair, quiet pants falling from your lips as he teases around your dripping sex, placing kisses everywhere except the spot you need him most,

“So perfect” His breath ghosts over your pussy, the feeling making you clench around nothing

“Simon, please”

He stares up at you through his lashes, his hands pushing your thighs further apart, your hand falls back to brace against the counter, your chest heavy as your slick drips out of you. He licks lightly around your bud, whimpers escaping you as he teases around the bud, he enjoys watching you squirm, he wants you begging before he gives you anything. Your fingers are tugging at his roots, trying to pull him into you but he stands firm, 

“Needy girl”

“Please”

“What do you need pretty girl”

“Need to feel you, need your fingers”

His hand extends toward your mouth, you open and he inserts two digits in, you swirl your tongue around them, hollowing your cheeks before he pulls them out with a pop, tracing them down over your chest before he pushes them into you, you let out a sigh of relief at the contact, his thick fingers working in and out of you, curling them as he pushes past his second knuckle, he watches your face scrunch from just the touch of his fingers.

He can’t wait any longer, his lips attaching to your clit, your elbow buckles from the contact, your back laying closer to the counter as his tongue flicks over the bud, swirling and sucking until you’re breathless.

“Taste so sweet baby” He purrs into your skin, your slick is coating his chin as his fingers pump into you, your leg tightens around him, holding him to you as he continues his assault, humming around your clit as your fingers tug at his roots.

“Please, so close”

“You wanna cum for me baby?” “Yes, please, need to”

“Good girl, cum on my fingers baby, doing so well for me”

His praise has your eyes squeezing shut, your pending orgasm forcing all your muscles to constrict against your will, you drop your head back, hands falling from him to grip the edge of the counter as his fingers brush against your sweet spot, over and over.

“That’s it baby, cum for me”

His free hand reaches to pinch at your hard nipple, the pressure building inside you threatening to explode, he presses his tongue flat and flicks over your clit, the change has you seeing stars as your climax hits you, your knuckles are white from the grip you have, your legs holding him against you as his fingers fuck you through your high, your hips twitching under him as your moans fall freely from your mouth.

“Such a good girl” He eases his movements, letting you come down before he stands, leaning over your breathless frame to kiss you, the remnants of your slick on his tongue,

“Told you, taste so sweet”

His arms help you from your position, sitting you on the counter as he holds you,

“You hungry?” He asks

You nod, biting your lower lip as your hands move to his pants, he stops your movements,

“I mean real food”

Your chest deflates a little, “Nothing here”

“I’ll go get some, towns a few minutes away” He leans in to kiss you, “Be good while I’m gone”

“I’ll do my best”

He smirks at you, placing a final kiss on your forehead before moving to the bedroom to get dressed. You wait a few minutes after he leaves, wandering the house, you check out a few rooms, your heart panging in your chest when you come upon a bedroom that clearly belonged to a young boy, trains and toy cars scattered across the floor, you know you shouldn't be snooping but curiosity takes over, you move around the upper floor, into the largest bedroom, everything looks like it hasn't been touched in years, the bed is unmade, there's laundry sitting in the basket, either Simon hasn’t been here in forever or he’s kept it the exact same for over a decade.

You leave the room, descending the stairs, trying to find something to do while you wait, deciding that going for a swim was the best option. Changing into your bathing suit you make your way out onto the back deck, it’s a small beach that the house looks out onto, but private, the water is cold when you step in, the waves lapping against your legs as the sun warms your skin, you make your way out further, the water sitting just below your shoulders.

You must’ve been in the water for a while as your trance is broken by Simon calling for you, you turn to him, arm braced above your head to block the sun as he stands on the desk, grocery bags in hand as he waves for you, you shake your head with a smile, urging him to join you, he drops his shoulders and you can practically hear the sigh that falls from his lips. Giving in he drops the bags, peeling his shirt off before making his way over to you, you can’t help but blush at the sight of him, tall and broad shoulders, his skin glowing under the light of the sun, the way his arms flex as he takes his shorts off, long strides carrying him towards you.

“It’s bloody cold”

“You get used to it”

“Right,” His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his form as the water from your chest transfers over to him, making his muscles tense a little.

“C’mon, let’s go eat”

“It’s so nice out here though” You pout

He huffs a laugh, bending down before his shoulder connects with your stomach, lifting you from your place and throwing you over his shoulder. You thrash your legs around but his grip keeps you firm against him,

“Oh my god, let me down!”

“Nope” His palm smacks your ass, making your flinch against him, the water from both of you dripping as he carries you into the house, planting you down on the floor once inside.

“I’m soaked”

He smirks at your words and you roll your eyes playfully,

“I’ll clean it later, come”

He urges you to sit, pulling out a few boxes and placing them in front of you, he devours his breakfast in seconds while you sit picking at your food.

“So this was your brothers house?”

He’s apprehensive to answer, waiting a best before choosing his words,

“Yeah, him and his wife lived here with my nephew”

“And they’re, gone?”

He just nods, turning his attention from you, you push your food away, standing in front of him before wrapping your arms around his dorm, his cheek settling against your chest.

“I’m sorry”

“S’not your fault love”

“I know it’s just, it sucks”

He huffs a small laugh, “Yea, it does”

You hold him for a moment before pulling away, your hand moving to grab his,

“C’mon”

“Where to?”

“Still hungry”

“Your foods there” He quirks his brow

You don’t respond, simply leading him to the bed room when you let go of his hand, turning to face him you pull the strings of your bathing suit, letting the clothing fall to ground before you make your way into the bathroom. He watches you curiously as you lean to turn on the shower, giving him the perfect view of your body,

“Coming?”

He moves towards you, “I will be”

You step into the shower, warm water washing the sand from your body as he stands in front of you, you reach up to kiss him, the water droplets cascading down your form as your hand snakes down his stomach, palming over his length.

“Been thinking about this all morning” Your hand grabs his length, squeezing lightly before running your palm over it, you feel him twitch into your grip, his hands roaming your form as he gazed at you.

You kneel in front of him, he plants one hand in your hair, pulling it back from your face while the other braces him against the wall, you stare at him through your lashes as you lick a stripe from his base to rip, feeling him grow harder under your touch.

He lets out a weak sigh as you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapped around him as your tongue flicks over his tip, gathering his pre cum and swallowing it.

Simon grunts as you take more of him into your mouth, his tip poking the back of your throat as your nose nestles against his pubic hair, you moan against him and he has to stop himself from thrusting into your mouth.

“Fuck love, feels so good”

You hum at his praise, your hairs roaming his form before settling on his thighs, grounding yourself as you bob along his length, flattening your tongue to lick every inch of him.

You feel him get unsteady as your hand plays with his balls, kneading them in your palm as you continue to work him,

“Shit baby, doing so fucking well”

You pull off him, staring up as a string of spit connects your lips to his tip, drool that pooled in your mouth falling to drip between your breasts, his eyes are glued to you as your hand pumps him.

He lets out a string of moans as your lips return to him, bobbing faster as the the sound of wet gags fills the air,

“Fuck, m’so close”

You stare up at him, gently squeezing his thigh to give him the okay to use you, his grip on your hair grows tighter as he holds you on his cock, burying himself in your throat as he begins to thrust, you gag around him, your digits squeezing into his skin to stay balanced as he grunts above you.

You focus on breathing through your nose as his tip makes contact with the back of your throat, over and over until he sets himself deep, holding you there before you feel his balls tighten.

He lets out a deep grunt as he cums, the hot spend dripping down your throat, he loosens his grip on your hair and you move slowly over his length, milking him for every drop.

He lets out a small whimper as he finishes, the sensation of your tongue overstimulating him before you pull off, swallowing as he stares at you.

“God you’re perfect” His hand cups your cheek as he helps you stand, pulling you in for a kiss and swirling his tongue over yours, his salvia mixing with the salty taste of his seed in your mouth.

You spend the rest of the afternoon outside, swimming in the ocean together, bathing in the sun, always in arms reach of the other. As the sun fades the two of you make your way inside for dinner, eating whatever Simon had cooked and managed to not burn while the sound of the waves and cicadas flood your ears.

“Can we stay here forever?”

“I wish love” He responds, smiling at you

“Don’t wanna go back tomorrow”

“I know but the pub can’t run itself”

You huff a small laugh, turning back to your meal.

The rest of the night was quiet, falling into a sort of domestic routine of washing dishes and sitting together on the porch, chatting about nothing in particular, you wanted to ask more about his family but you knew he didn’t want to talk about it, saving your questions for another time.

The next morning was just as calm, waking before him again and simply staring at him, he looked so peaceful when he was asleep, nothing to worry about or bother him, you trace the line of his nose with your finger, he scrunches his face in his sleep and you let out a small laugh.

He opens his eyes slightly, dark eyes staring back at you as a small smile creeps across his face, his arms pulling you into him as he lifts his body over yours, his broad shoulders resting against your form. You roam your hands over his back, fingers feeling over every ridge of scar tissue as he buries his nose in your neck, humming against your skin.

“Have to get up” You place a small kiss to his shoulder and he mumbles, “C’mon, it’s a long drive”

“I’ve changed my mind, we stay here forever”

You laugh against his skin, your fingers moving to thread through his hair as you pepper kisses over his shoulders and neck.

He pushes up with a grunt, gazing at you for a second before leaning down to kiss you, his warmth enveloping your skin as his body cages you against the mattress.

“So beautiful” He whispers and you can’t help but blush at his words, reaching up for another kiss before he gets up.

The two of you go for a final swim before packing all your things away, enjoying the water and sun as in a few hours you’d be back to work, busy and reeking of alcohol.

Simon carries your bags to the car, sitting himself behind the wheel before his hand finds its usual spot on your thigh, his thumb tracing over the skin as he pulls away from the house. You watch the building fade from view, your eyes glued to the sight of the ocean and the terrain as you drive back to the city.

You were a few miles out when you could already hear the noise, car horns and people shouting, there must’ve been a football match that day because everyone was in the streets, running around and shouting from their windows.

Simon pulls up to your flat, parking the car before getting out to open your door, he lifts your bags into the house before meeting back with you,

“I’ll see you at the pub in a few yeah?”

You nod, reaching up to kiss him before he walks away, his talk form navigating around the herds of drunk people.

You unpack your bag, throwing on new clothes and fixing your hair before making your way over to the pub, trying to ignore the shouting from drunk men on the streets, wishing deeply that you had your personal bodyguard to protect you. You arrive at the pub and stand outside for a minute, the lights are off but the door is open, stepping in you shout for him.

There’s not response but you can hear noises upstairs, making your way to the second floor your heartbeat rises,

“Simon?”

“Stay downstairs” You hear him yell, his voice is panicked as a loud thud echoes.

“Is everything alright? The door was open”

“Just go downstairs!”

His voice booms, setting your nerves on edge, your mind races with all the thoughts of what could be happening, thinking about all the things he could be hiding you muster up some courage and push open the door.

A million thoughts ran through your mind, you almost wished it was a girl he was hiding compared to this, the sight of a lifeless body on the ground, a trail of blood across the floor while Simon drags the man.

He drops the body with a thud, his eyes locked on yours as fear sits in your chest, he moves toward you, his hands covered in red as he throws his palms up in defence.

“He broke in”

“You killed him” You’re frozen in your spot

“He had a knife”

“You- you killed him” You can’t face him, your gaze set on the dead body lying on the floor

“Love, look at me”

You shake your head, “How, what?” You struggle to form a sentence, his arms reach for you and you flinch, stepping back.

“Baby it’s ok, just go downstairs”

“No, I don’t, Simon what the fuck” Tears prick your eyes, “How are you so calm”

“You know I’ve done it before love”

“Those are different circumstances, right?”

“Yes”

“This, this is murder”

“Self defence, please, just go downstairs and I’ll explain everything”

You stare at him for a moment, your options run through your mind, how could a man so gentle, so tender with you be capable of this, be so calm during this, you should run, should call the police but against better judgement you listen, leaving down the stairs you lock the front door, sitting down to try and catch your breath.

You can’t think about anything except the sight of your maybe boyfriend dragging a dead man across the floor, your ears don’t even focus on the noises above you, the sound of Simon grunting as he moves the body.

You sit in silence for 10 minutes before you hear him come down the stairs,

“You stayed” He sounds relieved

“You have a lot of explaining to do”

[meekahy]

Fishing

Needed to write about our fish boi so here ya goooooo, a short little fic

You worked the early shift this morning, so it was only noon when you got home. Stepping into the door, you kicked off your shoes with a sigh. 

Throwing your purse nearby, you yelled, “Nick, baby. Where are you?” You made your way into the kitchen to look around for your boyfriend. 

“I’m in the bedroom,” Nick shouted. You changed course and headed straight to the bedroom. Finding Nick lying tightly under the covers, you sit on his side of the bed. You brushed his hair out of his face and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“What are you still doing in bed?” you questioned as your hand ran through his dark locks.

“I just feel sad today,” he confessed. 

You frowned, “I’m sorry, love,” you paused for a second to think, “Have you eaten?” Nick shook his head.

“Hm, why don’t we go out and get some burgers, and then we can go fishing? Does that sound okay? Or would you rather stay in?” you suggested as he reached for your hand with his.

“You want to go fishing with me?” Nick asked as his face lit up. You hardly go fishing with him. This time, however, you want to cheer him up by doing something he likes to do.

“Of course I do,” you replied, “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll gladly go fishing with you.” Nick sat in bed, letting the covers fall, and brought you into a bone-crushing hug. 

“I love you,” he whispered into your ear.

“I love you more,” you whispered back before pressing a kiss to his neck.

At the restaurant, you and Nick ate some burgers and talked about your day, about the band, and anything in between.

“Where should we go fishing?” you wondered as you both walked hand in hand back to the car.

Nick helped you into the passenger seat and said, “Oh, I know a spot,” and shut the door before taking his seat.

He drove you to his “secret spot” that “no one knows about”. You both got out of the car and grabbed the fishing poles. He helped you bait the hooks so the fish would be drawn to it. Then you walked to the edge of the water.

“Babe, I don’t think I remember how to fish,” you lied so he’d help you.

“Okay, I can show you how,” he replied as he put his fishing pole down and walked behind you. He put his hands on top of yours and showed you how to swing the pole and reel it back in. Nick talked you through every little detail. When he was done, he kissed your cheek and had you try for yourself. With his hands on his hips, he watched you swing the pole and let the hook fly into the water.

“Baby, look at you! You’re a natural,” Nick praised as he grabbed his fishing pole and stood next to you. He followed your actions and then the both of you fell into a comfortable silence.

After a while of not catching anything and being patient, Nick muttered, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled as you both looked at each other. Nick leaned over and kissed you sweetly. The kiss deepened and your hand reached out and grabbed his. Before anything got heavy, your pole jerked. 

You broke the kiss, “Oh my god! I caught something!”

“Reel it in!” Nick exclaimed. With all your strength, you reeled a huge fish in; Nick helping of course. 

He grabbed the fish by its mouth and his jaw dropped, “Holy shit, babe. You caught a nice one! Should we have fish for dinner? We can catch another one and then we can go home. What do you think?”

“Let’s do that!” you jump with excitement at catching a fish. Nick unhooks the fish and sets it in the cooler he brought. Watching him do his thing while smiling makes your heart warm.

He baits your hook again and you swing it back out. “Seriously, thank you for this. I needed it,” Nick confessed. 

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” you gushed as you kissed him gently.

[consistentlyamess]

Wild Sweetness ⎮ Chapter 1 - Actin' like a sweet car crash

[2.9K]

pairing(s): luca x fem!oc MJ

summary: MJ has just settled in after opening back up a bakery in Chicago when some unexpected news

warnings: not much so far, takes place during and after season 3, 18+ , MDNI, swearing, eventual smut, second chance romance, pining, slowburn, flashbacks in italics, lmk if i missed anything!!

A/N: heeelloo!! this idea has been sloshing around in my head since i watched season 2 and started working on it while waiting for season 3. comments, likes, reblogs are appriciated as always or just come chat at me! And as always 💜💜💜 TY for reading!!!!💜💜💜

Fic Masterlist I Previous Chapter I Next Chapter

London, 5 years earlier 

Everyone warned her about the harsh English autumn dawns. It would be cold and dark and dewy. And it was. But it was also cosy and quiet and nice. She liked that every now and then a grumpy early bird smiled back at her after she handed them their order, she liked that she had a steady trickle of people for a about an hour before the morning rush flooded in and she liked the thought of being done by 3 pm and still getting to go for a walk or sit in the library and study for her classes. But not all of it was fun. Not all the time anyway. There was always one asshole. And sometimes she could deal with them just fine. With a cold but persistent smile on her face. But sometimes they just struck a nerve. 

‘Hi! Welcome to Crumbly Delights, how can I hel- oh, Marcie, hi!’ 

‘Hello, sweetheart, how are you doing?’ 

‘Oh, I’m good, how are you? Long night?’ 

‘You know it. We’re re-organizing the whole kids book section and it just feels like a never-ending task.’ 

‘Woof, I can only imagine. What can I get ya’ darling? And knock yourself out, it’s on me.’ 

‘Oh, now I can’t possibly accept that!’ 

‘Yes, you can and you will! Come on, don’t break the heart of a generous American. And besides, how many times have you let me stay after closing? Or waived late fees?’ 

‘Alright, alright, just this once. I’ll have a raspberry-vanilla danish and a cappuccino to go then.’ 

‘Atta girl, coming right up!’ she said with a warm smile. She didn’t miss the man who walked in with a serious look on his face. Even though he had this boyish streak to him, his eyebrows somehow made him look like he was perpetually stern and concerned about something. She didn’t pay him any mind until she heard him mutter under his breath. 

‘It is waaaay too early to be this chipper in the morning.’ 

She dealt with assholes every single day. She knew how to take care of them, she knew how not to take it personally. But in front of Marcie was another thing. The nicest, wisest British lady, who saved her on so many lonely nights. Not with her. 

‘Well, fuck you too! You wanna try again?’ she replied with a cutting tone. 

They all froze for a moment. Her, fixing this douche with a glare, Marcie, with rounded eyes and a hand raised in front her mouth in surprise, and the douche with a slight embarrassed blush and mouth moving like a fish’s, stranded on shore. She raised an eyebrow that said, ‘try me you dick’. 

‘Uh, uhm’ he started stammering. ‘Shit, sorry, fuck I-uh, I’m sorry! I’m- i’m a chef and I have early mornings and I never, ever wanted to greet anybody like this, at 5 in the morning. I was taken aback a bit, I think, I’m sorry.’ 

‘I’m not a chef, I just work here and I’m paid to be cheerful and nice with dickheads like you all day. So, if you want to buy something, the least you can do is keep your mouth shut if you din’t have anything nice to say.’

‘We- You’re right. I’m sorry. Everything you just said was right. I’ve had a rough week, which is not an excuse, just an explanation. I’m not usually like this.’ 

‘Apology accepted. So, what can I get you today?’ 

‘I’ll just have a coffee and a croissant. Please.

‘Great, coming right up!’ she said, still with a smile on her face. She shot a ‘this fucking guy’ glance at Marcie and got to work on the on orders.

‘Have great day darling, I hope I’ll see you soon at the library.’ Marcie said as she left. 

‘Oh, don’t you worry, you will! Have a great day Marcie!’ The coffee she was making for the douche (she decided, she’ll just call him that) was ready but she thought she’ll take her time with it. 

‘Alright, here’s the croissant and the coffee, it’ll be 5,50 please.’ 

‘Right’ the douche said. He started searching for change in his pocket and she was somewhat ashamed to admit that the flustered haze pleased her a little bit. He eventually put a 10 pound bill on the counter. ‘Here.’ She started looking for change before he said: 

‘No, no-no, I don’t want the change, sorry. I was a dick and this is the least I can do.’ 

‘Well, thank you.’ She started to feel a little bad now. ‘I’m sorry that I snapped at you. It is early and even though you were being a dick, I shouldn’t have.’ 

‘Given the circumstances I think you were remarkably merciful. So, again, sorry, uhm Ma-’ he was looking at her nametag. 

‘Oh, Marjolaine. It’s French. But no one really calls me that.’ 

‘Really? It’s a beautiful name.’ 

‘You already gave me a tip, you don’t have to keep buttering me up. You’re forgiven.’ 

He chuckled at that. 

‘I actually think it’s a beautiful name. And I’m honestly surprised you didn’t spit in my coffee. The servers I worked with definitely would’ve done that.’ 

‘Well, you would’ve seen me do that. Sue us for healthcode violations or just never come back here. Can’t really risk losing business here.’ 

‘Oh, I definitely would’ve come back. Even with the spit, my conscious will only be clear, if i can leave you a tip like three more times’ 

It was now her turn to chuckle a little bit. 

‘Are all chefs such smooth talkers?’ 

‘Most of them are- how should I put this? They do tend to find some enjoyment in uhm, smooth talking and conquests.’ 

She blew raspberries as she laughed in surprise.

‘Conquests? Where are you from? The 1800s? You guys fuck the servers. Everybody knows this since the Kitchen Confidentials, there’s no need to be coy about it.’ 

‘You Americans and your straightforwardness.’ 

‘You guys and your weird prudishness.’ 

‘Well, this is where the Victorian values started. Also, not all chefs shag anything that moves. Pastry chefs generally tend to be a little more tender.’ 

‘Ah, pastry chef, huh?’ 

‘Yup, a late one at that. I better get going.’ He started leaving and she found herself wanting to say something that would make him stay. Almost as if hearing her thoughts, he turned back before stepping out. 

‘I’m Luca by the way. If you’re ever in the neighbourhood, come check out the Mimosa, my treat. Have a nice day.’ 

‘Thanks, you too.’

Chicago, Present day

The first time MJ moved into the small apartment above the bakery she immediately fell in love with the kitchen. It was probably the biggest space in there, wide counters, big fridge, small pantry that definitely made up for the lack of a bathtub. But the absolute knockout had to be the fact that it had not one but two windows. On two different sides making sure that sunshine and light could always get in. A far cry from the gloomy little London apartment she used to have. A far cry even from her first Chicago apartment from like two years ago. Coming back to the States was difficult enough, feeling like she had to start everything over at almost thirty. But there was something about the kitchen and the curtains with the small flower print that immediately had her heart. After moving in, the first thing she did was bake a peach pie. After the frenzy of moving, the uncertainties of starting a new job - the only thing she could think of at that moment, finally stopping after a gruelling month, was baking something. Nothing was unpacked, boxes filled nearly every surface area. Except for the kitchen. Getting ready to bake back then involved setting up her workspace for the first time, which finally filled her with some excitement. Feeling the space, deciding where the pots and pans should go, which drawer should store the cutlery, the cutting boards, the napkins and the clean towels - almost a form of meditation. Peach pie was always the first thing she baked in every new oven she came across. The baking of the crust gave her a general idea about times and temperatures, hot and cold spots in the oven, if it came out burnt or underdone was maybe even better if it turned out perfectly. Gave her more information. The peach had to get a little colour but not too much for it not to get mushy, the sugar or honey glaze on top browning a little but too much. 

She’s made a lot of peach pies since then but none of them felt like this. It was frenetic, hurried, it felt more like something she had to do, not so much something she wanted to do. She was always messy but this went over anything she’s ever done before. Flour everywhere, some eggshell made it into the better, trying to roast the peaches a little turned into burning them quite badly. She huffed and puffed and just couldn’t get her mind to shut off. Her hands weren’t cooperating because she wasn’t really paying that much attention and she knew it. She knew it and hated it. The tense muscles, the tightly shut jaw, her breath in her throat that just would not go deeper, the shakiness of her exhales, the headaches she gets when she can’t relax her face for too long. Everything went on autopilot but that also seemed to be glitching.

Even hours later, running errands, stepping into the bakery to help out, nothing worked. It was stupid. Down right idiotic, really, if she wants to be honest. Which she doesn’t, hence her current predicament. Pacing up and down in the kitchen, waiting for Sophie to finish her shift. Curses being murmured, no use for that of course, but still. She’s hoping that maybe if they keep coming out in these strings, maybe she’ll exorcize something, that maybe the tightness of her chest and the grip of her stomach will eventually go away. Maybe a miracle will strike and she’ll get out of this.  A long shot for sure but which one of us hasn’t hoped for one in times like these? 

‘You okay, boss?’ Sophie asks, finally wandering back to the kitchen. She noticed it earlier for sure but not wanting to hit a nerve, she ignored it. Also hoping that whatever was going on would sort itself out, that she would sort it out, which she somehow always managed to do. Apparently not this time. MJ contemplates for a minute, with a long sigh, with arms wrapping around herself. Cuticles and nails long gone due the anxious gnawing and tearing she’s been keeping at for the last two weeks. 

‘Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry, I’m- you know just-’ 

‘Okay’ Sophie interjected, putting the plates in her hand down. ‘Look, I wasn’t gonna say anything ‘cause maybe it’s none of my business but what the fuck is going on?’ 

She should’ve seen this coming for sure. Sophie always figured it out. She’s been with her since they started the renovations, through the opening, through money troubles, through broken fridges and missed deliveries. If she was being honest, Sophie was as close to best friend as she managed to have in her adult life. She absolutely should’ve known that there was no way of hiding this from her. 

‘Jesus Margo, you’re starting to scare me.’ 

‘I- fuck me! It’s not a scary thing, I promise, it’s just’ Everything comes out in huffs, in between heavy breaths and she kind of hates it. ‘Okay’ steadying breath, palms pressing into the cold metal of the counter while Sophie stays there, waiting. 

‘Do you remember that guy I told you about? The one I met in London?’

‘Sexy pastry chef guy. Of course I remember, still haven’t shown me a picture.’ 

‘Well, you’re in luck. You can see for yourself in, like, 2 days.’

‘What?!’ Sophie’s voice rises, along with her eyebrows, eyes growing big and she simply cannot blame her. ‘But, wait- that’s-’ The wheels are turning and she’s patient. She‘d much rather Sophie put it together for herself than her having to spell it out anyways. ‘No. Are you kidding me?! Sexy pastry chef guy is Luca?’ 

‘Yeah.’ 

‘Luca, from Copenhagen.’ 

‘Yup.’ 

‘Marcus’s mentor, who, I’m still not sure he’s not in love with, Luca?’

‘Yeah, Sophe, that’s all him.’ 

‘But- What?! How’s that even possible? Why the hell didn’t you say anything?’

‘I just- I don’t know, okay? When Marcus first mentioned him when I was too shocked and I couldn’t say anything and then I kept not saying anything while we became friends, thought it would be really weird, and then suddenly almost a year passed and I thought, well, now it would be really fucking weird to say anything and I just kept on not saying anything and then Marcus said he was visiting and- I don’t know, it all just got away from me a little.’ 

‘No shit.’ Sophie can’t even be mad. The fear and the sadness that settled into her MJ’s eyes is more than enough for her to know that this is not the time for scoldings you could’ve told mes and the like. ‘Again, how’s that even possible?’ she asks, still wanting to understand at the very least. 

‘It’s not that complicated, really. I was in London for two years during college, with a scholarship. We met there, my scholarship ran out, he got Noma, I moved back here, he went to Copenhagen and we broke up not too long after that.’ Still vague, still no details, still hesitant and a little closed off. Sophie nods. Not the time for prodding either. 

‘Do you want to close up, get really drunk and continue this after?’ 

‘Absolutely, I do.’ 

‘Good.’ 

***

After going through the motions, closing up shop, it’s still just 7PM. Perks of running a bakery. 

‘Is it okay to ask how you see this playing out?’ Sophie finally chimes over her third glass of Pinot. 

‘No fucking clue.’ They both laugh because this is ridiculous. Absolutely hysterical.

‘Maybe he doesn’t even remember me, you know? It’s been a while.’ 

‘Yeah, fat fucking chance of that happening.’ 

‘Yeaaaah, I’ll just have to suck this one up, I think.’ 

‘You still could just talk to Marcus, you know? Tell him not to bring him to the bakery or work something out, change shifts, bring him when you’re not there. Or you can still just get the fuck away. Make an excuse about someone’s cat dying or whatever.’

‘Sure, not suspicious at all. Also Marcus is so excited. And it’s already eating me up that I didn’t tell him earlier.’

‘How has he not figured it out though? Luca, I mean, not Marcus. Your name is a pretty huge giveaway. It’s not like there are a shit ton of Marjolaines running around Chicago.’

‘Well, Luca never knew that I ended up in Chicago. When I moved back, I went back to San Francisco. It wasn't until a couple of months that Dylan called me about the bakery. And as for the name, Marcus was the one who started calling me MJ. My best guess is he calls me that with him too and he ever felt the need to explain how that happened.’

‘Right.’ They fell silent for a while. MJ loved these nights. Hanging around for a couple more hours, for a couple more drinks. The bakery was closed, but the smells still lingered. The sweetness of vanilla, the fattiness of butter, the slight bitterness of cooked or baked fruit, lights out, most of it leaking out from the kitchen and seeping in from the streets. Lower, softer, warmer twinkles that would only stop the hardest of stone-cold hearts from opening up a little. Even now, when the jig was up and she had to actually face what was coming her way, which did kind of feel like watching a car crash in slow motion.

‘Is it okay if I ask questions about him?’ Sophie asked eventually.

MJ just nodded, eyes a little hazy. Of course she can. When, if not know? Memories being stirred up and tongue loosening from the wine. She still appreciates it. The checking in, the earnestness and caution of this younger generation.

‘How long were you guys actually together?’

‘About two and a half years.’ 

‘Did you love him?’ 

‘Shit, Sophe, big fucking questions tonight.’ 

‘Sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just- you never talk about him. And until now I thought it was because it was just kind of a fling or something. Hot pastry chef, college years, you know, the works. But seeing you now, I’m starting to think it might have been the opposite.’ 

‘Meaning?’ 

‘You know what I mean, bitch.’ Sophie pushed her shoulder a little and a laugh spilled out of her despite the ache in her chest that not even the wine could dull down.

‘It’s been such a long time. But yeah, yeah, I loved him.’ 

Sophie just hummed. 

‘Why did you guys break up?’ 

MJ just groaned as if she pulled a muscle she didn’t really use. 

‘Can I plead the fifth on that one? Just for tonight. It’s a long and sad story and-’

‘Hey, of course, you don’t have to explain.’ 

‘Okay, look!’ she slammed her glass down, turning towards her, wine splashing up on either side. ‘We can do this, alright? ‘ I’m sure Marcus will understand, and as for that douchebag-’

‘He’s not a douchebag.’ 

‘Well, he fumbled you, so he will have to try and prove that to me. So. As for that douchebag, you can handle it, and I’ll be here with you, the whole time. How long is he staying?’ 

‘I don’t know, I didn’t have follow-up questions.’ 

‘Nevermind, it doesn’t even matter, we’ll get through this, okay?’ 

MJ nodded. Sophie’s confidence was moving but she wasn’t nearly as sure of that as she was.

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Misconduct Chapter 3

I really don't have a description for this chapter one. We finally get to see some of reader though.

For Tumblr Description Only: Turns out I didn’t add this last upload to tumblr but had it on ao3.

So notes for certain visuals, feel free to of course adjust to your liking:

*Y/N vehicle list *for now*: 1980’s Buick Grand National. All black, of course. Also dark tints, for sure (pls yes, perfect condition)

*Genesis’ vehicle *yanno he’s got some rich shit*: 2016 Rolls Royce, maroon and with seats to match. (I’ll get to the custom specifics later)

I have something special for Tseng but we don't see him around too much for a bit so I won't be adding here.

I guess POV’s will be changing. Makes it easier to write, dunno how to swap them smoothly. I’ll state when and who POV it changes to. Please lol, I don’t know how to address pov’s decently so work with me.

Reader pov: 

“We're short a package.” You state groggily, yawning as you read over the inventory list again. Moving the clipboard impossibly close to your face as you follow each line with your pen. It was 2am by now and your desire to go to bed was becoming greater than your need to nitpick through each shipment. Then again, it was your job to make sure everything was accounted for. Even being a single item off would raise a lot of questions, making your job far harder for yourself than it needed to be. The tasks were easy in your eyes and didn't require you to do much besides risk your livelihood on occasion. This was the third time the new shipment has been counted. Pulling the clipboard away from your face, glancing in the direction of the newcomer you were stuck with for the day. A frown taking over your features as you think back on your distaste when it comes to working with anyone. Everything goes so smooth when you’re alone, usually never having a complication.

You were certain it wasn’t your fault the numbers were off. Inwardly groaning as you walked over to him, “Hey, Paul. You can head out for the night. I’ll wrap this up, we’ve got most of the count complete anyways.” 

Paul, an average height, darker toned male with glasses, couldn’t have been any older than 18 you presumed. A patchy, scruffy beard lining his chin with a connecting mustache turns and gives you a worried look. His voice adds on to your overwhelming desire to get him out of this building. It was like the man wouldn’t even open his mouth when speaking, mumbling each word so low you could hardly hear him. Really you wanted to ask ‘what the fuck did you just say’, but you were doing your damndest to be nice. It wasn’t like you’d have to deal with the kid very often. “I won’t get paid if I leave now?” 

‘I’ll pay you myself if it gets you the hell away from me’ sighing as he goes back to rifling through each herbal bag. Your voice stops him from his actions.”Who’s going to know you left early? I truly don’t care, you’ve done enough today anyways and it’s late.” Adding a point in to further sway things to your liking, “It’s free money, why say no?” 

Considering your offer for a quick moment before asking with a hint of hope in his voice, “Are you sure?” 

Poor boy, he looked exhausted anyway. No doubt this sort of lifestyle is having an effect on him, wearing him down quickly. Too bad he’ll find out the hard way that once you’re a part of this scene, leaving without going in a body bag wasn’t very much guaranteed. 

“Don’t worry, if you’re working with me I’ll try to accommodate as much as possible.” Your words echoing in your mind were far more harsh, ready to restart the count so you can carry on with the inventory process and get back to the comfort of your bed. Truly it wasn’t entirely his fault you were in a sour mood, over the course of the week you’ve hardly had a moment to rest. Having the next day off should prove as a nice reward for being stuck with such a large shipment. 

Finally accepting your offer after a bit of persuading, Paul hands you the sheet of the count that he’s ‘completed’ up to this point. Glancing over the form as he retreats to grab his bag, watching him in the corner of your eye to make sure he doesn’t take anything on his way out. After he leaves you immediately disregard the form he gave to you, tucking it behind the sheet of paper you were filling out on your clipboard. That wouldn’t be of any use to you. 

Sighing as you look at the mess of little white pouches on the floor, each one with a unique four digit item number on the front in a large, bold Times New Roman font. The name of each herb underneath the item number along with a small description of its intended purpose, from sleep, focus, energy, etc. Sorting through Paul’s side of the inventory count would be troublesome. Leaving the items in an unorganized state, like items that were supposed to be placed together stuffed in random bins.  

After hours of reorganizing the packages by item number and weight you finally get the inventory count to match the shipment log, each herbal product being properly counted for. Not a single package is missing. Good, you can finally get out of here with what little sanity you have left. Storing them in the small warehouse, a series of tall silver wire shelves lining the walls, three lined up to create a few aisles. You neatly store each item in their labeled location. A look of relief crossing your face as you toss the last item in its designated place. 

God, you couldn’t be more excited to leave. Heading in the direction of the small office tucked in the far back corner of the warehouse, making sure to deposit the papers containing your count in the filing cabinet behind the small oak desk. You begin grabbing your belongings, stuffing your laptop into your backpack in a hurry before placing it on your back. Digging into the pockets of your black cargo pants for your keys as you make your way to the rear exit, locking the door behind you and giving it an extra tug to be sure the door was secure. 

Rolling your eyes as you get to your car, throwing your bag over the driver's side, landing into the passenger seat with a thud. ‘Fuck,’ you forgot to enter in the results on the spreadsheet. Knowing you have a bit of leeway in your place of work you decide you’ll worry about it later, it was something you could do from home anyway. Besides, it’s five in the morning and you haven’t achieved an ounce of shut eye in what felt like the last twenty-four hours. Plopping into your seat you start the car, the motor roaring to life. The sound of your straight piped exhaust making your car twice as loud as it should be. Something your neighbors often complained about in the past. After a few choice words caused them to quickly quiet themselves down. 

Pulling out of the parking lot and speeding your way through sector three. Lucky for you the streets weren’t too busy, a Saturday morning coupled with it being so early, working out in your favor so you could barrel your way through the streets to your home in sector two. Only slowing down through areas you knew were patrolled by Shinra squad cars and yielding for an innocent driver you nearly sideswiped in your half asleep stupor. Probably not the most ideal condition to drive around in. How else would you get home though?  

Finally making it to your subdivision. A large, wealthy area on the border of sector one and two. One of the few areas in Midgar where the houses were a decent distance apart, the houses having yards with perfectly cared for grass. Each house follows a similar structure, two and three story style homes, tan and gray brick homes. A few of them here and there are decorated with vinyl siding, matching the colors of the brick homes. Driving into the long, inclined driveway leading to the big detached garage of your own two story home. It wasn’t the biggest house in the neighborhood, but it was an upgrade from your upbringing in the slums. Fitted with massive picture windows on the bottom floor and a small portion of the top floor and arched windows on the top floor. Like the other homes the yard was well kept, bushes that were along the front of the house evenly trimmed. 

Parking outside of the garage proceeding to climb out of the car. Hardly remembering to grab your bag on the way out, you slam the door shut before following the walkway to the front door. The lack of sleep fully catches up to you causing you to drag your feet along the way, your fingers fumbling the keys as you unlock the door. There was only one thought in your head. ‘Sleep.’ Slowly making your way to the living room you can’t help but drop your bag on the floor besides the large white sectional. Your arms feel as though they aren't capable of performing any miniscule task. Not even bothering to take your boots off you sprawl out on the couch, dangling your feet off of the edge in an attempt to keep your shoes off of the fine fabric. Having no intentions on leaving for the duration of the day,you drift off to sleep in no time.

**Genesis+Tseng pov**

5am wasn’t early in Genesis’ world, not by any means. It still didn’t mean he was in a pleasant state of mind at this time. His mood quickly soured as another driver almost slams into him during his commute to safety training, the original source of his frustrations. 

Narrowing his eyes at the rogue driver as they attempt to give Genesis the right of way, coming close to already blowing his cover as he realizes he was conveniently coming face to face with you. ‘Speak of the devil and they shall appear right?’ Though he was driving ahead of you Genesis made sure to keep you within view, watching your car through the mirrors of his own. Fishing the PHS out of his pocket, Genesis calls the number saved for Tseng silently urging him to answer as he watches you in his rearview mirror. turn into a suburban area. 

Inwardly cursing as he watches you turn into a suburban area. He got lucky coming across you so quickly, by any means Genesis was going to trail you. He needed to get this mission over with as soon as possible. Genesis wasn’t a great driver, but he was a legal one. There was no wonder the wild u-turn he executed almost caused two other drivers to crash. That really wasn’t his problem, focused wholly on following you as requested of him three days prior. 

Ending the call and immediately dialing Tseng’s number again. Once more being met with voicemail, ‘What did he give me this for if he wasn’t going to answer it?!’ Genesis couldn’t help but think about how unprofessional it was of Tseng to not pick up. Keeping in mind that the lead Turk is a busy person. Yet, Genesis was not caring if he was or not. This is urgent. Though, wasn’t everything else Tseng dealt with? 

Tossing the PHS into the center console, Genesis tails your vehicle. Maybe he could’ve done this with far more tact, only being about two car lengths away from you while tracking you to your next location. Trailing closely behind as you take him through the winding roads of this subdivision. 

“Could’ve sworn Tseng said they were more attentive than this.” Genesis muttered under his breath as he parked in front of your neighbor's home. Scrutinizing you as he watched you walk to the door of your home and pull out a set of keys. ‘There’s no way they live here.’ Thinking back on your poor track record overall in life and lack of work history. Genesis can’t seem to think that someone like you would be living within a twenty minute radius of himself. Whatever you were doing was clearly paying off.

The sound of the PHS ringing, jarring Genesis out of his thoughts. Swiftly grabbing the device, answering and pressing the mobile device against his face. Genesis’ voice takes on the tone of a scolding father, similar to Angeal scolding Sephiroth and Genesis for their childish behavior. “Where were you when I called the first time? What am I to do when my assistant doesn’t answer his phone?” 

At first Tseng didn’t think much of Genesis’ words, expecting the sassy attitude out of the red haired man. Something about Genesis' words caught him off guard. Leaving an almost bitter taste in Tseng’s mouth at being referred to as his assistant. The realization of the little statement caused Tseng to stop his explanation. “I was in a meet- I don’t recall a time I’ve ever ranked low enough to be your assistant.” 

“Low enough?!” Genesis almost couldn’t believe his ears at Tseng’s insult. In reality he had no choice but to swallow his pride and accept the jab at his rank. It was no secret Tseng outranked many in Shinra due to his cushy little place at Rufus’ feet. Begrudgingly returning to the reason he called, “I found (y/n) on my way to training. Think I’ve found out where they live now. This isn’t the same place you have in your files, assuming they’ve moved recently.” 

In an attempt to make himself less obvious, Genesis sheds his coat before stepping out of his car. Only so much could be done while approaching a stranger's home this early in the morning. The bare minimum he could accommodate was not approaching your property while practically waving a flag that screams ‘look at me’. Be discreet right? He’s prepared for this, he thinks. Having acquired a few tools to help along the way from Scarlet the day after his meeting with Tseng. The door shut with a thud which didn’t go unnoticed by the darker haired male. 

“What are you doing?” Tseng’s voice had a skeptical tinge to it. He could practically hear Tseng rubbing his face in a stressed manner as he’s able to tell Genesis left his hidden spot to do who knows what. “Do not approach them at their home, we don’t know what you’re getting into yet.” 

“Already on it.” Genesis announced almost proudly, ignoring Tseng’s direct command as he marches up the driveway of your home. Having been waiting outside for the past fifteen minutes, he was almost sure you wouldn’t be coming out any time soon. Examining his surroundings as he approaches your car, finally noticing the cameras posted around the outside of your home. He made his way up here now. No point in tucking tail and running. Advancing towards your car while surveying the area, being mindful to be sure nobody was in near to spot him. 

“I asked what you’re doing. You can not make decisions on your own in this case. Is this not why you’re here now?” 

The reminder from Tseng did nothing to persuade Genesis from pulling the small stick on tracker out of his pocket. Situating himself on the ground, sliding under the side of your car just enough to secure it in place on the inner portion of your frame behind the driver’s side wheel. “I’m making a way to find them more efficiently.” Quickly rising to his feet, Genesis heads back to his own vehicle, sparing a few glances around on his way. Without hesitation Genesis settles himself back into his car and drives away.

“Tseng, what you should be doing is thanking me. There’s now a tracker attached to their car and it’s already synced to this PHS.” The help from Scarlet comes into play. The tracker was a tiny device, hidden well enough that it shouldn’t be noticed for quite some time, if at all. One thing Genesis wasn’t interested in was patrolling the city in a vain attempt to find a single person. As it stands it wasn’t unusual for Genesis to see you in the area, your way of driving and choice of such a loud set up would make you stand out and be memorable for anyone. He knew it was only a matter of time before you crossed paths again. The occurrence happening sooner than later was a complete stroke of luck on his part as his investigation to your last known address proved to be listed for sale.

Tseng had low faith that Genesis went completely undetected in his actions. However, he could admit that this was an advantage in two ways. One, having your location whenever you made a move. Two, knowing where you live. It was a slight surprise to Tseng that you may have moved once more, knowing you weren’t even at your last place of residence for a year. “Get back to HQ, I need the tracking information shared with me as well as their address. What time was your training?” 

Scoffing as Genesis navigated back to the Shinra building, his hope to miss safety training almost straining his very soul. “Six a.m, mind you, it’s a quarter to six now.” His silent prayer may be answered by the goddess above. With the amount of time it would take for him to arrive combined with exchanging information with Tseng there’s no way he would have to suffer through that for the day. 

“We can work around it, I can have it rescheduled for this afternoon's class.” 

Genesis was sure Tseng was getting a kick out of this. There was no mistaking the mirth in his voice as he made it known there were numerous time slots for these classes. ‘Since when did Shinra take safety seriously?’ This wouldn’t consist of anything but a couple of slideshows and materia introductions, so why was it so imperative that Genesis took these classes? 

“Yeah, sure whatever. I’m on my way.” Ending the call without bothering to see if Tseng had anything left to say. 

[sicparvismorrigan]

Friendly Fire - Chapter Two: Acting Up

Ellie Thibodeaux holds arguably the worst job in Bridgehead City. She’s not a cook. She’s not even a cleaner. She’s the resident RDA psychiatrist, and her next assignment is helping the formerly deceased Project Phoenix come to terms with being brought back to life as an entirely different species.

Enter Colonel Miles Quaritch, the most reluctant, and most challenging patient she’s ever had the displeasure of treating.

James Cameron’s Avatar - The Way of Water (2022)

Recombinant Quaritch x ofc (currently professional/platonic, enemies/annoyances to friends, could be more & Quaritch x Paz Socorro

Warnings: mild swears

Tagging: @kmc1989 (lmk if you want added to the taglist!)

Read on Ao3

Chapter One | Chapter Three

Acting Up

That’s just the Colonel, sweetheart! Try harder next time, m’kay?

Try harder?

Like he wasn’t some impassable brick wall of a man…alien…whatever…that she had absolutely zero common ground with?

Nope. Just try harder.

Sure thing, boss.

Luckily, her other patients were gradually warming up to her. Wainfleet was surprisingly forthcoming, after he figured out that Tibbs wasn’t the only one who liked comic books. Just a big kid with a gun. Absolutely nothing to dissect there.

Zdinarsk had shyly asked for help managing her braid, then invited Ellie to “come hang” with her and the other recoms sometime, whatever that meant.

It was only Quaritch who was being deliberately obtuse.

But Ellie had another problem. She was the talk of Bridgehead. Sure, for the reason that the Colonel was her new patient. And for the bigger issue that somebody had blabbed about her missing arm. Now there were stares and sly sideways looks wherever she went. She couldn’t stand the whispering. It made her mad as all Hell that she was no longer invisible. That everybody knew her by sight and reputation, for her handicap.

I am not a victim. I am a survivor.

The mantra her very own ‘shrink’ had given her as armour. Over and over and over in her head.

Session Two did not get off to a good start. She’d have bet her next paycheque on Quaritch ditching her couch.

In fact, he’d shown up early. She was the one who was late by being on time.

Jeez, she couldn’t stand him. She was going to be extremely unprofessional in 3…2…1…

“Off the record, before we begin-“ Ellie spoke up as she lowered herself into her human-sized chair. “Can I have a word with you?”

“Sure thing, shrink-wrap.”

”Stop-“ She grumbled and rubbed her temples. “Hm. Kindly refrain from calling me that, please.”

“Since you asked nicely.”

Ellie sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

“I’ll save it for special occasions.”

She groaned out loud.

“And bank holidays.”

“You-…” Ellie faltered before regaining her rhythm and setting her mouth in a firm line. “Ugh, whatever.”

Quaritch was looking at her expectantly.

“So-“ She demanded. “Who’d you tell about my arm?!”

“Say what now?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“People have been talking about me behind my back, since our last session.” She complained. “I don’t appreciate that. Not one bit.”

“Hey there-“ He held up a hand to hush her. ”I ain’t said shit about your rusty-ass arm!”

She regarded him suspiciously. His expression was genuine enough. ”Really?”

“Not a word.” The Colonel actually looked offended. “What, you think you’re the first handicap I’ve worked with?”

Of course she wasn’t. There was another.

“You ain’t special.” He huffed. “So you done actin’ up? Or what?”

“Well, somebody said something.” Ellie muttered.

“Good thing I’m not paying for your so-called help, ‘cause so far: not impressed. Un-pro-fess-io-nal.” He emphasised each syllable, making her cower down in embarrassment. “Now, where were we?”

Ellie hated it. Couldn't stand how he just took control over anything she tried to do.

”Oh yeah. That’s right…“ He leaned closer to her, fixing her with an intense stare. “What bit ya?”

”Nuh-uh.” Ellie shook her head. “Not doing it.”

“Come on now, Doc. Holding out on me will get you nowhere. I’m a patient man.”

Now she had him.

Ellie cocked an eyebrow, glancing up from her notebook. ”Man?”

A cheap shot. And it clearly stung like a mother. Fight instincts of both human and alien beast kicked in. Fists clenched and fangs bared before the Colonel could collect himself.

She didn’t so much as blink at his intimidation tactic and once again the room was plunged into silence.

“Hey now. Are you done-“ She spoke calmly, mimicking his tone, letting her lips curl upwards into a smirk. “-acting up?”

”Smart mouth.” He nodded slowly, almost appreciatively. “So tell me, what exactly did you plan on doing next?”

“Next?” She was lost.

“I could give you a disciplinary for your attitude towards a superior officer.” Ellie felt the beads of sweat break out on her forehead, even in the air-conned space. “Easily. But I’m interested to see how this plays out, so I’m gonna let that one slide.”

”Why?” She didn’t understand.

“That was a nice little spark.” He grinned. “Took you long enough. But I want to see if I can get you breathing fire.”

Ellie blinked, taken aback. Did he just green-light her to cuss him out?

It would be plumbing the depths of professional conduct for sure, but they didn’t exactly teach you how to deal with the dead resurrected in medical school.

Quaritch rolled his eyes at her, still gawping at him stupidly.

“Listen. Ardmore isn’t the only one around here who can get you the things you need.” He spelled it out for her. “Or want. So play nice.”

“Huh.” She mulled the thought over. Interesting.

“Talk.” He urged her.

Ellie sighed heavily. He really wasn’t going to drop it. May as well put the elephant in the room out of its misery.

Here we go.

”A former patient attacked me. I wanted to refer him to someone else, and he didn’t take it very well at all.” She explained quietly. ”He choked out my receptionist…then came after me.”

Quaritch nodded, his expression neutral. No shock, but no sympathy, no condolence either. “How’d you get away?”

There was a long pause.

”Barely.” She swallowed the bile back down as she finally answered. Trickle-feed the information.

Make the bond.

“I see.” The Colonel remained stony-faced. “Been there, kid.”

“Uh-huh.”

Not a victim not a victim not a victim.

“Listen, you ain’t the only one here got bit by something you staked your trust in.” Ellie’s head jerked, when Colonel spoke again, he sounded surprisingly gentle. “You just have the mighty fine privilege of still being alive in the traditional sense.”

“For the record-“ She admitted “-I spoke out against bringing you back, Quaritch.”

Hoo boy, that might sting too.

“That’s cold, girly.” The snarl was lingering around the corners of his mouth again, fangs glinting with every word. “You wanted me to stay dead, huh?”

“No rest for the wicked.” She answered dryly. “But maybe you deserve that.”

“Pretty sure the entire Na’vi population would agree with you there.” He nodded. “But a philosophiser you ain’t, you’re one of them other p-words that get paid a lot more.”

Ellie frowned, unsure if he was strategically calling her other bad names in lieu of shrink-wrap.

“Project Phoenix is unethical. But since there is no moral legislation for Pandoran natives, or recombinants, my hands are tied. I’ve been told to treat you, so I have to.” It was her turn to spell things out. “But, I’m not sure how much I can help someone who so clearly doesn’t want it.”

”True.” He agreed. “So then just give up.”

“No!” Ellie fired back. “What part don’t you get about I have to?”

“If you’re so convinced I’m beyond saving, Doc-“ He spread his hands out wide for emphasis “-why even bother? Throw in the towel.”

“I’ve been given this assignment by Ardmore.” “I need to see it through.” She insisted. “Even if you don’t get anything out of this…at least I tried.”

“Oh, I’m getting plenty.” The Colonel nodded. “But no job’s worth wasting your life on.”

”That what you tell your troops?” Project Phoenix was potentially a suicide mission.

“They know what’s at stake. And as for you…you ain’t got my respect, yet.” Quaritch smiled grimly. “But you have my attention, for now.”

“Maybe that’s enough.” Ellie suggested. “For us to work together.”

“Symbiosis.” He nodded. “I like a project.”

Ellie wrinkled her nose in indignation. He was supposed to be her project.

“My men tell me you’re alright.” Quaritch mentioned abruptly. “‘Tibbs ain’t as bad as the other science pukes’, that’s what they said.”

“Did they now?” Ellie’s interest was piqued.

“Where I’m from, that’s a hefty compliment.” He cocked his head, ears pricking up. “I heard Z offered you an invitation.”

“She did.”

”I also heard you ain’t taken her up on it yet.”Quaritch tutted and gave her a stern look that made her want to disappear down into her own boots, like a child being scolded. “Bad manners.”

“I, uh-…“ The scientists didn’t socialise with the recom soldiers. It wasn’t a hard-and-fast rule, but it might as well be.

“You’d do well to accept that offer, while it lasts.” He warned her. “Or I’ll go back to callin’ ya shrink-wrap.”

”I’ll think about it, Colonel.” Ellie offered a small smile.

“Good.” Finally, he seemed pleased about something. “Be seein’ ya then, kiddo.”

After he left, she sat for a long time, trying to analyse their session so she could write her report. Trying to analyse him.

Quaritch wasn’t the only one holding one Hell of a grudge. Who would stop at nothing for vengeance against those who had crossed them.

She understood. Because they were the same.

Ellie would have given another of her limbs to avenge the one she’d lost. To make the bastard that took her arm, and very nearly her life, suffer beyond belief.

She and the Colonel had more in common than either of them were willing to admit.

***

Thanks for reading!

[minato-division03]

ARB Birthday Special: Reiaki Suzubayashi

~ June 14th ~

“Rock bottom will teach you lessons that mountain tops never will.”

Login Lines

“YAAAAAAAAHOO! Hell yeah, it’s my birthday yet again! I’m a whole ‘nother year older and I’m still somehow not dead yet! BOO YEAH!”

“Sometimes a day to kick back and chill is nice… but gotta admit! A day to be productive and get a whole lot of work done is the way to go! Now that’s a real self-pamper on my own birthday!”

Voice Lines

“Okay! So I think for the day, it looks like I’ve gotta head out to one of the luxury resorts out here! I, uh… I needa double check which hotel it is, my squirrel brain just doesn’t remember, ha! Her Majesty’s filming today so I gotta get her all dressed up for TV! Today’s a good day to be celebrating with other employees, some of my favorite people in the city! I had a video edited and all ready to go on this epic day, so it’s gonna be an ultra productive day today!”

“I just loved, loved, loved reading through all my fans’ sweetest birthday messages! It felt like I was just being showered with nonstop love! I did receive some early presents in my P.O. Box, and I don’t think that’s gonna be the end of it… oh well! I’ll never say ‘no’ to presents! Lots of fan letters, little spoopy plushies, and lots more!”

“Gah!! Holy shit, Your Majesty, you scared the dark soul outta me! I know! Can you believe it?! Pffft! The hell’re you talking about, Your Majesty? You on something? Fuck, nothing gets past you, huh? What does it matter, anyway… you probably can read what’s on my mind anyway… hah! I… it happened again. Truthfully… I received a letter from… him yesterday… Reminds me to wonder what the hell whatever afterlife entity is out there must be thinking— since they let me of all people live… like, why me? What’s even worse… I feel like I’m going to kill someone very important to me one of these days… Because I can’t control myself…! Hah! I’m pathetic, aren’t I… Sorry, I didn’t wanna dump all this on you… But I guess I do feel a bit better yapping on and on like that! Sniff!”

“‘Hold out my hands,’ you say… I don’t know if I trust you all that much when you’re like this… ugh, okay fine, I’m closing my eyes… The hell is this? A frame with a clown hand…is this Pennywise from the movie ‘It’? You made this?! Ohhhh my god, how do you find the time to make stuff like this all the time? I mean, I guess… Hehe… I think my roommates love it already…! And I definitely think it’s cute, too! Thank you, Your Majesty… Man, I wouldn’t trade being with you and Miku for anything in the world…”

“Oh, Miku-chan! It… it’s nothing! Sniff! Anyway, did you need something? Awwww, thanks! You got me something, too? Ooooo lemme see lemme see!”

“Oh, that’s cute! It 100% fits in with my room! I’ll bring these into my room and then we can all set out for today’s activities! Dang, you’re not usually this expressive! Thanks a bunch Miku-chan, you really made my day! Thank you… Can I hug you? Awww!!! Really, thank you so much… I don’t know what I’d do without you or Her Majesty… Thank you for still putting up with me…”

Queen Card Lines

“Dear me, is it your second birthday as an esteemed member of R.I.P Märchen already? Heavens, how time has passed. Though it would seem you are not exactly in a celebratory mood. Talk to me, my dear, what’s the matter? Reiaki-chan… That may be so… however, you will surely feel relieved to release what is on your mind. I see, tell me more. Did something happen to warrant this most recent case? So it bothers you to this extent… It would seem that before we embark on the drive to the hotel, I have matters of my own to take care of, my dear…”

“I may have the thing to lift your spirits. Hold out your hands, my dear. Tis but a simple frame crafted with my own two hands. Just the same way you craft all of your prosthesis yourself rather than going out to buy pre-made ones. Hang this up in your room along with the thousands of other ornamentations you possess. And I to you, you are a valuable asset to this team, no… all of Tokyo. Thank you for being you.”

Miku Lines:

“Hey, Reiaki… Happy birth— Your eyes are red and puffy… are you okay…? O-okay, then… just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, that’s all…”

“You’ve been collecting the candles I’ve been making for you, but they’re just… there. So here’s something you can use to hold them. And since you’re a big fan of all things cooky and grim, I think this fits your room just fine. And it’s made out of jesmonite, so it’s totally sustainable. Aish… you’re welcome… Happy Birthday… Ugh… just this one time…”

The colors that surround you… they’re tainted. Dull… grey… that vividness I see on you all the time isn’t there now. You haven’t been this tainted since…

Is it because of that person? How fucking dare he… This is the one day Reiaki should be full of life and surrounded by the most beautiful of colors… I hope he’s proud of himself for this… I’ll kill him one of these days…

[sweet-self-indulgence]

Bleeding Out Part 3: Bonus Pizza Intermission Chapter

I had this scene in my head while writing, but I didn’t want tonal whiplash in either of the other 2 chapters. So, here’s some bonus fluff where they suffer only a little bit. <- when I wrote this note I thought there would be significantly less emotions 🙃

Also, a formal apology to Damien fans. I love him too! I just couldn’t see him doing anything other than being non-verbal in response to this kind of stress.

“You all look like shit.”

The comment is so undeniably Sam. Relief washes over Mika. He’s here, he’s really here!

The other incubi are roused by the sound of his voice as well. James, Erik, and Matthew all start talking over each other

“We need updates on—”

“—energy is okay for now—”

“Dude! What happen—”

Mika tunes them out and focuses on Sam. Their intertwined hands squeeze reassuringly. A tear slides down her cheek and drops into her lap. Sam’s eyes go wide, he lifts his head a fraction before—

“Oh, shit he fainted!”

“Thank you, Matthew”, James sighs. He goes to slide his glasses up his nose but startles when he finds no glasses there. He looks down at his hand tainted a deep golden yellow. “We need energy, fast.”

Erik chimes in, “and to clean up”, gesturing with his bloodied hand towards Mika, Damien, and Matthew with their own copious blood stains.

“Not to mention the, uh—mess in the entryway…” Mathew adds.

“And sleep is a thing”, Mika’s so exhausted that her eyes feel like sandpaper.

“Okay.” James holds his hand up, “Mika, call in some delivery then go and wash up. You’ll have to get the food at the door. It typically takes 30 minutes for delivery. Erik and I can clean the foyer while Matthew and Damien wash up.”

“I’ll stay here with Sam I don’t need to wash up”, Mika volunteers.

James kneels in from of her and states gently, but firmly, “We need you to interact with the driver. We won’t be able to glamor until we get some food and rest.”

Mika opens her mouth to argue but is cut off, “You can take the first shift watching Sam while you make the call. I’ll come relive you, then switch with Erik. By then Matthew or Damien should be done.”

Reluctant to admit defeat, at least verbally, Mika pulls out her phone and starts dialing the closest pizza parlor. James nods and places a warm hand on her shoulder before scattering with the rest of his brothers.

She intends to draw the call out, maybe she can spend 15 minutes with Sam, but as soon as he hears the employee on the other end of the line ask, “What can I get for you?”, a ravenous hunger takes over her mind. She simply states, “One thousand dollars worth of pizza.”

For some reason this does not phase the employee, payment details are exchanged quickly, and Mika has the customary half hour until delivery.

James comes to relive her all too early. The sickening smell of blood and cleaning chemicals wafts in with him. Mika fights back the nausea but elects to take the back stairway up to her room.

When she enters her bathroom, her reflection takes her by surprise. The woman she sees is absolutely filthy. She’s soaked in blood from her feet to her knees, with splatter across her thighs. Her hands are stained almost to the elbows and there are generous smears across her cheek and forehead and into her hair.

Mika glances at her nice deep bathtub longingly then shakes her head. In my state I’d just be sitting in a pool of bloody water after five minutes. She sighs and turns the shower to its hottest setting. Dried blood cracks and falls onto the floor as Mika peels her grimy clothes off. Sam’s blood has soaked through to stain her skin in places.

She sits in the shower, scrubbing one body part at a time. When the water swirling the drain finally runs clear, Mika reaches up to turn off the water. She wraps a towel around herself as she steps out of the tub.

A hand reaches up to wipe the condensation off the mirror. Mika’s stomach roils as she notices the blood caked under her fingernails. She scrubs her hands frantically in the sink, jamming whatever tools she can finger under her nails to scrub the blood out.

The sink suddenly turns off. Mika startles as she sees Damien in the mirror. He’s dripping wet from his shower too. He gently grabs her fingers, pulls them up to his lips and kisses her knuckles softly. He grabs a towel and pats her hands dry. Mika winces as he rubs lotion into her hands, it stings where the skin is rubbed raw.

“I’m sorry”, Mika feels her chin wobble, “It’s just all too much right now…”

Damien rubs her arms, then drags her into her bedroom. He pulls sweatpants, a t-shirt, fuzzy socks, and cotton underwear from her dresser. As he turns to leave, Mika catches his elbow. Without argument, he sits at the end of the bed and dutifully stares at the floor while she puts on the clothes.

When she finishes, she sits beside him and pulls him in for a hug. Suddenly she notices he’s also wearing sweatpants. She knows how much he prefers his human form so it’s not that surprising. But no shirt?, she thinks.

Damien taps a finger on his horn in response. Of course, the neck hole…Mika shoots off the bed and produces one of Sam’s flannel button downs from the closet. Damien gratefully takes the offered shirt.

As he buttons it, the doorbell causes both of them to jump. Mika dashes to the front door, she snaps her eyes shut against the intrusive memories as her feet land on the final step. She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes to find the room surprisingly clean. The faint smell of bleach causes her to wrinkle her nose, but at least the stench of blood is gone.

The doorbell startles her out of her thoughts, and she runs to open the door, “Sorry I was—Wow that’s a lot of food!”

The delivery driver shrugs their shoulders, “Guy said you asked for a thousand dollars’ worth.”

“Right. Yeah. I was so hungry I didn’t know what I was saying!” Mika quickly slides the stacks of pizza boxes just inside the door.

As they turn away, the driver mumbles, “stupid rich people.”

Mika sighs in relief as she closes the door. She grabs a handful of boxes and meets the hungry incubi in the living room. The room is quiet at first as everyone devours their own pizza.

The aching, hollow, hunger she feels surprises Mika, even after devouring an entire pie by herself. Wordlessly, she grabs another armload of boxes from where she left them stacked by the door. The boys must feel the same way since they pounce on the second helping as quickly as the first.

A few slices in, Mika is able to focus on something other than eating again. “What the fuck?”, she blurts out. Four concerned expressions whip around to face her. Mika can only point towards James’ hand where he holds two slices of pizza folded on top of each other so that the cheese is inside two crusts.

“Is something wrong with my food?”

James looks genuinely alarmed, and Mika quickly clarifies, “Why are you holding it like that?!”

“I… To not make a mess?”

“…to not make a mess…”, Mika parrots quietly as she looks around the living room. We just waded through an ocean of blood together, we’re sitting on the floor cause it’s going to take a miracle to get all the blood out of the furniture… and James is worried about crumbs.

Mika can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her. There’s a manic edge to her laughter, it’s a little too loud and a little too long.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Matthew starts laughing with her. Between laughs he manages to wheeze out, “Bro- Bro, that’s psychotic!”

“Don’t be melodramatic!” James snaps, “It’s the best way to keep the toppings from sliding off!”

At this, Erik fights through a smirk, “You’ve managed to take all the pleasure out of eating! I bet you can’t even taste anything other than dry crust!”

“Wha- You to?” James seems almost offended. He looks to Damien who only shakes his head solemnly.

The rest of the room devolves into another round of giggles as James stares at the ceiling, theatrically dejected. He holds his much-maligned pizza high and unfolds it with a flourish. Mika, Erik, and Matthew cheer as though a great victory has been won.

Matthew and Damien make a game out of trying to eat their remining slices in the strangest ways possible. Highlights include folding inside out and rolling the tip of the triangle around the crust.

Erik starts bartering slices of his plain cheese for some of James’ double pepperoni. Only after James absolutely swindles Erik out of 3 slices, does Mika mention “Oh there’s still some more out in the hall—”

“And you let this fiend take advantage of me?!”  Erik puts a hand over his heart in mock indignation.

Mika grins broadly and shrugs in response, “I just wanted to see how badly you’d get conned.”

James and Mika shared a quick laugh at Erik’s expense. Their moment is quickly interrupted by a startlingly loud noise from Damien. All heads whip in his direction as he shakes in the doorway with his hands over his mouth.

“I can explain—" Mika starts, but James, Erik, and Matthew are already up and out the door.

“I know I said we need to eat but…” James trails off as he stares at the ludicrous amount of pizza still in the entryway.

“I may—” another fit of giggles overtake Mika, “I may have let my stomach do the talking!”

Damien lets out another howl of laughter from where he’s leaning bodily on Erik. James and Matthew deliver a large stack of boxes and immediately begin bickering as they search for their favorite combinations of toppings.

“I’m not giving you the supreme, you’re just going to pick all the olives off of it.”

“Yeah, but you always want to add them to whatever you’re eating anyway, so it’s a win-win!”

Mika picks up empty boxes and starts stacking them in the corner.

“Incoming!” Matthew shouts.

She barely manages to dodge the airborne box, laughing as she has to support the tower as it lands haphazardly on top. “What was that?! You almost sent the whole stack down!”

“You need more finesse, Matthew!” Erik teases as he flings his empty box like a frisbee, it lands much more gracefully.

Soon it’s a new competition. The room cheerly wildly whenever a box lands. The boys take turns trying to teach Mika the proper form for box throwing, but she never manages to land hers.

It turns out five magic users, heavily depleted of energy, can eat a lot of pizza. By the time the limits of their stomachs catch up with their energy needs, they’ve made an impressive stack of boxes that’s almost as tall as Mika.

She feels punch-drunk. Everything is hilarious, even the fact that she’s giggling at everything that happens is funny. Mika presses her palms into her ribs in hopes of alleviating the muscle cramps from laughing too hard.

Matthew wipes tears from the corners of his eyes between fits of giggles, “I think—I think we need to go to bed before we explode!”

Another wave of chuckles ripples through the room. Damien gets up and pokes James in the ribs, “Hmm? Oh yes, we should have extras.”

The pair disappear briefly and return with a handful of vials. Erik and Matthew each grab one. Erik raises his hand in a toast, “To living another day!”

The other demons echo his words, and they down the potions in unison. Their appearance seems to ripple and blur, or maybe my eyes are just too tired. Mika rubs her eyes and represses a yawn. When she opens her eyes, the boys look human again.

Mika’s should sag a few inches as she releases tension she didn’t know she was holding. The normalcy of the situation warms her, it could almost be any other night when they all accidentally stay up too late. She turns to look at Sam for the first time in what feels like hours. He’s still in his demon form, unconscious, with pressure bandages tied tight around his middle.

Almost.

[mariamakeslemons]

Spooktober 2023: Day 23 Cannibals

Warning: Reader is gender neutral, cannibalism (as is the prompt), unknowing cannibalism, mention of death and dismemberment, dehumanization

You had been nervous about agreeing to join John for dinner, especially after he witnessed you getting harassed by your ex mere minutes before meeting. But, the man assured you that there was nothing more he would want. Now, here you are, at the doorstep of his house, wearing nice clothes, and hoping that he wouldn’t misinterpret your flowers for feminizing him instead of the confession you don’t think he’d recognize. Shit, you probably shouldn’t have gotten them, but they reminded you of him. Oh God, you’re going to get dumped before you even start dating!

“You’re early,” a voice rumbles, startling you from your panicking. John leans in the doorway, looking stunningly handsome with an amused smile.

“Ah! I, um, wanted to make sure that, uh, I was on time,” you manage to stumble through the explanation, shoving the flowers into his face with a squeaked, “Here you go!” He leans back briefly before chuckling and accepting the flowers.

“Well, thank you,” he says, stepping to the side and motioning for you to enter. You comply sheepishly, taking off your shoes to not ruin his carpet before trailing after him, toward the kitchen and the delicious smell. John admits, “I was worried I might have started dinner too early and you wouldn’t have gotten to enjoy the food when it was warm.”

“Ah, well,” you try, only to trail off with a shrug, averting your gaze nervously.

“Come on in, Flower,” he encourages, startling you into looking at him. John makes a big show of smelling the bouquet you got him, before beaming at you, “I’ll go grab a vase. Mum sent me quite a few for decoration, might as well use one.” You fluster, feeling your face burn as you trail behind him, closing the door behind you as John chuckles. It’s a nice vase he finds, clear cut glass that warps the stems in a very disconcerting way. Like the stem has been cut multiple times, but the flower floats peacefully above the vase.

“Follow me to the dining room,” he encourages, leading you through his house. Passing by a door, you jump at a drawn out noise coming from behind it. John turns and frowns, completely nonplussed.

“Dammit, need t’ check the heater again,” he grumbles, soothing your nerves easily.

“It’s not going to turn off on us, is it?” you ask, hoping you come off as playful teasing. Luckily, it seems he took it as the joke it is as John chuckles and gives you a playful glare.

“Don’t you worry, your pretty little head,” he warns with a wagging finger. You laugh, feeling so warm at the smile he gives you before continuing to follow him to the dining room.

“I feel I should warn you, Flower,” he says while pulling back your seat, “I know how to cook meat, but I’m not great at cooking sides. It’s cooked, but…”

“You don’t feel confident with them?” you offer. John’s smile turns sheepish as he nods. You give him a smile of reassurance.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty good with sides,” you assure him, “I just get impatient with cooking meat.” John blinks before laughing.

“Didn’t expect to meet someone who can cover that weakness,” he chuckles before disappearing into the kitchen briefly. You sit nervously at the table, unsure of just what you signed up for, when he returns with a tray of meat cabobs, a side of brussel sprouts, and sweet potatoes.

“Figured a simple dinner would work for a first date,” he explains, sitting down after pouring you a glass of liquor, “Didn’t want to make something fancy, only for you to tell me you don’t eat certain things.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, completely earnest as you dig in. The meat is perfectly seasoned and moist, which surprises you at how lean the chunks look. You hum in delight, unable to stop yourself from wiggling a little in happiness. Upon realizing what you’ve done, you look up to John, expecting a confused and disgusted look. Instead, his face is soft, watching you with soft eyes and a soft smile.

“Y’ like ‘em?” he asks, low and sensual. Your face heats again, but you nod, smiling as his smile grows. You take a bite of brussel sprouts, only to wince a little. Still bitter and a bit too crunchy, obviously just under cooked. Immediately, John’s face falls.

“It-it’s not bad!” you try to insist after swallowing the bite, “Just a little under cooked! Maybe another three minutes or so, then it would have been good.”

“Still, wanted to make it perfect,” John grumbles, shoving a forkful of his own into his mouth. Humming, you take a bite of sweet potato and light up. Soft, sweet, with a perfect hit of spice from the use of cinnamon and no added marshmallows. You beam at John, who relaxes at your obviously happy reaction.

Dinner continues as you talk. Hobbies, jobs (which John admitted was very secretive, being military and all), friends and family. Any thing you can think about, you end up talking with him about. All too soon, dinner ends and he walks you back to the door.

“I had a lovely night,” you confess, nerves gone from how lovely the date was, “Maybe… We can do this again?”

“Of course,” John agrees, “How about Friday? At seven, if you’re available.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, “But, how about you make the entrée and I’ll bring some sides?” John’s eyes lit up and he smiles at you.

“Perfect,” he agrees, leaning toward you. You eagerly lean back, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips giddily, before pulling away. He declares, “I’ll text you when I decide what to make.”

“Sounds good,” you say, reluctantly turning, “See you then!”

“Of course!” he calls back, closing his door only when you get into your car and get out of his driveway.

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

Price hums the marriage march to himself as he sets everything into the dishwashers, already imagining you in all the finery that comes with the ceremony. Such a lovely Flower he’s got, so thoughtful and sweet. A howl sounds from the door leading to his basement and he clicks his tongue in irritation.

“I swear,” he grumbles, drying off his hands after rinsing off the last bits of food. He storms over to the door and stomps down, snarling at the piece of shit that had been so terribly rude to his Flower when they first met.

“If you want t’ keep your head, I recommend you stop your fucking howling,” Price snaps, watching with some satisfaction as the dumb animal cowers and whimpers. It hadn’t been hard to get them trussed up down here, although it had been a hassle holding them down as Ghost got his first dibs with a whole leg. Pausing, Price contemplates the remaining half leg.

“You know, I bet that thigh would make a damn fine pot roast,” he mumbles to himself. The dumb animal starts panicking, struggling against the chains and bindings that hold them to the wall. Price ignores the animal’s feelings and just grabs at the sanitized bone saw, already calculating how much meat will be needed to prepare a nice pot roast for you.

[petchricor-creates]

Another sneak peak of my fic Pieces of Him, coming soon!

Carolina headed off into the distance, towards the cliffs. There was a nice path there that led to a little cliff that she had enjoyed sitting at to get alone time and make up constellations at night. It got very cold at night though, so she had to be careful how long she spent out there. During the day, though, it was nice and cool.

Carolina paused when she noticed someone sitting there already. She hesitated before pressing on. Who was out here at this time of the morning? Most everyone started on their chores early in the day to get them over and done. So, who was sitting out here?

It was Grif. That made complete sense.

“Hey,” Carolina said as she came up behind him.

Grif jumped and whipped around in surprise. “Jesus! You scared the shit outta me!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Carolina apologized with a light laugh. “I thought you heard me.”

Grif rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I heard the ninja-like bitch sneaking up on me.”

“I didn’t sneak, I just walked?”

“Still a ninja-like bitch,” Grif retorted with a smirk. Carolina rolled her eyes, putting her hands in her pockets and staring off into the distance.

“What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be doing chores?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I just, needed a minute,” Carolina said slowly, hoping Grif wouldn’t pry. “And walking clears my head.”

“Uh-huh,” Grif said, frowning a little. He looked away for a moment, clearly thinking. Carolina let him, turning back to look at the water again. “You wanna have a seat?” She turned back to him, seeing him looking up at her.

“No, no,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “I should get back and start on my chores.”

“Dude, the chores aren’t going anywhere,” Grif said. Carolina furrowed her brow at that. “You can take a break.”

“I don’t need a break,” Carolina said. “I just, need to keep moving.”

“What, like a shark?”

“What?”

“Y’know, like a shark, if they stop moving they die, because that’s how they breathe or, something.”

Carolina looked at Grif like he’d lost his mind. “Again, what?”

Grif waved her off. “Never mind, forget that. Look, you can take a break, it’s okay.”

“But-”

“Shh, shhhh, stop talking, sit down.” Grif patted the ground beside him. Carolina scowled. “The chores aren’t going anywhere, you’re not gonna like, suffer or nothing. Just, sit the fuck down.

Carolina sighed. “Fine, I’ll sit with you for like, two minutes.” Carolina took a seat beside Grif, crossing her legs. This felt, really weird. 

“See, now was that so hard?”

“I will break your nose,” she threatened half heartedly. 

“I’m so scared,” Grif said with a snort.

[spn-etc]

Deal and The Damage Done, Ch. 2

It's been awhile, but I thought of picking this story back up for the fun of it. And, here's hoping we hear about a supernatural story coming to tv. I'm itching to see more of the Winchesters! The above pictures/gifs I use and any other media for my little series are for entertainment purposes of course. I think they add a nice aesthetic, and I'd like to hear what y'all think about the story or any mood boards I post.

Thank you,

The Author of this Fanfic

“Your brother, he got any places he’ll go for days or -?” the brunette asks. 

I’d gotten their names at the diner. They were detectives, Friedkin and Lynch.

“I’ve already called all his old friends. Unless there are people I don’t know about. But, I do know my brother. He’s not one for making friends in this backwater town. Unless some punk rolls into town and Cash is looking for trouble.” 

“So your brother ‘gets into trouble’. What exactly do you mean?”

I’m feeling a little sick and it’s the early morning after Cash first disappeared. I can already tell Mom’s stressed, as she swears to me and herself that Cash is having one of his episodes, and he’ll be back. She’s avoiding any calls and I know Nana will be on the phone any time now, squalling about how she saw this coming.

Cash has this thing, once in a blue moon, where he likes to run off, go on some little adventure. He’ll pick a fight with the wrong guy, or get a hold of some bottle rockets, or a pistol. Whatever it may be, he ends up in a jail cell. Truant from school multiple times, and almost sent to juvie another time, Cash grew up to be a little hellraiser. I shouldn’t be surprised about Cash disappearing, but on the same date as my dad’s own disappearance? It could just be coincidence, but my gut tells me something is off. 

“My brother’s a bit of a troublemaker,” I tell Detective Friedkin. “He’s gotten a little better now that he’s working, but he has these times where he causes problems - usually picking fights with some guy in town or drag racing, and such.” I think, perhaps it’s not much of a stretch that my brother’s just on another misadventure. But, that still only means I’ve got to find him much sooner.

The blonde, Detective Lynch, nods his head, and I see a grim smirk creeping across his face. “Your brother’s in deep shit.” 

“It’s whatever,” I insist, but it’s not. Not really. “He usually turns up somewhere, and I’ll have to bail him out, or my Nana will.” I hesitate. “My brother doesn't handle this time of year well.”

“Can’t be easy,” Lynch says.  “Losing a parent’s tough.” 

“Yeah,” I say. “I just - I feel like I have to pick up the slack, most of the time. I can’t step out of line. My family depends on me. And, I always worry, you know, who’s next?” I haven’t confided this way to a lot of people. It’s funny. I have a hard time with cops, but I let my guard down with these guys. That’s rare.

“Cash, my little brother - do you really think he's in trouble deeper than what I’m thinking?”

The brunette, Friedkin, hesitates, a trace of uncertainty apparent as he looks away to search for the words. “Leah - how much do you know about the supernatural?” 

The what? And it dawns on me. These guys surely can’t be some conspiracist whack jobs, right?

“The supernatural? You don’t mean ghosts, demons, and such. You think that’s what took Cash?” 

“And your father, possibly. Listen, listen. It might sound strange. This wouldn’t be the first time someone didn’t believe us. We know. My brother and I, we’ve been tracking, hunting, things that most people would never notice. Dean and I, we’ve done this for years. What took your father years ago, it could easily hurt your brother. Leah, have you ever seen anything strange before? Anything you couldn’t explain?” 

“Well sure, doesn’t everyone?” I laugh, almost scoff. It’s hilarious; I feel like I’m in one of those cheap B horror movies.   “Since I was a kid,” I continue,  “I’ve seen all kinds of things. Mom always said I’d had an overactive imagination.” 

And I mean it when I say this. Nana Lizzy, Elizabeth Jacobs, may be attuned to all that's supernatural, but my maternal line were all skeptics. I’d be inclined to believe my grandmother more if what I saw didn’t disturb me so much.  

Growing up, I’d fill journals full of drawings of these strange shadowy creatures with crimson red eyes, or eyes like black tar.  They used to talk to me in my dreams, and to this day, I still have dreams where something like a disembodied voice more or less, tells me that it's waiting to get me. It’s always the same dream. It’s in some derelict house at the end of a road I’d wandered on while playing ball. And no matter how much I try to resist, I’m always drawn back inside the house, and I’m always calling out for something. Then, there’s always the same bedroom at the back of the house, down the narrow hallway full of pictures of people I don’t recognize. Old pictures of people out of something like a black and white movie. It’s getting hotter and suffocating almost, but I still take tentative steps to the tattered door. It’s barely on its hinges and it just swings open. it comes out of the shadows of the closet, or claws its way from beneath the bed. Its body is something I recognize as barely human, if it ever was one. On the times I glimpsed it in my dreams, the creature’s body bears the kind of burns that expose raw flesh, even exposing the bone on parts of its body. What is left of its skin hangs rotting from its body. And, that’s what I can even see, but I always, always, wake up in a sweat. And I can smell the disgusting mixture of mold and sulfur. It’s the only dream that I can recall being so real; everything pales in comparison. I can’t comprehend the term ‘sweet dreams’. 

No one except Nana Lizzie had ever taken the dreams seriously. After all, Cash also had his own share of fear in the dark, what’s out there. It has been there for Cash and I from the beginning, and one of the few things we can connect on. And it’s just another reason we can’t get on in Proctor Hollow, West Virginia. When the only person who sympathizes is your eccentric old grandma, it gets pretty lonely. It’s just easier to accept that Cash and I were grieving to some extent, though the dreams had started long before Dad ever disappeared. And I could just joke like my father used to when the boogeyman came to the foot of my bed. 

I remember it with my brother in tow, and sitting me on his lap, Dad would laugh the demons away. “Little Leah? You’re not little, Leah. You’re my warrior, aren’t you? You can tell that ugly thing to go kick rocks. Ain’t no boogeyman gonna keep my Leah down. Or Cash,” my father would add. And Dad would grab us in a bear hug and tell us how much he loved us, before turning out the light at night. I’ll admit, the dreams were worse for Cash and I once Dad was gone. That's  when my grandmother stepped in. 

Nana’s foresight is uncanny, to the point she was on the phone minutes before Miss Ella’s husband had been declared dead, or when someone a holler over was about to go into labor. How she couldn’t locate Cash was beyond me. When I had contacted her last night, she was oddly resigned, and quiet.

 My grandmother can talk a mile a minute sometimes. Especially if something really gets her mad. Cash was often the source of some of her biggest ravings, or my lack of interest in what she had to say to me. Most of the time, though, she liked to complain about how ignorant everyone was, how unaware people were of what was around. “Even more now,” she griped. “They’re all sucked into their cellphones.” I love my Nana, Lizzy, as everyone in Proctor Hollow knows her. She took care of me and Cash, when Mom was at work, or stewing in her memories. Nana’s more often than not telling me what I ought to do about Cash. Always wondering why I don’t watch the boy much closer,  why I don’t look after his health or make sure he’s eating. She won’t talk to my mom half the time, because they can’t get five minutes into a conversation before they start arguing with each other. 

Mom won’t hardly talk to her at all, now. On more than one occasion, I’m reminded that Nana didn’t like my dad marrying my mother. Mom liked to mention it, alone with her bottle or if Charlie came by, reminiscing about Dad and the life they had before he disappeared that Saturday night. Nana complained about Mom's lack of motivation; she had no get-up-and-go attitude about her. Nana never had the luxury of someone else caring for her. She had to provide for her family when Grandpa died in a coal mine accident. She said that Mom was a spoiled beauty queen transplant from Charleston. She lacked for nothing because her dad could buy her whatever she wished for. Mom didn't have to do the same kind of work Grandma did.   So, anything important that needed to be said was through me.  

 “You telling me that you don’t think your brother’s involved in things that are outside the ordinary? It’s all real, and you know this. Now, when you saw Cash last, what was he doing? Who was around? You said at the diner that Cash had been with a group of buddies, someone in there that was the new chick? You hadn’t seen her around? Not a friend from another town or school?” 

I racked my brains trying to remember the details of the last time Cash was out. It was the usual lineup of friends from high school - Chris, JT, Andy, and a couple of girls they had with them. But, one of the girls stood out. She was all over Cash, hanging on to him like a bee to a flower. A brunette woman with a willowy figure underneath her skin tight t-shirt and jeans. Pretty brown eyes, and a bright grin. I could have mistaken her for a ditz, the way she acted. And, she clearly wanted him all to herself, which Cash loved as he was pawing at her all that evening before they went out. He hadn’t shut up about her for the next few days. I thought, well of course. She was one of the few girls in town to give him any attention. Cash always struggled pulling girls, according to his friends, so I guess this must have gone to his head enough for him to run away.

“This girl was all over my brother. She was the new girl, she must have been. I’d never seen her before. She said her name was Gwen. Never heard of her before that night. But, people come in from out of town all the time, usually college kids looking for a little fun. I never took her for someone who was up to something. She seemed like your typical bimbo.” 

“Well, she didn’t mention anything about going anywhere with him?” Sam said. 

“Didn’t hear anything outside the usual ‘she’s so amazing’ bit.” 

“He’s a lovesick idiot,” Dean says. “Do anything she says. Look, you just keep an eye out, okay? But, we’re not through here. And you keep that amulet on you, you hear? And -” reaching behind him to get something out of the car - “take this,” and Dean tosses me a bag of something a little heavy. Inside is an iron crucifix and a silver vial. 

“It’ll buy you some time if we’re not there,” Dean says. 

“Where are you going?” I say to the guys, as they take to their car.

“We can’t follow you around the whole time,” We’ve got  a case to investigate.” 

“So, I’m on my own with my brother?”

“Unless we get any leads now, it’s not getting us anywhere.” 

I can’t say anything, but I know in the pit of my stomach, it must be that the girl’s with Cash, and I’m behind the wheel.  Damn it, if Cash looked before he leaped, this wouldn’t have happened. I’m now going to have to grit my teeth, and snoop around for my brother. I watch the Chevy Impala disappear around the corner, and I’m off to JT’s once more with an ax to grind. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Son of a bitch. They’ve already gotten three, Sam. She has has no clue how bad this is.” 

“They claim enough souls, they could do worse.” 

“We’ve already got that point. What else?”

“Elizabeth gave me the files she had collected from the past few disappearances. Adam Goddard. Thirty. Last seen at Chance’s bar off of Main Street and County 109. Seen leaving with a dark haired woman. No mention of who she was. It was a bystander’s report. But, there are all mentions of the same type of woman. So, this could be our person.”

“Little girly’s ticking ‘em off one by one. The only people with any real knowledge are going to be the other buddies that night and the other woman, the old witch.” 

“Whatever it is,” Sam says, his voice on edge now, “Dean, I’ve got more than a feeling the gates of Hell will open again, and there may be more to worry about this time. Why else drag souls to Hell? The crossroad deals - they’re over.” 

Dean stared into the knotting trees on the West Virginia horizon. A loud gunshot sent blackbirds flying from the woods in a big, black shower. Having aged from the defiant young man into a sharp veteran, he bore a tired look. Both men had the rewards of a hard living life. 

“The more we keep going, the more I wonder about the good on Earth. Cas, I know you hear us! Where the hell'd you go?” Dean says. 

“Cas or no Cas, angels or demons be damned., We’ll do what we’ve always done, Dean. Hunting things, saving people. The family business.”

[rosenongrata]

solitary solidarity – iv

Summary: A selection of writings that explore the early days of the odd relationship between Doctor Veritas Ratio and Missus Kagome Ikeda.

A/N: so i actually finished this last night, but just posting it now cuz i may have promptly fallen asleep once i was done lol

c.w/s: varies on what part, but i'll make sure to mark each addition with the proper tags in the a/n. OC-insert. c.ws for chapter: im actually not sure how to put this, but implications to abuse ig?? nothing is explicitly mentioned but it's possible to tell shits wrong between Kagome and her husband (also he calls her a whore once). soft Ratio hours (again). Kagome dissociates pretty hard for half of the chapter

w.c: ~1.4k

The two esteemed scholars had been chatting during lunch today – while Dr. Ratio prefers eating by himself in the sweet, sweet privacy of his office; he chose to accommodate Kagome’s wishes to be in the cafeteria instead for today. He knows well that she’s not the most sociable, so her eagerness to be in the populated cafeteria instead of her office strikes him as odd.

At least, that’s what he was thinking prior to a man with a head of black hair and a pair of tired brown eyes showing up – he even has a disgustingly sweet smile plastered on his face while he stands behind her. When the man brushes his fingers along Kagome’s shoulder, she nearly snaps her lacquered wood chopsticks in half.

“Hey, dear,” He says lightly, “I decided to visit you at your office today! It sure is nice here.” He grasps her shoulder tenderly, but that’s what makes Kagome’s skin crawl.

“Good afternoon, Shoto,” Kagome quickly composes herself, the life and color draining from her expression and eyes – Dr. Ratio didn’t expect to see her eyes to somehow grow even more lifeless.

“Ah, so this is…” The doctor’s eyes flick up and down Shoto’s figure, “…your husband.” Dr. Ratio says, his arms firmly crossed – looking unamused as he always does.

Shoto’s smile cracks a little from irritation, but is swiftly repaired within moments.

“This must be your…friend, right?” Shoto asks his lovely wife.

“…Yes, I’m her friend.” Dr. Ratio answers for her – he can see her inattention to her surroundings written all over her features. It’s a half-lie, but he deems it necessary for his plan to get her husband out of here – away from her. The other day with her – when she had punched him in the face – was all he needed to know about this man.

“Anyway,” Shoto turns his attention back onto Kagome, and the doctor swears he can see her curl a little bit away from her husband, “I got you a gift, dear! I’m sure you’ll love it. Here,” He pulls out a thin rectangular black box before opening it, revealing a pair of black gloves, “New gloves!”

“Oh, uhm… Th-thank you, Shoto…” She shakily sets her chopsticks down, staring down at the brand-new gloves before her.

(…He’s love-bombing her. Why am I not surprised…) Dr. Ratio ponders, eyes narrowing at the shorter man.

“C’mon, put them on. They’re very soft!” Shoto pressures.

“But… Shoto, you know that—” Kagome grimaces slightly, refusing to meet her partner’s eyes that grow with impatient anger.

People in the cafeteria begin watching more intently – gossiping amongst themselves. Not even so-called geniuses are immune to the flavorful taste of brewing drama. And then Shoto grabs her wrist, ready to pluck off her old gloves – the ones that have been patched over and over again, sewn back together numerous times over the years.

“Here, I’ll help you!” He chirps, his voice so fake it’s painful – to the doctor, at least.

Dr. Ratio rolls his dichromatic eyes before standing up abruptly – Kagome fully expects him to leave, she wouldn’t blame him for it, either. But, instead, the scholar grabs the other man’s wrist with a near death grip – leaving a burn ache in Shoto.

“You need to leave.” He mutters to the smaller man, glaring down at him, “You’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time.” If there’s one thing Dr. Ratio is – without a doubt – it’s fearless. “Especially Kagome’s.” He grumbles.

“What’s it to you?” Shoto bites back with a nasty grin, but the stronger man can feel him tremble with fear in his grasp.

“To be frank, it’s none of your business – nor is it any of your business to be pestering Kagome, me, and the rest of the Guild.”

“Very funny. Anyway,” Shoto pushes the doctor off with some ease, but only because Dr. Ratio allowed him to – he’s waiting for the husband to make another mistake, “We’re going, Kagome. We have business to attend to…away from these lovely people.” He throws a glaring glance at the opposing man before grabbing Kagome’s arm and roughly tugging her up to her feet.

“…That’s your last mistake, Shoto.” Dr. Ratio huffs, “I can either call security or…you can leave Kagome behind – here in the Guild.”

Weighing his options, Shoto scoffs at him and releases his wife’s now tender arm, “Fine, then. I’ll leave…” His voice lowers to a dark whisper, “She’s a good for nothing whore, anyway.” He glares into her unfocused eyes, “Look at her… She can’t even make a peep – tsk.” He rolls his eyes before departing.

Dr. Ratio says nothing to him, instead wrapping one arm around Kagome’s drooping shoulders as a way of keeping her upright. When he glances at the remaining people in the cafeteria, he notices they’re still talking with each other about Aeons knows what – most likely that little scene, he wagers.

“…Can you hear me, Kagome?” He whispers to her, and she fails to respond – her expression completely despondent and her eyes absent of awareness. “I will take that as a no.” He sighs.

He quickly cleans up her lunch materials, putting her bento box back together before leading her out of the cafeteria – anywhere that’s quiet and isolated will have to do. And he knows the perfect place – his office in the medical quarters.

They walk there, and each time she stumbles on her weakened legs, he catches her without too much thought about it. He assists her the whole way there – regardless of how slow she walks and no matter how many times she stumbles. And if he ends up having to carry her, he’ll do that, too.

Arriving in his office, Dr. Ratio helps Kagome settle down on the sofa in the quaint room before taking a seat at his desk. He swivels his chair in her direction – folding one leg over the other and resting his hands on his raised knee, they intertwine to form an overall scrutinizing posture.

Her eyes flutter shut, covering her lifeless stare that had been glued to the wall moments ago. It takes many minutes of pure silence – including the doctor removing his gaze from her, instead staring at the floor – before she can form words, let alone a single sound.

“Mmh…” She groans, pressing two fingers to her now-aching forehead – he can immediately tell it’s a tension headache that shoots through her skull.

Yet his offer for medication goes unheard for several moments as she rubs her head. When her mind finally processes that someone was speaking to her moments ago, her eyes shoot open and she finally spots him on the other side of the room.

“Did…did you say something?” She inquires; voice broken and weak.

His gaze is firmly on her figure, but not as firm as it often is – it’s softened, keeping his grumpiness low to avoid scaring her and worsening her condition.

“I asked if you would like some medication – for your tension headache, to be precise.” He replies.

“Uhm…” She sways a little in her seat, eyes losing focus again while her hand falls to her lap.

He sighs softly, turning away in his chair and grabbing a small bottle of headache relief medication from a drawer in his desk. He twists open the cap, taking a single pill out, and striding over to her after grabbing a cup of cool water from the water dispenser.

“You should take it,” He hands her the pill by taking her hand and placing it on her open palm, “At the very least, it will ease the inflammation.”

She gives him a small nod before taking the pill with water as instructed. He then rests the little white cup on the coffee table nearby. When he turns to return to his desk, he feels a weak tug at the tail of his clothes.

“Do you need something else?” He inquires as softly as he can as he turns back toward her – he’s well-aware that he sounds far too strict for his own good right now.

“Stay…” She breathes, the words coming from her held together by a thinning thread.

“I was not going to leave you alone. You are in no shape for isolation.” He reassures and takes a seat next to her once she releases his clothes.

“Thank you…” She whispers, her eyes falling shut again.

And without warning, she falls against his broad shoulder – her head resting there limply. He visibly stiffens – back straightening like a board and arms flexing into knots. When he hears sudden soft snores coming from her, he sighs in relief – his body deflating. He stays still for now, eyes scanning her peaceful features before glancing to the floor.

(…That’s that for now, then.) He sighs mentally, (But I know that this is only one facet of her – too much deeply troubles her. She’s not bored and emotionless by nature – no one is.)