#she begs me to stand for jesus 'as the world gets more confused by the devil' when shes the one confused

[millesbianforce]

I fucking hate people with supportive parents I fucking hate you

[gruesomejack]

The shove brought a laugh from him, and he quickly leaned over to bump their shoulders together. The affection, however brief, left him warm and bittersweet-- And with the hope that maybe things could settle into a new normal between them. Charlie was his friend regardless of any other feelings he might hold for him, and he wanted nothing more than the opportunity to be that rock for him again. "I missed you too." He said softly and kept leaning against him, "I fought with my parents the whole time, trying my hardest to get them to let me come back for a summer or even just winter vacation. It wasn't my mom-- She helped me beg." Vi smiled and rubbed the side of his neck, "I never stopped wondering how you were doing."

Humming, he stared at his hands and picked a little at the tape around his thumb. There hadn't been a day that went by where Charlie wasn't on his mind. He'd always imagined them getting to grow up and graduate together. Doing all the things they were supposed to do together by himself left a deep ache in his chest and a sour taste in his mouth. It was why he started the book. If they couldn't do it side by side, he'd at least share it with him secondhand. Vi glanced at Charlie when he spoke, his own eyes going from wistful to confused. That wasn't what he wanted to hear-- Not even a little. His heart grew heavy, and he very quickly sat himself up and off Charlie, cheek turning. He could feel his skin grow hot, and there wasn't even a sliver of a chance to calm himself before the tears were welling up in his eyes.

"...You didn't mean to?" Victory forced out a wet laugh and collapsed back against the couch. "Oh, fuck you, Charlie." The words were between them before he could think about it. Frowning, he slid away from him to the other side of the couch and snatched one of the throw pillows to hold against his chest. "...I don't want you to be sorry." He said without looking at him, eyes focused on the floor as they spilled over. "I was never mad at you for that! Not even for a second--" Voice cracking, he cursed and buried his face in the cushion. "You're such a stupid bastard!"

Throwing the pillow at him, he huffed and stared at him with wet eyes and a pout. "That meant everything to me, and you're taking it back?!" He barked, "Ugh! If you would've kept your damn mouth shut, I could've at least still pretended it mattered!" Vi's breath hitched, and he swallowed down a broken noise before scrubbing his hands over his face. "And don't get me started on you thinking I was dating Sam-- Jesus Christ, Charlie! You've known me since I was six! Have I ever expressed any romantic interest in any girls in all the years we've been attached at the hip? Huh?!" He hadn't meant to yell at him, but he was tired and hurt. Stomping his foot on the floor, he let out another string of curses and picked up another pillow to whip at him. "You know Drew called me? He knew! I didn't say anything to him, and he knew! I can't expect you to read minds, and I know that, but God, you'd think you might have a peek into mine."

Standing up, he put his hands on his hips and frowned, his brows knitted in his heartbroken fury. "I'm gay! And I guess everyone in the world can clock it except for maybe you and my dad!" He said, his eyes starting to water again. "A-And I've spent four years thinking about that kiss every single day and how I couldn't wait to finally give it back to you!" Vico's chin trembled, and his hands squeezed at his side. "After you told me about Beth, I-... W-When you invited me over today, I was going to tell you I was okay if you didn't want it. I-I-... I can accept that because you're my friend above everything else." He said, "But to take it away from me? To say it didn't mean anything? That's... beyond cruel."

Folding his arms over his chest, he held himself and glanced towards the door, debating on just leaving. "...I really can't stand you right now." He said softly, "And the worst part is, even now, I still love you too much to let you wallow alone."

There was a notebook on his nightstand that didn't belong to him. It was compact, the cover a pretty shade of blue that was almost completely hidden by a collection of stickers, most of which were video game references or art of favorite characters. Beth carried it with her everywhere; it was an agenda, of sorts, the best way she'd ever found to keep her busy life on track. The bookmark that she used to keep her place was something Charlie had slipped into the birthday gift he'd given her some weeks ago as something a little sxtra. It had artwork of a cat that looked like hers, and he'd been so pleased when he'd seen it in use.

She probably didn't realize yet that she'd left it here. He'd have to text her, or maybe drop it by her mother's the next time he left the house. He just didn't know when that would be.

Sniffling, Charlie reached up to scrub at his face. He felt like he didn't know anything at all. He'd been replaying that conversation over and over again since she'd left yesterday. His slow wasn't really slow- he didn't know what that meant! He could understand well enough that maybe she just didn't want a relationship at all, but he didn't know where he'd gotten things wrong. Was he not supposed to want to be with her? Should he just not have bothered in the first place? It wasn't like he'd gone and planned out their futures or anything- he'd only really thought through college, how they'd manage the distance and if he should try to go somewhere closer to her. Had that been too much?

Worst of all, he missed her. He felt like shit and he worried about her, too, but it wasn't as if he could call her about it. He couldn't check on her. It'd just make things worse. All he could do was text her about a notebook.

Seeking out his phone, he pulled up his texts, then paused. The last text they'd sent one another has been something sweet and simple and he didn't really want to read it again. Underneath that, though, was the draft of where he'd nearly texted Vi.

Charlie bit down on his lip as he started at it. His eyes burned, his throat was dry from crying, his face felt sticky. It wasn't a good time for Vi to see him. He ended up texting him anyway.

[To: Victory]: hey

[To: Victory]: are you busy?

@unwillingprince

[sublieu]

IF YOU CAN STILL REMEMBER THE MK X LISTENER PLOT, UH- CAN YOU MAKE IT? You can have your own version of it!

╰┈➤❝ [⋆· *Demi Demon Ruts༉‧₊˚.] ¡! ❞

Warnings: cumflation, cunnilingus, [semi] finger fucking, flirty/perverted Mk, ruts, marking

A.n: I'm still gonna do a fic on him. Don't think I'm not gonna.

Mentions: @mortal-mayhem @zmzsnakes @yellowaxol @fallenplantation

Ah yes, the time of mating season, where demons, animals, gods and goddesses come together to be rid of their awful punishment their body decides to lay upon them.

But for Mk, this affected him worse.

He could barely concentrate on working, helping and partying. It was as if the whole world was colliding in on him, and now he's stuck in his room hiding away and trying to bear through the suffering.

Mk was confused, everything felt fuzzy and dizzy. The room had an unbearably thick smell, as if you were there attempting to comfort him as he wore your favorite oversized shirt that you 'borrowed' from him. Until Wukong showed up.

"Kid, you've been missing trainin- jesus christ did you spray the place or something?!"

Wukong yells as he coughs and wheezes, Mk just hid deeper inside him fluffy blanket, he felt as if he was gonna die from embarrassment when everything suddenly clicked for the golden brown monkey.

"Mk, are you going through a *pfft* rut?"

He stutters as he fails to hide his laughter, plopping down on his bed whilst continuing to laugh at the brunette's misery. Patting down his back and hearing him purr shortly after.

"How is this even possible?! I'm not even a demon much less a demigod!" "Well, technically.. you are a demigod, but that still means you're gonna suffer ruts like every other demon does."

Wukong sighs and pulls the blanket away, his heart breaking when he sees how much poor Mk was suffering as tears ran down his eyes. Silently sobbing as he held his knees together to ease the pain for him in a way.

"Kid, I can find a way to help you deal with your situation buuutttt it's gonna cost you" "Anything Wukong please!"

Mk sobs and begs, the demon groans as he scratches his head, looking for bugs as gets up and summons his Nimbus to collect some ingredients.

"You're gonna need to isolate yourself for atleast 2 weeks, not only that, you have to keep physical touch to an absolute low. Which means your little girlfriend and your friends are gonna have to keep a far distance from you for the time being" Wukong starts as he picks up and empty bottle he could find around Mk's room that he wasn't using at the moment.

Mk laid there as he tried to rest, his eyes slowly starting to drift as Wukong's last sentence was a blur.

"Oh and do not touch yourself, no jerking off nothing. Understand? I'll tell Pigsy and your friends to let you rest for the next 2 weeks" the demon continues and stands on his Nimbus before flying off to let his apprentice rest.

Diary entry #1

So I just cleaned up my room (finally) and is currently eating noodles Pigsy made for me. Honestly if it wasn't for him Mei would have to cook and I'm scared of her cooking cus the last time the fish stew she made for me actually bit on my fork. IT BIT MY FORK. Signing off, finna watch tawog and get some more rest -Mk.

Diary entry #2

Y/n just came by my house to drop off groceries today, honestly I love her so so much, she even got me my favorite chocolate too! I'm gonna repay her one day, I'm saving up to buy her V.I.P tickets to that new movie [movie name] that she's been talking about. Lets hope I can save enough to buy her something after. Signing off today again to rest -Mk

Diary entry #3

Just came out of the shower, honestly the cold feels nice for once. I couldn't help but think about y/n today again! I wonder what she's doing? probably playing games or reading something, I just love how cute she looks whenever she's doing something. I could listen to her talk all day and still say nothing cus she's so cute! Signing off today, gonna make some food and go sleep -Mk.

Diary entry #4

I woke up to my 'friend' today, obviously I didn't want y/n or anyone else to come and see me like this. Who knows what they could think! so I touched myself for the first in weeks, I might buy y/n those cute paw stockings she loves so much -Mk.

Diary entry #5

It happened again when I was showering, first I'm thinking about making breakfast and now I'm thinking about y/n bending over just to reach the sugar container. God the way she looks in that cute miniskirt she always wear around the house just makes me feel... fuzzy... -Mk

Diary entry #6

... Nothing new today, same old thing. Read, eat, watch a movie and text y/n.

Diary entry #7

I'm calling her... I can't stand staying in this fucking house alone

Mk writes and proceeds to reach for his phone when out of the blue, Wukong contacts him to check in on how he's doing; Stirring what seems to be a pot in the background as Mk continues looking on his phone.

"Hey Mk!! How ya holding up?"

Wukong starts and wipes a sheen of sweat from his face. Mk responds with an I'm good as he calls y/n, as if completely ignoring his question and paying attention to you.

"M'doin great, You wouldn't mind coming over for some video games or something? - No no it's just the two of us! Promise! - You will? Aww thanks, I'll unlock the door k?"

Mk smiles and hangs up his phone, leaving Wukong confused and slightly worried.

"Mk. who exactly are you calling over?"

He asks and stops stirring as he looks around the boy's room then back to him when he notices how fidgety his fingers were before putting two and two together.

"Mk. No-" "Oh cmon Wukong! I won't bite, too hard atleast" "Mk I'm serious- DON'T YOU DARE HANG UP ON M-"

Wukong threatens before being hung up by Mk, stirring even faster in an attempt to hurry and bring back the medicine when Xi stopped him and told him to stir as gently as possible.

Whilst you stood at Mk's doorway, fixing yourself one last time before hearing his door click and open to see him heaving and wheezing as if he just ran down the steps. You giggled and gave him a kiss on the cheek and entered the well lit house, completely ignorant to the sound of his door clicking and locking.

"So what're you planning to play first? Dance dance revo 3 or Wukong mashup?"

You'd start up a conversation as you were ready to setup his gaming station, placing the games on his carpet when he kneels down beside you to pick. Ultimately choosing dance dance revo.

After hours and hours of just you two giggling and having fun, Wukong texts Mk stating he's almost done making the remedy. Ignoring the message and paying attention to you as you continued dancing.

The way how you were just so steady to the beat, your boobs would jiggle to the slightest movement of your body alongside the sheer amount of sweat you were producing. He was in awestruck as you sat down on the carpet for a breather.

(ง•ᴥ•)ง♪ (◕3◕)╯♫ (¬ᴥ¬)◠◡ ♬ (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)╯♩ 「ᵔᴥᵔ」♫ (¬ᴥ¬) ♬ (ツ)♭

Your bra would reveal itself to the white shirt you were wearing, making you all the more delectable for him. Mk was already struggling just seeing you move and now this? it was almost as if you were subtly punishing him. Whilst distracted, you crawled in between his legs to hug his waist and giggled after he looked down at you, god you were just so cute, how could anyone resist you?

He gave you a quick forehead kiss before slowly trailing down to your lips, things already getting heated between you both as you were quick to take off the other's clothes, leaving you both naked and flustered.

His hands would grab hold of your butt and pulled you closer to him, sloppy, wet kisses would trail from your lips all the way to your chest as he puts his hand down your panty. His cock throbbing and leaking pre the more he played with your body.

Heavy, ragged breaths escaped your lips as you attempt to close your legs. Only for him to pry them open and go down to your dripping pussy, kissing your tummy and licking your clit, sucking on the bud as he pushed two fingers inside. Chuckling at your whimpers and pleas.

You looked so pretty from this view, little tears running down your eyes as you bit your finger hard enough to leave it slightly bleeding. But you couldn't care at the moment as his tongue was already past your slit and inside your velvety walls, until he stopped, popping his tongue and licking his lips as he pulled you closer; His cock pressing at your little bundle of sensitive nerves.

Mk would push the tip inside before snapping his hips upwards inside, making you jump whilst Mk pushed you back down on the carpet. He snickered and kissed your forehead as he held your hand and cooed praises at you, your pleas for him to fuck you comforting him as he gave you a soft thrust up inside you.

You were always wondering why he wore his hair upwards if he looked so cool, and now you finally got the reason why; His sharp teeth alongside the subtle glow of his eyes left you in fear and pleasure.

As your legs wrapped around his waist, it seemed as if he picked up in speed. His thrusts getting faster and rougher as you played with his hair, your moans of his name slip off your tongue like butter as you'd clench your toes from the thrilling pleasure. Your eyes flashing to white when you came for the first time, clawing at your neck and grabbing onto his hair to limit his movements. That ultimately not working as he kept pounding your pussy like it was a toy.

He kept muttering your name as if you were about to disappear if he didn't hold onto you long enough, moaning about how snug and inviting your body was, as if you like molding jelly. Soft to the touch and comfortable to hold, almost like a pillow.

You gave him a soft kiss which he immediately returns, his hands securely colliding your hips to his, you were gonna have marks later for sure you thought.

"Keep going~" "You're doing so so good Mk~"

You whisper to his ear, cooing and coddling him even though he's fucking to cloud-9. Your hands reaching to hold his as your climax was coming closer and closer, almost feeling him kissing your womb as you told him to go faster. Throwing your head back and looking into his eyes a second time, seeing that the glow changed to pink and his growling was being ever so evident. Was he staring at you or was he so distracted by your body he couldn't even look at you. But he was actually close to cumming soon too, getting ready to flood your ovaries with his sticky, warm cum.

Your eyes were flashing to white again, your manicured nails digging into his flesh and leaving cuts all over his arms as he fucked every bit of his cum inside. Your belly bloating as he rested on your chest after pulling out, most of his cum seeping out of you and onto the carpet you shared as you both started laughing and share a kiss.

"Didn't your mentor say that we shouldn't be around each other for two weeks?" "Honestly fuck him" "Wooooow real fucking nice Mk"

Wukong sarcasticly speaks up and caused you two to jump up and scramble to cover up. He sighs and throws the bag of pills and liquid for Mk to hold as he made orange juice.

"You guys even fucked on the carpet, seriously? the carpet? Couldn't you have atleast done it on the couch? And you call me and macaque fucking animals".

©𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐮 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐; 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

[julesclues]

hi boooo! You’re legit my favorite author on here! I love your writing so much 💕 was wondering if you could do one: outer banks JJ getting so drunk at a party and throwing up at the party and getting sick all over JB car going back to the chateau with all the pogues. And like reader (not Girlfriend yet) taking care of him please 🥺 thank you so much!!!! 😍😍😍 I know you’re busy so like take you’re time and if you don’t want to it’s fine too 💕💕

Drunken Confessions

Warnings: excessive and underage drinking, cursing

Pairing: jj maybank x reader

Word count: 2.48k

Summary: JJ drinks a littleee too much at a party, which makes the reader worried about him. So being the great person she is, she decides to take care of him.

a/n: thank you for the kind words in your request! It really means a lot! <3

3 things JJ Maybank loves most in this world: sex, surfing, and booze. Emphasis on the booze because once he started, it was almost impossible to stop him which, was currently the situation at the party you were all at.

It was a normal party, one mixed with tourons and pouges. But a normal party for JJ obviously meant drinking. You always worried about him when he would over do it like he is now. Though you were all used to the underage drinking, it was kind of hard to remember that it still is, technically, illegal.

The music was almost too loud. You could barely hear your friends as they each took turns telling stories about their most embarrassing moment. “Mine’s gotta be in 3rd grade when I was in the talent show for dancing and wound up twirling off stage,” Kie exclaimed, making all of you laugh. Pope went next and then John B and as you went around the circle, you realized JJ was no where to be found. You stood up in worry and searched the party for his unique clothing style and beautiful set of hair. “Where is he?” You ask, making John B tilt his head. “Who?” You roll your eyes and look at him. “Your best friend?” You ask with a laugh. Before John B could answer though, you all heard some yelling in the distance. Turning your head to the sound, your question was answered.

There was JJ. Standing on top of a table. Chugging beer after beer, almost as if he was putting on a show for the cheering audience under him. They were all applauding him as he downed the substance, some of it pouring down his chest, turning his dark blue tee into black. You groaned in annoyance as you and the other pouges ran up to him. You pushed through the crowd and made your way to the front, giving you the perfect view of JJ’s drunken state. You sigh and stick your hand out to him. “JJ!” You yell, but he still continued to pour the drinks down his throat. “Maybank! Hey! Let’s go!” You attempt again, but it’s no use. So, you climb up on the table with him, earning even more cheers from the people below. Maybe they thought you were going to join him.

He finally turns to you and his eyes light up. “Y/n!” He exclaims happily. As much as you loved JJ, in this moment, you were pretty upset. All you wanted was for him to just take care of himself so he wouldn’t do stupid shit like this. “Let’s go J,” you whisper only loud enough for him to hear. You reach out to him but he dodges your touch. “No!” He yells, scanning the people below. “Please J. Come on. Please let’s go home,” you plead, making JJ turn toward you. This time, his eyes were soft and warm, almost as if he had turned sober for a quick moment. “Ugh, fine,” he groans, but secretly doesn’t mind the feeling of your finger tips guiding him off the table and back to the pouges. You ignored the boo’s you heard from the others, but they soon forgot about it. To you, they weren’t worth JJ’s time.

“He’s shit faced,” you state to the other pouges, as JJ leans further into your side. Without you, he might have fallen over. “What’s new?” Pope laughs, making you roll your eyes. You knew that this was normal for JJ and that the pouges took it as a joke, but that doesn’t mean it should’ve been normalized. You always worried about JJ and the fact that the other pouges didn’t, made you upset.

You sigh as you sway awkwardly with JJ, thinking about what to do. “Can we just take him back to John B’s? He can’t be drinking anymore guys,” you plead, as John B nods and grabs his keys to the van. “Let’s go then.” You all start walking to the van, you and JJ a little bit behind due to his wonky walking. “You’re cute,” he laughs in his drunken state, making you smile a bit. JJ flirting with you both sober and drunk wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it never failed to make you blush like a middle schooler. “You too J,” you admit, and he chuckles without saying another word.

You make it to the van where Kie holds the door open for you two to hop into the back. You shove JJ in first, having him sit near the window while you sit in the middle and Kie sits next to you guys. John B starts the van and starts driving, which makes JJ hold his stomach. You’re the only one who notices it. “You okay JJ?” You ask him, but all he does it roll down the window. “I’m gonna throw up,” he mumbles, making your eyes go wide. “Oh no JJ, not in the van please,” John B begs. JJ doesn’t say anything as he sticks his head out the window and starts violently throwing up. All of you groan and laugh, as you rub JJ’s back to soothe him. You repeat the phrases “it’s okay” and “you’re okay” like a mantra.

You felt something on your thigh and looked down to see JJ’s hand. After pulling his head back out the window, he plops down on the soft seat under him and looks at you with a sloppy smile while squeezing your thigh in reassurance. “I’m good,” he laughs, looking around the van. “Good cause if you ever throw up in my van, I’ll kill you,” John B chuckles, making everyone else laugh along.

Finally making it back to John B’s, with JJ getting sick almost every 5 minutes, you limp with him by your side as the pouges rush to get the door open for you two. “Come on,” you grunt, finding it a bit difficult to hold JJ up by yourself. He keeps giggling and laughing while slurring his words. “Get him cleaned up in the bathroom y/n,” Pope says, and you nod. “We’ll get him water and some tylenol but until then, just make sure he doesn’t throw up all over my house,” John B exclaims, making you chuckle and adjust yourself against JJ. “Sure thing John.”

You walk into the bathroom with JJ and plop him down on the toilet seat. He sways back and forth, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Jesus J, your clothes are so dirty,” you whisper with a sigh. “Would you like me to strip then, princess?” You roll your eyes but can’t help but grin at his flirty words. “Shut it Maybank. Let’s just get you cleaned u-“

Your words were interrupted by JJ rushing to get off the toilet seat so he could open it. He instantly started throwing up, gripping the sides of the toilet until his knuckles turned white. You instantly got on your knees and sat behind him, rubbing his back to try and soothe him. “Shit JJ..” you say sympathetically. “I fucking hate when you do this shit.” After a minute or so of throwing up, he sits down on the floor and wipes him mouth. “Come here,” you mumble, coming closer to him with a napkin, but he swats your hand away. “JJ..” you warn. “Y/n just get out of here, okay? I don’t need you taking care of me.” You blink in surprise of his words and how quickly he can switch up. “Instead of being petty JJ, how about you be grateful that someone cares about you!” He scoffs and looks away. “Whatever,” he hiccups. “Why do you even care? It’s not like you’re my girlfriend.” 

You freeze for a minute, trying to pretend like his words didn’t hurt you as much as they did. “You’re an asshole sometimes JJ. Girlfriend or not, I care about you. So stop denying my help and just shut up! God, I don’t even know why I’m fighting with you. You’re obviously so drunk right now. You don’t mean anything you’re saying.” You get up and stick your hand out for him. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” He looks at your hand and then up at you. You shoot him a smile and he could swear, drunk or not, that smile would be the death of him one day. 

He hesitantly takes your hand, and you pull him up, having him stumble a bit before regaining his balance. You lead him to his bedroom and plop him down on his bed. You kneel down to take off his shoes for him, but he stops you. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, looking down to the ground. “For what?” You ask him, sitting down next to him. He feels the bed dip down a bit, which makes him sway a little. “For what I said in the bathroom,” he mumbles. You shake your head and chuckle. “JJ, you’re just drunk. I know you don’t mean any of it.” You were always so patient and understanding when it came to JJ. It was one of the many things he loved about you. That’s what made you so different from the other pouges. 

“Y/n?” He whispers. “Hm?” You ask in the same volume that he had used. “I like you a lot.” You smile and grip his shoulder. “I like you a lot too, JJ.” He shakes his head and lays down on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. “No Y/n,” he sighs, while closing his eyes. “I don’t think you understand. I like you a lot.” You tilt your head for a second in confusion, but instantly look at him wide eyed when you get what he meant. “Wha- JJ? Are you serious?” But he doesn't respond. All you heard from him was his silent snores. You get up from his bed and look down at him, to see he was fast asleep. Your breathing starts to pick up as you pace around the room silently. “Oh my god, oh my god. He didn’t mean that, right? He’s just drunk.. right? My god Y/n, who are you even asking? You’re alone. Right.. okay.” You stop pacing and grab a blanket that’s folded on JJ’s bed and cover him, leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. “You better have meant what you said JJ, or I’ll kill you.” 

You leave a letter for him and go on your way, hoping he calls you in the morning or is not too sick to remember what he meant. 

Dear JJ, 

It’s your favorite person :) You were pretty drunk last night so the pouges left you some water and medicine while I took care of you. When you wake up, give me a call, okay? We kinda need to talk. And please JJ, try not to get so drunk anymore. You worry me when you do. I care about you. Girlfriend or not. 

Love, Y/n <3

-----

JJ wakes up the next morning with a groan and a pounding headache. He felt like he got hit by a truck. He never drinks this much and he knew it, but for some reason last night was different. He was trying to forget. And apparently it worked because he forgot what he was trying to forget. Bingo. He blinks a couple of times to get his vision from blurry to clear before standing up and stretching. He  looks down at his nightstand and finds a folded piece of paper and instantly recognizes your handwriting. 

He opens the letter and reads it. His eyes go wide when he reads “girlfriend or not.” He starts to wonder what he could’ve possibly said to you last night for you to include that in the letter, but his memory is failing him. Nevertheless, he finds his phone and quickly finds your contact, hesitantly clicking “call.” 

You answer after a couple of rings with a chipper yet out of breath ‘hello.’ 

“Hey Y/n..” he says softly, hearing your pants. “Are you okay?” he asks with a hint of concern in his voice. “Yeah J, I-I’m good. Just surfing. Why don’t you join me? None of the other pouges are here, and I’d like to talk to you, if that’s okay.” You didn’t sound mad or upset, which JJ took into consideration. The last thing he ever wanted was to make you upset. “Sure, yeah. I’m on my way.” 

-----

JJ meets you on the beach about 15 minutes after your phone call. “Hey J!” You say, running up to him with a smile. “How are you feeling?” You ask him, and he just rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m a little out of it but the strangest thing is that I don’t remember anything from last night.” Your face instantly drops and JJ is quick to recognize your disappointment. “Oh..” you sigh, biting the inside of your cheek and looking down. “What’s the matter? Did I say something last night? Y/n whatever I said, I didn’t mean it, okay?” You look back up at JJ with a bit of tears in your eyes. “You said you liked me,” you mumble, making JJ tilt his head. “Of course I like you,” he chuckles. You shake your head, realizing you were mimicking his actions from last night. “No JJ. You said you liked me.” His eyes go wide, immediately realizing what you meant. “Oh.. Y/n, I- I don’t-”

“Did you mean it J?”

“Y/N-”

“Just tell me JJ. Please. Don’t lie to me, okay?”

 JJ looks down for a moment, contemplating on whether or not he should tell the truth to you and potentially ruin the friendship, or lie to you, and ruin the friendship even further. He saw how hurt you look when he said he didn’t remember, so maybe, just maybe, there was a slight chance that you liked him back. 

“I like you Y/n. I do. More than a friend. I didn’t want to tell you while I was shitfaced and with you taking care of me. But I did, and I’m sorry. You deserved a better confession from me. I really do like you Y/n but if you don’t like me back then that’s okay. I ju- are you crying?!”

You wipe the tears away as you chuckle from JJ’s concerned face from you crying. “Of course I am, you idiot!” You exclaim, walking closer to him. “JJ I like you too. So much. I was really hoping you were telling the truth because I don’t think I could watch you have one night stands anymore,” you laugh, and so does he. “So does this mean..” his voice trails off but you knew what he meant. You nod with a smile and he returns it, blinking slowly. 

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Please do.”

[muffindaddystyles]

Will mafia!h and Y/N will have babies? 🥺💓

IM SO SORRY TO TELL YOU THIS BESTIE BUT.... </3

39. " I'm not saying a goodbye."

It was raining. Skies a gloomy shade of cinereal. Harry’s sleek car came to a screeching halt infront of the vast threshold of his home -- his grin pearlish, eyes twinkling a spark as he gets out of the car not caring to close the door behind. He greets his staff and strides two steps together with a gorgeous bunch of his lovie’s favourite flowers now dewy with raindrops and his nose twitched upon sniffing the vanilla-y smell while passing the kitchen and with his beam never vanishing he leaned into the doorframe asking the people inside, “’Ave y'seen Y/N?” Only for them to shake their heads in uncertainty.

She hasn’t showed herself downstairs since morning and even though it’s very odd of her not to chirp around the mansion nobody went to knock at her door to inquire, they think she deserves privacy.

This time they should have because when Harry barged inside their room it was caliginous with curtains shut and lights dimmed to zero.

“Lovie?” His cheery voice clamoured against the walls, a sour feeling he couldn’t be aware of pinches him in throat as he bobbed his head around to look for her and it perked up when a shadow falls on his feet.

“Baby?” His smile quirked back onto his confused features and he narrowed his eyelids to take in her presence through the darkness of wardrobe, “Harry.” A shaky whisper floated towards him and before that sweet call she was falling against his chest.

“Y/N ... baby —-,” His stumped chuckle halted, his brain numbed for a moment when his fingertips brushed up her back to push her closer to him and they trembled as they collected the wetness there. His heart bleaks a stinging pain into it’s cords, his breath shuddered coldly, flowers falling sadly beside their feet and his eyes earths with tears of panic, angst and torment.

His fingertips coating in his love's thick blood.

“I –- ‘m .. you –.. you’re h-hu —- hurt,” He stammered through a whimper hand wrapping around the dagger whose half end’s stabbed into Y/N's spine, her weak frail body unresponsive though she could listen to him.

“Who did this to you! Who did this to you!?” His screams and cries startled everyone downstairs and they rushed up to see what’s happening, to be shocked by their sights of Y/N limp in Harry’s embrace.

He turned his neck to shout at them, “I need a hand t’help me!!” His eyes bloodshot and Niall his best-man scurried over to them as Harry carried Y/N and laid her on her tummy on the bed, he slips onto his knees putting his chin on the mattress to look in her hazy painful eyes -- tears caged in them but never flowing down.

“Harry ...” She mumbled grittily in agony lifting her shaky fingers to pet his face and like an affection starved kitten Harry doesn’t let her tire herself and gets closer to her himself, “Niall bring the first aid, it’s under the sink.” He commands him not letting his eyes drift from over her angelic face.

“You’re okay baby. You’re okay, I know how to stitch up knife wounds.” He sniffled sucking in a breath trying to be brave for her and she just smiled gorgeously, lips blue and cheeks draining out of her usual berry stain.

“Jesus. Harry she’s been stabbed thrice, those fuckers,” Niall’s words wavered in fear and sympathy for Y/N. He squeezed Harry’s shoulder as Harry sobbed upon hearing that, “No –-... no, no! It’s still okay yeah poppet? I’m g’na get y'alright.” He wanted to covers his eyes to block the hurting groans Y/N elicited and he cradled her soft face in his warm palms in comparison to her temperature, touching their temples to pray together.

“Harry li .. listen to —- to me,” She gasps eyes flittering over his shoulder towards Bambi and Thumper the two dogs that had gotten overly fond of her, Harry’s blurry gaze follows her enfeebled gesture for them to come near her.

They whined and howled sadly flopping beside Harry and Harry hiccupped into his elbow shaking his head when Y/N put her hand under their ears in effort to scratch them but wasn’t able to unfortunately, “Hi babies. You’re gonna look after dad after ‘m gone?” Everyone cried at that watching her soul leave their dull lives that watered colourful upon her arrival.

“Don’t say that! Don’t y'dare say that!” Harry sobbed rushing to hug her tightly, the front of his shirt loathing crimson and she hissed looping her arm against his neck when Niall pulled the dagger out from her lower spine gradually and slowly not to hurt her.

“’M so sorry baby, sorry for being the reason of y’pain.” His tears dampened her already sweaty crook of neck, ��Pr – promise me t-that that you’ll have some —.. someone who lov‐-.. loves –--,” She whimpered. Her body jerked into him with a force and she pushed him weakly away to stitch her lips tenderly against his's.

“Tell me bubby. Ha—- have I loved y'enough?” She cooed into their kiss and Harry bolted his eyes shut, poisonous sobs wrecking out of his chest.

“Tell me before, I go ...” Her heartbeat started dropping insanely, her lips wobbled, toes curling with life excavating out of her, “Y'have. Y'have don’t go baby, I’m not saying a goodbye!” He cried showering her in kisses for the one last time and pets her hair, eyes closed praying she takes him with herself because he'd never recover from the pain of loosing the only person he loved more than himself, the person who made hum love himself.

“I love you ..” She whispered, her loving kind eyes locked against his’s and the pool of honey around her rims expanded, her lips parted around the gasping breaths and Harry begged and pleaded — a side of him no-one has ever witnessed as he twisted in anguish considering himself the unluckiest man on the earth for letting his lover go like this, in the worst possible way.

“I love you, I thought I’d never be capable of, y'made me worthy darling. I'll always love you baby....” He shrieked into her chest heaving her up gently to embrace her properly and even though he knew she was no more with him, he fooled himself into thinking so.

If it was possible he’d have clawed his ribs to pluck out his heart in return of hers and he felt like the sun and earth had crashed vanishing away the time spaces as he sat there crying and crying mourning the loss of his lovie that could never be healed by anything in this whole word.

He keeps on holding her, rocking back and forth as he lulls her to slumber of death.

It hurts. It hurts so bad.

His heart weeps.

His soul aches.

When rain stopped and that tranquil silence doomed over them, rage filled his every pore and vein.

He knew who did this. Harry has played dirty but he has never played unfair. It was this gang of companies who sabotaged and destructed the orphanages at the property which belonged to his mother (but the papers weren’t clear) to build restaurants and apartments there so Harry took revenge by burning acres of their illegal drug running underground factory and rebuilt the orphanages and took Y/N to one of their charity events.

She was the happiest he had ever seen her.

It’s like a gun barrel clicked in. A firecracker catching the fuse of ashe to burst everything into flames as Harry laid her with ever most tenderness and kissed her temple, her lifeless eyelids and her chapped lips.

Cleaned the streak of blood with his sleeve and didn’t wipe his tears away bashing out of the room, everyone stepped away as Niall lunged infront of him to stop him before he goes to cause damage to himself more than to them for being in such a vulnerable and weak state.

“Step away.” He growled angrily, gaze fiery and dangerous.

“No.” Niall sighed.

“I wouldn’t get her buried in sucha cold blood. She didn’t deserved this, hell nobody does.” Harry kissed his teeth together gripping at his hair ruthlessly, cheeks dry with tears, his limbs trembling, his head spinning.

“Anyone who wouldn’t follow my orders gets their kneecaps blow-off.” He grunted -- nostrils flaring and saying this he went away, snatching his guns from the console and ordered his men to find the security guards that had their duties at the main gates.

In just a day he hunted each of those monsters down like a hungry wolf and gave them such punished, tortured deaths that each one fell in Harry’s feet for his mercy but his heart was turned into a stone already because the only warmth it had there was because of one person and that person’s gone leaving him to survive in this hellhole alone while he dragged these bastards to the depths of firepits.

Once, coming back home to her. To his sunshine, to his soul and life, to his reasons of getting up every morning so he would get to spend time with her —- he broke down. Into shattered bits and pieces of remorse, guilt and sadness feeling himself so small and hurtable as he cried to himself all alone in their garden with no-one to console him where he’ll come to meet her daily.

He wants to rip his skin apart and set it on fire for his beating heart to stop, for it stop feeling.

He feels sick. Fainting, in urgency and desperation to hold his baby and never let go.

To lay down with her under the soil if that's possible.

his only reason to live.

His only beloved.

.

The wind giggles through pink leaves of cherry blossom tree, lush grass resting peacefully and Harry smiles to himself treading towards his two most favourite people in the world.

The spring being their heartiest month.

“Azalea! What y’chattering ‘bout t'mum?” He asks and nods proudly when his lil boy stands up from his cross position on the ground from beside his mother and brushes the grassy spikes from his cherry printed shorts with his little pudgy hands.

“My first day at school dada!” The four years old squeals and Harry scoops him up in his arms, kissing his cheek again amount less times, “Is that so, huh! huh!” He tickles his little bun.

Y/N was right. Isn’t she always. Harry chuckles. Even if she’s gone he still feels loved from her, she’s in the rains, in the sweaters he wears when he feels shallow, in the scent of his pillows, she’s in the vanilla smell of their favourite cupcakes – she’s in his dreams and that name of their son, Azalea.

She always wanted to name their first born Azalea, a blooming flower that happens to be a vibrant pink, a gift of spring, are floriferous in sunshine and she'd always say that Harry would be their sun.

Their ever source of happiness.

Azalea was three days old when his mother died and Harry took him home even though not sure of his own decision but something in those little eyes that matches his mommy made Harry’s heart attract towards him so much he brought him without another thought.

A home he built with Y/N. The curtains of the mansion still remains pushed back wide, flower vases on every furniture, not a day goes by when anyone doesn’t misses her and the ducklings has grown so much that Y/N would have been spinning in happiness around.

Nothing has changed, life’s fleeting for everyone except for Harry. He counts each day and night that goes without her beside him in his sleep, in the little picnics with Azalea and Niall, in the story reading at nights with his baby, in kitchen to watch the winters first rain prattling against that one window that’s old enough to carry the remains of his ancestors, she’s never there to share a noodle pot with him while he sits and eat alone, never there to patch his favourite socks back, to kiss his forehead whenever he leaves home, to call him sweet names and to laugh with him on his silly jokes, to do thumb fights, to get angry with him whenever he refuses to layer himself in cold.

Never.

Never physically. But, she’s always there in his heart, her presence lurks around him and he could feel the warmth of her wrapping around him whenever he falls asleep watching telly.

“What did y'learn today bubba?” He asks Azalea and grins cheekily when Azalea babbles, “Colours!”

“That’s fuckin’ amazin'!” At that a huge gush of breeze hits him in face a tiny branch of the tree they’re standing under falls on his head.

“Kay' kay fine! No cursing.” He squeaks in defence pouting down at the grave of his lovie and his face splits into a grin when his hair glittered up with cherry blossom leaves.

“We miss you very much,” His voice heavy and sad. He gulps chokingly and blinks away the glossiness, stroking a thumb up Azalea cheek who’s sitting in Harry’s lap.

Every evening they come to meet Y/N, the hole in his heart couldn’t fill up of her void but the soothing feeling of relief that she’s in their garden and nearer to him has lessened the grief.

“G’na meet you tomorrow, our baby’s mighty hungry.” He chuckles hearing the grumbling noises coming from Azalea’s belly.

“You’re so cheeky baby.” His eyes glimmers and he feels himself swooning into breeze, “How’s it going in heaven?” He asks airily tracing his initials beside her beautiful name engraved at the tombstone and it’s like she’s scolding him when he gets a nip on his pointy finger.

“Azalea kiss mommy a goodbye.” Harry breaks into laughter when Azalea bobs his head and almost tumbles of his daddy’s lap in the effort to reach the tombstone.

“Goodbye beautiful.” Harry whispers kissing the top of her tombstone and his heart bursts into lilacs when once again he’s showered into petal like leaves.

“I love you too, baby.” Finally he has accepted to say goodbyes.

[thesmokingguns]

Off To the Races

Pairing: Nikki Sixx!Douglas Booth

Request: Off To The Races by Lana Del Rey

Summary: You are my one true love. She is there for him at all of his worst moments. Coaxing him through his high, making him smile and laugh. She’s at parties dancing with her red smile calling for him. She’s swimming in the pool when he’s drunk and stoned. She’s there through it all. No ones loved Nikki like her. All consuming. His only thought. She is his entire world. And his works is crumbling.

Warning: Heavy themes of drug use, drug induced hallucinations, alcohol abuse, suicidal thoughts.

Word Count: 2270

Taglist: @littlemisscare-all​​​​​ @ayablackwood​​​​​ @agroupiewhore@thenobodies-inc​​​​​ @dannasixxworld​​​​ @val-sixx​​​​@nikkisqueenofsleaze​​​​ @rocknrollsoul76​ @aggressive-slytherin​

My old man is a bad man, but

I can't deny the way he holds my hand

And he grabs me, he has me by my heart

He doesn't mind I have a Las Vegas past

He doesn't mind I have a L.A. crass way about me

He loves me, with every beat of his cocaine heart

My eyes are heavy, fingers twisting the belt around my arm to loosen the pressure. The needle drops to the floor, the carpet holding any sound in. Blinking, looking around the cramped closet I see my journal, my revolver, and more smack for after this dosage.

What a life.

My head rolls back smacking the wood paneling with a dull thud that vibrates through me. My hands shaking, waves of fingers in front of me. There’s a bit of blood coming from the injection pin prick in my arm and I’m find myself stumbling to my feet, sweeping the gun off the floor and tucking it in the waistband of my jeans as I head to the bathroom.

It’s washing over me, the feeling I’m always chasing. The fleeting moment of happiness is like a warm blanket wrapping itself around me.

The giggle stops me in my tracks, eyes searching the hallway searching for her. I thought she had left after our last fight. She called me a quitter and was mad I was giving up my partying ways. She loved to have a good time and she thought I was giving up on her.

Guess she was wrong.

The flash of brown hair catches my attention and I’m stumbling, laughing as I chase her through the house. Her laughter was infectious and made me forget about the blood dripping down my forearm.

In the kitchen she turns, giving me that megawatt smile that felt like my heart was feeling something other than the melancholy that usually filled it. She stops and lets me catch her, letting me wrap my arms around her holding her close to me. Smelling the exotic sweetness of her hair as she engulfs me with her golden skin, bangles tinkling down her arms like a musical number.

Safe and warm, happiness and euphoria of her presence with me here. The place that was my Mecca of solitude. Pulling back, confused for a second I try to think about how she got here.

“How did you get in?” As if she senses the confusion in my voice she kisses me, giving me no doubt she is here with me. Warm and solitude against my skin, fire in my veins.

“You let me in.” She purred, letting her mouth kiss along my jawline. Soft hot breath tickling me as she pressed against me, bumping the gun as she rolled her body against mine. “It looks like you’re locked and loaded, ready to go.” Her hands in my hair as she’s touching parts of me I forgot existed.

God I missed this.

Swimmin' pool glimmerin', darling

White bikini off with my red nail polish

Watch me in the swimmin' pool, bright blue ripples

You sittin', sippin' on your Black Cristal, oh yeah

Light of my life, fire of my loins

Be a good baby, do what I want

Light of my life, fire of my loin

I wake up with a gasp.

What time is it? What day is it? Where am I?

Looking around, frantic panic as I realize I’m asleep in the lawn chair by the pool. An empty bottle of Jack Daniels is smashed beside me, glass decorating the concrete in sharp glares of warning.

The sound of a splash throws me off and there she is. Her brown hair wet as she rests her elbows outside the pool, placing her head in her hands with that gleaming smile.

“Well hello sleepyhead. Did you have good dreams?” I don’t know if she’s asking out of kindness or mocking me. I’m drenched in sweat, possibly from falling asleep in the LA afternoon but most likely from the night terrors that always haunt me.

I dreamt I was running. From who or from what was the issue. Everything in my brain was foggy. My eyes snapped up at the setting sun. Has it been a full day already? Was it longer?

The phone rang from inside the house and I knew it must be someone from the band calling or my drug dealer. One of those felt more important than the other and I wasn’t ready to admit which one that was.

I got up, swearing as a piece of glass cut open my door, glaring as she giggle and dipped under the water. A trail of blood followed me into the house as I picked up the phone.

“Hello.” My voice felt gruff and it hurt to talk, like I hadn’t used it in a while. My head was killing me and I felt ready to throw up.

What the fuck had I been doing?

“Jesus Nikki, we’ve been trying to reach you for a week.” A week? I had lost hours, maybe a day here and there but a whole week. Jesus Christ. “Are you okay man? Why don’t you come out tonight with us?” Tommy was begging me and I sighed.

I was embarrassed. I didn’t want everyone to see me when I had been on a bender. I hadn’t seen what I looked like yet but I was sure that it was like hell.

“I don’t know, T-Bone. I think I have the flu or something. I just don’t feel great.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

Something fluttered beside me and there she was. A white dress on her thin frame. How had she dried off and changed so quickly? Was I loosing more time? Eyes shining as she held out a silver platter of white powder. She loved to party and must have known that my band would want to see me out. At least if I was doing coke with them they didn’t have to worry about finding me dead.

“Where are you going to be?” I relented, watching her twirl. The energy coming off her was exhilarating and I wanted to join her in the ever present state of delight.

My nose was down against the lines, snorting messily, my brain burning, eyes widening as I sniffed a few times to get the whole lot out of my nose. Wiping and then turning to her.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and ready to go out on the town.” She was leading me to the bathroom. My blood rushing everywhere as I was alive and awake and fucking ready to party.

I need you to come here and save me

I'm your little scarlet, starlet, singin' in the garden

Kiss me on my open mouth

Ready for you

Why had I agreed to go to a club?

In the booth we had a mess of drugs, pills and coke scattered on the table like appetizers. Bottles of booze and half empty beer bottles added to the maze of debauchery.

How long have I been here?

I couldn’t remember driving or even getting to the club. All I could remember was hands all over me in the shower, washing the filth off myself. The gentle voice reminded me to wear long sleeves to hide my track marks.

My eyes searched for her. In the sea of women I was sure she would stand out. But all the flashing lights and the noise was confusing me.

The room was spinning, the conversation around me overwhelming me and I could feel Tommy’s hand on my back. My head rolled back, the club's lightning needed to be updated.

A hand was smacking my face and I saw Tommy, wide eyed, looking at me before I turned to the table, throwing up the only thing I had in my body. Brown liquid shot out, mixed with the acid in the stomach. It didn’t stop for what felt like a full minute.

When I finished, puke leaking down in steady droplets to the floor I grabbed a beer tang I had missed and chugged the foamy substance down. I tried not to make eye contact with the people giving us disgusting sneers.

“Oh baby, why don’t you let me take you home? Let me take care of you.” Her hands wrapped around me and I turned, nodding. Confused looks from everyone as I climbed out, reaching for her to take me back into the safety of her arms.

Light of his life, fire of his loins

Keep me forever, tell me you own me

Light of your life, fire of your loins

Her fingers were in my hair as I laid on her lap. The fire from my lighter hitting my pipe as I inhaled and exhaled the sweet delight.

Freebasing in my closet. But at least I wasn’t alone. I had her with me and that changed my usual mood of wanting to slit my wrists or press the gun against my head and pulling the trigger. Painting the inside of my closet with bits of skull fragments and blood-

“Come back to me.” Her voice was lulling me out of the dark place, pressing against my temples and using the magic of her voice to help me. She was the only one that was always there for me. Always making me feel better and dragging me from the pain of my life. Holding me in her arms, compassion and understanding.

She never judged me.

“Have we been here long?” She knew I liked to keep my responsibilities. I wanted to keep my appearance as the rockstar. I couldn’t let anyone know how bad that it had gotten. How I couldn’t stop. How doing drugs was the best part of my life. My one true love.

Except her. She was the one thing I loved more than drugs.

“You have band practice in a few hours.” She reminded me. Her voice was steady and calm, fingers running through my hair and keeping me calm as I took another hit.

I just needed a little more time before I could see anyone. Just a little more time in the closet with her holding me before going out into the world.

“Nikki, don’t let them tell you to give me up. I love you Nikki. Aren’t I the only one who has always been there for you? No one else cares for you like I do. They see you as a rockstar or as a junkie. But I see you. I see you.” Her words promised and I nodded my head, agreeing with her words. She was still so calm, even with the edge to her voice. The words stuck with me.

She saw me and I saw her too.

I'm sorry that I'm misbehaving

I'm your little harlot, starlet, Queen of Coney Island

Raisin' hell all over town

Sorry 'bout it

I didn’t want to go to band practice. I didn’t want them to see my shaking hands or ask my stupid fucking questions that didn’t matter.

At least she had agreed to go with me. Her brown hair wrapped in one of those silky driving scarfs like the 1960s, big sunglasses to hide the hangover in her eyes that she was surely feeling after we had partied. Her hand was on his lap, keeping him steady as he drove to the practice space.

Walking inside, I hide my eyes behind big sunglasses, I could feel the sweat glistening like a second skin on my body. Anxiety crippling me as I licked my lips wanting to get back to my house.

My eyes followed her, watching her move around the instruments shooting me a smile as she ran her hands down my bass. I couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Yo, Nikki, are you okay?” Tommy’s voice made me turn away from her nodding as I sat down hard on the couch. I had never brought a girl to practice before so I was sure they were surprised to see her. To see me so happy with someone.

“Come here.” I held my arms open, watching her smile as she bounced towards me twisting around the guys as they watched me. The brunette plopped down on my lap and I held her close looking out at them.

“What are you playing at?” Vince asked, the confusion was written across his face and I felt angry. Vince had been parading chicks through band practice for years. And now he was acting like this? Fucking asshole.

“Cmon, show her some respect, dicks.” She was shifting in my arms holding onto me and purring sweet words in my ears, my eyes closing and only coming awake when Vince kicked my shin.

“Show who respect?” My eyes went up to look at her but she was glaring at them. Her eyes were on fire as if she was protecting me from the band.

“Nikki, we should go. Let’s go home and I’ll take care of you. You don’t need this. I don’t need this. This was a bad idea, Nikki. A very bad idea.” She was getting up tugging at me to leave.

“My girl.” I was standing gesturing at her beside me, watching the way her dark eyes were slits now. Anger so clear as she tried to wrap herself around me and get me away from them.

They sat there, no one saying a word as they looked at each other and than a me. I turned to look at her, panic was there as she stepped forward touching my face, my eyes closing at the sweet caresses from her fingers. My skin feeling alive like bristling fire under her touch

“It’s me and you Nikki. Don’t forget how I love you. I love you always. No judgement. No-“

“Nikki, no ones there.” Tommy’s voice came out soft and I turned to look from her to him, feeling the slender hand slip out of mine. I went to tell her to wait but she was gone.

Whirling around I saw it was just the band in the space, no mystery brunette anywhere in sight. I collapsed on the couch gripping my hair as my teeth gnashed together.

This was the furthest it had come. The lowest point of my drug addiction. In my loneliness I had created a woman out of heroin. Someone to make me feel less alone when I shot up.

I created love through a needle and that was when I knew I needed to stop if I ever wanted to love anything again.

I'm not afraid to say that I'd die without him

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?

I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!

[tommyspeakycap]

Hi love, I adore your writing so much! And as you just asked for some ideas/concepts here’s mine for Jack Grealish from prompts list 2: fluff #11 where he’s asking her (she’s his best friend) to go for a walk cause there’s so much going on in his life and he just needs to talk. fluff #36, angst #31 and a happy ending please? Basically a Best friends to lovers thing as I’m a sap for that…thank you!! xx

Fluff #11; “I know it’s 2 in the morning but do you want to…”

Fluff #36; “because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”

hope I did this justice for you!

Fell for you

“Jesus god,” you grumbled with hands aimlessly palming across the mattress for the blaring sound of your phone from its place charging somewhere on the bed. Your next move is an elongated “Ahhhhh,” sound, fatigue still holding tightly onto your body in a way that seals your eyes shut even as you try to shut off the sound your phone was deafening your with. In a wakened state, you might’ve noticed that it was your ringtone that had interrupted your sleep. However as tired as you were you ruled it as your alarm right away and moved yourself into seated position with the duvet still wrapped tight around you and your eyes still shut.

You were suspended in that space between being asleep and being awake, still sitting up when the offensive sound came screaming through your phone once again.

This time, your eyes snapped open in fright and the fatigue-blurred letters of Jack Grealish’s name popped up across the top of your screen.

“How is it morning already?” You protest down the line, a heavy sigh passing your lips to follow. Jack’s chuckle can be heard through the line, “It’s not.” He replies simply, prompting you to pull your phone away from your ear to hold out in front if your face.

02:17am

“Then why on earth am I up?” You mumble, a question more posed to yourself than the man on the other end. “Wait, why are you up? And why are you calling so early?”

“I’m outside your door.”

“You’re what?!” You throw back your duvet and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You’ve hung up the phone already by the time you reach the front door at a tired shuffle. His hair is tousled when you see him, like he’s been running his hands through it over and over, you imagine that he has. He does that when he’s stressed. You have to squint against the street lights and his car headlights outside, still on as it sits running on the street. “Can we go somewhere?” He asks, his voice as desperate as his eyes look when he speaks, begging you to agree. Not that he would need to beg. You’d do anything for that man. Even if it did mean dragging yourself from your bed at 2 in the morning.

“Course.”

No question, no pressure. He loves that from you. He knows you’ll ask him later and when the time is right you’ll force him to tell you of course. Now is not that time yet and you’re nowhere near awake enough to do so much anyway. “Let me just grab my-“

“I have a hoodie in the car and your shoes in my boot.” He cuts in, tugging your arm gently out the door of your house. He knows you better than any other person in this world, so he knows full and well that there’s not much you are going to do in the way of protesting when you’re so soon out of sleep. He’d often teased with layers of worry deeper beneath that he genuinely worried for you living on your own. You open the door to people far too easily, and he will not fail to bring that up sometime tomorrow. For now, he steps into your doorway where you had stood moments before, grabs your keys from the cabinet and pulls the door closed behind him with a click of the latch locking behind him.

The cold paving stones beneath your feet make you shine in protest, shifting your weight between each one to ease the chill. In was in that cold that you look down and make the realisation, or rather come to remember the fact that you don’t have any pyjama bottoms on. “Jack!” You yelp, “I’m not wearing trousers!” You suddenly feel very exposed and rightly so, standing outside your home suddenly very awake in only a long claret and blue shirt that only extended down to the middle of your thighs. “Eh?” He whips around, “You what?”

It’s only now he really takes you in with rosy cheeks from embarrassment, your hair messed up from your sleep. His frantic eyes soften and his heart stops thundering in his chest finally. The sight of you there calms him. You’re there. Right there. His (y/n) is right there in front of him.

“What’s the rush, Jack? Is everything okay?”

Your gentle words and tired eyes bring him back to the ground, the flurry of his racing thoughts only now finally calmed. He often acts on impulse, but you are always able to slow his brain down a few paces. His sits heavily, "I know it's two am but...do you think we could go somewhere. My heads fuckin'... I don't even know." He dips back down to run that hand through his hair once again. His words stoke a bit of a worry in you, head tilted to the side in question. Jack doesn't tend to be the kind who gets himself panicked and all wound up like he has right now. That's more your half of the friendship. You did the worrying, he did the easygoing.

"It's okay, Jack. Of course. Come on then, let's go." You nod your head and he goes around the back of the car to get the shoes and socks he promised you. You very nearly choked up a lung when he presented you with a brand new Balenciaga box. "What the fuck, Jack?" You all but wheeze out, head whipping towards him climbing into the passenger seat.

"Got you a present 'cause I'm leaving soon." He shrugs with a jaw-dropping ease. You list open the lid and inside sit a pair of sliders that cost nearly £400. You physically gawp. "Oh my god."

"What?" Jack asks, drawing out of his parking spot on the street, "Heard you telling your mum you needed new sliders for the summer, do you not like 'em?"

His nerves would be clear in his voice if you hadn't been in such a ferocious level of shock. You're glad you weren't eating anything because it surely would have choked you to death. Of course you had seen Jack wearing brands like Balenciaga, Gucci, Versace and the likes, but you had never owned such an expensive piece of clothing. "I mean of course I love them, J but I meant from Primark or bloody amazon, you shouldn't have spent al that money on me." You protested, but Jack really pays it no mind. In fact, the suggestion that you don't deserve everything luxurious that this world has to offer offends him more than it does anything else. You should know that you deserve everything good that this world can give and he has the means to actually give that to you. He'd count himself an absolute fool not to.

"Gonna pretend you didn't say that." He mutters, eyes kept carefully on the empty road ahead of his car. Your eyebrows are furrowed, a part of you brain still very much trying to a) wake up and b) process the expensive of the gift he handed to you so casually. "Not arguing about it either." His voice cuts you off the second you open your mouth to speak, shutting down your protest before it even leaves you.

As the fatigue of your sleep wears off, your mind continues to be just as boggled as it had been the moment his name popped up on your screen at 2am, if not more boggled now.

"You're acting so weird, Jack. What the hell is going on with you today?" Your insistence is careful with your pressure. It's enough to try to open him up but not enough to make it sound like a confrontation. Neither you nor Jack like confrontation especially with each other. The words make him chew on his lip as he careens the large white range rover through a turn that leads up a gravel road that crunches beneath his tires. The stops when he's met with a with a large gate that prevents cars but a little slot for people to walk through. Jack leaves his door open when he leaves the car with a curtly mumbled "Stay here" as he does. He pushes open the gate with ease before he gets back in the car and follows the path up the hill further.

He stop abruptly in a very small gravel car park without any parking lines to abide and steps out, slamming his door behind him like he absolutely always does; you swear that man couldn't be quiet if his life depended on it. Which was another reason why you were so surprised by his silence. You clamber out after him with that same fear of falling flat on your face that always fills your mind each and every time you leave his car. But Jack is where he has been every time you step out the Range Rover since the first day he got it; standing by your door to hold your hand so you can jump out without a trip onto the gravel beneath. He shuts the door behind you and hands you a spare pair of his loose fitting track pants.

On an average day you might've teased the reason he hasn't worn them was because they wouldn't have squeezed the life out his legs. Today wasn't one of those days, so you slip them on without a word. Followed up by his way too big for you socks and the brand new black slides. Even wide awake, this confuses you to no end. Jack was never quiet and never elusive. He was boisterous, loud, open and confident.

The second you turn around, you realise why he brought you here.

The view of the stars, the sky completely clear. There wasn't a street lamp in sight. The moon provided the kind of spotlight hue that you kind of thought only existed in the enhancement of Hollywood movies. "Woah," you breathe, words stolen by its beauty.

"Yeah," Jack laughs, "Now you know how I feel every time I look at you."

You head turns to him so fast it sends your head spinning a little, or maybe that's just the shock of his words. You couldn't tell.

"What?"

He shrugs his shoulders, scuffing his feet along the gravel to meet up with where you stand. But he freezes before he gets the chance.

"Why are you wearing that?" He asks, a very sudden cold change in his tone that actually makes your body feel colder. "Wearing what? This?" You gesture to the claret and blue shirt you had thrown on in a haste to get to him standing at your front door a short while ago. You turn to see his unhappy scowl and the firm discontented cross of his strong arms. "Yeah that," he grumbles, "And where'd you even get it." He adds with a flare of his nostrils. He looks adorable angry like this, like he's trying so hard to look angry when his emotions lie truly elsewhere.

You look down at the shirt with furrowed brows, before you shift your shoulder forward, crane your neck and pull the material around to view the back as best you could. "What's wrong with it?" You ask finally, attempts to defy the natural state of your body failing to allow you to see your back.

"It's Ginny's." Jack states as if its the most obvious thing in the world. You just look at him bewildered. "And?"

He huffs as he takes a few more heavy steps up to you, looking like he had a lot of things to say without any way of being able to get them to coordinate from his brain to his lips. "Why do you have Ginny's shirt though?"

You breathe a little bit of laughter at him, shaking your head softly. "it was just a joke. I saw him after a match waiting for you so I jumped out at him and pretended to be a fan for a video and he signed it and gave to me as a joke. I just threw it on when you showed up at my door in the middle of the night. Wasn't exactly a fashion statement."

Jack still grunts in dissatisfaction at your answer, refusing to meet your eyes. "You have plenty of mine to wear though, don't need his." His argues in a disgruntled grumble. You raise and drop your arms down by your side with a sigh. He was really testing your patience now. "Hm, last time I checked you couldn't give me yours anymore because your ex didn't like it." You protest with a wag of your finger, making him turn his head downwards with something like a shudder running through him at the mention of her name. "Yeah well there's a reason she's my ex innit." He mutters under his breath.

"What the hell is the problem with you today Jack?" You exclaim, his eyes jolting to you in surprise. You don't often snap.

"First you show up at my door in the middle of the night and drag me out of my house and then you won't actually speak to me and now you're picking a fight about John M fucking Ginn?" You snap, the anger and confusion he had stirred up showing in your emphatic hand gestures that only come out when you're telling him a passionate story or going off your head at him. "He's your best mate, why would that even bother you?!"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I'm not done, Jack!" You yell, holding out a hand. "You haven't even spoken to me all week. I found out you made the England call up on fucking twitter Jack, twitter! And your mum told me about you dumping your girl and I can't even get through to you and now you're buying me gifts and bringing me here? I don't know if I'm coming or going here Jack, you have to give me something. We're meant to be friends." You voice breaks on the last syllable and a lump forms in Jack's throat that he can't just swallow away. Any pain, any hurt and any slight sadness of emotion that appears in you shatters his heart. He thought that was a normal reaction until two weeks ago when he realised it only happens to him when its your upset he witnesses.

"I'm sorry." He says, his voice thick and wavering with the same level of emotion. "I really, really am." He stands right in front of you now, so close you're basically chest to chest, faces merely inches apart.

"And I'm scared." He admits, sending a pang through your already aching heart. "Scared because I'm leaving and I can't take you with me." His words tickle your lips as they leave his, clouds of air puffing above the two of you as his hot breath meets the cold night air. "You've done it before, J. It'll be fine." You soothe, hands gently raising to reach up and brush the hair out of his face. His let's forth a content sigh of relief at the feeling of your touch. "That was before though." He confesses with a slight shrug. He watches that furrow sow itself back into your brows.

"Before what?"

"Dance with me?" He suggests, his arms finding their way around you with ease, much less fumbley than you remember from your high school prom. Your head tilts in that adorable confused way that makes a grin form on his cold lips.

"Why?" You query, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion. He laughs softly. "Because the music is slow and the sky is gorgeous and because I love you."

Before you get the chance to recognise, process or even understand what he said, he's swaying you around the gravel under the stars.

"Because you what?" You squeak, your eyes desperately searching his as you look for any reason this might be some kind of a joke or one of pranks that makes you want to throttle him. He just smiles at you with those crinkled eyes and the love shining right there in his eyes for you to see. Your stomach flutters like the teenager you were when you fell in love with him. His lips dip down to capture yours in the best kiss that your being has ever felt, his hands ringing your hair, stroking down over your cheeks with those warm hands of his.

"Because I've fell for you, isn't it obvious?"

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Dog Tags

Billy Russo x Female!Reader

Request by @nebulastarr​ : Hey! Whenever requests open up again, could you do a Billy Russo x Reader where the reader liked Billy but doesn’t want to tell him because she thinks he won’t feel the same way

A/N: I was going to wait and get down to writing this once I was finished with my series... But this one has simply hit a little too close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I saw it and I ended up putting a lot of personal stuff in it so I’m sorry if it feels chaotic at times. Thank you for requesting, love, I hope it lives up to your expectations.    The Only Living Thing series will be back with its third part next week.  The song: Isak Danielson - Power

All you heard was an excited scream, that raised above all of the New York’s past-6-pm commotion, as a slender tall body smashed into you, locking you in a bone-crushing hug. You laughed happily, albeit feeling a little bit uncomfortable in Karen’s strong hold. You knew it didn’t seem that way, but Karen packed a wicked punch in those elegant arms of hers. Those self-defense sessions with Frankie boy that she’s been gushing about over the phone must have been finally paying off.

“Once I am done hugging you, I am so kicking your ass,” she breathed out into your hair as she squeezed you harder, as if reading your thoughts. “You’ve been ghosting me for what, a month now?”

You sighed guiltily as Karen pushed you slightly away, keeping her hands on your shoulders. You watched her as she studied your face, a creeping smile stinging at the corners of her mouth.

Grabbing one of her elbows, you groaned dramatically, pulling her towards the busy road. With your hands locked, you finally admitted:

“I did suck at communicating these past couple of weeks. Work’s been…. hectic”, the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but this was the best explanation you’ve been able to come up with so far. “Please don’t kill me”.

Trying to keep up with your power walk, Karen let a bubbling laughter leave her lips.

“You’re not the one who should be worried then,” she gave you one of those bright trademark smiles of hers. “Next time I’m going to interview Russo, I’ll…”

You stuttered at her tirade as you walked, and of course it didn’t go by unnoticed. Karen was the best journalist you have ever met during your prominent career. She just sensed that sort of thing.

“I’m getting this ‘I-meant-to-tell-you-Karen-but-I-didn’t-and-now-you’ll-need-to-fight-it-out-of-me’ vibe”, she gave you a scrutinising look. “Want to maybe share whatever it is you’ve been not telling me before I go full interrogation mode on your plump backside?”

You rolled your eyes as you led her to a terrace-ringed Upper East Side high-rise, waving to the doorman through the glass doors. Jackson, a thirty-five year old ex-military with three kids and a labrador, gave you a brilliant smile as he hurried to open them for you.

“Good evening, Mrs Y/L/N!” He bowed his head in a stiff, very army-like manner. “A package arrived this afternoon for you, should I bring it up?”

From the corner of your eye, you caught Karen looking around, confusion written all over her face. You had a lot to catch up on.

“Don’t worry about it, Jax, just give it to me,” you didn’t mean to urge him, but you couldn’t wait to change out of your corporate attire into some comfortable old pyjamas and crack open a bottle of whiskey - that’s right, some habits did die hard. And to think you were a bubbles-kind of girl a year ago when you met him.

You could feel Karen’s blue eyes drill a hole in the back of your head as you took a small, envelope-sized package from Jackson’s hands.

It wasn’t until you both stepped into the elevator that Karen cleared her throat.

“When you said you’d rather have a girls’ night in, I asked Frank to pick me up from Queens, not from…here,” she spoke, her eyes skimming expensive red wood and mirrors. “Did you finally sleep with Russo and moved in with him?”

Whatever it was that Karen expected you to say to that, it definitely didn’t include you spitting out a roaring laugh, as you nearly dropped the package on the floor.

“Quite the opposite, actually,” you informed her after you finally restored your breath. “I left Anvil. And, well, Russo. At the end of last month”.

—

A half-bottle of whiskey for you and a bottle of white wine for Karen later, both of you were sprawled out on the lambskins thrown over the hardwood floor in your living room. Jazz music was seeping out of the speakers by the TV, a couple of Diptyque candles emitting a soft yellow glow.

You stared at the ceiling of your new living quarters, your mind a blur. As you folded your hands on your stomach, you felt Karen twitch as she bent her elbow and leaned her blond head on the palm of her hand, facing you.

“So let me get this straight,” she paused, narrowing her eyes. “After becoming the Forbes’ hottest CSO, concluding what can easily be described as deals of the century - especially the one with Anthony Stark aka Iron Man and his magnificent goatee…”

Involuntary, you giggled at this. This talk brought out some very dear memories that you wouldn’t trade for the world - the way Billy’s dark eyes shimmered in the dim lights of the opera house as he gave you a look that said you did it, ever the perfect team… Or the way he threw his arms around your frame, his long fingers sliding down your back… You knew you looked good in that dress, but the moment Billy saw you wearing it… You felt like the only girl in the world, the way his jaw dropped a tad, his lips opening up in awe…

Oookay, Y/N, can’t go there, your mind screamed at you as you wiped that dreamy smile off your face. Sitting down, you took your whiskey glass, and washed those memories away with a gulp of amber liquid.

Meanwhile, Karen ranted on.

“…you just quit?!”

She jumped to her feet all of the sudden, brushing her blond hair away from her face as she watched you excitedly.

“Jesus Christ, did Billy make a move?! He made a move on you, didn’t he?”

The urge to facepalm was fierce, almost overpowering, but you managed to resist. Slamming your empty glass against the floor harder than you intended, you gave her a bored look.

“No, Karen, why… Why in the world would you think that?” You sounded just a little short of desperate, so you cleared your throat. “I was his second-in-command, that wouldn’t have been appropriate…”

When you were done studying the flame, dancing within the glass walls of one of the nearby candles, you raised your eyes to meet Karen’s. She wore quite possibly the most blatant look of ‘you are shitting me’ on her face.  

“So you just quit?” she stared at you in disbelief, unblinking. “No explanations provided?”

“This wasn’t how it happened,” you said, hating the fact that you felt like you had to justify yourself. You brought your knees closer, hugging them tightly. “I…”

—

“…I’m here to see William Russo”. 


With a nonchalant gesture, you unbuttoned your Burberry coat, looking at a red-head secretary behind a desk that screamed power and status with every inch of its epic proportions.

Anvil was certainly new money. With all of those hedge funds injecting their cash into emerging companies, there was no shortage of these - entrepreneurial endeavours that didn’t last long.

You didn’t know that at the time, but you were going to make sure this one would.

“My name is Y/N Y/N/L,” you added, perching your sunglasses on top of your head. “He’s expecting me.”

The red-head gave you a polite smile before checking something on her Mac.

“Welcome, Miss Y/N/L,” she almost seemed shy, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before standing up. “Mr Russo is indeed waiting for you. If you would like to follow me, please”.

As the redhead led you through the training grounds, packed with fit men and women that looked like they walked straight outta Gym Shark ad, you did notice a couple of vagrant stares in your direction. You couldn’t blame them. You looked slightly out of place; more Vogue than the setting allowed for.

You quit your job as the COO of a global FinTech company just weeks ago, looking for a new challenge. It was an adventure of a lifetime, and while your ex-executive board had literally begged you to stay, once you’d decided something, no promise of a generous promotion could make you change your mind. While you absolutely loved your job, working for one of the most prominent online payment giants in the world, it felt like it was time for you to step down. Due to all the processes and wise investments you’d initiated, the company could make millions of profits without their CEO having so much as to lift a finger.

And you, well, you lived for the hustle. And that’s exactly what you were here for.

You still had your doubts about Anvil’s owner and acting CEO, though. William “Billy” Russo had already become a household name in the financial circles, albeit the company he was spearheading had little to do with the FinTech space. Some said he had the potential to succeed; others badmouthed him for being ruthless and balancing on the very edge of legal limits.

In short, the man had you intrigued. So the very moment he called and invited you to drop by Anvil to talk strategy, you knew you had to meet him.

See the beast for yourself, so to speak.

The first thing you noticed about William Russo as you walked into his office, spacious and entirely transparent, with its glass walls overlooking the training grounds, was experience, for the lack of a better word. It was etched into his every handsome feature, especially into his scruff strong-willed jaw. As he raised his gaze to meet yours upon the red-head’s announcement, his black eyes swallowing you whole, you realized no light reflected on their surface. There was a certain confidence to him as he raised from his chair, his white shirt straining some over his chest, long dark strands of hair falling onto his long eyelashes. This man meant business, as those black impenetrable eyes zeroed in on yours. He almost seemed too flawless - to spotless to be an ex-marine, stained with blood and murder.

All that Hallmark handsomeness was nothing but a cover.

Before William Russo had even got a chance to open his mouth, you were determined to find out what was lurking underneath.

“Mrs Y/L/N”, the hot-shot gave you a polite smile. “Thank you for coming”.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Russo”, you didn’t move an inch. He may have invited you for interview, but he wasn’t the only one with a long set of demands.

You briefly wondered if he knew that.

Before your thoughts could take you further, William Russo made his way to you, composed and calculated. He stopped by your side, albeit for a moment; rolling the sleeves of his shirt further up, he shot the red-head a charming smile (nothing like the one he gave you).

“Olivia, would you please bring a fresh pot of coffee to the conference room? Mrs Y/L/N and I have a lot to discuss”.

When he turned back to face you, you noted unconsciously that he was taller than you expected, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders. The cool and composed look was back on his face as he motioned towards the doors.

“Would you like to follow me, Mrs…”

“Y/N”, you cut in with a slight raise of your chin. “I’d also prefer to call you William while I tear Anvil’s strategy down”.

His reaction didn’t disappoint. Some tension left his arms, his stung-up body relaxing just enough for a spark of mischief and curiosity flicker its way to his eyes’ surface.

A twinkle of a smile danced across his lips as he bit on the inside of his cheek, nodding ever so slightly in approval.

“It’s Billy”, he said, amusement echoing in his every word. "I don’t expect any leniency, Y/N”.

“Good”, you replied instantly, looking him straight into his eyes. “That’s not what I came here for”.

He nodded again.

And this time, there was liveliness in the quirk of his brow and a touch of insecurity in the corners of his mouth.

Now that was the man you could potentially work with.

—

Working with William Russo was anything but predictable. There were, however, certain patterns to his way of handling things. Whatever the trouble was, Billy was good at seeing the bigger picture - he was usually able to put things into perspective, but there were occasions when he refused to. You dare say that sometimes, you felt like he thought that money didn’t matter - like Anvil’s financial prosperity didn’t matter - as long as his team got not to risk their lives one extra time. You watched him turn down several lucrative deals that you’d busted your ass to put on his table, because it involved sending his men a little too far from home, in a place where he had no strings to pull whatsoever should anything go south. A part of you (the part that wasn’t frustrated as hell) admired him for that - it didn’t, however, stop you from disagreeing with him, time and again.

You may have never been to Iraq, and may have never known the horrors of sleeping with the bombs exploding a mere kilometer away, but you knew a game-changer when you saw it. There were risks involved, there was no arguing about that, but those were calculated, and those kind of deals could make Anvil jump straight to the top of the private military sector overnight.

William and you disagreed.

When William and you disagreed, no voice was raised, no blood was spilt, but Billy usually became distant, cold and just short of snappy when those conversations took place.


He only crossed the line once. 



You were three months into your job as Anvil’s Chief Strategy Officer when Mayhew happened.

The clock on your desk showed midnight as you paced in your office, on the phone with Rex Mayhew, the U.S. Ambassador in Cairo. A cat-and-mouse game between the Egyptian Armed Forces and the nefarious arms dealer group had become common knowledge since a week or so; the U.S. special forces got involved in the conflict when it’d been discovered that the arms were being transported onto American soil. Rex, an old friend from your Yale days, had let you in on the fact that General Richard Ravelin, in charge of the operation, was looking to reinforce his rangs with private military before “neutralising the threat”. This was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, with a potential governmental recognition in play… and Billy wanted to hear nothing of it.

You were exhausted and barely hanging in there; Billy was categorical and stubborn.

You’ve dropped the phone on your table promising Rex you were going to give him an answer in two hours, tops. Taking a deep breath, you walked out of your office, your bare feet thudding on the parquet floors of the corridor. When you reached Billy’s hideout, you found the man leaning against his desk with a glass of whiskey in his unnerved hand.

“Billy…” you spoke firmly, barely stepping through the doorway. “Rex…”

“Can go fuck himself”.

Oh, okay. No sugarcoating this. Alright.

You saw his lips barely touch the amber liquid as he slammed the glass against the surface of his desk.

“I said no, Y/N,” he wasn’t facing you anymore, leaning on his desk with his hands digging into the wood, his back tense. “Please just go home. Have a good night sleep. We will talk about this tomorrow.”

You could have sworn you felt your head starting to fume. This was the third time Billy Russo was shutting you down. For the third time he was making you feel like an incompetent fool when you were trying to do your goddamn job.

Why in hell would he hire you if whatever vision you had for Anvil didn’t match with his own?!

“You could at least say this to my face, Billy,” you spoke a bit harshly before you could stop yourself. “You know, to my tired and disappointed face, with a mouth that you have been shutting up every time it offers you a deal of the century”.

This sounded so much better in your head.  

“Why did you hire me?” you asked almost immediately, trying to soften the impact of the words that had already escaped. “If this isn’t the direction in which you want to take your company, maybe I should just…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/N, just fucking leave already!” Billy snapped like a branch that’s been holding too much weight, the sound of it dry and final.

…maybe I should just rethink the entire plan.  

There was no point in finishing that sentence now, was there?

“I was there long before you came along, so I’d think I know a shitstorm in the making when I see one!” Billy was looking at you alright, brushing his hair back, his eyes black and void.

You had wished It would have been new to you - looking in William Russo’s eyes and not seeing him there. But it wasn’t. He was back to his Hallmark version of a man, but instead of playing a hero, he was now putting on his villain guise.

“Let’s get something straight here,” he leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms on his chest, his black eyes narrowed. “While you were making your way to the top of a rich-ass cookie-cutter FinTech company, I was crawling in the dirt in Iraq under a downpour of the Trident D5LE missiles. While the closest thing you’ve come to havin’ your hands dirty was bribing an investor or two, I was fucking beheadin’ people under the direction of the CIA,” his words were cold, measured and rhythmic, like a round of bullets being fired on a range. “You know nothing of what’s it like to be in the middle of that kind of shit show, princess, so when I fucking say no, you listen. Is that clear?”

Bark. Sit. Roll over.

“Crystal. Sir.”, you finally broke the heavy silence hanging in the air, just barely resisting the urge to salute him. “I’ll see myself out.”

Biting the inside of your cheek like your life depended on it, once you turned your back on him, your first thought was don’t you dare cry on his account, bitch and then almost right away wait at least until you’re home.

You could have sworn you heard William call your name in a stranded voice, but you made sure to slam the door somewhat hard as you left his office so you could pretend you didn’t hear him.

If you were to face him now, with all that power and toughness he exuded… You would never admit it, even to yourself, but you’d just end up on the floor, huddled into a shivering little ball.

—

You were grateful that the next day after the shit went down with Mayhew fell on a Friday. When you stumbled into your apartment in Queens at almost one in the morning, you immediately shot an email to the HR department asking for a day off. Once that’d been done, you dialled Rex to decline his offer to introduce Anvil to general Ravelin, washed the makeup off your face and crawled into bed, hugging the second pillow close to your chest.

You didn’t cry, if that’s what you’re wondering.

As you rolled out of bed in the morning at around 8 am, you took a shower and grabbed a coffee from the kitchen before settling behind your home office desk with a heavy head. When you opened up the Keynote presentation with your strategy outlined for the H1, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the iPhone you left on your couch last night.

You weren’t going to check if you had any missing calls.

There was nothing you had left to say to each other.

…with your chest hollow, you powered up the screen. There were no missed calls and no new messages.

It all looked like you had another strategy to build now. If Billy Russo thought that calling you a rich-ass princess that knew nothing of the world, all butterflies and rainbows, was going to make you resign, then man, was he in for a surprise.

You once heard one of his men compare you to a military convoy, when the guy thought you weren’t listening.

He had no idea.

You spent the morning refilling you coffee cup and rebuilding your H1 plan from scratch. After about eleven calls with the people you knew could get you a foot in the door of the offices of some government officials, billionaires and generals, after typing, deleting and typing again for 5 hours straight, by 2pm you had a solid game plan. You were pretty sure it would still need some tweaking from Castle, who essentially held the role of the Chief Operating Officer, dispatching men and women on missions and planning operations, and, well, from Billy Russo.

The Badass-ex-Sniper-turned-CEO himself.    

You kept the email short and to-the-point, sending the document over to Russo with Castle on copy, saying you’d be in the office to debrief on Monday. 

Refusing to check whether your email’d been opened, you slammed your MacBook shut.

The rest of the day rolled on uneventfully. You grabbed a coffee with the People Culture Officer from your previous company, who also happened to be one of your dearest friends; then you picked up your dry cleaners and did some shopping, cracking for a pair of new shoes in Saks Fifth Avenue.

Shoes were, indeed, your weakness.

By the time you got home, the tired sun was yawning, stretching its rays in one last effort before rolling into bed. Humming a Dua Lipa song under your breath, you were putting your new Jimmy Choo’s away when you suddenly heard your phone ring.

You didn’t even have to look at it to know who it was. 

You checked the time, however, noticing is was two minutes after the official end of the working day.

“Hi, Y/N”, Billy spoke, clearing his throat. “Are you… Um… Any chance you’re available to meet tonight? I would really appreciate it if you could give me fifteen minutes of your time. Please.”

It sounded like the real Billy Russo was back around. Insecure. Rugged. Imperfect.

“Can you pick me up?” you asked softly, “I’ll text you my address. There’s a pizza place just around the corner, I could use a free slice”, you circled the cold coffee cup you left on the counter with your finger. “Free as in you’re paying, Russo”.

A laugh that came somewhere from within caressed your ear.

“Uh, yes, I’m actually… Yeah, thanks. I’m leaving the office now,” even if he tried to hide it, a shocked surprise still seeped through the cracks in between the vowels.

You chuckled silently at his reaction.

“Just one more thing,” you ventured, placing the cup in the sink and making your way to the balcony - your small piece of heaven with a wooden chair, pillows and lavender. As you stepped outside, you put oyour free hand on the railing, just to feel the coolness of it, the evening air and the gentle flower smell stroking your skin. “What kind of car should I be on the lookout for?”

Billy hesitated, biting his bottom lip, running his nervous fingers through the thick strands of dark hair. The setting sun was hitting him just from the right angle, making his sculpted cheeks look like they were made of marble.

“A Rolls Royce Wraith”, he squirmed, rubbing his forehead, probably realising how lame and pretentious it sounded. “I’ll call you once I’m downstairs”.

“Uh-huh”, you smirked, leaning on the railing with your forearms.

You saw Russo pinch the bridge of his nose, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip again. 

Your small balcony provided quite a view, when you really thought about it.

“Don’t take too long”, you couldn’t help it, it really was stronger than you. “I’m starving”.

With a wide grin, you dropped the call and went back into your apartment.

You were planning to make him wait for ten extra minutes when he would finally “arrive”.

Just for the hell of it.

—

“That’s a lot of hot sauce for one pizza”, Billy commented, watching you spray your truffles and cheese generously with the piquant olive oil.

You gave him a mischievous smile.

“What can I say,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and licking the tip of your finger after you swept a drop of it from the top of the bottle. “I like them hot”.

That startled a laugh out of Billy as he eyed you with something in his irises looking a lot like awe.

Just when he was about to speak, a servant brought a glass of red wine for him and bottle of sparkling water for you.

You thanked the guy with a sweet smile, while Billy eyed him a bit coldly, obviously waiting for him to leave.

When the waiter had finally made himself scarce, Billy softly called your name.

You raised your eyes to meet him, struggling as hell to keep your stare vacant. (Which was hard to do with some foreign tightness in your throat).

“Before we dig in and I hope spend a nice evening as two friends, getting together on a Friday night”, he didn’t even blink? Was he blinking? You couldn’t tell, his black eyes swallowing you whole, again. “I want to apologise. I was completely out of line… It was unacceptable. You don’t need my validation, of course, but I still want you to know that you are doing a terrific job at Anvil, taking us to the heights I never even thought existed. It’s just… It’s hard for me sometimes to be a good CEO and someone who promised to take care of my men at the same time… Everything is happening so fast, I’m afraid to lose my footing.”

You reached out for his hand across the table before you could stop yourself. You didn’t take it, but your fingers brushed his ever so slightly before you realized what you were just about to do. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, searching for a reaction. 

Billy remained perfectly still, not taking his eyes off you.

You grabbed a napkin next to his wrist, pretending this was what you had meant to do all along. 

“We’ll get there, Billy”, you said, a small encouraging smile blooming on your lips. “We just need some tweaking”.

You weren’t sure if you were talking about strategy at this point anymore.

—

You had a great time at dinner.

(And a whole-hearted laugh as Billy finished your remainders of the truffle pizza, downing a litre of water to numb down the burning sensation in his throat afterwards).  

You talked about your respective lives, your ex-colleagues, your hopes for the future… You dared think this who the real Billy Russo was.

And he was incredible.

After the two of you were done with dinner, you offered him to come upstairs to your place and go through the new strategy together. He didn’t hesitate, although you could swear you’d seen something ambiguous flash in the depths of his dark eyes before he nodded.

(You must have imagined it.)

The two of you ended up sprawled out on your soft faux fur carpet talking game plan, bouncing ideas off each other. You watched Billy frown, as he rubbed his mouth with his long fingers, smile in excitement and shake his head in awe when you voiced your ideas - you felt proud and appreciated, and you wouldn’t trade the sensation for anything in the world.

A couple of hours later the two of you had finally decided that it was enough brainstorming for one night, and you rose to your feet to go and make Billy a coffee before he got behind the wheel. As you pushed the start button on your coffee machine, you heard him speak over the noise.

“You know I’ve done four tours - three in Iraq and one in Afghanistan”, you popped your head up, only to see him play absentmindedly with something on his chest. “And every time I’m considering a mission for Anvil, I find myself back in there again… A part of a death squad.”

You carefully picked up his cup of coffee and made your way back to him. You didn’t say a word as you leaned lower to hand it over to him, encouraging him to go on. 

Billy thanked you in a whisper before clearing his throat.

“Every time I have to send them somewhere, especially overseas, I force myself to stop and think… Is this really worth it? Is a fat check really worth putting the lives of my men and women in danger? And most importantly - you may think it’s stupid…” he avoided your gaze, staring into his coffee cup, a miserable smile on his lips. “I think, will it make a difference? If one of them dies on a mission, I have to at least know they made a difference… it’s selfish and it’s more about the peace of my own mind, but it is what it is, you know?”

When he looked up at you, his eyes were full, full to the brim. There was so much emotion in them, hatred, misery, hope, adoration, all whipped in a wild mix that was Billy Russo’s dark, velvet eyes.

“I carry these at all times,” the fingers of his free hand dropped to his chest, as he got a hold of something hanging around his neck. A necklace? “When in doubt, I just look at them - they help me remember where I’ve been and what I’ve done - and I just know if it’s worth it or not. The answer is usually no, by the way”.

He smiled again, the curve of his lips looking less haunted this time, as he sipped on his coffee.

Dog tags. Those were Russo’s dog tags.

“So they’re your reminder that, even being a badass CEO of a private military company”, you couldn’t help but feel some kind of zero gravity settling in your lower stomach as you saw him chuckle at your words. “…you still have a heart”.  

“How poetic”, Billy teased you without missing a beat, putting the empty cup on the floor next to him. “But yeah. Sort of, I guess”.

As you fell asleep that night, you dreamed about explosions, piquant olive oil and holding Billy Russo’s dog tags in your hand.

—

The time flew by after that. In 8-month time (after some tweaking) Billy Russo and you became a team. It sometimes felt like nothing could stop you, as long as you were together.

It should not have come as a surprise that the two of you earned yourselves a catchy nickname - at first, it was spoken solely behind your backs, but soon enough it became some kind of a title, more powerful than that of the CEO or the CSO.

Anvil’s men and women (and especially Frank - the fact that he invented the nickname secretly tickled him pink) - were now calling you Bonnie and Clyde. The ultimate partners in crime, against all odds, doing the impossible.

The two of you also settled in an almost homely kind of routine. Ever since that Mayhew fiasco and the day that followed, Friday had become the non-spoken partners in crime day. What it meant in practice was exchanging Friday jokes on Anvil’s internal communications suite…

(Billy once attacked you with a “would you look at this, just found the actual footage of your interview @ Anvil”. Before you even got a chance to answer, he forwarded you a cheesy meme with two old women speaking to each other, one of them saying “We need someone who can do the job of two men”, and the other responding “oh, so it’s only a part-time job then”. When you shot him back a message asking whether he really considered himself an arthritic old woman, that seemed to have shut him up).

…grabbing a beer in a bar nearby…

(you sometimes invited your colleagues to join you, plus it was an unspoken rule that Frank and Karen were to be there as well)  

…you making fun of Billy Russo’s eating habits…

(It was honestly a nuisance to have a lunch with him. The list of things he refused to eat went on and on: no asian food, no food chain restaurants (even high-rated), no soups, no cheesecakes… He sure was settling well in that peaceful life he earned after spending all those tours living off canned food).

…and just overall enjoying each other’s company.

By the time the ninth month of your being Anvil’s CSO had rolled in, you couldn’t imagine not seeing Billy Russo every day. Not noticing him rolling his eyes at a smart-ass comment you or Frank made, or his orbs lighting up every time you told him the deal with that or this decision maker had gone through. You simply could not understand how you managed to live day in and day out, and think you were genuinely happy, before you actually met Billy. Everything before him just faded away somehow, your memories lost their colour and spike in comparison to the life you were living now. You kicked ass at your job, your career thrived, but most importantly, you were feeling like this was exactly where you were meant to be, braving the obstacles by Billy Russo’s side, knowing he would catch you should you fall.

He would, wouldn’t he?

It was your usual Friday night outing, the seven of you - Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis, James from legal, Ashley from mine clearance and yourself - occupying your usual table at Whimsy, the bar that must have made 90% or their revenus off of Anvil’s folk. It was just around the corner from the headquarters, after all.  

The overall mood of the evening was rather nostalgic. It’d been four weeks since you’d lost a team member in a crossfire in Falluja, Iraq. After everything was said and done, his loss still hung heavy in the air, and it felt right to get one more drink in Jasper’s honour. The conversation flowed easily, even though the topics you’d spoken about were anything but.

“I remember how I felt when I lost Andy”, Ashley nursed her beer as she stared into the distance. “I just literally had the weight of the entire world on my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, I just couldn’t move on”, she finished her bottle in one go and motioned for the bartender to bring her another one. “Sometimes, I just ask myself, what would have I done if I’d known he was going to die the next day? Would I have stopped him from going? I think I would,” she thanked the bartender as he put the beer in front of her, her eyes a bit foggy. “Yeah, I definitely would have.”

Frank grasped Ashley’s shoulder and squeezed it hard in a comforting gesture; Karen gave her a tender look.

You didn’t know why your mind had gone there, but all of the sudden a memory of Billy sitting in his office chair, laughing his ass off at some offhand comment you’d made flashed before your eyes; it quickly got replaced by the recollection of his hand brushing against yours during the Zoom meeting you’ve had with general Warren Singer; then you remembered him putting his hand on the small of your back, staring daggers at some army brat wanting to join Anvil, eyeing you like a piece of meat (you learned later that day that the man’d been thrown out before having a chance to introduce himself); until finally, your brain stopped dead at the picture of Billy running his nervous fingers through his hair as he called you from his car, telling you he was only leaving the office.

What would you do if you knew he was going to die tomorrow?  

Your heart sunk at the thought as you gulped hard, ducking your head and staring at your hands folded in your lap.

A soft touch enveloping your elbow had you facing the man of the hour, his black eyes shimmering with concern.

“Are you okay?” he half-whispered, half-mouthed, not letting go of your hand.

No.

Nothing is okay, Billy.

I’m so happy that I met you, but you’re scaring the hell out of me.

I never wanted any form of eternity until now, I never saw the point…

So stay. Please, stay forever, and feel something for me, too.

“Yes. I’m fine,” you whispered back, staring into his eyes, hypnotised and helpless. You watched him turn away from you as if in slow motion, the warmth of his hand leaving nothing behind but emptiness in your bones.

“Here is to always telling the things that matter to the people who matter”, Billy spoke firmly, raising his beer. “Here’s to never missing a chance to open up to the people we love”.

Well, if this was his way of crossing the t's and putting the dots to the i’s regarding his feelings for you, he couldn’t have been clearer. 


As far as confessions of love went, this one was non-existent.

—

You tried, time and again, to convince yourself you had to go. You learned the hard way that your unrequited feelings were feeding on a sort of inadvertent parasitic relationship where every moment of your day depended on the level of Billy’s unintentional emotional indifference. Your days were spent questioning his every move - every look and every touch; until, the grown-ass woman that you were, you’d commanded yourself to stop second-guessing everything - stop feeling - and decided your best course of action would be… to work yourself into the ground.

If Billy ever noticed anything, he didn’t show it - your were still you, after all, working hard, laughing when he said something funny, calling him out on his bullshit when needed. He didn’t notice slight change in your eyes, when their icy surface cracked at every other compliment he threw in your direction (and there was no shortage of those). He didn’t realize the smile you gave him was different from those tightlipped signs of appreciation you gave to Anvil’s potential clients, he didn’t think twice about the reason for which you glowed around him, your every move softening, your every gesture emanating warmth.

Because Billy hadn’t really known you until you started to have feelings for him.

You knew this couldn’t go on forever. This entire situation was bound to result in some explosion of nuclear proportions, and then all hell would break loose. You needed to get yourself out of this situations, but you just… couldn’t. You couldn’t imagine your life without Billy Russo. You couldn’t leave him.

Even if being friends with him meant tearing yourself apart and suffering in silence. 



Long story short, you waited with fear in your bones for someone to walk into your life and to get you out. You’ve had no fight left in you to do it yourself.

Your salvation came in the form of a phone call on a Friday evening, when Billy was on a recruiting mission in California.

You were typing back a response to his cheeky message when the call cut in half-sentence.

Billy Russo: Please remind me to take you with me instead of Frank next time? He’s driving me insane trying to set me up with the ladies from the Organising Committee. Any ideas on how I can calm him the fuck down?

You: Sorry, Billy, but recruiting is out of my mission scope. As for the calm down part, try bondage maybe? :)

Billy Russo: I’m going to pretend you did not just suggest I engage in sexual practices with Frankie. Karen will have my balls.  

Billy Russo: But perhaps you’re right. Taking you with me is probably not a good idea. Wouldn’t want my new recruits’ brains to turn into mush because of how beautiful you are.

You: The flattery will….

“Hello? Y/N speaking”, you brought your phone close to your ear, your cheeks still a lovely shade of pink. If you were going to feel miserable when Billy came back, acting like nothing happened, you were sure going to make the best of that fuzzy feeling in your chest right now.

“Miss Y/N/L”, a smooth deep voice greeted you, and you could have sworn you’d heard it many times before. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”

Frowning in an attempt to remember, you urged:

“No, not at all. How can I help you?” you stared into the screen of your Mac, wheels turning in your head as you silently catalogued all the men you were in discussions with regarding a deal. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Oh, how rude of me”, the man chuckled but there was no mockery in his voice, more like self-depreciation. “Tony Stark, from Stark Industries”.

Your mind went blank. Did you hear his last words correctly?

“Uh… Mr. Stark”, you quickly got a hold of yourself - well, as quickly as you could. “I appreciate you reaching out to me directly. What can Anvil do for you?”

You did a pretty bang-up job trying to mask your amazement with polite cheerfulness, and Stark had caught on that.

Tony Stark just called your cellphone number. What in the world?…

“We don’t really do alien invasions”.

Ohyourgod, did you just say it out loud?!

His uproarious laughter took you by surprise, reverberating through your entire body. It took every ounce of your self-control not to giggle in response.

“That’s a good one, I love it”, Stark finally said, restoring his breath. “And the better question would be, Y/N - can I call you Y/N? - what you can do for me”.

Before your brain could take you into some naughty direction, freaking Iron Man cleared his throat.

“Okay, this came out wrong,” he admitted with a sense of self-irony. “I um… I’m looking for the Co-Chief Executive Officer for Stark Industries. Well, Virginia Potts is actually looking for a Co-CEO, I’m just her errand boy. And my missions apparently include recruiting…. Anyway,” it was a bit of a challenge to follow Anthony Stark’s train of thought, but you were also still shocked, so that could explain it. “…I think you are the perfect fit for the job”.

You just stared into the screen front of you, your breathing barely audible.

“Mrs Potts and I would love it if you could swing by the A-Tower, let’s say, on Thursday? You’ll be surprised, but I can also whip up a mean cup of coffee…”

Say something.

Fucking hell.

Say something!…

“Thursday sounds great,” you blurted out without thinking. “Let me just shuffle my schedule around… I could stop by after lunch?”

 Your hands were slightly shaking as you clicked on your mouse, opening your schedule window.

“Whatever works for you, Y/N”, you could hear Stark smile. “Not to sound like a creep, but I’ve been following your career for quite a while now, and I think that the work you've done in such a short span of time for Anvil is outstanding, even though you still don’t offer protection from alien invasions”.

That made you chuckle, pushing you halfway out of your stupor.

“I’ll put that on the list of things for us to consider”, you promised.

"Tell Mr. Russo I sent my best,” Stark added, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “I actually might have some ideas for how we could collaborate. Let's discuss this on Thursday, too, shall we?”

After you said your goodbyes, you fell back in your chair, dropping your iPhone on the table.

You: The flattery will….

...get you nowhere.

You never finished that message, leaving Russo on Read.

—

Starting with that evening, things were moving fast - too fast for you to keep track.

After a three-hour long coffee and the tour of the A-Tower, Virginia Potts, the acting CEO of the Stark Industries, had offered you the job - just like that - and asked you to come back to her executive assistant should you wish to take the job, with your salary expectations and the information about your notice period. You thanked her for her time and promised to get back to her as soon as you made your decision.

Virginia Potts was a brilliant woman; but running a company like Stark Industries while being equipped with a vagina was certainly no walk in the park. Sexism was still very much present within the Boards of the Tech Businesses. You understood perfectly well why she wanted a woman in her corner - it would have been a massive slap in the Board’s face, but it was also about having someone to lean on, who just understood.

In any other circumstances you would have peed your pants in excitement. It was an opportunity to work for Stark Industries - no, scratch that - it was an opportunity to step in as a Stark Industries co-CEO. The idea of it still made you dizzy.

…but as you looked at Virginia’s email sent to your personal address thanking you for stopping by, your eyes were swimming with tears.

You weren’t ready to leave Billy. 
You just couldn’t. 
You couldn’t leave him. 

There was no epic finale to your story. There was no big revelation, no closure, no moment of relief, no acceptance, nothing. Only a fat-ass what if.

And you didn’t know how to let go of a what if with Billy Russo.

And that was exactly why you had to do it.

You heard Billy come in the next Monday earlier than usual. He was positively humming Usher’s Yeah! quietly as he made his way past your office’s doors straight into his own.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’ve been psyching yourself up during the entire weekend, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal, we wouldn’t even flinch when you were going to tell him.

You had to tell him.

As you stood up from your chair, straightening you skirt with the palms of your hands, you suddenly heard the footsteps coming back in your direction. You froze in place like a deer in headlights when Billy swung open the door to your office, a box of Pierre Hermé macarons in his hands.

Your goddamn favorite Pierre Hermé macarons.

“You’re here!” Billy’s warm smile illuminated the room. “So much for a surprise, huh?”

He shook the box carefully in the air. You stared at it, dumbfounded, every single thought leaving you.

You couldn’t breathe.

In the hazy morning light seeping through the windows of your office, Billy looked beautiful and dissolute, shirt open at the collar, longer strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.

He was going to be the death of you. It really wasn’t fair.

“Billy, I have to tell you something.”

Was it you who spoke those words? They seemed distant and cold, so uncharacteristically detached.

Blood roared in your ears.

“What’s wrong?”

Billy’s reaction was instant. In three decisive steps he closed the distance that separated you, leaving the macarons on your desk. He stood still just mere inches away, and just like during your very first meeting, you had a fleeting thought cross your mind: you really were tiny next to him, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders.

You bit the inside of your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure. He stared at you unblinking. He wasn’t touching you, but it felt like his eyes were looking straight into your soul, undressing you, blowing that wall you built around yourself into dust. They were taking you down, piece by piece, determined to see what you’d been keeping from him. 

Because, of course, he knew. He should have known something was going on. Hence the surprise this morning.

He had no idea what it was though.

“Maybe you should sit,” you said, making a physical effort to tear your eyes away from him, feigning sudden interest in the buttons of his shirt.



That chest…



…was going to be just fine. He didn’t feel the same way you did. He would just find someone else to fill your position. With brilliant women stalking him - in cooperative packs - that would not be a problem.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you”.

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as his words reached your ears.

Fucking hell, you should have done that by phone. Or with other people around. You should have…

“You’re leaving”, you heard Billy repeat as his voice broke a little. He stepped away, burying his face in his hands as he dragged them down his jaw and neck, staring into the ceiling.

“Billy, listen, I…”

You were the one to close the space between the two of you this time, and before you could think too much into it… You threw your hands around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

The sensation struck you like a bolt of lightening when you felt his hands cross behind you back and pull you closer.

He smelled heavenly. Like a forest fire, a hint of smoke with oud and pine. You inhaled deep, deeper still, losing yourself in his comforting touch.

In his arms, just for a second there, you felt home.

“You… The company doesn’t need me anymore”, you nearly choked on words, screaming internally at yourself to keep the waterworks at bay. “It’s thriving, there’s not much else I can give you. My job here is done.”

I need to leave because your indifference is destroying me, and when I think I’m ready to let go, all it takes is one look from you, and I’m back to wanting you, to settling for anything you give me, like a goddamn fool.

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?!” Billy exclaimed, his hands grasping your shoulders as he distanced your bodies just enough for him to look into your eyes. “I nee- The company needs you! I was… You know, I was planning to make you the CEO of Anvil in a couple months time,” his smile, as earnest as it was, did not reach his eyes. “Yeah”, noticing your eyes go wide in shock,  he let his hands slide down your sides. “You’re so much better at it than I ever was. I was going to join Frank and just manage operations… under you”.

You just stared at him, dumbfounded, not feeling a stray tear escape your eye and rolling down your cheekbone.

“These are the tears of happiness, I hope”, Billy added, and you barely registered his touch as his thumb wiped the salty drop off. “Well, I guess Anvil will have to settle for the little old me. With my best girl going places."

You gave him a strained smile before you carefully wiped your cheeks, just taking a moment to look at him. To try and read him.

Billy Russo was a goddamn ceiling. Plain white, cool and unattainable. In all of your time working for him, you have never seen this Hallmark version of him before. Which one was it? 


Oh wait, you guessed you knew. The happy-for-you friend.

“So where are you going?” Billy asked, his eyes empty. “Who snatched you away from m- Anvil?”

The stutter was so subtle you barely noticed. You were finally tired of reading into shit.

“Stark Industries. I’ll be their co-CEO”.

—

Before you left Anvil you promised yourself you’d get the deal with Stark Industries up and running. There was no one in the world you trusted more in terms of security than Billy.

(The fact that you couldn’t keep your heart safe from him didn’t really count, did it?)

As a matter of fact, Billy and you were going to shake hands with Anthony Stark on the deal on your last night of being Anvil’s CSO. It was happening in The Metropolitan Opera and required both Billy and yourself to dress for the occasion. 

He promised to come pick you up at 6pm sharp; you were putting on the Jimmy Choo’s you’d bought a coulee months ago in Saks Fifth Avenue when you heard a low knock on your door.

Straightening up, you threw a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. You decided to go with a long Marchesa black velvet gown with a rather deep V-line, a pair of long diamond earrings and an elegant half-up half-down hairdo, soft curls in the front framing your face.

“I’m coming”, you yelled out, picking up your leather jacket (because why the hell not) and your purse from the kitchen counter. Sharply opening the entrance door, you realized moments later that you didn’t even take time to prepare yourself for seeing William Russo in a tux.

If you weren’t already half in love with him, the sight before your eyes would have sealed the deal.

God-fucking-damn, like he needed any help being unforgettable.

With a black jacket thrown on a crisp white shirt with a couple of buttons undone and the tie hanging loosely around his neck, Billy was here to make a statement, to leave a mark. His hair was coiffed back in his usual style; honest to God, he looked like he just stepped out of the Man of the Year special GQ edition…

Just when your thoughts were about to switch to the way you must have looked next to him, ridiculous in your simplicity, like you refused to make an effort…

…Your eyes met his.

And the way he looked at you was so intense, his big black eyes with galaxies in them probing into yours, his strong jaw slack. There was beauty and tragedy reflecting in those orbs, but only just for a second - just for a second, he looked at you the way he probably looked at the sky he could never reach. Just for a second, he looked at you the way that made your heart beat twice as fast, like the world could crumble all around him and he still would not have blinked.

Would not have taken his eyes off you.

“Wow, Y/N, you look… You look beautiful”, he finally said. “I just can't spot a part of you that beats the other.”

Something in your chest exploded silently.

“Thank you, Billy,” you smiled at him - a genuine and happy smile, because you felt on top of the world with his adoring eyes on you. “You’re quite a catch yourself”.

Before you could scold yourself for your choice of words, you stepped out of your apartment and locked the door behind you.

“Shall we?” Billy offered his hand to you, without hesitation it seemed.

“We shall”, you replied instantly, slowly sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow.

And, just like always, you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

—

The crowd in the opera was so posh, the looks all the women had been throwing you first made you question your choice of outfit. It’s after overhearing their conversations that you realized, the reason they stared daggers at you was the man that kept by your side no matter where you went.

Virginia and Anthony welcomed you at the buffet with sun-stained sincere smiles. After a short small talk, Anthony Stark informed you both that he had signed the contract earlier today, thus officially giving Anvil an exclusive security deal with Stark Industries. As of now, Anvil was the only company allowed on the Stark Industries’ premises in the quality of guards and protection officers.

The look Billy and you exchanged spoke volumes; while your eyes were sparkling with excitement though, screaming “we did it!!”, his bottomless black eyes were whispering “thanks to you”.

The four of you then shook hands and went through rounds of gratitude and appreciation; when a pleasant woman’s voice announced the imminent start of Onegin, inviting the guests to go to their seats. Virginia immediately took you hand, leading you straight into the Opera house, saying something about leaving men to finish their drinks. You threw Billy a laughing look over your shoulder, mouthing “come join me” before disappearing out of his sight.

“So on the scale of one to ten, how pissed at me are you, Mr. Russo?”

Billy turned his head sharply to a side, leaning on the high table, and spotted Anthony Stark himself, nursing a glass of whiskey. “For taking your queen away from you? Excuse the chess metaphor, but that woman”, Stark took a sip of his whiskey and savoured it before swallowing it down. “Is a goddamn queen.”

Billy chuckled, straightening up, digging his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“That, she is,” he whispered, his eyes still piercing the spot in the crowd where your smiling face was mere minutes ago.

—

When the opera ended, both Billy and you couldn’t be more relieved - because both of you hated it with passion.

Exchanging meaningful glances in the dark during the singers’ performances now and then, you had to bite your tongue in order to not just ask Billy if you could maybe sneak out. Russo proved to be more stoic than you, carefully covering your hand with his in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You didn’t look at him once after that, afraid to say or do something that would make him remove his hand.

How much more pathetic could you get?  

When the performance was over, Billy led you out of the opera house without saying a word, his hand hugging carefully the small of your back.

His silence was unnerving. You didn’t know what to make of it. Should you have shaken his hand off back in the darkness of the concert hall? Or should you have caressed it with your thumb?

Your mind was spinning in circles by the time he opened the door for you and you slid into the front passenger seat of his Rolls goddamn Royce.

When he got in the car and gripped his steering wheel, you reached out and placed your hand on his whitening knuckles.

“Billy,” you spoke softly, barely audibly. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” he whispered back, turning his head to a side to face you. His black eyes stared into yours, looking hypnotised and helpless. “Everything is fine.”

It didn’t take a degree in Psychology to see that he was lying. You could feel his gaze on you as you turned away from him, taking your hand away at the same time.

Billy started the car. The revving engine filled the silence, loaded with the unsaid words.

—

“…he then walked me to my door, we exchanged our goodbyes. And that was it,” you finished lightly, looking back at Karen.

Her eyes were red as she stared at you, unblinking.

“Unbelievable…” she whispered. “So you never told him?…” her lips barely moved.

You sighed.

“Have you ever felt like you’re potentially in love with someone? Like, you don’t actually love him, you know you don’t, but one day you realise that you could? You realise just how easy it would be for you to fall in love with him? With all the teasing and the banter, the play hitting each other, calling each other names, just…. You start to pick up on little things - like if you listen closely, in every shut up, there’s a barely-there ring of I could love you.”

You shifted on the floor a little, and Karen watched your memories transport you somewhere else again. While physically your were here, in your apartment - with your fluttering eye-lashes, uneven breathing and loaded expression - mentally, you were somewhere else.

“….You probably don’t notice it at first, but your body is drawn to him. Every accidental or absentminded touch…” you continued quietly. “And there’s that twinkle in his eyes when he looks at you and it messes you up, because - what’s going on with you? What the hell does it even mean? Are you imagining shit? You’re trying to make sense.”



Karen didn’t interrupt, still staring at you as if she were seeing you for the first time

“I mean, he didn’t ask for any of it, you know?” you finally raised your foggy stare at Karen, as if searching for confirmation. “Maybe he just did something dumb one day, smiled at you or said something that seemed important and then all of the sudden you’re full on Looney Tunes, seeing stuff that isn’t there?”

Your words barely audible, you swallowed hard, before continuing.

“…I just kept looking at him with what ifs, and could haves, seeing all that goddamn potential. It’s so fucking twisted. Over-analyzing everything? Waiting for a sign?…” you chuckled bitterly all of the sudden. “…I was so fucking scared of reading too much into it, of crossing that line, because… It would be so easy!… Falling in love with him would have been so easy.”

Oh sweetheart, Karen’s eyes glowed with comfort as she reached out for your hand and squeezed it softly. But you already are in love with him. 



A loaded silence ripped through the air in your living room. The sound of an engine revving somewhere close squeezed its way through the slit of an opened window, and it seemed to break the trance.

Both Karen and you shuddered, and as you took in the realisation Karen’s eyes just bestowed upon you, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“It’s pretty late,” Karen spoke up, reading you like an open book. She knew it was her cue to leave the stage. You needed time to process. “Frank is in a bar nearby with Curtis, let me just give him a call, okay, sweetheart?” she gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze. “You know where to find me when you need me”.

“Yes”, you responded, blinking tiredly. “Thank you so much for coming, Karen. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that…”

“Shut the hell up,” the blonde advised, raising her eyebrows. “But honestly, Y/N, please call me once you… come to terms with things, okay?”

You nodded.

When Karen left, leaving the sweet and pleasant smell of her perfume behind, you closed the door behind her and turned around, leaning on the cold wood and metal with your eyes closed.  

It’s been a month. This was supposed to pass by now. Billy was supposed to stop inviting himself into your dreams. You were supposed to heal.

You may have just realized you were in love with the man instead.

Letting out half a moan, half a groan, you peeled yourself from the door slowly, and brushed your hair back, wanting nothing more than to fall face-first into bed.

After you at least cleaned up a bit and put out the Dyptique candles, that is.

As your eyes scanned your living room in an attempt to asses the size of the job at hand, you stopped mid-way, zeroing in on the box Jax gave you earlier in the evening. It rested silently on the kitchen table.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you made your way to the kitchen area. Grabbing the package, you turned it around, looking for any indication of the sender.

The package wasn’t even stamped.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you took a moment to grab a knife from one of the drawers, and carefully swished it between the two cardboard sheets.

Flipping over the envelop, you heard something fall out of it before you could actually see it. A small sheet of paper floated in the air before falling on the surface, partially covering whatever fell out of the package.

Your heart squeezed the second your brain identified the object, attached to a worn silver chain.

With trembling fingers, you slid two metal pieces from under the paper, covering your mouth.

Finding their home in the palm of your hand, Billy’s dog tags shimmered in the dim candlelight.

Squeezing them in between your fingers, you grabbed the paper with your free hand, your eyes staring at one single sentence scribbled on its surface.

“You took my heart with you”.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[bcdwhcre]

hiii hope your having an amazing day :) do you make headcanons? if you do and if you don't mind can i request headcanons for Izuku, Bakugo, and Denki about being in a secret relationship (i really love your stories about characters being in a secret relationship) and them accidentally outing their relationship because something happened (you can choose what happened) thank you so much!! also if you dont do headcanons you can choose one from the three on the imagine ❤️ I'm sorry if this is confusing 😅

“Secret Relationships,” Midoriya, Bakugou and Denki headcanon

YES IM GLAD YOU REQUESTED THIS UGH, I gotta do my sweet baby Bakugou first🥺

Summary: having a secret relationship with one of the guys and it’s get leaked.

Each section would probably be a little short, I apologize in advance🥺

Warnings: none!

.

.

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Bakugou:

The relationship between you and Bakugou was always strange but once the students had to move on campus in the dorms, it turned into a whole different story.

The secret meetups late at night in his room, turned into nothing more than a secret relationship. The way your sleep schedule was beyond screwed up from being up late in his room and having to wake up early to go back to your room before anyone noticed.

It had been going on for months so by now you were used to the secrets and sneaking around along with barely having any sleep the next day while in class.

The more the relationship progressed, the more Bakugou would steal quick glances at you and even when you were in the kitchen with the other students, he would purposely slide behind you and touching your back in the process.

One day in particular, the class had decided to have a game night and he wasn’t too thrilled about joining in. He had tried to convince you to come back to his room but you had told him it would make things obvious if only the two of you were absent.

He huffed, at this point he didn’t really care about the class nor their opinions on anything. He was a ball of fire afterall so when he saw you sitting with the class as they gathered up board games, he was over with keeping things a secret, he wanted it to be known that you were his and he wanted you upstairs in his room.

“I don’t wanna play this stupid game night.” Bakugou said in front of everyone but he was directing it towards you and you tried to ignore him.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to be here dude.” Kirishima patted his back, sitting down at the table and he huffed out a breath dramatically, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m not talking to any of you idiots.. Y/N.” He said your name sternly, like he was giving you a direct order by the look of his red eyes.

“Why are you so worried about Y/N being here with us?” One of the classmates mentioned and you had cursed under your breath, Bakugou was acting like a child.

“Because I want my girlfriend upstairs with me.” Bakugou angrily said, everyone growing quiet and you had gulped the lump in your throat, well there goes the secret.

Everyone’s eyes had landed on you and your cheeks turned a dark shade of red before you slide the chair back and stood up. You have never felt this embarasssed in your life, he could’ve done this any other time in a completely different way but of course the asshole had to make everything a big deal.

“No way,” Denki mumbled, trying to hold the laugh that was begging to come out.

You dismissed yourself, walking over to where Bakugou was and punched his arm as hard as you could, cursing under your breath and he smirked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders, winking back at the rest of the class.

“God, you’re so fucking embarrassing, Katsuki.” You muttered, following him to the elevator to go up and he tugged you closer.

“Oh shut up, you love it.”

As you two waited for the elevator, you couldn’t help the feel the classes eyes on the both of you. It was even more humiliating as you had to wait for the doors to slide open. You heard a few of them whisper about you two being a thing, some had mentioned how obvious it was and some mentioned had you two were complete opposites.

Bakugou obviously didn’t care, instead he liked to annoy everyone, especially you. So hearing people whisper about had fed onto the asshole ego he had, making his large hand grab your chin and give you a rough kiss on the lips in front of everyone.

The way your face was completely red at this point and all he did was give the classmates a evil grin before dragging you into the elevator and pushing the button for his floor.

“Why can’t you ever be casual?”

“Do you not know me? I’m far from casual.” He nudged you gently, laughing at your tomato red face and moved his thumb to brush across your cheek.

“Yeah, clearly.”

.

.

Denki:

You had a crush on Denki for what seemed like forever. Since the first moment you met him on the first day of school till now. It was pretty obvious how much you liked him. Eventually you became bold enough to ask him to hang out.

Now you two have been dating for only a few weeks, you both had agreed to keep it private to enjoy the privacy and the time alone before the classmates end up finding out.

Of course you knew Denki a little too well at this point, you knew he would end up slipping up the secret sooner or later but it didn’t entirely bother you that it’ll happen.

And you were right, after a training exercise and having to go through some obstacle course that Aizawa had set up, he had sparked a fuse and as his brain suffered a shortage, his mouth had instantly opened and talked about you.

You couldn’t help but be over protective when he did go through that shortage phase, quickly taking care of him and making sure he was comfortable was a habit you picked up.

“So pretty.” He muttered as he reached for you in front of everyone and you froze in your place until he had wrapped his arms around you, clinging onto your body.

Your cheeks flushed, grabbing onto his body and holding him up straight so he didn’t lose his balance. He continued to mutter words like how you’re so pretty and he even slipped up how he was lucky to have you.

“Aww, Denki is in love.” Sero had laughed at his state, making you roll your eyes and become more protective.

“Nothing wrong with that.” You admitted, stroking your fingers through his hair and dragged him over to sit down.

His head had rested on top of yours, his tall frame giving you a tight hug and you had choked on the air you were breathing on from how openly clingy he was acting in front of the entire class including Mr. Aizawa.

“Is there something you’re not telling us?” Midoriya had teased, the smirk on his face made you grow embarrassed.

“No.”

“Yes, we are.” Denki cut you off, his arms still around yours and the goofy smile on his face only got bigger.

“Y/N is mine. Only mine, I don’t want to see- I don’t want to see any of you near... what’s mine.” He managed to stumble out, his face turning blank like he had forgotten what he was talking about.

“Jesus,” You laughed, putting your hand over his mouth, glancing at your classmates.

You stayed quiet, dragging him away from the rest of the class and forced him to drink some water and sit down on a chair to relax until he went back to his normal state.

You will admit that he was cute and the way he openly told everyone what was his, which was you, had made your heart flutter.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Denki.”

“Am I?”

.

.

.

Midoriya:

It had taken forever for Izuku to catch onto your hints on liking him and wanting to hang out with him more. Of course he was very oblivious and didn’t catch on for weeks, even months before you got frustrated and had been straight forward with him.

The both of you being completely shy balls made everything a lot more difficult, the hints he threw at you and the hints your threw at him had completely flew over both of your heads, it was quite ridiculous.

You knew Midoriya wasn’t going to make the first move, you knew he was too big of a anxiety nut to even be bold enough to tell you to your face that he likes you in ways that was more than friends. So you did it on your own.

It hadn’t even been a week of you two officially dating until Izuku slipped it up to Todoroki when ranting about how amazing you were and how much he loved watching your quirk in action.

Once he had revealed the secret, he had told Todoroki to keep his mouth shut and not talk about it again but later that day, Izuku slipped up to another one of your classmates, Ashido.

It wasn’t long until he had slipped up to the whole entire class and now everyone knew that you two were a fresh couple. The side comments the students would make to you both and embarrass the both you, making the shyness in you two grow and cause you to stutter to no end.

“I think you two are cute!” Ashido had mentioned, trying to assure you that it wasn’t a big deal that everyone already knew.

“You knew Midoriya can’t keep a secret for long.” She commented, making you laugh and agree to what she said.

You couldn’t blame him though, he was a little too excited to be dating his crush that he couldn’t help but talk about you constantly to all his friends. He couldn’t help but stare at you and want to talk about how pretty you are and the characteristics he liked most about you.

It was in his nature, he was proud and lucky that he just had that urge to tell the whole world about you and it made butterflies explode in your stomach and it also made you want to kiss him desperately but you decided to not do that in front of everyone.

“I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want to tell anyone right away.” He mumbled towards you, the look of guilt washing over his features and you shook your head, embracing him in a tight hug.

“Don’t be sorry! I’m glad you told people.”

.

.

,

ANNND finished, I’m sorry it’s short. I usually go longer when it’s one character at a time but I hope it’s good🤧

PLSSSS send in more my hero requests!! I’m obsessed

• Main Masterlist •

• MHA Masterlist •

[thekillingmoonmoon]

LOVE SONG

Part One | Masterlist

Pairing: Toji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, fingering (f receiving), discussion of violence, alcohol, swearing, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Synopsis: After a mission gone back, you and Toji finally cross the line.

Length: 6k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“Hey, pest, I’m gonna go,” Toji started, the clink of his glass on the bar top crashing you back into reality. “Oh sure,” you swung your head up to look at him, “travel safe.” You tried to turn back to your drink, only Toji’s hand caged your chin into place. “Are you crying?” his top lip lifted from his teeth, narrow brows brought down into a low frown over his eyes. You blinked, and touched your face. “Oh. I must be,” you wiped at your eyes, and squinted at the smudged black of your makeup on your hands. “Hmm,” Toji settled himself back down beside you, “where you heading after this?” You took a long sip of your own drink, barely wincing at the gasoline burn down your throat. You rested your head in your hand and thought, bouncing your crossed legs against Toji’s calf.

“Fuck me if I know, old man. Not home,” you sighed deeply, before looking down at your outfit, “might as well go out, make the most of the dress before Boss wants it back,” you ran a finger along the hem of the little black number, its skirt clinging to the top of your thighs in a series of silken bands that wrapped themselves up your body, not leaving a single curve or dip untouched. Toji crinkled his nose at you, confused. You gave your partner what you hoped to be a cheeky smirk, despite the roaring pain in your chest, “It means that I’m gonna wear the dress out, purely to get someone to undress me, yeah?” Toji quirked an eyebrow up at you, the ends of his mouth settling downward, “Oh, gotcha,” he threw his standard response at you, and continued, “but I don’t think you’re gonna win tonight, pest.” You frowned at him, “Don’t be mean, Fushiguro. I might not be your type, but I am some drunk idiot’s lucky day,” you threw back the last of your drink and made to leave. You weren’t strong enough for this. For his teasing. Not after today. Now, all you wanted was a passable fuck with a complete stranger, and the slight chance that it would wipe today clean from your memories. It was really a pity you couldn’t get drunk, or high. Your metabolism was too strong. So, your only solution for oblivion was sex. So sex you would get.

“Hold on, hold on, woman,” Toji wrapped a wide hand over your shoulder and pushed you back onto your stool, “you’re really gonna go out like that?” “Jesus, old man, the dress isn’t too short – most wear even less out. Now, are you gonna let me go and get laid, or are you gonna stop me? Cos you better have a damn good reason for getting between me and forgetting this fucking day,” you huffed, and froze when Toji reached out to wipe his thumb over your cheek. “Cos you’re still crying, dumbass. I dunno about other guys, but the only time I like to see a girl cry during sex is when she’s begging for my dick, and that definitely isn’t what’s got you sobbing like a kid. Come on. Flat’s close, and I got a bottle of decent drink.” Toji peeled a couple of notes from his pocket and slid it under your glass, effectively paying for both of your drinks then standing up to leave.

He held out a hand, giving you a hard stare when you hesitated to take it. Finally, you slipped your palm into his, accepting his offer and getting off your stool. Toji saluted to the barkeep, who seemed to know him. Strange. You hadn’t been here with him. But then again, the pair of you often went drinking in the same neighbourhood as your flat, the night ending with Toji taking over the couch and you crashing into bed. Not drunk. Never drunk. Just tired. Of fighting. Of jujutsu. Of the world in general.

Tonight you were more than tired with the world. You were the closest you’d been to heartbreak since your dad had passed, the terrified eyes of those kids flickering behind your eyes every time you closed them. You paused at the narrow entrance to the bar, stretching out your arms and ribcage as you drank in the night air. You breathed deeply, and the confines of your dress refused to help fill your lungs with the stench of beer and piss, the stink of motorbike fumes and cigarette smoke. A weight blanketed your shoulders. His jacket. You fingered the worn denim of the old jacket, asking Toji what his game was out the corner of your eyes. He shrugged and you wrapped the jacket around yourself. You couldn’t even see the end of your dress, the hem creeping up the curve of your ass as you walked. You were glad you’d chosen low heels for the mission, else by now you’d be asking Toji to carry you. You weren’t in the mood for that kind of teasing tonight. You weren’t in the mood for anything.

The pair of you walked in time down the main street of Toji’s district, the world between you silent except for the hum of the city around you. Until, “You know the code, pest.” “You only save when it pays. I know your code, Fushiguro,” you grumped. Toji clicked his tongue at you, “It’s code cos it works. You can’t get attached to the job. No feelings, no screwups.” “No morals,” you hissed below your breath. Your back stopped mere millimetres from the brick wall beside you, strong hands gripping your shoulders and Toji’s face just a breath away from yours. Green eyes glared you down, Toji’s massive frame dwarfing you in his anger. “Listen, pest. You chose the job, you chose this life. The blood, the killing, all of it. Or did you think it was just exorcisms and sniper-hits, nobody’s life in those bloody little hands of yours?” Toji growled, teeth clenched. His knuckles were white with how tightly he held you. You shook your head, “Fuck off, old man. You know that I’m as serious as you are. Forgive me for actually being fucking human for once,” you spat back, face crumpled. You could actually feel your tears flow now, hot and heavy down your cheeks, dragging your mascara down in black streaks, your lips twisted, “I’m just grateful I still have fucking emotions, unlike you.” The words felt like pure poison, darts lodging themselves deep into Fushiguro’s skin. “What did you say, woman? You think I don’t have emotions?” “Well besides rage, you’re pretty fucking heartless, Fushiguro. How many people did we see die today? A hundred? Two hundred? All of them below twenty-five, they were just fucking kids, and we just let it happen, and you pull the code on me?!” You almost breathed fire at this point, your lip curled in an ugly sneer as you yelled through your tears. Toji’s chest rose and fell in heavy gasps, and you watched his face tighten as you spoke. “Heartless? Fucking heartless? Then what do you call this, sweetheart?” he grabbed your hand and placed it palm down on his chest, over his heart. Your fingers tremored at the thud of blood pulsing through the organ, his heartbeat hard and fast and frantic, “I use the code because what else can I do, huh? Fuck,” he stepped away from you and pinched the bridge of his nose, “most of those kids were your age, and yeah, we had to fucking walk away. The job wasn’t to save them, but don’t think it wasn’t one of the worst seconds of my life when I had to choose – our lives, or theirs.” He walked a few paces down, watching as you crouched around yourself. “Thank you,” you mumbled, half to the sidewalk. Toji flinched, “Hah?” You laid your head on your knees and looked at him, “I said ‘thank you.’ You saved us back then. I owe you my life, again.” You blew at a stray piece of hair. “Yeah, yeah. Now we’re even from that fuck-up in Kyoto,” Toji tucked his hands into his pockets before scowling at you, “But that isn’t the point, sweetheart. The point is today was a goddamn disaster. Nearly Plasma fucking Star level disaster. And it’s okay to get angry. Hell, I think it’s better. But you aren’t angry, are you?” he leaned against a sputtering streetlamp, an Adonis in the buttery light, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, jaw and collarbones catching the glow. You shook your head, eyes glued to the concrete. “Yeah, you don’t cry like that when you’re mad. You get all hissy, like a pissed off street cat.” You snapped your gaze upwards, glaring at Toji as he smirked at you, his scar quirked upwards with the curl of his lips. Sometimes you hated how well he knew you.

“And what am I supposed to do when one of us is down, huh? I can’t run like I used to, I gotta stick around, make sure you don’t end up sobbing in a bar like a suit going through his second divorce,” he teased, but you tilted your head and squinted at him. “Sure you can, Fushiguro. Nothing’s stopping you from finding a lay for the night, or some poor sucker to scam. You don’t need to worry about me,” you waved your hand at him, as if shooing him off, “I’m a big girl. Let me cry into my cups and then go get my insides rearranged, thanks.” “I’m stopping myself, pest, cos I gotta stop you from making the same shitty mistakes I made.” “I’m on the pill and carry condoms, Fushiguro, so the only mistakes I can make are accounted for.” You rose to your feet, thoroughly ready to end the conversation, throw Toji’s jacket at him and get the hell out of there. God, you were tired. And sad. And growing steadily more and more irritated with the man standing between you and a decent fuck. “And what about the sex, sweetheart?” That caught you off guard. You peered at Toji, “Eh? What about it?” “Chances are, you aren’t gonna get a decent fuck tonight, doll,” Toji shrugged, pushing himself off the streetlight, the pole groaning in relief. You squinted at him, and he continued, counting on those long, thick fingers of his, “one, it’s a weeknight, so your crowd’s already thin. Two, it’s only, what? Nine? Most people aren’t even out yet, and if they are, they’ve been drinking since lunch – unless you like them that wasted?” he raised an eyebrow at you and you gave him a withering stare, “three, you can never guarantee that a stranger is gonna be a good lay,” he held his hands out, his case closed. You huffed. “So? Maybe I don’t get a good fuck, it isn’t your problem, or your business,” you began to shrug his jacket from your shoulders, only for Toji to cage you between the wall and fortress of his torso, one arm barring your way as he leaned over you. You were about to quip about Toji being too old for kabedon to work, but something in his heavy-lidded eyes kept you silent, heartrate increasing,

“Well, sweetheart, I’m making it my business. And therefore, you getting a good fuck is my problem,” he hissed, the scar on his lip was drawn tight by the pressed line of his lips, you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You’d once joked that Toji had cursed energy, but only to make women crazy for him, and your claim wasn’t unfounded. This close, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath on your cheekbones, taste the scent of whiskey and cheap deodorant and the musk of his sweat, could see each long, dark lash as he lazily blinked over burning eyes, this was too close. You lifted your hands to hold between the two of you, and ended up with your palms on his chest. His heart beat against your hand, hard and steady. Nothing like the heavy rush of blood in your ears that filled your head as you stared at him.

You took pride in being the only one who could read him, who knew what each iteration of his scowl meant, what a twitch of his scar meant, what that deadly smirk of his meant. His smirk was that of a predator who’d found his prey, and although you’d seen it too many times to count, you had never been its subject. His prey. Until now. Backlit by the streetlamp, Toji bore a saint’s halo, but his eyes were that of a much darker beast. You sucked in a breath, brain fuzzy and vision blinded.

“Then solve my problem, old man,” you murmured, throwing out your challenge with your inhibitions. This would be a problem for later, not now, not when Toji’s presence surrounded you in a haze, not when those deeply buried desires had erupted into your stomach in a flood of heat and gooseflesh. Toji raised a brow, smirk widening to a smile that flashed his teeth in the dark. His body was tense beneath your palm, hesitant as he inched his face closer to yours. His eyes never left yours, even as his tongue ran over his lips. He was stalling, giving you a chance to run, to leave him, to retreat to your home for the night and pretend that he’d never offered to fuck you into oblivion.

You kissed him. A soft brush of your lips against his, your eyes half-closed as you watched his reaction. Your back collided into the wall behind you, arching away from the cold and into the warmth of his chest as his hand dropped to your hip. He devoured you with one kiss, his lips pressed hard and hot on yours, a low rumble dying in his throat. Toji took control of your mouth, messily kissing you with a languid flow to his lips. You couldn’t help the small whine from spilling between your lips, and you slid your hands up Toji’s chest to grip onto the hair at the back of his neck.

The hand at your hip shifted to the small of your back, his warm palm spread wide and his thick fingers splayed over your dress, under his jacket. With a grunt, Toji pulled your body flush to his, and with your gasp, pushed his tongue past your lips. Fuck, he tasted good. You had expected cheap whisky and nicotine, but something about him, about the way his tongue moved against yours, licking and sucking, had you moaning softly into his kiss. Shivers rippled down your spine and Toji bit your lower lip gently. You tightened your hold on his hair and pushed your lips firmly against him, giving him a bite yourself, harder and faster than he had so delicately treated you. Giving him permission to give you more, asking for more. His other hand cradled your head as Toji shoved you roughly into the wall, his muscled body pinning you to the wall as he leaned himself fully into you. His kisses grew harsh, all teeth and tongue, causing your lips to swell and little whimpers and curses to fall from your mouth.

Now you knew why all those women kept crawling back to him. Even his kisses were addictive, pure sin in sloppy licks and open-mouthed bites. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning around his tongue and your hips pushed against him. Toji pulled back then, smirk still plastered across his face, but you could see how wide his pupils had blown, could feel how his breathing had grown shallow. Toji shoved his knee between your legs and lowered the hand at your back to your ass. He began to lay hot, wet kisses along your jaw, and you tilted your head to give him better access to the soft, unclaimed skin of your neck. He grabbed at your ass, fingers digging into the flesh and causing your hips to rock against the thigh between your legs.

“Fuck,” you breathed as the friction sent flares blazing in your abdomen. Toji bit your neck then, sucking the skin dark before sliding his thigh between your legs again, chuckling darkly as the denim of his jeans caught your clit in a burst of tingling heat. You threw your head back, gasping. “Desperate little whore, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Toji hummed into your skin, “So needy, to think you’d fuck yourself on my leg like a bitch in heat.” You coloured, and forced your body still. Only to jump when Toji’s palm slapped across your ass, “I don’t remember telling you to stop, sweetheart,” his hand clamped your hip, and dragged your heat down his leg. The sound that left you was primal, from deep in your chest, a desperate keening as your thin underwear became soaked. “That’s it, pretty thing, fuck yourself on me. Hump me like a good little slut,” Toji commanded, guiding you to rock yourself against him once more. He released you, and you kept at it, your eyes rolling back as you ground your needy cunt onto the thick muscle of Toji’s thigh. He smirked and returned to your neck, sucking and biting your sensitive skin until you were covered in a constellation of darkened marks. You lost yourself to the feeling of his body against you, of the burning in your core, of his hungry lips of your skin.

The hand at your ass slid down your leg, and Toji lifted your thigh to hitch it on his lips. He ground his pelvis against your core, and you moaned at the rub of his clothed cock over your drenched cunt. Toji swallowed down your sounds, lowering his mouth back on yours, smiling against your lips when you whimpered. Calloused fingers trickled along your inner thigh, occasionally pinching and kneading the meat of your leg, all while your pussy clenched in anticipation. You screwed your eyes shut, breath heaving from your lungs. Your heart stopped when he brushed his knuckles over your clothed cunt. “Fuck, doll, so wet from a little tongue action? How long has it been since someone touched you?” Toji tilted his head, grinning, teasing. You balked, blinking rapidly as last week’s piss-poor hook-up flashing across your vision. Toji caught your hesitance, “Scratch that, how long has it been since someone touched you properly?” “Two,” you mumbled, looking away. “Two what? Days? Weeks? Months?” you kept quiet, Toji’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his fringe, “Years?” You nodded. “Jesus, woman. No wonder you’re so fucking tense all the time.” With that, Toji shifted his grip to hold your leg higher and tighter against him and slipped a finger under the hem of your underwear. “Holy shit, old man! What are you doing?” You yelped, just as he ran his finger through your soaked folds. Toji hissed at your warmth, at the wet heat that covered his digit in pure arousal. “I’m touching you properly, pest, and you better believe I’m gonna fuck you properly too,” he kissed you and pushed his finger into your pussy. He groaned at the tight hold of your velvet cunt, at the arousal that dribbled down his finger and onto his hand. “But-!” he shoved the fingers of his other hand into your mouth. “Ssh, doll. Don’t want anyone to hear you, do we? Don’t want people to see you fucking my hand like a needy whore, do you?” you nodded, mouth full, “good, then suck my fingers, slut.”

Toji slowly pumped his finger deeper into your cunt and you whined around his fingers. God, you knew it had been long, but with just a finger, Toji had your core tightening and head spinning. He picked up the pace, and with each plunge he reached deep into your pussy, feeling for the spot that would have you collapsing around him. He knew he’d found it when you choked on his digits and your knee buckled, swaying your body into him and his finger deeper into your cunt. “Good girl, that’s the spot, hmm? That feel good, sweetheart?” you nodded desperately, spit dribbling from your lips as Toji’s thick fingers filled your mouth. He pulled his finger from your pussy, and the muffled whine you let out had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Toji chuckled, “Relax, babygirl, I’ve got you,” he took his fingers out your mouth, and closed it with a tap to your chin and an index finger perpendicular to the seam of your lips to shush you. Gently, he ran his hands along your thighs and beneath the hem of your dress, rucking up the fabric up until your soaked underwear was exposed to the world. Toji paused for a second, thumbs tracing the fragile lace hugging your hips.

Then he ripped off your panties. With a tear to each seam at your hips, the lacy garment stuck to your pussy from your arousal alone. Toji peeled it from your cunt, rolled it up and shoved the small lace scrap into the back pocket of his jeans. He winked at you, and plunged two fingers into your pussy. The sound alone made his cock twitch, the thick squelch of your arousal filling the silence of the night, the wet of your cunt covering his hand in shimmering slick as he noisily fucked you with his fingers. Your moans became muffled as you bit down on the sleeve of his jacket, eyes teary and face flushed. God, what he would do to capture this moment. You, drowning in his jacket, your little hand desperately attempting to hold back the needy sounds you were making. Your tight, wet cunt, bare and glistening in the night, barely taking two of his fingers. Your eyes were glassy, focus skyward as you avoided looking down at the sight of you fucking Toji’s hand. “Look at you, fucking my fingers in public like a whore. Tell me, doll, do you flash your pretty little cunt at anyone, or am I the first to make you this needy?” Toji teased into your neck, circling your clit with his thumb and grinning when he felt your hips buck into his hand. You shook your head, eyes scrunched shut. “Hah? Use your words, babygirl? Have you done this shit in public before, or just with me?” Toji pressed deep into your pussy, pushing hard on your clit at the same time. You moaned, rolling your hips onto his fingers, chasing your high, but Toji began to retract when you didn’t answer. “No – hah – just you, Fushiguro – just you,” you babbled through the hand over your mouth, and Toji’s smile grew sly. “Really?” you nodded, rutting yourself onto him, “well then, I guess I gotta reward you for being such a brave little slut, for exposing your pretty pussy for me where anybody could see you,” Toji increased his speed, the flick of his wrist purposeful as he crooked his fingers into your spot each time he pumped into your cunt, his thumb rubbing quick circles over your clit. You began to tremble, the building tension in your core finally reaching its limit and pushing beyond it. Electric shocks ran through your body, your skin shivering into gooseflesh and the moans from your mouth loud and unfiltered.

“Come now, sweetheart, cum for me.” You snapped, your head rocking back against the cold wall behind you as galaxies burst behind your eyes. You gushed onto Toji’s hand, your cunt clamping his fingers deep in your fluttering heat. He pulled you to collapse against him, holding you up as your legs gave way and your arms fell limp around him. “Holy shit,” you panted, gasping for air whilst your body tremored. Toji slowly pulled his fingers from you with a wet schlock, and naturally, you opened your mouth to lick yourself off him. However, Toji sucked your cum from his hand, maintaining eye-contact with your fucked-out gaze as he licked each long digit. As he finished, his eyes fluttered closed, and you felt a groan build deep in his chest. You still leaned heavily against his broad chest, but tentatively put your weight back onto your feet. Your legs wobbled, but you stayed upright, and you quickly pulled you dress down to cover yourself, cheeks burning. You stepped back out of Toji’s hold, one hand on the wall as you regained balance.

“What’re you doing?” Toji grabbed your arm and spun you back so that his chest was at your back. His breath was hot on your ear. “Cleaning up?” you looked over your shoulder at him. “Why bother, I’m just gonna make a bigger mess of you at the flat,” Toji hummed and you humphed, “Well we’re not at the flat yet, are we?” Toji gripped your hand in his, nearly toppling you over as he tugged you along the street, “Good point. Don’t want anyone else to see you when you cum on my cock. Move it, pest.”

…

Toji’s keys were left hanging in the locked door as the pair of you fumbled into the flat, your back once again flush against the wall, dominated by Toji’s large hands and intoxicating tongue. He pinched your nipples through the fabric of your dress, jaw dropping from your kiss as you finally released the sounds you’d stifled back in the alley. “Holy shit, doll. You really are a needy little thing, aren’t you?” he smirked, leaning back as his hips pinned you to the wall. His rough fingertips ran over the skin just above the neckline of your dress, thumbs pressing into the fresh marks he’d made on your flesh. You hissed out in a series of small whines at the pain, your hips rolling against him, your cunt desperate and empty. Toji watched you react to his touch through half-closed eyes, his tongue running along his lips. His fingers whispered beneath the straps of your dress, pulling them over your shoulders. You looked up at him, all wet eyes and flushed cheeks, your lips slightly parted and gasping.

Toji pulled the front of your dress down, freeing your breasts and immediately grabbing your wrists as you moved to cover yourself. He paused, releasing your hands, then reached out to brush a calloused thumb over your pebbling nipple. You whimpered, and arched into the cup of his palm as he held you. “Fuck, sweetheart. Such pretty tits, hmm? You been hiding these from me,” He leaned down and rasped into your ear, “is your pussy just as pretty? You the whole deal?” He wrapped his hands around the back of your thighs and you jumped up to wrap your legs around him. Immediately, his mouth was over your tit, his tongue swirling circles around your nipple, his teeth grazing over its peak. You pressed your chest to his face, and laced your fingers through his inky hair. Toji made eye contact as he released your tit with a wet pop, his green eyes never leaving yours as he kissed across your sternum to your other breast. He bit down into the flesh, his own groan vibrating through you as you moaned and bucked your hips against him.

“Fushiguro, please,” you whined, “just fuck me already!” He paused, looking up at you, the glint in his eyes enough to send a shiver through your body. Devouring. Hungry. He slid his hands below your suspended ass, mouth releasing your tit with a string of saliva that he licked up into your neck. You held yourself up with your thighs and your arms slung around his neck, heart rate gearing up to a terrifying speed as you waited with bated breath. Toji made quick work of his belt and the zip of his jeans, letting them fall to his knees as he freed his cock from his briefs. With one hand to guide him and the other steadying you against the wall, he ran his cockhead through your sopping folds.

He paused then, his tip twitching against your clit, appraising you from beneath long lashes and lowered brows. He gave your cunt a preliminary thrust with two fingers, scissoring your tight pussy open, but not far enough. You began to writhe against him, empty cunt desperate for him, for the fullness you knew he would bring. “Please, Fushiguro,” you breathed, small tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. You’d never been so needy in your whole life. Every fibre, every nerve, every muscle, all of it craved him, craved his touch, his kiss, his cock. “Alright, alright, relax, sweetheart,” he muttered, guiding his cock to your entrance, “I’ve got you,” he reassured, slowly lowering your hips over his cockhead.

The stretch was unbelievable, your cunt already straining to take his girth and head as you threw your head back, eyes rolling. You cursed, dragging out the profanity in a howl, and your cunt clenched around his tip. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop his hips snapping up into your heat, couldn’t help bottoming out in one thrust to your velvet wetness. The noise you made fell out in a choked cry, your thighs already twitching in their hold around his torso. “Fu-uck,” Toji groaned, the loudest noise you’d heard him make the whole night. His teeth hissed across your collarbones, nipping and licking as you adjusted to the stretch of your pussy around his length.

But you didn’t want to wait, or adjust. You pulled your hips from him, and rolled your stinging cunt back over his cock. “Damn, you really want to be fucked like a whore, hah? Wanna ride my cock like my little toy, hmm, babygirl?” he rumbled, securing his grip on your hips before giving you a hard pump. “Yes – fuck – please – Fushi-guro,” you sputtered out, your back jolting into the wall with each driving thrust, too drunk on the burning in your core to care about the pain. “It’s Toji, sweetheart – Hah – don’t try be professional when I’ve got my cock this deep in your cunt – Fuck!” Toji grumbled, keeping as steady a rhythm as he could, the muscles of his back and arms rippling in waves as he moved into you. You nodded weakly, too deep in the haze of your pleasure, each thrust hitting your centre, your walls stuffed to a fullness so good you could cry. Or cry more than you already were, sloppy sobs bubbling from your lips as Toji fucked you, an incoherent babble of his name, curses, and moans.

Eventually Toji pulled you off the wall, your hands scrambling to get a steady purchase on his shoulders, your fingers wound into the tight fabric of his Henley. Leaning back, knees bent, Toji lifted and dropped you onto his cock, plunging in even deeper as he pistonned into you. His hips increased speed, until you were bouncing on him, your head lolling back as your body became jelly. Your tits smacked onto your chest, and the sound of your gushing cunt nearly overpowered your whines and cries. Toji glanced down, nearly cumming at the sight of his cock splitting your pussy, your entrance straining to take him, yet your walls so desperate to keep him. He looked up, to your teary, glossy eyes, open mouth, your dishevelled hair. You were the whole deal. His whole deal.

Before he could lose himself in the consequences of his current actions, your cunt clamped down on him and your body began to shake. “Need to, gonna, cum,” you panted, “Toji, need to cum!” He sped up further, thrusting harder and deeper into your spasming cunt until you came with a cry. Your eyes rolled back, Toji’s name dribbling from your lips as electricity buzzed through your core. You went limp, your forehead dropping to his shoulder, still clutching onto him. “Good girl,” Toji gravelled, slipping from you, still hard. You whimpered at the loss of him, your empty pussy dripping onto his hips and thighs. Toji lowered you to a threadbare couch, before stepping out of his jeans and underwear. He pulled his shirt over his head as he approached you, tossing the dark garment onto the cushions behind you before gathering you in his arms and walking through his tiny flat.

He kissed you roughly and threw you onto his unmade bed, surrounding you in the scent of him, his musk. He clambered over you, his hands running over your body as he looked for the zipper to your dress. You lifted an arm, trembling fingers useless as you tried to undo it. Toji smacked your hands away, leaned in and gave the zip a tug. It broke halfway, and with several muttered curses, Toji manhandled you out of the piece of clothing. You became splayed out on your back, bare to him, flushed and panting. He paused, as if committing the image to memory.

You were flipped onto your stomach, and you immediately pulled your wobbly legs up, arching your back perfectly, dazed eyes watching as Toji lined himself up behind you. His grunts and muffled groans were indecipherable as he re-entered you, your cunt still tight around him, walls still struggling to adjust to his thickness. You moaned, mouth muffled by your shoulder. He slapped your ass cheek, sending stinging heat and pain down your spine. “Eyes forward, doll,” he drove into you, nearly knocking you from your forearms, the smack of his balls against your clit creating ripples of static in your core. He wrapped his palms around your hips, his fingers deep in your flesh. You could feel the tissue bruise, and arched into it, revelling in the harsh way he pulled you back onto him, the way he slammed his pelvis into you.

Your head dropped forward, hands knotted in his sheets, letting him use your body, letting your mind drift into a haze of heat. Suddenly, you were yanked upward by your hair, thick fingers wrapped into the strands as Toji pulled you into his chest. You began to shudder, his cock hitting your centre, stars bursting behind your eyelids. Toji must have felt the convulsions of your cunt, as he drove into you harder, the hand in your hair winding down to pinch and twist at your clit. “You gonna cum again, hah? Gonna cum like a good little whore?” he hissed through clenched teeth. And with a deep thrust and harsh pinch of your clit you came, your body tensing and releasing in a shivering wave of heat and pleasure, your voice ringing out Toji’s name. He shoved you forward onto the mattress, his own pace quickening as he fucked you through your high, your face buried in the bed as he thrust into you. He came with a loud grunt in your ear, his arm wrapped warmly across your chest as he pumped his hot cum inside your clenching cunt.

“There’s a good girl, take it all,” he grabbed your face and pulled you into a messy kiss, his cock still twitching in your heat. Then he was gone, pulling out from you and letting you fall into the mattress. He rolled you onto your back, laying one final deep kiss across your lips before leaving the room. You fell back to earth with a thud, legs still echoing from your orgasms, Toji’s cum from your cunt onto the sheets, your eyes glued to the ceiling.

You’d just let Fushiguro Toji fuck you. Your partner. The man you’d sworn to die beside. The one man you should never have touched. The one line you should never have crossed.

[baecvlt]

I saw how you liked my headcanons for mastermind souda a while back. If its not too much, could you write a smut about it? I won't pressure you to if you you don't wanna. There's just not a lot of souda smut around.

Yandere Mastermind!Kazuichi Oneshot

a/n: ugh im so looking forward to to this PLSHDHBD also established friendship between him and the reader + I changed that you find out at the reveal of the mastermind. I also added one small element. You can read the headcanons for yourself right here.

warning: rough sex, blood, toys

You all stared in awe for the mastermind finally stood before you and I’ll tell you right now, it was of the least expected. “Oh...my god!—,” Sonia gasped, covering her mouth. “That’s right, princess!,” he said,“The mastermind is none other than me, the ultimate mechanic, Kazuichi Soda!”. He laughed maniacally as we stared in utter shock. “But you!— You killed Gundham!,” she cried, dropping to her knees. Slowly, he approached her, grabbing her tear stained chin. “You see, Miss Nevermind, I never wanted to kill Tanaka. In fact, I wanted him to live more than anything!,” he said, in a voice of fake nobility,“But He had to go...for love!”.

“You don’t love me...ALL YOU’VE DONE IS INCONVENIENCE ME EVER SINCE WE GOT ON THIS ISLAND, SINCE YOU PUT US HERE!—”

“You think I killed for you?! My crush on you was a facade, moron. THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY”

“What?”

“I’d never kill for, let alone fall in love with monarchy trash”

Sonia looked around, returning her glare to him. “But who else?”. He walked away from her. “Tanaka was getting too close to her,” he said, toying with a small device he had been working on since the time you got here. “That’s just sick,” you muttered, softly. Yet, he still heard you.

“I couldn’t let him get any closer to you, my sunshine”

He glared at you, suddenly it clicked. Apparently, it clicked for everyone else too as they were all staring at you. “It can’t be...,” you said,“No, please!—”. He walked up to you, placing his hands on the sides of your face. “I’ve always loved you, sunshine,” he cooed,“My heart bleeds for you”. “Soda, I’ve loved you for so long...why?,” you pondered, but no response. After a while of silence, you began to bargain.

“I-...I’ll do whatever you want, just please let us go..”

He wouldn’t break eye contact with you. “You...You have to come with me,” he told you. You pulled away, instinct told you too. “What the hell are you doing?!,” Fuyuhiko scolded you, much more aggressive than usual,“GO WITH HIM, YOU BITCH!”. That was when the floor beneath him opened, where he fell.

Well, almost fell.

He had grabbed on the leg of the stand, not letting go. Kazuichi approached the hole where Fuyuhiko would inevitably fall to his death. “You shouldn’t have said that,” Kazuichi said, raising his foot. “No!”. He stopped himself from stepping. “Please, don’t,” you begged,“Please!”. He thought about it, sighing. “Fine,” he muttered, extending his hand, which Kuzuryu grabbed. “Never mind”.

He dropped him. He fell.

You stared in more shock. He just murdered one of your friends in front of your very eyes. Sonia began to cry harder as Akane, Hajime, and yourself stared in greater shock. You heard a distant scream grow louder, suddenly, Fuyuhiko sprung up from the ground and Kazuichi was rolling on the floor. Tears left his eyes, crying of laughter. As menacing as it was, it was the happiest you’d seen him. “Grow the fuck up, Kaz!,” you yelled, going to check on Fuyuhiko,“I-I’ll go with you, just promise me you won’t hurt anyone else. Kazuichi grumbled, but agreed. Before you could go, Hajime stopped you. “You don’t have to do this,” he reminded you,“What if he hurts you?”.

“Better than he hurt the rest of you”

You walked away, looking back. “Wait for me,” you told them. “Come on!,” he said, grabbing your hand and running as if he were a child. He took you to a door, leading to a hallway. He took you down to the last door, leading you too a room. There he opened the door, showing you a bed with red sheets. He sat you down, suddenly being awkward. “So,” he began,“Hi!”.

“What do you want from me?”

He began to pace around. “You, I’m afraid,” he muttered,“I always loved you, but I didn’t know how to tell you”. You just stood there, in shock. There was still a heart within him. "I created this game just for you," he confessed,"I just want you, but at what cost? All the lives lost...". He pulled you to him, grabbing you waist. "Kaz.....," you whispered,"I don't know what to say..but I know I've always felt the same, but I never knew you could love me". He smiled.

"I can give you the world, but I need one thing"

"What's that?"

"I need you to give yourself to me"

You swallowed hard, nervous. "I need you to be able to handle me," he explained,"I can give you a better life and you'll be like my queen". Normally, you would say no fast, but you weren't doing that. You loved this boy, he loved you. What more could you want?

"I'm yours"

His eyes lit up,"What?".

"Do as you wish to me"

He snickered, sitting on the bed. "You are to call me master until I'm done with you," he said with a smirk,"Strip for me". You nodded and huffed out an "Okay". He stopped you. "Nuh-uh," he shook his head,"Not 'okay', it's 'Yes...'".

"Yes, master"

"Good girl"

You slowly took off your clothes, your face reddening from how embarrassed you felt being in this position. You now stood there, fully nude. "Jesus, your body is gorgeous," he looked you up and down, adding,"I want to make this more interesting". He walked up to a drawer, pulling out a Black ribbon. He got back to you, holding your hair back to tie it around your eyes. "Perfect. Now, stand here again". You heard him walk away, his footsteps in the direction of the drawer.

Bzzzzzzzzzz..Bzzz...Bzzzzzzz—

A sudden vibrating sound echoed through the room. "Let me walk you," he said, holding your hand. You nodded, walking and then feeling your calves hit the mattress. "Take a seat," he said politely. You nodded once more, sitting down fast. That was your first mistake, landing exactly on a vibrating object. You almost screamed, skin stinging. You could hear him chuckle. "M-Master..," you attempted to speak, biting your thumb. "What's wrong, my sunshine?," he asked in faux-concern. You. could feel how wet you were, playing with your tits a little to stimulate yourself. Kazuichi got up, grabbing your hands. "No touching or I'll have to put them up. Come here". He grabbed your jaw, kissing you. You moaned as he did, becoming weaker. "Ready for the next toy?". You nodded eagerly, already so turned on.

You heard his footsteps walk to the drawer, then come back.

He put something in your hands, feeling around to see what it was. "You know what this is, don't you?". You recognized the silicone and shape, nodding. "Good. Now, I want you to put on a show for me". You blushed twice as hard, sitting further back onto the bed. "Don't be shy," he added,"It's just us. All for me to see". You nodded, parting your mouth open. You began to drool over the toy, sucking it off. After getting it moist, you spread your legs, earning a small gasp from Kazuichi. You teased between your folds, moaning softly. "H-Hey, quit teasing me," he said. You snickered, sitting up and placing the toy between your legs. You sank down on it, making sure Kazuichi could see how deep you took it. You rode it, Kazuichi slowly becoming envious of the toy.

"I'm so filthy, aren't I, Master?"

"Hey..–"

"My pussy is so dirty, Master. Don't you wanna punish me?"

"I-"

"Please, Master. Abuse me, make me yours"

He suddenly pushed you back, pulling the toy out and replacing it with two of his fingers. You screamed a "Yes!" as he thrust them in and out of you and he didn't stop till you were shaking. Not just shaking, your body was convulsing when he pulled out. He forced your legs open, positioning himself between them. Before you could beg him to have mercy on you, he just full on thrust in you. His cock wasn't small either, so pain. You began to moan in between sobs as he slammed into you. "Why are you crying? Do you want me to slow down that bad?," he asked. You didn't want that at all. In fact, you wanted him harder.

"If you insist"

He then began to thrust agonizingly slow into you. You groaned, gripping the sheets. "This is what you wanted, wasn't it?". You shook your head. "K-Master, f-faster, please".

"I don't understand. You'll have to be louder"

"Master...–"

"Beg for it"

You full on threw a fit, begging him. You became frustrated, almost crying more. "Good, good girl," he praised, slamming into you again. He leaned down, biting into your shoulder; hard. You screamed, covering your mouth trying to keep your eyes from rolling back. You felt light headed after the bite. "You're bleeding," he noted, licking the bite and humming afterword. His hand moved to your throat, asphyxiating you.

Just a little bit, though.

"I love you, sunshine"

"I-I love you too, m-master.."

He kissed you, his hand still on your throat, only tighter. He took your breath away, dizziness hitting. "I'm gonna cum," he muttered. You encouraged him to do so, he didn't hold back. It became too much. Then, you were out cold. He was confused, pulling out since you weren't responsive. He took off your blindfold before checking you were okay. "Hey, wake up". He tapped you, then shook you gently. You were still breathing, but just out. "That's not good," he thought aloud. He covered you with a towel, taking you to the bathroom to wash you up. He was nervous while cleaning you up, but he'll never tell you that.

You weren't out for long, regaining consciousness in the tub. "Huh?". He kissed your forehead when you woke up. "What's going on?," you asked him. He laughed nervously. "You may or may not have passed out right after I finished," he said,"You had me worried".

"That's really fucking embarrassing"

"Hey, it's okay"

He kept helping you wash up, letting you wash your areas yourself. Then, he helped you into bed curling up next to you after helping you put on some underwear. "Uhm, what are we gonna do about the others," you asked, He scoffed.

"They can wait. Right now, I want to hold you"

You nodded as his arms wrapped around your waist. He kissed you repeatedly and all over your face, neck. "You're mine now, remember that". You nodded as he whispered,"All mine..".

[fezcosbitch]

JJ MAYBANK IMAGINE:

PASSION AND WILD REGRET 2

After a few requests, here’s the second part to passion and wild regret

you can read part 1 here

if the link doesn't work please tell me! x

I hope you enjoy ❤️

You can request if you want x

Warnings: Angst, hella angst. Also the pogues (kie) are rude in this one like...RUDE. Reader is confrontational and not gonna lie, i’m here for it, like I wish I could do this. also if you like Kie... you about to not like Kie, shes a bit off the rails, mega jealous ex here.

All feedback’s welcome, as long as its not mean or rude 💙

So yeah, hopefully you enjoy❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was 2:57 when i woke up the following morning, or evening, and i had absolutely no clue what to  do with myself. I had an immense headache, and a deep pain in my heart. How could they do that? say that? You had been there for them all, through everything. Yet somehow they decide to say all that about you. You were there for Kie when she was at her lowest point, you found her in the bathrooms with Sarah, yet when Sarah left, you stayed, and she never saw it. When John B felt like he would never fit in, and you were the only one (apart from JJ) who stuck by him. Or pope, who, for preparation for his college interview wanted someone to revise with so he wouldn’t be lonely for hours on end, and when everyone opted to surf and sun tan instead of help him, you were the one to stay behind and assist him in his studies, while you could’ve been outside in the summer, tanning and surfing. And  then JJ, the person who undoubtedly hurt you the most. You were there for him all the time. Throughout all the beatings his dad gave him. And all the angry times he almost threw his life away by getting arrested. You saved him from so much, and yet he repays you by saying you’re too much for him, and not worth him.

You couldn’t stand having these thoughts festering around in your mind, so decided that the best thing would be to confront the pogues, and ask why they thought what they did. You hopped in your car and drove over to the chateau, ready to either make or break all your supposed friendships.

Pulling up to the chateau, You saw all the pogues sitting around the porch, talking about something you couldn’t hear. After you’ve stepped out your car, you slam the door shut and lock it, as all the pogues heads turn to look at you. JJ immediately gets up and heads towards you, while the rest of the pogues stand up behind him.

“oh baby I-” JJ started, tears brimming in his eyes already just wanting to apologize over and over again. “don’t even JJ, don’t even start” you said , shaking your head at him “I-” he tried again desperate for you to hear what he wanted to say. “NO JJ, NO. You don’t get to speak over me ok? none of you do. I cant believe you guys i mean, how dare you. I’ve done nothing but stick by you! all of you! yet you repay me like this? wow, Thanks guys I really appreciate that yeah. Just, I can’t believe all of you.” You quickly let out, looking at all of them

“I DIDN’T AGREE WITH THEM BABY I SWEAR” JJ bursts out, desperate for you to forgive him. “what?” you question, immediately wanting to know if this is true. “ I-I-I don’t know what you heard but I never agreed to what they said,I would never, please baby believe me, I know you’ve done so much for me, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, I argued fully with them all night, I never once agreed, please take me back.” JJ begged, now directly in front of you grasping onto your hands. “is this true?” you asked the rest of the pogues behind him, desperate to find out if it was true or not, desperately wanting someone on your side. All the pogues solemnly nodded, proving to you that JJ did in fact argue against his friends. You looked him dead in the eye “of course i’ll take you back idiot, i kind of stormed of halfway through, didn’t get to hear what you said” you told him smiling through your tears of joy due to knowing that JJ did in fact fight for you. you quickly take him in your arms and hold him tight, “I’m so sorry” you whispered, knowing it must of been hard for him to read the letter you left him. “It’s ok” he whispered back, lightly kissing your shoulder. In that moment you both knew you were never going to let go of each other again, and that if needed, you’d swim entire oceans to be together. 

In all of that chaos you had forgotten the pogues behind you, who you initially came here for. Breaking out of the hug between you and JJ, you turn to face them with all your pent up anger ready to be unleashed, and knowing JJ was safely with you, and prepared to go to the end of the earth with you, you felt ready to take on whatever your ‘friends’ say to you. 

“What about you guys then?” you started off. “What was that all about? all the ‘Y/ns not good enough for you’, and the ‘she’ll only bring you down’ what was all that?” you questioned looking around at all three of them “Its our honest thoughts” Kie spoke up, making you turn to look at her. “really?” you questioned, cocking one eyebrow. “yeah” she responded, crossing her arms. “boys?” you asked, wanting to see if they agreed. John B was the first to nod his head, almost instantly, and pope slowly after, agreeing with his statement. “wow... All my friends hate me.” you whistled, slowly coming to the full realization. JJ grasped your hand, to remind you that he was there for you. “We don’t hate you y/n... we just hate you and JJ being together” John B backed Kiara up, acting as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “why bro? why can’t you just be happy for us?” JJ questioned from behind you, genuinely curious “ because bro, Shes a bad influence. She doesn’t care bro, not about you, us, anyone man why can’t you see that? sure shes cool and stuff and shes a fun friend but that’s all she should ever be” John B ranted. “ What the fuck bro? All of you think that? wow. So everything I’ve ever done for you guys is washed away by some dumb mistakes right? I do some drugs and SHIT I’m the worst person in the world right? everything I’ve ever done forgotten because of some things I do when I’m drunk right?” you questioned all at once, trying to show them how stupid they were being. “Yes” Kiara responds. “Yes because we don’t know what else you’ll do. First it’s molly, next its what? METH?” Kiara stressed. “You’re unreliable, and God knows what you could get JJ into.” she finished. “wha- Kie why are you SO scared about what JJ could get into man? Like what?  I’d never hurt him, or do anything like that, I love him man, so what are you so worried about?” you ranted, confused by Kies emotions. Of course you understood her worry for her friends. but she didn’t say that about John B, or Pope, so why JJ? “BECAUSE YOU DON’T DESERVE HIM! YOU NEVER DID” Kie fully lets out. Ah, you understood now. “You jealous Kiara?” you questioned? “you want JJ yeah? want him to be with you, so now everything I do apparently is more of a reason for him to be with you yeah?” you finally said, having worked out why she was so angry. Kie and the rest of the pogues were silent at your discovery. “wait, what about you guys?” you questioned the two boys. “well uhh, Kie kinda told us you may have cheated on J”

your jaw dropped. 

“THE FUCK KIE? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” you were shocked at the lies she was spilling. “ WELL YOU DON’T DESERVE HIM ANYWAY, THE MORE PEOPLE THAT SEE THAT MAYBE THE MORE HE’LL REALIZE IT, WHO CARES IF THERE’S A COUPLE OF LIES” all of you stood there shocked at what Kie just said. “ the fuck-” JJ started, shocked out of his mind that Kie would say something like that. “ I can’t even. Don’t talk to me Kiara, don’t even approach me until i say so, oh and sort out your major jealousy problem, it’s not cute honey” you said while getting in your car, waiting for JJ to enter in the passenger side. After J got in, you started the car and rolled down your window, “oh and I forgive you boys, i understand why you did it, so like don’t worry. Sort it out Kie, love” you sarcastically grinned and waved to her as you drove away.

“Jesus Christ” you said to JJ “you know I’d never cheat on you don’t you?” you questioned just to make sure. “no of course i know you wouldn’t, its just, the fuck was that with Kie like, what even?” JJ responded. “Honestly, I don’t even know. I forgive John B and Pope cause like, obviously, they were lied to and lead to believe all that but like. How can she be so jealous man?” you questioned, genuinely curious about how one person could be so jealous of another. “I don’t know baby, I don’t know” J responded while kissing your hand.

even though you were away from it all, one question played on your mind...why would she do that?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So yeah... Kie did that.

What were your thoughts? Please tell me ! 💙

Part 3 anyone? If so please tell me x

Sorry for the long wait x

And also sorry if it’s bad ❤️

But yeah that was that how do you feel about it?

All feedbacks welcome as long as it’s not rude or mean💙

But yeah, cya

People who wanted to be tagged :

@mrsmaybank18 (Wouldn’t let me tag you :( )

@captainwinterwriter @ifilwtmfc @hurricane-abigail

@thenextteen

[supercorpkid]

The date.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Lillian Luthor x Granddaughter!Reader

Word count: 2202.

“MOOOOOOOM!” You open your bedroom door and stick your head out just to yell. You leave it open and go back inside looking at your entire wardrobe on top of your bed.

“What’s going on?” Lena walks in two minutes later and looks at the situation of your bedroom. “Oh my God, what happened here? A hurricane?”

“Far worst.” You complain sitting on your bed, about to cry. “I have a date with Maya.”

Lena looks at you confused. You’ve been having dates for weeks now.

“A real date. In a restaurant.” You add, pointing at yourself. “I can’t go looking like I’m a fugitive who just robbed a bank.”

You get a chuckle in response, which makes you huff, upset.

“Stop laughing. Help me!” You beg, picking up your clothes. “She’s just so gorgeous.”

“You’re gorgeous too, babygirl.” Lena reaches for your face, but you step away.

“Mom, seriously. I get it, you think I’m cute and pretty and nice, whatever.” You cross your arms. “I want to LOOK pretty. Can you do that, please?”

“Ok. Let’s see what we have here.” Lena starts trying to untangle the clothes from your bed, analyzing each item of clothes you have. She keeps making combinations, and talking at the same time. “Remember to eat slow. The way you and your momma eat it’s not cute.”

“You married her.”

“Well, I’m-well-It doesn’t matter what I did.” She looks back at you, handing you an outfit. “Let’s see this one.”

You change using your superspeed and Lena looks at you, raising an eyebrow.

“No.” She goes back to the pile of clothes. “I know you are an alien, but Maya doesn’t, so she won’t think it’s cute.”

“Yeah, ok. Got it.” She gives you another combination and you change again.

“Too formal.” Lena shakes her head in denial, making you roll your eyes. “Also, please pay for dinner.”

“I will.” You agree, showing her a sweatshirt, she denies with her head.

“Oh, I remember one that I think will look great.” Lena goes to your closet, and you hear her voice coming from there. “So, do you need me to drive you there?”

“Mom, I can literally fly.” You answer a little bit louder, and she comes back with a suit jacket. You deny with your head. “No, mom! I’m not gonna wear a suit for my date.”

“It’s not a suit.” She goes to you, putting on your shoulder. “It’s a part of a suit. You can put it with jeans.”

“Please don’t make me regret asking for your help.” You pout and she breathes deep.

“Hey, what are you two up to?” Kara asks leaning over the door frame from your bedroom and you look at her.

“I have a date, mom’s helping me pick something to wear.”

“What?” Kara looks outraged. “Why haven’t you asked me?” You just give her an eyebrow raise, and when you look behind you Lena is doing the exact same thing. “I have great style.” She mumbles to herself.

Kara makes space in your bed for her to sit, and keeps playing with your clothes. You can see Lena is two seconds away from kicking her out of the room.

“You know, I think you’re due a haircut.” Kara says and you run to the bathroom’s mirror.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” You yell, desperately.

“Nothing’s wrong with it!” You hear Lena’s voice. “Honestly Kara, if you’re not going to help…”

“I am helping!” She huffs annoyed. “I don’t know why you two are making such a big deal about this. You have been seeing Maya for weeks!”

“Uh.” You groan, going back to your bedroom. “You wouldn’t understand. You were friends with mom for years before you made a move on her. She knew everything about you, and still wanted you.” You look at Lena. “Why, exactly?”

“HEY!” Kara defends herself, then pouts looking extremely offended by your comment.

“I’m not saying she shouldn’t!” You rush to reassure her. “You’re cool, funny, and so handsome!” Kara smirks to that. “But you ARE an alien. So, what made you fall for an alien?”

You look at Lena, still shuffling through your clothes, and Kara also looks at her, very expectantly, like she doesn’t know the answer herself. Which is absolute bullshit, because you’ve never seen two people more in love in your life, and they are constantly talking about it and showing affection.

“Really? Just look at her.” Lena points at Kara, whose smirk just grows bigger. “Look at those guns!”

Kara flexes her arms, and Lena’s eyes zeros in it in hunger.

“You know what? Forget I asked.” You go back to your pile of clothes. “Stop looking, JESUS!” You clap your hands in front of Lena’s face. “Can’t you guys just wait until I leave for my date?”

“When is that exactly?” Kara asks, and you roll your eyes, feeling kicked out. But you still look on your phone.

“In ten minutes.” You look at some clothes. Your eyes slowly widen when you realize what you just said. “TEN MINUTES! MOM! I have TEN MINUTES!”

“Ok, calm down. You have super speed.” Lena shoots a look at Kara. “Come on, help.”

Kara mumbles something about the fact you two don’t think she has great style (which is true), but helps you to pick up a long-forgotten jeans jacket you loved so much. Lena picks up the rest of the outfit around it, and you’re ready with three minutes to spare.

“Hey, don’t forget to compliment her.” Kara says walking behind you, while you make your way to the backyard.

“Be a gentleman. Pull the chair.” It’s Lena’s turn to advise you.

“Oh, and if she asks how you got there, please don’t say you flew there on a bus.”

You snap your head back at Kara, squinting your eyes.

“Why on Earth would I say that?”

“Trust me, it could happen.” It’s Lena who answers and you look on your phone just to make sure you don’t have time to ask any further questions about it. “And don’t forget to pay-”

“Oh, dear Rao, I’ve got it!” You fly away after that.

You don’t got it. You absolutely do not. You’re revisiting the entire list they gave you from ‘compliment her’ to ‘pay for dinner’, when Maya walks in the restaurant and you almost choke on your own saliva.

“Hey, babe.” You hear her voice and you scramble your brain for words and the list. Oh, the list!

“Wow, you look… Wow.” You say and she chuckles, coming closer to kiss your cheek lightly.

“You look ‘wow’ yourself.” It’s her answer. Oh, the chair! Pull the chair.

“Here.” You pull the chair and she sits, with a smile on her face.

“What a gentlewoman.” Maya says and you celebrate inside your head. You sit across from her. “Did you moms drive you here?”

“Um…” Don’t say you flew here on a bus. Wait. Of course, you won’t. Rao, Kara is such a dork. “Yeah, Kara gave me a ride.”

“Oh, I thought Kara didn’t drive.” Maya is looking at her menu and you’re in front of her in absolute panic. It’s good she’s not focusing on you at the moment.

“No, she does. Just not well.” You say, making her laugh. And you breathe relieved and happy at the same time. Her laughter is something else. Maya, herself, is something else.

You try not to order too much food, so you don’t look like an actual alien. Usually, you know the exact moment when to stop ordering food by the way the waiter looks at you like you can’t just simply eat all that. This night you stopped way before the look, which probably means you’ll need to buy an entire pizza on your way home. But it’s cool, it’s fine. If not eating like a monster it’s the price to pay for having a girlfriend, you’re more than willing to comply.

“So, I’ve noticed you always have headphones with you. I figured you must really like music.” Maya says and you shake your head agreeing.

Yes, you really like music. And what you like about it so much is the fact that you can drown the noises down with it. Having something to focus on always works for you, when your powers are hard to control.

“I made you a playlist.” She gives you a keychain with a code. You smile from ear to ear. “In case you want to think about me, those are my favorite songs.”

“Oh, I think about you all the time, trust me.” You smile at her, holding her hand on top of the table. “Thank you, I really love it.”

You’re too enamored to notice your surroundings, but you hear an awfully familiar voice that shoots a spike of adrenaline through your spine. You look around to see her there. Oh, no. Not Lillian. Not at the same restaurant you are.

“Can you excuse me for a minute?” You stand up and Maya shakes her head agreeing, but she looks confused. She lets you go, and you pretend you’re going to the bathroom. When she looks down to her phone, you run to Lillian’s table.

“Grandmother.”

“Granddaughter.” She tilts her head, doing her signature move. “Are you here on a date?”

“Maybe.” You shrug. “Are you here to attempt a world take-over?”

“Maybe.” It’s her answer, but she isn’t. She is just eating like a normal person. Why does every day Lillian look more human to you? “You’re looking great.”

“Oh. Thanks.” And now you’re embarrassed.

“You shouldn’t keep your beautiful date waiting to talk to your old evil grandmother.” Lillian points at Maya with a head tilt, and you look back at your table and see Maya sitting there looking amazing. You can’t help a smile that comes up on your face. “Go! I won’t do anything evil today. We’ll talk more soon, dear.”

“Yeah. Ok.” You are almost going back to your table, when you turn around and salute her off. She nods with a tiny smile.

“You cool?” Maya asks and you agree with your head. “I ordered dessert.”

“That’s awesome.” You sit in front of her. “You’re awesome.” You fidget your necklace around your neck trying to calm yourself. “Um, so. I don’t know if you would like this, but um-” Maya holds your hand on the table, and gives it a gentle squeeze, like she’s telling you don’t have to be nervous. You smile. “Well, I applied for this robotics thing, and I have to work on something for it.”

“You know I’m not smart like you, right?” Maya jokes and you laugh.

“No, it’s… I have to work on it next week, and I thought maybe you would like to go to my lab at L Corp with me after school, and like, hang out?” You don’t even give her time to answer and you’re already adding. “But if it doesn’t sound fun, then you don’t have to, at all. Honestly, it’s-”

“Really? That would be great, yeah!” She smiles and you feel your heart easing out a little. “I would love to see this great brain of yours working.”

“Yeah?” You ask and she squeezes your hand again.

“Can’t wait to spend time with you.” She adds and you feel your heart beating so fast, you’re scared she might be able to hear it even without super hearing.

Honestly, you’re a big pile of mess after that. Actually, you’ve been a big pile of mess for this entire dinner, but Maya doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seems to like it.

When it’s time to leave, you pretend to call Lena for her to pick you up. It feels horrible lying to Maya, but you’re well aware that sharing your secret identity is something far too big than few dates. You hope one day you can tell her, but for now, you wait until she’s gone, find an alley somewhere, then you fly back home.

Before going inside the house though, you actually call Lena, just to make sure they’re decent and you don’t see more than what you would like to (again).

“Did you meet Lillian at the restaurant?” Lena asks, going in the living room at the same time you’re walking in.

“Yeah, she was having dinner there.”

“She sent me Maya’s entire family background check.” Lena says looking up from her phone.

“WHAT?”

“Oh, and apparently-” Lena looks at you smirking. “She approves.”

“Is it weird that I feel like I should break up now?” You joke, making your mom laugh. She comes closer and kisses your forehead.

“Don’t worry, I also did the background check once you told me about her.” She smiles when she sees your shocked expression. “And Alex looked them up in all systems worldwide. She’s cool.”

“You guys are so weird.” You half complain, half smile, and make your way to your bedroom.

They are weird, and also unnecessarily overly protective, because you have superpowers and can handle anything. But the fact that your entire family (even Lillian!) were worried about you, it’s extremely adorable. You just freaking love them so much.

Notes:

@hermen0404 and I got so carried away with Maya existence, so yeah.

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

Subtitles: Episode 2, Don’t Touch That Dial

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: A nondescript amount of time has passed since [Y/N] has met the Maximoff couple and the trio has since then gotten better settled in Westview, although none of them have yet to make the best impressions with their neighbors. [Y/N], Vision, and Wanda have found friends and confidants in each other when they haven’t much elsewhere but [Y/N]’s crush remains, begging the question, ‘Is there anything more to come?’ Meanwhile, the people of the cul-de-sac are planning a talent show and the atmosphere in Westview appears to be shifting. Follow along as the happy little world of Westview begins fraying at the seams while strange happenings occur and an unseen power desperately seeks to stitch it back together…

Word count: 13,766

Warnings: This one’s even longer. Fluff, sappy rom-com vibes, more possible second-hand embarrassment. It’s just as weird as the episode.

Tag List: @madamevirgo​

~~~

    “[Y/N], hon. I really think you should cool it on the coffee for the rest of the day.”

    It’s possible that Agnes was right. The tiredness that was caused by a windy, sleepless night has recently been replaced by chaotic, synthetic energy that had your eyes wide and hands shaking slightly. You were on your fourth cup now, which you’d brought with you from the diner you and Agnes had had breakfast at. The two of you were going to pick up Wanda and go over to Dottie’s for actual breakfast—well, brunch—but you both had rocky relationships with the queen of the neighborhood and needed to mentally prepare. You had been up for a better part of the last night due to bushes and tree branches rattling against your windows, not to mention all your previous encounters with Dottie have been disastrous; you needed the caffeinated courage. Agnes just wanted to have something on her stomach beforehand so the alcohol hidden away in her handbag would sit better.

    You hummed around your mouthful of coffee in response to Agnes’s mild worrying. You swallowed, then threw back the last of the no longer hot beverage and scurried over to a random trash can to toss the cup away. “There, see? All done. All nifty.” Just as an extra bit of proof, you gave her some jazz hands and shimmied as you walked back over to link your arm with hers.

    Agnes tried to hold down a smirk but broke into a laugh when the shimmying started. “You look as jittery as a squirrel.”

    “Not as fluffy as a bunny?” you asked with a wide-eyed pout, then reached over to poke a finger in the cage that your companion held; the rabbit inside, Agnes’s pet, immediately offered his head to be scratched. “Señor Scratchy, more like Mr. Cutie Patootie.”

    “Fluffy too, of course,” Agnes offered, giving your curled updo a ruffle. “In a good mood too, which I suppose isn’t a bad thing. With Dottie around, we’ll need it.”

    You almost cracked a grin but then thought about how you’d feel hearing someone say that about you and felt somewhat sad. Luckily, you found a quick reason to grin anyway as Wanda’s house came into view up ahead—

    Only for the grin to turn into a look of confusion as a buzzing suddenly started in your ear.

    You stopped cold, cocking your head as you strained to listen. The buzzing sounded almost like a lawnmower but coming from the sky—a helicopter, perhaps, but there was something off about it like it was happening inside your head—and the sound grew louder until it stopped with a sudden bang, making you jump.

    “[Y/N]?” Agnes’s voice called. “[Y/N], are you alright?”

    Drawn back to your surroundings, you felt a cold sweat on your back and noticed your hands had become clammy; the hair on your neck and arms stood straight up and your body felt suddenly achy, almost have you had come down with a cold out of the blue. You looked at Agnes with wide eyes and saw her staring at you, concerned with both arms gripping your sleeve.

    It took you several moments to recover and when you did, you asked, “Did you hear that?”

    Agnes looked at you incredulously, shaking her head just slightly. “Hear what?” 

    She hadn’t heard it? You felt like the strange sounds had happened right next to you.

    The woman at your side continued, “I didn’t hear anything at all, except for Wanda coming outside. Then you just stopped walking and stood there, I couldn’t even budge you.”

    Agnes nodded in the direction in Wanda’s direction and you looked that way. Wanda was indeed outside now, though she hadn’t seemed to notice you two coming up the sidewalk yet. Instead, she was looking down in the bushes near her fence, seemingly distressed. You followed her gaze and saw something glittering in the sunlight there.

    “Well,” Agnes said loudly, officially snapping you out of your daze, “you seem fine now, at least. I told you all that caffeine was going to make you go looney!” She picked up the rabbit cage she apparently put down while you were… doing whatever it had been that you were doing, then kept walking as if nothing had happened. 

    You watched her for a moment before following. Then you noticed Wanda lean over and pick up whatever it was she was looking at but you couldn’t see what it was as Agnes obscured most of the view. You could, however, see Wanda’s distraught expression and it made you want to run and make sure she was okay; you noted that Agnes still had no reaction, though, and decided perhaps all that caffeine was the actual cause of all these weird feelings. 

    You felt the familiar pang of a headache as you and Agnes got closer. 

    “Look, it’s the star of the show!” Agnes chirped, leaning against the fence bordering the Maximoff lawn. You saw Wanda gasp and drop the thing back into the bushes but Agnes just grinned.

    “Agnes!” Wanda replied in a way that seemed a little strained. She leaned over and covered the bush with an arm. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Then she noticed you, still a little ways behind Agnes, and the tension in her shoulders seemed to relax slightly. “And [Y/N]!”

    You gave her a sheepish wave, still trying to recollect yourself. The faint headache was still there, getting a bit stronger whenever your eyes or thoughts drifted to the object Wanda was obviously trying to hide. At least you weren’t sweaty and clammy anymore, though. Not that that would matter. It’s not like you would be holding anybody’s hand on the way to Dottie’s.

    You wouldn’t mind doing so if it happened to happen though.

    Stop, you chided yourself, Bad. No holding hands with Wanda.

    Unless you hold hands with both her and her husband, your brain decided to think on its own, which is totally cool too.

    No, you chided your brain this time, no holding hands with married couples.

    Fine, your brain conceded. Then after a moment, Just kiss them instead.

    No!

    Good god, that had been too much coffee. 

    You shook your head slightly and watched and Agnes handed Señor Scratchy over to Wanda who headed back to the house with him, though you hadn’t been paying attention to what they were saying prior.

    “...he played baby Jesus in last year’s Christmas pageant!” Agnes was saying, to which Wanda looked over her shoulder and answered, “Ah!”

    Then Agnes looked over her shoulder, and yours, and said, “Oh, morning, Dennis!”

    You side-stepped to let the man pass and took the advantage to move to Agnes’s other side as she chatted the mailman up. You couldn’t help laughing a bit as she made finger guns at him and told him to stick ‘em up.

    “Ho,” Dennis responded, putting his hands up momentarily and smiling, “Don’t shoot, I’m just the messenger.”

    “Pew pew!” Agnes sounded, waggling her “guns” at him.

    You offered your own, less theatrical greeting to Dennis as he walked by, then leaned over and bumped hips with Agnes when you caught her watching him walk away.

    “Please tell me you’re not having an affair with the mailman,” you said.

    Agnes choked, then threw back her head and did what you could only describe as a cackle. “What? Heavens no!”

    “Good,” you replied, then slid a bit closer. Shimmying your shoulders at her, you teased, “Because I’m the only one you need.”

    Agnes snorted and swatted you over the head but she was smiling. “You bird dog, get out of here. I’m married!”

    “And I will duel your husband at dawn,” you cried, “I am the only one who gets to fight bar stools for the lady’s affections!”

    The two of you chortled and separated as Wanda came walking out of the house and back towards you. She looked rather lovely in the pants and cardigan combo that she wore; you also quite liked the pattern of her shirt.

    She looked between the two of you—you felt like her eyes settled on you for just a second longer but that was probably the caffeine too—and as she got closer said, “Shall we?” 

    “Oh, we shall,” Agnes replied, stepping back from leaning on the fence and offering Wanda her arm.

    You saw Wanda glance back at the bushes and she linked her arm with Agnes’s and before you could think about your headache and stop yourself, you followed her gaze. You were now standing on the other side of the fence of the bushes that Wanda had tried to hide the object she’d found in and with a quick peer, you could make out a toy helicopter within the branches.

    There was something very off about the helicopter, as there had been about the sound earlier. Looking at it was like the effects of one of your worse migraines but without the intense pain. Time appeared to slow way down and your head somehow felt like it was both floating and behind crushed at the same time. When you tried to look around it was like you were moving outside of your body, as if you had turned around to look at your own house across the street and yet hadn’t moved at all. Images of Wanda and Agnes’s faces, the Maximoff house and your own, faces and places that you didn’t quite recognize, the helicopter all floated through your line of vision, mushing together or overlaying on top of each other, and you couldn’t be sure whether you were actually looking around or if you had closed your eyes and this was all happening behind your eyelids. 

After what seemed like a century but you were sure was only a very slow second, the helicopter came into focus again, and you felt like you were gasping or squinting or both, but without actually doing either. The toy had a very bizarre color scheme as if the colors didn’t exist in this realm of existence; you couldn’t quite place the names of them no matter how hard you tried. The helicopter’s bright colors—almost too bright to you; it felt like looking at the sun but you couldn’t look away—appeared to turn the entire world around you to shades of gray, including yourself. Yet again, you felt like you moved without actually doing so as you raised your hand, a shade of gray instead of your skin tone. Looking further, your entire outfit wasn’t the combination of your two favorite colors that you thought it was but a variety of grays, as well as the sidewalk you stood on and the fence and bushes you stood next to. 

Your gaze settled on the toy helicopter again even though you were pretty sure you’d never actually looked away.

Blood? The helicopter was the color of blood and sand, with a touch of the color you suddenly hated with every fiber of your being, shimmery gray. 

Then there was a sound like a thunderclap happening directly inside your head and everything was back to normal.

Wanda has just finished linking arms with Agnes and the girls were stepping to one side so you could join their line. Looking at Wanda’s smile directed at Agnes, and Agnes’s scheming look directed at you, the world didn’t seem so out of sorts anymore. You felt both very solid and like you needed to steady yourself but you didn’t have time for the latter and instead, you stepped forward, seeming much more confident than you felt, to link arms with Agnes. 

Agnes, with her scheming look, clearly had other ideas. She suddenly stepped off the curb, jerking herself and Wanda to the side, not only blocking the way you were walking but pulling Wanda directly in front of you. Agnes herself settled easily but Wanda, who had no idea what just happened, stumbled and tripped; she tried to catch herself on Agnes’s arm she held, only to find it was no longer there and ended up falling backward.

Your arms shot out reflexively and caught her around the waist. Wanda, in response, reached behind her and braced herself by throwing one arm around your shoulders while the other caught one of your wrists and twisting in such a way that caused her to turn towards you and kick one leg up so she could steady herself on the other. The result was an almost picture-perfect dip, with you cradling Wanda’s upper body in your arms, her embracing you, and the two of you staring at each other in pure shock. 

Then there was Agnes, standing next to the curb and brushing out a crease in her dress, looking oh so pleased with herself.

A deep blush bloomed across your face as you looked down at the woman—the very married and greatly loved by her husband woman—and your outsides and insides had the same idea of wanting to curl in on themselves and… either scream in joy or die, you couldn’t be sure. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of Wanda right away; along with the longing you often felt when seeing either her or her husband, though it was multiplied by infinity in the current moment, you felt a sudden fierce protectiveness over her come almost out of nowhere. You wanted Wanda Maximoff to be as happy and as safe as could be and it felt like if you let her go any moment before she was properly standing and solid on her feet that something very bad would happen like she would tip and fall and shatter into a million pieces.

Holding her was just very nice in general too.

You felt your fingers twitch at her waist and it drew you back out of your head. You noticed Wanda hadn’t yet pulled away either or moved in general, and you felt like you were going to spontaneously combust when you focused back on the face looking up at you.

Although she couldn’t possibly as red as you were, Wanda was flushed from her neck to the tips of her ears—she had the prettiest blushing face you’d ever seen, you were sure of it—and she was looking up at you from under her lashes, the expression on her face a mix of surprise and embarrassment and something softer than you couldn’t quite place. You felt her arm, warm and strong against the back of your shoulders, and her hands still tightly gripping your shoulder and wrist. For a moment, you felt the hand on your shoulder lightly knead the fabric of your jacket, as if testing something, before her entire grip on you loosened.

“Um,” she started, her voice sounding as dry as your throat felt, “thank you. For catching me.”

“Happy to help,” you croaked, then mentally kicked yourself and cleared your throat; the slight smile that appeared on Wanda’s lips wasn’t lost on you, though.

    “Oh, lovebirds,” Agnes hollered over her shoulder as she walked ahead of you and Wanda, “the Queen of the Cul de Sac will order off with our heads if we don’t hurry!”

    I had no idea that the devil wears plaid, you thought. Then you weren’t how long you and Wanda had been standing like that, or who had seen, and you were panicking. 

    You thought that maybe the two of you might scramble away from each other but it was quite the opposite. Wanda lowered the leg she still had raised and in one fluid motion, Wanda was back standing upright; in another, you twirled her around to your side and linked arms with her, and then the two of you were hustling after Agnes, who stopped and waited with her arm out so that you could link up with her too.

    It was like something out of an old rom-com movie. Except it was a rom-com movie where the main character fancied both the love interest and her husband, something far too farfetched to end happily. 

    “Dottie can’t possibly be as bad as you say,” Wanda said. She looked from Agnes to you and you gave her a sympathetic look. 

    “Well, you’ll notice her roses bloom under penalty of death,” Agnes affirmed as the three of you made it to the outskirts of Queen Dottie’s castle and paused there. “If you don’t believe me, ask [Y/N].”

    Wanda’s eyebrows raised.

    You sighed. “The first day of meeting her I spilled wine on her dress and now I’m ninety percent sure that she thinks I want her dead. She also very much dislikes the idea of a lone stray cat living in her neighborhood.” You unlinked your arms with the ladies to gesture at yourself. “I was getting home late from work one night and she saw me, stepped outside to make sure I wasn’t going to dig through her trash bins.”

    “Oh,” Wanda said with a grimace, “goodness.”

    “I’m sure you’ll do fine, though,” you added quickly, “You’re lovely; I can’t imagine anyone not loving you.”

    Agnes rolled her eyes while you blushed and scratched your neck. You could already see her gearing up for a pre-Dottie tutoring session.

    And then she started with a look-over of Wanda’s outfit. “Wanda—”

    “Hm?”

    “—can I give you a bit of friendly advice?”     Wanda must have caught the look too because she glanced over her outfit, the outfit you quite liked. Raising a hand to her chest, she asked, “Is it about the way I’m dressed?”

    “Yes, but it’s too late for that.”

    You scowled as worry bloomed on Wanda’s face. Unfortunately, you yourself had to learn how important dress was at these social events. You’d expected it to be just a gathering of friendly neighbors but it’s much more like a secret society and you had to look just right to fit it. Now you regretted not telling her sooner; you’d failed your first and only attempt at making a good impression so were content wearing whatever you wanted for the most part but Wanda definitely deserve the poor treatment she was going to get. 

    “Dottie is the key to everything in this town,” Agnes continued, unphased. “Country club memberships.”

    Something you didn’t have.

    “Parties.”

    Something you didn’t go to.

    “School admissions.”

    Something you didn’t have to worry about any time soon but the way Agnes’s gaze drifted towards Wanda’s stomach made you wonder if the Maximoffs did. The thought made your stomach churn but you couldn’t figure out why.

    “Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Wanda interjected with a smile and roll of her eyes. She happened to look your way and you thought the smile softened with her gaze just a tad.

    You relaxed your shoulders.

    Agnes trudged on. “You get in with Dottie and it’ll be smooth sailing from here on out. Just mind your P’s and Q’s and you’re gonna do just fine.”

    “Or maybe I could just be myself, more or less.” 

    “I quite like that idea,” you offered. A wide-eyed glance from Agnes went unnoticed as you were too focused on the smile Wanda definitely gave you that time.

    “Oh, Wanda, [Y/N]” Agnes said with a laugh, “that’s good.”

    Wanda’s excitement for the event today seemed to lessen and you, apparently still high off the moment you thought you two had, gave her arm a gentle squeeze and an encouraging look. 

    She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she gave you an appreciative glance and pat on the hand. Your and her hands lingered for perhaps a second or two too long before they dropped back to your sides. 

    And then the queen and her merry homemakers sauntered their way out the front door.

    “Everybody, hurry up please!” Dottie sang over her shoulder as she quickly walked down the front steps, followed by a line of housewives carrying various covered dishes.

    Agnes twisted to look her way and waved. “Hiya, Dottie, your roses are divine!”

    Both you and Wanda offered a polite wave as Dottie thanked Agnes, although she didn’t stop to chat. Her eyes did do a scan of your trio, though, and you felt your ears burn when a distasteful look was sent your way. 

    Agnes gave you a sympathetic smile and Wanda a look that said “Good luck; you’ll need it!” before sliding her arms under one of each of Wanda’s and yours and tugging the two of you along.

    Your eyes wandered as one of the wives, Bev, talked animatedly about the setup for the talent show happening this weekend. Bored and feeling out of place, you looked over the group of women sitting a circle underneath the canopy tent by Dottie’s pool, purposely excluding Dottie and the woman talking, then the man jumping into said pool, then the man cleaning said pool. 

    You shouldn’t be here. This gathering really was a secret society of women of the neighborhood—not only women but wives in particular—to discuss homely and neighborhood business matters; you weren’t a wife and after screwing up with Dottie, you certainly weren’t involved in any of the other important business, nor did you have any interesting household gossip since you lived alone. The main you were here was because while out of place, you got along more decently with the wives than the husbands and when you’d first moved to town, Agnes thought you would be entertaining company to keep. She’d immediately hung you out to dry by telling her fellow women about you calling out their husbands’ poor attempts at comedy, which amused some of them enough to welcome you; in fact, Dottie had been one of those people, impressed by your initiative if nothing else, until you ruined your chances by ruining her dress. At the current meeting, you’d been specifically invited only because you were taking part in the talent show performance, which had also happened because Agnes heard you singing while doing garden work one day and somewhat strong-armed you in. 

    Your bored eyes eventually settled on watching Wanda, who sat a couple of chairs away on the other side of your mutual companion, and you were no longer bored. While you watched Wanda, she was watching Dottie like a hawk, awkwardly but cutely trying to mimic everything the other woman was doing. She stopped when Dottie started speaking, gripping the cup she was holding a lifeline and you chuckled moments before catty laughter erupted around you. You hadn’t heard what caused it, so you decided to tune back in.

    “The devil’s in the details, Bev,” Dottie criticized, masking disdain with the lightness of her voice. 

    You heard Agnes mutter to Wanda, “That’s not the only place he is.” You couldn’t help but snicker.

    Dottie was standing now and continued on, “As you all know, the talent show is the sole fundraiser for Westview Elementary…”

    Agnes passed a flask to Bev with a cheeky grin as she sat down next to you and after taking a sip, Bev offered it to you. You didn’t have to think twice before snagging a drink of your own and handing it back over to its home.

    “I hear you’re singing,” Bev chirped quietly to you, “For the talent show? I bet you’re a lovely singer, can’t wait to hear it.”

    You blushed slightly and thanked her but didn’t say much more to avoid Dottie’s wrath.

    The wrath that Wanda and her current companion, a woman with dark skin who looked oddly familiar but whose name you couldn’t place, weren’t able to avoid themselves, apparently. 

    “We only have a few hours until showtime,” Dottie said, “so a little less cross-chatter and a little more focus.” 

    As Dottie prattled on, you observed the two women curiously.

    “...is for the children,” Dottie finished.

    “For the children,” the other women echoed.

    “For the children,” Wanda added after everyone else had already spoken, earning several displeased looks.

    You didn’t bother to say anything, opting to take Agnes’s flask and have another sip.

    “So, I want you all to give yourselves a big hand—”

    Wanda, looking petrified, stopped in the middle of taking a bite of a cookie and started clapping. You hid your laugh behind a hand; she still had an entire cookie hanging from her mouth.

    “—at the appropriate time, of course,” Dottie chastised, then continued on yet again.

    Oh, darling Wanda, you thought with a grin, you poor, sweet thing, you. You rested your chin in your hand and watched as she made herself proper until Bev nudged you to take your elbow off the table. You huffed slightly but did so anyway, then tried to catch Wanda’s eye for a moment of solidarity, only to see her talking to the dark-skinned woman again. 

    Your gaze shifted from Wanda to the other woman and your brows furrowed. You swore you knew her from somewhere though try as you might, you just couldn’t place that face, those eyes, that awkward but friendly smile. Perhaps another newcomer to the area that you’ve seen t on the streets or at a shop? You couldn’t imagine where she moved into, though, as you were sure the last two open houses had been the ones occupied by you and Wanda and Vision.

    You felt a sharp pang in your temple and grunted softly. You weren’t about to have an episode here of all places, so you quickly looked away and put the thoughts aside.

    Just as Wanda and the stranger shook hands over their table. Uh-oh.

    “I’m Wanda.”

    “I’m, uh, Geraldine!”

    “And I’m irritated!”

    After getting scolded by Dottie a second time, Wanda locked her jaw and resigned to sitting in her seat with her hands tucked in her lap. She finally looked over at you with helplessness in her eyes.

    You responded with a mouthed “I told you so” and a wink, then silently told her that you’d talk to her after the meeting.

    A comforting face seemed to be what she needed because she relaxed again, though not completely. She settled in for the rest of the meeting and, finishing off Agnes’s flask, so did you.

    After the meeting was over, Dottie asked Wanda to sit back and help her clean up, which you knew meant Dottie doing nothing but being condescending while Wanda did all the work. While Agnes tried to get you to walk her home and then warned you against your plan, you were adamant about staying back and making sure Wanda got through the rest of her first Dottie encounter in one piece. At this point, you knew fitting in and having people’s positive opinions was important to Wanda; you oftentimes felt like that yourself. Unfortunately, Dottie wasn’t the type of person to give out positive opinions easily—you had to earn it, which was hard enough without accidentally interrupting the main meeting multiple times—and that protective feeling for Wanda that had come out of nowhere earlier today still hadn’t faded. You knew Wanda Maximoff of all people didn’t necessarily need you but you wanted to stick around, just in case she did.

    Maybe you were hoping that she would.

    That and you couldn’t help but take one last shot at getting on Dottie’s good side.

    “...and that is why you never do a seating chart on an empty stomach,” Dottie was finishing from her perch on the edge of a pool chair. 

    Wanda walked over to where you stood organizing a cart of dirty dishes so they didn’t all come tumbling down when whichever pretty busboy that Dottie paid finally came to take it away. She was huffing, carrying over yet another pile of dirty plates on a large tray; you skirted around the dish cart and quickly came to her aid, taking as much as your hands could carry from off the top. She offered a grateful smile that you returned before you both unloaded onto the cart.

    Who owned or even used this ungodly amount of dishes?

    A person who paid various pretty people to just be around, you concluded a moment later.

    As you continued to organize, Wanda turned back around to grab a pair of three-tiered dessert stands, both of which had a decent amount of desserts left on them. “Golly, you’re a wiz at all this committee stuff, Dottie. Thank you for choosing me to help you clean up today, I feel so lucky.”

    “You are,” Dottie agreed.

    Wanda turned back to you again and made a face, then stuck out her tongue. You choked down a laugh after catching Dottie’s steely gaze over Wanda’s shoulder, settling for a smile as you took the trays.

    Dottie was just as displeased as you’d expected she’d be that you insisted to stay behind and help.

    “I really should try to make amends before this is over, shouldn’t I?” Wanda muttered. She caught a few plates slipping from the top of a pile and rearranged them.

    “If you manage to do so, you really would be a Westview miracle,” you replied, taking a cup Wanda managed to catch before it tipped off the cart. “But first, how about I make you look ten times better, hm?”

    Wanda gave you a confused look but you just patted her hand before switching places with Wanda and going to grab another tray of dishes.

    You put on your friendliest smile as you began stacking as many cups as you could balance in one arm. “Say, Dottie—”

    “Be careful,” Dottie chimed back, “or at least let me get out of your way first. Wouldn’t want a repeat of our first meeting, hm?” She ended her sentence with a venom-laced laugh, then gave you a tight smile.

    You were pretty sure your eye twitched but you carried on, chuckling with her, “No, I suppose not. I really do apologize about that but you really shouldn’t hold such grudges. Worrying so much causes early-set wrinkles, you know.”

    Dottie’s smile tightened further. You heard Wanda gasp and choke from behind you.

    “Anyway, though, I really would like to make it up to you some time. My boss’s wife gave me two tickets to a food tasting event in town next weekend. I thought it might be something nice to do, plus it might give you some ideas for catering during the next event—”

    “My husband and I would love to go out next weekend, thank you so much. Feel free to drop the tickets in the mailbox the next time you come around.” Dottie paused, then added. “Mailbox, on the opposite side of the porch than the trash bins.”

    Your eye definitely twitched, maybe even both of them. You feigned an appreciative look as you finished stacking your dishes, then scowled as soon as you turned around and walked back to Wanda.

    “Now,” you grumbled, “I beg the sweet release of death to come in a more timely manner. Oh, and whatever you do can’t possibly be worse than me, although I’m sure that was the case either way.”

    “You poor thing.” Was all Wanda could manage, giving your arm a squeeze. “Guess it’s my turn.”

    “Good luck, darling,” you said, then almost immediately regretted it. You don’t know why you decided to fake a British accent, nor why you felt the need to call her darling, but you couldn’t take back either of them now.

    Wanda blinked, then laughed— before it was cut off by Dottie telling you both to get back to work.

    “It’s more dahrling, less dahling,” Wanda teased. “British people do still use R’s.”

    “Fascinating.”

    Wanda grinned, gave you a final pat on the arm, then turned around to take her shot with Dottie. “I can’t help but wonder if you and I haven’t gotten off on the wrong foot, Dottie, and I would like to correct that if I can.”

    A much better approach than you, you noted with an impressed nod. You walked a little ways off to grab another cart to even out the load of dishes; the current one seemed to sag under the weight.

    “And how would you do that?” Dottie asked and you heard the rustle of fabrics rubbing together as she stood. “I’ve heard things about you. You and your husband.”

    You stopped from your place behind the canopy’s pulled-back curtain. What on earth could she be talking about?

    Wanda has the same thought. “Well, I don’t know what… you’ve been told… but I assure you, I don’t mean anyone… any harm.”

    Your brows knitted together and you shuffled around the canopy’s aluminum frame to hear a little better. You couldn’t imagine Wanda hurting anybody, not on purpose anyway.

    A pang in your temple. A surge of that fierce protectiveness.

    You poked your head out just slightly from behind the canopy. All you could see was Wanda’s back and Dottie’s determined expression from beyond Wanda’s shoulder, and the fact that they were standing very close together.

    “I don’t believe you,” Dottie stated simply. 

    As if on cue, the radio on the table started acting up, the music cutting to static combined with a jumble of noises. Like many things today, though, it sounded strange, as if it was coming from all around you, or directly from inside your skull. It stopped almost immediately as it started and music, regular-sounding music, returned. Normal, you thought, until you focused harder, and noticed a voice creeping from the background. It continued to creep closer, get louder like a person walking towards you would, until it was as loud as the static had been and the music was no longer audible. Your head throbbed as the voice sounded like it was coming out of your brain instead of into your ears but you couldn’t anything other than tighten your grip on the canopy.

    The voice said, “Wanda. Wanda. Who’s doing this to you, Wanda? Wanda. Wanda. Wan—”

    The radio shorted out, there was the sound of the glass Dottie was shattered, and there was another thunderclap in your head as the world around briefly flared into color. Color, not shades of gray, but then the gray was back as quickly as it had left. You didn’t know whether Dottie or the bizarre radio’s frequencies had crushed the glass or whether it had just been dropped, but you were walking over with a cloth in hand before you’d even gotten your senses back in order. 

    “Dottie,” Wanda gasped, her eyes flitting about.

    Dottie caught a glimpse of the overly saturated blood spreading out from the gash in her palm—and seemed only mildly annoyed.

    Wanda kept making sounds like she was trying to speak but didn’t quite know how to. She spun around to grab something to press to the wound and almost ran into you. She stared at you, cloth in hand, with wide eyes filled with equal amounts of fear and surprise, like your existence had been completely forgotten until that moment. Then Wanda grabbed the cloth, and your hand in the process; she gave you a silent thank you, your hand a squeeze so tight you felt her fingernails dig into the skin, then turned back to Dottie and pressed the cloth to her bloody palm.

    Dottie grabbed her hand and said, somehow completely aware of the situation and also seeming totally spaced out, “Pop quiz, Wanda: How does a housewife get a bloodstain out of white linen? By doing it herself.”

    Then she smiled and walked into her house. 

    You and Wanda stood in silence and it was then that you realized you felt the same way you figured Dottie did, similar to how you felt earlier today when you saw the toy helicopter in Wanda’s yard. You felt light and spacey and almost dizzy but without the world spinning, almost like you were a mind outside of your body, or a consciousness inside of a body that wasn’t yours. Time didn’t slow but rather sped up; you didn’t know when you’d started walking to Wanda’s aid and you didn’t remember the feeling of ever grabbing the cloth that you’d given her, and the whole event seemed to have fixed itself as soon as it started with the end result being your mind painfully aware of something being wrong but your body refusing to act like anything was. 

All you’d really felt was your head throbbing, not with pain but with pressure, and the desperate urge to help Wanda. Then you did and everything was over.

Wanda.

You repeated her name in the form of a question; it felt different this time. She didn’t respond or really even move aside from reaching back towards you. You rushed over and grasped her arm and she let out a choked gasp.

“[Y/N].” She said it as if trying it out for the first time. It took her a bit longer to pry her eyes away from the spot where Dottie had been, then she held a hand to her mouth and looked at you. “What just happened?”

“I’m… I’m not sure myself.”

It took a bit longer again for her to speak, her eyes darting from you to the door Dottie had disappeared to and back. “Would you walk me home? Please?”

“Of course, Wanda.”

The walk home was quiet. The two of you had your arms linked as you did on the walk over but now Wanda gripped your arm with her other hand too. Like at Dottie’s pool, it was almost eerily silent except for your and Wanda’s footsteps. Tou could have chalked it up to being because everyone was already in town setting up for the talent show, something about it had you glancing around ever so often, as though you could catch someone peering at you through the bushes or through the crack of a partially opened manhole at any moment.

When you got to Wanda’s door, you had a quick chat about the talent show—as if none of the day’s earlier events had happened; she was very excited to hear you sing—and then she headed up the steps to her door. You gave her a wave and turned to walk home.

“[Y/N]?”

You stopped and turned back around, eyebrows raised slightly.

Wanda walked the three steps back down from her door and gave you a hug. “Thank you for being around today.”

“‘Scuse me, coming through!”

Of course, you’d be late. Of course, you’d get home, start practicing for your performance, pass out on your couch, and wake up five minutes before the show started with a suit and dress combo to still pull on and a few instruments to properly secure in their trunk.

You weaved your way between folks who were either going to the talent show or trying to ignore it and stumbled your way upstairs to the backstage.

Wanda was standing there in a magician’s assistant costume that almost had you on your knees and begging for mercy before you remembered you had a show to do that you were also very late for. She and the Black woman she’d been talking to at Dottie’s meeting—Geraldine, Wanda had informed you later—spun on you with an expectant gasp, only to slump in disappointment when they saw it was you.

“Golly, thanks for the warm welcome,” you muttered, setting your trunk down and popping it open. “Suppose I deserve it for missing most of the show, though.”

“I’m so sorry, [Y/N],” Wanda said as she paced over, “You look fab and I’m sure your performance will be a blast—”

“If I’m still performing?” you asked, directing the question at Geraldine with a hopeful smile.

“If you’re ready before the husband gets here, you can take their place,” Geraldine offered, “If not, you can finish the show off.”

Finishing the talent show, not nerve-wracking at all.

“Vision’s not here?” You gave Wanda a questioning look as you walked past her to look

at yourself in a full-body mirror on the other side of the stage to make sure your look was still in order. The top half of your outfit was a full, simple, black and white tuxedo with a matching black fedora that slightly offset on top of your hair; one of Dottie’s white roses, which you acquired after stuffing her and her husband’s food taster tickets in her mailbox on your way into town, poked out from the hat’s band. The bottom half was a simple skirt—actually, the skirt and undershirt of your outfit was a dress that your mother had pieced together and sent you for your “big night”—that was fashionable for the time but in a sleek shade of black that matched the rest of your tuxedo and with a white band around the hem, paired with a sheer stocking of a plaid pattern and low-heeled shoes that you would return to the shop tomorrow. Finally, for a little touch of color and a little for pop, a golden bejeweled broach was pinned to a crimson pocket square poked out of the chest pocket of your tuxedo jacket, golden geometric earrings hung from your lobes, and a couple of bejeweled bracelets and rings in the same colors adorned your hands. You wore bright, unglossed lipstick and nail polish to match, despite that not being in fashion. Luckily everything still seemed in order.

Wanda gave an exaggerated shrug as you walked back over to your instrument trunk. “Nowhere to be found, like he vanished!”

As if summoned, Vision came wobbling around the corner and up the steps. Well, he almost did; it took him two tries to get up the steps without falling back down.

“Oh, is that him?” Geraldine asked, her face twisting into a look of concern. “Looks like he’s gots a little hitch in his giddyup. Whoa!”

You twisted around, ukulele in hand to check if it was tuned, just as Vision was making it upstairs the second time. You smiled, quirking an eyebrow, only to stumble as the British man threw his arm around you to steady himself. 

“Wanda, my little cabbage, you look smashing!” Vision exclaimed, his words slurring together just slightly. He began swaying and decided to lean almost his full weight on you; when you grunted and moved the instrument you were holding out of the danger zone of getting smacked is when Vision appeared to notice that he was balancing against a person instead of the railing by the stairs. He leaned his face closer and squinted at you—now that you weren’t concerned about going onstage immediately, it was significantly easier to get flustered by Vision and his, yes, absolutely smashing wife—then grinned and said, “Why it’s [Y/N] too, and looking equally as ravishing!”

You tried to keep yourself in check. “Heya cool head, not your wife. That being said, I’d say you look smashing yourself but you just seem positively smashed.”

“Oh, I know,” Vision replied, “I already told her that she looked nice. You heard me right, honey?” He went from so close to your face that his bangs were getting in your eye to only a hand gripping your shoulder as he flung his limbs wide, which was apparently a necessary move to look at his wife’s face.

You gave Wanda a look that was equal parts worried and amused. The look she returned was just worried. 

Wanda walked over to you and helped maneuver you out of Vision’s grip so you could continue tuning your ukulele—actually, it was Vision’s that you were borrowing—then tugged her husband so you were at least a couple feet out of reach. “Vis, where have you been?”

“Oh, uh… me and the boys were playing a rather thrilling game of horses and shoes,” Vision responded, talking in a way that sounded like he was trying to talk under his breath while still speaking at full volume. “No, wait, that’s not it. Shoe horses! Oh, hrn… Ah! Horse’s shoes!” He put two thumbs up and smiled lopsidedly, clearly pleased with himself.

“Horseshoes,” you offered from your corner by the railing. You were done playing with the ukulele and checked to make sure your tambourine was safe and sound.

“Oh, yes!” Vision was his thumbs up towards you, both arms stretched out as far as they could reach. “Brilliant, you’re absolutely brilliant, [Y/N]! Aren’t they brilliant, Wanda, very brilliant and very nice-looking?” 

“Well, uh, yes, I suppose,” Wanda agreed awkwardly, glancing over at you before pulling Vision back to face her; you swore you even saw her cheeks turn a shade darker. “Listen, something strange happened with Dottie.”

You were too busy biting back a smile to hear the rest of the conversation. You rearranged your hat and jacket back into place from Vision knocking them askew, then brushed any wrinkles out of your skirt. You glanced over at Geraldine, who was peeking through the curtains at the main part of the stage.

“I was just playing with his shoes!” Vision suddenly hollered, as the members of the previous act, including someone dressed in a horse costume, made their way around the stage.

“What is going on?” Wanda cried.

Geraldine responded in kind, “You are!”

You considered taking their places so Wanda had time to knock some sense into her husband but you knew if you went out now, you would sound like fingers on a chalkboard, and going out on stage at all was bad enough. Instead, you walked over and gave the couple an encouraging pat on the shoulder and a “Good luck!” before making your way down the steps and around to the viewing area to find a place to sit.

Dottie was onstage. Her hand seemed fine now. “I want to thank you all for coming out to support Westview Elementary, for the children.”

“For the children,” the crowd echoed, mostly deadpan.

“I have yet to see a child,” you stated at the same time, sitting back in an extra chair off to the side of the stage as to not annoy audience members with the vocal warmups you were about to start doing.

Dottie continued, “And for our final act—”

Geraldine scurried out from behind the curtains at muttered something in Dottie’s ear before rushing away again.

Dottie quickly picked you on the sidelines and gave a strained smile, although the daggers she was glaring made you sink down in your chair. “Sorry, everyone. For our next to final act, I give you Wanda and Vision.”

Wanda sauntered out from behind the curtains and down to the front of the stage, then planted herself slightly off to the side and threw one hand up as an entrance cue to Vision. At first, he didn’t appear and Wanda’s bravado faltered slightly as she looked out into the crowd.

You caught her eye and gave her an assuring nod.

Then Vision flying out of curtains and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Hello Westview! Good afternoon!” Still introducing, he stumbled down to the main part of the stage, bumping into a railing at some point and apologizing to it. He sort of settled and continued, “I am Glamour and this is my delightful assistant Illusion.”

“I am Glamour,” Wanda chimed in, talking and moving with even more animation than she normally would, “and he’s Illusion.”

“Yeah, what she said,” Vision said simply, then rambled on, “Tonight, we will lie to you, and yet you will believe our little deceptions because human beings are easily fooled due to their limited understanding of the inner workings of the universe.” He ended this definitely off-script statement with a matter-of-fact shrug and nod. 

You regretted not going on first.

“Flourish!” Vision suddenly hollered, waving his hands in such a way. 

This was going to be chaos, you decided, and it was.

Wanda and Vision’s act was a mess but at least it was an entertaining one. While the act did go on, Vision spent most of his time prattling on and yelling “Flourish!” while Wanda tried to keep things in check. Some of the tricks were good and even impressive at times before the “inner workings of the universe” became clear moments later. Vision’s first trick was to float up into the air, only for a pulley system to be revealed as Wanda moved a sign offstage. For the second, he picked up a piano with one hand only for the jarringly realistic instrument only for Wanda to slip up while carrying the one-dimensional prop away and show its bare wooden back with a large handle to grasp. 

At one point, though, Vision trotted offstage and tried to perform a card trick for a friend while Wanda was helpless to stop him, but the end result was him going through an entire deck of cards trying to find the correct one. Then he went to pull Señor Scratchy out of his hat, only to find his hat laying on stage and Agnes’s rabbit hopping across it until Wanda managed to catch him and take him backstage. 

Regardless of which tricks hit and which went wonky, the crowd, you included, seemed to love the Maximoff duo and hung onto the entire act. There were gasps and awes and you were personally still dumbfounded by the one where Vision pulled a hat through his body; the backstage curtains happened to fall at the perfect time to reveal a multitude of mirrors, only one of which that you knew had been back there previously, but a dull throb in the back of your head warned you to just let the mystery slide. After all, it wasn’t as fun if you spent the entire show pondering.

For Vision and Wanda’s final trick, Wanda brought out a large box called the Cabinet of Mysteries. At first, Vision stated that he was going to make his wife disappear but then he started locking up the Cabinet without her inside.

You caught Wanda’s act begin to slip again as her smile faltered and she began scanning the crowd. No else did, though, because Agnes suddenly hollered an offer of audience participation in the form of her husband, which caused everyone including Vision to laugh.

Then Vision was back to his trick, slapping the Cabinet’s side with a plastic wand and yelling, “Abrakadabra!” 

“Uh, sweetheart,” Wanda murmured without breaking her pose.

Vision responded loudly, “Yeah?”

“Hi.”

“Oh.”

There was an awkward pause and you chewed your lip as you glanced around. People were waiting for the finale and Vision had just messed it up big time.

A chant of “What’s in the box?” started up.

Then you happened to look back to the stage just in time to make eye contact with Wanda as she looked around.

She grinned.

And then you were somewhere else, surrounded by darkness and wood panels.

You were only there for a moment but your eyes still needed a moment to adjust as Wanda and Vision open the Cabinet of Mysteries’ doors and you were greeted with a gasping and then applauding crowd. You blinked and, disoriented but not wanting to ruin Wanda and Vision’s successful grand finale, you put on your best smile and hopped out of the wooden box to strike a flourished pose.

“Ah-ha,” Vision voiced, seeming just as surprised as the crowd before grinning walking stepping up to your side.

Wanda stepped up to your other side and when you raised an eyebrow at her, she gave you a cheeky grin and mouthed, “Magic.” The wink she gave you afterward could have sent you to the moon but you still had your own performance to do. She made sure you were reminded of that by holding up a microphone.

Wanda and Vision each slipped an arm around your waist and you did the same to them despite their touch feeling very warm underneath the jacket of your uniform, and with one last “Flourish!” from Vision, the three of you bowed.     The three of you bowed two more times before standing fully again. Wanda and Vision began to move away from you but you slid your arms to grab their own, keeping them there.

Wanda leaned in slightly, talking through her smile. “What are you doing?”

“Grab the tambourine in my trunk and go sit by Agnes. Ask her to inform you and wait for the cue.” When Wanda looked at you with a raised brow, you mimicked her cheeky grin and wink, mouthing, “Music.”

Vision leaned in now, although way too close. “What are we doing?”

“Tambourine, apparently,” Wanda responded, stepping away from you. You figured they were going to go and do as you asked but instead, Wanda continued, “Vis, take the cabinet and grab the tambourine; I have an introduction to do.”

Vision stood around for a moment before doing what Wanda told him to and Wanda slipped her arm around your waist once more and brought you a few steps farther to the front of the stage.

Now sitting at the edge of it was Vision’s ukulele and the mic stand, probably courtesy of Geraldine.

With you close at her side and you unsure where to put your hands, Wanda attached the microphone she held to the stand and turned it on. “As Dottie has said several times tonight, thank you once more for coming to support Westview Elementary, for the children.”

“For the children,” the audience echoed, still mostly deadpan.

“I still haven’t seen a single one,” you muttered. This earned you a pinch to the hip from the hand around your waist and you suddenly felt like your body was the same temperature as the surface of the sun.

“Now,” Wanda continued without missing a beat, “allow me to introduce helper of Illusion and Glamour’s grand finale and the final final act of tonight’s talent show, [Y/N]!”

The audience clapped and Wanda did with it as she detached from your side and slipped backstage after giving you an electric smile. Suddenly, you were much more aware of being on a stage in front of your entire town, save for the two people you actually wanted to see in it.

“Um, yes, hello,” you said into the mic, standing a little too close. You didn’t know it was possible to feel the amount of heat burning behind your cheeks and ears, and you wished to could shed your jacket but figured that would ruin the ensemble. You shook your head to clear it as you bent down to pick up your ukulele—

—and when you stood back up, you spotted Wanda and Vision—who seemed to have sobered up somehow—sitting at Agnes’s table with a tambourine on the table between them.

You bit back a smile as your gaze flitted between them; they each gave you a smile in turn before you continued, “Um, so, as you heard, I am the final act. My name is [Y/N] and I will be performing a song, “Can’t Take My Eyes off You” by Frankie Valli, acoustic on ukulele.”

You strummed the ukulele once, just to make sure it was still in tune, then you began to play. You leaned back from the mic to clear your throat and after a couple of bars, you came in:

“You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

You'd be like Heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much

At long last, love has arrived

And I thank God I'm alive

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

Pardon the way that I stare

There's nothin' else to compare

The sight of you leaves me weak

There are no words left to speak

But if you feel like I feel

Please let me know that it's real

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you”

    You were a bit pitchy in the beginning but it didn’t take you too long to find where you needed to be, then it was smooth sailing from there; you even put a bit of a beat into it with a tap of your foot, which with a hard heel on a wooden floor in front of a silent crowd wasn’t too difficult to hear. At first, you kept your gaze pointed directly ahead and slightly above the crowd but as you began to relax and get into it, you couldn’t help but catch glances of a tapping foot here or a finger tapping on a glass cup there. Finally, your eyes drifted to where they wanted to be and you couldn’t look away from the pair seated next to Agnes even if you’d wanted to.

Vision was bopping along as he would when he was teaching you the chords and notes you were looking for, both feet and all ten fingers tapping, though his smile was particularly bright. Wanda was looking at you some type of sweet way, with that soft expression she’d had when you’d caught her in a dip earlier just today. 

“I love you, baby

And if it's quite alright

I need you, baby

To warm the lonely night

I love you, baby

Trust in me when I say

Oh, pretty baby

Don't bring me down, I pray

Oh, pretty baby

Now that I've found you, stay

And let me love you, baby

Let me love you”

        You wanted the first part of the song to be softer but as you hit the second part of the chorus you smoothly added in a little action. You put a little flourish in your strumming—and almost missed a word because the idea of calling it a flourish made you almost laugh—added a little more power to your voice, and cued Agnes in, who began clapping along to the proper beat. It didn’t take too long for your audience, especially those who’d you caught tapping along earlier, to join in until the entire crowd was doing it, and happened you catch Vision’s eye while he clapping along a little more animated than everyone else. He grinned, a little bashful by the look of it. 

    Once she’d gotten everyone in, Agnes stopped clapping herself and instead pulled a tambourine of her own out of her handbag. You watched her nudge Wanda, who stopped her clapping and picked up the other tambourine, then followed Agnes’s lead until she got a hang of it. You’d think two tambourines would be a little hard to hear over a sea of clapping but it was Agnes and Wanda and as usual, they figured out a way. 

    You knew you’d chosen a popular song and you knew that some people would know it in full but despite Agnes trying to convince you that she’d have everyone joining in, you definitely didn’t expect the entire crowd to be able to stay in sync and follow the ebbs and flows of the entire song. It really was a bit of a magical moment and you found with that thought, you found your eyes settling on Wanda, who was jamming away on her tambourine and dancing in her seat, without missing a beat.

    She must have noticed because she raised her head and looked back at you.

    The song ended not long after and you couldn’t help clapping for the crowd as they did for you. You took your second set of bows on stage that day, hollered a “Thank you” to the crowd, and took off to the section of backstage that was still hidden by curtains with a wave as Dottie took your place to do the talent show’s conclusion. With layers of dark fabric now between you and the rest of the talent show, you could only hear muffled voices, which was perfectly fine with you as you were too busy tossing your tux jacket and hat aside and shaking out the tautness in your limbs caused by the nerves of performing on your own in front of a decently sized crowd. Although, technically, you and the crowd were performing by the end of it.

    You tried to tune in to Dottie’s voice as you bounced over to look yourself over in one of the mirrors left over from Vision and Wanda’s performance. Your outfit was intact, albeit a little bit ruffled from the dancing around you just finished doing, with your hair looking a bit flat from being stuck under a hat. Your face was flushed with a warmth that you felt from your toes to your hairline but what little makeup you wore looked just as it did earlier minus your lipstick having faded somewhat. The best and worst part of your current state, you thought, came from that part; the smile you were wearing was radiant but it was lasting so long that your cheeks were starting to hurt, and even if you purposely tried to frown it away, it popped back up a few seconds later.

    Especially when you thought about how much Wanda and Vision were enjoying themselves, because of you.

    “Um, excuse me.”

    Your gaze turned its attention to look at the reflection of Geraldine, who was standing behind you, in the mirror. “Oh, hey.”

    She smiled, pleased that you didn’t seem disrupted. “Your singing was really twitchin’, you had the whole crowd into it!”

    “I think that was more Agnes’s glaring than anything, but thanks.” You sent a less starstruck smile at her in the mirror, then picked up your hat to fan yourself as you turned around to face her.

    “Agnes is way out herself,” Geraldine agreed, though you saw her smile falter and caught her fingers tapping nervously on the clipboard she held. “She could probably out-power Dottie if she really wanted to.”

    “She doesn’t,” you affirmed, “she likes to use Dottie as a reason to sneak drinks into social gatherings too much.”

    Geraldine smiled again but she wouldn’t fully look at you and when she did, her eyes looked like they were searching for something.

    “You okay?” When Geraldine looked at you, surprised, you nodded to her hands that couldn’t seem to keep still. “Seem a little unglued and you keep looking at me funny.”

    “Oh, uh, well,” Geraldine stammered a bit, then stopped. She took a deep breath, then tried again, “I know we saw each other at Dottie’s earlier and before you went onstage but… Do you know me?”

    Your eyebrows rose high up on your forehead. 

    “It’s just,” she continued, sounding like she was forcing herself to talk slower, “you look familiar to me and I’m wondering if you think the same thing.”

    “I… I suppose I did when I first saw you,” you said, setting your hat aside. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, you couldn’t help glancing around; specifically, you looked towards the curtains separating you and Geraldine from the outside world and wished that wasn’t the case. “I figured we’d met in passing, tooling or something.”

    When you looked back at Geraldine, it was as if your personalities had changed. You were the meek one, shifting around unsettled, while she stood watching you with a thoughtfulness that was far from the nervousness you saw in her earlier. “I don’t know where I’m from or why I’m here. Do you?”

    You couldn’t be sure whether she was asking you about yourself or her but your head was suddenly too foggy to care. Foggy and throbbing with a pain that made darkness tinge the corners of your vision. You went to step to the side and steady yourself on a nearby chair but found yourself reeling backwards. You smashed into the mirror behind you, which smashed into the wall behind it and shattered; you managed to stumble away from it before you got too badly hurt but you still felt shocks of pain up your right arm and a particularly bad one in your hand as you caught glass.

Before you could run into something else or completely lose balance and fall to the ground, you slowly maneuvered to the floor and braced yourself on one knee and your unharmed hand and you were vaguely aware that Geraldine had disappeared. You squinted through blurriness at your other arm and watched as spots of blood bloomed across the white fabric of your sleeve, weeped from the gash across your palm.

No, wait.

Not only blood but color spread out your bleeding wounds. Flesh tone bled from your palm and color wetted the jewels on your bracelets and rings, color seeped from a tattered tear in your shirt and faded into the wooden floor in your line of vision, as if everything was on one piece of paper and watercolor paint was bleeding across the lines of a sketch.

“[Y/N?]” Vision’s voice called, “Are you back here?”

You tried to hide your hurt arm behind your back and jerked your head in the direction of voices getting closer. You immediately regretted the sudden movement and tried to blink away pain—

When you opened your eyes, you were standing, completely fine, in front of the mirror, completely unbroken, and fanning yourself with your hat with your other arm, completely unharmed, at your side. When your eyes flitted around, looking for Geraldine in the mirror’s reflection, she was nowhere backstage.

Instead, your eyes settled on Vision and Wanda walking through the curtains, smiling and animatedly chatting and holding a small trophy between them.

Once they were through the fabric they looked around, Vision’s bright eyes settling on you just a moment before Wanda’s did.

You could have melted. Whatever concern or worries you had just a moment earlier certainly did. 

“[Y/N],” Wanda beamed, “look at what we won!” She pointed and Vision raised the trophy for you to properly see; you managed to read “Inaugural Comedy Performance of the Year” etched into its base before the pair walked over.

You turned to meet them, placing your hat back on your head and snagging your tuxedo jacket to slip back into. “A trophy, congrats!”

“We tried to get you to come up on stage with us,” Vision said, “but we couldn’t find you!”

He certainly seemed to have sobered up since you last stood face to face with him.

You apologized, “Sorry, I had to come backstage. I was overheated and far too overwhelmed by the crowd, I don’t think I could have it up there again either way!”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Her expression shifted from proud to worried in a moment and she went to press a hand to your forehead before she seemed to decide against it. “Are you feeling any better?”

You felt the need to take a quick glance around backstage, though you couldn’t explain why. Then you nodded. “I am, much. Actually, since I wasn’t able to join you on stage and congratulate you there, how about we all get changed into clothes a little less eye-catching and we have dinner at my place, hm? I’ll cook and everything.”

“They can cook?” Vision teased to Wanda without lowering his voice at all.

“They can,” you responded, giving his side a quick jab, then smiled and slid around them. Stopping at the edge of the stage, you offered out your arms to them both. “At least a little bit. Shall we?” 

Wanda faked a thinking pose and when Vision caught on he did the same.

“We-ell,” Wanda sang, tilting her head from side to side, “Oh, alright, we shall.” She walked over, tugging Vision along with her, and they each linked arms with you.

    The three of you headed offstage. 

    “I disagree about changing, though,” Vision claimed suddenly; both you and Wanda gave him a look. “I think we all look—”

    “Smashing?” offered Wanda.

    “Ravishing?” you suggested.

    “—absolutely neato,” Vision finished, nodding. “And I think we should show off to the town!”

    You shook your head but you were smiling. “I already showed off to the town enough today.”

    “And I’m still showing off too much,” Wanda agreed. She kicked one stocking-covered leg out for good measure.

    “Oh, fine.” Vision scoffed. 

    He certainly did not admit defeat, though, and spent the rest of the walk home trying to convince the two of you.

    Wanda and Vision, without his human disguise, danced into their home after a lovely dinner at [Y/N]’s—they could cook a bit!—and as they walked through the door, Wanda spun herself into Vision’s arm.

    Vision slightly dipped her and said in a voice that was an octave or two lower, “You were tremendous Glamour.”

    “As were you, Illusion,” Wanda responded with a pearly smile. She stood up straight and walked over to put their new trophy on the coffee table as Vision shut the front door. “Oh, I don’t know what I was so worried about. It wasn’t so hard to fit in after all!”

    Wanda sat and got comfortable on the couch and Vision soon followed. “And all we had to do was be ourselves.”

    “Well, with a few modifications,” Wanda said as she curled in closer under her husband’s arm.

    “And it was all for the children,” Vision said. Halfway through the phrase, Wanda joined in, then they chuckled and gently bumped their foreheads together.

    Then Wanda leaned back into the couch and Vision’s side, quiet. She glanced around the room, absentmindedly playing with Vision’s fingers.

    “Wanda, darling, is something wrong?”

    Vision’s voice brought her attention back to him. She smiled, leaned in, and gave him a peck on the lips, then looked at their joined hands. Her smile faltered; she felt like something was missing.

    “[Y/N] made this funny point at the talent show, about the ‘for the children’ thing; ‘I haven’t seen one yet’ or something like it,” she said out of the blue. “They were an angel with me today.”

    “Oh?” Vision responded softly. He seemed to cue into her befuddled emotions and leaned back, looking at her intently. 

    “At Dottie’s,” she clarified, then added, “They also walked me home because I was a little shaken up. Very sweet.”

    “That’s right,” Vision said, “You said something strange happened at Dottie’s today?”

    “More like a few weird things,” Wanda confirmed, then recounted the details. Most of them anyway; she kept out the part about the radio talking to her for the sake of her and Vision’s sanity. It sounded legitimately insane and was probably the result of her fear at the time making her imagine things.

    Then again, Dottie had heard it as well… She couldn’t confirm that [Y/N] had.

    “My, that is indeed bizarre,” Vision said. His hairless brow furrowed. “Is Dottie alright?”

    “Well, she must be,” Wanda replied, “She was perfectly fine at the show today and didn’t say a word about it, so…”

    Vision gave a thoughtful nod, then shrugged. “Must be.”

    They both faded into cozy, albeit wondering, silence. Wanda began playing with Vision’s fingers again and she happened to look towards the front door.

    “Hey Vis?”

    “Hm?”

    “Do you think [Y/N]’s attractive?”

    Vision took in an unneeded breath so fast that he almost choked on his tongue. He spluttered, “Pardon?”

    “You know,” Wanda continued, turning back in his direction but not looking at him, “A fox. A hunk. Ravishing.”

    If Vision could blush he probably would have. He removed his arm from around Wanda’s shoulders and scratched the side of his face. “I was feeling weird when I said that. You know, the gum. I didn’t mean—well that’s not to say they’re not attractive either! Because they are. I mean, they look fine, I certainly wouldn’t say unattractive by any means, and I quite like their company. But love, I didn’t mean anything serious by it, I didn’t mean to offend—”

    “I think they’re attractive,” Wanda stated simply, bringing Vision’s rambling to a quick halt. Her gaze drifted back towards the front door and she briefly used her magic to view the home across the street. Some of the lights were still on; she imagined their dinner companion was in the kitchen, washing up the dishes from their meal.

    She wouldn’t mind cooking with [Y/N] or washing dishes with them after meals. Or having both Vision and them coming home in the evenings. 

    “Oh. Um, well… Oh?”

    “Quite like their company too,” Wanda went on, agreeing with one of Vision’s earlier statements. Her eyes moved to the plant [Y/N] had brought them not long after they’d first moved in; the plant had outgrown its old pot at this point but had its original ribbon still intact on the current one. “And they’ve always got manners and compliments and they’re always getting so nervous that they're going to come off the wrong way.”

    “Yes,” Vision said slowly, “They treat me the same way. Sometimes, if I’m not working, I’ll come to work the next day and have files on my desk with little notes clipped to them. And they’ll sometimes even bring me a snack or a water cup after coming back from their break or lunch, even though I’ve never even pretended to drink or eat in front of them.”

    “Well, to be fair,” Wanda said, “regular humans do just randomly eat and drink things, and they do think you’re a regular human.” 

    “I often wish they didn’t, though,” Vision mumbled, rubbing his jaw, “because I’m not a big fan of lying to them and pretending as I do. I keep their snacks in my drawer until I’m heading home and then throw it out on the way because I don’t want them to see and feel bad.”

    Wanda nodded, understanding. “I’m not exactly jazzed about lying to them either.” 

    They simultaneously sighed and slumped together.

    What odd feelings, Wanda thought, for a married couple to have about their neighbor across the street.

    “Wanda?”

    “Yes, dear?”

    “Do you feel the same way about them as you do me?”

    Wanda tilted her head from side to side and tapped her chin as she thought. “Not how I feel about you now, no. But how I felt about when I first met you? Maybe. Or, at least, something like it.”

    Vision hummed. “They feel a bit familiar, don’t they?”

    “And we have such a good time together, the three of us,” Wanda added.

    A small spell of silence again.

    Then Wanda said, “I think we should ask them on a date.”

    Vision almost choked on his tongue again. “You think we should— I mean— You and me? As you and me together or you and me separately?”

    “Why not both?”

    Wanda’s husband’s eyes bugged out of his head. If they weren’t in the middle of a serious conversation, she may have laughed.

    “Can we… Can we even do that?” Vision asked.

    “I mean, I don’t see why not,” Wanda answered, shrugging. “It’s not illegal to date another person. Just marry them, I think. Actually, I’m not even sure if it’s illegal to do that.”

    “But isn’t that… An affair? Of sorts?” Vision squinted, quickly glancing between his wife and the window, whose curtains shielded his view from the person in question’s home. It almost felt disrespectful talking about [Y/N] without them present, which was odd in itself. 

    “No, not if we’re both dating the person in question, I don’t think,” Wanda said. Her brows knitted together a bit but then she perked up and placed her hands on Vision’s thigh. “I know when we can do it!”

    “When?”

    “We forgot to get your ukulele back,” She responded with a big smile. “We can go get it and ask them on a date.”

    “What would we even do on a… three-way date?” Vision cringed at himself. He would never call them a three-way again.

    “Picnic,” Wanda offered, then listed off, “Dinner out. A walk. Trip to a passion pit for a movie. Dancing but that would require one of us to know how to dance. Maybe [Y/N] knows how to dance!”

    “I know how to dance,” Vision said with a scowl.

    “No, hon, you don’t, but you’re wonderful all the same,” Wanda said and kissed him on the nose. “Besides, the three of us have almost been attached at the hip since we’ve gotten to know each other; it wouldn’t exactly be odd for us to go out and do things together. Hell, we did the talent show together today and it went very well!”

    “The gum?”

    “It went decently well!”

    Wanda could see Vision warming up to the idea just as much as she was. She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to come up with dates fit for three people.

    After a moment, Vision gave her a solid nod. “Alright then! When we see them to get my ukulele, we’ll ask them on a date.”

    “Yay!” Wanda clapped. “A date!” She hopped up from her seat and, drifting back to their previous conversation, she said, “Well, I think the children need some popcorn!” Vision said her name and she spun back to look at him. “Hm, what?”

    Vision slowly stood and looked pointedly down at her stomach. She did too, then gasped and touched her ballooned out stomach. She looked as if she were a few months pregnant and after holding her stomach for a bit longer, she knew she was. Wanda looked up at her husband with a mixture of fear and wonder in her eyes; the look on his face mimicked her own.

    “Vision,” she said softly, “is this really happening?”

    Vision searched her face as he gently grasped her hands. His mouth quirked up just slightly as he answered, “Yes, my love, it’s really happening.”

    They leaned for a kiss.

    They were interrupted by a crash outside. 

    Both Wanda and Vision jumped as they looked towards the door. Then Vision scowled and released Wanda’s hands to walk over to the door.

    “If it’s that damn tree again,” he loudly grumbled, “I am going to… rip it out by the roots!”

    He walked outside and Wanda quickly followed.

    You jumped back from your sink, almost dropping a dish in shock from the crash that had just come out front. You couple a couple breaths to calm yourself, then put your dish and drying rag down and headed to the living room.

    “I swear,” you warned, loud enough so the trees outside could hear you, “I’ll come out there with a chainsaw! I don’t have one but I’ll find one and I’ll do it!”

    You walked to the front door. You peeled back the curtain hanging from its window to see Wanda and Vision—who looked strange, though it was too dark outside to tell why—walking outside their own home and out to the sidewalk. You watched them, debating on whether to walk outside as well and help investigate or not.

    “I don’t see anything!” you heard Wanda holler. Almost immediately, her and her husband’s gaze were drawn to a manhole cover in the middle of the street.

    You followed their gaze and your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as the three of you watched the manhole slowly move out of place. From the corner of your eye, you saw Vision closer to Wanda, and you wished you could too, but you were stuck watching as someone climbed out of the now gaping hole in the road.

    A… beekeeper?

    A beekeeper and swarm of bees climbed out of the manhole.

    You felt that now-familiar feeling again, foggy-headed but not in pain and fiercely protective of, this time, both her and her husband and her children.

    Children?

    You scrambled to get your front door open as the strange beekeeper of the sewer turned to look at the Maximoffs. You looked down to mess with the doorknob—

    When you looked up again, you were standing on the front porch of the Maximoff house.

    How weird. 

You spun and looked around wildly, your eyes settling on the manhole cover closed tightly shut it in the street for just a few seconds longer than the rest of the environment, but everything seemed in order. Slowly relaxing, you turned back to your task of returning Vision’s ukulele. 

You raised your right hand to knock, then stopped.

Color began blooming across your arm, beginning from the same spots you vaguely remembered cutting yourself on a broken mirror recently. This time, though, there were no cuts or blood, just gray tones coming to life in bright, vivid color. Gray turned to the color of skin and the green of your blouse—you’d thought it’d been green before but now you could properly see it—and when you spun around to observe the rest of the neighborhood, it was suddenly in color too. When you slowly, awestruck, turned back to Wanda and Vision’s house, it was wonderfully colored too, as was the ukulele in your lovely, now-in-color hand.

You grinned and excitedly knocked on the door, only for it to be opened moments later by Vision, wearing a very nice yellow and blue sweater or a white-colored shirt.

“Oh, [Y/N]!” He said it in a way that was a little too loud and he nervously glanced over his shoulder at Wanda, who stood a few feet back in a beautiful outfit of bright red with her hands on her expecting stomach.

You really did like her shirt.

You just liked her.

You just liked her and her husband quite a lot.

“Sorry, bad time?” You held out Vision’s ukulele to him. “I finished cleaning up and was about to go to bed when I noticed this still sitting on my coffee table.”

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Vision chirped, still just a little too loud than necessary.

“Oh, goodness, Vis, come inside.” Wanda walked over and nudged Vision out of the way, then smiled at you and took the ukulele out of your hand.

“Remember when we first met and you said he wasn’t always like that?” you quipped with a crooked smile, which broke into a cheek-hurting grin when Wanda giggled in response.

“Suppose I hadn’t realized it yet,” Wanda teased back. She offered the ukulele to Vision, who was still standing nearby and who was now pouting, then she moved to do the side. “Would you like to come in for a drink? We were just talking about you.”

Now you were the awkward one. “Um, yeah, sure.” You stepped inside and, glancing again at Wanda’s belly, added, “I can’t believe I forgot a baby gift. Congratulations, if I haven’t said it already.”

Wanda blinked, then shut the door behind you. “Oh nonsense. There’s plenty of time left for that.”

“I feel like it came out of nowhere; they might be here sooner than you think!”

[dangermousie]

CFC 105

1. XQC is bathing AGAIN. Good Lord, it’s just as well He Yu has plenty of money otherwise when he and HY are an official long term couple, the water bill would ruin them (or I suppose HY could slow down but we are not talking impossibilities hahaha.)

2. Honestly, XQC’s health is freaking me out. He’s feverish and barely standing and I am sorry, he and HY had fun a LOT last night but that should not make him utterly falling apart and debilitated and ill like that. He’s 32 not 82.

3. But the fact that he is actually relieved XX is not there so he can just allow himself to be ill and vulnerable and not put on a facade is heartbreaking. He is so alone. I really really need a scene where he’s not feeling well and HY takes care of him and he allows this and he is weak in front of someone and the world doesn’t end and he realizes he doesn’t have to hide it. And HY is honestly the only option for it because he has already see XQC vulnerable and he’s the only one who’s seen him without masks so subconsciously I think it would be easier for XQC to allow that and you know HY would take care of him!

4. XQC remembering HY’s confused and eager eyes that look like they can’y do without him and feeling suffocated - yessss you have some feelings for him, you feel bad for kicking puppydragon out YES. Though he’s far from realizing it of course - he’s terrible at recognizing his feelings, probably because he spent so long suppressing them.

5. Awwww, HY coming back the next day and XQC is not letting him in and HY is scratching on his door like a cat I AM DYING.

6. And HY is literally begging saying he wants to accompany him please let him in and he’s sick and is XQC’s fever better and XQC just keeps the door locked and turns up the music not to hear. I love it!!! Suffer, puppydragon, suffer! But HY is now begging and not threatening and I love that the power has shifted so and the fact that he’s concerned about XQC is YESSS and honestly, HY being a supplicant is the BEST. There needs to be a long-term power shift like that for XQC to emotionally get past the club and aftermath, honestly; which is a separate question from whether he’s emotionally ready for a relationship - the answer is no - but even if club and all the other awfulness did get past his facade and so made a relationship possible it made it impossible at the same time (not without a lot of growth and groveling and etc) because while XQC doesn’t actively fantasize about murdering HY any more, he has not gotten over it or forgiven him, nor should he.

7. Fucking hell, time has passed, no noise any more, so XQC assumes HY left, he opens the door, HY is still there, XQC slams the heavy door shut and HY doesn’t even bother to remove his fingers and gets them smashed and bleeding all to hell. Just reading this is making me curl my fingers in on themselves.

8. HY comes in and clings and a vase falls on him and now he’s bleeding on his shoulders and he doesn’t care Jesus at the rate you guys are going, your couple outfits are gonna be hospital gowns.

9. HY wanting to talk and XQC not wanting to listen is typical but also NECK KISSING OMG.

10. HY bringing club photos and XQC losing it and is all “I don’t care do whatever” and HY stammering out that what he wanted to say was that he deleted them and I love that bit where HY couldn’t tell XQC he liked him and he couldn’t apologize so all he could do is repeat that he deleted the pics.

11. And XQC just removes HY’s hand from his wrist and is all “oh really? should I kneel to you in gratitude?” YES YES XQC TELL HIM!!!! I love that Meatbun characters don’t magically get over things - like real people, if someone hurts them, they react and the more the hurt and the more the previous connection, the stronger and longer the negative reaction. Meatbun is not unique in having protags who do awful things, but she is almost unique in never glossing over that and holding them to account and making them earn their redemption and forgiveness, if any.

12. And HY just repeating XQC’s name because what else can he say - as the chapter points out, the more he saw him, the less courage he had to say his feelings because he knows what the reaction would be.

13. XQC killer sarcasm with going so what do you want to hear from me? OK, after doing so many beastly things, you finally decided to show some compassion and delete the photos, I thank you and my family thanks you, thank you for your kindness from the bottom of my heart. Ahahahahah I love love love that XQC’s tongue is sharp enough to kill.

14. XX is coming and of course HY, as always, makes sure to protect XQC’s privacy by buttoning his shirt and you know I just realized something I probably should have realized a long time ago - he was never gonna send these pics to anyone because he is incapable of sharing even this way and also he really does fiercely guard XQC’s privacy for a complicated mess of reasons from possessiveness to care to knowing that there are some lines he cannot cross and still have the world not explode.

15. HY’s explanations as to why they are disheveled (and bleeding, for him) are getting more and more hilarious ahahah. The only way nobody has guessed the truth is because it’s s inconceivable to them.

16. “Can the broken vase be restored?” Meatbun is NOT subtle with the symbolism of XX’s 6th grade vase being broken and XX’s point because that’s the thing - it doesn’t matter how sorry you are or how you offer to fix it, it doesn’t erase the past action at all and what broke is broke.

17. HY understanding that XQC doesn’t want his confession and won’t accept it and honestly never even wants to see him again. You reap what you sow, puppydragon, you reap what you sow! And you sowed enough to qualify as a Stakhanovite.