#so many people I worked with over the phone were put into more debt because of these people

[amaranthineghost]

NOW IM BACK IN OUR EMPTY APARTMENT, LOOKING AT THE PIECES I WISH WERE YOU ( max verstappen. )

max verstappen x reader

an imperfect relationship between world champion max verstappen and a busy college student now filled with more tension as he fails to hold his tongue after a disappointing race.

authors note: love writing for max, i might have to do it more!!!

HE DIDN'T MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. it snowballed into something he had imagined before but never would've expected it actually happening to him. he could normally control his temper, especially when it came to her. sure, there was a few moments that stood out in his career when he had gone over the limit on certain occasions, going as far as to push another driver, but he would always separate his home life and his career.

at least he would try to. the australian grand prix hadn't played out like he had wanted, or anyone for that matter, because no one wants their car to get fucked and have to retire. especially on the third lap, it was just embarrassing. he was struggling the entire weekend, though his spirits temporarily lifted when he had managed to get pole position. he knew he would, but after the struggles throughout the practice sessions, he hadn't been too sure.

he just wished she would've been there to see it, but she was stuck in their apartment with their cats, jimmy and sassy. she had to do her college work, that was due all too soon, before she could go running around to his races. despite being financially supported by her talented boyfriend, she wanted things to do when he wasn't around, and while school work wasn't exactly many people's cup of tea, it was hers.

she liked the possibilities that came with the experience and maybe one day, she could land a job that would put her in line with her beloved driver. sure, she loved visiting the paddock as a wag, but she would love it more from behind the scenes. of course dating a driver, she already gets to see more than the average person, but she wanted to do something worthwhile with her time in the paddock.

he understood, but he had the only condition of letting him pay for her schooling. debt wasn't fun, and he wouldn't let her fall into that burden. besides, max would love to be able to see his girl working hard in the paddock, but now he wasn‘t so sure if she was his anymore.

he was agitated, she was stressed, and they both knew they didn't mix. they should’ve just waited to see each other in person, but they were both missing each other at the time.

she watched the race on the tv in their bedroom with her laptop on her lap with her latest, big assignment due in the next few days. she was struggling, and she figured it was better to get as much time to work on it as possible so she opted out of flying to australia. still, she watched, hardly stressed, because she knew max was an amazing driver.

but come the race on sunday, his dnf shocked her. she was riddled with worry and part of her wished she had been there. maybe if she had been, this whole thing could’ve been avoided, but the stress she felt now would’ve only worsened had she been with him.

upon the smoke trailing out of his car, hearing the commentators say he had dropped positions, seeing the puff of smoke when his car rolled down the pit lane, the fire on his brake duct, she shut her laptop instantly. now she was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing the screen closely, phone on standby to call him after. she leaned her head on her hands while her elbows dug into her legs.

she watched his tense answers to the media, his uninterested attitude because she knew all he wanted to do was get to his driver's room for peace and sulking. she knew and yet she still made the mistake of calling him right after.

she hadn’t waited long for him to answer, but he didn’t answer right away. hearing no answer from his side of the phone, she spoke first.

“hey,” she spoke as gently and nicely as she could.

“hey.” his voice was short and straightforward, as if he didn’t care about anything she was going to say.

finding the right words to say was like walking on eggshells and there wasn't a lot of room to go. she just hoped she took a step in the right direction when she asked him, “how are you doing?”

“what do you think?” she sighed, biting at the inside of her cheek

“not great,” she muttered, he hummed back in response, which just made her even more unsure of her next words, “ ‘m sorry you has to retire from the race.”

“sorry doesn’t fix the car,” she heard him mumble under his breath, earning a scoff from her.

“excuse me?” her tone was like she had accused him of something, “i get you’re mad right now max, but that doesn’t mean you can be an asshole. i’m just trying to help.”

he scoffed back and she could feel the eye roll he would’ve given her, “yeah, well you're not.”

“what is wrong with you?” she stood up, anger coursing through her.

“i don’t know, maybe the fact that my race was fucked and now you’re bitching to me about my attitude.”

she hadn’t thought before speaking, in moments of high stress she just said whatever she felt, and so did he. what she felt right now was annoyance and anger, “fuck you max,” was all she could spit back, taking a deep breath being speaking again. “news flash, you’re not the only person in the world dealing with shit, it's one race that you got out on, grow up.”

with that she hung up, and he heard the dial tone from his phone, regret beginning to seep past his clothes and into his skin, his nerves, his brain. he just majorly fucked up the most important thing in his life because to him she was more important than his career points, the car, the championship, his entire career, and he just threw her aside in the height of his anger.

he tried calling back immediately after he realized what he had just done, but it had just gone straight to voicemail. when that all failed, he spammed texts, or paragraphs more like, about how sorry he was and how she didn’t deserve the attitude he gave her, but it did nothing.

she sat and watched as the texts and missed calls flooded in. while she understood he was angry, it didn’t give him the right to talk to her like that so she left her phone unanswered while she had gotten up to pack. in less than a few hours, she knew max would be back in this apartment, probably on his knees, begging for forgiveness from her. she knew she would forgive him the moment he did so she wanted to get away before he could.

it didn’t take long, she hadn’t packed her entire life away, but a single suitcase and carry-on bag was enough to last her until she decided to patch things over. taking one last look over her shoulder, one last pet of their cats before she had closed the door behind her. knocking on the apartment door of their neighbors to ask them to care for the felines like they did whenever he left for races and she went alongside him.

but in recent months, moreso in the 2023 season, she found herself attending fewer races than she used to because of the growing tension and stress between the pair. it didn't help that they didn't talk it through, they couldn't because they didn't have the time. she had college, he had formula one, and they both had no time to meet in the middle to amend whatever was broken before. whatever was broken remained as such and only cracked further as time went on and the pressure increased.

they knew they should've come together and met in the middle, but they were both petty and too stubborn. it was another reason they clashed, but they also just worked so well.

he was hoping this was going to be the one time they could've found that time to talk, to sit down and have a deep conversation that lasted hours, that they would've ended up getting side-tracked from and begun to talk about random topics, like they used to. laying on her back with her head in his lap and his fingers through her hair as they laughed at funny memories, or moments they had experienced together.

but when he came home to a quiet, empty apartment, he knew. he knew he shouldn't have hoped for something that was unlikely to happen. his cats rubbed against his legs as he walked about the apartment. dirty dishes that had yet to be washed sitting in the sink, blankets unfolded in the couch and doors left open. the air was stale without her presence and he was left to wallow in it. her absence was a sting against his skin as he kicked off his shoes, seeing a couple pairs less than what there usually was, hanging up his coat alone because hers were now gone.

everything was a reminder if how he had treated her, the words he spat like venom all because he had retired from a single race. he can't stop hearing her venomous last words to him, her tone was like he was the scum on the bottom of her shoe. he might’ve well have been because he sure felt like he was. a piece of trash for the way he spoke, granted he was angry, but he didn't have the right, he never would have the right to talk to her like that.

the floorboards creaked under him, cutting through the silence only interrupted by the sounds of his clothes brushing together as he walked. he peered into the various rooms of the house, seeing half the items she would normally have that had been left behind. pieces of her he was left to further sulk with.

it was cruel, but he understood cruel was what he deserved. he deserved seeing the messy, unmade bed that remained empty for hours after she left. covers pulled back like she had just gotten up to see him, except she hadn't.

she was gone, and he hadn't known where, or if she would even come back. he could only hope that she wished to mend their cracked and shattered relationship as much as he wanted now.

he could only hope.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @thearchieves

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[igotanidea]

that damn gala: Jason todd x fem!reader

the graphic is not mine, found it on Pinterest, all credit goes to the author.

Summary: credit for the idea goes to @p4inis: Can someone write a fanfic of “wear whatever u want, I know how to fight” Jason x fem reader???? Like they’re going to a gala and reader can’t choose which dress she should wear and Jay is her biggest hype man.

hope you'll like it: )

A/N: this is part of my Cheshire!reader!verse. You can find another story of it here in the post: Cheshire cat. And there will be more coming for sure since I'm having a lot of fun writing this verse.

Warning: cursing, a bit of sexual innuendo, but nothing explicit, Jason being a warning of himself :D

„Please, remind me why did I even agree to this?”

“Because you truly had no other option?”

“I hate you.”

“We both know you don’t.”

“Really? Do we?” Y/N smirked. Dick Grayson was her longtime friend and it gave her one privilege no one else had. She was resistant to him charm. So when he asked her to come over the annual Wayne gala it took a lot more than a pretty please and a nice smile to actually convince her to do so. Unlike many girls, she hated having to get all dressed up, putting on make-up and heels and acting like someone different than she really was only to win over some potential investors. Honestly, for a long time she couldn’t understand why was it her business. That lasted until Bruce offered her a job, an old RD position of her late father. Of course, the numbers were tempting but the thing was finally made her say yes was the opportunity to work with the latest technology and to put her ideas into work. And use them on patrols later on. So she gave in.

And soon one thing led to another, when she was forced to get involved into those stupid galas. Dick hated them equally as much, but at least he would be accompanied by Babs and they definitely would keep each other entertained. Unlike her friends, Y/N was going to be there by herself since for obvious reasons her beloved anti-hero boyfriend could not attend. So, she would either join Tim in deep conversation concerning Wayne Enterprises, sulk in the corner with Damian scaring people away with only look or spend the night getting drunk from all the expensive alcohol. One way or another it was going to be a loooong night.

“Yeah, we do. Come on Y/N, please, I’m gonna need your help you know it.”

“My help? Dick you are making zero sense. You will have your girl to dance with, Tim to take the duties and Damian for a security system. Why do you need me?”

“Because out of everyone you just mentioned, you are the only person that is actually fun.”

“Should I tell Babs about what you just said?” the girl laughed and heard Dick do the same on the other side of the phone.

“Please don’t” he turned deadly serious a second later “but you know what I mean. We both have known every guest for years now. We know their behavior, their bad traits and can predict who, when and how will make a fool of themselves. We have our inside jokes. Come on, please…..”

“Fine, stop whining, it’s out of character. I’ll come…..

“I knew you will give in at some point.”

“shut up, Grayson. I’m not giving in. Firstly because you will owe me and you know I’m not lenient when someone is in debt with me. Secondly, Jay will not like it, so good luck with having to deal with him. And lastly, I still got my cat claws on, so don’t expect me to be an egg-sucker.”

“As for the debts, that something we’ve been back and forth with for years now, so nothing new. I can deal with my brother, and Tim will deal with toadying, he’s used to it after all.”

“I hate you, Dick.”

“I know Y/n. See you at 9. You need me to pick you? Since you are coming alone?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Cheshire will swing by earlier and change in the manor if that’s fine.”

“I’ll leave the window open. See you, Y/n.”

“See you, Dick.”

She disconnected the phone and rubbed her forehead in frustration. She really though she would get away this year, but she’s been keeping this foolish hope for the last five years, always with no desired result. She always came and frankly it was never even half as bad as she expected, not that Y/N would ever say it out loud. But now, she had to choose a dress to go in and that was the hard part.

***

“Please, tell me you’re not preparing for the gala.” Jason stood in the door, only half-dressed In his gear, watching his girlfriend hurrying-scurrying in front of her wardrobe wearing only a sport bra and a pair of leggings.

“I am…” she groaned

“Was it Grayson? Did he force you? Do you want me to talk to him?” he took a few steps closer and grabbed her hands calming her down a bit.

“Nah. It’s fine. It’s always like this. He said I should come, I object, he uses his last-year arguments and I pretend to fall for them. It’s kind of tradition now. I would hate to break it.” She shrugged

“Maybe I can make knew tradition of making Dick attend the party with a bruise or…..”

“Stop it, Jay!” Y/N punched his shoulder and he grinned “if I really didn’t want to come, believe me I wouldn’t. But it really is entertaining making quiet jokes about all those bigwigs with excessive self-esteem and watching Tim trying his best to not speak his mind. The only thing that sucks about it is that I have to go alone” she moved her hands up his arms to his neck, pulling him in and he immediately grabbed her waist and leaned his forehead on hers, swaying from side to side.

“We can have our little party here. Or you can come with me to the patrol.” He whispered

“Mhm, don’t try to play me. That offer is a trap on your side, Red Hood only works alone. If you don’t count two teammates. And he does not want or need anyone else. Let alone little troublesome vigilante that also works with the bats.”

“That little vigilante cat knows her ways around words. She can play two sides, doesn’t she?”

“Jay, come on. You will never let me go with you and I will never ask. Too much of a risk and distraction. But I’m up for that party for two idea later on….”

“Do you have anything specific in mind?” he whispered seductively and leaned in to kiss her, but she quickly pulled away.

“Maybe. Maybe not. That depends if someone will take me home after the gala tonight. I mean, I have a couple dresses to choose from and I could use man’s advice on what to wear. Even if I absolutely hate the idea of playing the bait for man’s money. And I hate getting dolled up. I’ll be much more comfortable with tee and sweatpants or my suit. But I don’t have much opportunities to look nice, so…..” she pecked Jason lips quickly and moved towards the open wardrobe “what do you think, boyfriend?”

“Babe” every word she just said stung him. He knew she would never betray or cheat on him, but the thought of all those creeps staring at her and getting dirty ideas made him want to tie her to bed and keep her in the sheets with him, reminding her who’s the one to always keep her high and satisfied. But they all had duties to take care of. So he settled on embracing her from behind and kissing her neck softly “you know you can wear whatever you want. You will look hotter than hell. And I know how to fight if anyone would like to steal you away.”

“Babs is the resident beauty not me. If anything Dick should be scared. I’m only …. Addition.”

“Addition?” Jay kissed her neck again hitting her soft spot and making her gasp “you’re the crown jewel, babe. I wish I could go with you and watch everyone getting so jealous of me having you all to myself….” his lips on her skin was sending goosebumps all over her body.

“Jace….” She whispered closing her eyes

“Yes, sweetheart?” his grip was now tighter and she loved it and hate it at the same time.

“Let go of me. Now. Cause if you don’t neither me nor you will leave this apartment tonight.”

“Would it be so bad?” he muttered against her shoulder blade but reluctantly released her. “you should wear the black and red one. You will break necks in it.”

“Bet it has nothing to do with the fact some particular vigilante got those colors as a signature.”

“Vigilante? Who? I don’t really recall anyone choosing that palette.” He smirked with the boyish grin and she could not stop herself from kissing him again.

***  It was 8 when they both left the apartment, using different exits and wishing each other good luck. No hugs and kisses since that would only make them waver once again. Red Hood was on patrol while Cheshire made her way towards Wayne Manor making sure no one was following her. Being truthful to his words, Dick left the window open and without any trouble she found herself in his room, where much to her surprise she found Babs getting ready.

“Hey there, girl.” She smiled removing her domino mask and meeting with red-head wide and sincere smile “what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question, kitten. Is my boyfriend cheating on me?”

“Oh, you caught me! I only came here to tell him our little affair was over since I cannot do this to my best friend.” Y/N put her hand on her heart “And arguably because my boyfriend was after him to hurt him, but that’s on the side.”

“It’s good to see you Y/N.” Barbara smiled again and came to hug the other girl “dick told me you were going to get ready here so I thought we might as well help each other in preparation.”

“Oh, thank god for your foresight. I have no idea how to drape this freaking dress to avoid putting my whole chest on display.

“I had my suspicions about that.”

“And I am absolutely hopeless with makeup and hairdo, so yes, please and thank you for any help you can give me.”

“Don’t worry, my friend. I will make you look perfect.”

***

Barbara really was a magician with women stuff. Only because of her skillful hands and endless ideas Y/N was now looking like a real lady, classy and gentle, even if most of the times she was just a girl next door. Her dress fit her perfectly and any risk of showing too much was eliminated by cleverly used veil, draped on girl’s shoulder. Her make-up was almost invisible since Y/N had pretty skin (luckily she got no bruises or cuts for the last week so there was no problem with that) and she refused using anything more than some concealer, liner and mascara sticking to the minimum. Unlike Babs she ditched the lipstick not wanting to look like Joker after having one drink and leaving stains on the glass and all over. But still, she felt odd, especially standing next to Babs with her perfect figure and proud posture. Cheshire was used to skin tight suit that was supposed to protect her and enable all the kicks and punches, but this? Evening gown that accented all her hated curves and imperfections  made her feel exposed, not protected. And this was another tradition that was happening every single year even though after all this time she should already be used to it.

“good evening, ladies.” Dick emerged from behind and offered an arm to Barbara “Babs, Y/N.”

“Richard.” Babs smiled at her boyfriend

“Hello Grayson” Y/N smirked only to cover for her insecurity. In a second she would be left all alone like a prey while Dick and Babs will make rounds together.

“You look nervous kitten” Dick pointed out and Y/N scoffed

“Nervous? Of course I am. I’m nervous for the safety of everyone here. You know I got…..”

“claws, I know. And that is exactly why I took care of things.”

“I’m sorry you did what?” she nearly choked because of his words.

“There’s this one guy, really big fish in IT industry. We are trying to get him to share some ideas with WE. And since you are in a warlike mood, you will talk to him. Besides, you are the only one here that actually knows enough about the technology to cover the subject so…..”

“Are you insane?!” she yelled-whispered “did you even hear a word I told you about attending this gala. I wanted out of the radar not being put on the spotlight! What happened to…..” she paused when an elderly couple passed through and smiled charmingly “what happened to the inside jokes and making fun of people?!”

“I’m sorry Y/N, but it’s like I said. You’re the only one knowledgeable enough to succeed. Just this one guy, please, and then you are off the hook.”

“Where is Tim when you need him?” she hissed and reached for the nearest glass of champagne “I don’t think I can do it sober.”

“I will owe you twice” Dick pleaded

“That is tempting…..”

***

The guy assigned to Y/N was hot. Tall, dark haired and well-build, with perfect nose, lips and all face. His eyes glistened when he saw her approaching and in a real gentleman manner he turned towards the girl.

“You must be miss Y/N Y/L/N?” of course his smile was perfect as well and Y/N was almost blinded by the whiteness of his teeth

“I am” she smiled through gritted teeth “I suppose you’re the tech genius Mr. Blake?”

“ Please, call me Desmond. It would be so much easier to cut the distance this way”

“I see you are very direct Desmond. Does that match in the workplace?” he might have been a predator but she was the one who hold power over words, not the other way round.

“We are not in workplace, are we?”

“But we are supposed to discuss some RD matters.”

“Who said we can’t have a little fun while at it? This is a party after all.”

“High-class party, Mr. Blake and as a CEO you surely understand that.”

“Of course, I had nothing wrong on my mind. Tell me, miss Y/N, do you dance?”

“Only when I’m forced to” she muttered making sure he couldn’t hear her while taking another discreet sip of champagne

“I’m sorry?”

“I said I do, although I am not very good at it.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right partner. Let me guide you” he offered his hand and lead Y/N onto the dancefloor.

This was going to be a looooong night, she thought while noticing Dick and Babs moving to the music on her left. Dick put his thumb up while Barbara only smiled. This was already a torture. Hopefully, things were going better for Jay.

***

Two hours and three drinks later Desmond seemed a bit nicer than at the beginning. Y/N was not drunk, she was used to keep her senses alerted all the time so she poured away all the alcohol Desmond so wholeheartedly kept on bringing. He did not and that’s why they were now sitting on the secluded couch, far from the crowd, the man babbling about how pretty she looked and how much of his type she was.

“I think you had enough Mr. Blake” she put a hand on his when he reached towards another glass. Apparently that was a mistake since he turned her gaze towards her, his eyes widening.

“Tell me Y/N, why is a girl like you alone at the party? I mean, you are hot.” Oh, fuck. She knew where he was going now. “and everyone here is just ogling you, me included.” Fuck square since he moved closer, almost grabbing her hip.

“ You’re drunk” she said standing up “I think you should sober up. Alone.”

“Don’t you dare turning your back on me, you little bitch. Who do you think you are?”

If only he knew…..

“A woman who knows better than to argue with you. You work for your own reputation Mr. Blake and let me tell you, you are only embarrassing yourself right now. Maybe you should stop before some reporter takes a picture of you stumbling.”

“You think you are so high and mighty, huh? A strong, independent woman, working for Wayne? Acting like a whore to get some attention and you can’t even get a boyfriend?”

“Careful with words, now” she warned slowly turning into Cheshire

“Or what? What exactly will you do, huh? Cause I don’t think you will do a thing…..” he lunged forward and before she could react had her pressed onto the wall, his lips on hers “you are only good for one night stand. And you ask for it, wearing that dress, you little bitch. You only deserved to be fucked and forgotten.’ He was using the fact no one could see them in this place

“Get the fuck off me!!!” she yelled all her instincts kicking in when she pushed the man away and he stumbled back. Unfortunately, while doing so, he stepped onto the hem of her dress tearing it apart and leaving Y/N legs almost completely exposed. “Damn it.” She muttered turning red while the man started laughing like crazy which finally caught some attention and Dick immediately came running for rescue.

“What is going on here?”

“Your little wanton friend is finally dressed the way she should be from the beginning.” Blake snorted

“Mr Blake, I think you should leave….” Tim rushed from the other side of the ballroom scared that either his brother or his friend would kick the man’s ass and made even more of a scene. This was going to be a PR nightmare.

“Leave? Oh, no, no, no. Not before I have a little fun with your little rag doll, here.”

“Let me though.” Another voice interrupted the discussion and Y/N, Dick and Tim turned their gazes towards the side where it came from.

“You’ve got to be kidding me….” Dick whined

“Oh, hell no!” Tim screamed

“What the…..?” y/N said in surprise

“What. The fuck. You think. You are doing?”

“Jason…..” dick tried to step between his brother and Blake before it came to fisticuffs. All of a sudden the latter became much more sober than a second before.

“Get out of my way, Dickhead. This scumbag just humiliated my girlfriend. I will not let him get away with it.”

“I’m sorry but…..”

“You are not sorry.”

“You’re right. I’m not sorry and I can’t let you through. We are trying our best to avoid bloodbath here.”

“I don’t fucking care! He asked for it.”

“Jason.”

“Back off, replacement!”

“Jason.”

Only now he stopped in his tracks. Because of her voice. Her soft, calm voice. All this time she was standing there silently watching the scene, her dress torn apart , hair messy due to the scuffle, being her calm, collected self. Fuck, she was so beautiful, somewhere deep inside he could not blame this man for wanting her. Who wouldn’t wish for this beauty to be in his arms. But she was his and only his. Only he was allowed to hold her and kiss her and love her. No one fucking else. And this one here, were not only trying to force himself on her, but also called her a bitch and a whore. And that was something Jason Todd could not let go easily.

“Jason, please, let’s just go home.” She said calmly “come on, baby. Nothing happened, all right? He’s not worth your anger. He’s just sad, pathetic man with a lot of problems, apparently. I’m safe.”

“Baby” Jason came closer to her sneaking his arms around her pulling her close “he needs to be punished. He offended you. Let me  take care of that…..”

“Nope. Not this time. Besides, as much as I appreciate your effort, I can take care of myself and this one is just beyond are level. So why bother when we can go home and have that little party for two you mentioned earlier?” she caressed his side softly looking straight into his eyes and he was slowly melting.

“See? I told she is a whore! You better watch out for her, she will cheat on you with the first man…..” Blake did not get to finish the sentence when Dick and Jason grabbed each of his arm and dragged him out the door.

“This will hit all the headlines tomorrow morning….” Tim stammered out, his face as white as a ghost

“You can just buyout all the press companies in Gotham” Y/N said, equally white, but not because of the press.

“Are you kidding me now Y/N?!”

“Come on, Tim. Not the first PR drama for WE. We can turn this around. If not as Y/N and Tim then as Cheshire and Red Robin. We’ve done this before, all right?”

“Fine.” He huffed “One problem at the time. Now, are you all right? He did not hurt you, did he?”

“He could never. I’m better and stronger than it seems in this dress, or rather half-dress now.”

“Good. Otherwise I would have to stand against my own rules and help dick and Jason beat the man.”

“Speaking of the devils, this is taking them too long. Do you think maybe we should check out what is going on?”

“Nothing is going on. The boys are making sure Blake would never come around again. And from what I can predict his company will go down soon.” Barbara chimed in

“If that’s coming from the Oracle, who are we to argue?”

“By the way, where is Damian? He was supposed to act like security. How the hell did Jason sneak in? Not that I’m complaining, but I’d rather dance with my boyfriend than see him fight again ….”

“I was not the security! I never wanted to be here in the first place! I was forced!”

“Who wasn’t?” Tim scoffed

“You’re good Y/N/N?” Damian asked turning towards the girl

“Yes! God! I’m fine, please stop asking me that. I’m just a bit ….. tired.”

“You can stay at the manor than. There is always a place for you.”

“Thanks Dami, but…..”

“She is not going to stay. I’m taking her home.” Jason came into the view again, his nose bleeding.

“What did you do Jace?”

"I told you I know how to fight for you."

“Where is Dick?” Barbara became alerted and both girls exchanged looks

“I’m here. I’m fine. It’s all taken care off.” The oldest Wayne was clutching his bleeding nose as well.

“Did you two have a fight? How unsurprising…..”

"Wait, you beat each other instead of that fucking Blake?" Damian frowned "Can I do it then? I need some action, this party is boring like hell."

"He's been taken care of as well. Probably won't come around ever again" Jason stated proudly.

"What did you do him? Can you descibe in details?" the youngest brother suddenly became much more energetic and interested.

“I’m out, I’m done” Tim turned around throwing his hands in the air “you are all on your own now. I;ve got to do some damage control. See you tomorrow, Y/N. Remember your promise.” He left and so did Damian leaving Jason, y/n, Babs and Dick alone.

“Why did you beat him Jace?”

“He was supposed to watch out for you!”

“I said I’m fine!”

“But who knows what could have happened?!”

“could have, would have, should have….. How about we stop with the possibilities that never came to life, hm? How about you calm down, Jace?”

“How can I calm down?! You could have been hurt!”

“Dick? Babs? I’m so terribly sorry for everything that just happened.” Y/N decided to stop paying attention to Jason for a while.

“As much as I hate to say it, it might have been a bit of my fault.” Dick admitted

“a bit?!”

“Shut up Jason. I’m not talking to you now!” Y/N hissed and he just stood there with open mouth but did not dare saying a word. “I think we should call it a night, do you agree, Babs. We can’t let boys kill each other, right? Someone has to be smart.”

“Yeah, that’s true. We can’t ever rely on them with life choices, can we?”

“Nope. But I guess that’s the Wayne charm. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Sure y/n. I’ll let you know if dick’s coming after Jay to take revenge for the beating.”

“Ok. I’ll let you know if Jace is coming after Dick to avenge my honor” Y/N laughed and waved Babs and Dick goodbye before turning to Jason. “As for you….”

“Look, I did not mean to make a scene…..”

“Jay….”

“I saw you in danger and acted without thinking…..”

“Jason….”

“You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you…..”

“Oh for god’s sake!” she moved forward and cut his babbling with a passionate kiss taking him by surprise and leaving a few spare seconds for his brain to react and started kissing her back, his hands travelling up her sides. “I love you, you idiot. And I’m not mad at you, really. That was kind of…. Hot.”

“Only kind of?” he smirked

“Yes, because you still think I cannot take care of myself. You really don’t have to put  the guns out every time you think I’m in danger. Especially when I’m not.”

“but you still like me in my vigilante mode, don’t you?”

 “I never said it.” She scoffed

“Sometimes, words are not needed. I can settle on sounds.” He smirked and she smacked his head becoming red.

“Why are you even here? What about patrol? What about….red’s matters?”

“It’s a quiet night. I was patrolling nearby by accident….

“by accident?” she raised an eyebrow

“And thought I would swing by. And you know the rest.”

‘You are a child, Jason. A big child. And we definitely have a lot to work on in that area. Are you going back on patrol?”

“I wasn’t planning on, but…..”

“Good. Cause you know, I might be a bit turned on and need someone to take care of that. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Let’s go upstairs.” He picked her up and carried her the stairs to his old room, bridal style.

“Wait, here?!” she squealed when he threw her onto the bed and climbed up hovering over her body.

“Do you think I can wait? Honey, I need you right now.” He pressed his lips onto her, delighting in the way she melted into him and started letting out those sweets sounds. “now we can start our party” he smirked moving down her body, removing the straps of her dress and taking care of each square centimeter of her body.

“Jason….” she moaned arching her back “come on, don’t tease…..”

“I’m taking my time with you, babe. You will have to deal with it….”

@pinksirensong @somest1 - let me know if anyone wants a tag in any of my stories

[fereldanwench]

A Personal, and Final, Reflection on A Certain Fandom

Having spent the past week and a half away from the Tumblr side of the C*b*rp*nk community after a resurgence of old wank (not hashing out the details–IYKYK), I heavily weighed the pros and cons of saying anything else. Ultimately, I decided for my own peace of mind and ability to fully move forward, I do want to say a few things (or a lot of things, given how long this is). This blog is my personal archive first and foremost, and I think writing a “final chapter” will help me find closure. I’m also choosing to publish this because, at the risk of sounding presumptuous, I think my mistakes and subsequent revelations might be good learning experiences for others, too. 

Like many of us, just by the nature of when this game was released, I entered this fandom during a very fragile, tumultuous time in my life–Well, sort of, let me back it up a little: I actually initially entered it during a great time in my life. It was July 2021, I had just enjoyed about 6 weeks off from work after quitting a demanding job that had sucked the life out of me for almost 10 years, and I had started a promising new job. I even bought the game with the first paycheck from said new job!

Unfortunately, while I had been told that this position was temp-to-hire, not only was it not a path to a permanent role, but because I completed all the work in my contract over a month sooner than they anticipated (early September vs late October), I was being let go early because they had nothing else for me to work on. I was literally told over the phone, “You did amazing work, you got us caught up through November, but we don’t have anything else for you.”

Cue about 6 months of recruiters ghosting me, exhausting interview processes, demoralizing rejections, and scam upon scam upon scam, all culminating in me returning to the job I had been so happy to leave a year earlier. And while my old coworkers were ecstatic to have me back, I couldn’t help but feel like a complete failure. I took what I thought was a calculated risk, I thought I could do something better for myself, and I couldn’t. It’s something I’m still struggling with today, honestly.

On top of this, I also experienced a debilitating physical health episode in January 2022 which led to me being effectively bedridden for about 3 weeks. [CW: Menstruation, sexual health] I’m not sure of the exact cause–maybe a bad reaction to emergency contraception, maybe unsafe menstrual underwear, but it resulted in menorrhagia so severe I fainted from blood loss. My insurance had literally just ended, another wave of COVID was hitting, and I didn’t want to risk getting infected sitting in an ER for hours only to rack up a few thousand in debt to get a blood transfusion. So rest, iron supplements, and lots of meat and spinach and orange juice was the best I could do.

All of this led to my world becoming very small. I wasn’t working, I could barely do my hobbies or see my local friends, and simple everyday tasks like showering drained me of all my energy. When I was stuck in bed and could barely keep my eyes open for more than a few hours at a time, gossip was a welcome, low-effort distraction from the physical pain and fear that I might either have to put myself in thousands of dollars of medical debt or risk lifelong damage (or worse) from the blood loss.

I also found myself having groups of friends in a way I’ve never experienced before. I’m extremely introverted (even online, though less so than IRL), I have social anxiety, and the handful of times I have been “in” a group I was never really in it. I was always on the outskirts and usually just close to one or two people, max.

Regretfully, this set the stage for me to get caught up in the culture of rumors and speculation that permeates this fandom more than I think it has any other fandom I’ve been a part of.

Academically, I know about things like groupthink and tribalism, and I could see how those influenced the groups developing in the fandom, but I had no direct, personal experience with those phenomena. I think in conjunction with the other struggles I was dealing with, I ended up being incredibly susceptible to an us-versus-them mentality, which led me to feel justified in being unkind to people I knew had been unkind to my friends, even if deep down I knew what I was doing was antithetical to who I strive to be. 

I don’t share any of this for sympathy points or to smear anyone else or to avoid accountability–I still chose to act like an ass on a couple of occasions, and regardless of what I was going through, that was still inappropriate. I’m still responsible for my own behavior no matter what’s going on. 

But I do want to contextualize my fuck-ups for two reasons:

The first reason is ego-driven, full-stop. Not even gonna gloss it over. I can’t defend being an asshole nor do I want to, but I think it’s normal and healthy to look back on your mistakes and go, damn, why the hell was I acting like this? 

Even on my best days, I can be very stubborn and self-important and pedantic and judgemental, and I certainly can’t say that I’ve never inadvertently offended someone–Sometimes a joke might not land as I hoped. Sometimes I get tangled up in my own thoughts, burdened by an excess of nuance and details, and I express things poorly while I try to account for all sides of things. Sometimes I can get a little too opinionated about blorbo stuff. Sometimes there might just be a full communication breakdown or an insurmountable personality clash–But I can also confidently say that I have acted with good intentions in this fandom far, far more than I have with spite or because of petty rivalries.

And when I did get caught up in the drama and gossip and the wank? I was literally at the lowest point I’d been in a very, very long time. 

Again, because I feel like I can’t say this enough, that doesn’t make acting like a dick in a Discord server any more excusable, that doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt anyone, and that doesn’t mean that someone I hurt during that time has to forgive me or stick around for me to grow. Hurting someone because you’re hurting is still not okay. But I’m pretty sure every single one of us has had a bad day (or two or three or 365 or–) and made an isolated bad decision (or two or three or–) because of it–None of us deserve to be wholly defined by those moments or denied a chance to learn from those mistakes and be better.

And I think the most important takeaway for me personally is that I have learned from these mistakes and I have not repeated them. Some of these mistakes even helped me realize that I needed professional support for my mental health, and they played a role in my seeking medication and therapy last year. I still have a lot of work to do, but the silver lining to all of this is that I am in a much better place today than I was 2 years ago (even if this year also fucking sucks for non-fandom reasons and I would still very much like a goddamn break.)

The other reason I wanted to share my journey of navel-gazing and healing a wounded ego ~*self-discovery*~ is I think there’s a very good chance my story might sound familiar to others in the fandom. Maybe someone else can learn from my hardships and mistakes, too. Maybe you too were dealing with chronic fatigue or mental health issues or financial stress or isolation or all of the above and then some, and it led you to fixate on things that were harmful to you, to form unhealthy relationships with equally hurt people, and to act in a way that you know doesn't reflect who you are. The past several years have been so hard on so many of us, and I think we’ve all brought a lot of pain and misery into the community even if we weren’t trying to.

A somewhat shameful realization I had last year was I could recognize that kind of behavior in other people, but I completely missed it in myself. I could see how people were making this fandom their whole world and how it was so damaging to them, but I was doing the exact same thing and I just let it go completely unchecked because I thought I knew better. It was a brutal lesson in the pitfalls of pride. 

--------

So I was initially thinking at this point, I would take the time to address a few specific lies, rumors, and insinuations that have been said about me over the past couple of years. Because while I was a jerk in a couple of situations, most of the things said about me are exaggerations, if not outright fabrications.

And I did start writing a lot of that out, but as I was doing it, I was just overcome with a huge feeling of OH MY GOD I just don’t fucking care anymore. As one of my dear, long-time fandom friends has pointed out, there’s a great line about just this kind of thing from one of my favorite characters in one of my favorite games: “Why should it [bother me]? They don’t know me. I know me.”

I also really don’t want to run the risk of pulling anyone back into the fray (especially if they’re not even in the fandom anymore or if we’ve talked privately about certain issues) by even alluding to shit that happened years ago.

Instead, I would like to offer three of my big takeaways from the experience of being falsely accused of awful things:

You do not know nearly as much as you think you know about people’s fandom relationships. The one semi-specific thing I will mention is that I had been explicitly named a few times as being in cahoots with people I don’t think I ever even spoke to or that I had already drifted away from–Just because you saw two people existing in the same public space doesn’t mean they’re besties, bestie. Also, friends don’t always have to agree with each other, nor should we be expected to participate in a public spectacle of shaming if we do have a disagreement. People are allowed to resolve their differences privately.  

Not all conflicts/disagreements are inherently abusive or toxic. When you are hurting or dealing with unresolved trauma or starting to confront uncomfortable truths about yourself, the slightest disagreement can feel like a personal attack, but that doesn’t mean it is. Sometimes differences might be irreconcilable, but sometimes they might not be if you don’t automatically assume the worst of someone with a different perspective than you. Sometimes we just need to give the other person a little grace and the benefit of the doubt that they’re doing their best. And sometimes we might need to consider that it’s actually our own behavior driving the conflict and not the other person.

Even in situations when someone has clearly been unfairly targeted/victimized, that doesn’t mean they can’t also be a perpetrator of harassment/abuse to someone else. Victim and abuser are not mutually exclusive roles. I would wager a lot of us are familiar with the cyclical nature of abuse, and to quote a line from one of my favorite movies (admittedly a bit of a flippant line in the context of the film, but it still rings true): hurt people hurt people. Accountability for shitty behavior is never conditional, regardless of the pain we’re experiencing. 

--------

I titled this my final reflection, and I want to clarify what that means:

First of all, I’m not leaving this fandom (don’t everyone clap at once ha ha ha). I’ve been in various online fandoms since the early 00s, and while this has been one of the more challenging communities for me to navigate, it’s not enough to make me give up something I love this much. My blorbos are my perpetual muses, and I feel like virtual photography is the creative outlet I’ve been searching for my entire life. I love this game and hobby too much to stop creating and sharing.

I’m also not leaving Tumblr. While I’ve had this specific account since 2016, I’ve been here since 2010–Tumblr is not just this fandom for me. I have many friends (some I’ve known since my original account in 2010!) from other fandoms, and I’m not losing the best place to hang out with other people who are special to me just because one fandom got a little unpleasant. (I mean, look, I weathered the DA fandom here circa 2012-2015–This ain’t my first rodeo.) I also have a lot of hope for the Tumblr Communities feature, and I’m really hoping the VP community we’ve set up can continue to grow and flourish.

But I am no longer addressing any of this wank. If you have a problem with something I’ve done or said to you and you want to address it with me directly (preferably in a private space just so we don’t keep putting this shit on people’s dashboards), I am open to conversation and apologizing where needed.

Otherwise, this is the last time I’m talking about it anywhere. Tumblr, Twitter, Discord, publicly, privately–I’m done. I’m washing my hands of it. I don’t want to hear anything else about what other people have done or who they’re friends with or who they’re following or what they’re saying about me or my friends or any of it. This bullshit has taken up too much of my time and energy, and I have very important smutty shots to take. 

And I am probably going to continue to be less active in the fandom on Tumblr, at least for a while. You probably won’t see me here much until September at the earliest. This time away has been really good for me, and I think I need to continue with limited Tumblring and making the time I am here more structured. Plus, with some of my other fave video game series returning this fall, my blog will probably shift back to a more well-balanced multi-fandom space. 

I’m also going to need to diversify my dash a little bit more, which means I will likely end up unfollowing some mutuals, particularly if we don’t interact often, if you don’t tag, or if I see any mention of fandom drama–It’s nothing personal, but I know breaking mutualship can hurt a little, so if following me after that makes you uncomfortable in any way, please don’t feel like you have to stick around. I totally get it. Similarly, if it would make you uncomfortable for me to continue to interact with your posts after unfollowing (because I probably will if you post in certain tags), please feel free to block me. 

Okay. Christ, that was long. Shut the fuck up already, right? This is why I can't do social media with character limits. ghdfjgjhkfdgkfdg

Seriously, though, that's it. People are welcome to comment on this post if they want, but I really have nothing else to say about any of this so please don’t be offended if I don’t reply. I’m not ignoring you, I’m just… Well, done.

[innytoes]

uhm... 👉👈 Ray hitman AU? maybe? if you were up for it? pretty pretty please? 🙏

-For those who don't know I made a shitpost about Ray being a hitman because I looked up housing prices in Los Feliz (and how medical debt works) and SIR HOW THE HELL DO YOU AFFORD THAT HOUSE ON A PHOTOGRAPHER'S SALARY.

-It starts when one of the Petal Pushers has a very abusive, stalker ex. She had tried everything, but even with a restraining order, it isn't enough. Law enforcement just shrugs and suggests she moves (again) after 'someone' breaks into her house, ransacks it and kills her cat.

-It's not like Rose and Ray meant to kill him. But it's what happens. They manage to make it look like an accident. They never tell Violet, but deep down she knows.

-Somehow word gets around and they suddenly have a booming side hustle of taking out abusive spouses, partners, exes, stalkers, etc.

-Ray starts to take on the most of the wet work, with Rose doing the research and being his alibi.

-He's always been a great shot. He won Rose so many stuffed animals at carnival shooting games that they had to start donating them to shelters.

-They do have very strict rules on who they work with and who their targets are. Ray gets very good at stalking people with a giant long distance tele-lens. Both the people who hire them (to make sure they're telling the truth) and the targets.

-The prices they charge vary, and they even have perfected the scheme of 'take out life insurance on him and we get half of the pay out' for people who are in a bad financial situation. Those are trickier because he has to make the deaths look like an accident.

-Listen I'm not saying a few of the plants in Rose's Plant Wall in the studio are toxic. Of course they aren't, they have children running around in there.

-The ones under the grow-light in the attic though....

-He tells everyone he's a photographer but really, he only knows how to work the tele-lens. Rose jokes he could become the world's greatest paparazzi if he wanted to.

-Rarely does he get up close and personal with the targets, but he did made an exception once when 'My Ex Is An Abusive Scumbag number 87' really, really wanted Ray to know the client was right by going after his kid from his first marriage, because his favourite target (their client) wasn't there to take his rage out on.

-He starts hitting the gym after that because it was a liiiiittle too close for comfort.

-As spoken by @floating-in-the-blue: THAT'S WHY HE'S SO FIRM.

-They buy a big house and have money to send the kids to summer camp and fancy music school and the likes. When people ask he just smiles and shrugs and said he signed an NDA so he can't talk about most of his Big Photography Clients.

-Carlos and Julie think their dad is the biggest goober and he totally is. He forgets where he put his phone because he's too busy with the 700 other details of his job. He can tell if any of the parts of his work-toolbox have been moved even a millimeter.

-Just imagine Reggie like: wow Ray really does a lot of research about his photography clients, I wonder if it's like an engagement shoot or something.

-IT WAS NOT AN ENGAGEMENT SHOOT. There was a shooting, though.

-He's a little shell-shocked but still follows Ray down to where he meets the client to promise her it's done, and she cries and tells him thank you and mentions some of the awful things the guy has done or threatened to do, and then he gets it.

-They stage it to look like a break-in gone wrong. Reggie helps knock some shit over when they're distracted like: he's a ghost there are no finger prints. He stays after Ray leaves and watches the woman 'come home' and call the cops. She's either a really good actress, or the tears are just more tears of relief.

-He's really, really glad the abusive guy didn't come back as a ghost though, that would have been so awkward.

-Reggie decides that Julie can never, ever know.

[gettothestabbing]

I got my air conditioner working again! Finally called an electrician, and the visit was free because apparently the problem was super obvious and easy to fix.

I wasn’t embarrassed about it when the guy was here. But when I had to tell my sister about it, I definitely was. Because I had been trying to fix it on my own, on and off, but I was pretty scared to make a mistake. I was sure I’d fry all my lights or fry myself if I did. And yet I was also reluctant to call a pro because I was dealing with car issues the same week. All I could think was “I’ll kill myself fixing this” and “I’ll never financially recover from calling a pro, I bet all my wiring is whack, and that plus the car is gonna put me in debt and then it’s so over.”

In hindsight, both fears are ridiculous.

I find it interesting that my sister, who is such an anxious person, can clinically observe my own fears and dismiss them from afar. As a result, I feel stupid and unreasonable. But when I’ve tried to help her dismiss her own fears and concerns when they get overblown, she argues for them, and even after the issue is overcome, she can’t admit to having been wrong. 

Maybe it’s just that she can’t admit it to me, but does admit it to herself. It’s hard to tell. I tell her almost everything, because that’s how I process stuff, but especially since she met her husband, she tells me much less. She processes more stuff internally, which is fine, but when you look at our convos, I come off as much more needy and emotional despite being the older sister. I don’t really have many people to talk to, so this is unlikely to change. But it’s embarrassing and annoying anyway. 

As a child, when you become an older sibling, you’re told you will have to help out and be a good example and a leader to the younger child. But when you can’t do that, or when your attempts are rejected by your sibling, it feels like you don’t really have a defined role in the family. My dad, the oldest in his family, has criticized and mocked me for not playing the older sister role better. My sister essentially took that role from me years ago: she’s more confident, social, put-together, pretty, handy, etc. She’s also already a happy wife, mother, and homeowner. (This is someone who said she would take a vow of chastity because there were no men worth her time around.) 

I can’t help but constantly compare us to other sibling-pairs I’ve known, like my dad and uncle or two family friends who are sisters. And when I make those comparisons, I don’t like what they foreshadow for my life at all. I tell myself I’m being dour and superstitious. But the longer I remain the way I am, the more I fear I’ll never be able to change into the person I want to be. Even as I continue to strive towards that ideal, and see small steps of progress, the actual final picture feels unattainable most of the time.

And I’m not like a shut-in or anything, I have achieved plenty which my sister has not. But the things I’ve done aren’t valued in our family the way her accomplishments are. On family phone calls, I’m constantly giving news about her life because I’m the one who stays in touch with people and yet her life is the one they prefer to talk about. My grandparents literally talk shit about my faith and work behind my back (confirmed by multiple third parties). But when they call I get a few polite questions about it, after I get at least half an hour’s worth of questions about my sister and her son. I’m not even that close with them, so it could be worse.

I really want to build my own family, and it just feels like it’s never going to happen, and I’ll only ever be supporting her family and our older relatives while they do the things they want, while I stay poor and increasingly isolated from them due to my work situation.

[cursed-umbry]

I've finally figured out whether or not I'd been doing the right thing or not. I haven't been, but I have the opportunity to start redeeming myself. Such opportunities in life are rare, and I'll try to make the most of it.

That's the short version. The long version is... complicated, as tends to happen with relationships between romantic partners or between relatives. The people involved other than myself are my mom, my dad, and my girlfriend. For further context, my girlfriend is MTF transgender, and she suffers from many of the mental health problems that can occur for trans individuals.

I live in Florida with my girlfriend currently, while Mom lives in Virginia (where I was born and have spent the majority of the 30 years I've been alive), and Dad, whose field of work is very specialized and thus he goes where the work is, is in Oklahoma.

My girlfriend lived in Florida before we ever had a romantic relationship and we were friends on Discord for years before we got together. She divorced from her wife to be with me after they'd fallen out of love, and I did my best to step up and support her long-distance while she was alone. Her bills would fall behind when she only had one income after the divorce, so I'd CashApp her. I helped her find a used car before the divorce was finalized because the one she was always driving belonged to her ex. Even made it to Florida for a four-day visit at one point. Eventually, I got the money put aside and took some time off, and I moved her in with my mom and me at the rental house we were in. Rent and utilities were supposed to be split, two-thirds for us and one-third for Mom.

We did okay living together, but Virginia took its toll on my girlfriend's mental health. She used to live with her dad some years ago until bone marrow cancer resulted in his death when she was 25. However, he was also the parent who made her feel like she couldn't come out as trans safely. She has mixed feelings about him sometimes, but ultimately, she knows he raised her and acknowledges his importance for her being who she is. All this to say that because the part of Virginia we moved into was where she lost her dad, she was more prone to being not okay when she was in that area due to the memories tied to many of its landmarks. Eventually, she outed herself to a manager at her job (on the premise that maybe that manager would keep it between them and not share that information with the rest of the management team) to explain her depression episodes, but that manager told the whole management team anyway. She felt she could no longer be safe at that job, so she quit.

After that, it was very hard for her to have a steady income. I make alright money, but paying all of her bills on my own wasn't going to be possible. She did Uber the rest of the time we were in Virginia, but rarely did she do enough Uber. Like, we would need for me to do Uber too since my job was three 13-hour shifts and I had four off days, my goal would be to make $300 on my Uber days while she shot for $600, but most weeks we came away with $450-600 put together. As we kept falling short, I would prioritize our car bills, our car insurance, her medical insurance, her medications, our storage unit bill, and her phone bill over our rent and our utilities (including my phone bill) since those two bills were jointly shared with my mom who makes a lot more money than me but who is also paying off a lot more debt than me. I kept telling Mom I'd pay her back. I knew what I was doing was unfair to her, but ultimately, we fell probably about $4100 short of rent and utilities over the course of six or seven months. While this was going on, we declared our intention to move to Florida so we could move in with my girlfriend's mom, so my mom was house hunting. Her intention was to use her retirement money to buy a property outright because her credit would no longer support a mortgage, but as my girlfriend and I fell further behind, that was eating into my mom's already limited house budget. She told me it had real effects for her trying to make offers.

I borrowed from my dad to fund the move to Florida. So now we sit $4000 in debt to my dad and about $4100 in debt to my mom, with the added wrinkle that Mom feels like I used her and trampled over her to get my girlfriend and me to Florida, but I try to defend that with the argument that there was a very real possibility my girlfriend would harm herself the longer we stayed in Virginia. Mom also has a lot of belongings to downsize, and I left all of that to her when I left, even though she's not so physically able anymore. She asked me to promise I'd come back to VA as soon as I could after moving to help her with the stuff at the rental so that she could move. She's bought a condo, so now she's paying to be at two properties at once, and she's stretched very thin.

I'm about to change jobs in Florida with a 50% pay jump. I'm interviewing today for this new job. If I had not found this new job and was thus going to stay at my current one, I was planning to use PTO to take a day off so that I could come back to VA for a few days and help Mom. Depending on whether or not I get hired, I might instead work the visit to Virginia into the gap between resigning from one job and starting the other. I view this visit to Virginia as an opportunity to redeem myself for taking advantage of Mom before we moved out. However, due to our dog, my girlfriend cannot go with me. It's the first time we might be apart since we moved in together. She's not taking it very well because I am her main support system.

She and I had a big conversation about this last night before bed to figure out all the emotions involved from both ends. I've been distant for a while since we got here, and I've been less attentive to my girlfriend than I should have ever let myself be. I believe that guilt for my actions in Virginia weighs on me, so if I can relieve that weight by helping that situation, I'll be able to be a better partner again. She is upset that I'm leaving her because I did at one point promise I'd never leave her behind again (after my four-day visit before she moved in with me), she's angry at my mom for not dealing with her stuff sooner, and she's scared of how she'll feel watching me drive off without her.

With all that said, I swore to her I'd come back more focused. I want to make the most of the help I can give my mom when I go back home so that this pain isn't holding me back or distracting me anymore. I love my girlfriend, but I love my mom too. I want to make things right for everyone involved.

[girltomboy]

So the decision my bf ended up making was to give up on this semester, study for the next one and get a job in his hometown, save up money to pay his uni debts AND move to the big city next year to finish the rest of his exams. Which is a faulty plan, but at least he didn't fully drop out (a decision for which he gave credit to his friend, who told him not to drop out once, not me or his parents, who have been saying this since forever, but NEVERTHELESS-)

He came over on Thursday to leave some documents at uni, and we spent the weekend together. Our only friend here didn't want to hang out (in reality he was working and we were too lazy to go visit him at work on the other side of the city, but his hostile tone didn't give us many signs of our presence being actually wanted) 🥲 so we ended up going to the house of an old dorm neighbor of my boyfriend's, met his gf and spent an evening there while he ranted about religion. I'm gonna be honest, it was a bit of a shock to me to discover that such people really exist. I mean generally I'm good at wrapping my head around all the different kinds of people who exist in the world, right. I like to believe I'm pretty good at perceiving diverse ideas, personalities, tastes, experiences, etc. outside of my bubble. Right.

Now I don't know what it was, but hearing this guy talk about god and religion in a highly conservative way I haven't even heard my PARENTS talk really shook and scared me a bit. Like he was ranting about immigrants and gays worse than any elderly religious person I've met, and we're talking about a guy who's barely entered his early 20s. Talking about "we have to keep our country clean" when our country has historically never been "clean" in the way he means it, like ever. He proudly told us the story of how he moved out of the dorm because he got paired with a Baptist roommate (a BLACK man too!). Well, according to him it wasn't really the sole reason, but a pretty decisive factor, probably. Anyway, he had a male way of dominating conversations, so fortunately I didn't have to say much (neither did his girlfriend, but he made her wash the dishes, sooo 🤡). But he did put my boyfriend in the spotlight because he mentioned having visited some monasteries with his parents last week. And he casually said it felt pleasant to just be there with his parents, so his friend got activated and started telling him he should do it more often, pray, believe, start reading prayer booklets, etc. He went on all sorts of tangents about how god works in mysterious ways, and suffering is the blessed path. Later on two other dudes showed up (apparently my bf knew them from the dorm too) and they were pretty much as pious as their buddy. So when they arrived, the Christian guy started over and once again centered my boyfriend's beliefs in his rant, and even spoke with his MOM over the phone about how she should take him to church more often, MAKE him pray, MAKE him read prayers, etc. And my boyfriend did not seem to mind, maybe because he was the center of attention during the entire discussion, maybe because they made him explore a topic to which he hadn't given much thought before (although he does describe himself as an atheist, he admitted he felt some sort of inner peace during the monastery visits, which... I kind of understand, but to jump from that simple comment to - YOU HAVE TO GO TO CHURCH NOW, THE LORD IS TRYING TO GET A HOLD OF YOU AND YOU HAVE TO RESPOND TO HIS CALL is a bit 🙄), but EYE was pissed off not just on my own cause my religious trauma was getting activated, but also on his behalf because it seemed to me like they had all cornered him and were pushing him into this whole thing without taking into account his opinion, his wishes, his beliefs AT ALL. And mind you, he was preaching all this stuff while rolling a joint, so if you ask ME, sincerity might not be his strongest suit.

After the religious conversation died down, he started telling an interminable story about some kind of journey he and his girlfriend had (ironically, his girlfriend is also an immigrant, but he probably doesn't consider her as such because of geopolitical reasons 🤡 that's just another slice of his fascism cake). His girlfriend uttered 3 sentences at most, while he bragged about how he organized so many people of so many backgrounds, races, and ethnicities that were traveling with them and became their leader basically. I understood nothing of his story (as much of a chatterbox he is, he sucks at it) but at least we got stoned and my bf suggested we go home after a while. And we had enough time to catch the night bus. On the way home I tried to rant about the religious fella, but we were both too cold and tired, and my boyfriend seemed set not necessarily on defending him, but on finding excuses for him. I guess I get it because they were dorm buddies, and my bf said he didn't use to be so god-crazy before, maybe I got triggered because of my religious past. His talking points were one of the main things that drove me away from organized religions in general. I feel like I shed all traces of respect and inclination towards organized religions, but I kept at least a little bit of spirituality that has nothing to do with them. However, this guy seemed like the polar opposite: all religion but no spirituality, no empathy whatsoever. I mean he wasn't terrible, he was a good host and seemed friendly, affectionate with his gf, generous, overall warm. Until he started talking, that is. 🤪

[teconkaals]

Walking With A Ghost Chapter 3

Back in the UK, Soap invites Ghost to dinner at his house.

AO3 Chapter link: Chapter 3 - Back Home

Fanfic Masterlist: Here

Next Chapter: Chapter 4 - Home

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2 - One More Heartbeat

Wordcount: 8063

Rating: Mature

Tags of the fanfic (some of them): hurt/comfort, taking care of each other, blood and violence, happy ending, non explicit sex

A/N: A bit long, but it's all fluff I swear

I don’t give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform (I’m publishing on my Ao3 account both English and Spanish).

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY - TF 141BACK HOME CHICAGO, USA NOVEMBER 4, 2022, 04:15

A buzz woke him up.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to drive away the sleepiness, and looked around him, trying to place himself. No, this certainly wasn't his room. He turned a little to the left when he felt something on his waist and saw Soap hugging him, his forehead resting on his back. Ghost looked at him for a few seconds before moving carefully so as not to wake him. He pulled the blanket gently over them, and Soap stirred in his sleep. He hugged him a little more and Simon couldn't contain a half smile, feeling how his heart warmed.

The hum was heard again somewhere on the floor, insistent, and he frowned as he recognized it as the vibration of a mobile. Simon had a feeling it was his and he moved quickly to find it. He always kept it in silent mode and the only calls he got were from work, so there was a good chance it was Price. Ghost found his pants, rummaged in its pockets, and pulled out the little device. He rolled onto his back, carefully placing Soap on his chest, and opened the phone, confirming his suspicions.

He took a deep breath before answering.

“What's up?” He asked in a lower tone of voice than usual.

“Finally, I've been trying to reach you,” Price replied. Ghost didn't miss the slight relief in his voice. “I went looking for you, but you didn't answer. And I’ve also called you. Five times, where have you been?”

“We're on break.”

“That's right.”

“Then why so much insistence?”

The Captain was silent and Ghost continued speaking.

“You wouldn't be worried about me, would you?” he growled.

“Maybe a bit restless. A lot has happened in these last few hours.”

Ghost looked at Soap as he noticed him move again and lowered his voice a bit more as he spoke.

“Too many. Do you want to talk about a specific one?”

Price snorted.

“I hardly hear you. You know that phones have a microphone you put near your mouth, right?”

Ghost looked at the ceiling for a moment.

“Get to the point, Captain.”

Price chuckled softly.

“It's nothing important,” he replied. “I thought you might like a drink. You know, for old times sake.”

Simon cocked his head and took a deep breath.

“I'll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Don't worry.” Price said and Ghost sensed that smile that downplayed the matter. “We'll have a chance for that later.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he chuckled. “Try to rest, we'll leave early tomorrow morning.”

He hung up the phone and closed it. He wasn't surprised that Makarov's name had stirred up the Captain's past. In fact, he too would have been in the same situation if he hadn't been busy with… other things. Makarov was a bad guy, one he didn't expect to meet again. On the other hand, perhaps he could take advantage of it to collect a series of debts.

“You've stayed.”

He turned to Soap upon hearing his sleepy voice. He'd moved his head a little to see him and, although he was smiling, Ghost couldn't help but feel a pang of pain in his chest.

“I can go if…”

“No!” John hastened to answer. “No, it's okay. I'm just… I'm surprised. I thought you'd leave after… well, you know.”

Sure.

It was logical that he thought that of the cold and distant guy who, once the physical need is satisfied, leaves because nothing ties him there. And the truth is that he wasn’t wrong; on the few occasions he'd slept with other people, he'd walked out without saying a word. With Soap though, it was different because there were feelings involved. Emotions he hadn't felt in many, many years, and that had kept him from leaving the room in silence.

He sighed.

“I'll leave when you ask me to,” he growled.

John made up a huge smile and chuckled. He rested his cheek on his chest and frowned a little at his hand.

“What've you got there?”

“My cellphone.”

John lifted his head slightly and moved to take it.

“Your cellphone?” He took a good look at it before laughing. “This thing is older than me. Why do you have a grandpa's phone?”

Ghost took it from his hands and let it fall to the ground. The device made a thud as it landed on the clothing, and Soap laughed, settling himself against it.

“Don't sulk,” he told him, smiling, “I'm asking because I'm interested.”

Simon looked at him and snorted.

“It's for calling. I don't need more.”

“To call,” he repeated.

“You don't call or what?” Ghost growled.

John laughed again.

“No. Well, sometimes," he added, seeing his mate look at him. “My grandma, for example. She doesn't quite understand how messaging apps work, so I've to call her,” he cocked his head. “You don't text with your family?”

Simon looked away and stared at the ceiling. He was silent for a few long seconds before speaking.

“I’ve no family.”

Soap sat up like a spring.

“Fuck… I… I'm sorry, Simon. I didn't know that…”

“Calm down,” he cut him off.

Soap was silent, looking at him carefully.

“You don't…have anyone?”

Ghost looked at him and growled a curse at the tone of sorrow in his words.

“Save your pity, Johnny.”

“It's not pity,” he snapped back. “It's… how to explain…” He ran a hand through his hair and huffed after a few seconds. “Okay, fine, you're right: It's pity, but it's how I've been raised. I've always had my family there, and we're a lot,” he added with a cherished smile, “so I'm a little sorry when people grow up without it. It's… that kind of pity. I didn't mean to offend you, Simon. I'm sorry.”

Ghost glanced at him and nodded. He understood what he meant and, if he made an effort to empathize, it was logical that he would have that reaction. He was distracted when he noticed Soap climb on top of him to get to the edge of the bed. The Scotsman leaned out and reached out to rummage through the clothing.

“Where the hell is it?”

“What the fuck are you doing, Johnny?”

“Aha, found it!” He answered triumphantly, getting up again and showing him the cellphone that Ghost had dropped. “No matter what, you'll always be my friend,” John continued. He sat on the bed and typed on the device. A Bruce Springsteen song blared from somewhere on the floor, cutting off abruptly after a few seconds. “You can call me whenever you want. You can even give Price my number in case… something happens to you,” he handed back the phone. “You'll never be alone again, Simon.”

Ghost picked up the phone without saying anything, completely shocked by Soap's words. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, realizing that he couldn't make a sound. John looked at him with understanding and lay down next to him, putting an arm around his neck and pulling him gently. Simon let go and rested his forehead in the crook of his neck. He felt his chest split open at having all those emotions at once. He, who always thought of himself as a person who didn’t deserve to be loved, a kind of killing machine, was receiving love from a person whom he considered good. Someone who did seem to care about him beyond camaraderie. After so many years suffering abuse from his father, having been betrayed several times, having lost everything that was important to him; after having put on a shell to not let a single emotion pass…

Simon broke down.

And Soap hugged him tight as he began to tremble, kissing him on the hair. John moved a little to cover them with the blanket and gently caressed his back, offering him his silent support, and Ghost, far from feeling vulnerable, felt protected. Like he'd found a safe haven. And noticing him brought on a sudden wave of exhaustion as he released the tension that had accumulated over years. Pretending that he was strong, that he wasn't affected by anything and that he was fine alone, was exhausting.

He took a deep breath and felt Soap move a little.

“You better?” He asked.

Ghost nodded wordlessly. He was so comfortable in his arms that he didn't want to break away.

“I'm glad,” John whispered into his ear and kissed his cheek.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door and they both jumped. Gaz's voice sounded on the other end.

“Hey, Soap! You there?”

John sighed.

“I'd better open it before he kicks in,” he whispered and Ghost moved a little to let him go.

Soap quickly dressed and hurried to open the door. Although the bed was invisible from the hallway, Simon shifted his position just in case, casting a quick glance at the floor to see if there was anything to indicate he was there.

“Hey” Soap greeted him with a jovial voice. “What’s up?”

“Haven't seen you all day, man. Still sleeping off your hangover?” Gaz asked with a laugh.

Soap chuckled.

“I think I drank too many beers.”

“And also whiskey. Did you have company?” He added he mischievously.

Ghost tensed for a moment, relaxing when John laughed.

“I wish! I was so drunk that I didn't see that I had already drawn a glass.”

Gaz laughed with him.

“You're a basket case, man” he took a deep breath. “Price sent me to remind you that the plane leaves first thing tomorrow. Try not to fall asleep.”

“I'll set seven alarms” Soap assured him and his partner laughed again.

He said goodbye to Gaz and closed the door, stepping into Ghost's field of vision. He glanced at him and smiled.

“Go home, huh?” Soap commented casually.

“Don't want to?” Simon asked.

“Of course I do” John chuckled softly and sat down on the bed, close to him. “It's weird after being away so long. And it's funny because it's only been a handful of days, but it feels like months,” he added, quietly. “It'll be a rest to sleep at home and go back to the routine.”

Ghost nodded wordlessly and Soap looked at him.

“What're you gonna do when we get back?”

Simon took a deep breath, thoughtful. The truth is that he hadn't given it much thought because he assumed that he’d do what he always did: inventory the weapons, clean them, review the reports, train and read a book at night. Maybe he'd have a drink at Amelia's pub.

“I don't know,” he finally answered.

“We can go somewhere,” he suggested. “If you want,” he added, outlining a smile.”

He looked at him carefully. Although Soap kept his usual smiling, Simon could see past him and see that he was hesitating. Apparently, Soap didn't seem to be sure where they were. Well, neither did he, so they were both equally lost. What was clear to him was that he wanted to follow the new path that was opening up before him.

One corner of his mouth turned up.

“Sure.”

John's smile widened and his face seemed to light up. And also the room. A kind of superpower that never ceased to amaze Ghost. He let his heart warm a little before taking a deep breath and sitting up on the bed.

“I should go,” he commented, rubbing his eyes. “I need a shower and something to eat.”

“I thought you might want to shower with me.”

He looked up. Soap was smiling shamelessly, one eyebrow raised, and Simon would have kissed him if it hadn't been for the words his mate had said.

Showering together.

This was something Simon had never done with anyone. Not even in the army. He'd always managed to shower alone, away from the prying eyes of his partners. It was a very personal moment for him because the water relaxed him, relieving stress, apathy and anger. He’d never considered that there was a chance to share that with another person, not even Soap. And he didn't know if he was ready for it.

John's smirk faded and the mischievous look turned into a worried one.

“Simon?”

Ghost swallowed and looked down.

“I've… never done it.”

“You kidding!” Soap exclaimed, stunned. Ghost looked at him and John's expression softened. He sighed before speaking. “The last thing I want is to pressure you, so take your time, okay?”

Simon shook his head, surprised to realize that he wanted to try; see how the experience was and how it ended.

“I want to, it's just that…”

He sighed, leaving the sentence in the air, not knowing very well how to formulate it. Luckily for him, Soap seemed to understand what he was trying to say.

“Don't worry,” he replied kindly. “Let's try, okay? Set the pace, and if you get overwhelmed, let me know so I can give you space.”

Ghost nodded, and after Soap removed his clothes, he led him into the bathroom. Although the shower was a standard size, it was a bit small for two such large men. They managed to keep from falling, and when the water began to run hot, Soap moved so that Ghost was under the tap. The effect was immediate, and Simon felt him relax. He let out a soft sigh and lifted his head, closing his eyes to keep out the water. Seconds later, he remembered that he was accompanied and opened his eyes.

The Scotsman was looking at him carefully and lovingly and Simon's heart skipped a beat.

“All good?” He asked. Ghost nodded. “Can I?” He added, holding up a hand with the sponge.

He stared at him for a few long seconds before nodding again. Soap placed a hand on his shoulder, a gentle touch, and gestured for him to turn around. Simon complied and turned away from him, taking a deep breath as he felt the soft pressure of the sponge against his skin. John took it easy, indicating when he needed to change position or raise his arms, and Ghost grew more comfortable. He also understood why people liked to shower in company. Perhaps it was because Soap was the person with whom he was sharing that first time, but he perceived it as something intimate; something that reinforced the trust he had in his partner.

No, mate no. Friend, he corrected himself.

“Okay, only part left.”

He looked at Soap, pushing thoughts of him away. GH frowned a bit, not understanding, and Soap smiled.

“The war paint you're wearing on your face,” he clarified. “Sure you've left some on my bed, but there's still some left on your face. And between the tears and the water, you look like a raccoon about to commit a crime.”

“What's wrong with that?”

John didn't answer, but he laughed. He reached out a hand out of the shower and reached for a towel, dampening it, motioning for him to close his eyes. Ghost obeyed and crouched down a bit so he could reach better. Soap washed his face with the same gentleness that he had applied to the rest of his body and Ghost found himself wanting to do that again.

“That's it.”

Simon glanced at him and Soap smiled, cocking his head to get a better look. He raised a hand and placed it on his cheek, carefully, like someone caressing a wounded animal to tell it he won't hurt it. Ghost closed his eyes and leaned his face into John's hand.

“Your turn,” he whispered, taking the sponge from his hand.

Soap laughed and switched places. Simon repeated the same movements Soap had done on him, slow and gentle, and found that it relaxed him, too. Feeling how John's skin crawled at his touch gave him a small sense of triumph. Being responsible for such a positive reaction was something new, something he wasn't used to.

Something he was beginning to enjoy.

He had always considered his hands to be another weapon, a tool to take lives. And suddenly he felt stupid for forgetting that he could also use them for something less violent. Yes, he was aware that they had a more than pleasant use during sex, but that... that was something else. Feeling John's soft skin under his fingers, feeling him relax, hearing him sigh and even groan in low pleasure. Ghost could get used to it, he could do it every day without getting tired.

And then you'll lose it because everything good you've ever had has been brutally taken from you.

He unfocused her gaze and stopped his hand almost without realizing it. That intrusive thought had caught him off guard and blocked him without being able to put up any kind of resistance.

“Hey, everything okay, big guy?” He asked softly.

Ghost nodded, still distracted.

“You can leave if you want. Don't feel forced, okay?”

Simon half processed the words and nodded again, silently, as he left the shower. He dried himself and dressed, sitting up in bed and trying to clear his mind. It didn't take long for Soap to come out of the bathroom. He crouched in front of him, a towel tied around his waist and his arms resting on his thighs. Ghost didn't miss that he hadn't touched him.

“I think you've gotten a little overwhelmed there,” he commented. “Sorry, maybe it was a bit soon.”

“No,” Ghost managed to reply, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “It…was good.”

“So?”

Simon shook his head and took a deep breath. He met John's eyes and stood up. Soap immediately followed suit.

I'd better go.”

Ghost moved across the room to retrieve his jacket and frowned when he couldn't find his balaclava.

“Here.”

He turned to Soap. He had his hand outstretched toward him, holding the garment.

“You're going to need it to get back,” he added with a half smile.

Simon reached over to grab it and pulled it over his head. He said goodbye to Soap and left the room. He put his jacket on and pulled the hood up before moving. He walked through the corridors of the hotel and used the stairs instead of the elevators so as not to meet anyone, although, due to the silence that reigned in the building, he was sure that there were hardly any people passing through the corridors. Simon took a deep breath and took out the card to open the door to his room when he heard footsteps in the corridor.

He snapped around, alert, but relaxed when he saw who it was.

“Price.”

The Captain looked him over and raised an eyebrow. Ghost didn't miss that he was trying to hide a half smile.

“I see you've been out for the night, Lieutenant,” he commented casually. Simon was silent, unmoving, and Price let out the smile he was trying to hide. “That, or you’re gone Scotch.”

Ghost looked down at his left arm and saw the St. Andrew's Cross there. He closed his eyes for a second and forced himself to breathe deeply. How had he been so stupid as to take Soap's jacket instead of his?

Damn him and his habit of wearing clothes several sizes too big.

“Don't worry,” Price continued to speak gently; in fact, he thought he heard a paternalistic tone in his voice. “I know you pretty well, and considering what you’re been through, I'll be glad of anything that adds a bit of color to your life."

Ghost felt his heart sink a little. Yes, too many emotions.

“Have you come just for that?” He replied, unable to answer anything else.

“Something like that,” he fished in one of his pockets and pulled out a small USB stick that he offered him. “Take a look at it when you can.”

Simon picked up the small item and pocketed it without saying anything. Price patted him on the shoulder and headed down the hall. Ghost looked at him for a few seconds and walked into his room. He made sure everything was locked up tight and pulled the drive back out. He looked at it for a few seconds and looked for his laptop. He should eat something, and he knew it, but he knew that whatever was on that little hard drive was important.

And confidential.

He plugged the device into his computer and scanned the contents. He clenched his jaw and took out his cell phone. He kept his gaze on the first number in the call log as Soap had saved his phone as “Johnny” and added two emojis next to it: a fist and a bar of soap. He added it to the speed dial before calling Price.

“When is this from?” He grunted as the other picked up.

“A week,” replied Price; he heard him breathe and knew he had just taken a drag on one of his cigars. “The CIA sent it to me a few hours ago.”

Ghost squeezed the phone a little.

“Where?”

“Never mind. They've already checked the place and it's not there,” Price paused a little to take another drag. “They've taken everything there was, and as far as I can tell, it's not good.”

“Weapons?” Ghost guessed.

“And the bad ones,” Price sighed. “I've spoken to Laswell. His team has a lead and we're going to follow it.”

Ghost knew that even though he spoke in the plural, this mission bore his name. And he wasn't surprised. The Captain knew that not sending him would be a mistake.

“When?”

“The day after tomorrow. I'll give you the details then.”

“Copy.”

He hung up without saying anything else, keeping his eyes on the laptop screen. It showed a person much larger than himself, head covered and holding an assault rifle, issuing orders. It didn't take Ghost much to recognize him. To recognize the bastard that had screwed up his life ten years ago and the one he had left for dead. He slammed away a series of memories that tried to break through and he cursed, slamming the laptop lid shut. His jaw clenched, and he forced himself to take a deep breath.

“You won't run away again,” he growled and pocketed the USB stick.

Simon got up, left the room, and walked out of the hotel. He needed to be alone for a while with his thoughts, away from his companions. He walked for several hours until he couldn't keep ignoring the rumbling of his stomach, so he stopped at a fast food restaurant and returned to the hotel. That information had brought out a series of memories that he didn't feel like managing and that, moreover, was forcing him to go back to healing old wounds that still hurt.

Ghost put the food on the table and opened the beer can. He uncovered his head and took a drink, plopping back into the chair with a huff. He ate in silence, trying to keep his mind blank, and took out a glass where he emptied what was left of the can. He dropped the flash drive in and watched the bubbles surround the device. Simon pulled it out and plunged one of his knives into it to break it open. He'd buy another for Price.

He picked up the remains of dinner, threw everything in the trash, and lay down on the bed, sighing. Streetlights streamed in through the window, and Ghost watched the flashes of passing vehicles. He turned in bed, and for a moment, he missed John's presence. He found himself feeling a small twinge of guilt that he hadn't told him anything all afternoon. He took a deep breath and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Should he call him? Write him a message?

What the hell is done in these cases?

His phone vibrated once and he jerked back in startle. He reached over to the nightstand for it and opened it to see that he had received a text. Simon felt his chest warm when he saw it was Soap's.

>Hey, I hope I didn't push you too hard today. Try to rest.

He kept his eyes on the message, reading it several times until the screen went black on its own. He took a deep breath and hit the answer button.

>All good. Rest up Johnny.

He hit send and put the phone down on the table. He was surprised that Soap thought he had pushed him when he had, in fact, been very careful with him, letting him set the pace. Apart from his mother, no one had been that considerate of him. That didn't surprise him either. Since that night, so many years ago, he had become inaccessible to people. And his mask, coupled with his bulk and height, didn't help. He knew the impression he gave, that of the hard and cold type that you did not want to make angry; that of a person who wouldn't blink an eye when taking a life. A killing machine. And no one wants someone like that around.

Except Soap.

For some reason he couldn't understand, he seemed to enjoy his company. He always had. From the first minute they'd met, John had greeted him with a huge smile on his lips and, most of the time, with a soft punch on the shoulder. At first that bothered him. And his attitude too. Always smiling, always cheerful, always positive. However, after a few months, he began to tolerate it and time passed until he finally found himself in his bed. With him. Two poles just as opposite as day and night. Simon was broken in many places, patched haphazardly to keep going, and using the darkness as an ally instead of drowning in it. By contrast, John was light. The spitting image of a person who had had a normal life, without great losses and full of people who loved him.

Someone who wanted to live and eat the world.

And he, selfish, drank every drop of light that that smile gave off. Until then, always from a distance and without getting too close for fear of rejection, pain and betrayal. People like John (charismatic and laughing) could have anyone around and the thought that it was just a simple crush flitted through his mind.

Simon snorted and lay face down on the bed, his face buried in the pillow.

He was too tired to think about it all. He needed sleep, so he took all those thoughts, and feelings, and stuffed them into a drawer, shut it tight, and put it in the corner of his mind. He would deal with them another time.

When he boarded the plane, most of his companions were already seated. Ghost suppressed a sigh and looked around for a free spot, if possible, away from everyone. A smile caught his eye and he knew it was Soap. He nodded at him, and Ghost moved closer to him. The Scotsman removed a backpack from the seat next to him and waved at it, inviting him to sit down. Simon complied without saying anything, placing his backpack between his legs and leaning back against his back. Although the rest of the team sat close to them, their seats were relatively far away from the people. For a moment this surprised him; however, it was clear to him that he hadn't forgotten that he didn't like people.

Heat filled his chest again. He was completely convinced that John barely remembered what happened in the bar, too much alcohol; that's why he was surprised to see that he hadn't forgotten that he didn't like people.

“I have your jacket,Lt.” Soap whispered.

He cocked her head slightly at him when he spoke.

“And I yours, sergeant,” he replied. “You'll give it to me another time.”

John didn't answer, just smiled a little more and nodded. He settled into the seat and leaned his head against it, closing his eyes. Ghost looked at it for a few seconds before putting on the headphones, took out the eBook and turned it on. They had almost eight hours of flight ahead of them, so he hoped to finish the book. He felt a small pang of apathy as he remembered that as much as he liked paper books, he didn't have any. Actually, he had few things because he always traveled light and all his belongings fit in a sports bag. He often told himself that someday he might have a house with a room full of books. Unfortunately, he knew he wouldn't live for it.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, pushing those thoughts away, and settled back in her seat.

When they had been in the air for a couple of hours, Simon noticed something over his shoulder. He looked up from the book to see that Soap had stirred in his sleep, resting his head on it. Ghost slumped down a bit in the seat to give him comfort and looked around him to rest his eyes. Some of his companions looked at them in surprise and Ghost gave them a look full of anger and threat. As he expected, they looked away and sat down without saying anything. Usually, he didn't care what people thought, but he didn't like being stared at. And that situation had repeated itself on more than one occasion, especially when they returned from a mission.

Soap had the enviable ability to fall asleep anywhere, so he usually dozed off on the way back. He almost always ended up resting on his shoulder, like at that very moment, and Ghost used to move so that he was more comfortable. Needless to say, in a helicopter full of soldiers, this didn’t go unnoticed and soon there were rumors. He didn't care, however, he waited to see if John was bothered before taking action. When he saw that he didn't seem to mind being talked about, he forgot about it.

His partner growled and Ghost turned to him. Soap was frowning slightly, his body tense. Simon didn't need any more information to know that he was having a nightmare. He sighed and moved a hand to rest on John's thigh, pressing down a little.

“Easy,” he murmured to him in a barely audible tone.

Soap took a deep breath and his posture relaxed. Ghost kept his hand there throughout the flight, intending to accompany him in his dreams. It must have worked because his friend didn't move again and he slept for eight hours. He woke him as they were about to land and Soap yawned and stretched. He glanced down at Ghost's hand on his thigh and smiled sleepily.

“Have you slept at all?” he whispered, rubbing his eyes.

“No.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, half surprised and horrified. “Nothing?”

Ghost shook his head and showed her the eBook.

“I've been reading.”

“Reading,” Soap repeated, still in astonishment. “For eight hours.”

“It's a good book.”

John opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to think better of it and sighed. He composed a half smile and shook his head.

“Don't ever change,” he told him, patting him on the arm.

The corner of Ghost's mouth turned up without his being able to help it. They got up, picked up their luggage and got off the plane. They walked the track in silence, and when they reached the limit, they stopped. Simon turned to say goodbye to Soap when Soap spoke before him.

“Do you have plans for today?”

Ghost blinked.

“No.”

John made up a huge smile.

“I invite you to dinner. At my house,” he added quickly. “I have the impression that you don't like restaurants.”

Ghost looked at him for a few long seconds, evaluating his proposal. The truth is that, knowing that he was going to leave in less than twenty-four hours, he wanted a little company.

“Sure. What time?”

“Seven?” John guessed and Simon nodded. “Great. I'll send you the address later. Try to get some rest, okay?”

He punched him lightly in the shoulder and stalked away. Ghost stood there, motionless as he watched him go. He barely moved when he sensed someone standing next to him.

“Spying on other people's conversations?” he asked.

Price burst out laughing.

“Soap is a good boy,” he replied, crossing his arms. “I'm glad you finally decided to take the plunge.”

“Do you mean him or me?”

“Both of you,” Price looked at him and smiled kindly. “I think, this time, you are the last one to notice everything.”

Ghost looked away and stared ahead.

“What time is the meeting?”

Price fell silent, and Simon knew he was debating whether to press about Soap or go along with it.

“At six.”

Ghost's phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out to read a message from Soap with his home address. He put it back and turned to Price when he slapped him on the back.

“Have fun tonight,” he said before walking away from him.

Simon turned and walked across the base to the barracks. He went into his room, took a pair of headphones and an mp3 player from his backpack and dropped the bag on the floor. He lay down on the bed and turned the music up a bit before taking a deep breath.

I think, this time, you are the last one to notice everything.

He clicked his tongue. Price had to be wrong, no one in his right mind would be attracted to someone like… him. At least, that's what a part of his mind said; the other was dedicated to throwing at him the memories of the night he had spent with Soap. Kisses, caresses, words and names whispered between moans that made him shiver when he remembered them. Simon closed his eyes, tired of dealing with his mind. Why couldn't he accept it? Why did it insist on trying to screw him over? To plunge him into the deepest of miseries?

“Dammit.”

He turned up the music a little more and tried to make his mind go blank. When he got it, he fell asleep almost without realizing it.

It was ten to seven when he woke up. He muttered a curse and shot up. He took a quick shower, changed his clothes, and headed out of his room toward the parking lot. He plugged Soap's address into the GPS and left the base for Hereford. He stopped at a supermarket to pick up a bottle of whiskey because, according to what he understood, if you were invited to dinner, or to eat, you had to bring something. He thought about getting wine, but he didn't know if Soap would like it either, so he played it safe. When he reached his destination, it was seven thirty.

“I thought you wouldn't come,” Soap greeted as he opened the door and invited him inside.

“I fell asleep,” Ghost growled.

He laughed and closed the door.

“That's what you get from reading during the flight.”

Ghost didn't reply, just followed him into another room that turned out to be the kitchen. The place was permeated with the smell of food and, to his surprise, it smelled quite good. He put the bottle of whiskey on the table, took off his jacket, and sat down in one of the chairs. With a sigh, he tugged on his mask and ran a hand through his still-damp hair, trying to comb it out.

“Have you brought whiskey?”

Simon looked up. Soap was looking at the bottle with a smirk.

“I didn't know what to bring,” he admitted. “I’m…  I'm not good at this stuff.”

Soap put the bottle down on the table and walked over to him. He placed a hand on his cheek and leaned down to kiss him on the lips.

“You're doing great.”

Ghost nodded and John grinned. He pulled out a couple of glasses, poured ice into them, and opened the bottle of whiskey. He handed one to Simon and raised his own. They clinked glasses gently and both drank.

Suddenly, something jumped on the table and Ghost jerked up, reaching for the knife from his back. He took a deep breath as soon as he checked what it was and looked at Soap.

“I didn't know you had a cat.”

“You're allergic?” he asked, concerned.

“No,” he replied, reaching out a hand to the animal. It sniffed him before rubbing against his hand, purring. “What’s its name?”

“Biscuit.”

“Sorry?”

“Its name’s Biscuit,” Soap chuckled. “Don't judge me, my niece put it on.”

Ghost's gaze blurred upon hearing this and he couldn't help but remember Joseph. The echo of his voice, and his laughter, echoed through his mind, and pain gripped his chest as he felt the emptiness of losing him.

“Simon?”

He blinked and focused on Soap.

“All good?” He added, looking at him with concern.

“Yeah. A bad memory.”

John pulled out a chair and sat near him. He gestured for him to follow suit, and Ghost complied. Biscuit hopped off the table onto Simons’s lap and snuggled into it. He stroked its back absently.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Soap asked.

Ghost didn't answer. He kept his gaze on the cat as he watched his fingers sink into the animal's dense fur.

“It'll spoil dinner.”

“It won’t.

He looked at him and could see that he was serious. He could tell him. Price trusted Soap and Simon trusted Price. And as scared as he was, as suspicious as he was, it would be a test of confidence John would have to pass.

He sighed.

“I've remembered my nephew,” he finally replied.

He knew that Soap remembered that he had no family and he could see how he added two plus two. John placed a hand on his arm.

“Sorry,” he muttered. Ghost nodded. “What… what happened to him?”

Simon focused back on the cat.

“He was killed, just like the rest.”

Silence fell on them like a heavy slab of concrete. Ghost was aware that this was the last thing Soap was going to hear, so he gave him a few seconds to absorb it.

“A former mission partner killed them. He was following orders from a Mexican narco,” he added.

“Have they been found?”

“I took care of that myself.”

John pressed lightly on his arm, and Ghost glanced there.

“It's classified information,” he said rather harshly. “Only Price knows.”

“I won't tell anyone, Simon,” Soap assured him. “I already told you: I'm not going to hurt you.”

Ghost nodded and looked curiously at Soap when he saw him move. When he held him close, he closed his eyes and rested his head on his shoulder. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Simon's stomach protested.

“I'm sure you haven't eaten anything all day,” John snorted mockingly. “Let's go have dinner and then watch a movie, shall we?”

He nodded and went to get up to help him when Soap put a hand on his shoulder.

“Stay. You’re the guest and you’ve a cat on your lap. Your mission is to stay there.”

Simon smiled and complied, watching as John placed plates on the table. They dined quietly, talking about everything and nothing, and Ghost slowly relaxed. He hadn't realized that he was tense until that moment. Like sharing the shower, he’d never dined with another person like that. And it was clear to him that Soap was aware of it by the care with which he was. It was a very subtle thing that someone else might have missed, but not him. Not when he'd learned to read people's body language to know how to react.

“Did you like dinner?” Soap asked.

“I'm surprised it didn't get burned.”

John burst out laughing.

“I like to cook, I admit it. Especially for others. It's not much fun to cook for yourself, so I always end up making myself anything.”

“It's logical.”

“Do you like cooking?”

“No. But I'm good at baking.”

Soap looked at him, surprised, and smiled.

“Makes sense.”

“Really?”

“Sure,” he replied, getting up as soon as the coffee pot started to make a noise. “I've seen you assemble and disassemble the weapons to clean them and I know you're a very meticulous person. In confectionery you’ve to measure the ingredients very well so it doesn't end up as a disaster. That's why I never make desserts," he added with a laugh.

“I'll bring one next time.”

John's face lit up when he heard it.

“That would be great,” he agreed. He paused to get a couple of mugs from a cupboard. “Sounds like Biscuit liked you. He doesn't usually get along with strangers.”

Ghost looked at the cat, still curled up in his lap, and stroked it gently.

“For some reason, animals usually like me.”

“People judge, they don't,” John commented. He had both coffee cups in his hands. “It’s logical that they know how to see beyond appearances.”

“Like you?”

Soap chuckled.

“Possibly,” he cocked his head. “Let's go to the living room?”

Ghost nodded and scooped Cookie into his arms, following his friend out of the kitchen. Although Soap's living room was not very large, Simon found it cozy. He had a couple of sofas placed in front of the TV, with a small table in the middle, and an armchair next to one of the windows, the largest. Several bookshelves lined the walls, mostly filled with books and comics, as well as a few games. Over the television were a handful of framed illustrations of various sizes. Art was never his strong suit, however he did know enough to realize they were good.

“Okay, what do you want to watch?” John asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He turned to him and sat down next to him, placing the cat back on his lap.

“Anything is fine.”

“No, no. You choose. I want to know what movies you like.”

Simon looked away.

“You'll laugh.”

“I promise not to. I don't judge, remember?”

Ghost sighed.

“Pride & Prejudice.”

“What?” asked Soap, surprised. He smiled. “The 2005 movie?”

“It relaxes me,” he murmured, noticing him to blush. “It’s a balanced rhythm and the soundtrack by Dario Marianelli is brilliant.”

“I admit I didn't think you were the type of person who likes romantic movies.”

Simon was silent as Soap got up and turned on a small computer on the counter. He pulled out a wireless keyboard and mouse and sat down next to him again.

“I like movies, in general,” he replied at the end.

“Me too, but I admit I have preferences. Like fantasy and sci fi.”

“We can see one of those genres.”

“No, no; Pride & Prejudice is fine. I haven't seen it in a while.”

Ghost glanced at him.

“Have you seen it more than once?”

Soap laughed.

“Of course I do. Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen have amazing chemistry. The scene where he helps her into the carriage? One of my favorites.”

Simon smiled helplessly, stunned. No turning up the corner of the mouth, no half-smiles. No. A full smile. And John widened his as soon as he saw it.

“Now who's surprised?” He added in a mocking tone.

Ghost laughed, and Soap with him. He turned on the television and searched for the movie. Saying nothing, he took Biscuit off Simon's lap to rest his head on and placed the cat on his chest. Ghost looked at him, surprised, and placed a hand on John's abdomen. He covered it with his at once and moved his head to look at him.

“You should laugh more,” he commented in a lower tone, a fond smile on his lips. “Suits you good.”

Soap’s smile widened when he saw him blush and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, turning his attention back to the movie. Absently, Ghost tangled his fingers in John's hair, trying to take in his words as he stroked him. The heat that he’d been feeling for a few days filled his chest again. He felt very lucky to have those moments of peace, those moments of affection and intimacy with another person. They were a breath of fresh air to everything he’d suffered and the truth is that he did not want to live without it.

The thought that he would lose everything reared its head and he inadvertently tensed. Soap began to caress the back of his hand, gently, and Simon knew he hadn't missed the change in his mood. Again, he was grateful that John was there with him. That he had insisted so much to make a place for himself in his life. And Simon certainly wouldn't regret that. Not after everything he was feeling.

It was almost twelve when the movie ended and they both got up, stretching their muscles after sitting for so long. Ghost looked at the clock and sighed.

“I have a guest room, if you want to stay,” Soap offered.

Simon looked at him and felt something tighten in his heart. It must have shown in his face because John reached over and stroked his arm, running his fingers over the tattoo that continued past his shirt.

“Trust me: I'm trying really hard not to drag you into bed,” he murmured, looking at the patterns that covered his skin, “but above all else, I don't want you to feel pressured.”

“Not with this,” Ghost whispered, moving a hand to place it under Soap's chin. He looked at him. “I sleep better with you.”

A smile lit up John's face and, incidentally, Simon's chest. He hesitated before leaning in to kiss him. Soap clung to him a bit before pulling away. He took his hand and led him into the bedroom. Once in bed, Soap leaned his back against Ghost’s chest and he hugged him. He thought about telling him that, in a few hours, he’d have to leave on a mission and that he wouldn't know when he would return, nor how dangerous it would be. However, he didn't know how to bring it up, and by the time he wanted to know it, Soap was asleep. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to match his breathing to his until he fell asleep.

As his phone vibrated, Simon was thankful John was a sound sleeper. Moving carefully so as not to wake him, he tucked him in and got into the shower. He dressed quietly and left the room in search of a pen and paper. He found nothing in the kitchen or living room, so he opened the door to one of the rooms, stopping as soon as he entered.

It was a study.

Three of the four walls were lined with bookshelves and cabinets, filled with drawing supplies and reference books. There was a work table just below a large window, with jars full of pencils, brushes, markers and the like; as well as some notebooks and papers on top. Simon walked over to the desk and took a look, recognizing the same style as the paintings in the living room. He opened a notebook on the table and was surprised to see that it was full of sketches. Drawings of people, landscapes and things.

Still in his astonishment, he turned a little towards the door.

In that instant he understood what Soap did when he took out a small notebook during missions. He had never tried to read it because he always thought it was some kind of diary, however, now it was clear to him that it wasn't.

He smiled helplessly and picked up a small piece of paper from the table. He wrote a note with a pencil that he hoped wasn't too expensive and walked out, closing the door carefully. He left the paper propped on the bedside lamp and turned to Soap, who was still sleeping. He saw Biscuit lying on the bed and stroked her head gently.

“Take care of him for me,” he whispered.

The cat purred a little louder and Simon leaned down to kiss John on the forehead. He put on his balaclava, picked up his jacket, and left the house.

[bigskydreaming]

I’m still working as best I can towards getting the surgery I’m always talking about in these posts, because when I tell you how much that will fundamentally change every aspect of my life right now, I’m not kidding. As usual, I’m way behind on rent, haven’t been able to afford new meds in a couple weeks, and am low on food and energy, with the first of the month being tomorrow and like.....I’m trying so hard to get the surgery at least before the end of the year, because as soon as I do, not only does it address all my health issues, I’ll be able to ditch the super pricey insurance I have to maintain just to keep the surgery I’ve otherwise paid for even a possibility? 

(Again, the surgery is already paid for, all 21K of it.....the reason I keep having to put it off is not having any extra to pay for rent and food while I’m stuck in bed recovering for a month after it, since I’m perpetually behind and stuck in the hole as is).

My breakdown of actual expenses, priority wise is:

- $812 per month insurance, without maintaining these specific benefits, I’ll owe additional money before they’ll even do the surgery, and there’s no way I can afford the out of pocket surgery price tag

- $1400 rent (there’s two of us living here, and we’re essentially living at one of those extended stay motels that give deals to people who are otherwise homeless, which is us. Yes, there are cheaper places we could live, even in LA a studio apartment can be found for like half this, but both of our credit scores were trashed in maxing out loans and credit cards even just to get us this far and we have no ability to rebuild our credit score while scrambling to keep up with day to day expenses as is, and we have no one who could co-sign on a cheaper apartment for us)

- $230 medication (I have an annoyingly high metabolism which means only specific pain medication works for me in the first place, as well as ADHD, C-PTSD, clinical depression, anxiety, something that is not OCD but is OCD related and hard to explain to people not familiar with it, and a few other things in the mix. I take four medications monthly, or am supposed to, and this total includes the cost of my refill apppointments, because many of my meds are controlled substances they won’t refill without monthly check-ups. Currently have been off my meds for over two and a half weeks. Its been grand)

- $80 phone/internet (necessary for most of my freelance work as well as refill and doctor appointments, etc. has been disconnected for over a week so there’s an additional $20 reconnect fee)

And anything I have left over after that goes to food. Literally the ONLY thing I need to finally be able to KEEP a surgery date is like....being able to afford rent, meds and food for the month after the surgery as my jaw will be completely wired shut, and I’ve been told to expect that I will not be able to get out of bed and move around for at least two weeks minimum.

But the SECOND after I’ve recovered from surgery, I can change so much of this? I can drop my pricey insurance, with the money I save from that I can fairly swiftly up my credit again as I’m less than 5K in debt overall, my biggest credit card is only $1K limit, I just can’t even afford to make tiny payment installments when I’m constantly behind even just on rent, as soon as I up my credit a bit and without the pain/medical issues limiting my ability to travel and use public transportation, I can find us a cheaper place to live, and like......between that, the gains I can make on sleep, nutrition and rest I can up my ability to find freelance jobs proactively, get more done, turn my attention back to various original projects that can potentially bring in money but that I haven’t been able to devote any attention to while needing to keep my focus such as it is limited to just producing fan content when and where I can since its mostly just mutuals and followers keeping me afloat as is and fan content caters to established fanbases whereas I simply don’t have the time, energy or focus to spare on building a fanbase with original content even though that’s potentially what can net me more money in the longrun, I’m just....stuck on short-run mode, lol. And have been for several years, so we’re talking law of diminishing returns here, as opposed to the expansion packet that original content can potentially reap, so add the frustration of that to ye olde mental/emotional turmoil.

ANYWAY.

Current sources of income other than donation posts are a part time job at a nearby fast food joint for minimum wage (limited hours though because I don’t set the hours and also physical disability makes this pushing it even as is), freelance work ghostwriting (mostly for self-published erotica and romance, though open to anything, please feel free to DM me if you have any potential work here, freelance editing (again mostly for self-published authors as that’s where I have the most contacts but open to anything), cover design (again mostly with self-pub authors but open to other stuff).

Other options I’m looking into to expand my potential income or revenue streams are making a youtube channel with more video essays on a range of topics, TikTok videos of various skits and scenes I’ve written for fandoms I’ve in, developing a Patreon with options for things like input on what output I create in those first two arenas, as well as things like capitalizing on my work history in the publishing and self-publishing industries as well as in Hollywood to step by step show the process of taking an original novel from single logline to fully self-published novel or querying agents in the traditional publishing world as well as mapping out similar journeys/processes in self-producing new media content as an actor or writer hoping to eventually create for film or television, etc.

Like, there’s a lot more I can do or offer there, its just first and foremost I’m hampered by time, energy and productivity constraints brought about by my lack of meds, food, and constantly needing to catch up on rent and insurance before I can even think about actually creating along any of those latter lines because I have to weigh the potential for greater income from longer term projects versus guaranteed income from short term projects of less broad potential but more immediate gains.

Anyway, I just went into detail here in ways I haven’t before hoping to shed a different light on the otherwise sameness of me constantly asking for help for the same thing, but like, please know there’s so much I can do to change my situation and I WANT to do, but there’s simply no way for me TO do that without meeting a certain threshold first, and like....that’s what I’m struggling to reach, month after month. After that? Could be a whole different ball game. 

https://ko-fi.com/kalenp

https://paypal.me/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

[bnhabadass]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader Genre: Smut, 18+, Mafia AU Trope: Woke up married Dialogue Prompt: “Aren’t we supposed to be working?”  Warnings: overdosing on cold medicine, mixing cold medicine with alcohol, dub-con, mentions of sex while unconscious, vomiting Word Count: 4,480

This is my contribution to this month’s bnharem collab. I was so happy when I spun the roulette wheel and it landed on my favorite au, the mafia au. I hope you all enjoy and make sure to check out everyone else’s contributions here. Also a big thanks to @doinmybesthere​ for being my beta reader and putting so much work into creating the master list for this collab.

“A fever? Are you fucking kidding me?”

You winced at the voice coming out of your phone. You were curled up in bed, a heavy futon draped over your achey, chilled body. “I’m really sorry,” you croaked into the receiver. “I can’t get out of bed; there’s no way I’ll be able to come into work today.”

“You know how important tonight’s meeting is.”

You could feel the fire in the eyes of your underboss as he spat at you about how important tonight’s festivities were. You couldn’t care less. You hated the guy, but more importantly you hated your father for getting you in this mess.

A debt needed to be paid and your family couldn’t afford to take out a second mortgage on the house. So your father, as smart as he thought he was, went to the nicest restaurant on the far side of town where the boss of one of the most dangerous mobs in the city stationed his office.

A debt for a debt. That’s what he told you as he came home smiling with a big check in his wallet. No one in your family knew where he got the money, but he seemed confident enough that he’d be able to pay it back.

A month went by and one day, three scary men knocked on your apartment door. They said they were there to “collect”.

You were terrified. You thought they were there to rob you, to take the money you had been saving in a rainy-day fund. But no, they came to collect you. Now, it’s been four months and you’re still stuck doing odd jobs for them--grocery and coffee runs as well as spending reports and other money related things you are less than qualified to do.

You hate your job. You hate having to put up with the unorthodox hours and the unsavory jobs and the complaints about your work ethic and the having to do it over again because you didn’t do it right the first time. You want out. If you weren’t positive that if you left they would be able to hunt you down, you would have fled the country by now.

But your father’s debt still hasn’t been paid.

“Look,” you pleaded. “I can come in tomorrow and work double my usual time. Please, Kirishima-san, I just need the day to rest.”

“Not a chance. You’re coming in today and that’s final. If you don’t, well, then maybe we need to take an extra payment from your parents.”

Before you could even process what he just said, he hung up the phone.

Another payment from your parents. You couldn’t possibly let them take any more from your family. With a new threat looming over your head, you mustered up enough strength to push off of your futon and get dressed for the clients’ dinner.

By the time it was 7:00 in the evening, you had taken a large swig of cold medicine and were ready to spend the night serving these criminals.

Outside of the restaurant, two bodyguards were stationed at the front door and one at the back entrance. All three of them were dressed in black from head to toe. You, on the other hand, were tasked with serving your boss’s clients, so your outfit differed from theirs.

You were dressed in attire suited for waiting tables. Black slacks stretch across your legs and your pristine shirt was smoothed against your body. A tight black vest clung to your chest and pressed against your boobs, squishing them together. If it weren’t for the fever, chills, and headache, you would look like you belonged with this crowd of criminals.

You flashed your ID to the guard at the back door and he nodded you in. Your eyes had to adjust to the fluorescent kitchen lighting, but once they did you saw how busy everyone was. It truly was one of the most important nights for your boss, so you understood why you were needed. Still, this night would truly take the most out of you.

“Oi, (L/n),” one of your boss’s associates called for you. “Take these to table four. I’ve been covering your ass for the last twenty minutes.”

“Of course, Kaminari-san.” You bowed your head and skirted over to the table where two well-dressed men spoke with one another in a hushed tone. You placed their meals in front of them and bowed your head.

“Wait,” one of them called as you began to walk away. “I asked for a Jasmine tea. This is Sencha.”

“Yeah,” the other one piped up. “And I asked for a Sencha tea and this is Jasmine.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to yell into the abyss and slap those men across the face. But of course all you did was bow in apology and take the cups back. Kirishima’s words to you over the phone rang loud and clear in your mind.

“Anything they need, you get it for them. These are important people the boss works with and we can’t have idiots like you messing this up for us.”

The men smirked at you and as you turned around to grab their “correct orders,” the man who ordered the Jasmine tea leaned over to leave a hard, painful smack across your ass.

You froze but didn’t say anything and walked away.

It was still early in the night but you had run yourself thin. You needed to sit down or to at least take a sip of water, but there was no room for breaks as you bounced from table to table getting the people what they wanted. You had even left the venue a couple times to retrieve items like the proper creamer one client required in their coffee.

Your throat was so sore and dry and it was aching for a break. Your entire body was aching for a break. But as you saw someone sitting at one of the tables raise her hand to wave you over, you had to put all of your aches aside to tend to her needs.

“Good evening, ma’am.” You bowed your head. “How may I assist you?”

A small smile was on her dark red painted lips. She seemed to be searching for something as she eyed you up and down. “Do you happen to know when Bakugou-san will be joining us?”

Bakugou-san… Were you supposed to know who that is? You had never heard the name before, although you knew your boss had many ties throughout the district. It could be one of them.

“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “I could ask my supervisors if they happen to know.”

She waited a moment. She seemed to be searching for something in your expression. “That’s all right. You may go back to work now.”

You bowed and thanked her.

Bakugou-san.

The name did sound familiar, but you’re not sure where you could have heard it. It wasn’t until you were deep in thought, trying to recall where you had heard the name, that you could feel something pushing up against your throat. Oh god. Your stomach was churning.

You ran to the bathroom, pushing someone out of the way to get there. You’d probably hear an earful from Kirishima for pushing a guest, but you needed to find a toilet before--

Oh no.

You barely made it into the stall before emptying the contents of your stomach onto the white tiles of the bathroom floor. Your legs collapsed from under you and you kneeled in your vomit as you coughed up your stomach lining into the porcelain bowl.

Tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breathe while hacking everything you had into the toilet. The black eyeliner you threw on before leaving the house had smudged into raccoon eyes around your lashes.

You rested your cheek against the toilet, ignoring all of the germs that were most likely crawling up your skin and into your pores. The toilet seat felt cool against your burning cheek and watering eyes. You thought you could die happily here, kneeling on the bathroom tiles in a pile of your slowly cooling vomit.

“Aren’t we supposed to be working here?”

Your eyes shot open, and in trying to stand up you slipped. Your ass landed in the smeared vomit. You winced and let out a drawn out, “fuuuck.”

It took you a moment before opening your eyes again and looking up at the man in front of you. And boy did your eyes widen. He was clearly a guest at the clients’ dinner. His blonde hair was slicked back and the bulge of his muscles under his crisp black button down didn’t go unnoticed by you. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms and as he crossed his arms over his chest, his sleeves began to tighten.

“Who the hell are you and why are you puking on the floor?”

It took you a second to find your voice. “I’m, um...” you trailed off. “(L/n), sir.” You cleared your throat. “I am a worker for the person hosting this dinner.” You tried to stand up and bow, but he put a hand up to stop you.

“You work for them.” It was a statement not a question, but you nodded anyway. “Why? What do you owe?”

You’re not sure why he was asking, but his intimidating glare compelled you to answer his every question. “My dad owes them money,” you admitted. “And he wasn’t able to pay them back.”

“Who do you mean by them?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. You didn’t even know what these people did. For all you knew they were drug mules or assassins. You never wanted to know what they did when you were roped in. After all, the less you knew meant you could have more of a normal life. “The boss,” you finally answered. Who the boss was, you weren’t sure. You answered to Kirishima but he didn’t have much power aside from ordering around you and every other person unfortunate enough to be roped into working for them.

The man in front of you scoffed. “Get up.”

You scrambled to your feet, ignoring the wave of nausea that hit you. The man led you out of the bathroom, and as you walked behind him, people who passed the two of you stopped and stared. Oh no, it had to be from the vomit stains on your leg and down your shirt. You probably stank to high hell and your eyes wouldn’t stop watering from your fever.

The man stopped and you had to keep from bumping into him. “There’s an extra work shirt in the closet,” he said. “There should also be some slacks in there. Leave your dirty clothes in a pile and I’ll have someone collect them.”

His voice was demanding and it took you a moment to register what he said. It wasn’t until he snapped in your face that you moved.

“We don’t have all day, princess.”

You flinched and nodded before scurrying into the closet and flicking the light on. Inside the closet was the restaurant’s sad excuse for a boiler room. The low humming from the machinery brought you back into the present as you searched for the change of clothes you were promised.

There was a crisp white shirt folded on one of the shelves as well as a few different slacks in varying sizes. The shirt was a size too small, so you had to leave the first couple buttons popped open. Before leaving the closet, you tried to think about who the man was and why he was helping you. Was it possible that he wanted something in return?

When you emerged from the closet, he looked you up and down. You were too tired, however, to notice his lingering glare on your chest and the way the button down squeezed your breasts closer together.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes. You’re not sure why you were too scared to look into his vermillion eyes, but the way he called you princess earlier as he snapped at you had definitely made you tremble in your core, and you swore that if you looked up to meet his eyes, your fever would only go higher and higher.

“Why the hell’d you come here if you were sick anyway? Are you trying to poison everyone in the damn building?” His words were like little bullets that shot at every one of your doubts of coming in tonight.

You thought back to why you had come in the first place. You were huddled up in your futon that morning when Kirishima called. You begged to stay home, right? But you couldn’t. You squinted hard as you tried to remember why you weren’t allowed to rest. “I was threatened,” you thought out loud. It wasn’t directed towards the man but he nodded in any case.

“(L/n) was it, right?”

You finally managed to look up at him with bleary eyes. “Yeah, um...” You couldn’t seem to remember what his name was. Wait, he hadn’t told you. He had just led you around and given you new clothes, but he never properly introduced himself.

“Bakugou Katsuki,” he said as if he could read your mind. His lips turned up into a smirk. “But call me Katsuki.”

“Katsuki,” you mumbled. “Bakugou Katsuki.” You had heard that name before, but where. “Bakugou,” you mumbled again as if you were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. “Bakugou-san.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“Oh!” It hit you like a ton of bricks and as soon as you shot up, you had to recoil because of the ache in the back of your neck. “There’s a woman looking for you, Bakugou-san, er, Katuki,” you bowed.

He just chuckled. “There’s a lot of people looking for me tonight. Who was it?”

That’s a good question. You squinted as if you were looking deep into your memories to remember who it was who asked for him. “She was a woman,” you remembered. “With long dark hair and dark red lips.”

Katsuki nodded. “I see the Yaoyorozus are here.”

The Yaoyorozus. You weren’t sure what that could mean but you didn’t feel like questioning it, so you nodded instead.

Katsuki was looking down at you. His arms were crossed over his chest but a smirk that had been playing across his face all night wouldn’t seem to go away. “Feeling better?”

You didn’t feel better. Although you felt cleaner in the new clothes, there was still a throbbing in your head that wasn’t going away and the overhead lights made your eyes water. But the way that Katsuki looked at you like he was expecting you to say yes just drew you in.

He could tell that the way you nodded a yes in response to his question was a lie, and his face fell before pushing a hand up to your forehead, checking your temperature. “Have you taken anything today?”

You had to think back to earlier that day when you brought the bottle of cold medicine up to your lips, not even reading the recommended dose before downing what you could and leaving your home. “Yeah, um, I took some medicine.”

The grin that had been spread across Katsuki’s face returned. “Well I guess we’ll have to get you some more.”

He grabbed your wrist and led you through the halls and over to the bar. You didn’t pay attention to where you were going. The world seemed to be going too fast for you to keep up. What you were able to notice was that everyone’s eyes were on you as you gently swayed back and forth, trying to settle yourself down. As you were in your own head, you couldn’t start to picture what everyone else saw when they looked at you. You with your raccoon eyes due to streaky makeup that you couldn’t stop rubbing.

“Here.” Katsuki shoved a glass in your face. “Not necessarily traditional medicine but it’ll get the job done.”

You looked up at the whiskey glass in his hand. The ‘medicine’ was a deep brown color which swirled around as he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his thick ones as you took the glass. You lifted it up to your nose and took a deep breath in, gagging at the smell. “Um, I don’t think I should.” You had been warned about mixing alcohol with drugs and the dangers that came with it, but no one had ever told you not to mix drinks with cold medicine. Still, that couldn’t be right, right?

“Come on, it’s good for you,” he egged you on. “Besides, it’ll get that nasty taste out of your mouth.”

You had never tried whiskey before. You were used to lighter drinks, something bubbly with a shot of vodka or two in it. But this was almost too much. You lifted the glass up to your lips and tilted it back. Your lips stung as they made contact with the drink, but you didn’t want to seem weak to Katsuki. He’d taken care of you so far and seemed pleasant enough, albeit intimidating.

As you tipped it back further and took more of the drink into your mouth, Katsuki pushed his hand against the bottom of the glass so you couldn’t tear it away, making sure you would drink every last drop. It stung going down and the cubes pressing against your lip were colder than you expected. You gagged as a couple loose tears rolled down your face from the drink’s burning sensation. You bet you looked even more of a mess now.

“Good girl,” Katsuki said with a low demeanor. With his thumb, he wiped away a drop of whiskey that rolled down your chin.

“And this’ll make me feel better?” You didn’t think you were supposed to drink when you were sick, but you were far too tired to even think about what was wrong and what was right. If he said that it’d make you feel better, then that had to be a good thing. You’re sure of it.

“Sure will.” He placed a firm, calloused hand on your head and stroked down your hair. You nuzzled into his warmth.

It was such a nice sensation that it almost made you forget that you were supposed to be working. That there were people waiting on you to bring them their food and fetch their creamer, people who were ready to slap your ass and laugh as soon as you turned away.

“I have a,” you started, not really sure where that sentence was going. “I have to go back to work.”

As you began walking away, Katsuki stopped you, pulling you back over so your face was practically pressed up against his chest. “No you don’t. You’re sick, remember?”

Right, as if you hadn’t forgotten. But he was right. You were sick and your medicine hadn’t kicked in yet. You couldn’t risk spreading your germs and getting anyone else sick.

You watched the dinner guests from afar. You leaned in to hear conversations about hitmen and other rivaling mobs around town. Some were about money laundering and clients that needed to be taken out, whatever that meant.

At one point, someone asked to pull Katsuki aside and talk alone, but instead he just pulled you closer.

“The hell do you want, Yoarashi?”

Yoarashi was a big guy, bigger than Katsuki, but it was clear even to you that he was intimidated by the blonde in front of him.

“You owe me for what I let you borrow last month.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

To you, they sounded like they were underwater and you weren’t sure what they were discussing, but you were curious to learn more.

“Come on, Bakugou. Work with me here.”

“I’m a busy man, Yoarashi. Now get out of my face before I have my men take care of you.”

Something about the raw power and the threatening tone behind Katsuki’s voice made you excited. You wanted to melt into his words, but you weren’t sure why.

“Busy man?” Yoarashi scoffed. “Come on, Bakugou. You’ve barely been seen all night. Where have you been, fucking this little lackey of yours?”

He didn’t mean you, did he? Before you could even comprehend what he just insinuated, Katsuki turned you around and pressed your face up against his chest. You could feel yourself growing even hotter as you were pushed into one of his pectorals. One of his hands cupped the back of your head. Was he protecting you?

“Listen here,” you heard him say. “Don’t contact us ever again unless you want to end up like your first boss did. I can make your life a living hell and I will, got that?”

“Don’t think I don’t have other contacts, all right? You aren’t the only one in this town with resources, Bakugou.”

You felt something jab into the other side of Katsuki’s chest. Did Yoarashi hit him? A few seconds went by before you heard the snapping of fingers and two men came over to drag Yoarashi away.

Katsuki released the hold he had on you, and you watched as the tall man struggled out of his hold. “You aren’t gonna tell anyone what you saw here tonight, right princess?”

You shook your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you felt when you saw that man being dragged away. You were scared, of course; scared for your own life and of the raw power that Katsuki seemed to hold. But on top of fear there was something else. There was a tingle between your thighs that wouldn’t seem to go away, and there was also a sense of excitement. Out of all the people here, this man was paying attention to you. You were far from Mafia material, but he clearly saw something in you and you wanted more of his gaze lingering on you.

Your mind felt hazy with Katsuki and you wanted even more. You didn’t know what to do when you felt him smooth his hand down your back. You didn’t know what to do when his usual smirk turned into something much more dangerous. And you didn’t know what to do when he leaned over and pressed his lips against your own.

His lips felt heavenly as they explored you. They were soft and welcoming despite his cold and dangerous exterior. His tongue probed its way into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and something else which you assumed was just him. He bit your lip and it felt like he smiled when you let out a moan.

When he released, you felt as if the whole world was spinning with Katsuki. You wobbled around a bit and he chuckled. You tried asking if you could sit down, but the words refused to come out. The last thing you remember is seeing the world go black, the sound of the clients’ dinner fading out of earshot, and two strong arms carrying you away from reality.

You were in pain by the time you woke up. Your body, especially your head, ached tremendously and you wished the sun would stop shining so bright through your window. But wait, the window in your bedroom at your apartment faced another building. The sun never shined too bright in the morning when you were at home.

Slowly, you peaked your head out from under the covers and looked around. You weren’t in your bedroom, but you were in a bedroom. The bed you had been asleep in was enormous, but aside from that there was not much else furniture in the room or even any pictures to signify who the room could belong to.

It wasn’t until you sat up that you realized just how exposed you were under the covers. You couldn’t find your clothing anywhere. What were you even wearing last night? Where were you last night?

You remembered being sick and being called into work by Kirishima. You were stressed. You were nauseous. There was a beautiful woman who asked for someone in particular but you were too sick to remember what their name was, right?

And then you raced to the bathroom and met--

A groan from beside you shook you out of your thoughts, and as soon as you saw the person lying in bed next to you, all of your memories came flooding back.

“Morning, baby girl,” Katsuki said.

You didn’t know what to say. Your mouth hung open and you felt lightheaded.

Katsuki was shirtless under the covers and you were too scared to ask if he had anything on covering his lower half. “You put on quite the show last night.”

Last night. Where you met him. What did you do last night? “I...” You didn’t know what to say, and that made Katsuki let out a booming laugh.

“Come on, you remember at least a little of it don’t you?”

You shook your head. Then you shook your head again. You couldn’t stop shaking your head.

Katsuki put a hand on your shoulder and you stopped. He had a shit eating grin spread across his face that you wanted to both punch and kiss at the same time. “First throwing up at my party and then getting blackout drunk in front of all my guests.”

“What?” You could barely remember anything. What did he mean ‘his party’? The clients’ dinner was run by…

Your eyes widened as you realized just who you had found yourself naked in bed with. Who had found you puking on the bathroom floor. Who that stunningly gorgeous woman was asking for earlier.

You clamped a hand over your mouth and Katsuki let out another chuckle. “You really were the life of the party.” He grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to his side of the bed, and you let him. He dragged his hand up and down your exposed body and roughly cupped your sex. “I had a blast toying around with you last night, but now I want you to be able to remember what it feels like when I bury my cock inside of you, sweetheart.”

You hated the way he was grabbing you and the way he forced your legs to open up for him, but what you hated more than any of that was the way his words made your inner thighs ache and how they instinctively parted just for him.

You turned away as he leaned down to smother your chest with rough kisses, and as you looked over to your left hand, you couldn’t help but notice a diamond ring that wasn’t there the night before.

[welldonebeca]

No Need to Rush

Summary: When you realise you can’t trust anyone to be your first, you ask Thor to be the one to take your virginity. It goes very, very well. Pairing: Thor x Plus-Size!Female!Reader WC: 4.5k words Warnings: Virginity loss, fluff, smut, praise kink, unprotected sex, friends with benefits relationship. Reader is an adult and has an IUD though it went without mentioning, so wrap it if you tap it, guys.

If you like my work, consider supporting me or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $3 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

You rubbed your hands together as you stared at the clock on your wall, practically bouncing from one foot to the other as you waited for the time Thor was supposed to arrive at your place.

He wasn’t late. Actually, you got everything done early, so you could dress up and get ready to welcome him into your flat.

You’d used the last hour to shave and moisturise, follow your skincare, do a hair mask, blow dry it and put on some light makeup and even a little spray thing your friend had given you to make it last longer – and also make your skin shine a little bit.

You tried to dress up casually, with a dress and sandals, though you thought of wearing something else but opted out of it for practical reasons. After all, you wanted him to have easy access to you.

See, you were a virgin. And it was because you wanted it, of course. It wasn’t for any religious reason or fantasy of waiting with a prince charming: You just never really felt like you wanted to have sex, be it casual or with a partner, and it was never a problem to you. Except that you changed your mind a few months ago, and when that happened you realised that you had a little problem.

No one wanted to be your first.

You were an adult, out of college and with a full life. You owned your own house, paid your own bills and was out of debt thanks to your hard work, and that meant that the people you went out with were also adult out of college with a full life – and many more years of experience with sex than you. And none of those men wanted you.

It was ridiculous. They said they were afraid of hurting you too much, making it so bad that you would hate sex – which made zero sense. Also, you had a feeling part of them thought you being a virgin also meant you never had an orgasm, which was far from the truth.

So you remembered who your best friend was.

Thor. Son of Odin and Asgardian superhero.

Asgard had a different culture from the one you were used to. They were casual about things like nudity and sex, which meant friends had sex without implying that the two people were supposed to have a relationship before or after such a thing. So your idea was simple: To ask Thor to have sex with you.

It made sense. He was over a thousand and a half years old, which meant he had at least a thousand of them of experience with sex with men, women, other genders, and other species. So why not?

And why were you nervous?

The sound of the doorbell ringing made you jump and change your focus, and you rushed to open it when you saw Thor through the magic eye.

“Good evening,” he smiled. “I hope I’m not too early? Should I…”

“No, no,” you answered quickly, hoping he couldn’t see how nervous you were. “And you’re basically here all the time, you’re not even a guest any more.”

He laughed, and you closed the door behind your back while the big blond man walked into your home with the familiarity of someone who was there almost all the time.

“What is the occasion?” he asked. “You sounded so expectant on the phone, got me very curious.”

You swallowed down, not sure of what to say. Should you tell him already? Wasn’t it too early?

“There’s no occasion,” you laughed nervously. “You know, I’m just… I guess I wanted to see you, it’s been a while since we got to hang out together, just the two of us, you know?”

Thor nodded, not looking like he believed it, and you rushed in front of him.

“Let’s go to the kitchen,” you offered. “I got us some junk food. You know, those bacon burgers you like so much and fries, the delivery guy just left.”

You could hear him behind you and see his big shadow, and you could see him smile at the food when you glanced back. It was from his favourite restaurant, after all.

“Dive in,” you tried to smile.

“Aren’t you going to eat?

“I… will,” you confirmed. “Of course. Obviously, I will.”

You weren’t hungry at all.

Thor took one of the burgers in his hand, and you looked away. Holy shit, his hands were huge.

He was huge.

He was probably big there, right?

Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe you should ask Tony. Tony would have sex with you, right? With a little convincing, sure, but he liked sex and wouldn’t be weird about it, not too much.

No. You were closer to Thor, you trust Thor way more with this. He wouldn’t overthink it, he wouldn’t be weird about it, and he would be good at it, which was important.

But how would you even ask him? You couldn’t just ask straight up his face, but you couldn’t seduce him either!

“What are you cooking up?” your friend questioned again, chewing his food while staring at you. “You got that look on your face. What do you want to ask me?”

The words left your lips before you could even think of what you were going to say.

“Would you have sex with me if I asked you?” you requested, dead-panned, staring at him.

There were several reactions people could have when asked that question. Some would be surprised, maybe choke on their food. Some would stop eating and stare at you. Others would even leave.

Thor?

Thor didn’t even stop eating. It was like you had just asked him about the weather.

“Yeah, of course,” he dunked his French Fry into the small container with ranch sauce.

You froze in your spot, stopping mid-thought, ready to give out a speech. That was it? He wasn’t going to say anything about it? Just ‘of course’?

“Tonight?” you insisted.

That made him stop and turn to look at you, still chewing his food.

“Are we in a rush?” he checked the clock. “Can I finish or do you have something to do later?”

You blinked several times but swallowed down, shaking your head.

“Uh… no,” you denied. “No, no. I’m not in a rush, I don’t have anything else to do until the day after tomorrow.”

He nodded and went back into eating.

You watched Thor with your eyebrows furrowed and tilted your head.

“Don’t you have any questions?” you asked.

Your friend shook his head and put his burger down.

“You are a virgin,” he pointed out. “I know you’re not waiting for someone or doing it for any religious reason, but finding someone you trust enough to have your first time is hard and you trust me, obviously.”

You blinked again, speechless. Those were the exact words of the speech you were preparing for when he asked about your choice.

“Yeah,” you said simply, unable to even say anything else.

“I’m very touched, actually,” he smiled. “Thank you for trusting me with the experience. I will certainly do my best to make it memorable.”

You opened and closed your mouth, almost like a fish, and just decided over closing it while thinking of your next words.

“Thank you for saying yes.”

He just grinned more and moved to his food, and you relaxed. Your heart calmed down, and you were finally able to sit by his side, reaching for the fries and eating them slowly before freezing in your place.

Did Thor expect you to brush your teeth before him? Cause that sauce certainly had onions on it, and you weren’t sure if…

“Y/N,” your friend called by your side.

“Hum?”

“You’re overthinking again,” he pointed out.

You flushed, rubbing circles on your elbow.

“Sorry, sorry,” you muttered. “I’m just… I don’t even know what to say, sorry.”

You moved your hands to your face, covering your eyes and your burning cheeks, and jumped when he grabbed your wrists and slowly moved them down.

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want it.”

You shook your head quickly.

“No, no. I do, I want it,” you affirmed. “I’m just nervous. I don’t know what to expect, or how to start or...”

He caressed the back of your hands with his thumbs.

“We could start with a kiss,” he said simply. “And take it as fast or as slow as you want.”

You nodded, agreeing with him and taking a deep breath.

“Yeah,” you closed your eyes, breathing deep. “A kiss is fine.”

You had just opened your eyes when his lips touched yours and froze in shock when you first felt it, relaxing when he started pulling away and stared at your eyes in a questioning way, and you just nodded before reaching for him and kissing him this time.

Thor’s hand moved from your hands to your waist, and he pulled you closer, making you yelp as he lifted you. That made him smile against your lips.

You wrapped your legs around his body and your arms around his shoulders just as Thor started walking to what you guess was your bedroom. He didn’t stumble or hit any place and opened and closed the door, so quickly you barely noticed the change, still kissing him.

His beard was rubbing against your face, but you didn’t even mind. His tongue was moving against yours tortuously, and when he was about to move away, his teeth caught your bottom lip in between them delicately, making your whole body shiver.

You didn’t even have time to recover from it, though, as your friend started kissing your neck and testing your sensitive spots, causing a whine to leave your lips, and your hips jumped at the feeling of his hands on your thighs, slowly pushing your dress up

“You’re so sensitive,” he chuckled, moving a little back so that you could see his face and making slow circles over your skin, raising his gaze to yours. “Talk to me, okay? I need to know what feels good and what you’re uncomfortable with.”

You nodded and your eyelids fluttered close when he moved closer to you again, kissing the exposed skin of your chest and over your collarbones.

You sighed.

“I… uh…” you stumbled with your words through short breaths. “You can keep doing that. It’s good.”

Thor hummed a confirmation.

“Good,” he muttered, taking one hand up and pulling your dress down under your breasts, exposing your bra to him.

It was the best one you owned – which wasn’t exactly a lot to say. You weren’t exactly a skinny woman, and there weren’t many pretty bras for your size, so you just opted for comfort. This one had a little lace over its cup, so it was nice.

“You’re so pretty,” Thor whispered, kissing the top of your breast, and you squirmed on his lap.

You moved closer to his body, and your eyes widened when you felt him against your crotch.

He was… hard. Quite hard. Really hard.

“Oh,” you gasped, unable to keep the word in.

He moved away from you, but the tingling from his touch stayed.

“Good ‘oh’?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Good ‘oh’.”

Thor grinned and moved back onto kissing your skin, and his hand moved up your thigh, jumping to caress your stomach, which made you suck it in.

“Hey,” he whispered and looked up at your face just as your cheeks went warm in embarrassment. “I’ve known you for years and always found you beautiful. I don’t give a single fuck about the size of anything in your body, especially your stomach.”

You relaxed your shoulders slowly, and he moved his fingers slowly up and down, gently brushing your skin, coaxing you while kissing the top of your breasts again, approaching the hem of the fabric covering them and licking the place right above it until you breathed and released your stomach.

“Good girl,” he muttered.

A shiver ran over your body in response, but you didn’t have time to react to it, as Thor was already pushing your dress away, taking it off and exposing the most skin you’ve ever even exposed to his eyes.

“Gorgeous,” he smiled, setting the piece aside and raising his face to push your lips together again, growing bolder by the second with his hands, holding your hips gently before making a slow trail that ended up on the top of your breast, making you feel the warmth through his touch.

You moved your hands from his shoulders pushing your fingers in his hair and earning a sigh from him, and Thor pulled away, though still rubbing his nose against yours.

“Can I push it down?” he played with the top of your bra cup.

You hummed positively, unsure if you would be able to fully answer, and he used a couple of fingers to push your bra away, struggling for a moment with it before looking up at you, and you pulled away, biting your lower lip with the bold thought that rushed over your brain, quickly acting on it before you changed your mind.

“You can just take it off if you want to,” you whispered, still resting your forehead on his. “I don’t mind.”

He chuckled.

“Was it expensive?” he asked.

“Uh, a bit,” you hesitated. “Bras my size that are both pretty and comfortable are usually a bit overpriced.”

He raised his eyes to yours.

“What’s your size?”

You answered it under your breath and Thor nodded.

“I’ll replace it,” he whispered.

You frowned in confusion at his words, but yelped when he grabbed the fabric between your breasts in his fingers and ripped the bra in the middle.

He didn’t give you time to protest the act, either. Before you could say anything, he moved his face down and pressed his lips against your skin, kissing and licking you and sending shivers all over your skin until his mouth was close to your nipple.

You could feel his breath over you pebbled bud, and waited for his tongue, his lips or even his teeth with closed eyes, but nothing came, and you finally realised why.

He was waiting for your permission.

“Please,” you muttered.

Thor didn’t answer verbally, but he didn’t really can. His lips were the first thing you felt on your skin, and you whimpered you felt it on you.

You couldn’t help clenching the hand you hand in his hair, slightly pulling on it and earning a little moan from you, and you covered your mouth without thinking.

Thor’s hand caught your wrist in an instant.

“No,” he affirmed. “I want to hear you.”

You swallowed down, feeling your cheeks heating up. You lived alone and your walls were soundproof – a perk of you surely enjoyed – but you were pretty silent even when you were pleasuring yourself.

“It’s okay,” he rubbed a gentle circle on your lower back. “Don’t worry.”

You took in a deep breath, and Thor licked slow circles over your areola, covering your nipple with his soft lips and sucking on it enthusiastically, making you squirm and grind against his cock, and Thor’s big hand cupped your free breast, thumb and forefingers coming to imitate the movements of his teeth over your opposite nipple.

You grew bolder, and moved your hands down, brushing your fingers over the skin over his neck before reaching down to his hips, pulling Thor’s shirt up, trying to get him to remove it, and you could feel his lips curving as he chuckled against your breast, the sound and feel of the scratch of his facial hair sending a wave of wetness to your already soaked pussy.

“Impatient?” he joked.

You flushed more, warm not on your cheeks but chest too.

“I’m in just one piece of underwear,” you pointed out. “And you are completely dressed.”

He smirked.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I don’t know how I didn’t notice before.”

He pushed you away from his body delicately, laying you on the bed and stepping away from it before pulling his shirt over his head while kicking off his shoes, not worried at all about being sexy, but managing to be the hottest vision you’d seen in quite some time.

“Impatient?” you said his words back to him when he rushed to push his pants down.

When the denim went past his bulge, you swallowed down in pure shock when you realised that he was wearing nothing underneath, and his cock practically jumped out of its confinement, rock hard and red, proudly standing erect even under its own weight. Fuck, he was big. And thick.

“Now who is overdressed?” he pointed at your underwear, and you swallowed down, pushing it down quickly and pushing it randomly aside.

Thor’s hand moved to fist his cock, and you felt your own pussy clenching around nothing in hunger.

Your eyes moved up to his face and found him licking his lips, swallowing down in response and shuddering when he walked back to your back, kneeling right between your legs, and you spread them to give him more space, which caused his eyes to go right to your pussy.

You closed your eyes in embarrassment for a moment but opened them quickly when you felt his lips touching your stomach and moving downwards without an ounce of hesitance.

“Thor,” you breathed out.

“I need to taste you,” he whispered, taking a hand to your knee and pushing it up, exposing more of you to his eyes as your legs spread wider. “So beautiful.”

You moaned out loud, out of control, when he stuck out his tongue and licked you from your cunt to your clit, closing his lips over it and sucking gently, though firmly, on it.

“Thor!” you sucked in a breath, grabbing the sheets by your side, and he threw his arm over your hips, keeping you in place.

You had vibrators and dildos, and you were pretty sure you were the best person who would ever finger your own pussy, but this…

This felt like heaven.

No one would ever masturbate you better than yourself, but you couldn’t eat yourself out.

And you were pretty sure no one would be as good at eating you as Thor right at this moment.

“Fuck,” you hissed, throwing your head back when he pushed his finger inside you.

“Soon,” he chuckled. “Need to make you cum first, sweetheart.”

Your pussy clenched around him, and Thor looked up at your face with a smirk before pulling his finger out and pushing a second one into you, curling them and making you squirm.

“You’re not too far from it,” you gasped, and he laughed, spreading his finger inside you before moving his mouth to your clit once again.

Yep. Not too far from it indeed.

Fuck, you were going to have some beard burn on your labia when he was done, but you really didn’t care.

Your whole body trembling, and you dug onto his back with your heel and your body fought to push against his mouth, blood boiling and skin overly sensitive, shivering in response to the pleasure overtaking you.

“Thor,” you whimpered, trying to move closer to him. “Gotta… I need...”

He put his lips around your clit once again, sucking on it and pushing his fingers into you in a steady rhythm, holding you close and keeping your body down, arm around your hips to keep them from pushing against his face.

“Please,” you threw your head back, closing your eyes shut as pleasure-filled your body and your eyes filled with tears from how overwhelming this all felt.

“Let go for me, dear,” he whispered. “Let me feel it, let me taste it.”

You whimpered and moaned, shuddering and calling out his name as he continued to eat you out, moaning against you and sending more vibrations over you, only moving away when you tried to push him away from your pussy, pulling him back to kiss your lips.

You could taste yourself on him and feel some wetness rubbing onto your skin from his beard, and it made it all hotter.

“Need you to fuck me,” you whimpered against his mouth. “Need-… fuck me.”

He rested a hand on your side.

“Not yet,” he pulled away from your lips. “Need… to...”

You didn’t let him finish.

“I’m ready,” you interrupted him. “I’ve had toys inside me, it’s not that different.”

He hesitated, looking into your eyes, but you simply nodded again, trying to reassure him and Thor pulled away slowly and reaching for you.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“We’ll make it in a way that’s comfortable for you,” he explained, sitting back on the bed against the headboard.

You licked your lips as your eyes saw his cock, standing and leaking precum.

You really wanted him in your mouth.

“Y/n,” he called your name, making your eyes move back to his.

Your cheeks warmed up.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

He chuckled.

“No need to be sorry,” he smirked. “I can teach you next time.”

Next time?

Thor didn’t give you time to react, though, pulling you closer, and you climbed on top of him, sitting on his thighs before raising up, and Thor held you with a hand while taking his cock in another.

“Take your time,” he caressed your skin. “No need to rush.”

You took in a deep breath when you first felt the head of his cock against your entrance, closing your eyes and descending on it, almost in an invasion. It wasn’t painful, but it was definitively new, nothing like the dildos you’d had inside you. It was harder. Hotter.

“There you go,” he whispered, eyes closed and lips parted open. “You’re doing so good, Y/N.”

You moaned, pussy clenching around him from the praising, and Thor’s eyes opened to meet yours.

“You like it?’ he asked in a mutter.

You rook in a deep breath, nervous, and he tightened his hand on you.

“Do you like it when I say how good you are?” he whispered. “When I point out how you’re being a good girl?”

You flushed. One thing you never told anyone – not even Thor – was about your praising kink.

“Yeah,” you whimpered.

Thor kissed you again, taking his free hand to your pussy and petting your cli.

“You’re so good,” he whispered against your mouth. “So beautiful, feel so good...”

You whimpered, sinking more onto him and gasping.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he rubbed your nose on yours. “You’re taking my cock so well. Your pussy is so wet for me.”

Your walls clenched around him in response and, finally, you completely sat on him, feeling completely full to the fucking brink, body fighting to stretch around him.

“How does it feel?” he asked. “Tell me, baby, please.”

You panted.

“Feel good,” you whimpered. “Full.”

His finger swiped on your clit, making circles over on it with intent.

“My good sweet virgin isn’t a virgin any more,” he joked.

You chuckled, and he helped to support your hips as you moved over him, trying to ride his cock and give him as much pleasure as he was giving you.

“Feel so honoured,” he kissed your lips. “Thank you for trusting me, sweetheart.”

You rested your forehead over his, feeling your orgasm crippling up your body and feeling your legs weakening.

“You’re gonna cum?” he whispered close to your lips. “I can feel it on my cock, sweetheart. Feel so good. I’m just sliding in, you’re so wet.”

You panted, eyes closed and your moans breaking through your lips.

“For you,” you cried out, trying to keep your rhythm. “Feel… need...”

“Cum for me, baby,” he requested. “Let me feel it, let me have that sweet pussy cumming on my cock”

You whimpered and his fingers increased their speed, driving you closer to the edge.

“Be a good girl, and give it to me,” he whispered. “Go on, baby, let me feel it. Cum for me, let go.”

You put your hands on his shoulders, using them as leverage, but you feel forward when your orgasm reached you, making you clench around his cock in more pleasure than you ever thought you’d feel with someone.

Thor kissed your lips with hunger, tangling his fingers in your hair and keeping you close to his body.

“Can I take over?” he whispered. “Uh? Will you let me fuck you, good girl? Let me make you feel good, just like you deserve?”

You whimpered, legs weak over his body, and just nodded, yelped when he changed your positions, laying you on the mattress and raising one of your legs to give himself more space.

“Perfect pussy,” he kissed your neck.

Your cunt fluttered around his cock and Thor groaned, squeezing your thigh tightly in his hand.

“Don’t stop,” you moaned.

It felt better than good, and when he moved to caress your clit, you practically wailed.

“Fuck fuck, fuck,” you moaned, throwing your head back as you shook from the unexpected orgasm that reached you.

Thor growled over you, sucking on the available skin over your neck and shoulders, moaning onto your skin as his hips moved rapidly against yours, making the sound of skin against skin and wetness echoed through your bedroom.

“Not yet,” he muttered, more to himself than you, and you moved your hands to his hair, pulling him to your lips.

You kissed him, wrapping your legs around him and digging your heels to his back.

As he’d done before, it was your time to encourage him.

“Cum for me,” you whispered against his lips. “Wanna feel it, please, Thor. Please, fill me up.”

He moaned darkly against your lips, pushing against your pussy, and the hand he had on your pussy rested by your side, and he kissed your lips again as his hips moved with no real rhythm, just erratic as he came and spilt inside you.

“How do you feel?” he asked, caressing your cheek as he lied by your side. “Does anything hurt?”

You shook your head, feeling so lazy.

“Feel good,” you whispered. “Kinda sleepy.”

He chuckled.

“We should shower,” he caressed your hair. “Relax your muscles, put on some lotion, so you won’t have beard burn.”

You whimpered, laying on top of him and closing your eyes when Thor wrapped his arm around you.

“Can we cuddle?” you whimpered. “Just a bit.”

He nodded, making circles on your back and resting his chin over your head.

“We can,” he assured you. “Do you want to have a nap?”

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you yawned. “You tired me out.”

Thor chuckled.

“Okay, then,” he kissed your forehead. “Take a few minutes. I’ll wake you up.”

. . .

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[sweettodo]

eren jaeger x reader.

includes : smut, college au, bad plot, enemies to lovers-ish, hate sex, mention of anal play, swearing.

wc : 3k.

thank you for 700 followers ! and since it was just mr. jaeger’s bday, why not a little fic ?

—

"This is your fault, you shouldn't have let the door shut, the door gets jammed."

"How was I supposed to know?" he replies coolly, you shove past him, frantically grabbing the doorknob and turning it, back and forth. It was no use, the old wooden door was jammed tight into the frame, not even he could get it to budge.

"Are you hard of hearing?"

"Out of all people, I get stuck in a dingy bedroom with you."

—

It wasn't the best. It was border-line decrepit, all sorts of unkempt; but admittedly, it was all you and your friends could afford.

Doing what you could to stay afloat with rent, not to mention your thousands of dollars in college debt, you couldn't necessarily afford to stay on campus; so, you sought out any possible preventative strategy not to go back home, what any adolescent college student would do.

"Well, it's homey... I guess?" Connie announces, cautiously seating a box on the ground.

Beside him, Jean wipes his forehead, "are we getting paid for this?" he questions.

You raise an eyebrow, "Yeah, sure, whatever you want."

"Thanks, boys, that's enough for now, hungry?" Sasha smiles, placing a pizza box on the kitchen counter.

Truly, the house wasn't that bad, though there were some problems like any old home, like the creaky floorboards which dipped downwards in some areas of the house, or the shudders Jean had to nail back into place, or maybe that one non-working bathroom.

Yes, there were some issues, and you knew one thing for sure.

Do not close your bedroom door.

It jammed, and it jammed easily, which you found out the hard way when you had to have your two roomies pry the door open the previous day, hence the rock from outside being positioned to stop the door from closing entirely.

You all sit on the floor in the living room, devouring pizza and drinking as you all conversed and laughed.

While Connie is getting up to pour himself another drink, there's a knock on the door, "oh, finally- thought he was gonna bail on us!"

Connie quickly places his cup down and jogs to the front door, all eyes follow him.

"Eren!"

"What took you all day? Connie and I did practically everything!" Jean complains. Your face heats, fists clenching.

"I did not invite him." You grit, Mikasa glancing at you, concerned.

"Calm down, he's more man-power."

"We've done so much without him, why does he even bother?"

Eren dismisses your complaining, he sits down and grabs a piece of pizza, "it's not like a chose to come here, Mikasa wanted me to."

Your eyes drill into Mikasa's skull, she knew how you felt about him, and she knows how he feels about you. She brushes off your daggers.

"I'm not here to help you," he proceeds, "you wouldn't catch me dead."

"Well, while Jean and I run to the store to get more nails, how 'bout you help the girls?" Connie says, ignoring Eren's last remark.

"I don't need his help, I'm okay on my own."

"Y/n- take his help." Sasha nudges, "free labor."

Your perspective of Eren was nothing short of revulsion, his only conversation piece is how many women he's slept with, how he struts around like he owns the place, he's quite contemptuous, selfish, and arrogant.

He felt similar towards you, often the first one to ruin his day. The way you were so prideful, he too thought you were arrogant, he hated how you made him feel inferior, you were a challenge- you both were complacent and it drove him fucking nuts, as did you.

Standing from the floor, you brush your hands on your shorts, "I'll be in my room," you mutter, trudging up the stairs.

"You outta' help her, Eren," Sasha says, watching you walk up the stairs, "please."

The brunette shakes his head, "hell fuckin' no."

"Eren," Mikasa speaks lowly, her tone compelling, he rolls his eyes.

Picking up the screwdriver from the floor, pushing your hair out of your face, you get down on your knees and lift the bottom half of your bed frame, the little screw in your empty hand, you groan.

"Need a little help?"

Your head snaps around, "get out of my room, now."

"I thought you were this rough-tough- independent woman?" he ridicules.

You ignore him, "can't even put a bed together, how pitiful."

He steps closer, leaning against the door in your room, which was propped against the wall with the rock, his arms crossed tightly against his chest, "get out of the way."

"No. Eren I got it."

"Just get up and let me do it."

"I'll ask Mikasa, she's stronger than you anyways."

"Give me a break, how about you swallow your pride for once, you can't do everything, y/n."

He scoffs, attempting to absorb the insult, "plus, she isn't here, she and Sasha left." Your eyes widen, feeling much more uncomfortable than moments before. You gently place the bed frame on the floor in front of your knees, sighing, "let me do it-"

He slowly stands from his position, his foot knocking the rock out of place as he leans off the door following behind him, as he steps further into the room, you leap towards the shutting door.

"Eren! The fucking door!" you cry, seeing it shut mere inches from your grasp, "it doesn't open from the inside!" you shout, scrambling to your feet, Eren quickly turns, his hands landing against the old wood as he tries to pull it open, but it was too late.

"This is your fault, you shouldn't have let the door shut, the door gets jammed."

"How was I supposed to know?" he replies coolly, you shove past him, frantically grabbing the doorknob and turning it, back and forth. It was no use, the old wooden door was jammed tight into the frame, not even he could get it to budge.

"Are you hard of hearing?"

"Out of all people, I get stuck in a dingy bedroom with you."

"Spare me your kind words, Jaeger." You grumble.

"Where's your phone? Call Mikasa or Jean." Eren pats his pockets, in search of his phone.

"It's downstairs- my phone."

"So is mine," he sighs, sticking his hands in his pockets, "aren't I lucky; stuck in a room with a prissy bitch."

"Do you like making me mad, Eren? Because I'm not one of your hoes you can insult and get away with it." Gritting your teeth, he smiles cheekily, God you can't fucking stand him.

He remains silent, while tensions rise within the walls of your room, avoiding his eyes, you uncomfortably shuffle your feet, looking at the wood flooring beneath you, Eren is beside you, pacing, "I'll break the fucking thing down."

"You better not. Or else you're paying for it."

"I'm not paying for shit," he contends, "it's your shitty house, your shitty door, my shitty luck.”

You face him, he rolls his eyes, "if you break my door, Jaeger..." you threaten, sticking your index finger in his face.

"What are you gonna do? Y/n?"

You cross your arms, he shrugs and turns around on his heels, grabbing the doorknob and trying to pry the door open, he steps back and cracks his knuckles, "Eren, don't you fucking do it." You grab him by the back of his shirt, he stops.

"What are you gonna do?" he leans down to meet your height, tilting his head, "gonna punish me?"

You gulp, "how about I fix your bed while I'm here, since I'm so nice."

"No." You spit, "I'll do it, you stay in the corner and shut up." Pushing him away, but he stands still, a smug look still on his face.

"Why be so difficult?"

"Why do you always need the last word?" anger seething within you, little pieces of hair falling from the loose bun the hair tie he had holding back his bangs, you looked in his eyes, just waiting for him to speak.

"Do you like being stubborn?" Eren steps closer, as a result, you're stepping backward, and soon he figuratively has you backed into a corner.

Eren returns the glare, your heart thumping out of your chest, throat dry and closing by every second he kept his brutal eyes on yours.

You swallow, "always trying to make me mad, right?"

"Not everything is about you, Jaeger."

"No, but it is about you though," he hums, "don't you want me to shut up? How about you try to shut me up- since it's always about you."

You hadn't picked up on the sudden rush of adrenaline that pumped into your veins, which made you - quite literally - want to crumble, but you remained dominant. His rather vibrant eyes were tough ones to overpower, you guys just stood there, trying to wield your dominance over the other.

You two were power-hungry.

Eren on the other hand was trying like hell to prevail calm, you made him so mad, made him fucking furious, he contemplated leaping out of the second-story window, though one thing was keeping his feet grounded, looming over you.

And that was defeating you.

"I reckon you have more of a problem with me rather than the other way ‘round, you don't like it when I argue with you, Eren?" you teasingly pout, snickering in his face.

His eyes are low, seductive even, you had never seen him in this light, he looked restless, but he was undoubtedly annoyed.

It's his turn to smile, his fingers snaking around your wrist, pulling you down onto the mattress which lacked pillows, sheets, and a headboard.

You comply, his fingers anchoring into the back of your hair, pulling your head back, your neck training, “you gonna shut me up? Y/n?" you're speechless, seems as if he beat you to this little game.

“You piss me off. Jaeger.” You sneer, he leans down, face inches from your own.

“Yeah? I make you mad?” he purrs, dipping his head down towards your neck and pressing his lips against your ear lobe, chills erupt on every inch of your body.

You're left speechless once again, breathless as his hand slips down the curve of your waist, up to your thigh, stopping at your knee, “yeah... You do.”

He uses your knee to push your legs onto the bed, his hand guiding you, he swiftly gets on the bed, back against the wall; placing his palm on the back of your neck, pulling you between his legs, trapping you as he's kissing you firmly.

You're taken aback, but return the kiss, his soft lips colliding with yours, he tasted amazing, but you wouldn't admit that to him.

As if the gates had finally bursted open, your motions are picking up speed, he’s fiercely pulling at your shorts and without a second thought, you're rushing to tug his shirt over his head, giving hardly a second for air before you're kissing the man again.

What’s gotten into you?

You adjust so he can pull your shorts over your knees, flinging them across the room, your hands wandering up and down his chest, feeling his toned stomach beneath your fingers.

His big hands are grabbing you by the back of the thighs, pulling you closer to him so he can easily pin your back to the bed. With a huff, he kisses further down your neck, his lips tickling your skin as he begins to lift the thin shirt towards your chest, kissing down your stomach.

Eren can't take it anymore, all that was going through his mind was how soft your skin was, how good you smelled, the way he felt you shiver under him when he kisses the sweet spot on the side of your neck.

He uses the pad of his thumb to press against your damp panties, you gasp, his thumb locating your clit instantly and applying pressure on the swollen nub.

“Stop teasing, Eren.”

He smirks, slowly applying little circles over the thin undergarments, pinning one thigh down at the same time, he watches your face scrunch.

He leans down between your legs to kiss you again, pulling down his jeans in the meantime, you feel his erection through his boxers, pressing against the crevis between your thigh and cunt.

He sits up, yanking down your panties along with his boxers, your eyes nearly fall out of your head, catching a glimpse at the sheer size of the man.

He spits in his palm, messily stroking his cock a few times before making sure your leg is secure on his shoulder.

No words needed to be spoken- no conversation could be made at the fact things were moving so fast, similar to hungry animals, like a switch flipped and here you two were, soaking for a man you despised.

His tip slips up and down towards your entrance, repeatedly teasing you against your folds with his throbbing tip.

Finally, he gradually slips past your entrance, his head rolls back, body virtually falling weak as he soaks in those spongy tight walls, sucking him in immediately, “fuck,” is all he can sputter out, taking his time to seep deeper inside you.

He stretches you out, Eren’s veins which were wrapped around the base of his cock pressing against your electrified nerves, your back arching, quietly moaning as he eventually stuffs you with as much as you can take.

“You hate me? This pussy sure doesn't.” he grunts, retreating before rocking his hips back against you.

Your leg drops from his shoulder, “on your hands and knees, now.” he demands- not having to tell you twice, he’s quickly grabbing you, and with ease, you're now on all fours, exposed from the waist down, Eren’s hands spreading you open, pulling your ass apart so he can get the perfect view of his cock fucking into you.

This gives Eren the chance to now fit his whole length into you, crying out into the bare mattress, feeling his tip stab against the entrance of your cervix.

He pulls out, one hand steadying your waist and the other holding your ass, “such a tight cunt, can't even fit it all.”

Eren splits you open, thrusting into you while simultaneously pulling your hips against his, skin slapping, the both of you moaning as you're already releasing cream all over his cock.

You feel his thumb caress the skin around the valley of your ass, “such a pretty little hole, want me to fill this one too?”

With no hesitation, you're crying out a sloppy mantra of ‘yes’, and he follows your decrees, his thumb slipping past your unoccupied hole.

You instantly clench around him, the pressure of another hole being stuffed.

Nearing another orgasm, he ruts his hips against your thighs, seeing white, your stomach tightens, body attempting to escape the harsh pressure, unraveling from the arch you were trying hard to maintain.

“Again?” Eren’s amazed at the sight, your cum seeping from your pussy, soaking the little patch of curly hair above his cock, down your thighs and onto the mattress, your leg quivering as he spares you no mercy, shamelessly fucking into you.

He holds your hips steady, “Eren, s’ big, I can't-”

“Can't what? Can't take it? I thought you were such a strong girl?” he taunts, cruelly rutting into you.

You're drooling, tears falling down your face as he fucks you senseless, “fuck you,” you mewl, he slows, but still keeps up his strong and stabbing thrusts, your body still jolting every time his cock hits your cervix.

“Fuck-in’ hate you, hate you s’much.”

“Yeah? You hate me? But look at you,” he hooks his thumb deeper into your asshole, “you’re crying for more.” You wail, gasping for air, you craved more, the way his hips knocked against your ass, sending shock waves throughout your body.

“I think I love this sloppy little pussy, too bad you're such a bitch.”

He grabs you by the roots of your hair, fingers hooking and balling your hair into a tight fist, pulling you upwards, gasping for air, “Eren-” you moan, balls slapping against your slick folds and raw clit.

His thrust becomes more sporadic, nearing climax, he savors your warm and squeezing walls before you hear him hiss loudly, his head falling back, eyes screwing shut as he's dumping a load into your abused and stretched little pussy.

“Such a good cunt for an annoying bitch.” He mumbles.

Eren rocks his hips into you, making sure your cunt is sucking and every ounce of his seed is emptied from his cock.

He swears, softening cock slipping out of you as he quickly drops down onto the bed, wiping the sweat from his forehead, you're barely able to flip over, holes still twitching.

All you two can manage to do is catch your breath, the air knocked out of both of you, his seed mixed with your own still oozing out of your cunt, and onto the bed.

He sits up, chest still quickly rising and falling before he's moving off the bed and throwing his clothes on, throwing you your shorts, “get up so it looks like we did something productive,” your head in the clouds, you try to put your shorts on, he sees you and mutters indecent things under his breath, “what? Did I fuck you stupid or something?” you stand off the bed, and he quickly lifts the bed frame off the floor and pops the long screw in.

You peek out the window, the sky a dark milky blue- and to your surprise, there are your friends’ cars.

“Connie, you owe me twenty bucks!”

“Eren, I think they're already home.” You mumble, pulling open the window to get some air before walking back towards the door of your bedroom, pounding on the door, “open the door for me please!”

You give it a few moments, standing there in a daze- legs trembling.

You try to maintain the steadiness of your legs before someone struggles to push the door in, essentially un-jamming the door. Jean is there, with a clown-like grin on his face, Eren looks at him and groans, shaking his head before Jean begins to speak.

[unicorn--prince]

Psa about student loans and scams

Hey so a new phone scam is going around where some automated person is saying you're qualified for a new forgiveness option and if you have defaulted loans it can forgive them

As someone who worked at the student loan servicer Nelnet for 2.5 years I know this is a scam (also because I don't have student loans. So there wouldn't be any to be forgiven).

If you need to know your options for forgiveness and lower payments call your student loan servicer. If it is not a private loan it will either be: Nelnet, Navient, Fed loan servicing, or Great Lakes.

And any legit application these calls say they can help you fill out for a low low price of money, your servicer (being contracted through department of education) can help you fill out that same application for free.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Red Hood (Part 1)

Summary: While on a job, the reader runs into The Red Hood. She discovers his true identity to be Dean Winchester from one of the wealthiest families in the city. She knows he’s made a few enemies and tries to take advantage of that fact to get something she needs in return...

Masterlist

Pairing: Vigilante!Dean x criminal!reader

Word Count: 1,500ish

Warnings: language, fighting

A/N: Enjoy!

________

“Oh, crap,” you said, feeling the binding around your torso. You thought you’d made it out clean. But if it was someone using a gadget like that, it wasn’t any security guard. You grunted as you saw a figure emerge from the shadows, a hood up and a mask covering his eyes. “Let me walk and you can have the money.”

“Not my style,” he said. He walked over carefully, tilting his head at you. His cautious approach stopped when he suddenly stepped over and ripped the mask covering your face off. You scowled at him but he simply stared. “I’m taking you in.”

He bent down and you used the opportunity to swing your legs up and wrap around his neck. He went wide eyed and glared at you but you smirked.

“Goodnight Mr. Vigilante,” you said. He tried pulling you off but he lost consciousness quickly. You let him drop to the ground and moved your leg back, managing to grab the knife in your boot. You sliced through the lower bindings and eventually got the ropes off. You almost left when you saw the unconscious Red Hood on the ground. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little blackmail after all. You pulled out your phone and pushed down his hood, ripping off the mask over his eyes. You took a few pictures of the man, something familiar about him.

You grinned when you recognized him as the ward of the biggest tech company in the city. 

If you played your cards right, a week from now you’d be loaded and sipping mai tais on the beach, never having to worry about pulling a job ever again.

“Shit!” you shouted the next evening, jumping straight back into your counter. The Red Hood was standing silently at the edge of your kitchen, narrowing his eyes at you. He threw down a manila envelope on the counter and stalked over to you.

“I don’t negotiate with criminals,” he said.

“I don’t think it’d look too good if Dean Winchester were to be found out as The Red Hood. With all the crimes you’ve committed yourself. I bet that’d ruin a few of your family’s contracts,” you said. You reached up to grab his hood when he caught your wrist. “I felt I was very generous with my offer.”

“Fifty million is generous?” he scoffed. He shoved your wrist away and put his back to you, tugging his hood back. He slipped his eye mask down around his neck and glanced over his shoulder. “I should throw you in prison.”

“For stealing from rich people? They can afford it just like you can afford this. Take it out of your trust fund. I bet no one would even notice,” you said.

“What do you need that much money for?”

“What do you need it for? None of your business.”

“The answer is no.”

“Then I guess your photo of you out cold at a crime scene in your little costume will be on the news very, very shortly.”

“It’s an excessive amount,” he said.

“Your family is billionaires. You got the cash.”

“I can’t move that much without red flags.”

“Figure it out.”

“I could just make you disappear,” he said, stepping in front of you. “You couldn’t stop me.”

“You only murder the bad guys and unfortunately for you, I just steal things and knock people out. It’s not justified. Your old partner, that bat guy, even he didn’t kill people,” you said.

“He let me down, more than once. I do things the way they need to be done,” he said. “Don’t think because you’re a woman you get special treatment.”

“Wouldn’t expect it,” you said. “Give me my money and you will never hear from me again.”

“Five million.”

“No way.”

“Five million a month for the next ten months,” he said. “It won’t raise too many eyes. I can justify a cost for that.”

“Fifty. One payment,” you said, crossing your arms.

“What the hell do you need with that much money?”

“Maybe I want to donate to charity. It’s not your concern. You have three days to get my money into that bank account. If you don’t, you and your entire family’s business are going down. Have I made myself clear?”

“I will find all copies and when I do, you’re gonna have a big problem. Count on it.”

He went out your back door and you rolled your eyes, already making plans to have extra copies out there just in case.

Three Days Later

“You’re good,” said Marcus. You stared at him and he smiled. “You’re clean kid. Debt repaid with interest. Your family is safe again. Any interest in working for me again? You’ll get to keep some of the profits now.”

“I’m not meant for this line of work,” you said. “Lose my number?”

“You’re not as bad as you think. Just got a pesky conscious. Enjoy retirement,” he said. You hummed and quickly left, taking a deep breath. 

Half an hour later you were heading to the airport with five million dollars in your bank account and ready to go start over.

Two Days Later

“Nice view,” said a voice behind you. You sat up from your chair by the pool, staring up at Dean as he smiled. “Nice house. A little smaller than I was expecting for fifty million dollars in the bank. If you had fifty million that was. More like five now, hm?”

“I still have copies,” you said as he sat in the chair beside you.

“Oh, I know,” he said, stealing your drink. “Whoa, fruity and a lot of rum.”

“What do you want?”

“My plan was to hunt you down and get my money back and get you to give up the copies and get you thrown in prison. But I’ve had a change of heart.”

“Really. Just like that.”

“If you told me innocent lives were in danger, I could have been a lot nicer. Marcus is an unforgiving criminal. But even he could let a mistake go for forty five million, right?”

“I owed him ten. The thirty five was interest. I screwed up a job when I wouldn’t kill a guard. He lost the pay. I started working for him most every night to pay it off. If I didn’t, he’d deal with my family over on the other coast. He’s connected enough to have them watched. For forty five million, they are safe.”

“Sounds like you owe me five million dollars,” he said, holding out his hand. “Fork it over.”

“I can’t live there anymore. I need to be out of that city,” you said.

“You’ll come back eventually. But you owe me five million dollars,” he said. You dropped your head and sighed, resting your head in your hands. “Or you can give me every single copy of the photos and agree to never steal another thing in your life and in exchange, I will pretend you didn’t take five million for yourself.”

“Are you serious?” you said, snapping your head up. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Why would you do that?”

“Why didn’t you tell Marcus who I was? That would have cleared whatever you owed and then some,” he said. You shrugged and he smiled. “I have a sneaking suspicion you’re a good person. Don’t worry, I won’t tell the other criminals.”

You reached to your left and grabbed your phone, deleting the picture and then permanently deleting it again.

“You never had copies,” he said.

“Nope. You could have taken my phone and that would have been that.”

“Then I guess that settles that,” he said. “Nice place to retire to.”

“Yup,” you said.

“Mind if I crash here? Considering I bought this place and all.”

“Why are you staying here?”

“I did something yesterday. My old partner called me up, told me I ought to take a break for a bit. He had some valid points,” he said. “No one’s ever knocked me out before.”

“I have many skills,” you said. He chuckled and stretched out his body.

“I bet you do. So am I staying?”

“You can stay if you get me a refill,” you said, taking the glass from him and drinking the rest of the liquid. You held it out to him and he sat up.

“Alright. Don’t go running off on me again.”

“I think this time I’ll stay put.”

“Glad to hear it, sweetheart.”

“For now.”

“Oh really? Where you thinking of going?”

“Home to Gotham. Eventually,” you said. He stared at you and glanced down, nodding to himself.

“How about a nice vacation in the meantime?” he asked.

“After you. Sweetheart.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[dovesndecay]

You may have heard that Biden has opened up a Special Enrollment Period for people to apply for health insurance through the Affordable Care Act. 

(I’m not going to comment on how people are suddenly actually calling it the ACA instead of “Obamacare” now that Biden is in office. But please know that I’ve noticed.)

Back in 2015, I worked for the ACA at one of their call centers. My job was to take inbound calls from consumers seeking to apply for health insurance or seeking more information about it. 

Note: Don’t pay an agent to help you, if you can help it. The ACA call centers are free and they have provisions for accessibility. 

So I’m gonna give you the down & dirty shitty information about the ACA. 

[A Disclaimer: Some aspects of the program may have changed since I worked for the call center. If you currently work for the program, and you know of any information here that is outdated, please feel free to let me know! And if any of it is confusing, please don’t hesitate to contact their call center! I’ll put contact information at the very bottom of this post.]

It’s entirely based on your projected income for the year of your coverage and the size of your household -- that’s the number & ages of the people that you’ll be putting on your taxes at the end of the year. 

If that number changes, report it as soon as possible. If you have another kid, get married, someone dies, etc, report it. This will give you your own Special Enrollment Period, and your eligibility results will likely change. This also applies to moving homes, any change in your income, job, etc. Not all of these will open up an SEP, but you still need to report it because it is going to affect your taxes. [You’ll get a form that you need to file at the end of the year with the rest of your tax information]. 

For the record: Cancellation of your policy due to non-payment will not open a Special Enrollment Period. You have to pay the first premium BEFORE the policy starts. Call the provider and do it as soon as possible. I can’t tell you how many people I had to explain this to, and that’s why it gets its own bullet point. 

Depending on that number, you may qualify for an “premium tax credit.” 

This is essentially putting your estimated tax return towards your health insurance for the year instead of getting it back when you file your taxes. 

If you qualify for the PTC, you have the option to not use it. In this case, however much you qualify for will simply be sent to you as your usual tax refund, just like always. 

If you qualify, and you use it, your monthly payment will be lowered. You can even choose how much of it to use. But you won’t get that money back when you file your taxes. 

You may be asked to send in supporting documents for information you put in your application. If you fail to do this, your policy may be canceled and you may lose your PTC. If you make your own HC.gov account, you will be able to upload your documents into your account. If you call in to do it, you’ll have to actually mail the documents out. 

Okay, so what’s the best and worst possible outcomes of using the Premium Tax Credit? 

The Worst: If you make more than you expected when you filled out the application, you will owe money to the IRS. Yeah, you gotta pay that back. 

The Best: If you make less than you expected, you may get some money back when you file taxes. Yay? 

What if I don’t have any income? Or not enough to qualify for any help?

Most likely, your information will be automatically forwarded to your state Medicaid department to see if you qualify for that program. 

Here’s the kicker, though. 

Although all states were given the option to expand their Medicaid programs to include more people, not all of them chose to do so. There was no deadline on it, so states that haven’t yet expanded could do so at any time. 

If you live in a state that expanded their Medicaid program, great! You’ll simply follow up with Medicaid, and go from there. (I have no insight into Medicaid and their requirements for qualifications, so more information on that will have to come from a different source.) 

If you, like me, live in a state that has not expanded their Medicaid program, well...honestly, we’re just shit out of luck. Your eligibility results from Healthcare.gov will still tell you that they send your information to Medicaid, but ultimately, it’s useless. Unless you’re actively pregnant or disabled in a specific way, they’re going to deny you, and send you back to the ACA. 

The ACA’s cheapest plans are “Catastrophic Plans.” These basically only cover you if you have a horrible car accident, for example. You’ll be paying hundreds of dollars a month to have shitty insurance that won’t cover you until you’re thousands of dollars in debt to a hospital. The deductibles -- which is the amount you have to pay in to the insurance plan before they’ll start cover things -- are disgustingly high. 

I’ve seen the ACA make things easier for a lot of people. I really have. But I’ve also had to listen to people sob over the phone because they didn’t qualify for any assistance, even though they had a desperate need for the help and the coverage. 

The ACA was a bad idea but not for the reasons a lot of conservatives think. It was a bad idea because it doesn’t help everyone. 

If you can get a good plan through the ACA, great, good for you. But this is the time when you need to be advocating for Medicare For All, because there are too many of us -- so many in vulnerable positions who desperately need care and can’t get it because this program isn’t accessible for everyone. Start yelling at your representatives to push Medicare For All, because we need it. 

Contact Information for the Affordable Care Act:  healthcare.gov | 1-800-318-2596 (TTY: 1-855-889-4325)

[kj-1130]

Nothing For Me

Part 7

Main Masterlist

Part 6|Part 8

     You and MJ’s relationship continued to grow as time went on. 

     As she started her first year of high school, you worked on yourself, wanting to be good for her.

     Overtime, you learned how to process and deal with things better. You focused on yourself and your developing relationship with MJ and needless to say, things started to look up. 

     The ‘present but not really present father’ thing didn’t affect you as much as it did, but it was still there. It was one of the only things you hadn’t fully processed and to be honest, you didn’t think you ever could. 

     Your father is there, and has been aware of presence for almost a decade. And not once has he given you any type of consolation or love like a father should. You would think after Pepper was getting more involved in his life and forcing him to clean up (most of) his act, he would open his eyes and realize that a whole human being was living with him, waiting for him to realize that they were supposed to be relying on him; not an AI built in the comfort of their room. 

     But nope. Absolutely nothing changed. If anything, things got worse. 

     He was away more often, focusing on the Avengers. Or he was with Pepper, the new love of his life. 

     You tried not to linger on the situation often, knowing it would only lead to pain in your chest. So you just stuffed it in the back of your mind, hoping one day that the pain would just lessen all together. 

     About two months ago, you and MJ had decided to make things official after going on your first date. At first you talked about how fast the two of you were going, but Michelle simply said ‘we’ll be u-haul lesbians then.’ That was the end of the conversation. 

     Currently, you and your girlfriend were facetiming. You would’ve made the trek to her house but she was about to study and you both knew that you’d distract her. Plus the two of you were due for some time away from each other considering the fact that you’re at her place almost everyday. 

     “Okay, so I found this recipe the other day and I’m just now remembering it.”

     MJ looks at you confused, “Okay?” 

     You roll your eyes playfully.

     “I wanted to try it with you. After my ban from your place has been lifted.” 

     “It’s not a ban,” she chuckled.

     “Well, it sure as hell feels like one ba-”     “Mr. Stark has arrived with a guest,” M.I.A cut you off. 

     “Who is this guest?” 

     “Secretary of State, Thaddues Ross,” the AI replied, pulling up pictures of the man. 

     “Hey M, I’m gonna call you back.”

     “Yeah, yeah,” she nods, looking a little concerned. “Take all the time you need. Let me know if everything’s okay.”

     The two of you give your goodbyes and you ask M.I.A to pull up the live footage from the conference room.

     “Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an un-payable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great a=many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the word “vigilantes”, is what you first hear when you start watching. 

     Immediately your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

     “And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asks.

     “How about ‘dangerous’?” he replies. “What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

     The secretary activates a screen behind him which begins to play the previous battles the Avengers and SHIELD have fought in. 

     “New York.” 

     He clicks a button, footage of chitauri, shooting guns, and Hulk smashing plays. 

     “Washington D.C”

     A new video appears, showing the insight helicarriers firing at each other with chaos following. 

     “Sokovia.” 

     The frame changes, showcasing the terrified citizens that were on the flying piece of land. 

     “Lagos.” 

     “That’s enough,” Steve interrupts. 

     Ross nods in response and begins his speech again. 

     “For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.”

     He places a thick document on the table and slides it across to Wanda. As the team slides the book to each other Ross starts talking. 

     “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.” 

     “The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place,” the Captain begins. “I feel we’ve done that.”

     “Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?” There was a momentary pause as the two men’s eyes met. “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes… you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is middle ground.”

     At this point, you’re walking out of your room after transfering the feed to your tablet and making your way to the elevator.

     “So, these are contingencies,” Rhodey states. 

     “Three days from now,” Secretary Ross begins. “The UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords. Talk it over.” 

     Natasha speaks up, “And if we don’t come to a decision you don’t like?”

     “Then you retire.” 

     The elevator stops and you look up seeing the Secretary walk in with someone behind him. You give him a subtle disgusted look before turning your attention back to the security footage.

     As the deathtrap descends, you can feel his eyes lingering on you. 

     “Can I help you?” 

     “You’re a little young to be an intern.” 

     “You’re a little old to be looking at me like that,” you shrug, swiping away from the video on your tablet as you feel him looking over your shoulder. 

     Ross gives an awkward chuckle and furrows his eyebrows. When you reach the bottom floor, he gets ready to step out and places a hand on your shoulder. 

     You look at him like he’s lost his mind. 

     “You seem like a good kid. Be sure to make good choices.” 

     Raising an eyebrow, you refrain from saying what you want to say. You lift your hand and gently take his off of you. 

     “Don’t touch me,” 

     Once he exits, you hear the chatting start back up.

     “Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor,” Rhodes told Sam. “Which is one more than you have. 

     “So let’s say we agree to this thing,” Wilson starts. “How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

     “117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you’re just like, ‘No that’s cool. We got it.” 

     “I have an equation,” Vision announces as you get back on the elevator. 

     “Oh this will clear it up,” Sam mutters. 

     “In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.“

     “Toaster oven’s got a point there,” you mumble, stepping back on the metal deathtrap. 

     Steve asks,“Are you saying it’s our fault?”

     “I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.” 

     “Boom,” Rhodey says.                             

     You see Tony lying on the couch, quite relaxed, contradicting the tense atmosphere. 

     “Tony,” Nat starts. “You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.”

     “It’s because he’s already made up his mind,” Steve explained. 

     “Boy, you know me so well,” Stark starts, getting up and rubbing the back of his head. “Actually I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache,” he pauses to grab a mug of coffee. “That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort. Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

     Tony puts his phone in a basket and taps the screen. An image is projected of a smiling young man. 

     “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia.”

     He pauses for a second as the team soaks in the information.

     “He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.

     “There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

     “Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve rebuttals.

     “Who said we’re giving up?” 

     “We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

     “I’m sorry. Steve,” Rhodey blurted. “That-that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA.”

      “No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”   

      “That’s good,” Tony starts. “That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.  

     “Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

     “If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s a fact. That won’t be pretty.”

     Wanda finally speaks up, “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”

     “We would protect you,” Vision promised. 

     “Maybe Tony’s right,” the redhead speaks. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off--”

     “Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam interrupts. 

     “I’m just… I’m reading the terrain. We have made… some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back. 

     “Focus up,” Tony says. “I’m sorry, did I just mishear or did you agree with me?”

     “Oh, I want to take it back now.”

     “No, no, no. You can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case-closed--I win.” 

     From what you see, Steve stands to leave abruptly. 

     You then walk out of the elevator, tablet still in hand with the footage up. The captain walks past you just as you turn the corner and spot the team. 

     “Someone’s upset,” you hum. 

     You walk past everyone towards the fridge and grab a water bottle. 

     “Anyway, that was very childish. And kinda stupid.” 

     Inquisitive looks are thrown your way and you hold up the tablet awkwardly as you plop down on a chair. 

     “I was watching you. I kinda do that a lot. It’s not as creepy as it sounds.” 

     You open the bottle and take a sip. 

     “What are you doing down here kid--”

     “Ahhh,” you interrupt. “Don’t call me a kid. I haven’t been a child for years.”

     “Just answer the question,” Tony snaps. 

     “I like to stay informed. No one tells me anything and while you think that these private meetings only affect you, it doesn’t. It affects me too. You may not remember I’m your child but several people do. And that puts me in danger. So yes, I listen to your conversations to make sure it’s nothing I need to worry about.” 

     An awkward silence washes over as you gulp down more water. 

     “Anyway, I was just riding up and down the elevator waiting for you guys to finish. That Ross dude is kinda creepy by the way. But you’re really considering signing that thing?” 

     “Not you too,” your father mutters. 

      You let out a laugh and everyone looks at you strangely. 

      “Is this funny to you?” Rhodey asks. 

      “Yes,” you stop laughing abruptly. “I find it hilarious that this is the same government that was ready to drop a nuke on the city during the Battle of New York not giving a damn about a single civilian that was still in the area. I find it hilarious that this is the same government that lets thousands of children and women of color go missing and not do a thing about it. It’s funny that this is the same government that let HYDRA, Red Room, AIM; all that shit grow right under their nose. It’s funny because this government is the same one that uses taxpayer money for dumb ass projects and unnecessary military funding instead of using it to fund shit that helps the civilians they claim they care so much about. I mean how can you not find this situation amusing?”

     “Look,” Tony attempts. 

     “I’m not finished,” you challenge, looking him dead in the eyes. “This government don’t give a damn about y’all, especially not the three of us,” you say, gesturing to yourself, Sam, and Rhodey. “We’d be booted out of this country before you could even blink if they ever got the chance and you know that.

     “I don’t know why y’all are so adamant on gaining the government’s trust when they don’t give a flying fuck about you or these goddamn civilians. All they care about is power. They don’t care how many civilians come up missing or die in some tragic accident. It doesn’t matter what happens. When they see someone becoming richer or smarter or more powerful than they are, they will do anything to shut that shit down. 

     “I don’t understand how you can’t see that. And maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just me and my experience,” you pause, catching the gaze of every person in the room with hard eyes. You take a deep breath and try to calm down. “Sign it if you want to. Think about how many lives you’ll lose then.”

     You stand from your spot and walk into the open elevator, ready to get to the comfort of your bed. 

-

     It had been two days since the initial meeting and you were currently sitting on Michelle’s bed watching her read. 

     “You’re really pretty,” you muttered out of the blue.

     You saw your girlfriend’s cheeks develop a subtle red tint as she mumbled back a ‘thank you, and continued reading. You groan and gently pull the book out of her hands. 

     “Hey,” she quietly protests. 

     “Please,” you pout, holding your arms out as an invitation.

     MJ fondly rolls her eyes before lowering herself onto you. You hummed contently and squeezed her before planting a kiss on her cheek. 

     She surprised you by turning her head and giving you a lingering kiss. That one kiss soon turned into something more. 

     Michelle gently pushed you onto your back and straddled your hips. Bending down she kissed you once again, her lips gliding with yours. 

     This continued for a few minutes, taking small breaks in between to breathe. You don’t think you could ever get enough of her and hoped that she was feeling similarly.

     You kissed until your jaws hurt. The euphoric feeling still lingered as MJ rested her forehead against yours, trying to catch her breath. 

     “We should do that again sometime,” you mumbled. 

     Your girlfriend nodded in response, giving one more chaste kiss to your lips before dropping to your side. 

     “Tomorrow,” she said after glancing at the clock that read 10:47. 

     “Guess I’m spending the night then.” 

     “I have no problem with that.”

-

     The next day, you were awoken by beeping from your phone. Once you were fully aware of your surroundings you picked up the device and read the notifications that M.I.A sent through. Scanning through them, you sat up with urgency and played the video. 

     “A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Bares, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”

     Carefully removing Michelle’s arm from around your waist, you stand up and move to the corner of the room. You press the contact and hold the phone up to your ear. 

      “Nat what the fuck is going on?”

     You hear the woman sigh on the other side of the phone.     “Look, just… stay wherever you are.”

     “Yeah, okay, whatever. I want answers, Nat.”

     “(Y/n),” she says firmly. “Calm down and go back to whatever you were doing. Right now, this does not concern you and I would like it to stay that way. Do you understand me?”

     There was some silence, before you let out a forced chuckle. 

     “Okay, whatever. Bye.”

     “(Y/n) c’mo--”

     You disconnected the call and gently tossed the phone onto MJ’s desk.     “You sound stressed.” 

     Turning around to face the bed, you see Michelle sat up and leaning against the headboard. You nod slowly and crawl your way up towards her. 

     “I am.”

     You feel her hand take hold of your clenched ones and she rubs them, causing you to relax slightly. 

     “There was a um, bombing at the--the um… signing thing. And no one wants to tell me what’s going on, so,” you end the sentence, shrugging. 

     MJ’s head drops onto your shoulder and you let her cuddle close. 

     “They told me to stay where I was. So hopefully we can get something good out of that.” 

     There was no response and you thought she had fallen back asleep, but you were proven wrong when your girlfriend started getting up. 

     “C’mon,” she instructed, holding her hand out when she saw the look of confusion on your face. 

     Taking her hand, the two of you made your way to the kitchen. 

     She turned around and grabbed your shoulders. 

     “We are going to make some breakfast… or lunch whatever. And then we are going to binge watch until we can binge watch no longer. Alright?”

     You nod your head, chuckling and then got to work. 

-

     It had been days since you last heard from anyone. No updates from Natasha. M.I.A even told you there hasn’t even been a great deal of movement in the compound. Today you decided you would head back. 

     When you arrived it was quiet. As you walked down the halls you heard distant chatter and followed it. 

     Turning the corner, you were surprised at what you saw. 

     “What the hell happened?”

     The two men turned to look your way, but you were given no answers. 

     Tony had bruises on his face and he looked more tense than usual. Rhodey had some sort of tech on his legs. 

     “You fought them. You fought them all, didn’t you?” 

     Both men looked away and avoided your gaze. 

     “You didn’t even listen to what I said. This is what the government does. I tried to tell you, but you didn’t even fucking listen,” you ranted, your voice slightly raising.

     “Us breaking apart wasn’t the government. Most of this is on some guy th--”

     “Well the government allowed it to happen so I’d say it is their fault!” 

     You turned to your father with pleading eyes. 

     “Where are they, Tony?”

     “Kid, they’re criminals now, I don’t--”

     “Stop calling me that! I’m--I’m not some kid. I’m not your kid,” you let out a frustrated breath. “You--you couldn’t talk it out? Like mature adults? You just had to go assert your dominance somewhere--in what? An--an airport? Some vacant lot? You just had to fight. Do you not know how to communicate?” 

     You looked at the two men, shook your head, and brushed past them. 

     Just when things were alright.

-

     “(Y/n)?” 

     “What M.I.A?”

     You were currently laying in your bed trying to control the tears that were begging to fall from your eyes due to the amount of overwhelming shit you had been hit with. You talked with MJ for a little while and while it helped a bit, you honestly were still feeling like… well shit.

     “There’s a package for you.” 

     Furrowing your eyebrows, you head down to where the mail is usually placed, get the package with your name on it, and head back to your room. 

     Grabbing a pair of scissors, you cut the tape and open the box. Inside was a letter and a phone. 

     Hey sweetheart.

     It was Natasha’s handwriting.

     I’m sorry. I really am. We all are. I wish things wouldn’t have ended this way, but they did and we can’t really do anything about it now. 

     I listened to what you said. I listened and I tried my best to understand. I don’t think I ever wanted to sign the accords in the first place. The only reason I did so was so that we could stay together. So that I could stay with you. This team is the only family I’ve had in a long time. The fact that that stack of papers could end that scared me. 

     I just kept trying to convince myself that signing the Accords was the right thing to do; anything to keep this team together. Anything to keep everything from falling apart. 

     But the more I thought about it, I realized. You were right. Everything you said. This government doesn’t care. And if the government doesn’t care like they’re supposed to then we need to. People need the government, but they don’t have it. They do have us though. And they always will. 

     I love you. I didn’t say it enough and I don’t know when or if I’ll ever get to tell you that again. You are so precious to me and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. If you ever need anything, you can always give me a call. 

     You wiped your eyes and gently picked up the phone. You held it in your hands for a moment before setting it down. You folded the letter back up neatly and placed both items in the top drawer of your nightstand. 

     You laid back down on your bed with less tears on your face. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

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