#so not a Guns 'N Roses reference i promise

[girlboybug]

Shades of Cool

“my baby lives in shades of cool, cold heart and hands of aptitude.”

or the one where joel can’t seem to stay away from you despite his efforts to. but it’s not like he tried very hard to begin with.

what’s playing 🎧 : shades of cool by lana del rey

pairing : joel miller x female!reader

word count : 9k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, creampie, breeding kink if u squint, oral f receiving, fingering, loss of virginity, virginity kink if u squint yet again, tummy bulge, unspecified age gap and joel kind of has a thing for it, unprotected sex, (pls wear a condom guys im just a mf on tumblr) multiple orgasms, a tad of overstimulation, allusions to male masturbation, dirty talk, pet names, mating press, prone bone, light dom/sub dynamics, reader def has some unresolved daddy issues mean!joel but theres some soft joel

TRIGGER WARNINGS : minor character death/reference to his death but he literally doesn't exist in the show i promise, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of guns, implied/references to sexual harassment

a/n : this is my first time uploading to tumblr, forgive me if my layout is funky lol, anyways pls enjoy <3 read the second part here

you swallowed hard when you saw joel making his way towards the alleyway you two routinely met up in. watching as he did his typical side to side glance, casual in presence but it was muscle memory for him to ensure the safety of his environment no matter it’s location or the mundaneness of it. 

you quite disliked the feeling that pricked your chest and quickly spread inside the cavity, overflowing up into your throat and drowning out any coherent thoughts in your mind whenever you saw joel. 

it was annoying. pathetic even. just a silly schoolgirl crush you hoped would go away in time. 

you put aside the fluttering feelings for later, and waved, catching his attention. he sent a curt nod, rubbing his palms together before pushing them into his denim pockets. “hey.” he greeted you, if you could really call it that. 

you took whatever you could get from him, so you smiled, parroting it back with a nervous politeness. 

“do you have the uh…” you trailed off, feeling embarrassed that you struggled to even verbalize what you were trading. 

he raised a brow, folding his arms over his chest, looking at you expectingly. “i got it. you got the rations?” he finished speaking for you and you nodded enthusiastically, hurriedly pulling out the thick wad of rations you worked your ass off for. 

he shut his eyes with exasperation for a few seconds before hovering his larger hand over the wad, miraculously dwarfing your own hand. “don’t wave it around kid, jesus,” he sighed, shaking his head while palming it and sliding it away into his back pocket. 

“sorry…” you muttered embarrassedly. 

he didn’t reply, and instead handed you a box, bright purple and pink and your gaze slowly rose up to his face with a slightly ajar mouth. “uh. joel.” you started, voice leading into an upward trail of confusion. 

“if i wanted tampons i could have easily gotten this myself.” you wanted to hide the slight irritation in your tone but he caught on to it, unfolding his arms to jab the top of the box with his index finger. “how about you open it smartass.” he instructed dryly, moving backward and refolding his arms. 

your eyes lingered on him tryingly for a few more seconds, huffing quietly to yourself before flipping the cardboard flap up. 

again. tampons. 

you tilted it towards him and he dragged his hand down his face tiredly. he dug his hand into the box, the tampons shoved to the sides, revealing a small pistol. 

your mouth fell open into a comical O shape, laughing in awe. “oh!” you giggled and joel stared at you blankly, already feeling a hankering for a straight shot of whiskey at the bright and early hour of 8:30am. 

“very creative.” you beamed and it seemed as though joel fought back a smile behind a glare. at least, you told yourself that. 

“just enough for gullible people.” he pushed at a button of yours, just a little, and you paused for a second, shooting him a playful glare. “whatever,” you exhaled through a quiet chuckle. 

“thank you joel, i appreciate the um. tampons, i was running low.” you played along with the bit and he rolled his eyes, nodding, already ready to go back home. 

“sure thing.” he was about to turn and walk out of the alleyway but something held him in his spot. 

he took in a deep inhale before making eye contact with you, rendering you back into your nervous state from when he first arrived. 

“why do you need a pistol? we’ve only ever traded for small things. why the sudden big order?” he has absolutely no clue why he’s asking you this, or rather, he has no idea why he’s letting himself ask this. 

he shouldn’t care. he doesn’t. 

you stiffened, straightening your back and holding the box to your stomach, hands cupping the bottom of it. “just to keep at my place. thought i’d feel safer with it.” you answered truthfully, making sure to not go further into detail. 

his squinted eyes stay on you for awhile, unsure of what you needed to feel safe from. “are you uh…in any trouble?” he asks and you feel a little excitement ignite in your lower belly. 

is he worried about you?

“no! no not at all, i just…i don’t know,” you try to laugh it off but the silence between you two just feels heavy instead. “why do you ask?” you question and he shrugged. 

“if you’re in trouble, i don’t need it somehow coming back to me. i got enough shit i need to worry about.” he answered and the bubble inside you popped and deflated almost immediately. 

“oh, well no need to worry about that. it’s nothing like that, you’ll be fine.” you decided to end the conversation there, a cold feeling of humiliation that prods at your shoulders and throat alerting you that it’s best to just walk away before you can say anything else that might make the situation more unbearable. 

“thanks joel.” you added, quickly making your way out the alleyway. “be careful with that thing.” he called out after you, and you feel the bubble slowly start to shamelessly inflate itself once more. 

maybe he does care. even if it’s just a little. 

—

you hid the box in the shoddy nightstand you had lugged up into your apartment from off the street one night, and exhaled lowly, pursing your lips. “this is good.” you stated to yourself. 

the whole reason why you wanted a gun, was kind of useless if you really put some actual thought into it. 

it really was just for the comfort of your mind, putting the nerves you had at ease. like a security blanket of sorts. 

fedra soldiers occasionally conduct inspections, making a mess of people’s homes to look for any contraband, firefly propaganda, weapons, anything that so much acts as an eyesore to them is grounds for permanent confiscation. 

there’s a specific solider that just makes you uncomfortable, makes your skin prickle up into sharp goosebumps and makes your stomach churn like dry gears rubbing up against each other. 

the way his eyes follow you around, rejoicing in his power over you and how you cowered away from him. 

they come in as pairs to inspect and even if they didn’t, he was still taller, stronger, heavily armed and trained and could kill you in front of a crowd of people and still face no consequences. so a singular witness wouldn't stop him from breaking the rules.

if anything, you’ve probably just put yourself in more danger carrying a weapon. but you felt that if you had it, you maybe had a fighting chance in case push came to shove. 

you collected yourself into your very depressing excuse of a bed, lifting the fraying crotched blanket over your body, pretending you were anything less than semi uncomfortable.

the next morning, you woke up with a slightly sore feeling that resided in just about every crevice of your body but you ignore it, as it’s a common thing to wake up to if you’ve got what basically feels like laying on a napkin as a bed, and using what feels like an even thinner napkin as a blanket. 

you readied yourself to participate in street clean up, since you had to take on more shifts than usual to make up for the hefty chunk of rations you gave to joel. 

—

a bandana resided around your nose, neatly but tightly tied behind your head, doing…definitely not enough to cover the stench of cleaning the sludge off the streets. 

"the fuck would i need coffee beans for asshole? hit me up when you’ve actually got good shit to trade.” you overheard two guys a few feet away from you bickering, your ears perking up at the mention of coffee beans. 

you remembered joel vaguely mentioning how he’d kill for a cup of coffee, and you agreed on that sentiment, even though you’ve never once had coffee.  the point being, he’d been out of coffee for awhile, unable to find anyone who has it, and you figured maybe scoring him a bag would be a nice sign of gratitude for the pistol. 

you pulled down your bandana, walking over to the guy once the other one walked off. “hi, um i didn’t mean to eavesdrop but i heard you have coffee beans? i’d be willing to trade for them.” 

“i don’t take kindly to nosy—“ he cut himself off mid sentence once he turned to look at you, his eyes dragging up and down your body and you wondered in that moment if it was worth the hassle of talking to this. thing. 

but then you thought of joel, and how maybe he’d smile at you, thank you with a tight bear hug and suddenly, it did all seem worth it. 

“yeah, yeah i’d definitely be happy to trade with you,” he grinned and you laughed, trying to hide your disgust with fake excitement. “great! what would you want for it? i have some spare shampoo bars, a pair of wool socks i was saving for winter, or—“ 

he cut you off this time, leaning into your space closer and you instinctively backed away. “i was thinking maybe something different.” he alluded to something that made cleaning up literal shit off the street seem a lot more pleasant. 

your face fell and you lifted up your bandana. “yeah, nevermind. thanks anyway.” 

you turned on your heel and he groaned, calling after you. “the socks…” he huffed, rubbing the side of his chin. “are they soft?” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. 

you tugged down the bandana again, smiling brightly. “very!” 

—

you scheduled another meet up with joel, excited to gift him the bag of coffee beans. 

you were slightly sad to let go of the socks, your feet always got so cold in the winter and the nights were already starting to increase in frigidness, but it’s okay, you could always find another pair of socks again, but you didn’t know if you’d have another chance to pleasantly surprise joel like this. 

against joel’s typical judgment, he said to just stop by his apartment, feeling too tired to lug himself down into the alleyway again. 

but all you heard from that was he trusted you enough into his personal space. which, as much as joel would deny it, is true. 

he could clearly envision you apologizing to a fly for so much as being in its way, so inviting you over posed as nowhere near a threat. 

you knocked at his door, hiding the bag behind your back before he opened it. the wind got knocked out of you once more at the sight of him. he was very much older than you, easily the age of a man who could be your father, but that didn’t erase any of his attractiveness. 

in the deepest part of your subconscious, you knew that that’s what added onto it. 

“hi!” you chirped and he stepped to the side, widening his door to let you in. “hi.” he repeated, drier but, not unhappily. 

“what’d you wanna trade for again?” he asked, his hand rubbing the side of his stubbly jaw, and you had to look away, knowing you’d just watch him in silence if you didn’t. 

“actually,” you hummed, nearly bursting at the seems with glee. he watched you curiously, unaware of the slight smile on his face as he watched you tip toe closer with your hand still behind your back. 

“i didn’t come by to trade. i got you a gift!” he rested his palms behind him on the small table, his broad shoulders seeming even broader now and you wanted to run your hands across the expanse of them. 

“a gift?” he asked, breaking you out of your trance. he sounded genuinely shocked, almost unable to believe you. “mhm!” you nodded, a smile still etched on your features. 

“close your eyes, and open your hands.” you instructed, and he tilted the side of his head to you, wordlessly saying really? 

you nudged your chin, motioning for him to listen, your way of replying with yes, really.

he eyed you before shaking his head, standing up straight and closing his eyes, his palms bared out for you, muttering a quiet, i have no idea why i’m listenin’ to you. 

you plopped the bag of coffee into his hands, sing songing a soft “now open!” 

he opened his eyes, his lips parting in awe. he laughed out of disbelief, and your heart soared with joy as you saw him smile, and widely at that. 

“kid…you…why? i mean, god, thank you, but why?” he asked and you shrugged, rocking back and forth on your heel to your toes. “take it as a thanks for my pist-i mean tampons.” you joked and he chuckled, shaking his head and putting the beans down onto the table. 

“well, thank you, that’s mighty kind of you.” he looked downward at you, and you looked back up at him, trying to memorize the way his lips were curled, the sweet lines by his eyes and the way he just seemed so happy by such a small act of kindness. 

“no biggie!” you replied, and he darted his eyes away for a moment before turning back to you. “do you know how to use your gun?” he asked and you felt your face grow hot with slight embarrassment. 

“uh. i mean you just aim and pull the trigger right?” you asked honestly and he blinked a few times before shaking his head. “okay so you don’t.” and you squinted at him. “i could teach you. get you some extra bullets too.” he remedied the half joking comment with his offer and you perked up. 

“yeah? you would?” you asked excitedly and he nodded. “‘course. you just went from tolerated, to slightly more tolerated in my book. so i’m gonna help you not accidentally shoot yourself in the foot.” 

you didn’t like how you actually felt a twinge of sadness at his obvious joke about only tolerating you. he was kidding, but sometimes it was hard to tell because he had the same monotone, slightly annoyed at everything everyone has to say, kind of voice. 

and you were a sensitive person, and even the most harmless jokes could manage to sting you. 

“well jeez aren’t you sweet.” you complimented with sarcasm. joel threw on his flannel, ignoring your comment. you stepped aside while he made his way to the door. 

“you comin?” he looked at you, opening the door behind him, waiting for you to follow. you turned around to look behind you stupidly, then back to him. “what?” you asked confusedly and he fought the urge to roll his eyes and take back his offer. 

“we’re gonna start now.” he inclined his head out the door, motioning for you to come along. and who were you to decline doing anything with joel. 

—

joel was here. in your apartment. in your space, in your air. he was sitting on your bed, the place where you’d occasionally, frequently shove your fingers into places you just knew joel would be able to reach with no effort. 

he ran his fingers over the barrel of the gun, drumming against its ridges and for a moment you felt a bit envious over the literal inanimate object. 

“cmere,” he patted the space next to him, waiting for you to be seated so he could get started. 

with wobbly legs you made your way to him, smoothing over your jeans in an attempt to secretly wipe away your clammy palms. 

“show me how you hold it.” he placed it in your hands and it felt foreign to the touch. it was heavier than you expected it to be but you tried to conceal your inexperience by holding it the way you’ve seen others handle their firearms. 

you pointed it at the door, pretending that soldier was in front of you, finger on the trigger and hands at the bottom of it, supporting your grasp. 

he observed your hold, a low hmm coming from the back of his throat. “not terrible.” he adjusted your hands, your skin latching onto his heat, claiming it as yours as his body hovered around your side. 

“how’s that feel?” he asked and you cleared your throat, blinking a few times and avoiding his close stare. “it uh, it feels better.” you answered and he clicked his tongue, nodding curtly to himself. 

“alright. now, when you run out of bullets, the magazine at the bottom might drop out but if it doesn’t, you’re gonna take it out and reload, you wanna be fast if you’re in the middle of, well whatever situations got you needing to pull out a gun.” there was a slight cadence of a joke in his gun lesson 101, and it made a giddy feeling return to your tummy. 

he reached in his back pocket, pulling out what you assumed he meant by magazine. 

he explained the logistics of your newly owned weapon, trying to use terms you’d be able to follow along with, not unaware of how you were watching and listening intently, hanging on to every word he spoke. 

you were too damn obvious. 

—

you saw more of joel after that, bumping into him in places you usually didn’t see him, yet seemingly excited every time you met. 

his aloof stare slowly turned softer when it landed on you, maybe it never changed at all but to you it definitely felt different. 

he swore it was you that had been following him, an air of playfulness in his accusations of you stalking him, but really it was him. 

he unable to admit to himself that he  wandered around the areas he knew you were usually found in, wanting to scold you for having such an easy routine to follow but he kept it to himself. 

he watched you walk beside him, taking in the sights of the town, wondering how you could possibly appreciate the hellhole that surrounded you all. 

“so how’s the coffee? any good?” you asked, turning back to look at him, feeling a hushed breath pause in your throat once you saw he was already looking at you. 

a peek of a smile ghosted over his face. “it’s good. i, i appreciate that you did that. i hope you didn’t have to trade too much for it.” guilt resided in him at the thought of you having to give more than you had just for coffee beans. he felt he wasn’t worth all that effort. 

you shook your head, laughing lightly at the memory of the trade. “no no don’t worry, just a pair of socks. they were these brown wool socks that were so soft, so i’d say it was a pretty fair trade.” 

“i’ll be on the look out for a pair like that then.” he was already figuring out who he could trade with to get you another pair of socks. “no it’s okay you don’t have to it’s-“

“hey,” his voice felt rich, calling your attention back to him. your chest went tight. “yeah?” you whispered back. 

“shut up. i’m gettin’ the socks.” there was a backbone of sternness in his lighthearted promise.

you sucked on your bottom lip through a grin before you spoke again.

“i have a confession.” you exhaled, feigning dramatics and he tilted his head towards you, watching you with worried eyes. “yeah?” 

“i lied. i’ve never had coffee before.” you lowered your head with faux shame and he gasped, shaking his head with disapproval. he paused for a moment, then turned around. 

you caught up with him, holding onto his arm, feeling hot at the taut feeling of his limb, and how he didn’t push you off. he just peered down at you, keeping you there with him. “jeez i didn’t think you’d take such offense to that,” you breathed out through a chuckle. 

“inexcusable. you’re tryin it when we get home.” the twang in his accent was something so attractive, and it only had you feeling more and more willing to do whatever he wanted. you’d drink acid if he asked of it from you in that deep southern drawl. 

you two walked back to his place, shedding a layer out of many, holding onto it as you trailed in behind him. 

he glanced over at you, then your coat. “set it down somewhere, you can have a seat.” he pointed at the round table and you quietly thanked him, hanging your coat over the back of the chair before sliding it out and sitting in it. 

“i remember you have a sweet tooth. damn near talked my head off about trading for a bag of hard candies a few months ago, so i reckon you’d like it sweet.” he mostly talked to himself when he said that, fondly remembering the way you rattled on about how you were craving for caramel drops. 

“you remember that?” you were just about swooning, unable to hide it even when joel walked back over to you, two mugs in each hand of his. “how could i not? you never let me forget it.” he set the mug down in front of you, sipping at his as he leaned back into the chair in front of you. 

you picked it up, hugging the warmth of it with your palm. you took a light sip, your eye shutting, a low quiet moan leaving your lips from around the mug once the taste landed on your tongue. 

joel stirred in his seat at the sound, busying himself with drinking from his cup to avoid making any kind of facial expressions. 

“joel,” you crooned and he felt weak. “you like it?” he asked, his lips still curled over the rim of his mug. “it’s so good, i understand why you like it so much.” 

“well, i don’t make it as sweet as that, but yeah, coffees good. not a lot of people agree.” he shrugged and you set your mug down in front of you. “can i taste yours?” 

he slid it to you and you lifted it, tasting it and almost immediately wanting to spit it out. you quickly gave it back to him, sipping the sweeter coffee to cleanse your offended palette. 

“yeah, that tastes like shit, i don’t know how you drink that.” you smacked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, the burnt taste not quite leaving you just yet. 

he rolled his eyes, taking a loud obnoxious slurp. “my tastebuds are just mature.” 

“mature for what? shit? once you hit a certain age do just you grow accustomed to crappy tasting things?” you were dipping into a more casual way of speaking to joel, causing his gaze that rested on you to turn into a view of amusement. 

“rich comin’ from the kid who still eats like she’s 5.” he rested his arm against the back of his chair, and you expired, feeling a bit defensive of being called a child. 

“i’m not a kid.” you muttered and he chuckled. “alright.” he agreed in sentiments but not in actuality. 

breaking the comfortable silence that filled the room you and joel shared, a loud bang rang from against the door. joel slid from out his chair, hurriedly pacing towards the door. 

before he could even open it, you already knew it was one of fedra’s soldiers. things were starting to feel a little too lax, it was only a matter of time until they came knocking down doors again. 

your throat went dry, stomach cinching with anxiety once he stepped inside, the same soldier that had you saving up your rations week after week to be able to afford the pistol from joel. 

his eyes flickered between you and joel, scoffing to himself. “what’s this?” he asked you, ignoring joel who stood right in front of him. 

“nothing.” you answered, intimidation and fear already prickling at your skin and racing down your spine. 

joel stood in front of you, shielding you away from him, and slowly, the fear lifted itself itself away from you, but not fully. not while he’s still here. 

“aren’t there usually two of you who do these searches?” joel questioned, watching as the solider jabbed at various things of joel’s with the tip of his rifle. 

“partners out sick. so y’all get the pleasure of havin just me.” he flashed an ugly grin at you, bending to the side to see your uncomfortable face behind joel’s back. 

he walked around, haphazardly lifting and tossing things about. 

“oh?” he bent down, squatting by joel’s bed. “what’s this?” he waved around a baggy full of white powder. joel stiffened, his nostrils flaring in anger. 

“that’s not mine and you know it.” and surprisingly it actually wasn’t. 

joel had just sold the last of his pills to a sad sap unable to sleep without them, and that was a month ago. the asshole was planting drugs on him. 

“this is not only grounds for confiscation but imprisonment. tough spot you’re in miller.” joel exhaled angrily from a quiet ragged breath. 

“unless,” he came up to you, pushing past joel to cup your chin. “she wants to, convince me why i shouldn’t take you down for this contraband.” you flinched from his touch but it only made him hold on tighter. 

joel snatched his wrist away, stepping back in front of you. “you don’t have to involve her. what do you want? rations, half of my next haul? what?” he gritted and the solider just laughed. 

“you think i don’t have easy access to all that? i want something you can’t easily trade for.” he leaned to the side, waving at you. 

joel pushed him backward, triggering the response of a rifle being shoved in his face. joel didn’t so much as waver, grabbing the neck of the firearm, pointing it away from him while his foot came and rammed down onto the front of his shin, successfully knocking him down with a loud wail of pain. 

it happened so fast all you could do was sit and watch, frozen in place as joel lost himself on top of the solider, pounding and pounding and pounding his fists in relentlessly, not stopping despite the ache trickling over across his knuckles. 

you heard a sick squelch followed by cracking noises and you knew that should’ve made you fear joel. it should’ve made you run out the door and never look back. but it did the opposite. you never wanted to stay more. 

you watched with wide pupils as he rose up from the beaten and bloodied solider, breathing hard and loud, stumbling upward to a leant stance, staring at the lifeless solider on his wood floors. 

he wiped his nose with the clean, unbloodied slate of his forearm, before dropping it back to his side to lean forward and spit over the body. 

he turned back to you, scanning your face for any hurt, fear or disgust. 

but there was none. 

before you could say anything, he spoke aloud his thoughts. “i gotta get rid of the body.” 

“do you need help?” you extended a hand willing to assist and joel shook his head a hard no. “you saw enough, you don’t need to see more. i’ll be back.” 

you stood up, pressing a hand to his chest, looking at him with watery eyes. he wanted to wipe them away from you, but he couldn’t. not with the blood that was already starting to cake under his nails. 

“joel i want to help.” you admitted, soft voice trembling and joel leaned forward, his face close to yours. “you should probably go sweetheart, you don’t need to get wrapped up further in this.” his words traveled along the coast of a gentle but solid whisper. 

“i don’t want to go.” your voice barely carrying itself loud enough as a reply, eyes following joel’s actions of walking away from you to roll up the soldier in a thin fraying carpet. 

“you should.” is all he said, walking out the door with a body dragging behind him. 

—

you went against any logical thought process whatsoever and stayed. you decided you’d make yourself useful, feeling as though the events that continually replayed in your head felt like your fault. 

you sat on your knees, scrubbing at the blood that had already set in the floors. 

you scrubbed until it hurt, and you kept going despite the fact. you dunked the scrubber into the bucket of soapy water turned brown, squeezing the excess onto the floor before rubbing it in. 

the door clicked open and your head whipped towards it, heart leaping in your chest once you saw joel stumble in. 

“hi.” you breathed and he looked at you with surprise. he saw the work you busied yourself with, locking the door before making his way to you. “what’re you doin’?” he asked gently, yet again in shock at how unabashedly kind you were to him. 

“didn’t want the blood just sitting here on your floors. ‘least i could do since it’s my fault that all happened.” you sniffled, feeling guilty at what had transpired. though the guilt was there, a sense of gratitude was even larger. 

he did that, for you. 

he bent down to catch your watery gaze. “no, no that was not your fault. just got a little carried away. ‘don’t want you thinkin’ that you had anything to do with my choices, okay?” he leaned to the side, catching your eyes that were avoiding his. “okay?” he repeated, waiting for you to say it back to him. 

“okay.” you mouthed just below a whisper. he took the bucket and the scrubber, walking to the sink. you of course, trailed behind him. 

he lifted his sleeves, turning on the faucet to rinse off the dried blood on his hands. 

he picked at under his nails, scraping the blood off wherever he saw it. which was, every inch of his hands. 

his body faced back to you, his now cleaned hands picking up yours, seeing specks of blood and dirt splattered on your hands from cleaning his floor. 

he washed you clean, and all you could do was admire him. how gentle he was taking care of you. he rinsed your skin clear of blood, drying you up and letting your hands rest back to your sides. 

“i’m sorry you had to see that.” he apologized, feeling ashamed of how little he was in control of his anger in that moment. 

you shook your head, hands shakily resting on his chest. “no, i don’t want you to be sorry.” you murmured, eyes landing on his lips. you swallowed back any fears that held you back from showing your affections any longer. 

you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. with a pleasant surprise, he kissed back, no hesitation in his actions. his hold fell to your waist, squeezing, pulling you into him. 

he took in your air, and you gave it to him, happily, willing to offer it in all its abundance. your hand rose to his cheek, palm resting over his beard. his thumb rested on your chin, rubbing it softly. 

he forced himself to pull away, his hands selfishly unable to remove themselves from your waist. “sweetheart this isn’t a good idea. you’re too young, and i’m not a good man. i think i just showed you that.” he tried to warn you, hushed and gently, with honest intentions of keeping you away from something you’d regret being involved with. 

but the only thing you’d regret is never being with him. 

“i’m not, and i don’t care what you do joel, i want you, all of you, want you so bad,” you all but whimpered, trying to press yourself against him more. 

he was a greedy man at heart, pulling you back up for a harder kiss. there was a hot hunger that was electric between you two, a burning ignition that pulled you two in, tying an in separable twine amidst your bodies. but neither of you ever had any intentions of undoing it anyways. 

he held the side of your cheek, the other traveling from your lower back to your ass, squeezing it hard, using his grip to pull you in closer, grinding up against you right there. 

you were so needy for him that it rattled your bones. a wet clicking noise elicited from your mouths, tongues brushing up together messily. your chin dribbling with saliva. 

you moaned in his mouth, feeling the hand that was on your cheek move to hold you by the back of your head, his tilting to kiss you deeper. 

he untangled your lips, keeping himself not even an inch away, just to share the breath between you two. your tongue flicked over his lips, biting down on the bottom one before lurching forward for him once more. 

he groaned in your mouth, lifting his hand to come down and spank your ass. you whined, back arching and crotch brushing up against his. 

you two stumbled towards his bed, your back falling into the mattress. he crawled on top of you, ridding himself of his boots and you of yours. 

his knee rested on one side of your hip, the other coming between your thighs. your chest rose up into his, your back lifting off the sheets and hands coming up to paw at his chest. 

without any reservations, you rubbed against his knee, struggling to kiss him back. “feel good little girl?” he sounded gruff, strained voice trying it’s best to not moan at the way your wet little cunt managed to create a wet spot on his knee. 

“so good joel,” you gaped, kissing his neck desperately. 

“shouldn’t be touchin’ you like this, sweet little thing like you gettin handled by someone like me,” he breathed through a series of heavy pants, his hands wandering all along your sides, your hips, your thighs. 

“don’t want anyone else but you.” you whimpered truthfully, holding his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest, right above your heart. you let it drift to the left, shuddering when he squeezed your breast. 

he kissed your pulse, teeth baring out against it. he rested his hand on your lower belly, rubbing the skin under your tank top. “can i touch you?” he whispered, his beard tickling the space just below your ear. 

you nodded, running your hands all along his strong back. “please,” you bucked your hips upward, begging with not only your words but your body. 

he exhaled out a quiet chuckle, fingers working to undo your jeans, tugging them down until they were forgotten on the floor. 

he dipped down beneath your underwear, his cock throbbing in his boxers at how wet you were. so soaked it was pathetic. he hadn’t let his hand drift down to the sweet place between those thighs of yours til then, and yet you were as wet as if he had his tongue pressed up against you. 

actually, that’s not a bad idea.

he circled around your clit, watching as you revealed in it, his fingers being thicker than yours, making the sensation all the more intense. 

“joel,” you repeated his name, voice wavering in breathy gasps, his fingers rolling the sensitive button of yours. he slipped a finger inside you, eyes peering up and watching as your back rose just a little, hips pressuring downward and further onto his finger, taking him all in. 

“so soft,” he murmured, lowering himself to press a kiss to your hip. he rolled his hips into the mattress, trying ease the pressure building up beneath his jeans. 

he was too turned on, this young pretty girl he’s had his eye on for a year was sprawled in his bed, soft and soaked cunt all ready and pliable just for him and him alone. 

he could die a happy man. 

his lips encircled your clit, tongue drawing around it while he pressed into a familiar spongy spot within you. 

you sucked in a sharp gasp, the sweet sound turning into a high pitched whine. “please,” you sobbed, hands flying down to keep his head in place. 

he fucked you with his fingers, curling right up against the spot that was making you dizzy, his tongue and lips working perfectly on your little clit. 

tears flowed down your face and on his pillow, your hand coming up to your mouth trying to lessen the volume of your cries. 

“j-joel, please i,” unable to formulate any sentences, you just gave up, giving in to your moans. 

the way you squeezed around his fingers, sucking him with greed and need, made him wonder how that’d feel around his cock when he’d get to finally shove it in you. 

he growled at the thought, sucking hard around your clit. you whimpered, pushing down onto his tongue more. 

“s’too much, i cant, i,” your head rolled around his pillow, his scent, his touch, his tongue suffocating you in the most heavenly way possible. 

you squirmed in his hold, unable to escape his grip, unable to escape the way his tongue pressed flat and hard up on your clit. his beard brushed up against your thighs, pulling a giggly moan from you. 

“perfect little pussy,” he grunted, kissing your clit before dragging his tongue slowly, up and down languidly. 

he rested his forearm over your lower tummy, pressing hard and feeling the corner of his lips perk at the way you gasped, shuddering loudly and trembling in his mouth at the action. 

“joel, i think i’m—ooh,” you spoke tearfully, poor little throat already getting hoarse from crying out his name. 

“feels good huh baby,” that little twang in his deep voice curled off his words just right. all you could do was whimper a shaky sogood joel s’good. 

his finger pressed up against that spot inside you, his tongue on your clit being the sweetest cherry on top of the tooth rotting sundae. 

you were cumming, hiccuping his name unashamedly. your plush thighs coming around to cage him in, to which he paid no mind to, if anything it excited him, his rough hands gripping your ass and pulling you deeper into his mouth. 

the wind up deep inside you finally released, flickering flashes of burning hot lights spread across your limbs, slowly fizzling out as you went limp in his bed. 

he didn’t let up however, his tongue grown addicted to the way your perfect clit felt on the wet muscle. 

you whimpered, struggling to push him away from your cunt. it was just too good and he hadn’t had enough yet. 

“joel n-no more s’too much,” you pleaded weakly, and he took slight pity, pressing one last kiss before rising back up to you. 

he pressed his fingers to your lips, groaning quietly with approval at the way you took them in with no verbal orders needed. 

you were so good for him, his sweet little girl. 

he pulled them out, resting on your plump bottom lip before moving it out the way to kiss you. you moaned deeply into his mouth, bringing your arms around him, hands traveling up to his hair. 

his salt and peppered hair felt soft, weaved through your gentle fingers. you lightly tugged on it, feeling mischief in your veins at the ministration. he growled, biting down on your lip and laughing as you yelped. 

he held your jaw, pressing hard kisses all along your face, speaking stilly, his inflection so deep, so masculine, so old and wise, had you hypnotized, his words that were reserved for your ears only, were something you’d cradle to yourself forever. 

“told myself i wouldn’t crack, i wouldn’t have you like this, you’re too young, you don’t know what you want, but fuck,” he dragged his fingers up your folds, chuckling to himself at the way you whimpered, curling into his touch immediately. 

“now that i got you, ‘fraid i can’t let you go sweetheart. i’m a selfish man at heart.” he admitted, kissing your jaw. you just about exploded in that moment. you had no idea he felt the same for you as you did him, and it was the most powerful, enlightening feeling you’ve ever felt. 

“i’m selfish too,” you whispered back, puckering your lips to kiss him. “didn’t let anyone else touch me but you. just wanted you,” you looked up at him from under your eyelashes, unaware to how that little admission made the precum collecting at his tip leak out even more. 

his grasp on your hip tightened, squeezing it as he buried his face in your neck. “fuck baby, gonna give this old man a heart attack sayin’ things like that.” 

your shaky hands went for his belt, tugging on it with need. “want you joel, please?” you begged, lips pressed to his ear. he didn’t need to be begged any more, he undid his belt with one hand, pulling it off his waist, letting it join the pile of your discarded jeans and boots. 

before he could take himself out, your hands found themselves under his flannel, desperate and anxious to see what he’s been concealing away from you. “off, please,” and he wanted to say no, feeling not as proud in his physique as he once was about 20 years ago. 

“nothin special to see baby,” he countered and you shook your head. “it’s you. it’s special to me.” you suspired airily, already feeling your tummy get tight at the thought of him hovering above you, shirtless. 

he took in a deep breath, letting you unbutton his flannel. 

you undid each button, trying your best to not rip them clean off despite your rushing efforts. you slid it off his body, exhaling in awe at the sight in front of you. 

you sucked on your bottom lip, hands traveling across his broad shoulders, fingers tracing his collarbones, dragging around the scarred areas from past wounds, admiring the few freckles on his chest that trail up to his shoulders. 

he watched you, never having felt so admired before. “enjoyin’ yourself baby?” he teased, his thumb rubbing over your chin. 

“mhm,” you nodded, not caring how it looked to be gawking at him. 

you could feel the muscle from the layer of life and age over his stomach, your eyes then falling to the bulge of his biceps, instantly growing obsessed, squeezing at the muscles. 

“you’re so beautiful joel.” you spoke with such true sincerity and he tittered quietly, shaking his head. “thank you baby,” 

your wandering hands finally fell to his jeans, undoing the button and zipper, eager to see what else he’d been keeping away from you. 

he let you, more than ready to feel your touch in the place he craved the most. he was tired of having to fuck his calloused fist, trying hard to pretend it was your cute hand touching him. 

you pulled him out, feeling your jaw go slack at the length of it all. “jesus joel,” you swallowed hard, steadily jerking him off, feeling slightly unsure if you’re doing it right. you were telling the truth, when you said you’d never let anyone touch you, too hopelessly in love with joel to even imagine allowing anyone to see you in the way he’s got you. 

he grunted, unintentionally bucking his hips into the tunnel of your hand. he was thick, heavy in your clutch, veins running along the side of it, his tip round and fat, almost red with droplets of precum leaking out. 

“gonna show you what those little boys could never give you,” he promised, and you believed him, gazing at the way he reluctantly pulled away from your hold, knowing if he let you stroke him any longer he’d cum all over your hand. 

he circled your clit with the head of his cock, shuddering a semblance of a breathy moan at the sensation. “gonna be a bit of a stretch baby, tell me if it’s too much okay? i’ll try to go slow.” he kissed his promises of gentleness into your temple. 

he inched in, hands around either side of your head, foreheads pushed together while your mouth fell open, sucking in all the air in the room. the stretch was very unfamiliar, but not unwelcomed.

you held onto his shoulders for support, grasping onto them tightly, pretty plump trembling lips crying out moans that would replay in joel’s head on lonely nights. you felt fuller than you ever have before joel was even fully inside you. 

he was nudging up against spots in you that you had no idea could feel so good, and if he angled his hips any higher, the fat head of his cock would be kissing your cervix. 

“can barely fit myself in ya’ baby,” he groaned, head falling from your forehead to bury itself in your neck, kissing your hot skin to try to calm him down before he lost control and rammed himself inside you. 

your calves rested on his hips, whimpering while trying to lift yourself up in an attempt to get him to push himself further in. 

“more joel, please?” your pleas were accompanied by sponged kisses just below his ear. “gonna take it all for me baby?” he questioned you, inching in just that much deeper, and you shut your eyes, nails already beginning to crescent themselves in his back. “mhm, gonna take it all,” you swore, more than eager to have him fully within you, as close as could be. 

he jutted his hips in, knocking the wind out of you. you bit down on his shoulder, whining a drool filled mess with the way he started to fuck you, rough hardened hands molding softly around the curves of your waist. 

he was bathing in the way your little cunt took him in, squeezing around him so good just like he knew you would. he took his time, rocking into you in and out, holding your shaking body close to him. 

you could feel every ridge and vein in you, hooked onto the way he filled you up, stretching you beyond belief, making you bounce upward with every movement. 

his hands slid down over the smooth skin of your thighs, widening them further open before pushing them up, growing impatient, achingly hungry to be deeper in you. you struggled for air at his fast actions, eyes immediately rolling back at the way he began to fuck into you. 

“can’t help myself, m’sorry baby, pussy’s too good, shit,” a gruff sigh of relief leaving his mouth at the way you took him in. you didn’t care, you were thrilled to take whatever he gave you, and however hard he saw fit. 

“feels s’good, feel so full,” you cried, translucent tears free falling, the aggressive pistons of his hips causing your swollen clit to ache, begging to be touched. 

“feel me right here huh baby?” he rubbed over the bulge in your tummy and you squealed, wriggling away from the overwhelming stimulation. “ha,” you strung out, arching up into him. 

“yeah, you do,” he taunted breathlessly, loving how you were a wreck beneath him. “in so deep joel,” you mumbled against his shoulder and he kissed your hair, nodding knowingly. “i know babygirl but you’re takin me so well,” he praised, feeling so proud of his sweet girl taking his cock like a pro. 

“never gonna let anyone see you like this?” he pressed deep there, corners of his lips curling when you weep, squeezing at his biceps. “never gonna let anyone have you like this?” you shook your head, sobbing a string of no joel no, never, just you.

“perfect, tight fuckin’ cunt is all for me, aint sharin’ with no one,” he held you by the back of your thighs even further, stressing how serious he was, set on fucking himself into your soaked hole until there was a permanent shape of him within you. a shape no man could ever fit into. 

sobs of uncontrollable pleasure were the only thing you could feel in your veins, pumping your blood full of dopamine. his balls tightened, hitting the fullness of your ass, and he let himself grow sporadic, let himself take you. his fingers found your desperate clit, chuckling to himself when you croon tearfully, thanking him pathetically for touching you. 

“can i cum, please?” your requests only made him twitch inside you, his sweet girl was so polite. “go ahead baby, let it out,” he leaned down to kiss you, swallowing up your moans and cries. 

your body jerked under him, the tight vice of your cunt gripping onto him while he rubbed over your clit, pulling out the second wave of an orgasm from you. 

you broke apart from his lips, still just a breadth of a gasp away from them, brushing up against the ghost of a kiss as you pressed your forehead to his, sobbing his name while your body trembled from how hard you were cumming.  

“shit,” he slammed a hand against the wall above your head, shoving himself impossibly further in you, your legs shaking on either side of him. “good fuckin’ girl, squeezing me so goddamn good,” he fucked you through your orgasm, kneading over your breasts, groping at them and pinching at your pebbling nipples. 

you fell limp, letting yourself drown in the unraveling lengths of your climax. 

“gonna cum baby, where d’you want it?” he asked, feeling his lower stomach start to tighten up. “inside, wanna feel all of you,” you whined, kissing all along his shoulder and collarbones, messy and ravenous. 

his face fell to the crook of your neck, biting down on your soft flesh when he came, impaling you once, twice, ending it with one last hard thrust as he came in you, pumping you full of his cum. 

he didn't feel himself soften inside you, but with each of the passing minutes he decided he’d better pull out then or else he’d never leave. you winced from the removal, arms coming around to hold him with a clinginess.

he collapsed on top of you, and you sighed contently, the full weight of him resting on you could’ve honestly sent you into the deepest nap you’d ever have.  

you felt his cock, still hardened on your thigh. with sleepy eyes you looked up at him, lips on his stubbly jaw when you spoke. "you're still hard," you murmured. his fingers drew up and down your spine, and you shivered, arching yourself into him.

"that's okay, it'll go down soon." his throat got tight when he felt you wrap your hand around him once more. "we don't...have to ignore it." you trailed off, bitten lips pressing delicate kisses laced with ulterior motives into his tanned skin.

you wanted joel to use you as many times as he wanted to, a new compulsion flowing rampantly in your veins. now that you had finally gotten a taste of joel, you wanted to gorge yourself on him.

"you sure you can take it?" he asked through a hushed breath of arousal. you nodded, kissing at his lips with need.

he didn't need to be told twice, he repositioned you, letting you fall back onto his pillow with him hovering above you. he rolled you onto your stomach, holding you by your hip to lift you just enough for him to shove his flannel right against your cunt.

his rough palms encased your ass, groping at the thick flesh. he dipped down, spreading your ass and watching as his cum poured out of you. he groaned quietly to himself. you whimpered, turning to look over your shoulder as joel pushed his fingers inside, shoving his cum back into you. your chin dropped, face falling back into his pillow when he pumped his fingers inside you, chuckling darkly to himself at the way your ass squirmed against him.

every little swivel your hips made was met with friction from his flannel on your clit. the hem of it just so happened to be pressed right there. he slapped his cock over on your ass, exhaling loudly at the way it jiggled from his actions.

he aligned himself once more with your little hole, pushing himself in with ease due to the slick left from a mixture of his cum and yours. you whined, hands flying backward, desperate for any solace from his hands in yours. he held your wrists at the small of your back with one hand, the other supporting his weight to lean forward when he pushed himself all the way inside you. you cried out, his name falling out of your mouth like a mantra, your legs trembling beneath him.

he was in you so much deeper this way, stretching you out more than you thought he already could. his hips snapped up against your  ass, fully within you and hitting every single tingly spot inside you along the way.

you were already out of breath, your lungs and brain vacant of anything except for him, for joel. "feel you in my tummy," you hiccuped, tilting your head to look at him through teary eyes. he breathed out a lazy, cocky laugh, moving forward to kiss your forehead, unintentionally shoving his cock in even deeper, feeling a sense of pride at the way you gasped and whimpered at the deep intrusion.

"i know huh baby?" he chuckled in your ear, and you shivered, feeling your face grow warm from how flustered he made you feel. he was so dirty, any filters he once had were gone, the tight grip your cunt had on his cock made him downright ruthless.

he pressed his hands at your lower back, letting yours fall free to cling onto his sheets. he held you down that way, fucking into you with a newfound source of energy, his grey hairs falling over his forehead, sweat glistening over the ripples of muscles along his biceps and abdomen, his whole being going into pounding himself into you.

he wanted you to be so full of him that everyone would know it just by looking at you. the possessiveness he tried to suppress for so long had come out, and he wasn't sure if he could go back to hiding it again. but that wasn't on his mind, not when you were clenching around him, sobbing his name loud enough for everyone outside to hear.

his grunting fell to your ears, it was near pornographic, including the way you bounced with each and every thrust of his, just watching it made his chest get tight.

he needed you closer.

he pulled you back up from under your arms, keeping you flush against his chest while he continued fucking you. you were growing limp, body worn out from the rigor he put you through. but he held onto you, keeping you in his arms. his arm went under your tits, a sneaky hand coming up and groping at one, pinching at the nipple.

he buried his face in your neck, filling your ear with the low growl of his groans. "such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this, but i think you like it, and you know what else?," he drew in a heavy breath, "i think you like being fucked like a little ragdoll," you couldn't answer, he was right, but you could hardly focus on any words, his cock rendering you a teary eyed moaning mess.

"can't even respond when spoken to," he slowed the roll of his hips, hitting you in deep and slow, letting you hear him instead of the loud wet rhythm of your cunt being fucked into. "that's okay, i'll still take care of you," he chuckled, returning back to his rough pace.

"so good, make me feel so good joel," you managed to finally cry out in a series of strewn moans. his fingers trailed themselves down to your clit, rubbing in tight little circles. " i know baby, cum for me, show me how good i make you feel."

you wriggled around in his hold, your third orgasm of the night was thick in heft, a heavy wave of intense stimulation clearing your vision and leaving a white glittering hue instead. you felt joel everywhere, from the way he was buried in your cunt, to the way his hips were clasped over the curve of your ass, fitting into you like a puzzle piece.

the fervent circles being drawn over your clit was the thing that pushed you over, your head falling backward onto his shoulder, his turn to be serenaded by a string of your pretty moans. "good babygirl, did so good for me." he cooed in your ear, pressing a kiss behind it. "thank you," you meekly replied in a breathless voice.

you were the weakest you've ever felt, your poor spent body still being held upright as joel chased down his own orgasm. "gonna let me cum in you again baby? want more of it?" he panted in your ears. "please, want it joel, please,"

he gripped onto your hips, feeling his own stutter, before he pushed in deeply, stilling inside as he came in thick ropes. he finally softened, slowly pulling out of you. you winced again at the loss, feeling suddenly cold and empty. you collapsed on his bed, reaching out for him.

he laid beside you, pulling your leg up and over his waist, running a hand up the expanse of your thigh. your eyes fell shut tiredly, enjoying the comfortable sound of the two of you trying to catch your breaths.

a part of you was worried he was going to break the silence, afraid he'd call the whole thing a mistake, and lecture you on how he isn't the type of man who does relationships. you knew all of that, you just hoped he wouldn't say it and just let you soak in the moment.

almost nervously, his hand came to dance across your cheekbone softly, wanting to memorize the way your skin felt to his. "do you regret that?" he murmured and you opened your eyes, shocked at the question.

you leaned into his hand, curling your own over his. "no, never joel, why would you ask that?"

he sighed, scooting closer to you. "I'm not a good man, sweetheart, i'm giving you a chance to leave." he spoke above an octave of silence. you frowned, shaking your head. "i don't care about anything that you've done in the past or what you'll do in the future. i just...want to be here, with you, in any way you'll let me." you admitted, wishing you could say the one thing you've been harboring for a year, but you knew you needed to keep that to yourself just a little longer.

"if i had a bigger conscious i wouldn't let you," his hands pulled you into the hold of his arm that came over your waist. "lucky for me then that you're not the good man you claim to be." you whispered, the scent of coffee on your breath enveloping his senses, and in that moment, he had a realization.

he thought about how nice, how domestic it would be to wake up and share a cup of coffee with you every morning, before you had to face the day, at least you could share a moment of peace together.

"yeah," a trace of a smile grew over his lips. "you're right. i'm not." he rolled on top of you, cupping your cheeks in his large palms. "you're makin' an unwise choice little girl," a quiet rumble rested on your lips.

your arms came around his shoulders and you sighed a half laugh. "i know. i don't care."

[flowerxbunnie]

OK BESTIE LISTEN

i heard “roses are red, watches are gold. get on your knees and do as you’re told.” I NEED IT IN A MATT FIC PLEASEEEEEE

okok so maybe matt really reallyyyy wants to spend money on a pretty girl. you sign up on a sugar baby website for that coin, and y’all start talkingggg. he flies you out and books a hotel 👀 there’s a red dress and like a gold and diamond watch on the bed and rose petals and wine, w that on a note. and he gives you a time and place to meet him for dinner and is giving you the eyes alllll night. and yk the resttttt

Sugar Daddy

Matt x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut, sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, fluffy ending

@lustfulslxt

DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT LIKE SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you and spy from another table? I’m terrified you’re gonna get your head chopped off with an axe,” Jaycee says while lint rolling my dress.

“Girl I promise I’ll be fine. Most of the time these guys can’t even walk without a cane, let alone chase me down with an axe,” I laugh, checking myself in the mirror again. “Plus I’ll have my location on. One bad vibe and I promise I’ll let you know.”

I smile and hug my best friend, pulling away and spinning around to show her the back of the dress.

“How do I look? Think I’ll get a big payout tonight?” I say while raising an eyebrow in a jokingly seductive way.

“Honey I KNOW his wallet is gonna be screaming and crying at him after you’re done with him. Do you have to… you know…?” She does a ring shape with one hand and pokes her finger in and out.

“Fuck him?” I laugh, swatting her hands down. “It just depends. A lot of these guys just want a pretty girl to keep them company. Like some of them I literally just eat dinner with and that’s it. But if they want little something extra and I’m feeling up for it, why not?”

“What does he look like?” she questions.

I shrug before quickly trying to explain it the easiest way I can after I see the worried look on her face.

“So first of all, this sugar daddy app is referral only, so it’s definitely safe. He has to have been referred by another sugar baby, passed a background check, proven he can pay out, submitted a photo of himself to the owner of the app, all that jazz. But it’s kinda like a blind date.. on my end? Like he knows what I look like but not my name.. but I’ve never seen him… I know the first letter of his name… Anyway I don’t know why exactly it’s a thing, but it was created by former sugar babies and I think it’ll be cool to give it a shot!” I spew all this information at her as she stares at me just blinking.

“Oh…okayyy…” she trails off before adding “Please please be safe, Y/n. You know I’m just a phone call away!” She kisses my cheek and walks back to her room.

I pull out my phone and open my messages with M.

-Onyx hotel at 6pm. Reservation will be under the name Adam Smith. They’ll get you in no problem.

Adam Smith causes me to raise an eyebrow, but I order an Uber and sit around for for a while before looking in my full length mirror again, smoothing out my black dress and fluffing my hair. I spray a vanilla scented perfume onto the pulse points of my neck and grab my bag. I dig through it and make sure I still have my pepper spray and stun gun. I know I’ll be fine, the app is super well rated and trustworthy, but you never know what some of these dudes will try.

•••

The Uber pulls up to the door of a massive hotel. I’m no architect but it looks like the doorway is carved from marble. I step out of my Uber and thank my driver before making my way into the doors of the Onyx, a door greeter offering to show me to the desk.

“Hi, I have a room booked under the name Adam Smith.” I smile as the lady behind the desk types into her computer to pull up the file.

“Got it right here sweetie.” She reaches under the desk to get the room key and slides it across the counter to me. “All the way to the top floor, make a right and it’s the door at the end of the hall. Have fun with Mr. Smith,” she adds in at the end, and I swear I can see a smirk on her face.

I make my way to the elevator, now flustered, and press the button for the top floor, my heart beginning to beat a little harder as I realize I’ll be meeting M face to face in a few short moments. Before I can think too hard, the elevator doors slide open. I step out and make my way to the end of the hall, my heels clicking with each step and echoing off the walls. I pull out the room key and take a deep breath before sliding the card into the reader and watching it blink green.

“Don’t fuck this up, Y/n. You need this money.” I think to myself.

I push the door open and I’m met with the scent of champagne and sweet roses. It smells like luxury.

“Hello, M?” I ask, shutting and locking the door behind me.

I’m met with a still silence. I put my bag down by the door and survey the room. It’s massive, marble floors with intricate wallpaper donning the walls. There’s even an office area with a desk, notepads and various office supplies. I notice an open pen on the desk, but I’m honestly too scared to touch anything. It all looks fucking expensive. My phone vibrates in my hand and I see a message from M pop up on my lock screen.

-You make it in okay?

-Yes, where are you?

-Check the bed.

I make my way over to the queen size bed and gasp. I see a red satin dress laid out surrounded by rose petals. It’s gorgeous, way better than the dress I picked for myself tonight. There’s a note beside it, and when I pick it up I find a black velvet box that was strategically hidden underneath the paper. I unfold the note and read the smooth handwriting,

“Roses are red, watches are gold.

Get on your knees and do as you’re told.”

I immediately break out in a blush, smiling to myself just from seeing M’s words on the page. Guess I know what I’ll be getting myself into later. I read further down the note and I see something else scribbled out.

“I’ll be waiting, my lady in red.”

I pick up the black velvet box and open it, shocked once I’m met with a shining gold watch encrusted with diamonds around the face. I pick it up gently out of its cushioning and flip it over, an “M” carved into the gold underside of the watch. Fuck, that’s honestly hot. Marking me already? I slip it onto my wrist gently and fasten the clasp, the cold watch against my wrist giving me shivers but it fits perfectly.

I slip off my black dress and shimmy into the red one, smiling as it zips up and clings onto me like a glove. I feel like pure luxury right now, checking myself out in the mirror before I see my phone light up on the bed.

-Uber is outside. See you soon.

I swear this man is already driving me crazy. He ordered the nicest Uber I’ve ever been in and made sure I had a glass of champagne ready to be poured to sip on during the ride. We pull up to a restaurant I’ve never even heard of and my driver gets out to open my door for me. “Watch your step, sweetheart.”

I walk to the reservations counter and give them the same name I was told to give to the hotel, and I’m led to a table in the back of the restaurant. My heart is beating out of my chest at this point. This is the first blind date I’ve been on at all, let alone with a potential sugar daddy. What if he’s hideous or weird or creepy?

I’m pretty sure my eyes fell out and rolled onto the floor when I saw M. He’s a young, hot brunette with striking blue eyes that feel like they’re burning holes into my skin.

“Your waiter will be over shortly,” the hostess smiles and walks back the other way.

M stands up to pull my seat out for me, but not before grabbing my hand and placing a soft kiss onto the backside, making my heart skip a beat before I sit down and he pushes me closer to the table.

“Not what you were expecting, I’m guessing?” He questions, his eyes locked onto mine with a smug smile.

“No not at all. I mean, I’m not mad about it I just-” I take a shaky breath, trying to calm my nerves before speaking again. “Usually the men I meet are shriveled up and on their last leg. You seem so young to be doing this kind of thing.”

He laughs and nods. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“A lot? So you’ve been doing this for a while, then?” I question, grabbing the glass of water that was waiting on me and take a sip, my berry red lipstick leaving a mark on the rim.

“Not too long. Maybe six months?” He looks up in thought. “Yeah like six or seven.”

“What’s your real name, Mr. M?” I ask in a lower voice, playing up the mystery vibe.

“I’m Matthew… or just Matt. And yours, pretty lady?”

“Y/n. Pleasure to be getting to know you better, Matthew.”

•••

We drink and eat and talk for what feels like hours, getting to know the ins and outs of both of our experiences in the sugar daddy world. I learn that Matthew is an influencer who makes crazy money and doesn’t know what to spend it on. He explained to me that he’s always had a love for gift giving, and when the money started rolling in and he realized he could get any girl he wanted, it combined and spiraled into almost a fetish to spend money on beautiful women.

I surprisingly understand where he’s coming from and we talked about that for a good chunk of the night. I felt like I was kinda playing therapist in a way, helping him see the reasons for why he does these “taboo” things from a nonjudgmental perspective.

After we finish dinner and drinks he orders another Uber and walks me out, opening the door for me and placing his hand on the small of my back to guide me down to my seat. I scoot to the seat behind the driver and watch as Matt ducks down to take his seat and shuts the black car door. I click my seatbelt and look up to see him scooting closer to me and settling in the middle seat, flashing a smirk my way.

The ride back to the Onyx is filled with glasses of champagne and shared giggles while we listen to the Uber driver tell us the story of his life that we definitely didn’t ask for. Matt’s hand nonchalantly lands on my thigh at some point during a giggle fit and I swear I freeze, not out of fear but anticipation. His fingers trail to the inner part of my thigh while his thumb rests on top tracing back and forth, sending butterflies through my entire body. He just looks over at me and smiles before turning back to the driver and egging him on, asking stupid questions like, “So then what did you do once they threw your shit on the street??”

It’s all a blur, his hand wondering aimlessly up and down my thigh with no intention to venture under my dress just yet. His smooth skin catching and reflecting the lights of the city as we journey through traffic. I feel like I can’t really concentrate on the conversation and I barely speak. This man is gorgeous inside and out- it’s like I’ve known him for years. It’s weird and it’s making me so flustered, but thankfully we come to a stop outside the Onyx and I can release the breath I’ve been holding in.

Matt steps out and walks to the driver’s window, handing him an envelope and shaking his hand before stepping towards my door and holding his hand out for me. I grab onto it and I feel a weird feeling shoot across my body just from the simple feeling of his skin on mine. He doesn’t let go as we make our way though the doors and into the lobby. He shoots the lady at the front desk a wave and a smile before we turn the corner towards the elevators.

The ride to the top floor feels like it takes triple the amount time as it did when I did it alone. Matt moves to stand across from me with his back leaned against the wall, stealing glances occasionally. There’s a silence between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s filled with a tension so thick I can almost physically feel it. We exit as we reach our floor and he lets me lead the way.

“That dress fits you so perfectly, sweetheart,” he whispers as he trails behind me.

I can feel his eyes burning into my back as I chuckle and try to keep the blush from spreading across my cheeks. We reach the door to the room and I stop to dig through my purse for the key, but before I finish Matt reaches around me, his chest touching my back, and swipes his own key. His veiny hand turns the handle and pushes it open before we step inside. I sit my bag down on the desk and reach down to take off my heels before I’m interrupted by his deep voice.

“Let me take them off. Sit on the bed.”

“Oh, yes sir,” I say in a teasing voice, raising my eyebrows and walking over to the bed before settling on the edge.

He moves to stand in front of me and grabs my right ankle gently, running his hand up to my knee before placing my heel onto his belt. I watch as his fingers delicately trace the strap around my ankle and find the clasp, undoing it before slipping my heel off and tossing it to the side. He repeats the same actions on my left leg, but once this heel is removed he drops to his knees and props my leg onto his shoulder causing me to fall onto my back and gasp.

He reaches down to grab my other leg and props it onto his other shoulder. His eyes snap up to meet mine, a look of lust written all over his face. I can feel myself starting to throb, a puddle forming between my thighs as he tilts his head towards my inner thigh and brushes his stubble along the tender skin.

I usually don’t get this into the sex with the other men I meet. They’re almost all over the age of 50 with some kind of ailment and it’s just not my vibe. I need the money so I do it, and I won’t lie, I’ve ended up being shocked and enjoying it a couple of times. But Matt has barely even touched me and my body is craving him desperately.

He spreads my legs as his lips cover my thighs in wet kisses, trailing achingly close to my core as he pushes my dress up around my hips.

He looks down at my panties as if he’s an artist admiring his work, running his thumb along the fabric and feeling the arousal that had made itself visible. He meets my gaze and increases his pressure, tilting his head in awe as if he’s poking an animal in a cage. Soft whimpers start involuntarily leaving my lips, my hips rocking against him.

“Fuck, look at you already squirming for me.” He licks his lips and leans forward, flattening his tongue across the fabric causing me to moan and grip the sheets from the pressure and warmth.

He watches as I react and blinks slowly before licking a stripe from the bottom to the top, biting at the hem and letting go roughly. The elastic stings my skin but he quickly places kisses along my skin to soothe it.

“F-fuck, Matthew.” I can’t help but roll my eyes back, going insane from all the teasing.

He uses his index finger to pull my panties to the side, letting out a deep groan when his eyes meet my dripping pussy. He wastes no time before burying his head between my legs, his tongue dancing up and down my core.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he almost whines as he comes up for a breath.

He continues lapping me up and I’m a mess underneath him, cursing, arching my back off the bed, gripping at the sheets, pulling his hair. Anything to release the tension building up in my body.

He pulls back, bringing his hand down and teasing my entrance with his middle finger before easing it in. I moan out as he curls up into my g spot, which prompts him to repeat the motion repeatedly. He brings his head back down to suck on my clit, making unbreaking eye contact.

A knot is twisting in my stomach at the sight of his blue eyes staring into mine, him working relentlessly to bring me to my peak. My legs begin to tighten around his head but he doesn’t fight it. He picks his pace up and begins humming deliciously into my pussy.

“Let me see that pretty face while you’re cumming on mine.” he says breathlessly dipping back down to flick his tongue across my clit.

I prop myself up onto my elbows and stare down at him, and his eyes look like they’re almost begging for me to release.

“M-Matt I’m gonna… fuck I’m gonna cum,” I whine before feeling the tension in my stomach snap and my orgasm flush through my body. I can see the smile in his eyes as he watches me come undone, making a mess of myself while crying out his name and clenching around his finger.

“Was that good, princess?” He asks, standing up and undoing the buttons on his shirt with one hand while pushing his hair out of his face with the other.

“Best one I’ve had in a while,” I pant, trying to get my breathing back to normal.

He simply smiles and slips his button up off, tossing it beside the bed. He grabs both of my hands and pulls me into a sitting position then reaches down and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Let’s see how good those pretty little lips look around me, hm?”

I blush and reach for his belt, making eye contact as I undo it slowly and unbutton his pants. I see his jaw clenching as I take down the zipper and begin to tug at the waistband. My breath hitches as his dick springs up and brushes my face in the process. That same smug grin he keeps doing creeps onto his lips as he takes himself into his hand and pumps his cock steadily while looking down at me.

His free hand comes up to grab my jaw, his thumb parting my lips and teeth. He brushes the rough pad of his thumb across my tongue gently a few times before pushing it to the back of my throat, chuckling when I gag and pull away. He slides his head into my mouth and closes his eyes in pleasure.

I grip his base and pump with a twisting motion a few times before taking all I can of his length into my mouth. I begin to bob my head back and forth, stopping at the tip to swirl my tongue around his head every so often. His breathing gets heavier as I run my free hand up and down his abdomen, my nails leaving a trail of red marks in their wake.

He brings both hands into the lengths of my hair and twists it once around his hands before tugging my head back and thrusting himself further into the back of my throat.

“Look at you taking it so well, such a good girl for me,” he groans as he continues pumping in and out of my mouth.

He throws his head back and I can feel his dick twitching, so I pull back and hold my mouth open with my tongue out, ready to swallow his load.

“Ready to take it down your throat, hm? I have something else in mind, baby. Get on the bed.”

“Get me out of this thing first,” I beg, standing up with my back to him motioning to the zipper on my dress.

I feel his warm hands touch my hips and trail up my sides before brushing across my back and tugging the zipper down, pulling the straps off my shoulders and letting the dress hit the floor. I can feel his breath on my back as I feel the clasps of my bra coming undone slowly. I slip it off and toss my panties aside before crawling up the bed. I press my chest to the bed and arch my back as I feel the bed dipping beneath his weight. I feel his presence behind me before two hands come down to knead my ass and give it a light smack.

“It’s like you already knew how I wanted you,” he laughs and pulls my hips toward him.

“Lucky guess,” I giggle, my breath hitching soon after as I feel his hard dick sliding up and down my folds.

He slaps his tip against my entrance a couple times before pushing into me and sucking in a harsh breath.

“Such a tight little pussy,” he says as he bottoms out and holds for a few seconds.

I’m aching for movement so I wiggle my hips back and forth, feeling the fullness and how he feels against my walls. He grips onto my hips and squeezes, pulling out halfway before pushing all the way back in harshly.

He picks up his pace and the room is filled with moans and the sound of our skin slapping together. I can’t help but throw myself back into him, desperate to somehow have him deeper than what’s possible- it feels primal and animalistic. His sweat drips onto my back as he pants and keeps a steady rhythm, and the noises coming out of me are something I’ve never heard myself do before.

His thrusts get slower and slower, more unpredictable, before he pulls out and flips me onto my back, legs wide open for him.

“Touch yourself, baby. Let me watch.” he demands as he stays on his knees between my legs jerking himself.

I bring my hand down to my clit and rub small circles, watching as his eyes rake up and down my body. I bring my free hand up to my breast and pinch my nipple between my fingers, rolling and tugging gently.

His mouth hangs open and I watch the muscles in his arm contract as his grip tightens. I bring my finger up from my pussy to my mouth, tasting myself on my fingers and getting them wet before returning to my core, rubbing back and forth on my clit faster than before knowing I’m about to spill over the edge. I bite my lip to stifle my cries as my high crashes through my body, my head rushing and body tingling.

This must have been enough for Matt to break, and he watches intently as he spills his warm load onto my pussy, drips falling down onto the sheets underneath.

He falls down to lay beside me on the bed, both of us dizzy and dazed. I watch his chest rising and falling rhythmically as he catches his breath, not laying for too long before he gets up and quickly walks to the bathroom, returning with a washcloth.

“Can I?” He asks, sitting between my legs and holding the rag out, a much more innocent look on his face than the last time he was in this position.

I giggle and nod, appreciating him wanting to help me clean up. This is such a different experience than any other one I’ve had in this line of work. It felt so much deeper and personal. I can’t let my mind play tricks on me, though. He’ll have another girl in this room before another week passes. I’m just another sugar baby he can get off to and forget about. I keep the smile on my face despite the way I’m feeling, knowing I need the money and I can’t screw this up by bringing up any sort of emotion.

He tosses the wash cloth into the bathroom trash before picking his shirt up from beside the bed and walking over to me.

“Uh, you can wear this.. if you want?” He says seeming unsure of himself.

“Oh, my original dress is in the drawer over there, that’ll probably look more normal than a big button up when I go back through the lobby,” I giggle and sit up, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed.

“I meant like.. if you wanted to stay a while? I don’t have anything comfier but I figured it’s better than a dress,” he trails off, shifting on his feet as he looks around the room.

Stay? I’ve never had any of these men clean me up before, let alone offer for me to stay.

“Y-yeah, sure. I mean, that sounds great! You don’t have anything else going on tonight?” I question, trying to gauge his reaction.

“No, nothing going on. I just..” he picks at the skin on his fingers before claiming a spot beside me on the bed and staring intently into my eyes.

“Did you feel it too? I’ve never felt that way with any of these hookups before. I feel like you get me. Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I’m being a fucking idiot and reading too much into it. Let me get your check,” he says shaking his head and abruptly standing up.

I grab his hand and hop to my feet beside him, trying not to smile like a fool.

“No, no.. forget the check, Matt. I felt it too.”

He exhales a deep breath before gripping my face with both of his hands. “I want to get to know you properly, Y/n. I don’t want you to feel like I’m just using you.”

I press a kiss onto his lips and pull away smiling.

“Give me the damn shirt.”

[twopoppies]

Artists don't headline Glastonbury for the fee. The organiser Emily Eavis has gone on record to say they have never paid more than £500k even to Elton and Guns n Roses. Harry is not going to go into negotiations demanding £1m or something because he'd never get it. The prestige of headlining the world's most iconic festival is enough.

https://www.mirror.co.uk/3am/celebrity-news/how-much-glastonbury-headliners-paid-33104817

Yeah, I have no idea about how festivals are run, or about Glastonbury specifically. Thanks for the info and the link. This makes a ton of sense, and honestly, this makes that whole receipt seem super fake.

Dua Lipa received around £200,000 for her headline slot - but she is expected to plough a large percentage of that fee back into her performance and “elaborate” set to make the show as spectacular as possible. Sometimes artists perform at Glastonbury and make a LOSS once they factor in their touring, crew and set costs. Dua is said to have thrown “everything” at the set and production…suggesting an eye-watering amount of money. She recently promised a night of "non-stop, relentless fun" on the night.

Festival co-organiser Emily Eavis, youngest daughter of the festival's founder Michael Eavis, confirmed that artists get paid 10 percent less than what they are typically paid by other festivals. That is because Glastonbury prefers to donate £2million to charities every year, which dispels the myth that some headliners are paid £1million - the number is likely much lower. In a 2017 interview with BBC Radio 6, she explained: "We're not in a situation where we're able to just give people enormous amounts of money. So we're really grateful for the bands that we get because they're basically doing it for the love of it."

Founder Michael once revealed that Coldplay and Paul McCartney were both paid around £200,000 for past headline sets. He said at the time: "Although it sounds a lot, they could have charged me far more." The exact number each 2024 headliner receives will be kept under wraps, but in an interview with Metro, a music consultant specialising in live music venues and festivals, Lyle Bignon, said of 2023’s headliners: "The likes of Elton John and Guns N' Roses, who have decades of global fame behind them, can likely command higher prices running into the £250,000+ range." But there is a limit, no matter how huge the star is. In an interview with Somerset Live, Bestival organiser Rob Da Bank revealed that Glastonbury's budget is under £500,000 per headliner. He said: "They cap their budget and even the headliners don't get paid more than 500 grand, I think, which is cheap for some of the headliners and they've had a lot of them."

in reference to this

full article here

[blackcatruse]

Synopsis In the aftermath of the Tokyo Civil War Era, three gangs rose to the top: Kanto Manji, Rokuhara Tandai, and Brahman. These powerhouses have been locked in a stalemate, which only serves as temporary peace. In order to truly control Tokyo, one gang has to obtain all the money, power, and status. You’re a runner for a gang affiliated with Brahman, trying to claw your way out of debt that was never yours. The deals you make turn a significant profit, but your string of luck is starting to fray. When a deal goes south, you have no choice but to work with the infamous Haitani brothers. In exchange, you were promised freedom, but as you work the jobs with them, you begin to realize that the shadows hold something larger at play.

This story features content that may be upsetting to some. Reader discretion is advised. Due to the sensitive nature of the content, minors do NOT interact. Doing so will result in a block. If your age isn't easily found or your blog is blank you will also be blocked. If any of the following do not appeal to you, kindly move along. General Content Warning(s): swearing, physical violence, references to gang activities (drugs, guns, death, etc.), trafficking (human, drug, weapon, etc.), discussions & depictions of suicide, some misogyny, discussions & depictions of abuse (physical, verbal, sexual), discussion of grooming & C/SA (not explicit)

Story Element(s): no timeleaping AU, reader is fem!presenting, use of a nickname (no y/n), 2nd person POV, switching POV, 3rd person POV, loosely follows Three Deities & Bonten timelines, an abundance of OCs & made up gang, slow burn, headcanons for canon characters

chapter i // chapter ii // chapter iii // chapter iv // chapter v // chapter vi // chapter vii // chapter viii // chapter ix //chapter x // chapter xi // chapter xii // chapter xiii // chapter xiv // chapter xv // chapter xvi // chapter xvii // chapter xviii // chapter xix // chapter xx // chapter xxi // chapter xxii // chapter xxiii // more to come...

Check out the series on Ao3!

Last Updated: 7.10.24

a/n: hi! thanks for clicking on this little story of mine. i'm not looking for any sort of critique because this is just fun self indulgence. the story has more will be updated on ao3 first, then i'll try to remember to post to tumblr lol

Please do not reupload, translate, or steal my work! If it isn't here or on my ao3, it's not me!

Dividers courtesy of @/firefly-graphics & @/cafekitsune

[tinkabelle24]

To Build a Home

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back (PART 1)

A/N: This chapter references Dirty Little Secret - my Leo-centred, IT-themed side story. You don't have to read that story to understand this chapter, but it provides a smidge more context. 😊

TW! Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence.

Masterlist / Chapter 21

---

(9 months later...)

"Alright, Blue Guy... any last words, before I stick ye with this stick?"

Leo lowered his training katana, sending the brunette, dramatically flourishing her Bō in his direction, a deadpanned look.

If she suddenly yelled "squirrel!", he wouldn't bat an eye.

"Are you done-"

"I'd just get on with it," Raph - standing offside, snout buried in his shell-cell - muttered distractedly. He's been on that thing all morning. "She's in a mood."

Leo couldn't have rolled his eyes any harder. No, really??

In anticipation of something, he found, was when these 'episodes' (for lack of a better term) typically sprung up. Despite often delaying certain processes (training, for instance), her endearing quips and impersonations made it impossible to stay mad.

"You'll be there all day, otherwise, tryna reason with her-"

"YAWN-"

"Hey!" Momentarily lowering his phone, Raph jabbed a thick, calloused finger at Val; a vain attempt at asserting a sliver of authority over his amused girlfriend. "You co-operate, or we aren't goin' anywhere this weekend."

The brunette playfully narrowed her eyes at him. "You wouldn't-"

"I would - behave."

The woman abruptly yelped, instinctively parrying Leo's downward swing, mere inches from her face.

She snickered. "Behive-"

That's it.

Finally snapping her head from the offending weapon, to gawk his way, the leader levelled her with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Now that I have your attention..."

She only managed half a scoff before he lunged again, attacking strongly and swiftly, without pause.

He refused to go easy on her; he had more faith in her skills than that.

He also (super-duper low-key) enjoyed watching the sore loser pout when he inevitably knocked her on her ass, then proceed challenging him, again and again, until pity finally won out, and he'd let her win.

Bzz, bzzz!

Feeling the familiar vibration against his palm, Raph's gaze promptly shifted from the sparring pair, back to his mobile screen.

[Everything organised? 😁]

Mol had finally replied to his text.

He couldn't blame her for her tardiness; it was sparrow fart, after all.

[Yh. Case and April are sweeping the joint this morning. All that's left is to wait for Val to knock off work. U still good with Maggie?]

[Yep! 2 scoops per feed. That right?]

[U got it 👍 Don't forget the plants!]

[Never 😅 Nervous?]

Raph's responding chuckle was squashed by the ever-growing lump in his oesophagus.

Nervous: understatement of the fuckin' century...

[Trying not to think about it too much 😅 Thx so much for the help]

[Welcome! She's gonna love it, promise!]

[Hope so]

[Go get her tiger 😉]

After a brief struggle, Leo finally had Val where he wanted: trapped between his 'sword' and the mat's edge. One step backward and she'd forfeit.

For several intense moments, they held their position; limbs straining against the combined pressure as they stared each other down.

Even through her sweat, the tantalising scent of coconut, pear and bergamot on her skin engulfed his senses...

Suddenly, his eyes were on her lips; drinking in every curve, every divot. They ushered his thoughts to the night he swore he'd tasted them and, oh, so much more...

But, like everything else he swore he'd heard, seen, or felt that night, it was, unfortunately, all in my... my...

Several peculiarly coloured spots drew Leo's attention to his lower periphery; specifically, Val's now bare shoulder. Her oversized Guns N Roses shirt had shifted in the struggle, revealing half a dozen old and new-looking bites and bruises, marring her porcelain skin...

Val felt Leo's strength unexpectedly falter as his face and shoulders slacked. Her body reacted before her mind could register the marked emotional shift, thrusting her Bō down his blade, breaking his stance.

She struck the length of her weapon against his plastron as he staggered forward, effortlessly spinning it over his head then striking again, along his popliteal fossa; forcing him to his knees - outside the mat.

Raph's mouth fell open.

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed, promptly wedging the phone under his arm to deliver a series of giddied claps, hoots and whistles. "That's my girl!"

Leo, finally snapping out of his stupor, uttered a soft chuckle; shaking his head as he swivelled on his kneepads, addressing the still stunned Val.

Clearly, she hadn't anticipated pulling that off - neither did he.

He wasn't sure whether to feel proud for her finally getting one over him, or embarrassed, for foolishly opening himself up to distraction...

"Well done..." he praised breathlessly, politely refusing the brunette's hand as he hauled himself to his feet.

His gaze found the bruises again, and a fire promptly erupted in his chest; the same sensation he experienced the first time she'd unintentionally revealed them, months ago.

Prior to said moment, he'd long resigned himself to loving her from afar; trusting that his brother - who'd given him no reason to feel otherwise, where Val was concerned - would treat her like the queen he knew she was.

Despite Donnie's assurances that this behaviour was 'normal' (expected, even, given their biology), and Val's insistence that she was fine; no matter how hard he tried, that retched voice in his head, screaming: "Something's not right!", simply could not be told.

Finally realising what he was staring at, Val immediately readjusted her shirt and averted her gaze; cheeks flushing brilliantly.

Leo cocked his head, levelling her a questioning look. She sent him a reassuring one back; then a piqued one, when the leader's eyes abruptly flickered her boyfriend's way.

Raph, who'd been (very audibly) revelling in his oh-so-perfect brother's unceremonious defeat, fell silent upon catching the disdain he slung; and the incredulous look his girlfriend shot the blue-banded terrapin, in response.

Here we go, a-fuckin'-gain...

"Can I leave now?" Val enquired curtly, struggling to keep the scowl from her face. She couldn't believe the bullshit Leo was still insinuating, despite everything...

The smartest thing would've been to talk it out; really talk it out, there and then, like well-adjusted adults... But no.

Val wasn't about that right now. "I've gotta shower, still."

Outnumbered, and convinced she wouldn't tell him squat anyway, with her boyfriend hanging around, Leo begrudgingly relented; white knuckling the hilt of his sword as he stiffly and silently bowed to her.

The brunette responded in kind, before swiftly turning on her sneakered heel; practically tossing the practice weapon onto its designated display table, en route to an incensed-looking Raph.

If looks could kill...

Leo's stomach dropped when Val unexpectedly raised a hand to his brother's plastron; suggestively gliding her fingers over his uppermost plates, then his shoulder, as she passed.

A sneer pulled at the red-banded terrapin's lips as he slowly pried away his gaze, finally following the woman out of the Dojo.

He was about to add more marks to her collection, and Leo fucking resented it.

---

"Donnie, help-a-meee!"

"My apologies, Chief. One moment..." Donnie nudged the microphone from his lips as he looked up from his notes atop the table, levelling his youngest brother - pointing to his game's pause screen, like a lost child - an austere look. "What is it?" He sighed.

"How do you kill the fff-"

The purple-banded terrapin grimaced, smothering the microphone in anticipation of an f-bomb.

"-stupid Plague Maiden?!"

He snorted, glimpsing the spectre in question's vivid green silhouette, looming over Mikey's character, behind the menu. "Have you been using Yrden?"

Mikey blinked. "Have I been using what??"

"That's a no, then." Donnie rolled his eyes. Amateur.

"Oh! You mean the purple thing - this thing?"

"Yes, that 'thing' - use it."

"But it's useless-!"

"Hey, you wanted my help - I helped. Now, if you'll excuse-"

The youngest brothers flinched (jolting Klunk II, Mikey's ginger kitten, out of the terrapin's lap; clawing him in the process) at the grating sound of scraping metal. Snapping toward its origin, they found Val and Raph barrelling out of the Dojo; the latter stomping ahead of the former as she slowed, gripping her head in panic.

"The fuckin' nerve-!"

"Raph, wait-!" she darted in his way, desperately pushing at his plastron in an effort to halt him.

Mikey lowered the controller, glancing over his shoulder to meet Donnie's equally concerned gaze. He subtly nodded toward the Dojo, to which his purple-banded brother shrugged helplessly, shaking his head.

They weren't blind, nor stupid. They were painfully aware of their eldest siblings' increasingly vitriolic relationship; despite their efforts at hiding it. There was only so much passive aggression one could reasonably ignore...

Turning back to the couple: Raph had finally stopped, but was still ranting at his girlfriend - context unknown. Much of the exchange was spoken too low, or too quickly, to comprehend.

Suddenly, he raised his voice. Startled, Val jerked back as he bitterly snapped: "He's tryna get in your fuckin' pants!"; rendering everyone, including himself, speechless.

After a brief yet intense silence (in which Raph lowered his gaze, with a flustered groan; clearly regretting his outburst), Val exclaimed tremulously:

"W-what...?!"

"Val, I-I..." The red-banded terrapin stammered, shaking his head fervently. Today, of all days... "I'm so sor- no!"

He snatched her arm when she attempted storming past him for the Dojo, tugging her back.

Donnie and Mikey were halfway out of their seats, by that point. Not that they believed their brother would cause Val harm, just that he was preventing her from going where she wanted.

"Raph, let me-!"

"No - not like this." As much as he'd love for her to go nuclear on Leo's meddlesome ass, he knew: she'd hate herself for it, afterward.

Leaning forward, Raph whispered something into Val's ear; motioning to their wary audience with his eyes. They watched the brunette's expression gradually soften before she finally responded, with a stiff nod.

Body visibly relaxing, Raph slid his hand down to hers; squeezing it gently, then proceeded leading her toward the bathroom.

As the couple disappeared down the hall, a dejected-looking Leo trudged out of the Dojo. The youngest brothers averted their gazes, the moment he turned their way. He scoffed at their blatantly obvious attempts to appear occupied; like they weren't judging him for the shit Raph just accused him of...

"Well, whaddaya know," Mikey mused; voice strained as he fought to keep his attention on the game in front of him. "Yrden actually does work - thanks, Don."

"Yeah, that's good, Mikey- hey, Chief. Sorry, for the interruption. Pardon? Oh, yeah, everything's fine..." Cue reproving side-glance, which Leo caught. "Yeah, we'll get onto that first thing tonight-"

Already up to here with this situation, the leader promptly shut himself back inside the Dojo, for some much needed R&R (i.e., running his Kata into the fucking ground).

---

Val found Leo in the kitchen, alone, slumped against the countertop with an unopened bottle of water; staring at nothing in particular. He was in such deep thought, it took her stepping directly into his line of sight, for him to finally register her presence.

The moment those amber orbs found hers, her stomach knotted, thrusting bile into her throat. She swallowed hard, steeling herself.

No going back, now...

"H-hey," he cleared his throat gently as he straightened up, mustering a wistful smile.

Exhaling slowly and silently, through her nose, as he'd taught her, Val finally relaxed her shoulders; returning the smile. "Hey."

"You- your..." Leo tentatively gestured to her standard-issue EMT uniform. Following his gaze, the brunette abruptly realised: despite working this job nearly two months, this was the first time he'd seen her like this.

She and Raph rarely sleep overnight at the Lair nowadays; something about not wanting to disturb the family with their 'nightly routine'...

"Oh, yeah," Val awkwardly gripped her utility belt; complete with keys, radio, pager, narcotics pouch, penlight, and...

"Handcuffs?" Leo quirked an inquisitive brow ridge at her.

"Yep. I can arrest you, now, heh..."

Foot, meet mouth.

A snort escaped the leader as he shook his head, licking his parched lips. He finally took a swig of his water.

"Can we talk?" Val asked carefully.

Leo's jaw tensed, the weak plastic crinkling under his tightening grip. "Of course," he murmured.

Setting the now deformed bottle on the table, he proceeded pulling out a chair for her to sit; purposefully avoiding the one she'd occupied that night. Once she was comfortable, he then lowered himself onto the one across the table.

Looking up from her lap (where her fingers anxiously twiddled), Val's gaze fell upon the beautiful ficus bonsai Leo gifted her, the night before; off-centre, on the table. Despite repotting it (in an equally beautiful teal ceramic dish), she recognised its unique trunk immediately - it was from his collection.

He must've noticed her gaze favouring it, over the others, whenever she found herself wandering about Splinter's zen room (which she now had free use of). How could she not: it looked like a butt.

"Leo, c-can you..." She finally tore her eyes from the tree, directing them at the equally nervous terrapin before her. "I-I need you to be completely honest with me, right now... please."

She'd heard it from Raph; now, she needed to hear it from the horse's mouth.

"...Do you like me? Like, like like me...?"

Leo hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath, till his starved lungs began screaming, and stars dotted his vision.

He'd anticipated this question. In fact, he'd spent months dreaming about and rehearsing this entrancingly eloquent profession of love he'd (likely never, ever) provide her, in response. He felt prepared...

In the end, all he could manage was a pathetic: "Y-yeah..."

Val scoffed softly as she slumped into her chair; compressing her lips tightly, in an effort to delay the tears now brimming her eyes, from falling.

Just like that, her view of who she considered one of her closest friends was forever changed. She was now overthinking every seemingly innocent glance, nudge, hug, touch... terrified she may have contributed to this, in some way.

She felt dirty.

A panicked Leo shot forward, catching himself as he instinctively reached for her hands. This prompted Val to lean away, wedge them between her knees, then shift her boots under her chair.

He was losing her.

"I'm so sorry, Val. I never expected- I don't know what... I-I wish-"

"It's okay..." she murmured, unable to look him in the eye. "You don't choose who you... Y-you do know though that nothing's ever gonna happen between us-"

"I know-"

"Like, ever."

"I know. I'd never expect that. It's just something I'm... working through."

Leo wasn't sure exactly when he began feeling this way; it kind of just crept up on him...

From the very beginning, he knew: there was something special about this woman. There had to be; not many people stuck around once they'd laid eyes on him, or his brothers.

When he finally let his guard down, she welcomed him with open arms - she's forgiving.

He learnt about her past, and the obstacles she'd faced - she's strong and resilient. When he confessed to doing a background check on her, she wasted no time in admonishing him - she's assertive. When he swore her to secrecy, she let her closest friendship suffer, to keep him and his family safe - she's loyal. When she jumped between him and a rage-filled Raph - she's brave. When she scraped his family together to wait out his sentencing hearing - she's supportive.

He'll never forget the moment she snatched him up in her arms, for the first time. Only father knew how desperately he needed it. It was like the sun had finally risen after a long, cold night.

His world suddenly revolved around her. Her happiness, her pleasure, her safety-

Wait. He did know when - it was right before realising she was in love with his brother.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What would that have accomplished, Val?" Leo enquired gently, struggling not to overanalyse her question. No, you were never an option.

"It's not like anything would've come of it... I also didn't wanna risk making things awkward-"

"Well, you have made things awkward," Val bit out, eyes narrowed.

Leo promptly lowered his gaze. "I know-"

"Like, seriously, Leo... what the hell's with these looks you keep hurling at Raph? You say you're working through things, but it doesn't feel like it. I feel you're blatantly disregarding my word on this."

"...I-I don't mean to-"

"I've told you I don't know how many times, now: I'm fine, stop worrying... But no! You know better, apparently-"

"Hey, hang on-" Leo cut in, offended by the dismissive and sanctimonious portrait she was attempting to paint of him. "Can you please try looking at this from my perspective, for a minute?"

Val pursed her lips, then nodded stiffly; offering him the floor.

After a long, unsteady breath, the leader continued. "Let's say you had a friend - uh, M-Molly, for instance - who started showing up with... marks-"

Val shifted uncomfortably in her chair, chewing the inside of her mouth. He could tell she wanted to object, but remained silent. He continued.

"They insist they're fine, yet more appear. You want to take them at their word, but you can't help this feeling that they really aren't..."

"Do you trust me?" The brunette asked quietly, searching his face.

"...O-of course, I do."

Why was that so difficult to say??

"Then why can't you trust me with this-"

"Because I love-" He felt his throat clench as his heart raced; hot tears pricking his eyes. "-and I c-can't stand seeing those things-"

"Alright!" Val abruptly thrust her palms against the table's edge, shoving out her chair, then extending to her full height. He watched, in stunned silence, as she hissed out her diatribe:

"I really shouldn't need to tell you this, as it's none of your goddamn business; but, apparently, I do - I like it. There, I said it! I'm a kinky bitch, alright?! I ask for it - NOT him! I am NOT some damsel in distress; I do NOT need you white knighting the situation! I said I was fine, and I f-fucking...!"

Leo swore he watched her heart break as the next words left her tear-stained lips: "B-back OFF...! P-please..."

A heavy silence befell the pair as they continued staring at each other, steadily realising the true weight of the words just exchanged. No going back, now, indeed.

"Hey, guys-?"

They flinched at Mikey's voice. As Leo clumsily scrambled to his feet - tipping over his chair, in the process - Val's hands darted to her face; swiping away the tears, with a stifled sniffle, before finally acknowledging the concerned terrapin, suddenly standing alongside.

Peering over them, Leo deflated further at the sight of Donnie and Raph, trickling in from the lab and staircase, respectively.

Mikey narrowed his baby blues at the leader, who avoided his gaze. "Is there a problem-"

"N-nope," forcing a reassuring smile, Val proceeded lifting her purse from the back of her chair (her usual dumping spot); flashing Leo a doleful look as she shouldered it. "We're fine. Everything's fine. I-I was just, um... I was just heading out..."

"I-I like your uniform..." Donnie gingerly complimented as the brunette pulled Mikey into a one-armed hug. Raph hung back in the common area, arms stiffly folded, shooting daggers at his eldest brother.

"Thanks, Don-"

Mikey barely squeezed her back, like she were a porcelain doll. "Are you sure-?"

"Yeah- yeah..." Val gently shook the orange-banded terrapin's shoulders, milking the smile, before turning to Donnie; who attempted offering:

"We could walk you to the street-?"

"No, it's okay..." She glanced Leo's way once more, barely making eye contact this time as she gestured to the bonsai. "L-look after it for me, till we get back?"

He needn't see her face to know she was about to cry.

Your fault. "V-Val-"

She'd already turned away; sharing a last, knowing look with her boyfriend as she beelined for the exit.

---

Finally alone, trudging through the damp, dark sewer tunnels, with only her phone's torch illuminating the path, Val broke.

Suddenly, she felt a thousand pounds; every measly step was like dragging a dead body. Her heart ached, lungs burned, thoughts screamed:

Wha... what the fuck did you do?!

How the fuck could you let this happen?!

He was supposed to be your f-fr... frie...

I hate you!

I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU-

A familiar chime snapped Val out of her spiral.

Shakily reaching into her purse to pull out her first phone, the brunette's heart plummeted at her sister's text:

---

Masterlist / Chapter 23

@android-cap-007 @happymoonangel @miss-andromeda @raphaelismybae @jasminarts01

[biggestsimponhere]

Hello!! Congrats on 500!!! I’d like to request to be shipped within the Pedroverse pls!

My name is Laura, I’m gender-fluid and am okay with being referred to as any gender! I’m about 5’3-5’5 ft in height, I have pale/fair skin, dark brown eyes, light brown hair, and wear glasses. I am plus sized/chubby as well! My clothing style ranges from very baggy and over sized clothing from sweaters to giant t-shirts (when masc presenting) as well as dresses, skirts, and makeup! (When fem presenting)

My zodiac sign is cancer and regarding my personality I’m a very shy and quiet person, but once I get to know someone and care for them I become more open and am just a really talkative and bubbly person! Tbh I do have temperament issues and a resting b face 😭 but I’m sweet I promise!!

my favorite food is sushi!! My favorite artist rn is KISS but I do love Guns ‘n Roses, Metallica, and Selena! My favorite flower is the sunflower!!

Thank you so much and I hope your account grows magnificently‼️‼️🫶💗

AHH LAURA, Thank you so much.

Laura i ship you with Javier peña

The relationship between Cancer and Scorpio is a perfect match as both are highly compatible in almost all aspects, including emotional and physical inclination.

I think you and javier’s personalities would compliment each other quite well.

He’s never been shy about telling you he loves you.

He’ll make sure you know you’re loved always, no matter what gender you are/present as.

He’ll gift you bouquets of sunflowers when you’re upset or just simply because he wants to. 

He would listen to whatever music you want to.

He definitely has told you more than once that he doesn’t care what you look like and that he loves you for you.

While he doesn’t present as the settling down type (with his sexcapades 😭) He would settle down for the right person and i think that’s you.

[simplyundeniable98]

SWEET CHILD O’ MINE

Synopsis ~ An unexpected surprise causes your and Eddies life to take a complete 180.

Warnings: young pregnancy, throwing up, use of “mama, mommy, daddy”, pure domestic fluff, slight sexual reference, no use of “y/n”, mention of abortion (doesn’t actually happen, just referenced as an option), breastfeeding

Word count: 2.8K

~ Inspired by the song “Sweet child o’ mine” by Guns n’ Roses (i know this song came out in July of 1987, and I didn’t clarify a set date of this happening so we are just gonna say this song was already released)

It hadn’t happened on purpose. Actually, it was about the last thing either of them expected.

“Hey, babe how has-” he stopped himself when he finally caught a good glimpse of your face, which was twisted up in a permanent grimace from feeling so awful all of a sudden.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” he looks over at you reaching to cup your face, which you immediately lean into.

“Don’t feel good” you huff, closing your eyes and leaning back against the worn leather. “Think it’s nerves”

He frowns “do you need anything?” you shake your head no and he starts the van heading to the high school.

Your graduation went smoothly. as promised, Eddie got to walk the stage with you and flip principal Higgins the bird. And he in fact did run like hell out of that gymnasium after grabbing you like a maniac and dragging you with him.

However, as soon as you got to the trailer, you rushed to the small bathroom next to Eddie’s bedroom and immediately puked up whatever you had for breakfast that morning. You had your arms resting on the toilet seat as you bent over the porcelain groaning at the feeling in your stomach.

Eddie immediately followed behind and sat behind you pulling your hair back and rubbing small circles on the small of your back even though you had warned him not to. You didn’t want him to see you like this. Like always he ignored you and did it anyways.

Your blood ran cold when you caught sight of the tampon box next to Eddie’s toilet that he kept there for you when aunt flo came around. you were late.

“Eddie, I need you to do something for me.” you said quietly as you leaned up from the toilet resting your back against the wall of the tub.

“yeah of course babe, anything” he moved to sit next to you resting his head on yours.

“please don’t be mad, but i need you to go get a pregnancy test” your voice was scratchy as you felt tears brim your eyelids.

you felt him go rigid as you sucked in a breath, scared of his reaction as he slowly sat up.

he was hesitant to speak, his mouth bobbing open and closed much like a fish as he searched for words to say.

“uh, yeah i-ill go” he got up without saying anything else and exited the tiny trailer bathroom.

when you woke up sick this morning being pregnant hadn’t even crossed your mind. You were 18, and straight out of highschool. you didn’t have a job, you still lived with your parents, and barely knew how to take care of yourself let alone another human being.

The time alone left in Eddie's little trailer bathroom gave you time to weigh out your options. Although abortion seemed like the most logical thing to do, you couldn’t help but imagine what Eddie would be like as a father. His father wasn’t the greatest and Eddie deserved the satisfaction of proving his father wrong.

the more you thought about it the more you grew to love the idea of being a mother. you hadn’t even taken the test yet but you already found yourself imagining what it would be like to wake up to eddie and your son or daughter.

you heard the trailer door slam dragging you out of your thoughts as Eddie barreled through the tiny living room pregnancy test in hand.

“god babe that was so embarrassing, i never want to do that again '' your boyfriend nervously rambled as he opened the bathroom door. He sighed heavily as he crouched down to where you were sitting handing you the box.

you looked up at him, uncertainty filling your eyes “are you mad?”. Your question caught him off guard. Eddie was rarely ever mad at you. frustrated? yes. but never angry or mad. He looked at you like you hung the stars and the thought of you being uncertain he was mad at you made his chest tighten.

“what? no of course i’m not a mad sweetheart. This is a two person job. it’s just as much my fault as it is yours. i’m scared but no i’m not mad at you honey, and whatever decision you make i’ll be with you every step of the way” he spoke softly reaching down to wipe the stray tears off your face.

Eddie left the bathroom while you peed on the tiny little white stick. He argued that he could’ve just stayed in the bathroom claiming “I've seen you naked. I don't know how many times I don't know why me being in the bathroom while you take a piss is any different”.

The two minutes you had to wait felt like an eternity as you nervously paced the living room. Eddie stood next to the kitchen counter looking like he’d seen a ghost as he waited for the results.

you jumped as the tiny little egg timer went off and turned to look at your boyfriend. his big brown eyes meeting yours as you walked to the bathroom.

positive.

Your pregnancy was far from easy. you swore the little baby resting in your womb was out to get you.

you decided to tell everyone after your first ultrasound. you wanted to be sure that the baby was happy and healthy before letting your family and friends know.

Everyone was supportive and excited. After a long talk with your parents and a shit ton of invasive questions from the hellfire club everyone was happy for you.

Dustin immediately asked if he could be the baby's uncle and started making plans to babysit and even offered to teach them dnd, to which Eddie declined saying it was “his duty to make sure his child was taught by the best”.

Steve, Robin, and Nancy were nothing short of supportive and told you that they would be there to help along the way. Although you caught the hushed “great another kid to babysit” under Steve's breath, you were glad your friends supported you and Eddie's decision.

your 18th week ultrasound came faster than you thought it would. After confirming that your baby was happy and healthy, your doctor asked you if you’d like to know the gender.

you and eddie had discussed this beforehand and decided to keep it a surprise. The both of you loved your baby no matter what the sex, so the gender didn’t really matter.

amidst the chaos, Eddie had managed to get a good paying job as a mechanic at Thatcher Tire which meant he was bringing home decent money. Although you were now five months pregnant, you had decided to continue towards college. you now only had a year left before you got your nursing degree.

Because of the extra money being brought in, you and Eddie managed to find a small two bedroom house that both of you could afford. It was perfect. a cute little kitchen, and  perfect size living room for the baby to play in.

“What about ozzy? for a boy?” your boyfriend said as he sat with his legs crossed in front of him holding an instruction book for the crib the two of you were gifted by uncle wayne.

“I like it.” you giggled at him for his choice of names. it was no surprise that your boyfriend had thought of the name, he grew up listening to music and considered it a big part of his life. The two of you had decided that Eddie would pick the name if it was a boy, and you would pick the name if it was a girl.

“i really like the name stevie for a girl. like stevie nicks?” you spoke, folding the baby blanket and putting it inside the wardrobe that sat against the wall. He smiled and stood up stepping towards you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. the space between the two of you had recently been a little more separated by your growing belly.

“it’s perfect” he mumbled resting his forehead on yours. He slightly swayed the two of you causing you to smile and reach up meeting his lips. The kiss was slow and deep. the both of you pouring your love into each other like you couldn’t get enough. and truly neither of you could. Eddie was perfect. his soul bled into yours. There wasn’t a moment where you thought Eddie wouldn’t be the best father.

He was there for every breakdown, every kick, every appointment, every milestone. eddie was the epitome of a good man and it made your heart soar. he helped you shower when the baby was making you too tired to even step out of bed, he made trips to the store at 11 pm to get you ice cream because you mentioned you could really use some at the moment, he rubbed your back when it started to hurt after carrying around the extra weight and never once did he complain.

Eddie was beyond excited for the baby. when you told him the baby was kicking away at your stomach he would reach down and talk to them.

“hey kiddo, give your mama a break yeah?” he said as he felt the little pattern of the baby’s feet against his palm.

“stubborn little baby” he said while laughing as the baby continued to kick away.

“wonder where they get it from” you answered looking up at him with a smile.

you went into labor at 38 weeks. two weeks before your due date so you were caught off guard when you stood up from the couch to pee for the 38th time that night.

you had thought maybe you just didn’t make it to the bathroom in enough time but the contraction that came after told you your water broke.

Eddie lost his mind. He couldn’t decide whether or not he was excited or scared shitless as he scrambled around the house grabbing your bags and everything you needed.

“eddie calm down, it’s fine” you spoke a lot harsher than you meant to as he barreled through the house.

The car ride to the hospital was short and getting admitted into your room felt even shorter as the realization that you were about to give birth dawned on you.

Frankly, you were terrified of giving birth. you had heard awful stories about it and none of it sounded remotely enjoyable. you were pushing a baby out of a penny sized hole for christ sakes.

Eddie sat beside you with a vice grip on your hand practically bouncing from excitement. Although being excited was adorable, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed that he didn’t have to go through this pain as well.

“you’re doing so well sweetheart, i’m so proud of you” he spoke as you went through another contraction. After your epidural that you practically tore a nurse's head off for, your contractions were more of a dull ache instead of the sharp cramping pain you had felt originally.

After 11 hours of labor your doctor informed you that you were dilated enough to push. Eddie talked you through the entire hour of pushing as he smoothed your hair down and pressed soft kisses to the side of your head. Although he was excited for his child to come, he didn’t want to see his girl in pain.

the world stopped when you heard the first cry come from your baby.

“It's a girl!!“ your doctor exclaimed as she set your baby girl in your arms. 

you couldn’t believe that you were staring at your child. The baby that you had carried for nine months was finally in your arms and she wasn’t anything less than perfect.

too enamored by your daughter opening her eyes in your arms, you didn’t catch Eddie with tears streaming down his face at the sight of you interacting with the small baby. He couldn’t believe that something so beautiful was in this world because of him.

“hi stevie” you cried as you run your finger over the girls small nose.

stevie rayne munson truly was beautiful. She had her father’s beautiful brown eyes, and you could already see the tiny little ringlets of brown curls resting on her head. the only trait of yours she seemed to have was your nose. although she was spitting images of her daddy, you thought she was the most perfect thing to ever exist.

watching Eddie hold Stevie for the first time had you sobbing in your hospital bed. Maybe it was your hormones raging or maybe it was the amount of love you had for the two in front of you, but you couldn’t help the sobs that erupted from your throat as you watched Eddie hold his daughter.

Eddie himself was choking back tears as he stared down into the all too familiar eyes of his daughter. When he brought his pinky down to stroke her cheek and she reached her tiny little hand to grab ahold of it, Eddie had to choke back a sob.

bringing stevie home was definitely an experience.

you sat in the backseat of the van next to your daughters car seat giggling as your boyfriend drove carefully back to your shared home.

Out of the four years you had been dating him, Eddie had never driven as carefully as he did that day.

you, eddie, and stevie had finally started to fall into a routine as your family fell into place.

Stevie slept pretty well through the night, usually only waking up to eat.

breastfeeding had been a challenge. you had spent nights crying into eddie’s chest because it hurt so bad. you couldn’t help but think that you had made the wrong choice when you decided to breastfeed. you couldn’t even think of putting a bra on because they were so sore.

you felt like you were failing your daughter every time you had thoughts like those. Eddie was quick to reassure you that those thoughts were perfectly normal and that you were doing so well, and that Stevie was lucky to have such a good mother.

Eddie was everything you could ask for and more. He was beyond helpful and did everything without having to ask.

Stevie's screams rang through the tiny baby monitor on your nightstand as you rubbed your eyes and groaned.

“I got it baby, go back to sleep,” Eddie rasped as he stood up and stretched. you could hear the patter of his bare feet against the wood flooring as he made his way to her room.

“Hi Stevie girl, what’s wrong huh?” you heard him coo at her through the monitor as you smiled.

“You need to let your mommy get some rest, sweet girl,” he whispered, reaching down to kiss the five month olds forehead.

“you want daddy to sing to you?” you heard him say as you sat up, getting ready to sneak into the room to watch the interaction.

as you made your way down the hallway you heard the faint sound of his voice and the gentle sniffles coming from your daughter.

When you approached the door you were met with the sight of your boyfriend holding Stevie in the rocking chair that sat across her crib as he softly sang.

“Now and then when I see her face, she takes me back to that special place and if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry. whoa sweet child o’ mine” he softly sang the girl as she finally started to calm down from her fit.

you smiled as you watched him rock her and sing stepping in inside the bedroom.

At your entrance Eddie looked up and stopped singing. you looked so adorable in his band shirt and panties with your hair all messy from sleep. He switched stevie to his other arm as he motioned for you to come sit on the side she wasn’t on.

you carefully sat down trying your hardest not to disturb the sleeping girl as you sat down and rested your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in what was simply eddie.

You loved your little family and the sound of your daughter's tiny little snores finally lulled you back into sleep as Eddie smiled at the sight of his two girls sleeping on his lap.

“as if they thought of rain, i’d hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain

her hair reminds me of a warm safe place

where as a child i’d hide and pray for the thunder and rain to quietly pass me by

Woah oh, sweet child o’ mine”

[dontcare77ghj]

Your fingers

Yelena x reader x Kate

No one chose this life, at least not in the end.

In the beginning, sure, you could think was a choice, that you chose to protect the world and the people in it. But give it six months, and you would be begging to leave.

Begging to leave this life behind and return to the person you were before, but no one ever could.

Because by the time a person would realise they wanted out, they were already traumatised.

And the only solution was to keep going and find a way to silence the screaming of your mind.

That's what the three of you had done.

You, Yelena and Kate, had found a safe place with one another, and the three of you did your best to make each other feel safe.

But sometimes, there was nothing that could be done. Sometimes the traumas of this life would cause nothing but nightmares or restless nights.

Thankfully the three of you knew how to handle nights like these.

"It's getting late. I'm going to turn in." Kate yawned, standing from the couch.

"You sound like an old lady, Kate," Yelena said without turning away from the TV. "Have you been lying about your age?"

"If I was, you'd already know." Kate shook her head.

"Not wrong. I'd have known three hours after meeting you." Yelena smirked.

"You did background checks three hours after we met?" You asked, looking over to the blonde.

"I started looking into the two of you the moment I was alone." Yelena nodded.

"Smart." You said, giving the woman a nod.

"Or creepy," Kate suggested.

"In another life, it is, Kate, darling." You reminded her. "Actually, I might join, hon." You said, rising to your feet.

"You coming, Lena?" Kate asked.

"In a while. I'm still wired. I might go downstairs and hit something." Yelena mentioned.

"You mean a punching bag, right?"

"You know, if you're so wired, who don't you work on your report for Nat?" You smirked as Yelena groaned.

"You and this team suck all the fun out of fighting with your paperwork, you know that?" Yelena sighed.

"Alright, ignore your paperwork for tonight. But I'm not hiding you from your sister again." You said, pressing a kiss to the blonde's temple. "Night."

"Good night."

"Night, Lena."

"Good night, Kate Bishop."

Hours after going to bed with Kate, you woke up needing to use the restroom.

On your way back to the bedroom, you noticed the living room light was still on.

"Lena?"

"Didn't you go to bed hours ago?" The woman asked, turning to face you.

"Didn't you say you were going to join us?" You rose a brow.

"I said eventually. I never promised anything." Yelena reminded you.

"Hm." You hummed, moving to sit beside your partner. "Anyone get hurt?" You asked, referring to the mission Yelena had only come back from that morning.

"It's fight. Everyone gets hurt." Yelena murmured.

"Okay. Did you have to kill anyone?" You rephrased.

"Almost," Yelena admitted. "One of the widows had Nat pinned and a gun to her head. I had to think fast."

"And?"

"I shot her hand. And then I cured her."

"You didn't mean to hurt her." You reminded the woman. "That's not what you set out to do."

"Well, I technically did hurt her." Yelena shrugged. "She was only eighteen, Y/N. You should have seen her face." Yelena said, shaking her head. "I can't stop seeing the way she looked at me."

"Lena, look at me." You said, taking her face in your hands. "You saved her. At the end of the day, that's all that matters. That girl gets to live a semi-normal life, and it's because of you."

"I can't sleep, Y/N. I can't stop seeing her face." Yelena admitted quietly.

"Alright, come on." You said, pushing her head onto your lap.

"Really, Y/N?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Lena." You shook your head as you began running your fingers through her hair. "Just shut your mind off for a minute. Focus on nothing but this moment."

"You need to stop meditating with Banner and Maximoff," Yelena mumbled.

"Sh." You said, lightly flicking her ear before going back to running your fingers through her hair.

And for the next few minutes, the only sound in the room was the TV quietly playing in the background and you and Yelena's breathing.

After several minutes of quietly playing with Yelena's hair, you looked down and smiled.

You smiled because the blonde was fast asleep in your lap.

Non-reader POV

Kate had been on very few official Avengers missions.

So, when Clint said she'd be going on a mission with himself, Natasha, and Wanda, Kate was naturally excited.

Actually, Kate was overexcited.

She'd spent the week before training for hours on end and reading through the mission debrief packet every night.

And now, the night before she was supposed to leave, she couldn't sleep.

Kate had tried falling asleep in bed with Y/N and Yelena, but sleep had eluded her.

She had snuck out of bed, snatching the mission file off her bedside table before going to sit out in the living room.

"I'm surprised you can't recite that by memory now," Yelena said, causing Kate to jump.

"Jesus, Lena. What, what, what are you doing out here?" Kate stuttered.

"Seriously? What am I doing out here?" Yelena rose a brow. "You're trying that?"

"It's a serious question," Kate mumbled, looking away from the blonde.

"Uh-uh. And my question is, what are you doing out here?" Yelena asked, moving towards the woman.

"I'm sitting on the couch. I'm reading my debrief." Kate shrugged.

"Kate, you are leaving in seven hours. You need to be rested, or you're going to get hurt." Yelena said, sitting beside Kate.

"What? No, I'm fine. I don't need sleep. It's great, I'm great." Kate said, looking away from the woman.

"Don't be stupid, Kate Bishop," Yelena said, rolling her eyes. "You have to be on top of your game. This is a real mission, Kate. If you're not on top of your game, you're gonna get hurt." Yelena said, causing Kate to wilt. "You can't sleep, can you?"

"Look, I know I've done this before, but nothing this official. Like, look at this briefing." Kate said, waving the manilla around.

"I've seen the folder, Kate."

"If I screw up on this, I screw up the whole mission." Kate sighed. "And if I screw up, maybe someone else gets hurt."

"Alright, I can see the train of self-deprecation arriving at the station. C'mon, lay down." Yelena said, patting her lap.

"I'm not laying in your lap." Kate shook her head.

"It's not weird, don't look at me like that. Lay your head right here, cmon on." Yelena said, easing Kate's head into her lap. "Look, everyone gets nervous,"

"You?"

"I was going to say yes if you let me finish," Yelena said, flicking Kate's forehead.

"Ow."

"You've been training a lot, Kate. When we first met, your skills were like one-and-a-half, at best, and now you're like a seven." Yelena complimented.

"How did you romance me and Y/N again?" Kate asked, raising a brow at the blonde.

"Irresistible charm and accent." Yelena shrugged. "You are going to do just fine on this mission if you sleep." She said, running her fingers through Kate's hair.

"But I can't sleep." Kate yawned.

"No, of course not." Yelena shook her head.

"I don't think I'll be able to."

"No, you look wide awake."

"Hm-hm, you're magic fingers aren't working tonight."

"No, I don't think they will either," Yelena smirked as Kate's eyes closed and her breathing evened out.

Yelena continued to run her fingers through Kate's hair long after the woman fell asleep.

Reader POV

"You look like shit," Yelena said as you entered the living room.

"Thank you, Lena." You sighed, yanking your shoes off. "That's what I was going for when I woke up today." You said, pulling your hair out of its hair tie.

"Whoa. Who pissed in your cheerios this morning?" Kate asked you, lifting her head from the back of the couch.

"No one. I'm sorry, it's just been a long day." You sighed, making your way over to the couch and collapsing.

"Oomph! My legs are there." Kate grunted, looking down at you.

"Your legs, my pillows." You said, making yourself comfortable in her lap. "It's been such a long day."

"Alright, who did what?"

"Do you want me to stab someone for you?"

"No stabbing people unless they're the bad guy." You said, reaching over to pinch the blonde's thigh. "You remember that mission I went on with Nick's trainees?"

"The one where they almost let you get killed because of how stupid they are?" Yelena rose a brow. "Yes, we remember."

"I hated that mission," Kate mumbled.

"So did I." You promised, patting Kate's thigh. "Apparently, none of them did their paperwork, so I spent the whole morning tracking the three down before having to do it all myself. And then, to end the day on a low note, I had to train those same kids in a class with other idiot trainees."

"Why do I feel like there's an and there?" Kate guessed, causing you to let out a bitter laugh.

"There's an and. Those three tried to belittle me in front of all those other kids. One of them even said I was a shitty agent and got myself hurt because of it." You shook your head.

"Please tell me you handed him his ass?" Kate asked you.

"Or didn't, and I can?" Yelena asked, perking up in her seat.

"Oh, I handled him. Called him out in front of the whole class, kicked his ass, and threw him into a wall." You smirked.

"You threw him into a wall?"

"Did someone record it? Please tell me there's a video?"

"Are you allowed to throw trainees into walls?" Kate asked you as she ran her fingers through your hair.

"Probably not, but if he makes it onto another mission, he'll experience worse." You hummed. "I hate when they haven't seen how shitty this job is, it makes them cocky."

"One injury will get rid of that cockiness." Yelena shrugged. "On the field, or from me, doesn't matter."

"Maybe, sometimes, being cocky isn't such a bad thing," Kate mentioned. "Shows that maybe they know what they're doing."

"No cocky is bad. It gets us hurt, gets them hurt, it's bad for everyone." You said, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"You look like you should head to bed, Y/N," Yelena told you.

"No, I don't want to sleep. I want to have something to eat and watch something on TV with you two." You whined.

"Sweetheart, you're falling asleep on my lap," Kate told you.

"Then stop doing that thing with your fingers." You whined but didn't move away from Kate's fingers.

"Kate Bishop, do not move your fingers. Keep going." Yelena told the archer.

"Way ahead of you, Belova." Kate said, doubling down on scratching your scalp.

"I hate you both." You yawned as your eyes closed against their will.

"We love you too."

Sure, the three of you were pretty messed up from your pasts and day jobs but the three of you knew how to help each other.

Remember, all Taglists are open, as are requests. Taglists include the main taglist, individual characters, all male/female, and venom stories.

Taglist

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[earlgreydream]

rings.

| bucky barnes x reader | smut | fluff |

anon requested. bucky with rings

mafia au, soft!dom

cw: sliiiiight dubcon if you squint, but not actually

“You’re running the money through here?” Steve asked Bucky, and he nodded.

“Yes. We have a few other sites we launder through, but most of the money comes through here. Police don’t come poking around a locally owned Romanian restaurant on the upper east side,” Bucky explained.

“Boss is very... careful.” Zemo explained, referring to Bucky.

They were trying to make a deal with Steve and Sam, the two American bosses of another mafia they were trying to sell their illegal weapons to. One of their bases was raided, all of their drugs and weapons seized by the DEA.

They had come to Bucky, looking to buy more weapons to arm their dealers and “soldiers”.

“And who is this exactly?” Sam eyed Zemo suspiciously.

“Zemo. He’s security, and my weapons expert,” Bucky answered.

“Do you have connections?” Steve continued, trying to ignore the Sokovian’s unsettling stare.

“Yes. The head agent of the Manhattan DEA is one of us. Half of the local precincts are in our pocket, and I own the NYPD.” Bucky’s tone was impatient, he didn’t appreciate the questioning of his authority.

Bucky was the most powerful man in New York, and also the most feared. He demanded respect, dominating every space he entered. Steve and Sam wanted to be under his protection, and be supplied by him.

The men stopped talking when they heard a noise, and the four men burst into the front of the restaurant, guns drawn.

“Did you not lock the fucking door?!” Bucky snapped at Zemo. Zemo just rolled his eyes, and they stepped out into the dining room, where you stood.

You loved the Romanian restaurant just a few streets down from your building. You frequented it, their papanasi your favorite comfort food.

You’d had a rough week, a lot of family drama, and you were craving the Romanian food. You found the door unlocked and a back light on as you were walking home late, and you’d gone inside to try to get a snack.

It was empty, but four men had come out, three of them pulling guns and pointing them at you. You’d heard voices and had begun to walk to the back hallway, where they’d been talking in an office. You’d heard “I own the NYPD,” and nothing else. You’d started to leave when the men had appeared.

The man who didn’t have a gun pointed at you was in an all-black suit, silver eyes matching silver rings on his fingers that looked like they costed more than your Manhattan rent.

You were frozen, staring down the barrels of three guns, fear robbing your lungs of air.

“Get your fucking guns out of her face!” Bucky shouted, making you jump. Zemo obeyed immediately, but Steve and Sam kept their guns pointed at you.

“She’s-”

“She’s unarmed and terrified. Put down the fucking guns!” The other two slowly lowered their weapons, and you were shaking.

Bucky looked at you, a frightened girl who clearly had just ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time. You stared back at him, your hands trembling. You didn’t understand him protecting you from the other men, but you were thankful. 

“Please, I didn’t hear anything, I haven’t done anything... I just wanted some food,” you pleaded softly, looking at Bucky in hopes he’d take more pity on you.

“I believe you, doll, but we can’t let you leave,” Bucky spoke, and you bit your lip.

“I won’t do anything,” you promised.

“I know. You came for something to eat? Let’s get you some food. Zemo.” Bucky pushed the Sokovian toward the kitchen.

“Barnes, we can’t just-” Steve turned to Bucky, starting to object.

“You will respect my authority, Steve.”

You looked at him, and Bucky held his hand out for you to take. You hesitated, and his silver gaze softened.

“I’m not going to hurt you, doll,” he said quietly, and you carefully put your hand in his, the metal rings cold against your warm skin. Bucky pulled you toward him, his other hand going to rest on the small of your back as he led you to his office, sitting down with you on one of the brown leather couches. You began to smell the food Zemo was cooking, growing hungrier. Sam and Steve sat across from the two of you, and you shifted under their intense gazes.

“What’s your name?” Bucky asked you, and when you didn’t answer immediately, he introduced himself.

“I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky,” he felt bad that you’d gotten caught up with them. Under another circumstance, he probably would’ve sent you away, but he couldn’t let you go in front of the two Americans, and not risking what you may have heard of their conversation. 

Your mind was spinning. You’d never been in the presence of four men as beautiful as the ones in the restaurant. Bucky especially, was incredibly gorgeous. His stern, dominating personality made him far more attractive somehow, and you found yourself growing warm in your jeans.

“Your name, doll?” Bucky’s voice was soft as he called you back to attention, snapping your mind out of your wandering thoughts.

“Y/N,” you whispered, pulling at a rip in your jeans, letting your eyes fall down to your lap.

“That’s a pretty name,” Bucky said, repeating it, and god it sounded so much better falling from his lips.

“Here,” Zemo returned, setting down a plate for you. A small gasp left you as Bucky hauled you closer to him on the couch. You realized it was so that Zemo could sit down on your other side. You picked up the plate, eating quietly, trying to ignore the stares from the men across from you. 

Zemo and Bucky didn’t stare, and Bucky’s hand rested lightly on your leg. They began to speak in Romanian, and you didn’t understand, so you kept eating. You nearly choked when Bucky squeezed your thigh a bit, his rings glinting from the movement. 

You wondered how the cool metal would feel against your heat.

“Y/N? I asked if you were alright?” 

“Hm? Yes,” you blushed furiously, and Bucky had an amused smirk on your face, practically reading your mind, or at least recognizing filthy thoughts as you stared at his large hands.  

“Her cheeks look a little rosy,” Zemo hummed, his fingers brushing lightly over your cheekbone. Your chest rose and fell heavily, and Steve leaned forward and took the now-empty plate from your lap. 

“Are you nervous?” Bucky teased, his deep voice soaking into you, surrounding you and blocking out everything else.

“No, sir,” you shook your head, swallowing hard.

“Sir? So sweet,” Zemo chuckled darkly, and you felt his fingertips ghost down your spine.

“I am sweet,” you said, looking up at Bucky, and he tilted his head to the side a bit, running his hand up and down your thigh. You squeezed your legs together without meaning to, just needing to alleviate some of the sexual frustration that was building inside of you. 

You were overwhelmed by the two men speaking softly and sensually to you, their hands on you, the dominating personalities, and the tension in the room. You were focused on Bucky, and he helped you onto his lap. You let him move you to straddle his hips, your back to the other men. 

“Want to show me how sweet you can be, doll?” He asked, his hands resting on your ribcage, and you could feel him through your thin top. You nodded shyly, and he kissed you to get you to relax a bit. 

“My friends here are going to watch, okay?” Bucky’s voice was dangerously soft, and you nodded. He kissed your cheekbone lightly before slipping your top over your head, your breasts barely covered by thin, see-through lace.

You blushed, looking to the side and seeing Zemo shift at the sight of your chest.

“He’s admiring you,” Bucky hummed softly into your collarbone, pressing a kiss to the skin there, just above the curve of the lace on your breast. His hands slipped down into the back pockets of your jeans, squeezing you and pulling a breathy noise from you. You couldn’t see Sam or Steve, but you felt their gazes on your back, watching the way Bucky balanced softness and dominance with you.

“I want to make you feel good, I want to hear your little moans of pleasure,” Bucky spoke quietly, mouthing gentle kisses along your jaw.

“Please,” now, instead of begging to leave, you were begging for him, the mafia don you were on top of.

“Let’s let these poor boys behind you see. I want them to know who’s in charge here,” Bucky said, and you nodded in consent. You felt like you could collapse as he got you to stand up off of his lap. You looked down at his rings as he smoothed his hands up your belly to tease the raised peaks under your bralette. 

“So pretty, doll,” Bucky praised you, kissing just above your navel. His eyes gazed up at you, and your trembling fingers threaded through his dark hair as you got lost in the stormy grey. 

Bucky wanted to tear you apart, but he took it slow and was gentle for you, the sweet girl under his protection.

He kissed the space between your hips as he undid the button on your jeans, sliding them down your legs. He reached a hand up for you to take as you stepped out of them, holding you steady. He smiled at the lace bottoms that matched your top, nearly see-through. 

You heard a soft throaty noise from behind you, and you looked to see Sam and Steve with their hands down their trousers, stroking themselves as they watched Bucky undress you. Zemo was doing the same, but less shy than the other two, his suit pants down around his knees, giving you full view of his cock.

You blushed shyly, feeling exposed but somehow safe with Bucky, who was squeezing your ass, leaving imprints of his rings against your skin. 

“Look, they’re all touching themselves because of you, how beautiful and sweet you are,” Bucky turned you around so your back was to him, making you watch Steve and Sam. Your skimpy underwear showed how wet you were, and you were unable to hide how turned on you were any more. 

Bucky’s hands were on your hips as he kissed down your spine, shivers shooting through your body. He slid the lace down your legs, leaving it discarded on the floor with your jeans, but not bothering to get you fully naked. 

A soft squeal escaped as you were suddenly dragged backwards, falling onto Bucky’s lap, your back pressed against his suit-clad chest. 

“You can rest on me, doll,” he coaxed you to relax, his hands smoothing down your body. 

Steve and Sam were overwhelmed by the sight in front of them, and Bucky knew it. He was doing this to assert his dominance, and to establish a level of trust between them. They watched him part your legs, keeping them open with his knees. Zemo was much more unphased than the other two, enjoying the show as one of Bucky’s loyal friends.

Bucky could hear your soft, unsteady breaths, and he stilled when your smaller hand grasped his. 

“Leave them on, please,” you begged, tilting your head back to look him in the eyes before he could remove his rings.

“Of course, sweet girl.” Bucky planted a gentle kiss to your lips, deepening it to hear your soft moans. 

“Oh my god, fuck,” one of the men moaned as they came, seeing your sex glisten as Bucky licked into your mouth sensually. 

Bucky gently trailed his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you were. He began to stroke your clit softly, listening to you whine.

He eased one of his large fingers into your tight entrance. You shuddered, your breath stuttering as you felt the cold metal against your hot pussy, your muscles squeezing around his finger. 

“Does that feel good?” Zemo asked you as Bucky pushed two fingers inside of you, still teasing your clit to keep you relaxed.

“Answer him, doll,” Bucky commanded you sternly. 

“Yes, sir,” you turned your head to look at Zemo, watching his hips fuck up into his hand. 

“No, you keep touching yourselves. You’re not done until I’m done.” Bucky’s order was directed at Steve and Sam, who’s noises rose in pitch at the forced overstimulation. They were too afraid to disobey Bucky, knowing the consequences would be dire. Zemo knew this ahead of time, and was taking it much slower, still enjoying himself as he watched you writhe on Bucky’s lap. 

Bucky kissed along your shoulder and neck, three fingers pumping slowly in and out of you. He expertly drew whines and moans of pleasure from you, and your legs were beginning to shake from the intensity. 

The cold metal against your heat was driving you mad, making your eyes roll back in ecstasy. Your back arched off of Bucky’s chest, and he wrapped an arm around you to hold you against him. He still managed to stay calm enough to continue being gentle with you, leading you quickly toward a powerful orgasm.

“You must ask him before you let go, sweetheart,” Zemo informed you, and your broken whimper filled Bucky’s ears. He watched the other three men writhing in their own mind-blowing pleasure, all under the instruction of him. 

“Please, Bucky, I need-” you cut yourself off with a strangled squeal as he curved his fingers forward inside of you.

“Let go, I’ve got you,” He said, kissing your cheek as he murmured the soft words. Your screams of white-hot pleasure filled the room, shaking and falling apart on his lap. A choked sob left your chest as he pulled out of you, his digits soaked in your come. He’d waited until you had fell down from your high, becoming relaxed in his arms. 

He was whispering gentle praises in your ear as he slipped his fingers into your mouth to clean them off. You hollowed your cheeks, obediently cleaning him up and feeling the metal rings pressed against your lips. You were soothed by sucking off his fingers and the praises, melting into the mafia lord.

“I think I want to keep you.”

[pleaseleavemetowrite]

S1:E1 - Titans | Dick Grayson

I wanted to try something, if you like it. Please let me know so I'll know if I should carry this on or not. :) Also I included two (2) Taylor Swift references so gold star for you if you notice them

(Reader and Dick are in an established relationship btw)

Warnings!: spoilers for titans (kinda obvi), mentions of guns, mentions of kidnapping and death

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

(Y/n) could remember the day she fell in love with Dick Grayson, but she could also remember the day he stopped loving back.

She could remember the day that his smiles became a portal to a world of light, but she could also remember the day his smiles were no longer made for her eyes.

She could remember how his hand, no matter how calloused and rough, became the same one that held her so gently, but she could also remember the day that the touch became like a knife laying a thousand cuts.

She could remember hazy but long nights spent nursing wounds that weren’t always her own, and the night the wound was too fatal to patch.

She could also remember the night everyone left, leaving only the two of them, to talk over years of buried feelings and how that was the night Dick Grayson fell back in love with (Y/n), who never stopped loving him.

She remembered it all too well.

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

Rachel drew her hand away from the woman in front of her, eyebrows furrowing at the brief but abundant memories that flashed by at a million miles a minuet. (Y/n)’s eyes scanned the girl’s face as it happened but chose to not drift away from really mattered.

“You two need to help me.” Rachel’s voice was louder than before but still sounded vulnerable.

“And you vandalized a police car to get that help?” Dick’s voice remained stern. “You’re not understanding.” Rachel responded.

“What are we not understanding—” (Y/n) went to ask but was cut off by Rachel’s voice, “Someone killed my mom.”

The atmosphere shifted, and the air became colder. (Y/n) glanced beside her to Dick who met her eye. “Ok, name and address.” Dick told Rachel as he placed a notepad and pen in front of her.

(Y/n) felt her hand drift over to Dick’s, her pinkie reaching to stroke his knuckle, she could probably guess what memories this was causing to resurface. His eyes once again met hers and she tried a weak smile to ease something if anything in his mind. It seemed to work, slightly.

“She was all I had. The only person in the world who cared for me, I’m alone now.” (Y/n)’s hand drifted from Dick’s as Rachel reached to pass Dick his pen back and seemed to see the memories rush back as Rachel’s hand grasped his. She noticed the familiar sensation that painted over Dick’s face that she had been encapsulated with only moments prior.

Dick snapped out of it, pulling his hand away from hers, with his head snapping up to meet Rachel’s dazed face. He rose and moved to leave, with (Y/n) raising seconds later.

“Listen, we’re gonna check this out, okay?” Dick said, turning to leave with (Y/n) beside him. “Don’t leave me here.” Rachel sounded panicked as she saw them inch away. They turned towards her, “Rachel, you vandalized a police car. You’re not going anywhere until—" “You don’t understand. You need to lock me up, please.” (Y/n)’s eyebrows furrowed, and she glanced to the floor before looking back to Rachel, as Dick’s gazed remained fixed on the girl before them as his face fell to a pensive expression. “There is something inside me. Something evil.” Rachel continued, her face contorting to be more stressed and upset as the pair looked towards her.

“Neither of us can give you the help you need, but we will find someone who can.” Dick glanced towards (Y/n) quickly before settling on Rachel again, his face more concerned than before. (Y/n) face mirrored this expression, but she flashed Rachel a quick smile, an almost silent promise and conformation of Dick’s words.

The pair went to leave, and as Dick went to shut the door behind (Y/n), Rachel called out again, “Don’t leave me here, please.” “Look, we’re sorry, we really are.” Dick responded before closing the door, leaving Rachel alone in the interrogation room.

“I’m guessing you already have a plan?” (Y/n) questioned her tone only slightly bemused as she and Dick walked to their desks that faced each other. “Yeah, how did you know?” “Because, you always have a plan.” “And to say I don’t?” “Well then I would think hell froze over.” (Y/n) lightly chuckled as she sat down and faced her chair center of the large, cluttered desk.

Her hand moved to subconsciously draw faint swirls on a random piece of paper as she listened to Dick’s phone call, “Hey, so, she says her mom was killed. If you could send someone down there, that’d be great.” She couldn’t quite hear what Jones said but she watched Dick thank him before she saw his eyes drift to his monitor with the news displaying their actions from the night prior, before agreeing and hanging up.

(Y/n) moved to stand behind his chair, resting her hand on the top, as they both intently watched the screen. Dick’s head turned slightly, and their eyes met for a moment. A silent conversation between them.

(Y/n) stood slightly behind Dick as they walked outside the police station, both taking a moment to breathe and pause before Dick’s partner, Amy, approached.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Dick initially brushed her off, “We’re kind of in the middle of something.” With Dick gesturing for them both to head back inside, however Amy once again stopped them, “So what? You and your sidekick go bad?” (Y/n) initially felt confusion at the question but upon seeing Dick’s face she eased slightly and took a step backward, an indication that they need to talk.

“I’m sorry?” Dick tried to brush her off once more. “At Gotham PD. I mean I’m no mind reader. It just seems kinda obvious.” (Y/n) held back a laugh at Amy’s comment and her persistence, but she was right, Dick couldn’t really hide it well, despite what he thought.

Dick saw this and eventually gave in, “I guess we had different ideas of how to do the job.” He stepped slightly closer, but kept his hands embedded into his pockets, “How’s that? He on the take? I heard how Gotham is.” Dick shook his head slightly, “No, not him. He was a hero to a lot of people, including me. A stop-at-nothing guy, who solved everything with his fists. I admired him at first, what he did…or was trying to do.”

(Y/n) overheard how he recalled it all, she noticed how he left out details he had told her, how he altered it to fit the vagueness needed to not really give anything away. “But eventually I had to walk away.” Dick carried on. “Why?” Amy asked in response, seemingly wanting to know more than Dick was willing to tell her. Dick paused his eyes finding the worn pavement below them and briefly meeting (Y/n) who stood behind them, before answering,

“Because I was becoming too much like him.” Amy’s head tilted down and fell to her left, her eyes also lingering on the floor before asking, “So, you’re not really, huh?” Dick’s face flashed a moment of confusion, “What?” and as Amy responded, “An asshole.” (Y/n) really couldn’t contain the light laughter that escaped her as Dick heard, chuckled and replied, “Don’t tell, it’ll kill our rep.” (Y/n) stepped forward at this. “Excuse me? Our rep? Don’t pull me into this.” She responded but her tone was light as Amy told them, “Don’t worry anyway, your secret’s safe with me.”

As she walked away from the pair, Dick looked the ground with a faint smile, turning to look to his left with (Y/n) turning with him. Her hand finding its way into his pocket. Dick looked towards his now shared pocket. “Really?” “What...It’s cold.” She jokingly defended herself, dragging the ‘A’ out slightly, “You’re always cold.” “Am not, we just happen to live in Detroit.” They both laughed slightly but neither tried to remove (Y/n)’s hand, with Dick’s larger hand encapsulating her smaller one.

The couple took a few more moments enjoying the peace and rare quieter moment with each other, before moving back inside as Dick’s cell began to ring. Due to their closer proximity, (Y/n) could hear what was being said, “This is officer Jones, Traverse City PD.” Dick hummed to indicate he remembered the name, “Girl you called in about, Rachel Roth? We found her mother. Gunshot to the head. Looks like a homicide. I’ll have our CSI send you the details as we get them.” (Y/n) listened to information given to them before Dick thanked him before hanging up, their faces wearing the same expression, their eyes meeting in uneasiness.

(Y/n) took a deep breath, as Dick pocketed his phone before they both moved up the stairs to go back to the interrogation room and tell Rachel the information they had gathered.

But once they reached the room, they looked and Rachel was gone, with her bag also missing there was no sign she was even in the room to begin with. (Y/n) felt dread wash over her and panic seep into her bones, as Dick checked behind them to see if they had simply missed her, but with still no sight of her the two them left in search for her.

“She should be here; I don’t know why she isn’t.” Dick’s voice veered to frustration as they descended the stairs, “Unless, someone is trying to transfer her.” (Y/n) responded after thinking for a moment. The pair paused before walking quicker and towards where the police cars were.

As they made it out, a car drove past with Rachel in the back, unconscious. The pair jogged behind it, getting the number as (Y/n) radioed, “Detective (L/n). Can I get a 10-20 on the car number 310?” The pair ran back inside.

(Y/n) and Dick bided their time until they were given a location, (Y/n)’s leg bobbed up and down as Dick paced slightly. However, it wasn’t long before they were given the place they needed to be. This took them to a run down but obviously not abandoned house.

Dick climbed through first, landing softly before launching into attack at the sight of the “police officer”. He landed a few hits and dodged a few, as (Y/n) entered hitting the back of the man’s head before ducking and joining Dick’s side as the fighting continued until the man landed at least unconscious onto the bed against the wall.

The pair continued through the house, close to each other with their pistols raised in anticipation of another person looking to fight either of them. Once they had scoped another room, only to find another run down and dingy room, with no captor and no Rachel.

Dick glanced to (Y/n), with her furrowed eyebrows, tense shoulders and stiff back, with her eyes trained on every small detail in the surrounding area, it didn’t take a detective to figure out what she was feeling.

Cautiously but loudly, Dick tried what felt to be a desperate move in the moment, “Rachel?” (Y/n) already tense shoulders seemed to raise slightly, questioningly, until they both heard a shout call out to them.

“Help! Help!” She sounded to be above the pair, almost exactly, that was until the clear shouts descended to become muffled screaming.

The pair immediately began to make their way to the source of the sound, searching for a way to get to the floor above, quickly finding a broken in areas and creaking set of stairs. The pair, maneuvered carefully as they made their way up.

After the previous sounds of Rachel’s screaming died down (Y/n) called out for her again, upon realizing that Dick wasn’t alone, Rachel’s captor moved to hide behind the door, knife raised ready to attack the first one that tried to enter the room.

Carefully, Dick and (Y/n) began to move towards where they heard Rachel’s muffled screams, guns once again raised and ready to once again in case of anything were to happen to either of them.

However, once they had Rachel in their line of the sight, the door was roughly launched closed, sending both tumbling backwards onto the floor and half-sprawled across each other, light groans escaping at the sudden movement and crash. They wearily glance to each other, a gesture and way of silently checking on each other to ensure the other’s wellbeing before quickly raising back up to attempt to open the door.

Upon feeling a weight prohibiting the door from opening, they begin to try and call out to her, voices overlapping and marring together as they hear whatever is stopping the door from opening, bang against and repeatedly hit against the door.

They then begin to hear a deep scream, presumably a man, the man who is responsible for Rachel’s capturing.

Then, the screaming stopped, and the weight on the door eased slightly, and while it seemed obvious that they would immediately open the door and rush in, a small part of them hesitated.

What if they opened the door and it wasn’t what they anticipated? What if they hadn’t got to Rachel in time?

The hypothetical scenarios began to swirl, and grow, overlapping and becoming distinct while still beginning to become one.

They break out of their minds as the face of a man, presumably the one they heard screaming, pressed against the door, displaying a blood red mark against the door and leaving a stain after the man disappeared.

Dick entered the room first, gun raised and cautious, weary that the man all and all could easily still be alive and able to hit them, unaware of what had happened in the room moments prior while him and (Y/n) were futilely shouting and attempting to open the door.

(Y/n) then entered, holding her gun tightly to her palm but it wasn’t raised as she immediately looked for Rachel, finding her tied to a molding chair in the center of the room. (Y/n) pocketed her gun, lightly jogging over to the young girl. She quickly removed the ties binding her to the chair, before gently cupping Rachel’s face into her palms, gently wiping away the tears.

Once sure that the man wasn’t getting up anytime soon, Dick also rushed over to them, (Y/n) slightly moved, removing her hands from the girl’s face and resting her hand on her knee instead. Unsure if it’s to calm Rachel or to assure herself that Rachel was safe, and they had made it in time.

“What happened?” Dick asked, his eyes swirling with questions, some that will most definitely remain unanswered. Rachel’s eyes, now once again filled with tears, poured out as she responded, “I don’t know.”

She then bounded into the couple’s arms, looping her arms around them, sobbing into Dick’s shoulder, as (Y/n) rubbed her hand up and down Rachel’s back. As Dick quickly recovered from his shock, he hugged them just as tightly. Rachel’s shoulders shook uncontrollably as she borderline begged.

“Please help me.”

Dick and (Y/n) looked to each other, and ultimately knew what they had to do, despite what may be their better judgement.

Once Rachel’s sobs had subdued to slight hiccups and sniffles, (Y/n) spoke up, “Come on, let’s get out of here, it stinks.” While the last bit was spoken with a slight hint of humor, the statement held more weight to it.

The now, trio left the building, all choosing to not look back on at it and moving on forward, even if that forward didn’t seem clear at that moment in time.

Dick and (Y/n) glanced to each other every so often, seeming wanting to speak but feeling unable to as they remained in mostly silence for much of the journey. Leaving time for them to process and think over what had happened that evening, and the no doubt long term consequences it will have on all of them.

Once they entered the garage, Rachel couldn’t help the question that slipped out at the sight of the older, but expensive silver car in front of her, “This is yours?” (Y/n) let out a smile as she and Dick stood at the front and trunk of the car, “It’s a family heirloom of Dick’s.” She explained, placing the baggage down as she looks to Rachel’s confused expression, “From the circus?”

(Y/n) and Dick shared a knowing glance towards each other before Dick responded, “Not the family you’re thinking of.” With neither of them choosing to elaborate further despite Rachel’s increased evident confusion.

“Come on, lets go.” (Y/n)’s voice is slightly more happy sounding then Rachel had heard it all evening, definitely not cheerful but more void of stress then it had been prior.

Rachel slipped into one of the backseats, as (Y/n) eases into the passenger and Dick takes the drivers.

The ride was silent, with (Y/n) blankly watching the world rush past and away through the window beside her and Dick’s eyes are trained on the road ahead, and Rachel seems deep within the thoughts of her own mind.

After a few moments, Rachel breaks the barrier of quiet, “Where are we going?” (Y/n) remains silent, but acknowledges she heard her as she moved her eyes from the window to look at Dick who, took a moment before his eyes meet Rachel’s in the rear-view mirror before giving the brief answer, “Somewhere safe.” However, his voice and tense facial expression didn’t do much to consolidate this as his eyes quickly switched back the road and his posture remained stiff. (Y/n) also remained in a similar manner, giving little away to Rachel.

“My mom says there’s no such thing as monsters.” Rachel began, catching the pairs full attention as she turned to look out of her window before stating, “I think she was wrong.” This causes (Y/n)’s facial expression to soften, sympathy leaking through and almost melting her façade.

(Y/n) looked into the mirror, making eye contact with the girl in the back, her gentle eyes along with the soft shake of her head, betraying the attitude of her silent demeanour and tense body language.

And, while she wanted to just tell Rachel everything, she couldn’t.

[one-sad-human]

•Pinky Promises• Steven Adler

Pairing: Steven Adler x Reader, Axl Rose x Sibling! Reader

Requested? Yup! By an anon

Theme: Angst(?) to fluff

Warnings: Language, sexual references but nothing explicit

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Fic 1 of 2! Hope you enjoy! Also, the makeout near the end gets sorta hot and it was pretty fun to write? Like I’m considering exploring into writing smutter pieces. I didn’t want to originally because I thought I’d cringe all the way through and hate the result but I might try it out in the near future. Nothing too crazy but it’s something for me to think about.

     You step off of the large bus, your combat boots hitting the ground as you adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. It's stuffed to the brim with whatever you threw in, you're surprised the zipper did burst.

     You take a deep breath of the LA air. It's hot and humid and despite the thick air pollution, you can breath easier than you did in Indiana.

     You grew up in Lafayette, Indiana with your older half-brother William. You were raised in the hellish house with your shared father, which you finally managed to escape.

     William left right at eighteen. He tried taking you with him, but you didn't want him to be charged with kidnapping and have the cops on his ass. Now, two years and your father's stolen wallet later, you're finally in the city of dreams.

     "Will!" You yell out, spotting your redheaded other half.

     "Y/N!" He mocks, catching your figure in a crushing hug. He's taller than you, so you have to stand on your tippy toes during the embrace. "Thank God you're alright."

     "I'm fine, I'm happy to finally see you again," you say, a huge grin on your face. "How's the band? Everything going well?"

     "Well enough," he says with a shrug, grabbing your heavy bag and slinging it around his shoulder. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys. You already know Izzy of course, but the rest of them."

     The walk to the 'hell house' as Will had called it is filled with catching up. He made sure to keep in contact with you, but the phone calls were always short. It felt nice to have a full length conversation in person with your brother again.

     "Welcome home," Will says, leading you into the house. You grimace when you catch a whiff of stale beer and weed.

     "You seriously live here? This place should be condemned," you say with disgust.

     "And then where would we live?" The oh-so familiar voice of Will's best friend meets your ears. You whip around and fly into his arms.

     "Jeffery! I missed you so much! You really should've tried calling, you ass!" You exclaim. Izzy rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless, patting your back during the hug.

     "Who's this?" Another man enters the living room— if that's what it should even be called. He's blonde, taller than you but shorter than the other two men in the room. He has kind eyes and the smile he has on his handsome face leaves you speechless.

     "U-uh, hi. I'm Y/N," you say after a moment of shameless gawking. If he noticed, he doesn't mention it.

     "Oh that's right! Axl talks a lot about you! I'm Steven," he says and bounds up to you, catching your hand in a shake. You don't question who the hell 'Axl' is, but you smile stupidly at him and bite your lip with a blush staining your face.

     "No," Will says, glaring at the cute blonde you've taking an immediate liking to. "Absolutely not."

     "William!" You squeak out, pinching his shoulder harsher. He yelps and swats your hand away. Will glares further at you as he ushers you up the creaky stairs to your room. "Nothing happened! And who the fuck is 'Axl'?"

     "I saw how you were looking at him! I'm not naive, Y/N. You were giving him the 'fuck me' eyes! And me, everyone calls me Axl here." You give him a look. "Except you, of course. You can call me Will."

     You don't give him another word as he leads you to your bedroom. He was the one who didn't have a roommate before, and he'd have to share with Slash now but he was determined to give you your privacy.

     "This is the only room with a working lock, use it. Especially when your changing! Three horny men in a house with one you isn't a good combo." You make a face and shake your head, but you can't really tell if he's being overprotective or if his band mates really are pigs.

     "Are you not including Izzy?"

     "Please, he's the only smart one besides me. He knows I'll rip him a new one." You laugh and give Will another hug.

     "I've really missed hanging out with you like this, and thank you for letting me stay here." He nods and rubs your back.

     "No problem, we have each other's backs, always." You nod and release your bother from the hug. "One rule though: no hooking up with the guys. One time thing or not, you don't know them like I do, I won't let you get hurt. So don't even try anything with Steven!"

     "Even if it's nothing sex?" Will levels you with a look that would make you sweat if you were anyone else. You sigh and roll your eyes. "Fine! I promise."

     "Pinky promise?" He asks, holding out his pinky finger. You shake your head but comply anyway, hooking your pinky on his.

     "Wow, bringing out the big guns, pinky promises," you tease.

     "Bitch," he mumbles. You gasp sarcastically.

     "Asshole!" You reply. William takes his leave with another slew of insults under his breath but none to be taken seriously and all with a smile. You shut your door after him and lay on your bed, content with how things are finally beginning to look up.

If you knew where you would be in just a few months of living with your brother and his band, you never would've agreed to the naive promise Will had forced on you. You think back to the day with a frown.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Steven asks, pecking your bare shoulder as he lays behind you on your bed. You both lay naked and damp with sweat, glowing from the moonlight streaming in the room.

"William," you say with a sigh.

"We just had sex and your thinking of your brother? Should I be worried about you?" Steven asks teasingly. You fight the smile growing on your face and lightly pinch the his arm tightly wrapped around you. He never fails to make you laugh.

"I just feel bad keeping this a secret from him." You turn around to be face to face with Steven. "It's been months of sneaking around. I'm always nervous we'll get caught together or I'll blurt it out to him."

"Then why don't we just tell him?"

"Do you want to die! Steven, honestly, do you have a death wish?"

"No, but—"

"Then we can't tell my brother we're together. He'll murder you, and then probably me one he finds out how long I've been lying to him," you say and move your head in the crook of Steven's neck.

"Then we can be together in the afterlife!" Steven folds his arms around you even tighter. "Seriously though, we can't lie to him forever. We've been together for six months already, surely he'll see how much we care about each other and not want to kill us."

"Yeah, maybe," you say halfheartedly and close your eyes, finally letting yourself fall asleep.

The next night, Guns has a gig at the Whiskey A-Go Go. The ritual goes like it has been, they play the gig, you wait for Will to get drunk, and you and Steven sneak out to the back of the club to make out and maybe get felt up a bit before returning like nothing happened.

It isn't different this time. Steven's hands leave your skin ablaze as he lets them wander down your sides and up your thighs. His lips don't leave yours, even as he squeezes your ass and you let out a moan. He grins on your mouth and presses his pelvis up to your stomach.

His mouth leaves yours to press feather light kisses to your cheek before trailing down your jaw and onto your neck, where he sucks nips at. You have to press a hand to your mouth to stay quiet.

"Don't leave marks," you remind him through batted breath.

"I won't," he reassures and silences you with a chaste kiss to your swollen lips before returning his attack on your neck.

You hear footsteps fast approaching, but as quickly as you hear them, Steven is ripped away from you. He's slammed into the brick wall next to you harshly and groans. You jump away and gasp.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" William asks, his voice lower than usual. His green eyes dark and downright scary.

"Will! Let him go, come on. Stop fucking around, you didn't have to slam him into a wall," you say, but your shaky voice falls on deaf ears as Will doesn't move. Your hands grasp at his arm and try to yank him away from Steven, but he's stronger and taller than you and doesn't budge, he just keeps his eyes focused on Steven.

"Nothing!" He squeaks out. Even in the dark, his kiss bruised lips and flushed red face is obvious.

"'Nothing?' That's why you were ten seconds away from fucking Y/N?" Will asks.

"William stop it! You're scaring me! Leave him alone!" You push him again and this time, he relents. Will paces and runs his hand through his red locks while you rush to make sure Steven is ok.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Steven mutters and presses a kiss to your brow to comfort you, sending you a smile when he pulls away. He keeps his hands on your arms and rubs circles with his thumbs.

"How long has this been going on?" Will asks, crossing his arms as he finally stops his pacing.

"Six months..." Steven says nervously. William scoffs and shakes his head. "But it isn't just fucking around! I love them, Ax. Really."

You smile bashfully, biting your lip to try and contain it. You knew you felt strongly for Steven and that he returned the feelings, but you haven't outright said you loved each other— until know of course.

Will stays silent for a few beats, staring contemplative at Steven. He finally sighs, bring a hand up to rub his temples like he has a building headache.

"Yeah? And you love him, Y/N?" He asks. You nod, reaching out to grab Steven's hand. Steven lets a grin creep on to his face. "Then I guess I can't stop you. But if you ever break their heart, I'll fucking gut you, Adler."

If Will makes Steven nervous, he doesn't show it. He gives him a salute with his puppy dog like smile before sticking out his pinky.

"I promise I'll never hurt Y/N purposely, ever." Will rolls his eyes, the irony makes him nearly groan aloud. He sucks it up anyway when he sees your hopeful expression, hooking his pinky onto Steven's.

"Don't make me regret this, Steven," Will grumbles before leaving and walking back into the crowded club. Steven lets out an exhilarated laugh and kisses you, hard.

"Told you he wouldn't kill me!" Steven exclaims, making you laugh out of surprise.

"And we don't have to sneak around anymore!" Steven kisses you again, and again and again until you're breathless.

"I'm so in love with you," he mumbles between his attack on your lips. You smile, tangling your hands in his aqua-net filled hair.

"As I am with you."

[the-widow-sisters]

Okay, what if during those 2 weeks while Nat was on the run, she visits Yelena because she misses her and they hang out for a bit, but out of the blue, Natasha hugs Yelena and tells her she's so happy that she's alive and okay and is almost crying.

A/N: Thank you so, so much for this idea! I always love writing stuff with these two early on in their relationship when they’re so adorably tentative about their actions and so very much want to be close with each other 🥺💖

Also, this one takes place after my other fic “Reunion” and there are several references to it throughout this fic. The first part of “Reunion” is posted here along with its other parts if y’all are interested in reading 💖

I hope y’all enjoy! 😊💗

Word Count: 3094

  Yelena collapsed tiredly on her couch in the ratty little hideout that she had managed to scrounge together for herself. She was currently in Hungary looking for three different widows that she was meant to free from their mind control.

  When she had agreed to take up the task of freeing all the widows, she knew it was not going to be easy. However, some part of her heart was just not exactly in it.

  Granted, she wanted nothing more than to ensure that no other woman or girl would have to go through or was currently going through the things that she had, and she wanted to give them the opportunity to make their own lives for themselves. But she also wanted the opportunity to have her own life as well. One with Natasha.

  And she had gotten a small yet intoxicatingly sweet taste of that life until about two weeks ago when Melina had contacted her to tell her that she was able to synthesize the antidotes and that she could start doing missions now. Yelena had been pleased, but some darker, painstakingly large, more selfish part of her just wanted to stay with Natasha.

  They had to flee the safehouse in Norway, but they had managed to find another safe place to stay and they had settled into a beautiful, strangely familiar routine. And Natasha had even started showing her affection, and while Yelena was completely unfamiliar with gentle touches and soft attentions, she found that ever since the small touches they had shared in their time on their great adventure to destroy the Red Room, she just wanted every bit that Natasha had to give her.

  But nevertheless, when Melina called, she had to leave, and to her shock as she left, Natasha had wrapped her in a surprisingly tight hug. Yelena honestly never wanted to leave her arms then and she would have just been the happiest person in the world if she died there at that moment, but Natasha finally let her go, giving the collar of her vest one last small tug and gave her the number for her burner phone for any emergencies. She then just let her go about her way with promises of seeing her again following her as she left.

  It had been two weeks and while Yelena knew that realistically was not that long, some small part of her was growing afraid that Natasha might not visit her. That she might decide that she did not really want Yelena and that she would rather cut ties and leave things be.

  A more logical part of herself reassured that Natasha was on the run and it was bound to take quite a bit of time for her to finally visit.

  But there was still that huge part of her that was begging her to dial that burner phone if only to her the sound of Natasha’s heavenly rasp again. That one that successfully made Yelena feel safe and made warmth blossom throughout her chest.

  Yelena let out a deep sigh, and she closed her eyes for a moment. However, as she shut her eyes, her sense of hearing became a little keener and more concentrated, and she suddenly noted that she thought she heard the sound of a spoon clunking softly against a container.

  Yelena’s eyes shot open as she rose up slowly from where she was slumped on the couch, and she very carefully reached for the gun as she started to raise up. Once she locked her hand around it, she spun around swiftly, the business end pointed in the direction of the person that was not too far behind her in her kitchen that was obviously eating her food.

  To her utter and complete surprise, Natasha was standing there with a peanut butter spoon in her mouth and painfully shortened blonde hair hanging about her head. Yelena almost did not recognize it to be Natasha at first glance, but those beautiful, caring eyes, and those comfortingly gorgeous features told her everything she needed to know. Yelena just blankly stared at her for a long moment, the gun still held in her direction.

  “Wow… You’re serious about your peanut butter, huh?” Natasha questioned playfully as she raised an eyebrow and pulled the spoon from between her lips, and she looked so utterly comfortable and perfectly in place there in that spot in the kitchen that it made Yelena’s heart ache with love.

  “Natashka,” Yelena breathed, her voice quiet as she just stared at her with wide eyes as she finally let her gun drop slowly.

  “We’ve got to stop greeting each other like this,” Natasha finally pointed out, and Yelena put her gun down on the small table beside the couch as she started toward the kitchen. She could hardly believe that Natasha was truly there in front of her.

  And as Yelena got closer and had a chance to truly take in the sight of the redhead, she was stunned at the sight of their vest hugging Natasha’s torso. Yelena swallowed hard as she stood in front of her finally, and Natasha’s eyes gently searched her own, the both of them not saying a word as they unintentionally mimicked the time that they had met for the first time at Natasha’s Norway hideout not so long ago.

  Yelena finally pulled herself together enough to smirk a little as she tentatively reached out toward Natasha’s hair. Natasha huffed as she remained still, obviously patiently waiting on Yelena’s verdict.

  “You are such a poser,” Yelena informed her gently, and Natasha rolled her eyes heavily as she reached over and sat the peanut butter spoon in the sink not too far off. Yelena felt her heart filling with a giddiness as Natasha returned her gaze to her with a small, affectionate grin.

  “Not a poser. Yours is longer than mine, so it’s different,” Natasha told her easily, reaching out toward Yelena’s hair where it was hanging in a ponytail.

  Yelena stayed perfectly unmoving, waiting eagerly for Natasha to make contact. Natasha hesitated for a short moment before letting her hand move all the way as she playfully tugged the ponytail. Yelena moved away, feeling a slight irritation at the small pull, but mostly a ridiculously huge love and excitement was filling her as she had to do everything within her power to keep from grinning hugely.

  “Pfft… Whatever. But I guess I see your point. Even though you have not reached my beautiful shade of blonde, I guess you cannot be on the run with your head looking like traffic light,” Yelena informed her, and Natasha chuckled just a little in reply to her but mostly shot her a glare. Yelena felt her heart swelling with the sound of Natasha’s mirth.

  “So… Finally decided to visit?” Yelena asked her, subtly trying to pry a bit of a confession from Natasha. She was desperately hoping that Natasha was coming to visit not just out of some feeling of obligation.

  “Yeah… I had to come and test your defenses, little one,” Natasha answered breezily as she moved past Yelena softly, their shoulders just barely touching, and Yelena felt as if her heart might just melt in her chest at the fact that Natasha was still wanting to call her by that special nickname.

  They had been apart for two weeks now. While some part of Yelena was terrified that they would not really be able to reach that level of closeness they had while Yelena stayed with her on the run, the way that Natasha was acting now was giving her faith that maybe they would keep it and maybe Natasha wanted to keep it, too. Maybe the whole thing had not been a big lie and maybe she could actually stay trusting Natasha.

  Even though they had so many confessions of feelings and emotions and love during that period of time together, Yelena still found herself terrified that if she left Natasha alone, the redhead would change her mind. But it seemed like she might could actually put faith in it remaining unchanged.

  “By the way, might want to keep that back window locked a little more often,” Natasha teased lightly, those light greens shining with something resembling love, and Yelena was almost unable to shoot back a good sarcastic response with the unadulterated genuineness in the older woman’s gaze.

  “Are you sure you didn’t come just because you missed me?” Yelena mustered, trying her best to sound as teasing as possible despite the fact that the words came from a deep place of insecurity and hope.

  “You sound like me when you broke in at the Norway hideout,” Natasha smirked as she took a seat on the couch with that swaggering confidence that was both like and so unlike her. Natasha was always sure of herself, but she always seemed almost unsettled around Yelena.

  Yelena almost wondered if this overconfident exterior was to cover up severe insecurity on the inside. Yelena headed over to her older sister and sat down next to her not too far off as she pondered that thought while trying to keep up a sarcastic, playful banter in order to hide her true feelings.

  “Ah. Well, you could have said that you didn’t miss me.”

  “What? You want me to miss you?”

  “I don’t care if you do or not. It’s my life, leave me alone,” Yelena somewhat grumpily shot back at her, irritated that Natasha had caught onto her so quickly. Of course, she guessed that it was her own fault for continuing to bring it up.

  “How is that relevant?”

  “It is my life, so I can care or not care,” Yelena defensively grumbled, and Natasha just remained quiet for a long moment. There was a silence between them, and Yelena was about to cave and start trying to change the subject to a lighter topic when Natasha suddenly spoke up softly.

  “I missed you,” Natasha finally admitted, and Yelena’s entire head snapped over to look at Natasha quickly as she took in the sight of the now-blonde woman. Natasha almost looked as if there were slight tears in her eyes with the glassiness of her gaze, and Yelena was immediately taken aback by the emotion that was so obviously overwhelming the older woman.

  Yelena swallowed hard, trying to contain her own emotions threatening to bubble up as she frowned just a little in an attempt to hold them back. However, she quickly tried to smile just a little as she looked at the older woman.

  “I missed you, too,” Yelena expressed, doing her best to keep her voice steady without signs of wavering. Natasha started to raise up just a little from where she was slumped down, scooting over just a little closer to Yelena. Yelena just watched her, wanting more than anything for Natasha to close the distance.

  Natasha offered her a very brief onceover, her hands resting on her thighs as she just stared at Yelena for a moment.

  “Can I… Can I hug you? Please,” Natasha questioned, her voice sounding strangely pleading, and Yelena immediately felt her heart swelling as she nodded without any hesitation. The corners of Natasha’s lips curved up a little, and she moved even closer, her arms extending as she carefully brought Yelena into her arms.

  Yelena took in a somewhat sharp breath in spite of herself, immediately mentally cursing herself for seeming so weird. She simply wanted a good, strong whiff of that scent that brought all the comfort in the world to her. She just hoped Natasha did not think that something was wrong.

  Natasha just embraced her, her arms around her as she pressed her nose against Yelena’s shoulder. Yelena did not wait for even a second as she nuzzled her own nose into Natasha. She tried to surreptitiously take in big breaths of her big sister, and Natasha softly rubbed her back, her hand moving gently along her as she just held her near. Yelena’s arms tightened on her, and she was hoping with everything she had that Natasha would not notice precisely how desperate she was for this.

  “I’m so happy you’re alive and okay,” Natasha whispered to her, her voice gentle and somewhat shaky as she spoke, and Yelena felt her heart twist as she took in the pain and honesty in Natasha’s voice. She did not know what had happened, but she could not help but wonder if something scared Natasha.

  “I’m glad you are, too… Are you okay?” Yelena asked, remaining quiet to avoid disturbing the atmosphere surrounding them. Natasha nodded, and Yelena could hear her swallow hard as she sniffed in an obvious attempt to pull herself into some semblance of being composed.

  “I’m fine,” Natasha told her, her voice barely sounding off near Yelena’s ear, and Yelena furrowed her brow a little. She knew that was not the truth. It simply could not have been. Natasha did not cry unless something was wrong.

  “You sure about that?” Yelena questioned, and Natasha remained dead silent, her hand rubbing gentle circles on Yelena’s back that she felt she could get lost in as the other just held Yelena against her firmly.

  “Nightmares… Bad ones lately,” Natasha simply stated in explanation, and Yelena nodded slowly, allowing Natasha to burrow into her more closely. Yelena tightened her own grip, stretching more of her arms to wrap around her as she reveled in the fact that Natasha had finally admitted it to her.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Yelena whispered finally, really not wanting to utter the words because of how worried she was about how she would sound to Natasha. However, she felt the words so strongly bubbling up that she could not quite keep them at bay.

  Natasha was still for a moment before suddenly shoving her face into her a little more strongly as she swallowed hard.

  “Thank you for letting me be here,” Natasha finally expressed, and Yelena felt as if her heart had been stabbed with how genuine, broken, and uncharacteristically small that Natasha sounded. Yelena tried to force some manner of joking in her voice as she shook her head.

  “Don’t be stupid. I am irresistible, so I naturally have to understand that you cannot stay away,” Yelena quipped, and Natasha chuckled somewhat wetly. Yelena held her closer, hoping that Natasha would never let her go. She just wanted to stay here forever or at least until Natasha felt okay again.

  She suddenly realized that she truly was more than a little silly for believing that Natasha did not want to be there with her. Natasha was right there with her now, and she had apparently come to see her just because she was having nightmares. It meant more than anything to Yelena that Natasha put that kind of trust within her to tell her such a weakness and that Natasha had wanted to come to her of all people.

  Yelena swallowed, trying to think of something to cheer Natasha up since it was delightfully her responsibility now to do so. She wanted to truly make Natasha happy and to cheer her up. She glanced over to the side from where she was holding her, and she quickly took in the sight of the TV set. She then remembered what Natasha had done for her shortly after Yelena had arrived at her place in Norway.

  “If you want… We could watch some movies while you’re here?” Yelena offered tentatively, and Natasha hesitantly pulled away to follow Yelena’s gaze as she spotted the decrepit TV set.

  She then looked at Yelena with a slight grin, her eyes a little red but not showing any real tears and Yelena could not help but wonder if Natasha had actually allowed herself to cry or not. Natasha was always working so hard to hide her emotions, and Yelena wished that Natasha would just let herself let go a little.

  “Got any James Bond?”

  “Ugh, no. My taste is way better than that.”

  “Is that Indiana Jones?” Natasha asked, squinting a little as she tried to catch sight of the movie titles underneath the television. Yelena just groaned deeply, very much unhappy that Natasha had managed to see that. Natasha chuckled, smirking in a manner that was far too self-satisfied.

  “Look, it was all they had at the nearest store, okay?” Yelena defended, and Natasha shrugged as she leaned back against the couch. However, Yelena noted how much nearer that Natasha was sitting than she was before, and Yelena felt her heart swelling with the closeness.

  “Hey, might as well watch it. I’ve never seen it, and you owe me a good movie after I introduced you to a classic,” Natasha somewhat smugly pointed out, and given how Natasha was trying so hard to be joking and casual, Yelena could not help but wonder if she was still putting on a bit of a mask. But Yelena was going to go along with it anyway and have mercy on her. Hopefully, Natasha would let her guard down after some time together.

  “You can’t be talking about Bond,” Yelena grumbled, begrudgingly getting up so that she could go and start putting on the movie. Natasha just grinned winningly, and when Yelena finally finished up putting the movie in and preparing the television, she headed back over to sit next to Natasha again.

  This time, she ensured that their shoulders brushed one another, and Natasha looked over at her just barely before they both focused on the television. The beginning previews started to come on, and Natasha raised her eyebrows as the television started to play something in Hungarian.

  “Oh, I forgot to mention… The movie is in Hungarian.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Better get unrusty on all those language skills that you supposedly have,” Yelena teased, and Natasha just chuckled in reply to her, and Yelena could not help but think that something she said must have been a little off when it said it. However, Natasha did not say anything about it, and she simply shrugged in reply to her.

  “Well, just adds to the challenge,” Natasha breezily replied, and Yelena was completely baffled as the older woman slowly and carefully reached her arm around Yelena’s shoulders. Yelena waited for a split second, trying to ensure Natasha would not pull away, and then she leaned into her side.

  Indeed, this was heaven, and Yelena could not be happier that her big sister came to see her here.

  Maybe she really did have her back for good.

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

Mirth's Ebenezer: Part 6

A/N: The love triangle becomes clearer plot thickens…

Warnings: Suspicion, betrayal, anxiety (general, not an attack or anything overwhelming), swearing, gun reference, bank robbery reference,

My Masterlist | Taglist Info | Mirth’s Ebenezer masterlist

Mirth loosed a breath, forcing the tightness from her chest. Superhero’s question was met with utter silence, as if a vacuum had sucked up any and all life inside the courtroom. She was certain there weren’t many within the Agency who had the motivation to betray them, but there were certainly many outside of their ranks who would see them all destroyed. But that fact didn’t help them now.

If it were possible, Agent’s eyes soured with increased misery. Their lips twitched as if they wished to say something but ultimately decided against it.

As Superhero’s question rippled over the courtroom and the minds of all of those packed into the pews and standing along the perimeter, Mirth cycled through a list of suspects.

She wasn’t ready to write off Agent. With no way to confirm the validity of their statement and the unofficial investigation they claimed the Internal Affairs Department had undertaken in secret, Mirth knew that Agent remained on all their lists.

Scouring her memory for a disgruntled hero, only one name came to mind: Sparrow.

Sparrow had achieved the rank of superhero rather quickly, and at a young age. They’d busted plenty of villains and even brought down Supervillain’s predecessor—which now that Mirth thought about it probably paved the way for them to become the master criminal they all knew today.

But several years ago, it was discovered that Sparrow had taken a cut of nearly every heist committed under their watch, and in return, they’d help the villains they arrested. The evidence against them was too great, and Sparrow was arrested. Aside from that, they never actually aided the criminals in their escape attempts as promised.

Mirth realized that Sparrow had just as many enemies amongst the villains as they had within the Agency for undermining other heroes and discrediting a few along their path to tarnished greatness.

But could Supervillain put that aside if Sparrow offered them the right information? What was the likelihood of Sparrow having any intel worth selling after so many years of imprisonment? Was their sentence even over yet? Mirth didn’t know. She hadn’t kept tabs on them after their betrayal. And if they were free, she doubted they could still gain access to sensitive information, so it had to be someone active within the Agency.

There was Civilian, the assistant director of the H.R. Department. Mirth had never liked them much. They were too…eager. Or maybe ambitious was a better word for the way they acted. They’d never said or done anything that made Mirth suspicious…but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something about them that didn’t quite make sense.

But then there was still Agent…

“Mirth,” Superhero said, breaking her from her thoughts, “you’ve got that look on your face. That frown that says, ‘I’m working the case.’”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s because I am.”

Agent wouldn’t have access to the schedules before they were sent out. In fact, Agent may not see them at all until the day of, when they’re posted. The only people who know the schedules beforehand would be H.R. and whichever heroes were confirmed and slated for duty that day. But those heroes wouldn’t know who else was on patrol until the schedule was posted either, which only left…

She sucked in a breath, arching her brow. Superhero watched her silently, letting the gears turn in her head.

“Has anyone considered Civilian?”

“That’s the one with the straight hair in H.R., right? The assistant?” Someone on the other side of the courtroom asked.

“Yeah,” another answered, “and always wants to be called Assistant Director.”

“They get under my skin,” someone else said from behind Mirth. “I vote them as most likely.”

A few murmurs of agreement rose in the courtroom. Judge Whitmire’s eyes crinkled. Mirth couldn’t tell if it was in humor or in annoyance at their total disregard for procedure.

“Being annoying isn’t cause for charging someone with treachery,” he said, drawing the room’s attention back to the front of the court. “But I will admit that Civilian is a decent suspect. I’ve had suspicions about their motivations in the past, though without the evidence or assumption of a crime, I dismissed it as simply ambition in a competitive environment.”

Agent sagged, wiping their brow with a handkerchief. “Our lead suspect was Civilian. We even entertained Other Agent, but it wasn’t likely no matter how far we stretched the facts. They may not be a competent Director, but I don’t think any one of us could say anything bad against them.”

“If we’re not narrowing our list of suspects, then what’s to stop us from adding the entire H.R. department?” Someone called from the back of the room.

“Oh please,” Superhero answered, turning around in their seat as if they could stare down whoever had spoken. “Like Carole would betray the Agency after all these years. She might be a hawk when it comes to procedure and office regulations and all that human resources bullshit, but,” they paused, licking their lips. “Carole’s been with the Agency for years, and has always, always done right by it. Without her, this whole place would be in shambles, especially in the wake of Head Agent’s retirement and the shaky Interim Director’s appointment.”

There was a beat of silence, and then a smooth voice echoed throughout the courtroom. “I’m glad to hear you think so, Superhero.”

Mirth’s whirled around in her seat, her eyes instantly drawn to the lone figure standing amongst crowd seated in the pews.

Carole continued, “While I’d hate to believe that Civilian is our main suspect, I can’t disagree. They’re the only other one involved in pre-making the schedules. Our scheduling system is designed this way to ensure limited exposure, so that something like what Baron claims can’t happen, and if it did—or has—there’s only so many suspects. No one but myself and Civilian would have these schedules in advance, except for the heroes scheduled and confirmed for specific days, but even they wouldn’t know who else is on patrol until the full schedule is posted.”

“Unless, they share their individual schedule with someone in passing,” Agent added quietly.

A general discontent settled over the courtroom. People squirmed in their seats. Some whispered quietly to their neighbors. Mirth caught Judge Whitmire’s eyes and swallowed thickly. He offered her a small nod, as if that could dispel the uneasiness writhing in her gut. Casting his attention back to the courtroom, Judge Whitmire cleared his throat.

“I’m sure there is no guilt in mentioning your schedule to your colleagues,” he said, “and I firmly doubt that any one, singular person within this Agency could gather and piece together enough whispers to create an accurate list of heroes scheduled for duty on any given day or night. I think, to avoid a witch hunt and cast more doubt about the integrity of this Agency, we should focus on our list of suspects.”

“I second that!” A familiar voice shouted immediately. “And it’s not just because we’re cutting it close to my reservations.”

Mirth couldn’t help herself, chuckling a little as several others also did so. Others voiced their agreement. A restless energy buzzed throughout the courtroom as more voices joined the assent.

“Then what do we do?” Agent asked, ignoring the hero who had an anniversary dinner to get to.

“What if…” Superhero started, trailing off as their brows pulled together in thought. “What if we place our suspects under watch for now, until we can gather more evidence.”

“And who would do it? You’ve already got babysitting duty, Supes.”

They laughed at that, shaking their head as a wide grin split their face. “Then I guess it’s gonna have to be you, Sidekick.”

“Splendid,” Judge Whitmire said. “Sidekick, you’ll shadow Agent here. Everette, you’ll watch Carole, and the rest of us…we’ll keep tabs on Civilian.”

Agent opened and closed their mouth once, twice, thrice.

Judge Whitmire raised his brows, turning to them. “Do you oppose to this?”

“Well, no, it’s just…” Agent started, wringing their hands together. “Sidekick and I, uh…”

“We’re dating,” Sidekick proclaimed a hint of amusement in their voice. A low ripple traversed the courtroom. A couple sharp intakes of breath could be heard, but Mirth felt like she had whiplash. Of all the people, in the whole of the city, and Sidekick’s dating Agent? And they’d both kept it a secret? Her eyes widened in shock, and in disbelief.

Judge Whitmire stilled, straightening as he turned rigid at the realization. His eyes turned murky with consideration; a sort of unpreparedness Mirth knew the methodical man wasn’t used to. “Well I suppose that won’t work.”

“Everette, you’ll take Agent and Sidekick,” Superhero said, standing from their seat and turning to face the spectators’ area. Mirth watched as they surveyed the crowd, searching for someone, undoubtedly the next best choice to watch Carole.

“Oh, so I’m a suspect now?” Sidekick interrupted indignantly.

“No, only associated with one,” Superhero said without skipping a beat. “Hero! You’ll watch Carole.”

“On it, boss!”

A loud clap made Mirth flinch. Judge Whitmire stood, his hands clasped in front of him and a delighted look on his face.

“Well now that that’s settled,” he said, stepping away from Agent and toward the witness stand where he’d draped his rope, “I hereby declare this meeting adj—”

“HALLELUJAH!” The hero-with-reservations-to-make whooped, followed by a general clamor. Mirth watched them with a grin as they vaulted over the person beside them and over the end of the pew. “I still have time to get cleaned up before dinner!”

Judge Whitmire shook his head. “Tell your wife ‘hello’ and ‘congratulations.’”

“Will do!” The hero said, rounding the corner of the courtroom doors and dashing down the hall.

Other heroes gathered their belongings and started to file out of the courtroom. Those with assigned guard duties found their charges and started a conversation or left with them. In the case of Agent and Sidekick, Everette just followed quietly behind the newly announced couple. Hero stood, chatting with Carole before they too, left the courtroom.

“And now.” Judge Whitmire’s voice sounded from beside her. Mirth stood at last, glancing between both her friend and the man who had granted her mercy. “Are you two ready to decide the particulars of Baron’s custody?”

Mirth shrugged. “I guess so. I can’t exactly go home until we do that.”

Judge Whitmire flashed her an empathetic smile. “Trust is very important, especially when rehabilitating a criminal. His record’s really not so bad, or else I wouldn’t have asked you.”

“He robbed a bank, at gunpoint.” Superhero crossed their arms over their chest, leaning against the table. “I wouldn’t exactly write that off as ‘not so bad.’”

“True,” Whitmire considered, “though he did give the kids lollipops before letting all of the hostages go without confrontation. I wouldn’t exactly call him the face of evil either.”

“Okay, so now that we’ve debated how troubled Baron is or isn’t, can we please get this over with so that in three years I can get my life back?”

Superhero snorted, failing to suppress their laughter. Judge Whitmire only smiled and gestured for them to follow him. Mirth clenched her hands. She opted to fold her arms over her chest, if only to help keep her irritation from falling past her lips in a long sigh or a barrage of choice words that probably weren’t undeserved for all the stress the good judge had put her through.

Holding the door to the antechamber open for them, Mirth glanced passed Judge Whitmire and into the adjacent room. Well-lit, the room was oddly warm given who it belonged to.

Not that she thought Judge Whitmire was cold just—well Mirth didn’t really know. He was fair and just, sure, but she couldn’t picture him outside of his judicial duties. Whoever he was outside of the courtroom was a lost myth to her.

A traditional red-oak desk sat squarely in the center of the room with several filing cabinets behind it on the back wall. Another door off to the side presumably led to the clerk’s office, though Mirth couldn’t be certain. Judge Whitmire draped his judge’s robe over the back of his stately desk chair and retrieved his briefcase.

“Shall we?” He looked toward the side door to his office.

Mirth’s lips twisted. He was enjoying this, wasn’t he?

“Let’s get this over with,” Superhero sighed.

Judge Whitmire excused himself and brushed passed them, knocking on the door.

“Come in!” Clerk’s muffled voice came from the other side. As Judge Whitmire strolled through the door, Clerk huffed. “About time. Baron and I were about to take off and grab a bite to eat.”

Judge Whitmire chuckled. “I will leave you two in Clerk’s capable hands. I trust most of the arrangements have already been made?”

“Obviously,” Clerk said, nodding.

Mirth swallowed, not really certain about what the extent of these arrangements would be. She hoped they didn’t have to live together for the next three years. It was why she still lived alone: she needed her space. Dealing with people all day and the media and just the odd hours of her job, she needed a place where it was only herself.

“Good,” Whitmire said, “then I’ll be off.”

“See you around, Judge,” Baron said, waving from where he sat casually in the chair opposite of Clerk’s desk despite the pair of Fairmax County Prison guards flanking his seat. Mirth noticed a third chair had been brought in from somewhere else, as it didn’t match the other two chairs set up before Clerk’s desk.

“We’ll be taking our leave now too,” one of the guards said, passing the key to Baron’s handcuffs and the monitor for his power suppressing ankle cuff to Superhero.

Mirth hardly offered a farewell, too fixated on the fate lying before her. Why had she agreed to this? To stay in Whitmire’s good graces? To spite herself? She couldn’t say. Maybe it was those damn cupcakes and the pitiful look Baron had when he’d come to apologize for the bank robbery.

That was it. It was that damn look, the shining honesty and pleading in his eyes when he’d come to her door, unmasked and metaphorically beaten.

“Great, now that it’s just the four of us, here’s the deal: I’ve arranged a safe house for the duration of Baron’s house arrest. A budget has been set and funds acquired for the maintenance of the house as well as expenses for Baron like groceries and such—”

“Okay, I know I’m a villain, but you’re making it seem like they’re fostering a dog,” he said.

“Might as well be,” Superhero sighed, taking a seat. “You’ll need constant supervision so you don’t go tinkering with things you shouldn’t.”

“I don’t ‘tinker,’” Baron nearly spat, “I invent things.”

“Exactly. That’s the last thing you should be doing during your house arrest,” Superhero countered. “You’re supposed to be proving you can be an average civilian, not a mad scientist.”

“I’ll have you kno—”

“Can we please just get through this so I can go home?”

Both Baron and Superhero turned to her. Superhero glanced away, their jaw twitching. But Baron held her gaze and offered a slow smile.

“I never got the chance to congratulate you on your trial,” he said simply. “I never expected anything different.”

“I’m so glad everyone but me had confidence in that,” she huffed, sinking down into the empty chair between her two forced companions. “Clerk, please, please, please tell me we don’t have to live with each other consistently for the next three years.”

Clerked giggled. “Well you could do it that way, but no. However you and Superhero want to work it out is fine with us, just as long as someone is with Baron at all times until such a time as Judge Whitmire deems he no longer needs supervision during his house arrest.”

Mirth glanced toward the ceiling, sighing in relief. “That’s the second-best news I’ve had all day.”

“I promise to be on my best behavior,” Baron assured her. “Honestly, I’m really not that bad.”

Superhero scoffed. “You robbed a bank last month.”

“And you sponsored my Rogue Clause,” Baron shot back. “Admit it, I’m not that bad.”

Superhero crossed their arms. “What I think doesn’t matter.”

“If this is what I have to look forward to for the next three years, I’m killing you both now and starting my life of crime.”

Clerk laughed. “There won’t be any need for that. You can take the night, Mirth. Hell, you can take the week. I’m sure Superhero wouldn’t disagree.”

Mirth arched her brow. But before she could say anything, Clerk carried on. “Like I said, whatever you two work out for the schedule, the court’s only requirements are that Baron is not to be left to his own devices—no pun intended—and that he completes his community service. Aside from that, everything’s pretty much taken of: safe house, budget, power suppressing ankle monitor, and sponsors.”

Clerk closed the manilla file on their desk, and offered it to Mirth. “Everything you need is in this file, and the keys,” they said, opening their desk drawer and pulling a set out and giving those to her as well, “are right here. Any questions?”

Mirth shook her head. Superhero remained silent.

“Just one, and it’s really not for you, dear, Clerk,” Baron started, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Can we get ice cream on our way?”

Mirth sagged against the back of her seat. It was going to be a long three years.

Taglist: @feline17ff, @selene-stories

Part 7

[fullbushfemme]

Meeting the Mayans

word count: 1,804

summary: You thought you were prepared for anything. Growing up with four brothers, you had been bitten, beaten, thrown out of trees, concussed, stabbed, practically any violent act you could possibly think of, you had endured. For a kindergarten teacher, you were tough. You had the scars to prove it. That was, of course, until the day you met the Mayans.

unnamed mayan x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of blood, hostage situation, and a shooting.

author's note: I've had this idea in my head for ages now and I'm tempted to make it a series. The only issue is that I can't decide which Mayan I want to star (since they aren't named in this fic). I'm tempted to use this as a jumping off point for multiple fics, writing different stories from this initial incident involving different Mayans, but I'd love to hear any thoughts y'all might have :)

-I also haven't written anything outside of academic works in years so go easy on me <3

Santo Padre Septembers were always your favorite. It was sticky and hot, enough to make anyone want to jump into a pool fully clothed, but school was back in session, which meant you got to meet a new hoard of bright-eyed, eager five year olds. You had spent the last month preparing your classroom for their arrival. Nine am to one pm every day for four weeks was dedicated to decorating your classroom, making name cards, making sure every student had all the supplies they needed. Inside every desk you placed glue and markers and pencils and workbooks and scissors...everything a little kid would need to express themselves. And all of it out of your own pocket. You took it upon yourself to spoil these kids rotten.

Two weeks into class, you already knew everyone’s names, their favorite color, their pets, and whether or not they were allowed to watch TV after six o’clock. You knew who was friends with who, who couldn’t eat peanut butter, and who was most popular. This year’s class was going to be great, you just knew it.

It was a humid Friday afternoon. The room smelled like Elmer’s glue and pencil shavings, with stray scraps of construction paper strewn about the floor after the kids decided this week’s art project was going to be making dinosaurs out of construction paper and glitter. You were staying after class to clean up and vacuum, and to take the class rabbit home with you since no one had signed up to care for him this week, when you heard a knock at your door.

You looked over to the open door, squinting into the sun, trying to make out who it was. But no one was standing in the doorway. “Forget something?” you called out, thinking that a student must’ve left a lunch box or notebook and was feeling shy.

“Not exactly,” a deep voice responded, sending a twinge of fear through your body. You knew that voice. “I was hoping my baby sister could help me with something.”

A lump had formed in your throat that you tried to swallow, to no avail. “What are you doing here?” you choked out, standing from where you were picking up paper scraps.

“I need you to help me hide. Quickly.” Your older brother stepped into the classroom, gun in hand, pupils wider than you had ever seen them. He must’ve been high, you thought, panicked. What had he gotten into now? All four of your brothers were known to be trouble-makers to varying degrees. A few had been to prison for petty crimes, but the brother that stood before you had gotten wrapped up in drug trafficking years ago. He scared you the most. They had all promised your parents that they would keep their lives separate from yours, that they would never put you in harm's way. But it didn’t last. It felt like every other week you had a bruised or beaten brother on your doorstep, begging for help or a place to stay. And today, it was to ask you to hide them.

Your eyes flitted to the large windows overlooking the grassy courtyard where a few children sat waiting for their parents to pick them up. Hide. Hide from what? Who was coming after him? Would they hurt the kids?

“N-no,” you stammered, taking a step backwards. You couldn’t risk putting any kids still on campus in danger. “You can’t hide here. You have to go. You have to go right now.” You could feel a pit in your stomach begin to form as your brother took slow, long strides toward you.

“No?” he spat, completely dumbfounded by your refusal to help him. You had never turned him down before. He was family. You never said no to family.

You swallowed hard before repeating yourself. “No,” you responded, with more conviction this time, although you knew he could see right through you.

You took another step back, but ran up against your desk. Your phone was in the top drawer. Could you reach it fast enough? If you even could, who would you call? The police? That was a good way to get murdered and leave a teacher-shaped stain on the floor for the kids to come back to on Monday. Gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles turned white, your brother broke the ominous silence before you could.

“I’m not asking you again, hun,” he spat, now so close you could smell him.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your eyes welling up. “The kids…”

He furrowed his brow for a moment, shocked at the idea that you could actually turn your own flesh and blood away. You had always helped him, no matter how many times your parents told you not to, no matter how many times your life was put in danger. He couldn’t grasp the idea that you would put your foot down when it came to endangering other people, when it came to endangering your kids.

“They’ll kill you, you know,” he seethed, looking back over his shoulder towards the open door. There was a low rumbling growing louder and louder, but that wasn’t to whom he was referring. He was talking about your other brothers. “I told them I’d go to my baby sister, that she’d help me. She always helps me. Why would she flip on me now? Why wouldn’t she help family?” His grip tightened around his handgun as he leaned in to threaten you. “If anything happens to me, they’ll know to come to you first. They’ll know you couldn’t protect your own family.” His breath was hot against your neck. “Now,” he sighed, “Help me hide. And tell them you haven’t seen me in months.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” a man shouted from outside, causing your brother to grab hold of your arm. Those tears you had been holding back finally fell down your cheeks as your brother pulled you in front of him, placing you between the stranger and your brother. You could barely make out any details of the man from outside because of the blinding sun, but you could tell he had a gun. And that gun was much bigger than your brother’s. As the man moved into your classroom, at least five more men appeared and followed him in, all with guns pointed at your brother.

At this point, you were frozen. The lives your parents had so desperately tried to keep apart were crashing together, their worst nightmare coming true. The two of you were stuck, with only one way out. And he knew it. He gripped your arm tighter, making sure your body could be used as an effective human shield. The barrel of his gun was shoved into your ribcage, his face buried into the back of your hair.

“See what you’ve done?” he seethed. You looked at all of the men placed around the room. Leather-clad men on top of a backdrop of crudely painted rainbows and dogs. You hadn’t brought these men here. You didn’t anger a group of gun-toting men. And yet somehow, this was your fault.

“We’re only here for you, kid,” a low, rough voice called out, a different one than before.

But he wouldn’t let them take only him. He was bringing you down with him. He was willing to sacrifice his own family to keep from going down alone.

The seconds ticking by felt like hours. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, desperately trying to break free. But you could do nothing besides stand still. All you could do is hope and pray that these men that had followed your brother here had enough decency not to kill a kindergarten teacher caught in the crossfire. But your brother refused to give them that opportunity.

“If I go,” he yelled, raising his gun to your temple, “she goes too.”

These words would haunt your every thought for the rest of your life. But in that moment, all you could think about was the weapon pressed against your skin. Your brother wasn’t just willing to bring you down with him, he was willing to kill you himself. And the thought of it made you sick. It made you want to curl up into a ball and scream on the top of your lungs. You opened your mouth to cry out, but your brother hit you across the head with the butt of his gun before you could.

The men opposing your brother yelled, harsh words were exchanged, but all you could hear was a ringing in your ears. Tensions rose. Guns were raised. Blood dripped down your face and mixed with your tears. Your senses were betraying you, one by one, blending every sensation into one incomprehensible nightmare.

And then, a single gunshot rang out, making you acutely aware of the severity of the situation once more.

A scream escaped your chest as you fell to your knees, free from your brother’s death grip. You brought your hands up to your ears and squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would all be over.

But it wasn’t over. It wouldn’t end. No matter how hard you prayed, you were still on the floor of your kindergarten classroom. Your brother was still prepared to kill you if he felt threatened. Someone was shot...someone was shot but you couldn’t bear to look. You wanted to look, you had to look, to see if it was your brother that was shot. But before you could muster the courage to open your eyes, two arms wrapped around you and pulled you into an embrace. It couldn’t have been your brother, it was much too gentle. But if it wasn’t him, then who?

It took a moment to open your eyes, but when you did, you looked up to see who was holding you. His face was kind, with dark brown eyes filled with worry as he looked down at you. He opened his mouth to say something to you, and he probably did, but you couldn’t hear him over the pounding in your head. He was a stranger to you, and yet he clung to you to keep you from seeing the mess behind you. Like he truly cared for your wellbeing. He pulled you in closer to him, placing his chin on top of your head the way your father did when you were young. It felt...safe. And all you wanted to do was collapse into him and allow yourself to feel safe. You let your head fall into his chest. You let your head fall into this stranger’s chest. And just as you did, two white patches on his left breast caught your eye. Two patches that read: Mayans, Santo Padre.

[libraryofloveletters]

Heir To The Throne

Chapter 3: Blood Soaked Roses

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

Mafia AU

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

Warnings: mentions of loss of sibling, tiniest mention of jeid (i’m sorry I had too), sibling teasing, alcohol and the consumption of, crying, swearing, lots of emotions, mentions of blood and injuries, choking (not the sexy kind), violence, threats, mentions of death and death wish, mentions of hotchniss, kissing, guns and the use of. 

Word Count: 4.4k

Author’s Note: surprise motherfucker, there you go :) also what y/n says to them is not a reflection of my feelings towards the characters. I was just in a pissy mood when wrote it LMAO

Masterlist // Chapter 2 // Chapter 4

----

The smell lingering through your bedroom, the balcony doors were open with the curtains drawn. The sun shined into your room, the light hit a vase of red roses sat on the table beside your mirror, the reflection of the glass caught your eye. Rolling out of bed, you smell the roses, literally. Every year like clockwork, you’ve received a bunch of red roses, assuming they were from your father or your brother, you went along with your day. After James passed, you assumed they were from your father but they never seemed to have a note attached to them. This year was different, there was a little white paper slipped into the corner of the vase. Pulling it out, it read: 

“Happy birthday my darling, 

Love always.” 

There was no name, no signature, just some smudged ink on the paper and the birthday wish. There was no way of knowing who it was from. You stepped onto the balcony, the warm sun beating down onto your skin as the mist from the water below blew with the breeze. Your mind wandered back to the conversation you had Matt the night before. 

“y/n.. we can’t do this anymore”

“What ? What are you talking about?”

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

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

No explanation, no communication, no nothing. 

Radio silence and it was driving you fucking crazy. 

Looking back at the roses sitting on the table, Matt was the only thing on your mind. Maybe this was his way of saying that he wanted to make up without actually saying it. Before you could leave to find Matt, there was a knock on your door. “Come in!” you shouted, your father walked in. 

“There she is!” he walked over, his hands grabbing your face. 

“Good morning to you too pops” you smiled at him, he kissed your cheek and pulled you into a hug. 

“Happy birthday Bella” 

“Thank you” 

“Have you picked something to wear for tonight ? Penelope was telling me that you hadn't found anything yet” 

“Oh I did but you have to wait until tonight to see it” 

He nodded, he explained that he’d be in meetings for the majority of the day but if you needed anything that you could let Derek or Aaron know. You told him that you rather die than talk to them on your own free will. Your father left you in the room, you sat down on the bed. Once again, your mind wanders back to Matt, it then drifts over to your brother. The memory of your last birthday with him flooding in. 

“Wake up you troll” James shouted as he sat on your bed and pulled the blanket off of you. “Shhh, I'm still sleeping” you roll over which made him smile. 

“I’m taking you on a trip.” he leans back against the headboard. The promise of a trip made you sit up. Your eyes flickering over to the vase filled with red roses on your bedside table.

“Where are we going ?” you ask the guy sitting beside you, you leaned over to smell the flowers.

“Paris, ma soeur” James smiled at you, the mention of Paris made your face light up. James would go to the ends of the death and back for you. Your happiness came before everything else to him. 

“Are you serious ?” you look over at him, he nods. 

“I know you’ve always wanted to go and I rather be the one that takes you than some stupid boy” his comment made you roll your eyes. James wasn't the biggest fan of you dating. You pulled him into a hug anyways, “Thank you J, this is going to be the best trip” 

“You’re welcome munchkin, happy 16th” he kissed the top of your head.

Spencer walked into your bedroom, a cupcake with a candle sticking out of it. “Oh yeah, come on in. It’s a free for all in here today” you rolled your eyes, Spencer laughs. “Don’t make me smash this cupcake on your face” he sat beside you on the bed, he pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the candle. 

“Happy birthday y/n” he held the cupcake in front of you, waiting for you to blow the candle out. One big breath and the little flame was out, he handed the cupcake to you. “Thank you Spence,” “anything for you, you know that” he smiled at you. Getting up off the bed, Spencer walked to the balcony. 

“Why is it that your room has the best view?” he questioned

“Why is it that you’re always complaining?” you rebutted 

“Who are the roses from ?” he pried again 

“I don't know, there’s a note but no name” 

Spencer walked over and pulled the note out of the roses, reading it out loud. “That sounds like something your dad would say” he tucked the note back into the flowers. “That’s what I thought too but he came to see me and he seemed surprised to see the flowers too” 

“Looks like you have a secret admirer” 

“As if” you groan, laying back onto the bed. “You bringing a date tonight ?” 

Spencer looked at you like you were crazy, “who would I even bring ?” 

“JJ” you laughed, Spencer gagged. “Been there, done that and I won't be going back. I’m offended you even suggested that.” 

“Oh Spence, don't you love her ?” you teased him, getting up off the bed. Spencer gave you a shove, “y/n shut up, I'll literally push you off the balcony.” his comment made you laugh. “Okay get out now, I have to get ready” 

“It’s only 2 o'clock, the party's not ‘till 6″ 

“You can’t rush perfection” 

“And somehow you’re still ugly” 

You gasp, pushing Spencer towards the door and out of the room. You shut the door and your back is up against it, your eyes drifting back to the flowers. 

--

The bottom of your dress dragged along the marble stairs as you walked down. The party was well under way and you, were as usual, fashionably late. Pushing the large doors open, everyone was around the room, and as usual, they were waiting on you to arrive. 

“Bella!” your father called out to you, making his way over to you with a blonde woman by his side.

“Hey” you smile at him

“You remember Krystall, right ?” She gives you a smile and you muster up the realest smile you could, “of course I do, nice to see you again. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go say hi to everyone else”

Leaving the two of them by the door, you make your way around the room, saying hello to everyone as you go. Matt stood by the bar with Luke and Penelope, you made your way over to them. 

“Y/n! You look gorgeous!” Penelope squeals as she gives you a hug, she always makes you smile. “Says you! you look stunning!” you stood beside her, “and Luke, you clean up nicely. It’s nice to see you in something other than jeans” you joke, Luke rolled his eyes.

“Don’t push it y/n” 

“Whatever grumpy” 

There's a hand on your lower back, you look back to see Matt behind you. “Happy birthday” he said to you, he stepped towards you but hesitated before giving you a hug. “Thank you” you smile, you’d be lying if you said it didn't feel good to be back in his arms. It was weird, Matt acting like he hadn't just ended things the night before. You were determined to have a good time so you pushed the feelings aside in hopes of getting drunk enough that you wouldn't remember. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks, letting go of you. 

“Yeah, thanks” 

Your back is up against the bar as Matt goes to get you a drink. You can see JJ making her way over to Spencer who was standing with Tara. 

Should you be a good cousin and rescue him or do you leave him for being an ass earlier ? 

“Spencer! Come do shots with me!” you shout from across the room, Spencer looks towards you, your eyes on JJ and not him, he looks over his shoulder to see her a few feet behind him. He and Tara excuse themselves from the conversation they were having and walk over to the bar. 

Second one it is then. 

“Thought I should save you from your girlfriend” 

“Not my girlfriend but thank you” 

JJ was giving you a dirty look from across the room, she stood with Emily who was also giving you a dirty look. The fact that they hate you so much brings you a lot of pleasure. You blow them a kiss and give them a smile, they both roll their eyes and turn away from you. 

“Did you see your dad with Krystall ?” Tara asks, taking a sip of her drink. Your father was dancing with Krystall. The song that was playing was a song that he shouldn't have been dancing to, not with her at least. It was your parents’ wedding song, something you had only ever seen the two of them dance too. Any event whenever that song came on, it was the two of them on the floor dancing the night away. After she passed, you danced with him, not anyone else. Especially not some woman he just started seeing. He’s his own person but he’s also your father, there's no way you were going to let this slide. 

“Here you go” Matt comes back with a glass, “maybe you should get the bottle” you look at him, he knew you well enough to sense when something was wrong. He did as he was told and headed off to get the bottle of you. 

-- 

Half way through the night, the room started to feel stuffy and heated with far too many people in there. Truthfully, you weren’t much for birthdays, not after James passed. Every year since has just been you and Spencer going on a trip or for dinner but never a big party like this. Your father was just trying to make up for the fact that he missed your 21st by throwing this party. Not you didn't appreciate the efforts, because you did but you didn’t want to be there anymore. 

It was a little after midnight, you had lost your heels somewhere along the way to the garden. You tiptoed across the stones, stumbling as you went along. Managing to make your way to the bench, you sat down, the bottle resting beside you on the ground.

The sound of footsteps caused you to turn. “What do you want ?” you shout into the darkness, not sure as too who's behind you. “Dave’s looking for you” Derek stepped forward, coming into view. At this current moment, you didn't know whether to tell him to leave or just return with him. The world felt like it was spinning backwards and upside down simultaneously.  You laid back against the bench, the cold stone hitting your bare back caused you to shift slightly, the moonlight shined down onto the roses in the garden, Derek stood a few feet away from you, watching you as you laid there. 

Part of you wanted to tell him to leave, to yell at him for causing your brother’s death, for not protecting him. The other part of you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, you knew Derek had always been there for you, even when you didn't need him to be. He ever so happened to conveniently there when needed. Sitting up, you looked over at him, looking the tall man up and down. Black suit jacket to match his pants with a white shirt but there was no tie to accompany the shirt, just the first 3 buttons undone. He was different from Aaron in a way you couldn't explain. Derek had this naturally strong aura, one you didn't see him push forward like Aaron, who always made it look like he needed to prove that he was alpha male. Derek had a gentle side to him, he could be harsh on you but not in the same way he was with everyone else. His watch sat on his right wrist, something you noticed as you were glancing down at his hand. There were smudges of ink on his side of hand like he had written something and it smudged against his skin. Your mind flickered back to the note in your roses the morning before. 

“It was you” 

“Excuse me ?”

“You left the roses in my room.” 

Derek gave you a small smile, carefully stepping towards you. “Yes, it was. What gave it away ?” he sat beside you, looking over at you. Glancing down at his hand that was resting on his lap, you reached out and held it. Your finger rubbed across the smudged ink on the side of his large hand, neither of you said anything, you just sat there holding his hand. 

You broke the silence first, your voice wavered for a moment as you felt the tears well up, “He- he used to leave me roses red ones just like those” avoiding Derek’s looks, your eyes fixated on his hand, your finger continuing to rub against the ink smudge. “I know” he whispered, his free hand coming up to your chin, tilting your face up towards him. The tears threaten to spill, suddenly your body felt cold, the words physically hurt to say. 

“I miss him.” 

“I know” 

The tears fell onto your face, you tried your best to hold it together but you couldn't anymore. You always missed your brother but never had you actually said it out loud to anyone, not even to James when you visit his grave. Derek held you close to him, letting you cry on his shoulder, literally. Was Derek the person you expected to spill your emotions too ? No, he never was but he was here, he didn't make you feel like it was wrong or that it was a burden, he just let you cry, and yell and hit him until you felt that you let it out.  Within the span of a few minutes, you cried until you couldn't anymore, your chest heaving and your hand on your leg as you hunched over. Derek’s hand rested on your back, “do you want to go up to bed ? y/n, let me take you up to bed” the back of your hand pressed to your face, wiping away the tears. Surely there was makeup smudged across your face but right now you didn't care.  

The sadness left but the anger set in. Picking up the bottle from beside the bench, you took a rather large swing. The liquor burned on the way down but you didn’t care, bunching up your dress in one hand and the bottle in the other, Derek stood up as you marched off towards the villa. 

“Y/n! Don’t!” he shouted as he chased after you. He had seen you grow from a teenager to the woman you were today, the next leader of the mafia. Although the two of you weren't close, he knew you well enough to know when you were upset, and you weren't just upset, you were furious. 

Storming into the villa, you walked through the large brown doors. Everyone was laughing, having the time of their lives. Most of the strangers your father had invited left, it was just “family” now. The bottle fell from your hand, it hit the floor and shattered into a million tiny pieces, the liquor from the bottle spilling across the tiles, pooling near your bare feet. The room went silent, all eyes were on you now. 

Walking through the broken glass, your body felt numb to pain, all you felt was anger. You had lost the one person that cared about you and you couldn't move on, you thought you had finally moved on with Matt but he too, had left you. The blood from your feet dragged and smudged across the white marble tiles as you walked to the middle of the room. 

“All of you,” you scoffed, “you say you’re my family but none of you, not even you,” pointing towards your father, “truly care about me” 

“Bella what are yo-” your father spoke but you cut him off. 

“You've been pushing the idea of your children running this place since - for as long as I could remember. You forced it onto James but he never wanted it. He just wanted a life of happiness and freedom, and you took that from him!” you shouted at your father, his expression softened as you walked towards him. “You forced it into him and when he died, you forced it onto me. If you hadn't fucking done that then maybe James would still be here! I won't let you take my life from me. I rather die than let you do what you did to James, to me.” 

Krystall clung to Dave’s arm, she looked scared but pleased at the same time. “What are you smiling about bitch ? Think you can get rid of me so easily ? Take my father away from me? Yeah I might fucking hate his guts, but we’re blood. You’ll never replace me or my mother. She was the real queen around here, and you-” laughing, you shook your head, “you’re nothing but the skank of the month.” 

Turning to Spencer who stood beside Tara with Penelope and Luke, you shook your head. “I called you guys my friends, you knew about my father’s secret little whore and not one of you ever told me a thing.” Luke reached for your arm, you pushed him off of you. “Don’t fucking touch me! I’m not one of your little bitches, don't try and handle me.”

You paced the room for a moment, no one dared tell you to calm down or stop. Emily and JJ stood beside Aaron, whispering to each other. “What the fuck is wrong with the two of you? The two of you ungrateful bitches live in my fucking house and you do nothing but talk shit and you’re not even useful. Shut the fuck before I break your jaws.” you spat, your words laced with venom. Both of them stood there, looking at you like you were speaking a foreign language. 

Matt walked back into the room, you shifted your attention back onto him. “And you!” you walked over, your feet dragged across the floor and through the glass once more, “Y/n, you’re bleeding, are you okay ?” 

“Am I okay ? Yeah Matt, I’m fucking fantastic. You just up and leave, no explaination other than the fact that you “can’t do this” whatever the fuck that means.” you roll you eyes “You’re a fucking piece of shit, do you know that ? I opened up to you, about something I never talked about because I thought I could trust you. Oh how I was wrong, your bitch ass just upped and left, just like everyone else.” 

“All of you are nothing but a bunch of blood sucking, ass kissing, ungrateful bitches!” you screamed, Aaron made his way over to you, picking you up and tossed you over his shoulder. “Put me down! you bitch!” you kicked and screamed, hitting his back as he walked out of the room. Derek stood by the door, he watched as Aaron carried you up the stairs. Aaron walked into your room and kicked the door shut, he dropped you down onto your bed. Landing with a groan, Aaron looked over at you.

“What the fuck was that ?!” he shouted, he was practically in your face although he was across the room 

“Awh what’s wrong baby? Mad I yelled at your bitch ? Oh sorry,” you teased him with a giggle, “your girlfriend ?” you stood up, you walked over to the balcony, Aaron watched you from his spot. You looked back over at him, your eyes on the white rug where you previously stood, the little drops of red blood staining the pure white fur that sat on the floor. Aaron watched you, watching him. 

Slowly making his way over, he stood in front of you. The two of you looking at each other dead in the eyes, his hand raises. Aaron’s hand rested on your chest, your eyes flicker down to the man’s hand and then back up to his face. A few moments after, you feel his hand wrap around your neck. Aaron pushes you up against the railing of the balcony, his body pressed up against yours as your back arched over the cold metal railing. One hand clung onto Aaron’s and the other laid useless by your side. 

“You ever talk to her that way again,” Aaron spat, your back was off the railing down, your toes barely touching the cold concrete of the balcony. The only thing holding you in place was Aaron’s hand, “and I'll kill you.” he finished his sentence. Aaron wouldn't drop you, he didn't dare. He didn't have the guts, you called his bluff. 

“Drop me Aaron.” you looked at him, your hand dropping from his. 

“What ?” he stared into your eyes, your face blank, no expression or fear. 

You didn't fear death, it was inevitable, we were all going to die one day. 

“Drop me Aaron, kill me if you want to. Be a man and live up to your words.” a wicked smile on your face, looking up at him, he pulled you back up from the railing. Your waist pressed up against the railing and Aaron’s body still pressed up against yours. Aaron let go of your throat, there were a few light bruises by the side of your neck in the shape of fingerprints. Aaron didn't know what to do, to say he was sorry or to leave. 

Aaron left you standing on the balcony, he walked out of your room. He ran down the stairs as fast as he could. Turning the hallway, he bumped into someone. 

Emily. 

“There you are, is she gone ?” she rolled her eyes at the thought of you. Aaron cleared his throat, his mind flickering back to the moment he just had in your room. 

“Yeah, she’s sleeping.” he said quietly, his girlfriend linked arms with him. “How about we head to bed then ?” she walked down the hallway with Aaron, pushing the door to their room open.

 Aaron followed her reluctantly, she stood in front of him. He unzipped her dress and she sauntered off the bathroom. The couple got ready for bed in silence, neither of them speaking a word to the other. Getting into bed quietly, Emily leaned over to kiss him and reluctantly, he kissed her back. Their relationship felt more like a routine rather than a relationship. 

Emily returned to her side of the bed, Aaron laid there quietly, his mind wandering all over. Not surprising, his mind wandered back to you. He’d be lying if he said he didn't think about you often, you seemed to live in his head rent free. Aaron’s mind wandered back to the moment he had with you in your bedroom. The expression on your face was unreal, you didn't tense up or cry, you were fearless. You weren't scared of him or death, you were ready to go, it was like you had come to peace with death and there was nothing scarier than that. 

A woman with no fears is a woman that should be feared. 

Aaron can’t help but think about that moment, everything comes back to that moment. The way you looked at him, the way you let go of his hand, your words to the way his body felt pressed up against yours. Aaron thought back to his conversation with Derek in the armoury. Derek looked so hurt that you didn't like him, then again, you didn’t like anyone that was too “in your business” as you would say. The thought of you brought a smile to his face. 

Holy shit, did he like you ? There was no way. 

“Oh fuck” he whispered, Emily hummed. Aaron glanced over at the woman beside him, he loved Emily but she doesn’t make him feel the way you did. There was no excitement between them, it was routine, a front they put on for everyone. His mind was always on you, what you were doing, who you were doing, what you were wearing, how you looked. 

Aaron liked you. 

Just as he was coming to terms with the fact that he’s in love with the boss's daughter, a noise rang through the villa. 

Bang. 

The sound of a single gunshot and shattering glass. Aaron sat up in bed, he looked out the window, there was no one outside. The sound of multiple gunshots rang through the villa and an earth shattering scream. 

It was you and you were screaming for him. 

For Aaron. 

--- 

Ahhh finally chapter 3! What do we think? lil bit of a cliff hanger there :) 

Taglist: @ssahoodrathotchner @mac99martin​ @aaron-hotchner187​ @tclaerh​ @luke-alvez​ @iconicc​ @lieberhers​ @pumpkin-reads​ @katexrichardson​ @sluttytears​ @thelukealvez​ @scandinavian-punk​ @laurenxreynolds​ @morcias​ @shotarosleftpinky​ @mrs-dr-reid​ @hqtchner​ @averyhotchner​ @willlemonheadsupremacy​ @mggsprettygirl​ @simxican​ @sunshinepower17​ @emilysbau @obsssedwithjustaboutanything​ @lexieshuntingsstuff​ @archiveofadragon

[bau-baby]

the ultimate loss. 1/?

aaron hotchner x gn!reader

Summary: Haley was your friend, and you’re dealing with her loss, just as Aaron was. When the grief subsides, what happens to you and Aaron?

Word count: 1,880

warnings: grief, loss

(A/N): Because it took so long for me to finish this, I decided to end my suffering of trying to figure out where to take the storyline within this fic and get to work on a part 2. Sorry for the wait!!

W.S. Gilbert wrote, “It’s love that makes the world go ‘round.” And if that’s true, then the world spun a little faster with Haley in it. 

You remember the first time you saw the Hotchner family unit in their own element. It was definitely a sight for sore eyes. The total admiration and love Haley and Aaron had both for each other as well as their son, Jack, was unmatched. You were out in their backyard, sitting and watching Jack run around while chatting amongst yourselves, hearing old stories from before your time at the BAU. Your friendship with Haley only grew from there.

Haley was my best friend since we were in high school. We certainly had our struggles, but if there’s one thing we agreed upon unconditionally, it was our love and commitment to our son, Jack.

You were there for them through all the hell that led up to the divorce. You watched as Haley tore herself up for thinking of leaving and saw how Aaron buried himself in his work to distract him from the problem. You knew that Haley loved Aaron and that Aaron loved Haley all the same. It was just a matter of the time the job took away from them, and ultimately what was best for Jack.

Haley’s love for Jack was joyous and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn’t here today. 

After the divorce, you tried to visit Haley often, filling her in on how the team and Aaron specifically were doing. You’d help out with Jack, and he ended up adoring you and your visits. Haley grew to you quickly as well. Sure, you were friends before, but your caring nature made you two become much better friends outside of the connection you’d had with her being the boss’ ex-wife.

A mother’s love is an unrivaled force of nature, and we all can learn much from the way Haley lived her life. 

The fear in her eyes when you went in with SWAT to get Haley and Jack was something you’d never seen from her before. She was one of the strongest mothers you knew. She did everything to make sure her son was happy. When she got to the hospital, you saw how she talked with Aaron. You saw the twenty-year-old smile lines shine through to their faces, and you realized that you had missed their lifetime of being together. Sure, you had the hilarious retellings of high school and college-age Aaron, but you think they lived through a whole other world before you showed up. 

Haley’s death causes each of us to stop and take stock of our lives to measure who we are, and what we’ve become. I don’t have all those answers for myself, but I know who Haley was. She was the woman who died protecting the child we brought into this world together, and I will make sure that Jack grows up knowing who his mother was and how she loved and protected him and how much I loved her.

You never realized how close not only you and Haley were, but how close you and Aaron were until after Haley and Jack were put into WITSEC. You and Aaron kept each other sane while they were gone, and you both worked just as hard on finding George Foyet. You’d spend late nights at Aaron’s apartment pouring over the details of the case, hoping something will jump out of the files and tell you where he’s hiding out and what he’s planning, but to no avail.

If Haley were with us today, she would ask us not to mourn her death, but to celebrate her life. She would tell us… she would tell us to love our families unconditionally and to hold them close ‘cause in the end, they are all that matter.

You were in an SUV by yourself, racing against the clock to get to Haley and Jack as you listened in on the call before you. You could hear the strain in Aaron’s voice, the way he had to keep everything at bay to keep a somewhat strong front. You heard Haley as she cried, making Aaron promise to tell Jack about how she and Aaron loved one another and loved him, and to tell Jack of times when Aaron wasn’t so serious. You made your own promise then, a promise to keep Haley’s memory alive in Jack, and to make sure both Aaron and Jack are taken care of. 

When the three shots rang out, you put your foot to the floorboard and sped to Fairfax. You knew Aaron was doing the same thing. You had to make sure that he and Jack made it out of this alive, and had to put Foyet away for all the pain and suffering he caused. 

I met Haley at the tryouts of our high school’s production of The Pirates of the Penzance. I found our copy of the play and I was looking through it the other night, and I came upon a passage that seemed… appropriate for this moment. “Oh dry the glistening tear that dews that martial cheek. Thy loving children here in them thy comfort seek. With sympathetic care, their arms around thee creep. For oh they cannot bear to see their father weep.”

You see the car Hotch used in front of his old family home, and you dash inside the house, brandishing your gun as you checked the house. That’s when you hear the sound coming from the formal dining room area, a harsh thumping and loud sobs belonging to Aaron. You see him over what used to be Foyet, and you run to him, pulling him away.

“He’s dead, Hotch! He’s gone! You’re okay!”

He breaks down crying from there, an inconsolable man crying at the feet of his ex-wife’s killer. 

-----

Something you never thought you’d have to do was not only bury a friend of yours but also comfort her inconsolable husband and kid. As Aaron spoke of Haley and all that she was, you stood off his left shoulder, a hand resting on Aaron’s shoulder as well as Jack’s.

You just stared down at the casket, tears staining the top of your coat. There wasn’t a dry eye as you all listened to a mourning husband who was sharing more of himself right now than he ever has or will again. 

You feel a small hand tug on your sleeve, and you look down to see Jack staring up at you. You crouch down, taking your hand off Aaron’s shoulder. 

“What’s up, buddy?” Your shaky voice asks, even though you tried to keep an even tone.

Jack doesn’t even speak, he just wraps his small arms around your neck and burrows his head into your shoulder. You hold a hand on the back of his head, hoping and failing to hide him from the harsh reality in front of him.

When the service ends and you’re all passing Aaron and Jack, you hang back for a second to look at all the roses on Haley’s casket before walking over to the sullen-eyed man.

“I just wanted to say that if either of you ever needs anything, I’m a phone call away,” You crouch down to be at Jack’s level, “Take care of your dad, okay buddy?” He nods, looking up to his dad. You stand back up and spare one more look at Aaron before walking over to one of the few cars left by the curb. 

-----

JJ gets the one call you dread as you sit around the table, all not-so-subtly glancing out the window to Aaron and Dave throughout your time conversing. The entire team then shifts their gaze to you, variations of sad, knowing looks gracing their faces. They all know that you and Aaron have been close since you joined, so they always looked to you when someone needed to talk to the big boss man.

To save you the embarrassment of being under their gaze, Morgan sends you out to grab Rossi while also realizing you’ll end up talking with Aaron.

The cool air that hits you as you step out onto the patio mirrors a lot of what this day and all the days you’ve lived without Haley have felt like. 

“Rossi, they’re calling us for a case. No other teams available, unfortunately,” You say, sending a sad look to Aaron as you say it.

“Aren’t you comin’ kiddo?” Rossi says, already making small steps towards the door.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll catch up with you guys in a few,” You say as you angle your body towards Aaron. 

“You should really be with the team, they need you,” Aaron says, his eyes taking particular interest in the railing in front of him.

“Aaron, I’ll be there when they need me to be, just like I’m here when you need me to be. Right now we’re both struggling with a loss, and the team understands that,” You say, reaching over to rest a hand over his, “Let me help you, grieve with you. Please.”

He sighs, and you can feel and hear the tears in his voice as he asks, “Can-” he sniffles, “ Can you help me keep my promise?” 

A look of confusion dashes across your face, trying to figure out what promise he was referring to. Then, you recall Haley’s words you heard in the SUV, her final words, making Aaron promise that he will show his son how he and Haley loved.

A small, earnest but sorrowful smile settles on your face, “Of course, Aaron. I’ll spend the rest of my life helping you keep that promise, and I’m sure the rest of the team will too.”

He finally moves from looking out at the world away from the patio to looking at you. He pulls you in for a hug, and you can feel the tears come down on your shoulder. He stays like that for a long time, even after the tears are gone. He finally pulls back and sniffles, reorienting himself. You knew that he was vulnerable, he just hated showing it.

“You really should go, the team needs you for the case,” Aaron says, not wanting to push you away, just taking his time to grieve. You relent, nodding your head.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, and I mean it, Hotchner,” You say, a playful sternness in your tone, even if you were genuine. You see him give a small smile as you make your way back inside.

You both were grieving. He lost an ex-wife whom he still loved, a friend, and the mother to his young child. You lost a friend who was more like a sister, and someone you cared so deeply for.

Both of you could hear the faint bells going off in the back of your head, alerting you of something you couldn’t- wouldn’t- address.

Too much, too soon.

That’s all that anything was these days. Too much, too soon.

But, as with everything in life, sometimes you have to face things head-on. Needless to say, that virtue was not something that came easy to you or Aaron.

But what was to happen when those bells started ringing a whole lot louder?