#so you COULD say that she’s the one that ended up in hell

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm XI

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: An old face watches a match

She wasn't as young as she once was.

Teaching hadn't originally been her first choice as a job but after finishing school and spending a few years bored senseless as a receptionist, at age twenty-five, she'd made the change to teaching children in their first year of school.

Now, twenty-five years later, she was getting older and her students seemed to be just as wild and excitable as they always had been.

This school trip hadn't exactly been planned by the school, not fully anyway but a generous donation from who knows where had her and a few other teachers taking a three classes of wiggling and excited five year olds to a home match for the Barcelona women's team.

"Let's get to our seats now," She says, trying to get everyone in her class seated and happy but it's like trying to fight a group of wet cats - a losing battle.

"Miss, he pushed me!"

"Miss, I want to sit with my friends!"

"Miss, I can't find my bracelet!"

"Miss, my Mami gave me spending money!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

She sighs to herself, rattling off instructions in a way that only a practiced teacher could.

"Lucas, stop pushing people. We use our nice hands with people. Isabella, you can sit next to your friends if there's space. Ana, your bracelet got put into your bag. Pedro, spending money can be used at half time. Now, everyone needs to sit down or else they won't start the match!"

It takes a little while to get all the kids settled and she briefly thinks about how this would be a hell of a lot easier if the school had more people who could chaperone.

It's a fleeting thought because she knows she can't do anything about it now but still, it would be nice.

Nice like it is now to watch one of her old students walk out as one of the most well known footballers not only in Spain but the world as well.

Alexia Putellas, the captain of Barcelona, leads her team out - head held high and back straight. A far cry from the little girl that used to slump in her seat in class and cry when someone took her ball at breaktime.

There weren't many students that she remembered so well - a handful that have ended up in politics, one that somehow ended up at the UN and one whose arrest made national news.

But Alexia was one of the good ones, helpful and polite most of the time.

She can remember though, with startlingly clarity the second day of classes.

It had been her second day as a teacher ever and she'd been supervising the playground at lunch when Alexia had appeared and dragged her off.

She'd dragged her all the way to the slide where you'd been waiting.

"You have to marry us, Miss," Alexia had said, eyes wide and incredibly earnest," We want to get married."

"Er..."

"You have to, miss," You'd joined in," Because we're in love and my Papa always said that people in love get married."

She'd been speechless then but still done as you and Alexia said, a little charmed by those two little girls begging to be married under the slide.

Alexia was easy to follow now, her exploits known throughout the country on and off the pitch. You'd faded though and your old teacher wasn't quite sure where you'd ended up.

Likely something successful and important.

Even as a little girl, you'd had a good work ethic. Work before play, always, was something you'd abided by.

She could see you as something important now. Your parents were doctors, she's pretty sure, so maybe you followed in their footsteps.

It would suit you, she thinks as she watches Alexia slam the ball into the net for a third time today.

Barcelona wins.

But that's entirely to be expected.

What isn't expected though, is for the staff from the team to invite the classes down onto the pitch to meet the players.

"Carlos, don't run! Mia, don't yell over someone! Lucas, again! Stop pushing people! Everyone will get a turn!"

"Some things never change then."

She turns with a smile. "Alexia."

"Hi, Miss."

"You don't have to call me that anymore."

Alexia's brow wrinkles. "What else would I call you? You've always been my teacher."

"You're an adult now, Alexia. You don't have to call me that anymore if you don't want to."

"But I do. Is that alright?"

"That's okay. So long as you want to."

Alexia beams, the same big smile she had as a five year old when she would come to the desk with a picture she drew of herself in the Barcelona kit.

It's still strange to see that exact image in real life.

"I'd like to introduce you to one of my daughters. This is Maya."

"She's beautiful."

"Mi Amor is just changing our other daughter. They'll be out in a minute."

"It's nice to see that you're doing so well. A good job. A nice family."

"We have dogs too! And my wife's old cat! She built me a house, you know? My wife, that is. Not her cat."

It's nice to see that Alexia's word vomit from her childhood hadn't changed much either. She was so stoic and quiet most of the time but any topic that drew her interest could be (and would be) talked about for hours at a time.

"That's nice to hear, Alexia."

"And we bought a villa in Greece for our next holiday! And I bought her this nice matching bracelet and necklace set! But! You can't tell her because it's going to be a surprise!"

"A special occasion?"

Alexia looks affronted at the idea. "I don't need a special occasion to show my wife how much I love her! Just my love!" She turns, glancing over her shoulder and her whole face lights up. "Oh! Amor, you're back! Look, Miss Rivera is here!"

Miss Rivera looks over to the tunnel where you have emerged from, a babbling baby on your hip and a rock of a ring on your hand.

"Oh, hi, Miss!"

She sighs. "I told Alexia that you two don't need to call me that anymore."

You frown. "But you've always been our teacher. What else would we call you?"

"Miss, this is our new baby Elena." Alexia puffs out her chest proudly. "My wife gave birth to her. Doesn't she look good for giving birth a few months ago?"

You slap her on the shoulder before pressing a kiss to where you just slapped. "Don't listen to her, Miss. She'll take any excuse to talk about it."

Alexia nods solemnly. "It was very scary because there were complications but she's doing so well now. Both Elena and my wife. Right, Amor? She's a doctor, you know. Very successful."

Again, Alexia seems to preen like a peacock as if you being so successful and so smart brought her such pride.

"You've both been very successful," Miss Rivera says," I'm so proud. A long way from that marriage under the slide, huh?"

You grin, intertwining your fingers with Alexia's.

"But still married."

[athenamikaelson]

A/N- finn is hot- don't try to fight me on this

Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 25

Word Count- 3.2k

Warnings- mentions of STDS, sex, condoms, bananas, THEO, decapitation, Kardashians

“Why are you smiling like that?” I finish applying the lipstick Rebekah sent me as an apology gift for attacking Elena, and glance over to Theo leaning against the doorframe.

“I just had a good dream,” I mumble as I stand up from my desk and grab my jacket.

Theo hums.

“So it has nothing to do with you letting that mutt slobber all over you last night…or his brother coming over right after and spending the night with you… I must say sister, juggling two bitches,” Theo wipes away a fake tear, “I’m so proud of you.”

I whip around and glare at him, “Theodore Monty Y/l/n, watch it!”

Theo smirks at me and raises his hands. 

“All I’m saying is that like 3 weeks ago the only side piece you had on your arm was Elena, and now you’ve got two brothers. Upgrades sister, hell ya!”

Theo throws out his palm for me to high-five. I don’t. Instead, I walk around him and down the hallway to the front door. 

Theo continues to speak.

“Now I know you’ve had zero playtime soooo I think we should chat about this. For example, we should have the talk.”

I freeze. 

“Theo, I will smother you in your sleep if you continue to talk.”

“Y/n, I don’t like children, I don’t want any nieces or nephews running around.”

I glare over my shoulder at him, “They’re vampires, you dimwit. They can’t have kids.”

Theo thinks to himself for a moment before nodding, “Okay. Well, what about STDs? What if there are vampire STDs you could catch? One look at that mutt from last night and I bet he’s got something you can catch other than fleas.”

I feel my face drop as Theo continues to mutter things to himself about vampire sexually transmitted diseases. 

I shake my head, open the front door, and leave the house, hearing Theo call from behind me. 

“Fine run! But don’t think for a second young lady that we won’t be discussing things later! And trust next time I see either one of those fools I will be asking them about Vamp STDs!”

At that exact moment, our 82-year-old neighbor Shelley, exits her house. I’m pretty sure her look of pure shock and horror mirrors mine. 

“Oh hi Mrs. Davenport,” Theo yells happily.

—

“Hey Bonnie, how are you?”

The phone line is silent for a moment as I hear Bonnie closing a door.

“I’m fine…I guess. My mom’s going to finish her transition,” Bonnie’s sad voice makes me frown as I stare at the red light in front of me. 

“I’m sorry, Bonnie,” I think back to last night and try to shake away the image of Esther’s decapitated head from my head, “If I would’ve known your mother…”

“Don’t apoligize, Y/n. It’s not your fault. And ya… it sucks she has to become a vampire but…it beats losing you or Elena. And I swear, Y/n, as soon as Damon told me that if the originals died, you would die with them, I tried stopping the spell. I would have never done it in the first place if I knew you’d die too.”

Bonnie’s earnest voice makes me smile, “I trust you, Bon. And thank you.”

I hear someone say something to Bonnie and she sighs, “I’ve got to go.”

“It’s ok, Bonnie. We’ll talk soon. Give yourself some time with your mother before coming back to this mess over here. You deserve it.”

“Okay, thank you. And when I get back we’ll find a way to get you out of that soul bond mess and away from the Mikaelsons.”

“Uh, ya, ok. Bye, Bonnie.”

I end the call and pull into the Grill’s parking lot. As I step out of my car, cross the street, and enter the grill, one thought won’t leave my head.

“What if I don’t want to break the bond?”

—

“Y/n?”

I stop walking and smile when my eyes meet Finn’s brown ones.

“Hey, Finn,” I slide into the seat in the booth across from him and can’t help but smile at the obvious discomfort he has plastered on his face.

“You look…”

“Uncomfortable…yes I know. A lot of things have changed since I was last part of civilization,” Finn fiddles with the ring on his middle finger and it reminds me of the anxious tic I do quite often. 

“We could’ve met somewhere else. I know that being in big crowds like this unsettles me too,” I smile softly at him. 

Finn eyes a group of passersby wearily but still shakes his head, “No…I’m alright. If I’m going to be a part of this world I’ve got to learn to live with these things.”

I nod, “Okay. So, why exactly did you have Rebekah call me to meet you here?” Finn turns his attention away from a drunk woman who seems to be having the time of her life, “You said you’d help me find my Rose.”

Oh…ya I did. 

I cringe slightly, “So here’s the thing Finn,” I’m about to tell Finn that there is no way in hell Bonnie would agree to bring another old ass vampire to Mystic Falls after what just went down, but as I look at the helpless expression on Finn’s face and the loneliness in his eyes, something in my breaks, “My witch is currently out of town for a family thing,” Finn’s shoulders sag and his face drops, “But, she said she’d be happy to help as soon as she gets back.”

Finn eyes me for a moment before a soft smile on his face appears, “I’ve waited 900 years for her…a little longer will be fine. Thank you for helping me, Y/n, I know you don’t have to but…”

“Finn we’re friends, that’s what friends do,” I say simply and Finn frowns. 

“Friends?”

The way he says the word aloud is as if he’s never heard it before.

“I mean you don’t have to be my friend, I was just-”

“I would like it,” Finn interrupts me, “It’s just that I’ve never really…had one before.”

His words bring back memories of me crying in my room, wondering why no one ever wanted to be around me and it makes me realize just how much me and this 1,000-year-old man have in common. 

“Well, I just got my first friend like 3 months ago, so I’m pretty new to this whole friend thing too.”

Finn frowns, “I don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to be friends with you.”

I shrug, “I’m peculiar, remember?”

Finn’s upper lip twitches, “That we are.”

—

“Wait… so Kim is the oldest?”

I groan at Finn’s words, “Finnias, no! We’ve been over this Kourtney is the oldest! Kim is the one dating Kanye.”

Finn nods thoughtfully, “And we don’t like Kanye?”

I shake my head, “No because he was mean to Taylor Swift.”

I watch as the wheels turn in Finn’s head as he continues to piece together all the information on pop culture I’ve given him in the past hour. 

“Alright, I think I’m understanding. Actually…remind me again who Hannah Montana is?”

“Well, don’t you two look comfy together!”

I roll my eyes as I turn to see Demon Salvawhore smirking down at Finnias and I.

“What do you want, Demon?”

“I thought his name was Damon,” Finn questions me with a confused look.

“It is, but I still haven’t seen him and Lucifer in the same place at once so I call him Demon.”

Finn nods but looks down at his hands with a confused look.

“I just saw you two here chatting it up so I thought I might come say hi.”

“Well, we’re kind of in the middle of something here. So feel free to take your leave,” I glare at him.

“It’s alright, Y/n,” Finn says and I turn to see him getting out of the booth, “I should probably get back to make sure my siblings are still alright. But…thank you, for today and helping me.”

I smile up at Finn, “Anytime, Finnieas. And I’ll talk to Klaus about buying you that phone so I can show you how to text.”

Finn nods his head, smiling, and then walks away.

My smile falls as I glance back to Demon.

“What do you want?” “Why are you avoiding me?”

I blink slowly at him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Damon gives me an “Are you serious” look.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Pukey. I’ve tried calling you all night last night and all this morning. Only to find you here with yet another original.”

I stand up and glare at him, “Finn is my friend.”

“Ya? Just like Elijah and Klaus are right?”

This bitch.

“I’m not doing this with you right now, Damon. Leave me alone.”

I turn and walk away but Damon’s hand grabs my upper arm.

“Y/n, stop.”

“Is there a problem here, Y/n?”

I turn to my right to find Rebekah at my side, glaring at Damon.

“No, Rebekah. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Rebekah smiles at me but doesn’t move. 

Damon drops my arm but doesn’t leave, “Why are you mad at me?”

It’s my turn to give him an “Are you serious” look, “Really Damon?! You almost killed the Mikaelson yesterday, which almost killed me, and then you actually did kill Bonnie’s mom who is now turning into a vampire?!”

Damon rolls his eyes and I fight the urge to slap him.

“Bonnie’s mom needed to die,” He says simply and I glare at him.

“And why was that?”

Damon doesn’t blink, “Because it came down to you or her,” His voice comes out strong, “And I’d pretty much kill everyone in this town if it meant my best friend stayed alive.”

Oh, Jesus Christ, I’m going to cry.

“Oh…”

Damon tilts his head, annoyed,  “That’s all you have to say. Oh?”

The next thing I know I’m throwing my arms around him. 

Damon doesn’t move for a moment, but after a few seconds his arms wrap around me and he pats my head awkwardly, “Ya, okay, Pukey. Love you too.”

I let go of Damon and fight back tears in my eyes. Damon rolls his eyes and fies his jacket trying to act tough. 

“You’re too emotional,” He says nonchalantly.

I punch him in the arm, “You just called me your best friend. Not takebacks, Demon.”

Damon rolls his eyes dramatically, “Ya whatever, Pukey.”

He reaches out a hand and messes up my hair before turning around and walking away, not before I spot the small smile on his face.

“You guys are odd.”

Rebekah’s British accent makes me remember she’s standing beside me. 

“Ya, kind of.”

Rebekah rolls her blue eyes and a wave of jealousy flows through me. How is it that someone can be this pretty?! 

“So…Elijah didn’t come back until early this morning,” Rebekah’s lips morph into a smirk, “Do you know anything about that?”

I feel my face heat up, “Um…nope.”

Rebekah raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure? Because the smile that was plastered on his face all this morning says otherwise.”

I furrow my brows, “What does him smiling have to do with me?”

Rebekah gives me an “Are you serious” look, guess it’s common today, “Maybe because the only time my older brother smiles is when he’s around you…And he was really smiling this morning.” 

At her tone I freeze, “Wait…do you think that we…” I move my hands around, “Y’know…”

Rebekah raises an eyebrow at me, “Well, didn’t you?”

I shake my head viciously, “No! All we did was kiss and then he watched Coraline with me until I went to sleep!”

Rebekah’s face falls, “Seriously? You’ve got my older brother all giddy after one kiss.”

I shrug, “I doubt he was “giddy”.

Rebekah nods her head, “Oh trust me, he was practically singing when he was making his morning coffee. 

I snort out a laugh at her words and try to imagine Elijah singing. 

“I like seeing him that way…happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of my siblings like that.”

At her solemn voice, I frown, “How are you doing? After everything…”

Rebekah shrugs, “I’m fine. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be.”

Her dismissal has me frowning deeper, “Bekah, you’re mother died. I know that she tried to kill you but it doesn’t change the fact that she was still your mother.”

Rebekah looks at me but her face doesn’t betray how she’s really feeling, “I’m fine, Y/n. Finn was the mummy’s boy. I don’t give a damn about that woman.”

I nod but still don’t believe her, “Well if you ever do need to talk to someone. You can always call me.”

Rebekah eyes me for a moment skeptically, then nods, “I won’t need to but…thanks. I guess,” Her attention strays for a moment, “There is someone I need to go talk to. Goodbye, Y/n.”

“Bye, Rebekah.”

—

I pull into my driveway but feel a frown come over my face as I notice an unfamiliar expensive-looking black car in my usual parking spot.

I park beside it and hurry into the house, worrying about Theo.

“Theo! Are you okay-”

“So, both of you have your bananas, and these right here are condoms,” I turn the corner and my jaw drops as I see Theo holding up a banana and a Trojan condom. An unfamiliar sound comes out of my mouth when I look at the two figures sitting on the couch before him with bananas in their hands and annoyed looks on their faces. Klaus and Elijah. 

“Theo what the hell are you doing?!?”

My yell of utter horror catches the three men’s attention.

“Oh, goody! Sister, I’m glad you’re here,” Theo drops his banana on the coffee table before Klaus and Elijah, a table that is covered in condoms and STD pamphlets, “After our little talk this morning I got to thinking and decided that if you and I aren’t going to talk about the elephants in the room, I’d just call up your boyfriends and have that chat with them myself.”

I stare wide-eyed at Elijah and Klaus, “And you both agreed to this?!?”

Elijah releases a deep sigh and Klaus glares at my little brother, “Your infant here called us and said we had to get over here because you were in danger.”

Theo raises his hands, “YES! In danger of catching a vampire STD.”

“Theo! Those don’t exist,” I screech at him.

“That’s exactly what we’ve tried to explain to him for the past 30 minutes, Elskan. For some reason, it isn’t sticking,” Elijah raises his head and shoots a dirty look at my brother. 

“Thirty minutes!? You’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes letting my 16-year-old brother have the sex talk with you!?”

“Well, 15 of those minutes were filled with threats,” Klaus mutters.

I glare at him, “I thought I told you to stop threatening my brother.”

Klaus turns his glare onto me and raises his hands in exhaustion, “The threats were from him, Love! And they were quite imaginative.”

“Thank you, I’ve been working on them for a while now,” Theo smirks at Klaus, and the hybrid growls at him. 

“Niklaus, please,” Elijah sighs.

Theo turns his attention back onto me, “Well now that you’re here,” He drags me over to a chair and pushes me down into, “I can finally give you the talk.”

“What talk,” Elijah asks confused.

Theo looks at him like he’s stupid, “The sex talk, dumbass. Since you,” He points to Elijah, “Like to spend the night in my sister’s bed without asking me permission. And you,” He points to Klaus, “Like to slobber all over her like the dog you are. I thought it would be a good idea to have this discussion before things move further. Now gentleman pick your bananas back up.”

“Theo! NO!”

Theo ignores me and smiles at Klaus and Elijah, who haven’t moved.

“One more dog joke out of you, Theodora and I swear I’ll-”

“Niklaus!”

Elijah and Klaus eye each other and Theo just stands there tapping his shoe on the hardwood floor. 

“Theo go to your room, right now,” I stand up and glare at him, “We are not having this discussion right now…or ever!”

“But the vampire STDS!”

“Theodore there are no such things as vampire STDS! GO TO YOUR ROOM!”

My yelling has all three men looking at me wearily. 

Theo raises his hands in surrender, “Ok, fine. Just trying to help.”

“And leave the condom here!”

Theo halts and turns back to the table and Klaus, Elijah, and I watch as Theo empties maybe 30 condoms from his jeans. 

“Bloody hell,” Klaus mutters.

I glare at Theo as he skips out of the living room and down the hall to his room. As soon as I hear his door close I run a hand over my face.

“Elskan-”

I raise a hand stopping Elijah before he can continue. 

“Nope. Whatever you’re going to say…just nope.” 

“Well, I’m never going to look at a banana the same way,” Klaus’ says sarcastically and I’m silent for a moment before a loud laugh escapes my mouth.  

I move my hands from my face and find Klaus smirking at me, and Elijah smiling softly at me with a bright look in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you both just leave,” I asked incredulously, “You two are the strongest and oldest creatures alive, and yet you stayed to have a teenage boy teach you how condoms work?!”

Klaus and Elijah side-eye each other. 

Elijah stands from his seat and fixes his suit jacket, “When we heard that you were in danger we hurried over here as fast as we could…but when we came inside and found this,” He gestures to the table of condoms and bananas, “We were going to leave.”

“And then Theodora locked the door behind us and told us that if we didn’t sit down and shut up he’d never give us his approval. And then said that we can bet our asses that if we don’t have his approval, you’d never speak to us again. I of course told him to go to hell but my brother here sat down like the good boy he is,” Klaus says and rolls his eyes.

“And yet you’re still here,” Elijah mutters. 

“So let me get this straight,” I look to both of them, “You endured Theo’s company for 30 minutes, just because you want his approval?!”

“If his approval means you accepting us…then of course we did.”

Klaus mutters something about Theo and daggers, but I ignore him. 

“You really care that much?”

Klaus and Elijah both give me “Are you serious” looks. 

“Love, I thought we made our thoughts about you quite known,” Klaus says as he stands, “We want you. Even if that means you come with a less than exceptional little brother as baggage.”

I snort at Klaus’ words and Elijah walks across the table and over to me, “There is nothing in this world I desire more than your company and happiness, Y/n. Please believe me when I say that.”

I feel my face heat up at the attention of the two men and I nod.

“I believe you.”

“Great,” Klaus says then pauses, “Also…I was just wondering what exactly was discussed by you and Theodora to warrant all of this,” He gestures to the table with a smirk. 

Oh fuck.

[thanosscross]

Can I request a enemies to lovers with thanos?

I love ur writing n his character ty!

of course!! We love Thanos in this household <3 and thank you <3 I absolutely love the support I've been getting just in the one day this accounts been up <3 I do wanna say thank you guys along with a thank you to my fiancee with her amazing help with this <3 >< while I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers I'm terrible at writing pre-relationship fight scenes without a full blueprint, so my fiancee's help and obsession with the Enemies to Lovers trope definitely made this story into what it is <33

I fucking hate you - Choi Su-bong/Thanos x reader

Summary: You vowed to always hate Choi Su-bong, not only did he ruin your life but he was also just an asshole. Su-bong vowed to always hate y/n not only was she a bitch she costed him his only shot at a big rap career, so what happens whenever you two see each other after years in a death game for cash?

warnings: none really? Thanos being an ass for about..the first half

Growing up with Choi Su-Bong was your personal hell, he was your neighbor, and he always had something to bitch about towards you, always calling you out in front of the school, even going as far as coming up with MULTIPLE different stories to make you lose your spot as top of the class. Su-bong ruined your chance at any good future, forcing you to stay trapped in the same neighborhood you grew up in, while he started his rap career.

It wasn't like you were innocent either, while Su-bong went for public humiliation with your shared classmates, you went for his parents, charming them with your nice good girl demeanor, becoming his 'babysitter' (They never trusted Su-bong alone, even at 16/17) and tutor, snitching him out for any little thing you could find out about, making his home life even more of a personal hell for him. So you both hated each other for pretty respected reasons, you ruined each others potential futures, and never acknowledged it. After he moved away with his rap career blowing up, you thought you were finally free of him and his constantly ruining your life, until the debt came. Your mom got sick, your dad up and left one day, so financials were solely on you, shoving you deep into thousands of wons in debt.

You were close to ending it, going on a walk towards the old trainyards, whenever you ran into a way too well dressed man to be there, he offered you a fix, something you took without a second thought.

Red light, Greenlight was going great, until you and everybody else realized you weren't just being taking out of the running for the cash, you were risking your life. You stood frozen, keeping your eyes squeezed shut as you waited for the doll to turn back around "Holy shit! Holy shit! Y/n!?" You heard a grating voice shout out behind you, of course he was here, why couldn't you ever do something without him ruining it. Standing still, not wanting to move until you were allowed to, you continued to hear Thanos's shouts, as greenlight was called, you tried to hide yourself in the crowd, not wanting to interact with him, but, like always, he found someway to ruin it for you. As red light was called, Thanos's high ass skipped over slamming into you almost knocking you off of your feet, before you could make contact with the ground, two arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against him, smirking as he used to opportunity of being stuck on redlight to be close to you "Y/n! What are you doin here!?" He gasped practically shouting in your face, as the doll's head turned again you shoved him back "Let go of me, you fucking drug addict, we are NOT friends" You seethed, okay so maybe you blamed Su-bong for a alot of things that happened after he left, but you didn't care, he was an easy person to blame.

Thanos gave an overdramatic pained expression as he rested a hand on his chest, rushing to stay caught up with you "C'mon! Y/n!" He shouted spinning around you to face you as the doll's head spun "Su-Bong! Please! Leave me alone! We aren't friends! We never fucking were! I hate you! I fucking hate you so much! You ruined my fucking life!" You growled trying to hide your body behind his to keep you out of view of the doll "Psh! I ruined your life!? You ruined my life! Do you not understand that!?" He shouted, his excited playful demeanor shifted, he was angry now, how dare you say that? You were at every corner to him ruining his life. You felt the same about him though, especially right now "I didn't do shit!" You scoffed "You did drugs! In school! So yea! I told your parents! So you told everybody in school including the principal and my parents that I've fucked every teacher since the start of high school!" You shouted "I got kicked out of school for the rest of the year! Do you know how bad that ruined my life!?" You finished punching his chest as hard as you could "Uhm! Ow! And you didn't just tell my parents! I was about to sign on to a recording label and you fucked that up for me being a bitch!" He argued, if it weren't for the fact the Doll's head still faced towards you, you were sure that you would've stormed off by now.

You took off as soon as the doll's head turned back around, making it past the red colored line in the sand, trying to stay away from everybody until it was lights out. You were almost successful, until somebody used their bodyweight and arm to pin you against the wall "Why can't you just admit that you were a bitch?" He snapped, only now did you realize it was your walking curse, Su-bong "Why can't you just admit you're an arrogant asshole who only cares about himself" You snapped, trying to shove him away like usual, but this time was different than all the other times growing up, this time he didn't stumble, his body didn't even shift under it, he just stood there stiff, you'd be lying if you said it didn't scare you a little bit, now realizing maybe those times you 'beat his ass' he let you, because now, feeling trapped between him and the wall, your shoves and hits not phasing him in the slightest, truly shook you to your core with fear, he could do anything at this point, you couldn't let him see though, you'd just feed into his stupid cocky attitude even more.

"Admit. You. ruined. everything. for me. bitch" he seethed, Su-bong leaning closer to your face, you could feel his breath on your face at this point.

Su-bong smiled, the look on your face was one he had been trying to get for years, who knew all it took was just hiding the face a few punches really fuckin hurt "Go on. say it" He whispered, you shivered, your panicked eyes scanning over his face, before taking in a shaky breath "Let me go" You snapped before a hand landed on Su-bong's shoulder "The young lady said to let her go, I advise you do so" A man threatened from behind, Su-bong smirked slowly turning around before realizing the man was about half a foot taller than him "Fine. fine. but she'll admit eventually" Su-bong said, giving you one last glare, before the man, number 001, stepped closer "I'm Young Il, who was that guy?" He introduced himself watching as you fixing your jacket and huffed "An asshole I used to live by, I'm y/n" You explained, he nodded, offering you take you over to where him and his friends sat.

Thanos sat next to his bunk, watching you closely, he couldn't describe it, but seeing you talking to somebody else made him feel crazier than any drug, it had always been that way, the entire reason he started hating you was because you were always interested in everybody except him, and it pissed him off, he knew he was hot, he knew he could ask out just about any girl he sees who knows him and she'll be ecstatic, but you acted like he was scum, just because he took some pills and smoked some weed to feel better about things. Nam-Gyu huffed, noticing his friend hadn't been listening that entire time he was talking, he followed his eye line, noticing you laughing and talking with two of the men from before, the crazy guy and the one who stopped them from beating that stealing bitcoin asshole's ass.

As the lights went out, Su-bong stayed in his place, watching say your goodnights to the group you had been with, he knew you had to walk right by him to get to your bunk, he knew yours was the one right next to his, thank god. As you approached him, you never realized until you were basically tripping over him on the stairs, scoffing you caught yourself on the bed "Seriously?" You growled, letting yourself fall onto your bed, as he took in your location, he slowly crawled to you "Join my team" he offered, you laughed loudly, quickly covering your mouth to not disturb the other players "Yea...no" You laughed looking at him, you couldn't see it in the dark, but Su-bong got visibly pissed off with your response "It wasn't a question" He demanded, glaring at you, you wanted so badly to just punch him in the head, but you just turned your back to him "Goodnight su-bong" He stopped at your reply, yes you weren't agreeing, but that was the first somewhat nice thing you had said to him in awhile, even if it was to cut him off and end the conversation he wasn't done with. Huffing and falling back onto his bed, he laid on his side to watch you, half because if you got killed, he'd be damned if it was anybody but him doing the deed, and half because he didn't want you sneaking off to go lay with the old dick that interrupted him from earlier.

He watched you toss and turn for hours, not really knowing when you fell asleep because he had passed out himself, waking up whenever the loud trumpets sounded off, and the lights flicked on, he slowly sat up, quickly checking his necklace was still around his neck, and you were still in bed. You were, your blanket wrapped tightly around you, Su-bong marveled for a moment, before realizing you were still deep in sleep, unphased by the loud music and lights. He slowly moved across the stairway, ghosting a hand over your back "Y/n. Y/n it's to wake up" He said, trying to be loud enough to wake you up, you did infact wake up, but with a jolt, turning quickly and grabbing Su-bong's hand, stopping at the very last second before your fist connected with his jaw "Hey!" He protested, attempting to lean out of the way "The next game is gonna start"

The next game you played was six legs, which went as smoothly as it could have been, you stuck with Young-Il and his friends, which in the end you realized was a good choice. Making your way through dinner and lights out was your next issue, Su-bong was starting to get on your nerves and you couldn't understand why he was so clingy all of a sudden "I thought I said to join my team?" he asked you, the lights had gone out long ago, and your back was to him "And i thought I laughed in your face and told you no?" You asked turning on your side to face him "I don't like that guy, or you being around him" He stated, going to lean closer to you but you beat him to it, shoving your finger at his chest "I don't care, young-il is sweet and cares about me, unlike some people! Su-bong you are the most selfish person I fucking know, who knows if I would be betrayed and killed because of you! You ruined everything I worked so hard for! ruined my name! And you think you can boss me around!?" You shouted, every shout followed by a harsh hit to the shoulder or chest, you couldn't help it, he pissed you off. Su-bong was feeling something else though, the more you shouted at him, the more his eyes were drawn your lips rather than your words, You were too caught up in your shouts to notice though, that was until his fingers rested on your chin tilting your head up so you were making direct eye contact "Shut up." He demanded "Just go to bed, whatever the game is, you'll need sleep" He explained, you were too stunned to say anything, instead just ripping your head away from him and laying down in your bed "You shut up" You grumbled, trying to hide your flustered face, no way you were about to show or admit that you were flustered by that selfish dick.

During Mingle you tried to stick with Young-il, but Nam-Gyu, Su-Bong, and Min-su kept grabbing you and forcefully taking you with them, until it just turned into just Su-bong pulling you into a room with him "Why can't you just leave me alone!?" You cried out, you were trying so hard to avoid him, and yet he was trying his best to run into you. "I told you to stay away from young il" his voice was low and deep, you glared at him, you thought you made yourself clear last night, before you could start back up though, Su-bong was right in front of you, leaning down and pressing a finger to your lips "Don't wanna hear it" He interrupted before looking at you "Why don't you want me?" He asked tilting his head, you glared at him "Because you're a selfish self entitled asshole?" You asked like it was obvious, Su-bong huffed "Even in school, every chick wanted me, why not you?" He asked tilting his head, you just rolled your eyes "Just because I don't throw myself at you, doesn't mean I never wanted you, you just ruined it by being you" You huffed, sighing in relief hearing the lock unlock, you rushed out, desperate to just get back to the room.

Meal time was weird, you surprised yourself by sitting with Su-bong and his friends, Thanos quickly leaning over, pulling you down to sit across from him, smirking at you "Welcome to the Thanos world" He said, you just rolled your eyes at him scoffing "Don't ruin it" You warned raising an eyebrow, you continued to eat your food, finally opening your milk taking a huge drink, normally it wouldn't be your choice of drink to chug, but after running around so much, you needed literally anything. You heard Su-bong scoff this time, causing you to look up at him confused "Why do women drink something leave it on their lip, and act like they don't know?" He asked aloud, but by his eye contact you could tell it was directed towards you "I'm sorry?" You asked going to wipe your mouth but he leaned up quickly "Don't! That's disgusting" He grimaced before leaning over the stairwell to copy his actions from the night before, using his index and thumb to tilt your head up, thinking he was going to wipe it off with his jacket, you were shocked to feel his soft lips against yours. You shuddered feeling his tongue swipe swiftly over your top lip before he pulled away sitting back down, continuing to eat like he didn't just do that.

Your cheeks were bright with a blush as you now sipped the rest of your milk, careful not to get anymore on your lips, if you did, you made sure to lick your lips before Su-bong could take notice. Any crumbs left on your lips after you were done eating he was also quick to wipe those off, almost like you couldn't on your own or you needed to be supervised while you ate. Whenever lights out came it was even more odd, instead of his usual crawling over to bother you, he quietly whispered your name from his spot on his bunk "What?" You asked, your tone coming off a little bit more harsh than you intended "Sorry...it's just, did you mean what you said earlier?" He asked, you sighed turning around to face him "I thought you were really hot for awhile, all of my friends knew it, it's just, you started acting like an ass, and then I lost a trip to college because of you" You explained "And I guess I just didn't have time to think like that because I was busy being mad at you" you explained, you watched him frown and his eyebrows furrow in confusion "I..I never meant to do that..I just wanted you to like..get in trouble or something" He whispered "I was just...You planted my friends drugs on me, told my parents and I couldn't make it to a meeting I had that could've launched my rap career into space" He whispered, now it was your turn to feel bad, you didn't mean to do all of that, just get him grounded for a little bit. It was your turn to crawl to his bunk, giving him a awkward hug "I..I didn't mean to do that..I just..you ruined that for me and you were just getting off without any troubles..parties every week, so..I thought if I took the parties and stuff away it'd give you some type of punishment" you mumbled, Su-bong leaned up hugging you back "Yea..You were pretty lame" He whispered nodding along to agree with his own comment "Shut up, you were a stupid idiot" You defended pulling away from the hug "Why did I ever think I could forgive you" You giggled, tilting your head slightly as you smiled at him, never would you have thought you'd be having a civil conversation with this dickhead, let alone laughing and smiling with him "Aw, c'mon beauty flower, everybody forgives thanos" He teased, you gawked at him in second hand embarrassment, he did not just say that. "I actually fucking hate you" You said, the smile on your face an obvious sign that maybe you didn't hate him as much as you say. "What? Beauty flower? or the fact that you'll forgive me" He asked wiggling his eyebrows at you, you just laughed, you felt like a young teenager again, before your feud started with Su-bong and the drugs and debt started with you both. "Both! Don't call me beauty flower, and I will not be forgiving you" You protested, Su-bong pouted, you took your chance to shock him this time and pressed your lips against his pouting ones, his hand immediately came in contact with your ass trying to pull you closer, you just rolled your eyes, grabbing his hand moving it to your cheek pressing your lips completely against his, taking a breath of relief whenever he kissed back, his lips moving with yours like it had been rehearsed before. As you pulled away, Su-bong huffed tugging his tracksuit pants down "Now I fucking hate you" He smirked reaching for his necklace "Me first" You smirked before moving back to your bunk giving him a final wink before turning around "Goodnight...thanos" You said, not being able to believe you actually just called him that "Night, pretty girl" you heard say with a large amount of cockiness in his voice, he couldn't help it though, even now if he went home, he'd have enough for his debts, and just kissed the girls he's wanted to kiss since he learned what kissing girls was.

--

so what do we think?

[faygosoda]

Angst w hyun-ju? Where reader gets attacked really badly during the special game and hyun-ju couldn't protect reader. Hyun-ju is like really worried because reader is like kinda on the verge of bleeding out and dying

A/N: Oh yeahh my first req!! I hope I did this justice n Im sorry if she comes off as ooc!!

Title: So Much Lost

“Fuck..” you mumbled, hand holding your side as you stumble into one of the beds, tears welling in your eyes.

Stupid games, stupid debt, stupid bob having druggie stabbing you with the fork..

You held back a groan as your knees became weak, left hand bracing yourself on the post of the bed.

You didn’t want to worry the others with this but considering the fact that you were on the verge of passing out and bleeding (which was such a lame way to go), you would have no choice but to tell someone..

Something just always had to go wrong in your life- family abandoning you, forcing their debt on you, a fuck ass love life, and more AND now you have a stab wound.

Great. At least I’m away from the others.. this would just cause more pani-

“(Name)?…. Holy shit-“

Fuckkkk, of course Dae-ho found you.. always the one to search and help those in need.

“Dae-ho listen don’t go and tell-”

“Like hell I won’t!” He runs off as you groan your left hand which wasn’t currently putting pressure on your side slapping your forehead.

Multiple rushed footsteps are heard from god knows where.

“(Name)!”

“Oh my goodness-”

“Everybody move out the way!”

Blah blah lots of talking lots of worry and concern from who knows who..

You didn’t really pay attention to who was saying what besides one voice that belong to the one person you had came to admire the most throughout the days of being here.

“Hyun- Hyun-Ju..”

It was a quiet mumble but able to be heard from her attentive ears.

“I am right here (Name), stay awake for me okay? Who did this to you?”

Her words were shakey along with her hands that came up to sit you up as.. Gi-Hun? Yeah, Gi-hun and some of the others rushed around to find stuff that could possibly help.

“That- uh.. that one guy with the bob who w- was with the purple h- haired dude..”

I groan out, glancing down at the red spot that progressively got bigger, soaking through the fabric of my tracksuits zip up and onto my hand.

“Son of a bitch..” Hyun-Ju mumbled, tears evident in her eyes.

“D- definitely..” I slur, head falling back as my eyes close before a hand comes to my chin, making my eyes re-open.

“No. Keep your eyes open and look at me. Do not go to sleep.” Her hand hold your chin, turning it her way and you can’t help but look at her adoringly, eyes half lidded and a strained smile on your face.

“I.. I can’t- it hurts so much- I’m- I’m sorry I should’ve listened to- to you..” A choked sob comes from you, tears slipping down your face.

“Stop it- (Name), stop don’t apologize please do not- I can’t lose you too!” Hyun-Ju’s words are rushed yet quiet.

‘I can’t lose you too!’ Oh right, Young-Mi.. shot dead after the third game. One of the many people Hyun-Ju has lost besides her family and well.. now you

Your hands move up to hold her cheek and her hand that held your chin as your vision blurred, colored shapes of those who you now considered your friends gathered around the bed you sat up on.

“Young-Mi’s right.. you’re beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t say so earlier.. you make me nervous. Hyun-Ju, you- you have to make it out for- for me.. please Hyun-Ju.. Don’t let me hold you back.” You spoke quietly, eyes lidded to the point your lashes blocked view of the womans face that had tears falling down her cheeks.

Hyun-Ju nods, face leaning into your touch as she cries, shoulders shaking.

“I promise you I- I will (Name). For- for you.”

You smile, breath slowing down and a meek sound comes from your throat.

The last thing you hear are her sobs which continue to go on for who knows how long.

The only thing that riddles your mind is ‘what would have happened if we met under different circumstances?’

The end!

A/N: Hi guys thanks for reading that oneshot! I hope it was okay n I hope u liked it😇 I #hateangst cuz wdym that bob ho killed us I js wanna chill w my wife😢💔 SORRY THAT ITS SHORT, I WAS LWK BLANKING BUT FOR THE NEXT FF ILL TRY MY BEST TO MAKE IT LONGER!!

Btw pls send in my requests cuz this saved me from boredom💋

[not-neverland06]

𝙲𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜

Pairing ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

Next Part - Hell Hath No Fury Series

A/N: my stupid poor-people photo editing app stopped working so now my cropping is all off and I'm sad. My aesthetic 😭

Summary: Something brews between you and Arthur, but as always, the camp comes first. Despite the growing tension, Arthur must leave to rescue one of the gang who'd been separated in Blackwater. Jealously brews as a loud-mouth Irishman returns to camp and sets his sights on you.

Micah’s cough echoes through the camp and you wince at the sound. “He needs to see a doctor before he gets the rest of us sick.”

Arthur shakes his head and sighs, “Caught somethin’ from the Downes fella in town.” He passes you some coffee which you take eagerly. It’s part of a strange morning ritual you’d begun with him a few weeks ago. Just after the hunting trip, you’d taken to having breakfast with him if he happened to be in camp that morning. It’s become your favorite way to start the day.

You smirk slightly and nudge his side. “You’re welcome.”

He laughs and shakes his head at you, “I’m sorry?”

“Well,” you start with a teasing tone. “If I hadn’t needed a gentlemanly escort into town for some shopping, it would have been you calling in on those loans.”

He opens his mouth to argue but it stays hanging as you see the cogs turning in his head. He snaps his jaw shut with a reluctant sigh, “Suppose you’re right.”

“I always am,” you tell him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Arthur just laughs, passing you some bread. You hear a familiar set of footprints pacing outside the tent and roll your eyes, turning towards the entrance. 

Sure enough, Mrs. Grimshaw paces around the perimeter of Arthur’s tent like a cougar. She sniffs when she catches your eye and turns her nose to the air, wholly pretending she hasn’t been stalking you. 

“Shoo!” Arthur shouts, waving her off. 

You let out a bewildered laugh, smacking his arm. “Arthur, stop,” you hiss, but you don’t sound very stern as you giggle at Mrs. Grimshaw’s affronted look. 

“Go on,” he keeps going, pushing her further. “Get,” he snaps like he’s talking to a wild animal. Mrs. Grimshaw says something you can’t quite catch and stomps her foot once before running off. 

You press a hand over your mouth, fingers pinching your lips to try and stop yourself from laughing. Arthur looks at you for approval and you only shake your head. “Come on,” he tries, “she’s been botherin’ us all mornin’. What was I supposed to do?”

“She’s not a dog, Arthur.”

“You sure ‘bout that?” He teases and you swat at his arm again. 

You shake your head, letting out a heavy sigh. “I truly think she hates me,” you whisper, pouring yourself a little more coffee. 

“She don’t hate you,” he reassures. You tilt your head with a deadpan look and he chuckles. “Well, maybe just a little.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Just because I married rich doesn’t mean I had an easy life.”

“I know that,” he objects. 

You look up from your mug and furrow your brows. “Do you? You think I don’t see the way you look at me? You see the same softness they do. I just can’t figure out whether you like it or resent me for it.”

The playfulness of the morning is long gone. You seem to have a knack for ruining the moment. This question, though, has been haunting you for a while. Dutch is passive in his disdain for your upbringing—snide comments here and there but nothing quite so obvious. 

A few of the girls question you about the privileges of being a lady a little too long for comfort. Then, the conversation will end with one of them sniffing and saying, “Must have been a nice life. Too bad you’re stuck with us now.” 

There are always small moments like that to break the ridiculous idea you’ve got in your head, that you belong. No matter how hard you try to tell them, they don’t seem to understand that this freedom is better than anything money could have bought you. Your life hasn't been your own since the moment you were born. Sure, being on the run from the law and fighting for every penny wasn’t fun. But moments like these with Arthur would never happen if you were back at your estate. 

With the others, it’s easy enough to see their resentment. But Arthur’s better at keeping his cards close to his chest. It took a while for you both to settle into something easy like this. Most of the time you don’t spend more than half an hour together a day. You don’t have a good enough read on him to determine whether or not he holds your past against you. 

Sometimes, you think you might see just a hint of bitterness when he catches a glimpse of the smooth skin of your palms. But you never know if that’s real or something your paranoid mind has conjured up. 

Arthur swirls his mug in his hand, a bit of the coffee splashing over the edge as it does. You squirm uncomfortably in your spot beside him. The sun has begun to heat up the canvas tent, but you know that’s not why you’re sweating. 

He gives you a gentle smile that eases some of the dread building up in your chest. “I don’t care either way. And you shouldn't give a damn what the rest of these fools think. It’s what you’ve done with your life, with your money, that matters.”

You chuckle and shake your head, “You mean my father's money, and then my husband’s money. It was never mine. That’s why I care what they think. I’m dealing with their judgments every damn day and they know nothing about the truth of it all. I was a commodity, practically cattle to those men.”

Arthur’s brows furrow in that familiar way they do whenever you talk about the men of your old life. It doesn’t bother you to talk about them because you’re used to it and they’re gone. But you know it makes Arthur angry to think about it. 

You’ve grown comfortable with each other, but it’s still a cold shock when he casually touches you. You glance down, eyes wide, as you see his palm covering your own. You look back up with a soft smile. “You’re smart, Arthur. Smarter than half the people here give you credit for. And far kinder than anyone I’ve ever met. " Your heart kicks up a beat when you see the way he refuses to meet your eye. 

You’ll compliment him a million times a day if only to get him to start believing you. And maybe so you can keep watching that pink flush on his cheeks. 

“That’s enough of that,” his voice is gruff with something you can’t quite name. Having enough sense to know when to stop you hold your hands up in surrender. 

“Only saying the truth,” but you never can seem to stop yourself from pushing just a little bit further. Arthur shoots you a sharp look and you bite your lip to keep from laughing at him. You can see him start to wind up and prepare yourself for the brief scolding you’re about to receive. Once he’s done with that, maybe you’ll do what you’ve wanted for so long and ask him to accompany you to Strawberry. 

You’ve been trying to work up the nerve as your last two outings haven’t gone wonderfully. You’re hoping a redo might help the both of you grow just a little closer. Besides, being away from camp seems to be beneficial to you both. 

Approaching footsteps bring your conversation to an awkward halt. They’re not the heavy foot of Mrs. Grimshaw. This is someone else, someone much more welcome. You turn and smile at Charles as he hovers at the entrance of Arthur’s tent. Arthur scoffs and mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite make out, but it makes Charles grin. 

Charles gives you a brief nod but his intentions are meant for Arthur. “Whaddya want?” Arthur snaps impatiently. 

“Trelawney came back,” Charles answers shortly and your face pinches in confusion. Trelawney? You roll the name around in your mind but you don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone in camp mention him. 

Arthur’s head perks up, the frown on his face softening just ever so slightly, but it's replaced by something more bitter. Curiosity or nosiness, you’re not sure, but rather than give in to the rules of common decency you don’t leave them to finish their conversation alone.  

You try to lean back, pretending you’re not there so they’ll keep talking. “The hell did he want?” Arthur barks, tone still rudely short. You wonder what happened between him and Charles, they seemed to get along well enough a few weeks ago. 

Charles's gaze darts briefly to you but he continues, “He’s got news about Sean. Says he knows where to find him.” Now, that name you know, if only through vague mentions. You know Karen does her damndest to keep a mention of Sean out of everyone’s mouths. And that he made it out of Blackwater alive but got separated from the rest of the gang. Other than that, you don’t know much about him. 

Arthur gets to his feet and Charles backs away a few paces, leaving the two of you relatively alone again. Arthur looks down at you, something like disappointment on his face. “You need to go,” you assume before he can say anything. 

He nods and you give him an expectant smile, “Then you better get moving, cowboy. I’ll be here when you get back.” He lingers for a moment like there’s more he wants to say. But your mornings together have always been short, you can’t imagine why that would have changed today.

He sucks in a sharp breath before nodding and heading towards Charles. You watch him go, your plans for the day being tucked away. You’ll ask him to town another time. As long as it’s anywhere but Valentine. 

A prissy throat clears behind you and your head sinks between your shoulders with a heavy sigh. “Time to get movin’,” Mrs. Grimshaw commands, with far too much glee in her voice. 

You’re sitting on an overturned bucket, running someone’s pants across the washboard. You hate doing this, especially in the brisk of the early morning. Your fingers have already pruned up from the frigid water and you can barely feel them anymore. 

Your gaze drifts to your right, where the heaping pile of laundry lies, and you consider running off with Lady. You know whatever other chores Mrs. Grimshaw would come up with in retaliation would be a million times worse, but it almost seems worth it at this point. 

You dismiss the idea, deciding to honor the unspoken rule of ladies staying in camp, and continue scrubbing. You think this might be Arthur’s blue shirt. You notice a few fraying edges and holes and make a note to fix them up for him once it’s dry. You only hope you don’t stumble across Uncle’s clothes while you’re doing this. That man has got stains in places that make you want to throw them in the fire, rather than wash them. 

“Never gonna get used to a sight like this,” Sadie calls out as she walks up behind you. She kicks a crate over and throws herself down beside you. 

“You will soon enough,” you let out a bitter chuckle and shake your head, “Mrs. Grimshaw’s got some vendetta against me.”

Sadie shrugs and picks at some dirt under her nails. The sun seems to crest just perfectly over her head, almost making her blonde hair glow. She seems to be getting better. She’s put some space between her and the O’Driscolls and has found a place in camp just a little easier than you. 

Still, you know she’s struggling. She wants the freedom that your friendship with Arthur and Charles has granted you. You know she’s feeling cooped up here at camp. You’ll have to invite her for a ride sometime and see if that will help ease some of her anxiety. 

“Nah, it’s not just you. That old hag hates me too. She thinks I’ve got ideas above my station.” You and Sadie turn, glaring at the back of Mrs. Grimshaw who is fussing at Lenny. You shake your head with a huff of laughter and turn back to the laundry in hand. 

“I miss Jake,” Sadie suddenly blurts out. You freeze, hand still partially submerged in water as you debate how to approach this. Sadie’s always preferred the blunt way of going about life. You don’t think she wants simpering sympathy right now. 

“Which parts of him do you miss?” You ask, trying to keep your tone light as you toss the shirt into the basket beside you. 

“The non-controlling parts.” Sadie nudges your side with a laugh, “Relax, I’m not gonna start cryin’ on ya. I just miss runnin’ my own house, not being bossed around by a son of a bitch like that,” she says, motioning vaguely towards Mrs. Grimshaw. 

“She’s not much better than my husband was,” you grouse, trying to drown out the woman’s voice. 

“Ooh,” Sadie groans, tone laced with long-held resentment. “Forgive me for sayin’ it, but he was a real pain in my ass.”

You can’t help the grin that curls at your lips as you straighten up, momentarily abandoning the laundry. “You’re not my employee anymore, Sadie. Say whatever you want.”

“Right,” she shrugs, “He was a real bastard and I hope he became wolf meat.” Your lips pull back into something resembling a smile, but it's not fully there. You imagine the blood of your husband on your hands and it doesn’t fill you with the usually stifling nausea. Instead, it’s like a distant ache. You’re either growing numb to it or finally accepting that you’ve done the world a favor. 

You suck in a deep breath and nod, “I hope the same.” Sadie lingers for a little while longer, not helping with the clothes, but keeping you company. You don’t talk about anything of much substance. Mainly her irritations with everyone in camp and you echoing the sentiment. She doesn’t like Pearson always trying to force her to cook with him and you hate being his taste tester. It doesn’t matter how much seasoning he adds, he doesn’t know how to make even half-decent stew. 

When Sadie eventually leaves to finish her chores and you’re left all alone with your thoughts, you realize just how painfully slow the day passes by. You almost find yourself dragging the laundry out just to provide you some distraction from waiting for Arthur to come back. 

You’ve both been lingering on the edge of something. You need to see if it’s all in your head or if there might actually be hope for the both of you yet. 

You glare down at the basket of laundry at your feet and let out a heavy sigh. You reach for another shirt and begin scrubbing, keeping a careful eye on the camp’s entrance. 

It’s not until the sky is illuminated with glowing swirls of orange and pink that Arthur and the others come riding back into camp. You’d run out of chores a long while ago and had just been restlessly pacing since then. Every time you so much as approached Lady someone would come by and distract you with some meaningless task. 

You’d been sitting in the tent for the past hour, barely reading a book as you pray time moved faster. You stand now, hearing the cheers and whistles of the others. You move around the canvas, smiling when you see Arthur leading the men back into camp. 

There’s a man on the back of Diablo, a loud-mouthed redhead that you’ve never seen before. You can only assume this is the infamous Sean they’d been after. Judging by the look on Arthur’s face, you imagine he’s been running his mouth the entire time since they rescued him. 

He looks about ready to put a bullet in the young man as he drives him into camp. You see the others all taking notice of their return, Dutch being the loudest of them all. “Sean MacGuire!” He approaches Arthur’s horse, giving the boy a hand down and grinning widely. “Welcome back, son!”

His thick Irish accent catches you off guard, “Oh, ‘appy to be back, Dutch! ‘appy to be back,” he responds eagerly, a large smile on his face.  

You hesitate by the fire, waiting for Dutch to finish before you go darting off towards Arthur. “I do think a return like this requires a celebration!” Dutch calls out to the rest of the gang. They whistle and cheer for him, Bill already rushing off to break out the alcohol. The gleefulness of the moment catches up to you, it eases away some of the anxiety balling up in your gut and you find yourself cheering along with the others. 

Dutch keeps Sean tucked under his arm and begins to parade him through camp. You know this is a win for all of them. Even if someone here hadn’t liked Sean, getting one over on some bounty hunters is always a morale booster. Whatever your opinions on Dutch may be, you have to admit that he knows how to lead his people. 

Even if you happen to think manipulate is a better word for what he does. 

You watch Sean interact with everyone in camp, drawn into the boisterous energy he wraps himself in. It’s clear some of them are already beginning to find him a little annoying. But even his smart comments can’t seem to put a damper on the spirits of the night. 

Your mouth ticks up slightly when you see Lenny slug him in the shoulder, yelling at him for letting himself get caught. You divert your attention away from the interaction, looking for Arthur. You feel a little bit of the giddiness give way to disappointment when you realize you’ve lost sight of him. 

He’s no longer by the horses, Diablo having been hitched long enough to already start grazing the grass. You peer around the women’s tent and then take a few steps towards Arthur’s but he’s nowhere to be found. 

Just as soon as you let yourself be disappointed by this, you also chastise yourself for becoming so infatuated. You’ve always had a bad habit of getting in your head and boosting your hopes up over something mundane. You’ve only just begun forming a friendship with the man and already you’re starting to fret over him. You’re not a schoolgirl anymore, you’ll have to grow out of this at some point. 

You rub a tired hand over your face and suck in a deep breath. The aromas of camp rush over you in a wave. You can still smell the remnants of burnt morning coffee amidst the ever-present scent of the campfire and the fragrance of laundry that lingers on your hands. You can no longer tell if the mingling of odors comforts or irritates you. 

You look up to the shining stars above and pray for a semblance of sense. Wrapping your shawl tighter around your shoulders you resolve to get over this infatuation with Arthur and just enjoy the night. If anything is meant to happen, it will do so naturally. 

Dutch walks towards you as you begin to head towards the domino table. You force yourself to stop when you see the expectant look on his face. Sean trails along behind him now, already seeming to have found his way into some of the liquor. 

 “Mrs. Rowe!” Dutch calls out loudly, you give him a polite smile and he motions towards Sean. “I don’t believe you’ve met my good friend, Sean MacGuire. Mouthiest gunman in the west,” he adds with a smarmy grin.

You shake your head and hold your hand out to the boy. “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. And please, no need to be so formal.” You give him your name, and he perks up. Stumbling forward and attempting to shake the drunkenness off, he turns your palm and kisses the back of your hand instead of shaking it. 

You can’t help but laugh a little at his performance. Molly suddenly calls for Dutch across camp and the three of you turn to face her. “Dutch, over here for a moment!” She waves him forward and Dutch lets out a long-suffering sigh with an easy smile. 

“Duty calls, I believe the two of you can entertain each other for a little while.” He turns towards Molly, arms wide as he calls out, “Now, Miss O’Shea, what ever can I do for you?”

Sean quickly snags your attention again and you realize that he’s yet to let go of your hand. “Not a missus, eh?” He asks, his eyebrows waggling with what his drunken mind must think is seductiveness. 

You stifle a giggle and shake your head no. “‘Fraid not. He’s not been gone long, but I’m happier for it.”

“Oh, and so am I, fair lady.” You shake your head with amusement. He’s nearly charming with all of his limitless swagger. “Now, I’ve just been cooped up in a camp with about fifty men with mugs nearly as ugly as these,” he motions towards the gang and you let out another unbidden laugh. “Would you care to dance with me?”

Your brows furrow, a disbelieving smile on your face. Leaning in, as though you’re sharing a secret, you tell him, “There’s no music.”

He pulls a little bit back from you, meeting your eyes as your breaths mingle with proximity. “Are you sure?” He asks, a mischievous look on his face. 

You find yourself frowning in confusion, and then, almost as though they had planned it, Dutch puts a record on. It’s scratchy on his worn player, but the music fills the camp as he leads Molly into a sway. 

Your lips part in astonishment and you forget for a moment just how close the two of you are. If anyone else saw, they’d think you were going to kiss. “How did you know he was going to do that?”

He waves you off and leans back. “Magician can’t reveal and all that,” he dismisses. “Now, a dance?”

You’re charmed by him, as much as you hate to admit it. Perhaps he doesn’t have quite the same effect on you as Arthur. But he’s handsome in his own way. Besides, who are you to deny a magic man a dance?

You let him lead you towards the fire and he draws you close. You’re surprised when his hand stays firmly on your waist and he keeps a nearly respectable distance between you both. You’re still what modern society would call a scandal, but this is nothing for a gang of outlaws. 

“I’m sure I’ve never met you before. Where did they find you?” Sean spins you out and then twirls you back into his arms with a flourish that makes you breathless. You almost ask him where he learned to dance before you remember to answer his question. 

“Up in the mountains. Some O’Driscolls came through, killed my friend’s husband, and kept us in a cellar.” You’re no longer surprised how easy it is for you to admit something like that. You’ve become desensitized to situations like your own the longer you’ve been in camp. 

“O’Driscolls,” Sean’s face twists up with distaste and he shakes his head. “Nasty business.”

You scoff, “You’re telling me.” Sean’s gaze drifts behind you and the little color on his pale skin drains. It makes the freckles speckling his cheeks stand out remarkably. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Cutting in, MacGuire,” a rough voice calls out from behind you. Your feet still from where they’d been following Sean’s lead and you risk a glance over your shoulder. Arthur paints a fearsome portrait against the night sky. Impassioned by the sight of him, with the brim of his hat tipped low and the fire casting shadows across him, you hastily drop Sean’s hands and step back from him.  “I’d go find your lady if I were you,” Arthur instructs Sean.

Confusion swirls through you before you spot a very angry, very drunk Karen walking past. “Rotten Irish bastard,” she mutters under her breath, shooting both you and Sean a nasty look. Sean chases, taking quick steps towards Karen without another word to you. 

“Karen, it meant nothing, sweetheart. I only wanted a dance!” You let out a loud laugh as you watch him scramble after her. 

“He’s a damn fool,” Arthur says through a chuckle, walking closer towards you. You smile, turning around and flicking the brim of his hat up so he doesn’t seem so imposing. 

“You stole my dance partner, Mr. Morgan.” You accuse lightly, pretending to be cross with him. 

He rolls his eyes with an attitude you rarely see from him. “I did you a favor. You don’t want to get involved with Sean.”

“No,” you tell him, “of course I don’t. I was only dancing. Can’t do that anymore now, can I?”

Arthur’s mouth opens and closes before he lets out a huff. “Well, you two seemed awful close. I thought that-” he cuts himself off and you frown. 

You were only teasing him. Had he actually thought you were interested in pursuing Sean? You’d barely known the boy an hour. You pause, taking a step back and really getting a good look at Arthur. His shoulders are tense, though, not as tense as they had been a moment ago. The anger on his face, when he approached, had been real and not just the fire playing tricks. 

The pieces connect one by one and you find yourself astonished. Arthur Morgan had been jealous over you. 

That had to mean something. You couldn’t be reading into something like this. You might be a little desperate, but you weren’t a fool. You feel a flutter in your stomach and swallow down nerves. “Dance with me?” You ask, in a breathy whisper, sounding much more confident than you are. 

His eyes widen and he grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m no good at stuff like that.”

You bite down your smile and lean forward, taking his hand in your own. They’re rough against the smooth surface of your palms but you relish in the feeling. “Neither am I. It was the one class I never managed to get the hang of in finishing school.”

You coax him forward slowly, drawing him into you and guiding his hand a little lower on your waist than you should. He takes your other hand in his own and leads you into a slow dance. It’s barely anything more than a sway, but you still feel exhilarated. 

Even with the warning, it’s still a little surprising how awful you both are at dancing. “Even if you're stepping on my toes Arthur, I’m still much happier to be dancing with you,” you tell him, sincerity coating your throat like honey. 

He looks away from you and sighs. “Don’t have to say that.”

Your brows furrow and you tilt your head, catching his eye. “Why would I lie?” He doesn’t respond, caught off guard by the question. 

“Well,” he starts slowly, finally facing you again. He laughs a little at himself and shakes his head, “I don’t know why you would.”

“Because I wouldn’t,” you retort. “I don’t want to dance with anyone else, Arthur.” You know that sometimes he doesn’t always catch the hidden meaning, but you’re hoping he understands this time. You don't know if you could be any more brazen than you currently are.

His brows furrow and you can practically see the dots connecting when you begin to hear it. Low grunting noises, something almost like a whimper, slip out of the closed flap of John’s tent. You both pick up on it at the same time, movements slowing until you come to a complete stop. You stand, tucked into Arthur’s chest, and listen to what seems to be two people having a lot of fun. 

“Is that-”

You’re cut off by a very loud, “Sean!” You gasp, hand covering your mouth as your eyes widen. 

“Oh, Karen,” he sounds on the verge of tears and you practically have to bite your tongue to not laugh. You bury your face in Arthur’s chest, feeling it shake as he lets out a loud chuckle. “I’ve missed you so much!” You hear him begin to cry and force yourself to turn away before they hear you both laughing at them. 

“Oh,” Arthur’s face screws up with disgust but he’s still laughing. “That’s just awful. Come on,” he keeps your hand in his, tucking you under his arm as he leads you away from the tent. He snags a bottle of something off a nearby crate as he guides you toward the trees bordering the camp. 

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we don’t have to listen to that,” he mutters, nodding back toward the sinful tent. You clench your eyes shut, trying not to picture what the two of them are doing. 

You feel your feet sink a little, mud lifting around the edges of your boot. You reach to lift your skirts, out of instinct, before you remember you’ve got your new pants on. It makes you smile a little, living without the weight of your old clothes. 

“Arthur,” you stumble into his back as you trip over a branch and he quickly rights you. “Were you jealous?” You don't give much lead-up, hoping to shock the truth out of him. 

He pauses and turns back to look at you. You smile a little impishly at him and he lets out a long-suffering sigh. “This way, woman,” he grumbles, tugging you towards a thinner patch of trees. You find yourself squeezing his hand absentmindedly, liking the comfort of holding it.

The moon illuminates your path forward and you feel your heart jump up to your throat. He’s led you to a small cliff face, a spot just large enough for the both of you, that feels incredibly intimate. The moon almost creates a halo around the area, lighting it up more than anywhere else in the forest. 

Arthur lets go of you to tug off his coat. He places it on the ground and motions for you to sit. So used to fending for yourself and always being the last priority, something as simple as that has your heart skipping. “You didn’t answer my question,” you tell him as you take a seat. 

He sits beside you, knee brushing against your thigh as he pops open the bottle of whiskey he’d swiped. He twirls it around in his hand for a moment before he places it down beside himself. Your stomach dips when he turns towards you, eyes intensely meeting your eyes. 

You almost want to look away, the blue of them too intense to face. There’s honesty in his gaze and an intention you can’t recognize that forms a lump in your throat. “Yes. I was.”

Your lips twitch and you shake your head, slightly bewildered by how easily he admitted that. “I’m jealous every day I don’t get to call you mine,” he adds.

You used to be someone else’s. First, you were your father’s toy and then your husband's. When they called you theirs it was always with the intention of owning and using you. But it feels different with Arthur. It feels like handing him your bruised heart and knowing he’ll keep it safe. He says those words, and finally, you know that someone other than yourself is looking out for you. 

His hand comes up, gently brushing some hair off your cheek and drifting down to the nape of your neck. You lean forward, following his guidance, as his head dips down. Your lips meet, and the warmth emanating from him makes you realize this is truly happening. 

Cold from the stone below you seeps through his jacket and chills your legs. The feeling only further intensifies the startling realization that this is real. This isn’t one of your silly little fantasies. He’s kissing you and you aren’t doing anything.  

You sit before him, stiff as a stone, not kissing him back or showing him any sign you’re enjoying this. He picks up on that and you can already taste the apology on his lips as he begins to pull back from you. So you dart forward, clumsily pushing your lips up against his before you completely ruin your chance. 

He laughs against your eager lips, but you feel his relief in the way his shoulders slump and he relaxes back into you. One of his hands drifts down towards your waist, tugging you slightly closer, and you could melt into the feeling of him holding you. 

He tightens his hold around you, drawing you back ever so slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “You sure you want to get involved with me? It ain’t gonna be easy.”

Unwilling to part for so long, you close the distance between the both of you and finally, let yourself give in to the sensations of this moment. His palm drifts into your hair and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. 

Perhaps due to his gruff outlaw exterior, you’d had the misguided notion that he wouldn’t be a good kisser. Men like himself seem like the type not to enjoy something as simple as a kiss. They’re used to just getting right to the point. You’re happy to discover just how wrong you were. 

Those romance books Mary-Beth devours always describe something fleeting. There’s always fireworks going off as the two people you’ve been reading about finally kiss. This isn’t like that, there isn’t a spark that reignites a cold heart. You feel safe and comforted, like you’re finally coming home. This feels real, not like some passionate moment shared between two people that will never last.

Arthur pulls back, reluctantly, and you both catch your breath. “We should probably head back soon,” he whispers, eyes trained on your lips.

You nod your head, “Probably.” Neither of you goes to move, instead you tighten your hold on one another, basking in the moment of finally having what you’ve been coveting for so long.

Next Part end. — I do not own the characters or the game Red Dead Redemption 1/2, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Hell Hath No Fury Taglist: @buckysblondie @littlebirdgot @heloixe @summerdazed @committingcrimes-2047

@m1stea @pokiona

[notlhecxzsa]

I'd Marry You With Paper Rings - N.R

Summary: Natasha is many things but a person who knows comfort and care. But, with you, why does it come off naturally? As if, all her life, it is what she was trained to do—to you and only for you. She could feel it on the way home and her friends surely could hear it in the silence, but things happened. Would she still be the greatest warrior in this game of terror and save you or...?

Author's Note: Ahhhh, finally, here we are! 5k words, not proofread (im really sorryyy, i wanted to give it to you quickly since you guys have been bombarding me ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ)

Warnings: simp!natasha, soft!natasha, tooth rotting fluff, happy y/n=happy natasha, ahhh Beefy!natasha, literally the calm before the storm, Y/n having some adult... thoughts about Natasha's hands

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

3rd Person's POV:

Natasha was never the one to show sympathy, maybe for her friends who treated her more like a family than her own. They are the boundary between Natasha's humanity and Natasha's out of this world characteristics of a human.

Not that Natasha would care enough if millions of people would see her as a monster—hell she doesn't even care enough about the downfall of hundreds of companies before hers while she makes it to the top.

But, even with all that, it doesn't mean that Natasha doesn't tend to show her once in a blue moon kindness. Not 'show' show, as it is often done through the dark, in the silence of her name being labeled as anonymous. Doing things like donating half of a million to different charities—giving extra when it is Christmas.

Even so, Natasha couldn't careless to hear how grateful those people are for her, already being contented when Maria would say that it was already given.

All that only for her to show such care for a girl she was forced to marry—the same girl that caught something inside her she didn't know existed. How could she? When all she's ever known is how to hold a gun? How to fight raw with her trembling body until she passed a test that no teenager should got through? How to not prioritize how she feels?

She's grown to believe that her calloused hands are never meant to hold someone so dearly. For her mouth that ended life after life to never speak with such care and mold with gentleness. For her mind that only craved for revenge and thought of unholy things to and never those comforting words that left her mouth when she spoke to you.

Never believed that her heart could ever feel things that she felt for you.

"Do you want some juice to go with that?" She analyzed you carefully, as if you would break even with just a wrong glare of a pair of eyes.

She reminded herself to make up those words that left her mouth with a certain gentleness—witnessing how you would tensed visibly when she or Maria would speak out of nowhere, especially after what happened 3 days ago.

"N-no... water's good." You spoke quietly, looking at her briefly before you focused on the food again.

Natasha stood up, going to the fridge to get the orange juice that she often sees you pouring yourself with before eating. Also pouring herself one, she brought those two tall glasses on the table, offering you a small smile that she seemed to be wearing oh so often whenever you would look at her.

"T-thank you..." She watched as a certain light sparked in your eyes, almost the same one she found herself yearning to get a glimpse of again.

Clearing her throat, Natasha was close to feeling embarrassed with how long she set her gaze on you, turning back on her food once again. "Maria bought some fresh fruits earlier, you can just get some in the fridge if you would want." She said before taking a bite of the rotisserie chicken you made.

Even with all your energy seemed to be wiped off of the face of the earth, you still managed to give her the best of your cooking and never failed to make her stomach grumbled in happiness. Natasha could swear that all the foods you make is enough to make her work non stop without being tired, but she would never tell anyone that.

Even if the foods you make are against her diet and workout routine.

But, then again, she would never ever tell a soul about that.

Natasha saw in her peripheral vision how you only nodded, a very small tight lip smile—almost invisible, stretch its way out of your face, but still, Natasha could clearly see that.

Inhaling a bunch of air quietly, Natasha shook her thoughts away and decided to eat in silence once again. "Mr. Clint and the others... when will they come here?" Natasha heard you asked quietly.

"Oh... I don't know..." Natasha answered, gazing up to your face only to notice how you shoulder deflated. "It's been so busy in the company, but I'm sure they'll come visit soon." She almost cringed with how she rushed to add that answer, but felt a wave of contentment when she saw you nodded.

Having small conversations with Natasha seemed to become easier these past few days, and you are more than happier to entertain it while it lasts. Pushing aside your shyness, taking advantage of every seconds talking with her.

Silence once again covered the atmosphere before she heard you clear your throat and started to talk. "W-when are we getting married?" A question that never left your mind ever since you got there, having no idea what no idea what will even happen.

Or how things will happen. It felt right to ask that—to talk to Natasha about the barely spoken matrimony that will be happening to the both of you, or what you thought to be happening.

Natasha stopped moving, it felt as if her blood also stopped flowing. What Yelena said came rushing inside her head, feelings and emotions came clashing with each other in just a mere split of a second.

You didn't know. You never knew.

"Uh..." Natasha started speaking, not wanting her silence to bring more questions inside your naive mind. Remembering how she sometimes treated you so low just because of the forced marriage that came upon her door. You are more of the victim than she was in this. "My parents... and yours, are still working on it." She offered you a glance, not knowing if she's trying to reassure herself you're believing her.

You slowly nodded, looking at her in the eyes. "Hmm, okay... we just... haven't really talked about it... and I- I mean, I..." You slowly looked down, as if it makes you feel embarrassed to admit what you were about to say. "I just wanted to... uhm, know more..." Looking at her through your eyelashes, the same look that makes Natasha's heart wince with something she would never dare to name what.

Natasha nodded, not knowing anymore what to say. She is a woman full of words, knowledge and everything.

Shame on her parents for giving her the only person who could bring her to her knees, but that would be something that Natasha will never let herself admit, even to herself.

She just knows that she will think of something about the case of your marriage. Something that doesn't involve disappointing you more than you might already have.

Thinking of an escape, she inhaled, remembering the question she wanted to ask ever since she watched you too long while you were gazing out in the balcony. "Would you like to get out of here?" Your gaze snapped up at her, your eyebrows raised in an adorable manner—well, Natasha thought so.

"Go...? Out?" You asked as if in disbelief.

You've never be out of this huge penthouse ever since you step a foot in here—not like you weren't also caged back in Hawaii.

"Yeah..." Natasha answered, cutting herself a piece of the chicken as if she just asked something casual. For othe first time, she was gonna take you out. Not like how she felt when she saw you longingly look out in the window. "You know... mall? or, wherever you want to go."

It made you feel giddy, having to finaly roam the place you only gaze at on the big windows and spacious balcony that Natasha has inside the penthouse. "Yes." Natasha could hear the visible high pitched tone in your voice, making her heart swell hearing a certain joy in your voice.

Looking into your eyes, you're surprised to see how a small smile could reach her green eyes. "Would you like to go out today?" Your mouth was agaped, looking at the clock.

"N-now?" You asked, hesitating. As if you're not believing what she was saying.

"Yeah, I mean, if you're in the mood. But, if you're not, I'm sure I can settle my busy schedule for you." Oh how she would do anything to spend time with you—what she would do to give you everything.

Perking up, you dismissed her offer, your hands clasping together in front of you as if you're pleading to her. "No!" Her small smile slowly stretched widely. "We can go now, Natty!" If you were both in a cartoon show now, the way her ears perked up at the nickname would be visble, almost as visble as the flush spreading from her neck up to her cheeks.

You didn't seem to mind the adorable nickname you've just given her, she thought. So, she kept it behind her thoughts, noting to deal with it later—when you're out of sight.

"Are you sure?" She said, slowly taking a bit of the food, as if it was to hide her smirk.

You head shook up and down, Natasha couls see how tight you're gripping the utensils beside your plate like a chile. How you're trying to suppress a huge smile she wished she could force out of you. "Yes... yes, Natty."

God, shame on her parents for giving her the only person who could bring her to her knees—who could make her do impossible things.

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~^~°^~°

Natasha glanced at the back of your head for the nth time, only to avert her gaze on the road. Not sure if it was because of the fear of getting caught or the new rule she made earlier. Always keep you safe.

"There's a park near at the 2nd stoplight ahead..." She started, her pointed gaze staying on the road but she could see how you turned to look at her. Did she forced herself not to gaze back into your awaiting eyes that sparkles as if she held the stars in the sky? "But, there's also a Mall a few blocks away from it with an amusement park behind it. Many options are laid out everywhere, where would you like to go?"

As she explained, her tone was surprisingly soft. Not the one she would use to her people—not even the one she would use to her friends and especially to her family.

"I-I don't... Where do you want to go?" She heard you say, as if scared to make a decision. A decision that's big. There was a certain edge in your tone, but she could hear it from the tip of your tounge.

She had seen your eyes that big ferris wheel from her balcony, always facing the way towards it as if your biggest wish is too touch it from miles away.

She turned to look you in the eyes, taking advantage of the red lights stopping the motions of the flowing cars. Your hair was down, a spectacle hanging on the arch of your nose, since you were having a headache earlier as you said, saying it just might be your visionary problems, she watched as you put it on.

"You choose, detka. I promise, I'm fine with wherever you want to go, yeah?" She said ever so gently before reaching out to pat your head, as if you were some child.

Natasha is good with so many things, really, but not when it comes to physical touch. Only knowing how to knock out people with a punch and kill with a gun.

She watched as you look down and fumbled the ends of your blue dress, that fits oh so perfectly well with your body, hugging all its curve. It took her all the will power she has to not check you out and make it weird with hwo long she was staring earlier. Only if you knew what you do to her.

She averted her gaze when her eyes catch a couple of faint bruises that seems to be healing already. It kept her awake at night wondering what your body has been through for the bruises to stay for that long.

She was surprisingly happy when she saw you wore a dress, even with the cardigan on top that you forgot to wear earlier, giving her a chance to see you. Clearly, Natasha would rather for you to take it off, but she found herself prioritizing you as her heart ached seeing you fumble the cardigan, fastening it around you.

Whatever you're comfortable with. She thought.

She caught herself staring at your lips a little too long before averting her eyes and inahling deeply, making sure she's quiet while doing so.

"How about we go to the park first? After that, we can eat at the mall and if you would like to buy something, we can do that also?" She caught in her peripheral vision how you snapped your head towards her, making her turn to you once again, hoping for time to slow down. "Then after that, we can go around the amusement park and do whatever you want?" She watched as you took in everything she said, with that same expression you always wear whenever she's talking.

The same one that makes Natasha feel so seen... and heard.

She's a woman of her words, giving people no choice but to listen, obey and watch everything that she does. But with you, it feels different.

You nodded, giving her a small shy smile before settling your hands on your lap. "I'd like that."

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

Y/n's POV:

Clutching the cardigan in one hand, I hold the melting ice cream in the other that Natalia had bought me. It made me laugh thinking that she might've been reading my mind since I was just looking at the ice cream truck, with so much longingness to get a taste and she insisted on buying the both of us.

We walked side by side, letting her lead me as my eyes trailed everywhere. My heart jumps in happiness at every person I see, every structure that fascinates me, and every joyful moment I witness.

This scenery can't be seen from the balcony at the penthouse—god, how much I wish I could see it from there.

"Here..." Turning to look at her, I saw her wiping the bench with her bare hands for any invisible dirt before standing up straight. "Sit. We could see everything from here and so your feet won't get tired also." She explained, wiping her hand from the back of her pants.

I smiled, suddenly feeling giddy for some reason. She waited until I was seated, taking a seat beside me, unconsciously making me get a whiff of her expensive perfume that I grew accustomed to. I could smell it everywhere in the penthouse, making it weirdly feel more... comfortable.

"Thank you, Natalia." I mumbled, looking at her even though she just kept her gaze towards the scenery in front of us, only nodding as she ate her ice cream that is almost finished already. I haven't even eaten mine halfway!

I rummage through my small sling bag, taking out a hand sanitizer and bumping it to her biceps that are finding inside a black polo that she paired with some slacks. "Your hands are dirty, you shouldn't have wiped the seat." I murmured, catching her gaze for a moment before taking the sanitizer.

I took her ice cream so she could use both of her hands. "Oh, thanks." I heard her say almost inaudibly and she went on to sanitize her hands. "You could've gotten dirt on your dress, detka. It's light." She said, and I only shrugged, nodding as I watched her hands while licking the ice cream.

Even her hands looked so expensive. I found myself staring at it for too long, feeling something I've never felt before. I bet it would be larger than mine. The veins around it are visible, but it didn't change how... cool I see it.

"You have beautiful hands, Natalia." I blurted out, offering her a small smile as I showed my adoration.

I caught a glimpse of her throat's movement of swallowing, as her gaze snapped to mind. She didn't smile but kept her lips in a tight line and nodded a little. She's the one who put the sanitizer back in my bag before taking her ice cream as I lick mine, catching her eyes sticking to the movements I made before looking back towards the scenery in front of us.

I did the same, minding how she cleared her throat a couple of times and the way her shoulder moved as she inhaled deeply.

"Do you often go here?" I asked, and her head moved to the side, not meeting my gaze but a sign that she listened to me and is paying attention.

I watched as she shook her head. "Hmm, no. It's my first time here. I just passed by the same road on the way here very often." Narrowing my eyes, I was surprised.

"What? Really?" If I lived here before, this would be my favorite place! There's a breathtaking fountain in the middle, trees surrounding the area that provides fresh air, food truck vendors littering almost everywhere. "I'd go here everyday, that's for sure." Giggling a little, I stared at my ice cream, looking at the certain side that is already melting and licking it all the way up, tilting my head to the side as I did so.

While doing that, I caught Natalia's gaze since her head is still facing sideways. Once again, her eyes stick to the movements I made before she looked away as if my gaze shot laser beams at her face.

Clearing her throat once again, she answered, "You like it that much?" She said, already finishing off the cone.

I nodded even though she couldn't see me with a smile playing on my face. "I love it." I said with a certain enthusiasm that I made sure she heard.

Her head moved in satisfaction. "Good."

"Why do you not come here?" I asked further, checking if I'm not annoying her with my questions.

"Hmm, not the... kind of places I like to go to." She confessed and I slowly nodded, jumping in to reply.

"We could go now if you would like." I offered, watching the side of her face.

I found myself almost insecure with how well defined her face is, her nose is so perfect and how her lashes seemed to be so well cut even though it's so full.

Her eyes met mine, only then did I realize how intently I was staring at her. My gaze fell down on her lips that looked as soft as the clouds to avoid her eyes. "No—I mean, it's fine... I'm enjoying it." She gave me a smile that warms my heart, it felt like I was hugging Tamtam.

Nodding with a content smile on my face, I caught how her gaze on me softened a little more before I looked back at the scenery and finished my ice cream.

I am loving this day more and more!

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

I felt a hand circling around my waist as we walked inside the mall—a very huge one, and seemed to be so expensive. There are a lot of luxurious brands around that I have seen my Mom and Dad have back at home. There were a lot of guards more than usual when we entered the place, but it seems like it was normally like that as Natalia guided me inside.

There's so many people, but it's not crowded either. It doesn't look like the malls that Lucy would take me to. It could not be an ordinary mall.

"Would you like to buy something? Or should we eat first, hmm?" Turning to look back at Natalia who was looking around the area, only then did I realize how close she is to me, but I didn't make a big fuss about it—finding it rather... comforting.

"I-I..." Looking around, I caught a glimpse of restaurants that seemed to be very expensive too. Well dressed people going in and out, walking past us. "I don't know, Natty..." My attention is getting everything and capturing everything.

Not used to going out and being with so many people in foreign places is not something that felt comforting to me, though it is not bad either. Things just tend to... overwhelmed me.

"Okay, how about we eat first hmm? Then we can go buy whatever you want." I felt a hand tucking the strands of my hair behind my ear, out of my face making me look back at the owner of the same calloused hand.

She's smiling down at me, urging me to make a decision but doesn't make me feel pressured at the same time. "I'd like that, Natty." I said, grinning up at her as I clutched her hand.

"Okay then, come on, detka. I have a favorite restaurant around here, you'll like it." We started walking as she pulled her hand away from mine but kept her other hand around my waist, keeping me close.

"Oh, you go here a lot?" I asked, looking up at her.

Without returning my questioning gaze, she answered. "I own the Mall."

°~^°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

"Ms. Romanoff."

"Good afternoon, Madam."

"Great to see you again, Ms. Romanoff."

Greetings after greetings from people from the restaurant and until now in a very big shopping area where she lead me. I smiled through it all even though I haven't heard them saying my name, noticing as Natalia did not even seem to acknowledge all of it, only nodding in the air.

"You pick whatever you want, alright?" She said to me, leaning down as her hands stayed put around my waist, as if whispering a secret. "Here..." She turned and pulled out a cart that was behind here.

"I-I..." Looking up at her hesitantly. "I don't think I need anything." It took her a moment to respond, looking at me with what seemed to be an amusement or surprised in her eyes.

It is true. I don't think I need anything. I have clothes. I brought a couple of my outside bags and shoes.

"It's..." She trailed off, making me look at her confusedly before she turned and motioned a person to come. They started talking, so I took the chance to wander my gaze around the floor, still staying in her hands that seemed to be glued around me.

There's so many... things in here. I feel like everything can be found here. Bags, alcohol, necessities, clothing, jewelry, I could also see a food shop at the end of a hall—just everything.

There were lots of workers too, buyers going in and out and around.

"...No, I want the best one. Give me the latest one you have..." I overheard Natalia talk but my attention quickly went to a stuffed toy that looked so cute! Oh god, now I missed my stuffies back at home.

I suddenly felt giddy and my hands itched to touch them. Thankfully, I brought my wallet with me and Natalia had insisted on paying for the earlier payments. Maybe I could buy her one too!

I turned to check on her if she's already done talking to the man, as soon as I heard them finishing up the conversation, tha man walked away and I quickly tugged on Natalias arm. "Natty." Her gaze immediately went down to meet mine, her eyebrows narrowing in question. "Can I go over there?" Turning as I point towards the pack of stuffies that comes in different kinds, sizes and colors. "Please?" I added as soon as I look back to her, she was already looking at me with her lips turning upwards on one side—smirking.

"I mean—if it's okay with you—but if not! We can just go and look at some other things." I immediately said, pulling away from her.

Quickly, in return, she took ahold of my hand again. "Come on, detka." The cart on one hand and mine on the other, she tugged me towards it. "Would you like to buy those?" She asked as soon as we got near towards it.

Forgetting to answer, my hand quickly reached out to take a hold of the biggest one in the center before leaning towards it to give it a squeeze. "It's so adorable! It's so fluffy!" I squealed, making sure that only Natalia and I could hear. "Natty!" Calling out as I turned to look at her, "Come! Take a look—hold it, it's so fluffy!" Catching the smile from her face fade quickly as she stood up straight, looking around as soon as I reached my hand out.

"I don't—I don't think..." She sounded hesitant as she continue to look around, as if checking if people are looking at us, but as soon as her gaze met mine, her shoulder relaxed a little and I watch as a small smile stretch its way out of her face.

Taking my hand in hers as she walked slowly, I tugged her until she's just as  close to the stuffy as I am. "Squeeze it! Like this." I hugged the huge brown teddy bear, only to be stopped by a voice.

"Sorry, Miss, but you're not allowed to do that." It was flat and seemed to be upset, looking back I saw one of the worker here. She was looking at me with one of her eyebrows raised as her gaze trailed up and down my figure.

Quickly pulling away, I bowed my head down. "Oh! I'm-" I was going to start apologizing but Natalia's booming cold voice cut me off.

"Go. We will be buying this, don't worry." The woman stammered as soon as Natalia walked in front of me, putting her hands around my shoulder.

The woman stammered the apologies that slipped her mouth, walking away quickly after finishing. "N-Natty, I-I'm really sorry, I didn't know-" With my heart almost beating its way out if my chest, thinking that Natalia might have been so disappointed at my actions.

"Hey, hey, stop with those. Touch everything you wanna touch, try everything you want, don't mind them, alright?" I coyly looked up to her, my hands wringing together in hesitation.

"Come on now, pick what else you might like, okay? I'll get this delivered in the penthouse, I don't think it will fit with us in the car." Her small laugh made my smile, before I frowned.

"Wait, how much is this?—" Again, I was cut off.

"Something you shouldn't be worried about, baby." With that, she called a new worker and started discussing about the delivery transaction, leaving me gazing at her.

"Now, what else would you like?"

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

Natasha's POV:

"What- What is this?" Stopping my movements to start the car, I looked down to Y/n's outstretched hands with what seemed to be a wallet in her hold.

"You didn't let me pay..." She turned her head down, as if scared to meet my gaze. "I wanted to buy you those other stuffies earlier. Here, take my wallet and take how much it costs or... or... oh, also the other things that you got me from the store. It was so many and expensive, it might've cost you a lot." Looking back to me, she forced the wallet into my chest as I gaze at her in disbelief, smirking as I did so.

This girl never fails to surprise me. Chuckling, an idea came up to me.

Taking a hold of her arm, I took her wallet. "Those numbers comes back to my bank account every minute, darling. But... I'll take this." Her eyes widened a little as I put her pink wallet inside my blazer.

"Oh- a-all of it?" She asked, and I start the car.

"Yeah... all of it." Smiling at her as I pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, holding it on her lap.

The blush on her face didn't go unnoticed as I smiled, gazing towards the way.

"O-okay..." She settled down on her seat, both of her hands holding mine.

"Are you tired already, solnechnyy svet?" I could feel her confused gaze burning holes into the side of my head but I didn't bother explaining what the word meant just as she didn't bother asking what it is.

"Not really, no." I heard her say as she leaned back to the seat, gazing back at the road where the city lights laid out before us.

Looking towards her, catching a glimpse of how the lights reflected over her face. I could feel myself breaking a smile, which I let on, going back to looking at the road.

"Are you sure, detka?" I asked once more, my tone playful.

"I just want to rest already, but not yet sleepy." She explained, her voice soothing my ear.

"Hmmm." I hummed in acknowledgement. "Not yet sleepy. Alright, princess." I added, turning the wheel around the corner.

I felt a tug on my arm before she started speaking. "Can we watch a movie later?- I mean, only if-if you're not tired... but also if uhm- if you would like to. But, it's fine if you won't." Gazing back at her face, I reached my hand to caress the side of her face on the skin that I could reach for a few second, calming her down.

"We could do that, I'll cut more fruit for you for snack. I don't think Maria got us some popcorn." Before turning away, I catched how she perked up, making me smile unconsciously as my heart seemed to jump, which I ignored.

"That's awesome, Natty!" She said in delight. "I would really love that."

I have felt that killing people who deserved it is fulfilling. Watching companies and people burn down as they tried to pick up a fight with me brings the spark of happiness and contentment to my insides.

And, I never knew there will be much more greater things than that.

Now, I found out, only a voice is enough to explode such a thing inside me.

Enough to make me feel as if I'm on top of the world.

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

Author's Note: Ahhhh, finally! I apologize for making you all wait, I did see the multiples of asks that have been sent to me, I didn't have enough energy to answer them, I'm really sorry. I was sick for days, but I'm doing a lot better now! I also got the next chapter on the works already, and I'm sorry in advance for it 乁⁠༼⁠☯⁠‿⁠☯⁠✿⁠༽⁠ㄏ

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x stripper fem!reader

Mini-series summary: When Tangerine opened an underground strip-club to cover for his murder-for-hire business operation, he wasn't expecting to become so easily distracted by one girl in particular.

Chapter summary: Tension only intensifies after Tangerine's proposal and you and him grow much closer... (5k)

Warnings: SMUT (mdni), mentions of sex w*rk and slut shaming, pinv, insecure!reader, passionate sex, dom!tangerine and sub!reader undertones, praise, oral sex (f receiving), reader is kinda traumatized but tan is very sweet to her.

credit : my love @little-miss-dilf-lover 🤍

BAD FOR BUSINESS MASTERLIST

"She did what?" Lemon asks, his arms crossed, as he watches his brother finish counting the cash he always hands out on Sunday.

Tangerine doesn't look up, rounding up the envelopes quickly as he puts the cash inside. "She kissed my cheek," he says and sits up, running a hand in his hair. He looks exhausted. 

Lemon smirks, sounding scandalized. "And you're only telling me this now? Is this why she's been hovering around you since Monday?" 

"I don't know, Lem," Tangerine sighs.

"Well, aren't ya gonna elaborate on why she kissed you?"

"Kissed my cheek," Tangerine groans, shutting his eyes as he drops his head into his hands, "And I don't know why, I guess just because I drove her home. As a thank you, I suppose. Not a big deal, really—I don't know why I even mentioned it—" 

"Bullshit," Lemon sing-songs. "You're dancing around your feelings, as ya always do. You mentioned it because you want me to validate them, as per-fuckin-usual! To spell it out for you, as one says, as I have always fuckin' done. " 

"My feelings—or yours— aren't what's important here. It's hers and I don't know what she's feeling or thinking," Tangerine says and stands, taking the envelopes in his hand. "And anyway, I'm her boss. It's an abuse of power, innit?"

Lemon pauses for a moment and then shrugs, "Who cares if she has feelings for you too?" 

Tangerine narrows his eyes, very unsure, "I care. It still sounds scummy," he says and then hands Lemon the envelopes. "Drop these in the mailbox would ya?" He pauses and then he takes back the one with your name scribbled on the front. "Could you tell Y/n to come up here? I need to tell her something."

Lemon sends him a knowing look and a smile curls his lips. 

"Not like that," Tangerine deadpans, clearly unamused as he fiddles with the envelop anxiously, "She needs more money and she wants more shifts. I don't want that for her, you know she doesn't deserve that, not after what happened, so I'm just gonna give her a little extra cash—" 

Lemon's smile fades instantly. He looks at his brother with concern, "Mate, Leo won't like that—you really should be careful with—" 

Tangerine cuts him off, his expression serious. "I can handle Leo, Lemon, will you please just ask 'er to come up here?"

Lemon doesn't seem convinced but he nods. Tangerine looks down, gripping his desk and he collapses onto his chair again, holding his head in his hands. Why does Lemon have to question him all the fuckin' time? His jaw tenses, trying to shake the thought that his brother could have a point. 

He's lost in his thoughts when he hears your sneakers squeak up the stairs and then a knock on his office door. Instantly, he stands, trying to hide his smile as he calls out, "Come in, darlin'." When you do and he sees you, you're dressed in a blue dress that ends mid-thigh, a jacket, and laced-knee-high white socks. You really do look like anyone's wet dream, even when you aren't trying. Tangerine's cheeks burn and he represses the feeling. 

"Hi," you say, walking up to him.

Since the night he'd driven you home, you'd been less on edge with him. You've both had longer conversations and more stolen glances than you've ever had. Hell, he's even been spending some of your breaks with you. And he knows using the smoking excuse won't last forever.

He knows it and so do you, but neither of you mention it. 

"Hi," Tangerine says. He leans against his desk, his eyes roaming over you. His thumb swipes over the envelope and he clears his head, handing it to you, "Here's your pay." 

You look confused when you take it. Usually, he just puts those in the common mailbox. He has never handed one out personally. "Oh, thanks," you say and smile up at him. You open the bag that's hanging from your shoulder and tuck the envelope inside. 

Tangerine's eyebrows crease and he walks behind his desk again, looking for something in the drawer. 

You watch him curiously. "Tan, are you okay?" 

The nickname rolls off your tongue easily and an involuntary shiver runs up his spine. He almost regrets telling you you can call him that, if only because it makes him lose his mind just a little more than he usually does when he's around you.

Tangerine pauses as he thinks for a moment. He looks up, his expression still neutral as he walks back over and hands you a wad of bills. Your heart thumps as you take the money, even more confused. You flick your thumb over the paper, approximately counting how much it is. 

"What is this?" you ask, realizing there is almost four times the amount you make in a night in your hands. 

"A bonus," Tangerine says calmly as if this is nothing. "You said you're tryin' to save up for school and I don' want you workin' here any more than ya have to." He looks away, straightening himself. If he looks at you any longer, he'll break. "It's really nothin'," he adds.

"Nothing? This is a lot of money," you whisper, pushing the bills out to him again, "I can't accept this for no reason." 

Tangerine looks down at you, his eyes darkening a little as he shakes his head. His hands clasp around your wrists, his skin cold against yours, as he pushes your hands into your chest again. "You can."

"No, I- I really can't," you squeak, a little panicked. You don't know what this means. If this is really unconditional or if it will somehow bite you back in the ass. You trust him, sure, but he is still a man. You look down at the cash and then up into his eyes, your cheeks feeling unbearably warm. "D-do you want something in return?"

You're unsure about the question, but it wouldn't be the first time someone who is your boss has asked you for some extra services. 

Tangerine's cheeks immediately turn crimson and he drops your hands as if you'd burned him. "No!" he says hoarsely like he can't believe you'd even ask him that. "Bloody hell, no. That is not what I want!" He sounds almost scandalized and you panic. 

"Sorry! I assumed—"

"Well, don't! God, angel, you deserve so much better than that," Tangerine says breathlessly as if the words escape him in a rush. You pause, staring up at him as he says this, and those familiar butterflies you only feel when he's around burst in your stomach.

He always speaks so softly when you're around, always calling you darling or angel—it's seriously beginning to mess with your brain. 

"Just, take the money, please," Tangerine insists, "no strings attached."

You nod, adding the cash to your bag without another word. You pause and look up at him. You want to ask why he's doing this? What makes you so special? But instead, you ask something else; 

"What do I deserve?" 

Tangerine is a little taken aback by the question, his body going taut as he stares at you. "Pardon?"

Your chest tightens as you walk closer to him. You have no clue what you're doing. Men are usually so easy to read, so easy to seduce, and so very easy to fool.

With one look, you can have them wrapped around your little finger. But with Tangerine, it's completely new. You have no clue what works with him or what you even want from him. All you know is, you've never felt like this with anyone. Tangerine backs up. He inhales, clutching the edge of the desk as his breath hitches and his gaze stays on yours. 

"You said I deserve better," you whisper, dropping your bag to the ground. As if on cue, the lights from the lounge suddenly dim and you realize everyone else has gone home for the night. What are you even doing? You pause in front of him, your chest rising and falling as you lift your hand to press your palm on his chest. 

"What is better?"

Tangerine looks at you. His eyes are dark. He's not a stupid man. He knows what you're doing. He knows what you want. He just doesn't know if you even understand exactly what it is you're asking of him.

He's not used to feeling powerless so he stands up straighter and cups your jaw with his hand. He's still gentle with you; his fingers touching your skin reverently and loosening when you gasp in surprise.

"Why do ya do this?" He counters, his voice raspy. He pushes his body even closer to yours until he's so close he can smell you and fuck, you smell divine. 

"Do what?" you ask. 

Tangerine tilts his head, smirking, "You know what," he whispers and leans down so his lips hover near the shell of your ear, "Entertain men for money—bring them into that filthy little room," he pulls his head away a moment and glances towards the glass where he has an easy view of the door to one of the club's sex rooms, "and drain their fuckin' pockets. Hm?" 

Your stomach flips and your skin feels burning hot. Is he making fun of you? You try to shift your face from his hold but Tangerine doesn't let you. He looks at you and reads you like a book. "'M not making fun of you or calling you a slut, angel. I don't think you are one, you know that. Which is why I'm confused. I'm real fuckin' confused about why the sweetest and the smartest girl I've ever met hides behind some string of lingerie and flirty touches. Ya need validation that badly?"

You frown, his words hurting a little. But, you've started this so you have to take it from him. You can. You've taken much worse from men. You look into his eyes and keep your voice level. "You have no damn clue about my life, Tangerine, so you should stop assuming you know me."  

He frowns. "Yeah, you're right. I don't know a damn thing about your life," he pauses, searching your face. His mind is spinning and his gaze drifts to your lips. "But I want to." He isn't lying. He does want to know and some primal part of him wants to help. He wants to provide for you, and take you far far away from this life. 

It's not safe and you deserve so much more. 

"Let me guess, you want to 'take care' of me?" You say behind a mocking voice, your face still in his hand. "You're not the first man who's said that to me."

Tangerine's frown deepens and he strokes his thumb over your cheek. "Well, I know damn well I'm the first one who fuckin' means it," he growls, and the pull he's been feeling finally works because he's leaning in and kissing you.

You're a little surprised but you wrap your arms around his neck, pushing yourself up against him as you return the kiss.

He's kissing you passionately, his hands sliding down your cheeks and sides until he's gripping your hips. You've kissed many men but none have felt like this. It feels both overwhelming and wonderful. You run your hands in his hair, pulling on his curls. 

Tangerine spins you around, sitting you on his desk as he continues to kiss you. He's well aware this is very much fucked, but he can't help himself. The sounds you make against his lips are making him lose his mind. He cups your cheeks again, kissing along your jaw gently. The kisses last until he feels your hand slide down his torso to the zipper of his trousers and he hisses, disconnecting his lips from your skin. 

He stops your hand, fingers curling around your wrist, and you gasp, eyes shooting open. "I'm so sorry," you whisper, your voice small. Tangerine pauses as he calms his breathing. He looks into your eyes, his gaze softening as he shakes his head.

"You don't need to do that," is all he says as you drop your hand back to your lap. 

"But I do want to," you interject. Tangerine just shakes his head, caressing your cheek. 

"No, angel, I can't," he tries to explain. 

"Is it because you think I'm dirty?" 

Tangerine frowns, looking at you seriously now. "What?"

"Because I've been with other men—because you must think I'm easy—" you say, your voice shaky, "I- I'm not. I haven't had sex for money in a while, I promise I don't do it anymore and—and I was always safe. Please– I'm not dirty—" 

Tangerine can hear your panic and he tightens his hold on your face, gently shushing you. "Angel, I don't think you're dirty. I know ya take precautions. I know how this industry works, remember? I fuckin' own the place," he says with some disdain and then sighs, "which is exactly the problem. Kissing you was already a boundary I shouldn't have crossed. I'm your boss. I'm supposed to be better than this."

You look at him, relaxing a little as you begin to understand. "Tangerine, I don't care. No one has to know." 

He frowns, sending you a warning look. 

"I'm serious," you say and play with his tie a little, squeezing your thighs. His kisses have turned you on and now he wants to pretend it never happened? 

No fucking way. 

"I won't tell anyone. Please, I want you. Show me what I deserve," you whisper, pulling him closer so he's leaning over you as you kiss along his jaw.

Tangerine groans, his eyes closing as he enjoys the sensation of your lips. He's slowly losing control. This feels so right and he desperately wants to show you how a man is supposed to touch you. How he's supposed to love and care for you. His hands grip your hips, pressing his nose in your hair as he inhales.

"Fuck, angel, you're gonna be the death of me," he whispers, his resolve finally breaking. Still, he pulls away and lifts you onto your feet. "But, not here. I'm taking you home, if you'd like," Tangerine questions and you nod, your heart pounding. He smiles and takes your hand, squeezing it to reassure you as he picks up your bag and guides you towards the door. 

During the drive to his apartment, the tension is palpable. You shift in your seat, your cheeks warm, hooking your fingers under your panties as you pull them down your legs. You bite your lip, hearing the small inhale from Tangerine as his hands clench around the steering wheel. He's desperately trying to stay focused on the road.

You look at him, smiling, as you wrap your panties around the gear shift of his car. The faint, delicate, smell of your arousal fills the air and Tangerine curses underneath his breath.

"You naughty fuckin' girl," he mutters in your ear as soon you arrive in his apartment, his large hands palming your waist. He kisses you up against the wall of his living room for a moment until he swiftly hoists you up into his arms, your legs wrapped around his torso and he walks you to his bedroom. "'M gonna have to teach ya a lesson, hmm."

You expect something rough and dirty. You're used to rough and dirty. But, with Tangerine it's different. It's always different. When he lays you on the mattress and slowly kisses every inch of your kiss as he undresses you, your head spins. No one you've ever been with has been this slow and gentle. He's touching you like he's worshiping you and can't help but feel a little self-conscious when he finally has you naked. You lift your arms to cover your chest. 

"Tsk, none of that," Tangerine scolds as he lifts his head from where he was kissing your stomach and takes your wrists in his hands, pushing them away so he can admire you. "Fuck, you're the prettiest girl I have ever seen." 

You turn your head, hiding a moan in his pillow. He'll deal with that later, he thinks, as he looks down at your bare pussy. "Can ya open your legs for me, my angel? Can I make you feel good? Is that okay?" 

Your head is spinning and you nod, parting your legs. Tangerine pushes your thighs up and apart, kissing your inner thigh. He sucks some hickies for good measure as you moan, your hands fisting in his silk sheets.

"Oh, T-Tan," you whisper when you feel his breath hit your clit, your legs trembling. 

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he whispers hoarsely and kisses your pussy, attaching his mouth to your clit. He takes his time with you, kissing and sucking. He listens to your cues, adjusting his position as much as you need him to. His mustache tickles your skin and you're a moaning mess.

You keep hiding the sounds you make out of embarrassment, either turning your head or biting your lip, and he's not having it. After tasting you, he climbs up over you and captures your lips in his. 

He wants you to taste yourself on his lips. You arch your back, unclenching your hands from the sheets as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Tangerine's hand slides up your inner thigh as he slides his fingers up and down over your slit, occasionally teasing your entrance. "Can I?" He asks for permission and when you nod, he pushes one finger into you. 

You gasp, your mind going hazy. "I- I want to make you feel g-good," you whimper, your eyes teary as you try to keep them open and keep being good for him.

You're usually so good at this. At sex. You're so good at being exactly what the man wants you to be but Tangerine doesn't seem to want anything for himself and it's confusing and all you can do is let him lead you. He smiles, kissing your cheeks.

"You already are," he whispers, adding another finger as he opens you up for him. There is no way in hell you're giving him head, not when he guesses that's how you've had to pleasure the men that come into his lounge. He shivers with disgust.

This is for you and he can enjoy himself without forcing his dick down your poor throat. 

He continues whispering sweet nothings in your ear as your nails drag along his back. Once you're wet enough and he's lost most of his clothing and slid on a condom he keeps in his dresser drawer, he presses his cock against your pussy.

Your small wanton moans are music to his ears and he's definitely enjoying himself as he slowly pushes into you, keeping his gaze on yours for any sign of reluctance or discomfort. He's taking his time with you, wanting to memorize every position he has you in as he tells you he wants to hear you.

"D-do you want me on top?" you suddenly ask out of habit, still determined to please him. Tangerine shakes his head, keeping his arm behind your head as he caresses your hair. He's balls deep inside you now, the sound of flesh against flesh ringing in your ears, and your voice is breathless. Your head hits the pillows with every thrust he makes as you struggle to keep your eyes on him.

"No," he says sternly, "Just keep your eyes on me. There, good girl. Enjoy yourself," his voice is thick and raspy. He keeps a steady rhythm, teasing you and watching you fall apart. The sound of the city from outside becomes white noise and Tangerine isn't sure how long he's been fucking you but the sky is slowly becoming lighter. 

"Tan," you whimper as you pull him closer, shutting your eyes as his forehead rests on yours. "'M close," you tell him, wrapping one leg around his hip as you bury your face in his neck, you keep suppressing your moans even when he's told you he wants to hear you. 

"You can come but I want to hear you, angel," Tangerine groans, feeling close himself. "Can you do that for me?" 

You whimper, catching his gaze as you nod. You arch up into him, breasts pressed to his chest as you moan. You barely even recognize yourself. You're so used to the fake moans that the real ones sound so foreign. 

"Fuck me," Tangerine curses, holding you close as one of his hands grips the headboard tightly. The sound of his bed creaking and hitting the wall fills his ears. He can feel you clench around him, moaning as you finish, which triggers his own release and he squeezes his eyes shut.

Your hands relax on his back, your moans subsiding as your chest heaves. Suddenly, everything is silent and he's not sure what to do. He doesn't want to scare you and he himself has never really had sex with anyone he cared about as much as he does you. This is all new and he feels like if he makes a mistake, he could lose you forever. 

"You okay?" he whispers, his voice shaky. 

You nod and he pulls out, pulling off the condom and quickly leaning over his bed to discard it in the trash not far from his bed. When he pulls himself back up, he adjusts the blanket so it covers himself. You do the same, sitting up and pulling as much of the blanket over you as you can. 

Neither of you speaks for a moment. You're both simply staring at each other. You can't believe you just had sex with your boss and what might be worse is that you don't regret it. You know you should, but you don't. You can't bring yourself to.

"Can I get you anything? Water?"

You shake your head, swinging your legs over the side of the bed as you stand. Tangerine hands you his shirt he'd thrown beside the bed and you wrap it around yourself. "'M just gonna pee," you whisper.

You don't wait for an answer as you walk past him. You wander to the bathroom you'd seen in the hall. As you button up the shirt, you have a strange feeling someone is watching you so you look up.

You let out a sharp scream when you see Lemon standing in the hallway, clearly half-asleep. Hearing your scream he jumps and screams too and rubs his eyes.

You hear stumbling and then Tangerine, only wearing his boxers now, practically throws himself past the doorway. He slides next to you, pushing you behind him on instinct. He's on edge until he sees it's just his brother and his shoulders relax. You finish up the buttons of the shirt, your cheeks burning hot as you are unable to speak or ask the questions you so desperately want to ask. 

"Well, this is a lovely surprise," Lemon sighs, rubbing his eyes as he yawns. "Ya both know it's almost 5 am, yeah?"

"Yes, thank you," Tangerine retorts, his voice strained as he glares at Lemon, "You can go back to sleep now." 

Lemon smirks, his eyes locking with yours. "Hi, Angel," he waves with a smirk.

Embarrassment washes over you.

You like Lemon, you've always liked Lemon. He was one of your favorite bodyguards. He always made you and the other girls laugh when situations became tense. You had no clue he lived with Tangerine. 

"Piss off," Tangerine hisses in a whisper you can clearly hear and Lemon raises his hand in surrender, using the bathroom first. Once the door shuts, Tangerine turns to you and you look completely mortified. "Hey, it's okay, he's my brother," he explains. 

"Your brother?" you whisper back, a little frazzled now. 

Tangerine nods, his hand tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear on instinct as he caresses your cheek. Thankfully, you don't flinch away from him as you're comforted by his touch. "Yeah, he's harmless."

You shake your head, moving past the brother's information to something more important. "Tan, he probably thinks you paid me! Oh god, this is horrible!" you whisper-shout, lowering your head in your hands. "He's gonna think I'm a whore and then he's gonna tell everyone at the club a-and–"

"Woah, darlin', shhh," Tangerine grips your shoulders, his voice still low so Lemon doesn't hear the conversation through the bathroom. "He definitely won't think that, okay? Trust me. And anyway, Lem isn't a gossip. He won't tell a soul."

"Ya, he's right, I ain't a snitch. My lips are sealed," Lemon interrupts, leaning against the bathroom door, zipping his mouth shut with an invisible zipper and Tangerine straightens up, turning back around to look at his brother.

Tangerine sends Lemon a don't scare her look and Lemon smirks. He looks at you and his gaze softens. "You better invite yer bird for breakfast, T." That is all Lemon says before he disappears back into his room down the hall.  

And so, an hour later, after neither you nor Tangerine could fall asleep, you're sitting at the small dining room table. Lemon is nursing a cup of warm tea while Tangerine butters up his toast. The air feels thick as you pick at the crumbs of your own, slightly burnt, toast, staring at the pink and yellow-checkered tablecloth on their living room table.

"It was our mums'," Lemon pipes up, watching you. "It's quite cheesy. Tangerine hates it." 

"I don't hate it. It was mums'," Tangerine interrupts, glaring at Lemon for a second but then his gaze returns to you and he clears his throat. You look up, smiling. Something in your chest flutters and you want to know more about them.

Lemon reads your mind. "Our foster mum was a gem," he says and looks at Tangerine and the latter nods, still quiet. He doesn't add on to the conversation and you don't want to pry. There is a sadness about Tangerine when Lemon speaks of their mum.

"My mum was a real piece of shit," you interrupt, unsure how to add to the conversation. You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a moment. It probably wasn't the best segment considering both of them are looking at you with confusion. You take a mouthful of your toast, feeling a little embarrassed. 

"So, why'd you become a stripper?"

Tangerine frowns, jabbing his elbow into Lemon's side as he hisses; "What is wrong with you?!"

You laugh, shaking your head, "It's okay, it's just a question." You drop your toast, avoiding their gazes. "It was to save up money for uni, and now well, to keep up with the cost—" your laugh becomes dry, "and it's harder to leave this business than it is to start."

Tangerine is quiet and his stomach twists. He feels an immense guilt as you talk.

"What are you studying?" Lemon asks, beating his brother to the question. 

"Criminology," you say, sipping your drink, "I want to go into law."

Both Lemon and Tangerine sneak a glance you don't see and the conversation continues to flow. Lemon clears his throat and makes a joke while Tangerine remains quiet as he watches you finish your food. He likes watching you laugh with Lemon, he'll take any opportunity to see your smile.

He glances at the clock, secretly praying the hand stops so he can spend more time with you but once you see the time, you're excusing yourself. 

"At least let the bastard drive you home," Lemon eventually calls from the sink as he finishes the few dishes, and Tangerine hands you your jacket as you stand in the entrance. "Tis the least he can do after shagging you." 

"Lemon!" Tangerine hisses angrily.

"My mouth is shut, I remember!"

You laugh again, smiling at their banter. "I won't say no to that," you quip with a smile and Tangerine's shoulders relax.

Once you're both in his car again, he glances down and sees your panties on his gear shift. A deep blush settles on his cheeks. "You can keep them," you say nonchalantly, not seeming bothered by your missing undergarment "as a souvenir." You wink. You're clearly joking. 

Tangerine pauses, hesitating, and then takes the panties stuffs them in his pocket and clears his throat. 

"I didn't know you and Lemon were brothers," you say, looking out the window for a second before he starts the car, "You never talk at work."

Tangerine nods, keeping his eyes on the road. "We do, sometimes, but we mostly keep it hushed. It usually isn't good to mix family and business, but we make it work."

You nod, smiling. "I understand. I think it's wonderful how close you are."

"Thank you," Tangerine says and looks at you from the corner of his eye, smiling too. Without another word, you lean over and kiss him. It's quick, your lips gliding over his as your hand touches his cheek. Tangerine hums against the kiss as you pull away and his eyes open to look into yours. 

"Is this okay?" you ask softly. 

Tangerine's head screams at him that no, this is indeed not okay, that this is dangerous and you should be as far away from him as possible, but his heart yearns for you and for once in his life, he doesn't want to ignore his heart.

He nods, kissing you again as he leans his forehead on yours. "Yeah, this is okay. More than okay." 

You smile, squeezing his hand. You feel like nothing could ruin this moment.

Suddenly, Tangerine's phone rings in the center console and he picks it up. The caller ID reads Leo and his jaw tenses. You settle in your seat, looking at him curiously. "Who is it?" you ask innocently, catching on to Tangerine's sour expression. 

Tangerine turns off his phone and stuffs it in his pocket. 

"No one. No one you need to worry about," he says, focusing on the road as he starts the car.

You hum, not wanting to pry but you can't shake the weird feeling bubbles in your stomach.

[creatur3featur3]

Street Rat p2

word count: 3.6k (WOO ON A ROLL LOVES!!)

A/N: DEFINITELY out of my writers block! only took about, 3 hours? usually takes me like a full day when i'm unmotivated but here we are!

----Enjoy Loves----

Okay so maybe you were following Sevika around for weeks on end now, but it wasn't exactly your fault- it was hers.

All that being nice and giving you food, or just being human and providing for someone who obviously couldn't take care of herself properly. She had been dying to get you off her tail with you following her like a stray dog constantly, you were ruining her reputation with your weird attachment to her. 

The regulars she played cards with gave you weird glances but she always seemed to scare them off from bothering you when you were digging around in people's dumped junk with a stern gaze. You definitely seemed to live up to your name of a street rat with your constant wandering off to find someone that shined under the dim lights of the Undercity’s lamp posts, she had even gotten you a small bag as well which had honestly surprised you.

You scoffed when she threw it to you, “Are you serious? I don't need this shit.” you spat sharply, god she wished she could rip that  sharp tongue out of yours out of your mouth. She set down her cup, whatever liquid she was drinking sloushing out.

“You think I don't see you storing your little trinkets out in dumped boxes? You're pathetic, the amount of times I've seen people swipe from your little stashes is ridiculous.” Your brow furrows at her words, you're not pathetic, you're smart, hell- brilliant even! “WELL, Miss.im so smart, i'll have you know I have many stashes around the city,”

“and how many of them stay full?”

you pause.

“...like.. three maybe…” you admit with a pout, “Then take the bag” she says sternly.

You grumble as you snatch the bag off the table, examining it with cold eyes but muttering a quiet “thank you” under your breath- then you're gone.

You choose not to stick around her during the day, too many eyes, you stay on the outskirts of the city- just like today. 

you squirm up the broken fire escape, trying your best to host yourself up with- little success. You hate to admit that Sevika’s ‘gift’ was actually pretty helpful, much more storage for cogs and other useful stuff- only downside is that you put way too much stuff in it.

“come on!-" You hiss under your breath as you hang onto the railing, trying to throw the bag up onto the floor of the fire escape so you can get yourself up. Such you were fit, your worked out a good amount, but.. your weren't exactly sure what to really work out.

The bag thudded onto the rusty fire escape with a loud clang, the sound echoing down the alleyway below. You winced, glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one had heard. The last thing you needed was some nosy thug poking around while you were mid-scramble.  

"Stupid bag," you muttered, wiping sweat off your brow. The thing had been helpful, sure, but damn if it wasn’t heavier than you thought it would be with all the “essentials” you’d crammed into it.  

With a deep breath, you grabbed the edge of the fire escape again, gritting your teeth as you hoisted yourself up. Your muscles strained against the weight of your own body, your arms trembling as you kicked your legs to get some momentum. “Okay... almost there...”  

Finally, with a groan, you managed to drag yourself up, collapsing onto the cold metal floor with a loud huff. You rolled onto your back, staring up at the dim, flickering lights of the Undercity’s skyline, panting like you’d just run a marathon.  

“Maybe I should’ve worked out more…” you mumbled, glaring at the bag now sitting innocently beside you.  

The memory of Sevika tossing it to you came to mind, her cold, stern gaze practically daring you to argue with her. She hadn’t been wrong about your stashes getting raided—half of them were basically public property at this point—but still, you’d never admit she had a point. That’d be giving her too much satisfaction.  

As much as you hated to admit it, the bag was starting to feel like a lifeline. Not just because it kept your things safe, but because... well, it was from her.  

You sighed, sitting up and brushing your hands off on your pants. “Whatever,” you muttered to yourself, swinging the bag over your shoulder again. “It’s just a stupid bag. Doesn’t mean anything.”  

As you climb further up the ladders you find yourself at what you call, home. The climb had left your muscles burning, but as you finally pulled yourself up to the top platform, a sense of relief washed over you. This was your little corner of the world, tucked high above the chaos of the Undercity, where few dared to tread.

"Home sweet home," you muttered, glancing at the haphazard setup before you.

The patchwork of old carpets and threadbare blankets was hardly luxurious, and the wooden crates stacked into a leaning structure could barely be called stable. Still, it had its charm—if only because it was yours. 

You ducked under the slanted “roof” of your makeshift tent, the faint smell of oil and dust filling your nose as you tossed the bag onto the ground with a loud thud. Sliding down onto the pile of blankets you called a bed, you let out a long, drawn-out exhale, the tension in your shoulders finally releasing.  

After a few moments, you sat up, rolling your sleeves as you reached for the bag. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got this time,” you murmured to yourself, the habit of talking aloud in your solitude one you never quite managed to break.  

One by one, you started pulling items from the bag: cogs, rusted bolts, wires tangled like a bird’s nest, a couple of scraps of metal that might be useful if you ever found a decent buyer. You laid them out in neat rows, sorting them with a critical eye.  

“Junk, maybe useful, definitely junk, hmm… potential,” you muttered, setting aside a few pieces you deemed worth keeping.  

Every so often, you paused to examine an item more closely, holding it up to the dim light filtering through the cracks of your tent. A faint smile tugged at your lips as you found a small, intact gear with its teeth still sharp. “Hah, not bad,” you said to no one, setting it aside with a sense of triumph.  

This was your ritual, your little piece of order in an otherwise chaotic world. Sorting through the refuse of the Undercity, finding bits and pieces that others had discarded without a second thought—it wasn’t glamorous, but it was yours. 

Your contented sorting came to an abrupt halt as the distant noise filtered up through the layers of steel and grime below. First, it was the sharp crack of something breaking—glass, maybe, or a chair being hurled against a wall. Then came the muffled yelling, too distorted by the distance to make out the words.  

You froze, your fingers hovering over a twisted wire. It wasn’t unusual to hear fights in the Undercity; hell, it was practically the soundtrack of the place. But this time was different.  

This time, you recognized the low, gravelly tone of one of the voices. Sevika.  

Your stomach twisted as you strained to listen, hoping you’d misheard. But there it was again—her voice, cutting through the chaos with a sharp bark of anger.  

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, scrambling to your feet. For a moment, you hesitated, torn between staying put in the safety of your little hideout and the nagging pull of curiosity—and maybe worry—that pushed you toward the ladder.  

Another crash, louder this time, made the decision for you. You grabbed the strap of your bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you moved toward the edge of the platform. Your heart pounded as you carefully climbed down, your usual annoyance at the shaky fire escape forgotten in your rush.  

By the time you reached the lower levels, the noise had grown louder, more distinct. You crept closer, ducking behind a stack of crates as you peered around the corner.  

There she was, Sevika, in the middle of a small brawl. Three guys, maybe more, circled her like vultures, but she looked as unfazed as ever, her mechanical arm gleaming under the dim light as she sent one of them flying with a single swing.  

Your first instinct was to turn back, let her handle it. She was Sevika, after all; she didn’t need help. But as another thug lunged at her with a broken pipe, something in you snapped.  

“Damn it,” you hissed, gripping the edge of the crate as you tried to come up with a plan. Or maybe you’d just jump in and wing it. Either way, you weren’t about to leave her hanging.

Though your- stupidity gets the best of you as you reach for a broken glass of whatever and throw it at one of the men, hitting his head

The moment the glass shattered against the man’s head, you felt a rush of pride. Bullseye. But that fleeting sense of accomplishment was quickly replaced with a cold, sinking feeling as the three men turned toward you, their expressions darkening like storm clouds.  

He wiped a hand over his face, now dripping with blood from a jagged cut the glass had left, his glare locking onto you like a predator sizing up its prey. “You’ve got a death wish, kid,” he growled, taking a menacing step forward.  

“Oh, crap,” you muttered, your bravado evaporating in an instant.  

Without another thought, you turned on your heel and bolted, your heart pounding in your ears as your boots slapped against the slick pavement. Behind you, the sound of shouts and heavy footsteps echoed as the men gave chase.  

“Stupid stupid stupid!!” you hissed to yourself, dodging around a stack of broken crates. This wasn’t exactly the first time your mouth—or in this case, your impulse to throw things—had gotten you into trouble, but this? This was a new level of stupid.  

You ducked into a narrow alley, squeezing through the gap between two rusted pipes as the men shouted behind you. Your pulse was racing, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you scanned the area for an escape route.  

Up ahead, you spotted a ladder leading to one of the upper platforms, the kind you’d climbed a hundred times before. “Come on, come on,” you whispered, practically leaping toward it.  

As you grabbed the rungs and started to climb, one of the men reached the base of the ladder, cursing loudly. He jumped, his fingers grazing your ankle, but you kicked out with a frantic yell, forcing him to let go.  

“Keep running, street rat!” one of them yelled.  

“Oh, I plan to!” you shouted back, your voice dripping with sarcasm despite the panic clawing at your chest.  

You scrambled onto the platform above, your legs burning and your breath coming in ragged gasps. From this vantage point, you could see Sevika below, taking advantage of your little distraction you created. For a split second, you thought about doubling back to help her, but another shout from below reminded you of your own predicament.  

"She better appreciate this," you muttered bitterly as you darted off into the shadows, praying you could lose your pursuers before they decided to make good on their threats. 

–

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Sevika snarled as you sat next to her at the little market you had come to know for your routine feeding, “those guys could've and would've killed you!” She hissed.

“I was helping!” you grumble, “Helping doesn't mean almost getting yourself killed!” Sevika shot right back.

“You should've been able to take those guys easily, they were so much smaller than you!”

“I had it.”

“Didn't seem like it Toolbox.”

“Stop calling me that,”

“Toolbox.”

“Street Rat.”

“Mines cooler anyways.” you hum, Sevika scoffs with a shake of her head, “You fucking wish.”

“Well,” you start, shoving the fruit you had stuffed in your bag into your mouth, biting into it sharply, the juices running down your chin- “I deserve a thank you.”

“You are not getting a thank you for making me worry,” Sevika spat, “awww, so you do care!” you hum sarcastically, “oh, my heart might just explode with joy!”

Sevika rolled her eyes so hard you were surprised they didn’t pop out of her skull. “Don’t flatter yourself Rat. I care because you’re a liability. If you go and get yourself killed, that’s just one more mess I have to deal with.”  

You snorted, chewing noisily on your fruit. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, Sevvy.”  

Her glare could have melted steel. “Call me that again and see what happens.”  

“Sevvy.” You said it sweetly, almost a purr, batting your lashes for extra effect.  

The mechanical fingers of her arm clenched with a faint hiss, and you couldn’t help but grin, even as she loomed closer, her presence casting a shadow over you. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” she growled, voice low and dangerous.  

“And brains,” you added smugly, leaning back as if her looming didn’t faze you. “I mean, I did save your ass, remember?”  

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “If by ‘save’ you mean ‘made my life infinitely harder,’ then yeah. Thanks for that.”  

You bit into your fruit again, savoring its sweetness as you shrugged. “Same difference. You’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”  

“I’d sleep better, that’s for sure.”  

“Awww, Sev, you’re so sweet,” you teased, wiping juice off your chin with your sleeve. “No wonder people love you so much.”  

Her lips twitched, like she was fighting back a smirk. “You’re lucky you’re useful sometimes, Street Rat. Otherwise, I’d have tossed you into the gutter by now.”  

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, grinning despite her insult. “Admit it, Sevika. You like having me around.”  

She shook her head, muttering something under her breath as she turned her attention back to her drink. You took that as a win, leaning back against the table with a satisfied smirk.

“So,” You hum as you throw the finished fruit onto the street, “Where we going now?”

Sevika stood up, pushing in her chair and throwing her cloak over her mechanical arm “I'm, going home.”

You frowned, tilting your head like a confused pup. “Home? What about me?”  

Sevika glanced over her shoulder, her expression flat. “What about you?”  

You scoffed, standing up and brushing the crumbs off your clothes. “I thought we were a team now.”  

She barked a laugh, the kind that was more mocking than amused. “Team? Don’t flatter yourself, Toolbox. You’re just a stray I can’t seem to shake off.”  

You put your hands on your hips, leaning forward as you shot her a challenging glare. “Stray or not, you’d be bored without me, and you know it.”  

“Bored?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow as she adjusted her cloak. “More like finally at peace.”  

“Sure, Sev, keep telling yourself that,” you quipped, falling into step beside her despite her best efforts to stride ahead.  

She stopped abruptly, turning to face you with a sharp glare. “What do you want, huh? A place to crash? A warm meal? Or do you just like annoying me?”  

You grinned, not missing a beat. “Little bit of all three, honestly.”  

She exhaled sharply, clearly trying to rein in her irritation. “You’re impossible.”  

“And yet, here we are,” you said with a cheeky shrug.  

For a moment, Sevika just stared at you, her jaw tightening as if she were debating whether to knock you out or just walk away. Finally, she shook her head, muttering something about bad decisions as she turned back toward the street.  

“Fine,” she said gruffly, not bothering to look back at you. “Follow me. But don’t think for a second this means I like you.”  

Your grin widened as you fell into step behind her. “Of course not, Sevvy. This is purely professional.”  

“Call me that again, and you’re sleeping in the gutter.”  

“Love you too,” you teased, earning a sharp growl from her as the two of you disappeared into the crowded streets of the Undercity.

God she hated you.

As you follow her not too far behind she doesn't look back- until she hears a loud CLUNK.

She looked back to see you diving into a dumpster, your legs propelling yourself further into it.

Sevika stopped dead in her tracks, her mechanical arm twitching slightly as she turned to stare at you, her expression an unreadable mix of irritation and disbelief.  

“What the hell are you doing now?” she called out, her voice carrying that sharp edge of exasperation she reserved just for you.  

Your legs flailed for a moment, kicking at the air as you wormed your way further into the dumpster. “I saw something shiny!” you shouted back, your voice muffled by the metal container.  

Sevika pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath. “Shiny? Are you a crow now?”  

“Shut up, it might be important!” you countered, your voice ringing with mock indignation.  

The dumpster rattled as you rummaged around, the sound grating on Sevika’s nerves. She glanced around, noting the amused—or horrified—looks from a few passersby. She sighed deeply, her patience wearing thin.  

“You know,” she said, her tone flat as she leaned against a nearby wall, arms crossed, “there’s a fine line between being resourceful and being a complete idiot. Guess which side you’re on.”  

You didn’t respond immediately, too engrossed in whatever treasure you were hunting. A moment later, you popped your head out of the dumpster, holding up a slightly dented but intact pocket watch. “See? Totally worth it!” you declared, grinning triumphantly.  

Sevika raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “A broken watch?”  

“It’s vintage!” you argued, shaking the watch for emphasis.  

“Yeah, sure. Vintage trash,” she shot back, turning on her heel. “Let’s go, before someone mistakes you for actual garbage.”  

You hopped out of the dumpster, brushing off your clothes as you jogged to catch up with her. “You’re just mad you didn’t see it first,” you teased, tucking the watch into your bag.  

She didn’t respond, but you swore you saw her roll her eyes as she picked up her pace, trying her best to ignore you.

But your voice was grating, the way you chatted away about god knows what, trying to take apart the watch as you walked, proving to Sevika by the brand name on the inside of the watch that it was definitely worth something.

“See? I told you, I know what's useless or, worthy!” You hum happily.

you were definitely a lot different from when Sevika first saw you, when you were a lot more sharp and,I guess hateful. Now here you are, talking her ear off about some history behind the watch.

Cute.

Sevika shook her head firmly, no, absolutely not, you were not cute or anything like that, you were a dingy kid from the streets, probably not even 26, you had your whole life ahead of you.

Sevika’s gaze flickered over to you as you babbled on about the intricate history behind the watch, your hands working quickly to twist and turn its parts, barely looking up as you walked beside her.  

“Mm-hmm, sure, sure,” she muttered, her focus on the path ahead, though her mind was starting to wander despite herself. You were relentless, a flurry of words and energy that kept bouncing from one topic to the next, your excitement practically buzzing through the air. It was almost impossible not to listen to you, even if she didn’t want to.  

But cute? No.  

You were just some kid, a street rat, sure, but not in a pathetic sense anymore. She couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Maybe it was how you had this endless drive to find the value in everything, even when it was so easy for someone like her to overlook. Or how your once sharp edges seemed to have softened over time, the constant biting sarcasm now replaced with, well, an actual willingness to communicate, to engage.  

God, what the hell was wrong with her?

She tried shaking it off, focusing on the weight of her boots as they hit the cracked pavement. She was not about to get all sentimental or soft. That would be a mistake.  

“I’m serious, Sevika,” you continued, eyes sparkling as you looked up at her, “I could sell this for a few cogs. It’s pretty rare, maybe even more than that if I find the right buyer!”  

She made a noncommittal sound in her throat, but inside, something shifted just a bit. You really are something else, she thought.  

Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to put some distance between herself and you before she made a mistake, but here she was, still walking beside you, letting you prattle on and on.  

“Yeah, whatever, just don’t go blowing it on something stupid,” she muttered, though there was a flicker of something in her voice that she quickly smothered.  

You gave her a sidelong glance, not missing the subtle change. “You really do care, huh?”  

She didn’t answer, instead pushing her shoulders back and picking up the pace, determined to ignore the way her heart seemed to tighten. She could still feel the eyes of the people around you—at least, that’s what she told herself.  

But maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just about saving you from getting yourself killed anymore. Maybe... she was just stuck with you, whether she liked it or not.  

“Keep dreaming, kid,” she said gruffly, her voice betraying none of the warmth creeping up her spine.  

“Aw, you're soft, Sev," you teased, and she felt her chest tighten even more.  

"Shut up, Streetie," she snapped, the words coming out far too fondly for her liking.  

“Streetie? that's a new one,” you giggle slightly, seeming to notice before you cleared your throat.

(what do we think about making this a series Loves?)

[nomie-11]

Vi x Reader - I Love You, I'm Sorry

masterlist!

“Really, Vi?” You practically spat, face to face with a girl you thought you knew. “You’re running with the enforcers now? Since when were you a bluebelly?”

The grimace on her face was set in firm lines, hard and unyielding and so unlike the Vi you once knew. This was her—same powder blue eyes, same fiery pink hair, same cheekbones, same lip shape, but your Vi would never betray you like this. 

“This is for you, this is for Zaun,” god, even the words tasted like a lie on her tongue, but she wouldn’t admit it. “Jinx is a danger to us both topside and here in the undercity. You should know that!”

“Is that the lie you’re telling yourself to justify this!?” You were practically vibrating with anger, fists clenched tightly at your sides. “I loved you, Vi. What are you doing?” 

Vi’s face twisted, a crack of pain breaking through her tough facade. “I—” she started, but her words fell apart. 

The silence that stretched between you felt louder than the pounding of your heart. You could barely breathe, your chest heaving with rage, disbelief, and heartbreak. 

“You loved me? Don’t you dare use that in the same breath as selling me out,” you snapped, stepping closer to her. You didn’t care about the enforcer shadowing her, a step behind with one hand hovering near her weapon. All you could see was Vi, standing there with a badge at her hip and gilt in her eyes. “I trusted you. You swore you’d never betray us. Never betray me.” 

“This isn’t about betrayal!” Vi shot back, her voice trembling as she raised her hands, trying to calm you or herself—you couldn’t tell. “This is about stopping you before it’s too late. You’ve gone too far, Y/n. The arson, the—” she hesitated, jaw tightening. “The murders. Working with—”

“With Silco!?” You laughed, a dry, bitter sound. “That’s what she told you, isn't it?” You gestured sharply to the enforcer—Caitlyn—her perfect Piltover uniform untouched by the grime of Zaun. “Let me guess, she spun some story about me being a terrorist, and you just ate it up because she’s got a fancy accent and a badge.” 

“That’s not—” Vi started, but Caitlyn’s voice cut through her hesitation. 

“She’s dangerous, Vi. You know that.” Caitlyn’s tone was level, professional, but her gaze flicked to you with a mix of wariness and disdain. “We need to bring her in—now.” 

“Jinx and I have done more for this city than you ever could! We’ve brought hope back to Zaun and you’re trying to rip it to shreds! What about my parents? What about your parents!” Your heart cracked, splintering into sharp, jagged pieces. You took another step forward, daring Vi to stop you. “So, what’s it going to be, Vi? Do you believe her?” You pointed at Caitlyn. “Or me?” 

Vi hesitated, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. Her eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you saw the girl you fell in love with. The girl who once fought for Zaun, for her family, for you. But then she looked at Caitlyn, and everything shattered. 

“I love you,” Vi whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry.” 

The words hit you like a blow to the chest. Your vision blurred, not from tears—no, you wouldn’t cry—but from a red-hot fury that burned through your veins. “No,” you growled, voice low and venomous. “Don’t you dare say that to me. You don’t get to say you love me and choose a Piltie over me.” 

“Y/n,” Vi said, stepping toward you, but you backed away, shaking your head. 

“Stay the hell away from me,” you spat, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “You’re no better than the blue bellies who raided Zaun and tore our families apart. You’re just like them. You’re a traitor.”

The words cut deep—you saw it in the way Vi flinched, the way her hand wavered before falling uselessly to her side. But you didn’t care. Let her feel a fraction of th pain she had inflicted on you. 

Caitlyn stepped forward then, gun in hand. “Surrender peacefully, or this ends the hard way.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “You think I’m going down without a fight?” Your hands flexed at your sides, ready to grave the blade hidden beneath your coat. You knew it wasn’t a fair fight—two against one, with Caitlyn’s hextech rifle and Vi’s hextech fists—but you didn’t care. If this was how it ended, you’d make them work for it.

The fight erupted in a blur of movement. Caitlyn fired, but you ducked, the bullet ricocheting off a metal pipe. You lunged at Vi, and for a moment, your fists collided with hers—like old times, but with none of the playfulness, none of the love. 

“Y/n, stop!” VI shouted, blocking your strikes. Her voice was desperate, pleading. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Funny, because you already have,” You snarled, landing a blow that sent her stumbling back. But Caitlyn was there, quick and efficient, slamming the butt of her rifle into your side. Pain exposed in your ribs, but you didn’t falter. 

You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. 

It wasn’t long before they overwhelmed you. Caitlyn had you pinned, her knee digging into your back as she cuffed your hands. Vi stood over you, blood dripping from a cut above her eyebrow, her expression a mix of anguish and regret. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you hissed, struggling against the cuffs. “Don’t you dare look at me like that.” 

“I—” Vi started, but you cut her off. 

“You made your choice,” you spat. “You chose her. You chose Piltover. You chose everything you once swore to hate. And for what? A badge? A chance to play hero?” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “Screw you, Vi.” 

Her face crumpled, and for a moment, you thought you saw tears in her eyes. But you didn’t care. Let her cry. Let her feel the weight of what she’d done. 

As Caitlyn hauled you to your feet, you fixed Vi with a glare, your voice cold and unyielding. “You’re dead to me, Vi. Don’t ever forget that.” 

-------

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

sorry if this is like uncomfortable or off limits but uhhh

really sweet and loving smut with dave- him and his gf have been dating for a few years now but shes still a virgin and whenever Dave made advances on her she would go until they got their pants off bc she was too embarressed- but one day, Dave makes sure they have the most perfect day together, going out and getting fav foods, doing fav actvoties all the good stuff and hopes the night will end w them in bed. she hesitates a lot but agrees none the less and they get the the bedroom and kissing and stuff and when he has her laid out on the bed he reaches to take off her skirt/pants but she gets really nervous and scared again bc she thinks that hell think shes a monster or ugly or messed up but she just has SH scars on her thighs and dave reassures her and comforts her that nothing vcould make him think that and he takes them off and feels a bit sad that she once did that but kisses them and praises her and is just very sweet and then its gentle loving smut

sorry this is so so so so so so so so so long and confusing but yah love ur fics btw

A/n: Something about Dave just gives me the vibes of “hurt her and I’ll kill you” but in a “I’ll give anything for her” kind of way, y’know?

Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), angst, talk about self harm, brief description of scars, drugs (just at the beginning), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

"She's just gonna stop you again." Junior said, chuckling as he held the joint between his fingers out for Dave to take.

The ginger scoffed as he took the joint, bringing to his lips. "She won't, she said she was ready." He insisted, holding the air in as he spoke before letting smoke flood out his nose.

Junior made a face and Dave pushed him, knocking him off the box he was sitting on. They just laughed, so hard Dave fell off his own box and they laughed harder.

"Fuck, we are so high." Junior mused, reaching for the joint back.

Dave had planned out the perfect day for you, a walk down through the park, down by a creek and taking a straight from there to a new café he knew you'd been wanting to go check out. Then it was back to your place and he'd finally get to have you to himself.

Everything had been going great, just the way he planned, although he hadn't expected the food to be so pricey, but it didn't matter so long as he got to see you smile.

As you walked with him up the street, getting closer to your house, you could tell something was on his mind but he wouldn't say.

"Come on! Just give me a hint." You pleaded, tugging on his arm thrown over your shoulder.

"No, it'll ruin the surprise!" He said, laughing at your insistence.

You chewed your cheek, thinking for a moment as you turned the corner, your house coming into view. "Tell me or no you're sleeping outside." Dave stopped completely at that.

"Are you kidding me?" He asked, eyes wide in fear that you weren't joking.

You bit your lip as you thought it over, eventually shaking your head. "No, I want my cuddles tonight." Dave let out the breath he'd been holding in and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Don't scare me like that." You chuckled as he lifted you up, letting you wrap yourself around him like a koala bear. "I'm serious, I'm not a dog, I'm your boyfriend."

"That you are, Davie, that you are." You purred, kissing along his jaw as he walked the rest of the way to your house.

He pulled the keys from the back pocket of your jeans and opened the door, letting you hold onto him until he set you down on your bed. He hovered over top of you between your legs, arms on either side of your head, caging you in while his soft hair fell around his face, framing it.

Not that you could see it, his lips barely left yours for longer than a second to mumbled something into your mouth. However, you felt his hand sliding lower on your body, groping your chest which he'd done countless times before, moving down your sides and squeezing your hips and waist, mapping out your curves.

His hands didn't stop and he unbuttoned your jeans before you could stop him. "Davie-Davie, wait." You said, pushing on his shoulders until he pulled away.

"Why, what-what happened?" He asked, looking over you for anything that could be wrong, searching for what was making you uncomfortable.

"I- we-we have to stop." You said, squirming under him.

"Why?" He asked, brows furrowing slightly. He didn't mean to get upset but it was hard not to, he loved you, he didn't want to hurt you, he wanted to show you how much he loved you. "Tell me why, I'll get off if you just tell me why."

You nervously bit your lip, holding yourself up on your elbows. It's not that you didn't want to go further, you tried to convince yourself every single time that it would be fine but you had to stop before he saw what you'd done to yourself when you were younger.

"I- my legs are... I have scars." You muttered, looking down to the sheets instead of him.

"Scars?" He repeated, looking for confirmation. "Like, stretchmarks?" He asked. "You're scared I won't like your fucking stretchmarks? Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me-"

"They're not fucking stretchmarks, Dave." You bit, cutting him off.

He stared at you for a moment, not having expected you to use such a harsh tone with him. "Then what is it?" He asked, his voice significantly lighter.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the upcoming conversation. "They're from me..." You mumbled, still not looking at him.

The pieces slowly connected in his mind and his expression softened. "Sweetheart, you made them?" He asked, reaching up to cup your face in his hand. "Why? Why would you do that?"

You chewed your cheek, not really having an answer, not one that would be good enough for him, anyway. "When I was younger... Highschool was hard, Dave." You mumbled, hoping even though it was vague it would satisfy him.

Dave looked over your eyes for a good long moment before inhaling deeply. "Well, highschools over, you have me now." He kissed your lips and moved down to your jaw and neck. "And I love" then he kissed your collarbone and pushed up your shirt to reveal your stomach, "every." he kissed just under your bra. "Single." Your abdomen. "Part." Finally he tugged your jeans down and you lifted your lips to let him.

He took in the scars embedded in your otherwise pristine skin, some deeper than others, all over your thighs. His gaze met yours as he continued to pull your jeans off. "I love this part of you, too." He said, making sure you heard him. "I don't love that you felt like you had to do this, but I love you no matter what."

Dave adjusted himself so he was laying between your legs, his arms hooked under your thighs as he held the plush flesh of them in handfuls.

He planted tender kisses over your scarred tissue, looking up at you periodically to make sure you were watching and enjoying yourself.

Soon his kisses moved to your panties, watching you twitch and bite your lip. Dave smiled and kissed right over your clothed clit. "That feels good, doesn't it?" He asked, waiting for you to nod before he continued. "It's gonna feel a lot better soon." He assured, giving a last kiss to your scars before pulling your panties out of the way and licking up your folds.

He hummed, satisfied with the noise it drew from you. His tongue swirled around your clit, listening to the whines you let slip passed your lips as he did. "God, you sound so pretty." He mused, licking up you again before his tongue delved into you.

Your hand slammed down onto the mattress, clutching onto the sheets as he fucked you on his muscle, his eyes staring up at you the entire time as his nose repeatedly bumped your clit. Your hands clenched and flexed, mind going blurry at the sensations he was bringing between your twitching legs and trembling thighs.

He watched you come undone, watched your hands finally let go of the sheets to grab onto his hair so you could pull him right to you, holding his face to your cut as you rode out your high on his face. "Hah-! Oh-oh, fuck, Dave!" You moaned, back arching off the bed and your head fell back.

Your foot pushed down on Dave's back gently, moving down his torso as you slowly came down from your high, breathing as heavy as your eyelids.

Dave moved back up the bed, wiping his mouth and chin of your juices. "How was that?" He asked as he hovered over you, hands planted on either side of your head. "Feeling loved yet?" He teased, pecking your cheek.

You chuckled, hands going to his shoulders. "Mm... I could use some more love." You said, pulling him down to kiss you. "You know, to really feel it." He smirked at the implications of your words, grinding against you, his jeans snagging your clit and making you whimper into the kiss.

"I can do that, I can definitely do that." He muttered against your lips. He reached down to undo his own jeans, pushing them down and kicking them off the bed before he pulled away and tore his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the ground with the rest of the clothes.

He looked down at you, still with your shirt bunched up by your tits. You sat up, pulling it off and wrapping your arms around his neck, lips crashing into his once more.

Neither of you broke the kiss, only taking quick gasps for short breaths. Dave unclipped your bra and slid it off your arms before trying to get your panties off, only to eventually give up and just snap the flimsy strings on the sides.

Dave quickly got his own boxers off and pulled you into his lap, easily slipping into you in a swift thrust and holding you down as you moaned. "Ngh- just sit-sit still for a minute, it'll- fuck, it'll feel good in a second." He stammered, trying to hide his own sounds, his muscular arms tightening around you.

Needing more friction you reached down to rub your clit, Dave took it as a sign to start moving so he rolled his hips up, bucking into you. You choked out a moan, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Dave snapped his hips into you, tip of his dick angled just right for you. When he heard the moan that left you, felt your muscles relax in against him, he knew he found your sweet spot and hit it repeatedly, setting a steady rhythm.

"That's it, let me do all the work, let me show you how much I love you." He said, mouth not far from your ear so you could hear every word of his praise. "You sound so pretty, and, fuck, let me show you how much you deserve to be loved."

Part of you wanted to stay hidden in his neck, but the other part won, the part that wanted to pull away and bounce on him, to hold onto his shoulders and watch him fuck you.

Even sitting in his lap you were only barely eyelevel with him. His bruised lips parted slightly, just enough for soft grunts and grown to leave him, along with whatever affection he decided to spill to you. His eyelids were heavy, lust and adoration swirling in his pupils.

The knot in your gut was tightening again, Dave was close and pulsing in your gummy walls. "Don't-don't ever do that again." He blurted, struggling to keep the same rhythm. You tried to ask what he was talking about but it just came out as moans. "If-if you ever, ever feel like that again you-you come to me and I-I'll- fuck, I cah-can't-!" With a few final thrusts he finished inside you, cum painting your insides.

You followed shortly after, fingers still on your clit, the warm, gooey feeling he spilt in you was nice too.

Dave lowered you down onto the bed, pulling out and curling up beside you. His arms stayed nicely wrapped around you as you laid your head on his chest.

"So," you started once you got your breathing right again, "do you want to finish what you were saying?"

Dave snorted and shook his head. "No fucking way." He brought a hand up to play with your hair. "You're tired, go to sleep, I'll be right here when you wake up." You didn't have to be told twice, smiling softly and letting the sound of his heartbeat and breathing lull you to sleep.

Dave lay there awake, tired but not enough to sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about you, about what might've driven you to do such a thing to yourself. He didn't see you as a monster, some messed up psychiatric patient, you were still his love, his girlfriend. You were still you, just with a little more hurt that he needed to help heal.

"If..." He started, voice low to avoid waking you up. "If you ever feel the need to hurt yourself... you come to me first, sweetheart, I'll help." He knew you couldn't hear him so he continued. "You can hurt me all you want, can't break plastic... but you, love... you are the stained glass in a century old chapel."

[galaxymagitech]

So, I used the page this comic panel is on in another post to talk about Jason’s attempts to recruit his siblings, but I somehow managed to overlook this part.

Jason: What—you gonna take one of today’s killers—rough ‘im up a little, tie ‘im to a lamppost—then get back to bidding on eBay? C’monnnnnn! I know all about what you did, Dick—the whole Blockbuster thing. That’s right, and I also know that for just a second there you saw the real world. Well, I’ve seen it too, my friend. You and me, Dickie-Bird, were the only ones who know what the world is anymore! What it needs!

Dick: You’re right…and it sure as hell isn’t you!

So, Jason has somehow heard about Blockbuster, and through very secondhand information. Bruce certainly didn’t tell him, and I doubt Amy did either, so where did Jason even get this information? Presumably, police files. But the official BPD story is that Dick was an undercover officer who killed Blockbuster in the line of duty (or just contributed to his death, but the way the other cops talk about Tarantula makes it seem like she was facing unrelated charges.)

So, Jason might genuinely believe that Dick killed Blockbuster.

Worse, he thinks that the Blockbuster incident makes Dick a killer. And I think Dick would think that like recognizes like, and if Jason thinks he’s a killer then it must be true. Oof.

The only other information source I could see Jason having about this is Barbara, which…is honestly probably worse. And there’s some evidence to support that Jason knows Dick only stepped out of the way—he says “for a second” and doesn’t outright say Dick killed Blockbuster. But learning about this from Barbara would almost definitely come with a series of misunderstandings that never got cleaned up between Dick and Babs.

So, yeah, Jason knows some limited third-hand information about Blockbuster’s death, attempts to use it to relate to Dick, and accidentally ends up doing further damage to Dick’s self-image. If Dick ever tries to explain what happened to Jason, Jason will be like “oh yeah I know all about how you killed Blockbuster,” and that’s gotta put a damper on the conversation.

But on the plus side, we get “Dickie-Bird.” Jason should call Dick “Dickie-Bird” more in fanfiction, it’s gotta annoy the hell out of Dick.

[jiinxswife]

Jinx x fem!reader - how would jinx react to your additions?

Trigger warnings: self harm, drinking, depression, smoking, jinx acting toxic because she doesn’t knows better. Self harm is the longest one for personal reasons

Autor note: I wrote and posted this yesterday, but apparently, due to a mistake, it got deleted, so I’m posting this again

Self harm

•oh your girl is pissed and worried when she finds out about your addiction

•100% chased down everyone who ever made/influenced you to hurt yourself

•tries to help you, but ends up guilt tripping you. “You’re hurting yourself? You know how badly I had it? And even so I didn’t hurt myself”

•”if you cut yourself again, I will cut myself too” she says once she starts to get desperate

•”you drew stars around my scars” yeah, but it isn’t stars but random doodles and phrases that comes into jinx’s mind

•always caress your scars, always having a thumb gently caressing/tracing over them

•if you’re insecure about your scars, she will kiss them while whispering that she loves you how you are, if even so you still feel really insecure about them, she will offer to get you a tattoo would definitely be a matching one or her name

•if your depression/self harm addiction gets worse, her hideout is becoming child-proof, guns, grenades and everything dangerous is hidden and safety nets are installed everywhere you could jump off

•keeps an eye on you for every new cut

•Will try everything she can to help you, even buy some self help books, even if she finds most of them to be bullshit

•praises you a hell lot when you’re clean, makes sure to tell you how proud she is

•if you have a kink like knife play, she won’t accomplish to it, she doesn’t wants you to get mental health and pleasure mixed

•called you her “fruit ninja champion” at least once-

Drinking/alcoholism

•the addiction that most annoys her

•when you come home wasted, on the first times at least, she takes care of you, once it becomes an habit, she starts to get annoyed

•jinx is really clingy and possessive, and it annoys her that you’re prioritizing alcohol over her

•tries to go to bars with you, if you won’t stop drinking, maybe you could drink together? But you get drunk way too soon

•starts to make your drinks, but changes the alcohol for water or something, in an attempt to detoxify with the placebo effect

•if you persist in your addiction, she will start to saying things like “it’s me or the alcohol”

•Will try to get you addicted to something else so you leave the drinks addicted to her

•if you get clean, she’s praising you a lot. And also threatening every single bar owner to never sell you anything alcoholic

Smoking

•the addiction that she’s most used to

•grew up seeing Sevika and Silco smoking

•shows you the best brands of cigarettes her princess deserves the best

•doesn’t really tries to stop your addiction, at the start at least

•if you start to get sick due to the smoking, she will definitely make you stop. There ain’t hospitals in zaun; and due to her reputation, none of you could ever enter piltover

•if you’re trying to stop, she starts to always walk with popsicles on her pockets

•Lollipops that leave the tongue blue, do I have to say anything more?

Ahhhh this was my second time writing it, first post got deleted for some reason. I’m sorry it’s short, I just don’t know what else to write , anyways, I’m posting this before I hate it way too much

[threepandas]

Bad End: Golden Cassandra

People don't listen. Not when what your saying, scares them. Especially when, what you're saying, scares them. They like to pretend, instead. That if they don't hear you? It's not happening. Can't and WON'T happen. That you're just a liar. Speading fear, for the fun of it.

But oh, when has reality ever been that kind? That agreeable?

Tell me, WHEN has it ever bowed to the tantrums of men?

I can't think of a single instance. Knew it wouldn't now, either. So, really? What was I to do? Keep trying? Beat my head against walls of willful ignorance, until the deigned to give? Hoping, against all reason and evidence, that they MIGHT, just MAYBE, do so in the nick of time? Please. I was hopeful, not a fool. Optimism does not render a soul naive.

Like the fall of Atlantis, the sacking of Rome. Great Alexandria burning. Everything was going to be destroyed. Rather dramatically, too, and rather deservedly. I couldn't and DIDN'T defend it. Try to change it? Yes. Try to SAVE them? Absolutely. But not once, not EVER, would I defend it.

After all, it was a system built upon the backs of slaves.

Death was the only reasonable outcome. Revolution, the Voice, of those unheard and in chains. Their magic, their power, used for the convenience of their so called "betters". It was disgusting. Vile.

Set dressing, for an Otome Game.

As though their VERY LIVES, their SUFFERING and SOULS, were nothing but pretty little plot points in someone else's PLAY! The indignities they faced. The starvation and thirst. Being forced to watch friend and loved ones suffer, Scream, DIE!

But Oh, at least the Protagonist gets her handsome meat to oogle. They'll know their place, as they play along. Broken nicely and so very, VERY greatful for her scraps. She can play at revolutionary. Or perhaps at savior, should she feel the need. Assuming she doesn't leave them in chains.

And I? Oh I am supposed to play dress up and face her, in some sick "duel" of love! Abuse and use to my heart's content! The Gods jest. For I will do no such thing!

I can barely recall the plot. Only that the gloss over the rather significant socioeconomic and political fall out that is sure to follow. The Kingdom is not going to survive. Should it not be one sort of Revolutionary revolt, it will be another. Corruption, stagnation, and willful ignorance are simply too wide spread among the upper echelons. Baked too deeply into the foundations.

Gods... I... I tried.

It hurts. Like ripping out finger nails, one by one, when I finally gather enough. Not even all that I wish I could. But simply... enough. There is not enough time, the rumblings of revolution have grown too loud. I... I HAVE too go. And... and I know they won't come with me. My friends, my family, the neighbors. All those who smile, nod, and listen but don't believe a word I say.

The pain is hollowing. A truely special sort of hell.

Looking back, to little cousins on tiny legs, helping you pack. With their round little cheeks and small little hands. Watching them try to lift bags like a "grown up". Your friends and family, treating it all like a trip to the country side and not the last time you'll ever see them. The... the day being... being so accursedly normal. Mild weather and gentle breeze. Like your world isn't ending. Like everything isn't gone.

Wanting to be wrong. Traveling and traveling. Wanting to be wrong. Everything mild, calm and sweet. A hell of self doubt. Every night and every dawn. Are you insane? Were they right all along? Were you reading signs, portents of Doom, where there were none? But still... you travel. A caravan filled with your life's work.

Every scrap of modern knowledge. A copy of every work and definitive artwork. Every play, treatise, and textbook. Every old Diary I could get my hands on and endless days patrolling the book markets. A lifetime's work. All spent in hand-me-downs and out of fashion clothes, just for this. The preservation of knowledge.

But what if I'm wrong?

Fiddling with the piles of ward stones, as I get farther and farther north. Closer and closer to the land I stashed away. Hidden, within layers upon layers, of ever circling bureaucracy. A magic rich grove of Gold-leaf Ginko. They would have been harvested to oblivion, if I hadn't hidden them, and the species is already endangered.

I have been using a tower I built (in a natural clearing, as I would sooner remove my own limbs, then a single branch upon one of those trees) there as a seed bank. Every endangered magical plant species I came across? I sent as many seed as I could, to my bank. Had even begun the lengthy process of creating automatons, so they could build a green house (carefully!) into the mountain.

Seems I will have nothing but time, now, to dedicate to that project.

As I get closer, passing through the beginning of the valley towns (that lead into the high lands)? My Family Ring breaks. The terrible Crack of it, a sharp knife to the gut, splitting the morning silence. Father is... oh Gods, Father is...

Yet, even before I can come to terms with this terrible new reality? Beneath my travel cloak and jacket, nestled precious like the love it represented, my Clan Mantle begins to snap and crack like popcorn. Enchanted stone beads cracking apart violently, with the lose of the life they were made to represent. Shrapnel tearing at my clothes as I desperately rip at my cloak, my jacket, blood already welling up from various wounds.

Pop, dead. Crack, dead. Snap! Dead.

I manage to rip the heavy necklace from around my shoulders. Already half the bead are gone. More, like lethal firecrackers, shooting off even as I fling the enchanted jewelry into a nearby leather bag. Scramble for a nearby heavy blanket to cover it. Blood stains everything, dripping from shallow nicks and shrapnel wounds alike. I... oh gods, I barely notice I'm crying.

The sounds have startled the horses. One of them even got hurt. It.. it takes hours to fix. I have to stop in the next town. Shaking. Shaking. I.. I think I may be shaking. C-crying. "To remember where you came from." That's... oh god. That's what Clan Mantle's are FOR. A symbolic gift, really. They... they could never have known.

That it would actually serve it's original purpose. It's ancient purpose. The reason they USED to be made. To... to show who was still ALIVE. Oh gods. I... I can't check. Can't bear to look. The sound has stopped. Is it over? Are... is there...? Please, gods, don't make me look. Don't make me KNOW, how few members of my own family are left.

I was right. Gods, damn them.

Gods damn them all.

I was RIGHT.

Bandaged, healed, I travel faster. Time is running out. It doesn't matter, now, which "route" she took. Everything will have fallen apart. I reach my grove and don't even bother to set up a tent. Wards before all. Better to sleep on the floor, then be caught unaware. I work around the clock. Feeling like clawed fingers are ever so gently, wrapping around my throat, one at a time. Tick, tock, tick, tock. And oh, the tighter they squeeze.

Barely... BARELY! Do the wards thrum to life, deep and powerful, before I feel some almost god like crash into them. My hands shake. Still kneeling in the dirt, from where I placed the last stone, I slowly look up. And... and curling above the golden trees? Shades of copper catch the light. Massive and leaning. Stepping on my wards. Looking down in annoyance, as they refuse to part.

(Distantly, I hear the horses scream in terror. I... I wish I could do the same.)

I flee. Scrambling without dignity, back to the seed bank's tower. Trying to keep out of sight. A hopeless endeavor, I know. What other reason could such a power Dragon be out here for? If not to finish what was started? But... but hope has carried me so FAR. Can it not carry me just a bit farther?

No attacks come. No insults or threats. Yet...

The presence does not leave.

I can not hide forever, for all that fear exhausts and bids me too. All my supplies are out side. My wards, at least seem, to have held? But how can I trust it? Knowing just how strong a dragon's magis is. Sure enough, the second I step outside? There he stands. The copper dragon. Just beyond the wards.

Worse still? He is a man I recognize. Which can only invite pain and suffering, as he played no small part in the revolution. Not to mention, his significance to that damnable Game. Was he "supporting character"? A "hidden route"? An antagonist I could not quite recall? I can not place it. He was THERE, but not lead about by the nose, like the others. Not broken, as they were.

Now, here he stands, light catching off his ornaments and nails. As he tap, tap, taps them lightly against my wards. In sequence. Amused. His eyes locked with mine and glowing from within. Fire and magic made manifest. The king was a fool to think he owned this man. A "royal gaurd dog" indeed. Ha! They brought death into their house, then kicked it.

A slow smile, spreading like poison through sleeping veins, creeps across that deceptively youthful face. Sharp, sharp teeth are revealed to the air. I think I may amuse him. Perhaps I have for quite a while. I have made it no secret, after all, that I know he is dangerous. Treated him as the threat he truely IS. Others thought it was funny. Would find excuses to shove me at him, just to see me panic. All the while, he pretended, like a GOOD little dog, to be polite.

His eyes had always been laughing.

And now? He doesn't even bother to hide.

"You ran away." His voice rings out, the barest hint of rasp, like the drawing of a blade. It fills the silence. Demands attention. "Did you think I wouldn't be able to find you?"

To be honest? I had hoped no one would look. That I had given them no reason to even try. Perhaps that had been naive. I was a part of the system too, in the end. Guilt by association. That didn't explain him, however. Had I wronged him? Beyond the obvious. (And the obvious sat between us, like so much rotten filth. How could ANYONE over look that?)

"Their courts burned, just like you always warned they would. You should have seen it."

He stopped to chuckle. Closer to a sneer, then a sound of true amusement. His distain and delight intertwining as he savored the memory. He leaned closer. Letting his forehead press against the barrier. Enjoying, reliving, his moment of triumph, once again.

"Ha, ha~ Oh, but you should have seen their faces. When they realized you were right. That you had warned them and warned them, but they had refused to listen! It was glorious, darling. They howled with such regret and fear. A magnificent symphony~ you made for me."

I backed up against the carts. The wounds from broken beads stinging harshly with every shift, like the screaming of the dead. Scared. Gods, I'm s-so scared. I can't possibly have invited this... r-right? I never flirted or... or suggested anything! So-! So why is-?! Gods, why is he here?!

"You can't run from me, clever girl. Not for long. You saw me and I see you. Too clever by half. They really should have listened~!" He broke off to laugh, a sharp mockery of the dead. Fangs catching the light. "But they didn't, did they? My poor clever girl. We truely were buried by filth, weren't we? How glorious it must be. To finally be free."

"But~! Did you really think you could escape ME, my clever girl?"

"You're not nearly so foolish. Open the barrier, darling."

"Let me in. Our revolution is over, I have won."

"Now you can't escape me~"

[rafe-jj-povs]

Hard Love : The Party

Summary: After two years in a relationship with Rafe you caught him kissing another girl at the Midsummer's party. He was kissing the very girl he promised was just a friend. You end things with him but deep down you knew it wasn’t over. You make a choice not knowing if you are going to regret it or not.

—

“You promised me! Rafe you fucking promised!” You yelled at him walking away from him down the beach.

“Wait no! Y/n please don't walk away!” His voice breaking. He chases after you and grabs your wrist but you pull away and turn to look at him. 

“Don’t touch me." Your voice is cold. "How could you do this?” You hit his chest with both of your hands. ”You promised me that she was just a friend! Did I mean anything to you?” You choked back tears.

“Yes of course you did.” 

“You promised me that you loved me. Did you mean that?”

“Yes! Baby I do love you.”

You shook your head. “No, you don’t get to call me baby.” You walk away and he doesn’t chase you this time.

…

It’s been about 4 months since Rafe cheated. Tonight Topper is throwing a party at his place. You sit on your bed debating if you want to go or not. You know you should go out and live a little. You look at the dress you picked out to wear tonight. You decide to go because you thought it would be good for you. You slipped the dress on and admired yourself in the mirror. The dress was black and it rested just above your knees, it had spaghetti straps with a very deep V-neck. It snatched your curves in all the right places. You took your time doing your makeup and curling your hair. You put on black heels and leave for the party. 

Once you arrive your eyes wander around. There were a lot of people drinking, dancing, making out and snorting white powder.

You stop in your tracks, Rafe had obviously shown up. To your right was a man with a tray that had drinks laid out on it. 

“Vodka on ice” The man said as he held the tray up to you. 

“Thanks.” You grab one and the man walks away.

You look up and lock eyes with Rafe over your vodka on ice, he's staring at you from across the room with those seductive blue eyes, beer in hand. You almost forget what he did to you.

His eyes send chills down your spine, you quickly look away. You turn and walk away to find the bathroom, to freshen up and clear your head. Once you find the bathroom you touch up your lip gloss and stare at yourself in the mirror for a long time.

You open the door to leave and bump into Rafe practically tripping over him. 

"Oh, sorry." You glance up to meet his eyes. 

"Hi" he says grinning. You didn't even realize his hand on your lower back. You guys are so close, you can feel his breath on your cheek.

"H-" you clear your throat, "Hi" You try to keep your voice calm, you are still so angry with him but he still makes you nervous.

“Can we talk?” His voice is quiet.

You guys are standing in the middle of a hallway, the party is going on just around the corner.

"Did you follow me to the bathroom, Rafe?" 

 "Maybe" He takes a step closer to you. You take a step back, hitting the wall behind you.

You breathe in, "Don't you want to head back to the party?" your breath is shaky as you exhale.

"Do you?" he asks.

"No" you say without thinking. What the hell am I doing? You think to yourself. He cheated on you, remember. 

"Good neither do I" he looks around to see if anyone was lingering. He grabs your wrist.

"Hey!" You try to pull back.

He ignores you holding your wrist tighter. He leads you down the hallway to a bedroom. You go in first, he follows and you hear him lock the door.

“Rafe what are you do-” You turn to look at him just as he grabs your face and smashes his lips into yours. He walks forward pushing you backwards, you hit a desk behind you. His tongue sneaks its way into your mouth and finds yours. He puts his hands on your lower back trailing them down below your ass and picks you up and sits you on the desk. Your legs wrap around his waist. 

How can he affect me this much? I hate him for what he did. But you've craved this for so long.

You pull your lips back, "Rafe? I thought you wanted to talk" you say with heavy breaths. He quiets you with a kiss. You don’t stop him, you don’t want to.

You run your hands over his chest to find the end of his shirt and you pull it over his head and throw it on the floor. Your hand is in his hair as he grabs your neck to pull your face closer to his. He then removes his hand from your neck and both of his hands meet your thighs, sneaking them under your dress. 

He pauses and meets your gaze, “Are you sure?” He’s breathing heavily.

You smile, “I’m always sure.” You pull his face toward you pressing your lips onto his. 

His hand reaches around to your back unzipping your dress. He slides the straps down over your arms. He pulls the dress down revealing your breasts. You stand giving him more access to take the dress fully off leaving you in just your lacy underwear. You wrap your arms around his neck as he walks you to the bed just a few feet away. 

Laying you down, he unbuckles his belt and takes his pants off along with his boxers. You prop up on your elbows, you can’t help but look him up and down. He notices and chuckles. He crawls up over you, your head resting on the pillow under you as you wrap your legs around his waist. He kisses you, your tongues tied. He pulls away, kissing down your body until he reaches your underwear line. He pulls them off sitting up, your legs lay against his chest with your ankles resting on his shoulders. He kisses from your ankle bending back down to kiss your inner thigh. 

You gasp as he flicks his tongue up and down your clit. Your hands grip the sheets as he forces his tongue deeper into you. You let out a soft moan, “Rafe…” 

He enters his fingers into you, your back arches at this pleasure. He licks up your body to your neck, your legs wrapping around his waist again. 

“Hi” He smiles at you, his eyes hazy.

You smile back, “Hi” 

His lips are pushed on yours, he pins both of your wrists in the mattress as he enters you. You moan into his mouth. His hips are thrusting into you. His mouth is on your neck. Your moans are loud as he grunts against your neck. 

You try to move your arms but he pins them harder. 

“Rafe..I’m gonna…oh” You moan and you arch your back. He looks at you, thrusting harder, faster. Your arms are still pinned. He’s sweating and breathing hard. He pulls out, letting out a tired sigh, smiling. He kisses you and then falls onto the mattress laying next to you and looks into your eyes. 

He pauses before he says, “I love you.”

Shocked, you sit up, not looking into his eyes. 

“What? What’s wrong?” He sits up.

“I-” You can’t get the right words out. “You love me? Are you serious?” You look at him. 

He looks taken aback. “Y-yes, is that okay?” He stammers.

You look at him, anger finally rising. “Is that okay?” You let out a pained laugh. “Is that okay? Rafe you cheated on me. So no, you don’t get to come here and have sex with me and then tell me you love me. I don't even know what i'm doing here with you." You scoff, your head in your hands.

“Y/n…what I did was wrong and I’m so sorry. I was drunk and that’s no excuse I know. I wasn’t thinking straight. She kissed me. I shouldn’t have let her. I regret it.”

Tears were filling your eyes. “You promised me.” You’ve lost it now. You're sobbing into your hands. 

“I know, I know and I’m so so sorry.” His voice was breaking. “I do mean it when I tell you I love you. I can promise you that.”

Your tears are falling uncontrollably. You don’t look up at him. “How do I know you won’t hurt me again?” 

“By giving me a chance. I promise you that it will never happen again. I love you.”

You want to believe him, you do believe him. Rafe lifts your chin up to meet his eyes. He kisses you deeply. You pull away, “Rafe...I need time. What you did hurt me. Let me have some time to think it over okay?” 

Even though you had sex, you still feel angry with him.

He sighs. "Okay. I understand."

You get up and throw your clothes and shoes on. You head toward the door and stop. You turn to look at him, he was getting dressed.

"Rafe?"

He looks up. "Hm?"

"I'll call you." You force a smile and walk out the door.

You head through the crowd of people, tears rolling down your face.

What am I doing? I'm not thinking straight.  You thought to yourself as you found your car. You didn’t know what you were doing. All you knew was that he won. He got you back.

I'm not sure if this is good or not, please let me know how you like it!

[wyvernspirit]

So after watching all of Jentry Chau Vs The Underworld in the past 2 days I've quite a bit to say

This show needed to be two seasons long, I feel half my critiques would probably not exist if it got the runtime it deserved

Kit had the most interesting character arc and was done the most dirty of everyone by the lack of runtime later in the season and also the characters around him??? Can everyone stop treating Kit like shit for two seconds please??

I at multiple points went "God this feels like arcane levels of Greek tragedy" so it has that going for it

If it has ended as a season 1 on episode 9 (I think? The episode where she's out on the field and Cheng revived his daughter then the portals are opened) it could have been a really solid set up for a season 2, but unfortunately the next final episodes feel incredibly jam-packed and rushed with no room to breathe

The music and fight scenes were arguably the best part of the show, there was some really interesting "camera" work too

I didn't like how Michael basically played with 3 girls feelings for the whole show, particularly sorry to girl from the last episode who doesn't even get a name as far as I can tell

(also the way he went "and Kit did you love him too??" as some kind of snap back to Jentry like HE DIDNT LITERALLY JUST DIE MICHAEL CAN YOU STFU FOR TWO SECONDS NOT THE TIME)

Michael kinda just sucked? Like I wanted to like him but he's very meh to me and I'm sorry but the reveal of him actually being really bad at the flute just, threw me off completely especially because instruments are expensive!! He didn't buy it on a whim, the whole thing is he's supposed to have this deep passion for music but like it's not really reflected at all?? There's not even any conversations between him and Jentry about music outside band tryouts

And him having powers I guess could have been set up for a season 2 but we end this season really conclusively? All the plot threads and character arcs wrapped up. Like if anything I could see a spin off with him maybe but- like I don't want one, I just could see that happening

Actually to go back a paragraph for a second, that's something the show does a few times where it drops these very sudden interests of the characters and pretends they had them all along?? Like Jentry and baton twirling, like come on wouldn't it have made more sense if she got sought out by the school dance team or something?? Or just have her main spirit fighting weapon be a baton!! Show her having genuine interest in that aspect of spirit fighting and then have it reflect later in school? Like why did these girls see a video of Jentry dancing and go "Hey she could probably baton twirl!" that makes no sense!

The animation was really great! More than that even, I love the art style and art direction this show has, it really gave me some major inspiration! I want to draw some fanart really badly!!

Okay this a major IN MY OPINION, low-key I think the show might have been more interesting if it was just set in Seoul for the whole time, I preferred Jentrys friends there, I much preferred the environments and the colours the art direction had in the setting of Seoul

I didn't really care for Texas in the show and It made the feelings of her later questioning if she should return or not be hollow to me the viewer, because I was like OF COURSE SHE SHOULD

Stella is a character I have complicated feelings on! I really did not care for the minuet of Michael's introduction at school her getting weighed down as just "the girlfriend" character and how Jentry wasn't allowed form a meaningful connection to her until after Michael and her broke up, hell Stella basically gets forgotten by the plot until the last 4ish episodes, and IN THOSE she's a REALLY fun and strong character! I love how she started learning seals and was such a a big part of them winning that final fight at the school, which frankly I don't think she gets enough credit for

And while I find her blushing at Jentrys other friend cute it just makes me sigh because now I realize the show totally could have just done a "Fuck the boys" Jentry x Stella ship and I would have been totally down

Actually low-key I think my ideal is Kit and their Girlfriend Jentry and Jentrys Girlfriend Stella ((and I guess maybe Stella's boyfriend Michael if he got written better, but meh don't expect me to include him in the polycule if I ever write Fics/draw art for this show))

Also speaking of Kit god I would love them to be genderfluid or I guess it to be acknowledged? As queer and not just, because their a skin walker. Like you can read them that way because of them being a skin walker demon but like if it was acknowledged in the show after making Jentry's skin he experimented a little with how he looked as Kit and his sense of fashion and style!!

Idk I would have loved it, I have some strong feelings on how this show had hints of queerness but never actually acknowledged that queerness besides I guess Jentrys fake parents being like "So do you have a boyfriend?? ..or a girlfriend??" Which I mean, I guess, diversity win the cat spirits pretending to be your dead parents don't care if your gay!

I was very invested in the mysteries of the Chau family for the whole run I just wish that they had time to breathe, we went from one revelation to the next and each one hit just that little bit less because there was no down time given between them.

Okay overall though, it's going to be rotating in my mind like a microwave for the next two weeks I can tell

I don't know if it's strong enough to stick around as a major fixation but maybe a minor one where I occasionally get drawn back over the characters who had so much potential to me

I'd say a solid like 8/10

Yeah I know I just did all that whining and complaining

But I did genuinely enjoy most of the viewing experience and the ideas behind it

It was good, I think other people should give it a try, it deserves a lot more love and attention for sure

[dc418writes]

If You Can’t Stand the Heat…

✨Pairing✨: Brendan “Mid-Size Sedan”xblack!reader

Summary🪄: Your first Christmas with your boyfriend’s parents. What could go wrong?

🚨: allusion to a deceased parent, language, pretty much all fluff💕 (aside from an overbearing mother👀)

A/N🎤: Happy New Year and belated holidays🥂✨! So clearly this did not come out when I originally planned, but I still hope yall enjoy! Also stating the other obvious in the room, for those who have seen Old were ignoring the end this character saw and in my mind he is in fact alive and well🥰 (for those who haven’t seen, sorry for the spoiler lol)

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were found via Pinterest and Google*

“My baby boy!”

Brendan’s practically tackled by his own mother as she hurries into the brightly lit foyer hugging him tight while gently swaying back and forth. Her usual floral scent instantly takes him back to his childhood dancing around the living room and helping her in the kitchen - until his playful, mischievous ways would get the best of him that is.

“Hey ma,” he chuckles hugging her just as tight. Being away for most of the year, he admittedly missed her nearly crushing hugs.

“Cmon now Kat let the boy breathe.” Both arms attempting to carry all their luggage, his father, Devon, manages to close the door behind them using his foot. Not without needing to quickly rebalance himself from the shift of weight though. “So he can help with this luggage.”

“Oh, I got it!”

Both his parents seem to freeze at the new unfamiliar voice, quickly peeking past their son to the figure waving and moving closer. “Now who in the hell..?,” his mother thinks watching the black curls atop your head bounce with every step until you stop beside her son.

“Nah, it’s okay baby imma get it.”

And when he pecks your temple - making that sweet smile on your glossy lips brighten like the shimmering lights on the miniature Christmas tree in the corner - Devon can already see the flames and chaos swirling in his wife’s mind. “Oh lord, here we go.”

“Brendan,” although smiling herself, Katherine’s is clearly one mixed with confusion looking between the both of you, “w-who is your uh..little guest here?”

“This is my girl-,”

Everything muted after hearing that. Girlfriend? When did this happen? And why did she not know until now? Being his mother, she should’ve been the first to know! God knows what this little girl had planned up her sleeve for her innocent baby boy.

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” Katherine manages to snap out of her trance just in time to watch you move towards her with arm extended after shaking Devon’s hand. “Brendan’s told me so much about both of you.”

“Aw that’s so nice. Sadly I’ve heard nothing of you though sweetheart.” That hit you just as she expected, making your smile falter and dim as her son nervously rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Not that I wasn’t plannin’ to,” he quickly tries to rectify. “But from the interviews and studio sessions-,”

“The other week you sent me that beat you were working on. Sounds like a perfect time to me.”

Devon could read his boy just as well as his mother, and he might as well have ‘SOS’ tattooed on his forehead right about now. This ship was sinking faster than a boat made of Swiss cheese in the middle of summer, and he couldn’t just let him drown.

Quickly clearing his throat, he successfully gains everyone’s attention - for now at least, “B why don’t you uh show us around this place.”

-

Sat in the middle of the California king bed - white comforter and sheet just as pristine as fresh snow blanketing your newly washed and moisturized legs - you can’t stop replaying the events from dinner in your head. Overall you’d say it was nice, all of you talking and laughing while enjoying your homemade chicken pot pie. Brendan’s dad even complimented you saying it reminded him of something his own grandmother would’ve made.

Katherine, however, didn’t appear too impressed. About a few things besides the food really.

“It’s good sweetheart, a tad bit salty, but alright,” she curtly smiled. And maybe it was just you, but you wondered if that was just a teaser for things to come.

“Does your mom like me?,” you ask as soon as your boyfriend exits the bathroom with black, satin durag in hand.

“Course she does. Why? She say somethin?”

“No, I just…” you frustratedly sigh partly regretting bringing it up as you toy with the sterling silver chain around your wrist. Specifically the one that matched Brendan’s. “I dunno I get this feeling.”

Fingers securing the last knot, his hand reaches for yours pulling you closer into his side as he slides into bed himself. The mint from his lips prickling against your temple as he places two kisses there. “Bae everything’s fine, alright? If my ma had an issue, trust she’ll say it.”

•

“I don’t like her.”

Since closing the door to their hotel-like suite of a guest room, Katherine hadn’t stopped complaining and running her mouth about you.

“I bet she invited herself tryin to squeeze her way in.”

“I dunno where she got that recipe from but it ain’t all that. And you heard how she call herself decorating everything? Tuh, Ray Charles could do better.”

Devon just wanted to watch his Lakers in peace.

“Kat just give the girl a chance. You don’t even know her.”

“And I don’t want to,” she answers walking out the bathroom rubbing some sort of cream on her arms. “Brendan‘s soon gonna be over her like all the rest.”

“You never know,” her husband simply sighs, adjusting the pillow under his chin. To anyone else, it would just be a menial statement, however Katherine could sense there was something more her dear husband might be hiding.

Turning off the flatscreen and crossing her arms across her chest, Devon’s now equally as frustrated as his wife throwing his hands out with an “Aye!,” and silently wishing he snuck to the theater room while she was in the shower.

“You knew she was gonna be here didn’t you?”

“No!”

“But you knew about her,” she states pointing a signature red manicured finger.

He might as well forget about the game. She was gonna be at this all night. “Did he outright say something? No, but from what he asked I figured there was somebody.”

“Andd?,” she asks twisting her wrist, urging Devon to come out with the rest already. “What’d he ask?”

“Father son confidentiality,” he smirks holding his hands up in surrender.

“Bullshit, I carried that big headed boy for almost 10 months you better start talking Dee.”

He chuckles knowing she’d say that. “Stuff about our relationship: how I knew you were the one, being long distance, marriage-,”

“Marriage?! They just met!”

“We don’t know-,”

“Oh lord,” she gasps beginning to pace, “she’s pregnant!”

“Nah, I don’t think-,”

“That’s why he’s thinking of marriage, meanwhile jezebel thinking she’s gettin a free ride. And the baby might not even be his!”

His wife really needed to stop watching those made for tv movies. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, he can easily reach out and gently grip Katherine’s elbow guiding his worried wife to sit beside him.

“Relax alright? You gettin all worked up for potentially nothing,” he states pecking her temple.

“But-,”

“Get to know the girl, please. For the sake of Brendan.” Kat’s little huff is enough of an acceptable answer that he’s turning the tv back on hoping to finish the remainder of the game.

Katherine’s mind was already made up though, and this girl wasn’t about to mess with her baby and ruin everything he had. A mother’s intuition was never wrong, and she knew what needed to be done.

-

It had only been three days and you were sure you’d somehow been transported to hell at some point in your sleep. If it wasn’t her little comments about you, Katherine was either squeezing her way in your alone time with Brendan or finding a way to exclude you.

The movie night you and Brendan planned in the theater room when his parents were asleep? Crashed by her claiming she couldn’t sleep. The trip to a local tree farm to see all the Christmas lights that was supposed to be all four of you? She swears you told her you weren’t ‘feeling great’ before you went to the restroom, prompting them to leave you home.

“Maybe we can go again after Christmas?,” she suggested when they returned.

“Yea maybe,” you replied with your most saccharine smile similar to the one on her own lips.

With everyone still asleep upstairs, you took advantage of your alone time to bake your signature molasses cookies passed down to you from your mother. Like her, baking always brought you peace and filled you with fond memories of big laughs, messy hands, and flour in your hair and mysteriously on the ceiling.

“Momma I really need you right now,” you quietly speak to the open air as you mix your ingredients together finalizing your dough.

The sound of the hand mixer covers Katherine’s footsteps causing you to jump when you feel her presence over your shoulder.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare you.” You really hated that nickname. Especially when it came from her mouth and would then usually come with some snide comment. “Thought you heard me when I said good mornin.”

“It’s okay and no, my mind’s uh somewhere else.”

“Yea these cookies,” she smiles watching you cutout various holiday themed shapes. “Looks like you got a good mess here too.”

Here we go. Luckily your back was towards her as she readied her coffee, giving you freedom to roll your eyes without getting caught. “Yea, I know,” you nervously chuckle. “I’m almost done though so I’ll get to them in a minute.”

“S’why you should really clean as you go. Less to do in the end.”

“True, but I get so wrapped up with-,”

“Brown and regular sugar?,” she asks noticing both containers on the counter. “They’ll be too sweet.”

Was she really trying to tell you how to make something you’ve done since you were able to walk? “No, they’ll be fine. I’ve made it plenty times before.”

“Doesn’t mean it can’t be tweaked though,” she innocently shrugs.

“Also true,” you forcibly smile feeling your skin begin to heat with frustration, “but this one is fine. It’s my mom’s recipe.”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right sweetheart.” And at that, you snapped unable to take anymore. You left your mess, your tools, and dough just needing to get away before your mouth and anger made you do something you’d regret.

You didn’t even speak to Devon as you rushed past making his brows furrow not used to you in an unpleasant mood. Seeing his wife also in the kitchen - calmly drinking out of a mug - he can guess what might’ve been the cause though. “What did you do?”

“Nothin,” Katherine answers nonchalantly before dipping a spoon into the leftover dough for a taste. “Hm, not too sweet like she said. Girl a little Miss Betty Crocker.”

“You know who you actin like right?”

“I know you betta not say who I think.”

“And because you thinking it means it’s true,” he retorts. “Bein’ just like my momma.”

“Aht, take it back!,” she points her spoon placing her mug down. “That woman never liked me from the start and let me know it. Shoot I think she still don’t like me.”

“And you not doing the same thing? That girl’s been nothing but nice and respectful to you when anybody else would’ve been said something.

His words clearly have some affect how her once stubborn expression turns soft. Her previous actions and words now all she can think of reminding her of the woman she swore she’d never be like when she had kids.

“You know you wrong Kat.”

•

“Where you goin?,” Brendan asks watching you throw your clothes in your suitcase unzipped and wide open on the floor of his walk in closet.

“Home.”

“Home? Why you-,”

“Look I know you wanted all of us to be together for Christmas, but this ain’t working B,” you answer with watery eyes still focused on the task in front of you.

“What do you mean? Aye, stop and look at me.” Gently gripping your wrists, he manages to halt your frantic packing so you’ll meet his worried eyes turning a bluish hue. “Tell me what happened.”

“I can’t with your mom and her little comments anymore,” you quietly admit. “She clearly doesn’t like me and I’m not staying somewhere I’m not wanted.”

“You are wanted. This is my house and I say you stay, alright? My ma just…takes some getting used to. And once she warms up to you-,”

Such a momma’s boy answer. “You mean if she wants to warm up to me,” you retort slipping out of his grip to return to your packing.

“I get it,” Brendan sighs, “she can be a lot. It’s just how she is though.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to deal with or accept it for the sake of your comfort.”

“Hold up, you calling me weak now?,” he asks stepping closer to you.

Slamming your suitcase shut, your arms cross over your chest looking up at the 6’3 man in front of you not daring to stand down. “No, I’m saying you’re a loyal son, which I love. But that loyalty is putting me in an environment I don’t feel safe or protected in.” You hope his silence means he’s finally taking in your words. “So I think it’s best I leave.”

He tries once more to clutch your arm as you pass, softly calling out your name, but you move just out of reach. “I’ll text when I get to my place.”

-

At the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, Katherine quickly stands to see you with your suitcase and Brendan on your heels trying to get your attention.

“Bae I’ll handle it, just stay. Please,” he whispers.

“My Uber’s already on the way,” you reply sniffling.

“You can’t leave!,” she states making you pause just as the both of you finish your decent. One look at your reddened, tired eyes from crying and she can feel her heart break knowing she was the cause. “Listen I-,”

“Ma I don’t know what the problem is, but you need to relax,” Brendan interrupts standing in between the two most important women in his life.

“Brendan-,”

“Look I love you ma, but I can’t have you mistreating the other woman I love.” His head turns towards you - twists swishing back and forth - so you can see the sincerity and deep love behind those hypnotizing eyes. Their intensity making you breath catch in your throat and more tears ready to run. “My future wife and mother of my kids.

Even Katherine’s ready to sob at her son’s words. Anyone could see the love between you two, and at the end of the day she knew you were good for Brendan - bringing out the best in him and making him happier than she’s seen in a while - but her protective, mothering nature just couldn’t accept she might not be needed anymore.

“Thank you,” you mouth reaching for his hand to peck his knuckles.

“So whatever issue you got, handle it now or else don’t worry about coming back,” Brendan finishes with you under his arm.

“Excuse me?,” Katherine asks with an amused tilt to her lips and hands on her hips. He could feel everyone looking at him as if he’d lost his mind with that last statement, and while it felt good he admittedly might’ve gone too far.

“R-Respectfully I mean,” he quickly corrects.

“I’ll let it slide this time,” she says jokingly smacking his shoulder. “You’re right though. This whole trip I haven’t given your lovely girlfriend a chance and I’m sorry. I’ve had that happen to me and know how much it hurts, so I should’ve known better. That mama bear decided to rear her head and got the best of me.

She sighs wiping away the couple tears that managed to fall on her cheeks, “You two really do make a beautiful couple and I’m glad my boy met someone truly good for him. I’m so sorry again and know it’ll take some time, but hope you can eventually forgive me.”

“Thank you for apologizing,” you softly smile, “and hey, can’t have the holidays without some drama right?”

“I guess not,” she giggles along with Brendan and Devon. “But from here on out no more.”

Holding out her arms, she’s a bit surprised when you immediately accept her hug. Both of you holding each other tight as if the morning’s earlier events never happened. “To new beginnings and starting over.”