#stray dealer just wants to go home with you

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 14

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions of death, funeral setting

Y/n’s POV

The soft chime of the bell above the bridal studio’s door signals the end of my shift. I tidy up the counter, brush a few stray threads from my clothes, and grab my bag. It’s been a long day of fittings and consultations, but my excitement about tonight keeps me energized.

Chris is meeting my parents tonight. The thought alone sends a nervous flutter through my stomach, but it’s a good kind of nervous.

On my way out, I stop by the cafe down the street to grab two lattes and a croissant for Willow. It’s become something of a tradition to visit her after my shifts, especially when I need a pep talk. With everything going on tonight, I need her calming advice more than ever.

Willow’s apartment is buzzing with energy when I arrive. She’s blasting music in the kitchen while unpacking groceries, a pair of fluffy slippers on her feet.

“You’re a lifesaver” she says, grabbing the coffee from my hand and taking a sip. “Ugh, perfect. Come in, sit!”

I settle onto her couch, pulling the croissant out of the bag and sliding it across the table to her. “Figured you could use this.”

“You know me too well” she says with a grin, taking a bite.

As she eats, I fill her in on the news. “So.. my parents are meeting my boyfriend tonight.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “BOYFRIEND?!”

I nod, though the flutter of nerves in my chest betrays me. “Yeah, it feels right. I mean, he’s really trying, you know? So he’s coming over for dinner.”

Willow leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studies me. “How’s he doing after today, though? With the funeral and all?”

I freeze mid sip of my coffee. “Funeral?”

Her expression shifts, suddenly cautious. “Wait, he didn’t tell you?”

I shake my head, my mind racing. Why didn’t he mention this? Now I feel stupid.

“Yeah” Willow continues, her voice softer now. “I heard it was today, Chris must’ve been there.”

I nod slowly, unsure how to process this new information. A funeral. A funeral. And he hadn’t said a word to me about it.

Part of me feels hurt, like I’ve been left out of something important. But the other part of me, the rational part, knows why he didn’t tell me. He’s trying to protect me, to keep me away from the darker parts of his world.

Still, it stings.

Willow must notice the shift in my expression because she reaches over and places a hand on my arm. “Hey, don’t overthink it. Chris probably didn’t want to stress you out with everything going on. He’s dealing with a lot.”

“I know” I say, my voice quieter than I intended. “It’s just.. I want him to feel like he can tell me these things, you know?”

Willow nods, her eyes sympathetic. “You’re in a tricky spot, Y/n. But he’ll come around. Just give it time.”

I glance at my phone and realize how late it’s gotten. “Shit, I need to get going. I have a million things to prep before dinner.”

Willow grins, her mood lifting again. “Go knock em dead. And text me after, I need all the details.”

“You’ll be the first to know” I promise, grabbing my bag and heading for the door.

As I start the journey home, my mind is buzzing with thoughts. Chris and I have come so far, but there’s still so much I don’t know about his life. Maybe tonight will be a step toward bridging that gap.

When I get to my house, I take a deep breath. Time to focus. Tonight isn’t just about meeting my parents, it’s about taking the next step, together.

Chris’ POV

The air outside the church was heavy, the kind of suffocating weight that sticks with you after saying goodbye to someone you cared about. Nate and I stood in silence as the crowd dispersed, the murmurs of the attempted hit at the funeral still fresh in my mind.

“You hear that shit?” Nate finally spoke, his voice low but brimming with anger. His jaw was clenched tight, and his hands balled into fists at his sides.

I nodded, keeping my gaze on the ground. “Yeah, I heard. It’s messed up, man. Who does that at a funeral?”

“It’s more than messed up” Nate snapped, turning toward me. His eyes were bloodshot from crying, but now they burned with rage. “It’s a straight up declaration of war. At Danny’s funeral, Chris. Do you understand what that means?”

I did, and it made my stomach churn. Whoever tried to pull this off wasn’t just sending a message they were escalating things in the dirtiest way possible. It wasn’t just about Crimson and H-Block anymore, it was personal.

“What do you wanna do?” I asked carefully, knowing full well Nate was on the verge of boiling over.

“What do I wanna do?” he repeated, his voice rising. “I wanna find out who did it and make them pay. No one disrespects my cousin like that.”

I grabbed his shoulder before he could start pacing. “Nate, you gotta keep it together. If Vince catches wind of this before you calm down, he’ll drag you into something you might not come back from.”

“And you think I’m just supposed to sit here and do nothing?” he shot back.

I didn’t have an answer for that. Nate was right to be angry, and it wasn’t like I didn’t feel the same way. But going off the rails wouldn’t bring Danny back, and it definitely wouldn’t stop whatever was coming next.

I felt like I was being pulled in two different directions. On one hand, Nate needed me. He was barely holding it together, and leaving him alone after what just happened felt like a betrayal. On the other hand, I’d made a promise to Y/n. Meeting her parents tonight was a big deal, and I couldn’t just bail.

“You’re not alone in this” I said after a moment. “But we gotta be smart about it. If we make a move now, it’ll only give Vince more of a reason to lose it. Let’s figure out who’s behind it first, then we’ll decide what to do.”

Nate stared at me, his expression a mix of fury and frustration. For a second, I thought he was going to argue, but then he exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if I find out who it was before you do, I’m handling it my way.”

I nodded, even though his words made my chest tighten. There was no stopping Nate once he set his mind on something.

“Listen, I’ll check in later tonight, okay?” I said, trying to sound confident.

“Why? You got plans or something?”

I hesitated. “Yeah. I promised Y/n I’d meet her parents tonight. Dinner in hers.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed. “You’re ditching me for dinner? After everything that just happened?”

“It’s not like that” I said quickly. “This is important, too. I have to show her I’m serious about us. You know that.”

He scoffed, turning away from me. “Whatever, man. Go play house. I’ll deal with this on my own.”

“Nate-”

“Just go, Chris. You’ve got your priorities.”

The words hit harder than I expected. I wanted to stay, to make sure he didn’t do something reckless, but I couldn’t let Y/n down. Not tonight.

I sighed, running a hand over my face. “I’ll be back after dinner. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

He didn’t respond, just waved me off as he walked toward his car.

As I headed to my own car, the weight of everything pressed down on me. Nate was right, this wasn’t just about me anymore. If Vince found out about the attempted hit, there’d be hell to pay. And if Y/n’s family got even a hint of the world I was wrapped up in, things could fall apart before they even began.

Tonight wasn’t just a dinner, it was a balancing act. And one wrong step could send everything crashing down.

Y/n’s POV

The smell of garlic and rosemary filled the kitchen as I put the finishing touches on the roast chicken. Cooking wasn’t something I did often, but tonight felt special enough to make the effort. Mom had already filled Dad in on the whole boyfriend meeting the family situation, which saved me from the nerves of breaking the news myself. He didn’t say much when she told him, just gave a nod and asked what time dinner would be ready. Typical Dad.

At 6:15, I sent Chris a quick text:

“Hey, let me know when you’re on the way :)”

I set my phone on the counter and busied myself slicing vegetables for the side dish, trying not to obsess over every little detail. The table was already set, candles in the middle, the good silverware out, and plates that matched that's how much I wanted this to go smoothly.

By the time the clock read 6:30, my phone buzzed.

“On my way.”

I smiled, though a part of me couldn’t help but feel conflicted. My mind drifted back to what Willow had mentioned earlier about the funeral. Chris hadn’t told me about it. He was probably trying to protect me, but it stung a little, knowing he’d gone through such a heavy day without letting me in on it.

I couldn’t shake the guilt, either. Taking him away from Nate on a day like this felt wrong. It hit me then just how serious Chris must be about me. He was choosing to be here, despite everything else going on in his life. That realization made my chest tighten in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

Another buzz pulled me from my thoughts.

“Here.”

I grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe my hands and headed for the front door, my heart thumping a little harder with each step. I took a deep breath, opened it, and there he was, standing on the porch in a black button up shirt and dark jeans, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Hey” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips.

The sight of him took my breath away for a moment. He looked good, better than good, but his eyes were tired, a heaviness lingering behind them that I knew came from the day he’d had. But I don’t think this is the right time to say anything.

“Hi” I said, my voice catching slightly. I cleared my throat and stepped aside to let him in.

“These are for you.” he said, holding out the flowers.

They were simple, red roses. But something about the gesture made my heart flutter.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you” I said, taking them and stepping aside so he could come in.

“Smells amazing in here” he said as he walked into the hallway.

“I decided I’d cook tonight. Felt like the right occasion” I said, trying to sound casual as I led him toward the dining room.

Chris nodded, glancing around the house. “It’s nice. Feels.. homey.”

“It is..” I trailed off, before I started rambling. “Anyway, my parents are in the living room. Ready to meet them?”

He hesitated for half a second, but then he nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

I led him into the living room, where my parents were seated on the couch. Mom stood first, her warm smile instantly breaking the ice.

“You must be Chris” she said, stepping forward to shake his hand.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you” Chris said, his voice steady but polite.

Dad stood next, giving Chris a firm handshake and a nod. “Welcome to the house, son.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As they exchanged pleasantries, I caught a brief flicker of nervousness in Chris’s eyes. He was doing his best, but I could tell this wasn’t easy for him.

“Dinner’s ready” I announced, hoping to move things along. “Let’s eat.”

As we all headed to the table, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at Chris. He’d shown up for me today, even with everything he had going on. And as conflicted as I felt about some of it, one thing was clear, he was trying. For me.

Chris’ POV

By the time I pulled up outside Y/n’s house, my nerves were shot. It wasn’t just the day weighing on me, Danny’s funeral, the whispers, Nate’s rage, but the thought of sitting across from her parents, trying to fit into their polished world, made my stomach churn. I glanced at the flowers in the passenger seat, hoping they’d help me make a good first impression.

The house was cozy but big, sitting on a quiet street that screamed stability and comfort, two things I wasn’t exactly overflowing with. I stepped out of the car, straightened my shirt, and grabbed the flowers, making my way to the door.

Y/n opened the front door, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw me. She looked.. incredible, dressed casually but effortlessly perfect.

“Hey” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I held out the bouquet. “These are for you.”

Her smile widened, and she took the flowers, her fingers brushing mine for a second. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

I stepped inside, instantly hit by the smell of something amazing coming from the kitchen. “Smells incredible in here,” I said, trying to focus on anything other than how my pulse seemed to quicken every time I looked at her.

“I cooked tonight,” she said, leading me toward the dining room. “Figured it was a special occasion.”

“It definitely is,” I said, managing a small smile.

The living room was warm and inviting, her parents sitting on the couch as we walked in. Y/n introduced us, and I reached out to shake her mom’s hand first.

“You must be Chris,” her mom said, her smile kind but curious.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” I replied, feeling a little more at ease.

Her dad stood next, his handshake firm, his eyes sharper. “Welcome to the house, son.”

“Thank you, sir” I said, keeping my tone polite but not too stiff.

After a few minutes of pleasantries, Y/n led us all to the kitchen. The table was set perfectly, and the meal she’d made looked like something straight out of a cookbook. I sat down, feeling a little out of place at the polished table but determined not to show it.

The small talk started as we dug into the food. Her parents asked me the usual questions, where I grew up, what I liked to do, and I tried to answer as smoothly as I could. But the longer we talked, the more I couldn’t help but notice how put together they were. Everything about them, from the way they spoke to the way they carried themselves, screamed stability.

Meanwhile, I felt like a mess, a guy with a patchy past, walking on thin ice between two worlds.

“So” her dad said, setting his fork down and leaning forward slightly. “How did you two meet?”

I glanced at Y/n, and she smiled, stepping in to help me out.

“We met through mutual friends when we were fifteen” she explained. “We hung out a lot that summer, but then we just.. drifted apart.”

“Life happens” her mom said with a nod.

“Exactly” Y/n agreed, her gaze flicking to me as if to say you’re doing great.

And then her dad hit me with it – the question I’d been dreading all night.

“So, Chris” he said, his tone casual but pointed. “What do you do for work?”

For a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I set my glass down carefully, trying to keep my expression neutral.

“I, uh..” I started searching for the right words, the ones that wouldn’t make me sound like a complete disaster.

But what could I say? The truth wasn’t exactly an option, not here. My mind raced, and I glanced at Y/n, hoping for a lifeline.

“Freelance” Y/n said, cutting in before I could respond.

The words hung in the air, and I felt my chest tighten. Ground, swallow me up. It was a good save, sure, but it also stung a little. She knew that was my go to line when I didn’t want to get into details about what I actually do.

“Oh?” Her mom’s eyes lit up with interest, leaning forward slightly. “What kind?”

“Social media marketing” Y/n answered quickly, a polite smile on her lips.

Social media marketing? Jesus Christ. From the man with zero social media presence? I could barely keep my Instagram alive, let alone manage someone else’s.

“That’s fascinating” her mom continued. “I’ve heard it’s a really lucrative field these days.”

“Yeah” I said, clearing my throat and forcing a nod. “It’s definitely.. something.”

I glanced at Y/n, who gave me a subtle look that said just go with it. I appreciated the save, but I couldn’t help feeling like a fish out of water.

Her dad, however, seemed less convinced. He raised an eyebrow, clearly about to ask a follow-up question. “Do you work with specific clients or more general campaigns?”

Before I could stammer out an answer, Y/n swooped in again. “He works on a project basis” she said smoothly. “It’s more flexible that way.”

Her mom smiled, nodding in approval. “That sounds perfect for someone your age. Flexible, creative, it must keep you busy!”

“Oh, yeah. Busy,” I said, forcing a chuckle and taking a long sip of water to hide the fact that I was absolutely dying inside.

The conversation shifted to something else, thank fuck, but I could barely focus. I felt like an imposter sitting at this pristine table, in this perfect house, with these perfect people. Y/n’s parents seemed like the kind of couple who’d had their lives mapped out from day one. Stable careers, a beautiful home, kids who followed the plan.

And then there was me. Barely holding it together, juggling one lie after another just to keep my head above water.

Y/n’s hand brushed against mine under the table, pulling me out of my thoughts. She gave me a small, reassuring squeeze, as if to say it’s okay.

I squeezed back, grateful for her in that moment. Even if I didn’t feel like I belonged here, she was my anchor. I just had to make it through tonight without screwing it all up.

Suddenly, I felt a buzz in my pocket. Crap. My phone.

Y/n clearly felt it too, her hand slipped off my leg, her warmth replaced by a flicker of tension.

It buzzed again. And again.

Each vibration felt louder than the last, rattling through me like an alarm. God, I should’ve just turned it off.

Y/n’s dad looked up from his glass of wine, raising an eyebrow. Her mom followed his gaze, giving me a polite, curious smile. “Popular tonight, aren’t you?” she joked.

“Sorry about that” I muttered, trying to play it off as casually as I could. “It’s nothing important.”

But it kept buzzing. Over and over.

I glanced at Y/n, and her expression had shifted ever so slightly. Not enough for her parents to notice, but enough for me to catch the flicker of suspicion in her eyes.

“Maybe you should check it” Y/n’s dad said, his tone friendly but firm, the kind of tone that wasn’t really a suggestion.

Y/n was already shaking her head, smiling to defuse the situation. “He doesn’t have to, Dad. It’s probably just work stuff.”

“Yeah, work.. It’s nothing urgent. I’ll deal with it later.”

Except the buzzing stopped… only to start up again a second later.

Damn it, whoever it is calling me.

Her dad leaned back in his chair, clearly skeptical. “Must be a busy night in social media marketing” he quipped.

Y/n shot me a look. A small, apologetic one, but it was enough to say you’re making this worse.

I forced a laugh. “You’d be surprised. Campaigns don’t stop, even for dinner.”

“Mm” her dad hummed, still unconvinced.

The buzzing finally stopped, and I let out a silent breath of relief. But the damage was done. I could feel the tension hanging in the air, subtle but heavy.

Y/n’s mom, ever the optimist, changed the subject, steering the conversation back toward lighter topics. But I caught Y/n’s glance again, and this time, it was harder to read.

What was she thinking? Was she mad? Annoyed? Or just worried?

I shifted in my seat, the guilt already clawing at me. The funeral, the whispers of a hit, Nate’s grief, all of it had been piling up in the back of my mind, and now it was bleeding into this moment, ruining the one chance I had to prove to her parents that I could be someone normal. Someone stable.

But normal and stable didn’t come with constant buzzing phones, or lies about jobs, or friends who might not survive the night.

As the conversation went on, I did my best to focus, to smile, to play along. But inside, all I could think about was the messages and calls I knew were waiting for me. And how, once again, the life I was trying so hard to build with Y/n was colliding with the one I couldn’t escape.

As we finished up dessert, I followed Y/n into the kitchen, insisting on helping her with the dishes. Her mom and dad moved to the living room, their voices carrying faintly as they settled into a more relaxed conversation.

I rinsed a plate under the warm stream of water, my mind replaying the awkward moment earlier at the table. “I’m sorry about that job thing” I said, keeping my voice low. “I didn’t mean to put you in that spot. It must’ve been awkward for you.”

Y/n glanced at me, her soft smile instantly putting me at ease. “It’s fine, Chris. Really. They like you, I can tell. Don’t overthink it.”

“I just.. I worry, you know?” I admitted, setting the plate in the drying rack. “They’re so put together, so sure of everything. And I’m just..” I trailed off, shrugging.

She dried her hands and reached out, her touch light against my arm. “You’re you.” she said simply. “And that’s more than enough for me. Trust me, they see that too.”

Her words settled something in me. I leaned down and kissed her gently, feeling the warmth of her reassurance seep into me. But just as the moment softened, I felt it again, the buzz in my pocket.

I pulled back slightly, my stomach knotting as I hoped she hadn’t noticed.

“I think I might need to use the bathroom” I said quickly, my voice steady even as my heart raced.

Y/n didn’t seem suspicious, just gesturing toward the stairs. “There’s one right under there” she said.

I nodded, giving her a small smile before making my way out of the kitchen. My steps felt heavier with every buzz I’d felt on my phone.

Once inside the bathroom, I locked the door and leaned against it, pulling out my phone with shaky hands. The screen was lit up with a mess of notifications, missed calls, unread messages, demands.

Nate:

"Where are you, man?" (47m ago) "We found out who tried to make a hit earlier on. Going to fuck him up." (43m ago)

Vince:"Need you to cover a run. Meet at Dock." (33m ago) "Big hits tonight. Need you now." (29m ago) "?" (22m ago) "You have 30 mins to get here." (3m ago)

Thirty minutes. I had thirty minutes to figure out how the hell to get to the docks without tearing everything apart.

I leaned against the sink, gripping the edge like it might steady me. My chest felt tight, and my mind raced. They didn’t just "ask" for things, especially not Vince. They demanded. And missing a demand didn’t come without consequences.

But this wasn’t just about me. If I bailed tonight, it wouldn’t just be me in trouble. Nate could be left dealing with the fallout alone.

I stared at the mirror. My reflection was a mess of worry and panic. I ran my hands through my hair, took a deep breath, and tried to figure out my next move.

I slipped back out of the bathroom, tucking my phone deep into my pocket like I could bury the problem there. Making my way into the kitchen, I found Y/n putting away plates. She looked so at ease, so normal. I hated how I was about to ruin that.

“Hey” I started, my voice low, “I’m not feeling great. I think I need to head home and sleep this off.”

She turned to me, frowning slightly. “Are you okay? You didn’t seem off earlier.”

“Yeah, it just hit me” I lied, forcing a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to cut the night short.”

I could see the disappointment in her eyes, but she covered it quickly with a soft smile. “It’s okay” she said. “Dad’s already passed out in a food coma, so I doubt he’ll even notice.” She paused, searching my face. “You sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need some rest.”

She reached out, brushing her hand against my arm. “Alright. Go home and feel better, okay?”

I leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss, lingering just a moment longer than I should’ve. Part of me didn’t want to leave her, but I knew I had no choice.

I slipped into the living room to say goodbye to her mom, who was already halfway through a glass of wine. “Thanks for having me, Mrs. Y/l/n” I said, keeping my tone as polite as I could manage.

“Of course, Chris. See you soon!” she replied with a warm smile.

I walked out of the house, the cool night air hitting me like a slap. My chest felt heavy, but my feet moved fast. I wasn’t ready for this, none of it. Not Nate’s vengeance. Not Vince’s demands. Not the lies I was weaving into my time with Y/n.

As I got into my car, I stared at my phone again. Thirty minutes. Less, now.

I didn’t even start the engine before slamming my fist against the steering wheel.

“What the fuck am I doing?” I muttered to myself.

I had no answer. Only more questions, and no time to figure them out.

With a deep breath, I started the car and pulled onto the road. I wasn’t ready, but readiness didn’t matter anymore. It never did in this life.

a/n: its become more and more obvious to me that im shadow banned so i appreciate everyones interactions 🥲🥲

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside

[aeneidjellyfish]

CONGRATULATIONS!

DEALER ……. 1

plz keep it.^^

[velvetures]

Vulnerable pt.1?

A/N: A not-so-little thing I've had for a few weeks, and wanted to see if a part two was something anyone would be interested in reading. If so, please let me know. Summary: You try and get Ghost to relax after a harsh mission and find a bit of a quiet moment. T/W: not proofread :)

Bad intel led to you and your Lieutenant being nearly hunted down and killed by a not-so-small group of arms dealers who caught on quickly to the pair of foreigners lingering just a little bit too close to their sheltered storage garage right in the middle of a market district in the South East. The task force assumed sending in an entire squad would be overkill just for some simple recon information and decided that you and Ghost would be the perfect pair for the job. ‘In and Out…’ Price had said quite offhandedly, sliding the prepared information in two files across the table to you. Only Price’s sources hadn’t double-checked if the area was secure enough for them to enter without full backup on standby. Not necessarily a lethal kind of mistake when bringing you and the Lieutenant into the equation, but there were too many close calls and stray bullets that were clearly heard for either of you to feel super confident in getting away unscathed.

Your only savior was a small farmhouse that had been recently abandoned due to the illegal and dangerous activity that had been surrounding the small city. Modest in size with two bedrooms and running water. Perfect for a makeshift safe house to keep the trackers off your asses until an extraction could be arranged and put into motion. Contrary to belief, the 141 didn’t have the bottomless pit of resources everyone believed they had at their disposal. Which included access to evac and trained air-support teams. This wasn’t a big mission that had a lot of working parts and multiple organizations involved that had enough liquidated funds to through out for a helo and heavy gunners to rescue two operators from the middle of who-the-fuck-knows-where.

That means with busted equipment, inoperable comms, hardly enough ammunition to fight out of a wet paper bag, and zero way of knowing when and if you’d be rescued, there was nothing left to do but try and relax in one of the most difficult predicaments. It left you searching through cabinets for maybe some kind of food to keep the both of you while Ghost did one of his favorite things. Pacing the house from window to window looking for the slightest bit of movement. The trouble being, there wasn’t anything for at least two miles in any direction. The people who owned this place were farmers of some sort, and had placed their home right in the middle of crop fields that gave a very advantageous sightline. While that information gave you quite a bit of comfort, it was not effecting Ghost positively in the slightest.

Your relationship with the Lieutenant was complex, to say the least. When you were first introduced it was for a succession of short co-op missions that were nothing if not brief and very impersonal leaving you with more questions than answers about the man who stayed hidden under the mask. Through some talks that you hadn’t been privy to being in the room for, John Price decided that your skills would be more useful to Task Force 141 than for the U.S. Division of Clandestine Service and offered you a position that you couldn’t possibly decline.

By day-in and day-out contact with Ghost, you got a lot more comfortable with him and learned much of his little idiosyncratic behaviors. Maybe a little too well…. He didn’t particularly act much differently towards you in the grand scheme of things, but something in you felt like trust had been developed to where he could depend on you when the situation called for it.

“Go hit the rack, I’ll take first watch.” He called gruffly from the living room where he had moved a chair from the kitchen to sit facing the front door head on with his MP5 resting lazily on his chest.

You couldn’t help but notice just how damn tired he looked under all that gear and through the black smeared around his eyes. He couldn’t be carrying less than one hundred pounds on him right now; even sitting in that chair with it wasn’t a good enough solution. Let you take a moment or two for yourself, stripping out of your tac vest and heavily weighted gear to drop it on top of the kitchen counter with a little grunt. Two days ago you both got the luxury of sleeping, and since then it’s been nothing but being on the run.

This would be the safest place for you that wasn’t in the belly of an evac bird, and the thought of Ghost not taking the time to sleep sat in your mind like a lead sinker. Leaning against the doorway and watching him for a long moment, you start having thoughts. Dangerous thoughts. Ones that normally wouldn’t surface if you’d been able to separate working with Ghost from the more personal aspect of literally sharing almost every part of your life with him. Thoughts about how you could make him feel better… even if just for the night. That no one was around for miles and whatever happened could safely stay between the pair of you.

By utter carelessness of your position with the team or lack of fear about how the Lieutenant might respond, you walk into the living room and kneel down right in front of him with your fingers reaching out to unlace his dusty boots. Off instinct alone, you expected and watched as his foot flinched away from you. His whole body jumps and stiffens at the contact and sight of you kneeling on the floor. He quickly pauses and collects himself, taking several moments before his gravelly voice breaks the silence.

“What’re you doin’ Sergeant?” His eyes grew heavy and showed more expression than the rest of his massive body as they flashed with confusion and a little swell of anger. That aloofness didn’t hide that slight guardedness of something that made him uncomfortable in one way or another.

“I’m perfectly capable of takin’ care of my fuckin’ self.” He adds with zero discernible sign of either offense or gratitude. You can’t help but smile tiredly, feeling like you’re attempting to soothe a feral wolf into letting you pull it’s paw out of trap.

“I never said you couldn’t L.T.,” You reply gently, reaching back to start unhooking the laces from their claws on his left foot. “Just thought you couldn’t use some affection.” Smirking to yourself, you can’t help but think something this small being considered ‘affection’ didn’t fit anyone save for Ghost. He was just too hard to approach. Walls so thick and tall that it would take someone with patience beyond that of a human to break through and see what rested behind all of that brash posturing and icy disposition.

“You know affection is something I’m averse to,” he utters, watching yet making no effort to stop you. “What you’re doin’ is unnecessary.” A small sound close to a growl escapes from behind the mask when my hand reaches to the back of his leg to help aid my effort of pulling his boot off.

Chuckling softly and sitting the boot down at your side you respond, “I know you don’t like affection,” You’re already working on the other one, purposefully moving slowly as not to overwhelm or spook him. “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it, L.T..” You can’t help but look up at him almost exhaustedly yet still trying to be reassuring.

“M’fine without it.” He spits out quickly, looking away from your face back down to your progress on the laces, his masked face otherwise unreadable. “Didn’t ask you for this shit, Sergeant.” Tinged with an undercurrent of irritation his deep voice sounds near the bridge of turning to anger.

“Mothering me isn’t in your best interest.” He growls low and threateningly in your face as he bends down to grab the boot sitting next to you and giving it a quick look of observation before sitting it back down closer to him. You just finish taking off his other boot and sit it down next to the other without much more of a verbal fight and put a hand on his thigh to steady your sore legs as you get back up to your feet.

“I’m younger than you Ghost, I can’t mother you.” You reply, holding out your hand for him.

He doesn’t make note or stop you from using him to help yourself up, however, Ghost follows your movements carefully… closely. He’s doing everything in his power to hide his emotions, but there’s still a faint twitch of his lips when he looks down at his boots sitting at his side. You’d done something very unusual, and he knew berating you was what he should’ve done. Yet a flinch of a smile was what really moved Ghost’s mouth. It’s gone before it even surfaces, pushed down by the sight. of you holding out your little hand in front of him. The sounds of his deep breathing fill the quiet house as you both sit there unflinching of each other. The Lieutenant shifts in his chair, readjusting his rifle on his chest.

“Go to bed. It’s late.” His repeated command felt softer now. Wavering a bit with you hand still held out and your fingers wiggling a little.

“Come on,” You hold steady and patient.

Reward comes in the form of feeling Ghost’s heavy and large hand falling into yours and gripping just hard enough to allow you the phantom sensation that you’re actually helping him up from the chair, hearing a short grunt as his back straightens up. Without explanation, you lead the Lieutenant through the small house back towards the only bedroom in the house with an actual bed left behind by the owners, pulling him to the center of the room and turning around to face him.

“Put your arms up for me.”

“Excuse me?” Ghost’s frown can be heard from behind the mask. Despite his apparent bewilderment, he hesitantly obeys, extending his arms above his head with an exhale of a tense breath, looking down at you with dark and questioning eyes. “What are you doing now?”

You just smile and hum to yourself softly, reaching out to begin unclipping and unzipping the sections of his tac vest holding it on his upper body and the multiple ammo belts. Carefully draping them over you shoulder as you release his body from them one by one. Seeing the way Ghost’s body sinks into itself with the weight being pulled off after days without rest. You feel his eyes scan over you, over your hands finding ways to take off his gear for the first time in your life, feeling your way through sunch an unusual yet careful act.

“Bein’ fuckin’ ridiculous…” He growls, covering up the feelings of not being so concealed by barking at you a little.

“Shhh.” Your hush does enough to stop his quiet and brooding complaints.

Long enough for you to kneel back down at his feet and work at the thigh straps over his pants and even remove the ankle holster you’d left alone while taking off his boots. He doesn’t resist this part, just watching you undress him bit by bit with half a mind questioning just what had happened for you to start acting so strangely. You’d always been sweet. Much nicer than your job allowed for. Yet even this was quite off the edge of the character Ghost had built for you over the years. This felt downright intimate for just two operators to be doing.

Then again your shared situation wasn’t exactly one of professionalism at this point. You’d been improvising for nearly a full day just trying to stay alive. Once back on your feet, you take hold of his hand again, this time with a little less caution since you’d already touched him there, and begin pulling at the fingertips to slide his sand and dirt-cakes gloves off. Even seeing his bare skin under his gloves be seen in the dim lamplight of the house, Ghost doesn’t do more than flex his fingers once you’ve rid him of the stiff material.

Purposefully avoiding his mask, you get Ghost down to nothing more than boxers and a t-shirt, even with his help at certain parts without him growling more or acting like you were irritating him. While he still gave off a feeling of all-around grumpiness and more than a little confused as hell, you paid it no mind as you led him towards the edge of the bed and pointed to it with a short yet polite command for him to ’sit’. Right away you noticed his hesitation and the way that his shoulders and arms tensed, his attention solely on you, flashing between your eyes and mouth like he was trying to reassure himself that he’d heard you correctly. But with one small tug on his hand, he turns around and sits on the bed with his feet resting on the floor and his arms braced on both sides of him a little stiffly.

“Now what?” His voice held a bit of rasp to it as he tracked your movement from his side, seeing you climb up into the bed and position yourself on your knees behind him. The close proximity didn’t go unnoticed by the Lieutenant as he cleared his throat, once again interrupting the calm silence in the house. His tension filled the small space between you, heating the gap of air, almost electrifying it.

“Just relax Ghost.” Easily touching his shoulders, you begin working your palms flat against the slopes of his muscled neck.

Purposefully but gently rubbing at the stiff cords of muscle and introducing the sensation to him as easily as possible in the case that it was a bit too overwhelming for him all at once. You knew you’d pushed the boundaries with him much further past anything you’d expected to achieve in one night. But now that he was sitting here in front of you, it was hard not to smile brightly that he was trusting you so much. Allowing your hands to be on him. Accepting that you had positioned the both of you in a very vulnerable position that could lead to a lot more violent options than affectionate ones. Torture and nightmares had given more than a fair share to Ghost, yet he was patiently staving off his own clear hesitation so that you could play out whatever this was turning out to be.

Your command went unacknowledged just like all of Ghost’s from earlier had; His breathing steadily slowing down into a deep and rich, relaxed sort of rhythm. Power of your hands and calming attitude worked faster than you anticipated, leaving the massive man sitting between your thighs begin to release. Tension falling out of his body not only under your hands but by sight of his jaw loosening. You’re even lucky enough to spot him trying to take glances at you from the corner of his eye, only to look back ahead since you were in quite the blindspot. Taking your thumbs in a sweeping motion from the edges of his shoulders inward, you apply pressure on the back of his neck and experimentally reach higher up under the hem of his mask. A dangerous game to play. Rumbling sounds of appreciation filling your ears are better than any sort of medal you could earn or bet you’d ever cash in. His head rolls back slightly with each small circle of your thumbs and fingers, pushing against you. Silently asking for more pressure.

“Feel good?” You ask at just a whisper, not wanting to disturb the warm sort of feeling the room has right now by speaking too loud.

Under the safety of his mask, Ghost’s mouth curves into a smile hearing you. He rolls his head back again, arching slightly to accommodate your small hands struggling to find good purchase to keep working at the intensity he’d been hinting at. A much less controllable sound escapes his mouth when you begin working at a very sore spot he didn’t even know was present right at the base of his skull.

“Keep going,” His sleepy-sounding mutter makes your chest ache.

Grinning at the feeling of his harsh accent and sudden domestication you work away diligently down his back carefully and methodically so as to not miss a single thing. And while it’s not necessarily going to help him much, you go ahead and use your fingernails to gently scratch up and down. It’s then a groan interrupts your focus and you see Ghost shift on the edge of the bed. Believing you’d found the end of your time, you leaned back on your heels and expected him to get up and leave you in the bedroom alone. Watching him tug at his t-shirt and pull it over his head to toss it somewhere across the room was how you were told that Ghost did indeed want more. Only his shirt was getting in the way of something he wasn’t getting.

Hearing him give a deep sigh when your fingertips returned to his now bared skin gave you a rush of adrenaline and nearly caused you to wiggle happily that you’d been able to share this with Ghost. He leans back into you a little more, letting your hands and arms take more of the weight as he groans out;

“You’ve done this before.”

“Yeah, but not for a long time.” You answer, eyes smoothing over the muscles rippling as your hands work at them.

“You’re good,” He grunts, closing his eyes and zeroing in on how to focus his attention between your small hands working so efficiently and the conversation he’d begun. “How’d you get so good at it?” His head turns a little, trying to get at least one good look at you. He keeps shifting now, allowing him to keep you just in the edge of his periphery.

“Had a good teacher for a few years,” You answer, working in tight circles over a large ball of muscle fibers all collected just at the edge of his shoulder blade, earning another growling sound from the Lieutenant.

“Teacher? When?” He asks, giving a slow release of a deep breath giving a short indication that the muscle you’d been working to release was getting a bit uncomfortable. Pulling back for a moment just to give him and your hands a break, you hear him make a noise then lean back a little further, pressing his back against you almost like a dog wanting to be pet more.

“Don’t stop.” He requests in a husky tone. You chuckle aloud, returning your hands and taking a less aggressive approach by smoothing your palms over him in less-than-planned patterns, just enjoying feeling his tattooed and scarred skin under your hands as you think about how to answer him.

“A woman in London taught me,” you start, using your nails again on his skin softly. “In the year or so between my U.S. military discharge and acceptance into the task force with you.” You see the effect of your touch on Ghost as it takes him longer to respond and the way he keeps leaning more and more weight back into you, unable to keep himself from subconsciously trying to get closer. Wanting more whether he’d ever admit it or not. There’s no mistaking it between either of you, he’s enjoying this.

“I assume she was special to you.”

It was your neighbor just across the hallway from you. An older woman named Sarah. Eccentric in modern times, you’d always believed she must’ve been a force to be reckoned with when she wasn’t hindered by an aging body and an even more ailing mind. A massage therapist by trade, and a pianist by heart there wasn’t much that Sarah could accomplish without someone helping her once she became limited in movement living on the eighth floor of the apartment building you shared. Back then you didn’t have much in the way of contacts after leaving the country, and it led to a friendship with the old woman living across from you. Sharing stories, eating dinner together, grocery shopping together when she felt like going out, and trading some skills between each other. After telling Ghost this much with your fingers tracing out letters and shapes over his back, you can sense he’s listening carefully. And Ghost is feeling a slight fuzzy sensation building in the back of his brain, spreading out in a warm wave down to his fingertips and toes.

“She taught me massage since at the time I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with my life.” Your head falls to the side, examining how the lamplight shines on ghost and deepens the already significant definition in his physique.

Ghost falls against you even more, and this time he lets his head fall back against you. Trying to counterbalance his weight and keep both of you from falling backwards with just him limp he’s becoming, you wrap on arm around his neck and hold his head in the bend of your arm. He gives another sigh, and settles against you heavily. He. looks at you in silence out of the corner of his eye listening to your explanation.

“Why was she your only friend?” You can’t help but chuckle at his question, resting your chin on his opposite shoulder and bringing your other arm under his to begin scratching and rubbing at his chest, feeling deep and puckered scars littering nearly every inch of him.

“I didn’t know anyone else. And you know me well enough to know that I’m not exactly extroverted.” You smile, tracing lightly up and down his well-defined arm. Ghost couldn’t be more comfortable laid against you.

“Sorry to hear that.” His voice low and husky with his mouth so close to your ear. “She must call or ask about you…”

You shake your head. “No. She died just before I joined you all. Her mind was… failing her. And there was some kind of accident in the middle of the night The police told me she was likely trying to get to the bathroom and fell. She apparently died on impact… they didn’t say what, but I think her head hit something.” You explain quietly. “And you and I both know that means lights out. So she didn’t suffer.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he answers as softly as he can manage after hearing the darker part of your happy memories. “How did it become… intimate, like this?” He asks, nodding to the way you were leaned up against his back with your hand tracing over every inch of him that you could reach. The longer you’ve both let this go, the more boundaries get pushed further out of reach, making it hard for either of you to really know where it could end.

You smile with a blush creeping up your neck onto your cheeks, thankful you’re somewhat hidden out of sight. “This isn’t really what she taught me,” You mutter a bit quiet. “When i was massaging you… yes. That I got taught. But this, it’s… just me.”

Out of your sight Ghost’s face flushes slightly as well, his cheeks a warm rose-color. You’re touching him in a way that he’d never expected. But hearing that you’re not just doing it for… relaxation, it’s a heavy but welcome thought. And Ghost can’t help that his body reacts to it with chills raising all over his skin despite the house being perfectly warm. He lets out a deep breath focusing on your words, repeating him over just to ensure that you’re not saying it one way and him interpreting it differently due to your hands being all over him, making him feel so good. Mind racing, heart pounding, he truly realizes just how vulnerable he is under you at this moment.

“I can stop if you’d like?” You offer, preparing to move away from him.

“No,” His hoarse voice gives away his sudden dry mouth. No matter how much your touch is affecting his body, he’s not willing to stop you right now. You’ve crossed into a level of trust that he can’t think to make you abide by anymore. It’s a foreign feeling for him, but he wants to push through it. Hoping he can feel more of you if he just holds on a little longer to this.

“Don’t stop."

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated <3

[loveatfirstsim]

15+ mods for adding realism to your gameplay

i wanted to group mods that i use together for different kinds of gameplay, along with some brief explanations so i can come back later to reference if i ever needed to.

please remember that these are just my own preferences for mods. i will update this post as mods are added to my game.

explanations under the cut <3

the mods

🤍 basemental drugs (21+) by basemental 🤍 child birth mod by pandasama 🤍 education overhaul by a.deep.indigo 🤍 home regions by kuttoe 🤍 language barriers by frankk 🤍 pets everywhere by kuttoe 🤍 relationship & pregnancy overhaul by lumpinou 🤍 simnation travel by a.deep.indigo 🤍 simzlink by lot 51 🤍 wicked whims (18+) by turbodriver 🤍 all mods by simrealist

mod explanations

🤍 basemental drugs: add a partying element to your gameplay with this mod. you can assign dealers to sell you a variety of flavors of drugs, but don't get caught by the police! i'm pretty sure this mod comes with some aspirations and the 'adhd' trait.

🤍 child birth mod: i've only used this once so far, so i can't speak on it much. but the delivery is more like real life instead of a baby popping into existence. you have options for surgery machine, natural birth, c-section, and also at-home births in a pool! there's a new ultrasound feature added, too!

🤍 education overhaul: education career, preschool, new education enrollment options, boarding school, new projects and assignments, study different subjects, detention, field trips, snow days, new school hours, i'm just listing some of the main points of the mod. haha.

🤍 home regions: this mod keeps sims in their native region. this means that if you live in willow creek, you won't be getting any vampires coming to your home or neighborhood.

🤍 language barriers: every world is assigned a language that is natively spoken. most worlds use simlish, but there are other languages spoken that your sim can learn through simlingo or by having someone who speaks the language teach your sim. this mod is incredibly customizable, so be sure to read the instructions carefully!

🤍 pets everywhere: this brings stray animals, dog walkers, and more to every region/world and not just exclusively to brindleton bay.

🤍 relationship & pregnancy overhaul: simply put, it's an overhaul for relationships and pregnancy, lol. it adds menstrual cycles and more that i cannot put into words at this very moment.

🤍 simnation travel: this mod requires you to have a license, subway pass, bicycle, passport, etc. in order to travel to other regions. there's a whole application process for a passport and going to the dmv.

🤍 simzlink: this brings an internet service provider and a new career. you can sign up for an internet subscription and install a router and whatnot. it's also compatible with snbank by simrealist (linked before the cut!), so you'll actually get charged for basic or premium internet every "month". like real life, only the internet never goes out. lol. this mod goes more in-depth on their website. it's very thorough!

🤍 wicked whims: the nsfw version of wonderful whims. there are archetypes, attractiveness, and impressions that adds more depth to relationships. there's also a menstrual cycle in this mod (like rpo), but it can be turned off.

🤍 all mods by simrealist: it's literally in their name to make things more real! there's snbank and addons (financial center, bills), real estate, private practice, mortem, organic, and home and land co. just check out their site for the info on these because they're too good!

[itsanerdlife]

Mine to Take 14

Pairing: MC!Peter Parker-Stark x Barnes!Reader

Warnings: Violence. Language. Stalking. Strip Clubs. Death mentioned. Death threats. Sexual content/comments.

Returning home after bailing out without so much as a goodbye. Leaves a lot to deal with when I show up again. Only I’m not alone and this time I’ve got bigger issues than how I left.                   I left to find a normal life, but when you’re raised on chaos and crime, normal isn’t a fit. Now I need the club, and Peter. The two I ran out on without so much as a backwards glance.                 Facing Peter again isn’t something I’d ever be ready for, not after everything that went down the night I left. But I can’t outrun him and I, and without him I’m pretty sure I’m good as dead. Was coming home a good idea when it puts those I love at risk of someone killing them to get their hands on me?

“Hold on!” TC barks over the muttering and commotion of the table. Everyone settles down slightly. “The guy, the dealer.” He snaps his fingers, something on the tip of his tongue.

“He had a brother!” Howie snaps his fingers pointing at his father.

“That’s right.” Tony nods, quickly. “His brother is a patched member of The Sinners.”

“You almost a fucked a Sinner?” Quill cuts his eyes up me, with distaste.

“Look at her like that again, I’ll fuck you up.” Howie growls out.

“Darlin’,” Peter swallows.

“I didn’t know, Peter.” I shift to look at him, still on his lap. “It’s not like you guys gave me a book of who to avoid and what to look out for.” He drops his eyes looking away. “I knew who was, who by the patches they wore. From cops to rival clubs.” I admit.

“I,” Luke leans forward, worry on his face “what, what happened to Karen?” He glances around.

Chin quivering softly, Peter cups my face, his thumbs brushing away stray tears.

“She, she died.” Howie’s head hangs.

“We found her in the woods, that night.” TC explains.

“Fuck.” Luke looks to me and Peter.

“We planned to put the dealer down. We wanted to know who helped him, but he never gave it up.” Frank speaks up, watching me. “Do you think it’s one of the guys that was there, that night?” He wonders.

“Frankie, I don’t know. I mean, that was, I still haven’t processed that night.” I admit, shaking my head. “But my gut tells me it’s somehow connected. I can’t be sure it’s just a stalker. Or if it’s revenge to the club.” Shrugging.

“Sweetheart,” Tony leans closer to me “we need to discuss all this, go have a drink. Check in with mom.” He nods encouraging me. I nod slowly getting up from Peter’s lap. Glancing back at him, he blinks slowly nodding for me to go.

--------

Quill blows out a breathe. “Do we look past this shit?”

“She didn’t fuck him!” Peter snaps, turning in his chair.

“Easy, boy.” His father puts a hand out to keep him in his seat.

“We heard her. We know.” TC nods.

Buck sighs, lighting up a smoke. He slides the pack to Peter who follows suit.

“She’s not wrong, she never knew more than badges, she never knew who was, who outside of what they wore. We protected her so much, she never saw trouble from the club.” He takes a long pull off his smoke. “Leaving town, she had no idea might have been waiting for her. She has no idea what normal people danger looks like.”

Steve’s brow drops in. “You think we did wrong by protecting her?”

“Did we raise her wrong?” His dad wonders.

“Fuck no.” Peter shakes his head.

“Hell no.” Howie jumps in.

Peter flicks his hand out, shaking his head. “She’s perfect, raised right.” He nods. “She’s trouble but I mean look what she was born into, the brothers she has.” He shrugs. “The guy she picked. She’s polite,”

“Too a point.” Howie smirks.

“She’s got manners, and a nasty right hook. She’s rough edged and bloody knuckled, but fuck look at that girl.” He thrust his hand out again. “She’d slit her own throat before putting any of us at risk. She’s smart, dangerously smart. She’d do time for this club, like it’s never fucked her over before.” Shaking his head, his free hand rumbles his hair some more.

It’s quiet for a moment.

“So clearly Parker is still rock hard for Baby Barnes.” TC grins, the table laughs.

“Oh fuck off you fucks.” He rolls his eyes.

Steve drags his hand through his hair. “If it’s retaliation, why? Why her?”

“Peter.” Howie speaks up.

“What?” Peter looks to his brother.

“No, you. You killed the dealer that night. Protecting her. The patched brother, he wants payback. Who says he’s not after Y/N like you have, always have had her. She bailed and he saw an opening to her.” Howie shrugs.

“He wants Y/N in revenge for what was done to his brother.” TC nods slowly.

“But why our girl?” Tony shakes his head. “She had nothing to do with Karen and the drugs.”

“No offense, but Parker doesn’t even spare another look to another woman. He’s in so deep with Y/N, he has to be blacked out to be with one, single, one other woman. She’s his greatest weakness.” Frank shrugs a massive shoulder.

“Hell even then,” he shakes his head.

“What?” Buck watches him.

Peter sighs, taking a pull off his smoke.

“Why do you think he had to be blacked out to touch Hardy?” Howie looks over at her brothers.

Both exchange a look, brows dipping down.

“Hardy is so desperate for attention, she doesn’t bat an eye at being called by a different name.” He puts his smoke out.

“That’s,” Steve tips his head, unsure.

“Weird?” Sam lifts a brow.

“Awkward.” Matt snorts.

“Fucked up?” Rand glances around.

“Parker and Barnes.” Frank snorts.

“Shit ain’t that the truth.” Tony laughs.

“Shit all our lives.” Clint shakes his head.

“I’ve been protecting her all our lives. I’ve killed for her, wouldn’t think twice about doing it again.” He admits. “It makes sense to me.”

“She still wears your ring, the bond between the two of you is, wild.” TC shakes his head.

“Sometimes I think its deeper than my marriage.” Buck smirks.

He pats his hands on the table, pushing back.

“Speaking of, I need to speak to her about that right.” He gets up, heading for the door.

“Possessive Parker.” TC snorts.

“Fuck could he be more in love with her?” Luke laughs.

“You didn’t see it when we were growing up.” Howie laughs.

“She’s just as bad as him, don’t let her fool you.” Sam shakes his head.

Steve and Buck nod, slow and heavy. Howie blinks like he’s traumatized, TC shakes his head smirking.

----------------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @irepeldirt @joannie95 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @hookslove1592 @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @wonderswrittings @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Peter ‘Fuck Me I’m Weak’ Parker: @its-crystallll @lets-roggerthat

[nullshocked]

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💗💖💕💘🤎🤍🖤 sorry i mean uhhhhhhhhhhhh dealers choice

Send a Heart + a Ship For a Brief Snippet 💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft

He’s waiting outside the bar, chainsmoking through a pack of cigarettes when someone asks: “Are you Jean?”

The name always makes him tense. He only lets two people call him Jean anymore: Promise because she’s known him long enough that she’s allowed to, and Virgil because that’s his partner. The only other people who know that name that are people he doesn’t want to talk to, and frankly? Jack has no clue who the fuck this man is. Some older human, made haggard by too much alcohol and the late hour. No names or memories spring to mind.

“Sorry,” Jack grunts. “Wrong guy.”

“You don’t remember me?” The man asks. “I came by so many times.”

And looking at him, Jack thinks he might sort of recognize him. Or rather, he recognizes the kind of man he is. There were a lot of men like him back then, their faces rendered foggy and incomprehensible by the shit he was using. And that just means he has even less reason to talk to him. He takes a drag off his cigarette and blows smoke in his face.

“Fuck off.”

The man doesn’t like that. Beer makes him as mean as it makes Jack stupid enough to pick a fight. He grabs Jack’s arm and Jack stops listening to anything he has to say. Panic seizes him the way it does when anyone suddenly grabs him, kicking and shouting, trying to twist himself out of his own jacket just to get away.

He nearly tumbles over when something slams into the man and knocks him over, wobbly knees struggling against the momentum of the man hitting the pavement. It takes Jack a few seconds to register Virgil, the taller man placing himself between Jack and the man. The elf doesn’t even have to say anything. The man takes one look at him, scrambles to his feet, and staggers down the street away from them.

Jack works his jaw and leans against the wall. “Asshole.”

“You okay?” Virgil asks quietly.

“Couldn’t take no for an answer, that’s all.” Jack fishes out another cigarette from the dwindling pack, fingers shaking as he goes to light it. He feels sick to his stomach. More nicotine isn’t likely to help that, but if he doesn’t keep his hands busy he’ll just end up tearing at his own skin.

“Can we go home?”

“Yeah.”

His free hand finds Virgil’s arm, fingers tangling in the sleeve of his coat. Jack always feels strange showing any outward affection to him in public, feeling ridiculous and clingy for doing so. But right now he doesn’t want to stray too far from the other man. His nerves ease a little more with Virgil close to his side.

When they get back to the apartment, he finally breaks down and cries—angry, bitter tears, frustration and sorrow melding together until it overwhelms him. He presses his palms into his eyes and starts to sink to the floor, but Virgil catches him in his arms and pulls him in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” He feels pathetic and weak, that somehow all this time can pass and yet it never stops. Something finds him, sometimes a man and sometimes a memory, and it all comes flooding back again.

Virgil doesn’t waste words. He holds Jack in his arms and lets him cry, his fingers massaging the base of his neck. And when Jack runs out of tears to cry, he bends down and kisses the corner of his eye, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose. And then he takes Jack’s face on his hands and kisses his lips, long and slow and gentle.

“You’ve got me?” Jack murmurs, more statement than question.

“I’ve got you,” Virgil responds softly.

[ddrv]

3 Camping Accessories Perfect for Keeping in Your RV

You can’t go camping without camping accessories! From tent camping to RV camping, there are all kinds of accessories and gear made to help you enjoy any camping trip to the fullest. From cooking accessories to navigation gear, you’ve probably browsed the aisles of your favorite outdoor goods store or visited the RV dealer Idaho families love to find exactly what you need. But do you really have everything you need? If you’re an RV camper, you may have stocked up on gear at the dealer, but there are a few supplies you might have overlooked. Some accessories are perfect for keeping in your RV and work great for car and tent camping, too. Here’s how these three accessories can add convenience to your next outdoor adventure.

Backup Portable Power Bank with A/C

It’s always good to have backup systems. You never know when you might need them. One backup system that adds a ton of convenience and practicality to any camping trip is a portable power bank with A/C. Sometimes, you might not want to rely on RV power to charge your electronics and other gear. Or you may have a situation where you need power away from the RV. Or you have kids, and they brought all their gadgets. In any case, having a portable power bank with AC can be incredibly useful, and it’s always good to have around in the event other power sources fail—or you need extra sources. It’s one of those “just in case” accessories you’ll be glad you had.

More Chairs Than You Think You’ll Need

Maybe it’s two more chairs. Maybe it’s four. It’s nice to be able to pull out a few more chairs when you’re camping. You might end up having more people around the campfire than expected—or you might have visitors. With more chairs, everyone has a place to sit and hang out. If you’re short on space, store a few extra ultra-portable chairs or camp stools in your RV. Ultra-portable camp chairs have gotten more popular in the last year because of how convenient and light they are—and they can be durable, too! Plus, they’re light enough to throw in a pack if you plan on straying from camp to sit by the lake or stream.

Give Yourself Some Shade with a Portable Awning or Canopy

Shade is a big deal. If you’re browsing new or used motorhomes for sale, built-in awnings might catch your eye. You’re current RV might even have an awning already. It’s not uncommon for RVs to come with an awning or have the option for one. However, a single awning may not be enough—especially when the sun is low or if you want to increase your shaded space. This is where a portable awning or canopy can come in handy. It gives you more control over the shade you have around your campsite. Plus, they’re great for more than just shade. They can be handy when it rains and you want to keep your stuff dry without having to move your entire RV to accommodate.

About DDRV

The open road is calling your name. DDRV is ready to help you answer the call with their huge selection of RVs, motorhomes, boats, ATVs, and more. Whether you’re road-tripping, camping, hunting, fishing, or any other adventure, DDRV has the vehicle you need. Browse their inventory of new and used motorhomes for sale. From Class A motorhomes to compact travel trailers, you can find it at DDRV. Plus, as the boat dealers Idaho loves, you can explore all kinds of fishing boats, pontoons, and personal watercrafts, too. Have an RV that needs service? Bring it into DDRV! They have an experienced and knowledgeable service team—and they’re home to the most Master Certified technicians in Idaho! All of this combines for an adventure experience you can’t beat.

Find the perfect RV for every adventure at https://ddrv.com/

Original Source: https://bit.ly/3seLDPk

[dollslayer]

Champagne Problems

Bartender!Bucky x Reader

Summary: When your ex-boyfriend makes a surprise appearance at your sister's wedding you find help from an unexpected source.

W/C: 4,642

Warnings: NO MINORS, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hey! I know it's been a minute (sorry), I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie's writing challenge using the bartender au! If you like this please reblog and comment and check out my other fics!! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You sighed internally before slapping on a smile for yet another group picture. Your bridesmaid dress was itchy and you already regretted spending the entire night in it, as the reception was just starting. But it was your sister’s day and you decided that if what she really wanted was for you to wear this itchy monstrosity to honor her wedding then damn it, you’d do it. So you leaned in close with the rest of the wedding party and posed some more.

When the photographer had finished with his photos you were ushered to the family table and wedged between your mother and your aunt. You mentally cursed your sister for seating you with them because they were going to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone while simultaneously lamenting that you’d dumped your boyfriend of 4 years just a month earlier. Your mother wanted grandchildren so badly, you didn’t know why she couldn’t just settle to get them from your sister.

“Sweetheart, you and Steve were so good together though! Remember when he surprised you at Christmas with that puppy? I don’t know how you let a man like that go…” Your mom chided.

You grabbed the attention of a passing server and grabbed the champagne off their tray. If you were going to have this conversation again you needed liquid courage to do so. You downed it in three sips and your mom scoffed at you.

“Mom, we've been over this. I didn’t ask him to do that, we agreed we weren’t ready for a dog. Ugh, oh my god, anyways, we just didn’t work together. Sometimes things don’t work out, Mom. You’ll still get grandkids, just not from me.” You patted her on the shoulder but she just pursed her lips and looked past you to your aunt.

You wanted nothing more than to get wasted but you couldn’t do that to your sister. You wouldn’t get blackout drunk, but you were definitely getting drunk tonight. The reception was being held in a hotel and the wedding party had a block of rooms reserved so it’s not like you had to drive. You just had one thing to do before you did that.

The moment you’d been dreading had finally arrived, the toast. You held your freshly topped-off glass of champagne and brought your fork to it to get everyone’s attention. Someone handed you the mic and you hesitated before taking it and nervously cleared your throat.

By what you assumed could only be the grace of God you managed to deliver the perfect toast about finding the right person and soulmates and anything else you might find in a hallmark card with only minor stumbles. Everyone clapped and your brother-in-law wiped a stray tear and everyone finally dug into dinner. You just hoped that would mean your mother would be quiet about Steve for the next 20 minutes and then you could escape to the open bar.

____

You almost made it through dinner scott-free and sat back to watch your sister’s first dance. Just when you thought you were in the clear it was your aunt that threw a wrench in your plans. She was three glasses of wine deep and had that glassy look in her eye when she grabbed your elbow and pulled you closer. She spoke to you in a low voice while trying not to fumble her words.

“Listen kiddo, I know your mom is hard on you about Stevie but she just wants what’s best for you. What you two had… it was so good even I liked him! I don’t like anybody y’know that. So.. so why don’t you jus’ give ‘im another chance, make your mom happy? Couldn’t be that bad, could it? Maybe he’ll even… surprise you”

You mentally blocked out her words halfway through her speech, hoping neither of you would remember it by the end of the night. Right now you just had to get her to stop so you could get away from the table. You didn’t think you could take one more second of being shamed for leaving Steve.

You smiled sweetly and nodded in understanding towards her words.

“I know, Aunt Linda. I know. Sometimes things happen, I love mom but I’ll find someone else.”

With that you patted her on the shoulder and took off in search of the bar.

There were two bars and you wanted to go to the less crowded one. Looking around you had spotted it just past the dancefloor and made a beeline. Weaving through the now open dance floor and escaping the invitations to join your family you finally made it and leaned heavily against the countertop with a sigh.

“Rough night?” Your eyes follow the gruff yet amused voice and find that it belongs to a very handsome man with a defined jaw, clear blue eyes, and long hair that was tied back.

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“You don’t know that half of it. Nothing like a wedding to remind you how single you are” You joked.

“Ah. Yeah, that’ll do it. That’s rough. You look like you need a drink, what can I get you?”

“Dealer’s choice. Just no vodka.” You requested.

He smirked and nodded, perusing the lines of bottles that were in front of him. He bit his lip as he concentrated on what to make and you tried not to stare. You watched him get to work on your drink and couldn’t help but notice the way you could see his muscles move underneath his dress shirt.

He turned back around and proudly presented you with something fizzy in a highball glass.

“My own concoction, I even used the non-watered down liquor. Just for you” He says with a wink.

You try your best to hide your shy smile and accept the drink.

“Thank you, how sweet of you.” You tell him.

“It’s nothin’. So how’s a gal like you single? If you don’t mind my asking. Seems pretty impossible to me.”

You're caught somewhere between flattery and embarrassment and just hope it doesn't show on your face. You take a long sip of your drink and gear up to answer him.

“Well, I just got out of a 4 year relationship, actually. He’s really sweet but he always had a tendency to steamroll my needs and just do whatever he was going to do. Eventually that shit adds up.” You sigh.

“Like for example - last year we had talked about getting a dog and I said I wasn’t ready, we’re just both way too busy and then on Christmas day he shows up with this puppy! And then I’m the villain for telling him no! The puppy ended up going to a good home but he did stuff like that all the time. It just became too much. Anyways now my mom won’t get off my ass about leaving him.” You shook your head.

“A puppy? Wow, that’s… intense. That’s a lot, I’m sorry. You finish that drink and I’ll pour us both a shot” He laughed.

You nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the cocktail. He held up two shot glasses and extended one to you.

“A toast, to… wait. I don’t even know your name!”

His shoulders shook as he laughed and he answered you.

“I’m James but you can call me Bucky” You made a face at that.

“What kinda name is Bucky?” You asked before giving him your own name.

“Whatever, I’ve got two shots of tequila, you want one or not?” How could you say no?

“A toast,” You continued, “To you and your weird name, Bucky.”

He laughed and you clinked your glasses together, then against the counter before downing them in one go. You tried your best not to make a face and looked up at Bucky to find him extending you the lime chaser, which you took gratefully.

“Hoo… I could use like, 3 more of those to get through tonight. So, how’d you get into bartending?”

“I needed somethin’ to put me through school and I figured this beats stripping. Though, with some of the customers we get sometimes I’m not so sure”

You laughed at that and Bucky went on to tell you anecdotes of all the crazy people he’s had to serve, disastrous weddings, and the time he got a lapdance from the bride herself. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed but you were enjoying talking to him, forgetting your mission to be drunk.

The two of you kept swapping stories and were getting to know each other a bit more. He let you vent about Steve and just listened, it was refreshing to talk to someone and not be told what it is that you should be wanting. When you pictured the night you didn’t picture yourself confiding in the bartender tonight but if you were honest you were enjoying yourself. It beat awkwardly dancing with your family and enduring more disappointed remarks from your family.

You had hoped you could hide out at the bar and spend the entire night unscathed when the double doors to the ballroom opened. Your heartbeat in your ears as time slowed down around you as a blond head of hair made its way through the archway. Your laughter died in your throat when Baby blue eyes found you across the room and you froze like a deer in headlights. No. Nononononono this isn’t happening.

Time has somehow come to a halt while simultaneously hurtling forward since you can’t get yourself unstuck from this moment yet fail to realize that Steve is now standing right in front of you. His hair is swept back perfectly and he flashes you that million dollar smile of his that shows off his dimples perfectly. You scold yourself for checking him out but damn did he always clean up nice.

“Hey, sweetheart” he says shyly, as if he’s not crashing your sister’s wedding to get with you.

“What…? What are you doing… here?” You ask quietly, trying to avoid a scene.

Before he can answer you your mom comes up behind Steve and squeezes his shoulders tight, all with a big, bright smile on her face. Of course. How did I not see this coming?

“You made it!” She exclaimed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Of course, sorry to have missed the ceremony but there’s still plenty to celebrate, right?” He asked with his signature boyish smirk.

Shock was still in full effect on your features as you stood stock still. But that shock was soon giving way to anger as you slowly pieced together everything that was happening. Your mom had brought back Steve to try and get you back together and Steve was steamrolling you again.

“I… I, can’t. I can’t-” You started

“Sweetheart, how many of those have you had? You need some water.” Steve motions to the drink in your hand and you feel the anger running through your veins about to take over. You have to move this out of the room. Now.

“Why don’t we move this to the hall?” You suggested quietly.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you started moving towards the exit but you did spare one last panicked glance towards Bucky. He looked confused and his brows were quirked in a way that made him look upset, almost. You sent him a pleading look before turning back around and preparing yourself to deal with this shitshow that had slowly unfolded before you.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold. You got this. Your hand begins to push the door open when Steve’s much larger one covers yours and gets the job done. An action that you once would’ve thought was sweet, one that you would’ve made you swoon, even, is currently pissing you off.

You two made your way to the hallway and you looked around before you started in on him.

“Okay, what the hell, Rogers? Crashing my sister’s wedding? Really?! I don’t give a shit if my mom put you up to this I-”

“Sweetheart, please. She thought you might be having second thoughts and maybe us seeing each other would… patch things up. We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart” Steve attempted to console you, reaching out to try and rub your arm but you pulled back.

“No! I am so sick of you running me over! You never listened to me or what I had to say and this is exactly why I broke up with you, Steve! You’re being so fucki-”

“Hey, babe, everything okay out here?” Bucky’s voice surprised you but not as much as his lips pressing a kiss into your hair and his arms wrapping around your waist.

You had to crane your neck to look back and up at him. It took all of two seconds for you to piece together what you’d hoped was the truth. Bucky raised his eyebrows at you as if to say “come on” and in all your desperation you went with it. You supposed that his formal uniform made him pass for a regular guest.

“I, ah, yeah, yes. Steve here was just leaving, right?” You asked him.

Steve raised his eyebrows in a stunned expression, mouth slightly open in disbelief. His hand reached out towards your shoulder but Bucky pulled you back gently.

“Doll, are you serious? Who even is this guy? Does your mom know about this?”

“No, she doesn’t. It’s… new…” You told him.

“Right,” Bucky cuts in, “It’s new so we weren’t telling anyone just yet but she figured I should at least be here for the reception”

“Seriously?” Steve scoffs, “Man bun? What does he have that I don’t? C’mon, you know what you and I have is real.”

“What you and I have is over, Steve. You never listened to me, always pushed me further than I was ready for. We’re done, it’s over. I’m sorry for whatever Mom told you”

Steve took a harsh breath inwards and you watched him try to decide whether he should walk away or blow up. Based off of the veins popping in his forehead, he was opting to blow up.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re up to but-”

“She said it’s over, punk. Move along” Bucky cut in. He took a protective step in front of you and pushed his shoulders back, squaring up to Steve. Steve seethed quietly and you two exchanged very tense glances.

“I’m telling your mother about this. I doubt she’ll be happy to hear you brought some random person to your sister’s wedding.” Steve spat.

He walked past the two of you and bumped shoulders harshly with Bucky. Bucky’s jaw tensed and his grip on your waist tightened but he didn’t retaliate. Instead he took a step back to get a proper look at you.

“You okay?”

“Why did you do that? You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but you looked like you could really use the help.”

“Well… thank you. I appreciate it, more than you know. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” You laughed to yourself a little and added, “We’re not even together 5 minutes and you already have all my emotional baggage”

Bucky laughed at that and shook his head.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ve got some crazy exes too. So what now? You going back in?”

You became a little flustered at that but moved past it with a sheepish grin.

“No,” You shook your head, “I think it’s best for everyone if I just go up to my room and avoid a whole scene.”

“Well at least let me walk you up. I wouldn’t put it past that creep to follow you.”

“What about the bar?”

“We’re overstaffed and the party’s winding down anyways. They’ll get on without me”

“Alright then” You accepted and started off towards the elevators.

You two were standing in the elevator waiting for the doors to close when you spotted the doors to the ballroom open. Your mother was looking around, her face a picture of anger. Lucky for you the doors closed before she could look in your direction and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You know as far as fake boyfriends go I’d say you’re pretty good”

“Just good? C’mon I had that guy on the ropes.”

“Yeah alright,” You relented with a grin.

You exited the elevator car and made your way down the hallway until finally you reached your door. You fished your keycard out of your wallet and turned to Bucky.

“Hey… do you wanna… maybe come in? Hang out? I know you’ve got work but if you’re overstaffed maybe…” You trailed off. There was a beat of silence and you felt regret instantly, thinking you’ve asked too much of him. “Y’know what nevermind, you don’t have to, I’m sorry I-”

“I’d love to hang out with you, if you’re okay with that. Plus it’s probably better I wait to get back until the wedding’s over. Can’t really show my face as your boyfriend and then get back behind the bar, can I?” He said with a soft smile.

“Suppose you’re right,” You swiped the card and cracked open the door.

You stepped inside and felt like you could finally breathe again. You kicked off your heels and went to turn on the lights. You reached back to get the zipper of your dress but couldn’t quite get there.

“Will you get my zipper?” You asked Bucky. He nodded and came closer to you.

You could feel his warmth radiating from him when he was this close. Your nostrils filled with the heady scent of his aftershave. He smells so good. He unzipped you halfway and left the rest for you.

You thanked him and grabbed your change of clothes and headed to the bathroom. Relieved to finally be free of the itchy monstrosity of a bridesmaids dress you sighed and put on a tank top and pair of shorts. You realized the tank top showed a little more of your cleavage than intended but you shrugged it off and exited the bathroom.

Bucky’s eyes landed on you and he took a sharp breath in but tried to play it cool. It half worked, you caught him staring a little bit and giggled to yourself. When you looked at him again he was undoing his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt. Wonder what he’d look like if he unbuttoned just a few more… You stopped yourself in that line of thinking and joined him on the couch.

“I think your phone’s gonna zap itself into an early grave with the way it’s been going off” Bucky said as he pointed to your phone on the table.

You picked it up to find you had several missed calls from your mother, one from Steve, and one very long text message from him that was already inducing a headache. You opened it, forgetting you had read receipts on. Oops. You weren’t going to read this now in front of Bucky, so you shut it off and put it aside.

“So how are you feelin’?” He asked.

“Better now that I’m out that damned dress. As for my family, they'll get over themselves. I don’t know why who I’m dating is such a big deal to them anyways.”

“You do look more comfy now that you’ve changed. If you don’t mind me sayin’ you’re just as gorgeous now as you were all dolled up”

You felt heat flood your cheeks instantly and eked out a thank you. You and Bucky talked for an hour more or so and in that time you’d found yourself nodding off with your head on his chest. On instinct he brought your whole body closer to him and put his arm around you. If you were less sleepy you’d be embarrassed but right now you didn’t care.

Bucky had moved slightly and inadvertently jolted you awake. You shot up and realized that you’d cuddled your way into Bucky’s side and now the embarrassment was catching up with you. You instantly scooted back to give him some space.

“Sorry, I uh, didn’t mean to cuddle you” You said while avoiding his gaze.

You felt a hand on your thigh and finally looked up to find him smirking at you.

“I didn’t mind it. It’s getting late though, I should get back.”

You were slightly disappointed but nodded your head. You rose and followed him to the door. He went for the handle but turned around when you grabbed his hand. He stepped away from the door and was in your personal space. You looked up at him with a shaky breath.

“Thank you, again, for what you did. It was really sweet of you.” He smiled down at you and brought one hand to your face. Oh God, I didn’t prepare for this. Your heart was beating just a little harder as you looked into his clear blue eyes.

“For you? Anytime. I had a really fun time with you tonight.”

“Me too.”

With that his other hand came up to cup your face and he kissed you sweetly. It wasn’t until you kissed him back that he pulled away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I don’t wanna make you uncomf-”

You grabbed him by the shirt collar and brought him in for another kiss. This time more demanding but just as sweet. He let out a small moan and you swear you could’ve melted. His tongue explored your mouth while his hands moved their way down your body and brought you even closer to him. You could feel that he was hard and it only made you want him more.

Without breaking the kiss you started to move backwards towards the bed until finally you were just at the edge of it. You broke apart for air and searched his eyes only to find his pupils blown wide in lust. You cupped him through his pants and he groaned. He was big. Maybe even bigger than Steve.

“We don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to do,” He breathed out. You shook your head and kissed him again.

“I want you, I’m sure.” You panted out.

“I don’t have a condom”

“Doesn’ matter, I’m on the pill” You told him. With that his hands were up your tank top and you’d helped him to remove it. He worked on his shirt next and while he fumbled with the buttons you took off the rest of your clothing.

Bucky was every bit as devastating as you’d thought he’d be and you let out a genuine sigh. His toned muscles rippled throughout his arms and torso and you watched him remove his boxers and you’re not entirely sure your jaw hadn’t dropped. He noticed you gawking and chuckled as he leaned down to join you on the bed.

“See somethin’ you like?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer though, he pushed you backwards onto the bed and kissed you again, this time trailing his kisses all the way down your body. He stopped and took his time to admire each of your breasts, licking and biting your nipples. You’d gasped in surprise and pleasure. He moved his way down finally to your pussy and looked up at you.

“Can I? You could only nod and let out a shaky breath as you sat up on your elbows and watched him get to work. He kissed and caressed your thighs until finally his fingers were prodding at your entrance. He groaned at how wet you were and pushed two fingers in. You let out an obscene moan and your hands went into his locks. His tongue lapped at your clit before he sucked on it, all the while pumping his fingers in and out of you in search of your G-spot.

You’d pulled his hair out of his bun and guided his tongue where he needed to be. Finally getting the right angle you were whimpering in pleasure, back arched almost to a point of pain. He’d finally found the spot he’d been looking for and your eyes shut closed in pleasure.

“Please,” you begged, “Please don’t stop I’m so close”

You pushed his head harder against you and his fingers sped up. It was only a matter of moments until your toes were curling in pleasure and you writhed on the bed in the aftershock of your orgasm. Bucky continued to lap away at you until you pushed him off. He came back up to eye level with you and had a wolfish grin.

“Who knew you’d make such noises? God it was so hot”

You pulled him in for another kiss and reached down to grab his cock. You pumped it a few times before you moved down to return the favor when he stopped you. You looked up at him with brows pinched in concern.

“Don’ worry about me, I just wanna feel you”

He moved you beneath him and you spread your legs apart for him. You were still sensitive in your post-high when his tip brushed your clit but you didn’t mind the bolt of pleasure. He aligned himself with your entrance and looked you in the eye as he pushed all the way inside of you slowly. You let out an involuntary moan, trying to accommodate his full length.

“You good?” He asked.

“I’m good, you’re just...big” He smirked at that.

“Can I move or do you need a second?”

“No, you can move, please move.”

One hand on your hip and the other on your breast he started thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You swore you could feel every bump and ridge of him with every inch he put into you. His pace picked up and he kissed the column of your neck, finding the one spot that drove you crazy. Your small mewls turned to full moans and he began fucking you harder.

“‘M not gonna last much longer” He told you. You didn’t say anything in response, just brought him in for another kiss and grabbed a handful of his ass to push him further inside you. He chuckled at that and took the hint.

He was going the hardest he had so far and you were holding on for dear life and loving every minute of it. His panting breaths were heavy in your ears and you reached down to toy with your clit so you’d cum together. His thrusts were getting a little sloppier and your hand moved faster, quickly approaching both your peaks. He let out an almost pornographic moan as he came, He fucked you through his orgasm and not a moment later you came for a second time. Your bodies melded together as you rode out the last waves of each other’s orgasms.

Finally Bucky stopped and held himself with one hand, trying to catch his breath. You were slightly dazed, trying to compute how your night had ended up like this. Bucky rolled over onto the bed and you felt the mess between your thighs. You looked over to him with a hazy smile.

“So, I know we’re doin’ things a little backwards here but, maybe I could take you out some time? If you want?”

Your smile grew even wider and your heart felt so light in this moment.

“I’d like that”

You didn’t know what tomorrow would hold or how to even begin cleaning up the mess with your family. You’d deal with it all in the morning, for now you’d just bask in the afterglow with your fake boyfriend and be grateful for chance meetings.

[ms-starflower]

Young Survivors — Maribat

It’s almost four am here, I just finished writing this and am just tired enough to actually go through and post it. And this title is the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Anyway. I haven't posted something I wrote in years, but all the Maribat I’ve read recently made me want to write something for it.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to write a 2 part, but if I do it’s definitely going to be Timari and contain a couple of typical Maribat tropes. And a pinch of salt.

Also, disclaimer: I haven't watched Miraculous in years and most of my DC knowlege come from fanfic or tumblr so... sorry not sorry.

Now with a part 2!

Next >

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

Mei Leyton’s oldest memories were of her mother, dolled up in pretty dresses and elegant makeup. In her daughter‘s eyes, Margaret Leyton was the most beautiful woman on earth.

For as long as she could remember, Mei would sit on the bed and watch as her mom would get ready to head to work. She had always loved those moments with her mom.

(How do I look, my little flower,” she said, twirling around Mei with a grin, making her laugh. It was Margaret’s favorite dress, a vintage halter blue dress with white accents and a white bow around the waist.

“Like a princess, mommy! The prettiest princess ever!”

“Oh no, no no no. You are the prettiest princess ever, my little flower.”)

She was four when her mother let her help for the first time, letting her pass along brushes and products. It’s then that she understood what were the purple marks on her mother that she covered with her makeup.

(“Life is not fair to us, my little flower,” she had said when Mei asked about it for the first time. “Being an orphan and pretty little girl in Gotham isn’t safe, and it doesn’t give much choice when it comes to survival.”

Mei didn’t understand then, but it didn’t matter anyway, life would make her understand soon enough.)

When Mei was seven, the GCPD found her mother’s body.

When she didn’t see her that morning, Mei hadn’t been worried; it wasn’t the first time. Mom would be home by noon, she always was. Until that day.

(The investigation wouldn’t get very far, it was just another prostitute of Camellia street, nobody cared about them. They were just there until they weren’t anymore.

Another girl would take her place in a couple of days. It was how those kinds of things worked in Gotham.)

That day was kind of blurry in her memory. She remembers being pulled out of class in the morning, and that the cop that told her about her mother’s death was very rude.

(“Your mom is dead, kid. A lad found her body in a dumpster this morning,” the guy had said as soon as she had sat down in the headmistress’ office. “Do you know who she worked for? Or on what side of the Camellia she stayed?” He had asked, halfheartedly.

Mei had shaken her head, even though she did; you don’t talk to cops in Gotham, mom always says said that it was the easiest way to get yourself killed, for people like them.

“Alright,” he had said, not surprised. “A social worker is going to pick you up in a bit to take you to your new home, kid.”

With that he had walked out of the office, not looking back. As if where she would end up was going to be home.)

She remembers that the social worker from CPS was a brunette with tan skin, and looked really overworked, but had a kind smile.

By the end of the day, she was taken to Elliot's Hall for Children, an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage with more kids than they could realistically care for.

(They don’t care for the children, they just put them there for a while and act as they do. Most children leave after a couple of days, and if they don’t, they get taken anyway.

Some come back with a police escort, some manage to survive in the streets, and nobody talks about the ones that are never seen again.

You don’t work there because you love children, and if you do, you don’t last for very long.)

Mei wasn’t stupid, her mother told her stories about those kinds of places. She came from those kinds of places, and Mei saw how the man in charge here had looked at her when the social worker dropped her off.

She wasn’t going to just stand here and wait for him to sell her back in Camellia street. Or worse, to the Candy Dealers.

Taking with her what she absolutely couldn’t leave behind, Mei made a choice her mother hadn’t been able to and took her chance with the streets.

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

Mei was a Camellia kid and, as such, took to the streets easier than most newcomers. She had picked up a few tricks from her aunties and her mom, and it helped her to survive out here.

The only (glaring) differences were the absence of her mother, the lack of a permanent roof above her head, and the fact that she had to provide food and money herself now.

(One of her favorite places to pick up wallets was Gotham Academy, where Gotham’s rich send their children. The kids always had money on them, and it’s not like they would miss it.

Though she couldn’t go too many times in a row, not without risking being spotted and remembered.)

She had been on the streets for two months when she met Jason Todd; the boy who would become her family.

She heard him before she saw him, to be honest. It was an awful crashing noise coming from around the corner, and it made her look.

He was running like the devil was after him, and judging by how the cops running behind him were clutching their batons, she wasn’t that far from the truth.

The noises were because of a couple of trash cans the boy had spilled in their way to slow them down.

And he was coming her way.

Against her better judgment, she grabbed his arm when he passed in front of her, and pulled him behind her into her hideout. Quickly getting the plank of wood back in place, she put her hand on his mouth before he could say anything. With the dumpster in the alley, the entry was almost invisible from outside.

They stayed there as they heard the men pass in front of their hiding place, listening as they argued about where the boy could have disappeared before their voices faded completely.

They waited another couple of minutes before he removed the hand she still had on his mouth and crawled out of there.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a scowl. “I woulda’ve been just fine without help but… yeah, anyway.” Then he had started to walk in the direction he came from.

“Hey! Wait!” She said before she could think about it. “Are ya just gonna, like, go? Just like that?”

“Huh, yeah? What do ya want me to do?” He asked, looking back at her from above his shoulder without stopping his walk. “Stay to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather?”

“Well.. no. But I just… I just wanna talk a bit, ya know?” She couldn’t really explain why she didn’t want him to leave yet, it’s not like he was the first street kid she had helped out. He just felt different, and somehow she knew he could become important to her.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before turning his head back to look forward. “The streets are not some daycare for princesses who want to make friends, kid.”

“Kid— hey, dumbass, you’re, like, ten years old! You’re a kid too! And I’m not a princess, I can survive alone just fine!” Before she knew it, she was walking behind him, the weird feeling forgotten for the offence his comment created. He looked back at her with a frown, before choosing to ignore her. Not letting that deter her, she rambled at him about all the ways why she wasn’t a kid any more than him.

“I thought you could survive alone?” He said, talking over her, when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him be.

“I can.”

“So why are ya following me? Tryin’ to drive me crazy?”

“Well, no. It’s just... that I can do it doesn't mean I want to.”

“Look, kid,” he said, ignoring her protest and talking over her, again. “You should just go back to whatever orphanage you came from, there is probably some nice little family who's gonna pick you up. Then you could make all the friends you want.”

“Like people actually adopt kids in this city. This is Gotham, you dummy, not ‘Annie’. Some rich white guy isn’t going to come and pick up children from the streets to make them live the Grand life.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he growled out without pausing in his steps. “Still, you’re pretty enough, I’m sure some nice people would adopt you in a second if you let them.”

“Yeah, sure. Mom thought the same when she was a kid, and guess what? She started working on Camellia street when she was fourteen, but nobody asked her if she wanted to. Because she was pretty enough,” the little seven years old spat with venom, her eyes narrowed. The boy stopped walking, turning toward her with eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “Her best friend wasn’t, but mom said that she had the prettiest green eyes ever. When they found her body, she didn’t have eyes anymore, because some rich person paid to have pretty green eyes.”

“I— I didn’t—” he stuttered, eyes wide. With his scowl gone he looked so much younger, and Mei’s anger subdued. He wasn’t that much older than her, just a couple of years, maybe three or four, after all.

“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s Gotham. I just thought we both would have more chances to survive if we helped each other out. And, ya know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but when they resumed walking he slowed down enough to let her walk beside him without almost-running.

“Great! So, Annie, where are we going now?” She said with a beaming smile, bursting into laughter at his indignation and protest against the nickname.

(“Can’t you stop calling me Annie already?! I told you my name’s Jason!”

“Nope, Annie.”

“Well, then, that makes you Sandy, doesn't it? Ya do follow me around like a stray puppy.”

“I’m not a dog— wait, hold on a minute! I knew you saw the movie! You liar!”)

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

She was ten when her life was put upside down once again, in the worst of ways.

It took practically no time before Jason “Annie” Todd became her brother in all but blood, it took longer for Jason to admit it, and they spend almost three years surviving together, barring the occasional trip back to the Children's Houses.

Though, they always found each other a couple of days after they escaped from those places.

Sometimes, Jason would plan something that he needed to do alone. Because of course, he did.

(“It’s the best job, my plan is perfect. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be great Sandy!”

“Yeah, and why can’t I come?”

“It’s too dangerous! Plus, you need to stay here and keep our things safe!”

“Yeah, if you say so, Annie.”)

That day was one of those days.

He was gone for less than an hour when they found her.

The Candy Dealers.

Mei paled when she saw them, wearing their nice suits and overly sweet smile. They told her they were social workers, specializing in homeless children, and offered her a lollipop. Social workers in Gotham don’t give candy to the kids, even the nice ones, and she knew from her time in Camellia street that the lollipop was drugged.

(“Never, ever, take candy from a Candy Dealer, Mei. Do you understand me? Never,” her mother told her gravely. “They put bad stuff in them, and if you put it in your mouth, they will take you away from me. I couldn’t live without you in my life, my little flower.”)

She tried to run, even before the first one got his hand totally outstretched toward her. But her panic made her stumble, and she was no match for them.

She tried to kick, and scream, and bite, but soon she felt a pinch in her neck, and everything was black.

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

The next period of her life was one she tried very hard to forget. For months she was moved, her and dozens of other people, from containers to containers, warehouse to warehouse. Twice they were put in a boat, the containers staying closed for so long, the next time she saw the moonlight, it burned her eyes.

She quickly learned that it was pointless to try to escape (and that Jason wouldn’t come and save her).

Then, one night, the place they were at was illuminated with blue and red lights and the police sirens were so loud, they drowned everything else.

She didn’t let herself hope, though. (She did, she hoped so hard her chest hurt.)

They (probably) weren’t in Gotham anymore, but her childhood didn’t instill her much trust in the police.

They did get them out. And she learned that they were in Paris now. In France. (That was a long way from Gotham.)

There were twenty-seven other people with her in the container. Four of which were kids, and only one other was also an orphan. They weren’t placed together, though. Because the kid had family back where he came from. Unlike her. (She had Jason. He was her family, but they didn’t listen.)

The French social workers took a while to know what to do with her exactly, but they didn’t want to send her back to Gotham (why not? She wanted to go back and find Jason!). So, in the meantime, they placed her in a foster family—one without any other kid, as per her therapist's advice. (The therapist didn’t know anything. She said Gotham wasn’t good for her, but Jason was in Gotham.)

Funnily enough, it ended up being a more permanent solution than previously considered, because the foster parents, Tom and Sabine, quickly fell in love with the little girl.

Not before long, Mei Leyton became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. (They changed her name to give her a ‘new beginning’ because her therapist thought it would be good for her. She didn’t want to have a ‘new beginning', she wanted to go back, to find Jason, to be the Sandy to his Annie. She was Mei, the Camellia’s kid, Sandy, the street’s kid and it was enough for her. She didn’t want to be Marinette, the bakers’ kid.)

So, when Mei was first put into the care of the Dupain-Cheng household, she regularly tried to run away. It was unsurprisingly harder than in Gotham, though. Tom and Sabine were way more attentive than Elliot Hall’s staff ever was, and more than a third of her tentatives were folded even before she was past the front door.

It took her three months (and forty-three unsuccessful tentatives) before she finally accepted that there would be no way for her to go back to Gotham. (Not that she had known how she would manage to do that before, her plan never got that far.) It took another six months before Tom and Sabine trusted her enough to let her wander the neighborhood alone.

The first thing she did the day her ‘new parents’ let her go to the library alone was to get to a public computer, and look Jason up. She didn’t really think she would find anything when she typed Jason Todd and Gotham in Google that day (maybe an obituary). She definitely didn't think she would find her best friend (brother) on the covers of so many tabloids declaring that he was Bruce Wayne’s ward.

She didn’t know how she should feel about the fact that he proved her wrong and became some real-life Annie. She wanted to feel angry, or hurt. Even more so when she realised that Wayne adopted him not even a full week after her (kidnapping) departure from Gotham, but…

But seeing Jason in the pictures… He looked so angry. Angrier than she ever saw him. And hurt. There was hurt hidden in his expression. It was well hidden but she could see it. (She did that, she was the one that hurted him. He probably thought she left him. That she wasn’t any better than his deadbeat of a father and abandoned him. What if he hates her now, because she was gone for so long?)

She needed to go back to Gotham, find him, and explain everything. She needed to tell him she didn’t want to leave him behind, that he was her family, and that it would never change. But Tom and Sabine didn’t want to take her back there, not before she was older, because she wasn’t ready yet, they said.

She didn’t care, though. No matter how long it would take her, she was going to go back. So, she slowly started to act like the perfect little girl. She didn’t really change, she just stopped bringing up Gotham so much, started to help more often in the house and at the bakery, and started to call Tom and Sabine Papa and Maman. (It wasn’t real, at first. But then, they just crawled into her heart against her will and became family. They didn’t replace her Mom or Jason, though. Nobody ever will.)

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

She started to heal. Slowly, without even realising. She opened up to a couple of children at her school, made friends with Nino, and sort of Frenemies (more enemy than friend, though) with Chloé Bourgeois. She picked up hobbies like sewing and designing, baking with Tom, or learning various martial arts with Sabine.

But she didn’t forget, going back to Gotham was still her ultimate goal. Until the news reached her, when she was twelve.

Jason Todd was dead.

Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, her Annie. Dead. Jason was dead.

She felt like a part of her died with him, reading the words but not really processing. She let herself drown in her grief, closing up to everyone around her. Surprisingly, Chloé was the one that made her react. Literally slapping her to make her come back from the dead. (Not entirely, though. Mei, the Gothamite part of her, stayed dead with Jason. Only Marinette, the nice little parisian, came back.)

“I don’t really know what’s up with you, Dupain-Cheng,” she had said while Marinette cradled her sore cheek, her faux-contempt badly hiding her worry. “But you need to put yourself together. Tormenting you is no fun if you don’t react to it, and people are too worried for you to be afraid of me. Don’t make me call daddy on you.”

“I…” She had started, only to stop herself. She had looked back at Nino and Kim, both of whom were looking at her with poorly concealed worry. “Yeah, sorry Chloé.”

She pulled herself out of the worst of it after that, at the obvious relief of the people around her. None of which even knew why she was in this state. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and sometimes felt like someone gouged out her heart with their bare hands, but she also started to let herself think of the good times. Started to let herself feel the good things happening around her, in the present.

Then, she saved the life of an old man, found magic earrings and a bug-mouse-kwami in her room that told her that she needed to become a hero and save Paris.

She thought of her big brother, of how he would always protect her when someone tried to rob them. Hide her, before even thinking of himself, when the cops would chase them down, trying to bring them back to Elliot's Hall. Give her all the food when they couldn’t get enough for the both of them. How he was a hero. Her Hero. And, really, there was only one thing she could say to that.

“Tikki, spots on!”

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

So. That's it. That was fun. I'm going to sleep now, goodnight.

Btw, Jason's super plan that day was totaly to steal the Batmobile's tires.

[soggyskinflaps]

RE8 Modern AU

So, this is just my little take on a happy normal life for this cast:

 After the corrupt company that Mia worked for shut down thanks to Chris and his team, she and Ethan have been put into protective custody, jumping from one place to another. They didn’t mind not living that uncomfortably, as long as they had eachother. All that changed when they had Rosemary. They needed a stable normal life to raise their daughter so Chris sent them to a village hidden in the mountains of Romania, where they supposedly would be safe. This is where their life really changes.

-Ethan gets his old job as a system engineer back, only this time in the factory just outside of town.

-For now Mia’s been home taking care of rose but she’s thinking of getting a job as the friendly shopkeeper’s assistant!

 Most of the villagers are fine, most joke around with the family due to being outsiders. Both he and Mia have become friends of the Lupu family and Luiza. But there are some...unique characters in this village. The lords are the richest people in town, and all work under the wing of Mother Miranda, the mayor.

-Mother Miranda is the mayor of this town. Not much is known from her past aside from once being a scientist and the fact she left her old job due to the loss of her daughter, Eva. She welcomes the Winters family warmly, maybe creepily so...She isn’t nearly as bad here, simply depressed. One thing Ethan doesn’t like is how she looks at Rose, but she’s just so similar to Eva when she was a baby...

-Alcina Dimitrescu is the direct descendent of the Dimitrescu family, and heir to the family business, their wine company. She lives in the old Dimitrescu castle that housed her family for generations. Classy, old-fashioned, (really hot)beautiful, smart and charming. She’s not as tall, of course, but she’s still a giant standing at 7 feet tall. She has a dislike of most men, having only female workers. Still, she and Ethan seem to respect eachother, not having that much of a relationship but oh well. She does have a good relationship with Mia, and they spend time talking about their daughters.

-The Dimitrescu sisters are Alcina’s adopted daughters and her pride and joy. They are also the town flirts, who encourage their “victims” to try their family’s wine. Most of the time a maid at the castle has left is because they were scared of their flirting. Still, aside from helping with the family business they have their respective jobs. Bela works at the library, where she can peacefully read any literature she can’t find at home. Just like at home she has to hush her sisters when they come find her and interrupt her readings. Cassandra has always had a love for cutting things up, so she works at a butcher shop. If it wasn’t for the money she would simply make this her life’s work. Daniela however can’t keep a job because she can’t keep herself from flirting with clients and co-workers alike.

-Donna Beneviento is a toymaker. She has a shop filled with superbly well made dolls, and in her free time makes replicas of other people she likes. She has a scar over her right eye that she specifically grew her hair long to cover. Her family died when she was little and she gained trauma that affected her social skills, so she talks through Angie, her pet parrot. No one really knows if Angie just knows what Donna wants to say of if she’s some gremlin trapped in a parrot’s body, but no one cares enough. They just like seeing her happy. Even so, behind the scenes, Donna is a drug dealer, selling hallucinogenic drugs as a side hustle. In the cast only the Dimitrescu sisters, who buy them, and Duke know about this.

-Salvatore Moreau is a school teacher, beloved by most children, though a tragic accident left him disfigured. He spends his free time in the river in the village’s reservoir, usually alone. Here, people are nice to him and acknowledge his existence. He also likes watching romance movies in his free time, as well as simply helping people around. Him and the Duke often go fishing together, and Daniela shows up to watch romance movies with her only fellow hopeless romantic.

-Karl Heisenberg owns the factory just outside of the village. What he does exactly...no one’s really sure, not even Ethan, who works with him. Speaking of Ethan, Karl treats him like a mad scientist treats his lab assistant. The man is the definition of a genius idiot, able to make incredible machines out of scrap but wear sunglasses inside ot at night. He also has a side job taking care of stray animals, though mostly dogs. His favourite is Sturm, a English Mastiff who’s also a complete idiot.

-The Duke is a shopkeeper who also runs a little café. He is beloved by all, his charm basically dripping from his large pockets. He knows everything about everyone, so be careful as to not stay on his bad side...He is the first person the Winterses befriend, and has offered to teach Mia the secrets of romanian cuisine.

-Urias and his brother are miners working near the reservoir. Big, burly, hairy and grumpy, you would almost think they’re lycans! They work for Miranda, though they are friendlier with Karl.

And that’s it. I might make something more outta this, maybe mess around and make stories and memes, who knows?

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part Three

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: Cursing; a little angst; mostly fluff tho Summary: When Marcus had first come to your lecture to ask for your help, he had been hesitant. 

Over the course of the following week, you spent more time with Marcus - both on the phone and in person - for the sake of getting a little more comfortable with one another. But to your surprise, there really wasn’t much that needed to be eased into. You went over to his place a couple more times, and he surprised you by showing up at your office once. He even plopped himself down on your crummy little office couch with a stack of quizzes and an answer key while the two of you chatted.

You’d been stunned to find how easily conversation flowed between the two of you, beyond his work at the Bureau. Sure, the two of you talked about his work, but he liked to hear about yours, too - about the student that had come to you for help with her thesis on Han Van Meegeren; about the freshman in your Art History 101 class that had turned up reeking of weed and raised their hand to clarify that you were discussing Michelangelo the painter, not the Ninja Turtle. Now and again, though, as things quieted between the two of you, Marcus would remind you how grateful that he was that you were doing this - that you didn’t have to, that he owed you one. You’d always lightly wave him off, tell him you’d never been to Austin and were getting free cake out of it. Marcus told you about growing up in Austin, living there; the band he’d been in in college, playing bass and singing; he told you about his ex-wife and ex-fiancé, and that he hadn’t given up on love yet. You told him about the endless days that you had spent at museums and galleries as a child, taking tours and falling in love with art and history. He never pressed you for details about your grandmother, about how you were moved from place to place, about when and how you began to fence her work for her. With Marcus, those things really didn’t seem to matter. But you felt so safe with Marcus, so comfortable that, well— You would’ve told him, if he asked. -- When Marcus had first come to your lecture to ask for your help, he had been hesitant. When the two of you got off of the plane in Austin, he was downright nervous.

The two of you used the flight going over your story again, running through some of the particulars of the week’s schedule that you hadn’t gotten to go over the week before. You also began to ease into that casual PDA that you knew his family would expect from the two of you - holding hands intermittently, touching the other on the knee to draw the other’s attention: twice, he’d leaned over and murmured in your ear to comment on the show that the person sitting in front of you was watching; once, you’d reached out and brushed back a stray strand of hair that had come loose from his otherwise controlled coif. 

He’d been a little uneasy as you’d gotten on the plane, and slightly jittery during the trip. It wasn’t a lengthy flight, so it didn’t take terribly long for his nerves to intensify. His leg had started bouncing somewhere over Atlanta. It hadn’t gotten any better as the plane had started to descend. What discomfort had triggered in Marcus was a hometown fact info-dump that you could never have seen coming. And god, it was some of the nerdiest shit that you’d ever heard. “You know this airport has one of the country’s longest commercial runways?” He told you as he hauled your suitcase off of the baggage carousel. “Really?” You asked teasingly. Marcus nodded, seeming to miss your tone as he lifted his own off of the carousel and set it down. “It used to be an old Air Force base, back in the— the 40′s? It actually opened to the public in, uh—1999 and—” “Hey,” You reached out, cupping his face to focus him. He went quiet, lips parted in surprise. You offered him a gentle smile. “It’s going to be fine,” You insisted. Marcus’ shoulders relaxed a little, and he turned his head, pressing a kiss to one of your palms. The feeling sent a wave of warmth through you, and you smiled, sweeping a thumb along his cheekbone before you let your hands fall away. You had to remind yourself that those little touches would be commonplace throughout the week.

“Before we get out there,” He said quietly. “Mm?” “I know I’ve said this before, but I really, really appreciate you doing this. I mean you didn’t have to, and… I wanna thank you for being here with me.” You felt your stomach flutter at his thanks, and you nodded. “Thank you for trusting me to be,” You returned. Marcus’ eyes searched your face for a moment, warm and kind, and the urge to hide bubbled up in your chest. You didn’t know what he was looking for, and you didn’t know if he would find it. “C’mon. We don’t wanna keep your mom waiting,” You added, taking hold of the handle of your suitcase. Marcus nodded, shifting his bag onto his arm and taking hold of your free hand. You intertwined your fingers, glancing up at him to make sure it was alright. He smiled, giving your hand a squeeze in turn. “How do you know so much about the airport, anyway?” You asked curiously. “Oh-- I’ve got a cousin that works here.” “You’ve got all the inside dirt, huh? I see how it is.” “Marky!” You heard crowed from a little ways away. “Marky?” You repeated quietly, glancing up at him, and grinning when you saw an embarrassed flush tipping his ears. “Do not start using that--” “Oh I’m so using it,” You laughed as the two of you approached the woman that had called out to him, “Gimme your bag,” You urged, gently untangling your hand from Marcus’ to take hold of his duffel so that he could hug his mother unencumbered. “Thanks-- Hey, mom,” Marcus grinned, embracing his mom. You grinned, watching the two of them, listening as the two chattered a little as they held to one another. He was nearly a head and a half taller than she was. “Is there someone you’d like to introduce me to?” She asked, peering at you around his arm. Marcus smiled, leaning away from her. “Yeah, there is. C’mere, sweetheart,” He murmured, holding a hand out to you. You felt yourself thrill a little, bashful as you ducked your head a bit. The two of you hadn’t discussed pet names, but ‘sweetheart’ sounded...so terribly dear coming out of that man’s mouth. You stepped closer to Marcus as he introduced you, passing his bag back when he gestured for it. “This is my mother, Jill Pike.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Pike,” You said lightly, holding your hand out to shake hers. “Call me Jill-- Oh, come here,” Jill laughed, tugging you in for a hug without a moment’s hesitation. Your brows rose at the tug, but you took the hug that was offered, smiling and laughing a little bit. “Jill-- it’s a pleasure to meet you. Marcus talks about you all the time.” “Oh,” Jill leaned away, holding you at arm’s length, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too! I’ll admit Marky has been light on the details,” She shot Marcus a look, as he made careful study of his shoes. “Oh, ma’am, I’m afraid that’s my fault,” You cut in quickly, “I’ve been told I’m a little hard to pin down.” Jill’s brows rose. “Mark, this one is a firecracker! Where’d you two meet?” She asked, hooking her arm through yours and steering you toward the exit. “Work. She’s been kind enough to assist us on several cases. We’d be lost without her.” You shot Marcus a thankful smile over the top of Jill’s head as the two of you walked through the parking lot. “He’s being too sweet-- You guys’d be fine.” “No, not true,” Marcus volleyed back, “That break in the Rosepoint case? It would’ve taken us months to find that dealer-- and the forger.” “Weeks at best.” “You cut the time down, sweetheart, just-- Take the compliment,” Marcus pouted a little, and you rolled your eyes, smiling. “Well, I’m glad I could help.” 

“You wanna sit up front?” Marcus offered, taking hold of your suitcase and lifting it into the trunk of his mom’s car. 

“Why don’t you? Give you and your mom some extra face time before the week gets busy,” You said. 

Jill smiled, giving your arm a light squeeze before letting go. Marcus rounded the car, opening the back door for you and pecking your cheek before you got in. 

--

You’d been a little apprehensive when Marcus had told you that you’d be staying with his family for the duration of the visit. But apparently Marcus always stayed with his family when he went home now, and you didn’t want to further mess with the family dynamic. He’d reassured you that the house had room enough for you all to be comfortably situated. “My parents can be a little old-fashioned,” He’d warned, “You know-- unmarried couples can’t sleep together, that kinda thing, but the house has three bedrooms. I’ll be in my old room, and you’ll be bunking in Marnie’s with her massive canopy bed-- and her Air Supply poster.” You’d appreciated his reassurances. The two of you had certainly gotten more relaxed around one another in his apartment and your office, but it was one thing to be nearby one another. It was another entirely to share a bed. You felt your nerves roil up in you as Marcus and Jill chatted in the front seat. You contributed to the conversation a little, answered questions when they were asked of you, but said little else. You were careful not to use your phone for the duration of the car ride, not wanting to seem rude, or like you weren’t paying attention. As Jill pulled the car into the driveway of the house on the wooded hillside, you found yourself perking up a bit more, despite your trepidation. You noted Marcus glancing back to look at you, but couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eye as you tried to take in each new little detail. He and Jill were still chattering as the three of you got out of the car, but you bring yourself to contribute. You just couldn’t help stop yourself from looking around. You looked over the two-story home with exposed brick exterior and dark wooden door. You spotted someone peering out at you through the front window before hurrying away when you met their eyes. Marcus’ hand rested on your lower back as he murmured, “Are you alright?” In your ear. “You grew up here?” You asked, a little dazed. Moving around as much as you had, the places you’d stayed had never been any bigger than a two-bedroom apartment. You couldn’t imagine spending your whole childhood in a house— especially one as beautiful as this. “Yeah,” Marcus chuckled softly as he steered you up in the front walkway, “If you think this is nice, wait until you see the back porch.” “You have a porch?” “Oh, honey,” Jill laughed as she opened the front door, “We’ll have to get you down here more often.” 

--

Marnie was a streak of dark hair and lanky limbs that launched herself at her brother with a squeal of excitement the second Marcus crossed the threshold. He dropped his hand from your back just in time to catch hold of her, clearly anticipating the charge. You smiled, taking a step to the side to give them adequate room as Marcus lightly rocked them side to side. “Do you have any siblings?” Jill asked softly as the two of you watched the reunion, the two chattering between one another. You shook your head a little bit, glancing over at Jill and smiling. “Do you?” “Five sisters. Imagine that bathroom when we were all late for school,” Jill laughed. You turned back as you heard Marcus say your name. “Oh, I know who she is,” Marnie waved Marcus off as she broke away from her brother, “Honestly, no name has puzzled me more since you told me that you were talking Shlomo Ziegler to prom.” “Was...Shlomo going with someone else?” You frowned. “There was no Shlomo Ziegler. He heard the name on an episode of the Golden Girls,” Jill explained. “Oh, honey,” You turned a sympathetic smile up at Marcus before taking a step closer to Marnie. Marnie had the same kind eyes that her brother did. Their noses were the same, too, but her cheekbones and lips were like her mother’s. She pulled you in the same way that Jill did, giving you a light squeeze before leaning back to get a better look. “It’s nice to meet you,” You smiled, “I’ve heard a lot about you-- About all of you.” And that was technically true. “I’ll grab your bag and run it up to Marnie’s old room,” Marcus reassured, resting his hand on your lower back. “Oooh,” Marnie cringed, glancing between the two of you, “I meant to mention, um-- I’m staying here this week.” Marcus froze, glancing between you and Marnie. “W-Why?” “Well, Hazel and I thought it would be kinda cute, you know, spending the week apart. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and stuff.” “So I’ll...Sleep... On the couch?” Marcus frowned. Jill waved him off. “Oh, you and your sweetheart can sleep in the same room. You’re all adults now, christssake,” She laughed, reaching up and pinching his cheek. You glanced back at him, raising a brow at his stunned expression. This was going to be an adjustment, but part of the reason you were down there with Marcus was to help him roll with the punches. He could only do that if you did.  “Yeah, Marky,” You smiled, reassuring, “We’re all adults.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​​​ ; @spideysimpossiblegirl​​​ ; @blueeyesatnight​​​ ; @elen-aranel​​​ ; @yespolkadotkitty​​​ ; @artsymaddie​​​ ; @phoenixhalliwell​​​ ; @lunaserenade​​​ ; @winniedaboo​  ; @empress-palpat1ne​​​ ; @randomness501​​ ; @nutmeg-20​ ; @leonieb​​ ; @the-feckless-wonder​ ; @lou-la-lou​ ; @captain-jebi​ ; @supernaturalgirl​ ; @naturenebula21​ ; @evelynseventyr​ ; @giselatropicana​ ; @heatherbel​ ; @marydjarin​ ; @annathewitch​ ; @absurdthirst​

[bbytamaki]

BUNGOU STRAY DOGS as public high school students.

with: atsushi, dazai, ranpo, kunikida, yosano, kenji, kyouka, chuuya, akutagawa, tachihara, gin

genre: crack

warnings: american public school. that’s it.

note: the kenji bias jumped out but i am not ashamed 😌

atsushi — never knows what’s going on. the one in the class group chat who always asks “did [insert teacher here] give us work today?”. his grades are just barely passing but that works for him. tries to put in a lot of effort but ends up exhausted. honestly just wants to go home. he’s just trying his best.

dazai — never goes to class?? he just pops up in random classes and none of the teachers even know what class he’s actually supposed to be in. no one even knows if this is his real school. somehow isn’t failing. actually pretty nice to people. has some random but hilarious title in the school yearbook.

ranpo — that one kid who literally has whole meals in the back of class. once ordered food to the school and ate it in the middle of class (this actually happened in my sophomore year 💀). is never seen in his first period without a monster. was the school snack dealer until he got caught and had fukuzawa bail him out. the naturally funny senior that’s friends with everyone.

kunikida — corrects the teacher shamelessly. (not-so) secretly a burnt out gifted kid. now spends his time tutoring the freshman. has the best calculator by far. in a bunch of clubs (he’s definitely an overachiever). practically besties with the librarian and school counselor. seems like a very motivated person but is actually on his last straw waaaay before the second semester is over.

yosano — adopts introverted freshman but not in the annoying way. gives them answers on quizzes for teachers she’s had before them. has the prettiest supplies and everyone always asks where she gets them from. works on the yearbook committee and makes sure that all of her friends have the best pictures put in. she’s popular for all the best reasons.

kenji — you have to watch out for this one. he’s the super nice freshman that you have to remind take time for himself sometimes. he really enjoys being friends with you. keeps an extra copy of his notes in case you forget. really good at basketball in p.e. but never plays for the school team. the ideal locker room/bathroom/quick-trip-to-the-office-cause-i-got-dress-coded buddy. honestly who wouldn’t want to be friends with kenji.

kyouka — best outfits. kenji’s goth bestie. always asleep in class but manages to catch whatever the teacher is saying. one of the cool members of the lgbtqia+ alliance club. takes notes like a god. surprisingly popular as a freshman because she knows so many upperclassman. not really a teacher’s pet but is pretty cool with all the teachers and even get extra grace periods for late work sometimes (i’m not saying it’s me but it’s me 😃).

chuuya — the one everyone asks to braid his hair. always looks tired, always is tired. doesn’t smoke in the bathroom but he’s always around when it happens somehow. i am a firm believer in introverted high schooler chuuya. one of the quiet kids dazai always hangs around. everyone wonders how he hasn’t beaten dazai’s ass yet. his senior photos are absolutely stunning.

akutagawa — pencil chewer. doesn’t like anyone except gin and chuuya and atsushi. famous for growling/hissing at people in elementary/middle school and now he’s just there. doesn’t like anyone but cannot stand bullies. has gotten into quite a few fights because of this (and won). had ear piercings in high school but took them out when he got older. doesn’t bring a backpack, just one (1) pencil and a beat up notebook from 8th grade that was somehow salvaged.

tachihara — everyone assumes that he’s had like 12 boyfriends/girlfriends. that one boy that literally never has his shirt on in gym class. remembers his whole homeroom’s birthdays and brings everyone gifts even if he doesn’t really know them. famous for coming up with the most memorable senior prank. the underclassmen’s big brother. will let someone borrow his jacket or bring them to the nurse’s office without a second thought.

gin — has like 2 friends and they are chuuya and tachihara. sits by the big friend group at lunch to hear the gossip. has in headphones most of the day. comes home and immediately goes to sleep for like 4 hours straight. perfect attendance, spotless record. anytime she joins a club or does an extracurricular tachihara is joining right behind her like “yes bestie :)”. everyone asks to borrow lotion from her because her lotion smells so good.

tags: @cross-crye

[shookspearewrites]

Hey there @sweettangy I hope that you’re well, sweetpea! Thank you so much for this request, it was so so specific which is cool but, I had to stray slightly off path for it all to make sense, I hope that’s okay ^^’ 

Thank you all so much for reading and sticking by me whilst my uploads have kinda been few and far between, it means the world to me & I hope that I can continue to make content that y’all enjoy!

- JJ x

~~~~~~~~~~

Napoleon Bonaparte:

As MC prepared herself for an onslaught of yelling, insults and false accusations from her awful boss, her protective boyfriend Napoleon was just finishing his work teaching for the day. He and MC had agreed to meet after work so that they might go out for dinner together so, he had finished up with the children early that evening so that he could go and pick his darling up from work.

When Napoleon arrived at the art shop, he witnessed a confrontation between MC and her boss from outside the window. His body moved before he could think, rushing into the shop to shield his lover with his own body so that he stood in between her and her boss.

“Pray tell, sir, what business do you have with my employee?” The shop owner smiled condescendingly, nastily at Napoleon but, the ex-emperor stood his ground, protecting MC.

“I am her protector and I’d like to know what business you have showing her such disrespect. It is incredibly ungentlemanly to mistreat a lady.” The vampire, turned his gaze towards MC before speaking to her quietly, “Get you belongings and wait outside for me.”

As MC scrambled to grab her bag and coat, Napoleon took another step towards the shop owner, his right hand resting on the hilt of his rapier, “Now, sir, I don’t wish to cause you or your business any harm, but, mistreating a lady is the most unacceptable of crimes. I’d suggest that you pay compensation to this poor woman and increase her salary ... should you want to keep your reputation untarnished in the public eye, that is.”

“Y-you have no right -”

“Oh, I think you’ll find that I have every right to protect the mademoiselle and see that her honour is kept in tact,” Napoleon turned to leave, glaring at the shop keeper one last time, “If I hear that she has come to any harm by your hand, you should expect a visit from the police.” 

As soon as Napoleon left the shop, MC rushed into his arms, tucking herself tightly against his warm chest. The lady gently kissed her lover’s shoulder and lifted her gazed to meet his, “You saved me...”

“I promised that I always would, didn’t I?” Napoleon stroked MC’s hair comfortingly, a warm smile spread across her lips as his hand fell to grasp her own, “Would you still like to get dinner? Or do you want to go home and relax?”

“Dinner sounds nice...”

“As you wish, my lady,” he replied sweetly, taking her arm in his own as they walked to their restaurant of choice to enjoy dinner, with Napoleon fiercely protecting MC for the rest of the night.

Theodorus van Gogh:

Theo needed to pick up some paints for Vincent whilst he was out so, he thought he might as well visit his lover at work, after all, she did work in an art supplies shop. The Dutchman was actually rather excited to see MC’s beautiful smile after his already long day of tireless work though, he wouldn’t admit it out loud, not being great at expressing himself vocally as he was.

Meanwhile, inside of the quaint art shop, the usually bright and joyful lady was near to tears as her boss berated her unnecessarily, her lip quivering and eyes tightly shut. But before another rude remark could be thrown her way, the bell above the door chimed as Theodorus van Gogh walked into the establishment, his face soured with anger.

The owner turned his attention to the well known art dealer and let a smile creep up onto his face as he greeted his best customer, “Bonjour Theodore! What can I do for you today?” MC inched herself further away from her boss, her throat raw and tears pooling in her pretty eyes, a reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by either of the men who stood in the small shop, “My apologies for the atmosphere, I was just teaching my employee that her manners could be improved upon.”

“I see ...” Theo grumbled roughly under his breath before he turned his attention to his lover who cowered in place, seeming to want the ground to consume her, “Mademoiselle, are you in danger here?”

“I beg your pardon! I-”

“Don’t interrupt her,” Theo growled at the shop owner before speaking to MC once again, “Mademoiselle, would you like me to escort you home?” MC nodded quickly in response before rushing over to hide behind her fiance’s back, clinging to his coat as she trembled. The vampire’s sharp cerulean eyes found the older man as he scowled in his direction, “I suggest that your manners need improvement, monsieur. Endangering a woman, scaring her like you have, that should get you thrown in prison.” Without another word, Theo collected MC’s handbag which had fallen to the floor and led her out of the shop.

Once the couple had reached a quiet alley which was out of sight of the shop, Theo pulled his fiancée to his chest tightly, running a soothing hand down her back until she could breathe a little easier, “Are you hurt?”

“N-no,” MC responded shakily as she looked up to meet Theo’s worried gaze, “T-thank you...”

“Lets go home, yeah? And don’t worry about your job, I have the right connections to set you up somewhere better. There’s this new shop in Carré Rive Gauche that sells art supplies that you might like.” Theodorus took his fiancée's hand in his own and squeezed it carefully before they began to travel home.

Vincent van Gogh:

Vincent desperately needed some new paintbrushes so, what better reason was there to visit his darling sunflower at work? There was an easy spring in his step as he approached her place of work, the afternoon sun beginning to dip in the sky, painting the sky in warm hues of orange and pink though, the scene inside of the art shop was not so pretty.

MC could only stare at the ground, frozen with fear as her boss yelled at her for seemingly no reason. Her throat felt tight and dry, her eyes stinging with hot tears as the shouting continued - She had to do something, to protect herself but, the moment she opened her mouth, she was interrupted by the front door swinging shut.

“Vincent, what a pleasure it is to see you! You need more paintbrushes again?” The shop owner’s expression shifted to show his regular customer a kind smile though, there was still a piercing aggression in his gaze which flickered towards MC, “Perhaps my assistant could be a good little lady for once and help you out? Would make her somewhat useful.” MC’s boss laughed jovially but, Vincent didn’t appreciate his words, instead, his cherubic face turned down into a scowl which could challenge his brother’s.

“It is unimaginably rude to speak so ill of a lady, sir,” the vampire spoke affirmatively, his china blue eyes filled with frustration as he stepped in between MC and the shop owner, “And I’d appreciate it if you’d kindly apologise to her.” Vincent shot MC a gentle smile before turning his attention back to her boss.

“I don’t see why I should! You and I both know that women are not worth nearly as half as much as a man,”

“That’s enough!” The artist raised his voice for the first time in decades, his face growing more troubled by the second before he grasped onto MC’s hand tightly, leading the pair of them from the shop immediately.  The pair of them were both shaking as they reached a secluded corner of the busy street where they clung onto each other tightly. Vincent carefully cupped MC’s cheeks in his warm hands and assessed her face for signs of pain, “You’re safe with me, MC. Please tell me that you’re not hurt.”

“I-I’m not hurt,” the lady replied quietly, trying desperately to catch her breath and calm her pounding heart, “... I can’t go back to work there again.”

“You don’t have to,” her boyfriend affirmed to her before grasping her hands in his own and kissing them, “I promised I’d keep you safe and to do that, I’ll not have you going back to that shop again.”

Jean D’Arc:

Jean had been a little apprehensive when you’d told him that you’d found yourself a job, after all, the Victorian era didn’t treat women well at all. But, he’d relented and let you find work at an art shop as he didn’t want to stifle your opportunities or control you, plus, you’d only be working a few doors down from his weapons shop. 

Shouting could be heard from within the art shop as MC’s boss blamed all of the day’s problems on her, despite none of them being her fault. Each yell, each false accusation felt like an arrow in MC’s fragile heart though, before another shot could be made, the door swung open and in rushed Jean.

The solider drew his sword and approached the shop owner with a cold, intense glare, positioning himself so that he was ready to swing his weapon at any given moment, “Mademoiselle, take shelter in my shop while I have a discussion with your boss.” MC grabbed her things and rushed out of the shop and down a few doors to Jean’s shop where she locked the door behind her. 

Meanwhile, the art shop dealer trembled and stuttered, fear gripping him as he stared at Jean, “M-monsieur, w-what do you w-want from m-me?”

“For you not to mistreat my mademoiselle.” The vampire stared at the other man coldly, inching his sword slightly closer towards him, “And in return, I shall leave you and your establishment unharmed.”

“You can’t j-just walk in here and  t-threaten me - I’ll call the police!”

“Go ahead, but, you won’t have much luck with them without vocal cords.” Jean glared at the other man and pointed the tip of his sword dangerously close to his throat, “It is a gentleman’s duty to protect the fairer sex, especially his own mademoiselle. I’d suggest you uphold your duties as a man and cease your mistreatment of my mademoiselle unless you’d like me to pay you another visit.” The soldier lowered his sword and strode out of the art shop before rushing back to his own establishment where MC waited for him. 

The couple reunited and held onto each other tightly, both of them comforted by the other’s presence. Jean assessed MC for wounds, relieved when he found that she was unhurt. He held her closely, pressing kisses to her hair and running his hand down her back comfortingly until the carriage came to collect them and he once again vowed to always come to her rescue.

[magic-by-nora]

Name: Nora Lucas

Age: 28 (November 3rd, 1994)

Gender: Cisgender female (she/her)

Sexuality: Pansexual

Circle: Power

Occupation: Blackjack Dealer at The Carmilla/Freelance Magic Dealer

What is Known

A mage that almost sprang out of no where, Nora has spent the last eleven years training and building up her powers in the Midnight Underground. Her name is a common one tossed around if you want a magical solution to something.  

There is no office to request her work, nor does she allow people to go to her home at any odd hour like a stray cats asking for food. If you want her service, find her at the blackjack table. It’s odd, she always seems to know when people sit at her table for magic work or normal gambling and will give people who wish to hire her a special poker chip. While holding it, they can have a telepathic conversation with each other in order to work out the details of the job. A bit excessive? Maybe, but at least this way she doesn’t have to waste money on an office space, or worse, handing out her phone number.

Regulars do not need to go through the effort of meeting her at the Carmilla. For them, she hands out a business card which they can write on to put in a request. 

She has a frequent customer card. For every 10th spell, you get a free potion of your choice.

She has a familiar that acts as a service dog for her. His name is Pip and he is a Bernese Mountain Dog. He is a good boy. 

She isn’t a troublemaker–no she rejects that title. After all, no one can prove that she was the one that placed that spell on the pen to never be able to write clearly on paper or the cup that turns any alcohol poured in it into water. Harmless prankster or a menace to society? The judge is out on that one.

While she is able to cast any type of spell that one might need of her, she is particularly gifted at mental wards. They are her most expensive service since the wards are near impenetrable, though they will eventually weaken if the wards aren’t reinforced every year. Some claim this is her scam to get more money out of people and she hasn’t confirmed nor denied this rumor.

What People Think They Know ⁙ common rumors ⁙

Pip seems like he’s more dog than familiar. Maybe he really is just a service dog. What would a powerful wizard need with a service dog?

You can get cheaper prices in her spell work if you sleep with her. 30% of the time this works 100% of the time.

She has no loyalties, not even to her own circle. She only cares about what will be best for her, no matter the consequences to everyone else.

Those glasses she wears are definitely one of those hipster glasses that aren’t prescription. It’s all to fit the “I’m smarter than you are” aesthetic.

What Will Be Left Unsaid

Her power comes from a curse on her family that gives everyone born in her family the ability to practice magic at the expense of their sanity. The Navarro Curse, as it is usually referred to among the Midnight Underground, has been around for centuries and any wizards from this bloodline can cast strong spells and create incredible acts of magic, but usually only for a year or two at best. Afterward, the wizard will lose all sense of sanity and as such their ability to practice magic. Almost all members of her family choose to ignore the gift which causes it to fade until eventually they are an average human. 

With the help from her great-grandmother’s research, she discovered that she could protect her mind when she casts spells by offering other physical aspects of her body, such as the use of a limb or sense of smell. The effects of this offering eventually wear off and she gets full use of her body again, but it is never exactly the same as it was before. A piece of her is always lost with every spell she casts–she has just gotten good at making sure it is as small of piece as possible.

She was born Leticia Navarro but changed her name to Nora Lucas to avoid the stigma of her family curse.

She is the longest living Navarro wizard in recent history, possibly even ever. She doesn’t know how long she will live nor what will happen once her body has nothing left to offer. As far as she knows, she is living on borrowed time and she’d be damned if she’s not going to live it the way she wants to. 

She comes from a large family who had always told her she was foolish to indulge in the family curse, that is until she gave her blind half-sister her sight back. For several years after, her family relied on her to give them every little thing they ever wanted and the effort left her with a permanent tremor in her left hand. When she finally put her foot down, they turned on her and was kicked out. That her bitterness towards them has soured her perception of most mortals.

[mellointheory]

la lune, within our bones

He should probably be thinking about the kiss, but there’s pulsing lights and deep, determined bass and the buzz in his head from alcohol. The woman was sitting next to him at one point, but now one of her legs is hooked over his lap and her hands are in his hair and her lips are on his. He’s kissing her back, because on some level it’s what he wants to do, but most of his mind is occupied by watching the slow transition of the throbbing lights from blue to purple to red. There’s the wet-velvet sensation of another tongue in his mouth and the taste of peach from a drink he’s never tried, He’s not sure if he forgot her name already or if she never introduced herself in the first place.

“Oi, Punz!” Someone shouts. The woman pulls back, glancing over her shoulder at where Red stands with his boyfriend slumped in his arms.

“Stop trying to get your cock sucked and keep an eye on Ant for me while I go find Gumi.” Red orders, dumping Antfrost on the couch next to Punz.

“Sorry about this,” Punz says to the woman, compelled to apologize as he eases her off of him. She smiles, a little regretfully he thinks, and slides off the couch.

“Hi, Punzo.” Ant slurs, his cheek squished up against Punz’s shoulder. He’s absolutely wasted, eyes dilated from a combination of alcohol and lack of light to the point where his pupils have widened to take up most of his irises. His ears are perked upright, twitching and swivelling at the slightest noise.

“Hi, Ant.” Punz whispers back, because he knows the hybrid’s ears are sharp enough to hear him even if he keeps his voice down. “You ready to head home?”

Ant nods. His shock of pink hair looks purple in the blue lights, and Punz is compelled to reach over with the arm Ant isn’t pinning down and pat him on the head. Ant blinks, eyes drifting closed, and a stuttering purr starts up in his chest. If Punz had been irritated in the first place by getting interrupted, it would have taken no more than this to mollify him.

“Where did Red go?” Ant asks, lifting his head slightly.

“Getting Gumi.” Punz runs a hand through his hair, trying to get it to look less messy. He’s nowhere near as drunk as Ant is, but most definitely not sober enough to drive. Thank god Red’s less-than-legitimate profession as an enhancement maker gives him a better alcohol tolerance than the other three of them.

Red slides through the crowd again, this time hauling Gumi with him. She wavers a little when he lets go, but manages to stay upright.

“I’m gonna go get the car,” Red turns with a two-fingered salute and ducks through the throng of dancing, swaying people. Punz meets Gumi’s eyes as she waves, her mask removed for once and clutched loosely in one hand. She walks, very carefully, over to him and folds her arms.

“What’s up, bastards?”

“Hi, Gumi.” Ant lifts his head off Punz’s shoulder and raises his hand. Gumi lurches forward and high-fives him with more enthusiasm than her balance can handle. She stumbles and Punz rises to his feet and grabs her by the elbows, keeping her from falling.

“Can either of you walk?” He asks, turning to look at Antfrost still settled into the couch.

“Shut up, Punztholemew, I can walk better than you can!” Gumi declares. Punz already knows she’s lying. He takes a deep breath and turns around, hauling her up onto his back. She used to weigh less than she does now; but the metal reinforcements in her arms and legs add to it. Her chin rests on his shoulder and she folds her arms around his neck.

Moving slower, careful to keep from overbalancing the cyborg on his back, Punz reaches over to Ant and heaves him upright. If Foolish had agreed to come to the club tonight he would have someone to help him drag these two to Red’s car, but as it is he has to maneuver his way through the crowd and down the street without any help. He can sling Ant’s arm over his shoulders to help the hybrid walk, but Gumi’s too short for her to reach. He used to tease her for getting so many augmentations, yet not changing her height at all.

Red’s car is idling in the street when Punz has finally managed to shoulder his way through the crowd and get outside. The enhancement dealer reaches over and opens up the passenger side door, holding a hand out to his boyfriend. His pale green eyes catch the light from the club’s sign, turning reflective like a stray dog’s at night. Red is full human, much like Punz, but the amount of time he spends with whatever ingredients he puts in his concoctions...it changes him, subtly.

Punz slides Ant’s arm off his neck and helps the hybrid into the car.

“I miss my dawg.” Gumi mumbles into the back of Punz’s neck as he opens the car’s side door and eases her off his back into the middle row of seats. He slides in next to her and closes the car door.

“I miss Floof.” Ant says sadly from the front seat as Red steps on the gas.

“She’s literally at our house.” Red tells him patiently.

Gumi leans over and bumps her head against Punz’s shoulder. Her purple eyes are dark violet at the moment, lit only by the sporadic brightness of street lamps they pass. She’s not using them to read communications or analyze weak points or capture images, so their glow is dormant. It reminds him of back before she got her enhancements, when her eyes were always this dark and her bones weren’t reinforced with steel.

“Kazu’s at your apartment with your roommate, right?” Punz asks her, because he’d like to reassure her but he legitimately has no idea where her dog is. It’s not something he often concerns himself with.

“Yeah, but I miss him.” Gumi sighs, making grabby hands at Ant in the front seat. He flicks his tail back, above the center console, and she immediately wraps her hands around the soft fur. She always gets like this when she’s drunk; wanting to go pet whatever animal is in the vicinity. Antfrost is usually willing to stand in as a replacement when there are none.

The car falls into a comfortable silence. Punz stares out the window, watching the play of street lamps on the ground, how the light they cast dims almost to darkness until, just in time, another lamp is stationed to brighten the road again. Ant is purring in the front seat, the noise barely distinguishable over the rumble of the car’s engine. Gumi hums quietly to herself as she rubs the fur of his tail between her fingers. Every once in a while the humming becomes soft, mumbled singing that Ant joins in on before they both fade to silence again.

Sometimes Punz thinks about the irony of him and Red, both full unmodified humans, dragging a sloppy drunk cyborg and cat hybrid home from a club. Street noise down below, Gumi’s weight on his back as he stands outside the apartment door. Red fumbles with the keys, one arm wrapped securely around Ant’s waist as he tries to unlock the door. The hybrid is almost asleep on his feet, and as soon as Red gets the door open he uses his free hand to pick his boyfriend up and heads straight to their bedroom.

“I claim the burrito blanket!” Gumi whispers into Punz’s ear as he kicks the door closed behind them and carries her to the living room. He’s not actually certain if he’s ever been in this house sober, but both of them have slept on these couches enough that they know where everything is. He lowers Gumi to the loveseat and she immediately snatches the fuzzy burrito print blanket that’s draped over the top of it.

It’s easier for him to think without the overwhelming sound and lights, but his head is still foggy as he goes to the kitchen, squinting against the light that shines from the fridge when he opens it. He pulls out a bottle of water for Gumi, then one for himself, and leans against the door to close it.

“Punztholemew!” Gumi calls from the living room, head poking out over the top of the couch. She’s wrapped herself in the blanket, black jacket discarded on the carpeted floor. He looks over, then sighs and starts back to the living room.

“I love you!” She says, poking a finger into the side of his cheek.

He hands her a bottle of water. “Drink water, Gumi.”

“Say it back, bastard.” She frowns at him.

“I love you too, Gumi.” Punz says gently as he sinks into the recliner. She smiles and snuggles down against the arm of the couch, uncapping her bottle.

He lets his mind drift down into the haze of alcohol and exhaustion, staring at the blue light from the back of the tv. It’s the only light in the room and it illuminates the pair of couches, shag carpet, and Gumi’s curled-up form in soft milky light.

“Punztholemew,” she whispers, her face shadowed by the blanket wrapped all around her.

“Yes, Gumi?” Punz’s voice is gravelly in his tiredness.

“Where did my mask go?” She frowns.

Punz pats the front pocket of his hoodie and finds the curved dark mental there. He pulls it out and puts it on the coffee table. Gumi always wore the mask, even back when she was full human like Punz. He couldn’t have forgiven himself if he let her forget it at the club. “Here.”

“Oh, good.” Gumi yawns. “I miss my dawg.”

“You said that already.” Punz tells her. They keep their voices low, partially out of worry of waking up Ant and Red and partially because the dark room and the faint street noise and the blue, steady light of the television demand it from them somehow.

“Gumi…” Punz puts the hood of his jacket up and pulls on the strings, engulfing his face in white fabric. “Do they still hurt?”

She’s quiet, lifting a hand out of her blanket cocoon and staring at it thoughtfully. Hurting isn’t the word for it, Punz knows. Gumi could afford a technician who knew how to augment someone without fucking them up in the process. Hurting was just the way Gumi described it to Punz years ago, when they got drunk a few months after her surgery and she passed out on his couch crying about it. It wasn’t pain, she’d said, it was feeling like there was something missing about her, like the metal woven into her system made her less human. They didn’t talk about it often, only on nights like this when secrets whispered may not even be remembered when morning came.

“It still feels weird sometimes.” Gumi closed her fist, then tucked her hand back under the blanket. She lowered her cheek to the arm of the couch, the side of her face squishing up. “But nights like this are good. We all get to ignore them.”

Punz wasn’t known for his eloquence or anything, nor his ability to verbally comfort his friends. He wasn’t good at that kinda thing, nor did he fully understand what it was like for Gumi to have all of the little modifications that made her slightly more than human. All he could do was treat her the same as he’d always done: help carry her home even with the new solidity of the metal in her bones, let her lose her balance in her alcoholic haze even though if she wanted she could automatically stabilize herself even unconsciously. Let her have nights where she drank until she forgot, because sometimes it felt wrong to remember everything.

“Do you ever wish you hadn’t done it?” Punz asks. When she first made the decision she’d asked if he was going to do it too, and he’d said no because he couldn’t imagine letting his entire body no longer be wholly his.

“No.” Gumi’s answer comes without any hesitation. “I’m all strong and buff now. And I’m fucking cracked at combat.”

Punz cracks a smile. “You are.”

“I just like not always having to be like this.” One of her hands is absent-mindedly caressing the felt of the couch covers. “Is it annoying sometimes?”

“Is what annoying?”

“Havin’ to do all this funky monkey stuff for me when I’m wasted.” She giggles.

“Ant gets drunk as hell too and no one ever gets bothered by him.” Punz points out.

“It’s different, bastard.” She waves her middle finger at him.

“Damn, okay.” Punz laughs softly. “No, it’s not annoying. You’re just being you.”

“I’m s’posed to be better.” She mumbles, pushing her face into the arm of the couch. Silky black hair, highlighted in blue, blocks her face from his vision.

“You’re not supposed to be anything except our friend, Gumi.” Punz says gently. “And you still are. Always will be.”

“Pinky promise?” Gumi sticks out her hand across the gap between the two couches, hand in a fist except for her smallest finger sticking out. Punz stretches across, leaning a little to reach, and wraps his pinky finger around hers. She knocks their fists together, then lowers her hand.

“Love you, Punztholemew.” Gumi curls back up in her blanket burrito.

This time he says it back before she can remind him to.

[lumosinlove]

Relic Keel

(warnings in tags)

part iii

PREVIOUSLY ON RELIC KEEL:

Logan Tremblay escaped from Saint Clair Orphanage around one month ago—and he’s torn up with guilt about it and leaving Finn behind.

Dorcas realizes that Logan is getting his stash from the dangerous Carrow twins.

The two go off to Sirius and James’ party at Shack Beach.

Dorcas is surprised by Marlene, and we can see that there is some sort of rift between them about leaving this island and Dorcas selling Crucio.

Once the Gods show up at the party, Sirius is surprised to see Luke Deveaux and Remus Lupin among James’ company—he’s never seen them in The Hollow before. It startles Sirius into a memory of the last time he saw Remus, the last day he was at school.

Luke mistakes Saint and Sirius for Crucio dealers, insults Saint, and him and Sirius fight. We learn Luke’s dad is in jail and that Sirius’ old abusive home life is common knowledge.

As the party breaks up, we go further down to a dark part of the beach where Logan, having taken Crucio, sits with a phantom Finn, asking Finn why he made Logan leaving him behind. Leo finds Logan that way, exhausted and in tears, and takes Logan home with him.

The next morning with James, Remus, and Luke at Remus’ house, we learn that Luke’s dad is in jail for fraud. They go to breakfast at the Hogshead where Thomas works—and won’t sell Luke any Crucio. When James asks where he gets it, Thomas tells him to go talk to Dorcas or Kasey Winter, who is the other supplier and the boyfriend of Lily and Marlene’s friend, Natalie Darcy. James spots Lily out the window. Lily won’t talk to him, but James seems to want to and convinces Lily to meet him at Gryffindor club later.

Logan wakes up in Leo’s warm bed, goes to The Lion where Leo works, and learns that Leo’s father died in a storm—and that Leo won’t say anything more than that.

“Something’s wrong,” Lily said. “I can tell, Marls, come on.”

Marlene sighed, looking at Lily on the bedspread and kicking her door shut behind her. She set the popcorn on the bed between them before carefully climbing on herself to sit across from Lily. 

“Well, what’s wrong with you?” Marlene said, popping a kernel into her mouth.

Lily tilted her head. “Deflecting.”

Marlene put her hands over Lily’s between them. “James is a really good guy, Lils. And you’ve liked each other since we were, what, eleven?”

Lily just shook her head. “I asked you first.”

Marlene just looked at her. “It’s…not big.”

Lily narrowed her eyes. “Really?”

Marlene hesitated, looking down. She took a deep breath. “I got into college.”

Lily blinked. “Not big? Marlene! Congratulations!”

“And…” Marlene sighed again. “I haven’t told Dorcas.”

“Well,” Lily began. “Well—well, why not?”

“Because that’s not how she wants to leave this place,” Marlene said, picking at a stray thread. “Because she wants to just…run free. I don’t really understand what she thinks is going to happen, no matter how much money we have, I just…I know she doesn’t exactly have college in mind.” Marlene looked back at Lily. “What I mean is, I know we haven’t talked about it.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “You should talk about it.”

Marlene raised an eyebrow right back. “Says the girl who’s been avoiding James for an entire month.”

Lily winced. “That’s—different. We’re not together. We just…”

“Had sex.”

Lily slapped a hand over her eyes. “Oh God. It was so good.”

That startled a laugh out of Marlene. “Then what, pray tell, is your issue?”

Lily let her hand fall. Her eyes looked sadder. “Wouldn’t it be easier to be happy about getting into college if you weren’t leaving anything behind?”

“What?”

Lily looked down at the popcorn.

“What, Lily Evans?” Marlene said, louder. “Jesus fucking—Lily.”

Lily sighed and got up. “I know. Look, I need to get to the Club for dinner. My parents—and James, I…” she sighed. “Fuck, we have a lot going on for what was suppose to be a peaceful summer.”

Marlene laughed, half-heartedly. “Yeah, we do.”

~

Leo was pulling the key out of the lock to The Lion when a voice spoke.

“Did your dad really die in a storm?”

He froze for a second, listening to the crickets singing in the falling darkness, then turned, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. Logan was standing a few feet away.

“That’s really just a rude question,” Leo said. “Like, seriously.”

“I’m an orphan, I’m curious about people’s parents,” Logan said, then smiled a little, sarcastically mostly, at Leo’s face. “You don’t have to pretend like you don’t know what I am.”

“Why do you take Crucio?” Leo replied. He walked forward until he was face to face with Logan, looking down at him. “Why do you sell it?”

Logan’s stance shifted. “That’s really just a rude question.”

“Huh, is it?” Leo said. “Well.”

Leo watched Logan’s eyes track his hands as he pulled his backpack off.

“What are you doing?”

Leo pulled out a take-out bag, top rolled closed, and shoved it into Logan’s chest. “Let’s go home. You can eat while we walk, I already did.”

Leo stalked into the dark, not sure why he cared so much, and waiting for Logan to follow.

“What made you come back?” Leo asked and hoped he wasn’t now talking to himself.

“I didn’t know I was suppose to stay,” Logan replied. “I thought you just thought you were doing me a favor.”

“Pretty sure I was,” Leo glanced at him. He could see his necklace resting against his neck, over Leo’s old t-shirt.

“I’m fine.”

Leo shrugged. “Okay, you’re fine.”

They walked in silence, save for Logan crinkling the bag open and pulling out his dinner.

“Fuck,” Logan said, mouth full. “What is this?”

Leo couldn’t help but smile. “My own creation.”

“It’s—The Lion doesn’t have this on the menu.”

“No,” Leo agreed. “I said it was mine.”

“Don’t you want it on the menu?”

“I sort of maybe want to run The Lion one day,” Leo said. “Better to have some secret ammo.”

Logan scoffed. “Seriously?”

“It’s not so strange,” Leo said. “It’s a great place. It helps a lot of people—why are you looking at me like that?”

Logan shrugged. “You’re the only person I’ve ever met who isn’t trying to get off this island.”

Leo took a breath and kept walking. Suddenly, he wanted to tell Logan. He didn’t know why.

“I can’t,” Leo said. “There’s too much here.”

“Like what? Some good food, beaches, and an orphanage? An island full of people who seem to hate each other?”

“My dad’s work was here,” Leo said before he could stop himself.

“Your dad’s work,” Logan repeated.

Leo didn’t look at him when he nodded. “The Voldemort.”

Logan opened his mouth as they climbed the porch steps to Leo’s house, but Leo held a finger to his lips.

“Not in front of my mom,” he whispered, and got out his keys.

~

“What are we doing with ourselves tonight, hot stuff?” Saint said.

Sirius looked over at him from his mattress and held up the bottle of whiskey. “What, we’re not doing something right now?”

“We are,” Saint looked at Sirius in the mirror, face framed by the dozens of golden necklaces hung around the vanity’s frame. They were a sharp contrast to the chipping paint and uneven legs. The mirror itself was a little warped. Saint clipped a third necklace around his neck. “But I was just asking.”

“Why don’t you steal silver?”

“I don’t like silver,” Saint smiled in the mirror, then spun himself around on the stool. “And I look good in gold.”

Sirius smiled, too, taking another sip of the whiskey. “Yes, you do.”

“Well, I’ll keep them on then,” Saint said. “If we’re staying in.”

Sirius snorted. “Why do you steal them if you can’t wear them anywhere?”

“Because,” Saint clasped a fourth. “I look good in gold.”

“Okay, okay,” Sirius laughed. “But we need food.”

Saint raised an eyebrow. “But we have whiskey.”

“I have work in the morning,” Sirius sighed, sitting up. “I can’t go to bed on whiskey.”

Saint looked at him in the mirror again. “Pulled pork from The Lion?”

Sirius nodded slowly, but he was watching as Saint began to take each necklace off. “Do you remember when I came to Grimmauld?”

Saint draped the gold carefully over the mirror. “You mean when you were eleven and scrawny?”

“And you were a dick and scrawny?”

Saint made a tisking sound with his teeth and tongue. “I was never scrawny. But I was a dick.”

“You are a dick,” Sirius laughed. “Sometimes.”

“Why are we reminiscing?”

“I just…” Sirius began. He looked around their room, at the dusk slanting through the cracks in the boards and the summer breeze through the open windows. “Are we going to be doing this when we’re seventy instead of seventeen?”

Saint’s shoulders stiffened. He turned slowly in his chair. His brown eyes were calm and studying.

“Doing what?” Saint asked.

Sirius put the bottle down and sat up, facing him. “Saint.”

“What else do you want to do?” Saint rose, head tilted.

“I think we should leave,” Sirius said, eyes following Saint’s until Saint was standing over him. “You’re in danger here. We both are.”

“The orphanage can’t get me if they can’t catch me,” Saint said. “And your parents don’t look for you.”

“Take your necklace off,” Sirius said.

Saint raised an eyebrow. “Go home.”

“I can’t.”

“Neither can I.”

Sirius shook his head. “We’re—it’s different.”

“Sirius…”

“The only thing stopping us is cash,” Sirius said. “Dorcas can lone something to us—”

“Oh? That’s the only thing stopping us?” Saint said. He dropped on knee on the bed, and then the other, seating himself in Sirius’ lap. “Then tell me something, Black.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows and settled his hands on Saint’s hips. “Anything.”

Saint’s fingers wound themselves through Sirius’ hair, tilting his face up towards him. “What would we know about the rest of the world?”

Sirius leaned up and let Saint kiss him. It was slow and lingering.

“What do you know about anything except what’s right here,” Saint said into their next kiss. “Running around in this tiny little circle of land.”

“Saint…”

Saint pushed Sirius onto his back, pinning his hands above his head.

“I like it here,” Saint said. “We can predict what happens here.”

“And no one can leave?” Sirius said softly.

Saint’s expression flickered. Sirius knew he was prodding gently at a sore spot. They both were. It felt good sometimes, like a bruise or a paper cut. Neither of them wanted to lose anyone else.

Sirius relaxed against the mattress. He looked up at Saint quietly. “I’m not leaving.”

“You just said you should.”

“I said we should.”

Saint narrowed his eyes a little. “We should not talk about this.”

“You never want to talk about it,” Sirius said and closed his eyes when Saint bent to kiss his neck. “Saint, if you do get caught again, you said they don’t let you out. Not even when you age out.”

“Maybe it’s true. Maybe I’m right,” Saint tilted his head and looked back down at Sirius again. “There were kids much older than I was and, well, I haven’t seen them around, have you?”

“Why?” Sirius asked. He sat up, holding Saint closer against him. “Do you know?”

“Maybe it’s all they know. Maybe they don’t want to leave.”

“So, then shouldn’t we—”

“No,” Saint cut him off. “They don’t let you out. Only I can do that. For myself. I want to be free. I do.”

“And are you?” Sirius said softly, pushing Saint’s hair back from his forehead. Saint closed his eyes, leaning into it.

Saint pressed his lips together and kept his eyes closed.

“Saint,” Sirius whispered.

“I don’t want to talk,” Saint whispered back. “I don’t want to.”

“Okay,” Sirius said. “Okay.”

Saint opened his eyes. They flit to Sirius’ mouth, then back to his eyes. “Can we?”

“Of course we can,” Sirius said, dipping his fingers lightly into Saint’s shorts. “We always can.”

Saint nodded softly. “Okay.”

Sirius pulled Saint towards him and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around Saint’s bare back and Saint melted towards him. Their kisses were like they always were, frantic, a little playful. Saint traced Sirius’ lip with his tongue, fingers digging into his hair. Sometimes, this was just how they spoke to each other. Sirius pushed Saint’s thighs so that they straddled him more firmly.

“What do you want to do?” Sirius said, holding him closer.

“You know,” Saint breathed. He dragged his mouth down Sirius’ neck as Sirius pulled him down to the mattress.

Sirius remembered the first time they had done this. He also remembered when it hadn’t been an option, when they’d barely known each other and, besides Saint agreeing that Sirius could have one of Grimmauld’s rooms, hadn’t spoken. It had taken them a few months to so much as eat a meal together.

“I can feel you thinking,” Saint panted out as Sirius kissed his way down his chest. “Stop doing so much of that.”

“Maybe you should do more of it,” Sirius said, scraping his teeth against the muscles around Saint’s hip.

“No, thanks, sweetheart,” Saint sighed out, his head tilted back and his eyes closed.

Sirius couldn’t help but smile a little as he unbuttoned Saint’s shorts. It was such a Saint thing to say that it warmed him, just as the familiar feel of his skin did.

Sirius knew that Saint, for all his acts and plays, felt more than anyone Sirius knew. Saint still grieved for the family that had abandoned him, and sometimes Sirius thought Saint even grieved for the family Sirius had known and lost, just out of proximity to them.

Sirius knew that Saint stole to steal back what had never been his. Sirius knew it didn’t work—and Sirius knew Saint know that, too.

Saint let out a shaky breath when Sirius took him into his mouth. He was filling fast and Sirius relished in it. This…this worked.

“I’d miss you,” Saint panted out. “If you went, I’d miss you.”

Sirius pulled off and sat back on his heels, hand going to rub himself through his shorts before he slipped out of them, tossing them to the floor.

“You seem to have heard something I never said,” Sirius fell back on top of Saint, catching himself at the last minute to hover above him, and pushing their cocks together. “I wouldn’t leave you behind.”

Saint just clutched Sirius closer, his next breath a moan as Sirius rolled his hips, a little sloppily, and slow.

“Stop thinking,” Saint said.

Sirius bent to kiss his neck, sucking blood to the surface of his skin. “You brought it up again.”

It was always the same with Saint. A much needed consistency. Saint’s hips knocked his, they fought each other for the upper hand, usually laughing until the slick slide of their cocks became the only feeling they could think of. Saint never held him as close when he came. He went soft and melted away against the mattress. Saint did, however, chase Sirius’ mouth, knowing that kissing brought Sirius over with him. Sirius pressed his hips down hard against Saint’s oversensitive, spent cock, the way Sirius knew he liked. Saint jolted, teeth biting down onto Sirius’ lip, making Sirius come in thick stripes between them. They dropped beside each other afterwards, shoulders pressed close. It was always the same, but Sirius always felt good after. Safe. Neither of them were leaving, and maybe that was a good thing.

“Fuck, you always make such a mess,” Saint laughed, staring down at his stomach. “At least this is your bed.”

Sirius just closed his eyes. The room smelled of sex now, and of the ocean. He was sweaty and wanted a swim. They had hours and hours until dawn, though. Sometimes the nights felt useless and too long.

“You like it,” Sirius said.

Saint curled onto his side with a sigh and kissed Sirius’ shoulder. “Dinner in an hour.”

~

James looked up from his coke and peanuts the moment Lily and her family entered the Gryffindor dining room.

“She’s here,” he said to Luke.

“Yeah,” Luke drawled, twisting a cherry stem between his fingers. “I can see that, Pots.”

“Shit,” James breathed. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Bet you fifty I can tie this with my tongue.”

James drank the last of his soda, crunching a few ice cubes. “That’s a stupid fucking bet.”

Luke shrugged. “Bet I can.”

“I have to go.”

“Dude,” Luke laughed a little. “She’s gotta have dinner first.”

James stood. “She can have dinner after. She promised we could talk. I need to know.” He looked back at Luke and his blackened eye. “Don’t do anything stupid. Wait for me here.”

Luke rolled his eyes, then looked at the bartender. “Olli, come on, man.” He pushed his own coke forward. “Just a little little bit of rum in this next one.”

Olli shook his head, smiling. “Deveaux. Your mom will kill me.”

“My mom doesn’t give a shit.”

James left the conversation behind, taking a few steps forward.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Evans,” James smiled, hands in his pockets. “Petunia. Lily.”

“James! Hi, sweetheart,” Mrs. Evans smiled. “Are your parents here?”

“Oh,” James looked behind him, then back at her, smiling and pushing his glasses up. “No. Just me.”

“And Luke,” Lily mumbled, eyes going behind him.

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” James sighed, cursing himself. “And Luke.”

“Mom,” Lily said, glancing at Mrs. Evans and the rest of her family. “We’ll be right back, okay? I’ll meet you at the table.”

Mrs. Evans nodded. “Yeah, all right, honey. It’s buffet style tonight, do you want me to make you a plate?”

“No, I’ll make it,” Lily said, and looked at James, gesturing towards the open patio doors. “James.”

“Coming,” James said. “Cool.” He looked at Petunia, who looked skeptical, to Lily’s parents. “Bye. Thank you—or—bye.”

The night air was warm as Lily let him outside and down the stones towards the cupola and the sea. She didn’t look at him as they walked, and James was afraid to speak. He wanted this to go the way she wanted it to, even if he was desperate to know what was in her head. It had been such a good night. Had she really not felt the way he had?

Lily stopped only when the cupola stopped her tracks. The dark waves were gentle tonight.

“Okay,” Lily said. “Go ahead.”

James blinked. “That’s it?”

Lily turned and looked at him expectantly.

“Lils…” James said, then laughed a little, exasperated. “Lils, we had sex. And—I know it wasn’t just sex to you. I know because it wasn’t just sex for me. I…look, it’s fine if you don’t want to date, I’d never make you do anything, but I just…I don’t understand. I’m an all right guy and… and when I asked you, you seemed…”

“It’s not you,” Lily began then groaned, turning back towards the cupola’s railing. “Or—maybe it is. I…James, you…your family…they are this island.”

James stared at her back, perplexed. “What does that mean? Like—their money? What?”

He watched Lily’s shoulders slump. “It means I need to get out of here. This bubble, these people. These divides, these fucking neighborhoods.” She turned, her green eyes beautiful and determined. “It’s like we live in clockwork and I can’t stand it.”

James looked over her face. “What, so I’m all gears and cranks, and that’s it?”

“You’re one gear,” Lily said softly. “You’re part of it all. I know you go to The Hollow and stuff, you hang out with Sirius Black and…”

“You hang out with Dorcas,” James countered.

“That’s not—”

James took a step forward. “So, we both cross boundaries—”

“What boundaries?” Lily said, voice raised. “They don’t exist! That’s the clock part!”

“They exist here,” James said firmly. “And, Lils, whether you like it or not, we’re here right now, and so why not break something? Sirius is nice. He’s troubled, but he’s nice, and I like Sirius. I went to school with him for seven years and now he works for my parents, I’m not going to pretend he’s not there. I want to be his friend. Saint’s a little weird, but he’s fine. Dorcas and Marlene are great together. This is our island, why not do what we want?”

Lily shook her head. “This isn’t our island. This is an island.” She wrapped her hands around her arms in the night breeze. “And it’s a small one, and there’s an entire world out there.”

“Lily—”

She looked away from his face. “And I’m sorry, James, I—you know I like you, but I need to leave when we go to college and I need to leave with a fresh start. No clockwork.”

With that, she brushed by him. James stood there, frozen, listening to her sandals get softer as she walked down the path, back towards the bright lights of Gryffindor Club. James thought of her parents back that way. And then his own parents, no doubt arriving soon. Their beloved club. Their title of one of the oldest names on the island. He didn’t blame Lily for not wanting to carry that with her. Not really.

“No clockwork,” he said softly to himself, and sat down heavily one of the benches.

~

Saint came out of the Potter’s house with a glass of water for both of them with his eyes firmly telling Sirius to keep it cool. Sirius recognized that look from too many almost run-ins with the cops, or marine patrol.

“What?” Sirius said. He downed half of his glass in one go. The sun was high and hot against his bare back. He handed the glass back to Saint and leaned on the long pool cleaner. “De parler.”

“You’ll never guess who just arri-ived,” Saint sang softly. “Tweedle-hot and tweedle-hotter.”

“Who the fuck are they?”

“Black!” James called, jogging down the steps to the flat stones of the pool ground. “You guys don’t mind if we’re out here, do you? We’re gonna practice some shots on the rebounder.”

“We,” Saint muttered, bending to clear some leaves from the filter.

Remus and Luke came out of the house after him, all three in their swim trunks. Luke stared right at Sirius, eyes hard. Remus looked at him more softly.

“It’s your house, Potter,” Sirius said.

James shrugged. “I’m just asking.”

Sirius watched out of the corner of his eye as the three of them walked over to where the bundle of lacrosse sticks lay, along with a bucket of balls. Luke picked up one first, punching out the net of his stick. Sirius noticed that someone had wrapped his knuckles. Sirius’ own were bare and aching a little in the sun, the split on his lip, too. Luke glanced over at them again.

“How’s the face, Black?” Luke said across the pool, and whipped the lacrosse ball forward. It landed squarely in the center of the trampoline material before bouncing back for him to catch again.

Sirius looked at Luke’s black eye. “Fine.”

“What, had worse?” Luke asked.

“Oh-kay, my turn,” James said and nudged Luke out of the way and looked at him and Remus. “Wagers?”

“Thirty for ten out of twenty,” Remus said. “Each.”

Luke turned away from Sirius and Saint and scoffed. “Just thirty?”

Remus smiled, tilting his head. “For now.” He walked over to a speaker and plugged his phone in.

Sirius kept his head down, focusing on the pool and the music as they cleaned. He watched as they hurled the ball in hard arcs every time. They laughed, and argued over who got to choose the next song. Saint and him raked the pool clean.

“I hate this song,” Saint kept mumbling to him. “And this one. And this one.”

“You don’t know this song,” Sirius murmured back.

“It’s a new hate.”

“I need more water,” Sirius sighed, and handed the pole to Saint before turning towards the house.

“Wow,” he heard Saint call to the boys from behind him, and closed his eyes. “You guys are like hamsters on a wheel with that thing. Love this song, too.”

“Well, thank you, Saint,” James laughed. “That’s nice of you.”

The shade of the house was a relief and Sirius took a moment in the cool kitchen to take a breath. He hated this. He hated the way those guys made him feel. He hated himself for feeling the gnawing self-consciousness at all. He had a job to do. That was all. It didn’t matter that they didn’t, that they were out there tossing a ball and catching it again all day.

Sirius shook his head to himself and went to the cupboard, grabbing a glass and holding it against the water filter on the refrigerator.

He was watching it slowly fill up when a throat cleared from behind him. He looked up to see Remus standing there.

“Hi,” Remus said. He was breathing hard from their workout. He was eyeing Sirius carefully.

“We’re allowed to come in here for water,” Sirius said, and turned back to his almost filled glass. “If that’s what you’re wondering.”

“What? Oh—no, no, I wasn’t.”

Sirius took his glass away and stepped to the side. “It’s all yours.”

Remus was still a little opened mouthed, and he took his own glass to fill.

Sirius didn’t really want to leave the shade of the kitchen, and it seemed neither did Remus. They stood there, on opposite sides of the counter, drinking their water.

The Wolfsbane, Sirius’ mind was chanting. Ask.

“I wasn’t,” Remus said again. He glanced up at Sirius and took another drink.

Sirius nodded. He didn’t know whether to believe him or not.

“Lupin,” came Luke’s voice from outside. “Jesus fuck, hurry, it’s your shot and I’m about to take back my money.”

Remus set down his drained glass in the sink. “See you out there, Sirius.”

Sirius watched him go. The memory was back.

Are you okay? Sirius, right?

The sun felt good against the chill that the words brought.

“What was that?” Saint whispered to him.

Sirius shook his head. “What was what?”

“Are you guys almost done?” Luke said, crossing his arms over his chest. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat. “I sort of want to take a swim.”

“Well, what do you know,” Saint said. “There’s an entire ocean out there, Deveaux, and it’s all for you.”

Sirius, not wanting to fight again but recognizing it in Luke, said, “I clean this pool every other day. You can swim while we do it if you want.”

James thwacked Luke hard on the back of the head before cannonballing into the opposite side of the pool. He surfaced again to place his glasses on the side, then pushed off, floating on his back. Luke glared at Saint for another moment before sitting on the side and putting his feet in.

“Come on, Devs,” Remus said, and jumped in after James. He surfaced and floated over to wrap his hands around Luke’s ankles, tugging a little. “I still remember when your mom couldn’t get you out of the water for cake at my sixth birthday party. You know you want to.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed, but then he was smiling, laughing a little. He swatted Remus’ hand and then dove into the water after him.

“Wow, it emotes,” Sirius said softly to Saint.

“Potentially,” Saint countered. “Okay, we’re done.”

They listened to the boys laugh as they put their equipment back into the pool house.

“Hey,” James said, flicking his wet hair out of his eyes. “You guys can come in if you want. That’s hot work.”

“We’re headed to Shack Beach with our boards,” Sirius said, flashing an awkward smile. “But thanks.”

“You surf?” Remus asked.

“No, Lupin,” Saint’s grin was sharper. “We just clean pools.”

Remus shut his mouth. Sirius shoved Saint.

“Yeah, we do,” Sirius said, looking at Remus. “Every morning.”

“Hey, you know what, Lupin,” Saint pointed a finger at him. “We see your boat sometimes—”

“We’ll see you guys later,” Sirius said firmly, giving Saint another push.

“Well,” Saint said over his shoulder. “Sirius sees your boat.”

“Oh,” Remus said, puzzled sounding. “I mean, yeah, I go out in the morning.”

Sirius turned. He couldn’t help it. “You go out?”

Remus nodded, treading water. “Yeah.”

Saint whistled. “Mystery solved.”

Sirius opened and closed his mouth twice before nodding. “Okay. See you guys later.”

He heard Luke snort as they walked away. “That was weird.”

It was Remus.

They pushed through the Potter’s house and back to the driveway where Saint’s Jeep was waiting.

It was Remus out there.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Sirius groaned as they climbed onto the hot leather seats. “Saint, Jesus.”

“Mary,” Saint started the engine. “Joseph. Oh, I thought we were naming—”

“Don’t talk to me.”

“At least now you know. You can lust after a person, instead of a boat.”

“Drive.”

“It could be worse, you could be lusting after Lupin’s father.”

“Drive.”

~

“Tremblay, you’re back. I was wondering when we’d see you again.”

Logan looked down from the shiny crystal chandelier he was staring at, thinking about Finn. He wouldn’t need Felix today. He’d get to the orphanage before two, when they were let out into the courtyard for an hour.

His eyes found Alecto, who was smiling at him, if it could be called that. Every time his name came out of Alecto’s mouth, part of Logan wished that he was like some of the others that had been in the orphanage, like Finn—meaning without one.

“I’m back,” Logan said, standing. “Now, let’s get this over with.”

Alecto laughed. “Oh. He’s confident now.” She jogged down the rest of the grand staircase. “You weren’t like that a month ago.”

Logan slung his backpack off of his back and took out the cash he’d bundled. “Here.”

Alecto held out her palm for it, and Logan sighed but placed it there. She thumbed through the bills.

“This is all of it?” Alecto asked.

“Yes.”

Alecto reached out and gripped Logan’s chin, making him stare at her.

“Are you lying?” she said.

“You can count it,” Logan bit back, and shoved her away. He worked his jaw, sore from her grip.

She nodded, smiling. “All right, all right.”

The door to the left, framed in gold, opened as it always did. Logan caught Snape’s eye for a moment as he handed the bags of pink powder, rubber-banded together. Alecto took it from him, and Snape stepped back. A good soldier, Logan thought.

Alecto tossed it to Logan, who caught it against his chest.

“Sell it all,” Alecto said, watching Logan slip it into his pack. “Or don’t come back.”

“Fine,” Logan turned towards the door.

“I mean it,” Alecto said. “You think we don’t know what you’re doing in your free time?”

Logan froze. He felt his heart speed up, felt Alecto just behind him.

“How much do you think you owe us by now, Tremblay? With all the…free samples you’ve taken. I’m sure it was suppose to be the other way around, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that why you ended up here?”

Logan kept his eyes down.

“Or,” Alecto laughed. “I guess the real question is how badly you want to see that boy of yours again? And I mean really see him.”

“Don’t talk about him,” Logan grit out.

“Then remember that our deal doesn’t include your little freebies,” Alecto growled. “Now get out.”

Logan didn’t look back as he pushed out the door.

He waited until he was well out of sight of the Carrows’ manor before stopping in a narrow alley between houses. He dug his fingers into his hair and closed his eyes.

“Fuck,” he gasped aloud. His throat felt tight. Everything felt heavy. Logan scrubbed his fingers over his face before looking at his watch. It was 1:56. He needed to get to the orphanage.

Sometimes this island felt like a jungle, and sometimes it reminded Logan of the halls in Saint Clair. Salazar’s alleys were those hallways, only caked with grime. Saint Clair was the jungle in a rare clearing. Or maybe a clearing in a jungle. It made no sense, but there it was.

Logan looked from his crouch in the hedges of a nearby house as the door of the courtyard opened. Two o’clock on the nose. Two nuns came out, and then the first kid. They let the little ones out before the others, always. Logan watched the children grow taller, accompanied by some of the wards—not part of the Church, but older kids who were still there. Logan still didn’t know why. No one had ever said.

And then there he was.

“Finn,” Logan breathed, as if Finn could hear him. Even if he couldn’t hear him, Logan knew Finn would look for him. Already, Logan could see Finn glancing around outside the fence. He was holding a book. One of his tricks, Logan had learned. Logan had been too scared to come even close to the orphanage for the first week and a half, but then he had discovered that he could watch.

And then he had discovered Felix. Two Finns, one far, and one farther.

Finally, Finn found him.

“Finn,” Logan said again aloud. “Finn, Finn…”

Finn smiled, just a little, not too noticeable. He took his book and sat down against one of the benches. Opening it between two fingers, he held it on his lap, bowing his head a little to feign reading. Instead, he stared at Logan.

Logan's crouch dropped to his knees heavily. “Finn.”

Even from a distance, Logan could see Finn’s mouth move around silent words.

Hi, baby.

And then Finn’s eyes turned sad. He jerked his chin forward a little.

Go, he mouthed. Go.

“I miss you,” Logan said aloud. “I’ll get you out.”

Finn shook his head. Logan… he trailed off.

“I’m going to get you out,” Logan said, and turned before he had to watch Finn disappear inside again.