#they’d be that one couple that’s always like. oh you invited me to this party 😊 sure i’ll go lemme ask my bf about it first though 🤭

[xxcyberghostxx]

fabian and riz getting together would be insane. they’d invent levels of codependency previously unheard of.

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.

Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), fem!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'

Word Count: 5K

part 2

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ .

You hate the way he dresses.

You hate his stupid hair.

You hate the pet names he calls you.

You hate his voice.

You hate his hazel eyes.

You hate his smile.

You hate Logan Howlett.

It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.

That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.

“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.

“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”

“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.

“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”

Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”

“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.

Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.

“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”

“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”

He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.

“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”

“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.

“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”

“You fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off.”

“No, you.”

“I said it first!”

“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”

“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.

“What are our first names, then?”

“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”

“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 

“Does that mean I get to stab you?”

“You’d miss.”

Charles had his head in his hands.

“How about Jack and Jill?”

You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.

“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.

“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”

You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.

“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 

“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”

Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”

—----------------

Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ���you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?

Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 

You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 

He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 

“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”

He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.

You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.

“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”

“Good luck.”

“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”

“Bite Me.”

He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”

You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”

“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”

“It is.”

“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”

You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”

“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”

Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.

It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.

“You ready, Jack?” you teased.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”

He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 

The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.

“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.

“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”

Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.

“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”

Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 

She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 

“Cage fighter.”

Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.

“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.

‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”

You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.

“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.

You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.

You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’

You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.

“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”

You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.

His eyes went to yours immediately.  He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.

“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”

“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”

A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 

“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”

Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.

“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “

“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”

That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.

“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 

You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 

“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.

“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.

“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”

“Whatever.”

That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.

Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 

You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.

Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.

“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.

“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”

His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.

“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”

He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.

A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.

A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.

“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”

He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 

“So, did you come alone?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.

“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”

You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.

“mhm.”

It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 

“Hey, bub.”

The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.

“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”

His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 

“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.

“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”

He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.

You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.

“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.

“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”

You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.

“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”

“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”

“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”

“Bedroom or office, maybe.”

“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.

“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 

“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”

He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.

You sighed, knowing what that meant.

“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”

You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.

“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”

Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 

Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.

“Yeah? Is it locked?”

You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.

“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”

“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”

You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.

Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.

“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.

“Easiest way to do it.”

He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.

“What if it falls out?” you asked.

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”

You rolled your eyes and looked him over.

“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”

“Fine.”

He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.

“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”

You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.

“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”

“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”

She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.

“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“Is that so bad?”

You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”

Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”

You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.

“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”

You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.

“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.

“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.

“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.

“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.

“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 

“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”

“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”

You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 

“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 

It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 

Logan kissed you.

His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.

The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 

“What was what?”

He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.

“What if I wanted to?”

You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.

“What?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”

You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?

“Logan, I - “

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”

His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.

“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.

“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”

When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.

“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.

He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”

“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.

You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”

The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.

“Hey, c’mere for a second.”

You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.

“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”

You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 

“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 

You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.

You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.

You couldn’t hate his kind smile.

You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.

You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 

So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.

“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.

“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”

He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.

“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”

He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”

You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 

“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.

‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”

As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.

“You owe me twenty bucks.”

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)

Edit: here is the link to part 2!

[nametakensff]

That prompt list you just posted awakened something in me hahah Wb “Do you have a cat?” and "Humiliated" for Eddie? 👀

Yaayy thank you for the prompts! 💕

I cooked up 1.7k of E/ddie having a terribly timed allergy attack whilst dealing weed to a regular client who, unbeknownst to him, has a cat he is horribly allergic to 🐱

Shockingly I have not projected the fetish onto either character in this fic?? It's fun to mix things up from time to time, I guess!

~~~~~

Content:

M sneezes, mentions of M/F, F OC for sake of plot, cat allergy sneezes, spray, mess, handkerchiefs, nose rubbing, nose blows, embarrassment, mild comfort + caretaking, build-ups, rapid sneezes, talking through sneezing

CW: mentions of drug and alcohol consumption (It should go without saying but both characters are 18+)

SFW but minors please dni!!

Eddie brought his fist down on Laura Paulson’s front door, trying not to get irritated at the fact he had been pounding on it for at least three minutes already. The blaring music inside masked the sound of his efforts and that of the doorbell. He pointedly ignored the sneers of the three guys skulking in the front yard, who clearly knew some way of getting in and out the building but had no intention of filling him in, and he had no intention of asking. This was so fucking dumb. He just wanted to make some sales and fuck off.

Laura was okay. She never asked for freebies, always paid what he asked and wasn’t especially shitty to him. They’d made out a couple of times in his van, even, when she found out her stupid jock boyfriend was going with other girls behind her back. He didn’t much like being used on the low, but it was also somewhat thrilling sticking his tongue in a cheerleader’s mouth and having her pull his hair in response.

She’d even mentioned that he should stay and hang out at the party, if he wanted to, but he could tell she was only inviting him because she seemed to think she had to. Like she felt bad about being pleasant to him when they were alone, and an ice queen when they weren’t. He turned her down for both their sakes, trying not to look offended when she failed to mask her relief.

He struck the door again, even more forcibly this time, and finally, finally it was opening. Laura smiled at him, clearly several drinks deep. He raised the lunchbox in his left hand by way of greeting, offering a half-smile as she moved to one side and let him in. He’d never been inside her house before, and it was as swanky as he’d pictured it would be.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s loud in here.” She sing-songed over the racket, sounding friendly but not sorry in the least.

“No biggie.” He smiled at her, feeling better in the presence of her admittedly contagious happiness, substance-related or otherwise. He’d been expecting a much colder reception. “So, do you wanna…?”

“Oh, yeah, this way!”

Eddie followed her up the stairs, realising she must be even tipsier than he thought if she would openly lead him up to her room whilst several curious onlookers watched them do so. He checked his wristwatch; only 19:00. Girl meant business when she partied, he guessed.

Her room was unextraordinary. Girly, neat, plastered in photos of her and her friends, and several more of her and her meathead boyfriend. He hoped said boyfriend knew where his girlfriend was and wouldn’t suddenly barge into the room, wasted and charged up by some stupid whispering about the pair of them sneaking off together.

“Sit, sit!” Laura said, inviting him to perch next to her on the edge of her baby blue bedsheets whilst she rummaged through her purse.

“You good for your usual?” Eddie said, opening his box and taking out the little baggie he’d set aside for her. He sniffled, briefly pressing his wrist to his nose against a sudden errant tickle.

“Uh-huh.” Laura replied, seeming distracted. “Shoot,” she muttered after a second, getting up a little too fast and staggering. Eddie reached out to balance her with one hand on her waist.

“You okay?” He asked, then winced at how stuffy his voice suddenly sounded. His nose still tickled and his eyes were starting to feel suspiciously itchy. Fuck. He was probably having some kind of reaction to her perfume or some shit, which was weird because hers had never bothered him before, but not unheard of. When she righted herself and moved to her chest of drawers he indulged in a violent nose rub, mashing his nose around with the palm of an open hand, desperate to quash the tickle before it blossomed into a sneeze. He hoped she couldn’t hear the wet clicking sounds the motion induced, and grimaced in dismay when it seemed only to urge the tickle along.

“I know I have more cash in here somewhere…sorry, one sec…”

“All good.” He said, even though it was not all good, it was bad, and he’d had enough allergy attacks in his life – hell, this past week - to know he was about to sneeze his fucking head off. He sat rigid, pressing a ringed finger underneath his twitching nostrils, pink and damp from the prior manhandling, and pushed hard against his philtrum. It did very little at all, and he bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to stave off the starts of an embarrassingly hitchy build-up.

He glanced at her back as she dug through the drawer, silently pleading with her to hurry up, when his eyes drifted to the lint roller on top of the chest. He squinted at it, realising it was covered in…oh, double fuck.

“L-Laura?” He asked, lowering his hand and scrambling through his pockets for his bandana. He was going to sneeze no matter what at this point, and he at least wanted to do so not all over her pristine upholstery.

“Hmm?”

“Do you hh’have a hh-!!...cat?”

“Yeah, Mittens! She’s probably sleeping under the bed right now, ‘cuz there’re so many people around. Ooh, okay, nice, found a twenty!”

She spun round, grinning in triumph, only for her face to fall in confusion at the sight of him. He averted his eyes, even as they started to slam shut, burying his face in the bandana he had been raising and continued to allow his breath to hitch – audibly, now that the gig was up and she could not only see him, but was actively watching him build up to a fit of tickly allergic sneezes. He felt his face flushing with heat, absolutely humiliated, but there was nothing he could do. He gasped pathetically, chest expanding under his Metallica t-shirt as the tickle finally crested.

“Eddie?”

He managed to shake his head, just once, before he was pitching forward into the bandana, clutched to his face with both hands as the sneeze burst out of him with so much force it brought tears to his eyes.

“EhhHGK’TSCHSS’IEWww!! Shit, sorry, I’m-!! Ihkg’tchieww!! AhhGK’TISSHH’IEwww!! Ohh…”

He felt the bed dip as Laura sat down beside him, blushing even harder as she placed a tentative hand on his back, expanding and contracting erratically under his leather jacket as he hitched his way towards the rest of his fit.

“Hh-Hh! Ehh-! HAH’GKkt!! EHh’NGXt’TSHh-NGXT’tshiew!! HdDT’TSCHH’U! ‘DDZZSh’iewww!!...Shit, I’m…I’m allergiii’CKK’SHIEeww!! Allergic-to-cats-!”

“Fuck.” He heard Laura mutter, sounding genuinely concerned, which heartened him and yet paradoxically made him feel terrible. The whole thing was mortifying, and the more he sneezed, the more the tickle seemed to tease.

To make matters worse, Mittens, the very source of his misery, seemingly roused by the cacophony above her sleeping space, had come to investigate. Through bleary eyes he peered at her in resignation, preparing to sneeze again. She tilted her fluffy, tortoiseshell head at him, mewed once, and then, to his horror, started to rub herself affectionately all over the shins of his jeans.

“Mittens, no!” Laura reached for her in an instant, snatching her away as she meowed her displeasure, but the damage had been done.

“HhHH’GCKT’TShhieww!! ESHH’IEWww!! EHh’NGXtt’TSCHh!! EhHH’TSCCH-TSSHH’IEww!! h’Ohh GoddD’TSXCHHhh!! IGSHH’Uu-IGKSHHhh!!”

Eddie could barely breathe between each explosion, eyes streaming as he sprayed into the bandana over and over, clutched between both steepled hands. The last few left mess bursting out into the cloth and dripping down over his lips, mercifully hidden from view. He sniffled reflexively, instantly regretting it as the tickle peaked with such intensity the resulting gasp made his chest squeak.

“EIISSHHHhh!! HaH’GKkt-GXK’TShhu-GSHHHh!! Hh’HH!! HAH’ENGXTt’TSSsHIEww!! AESHH’IEww!! iihHH’KhG’TSSHHUuu!!”

He trembled as they overpowered him, cruel and unrelenting, one leg jerking up as his body almost curled in on itself from the force before stamping back on the ground. He made the mistake of using a lull in sneezes to fold his bandana over and look for a clean spot, hands shaking, totally unprepared for when the tickle ground once more against his sinuses.

“’YYISCHHH’IEWW!!” He sneezed violently, dramatically, and worst of all, totally uncovered. His eyes shot open in time to see the spray dissipating in a glittering cloud of droplets, illuminated by a nearby lamp. He clapped the bandana back to his face, cheeks burning, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

“Fuck, I am so sorry.” He mumbled at exactly the same time Laura offered an audibly concerned “God bless you!”

He murmured a thanks before biting the bullet and indulging in a disgustingly wet nose blow. Laura gently patted his back, manicured, callous-free hand on his scuffed-up leather, and the sudden rush of emotions – humiliation, confusion, affection, irritation – had him lurching to his feet, even as his breath started to hitch, fucking again.

“Are you okay?” Laura asked, her hazy brown eyes looking up at him with far more kindness than Eddie could stand to face in the current moment.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, but…I’m sorry, I hafta-! GXXT’SHIEWWww!! Ah, fuck, shit, I-need-to-! IGSHHHH-! Ahh, Get out of here.”

“O-okay.” He felt her slip the money into his pocket. Pressing the sopping bandana firmly to his face, he began to reach for his lunchbox, which she handed to him.  “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s n-not your-! Not-your-f’hhault’TTSZZSH’IIeww!! Fuck!! Not your fauld’t.” He mustered up a reassuring smile, then remembered his face was obscured anyway.

“Still, I’m. I’m sorry. See you round?” She offered.

“Sure.” He said, knowing damn well the next time they bumped into each other and he didn’t have drugs on his person she would go right back to pretending he didn’t exist.

He left her there, standing awkwardly in the middle of her room, and bolted his way down the stairs, trying not to fall to his death as a series of smaller sneezes teased their way out of him half-way.

“Huh’GXTCH’zieww!! HDD’TZSCch’u! hh-HDT-!! ‘TISHH’Ieww!!”

He sneezed again as he strode past the three idiots still lurking outside, the dampness of the cloth beginning to transfer to his palm. They made sounds of disgust and derision, painfully predictable in their apery, and he fought the urge to throw the snotty rag in their direction before deciding in his current state it wasn’t worth the potential black eye and/or broken arm. He slammed his van door shut and started the ignition, snuffling and scrubbing at his tickly nostrils, which were already flaring in preparation for a repeat performance. He prayed he wouldn’t sneeze himself to an early grave on the road before he could get home and sneeze his throat raw in the shower.

[meowmeow-motherfucker]

Covenant- Chapter 14

Summary: With the five year anniversary of the attack on New York approaching, Odin and Fury come to the agreement that an arranged marriage between Asgard and Earth would show good faith toward all future interactions. When Odin refuses Jane’s candidacy, Agent Coulson is tasked with finding a suitable wife for the prince of Asgard.

Pairing: Loki x OFC Claire Fisher

Word count: 10k (prepare drinks and snackies as always)

Chapter warnings: idiots in love being idiots, violence, discussion of women being abused and treated like property, things in Asgard are not what they seem

Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtiggerv2 @icytrickster17 @mysteriouslyfriedjellyfish @lokislilkitten @justjoanne242 @amlocked @ddmariegirl @mags-04-blog @sharris8 @meepycheep @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @the-fantasy-loving-angel @jaidenhawke @smolvenger @ladymischief11 @huntress-artemiss

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Thanks for coming along on this journey with me! Buckle up gang :D

Read it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51197938/chapters/129363727

Loki stared at the note he'd received with disdain.

Come over? I need to talk to you.

His wife was persistent, he would grant her that. She’d sent him yet another missive, this one more desperate than the last. In the two weeks since they’d returned from the coast he’d seen neither hide nor tail of his wife, and instead of knowing a moment of peace like he’d hoped, he’d been kept up to date on her goings-on by his meddling mother. Not that Claire needed the help; she’d found a way to occupy his mind on her own. He glanced down at the note once more.

What drivel. Loki tossed the note into the fire and watched the flames turn her words to ash.

“Shall I tell the princess not to expect you, Your Majesty?” Astrid asked from the doorway.

“If it pleases you.” Loki replied, turning back to his work. He had a stack of reports to sift through before the next council meeting in two days and he did not have the time to coddle annoying Midgardians.

“I shall inform her on my way to collect your supper,” Astrid replied, curtsying before she left the room and made her way across the palace. “A message for Her Majesty.” She announced at the door. Before Gunnar could so much as turn to knock, Claire ripped the door open eagerly.

“I heard footsteps and-” her face fell as she realized it was Astrid at her door. “He's not coming, is he?”

“I'm afraid not, Your Majesty.” Astrid said apologetically. Claire swallowed, her eyes downcast.

“Oh. Okay. Cool. Thanks Astrid,” She said dejectedly. “Gunnar, will you send for Ragna, please?”

“Right away, Your Majesty.”

Ragna arrived less than ten minutes later to find the princess pacing angrily in front of the fireplace.

“Fucking asshole-too good to even tell me to fuck off himself-I’ll show him!” she muttered as she turned, her stormy expression brightening as she noticed Ragna. “Ragna! Hi!”

“You asked for me, Your Majesty?”

“Yes! I’ve had an idea- I wanna have a party.”

“A party?”

“Yeah! Nothing fancy, just a couple friends, lots of snacks and drinks, games...you know, fun.”

“Would this be related to His Majesty the prince rebuffing your invitation?” Claire burst out laughing, the joy a welcome change from her crushing loneliness.

“Way to read me for filth, Ragna, jesus.” she chortled. Ragna’s face transformed into a mask of horror, her eyes welling with fearful tears as her eyes cast about for a lifeline.

“Oh no-I didn’t- you’re not filth, Your Majesty I would never-!”

“Ragna, it’s okay,” Claire soothed her. “I promise. You’re right. But let’s not think about that asshat-” Ragna whimpered as she dropped her gaze to the floor. “What do you do for fun here? Anything, anything!”

“Me?”

“Yeah! Sky’s the limit.”

“I...well- I like to dance.”

“Excellent!” Claire cried excitedly. “How about I teach you some Midgardian dancing?”

“I am invited?” Ragna asked in surprise.

“Of course; you’re my closest friend in this place.” Claire laughed. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Well…” Ragna worried her lower lip between her teeth before a sheepish smile stole across her delicate features. “If you insist.”

~~~~

In Loki’s office, silence reigned apart from the scratching of Loki’s quill. Intently focused, Loki wrote diligently until the sound of the heavy doors to his chambers opening announced Astrid’s return. A few moments later, her footsteps arrived in the doorway to his office.

“Supper is on the table, Your Majesty.” she announced, curtsying when he glanced up at her.

“Thank you,” Loki murmured as he finished writing his sentence. “Something else you’d like to say?”

“Just that Her Majesty seemed rather disappointed,” Astrid replied, eyes darting up to meet Loki’s. “Perhaps His Majesty was too hasty in his decision?”

“No,” Loki shook his head. “She is playing a game, nothing more.”

“As His Majesty wishes,” Astrid deflected, dropping her gaze to the floor. She looked up at Loki sharply with a short huff. “You didn’t see her face. Her disappointment was genuine.”

“Her Majesty is a self-described excellent actress; of course it seemed genuine,” Loki said dismissively. He strode past Astrid, leaving the office in favor of sitting to eat his supper. “You may go.”

“I suppose even princes can be wrong,” Astrid curtsied, ignoring Loki’s icy glare as she walked toward the door. “Good night, Your Majesty.” Loki huffed as the door closed behind her, the vein in his temple pulsing as he flexed his jaw angrily.

~~~~

Claire glanced around the room with satisfaction, a feeling resembling happiness welling in her chest. She’d had an extra lounge brought in for additional seating, and plush cushions to allow for more seating around the room if desired. The low table in the middle of the room was adorned with a small selection of games and Claire’s portable speaker- ready to be pushed to the side to create an intimate dance floor when they were ready. The desk, freshly burdened with an array of delicious looking snacks, gleamed in the candlelight from the tall candlesticks standing sentry behind the heaping platters of food. A sweating pitcher of delicate glass stood alone on the desk corner, the sweet red wine inside coloring the translucent glass a ruddy brown. Freshly cut flowers dotted the room with color, their sweet scent filling the air.

It was nowhere near what Claire would have done back home, but it was nice. She wasn’t sure how many ladies were going to show up, but she was determined to enjoy tonight regardless. She looked down, hands smoothing her soft cotton tee. The shirt was a favorite, the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo emblazoned on the chest long since faded and balding in patches. A black halter top sat snug against her skin underneath, tucked inside a pair of black leggings.

So definitely not princess levels of sophistication, but it was comfortable and something she would wear to a party back home. Claire wanted to feel normal tonight, and anyone who took issue with it could kick rocks.

Gunnar’s soft knock announced the first guests arrival, the golden doors swinging inward to let whoever it was inside.

To Claire’s surprise, it was all of her ladies. They’d changed their clothes- their servants uniforms long gone and replaced with comfortable looking tunics and loose bottoms resembling yoga pants. All seemed apprehensive, uncomfortable outside of their uniforms perhaps, but stepped inside when Claire welcomed them.

“Please, help yourself to snacks and wine,” Claire said, taking the time to greet each woman personally as they passed. “I know tonight is a little different than what we’ve been doing, but I really do hope you all enjoy yourselves and that we can have a good time together.”

“It looks lovely, Your Majesty,” Kari praised, squeezing Claire’s hand when the princess clasped them together. “Whoever helped you did a lovely job.”

“Oh I did it,” Claire said. “The spare lounge and cushions were delivered, as were the flowers and the snacks, but I arranged it,” she explained. “It’s not quite like home, but it’s nice.”

“I’m most excited for my first Midgardian style party.” Kari said eagerly before moving on to the snacks. Another knock on the door announced another wave of guests, and Claire was excited to see another cluster of serving women. She welcomed them all and urged them to help themselves to snacks. The women seemed somewhat hesitant, but fell into rank behind Claire’s ladies at the snack table. Gunnar knocked yet again, and Clairelooked over to see far more of the ladies of the court than expected standing at the threshold.

“Ladies! Welcome!” she crowed, a genuine smile lighting up her face as they crossed the threshold. “I wasn’t expecting so many of you!” The serving ladies at the table had all paused, their training forcing them to abstain from selecting snacks before the noblewomen.

“One does not simply ignore an invitation to a Midgardian style party,” one lady piped up, stepping through the group eagerly. Claire did not recognize her right away- she’d not seen many women with red hair in Asgard. “I deeply appreciate the invitation, Your Majesty. One doesn’t often get party invitations from a stranger. I am Lady Ingrid, from the northern province.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Claire stuck out her hand on instinct, smiling when Lady Ingrid shook her hand. She was dressed in a deep blue dress, not overtly fancy, but classy and understated. Her deep red hair was pinned in plaits at the back of her head, but otherwise floated loosely about in a cascade of fire. “I was right then; we haven’t met before.”

“Not until this moment,” Lady Ingrid laughed warmly. “My husband, Lord Bjorn, and I arrived just earlier today to announce the impending arrival of our firstborn.” Claire’s eyes were drawn to the small but noticeable bump on Ingrid’s lower belly.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you!” Ingrid beamed. “We are most excited. My husband wants a boy, of course, but I am so hoping for a little girl,” she swooned, her hair floating gracefully around her shoulders. “I am also most excited for tonight’s party, and a chance to become friends with Asgard’s first princess in an age.”

“Oh, please,” Claire cringed. “No titles tonight- just fun. I desperately need friends,” she stage whispered to Ingrid, who smiled brightly. Ingrid squeezed her hands, and left to join the other ladies at the snack table so she could greet the other ladies. Claire overheard her encouraging them to grab what they wanted- they were there first, after all. Claire turned to face the waiting highborn ladies, clapping her hands together. “That applies to everyone. There are no ranks or titles tonight, simply a group of women enjoying good food and good conversation. In this room, we are all equals and we will treat each other as such. If this bothers anyone, you are free to leave.”

Claire wasn’t sure if it was curiosity, or actual acceptance of what she offered, but no one left. The highborn ladies greeted her one by one, thankfully reminding Claire of their names. The seats on the lounges began to fill up, and cushions were put on the floor to give more seating. It was kind of amusing to see the highborn ladies sitting on cushions on the floor while serving ladies sat on the lounges, but Claire kept that to herself. Grabbing her own plate of snacks and a goblet of wine, Claire found a perch on a comfy cushion on the floor by the games.

“So what does one do at a Midgardian party?” Lady Ingrid asked, breaking the ice.

“I have an assortment of games we can play as a group. This one asks a question and everyone answers. I thought we could start with this one, and get familiar with each other. I have other games that smaller groups can play too.”

“Yes! Ask away!” Kari said eagerly, practically bouncing in her seat. Ragna cast her a dubious glance, her more reserved nature making her feel embarrassed to be near the center of attention. Claire opened the small box and flipped over the first card inside.

“Who is your celebrity crush?” she asked the group.

“PRINCE THOR!” Kari shouted, her eager response earning a chorus of shrieking laughter. More names were called, names that Claire didn’t recognize. Someone shouted the Gothi, which made Claire chortle to think about the Asgardian flavor of a priest kink.

“I think Hogun is very handsome.” Lady Agatha announced demurely. She was seated very primly, thin fingers holding her goblet delicately. Her blonde hair shone in the candlelight, giving her an ethereal glow.

“I think so too.” Claire agreed. “Especially when he puts his hair up in a bun-” she sighed wistfully. “He’s adorable.”

“Your Majesty-” Ingrid clucked from Claire’s left, shooting her playful side eye as she sipped from her goblet. “Lusting after a man who is not your husband?” she teased.

“Oh please, like I’m the only woman who’s ever done that,” Claire chortled. “I’m not saying I want to sleep with him, I just think he’s easy on the eyes. Agatha, want me to introduce you?” she offered the blonde, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. Agatha’s cheeks blazed pink with embarrassment as she shook her head.

“At least Hogun has a sense of honor, and dignity,” Holga offered from her seat. “Unlike a certain member of the warriors three.” she mumbled into her goblet.

“Oh Norns above, yes,” clucked an older serving woman. “That Fandral has not a lick of decency- he spends far too much time thinking with the head below his belt if you know what I mean.”

“Which by all accounts is not that impressive.” Ragna offered scathingly.

“It isn’t.” Kari confirmed quietly.

“Neither are!” the women erupted into laughter once more at Fandral’s expense.

“I feel pity for whoever’s had the misfortune of being under that lout,” the older serving woman sighed. “Prince Loki however��” she grinned at Claire conspiratorily. “Stories abound about that one.”

“Oh no,” Claire shook her head, already sensing where the conversation was headed. “No no no, I am not discussing-”

“Oooh, but whatever happened?!” Agatha asked. “You were both so enamored with each other!”

“Like smitten younglings!” Ingrid cackled beside Claire, giggling like an unrepentant toddler when Claire glared at her.

“How would you even know?!” Claire squawked.

“Palace gossip, of course,” Ingrid winked. “Sooo...what happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Claire insisted. “I mean yes, things used to be different, and now they are the way they are now,” she said somberly, shaking her head to clear her darkening thoughts. “Anyway, who’s ready for some music?” An excited air filled the room as Claire turned on her portable speaker. A chorus of eager chatter was drowned out by the table scraping as it was moved aside to clear space for the women to dance.

~~~~

Loki stabbed at his meal with defeat. The half-eaten venison inched across the charger, metal tines squeaking. The offensive sound made Loki grumble with anger, discontent bubbling in his belly the longer he sulked. Astrid’s words ate at him, turning his voracious appetite into acid.

Was he being too harsh?

Perhaps Astrid was right. He should at least check on his wife. Chair scraping against the floor, Loki abandoned his dinner and made his way across the palace.

Instead of a morose wife, Loki turned down her hallway to hear the echoes of music and merrymaking. The tune was an unfamiliar one, with a low beat and frenetic pace.

As he came to a stop outside the door, he heard the unmistakable sound of his wife laughing.

“Who needs husbands?!” she shouted gleefully, a cacophony of feminine laughter joining hers.

Disappointed, indeed.

“Shall I announce you, Your Majesty?” Gunnar asked tentatively.

“Absolutely not. I’ve heard enough.” Loki made a swift departure, his stomach sinking with each step he took.

~~~~

The party finally died down well past the midnight hour. The snacks were all eaten, the drinks all consumed. The women had danced until their feet ached, and laughed until their faces hurt. It was a very welcome change, in Claire’s opinion, as her herd of new friends said their goodbyes. As she waved the last guests off, Claire breathed a sigh of relief as Gunnar closed the door. Only she and Ragna remained, and Claire was ready to collapse.

“Is there anything else I can assist you with, Your Highness?” Ragna asked politely. Claire looked up to see the servant standing by the door, waiting to be dismissed. Though she did her best to appear calm, Claire could see that something was bothering her. Ragna was acting strange tonight, and Claire could tell she was unsettled about something. It was later than Claire would usually dismiss her, maybe that was it? Claire had had the feeling in the weeks since Kari’s murder, if she was honest. Whatever it was, Claire hoped Ragna took her up on her offer.

“Um…” Claire looked about the room, trying to think if she needed anything else. She had the feeling that Ragna didn’t really want to leave, but could think of nothing to ask for. Ragna had already cleaned her chambers top to bottom so well that they were practically sparkling. “I think I’m all settled for the evening, Ragna. Thank you.”

“As you wish, ma’am.” Ragna curtsied, obediently turning to leave her chambers even though she felt numb inside.

“Actually- Ragna?” Claire called after the woman.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Would you like to stay for a bit?” Claire asked. “Maybe hang out?”

“Hang out?” Ragna gave a soft laugh of disbelief, blocking the doorway as she stared at Claire in open confusion.

“You work really hard and I thought you might like to stick around and enjoy yourself for a little while.” Claire had been trying (and failing) to convince Ragna to tell her who’d been abusing her. Her bruises had long since faded, but Claire remembered them vividly, and she had no doubt Ragna did too.

“Enjoy myself?” Ragna murmured the words as if they were a revelation.

“You know, relax,” Claire said. “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, it’s just that…you never seem to want to go wherever it is you go when you leave me for the night.”

“I sincerely apologize, Your Majesty,” Ragna gave a deep sweeping curtsy. “I never meant to impose upon you.”

“No, no, it’s fine; I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay. I know someone is abusing you. Whoever it is, I want to help.”

Ragna was panicked. She desperately wished to stay with the princess, but she’d said she didn’t need anything else, and she wasn’t supposed to linger. She was supposed to do whatever was asked of her and leave.

“Is there anything else you require?” she asked meekly. Please. Ragna begged silently. Please need something.

“Oh, um...I was just offering. I don’t need anything, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, that’s all.”

“I couldn’t, Your Majesty, I- I have to rise early to prepare your breakfast and-”

“Okay, that’s fine. Really, it’s okay,” Claire said soothingly, offering the nervous woman a smile. “I truly was just offering. Enjoy the rest of your night; I’ll see you tomorrow.”

No! Ragna screamed internally. She didn’t want to leave. But she had to. Her master was waiting.

“Ragna?” Claire’s voice broke Ragna out of her thoughts. “Are you okay?” Ragna nodded shakily. “You know you can talk to me right?”

Could she? Could the princess actually help her? As long as her needs were met, would she even care what odious things happened to her? No one had ever cared.

“I am fine,” Ragna lied, every word tasting bitter and wrong. “If you’ve no further need of me, I shall retire.”

“Okay then. Good night.” Claire smiled again, not a trace of ire on her face. Perhaps Ragna could trust her after all. But not yet. Not until she was sure.

“Good night, Your Majesty.” Ragna left, hating her cowardly behavior more and more with each step.

Claire let her go, even though every instinct in her told her not to. She couldn’t force Ragna to talk to her; it had to be her choice. But if she let Ragna leave, she could be hurt again.

Claire jumped up from the lounge and flung open the door, catching Gunnar by surprise.

“RAGNA!” Claire shouted down the empty hallway, eyes scanning for her friend. There wasn’t a soul in sight except for Gunnar. She was about to have Gunnar send for Ragna when she heard footsteps racing back toward her door. Ragna appeared from inside a hidden door along the hallway, looking flustered and (dare Claire hope) relieved.

“Your Majesty,” Ragna greeted her, her curtsy seamless as she came to a stop in front of Claire’s doorway. “You called?”

“Yes, I…” Claire trailed off. “Did you come out of a secret passage?”

“It is not secret, simply used only by staff,” Ragna replied perfunctorily. “Did you have need of me?”

“Yes.”

“Forgive me, I...thought you dismissed me for the evening.” Ragna looked at Claire questioningly.

“Yes, well...I changed my mind,” Ragna’s expression brightened, and her lips curled into a smile. “Come in.”

“What can I do for you?” Ragna asked.

“Absolutely nothing,” Claire replied. “You work too hard. I insist you take some time and relax.”

“I can relax in my own chambers-”

“Are you sure about that?” Claire offered. “Because that’s not the vibe I’m getting. Look-” she held up her hands to stay Ragna when the other woman looked ready to bolt. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s okay. I just want to make sure you know I am a safe person to talk to.”

“If it pleases you.” Ragna said softly as she bowed her head.

“It pleases me to know you are safe, that you feel safe,” Claire insisted. “I’d like you to stay here tonight.”

“What?!”

“I’m sure you have a long walk back, right?” Ragna said nothing. “C’mon, I’m dead on my feet and so are you.”

“I couldn’t-”

“Yes you can. The bed is huge and it’ll be easier on your back than the lounge,” Ragna shuffled after Claire without further protest, her silence testament to her exhaustion. Claire stepped behind the teak partition, stripping off her clothes and stepping into her waiting pajamas. “Do you want some pajamas to sleep in?” she asked, but Ragna didn’t answer. Claire peeked around the partition to see Ragna sprawled face down across one side of the bed. She hadn’t even bothered to get under the covers. Claire snorted quietly, padding across the floor to drop her weary frame into the bed beside her friend.

“Sorry I laid down first,” Ragna murmured. “I could barely stand.”

“It’s okay,” Claire replied. “Did you have a good time tonight?” she asked softly.

“This was the best day...I have had in many years,” Ragna smiled, the slow curl of her lips lighting up her face despite the tired slant of her eyes. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Claire sighed as she turned onto her back. “You deserve it,” Ragna gave a soft noise of assent, and Claire grinned as she glanced over at her friend. It was far later than Claire usually released Ragna for the night, and her pleasant face was usually scrunched with anxiety by now. It was a nice change to see her happy and relaxed. “Ragna, you know you can tell me what’s going on, right?” Ragna looked at her like a deer in headlights for a moment, seeming to come to her senses as her eyes darted away.

“I cannot.” she said, her voice tight. Claire turned on her side to face Ragna.

“Whatever it is, I’ll do anything I can to protect you.” Ragna sniffled as tears welled in her eyes, and she avoided Claire’s eyes as she used the pillow to wipe her face.

“You will think less of me.” she murmured, her voice soft and warbled as she fought not to cry.

“I promise you, I won’t,” Claire swore. “You are my friend, and I want to help you. There is nothing you can say that will change that.”

“I...I can’t,” Ragna cried. “You don’t understand, I...I cannot...I have no rights. I am nothing.”

“You are not nothing,” Claire said vehemently. “You are a living, breathing person, and you have rights. You are kind, and funny and good, and you have value just because you exist.”

“Your Majesty-”

“Claire,” the soft-spoken word corrected Ragna gently. “When it’s just us, you can call me by name. You’re my closest friend, Ragna.”

“Perhaps you need better friends.”

“Please, I’d be lost without you,” Claire snorted, rolling onto her back. “I meant what I said Ragna. It doesn’t make any difference to me what it is.”

“Why are you so desperate to help me?!” Ragna hissed, her anger finally boiling over. “Why do you need to know?! Just...enjoy your privilege and leave me be.”

“Because I can tell that something is wrong and you’re lying through your teeth about it!” Claire snapped back. “Whoever it is, whatever it is, stop deflecting and just tell me!”

“No!”

“Why not?!”

“Because what if you can’t help? What if I let myself hope, and nothing changes?” Ragna asked shakily.

“Ragna…” Claire reached out to grab her friends hand in the dark. “I can’t help unless I know what the problem is.”

“Please don’t be angry with me, I- I could not bear it,” Ragna pleaded, squeezing Claire’s hand like a sailor lost at sea clutches a life raft. “I want to tell you, I do, but I simply cannot.”

“Whoever is doing this conditioned you to think no one will help.” Claire realized.

“No one does,” Ragna said bitterly. “Instead of helping, they are like bilgeshnipe, taking and taking until there is nothing left.”

“I’m not like them, Ragna, please-”

“You are not-” Ragna began to sob. “You are the only person who is kind to me, I would never-”

“Come here, honey,” Claire got up from the bed, offering Ragna a hand up in the dark. “It’s okay, come on,” she steered Ragna into the large bathroom, helping her sit at the edge of the tub. Claire started running the water, making it warm enough to soothe their feet. As the tub filled, Ragna continued to cry, her pitiful cries muffled somewhat by the running water. Once she was satisfied, Claire shut off the water before sitting on the ledge beside Ragna. “Are you okay?” Ragna nodded weakly.

“Why are we sitting in the bath?” she asked softly. Claire smiled kindly.

“My mom used to do this for me when I was upset. Something about it is just soothing, and you clearly need it.”

“Thank you.” Ragna allowed herself to be hugged, her tired frame sagging against Claire’s.

“You’re welcome,” Claire took Ragna’s weight, letting her friend cry as she finger brushed her hair. “I’m not going to push you to talk anymore. Just know I’m here when you’re ready.”

“I don’t like keeping secrets,” Ragna said piteously against Claire’s shoulder, fresh tears falling as she squeezed her eyes shut. “I want to, but I’m afraid.” Claire rubbed her back soothingly, wishing she could choke the life out of whoever hurt Ragna.

“When you’re ready to talk, I will listen,” she promised. “I would like for us to agree to always be honest with each other. To be true friends. I realize there is a power imbalance at play and if you don’t feel comfortable, I understand, but I want you to always feel safe and welcome with me. You have been kind and helpful ever since I arrived and I would like to repay that as best I can.”

“It is my job, Your Majesty.”

“I know, but I think we’ve become closer than our respective titles, don’t you agree?” Claire asked. Ragna nodded, a sheepish smile gracing her delicate features. “You’re not a servant to me, Ragna. You’re my friend. And friends call each other out, like you did earlier.”

“When you said I read you for filth?” Ragna asked, pulling back to look at Claire with confusion. “I don’t even know what that means. Are you...upset?” she cringed.

“To read someone for filth just means that you’re being brutally honest with them. I was upset about Loki and you saw right through me,” Claire laughed. “I’m not mad at all. I’m honestly glad someone saw what I was going through. I need that, because I have a terrible habit of ignoring my feelings and it helps to have a friend remind me when I’m being a dumb ass.”

“I am still your servant, Your-” Ragna stopped herself. “Ma’am.”

“Claire,” Claire nodded suggestively when Ragna looked at her with wide eyes. “It’s okay, you can call me by name.”

“I couldn’t.”

“You have my permission,” Claire promised. “Not that you need it, but it’s there.”

“I remember, from your lessons earlier tonight. You are giving me consent.”

“Exactly. I know you won’t always be able to because of rules, but I want you to feel free to call me by name when it’s just us.”

“Free,” Ragna said wistfully, kicking her feet in the warm water. “I haven’t been free in...I’ve lost track of the years. Decades, perhaps?”

“Decades?” Claire ogled the young woman beside her. “But...you look so young.”

“Bless you,” Ragna smiled. “My people have long lifespans. Not as long as the Aesir, of course, but longer than your people. I am not quite middle-aged, but I shall be soon.”

“Can I ask- what does middle-aged mean for your people?”

“I am just under two hundred years. My people tend to live close to five.”

“Wow,” Claire gasped. “That’s amazing. And you’ve been in Asgard for- you said decades?”

“Yes,” Ragna said sadly. “I have forgotten precisely when my master brought me here. I imagine it is written within the records.”

“What records?” Claire asked.

“My master was required by law to declare what property he brought back from the war,” Ragna explained softly. “All of the soldiers are required to do so.”

“All of them?” Claire felt like the air had been punched from her lungs. Military service was mandatory- Loki had said every man served at his majority. Faces flashed behind Claire’s eyes- Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, Thor, Loki-

“More do than don’t.” Ragna said softly.

“And- what does that even mean- they can’t just take people-”

“But they can,” Ragna replied brokenly. “They can and they do.”

“And what- they just force you to work in their houses or palaces like-” Claire stopped, horrified eyes darting to Ragna’s face. “Like slaves,” Ragna’s gaze dropped in shame. “No...” Tears clouded Claire’s vision as the rug was swept out from under her. It all made perfect sense now- the extravagance, the finery- all of it was to cover the massive pile of shit they’d carved their home out of. And she’d walked right in. “Oh god, I think I’m gonna be sick-”

“I thought you knew.”

“No,” Claire lamented. “Ragna, I swear I didn’t know. I thought- I don’t know what I thought. I assumed you were getting paid.”

“Paid?!” Ragna laughed. “What use does a slave have for wages?”

“I’m so sorry,” Claire sobbed. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know! This is fucked up! How can I fix it? Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“I appreciate the offer, but it is such a widespread problem...I do not know that it can be fixed.”

“How do I help you then?” Claire asked. “Please. Let me help.”

“You...truly wish to help me?” Ragna asked hesitantly.

“Absolutely. What can I do? I’m stuck in this miserable place; let me use my position for something good.”

“I am afraid,” Ragna admitted tearfully. “My master...he is a powerful man, and I fear that no matter what you do-” she sobbed. “It will not be enough. I hate him so much.”

“Is he cruel to you?”

“Always. He-” Ragna burst into fresh tears, dropping her face into her hands. “I cannot speak of it- you shall hate me. I hate myself! I-”

“Ragna, listen to me,” Claire said gently, pulling the weeping woman into her arms. “Remember what I said- there is nothing you can say that would make me hate you. You’ve done nothing wrong. Please let me help you.”

“My master-” Ragna sniffled. “You already know him.” Dread settled in Claire’s stomach like a stone.

“Who is it?” she asked quietly. “Please tell me it’s not-”

“I cannot say, I...you don’t know what he is capable of,” Ragna’s chin quivered as fingers blotted the corners of her eyes. “I’ve given up all hope of escaping him. Sometimes it feels like the only escape will be death.”

“I can teach you how to defend yourself, but let’s focus on getting you safe. What do you need?”

“I’m so sorry. You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

“That’s not going to change, I promise. I’m gonna do everything in my power to get you away from him.”

“But how?” Ragna hiccupped. “I belong to him.”

“You belong to no one but yourself,” Claire replied sincerely, clasping Ragna’s trembling hands in her own. “I swear to you, on my life, Ragna. He will never touch you again.” Ragna burst into fresh tears, collapsing into Claire’s chest and allowing herself to be cradled. Claire rubbed her back soothingly, letting her cry herself out. Inside, she burned with rage and resolve. Tears streamed down her face as she glared up at the golden ceiling. She didn’t know how she would fix this. She and Ragna were two birds trapped in a gilded cage, relentlessly poked with sticks by shady masters, but she’d be damned before anyone ever put their slimy hands on her friend again.

~~~~

Claire waited until Ragna’s breathing evened out before she tiptoed out of her bedroom. In the near darkness of the dying fire, she penned a short note and handed it off to Gunnar to be delivered.

“This goes directly to the prince royal- no one else is to look at it.” she commanded.

“Right away, Your Majesty.” Gunnar said as he accepted the note. Claire breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped back inside to go to bed. She’d sent her plea for help. All she could do now was hope Loki would answer it.

~~~~

At this time of night, very few people were awake. Gunnar was able to find a page wandering by and command the boy to deliver the message. From there, the note was brought to Loki’s chambers by the page and handed to the guard at the door. The guard, much older and wiser than the boy, leveled a deadened stare at the nervous boy.

“Please,” the page murmured. “Her Majesty’s guard said it was urgent.” The guard heaved a sigh, knowing full well the tongue lashing he was about to get. His meaty fist banged upon the gilt door, causing an almighty noise. From within the chambers, the prince’s thundering steps approached, growing louder and louder until the door opened and his murderous face came into view.

“ARE YOU MAD?!” he shouted. “What could possibly be so important in the dead of night?!”

“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty,” the guard said, holding out the folded note to Loki. “You received an urgent message from Her Majesty the princess royal.”

“Oh for Bor’s sake,” Loki growled. “It’s not enough that she must plague my waking hours; now she must plague the night as well?” He ripped the parchment open, brows furrowed deeply as he read the scrawled words. “What am I meant to do with this?”

“I-I-do-don’t know-”

“Speak up, boy.” Loki snapped.

“I don’t know, sire! Her Majesty directed it be brought straight to you; that is all I know!” Loki ticked an angry brow at the frightened boy before crumpling the missive into a ball.

“Well, all I know is that I am going back to bed. Her Majesty is a grown woman and is perfectly capable of handling her ‘urgent matter’ on her own.” A glimmer of green slammed the gilt door, making the page flinch.

“I did warn you.” The page collected the discarded parchment from where Loki had thrown it and returned to his duties.

The next day

When Kari and the other ladies arrived in the morning, Claire and Ragna were still fast asleep.

“My lady!” Kari’s harsh whisper brought Claire out of her slumber, her mumbled “Whua?” lost in the harried murmurs of her ladies. Surrounded by a gaggle of women and their owl-eyed expressions, Claire could only think of one question.

“Whattimeisit?”

“It’s past breakfast, my lady. I’ve brought you a tray since...well, since none of us had seen Ragna.”

“Thank you.”

“Is...is everything alright?” Kari asked, eyes darting to Ragna’s sleeping form.

“Everything is fine. Ragna was exhausted and I offered her a place to sleep, that’s all,” Claire rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she sat up. “She’s not in trouble, is she?”

“Her absence has been noted,” Holga said solemnly. “But if she has been with you, all is forgiven.”

“Great! Hey, since we’re all here- I want to talk all of you. Let’s go in the other room so Ragna can sleep.”

“Is something wrong?” Koza asked as Claire padded into the sitting room.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Fingers raked through Claire’s hair as she sat cross-legged on the lounge. “I know we had a good time goofing off last night and telling jokes about Fandral and all that. But I want to make sure that you’re all safe.”

“Of course we are safe,” Kari scoffed. “This is Asgard, not Muspelheim.”

“All the same,” Claire insisted. “It’s important to me that no one is taking advantage of you, especially Fandral or anyone like him.”

“Fandral is a rake, everyone knows this,” Holga said. “But he is not a predator.”

“But like it or not, he does rate higher on the social ladder than each of you,” Claire argued. “And that means the playing field is uneven. So, just to be sure, he’s never pressured you into doing something you didn’t want to do?” The three women shook their heads. “He never made you feel like you couldn’t say no, or that something bad might happen to you if you did?”

“Men always make passes at pretty women; it has been that way since the dawn of time, Your Majesty,” Holga looked annoyed by Claire’s questions as she crossed her arms over her chest. “If they offer and we are not interested, that is the end of it. We are free to lie or not lie with whom we choose. Besides, there are always the pleasure houses!”

“Pleasure houses?” Claire balked. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised; brothels exist all over Earth too.”

“The pleasure houses of Asgard are quite popular, as they house people from across the realms.”

“Oh?” Claire glanced up skeptically. “People travel to Asgard to work in the pleasure houses?” She shouldn’t judge; people did the same thing on Earth. It just seemed at odds with the purity culture Asgard seemed to cultivate.

“I suppose some might,” Holga replied. “But more likely they were brought here as trophies of war and their masters sold them off.”

“WHAT?!”

“It is perfectly legal.” Holga’s defensive shrug made Claire’s blood boil. How could she be so blasé?

“It’s disgusting,” Claire spat. “And you should be upset about it.”

“What is the point in my being upset, Your Majesty? Who would care for the opinion of one such as myself?”

“I care, and so should you,” Claire sank onto the lounge with an angry huff. “What do you know about them?”

“Not much, beyond the fact that being sold to one is a fate worse than death.”

“I can imagine. So you’re telling me that men who go into conflict have the right to bring back whatever or whoever they want?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And they have the right to do whatever they want with their...stolen property?” Claire asked. “I’m only asking for clarification. I in no way think of people as property.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. But every action must be documented,” Kari explained. “If a man chooses for example to bring home a woman-” a collective cringe colored the women’s faces. “He is entitled to keep her or sell her, but whichever he chooses must be documented so that proper taxes can be collected.”

“So if he keeps her, he pays the taxes, but if he sells her-”

“Whoever purchases her pays, Your Majesty.”

“And there’s no restrictions on this?” Claire asked.

“None. A man is entitled to claim what he wants after battle.” Koza said quietly.

“It is how Ragna came to be here.” Kari muttered. Holga gave her a shove, clicking her tongue in anger.

“It is not our place-”

“It’s okay, I already know,” Claire held up her hand to stop the women from fighting. “Ragna told me herself. What I would like to know, if you’re comfortable telling me, is how each of you came to work in the palace.”

~~~~

Later in the afternoon, with fury still boiling in her veins, Claire took to the training field. Thankfully, Sif was there and the two were able to train together.

“Can I ask you a question?” Claire asked as they took a water break. The afternoon sun was unrelenting, scorching everything in its path, and Claire’s lungs felt like she’d swallowed fire. The soreness in her hands and ache in her bones felt good after such a long period of inactivity.

“Of course. Does something trouble you?”

“Yes, actually. What do you know about this trophy business?” Sif lowered her tankard, her brows high with surprise.

“Who told you about this?” she asked. “It is ugly business, and not something anyone with honor would take part in.”

“It turns out that several of my staff are victims of it,” Claire said darkly. “I want to help them, but I don’t know how.”

“I’m sorry to say that you likely cannot,” Sif replied. “The staff in the palace belongs to the crown.”

“To Odin.”

“Yes,” Sif nodded. “Take heart, Your Majesty. The crown does not actively abuse its staff; they are vital in order for it to survive.”

“I don’t care how nice they are- they could just as easily hire staff, instead of stealing them,” Claire hissed. “I’m sure the soldiers who brought them to Asgard got nice bonuses?”

“They were paid handsomely, if that is what you mean.”

“And where would I find records of this?” Sif’s brows furrowed, her jaw tightened as she shook her head.

“Your Majesty-”

“Don’t tell me not to look into this Sif. I need to know. Where?” Sif sighed quietly as she relented.

“Property records are kept in the library,” she said softly. “Just...I am very old, Claire. This practice has been going on since well before my birth. It is very upsetting.”

“Yes, it is,” Claire stilled, frowning as a familiar figure came into view across the field. “Son of a bitch.” Sif followed her gaze, a matching frown crossing her features as she laid eyes on Loki talking with Hogun.

“What irks you today, Your Majesty? New grievance or old?” Sif asked playfully, eyeing Claire warily as she reached for the knife on her belt.

“Both.” Claire said, letting the knife fly. It zipped through the air, pearl handle glistening as it spun end over end. A satisfying thwunk echoed across the field as the blade jabbed the wooden boards mere inches from Loki’s face. Both Hogun and Loki flinched back, startled by the sudden intrusion. The pearl handle caught Loki’s attention right away, and he reached for the knife with an angry sneer.

“Are you mad?!” Loki hissed as he wrenched the knife free. “You could have struck me.”

“Or me.” Hogun added.

“If I wanted to, I would have,” Claire said breezily as she joined the two. Sif lingered behind, warning Hogun not to get involved with a shake of her head. “I’d like my knife back.”

“Why, so you can actually strike me with it this time?” Loki scowled.

“You’re such a baby.”

“Am I meant to be grateful?”

“It would be nice if you simply remembered I exist. Not being ignored all the time would be great.”

“I’m terribly sorry you feel slighted. Shall I fall to my knees in penitence?”

“You could at least be grateful. I am the only reason you're here and not six stories under,” Claire glanced at the ground, and Loki glared at her angrily. “Why didn’t you answer the note I sent you?”

“Which one?” Loki asked flatly. “They were all so very annoying, you will need to be more specific.”

“Wow,” Claire whistled. “You are such an asshole, of like...epic proportions. Monuments should be erected to your dickishness.”

“If they were, would you be happy?”

“You think I’m happy?” Claire scoffed. “Loki, in what universe could I possibly be happy?”

“Is it truly so terrible here?” Loki asked.

“Um, obviously?” Claire rose to the bait. “I have maybe a handful of friends here, everyone I know is millions of miles away, and the one person I should be able to rely on for companionship ignores me. That’s you, by the way, in case you didn’t know.”

“I gathered that. I apologize for not coddling you; it was my understanding you were an adult. Perhaps I should furnish you with some children’s toys since you wish to act like one.”

“I’m a child because I have the audacity to hold you accountable?! To promises you made?!” Claire shrieked. “I’m not asking for much, you know. Just that you put in some kind of effort to make this work!”

“We are still married, are we not? Therefore it works,” Loki flipped the knife, holding it out to her with a guarded expression. “I’d thought you would be smarter not to attempt assassination around witnesses.”

“I was making a point, jackass.” Loki glanced sideways to the new hole in the wooden boards.

“I’d say you succeeded.” He pulled the knife back when she reached for it, delighting in the fury in her gaze when she looked up at him.

“Why are you ignoring me?” she asked. “I really need your help.”

“With what? Planning your next party?” Loki asked scathingly. “Astrid told me you were upset and I came to...apologize,” he sneered. “You didn’t seem upset at all.”

“I’m very good at ignoring my feelings; something we have in common,” Claire replied. “But I sent you another note later. I really do need-”

“I’m afraid I’m unavailable,” Loki replied. “Speak with Astrid, perhaps we can schedule something in the next...six to eight weeks?” he suggested as Fandral joined their little group. Sif wisely kept to the fringes of their bubble, scaring away anyone who strayed too close.

“You’re joking.” Loki’s arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders squaring as he closed himself off.

“We could book something further down the line, perhaps in a decade? Why not two?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Claire shoved at him, fury welling in her chest when he barely moved. “Something stinks here, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it whether you help me or not.”

“It’s not me,” Hogun offered from Loki’s side. “Maybe Fandral fell into a latrine again.”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME!” Fandral screeched. Hogun shook his head at Claire as Fandral launched his body at Hogun’s middle. The two rolled in the dirt, trading blows like overstimulated children. Claire and Loki both took exaggerated steps aside to escape the brawl as Sif waded in to break the two apart.

“I went to see it, you know.” Claire muttered as Fandral screamed about Hogun ‘embarrassing him’.

“My cell?”

“No, the bifrost. Yes, your cell.” Claire rolled her eyes, watching Sif haul Fandral up by his collar.

“Why?” Claire shrugged. A thin trickle of blood trailed down Hogun’s face as he got to his feet.

“I thought maybe it would help me understand you better,” she replied. “Whatever you think of me, that's all I've ever wanted.”

“I do not want your pity.” Loki sneered.

“You don't have it.” Loki grunted angrily and walked away, scowling when Claire followed after him with a shout.

“Leave me be, you miserable woman!”

“No! Why are you acting like this? I can't make sense of it- you promised to help me do this shit and then you just dropped me- you lied to get me to stay!”

“No, you lied!” Loki shouted. “How many times must I explain it? I am the god of lies; I sense lies, I don't tell them.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You are a talented liar, madam. I almost respect you for it,” Loki let a sarcastic laugh escape him. “You managed to fool me longer than anyone else ever has. Perhaps your government will give you a medal. You certainly deserve it after all your heroic efforts.” He threw the knife at her feet, a cloud of dirt licking at her shoes. He stalked off, leaving Claire behind speechless and furious.

~~~~

With her husband exhausted, Claire made her way to see the queen bee.

Frigga greeted her happily, offering her tea and a seat at her table. As Claire sat, Frigga set aside her needlework.

“What brings you to see me today, my dear?” she asked kindly. “Is my son still being a buffoon?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Claire huffed. “I wanted to ask you some questions.”

“Of course, dear, what about?”

“I recently learned that Asgardian soldiers are allowed to claim trophies after battle, and that several of my staff were brought to Asgard against their will.”

“Sadly, it is still a widespread practice,” Frigga acknowledged with a sigh. “I have tried to persuade Odin to outlaw it, but he insists it is necessary.”

“Why does he think that?”

“He is of the mind that Asgard would cease to function without the practice,” Frigga shrugged. “I’ve told him that there are plenty who would jump at the chance to serve, but he is adamant this is the best way.”

“He doesn’t think Asgard can function without stealing slaves?” Claire scoffed. “If that is true, then Asgard shouldn’t exist.”

“Don’t say that, dear girl-”

“I will, because it’s true,” Claire said firmly. “If a kingdom cannot function without slave labor, then that kingdom should not exist.”

“None of us can get by without assistance,” Frigga said. “Can you honestly say you can function without your ladies to clean your chambers, to help you bathe and dress?”

“Yes, of course I can, because I’m an adult and I was taught how to care for myself and my home,” Claire replied heatedly. “Becoming a princess doesn’t change that.”

“Claire-”

“I need to leave. Excuse me.” Claire beat a hasty retreat from Frigga’s chambers with a sour taste in her mouth. What had she been thinking? Sif had said all the staff belonged to the crown; of course Frigga would be in support of it. Even if she found the practice distasteful, she still benefited from it. She wouldn’t be any help.

It was time to regroup and plan her next steps.

~~~~

Frigga found Loki in his chambers, fresh from the bath and frowning at the heap of papers on his desk.

“Mother,” he shot to his feet when she stepped inside the study. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be here myself, but I have concerns I wished to discuss with you.”

“If it’s about what just happened on the training field-”

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Loki said quickly, smiling nervously when Frigga gave him The Look™. “What concerns do you have?” he gestured for her to have a seat, waiting until she’d sat down before he took up his spot behind the desk.

“I fear that Claire is going to do something drastic,” she began. “She just came to see me and was most upset about the practice of war trophies.”

“Any sane person would be; it’s barbaric,” Loki shrugged. “What of it?”

“The girl is isolated, in a foreign place with very little support in what she no doubt feels is a hostile environment,” Frigga scalded her son with a heated look. “I do not know Claire as well as I know you, but you are similar enough that I’m beginning to worry that she will attempt to take on the problem by herself.”

“That is a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Loki scoffed. “What could she possibly do if she is, as you say, isolated?”

“I would prefer not to find out. Loki…” Frigga sighed heavily. “I simply do not understand why you are so determined to treat the poor girl so heinously.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you!” Frigga said tersely. “Whether it be childish impudence or stubbornness, I care not. I am beyond weary of this. The entire palace speaks of little else except how you and your wife are all but at each other’s throats; even the most respectable ladies are full of gossip! You must do something!”

“Why should I care what empty-headed dolts have to say? Let them talk themselves to death; we should all be the better for it.”

“I thought you wanted to improve the public’s opinion of you. Is this the way you think to do it?” Frigga challenged, clucking her tongue in disappointment. “Like it or not, Claire is your wife. She will be your partner for the next several thousand years!”

“Then you will forgive me if I don’t hasten to make amends,” Loki rolled his eyes. “And why should I be the one to do so when she is the entire reason for it?”

“What in Bor’s name could that girl have done that is so odious-”

“She is nothing but a spy! She has no genuine affection for me at all; everything she has done since arriving in Asgard is a falsehood.”

“If she did, your loutish behavior has certainly squashed it by now!” Frigga chided him harshly. “I have eyes, Loki, as done everyone in the palace. No one would ever assume that girl was faking anything. If she didn’t like you, Claire would not suffer you at all. For Bor’s sake, Loki, you are far too intelligent to genuinely believe she was lying to you,” she chuckled breathlessly. “How could she possibly hope to fool you?”

“Well…” Loki floundered in the face of his mother’s laughter, a surge of embarrassment drawing his shoulders up to his ears. “What of this then? Anyone would make the same assumption!” he produced Claire’s folder from his pocket dimension, handing it over for Frigga to read. Frigga’s eyes darted to his as she turned a page, her eyebrows growing higher and higher as she read the remarks Claire had written.

“The girl is astute, I will credit her that,” she remarked. “I’ve also long held the suspicion that you did not act alone on Midgard.”

“Mother!”

“I know, I am old, but I am your mother and I know you better than you think!” Frigga argued. “The son I raised would never do what you have done. To the Midgardians you are still a threat; of course the girl would gather what little information she could! Did you bring this to her? Give her a chance to defend herself?”

“So she could lie even more?” Frigga got up from her seat and crossed to his side of the desk.

“Did she lie, or is it easier for you to believe she did?” Her arm snaked around his shoulders as she leaned down to hug him. “I know how your mind works, my darling. You don’t believe anyone could truly care for you, but they do. And if you truly think that girl lied to you, you are a bigger fool than you believe your brother to be.” She pressed a kiss to his temple, set the folder on his desk, and breezed out of the room.

Loki sat motionless, dazed as he stared down at the folder in front of him. Was he a fool? Had he let his insecurities ruin something before it truly began?

He’d never sensed a lie from Claire, not once. He could admit that. He’d been panicked when he first found the folder; he could admit that too. Loki cringed as he recalled how he’d behaved.

Norns help him. He owed Claire so many apologies.

But would she accept them?

~~~~

Across the palace, Claire was ready to make a move. She’d managed to procure the chambers next door to hers, claiming she ‘needed space’. She was waiting for Ragna to arrive with dinner, pacing back and forth in the sitting room.

Thankfully her wait was short, as Ragna arrived only moments later.

“Hi Ragna!”

“Good evening...Claire,” Ragna gave her a small smile, as if they were sharing a secret. “How was your day today?”

“Oh, can’t complain. Ruffled some feathers, threw a knife at my husband-” Ragna’s grip on the cloche covering Claire’s plate faltered, and it clattered to the floor noisily. “All in all, it’s been a good day. I have exciting news.”

“Oh?” Ragna asked as she plucked the cloche from where it landed. “More exciting that threatening the prince royal?”

“What’s the big deal?” Claire scoffed, shrugging as she made her way to the table. “If I wanted to hit him, I would have.”

“The prince is well, then?”

“The prince has no new holes in his annoyingly handsome face,” Claire sighed. “Would you like to hear the news?”

“I’m uncertain my heart can handle more news,” Ragna replied flatly as she dropped into the seat opposite Claire. “But I’d like to hear it anyway.”

“I put in a request for the apartment next door. It now belongs to me, and I learned it has a secret door that leads right into this room!”

“How lovely,” Ragna smiled. “Why did you feel the need for more space? Are you planning to relocate so the prince cannot find you?” she chortled at her little joke.

“Actually, no,” Claire shook her head. “The rooms are under my name, but I got them for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes. You can move in whenever you like.”

“I...You…” Ragna slouched back in her seat, disbelief written clearly upon her face. “You obtained...housing...for me.”

“Yep,” Claire chirped. “I also took the liberty of sourcing a number of guards for your door, of which you will have final choice. We can meet them first thing in the morning.”

“Your Majesty, I-” Ragna swallowed thickly. “I cannot live in rooms such as these.”

“Of course you can. I’m updating your job description. From now on, you go where I go, at all times. Which means I need you close by, day or night. No more having Gunnar find a page to find a messenger to blah, blah, blah. I want you-” Claire pointed at the secret door in the wall. “Twenty feet away.”

“But…”

“Would you like to hear the second piece of good news?”

“Is it better than the first piece?”

“I am equally excited about both.” Claire grinned.

“Somehow that concerns me,” Ragna muttered. “What is it?”

“I had a meeting today with the palace accountant. He’s helping me set up accounts for each member of Loki’s staff and mine, so that you can all be paid wages for your work.”

“You’re going to pay us?!” Ragna asked incredulously.

“It’s about time; don’t you think?” Claire smiled. “It’s going to take some time; I wasn’t sure what counts as a living wage here so the accountant is supposed to draw up estimates for me.”

“Can you do that?”

“No one said I couldn’t,” Claire shrugged as she polished off her wine. “I took charge of the household accounts when Loki and I married, so I figured it was time to put them to good use. You deserve to be paid for your labor.”

“When-” Ragna cut herself off, trying to contain the eagerness on her face. “When can I move my things?”

“Let’s go get them right now,” Claire offered. “You can crash with me again tonight if you don’t want to be alone.”

“I’d like that,” Ragna beamed. “But...my master will be waiting for me.”

“We could always wait until he’s distracted and get your things when he’s not there.”

“We would have far better chances of succeeding if we go during the day- he is always busy with meetings.”

“Great, we’ll go tomorrow after you pick out your guard,” Claire smiled. “Which leads me to phase two of my plan: exposing your ‘master’ for the cunt muffin he is.”

[sitp-recs]

liv, do you have any idiots to lovers recs? I’m thinking things in the vein of “keep it down” by warmfoothills; where draco and Harry like each other so much but are just so dumb about it! it also works if only one of them is an idiot (usually Harry, my oblivious king!!) huge bonus if they have a big, combined friend group that everyone in it either 1.knows they’re in love with eachother bc duh or 2.already thinks they are dating/fucking

It took me ages to post this but if you’re still around I got you, anon 🫡 That’s also a favorite trope of mine, I adore that warmfoothills fic. Here are some recs for you, I’ve had so much fun putting this list together. I also did a reclist for roommates AU a while ago. Hope you enjoy!

Still Life (2019, M, 3k)

Take A Stab At It by @sorrybutblog (E, 3k)

It’s a bit pathetic, Harry knows, to have a hard-on for the guy who bullied you in school. Kind of cliché to look back on years of obsession and hatred and think, Oh.

Closer by @pennygalleon (M, 5k)

All who know them are convinced that Harry and Draco are a couple. But that's just ridiculous.

Tread That Fine Line by disapparater (E, 5k)

Harry could cope with being in love with Draco, it was the needing to get fucked by him that was driving Harry insane.

Mise en Place by @corvuscrowned (T, 5.5k)

Draco needs to learn how to cook, and luckily, Harry knows his way around a kitchen. The fact that Draco is using his newfound cooking skills to impress another man... Well, Harry just tries not to think about that too much.

Two of Us by @sorrybutblog (E, 5.5k)

The gang goes to a gay bar. Or: five times Harry accidentally pretended to be Draco’s boyfriend and one time Draco told him to put out or shut up.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (T, 10k)

Or: the one where Harry has writer’s block and Malfoy isn’t helping.

Party of Two by fireflavored (E, 13k)

Drinking, sex, and a total misreading of the concept of fuck buddies.

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year…

An Act of Kindness for One Harry Potter by a Sympathetic Draco Malfoy by 0idontknow0 (E, 15k)

As Draco leaned on the wall to wait for them to get dressed, he could not help feeling like he had done a very kind thing by disrupting them. Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had. The man had saved the bloody world—okay, mostly Europe—the least someone could do was give him a proper shag.

It's Friday (I'm in Love) by @punk-rock-yuppie (E, 16k)

At first, Draco only hangs out with them on Fridays after work; then he starts shagging Potter after pub nights. Then all the rest of the gang tries to befriend Draco and even worse, Potter tries to date him. It’s an absolute disaster, if you ask Draco. Or, Draco and Harry fall in love over the course of several Fridays and some other days of the week.

solemates by @shiftylinguini (E, 17k)

It starts because Harry has no self-control when it comes to meaningless and entertaining competition. Actually no, that's not quite right. It starts because Harry is absolutely plastered.

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (E, 19k)

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

Nothing But You On My Mind by @moonflower-rose (M, 29k)

Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? Loads, as it turns out.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (M, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

A Love Story of Less-Than-Epic Proportions by InnerLilith (E, 39k)

Harry and Draco are just friends. Sure, they work together, and live together, and go to gigs together, and do pretty much everything else together—so what? That’s just what friends do. And Harry has no interest in messing with their friendship. He certainly doesn’t need everyone else constantly meddling, pestering them to just get on with it and get together already. He’s having a hard enough time as it is, trying to come to terms with the fact that he probably isn’t ever going to find love. But who needs love, anyway, when you’ve got a best friend?

Another Heart Whispers Back by @slytherco (E, 53k)

At twenty-five, Harry Potter is still a virgin and sorely lacking in options to change that state anytime soon. To help him find a plus one for Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and maybe kill two birds with one stone, Harry’s friends set him up on a series of blind dates. The only problem is, there’s something not quite right with each of their candidates.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.

All Must Draw Near by Saras_Girl (M, 61k)

Harry doesn't have time for rumours; he has a shop to run. Which is just as well, really.

The Pure and Simple Truth by lettered (G, 65k)

Harry, Draco, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, and Pansy go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Pansy―you guessed it―go to a pub. I could go on. In fact, I did. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Pansy, Ron, Blaise, Luna, Goyle, Neville, and Theodore Nott go to a pub. In various combinations.

[pahtoosh]

pools and kisses

masterlist

summer celebration masterlist

18+

wc: 960 words

warnings: brief descriptions of reader being afraid of/avoiding water, reason is not specified

a/n: day four of the summer celebration!!! thank you everyone who has interacted with these stories. waking up to see so many notifications made me so happy🥺

pairing: mafia!bucky x gn!little!reader

summary: Bucky decides to help his baby get over their fear of the pool

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Today was the big day: Bucky was going to get you into the pool. You were always curious about it, but too scared to do anything more than dip your feet. Your daddy bought you an adorable kiddie pool, but it wasn’t very comfortable to sit in. The water always stayed ice cold and you could feel the seams of the plastic along the pool’s edge. You decided you were better off hanging out in the grass and doing land stuff like playing with the sprinkler.

Sometimes Bucky would have a party and invite your little friends. They’d get dressed with their floaties and play games in the water, but neither the company, the games, nor the colorful pool toys were enough to pull you from the ledge.

Bucky was content with sticking to your land boundary, but a few too many glances at the pool convinced him that you were more curious about the water than you had let on.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

“Hey, sweetie, whatcha up to?”

“Colorin’! Look!” You proudly held up a sheet from your coloring book.

“Oh it’s beautiful! Can Daddy take a picture of it?”

You nodded and went to pick another coloring sheet.

“Hang on there, bun. Daddy has a question for you. It’s a big one, we might need the chair for this.”

You let up a small gasp and scrambled to the large armchair in your room. Whenever Bucky had a big question to ask you, he’d do it with you in his lap. This position was grounding for the both of you, and it allowed for physical closeness without having to make eye contact.

This armchair was the perfect lap-sitting chair, but it had a couple of stuffies who needed to get out of the way first.

“Excuse me, duckie! Sorry, missus bear!” You waited patiently while Bucky got situated and then clambered onto his lap.

“Angel, do you like going outside in the summer?”

“Yeah!! I love it, Daddy. I can play with the bugs and the flowers.”

“Good, baby, good. What do you think of the pool?”

You picked at a loose thread on your shirt. “ s’okay.”

“Just okay? Well Daddy thinks it’s very fun.”

“It’s fun?”

“It’s very fun. You can swim and splash around. It’s nice and cold so you can have fun even when it’s hot outside. And don’t even get me started on all the pool toys.”

“Da pools toys look cool.”

“What d’you think about giving it a chance huh, bun? Think you can try going into the pool today?”

You felt nervous, but you knew Bucky would always keep you safe. And the pool toys did look fun.

“Okay, Daddy. I try the pool today.”

Bucky let out a cheerful alright! and scrunched up his nose cutely before kissing all over your face. He was so excited.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Not too long later, you were in your bathing suit and any revealing skin was smothered with sunblock. You might need help getting it all off your ears in the bath, but your daddy wasn’t taking any chances with your health. You were now sitting on the pool’s ledge, kicking your feet underwater to get used to the temperature.

“How’re you feeling, baby? The water feels good, right?”

“Mhm. I think I can go more into the water now.”

Bucky helped you move from the ledge to inside the pool. You whimpered a bit and instantly wrapped your arms around his neck and crossed your ankles behind his back. It felt normal being knee-deep in the water, but having it up to your chest was a little scary.

He cooed at the look of fear on your face and moved his hands to support your bottom. You were grateful for the vibranium’s ability to change to the right temperature. “Easy, baby. Daddy’s not gonna let you go.” Slowly, he moved away from the pool’s edge and swayed you in his arms like he was lulling you to sleep. “Isn’t this nice?”

You shook your head and buried your nose into the crook of Bucky’s neck. Truthfully, it was nice. The weather was lovely, the pool was at the perfect temperature, and nothing was better than being held by your daddy. But you were still scared.

“What can I do to help, baby?”

You made a whining noise and buried yourself deeper.

“Kiss, maybe?”

“Okay, come out and give Daddy some sugar.”

You giggled and kissed Bucky’s cheek before going back to your hiding spot.

“That’s it? Just one kiss? C’mon, sweetheart your Daddy’s dyin’ out here.”

You giggled and kissed his chin before repeating the cycle of kissing your daddy, then going back to your hiding spot. Nearly every inch of Bucky’s face received a kiss.

“I think you’re missing a spot, angel. And you’re still hiding.”

You took one last breath. I can do this. Daddy’s got me. Slowly, you removed your face from Bucky’s shoulder one last time and shyly pecked him on the lips. Your head stayed upright, no longer feeling the need to hide. Bucky stared at you in wonderment.

“You okay now?”

You nodded and took in your surroundings. The pool was less big and scary than you remembered. The flower garden looked different from this angle. It was nice.

You turned back to Bucky. He was cautiously optimistic about your response. He was watching out for signs of fear or discomfort and preparing himself for if you wanted to get out of the pool. However, he couldn’t help but be happy for you. Bucky was so proud of you for facing this fear and he loved you for trusting him in this vulnerable moment. You almost missed the completely smitten look on his face.

“I think I like the pool now, Daddy.”

[misstycloud]

Plz more Riddle fics!

How you met

You smooth out your dress in order to make yourself appear as presentable as possible. After all, this was no ordinary occasion; one of your best friends were getting married. With all the on and off breaks the couple have had, you honestly wasn’t sure if they’d make it. But it turns out you were wrong.

You recalled that night when you had just gotten out of the shower and suddenly got a call from your friend. It was a bit hard to hear what she was babbling about over all the estatic noises she made simultaneously.

Telling her to slow down was easier said than done, but eventually she was calm enough to reveal the news. Her boyfriend had proposed that night and she’s said yes! You congratulated on her engagement despite the little shadow of doubt concerning her new fiancée. He wasn’t a bad person per se, however, you found yourself sceptic to how happy their marriage would be.

Perhaps you were a bad friend for not saying anything, but you knew your friend wouldn’t losten to you even if you told her you thought he may not be the one and she was making a mistake. So instead of putting your friendship at unnecessary risk, you chose to keep quiet.

So here you stood at the entrance of the engagement party the couple decided to throw. It was a slightly uncomfortable experience for you since you didn’t really know any of the people attending except for your friend of course. While the two of you were as thick as thieves, she was also part of other friend groups, of which she’d invited.

Bracing yourself for the awkward exchanges of being presented as ‘X’s other friend’, you took a step forward and immediately X noticed you. She hurried to you and gave you a hug, “Oh my god, I’m so glad you could come!” She squealed.

“I’m glad to be here.” You said, smile gracing your features.

“Come, you need to say hi to ‘Y’, he’s just over there.” She dragged you along with her and pointed at a well-dressed man’s back. He stood, conversing with other guests. “Sweetie!”

He turned around to face you. “Yes?”

“Look, (y/n)’s here!”

Her fiancée looked at you and smiled, “Hi, glad to see you make it.” He put a hand on your shoulder.

Ignoring the itch to remove it you said, “happy to make an appearance.”

“So how have you been?” He asked.

“I’ve been fine, not much going on really except for work, you know.”

‘Y’ nodded. “I understand. Big things isn’t for everyone.”

You raised an eyebrow at this. What did he mean by that? That your quiet, uneventful life sucked or something? Like he had so much going on. You scoffed under your breath.

Noticing the tensioning aura, your friend breaks in, “anyway, I’m so excited for you to be my maid of honour!”

“Right, but I should thank you for letting me be something so important.”

“What do you mean? Of course I’d want you to have that role, you’ve always been there for me. That reminds me, you should meet the best man! After all, you two have the most important roles in the wedding- apart from the green and bride, that is.” She chuckled. “Speaking of that man, where is he?” ‘X’ gazed at her fiancée for answers.

“He was here a minute ago, don’t know where he might have run off to- wait- there he is. Hey, man, come over here for a sec!” He waved another man over to your small circle.

The first thing you noticed, was the auburn hair. He, too, was dressed in a fancier manner and had a considerably handsome face. Brown, kind eyes met yours and for some reason you felt a little shy all of a sudden.

“Ah, there he is! My best man.” ‘Y’ praised. “This is Riddle, the guy’s been my pal ever since I can remember. You don’t find a nicer man around.”

Riddle slapped his friends arm, “Knock it off, I’m not that fantastic. Don’t exaggerate.”

“Haha, sure.” He then introduced you. “This is (y/n), ‘X’s maid of honour. You’ll be seeing each other more often from now on, okay.”

Riddle beamed down at you, reaching his hand forward. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you (y/n). I’ve heard some things about you from ‘X’ - only goood things of course.”

He raised an eyebrow when you didn’t say or do anything.

It took a second for your brain to load, and when it finally did, you shook his hand with an embarrassed expression on your face. “Yeah, sure- sorry I kinda spaced out there, hehe.” You apologised for your behaviour. The auburn haired man only laughed slightly.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but you’re very cute.”

Redness overtook your features. Cute? You? Wait, he actually thought you were cute? While you flushed, you wondered how he said something like that is easily. If it were you, you’d malfunctioned before you even got a word out.

Seeing this happen before her, ‘X’ couldn’t hold her giggles. Everyone’s attention fell on her.

“Oh my god, I can totally hear the wedding bells already!”

With a flushed face you scoffed, “what’re you?-It’s your wedding this is about so don’t go make up weird stuff.”

“Ooooh, I can see you blushing~”

“No, I’m not.”

“You totally are!”

While ‘X’ continued to poke fun at you, and you trying to fight her off, her fiancée was amused at the scene; none of you saw the way the best man gazed at you.

It was a knowing look, one that said he had all the cards on his deck. People were used to see Riddle constantly wearing an expression displaying his happiness and eagerness to help others, so they would’ve been taken aback at the current unusual expression gracing his features.

You were mad at the assumptions your friend started making, especially in front of the guy himself. You wished you could just tell her to shut it but that would embarrass you further. Still, you had no idea how right she were at the time.

[bluebayousblog]

RUMOR HAS IT

(Drew Starkey one-shot)

This is not a full on story but if you want more l'll be happy to add on upon request

Plot: in which drew and isobel address a false rumor in the most abstract of ways

Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC

Song: N/A

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PART TWO

PART THREE

Isobel and Drew had always known each other, from when they were kids up until now as seniors in college. They weren’t close friends, but they hung out more than acquaintances would. Their fathers were business partners so if they weren’t seeing each other at school they would cross paths on holidays.

The two were practically family, like distant cousins that you saw from time to time and enjoyed their company every once in while. If they did find themselves hanging out it would always be Drew’s doing. He would randomly text her to come chill with his friends at his fraternity house, and depending on the day Isobel would accept his offer and bring her friends along.

It was nice that he thought of her, which made being friends with a guy that would normally repulse her easier than one would think. When they would run into each other on campus and he insisted on walking with her because he was going the same way she got stares. Mainly from the sorority girls and cheerleaders that knew of Drew or were intimate with him given the few death glares she’d received.

Despite them obviously having the most platonic of relationships, people still liked to assume otherwise. Drew either ignored it or wasn’t aware of the chatter while Isobel endured the public scrutiny from a coupling she wasn’t even in. She envied that about Drew, how carefree and confident he was while she worried what everyone else was thinking.

Isobel hadn’t actually seen Drew in a good four weeks, sure he’d invited her to his party two weeks ago but they’d only seen each other in passing—besides that they hadn’t shared more than a word. It was now dead week and he wanted to study together saying her work ethic would help him concentrate more.

She’d resisted some, telling him she didn’t have transportation to meet him anywhere to which he remedied that problem by suggesting he just come over to her place. Not wanting to just flat out reject his request for a study session, she agreed.

Isobel stared out of her bedroom window with a blank expression waiting to see his expensive car pull into the parking lot of her apartment building. It was hard to miss compared to the other tenants that lived there that didn’t have billionaires as dads. Isobel didn’t drive so she didn’t have a hunk of the finest of metal to stick out like a sore thumb.

Her phone began to ring before she could zone out out while looking through the glass, Drew’s name sliding across the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey.” his deep voice rasped through the phone, so grainy the palm of her hand tingled from the vibration of her phone against it.

He was rustling around on his end as she waited for an explanation for his call that didn’t seem like was coming. Isobel bit her lip, waiting a few more seconds to see if he spoke but was still met with the sound of sporadic movement on the other end.

“Is everything alright, Drew?” She questioned, slightly concerned but also remembering his calm greeting when she answered. “Oh, yeah sorry I just wanted to ask if you drank coffee?” He finally spoke with a chuckle.

He always did shit like this, starting a task while he’s already doing something else and forgetting about one of the two things. His father hated that about him, but he couldn’t help his short attention span. From what I could grasp he seemed to have the ability to put the appropriate amount of attention on what peaked his interest at the moment, in that case he had no trouble focusing.

“Yes, but not usually at this time of day.” She answers as she looked at the clock on the tv stand.

“Well make an exception for me, come open the door.”

Drew’s voice penetrated the wooden barrier, shocking Isobel at his arrival. She hadn’t seen his car pull into the parking lot and still didn’t see it in any of the spots in front of the building. She’d looked away from the window once and he’d somehow spawned at her apartment door, but funny enough that’s how it always was with him, Drew just popping up in places to her surprise.

When she swung the door open one hand was holding a drink carrier with two ice coffees and the other a laptop, phone, and car keys. “Oh my gosh, Drew let me help you.” She exclaimed, rushing to his aid.

He sighed in relief, handing her the coffees with an appreciative smile like he wasn’t the one who bought the beverages. “Thanks Izzy.”

She moved to the side bringing the carrier to her chest so he could step in just as some girls came up the steps staring as the big man on campus entered her apartment. Isobel couldn’t help but notice their whispers as they threw her a fake smile and walked into their place, “I told you that was him.” She caught the blonde ones last words before the door slammed.

And just like that more rumors would spread, the first time they’d hung out in a month just to study and now people were making even more false narratives. Isobel rolled her eyes with a huff, letting the door close behind her as she walked into the living room with a frown.

“What’s wrong, Is? I bet that sweet ass coffee can make it better.” His lips curled into a smirk that immediately fell when she didn’t laugh as expected. “Nothing.” She lies not wanting to bring up something that would seem so minuscule to him.

Drew didn’t often see her upset and he wasn’t sure he liked the sight. It was obvious something was bothering her as it was written all over her face, caught in her furrowed eyebrows and he wanted more than anything at the moment to figure out why.

He wasn’t sure he would be able to focus on anything else until he did.

“You’re an awful liar tell me now.” Drew insisted, his pink lips in a straight line with a serious look on his face.

She sighed as her shoulders dropped signaling she was relenting which pleased Drew, it was one of the things he enjoyed about Isobel. She wasn’t a difficult person and therefore she was easy to be friends with. Isobel was a low maintenance type of girl which made him want to keep her around even more. Not because she was just good company, but because he felt the need to know she was good if he had anything to do with it which wasn’t often but when they were partying at the same place he was always on the lookout.

“My neighbors think we’re fucking along with every other breathing soul on campus.” Isobel admitted as she slumped into the cushion at the other end of the sofa.

She frowned when his eyebrows raised and a slight smiled etched on the right side of his mouth. The exact reason she didn’t want to confide in him written all over his annoying face. They weren’t even that good of friends for god’s sake and he was having this much of an effect on her life.

“But we’re not.” Drew stated nonchalantly as if it weren’t already obvious, but his tone was strange. Like he’d never thought of the two in that light before and it was the only way he could respond because he didn’t know any better and neither did Isobel. “Is it not the most ridiculous shit ever?” She groaned, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Ridiculous wouldn’t be my word of choice to describe us fucking, but you know we’re not fucking right?” He asked fully turning his body towards her.

“Right.”

“So who gives a shit, let them assume all they want.” Drew counters staring her straight into the eyes to make sure she was listening and actually taking his advice, he didn’t want shit she couldn’t control upsetting her. He liked having her around no matter how distant they could be and some petty rumors weren’t going to change anything. “And if anyone is giving you problems let me know, I know those lame as cheerleaders that live across the hall.”

Isobel’s ears quirked at his words not sure what him knowing them meant but judging by his coarse language towards them it didn’t go much past him just being aware of their existence.

“No, Drew, it’s not that deep the whole thing is just so stupid, the rumor holds no weight, I mean I’m not even remotely your type.” Isobel rambled on, unknowingly peaking the boys interest with her assumption.

Drew wanted to tell the girl that she was wrong, immediately shut that notion down she had in her head but then again he didn’t know if she was right either. He’d never looked at Isobel that way, sure anyone with eyes knew she was beyond pretty, but Drew never stared long enough for any type of reaction to happen within his body like he did other girls.

He’d known her for the better part of his life and had never taken a moment to look at her as more than a friend. There had been nothing in his brain that prompted him to do so as if their story was a plot that consisted of two friends that strictly hung out on occasion.

But now there was an itch present that was nudging him to write between the lines. He wasn’t sure he was into ruining their friendship but he didn’t mind dancing around the idea a bit.

“Says who?” He squints at her failing to stop the smirk on his lips, his voice is demeaning wanting to make her feel stupid for assuming such a thing, though he’d never shown her otherwise.

“No one I guess, but I’m just saying guys like you have never seemed interested in me so I just thought-“ She trailed off as Drew narrowed his stare even more as she spoke nonsense.

“I highly doubt that’s true, they have definitely been into you, they’re just too pussy to make a move.” He stated matter of factly.

Drew’s friends were always trying to get him to set them up with Isobel to which he always declined, he wasn’t going to be responsible for one of those assholes breaking her heart—at least that’s what he’s always told himself. She wasn’t off limits per se, but he also wasn’t going to make an effort, and they were never going to grow the balls to walk up to her.

Today wasn’t the first time he heard this rumor about him sleeping around with her. It was what all his friends assumed whenever he refused to play matchmaker. He would tell them they were just friends and if they chose not to believe him the first time then that was that.

Girls he slept with even brought it up to him, disbelief always laced in their voice whenever they asked him which always rubbed him the wrong way. Similar to now when Isobel stated so confidently how outlandish it would be for them to end up in bed together.

If the two could be friends after years of knowing each other who’s to say them fucking wouldn’t work just as well?

“Okay? Let’s stop talking about this and study, thanks for the coffee, dude.” She huffed, propping her feet up in the space between them on the sofa and opening her laptop.

Isobel couldn’t see him anymore behind her computer but she heard the hum he let out in response. She typed up her study guide for one of her finals next week for a little before sitting her laptop down and taking a sip of the coffee Drew bought her. It was definitely satisfying her sweet tooth but she would have hell to pay once night time rolled around.

She could feel Drew’s blue eyes on her as she took a couple of more sips before sitting the cup back down on the coffee table and turning her attention to him. His gaze didn’t falter at all, the slightest smile sitting on his pink lips that always seemed to be there. “What?”

“Can I borrow a pencil?” Drew randomly spit out. He actually needed a pencil, but it was also the first thing he thought of that could excuse his mindless gaze.

“Sure.” She quipped handing him the one she was just using and leaning over to grab another for herself out of her bag.

Drew came here with the intention of Isobel’s study habits rubbing off on him, but in turn she’d only served as a new found distraction for him. Now he was watching the curve of her ass in those damned yoga pants he just realized she was always wearing, but this was first time he’d notice the way her round ass sat perfectly in them—thoroughly appreciating the sight.

He looked away as she leaned back up to get situated, but quickly reverted his eyes back to her thick thighs. He imagined himself in between her plush limbs, situated above her while rocking her into his bed or just simply lying there with his head resting there on her flat stomach.

How could something that was so foreign to him just shy of an hour ago sound like the most appealing thing in the world at the moment. His hands were beginning to sweat the longer his greedy eyes continued to rake over her her body, the guy was lucky she didn’t feel it when she handed him the writing utensil.

Drew was an ass man, always has been and didn’t feel the need to straight up ogle her chest. He already knew she was gorgeous, but he couldn’t help but swipe his eyes up to look at her, hoping he might catch her with those plump lips wrapped around that straw again. Their eyes immediately latched, her brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing, Drew?”

He’d been caught in the act. His first time checking out his long time family friend that happened to be a girl and he’d completely failed at being discreet with it. He probably looked like a dork, he’d be surprised if drool hadn’t been falling from his lips.

“Seeing if you’re my type.” He admitted without shame. He wanted to go ahead and rip the bandage off, especially if his honestly meant she would possibly let his eyes roam her body some more.

Isobel’s head immediately fell into her hands in embarrassment, covering up her face like it would block her entire existence from his wandering eyes. There was no way Drew was checking her out, they’d gone a fucking decade without this happening. She fucked up bringing that rumor up to Drew, now there had been a shift, a new level to their friendship that he obviously didn’t mind exploring.

Her entire body wanted to curl into a ball when she felt his large hand wrap around her calf in a comforting manner. The girl was only so strong when it came to men, sure she’d never thought of him in any way that wasn’t friendly but he was attractive. And when someone as manly and as handsome as him was looking at her the way he was a minute ago all it would take was a poke of a finger to turn her into a puddle.

“You can’t just hide from me, we’re literally sitting on a small ass couch together.” He joked like he wasn’t just undressing her with his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that ever again, it’s embarrassing.” Isobel voiced still hidden behind her hands prompting a chuckle from him.

Not planning on looking up anytime soon too afraid to face him and endure another moment of his heavy gaze she leaned back into the sofa. Then his hand ran slowly down her calf stopping at her ankle causing shivers to litter her soft skin. A squeak left her lips as he yanked her legs toward him throwing them over his lap as he pulled her small body down the sofa as close as possible to him. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about you’re sexy. I should be embarrassed since you caught me in the act.” He mumbled, taking her wrists and placing them against her belly so she wouldn’t cover her face again.

“Were you embarrassed?” Isobel asked desperately wanting to know exactly what he was thinking. Whether that be embarrassment, disgust, or intrigue.

She had no idea what she wanted him to feel about her body, any outcome would blanket her with anxiety.

“No, it was well worth it, Izzy, now I just want a feel of my observations.” He rasped as his hands carefully ran up and down her calves.

His eyelids were low and his eyes were a shade she’d never seen on him. She was puddy in his hands, her inner thighs vibrating in want as her body started to become accustomed to his touch, “Okay.”

There was no sense of denying him any further, she’d been a goner as soon as he placed his hand on her leg.

Drew hesitated at first, in disbelief at her readiness, but he bounced back grabbing her waist and placing the girl on his lap. “Damn” he mumbled under his breathe, just loud enough for her to hear, as she slid right over his crotch, the only part of her that had rubbed off on him during their so called study session.

He looked straight into her brown eyes as his hands ran down her back onto her ass, covering both cheeks with a wide grip and immediately squeezing the flesh with his rough fingers.

“Drew.” She dragged out his name in a pant at the feeling of him grabbing her so intimately while leaning her chest against his and hiding her heated face in his neck.

“This fucking ass, Izzy.” He grunted lowly in her left ear like he was telling her it was going to get the both of them in trouble.

She sat there and took it as he grinded her against him practically fucking her through his sweatpants with the way he was kneading and spreading her ass cheeks. All she could do was let the moans slip from her lips into his waiting ears.

“Okay shit, that was more than just a feel.” He stopped his movements, but left his hands on her backside. Then Isobel heard a stutter in his already labored breathing and glanced up at him to see his dark gaze between their bodies. There was a wet spot from her arousal right on the crotch area of his sweatpants and in that moment she’d never wanted to crawl into a hole more as her cheeks burned in embarrassment.

Before she could brings her hands up to cover her face he caught them and placed them above her head as he dropped her body to the couch and pressed a knee between her thighs with a smirk on his lips, “Would you say I’m your type, Izzy?”

“Don’t patronize me, Drew, I can’t help it.” she whispered, feeling like a specimen under a telescope as he stared down at her.

His eyes dropped between them at her words, he’d barely touched her and she was soaking through the both of their pants. “I hope you don’t get this wet for just anybody.”

“What are you implying?” She said cocking her head to the side.

Drew knew Isobel didn’t get around, she’d had one boyfriend that she dated throughout the first three years of college. It was long distance, she found out he’d been cheating on her and he hadn’t seen her with anybody since. No one liked the guy, it was always awkward the few times he came for holiday dinners.

Thinking back Drew wasn’t sure if he didn’t like him or the idea of Isobel with a man in general. He didn’t trust any man around her, not his friends and not that douche that broke her heart. “I mean that I want to be the only person on this campus who has ever felt this.”

Isobel let out a breathy whine when he dropped his hips and pressed his dick against her soaked leggings, just resting there and reveling in the feeling of their bodies attached.

As much as she wanted to be embarrassed by this, his erection nestled in between her thighs was trumping all of her emotions. She’d never been this turned on with a guy, the whole thing was confusing. Never did she expect after years of knowing Drew that a random day during their senior year of college for him to be making demands regarding her vagina and for her to be turned on enough to heed his desires.

“I can’t register anything you’re saying while you’re pressing your dick against me like this, Drew.” She whimpers only making him slowly grind into her more as he rolled his hips with precision.

Drew had just found a new drug, gotten the littlest of a taste of it and wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to quit it, quit her. She was so wet, and the material of their bottoms so damp it was beginning to feel like there’s was no barrier between the two.

“I love the way my name sounds coming out of your fucking mouth.” He grunted. His name on her lips being the sweetest thing he ever heard wasn’t new, sure it didn’t turn him on before today but it could get him to do any favor she asked, “Make sure you listen to what I have to say right now, Izzy.” He grabbed her chin with his hand forcing her to look straight into his eyes, the man practically had full control over her body as he spoke.

“One. Don’t ever call me dude again. Two. I accepted that stupid job offer and got a new car. Three. All I can think about is fucking you in it.” He muttered the filthy words in her ear as he kissed down her neck, talking to her like he hadn’t known her since she was still wearing braces in middle school. “That’s a little forward don’t you think?” The girl challenged him with a flirty smile.

Isobel wasn’t going to give it up to him that easily, and she hoped he didn’t expect her to or he was in store for a rude awakening. She was slow to give her body to men because she was aware of the heartache that would ensue if they ever betrayed her trust. She’d tried to avoid it at all costs, though she’d found herself in that exact situation just a year ago. Love was a sick roller coaster that could catapult you to the ground when you least expected it no matter how strapped in you were.

All Drew did was shrug with a boyish grin playing on his lips, his gorgeous blue eyes falling to her plump lips and stopping there. Anxiety flared through her body as she followed his gaze, the thought of him simply kissing her feeling more much serious in contrary to him literally dry humping her on her couch.

But when his soft lips touched hers she didn’t care about any of the hazardous turns that would be waiting for them ahead, she blindly jumped on his ride with all safety precautions abandoned.

And just like that the two friends had made the unsubstantial rumors so concrete a blind man could see.

[densi-mber]

We Swear It’s Not Real, Part 2

***

“So, when are you two going to take the next step?” Mandy asked, insinuating herself between Kensi and Deeks. From her slightly lopsided smile, he thought she’d enjoyed the wine tasting. Turning to Deeks with a conspiratorial smile, she leaned closer. “I bet you already have a ring and spot picked out, don’t you Marty.”

“Beg your pardon?” Deeks asked at the same time Kensi nervously said,

“Mandy, you know we’re taking things slowly.” Taking Deeks’ arm, her hand tightened around his, flexing quickly several times. They’d decided that if anyone inquired about their future as a couple, they would redirect and lie through their teeth.

They just hadn’t allowed for a drunken Mandy’s persistence.

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard that same speech from both of you.” She affected a higher-pitched, sing-song voice, ‘We want to enjoy our time together without any pressure.’ ‘We only just found each other.’ ‘We don’t want to kill the romance.’” Mandy rolled her eyes. “You two are perfect together and one of you needs to make a move so I can start planning the wedding. Which means you need to get on it mister.” She poked Deeks in the chest.

“Mandy, enough!” Kensi snapped. “We’re not like other couples, so stop pushing for some fairytale that doesn’t exist.”

Mandy’s eyes widened, a bit of her alcohol induced giddiness disappearing in the face of Kensi’s anger.

“Geez Kay, I was mostly joking. You’ve always talked about your perfect wedding all these years. I thought you’d be happy.”

“Well, not everyone gets a perfect ending,” Kensi said, pulling her arm out of Deeks’.

“Kens—” he protested softly, as she stood up, gathering up the length of her blue skirt.

“I need a couple minutes.” Then before either of them could stop her, she hurried off towards the small vineyard gift shop.

“I’m such an idiot,” Mandy sighed, cupping her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t think I was going to upset her that much.”

“It’s ok,” Deeks assured with a forgiving smile. “It’s kind of a touchy subject. But, uh, if I ever do propose, I do have the perfect place in mind.”

Lifting her head slowly, Mandy grinned back at him. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

***

When Kensi came back about 20 minutes later, she was noticeably subdued, and faked her way through the rest of the event.

“Well, that was a disaster,” she sighed on their way back home. She’d kicked off her heels and roughly yanked the hairpins out keeping her hair in place.

“Eh, I thought the Riesling wasn’t bad,” Deeks joked. “Tiffani definitely approved.” Kensi gave him a knowing look.

“I freaked out for no reason. I let Mandy get to me, even though I knew she, or one of the other girls would pressure me about it at some point.”

“So why did you?”

“I don’t know,” Kensi said to his surprise. “I guess…I’ve been thinking about how different my life is from Kat’s and Mandy’s, any of my friends. I’m probably not going to get engaged, or invite all my friends to bachelor party, or marry—that’s just not my life.”

“Who knows, maybe I will propose to you someday,” Deeks said, probably getting way too close to the line of truthfulness for his own good.

Tilting her head to the side, Kensi reached for his hand on the steering wheel, smiling sadly. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Deeks.” She squeezed his hand once before letting go, and settling back with a wistful expression.

***

“Just a couple more weeks, and you’ll be a free man,” Kensi commented one night as they painstakingly glued tiny bits of lace to roughly a thousand centerpieces.

“Yeah, seems like it was just yesterday that the Tiffanys were jumping up in down in excitement at Kensi One-Date Blye finally having a boyfriend,” Deeks said after a moment.

The weeks flew had flown by with increasing speed, and before Deeks knew it, they’d hit the month of Kat’s wedding. With that, Deeks felt an increasing sense of panic with the knowledge that his and Kensi’s charade would be over once the reception ended.

And he didn’t want it to. Well, that wasn’t true; he didn’t want to pretend anymore. He wanted to be with Kensi, and he was pretty sure she felt similarly.

Since the disastrous wine tasting, her kisses were less perfunctory, and she found reasons to keep him hanging around longer each night. The day she’d insisted she needed help organizing her dishes was probably his favorite.

Every time he even hinted at there being something more, Kensi brushed him off with some self-deprecating comment about her inability to keep a houseplant alive. She wasn’t suited for a relationship, she insisted.

“I bet you can’t wait,” Kensi continued, pausing expectantly. Deeks hesitated, licking his lips as a touch of nerves set in.

“About that.” He drew a breath through his teeth, wondering if he was about to make the worst decision of his life. “You know how we said if either of us ever found someone that we liked, we’d stop doing this. Fake dating?” he asked. Kensi stilled, her face going carefully blank.

“Yes,” she said. “Did—did you find someone like that?”

“I did. I wanted to tell you sooner, but uh, I didn’t want to back out on our deal.”

“Oh.” The devastation on her face made him almost stop right then and there and tug her into his arms. Shrugging a little helplessly, Kensi offered a weak smile. “What’s she like?”

“She’s utterly ridiculous. In the best way possibly,” Deeks replied, not having to pretend for once. “She’s a brunette, with the most amazing smile in the world, and a terrible sense of humor.”

He saw genuine hurt flash across Kensi’s face, and decided he’d gone far enough.

“Wow, that’s really amazing Deeks. I’m so happy for you,” she said, sounding devastated.

“Yeah. I forgot to mention that she’s got these crazy eyes too. Different colors and everything.” He paused, fiddling with a bit of lace as Kensi froze, tilting her head.

“Deeks,” she whispered, a note of question in her voice. He couldn’t contain his smile.

“And she’s currently sitting in front of me,” he finished softly. Kensi gaped at him for a moment, then she launched herself at him, knocking him to the floor, her lips slanting over his. He leaned up into the kiss, tangling his fingers into her hair.

“You are so mean,” Kensi murmured, punctuating each word with a kiss.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” He drew back, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes, and looked up at her. “Kensi Blye, will you go out with me?”

Kensi cupped his cheek, arching up to kiss him again. “Yes. More than anything.”

“To never be free again,” he said as Kensi drew him back down, rolling them into the long forgotten centerpieces.

***

A/N: I think I might be watching too much sappy romance stuff. Sorry if this feel a little flat at the end.

[arieysworld]

a short gay story because i wish i was a boy (pt2)

For months after the first practice, Noah and Liam fell into an easy rhythm. They’d practice soccer together after school, then linger in the quiet corners of the park where no one could see them. At first, it was innocent—sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, laughing about dumb jokes. But soon, it became more.

A brush of hands turned into fingers intertwined. A casual “see you tomorrow” turned into stolen kisses before parting ways. It was thrilling for Noah, like he’d found a secret part of himself that only Liam could understand.

But there was always an unspoken rule: never when anyone else was around.

“Why do we have to keep hiding?” Noah asked one evening as they sat beneath the trees.

Liam shrugged, looking down at the grass. “It’s just… easier this way. People wouldn’t get it.”

Noah nodded, trying to swallow the ache in his chest. He told himself it didn’t matter. Liam liked him—that was enough.

As more time passed, their dynamic became harder for Noah to ignore. Liam was all smiles and friendly jokes around their teammates, but the second anyone looked too closely, he’d pull away. Noah felt like a secret Liam didn’t want to share.

One day after practice, Liam kissed Noah goodbye in the shadows of the locker room. The moment felt too fleeting, every kiss was never enough. This time, Noah didn’t want to hold back.

“Do you even care about me?” he blurted out.

Liam froze. “What are you talking about?”

“You only act like you like me when no one’s around,” Noah said, his voice breaking. “I feel like I’m just… convenient for you.”

“That’s not true,” Liam said, but his tone was defensive, not reassuring.

Noah shook his head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Without waiting for a response, he walked out, leaving Liam standing there.

The next few weeks were brutal and empty. Noah avoided Liam at school, even on the soccer field. He thought Liam might fight for them, might try to make it right. Instead, Liam started hanging out with Mia, a bubbly girl from the volleyball team. It wasn’t long before they were officially a couple.

Noah told himself he didn’t care, but the sight of Liam laughing with Mia in the hallways crushed him. The hurt built up until it was too much to bear.

On a cold Friday night, Noah found himself at a party he hadn’t planned to attend. One of the many perks of being on the soccer team was an invite to every party.

Music thumped through the house, and the air reeked of beer and sweat. He grabbed a drink—then another—and another, letting the alcohol dull the edges of his pain.

At some point, he found himself in the kitchen, talking to Alex, a senior with a sharp smile and an easy laugh. He was known for being the infamous gay kid on the basketball team. Everybody loved him.

“You look like you need some fun,” Alex said, leaning in closer.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was his desire to feel wanted, but Noah kissed him. It was clumsy and rushed, but it felt good to be seen, to be sought after.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Noah pulled back, his face hot. Liam stood in the doorway, eyes blazing.

“What do you care?” Noah shot back, his words slurring slightly.

“Come outside,” Liam demanded, grabbing Noah’s arm.

Out in the cold night air, Noah yanked his arm free. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Liam snapped. “You’re making out with some random guy!”

Noah laughed bitterly. “Oh, so now you care who I kiss? You didn’t seem to care when I was kissing you.”

Liam flinched, his anger faltering. “That’s not fair—”

“No, what’s not fair is how you made me feel like I was nothing,” Noah interrupted, tears streaming down his face. “You couldn’t even hold my hand in public, but now you’re mad because I kissed someone who isn’t ashamed of me?”

Liam stepped closer, his voice softer. “I was scared, okay? I didn’t know how to deal with it. But seeing you with him—” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “I realized I can’t lose you.”

Noah shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest. “You already did.”

For a moment, they stood there, the tension thick between them. Then, Liam did something Noah didn’t expect. He grabbed Noah’s face and kissed him—hard and desperate, like he was trying to say everything he couldn’t with words.

The sound of cheers and whistles snapped them apart. Noah turned to see half the party crowd watching through the windows.

Liam looked at the crowd, then back at Noah. For the first time, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he took Noah’s hand and laced their fingers together.

“Let them look,” Liam said, his voice steady.

- they lived a happy life together full of white wine and say gex -

the end.

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer OT3 Week, Day Six: No One Wants To Leave The Cuddle Pile

The penultimate day of OT3 Week, courtesy of @ot3-week, and we have a fairly soft prompt to go with it -- "No one wants to leave the cuddle pile!" Because why would you? :p This one also said "Modern!AU" to me, so here we have Victor, Alice, and Smiler hanging out together at Victor's in a blanket nest. And while no one WANTS to leave the cuddle pile, a certain someone feels he HAS to... (Oh, and again, a warning for slight kinkiness at the end -- it's not even as explicit as the Day Four prompt, but the last line makes it clear where this is going. XD)

--

“I really should get up.”

“No, you really shouldn’t,” Smiler instantly retorted, snuggling their head more firmly into Victor’s chest as they continued playing phone Solitaire. In their peripheral vision, they spotted Alice put one of her legs over Victor’s, silently echoing the sentiment without looking up from her book.

“I should,” Victor insisted, though without much force behind it. “I promised my mother that I’d look at those photos she sent me of Duke Melbourne’s party, and I haven’t gotten to them yet.”

“Sod your mother,” Alice said, wriggling into Victor’s side. “I’m comfortable.”

“Same,” Smiler agreed, glancing up at Victor’s – well, mostly his chin from this angle. “We spent a half-hour getting this pillow nest together, and I’m not getting up until I’m good and ready.”

“I didn’t say either of you two had to get up,” Victor pointed out, poking Smiler’s nose. “I’m certainly not going to make you look at the probably twelve million pictures she’s sent me. But she’s expecting me to fake enthusiasm for her little trip in an e-mail before the day’s out, so...”

“It’s not that late,” Alice said, finally looking up. “At least, I don’t think so. Smiler?”

Smiler glanced at the top of their phone screen. “Only 5 PM,” they confirmed. “You’ve got plenty of time to pretend to be excited she got invited to a party you don’t care about.”

“I – I don’t know,” Victor muttered, unwrapping his arm from Alice’s shoulders to rub the back of his head – Alice pouted at the loss. “If I don’t respond to her in time, she’ll send me another e-mail about how electronic post isn’t supposed to get lost, and then it’ll become a whole thing, and – I should get it over with.”

“How about you stay here instead, and after supper, I’ll help you set up a form e-mail that’ll automatically mail itself to her a couple of hours after she sends you one of her ‘you won’t believe who I saw throwing up in a gold toilet’ photoshoots?” Smiler offered. “She’ll never notice you keep saying the exact same things for each party, right?”

“You really could – no,” Victor cut himself off, shaking his head. “I should at least make some effort. And I know neither of you think much of her attention span in regards to me–”

“Or her in general,” Alice added, recapturing his arm and wrapping it around herself.

“Of course – but she probably would at least eventually notice that it’s the same e-mail each time. And that would be...” He grimaced. “Bad.”

“You’re a grown man living on your own,” Alice pointed out. “She can’t do that much to you anymore.”

“Unless she comes barging over here to demand what I’m on about,” Victor muttered. “And if I think I’m funny and don’t I care about how our family is perceived and why am I always like this and...”

“Okay, yeah, let’s avoid her actually showing up in person,” Smiler agreed, grimacing. “But come on, the e-mail can wait until after supper. Just pretend you were giving all the pictures an extra-close look.”

“You can bullshit her anytime,” Alice agreed, still hanging onto his arm. “Stay?”

Victor pulled some faces, and for a moment Smiler was sure he was about to give in...and then what they’d privately dubbed the “familial bullshit” frown crossed his face, and he sighed. “I r-really should just do it now,” he mumbled, reluctantly pulling his arm free from Alice’s grip. “At least – pretend to be a good son.”

Smiler frowned, then looked over at Alice as Victor continued untangling himself from them. She met their eyes, then nodded once. Smiler nodded back and sat up, ending their Solitaire game and moving over to Photos. From there, it was just a matter of flicking through their collection of gifs until they found the right one –

And then, just as Victor made to stand up, grabbing Victor’s wrist and saying, gently but firmly, “Open your heart to joy, Victor.”

Victor jerked to a stop, eyes wide – and then the trigger actually hit him, and his gaze took on a familiar muzzy look. “Oh, that’s not fair,” he complained, voice already dulling.

“Wouldn’t work if you didn’t want it to,” Smiler sing-songed, tugging Victor backwards.

“Indeed,” Alice agreed, lightly pushing on Victor’s chest to help topple him over. “Now lie down on the pillows again, there’s a good boy...I think Smiler has something special for you to watch, don’t they?”

“Yup – your favorite,” Smiler confirmed, holding the looping gif of the twin spinning spirals right in front of Victor’s face. His eyes immediately locked onto the screen, and Smiler saw his shoulders sag into the pillows just a little bit more. “Let the spirals empty out your head now, Victor. Let them drain away all those worries, all those cares, all that everything that was stopping you from relaxing and enjoying yourself. Let it all go. No more thoughts for now, Victor. No more thoughts. No thoughts...”

“...just smiles,” Victor responded, his lips lifting into a beautifully silly grin as the trance took full hold.

“That’s right,” Alice nodded, shooting Smiler a pleased smirk before curling up by Victor’s side and stroking his hair. “No thoughts, just smiles.”

“Just smiles,” Smiler agreed, getting themselves into a slightly more comfortable position as well –

And then they grinned, and rested a hand on Victor’s thigh. “Well. Maybe a little more than just smiles...”

[stranger-marauders]

i could never let you go

three: lay all your love on me mamma mia! au

chapter summary: After meeting Steve, Eddie, and Jonathan, Lena seeks help from her fiancé.

chapter warnings: language probably, absent father things, use of y/n probably, making out

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist | masterlist

After getting Steve, Eddie, and Jonathan situated in a room, Lena had gone to the beach to tell Leo what she’d done before his bachelorette party.

She knew how selfish that logic sounded. She wanted to tell her fiancé about what she’d done before he went to his own bachelorette party because of her own screw-up. She didn’t know what to do about her three potential fathers, especially now that they’d told her that you knew of their arrival on the island. She was horrified about what you were going to say to her about the three men whenever she saw you next, especially if she figured out that you were the reason why her potential fathers were here. Lena had always wanted to meet her father, but now that she was facing the repercussions of trying to find him, she couldn’t do it on her own. Because of that, she knew she had to find her fiancé before he left for his bachelor party.

Leo had been her rock for a long, long time. Whenever anything bad had happened, Leo had been the first one to fix it. Over the past couple of years, he had even been able to help you out some around your property, alleviating your stress about the villa. It had been the first time that Lena had ever seen you destress, or at least stop stressing as much as you did before whenever you didn’t have any help. 

That was one of the reasons why Lena loved him so much. Since she had met him, he had done everything in his power since she’d met him to make things better for you and her. In a way, you and Lena had become his family much before there was ever talk of a wedding, and Leo hadn’t ever denied such a claim. He had done so much in the three years that she’d known him and that was something she couldn’t look over.

That also meant, however, that Leo was extremely protective over Lena and her well-being.

Lena knew that Leo was going to be upset with her no matter what she said, and that was something she’d accepted about a month ago. She’d talked about the desire to find her father with him multiple times in the last three years, but every single time, Leo had tried to talk her out of it. Very similarly to you, Leo simply wanted the best for Lena, and she knew that. Leo, however, had a father, and that was a man that he had no desire to ever see again. Lena hadn’t ever been given the opportunity to make that decision about her father.

She knew deep down, though, that no matter how she explained the situation to Leo that he wouldn’t like it. Deep down, she knew that was the reason why she hadn’t talked to him about it yet. Lena had been pushing it off as long as possible because she didn’t want him to talk her out of inviting them, that or risk the possibility of him getting upset with her because she’d done such a thing.

Instead, she now ran the risk of not knowing what his response would be only a day before the wedding, risking everything that she’d worked for in the last three years with him.

“Wait, don’t go!” Lena said, trying to stop him as she ran down to him on the beach. 

“What? And miss out on my last night of freedom?” Leo asked.

“I don’t mean ‘don’t go’ completely, I mean…” Lena then realized what her fiancé said. “Is that how you really see it?”

“Uh… See it?” he asked, seeming confused. “I see it as the last night… before the biggest adventure of my life.”

“Nice save.”

“Oh, come here,” Leo said, pulling her into his embrace. 

For the first time since she’d met her fathers, Lena felt her body and mind physically relax again. It was almost like the stress of everything going on went away for just a moment, just long enough where she could catch her breath. For just a moment, she just wanted to run away with him, leave all of the white wedding nonsense behind and just run away and elope like he’d always wanted to do. Lena knew, however, that she would never forgive herself if she did such a thing. She had to go through with this wedding, especially after all the time, money, and planning that had gone into it.

“You okay? You seem off.”

Even though she knew she had to come clean, Lena didn’t know exactly how to tell him what she’d done. It made her stomach just thinking about how he was going to respond to her. She regretted not telling him about it first, or at least warning him about her plan. Not only did she have to worry about you finding out about how the three men on the island got there in the first place, but she had to worry about what Leo thought, too. If she told him now, at least he might be willing to help her out of this mess.

“You know how I’ve always said I wanted to find my dad?”

He sighed. “We’ve been through this a thousand times, Lena. You don’t need your dad. I’m right here, okay?”

“Yeah.”

While she hadn’t thought too thoroughly about what he would say whenever he found out what she’d done, she knew that it wasn’t going to be the answer she wanted to hear. If anything, his words would be the exact opposite of that. He had always told her about how having a father wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, especially with having a mom like you. That was something that he hadn’t had in his youth growing up in Chicago. Neither of his parents cared about him in the slightest, and that was something that he’d known almost his entire life. He hadn’t even spoken to them since he’d left for Pinestead Island about three years ago now. Leo hadn’t even bothered inviting any of his family to the wedding, all because he didn’t care about any of them anymore. They weren’t his family, and they hadn’t been for a long time. The only people that he cared about were Lena and you.

Lena figured that was why he didn’t think she needed to find out who her father was. Sometimes learning who your parents were was much more damaging than exciting. What if her father hadn’t ever come around because he wanted nothing to do with you and Lena? What if he was actually a deadbeat that you hadn’t ever told her about because it was better for her to not know rather than to break her heart? The possibilities were endless, and most of the scenarios ended with Lena’s heartbroken and a shithead for a dad. 

With that in mind, Leo thought there was no room for a father in Lena’s life after twenty years of not having one. That was why she had no idea how to tell him what she’d done.

In all fairness, it did turn out that Lena’s potential fathers weren’t actually that bad. The worst thing that any of them had done, of course, was when Steve used you as a mistress that summer. While Lena thought that was terrible, it wasn’t like he actively chose to forget about you and his daughter. That was actually the case for all three potential fathers that Lena had: none of them had had the opportunity to know that she existed. 

That mindset was the only reason Lena hadn’t given up on trying to tell Leo yet and she managed to stay hopeful that he would actually help her.

“Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens, you’ll never leave me, will you?” she asked.

“Are you crazy?” Leo asked, pulling away to look at her. “You’ve turned my world upside down.”

Lena smiled. “Really? Upside down?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I’m going through this whole wedding thing for you?”

That was something she knew that he wasn’t too fond of, either. Whenever they’d gotten engaged, Leo hadn’t wanted the traditional white wedding that she had wanted to have. He hadn’t ever made it a secret, especially whenever talking to you, his future mother-in-law about it, and she knew that, but that was all Lena wanted. Not only would it let her prove her love to him, but she thought it would give her an opportunity to find her father.

“I just thought that was because you loved me.”

“That I do, Darlene,” Leo said, emphasizing the name as he took her into his embrace once again.

“Oh, so you’re government naming me, now?”

“I think it’s deserved.”

Before Lena could reply, he pulled her into a kiss, making her relax a bit. Kissing Leo always made her head fuzzy, even after all these years. That was why she couldn’t help but forget to tell him about her three potential fathers and instead let him lay her down on the sand deepening the kiss as he kept his weight off of her. 

God, she loved him. She was so intoxicated with him that she didn’t mind the sand that was going to be all in her hair now, meaning she’d have to wash it again before her bachelorette party tonight. She didn’t mind that it was still light outside because the sun hadn’t set yet, that quite literally anyone could have seen them if they came down to the beach. She didn’t mind that he was currently pulling down her shorts, almost like he was ready to take her on that beach right then and there.

It wouldn’t have been the first time.

Before Leo could do anything substantial, he could hear Eric and Pepper in the distance, making him quickly pull Lena’s shorts back up and rebutton them, then pull her out of the sand. By the time the two groomsmen reached the two of them, it was almost like nothing had happened between Leo and Lena. Almost.

Instead of acknowledging whatever their best friend had been doing, Eric and Pepper instead started to try putting him into his wetsuit. Of course, Leo immediately started to try and fight them off, laughing as he did so.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Sorry, dude, but it’s an island tradition. You see, the night before the wedding, the groom dives down to the old shipwreck just off the shore and tries to find something of value for the wedding,” Eric said.

“Then, a charmed union for he who discovers something fancy enough for the bride,” Pepper added. “I think Lena won’t be too difficult to please.”

“Hope not,” Leo said. “If it’s a tradition, then there’s probably not much on that ship left. I’d have to bring back bones or something.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she won’t mind,” Pepper replied. “I mean, why marry the first guy that comes along if she wouldn’t be easy to please?”

Lena laughed in disbelief as Leo shoved Pepper in response. “Okay, ouch. I’ve been in a couple relationships, okay? Those guys just weren’t anything compared to my Leo.”

Even if she meant it more as a comeback, she wasn’t wrong. Lena had dated a few of the boys on the island in her youth, but none of them were good. Most of the time, all they wanted to do was go out on their boats and or fuck, and Lena was interested in much more than that. Leo had been the much-needed change in her life. She never thought she’d ever meet someone that completed her as perfectly as he did.

“You’re both so disgusting it’s almost cute,” Eric replied. “All right, come on, dude, we gotta get going. The rest of the guys are already on the boat.”

“Love you,” Leo said, taking her into his embrace once again and kissing her.

“Be safe,” Lena replied, only watching him as he went on the dock with the rest of his groomsmen.

As she watched him join his bachelor party with the rest of his groomsmen, she could only hope that you and Leo would forgive her for Steve, Eddie, and Jonathan staying on that very island for the wedding, that and that anything that happened in the next day would be completely her fault.

next chapter

[copiousloverofcopia]

Back with something for the Goore Whores!!!!!

Here is the next chapter of Under the Spell with Mary Goore and OC Piper!

Thank you to everyone sticking it out with me and letting me get content out as I can. I really appreciate all the love, support, and the patience from you all!

Also once again, please be nice I am SO not used to writing for Mary, so I hope its ok!

Also thank you to the lovely @gothdaddyissues for the awesome dividers.

Piper and Mary have been best friends since they first met as children. When Mary and her boyfriend Sid asked her to come along on gigs, Piper thought it was a no-brainer. But as the excitement of the buzzing amps dies down, she realizes she wants more—now if only she can get him to agree.

Chapter 4: This Party's a Drag

Also available HERE on AO3! Haven’t started yet? Start from the beginning HERE!

Definitely NSFW below the cut

The stale smell of cigarettes, and low fluorescent lighting, made Piper's head ache. Rubbing at her temples as she tried to make herself comfortable on the sofa, in the middle of an unfamiliar apartment. The old thing had been stained with countless spills—beer and other unknown splotches. All of which Piper couldn’t help but stare at as she sat in the middle of the party. 

It was thrown by some of Tom’s old buddies, ones they’d had happened to run into at the gig the night before. One thing had led to another, and the old friends ended up inviting the band and the girls over to their small, gather grungy flat to come hang out. Hoping to have a good time throwin ‘em back while blasting out the locals with the old stereo system. Filling the night with the likes of Metallica and Ministry, couples with an array of underground rock that had been making its way around the area. 

Piper was doing anything but enjoying herself. She couldn't shake the feeling of being on edge ever since waking up without Mary. Secretly she hoped that the cops would come break the party up. Citing a disregard for the city's noise ordinance and telling them they were disturbing the peace. Unfortunately for her it was a situation that would never come. 

Instead, she was left to sit, staring neurotically at stains and thinking about things between her and Mary. It had been a little over two weeks since the two of them had consummated their deal, and yet neither one of them had said much to each other since. She could see him mingling across the room. Mary as usual was pulling out the charm. It was no surprise that all the women at the party had been intrigued by him. He was mysterious and a little dangerous truth be told.  

It was, however, a surprise to Piper how much it bothered her. In all this time she had been privy to Mary’s sex life—though only now directly, she never gave it a second thought. Hearing the sounds coming from paper thin walls in cheap motels and the giggles, heard just outside of bathroom stalls. Sounds that would normally have her rolling her eyes, now had even the thought of them sending her head pounding harder. The suggestion of tears lingering behind her squinting eyes as she tried her best to ignore everything until they could leave. 

“Hey doll, you doin’ alright?” Annie said, plopping down beside her. Exhausted from her having no doubt having talked everyone’s ear off. She too was always so lively at parties. Piper was a bit surprised she had noticed that she wasn’t knee deep in conversation about one thing or another with a group of would-be lovers or a bunch of envious chicks. Piper was impressed that she seemed to have grown up a lot since getting with Tom.

“I’m fine Annie, just a little tired.” Piper told her, “...maybe a little headache if I am being honest.” 

“Oh no Piper…why don't you have a beer or something. Might help you relax a bit.” she suggested, trying to hand over the caramel-colored bottle nested in her left hand. The label had long dissolved from the condensation, and it was more than half gone, but still a nice gesture to make. 

“I don't think so. I’m not really in the mood.” Piper declined, shaking her head as she politely rejected Annie’s offering. The two of them, sitting quietly beside one another as Piper continued counting down every second until they could finally leave.

Mary was thrilled to be out of hotel rooms for the night. Excited to be at a legit party, someplace where he didn't have to work or perform for the accommodations. He immediately found a good spot once they arrived. Perching himself on the ledge from the cutout in the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. Tom, Sid, and Carlos were all chatting it up and getting piss drunk. Not an uncommon occurrence for sure but it was nice to get to spend some down time hanging out with Tom’s old friends.  

For Mary, the night was going well, at least in the beginning. He had spent the evening flirting with a couple of random women, only to dismiss them before anything could come of it. His usual appetite for a bit of debauchery with a side on lust not calling to him like it normally had. Finding that his mind was never far from Piper. Sneaking peeks over to her as she sat quietly on the sofa. The adorable, and adeptly nicknamed, “annoyed Piper face” on full display.

He smiled to himself to see her there. Realizing as the clock ticked on that she was more than likely reaching her max. Mary had himself been only moments away from suggesting they all head back to the hotel. He finished off his beer, tossing the bottle into the black trash bin and jumped down off the ledge just as he saw Annie take a seat next to Piper.

He couldn’t make out what they had been saying. The sound, blasting from the speakers was almost as loud as it was in the venues during their shows. What he could tell, however, sent his mind spinning. Annie offered Piper a drink, and she without hesitation turned it down.  

He knew things had changed between them. Ever since that night, Piper had been quieter than normal. Mary, chalking it up to her being cautious, trying to hide what they were up to from the rest of the gang. He decided not to pry, knowing when she was ready again she would find him. Or maybe it was more that he was scared to be alone with her again. 

That night had forever changed things between them and although he had been refusing to fully admit it—Mary was in love. Seeing her now, passing up a chance to drink, in a situation he could tell she was uncomfortable, made him wonder. Had it been long enough? Did Piper already know if she was knocked up?

He became filled with that same emotion he seldom, if ever, had felt. Instantly possessive and protective, he wanted to rush over to her and take her home. Shelter her from the rowdy crowd and all the potential asshole guys who might come her way. Pressing his lips to hers before she’d finally confess to him that she was having his baby. 

The mere thought of it sent a thrill throughout his body. A tingling, excitement that made all the little hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up. The same feeling he got when he found the perfect chord or just the right riff to play off of. It amazed him that in all this time when Piper had been just beside him, he had never realized how much she truly meant to him. 

All he could think of now was running to her. Scooping her up in his arms and celebrating their victory with a round of fucking up against a wall. His mouth, watering at the thought of it. His eyes fixed on Piper for a moment before she finally locked sights back on him. Both of them quickly looked away, hoping the other hadn’t actually noticed.  

“Hey uh…Tom man, you think you’re about ready to head out? Looks like it might be gettin' to that time.” Mary said, looking back over to Piper who was being oh so careful not to look back at him.

“Uh yeah man, give me about 10 and I’m gonna let Tobe know.” Tom replied, Mary nodding his head a bit to let him know he heard him.

“Piper what's wrong, you don’t look so good.” Annie told her, worried about her friend. Piper took in a deep breath. Puffing out her cheeks as she exhaled. Thinking maybe it would help if she didn’t have to think about things alone. 

“Annie…Mary and I…” she began, struggling with herself on whether or not to continue. 

“What?” Annie said, eyes growing wide as her mind filled with all the obvious possibilities. “No way you slut.” she continued playfully. 

“Shhh… keep your voice down…and it's not like that.” Piper assured her, knowing the real situation was far more interesting than what Annie had conjured. 

“Then what is it like?” she asked, wiggling her brows. Mindful to keep her voice down. 

“I asked him to help me with something. Something I have been thinking about for a while and he agreed…but.”

“But what? Piper, you aren’t making any sense.” 

“I asked him to help me have a baby.” Piper blurted out, watching for any sign of reaction in Piper’s eyes. Her friend, growing uncomfortably silent as she looked away, staring down at the place between her heels on the floor.

“A baby? Like a baby, baby?” 

“Yes Annie, what the Hell else do you think I mean? I asked him to help me cause I wanted want with someone I knew, and I don't wanna keep going out with losers or fucking narcs like Sid just to never have one.”

“So, you convinced Mary of all people to have one?” Annie asked, more in shock about that fact than anything else. Annie sneaking a glance over to Mary and wondering to herself how she hadn’t noticed anything before now. 

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything…but.” Piper started, realizing what she was about to say. But it was already too late Annie knew what had happened.

“Oh, shit Piper, you fell for him didn’t you?” Annie asked when suddenly Piper began to feel sick to her stomach. Immediately wondering if the churning in her gut was more about nerves than any realistic evidence that she’d conceived the spawn of Mary. 

“I gotta go, I think I'm gonna be sick.” Piper told her, excusing herself. Heading to find the bathroom before she would insist on them leaving. Before she could be alone to explain things to Annie in private. As the wave of nausea subsided, she began to panic a bit as she realized what was actually about to happen.

When she finally found the bathroom, the familiar feeling had already begun to hit her. Rushing over to the porcelain god and tearing off her stockings as fast as she could manage. Letting out a heavy sigh when her suspicions were confirmed. Blood, fresh and bright red staining her otherwise purple panties. 

“Fuck.” she uttered, her head pounding even harder as the pang of pain lingered in the hollow of her belly and the small of her back. 

Mary had convinced himself Piper was pregnant. Deciding that he didn’t care if Tom was ready to leave or not. He was outta there—and taking Piper with him. When he left the kitchen he rushed over to Annie, now sitting alone on the couch. The empty spot beside her, still warm from Piper when he spoke. 

“Annie, where is Pipes?” he asked, clearly distressed at not finding her there. Annie smiled up at him. A glint of mischievousness in her eye. It was clear to Mary she knew more than he realized.

“She went to find the bathroom.” Annie explained. Mary taking off immediately to find her, “oh and Mary.” she continued, watching as Mary turned back to face her. 

“If you want my opinion…I think it’s great and I’m happy for yah.” Annie smiled. Mary nodding as he continued on.

The night couldn’t get any worse, she thought as Piper sat on the porcelain bowl. Head buried in her hands, unsure if she was crying from the anger at Mary or at the fact that it had all been for nothing. Her period had come and she was back to the same emptiness she felt before only this time things had changed between her and Mary forever. Piper, cursing herself for ever having come up with the idea. Wishing she could turn back time and never ask—all the while still wishing that it had been different. 

“I should have fucking known better.” Piper hissed into the room. Tossing her bag onto the sink. Angry that she hadn’t even bothered to bring a tampon. Wondering to herself had she really been stupid enough to believe it would work the first time, when the door cracked open.

“Know better about what?” Mary asked her. Appearing like an apparition in the doorway. Sneaking up on her long enough to have seen her deep in tears.

“It's nothing.” she insisted, wrapping up a wad of toilet paper in her hand. Throwing a hint at him to leave, but he didn’t. Piper looked up from her lap, seeing Mary looking more concerned than she could remember ever seeing him. Even after her parents passed and he consoled her, he didn’t have such a look of compassion.

“Nothing? Are you sure?” He asked her, clearly not at all convinced.  

“Yeah…I’m sure.” she replied when Mary caught sight of the bloodied underwear that hung between her legs. 

“Oh, shit Pipes, you're bleeding! Is the baby ok?” Mary shrieked, dropping to his knees before her on the cold tile floor. 

“Mary, it’s ok…I'm not pregnant.” 

[dominimoonbeam]

The Truth In Your Skin

Chapter 3 is a sweet holiday party! @taelonsamada gave me the idea since I was struggling with fluff ideas for Solstice Week.

I also added a slow burn tag to this fic because David/Darlin are inching along...

-

The Truth In Your Skin - 3

posted here and over on ao3.

Darlin stood in the bathroom at the bar and tried not to think about crawling out the window and making a run for it. No. No. They were not chicken. They had shown up, they would stay.

Oh god, but it had been so hard to show up. It had been so hard to get out of their car and walk into that fantastic dive of a bar decked out with an assortment of cheap holiday decorations.

Asher’s eyes had about bugged out of his head when he saw them, almost falling out of his chair when he got up. Sweetheart had pointed and laughed at him like he might as well have. There was no going back then. And there was no climbing out the window now.

They washed their hands and went back out. David and Milo had arrived, filling out the table with a seat left for them. At least it was in the corner. At least they didn’t have to wedge into a booth and deal with that trapped feeling.

They’d only been working at the shop for a couple of months but it was the season and they had always got together at the same bar on the same night afterwork ever since it opened. Tradition. How could they blow that off? What if they took it as a sign that Darlin didn’t want to work with them? That they were never going to say yes to any of the weekly invites Asher or Milo threw their way?

They hadn’t said yes to any of them. They had stopped saying no though. They shrugged and sometimes say maybe. They really meant that maybe the last couple times too. They wanted to go almost as much as they didn’t want to go. They didn’t used to shy away from people before. They weren’t this person.

Maybe that was what had convinced them to push themselves into going to this get together? Plus it was out in public and not at anyone’s house.

Darlin sat down at the round table between Asher and Sweetheart. Sweetheart pushed a beer in front of them but never broke off in their tirade about…cranberries?

“It’s the disrespect!” Sweetheart thumped their hand on the table, earning a few curious looks from strangers but no one in the conversation seemed the least bit surprised. Milo was practically mooning over them, while Asher rolled his eyes.

“No one likes cranberries, get over it!” Asher said.

Darlin touched the beer, turning it back and forth. They looked up, half listening, and realized David was sitting across from them. For a split second, they met his gaze. His eyes were so dark and so unreadable. He looked away first and Darlin was grateful.

“How dare you!” Sweetheart gasped.

Milo tried not to smile but failed miserably. The conversation descended into a plate-by-plate judgement of holiday dishes, branching out into different family traditions, and somehow returning to a heated argument about whether cranberries really deserved their place at the table.

“If it was so fucking good, why would we only eat it once a year, Sweets?” Asher demanded, his voice raised in mock fury.

David hid a smile behind the lip of his beer.

“Asher…Are you about to tell me that pumpkin pie is shit because it’s seasonal?”

Asher thumped his beer down and jerked his chair back. “You shut your mouth…”

Milo leaned back to catch Darlin’s eye around Sweetheart. “Asher’s a slut for pumpkin spice.”

“Asher’s a slut for everything,” Asher countered, offended.

Sweetheart smirked, leaning back in their chair. “Speaking of, how is that hot guy you’ve been working on?”

Asher blinked.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” David helped.

Sweetheart laughed, draining their beer before sliding to their feet. “You know which one, Ash…”

Asher continued to look innocent. Darlin wasn’t sure how he did that when he definitely wasn’t innocent. Just in the time they’d been working at the shop, they’d noticed how Asher flirted and how many people stopped by just to say hi to him or ask him out. It seemed that just about every time he left work on a date, it was with a different person. And yet, even Darlin was pretty sure they knew which one of his clients Sweetheart was referring to.

“I don’t sleep with my clients,” Asher said with a shrug.

Sweetheart grinned wolfishly. “Which is to say, you’re not done with that back piece of his yet…”

Asher looked away like he hadn’t heard that, but Darlin saw the hint of color creeping high on his cheekbones. Or maybe that was the glow of Christmas lights?

Sweetheart hummed and Milo rose from his chair, the two leaving the table to make their way across the room to the bar.

“Want to know how tonight is going to play out?”

Darlin tensed, the ghost of a voice echoing Asher’s in their head. “Want to know what’s going to happen tonight, Misfit?”

Darlin swallowed the beer in their mouth, eyes flicking over Asher’s face. Not Quinn. Not an ounce of malice in those bright eyes. They nodded once.

Asher’s smile grew and he tipped his beer to point toward the bar. “Milo is going to keep nursing that beer he’s holding, even though he’s nowhere near his limit and Sweetheart is going to drink more than they usually would, just a step past tipsy. And then Sweetheart will either start a bar fight or get sleepy and ask Milo to get them home.”

Darlin watched the two at the bar. Sweetheart was getting shots and Milo was at their side, the two in an endless conversation that Darlin wasn’t sure had stopped since they met the two.

“But first Sweetheart is going to push a couple rounds of shots. How do you hold tequila?”

Darlin shrugged and took another sip of their beer.

 -

 David watched Darlin work on the same beer for over an hour, even after tossing back the tequila shot Sweetheart had handed them. He was worried they’d feel pressured to drink because Sweetheart and Asher were going hard, but they seemed fine and no one pointed out their pace or tried to shove another drink their way.

The bar got louder as more people flowed in and their table crowded with empties. Darlin stood up at one point and David thought they’d leave, but instead they pulled their hoodie off. When they did, it pulled their t-shirt up their stomach for a few seconds. A flash of skin. The lush strokes of a tattoo over their left side, curling from ribs and lower, from their hip. He didn’t know if it was traveling up or down their body. He didn’t get much of a look, even in those seconds, because the sharp, hard lines of another tattoo poked out from the hem on the right side of their stomach, like pieces of broken black teeth reaching for the top of their jeans. It didn’t fit. Even at a glance, he could tell that work didn’t belong with all the delicate lines and watercolor splashes on their arm and neck. Those edges looked rough and rushed.

Darlin pulled their shirt back down into place and dropped their hoodie over the back of their chair, sitting back down. Asher whistled and nudged his chin at them. “This looks like your work. Did you do all of it?” He asked Darlin about their arm now that they were in a short sleeve and most of it was finally visible.

David knew Asher would have normally reached out and touched the arm. He was a contact person. But he didn’t, because he was also the sort of person who paid attention to people and nothing about Darlin had invited any of them to get handsy.

Darlin looked momentarily confused before realizing what he was on about and nodding. They held out their arm casually enough. “Yeah.”

Asher leaned in, honestly interested. He lifted a hand. “Can I?”

Darlin shrugged, picking up their beer with their free hand. Asher took their arm by the elbow, turning it this way and that to get a look at the intersecting designs that traveled from between the blades of their fingers, over the back of their hand, and then all the way up their arm to the side of their neck.

David’s hand flexed under the table, wishing he was the one touching that arm but not wanting to think about why. Definitely just because it was a chance to get a close up look at some good work…

They hadn’t used any of those tattoos in their portfolio. Did they really not think they were good enough or did they not want to take pictures of themself?

“You really did all this on yourself?” Sweetheart asked. David could tell they were resisting the urge to lean in on Darlin too, not wanting to crowd them.

“Yeah. Downtime gets boring.”

David couldn’t help but notice how naked their right arm looked. Not a single tattoo on their dominant arm. Because they couldn’t do it themselves? Had anyone else ever tattooed them anywhere? His mind strayed back to the hard edges of ink he’d glimpsed but he shook it off and finished his beer.

He got up to go get a new one, forcing himself not to stare and study the tattoos on Darlin’s skin, no matter how much he wanted to—no matter how much he’d wanted to since he first saw them walk into his shop.

“Me too!” Sweetheart shouted over the sounds of the bar at his back.

David tossed an arm up so they’d know he heard and not keep shouting. He wedged through the crowd thick at the bar and waited, still thinking about Darlin’s skin. He shouldn’t be. He knew that. Just like he shouldn’t be watching them work as much as he found himself doing. They relaxed when they were working, focus fixed and shoulders finally easing.

He tongued the ring in his lip, thinking about that knot of tissue on Darlin’s mouth and the scar on their cheek.

A body pressed to his back and an arm curled over his shoulder. He knew it was Asher just by the weight of him leaning against him. And maybe because who else would be that audaciously familiar with him? “Have you ordered?” he asked.

David shook his head, nudging his chin toward the bartender dealing with a group on the other side of the bar.

“Great! Order Sweets and cranberry juice?”

David raised an eyebrow and looked at his friend practically resting his chin on his shoulder. “Just juice?”

Asher nodded, grinning. “Yeah. They’d like it if it had liquor in it. Just juice.”

He nodded and when the bartender did come their way, he ordered two beers and a glass of cranberry juice.

“Are you mad?” Asher asked, voice quieter. David only even heard him because they were so close.

David jerked a little in surprise, looking at his best friend. “What?”

Asher smiled but there was a hint of doubt in the turn of his lips. “I wasn’t flirting with them.”

David stared. He had never once gotten mad at Asher for flirting with anyone. Not when they were teens, not when he had absolute shit taste, not in the shop, not fucking ever. Asher never crossed a line—he never flirted in a way that bothered the person he was talking to. “What the fuck are you—”

“Darlin,” Asher said.

David felt heat climb his neck and his whole body tensed. Asher knew. He knew something David wasn’t even willing to know yet. “I don’t care.”

Asher stared at him. No smile. His weight left David when he straightened. Finally he exhaled, lips quirking again. “Really?” He sounded like he might be taking it as a challenge, but also like he was a little disappointed.

David looked away. He grabbed the drinks the bartender had put down.

Asher knew.

Knew what, exactly?

He turned and handed Asher the class of cranberry juice, but didn’t let go when his friend took it. Their eyes met again. “I don’t know,” he said, amending his previous claim of “I don’t care” that neither of them were buying. Asher nodded at that, accepting it, but David added. “I am never going to be mad at you for being you.”

Asher’s eyes widened a little and the edges of his smile softened.

David let go of the glass and they walked back to the table.

Sweetheart was arguing with Milo over something neither of them really cared about, the conversation breaking when Sweetheart reached for the glass Ash had slid in front of them. They blinked at it, eyes already a little glassy from a couple shots. “What—” they broke off when they realized what it must be, gaze snapping up to Asher across the table from them.

“Your favorite.” Asher grinned big and went back to his beer.

Sweetheart flipped him off and then downed the whole glass in a few swallows.

Darlin laughed. It was the smallest laugh, smothered under the ruckus of the bar, but he was sure everyone at their table heard it like a bell ringing on the stillest night. Darlin had never laughed in front of any of them.

Milo was quick to kick up another mock argument before Darlin could realize they had all paused to notice it.

The night played out more or less the way Asher had predicted. Asher went home with someone who had been making eyes at him from the bar for the last half hour. He’d go back to their apartment. He usually did, if they even made it that far.

Eventually Milo scooped Sweetheart up over his shoulder and they all headed out. He promised to get them home safely, like anyone had ever doubted it.

And then it was just David and Darlin.

“Do you want a ride?” they asked, flicking a ring of keys against their palm.

They had their hoodie back on and their gaze meeting his for increasing stretches of seconds at a time. The air was making clouds between them when they breathed. It might snow.

It wasn’t so far that David couldn’t just walk it, but he suddenly didn’t want to. “Do you mind?”

Darlin huffed, almost a smile, almost a laugh. “Wouldn’t have offered if I minded…” they started toward their car. David stuffed his hands into his pockets and followed.

He was used to his truck, used to driving himself if he rode anywhere, so sitting low and in the passenger seat was odd. But sitting in their passenger seat felt extraordinary. It was their space. It smelled like them. It was honestly cleaner than he’d expected. A couple jackets and hoodies tossed in the backseat with a charger and a bottle of nail polish rolling around on the floor.

Darlin started the engine and he bit back a smirk at the rubber duck stuck to the dashboard.

Darlin noticed his attention on it and rolled their eyes, pulling out of the parking lot. “It was there when I bought the car,” they said.

“Sure,” David agreed not to ask, still smirking.

The drive was short. He wished it had been longer. He thanked them and got out.

They waited until he was inside his building to leave, and he almost laughed at that.

It started snowing.

[lassosblue]

TED X READER FIC: Pool Party (established relationship)

Content warning: discussion of body image

On paper, everything was perfect. It was one of the rare sunny days England had been allocated per year, you’d had a couple of ice cold lemonades and Ted had promised you home made pizza. But the obstacle remained.

The pool. Your swimsuit. Your brain couldn’t move past it. You sighed as you looked at yourself in the mirror, a small frown on your face. Shit. You’d never worn a bikini before, and this one was… revealing. Keeley had picked it out with you and you’d trusted her counsel. She knew more about this sort of thing, anyway.

Beautiful, poised Keeley. Naturally pretty Keeley. Keeley who didn’t need to scrutinise herself in the mirror before every social interaction.

It was her event you were preparing for — a pool party she’d set up, a chance to chat to her pals from her modelling days to see if they might be interested in working on some new brand deals she’d pulled in for her firm.

You’d been hesitant about accepting her invitation. You weren’t really keen on pool parties, didn’t enjoy swimming much and didn’t have anything suitable to wear. Keeley had managed to persuade you by helping you find a new swimsuit and asking you to bring Ted, too. The latter had been a substantial factor in swaying you.

For the six months you had been Ted’s girlfriend, he had been nothing but a calming and reliable presence in your life. He let you know on a daily basis how much he adored you. The mere thought of him singing your praises brought a blush to your cheeks.

“Hon?” Ted called, poking his head around the doorframe. He was decked out in a Mickey Mouse T-shirt and red swim shorts. They looked good on him. “Are you ready to head out to the pool?” he asked, rubbing your shoulder.

“Umm. About that.” You answered, looking down at your flip-flops. “Can I borrow one of your shirts? I’m kinda regretting this swimsuit. Bit of an impulse purchase,” you laughed nervously.

Ted stepped forward immediately, taking your hands in his large, warm ones. “Darling, look at me,” he said softly, “you can always borrow my clothes, but why the second thoughts about your new kit here? Did something happen?” he asked so earnestly you thought you might cry.

“No…” you trailed off, not able to hold eye contact for very long. “I don’t like the way I… look… in this,” you gestured broadly at your body, hovering over your midsection. The thought of the models outside scared you — you knew they’d never say anything mean, but you couldn’t help but feel woefully unprepared, despite the body acceptance work you’d been doing over the past few weeks. You thought you’d gotten to a pretty comfortable place - helped along by Ted’s doting manner - but the pool party and the skimpy swimsuit and all the attention felt like too much, too soon.

“Oh honey,” Ted sighed, standing up to his full height to pull you close against his chest. Your head was resting against his collarbone and you could hear the boomBOOM of his heart. It was very comforting. “We don’t have to go out there, darling. We can go home. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I wanna help, hon.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I want you to know,” Ted continued, “I think you are so very, very beautiful. Inside and out. You’re the stuff of my dreams. I want you to be able to see that one day too, but I understand if you’re not quite there yet. That’s okay. You’re learnin’. I’m proud of you.” He wrapped his arms around you.

“Sweetheart? Can you give me a chance to show you what I see? In the mirror? I don’t wanna convince you to go out there or anythin’. I just wanna help. Sound ok?”

You nodded, knowing Ted would never push you to do something you didn’t want to do.

Ted stood behind you, your legs between his, and put his hands on your hips. His chin was resting in the junction between your neck and shoulder. “Look at us,” he breathed, “conquerin’ the world together.” He smiled. “You make me so happy, sweetheart. I want you to be happy, too. I want you to see what I see when I look at you. When I get to bask in how wonderful you are, honey,” he drawled as he trailed his fingers over your ribcage. “Beautiful, stunnin’, gorgeous.” His fingertips ghosted a ticklish spot. “I’ll remember that one for later,” he winked at you in the mirror.

“My goddess.” He whispered reverently as he rubbed your hips. “So good to me. The prettiest girl in the world.” He kissed your jaw. “I love all of you. It’s the easiest thing in the world. Like breathin’. Unlike the offside rule.”

He fake scowled for a minute, which made you chuckle. “Thank you Ted, I love you too.” You replied, already feeling a little bit better. “I’m just anxious about wearing this bikini. I’ve never worn one before.” Ted spun you around so you were facing him instead of the mirror, love and concern written across his features. “And,” you continued, “this might be silly, but I have a bit of a hang-up about my tummy. Well, my belly-button,” you pointed downwards. “It sticks out and I don’t like it. It’s bugged me forever. It’s why I don’t wear bikinis.” You sighed.

“This lil fella right here?” he poked it lightly, making you giggle. “Ding dong. You’re the cutest little button I’ve ever seen. Like an adorable lil cinnamon roll. I just wanna devour it,” Ted exclaimed, suddenly pressing a kiss to it. You jumped with laughter. “Ted, if you continue like this, we will be going home. For a different reason, though.” You smirked at him, having regained a bit more confidence.

“Oh I promise, we will revisit this later,” Ted said in a mock formal tone. I can’t wait.” He winked again.

“So,” you gathered your breath, moving towards the door, “I’m ready to head out there.”

“Are you sure?” Ted checked in again, his hand on your lower back.

“Yes,” you felt a surge of confidence. “With you by my side, I can take on the world.”

You pulled him in by the neck to kiss him deeply by way of thanks.

“Oi!” Roy shouted from downstairs. “You two lovebirds coming down?”

You looked each other and smiled. You’d do it, together.

[kingdaddydaichi]

One of my favorite stories I’ve ever read is “Lessons Learned”. So I would like to request something similar with a mixture of Hard dom/ Brat tamer Bakugou ❤️‍🔥 Take it in whatever direction you want, I know I’ll enjoy it however it ends up 😏

@ssplague, bestieeee! Tysm! 🥺💕 I'm sooooo fucking sorry it took me so long to answer your ask! It made me weak the first time I read it! I've got so many other wips I should probably be working on rn, but I finally said FUCKIT! I nEED this in my life rn!

I LOVED writing Lessons Learned - god! It was hard to get through tho. Nearly every time I sat down and started working on it, it always ended the same way and that's all I'ma say rn! 😈

Yes. I see your HardDom!BratTamer!Bakugou and raise you Jealous!Exhibitionist!Bakugou. 💅🏼💋

I hope it's worth the wait...

MINORS 👏🏼 DO 👏🏼 NOT 👏🏼 INTERACT 👏🏼

The Performance 💥 HardDom!BratTamer!Jealous!Exhibitionist! Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader 💥 NSFW

Warnings: slight dubcon, Dom/sub dynamic, possessive dynamic, exhibitionism, marking, circle jerk, creampie, absolute filth

Word Count: 2.9k

It was half past 9 when he walked through the door at the well-to-do club where you'd been enjoying down time with some of your friends. He kissed your cheek and sat down in the half-circle booth next to you, putting his warm, athletic arm over your bare shoulders.

"How long you been waitin'?"

"Maybe an hour?"

He looked down, grumbling. "Got here as soon as I could". He glanced at you with his bottom lip poking out.

You propped your cheek on your hand and smiled at him, rubbing his arm. "I know, babe. It's perfectly fine, I understand".

"Ay, Bakubro! You finally made it!", Kiri yelled from across the table.

Katsuki snarled at him. "Yeah! Some of us have to actually work for a living!"

At that very moment, the cocktail waitress stopped by the table to take Katsuki's order and Mina yelled, "Yes please, for the love of god, get that man a drink!"

He growled at her before turning back to the waitress. "Four fingers of whiskey straight, no chaser".

She scampered off and everyone fell into the chatter and laughs they'd been sharing when Katsuki arrived.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

You were on your way back to the table from the restroom when you felt fingers against your elbow and a voice behind you say, "Hey, (y/n)!"

"Oh hey!" It was a young man a few years younger than yourself who worked in the same office building as you. "Fancy seeing you here". He appeared to be with a couple of friends judging by the prying eyes peering from behind him, smirking.

"I know, right? I've been here a few times, but I don't think I've seen you here before".

"Really? I come here quite regularly and I've seen you here before".

"Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I just haven't been paying attention".

"Don't worry about it! I just thought I'd say hi this time".

"I'm glad you did! Maybe I'll see you again the next time I'm here". You waved your fingers at him and started back towards your table again only to see Katsuki's eyes about to burst into flames as he watched you approach.

When you sat down, he leaned in. "Who's he?"

You waved him off. "Just a guy who works in the same building as I do".

"What did he want?"

"Nothing, just wanted to say h-"

"Bullshit". He placed his hand over your thigh under the table. "When a guy looks at a woman the way he was looking at you, trust me baby, he wants something". His large, rough hand squeezed the meat of your thigh beneath it. It hurt and you gripped his wrist in an effort to keep the whine in the back of your throat from escaping. The rest of your party was too close in proximity...at least one or two of them would've heard you. "I don't like it when other guys look at you like that". He dragged his fingers upward, taking the hem of your skirt along with them.

"Katsuki, get ahold of yourself. They're just looking...it's not like they're touching me".

He put his mouth to your ear. "Fuck it. Let 'em look". His hand moved further up your skirt, parting your legs enough that you could feel the cold draft of air against your dampening panties. "It'll just give me every reason I need to show them who you belong to".

His eyes shifted away from yours and you followed them to see what he was looking at. The guy who had just been flirting with you was watching as your husband's hand worked between your legs. His eyes flicked to Katsuki’s whose dark, lopsided, toothy grin spread across his handsome face, pleased that he was making himself clear to the other man that he had already laid his claim on you.

His pinky grazed your clothed, wet slit and you squirmed in your seat, trapping his hand between your thighs hoping it would make him relent. "Stop it, Katsuki", you growled at him.

But he twisted his wrist until he was able to push your panties aside with two of his fingers. He sank said fingers between your inner folds, coating them with your clear slick before curling them upwards to flick them over your hardening clit. You shuddered under his touch as he locked eyes with the other man, making sure he was watching when Katsu raised his fingers to his mouth, sucking them both off at once.

You glanced down to see Katsuki's cock pushing against the fabric of his slacks, tight against him in his sitting position. Showing other men that you belonged to him had always put him in a rut. You used the situation to your advantage and knowing he wouldn't follow you with a half, but nevertheless large, erection for everyone to see, you stood up in one fluid movement, turning away from him and strutting to the bar.

As you waited for the busy bartender to take your order, you noticed the rather strapping gentleman who stood beside you, looking down at his glowing phone screen.

"What can I get for you ma'am?"

You looked back at the bartender, who'd finally spoken to you. "Oh, um- (favorite drink)-"

"On me", the man beside you said.

"Yes sir", the bartender said before turning to his task.

You looked again at the handsome man beside you - taller than Katsuki, but he didn't exude quite the same confidence he did. Then again, not many people did.

"Thank you, you didn't have to do that".

"I know". He gave you a smug, sidelong look. "I wanted to".

You tried to hide your smile, but fuck. His sexiness could easily go head to head with Katsuki's. You watched his eyes travel from your face down to your toes and back up again. You could almost feel your possessive husband's fiery eyes burning a hole in your back.

You turned to face the gentleman beside you, glancing over at the blond in the process. When you focused your gaze back to the man beside you, Katsuki stood up and started stalking towards you. His dick still wasn't completely soft yet, but he didn't care. He probably wanted the man next to you to see the bulge in his pants, using it to his advantage during the impending exchange at the bar. Not many men had a bigger cock than Katsuki and he knew it.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, squaring his hips off at the other man, most likely willing him to notice his size. "Let's go".

You pushed back against him. "Stop Katsu, I'm not ready to go yet".

He locked eyes with the man beside you and put his mouth right up next to your ear. "Would you prefer I fuck you right here on this bar to show everyone who your slutty pussy belongs to? Because I will! You're already wet and aching for my cock, aren't you, pretty girl?"

He was NOT bluffing. You knew your Dom. It had only taken him once before to show you that he was not above covertly pulling his dick out and pushing it inside your hot cunt while standing behind you at a crowded bar, much like the one you were standing at now.

The bartender sat your drink down on a small napkin, but Katsuki pushed it back to him and said, "Oi! Throw this one out and make her another one". He glared at the taller man beside you. "ALL of her drinks are on me, got that?"

He slid two thick fingers inside the plunging neckline of that little black number you wore, carding your hard nipple between them as he rutted his hips against your bottom. "Well?"

A part of you wanted him to fuck you then and there with the other man watching. But you'd never let it actually go that far. "Katsu, please go sit down and I'll be over after I get my drink since I have to wait longer for it now". You rolled your eyes.

He leaned back, his vermillion eyes searching yours until they locked onto the feminine form brushing past your shoulder. He reached out and stopped the cocktail waitress in her tracks, leaning down to her ear, whispering something. Without another word, he calmly walked away and sat back down at the table.

Stubborn as you were, you held your position at the bar. A couple of minutes later, out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement near the table where Katsuki was seated. The same waitress was now leaning down and whispering in his ear, her lips less than an inch from his face. He caught your gaze and smirked before turning his face towards hers. For a second it looked like he might actually kiss her. You were relieved for about half a second when she stood up and started walking away from him, only to watch him stand up as well and follow her up the stairs into the private VIP area.

Now it was your head that was about to explode. I know he did NOT just invite a fucking cocktail waitress to the VIP so he can fuck her! He turned the tables faster than a cheap hooker turns tricks on the streets of Vegas. You knew how other females looked at him. Hell, males too! That girl was probably 10 years your junior too, barely old enough to be serving alcohol. And now you watched as she led your husband up the stairs.

Drink forgotten, you marched your pretty, indignant ass right up to the 2nd level, ready to snatch a bitch up by her hair only to find Katsuki sitting on the couch, alone.

"Seems you're a petty, jealous asshole too".

Relieved, you plopped down on the couch next to your faithful husband, putting your arm over his waist as he pulled you in and kissed your forehead.

You lowered your head to his chest only to notice once again that his cock was pressing against the confines of his pants. You stroked him through the rough material as he raised up, pushing his erection closer to you, physically begging for more of your touch. You palmed him a couple more times before unzipping his slacks and pulling his cock out. He wasn't fully hard yet, but if you had anything to do with it, he was going to be standing at full attention in less than a minute.

You lowered your head further and pushed some spit through your ruby lips onto the angry head of his dick. He watched as you lowered your mouth and swirled your tongue around the smooth texture of his tip before sinking your lips down around him, taking as much of him into your mouth as possible. Not easy, but you're a blow job champ determined to take all of it for the team.

Only a couple of minutes passed by when Katsuki pulled you off his cock. You raised your lusty gaze to see the two men who'd flirted with you standing side-by-side, eyes as big as half dollars at the sight of your tits hanging out of your dress with a fat string of saliva hanging from your bottom lip. Your face snapped to Katsuki who had a shit-eating grin on his face. "What the fuck, Katsuki? Why are they here?"

"Because I had them brought here to watch and see under no uncertain terms who the fuck you belong to!"

Your protest was cut short when Katsuki flipped your body around so that you were facing the back of the couch. He pushed your skirt up around your waist and hooked your soaking panties with his thumb, pushing them aside and holding them against your ass cheek. "I suggest you hold onto something, you bratty cockslut!"

"Baby, no, I don't want them to see-". You averted your eyes from theirs.

Katsuki gave his thick cock a couple of strokes before pushing the head against your weeping entrance.

"Katsuki, you can't-". Your words failed you as he sank his meaty cock inside you.

He looked over at the audience of two, who were enraptured as they watched your husband pull himself nearly all the way out before gliding himself in balls deep again. He set a rhythm, making sure that the two guys who'd had the audacity to flirt with you could see the striations of your slick along his length as he fucked you. The younger of the two, the office boy, had been palming himself through his pants.

"Oh my god, Katsu! They're watching us!"

"I know, that's the fucking point!" Maintaining his pace, he looked at them. "You understand now that she's mine?"

Their mouths moved, but no sound came out. Katsuki pounded his thighs against you harder, a sharp clap ringing through all 8 ears. "Answer me!" The taller man's erection was now evident through the fabric of his pants.

"Y-yes, I un-understand", one of them mustered while the other one could only nod.

Katsuki's wet balls were slapping your clit now, and you whimpered "Katsu? Baby?"

He wrapped your hair around his fist, ignoring your mewl. He never broke eye contact with the men who'd made passes at you. "Tell her who the fuck she belongs to".

The younger one had pulled his cock through his open zipper, jerking off his smaller dick with his eyes locked on the point where your body met your husband's.

"Look at her!", Katsuki commanded. Both pairs of eyes met yours, their dry mouths hanging open. "SAY IT!"

They both jumped. "Y-you...belong to h-him", said the younger man who had been jacking off.

"The name's fucking Bakugou! Fucking say it!"

The same guy said, "You b-belong to B-Bakugou!"

By this time the taller man had pulled his dick out too, much larger than that of the other guy, but he still didn't hold a candle to Katsuki.

Katsuki's eyes darted to his. "Say my fucking name!" Your pussy was sucking him hard and his voice nearly cracked.

"B-Bakugou..."

"That's right...Bakugou. It's her last name too, you fucking beta. Don't you ever forget!"

The man's eyes drifted over to your pussy just in time to see the pink ring of flesh around your husband's cock begin an undulating cycle of flexing and relaxing. "Nnn-Katsu! G-gonna cum!"

Your thighs tightened and your hips stopped rocking back against Katsuki's, but the clamping down of your vaginal walls only got stronger as you unraveled around your husband's weighty cock.

He pulled back on the fistful of your hair, still plunging himself deep within your quivering cunt. Smarmy as ever, he looked at the taller man again. "Who does this fucking pussy belong to?"

"Y-you! I-I mean, Bakugou!"

"You're goddamn right it fucking does". Katsuki's groan escaped on the tail end of his words.

You could feel his cock tensing up inside you, such was his size. "Katsu?" Your body had turned to putty as you tried to hold onto what little shred of dignity you had left. "Cum for me, Katsu!", you whimpered.

"Why the fuck should I?"

"C-uz I want y-ou to mark m-e!" Your eyeliner smeared across the leather material of the couch cushion.

"That's a good a reason as any", he said before shifting his eyes away from the small circle jerk and back down to you. "Ah fuck, baby, yeah. I'll fucking mark you alright!" His eyes darted back up to that of his audience. "Gonna make sure my musk saturates you so they can fucking smell me on you!"

Drool seeped from your open mouth against the cream-colored leather. Your tits swayed and your ass cheeks rippled from the sheer force of Katsuki's relentless thrusts.

"Ah fuck, baby, gonna fill you up with my seed! So fucking full of it you're not going to be able to hold it all in!" Katsuki's hips snapped against your ass one last time before locking up, his ass flexing, relaxing, flexing, relaxing, flexing.

The younger man who'd been jacking off whined quietly as he blew his load onto the carpet beneath him.

"Nn fuck", the taller one groaned.

Finished with his orgasm, Katsuki pulled his cock out, bouncing under its own weight. He pulled your hips around to put on display the creampie he'd left behind inside you. The taller man, still tugging on his cock, watched as your pussy clenched, causing some of Katsuki's seed to ooze out of you and drip onto your ankle. That's all he could take and he came rather loudly, his cum nearly hitting you on the first release, such was the power behind it.

Katsuki frowned at both of them. "She's fucking mine. Don't you ever fucking forget it. Now...get the fuck OUT!"

They barely got their sticky, softening cocks back in their pants before retreating downstairs to no doubt go straight to their respective homes and have existential crises because they just orgasmed while watching another man fuck and cum inside an attractive woman. Porn was one thing, but Katsuki's show of dominance had hit different. And they had to wonder if they were wrong for it somehow.

Meanwhile, your husband helped you pull yourself together at least enough to make it to the car to take you home.

And with the privacy window partially cracked open, the driver was able to watch as Katsuki lapped up both your fresh slick for him, as well as his own seed as it continued to leak out.