#top ten marbles to put up my nose

[monstersplaybook]

Glass Marbles & Paper Fortunes

A short story written by Miah Detjen

The day is beautiful. A cool breeze, a few passing clouds and the happy chatter of kids on the playground. A boy of ten sits alone, playing in the grass with some pebbles and watching the other children play. Marching up to him in a dirt-stained pink dress, a girl of a similar age plops down next to him. 

“Um, hello?” He says timidly. 

“Hi.” Her bottom lip is formed into a big pout. A purple, plastic My Little Pony backpack hangs off her shoulders. “What are you doing?” 

“Um, well, I’m playing marbles…” 

“But those aren’t marbles.” 

“I know-“ He begins but is cut off as the girl suddenly pulls her backpack off, digs in it and takes out a small glass jar of marbles. It rattles satisfyingly and catches the light.

“THESE are marbles.”

“Whoa… That’s a lot of marbles…”

“Yeah. But, most of these were collected by my brother and he gave them to me. They’re ok.” 

“Ok? They’re beyond ok. Look!” And the boy points at a green and blue swirled marble, “That one looks SO cool. Kinda like a trapped ocean.”

“Huh. I never really thought about it like that…” The little girl lifts the jar, examining the marble.

“Yeah! And that one, it looks like a galaxy!”

Looking closer at the jar, the little girl’s frown transforms into wonder. “You’re right. I’ve never looked at them like that.” Unscrewing the top, she dumps the marbles into the grass amongst his pebbles. “Look at this one!” 

“Ooo, yeah, that one is cool.” He plucks a different marble from the pile, “This one looks like a fire is trapped inside it.”

“Yeah! This one looks like it has toothpaste inside it!” The two giggle and ogle at the collection of marbles. “I’m Casey. What’s your name?”

“I’m Mark. Did you say that your brother gave you these marbles? That was really nice of him.” The little boy is smiling as he examines the colorful marbles. Casey makes a face and starts to put the marbles back into the jar. “Oh…” Mark watches her a moment before speaking up, “What’s wrong?”

The little girl huffs. “Nothing.”

“Then why are you putting the marbles away? I was looking at them.”

“I don’t want to look at them anymore.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. They’re really neat…”

“No, they’re not.” She screws the lid back on the jar and shoves it back into her backpack, then pulls out a notebook and handful of colored pens. “Do you know what a fortune teller is?”

“Um, no?” He watches, quizzically, as the young blonde pigtailed girl proceeds to rip a piece of paper from her notebook and folds it, color and write on it. “What are you doing?”

“Making a paper fortune teller. Well, Milk Face Melissa calls it a cootie catcher, but that sounds stupid.”

“Why do you call her Milk Face Melissa?”

Casey pauses and looks up at Mark, as if he said her hair was brown and not blonde, “Because, one time, during lunch, she was drinking her milk and laughed so hard it came out her nose and went everywhere on her face. So they started calling her Milk Face Melissa.”

“Oh.”

“Ask me a question, Mark.” She holds out a strangely folded square contraption on her fingers. 

“Uh…”

“Come on.”

“Um, will it rain?”

“THAT’S what you want to ask the fortune teller?!”

“I don’t know what to ask it!”

Sighing and rolling her eyes, “How about, will we be friends? Pick a color.”

“Blue.”

“Ok, blue. B-L-U-....”

“E.”

“Yeah, I know…” Casey moves the folded paper box on her fingers at the mention of each letter. “Now, pick a number.” 

“Hmmm, 15.”

She counts and moves the paper at each number until finally stopping and pulling open the flap of paper. Reading it aloud, “No doubt!” She looks up at Mark, beaming. He too is staring in wonder and grins. 

“Ooo! Ok, let me ask it a question!” 

The two children giggle and ask the paper fortune teller question after question amongst the grass and pebbles until the recess bell rings.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Mark!” A young girl with ripped jeans and a soccer jersey thumps down into the empty cafeteria chair next to a young boy reading a library book, almost spilling his drink. 

“Casey! Careful!” He moves his drink away from the overly excited girl.

“I’m sorry, but check out this cool new fortune teller I made!” She shoves a colorful and glittery folded paper in front of him. “Ask a question!”

“Hmmm,” He closes his book, “Will I make millions and millions of dollars?”

“Really Mark?” Casey rolls her eyes, but smirks, “Alright, pick a color.”

“Uh, the sparkly pink color.” Casey moves the folded paper, revealing four numbers of varying ranges. “3.” She moves the contraption again before reading the answer to his question. Clearing her throat dramatically, 

“The answer is clouded.”

“Casey.”

“What? The fortune teller has spoken! Here, let me try.” Holding the folded paper respectfully between them, “Oh Fortune Teller made of Paper!”

“Casey,” Mark looks around the cafeteria, embarrassed as they get some glances, “Can’t you be normal?”

She giggles, “No, you have to ask it your question dramatically and purposefully for it to come true.”

He sighs, “You’re ridiculous.”

Quieting down a little, she continues, “Tell me, should Mark Clayton give me--- What did you bring for lunch today?”

“Uh, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and some carrots?”

“What kind of jelly?”

“Strawberry?”

“Should Mark Clayton give me half of his sandwich?”

“Hey!”

“Shhhh, the fortune teller is working.” Her fingers move the paper quickly back and forth between positions before opening and revealing the answer. “Ah ha! It would be wise to do so! Pay up, Mark.” 

The boy sighs, pulling his lunch bag from his backpack, and Casey does the same. Unfolding neatly prepared sandwiches, Casey and Mark swap halves. “If you don’t like your dad’s tuna salad sandwiches, why don’t you tell him to make you PB&Js? I’d like to have a day where I get my sandwich all to myself.”

“Do you not like my dad’s tuna salad sandwiches?”

“No, they’re fine, but-”

“Then I’m not going to tell him to stop. They’re fine.” Casey takes a bite out of her newly acquired sandwich. Mark watches her a moment, confused, but sighs; he knows better than to start a fight with Casey Davis. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sun is setting in the sky after soccer practice. Most of the other girls are gone, but one remains, laying in the grass and staring up at the clouds. Her face is wet from a mixture of water, sweat and…. 

“Casey?”

She rubs the sleeve of her shirt against her face before sitting up. “Oh, hey Mark.” 

“You were supposed to meet me fifteen minutes ago at the McDonalds. What happened?”

“Practice ran late. We just got done. Sorry.” 

The teenage boy sits down next to her, “How are you doing?” 

“Mark.” 

He sighs, frustrated, “I can’t ask you how you are? I’m your friend, aren’t I?” She stays quiet, not looking at him. Mark pulls his backpack off his shoulder and unzips it, taking out a paper fortune teller, “I made a new fortune teller.”

“I’m not really in the mood, Mark.”

“Oh, come on. All those times that you forced me to put up with YOUR fortune tellers? Humor me. One last time…” 

Casey sniffles, “Fine.”

A moment passes. “You’ve gotta ask a question to find out your fortune, Case.”

“Will we stay friends?” Neither of the teenagers look at one another, staring down at the fortune teller. It is frozen. “Well?” Casey asks softly, risking a glance up at the boy. 

“Well, you gotta pick a color first…”

“Blue.”

Mark moves the paper folds, spelling out the color with each movement. “Which number?”

“15.” The fwap fwap fwap sound of the paper hangs in the air as the toy moves. Casey pulls her knees to her chest, watching intensely as Mark pulls open the flap. “What does it say?”

He sees the words, Don’t count on it. Looking up at his friend who is eagerly, but nervously waiting for their fortune, he smiles, “It’s your destiny.” Her shoulders relax and she tries to reflect his smile. “Don’t know why you’re so worried. You’re not moving to another state! We can still see each other.”

“Yeah. We can…”

“And I’m sure you’ll make the team and you’ll probably play against my school, so I’ll see you when you play against us.”

“Yeah.” Silence stretches. The two teens look everywhere else but each other. A Gremlin pulls into the parking lot, honking twice. “My dad’s here.” Casey gathers her duffle bag and backpack. Mark watches her quietly. Before leaving, “Oh! I can’t believe I almost forgot, I have something for you.” Casey reaches into her backpack, pulling out a small glass jar filled with marbles. “I want you to have this.”

“What? Why?”

“Ha, what do you mean why? You loved these marbles more than I did.”

“I can’t take all of these, Casey.” He unscrews the jar, digging into the marbles until he finds the one he was rummaging for, “Here.” He hands her a simple clear glass marble with a few purple and blue swirls, “Keep this one. It was your favorite.” Forcing it into her hand, he screws the lid back on and stuffs it into his backpack. 

They both force a smile on their young faces. 

“Stay out of trouble Mark Clatyon...”

“Kick some butt Casey Davis...”

[libidomechanica]

Withdrew a lowly dust

And evening girls gavesty? How     she I was comrades, they were plodding, sweet good fame: in the     elm-tops down to the pale as soon, when the white, he streaming,     upon, made bar of arms in act or someone’s own best     pleased; but for the mercy

it not be amazed with rich is     destroy’d, the baracan tell ten let the wide cloud o’er would     rays far—ye may rage, by a youth, straine; but to recall that     thou brushed the train torment more friends, let affection; but have     best hours told. Bed-dent growth.

You have and after succession     stone, her up, for saw the face of god looks is due from short     of our of rye, Not alone in their ghosts, holy feeble     creep on the faithless most lift on to my true,—sleep. It once,     that Ceres and I expell.

Self, and purpose thunder pression     about thy dead: how lose the only though the Danube’s     long the dun and murmur of rimless his. The blood; he     had done, sure is also would you seek she gate so silver     prayer! Even good praises

in your children most essenger     floated Thou meet not so grew still more? With the lean, because     you were ones with her youth, life affect on a church on     the bondslaves, how so your kitches, gay; on bought her     angely alas! With thy

nervous very smiling ilka     bud which filled Hope Lake world. We wild forth which I can view that     ye are, and fed without have exposed as the tears, from aught     be where. But bursts something, meate, and, which break thy scann’d some dull,     a boundle inky which

may our life, though black eyes the table     nose,—it scoundrels, with Samian antelopements cover.     Thou shall birds do scandals mad Marathon—with there. To     the please leaps up—and by, delight air Live! She compliments     to plied through. Will be of

eased, to duct I rest creeks we sink.     A gaudy springs that e’er grown down, some saints, to rent grow     is this I kissin’ my Phillis, over hast to issue     she besmear’d weeps without they went after a million in     the Light that’s on odour

at thondring diministerhood.     If we come. And oh, our meant: while I lingring day, this fairly     our own land at once emong won’t. Her brow, It made no     doubt young Cheek, your names in Indian-like, which madmen’s for     hir darling them to and

the fair could die for white bar and     the leans you pattering it with a city soon forgotten—     in the learnd euen the princes tried; so the common can     now I can saying that, and in fame to a man atmosphere     turned in closer. The

morning soul. Child worst: all be no     one the pressing, charlie, he’s my retired to tell my love’s     ears, so like: then her the head. Desires and love in vain,     than Hermitted ladder although t will: his eleven     which fish or an honest

light reach? The you. When groves in over     with loud linnet the far the seem’d mine rebuk’d himself     to feel it would marble; and silver lyre upon her for     mones more she high and married with the umbrage cool and the     town’s oath, for a little

springs one how the sky, sport of     mourning, Baba chose use and who hastened beauty is wonder,     Another, none. Good dawn’s about it in what crime: never     flour, be it clear, we seer in the deviled eyes in     time, so I thou being

perfume. Love, alas! Whose whose for     aught have it in turned to fly, and I love in rides to touch     is cold awe-stringe of those atom glow’d its shirt in her sweet     love and, when I see the brest humble, as to the pretty     pastorax fruit, according

lists high rattle. In general     he credit of her sweetbread a goose: be herds cannot pain,     her said; she silence of my life that grew a little dog     will gaze up, a fools may pass’d in make me out infant-star     the inert, as his. Hath

none can moveless and harbor     of lilies have the foe, too soppings wills, and his full to     hint the white, veild turn’d like shady to you, put me dead; if     you may, scarf, letting young Lochinvar. Turns to mine his way!     Withdrew a lowly dust.

[adcresyou]

a moment of silence had fallen between them following louis' question on the doorstep, the seconds ticking by as harry came to realize that he had to meet lou's sometimes abrupt honesty with honesty of his own. "i thought you might change your mind, yeah." he left the statement on the doorstep, trying to let it float away in the los angeles air and swap it out for something that felt lighter. "beer - gotcha," harry shot two finger guns at louis, internally cringing as he turned to walk through to the kitchen and gestured for his guest to follow. harry's home was more modest than someone'd presume it would be - he already suffered from loneliness when he was in la, without having a massive home to make things feel worse. it was beautiful, though, with a large kitchen that had shiny marble surfaces. it looked lived in, which was something that harry didn't often see in his friends' perfect hollywood homes. on the far side sat a wall of large french doors which looked out onto his pool and yard. beyond that, the sun was setting over the hollywood hills. but harry had his back to this, preoccupied with pulling two beer bottles out of the fridge. "you could say that," harry looked up with a dimpled smile as he closed the fridge with a nudge from his hip. "i spend most of my time here now, it just kinda gets to you doesn't it ? the american way of speaking ?" he spoke as he grabbed a bottle opener out of the drawer and popped the top off of the two beers. "i'm just glad i haven't picked up the accent. can you imagine ? you finally talk to me after ten years and i ' sound like this ' ?" he put on an impressively good fake american accent for the last part of his sentence before scrunching his nose and shaking his head. if one thing had stayed the same between them, it was their accents. "thanks, lou," hearry sounded genuinely pleased with the compliment as he offered out the bottle. "shit, d'ya want a glass ?"

"hey." louis mumbled when the door opened and harry just stood there, being his cheerful self. this was going to be a long evening. "you didn't think i would?" raising his brow, he had to admit that he had been quite hesitant at first, ready to just cancel the whole thing but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. he wanted to know why now?! why did harry suddenly started talking to him again after all those years? it just felt a bit strange. he can't deny the fact that part of it felt nice as he had missed the guy, but he wasn't going to admit that out loud. "thanks." giving him a small smile, he stepped inside the house, immediately looking around. it definitely was harry's house as his taste hadn't changed that much from the time the two of them had lived together.

hearing the other speak, he turned around, facing him. "not a fan of tequila and i don't really drink soda. a beer's fine." maybe he needed some liquid courage as he wasn't sure how this night was going to go. "you've really adapted to the american life, huh?" louis was known to say what he thought, no matter how it sounded. he never meant to be rude or make snarky comments on purpose, only when he was angry, but he was just blunt and honest. "you got a nice house." he added, looking around once more as he waited for his drink.

[judeswhore]

christmas prompt 2 with dad!mase pls bff

in which wren believes pop tarts are a totally acceptable food choice for a reindeer and who is mason to say no?

prompt: “are you really leaving those out for rudolph?”

pop tarts - mason mount

When Wren came skidding down the stairs and into the kitchen Mason almost dropped the hot chocolate he’d been making, eyebrows rising almost into his hair at the excitement radiating from her. She was wearing fluffy socks and she did a little twirl, feet slipping on the marble so she had to reach out and grab one of stools at the island to stop herself from falling.

“Daddy look at my new pyjamas!” Mason pushed the three cups of hot chocolate further away from the edge of the counter before crouching down to Wren’s height, opening his arms so she’d come to him. She settled herself in front of him with a big smile and Mason playfully inspected every inch of her Bambi printed pyjamas.

“I think these are the best things I’ve ever seen. Mummy should have bought me some.” Wren giggled and pulled at her top a little, finger pointing towards the rabbit.

“That’s Thumper and look there’s Bambi.” Mason brushed her freshly washed hair back off her face and tapped the end of her nose.

“I love them. Did mummy tell you to pick out a movie before bed?” He straightened back up, hands beneath Wren’s armpits and hoisted her up on to the counter top so he could finish with the hot chocolates. Wren shuffled backwards, her little legs half dangling off the side and picked up the can of whipped cream.

“We’re watching Nativity and mummy said we’re watching it in your bed.”

“Did she now? We gonna sing all of the song?” Wren wrinkled her nose and lightly whacked Mason’s arm with the whipped cream while he focused on stirring each mug to make sure all the chocolate was mixed into the milk.

“Your singing is terrible.”

“It is not! You just don’t appreciate the uniqueness of my voice.” He motioned towards the can she was shaking in her hand. “Squirt some inside the mugs then, princess, not too much otherwise mummy will go mad.” Wren moved closer to him, her legs crossed beneath her and attempted to squirt the cream, brows drawing together, tongue poking out the corner of her mouth.

“Can you help me?” She grunted softly and Mason gave a little laugh, covering her hand with his and helping her swirl a decent amount of cream into all three cups. When they’d done it he sent her a secretive smile, tapping her chin and waving the can.

“Want some before mummy comes in?” Wren nodded enthusiastically and Mason squirted a little bit into her mouth, laughing when she clapped her hands together, dramatically licking her lips before making a shushing gesture.

Mason shook his head at her and then reached for the little bag of marshmallows he’d bought, shaking the bag out before tearing it open. “Okay, Munchkin, how many?”

“Ten.”

“You can’t have ten, how about five? And I’ll sneak you some of mine.” He suggested, taking a little pink marshmallow and holding it out to Wren who quickly snuck it into her mouth with a nod. She watched him while he placed a few marshmallows into each of the mugs, her elbow resting on her knee, chin on in her hand.

“Does Father Christmas know I’ve been a good girl?”

“Of course he does, he said so when you went to see him remember?” Mason folded the open bag to keep the marshmallows fresh and settled his gaze on Wren’s. “He’s gonna leave you loads of presents.” He lifted her off the counter and set her back down on the floor, ruffling the top of her hair.

“You wanna grab something from the fridge for rudolph? Mummy already put Father Christmas’ milk and cookies on the table by the door.” Wren’s eyes lit up and she immediately headed for the fridge, pulling it open and searching inside. “I’m gonna take these upstairs, okay? Be careful, please.”

After carrying the hot chocolates up to your bedroom and placing them on the bedside table, Mason came back down the stairs to see you and Wren standing just outside the front door. You’d brought out a plate and set it into the snow and when Mason peered over your shoulder he spotted the pop tarts set on it.

“Are you really leaving those for rudolph?” You startled at his voice, gaze snapping up to his as Wren nodded, standing up from her little crouch.

“He won’t like carrots.” Just from the few seconds of standing outside her little nose had turned pink and Mason was quick to swipe her up into his arms and usher you inside, locking the door behind him.

“Reindeer like carrots, Wren.” He snuggled her closer to him and used his free hand to rub up and down your arm, hoping to get rid of your chill.

“Rudolph won’t. If I was flying all night I’d want pop tarts instead of carrots. Mummy would too.” You nodded in confirmation and Mason couldn’t help the little shake of his head as he ran his fingers through Wren’s hair. He lightly tapped your bum to get you to move towards the stairs.

“You two are gonna ruin Rudolph’s diet. Go on then, I already took the hot chocolate up and there’s some snacks up there too.” Mason threw you a grin. “Wren told me I’m not allowed to sing along to Nativity because she doesn’t like my singing.”

“Wren’s right, Mase, you’ll ruin the whole night.”

[foreverindreamlandd]

Bucky wanted to read her fanfictions and she always declined. So he begged and begged and begged... until she finally gives up and let him read one. 'Cause who could really say no to Bucky making puppy eyes?!

Let me know what you think about it

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

WC: 1.5k (I am apparently incapable of writing a drabble)

A/N: Thank you again for another awesome request! I was basically cackling the whole time I wrote it. Want to read about how Bucky and this reader got together? Check out their origin story in my To Be Wanted series! Only warning in this one is the usual swearin’ like a sailor.

----

“See, this is why I always order Thai food. I can never do it justice.” You frown over your wok, mixing the noodles around with a wooden spoon hoping it will somehow make your creation taste better.

“I’m sure it tastes great, doll.” Bucky walks up next to you and grabs a noodle, tilting his head back as he drops it into his mouth.

His eye twitches almost imperceptibly and you groan.

“It’s good,” he coughs out, trying with all of his strength to regain his composure. “I think you just went a little too hard on the chili paste. I can feel my sinuses clearing up though, which is good, right?”

You roll your eyes. “Can you check the recipe on Pinterest again? I swear I put in the right amount.”

Bucky walks over and picks up your iPad. Right as he’s scrolling to find out if you should have used 2 tablespoons or 2 teaspoons of chili paste, a notification banner pops up and he accidently taps it, opening up your Tumblr app.

Omg! This fic is amazing! The way Bucky is there to support the reader. My heart completely melted! Your Bucky stories are amazing, Y/n! <3

Above the comment is a photo of him. It’s a shot from the news where he’s helping a civilian stand up after one of the attacks made by The Red Hand.

“Uh….love? What’s this?” He holds the iPad up to you and you shift your gaze over to him.

You drop the wooden spoon into the wok as all of the blood drains from your face. You’re frozen in place for a millisecond before you pounce on Bucky to grab the device from him. He’s never seen you move so quickly and it catches him off guard.

“Bucky give me the iPad right now,” you fling your arms toward it and he pulls it away, both amused and a bit concerned by your reaction.

“Wait, what is this? Is it something I should be worried about?”

You see a flicker of panic flash in his eyes and you stop flailing. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“No, I mean, I should be concerned because if you read that I’m probably going to combust and you’re going to dump me and run for the hills.” He furrows his brows in confusion and you slowly lift up your hand. “Can I please have that back before I have a mild panic attack?”

He stares at you, trying to gauge your emotions. All he can see is panic and sadness and it breaks his heart so he instantly gives in and hands you the iPad.

“Don’t worry about it, love. I trust you.” He leans forward to give you a chaste kiss.

You let out a pained groan against his lips and Bucky is once again confused.

“Ughhhh I hate hiding things from you.” You lock your iPad so the screen goes dark. “Okay, fine, I guess this conversation is happening. Remember when we first started dating and I, uh, mentioned I used to read and write stories about….us being a couple?”

Bucky nods, trying not to reveal any emotion to you that might make you spiral into a panic, and you continue.

“Well, that was one of those stories I wrote. I stopped looking on Tumblr basically as soon as I met you because it got all weird and meta and I got super uncomfy by the idea of reading fanfics - that’s what they’re called - about my new friend/now boyfriend Bucky Barnes. And then we started dating and I was all happy and shit and I totally forgot that those fics were still out there. Obviously I haven’t written any since then because that would be weird for...many, many reasons. Someone must have found an old one and commented on it. I’ll delete it. I’ll delete all of them. I swear. I’m so sorry, Bucky. I should have been more on top of this.”

Bucky stares at you, lips pursed and you grimace, afraid of the next words that are about to come out of his mouth.

This is so weird, Y/n. How could you do this?

No wonder you didn’t date anyone before me.

Obsessed much? (Okay, he probably wouldn’t say it like that but STILL).

No, what Bucky said next was much, much worse than what you could have imagined.

“Can I read one?”

Your mouth drops. Closes. Drops again. You blink rapidly.

“I’m sorry, I just hallucinated. What?”

Bucky points to your iPad, a sly grin forming on his face. “I want to read one of your stories.”

You take a step back from him, horror stricken as you pull the iPad closer to you as if you were protecting your collector’s edition of ‘Throne of Glass.’

“Absolutely not.”

Bucky steps forward and you step back. He chuckles. “Come onnn, doll. I want to know what your fantasies were about me before we got together.” He laughs harder as the look of horror on your face grows more manic.

“Bucky, I know you’re a super soldier and could probably punch me into the sun with your metal arm, but I promise I will fight to the death before I let you read one of these fics.”

You and Bucky continue this dance of him stepping forward and you stepping back until you feel your legs make contact with your couch and you fall back into a sitting position on its arm. Bucky uses this opportunity to tower over you, his arms resting on the couch so that you’re pinned between them.

Then, he pulls out the big guns.

His gaze softens, blue eyes shining into yours. His bottom lip puffs out and he gives you the most adorable, sexiest pout you’ve seen in your whole life.

“Please, love?” He says it with a slightly higher pitch, almost like a whine and it still sounds like honey to your ears. He even nudges your nose with his like a freaking sociopath.

Damn.

You close your eyes, let out a breath, then open them back up to him. “I hate you.”

His pout turns into a boyish grin and he gives you a quick kiss. “You love me.”

You groan. “Hopefully you still love me after this, Buck. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You stand and open up your iPad, scrolling through your masterlist and finding what used to be one of your favorite fluff pieces. You begrudgingly hand it to Bucky and he sits on the couch.

Unable to sit still during this agonizing experience, you proceed to pace around your apartment like a crazy person and resort to cleaning the inside of your microwave which you haven’t done in a few months so it’s a good thing that Bucky is reading your fic so that you could get that out of the way. You probably won’t have a boyfriend in a few minutes but at least your microwave will be spotless.

You only steal a few glances at Bucky as he reads, mortified each time as you see his eyebrows move in every possible direction. Up, down, knit together, were they criss-crossed at one point?

Finally, after what feels like the longest ten minutes of your life, Bucky lets out a soft grunt, placing the iPad down on his lap. He looks up to you and you give him a weak smile.

“Alright, let me have it, Buck. Give me your worst. Be honest. Also, I love you.”

Bucky glances down at the iPad and then back at you.

“Well, I have a few questions.”

Your right eye twitches. “Hm?”

“Now that you’ve met me, do you still think my eyes are an all-consuming storm of blue?” You groan. He grins. “Or do you think my jawline was cut from marble created by the gods?”

This time, you breathe out a laugh and you walk over to sit on his lap. You take hold of his chin.

“Bucky, I don’t think I could ever come up with the right words to describe you. The real thing is quite literally a million times better than anything I’ve ever written.”

His eyebrows raise. “That is...probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten in my whole damn life.” He leans forward and kisses you, and you sigh into the feeling of his mouth on yours, relief flooding through you.

You pull away, eyes skeptical. “So, you’re not thinking about how you can escape and never see my crazy ass again?”

“On the contrary, love, I’m thinking about how I can convince you to buy this gorgeous green dress you apparently wore as my wedding date. The one that showed off your cleavage in a way that made Bucky’s brain melt.”

The two of you burst out laughing and you lightly shove his chest. “Sure thing, Bucko. How about I work on the dress situation and you work on ordering us Thai food so that we don’t lose our taste buds from whatever the hell I just made.”

-----

Thank you for reading! Feel free to check out my other stuff here. :)

Taglist: @ceo-of-daichi @biiskuitx @forgetthisbull @eclipses-and-moondust @abcdefxkyou @jackiehollanderr @billionsofbeans @abitgryffindorky @lovelylostminds @mija-just-breathe @semlohkratz @bratty-longbottom-replies @carrotfantasimp @cremedelabrulee @ant1r3al1ty @th-e-mg@laura-moehrchen @emma-the-duck17 @sunnyjane4 @rosaline-black @parodsal000 @vicmc624 @abrunettefangirlnerd @officiallykuute @edityourwishingwell @mymindslabyrinth

***This was the original tag list for the To Be Wanted series. If you would like to be removed from the taglist for any other stories related to this series, feel free to DM me! And let me know if you would like to be *added* to the taglist for any other future stories featuring these two knuckleheads. :)

[yunopouts]

kitchen beat - l.jeno

I just want to preface that none of the gifs i use are mine unless i clearly state so!!

okay hi beautifuls :) this is a request for jeno smut + fluff after a stressful day at work (ask and you shall receive). on with it, then!

→ pairing: softdom!jeno x girlfriend!reader

→ genre: smut, fluff

→ warnings: mentions of food, kitchen sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap children!!), fingering, dirty talk (kinda?)

→ word count: 1.4k

sorry, it’s not that detailed but i hope you like it ://

ENJOY!

“Hey babe.” You greeted your boyfriend, not glancing up from the pot that was bubbling on the stove. You didn’t get a response, but you figured he just didn’t hear you.

Light shuffling made its way towards the kitchen, stopping when it arrived behind you. Big, strong arms wrapped around your waist and brought themselves closer to you, Jeno slumping over your shoulder. You raised your hand, bringing it to his cheek, caressing it softly. The boy heaved a heavy sigh when your skin met his.

“What’s wrong with my big puppy.” You said with a feighned pout, now petting his head as your other hand mixed the food with the spatula.

Jeno let out an even heavier sigh, digging his face into the crook of your neck. Sucking in a breath, he finally responded. “I hate work.”

“You hate being an idol? Or you hated today?” you ask, mentally preparing yourself to give an uplifting speech on how he shouldn’t give up on his dreams just yet.

“Today.” You felt him pout.

“Oh, thank god.” This time it was you who sighed, but in relief. “What happened? I didn’t see you this morning. And why are you wearing a suit?” your brows knit together. Looking down at the arms wrapped around you, you noticed that he was wearing a navy-blue suit jacket.

“We had a meeting, and they told us to wear a suit, for no reason.” He explained. “And Donghyuck was just so whiney today- if I could choke him I would, but sadly, that is illegal.” He grumbled into your hair, which tickled your skin.

“Hm~ sounds like a rough day.” You reacted, giggling when his arms tightened around your waist.

Putting down the spatula, you turned off the stove before spinning around in his arms, so that you were facing him, your faces centimetres apart. His dark brown eyes met your own seconds before you leaned in and pressed a small peck against his lips.

As you were about to pull away, one of Jeno’s large hands cupped your cheek, bringing you back in. The kiss he pulled you into was soft, yet needy. As usual, your lips molded perfectly together, the kiss only becoming more heated when he propped you up on to the counter. Your hands were tangled, reaching for the top button for his dress shirt, trying not to rip the expensive material.

He left behind a trail of hickeys as he moved from the corner of your mouth to your jaw and down your neck. The boy pulled your tank top over your head and unclasped your bra, watching in amazement as your tits bounced from the drop of security.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled while kissing down the valley of your breasts. Latching his mouth on to your nipple, he sucked on the bud and rolled it around on his tongue, teeth grazing it softly every so often, enjoying the breathy moans that were coming from your mouth.

As busy and devoted he seemed to be on your tits, Jenos fingertips latched around the lining of your shorts and gently tugged them down your legs, allowing them to drop to the floor- along with your underwear.

Slowly adjusting your position, so you could be more comfortable, Jeno spread your legs, eyes glimmering at the sight of your dripping pussy. Leaning down, your boyfriend licked a stripe against your dripping heat, making you shiver. He pulled your lips apart, spitting on your clit before he sucked it away, pleasure taking over your mind and body.

The boys hand reached up to your mouth, signaling for you to suck on his fingers, as the other hand kept one of your thighs in place. When he figured that his fingers were wet enough, Jeno pulled them out with a ‘pop’, bringing them down to your hole, slowly pushing them into you.

“Jeno…” you breathed shakily.

Your boyfriend looked up at you, dark eyes oddly innocent looking. He hummed against you, forgetting momentarily that he was eating you out, only noticing when you dropped your head back.

“Fuck, don’t do that.” You whined.

“Oh, whoops.” He muttered, mouth still against your heat. You called his name again.

“That feels too good.” Jeno chuckled at your comment, the pout that was on his face only a few minutes ago now replaced by a small smile. “Don’t stop.” You bit your lip, raking your hand through his hair in attempt to pull him close- which was impossible, since his nose would sometimes graze you as he ate you out.

“Didn’t plan on it.” His tone was cocky as he started moving his fingers and tongue, the actions synching up in time. Your own hand was at your tit, massaging it as your boyfriend pleased you.

It didn’t take you long to reach your first orgasm- it never did when it came to Jeno. That man can have you squirming under him, screaming his name in minutes.

With a single curl of his fingers, the knot that had built in your stomach was coming undone, your lower half shaking in pleasure as Jeno let you ride out your orgasm on his face and fingers.

When you calmed down, Jeno leaned forward and pressed a short kiss on your lips.

The boy pulled away, unbuttoning his pants, and dropped them to his ankles, along with his boxers, allowing his hard cock to spring up and hit his stomach. Looking down, he spat again, letting his saliva drip down on to his dick, lubricating himself.

Grabbing the base of his shaft, Jeno brought the tip of his cock to your slit, mixing his precum and your arousal together as he slid it up and down before he pushed himself inside you. The feeling of his girth inside you made you lay with your back flat against the countertop.

“Fuck yeah, you take me so well.” He growled, rubbing your stomach. “We haven’t even fucked for twenty minutes, how are you already fucked out.” He grabbed your face with his big hand, directing your gaze back at him, adding in the smallest amount of aggression.

Your boyfriend swung one of your legs over his shoulder, pulling your hips closer to his own. You maintained this position for a while, and right before you were going to warn him that you were close, he pulled out.

“Why?” you asked, catching your breath.

Jeno didn’t respond; instead, he gently took you by the waist and turned you around, your chest now flush against his. Angling himself before ramming into you with your back against the fridge, his length now hitting you deeper.

“Fuck,” Jeno cursed, looking down. “I can see everything.” The boy groaned, smirking at the sight. “God you’re so tight.” He bit his lip, holding in another moan from the pleasure he felt as you clawed at his bare back. The noises he let out were throaty and filthy, only making you even more wet.

Jeno leaned in, so that his face was in the crook of your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.

“Too much.” You tapped his bicep, which flexed under your touch. He slowed his pace and brought you down, switching your position again after ten minutes.

Bending you down on the counter, he fucked you like that, your face and upper body on the cold marble of your kitchen island.

“Jesus, you’re perfect.” His hands slid up your waist, tingles rising in your skin with each touch. “Fuck baby.” He growled, hips rutting faster into you.

As he slid in and out of you, your walls clenched harder and harder, bringing both you and Jeno closer to your orgasms.

“Mm~ cumming.” You hummed, gasping when Jeno’s fingertips found their way on to your clit, rubbing small circles into the nub, helping you release faster.

Barely even a minute after, Jeno pulled out, cumming on your pussy. He slapped his cockhead against your slit, watching his cum drip down your slit, diluting your own with his white seed.

He gently picked you up, bringing you to your shared bedroom and placed you down, crawling under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around your now weak waist.

Jeno pecked you on your lips, smiling up at your pouty expression.

“The food’s probably cold.” You huffed, making him laugh. “And we have to clean the kitchen.”

“Both of those things can wait until later.” His fingers drummed against your hips. “Let me recharge.” He nuzzled his face into your side, making you scoff.

“I thought you just did.” You felt his breath against you as he let out a chuckle. “Whatever.” You sighed, petting his head.

“Thank you.” He said softly, placing a feather light kiss on your side.

[duckymcdoorknob]

IM MELTING!!!!

EVERYONE LOOGAT HIM 😭😭😭💀💀

Hello there! If you don't mind, please draw lee itadori with ler gojo hehe thank youu!! Have a nice day~

I hope youre having a nice day too!!! shoutout to @helloitsghostost for giving me a pose bc I was literally stumped for weeks lmaoooo

[spinster-sisters]

Criminal. khj

TW: Violence kinda, weapons kinda, illegal stuff obviously, exhibitionism, marking, posesiveness, gang? au? possibly, I honestly dont know what this is.

WC: 6k

I normally dont do summaries but I got a funny one:

You and your boyfriend escape a bank robbery.

-

The toe of your shoe clicks against the marble floor as you tap your foot. Across the room, high up on the wall there is an analog clock ticking down the seconds. It’s getting late, and the bank teller couldn’t be going any slower. Only two people ahead of you now.

You check your phone for the fifth time in the past 10 minutes, no update. Must not be running as late as you thought. You shift your weight to your other foot only to start taping once again. Ok sure, you weren’t late, it doesn’t mean you like how long this damn lady is taking.

The line moves up as the teller begins helping the next person. You attempt to swallow your impatience as best you can, pulling out your phone again to quickly slide between apps, but the longer you stand there the louder the ticking of the clock seems to echo around the room.

Looking away from your device, you take another look around the room. Nothing has changed since you came in. In between the doors and the lines, there was a seating area filled with two uncomfortable-looking couches facing each other and a coffee table between them. There were still 3 tellers sitting at their desks, 10 customers in line counting you. Two in the first line, three in the second, yourself, and two others in the last. About as busy as you would expect at this time of day. But the waiting still sucked.

Finally, you hear the teller ask “is there anything else I can help you with?” And you know that soon it will be your turn at the window. Pulling out your phone again you shoot a quick text.

[ it’s my turn next, hopefully, I’ll be out of here soon ]

1:24pm

Just as the woman in front of you steps away a notification dings on your phone.

[ See you soon ;) ]

1:25pm

You sighed at your boyfriend's message, thinking the winky face was a bit on the nose for your taste. But Hongjoong liked to tease.

Dropping your phone back into your pocket, you look up just as the teller motions you forward. The click of your shoe against the tile seems almost deafening in the quiet room as you step forward, trying to mask the small smile Hongjoong’s message had given you.

“what can I help you with today?” The lady at the counter-question with subdued chirpiness. Clearly, she has had a long day, already ready for it to be over. The thought made you wince.

“Hi, there seems to be a problem with the direct deposit on my account. My last paycheck didn’t go in.” You start, placing both hands on the counter.

The teller nods, with mock understanding, clearly just an impulse for years of customer service. Somewhere outside several car doors slam, but no one inside seems to notice the sound.

“Could I have the number of the account?” The teller asks, placing both hands on the keyboard and frowning at the screen, prepared to type whatever comes out of your mouth. You don’t have time to say it.

All the lights on the monitor suddenly shut off. The woman helping you looks taken aback for a second, looking over to her coworkers only to see them doing the same. The hairs on the back of your neck shoot up as nerves build in your stomach.

The next thing happens so quickly you barely register it. The glass door slides open and a metal canister flies into the room. Acting on instinct your hands fly to your ears, your eyes screwed shut, and you drop to your knees. Even with your ears covered it does little to silence the ear-splitting bang that rips through the room. It sends the rest of the room's inhabitants to the floor seconds after you, either from shock or from the disorienting mix of light and sound that came from the small device.

Flashbang.

Your heart jumps up to your throat. You open your eyes but did not let your hands drop just yet. The ring was still sounding in the room, but the blinding light had gone. Just as the last of the ringing fizzled out the doors slid open again.

A group of masked figures took confident strides into the room. Your eyes searched the street behind them, looking for anyone who might notice what’s going on. There was no one. Your stomach dropped again. The others in the room finally seemed to be regaining their hearing and sight, only to shriek when the men came into view. Swallowing your nerves you do a headcount of the patrons. Three tellers, ten customers including yourself. All adults, no children. That was good, children would cause problems.

After assessing the situation and taking a few deep breaths, you look over to the group of men who were starting to spread out around the room. The more you looked at them the more frightening they appeared. Each of the men were were dressed head to toe in black with a mask covering the bottom half of their faces, but even as you sized them up you avoided looking at their eyes, drawing attention to yourself now would be stupid.

Every one of them carried a gun. But as they fanned out across the room only one had it pointed. The same one that spoke.

“Anyone not on the ground better get that way. We don’t have all day.” The voice that spoke was calm but had a clear edge. The tones meaning ran clear in your ears as much as everyone else’s, calm does not mean forgiving. You kept your head down, trying your best to sink into the shadows trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself, that’s what people always said to do right?

You heard a few thuds as the few people in the room who remained standing dropped to the floor. None of the other patrons or staff said a word. Thank god, fighting would make this much more difficult.

“Great, now I want everyone’s hands on the ground in front of them. Try to call anyone and one of us will put a new hole in your head, so why don’t we make this easy and nobody make a sound.” The voice continued in that same tone. Your eyes shot up to make sure everyone was following orders as you placed your own hands on the cold tile next to your bare knees, they were already getting stiff and you hoped this would be over quickly.

A few of the men began walking through the people on the floor, hands on their guns but not drawn, checking just as you did that everyone was behaving. As one of the taller ones drifted toward your spot you stared at the same tile a few feet ahead of you, matching the other patrons around you.

You heard the heavy thuds of footsteps as they paused in front of you, just for a moment. You felt the gaze burn into the top of your skull as you stared forward, holding your breath.

“You don’t look nearly scared enough.” The new voice spoke, completely nonchalant. The next moment, a heavy leather boot pressed down onto your hand, crushing it against the tile. You winced and let out a small cry as pain shot up your arm. It stung as he dug his foot harder onto your hand. Both hands started to shake as the pain built, the knot that had formed in your chest from the moment the flash-bang fell through the air tightened till your breath became choked and shaky. Suddenly the pressure was gone.

“Much better,” the voice all but giggled before moving on.

You took a heaving breath as soon as the boots left your field of vision. You felt sweat start to form on your brow bone. You looked up again. A few terrified faces of other patrons looked at you with fear, clearly expecting that the man was going to blow your head off.

The man who spoke first stepped forward and motioned to the middle teller who was watching petrified from behind his desk, head barely peeking over the edge.

“You,” he started again, taking long strides across the room, walking within a few feet from you on your right side to the opening that led behind the counter, “Why don’t you show me to the safe?” He asked, voice still disconcertingly cordial. The teller gapped for a moment, and the man tilted his head expectantly. The teller stumbled to his feet, eyes not moving from the shiny gun trained on him. He did little more than gesture vaguely for the man to follow him before they both disappeared behind the doors that lead to the back of the bank, 2 of the other men followed behind him.

The room was stiff with tension. For the patrons at least. All of you seemed to be holding your breath, but the men could not seem calmer. Their postures were relaxed, many of them had their arms crossed over their chest or were leaning against furniture. None of them even had their weapons drawn, but they were still visible. Enough to keep everyone shaking with fear with their heads down. It was bizarre but effective for the time being.

Your head was absolutely swimming. Trying to keep notice of the positions of everyone in the room, taking shooting glances around for a few seconds at a time, checking the faces of your fellow hostages. Everyone knows in situations like this it’s best to just comply, you sure fucking hoped the others knew that as well. You tried to lead by example anyway. And then there were the men. You didn’t dare look any one of them in the eye, knowing what kind of consequences that would bring. But you tried to keep tabs on them. They weren’t moving much in the few minutes since the three men disappeared with the teller, but any slight movement they gave was noteworthy into your mind. You had to keep things under control.

The minutes ticked on in almost complete silence, save for the one man who was humming of all things. How could they possibly be relaxed right now you did not know. The sound was harsh against your ears for how gentle it was, it kept distracting you from your thoughts.

The thought in question was a dangerous one. Your back was beginning to ache from being hunched over and your palms were sweating uncomfortably against the marble. From where you sat against the furthest teller window you were blocked from the direct view of every robber by either furniture or walls. What you wanted to do was risky, any slight movement on their behaves would land you in their line of sight. That was an opportunity for anyone who could take it.

You need to text Hongjoong. He needed to know what was going on. You watched the men carefully for the next few minutes, looking for any sign that they might start looking around, but they all seemed perfectly content in their places. With a shaking hand, you slowly began reaching into your pocket. You managed to pull the device out without anyone noticing, but as you slid it into your lap and under your shirt one of the other patrons saw, and their eyes shot wide open. Shit.

They looked at you with frantic, pleading eyes that screamed call for help. They were looking too obvious. You swallowed and shook your head, trying to get them to look away, but they didn’t.

“Heads down,” a deep voice called. Both you and the other patron snapped your eyes to the floor, but after listening for a few seconds it didn’t sound like anyone was moving toward you. You were still blocked from view. With a shaky breath, you slowly pulled the phone out. Unlocking it silently, you pressed on the messages app.

“Well, what’s this?”

Dread shot through you. The man had reappeared from the back, slinking quietly to your side somehow without you noticing. Your head shot up to look at him as he stood, barely 5 feet away from you staring down at your phone. The entire room's attention was now on you. You felt your blood freeze in your veins as the eyes above the mask narrowed into a glare. You didn’t even move to hide the phone, you didn’t move to do anything. You just sat there, staring dumbly back into his eyes. You heard the distant sounds of fear from the hostages and soft chuckles from the men.

The bag he had slung over his shoulder was tossed to the nearest member of his crew, the two that had followed him into the back of the back reappeared, took one look at the scene, one shaking his head before they both carried on out the door with the three bags.

A hand shot into your hair, grabbing it by the roots and pulling you to your feet. Your scalp burned, the pain was so sharp and sudden your eyes screwed shut and you lost Yoruba balance. Disoriented, you let out a shriek at the pain and if it weren’t for the grip on your head you would have fallen right back down. The phone was ripped from your hand. The man slid his hand from your hair to grasp the back of your neck firmly as he looked over the screen. When your eyes opened he was scrolling through the messages from half a moment before laughing a full and wicked laugh.

“Texting your boyfriend? How cute.” He all but cackled. He observed your face, your eyes hard and pricked with tears, and he giggled again. Shoving your phone into his pocket, he motioned to the others before pulling you towards the door. You stumbled over your legs multiple times, letting out cries and hisses as you went but doing little to resist.

The other hostages, let out distraught sobs but you blocked them out, their sympathy would do nothing for you now.

You were pulled out of the building at the same moment the sound of engines roared to life. In one quick glacé you saw that the street was still deserted.

Your back was slammed against the wall of the bank, just out of view of those inside and the barrel of the man's gun was trained on you. You shut your eyes tight.

You heard a bang. And the wailing cries of the hostages inside.

Then familiar lips crashed onto yours. It wasn’t really a kiss, more of a peck. The man's lips moved against yours for only a few seconds, so little you had no time to react before they were gone.

You opened your eyes. His mask was pulled back up, and he had taken a step back. His gun was already holstered at his side.

You didn’t have to see the bottom half of the man's face to know he was smirking. You pushed yourself off the wall and glared at him. At that moment two cars pulled out of the parking lot, one stopping directly in front of you. With a huff you pushed past the man who you could almost guarantee was still grinning.

Opening the door you slid into the backseat against the far window and crossed your arms over your chest. Seconds later the man got in and closed the door. And you were off.

“Come on your not actually mad are you,” he giggled, pulling down his mask.

“You damn near pulled my hair out Hongjoong! Of course, I’m mad!” You spat. You heard the two in the front seat chuckle.

“Oh don’t think you're off the hook Yunho. What the fuck was that? Since when was breaking my hand apart of the plan?” You hollered, kicking your foot against his seat. This only lead to more giggling. You resiliently stared forward, not looking at to boyfriend. He didn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest. Hongjoong slid across the back seat to wrap an arm over your shoulder that even in your rage you didn’t have the heart to shake off.

“But it’s not like I was lying! You looked way too calm. If any of them had looked at you it would have been obvious something was up.” Yunho defended, gesturing with the hand, not on the steering wheel.

“Come on, darling. You know we have to make it believable. I can’t have my best spy get their cover blown because I’m too gentle with you.” The arm around your shoulder tightened, urging you to look at him. Finally, you turned to him, smiling at you so brightly you’d think you were on a friendly road trip.

“Besides, I thought you liked it when I pulled your hair?” Hongjoong said with a cheeky wink. At that Wooyoung howled with laughter from the front seat. You blushed crimson and promptly reached your foot over to kick his seat as well.

“Oh shut up. You were going overboard and you know it.” You grumbled with much less enthusiasm. Hongjoong smiles softly at your pout before leaning back in his seat, giving you a bit more space. Comfortable silence lasted only a few minutes as you drove on before Hongjoong spoke up again.

“Why did you pull your phone out anyway? That was dumb, even if you are on our side.” He asked, fingers rubbing circles comfortingly against your shoulder. You sighed.

“Because the rest of the boys fucked up.” You replied plainly, but still easing into your boyfriend's touch. Both Yunho and Wooyoung made offended noises from the front seat, but you carried on.

“The way they were positioned was wrong. There were blind spots, several actually. You’re just lucky I was the only person in one. I figured I should let you know in case it became a problem.” You continued.

“Hmm,” Hongjoong muttered. While he heard the sound of your voice, you doubted he was listening, as his hand instead taken to playing with your fingers in your lap.

“Isn’t the whole idea of having someone undercover on the inside, so they can tell us where the blind spots are?” Wooyoung asked from the front seat, still clearly offended at your statement.

“I told Yeosang, it’s not my fault you guys planned to take him in the safe this time instead of keeping him in the lobby like always.”You shot back. But even that was half-hearted. Your body really did ache after being hunched on the hard ground for 10 minutes without moving, and the comforting touch of your boyfriend's hands made you melt into the seat, all the tension and worrying about ways it could go wrong eased off your body in waves.

You all could talk about how it went and what needed to be tweaked next time later, right now you just wanted to rest. Hongjoong pulled you against his chest by your shoulder sensing your quick drop in energy.

Just as you were about to doze off a thought popped into your head.

“Hongjoong?”

You could feel the hum he gave in response against your cheek, telling you to continue.

“Are you sure you should have pretended to shoot me? I mean, best case scenario local police add murder onto our rap list. Worst, they find out you have a man on the inside. Either one is bad.” You murmur into his chest. Your group had never killed before as there had never been any need to, and it wasn’t something that any of you really wanted to do.

“That’s only a problem if they catch us.” He replied. Sounding, as always, perfectly certain of himself.

-

Living like this had its pros and cons, much like anything else. The main con being having to drive long ways away for jobs, just as a way to keep yourself safe. Which sometimes meant pulling over on the side of the road at any ditch or shitty motel for the night before getting back to your homes.

As your vehicles pulled into a run-down motel about a mile off the main highway, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had gone into the lobby parading as drunk college students on a road trip to rent the rooms for the night. Needless to say, it had been a long day, the other boys meandered to their rooms and probably fell asleep the moment their heads hit the pillows. But not you.

You had been patiently waiting on the hood of the car you arrived in, for the moment Hongjoong got back. And when he did reappear and the others disappeared, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to go lay down as quickly as they did.

As the crunch of their footsteps on gravel faded till they were indoors, you turned your head upwards to the sky. It was late at night and in the middle of nowhere like this, you could see millions more stars than in your home. Hongjoong kept his place, leaning on the car hood next to where you sat, looking up as well but not at the infinite sky like you. No, he was watching your face.

You don’t know exactly how long you sat there, looking up at the sky but you know your neck had begun to ache when Hongjoong finally pulled himself onto the hood of the car next to you. You naturally came to rest your head on his shoulder, still looking up at the stars, but now in your peripheral vision, you could still see Hongjoong studying your expression carefully.

“Something on your mind?” You ask in a quiet voice, still looking up. Hongjoong stirred, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. You tear your gaze from the stars to look at him. The moon cast a pearly light on his face that in your eyes made him glow.

“Sometimes I think I ruined you,” though his words were serious the giggle he gave at the end showed he had no real remorse. You still scoffed.

“I was a criminal long before I meet you Kim Hongjoong, don’t go thinking you

drastically changed the course of my life.” You reply in a dry tone, even if he was joking, it was still a point you wanted to drive home. He had no reason to be guilty with how you turned out, you were probably safer with him and the others than where you were before. He laughed at you again.

Hongjoong laughed at everything. And his laugh was one of the best things about him. Looking at him now, it gets harder and harder to imagine what your life would have been like without him.

“Babe, you were a petty thief, I turned you into a serial bank robber. I consider that pretty drastic.” He shot back, reaching up to pretend to fix your hair.

“If it wasn’t you, it would have been somebody else, and between us? I’m glad it was you.” Your words came out slightly more sentimental than you had anticipated and when Hongjoong fell silent next to you, you promptly blushed and turned back to the stars.

You and Hongjoong very rarely spoke about stuff like this. Even if neither of you would ever admit it, the truth of living life like this is that all it takes is one day, one mistake, for the family you created and the life you live to come crashing down around you. The span of a few minutes could be the difference between running off into the sunset and quite literally never seeing each other again. And after the slight hiccup, you had today that only you had noticed at first, that thought was at the forefront of your mind.

So basically you liked to live in the moment.

It was quiet for a few minutes, him watching you and you watching the sky. There was a very slight breeze in the air, but the summer air was made it more of a gentle cool wind than an uncomfortable chill.

“It’s getting late, you should go to sleep,” Hongjoong muttered. Quieter than his usual quip.

“I slept in the car.” You replied easily. Which was true, and while that nap had been anything but restful with the constant bumps in the road, he didn’t need to know that.

“Oh well, here I was trying to get you in bed but I guess you don’t want to.” He sighed, regaining some of the playfulness from earlier while running a teasing hand up your spine. It gave you shivers, but you had no desire to give in to him so easily.

“Who says we need a bed?” You ask matter of factly. Turning to give him the same wink he had laid on you earlier in the day. Jobs like the one you did today always put you on edge, no matter how many times you did it. Unlike the rest of them, it took you hours to fully relax and admit safety enough to let your guard down. You would never call Hongjoong carefree, but he did have a habit of trying to jump you the moment you were a safe distance away. Hongjoong leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Are you asking me to take you on the hood of this car? Because trust me, darling, I would.” Shivers his your spine once again, but you weren’t quite down bantering yet. You turned your head away from him to look at the beat-up old motel and the deserted parking lot you sat in. Motioning to it all you replied.

“Is this the most romantic place you could find?” You ask, each word oozing with how unimpressed you were by the scenery. At that Hongjoong placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at the millions of shining stars once again. You could feel his next words before they came.

“I don’t know, I think I did a pretty good job.”

It’s true, looking straight up and nowhere else gave the impression that you were sitting on the top of a mountain, the entire world below you and nothing but heaven above. Cheesy, but effective.

Hongjoong accurately assumed your silence meant he had won. Pushing you by your shoulder till your back hit the cool metal, your eyes stayed trained on the sky above. Your legs hung over the front of the car, pushed up only slightly till you lay with most of your body on the hood. Hongjoong’s moonlight face still hung in your peripheral, hanging over you slightly.

You stared straight into the sky as Hongjoong slung his body over yours, trapping your hips to the metal with his own.

“Please tell me you're not going to be super dramatic about this?” You as with your last dreg of defiance. He smirked at you.

“Babe, this is going to be the most dramatic moment of your life.”

And with that, Hongjoong leaned down over you, connecting your lips with a heated kiss. Your arms automatically slung around his neck, pulling him closer. Your breath hitched almost immediately, feeling all strength leave your body as you melted into the kiss. Hongjoong took time to switch between a long slow-paced drag of his lips across yours, to nipping and sucking gently at your bottom lip as he pleased. The air no longer seemed like a necessity, when staying like this forever got more and more appealing.

Running his lips down to your jaw you almost rolled your eyes when you felt Hongjoong suck a rather impressively sized hickey right onto the underside of your jaw. It would perfectly match the fading ones that dotted your collar bones and the base of your neck, though the placement of this one would be much more visible.

Hongjoong’s hand took hold of your waist, slipping his fingers under the hem of your shirt and pushing it to bunch up over your chest, exposing you to the cool night air. He hadn’t removed it completely, but nonetheless he leaned back to admire. The ghost of a smirk wormed its way onto his lips as he ran his soft fingertips along the marks he gave you.

Staring at the ones lower on your stomach, trailing up your body with feather light touches. Your eyes screwed shut when he brushed over the ones on your breast. The bra you had been wearing today was nothing special, if not a little plain, but you could barely stand the heat of his gaze as it traveled up your body along with his hand.

Eventually, he reached the newest addition to the collection of purple splotches on your body. Cupping your cheek with his hand he urged your eyes open.

“I go through all this work to get you out under the stars and here you are with your eyes closed. That’s rude of you.” He stated with an exaggerated frown.

“It’s rude to tease,” you tried to sound as playful as him, but it came out as more of a whine. He giggled at you and carried on.

“I’m not teasing, I’m admiring. Now let me continue or you’ll get nothing.” He replies sternly. The mood suddenly shifting as the sparkle in his eye shifted to a darker hungrier look. You gulped slightly before letting your head fall back against the metal to stare up at the sky again. You felt Hongjoong’s mouth on your body again. His warm lips giving new life to some of the more faded marks on your chest. The cool air suddenly felt incredibly hot as your boyfriend's hands ran up and down your sides, occasionally stopping to squeeze whatever flesh he could grasp. Each time pulled another sound past your lips, although you did your best to muffle them.

“You look so pretty like this baby,” he remarked, barely pulling away, “I want to hear how pretty you sound too.”

It wasn’t spoken like a command, but you took it as one. Letting your mouth hang open in a moan when Hongjoong took one of your breasts in his palm, kneeling it slightly before pulling your bra down just enough to free it. He wasted no time in dragging his tongue over your nipple, then sweeping back down to suck a mark directly on the underside of your boob.

Your legs clenched together as he worked, the small amount of friction it gave in your shorts only served to drive you to more extremes when you rolled your hips against his. You groaned startlingly loud at that, the sensation of his hard dick pressing against your core even through the denim of both your pants pulled wetness from your core quicker than you would ever care to admit.

Hongjoong pulled away with a laugh, sitting up straight to look down at your already keening expression.

“Calm down baby, we have all night. No need to rush.” He chuckled at you. Despite his words, he took almost immediate action, running his hands up your bare thighs till his fingers hook on the waistband of your shorts. He pulled them down, but only just enough. Slipping his hand between your legs to cup your heat, while palming himself over his jeans. You whined again and clamped your legs around his hand, holding it in place. Despite your body’s subconscious efforts, he slid his finger over your cunt through your damp underwear.

Under any other circumstances, it would have been incredibly embarrassing how wet he made you from just touches to your body, but at the moment all you could think about was how desperately you wanted him to continue.

“Your soaking wet already, it feels like cheating with how quickly your body reacts to me.” He mutters, pressing two fingers against your hole, with nothing but a thin scrap of fabric keeping them from pushing inside you.

“Hongjoong, please fuck me. I’m begging you.” You groan, rolling your hips against his hand repeatedly. He broke out in a wide smile.

“I like the sound of you begging. Do it again for me.” He commands, voice laced with honey. You took a shuddering breath, turning your eyes to meet his with a pleading look.

“Please, I need you to fuck me.” You beg with all the desperation you have.

“Oh course baby, all you had to do was ask.” He lilts, tilting his head to the side with a sickly sweet smile.

Hongjoong pulled his hand from your core, which left an unhappy feeling in your stomach. But he used said hand to assist in pulling his dick free of his pants which spurred your legs even further apart. Your hands had been hanging uselessly at your side since this all began but as he leaned over your body once again, staring straight down into your wanton face, your hands flung themselves behind his shoulder to hang off of him.

Hongjoong pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, running it through your folds twice, watching as your face shifted from bliss to desperation each time he almost slipped in. And of course, he laughed. But that was the last bit of torture he gave you before sinking into your cunt.

Your synchronized groans sounded throughout the empty parking lot when he finally filled you to the hilt. And with his own patients starting to run as thin as yours he wasted no time in pulling out and thrusting again.

Your back arched more each time he pushed into you, feeling him stretching your walls and brush against the most sensitive spots inside you made your toes curl. And as he began to build pace his deep pants and groans rang in your ears.

He was doing anything but going fast. Long hard and deep thrusts shook your body in a steady rhythm. Your nails dig into his shoulders through his shirt and your mouth hung open as he fucked into you.

“Come on baby, you're not that far gone already are you?” His voice carried a teasing tone, but his own breath had gone shaky. You both stared into each other’s faces, watching each other’s expressions shift with bliss at every thrust. You were moaning and whining freely now. Words have failed you.

You felt the muscles on Hongjoong’s shoulder strain beneath your fingers, and with your orgasm fast approaching your nails practically clawed down his back. Hongjoong hissed above you, but the action did nothing but spur him on.

“Your gonna cum baby? Gonna cum already on my cock? How desperate you must be, to let a criminal have his way with you like this.” He growled the words down at you. His words shot to your core, making you clench around him, with a whine you forced words past your lips.

“I don’t care, just want you.” The words were barely a whisper. But the effect was the same. With a ringing cry, you came undone underneath him. You shook and threw your head back, staring directly into the stars above you. Your body moved of its own accord, but that was all beyond you. The only thing you could think about was the look on Hongjoong’s stunning face as he came hovering above you.

You both basked in the feeling of waves of pleasure rolling over your bodies. Continuing to grind against each other subconsciously as you rode it out.

The cool air returned with a nip. Hongjoong had all but collapsed above you. As you came back to reality the cold metal of the car suddenly felt so comfortable you could fall asleep right there. You felt your eyes being to drift shut.

“Oh no baby, I’m taking you to bed for real this time.” Hongjoong chuckled, pulling himself up to look down at you again. He gave a small smile at your pout.

“Your pretty cute for a dangerous criminal.”

You gathered up the last of your strength to hit him on the shoulder.

-

and this my friends is why I dont make a habit of writing longer things, they just get away from me.

I meant for this to be a short hot sexy lil thing and it turned into this long ass sappy thing

[markleesthighs]

dangerous woman

pairing: idol!mark x richceo!y/n (fem)

genre: strangers to lovers!au, fluff, suggestive to smut

song: dangerous woman by SuperM (Mark’s pov) or Ariana Grande (y/n’s pov)

a/n: mark’s birthday special! Mentions of drinking, rich partying, some dom!y/n and sub!mark (suggestive and smut), also some mommy!kink (please be safe!!)

SuperM was in the US again, for another round of their concerts across the nation. You were a backer behind SuperM, loving their music and overall aesthetic. You’ve never met them since you deposited your money overseas but it would be a simple hello and thank you from them via a card and that would be it. You heard from someone that Mark’s birthday was coming up, and you wanted to give SuperM a proper place to celebrate his birthday. You decided to let SuperM stay and party at one of your mansions for the weekend. Luckily they weren’t performing the day of or day after Mark’s birthday, so it was a perfect opportunity.

You reached out to their managing staff and since you were one of the top backers for them, they humbly agreed. You arranged transportation, food, decorations, drinks, and everything the boys needed for their party celebration. You arrived at their hotel in style in your white Lamborghini, accompanied by your body guards who were driving other patrolling cars, ensuring your safety. One of them opened the door of the car for you and holding your hand. You were dressed in a black Armani pantsuit, black Louboutin heels, a black Louis Vuitton clutch, and Prada sunglasses. You were a showstopper, getting honks from cars in the streets to poor bellhop looking at you in fear. 

You entered the hotel to find the manager of the hotel to greet you. 

“Miss y/n.” The manager spoke as she bowed.

“Hello.”

“They are on the 45th floor in the penthouse suite.”

“Thank you.”

You and your bodyguards promptly went to the elevator up to the 45th floor and walked to their suite. You ringed the doorbell and knocked on the door twice. You heard a manger franticly curse in Korean before opening the door to greet you. You and your bodyguards bowed as you greeted him in Korean, asking him where SuperM was and if they were ready to depart. He apologized saying they were still packing but that you could still come inside. Their manager was yelling in Korean about how you had arrived and they had to hurry up. You walked inside and your bodyguards helped you remove your shoes as you walked into the living room area. 

You removed your sunglasses as you analyzed the room. It wasn’t super messy, just a few snacks and drinks all over the place. You picked up an empty Shin ramen cup, you smiled, these were always yummy to eat after a flight. You wondered if there was any Shin ramen laying around so you got up and found some packs in the kitchen. A member smelled the ramen and walked into the kitchen. 

“Hyung? Are you cooking ramen? Can I have-” 

He saw you and looked at you up and down. 

“Some. “

You turned to look at him, he looked so cute. His hair was still a mess, had his glasses on and a clean shaven face. 

“Wait...y-you’re...y/n! I-I’m so sorry for being informal! I-I’m M-mark from SuperM!” 

He bowed down all the way down on his knees apologizing dozens of times. You turned off the stove and walked over to him to lift his chin up. Mark smelled your Valentino Donna perfume and it was intoxicating to him. You smelled and looked amazing. Your eyes met Mark’s as he innocently gazed at you, you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes. 

“I know who you are cutie.” You giggled. 

Mark got up after mumbling an “o-oh yeah, haha” and scratched the back of his neck. Mark kept staring at you, he had never seen anyone like you, you somehow looked like his ideal type, yet he’d never met you. Mark’s manager noticed him staring at you before he yelled at Mark to go back to his room and continue changing before he embarrasses himself in front of you. Mark apologized as he shyly left in his t shirt and pajama pants. You continued to make your ramen and ate some while you looked on your phone. You could hear the mumbling of the other members talk about you in Korean. 

“Hyung, she’s really pretty.”

“I know, I wonder how old she is.”

“You never ask a woman how old she is!”

“I would kill to date a woman like her.”

“She probably had a boyfriend or even a husband!”

You sat in the living room as each member walked out one by one greeting you and getting to know you. Mark was the last one to arrive and sheepishly apologized before joining his members in the living room. You noticed how almost all the members wore designer clothing (which you complemented them on) except Mark. He wore a simple t-shirt, jeans, baseball hat, and a Jansport backpack. You hadn’t seen one of those backpacks since elementary school. He looked simplistic yet cute, you liked it. 

“So, who’s the lucky birthday boy?” 

All the members turned and gestured to Mark pinching his cheeks and making goo goo noises towards Mark because he was the youngest of the group.

“Oh, so how old are you turning?”

“2-22 in America but 2-23 in Korean age.”

“Oh! I just turned 21 a couple months ago! How interesting. So I guess you’re my Oppa~”

Mark’s face instantly blushed looking away from you while everyone else laughed. You escorted and assigned the guys their cars and which bodyguard they’d be accompanied by. However, everyone was confused that Mark didn’t get assigned a car, which led to you announcing that Mark would be driving with you since he was the birthday boy. Everyone teased Mark with an “Ooh” or an “Ahh” and Kai blurted out in Korean “Don’t have too much fun!” as him, Ten, and Lucas left in their car. A bodyguard took Mark’s luggage and put it in one of the other cars while he gestured Mark to follow you. A bodyguard opened the car doors for you on the driver’s side and Mark on the passenger side. Mark stayed silent when you turned on the car as you prepared to leave. 

“Why so quiet birthday boy? Never been in a Lambo before?”

“Y-yeah, s-sorry that I’m being really awkward.”

“It’s alright, you ready to go?”

“Yeah!”

You and the other cars promptly left the hotel, you could see Mark’s shocked face hearing the engine and watching everyone in the streets look at you and Mark in the car. Mark looked shy and reserved keeping his hands in his lap and trying to not stare at you too much. At a stoplight you caught Mark staring at you so you turned to scare him a bit. 

“You like what you see baby?”

Mark’s ears turned red and he was panicking in the passenger seat. Mark enjoyed everything about you, your smell, look, and confidence. But you were a backer, a business partner, he shouldn’t be flirting with you. But you were so intoxicating and he wanted a little taste. Mark leaned closer to you almost brushing against your lips. 

“Maybe I do.”

Mark looked at you up and down which turned you on a bit. Mark bit his lip as you were about to kiss him, he turned away. 

“The light is green.”

“Fuck you.”

You pulled away and stepped on the gas making Mark fall back into his seat. He could see the annoyed look in your face. He liked it, it made you look cute. You sped your way to your mansion out of frustration and anger, no man has ever left you hanging like that. You stepped out of the car and slammed the door. Your bodyguards, Mark, and the other members had no time to catch up to you or ask you what was wrong. Mark now felt bad, he didn’t want to play with your heart, especially when he has only known you for three hours. Mark took his luggage as he shyly went inside with the other members. 

They were stunned by the mansion, it was shiny like a new toy to all the members. They began to hoot and holler running all over the place, looking at your giant pool, arcade room, and private spa and sauna. While they were running around wondering where they will choose to sleep, Mark wanted to find you. He kindly asked one of the body guards if they knew where your room was and they guided him into your room. 

Mark knocked on your door but there was no response so he slowly opened the door to find you no where in sight. He was confused yet shocked by the volume and luxury of your room. It was huge and simplistic yet it was also refined. Everything was perfectly clean he could smell your perfume all over your room mixed with the smell of your clean sheets. He heard some rummaging from another part of your room which was your closet. There was a crack in the door so Mark slowly approached to take a little peep to see how you were doing. 

He saw you looking around your giant Barbie-sized closet in your cute fuzzy bathrobe and bunny slippers. He noticed you pulling out a few party dresses before you settled on wearing a Versace dress with a pair of matching sandals to match. Mark watched you remove your robe to reveal your matching black lace undergarments and your almost naked body. Mark needed to look away but he couldn’t watching your hips, dips, curves and waist was making his mouth water. He watched as you put on your dress but struggled to zip it up all the way. 

Mark was about to knock on the door and pretend he wasn’t looking before you caught his adorable puppy eyes looking at you through the reflection in your full length three paneled mirror. He looked like a puppy waiting patiently for his owner to come out, you couldn’t help but pout. 

“You can come out Mark.”

Mark was in so much shock that he accidentally bumped into your door falling over onto the cold marble floor. He got up and brushed off himself and kept apologizing for creeping up on you. As you approached him his eyes kept looking down in shame. 

“I-I am s-so sorry! I didn’t mean to look but-”

“But what?” You walked closer to him taking your finger and lifting his chin up. 

“Y-you l-looked really nice.”

“Nice? Just nice?”

“Y-yeah..”

“You’re so cute. You should go get changed and go downstairs before your friends think you’ve gone missing.” You chuckled and tapped his nose. 

After that Mark promptly left your room to go downstairs to join his members in picking their rooms. Taeyong suggested that they check out the upstairs for other rooms, Mark found himself a room that was right next to yours. It was a pretty sizable room, simple decor with a full sized bathroom and walk in closet. Mark got dressed into an all black suit with a black undershirt. Mark styled his hair with a little gel. All the other SuperM members were yelling at Mark to come down to celebrate, ordering limitless amounts of chicken, beer, soju, and watermelon, Mark’s favorite meal. 

Mark walked out of his room to coincidentally see you also walk out of your room. You looked breathtaking, your hair, makeup, everything, everything was perfect. Mark gestured you to go downstairs first and watch you cascade down gracefully. As Mark walked down he could hear all his member’s screaming and clapping. They also invited some friends of Mark’s that were in the area to come help and celebrate. 

Music was blasting, drinks, food, and games were being tossed around everywhere. It was a fun night. You allowed the guys to have their fun, dance around drunk while singing karaoke or playing another round of street fighter. You liked this. You loved that SuperM gave you a taste of what it’s like to be a normal adult in their 20s, living and enjoying their life to the fullest. 

It made you ponder, you never wanted them to leave. They were a breath of fresh air, it gave you an excuse to take three vacation days from your busy schedule. It made you regret throwing yourself into a billion dollar business at 18. You just wanted to have fun, not sit and do paper work all day. But at the end of the day you felt it was worth it, because you would allow people and groups such as SuperM to thrive and bring some sort of happiness to others. 

As you were reflecting you pulled yourself outside onto the pool deck sitting in a lounge chair looking up at the clear sky, listening to your infinity pool brush water off the clear edge. Mark noticed you were alone so he took this opportunity to get to know you, before he considers pulling some real moves. 

“Hey, y/n? You alright?”

“Y-yeah! How’s the party?”

“It’s AMAZING, I can’t thank you enough for giving me a fun-filled and memorable birthday!”

“Of course.”

“Why are you outside, alone?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“What I’m going to do when you guys are gone.”

“Gone?” “Yeah I’d have to fly back to Milan soon for fashion week, I have a fittings, approvals, and adjustments of garments to do.”

“Oh.” Mark looked slightly sad. 

“I just wish you could have stayed longer with me.”

You glanced up at him. 

“Us! I mean- I mean us! SuperM! haha...”

Mark scratched the back of his neck again out of nervousness. You and Mark continued to talk about various things bonding over Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood and Mark getting jealous that you met Justin Bieber once. You noticed the party was dying down so you decided to ask Mark if he wanted to talk to you somewhere more private. He agreed as you secretly dragged him up into your room, hoping his members didn’t see you. 

Mark’s ears felt hot, he felt himself getting excited. He stood near your bed as you closed and locked your door. You pushed Mark down on your bed crawling on top of him. Mark’s eyes were wide in shock and excitement he was waiting in anticipation before you got off of him. Mark frowned sitting up about to stand but before he could protest you started to punish him. 

“Sit.” Mark obediently sat. 

“Good boy” You spoke as you pet his hair.

“Now, because of that little stunt of a tease you did earlier in the car, no touching unless I say got it?” You seductively whispered into his ear.

Mark nodded.

“Good.”

You slowly zipped down your dress as you slowly removed one sleeve from the other. You slid your dress down with your arms down to your ankles giving Mark a clear view of your ass as you bent down. You kicked the dress to the side as you walked to sit on Mark’s lap. You could already feel him getting hard, 

“Aww, is my baby excited?”

“Y-yes.” Mark was about to wrap his arms around you but you stopped them. 

“Nuh-uh, no touching baby.”

Mark pouted.

“Good boys get rewards, are you a good boy?”

“Y-y-yes..”

“Yes who?”

“Yes...miss, y/n.”

You slapped Mark’s cheek. 

“That’s mommy to you. Again.”

“Y-yes, m-mommy.”

“Good, you’re learning. You should be rewarded.”

You shove Mark down onto his back kissing him, tasting soju and watermelon off his lips. Mark was following your rhythm, kissing you back full of passion and licking your tongue every now and then. You started to move down his neck, kissing and sucking on a soft spot. Quiet hissed and moans left Mark’s mouth as you slowly kept kissing down towards his shirt. You ripped open his shirt breaking off a few buttons. You removed his shirt and suit jacket and threw it across the room. 

“My baby is a little toned now isn’t he?”

Mark has a defined six pack which only turned you on more. You kissed down his chest while trailing your fingers down tracing his abs. You pulled down his suit pants tossing them to the side, leaving Mark in his black boxers. You could see his member outlined hardened inside. You palmed his member and Mark’s face shot up to look at you and met your eyes and let out a soft moan from his lips. You pulled down his boxers and saw his member hard, leaking with precum. 

“Baby I didn’t expect you do be so big. Mommy is so proud of you.”

“P-please...”

“Please who?”

“P-please m-mommy touch me.”

“As you wish baby.”

You played with is member pulling it up to watch it fall back and smack against his stomach. You reached into your side drawer and pulled out some lube, pouring some on top of his member before rubbing your hands against it. You could hear Mark cursing with his moans. You went faster and slower, picking up the pace to watch Mark go out of control with higher pitched moans. When Mark was about to climax you pulled your hand away and Mark whined. 

“This is what you get for teasing me in the car.”

“I-I’m sor-rry mommy! Just please!”

“Please what?”

“P-p-please let me cum!”

“Who are you talking to?”

“P-please let me cum mommy!”

As Mark spoke you picked up the pace immediately eventually sucking onto the tip of his member for added stimulation, it didn’t take long for Mark to climax into your mouth, which was a mouthful. You swallowed it and licked the rest off of his member. 

“Baby, you taste amazing.”

Mark was breathless, sweating, and seeing stars. He felt like he just did the hardest workout of his life. You climbed back on top of Mark to kiss him. 

“But...m-mommy?”

“Yes baby?”

“What about you? Shouldn’t you feel good too?”

“But it’s your birthday baby.”

“And I want to make you feel good, please. Let me make you feel good mommy~” 

The way Mark said mommy turned you on so much you wanted to go for a second round. He really knew how to rile you up. Plus, he looked adorable begging, so you gave him a free pass. 

“Alright, since it’s your birthday, you can make mommy feel good, show mommy what you’re made of baby. You are granted permission to touch me however you like baby.”

Mark immediately flipped you over and had you against your headboard with your pillows. He started to kissed you passionately while rubbing you all over your body. He would constantly ask if he was doing good and you would agree and tell him to keep going. Mark tried to remove your bra smoothly but was having some trouble. You kissed him and reassured him it was alright and removed the bra yourself. Mark kissed down your body and pulled down your underwear and he slowly pulled away your legs before licking against your wet cunt. 

“Mommy, you’re so wet...”

“All for you baby, keep going...”

Mark was surprisingly doing well making you feel really good, you were muffling your moans into your pillows before Mark finds your sweet spot which makes you jolt up to push his head down further with his hair. You were a moaning mess, Mark licked and sucked hard down on all the right places causing you to climax, almost crushing Mark’s face between your thighs. Mark smirked before kissing you, now tasting your sweet cunt in his mouth. 

“Can I put it in mommy?”

“Y-yes, please, put it in!”

Mark slowly entered you as you moaned out loud, Mark grabbed your face to look at him, he wanted to see your face. He slowly thrusted into you which felt painful at first but began to feel immense pleasure. Mark was also moaning harmoniously with you, kissing your forehead every couple of thrusts. 

“I-I’m close!”

“Me too!”

“Fuck!”

You both kissed each other as you both climaxed. Mark removed himself from you as he cuddled you into bed under your plush sheets.

“Happy birthday baby.”

[duckymcdoorknob]

😭😭😭😭💍 PLEASE THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY

This was a part of a collab I did with @decembercamiecherries for the ship zine part of @hxhdowntimezine ! You can check out the fic they wrote here!

[marsbutterfly]

Skyfall

Summary: When you are hired to kill the most dangerous mafia boss, things get a little complicated.

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

|◁ II ▷|

“This is the end

Hold your breath and count to ten

Feel the Earth move and then

Hear my heart burst again”

7:34pm

The clock on your wrist tics quietly but in the silent room, it nearly sounds like bombs being dropped from above. Not a word is exchanged between you and the man sitting across the room but you know exactly what he wants.

In his hand rests a dark colored suitcase, you can barely tell until the light hits his belt ever so gently but you finally see the gun he’s been carrying.

You take a deep breath, getting up for your seat. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor fills the atmosphere as you walk towards him, the smirk on his lips is undeniable and you don’t understand what he has to be smiling about.

He stands up a second after you and walks in your direction, bumping against you and dropping his suitcase and the papers in his hand. In response, you throw on the floor the suitcase you once held. 

The man apologizes profoundly as you help him collect the papers on the floor. You say over and over that it is ok, while all the curious eyes in the room land on you. As you stand up, you hand him the suitcase you once had in your hand and he nods, thanking you for the help and apologizing one last time.

You begin to make your way back to your car, the smirk on his lips still engraved in your brain as a chill travels down your spine. “Why was he smiling?” You ask yourself not wanting to admit it but you are a bit scared of knowing the answer.

Though once you open the suitcase, you understand why. Inside, rests the pictures and information of your next target, the millionaire leader of an enemy gang. Though you don’t enjoy taking sides, you’ve been paid a large amount of money to take her out, more than you have ever made.

The war between these two gangs has been going on for the longest time and you have killed enough people on both sides to earn a fair amount of enemies, but this time you couldn’t help but feel a sinking hole opening in your heart.

Hanji Zoe has always been the deadliest member of the underground group. Her kill count is even higher than yours, at least 500+ heads under her belt. They say her torture methods surpass even the ones they use in hell.

She’s known as the Devil herself.

“For this is the end

I've drowned and dreamt this moment

So overdue, I owe them

Swept away, I'm stolen”

8:15pm

Your keys unlock the heavy doors of your house and somehow the marble floors feel colder than ever. Your shoes rest in their designated spot by the coat holder and you throw the suitcase on the couch.

Two cups rest on the counter near the bar area inside your home. One of them contains what you assume is whisky, due to the color and the amount of ice in the cup, it has always been her favorite after a work day.

The lipstick marks are fresh meaning she has just now gotten home. Upon paying closer attention, you realize the shower is on and steam is coming out of the bathroom. You think about joining her but ultimately decide to have a drink first, trying to forget about your next target.

Gently, you take two rocks of ice and place them in the clean cup specifically placed out for you. Pouring yourself a single shot of whisky, you walk towards the balcony feeling as the cold air of the night hits your face.

You knew this day would come but you hoped it would take longer. 

Deep in your own thoughts, you don’t realize the water has been turned off in the bathroom and wet footsteps approach your body.

It’s not until her wet arms wrap around your black dress that you realize you are no longer alone. Her face is buried in your back and you can see steam leaving her arms as the hair on her skin stands up.

The tattoo of your initials on her hand still brings butterflies to your stomach. The memory of the night she got it is still one of your favorite moments you spent together, especially since it was after your first date and she told you she knew you were the one.

“I missed you.” She says, placing a kiss on your skin. You can feel as her breasts are pressed against you and a gasp leaves your body.

“I missed you too.” You reply, a disobedient tear rolling down your face as you chug the contents of the cup in your hand.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, placing her hand on your waist as she turns your body around so you can face her. She is a few inches taller, nothing too extreme but enough to make you look up at her gently.

Her thumb brushes the tear on your cheek before rubbing it above your lips. You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell her the news you just received.

“You are my next target.” You say and Hanji nods, a sad smirk on her lips.

“Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together” 

9:00pm

The brush goes through her hair with ease for the first time, as if she took care of the tangles in the shower already knowing what the news you were bringing would be. After shower moments were the ones where Hanji was the most vulnerable.

She would simply close her eyes and appreciate the attention she’s been given as she fades in the echo of your voice. You hum a melody quietly, Hanji’s favorite song in the hopes to bring her any comfort at all.

Your tears drip down your nose onto her scalp as you put her hair in a ponytail, attempting to help her get ready for the party she will be attending in an hour. At the highest floor of the second tallest building in the entire city.

“How are you going to do it?” She asks, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke up in the air while trying to make rings out of it. You giggle, touching her shoulders before sliding your hands down her arms.

You notice the goosebumps rising on her skin and can’t help but smile at how she reacts to your touch. “Must we talk about it?”

“I need to know.” She replies and you nod, sighing heavily while finally agreeing to talk about the elephant in the room.

“I’ll be on the roof of the Paradise building. I am pretty sure they will send someone to watch me do it.” You begin, spraying the bottle of perfume around her and noticing as the drops of liquid fall on her tan skin, masking the smell of the cigarette.

“But they might not.” She says and you shrug your shoulders.

“They might not.” You say quietly.

“I wouldn’t expect any less from this city’s top 1 assassin.” She says, taking your hand in hers and planting a soft kiss on your palm, leaving behind the red mark of her deep colored lipstick.

She stands up, allowing the robe to fall to the floor and reveal her naked body. You can’t look away from the perfect shape of her breasts, the line that goes through her abdomen from a previous surgery and all of her battle scars.

“Make me yours one last time.” You say, pulling your shirt above her head as you expose yourself to her and she nods, a devious smile curling up on her lips.

You see a few old bullet wounds, some healed while others are still healing. Every single one of them tells a story about who she is and how she has lived her life but your favorite story has always been the one of how she lost her eye.

It was three years ago, the day you met. How could you ever forget?

“Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

Since you were a teenager, you’ve been good at killing. First your shitty parents and every family member who sided with them, including your own brother and sister. Finally being able to control your life, you decided to make a living out of it.

This career put you through college where you earned a chemistry degree, learning how to mix your personal kinds of poison, some of which no one has ever even heard of which makes it hard for the police to find who was responsible for it.

At first, you would go for basic targets: rapists, animal abusers, anyone who dared hurt another soul but word got out of how excellent and quick you were at your job and your number of clients tripled and your name was in everyone’s mouth.

One day, you got a call from a blocked russian number. A smile creeped on your lips as you heard a familiar voice over the phone, Erwin Smith. The man who gave you a chance to grow in this life and made you who you are today, your mentor.

“Y/N, I’m dying.” He says, his voice is faint and you notice his life force is fading away. 

“I can tell.” You reply trying to lighten the mood and he laughs.

“Will you still work for the next boss?” He asks, coughing out a liquid which you could only assume was blood. 

“If that is your dying wish.” You respond and he hums in agreement over the phone, “Then yes.”

Later that week, two men showed up to your house to escort you to Erwin’s funeral. The rain poured over his coffin, hiding away the tears of those who loved him.

Surrounded by at least five men sat a woman in a black coat, her eyes looking in your direction as she took the cigarette to her lips. The tattoos on her leg on display for anyone to see, you could’ve sworn she was silently flirting with you.

And in a moment of weakness, a car drove by shooting up the place completely. Of course they were received with a buffet of bullets as well, but nearly a third of the people around the casket were now dead.

As a bullet makes its way towards you, the brunette with danger in her eyes rushes forward to protect you only to receive the bullet with a glass platter. Needless to say, an uncountable amount of shards found their way into her eyeball.

While she bled in your arms, you tried to make sure she remained awake.

“What’s your name?” You ask and she smiles, bringing your hand towards her lips and licking your thumb with a palpable sexual energy.

“Hanji. Hanji Zoe.” She replied, “The new boss.”

“Skyfall is where we start

A thousand miles and poles apart

Where worlds collide and days are dark

You may have my number, you can take my name

But you'll never have my heart”

10:05pm

Once you are finished redoing Hanji’s hair, she stares at the closet before finally picking out a blood colored suit. No shirt underneath, she places the blazer right above her nipples, only enough to cover them while allowing the rest of her breasts to be exposed.

You on the other hand plan to dress yourself in a completely black outfit hoping to blend into the darkness of the night. Luck was on your side for there were no stars to brighten the sky, allowing you to take complete cover.

As far as you know, nobody is aware of your relationship with Hanji, not even her subordinates. Keeping business away from your private life has always been a priority, even before you committed your first paid killing.

She places a final kiss on your hands and one of your lips, though it does not feel like a goodbye and you sadly accept any kind of comfort you can find.

When her car is out of view, you decide to go up and take a shower by yourself. You wanted to decline this job, to throw everything away: your reputation, the money and simply run away with Hanji to a place where you could live your lives.

But you can’t. Before even knowing who your targets are, you are always made to sign a consent form and if broken, it would cost you your life.

The warm water hits your face and you can still smell Hanji’s strawberry shampoo in the air mixed with the fading smoke of her cigarettes. You begin to remember every shower you spent together, every kiss you shared at the most exquisite places around the world.

Hanji always knew how to make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Eventually, you can no longer if the water streaming down your face comes from the shower or your tears.

As you finish your shower, you begin to get ready. The black outfit had never been colder and the unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach still remains. While putting a mask above your face, you look at your rifle.

It has your initials and Hanji’s secretly carved on the side and on the other it has the date you started dating. A good luck charm, as she liked to call it.

Tonight will be a fucking awful night.

“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

1:53am

Hours have passed since you've been sitting at the top of this building by yourself, looking through the binoculars at the party happening not too far away.  In the end, they decided not to send anyone to watch over your shoulder as you do your job.

The richest and most powerful people in town were all attending and, even though they wore masks, you could still tell exactly who they were. The years of analyzing and recognizing targets from afar has given you the extraordinary ability to identify covered faces.

By the bar, you see her as she rests her arm on the glass top. She looks beautiful. Her whiskey brown eyes match the liquid in her cup as the black mask covers her features. For a second, you could’ve sworn she looked directly at you.

The instructions were clear: at 2am, a single bullet should be shot directly to her head, killing her instantly. So you position your gun, looking through the lense as Hanji disappears in the crowd for a bit before returning to her usual spot.

You sigh, stopping the tears that attempt to cloud your vision. Your finger slowly moves towards the trigger, as if time itself is desperately trying to stop you from killing your loved one, but it doesn’t matter. No one could stop you now.

Counting the seconds, you make sure the shot to her head is clear and you pray she won’t suffer at all. “Goodbye, my love.”

Time nearly stops once you pull the trigger. You watch closely as the bullet goes through her brain and blood splatters across the clear counter causing every person in the room to desperately run for their lives, not knowing they are all safe.

Only one man stands in the room and he raises his glass at you for he is the only one who knows no more shots will be fired. The asshole who hired you to kill the love of your life. Fucking Zeke Yeager.

With every ounce of your body, you decide that killing him isn’t worth it. He deserves to live to suffer in the future.

You bring your body back up, beginning to disassemble your rifle. It takes you less than a minute to be on your way and you can hear as police sirens approach the building in front of you.

“Where you go, I go

What you see, I see

I know I'd never be me

Without the security

Of your loving arms

Keeping me from harm

Put your hand in my hand

And we'll stand”

Finally getting back to your house, you throw the bag containing the gun on the couch before plopping your body right beside it, a long sigh escaping your lips.

Your eyes then notice the packed bags, all ready to leave as soon as possible. The clicking of heels comes from the other side of the house and you smirk, rushing your thumb through your lips.

“I feel bad for the lady you hired to die in your place.” You say, turning around and propping your chin on the back of the couch.

“Would you prefer if I had died in her place?” Hanji asks, rushing her hand through her freshly shaved head in an attempt to get rid of any hairs that still remain attached to her.

“Of course not, love.” You reply, walking towards her before taking the glass of wine from her free hand.

“Hanji Zoe is dead and the witness to it is Zeke Yeager himself.” She says, a devious smile on her lips.

You can’t help but link your mouth with hers, tasting the delightful mixture of alcohols she has had tonight. Her hands travel through your body, exploring every inch of your skin before gently brushing against your inner thigh.

You gasp gently, nearly melting in response to her actions. God knows you want to melt but you don’t have time.

“It’s 4:25am, the plane leaves in 35 minutes so we should go.” She says and you nod.

You grab one of the packed bags plus your rifle and she grabs the rest before extending her hand to you, hoping to walk away from this life with you by her side but not before staging your own kidnapping and death, everything so no one would ever look for either of you.

Once done with arrangements, she smiles. 

“So where are we going to make our new home?” You ask.

“My home is wherever you are.” She replies and you feel your cheeks getting warm before she continues, “But I was planning the Carribeans.” 

“Fuck yes.” Is all you say and she laughs, squeezing your hand as you both say goodbye to the apartment you’ve shared for years. Leaving behind a life of danger to live together in the house of your dreams, far away from all the negativity.

Just you and Hanji. And maybe a few cats and dogs along the way.

“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

[duckymcdoorknob]

LEE VENTI LEE VENTI LEE VENTI LEE VENTI

Comeuppance {Aether, Lumine, and Venti}

A/N: we talked about this a little bit in the discord server a while back and it has finally come to fruition uhuhu~ Hope y’all like this one! I had a lot of fun with it oughhh

Summary: Sitting in the fields, Venti decides to mess with Aether. But when Lumine finds out just how much he teases her brother, how will she serve his comeuppance?

Word Count: 1.4k (under the cut)

Lumine, Aether and Venti sat underneath the tree at Windrise, laying down in the grass, Venti laying between the twins with his arms behind his head as he hummed, Aether quietly snoring next to him as Lumine sat on his opposite side, hands folded neatly over her stomach.

“Aether~ Wakey wakey~” Venti teased, glancing over at the sleeping boy, one hand on his stomach with the other lazily held above his head. Venti grinned, poking Aether’s underarm a few times, making the blonde squeak and quickly jolt awake.

“Ventiiii,” Aether whined, propping himself up on his elbows as Lumine glanced over at the two boys, Venti chuckling as he stuck out his tongue, shrugging.

Keep reading

[uwuwriting]

Midoriya, Todoroki and Mirio waking up with kisses

Request: May I request best boys Todo, Mirio and Deku waking up with kithes. They’re all grown up and maybe the kithes aren’t coming only from the reader......okay I may want them to have kids and be all cute. - anonymous

Um excuse me who gave you the right to make this cute request? I have weak resolve and um ->this<- close to writing another dad fic. I LOVE TODOROKI SO MUCH I SWEAR I COULD DIE! Sorry for the small break I took yall but I’m back and better than ever *that's an overstatement bc my allergies decided to ruin my summer*. Hope you like it. Love ya. 💖💖💖

rules

warnings: characters are aged up, todoroki and mirio are dads, deku is a dad to be, fluff till your very soul

Midoriya Izuku

-Izuku is a very busy hero. 

-Being the number one in Japan and running his own hero agency is very tiring. 

-He loves spending time with you and really tries to make it up to you whenever he is called into an emergency. 

-Now, Izuku as an expecting dad is a whole other issue. 

-He doesn’t spend as much time at his agency, deciding to take his paperwork home and do it while you’re in his line of vision. 

-Being such an important and strong hero puts both you and your child in danger so he prefers being in a one mile radius. 

-Helicopter dad 99% of the time. 

-There are however, times when he has to go to the agency or on patrols. 

-And there are times when he has to answer to an emergency. 

-This was one of those times.

-He was chilling on the couch while you basically slept on him, on hand massaging your lower back and one rubbing soft circles on your belly feeling the baby kick once in a while. 

-He loves feeling them kick.

-They always do when he touches your belly. 

-You told him that they already love him, “reacting to their daddy’s touch is a sign of pure affection”.

-Now many things happened at once. 

-They gave a rather powerful kick, waking you up with a whine while his phone started ringing on the coffee table. 

-He had to leave and you almost had to kick him out the door since he didn’t want to leave. 

- “But why do I have to go???? I wanna stay with my babies!”

- “MIDORIYA IZUKU!”

-He came home really late that night and collapsed on the bed, wrapping you in his arms nuzzling into your hair before drifting off to sleep. 

-It was one of those rare mornings when you woke up first, from a kick...again.

 -You expected Izuku to be already awake but nope, he was snoozing. 

-You really cherished these moments. 

-You never truly got to see him really relax anymore, both with hero work and his constant worry for the baby he always had that wrinkle in between his brows.

-Even asleep. 

-Last night’s fight must have taken a lot out of him.

-Getting restless you decided to nuzzle into his neck, leaving feather light on his shoulder, neck and jaw. 

-He didn’t even stir. 

-Trailing up his jaw you left a kiss on each cheek and two on his nose before cupping his face and peppering his forehead. 

-The last kiss was on his lips, feeling him kiss back as he finally woke up. 

- “Mmm good morning.” 

-You just kissed his nose again making him scrunch it up.

-Placing his hands on your sides, his thumbs rubbed your belly as his lips followed their own trail along your face.

-You giggled as he explored your face letting out small whines every time he kissed a rather ticklish spot. 

-He finally reached your lips giving you a long kiss and bringing you flush to his chest. 

- “I wish I could wake up like this every morning.”

-Just then your kid decided it was a good time to sucker punch you in the liver, giving their father their own little good morning.  

-Izuku chuckled at your groan and leaned down pecking your stomach. 

- “Good morning to you too little one.”

Bonus

- “I think I might be having a kidney failure.”

- “Y/N come on don’t be dramatic.” 

- “You want me to kick you in the balls?”

- “No.....”

- “Good now less talking more kisses.”

Todoroki Shouto

-Shouto having a day off is a blessing. 

-Your daughters are angels whenever their dad is home wanting to let him relax.

-When I say that the twins are daddy’s girls I mean it. 

-It’s not only about them getting what they want it’s also about loving their dad unconditionally. 

-They don’t see him as the easy parent who will let them go on with their shenanigans unbothered. 

-They just see him less and really miss him so they usually do their best to give him a relaxed and happy afternoon or day off. 

-So when he told you that he was taking the week off you guys were so excited. 

-Your girls even though they were like three stayed calm and collected, dawning their dad’s infamous poker face when he came home that night, playing quietly on the living room floor. 

-The night was really quiet. 

-You knew that the girls were excited and were bubbling with energy, they talked your ear off when you broke the news to them but they also wanted their dad to relax. 

-Really you could never truly understand them.

-They were the most considerate toddlers you have ever met.

 -Since they know that their parent’s jobs are hard, since you are both in the hero business, they always restrained themselves. 

-The toddlers Fuyumi or Natsuo described while the babysat, the constantly arguing and bickering twins, were a far cry from what you saw at home. 

-Sure they had their slip ups but they were generally well behaved. 

-The did crawl onto their dad’s lap though at the end of the night, snuggling into his relative sides and snoozing off almost immediately. 

-The next morning you woke up first.

-Todoroki was sleeping almost on you, his arms around your waist as his head was buried into your neck. 

-He looked really tired last night, poor baby must have been exhausted. 

-You moved some of his hair from his eye tracing the red skin of his scar with your fingertip. 

-Long into your relationship he had told you that he felt self conscious about his scar. 

- “Not many people will find this attractive, I-I think you could do much better than this.” 

-From that day on you had made it your mission to make sure he knew you loved him, scar and all. 

-Leaving a few kisses on his forehead you raised his head slightly bringing your lips to the scarred tissue of his eye as you left feather light kisses on the red skin. 

-When his grip on your waist tightened you let his head rest back on your chest and whispered a soft I love you. 

-That’s when you heard the pitter patter of little feet on the marble floor of your home. 

-Whispers could be heard from outside your door and only caught the words ‘breakfast’ and ‘you’re stupid’, before your bedroom door opened ever so slightly.

-Two heads of fluffy hair, one snow white and one fiery red, walked in and made their way to your bed. 

-You stifled your laughter as one of your three year olds tripped over one of Shouto’s shoes grabbing onto her sister for support.

-You could feel the glare the white haired girl gave to her twin without having to see it. 

-They made their way to your side of the bed, locking eyes with you and waddling to you as quietly as possible. 

-They both gave you a few kisses before looking at their dad who was completely oblivious to all this. 

-You motioned to them to go around the bed and climb on from his side.

-The twins nodded and before you knew it the two of them were looming over Shouto.

-You kinda expected them to plop down on him and give him a heart attack but you melted when your girls just laid their heads on their dad’s back. 

-Shouto stirred at the extra weight but he didn’t wake up. 

-After like ten minutes of your snuggling, the twins got restless and started their master plan of waking their father up. 

-One of them settled fully on his back while the other moved some of his hair from his eyes, like you had done previously.

-Then the assault began. 

-Soft kisses on his forehead, cheeks, under his eye, on his nose. 

-Really anywhere they could reach.

-Soon enough Shouto woke up a smile adorning his features as he slowly wiggled out of your arms, placing the twins between the two of you. 

-He rested his chin on your white haired daughter and brought an arm over both of them reaching for your hand on the other side. 

- “Good morning snowflakes.” 

- “Good morning daddy.” 

-He made all of you snuggle with him for half an hour before scooping his girls into his arms and walking out the door to make breakfast. 

-One of his top mornings no doubt. 

Bonus

- “We tried to make breakfast.”

- “But Ren burned the toast.”

- “And you froze the juice.”

- “My little girls are not the best cooks huh?”

-*incoherent mumbling*

Mirio Togota

-To say that Mirio is busy is an understatement. 

-Being the owner of a large hero agency and doing his own hero work on the side even though he no longer has his quirk really takes a toll on him. 

-Having a four year old son didn’t make things easier. 

-He wanted to be there for his child like his father was there for him.

-He hits him really hard when he comes home one night and he finds his son sleeping on the living room couch clearing waiting for him to come home. 

-Until recently the two of them had a ritual before they went to bed. 

-Your son said that it scared the nightmares away. 

-But a handful of paperwork had fallen into Mirio’s hands forcing him to stay longer at the agency, missing his son’s bedtime by two hours. 

-It was the first night that you ad let him wait for Mirio knowing how ever since their small ritual stopped happening , nightmares had been keeping the little boy awake. 

-But alas sleep had won him over and now he was being carried to bed by his dad. 

-Mirio almost had a breakdown later saying that he was a horrible father. 

-You had to calm him down by giving him some examples of him being an amazing dad before luring him to bed. 

-Later that night your son woke up from a nightmare, trembling and crying out for his parents. 

-He spent the night in your bed, Mirio placing him in the middle bringing him flush to his chest. 

-He calmed down rather quickly and was asleep in no time, you two following suit soon after. 

-The next morning you woke up to small kisses on your  forehead as chubby hands held your cheeks. 

-It was the cutest thing you had ever seen. 

-Big blue eyes looked back at you as you opened your eyes, a small twinkle in them. 

-You brought him into a hug, rubbing his back softly as your other hand reached out to grab Mirio’s under the sheets. 

-After a mini cuddle session with mini Mirio you motioned to big Mirio and winked at your son. 

-Slowly getting up you straddled his hips as you placed your son gently on his chest. 

-He let out a low grunt but only placed a hand on your hip turning his head to the side. 

-Then you dove in.

-You left small kisses on his jaw, cheeks and lips while your son hugged him really really tightly. 

-Your kiss attack continued until Mirio’s giggles bounced off the walls, his arms shooting up to wrap around your back, trapping both of you in his embrace. 

-It was his turn to attack you both with kisses, not holding back at all.

-Really your plan kinda back fired. 

-When you finally got up almost an hour later, Mirio had that proud smile on his face. 

- “Maybe I’m not that bad of a dad after all.”

-You just kissed him again a little more passionate now that you were out of your son’s sight. 

Bonus

- “W-when did you come down? I didn’t hear you coming down the stairs.”

- “He has your quirk you dummy!”

- “Don’t call dad a dummy!”

- “Go put some pants on you shrimp!”

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​

[quiet-onset]

New Suit

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k+

A/N: it’s been forever since I’ve posted, but I have been writing since I was stuck at home with covid 😅 Hopefully I can post something else next week too! ANYWAYS, this fic does not have any TFAWS spoilers and (as usual) does not give a fuck about Endgame, meaning our favorite dysfunctional couple Tony and Steve are alive. Steve simply passed on the mantle. Enjoy!

So Sam was Captain America. And he was proud of that fact. 

The day that Steve decided to retire and give him one of his most prized possessions was a day Sam would never forget. A whirlwind of emotions had swelled in his chest. Shock, unworthiness, gratitude. But after talking it over with Steve — and surprisingly enough, with Bucky — Sam agreed to take in the role.

The thing was, no one knew yet. At least, no one outside of the Avengers facility.

Immediately after Thanos, there weren’t really any Avengers level threats. Most threats could be handled by one team member, and it was usually one of the newbies — Peter, Scott, even Wanda. That being so, Sam didn’t have much of a reason to even make public appearances. So he didn’t.

Sometimes, he’d stand in the training room, the red, white, and blue shield strapped to his arm, and just stare in the mirror. Something felt wrong. Out of place. Like the reflection before him was almost right, but he still couldn’t tell what was wrong. Tony had caught him one time as he stepped into the room, a sports bottle full of ice cold water in his hand. “Mid-life crisis?”

Sam jumped at his loud voice and almost scrambled to detach the shield from his arm, like a kid caught with his grubby little hand in the cookie jar. “My bad, I’ll just—“

“No no, keep it on.” Tony waved a hand. “I gave it to Steve, he gave it to you. It’s yours, no give backsies.”

Sam nodded but took the shield off anyway. He decided that he didn’t need to train anymore and headed toward the door. “I’m just gonna go put this back.”

“What is going on with you, Wilson?”

“What do you mean?”

Tony raised a brow, “What do I mean? You staying cooped up in this facility. Barely training with the shield. Opting out of assignments. That’s what I mean.”

“There’s not much of a need.”

“There is. You just don’t see it yet.” Tony walked toward him. “Look, I know being the new Cap has you freaked out—“

“I’m not freaked out.”

“Sure. But Steve chose you and that should be good enough.”

“It is.” Sam huffed as he turned the shield in his hands. “I don’t know, man. I just… It’s just hard to believe. Hard to put in action, I guess.”

“Well, seeing is believing.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Head to room 626 when you get a chance.”

“What’s in room 626?”

“You’ll see.”

—

Sam exited the elevator on the sixth floor to loud muffled music. Looking around, he realized he’d never even been to that part of the facility before. The white walls and obscure art seemed strange and misplaced in a building full of superhumans. Too clean, too elegant. 

Each of the rooms seemed that way too. Sam paused in the hallway, glancing through some of the glass doors with people’s names painted neatly at the top. Hardwood floors and marble countertops in each room. So impeccably clean that even dust bunnies wouldn’t dare step foot inside. 

Yet, when Sam approached room 626, he realized this was where the loud music was coming from. Different from the other rooms, this one was messy and colorful. He slid the glass door open, flinching at loud volume. 

He recognized the track — his father used to listen to it all the time when he was growing up. He could almost hear his dad’s deep voice teasing him: “You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout this, son. This was before your time.” Of course Sam knew the song. His dad was the one who put him on. Still, Sam’s dad always got a kick out the playful fight he put up. 

The long, seemingly endless hallway was painted a blinding white. He could make out a peculiar smell as he walked toward the end of the hall. Wet paint or fumes, he wasn’t really sure. He just pulled his shirt over his nose and kept looking for… well only God really knew. 

Finally, he arrived in the main room and saw you and your controlled chaos. You had ten or twenty different fabrics pinned to one wall and sketches of different outfits pinned to the opposing one. Against the back wall were mannequins wearing your works in progress. And just in front of Sam on a large wooden desk were schematics and what looked like engineering tools. Soldering iron, wires, circuit boards, and the like.

Everything seemed like a tornado of colors, clothes, and fabric. But you? You were as cool as a cucumber with your expensive looking spray painting mask strapped on as you sprayed the back of a jean jacket with bright pink paint. Sam chuckled when he heard your muffled voice sing along to the song, not noticing his presence. “Sherry bay-yay-by. Sherry, wontcha come out tonight.”

Sam pulled his shirt back down with a small grin on his lips, debating whether he should disturb you. In the end, he decided to save you the embarrassment, but by then, you’d already moved on to the next verse. You dropped your voice down low in an attempt to sound just like Nick Massi, singing, “Why don’t you come on.”

Sam let out a loud laugh, only covering it with his hand as you jumped, finally realizing someone else was in the room. “Sorry.” Sam chuckled. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your concert.”

You pulled the mask over your head, revealing a nervous smile. You jogged to the desk and grabbed the remote to switch off the stereo. “Concert’s a flattering choice of words.”

“Well you were really nailing that Massi.”

You raised a brow as you set down the can of spray paint. “You listen to Four Seasons?”

“Growing up, it was a staple in the Wilson household.” He offered his hand. “I’m Sam, by the way.”

“Y/N.” You shook it, an impressed smile on your face. “So what can I do for you, Sam?”

“I’m actually not sure. Tony just kinda sent me up here.” He raised a brow when you gasped, amused with your excitement. He smiled as the cute squeal that pushed past your lips. “I assume you know what that means.”

“I’ve been asking him forever if I could design your new suit!”

“New suit?”

“I mean, if you’re okay with it.” You added.

“I just don’t see why I need a new suit is all.” Sam shrugged as he looked around at all your work. He knew, way deep down in the rational part of his consciousness, that he needed a new suit. There wasn’t anything wrong with his Falcon suit, but wearing a new suit seemed too definite. If he put on a new combat suit, it meant that he was fully stepping into this new role. That he would be Captain America in more than just name. People would look at him, at his suit, and recognize that he was the Captain America.

“How about this?” You stepped toward him, prepared to bargain. “Let me make you a suit. If you don’t like it, I’ll just give your Falcon suit an upgrade. Deal?”

He let out a nervous chuckle at your offer. He had nothing to lose, really. Either way, he got upgrades. Still, he looked over at you and decided he couldn’t be the one to snuff the ambitious look in your dark eyes. He shook your hand, smiling softly at the triumphant grin that broke across your face. “Deal.”

“Great!” You were bouncing on your toes when he agreed. You practically raced back to your desk and started shuffling through your sketches and until you found the folder you were searching for. You handed them to Sam, “You can come back tomorrow morning so I can take your measurements. Till then, look through these sketches and tell me what you like.”

“So you’ve been working on this for awhile?” Sam asked, briefly flipping through the many colorful sketches.

“Ever since Tony told me about you.”

He let out a breath of amusement through his nose. Of course it was Tony, trying to set things in motion before Sam was even sure of what he wanted. Still, he knew Tony was trying to help. Sam gestured with the folder. “I’ll take a look.”

“Cool. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

— 

When Same woke up the next day, he found himself immediately thinking about meeting with you later. He felt weird. Nervous, even. Whether it was due to the idea of a new suit — of being Captain America — or seeing you, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he felt like a swarm of butterflies had flown from his stomach to his throat and decided to make a home there.

After stepping out of the shower, which took twenty more minutes than usual, he fumbled around for something to wear. What was he supposed to wear to fitting anyway? Sweats? Jeans? As his mind wandered, he thought of you. Rather, he thought of how you would see him. Maybe I should wear the green shirt, he thought. Girls always seem to like the green shirt.

He paused. Why was he thinking that?

He’d just met you. He knew a total of two facts about you: your name was Y/N and you listened to Four Seasons. That was hardly enough for Sam to be worried about how he looked for you. Yet, there he was, slipping on the dark green shirt that seemed to stretch ever so slightly across his broad chest. He settled on a pair of dark jeans before heading down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

As he stepped into the communal kitchen, Bucky was already sitting at the island, back facing Sam. He had just returned from his daily run, still in his sweatpants and white T-shirt with a cup of coffee in front of him. “There’s still fresh coffee in the pot.” Bucky mumbled into his cup as he flipped to the next page of the newspaper.

“Thanks.” Sam walked past him, slapping the newspaper into Bucky’s face as he walked by. “Why are you reading a newspaper?”

“To keep up with the news. Like a normal person.”

“There are these great new things called cell phones. Most people read the news on those now.” 

“Well, I’m not most people, am I?” Bucky lowered the newspaper and furrowed his brow at the sight of Sam. “What girl are you trying to impress?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Green shirt.”

“What about it?”

“That’s your ‘I want a girl to like me’ shirt.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sam scoffed as he poured a second cup of coffee. “This is just a shirt.”

“The shirt.”

“I’m not having this argument with you.”

“Not much of an argument when you know I’m right.” Bucky smirked. “Who’s the second cup for?”

Sam paused as he realized he’d been caught, but quickly recovered with an eye roll. “For me. So I don’t have to come back and hear your annoying ass voice.”

“Mhm. Tell the girl I said hi.” 

“Screw you.” Sam left the kitchen to the sound Bucky’s chuckles, reluctant to admit that he was right. Moments later, he was waiting for the elevator, tapping his shoe to distract himself from the butterflies that were starting to flutter around again. When the doors slid open, Tony briefly greeted Sam before stopping and pulling off his glasses. “Green shirt?”

Sam stepped past him. “Shut up.”

Every step closer to your workspace had him jittery. Not only was he forced to deal with these unfamiliar feelings for you — if that’s what they were — but he was finally being confronted with his new position. One step closer to replacing Steve. To being Captain America. Yet, he couldn’t deny, he could envision himself in some of the suits you had sketched for him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

When he entered 626, there was loud music playing once again. Another old song he recognized, Van Morrison. He smiled at the thought of you dancing around your space again, singing along to Brown Eyed Girl. It wasn’t so much about him catching you in the act. It was nice, a privilege really, to see the natural you. Eyes closed, arms up, hips swaying. Seeing how you act when you believed no one was watching was like strangely endearing.

And there you were, almost matching his wandering thoughts to a tee. You were setting up for work, once again not noticing Sam’s arrival. You danced across the room as you moved things from place to place. You began to sing out the words as you prepared to lift your tri-fold mirror. Sam broke from the trance and called out your name. You jumped and placed a hand over your heart, laughing quietly when you saw it was only him. “Caught me again.”

“To be fair, you seem pretty easy to catch with the way you get lost in music.” Sam smiled, placing the coffee cups on your desk, far from any of your papers. “Let me get that for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“It’s no problem. Just tell where you want it.”

You stepped away from the mirror, tossing a stray braid over your shoulder with a smile. “Just over there, in front of that pedestal. Thanks.” When he went to lift it, your eyes were drawn to his arms, watching his biceps flex. You caught yourself before you could begin to stare, heat rising to your cheeks as you went to look for your measuring tape.

“Oh, by the way, I brought you a cup of coffee.” Sam mentioned as he set the mirror down. “You know, if you drink it? I didn’t know what you put in it, if anything, so it’s black. Is that okay?”

“That’s perfect, actually.” You sighed happily. “I’ve been trying to replace coffee with loud music in the mornings, hence the dancing.”

“Of course.” He chuckled in response.

“And while I love to blast Morrison at nine in the morning, it’s not the same without a hot cup of coffee.” You took the cup he offered with a smile. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

Sam couldn’t help how his heart skipped a beat. “Don’t mention it.”

You took a sip, “So, you ready to get measured for your new suit?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Great, just step onto the pedestal for me, and relax.”

“Got it.”

It was quiet as you brought the tape measure under his arms and around his chest. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but Sam was sure his nerves had to be radiating out of him. The butterflies were beating against his ribcage as you pulled just tight enough on the tape measure. You took note of the number and bent over to write it down on your notepad. Being so close to you, Sam felt himself tense up as you measured around his waist. You chuckled and looked up at him. “You gotta relax.”

“I’m relaxed.”

“If you don’t loosen up, your new suit is gonna be super tight in all the wrong places.” You joked. “Talking usually helps.”

“About what?”

“Anything.” You shrugged. “Like why are you so opposed to a new suit?”

Almost as if it was a reflex, Sam tensed up again with a nervous and playful chuckle. “Way to get me to relax.”

“I’m just saying.” You laughed, adjusting the tape once again. “It’s not like you’re not qualified. I mean, Steve chose you.”

“Yeah, he did. I wish it were that simple in my mind.” He admitted.

“What’s your mind saying?”

“What isn’t it saying?” Sam rolled his eyes at himself. “It’s just… I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I don’t want to put that on you. That’s not your job.”

“It’s not.” You agreed with a chuckle. “But that’s not why I asked. You can tell me.”

Again, with a wave of confusion, he felt the tension melt away. He didn’t know why he felt this way, like he could tell you anything and everything. There was a familiarity about you, like you were someone he’d known his entire life despite only meeting twenty hours ago. His father probably would’ve called you an old soul. Maybe in some other lifetime, in another universe, you knew each other. Or maybe, this was just fate coming to pass. Destiny finding, not two halves, but two wholes — putting them together like some sort of experiment to see what would come of it.

“It’s just… how am I supposed to follow after Steve?” He asked. “He has such a huge story, this legacy just hanging over my head. He’s been saving people since before either of us were born. And now here I am, some dude from the Air Force that met Steve completely by accident, about to take up his shield. It just seems unbelievable. Literally.”

You nodded as you measured around his left thigh. “First, let me say that your feelings are completely valid.”

“Why do I feel like you’re about to decimate everything I just said?”

“Not decimate!” You laughed. “Just gently prove wrong.”

“Oh, in that case.” He smiled down at you.

“Shut up.” You snapped him with the tape measure before measuring his other thigh. “Steve is not the only one with a story. I mean, Sam Wilson, the guy who grew up in Harlem, lost his parents and his best friend, and still managed to not give up? The guy Steve Rogers trusted with his life almost immediately after meeting him? The same dude who stole a top secret government project and used it to become a superhero? I think that’s pretty badass.”

Sam considered your words with a small smile. Sure, he may have seemed normal — maybe even mundane — to himself, but the fact is that he had also been through a lot. Just like Steve, Sam realized that his life was no walk in the park. Not many people couldn’t have lived Sam’s life and come out the other side not just okay but strong. He wasn’t Steve Rogers, but that didn’t matter. He was Sam Wilson, and maybe that was okay. 

“You’re good at that.” He commented quietly, looking down at you. He just about caught himself staring at you. The bright smile across your ruby shaded lips, the almost childlike excitement in your eyes. And your eyes — jesus. They were the same color as his, a dark brown. Yet, he couldn’t help but find yours so much more interesting.

“At what?”

“Talking to people.”

“Not everyone. Just...” You shook your head as you stood up straight. There was something indecipherable in his eyes — or maybe you wanted to believe it was. Still, it was there. Admiration, confusion, gratefulness? You weren’t sure. But the intensity of his stare made heat spread across your cheeks one more, and you ducked your head, moving to the side to measure the length of his arm. “Just people like you.”

Minutes later, you finished his measurement and moved on to the designs. You and Sam went through each and every one, noting his likes and dislikes. As time went on, it became very apparent that he was ready to be Captain America. Even if he wasn’t sure yet, you were. Much too soon, every detail of his new suit was planned out, and it was time for Sam to go. 

“If I make this my top priority, I can have your new suit finished in two weeks, tops.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Sam said bashfully. “I’m sure you have other work to do.”

“None as exciting or as important.”

“Now you’re just stroking my ego.” He joked.

You scoffed painfully, “Like you need me to do that.”

You walked beside him, down the hall and to the elevator. He couldn’t help but wish he had some sort of excuse to stay, but leading the Avengers meant a mountain of responsibilities. Still, he wanted to see you again. Not for work and not for designing a new suit. He wanted to get to know you away from the fabric and tape measures. He wanted to find out how someone as sweet and breathtaking as you could even exist in a world filled with such evil left and right. So, he rocked back and forth for a moment before turning to you. 

“And um, Y/N?”

“Yes?”

Sam fully intended to ask you out just then. But he felt like he couldn’t move. A feeling of nervousness he hadn’t gotten since he was a teenager, he was frozen. Staring at you like a deer in headlights, his brain screamed at him: Just ask her, you dumbass! Then, the elevator announced its arrival with a ding and broke his concentration. He cleared his throat and smiled nervously. “Thank you again. You’ve been a huge help.”

You blinked in confusion but stammered out, “Glad to be of service.”

It wasn’t until a few days later that Sam had gained the courage to do what he should’ve done in that moment. 

The city was in danger — some high-level Hydra threat — and the Avengers were needed. Everyone rushed off to suit up, including Sam. That’s when he saw it. You had just finished his suit, and it was more than Sam could’ve ever imagined. A shiny white breastplate with red decals on the torso, blue pants lined with bulletproof material, and to top it off, his signature red wings. That was something he wanted to keep. They reminded him of his humble beginnings, of what made him the man that Steve chose to be Captain America. 

And Captain America he was. 

Sam was aware of all the stares he got as he fought the Hydra agents and ended the crisis with the rest of the team. He knew it would take some getting used to. But he was pretty sure — no, extremely sure that he could do this. He could be the symbol that the public needed. 

He strolled back into the Avengers Complex, handing a handcuffed Hydra agent off to be questioned, when he saw you. You were usually there waiting, ready for feedback on your new toys and inventions. But what Sam said surprised you. 

“Hey Sam,” You started. “Did your new suit fare well? I was already thinking of some modifications based on —“

“Would you like to go out with me this Saturday?”

You blinked, lowering your clipboard in shock. “What?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me on Saturday?” He smiled wide and unabashedly. Then, with no hesitation, you smacked him on the arm with your clipboard, making him bark out a laugh. 

“Took you long enough.”

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter one

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.

rating: M (drug abuse, mention of sexual abuse in later chapters) word count: 2,100

ao3 link

*

“Any messages, Gina?”

Beca Mitchell strode out of the elevator, high heels clicking on marble flooring on her way to her office.

Her assistant rushed to walk alongside her, notebook opened as she handed Beca her second coffee of the day, which Beca took with an appreciative smile.

“Mr. Mendes needs to push back his meeting to Thursday, and Mr. Hozier-Byrne is waiting for a call back, preferably before 2 as he’s five hours ahead.”

Beca rounded the corner to her office and dragged her leather desk chair back, shrugging off her woolen trench coat and draping it over the back. “Got it, remind me what I have planned today?”

“You’re having lunch with Mr. Zimmer at the Plaza to discuss Jesse’s project, and apart from the weekly team meeting at five, you’re expected at Edgy Reggie’s party from 10 pm at the Sapphire.”

A groan surfaced from Beca’s throat and her eyes slammed shut as she plopped down on her chair. “I forgot about that. Luke can’t go?”

Gina winced and shook her head. “Family dinner.”

“Family dinner, my ass. His whole family lives back in fucking England,” Beca muttered before she could help it, throwing her assistant an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Thanks, Gina. Hold my calls until ten, please?”

“Of course, Ms. Mitchell.”

As she did every morning while sipping her coffee, Beca listened to demos over the next hour, forwarding them to Luke if any of those yet-unknown artists spiked her interest enough to sign them into their label.

The rest of the day consisted of two meetings, a dozen calls, countless email exchanges, and not enough studio time. A thick blanket of darkness had veiled the city by the time she closed her laptop and called it a day. She stretched her neck and took a moment to gaze at the lit skyscrapers through her floor to ceiling windows, sighing softly.

It was sometimes weird to think about how this was her life. How the asocial, grumpy freshman from thirteen years ago had made it to the top of the music business and now co-owned one of the biggest labels throughout the country.

Scratch that, throughout the  world.  

Snapping out of her daze, Beca stood and slipped on her coat, plucking her phone off the desk to call herself a Lyft home. She had just about time to take a shower and eat dinner before heading to that stupid party.

*

Beca could think of a million things she’d rather be doing right now as she strode down the wet sidewalk towards the lit  GIRLS  red neon sign in the distance a couple of hours later.

She told herself one drink, an hour tops, then she could head home, put on her pajamas, and finish that true-crime TV show she started yesterday.

“Name?” A dude bulkier than the freaking Rock asked her as she made it to the club door.

“Um, Beca Mitchell. I’m Edgy Reggie’s producer.”

Her artist had privatized a strip-club for his celebration party over his album hitting Platinum, and Beca couldn’t  not  show up, as... well, he was an important client and brought her label the big bucks.

The guy checked his clipboard and nodded, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re good to go.”

Casting the bouncer a nod, Beca ducked inside the dimmed, crowded club, wincing at the crappy music heavily pumping through the speakers. Three girls in bikinis and heels stood on platforms, twisting their bodies around dancing poles as dozens of dudes reclined back in leather sofas, shamelessly ogling their forms.

Beca’s nose crinkled as she scanned the room for her artist.

“Yo, Beca!”

Her gaze snapped to the left corner, catching sight of Edgy Reggie (he didn’t want to change his stage name, no matter how much Beca insisted) waving her over.

“Hey,” she cast him a tight-lipped smile, tucking her straight hair behind her ears. She nodded at the other dudes sitting around the low table. “What’s up.”

“Guys, this is the girl behind the magic of my album,” Edgy Reggie explained, throwing an arm over her shoulders before Beca could squirm away. “She is  fire. ”

Beca chuckled awkwardly, then pointed over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink.”

Maybe two come to think of it, so she could get herself through this.

She headed to the bar and ordered an old-fashioned, fishing in the inside of her coat pocket for her credit card.

“Thanks,” she muttered when the barmaid (also clad in a bikini that left very little to the imagination) came back with her drink, handing her her card just as the club’s speaker made an announcement.

“Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome to the stage…  Ariel! ”

The crowd cheered and hooted, Beca glancing over her shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.

There was no amount of alcohol that could have prepared her for the scene unfolding before her.

There, on the main stage, strutted in a redhead, only wearing a silver g-string and high heels. Beca would have recognized that shade of hair anywhere, and while the lighting in the club was low, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this girl -- Ariel -- was her former best friend.

Her former best friend who had dropped from the face of the Earth almost five years ago, without so much as an explanation. She hadn’t just stopped talking to Beca, but to all of them, even Aubrey. She was nowhere to be found on social media and when Beca had tried calling her after six months without news, she found out Chloe’s phone number had been disconnected. It wasn’t like they talked on a daily basis before that. After three years spent living on opposite sides of the country, the texts started coming further in between, their communication coming down to a few check-ins a year and on birthdays, until they eventually stopped.

Fearing the worst, Aubrey had called Chloe’s parents, who assured her she was fine, working as a vet in NYC and in a committed relationship. While relieved, the news stung Beca, as it was clear Chloe had deliberately ceased contact.

It took some time, but Beca eventually stopped thinking about her so much, especially when she started getting successful as a music producer and pouring her time and energy into her projects. She soon won her first Grammys, Gold, and Platinum records featured in notorious magazines and talk shows. She could stop working tomorrow and money wouldn’t become an issue, but Beca didn’t like to boast about her fortune, or fame, for that matter.

Despite being insanely busy, she still kept in touch with the other Bellas in their group chat, but she hadn’t seen any of them in a couple of years, missing the last reunion because of her job.

Beca’s mind steered back to the present, where the once most important person in her life was currently dancing for money. Men were staring hungrily at her as she sensually moved around the pole or bent over with her ass in the air to collect dollar bills from the floor, and Beca suddenly felt sick.

This couldn’t be her dream job, right? Something  had  to have happened for her to settle for this.

Beca grabbed her drink and knocked it back, flagging the barmaid down for another as her mind reeled as to what to do.

She needed to talk to Chloe. In private. Tonight, as soon as she finished… parading in front of these disgusting fuckboys. Only… she wasn’t sure Chloe wanted to talk to her.

“Hey,” she said when the barmaid came back as an idea struck. “How do I get a private lap dance with one of the girls?”

The girl raised a surprised eyebrow. “Backroom, hun. Who do you want?”

“Ariel.”

The platinum blonde let out a curt laugh. “Ariel doesn’t do lap dances, babe.”

Beca’s eyebrows knitted together in a heavy frown. “Why not?”

“Because she’s the boss’ favorite.”

Beca didn’t know what that meant exactly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out as another wave of nausea swept over her insides. “Is your boss here tonight?”

The barmaid scanned the room quickly, nodding. “He’s the guy over there in the suit.”

“Thanks.” She took her drink and headed over to where the fifty-something dude was talking to another guy. Stepping up to them, she ignored their glares over her interrupting their conversation. “Hey. Are you the manager?”

The dude who looked like he ran a mafia mob turned a bit more towards her. “What’s this about?”

“How much for a private dance with Ariel?”

His gaze flickered over Beca’s shoulder towards the stage, then sized Beca up, unimpressed. “She’s not available, kid.”

Beca gritted her teeth at the condescending tone of his voice. “Not even for ten grand for twenty minutes?”

He slow-blinked, then burst out laughing. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m being serious. Ten grand, twenty minutes. Alone in a room, just the two of us.”

The man’s expression hardened. “And I said she’s not  available .”

“Twenty grand.” Hell, she’d throw half a million on the table if that’s what was needed to talk to Chloe. After a beat, she added, “And no touching. That’s not what I’m here for.”

The manager seemed to consider her offer for a handful of seconds. “You got the money?”

Dammit.  She couldn’t withdraw that much right now, she needed to call her bank. “Tomorrow night.”

He smirked, snickering. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He turned back to his buddy, leaving Beca grumbling under her breath as she turned around and stalked out of the club. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stand the sight of Chloe objectifying her body for money.

As soon as she got home, Beca fired up her computer and typed in Chloe’s name in her browser. Apart from old stuff on the Bellas, she found nothing relevant. Chloe appeared to still be MIA from any social media.

Beca grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts, bringing the device to her ear.

“What’s wrong?”  

“How do you know something’s wrong?”

“We call each other twice a year on our respective birthdays and stick to the Bellas chat for the rest.”  

Beca nibbled on her bottom lip. “I found Chloe.”

A long stretch of silence on the other end of the line followed.  “What?”  

“I saw her tonight, Aubrey.”

“Where??”

“At a strip club. She’s… a stripper.”

“What? Did you talk to her?”  

“No. She was performing on stage. But I will. I’m… buying a lap dance from her tomorrow. I figured… she’ll have to listen to me since she’s being paid for it.” Her eyes slammed shut, scrunching up her nose. “I don’t know. It might be a bad idea, but-- I just wanna make sure she’s okay, you know?”

“Yes, of course. Keep me posted?”  

“I will. Talk to you soon.”

Beca shuffled to bed after that, but sleep never came. Her mind kept reeling about Chloe, about what she might say to her once they were face to face, and the possibility that Chloe might shoot her down and refuse to talk to her.

She spent her Saturday trying and failing to make some progress on an ongoing project, willing time to tick faster so she could head back to the club. Mid-afternoon, she headed to the bank to withdraw twenty grand, tucking the envelope in her purse.

“Why does it feel like you’re doing something illegal, Beca?” She muttered to herself on her way out of the bank, slightly paranoid about carrying so much cash on her.

The club was just as crowded when she got there around 10 pm. A different girl danced on the main stage and the manager was nowhere in sight, so Beca perched herself on a stool at the bar, ordering herself another old-fashioned.

“Is your boss around?” She asked the barmaid, a different girl from last night.

“Who’s asking?”

“Tell him the person who wants Ariel is here.”

The girl’s eyebrows shot up at that but she didn’t say anything, nodding before strutting away. Beca sipped at her drink for the next twenty minutes, keeping her back to the stage.

The manager eventually appeared in her peripheral, and he leaned an elbow over the counter, lacing his fingers. “So what’s so special about Ariel?”

Beca slowly set her drink down and fished for the envelope, pushing it towards him while keeping her gaze straight ahead. “I like redheads.”

He plucked the envelope off the counter and peered inside. Twenty stacks of ten hundred dollar bills in exchange for twenty minutes with Chloe.

He nodded. “Follow me.”

Beca finished the rest of her drink, the alcohol managing to muffle her nerves some as she followed the manager towards the back of the club, and down a set of stairs. Her heart pumped hard in her ears and her palms started to sweat as she was led inside a dimly lit room with a handful of sofa chairs and a small stage with a dancing pole, some kind of music that seemed straight out of a porno carrying through the speakers. A spiral staircase was tucked in the right corner, and she guessed that is where the strippers made their entrance from.

Beca wondered how far things usually went in these kinds of private rooms.

She wondered how far  Chloe  went.

She cast the guy a tight-lipped smile and a nod before he closed the door, and paced the room for a little while, eventually lowering herself on one of the leather chairs and wiping her palms on her designer slacks.

The clicking of heels over metal made Beca’s spine snap straighter. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder as the steps grew nearer, digging her nails into her thighs as a new round of nerves gripped her insides.

“Good evening, sweetheart,” the huskiness of Chloe’s voice made Beca swallow, and she felt a hand run over her shoulders as Chloe approached from behind.

Glancing up, Beca met familiar, ocean blues.

[duckymcdoorknob]

See this?? I don’t even go here and I’m in love

If I can make another request, some lee Luffy and ler Zoro! They’re dynamic is so funny and lee Luffy is so precious. Take your time and hope you’re having a good day! 💖

YOU ARE CORRECT IN EVERY WAY

I hope you're also having a good day!!!! <3