#I'm convinced that she's going to come back

[systlin]

So, to explain my little adventure I just got back from, it is necessary to set the scene by explaining a few things.

My dog is a Great Pyraneese. She weighs 90 Pounds. It is mostly muscle.

My neighbors a quarter mile down the road have chickens. They like to let them free range.

Now, this is not a problem at all, EXCEPT for the fact that whenever Tyr sees them something deep in her little livestock guardian breed brain goes "Oh, I am supposed to be Responsible for this Livestock." She will attempt to plonk her 90 pound furry ass down as far towards their yard as her leash will permit and want to sit there and simply stare at the chickens. She is not aggressive towards them, she simply wants to lie down and Keep An Eye On Things, the way a good livestock guardian dog is supposed to. It is the same reason she would love to fight the foxes that live under the falling down farmhouse down the street to the death and is very upset that I will not let her.

The PROBLEM is, well

3. My neighbors also have a miniature poodle. She is convinced, in every cell of her 15 pound body, that No Other Dogs Should Come Anywhere Near Her Fucking Yard. She has no concept that Tyr outweighs her by 75 pounds and is absolutely convinced that she could win this fight.

Normally if she's outside she is out in the fenced backyard and this isn't a problem. I also don't let Tyr wander into other yards, because it's rude to let your dog pee on the neighbor's grass unless they've said they're fine with it and also I live in Fuckass Nowhere. There's plenty of county owned grass on the roadside for Tyr to pee on. Still, even if I'm coaxing her along past the chickens, she will want to slow down and drift over to that side of the road to look at them.

TODAY, however, the mini poodle was NOT in the backyard. She was in the unfenced front yard, and as soon as we walked past she saw another dog not ON her yard, but heading TOWARDS her yard, and she hurled herself into battle with no thought for her own safety.

Now, Tyr is not aggressive towards other dogs. There is an exception to this, though, and it is 'unless an off leash dog comes running full speed in the general direction of one of Her People while snarling and barking'. If this happens, I suddenly have 90 pounds of Great Pyr ready for mortal combat on the end of the leash.

This brings us to item 4

4. I broke my left arm in April and while it is healing and good for light use now, 'Light Use' does not include 'restraining 90 pounds of furious livestock guardian dog convinced her person is about to be attacked by a reactive dog'

This means that I looped up the leash short and controlled her one armed. I did not think about this twice particularly. I know I can do it and just. Did it. I wouldn't walk her if I couldn't control her, after all. Once she figured out that no, the poodle was NOT going to attack me, she calmed down, but was still growling.

But I did this as a panicked neighbor dude came running out to try and get his dog, convinced that his kids were about to watch their beloved pet get turned into Great Pyr chow.

Oh and

5. I did this while wearing a Wonder Woman tshirt

So, long story short, his 4 year old daughter is convinced now that I actually AM Wonder Woman, because "She's Strong Like Wonder Woman!" and my neighbor learned that his poodle dug out from under the fence, how's everyone else's days going.

(All dogs unhurt)

[dante-mightdie]

The way i'm straight up dying over the second-wife Price au so far Like I don't think you understand how nice it is to see such a fun take on such an already-lovely idea, but GOD I would love to see Price seeing reader after a good few months of trying to convince himself that he was right in leaving her there. Maybe he always felt that guilt, that twisting in his guts that made him feel like a bastard when he thought about you, maybe he never quite got over the look on your face when the ropes were tied, the fear in your eyes. You weren't supposed to be scared when you looked at him, but you were. He's long since accepted that you're dead. It would just be silly to think otherwise, but he's still got the other wife, right? The other wife, who he slowly realizes isn't nearly as gentle as you were, who didn't stop a moment to smile at passing children or nod at him when he came back from a successful battle. maybe he's terrible for wanting to go back, but then he sees you in the woods, holding a baby in your arms and cooing at the little thing while you wash it. It could be his. That's the first thing he thinks, and then he sees Simon. Simon who should be dead, Simon who defected mid-battle mere days before he met you, Simon the *traitor*who comes up behind you and knocks his forehead against yours so gently and takes the baby into his arms as you smile at him. And maybe Price feels a sort of longing in that moment, a sort of pain he's never felt before, because you look... happy. You look happy in a way Price has never seen on you before. Genuine and comfortable, that soft smile on your face spreading as you chuckle and hug Simon. Or maybe not. Maybe Price turns and leaves, maybe he never quite sees that it's you or maybe he just cant mentally reckon with you being alive without him like this, happier without him after he hurt you unforgivably. Maybe Price doesn't even know if it would be worth giving up his half-assed, but functional marriage with your replacement-that thought still makes him shudder-to try and talk to you again, because you look like you wouldn't even entertain him, and he **knows** that Simon won't I dunno, just some thoughts for you, I hope you like :)) (You have absolutely no obligation to respond if you don't wanna, just want you to know that this au and your writing in general has honestly been something nice to come home to and it's really helped me through some rough days)

simon bumping his forehead against you like a stray cat is awakening something in me

c/w: stalkerish-vibes from chief!price, nsfw, masturbation, sex, mentions of war, torture, children

he had to return a couple more times just to be certain. dedicating a few hours a week to come back to that lake in hopes of seeing if you were actually alive or if his mind was playing tricks on him. he caught a few more glimpses of you. some by yourself, a few with your baby and a couple with your ‘husband’

he’d watched you bath by yourself in the late evening, slipping off your clothes and unknowingly giving him a view of your most intimate parts. not like he hadn’t seen them before. sometimes when he felt extra guilty and pathetic, he’d stroke his cock as he watches you bathe in the lake

he’d also caught you and your child down there once or twice, a genuine happy smile on your face as you help them dip their feet in the shallow tide. he knew the whispers of the clan was getting to you, rumours that you couldn’t conceive but he never had his doubts. he just never had the time to dedicate to you due to his many responsibilities as the clan chief

that’s a weak excuse, still. he had energy to dedicate to his second wife, for a while at least. he soon tired of her and her attitude towards her wifely duties. and he didn’t just mean her bedroom duties, although that was becoming an issue too. he also meant her responsibilities to the clan. she had a responsibility to offer them support and she was failing to integrate herself with them

you didn’t seem to have any issues with your marriage. you seem perfectly happy with your husband. price wonders if you really know who he is. it’s hard to imagine the ex-wife he knew as shy and timid seems this content with the infamous warrior ‘ghost’

price wonders if simon has told you about his time as a prisoner of war under an enemy clan when he was a fresh adult. perhaps he’d told you about how he got all those scars, how he’d endured years of torture before he finally escaped. except, he didn’t stay away once he returned home. no, he went back in the middle of the night. and slayed every enemy in that camp with his own two hands. a blood-thirsty fury in his veins as he takes his revenge

the sweetness only lasted a few minutes before the taste turns bitter. especially when he finds that he’s been shunned from his clan. his actions deemed inhumane, evil, unnecessary. simon didn’t agree, not one bit. he had dedicated his life to the clan and this is how they treat him after he nearly died for them

price had never met him. he was a known name around these ends. probably not to you. you don’t seem too afraid of him when he tugs your clothes off, bumping his nose against yours and pushing you up against a tree. hoists you up and wastes no time in lining his cock up with your pussy. nudges his tip inside your hole before thrusting the rest of his cock in

john watches as you whine and moan and beg for more in a way he never got to see before. perhaps if he had actually dedicated any time towards your pleasure, he would’ve gotten to witness this too. he fucks his fist from his hiding place, imagining that you were falling apart on his cock instead

he wishes he could use some of that famous courage he’s known for to actually come up and speak to you. apologise for abandoning you, not being a proper husband and protecting you from all the people trying to tear you down. yet his feet can’t seem to pass further from the spot he watches you from

he figures he should leave you be, you deserve your peace and your happiness. you seem to have found it. he wonders if you’ve found forgiveness for him in that time too. maybe you’d throw that sweet smile in his direction, welcome him with open arms and tell him that it’s okay

but he knows that unlikely. he’s sure that wolf of yours would show up, sniffing out a potential threat near his mate. bare his teeth and growl at price for even selling close to you. much more likely that he’ll rip john apart with his canines and claws, leave his mangled body in the dirt. he’s not so sure that you’d tell him to heel either, how can he expect you to save him when he left you for dead?

[eddiesxangel]

Give Me Everything | E.M x PlusSize!Reader

Anonymous requested: I was wondering if you could do a story on a plus size best friend reader.. who was asked out by a jock on a dare or who Eddie walks into her room to see her sitting on the floor upset because her favourite dress is getting tight.. and he shows her how much he loves her body even if she can't see it... Maybe with like a praise/breeding kink.. or whatever you want to do 😁🫠👉👈 Recently went through a weight gain, and I'm so hard on myself.

AN: As a plus-size girly myself, I got you bbg. 😚

CW: bestfrined!Eddie x f!reader, self-loathing, self-depreciation, weight gain, body image, Eddie is a big ol' simp, soft dom, praise, oral, p in v, breeding kink, creampies, Pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl etc.)

wc: 3k

When the former basketball team captain ran into you at the local bar and asked you out, you were hesitant to say yes.

Your body never bothered you…until it did. The perks, your tits never looked better; the downside was you felt big. You’re still getting used to this new body, the body that you didn’t like.

Maybe your favourite dress would be the thing to help. So you dug into the depths of your closet. It has been a while since you’ve even attempted to put it on. The summer months were finally here; you could use this pick-me-up.

You stepped into the A-line skirt. So far, so good. When you tried to bring the straps up, things took a turn. It felt so tight; it dug into your soft flesh, your skin popped out around the straps, and the buttons in the front weren’t even close enough together to do up. You turn to see the taught fabric surrounding your back, all lumpy with back rolls.

Silent tears start to shed as you look at yourself in the full-length mirror. You never even heard the knock on your door or the lock click when your best friend entered your home with his copy of the key. You didn’t see how Eddie’s face dropped when he saw you criticizing every inch of your body. The way his heart broke when he saw your tear-stained cheeks in the reflection of the mirror.

Eddie knew you had a date. He came for moral support and to maybe convince you not to go for his own personal reasons.

He was shocked when you revealed the name of the guy who had asked you out. Jason Carver. Number one douchebag of class of ‘87. He thought you were joking, but you didn’t grow up in Hawkins; you moved here after college. No way you would have known the country club- bible-thumping moron was his arch-nemesis all those years ago.

“Y/N”

You jumped when the soft whisper of Eddie’s voice filled the room.

“Eddie, I didn’t hear you come in.” You quickly try to wipe away the tears, embarrassed that he saw you like this, looking like this.

You quickly grab your oversized t-shirt and pull it over your head to cover up your shame.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You’re quick to reply.

“Don’t do that, you always do that. Tell me what’s wrong.” He gently takes your hand and pulls you to the bed.

“It’s so embarrassing.” Your voice cracks, and you want to die.

“It’s me we are talking about, babe; nothing you can do is embarrassing.”

Eddie was right; you shared everything. He knew all of your deepest, darkest secrets. All of them, but this one.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before speaking.

“I’m no model, I’m not the size I use…” You look down, and you are not able to finish your sentence. It hurt too much to say out loud. "Nothing fits me anymore." You mumble.

“What?” He stroked the back of your head, trying to calm you.

“Nothing fits me anymore!” You break.

“So we will buy new clothes.”

“That’s not-ugh. You don’t get it,” he would never understand.

“Then tell me.”

“I never used to be like this.” You gestured to yourself.

“Like what?”

“Big!”

“You’re not big”

“Eddie… stop. I am… I just wanted to put on my favourite dress to feel better about myself, but now it doesn’t fit me anymore.” You sniffle.

“Y/N.” your name fell off of Eddie’s lips-laced with such sorrow.

“And now I have to find something to wear for this date in two hours, and I have nothing. I don’t even know if I like the guy, but he’s the first one who asked me out in a year, and I just wanted to feel pretty… to feel wanted... desired.”

“You are pretty; you are beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.” your mouth speaks, but you can't ignore the butterflies that come with those words.

“No,” he shook his head. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” Eddie poured his heart out.

“You have to say that- you’re just trying to make me feel better.

“I’m really not, and if Jason doesn’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve to go out with you.” He shuffled closer to you. “That guy is a fucking loser! Peaked in high school. It’s killing me that you agreed to go out with him.”

“Maybe that’s what I deserve…”

“What?”

"If he is the only kind of guy that wants me it's what I deserve."

"Don't you dare say that," Eddie cups your face to force you to make eye contact.

"Why on earth would you think so little of yourself?"

"Because... no one wants the big girl." your eyes glazed with tears once again.

Eddie knew he fucked up by not telling you his feelings earlier on, but he was scared.

"Let me show you how beautiful you are. Please."

"What?"

"I can't watch you go on this date without letting you know that it should have been me to ask you first. I was scared of what it would do to us, but I like you; I like you more than a friend should. I think about you all the time, and I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want you to understand that your body is the most perfect thing I have ever seen.

"Eddie I-"

"Please"

"O-okay."

Eddie crashes his lips into yours. Nothing about this is sweet. It is primal and needy, like he can finally drink you in after weeks of thirst. His hand travels to the back of your head and gently lays you back on the bed. His body is hovering over yours as your fingers tangle in his hair. He tastes like spearmint gum and cigarettes. You breathe in his woodsy cologne, giving you a head rush.

His kisses become more gentle, more calculated as the both of you begin to mould into one. Curious hands travelled under your skirt as he felt the soft skin of your thigh, bringing it up so he could get closer.

The skirt of the dress you still had on fell, exposing more of your leg, and Eddie couldn't resist taking a peek.

He rose, and you let out a soft moan at the loss of contact.

"It's okay, baby. I just needed to see you. How beautiful you are spread open for me."

That made you flush. Never have you seen this side of Eddie before. Only in your wildest fantasies could you dream of these words being spoken from his mouth.

the self-consciousness quickly set in as you needed to close your legs, but Eddie's strong hand found the meat of your inner thoughts and pried them open with ease.

"No baby, I need you to be a good girl, and keep these open. Do you think you can do that for me?" He leaned in and gently kissed your inner thigh, another part of you you've been particularly loathing lately.

"i don't know" IT was so overwhelming.

"We don't have to keep going if you don't want to... But I would be honoured if you let me have you this way." It would be the highest compliment, the most trust you put into a man.

"I want to, but im nervous." You've not shown anyone your body since the weight gain; you never wanted to. But something about Eddie made you feel safe and wanted.

"we will go slow. I want to savour every second." He smirked and you couldn't help but cover your face. Why was he making you feel so giddy?

"No, no. I need to see you, pretty girl." Eddie's rough fingers intertwined with yours as he peeled your hands away from your face.

"You can't say things like that to me!" you squeak.

"Why? dose it make your pussy feel all tingly?"

"Eddie!"

"Oh, I bet it does; you like me talking you up? Good, because so do I." His lips latched on yours once again, and his tongue made its way into your mouth before he pulled away to kiss his way down your neck until your shirt got in the way.

"Take it off." His hands slid underneath, feeling the fabric of the tight dress bunched up around your middle. This was another barrier he would need to convince you to get rid of.

"Eddie..."

"Please? I want to make you feel good." His hands inched up further and further towards your breasts.

You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh before nodding in agreement. Your hands find the hem of your shirt before slowly peeing it off, exposing your lacy bra.

"Fuck" You hear Eddie exhale above you.

When you slowly open your eyes, you see a man above you, full of lust and primal desire. A man to whom you thought never to be attracted to you, yet here he is, ready to devour you like you're his last meal.

"You're so fucking perfect." He reaches to grope you, not able to resist not touching your chest.

He can feel your pebbled nipples through the thin blue lace that hardly concealed anything. The thought that Jason was the one who might have gotten to see this instead of him drove him mad with jealousy.

You swore you heard him mumble the word 'mine' before leaning in to kiss your skin right above where the bra lay on your breast. His plump lips were so soft on your skin as his kisses turned into licks and nips through the fabric. His hands cupped and squeezed your tits as you watched him become a man possessed.

You arched your back up into Eddie as he fondled you; you can also feel how hard Eddie is becoming against your thigh.

You moaned his name, and that only made Eddie need you more.

“Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to taste you, baby?”

“No,” your breath is sharp and shocked.

“No?” He cocks his head, “Well, I need to get better at showing you just how much I need you.” He takes your hand and guides it to his jeans, where his cock is strained beneath.

Your eyes widen as you feel the stiff outline before you reach up to kiss him, but he pulls away, making his way down your body as he pulls down your dress, leaving you in only your matching panties and bra.

Your hands instinctively cover your stomach, but Eddie beats you to it, catching your hands mid-air and tilting his head.

“I don’t think so, baby; it’s just me.” He guides your hands to rest beside your body before he tentatively moves his own hands to your inner thighs.

“You trust me?” He continued.

You can’t form words; the only thing you can do is nod your head dumbly. No one had made you feel so desired, wanted... needed.

“Good girl”

Eddie finds his own hands pushing your legs open as far as they can go so he can see the wet patch that has formed in the gusset of your panties. A knowing smirk breaches his face as he leans forward to lay a gentle kiss on your covered pussy lips before taking a deep breath in. Your scent filled his nostrils, making you squeak with embarrassment.

“Eddie!”

“Can’t help myself, you smell so delicious…. Can’t wait to taste you.” He hooks a finger in your panties to move them to the side.

“So pretty,” he whispered into your lower lips before leaning a long wet kiss to your clit.

“Oh god!” You cry, arching your back into him as he makes out with your pussy.

“Tastes even better than you smell, baby.”

His tongue licks a long, drawn-out strip from your home to your clit, making you even wetter than before.

A mix of Eddie’s saliva and your slick coat on your inner thighs as he ravished you. The way his lips and tongue worked your clit and folds was head spinning.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You cry as your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave.

Your body shakes beneath your best friend don’t let go until he’s consumed all of you.

“Holy shit,” you catch your breath. No other words came to mind as your blissed-out state takes over all of you.

“You did such a good job f’me” he mumbled into your pussy before pulling back.

You see his shiny lips and chin break into a smile as he crawls back up your body to kiss you. You pull him down into you, and his body weight feels so good on top of you. You need more; you need to be closer.

“More,” you say into the kiss.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not even close to being done with you.”

“Eddie, please.” You whine, hardly recognizing your own voice. You’re so full of want and need for Eddie. He is the only thing you can focus on.

“Patients, baby,” he leans back to remove his clothes.

First came his shirt and then his belt; you watched as his ring-clad fingers skilfully undid the intricate lock of the belt buckle and teased you as he slowly undid his pants.

Your hands travelled up your chest, and you played with your nipples to entice Eddie to move faster, but he was savouring the moment. He wasn’t going to give in to your tricks; he had been waiting too long for this moment to not make it last.

"You're so pretty spread out like this, just for me."

“I want you so bad,” you moan as his boxers finally are tugged from his waist, and what you’ve wanted the most is sprung free. “I need you.”

“You have me, all of me.” Another feverish kiss was taken, and you couldn’t help but grind your bare hips into his own.

“No more waiting.”

“No more waiting baby, I have you.” You feel him rock the warm head of his cock through your cum soaked folds back and forth collecting your slick so he can slide into you with ease.

“Baby please.” You beg.

“What about protection?”

“No condom” you shake your head.

“No? You want me to fill this pretty little pussy? Claim you? Breed you? Make you mine?”

“Yes” you plead with a hint of desperation in your voice. The glint behind your eyes was too much for Eddie to say no.

“You want to be mine?”

“So bad, Eddie. Please, I want to be yours. I’ll give you everything, please.”

“Such a good girl. I like it when you tell me what you want.” He stroked the side of your face before cupping it to take you into a long kiss as his cock penetrated your leaking hole.

Another muffled moan from the both of you filled the room as his cock stretched your inner walls. Never had you had someone this big before; it's been a little over a year since you’ve had sex with a man. You don’t remember why you’ve waited this long. All thoughts about body image and self-hatred melted away with each brush of his cock.

“Fucking pussy is so tight.” He gritted through his teeth, trying not to spill his load into you already. Eddie swore he died and this was heaven. Your pussy was heaven on earth; nothing ever felt this good, not anyone, not anything.

“Faster.” Your hips matched his rhythm as you ground down onto his cock.

"You sure you can handle it, baby?"

"Yes!"

Lewd sounds of wet skin slapping filled the empty space of your bedroom. Cries of pleasure and touches of wanting filled the space and one another minds as the two of you couldn't get enough.

"Love how needy you are for me. Just can't resist my cock can you baby?"

unintelligible left your lips as Eddie rocked furiously into you.

"Anwer me, baby, or I'll stop. You were doing so good before."

"Yes! I want your cock." you cried.

"I'm so proud of you; you're taking me so well. Who's my beautiful girl?"

"m-me," you stutter as his cock brushes your spot.

"Fuck youre so beauiful. You're going to be even more beautiful after you're filled with my cum. You want hat baby? Want my load inside of you?"

"Yes!" your fingers dig into the flesh of Eddies back, leaving raised red scratches in their wake.

"Please- wanna cum so bad." you breath

"Fuck yes, baby, claim me. Make me yours cum on my cock."

It didn't take much longer as Eddie began to play with your swollen bud of nerves before you were falling apart all over again. A silent scream, your jaw hung lax as the sound gets caught in your throat, and another tidal wave, this one bigger than the last, washed over your whole body as his cock and fingers continued to work your needy pussy.

Eddie watched your fucked out state feeling so satisfied with himself. "Fuck that's my girl, squeezing me so fucking good." You feel Eddie jerk one last time before he spills everything inside of you. "Fucking take it."

You snap out of it when you feel the weight of Eddie collapses on top of you. You let out a giggle in your blissed-out state.

"Something funny, pretty girl?"

"No-no, everything is perfect. Thank you, Eddie." You brushed his swaety hair off his perspiering face.

"No baby, I think I need to be thanking you. Never has anyone let me fuck them like that."

"Never?" You shy away, realizing what youve asked of him.

"Don't worry. You're the only one I've ever wanted to do that with. I think you unlocked something inside of me." He kissed the corner of your mouth.

"Yea, I like you... a lot. If that's not obvious."

"I like you too, Eddie."

"I sure hope so you let me cum in you." He snorted.

"God, you're so vulgar."

"Yea, but you like it. "

"I do."

[rainydayathogwarts]

Valley-girl Charm - Bucky Barnes

Summary: In which reader from the 1940s knows just how to play the damsel in distress to get exactly what she wants in the modern age after coming out of the ice. Or should I say: 3 times Bucky did things for you, and the 1 time you did something for him. SMUT!!!

2.9k wc

Natasha knew body language better than anyone. Tony knew how to play the knight in shining armour better than any hero in the old tales they told.

So of course, they were the first ones to pick up on the little game you were playing. It had started the second you were back from under the ice, charming anyone you spoke to with your 1940's valley girl accent, using words you'd only hear in old television. Men fell at your feet the second words came out of your mouth, offering you anything you'd dream of, and it didn't have anything to do with the super-soldier serum in your system either. You politely declined every time, but eventually understood the kind of power you held.

The second charming method they noticed you had came from your gorgeous smile. The moment you looked up at someone through your long lashes and beamed widely, looking so innocent and kind, people were willing to give you the clothes off their back if you asked. Of course, you never accepted anything from complete strangers. The two Avengers had come to their conclusion that you were still accustoming yourself to the norms of the new world, unaware of your ability to bewitch people with your natural appeal, however it was not long before they were proven wrong.

They didn't know if it was the fact that you were so familiar to Bucky and Steve, a comfort amongst all things new that made them more vulnerable to do anything for you, or if it was just your flirt, but they were immediately intrigued after seeing your interactions with the soldiers. They'd seen the way you spoke to the two soldiers just after coming out of the ice and hadn't noticed anything unusual apart from the fact you'd essentially come out of a time machine. As the weeks, months passed, they knew your intentions.

It had started by witnessing a simple conversation between you and the two soldiers. "Well I'm all nerves about going to speak to Agent Fury about that last mission. He's going to get all bent and blow a fuse." The two soldiers stood either side of you turned to face you in such synchrony it had almost been comical. Bucky was the first to speak, "Don't worry doll, I can go speak to him if you'd like. You shouldn't be the one he chews out." "Anyway," Cuts in Steve "We were the ones who screwed up honey, not you." From across the kitchen, Natasha rolled her shoulders back, nudging Tony with her elbow lightly as she stirred sugar into her coffee. Their eyes widened slightly at the wide smile sprawling itself on your face, peeking back and forth between the two men.

"Really? You boys don't have to do that just for me." Steve straightened his posture impossibly at your comment, but it was Bucky who beat him to the comment. "Honey, I'd do anything for a broad like you." You cocked your head to the side, a hand coming up to rest on his muscled bicep. "Why, thank you Sergeant. You dreamboats are too kind". Natasha's eyes trailed over to Tony when the three of you finally left, the two boys accompanying you seemingly wherever you wanted to go. "See, I didn't understand half of that conversation, but they are wrapped around her finger." Tony hummed "She's smarter than we thought."

The second time they witnessed it, they were convinced that you did it on purpose, their image of you quickly turning from innocent and naive to a femme fatale, manipulating men into thinking they're doing things for you because they want to. You'd all been hitting the bars, only missing Thor from the team. You had been occupying a large round booth, wedged between Bucky and Natasha, giggling with her about the man she found attractive sat at the bar, whilst the four men at the table shared stories. Natasha's eyes were quickly drawn to your hand as you placed it on Bucky's thigh, the man putting his own hand over yours almost instantly as he glanced down at you. You returned his look, grinning widely before turning back to your conversation with the tall red-head.

Natasha carried on with the conversation, pretending not to notice the intimate moment you'd shared with the soldier, but her jaw went slack nonetheless when Bucky leaned closer to you not two minutes later, whispering "You're drinking a margarita, right?" And rising from his seat when you nodded at him, humming in agreement. Bucky joined the group once more with two drinks in hand: one for him and one for you, smiling proudly when you cocked your head to the side, insisting he didn't have to. He only wrapped one muscled arm around your shoulders as a response, pulling you closer to him despite the humidity of the bar.

When you leant your head on Bucky's shoulder, stealing a glimpse up at him though, Natasha was no longer assured that those tricks up your sleeve were to get what you wanted. Perhaps you used them to get who you wanted. She sipped her drink instead of making a comment, afraid to scare you away with any questions when you'd only just begun getting close to her. Maybe in a couple of weeks during a girls' trip to the bathroom she'd bring up your relationship with him.

That girls' trip didn't end up being in a bathroom, but in a changing room, because next time something so significant had happened, the entire team was training together for the first time in a while, and Steve had declared that you were all doing a round robin. If you were still in the military, sure - you'd have moaned about it, throwing your head back in disappointment and hoping your supervisor hadn't seen you complain. But now, with the super-serum in your bloodstream? Well, you supposed you could be in a worst position, like Tony's, who didn't have any super-powers or spy training. With so many of you on the team, it'd take numerous matches for everyone to have their turn against each of their teammates, so after a quick warm-up, everyone had settled down on the mats of the martial arts training area to watch.

Soon later, everyone who was sat on the mats was trying to catch their breath as two team-mates sparred on the mats. Tony stood after Thor and Steve's match, adding another tally next to Thor's name on the big planning whiteboard before turning around with a wide smirk on his face. "Last match of the day." Bucky hopped up from next to you, sticking a hand out for you to take. Hesitantly, you took it, only for him to pull you up to your feet. "Us?" You asked, only for him to nod. "Well, I'm gonna let you have it, Barnes." You teased, tightening your ponytail. "Oh come on, might as well reach for the sky now, y/n."

"Steve, what the hell are they saying?" Called out Clint, leaning over to see the blonde man from across Natasha. "She's gonna hit him hard, and he says she should just give up now." Replied the man, taking another sip from his water. Tony picked up the whistle next to him, blowing into it, before scrambling back to watch with the others. The second the time started, Bucky faltered - how the hell was he supposed to hit you? But there was already a fist flying to his face which he barely dodged, instead swatting your wrist away from him.

You stared at him intensely from behind your fists, shielding your face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Come on Barnes!" Steve yelled from the sidelines. Bucky's face mirrored yours, his eyes laced with confusion, but he threw a fist anyhow, going for a body shot instead of your face. Nevertheless, you moved to the right, dodging his fist, and grabbing his arm as leverage to help you jump up. You threw your right leg over his shoulder, and behind his neck, swinging your other leg over his second shoulder, and crossing it over your right leg to trap his arm between your legs and over your torso. You tensed your quads as much as you could, hoping the triangle choke would work on him, but instead he used his metal arm to push your thigh over his head as much as he could. It was working, slowly but surely.

"Fuck" you muttered when he slipped his head in the gap between his shoulder and your thigh. You were now essentially hanging onto his arm, both legs over one shoulder. Before he could react, you flexed your core muscles, and sat up onto his shoulder. You released his arm, jumping off his shoulder so you landed behind him, and softly push-kicked him the back so he stumbled forward. As he did though, one hand reached behind him and grabbed your ankle, so you were dragged along with him. You slipped onto your back as he fell forward but Bucky was quicker, getting up instantly to straddle your hips. He leaned forward, above you, trying to get his arms around your neck to get you in a chokehold, but the second you giggled, he shot back up again.

"Sorry, that tickled." You insisted, hand coming to your neck to play the part better, a broad smile gracing your lips. Just as Bucky opened his mouth to say something, you reached out to grab both his hands, bucking your hips up and turning to the side to flip him over. You were on top of him in the blink of an eye, mimicking his movements as your arms snaked around his neck. You successfully put him in the same chokehold he had tried to put you in, but when you twisted your wrists, the blood supply to his face immediately cut off and you felt his hand tapping you twice on the shoulder. "You cheat." Was the first thing he said after his gasp for air, but you only shrugged, rolling off his chest. "I was only using sources available to me."

You giggled as you ran off to catch up to Natasha, already waiting for you by the doors to the changing room. "So..." She started, quite obviously. "So... What?" You echoed, looking up at her curiously, shimmying out of your shorts. You turn around so your back faces her as you struggle out of your sports bra, wrapping your towel around your sweaty body before spinning back around. "You and Bucky. This flirting has been going on for weeks. Do you like him, are you dating?" You laughed, cocking your head to the side. "You don't know?" She shook her head quickly, sitting down on a bench. On the other hand, you just opened one of the doors to the clean showers, calling out to her.

"Well, before the ice, me and Buck knew each other from the military, we got along well. The only problem was, he was my superior. I couldn't possibly make a pass at him and be known as the soldier who had the nerve to try and lay paws on her superior. But there was always something there..." At the lack of response, you stuck your head back out of the shower, to make sure Natasha was still there. "Natasha?" The spy looked at you with her mouth wide open in shock. "What!? And you never told me?" You shrugged, turning the water on. "Well I thought y'all knew."

Her silence told you enough about how much she really knew. As she muttered to herself on the other side of the door, you submerged yourself in the water, massaging shampoo into your hair, hearing flashes of "before the ice" and "he was your superior?" so you assumed she was still talking to you, even though you ignored most of what she said. You barely heard her goodbye and the sound of the changing room door opening and closing one more time, before the sound of water running was all you could hear.

"Y/n? Natasha let me in, she said you were done." You perked up at the sound of Bucky's voice, exclaiming "Here!" He approached the sound of your voice, stopping when he realised Natasha had deceived him. He stood in front of the dark wooden door, watching the steam dance in the space above your door. "Is it anything urgent?" The towel hanging from the door disappeared into the other side, and Bucky realised shaking his head wasn't enough of an answer because the door swung open to reveal you, soaking wet and completely naked with the exception of the small towel that barely covered your private parts. "Oh! Hey you!" You exclaimed, taken aback at his proximity, yet smiling all the while.

Bucky stood frozen in place, mouth ajar as he search for his words. "I'm sorry, I- I, you look beautiful." You giggled at his words, approaching his shirtless, freshly showered figure. His long hair was wet and skin was glistening, and he only wore a pair of jogger shorts to conceal himself. You have to admit, they weren't doing a great job and covering the growing tent in them. Your eyes trailed back up his body to meet his, smiling at him again. "Anything I can help you with, Sergeant?" Bucky's hands hesitantly rose to meet your hips. "I-No it's fine." Your hand met his and you dragged him with you three steps backwards, back into the shower you had just exited. You reached your arm behind him, locking the door once more.

"You're sure?" Bucky shook his head, pulling your hips flush against his as he slammed his lips against yours in a needy kiss. You gasped as your towel started to unravel, but you didn't try to stop it, wrapping your arms around Bucky's shoulders instead. When he separated from you, opening his eyes, they immediately widened, and his bit his lip, poorly trying to suppress a moan. You pushed Bucky back gently, urging him to sit on the small wooden bench. He sat down, legs spreading to make space for you between them, but when you started lowering yourself onto your knees, he shook his head frantically, begging "No, no, none of that, doll. I just want you sweetheart."

The cold metal of his arm flush against your skin chilled you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you up to sit on his laps. He grunted, frantically pulling down his cotton shorts. You aided him at doing so, gasping when his cock sprung out, the absence of any underwear surprising you. You immediately took his dick in your hands, watching as Bucky's face scrunched up in pleasure. You guided him inside you, sitting down flat on his dick, but you couldn't help the loud moan that escaped you as you did. You whined, beginning to drag yourself up and down his dick, gradually speeding up your movements. Bucky's hips met your frantically, until his pace was so quick you couldn't keep up. "Buck!" At your plead, he wrapped an arm around you, using his metal one to support both your weights on the wall, and he stood up, walking forward until your back was pressed against the cold shower wall.

You gasped at its feeling against your skin, jerking forward once more when Bucky's metal hand came up to play with your nipples as his speed increased once more. Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, cussing loudly before biting his bottom lip in fear of being heard. His hand left your breasts, instead blinding searching for the shower handle. When he found it, he immediately pushed it upwards, the instant noise of water shooting out moderately covering the sounds of pleasure you made. Your wrapped your arms around his tighter, grinding your pussy onto his pelvis as he thrusted into you, your clit rubbing on the short hairs near the base of his dick.

You busied yourself pressing kisses on Bucky's neck, the water squelching between your bodies as you passionately moved against each other. "Fuck y/n" Bucky moaned, chasing your lips, panting against them once he met them in a deep kiss. Your hands cupped his face as you kissed, deepening it impossibly, and his metal hand went straight to your clit, rubbing circles on it as fast as he could. Your leg twitched and you didn't have time to warn him before you were cumming all over him. "Shit!" Bucky grunted, pulling out of you as he balanced you on the wall, his hand coming to jerk himself off quicker. You put your hand over his, legs still wrapped around his torso, teasing his sensitive tip as you stroked him up and down. With a deep shudder, white stripes of cum shot out of him, painting your belly white, only to be washed away with the shower's stream.

Bucky put you down gently, making sure you wouldn't slip before cupping your face with his large hands and bringing you in for a much slower, more passionate kiss. You pulled away from him, keeping him close as you peppered kisses all over his face. He laughed, trying to pull away from you and saying,

"We should have done this about 80 years ago doll, don't you think?

[chvoswxtch]

Hi it’s @feelmyskinonyourskin (can’t ask off anon cause I’m a side blog) I’d love to order a macchiato over ice from Frank please!!!! Congrats on 4K!

hi darling! thank you so much!

I appreciate you giving me the freedom to discuss all my slutty thots about frankie. I think one thing that doesn't get talked about enough is that frank secretly likes it rough so let's discuss

as a reminder over ice means it's spicy! (minors dni)

headcannon below the cut

frank castle secretly likes it rough

i've said it once & i'll say it again, i'll die on this fucking hill: frank castle is a hopeless romantic. he's an old fashioned, brings you flowers on the first date, arrives fifteen minutes early, opens every door for you, doesn't hesitate to pay the tab, doesn't expect you to invite him inside, perfect gentleman

he's a giver. he makes sure his partner is well taken care of before he even thinks about himself. in all the flashback scenes with maria, she's on top, & frank is letting her set the pace & do whatever she wants

in his scene with beth, we see a snippet of something similar to that but, we also see a hint of frank exercising a bit of control. the way he grabs her face where he's essentially grabbing her neck & face bc his hand is so damn big, how he's gripping the sheets, pinning her to the mattress completely- he's clearly holding back bc he probably doesn't wanna go too far & scare her, but there is another side of him that is dying to come out

it's something you catch onto, & something you wanna explore. not that you don't love slow & sweet romantic sex with frank, or flirty playful sex when a few drinks have loosened him up, but you want something more

but frank being frank is never going to ask you to let him be rough. it would make him feel selfish to use your body for his own benefit. he's also terrified of going too far & hurting you. he's so violent & dangerous in so many other aspects of his life, & he never wants you to see that side of him

but you know that frank would rather die than hurt you, so you make it your mission to convince him that he doesn't have to hold back anymore

one night while you're laying in bed, both of you half undressed, frank lying between your hips as you two share a heated & sensual kiss, his hand glides downward from your cheek to your neck, giving it the faintest of a squeeze before letting go. reaching out to grab his wrist, you pull back & stare up at him

"stop holding back."

frank looks down at you in pure puzzlement. he doesn't understand what you're talking about. he cocks his head to the side & searches your eyes for an answer

"stop doin' what?"

maintaining eye contact with him, you bring his hand back to your throat, placing your hand on top of his and squeezing it to show him that it's okay

"I know there's a part of you that wants more, and so do I. you can let go, frank."

when he catches on to what you're saying, his confusion melts into a serious look of apprehension, & he starts to shake his head

"sweetheart-"

you expected him to protest, so you already have your argument ready. you're not backing down from this

"frank, you're not gonna hurt me. you don't have to treat me like i'm made of glass. you can be rough with me. I can take it."

frank doesn't budge. he's still got that apprehensive look in his eyes, but you also see a flicker of need. you squeeze his hand one more time over yours to show him that this is what you want too

"I know what my limits are, frank. if it's too much i'll tell you, and I trust you enough to know you'll stop."

frank is silent for a moment, & you're worried that he's going to keep being stubborn. but then you notice how his eyes darken, & the low timber of his voice makes you shiver

"you promise you'll tell me the second I do somethin' you don't like?"

your eyes light up with excitement that frank is actually considering it. nodding your head eagerly, you stare up at him, feeling heat spread throughout your lower half

"I promise."

those two words of consent make something inside of him snap. this time when he captures your lips, his kisses are more aggressive & demanding, & they travel down the column of your throat. he bites down on your neck, not hard enough to hurt you, but just enough to leave a possessive mark behind that makes you squirm. he soothes the sting with his tongue & continues his assault on your neck, savoring the noises it pulls from you

his large hands are everywhere. squeezing your breasts, gripping at your hips, kneading your thighs, leaving faint bruises behind in his wake, all evidence of him completely giving in to his own desire

normally frank eases into you & gives you a moment to adjust, but not tonight. as soon as his thick cock is buried to the hilt inside of you, he's snapping his hips relentlessly, pounding you into the mattress

one of his hands holds both of your wrists, keeping them pinned above your head, and his other grabs your neck. his thumb is on the left side of your jaw and his index finger is on the right side, holding your face in place, while the rest of his fingers are wrapped right around your pulse point applying a little bit of pressure. frank always wants to be able to see your face when he's fucking you, but especially right now. he wants to make sure you're enjoying this as much as he is, watching you closely for any sign of discomfort

but all he sees is your mouth hanging open & your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. incoherent moans are leaving your lips, & your cunt is squeezing his cock in a tight grip. it makes the last of his resolve vanish & he's leaning in to grunt in your ear, speaking in a low & rough voice

"this what you wanted, baby? wanted it rough like this, yeah?"

frank is repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you that only he's ever been able to reach, the one that makes supernovas explode behind your eyelids & renders you speechless. he chuckles darkly at your inability to speak

"look at you, takin' my cock so well. bein' such a good girl for me, yeah? lettin' me have you like this?"

the room is filled with the echoes of skin slapping against skin, frank's feral grunts, & your incoherent moans that keep rising higher in volume & pitch. frank has you completely at his mercy, pinned to the mattress beneath his large body, hands held captive above your head. you can't move, not like you even wanted to, & you can't hardly speak to tell him how close you are, but he knows. he always knows

"gonna come already, sweetheart? you like it that much? shh shh shh...I know baby, I know you do. I can feel it, yeah? such a good fuckin' girl. go on baby, come for me. you've earned it."

frank fucks you through your orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he's still relentlessly thrusting, & even though it's overstimulating, it feels too good to want to stop. he groans in your ear when he feels your walls tighten around his cock & flood him with your release, but he hasn't come yet. gripping onto your hips even tighter, his thrusts somehow get even rougher, & in a matter of minutes you're barreling towards another orgasm

"want ya to give me one more, sweetheart. you can do that for me, yeah? c'mon, be a good girl and come for me again. that's it...that's a good girl...that's fuckin' it baby."

only when he feels you come for the second time does frank finally give in to his own release. his hips stutter as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, grunting loudly while he's emptying himself inside of you

while you're trying to catch your breath, frank gently caresses your cheek with his thumb, a stark contrast to how he was grabbing your throat just minutes ago

"you alright, baby? wasn't too much, was it?"

all you can do is let out a breathless laugh, staring up at him in a haze of bliss and incredulity

"are you kidding me? I can't believe you've been holding back on me this whole time."

frank just looks down at you with a huge grin on his face, leaning in to kiss you softly

"I won't anymore, if it makes ya happy."

once again, i need to be put down like a rabid dog

[wilcze-kudly]

I do find it annoying how a lot of Zutara fans tweak the character's stories, personalities and even the timelines to suit their own needs.

Once again, there's nothing wrong with fanon and headcanons, however if looking through the lense of canon, you're objectively wrong.

I ended up stumbling on a post from a Zutara shipper. (At this point I'm regretfully considering not following the tags for Zuko or Katara because I get way too much Zutara content lol) I'm not replying directly to her because I don't want this to turn into an argument, and I know she doesn't take criticism very well.

Ok, So let's break this down.

The character who was first out of the group to trust Zuko?

I'm quite sure this is referring to the scene in Ba Sing Se's caves. And yes, that is a very important scene. I think it's a very important scene preceeding Zuko's 'relapse'. It shows how he's matured during his time in Ba Sing Se and therefore it serves to add to our dismay when he joins Azula. I adore the fact that Zuko's journey to redemption is not linear, it certainly adds a lot to the character and shows us how his trauma affected him.

It's also a horrific moment for Katara. To have her worldview on Zuko and firebenders as a whole challenged, and then for it to go blowing up in her face. It rips open old wounds of her childhood. It refreshes her resentment of Zuko and the Fire Nation as a whole. It parallels the death of her mother when Aang dies due to Azula's lighting and she is unable to do anything about it. It places her back in that spot of helplessness. Even though she's grown up, even though she's a master waterbender, she still comes a hair's breadth to losing one of the most important people in her life.

No wonder she hated Zuko so much after this.

It's an important moment for both characters, but I wouldn't say it is that in a romantic sense. It's a sweet, hopeful moment that then turns absolutely horrific and visceral for both parties.

I could argue that there are other characters who could be given the title of 'first to trust Zuko'. Funnily, Appa being one of them lol.

But other characters trusting Zuko dovetails nicely into the next point.

The character who emotionally connects to Zuko?

Well, technically, I'd argue that most members of the Gaang connect emotionally on one level or another with him?

But I'd argue that Aang is the person Zuko connected with the most. Aang is Zuko's parallel. Aang is the first person to reach out to Zuko. Aang is the person who showed mercy to Zuko, multiple times. Aang is the person who valued Zuko's life, the life of someone whose whole life goal is to capture him.

This was also an incredibly important moment to Zuko. This is the thing he brings up when trying to convince the Gaang to let him join.

Zuko: Why aren't you saying anything? You once said you thought we could be friends. You know I have good in me.

The character Zuko feels safest letting his guard down around?

It's Mai. Love her or hate her, her relationship with Zuko is incredibly important to him. Maiko isn't my favourite Zuko ship, in full honesty. But even platonically, Mai and Zuko are one another's reprieve from their respective shitty lives.

People often talk about Katara touching Zuko's scar while discussing healing his scar, however one could argue that she did so as a medical examination. Mai touching Zuko's scar is a casual thing, neither of them really make a big deal of it and that's the beauty of it.

I'm mainly talking out of my own personal experience, as someone with a huge amount of burn scars, but there is a world of difference between someone inspecting my scars like Katara did and simply accepting them as a part of me, like Mai does for Zuko.

With Mai, Zuko isn't the scarred banished prince, Ozai's son or Azula's brother. He's just Zuko. And they speak freely with one another, arguing like real people do. Often, being comfortable having arguments is actually a sign of being comfortable with one another.

The character who helps Zuko heal from his trauma?

Once again, this is a bit of a flawed question. By the end of the show, Zuko isn't even fully healed, in my opinion. He has made leaps and bounds on the road to recovery, but when he will truly heal if ever is yet to be seen.

Zuko's journey to recovery includes plenty of people. This includes Iroh, Aang, Song and Jin. People who show him the error of his coping mechanism. Who challenge his worldview, who coax him out of the his shell of pain and anger.

The character known for showing most compassion to others?

Yes, Katara's compassion is a huge part of her character. Her need to help and protect those who cannot do that for themselves cannot be understated.

But Aang's compassion for others and all beings is just as great, if not greater than Katara's. Compassion and nonviolence are huge parts of his culture and his own philosophy.

Aang: Wait, we can't just leave him here. Sokka: Sure we can. Let's go. Aang :No, if we leave him he'll die. Aang airbends himself off Appa and retrieves Zuko, bringing him to Appa. Sokka: [Sarcastically.] Yeah, this makes a lot of sense. Let's bring the guy who's constantly trying to kill us.

Friendly reminder that Aang could've absolutely wrecked Ozai, but held back because his own moral compass was so powerful. Hell, he was friendly and nice to Azula, the woman who literally killed him.

This is why Aang and Katara work so well together. They're both incredibly compassionate people who will immediately jump in to help others in need. Like they did during the Painted Lady, destroying the factiry together.

The character who primarily bears the burden of having to step up into a parental role?

I think "parental role" is an incredibly vague term. There's a lot of things that go into a "parental role". Katara plays a stereotypically "maternal" role, while someone who plays a "paternal" one would probably be Sokka.

Katara deals with very "homemaking" tasks like sewing and cooking, etc. And Sokka often takes on the role of leader, hunter, gatherer and also protector, despite being a nonbender.

This coincides nicely with their core childhood traumas. The loss of Katara's mother impacted her greatly, leading her to have to step up into a motherly role. While Sokka was clearly heavily traumatised by his father departing and the crushing responsibility of having to care for his entire village.

Sexism also probably played a part in this dichotomy.

The character who represses their emotions to be strong for others?

I'd argue that this could apply to all the members of the Gaang in some capacity.

Aang's pain is something most of us will never experience and cannot hope to understand. The complete horrific destruction of his culture and home followed him through the entire show. He was entitled to his grief and rage, yet he supressed it. We see during Appa's kidnapping, how easy it would be for Aang to rage, to let himself be destructive. And yet, he wakes up every day and chooses to smile and goof off, because his friends need someone to remind them how to be children.

Sokka puts on a very impressive bravado, despite having a lot of insecurities. However, as the oldest member of the Gaang (pre Zuko) he puts on a facade of the confident and unbothered older brother. Even if he's the butt of almost every joke, he still keeps that demeanour up, letting it slip only a few times.

I'd actually argue that Toph is the person whom this label fits best. While we know Toph as witty, callous and strong, we have to remember that she kept up the facade of her parents' good, helpless little blind girl for no reason other than her mother and father's comfort. She actually hides a lot of her hurt, covering it up with a prickly exterior.

I want to do longer think pieces about Toph and Katara so apologies if this isn't complete.

I'm actually baffled by the idea of Katara repressing her emotions. She's actually quite straightforward and open about her feelings. She yells and feels a lot of emotions and lets them be heard. She gets angry and sad. She's actually kinda bitchy sometimes and that's honestly why I love her so much.

The whole inciting incident of the show was her getting so pissed off she somehow pulls a giant iceberg from the bottom of the sea.

She is anything but repressed.

She is angry.

She's angry at the fire nation, at Sokka, at her father, at men, and with good right to be so.

This is what makes her an amazing character and one who broke the mould of a lot of female characters at the time. Her anger and unrestrained emotions rang true with a lot of watchers at the time. I'm not sure why this is being taken away from her rather than celebrated.

I reiterate the point I made at the beginning of this post: there is nothing wrong with headcanons and fanon interpretations for one's enjoyment. I do find it a bit odd when it changes a character too much (because then, why not just create an oc?) but it's all in good fun. However, you shouldn't push that onto other people and how they perceive canon and you certainly shouldn't use it to take away from other characters. It's a very unfair way of entering discourse.

[vivwritesfics]

Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter Five - Lilac

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

1.2K

Warnings: hints of smut, talks of death and murder

Series Masterlist

The Dupont's weren't in the Netherlands for very long, just a week. But Max was determined to make every second with her count.

The broom closet was potentially the most unforgettable moment of Max's life. When their father's finished the meeting and Max was called back to Jos's side. It was incredibly difficult for him to concentrate on anything with a lacy, lilac underwear in his pocket.

It was easy to convince Jos to let him spend more time with her. All Max had to do was tell his father that his spending time with her and being nice to her was manipulation tactics, and Jos agreed. Max said things to his father, things that made him sick to his stomach. He knew Bunny wasn't stupid and pliable, but those words had Jos agreeing.

Max had never been the type to take a girl out for lunch or dinner. In his line of work it was easier to just sleep with them and move on. But not Bunny. He couldn't get her out of his head if he tried.

It didn't help that she looked so pretty sat across from him, sundress covered in pretty blue flowers, as she sipped her drink. She'd been saying something, but Max didn't know what, too busy admiring her to listen.

She looked at him like she was expecting an answer. "Sorry, Angel," he said, shaking himself out of it. "I was a little distracted."

He'd been staring at her the entire time, she knew. Her smile was wide, shy embarrassment written on her face as she looked down at her near empty drink. "I asked when you're coming back to Monaco," she said, using her straw to stir the drink.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when he thought. "I don't know, Angel," he answered. Angel, never Bunny. She loved it, loved the way her insides squirmed every time the name left his lips.

"Are you gonna tell me when you're back?" She asked.

Max's heart jumped, ready to leap out of his chest. She wanted him around for more than just her short stay in the Netherlands. He knew he had to get back to Monaco as soon as possible.

"Angel, I promise," he began. As soon as I'm back in Monaco, I'll come see you," he said, hand reaching across the table. He didn't know what he expected, maybe for her to place her hand in his. Not for her to start running her nails across his skin in such a soothing manner.

A shiver ran down his spine. It was a mixture of soothing and ticklish. He sucked in a breath as he turned his hand over and she began tracing patterns along the back of it. "When you come to Monaco, we'll have to do something fun," she mused. "Plus, you'll have to return my underwear to me at some point."

His eyes damn near bulged out of their sockets at that. "Holy shit, Angel," he croaked out. He checked the time on his watch, only to distract himself. But then he found himself releasing a sigh and a small 'Fuck'.

Her nails stopped moving against his palm. "What is it?" She asked.

Max closed his hand around her fingers. "I've got to get you back," he mumbled and stood, pulling her up with him. "You're going back to Monaco tonight, right?" Max asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Yeah," Bunny mumbled, a pout on her pretty lips. "Are you sure we have to go now?" She asked and Max nodded his head.

Lacing her fingers through his own, she allowed herself to be pulled away from the Café max had taken for to for lunch. In that moment she wasn't Bunny, she decided. No, she was Angel.

They passed a secluded little alleyway. It wasn't pretty, not by any means, full of rubbish bins and overflowing with trash. The smell as they passed was atrocious.

But still, she gripped his hand and pulled him into the alleyway. "Angel," Max said, catching her before she could flatten herself and her pretty white and blue sundress against the dirty wall. "What are you doing?"

Her hands were around his neck as she looked up at him, giving what Max could only describe as puppy dog eyes. "I don't want to say goodbye yet," she whispered and pulled him closer.

Max let his eyes drift shut. If his Angel was kissing him, he wasn't going to complain. He just pulled her against him, keeping her flush against his body. Max knew he was giving everything over to her, but he didn't much mind.

She moved away from his lips, kissing across his jaw and down to his neck. "Fuck me," she said breathlessly. "Fuck me right here, against this wall."

But Max shook his head as he pressed his forehead to her own. "I'm not gonna fuck you in this dirty alleyway," he said and checked his watched. "Besides, I've got to get you back."

He grabbed her hand once again, but this time her pout was unmissable. It took everything Max had not to give into her. "I'm sorry, Angel," he said as they approached the Verstappen stronghold. "I promise to make it up to do in Monaco."

She let go of his hand, but for no other reason than to protect Max and herself. Them being together, it was impossible, forbidden. If Dupont found out what the daughter he'd been trying so hard to protect had been doing? It would have started an all out war.

Max was silent as he led her to his fathers office. He knocked and waited for confirmation before leading her inside. Max stood himself by the window while Angel, his Angel, went to stand by her father.

"Dupont," said Jos as he looked over at the signature on the paperwork. "I trust the shipment will arrive in the next two weeks."

"Verstappen, you have my word," said Dupont, his hand coming to rest on his daughters back. She stood straighter, but her gaze was still focused on the ground.

No more pleasantries were exchanged as Dupont and Angel were led from the office. Jos waited just long enough for them to be out of earshot before he opened his vile mouth.

"She was was delectable," he said in Dutch, and Max clenched his fists by his side. "Much more pleasant to look at than that old crone Dupont would insist on bringing everywhere he went."

If it had been anybody else talking about his Angel like that, Max would have lost it and pummelled his face beyond recognition. But he kept himself composed. "What about the business?"

"She is Dupont's only living heir, and yet she seems incapable," Jos said, ignoring Max's question. "As soon as she takes over from him, Dupont and everything he has will be ours. I've always wanted to own part of France," Jos said more to himself than anybody else.

Max's mouth went dry. He said her name. Not Angel, not Bunny, but her name. "What happens to her once you've... gotten what you want?"

Jos laughed a dry sort of laugh. "Max," he said with a shake of his head. "She'll be dead."

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[pretty-circa006]

Sneaking Out

Stepdad! Negan x F! Reader

summary Negan catches you sneaking out to go to a party and punishes you accordingly

tags age gap (reader is 19, Negan is pushing 40), spanking, unprotected p in v, making out, slight dacryphilia, stepcest, nudity, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, vaguely implied underaged drinking, hair pulling, use of pet names, cumshot

this is my first time posting my writing on here, kinda nervy!

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

wc: 2.65k

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She sat on her bed, crying. Knees tucked to her chest and head held in her hands as small sniffles and whimpers escaped her lips, despite her best efforts to stay silent. She resented her mom for being so strict and not letting her go out to parties like others her age. She was sure her mom would have let up once she graduated high school, especially since she was legally an adult now, but it only seemed like she doubled down even more. Things got even worse once her mom married her stepdad, Negan. Per her mother's request, he installed security cameras in the front of house and the backyard to ensure she couldn't sneak out. And the few times she tried, she failed, because Negan would be up late, playing video games in the living room or smoking a cigarette in the backyard by the poolside, making it impossible for her to sneak out. She was so miserable, watching everyone have fun over the summer before college while she wasted away in her room with her only entertainment being behind a screen or imbedded in the pages of a book.

It was so unfair. Especially because she knew tonight was gonna be the party of the year. One of the rich girls in her graduating class was throwing a pool party at her mansion, her mansion which housed one of the best pools she'd ever seen. And somehow, she was lucky enough to be invited. This was an opportunity of a lifetime and if it meant being grounded for an eternity, so be it.

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She had one foot out her bedroom window when she heard a knock on her door.

"Hey kid, can I come in?" her stepdad, Negan's, voice called from the other side of the door.

"One sec, I'm not decent!" she fibbed as she stumbled back inside her room. She shut the window as silently it would go before she slipped under the covers of her bed, hiding the fact she had on nothing but a tropical, triangle bikini.

"Okay, you can come in now," she called out. Negan let himself in, glancing around her room suspiciously. She couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked with his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, tattoos peeking out from beneath his white t-shirt, and obvious outline of his dick through his gray sweatpants that hung low on his waist. Despite being hidden beneath her sheets and comforter, she felt vulnerable and naked beneath his skeptical gaze.

"You're not plannin' on sneakin' out, are ya?" he asked, tongue seductively swiping across his bottom lip. She nervously swallowed, heat blossoming across her cheeks.

"N-no, why?" came her shaky reply.

"You are a shit liar, kid," he laughed, a handsome smirk on his face.

"Why would I sneak out? There's nothing for me to out there anyway," she doubled down, not feeding into his bait. He stalked closer to her bed before sitting down at the foot of it, hazel eyes boring into her soul.

"So you're not going to that pool party happening right now?" The tone of his voice was sarcastic, hinting that he didn't believe a word coming from her mouth.

"Pool party? What pool party?" She punctuated her question with a fake yawn to try and convince Negan that she really was tired and ready to go to bed for the night.

"If you say so, kid. Just know that if I catch your lying ass sneaking out tonight, you'll be in for a world of hell when I punish you." Her thighs involuntarily squeezed together at his words and the action didn't go unnoticed by Negan. She nodded her head while silently praying he'd hurry up and leave so she can sneak out.

His eyes narrowed at her as he stood up. "Night, kiddo," he said, patting her knee through the comforter for good measure.

"Night, Negan!"

She continued laying in her bed, petrified, for another ten minutes until she heard the door to her mom's bedroom shut. Negan's words did manage to strike some fear into her, but not enough to deter her from her original plan. She was sure he was in bed now and falling asleep for the night. After silently sliding out of her bed, she tucked a few decorative pillows in her previous place in hope they'd fool Negan or her mom if they peek in to check on her.

Her hands were shaky when she re-opened her bedroom window. Nerves were finally getting to her. She could hear her heart beating rapidly in her ears as she began having second thoughts about doing this. Negan was nowhere near as strict as her mom, so his punishment couldn't actually that bad. Not that she'd actually have to worry about his punishment, because she wasn't gonna get caught.

She crept out of her window and stepped onto the roof. She closed her window, only leaving it slightly ajar so she could get back inside later. Careful not to slip on the roof's slippery shingles, she tiptoed to the edge and looked over at the space from here to the grassy ground. Too late to go back now. She sat on the ledge and turned herself around so she could hang from the ledge before dropping into the soft grass.

She looked back at the house, elated she was finally out and what fun was about to come

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The dark morning sky was slowly beginning to turn into a lighter blue as she clumsily climbed the trellis back onto the second story's roof. Her slightly intoxicated brain made it so her movements weren't as agile and quiet like before. She lifted her window open and unceremoniously fell inside, smacking the carpeted flooring with her face.

The first thing she noticed was the potent smell of tobacco followed by his signature whistling.

"Aw, fuck," she groaned to herself. She heard the springs of her mattress release as Negan got up and soon his socked feet came into her view. He reached out a hand and helped her up after she gratefully accepted it.

He looked pissed. His thick eyebrows settled into a frown and his hazel-green eyes were devoid of any kindness. She nervously crossed her arms over her body, feeling naked under his gaze.

"How was the pool party?" he asked.

"I wasn't a-at a pool party!" she lied.

His look only darkened, making her weak in the knees. From fear or arousal, she couldn't tell.

"What kinda goddamn fuckin' idiot do you take me for? You are literally dripping wet and wearin' a damn bikini!" he pointed out the obvious.

"I was swimming in our own pool in the backyard!" she lied with such little conviction that she couldn't even fool herself

He stepped closer to her and if she wasn't already so close to the wall she'd have stepped back. She averted her gaze and chose to look at the chipped, bubblegum pink nail polish that adorned her toes. Negan wasn't having any of it, though, and forced her to look up at him by grabbing a fistful of her wet hair and tilting her head up. Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

"What did I tell you would happen if I caught you sneaking out?" he asked between clenched teeth.

"That...that you're gonna p-punish me..." The tears were streaming down her face now as she sniveled pathetically.

"Attagirl," he darkly praised, a sinister smirk spreading across his face. The slight praise caused her stomach to do backflips and her core to clench over nothing. Her face felt hot and her breathing shallowed as her only thoughts were what Negan would do next.

His grip on her hair stayed firm as he walked her over to her bed. He released his hold before taking a seat onto the plush mattress. She stood before him, nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot and nibbling the skin around her thumbnail, awaiting what was to come. His large, warm hands gripped her hips, pulling her to stand between his legs. She glanced down at him as he looked up at her, but her eyes drifted past his face and down to the bulge growing in his sweatpants. She was embarrassed to admit it, but her mouth watered at the sight.

"Now, I want you to know that this shit could have been avoided had your stubborn ass just listened to me," he stated, his grip on her hips growing firmer. She nodded her head, not knowing what to say and not wanting to anger her stepdad even further.

He pulled the ties on either side of her bikini bottoms and let the damp garment fall to the floor between her feet. She nervously bit her bottom lip and looked down at him, but he was too busy eyeing her cunt and soft thighs, which glimmered with the slick of her arousal. He looked up at her as he licked his bottom lip. He patted his thighs.

"Bend over my fuckin' knee, doll," he ordered. She warily obeyed, despite the humiliation of having him see her bare, wet pussy. His roughish hands caressed the soft flesh of her ass, admiring the mounds. Without warning, his hand came down harshly on her right cheek, earning a yelp from her.

"Keep it down," he hissed before landing an even harsher slap to her other cheek. She only whimpered this time, pursing her lips to fight the noises that yearned to escape. He continued his assailment on her ass, leaving it stinging with numbness. Her whimpers turned into a mixture of sobs and wanton moans which only tightened his pants. By the looks of it, he wasn't the only one getting off to this punishment. Her cunt sparkled with her arousal, arousal which was leaking down her thighs.

"Negan, please!" she begged. Her thighs were clenched together as she tried to rub her aching clit on his thigh.

"What is it that you want, baby?" he questioned. His big hands kneaded at her squishy flesh. He knew damn well what she wanted, but he wanted to hear her beg. Her weeping pussy was practically begging to be stuffed with his big cock.

"Need you! Need to feel you inside me," she begged between sniffles and sobs. She stood up from being bent over his lap and sat on it, straddling him instead. His arms snaked around her waist and hers around his neck before she leaned down almost close enough to connect her lips to his.

"Please, Negan?" she whispered against his lips. His eyes flitted from hers down to her lips which were so close to his. Her eyes fluttered shut as she gently pressed her soft lips to his, his facial hair pricking at her skin. Negan could name a plethora of reasons why this would be wrong, but the one reason it felt right overpowered them all, so he grabbed the back of her head and crashed his lips against hers. The desperate moan she let out gave Negan the perfect opening to slip his tongue into her mouth. She tasted like some fruity cocktail that was really just a bunch of things mixed together by some inexperienced kid. He'd have to take her out for a real drink one day. His tongue traversed her mouth, consuming her. She desperately ground her bare pussy on his clothed bulge, eliciting pleasured groans from him. His hands felt up her body before untying her bikini top from the back and the neck, leaving her completely bare on his lap.

"Please, Negan, I need to feel you," she begged after pulling away from the kiss. His eyes were glued to her tits, watching them as her chest rose and fell while she caught her breath. He cupped them in his hands before giving them a squeeze. Her head fell back as she let out a wanton moan. The rough skin of his fingertips gave her hardened nipples some much needed friction as he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger.

"You got some nice fuckin' tits, babydoll," he complimented, only making her wetter.

Her hands slid down his chest, then torso, then stopped at the waistband of his pants.

"Neeegaaan," she impatiently whined.

"Well, baby, if you want it, go ahead and fuckin' take it." His dimpled smile almost brought her to her release right then and there. He lifted his hips so she could pull his cock free. His length audibly smacked his abdomen, the tip an angry, flaming red and leaking with precum. If her core wasn't aching so badly, she'd have gladly taken him down her throat. She took him in her hand. He was so big that her fingers didn't even touch. She stroked him a few times as he sucked bruising marks onto her neck and collarbones. He held onto her hips as she lined him up with her sopping center, stroking him along her slick folds before sinking all the way down on him. The stretch was there, but not painful because she was so wet and ready for him.

"Negan, you feel so good!" she moaned once he bottomed out inside of her. Her nails dug little crescent moons into his skin through his shirt as she began bouncing on his cock. He admired her tits bouncing as she rode him before pulling her closer and taking one in his mouth, kneading the other with his free hand.

The squelching sounds of her wet pussy and the smell off sex permeating her bedroom only made things more erotic. Negan was hitting every spot perfectly, but he wanted more. He freed her tit from his mouth before flipping their position. Her back was now laying against the bed and Negan stood over her, his cock still inside. Now that he had more control, his thrusts came harder and faster, his tip almost kissing her cervix.

"Goddammit, doll, you were made for my cock!" he praised. More profanities and moans fell from his mouth as her wet, spongy walls squeezed his cock. Her moans were growing louder and louder, making Negan worry that they might wake up her mom...who was his wife.

"I know that my dick is the best damn dick you've had and ever will have in your entire goddamn life, but you need to keep it down," he lectured. She rolled her eyes but pursed her lips in a feeble attempt to keep quiet.

They were both close to reaching their peaks and it was obvious by the way his thrusts grew rushed and sloppy and how her cunt was squeezing him.

"I'm gonna-" her sentence was cut off by a scream of ecstasy which caused Negan to cover her loud mouth with his palm. Her cunt squeezed him as her back arched off the bed and eyes rolled to the back of her head while she came. If he was thinking straight, he'd have left her high and dry as punishment, but his own orgasm was close and he'd be damned if he didn't cum. She removed his hand from covering her mouth and took two of his long, thick fingers into her mouth.

"Ho-ly fuckin' shit!" He swore, marveling at the sight. She hollowed her cheeks as she sucked on the digits.

"That's. My. Girl!" he praised with each thrust.He pulled out of her just as his orgasm came over him and shot his load onto her tits and stomach. He flopped onto the bed beside her and she rolled into his strong arms.

"Y'know I can't stay, gotta get back to your mom before she wakes up."

"Just ten more minutes?" she begged, looking up at Negan with those doe eyes of hers.

He sighed and lightheartedly rolled his eyes.

"Anything for my babydoll."

thank you for reading! if you have any feedback on how i can improve, i'd love to hear it!

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ one and two, chapter two (ls2)

logan sargeant x first daughter!reader // fc: yasmin barbieri

Forced to move in together, you and Logan slowly fall into an easy routine. It's not hard to act like you love someone when you do, even if they don't believe it, but you'll show him.

warnings/notes: a bit of low self esteem at the end, drinking and cursing, i tried to keep this as fluffy as possible. sorry for the long wait, i made this pretty long to make up for that <3

Apparently, according to your father, the best thing for you and Logan would be to move in together. Which... isn't a terrible thought process if you are in an arranged marriage, but you'd met Logan less than a week ago and now half of your stuff was being shipped overseas without as much as a question.

It felt... weirdly demeaning.

Despite the tension raising with your father, living with Logan is quite easy. He's late to bed, an early riser, your seperate rooms down the hall give you both space that's your own while leaving the kitchen and living room for moments where its okay to be together.

Plus, it makes it easier for you to fix your sleep schedule. The difference between London and Washington, d.c. isn’t that big, but it still throws you off for a few weeks.

And because of that, you don’t travel with Logan until the Spanish GP.

By then you’ve settled into life in London and planned your fashion shows and such around his schedule because it was more concrete than any schedule you'd make yourself.

Life in London was wonderful to you, because you able to keep a lower profile than in the states. It was nice to be able to take yourself out for coffee, or to go to your cycling class, or yoga, or pilates—or whatever you’re feeling, without too many cameras.

And you settle into life with Logan quickly.

yn.fdotus

liked by logansargeant, alexalbon, potus, and 987k others...

ynfdotus: cannot believe i let a blonde guy convince me to move from the heart of the states to a bit outside london 🩵

potus: big adventures await!

user1: shut UPPPP THIS IS SO CUTE??

user2: nah bc who convinced her.

lilymhe: yayy!!!! ur so close now!!!!! girls day.

⤷ yn.fdotus: only if @ lilyzneimer joins this time

⤷ lilyzneimer: oh babes im down 🩷

user3: wasn't she at the williams paddock for miami.... and her hug with logan after the race?? ive connected the dots.

⤷ user4: you haven't connected shit.

⤷ user3: i connected them !!

"I'm home!" Logan shouts down the hall of the flat as the door clicks shut behind him, his hand automatically reaching to lock it. You call back a greeting as you check over his meal plan notes once more to ensure you've cooked the food correctly before turning back to look at him as you turn off the burner you're using.

"You had lunch today right?" He asks as he comes around the corner and you nod softly, standing on your toes to grab some dishes out of the top of the cabinet. When your fingers miss the edge of the bowl, Logan's hand comes to your back to keep you still while he reaches up and grabs them for you, before settling them in your hands and kissing your cheek. And eyeing the dinner you're making with a bit of curiosity over your shoulder.

The quick kisses were another thing to help settle into the way you had to act for media. But honestly, they ended up being more of a habit now. But Logan would kiss anywhere but your lips, which sucked, because kissing Logan was like being shocked with electricity. It made you blush, it made your heart stutter, all you wanted was to be with him.

Logan moves back to the counter as you set down the dishes by the stove, and you turn fully to actually take him in now. He's in a hoodie and jeans, having changed after going to the gym, and you smile at him when your eyes meet, then you gasp.

"Oh! Flowers!" You exclaim as he sets down a few bags of groceries and other items you'd asked him to go run out to grab.

"I bought them for you." He smiles, genuinely real, crinkling at the corners of his eyes as you turn around to grab a spoon to get a little bit of the dish for Logan to taste before you plated it.

"Oh, what's the occasion?" You ask as you hold the spoon out to him, and he happily bites the salmon off the spoon with a content hum.

He raises his hand to his mouth and says, "There has to be an occasion? I just noticed the other flowers you have in the house are dying and these were pretty. Also, you cook this shit way better than I ever could."

You laugh out a thank you, and agree the flowers were dying as you turn to plate the food. Logan makes himself busy swapping out the flowers and getting all your little mood lights up so he doesn't have to turn the big light on when the sun finally sets. The big bay windows of your apartment letting in the last fleeting rays of golden sun, and he stands behind you for a moment to admire the way it curls on your skin.

"Hey, after dinner..." You turn, making eye contact with him and pausing at the way the golden glow lights up his eyes. The two of you just pause, sort of staring and taking in the moment before you clear your throat and you somehow manage to pull your eyes away to go set down the food.

"After dinner?" He prompts softly and you turn over your shoulder as he brushes behind you, one hand gently sliding across your back so you know he's there.

"Do you wanna walk to get ice cream? This little gelato place opened around the corner." You say softly, blinking at him with a sort of... awestruck, love filled expression. It makes his cheeks warm as he leans down to press a kiss to your hairline.

"Sure, just don't tell anyone I'm going off my meal plan."

You chuckle softly, moving to sit down next to him at the table, facing the window so you can watch the city around you moving around. Lights flickering on as the night closes in, the silence of the apartment is very soft and welcoming. Dinner is finished pretty quickly and soon you find yourself tugging on a hoodie while Logan finishes up the dishes, and then you both head out.

Walking down the busy but slightly quieter London streets, you wander towards the roadside to look at a flyer. Logan watches as you return to his side, and after a moment of walking on his left, you feel his hand gently take your wrist and bring you to the inside of the sidewalk.

You watch his face soften a little as he takes your hand in his and at a crosswalk, pops a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

And in the moment, you forget all about the gelato, all about London, all about the world around you. In the moment, it's just the warmth of his hands against yours.

yn.fdotus

liked by logansargeant, cambridgeuniversity, potus, and 912k others...

yn.fdotus: got to teach a wonderful group of sustainable fashion designers at @ cambridgeuniversity this morning. while I'm hitching a train ride to barcelona, i'm full of love for all the creatives.

my next teaching event will land me back in the states at @ SCADFASH in savannah during september ! you can book tickets at: scad.edu/yn.fdotus.visit !s

cambridgeuniversity: it was wonderful having you! see you soon!

user1: pls tell me shes going to barcelona for the gp

logansargeant: see u soon miss america :)

⤷ yn.fdotus: you too, captain america 🩵

⤷ user2: SHUT UPPPP????

Coming into the garage, you can feel the tension across the entire building. You glance to your side, taking in Logan's half the garage, before passing over with no hesitance. Dipping through some of the larger groups of workers, you find solace in the drivers rooms. Knocking twice, you hear Logan call for you to come in, and you pop open the door before shutting it behind you.

"Hey." You breathe softly and Logan smiles as he tugs his sleeves on, coming over to press a kiss to your cheek, "good luck out there."

After a few disappointing races, you knew Logan wanted nothing more than to finally smoke out his competition. And he'd been qualifying better and better, but was having an almost George Russel level weekend luck. You figured he might be the next Mr. Saturday.

You'd missed the past two days, busy with your own work, and you note how Logan is clearly at much more ease now that you're by his side.

"Thanks, baby." He murmurs softly, pulling you into a tight hug. You reciprocate without hesitance, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as you do. But theres something stiff that makes you step back, taking his head in your hands and pressing your foreheads together.

"What's a matter?" You hum, rubbing your thumbs under his eyes and hoping and he'll tell you whats up with him. Finally, he sighs and crumbles into your hold.

"I didn't tell you on the phone," Logan murmurs, closing his eyes as he leans into your touch, "I was having steering issues yesterday, they haven't been able to figure out the source of it."

You hum softly, leaning down to peck his nose before settling your foreheads together again, "how bad was it?"

"Not the worst I've dealt with, just some understeering."

"I don't know much about these cars, only what you've babbled at me before," You start with, earning a curious look from Logan as he opens his eyes, "but could it have something to do with your like... what is it, downforce? Isn't understeer or whatever affected by that? Like DRS?"

Logan blinks, then gasps, capturing your lips quickly before whispering, "you're a genius, I didn't even think of that."

And he drags you with him into the garage as he goes to ask about a million questions about his car, you're just happy to tag along with a bounce to your step and your hands intertwined. Alex and Lily are also in the main garage area, making some sort of Tik Tok together, and you suction to Logan's side as he speaks with his engineers.

The answer ends up being something with--not the rear wing but the front wing, or at least they find another issue that might kinda fix the steering issues with some shit like downforce or something... so you count it as a success.

Logan happily pops a kiss to your cheek in thanks as his head engineer gives you a fist bump for thinking of something they'd overlooked, you say its a lot like fashion, how one wrong stitch can ruin a whole dress.

Alex goes on to call you Elle Woods, and you feel like a nickname is cementing in Williams.

Logan goes on to place P6, his highest ranking of the season, which you determine calls for getting absolutely fucked up at the club. Your plan is surprisingly well accepted by the team, and you rent out a little back private room of some club blasting songs from any and everywhere as you drag Lily with you onto the dancefloor.

You're not sure how long you're out there before Logan and Alex are pulling you both back to reality, settling you at the back corner of the bar where you can watch Lando and Oscar betting over something Max and Charles are doing a few feet away. George trying to get Alex to try some sort of liquor, and Fernando chipping in a few bucks to the bet that Alex will like it.

"How much water have you both had?" Logan asks, a beer in hand as he leans on the bar behind you.

"I had two glasses, I think?" Lily says, "I can feel I need more though."

"I'll need more water." You smile, trying to hide the fact you don't remember if you've had water at all tonight. Logan nods, and whisks off to where Yuki has flagged a bartender down.

"You two are so cute." Lily gushes once Logan's out of earshot. Alex coming to stand beside her as he now nurses whatever liquor George was trying to get him to try in an Old Fashioned glass.

"I would've never expected the First Daughter to be dating a dude from Florida." Alex deadpans, offering Lily a sip of his drink, and she's also surprised by how good the drink is.

You laugh softly, tequila on your tongue letting the truth slip, "It's a Public Relations thing."

"What?!" Alex gasps and Lily nearly spits out her second sip of Alex's drink.

"Wait, seriously?!" Lily echoes, "But how? You two are so perfect!"

"And Logan's a shit actor." Alex adds with a tiny laugh. You feel an arm slide around you, and peek to see Logan as he hands Lily a water bottle, and then hands you one as well.

"Well," Logan chimes, "It's more of a like... arranged marriage kinda deal, rather than PR."

"You got in an arranged marriage? What, are you mormon?!"

"Mormon's don't do arranged marriages actually." You hum into your bottle before taking a sip, "And it's because of my father. He thinks, because my brother was a big party guy in his mid-twenties, that I'm gonna be the same way. Which is stupid, because yeah, I'll go and get drunk, but I won't blackout and flirt with a professor."

"Did your brother do that?" Lily snorts as you nod with a loud sigh, leaning into Logan.

"So, we're arranged." You shrug, "Doesn't mean I can't still like the guy. My parents were arranged too, and they literally are sickeningly in love with each other."

"Can vouch for that." Logan laughs softly as you smile up at him and take another big gulp of your water bottle. With Alex and Lily now in on the secret, you feel a bit more at ease, not having to play anything up as much with them.

But the night drags on far longer than it should, with Logan's arm around your shoulders between the hours when the clubgets too busy to really move.

The drivers all plan their escapes around three in the morning, and it's sobering for you to have to literally lean on Logan so you don't fall and die in the halls as you make it back to your hotel room.

"Christ. I didn't know you were worse of a lightweight than me." Logan hoists you up, one arm secure around your waist so you stay cemented to his side as he fiddles with the key to unlock the door. As you both get in, he helps you settle on the bed, taking off your heels for you and letting you curl up in one of the throe blankets you'd brought. He stands, moving back from you to the dresser with a soft yawn.

"Lo, baby," You hum softly and he turns, nodding as you reach out to him.

"It's okay, darling," He says softly, moving back over to kiss your forehead as you cling to his arm, "I'm just gonna get changed and grab you something to wear that isn't... a mini dress."

"Okay." You whisper, tired from the long night, and release him as much as you don't want to. Logan works around you for a moment, getting himself ready for bed before he leans down in front of you and helps you to your feet.

"C'mon. Let's get you ready for bed before you knock out."

Logan takes your hands as he leads you to the bathroom, sitting you on the toilet while he roots through your bag. You clear up which is which product, what order, and how to use them.

Logan takes the oil cleanser, pouring a little bit out and applying it to your face. The only spot he has you do is by your eyes, before he uses a wet rag to wipe it off. While he works you keep trying to wrap your arms around him.

He laughs softly, letting you cling to his side as he tries--bless him, to apply another cleanser to your face to properly clean your face now. Eventually, and after a bit of fighting with you to let go of his torso, he manages to get all of your makeup cleaned off, and skin... semi-properly washed.

"C'mon, pretty girl," he croons softly, brushing a hand across your jaw to tilt your head to face him, "Let's get you in bed, yeah?"

And even though the hotel has two beds, you coax Logan to cuddle with you in your drunk state. And you don't mind being wrapped up by his warm arms when you wake the next morning.

yn.fdotus

liked by logansargeant, alexalbon, oscarpiastri, and 978k others...

yn.fdotus: so. about last night... i don't remember much after the twentieth tequila shot... <3

logansargeant: its ok you have great dance skills

oscarpiastri: thanks for letting me win 20 in that bet

yn.fdotus: oscar. ur on thin ice.

user1: U WENT CLUBBING W THE DRIVERS???

lilymhe: my favorite lightweight <3

After Barcelona, the next race you go to is Silverstone. You've been biting your nails for weeks about this, the upgrades Williams is planning on bringing don't seem to be very... solidified. Logan tries his hardest to seem confident, but it's clear he's more worried than you are.

You do the track walk in Barcelona with Williams, idly tagging along last moment with Lily. It's more for PR, as the cameras snap photos of the four of you (Alex, Logan, Lily, and yourself) dicking around as you walk.

But theres a damper to the mood.

Sure, the weight problems in the Williams car is 'fixed' but it seems like something was taken away... something helpful.

You and Lily settle in the little watch area in the garage, you pulling out your laptop to get some emails sent out before the race, while Lily posts something on her Instagram.

Logan appears with his helmet on, wrapping an arm around you and saying, "Any last words before I get in the car?"

You look over, and pop a kiss to the little part of his helmet covering his lips--leaving a little smudge of lipstick behind as you knock three times on the side of his helmet, "Don't worry about the upgrades. You'll be fine, Lo."

"Thanks, baby." He almost grumbles, eyes squishing from his smile under the helmet. You send him on his way, and Alex scoffs from besides you where Lily is fixing his glove.

"I still don't get how you two claim you're 'just arranged.' Like, I just watched a cute couple moment." He laments, making Lily laugh as she leans back on the couch next to you.

"I'm just a great actress," You shrug, but can't deny the heat that rushes to your cheeks. You and Logan had an undeniable spark, and you acted way too romantic to be platonic even behind closed doors. But you had always just chalked it up to being for the bit, being for the media.

But... had you even done any of this for the media?

Alex bids farewell and you, with a bit of stammer and a blushing face, retire to Logan's drivers room. It's just practice today, so you find your able to get somewhat comfy, turning on the TV to show you highlights as you work in quiet solitude.

You're not sure when you doze off, but when you come back, theres something plush under your head. Blinking, you look up to see Logan, idly scrolling on his phone... with your head on his lap. Your arms are wrapped around one of his legs like you'd snuggled in, and he's thrown his jacket over your legs.

So you close your eyes and move to wrap your arms around his waist instead, and he chuffs out a soft laugh, murmuring, "c'mon, baby."

He hoists you up as he slides down to lay on his side, shifting until he's inna comfortable position. Then he slowly shifts you back into place, your head coming to his lay on his bicep as you bink your eyes open.

"Hi, sleepy." He whispers to you, "Don't worry, I saved your email drafts before shutting your laptop."

"How was practice?" You whisper and he shrugs, kissing your temple as you wrap your arm around his waist and slot your knee between his as usual. Or, your new usual since Silverstone.

"P10. Not terrible." He hums, "you were right about the adjustments. I just wasn't used to the car yet, it made me lag behind."

"You'll do better tomorrow." You murmur through a yawn and Logan draws you into his chest a bit more, firm arm around your shoulder as he lifts his chin to tuck your head under it.

"We have a bit to nap, get some rest." He whispers and you hum back a yes, the warmth of your arranged husband and the soft whir of the world outside pulling you into another nap.

You find later that night that Logan's being overly self-ciritical once again. You do all you can to coax him to at least apathy, but lay awake with his head on your chest (the hotel room now with one bed), thinking.

The next day you sneak down to a corner store to buy a tiny notebook, tape, and glitter pens, and employ both Alex and Benny to help you with your task.

You scrawl the notebook full of reassurances, word even getting to engineers, media workers, analysts, who all take turns writing little notes for Logan (and some for Alex you give to Lily)

And then you spend the time Benny distracts Logan with training to sprinkle them around his drivers room and gear. A tiny smile on your face as the stupid little idea tickles you so much. Even writing one and taping it to his water bottle.

You manage to miss Logan before qualifying, but he drives exceptionally well and ends in Q2. And when he comes back, you have a cold water bottle in hand, something Benny had started giving you to encourage Logan to drink more water.

Cameras follow him into the garage, but cut before he gets to you. His helmet is long since discarded as he leans down to peck your cheek in thanks for the water, taking a few gulps as you ask about the race.

"The race was good, it was... I felt more confident with the car." He swallows another sip of water, "I think we have a good chance tomorrow. Must be thanks to your notes."

You beam when he says that, his hand firm on your back as he holds you close. There's an air around you both for a moment, and you wish the feeling could stay forever.

If only.

He ends up getting track limits on his qualifying run, bumping him back on the starting grid by a hefty amount. You literally cannot determine where he breaks limits, but even with Williams challenging it, the penalty stays. Logan tries to brush it off, to pretend it doesn't hurt him, but you can see the stress in his eyes.

Another night you fall asleep thinking. But other than the notes you already placed, you didn't have any more ideas.

And then he places out of points when Alex snags a podium, in a stroke of luck and a safety car. Logan doesn't take the cold water you offer him, barely greeting you as he slips by to his drivers room, and you try not to feel distraught.

Benny gives him space, as does everyone else, so you follow suit and walk to the paddocks. Which is where you and Logan are finally reunited after the race.

"Hey, baby." You murmur as he walks over, slumping into your hands as you let his face be molded by their grasp, "You drove well."

"I couldn't get around Lewis." Logan murmurs in complaint, and you can feel the pant up anger starting to burn in his cheeks, "if I hadn't been such a fucking dumbass."

"Hey." you chastise, squishing his face before he pulls himself away, "You're not a dumbass, you had a shitty penalty. Lewis is a really good driver, sometimes it's hard--"

"But I can be better." Logan interrupts you, and you go to speak again before he says, "You deserve better."

"What the hell are you talking about? Deserve better?" You ask, stepping towards Logan as he tries to retreat from you.

Logan groans, turning back sharp enough you step back to avoid his shoulder colliding with your outstretched hand. Gritting his teeth, he hisses out, "You can back out of this little arranged thing, stop being so cutesy and so kind and so loving to me, because I don't deserve it. You deserve someone who wins. Because you're so fucking amazing, and I'm just... whatever the hell this is."

You are genuinely shell shocked, but Logan just continues before you squeak out a very soft,

"But I love you. Like I... I genuinely do."

And then Logan goes to backtrack, claiming you're lying and that there no way you actually do. You watch him sputter, scraping for excuses and reasons you're lying and theres only one idea that pops in your mind. Damn the cameras, damn the people around you.

"I am hard to love and you're just gonna hurt yourself trying--" Logan says as you cup his jaw before you press up on your toes enough to lock your lips to his. There's a moment of hesitation before his arm slides around your waist as he breaks to reconnect you properly.

And when you pull back, your cheeks burn as you whisper, "I do love you. And I'd crawl with bleeding knees and palms for years if it meant one day, one day, I can make you see yourself the way I do."

Logan is just staring and you stammer again, "Sorry, was that too much?"

"No." He answers quick, "No, that was what I needed. Do it again."

And you laugh, tossing your arms around his neck to pull him into a proper kiss this time. The scattering of camera flashes like the fireworks you feel in your gut.

yn.fdotus

liked by alexalbon, flotus, williamsracing, and 998k others...

yn.fdotus: all because I really like this boy 🩵

tagged: logansargeant

oscarpiastri: finally you guys have the guts to be public

⤷ alexalbon: now everyone can see how disgustingly in love they are

⤷ yn.fdotus: oh you are one to talk, alex.

flotus: so cute !!

user1: HOW DID LOGAN PULL HER?

⤷ yn.fdotus: @ logansargeant idk how did you?

⤷ logansargeant: my american charm obviously

user2: sobbing. my parents.

taglist (thank you all so much <3!!)

@stinkyjax @kroissant-content @samantha-chicago @jpg3 @mickf1loverf2too

@nixisracing @h34rts4maisey @heartsfromtaeyong @a-beaverhausen

@purplephantomwolf @insanedeathwish @llando4norris @formulaonebuff

@vicurious28 @lady1505 @lozzamez3 @kqliie @barbsschumacher

[thewertsearch]

And now we have to deal with this motherfucker.

It’s probable that Scratch knew things would play out like this, which means this message was always intended for Karkat.

...it's probable that that's the case, but there's always a slight possibility that we're in one of his dark pockets. If so, then Karkat wasn't supposed to see this message, and might be about to learn something Scratch doesn't want him to know.

Mr. Vantas.

Dang it.

I'm delivering this message through the console of one of my numerous unwitting proteges to give you a word of advice, and then you will not hear from me again.

Characteristically unhelpful - and in fact, it might not refer to either of Eridan's victims. We still have Tavros's corpse to deal with, and I'm sure there'll be more bodies hitting the floor before the day is out.

All of the bodies in the room remain as they were. There is clearly nothing to be concerned about whatsoever.

Feferi has an eldritch connection through the Horrorterrrors, and they could probably pull some dark magical shenanigans to get her body moving again. I think that's unlikely, though, since Feferi's ghost is active in the Dream Bubbles, and I don't think she'd actually want to be revived. After all, she's go a job to do.

I'm still convinced that Kanaya's coming back, but it's hardly going to happen while our back is turned. We're out of Kernelsprites, so she can't be prototyped - and we can't use her Dream Moon Slab, if it even exists, because Prospit's been destroyed by Jack.

Frankly, I can't think of a single realistic way to revive her short of time travel, and that's not a road we want to go down. I'm really trying not to think about what that might mean.

I guess that leaves Tavros.

There's definitely something going on with him that we don't understand. He was about to smooch Vriska before she stopped him, and the Breath symbolism surrounding the act makes me think it was more than just a typical Dream Self revival kiss. He has a hidden power, and that power seems to kick in when someone's dying.

Could Tavros be a little less dead than we've been led to believe? It's possible - his arc doesn't scan as complete to me. He'd only obtained the merest shred of confidence before Vriska brought him fatally down to earth, and I think there are still many interesting places you could take his character.

CG: THERE YOU ARE, YOU HAD ME WORRIED DUDE […] CG: QUIT THE BULLSHIT PARTYCLOWN ANTICS AND GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE. […] TC: shut up. CG: WHAT… TC: I SAID SHUT THE MOTHERFUCK UP, MOTHERFUCKER. TC: honk honk honk :o)

Gamzee’s rocking a new quirk. He’s still swapping cases, but they’re alternating every message rather than every character, as though his mind is less scrambled than it used to be.

Could this be how he talks when he's off the slime? He already seems more aware than before, and his grumpiness evokes a hangover - but he's honking more than he used to, which is the opposite of what I'd expect if he was sober.

CG: SERIOUSLY, GET BACK HERE NOW, AND HAVE A SLIME PIE TO RELAX OR SOMETHING. TC: SLIME? TC: there is no more slime, brother. TC: AND ANYWAY. TC: shit was motherfuckin poison, didn't you know?

Yup. It looks like Gamzee’s gone cold featherbeast.

It's not a great time for this to happen, but it's not like we can stop it now. I highly doubt Gamzee was forward-thinking enough to reproduce his pies through alchemy, and things are a little too tense right now to try getting clever with an Appearifier. For better or worse, his supply has dried up for the foreseeable future.

So now, for the first time, we're interacting with a Gamzee who isn't out of his mind on soporifics. His shift in personality is already pretty drastic, and I'm interested in seeing what the real Gamzee is like.

[dfortrafalgar]

Catch Up

Law x Fem Reader

You might have met your soulmate while intoxicated, making out with him in a dark broom closet. But the only thing you left with was his first name.

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!, reader is meant to be over 21, bar crawl setting and responsible alcohol consumption

--

A/N- I'm still (still!) working on requests, and posting un-posted fics from my google drive in the meantime. I'm hoping to have my inbox open once again at the end of the month, or perhaps early June, now that my work/life balance is adjusting properly since starting my new job! I'm really sorry to those who have been hoping for consistent fics from me, i really wish i could write as much as i was recently but i'm still trying really hard!

[Also posted on AO3]

Chapter 1

[Next]

It was hard to convince yourself that you weren’t just the slightest bit tipsy as you kept your head lowered and channeled all of your focus into making sure your feet walked in a linear path.  How many bars had you gone to again?  Four?  Five, maybe?  Your body swayed slightly with your gait as your mind scrambled to catch up with the last drink that you had.  It was only a cocktail, as all your other drinks from your bar crawl were.  Was it mango-flavored?  What street were you even on now?  You blindly followed the two women in front of you whose voices were gleefully mocking the words you had said some hours before the sun had gone down.

“‘I’m not a lightweight, never have been!’” chided Ikkaku, eyes crinkled in a smile as she poked fun at your previous confident statement.  She tossed a glance over her shoulder where you walked only a few steps behind.

“I’m not a lightweight!  My voice isn’t even slurring yet!” you fought back, increasing your speed to keep pace with your best friends.

“And what was the last drink you had?” Nami asked, pulling her phone out of her bra to check her map.

“A mango margarita,” you confirmed.  “With a little lime wedge and a mint leaf for a garnish.  The place was called Elgia Lounge and it was on–”

“Okay, okay, you’re not drunk!  We surrender!” laughed Ikkaku.  “I’m glad you’re not, though, because this next place apparently has some of the best pineapple daiquiris in the entire city.”

Your mouth started watering immediately at the thought.  You were always a sucker for sweet cocktails, arguably some of the most dangerous drinks due to the way the tangy, sour mixers completely blocked the taste of any alcohol added.  Sometimes, it was impossible to tell if there even was alcohol in the glass, but with the way you walked, there was obviously more than enough from your previous locations.  You hadn’t quite passed the threshold into drunk territory yet, but the image of a sweet and tart pineapple daiquiri might just be the thing to completely inebriate you.

Nami stopped dead in her tracks and looked towards the congested buildings immediately to your right side, scanning the signposts in the dark and looking for a specific one.  Tucked in between two sports bars, with absolutely zero signage on the graffiti-covered door, the red-head nodded her head toward the unmarked entrance.  “This is it.”

“Nami, you’re going to get us killed,” Ikkaku murmured, eyes squinting at the door to spot any indication that this was indeed a speakeasy and not a hidden trap house.  

“Am not, I swear this is the place!”

The three of you approached the steel door, Nami confidently being the one to ring the doorbell that was attached to a small intercom system.  It took a few breathless moments of mild worry before a voice filled with static came through the speaker.

“Password?”

You and Ikkaku were both blindsided as Nami crossed her arms over her chest and loudly proclaimed, “Suck my big, fat cock.”

Another few seconds of silence followed before the lock on the door clicked open and the same voice from before spoke, “Come in.”

“What the fuck,” you muttered in shock.

“Told you it was legit!” Nami chided with a giggle.

“A place that makes you say, ‘Suck my big, fat cock,’ as a password doesn’t seem very legit to me, but I’ll take your word for it,” Ikkaku mused as she followed Nami through the door and down a flight of stairs only illuminated with blue and pink fluorescent lights.

Graffiti completely covered the entire interior of the stairwell, leaving no part of concrete untouched from colorful ink.  Even the ceiling above you was marked in elaborate, incomprehensible swirls and zags of paint of all different colors, made even more colorful in the odd lighting.  The stairwell seemed to last forever as you followed your two friends down into the underground, clutching the steel railing for dear life as your tipsy vertigo fought with your ability to walk down a flight of steps.  You finally reached the bottom to another door, this time lined with a soft, cushiony leather fabric.  Nami pulled open the door and greeted a black-clad man standing in the small room directly behind it.

“IDs,” he grumbled.  Straight to the point.

The three of you fumbled through your purses for your driver’s licenses before handing each of them over to the man for a review.  He clicked on a pocket flashlight, scanning each card, handing them back to you with a hum.  “Enjoy the night, ladies.”  His large hand pushed open another door that was hidden in the wall itself.

The room that was opened to you was unlike any of the other bars you had entered, both during your current crawl and in your entire adult life previous.  The room was cloaked in a sexy blue and pink lighting, decorative art of pin-up models framed on the walls along with retro-inspired neon signs and liquor branding.  Groups of people filled the tables nearby, laughing and drinking through the booming music that flowed freely through the space.  It was crowded, almost overwhelmingly so, but you squeezed close to Ikkaku’s back as you pushed your way through the other patrons to get to the bar.  Your hand accidentally grabbed Ikkaku’s ass as her shoulder bumped into your breast, both of you wheezing out surprised laughter.

You popped through the stream of people to the bar which was, unsurprisingly, completely filled with every seat taken.  Two men worked tirelessly behind the counter, filling shakers with liquor and mixers, bitters and juices.  A bin of assorted fruits sat open in front of patrons, allowing the bartenders to grab their garnishes quickly and decorate their glasses with expert precision before passing them off to elated, tipsy customers.  You, Nami, and Ikkaku squeezed yourselves into the far corner of the bar, between the counter and a booth of patrons.  

“At least we can stand here!  It’s a bit crowded but it’ll do for now,” the red-head yelled through the shaking stereo that sat nearby.  

One of the two bartenders waved his hand in the air to attract your attention.  Long, spikey auburn hair framed a sharp face and crooked nose.  You were confused at the angular sunglasses that covered his eyes, but paid no mind in the end.  His voice cut through the music, but was clearly worn after a long night of screaming at people because of the volume.  “What can I get for you, ladies?”

Nami handed the man her credit card, explaining that she was going to close out after one drink for each of them, which he gladly accepted and placed in a secure box by the register.  Your eyes frantically scanned the illuminated menu above the bar, the raunchy, debauched names of the signature cocktails revealing absolutely nothing about their ingredients.  

“What the hell is a ‘Fuck Me Sideways?’” you shouted towards your friends.  

The man behind the counter cackled.  “That’s a pineapple daiquiri!  It’s sour as fuck, hence the name!”

Your mind flashed back to your conversation from the street, mouth once again salivating at the thought of the tangy, delicious concoction.  “I’ll get that please!”

The man memorized your three orders and immediately got to work.  You watched idly as he nudged his coworker’s shoulder and alerted him of the order so he could help with making your drinks.  It was then that your eyes trailed to said coworker.

All sound in the room faded into a muffled nothingness as your eyes narrowed on the other bartender, pupils dilating.  Toned, tanned arms and hands were littered in elaborate, grungy tattoos, and you could tell with the way his worn t-shirt dipped below his collarbones that he had another large piece on his chest, defining his pectorals even from beneath his clothing.  His jawline was sharp, a small goatee defining his chin, black sideburns framing his perfect face as intense, golden eyes focused on his work.   His tongue poked out from his thick lips slightly, revealing a tiny glimpse of a stud pierced through the muscle, and giving his intimidating appearance a sudden adorable qualm as long, deft fingers poured shots of liquor into his metal shaker cup.

You barely noticed the fingers snapping in your face.

“Hey, Earth to Apollo!  Can you read me?” Ikkaku hollered directly in your ear, shaking you out of your trance.

You jumped in surprise, music fading back into your consciousness as the sound of Nami’s laughter brought you firmly back to reality.

“Looks like someone’s got the hots for the emo bartender over there!” sang the red-head, leaning against the wall and making a very lewd gesture with her hands.

You grumbled.  “Do not!”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Ikkaku chuckled in response.  “He is pretty cute… if you don’t make a move I might.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you growled, making your best friends roar in laughter.  A rush of blood filled your face with an embarrassed heat.  “He probably already has a partner, a guy as hot as him can’t possibly be single.”

“There’s only one way to find that out, and it’s to talk to him,” lectured Nami.  “Come on, you’re on a bar crawl, you’re drunk, you’re hot, your pants make your ass look fucking amazing.  I would look the other way if you dragged that hunk to the bathrooms.”

“Nami!  Shut up!” you screamed, thoroughly embarrassed now.  It’s not like anyone could hear your conversation amongst the intense volume of the room, but the subject matter still made you flush from your tailbone to the crown of your head.

The conversation dissipated into enthusiasm about the location, the three of you taking note of the sex-positive decor and how good the playlist was.  Every once in a while, your eyes would dart back to the raven-haired man with his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he filtered a cocktail through the metal strainer and into a slim, iced glass.  He reached forward into his box of garnishes, procuring a thin lime wedge and expertly slicing it down the middle to perch it on the rim of the glass.  As you were staring at him, his eyes darted up directly meeting yours.  Your face flushed red hot with embarrassment, but before you could yank your gaze away, he flashed you a grin that had your legs quivering.  He held up the drink.  It was your’s.

You pulled away from Nami and Ikkaku who hardly noticed your movement as you approached the bar and reached between two peoples’ shoulders to grab your cocktail from the man who kept his deep, golden eyes on your form the entire time.  An elated, cold sweat ran up your spine and you flashed him as good of a smile as you could through your ceaseless embarrassment that he had caught you staring.

Once the drink was in your hands, he tossed you a wink.

You hobbled back toward Nami and Ikkaku who were already holding their own orders, sipping idly through their conversation.

“You look like you got spooked by a ghost or something!” giggled Ikkaku, squeezing your left cheek with her fingers.

“Ikka, that hot emo bartender gave her her daiquiri!” Nami replied for you, making the curly-haired girl gasp in excitement.

“Did he say anything?  Did you say anything?”  The questions rolled off of her tongue faster than your heart rate.

“He just winked at me, and smiled, I guess,” you stated through nervous breaths.  

Your best friends dragged you into the conversation that had developed in the short time you were away getting your drink, but when you tossed another glance over your shoulder, you once again locked with golden eyes that froze your feet to the ground.

—

You weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed over all, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour.  You and your friends finished your drinks, closed out your tab, and proceeded to the dance floor to burn off energy under the neon disco lights and pounding music.  You let your mind stray away from the bartender’s piercing glare while you moved your hips against Nami’s, the two of you poking fun at Ikkaku from afar as she found herself in an awkward dance with a random man who was far from her type (that is to say: not a woman).  The room was dipping slightly around you, the sweet pineapple daiquiri definitely making you tipsier than you wanted to be.  You didn’t have to pee at that moment, but you figured it would be worth a shot to sober you up even just slightly.  With a nudge against Nami’s shoulder, you pointed to the bathroom, mouthing your intentions, and waved to her as you walked toward the back of the room through the sea of happy, alcohol-fueled patrons.

The bathroom was situated behind the bar past a few rows of small booth tables, and the further you walked from the center of the lounge the more the music faded to a much more tolerable volume.  The walls remained lined with graffiti, which you trailed with your eyes as you walked, marveling at the tantalizing swirls of colors and personalized messages and names memorialized forever on the concrete.  You finally rounded the corner into the small corridor where the two single bathrooms were found, along with a single broom closet that was kept closed with a padlock.  Your feet blindly led you towards one of the bathroom doors that was cracked open.

“You know, those pants make your ass look phenomenal.”

A husky voice stopped you in your tracks.  A million thoughts rushed through your mind within an instant.  Who was talking to you?  Did you get followed to the bathroom?  Were you being watched?  Were you in danger?  Should you have brought your purse with you instead of leaving it with Nami?  Were you going to make a run for it?

Fighting against your flight, you turned around to face the voice that cut through the muffled music.

Intense, golden eyes, raven-black hair, and a sly, toothy smirk.

“Sorry if I scared you, I promise I didn’t follow you back here,” he added, his face morphing from a flirtatious, mischievous expression into a more apologetic one.  “I had to take a piss, too.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, really!” you replied, inwardly wincing at how your voice involuntarily quivered with excited anxiety.  The Hot Emo Bartender was standing in front of you.  Had he just complimented your ass?  “And, uhm, thank you!  For my ass.  I mean, for saying I look good.  Or, phenomenal, I think?”  You pinched your lips shut forcing yourself to cease your drunken rambling, but your reaction only made the man’s mouth curl into a grin as a laugh bubbled out of his throat.

“Go sober up in there, princess, then we’ll talk.  I’ll wait for you out here.”  The man ended his sentence by entering the second unoccupied bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

You quickly did the same.  The bathroom had the exact same aesthetic and lighting as the rest of the establishment, the mirror completely covered in graffiti and leaving little room to view your current appearance after you finished your business.  You gazed through the dried ink, fixing your hair with your fingers and pushing your boobs into place under your top, blowing an encouraging huff out of your mouth before washing your hands, drying them, and exiting the bathroom into the corridor once more.

The man had indeed waited for you, leaning nonchalantly against the wall with one leg up checking his phone.  He was tall, much taller than you, and his legs were long and skinny, complemented beautifully by his tight, bespeckled jeans.  The spots were definitely an odd aesthetic choice in your mind, but you couldn’t complain.  Somehow, they suited his vibe perfectly.  He picked his head up and looked you up and down, that charming, mischievous grin once again returning to his lips.

“Feel better?”

“Absolutely, I didn’t think you’d actually wait out here,” you confirmed.  Somehow, your voice had evened out from the anxious drunken stupor you sported before.  Maybe pissing out the alcohol did have its merits.

“Good, I wanted to talk to you but needed to see if you were too drunk first.  Those pineapple daiquiris are really something,” he explained.

You were very quickly gaining more comfort in his presence, isolated from the club beyond the corridor in the dim lighting that accentuated his cheekbones and gave him the sexiest aura you had ever seen.  You swallowed your pounding heart and returned his grin.

“Talk to me?  Out of everyone here?” you questioned, putting on your charm.

“I don’t just talk to any random bar patron,” he responded.  “In fact, I barely talk to anyone here at all.  But how could I pass up such an alluring face?”  He stepped across the corridor to you, reaching out a hand that smelled like the generic brand soap in the bathroom.  His callouses tickled the fine hairs of your cheek and chin.

“And ass?” you asked innocently, clearly enjoying the little game you two had initiated.

“And ass,” he repeated.  “Though…” his eyes trailed up and down your body from his closer angle, eating you up through your clothes.  “You’re definitely the most stunning girl I’ve ever seen, all around.”  His golden eyes met yours once more.  “You have beautiful eyes.”

He had done it now.  You were beyond flustered, convinced that your entire body was glowing red and steaming like a geyser from your anticipation and embarrassment at his tender compliments.  A part of you still wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t the type to talk up every woman at the bar, but Nami’s words from prior bounced through your skull.  You were drunk, you were hot, and damn it, your pants did make your ass look good!  You only live once, right?

With alcohol and adrenaline fueled courage you never experienced before, you closed the narrow gap between your bodies and pressed your lips against his, standing on your toes and grasping his shoulders to steady yourself.  The anxious voice in your head told you he was going to push you away, call you some horrible slur and leave you in the dust to regret every choice you made leading up to that moment.

You were very pleasantly surprised when his lanky arms looped around your waist, clutching you close to his sturdy form as he moved his lips against yours.  You weren’t an expert kisser by any means, but something about the way his mouth moved told you that he wasn’t actually used to doing this, more of a smooth-talker than a do-er.  He was reluctant to open his mouth to allocate for your tongue, instead simply pursing and unpursing his lips against yours.  The feeling made you pull away, failing to suppress the giggle that followed.

Before you had the chance to make any snide, lighthearted comment, however, a tattooed hand traveled down your arm and gripped your hand, dragging you toward the broom closet.  He fiddled with the padlock on the door without letting you go, shoving open the entrance with his shoulder and pulling you inside.  The door slammed behind you, now almost completely muffling the music blaring from within the club.  The two of you were now free from prying eyes that might wander into the corridor to use the bathroom, completely unaware of the actions taking place just one door away.

In the stark darkness of the closet, the man’s hands found the collar of your shirt and pulled it down as best as he could, encouraging you to slip your arms out and pull it over your head.  His lips pecked at your jaw, your chin, your neck, and the dip of your breast as you unhooked your bra and let it flop to the floor.  Your own hands grasped his ratty t-shirt and yanked it over his head, its loose fit making undressing his torso much easier.  Your fingers now had access to his bare skin, your breath hitching in your throat as you blindly felt around firm abdominal muscles that met a lean yet supple chest and broad shoulders.  Even through the lack of light you could tell just how attractive this man was.  A smattering of coarse hairs covered his chest and stomach, but for the most part he was well trimmed, save for the patch of hair that you felt at his naval.  You heard his breath catch in his throat as your fingers followed the dip of his pelvic bone and trailed along the belt of his jeans.

“Wait,” his airy voice muttered.  “I need to know your name.”

You laughed, divulging your information.  You felt his lips smile against the skin of your neck.

“I’m Law,” he added.

“Law…” you exhaled his name on your soft, aroused breath.  “Can you fuck me, Law?”

A low groan rumbled through Law’s throat as his hands now played at your own waistband.  “Anything for you, princess.”

[sku-nk]

I've been inspired Skunk. Do you lnow that TikTok trend where it's like "When they're all up on my girl in public but she thinks they're just being friendly" and it's that audio that's like COME HERE.

Can I request that.

Come Here.

Synopsis: Some guy's getting a little too close for comfort. Unfortunately for Sam, you're oblivious to it.

Warnings: Language, jealous Sam, Not really controlling but bossy Sam, Just funny shit

A/n: i got your other ask clarifying who u wanted :))

Nothing is ever simple. Never.

Actually, there are a few things that are simple. A lot even. Things that are exactly as they're supposed to be, things that never have any extra complications.

With you nothing is ever simple. there has to be at least billion things that actually prove themselves to be what they should be, yet anything regarding you just can't be one of those things.

Like shopping.

It was supposed to be a boring little shopping trip. It was supposed to be quick. Pick up some things you need around the house, stuff you've ran out of and stuff you've suddenly realized you need. Maybe convince Sam to take you to Victoria's Secret and leave a dent in her wallet.

Honestly, Sam would prefer that to what's going on instead. She'd prefer anything over this. Like sleeping in, or watching a movie, or maybe punching that dude who's got his hand on your back.

What's worse is that you don't even seem to realize what he's doing. You've clearly been standing there for a while now, speaking to some stupid guy with a stupid chain and an even stupider fake deep voice.

At first Sam didn't even know where you were, you'd just wandered off. She'd assumed you were going to get something else on the list. When she caught up to you, finding you at the other end of the baking isle, she wished she'd followed you.

"Just need to start looking right, you know?" This guy says, standing much too close for comfort. "Pull a ten, maybe."

You nod, smiling. "I'm sure you will, Ryan," you say politely.

Sam can see the way his eyes rake over you, the look on his face so clearly filled with want it's actually ridiculous you're oblivious to it. Then again, you always have been. That's how you were with her.

"Shit, if I was like you, I wouldn't need to do all this. But you're just mad pretty," Ryan says, laughing for whatever reason. You're smiling kindly but Sam's got what's probably the dirtiest of looks on her face.

"Oh, thank you," you smile. Sam rolls her eyes. This dude's not your friend.

"Y/n," she says, making her presence known. Your eyes widen and an even bigger smile graces your face, head whipping in the direction you heard the voice. Ryan looks too, though his face is more curious than anything.

"Sammy," you say, as Ryan's hand drops from your back. Sam feels herself let out a breath despite the fact that you're still a little too close to this guy.

"Come here," she says, arms crossing.

"Hold on, this is Ry-" you begin, pointing at the guy who's now a good two and a half feet away, though you don't get the chance to finish.

"Come here." Sam points at the ground in front of her.

You tilt your head, glancing between Ryan and Sam, but you don't protest. You make a face, something between confusion and annoyance. Sam doesn't notice, or else she doesn't care.

"Now," she says, something in her voice possessing an odd sort of finality. You let out an exaggerated sigh and glance at Ryan, who seems to be just as confused as you.

"Sorry, Ryan," you say as you speed up. For some reason, this causes Sam to sigh and roll her eyes again.

She's irritable all of a sudden, you think. She shoots the not so poor guy a look, a look that has him stepping back even further.

"Let's go," she says impatiently as her eyes land on you, urging you to hurry up. You give her a look of your own.

"Why'd you do that?" you ask, despite the fact that you're doing exactly as she's told you to, glancing back like that dude's actually stupid enough to still be standing there. Sam grabs your sleeve and pulls you little closer even though it really doesn't benefit her in the slightest (besides making her feel better) and leans onto the cart.

" 'Cause I did. When you're shopping, you're shopping with me," she tells you, tone suggesting that you doing otherwise is an insult or something alike. "Not some weird ass dude."

"Ryan's not weird-"

"He's weird!" Sam cuts in, throwing a hand up. "Weird and wants you. You're with me, you're shopping with me."

You almost laugh. It's funny. What is she even talking about? Ryan wants you? That guy you just met? Sam notices your little smile out of the corner of her eye and scoffs.

"It's funny 'till he wants a smooch," she says, dead serious.

That does it.

You can't hold it any longer. You burst into a fit of giggles, smacking Sam on the arm. "He was being nice, relax," you laugh, as Sam rolls her eyes for the millionth time.

"He doesn't need to, he's being a little too nice."

"It's not that deep, I promise!" you tell her, grin unwavering.

"It's always that deep! Everybody wants you! All the time! I do!" Sam shoots back, instinctively straightening up as you grab the cart, shaking your head and beginning to push it down the isle. She nearly pulls her hair out when you start fully laughing at her again.

"Made me forget what I was over here for," you say to yourself as Sam follows behind you, saying something about the elderly crossing guard across the street checking you out.

I dunno how to end this guys

"So you need to stay with me all the time!"

[dystopicjumpsuit]

It's not Sunday but I'm sharing my OC Draig anyway.

Charming, funny, and dodgy as hell, Draig has not paid for a drink in fifteen years. He’s the sort of person who will sit next to you in the Corrie drunk tank and laugh about how you ended up there while you wait for Mic to come bail you both out.

In his defense, it was a great story. Art by me 🩵

More info below the cut! Content warning for non-detailed violence and eye injury/loss.

Overview

Name: Draig Birth year/age: 51 BBY (32 at end of the Clone Wars) Species: Zabrak Pronouns: he/him Orientation: bi/pan Home planet: Oba Diah Current location: Coruscant Occupation: “acquisitions” contract specialist (AKA thief for hire); journeyman pain in the ass; professional menace to society and underpants across the galaxy Affiliation: Bounty Hunters’ Guild Alignment: chaotic neutral Family: Oisin (father); Epha (mother, deceased); Mic and Branna Dhorhil (family of the heart)

Physical characteristics

Height: 6’/182 cm without the horns, but he counts them, so he tells everyone 6’2”/188 cm. Mic considers this ridiculous. Eyes: brown, one cybernetic gray Hair: bald Skin: brown Tattoos/piercings/identifying marks: traditional Zabrak facial tattoos; various facial and ear piercings

Personal history: 

Oisin and Epha had given up on having children when Draig came along. Oisin was 48, Epha was 41, and they were ecstatic to finally have the child they had so desperately wanted. Draig was their only child, and they adored him. The family lived happily for fourteen years, until Epha suddenly passed away from a massive stroke just before Draig started secondary school. Oisin was devastated, and Draig, in addition to his own grief, felt the weight of the galaxy on his young shoulders as he watched his father spiral.

When Draig started secondary school a couple months later, he was targeted by an older bully. Small for his age, and still reeling from the loss of his mother, Draig seemed like an easy target—at least, until Mic Dhorhil intervened when nobody else would. Draig and Mic both got suspended. Draig was distraught: the thought of adding to his father’s stress when Oisin was already struggling so much seemed like the end of the world to the young Zabrak. Mic took him to his own home instead so they could try to figure things out.

Mic’s mom Branna was home from work, and she convinced Draig that everything would be all right. She patched up both of the boys, got them a snack, and then commed Oisin to explain things diplomatically. From that point on, Draig and Mic were inseparable. The boys were best friends, and Draig imprinted like a baby duck on Branna as she stepped up to help him and Oisin through the loss of Epha. 

The two families became so close that they stopped considering themselves separate families at all, which was why, when Oisin fell ill, Mic didn’t hesitate to go along with Draig’s plan to steal the medication he needed from the Pyke syndicate. Their plan was a simple smash and grab, and somehow, they made it out alive—barely. Draig’s adrenaline rush from his first heist had barely faded when the bounty hunter showed up at the Dhorhils’ house.

Mic, Draig, and Branna fought back fiercely, but the hunter managed to slash Draig across the face before Branna killed the man with his own vibroblade. There was nothing to be done to save Draig’s eye. They didn’t even have time to apply bacta until they were already aboard the shuttle Branna stole from the Oba Diah City spaceport, in hyperspace on the way to Coruscant. 

The family disappeared into the Coruscant underworld until Branna was able to smooth things over with the Pykes. Oisin, having made a full recovery, opened a mechanic shop in the lower levels, while Mic started working in bars and restaurants and Branna took a position with Coruscant Public Transit. Draig, on the other hand, didn’t find the transition to Coruscant easy or straightforward, and he drifted into rougher crowds. 

Having gotten a taste for adrenaline during the Pyke heist, he started to engage in petty theft, which he rationalized as helping out while finances were tight. Before long, he discovered that he didn’t just like the challenge and the rush of stealing: he was good at it. Really good. He started honing his skills, seeking out larger, more valuable, and more difficult targets, until one day, almost without realizing it, he had become one of the best thieves in the business. Unsurprisingly, this put a target on his back—not only from the Coruscant Security Force, but also from other thieves looking to make a name for themselves.

Out of self-preservation, Draig decided to join the Bounty Hunters’ Guild, where he offered his services to anyone who could pay. He specialized in what the Guild diplomatically called “acquisitions,” but the truth was that he would do just about anything for the right price.

Anything except turn on his family.

Personality:

Charming and irresponsible irresistible. There’s not much in life that Draig takes seriously. He’s laid-back and easy-going to a fault, except when it comes to his work. He’s happy to go with the flow and let other people take the lead—especially Mic. His adrenaline-junkie tendencies cause him to sometimes take unnecessary risks, though he would never intentionally put someone else in danger.

He is uncompromisingly loyal to an incredibly small circle of people. If you are in that circle, he’ll do anything for you, no questions asked, regardless of the legal, ethical, or moral implications. Outside that circle, though, he doesn’t get attached. He’s friendly and approachable, but he’s one of those people who you realize after you’ve talked to him for weeks that he’s never shared anything about himself beyond the most superficial details. You were just distracted by how much he made you laugh and how much fun you had together to realize that he never let you get close to him.

In relationships, this manifests in a string of short-term flings where both/all parties agree to part ways cordially within a few weeks at maximum. He generally goes into a relationship with the understanding and expectation that it will stay casual and light, and he’s up front with his partners about that. Despite that, there have been times when things have gotten complicated and messy, which is why he now refuses to allow anyone outside his family to know where he lives.

Draig completely lacks Mic’s intensity, which is ironic, given that of the two, Draig is far more likely to break someone’s heart. Again, he’d never do it on purpose, but it’s a little too easy to fall for him when he has made a career of not falling. Ever. Which is why it’s the end of the kriffing galaxy the first time he catches feelings.

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49

@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist

@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal

@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose

@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr

@dangraccoon @transactivecybermemory @etod

[gatheringbones]

[“G: Why did you get pregnant?

M: To prove to myself that I was a woman.

G: And then how did you feel about it?

M: I had been doing a lot of self-destructive things since I was thirteen - I dove into heterosexuality and I did it angrily and was contemptuous of any man I ever fucked. I somehow thought that fucking them would get back at them for everything, and somehow I thought that debasing myself would do something. So I got pregnant, which was very heavy 'cause at the time I thought I wanted to have kids. I really believed that there was a living person in me - my whole body was freaking out. They say you can't feel it, but I felt that energy, and I knew there was something alive in me - even if it was not more than a lump of cells, I thought it was still something alive - it was something that I was going to stop from being alive, but I figured I would rather do that. First of all I knew if I had a boy I'd drown it, and even if it was a girl I knew it had 23 genes I hated - and I didn't know who had made me pregnant. All of my hostility came to the surface - I was blind with fury and it all came out. I couldn't sit in the same room with one without wanting to murder him, literally. I couldn't listen to male music, I couldn't read male poetry. Lots of great male artists who had always been a great comfort to me I just couldn't... no male... I couldn't deal with any male, I hated them. After I calmed down about that it became very clear to me that I loved women, and I always had loved women, and that I had never had good relationships with men. I had always had good relationships with women. I had never been attracted to men, I had always been attracted to women, and I realized that I was just going to have to get used to the fact that I was a lesbian.

G: You had an abortion then?

M: Yes. I had two abortions... that was the first one. I dropped out of school and plunged right into feminism. It was obvious to me even at the time that the main reason I was there was because I wanted to come out. I wanted to come out so bad - I just wanted to do it and get it over with, you know, and just be comfortable in my identity as a lesbian. I had been avoiding the women's movement for years because I didn't want people to think that I was the old dyke who couldn't get a man. I wasn't able to become a feminist until I realized that I didn't give a shit if I was an ugly old dyke who couldn't get a man. I didn't want a man anyway. So I became active in the women's movement, and I met lesbians for the first time in my life. It was scary because even though I knew I was one I had never met a real one.

G: Were you saying you were a lesbian at that time?

M: Oh yeah, I had been saying that I was a lesbian for years before that. I can remember saying to a friend a couple of years before, when I was fucking all these men, "You know, I'll bet I'm a lesbian, because people with case histories like mine always turn out... if I didn't know me and I heard my case history I would be convinced that was a lesbian." And she said, "Oh, don't worry, you're not a lesbian." She tried to reassure me, but I knew. I just didn't want to deal with it; it was scary being a lesbian. Particularly since being a woman was so important in my family. So I became involved in the women's movement full-time. Then I needed money - so I got a job as a waitress. I was working nights and sleeping during the day and I didn't have any time for the women's movement. The only people I was hanging out with were the people I worked with. All of a sudden, since I didn't give a shit about men, I was really attractive to them. I'd never been attractive to them before, but all of a sudden I was fascinating - I guess every man want to fuck a dyke, you know, to prove they're a real man. So they started following me home. I was horny and I didn't have any lesbians knocking at my door, and I knew how to manipulate men, so I figured fuck it, I'll give them one more chance - so I started fucking a couple of guys. I told them, "Look, I hate men. I'm  a lesbian, I haven't come out yet, but I promise you I'm a lesbian." So I fucked them. And at that time I had an IUD which I had gotten after my first abortion, which they had promised me would be very effective. I got pregnant again, six months after my first abortion. My second abortion was really nice. I went to a really nice clinic and it was very clear to me, never again, never again. It's over. There was a really nice woman who was my counselor and I was awake for the abortion. She was holding my hand and while the fetus was being taken out of my body I was holding her hand saying to her, "Never again," and she said, "Oh, you're going to come out?" I said, "Oh, yes," and she said, "Far out," and she called across the room to another woman who was a counselor, and said, "Hey, this woman's coming out." It was so nice, so supportive, she's holding my hand, a woman, and I was telling her that I was a lesbian. She was telling me that that was great, and they were taking that goddamn thing out of my uterus. It was almost worth being pregnant, it was such a nice abortion. I was so into her that I didn't feel any pain, it was annoying, but all of a sudden it was over. It was really nice.”]

The New Lesbians, edited by Laurel Galana and Gina Covina, moon books, 1977

[inkbats-writing]

Bruce expected the request for a meeting. Counted on it even. If he wanted to figure out how Masters was convincing other ceos to sign over their companies without even due compensation Bruce would need to put himself in the line of fire. With protections in place of course, couldn't actually risk his employees by losing his company, but ones subtle enough whatever game Masters is playing would miss seeing them.

What Bruce wasn't expecting was almost as soon as the meeting was scheduled Masters would cancel it.

Masters' assistant was apologetic when he called back for a reason. Stammering and rambling about how she didn't mean to make the appointment with him it was some other ceo she was meant to call, but for whatever reason she mistakenly called his office instead. And could he please not mention this to Mr. Masters because she's still new and it might get her fired and-leading to him ending the calling promising it would be their little secret.

He wouldn't let it go obviously, still suspicious of the man who left his self imposed isolation to move to Gotham to repeat what Bruce's sources say was how he made money at the start. But he would find another method to figure out what was going on. Even if the meeting would have been perfect for it.

And then another meeting is requested a week later. Only to once again be canceled minutes later. Over and over again this repeats for a month with the assistant getting more upset with each return call swearing she doesn't know why she's called him when she knows Mr. Masters isn't trying to schedule a meeting with him.

Leading him to break into the man's office late at night to see if it could shed some light on what the other man is up to. Or at least that was the plan, up until Bruce's started hearing Masters voice come from the hallway and he has to hide on the edge of the balcony just outside the office. He makes it just in time if the sudden silence of Masters wheelchair rolling onto the office rug is anything to go by.

"Would you stop trying to get me a meeting with Bruce Wayne? If Rozina realizes she's made yet another meeting appointment without remembering why she's going to start crying and I don't want to deal with it." Masters voice is his usual annoyed arrogance as he speaks to whoever followed him into his office.

"My dear Vladimir....Wayne Enterprises would make such a fine addition to DalvCo...I'm merely thinking of your beneifit." The other's voice is smooth if slightly lisped but the condensation carries over regardless.

"And I told you no, pick someone else."

"The wealth you'd gain-"

"We had an agreement-"

"And I've following it as you wished-"

"You're not actually because if you were-"

"So just allow the meeting and I'll ensure he agrees to-"

"No! I told you I would only agree if-" a sudden coughing fit interrupts whatever Masters was trying to say as he clearly has an attack of some sort.

"My dear-" The other briefly starts only for the sound of an inhaler to interrupt him.

"Bad men...men as terrible if not worse than me...that's what we agreed....Bruce Wayne is a good man....I-I will not...I will be responsible for a g-good man...."

Masters trails off into another coughing fit interrupted only by the inhalers use and this time the other stays silent. Only when the fit has clearly passed and Masters troubled but steady breathing is back does the other speak again.

"As you wish my dear..."

[tallymonster]

Memories of Us Chapter 19

Nothingness, but shining.

AO3 || Masterlist

A/N: sooo im being a little ambitious and adding a whole other subplot now lol. Let's see where this whole thing goes lolololol

Thanks as always to @cheesy-cryptid for blessing this story that came from me seeing their art ❤️

Also wanna thank my besties @micropoe10 @mj-bites and @tragedybunny for letting me pick their brains, for soothing me when the insecurities crop up, and for adding their flavor to my brain soup. I love you guys so much.

Tags: @justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus

@davenswitcher @wayward-hel

@hereliesblackdragon @misscrissfemmefatale

(lemme know if you wanna be added!)

Octavia easily slid back into her role at work after coming back from Wyvern Hills; it had been difficult to concentrate lately with everything that she had come to learn. She sat at her desk, drifting in and out of the current conversation.

The black ink from Octavia’s pen danced around the piece of paper in front of her, mindlessly circling the notes Gale had given her.

It had been about a week that she had been back, and it was difficult to take herself out of the turmoil brewing inside her. On one hand, she started to know Astarion as a sweet man, reserved and private, but kind; and on the other, her eyes were opened to some of the struggles he had gone through. She couldn't imagine the horrors he endured, the loneliness he brought into himself, and the things that brought him to where he is now.

He was a mystery she hoped to uncover on her own terms, but whether or not he would let her in was a different situation altogether. She blankly stared at the ink spot on the page that grew with each pass of her hand.

“Octavia?...hellooo???? OCTAVIA!” Gale’s voice cut through her empty thoughts.

Octavia snaps out of her mind, immediately reminded that she's at work right now, and Gale doesn't look too pleased with her at this moment. “Did you hear anything I just said? Look, this is important, and I need you to pay attention. Now, as I was saying…”

Gale’s voice trails off as Octavia loses herself in her thoughts yet again. She tried to get a hold of herself, but with the heaviness of the information swirling in her head, it was beginning to get harder and harder to keep everything to herself.

“Anyway, my sister is getting married and she wants to have her entire wedding HERE! I don't think I can convince Astarion to do that, he's too precious about the museum. It's his raison d’etre, you know? It would be like asking him to trust us with his first born child.”

Gale drops his head to his desk, his fingers intertwined in his hair in a frustrated grip. “My sister Athena is not the kind to take no for an answer, and I know her and her fiance” Gale spits out the word with seething disdain, “are going to make my life a bigger nightmare than they already have! Could you help me talk to him? He’ll listen to you more than anyone else, and he's been a HUGE pain since you’ve been away, please Octavia? I'm begging you!”

Gale lifted up his head, his brows furrowed in a worried way, his eyes were heavy and tired, and his lip was in a little pout. Octavia stared at him with a puzzled look, she quietly asks “He has? Wait a minute, you have a sister? Does Astarion know her too?”

Gale sits up with a quick movement, he rolls his eyes and he frowns deeply. “YES! He’s been so insufferable, it's as if everything I suggest is poison in his ears.” He pouts and slumps back down in his chair, “And no, I didn't think it was a good idea to introduce them before talking to him. Shes…uh..well..” he hesitates, his eyes nervously glanced left and right, he brings his hands together and fidgets with his fingers.

“Gale, she can't be that bad right?” Octavia says calmly. Gale stares at her, the lines on his forehead sinking deeper. “Right?” she asks again. Gale’s frown grows as he swallows, “Well, she's not not an asshole…..” Octavia grimaces, “Oh no, they're going to rip each other apart aren't they?”

Gale groans loudly, placing his head back on his desk. “The worst part is, she's marrying my academy rival, Sirilus Szerban Amarzian.” his voice was full of irritation. “You know he always says it like that too, all smugly and condescending. Of course she had to marry him, we both come from wizarding families so they had to keep it traditional or whatever. He's Rolan’s grandson. You know, Rolan, Master of Razamith’s Tower? Let's just say our grandfathers were not too fond of each other. ”

“Oh yeah?” Octavia tried to hide her intrigue, but when Gale glared back up at her, she had a feeling she failed.

“Yes, Octavia. It's an old family misunderstanding over my grandfather stealing The Annals of Karsus from the vault underneath the tower. Also, allegedly something else about Gale suggesting a fix to Roland when a flashing lights cantrip wasn't working the way Rolan wanted at a party the tieflings had thrown. Gale was apparently already somewhat drunk and went up to Rolan and said something like ‘You call that a cantrip? Step aside and let a chosen of Mystra show you how it's done!’ but I call bullshit!”

Gale bristled a bit and continued, “I'm pretty sure it was when Tav and Gale helped save some people who got captured in Moonrise Towers and it just so happened that Rolan’s siblings were part of that crew. Rolan said some pretty mean things to Tav and Gale stepped in to calm things down, Rolan said something like ‘Oh and Mystra’s ex boy toy finally speaks!’ and well, Gale took that personally of course. I mean who wouldn't?”

“Uh huh…and how does that concern you and Sirilius? I mean they were old men when the two of you were in school.” Octavia responds, she knows she may be opening a floodgate, but she was glad to have something to take her mind off her own family drama.

Gale takes a deep breath, he holds it in for a couple of seconds before exhaling out slowly. “Sirilius and I used to be really good friends, I would even say we were best friends, or at least I thought we were. He and I knew about the stupid fight our ancestors had and still got along so well. Until we had a disagreement about something, I don't even remember what, but what I will never forget what he said to me. ‘Maybe Rolan was right about you, you're just as much of an arrogant know it all prick like your grandfather was.’”

He sighs, “That was the last time I had spoken to him… Athena knew how hurt I was about the whole thing, I mean we were friends until the last couple of years in our studies. That's when he got extremely competitive against me, vowed to prove that he came from stronger magics than I. Even though he knew I wanted to go into artifact preservation, he wanted to make me know that I was beneath him.” Gale frowns, his body drops and his shoulders slump down.

“All I ever wanted was a friend who understood the uniqueness of being from a well known lineage. To have that kind of comradery with someone who has a similar experience. It wasn't until I met you that I got that, Octavia. So you see, it felt like a kind of betrayal from my sister, picking him and our familial expectations over me. I know she didn't, obviously, but it felt like it.” Gale placed his hands on his face, Octavia rolled her chair over to his side of their desks and gave him a hug.

She could feel Gale’s body tense up, slowly recover, and return the hug. “It's okay, Gale. I will gladly help you. It's the least I can do for you.” Octavia patted Gale’s back, a small sigh followed by him pulling away from her, she could see the wave of relief flood over him. “Thank you. I owe you. Uh…I was actually going to go speak to Astarion after the museum closed, do you mind staying back so we could meet with him together?”

Octavia blinks in shock, she didn't feel quite ready to go speak to Astarion, but with Gale in tow he would have to be professional and subdued. She nods to Gale, who smiled wide in return. “Okay, I have to prepare for it. I have to get hold of Athena so she can send me her pictures and inspiration board, food, flowers…”

Gale turns to his desk and scribbles something onto a piece of paper. Then, he walks up to the window and opens it, he speaks some words and moves his hands around, conjuring up a white and gray spotted bird. He ties the little note to its leg along with a small pouch he ties around its body.

“Okay, Ellie, can you bring this to Athena and come back to me before the end of operating hours? I left very specific instructions for her, so if she tries to have you come back with a ton of stuff, don't let her unless she reduces it and puts it in the little pouch. Be good with Archie, alright? Safe flight, kid.”

Ellie takes off as Gale waves them away, he turns around and laughs as he notices Octavia’s wide eyed stare. “You can make a bird? And it listens to you? That's pretty cool!” she exclaims. Gale smiles with a proud beam, he nods and closes the window halfway.

“Yeah! Ellie is a sea osprey, they're captivating and quite abundant in Waterdeep! Athena and I both had familiars we conjured as children. Ellie’s mine and Athena had Archie, who is a fish owl. We would send Ellie and Archie out to hunt when we would practice our spells. I couldn't bring her around my grandfather's tower because of Tara, they never got along.”

Gale hugs Octavia one more time before walking up to the door of their office. “Thank you again, I need to take a walk and gather my thoughts for a bit before Athena responds. I’ll see you in a few hours?”

Octavia nods, “Yeah, good idea, I might go on a little break too. Lots of stuff to think about, you know?”

Gale perks up, “Oh! Do you want to join me? Maybe we can think of some ideas?”

Octavia hesitates a little before shaking her head “No thank you. I wanted to get some time to walk the halls again, I missed being here while I was in Wyvern Hills. See you later?”

“Yeah, have a nice walk in the halls.” Gale says as he slips out of the room, leaving Octavia alone in silence. She slides into her chair and stares at the ceiling. How would she be able to face Astarion and convince him that a wedding is a good idea to have in the museum??

Octavia closes her eyes and puts herself in Tav’s shoes. How was she able to not only deal with all the enemies coming her way, but now Octavia knows she also had to deal with Astarion as well.

Maybe she’d take that walk after all.

-------------------

Octavia rounded the hallway with various statues.

She stops at the gallery full of beautifully carved marble. The lines of their forms were distracting her, reminding her of the night she and Astarion shared a couple of months ago.

His hands run up her stomach, the rough edges of his nails scrape along the peaks and valleys of her body. His own taught muscles glint with the glow of the firelight softly illuminating them as he dips his head between her legs. She gasps as she feels his other hand lower itself slowly between the slick of her core.

She felt herself flush, her body reacting with a low drop of her belly. Octavia gasps with a sharp inhale, and begins to walk a bit more briskly past the gallery towards the end of the hall.

You gotta get a hold of yourself, not only are you working, but Gale needs you to be there for him.

Octavia briskly walks up to the next gallery with the painting of Astarion. She takes a moment, standing in front of the opening leading to it. Her legs suddenly feel like they have a mind of their own, making her approach slowly towards its direction.

She takes a seat on the bench that is placed in front of it, and looks up at the wall. His sad eyes look down at her and she wonders how she kept telling herself that it wasn't him when it so clearly was. “How could I not see it?” She whispers to herself, eyes firmly stuck to his painted visage.

Octavia sat there, wondering what Astarion had gone through for all those years, how Tav must have felt when he left, so many memories forgotten and lost after she went through with the Unburdening. If Tav hadn't gone through with it, would Octavia even be here right now?

She leans back, feeling the cool stone of the bench underneath her. Octavia closes her eyes and lingers in the dull hushed murmurs of the museum. In her mind, she conjures up images of what she had read in the old, tattered journal.

Tav wrote about walking hand in hand with someone after fighting a spectator in the Underdark. She mentioned how fanciful their footwork was, how they shimmered like the star they were, obviously, Octavia knows now that Tav was speaking of Astarion. Octavia wishes she could see him like that. Covered in blood and grime but so beautiful.

“Having a rough day, my dear?”

Octavia’s eyes shoot open, she turns and faces the silky voice that came from behind her. “Astarion..hello..sorry I hadn't returned your notes when I came back. I’ve been, uh, catching up with a lot of things…Gale left me a lot of stuff..I should probably get back to it, actually.” She begins to stand, but he stops her, taking a seat next to her.

Astarion instinctively takes Octavia’s hand, kissing it before asking, “Wait, I'm sure you can take a bit of a break to catch up,right? How was your trip? I missed you terribly, you know.” he looked down at her with those gemlike eyes, voice softened to a low murmur. She couldn't help the way it made her knees weak and her heartbeat a little faster.

Octavia gasps softly, then clears her throat. She feels Astarion’s fingers intertwined in hers, the coolness of his touch a welcome contrast to her heated skin. “Darling? Are you okay?” Astarion leans in, whispering his inquiry to not draw attention towards them.

“Yeah, I'm okay. Just thinking about things. I…uh…” Octavia hesitates for a moment, before deciding to continue on, “ I found a lot of my mom's personal stuff at my dad’s and there were some things in there that kind of shifted my reality about my family. A lot of things have changed for me, and I’m having trouble coming to terms with it all.”

Astarion scoots closer to her, pressing his shoulder against hers. His whole demeanor shifted to that of a giddy schoolgirl, “Oooh family drama? Sounds delightful! Anything interesting?” He glanced up at Octavia, who returns a mildly annoyed look. Astarion pulls back some, defensively sitting up straight. “From the sudden cloud of darkness cast over us, I would assume not. Do you want to talk about it? Or is this one of those instances where it would be best to forget?”

Octavia couldn't help the nervous laugh that came out of her mouth, she quickly turns away from Astarion, unlacing their hands and hides behind her hair. “Sorry, I..” she trips over her words, unsure of what she should say “I mean..I guess you could say that…part of me wants to keep digging into it all, find out more about why things happened in the past the way they did, but on the other hand…”

She trails off, her hands on her lap, looking at the painting again.

“It’s like that painting, I know I could spend my time figuring out who that is, but what would be the benefit at this point? They're either dead or don't want to be found. I feel like I should leave well enough alone. Maybe some things aren't meant to be uncovered. ‘Not every mystery needs to be solved’, as Gale repeated from you once. Good advice, I should follow it.”

Octavia keeps her eyes on the wall, fingers twitching, unsure of what to tell him. She wants nothing more than to be open and honest with him, but how could she? 

“We aren't talking about Gale, Octavia.” Astarion replies. He reaches back out and grabs her hands, steadying them. “You can trust me, but I understand if you don't want to or aren't yet ready to talk about this. Some things take time to come to terms with before you can fully talk about it.” Astarion stands and holds a hand out for Octavia, she takes it and stands beside him. 

“Gale asked to speak with me after hours tonight, would you like to go to dinner with me afterwards? Call it an impromptu outing? Although that does mean you'd have to hang back a bit, I understand if you say no, it was a bit last minute.” Astarion seemed a little nervous himself, as he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. It was as if he was trying to comfort her as he comforted himself.

Octavia gives a small mischievous smile, “Well…” she teased, “I did have a pressing matter to attend to after work. Maybe I could fit you in afterwards, I'm a very busy woman, you know.” 

Astarion’s eyebrows raise and he chuckles warmly, “Oh do forgive me, I had no idea I was in the presence of high importance.” He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close, “Can’t you spare some of your time for me?” with his other hand he cups her cheek, kissing her softly before pulling back. “I missed you. Terribly so.” 

Octavia giggles and sighs, she can't help the spell he has crafted into her heart. Her inner thoughts are in a torment, was this genuine or was it part of a centuries long practice? As much as she was scared to confront him, she couldn't deny that she missed him as well.

"I missed you too,” she confessed, turning her head away in bashfulness like a youth with a schoolyard crush. 

“Will you wait for me then? I don't think it will be too long, unless he's going to explain something to me, then we could be here all night.” Astarion chuckles, lifting her free hand to give it a quick kiss. 

Octavia rolls her eyes playfully and pulls away from him. “Okay, I can't keep it up. I know what he wants to talk to you about, and I swear it's not bad. If anything, I think it's a great idea.” 

Astarion’s head quirks back, a curious sound hummed from his throat. “Really? You and Gale agreeing on something again? This should be good.” He crosses his arms and smirks, “Go ahead, fill me in on this idea of his.” 

Octavia smiles, this is Gale’s idea so he should be the one to stake his claim. “No.” she sweetly states, backing away slowly, “You can wait a little while longer." She turns and walks toward her office, leaving Astarion in front of himself. 

----------------------------

“Alright, Gale. Just remember what we went over, stick to the main points. This is a good PR move, Athena and Sirilius are big names in the wizarding community so that comes with good patronage, people from all over Faerun will see it, the press will love it…all of that. If you need me to cut in, just say so.” Octavia hands Gale the folder he prepared to show Astarion his sister's notes. 

“I’ll be fine, Octavia. I’ve done these kinds of project proposals many times before, Astarion may look intimidating, but he's not. As long as I explain things succinctly, he’ll absolutely agree.” Gale puffs out his chest as he knocks on Astarion’s office door. 

They hear Astarion’s response and Gale opens the door. 

“Alright, Gale, what are you two planning that was so important that I meet with you after hours?” he asks from behind his massive wooden desk. 

Gale and Octavia sit down across from him, Gale places the folder on top of the desk and shakily opens it. He clears his throat and begins to speak.

“As our busy season comes to an end, the amount of patrons we're expected to have is going to dip significantly. I was thinking about ways we could have some sort of capital to keep the museum in the black until the next fundraiser.” Gale wavered a bit, before continuing on. 

“I was talking to my older sister Athena, and she's getting married-” 

“No.” Astarion cuts Gale off immediately. “Gale, I will not have my museum with very delicate and priceless items be put in harm's way just so your sister can have a party and brag about it.” He waves a hand and looks over to Octavia. “And you! You knew about this? Why didn't you say something earlier?” 

Octavia frowns, she couldn't believe the audacity of Astarion to disregard Gale so quickly. “Excuse me? This is a wonderful idea! If you didn't know, Gale’s sister is marrying into a prestigious wizarding family. They're loaded, and that means all their guests will be as well. This could be a huge opportunity for us to not only do this massive favor for Gale, but to raise the reputation and the possibility of potential donors for the museum! Think about it, Astarion. Think of the money.”  

Astarion folds his arms, leaning back into his chair. “Octavia, do you really think-” 

“No, you don't get to cut Gale off, shoot him down, and then think you can do the same to me. Hear him out, it's a good idea. I won't let you deny him this one favor. Not when he's done so much for the museum. This place wouldn't run half as smoothly as it doesn't if it wasn't for Gale. I’ll help and so will you, don't think you're getting out of this just because you're the boss.” Octavia passionately argues. She wants to help Gale and nothing, not even a patronizing vampire, can get in her way. 

Astarion sighs, “Fine, go on, Gale. Convince me it's not a giant mistake.” 

Gale looks between Astarion and Octavia, he stutters a bit before resuming, “Uh..Athena and Sirilius, her fiance and my..ahem..former friend, were wanting to get married and have their reception here.” He passed Astarion the folder, it was full of pictures, fabric samples, ideas, and countless notes about his sister's preferences and wants. 

Astarion’s forehead wrinkled as he went through the massive file, his face changed in expression as he flipped through it. 

“Your sister has questionable style, Gale. These dresses look like a bard that took up dressmaking and kept adding bells to everything. Gods, some of these are gaudy as hell.” Astarion remarks, eliciting a quiet giggle from Octavia and an irritated protest from Gale. 

“I will have you know, that her style is very much the same as every other woman in my family. Waterdhavian culture is a little more showy than some others in Faerun..my own mother had a cathedral style wedding veil that was covered in black pearls that were sourced from the seas of Waterdeep. We show our pride in our family by having heirlooms pinned to our clothing and having family help us prepare for the wedding. That's why Athena is asking me to do this, why it means so much to me, Astarion, please allow this. I’ll work seven days a week even though the museum is only open six. I’ll do your laundry. I’ll get you one of Grandfather Gale’s spell books from his time adventuring, whatever you want!” Gale was almost begging, he spoke quickly and desperately. 

Astarion could feel the love and obligation coming from Gale’s pleas. He may not like the request, but Gale is one of his most trusted friends. Besides, Gale doesn't ask for much. In the 8 years he's worked with Astarion, Gale has only taken a break once much to Astarion’s chagrin.

Astarion sighs and relents, “Fine.”

Gale’s jaw drops and Octavia’s eyes grow wide, both of them reply “What?!”

“Astarion, are you serious??” Gale breathes out, his eyes show the shock and relief build and crash, the tears begin to form behind them. “I can't believe this. I…I don't know what to say.”

“Start with thank you.” Octavia squeezes his shoulder, in a supportive and comforting touch.

“Yes, of course…thank you, Astarion. I'm so relieved that I can tell Athena that you approved of this! She's going to be so excited!” Gale was practically bouncing in his seat. Octavia and Astarion laughed at his giddiness. Gale inhaled sharply and laughed embarrassingly.

“Sorry, I’ve been worried about this for a minute. Thanks again, Astarion. Oh, and to you as well Octavia. Thank you for having my back.” He smiles, grabbing her hand, giving it an affirmative squeeze. He turns to Astarion and grabs the folder, but before he can pull it away, Astarion grabs his hand, staring him down.

“Hold on Gale. I have some conditions of my own. Go ahead and take your seat, please.” Astarion lets go of Gale’s hand and motions for him to take his seat.

Gale and Octavia shoot each other worried looks and then look back at Astarion. Who has his hands pressed together in front of his face. His eyes shift between Gale and Octavia, before he closes them and takes a sharp inhale.

“Condition one: I want to meet the couple. I need to know who they are, and why they insist on having their entire event here. We shall have dinner at the restaurant we had our last meeting, Gale. Let me know what date works for them.

Condition two: I want to join you and work on this together. Three people would be suitable for this type of event and while I trust the both of you, I feel like this will make things even and less stressful.

Condition three: I want to attend the wedding if I'm putting all this work into it. It's not fair that I'm letting you all use what I consider my home for a little party and not expect me to attend.

Condition four: I get final approval on what they wish to-”

“Absolutely not. You get to consult, but you don't have final say. Athena and Sirilius do. You are not the one getting married, Astarion.” Octavia sternly cuts him off, waving an angry finger in front of his face.

Astarion sulks, he didn't like giving up control, and this was going to be the ultimate test of that. He grumbles and lets out a low growl from the back of his throat. “Fine. But no one goes into the offices, basement, archives or galleries with delicate items or statues. No drinks near the paintings. Food outside ONLY.”

“Fine, you can put up ANY AND ALL safeguards to prevent people from going into places you don't want, Gale and I can assist you with that.” Octavia states firmly. She has had it with Astarion’s aggressive negotiations, if his plan was to barrel over Gale and pull some demeaning power play, he definitely underestimated Octavia’s tenacity.

The air between them felt heavy and electrified with Astarion and Octavia’s back and forth. “If I may cut in?” Gale’s soft voice called out from between the two.

Astarion and Octavia turn to Gale, both of their faces flushed and visibly irritated. “Go ahead, Gale, let's just finish this for tonight.” Astarion huffs, arms crossed defensively.

“My sister did write a note to me in the folder. May I read it to you both? I think this might ” Gale asks, unfolding a small piece of paper.

Astarion nods, motioning Gale to continue. Gale smiles and reads aloud.

“Hello little brother!!

I'm so excited that you actually want to help! Siri and I were just talking about how much we were hoping that you could assist us with this whole venue situation. To be honest with you, I can't think of a more perfect place for us to get married. Not only did Siri and I have our first real date there, but the gardens dedicated to the heroes would be the most fitting place for he and I to recite our vows. Right in front of Grandfather, as if he were giving us his blessing and favor for our new lives together. Write back as soon as you're done with your meeting. I’ve sent Archie along with Ellie, so you have no excuses.

Toodles, little bro!”

Gale folds the note and looks up, smiling with a giant grin. “She's going to be incredibly grateful for this, Astarion. You won't regret it. Now, if you two will excuse me, I have a very anxious bride to be to write back to. I will let you both know when she and Sirilius can meet up.” He gathers the folder once more, quickly exiting and leaving Astarion and Octavia alone.

The silence is awkward, they both stay in their seats not looking in each other's direction. Finally, Astarion is the one to break the moment.

“Well, if I say no now, I'll look like a heartless bastard won't I?” He produced a low groan as he laid back in his chair, draping his arms on either side of the armrests.

“Gale has been by your side for almost a decade. He’s given up so much of himself for this place. What he's asking for is not that much in comparison to what he's done for you and the museum.” Octavia flatly replies.

“Are you upset with me?” Astarion asks, his voice a mix of worry and slight annoyance, “Is it because I didn't say yes right away?”

Octavia stiffened a bit and looked away from Astarion, she fought every instinct to interrogate him about what she knew. She settles on a reasonable lie. Shaking her head, she begins to speak in a terse tone. “I can't believe you would question Gale, as if he wouldn't treat this place with the utmost respect?” she folds her arms and turns away from him.

Astarion frowns and gets up from his seat behind the desk. He walks over to Octavia’s side, and sits on the edge of the desk. This position was very reminiscent of their last argument. Octavia’s heart flutters a bit with anxiety, her knees buckle a bit with anticipation.

Astarion leans on the desk, placing his hands at his sides. He gazes down at Octavia with a softened look. “You’re right, but you have to understand. I’m not a terrible person. No matter what my standoffish attitude might tell you. I’m very protective of this place, it’s my home after all, so I hope that you understand if I get defensive.”

Octavia sighs. She couldn't mask her disappointment, but she understood. She quietly asks, “Can we raincheck the dinner tonight? I'm a bit tired from coming back after being away, I think I’d rather go home and turn in.” She turns her head down and looks away.

Astarion places his left hand on her chin and guides her head back. “Has something changed?” Octavia’s eyes meet his, he looks worried. She shifts a little in the chair. “No. Everything is fine.” Octavia replies with a small smile.

Astarion releases his hand from her chin, brings it down to her hand, pulling it close to his lips, and kisses it. “Glad to hear it. You had me worried, dear. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

Octavia bit her lip. I bet you said that to her too.