#and then the power steering cut out!

[cappurrccino]

you'd think eventually I would run out of new car problems to have, but there is, unfortunately, always some new way a car can try to break

[legionofpotatoes]

there is really nothing funnier than amazon looking at properties to adapt into profitable tv shows and stopping at lord of the rings and fucking fallout

[gatheringbones]

[“It was only after I came out as a dyke that, for the first time in my life, I felt ready to celebrate being a girl, and I did. Actually, I overdid. Armed with Esther Newton’s Mother Camp, Judith Butler’s Gender Trouble, and Joan Nestle’s A Restricted Country, I embraced femme. I dressed up in short flowery dresses, pushup bras, satin panties, and lacy stockings. I paid great attention to my long, curly, perfectly-coiffed hair, my glamorous makeup, and especially my pouty lips. I spritzed Lola’s smell on my skin—Estee Lauder’s Private Collection—and painted my nails. I wore all of it with black combat boots and a brilliant sense of irony. I reveled in my girliness, went over the top, learned how to tweeze my eyebrows and line my lips with a lip pencil.

My gender presentation was unmistakable: blatant female sexuality. I was a proud, in-your-face, take-no-prisoners, uppity, don’t-assume-I’m-straight-because-I-wear-lipstick-and-dresses femme dyke. Because femmes are always assumed to be straight or sleeping with men, and I do sleep with men, I made sure to always have a butch on my arm so I’d be read as femme. Even though I was sure I’d be mistaken for straight, the boys took one look at me and steered clear. It was as if I was too much of a woman for them to handle, like I was a handful, and I was. But butch girls love a handful—a handful of tits, a handful of ass, a girl who needs to be handled, a girl who can handle herself.

How I figured out I was a femme had a lot to do with the women I was attracted to and the dynamic between us. When I was in junior high, I used to mess around with a friend of mine named Angela. Angela was one of those girls who developed early; I remember she had big breasts in like sixth grade. We mostly kissed and touched over clothes, and we played out various boy-girl scenarios. I was always the girl—my early femme roots. My favorite of all our little scenes was the one where she was my male boss and I was the secretary. The boss made me have sex with him and told me if I didn’t I would get fired. Now this was all before Clarence Thomas, Anita Hill and the media awareness/obsession with sexual harassment. I remember she’d tell me to suck her dick and push my face unmercifully into her crotch, which smelled amazing,. The drama of it all—the force, the degradation, the power games—really got me off. After that, there was no going back to simplicity. I was hooked on the power.

Jen really epitomized all the girls I was attracted to then and still am. Being with a butch girl, I was valued for my combination of strength and vulnerability, for dressing up, for wanting an arm to hold onto, hips to wrap my legs around, being able to give my body over to her and say, I trust you, I’m yours. My butch loved me in low-cut dresses, appreciated my sexual voraciousness, worshipped my inner slut. I reveled in the fact that I could be strong and submissive all at once. Surrender and still be a feminist. Being a dyke is not just about who I fuck and love, it’s about being a girl who doesn’t play by the rules.

Butch girls don’t play by the rules either, and I love butch girls. Girls with hair so short you can barely slide it between two fingers to hold on. Girls with slick, shiny, barbershop haircuts and shirts that button the other way. Girls that swagger. Girls who have dicks made of flesh and silicone and latex and magic. Girls who get stared at in the ladies room, girls who shop in the boy’s department, girls who live every moment looking like they weren’t supposed to. Girls with hands that touch me like they have been touching my body their entire lives. Girls who have big cocks, love blow-jobs, and like to fuck girls hard. Every day, it is the girls that get called Sir that make me catch my breath, the girls with strong jaws that buckle my knees, the girls who are a different gender that make me want to lie down for them.

Someone else said it about me recently and it’s right on target: “She gets off on all different sorts of people sexually, but she falls for butches.” Like the poet who bought her first strap-on with me and then wanted to sleep with it on. The shrink-in-training who got harassed every time she drove down South. She did look so much like a fifteen-year-old boy: blue button-down shirts, neatly-combed blond hair. The ad exec who had names for her dildos and used to love for me to spit-shine her wingtips. The photographer whose face was so mannish she could pass almost anywhere. The writer who wanted a body like Loren Cameron’s. The telephone repairwoman who drove a truck. The cook who had a boy’s name. The academic who got cruised by gay men on Castro Street. The cornfed farmboy from the Heartland with arms so hard and strong you swear they’ve been working the land, not the iron at the gym.

And there’s the one who’s got the James Dean stare down, and dresses like a clean-cut fag, and looks at me like she could look at me forever and never blink or grow tired or move from the spot she’s in. She’s a girl who loves girls like me—girls in velvet bras, girls who want to surrender to her mouth. She’s a girl who isn’t afraid to throw a femme down on the bed and fuck her. Possess her. My kind of girl. This girl is different.”]

tristan taormino, from this girl is different, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny just casually mentioning things that correspond with Bruce, like the time he stole an experimental power suit and shot a god corresponding with Bruce shooting Darkseid or the Infi-map being like the time Bruce was lost in the time stream, and the bats wondering how this kid can remain a civilian

Danny tried his best to not blink too quickly, as it may cause the stranger to shoot him. He honestly has no idea how he ended up here, but somehow, he was taken hostage alongside a bus full of people on his way to buy some chips.

He got tired of Alfred's instance to ban all junk food from the manor and had snuck out while the Wyanes had been busy going over plans for some big showdown with a guy named Scarecrow.

Danny doesn't know who that is and doesn't care to find out. The less he knows, the less likely he will have to deal with rouge. He's on vacation, dang it.

Or he was until the bus was taken over by a group of men wearing gas masks. They forced their way onto the bus when they stopped for some passengers, forcing the driver at gunpoint to drive them off course, and now they were heading to a wear house. People were crying, but Danny felt like screaming.

He just wanted spicy chips, and- maybe if he had the time- he would swing by the old junkyard to find a steering wheel for his ship! Fenton luck strikes again, it seemed.

"I wouldn't be so smug, Kane," One of the people in a gas mask shouts at him. He blinks up at the woman pointing her gun at his head but scoffs at her stance. His mother would throw a fit if Danny or Jazz ever placed their feet so off balance like that while wielding a weapon. "Once Dr.Crane is done with you-"

"I'm sorry did you just threaten me with myself?" Danny cuts her off. She pauses seemingly thrown before she sputters.

"No- not Kane, Crane."

He blinks at her. "You just said the same thing"

"C-R-A-N-E." She spells in a huff.

"Ohhhhh. Sorry, the mask makes it hard to understand you. Okay, so where were you? Dr. Crane is going to do what with me-?" Danny asks, leaning back in his seat, and waving his hand at her.

There is a moment of silence before she hits him across the face with her gun. "Don't you mock me!"

"Ow." He deadpans, rubbing at his cheek, and wonders if it was supposed to hurt. His healing had vanished the pain before her gun left his skin. "I thought we were having a conversation, but forgive me, I had no idea you had an inferiority complex and assumed everyone was mocking you. Let me guess, no one has ever told you they are proud of you, and now you are defensive of every action you take because-"

"Shut up!" His voice wobbles and Danny knows he hit the nail on the head.

"Does it keep you up at night? Does it freak you out that everyone can see your issues on your face as bright as day? I bet it does it. Bet it causes you to cry like a sad little confused kid who still can't figure out how to ask for help." He doesn't mock. He states it as fact because that is what it was. Fact. She does break down about it; he can tell by her reaction, and his tone makes it all the harder to swallow.

"I'll kill you!"

"Do it." He smiles. "Saves me from your boss. But will that keep you safe? Let's find out! How long will it be before he breaks you down? Ten, maybe fifteen minutes? And he will break you; you know he will. He's already halfway there."

"I-" She stumbles away from him. He doesn't have to see her face to know it's gone pale. Ha.

One of her crew hits her shoulder, having heard him speaking while the rest of the bus stares. "Stop letting him into your head!"

"Oh, what's your name?" Danny asks, blinking his large blue eyes at the man, watching his body language for clues. His eyes zero in on three belts and how they all match up at the buckle despite the fact that they are stacked on top of each other. Didn't Jazz once say that a belt with that much control hinted about attention to detail?

Hmm.

"Is the plan falling apart- can you not control it? The way life just moves on without you and that freaks you out doesn't it. The lake of control?" He asks, and the man jerks back. Bingo.

"Holy shit," A teenager whispers in the back horrified. "It's Dr. Crane jr."

"No, that's the Rabid Dog," Another answer. "Heard he made three elites cry after talking to him for more than ten minutes."

Danny is about to open his mouth when suddenly Robin crashes through the front window. Rude. There is glass everywhere now.

Hours later, Alfred franticly checks him over for injuries while the rest are freaking out. Apparently, they had feared to find Danny screaming from terrible visions but instead found him mentally breaking the hired goons with Jazz's training. "It's not like they did anything. I had a harder time stealing a super suit than those fruitloops-"

"You stole a what?" Tim cuts him off, eyes narrowed. Danny shrugs.

"I mean, haven't we all stolen a super suit?"

"Literally, no one here has done that," Steph tells him, and Danny tilts his head.

"You guys must have had boring childhoods. Surely you at least tried to organize your school into a battle-ready militia? No one can finish school without doing that at least once."

Dick raises a hand. "Brucie, how common is this in your world? Because that's alarming."

"All the kids at my school do that. My graduating class has done it three different times back in freshmen year." He shrugs. Cass makes a strange noise in the back of her throat.

"Not a lie. Brucie is strange," She tells the group, and everyone stares in bewilderment at the boy sitting on the medical table, even Bruce.

Danny smiles at them sweetly like he would at Vlad when the fruitloop is over, and he gets his parents to throw him out sooner than he wants to leave. It curves with just the right amount of innocence and mischievous nature that no one can tell if it's a positive or deadly expression.

"You are from a war-torn world?" Damian inquires, fingers under his chin with a frown. "How are you so carefree?"

"Oh no, we haven't had a war in about- eh fifty years? Give or take." He answers and once again Cass confirms the truth of his words.

This does nothing to settle their nerves.

"Every day I learn more about teenage Bruce, and every day I am more unsettled," Jason announces, and the rest of the Bats nod. Danny's smile turns broader and softer. It makes him more attractive but unsettling in a way.

Alfred sighs with a fond smile. "Oh, the memories. Master Bruce used to smile at his dates in the same way. I can picture him taking that sweet girl to the movies as if though it was yesterday."

"Bruce, how in the world did you get people to date you? That's creepy as hell. " Dick accuses the man who only shrugs.

"Oliver once told me it was part of the thrill. The idea that I could kill them."

"Why!?"

"I wish I knew chum."

Danny slips the control into his sleeve- he will rip it apart later for the Bluetooth piece. He will wait till the Waynes are too busy with Bruce's old stories about his first few dates to take apart the fear gas bomb he took from the woman earlier today. Could he use it as a fuel?

He'll have to do some tests.

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐈'𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄; 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄; 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "heyy, i saw you were wanting requests for blurbs so like i was thinking maybe paige x fem!reader where they had lost the game they were playing and she was just in such a bad mood so when they got home reader took it upon herself to help paige relax but instead of paige being top, shes a bottom because she just wants to clear her mind yk?"

─ word count | 1.3k

─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion! smut with lots of plot, hurt to comfort, mention of paige being a perfectionist, description of self-criticism, paige being sad:(, not really much of a power dynamic but reader taking care of paige, just oral!

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous @plushkhiii @ilovepaigebueckerss @ajcuteee @vi0lentb3rry @paigeszn @brynsreads @delicateray and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

THE ENTIRE GAME had been bad.

Bad was really an understatement, it went terrible. The other team kept talking shit and fouling you but the ref didn't call it half the time. The team was being pushed to their limits, both physically and mentally. Every foul, every uncalled play, it was like adding fuel to a raging fire. The air in the gym felt heavy with and frustration bubbled just beneath the surface for every player on your team.

Coach Geno's voice echoed across the court, urging the team on, but even his unwavering support couldn't erase the tension that gripped the team.

The entire team was quiet in the locker-room, it was a horrifying loss ─ probably (hopefully) the worst of the season. You and Paige drove home in silence and you could feel the tension come off her body, her muscles tense as she drove.

Paige's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white with tension as she navigated the streets. You stole a glance at her from the corner of your eye, noting the furrow in her brow and the tight line of her lips. It was clear that she was taking the loss hard, just as you were. But beneath the disappointment, there was something else brewing, something unspoken that lingered between you.

Paige always took everything too personal ─ every loss felt like a personal failure rather than a team failure. She repeats every missed shot, every botched play and every uncalled foul in her head over and over again until she went crazy and you hated seeing her like this. It wasn't just about the loss on the scoreboard; it was about her own high standards, the relentless self-criticism that always threatened to consume her.

As the car rolled to a stop at a red light, you reached out and gently took Paige's cold hand in yours, interlocking your fingers with hers. She glanced over at you, exhaustion evident in her expression.

You wanted to ask if she was okay or at least prompt her to talk but she would talk when she needed to, she didn't like it when anyone pushed her to. She needed time to herself, to recollect her thoughts and come back stronger than ever.

The sight of your apartment building came into view, and Paige pulled into the parking lot with a sigh of relief. She unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, the cool evening air washing over the her. You followed suit, locking the car behind you as you made your way up to your apartment.

Inside, the familiar warmth enveloped you, a welcome contrast to the chill of the night air. You turned around and took off your shoes and as you looked up, you saw Paige's gaze linger on you. Before you could process anything, she was pulling you into a tight embrace as her head fell on your shoulder.

You were slightly taken aback but you quickly wrapped your arms around her instinctively, pulling her close as you felt the weight of her exhaustion and disappointment pressing against you. Paige's embrace was tight, as if she were clinging to you for dear life, seeking comfort in your touch.

She usually wanted to either be alone or take out her anger in other ways but she felt different this time. This loss felt different, there was something distinctly vulnerable about her, a rawness that tugged at your heartstrings.

"I'm sorry," Paige mumbled against your shoulder, her voice muffled but filled with sincerity. You pulled away and held her face in your hands as you met her eyes, hurt evident deep in them.

You frowned. "Why are you sorry, baby? This isn't on you, we weren't prepared for their aggressiveness and we didn't plan for them to come out that way. We were blindsided, we couldn't have seen it coming."

Paige didn't respond as she mirrored your frown. You suddenly realized that Paige probably didn't need a lecture (you both got enough from Geno tonight), she just wanted some comfort and reassurance. You released her face from your hands and pulled her back into a warm embrace, holding her close as you let the silence envelop you both.

She pulled away as she sniffled, letting you hold her as you pressed your forehead against hers.

With a gentle smile, you brushed your thumb across Paige's cheek, wiping away the stray tears that lingered there. "It's okay, baby," you murmured, your voice soft and reassuring. "Let's get in bed, okay? I'm gonna make you feel better,"

Paige nodded slightly, her lashes still wet with unshed tears. She leaned into your touch, finding solace in your warmth. With a deep breath, she allowed herself to be guided by you, trusting in your comforting presence.

You gently led her towards the bedroom, your arms wrapped protectively around her. . Once inside, she settled onto the bed as you sat next to her. She immediately pulled your lips against hers, her hands finding yours and gripping them tightly. The tension in her body gradually melting away as she closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in your touch.

She hummed against your lips, her touch a mixture of longing and desperation, seeking comfort in your body. You deepened the kiss slightly as she leaned back on the bed, letting you take control.

You pulled away slowly as you both caught your breaths, your hand moving to brush her hair out of her face. "Can I take care of you?"

She responded with a slow nod of her head as you sighed, pulling her lips in for a short kiss before you moved in between her legs. You slid off her shorts slowly as her breath hitched, her gaze remaining on your face. Your fingers ran against her cunt as her head fell back, letting herself get lost in your touch.

You watched her carefully as your tongue gilded against her wetness, taking in her every reaction. You couldn't believe she was letting you do this, she never liked giving up her control in any aspects of her life, especially in your relationship. But right now, she just wanted to be taken care of and she knew you could do it.

She looked breathtaking, the way her mouth was slightly hanging open and the way her breath hitched every time you touched her ─ god, you were so in love with her. After a few moments of teasing her slightly, you began focusing your tongue on her clit.

That was when she let out a whine that echoed through the walls of your bedroom, making your own core begin to pulsate. You closed your eyes, relishing in her taste and the way her legs wrapped around your head. Her hand gripped your hair (of course she still found a way to be control, someway) and began grinding against your face, as you continued your attack on her clit.

You didn't even need to use your fingers and Paige was already cumming on your face as she let out the sweetest moans you'd ever heard. You let her ride her orgasm on your face, moaning against her cunt as she came.

"Oh fuck," she cried out as she gripped your head before letting go. Paige caught her breath as she moved her legs from your shoulders, letting them fall on the bed.

Paige sat up, pulling your lips into a sloppy kiss as her hand found yours. She pulled you into her lap, her touch gentle yet firm as she guided you onto her lap, your bodies fitting together seamlessly.

With her hand still entwined with yours, Paige pressed closer, her lips moving against yours with a sense of urgency. She pulled away as she gazed into your eyes, a small smile beginning to play on her bruised lips.

"I love you, so much." Paige whispered as she lovingly gazed into your eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"I love you too," you whispered back, your voice barely above a breath but filled with the depth of your feelings.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[xveenusx]

And Yet..

Paring(s): jj maybank x fem!reader

Summary: two people who should be together simply can't find their way. In other words, JJ can't let himself be loved and can't let her go.

Author's note: This one is brutal so prepare yourselves. Realistically, JJ would totally self sabotage any chance of happiness because he can't handle how it makes him feel so that's exactly what this is. Thank you for all the feedback on 3 seconds! If you like when it hurts, then this is for you!

Part 1: Three Seconds

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

He left.

It’d been hours and none of us knew where JJ went, only that he left. While JJ storming off was a normal feat, he always came back.

Now normally, I would have been looking for him, knowing exactly where to look. I’d find him and we’d avoid everyone until he felt like he was ready. This time was different. He never looked at me the way he did today.

A look of pure betrayal.

John B had gone MIA with Sarah while Pope and Kie were handling everything we needed to look for the gold. Me? I was trying to find a way to cope with the sudden JJ sized gap in my life.

It was brutal trying to get through the entire day without collapsing. Everything felt dull. I decided going home and hiding out in my room was the only option. It spared me the looks of concern from our friends and gave me the freedom to cry.

My room felt abnormally empty and cold. My stomach rolled as JJ’s words played in a brutal loop. I crawled into my bed where I curled into myself tightly, hugging my knees to my chest to create some type of pressure.

He’ll come back. He always comes back.

I jolted awake to pounding on my window.

“-wake up. He needs you. It’s bad oh my god it’s really bad.”

Scrambling off the bed, I pushed the curtains aside to see Kie’s panicked face. “Kie, what’s going on?”

Her face filled with relief as she pulled me into her. “We need to get to the chateau now. He’s not making any sense and bought all of this stuff.”

Nausea rolled in my stomach.

“JJ-“

She cuts me off. “He needs you.”

I left the house in seconds, hopped into the Hayward truck and we took off. I nibbled on my nails, glancing at Kiara in the drivers seat. Her face was painted with worry and her leg bopped up and down displaying her nervous energy.

Kie moved one hand from the steering wheel and threaded our hands together, squeezing tightly.

Pulling up to the chateau, I see LED lights tangled up on the trees, shining lights reflecting on the yard. How was there power? The hurricane had taken everything out.

Before I could figure it out, I heard a commotion that drifted up the drive way.

“Where is she? You said Kie was getting her.”

My heart jumped to my throat. I hold onto Kiara tighter as we move toward the raised voices.

Something twisted in my chest as I took in the hot tub and lights suddenly decorating John B’s yard.

JJ is shouting at Pope now, slurring his words slightly, before taking a pull of the champagne he clutched in his hand.

“Look man, she’s here. She’s here, JJ. Calm down.” Pope announced, pointing in our direction, before placing his hands around his head and taking a deep breath.

Awareness ran through me. JJ turned his body to face me, his gaze flicked to mine.

He said nothing yet his eyes said everything. There was an openness that seemed to make him vulnerable.

“You came.”

A tug deep in my chest urged me to move closer. “You asked.”

“Okay, now that she’s here. What did you do, JJ? Where did all this come from?” Pope asked, but we all knew the answer.

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now. Y’all should get in immediately, ya hear?” JJ laughed, the aviator sunglasses slipping down slightly. His blonde hair slick with water stuck to his forehead as he messily poured champagne into a glass. “Salud!”

Pope let out a noise of disbelief, “How much did this cost?”

“Uh, pretty much all of it.”

I moved around, taking in the inflatable floaties that filled up the yard, while biting the inside of my cheek. He spent all of the money.

“Kie, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?”

I tuned out their arguing. There was a reason he acted out and bought all of this pointless shit but I couldn’t figure out what it was. He knew. He knew he needed to pay for restitution.

A blanket of dread covered my body like an old blanket as the consequences of JJ’s actions finally settled in. Another sense of dread hit when I knew I wouldn’t leave him.

“You could have paid for restitution or better yet, helped us buy supplies.” Pope said, shaking his head in clear frustration.

They weren’t seeing this for what it was. Something was wrong. Yes, he was reckless and rash but like I said before, most of the time he does those things because something happened.

“Okay Pope. Well, I didn’t do that. I got a hot tub for my friends,” JJ choked out, “I got a hot tub for my friends. Screw that, I got a hot tub for my family.”

“JJ, what the hell?” Kie whispered.

Something in her voice made me turn back around quickly and that’s when I saw it.

JJ stood at the center of the hot tub, one hand clutching the champagne bottle while the other hung loosely at his side. His gold necklace moving back and forth shining under the lights, but that’s not what caught my eye.

What caught my eye was the purple and blue bruises that littered his chest and ribs. A high pitched ringing filled my ears as my body felt like it began to float.

This. This was the reason he spent all the money.

My hand covers my mouth as I let out a choked sound.

Hearing the noise, JJ turns to me, his face entirely shattered, tears causing the crystal blue orbs to shine.

“Do you see what I did? Look what I did for you,” He cried out as he held out his arms, staring at me with such vulnerability I could feel my knees start to buckle.

Tears freely began to fall from my face as I took inventory of just how many bruises covered his body.

“No, stop being so emotional. It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

My feet moved on their own accord. Fully dressed, I threw one leg over then the other ignoring the burning from the heat of the water.

He reached for me the moment my body hit the water just as my arms circled around his neck. JJ curled his body into me, the champagne bottle forgotten, his arms circling around my waist digging into my lower back, clutching me like a life line.

My legs knocked together as the adrenaline and helplessness kicked in. I began counting in my head my breaths because I knew in this moment, I couldn’t afford to break down.

Not when he was broken beyond belief.

My fingers threaded themselves into his sun-kissed locks, brushing from the nape of his neck to the top of his head and back again. I pressed my lips onto his head, not letting my grip loosen for one second.

“I love you.” I murmured over and over again as sobs wracked his body, his head in my chest soaking my shirt with his tears. “I got you, it’s okay. I’m here, Jayj.”

I glanced up helplessly and see Pope and Kie staring at us, both of them clearly distraught.

I beckon them over with a nod in my head and instantly JJ and I are covered in warmth. Their arms wrapping around us both, whispering words of love to him.

We stayed like that until our skin got pruny, not wanting to move until he was ready.

When the time did come, I could tell by the way his grip on my waist loosened and his sobs quieted down. Brushing the hair out of his face, I brought my face close to his, “You ready to get out now?”

JJ nodded.

“Kie, can you set out some of John b’s clothes?” I asked her, moving to get out. She nodded and pope followed her inside.

JJ followed closely behind me. His fingers laced with mine, trembling slightly as the night air bit at our soaked bodies.

Shuffling into the chateau, our friends were sprawled out on the couch with Kie strumming away at the ukulele.

“I left the clothes in the spare.” Pope said, his eyes locked on JJ.

I shot him a thankful smile, “Thanks, Pope.”

Once we were in the room, I shut the door as JJ shimmed out of his shorts. Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I grabbed the towel from the bed and began to dry him.

I could feel his intense gaze on my face the entire time. Biting back a smile, I whispered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Please.”

“I really like the hot tub.”

JJ tilted his head back and let out a surprised laugh. The sound of his familiar laugh caused a wave of warmth to crash over me, causing a zoo of butterflies to swarm my stomach.

“It is a pretty sick tub, isn’t it?” He smiled.

“It is. Very kooky of you.”

He narrowed his red rimmed eyes at me, “Take that back.”

I couldn’t have his my grin even if I tried.

“JJ the kook? I could see that.”

He sends me a cheeky smile in return. Bringing my attention back to the task at hand, I drag the towel along his shoulders before heading towards his chest. My hand stalled slightly as I saw how angry the bruises were, the hue of the purple and blue causing my stomach to churn.

My head moved carefully as I pressed my lips softly along each bruise, fluttering my eyes shut. I feel familiar rough hands tangling themselves in my hair and he lets out a sharp breath.

Opening my eyes, he tilted my head back with his fingers gripped the nape of my neck. A storm brewed in the crystal blue eyes, flicking between every emotion.

His thumb slowly drew my bottom lip down causing his eyes to darken with each passing second,” Thank you.”

Tremors wracked my body at how close we were, our breaths intertwined filtering into my bloodstream.

JJ shifted forward allowing his lips to softly brush mine. The moment my lips parted, he pressed his again almost like he was inhaling my every breath.

Pulling back, he rested his forehead on mine and repeated, “Thank you.”

“I got you. I’ll let you change-“ My words got cut off as he grabbed my arm to stop me in my tracks.

“Stay.”

And so I did.

_______________

I blinked at the alarm clock that read 3 a.m and slowly rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes. I could hear the sound of the skeeters buzzing outside the chateau and felt a strange sense of calm at the quiet.

Reaching toward the other side of the bed , my hands were met with empty cold sheets. He was gone.

I closed my eyes tightly and took in a deep breath as I willed for this nightmare to go away. We still had a lot to work through, but I thought after last night, he finally understood how fucking in deep I was. I was all in, completely and utterly in love with him. It’s always been him.

Pushing my body up, I slowly bring the sheet up to my chest covering my naked body from the cold. A sharp tinge of fear hit my chest as I noticed a presence at the end of the bed that was quickly replaced with an immense sense of relief.

JJ sat on the edge of the bed with his bare back facing me, his elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. A small smile played my lips as I shuffled over, my hands slowly trailing themselves over his shoulders and pressed my lips softly against his shoulder blade.

“Can’t sleep?”

His shoulders tensed the minute my lips touched his body. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

Confusion filled every fiber of my being as I finally took him in. I could feel the weak stitches that held my heart together suddenly begin to tear.

I opened my mouth and closed it. The backs of my eyes burned as I stared at the side of his face, the face that I spent hours admiring, that refused to even look at me.

“I thought after last night-“

JJ shook his head in disgust and let out a dry breath, roughly tugging at the messy strands on his head.

“We fucked. It’s not like that’s something we’ve never done before. It doesn’t change anything.”

Like I said before, I understand him. I know him and I know exactly what he’s doing. That doesn’t stop every part of me from feeling like I had just gotten kicked in the chest.

“JJ, please don���t do this.” I inhaled a shaky breath as I clutched the sheer tighter to my chest, almost like it was an armor against his cruel words, words that I knew came from a place of panic. Yet, it hurt just the same.

“Do what,” JJ said, getting up from the bed to face me, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “You made it clear what side you were on and it wasn’t mine.”

“Stop twisting what happened. You forget that I know you, JJ. I know you,” I stood on my shaky feet, the sheets wrapped around my body. “You think I dont know why your treating me this way. You’re dad doesn’t decide who you are.”

Desperation burned in my blood as I once again tried to grasp at straws. He was always finding excuses to run from me and each and every time, JJ took a piece of me with him.

“Shut up. I’m not doing this shit with you.”

“You have no idea how special you are do you? How easy you are to love?” It was an honest question, one that seemed to anger him if the clenching of his fists was any indication.

“Stop-“

I cut him off. “Because you are. Special, I mean.”

JJ said nothing. His gaze met mine, and the blue eyes I thought matched the ocean perfectly, showed a battle of emotions.

I took the opportunity to move closer to him, fighting the urge to curl up and cry at the look of utter confusion on his face.

Luke had successfully beat it into him that he was worthless, useless, and would never amount to anything. This, this look on his face was why I stayed.

He didn’t know. He really didn’t know the effect he had on people, on me.

My fingers trembled slightly as I reached to touch the bracelets that decorated his wrist. All of them being gifts from me.

“You’re fiercely loyal to the people you love. The family that you chose for yourself. It’s almost frustrating how you don’t see it,” I muttered, tilting my head up to search his eyes. “I mean, fuck JJ, you took the fall for Pope because you didn’t want his future to be ruined. You went to jail and now you’re on probation.”

“Please, stop.” His plead was weak at best.

My fingers danced along his jaw, my voice wavering slightly at the tightness in my chest. “You sat with my everyday during summer school so I wouldn’t be myself. No one does that, JJ. Especially not here.”

He had to know I was telling the truth.

“So please, listen to me when I tell you that loving you has been the easy thing I’ve ever done.”

Despite the immense beating my poor heart has taken, it still beats with a naive sense of hope.

Hope that sky rocketed when JJ reached forward to twirl a strand of my hair in between his fingers, almost as though he was memorizing how it felt.

“Such pretty little words.” He hummed. “How many other guys have you told that too?”

I recoiled back in shock.

“Pretty little words won’t get you anywhere. You wanna fuck, I’m down. But that’s not gonna stop me from mackin’ on other chicks.”

Then he dropped the strand of my hair, along with every hope that he could love me.

I chose to then focus on my anger that slowly began to bubble to the surface.

“Like who? Your gonna start mackin’ on Kie?” I launched the question at him, my voice raising an octave in disbelief.

“Maybe. At least she knows when to leave.”

“Stop talking to me like that,” My voice broke at the end, the burning in my eyes getting too hard to ignore. “You’re hurting me.”

All I could do was stare.

Here I stood, heart bleeding, begging a broken boy to love me back. And maybe that wasn’t fair for me to ask, maybe it was too much but a large part of me thought he felt something. Even if it was a fraction of what I felt for him because at least it was something.

Anything.

“You’re never going to let me love you, are you?” I ignored the sharp stab in my stomach as I finally said the question I already knew the answer to.

JJ’s head snapped up in shock at my question. “I never asked for you to love me.”

“You showed up to my window every night because you didn’t want to go home. You hold my hand, you kiss me, you fuck me. You come to me when you can’t fucking sleep. You sleep in my bed. You teach me to surf and take me everywhere with you. You ask for my advice and god forbid I don’t answer the phone, you have a melt down.” I was shouting at that point, my voice loud enough to wake up our friends who were sleeping in the living room but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“You need me, I’m there. You got arrested, I bail you out. You get in a fight, I clean you up. JJ, you showed up in my life and surrounded me. You’re fucking everywhere. How could you not expect me to fall in love with you when you do these things?”

The laugh I let out was one of a broken girl, one who had completely lost herself in a wave of chaos known as JJ Maybank.

The door was right there. And yet, I couldn't get my feet to move.

“Because I don’t fucking understand it, okay? Because I’ve never had the luxury of someone looking at me the way you do and it makes me physically fucking sick.” JJ took several strides until he was pressed up firmly against me, his fingers threading themselves into the nape of my neck.

“The way you look at me makes me feel like I’m suffocating, don’t you get that? And yet, I can’t fucking thinking straight when you’re not by me.” He choked out, his face was white with panic.

I could feel myself start to crumble at his words. Welcome to the club. “Yesterday, you said I wasn't enough for you.”

JJ nodded, his eyes staring straight into me with such intensity I had to swallow.

“You know why I said it. You know how I get. The way you look at me,” He swears pounding his hand against the wall,” Fuck the way you look at me. You make me feel like I can be a better person, that I have the potential to do something great.”

“Because you can-“

“No I fucking can’t. You give me this hope that I can be better and then something happens to remind me that I can’t and it crushes me. It fucking wrecks me.”

I roughly wiped the tears that blurred my vision and asked, “So what are you saying?”

The silence caused the anticipation of his answer to intensify, making breathing almost impossible.

“Sometimes, being with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Can you hear that? It’s the sound of my heart shattering for the last time.

“Then you have to let me go.”

He shook his head,”Thats not what I want.”

“Let me go, JJ. If not for you, then for me because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. You haven’t even been able to say it back. You completely own me, every thought I have is about you.”

“You own ME.” JJ shouted, his hands in his hair tugging it in anger. “And it completely terrifies me and then I say the first thing I can to make the fear go away just so I can get a moment of peace. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

In a way, I couldn’t really be angry with him.

No one’s every really described just how dangerous loving someone can be. How they consume every part of you until there’s nothing left. Until suddenly, you can only breathe when you’re around them. When your very mood depends on the expression of their face. The pure feeling of ecstasy that covers your body in a layer of electricity the moment you’re around them and they look at you.

“You love me,” At my words, JJ looked almost relieved, like he finally understood why he felt so many things at once,” but you can’t let yourself love me.”

And yet, despite this revelation, I still couldn’t bring myself to leave.

A tortured look passed his face as he pressed his back against the wall and slowly slid down.

“You need to let me go because I love you to the point that I cant bring myself to leave. So if you don’t want me, if you can’t be with me then do this for me. If you don’t, I’m going to keep giving you every piece of me until there’s nothing left. “

I guess you never truly understand until it happens. Until you get physically ill when they’re upset or filled with warmth when you see them tilt their head back and laugh. When you see them and suddenly the world is just a little less overwhelming, bearable even.

When every fiber of your being is tuned into one person.

Gripping the sheet tighter, I moved in between his legs and settle myself on the floor. The moment I did, JJ engulfed me in his embrace. His presence soaked through my skin leaving the intoxicated feeling in its wake.

“I can’t,” He shook his head fervently, “ I can’t do that.”

I understood him, because I couldn’t either.

“What are we going to do, Jayj?”

JJ pressed his face against my throat, “I don’t know.”

We weren’t okay, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Nothing had been solved and yet, we sat on the floor wrapped in each others embrace.

So I said the only thing I knew to be true and give him yet another piece of me, “I love you.”

“I know.”

There we were. Two souls irrevocably intertwined in a mass of love and hate that were broken beyond recognition. Neither of us being able to leave the other.

And yet, all I could focus on was his inability to say he loved me back.

_____________________

Tags for all those who requested: @trickylittlewitch @maybankslover @bcon24 @chaoticbisous @ifilwtmfc @dullsocietyy @mad-die45 @stuffyownswrld @kaylinfayezink @theywantedplayer

[ddejavvu]

hi hi, I loveee your animagus collection!! I was wondering if you could do one where reader appears all scratched up and injured cuz she got in a fight with another cat in her animagus form. thanks!!

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

--

Sirius knows to expect your presence from your spot on the map that's moving hurriedly towards his dorm, a powerful stride from how you're blowing past other names quicker than they can step out of your way. He's glad that none of them seem to stop you or confront your seemingly abrasive speed, and he's equal parts curious and petrified when you finally burst through the door.

Most of it melts away though, heated and liquified and dripping into his stomach by a burning panic that seals itself around his heart and lungs instead.

Your face is scratched, lines of blood-red crust slowly darkening the more you expose them to the air. He's sure they'd dried and scabbed quickly as you'd stormed through the castle to find him, and he's worried they're contaminated before he's had the chance to clean them out.

"Darling," He stands abruptly, noticing similar scratches across the rest of you, and even a bite mark, pinpricks of violence and spit laid into your arm like twin red flags, "What- what happened to you?"

"I got in a fight," You grumble, and for all of the enthusiasm you'd had storming into the room, you stand there now, letting it leak out of you like air from a balloon that had once been close to popping.

"With who?" Sirius's brain does not register the conflicting statements; how a punch to the eye could result in fang prints in your forearm.

"Muffy," You spit the cat's name like a dirty word, emphasizing it's dull stuffiness, "She came and sat in my sunspot, and I was gonna let her share it, too, but then she started bitching at me to move!"

Sirius's limbs loosen from where they'd been locked tightly in place, and he remains standing where he has been all this time, watching you explain your tussle with astonished curiosity written on his face.

"I didn't, but then she started batting at me," You recall with bitter disdain on your tongue, the same sting that you'd felt when the other cat's claws had sunk into your fur, "Before I knew it, she was just going at me, like- like some fucking animal! Well- like- like some other kind of animal."

Sirius steps forwards to take your arm in his own, and inspect the only bite mark he can see. It's angry and vicious, though it doesn't look like there's blood seeping from it anymore, and he makes a mental note to disinfect all of your abrasions in case Muffy had indulged in something unsanitary for breakfast.

"I'm sorry, darling." Sirius says, both because he means it and because he doesn't know what else to say. It's teetering on the edge of absurdity that you managed to scrap with a cat and come away looking like you'd lost, and he wonders if you'd fled the scene on four paws, or two legs. Both would be comical to him if you weren't hurt, so he pushes the thoughts out of his head and steers you into the bathroom by what he hopes is an uninjured shoulder.

He sits you on the counter with ease, and from the hiss that you let out, the cool marble bites at the scrapes on the backs of your thighs. But they seem to mellow into a soothing effect, and you relax into them, your flesh flattening out as Sirius rummages through the cabinet below.

"Muffy's quite vicious," Sirius muses, rubbing disinfectant on a cut along your cheek, "This one might scar."

You groan, the sound nearly gruff enough to be a growl, "Oh, get her back for me Sirius, would you?"

"Get her back-?" His raven-black brows furrow, and he glances away from the cut up a few inches to your eyes, "What do you mean, darling?"

"I mean you're a big scary guard dog," You push pleadingly at his shoulder, "Just- snap your jaws at her, or something! Please?"

"I'm not sure Prewett would like it very much if I traumatized her cat," Sirius muses guiltily, but he's persuaded when you let loose the most devastatingly gut-wrenching pair of puppy eyes that he's ever seen, far more powerful than anything even his canine form could produce.

"Oh, fine," He sighs, his lips finding purchase at the bridge of your nose, in an awkward crevice between your brow-split and your eye, "Darling, you know I love you, but next time, please tussle with a cat that isn't so terrifying?"

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 24

part 1 | part 23 | ao3

cw: alcohol, throwing up, brief reference to canonical character death

"Oh, my god!" Robin barks, nearly throwing herself off-balance again with the force of her laugh. "This is too good, man. You truly cannot escape your babysitting duties."

"Can I help you?" Max seethes.

Help him? Help him? "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She gestures to the guy she's holding onto, some fluffy-haired kid with a cut-off vest covered in safety pins that Steve sort of vaguely recognizes as one of Eddie's friends. Oh, shit. Is Eddie here finally? Has he seen him?

"Wait, where's Lucas?" Steve asks.

"Who cares?" she bites back.

The guy gives a nervous chuckle and loosens his grip on her waist. "Uh-h. Did you say babysitter?"

"He's not actually, Jesus. I'm fourteen; I don't need a babysitter. And he was just leaving, anyway, right?"

Her glare feels like a slap. Girl's got daggers in her eyes, holy shit. It's like she's hoping some of El's powers magically transferred to her; like she's picturing him flying ten feet into the air and landing with a splat on the far side of the concrete, and he doesn't need this. He did not come out tonight to be bullied by a teenager. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking—"

"—me to the punch bowl!" Robin interrupts, putting her hands on Steve's chest to stop him from grabbing Max and hauling her back to the car.

"Robin, what—?"

"Yep!" She shoves him hard, pushing him to the edge of the dance floor. "Silly me, just dying of thirst, ha ha. Okay, cool, see you both later!"

—

"What the hell was that?" Steve demands when they're safely on the far side of the pavilion.

"An intervention."

Oh, my god. May he never hear the word 'intervention' again in his life.

"Un-ruffle your Mother Hen feathers for two seconds and think, would you? One: it would look really, really, seriously weird for you to be seen dragging a dead jock's kid sister kicking and screaming to your car."

A dead jock’s kid sister. Jesus, tipsy Robin has no tact.

"Two: you said we were going to go out and have fun and get, and I quote, 'very drunk.' Take your babysitter hat off for one night. She's a high schooler, and this is a high school party."

"Yeah, I know," he sulks. Doesn't need the reminder that he's technically past the age limit.

"Okay, so then let her have fun! It's not like you weren't out drinking and smoking by her age."

'I'm always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct.' Goddammit. Steve needs another drink. "I just don't want her to do anything dumb and get hurt."

"She won't. We can just, like, keep an eye on her from a distance, right? Let her come to us if she needs anything."

"So we should just act like your parents?" Steve snorts.

"My parents are amazing, thank you!"

"Your mom offered me mushroom tea once."

"Like I said: amazing."

Steve huffs a laugh, flips his hair out of his eyes and snags a handful of tortilla chips. "Okay," he says around a crunchy bite, "so what's the third thing?"

"Third thing?" Robin asks. She’s not even looking at him anymore, her eyes eager and distracted as she scans the crowd.

"You're biting your lip weird, there's clearly a third thing."

She turns to him, and the smile springs free from its containment, spreading all over her flushed, ecstatic face. "Vickie just showed up."

—

Steve’s hammered.

Whoops.

Didn’t mean to do it; feels a little bad about it as he tips his head up to the sky and all the stars go raining in bright streaks across his vision. Reminds him of the ceiling at Starcourt, nauseous and spinning under a swirl of bright fluorescence. He hopes Rob’s flirting is going well.

He meant to get politely drunk.

A socially appropriate amount.

But then Robin ran off to flirt with Vickie, and Steve was doing his best to just lay low, steer clear of Max and maybe find a way to casually run into Eddie if he could find him, when he spotted the girl he went on that disaster of a date with instead and realized his options were either: stay there by the beer coolers while she came over with her new date and subjected him to the most painful small talk of his life, or retreat to the dark edges of the party with as much booze as he could carry, so.

He's slumped on top of a picnic bench downwind of the bonfire, bad ear ringing, belly full to bursting, trying to remember when one beer became… more than one beer.

Five?

Six, maybe?

Fuck.

“‘M gonna puke,” he confesses to the splintered wood beneath his feet; to the pine bough overhead, the smoky fire at his back.

“Wow,” someone says, an amused lilt to their tone, and Steve knows that voice, he—

Oh, no.

Ohhhh, no.

Now? Really?

Steve whips his head around, opens his mouth to ask ‘Eddie?’ and barfs all over his shoes.

—

part 25

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

[nexysworld]

Summary: New to town, stuck late and caught in the rain to boot; your night couldn't possibly get any worse. At least that's what you thought until on your way home you're pulled over by a certain blonde haired blue eyed cop. Pairing: RE2R CorruptCop!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, Dubcon, Abuse of Power, Semi-public sex, Finger Sucking, Sex Toy, Temperature Play, Unprotected Sex, Handcuffs, Light BDSM, Toxic Dynamics, no use of y/n

Title from the Deftones Song - Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)

Read on AO3 || Masterlists || Ask Box

The rain was pouring down, pattering against the cement of the parking lot as wind blew the smell of dew and crisp air across your face. It was late, later than you had wanted to stay at work, but things kept piling up and before you knew it, the sun had come down and your coworkers had all left you alone.

Yellow light flickered off of the closest street lamp, the only other source of illumination was your phone’s screen lit up. You tapped against the glass in frustration, a cold shiver running down your spine. “Come on, come on!” The signal symbol in the top corner of the screen kept flashing, leaving you unable to make any call or access the internet. All you had wanted to do was pull up maps again, being new to town you hadn’t familiarized yourself with the roads – the weather was so bad that you didn’t want to test it either.

The windbreaker you had on was doing little to help the chill in your bones now that the rain had begun blowing sideways, soaking you even under the awning that covered the entrance. Now soaked, freezing, and not wanting to wait any longer, you made the decision to book it to your car. Relishing in the heat you relaxed back against the fabric of the seat, slipping the soaked jacket off along with your damp shirt. Luckily the tanktop beneath was mostly spared of the icy rain water.

Giving it one more shot, you looked at your phone, still no signal. A sigh escaped you as the wipers turned on helping to remove the frosty fog from the windshield, tossing the useless device on the passenger seat.

When the windows were finally defrosted enough for you to mostly be able to see ahead of the car, you backed out of the spot and took off down the road. “Ok, I got this. I make a right here by the giant oak tree.”

The dark road ahead of you felt familiar to the one you took home during the day, but without much peripheral vision it was hard to tell. Soon the open road became dark with nothing but your headlights as the last streetlamp passed you by, an uneasiness taking over you. “This isn’t right.” Walls of trees surrounded you on both sides of the road, only visible when passing cars illuminated them for you. Not sure what to do, and nervous as hell, you kept trekking forward, hoping to at least find a major highway or something that looked familiar.

It wasn’t long until red and blue lit up the inside of your car from behind. “A cop? Shit.” With the back window frosted over you hadn’t seen him pull onto the road, and with the darkness surrounding you, it was difficult to tell where you could even pull over safely. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. The anxiety that coursed through your veins was already bad enough as it was, but once you hadn’t pulled over quick enough, the sound of the sirens blaring through your eardrums caused you to nearly jump out of your skin. Immediately, you slammed the breaks, causing the car to squeal before coming to a complete stop.

Not more than a few moments go by before you hear the sound of boots thudding against the ground getting closer. Taking the initiative, you roll down the window, letting the cutting winter air slap you in the face once again while you gripped your ID tightly, waiting for the officer.

Blinding light encompassed your vision, causing your hand to go up instinctively to shield your eyes as they adjusted.

“Good evening, Miss.” His voice sounded young, and you could hear the smacking of gum being chewed loudly between his words.

“Good evening officer… Kennedy” You gave a weak smile, eyes reading his name tag before finally settling on his face. He was young. Piercing blue eyes almost glowed with the illumination of the metal flashlight in his hand. Plush lips upturned into a friendly smile, coupled with soft features. Soft blonde hair framed his face accentuating his cheek bones and dimpled chin. He wasn’t just young, he was cute – handsome. If this were a different time and place you would’ve actually considered hitting on the guy.

“Wanna tell me why you didn’t pull over when you first saw the lights?”

“I wasn’t sure where a safe spot to pull over was. I hoped maybe a little up the way would be a place with more light.”

“Uh huh…” He said, eyeing you over, the tone in his voice clearly indicating suspicion. “Do you know why I pulled you over this evening, ma’am?”

“Uhh no honestly, I can’t say I do.” An awkward smile tugged at your features, nerves bubbling in the pit of your stomach. The only relief coming from the hope that this fresh faced, doe-eyed cop would go easy on you. He seemed friendly, and if his age was any indicator he likely hadn’t been a cop long, perhaps that could score you some bonus points.

A thick blonde brow raised as he spoke. “You were going pretty fast. Speed limit in most parts of Arklay County is 35 if you’re not in the city. I had you going nearly 60.”

“Arklay? Oh shit –” The realization you had gone in the complete opposite direction from where you were supposed to have been headed struck you like a tonne of bricks. “I’m so sorry officer, I’m not from around here.”

“Well normally I’d understand that, but there’s signage posted all down this strip of road.”

“Oh. Well, you know it’s late and rainy with my windows fogged up it’s been a little hard to see, especially where there’s no street lights.”

He leaned back from where he hunched over your window, looking at the car. “Your entire rearview is frosted along with more that ⅓ of the viewing radius on your windshield. It’s not safe to drive like that, especially speeding in the dark.”

Your eyebrow twitched with annoyance, the sound of the gum in his mouth beginning to grate on your nerves as well. The last thing you wanted was a lecture – tired, cold, and away from home you wanted this encounter to be over. The hope of him going easy on you seemed to dwindle with each word out of his mouth.

“I know, my car's kind of a junker. I’ve been meaning to get the back wiper fixed. I just haven’t been able to yet. I’ll do it soon I swear.” He didn’t say anything, taking in your words. You took the opportunity to continue. “Look, is there any way you can let me off with a warning? I’ve been having a really bad night. I just started a new job in the county over. I got stuck late in the rain at said job, and now I’m lost trying to get back home.” Batting your eyelashes you gave him the best kicked puppy look you could muster hoping to inspire some sympathy from your tale.

His features steeled into a neutrally unamused expression. “License and registration.” He said flatly.

“You can’t be serious!” You exclaimed, slapping the steering wheel in frustration. “Come on, I’m begging you, sir.”

Officer Kennedy didn’t respond, instead he moved to clip the flashlight to a loop on his shoulder to keep it in place as he pulled his notebook out, penciling down on the yellowed pages before finally speaking again. “Speeding. Not adhering to street postings. Reckless driving in an unsafe vehicle, and refusal to provide documentation to an officer of the law.”“Huh?” You were gobsmacked by his words. “What are you –”

“Miss, I'm going to need you to step out of the car.”

“Wait, wait no I have my license right here. I wasn’t refusing, I was–”

“Please don’t make me ask again. Step out of the vehicle, hands on your head.”

The nerve of this guy! Unbuckling your seatbelt you exited the car as quickly as possible, putting your hands atop your head like you were told.

“Are there any drugs or weapons in the car or on your person I should be made aware of?”

“No, of course not! Please, this is all a misunderstanding.” His gloved hand grasped at you, turning you to face your car again. With both hands he patted you down gently, the cold air causing goosebumps to form on your skin now. If the night hadn’t already been going bad as it was, this was the worst.

No reply again, just the same sound of that damned gum gnashing between his teeth and the smell of his spicy cologne wafting into your nose. He brought his hand up to your right arm, gently pulling it down behind your back, before mimicking the other.

The jingle of metal on metal made your heart stop. “Y-you’re not arresting me are you? You can’t do that, you haven’t even read me my rights.” It took everything you had to will any oncoming tears away.

He replied by clasping the metal around your wrists before clamping them shut. The weight of the situation made you feel like you were shackled to the earth where you stood. Hands trembling behind you, as his hot breath ghosted over your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “I haven’t read you the rights because I’m not arresting you. Just making sure you and I are both safe while I check things out.

“Check what things out?”

“You know, you ask a lot of questions. Maybe if you listened more you wouldn’t be where you’re standing right now.” His hands slid down your sides again, this time stopping on your butt cheeks, patting them down lightly before feeling the warm leather splayed against your inner thigh lingering a tad longer than what was appropriate. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you tensed up, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“What’s the matter?” Despite not seeing his face, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“You aren’t hiding something, are you?”

“No! What the hell?”

“You sure? Then why are you so tense, if you have nothing to hide?” He dragged his hands up your side again, applying more pressure before sneaking his hands around your torso, palms against your chest giving a little squeeze. You jolted against the car, gasping.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You shouted pushing yourself back against him, your voice while intended to sound angry came out a wavering whine.

“What was that?”

“I said, get off of me you pig!”

“Mouthy, mouthy. You really don’t want me looking here, do you?” To emphasize his point, he squeezed your chest again, rubbing your pebbling nipples through your thin bra with his thumbs.

“Fucking creep!” You spat struggling against him.

“That’s not very nice.” He whispers into your ear. “Know what I think? I think you are hiding something and you don’t want me to find out.” He pulled you back against him, far enough from the car that he could grab your tanktop from the center, yanking it down, roughly stretching the fabric of the spaghetti straps before they finally snapped against your shoulders, stinging as the shirt was yanked to your stomach.

His fingers made their way to the front clasp of your bra, deftly jerking the hook to come undone, breasts bouncing out as your nipples pebbled in the cold air almost painfully. A whine echoed from your mouth as he spun you around, roughly pushing your back into the frigid metal of your car.

“Hmmm. Nothing here.” He said, sky blue orbs moving from your face to observe your cold-perked breasts. He watched you shiver with that sickeningly sweet smile plastered to his boyish face. “Poor thing, it’s pretty cold out isn’t it? Those little buds look so hard they could cut glass.”

“Fuck you!”

“You know what they say, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Why don’t you try behaving for a minute and see where it gets you.” As if displaying his point, he brings his large hands back to your breasts, kneading them in his palms a few times before soothing his thumbs over your nipples again. The feeling makes you tingle, the warmth more pleasurable than you’d ever want to admit. “See, that’s better isn’t it? Just be compliant for me and this will all be over faster.”

Anger swirled in the pit of your stomach, wanting nothing more than to knock that smile off his stupid-pretty face. You couldn’t believe only 10 minutes prior you had actually thought he was handsome, a nice cop who’d understand your plight and let you go.

Hyper aware of how stuck you were, your brows knitted together in frustration, a few tears finally spilled out of your eyes burning hot against your cheek. He swiped them away, a gesture that would have been sweet if it was coming from anyone besides this power-abusing creep. “No need for tears. We’re just doing a standard inspection. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to be afraid of, right sweetheart?”

The pet name made you sick, and you couldn’t contain the venom on the tip of your tongue.”Fuck you asshole!” You shouted jerking away from him again.

His smile faded almost instantly to an unamused look. “Resisting an Officer too? You really are up to no good tonight.” He said, grabbing you roughly by the arm, pulling you away from your own vehicle and tugging you towards his cruiser. He’d switched the flashlight off leaving you mostly in the dark as he trudged you along. Fear made you attempt to dig your heels, but his grip was like a vice and as he yanked, you were forced to tumble forwards with him until he shoved you face first into the back seat, your bottom half hanging out off the black faux-leather.

The inside of the car was toasty warming you up almost instantly, but your legs shivered desperately against the freezing air swirling outside. “Stay still.” He commanded, as you felt two fingers make their way into the waistband of your pants before he unceremoniously yanked them down to your ankles.

“What are you –”

“Finishing my inspection.” He replied, brushing his hands up your thighs, this time applying more pressure directly to your skin, making his way closer and closer to your panties. A firm slap was landed on your ass hurting so much it made you yelp. “That was for that bratty attitude.” Soothing the sore spot with gentle rubs from one hand, he brought the other between your legs gently rubbing against your clothed slit, stopping to nudge at your clit through the fabric.

Your eyes went wide as saucers, mouth agape. You hated that your body reacted to the feeling, a moan making it’s way out of your mouth, feeling the arousal building up at your center.

“Don’t feel anything yet, but you can never be too sure.” He pulled his hand away, your body instinctively bucking back a little without any input from your brain. Your underwear received the same treatment as your pants, but not before he snapped the elastic of your waistband, making you whimper at the sting.

You felt the starched fabric of his uniform pants brush harshly against your inner thigh before he used it to pull your legs as far apart as they would go while still restricted at the ankles by your clothing. Something cold and smooth was dragged up your leg, making you squirm in place uncomfortably. It was different to the texture of his gloves, you couldn’t tell if it was plastic or metal. The object made it’s way to your slicked up folds, running through them gently.

“Gahh!” You squealed trying to wiggle forward away from the icy feeling.You couldn’t go any farther, stopped by the grating that separated the seat you were in from the other side.

“None of that.” He said, moving his arm forward, dragging whatever it was against you again. The sheer temperature was uncomfortable, but when he circled it against your clit, the torturous mix of discomfort and pleasure made you shudder involuntarily. More slick leaked out onto the seats.

Coating its base into your wetness, he prodded your hole gently. Craning your neck to the point of pain, you looked behind you as best you could to see what was happening, the night stick gripped firmly in his hand. Your brain screamed at you to be scared, while your body betrayed you, clamping down over the cool tip of the thin object. “S’too cold!” You pleaded, voice a pathetic whine. He ignored you at first, moving it inside of you slowly, shallowly. It was enough to have your pussy aching, but not enough to hit that one spot that would have you seeing stars. It was a teasing sensation you’d never experienced before.

“Too cold? Can’t be that bad, not with the mess you’re making all over my backseat.” He twisted the baton this time sinking it in farther enough to bump against that special bundle of nerves making you keen. “You really have no sense of self preservation, do you baby? Needy pussy will slop all over anything it’s given, won’t it? At least I know you’re not hiding anything now.”

You hadn’t the capacity to refute him or spout an insult back his way, though you wanted to, badly .

He set the night stick down between your legs, not pulling it out of you. You heard the sound of rustling fabric until some warm teased against the skin of your leg. The night stick was lifted gently again, back to its painfully slow rhythm of thrusting just outside the reach of where you wanted it. Quickly you realized he’d removed his gloves, his hands so warm from being inside them his fingers nearly burned against your numbed skin. He used the middle and pointer finger of his left hand to rub agonizingly slow circles around your clit, as he worked the baton into your hole again.

Both sensations felt good, but just so… not enough . Trapped in the backseat of his car against your will, arms stinging from being stuck behind you, face pressed against the seat knowing the pattern would be smooshed into your skin by the time you were ever allowed to move again. You hated how the handsome asshole of a cop was working you up so much with his vile mocking and teasing movements. But most of all, you hated how much you wanted more . More pressure. More heat. More speed. Just more of whatever you could get.

You weren’t sure how far he was going to go with this, but not wanting to give in, you attempted to focus on everything that wasn’t him. The smell of the pine air freshener blowing throughout the car, the sound of that stupid fucking gum still going between his teeth – you even tried to close your eyes and imagine you were somewhere else. None of it worked as you were left trying to grind back against him, desperate to alleviate the tension between your thighs and desperate to get out of there. Soft whimpers echoing throughout the confines of the vehicle.

“Poor thing, you just look so miserable. You want something don’t you?” He cooed the question out, picking up the pace of the fingers on your clit, finally using them to apply pressure as he rubbed it directly. Your whole body strained against the confines you were in, tensing with pleasure, mouth opening into an ‘o’ shape. Being teased for so long, you were just on the cusp of an orgasm as he finally gave you some sweet satisfaction – before you could feel that sensation of relief he pulled his hands away stopping entirely.

“Wha-?” The disappointment in your voice despite the lack of an entire sentence was obvious.

“Ask me nicely, maybe I’ll give you a reward for being good. After all, you passed my inspection with flying colors.” He resumed what he was doing again, back to the terribly slow movements that never gave you enough satisfaction to tip you over the edge.

You refused to give in, to beg, to admit out loud that you wanted anything from him. Doing your best, you tried scoffing, voice shakily creaking from your throat. “I-I don’t want anything from you. Except to let me go!” The malice and bite you wished coated your words wasn’t there.

He laughed in response, flicking your clit lightly. “Liar. That stubborn little mouth of yours might not want to admit it, but your pretty little pussy is giving everything away.” Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to your shoulder trailing the kisses up your neck before flicking his tongue against the shell of your ear. He managed to extract another pathetic whine as he blew on the spot he licked, sending a shiver right down your spine. While he’d pulled the night stick out to use that arm to support himself over you, his remaining hand was still tucked between your legs, sloppily playing with you. Against your thigh, through his pants you could feel his hardness pressing into you. “Come on baby, you don’t need to keep up the act anymore. We both know this was your goal from the start, wasn’t it?” He sucked a bruise into the skin of your neck before placing another kiss between your shoulder blades, the way he was pressed onto you forced your arms to tense in a way that hurt. “I saw it all over your face the moment your window rolled down. Batting those pretty lashes at me, probably thought you could flirt your way out of trouble.”

“N-not true…” You squeaked out.

He sat up, pulling his hand away from you. Metal on metal and the sound of the zipper behind you told you he was freeing his erection from its confines. He let out a relieved hiss before he was back over you this time you felt his soft lips against your leg, kissing the back of your knee before trailing his tongue up your leg, the cool air drying the strip of saliva as he went before placing a kiss to your buttcheek where his hand had left a raised red mark. “No? Then why are you sobbing between the legs for me?”

He moved forward nestling the head of his weeping cock against your slit, rubbing it against your clit gently before swiping it up to your hole. He didn’t enter though, merely rubbing it around before dragging it back down – your pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation of the pleasure that wouldn’t come. “Mmm, so hot and wet.” He moaned, stroking himself as he rubbed the swollen tip against you.

A noise caught in your throat as he did it again, teasing your hole again. Frustrated tears reformed in your eyes, body hot, bothered, and screaming at you for relief. The last shell of pride you had cracked at the tantalizing idea of his thick cock stretching you open.

“P-please…” You finally choked out, quietly.

“What’s that?”

“P-please….” You repeated again, louder this time.

“Still too quiet –”

“PLEASE!” You nearly shouted this time.

“Hmm, please what? Gotta use your words, I’m not a mind reader.”

His teasing now had you more frustrated than the initial traffic stop, you were ready to sob if you had to go one more second without relief. “Please, please fuck me. Want you inside me, please.” You begged bucking your lower half up against him, hoping it would entice him to give in.

Expecting more teasing on his end you were pleasantly surprised when you felt him slip inside of you, not bothering to go slowly, slamming himself from tip to balls into your tight heat. “O-Oh.” You moaned as he pulled out, slamming back inside. Your eyes nearly rolled back as he set a fast rhythm, pounding against your sweet spot over and over again, finally giving your cunt something to clench around properly.“Oh god…fuck…” You spewed more incoherent words as you drooled against the seat. “So…fucking good.” Pleasure washed over your brain, stopping any coherent thoughts from processing.

“Look at you, dumb on my cock already and I’ve barely started fucking you. You, that desperate?” He reached over, swiping some drool from your cheek, flicking it away with his thumb. “Messy little slut, can’t help but leak from both ends, huh?”

“N-nuh uh.” You tried to protest, tongue almost falling out of your mouth as he angled his hips just right. Giving up on any further attempts of saving your ego, you attempted to speak again, wanting to feel something against your lips. Another incoherent noise came out instead.

He leaned in, slowing his hip movements. “What was that?”

“K-kiss.” You managed to get the word out. “Please.”

“Awww, not romantic enough for you sweetheart? Need some kisses too?”

You nodded, bottom lip quivering. He turned, spitting the gum outside the car before leaning forward again to connect your lips. It was rough at first, him biting your bottom lip before entangling your tongues together. You whimpered into his mouth, tasting the remnants of mint on him. He pulled away a trail of saliva connecting you before he placed a few sweeter pecks against your lips.

“Are your arms sore?” He asked running a hand over one of them as he sat back up.

“Mhm.”

“Can I trust you to be good if I take the cuffs off?”

“P-promise.”

There was stillness for a moment as there was the jangling of keys behind you. Soon your wrists were freed from the cuffs that hit the car floor, clanging together gently. You let out a relieved groan, letting one arm flop to your side as the other dangled onto the floor, shoulders stiff and sore.

The blonde kneaded his hands against your shoulder a few times to relieve the visible tension. He let you flop against the seat as he resumed his rhythm of fucking into your tight heat, leaving you babbling and whining loudly, enjoying the sensation of being split open on him.

“Perfect little pussy, just sucks me right in.” He pulled you back this time, so your ass was at a higher angle making it easier for him to slip in and out of your wet heat.

Close. You were so close to finally being tipped over the edge. White hot pleasure pricked at your vision, core aching deliciously. Almost to your peak when his voice tore through that bringing you back into the moment. “Hear that? Sounds like a car coming. Better quiet down baby, or they might come investigate. Wouldn’t wanna let them see what a little whore you are.” Despite his words he didn’t slow his pace, in fact he landed another slap against your unmarked ass cheek. “Or, maybe that’s exactly what you want, since you’re still crying like a desperate little bitch in heat. Want them to come over here and see you get fucked? Tell them what a bad girl you are, getting pulled over and getting fucked in the back of a cop car?”

“N-no….” You looked at him eyes wide. “P-please… don’t want – please.” With him pistoning into you, you couldn’t stop the noises that flew out. “P-please…oh god…” Time was running out as the headlights of the oncoming vehicle began to light up.

“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll help you out.” He leaned forward pressing two fingers into your mouth, greedily you pulled them in lapping over them with your tongue before sucking on them like a lifeline.

“Good girl.” He praised quietly into your ear. “Good fucking girl.” His own quiet grunts were becoming labored, his hip movements becoming sloppy, indicating his release was close. You turned your body so you were laying on your side more, grasping at his wrist holding his hand in place, nearly gagging on the digits.

The yellow hued light from the stream of passing cars lit up the inside of the cruiser giving you a view of the man’s face once again. His own eyes heavy with pleasure, black pupils dilated as he slowed his pace once last time to watch you suckle on his fingers as the last of the cars passed by, darkness encompassing the vehicle again before your eyes readjusted to the dimly lit roof light.

He pulled his fingers free, and brought the saliva coated hand down to rub against your clit as he picked up the pace fucking you again. He didn’t waste time taunting you, nor did he slow down, letting you fully bask in the hot waves of pleasure radiating from your sensitive pearl of nerves.

“G-god…oh god…” Your eyes rolled back as the coil of tension snapped, toes curling as your pussy clamped his cock like a vice. He groaned, fucking you through your orgasm before his hand gripped your hip with a bruising tightness, eye closing at his cock twitched, pulsing hot ropes of cum inside of you. He slowed down, thrusting just enough to ride out his own orgasm enjoying every twitch of your silky walls as he filled you up. Afterwards he braced his hand against the roof of the car to catch his breath and come down from the high of it all.

Once softened, he slowly pulled his cock out, wiping it along your thigh as he did so before tucking it back into his pants and fully standing up outside the car, stretching. “You alright?” He asked when he finally poked his head back in. He didn’t wait for your answer before tugging you towards him again, sliding your body along the seat. Pressing a kiss to the back of your still trembling legs, he hoisted your bottoms and panties back up, any leaking seed being caught by the fabric. “There we go.”

Too exhausted to move or think, you laid there like sentient jello as he readjusted you, slipping into the back seat himself so he could pull you onto his lap. Flopping against his chest, you buried your face in the crook of his neck, as he wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back with one hand.

He let you rest for a while against him in that hazy-twilight state recovering from both the mental and physicality of the ordeal. The sound of the wind whistling outside coupled with the even badump badump of his heartbeat relaxed you. The radio on his chest buzzed, a crackly voice on the other end reading out some police codes you didn’t understand. “10-4, I’ll head back to the station.” He replied. “Hear that? Looks like this stop has come to an end.”

You rubbed at your eyes, sitting up. Honestly you had no words to reply, what could you even say after all of this. The cop reached up, tucking some hair behind your ear. “You said you were lost on the way home?”

“Yeah.”

“Where were you headed?”

“Altoona.”

He nodded. “Go sit in your car for me, I’ll be over in a few.”

Not arguing, you slipped off his lap and out into the dark cold stumbling your way back over to your car, ready for the night to just be over with finally.

A few minutes went by and sure enough Officer Kennedy reappeared at your window, a piece of paper in hand. “Directions.” He said handing it to you. Before you could reply, another paper was thrust into your hands, a ticket at the top. “Have a good night, Miss.” He said, popping another piece of gum into his mouth as he disappeared back to his cruiser.

“No fucking way. After all of that, he’s still giving me a fucking ticket?” You asked out loud, eyeing the ticket paper resisting the urge to rush it in your fist. You were heated all over again, ready to punch something – until it occurred to you he never actually took your license or anything. You reached up and pressed on the ceiling light to get a better look at the ticket. The entire form was blank. “Huh?” Flipping it over in confusion you saw the penciled note. ‘Try to drive more carefully, Sweetheart. Call me if you need a tour. - Leon Kennedy’

Your jaw hung open, shocked by the utter audacity of him after all of that. You knew you should’ve shred that paper up on the spot, or reported him. Instead, for whatever reason that only god knew, you tossed it into your glove compartment before reading over the directions he’d given you. With a turn of the key into the ignition, you pulled out onto the dark road, taking off to make the trip back home.

[st4rfckerz]

wide awake thinking about carguy!anakin...

mdni 18+

anakin couldn't help but smirk as he took you with him to show off his new race car to his friends. it was a sleek and powerful machine, the result of his hard work and dedication. the adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he revved the engine, the sound of it echoing through the streets.

however, somewhere along the way, anakin's attention began to shift. his eyes couldn't help but wander, especially when he noticed the way you looked in your little outfit. his attention was especially stolen by the skirt you decided to wear. the way it hugged your curves, barely covering your thighs, ignited a fire deep inside him. he found himself stealing glances at you, his gaze filled with mischief.

you eventually make your way over to him, gently plopping yourself onto his lap. a stifled gasp escapes his lips as he feels your weight settle against him, your ass dangerously close to his quickly hardening cock.

the anticipation built with each passing moment, and his focus slipped away from the conversation. he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. his hand reached over, gently brushing against your exposed thigh.

"you're driving me crazy." he murmurs softly, the words barely audible over the surrounding chatter.

"i can tell." you retort. you decide to 'adjust' yourself on anakin's lap, purposely skimming your fingers across his slight bulge. 

realizing the intensity of the situation, anakin quickly decided to cut the night short. he needed to be alone with you. with a mischievous grin, he announced that it was time to head back home, making some excuse about needing to check on the car's performance.

as you now find yourselves alone in the car, the atmosphere becomes charged with electricity. anakin's eyes remain fixed on you, his hungry gaze scrutinizing every inch of your body. the car's engine purrs underneath you, seemingly mirroring his excitement.

"you're such a tease, you know that?" anakin growls, his voice husky and laced with need. "you have no idea what i want to do to you right now."

"i think i do." you purr. anakin's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he felt your soft lips pressing against his sensitive neck. a low, guttural groan escaped his throat as a shiver of arousal coursed through his body. he couldn't help but tilt his head slightly, allowing you better access to his neck.

the tension between you both grows almost unbearable, the anticipation reaching its limit.

anakin abruptly pulls over to a secluded spot with trees surrounding the quiet road. he turns towards you, his lips dangerously close to yours.

"i need you, i can't wait any longer," anakin leans in and captures your lips in a messy, desperate kiss. his lips are demanding, his tongue exploring your mouth with an urgency.

he breaks the kiss to speak again, "i have an idea." his eyes filled with a burning intensity as he unbuckles his seatbelt and makes his way out of the car. the cool evening air embraced your bodies as you both stood in front of the expensive car. the glossy hood beckoned, serving as an irresistible invitation. with a swift, fluid motion, anakin's strong arms encircled your waist, lifting you effortlessly and setting you gently on the hood.

the sensation of the smooth, metal surface against your bare skin sent shivers up your spine. anakin's hands, warm and full of purpose, roamed over your body, tracing the curves that drove him wild with desire. his touch left a trail of fire in its wake, igniting a primal need within both of you.

anakin's lips found yours once again in a searing kiss as his hands slid up the length of your thighs. his fingers deftly lifting up your skirt, revealing the tantalizing hint of what lay beneath. his touch was both gentle and possessive as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing your eager cunt.

his belt unbuckled with a satisfying click. anakin's eyes locked with yours, a knowing glint flickering in his gaze as he freed himself from the restraint of his jeans. with a growl of need, he slowly entered you, inch by inch, stretching and filling you completely. you instinctively wrapped your arms around anakin's neck and back, pulling him closer to you.

"fuck, you feel so good," anakin's breath hitched as he thrusts faster into you. his head hangs low, absolutely admiring the way your drooling pussy swallowed his cock so eagerly. "can't get enough of you."

anakin's thrusts grew in intensity as he continued to move within you, filling you with each powerful stroke. the pleasure that coiled within you intensified, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. as your bodies moved together as one, deep moans and gasps filled the air, mingling with the sounds of skin on skin and the rhythmic thud of your bodies meeting.

"i'm so close. please, don't stop. pleasepleaseplease." you babble mindlessly. with a tight grip on your waist, he increased the intensity of his thrusts, angling himself perfectly to hit that sweet spot that made your entire body tremble.

anakin nips at that sensitive spot on your neck before pulling back to face you, his face plastered with fake sympathy.

"gonna make a mess on my new car? hm?" he taunts, relishing in the way you squirm helplessly.

"go on then, mark it."

[tarotwithavi]

How do you inspire others?

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Keep in mind that this is a general reading, so this may or may not resonate with you. Take only what resonates and leave the rest.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

Greetings pile 1!It's clear that you've had quite a journey in life, and your vibe really motivates others to stay patient and committed to their paths. You're like a beacon of inspiration, encouraging people to fight for what they love and keep pushing forward. People see you as a well of knowledge and perhaps even as someone with abundance and wealth. Your carefree spirit is infectious, and your youthful energy is truly invigorating. It's as if you spark a spiritual awakening in those you meet, almost like you're an Earth Angel. You're a catalyst for creativity, motivating people to chase their dreams. There's a deep connection people feel with you, to the point where some might see you as a soulmate. Your influence on women is powerful; you radiate physical beauty, and when others meet you, they're inspired to put more effort into their appearance. It's not about competition, but rather a desire to emulate your style. I sense that some of you have long, flowing hair, and when women meet you, they might even consider growing out their own locks. Your grounded energy creates a magnetic pull, making people want to be around you all the time. Your presence is truly impactful.

Pile 2

Welcome pile 2! The vibes I'm picking up from you are intriguing! There's an undeniable innocence about you that draws people in, and they yearn to experience that same purity. Your influence seems to steer others towards the single life, perhaps because you inspire them to patiently wait for the perfect match. Many people around you may have had their dreams crushed, but your presence encourages kindness and a positive outlook on life. It's like you help them rediscover their souls. You motivate others to see despair as an opportunity, and your existence itself seems to cast a spell, radiating with magic. You're a catalyst for kindness and personal growth, and being around you is genuinely enlightening. You make people believe in the power of love, and you're like a sanctuary for lost souls. But it's not all sunshine and rainbows; you also inspire them to cut off toxic relationships, helping them realize their self-worth. I sense a perfect balance of fire and water energy in you, which gives you a unique ability to encourage others to step out of their comfort zones and be a little more impulsive.

Pile 3

Hey pile 3! It's clear that you lead by example and inspire others to do their best because you consistently give it your all. Your extensive list of hobbies and knowledge is like a magnet, attracting others who want to be just as well-rounded as you. You're a motivator for success, especially in work or academic settings, encouraging those around you to put their best foot forward. People feel a deep connection to you when they meet you, and it's not surprising, given your empathic abilities and your knack for sensing the energy in a room. But it's not all rainbows and sunshine; others can see the weight of responsibility you carry, and there's a sense that you're meant for some kind of generational healing. Your actions inspire people to embrace change in their lives. For instance, when you decide to chop off your long hair, it sparks a trend among the girls around you. Your willingness to try new things motivates others to take risks in their own lives. Moreover, you're a source of inspiration for a healthy lifestyle. Your dedication to eating well and taking care of your body encourages others to follow suit. You're truly a beacon of positive influence in various aspects of life.

[stardustdreams-andcaffeine]

More | Bucky Barnes (Mob AU)

mob!bucky barnes x f!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: You're the secretary to one of the most powerful mob bosses in the country, and that's what he was supposed to stay—your boss. The heart often has other plans. Now, you're in a race against time to save the life of James Barnes, the mob boss who has become so much more.

A/N: Longer one today, just as angsty as I'm used to. I write better with the more angst I do and you can't tell me any different. As always, let me know if you have any requests or comments because I love you all! Keep those dreams alive 🤍

Warnings: mob!bucky, vioence, angst, fluff throughout (because I'm really trying here), secretary!reader, mentions of past abuse in relationship, protective bucky

Word Count: 13,122

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

I have to make it. I have to.

"Come on, come on, come on," I breathe out, drumming my nails nervously against my steering wheel and peering around the car in front of me.

He's not answering his phone. I have to make it in time.

I take my lip between my teeth, the anxiety in my chest only rising as each second ticks by. Finally I swear under my breath and swerve around the car before me, slamming the gas pedal to the floor. A chorus of honks rises around me but I don't care. All I know is that he's going to die.

My boss is going to die if I don't make it.

You may be wondering to yourself, how did a meagerly-paid secretary end up breaking traffic laws and nearly crashing her boss's brand new Tesla just to get to him in time? Why would I even bother? Why would his life be in danger in the first place?

Well, to understand that, I'm going to have to take you back to where my life of crime began.

If my mother ever heard I had a life of crime, she'd kill me herself, so let's keep this one between us.

|||

2 Years Prior

"I'm sorry sir, but you don't have an appointment and Mr. Barnes is full for today," I repeat, quickly losing my ever-bearing patience with the brash business man before me.

His eyes dart around my desk and to the office of my boss, CEO James Barnes. I've only worked here for a few months and yet being his personal secretary is proving more difficult than I imagined.

"Look sweetheart, just let me through and I won't take but a few minutes of his time," the man pushes, not even sparing me a glance as he walks around my desk. I shoot to my feet and step in his way, not hearing the office door open behind me.

"You can either see yourself out, or I can have someone help you. Either way, sir, you're not seeing Mr. Barnes today." I assert, my heart pounding and blood boiling in indignation.

If there's one thing I've learned in my time working in Corporate America, it's that most rich and powerful men think they're so far above the rest of the world that they're entitled to open doors wherever they go. Thankfully, my boss is one of the better ones.

Definitely better than this tool in front of me. I almost scoff in disbelief when the man goes to step around me again.

"You don't scare me, sweetheart. I'm just gonna-"

I step directly in front of his path, my eyes flashing with anger.

"Either you leave right now, or I'll personally make sure you'll never get a time slot with my boss. And it's Ms. Y/L/N, not sweetheart" I grit out, standing my ground and leveling my glare at the man.

"Who do you think you-"

I feel the warmth of his presence before he even says a word.

"Do you feel a need for career-suicide, or are you just incompetent?" A dark, rough voice sounds behind me, cutting off the business man.

As my boss steps beside me, the heat of his presence washes over me and I don't even need to look over to know that his menacing face is on display. I can see it's impact in the business man's sudden desire to leave.

"Uh, I-I am so sorry sir. I'll be on my way."

As he scurries to the elevator, I feel my cheeks heat as I look over at James. His dark hair is cut short but is left long enough to be perfectly messy. His bright blue eyes are already piercing into my exhausted ones.

"Sorry for the commotion, sir. I'll try to handle them quicker next time," I start, but my nerves are lessened by the slightly impressed look upon James' features.

"I've never seen you get angry before," my boss notes, making more heat crawl up my neck.

"Yeah well, I used to let everyone use me as their doormat, but I don't let people walk all over me anymore." I respond with half of a laugh. He hums at that, his eyes trained on me.

I break the contact first, turning around suddenly to my desk to avoid the way his eyes seem to burn the air between us to nothing.

"Miss Y/L/N, can I have a word with you in my office?" He speaks again after a few agonizing moments of silence. My hands freeze and I slowly turn around to find his gaze inquisitive.

"Of course, boss" I reply, clasping my hands together to hide the way they tremble slightly. James Barnes is quite possibly the most terrifying person I've ever met, and yet the more time I spend in this job the less he scares me.

When follow his gesture to walk before him to his office, he slips his hand to the small of my back as I enter and I swear my skin sets on fire. I hurry away from his touch and into a chair as fast as I can. There's a slight hint of amusement upon his features as he settles back in his massive chair, eying me from across the desk.

"Is...is everything alright, sir?" I question after a minute of the thick silence. He sits straighter at this, leaning his forearms on his desk and clasping his hands together.

"Do you have a criminal record, Miss Y/L/N?"

His question startles me so much that it takes me a moment to respond.

"I'm...sorry?" I question, not understanding where this is going.

"Anything at all," James continues as if I didn't say a word, "Petty theft, aggravated assault, murder-"

"Sir I definitely don't have a criminal record," I cut in, my heart beginning to increase in speed. James nods, his blue eyes pinning me to the spot.

"Good, that makes you unsuspecting," he states, only heightening my confusion, "In order for you to be of best use, not to mention safe, it's best if you know exactly what it is that I do."

I sit completely dumbstruck and left with no response at all. My mouth opens and closes as I search for words, but I can't seem to find any.

"You've got a backbone and you're an honest, hard worker. That, you've proven. And, against my better judgement," Barnes pauses, his gaze taking on a somewhat softer, almost vulnerable gaze, "I trust you, Y/N."

My heart leaps into my throat and something stirs within me when he says that...that word. Y/N. My name. He said my name for the first time since he hired me. I don't know why it has such an effect on me, but it does.

Before I can stop myself, I blurt "I trust you too."

I do? When did I make that decision? And why did I just say it out loud?

Something in my boss's face shifts at my words, but he masks it with his usual cool, calm demeanor. He sits again in silence for a moment, taking in me and my response before he nods.

"The business I run is more lucrative than what the surface shows. I need someone on my side on the surface level, an associate who can assist me in matters at this office."

"This office?" I repeat, my brows furrowing together as my heart begins to race again. What does he mean by lucrative? And why is there excitement bubbling in my gut?

What he says next would change my life forever.

"I'm the White Wolf, Y/N." my boss's low voice rumbles, his eyes bright and clear, "I'm the-"

"King of organized crime, ruler of the New York mob," I interrupt, my eyes wide and my entire being not comprehending what's happening. I should leave. I should quit this job and call the police and leave. I should be terrified. But there's something in those eyes...

What I say next would start that life of crime I mentioned earlier, and quite frankly I still don't fully understand where it came from within me.

"Sure," I simply say, and the shock that splays on James' face must mirror my own.

"Sure as in..." he trails off, waiting for me to elaborate and clarify what we both know I mean. I swallow down my nerves and go with the decision my entire head is screaming against but my entire gut yells louder for.

"I'm in," I say, this time with more confidence, "Like I said before, I trust you. And I get the feeling you'd kill me if I said no."

Humor traipses across his features as he sits back in his chair in surprise. He plays with the ring in his finger, nodding slightly to me.

"That went better than planned," he murmurs, and I don't know why but I feel like smiling. My entire body is buzzing and my head is swimming, but something deep inside of me is waking up.

I've been walked all over my entire life. That's just the way it's been. I didn't know the difference between being nice and being a doormat for people's convenience until I was well into my life. As much as I hate to admit it, there's something about James Barnes that I trust, there has been since the day I met him. I felt it pull deep in my soul and now, knowing what he does and who he is...

It's time I control my fate, time that I grab my destiny and force it into motion. It's time that I stop letting people walk all over me and be the person who has a voice and a say and...and power. I've heard of the White Wolf as long as he's been around. He may be ruthless but he is not cruel. He's always looked out for the city, taken the scum off the streets and done the things the politicians refuse to. I trust James. And something deep within me is shouting that this is right, that this my destiny, that this is the strings of fate pulling.

And I know when to listen.

"Welcome, Ms. Y/L/N," James announces, standing and keeping his gaze burning down on mine, "To the real business."

|||

Seven months later.

One night, about seven months after the conversation that absolutely changed my life, I'm working overtime in the office.

My hands are dug into my hair and my eyes droop closed. I release my hold on my hair to knock back the last of an energy drink, but the liquid has little effect. I desperately read through the computer screen, hoping to solve the legal entanglement before me.

James informed me when I came into work this morning that some over-righteous beat-cop was looking too much into the business we hide behind our Property Management company. I've been here all day long trying to figure out how to file all the necessary forms to make this disappear and seem a joke. That's taken longer than I expected, though, and at nearly midnight, James and I are still here working.

"God, this is awful," I groan, dropping my head to rest on my arms upon my desk, my forehead seeping in the cool of the wood. I hear my boss's office door open but don't even bother moving. Eventually, a soft laugh sounds that makes me drag my head up and look over to its origin.

"You look absolutely pitiful" James comments, his tired eyes dancing with a humor that seeps into my own features slowly. A small smile tugs at my lips as I sit up fully.

"Thanks, that's what I was going for," I quip sarcastically.

He coughs out a laugh that makes my chest tighten slightly and some of the exhaustion part. Over the months working for the White Wolf of crime, we've become...friends. Well, as close to friends as a mob boss and his secretary can get.

"Come on, let's take a break. We've been at this for too long, I don't even know how you can think straight," James mentions. I shake my head, blinking a few times before turning back to the computer screen.

"No, I've almost got this loophole figured out and we'll be golden if I can just-" I'm cut off abruptly by a strong, calloused hand gently gripping my chin and turning it up so I'm looking at James. My heart gallops suddenly and it takes every ounce of strength to keep my composure against the charge coursing through me.

"Y/N, take a break," he mumbles so soft that a shiver runs down my spine. We stay locked like that for a moment until I nod and pull myself out of his grip by standing.

"Alright" I murmur, breaking the tense, charged moment by pointing a finger at him.

"But if you bring out alcohol on the job, so help me James Barnes I'll turn you in to the police myself," I threaten emptily. He laughs genuinely this time, and it warms my spirit.

"Come on, doll. I've got an idea" he urges, walking out to the massive open save before my desk. I eye him warily and step to it, hoping that the sudden skittering and tripping of my heart at that nickname doesn't show. He's never called me anything but my name, before. Now, it's almost too easy to forget that I work for him.

"You might wanna take your heels off," he suggests, which only heightens my confusion. Nonetheless, I slip the footwear off and walk barefoot in my pant suit to my boss.

"Should I be concerned?" I ask, bringing another humored glint to those beautiful steel eyes.

"No," Barnes says simply, my eyes darting to his forearms as he rolls up the sleeves of his button-up, "I've actually been meaning to do this for a while. You're working for me in a very dangerous business, and although your involvement is kept a secret, I want you to be able to defend yourself if anything goes wrong."

His words settle over me heavily as I shrug my  close-tailored suit jacket off and lay it on my desk. This is actually a smart idea. I sure don't want to be helpless should the time come and, lets be honest, it inevitably will.

"Okay," I reply, walking warily in front of my boss who's practically made of muscle, "Teach me."

Something dark floods his eyes that he blinks away quickly before holding his hands up in a fighting position, gesturing for me to do so. I oblige, putting my fists up in the best way I can. He walks over to me, slowly taking a few steps around my body to inspect my stance.

"Not bad," Barnes announces before stepping close to my side and placing those large hands against my torso and turning it slightly, "There, like that you can use the power you have against someone who might have a lot more than you."

His touch muddles my mind and I can't help but feel that his burning hands linger for a second longer than necessary before he steps away and back in front of me. Even as he does, I instantly feel like I'm missing something without his warmth. It's been that way since I began working here, though. Every little touch here and there has gotten me irrevocably addicted to the feel of him.

I'm so startled by the thought that it almost shows on my face. That train of thinking is...is highly unprofessional.

"Now, punch me" he orders. I hesitate, but don't lower my fists.

That's also unprofessional, and yet look at us.

"Are you sure?" I ask, and he simply nods. I shrug, "Alright then."

I throw the best punch I've got, but he dodges it easily and grabs my fist in his hand. Before I know what's happening, his leg hooks around my vulnerable one that I stepped with and he throws the momentum of my punch back at me so that I crash to the ground. I know that if he'd done that little move fully my back would've slammed into the ground along with my skull. Instead, he follows me to the ground and wraps an arm around my waist, breaking my fall and easing me to the ground as he hovers above me.

I know he means to say something, but words must die for him too when the all too small space between our bodies is realized. I can barely breathe and it's as if time itself has stopped. I watch his fingers flex on the floor by my head, almost as if he's going to reach out to me but chooses against it. All too soon, the moment is broken when James stands and extends a hand down to me. I take it and let him pull me up to standing, disappointment and relief mingling in my stomach.

"That move can save your life, especially against someone bigger than you." James says, a little bit more distantly than he was before.

I thank him quietly and watch him clear his throat and walk back to his office. He pauses when he reaches the door and looks back over at me.

"Y/N, I want you home in an hour tops." He orders. I nod, still slightly breathless.

"And if I stay longer?" I taunt, not even knowing where the words come from. He tilts his head at me, a challenging gaze taking over.

"Then I'll throw you over my shoulder and walk you out myself."

I almost think he means it from the mischief lingering in his gaze.

Sure enough, I go home an hour later.

|||

Five months later

It wasn't until about a year after I joined in on the mob business that I realized how well I was beginning to know James.

And how much more he was becoming to me.

"Y/N, can you get me-"

I cut off my boss by setting down two steaming coffee cups.

"Two triple espressos with low fat cream," I announce, before fishing the folder out from underneath my arm and setting it on the desk before him, "And the monthly finance report. The guys in finance weren't finished when I came by yesterday, so I made sure they had it done for this morning's meeting."

James stares up at me in shock for a moment. That shock is still lingering when he says, "And the meeting schedule?"

"Already in your computer, I emailed it to you last night. I also sent it out to everyone who's coming and made sure to tell Mr. Martinelli 10:30 instead of 11:00 so he arrives on time." I respond, clasping my hands before me and giving my boss a light smile.

"Oh," I exclaim, turning around suddenly and picking up the package I left by his door, "And this gift basket came with a heartfelt apology from Mr. Lankov. It did have an assortment of toffee-filled chocolates which I went ahead and removed for you."

Mr. Barnes reaches over and slides the basket I set down on his desk towards himself before looking up at me. He looks almost impressed, which is high praise enough.

"Will that be all, Mr. Barnes?" I ask when he just stares at me for another minute. I feel my entire body burning under his gaze and, as usual, the air is thick and palpable whenever we're in a room alone. His gaze hardens again into the cold, meticulous mob boss he is and he nods once

"That'll be all, thank you Ms. Y/L/N."

I nod and turn to walk out only to be stopped by his voice calling out to me again.

"Y/N?" James announces, making me turn to him again. I don't know what I expect him to say, but it certainly isn't what comes from him, "I think you are too close of a friend to be calling me James and Mr. Barnes by now."

My heart stutters, but I keep the emotion that surges from his words from splaying all across my face. He considers me a close friend, not just his secretary. When did it ever become more?

When did I ever convince myself it wasn't more.

"What would you like me to call you?" I ask, and the question seems all too formal. The corner of his lips tug up and the movement makes my stomach flip.

"Most of the people closest to me just call me Bucky," he informs, and a rush thrills my entire body as I nod and try to keep my smile small.

"If you need anything else let me know, Bucky." I reply, and something darkens in his gaze.

I'm frozen for another moment, his stare binding me to where I am. Phantom electricity skitters across my limbs and I realize how much I have to restrain myself from walking closer to him. It's almost as if he's the Earth and I'm the moon, caught in his gravity and unable to pull away, All at once I come to my senses and leave his office quicker than usual. I make sure the door is shut behind me before I press my back up against the cool surface.

My heart is pounding in my chest. That was too personal, that was all too personal and wildly unprofessional. Nothing that was said was but the way he looked at me, the way I melted in my spot at that gaze. It was all consuming, and I didn't think I could breathe in that room. He's a mob boss, my mob boss, and I'm his secretary. James...Bucky is naturally a brooding, intense sort of person so the way he looked at me wasn't unusual. The way my entire being reacted was.

And he's so much more than my boss, no matter how much I may try to ignore it.

As the day goes by, I try to rationalize it all. In the end, I know everything there is to know about him—what he likes and dislikes, his routines, his daily patterns. It's my job to, but he doesn't know that about me.

If he did he'd know that today is my...

I think that same thing over and over to comfort myself that everything is normal and okay, but it only just makes a part of me sink. It's almost as if the thought that I'm not more to him has the potential to break me.

You can only be broken by things that hold you.

I'm jarred from that thought when Bucky's voice sounds over my business phone speaker.

"Y/N, my office" He says simply, his voice holding that natural authority and sharp edge that it usually has.

I get up and am walking into his office moments later. Once I'm inside, I take notice that Bucky's hard at work on some document before him and doesn't even spare me a glance until the door clicks shut behind me. At this sound, he looks up and sets down his pen. He stands slowly and adjusts the cuffs of his suit jacket. That small movement sends my entire body into a downward spiral.

"You tried to hide something from me, Y/N," Bucky rumbles, and my stomach hits the floor.

I did? What did I try to hide?

"Sir, I'm not entirely sure what-"

My word die out as he stalks around his desk and up to me. My entire body is trembling, but not from fear, when he stops before me and stares at me so deeply that I feel like he's taken my heart straight from my chest with his bare hands. I'm not so sure he hasn't.

"It was a valiant effort, really," he muses, and I still have no idea what he's talking about, "But even if I only know you half as well as you know me, there was no way you could've hidden it."

My brows are furrowed when he finally reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out an envelope.

"Happy birthday, Y/N," My boss whispers, and the moment feels all too intimate as he hands me the envelope.

He knew it was my birthday. That thought sends a thrill through me that I wish I could forget. I look down at the envelope and back up at Bucky who stares at me with the hint of a genuine smile on his lips.

"You didn't have to..." I whisper, but he gives me a 'really' sort of look.

"You do everything for me, and I'm pretty sure my world would fall apart without you. Now open it."

That only makes my heart race harder and I can't keep away my smile as I open the envelope. Everything seems to fade away when I pull out what's inside. There's no card, just a single slip of paper. When I flip that paper over, I realize that I'm in love with him.

Because it's a round-trip ticket to Kinsale, Ireland. A place I mentioned only once months ago that I've always wanted to go to.

I look up at him, my eyes wide and already filling with tears that I refuse to let go.

"How did you know?" I breathe.

"You said it was one of your dreams to go, and it's hard to forget when you speak about something so passionately." Bucky's reply softer than I've ever heard him be.

I've seen him kill people, torture criminals, and threaten politicians. I've seen him command his mob and rule with certainty and ruthlessness. And yet here he is, giving me one of my dreams because I mentioned it once.

I love him. I know it then, and I don't think I'll ever escape it. I've loved before, but never has it felt like this. This is encompassing and devouring and scary. It's real and deep and world-shifting. How much in love I realize I am with him is the kind of love I never thought I'd get. And yet...

I know it's unprofessional, but I can't stop from stepping forward and getting on my tip toes to wrap my arms around his neck in a sudden hug. He freezes, and for a moment I wonder how long it's been since he's been hugged. Bucky gives in almost instantly and wraps his strong arms around my torso, tugging me closer to him. I decide in this moment that this is my favorite place to be. Kinsale might have been one of my dream places, but this, in his arms, has just as quickly topped the list.

All too quickly I realize the intimacy of this position and pull away, no matter how much it leaves me feeling cold and alone.

"Thank you," I whisper, clearing my throat and taking a step back, "No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

Bucky just stares at me with that all-encompassing gaze.

"Then they're all idiots," he murmurs, and my traitorous heart surges again.

This man is my boss. He's the most powerful person in this city and the last thing he'll do is care about someone as powerless as me. And yet...and yet, and yet, and yet. I can't stop.

|||

Eleven months later.

Eleven months later and I'm still just as totally screwed.

I can't stop the feelings that bubble through me, that take me over and encompass everything I am and hoped I could escape. I tried convincing myself he was nothing, tried to fall for someone else, anyone else, but I can't.

James Bucky Barnes is intoxicating in the most wonderful and awful way. And I can't quit him.

That's why I'm here at Angel's Fall, the bar every corporate associate and beat cop or detective in our slice of town finds themselves at after work. I haven't been in a while, not much liking the smell or taste of alcohol, but after spending nearly ten straight hours with Bucky that serve as a reminder that I'll never have him, I needed to take the edge off.

"Anything else I can get for you, babes?" The bartender asks as she takes a stop in front of me, giving me a friendly smile. I return the gesture and let out a long sigh, finishing out the last of my whiskey sour.

"Scotch, straight," I request, giving her a tired smile, "Thanks."

"Sure thing," she replies, instantly beginning to make my drink, "You seem like you've had a long day."

I scoff, running a hand through the hair that I freed from my low bun, "Long few months."

"That bad, huh? Well I'll keep these going till you say when, sweetie," she replies, sliding my drink to me. I give her another quiet thanks before she leaves to her job.

"Y/N? Y/N is that you?"

I furrow my brows, not putting the voice to a face. I turn towards the sound of the man to find him standing beside me. Once my eyes land on his features, my entire being runs cold. Instantly what little alcohol I had in my system sobers out and my blood freezes in my veins. It's as if I've been dunked in ice water and I find it hard to draw in breath.

"Ian. It's been ages" I comment, my voice thankfully not trembling like I expected it to be. Ian laughs before me, leaning on the bar and drinking me in with his eyes. I squirm under his gaze, which only serves to make me uncomfortable.

"Damn right," he comments, smirking at me lazily with that smile that wrecked my life nearly three years ago, "I've missed you, baby."

I bristle at the nickname, my heart flinching even if my body doesn't. I know he's probably missed me, I had to move to a new state to escape him the first time. I thought I'd done good, too. I'd gotten settled here for a while and then worked my way up to a job at Bucky's company. The past almost two years in Bucky's business have been so good for me that I almost forgot my life before it, the reason why I was so ready to take on the life of organized crime.

The reason stands before me, proof that our demons never die. They just hide away until we're vulnerable again.

"What are you doing in New York?" I ask, trying to make polite small talk and avoid the obvious elephant in the room.

The elephant being that the last time I saw him, I smashed a lamp over his head before I scrambled out of his apartment and to the nearest cab that whisked me far far away, leaving behind all of my belongings except for a wad of twenties and my cellphone.

"I got a transfer to a firm a few blocks from here not too long ago. God, you look great Y/N," Ian averts. He says my name again, almost as if he can't believe I'm standing before him. I nod, wringing my wrists and shoving my forgotten drink away from me.

"That's great, Ian." I keep it simple, knowing that if I talk too much I'll lose myself again. I spend my mental energy searching the thickening crowd of people for a way out. I even consider signaling the bartender that I need an escape.

I'm barred from my thoughts when his hand, a hand I'll never forget, skims over my arm. I jerk my attention back to him, ripping my arm away from him as fast as I can and taking a step back.

"Woah, calm down baby. No need to be so jumpy" Ian placates, that same easy, manipulative smile that would bring me crawling right back to him every time stretching across his features. It makes my blood turn to ice and my stomach roil.

"Do not touch me," I command, surprised at the strength in my tone. It's a strength I didn't have before I got this job, "You lost that right long ago."

Ian's shock is not easily hidden. He realizes in that instant that I'm not the same girl I was three years ago when he broke me and used me and ruled my emotions. I've grown and gotten stronger because someone saw the potential in me to handle power with ease, to be a part of something bigger and stronger than anything I'd been in before. It may shatter me to be around Bucky every day, but he still saved my life in ways he'll never know.

I used to see the world as good and evil, black and white. Now, after my work in the mafia, I know it's gray. There's evil in the good and good in the evil. No one is ever truly both, and sometimes the ones you think are the villains are truly the heroes.

"I-" Ian cuts himself off with a surprised laugh, his eyes incredulous upon me, "I'm sorry, when did you convince yourself of that lie?"

"What lie?" I grit out, and I almost slap myself for indulging him. I'm quickly unhinging, though, and I know that if I stay in this conversation much longer I'll break back into a remnant of who I was. I try to swallow my bile at the thought. I refuse to do that.

"The lie that you're strong. The lie that you can survive in your own, the lie that you'll be anything or anyone without me," Ian seethes, his words sickly sweet like unsuspecting poison. His words cut me so deep that I almost shatter right there as old wounds I thought had scarred over rip open. Instead, I remind myself of the strength and control I've garnered these last two years working for Bucky Barnes.

And then I slap my ex so hard across the face that my hand stings.

"I am not some helpless little girl that's still in love with you," I grit out, my tone sharper than I've ever heard it before, "You broke me once, you are not going to do it again."

His shocked eyes are so wide upon me that I almost don't register his hand raising to strike me back until my head whips hard to the side and pain explodes across my cheek. When I snap my gaze back to him, my eyes brimming with tears of rage and instability, I see him open his mouth to say something. His words don't make it out.

Not before the crowd of patrons splits and a hand closes around Ian's throat so fast and with such force that his back is slammed into the bar.

Oh, I must've forgotten to mention this before. The Angel's Fall is one of the bars the White Wolf owns.

And here the wolf is himself.

I'm so shocked by Bucky's sudden intrusion that I'm left speechless as his grip tightens on Ian's throat and he brings his face that's flooded with an icy rage close to Ian's clearly terrified one. No one lifts a finger to protest or stop my boss, because they all know who this place belongs to.

"You touch her again and I'll kill you," Bucky growls lowly, and Ian is smart enough to believe him as he nods quickly.

Something warm and bright twists in my chest at his words, even when I know any normal person would be screaming or calling the cops. I've never seen Bucky like this before, not about me at least. About his business, sure. But not me.

"When I let go, you're going to leave this bar and this city," my boss commands, his tone leaving no room for negotiation, "If I ever see you again, I will not hesitate to slit your throat."

Ian whimpers, a sound that I hadn't realized would bring me so much wicked joy, a sound that satisfies the thirst for vengeance that I hadn't even realized I held.

"Now, thank me for my mercy and apologize to Ms. Y/L/N," Bucky orders, his grip loosening enough on Ian's airways to let him gasp out the commanded words.

Once he does, Bucky lets him go. His hand isn't off of Ian's neck for two seconds before my ex-boyfriend is scurrying out of the bar. The noises resume as usual, everyone carrying on as if a man's life was not just threatened. Bucky turns his gaze, still filled with that icy rage, towards me and it softens in a way that melts me.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

I avoid the question completely, hoping he'll forget to inquire about it again.

"Thanks for that," I manage out, ignoring the burning of my now very tender cheek, "I honestly thought I had it under control but then I just had to go and slap him."

"That gives him no right to lay a hand on you," Bucky asserts, taking a step closer to me and running a gentle, calloused hand over my hurt cheek. The simple motion sends electricity surging through my entire body and I somehow feel empty when he clenches his jaw and drops his hand.

"You didn't answer my question. Are you okay?" Bucky asks again, not taking a step back.

My heart is pounding and my body is overrun with so many different emotions that I don't know what to focus on or how to stop it all. I may be looking directly into those steel blue eyes, but I'm miles and years away. Memories of Ian and a version of me I often try to forget flash through my mind and I can't stop them.

"Who said you could parade yourself around like a whore when you are mine?" Ian growls out, making me flinch back and wrap an arm around my torso.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

My head whips to the side with the force of his hand. The sting sets in with the silence for a few moments, suffocating me and drowning me in my own pain. Then I hear him sigh and walk up to me, his hands now gentle as he turns my face up to his.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to do that, can you forgive me?" His words are sweet and his eyes genuinely sad. I look up at him warily and almost pull away when that breathtaking smile tugs onto his lips.

"For me, baby? I promise I'll never lay a hand on you again. I don't deserve you"

"Okay" I whisper, letting him kiss my lips and then the cheek that he'd hit again and again and again and as long as I'd keep forgiving him.

I don't even realize I'm not at the bar anymore until there's a soft click of a door behind me and I register a warm, strong hand encasing my own as Bucky leads me into what looks to be an office in the back of the bar.

I hadn't even realized I'd zoned out. I haven't done that in...in a very long time.

He lets go of my hand only to capture my face in his surprisingly gentle hold. When my eyes meet his, everything seems to quiet in the blue of his irises. Still, my mind is aching to send me back to three years ago, to broken bottles and shattered hearts patched with false kisses and pretty words.

"You're safe," Bucky assures, his face softer than I've ever seen it, "You're safe and you're here. I don't know where you went just now but I need you to come back to me, okay?"

Bucky's soothing voice brings me back to reality and grounds me to the moment until all that's left is this room and him and me.

"That's it, there you go, doll. Stay right here with me," he breathes, making my heart flutter. We stand in silence like that for a few moments that stretch for eternity, with his thumbs running across my cheeks until the consciousness returns to my gaze.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" Bucky asks, taking a step back and pulling his hands from my face. I almost make a noise of protest at the loss of contact, but stop myself. Instead, I just shrug.

"It was nothing, really. Just an ex of mine who doesn't know boundaries," I respond, but I can tell that he doesn't buy a word of it.

Bucky takes a slow step towards me again. This time when I tilt my head up to keep his gaze, something tender and almost tangible crackles in the air between us, tugging and pulling and yanking us together. In the steel of his eyes is a dichotomy of emotions, ranging from a breaking softness to a stifled rage that I don't think is directed at me. It sends shivers racing down my spine.

"Y/N," he starts, and my knees almost turn weak at that one utterance, "I think you're not telling me because you know what I'll do. But I need you to understand something before you leave this room and we go back to our daily routine."

One of his hands hooks under my chin, and his thumb grazes ever so lightly over my lip and so swiftly that I almost think I imagined it.

"I don't care who I have to kill or what I have to do. I will do anything if it means protecting you. Anything." He vows, that rage still lit in his eyes. But when I look closer, it seems to be fueled by something so much deeper, so much richer.

I don't know why the words slip past my lips but it does before my mind can stop them.

"Ian manipulated me for years," my voice is trembling and unsure and so unlike every other time I've spoken with him, "He'd use me as his punching bag and then cry on his knees for me. I was stupid then, I always came crawling back. It wasn't until this job that I learned to stand up for myself."

Bucky's entire body is as rigid as a board and I know that look in his eyes. It's the look that appears when he grows unhinged and closer to losing himself to the rage and carnal violence. His jaw clenches and he seems to compose himself.

"What do you want me to do to him?"

It's a simple question, but in his eyes I can see what Bucky wants to do. I can see it as clear as day and it sets my entire being on fire. I choke up, though, because as much as I want to open my mouth and ask for him to kill him, I can't seem to. He sees my hesitancy and nods, taking a step back from me and adjusting his suit.

"Just let me know, Y/N," Bucky states, sounding more professional again as he turns and heads towards his office door.

A sudden sense of urgency overtakes me and I dart forward, grabbing a gentle but insistent hold of his arm that makes Bucky freeze and turn back to me. His arm is in my grasp and I realize that I'm holding on to it for a sense of stability as I try to get the words out. I think he realizes it too because Bucky lets me hold his arm, his eyes boring into mine and that professionalism dropping for a moment. I open my mouth, but close it again, my entire being trembling as flashes of every horror I endured with Ian overtake me.

"I want him gone," I finally manage out, my voice barely more than a whisper, "Please,"

Bucky's eyes search my face for a moment before a certain softness overtakes his gaze. I can see in his eyes that he knows exactly what I mean, even if I can't say the words out loud. He pulls his arm from my grasp only to take a hold of my hand and bring it to his lips. My heart nearly explodes from my chest when he places a kiss to the top of my hand. My skin is ignited where his lips touched it and I almost can't think straight.

God, I'm so in love him. I love him so much it hurts.

"Done." Bucky vows, his eyes never leaving mine.

Ian's mutilated body turned up in an alleyway the next morning.

|||

Two weeks later

I don't know how everything could have gone so wrong only a few weeks later. It all just happened so fast.

"Yes sir, the catering should arrive about 7:00 pm...yes sir, thank you sir. See you then,"

Once the phone is hung up, I take the pen from behind my ear and check off the catering company from my list of gala preparations. In just a few days, the company is going to be holding its annual Employee and Beneficiary Gala. My last few days have been consumed with making sure it runs seamlessly.

"Excuse me, miss. I have a 3:15 with Mr. Barnes." A man's voice I don't recognize calls out to me.

I look up from my paper, smiling warm at the business man who stands before me. My smile falls slightly when I see that he doesn't seem all too happy at the moment, but I set it aside.

"Yes, Mr..." I pause, looking over at my computer screen and scanning for his name, "Stark?"

"That's me." Mr. Stark responds.

"Alright. I'll let Mr. Barnes know that you're here and you should be right in," I inform, giving the man a polite nod before calling Bucky. While I inform him that his appointment is here, I can't help the uneasiness in my chest at Mr. Stark's grave expression.

"You can go on in," I inform once I get off the phone, giving the man a quick smile before turning back to my work, my entire being crawling for some reason.

The meeting's normal for the first few minutes, but pretty quickly their voices begin to raise.

"You need to be careful, Barnes! Pierce and his men are looking for any in to attack our organization."

Alexander Pierce, that's the boss of Bucky's largest rival—Hydra.

"Trust me, Stark. I am careful and perfectly capable of taking care of my business." Bucky grits back. I lift my hands off my keyboard, my attention slipping to listening to the words.

"No, you're not, you're being reckless. You're getting too close and you know it! She is a weakness!" Stark practically shouts. I hear a sudden screech of chair legs on the floor and a brief silence.

Whatever is said next is too hushed for me to hear, but I'm able to catch the last few words.

"I'll take care of it. You know I will," Bucky says, and the office door opens.

"I know you will, buddy. I just needed to get you there," Stark replies, shaking Bucky's hand before turning and walking past my desk without so much of a glance.

"Have a nice day to you too," I whisper beneath my breath.

"Ms. Y/L/N, my office" Bucky says abruptly from his office. His tone seems...almost cold, unfeeling. And he called me Ms. Y/L/N.

With furrowed brows, I get up and make my way into his office, closing the door behind me per his request. I settle down in one of the chairs before his massive desk, an inexplicable worry washing over me. Nonetheless, I ignore the feeling and carry on as normal. Thinking this to be one of the many previous briefings we've had on the gala, I begin to give him my report.

"The catering company is all set for Saturday as is the decorating committee and half-orchestra. All that's left is to-"

"I'm letting you go." Bucky interrupts suddenly, his voice so nonchalant and his gaze so flippantly down on the papers before him that I almost don't register his words.

As in...he's...firing me?

"I'm...sorry?" I question, to which his jaw clenches tightly.

"You are formerly fired, Ms. Y/L/N. Effective immediately," Bucky clarifies, and it feels as though the floor's been ripped out from underneath me.

I can barely breathe let alone hear over the sudden roaring in my ears. He's firing me, after all this time?

"Bucky, I don't-"

"Sir," he interrupts, finally snapping his gaze up to mine. His tone and glare are so ferocious that I almost think he'll pull a gun on me anytime soon.

That one simple correction makes my heart shatter. He hasn't been 'sir' in I don't even know how long. And the way he's looking at me right now...it's almost like he couldn't loathe anyone more in the moment. Like he doesn't even know me. Like he didn't just kill a man for me.

Like he didn't let me fall in love with him.

Tears burn my eyes as I steel my face and straighten up in the chair, clenching my hands so hard together in my lap that they turn white.

"Sir," the word is bitter on my tongue and I feel sick to my stomach more so than I ever have, "May I ask why?"

"Your work is sloppy and your intentions with my business, both legal and not, are undecipherable. I have decided that the best intention for me and my business is to part ways irrevocably with you, Ms. Y/L/N."

It takes everything within me to not let my mouth drop open in shock. The hurt that flashes through me is so piercing and raw and real that it arrests my chest. I can't...I don't know what I did wrong.

"You're just going to let me walk away," I breathe, my jaw clenched tightly, "With everything I know about you and your mob. You've killed people for less."

His cold, calculating eyes study me for a minute before he leans back in his chair, his features the picture of nonchalance.

"You won't tell anyone. You and I both know I wouldn't hesitate to kill everyone you love and then you." Bucky informs blatantly.

That's when my heart splinters. Because I can see in his eyes that he means every single word. Emotion blocks my throat as I simply stare back at him, no longer working to hide my shock or pain. I nod once and I stand, smoothing out my silk blouse.

"I've lost everyone I love, you're out of luck there."

The lie burns so strongly on my tongue that it nearly makes me physically sick. I say it to make it true, to trick my mind and heart into believing it. I should hate him. I should loathe him with every fiber of my being. But I just...can't.

With tears that I refuse to let fall swimming in my eyes, I stare down at the man who changed my life, who stole my heart and is now breaking it.

"Whatever it is that you've been relentlessly pursuing these past years, whether it's power or money or blood," I whisper, not daring to bring my voice above it for fear that it will shake, "I hope you find it."

Bucky's gaze bores into mine, something unreadable that's nearly akin to conflict flashing through his eyes. Without a word, I turn and leave, stopping only at my desk to grab my things before leaving. Leaving this office, leaving the mob, leaving him.

And as I drive home with silent tears streaking down my cheeks, I can't ignore the gaping, pain-filled hole in my heart. I hadn't realized how much I needed that business, that man. But I have to move on. I have to.

And yet, I have this awful feeling that I'm not going to be able to.

|||

A few days later

It's the day of the gala, and it's all I can do to keep myself composed.

I've been an emotional wreck the last few days, and as much as I've tried to deny it I can't any longer. I'm in love with Barnes, I have been for a while and as bad as I want it to, it's not just going to go away. Losing the job was like losing Bucky, and I hadn't realized how much I leaned on him until he was ripped away.

"Oh come on, you stupid computer," I grumble, shoving my laptop aside as it launches into an update I didn't ask for.

When I woke up today, I decided it was time I start looking for another job. No matter how much it hurts, I have to move on if I have any chance of continuing on with my life. I was job searching when this piece of junk laptop started to reboot.

My attention is glued to my television and the show I have playing while I wait for my laptop to finish the update. I get so engrossed in the show that I almost miss it when the screen goes bright and it turns back on.

"Finally," I breathe, pulling it back to me and typing in my password.

As soon as it opens to my desktop, my laptop begins to pop up a bunch of random windows from my most used apps, just like it usually does whenever it's powered down and back up suddenly. I close them out with mild irritation, but freeze when my spreadsheet window opens up, displaying the spreadsheet I was working on last.

The guest list for the gala.

My heart stutters. I'd done so good all of today avoiding thoughts of the event only for my stupid laptop to bring it to the forefront of my mind. My heart wrenches as I can't stop myself from scrolling briefly through the list of invited guests. Near the end, I notice my name and stifle the sudden rise of emotions that inundate me.

With hasty, almost frantic fingers, I rush to delete my name from the sheet. Before I can erase my name, my eyes catch on four names at the bottom below mine. Strange. My name was the last one added. I know because I edited and set up this spreadsheet and only added myself when I had double and triple checked that everyone had been added.

Maybe Bucky found four more to invite. I try to accept the thought, but my curiosity takes the better of me and I can't stop myself from pulling up the internet on another window and searching up the first of the four names.

Xavier Taft. 34 years old, works for a bouncer service...wait. Criminal record.

My heart stutters again. With events like this, we're always so careful to keep the criminals down to only our own, and I've never seen this man's name in our regiment before. With furrowed brows, I search up the next one.

Lance Salone. Bouncer. Criminal record.

My heart is racing when I search the third.

Amanda Vice. No criminal record.

I frown, my adrenaline seizing a little bit. Maybe I was too hasty, maybe those two were just-

Oh my God.

My entire body freezes when I notice an article underneath Amanda Vice's search. She's a personal assistant, like me. But she works for Pierce Enterprises, the cover business for-

"Hydra," I whisper beneath my breath, feeling as though someone's taken the world and spun it around me.

With trembling fingers, I navigate back to the spreadsheet and look to the fourth name. I don't even need to search it up to know.

Alexander Pierce.

My heart is in my throat as I fly my cursor up to the top of my spreadsheet and check to see the editing history. My eyes scan the hundreds of entries by me until they rest in the last entry, one done by an email I don't recognize.

One I never gave permission to edit the document.

"They hacked it," I piece together aloud. Nothing seems real as I throw my laptop off of me and shoot to my feet, the world still spinning. The two bouncers, obvious muscle with the clear ability to kill.

I know I should hate Bucky, I know that I shouldn't give a damn what will go down tonight at the gala, but I can't stop myself from reaching for my phone and dialing the number I saved to my phone of the weapons dealer Bucky's mob used. The man I spoke with on Bucky's behalf many a times picks up on the third ring.

"Y/N. I haven't heard your voice in so long, how are you?" the dealer, a man by the name Nick Fury, asks.

"Nick, this is going to sound so random but I need to know if there's been any movement from Pierce or his men in the last week or so," I rush out. There's a beat of silence on the other end before Nick speaks again.

"What's this about? I thought Bucky fired you," he points out skeptically. My desperation is taking the better of me and I nearly snap.

"Damn it, Nick I just need to know! Has Hydra done anything unusual lately that you know about? If anyone would know it would be you," I practically beg. He must hear the urgency in my tone because he doesn't question me again.

"I caught word they were hanging around upstate earlier this week, they're not usually over there," Nick announces. I furrow my brows.

"Where upstate?"

"Some place called The Sky Palace. Heard they were there for a good bit of time snooping around before they got booted out," Nick answers, pausing for a moment, "Y/N, what's going on?"

I can barely breathe, let alone work up a response. The phone nearly slips from my limp fingers.

"Y/N, are you-"

"That's where the gala is tonight" I whisper, an aching, yawning sort of sensation ripping in my chest at the sudden realization that slams into me.

They're going to kill him. They're going to kill Bucky Barnes and they're going to make a move on our mob.

"I have to go," I rush out, my voice trembling and my stomach roiling with nausea, "Thank you, Nick"

"Of course."

I end the call, rushing to grab my purse and throw on the first pair of shoes I can find. As I rush out of my apartment and into the streets of New York as the sun sets low behind the buildings, I no longer think about the betrayal or hurt. I don't ruminate that I'm fired or that Bucky doesn't care for me like I do him. All I can think about is that my family isn't safe tonight, and I have to do everything in my power to protect them. All of them.

As I whistle for a taxi, my phone is already pressed to my ear and ringing as it tries by I reach my ex-boss. The call goes unanswered as I sit inside the cab.

"Where to?" The driver asks.

I almost say the venue, but pause. I set up Bucky's schedule for today, he should still be at his mansion upstate getting ready. He always did like to make grand entrances. Even if I'm wrong, it's only a ten minute drive to the venue. I give the driver Bucky's address and dial his number again as the driver speeds off.

"You've reached the voicemail box of-"

"Oh come on!" I groan out, pulling my phone away and ending the call. My heart is racing so fast that I can practically feel it trying to run out of my chest. I feel utterly powerless right now knowing that Bucky could die and I can help. What if I don't make it in time? What if he's already gone?

Tears blur my vision and sudden heart ache seizes my chest at the thought. I shove it all down and keep myself composed as I try his number again, but to no avail. Thankfully, we're pulling up to his mansion now. I pay the driver and rush out, putting in the gate code and sprinting to his front door. I don't even waste time knocking, knowing he's probably in the garage or his room, and dig up the spare key from its hiding spot to let myself in.

"Bucky!" I shout as soon as I'm in, slamming the door behind me.

There's no response.

"Bucky please! Are you here?" I shout again, but the silence rings in my ears.

One quick check of his room shows he's not here and when I sprint into the garage, I see one of his twenty cars missing.

I missed him. He's already gone.

I curse, checking my phone to see that he's running fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, something he never does. Of all days to be more punctual to his own event, tonight was probably the worst. I hesitate for only a moment as I ponder what to do.

"You'll forgive me later," I mutter to myself before I spin on my heels and jog to the key rack by the door. I swipe the first set I find and press the button only to find his brand new, cherry red Tesla lighting up.

If things weren't so dire, I'd squeal in excitement.

I don't waste time with giddiness, though, and sprint to the car. I'm inside and have the engine running in record time. Not one minute later, I'm peeling out of the garage and onto the road with screeching tires. I press the gas pedal nearly all the way to the floor, the engine roaring in my ears as I whip into the traffic.

I have to make it. I have to.

|||

And here we are, all caught up.

I hope you understand now more than you did before why I'm so desperate to get to Bucky in time. I hadn't realized it fully in the moment before, but now that I just might lose him, I know that he's everything to me. I wouldn't be half the woman I am without him and his constant assurance that I was strong and skilled and perfectly able to stand up for myself.

I can't lose him, not when he's so much more than a boss to me. So much more.

I cut the ten minute drive to the gala down to four. My headlights cut thought the pitch black night as I swerve up to The Sky Palace that's teeming with cars and richly dressed guests. The Tesla screeches as I grind to a halt before a group of gasping patrons and a wide-eyed valet.

His eyes grow wider when he sees me step out of it in a pair of jeans and a hoodie.

"Don't scratch this car if you want to live," I advise as I toss the young valet the keys. He must think I'm joking because his gaze flashes with humor.

He doesn't realize I'm being dead serious.

I don't care a modicum about the horrified, disgusted looks I'm getting from the elite who are still making their way to the Palace's entrance nor do I care about their cries as I break into a sprint and shove past them all.

I can't let him die, I can't let Pierce hurt my family. I can't.

I only stop running when I reach the two men guarding the front entrance with iPads to check in guests. I know them both, since both happen to be members of Bucky's mob. Their eyebrows furrow once they see me approaching them.

"Y/N?" One asks, his eyes nearly popping from his head, "Boss won't like it that you're here."

"Let me in, Sam," I order, my chest heaving with breath, "He's in danger, you're all in danger."

The two men's eyes widen and they share a look for a moment before glancing back to me.

"Y/N," the other begins, but the panic is getting too much and I cut him off.

"Listen, you're all in trouble. The business is in danger of being thrown into chaos, and your boss-" my voice cuts off with sudden emotion, tears swimming in my gaze, "Your boss is going to die if you don't let me in right now."

They only hesitate a moment longer before they step aside. Relief like I've never known it crashes through me. Just before I walk in, though, Sam catches my arm.

"I don't know what the hell's going on, but we're already falling apart without you. We...he needs you, Y/N," Sam whispers.

My heart tugs painfully in my chest and that same hole opens again. I miss them all, I miss the mob and the meetings where we'd all mess around like kids. I miss Bucky.

And with that last thought, I give Sam a nod before turning and jogging into the Palace.

Classical music wafts into the air, broken up only by soft chatter, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. The gala is classy and elegant and beautifully well-done, but I don't take time to admire any of that. Instead, I race through the room in search of Bucky.

I receive more than one disgusted glare and scoff at my apparel and messy, unkempt hair. I don't give one damn as I try to blend in as much as possible to not alert Pierce or his men while searching for Bucky.

I stop when I reach the grand staircase that leads to an upper balcony, taking the advantage of the steps and climbing a few to see the room from a birds eye view. It only takes me a few seconds to spot Bucky near the center of the room. My heart squeezes in my chest and I almost sob in relief to see him alive and safe. Just before I move to rush down the stairs and towards him, I hear a click from the top of the stair case.

I whip my gaze up in time to see one of the two bouncers from the list, Xavier Taft, begin setting up a sniper rifle atop the dimly lit balcony that no one but him stands atop.

My heart stops. Time freezes. My stomach hits the floor and all I can think about is that I can't lose him.

"No," I breathe, snapping my gaze down to see the gun trained on Bucky.

When I look at him, I see Sam at his side and speaking in rushed tones, probably about me. Knowing I don't have many options left, my mind works in overdrive to figure out the best way possible to do this. I need to cause a distraction, one to catch Xavier's attention long enough for me to finish climbing the stairs and get that gun away from him. At the same time, though, I need Bucky to see it happen, I need him to know his life is in danger so Lance Salone, the other bouncer, doesn't surprise attack him.

Bucky's just snapped his head towards Sam, his brows furrowed and his jaw tight when I make my move, my nerves humming.

"BUCKY LOOK OUT!" I shout, my voice piercing and carrying out over the room. Instantly, Bucky's head snaps up to where I am on the stairs and his entire body goes rigid.

I don't waste time watching him any longer and begin to sprint up the last of the stairs and towards Xavier who curses. He wasn't ready to shoot yet, I timed it perfectly. Beneath me, Bucky sees the gun trained at him and he sees Xavier, who now has his gaze on me. Bucky's entire body changes again into a mode of desperation, but I don't see it. I'm focused on closing the distance between me and the gun that's almost ready.

"Y/N!" Bucky roars, but I'm barely listening over the chaos in my brain.

"Bitch!" Xavier growls, cocking the rifle hastily and wrapping his finger around the trigger. He's too late, because I finish bounding up the stairs and crash into him, knocking him off of his feet and shoving the gun off balance enough so that the bullet he intended for Bucky slams into the roof instead.

Xavier's body slams into the marble tile as I tackle him, but he quickly overpowers me, flipping us over so I'm beneath him. Below us, I can hear screaming and glass shattering, but above the panic I swear I can hear a voice bellowing my name.

I scramble out from underneath Xavier before he can pin me, shooting to my feet and sprinting to the sniper rifle still sitting on the balcony. Just as I hear Xavier get up behind me, I knock the rifle over and send it careening down into the panicking crowd.

"I'll kill you for that!" I hear Xavier spit from behind me, and I whirl just in time to see him throwing a fist at me.

Time suddenly slows, and it's like I'm back in the office that day ages ago where Bucky tried to teach me self-defense. My body remembers the way he grounded me from my punch before my mind does, and I snap back to reality just in time to dodge Xavier's punch. Just like Bucky did to me then, I hook my leg around his and use his momentum to shove him to ground. I crash down on top of him and practically feel the slam of his head into the marble below him.

"Y/N!"

My entire body jumps at Bucky's voice, now close to me. I snap my head around to see him bounding up the stairs, blood splattered across his tuxedo as if he killed a man himself down there during the chaos. I almost sob in relief. He's okay. I melt beneath his gaze that bores down into me as he stoops down to reach out to me.

His hand is inches from me when his eyes snap up to something behind me and horror flashes through his face a millisecond before a hand wraps around my waist and wrenches me to my feet and away from Xavier's unconscious body. I gasp, and the world suddenly goes very still and very quiet as the cool of a gun presses underneath my chin, forcing it up slightly. My stomach hits the floor and I hardly find it in me to breathe.

Bucky stands ever so slowly in front of me, his jaw clenched and his eyes spelling murder.

"Leave her alone, Pierce," Bucky orders, and sudden fear clamps over me.

Alexander Pierce has me at gun point.

"Why? I'm actually quite taken with your girl," Pierce responds, tightening his hold on my waist. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment at the disgust and fear rolling through me before looking back at Bucky. He catches my slight movement and his fury heightens.

"Pierce, I swear to God if you kill her I will skin you alive," Bucky growls.

"See, now we're getting somewhere," Alexander announces, but I can hear the annoyance in his voice. This isn't what he wanted to happen, "What are you willing to give for her life?"

Immediate tears spring to my eyes and I meet Bucky's gaze again.

"No," I beg immediately, not daring to shake my head because of the gun beneath it, "Let me die. I'd rather die."

Bucky works hard to keep the cold exterior upon his face, but I can see between the cracks that he's...he's terrified.

It's only when Alexander moves his arm that restrains me to cover my mouth that I realize my slim window of opportunity. Without thinking, I slam my free hands into the gun that Pierce holds to the underside of my chin hard enough that it knocks his hand away. His hold loosens in sudden shock and I rip away at the same moment that Bucky darts forward and grabs ahold of me, ripping me to him and immediately crushing me into his side for protection as he rips out his own guns and shoots before Pierce can even recover.

The bullet finds its target perfectly, right between his eyes, and it's over.

My entire body is trembling so violently that I cling to Bucky, scared that my knees will give way from the adrenaline. I've never been in a situation like that before, never been so close to death. Bucky drops the gun from his hold and switches his full attention to me, probably realizing just how pale I've turned and how badly I'm shaking.

Keeping one arm secured around my waist, he runs the other through my hair, his steel blue eyes taking in every feature of mine.

"You saved my life," Bucky murmurs, his hold on me so tight in the most protective sort of way, almost as if he's just as terrified as me, "Even after I fired and threatened you."

I shake my head, tears of relief pooling in my eyes.

"I couldn't let you die."

Bucky's jaw clenches and before he can react I throw my hands around his neck, hugging him close to me. He reacts instantly, wrapping both massive arms around my waist and pulling me close to him, holding me tighter than I ever have been.

"Don't ever do that again, doll," Bucky mumbles into my hair, clenching my hoodie in his fists, "Don't be willing to die for me. I don't deserve it."

I don't know why tears are gathering in my eyes but I find I can't blink them away. I only tighten my grip, nuzzling my head into his neck.

"I don't think I can promise that," I breathe, and my next words come out before I can even stop them, "You'll always be deserving."

Bucky pulls away so fast that my heart lurches into my throat. His eyes examine mine so frantically, so dangerously, so desperately as he holds me out from him. His chest is heaving, almost as bad as mine.

"I did it to protect you, you have to know that. Everything that happened before, it was all to keep them away from you," Bucky swears, and my heart stutters at the look in his eyes, as if the police and ambulance sirens filling the air alongside the shouting don't exist.

"Why?" I breathe, hoping on everything he'll say what I think he will. Bucky brings a hand to cup my cheek, shaking his head at me with something almost close to tears in his eyes.

"You're my only weakness, Y/N, and they know it. Everyone knows it," Bucky murmurs and I swear I stop breathing, "If it came to you or the world I'd pick you every time."

My chest is so tightly constricted that I can hardly draw in any breaths. My chest is moving just as fast as his and butterflies are pressing into my stomach in anticipation for whatever is thick in the air between us.

"Don't ever fire me again," I order, and a low chuckle leaves his lips. My humor drains in a second though, and suddenly it's hard to speak without my voice trembling, "I don't think I'll survive it."

Something breaks in his gaze, softens it and turns it so tender and passionate that my skin tingles. He brings his other hand to cup my face to, so I feel completely under his control.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He asks carefully, his eyes searching mine, "This life will never slow down. Someone will always want to take you from me."

"I'm sure," I whisper, not even hesitating.

His lips are on mine before the words are even fully out of my mouth. My heart leaps out of my chest as I melt into him, pulling him closer as our lips move in perfect harmony. My entire body feels like liquid and lightning all at once and he's the only thing left in the world. One of his hands finds their way into my hair, leaving me completely at his mercy. When he finally pulls back, he leaves a breath of a kiss on my nose and then my forehead before tilting my chin up to meet his gaze.

"You've been more to me for a long time now, doll" Bucky breathes, and a shiver rushes down my spine. He's so beautiful. A smile twitches onto my lips as I caress his stubble-covered cheek.

"I think how I feel is pretty obvious, considering I did tackle a fully grown man for you," I remark, and a surprised laugh rumbles out of him. The sound nearly turns me weak.

"And it was probably the scariest and hottest thing you've ever done," Bucky assures. This time I laugh and kiss him again, but we're both more serious after it.

"This life may not be safe," he begins, his thumb running over my lip, "But you always will be. As long as I'm here, you'll always be safe."

"I love you, Bucky" I whisper, my words a promise. He freezes, something new and bright flashing through his gaze. I don't think he's ever heard those words before.

"I've always loved you, and I always will," he swears, and for a moment my life is completely and totally content.

It doesn't matter what's happening around us, it doesn't even matter that I nearly died a few times in one day. With Bucky by my side, I feel invincible, I feel strong and capable.

"I don't think I can be your secretary any more," I whisper, and his smile is back, turning my insides to butterflies.

"No, I've got a better idea," he smirks, kissing me quickly.

The next day, Bucky would introduce me to the mob as his equal partner.

The King and Queen of crime.

And it would stay like that for the rest of our time.

I don't know when exactly Bucky Barnes became more than my boss, maybe it was always. Maybe I should have known I was in trouble from the beginning, but it's the best kind of trouble. So, if you ever get the chance to do something a little crazy, maybe something you never thought you would, but it just feels right, then you need to do it.

You never know who will become more to you in the process.

[sassy-cass-16]

Oh god I promised myself no bell’s hells meta until c3 ends but my brain is turning the “can she be trusted?” line over and over like chicken at the shawarma shop. because there are layers to that.

more under the cut because i let this run away from me:

so first off, there's the obvious: dorian initially seems to start to address the whole group, everyone who's left in the inn room, but turns and just locks eyes with orym when he asks. orym, who of everyone has the most reason to be biased against laudna right now. orym, who just got into a fight with laudna over the sword that killed both of them and orym's husband and father-in-law. that's who dorian thinks to ask, because he trusts orym not to let his judgment be clouded.

dorian first saw orym again after months of being separated, like, three days ago, and despite how much orym has visibly changed in those months, dorian doesn't hesitate to believe that orym will still be objective. he trusts that orym will be the one to look at this situation and tell him the truth.

because dorian has experience with orym telling him the truth. dorian knows firsthand how willing orym is to shuck his personal feelings in favour of what's true. dorian just saw what he could have become, had orym not stepped in to stop him taking the circlet of barbed vision. he owes the fact that he's alive and beholden to no gods to orym's willingness to be rational and objective in a situation involving a powerful magical item. by his own admission, "i wouldn't be here without you."

so of course dorian trusts him right now.

and there's something to the exclusion of the others, with that. dorian doesn't look to fearne and orym, although that would make sense because he's known the two of them the longest. he doesn't look to chetney, who's proven to be able to get a handle on this with the scream needle compromise. he doesn't look to ashton, who's been extremely levelheaded through this whole mess. he looks at orym, exclusively. he is asking orym, exclusively. not the group, although everyone decides to jump in to answer and then imogen comes through the window to complicate the matter. just orym.

dorian is the kind of person with a lot of potential for darkness in him. he hides it well because he's also deeply kind and friendly, but it's always been there. he's just been through something massively traumatic, and that was after the original circlet conflict back in exu prime. he had his alignment forcibly changed from good to neutral. but even after all he's gone though, orym's alignment is still good.

as much as orym doesn't want to be a leader and prefers to be a protector and follower, he does very well in situations where he takes on an amount of responsibility. when he's in some level of control over a situation, he takes to it naturally. he's a very good babysitter to his gaggle of weirdos. the "can she be trusted?" might have been an attempt on dorian's part to give orym a bit more control here. to reassure him that regardless of anyone else's feelings—regardless of how laudna's reaction might have affected him—orym deserves to be trusted, and he can make a decision that dorian will trust.

back in exu and all the way into early c3, dorian and orym slotted into a sort of parental position in their groups. watching over the crownkeepers' clothes when they went skinny dipping in exu. orym repeatedly steering everybody away from bad ideas. matt even described dorian leaving dariax in zephrah in 4sd as "dad just going out to get cigarettes." there's always been that underlying sense of "we are two of a pair" with dorian and orym. not to say that either of them don't see the others as adults, but they do have that rapport of being the babysitters in the gaggle of weirdos.

that kind of bond is just part of their dynamic. but especially in light of what's been happening while they were separated, and then what happened between them earlier that evening, "can she be trusted?" is a reminder of that bond. orym's been lonely, by his own admission, and one of the secrets he divulged at nana morri's was "i really miss dorian." he broke down crying during his last message through the sending stone, and then again on the bench not a few hours before this whole incident went down.

dorian came to comfort him. he flat-out said to orym's face "i'm here now." he reminded orym that he needs to rely on other people, that he can't always be the one saving everybody else. he gave orym the room to not be the strong one, and told him he has that room because dorian's there to support him. they can be two of a pair again.

he knows orym's been feeling like he can't do anything, like he had to resort to what he stopped dorian from doing with the circlet. and so dorian both gives him a choice to make, something to do, and shows him that he still trusts him unconditionally. "can she be trusted?" also means "i trust you" and "i'm here with you" and "this is how we've always been."

we know from liam in 4sd that orym has feelings for dorian that he's not sure are reciprocated. but even regardless of the romantic element here, dorian and orym have always had a partnership. they have always been two of a pair. the sequence of events leading to "can she be trusted?" is a perfect microcosm of he relationship between the two of them. it's just incredible.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: The Knights of St. Kazvarin

There's pious and selfless devotion, and then there's whatever these weirdos have going on

Riding forth from their brooding fortress-abbey to do the will of a long dead holy man, these inscrutable warriors have long been the subject of rumour and suspicion. It's not an undeserved reputation, as apart from looting tombs for ancient relics or ominously observing the goings on of the common folk these forboding knights are most often acting as the hired muscle for unscrupulous nobles who have no regard for the legality or virtue of the orders they enforce.

Far more than mercenaries with a patina of piousness, the Knights use these contracts to fund a secret and sinister endeavour that they have undertaken for centuries.

Adventure Hooks:

While delving through a dungeon the party follow a trail of slain monsters to a gravely injured knight and his thoroughly overwhelmed young squire. The boy will introduce them as Tilaen and Ser Darrik respectively and ask for their aid in tending to his master's injuries, before the dour Knight chides him for speaking on his behalf and tells the party to be about their way. Ser Darrik wants no help from "the faithless" and is willing to use the last of his strength to get violent about it. If cooler heads prevail, the party will learn that the two were after a rare manuscript hidden somewhere within the dungeon, and the offer of collaboration might be explored. If the party don't help, they'll find the squire waiting for them at the dungeon's entrance, requesting their help to bury his master and guide him back to their order's abbey. It's only after a few days of travelling together will realize that Squire Tilaen is muchabused by his sect, and that steering the boy away or outright adopting him might be the real kindness.

Acting as a stern and imposing shadow to whatever asshole noble or callous merchant the party have recently pissed off, the towering and always helmed Ser Gelceiras has "Bossfight" written all over him. However when the adventure's final confrontation looms the party find him cleaning off his massive axe, his employer's head in a bloodsoaked bag waiting to be delivered to them. "We got what we wanted from him" he rumbles as he exits, " you can have what's left. no hard feelings."

Just a new threat encroaches on the settlement, a mace wielding bruiser in burnished armour rides up and pledges to fight alongside the party in its defence. Ser Portia's skill as a fighter is sorely needed, perhaps enough to overlook whatever agenda it is that drew her to the settlement in the first place. Shortly after the final battle is fought and the dust clears, the party will realize Portia is nowhere to be seen... having escaped sometime during the aftermath after inexplicably kidnapping one of the locals.

Background: Before he was a sacred corpse, Saint Kazvarin was a necromancer of great talent, having dedicated his life to the study of thanatology and the many loopholes around death. This earned him great renown and wealth in his day, amazing the masses with seances while charging the powerful dearly for cut-rate resurrections. He amassed generous patrons and fanatical followers, only to have it all fall apart when the Raven Queen took an interest.

Kazvarin had and constructed his own bootleg afterlife, a place where his most loyal followers would rest forever in glory before being called back in time of greatest need. Atleast that was the sales pitch, in reality the "saint" had stopped just short of lichdom delving into the shadow to create a demiplane where his own soul would reside undeminished after death, sustained by the faith of his followers as the realm hollowed them out.

Such villainy inevitably created it's own downfall in the form of a young woman who's family were taken in and exploited by Kazvarin's cult. Though her name was not recorded by history, she was marked by the Duskmaven for greatness when she swore to tear down the saint who would conquer death, years later succeeding along with some allies in not only killing the necromancer but cursing him with a most ironic fate. Denying him the afterlife he had so meticulously constructed, the raven queen cursed Kazvarin with reincarnation, forcing his soul to live out a new life where it would forget all he knew and be remade.

It would have been a perfect punishment had the Saint's followers not been so fanatical. Though their organization had been shattered by their "benevolent" leader's apparent assassination, the most loyal of his inner circle poured through his research, finding the spells nessisary to seek out his soul in its new vessel. Thereafter they engaged in a grim hunt, crossing the realms to ritually sacrifice the youth their leader had grown into and pulling free his undigested soul. This is the cycle Kazvarin's followers have been following for generations, spending decades hunting for signs of their leader's return before using murder and necromancy to forcibly deincarnate him. Thereafter Kazvarin has a few months or years to act freely before he is swallowed back up by the tide of souls and the hunt begins again

Future Adventures:

Though they begin as a comparatively minor oddity, the knights become a true threat to the campaign as soon as they figure out who Kazvarin's current incarnation is and manage to wrest his soul out. Ideally this should be someone the party knows, to make it all the more tragic that they were sacrificed to bring about the villain's return.

Though it is much deminished, Kazvarin's demiplane (called the Howling Basilica) still traps the souls of those who have sworn their lives to him, acting as a vault from which he can pull rank upon rank of shadow-maddened spirits to his bidding. His most loyal retainers are allowed to keep their skills and individuality while being deprived of their will, meaning he has a backlog of highly skilled Knights just waiting for new bodies to possess no matter how many times the party defeat them on the field. What's worse is that the saint still remembers how to manipulate people with the offer of offbrand immortality, and will likely begin reaching out to powerful individuals shorty after his return.

Art 1

Art 2

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 ─ LH⁴³

౨ৎ ─ summary | requested ! can u write rough car smut with luke hughes please 🫶🏻🫶🏻 -> luke storms out of your friend's party because of a "good-natured" comment, causing you two to get into an argument in his car but quickly make up.

─ word count | 2k

─ warnings | SMUT with teensy bit of plot!!!!!!! slight angst, car sex (obvs), jealous!luke, rough!luke (not too much tho), unprotected p in v, no prep, dumbification (pls idk if this is the right word for it) but like VERY LITTLE, praise, luke being PUSSY DRUNK, choking (but not really), and pretty sure nothing else.

─ taglist | @dancerbailey @maryleclerc @valluvsu @bowen-power @bunting58 @daisysnhl @daisysthings @hearts-4-luke @iminlovewithtz11 @jackhughesily @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvelyzoe @ru-kru

─ ev's notes | this is quickly turning into a luke hughes fan-page (even tho i'm supposed to be in MY QUINN HUGHES ERAAAAA) request some stuff!!! my requests are open rn!!!!!!!

ALL IT TOOK WAS one backhanded comment and Luke was out of there.

He was practically dragging you at this point, his hands gripping yours as he walked out of the room. It didn't take a whole lot to realize he was angry ─ he was fuming. His jaw clenched, and his steps were sharp and quick, he needed to remove himself from the situation before he said or did something he might later regret.

You struggled to keep up with his fast pace, feeling the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame. His grip on your hand was almost painful but you knew better than to protest or try to slow him down. When Luke was in this mood, it was best to let him cool off on his own terms.

You reached the car and he dropped your hand, opening the driver's door and getting inside. He didn't bother saying anything as he started the car as soon you got into it. You wanted to say something but you knew if you did, you will never hear the end of it.

You and Luke had gotten invited to one of your friend's get-together. Now this would be a normal occurrence if it weren't for the fact he strongly dislikes your friend. You knew why but it honestly didn't seem that big of a deal ─ your friend wasn't really a big fan of sports.

You knew the root of Luke's dislike for your friend stemmed from their differing interests. Luke, being a professional hockey player, lived and breathed the sport. It was his passion, his livelihood, and his identity in many ways. On the other hand, your friend couldn't care less about sports.

Now this all would not be a problem if your friend had a weird thing with teasing Luke. He really enjoyed getting a rise out of him but it wasn't like he targeted Luke, that was just how he was.

As the car hummed along the road, the tension inside it seemed to thicken with each passing mile. Luke's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack.

"Luke, we need to talk about this," you spoke up (despite your better judgement). You couldn't really find the words to put it lightly. He was being too sensitive, you wanted to say.

But of course, you couldn't. That was mean. You glanced back at the brunette, sympathy written all over your expression.

Luke shot you a sharp glance, his eyes flashing with anger. "What's there to talk about?" he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. "Your friend was out of line, and I'm not going to stand around and be disrespected like that."

"He wasn't trying to disrespect you, Luke," you countered, your voice rising slightly. "He was just joking around, like he always does."

"Well, maybe his idea of a joke isn't as funny as he thinks," Luke retorted, his grip on the wheel tightening even further.

You shook your head, feeling your temper flare. "You're being too sensitive," you shot back, unable to hold back your frustration any longer. "He's my friend, Luke. I'm not going to just cut him out of my life because you can't take a joke."

You knew you'd stepped over the edge, crossed a boundary you shouldn't have. Regret seeped into your expression as Luke's anger seemed to triple, if that was even possible. Your mouth hung open, trying to say something, anything but nothing came out.

Luke's expression darkened at your words, his jaw tightening even further as he processed your response. The silence in the car grew heavy, suffocating, as both of you grappled with the weight of your words.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Luke spoke, his voice low and laced with barely-contained fury. "So that's how it is, huh?" he muttered, his gaze burning into yours.

"Luke, I'm sorry... I just-" You stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. "I just..."

But before you could finish your sentence, Luke's words cut through the air like a knife, his anger now laced with a bitter edge.

"He's a little bitch, why are you trying to defend him so badly?" Luke's gaze bore into you as he spoke. "I bet you he can't even skate correctly and he's over here talking about hockey like he knows anything about it."

As he continued to speak, his voice was filled with something more than just mere anger. You could practically feel the jealousy radiating off of him and finally, it made sense ─ he was jealous. Your heart almost did a flip, it was... kinda cute.

Despite the venom in his words, your lips began to curve into a small smile. Luke looked over and his anger seemed to turn into utter irritation.

"Why are you smiling?" His words came out harsh but you just shook your head.

You shook your head, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across your lips. "I'm not laughing at you," you assured him, though your tone was light. "It's just... you're cute when you're jealous."

"Jealous?" He repeated, angry coursing through his body. "Of him? Why? It's not like he stands a chance against me in anything. Jesus, Y/N. Jealous?"

"I didn't mean it like that," you said quickly, reaching out to touch his arm in a gesture of reassurance. "I just meant... it's cute when you get all protective. Like you care about me."

Luke's expression softened slightly at your explanation, though the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. "Of course, I care about you," he said gruffly, his tone still tinged with irritation. "I hate that guy. So much, I don't think I've ever hated anyone more. And seeing him flirt with you-"

"What?" You interrupted. "Luke, he's not flirting with me."

Luke glared back at you, trying to suppress an annoyed groan. "Trust me, Y/N. I can fucking tell. You're just too friendly to get it. But you're my girl, I don't why he wants to one-up me. You're already mine."

"I am, I am yours." You repeated, your gaze softening slightly.

Luke looked back at you, his gaze filled with smugness and a maybe even desire. "Yeah," he replied breathlessly. "You fucking are." His voice was low and you felt his voice go right down south.

He pulled over the car and you felt your whole body burn up. He put the car in park and looked over at you, his gaze filled with desire. You knew you couldn't have him waiting so you just crossed over to him and straddled his lap.

Luke didn't waste any time ─ he grabbed your jaw and kissed you harshly. You let out an uncontrollable whimper at that, his touch almost bruising on your jaw. His lips drew lower, letting go of your jaw as he began kissing your neck.

You couldn't help but let out quiet whimpers, letting your head fall back.

"Mine," he mumbled against your neck with each kiss on your neck. You began grinding your hips against his and you felt his hard-on right on your clothed cunt, your whole body shaking with desire.

He stopped his actions and you let out a huff of disapproval. He gestured for you to move in the backseat and you did with no question, laying back as Luke got on top of you.

He slid your hips upward before taking ripping your leggings off. His touch was harsh but you didn't mind ─ Luke usually took his time with you and was much softer but you knew his mind was racing with jealousy. And you didn't wanna admit but you were kind of hoping for this outcome when you had first got into the car.

He pulled down his sweatpants and you could see his cock bulging out of his boxers. His head fell back in pleasure as he pulled himself out, the tip an angry red as pre-cum was leaking out of it. Luke let out a groan as he gave himself a few pumps before he slid your underwear to the side.

Usually, Luke was patient enough to stretch you out with his fingers but not tonight; he just needed to fuck you dumb, til your legs were shaking the only thing playing in your was him.

He leaned forward so he could pull you into a needy kiss before he slid his cock inside of you slowly. His kiss was sloppy as you let out a moan into it as he slowly bottomed you out. You felt the burn, Luke was pretty big and the lack of prep added some pain but you knew it would dissipate.

"Ah, fuck." Luke moaned into the kiss before he pulled away. He bottomed you out pretty quickly, you were so wet that he just slipped right in. "Fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good."

You whimpered in response before Luke slid his hands up to your neck, holding you tightly before he began thrusting in and out. His other hand was planted right on your hips, his grip firm. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you arched your back in response, the previous mentioned pain quickly turning into pleasure.

"You're mine," he grunted as he quickened his pace. He pulled your legs all the way to rest on his broad shoulders, fucking you from a new angle.

He was hitting in all the right spots, you could barely see straight. All that was coming out of your mouth were moans and unintelligible strings of praises and curses.

"Feel so fucking good, Jesus." Luke felt himself slip, your pussy felt so good and knowing that you were only for him, that he was the only one who's ever been this deep inside of you, made his knees weak. "Ah, fuck baby."

He began fucking you into the backseat, harsher and rougher than before. You couldn't even think straight anymore, your cries louder and your legs shaking as he did. Luke felt like he was on cloud 9, you were squeezing him so good and you were so perfectly made for him, not to mention how fucking beautiful you looked; your eyes closed, your head back, your face sweaty and your mouth slightly open as you took him ─

God, he was so fucking close. He closed his eyes because he knew if he kept looking at you, he'd cum. Luke held you down by your neck as he brought down his fingers to rub on your clit harshly and before neither of you knew it, your orgasm hit you like a truck.

Your cunt tightened against him, he let out a loud groan as he head fell back. A few more deep, messy and harsh thrusts and he was spilling inside of you. He fell on top of your heaving chest, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

Your fingers found his curls and you began to run your hands through them. Sure, it'd make them all frizzy but you knew it made Luke relax. The whole car was fogged up, making your lips curve up into a lazy smile.

With a gentle sigh, you pressed a warm kiss to the crown of Luke's head, relishing in the quiet intimacy of the moment. "I love you, I'm sorry-"

"No." He interjected, finally sitting up so he could face you entirely. "I'm sorry for... being all being all possessive and jealous back there. It's not fair to you, especially when you've done nothing wrong."

You reached out to gently cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his stubbled jawline. "It's okay, Luke," you reassured him, your voice soft. "If I'm being honest, it was kind of hot."

"Yeah, I figured." He smirk as gestured to your legs as you rolled your eyes in amusement.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, feeling a warmth spread through you at the sight of his playful expression. "Yeah," you admitted, your voice tinged with a teasing tone. "I mean, it's nice to know you care so much."

Luke's smirk widened into a full-fledged grin, his eyes sparkling with desire. "If being jealous always ends in us fucking like that, then maybe I should do it more often." he quipped, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. You giggled as he did so, relaxing in his touch.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[writers-potion]

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐚

The Aims of Nautical Fights

Sink the other ship

Methods: ram, set on fire, blow a hole in the hull

Typical Contexts: out-and-out warfare, especially in the ancient Mediterranean

Advantages: fast, no person-to-person fighting

Drawbacks: getting close eough to the other ship exposes own ship, mass murder of the crew, no chance to get their cargo and provisions.

2. Plunder the Other Ship

Methods: disable the ship - damage mast/oars and other methods of propulsion - board the ship, get cargo and kill the crew - sink ship.

Typical Contexts: piracy, privateering

Advantges: valuable cargo sold for profit, much-needed drinking water and food sustain own crew for a while longer, selected captives can be ransomed or sold as slaves.

Drawbacks: dangerous, need to get close enought to gain access to the ship, crew unlikely to surrender, ferocious combat which poses significant risk to own men.

3. Capture the Other Ship

Methods: Capture ship while causing minimal damage and keeping the crew alove - put own officers in charge - add enemy ship to own fleet or collect prize money from the government (the ship will get a new flad, renamed and refitted)

Typical contexts: 18th-19th C Europe (Regency period inclusive)

Advantages: minimal losses of life, humane, gaining a ship

Drawbacks: difficult to capture a ship iwhtou firs samaging it captains may take foolish risks in the hope of prize money, captive crew needs feeding, captive crew may munity.

Weapons

The ship's weapons:-

a ram at the bow - for driving into the hull of another ship. There's the danger of going down together if the ram gets stuck in the body of the other ship.

Artillery - hurling fire at enemy ships to bring them down.

Warships with carry canons.

The crew's weapons:-

Sailors will almost always carry multi-purposes knives which can turn quickly into weapons.

The swords used by marines were always slashing swords (for cutting, slashing, slicing, very sharp, with a lightly curving blade)

Cutlasses are most often associated with nautical combat.

Ship or Boat?

Consider the follow factors when differentiating between a ship and a boat:

the historical period (different periods have different definitions)

the vessel's size

vessel's weight (ships are heavier)

the purpose (fishing vessels, ferries and submarine are typically boats, regardless of size)

the number of masts (three or more masts is a ship)

the number of decks (with more than one deck, it's a ship)

the shape (flat bottom means its a boat)

where most activity takes place (if on deck - boat)

where the bessel travels (if on a river, probably a boat)

Avoid using the words "ship" and "boat interchangeably just to avoid repeating the same word. They are not synonyms!

Use words like vessel, ferry, schooner, the brigantine, cutter, crusier, etc.

Propulsion and Steering

A ship cannot stop, start, swerve and reverse rapidly like a car.

Wind power - high speed, enables long distances, doesn't require the vessel to carry fuel.

Can't move in the abscene of wind

Can't carry out speedy manoeuvres in a battle.

Felling the mast will cripple the entire ship.

Oars (rowing) - allow for greater manoeuvrability, rapid direction changes, and relaively quick starts and stops.

Doesn't achieve great speed and isn't suitable for long distances.

Steam - creates speed, doesn't depend on wind.

Requires carry coal, which limits the amount of cargo that the ship can carry.

Vessels felled with oil or nuclear power can travel faster and vaster distances.

However, they still can't stop, start, swerve and reverse as quickly as a car.

Space

The deck of a ship/boat is a limited space where fighters can fall overboard, climb up a mast, jump down, or leap onto another deck.

It may be full of obstacles: the masts, coiled rops, possible clutter, crates and barrels of cargo and provisions.

There may be livestock, chickens in cages and goats tethered to the mast, intended to provide fresh meat on the long voyage.

Atmosphere

A sea battle will have interesting sounds like roaring canons, crashing masts, splintering wood, panicked chickens, waves crashing against the hull, the wind whipping the sails, the splashing of men overboard.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸