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turtletaubwrites · 4 months

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See How You Like It

✨500 Followers Fic Celebration!✨

I can't believe y'all got me to 500 so fast! The winner of the vote for the next x Reader fic was Law (with Shanks pretty close behind 🤭). I'll be opening up requests again in the next week or two, and I'm so grateful for all the love!!! 🥰🥰

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1927

Ao3 Link

Summary: Law is back from another fiasco with the Straw Hats. You think he's cute when he's grumpy. He thinks you should have some more respect for your captain.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Smut, Degradation, (like SO MANY INSULTS! The list is big, but he makes up for it.), Light BDSM, Choking, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Unprotected Sex, (in all my fics everyone is tested regularly and on birth control, I've only been writing that in my main fics lately to stop annoying everyone, lol. Please practice safe sex!!), Power Imbalance, Established Relationship, Dom Law, Brat Taming, Spit, Creampie, Aftercare, Law knows what his hands do to you, Law is mean at first, but just wait

A/N: This one shot was fun! I haven't written much, if any, degradation before. This Law is real mean, but within the fic the reader thinks of how they have and she doesn't want to use the safe word, and he has a couple sweet moments shine through too. (Plus aftercare!!!) I hope you like it! I'm planning on writing more for Law, and he probably won't be this mean next time, lol

“Hi, Captain.”

The response you got couldn’t have been more than a grunt. Rolling your eyes, you did something that might have gotten you thrown off the ship in the past.

But things are different now.

I hope.

You crawled onto Law’s desk, trying not to crumple any papers as you propped your chin on an elbow in front of him. His face finally left his hefty book just to scowl at you, his eyes still dark under the brim of his hat.

“What are you doing,” he growled, low and threatening.

You pouted up at him, trying not to laugh at the way his eyes narrowed.

“Saying hi to my captain. You’re always so grumpy when you come back from working with the Straw Hats.”

“It’s a valid feeling,” he sighed, shutting the book as he leaned back in his chair. “They are infuriating. Irresponsible. Can’t stick to a plan for five fucking seconds…”

He trailed on for a bit, and you listened to him vent. Until you got a little distracted.

He looks so cute all frustrated. Like a little angry kitten.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

Coughing, you sat up on the desk, letting your legs dangle off beside his.

“I’m just happy you’re back safe, captain.”

You gave him a cheeky smile, your legs kicking softly back and forth.

He dropped the heavy book on the desk, standing to tower over you.

“Are you making fun of me, Y/N-ya?”

“No,” you squeaked, gripping the edge of the desk.

You gasped as those long, tattooed fingers pressed into your thighs, spreading your legs apart.

“Ca–”

“What kind of captain would I be if I let one of my subordinates come into my office, interrupt my work, and then have the gall to make fun of me?”

He moved to stand between your thighs, sharp eyes bearing down on yours.

“I know plenty of captains that would kill over such disrespect.”

Your hands would have been shaking if you weren’t still clinging to the desk.

Those gorgeous fingers trailed through your hair before wrapping gently around your throat. Not squeezing. Not yet.

“Tell me you’re sorry,” he demanded, his voice raspy as his free hand pulled down the zipper of your jumpsuit.

“I’m sorry, captain,” you choked out, shivering as he pulled the fabric down, exposing your breasts to the air. To him.

“What are you sorry for?”

He squeezed your throat, just a tiny bit. Just enough to make you gasp softly.

“I… I’m sorry for making fun of you, captain.”

His hips met yours, making you cry out at the feel of his hard length in those tight pants.

“So you were making fun of me.”

“Wh-What?”

The hand at your throat moved to fist into your hair, arching your back as he forced you to look up at him.

“Let’s see how you like it then, brat.”

He tore the rest of your suit off, tore everything off while you panted on the desk, eyes fluttering at his touch, and at the growl he made when he kneeled close to your core to free your legs.

The chair creaked forward, and he picked up his heavy book, seemingly ignoring your presence.

“Cap–”

“Make yourself come. If your weak little hands can manage it.”

“I–”

“Did I say you could talk?”

You had to fight yourself not to smile. Lifting one leg onto the desk, you spread yourself for him.

Everything he’d just done and said had already left you soaked. Your head fell back as you wet your fingers, circling your clit, then reached two fingers inside.

It was so hard not to watch him, especially when you felt his burning stare over the top of his book.

Was the book upside down?

Biting your lip hard not to smile then, you let soft whimpers escape.

“How’s my pathetic little crewmember doing? Can’t even do one task without begging for help, huh?”

His words made your toes curl.

You wanted to beg for help already. You couldn’t reach what he could.

You’d eventually get there, but the frustration built when you caught him licking those long fingers as he flipped a page.

He knows what he’s doing.

Your eyes had fluttered closed, and you didn’t realize that your movements had slowed until those fingers snapped in your face.

“Are you fucking bored,” he threatened, grabbing your wrist. He held it up to the light, the slick glistening on your fingers.

“No, Captain.”

He shook his head, a low chuckle making your shiver.

“I guess you need some more hands on punishment.”

He gripped the back of your head, then shoved your own wet fingers down your throat.

You gagged for a second, then looked up at him, your lips sloppy with slick and spit.

“Useless girl, can’t even make herself come without falling asleep first. Least you can do is clean up your mess.”

He softened his harsh words with his thumb rubbing lightly on your cheek, his other hand still forcing yours into your mouth.

You nodded, a muffled ‘yes’ was lost as you started licking and sucking your own fingers.

Law inspected your spit-soaked hand, running his own fingers along it before giving another low chuckle.

“Look at you. At least that mouth is good for something.”

A whimper left that mouth of yours, and you saw his brows crease for a second.

But you didn’t say the safe word, so your captain kept punishing you.

He lifted you so quickly, you barely had a chance to gasp before he bent you over his desk, face pressed into mussed papers.

He leaned over you and traced his fingers over the back of your neck, your face, your lips. You opened eagerly for him, and moaned when he let you suck two fingers into your mouth.

“Is that what this is about? You’re just a little slut for your captain’s long fingers?”

His truthful words, and the slide of his free hand over the meat of your ass had you moaning around those delicious fingers.

That hand kept sliding down until it slid inside your drenched cunt, easily teasing that spot you found so hard to reach. Pressure built in your core, radiating through you in gentle waves while he took care of you.

He drew his hand out to smear your slick over your folds, your thighs, your ass.

“So my stupid, slutty brat pissed off her captain just for some attention, huh?”

Given no time to try to answer, you let out a shocked and muffled moan around his fingers as that other hand came down in a hard smack, leaving the skin of your ass stinging.

Those fingers left your mouth, gently tracing lines over your back as you shivered.

“Captain’s little girl is so impatient. Couldn’t wait til tonight. Just had to interrupt my work so you could be my pretty little cocksleeve, huh, baby?”

He spanked you again when you didn’t answer.

“Y-Yes, captain!”

“That’s what I thought. Now keep your fucking mouth shut, and I’ll use you like the little fuck toy you are. Is that what my pathetic little brat wants?”

You felt his hand leave your ass, ready, but you did what you were told.

You kept your mouth shut, just nodding desperately to tell him what you wanted.

“Good job,” he praised, standing behind you as he smoothed his hand over where he’d slapped. “Finally doing something right.”

The sound of a zipper made your eyes roll back.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he moaned as he rubbed his tip around your folds, pushing to tease your clit. “My cute little toy missed me this much?”

You went on your tiptoes, raising and wiggling your ass at him to prove it, to beg him.

He laughed. Hearing Law laugh like that made your whole body sing, especially when it was because of you. When it was you that could bring out that kind of joy in him.

Law reminded you that he wasn’t going to be sweet right now. He let that heavy cock slap against you, feeling the heat of him between your ass cheeks making you twitch.

His cock pushed between your thighs, rubbing along your slick until you were desperate, your hips moving to try to direct him where you needed him.

He pushed down on your lower back, trapping you, and smacking your ass one more time.

“You’ve only got one job right now, cocksleeve. You don’t wanna piss off your captain again, do you?”

You shook your head as he lined himself up, grabbing for the edges of the desk just in time.

The slam of his thick cock was overwhelming. He was fully hilted, and gave you no time to adjust as he bullied his way into you.

The rough force of him, and all the build up, had you screaming and coming on his cock so fast.

His satisfied chuckle rumbled over you as you fell apart. You were still twitching through your orgasm as he fucked into you harder, fisting your hair, and forcing you to arch your back.

“I missed my little fuck toy. You milk my cock so fucking well, baby. Do it again for me, yeah?”

Hot tears stained your cheeks as you moaned from his praise.

“T-Too mm…”

He gripped your hair tighter, grunting as his thrusts lost their perfect rhythm.

“Nuh uh. Captain’s pretty girl wouldn’t say it’s too much,” he panted, still taking you. “My cocksleeve wants me to stuff her full, right? Wanna take my come like a good little slut?"

The pressure was overwhelming, but his words sent you screaming again. Your whole body was shaking, twitching, and clenching around him.

You could feel the pulsing veins in his cock, felt him shove as far into you as he could. His loud groans kept you going, and you couldn’t fucking believe how good it felt when he filled you up, spurts of hot come making you twitch even more.

Your sweat-drenched skin was sticking to the papers on the desk. He laid over you for a minute, leaving trails of slow kisses along your spine. He tossed his hat on the chair, having forgotten to take it off during sex again.

You were still limp as he pulled away, moaning softly at the feeling of his come spilling down your thighs.

“You look so pretty like this, baby,” Law hummed, rubbing his come over your clit. He chuckled while you twitched, before helping you gently off the desk.

Carrying you in his arms, he kissed your forehead before teleporting you to the showers.

You melted, hardly able to hold yourself up as he washed you. His perfect fingers took care of you, his lips along your arms and neck making you shiver.

Sleep was pulling at you by the time he lifted you into bed, letting your head rest on his lap while he sat up to read.

Contented sighs fell from your lips as his fingers played in your hair, tickling your neck and behind your ear.

“How’s my pretty girl? Ya doing okay?”

“Yes, Captain. Just glad you’re back.”

He huffed a laugh as he squeezed your shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure you are. Can’t handle a single day without some attention, huh,” he teased, and you squirmed against him.

“Nope. Need my captain all the time.”

You felt a hum vibrate through him, and you let the heat and comfort of him wash over you.

Let those gentle fingers soothe you to sleep.

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you everyone for all the love! 💜🙏🏼

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @fiestynatureweeb

#follower celebration #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law x reader #one piece smut #reader insert #fem!reader #smut #mine #x reader #turtletaub fics #one piece x reader #trafalgar law fanfiction #cw degradation #fic requests

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chyrstis · 3 years

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WIP Saturday!

Tagged by @shallow-gravy @chazz-anova @adelaidedrubman and @starsandskies thoughtout the week, and while I feel like I’m playing a bit of catch up right now, I didn’t want to miss out on this at all. Thank you all! <3

@writerofblocks @hunnybadgerv @painterofhorizons @cobb-vanthss @amistrio @ma-sulevin @tommymillers @jackiesarch @shellibisshe @redroci @unlikelynick @fadedjacket @faithchel @risenlucifer @tomexraider @weekend-writer @vasiktomis @consumedkings @scarlettkat86 @aceghosts but no worries or obligations intended either!

I’ve been having fun dipping back into an earlier idea with Hana and Sharky, mostly because it was supposed to be a simple chat over a cigarette (and a silly exchange about tootsie roll pops), but it decided to get a little more serious than that, and I can’t be mad about that at all.

---

“Now that’s impressive.”

“Huh? What is?”

“Hurk.” Sharky’s eyebrows rose, and she laughed. “I’ve had a few partners before that snored, but this? This would’ve had me on the couch in ten minutes flat. There’s no set of ear plugs strong enough to block that out, not that they’re selling anyway.”

“Huh.”

“You’re fine, though,” she added quickly.

Sharky had been scratching his goatee, lost in thought, but snapped back to attention. “Wait? For real?”

“Yeah, you’ve never-I never noticed. Not enough to smack the pillow or poke you at least.”

There might’ve been a time shortly after they’d started traveling together where he’d rolled over during the night, all but snoring in her ear, but she’d dealt with it. Maybe even let him repeat it once or twice, and wasn’t about to bring that up now.

“Never thought much of it before.” He went back to mulling it over, and jabbed a thumb towards Hurk. “I mean, Hurk’s always been like that, rattling blinds and shit once he really gets going.”

“You don’t say?” Hana winced, and it didn’t take much to imagine the sound.

“Yeah, but that’s after we have a real rager. The kind everyone talks about, and it’s been way too fucking long since we’ve pulled one off.”

“’Cause of the cult?”

“’Cause of the cult. A few of them got real bent out of shape even at Nick’s barbeque a couple years back - which was one kick-ass place to be - and that didn’t even have half of the shit they say they have problems with. Just good food, good company, and some pretty all right tunes, short of whatever the hell the Seeds were trying to pass off as food.” He sighed, and his whole body sagged with it. “Cults, man. Ruining shit for everyone since day one. Ain’t that right, cuz?”

Hurk snorted almost in perfect time to agree, but stayed exactly as he was. Sleeping better than anyone had a right to out in the woods like this.

---

Also, another excerpt from the John the jerk bonanza, maybe? Sorry, Han :( and part of me’s tempted to add just a bit more to it so I can go ahead and post it on its own b/c it’s still pretty far down the fic timeline

---

“Which should be first? Greed? Envy? Pride? Lust? We have some fine candidates to consider, but to choose…oh, to choose. ”

He kept on going. Kept talking, monologuing, raising his hands to add emphasis to every word, and it was all drowned out. All through the blood rushing through her ears.

But it eventually died down. Eased off just enough for her to breathe and be able to think again, catching a few scattered words of his that filtered through, even as John gesticulated for no other reason than he wanted to, and she made a promise to herself then and there.

She’d make it through this. Push past it and find a way to Joey somehow, because that was all that mattered.

So if he wanted to do this - and the sinking feeling in her gut told her that this was only the tip of the mindscrew - she’d do it on her own terms, dammit. Diving in feet first if she had to.

“….John, just get it over with.”

“-thout sin, and you-” John paused, and raised one eyebrow then the other at her. “Hmm?”

Canting her head at him, Hana blew at the bangs that had fallen into her eyes, scattering a handful of the dark red strands without really moving them, and settled as hard a stare on him as possible.

“Sure we could have a field day with the others, but you’re already getting off on this, so why not start with the old L-word. You know the one. Lust,” she breathed, letting her head fall back as she arched into it, only to snap another sharp look off at him. “Just go straight for the shameful shit and run right down the laundry list of people I’ve fucked, since you’re going to want every last dirty detail anyway.”

John opened his mouth, but slowly closed it, narrowing his eyes at her. “Deputy, what do you think I’m going to ask? How many partners you’ve had? Specific acts? Preferred positions?”

Yes. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from saying it, and hated how her face burned in response. “You’ve got to have something to judge, might as well. Direct demonstrations are right the fuck out, however.”

---

And just a short bit that I’ve added to an earlier John and Faith idea where I was trying to feel a potential intro out, and I think I can totally work with this.

---

She was late.

John checked his watch. Could almost hear the seconds tick by as he stood out on the balcony, drumming his fingers along the wooden railing.

While not uncommon, it always dug in just enough. Being forced to wait when he’d already put everything else on hold for her, even if she promised him it would be worth it.

His dear sister tried, but very few things were worth that loss of time, and that was one of their most precious resources nowadays. The only thing he couldn’t measure, weigh, or record, and not even Joseph could give him more than an indeterminate soon at best in terms of when it would finally run out.

So, with soon weighing over all of them, the Collapse reduced to nothing else but that, he was left to stand here.

To wait.

To welcome his sister’s visit with open arms - and he would still, even now - when he’d been left idle long enough for anyone, not just the Deputy to take advantage of it.

The tapping stopped, and John let his fingers lay flat. Let them start to dig the slightest into the surface of the wood.

And where was she now? That deputy...

He’d lost track over the past day, with nothing useful coming in through the cameras or his Chosen. She didn’t disappear. Couldn’t, not with how she dressed, how she looked, or the company she kept, but she’d somehow managed it, and hadn’t headed north or to the east.

#wip #sneaking this in before running off #but I really would love to get in more progress with any of these this weekend #along with the Trap fic again now that some time's opening up #and this is probably still rough around so many edges too but I'm pretty happy with these so far

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vanderlustwords · 3 years

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A Good Thing {mafia au}

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mobster!Reader

- 37. We’re dating and I didn’t know you were a mobster/biker

- 46. Argument leading to kissing/sex.

Summary: Your world shifts so many times but the most important one is the time you met Bucky, slept with him, and then fell in love with him. You force your world to stay still after that because if Bucky ever found out who you were—it would shift into nothing. Because you’re the type of person Bucky Barnes despises.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. EXPLICIT SMUT. Unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), angst, reader gets mean, some happy moments, angst again. HEA

Note: Not me making a comeback after one year 🤪 I’m so sorry but sometimes the muse goes away. She’s back tho and the writing motivation is juicy. Dedicated to @empyreanwritings because she is my muse 😌✨

Count: ~10k (sorry)

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Coffee and rain.

There's something soothing to Bucky's soul when he smells the fresh grinds of coffee mixed in with the rain. The smells and the sounds lull Bucky's aching.

The nice thing about when it rains is that his favourite small coffee shop is quieter. People, for some inexplicable reason, prefer to run to the Starbucks across the street. More seating, probably.

And the very best part of this small coffee shop? It's open 24/7.

Bucky drinks his coffee silently at his usual booth, looking out the window at 2 AM. It's just one of those nights.

It was then he met you.

The door chimes open, and Bucky instinctively looks towards the door.

You were...gloomy.

You walked in, drenched from the rain, with the only thing to keep you completely soaked was your leather peacoat.

"Hey, Sam," you spoke softly.

The lone barista turned to look over to you with a frown.

"Would it kill you to carry an umbrella? It's rainy season," Sam said with his hands on his hip.

"I did have an umbrella," you tell him.

"And what happened to it?"

You shrugged.

Sam sighed.

"I'll go get you a towel, hold on. Do you want anything else?"

"A latte," you ask. "Could you make it with the pretty art?"

Sam presses his lips together as if to prevent himself from laughing. From Bucky's view, he could see the challenging look in your eyes.

"Coming up, just hold on," Sam tells you before he walks off.

Bucky checks his watch again and decides it's getting much too late, and he's sat here long enough. He gets up with his coffee and starts to leave, but as he passes you, you suddenly turn and bump right into him.

His coffee splashes through the hole in the lid over you, and he's glad that his drink had become lukewarm borderline cold with how long he sat at the cafe.

"Oh, shit," Bucky frowns as he reaches over you to grab a bunch of napkins from the dispenser. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

Your face contorts into mild annoyance, and Bucky is sure you're going to cuss him out. But then, you lick your lips, and with a deep breath, you sigh.

"It's okay," you tell him quietly. "It's my fault for turning suddenly. I was trying to go hang my jacket."

Bucky passes you the napkins, but he grins at you. "Not sure if it'll help much since you're drenched. I really am sorry about your jacket, though. I can pay for dry cleaning?"

You actually crack a smile because you're soaked from head to toe and just holding the napkins alone have already used them up. You look at the man before you. His hair is trimmed neatly, but he's a little scruffy with a 5 o'clock shadow on his face. He's got steely grey eyes, but there's a little twinkle of warmth in them.

He's handsome, rough around the edges, but kind.

After all, he was offering to pay for your dry cleaning.

"It's a really expensive jacket," you tell him with a tilt of your head, a small smirk on your lips. "Dry cleaning won't fix it."

Bucky licks his bottom lip before biting it as he eyes you. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

You smile.

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You like when things are simple and straightforward.

There are many things in your life that are complicated, so you appreciate things that are not.

Bucky is simple and straightforward in the best ways. He's charming, funny, and just the right amount of depth. But he's also honest, and you like that about him. He's not afraid to say what he's feeling or what he's thinking about.

Bucky's so...unlike you.

You're always overthinking everything, debating what is safe to reveal and what isn't. You guard your feelings close to your chest, and you make it seem like you're a simple person too.

And you lie.

"How was work today?" Bucky asks as you step into his apartment.

You take your jacket off, hanging it in his closet before Bucky pulls you into a warm hug and a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. You drag your teeth over your lips as you place your hands on Bucky's stomach before running your hands up to his broad chest.

Another thing you like about Bucky. You think he's so fit.

"Not bad. Sold some paintings," you answer as you lean in closer, letting your lips brush against his.

A freelance art dealer.

That's what you told him you do for work.

It's only a partial lie.

But it worked for you because it could explain why you'd have to leave at times or if you had plenty of time off.

"How was work for you?" You ask softly.

Bucky is a man of many talents. He does a little bit of everything because he excels in whatever he does. But right now, he works at a bookstore.

"Good," is all he offers before he swoops in and kisses your lips.

You let out a soft hum of pleasure, letting Bucky sweep you away from reality for a moment. How can kissing someone feel so good?

It had started out easy enough since that moment in Sam's coffee shop. Bucky had been on his way out, but you managed to convince him to stay just another drink to make up for spilling his drink on you.

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, and you finally gave the man reprieve and let him leave to go to bed for the day. Not that he was eager to go.

Bucky asked for your number and didn't do that thing where men wait a couple of days to call you. He rang you the very next day to see what your schedule was like.

It was endearing.

One coffee date turned into two, then turned into three.

Coffee dates turned into walks in the park, grabbing lunch, and then grabbing dinner.

Once or twice a week turned into four or five times.

Leaving at two in the morning turned into staying the night.

What had started as casual was beginning to get serious—because you were falling for someone who was meant to just be a distraction.

Bucky moans slightly against your lips as his hands drift further down your back and onto your ass before he pulls you flush against him.

"Mm, you always taste and feel so good, doll," Bucky pulls back with a grin on his lips.

You want to fuck Bucky so badly. Fucking Bucky always felt amazing because he was a generous lover. You'd done it with him so many times in the beginning, when you could look him in the eye and lie.

But nowadays, something unpleasant was settling in your stomach. It made sex much harder.

"What do you want to eat?" Bucky asks while he caresses your backside. "Wanna go on a walk today?"

You hum as you rest your cheek on his shoulder. Bucky also smells good—he smelled like clean laundry and pinewood. And clean laundry and pinewood were starting to smell like home.

"Mm, I know you asked me what I want to eat but I can already smell pasta," you look up at him, smirking.

Bucky laughs as he presses another kiss to your forehead. "I remember you said you were craving this pasta the other day but in the case you don't crave it anymore, I can just throw the whole thing away and we can get takeout."

You let out a burst of laughter as you slap Bucky playfully against his chest while he grins mischievously at you.

"You're so ridiculous," you roll your eyes but can't stop smiling.

Bucky just chuckles as he pulls back to grab your hand to lead you further into his home.

"Let's eat first and then we can think about a walk after. I've been hearing there's been more gang activity lately, so maybe we shouldn't. It wouldn't be good to run into one of those scumbags."

You look at Bucky's eyes, the rare time they're cold.

"Right," you swallow.

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"Where've you been?"

"Nowhere," you mutter as you run your fingers through your hair. You look around and inwardly frown. This used to be home. There were so many nice things here. The chandelier above you was worth more than some people's home.

Yet, it couldn't compare to the quaint and warm feeling Bucky's house was.

"You can't just keep disappearing for days or even hours on end anymore. Your father's gone and that means—"

"I know what it means!" You snap, turning to look at Natasha coldly.

"Sorry," Natasha mutters first before you sigh and rub your forehead.

"No, I'm sorry," you tell her with a sigh and pinch to the bridge of your nose. "You're right, I can't keep going off on my own but this is a lot for me. I never expected to inherit this Syndicate so soon."

"I know," Natasha says sympathetically. "At least it was a natural cause. I always told him to take it easy on the sodium. But you're doing great. You've been around the business long enough."

You chuckle. "Yes, but the news about my father's death has spread and people have been targeting us, haven't they?"

Natasha huffs with a nod. "Fucking Stark has been snooping around our area. I think he's trying to edge in on our business and take our clients."

"Any fights?"

"No more than the usual. There was nearly a shootout a couple of days ago at one of our warehouses."

You sigh.

The terrible thing is that while both you and Stark are old money, old syndicates, you've both inherited the business and just recently. Now you're both new kids on the block trying to establish your names.

"Right," you say, feeling hollow as you stand. "Let's gather everyone for a meeting. I want updates on all our books."

You and Natasha leave the room, walking out into the long hallways. Members straighten up when they see you, and the guards look more serious.

"Boss."

Your people greet you left and right, and you hardly acknowledge them. Every time you hear them, it's just an uncomfortable reminder.

You're the daughter of a mob boss, the new owner of his Syndicate.

You're the kind of person Bucky Barnes despises the most.

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Bucky hasn't ever disclosed why he hates gangsters and mobsters—but you pick up on this quickly when you're out and about together, and there's evidence of criminal activity out on the street.

It was the smart thing to do—lie.

Being who you are, what you've done, and what you own, it's a general rule to never disclose who you are and what you do. Even in relationships, unless they're about to enter the family or the business.

But you know Bucky would never join the family or the business, and he would never love you if he knew the truth.

You had the luxury that you've never been the face of the business, that you've been kept behind the scenes. Natasha's more the face of the Syndicate than you are. You've used that to your advantage because it's good that Bucky will never recognize you.

You're not sure what you could do to keep him if he found out.

"Oh, you taste really good," Bucky mutters as he pulls back from your lips just ever so slightly. You can still feel his warm breath on your lips.

You're in his lap, straddling his body with your thighs over his. Your panties have long gone missing, and your neediness had you pulling out Bucky's hard cock long ago. Pressed against his body, you feel his warmth and hardness. You feel your body melt into his, and you both love and hate it.

You wish it didn't feel as good as it did. You wished it felt like any other body you've used.

But he doesn't, and you're trying to wrap your head around why that is.

"What is that? Cherry?" Bucky asks as he captures your lips again, dipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you again. His tongue slides over yours, and you feel yourself grinding against him.

Bucky moans into your mouth, and you're addicted to the feel and the sound of him wanting you.

'Please always want me,' you think.

"I did have ice cream earlier today," you mumble breathily against his lips. "Black cherry."

Bucky hums, more so in pleasure at your gyrating hips than the lingering flavour of your dessert. His hands are under your dress, warm against your ass as he guides you into grinding more slowly before he adjusts and slips into you with one slick thrust.

You can't help your eyes fluttering close and the low groan in the back of your throat. Bucky makes you feel so full, so—open.

"Come on, doll," Bucky presses a sweet kiss against your jaw. "Open your eyes. I wanna see you look at me—wanna see your pretty eyes."

Your eyes open back as the thrusting becomes more urgent and you stay locked into Bucky's steely grey eyes.

That's probably why he's different.

Because Bucky sees you differently.

He looks at you like you're the sweetest thing in the world—like you're the most precious thing he has. He sees you for your dreams, your hopes, and your fears. He looks at you and expects nothing from you except your love and your happiness.

You can see it all in his hot gaze, and it makes you whimper.

"There we go, doll, you're close, aren't you?" Bucky's helping you along as he thrusts upwards rhythmically at a steady pace.

It's so good, so fucking good. Better than with anyone else you've ever done it with before. Your hands grip at Bucky's shirt at his shoulders, nails lightly digging through.

"Bucky—" you whimper. It's so lewd, the way you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping together, the slickness gathering between your thighs. It brings you higher and higher and higher.

Bucky moans in your ear as your head drops against your hand on his shoulder. "Fuck, you feel really tight. So good, always mine. Come on, doll. Let go. Let go and cum all over me."

And when your clit drags over Bucky's skin, and he hits you deeply just the right way, you fall over the edge, right over him. You come with a strangled cry and clenching of your thighs. You hear Bucky's breath hitch, a soft swear at your walls fluttering around him as he thrusts upwards eagerly, chasing his own release.

When he comes, and you feel the comforting warmth of his spend inside you, you relax against him while he's still inside.

The mix of your heavy breathing and his pants come to a still, and you languidly lift your head to place a sweet kiss on his lips.

The feeling of displacement settles over you like it always does after you finish fucking Bucky. The same feeling of disillusionment that makes you feel hollow and numb.

Because despite whatever Bucky sees in you, you know it's nothing but a part of you you'll never be able to fully be.

Still, you press your lips insistently upon his, foolishly hoping that you could be what Bucky sees. Even if it's only when he's inside you—even if it's just for a moment.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

There's a reason Bucky likes fucking you (he secretly calls it making love to you, but he hasn't told you. Also because sometimes it is fucking).

Yes, it feels incredible, and it's fantastic every time. But there's something else. Bucky feels just a little closer to you when he makes you cum. Because in that one split second, that moment where you're on the precipice of wound up too tight and falling, you're entirely open to him.

You can't help but look openly vulnerable and can't help the raw emotion that crosses your face.

And Bucky is addicted to that.

He's not sure what he was expecting when he met you at Sam's cafe. A one-night stand or the occasional 2 AM booty call, maybe. It had easily turned into friends with benefits, and now they were dating.

Bucky has let himself fall completely. It was hard not to. You were too funny, too witty, too sarcastic, too soft, too loving, too everything. How could he not fall?

But while Bucky fell for you with no preparation for how he was going to land, you had fallen for him with a parachute.

He could sense you holding back. He could sense your sadness at times like you were upset with yourself for falling for him. Bucky doesn't take it to heart because there were times you openly adored him as well (when you're on that precipice of cumming and when you're gazing at him when you think he's fast asleep).

"How come we're always at my place?" Bucky asks as he strokes your back, feeling the familiar bumps of your spine. He tries not to go too low because you've got back dimples, and if he touches them, he'll definitely rile himself up to the point of railing you from behind again. He wants to talk because you only ever talk when he's fucked you so good; you're too relaxed to be on your guard.

"I like your place," you mumble sleepily against his chest.

"I mean, you make pretty good money, you must have a place way bigger than mine," Bucky muses.

You shrug.

"Perhaps but my place isn't like yours," you tell him, your index finger stroking his skin in a small line back and forth. "I don't spend a lot of time at my place, nor have I cared to decorate it. There's just a bunch of paintings and posh, modern-esque furniture."

Bucky is happy to listen as you intertwine your legs through his.

"I like your place because it's—like you. Your kitchen always smells like pasta. Your couch is well-worn in and you have throw pillows that don't match at all. Your bed is smaller than mine but I like it because we sleep closer together. And your sheets smell like you," you smile with your eyes closed.

"Like me?" He teases. "Hope that's good."

You hum. "Pinewood and clean laundry. I know you definitely wash it every week."

"You don't?" Bucky asked, his voice (mostly) jokingly aghast.

"Mm, the cleaners probably do," you mutter.

Bucky lets out a burst of quiet laughter. "Rich brat."

"Hey, I helped you wash dishes today."

"Ah, right, how could I forget your supervision. I wouldn't have been able to achieve clean dishes without you today."

"I'm glad you understand," you say cheekily.

Bucky merely pinches your side lightly as he rolls you over for a chaste kiss.

He sighs.

Bucky's fairly sure he's going to hit the ground and break all his bones, but he supposes that's alright. Because on the off chance your parachute doesn't work, or heaven forbid, you decide you can take it off, he'll still catch you—broken bones and all.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You're listening to Natasha give you the report, but your mind is miles and miles away.

Another gang fight broke out in the lower west part of your city today. Stark really seems to be testing your limits. To be fair, you just swiped one of his biggest clients from him and one of his shipments.

It's going to rear its ugly head soon. The way things are, it's going to escalate, and you'll probably start having to kill people. There's no hiding behind your father or Natasha anymore. You'll be the one who has to give the orders. You'll be directly responsible instead of indirectly and watching from the sidelines.

You just keep falling deeper and deeper into that person Bucky unknowingly despises.

"Hey."

You blink as you look up at Natasha from your desk.

"Everything okay, boss?" She asks you, and you snort.

"Don't call me that," you roll your eyes.

"Why? You are." Natasha smirked as she stood straight.

"Not to you. Dad took you in when you were a kid. You're family," you tell her softly, and Natasha allows herself to soften for the moment as well.

"You were an annoying sibling," Natasha says, ruining the entire moment.

"You were a sombre little thing. I was sure you were actually a granny in a kid's body," you rebuke back, causing the redhead to laugh.

"Alright, enough of that. What's wrong?" She asks you, and you bite the tip of your tongue.

You eventually let out a long sigh. "I don't know. I don't know how to handle all of this. I wasn't like you, Nat. Sure, sometimes I participated in meetings and learned the mechanics and the darker side of things Dad did, but I'm—I don't know. I knew I'd probably take over one day when Dad was like 102 years old and preferred bird watching instead of chasing deals and murdering people who messed with us. I always thought that taking over would be what I'd want too, after growing older."

"You don't want to?" Natasha frowned.

"I don't know," you swallowed. "I don't know anything anymore."

"Well," Natasha licked her lips, trying to conceal her concern for you. "What I can tell you now is that you need to arrange a meeting with Stark and settle this before it all gets very ugly."

You sigh.

"I know."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Between making sure you have enough time for Bucky and all the business of the Syndicate, you're starting to feel a little haggard because you're keeping secrets on both sides.

Until one gets discovered.

"Are you crazy?" Natasha hissed at you.

She cornered you two blocks down after you left Bucky's.

"Are you fucking trailing me?" You seethed at her.

"Of course I'm fucking trailing you!" Natasha exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "You've been acting all gloomy and strange. You've been putting things off, showing up late, and missing half the time. And now I'm finding out it's because of some guy? The dick can't be that good."

"Watch your mouth," you warn Natasha, jaw clenched.

"I'll watch my mouth when you put the Syndicate before him! This was your father's legacy," Natasha emphasized, frowning at you. "This is what he left behind, what supported our lifestyle for years. We have people we have to look after and you've been AWOL for some guy none of us have met!"

You stay silent, guilt thrumming in your chest because you can't seem to do it right anywhere.

"Is it serious?" Natasha asks you finally, and when you don't answer, she has hers.

"If it's serious, then you have few options. You know what they are," Natasha clenches her jaw. "You either leave him now and return to us or you reveal who you are and bring him into the Syndicate by marriage. You know what you have to do if you reveal yourself and he doesn't agree to be a part of the business, don't you?"

Kill him, your mind answers, but you continue to remain silent.

"You can't afford to be soft," Natasha reminds you. "Don't go soft on me because I have to be the one who hardens and cleans up your messes."

It was then your eyes met hers and flashes dangerously. "I'm fucking serious, Nat. Stay the fuck away from him. I might be shit at it but I still give the orders."

Natasha's nostrils flare at you, the way they do when you've argued with her when you were younger, and she's disappointed.

"Figure out what to do because that meeting with Stark is in one month when he's back. If you think your lover can't be with you for who you are, then leave him. This is my home too, don't run it into the ground with your father."

Natasha is quick to turn and leave after, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

She was right—that you needed to figure it out.

But you don't even know how to. How do you make sure Bucky could still love you even if you told him who you really were?

How do you make sure he still looks at you the way he does when he learns you're everything he hates?

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

"Bucky."

"Hm," Bucky looks at you while you lie in bed together. It's one of those rare nights the two of you have kept your hands to yourselves. But it's been a rather long day, and neither you want to admit it's also nice to be able to not fuck—like it means more somehow.

It's the perfect time to bring it up. After all, on your stroll back to his place, the two of you passed by a group of gangsters smoking and talking much too loudly.

You don't recognize them, so you know they aren't a part of your Syndicate. Your people are much more discreet, and they would never sit out in the open like that, flashing around their tattoos for everyone to see.

Still, Bucky makes a disgruntled face and a scoff after you pass them.

"Is there a reason you hate gangs and mobs so much?" You ask quietly as you lie on your side facing him, trying to not let your heart thud too hard.

"Is there a reason I need to?" Bucky turns to you with a cock of his brow.

"No," you answer honestly. "But most people just ignore them. You seem to have a personal grudge."

Bucky is silent for a moment as he stares at the dark ceiling. You're kind of glad it's a little too hard to see anything because you don't want to know his expression. Probably thinly veiled contempt for people like you—not that you could blame him.

Then Bucky sighs, pulling one of his arms from under his head to wrap around your body and pull you closer.

"I actually used to live here with someone else. The things you talked about loving are all the things he bought for me or taught me how to do," Bucky confesses quietly.

You listen quietly, unassuming and uninterrupting. Something tells you that this was the wrong thing to do.

You thought you could make Bucky continue to look at you the same if you just understood why he hated people like you. But maybe you were wrong.

"His name was Steven Grant Rogers, and he was—everything. My best friend, my brother, my confidant. We've been attached to the hip since pre-k. We scrapped, slummed, and lived good together," Bucky smiled in the dark as if he was fondly reliving memories. "Steve was a good guy, you know? He was always a little scrawny little thing, though. Oh, and terrible health problems. Asthmatic as hell. Little guy, big heart. He just—always wanted to be more."

"And?"

You expected something like how Steve had been in the wrong place, wrong time. Some mobsters killed poor Steven Grant Rogers.

It's how it always was.

But—

"Then Steve somehow got in with the wrong crowd. They were filling his head with ideas that he could be different—strong. They had him partying and easing him into drugs. It was weed at first, helped Steve a little with his sleeping problems. And then it just kept escalating. I tried to get him to stop, but it was just driving a rift between us. Steve always felt I never understood that part of his life—the desire to be something he wasn't," Bucky sighed.

"I thought Steve was already great—there just wasn't anything we could do about his physical health. We couldn't make him suddenly have a healthy body that could run 20 miles and make him shoot up a whole foot taller," Bucky was absently stroking your arm.

"I never knew which gang he was hanging out with, I think Steve hid it for my safety. But all I know is one night, I found a bunch of drugs he was supposed to drive over the border into Mexico. I told him he was fucking crazy and that shit would get him killed. There was no way he could smuggle it over. The dogs alone at the border would sniff it out," Bucky's voice was hard. "He had some plan but I couldn't even listen. Told Steve that if he wanted to get involved in this shit—shit he knew was wrong, then to get out and leave me out of it."

You feel something painful tugging at your chest. Maybe it was the way Bucky sounded so heartbroken.

Maybe because this was sounding familiar.

"Next thing I know, I'm getting a call from the hospital at 4 AM and I'm rushing to the ER but I'm too late. Dead before I could even leave the house," Bucky rasps.

You want to tell Bucky to stop—he doesn't have to bring this up. You're sorry for asking. You're so sorry.

But you remain still, hand tensely on his stomach. "Cops are all over me with questions before I can even process the fact Steve's gone. They're telling me they found him on the side of the road, bullets through his windshield and chest and his car had traces of coke. The bundles were gone, just sprinkles of it everywhere."

It's silent for a moment, with Bucky no longer talking. You feel his arm tight around you, chest taking heavy breaths.

You stroke his stomach, even though you also feel nauseous, but the gesture seems to soothe him enough to talk again.

"I think Steve realized that everything he was doing was wrong—that he'd gotten involved with something he never should've. I think he tried to turn around since his car was driving away from the border when they found it. And I think he tried to let them know he was bringing the goods back or bringing it to the cops to turn himself in alone. I'll never know what the guy was trying to do. Either way, it wasn't what the gangsters liked and they went out to find him. They went out to put a hole in his chest and take back their goods. They went out to kill him and leave him like it wasn't anything."

Bucky then turns to you. There's enough light from outside through the peek of the curtains. You see that Bucky's eyes are rimmed red.

Your chest aches because you know that Bucky misses Steve so much every day without a shadow of a doubt. He misses his friend so much; there's a part of him that's gone now too. It's a part no one, not even you, could fill.

"So, when you ask me why I hate people like them, that's why. Because they can go about their life doing shit like this to people like Steve and it's all just another body to them. Another faceless no one they don't even remember. And people like me can't do anything about it," Bucky's face is so close, you can feel his minty breath on your face.

Your eyes sting for a lot of different reasons.

You wrap your arm further around Bucky, pulling him in close to comfort him. Even though you're the last person who should.

Because your father is the reason why Steven Grant Rogers is dead.

No one knew him by that name, though.

They joked around with the scrawny man, calling him "Captain."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Steven Grant Rogers was a strange person your father used to tell you.

You had no interest in another asthmatic kid who wanted to join your father's Syndicate. He was just one of the other hundreds of similar guys who wanted to.

Everyone thinks being in a mob is glamourous, and parts of it are. But it's also gruelling work when you're at the bottom of the chain and when you get higher, the shit you have to do just gets more gruesome.

But your father always liked people with upstanding morals.

And apparently, Steve had enough to earn him the nickname Captain—or Cap.

You might've seen him once in passing. It was the time of your life where you were less present in the business. You simply preferred travelling and blowing massive amounts of daddy's money.

So, when you came home one day after Nat called you to say your father was upset and needed family, you were surprised to hear that Steve was dead.

Betrayed, your dad told you. Betrayed by Cap. A man who your dad took under his wing like his own. It was just an initiation job Steve was to do on his own.

And when Steve called your dad to say he couldn't do it, couldn't live like this anymore—wanted out. Your dad told him the same rules he's told everyone—even you.

There is no out. Blood in, blood out—that's the only way.

You look at Bucky's peacefully sleeping face. It was clear he felt lighter after confessing to you, opening up to you.

You felt the opposite.

You felt like the anchor to your ankle tightened, and you were sinking even faster than before.

Understanding Bucky only led to one thing—cementing his hatred for you once he found out.

You couldn't keep Bucky, nor could he keep you.

The choice was clear.

You had to leave him.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Bucky's not sure what he's done wrong.

You've stopped answering his calls and texts.

You've stopped showing up at his place. Everything that was you in his apartment is gone.

Not even a single sock left.

Well, that's not true.

You did leave something.

A post-it note that says, "It's over. I don't want to see you ever again. Don't reach out."

Cold.

Heartless.

The way you were when he first met you. It had lingered under the surface and never showed itself to him, but now it was directed at him.

It's possible you've blocked his number or changed it.

Bucky's sure he's hit the ground now, and his heart is the very first thing to break while his bones feel sore.

There's no closure, and Bucky doesn't think you'll ever give him one. He should just suck it up, take the loss, and move on. He should let time do its thing and forget about you.

But he can't.

Bucky was in too deep. He already knows. He's devastatingly in love with you.

That's why he has shown up at your place. It's much richer and posher than he ever expected. He knew the community you lived in—he's still surprised that he's stuck outside your gates.

Bucky showed up at 8 PM, and you weren't home. Now it was nearing 1 AM.

He looks up when he sees a black car pull up. It stops just a little ways away from him. The driver window rolls down for a brief moment before it rolls back up.

Then in the back, the door opens, and you step out.

You look...different. A little sharper than when you're with him.

You tap the driver's window.

"Are you sure?" Bucky hears faintly.

"Leave, and don't say a word to Nat," you warn.

Bucky blinks because he's never heard you sound so cold.

You wait until the car leaves until you can't see it anymore and turn to him, eyes dispassionate.

"Why are you here, Bucky? Didn't you get my letter?" You ask him plainly.

Bucky gets up with a grunt, frowning at you.

"Can you even call that a letter? You wrote it on a sticky note," Bucky quirks his brow at you.

"All I had at the time," you shrug as you walk past him, entering the code to your gates, and it opens. "The message remains the same. It's over and I don't want to see you."

But Bucky grabs your hand as he trailed after you.

"Why? Why is it over? Did I do something?" Bucky asks you, trying to not sound desperate, but his eyes give that away.

You keep walking, pulling your hand out of Bucky's.

"No, you didn't." You said briskly as you reached your front steps. You turn to him. "Go home, Bucky. It's over because it just is. Are you going to stand there and try to make me stay with you? Is that the kind of man you are?" You taunt him.

Bucky bristles at your words, trying to push them aside because you're only saying them to get a rise out of Bucky—to make him quit.

But he won't.

"No, but until you tell me why it's over and until it's a reason I can accept, I'm not going home," Bucky insists. "You don't get to say you woke up one moment because you suddenly fell out of love—and don't play stupid and act like you don't love me. I know you do, I've already known for months."

You swallow harshly as Bucky pushes past you into your home.

It's as lonely as you described.

Meaningless art with posh furniture.

"I have nothing to say to you, Bucky. Leave before I get mean with you," you warn him, threaten him.

Bucky snorts. "Mean with me, doll? You don't think you're already being mean? You left a sticky note saying it was over and not to seek you out. I think you're already past mean. You're fucking hostile."

You purse your lips because you're frustrated.

Why couldn't Bucky just be the man who cursed you, wished you ill, and forgot about you?

Why did he have to come here and be so annoyingly persistent?

"I'm just over you, Bucky," you say dispassionately. "What we had was good but I'm done with it now. Don't tell me just because I fucked you on the daily—because we ate together that you thought I wanted that forever. I'm doing that with three different guys right now."

That causes a look of anger in Bucky's eyes, and you hope that he'll just call you names and then leave.

"No," Bucky grinds out. "I thought you wanted that forever because after you fucked me, you stayed in my bed—in my arms as you fell asleep. Because before and after we ate, we did everything and nothing and all that's in between. You're pretty stellar, doll, but even you don't have enough time or energy to do that with three different guys."

"Just get out and leave, Bucky. How many times does a girl have to tell you that she's fucking over you for you to leave? Are you always this pathetic?" You tilt your head with a smirk. "What? Do you want to have breakup sex before it's over? Or do you think your dick is so good it might be able to convince me to stay?"

Bucky just stares at you.

This isn't you.

And no matter how many terrible things you say to him, he's never going to believe that's how you truly feel.

Because the only way for Bucky to confirm that is to get you on that precipice.

Bucky surges forward, catching you in a surprising kiss as he backs you into your too expensive couch.

You moan instantly in his mouth.

"Moaning just from that, doll?" Bucky taunts you. "Maybe my dick might be good enough to convince you at the very least you're wrong."

Bucky's kissing you again, pulling you close to him as he strokes down your side, pulling one thigh open for him to fall between your legs.

When his erection hits your clothed pussy, you arch your back, whimpering in his mouth as your hips rise.

"I really hope you're not seeing three guys because you're so fucking needy for me right now. That would just be sad if none of them are taking care of you properly," Bucky's just being mean now, and you deserve it for breaking his heart and trying to rub salt in his very open wounds.

But Bucky's much kinder than you and goes back to silently making his point instead of dishing back what you gave.

He makes work of kissing your neck, sucking and licking as his fingers unbutton your shirt. He presses his hand against your back, lifting you to take your shirt off before unhooking your bra and throwing that away too.

"Always so pretty," he mutters before he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and nipping until the nub becomes a hard pebble.

His fingers have already dipped into your pants, past your underwear, as his calloused pads of his fingers slip through your folds. Bucky rubs you lewdly, firmly, without holding back as he circles your clit and teasingly presses against your entrance.

You get slick for him easily and quickly, your mouth letting out pants and moans for him as you try to make work of undoing his belt and pulling down his zipper.

You don't want the foreplay, and it's clear Bucky is getting you soaked to take his cock tonight.

When Bucky pulls his hand out, grabbing onto the edge of your pants and panties as he rips it down, you're too eager to help him help you out of them. He makes quick work of his own pants and shirt before he spreads you as wide as he can.

With one sharp thrust, he sinks into you fully, stretching you so wide and filling you up.

You let out a hot moan when he settles all the way in. Fuck, he was perfect. He filled you so good, so perfectly. You missed it.

Bucky presses his entire front against you, pressing you firmly into the couch as he kisses you deeply for a moment. He pulls back just enough that his lips are ghosting over yours.

And then he fucks you.

His thrusts are deep and punishing. He changes his angle and continuously swipes over that spongy, bumpy spot in you. Over and over until you're legs are wrapped around his hips so tightly like you want to keep him in you.

Your hands are gripping the back of his hair as you whimper and cry, choking on your moans as Bucky whispers in your ear, trying to push you to that edge.

"You know you're mine, doll. Why are you pretending you aren't? I'm out here giving all of myself to you and you're trying to pretend you don't want me? It's hard to pretend right now, though, isn't it? When you're wrapped so tightly around my cock, thrusting against me so desperately because you want me to make you cum," Bucky nibbles your ear, causing a high-pitched yelp from you. "Fuck, you're always so tight for me. How are you always so fucking tight? You love me, admit you love me."

You shake your head, trying to breathe through the quickly rising wave that wants to crash. You try to stave off your impending orgasm, the one that would be admitting how much you want Bucky, but he isn't having any of that.

"Oh, no," Bucky tuts. "Don't go doing that now, doll. Open your eyes for me. Open them right now because you know I like seeing your pretty eyes when you cum for me."

You try to refuse, but when Bucky's gripping the back of your hair, a hot wave of arousal pulses through you as your eyes snap open and you stare into his eyes.

Even when he's mad at you, even when he's heartbroken. He still looks at you so openly.

That too tight coil in you snaps when Bucky's hand slides down to thrum at your clit.

You cum with a choked whimper, thrusting upwards into him as he curses and smashes his lips against yours. His hips move jaggedly until you feel his hot spend coat your walls, filling you and dripping out.

He falls on top of you; though heavy, his weight is comforting. It's just the sounds of heavy breathing from the two of you that fill the room.

When it finally calms down, Bucky lifts himself to hover over you. He's got that look of triumph on his face. He's got that look because he got you on that precipice, and just before you came, he got the truth he wanted.

You want him. You love him. And for some reason, you won't let yourself.

You stare at him, feeling—numb.

"Still want to tell me you're over me?" Bucky asks softly.

You fight tooth and nail in your own body to not let the tears well up.

You swallow. You need to shove down those feelings, even though they were right on the surface for Bucky to see.

Because if lying to him won't work anymore, then you'll tell the truth. And you'll do it the way that forces you to face your worst fear.

Seeing how that look of love will really turn to hate for all the right reasons instead of the lie you tried to build.

"Fine," you say, no longer dispassionate and instead with nothing but emotion. "I'm not over you. I'm never going to be over you. But we're never going to work, Bucky. And you know why?"

You use your strength and his lack of awareness to flip the two of you over. He's still in you when you're on top of him.

You stare down at him, and you can't help the burn in the back of your eyes. Why does he have to look so—Bucky.

You lean down, so you're closer to his face.

"My father is the man who killed Steve Rogers. Congratulations, Bucky. You've gone and fell in love with the daughter of the Syndicate that got your friend killed. And you know what else? You're also fucking the boss of that Syndicate now." You watch as Bucky's eyes go wide, shock registering in his system. It's all you can take. You don't want to watch the shock go away and morph into something else.

You slide off of him, resisting the urge to moan as he slides out of you.

You get up, collecting his clothes and dumping them on him. You stare down at him, and you know your eyes are rimmed red as he sits up and stares back at you.

"So, if you're done trying to make me stay and realize you should've gone—go home. And don't come back. We could never work, and this is where you realize you don't want it to."

You grab your shirt, if only to put it on to cover your physical nakedness. It doesn't help you stop feeling vulnerable.

You turn to leave, ready to go upstairs and leave Bucky to go alone. He could break your shit for all you care—could burn the house right down with you in it, and it would've been fine.

But somehow, somehow, Bucky's grabbing your hand again.

You turn to him, exasperated and tears in your eyes.

"Bucky—"

"Will you just stop trying to leave for one damn minute!?" He shouts at you, and you're stung into surprise.

"Let me just fucking process everything for a second," Bucky frustratingly says as he pulls you back to the couch and forces you to sit down.

"What's there to process?" You bite out. "I'm a crime boss of a Syndicate and my family is the one who got Steve killed. Stop trying to make excuses for me and just—leave. You hate these kinds of people, Bucky. And I'm at the top of those kinds of people. It's time to wake up and realize you hate me."

"Don't tell me what to feel, doll," Bucky says warningly at you. "I have questions and you're going to answer them."

You're silent, ready for the questions and also not ready.

"Your dad is dead?"

"Yes."

"How."

"Heart attack."

"Why did he kill Steve?"

"He said he took Steve in like one of his own and Steve betrayed him. I'm assuming that meant Steve was going to try to turn himself in or the drugs. It would've led back to the Syndicate."

"Did you have anything to do with it?"

"No, I wasn't interested in the business during this time. I don't remember ever meeting Steve."

"Have you done anything like this since taking over?"

"No. I can't say I'm a good crime boss. I know how the business works and I can do parts of it, but everything was rather—sudden." You look away. It's not fair to be sad about your dad's death with Bucky right there. You hate yourself when Bucky squeezes your hand.

You wish he'd let go.

"You've killed people then?"

"I've sent orders. Usually wars between other Syndicates. We're in a tough period since my dad has passed. A lot of people are trying to take advantage of the new kid in power—even if the Syndicate belongs to me by blood," you confess, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

It's silent for a minute, and you want to pull your hand away if Bucky wasn't holding it so tightly.

Bucky just stares at you while you look straight forward.

"One more question," Bucky says slowly. "Is this what you continue to want? Do you want to be the crime boss of a Syndicate? Is this the life you want?"

You turn to stare at Bucky. His face holds no emotion, so you have no idea how he's feeling and for once, his eyes are guarded.

You knew it would be, but it still stung.

You let out a sigh.

"No," you finally say. "I did—at one point. Inheriting all this was always part of the plan. I just thought in some vague distant far part of the plan. I never really thought about it much. I'm capable of this work but I just—" you shook your head.

"Stop holding back," Bucky pushes you because he's not letting you hide this time. If he's going to fall, he's not going to let you dawdle if you want a parachute or not while joining him. He's going to rip your parachute right off.

You swallow as you look at him. "I just—want you. I didn't think meeting you would lead to all of this. But now, I can't stop wanting something that's going to get us both killed. I want to live in Barcelona where you sell stupid boats and I actually am a paint dealer because we do need money. I want that if I look out the window, I can see you all day and then we eat ridiculously good food that we both have concerns about becoming unhealthily obese quickly and both not really care because that's our life. Working weird hours and eating whatever we want when we want."

Bucky squints his eyes at you, unsure of what to make of what you're saying, but it's blooming something in his chest. It's all painful and muddled up with everything else that has happened recently.

He wonders why in this fantasy, he sells boats. Are boats popular in Barcelona?

You're quiet again, and Bucky has finally run out of questions. He leans back against your posh couch and thinks about how it's not worn in enough.

Bucky thinks about so many things.

He thinks about Steve and wonders if it's still okay to love you. It's easier knowing you had nothing to do with his death.

While it'd be easier to blame you because of your blood relations, Steve would probably punch him in the mouth. He's a good guy like that.

Is it still okay to love you knowing you've got blood on your hands? That you're capable of getting more if you had to.

Bucky's not sure.

But it doesn't stop his heart from feeling what it does.

He turns to you, and you watch him with open eyes. He wants to laugh. How the tables have turned.

"I love you," Bucky says, and he watches you swallow with tears in your eyes. "I love you even though you're the kind of people I hate. I love you and I want that kind of life you've just talked about. I'm not 100% sold on the boat idea, though."

You choke on a laugh.

Bucky smiles. He's super tired.

"Can we have that though?" He asks, and you know what he's really asking.

Are you willing to abandon everything to have that life?

Bucky's no stranger to blood in, blood out. You don't get special treatment just because you're a crime boss. If anything, it's harder.

You stare at him.

Finally, you're really looking at him with everything you have, and it feels so—right.

You lean over to kiss him, revelling in the way he kisses you back.

Because Bucky Barnes loves you. He loves you even though he knows the truth.

"Yes," you tell him. "Hope you don't sunburn easily. Also boats are a great idea, you'll see."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

The meeting with Stark had been a bust. His ego is way too big to even consider a détente.

It had ended with people being killed on both sides as you both escaped. You hadn't been in a good mood, and that was when you realized Bucky was sitting on the ground outside your gates.

Still, it was the best thing that he could've done. You're glad you're terrible with emotions and thought a sticky note would really keep him away.

Or maybe you knew it wouldn't. Maybe you held onto hope even though there was no reason for you.

There was some intel that Stark was planning to blow up one of your warehouses in the next week. It would probably be one of the bigger ones. He did want to try to stick it to you and cost your Syndicate money.

Well.

That was Natasha's problem now.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asks with a frown.

She's family. The most wonderful thing you have left of this world.

The only one who could understand that it doesn't have to be blood in, blood out.

Because she's not your blood, and she's family, your inner family.

"I think it's for the best," you mutter as you fidget with a puzzle. "I told you I wasn't like you. You're more fit to run this thing if you want to keep it out of the ground."

"But your father—"

"—is dead," you finish as you look up at her.

"If he wants to keep his legacy running, then he'll jump for joy at the thought of you taking over because I'm the selfish daughter that would run it into the ground," you smile prettily while Natasha scoffs.

"You love him that much?" She asks.

For a moment, you soften, the way Natasha has never seen you before.

"So much that I'd come up with new rules to be with him," you say quietly. "Besides, we're the new generation. We should make our own rules. Get married or die is way outdated."

"Ah, yes," Natasha said dryly. "I love faking your own death to be with the man you love because he can't stomach joining a mob Syndicate because his best friend was murdered by one is so much better."

"It's interesting at least," you laugh. "Besides, it'll give leeway for you to take over much easier. I even left my will here. See?"

Natasha clicks her tongue at it.

"You have everything else prepared?" Natasha asks, and you nod.

"All the stuff I need to start over is good to go."

"And did you..."

"Clean up loose ends? Yes," you sigh. "Bucky wasn't happy with me."

"And he just forgave you?"

"It helped I chose someone who also dabbled in child pornography to set up our documents. I don't think Bucky was too morally conflicted to see him go," you shrugged. "He helped me get rid of the body."

"Glad you two are bonding," Natasha shook her head with a sigh.

You hum.

It's a long moment before Natasha pulls you in for a rare, tight hug.

"Be safe," she mumbles. "Don't actually get blown up. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," you hug her back, tears welling in your eyes. "We'll meet again if we ever cross paths. Hopefully after you're a badass crime boss that's taken Stark down a few notches. I mean, you have to avenge my tragic death."

Natasha just laughs.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

1 year later...

You hear the door ring as it opens.

You look up from the counter and give a hopeless grin.

"Back again, Rafael?" You sigh. "What did you do this time?"

The man just laughs as you start preparing a bouquet for him.

"I brought home the wrong ice cream," he says with a shrug.

You click your tongue at him. "How could you forget again? You did this three weeks ago."

"She changes her favourite flavour every week! I can't keep up," Rafael frowned.

"She's making a human, a human that's half yours," you quirk a brow at him. "She's entitled to changing her ice cream flavour if she wants."

Rafael sighs but good-naturedly as you finish fixing his bouquet.

"I should go talk to Steve out there, huh? All he does is sell boats and manage to keep you happy. How is that?"

You smile as you look at the window, staring at your husband, who is fixing up a boat. It's like he can sense when you're looking at him as he looks up, giving you a charming smirk.

"Stevie's a whole other level. It's best not to compare. He's crazily good at knowing everything about me by just looking into my eyes."

"But how!" Rafael exclaims.

"Um, something about precipice and practice," you tilt your head.

"Unhelpful," Rafael tuts, and you laugh.

"I'll give a ten percent discount due to my unhelpfulness, how's that?"

"You are an angel. Maybe I should try to look in your eyes and see if I have this superpower too," Rafael waggles his brow, and before you can retort, the door rings again as it opens.

"Stop hitting on my wife, Rafael, you're going to end up having to come back twice if your wife finds out."

You look up and see your husband, tanned and delicious.

"And who would tell her?" Rafael quirked his brow.

"Me, and I'm sure she's already one step from leaving you if you dawdle any longer with your flowers and ice cream," your husband smirks.

Rafael curses as he winks at you before giving your husband a nod and leaves.

When it's just the two of you, you beckon him closer to the counter. You tug on his shirt as you pull him in for a sweet kiss.

"Hi," you say.

"Hi," he husks back.

"I miss calling you Bucky," you sigh.

"Stevie's not as fun?" Bucky smiles.

"It's alright," you crinkle your nose.

"You can still call me Bucky in bed," he waggled his eyebrows at you as he hops over the counter to kiss you again.

"Mm," you hum in pleasure. "We'll see if we're up for those kinds of activities after we go eat tonight."

Bucky looks excited. "Can we go to the usual? I can't get enough of the calamari."

You snicker but nod before you look around.

"I can't believe you went and opened a flower shop too. Isn't art dealing enough?" Bucky sighs.

"The flower shop is just an add on, you big baby. I meet my clients here and they like buying flowers too. Besides, you like seeing me here every day. And I like it too," you pout.

Bucky sighs. "Shit, we're that clingy couple. Can't function without seeing each other."

You smile.

"That's a good thing," you decide.

"You're a good thing," Bucky shoots back haughtily like you should be offended.

You roll your eyes as you pull Bucky in for another kiss—much longer and deeper. You love that he still smells like pinewood and clean laundry. But now he also smells like the ocean, and you adore it. Because the ocean was something you added to him.

"Always let me be your good thing," you mutter against his lips.

Fin

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Moodboard: @empyreanwritings 💕💕

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

I love these two so much 😭💕 If this flops I will actually pretend this never happened LMAO so please comment & reblog if you enjoyed 😊

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #mobster!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x mob!reader #modern avengers au #avengers au #avengers imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #g.fluff #g.angst #v.myfic

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Note

may i please have some soft jeff hc 🙏🏻 i love that man sm please - twilight anon

Soft Jeff the Killer Headcanons

You absolutely may!

So, not many people acknowledge it, but Jeff has a really strong sense of justice.

I'm talking that he firmly believes you only pick on people your own size. Never smaller. If he sees proxies mistreating independents, he will absolutely throw hands with the proxies because independents are HIS business.

He is an independent after all!

Jeff has such a soft spot for furry animals, but especially dogs. He adores dogs. And dogs adore him!

I swear his true best friend is Smile dog.

He will give that dog so many treats despite knowing damn well that's a whole demon just taking the form of a dog.

Jeff's relationship with EJ is pretty solid too. They're polar opposites but just click and often have each other's back like no one else.

BEN has always gotten along with Jeff. They can talk just by looking at each other.

I get the vibe he likes Doja Cat. I think that's soft. He won't let anyone know that though,,,,,,,

Jeff is surprisingly emotionally intelligent. Does he always use that? No, but when he does, he gives some of the most solid support and advice - on all facets. Emotional, physical, and mental.

Jeff really likes mornings. He's terrible at getting up, but he just loves seeing the sun come up. It just makes him happy, he can't really explain it. He's the kind of guy to sit on the porch, cup of coffee or something and watch the sun rise.

He actually sleeps more during the day—but he does like the way the sun peeks over the horizon.

Don't get him wrong though, he loves the night too. He likes wandering around and just going to places other people wouldn't. Alleyways, abandoned places, just exploring.

Jeff likes the lights of cities over the stars ngl. He gets a rush being on a high rise's balcony and seeing the buildings lit up.

Jeff is a pretty good friend too. He will always make you laugh, even if it's inappropriate.

He's still rough around the edges though, but he cares.

Honestly if you feed him he'll like you. He's like a feral dog. Feed him and sometimes run your fingers through his hair and he's probably going to like you.

You can touch his hair, but only if he absolutely trusts you. It's actually not that greasy - he's surprisingly good at taking care of it.

If he does like you, please braid his hair or do something with it lmfao. It's so relaxing to him.

He giggles more than he'd like to admit.

He has like, three white hoodies he moves through. They're all blood stained but he calls that character. They don't actually smell like iron though, they mostly smell like balsawood.

Please make this man wear facemasks to rehydrate his skin. He's open to it but you gotta bully him into doing it.

Jeff is attempting to learn how to cook.

If he likes you he might call you "babe" or "doll". This isn't even romantic, he just likes giving nicknames to people.

I've written in some of my other works "sunshine," "sunspot," and "bird" as some of his favorites to use - bird only comes with people he GENUINELY cares for. Again, doesn't have to be romantic.

You can honestly get high with him, he's really fun to be high with.

He will go to weird chain restaurants with you at 2 am. Like McDonalds. You want that? okay, get in the car.

He honestly won't harm smaller things, especially animals.

He likes spicy food. The spicier the better.

Jeff is pretty nomadic - I think all the creeps are, but Jeff especially. He kinda just wants to see the whole of the US, maybe other places who knows.

Everyone knows about him, and that honestly stresses him out ever so slightly? The fact that so many people know him as a legend means he has a name to live up to. He escapes this by wandering, not speaking to anyone. Maybe EJ and Smile, that's it.

He plays video games with BEN. They end up stopping like halfway through just to talk.

Honestly Jeff is really good at conversation, it's just that seldom break down his walls to actually see that. BEN, and EJ were able to do that and they see a side of Jeff that just doesn't exist to anyone else.

When it rains, Jeff takes naps. Just curls up by the window and listens to the rain falling on the earth. It's super peaceful for him.

I also think he took up guitar. It just seems like something he'd do. Sometimes, if you're in the same house as him and really, really quiet, you can hear him playing it. He's getting better.

This man doesn't know how to accept compliments and will often deflect it like "you're lying," at worst and "you're better though" at best.

He hums to himself a lot. Also has a habit of talking to himself.

Just let him do that - it's how he processes stuff.

Jeff has a strange affinity for candles. He just thinks they're neat. There's literally no practical reason for him and candles, he just likes them. Is it the scent? The color? Who knows.

He tells stories like no one else! Sit by the campfire with him and listen to his wacky tales.

He will,,,,, tell you bs about other people he's met, mostly if they deserve it.

Jeff really likes games - from monopoly to cards against humanity and even chess. He likes that stuff. The more people involved, the better.

He has one knife he favors over all the others, has named it, but acts like he hasn't.

Jeff doesn't mind being alone or with other people, but he'll never actually say which he's preferring in the moment.

He's rough okay. He's just not that soft of a guy, but it shows. It shows in how gentle he is with the stray dogs he befriends in whatever neighborhood he's in, how he'll protect those he perceives as weaker than him, how he's willing to talk people down from their emotional highs even if it's an ungodly hour of the day, how he acts like an older brother if he likes you and will give you tough love when he thinks you need it.

Jeff has his moments, and sometimes, they're good.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta headcanon #jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta jeff the killer #jtk

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐂𝐄𝐎!/𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨) 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐞𝐨/𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲! 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝐊 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲/𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭), 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @multidreams-and-desires @galaxteez @yunhoiseyecandy @atiny-ahgase

⊱✿⊰─━━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━─⊱✿⊰

After arranging and rearranging the boxes and bags layed out on the king sized bed, Yunho calmly took a step back to make sure everything looked ok. He let out a frustrated groan as he began second guessing himself.

"What if she doesn't like them?"

He had no time to ponder more on that question as the doorbell rang, letting him know the very person he was talking about was already there. He scurried out the bedroom, as he passed the living room, he stopped and ran back inside it to pick up the bouquet of roses that he nearly forgot about. Making sure to straighten out his posture, he nervously reached for the handle before turning it to open the door, hiding the bouquet behind his back.

"Hi." The person standing there waved at him, her eyes lighting up when she saw him.

"Hey you....." He had an equally flustered smile plastered on his face as he gazed down at the pretty face in front of him.

The girl shifted awkwardly in place, looking side to side as she waited for him to say something.

"So.....did you have fun on your trip?" She finally asked.

He let out a chuckle.

"Hardly. It was literally all work the entire time and I was just frustrated and stress and- Oh! I'm sorry Y/N. Please come inside."

He stepped aside to let her enter into his penthouse apartment, which she hadn't been in for the 4 months he was away on a business trip. Closing the door behind him, he faced her and produced the flowers he was hiding up to the point.

"Here. I brought them for you." He held them out towards her.

"Oh my gosh they're beautiful! Thank you!" She thanked him as she admired the gift he'd given her.

"And that's not all! I got you a few other things while I was away!"

Taking her hand in one of his large ones, he excitedly led her into the room that had been specifically decorated, prepared and set aside just for her whenever she'd come over and stayed with him for long periods of time. Standing behind her, he led her inside, his hands now covering her eyes as he whispered tiny instructions on how many steps to take and where to turn.

"Ta da!" He cheered enthusiastically.

Opening her eyes, she was bewildered by the dozens upon dozens of designer and luxury named bags and boxes that no doubt contained clothes, jewelry, shoes and probably a few articles of lingerie. She smiled softly at his kind gesture

"It's wonderful.....thank you." She turned to him.

"Do you want to look through them now?" He was already reaching for one of the bags.

"Oh....perhaps later..." She suggested.

Sensing something like disappointment, Yunho sighed.

"Don't you like them? Were they not what you wanted? Was there something specific you would have rather liked?" He was ready to give her the world, all she needed to say was the word and he'd bend earth and sky for her.

"No! I love them, I do! It's just...." She looked down, somewhat afraid of saying out loud what it was she really wanted.

Wanting to soften her up, his fingers cupped her chin, lifting it up so he could look at her eyes.

"Tell me babygirl. Just ask and it shall be yours." He assured her.

She bit her lip, that action alone making him lick his own and wish it was his own teeth that were fulfilling that action instead on her.

"I really just wanted to spend time with you.....maybe watch a movie together and.....cuddle?"

Without realizing it, her hands began pinching at the soft material of his black turtleneck, bottom lip pouting upwards like a child awaiting to be refused. The tall male let out a soft and low chuckle.

"That's it? Is that really all my darling wants?" He kissed her forehead in disbelief.

She whined in a rather cute yet frustrated way.

"It's just you've been gone for so long and I missed you. Is that a crime?" She defended herself.

He shook his head then swiftly scooped her up in his arms and began carrying her out into the living room.

"Nope and honestly I'm happy you suggested it. I missed my babygirl as well."

She blushed slightly when he pressed a rather hard and long kiss to her cheek before sitting her down on his lap and turning on the huge television in front of them. They both agreed to watch a new movie that had just recently came out, all of their friends having been raving about it making them curious and wanting to see what it was about. From the looks of it, it seemed to be another typical romantic movie, which neither of them minded. Neither were hardly paying attention to the movie, one more occupied in poking either side of her ribcage or pinching her thighs, while she playfully slapped his giant hands away, often whining which resulted in him wrapping his arms more tightly around her, face pressing against her shoulder as he bounced her on his lap.

When they finally decided to just stop and watch the movie, it had suddenly taken another turn that was not very PG at all. A rather erotic and explicit R rated scene came up, leaving them both gulping and making them both sweat nervously. They both thought it'd be over soon, like any other cliche Hollywood sex scene that would only last a minute or two, but they were surprised that almost 10 minutes later, it was only getting more and more kinky which had both of them awkwardly sitting there.

Y/N could feel the way Yunho's fingers began to slowly rub circles along her hip bones, sometimes digging harshly into her skin. She began to think of all the other places she'd rather have his fingers in, like her mouth, around her neck or slipping inside her womanhood which was getting more wet the more sensual his touches became. The fake moans coming from the actors on screen made her think of all the times Yunho had gone rough on her, teasing her relentlessly and making her have one orgasm after another because he always wanted more, never satisfied with having her cum just once. Those thoughts were so wrapped up in her mind, she didn't realize she had began grinding herself against Yunho's lap until his hands suddenly held her in place, stilling her movements.

Inhaling a raspy breath, her eyes fluttered close when he began pressing open mouth kisses to the side of her neck and shoulder.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you.."

One of his hands moved to slip inside her shorts, pushing past her cotton panties to start stroking gently at her little nub, eliciting soft moans and breaths to protrude from her lips.

"So let me show you princess just how much daddy missed you."

She let out a pleasured hum at having him call her that nickname that he reserved especially for these moments. With his hand buried in between her legs, he moved his fingers down further, slipping one of his long fingers into her entrance, probing around her walls as his kisses to her neck became more sloppy and hungry.

"You're already super wet. Did you miss me that much? Hmm? Did my little princess miss her daddy?"

She couldn't help but nod.

"Y-yes, I missed you so much daddy." She gasped when a second finger entered her, speedily thrusting in and out of her. She couldn't help but grind down onto his hand.

Yunho let out a groan.

"Do you like my fingers that much princess?" He cooed in her ear.

"Yes! Oh my God! I love your fingers so much!" She cried out.

Snorting softly, he used his free hand to trail up her neck before running his thumb across her bottom lip. Knowing exactly what he was hinting at, she obediently opened her mouth.

"That's it princess. Such a good girl. Suck on my fingers....fuck- yes, just like that."

She didn't protest as he slipped 3 of his fingers in her mouth, she just enveloped them inside her wet cavern and sucked on them as though they were one of the delicious candies he often brought her from some foreign country. She moaned around his fingers, as his other hand worked her closer to her incoming orgasm. Although she wanted to hold out a little longer, it had been far too long since she'd had something that wasn't her own fingers, or one of the many toys she'd been spoiled with, inside her pussy. And Yunho's touch was so addicting, always knowing exactly how to push her over the edge in such little time. He could feel it too, he knew she was ready to burst at any second.

"Cum...cum for me princess. You deserve it."

His fingers pushed deeper in her mouth, making her release a series of choked out moans as her hips shook, liquids pouring out of her and covering Yunho's hand in a sticky mess. Although his fingers stopped moving inside her, his thumb continued to rub at her clit, helping to ride her out of her orgasm, only stopping when she finally stopped moving her hips.

Pulling his fingers out of her soaked hole, he brought them up to his lips and shamelessly sucked off the secretions left on it.

"Still tasting as delicious as ever." He purred in her ear.

His immense hands suddenly turned her over, placing her on top of his thigh.

"Ride it baby. Put on a little show for me."

Although she was always shy about riding his thick thighs, she never refused him, knowing he was always gentle and helped her throughout it since she was still pretty new to it. Her hands grasped at his shoulders to help stabilize her as her hips began rutting against his clothed thighs. Her ruined underwear was now painfully clinging to her soaked pussy, only attaching itself more to her skin the more she grinded herself against her lover's body.

Yunho watched with hooded eyes as her head fell back, exposing more of her beautiful neck, eyes shut tight as she fucked herself on his thigh. His hands went over to grab at her ass cheeks, kneading her soft flesh in between his fingers, massaging them gently and guiding them to help her find the best pleasure possible.

"There you go baby, keep doing that. You're doing such a good job my darling. Look at you looking so pretty."

She couldn't control herself as she began riding his thigh with more intensity, loving all the praises being spilled out of his mouth just for her. Yunho knew it too, knew how much she loved to be dotted on in such a way by him.

"Yeah you like being called that? Like being daddy's good little girl? Cause that's what you are right?" He flexed his thigh, slightly rubbing more against her, a wet patch becoming visible on his trousers as she began soaking through her clothes.

"Yes! I'm your good girl daddy! Wanna be good just for you." She cried out as she began to frantically hump his thigh, another orgasm fast approaching her.

"You're such a good girl princess..just for me right? Be my good princess and cum again, can you do that again for me? Yes you can, go ahead."

His hands flew to grasp at her waist, holding her in place as her arms fell back onto the leather couch beneath her and held her body up as she came on top of him, her hips unable to ride her through her orgasm so Yunho continued rubbing his thigh in between her legs so her orgasm wouldn't be ruined. He loved watching her eyes shut tight, the corners spilling out a few droplets of tears as an overwhelming pleasure took her over countenance, leaving her breathless for a few seconds.

Once she recovered from that high, she opened her eyes to find Yunho staring at her with such ardent passion burning in his eyes. His lips flew up to kiss hers fervently, his body pushing her down onto the couch. His hands entangled themselves on hers and held them up above her head. She shivered when she felt his bulge rub against her inner thigh, making her excited at the thought of having it inside her once again.

"Such a pretty and beautiful baby. I know I say it a lot but I truly mean it."

Tilting her head to the side so it'd be easier for him to leave marks along the side of her neck, her smiled at the loving compliments he kept showering her with.

"You're such a sight to behold." He was practically growling as his mouth ravished at the tender skin of her neck, marking as he pleased, after all.....

She was all his and belonged to him and him only.

"My beautiful little princess."

Sitting up, he began ridding her of her shorts, her panties dragged along with them, tossed onto the floor. Yunho groaned at the sight of her glistening folds, looking plump and pink hued from the previous administrations he had placed on it.

"Fuck....I really need to be inside you.. ....

Right. Now."

She let out a squeal as he turned her to her side, laying down beside her in a spooning position. She giggled as she heard the sound of his belt being undone, followed by his trousers being pulled down to his thighs so he could take his cock out. Pumping himself a few times, he lined himself up against her entrance before pushing in, barely fitting the enormous head in.

"God princess! You're tighter than usual."

She bit down at her shirt sleeve in an effort to quiet down her whimpers as he slowly pushed more of his length in her.

"You ok? Want me to stop?" He rubbed her cheek in a soothing motion.

Shaking her head, she urged him to keep going.

"P-please...w-want daddy's monster cock inside my tiny pussy." She begged, her ass pressing back onto him to fit more of him in her.

Yunho hissed as he moved forward, finally fitting his entire length inside her warm and inviting walls.

"Fuck, you're practically squeezing the life out of me. I'm not sure you'll be able to take me."

Of course he was just taunting her at this moment, wanting to get her begging for him to fuck her as he wanted to.

"Yes I can!" She refuted his statement.

"Oh? But I don't think you can princess. I can barely move inside you. You're such a small and tiny doll compared to me.....I'm afraid I might break you." He teased her.

She whined, enjoying how he used his size against her.

"I'm small but I can take daddy's big cock. Please, break me, I can take it." She wiggled her ass to get her point across.

Getting the ok, Yunho began to slip in and out of her slowly, her walls stretching out to accommodate his length better. They both released a series of sinful sounds, both overjoyed at being connected once again after being separated for too long. Y/N's stinging in her core was replaced by ecstasy as Yunho began to speed up his thrusts, her body once again familiarizing itself with his size.

Yunho's hand that was resting on her hip moved to cup her lower abdomen, muttering curses as he felt the bulge protruding in her.

"Feel that my little doll? You're so small I can feel all of me move in and out of you."

She had tears trickling down her cheeks from the immense feeling his cock and words were giving her.

"Fuck! You're so tight little one! One might believe I don't fuck you enough." He giggled as he began nibbling at her earlobe.

Her breaths became more ragged and shaky as she approached her third orgasm of the day, walls clenching around Yunho. His hand that was on her abdomen, grabbed her own and placed it where his previously rested.

"Feel that princess? Feel me in you? Can you believe that it's really you taking me so well?"

She was releasing whimpered yelps at this point, hips snapping against her at a rough and deep pace, his gigantic length fucking her out of her mind.

"Daddy! I'm-I'm-"

His hands reached inside her shirt, groping at her soft breasts, fingers pinching at her nipples as he fucked her into another orgasm that had her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Feeling her spill in him made him desperate to chase his own release.

"Princess, gonna cum- wanna cum in you. Please tell me you've been going to the gynecologist like you're supposed to." He desperately pleaded at her, his thrusts getting more erratic, hair sticking to his forehead.

Y/N nodded furiously, affirming she had been getting her contraceptive injection specifically for this reason.

"Oh fuck! Fuck!"

Yunho grunted harshly as he spilled his cum all over her walls, making sure to fuck all of it in her. He panted softly as he tried to catch his breath, his partner next to him already worn out from that intense love session. Carefully he pulled out of her, smiling in an accomplished manner as he saw her hole be filled up with his sticky white substance.

"Beautiful." He whispered mostly to himself than anything.

Turning her over to lay on her back, he smiled down at her tired and sleepy figure. Leaning down, he began placing tiny kisses all over her face.

"I love you so much my little princess."

Too tired to even mutter out a sentence, she merely let out a tiny grumble which he giggled at.

"How cute. Come here princess. Daddy will take care of you."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, his hands lifted her up, legs wrapped around his waist as he began carrying her towards his bathroom to indulge her in a warm bubble bath to soothe her tired and sore body.

"You're so good to me Yunho..." She mumbled in his ear, her nose nuzzling against his neck, sending him into a flutter of soft panic.

"Well...you are daddy's princess after all."

⊱✿⊰─━━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━─⊱✿⊰

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ff-imagines · 3 years

Note

uhm this is embarrassing thing to request but,,,,,,, how bout u know,,,,,, nsfw alphabet/scenario/hcs with blobster. 👁️👄👁️. I'm sorry.

Boston lobster: nsfw alphabet

Minors dni xoxo

A - aftercare

Admittedly kinda sloppy, it doesn’t occur to him that he should probably check up on you till he’s like “oh shit humans need water” and he suddenly shoots up to grab some and come back to you lmao

If you explicitly ask you get no back talk from him, he just carries you where you need to be and makes sure you’re feeling alright.

Will be endlessly prideful if u say you can’t walk, express your soreness at your sanities risk bc he’ll bring it up for ages

B- body parts

Oh he’s got no shame to tell you he loves your ass and thighs. The type to walk by you and give you a tap on the ass while smirking to himself. Doesn't matter how much or how little you've got he’ll still ask at least once if he can fuck your thighs lmao

Does his height count? He loves how he towers over most humans and food souls alike, chances are he’s probably taller than you, and he really likes that. Sulks a bit if you’re actually taller than him lmao.

They aren’t his favourite part of him but I gotta talk about the antennae. They’re weirdly sensitive, pulling him makes him squeak, which ends with him chasing you or with him chasing you, take your pick. When he catches you he makes it his goal to find a weirdly sensitive part of your body and to tease that spot endlessly. Tickle fight ensues but it’s more like you’re suffering while he’s maniacally laughing above you.

C - cum

It’s thick as fuck and very salty, rip lmao

He likes to cum inside or on your thighs, look they’re very squishy and nice ok he can’t help it </3

He’s also obsessed with not only making you cum, but just… your cum. Amab or afab readers, he will delight in making you watch him swallow. Would also bring his hand up to make you taste yourself, grinning the whole damn way.

D - dirty secret

He’s really affected by scents. If you have a signature perfume or cologne you wear all the time it can make him unbearably horny, since the smell lingers on his sheets and on his clothes long after you’re gone.

E - experience

A fair amount, out of curiosity. Not too many times as he’s spent a lot of years in total isolation. His curiosity is a more recent development, he finds he likes the feeling but something is just missing from his hookups. Then he meets you and is like “ohhhh a relationship is what it was, damn.” Once he realizes that, and even a little bit before when he first starts noticing his internal unease, the hookups stop so he can figure out how to swallow his pride and try and ask a human out lmao

F - favorite position

He loves doggy style because it’s just so so easy to control you that way. He loves to pull you back by your arms, spearing inside you at a punishing pace.

He also would love if you were flexible enough to push into a mating press, getting right next to your ear, whispering about how close he is.

G - goofy

Surprisingly, yea! He’s actually pretty good at making fun of himself, he just doesn’t do it often and doesn’t like it when someone he’s not close to does it. He gives little teases here and there, it eases tension quite a lot.

H- hair

He doesn’t shave for shit lmao. Intense happy trail, intense amount of body hair over all, he actually prefers it that way.

He keeps the same energy with your body hair and will come out and tell you he kinda likes it if you don’t shave. Ultimately he doesn’t think on it too hard, it doesn’t bother him in the end, whatever you want, he wants too!

I- intimacy

He’s not so good at being truly intimate, it’s just not something he’s used to being. If you ever, by some miracle, convince him to let you top him, he’s actually a lot softer and it’s easier to let his feelings speak for him. He also discovers he likes getting dommed a lot but he won’t tell you that lmao

J- jerk off

Not too often, he’s either super busy or he could just find you and solve the problem in an even more satisfying way.

If he ever can’t, expect him to grab one of your shirts to press to his nose as he fists his cock, the feeling of being surrounded by you is enough to help him finish when he desperately needs it.

K- Kinks

Well, the scent thing ofc.

He’s really into risky sex, a true exhibitionist. He’s hot, you’re hot, who wouldn’t want to see you both put on a show? If it gets it into their heads that no matter how bad they want you, you belong to him, your place is right here, getting split apart on his cock, he’ll make sure the message gets across.

Huge breeding kink. Hates the idea of kids but really likes the idea of claiming your insides. He’d love to push you into the mattress and release as deep as he can go.

He’s into humiliation as well, let him tease you while calling you his sweet little whore, he'll make it worth your while.

He’d love if you let him tie you up, he’d probably get into doing fancy designs that accentuates your body in the best way. A pretty rope to tie up and dick down a pretty s/o.

Also I can’t look at his skin where he’s got that suit on and not know he’s got a daddy kink, I just can’t. He doesn’t care for anything other than the title, it’s more about power than anything else. Call him daddy in public and watch how fast you get taken to a more private area. Or, maybe a less than private area, if you’d let him.

He’s got a thing for size difference as well, he loves to loom over you, even if he isn’t actually bigger than you.

L- location

Anywhere, anytime. He’s a prideful bastard, he’ll show off his ability to get you drunk off his cock any way he can. Not only isn’t there a spot in your house he hasn’t fucked you on, there probably isn’t a place on your street either.

M- motivation

What really gets him going is seeing you when you're at your most confident. If you come to him beaming about winning an award, wearing an outfit you feel great in, even if you just say something cocky, it just makes him so proud and eager to share that confidence with you. He doesn’t want to break you down, he wants to prop you up! Tell him about how good you feel, he’ll make you feel even better <3

N- no

As much as he likes to show you off, he doesn’t actually like the thought of a third party joining in. He might be swayed if it’s someone he really trusts. He also doesn't like receiving humiliation, he’s much too prideful lmao

O- oral

Please suck him off, he’ll be kinda rough with you but he’ll be nicer if you ask. He prefers to be mean though lmao. He likes ordering you around on what to do when you’ve got his dick in your mouth, his words get more incoherent the closer he is, though.

He’s just as eager to give you head too, he treats you like a whole 7 course meal. He loves biting around your thighs before ever touching where you're desperate for him to.

P- pace

Oh he’s punishingly hard. Loves to have a fast steady pace then stop as deep as he can and roll his hips a bit to make sure you feel just how deep his dick is inside you.

There are rare days when he’s feeling soft, those days he’s slow and methodical, gripping into your hips to make sure you can’t wiggle to increase your own pleasure, he wants you to savour the high he gives you.

Q- quickies

Well, why not! So what if you’re in an alleyway near a busy street, and anyone can walk by and see you getting pounded? You’re feeling heated aren’t you? Don't kid yourself, just turn around and let him take care of you.

R- risk

He lives for it. If you’d let him he’d bounce you on his cock in a plainly public place, like a subway car.

It’s a big fantasy of his for someone who absolutely pines for you to flirt just a little too hard, you coming to him and letting him fuck your right in front of them. It fuels his pride beyond belief to show you off.

S- stamina

His refractory time is fairly low. Even if he...can? doesn't really mean he wants to. He prefers either one drawn out, long round where you’ve both been edged to the point of desperation, or a few quick rounds throughout the day.

T- toys

At first they kinda hurt his pride but then he’s like “wait I can strap them on a vibrator and just sit back and watch” and then he’s totally on board lmao.

Forcing you to sit on a chair with a vibrator he had the remote to, keeping you on the edge and smirking while you beg and snivel, having no actual plans to give into your pleading.

U- unfair

Oh fuck yea, strap in babes.

He loves loves to edge the fuck out of you, he’d drag it out for hours if you’d let him. Even better if he can tie you down so you can’t squirm away from what he’s giving you.

Overstimulation is just as exciting to him, but he actually loves it more on himself. Sometimes he’ll overstimulate himself on purpose by still continuing to buck into you even after he’s already cum, determined to chase a second high no matter how painful it feels.

V- volume

Loud groans, and he won’t stop talking. Loves to ask you questions when you’re clearly way too blissed out to answer in any sort of coherent way.

He gets a lot louder near his release, he loves to bite into your shoulder to try and muffle himself. If he decides to be bold and let you hear him, he grabs your jaw and brings his face right next to your ear. What a show off.

W- wild card

He kidnaps small items that remind him of you, not just things that smell like you. That one earring you always wear, a glove, a necklace, picks flowers that remind him of you for whatever reason, he might even go out of his way to buy things that remind him of you, keep them to himself for a while, then give it to you when he’s sure it smells enough like him. He gives your stuff back… eventually.

X- X Ray

Oh please… he spits, sweats, and bleeds big dick energy. I refuse to believe his dick isn’t big enough to make you nervous. Would have you sit on his lap and track a finger up your stomach to measure how deep his cock can go.

Y- yearning

He’s pretty likely to mold to your sexual drive. However often you need him, he’s at your beck and call. He likes to keep it closer to 2-3 times a week if he can.

Z- zzz

He doesn’t sleep all that easily at all, but it gets a little easier when he’s got you in his arms. Prefers to be big spoon, and as much as he hates getting overheated, he just can’t will himself to let go of you. It’s ironically one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had.

#food fantasy #food fantasy x reader #ff boston lobster #ff boston lobster x reader

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definitely-not-a-wasp · 3 years

Note

I'm okay with a bunch of disorganized rambling honestly 😂. But if I had to narrow it down then I guess I want to know about main and side characters and how they compare to the original?

I know that tumblr is the Prime Site for disorganized rambling, but I have perfectionism issues. But that is a great question, nonnie, and I will be happy to ramble is a slightly less disorganized fashion.

When reading Maximum Ride as a somewhat-formed adult who discovered they enjoy English classes about 3.5 years ago, I noticed that JP, when writing, doesn't understand consistency. At all. Which means, in many ways, I have a free sandbox to work with.

Spoilers for my rewrite WIP, because I strongly believe that if a story would no longer be good if one had spoilers, then it wasn’t a good story in the first place.

I'm trying to keep the backstories the same, plus or minus the scientific method and a few characters (RIP my OCs. I want to bring you back so bad but it wouldn't fit with the thematic narrative). I've mostly kept their (starting) abilities the same, too. Without further ado, I'm going to introduce some WorldBuilding. (If I'm good at nothing else, I'm good at world building)

First off. Logically.

How are they getting Cable?

How are they getting internet?

How are they getting money to eat and stuff?

JP's answer: handwave it off. Sometimes you need to ignore logistics for the sake of plot. This is an answer I'd accept from an author that I like, such as Julie Kagawa, that makes amazing worlds, characters, and narratives that I will happily handwave a few things that wouldn't work in the real world. James Patterson, on the other hand, did not make any of that; he made a cool concept, some good rough-draft characters, and nothing else, and therefore this is an unforgivable sin.

Wasp's answer: They are not getting any of that.

Introducing Cottagecore.

The house is off the grid. Solar Panels and a wind turbine create electricity. They have their own well. They grow their own food, raise livestock for eggs, milk, and wool, and trap fish for meat. They get money through dumpster diving and pawning. They still have to steal half of the necessities they can’t make themselves. They do have a TV, but it can access about three channels on a clear day. Internet is only a thing when they go to the public library.

Giving the flock a background that’s heavy in farming and livestock rearing shores up the plot holes mentioned above, but in my opinion, ties the flock more tightly to the environment, thus giving them something tangible to lose when they have to leave the E-shaped house. Because they’re not just leaving a house and a safety net— they’re leaving their entire way of life with no promise of getting it back. It also gives them a tangible connection to the earth in case I want to actually pursue the global warming themes.

Main Characters

Maximum “Max” Ride (Birthname: nonexistent)

First off, I'm letting her be Latina, James Patterson.

In the original, Max was very much the headstrong, independent, action girl. Leaning into Strong Female Character (TM), but overall she had a strong, solid foundation and enough character consistency through the first three books for me to not have to just make an entire new character. However, I felt that she was, in some ways, a bit too Action-Girl and Strong and Capable. Yes, Max is incredible and competent, but she’s also fourteen. She’s a child.

In the rewrite, Max’s character is still headstrong, independent, capable, and sometimes not the best at listening to others. All of that’s the same. But she’s that way not because of girlboss energy, but because there’s no one else to do it. She doesn’t want to lead, necessarily. She wants to get some rest and let someone else handle the problems life keeps throwing at her. But she knows if she did that, the responsibility of leader would fall to Fang and Iggy, and she can’t ask that of them. She doesn’t want to place that burden on anyone else (Look, there’s a reason I chose Ayano’s Theory of Happiness as one of her signifier songs, okay?). Her narrative is very much centered around burden, and also around loss. She lost her cultural heritage when she was taken away from her birth family, she lost her childhood to being a leader, she lost a good deal of her friends to the school (RIP my OCs), she lost Jeb, and then she lost her stability. And she’s going to lose a lot more before the end of the story. So a lot of her character arc deals with learning that there are some things she can’t fix, some things that can’t be recovered. She can’t get the E-shaped house back. She can’t get her Little Baby Angel back, even after they rescue her. She can’t get her friends back from the school. And instead of working so hard to recover those or find something to replace them, she has to learn to live with that sense of loss and move on with her life without feeling guilty for leaving things behind. And she has to learn that asking for help and sharing her burden is selfish or weak.

Other changes I made that don’t necessarily fit into her narrative arc, but you asked for rambling so rambling you shall get:

Max hallucinates, because mental illness is also a prominent theme in the rewrite. She doesn’t have a psychotic disorder, but her C-PTSD causes visual/audio hallucinations, especially when she’s stressed or sleep deprived.

Max ends up having a Gender Discovery throughout the story and goes by He/She pronouns eventually. I don’t know when, but it will happen.

As far as genetic modifications/special quirks go, she can fly faster than the rest of the flock, but not 300 miles per hour. She averages about sixty mph with diving speeds of 240. She cannot breathe underwater or shut down her organs on command. She also has the Super Special Power to predict the weather, but that’s not because of genetics, it’s because she has chronic pain in her right arm that gets worse when weather fronts change.

Her favored weapon is her trusty rebar that she picked up from a condemned building. I think she’s going to name it eventually but I don’t know what yet.

Fang (Birth name: Gabriel Xue)

In canon, Fang is characterized in early books by being the “dark, strong, silent type”. He’s probably the most reserved member of the flock, to the point of falling into the Brooding Mystery Man trope in parts of the book. They care a lot, but they’re not the best at conveying that, especially with the younger members of the flock, and at times their high empathy leads them to making mistakes. Despite the high empathy, he’s often compared to a robot due to his lack of expression and external emotions.

Well, first change is that they’re not a man, so jot that down—

If Max’s narrative is centered around burden and loss, I would probably say that Fang’s is centered around humanity and moving on. None of the flock was treated as human while in the school, but Fang was more often than not treated like a wild animal due to “behavioral issues”, and therefore had and continues to have a difficult time considering themselves real and alive, let alone human. This manifests through a several different ways— where in canon Fang definitely had a ‘fight’ reaction, in the re-write they have a ‘freeze’ or ‘shut down’ instinct. They’re selectively mute for multiple reasons (including derealization, jaw pain, the fact that they didn’t learn how to speak until they were 10, and genuinely forgetting it’s something they’re capable of), a period of Cotard’s syndrome, and a tendancy towards self-loathing and self-sacrifice. In short, Fang is still halfway stuck in the mindset that most of the flock grew out of when they escaped in the school, and doesn’t know how to move past it.

Much of their character arc revolves around not necessarily seeing themselves as human, but learning to treat themselves as human even when they don’t feel like one (or even feel real), and knowing that just because they don’t feel human all the time doesn’t mean anyone else can treat them the same. They never start easily expressing their emotions, and they’re always going to be selectively mute, but they learn to accept that those aspects of themself aren’t character flaws or signs that they’re sub-human.

Other additions to Fang’s character include:

They don’t get their hair cut in New York. It stays long through the entire series. They have the longest hair in the flock by the end of the series, and they can wear it in so many styles.

Fang uses they/it pronouns because themes of reclaiming the weapons used against it and, more importantly, Gender.

They’re actually really good at spelling compared to the rest of the flock, because they and Iggy communicate with Print-On-Palm when they’re nonverbal, and they’re nonverbal for some pretty long stretches of time.

They and Max have... zero romantic tension. At all. There is none. The number of times Max calls them her sibling/little sibling in the first arc alone is staggering, and that will not change.

Igneous “Iggy” (Birthname: Jamsetta “Jamie” Griffiths)

I’ve talked about Iggy before. Canon doesn’t give us much to go off of, but from what’s shown, he’s smart, sarcastic, has sharper edges than Fang and Max, and also has a sizable ruthless streak. So that’s what I have to go off of.

The big difference between Iggy and Fang&Max is that Iggy has a much better memory of the School. Most of the flock have areas (months or years) that they don’t remember, or people that they’ve blocked from their mind, but Iggy... doesn’t. So he’s the one that remembers all of the other AVIAN test subjects that were old enough to have names and identities but died due to complications. Max might have the burden of leadership, but he has the burden of memory. And that has lead to both a massive fucking guilt complex, because why did he survive when they didn’t, and, as mentioned above, a ruthless streak that he doesn’t shy away from.

Which is to say, by the end of the story, Iggy has the highest kill count.

I love, love writing Iggy next to Max and Fang. I love writing Iggy next to Gazzy and Nudge. Because, I say this with all of the love of the world, but Iggy is not a good person. He is loyalty and love incarnate, and the world can burn down if he and his siblings are safe. Max and Fang will always try to save as many people as they can. They will wonder what’s wrong with them the first time they kill and don’t have a mental breakdown about it. They are good in a way that Iggy is not. He’s okay with killing Erasers. He’s okay with killing humans. He’s okay with killing people who might not necessarily deserve it, if they show themselves as a threat or are simply in the blast radius. He knows perfectly well that most of those Erasers he’s murdering are four and five and he is okay with that, because a lot of the AVIANs were that age when they died. (Yeah, in the rewrite it’s not Fang who has an issue with Ari; it’s Iggy who wants the 7-year-old wolf-boy dead.)

And this is, of course, juxtaposed with Iggy being really, really good with Nudge and Gazzy (especially in the beginning). Because, again, he actually remembers being a child. He remembers a lot of kids that died and is therefore fiercely protective of the kids that didn’t, as well as fiercely protective of the innocence that he never got. So he’s the one that cooks their favorite foods when they’re having a bad day, always makes time when they want to talk about something, and convinces Max to let them go to that toy store in New York because, yeah, he Max and Fang aren’t kids. They never were. But Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel can be. (And if he has to be a murderer to preserve that, then he’s perfectly okay with that.)

He and Angel don’t get along very well, though. The telepath doesn’t like hanging out with the person with the most clear memories of the school.

Other additions:

Iggy is trans and says trans rights

He also has paranoid episodes, because C-PTSD. Sometimes they’re very helpful. Sometimes they are not.

I actually decided that he’s one of the flock that doesn’t meet their parents. I know in canon he did, but I always found that very clunky because it didn’t add to his character. He was one of the characters who, until it was convenient for the plot, seemed to care the least about his family. I’d much rather give that to a character whose arc would benefit from it.

Iggy! Gets! Older Sibling Rights! Seriously, he’s two months younger than Fang, he is just as capable.

Iggy does not know braille because Jeb decided it wasn’t necessary for him to know. Iggy is also the best speller in the flock, because Print-on-Palm was the only way to talk to Fang for a solid year. Yes he mocks everyone over this.

Iggy is the only member of the flock that enjoys swimming and can take into the air from water. Everyone else in the flock is incredibly jealous.

Nudge (Birthname: Monique Robinson)

If Iggy is defined by his memories, Nudge is his polar opposite. She was seven when she left the School, but she has next to no memories of it. She is missing a lot of time in the first year she escaped. And that causes... a lot of things. It makes her feel disconnected from her older siblings, it gives her the ability to function in society in a way the other’s can’t, it lets her feel less grief over the ones that didn’t make it and she doesn’t remember, it makes her feel guilty that she doesn’t remember what she’s old enough to know.

Basically, in order for me to keep the character of Nudge as I saw her (more extroverted, not afraid of the world, fascinated with humans like her siblings aren’t, desiring to fit in instead of isolate), I had to put a little bit of distance between her and the flock. Of course, she loves them— that will in no way change— but she’s old enough that she should remember the school (and her dead friends) unlike Gazzy and Angel, but she can’t, and she very much fears forgetting the flock if anything happens to them. So she’s trying desperately to keep the flock close and wants desperately to experience the world at the same time, and doesn’t know what to do when she can’t have both. That’s her biggest character conflict throughout the series, along with that in-between area where she’s not quite where her older siblings are but understands so much more than Gazzy and Angel, and where she stands in that.

So yeah. Nudge’s journey is that in looking for belonging in the world, in her family, and in herself.

This is why she’s one of the ones that gets to find her parent, James Patterson.

Other additions include:

She never straightens her hair. Never. Her resources at the E-shaped house aren’t perfect, but she still has learned how to take care of her hair and has a few styles she cycles through.

She becomes the default person Max sics on people when the flock is trying to befriend them. Also their de-facto diplomat around strangers.

As in canon, she does take some time away from the flock to expirience ‘normal life’. This does not last long due to the stress of being separated from her siblings/not being able to help them and [REDACTED]

Nudge is... not the only person in her head. I’m not focusing on it much because she doesn’t actually know and neither does the flock (I don’t know if they ever figure it out during the series, either), but she has dissociative identity disorder. She’s not aware of her alter(s?). Her alter isn’t super aware of her, either.

The alter that I’ve developed is named Oxy and is not super aware of the outside world. In her eyes, she’s still seven and they’re still at the School. She would not recognize the body as her own if she looked in a mirror.

Nudge actually leaves the flock for a while to pursue her dream of living a normal life. She deserves it. She learns how to make muffins and the basics of software development. These things are unrelated.

Gasman (Birthname: No first name, surname “Falk”)

Honestly, writing Gazzy is kind of hard for me. Partially because I’m not great at writing kids, and partially because I feel like he’s a pretty surface-level character in-series that... isn’t super compelling in canon. But even if that’s the case, I try to treat all of my characters with respect, so here we go. In my rewrite, he escaped when he was four, which was half a lifetime ago for him, so his memories are ill-defined. Therefore, he managed to circumvent a lot of the trauma that the rest of the kids have, and not in the way Nudge did, which is by creating an elaborate blockage in her memories.

Which means Gazzy... really doesn’t know how to deal with all of this traumatic stuff happening. So much of his development turns out to be a coming-of-age narrative. Learning how to deal with the horrors of what his siblings grew up with. Learning the fears that they had the entire time. Losing his innocence when everyone around him never had it in the first place, and being so terribly alone because of it. Because, really, how can you explain such a deep loss to people who never had what he had? How can they help in a way that matters?

Also, relationship-wise, I’m slowly deteriorating the relationship between him and Iggy. Slowly. Or, changing it, at least. Gazzy hero-worships Iggy in-series, and for good reason, because Iggy is super cool, especially in the eyes of an eight-year-old, and especially when Iggy has taken care to cultivate parts of his behaviors to be child-friendly. Part of growing up is seeing the flaws in your heroes, and Gazzy has to learn how to deal with it. End of the series Gazzy is much less closer to Iggy than beginning of the series Gazzy, and neither of them are really okay with that, but they learn to live with it, because that’s really all they can do.

Notes:

I’m keeping the mimickry! It plays a bit of a bigger role because that’s how Gazzy learned to talk. I’m debating whether or not he has his own voice or if he just borrows the flock’s as he sees fit. He also uses it to scream really loudly and occaisonally burst the eardrums of Erasers.

At one point he cosplays as Jessica Jones. No you don’t get any more context than this.

He has a horrible sense of fashion.

I’m changing his name eventually because it sucks. He’s either going to change it to Gannet, Garrison, or Ivy Mike temporarily, and permanently to Zephyr. (I never said I was going to make his name GOOD, because he’s eight, but it’s changing. You’re welcome.)

Angel (Birthname: No first name, surname “Falk”)

It’s just... a completely different character, at this point. I’ve changed so many things about her in an attempt to make her consistent and act like a six-year-old and work in the whole “telepath before she has a solid sense of identity”, so it’s a different character. Also, I’m tired of writing coherently or in paragraphs, so have some interesting facts.

She has epilepsy! Super severe epilepsy! I think she might also develop juvenile MS in the future because her brain has so many scars from being a fucking six-year-old telepath. There’s no way she could get out of that unscathed.

She has more memories of the school than Gazzy, but only because she keeps accidentally reading the minds of Max, Fang, and Iggy. On a related note, she interacts with Iggy as little as possible.

The mind reading means that she has a hard time developing as a normal child with a normal sense of identity or reality. She can’t tell how much people are individual people and how much they’re just extensions of her. Conversely, she can’t tell how much of herself is actually her instead of the thoughts/opinions/identities of someone else. It’s... kinda fucked? But also super not-her-fault.

She’s albino because white wings. Also, because I thought it was cool. This also means that her vision sucks, though. Also she has the biggest straw sunhat and the most stylish sunglasses a six-year-old can have.

She’s responsible for Max shaving her hair off.

She has the highest swear count because I think it’s funny. She’s the only person allowed to say the fuck word in writing. Everyone else can only say ‘hell’ and the occasionally ‘damn’ but she can say whatever she wants for dramatic and comedic value.

She is NOT THE FUCKING VOICE, J*MES P*TTERSON.

Honorable Mentions

Jeb

I’m skipping Jeb because of how little I care about him. He’s a little bitch, next character.

Ari

STILL HASN’T BEEN REVEALED AS AN ERASER. I’ve been writing for 50,000 words and he’s over here saying ‘nope nope not yet, not dramatic enough’. He’s had speaking lines but has refused to make himself known to Max. I am so frustrated with this seven-year-old wolf-child that I’ve already considered how I would kill him, if I decide I want to kill yet another child in my writing.

So, my main thoughts for Ari is that he... really just drew the short end of the stick in every possible way. While Jeb didn’t sign him up for Eraser expirimentation, he didn’t do anything to stop it, and pretty much cut his losses when he realized this expiriment made a wreck of his ‘perfect, unflawed’ son, because Jeb doesn’t consider children of any species to actually be humans. So, Ari really hates his dad, which makes things complicated, because he also really loves his dad and really wants his approval.

Which means that he also really hates Max, because she’s the child that always got Jeb’s time and attention, even when Ari was human. I think, on some level, he knows that trying to tear Max down to a less-favored level isn’t actually going to help his situation— infighting for the love of an abusive parent won’t make them any less abusive— but he’s also seven, and his development is already severely stunted due to becoming an Eraser, and he doesn’t see ‘leaving ITEX’ as an option like the Flock does. ITEX is his everything. It’s all he’s ever known, and they tell him he’s doing the right thing, and he wants them to love him. He wants his father to love him. He knows that if he ever questions ITEX, his father will never love him. So it must be his older sister that’s ruining his life and being a horrible child, and once Ari drags her back down to his level, Jeb will realize who the best child is and love him properly again.

Ari, on an even deeper level, does care for Max quite a bit, because she’s his older sister and he wants that to mean something in a way that ‘Jeb being his father’ obviously doesn’t. He wants what she made for herself, and he hates the Flock because she loves them and obviously doesn’t love him.

Ari, if anything, is the product of neglect, and both loves and hates everyone who shows a chance of caring about him. And he’s seven, so he can’t notice these patterns, let alone break them.

So. Notes!

He doesn’t look like an adult. I thought that was gross and unnecessary. He’s seven, but he looks closer to thirteen or fourteen. Still young enough that he looks like every Eraser’s little brother, and the Erasers high-key treat him like it.

On a related note, he’s the only Eraser who can talk. The others don’t have the mental capacity or vocal structure to replicate human speech, but they can understand language (at about the level of a two or three year old) and are very good at nonverbal communication. This is why Ari managed to climb the ranks despite only having three years of “service” and also looking like a tween.

He doesn’t have an expiration date because that is SUCH a stupid plot point.

I’m giving him a chainsaw! I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but he deserves to have a chainsaw and GODDAMN I will give it to him.

Emergency and Gene

The OCs that I love and also killed pre-series. They don’t have any scenes, because they’re dead, but their deaths greatly effected Max, Fang, and Iggy, and they are very commonly referenced. Their voices are probably Max’s most common hallucination, to the point where she sometimes pretends they’re ghosts that she can talk to. They’re not ghosts. They’re dead.

Dr. Valencia Martinez

I’m actually keeping her pretty close to canon— loving, supportive, the type of person to take in a gsw victim with minimal questions. The difference is that rather than kindness fueling her actions, it’s incredible guilt. She has three goals surrounding Max: Give her as much support in any way she can, teach her as much about chicane culture as possible, and never let Max know that she’s her birth parent.

(She’s probably going to fail at AT LEAST two of those, but it’s the thought that counts.)

Notes:

She has a pet fox named Robin Hood that she rescued from an exotic animal salesman that got arrested.

I think I’m going to kill her. I don’t know yet, but it’s on the table.

Anne Walker

Y’know, the fake FBI Agent. Who’s not actually a fake in my story because I hated that plot point. She’s genuinely an FBI agent who put the Flock into pseudo-witness-protection in order to build a case against the Institute of Higher Living, accidentally got attached to her prime witnesses, raised them for a few months, realized a [SPOILER] and promptly had to let them get the hell out dodge.

I really like the Anne Walker that lives in my head. She is a VITAL part of the Flock’s development, their mental/emotional recovery, and adding to their safety net to fall back on. She serves them as their first adult role model, and is the first adult to show them what parent/child are supposed to look like from a healthy perspective. Though she has several fuck ups, she becomes someone that the Flock genuinely trusts and loves, which makes it all the more difficult for them to leave when [REDACTED].

Notes:

She and Max do butt heads initially, because Max is paranoid and also afraid of becoming uneeded. This ends up being incredibly important because Max needs to learn how to live and find meaning in life without being the designated Leader/Parent/Big Sister

Anne, at one point, sits the entire flock down to teach them about consent, which was something no one ever talked about with them before. She goes in talking specifically about consent in a romantic/sexual sense (because they’re fourteen and that’s something they need to know), but quickly turns into a full-fledged no, people are NOT allowed to do that to you, what the FUCK.

She’s responsible for giving the flock a laptop. It’s because Angel is online schooled (bc telepathy makes actually learning difficult) and was therefore provided with a computer.

Anne is also allowed to swear, but only when it’s funny.

Michael “Grey” Rivers

Aka Grey from the Sewers Aka GR3Y H47 Aka Mike from the Bronx Aka Gifted Child Syndrome Incarnate Aka Would-be-in-MIT-if-his-parents-weren’t-horrible. He’s my son, your honour.

Basically, his backstory boils down to him being a genius, getting into MIT at 14, his (horrible) parents wanting a perfect child who could “make it out” of the Bronx and represent his family/neighborhood/borough to the world. When he inevitably failed their expectations due to stress, a schizophrenic-spectrum disorder that completely alienated him from the rest of his support network, and refusing to take his psych meds because the side effects were horrible and they made it harder to think (and therefore pass his classes), they kicked him out. He fully intends to go back to MIT when he turns 18 and has control of his finances/scholarships/medication/therapy.

So that’s how the flock meets him.

Mike ends up in a very prominent support role for the flock both in technological persuits (helping them track their parents, helping them get information from ITEX, trying to disable Max’s chip and failing multiple times until it becomes a matter of personal honour—), in helping the older members of the flock figure out how to deal with hallucinations/delusions (because he’s actually been to therapy, unlike them), and in being one of the only people who talks to them and helps them without any ulterior motive. He’s not trying to build a case against ITEX/The Institute of Higher Learning, he’s not double crossing them, he’s not plagued with guilt. He just genuinely wants to help them, and they genuinely want to help him, and that’s their first introduction to a healthy, non-codependent relationship.

My many disorganized notes on Michael Rivers:

He’s from specifically Morris Heights, Bronx, NYC.

He would say that his last name is actually Rivera, but his grandparents changed it to Rivers so it would sound more English, and his family has been in America for so long that he doesn’t know much about any Latino heritage he may or may not have. He identifies as African American, not Afro-Latino. He’s just bitter that his family felt the need to change their surname to have better opportunities in New York.

Nudge aggressively befriends him pretty much the moment she meets him, bullies him into teaching her how to code, and he very quickly adopts her as his pseudo-little-sister.

His delusions in the book seemed to involve government conspiracies, but as that’s the one delusion that is proved correct in the book, I’ve decided it would be best if his delusions and reality intersected a bit less if I don’t want to write him having a manic/paranoid episode in the second scene he has screen time. So his delusions are more based on “none of this is real”, “someone is recording everything I do and setting me up to fail” and “my ill-wishes on people can and will come true if I dwell on them too long.”. Government conspiracies are one of things he is skeptical about because he thinks most conspiracies are either “CIA admitted to this twenty years ago” or “antisemitism”.

He’s taking online free college classes that don’t actually give him any college credit, but they have good information and help him feel like he’s working towards something. He plans to double major in computer sciences and electrical engineering, minor in marine biology. He’s wanted to join NOAA since he was twelve and he is nothing if not stubborn.

There you go. These are my characters, now. I have custody.

#maximum ride on main #Maximum Ride rewrite

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heresathreebee · 3 years

Text

Morning Of and After

SMILF Jesse X Female Reader

Summary: You meet Jesse in a bar and take him home. Masterlist

Word count: 3.3k words

Warning(s): +17 | swearing, drunk sex, porn with(out) plot (?), p in v sex, from behind, morning angst, mutual masterbation

AN: bitch I watched a 30 second clip of a tv show JUST to see an underdressed Alex Brightman. What has my life come to. Ah well, I'm gonna enjoy it while I can. Blame these lovely, inspiring fools @hoodoo12 @go-commander-kim @escape-your-grape

Jesse's not sure why you were hanging off of him at the bar but he's basking in your attention now. You didn't hesitate to give the cabbie your address, arm permanently looped around his shoulders for balance. You had both been drinking– exactly how much was a mystery– and Jesse was eager for a breakthrough in his dry spell.

Your lips are wet and on each other as he kicks your door closed. Pulling your clothes from your body proves a little difficult, especially with you wrestling to take off his. He catches a case of the giggles when you get his head stuck in his shirt but the laughter quickly turns into a moan when he feels you slip a hand into his underwear to fondle his junk. He remembers gripping your wrist like iron and ripping his shirt from his face. He gives you a gentle push backwards, right onto the edge of your bed (he didn't know that was there but he would have been happy to take you on the floor too).

Your top is misaligned but far from off, however you are bare from the waist down and wrap your legs around his hips to pull him towards you. Jesse's just as desperate and he slips his pants down midthigh, then stops to rummage in his pocket for a condom. He has to bat your grabby little hands away or he won't last. It's a little hard to see through the haze of lust and alcohol but he manages, and then he's pressing you into the mattress leaning on an elbow and sliding his fingers through your slick folds.

He groans and plants a kiss on your mouth. "Fuck you're wet..."

The man wastes no time and hooks two fingers inside you, eager to stretch you out and make you come now because you're fucking gorgeous and it's driving him to the edge without any stimulation.

You mewl beneath him, nails scratching his scalp and chest heaving as if begging for his attention. Jesse's mouth waters heavily as he sloppily licks and sucks at your breasts, pushing your top aside and just nipping at the lace bra still intact. He has no idea how high you are until your inner walls contract around his fingers so hard he worries they might break. And with a practiced motion, he eases you down from your orgasm, fingers slowing down until he slips them out.

And just for the hell of it, he flicks your clit and feels you jump beneath him. Suddenly your teeth are digging into his neck and he howls.

"Fuck me already," you growl.

You spread your legs wider to fit his hips to the center and drag him into another rough kiss. Jesse has some trouble maneuvering with his pants half on, but he catches the head on your lip and pushes in groaning at the familiar feeling of being engulfed. Bottoming out inside you sends an electric tingling sensation down his spine and he has to stop for a moment and catch his breath.

He feels your feet sliding up his thighs, one foot still in a heel which catches on his waistband. His hips give a test rock and you moan against his collarbone, legs twitching at his sides.

Jesse sets a subtle pace, rocking into your heat and drooling a little. You feel so fucking good underneath him, so right, like eating apple pie on the Fourth of July. His balls start to tighten and he almost lets go, but the feeling of your pussy twitching draws his attention to your face. You're close to coming again but not anywhere near where he is. The sloppy drunk part of him wants to just keep going and finish but the real Jesse wants this to be good for you too and what's a little second orgasm between drunk strangers?

He pulls out and despite your immediate protests, you quickly become curious when Jesse's hands push and pull on you as if trying to move you.

"What are you doing?"

His chin has a small glisten and his eyes are so watery. There are hickeys forming on his neck and a scratch or two rising on his shoulder. The hairy expanse of his chest is turning red from friction and he looks as unreal as a dream until he says, "turn over."

Your legs twitch and you definitely soak the quilt on your bed. Did you hear him right? This guy? Soft, pretty boy who was just a second ago gently rocking your world?

He licks his lips and says, "turn around. I wanna do it the other way. On your knees."

Fuck. Well you're definitely shaking with excitement as you fulfill his command. You finally manage to slip your top off and fling it into the abyss off the bed. You wiggle your hips into the requested position and shiver as a warm hand slides up your spine. Another warm hand locks around your hip and you feel him enter you with no resistance. The rough material of his jeans scratches at your thighs as he begins to thrust, longer strokes that leave you empty and full, empty and full again. You quickly slide off of your elbows and press your face into the blanket, loving the way he seems to lose himself again inside you.

God, does he even know he's moaning right now? It's so hot, somehow hotter than him driving his cock deep inside you. The slapping sound of his hips against your ass sendings endorphins straight to your head. After Jesse breathes another 'fuck,' you slither a hand underneath your body to circle your clit. The first touch of your fingers to your sticky little button causes you to tighten around Jesse's cock and you hear him choke. He leans over your back and settles a hand on the bed to proper himself up, changing the angle of his thrusts and hitting some spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, so good," Jesse mumbles, sweaty forehead pressing against your shoulder. "Mmmm… gonna come…"

Fuck that's exactly what you needed to hear. Your whole body turns tuat like a bow string and your walls constrict into a vice. Your legs quiver from the strong shocks of your orgasm, forcing a long, broken moan to escape your chest and black to creep into your vision.

Your orgasm is the end of your partner. Jesse's hips stutter to a stop as he fills up the condom, unable to breath for a few seconds as he forgets his name, his location, and his sense of self and all there is left is you. Eventually Jesse's soul slams back into his body and he collapses his full weight on top of you unintentionally crushing you. He feels you laughing and at the urge of an elbow in his ribs, he rolls over and off of you. You're still giggling, boneless and satisfied as you try to catch your breath.

You turn your head towards him to look over his blissful features. His skin glistens in the half light and he's probably seconds from falling asleep. You put a hand out on his chest and shake him awake despite yourself, knowing you need to clean up.

"Up," you command.

Jesse shifts off of the bed sluggishly, disposing of the condom in the bin by your desk and grabbing the waistband of his jeans like he's not sure what to do with them. You reach out mischievously and slap his ass causing him to yelp and look back at you in disbelief.

"Take those off and get back here." You fling the quilt of your bed off and curl under the topsheet with a hand out to him.

Jesse looks confused. He moves slowly, crawling back in naked and incapable of meeting your eyes. You place a guiding hand to help him lay his head on your silk encased pillow. "Stay," you command, and dip into the bathroom to clean up.

Jesse lies awake but not for long, his body thumps with the beat of his heart and it lulls him to sleep. He's snoring softly when you come back and flip the lights off.

Jesse's head is pounding in the morning, but he's had it worse. Like way worse. The bedroom curtains are drawn but the sun is direct and the light reflects off the walls a little too strongly for his liking. You look pretty in nothing but sheets and it's turning him on a little bit.

What the fuck was a girl like you doing with a guy like him anyways, he wondered, over his skinnier and better looking friends? And then he wondered, how much did you have to drink last night? It unnerves him that he doesn't know the answer. You left the bar together but you didn't walk in together, who knows how many jager bombs or tequila shots you had before you met him?

Jesse's really hyped himself up now, his hands are getting clammy and he's about to start fidgeting if he doesn't figure something out soon. When you wake up will you remember him? Did you know his name like he knew yours? Would you throw him out in disgust? Maybe you were the type who took them home because you knew they'd be gone at first light. Maybe you liked it that way.

Jesse takes a deep breath to steel himself. He's intent on thinking things through until… until he realizes it took 10 minutes. From the time you entered the apartment to the time he came, it took 10 minutes. Oh god… that is the nail in the coffin for him.

He slides out of bed as quietly as possible. His face is hot and his hands are cold as he slips into his underwear, then his pants. He lets his feet carry him out of the bedroom and into the hallway where he finds his shirt, and he gets distracted looking at your soaked lace underwear as he reaches for the keys by the door.

You actually live really close to his work, which is where he left his car last night. If he can just get some distance maybe he can think better. He could probably use a tylenol more than anything right now.

Jesse's waiting for a light to change at a crosswalk when he realizes these are not his keys. All regrets about leaving his phone number on a paper somewhere at your place go out the window when he realizes he doesn't have his phone either.

"Fuck," he mutters in defeat.

Returning back to your apartment is the real walk of shame. He hopes someone will stop him, ask him if he lives around here or something so he can chicken out and maybe get a friend to get his stuff back. The cute like trinkets hanging off your car keys do give him some interesting insight into the things you like.

He can't remember if he left the door unlocked and celebrates when he doesn't have to knock and wake you up. He probably should have clued in when he heard the sound of a sink turning off, but he's actually more hungover than he thought. He fully freezes like a deer in headlights when you appear with a towel on your head and fresh lounging clothes.

The look you give him should have turned him to stone. "Hey Jesse. Forget something?"

He opens his mouth and nothing but a weak "heeeeyyy," escapes. His mouth flaps like a fish and he suddenly remembers to put your keys back from where he found them. Busted. "I ee I was just going out to grab some coffee… and like a tylenol… but guess I grabbed the wrong keys, hahah..."

The twist of your mouth is a little cruel. You let the towel rest on your shoulders and toss him his keys from the kitchen counter, warm hand lingering over his heart in an affectionate but threatening way. "Coffee sounds good. There's a shop a mile that way, honest to god espresso and cheaper prices than the usual dig. I'm sure I've got a bottle of tylenol somewhere around here, I should find it by the time you come back."

Oh...K? Are you… planning something? Should he fear for his safety? Apologize? Not knowing what else to do (and distracted by the feeling of you caressing his chest), Jesse simply nods and turns to obey you. Only at the door does he turn back and gesture with his key hand, "you uh, haven't seen my phone, have you?"

You're smiling. You've got no bra on beneath your baseball tee, hair soaking your shoulders, and tiny tiny shorts with pockets– a pocket carrying what he clearly recognizes as his phone– and you're smiling.

"I like my coffee strong. Just tell them my name, they'll know what to make." Jesse doesn't know what else to do except sputter and leave.

It would have been a short walk but it's an even shorter drive. Jesse stands in line assessing the menu with his hands in his pockets. You were mad at him.

Ok, that was fair.

You were upset that he left you without a goodbye and had stupidly forgotten his things and had to come crawling back. So you weren't that kind of person. He knows that now. But you also weren't screaming at him or begging him to stick around.

Jesse didn't know what to think of your reaction. But you knew his name. He told you his name in the cab and if you remembered it's because you weren't blackout drunk. That's good for both of you. You didn't seem too hungover either, maybe you'd had less to drink than he did or at least the same. This is good, these were good things.

It didn't make going back to your place less terrifying though.

You left the front door cracked and Jesse pushed his way in with a cup in each hand. "Boy, they sure do like you down at that coffee shop! Extra this and extra that. I'd kill to have a place like me like that."

You seem… calmer now. The tension in your movement is gone and you peck his lips with a kiss as you take your coffee. You reach around him to shut the door and walk to the couch expecting him to follow (and of course like a dog on a leash, he did). You passed him a tylenol and took a few yourself, washing them down with your drink before leaning back with your arm over your eyes.

"I'm sorry," Jesse blurts out. You peak at him from under your arm. "I… I didn't know if you wanted to see me when you woke up so I…"

You snort. "Jesse, honey. If I didn't like you, you would have never made it to my room. Not even close. And if I didn't want to see you in the morning–"

You sat up and pressed yourself almost into his lap– "I would have fucked you at the club."

Now is not the time for a boner, this was a serious conversation. In any case, you eased up on your dominating stance and fell into his side like you belonged there. It felt nice. You smelled like fresh laundry and peaches (definitely your body wash or something), and weren't mad at him anymore. In fact you passed his phone to him and settled back. Jesse wrapped an arm around you and rested his cheek on your head. He had almost drifted back to sleep when his text tone dinged.

MASON: Where the fuck are you?

Jesse sighed. You knew exactly what that sound meant and became determined not to let him go without a fight, but Jesse stopped you from climbing into his lap very firmly, by flipping you onto your back and holding you down. He can't help but blush, his ears turning red as he glares at you.

"I have. To go," he scolds. "My buddy Mason's got this project he needs help with and I promised I'd be there to help him move his stuff."

You whine, grabbing his wrists and sliding his hands up to cover your breasts. "Can't it wait a little longer? We can be fast."

Jesse's brain short circuits and his hands inadvertently flex. "What?"

He knows your nipples are hard because he can feel them, and you're looking at him in that way that makes his pants tighter. You don't have to say it but when you do, he falls hook line and sinker. "Come on, babe. Round 2? Before you go?"

How could he say no to that?

Jesse kisses you roughly. His hands squeeze your tits before he plants one to hold himself up and the other to draw you closer so he can grind his hips into yours. You gasp, pulling at his hair and then fumbling with his pants for a second just as you change your mind. Jesse protests as you push him backwards, then he stares as you slide those tiny shorts off. He goes right to circling your clit with his thumb and takes a long look at the dark spot on your new panties.

"So easy to get you wet," he praises, swiping his thumb down over the wet patch before returning to his pronounced circular motions.

You let him toy with you, feet resting on his shoulders until you remember your little game. you gently kick his hand away and replace it with your own, sliding the fabric aside and making him watch two of your fingers glide deep inside you. Jesse groans, intent to help out but you stop him.

"Just me," you gasp. "Just you."

Jesse seems momentarily confused. Then you see it click in his head and he scrambles to take his cock out, already fully erect and dark in color. He starts to stroke himself, eyes bouncing around your form and drinking in the sight of your self administered pleasure. His eyes roll back at the squelching sound filling the space between you, continuing to stroke himself with a dry rasp.

Jesse calls your name and grasps your wrist. His tongue swirls around your fingers hungrily to suck the slick from them, groaning as he does. It's a moment's distraction as his own fings dip into your wet heat and come out coated in more. He replaces his soaked hand on his cock and strokes with renewed vigor.

"God," he hums. It feels so good, watching you watch him is turning him on way more than he thought it would. He's getting close to coming at the thought of painting your stomach when his phone starts ringing.

He grows an annoyed glance at the offending device, then does a double take and pounces. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck– hey boss!"

You looked at him, completely stunned. Jesse pretended not to notice you and listened intently to the voice on his phone, nodding his head absently and to your horror, tucking his cock back into his pants. He doesn't look too happy about it, but he swallows his pride and tells his boss he'll 'be right there.'

He's already apologizing as he pulls you up from the couch and sets your clothes right. Jesse peppers your sour face in light kisses, rubbing your arms as if to soothe you from a blinding rage.

"I promise I'll make it up to you," he says donning his jacket. "I don't know when or how but I will I–"

"Arcade. Thursday. 7 pm." You zip up his jacket and glare at him so he knows there's no room for argument.

He smiles, "I can't wait," he drops a hearty kiss to your lips. "Thursday, 7 pm. Want me to pick you up?"

"Only if you plan on staying the night."

"That's a yes then." Jesse leaves and you cannot wait for Thursday.

#SMILF Jesse #SMILF Jesse x female reader #smilf jesse smut #three bees writing #🐝🐝🐝✒

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seonghwa-is-babie · 4 years

Text

Soft kitten

Hybrid! Seonghwa x male reader

Warning: mentioned abuse, crying, angst

Note: I think this the fastest I've ever redone a fic😳😳

Hope u enjoy!

"get up, pet" the guard said as seonghwa's cage opened, stepping out with his ears and tail hanging low. not really sure where he had to go, only knowing to obey orders, or he'll get even more beatings than just the daily torture of malnutrition.

Seonghwa lost hope ever since they kidnapped him from his home in the jungles and brought him to this prison like building, he had tried escaping many times, but every one of those failed. and the punishment for them was even worse than a failed attempt at freedom

They stopped in front of a curtain, pushing the boy through it. He fell to the ground, only when he looked up did he realise what his situation was. It was an auction, selling hybrids for a lot of money

"now up next as you can see, this beautiful white tiger hybrid, only 22 years old" prices were being shouted through the room, building up price little by little, until "$100,000,000" a voice said, this shocked everyone, including seonghwa. who'd give out that much just for a hybrid? "sold! You may come and get your hybrid after the auction"

After the auction, they put him back in his cage. He secretly hoped his new 'home' will be better than this one, though, he doubts it'll be anything different from his current life. Footsteps started coming to his cage and stopped in front of him

"get up" said the man who sold him. Seonghwa had trouble with it due to his wounds from the previous beatings "I'm terribly sorry for his lazy attitude sir" he said as the boy got up to face his new owner "it's fine" said the man who bought him. he was handsome, but seonghwa wasn't one to be fooled easily by appearances. he wore a fancy velvet suit and had (h/c) hair that was styled neatly

The older man did the leash on seonghwa's collar and handed it to the other "it's all yours now" the man nodded and left the building, seonghwa's ears still hanging low. He was glad to be out of there, but what will happen after this?

They got to a car that was parked relatively close, the other opened the door for him. Seonghwa didn't ask anything and stepped inside, the other went to the drivers seat and started driving "so what's your name?" he looked up shyly and said "s-s-seonghwa, sir." "that's a pretty name, and you can drop the sir or any formalities, just call me y/n." seonghwa blushed "thank you si- y/n, sorry" y/n shook it off.

🐯

The rest of the ride was quiet, seonghwa being too afraid and shy to start any conversation. "you don't talk much, do you?" y/n asked, seonghwa tensed up afraid he did something wrong

"it's alright, I get it. Your previous home must've been rough and laid down a lot of rules" y/n looked at seonghwa through the mirror of the car "I'm sorry you had to go through that, but don't worry, you won't have to go through that ever again, I'll make sure of it"

was his luck finally turning around? he didn't wanna get his hopes up too high too soon though, after all the man could just be lying to him "actually, I already have 7 hybrids I take care of already, they're like family to me." this made the smaller relieved, yet still nervous and frankly, a bit scared, what if the other hybrids don't like him or beat him like some of the others did back at his now old home.

They arrived at a big mansion, to seonghwa, it was a bit terrifying. When they got out of the car, y/n gestured seonghwa to come closer, the other obeyed but got extremely nervous when he felt hands around his neck, he flinched, pulling away "oh, I'm sorry, I was just gonna take your collar off since it looks a bit uncomfortable" seonghwa calmed down a bit, enough to let y/n finish taking his collar off. The older then gestured to take his hand, which the other took

Y/n opened the door, hoping the boys didn't mess up the house too bad, only to be met with no damage whatsoever "huh, that's new. Nothing's broken or damaged" seonghwa looked at him confused, but decided against asking, since he was still a bit on edge

He heard multiple pairs of feet come their way and hid behind y/n "hyung! You're home!" multiple voices said, they must be his other hybrids. All of them ran up to him to give him a hug, and that's when they noticed Seonghwa "hyung, who's that?" San, a cat hybrid who was currently in the older's arms, pointed behind y/n, eager to know the strangers name

"right, boys could you all please calm down a bit, I have some important news" that made the boys perk up "I've decided to bring another friend home, this is seonghwa, I hope you'll be kind to him like you are to each other. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to show seonghwa his room, you can ask him questions after that"

🐯

It's been about a month since seonghwa was introduced to the house, and he felt like he was in heaven, many friends, a loving owner that helped him get over past traumas, who he might be starting to like a little more than just his owner, and the freedom to finally chose for himself.

but not everything was all sunshine and rainbows. After a few weeks he started to question why he was even brought into this house, why y/n wanted him so badly that he spent $100,000,000 on him alone. how could seonghwa ever even try to pay him back, at this point he just feels like a burden to the man

🐯

One evening after dinner, seonghwa headed to his room early , claiming he was tired. When he got to his room, he started thinking 'why would he take me in, it seems like he has enough hybrids already, so why bring home another mouth to feed. He should have just left me there, where I won't be a burden to him' thinking more and more of these thoughts, he started to silently cry into his sheets

🐯

"boys, I'm gonna check up on seonghwa ok, I'll be back in a minute" the youngsters gave him quick 'ok' and went back to the show that was playing. As y/n was walking towards his room, he couldn't help but feel worried about the tiger hybrid, something seemed a bit odd when he went to his room so early.

He opened the door to seonghwa's room, only to find the latter seemingly sound asleep. y/n smiled at him and went to close the door, until he heard a quiet sniff coming from seonghwa's direction "seonghwa?" he didn't answer "seonghwa?" again, he didn't answer, but the older went in because he knew that he wasn't just hearing things.

He crouched down on the younger's bedside, but he had already covered his face with his blanket "seonghwa, could you please lower the sheets, I want to see your face for a second" y/n spoke in a gentle tone. The younger shook his head "please seonghwa, I want to make sure you're alright, and I can't do that without looking at your face

Seonghwa hesitated, but slowly lowered the sheets, revealing his red eyes and tear stained cheeks, the older immediately became worried, but tried to keep his calm "kitten, what's wrong? Did someone hurt you? Is it-"

"why did you get me?" y/n was shocked at that "you already have so many, so why bring in another mouth to feed. You could have easily left me to get bought by someone else. So why?! Why did you buy a stupid tiger that's nothing more than a burden to you?!?!"

he couldn't believe what he was hearing, to him, seonghwa, though having only been here for a short time, has become one of the most important people in his life. He couldn't let seonghwa think about himself like that

"seonghwa, i got you because from the first time I saw you, I knew you needed someone, someone that loves you and respects you, and I thought, I could be that person. It doesn't matter to me how many hybrids there are in my house, I will take care of all of you no matter what. And trust me, you're not a burden, you already help so much around the house, and the others already love you to death, I love you to death. Please, don't think that about yourself, I know you've been through a lot of stuff, but right here, right now, I'll promise to keep you save until I draw my last breath, you're save with us, with me"

Seonghwa cried, but these tears were those of happiness. He engulfed y/n in a hug, wrapping his arms around the olders neck while putting his head in his his chest "th-th-an-k you, thank you so much!" y/n stroked the younger's back, carefully lifting himself on the bed "it's alright dear, you're safe with me, no one's gonna hurt you"

🐯

After a while of comforting y/n realised he hasn't told the boys to go to bed yet "sweetheart, I have to go see the boys for a little and make sure they go to bed, is that alright with you?" seonghwa didn't let him go "can't you stay here?" he chuckled at the younger clinging onto him as if his life depended on it

"I'll only be gone for a few minutes, then I'll come straight back to you" the younger continued his whining "nooooo, I wanna stay with you" y/n lifted him up so he was wrapped around his chest, clinging on him like a koala "then you're coming with me"

"boys, it's time for bed" y/n said as he came downstairs, the others looked at him with a questioning look "what?" he asked, the others gave knowing looks to each other "hyung?" San asked "yeah, what is it?" the next words, y/n definitely didn't expect to hear "do you like seonghwa hyung?"

🐯

The question had stuck with him since the others went to bed 'maybe I do like him, he brings a smile to my face just by existing, he's a true sweetheart, not to mention he's the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on' " umm, y/n?" the older turned his head to seonghwa "I ummm, might have heard what you and San talked about" y/n sighed, sitting up from the bed, already knowing where this was going "I understand it if you felt uncomfortable about that, but he wasn't wrong actually, I've found myself quite fond of you actually, but I completely understand if these feelings aren't the same for you."

the two stood there in complete silence "I guess I should go I probably made this extrem-" "no wait!" y/n looked back at seonghwa who's face was completely red "umm, I umm, I also like you, the feelings' mutual" he almost stuttered out completely. The older smiled softly at him, crawling back into bed with him, petting his ears "You're so soft, kitten."

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x male reader #kpop #kpop x male reader #seonghwa x male reader #hybrid #park seonghwa #seonghwa

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sukumen · 3 years

Note

YEEEEES i'm glad u like it 👀like can u imagine how elated he is to have her FINALLY look at him after yearning for a thousand years and having to pick up the pieces of her twisted relationship with sukuna during their first life? because she was probably hurting all the time struggling between loving sukuna and being obligated to fight him. imagine they were best friends so she cries into his arms and bares her soul but he couldn't!! do anything!! except comfort her bc her heart wasn't his!! 🥴

ok back AGAIN bc i deadass have been thinking abt a reincarnated sorceress / gojo / sukuna for DAYS so when i saw u drop those drabbles i was like oh my god someone to talk to jakdslfjs 🤪but i always thought about how sukuna probs used to be a rlly powerful sorcerer who turned into a curse?? like maybe a group of humans hurt the reader and he just got so pissed he cursified himself which is y the reader's gotta exorcise her husband now 😔at one point i was like "lmao what if she's pregnant too"

like sami imagine hotshot sorcerer!sukuna and michizane (it's what i've taken to calling pre-reincarnation gojo 👀) competing over our sweetheart priestess in their og lives and how that translates to pettiness in their current lives lmaooo. plus the outfits from that time (~heian era) are so pretty, the three of them paint such a lovely picture!! anyways more angst: sukuna and the priestess never being able to fight 100% against each other bc "fuck that's my wife/husband" SORRY for the spam 💋

omg don’t worry at all about the spam, i’m living! i have so many thoughts about this highkey, so i’m just going to ramble haha. read more for slight spoilers!

ok i’ve always been so curious about sukuna’s origin story; all we know at this point obvi is that he was a human sorcerer originally, so i’m right there with you re: some major turning point between that and him being a curse. and i think it would provide some valid background for why reader, as a priestess at that time, would even be around him enough to fall in love. like god can you imagine them having the type of dynamic that gojou, getou, and ieiri had in school? a trio growing up and realizing their powers for good side by side until one strays?

michizane and sukuna don’t necessarily like each other, but there’s a clear respect for each other’s power and skill. the real glue keeping them together, though, is the reader who’s been in both of their lives as long as they can remember and is the only other sorcerer around that rivals their skill.

they’ve both loved you for as long as they can remember too, but there’s always been something about sukuna in particular. he’s rougher around the edges, and is more inclined to make you mad than michizane is (you have that regal upbringing to thank for that), but for every argument, there’s a tender touch. For every eye roll, there’s a longing glance.

you’re so caught up in his that you never notice the ones from michizane too.

your relationship isn’t really a surprise. nor is the engagement or pregnancy announcement that follows. it causes a lot of stir all the same though - two of the most powerful sorcerers coming together is bound to send ripples in friendly and enemy circles alike.

unfortunately for you, the returning tide is too fast for you to see coming.

can you imagine if it wasn’t even curses that attacked you? but cursed users of a different sorcerer faction trying to break your union because the two of you together would ruin any plans they had for taking over the jujutsu world?

you manage to survive the attack, but your unborn child does not and the loss sends you both in a spiral. with everything you know about how curses are created, you do a good job of accepting the loss without denying yourself a period of mourning. sukuna, on the other hand, just...spirals. He can’t see you sad, hurt without feeling rage --- add to that the loss of a baby and you get hatred, fury, bloodlust.

he becomes so obsessed with revenge and retribution that he slips further and further away until he’s gone altogether.

he swears he’s doing everything he is for you though - this crusade against jujutsu sorcerers. he tells himself it’s the only way you can be happy together, the only way he can know for sure that no one else will hurt you: to kill them all.

and even when you plead with him otherwise, he has his mind set. he will not stand down.

shift gears and that’s where you get you and michizane growing closer in this rough time - you crying to him about how to draw sukuna back from the edge (though, really, he’s already long past it). He doesn’t say it out of care and love for you, but he can’t understand why you’re even trying anymore. it’s like an unspoken agreement that sukuna has to be stopped before he ruins the world as you all know it.

but you just don’t agree. you know the man you love and you know his motivations - you think he can still be helped.

which just makes it so upsetting that in the end, the war Sukuna starts is what kills you --- and that he has to be the one to take that light out of your eyes. :(

#asks.#💋 anon.#gojou x reader #sukuna x reader

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punkrock-writer · 3 years

Text

Space Cowboy- part 5

Never Fight a Man With a Perm

Pairing- Din Djarin x F!OC

Warnings- Swearing, Mentions Blood, Canon Typical Violence. The Gang from Chapter 6 are dicks.

A/N- Howdy!! I’m so sorry this took so long to come out. I had a bad case of brain rot this past week and did not want to type, but it’s here and I hope ya’ll like it! I’m kind of nervous about this chapter because this was the situation that inspired the entire story, so please let me know what you think!

I’m going to try to have the next chapter out quicker! Put who knows, I got worms in my brain!

Masterlist AO3

After almost taking another roll around the ship — thanks to Din's lack of a warning — Sedona was now aware of what hyperspace felt like. It was actually rather calm, quiet, and still. She wished she could see it, but she didn't really know if she should attempt to enter the cockpit. Instead, turning to face her bags, she figured it was a good time to get some real clothes on. The child cooed sadly when she set him down in the sleeping compartment, and though she hated to, she ignored him and knelt by her suitcase. Searching for something somewhat warm through the clothes that were packed for Florida was proving difficult. She settled on black leggings, an old grey Ron Jon Surf Shop hoodie, and a pair of soft crew socks. A sports bra and a fresh pair of underwear completed the 'look' and she gathered her things and headed to the shower room.

Not before quickly turning back and grabbing her deodorant, because, yuck.

With a deep breath, she decided it was finally time to look at herself.

Nothing was exciting or truly different to note about the person reflected back to her in the foggy mirror. It was the same girl, blue eyes, short brown hair, but now there was a brand new massive bruise on her left temple. Her dark circles were deeper, and her eyes were tired. But other than the wound there was nothing new. She discarded her pajamas, and slipped into the clean clothes, she never thought it would feel this good to be fully covered. Her arms all the way to her toes now concealed in comfortable fabric, and she was grateful. She quickly put her hair into a folded bun, and set to her second task, putting that extra bacta patch on her head.

Peli made it look much easier. Whatever it was, was slimy and hard to get a grip on, but once it was placed, it stuck. So now she had a slightly lopsided, oversized band-aid on her head. And she knew it was going to hurt like a bitch to yank out of her hair. Taking one last look in the mirror, she sighed.

Honestly, she looked like she was about to go take a plane trip back home, and it tugged her heart a little bit.

Shaking her head she picked her things back up and opened the door to exit into the hull. A shiny helmet of beskar startled her, he must've just jumped down from the cockpit, as he was facing her through the ladder. She tried not to think too much about the way he stared for a bit too long, most likely just assessing her change in appearance. Before she could say anything he turned sharply, stepping over to where the child pouted in the sleeping compartment. She scooted by them, heading to put her things back in her bag. And when she straightened up to see what he was doing, he was already halfway up the ladder, taking the child with him.

Sedona tried not to dwell on it too much, it's not like he knew her, he barely even trusted her. He didn't owe her any more kindness than he was already giving her. But it really didn't help when she felt like she knew him. She needed to get that idea out of her head, she didn't know jack shit about what went through his head. Seeing someone on screen is so much different than actually being around them, and Sedona had to make sure she didn't get too comfortable too fast— she couldn't afford any slip-ups. So for now she would take it slow, tiptoe around the Crest, and do what she needed to do when called.

In pursuit of being quiet, she decided now might be a good time to check her phone. She settled herself in the sleeping compartment, purse in her lap, and plucked it from the bag. The time read 10:34 am, and obviously, there was no way of telling if that was right. Her calendar read two days since she had been ripped from her hotel room, and she was pretty sure that would be reliable. As long as she had some way of knowing how long she'd been here, she could keep herself grounded.

It didn't even cross her mind that she should try to find some way to get back home.

Sedona dozed off after a while, curled around her purse in the sleeping compartment. Her circadian rhythm was thrown off, or maybe it was like some kind of space-sickness. She was just tired, and she didn't know what else to do. The plot was getting scrambled in her head, and until Din jogged her mind in some way, she wasn't going to risk getting a headache thinking about it.

So she slept, the soft hum of hyperspace lulling her into relaxation, no matter how uncomfortable the bed was.

~o~o~o~

That was how Din found her a few hours later. Curled like a lothcat around one of her smaller bags. The child gurgled in happiness at the sight of her— he was the reason they were down there, wailing incessantly at the ladder. He didn't understand why he liked her so much, but if he trusted anyone, it was the child. So he set him down next to her knees, a position they had just recently been in. The child began climbing up her legs, and Din could only look on in amusement as she grumbled something incoherent.

The toddler reached his intended destination, her shoulder, and began to tap his tiny hands on her cheek. Din couldn't stop a small smile from breaking his features, thankful for the helmet once again. Her eyes popped open, panic clear on her features as she turned to look at what was tapping her face, and a smile overtook her.

"Hey little guy, how'd you get up there." Din pretended not to notice the roughness of her voice or the sleepy smile that turned to face him. "Oh I see now, you had an accomplice."

She slowly sat up, taking care to hold the child steady. She folded her legs in front of her, setting him in her lap. The child smiled up at him, and before he could stop himself, a gloved hand reached out and stroked his ear. Din wasn't used to showing affection in front of others, especially people he didn't fully trust. But the atmosphere was so relaxed, and it seems his body reacted before his mind could stop it.

"Did we stop somewhere?" Her quiet voice broke him out of his trance, his head snapped back up to meet hers. She looked worried, her eyes searched the helmet, and her teeth caught her bottom lip. Din told himself he was just observing a possible threat, analyzing her tells.

Subconsciously, that was a different story.

"No," he paused to clear his throat when it came out in a whisper. "I've picked up a job, I'm changing our course, and we'll be there in an hour... I just—" well Din didn't really know why exactly he felt the need to warn her. "I just wanted to know if you had... anything to tell me." Right, just trying to get information. Her eyes seemed to light up in recognition, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Who- or what is the job exactly." She looked confused still, her eyes zoned in on something in the distance, deep in thought.

"It's with an old... acquaintance of mine." His voice was rougher than he intended, still not really enjoying the idea of the job. But by the way her eyes darkened, he knew it was probably going to be a big mistake.

~o~o~o~

Sedona's mind instantly hooked onto the information and dragged it from the depths of the scramble. This situation, she knew well. This episode, she had watched, many times. For the plot... not for the way the red lights danced off beskar or the amazingly hot fight scenes.

No for the plot.

She knew what she needed to do.

"They betray you, they're going to try and shove you in a cell and leave you there... and a droid tries to shoot the baby— and they're all massive dicks, every one of them." Okay. That sounded crazy, she didn't mean for everything to tumble out like that. According to the way Din suddenly stood straight and alert, she probably didn't say the right things. "Wait... but you get out of it, no one gets hurt— except for the assholes— but they deserved it a-and you get money."

He just stood there, still as a rock. She couldn't imagine how all of that sounded to him. He probably didn't even know what the mission was supposed to be, and she had already informed him it was doomed from the start.

Yeah, I gotta work on the info delivery.

He let out a long sigh. His fingers twitched at his side, he probably would've rubbed his forehead in frustration if he could. She could feel herself shrinking in the silence, she unconsciously held onto the baby in her lap a little tighter. He cooed at her, seemingly sensing her anxiety. His little 3 clawed hands tapped at hers that held his waist.

"Well... like I said, an hour." He then turned and quickly made his way to the ladder. Climbing into the cockpit in almost record time. Sedona let a long sigh escape her, bringing one hand up to rub her eyes. She wasn't tired anymore, anxiety had squandered that quickly.

She had to either, A. Figure out some way to keep Din from being tricked and captured. Or B. Make sure Grogu doesn't alert the droid of his presence. For some reason, the situation felt wrong. She knew this mission was on course to go sour, but there was a bad feeling whispering at the edges of her mind.

Everything was feeling super, extra, bad and it was making her stomach hurt.

Or maybe she was just fucking starving.

Sedona realized she had never eaten the 'bar' Peli had given her. And an all-liquid diet the day before probably wasn't helping her whole, situation. Moving the child from her lap, she placed her feet on the ground. Thankful for her socks as the cold of the metal seeped through the fabric. She walked over to her suitcase— not really remembering where she had put the food— the entire evening leading up to her fight with Toro was a blur. When she didn't find it in her purse, she searched through her suitcase. Her hands touched the foil wrapping, and suddenly there was another presence at her side.

The little green gremlin was a bloodhound for food, it was like he read her mind and teleported to her. Letting out an excited squeal when she brought the bar into view, Sedona couldn't help but laugh with him. Sitting cross-legged in front of her suitcase she invited him to sit with her. And with more adorable grunts and snorts he sat down in between her legs, eyes never leaving the bar.

"Okay we can share, but don't tell your dad" she whispered, he made a soft coo in response. The bar looked like someone had put a granola bar through a grinder, and then reformed it back into a bar. Not exactly the most appetizing thing, but food was food, and the little guy seemed excited. She broke off a small piece— yes she had witnessed the child swallow a frog whole— but he was so little in front of her, so she went by baby rules and gave him something small. He grabbed it in his little hands, and then she broke off a piece for herself.

It was dry, and tasted kind of like a protein bar, but not at all like a protein bar. It was just different, but with the way the child inhaled it, she knew it was probably worth eating. They carried on like this till it was gone, Grogu munching happily, not minding the crumbs that fell into his lap. She was able to choke it down with the assistance of the water bottle that still sat in her purse. But eating didn't seem to help the way her stomach twisted in worry. When she wasn't distracting herself by watching the child, her mind wandered dangerously.

She couldn't tell if the walls her mind had put up the moment she dropped on the Crest were finally crumbling. Or if something was actually wrong. Her head was starting to hurt again, and now with a stomach ache, she felt like she was starting to break down. She needed another distraction.

Crumbling up the wrapper she turned to her suitcase. The child babbled a little, probably wondering if she had more food. Instead, she was just looking for anything; she moved through everything in the bag, toiletries, bras, a journal. And then she felt something solid. Her boots! She had honestly figured she didn't have any shoes here. Those had been the first thing to come out of her suitcase when she got to her hotel. But now, pulling her work boots from the depths, it was the first time she had actually been excited to see them. They were beat up hiking boots, with the perfect amount of ankle support and non-slip bottom to make it in space.

"Well, are you gonna let me put these on or what?" She said to the child in her lap, he tilted his head with a coo. She slowly started to straighten her legs, he made a squeal and then started to wiggle away from her. She laughed, helping him get off her lap and setting him to the side. He grunted, loudly, instantly very mad at her. She chuckled again, trying not to notice the way her hands shook as she began to lace up her boots.

Grogu toddled over to the ladder, reaching his arms up toward the cockpit. She couldn't help the smile, she finished tying her boots, standing, and headed over to the child. He was hanging from the 3rd rung of the ladder, obviously getting his speed from his father, she was able to catch him just as his 3 fingers slid off the metal. She rose and looked up with anticipation, obviously he wanted to go up there, and that meant she would have to... talk to Din.

She swallowed, but the baby in her arms let out an impatient squeal, reaching his arms up. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Um... D-Mando" she called, catching herself on the name quickly. "G-The kid wants to come up, i-is it alright if I bring him up." She hated the way she was stumbling through this, it shouldn't be that difficult to ask, but she almost shaking in fear at the prospect of being dropped off on the next planet. Her subconscious was telling her the Din she knew wouldn't do that, but this wasn't the Din she 'knew', this was a stranger. God, why did this have to be so complicated?

There was a long daunting pause. "Just don't touch anything." She let out a sigh of relief, and quickly attempted the climb to the cockpit. Proving to be much trickier with one hand. Her head breached the hole, and in front of her was something amazing. The cockpit of the Razor Crest lit up with the blue streaks of hyperspace. She stopped, awestruck at all of the buttons and levers, all of the details laid out before her. She didn't even notice the child wiggling out of her grasp.

It was beautiful, but also so terrifying. She watched the expanse of space whiz by, something her mind could've never been able to comprehend. And as she stared, she didn't notice when the pilot's chair slowly turned.

"You can come inside." She jumped at his voice, eyes meeting the helmet she didn't know was facing her. She quickly shut her mouth, just now realizing Grogu had made his way to Din's lap. Slowly, she finished the climb up the ladder and found herself at the door to the cockpit. Tentatively she stepped inside, eyes still wide in wonder, and made her way to the chair behind Din's left shoulder. He turned back to the controls, or more back to making sure the child didn't touch anything. She sat down slowly, still not entirely certain this was all real.

Swirling blue was constantly moving above and before her, it was mesmerizing, she felt herself getting lost in it. She could probably look at it for the rest of her life. It was the perfect distraction. Or until someone broke her from her daze, but she didn't expect that to happen anytime soon. Instead, she sat quietly, trying to take up as little space in the room as she could. Her thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind, she was allowed this brief moment of peace.

Sedona had held it together surprisingly well, though it was more likely she was in shock. Numb is what she would call it, seeing everything moving around her, but she didn't really feel it. A mild form of disassociation is probably what a therapist would tell her, her body was in survival mode while her brain just followed, screaming from the shadows. But at this current moment, her mind was quiet, the rolling blue was enough.

Comfortable silence, the baby sleeping, his snores being the only thing breaking through the hum of hyperspace. The pair sat quietly for what seemed to be a long time. It was the first moments of calm both had experienced at the same time, hopefully, it wouldn't be the last. In the past, the silence would have irked her, gnawed at her stomach. She probably would've started a conversation with anyone in the room. But now, it felt okay, her mind felt at ease for the first time since she'd got here. She ignored the voice that whispered, maybe it's him.

A sudden beeping broke through the serene atmosphere, Sedona jumped, while Din only moved his helmet. His hands reached out to flick some switches and punch some buttons.

She secretly wished she might be able to figure out what it all meant, but she wasn't going to get her hopes up.

"We're dropping out of hyperspace, hold on." It was an off-hand comment she realized because she didn't even have time to straighten in her spine when the ship seemed to lurch forward. Her hands flew to her sides, gripping the seat quickly. With the sudden movement, all of her anxieties flew into her throat. And as another giant space ship came into view, another emotion came forward.

Rage.

"Oh, those fuckers." The words were growled out before she even knew her mouth was open. Her eyes widening in surprise as a T-shaped visor snapped to face her. She could only shrug in response, it was the truth. Deep down, she was glad to know her shock-induced state hadn't taken everything from her, she could still talk some smack.

That was going to cause problems.

"You're staying on the ship, with the child." He had turned back to the controls, grasping the handles with gloved hands. The child in question had just woken up, cooing curiously at the scene change. "Make sure he doesn't cause any trouble, or whatever you said happens." She heard him and understood. But she was focused on trying to figure out how the hell she was going to hold her tongue when she knew what was about to happen. Din seemed to notice her unease, his helmet shifted slightly toward her, most likely confused by the white-knuckle grip she still had on the seat.

"You're going to have to gag me." The realization came suddenly, it was the only way, she did not trust herself to keep quiet. Din fully spun to face her now, even without seeing his face she could tell he was surprised and mad. She aimed for his eyes beneath the black visor, "It's the only way to shut me up." He let out a long sigh, that ended more in a frustrated growl.

"Are you serious?" His voice was sharp, serious disbelief. She nodded, it was ridiculous she knew, but with all the choice words swirling in her head, and the way she didn't have full control of herself, it really was the only way. With another growl-sigh he leaned down, ripping off a strip of material from his cape, and handed it to her, then he more or less shoved the child in her lap. "Just go— take him to the sleeping compartment, and... do it yourself."

She stood and left quickly, not wanting to anger him further. She staggered her way down the ladder, Grogu laughing at her struggles. She was panicking, her eyes darted over everything quickly, setting the child in the compartment she went over to her things. She zipped her suitcase closed, then hooked the handle to one of the nets that hung on the wall, hoping that would keep it out of way. Then with her purse, she made her way over to Grogu and climbed in after him. He babbled excitedly, not picking up on the frazzled emotions that were rolling off her in waves.

"We are going to have a totally chill time in here." She said to the child, though it was also mostly to herself. She adjusted till her back was against the wall, and allowed Grogu to clamber onto her lap. "It's gonna be totally cool and nothing bad is going to happen, alright?" Her voice had risen multiple octaves, and it seemed the gremlin had finally caught on to her panic. He tilted his head at her, making a much smaller, almost sadder sound. She instantly felt bad; making shushing noises, she rubbed his little back as he pouted up at her. The ship started to wobble, Din was maneuvering it into the bigger space ship, she held onto the little creature. And with a big thump, they were stopped.

Sedona let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Grogu's ears seemed to perk up at that, he settled down onto her lap. Listening carefully to the noises above her, she could hear Din moving around before steps began to descend on the ladder. He paused in front of the compartment, carefully observing the situation. Sedona could only stare back, doing her best not to let him know how scared she was, but he probably had a fear sensor on his helmet. Before he could turn away her voice betrayed her again.

"Di-Mando... could I have a weapon." It was a whisper, she was doing the best she could to hold herself together. But this was becoming more and more real by the second. He stared at her for much longer than she wanted, even Grogu made a small whine at the atmosphere. Then his hand moved to his wrist, tapping something, and a compartment opened adjacent to the one she was in. She peaked around the corner, eyes widening at all of the weapons laid out. And she almost laughed at the sight of her pink taser, placed there among all of the space gadgets. He grabbed that, setting it in front of her.

Without a word, he turned, fingers working at his wrist again. Almost simultaneously, the weapons doors and the door to her compartment shut. While the side ship door opened. She and Grogu were alone in the dimly lit compartment. He turned to look at her, head tilting in confusion. And she could only shrug in response.

There was silence on the ship for what felt like hours. Sedona and Grogu sat quietly, only the child breaking the silence with his babbles. She would shush him quickly; not really knowing when the crew would be joining the ship, and she didn't want their cover blown sooner than it needed to be. When his fussing became a bit more persistent, she gave him her keys that were still tucked in her purse. His big eyes widened further, entranced by the shiny metal and jingles.

Because how else do you calm a baby you don't know what to do with, you give it your keys. Fuck.

A heavy sigh passed through her as she leaned her head back against the wall. She's trying desperately to keep her emotions under control, obviously, Grogu could sense them, so if she was calm, he was calm. And that was most important right now. Her mind was constantly on edge, just waiting for something to happen. She didn't want to tie her mouth yet, fearing it would startle the child. Instead, she chewed on her lip, distracted by the soft tinkling of her keys.

The wait was soon over.

Metallic footsteps were making their way up the ramp. Thinking fast she tied the strip of fabric around her mouth, then held the child close. He cooed, moving his head up to face her before his ears flicked up in surprise. She tried to give him a smile.

It definitely looked absolutely horrifying.

His little features contorted into a frown, and a whimper was heard before the footsteps on the ship drew closer. They both snapped their heads to stare at the unmoving compartment door. Ears perked, listening closely as she heard someone ascend to the cockpit. There were noises outside of the ship, people were gathering, she felt her heart rate increase sharply. She squeezed them further into the corner of the compartment. The mattress creaked so loudly in the silence, but thankfully the noises coming from above them seemed to drown it out.

Her brain had ceased its flow of information. She wasn't sure who entered the ship first, it could be Din for all she knew. But she knew there were about to be a lot more people, and then shit was going to go down. Her mouth had gone dry thanks to the fabric, and the child had started to whine. She tried to shush him, but it came out more in weird hissing sounds. His eyes bugged out as he looked at her in fear, pushing his arms against her chest. She moved to set him down behind her, pretending her heart didn't break at the sight. She maneuvered herself more to the front of the compartment, leaving the keys behind for him.

She almost didn't notice the grumbling that followed the metallic clink of someone leaving the ship. The person was complaining, aggressively, but the voice was definitely not human.

Of course. That shitty droid.

The one emotion that had been hardest to keep at bay was rising up again. It coiled in her throat, sharpening her tongue with nasty thoughts. She hated this group, and all the shit they say to Din and the violent betrayal. She didn't know how she was going to be able to handle it if it happens right in front of her— the fabric in her mouth was going to be her saving grace. She really did not want to risk making this even worse for Din than it already would be.

And sure, she knows they get their due karma in the end. But the nagging pit in her stomach, the feeling of wrong, was eating her alive. She reached for the taser that sat at the front of the compartment and maneuvered her back to Grogu. If that compartment opens, she was going to fight like hell.

And that's how she waited.

And waited.

Back turned to the child as he jangled her keys around. She waited as voices crept closer to the Crest. As someone made their way up the ramp, then another. Until something was set down with a heavy thump, and a murmur of voices filled the hull. No one was really saying anything of importance, just fighting about who got to sit where. Sedona turned her head back to the child, who was now also listening attentively. His ears perked, owlish eyes met hers, the keys now forgotten in his little hands. He made a small 'ooo' sound and pointed to the compartment door, and she shrugged, holding her finger up to her mouth in a shushing motion.

Then there was the sound of the hatch closing, her head snapped back to the door. Trying to picture the scene behind the metal. She heard someone climbing the ladder, and then there was more grumbling. It wasn't long after, the ship began to move, she braced her hands behind her back as the compartment rocked. She looked back at the child, who was now back to jangling the keys around, she tried not to cringe at the sound, hoping they couldn't hear it.

She couldn't help thinking how insane this was. She was sitting in a space ship with a little green alien, gagged, and listening to other aliens argue. Her breath had started to quicken, and she could feel her pulse thumping in her neck.

This is so fucked up. What the hell am I even doing here. I'm going crazy-

Her spiraling thoughts were cut off when she felt a small hand on her back. She turned, blinking away a tear that had formed in her eye. Grogu made a tiny coo, his eyes wide. She instantly felt bad, he could sense her distress and it was making him feel bad. But she almost let out a sob when the little creature leaned forward, setting both his arms on her back in a tiny hug. A strangled noise tore through her throat, lifting one of her hands to pat his wrinkled little head. He made a snorting noise, one of the cutest things in the world, before plopping down and playing with the keys again. The interaction so small, but it had immediately calmed her down.

God, I can see why everyone loves this little shit.

She felt the atmosphere speed up, and the telltale feeling of hyperspace overtook the ship. A sound she recognized made her snap her head back to the door. The weapons hold adjacent to the sleeping compartment was open. She hadn't even heard their earlier conversations, too entranced by the little guy. She couldn't remember who had opened the door, but from the grumbling, it sounded like the one she hated most. Everything was happening much faster, but it felt as if time had slowed. She distantly registered the thump of someone jumping down the ladder, then the doors closing, and someone immediately hitting them.

"Hey, hey, hey. Okay. Okay. Okay, I get it. I'm a little particular about my personal space too." That voice, God she knew that voice. Her blood boiled as she listened further. "So let's just do this job. We get in, we get out, and you don't have to see our faces anymore."

How ironic, she almost rolled her eyes.

"Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian." The voice was much closer than she wanted it to be.

"Well, apparently they're the greatest warriors in the galaxy." There was a pause, Sedona gritted her teeth around the cloth. "So they say"

"Then why are they all dead"

And there was laughter. She heard a sharp giggle, the kind that makes your lip curl. And she felt herself shaking— she wanted to say something so fucking bad. She didn't know how Din could just take all of this.

"Well, you flew with him, Xi'an— Is he as good as they say?"

"Ask him about the job on Alzoc 111." Their voices grated her ears. Subconsciously she really did want to know what happened on Alzoc 111"

"I did what I had to." But this voice, with his calculated roughness, broke her heart. She didn't know how much more she could take before words started leaving her mouth. She heard a female voice, and her hands curled into fists behind her. She could hear what they were saying, but it wasn't fully registering anymore. Her ears rung with rage, the feeling of the child still leaning against her back was the only thing keeping her from ripping off the gag and screaming.

Her eyes narrowed at the continued jeering and insults. She tried to blink away the tears of anger that burned her eyes. Pressing all of her weight into her arms, her muscles tense. Ready for what was coming next.

The ringing in her ears didn't stop, even as a fistfight took place outside her door.

Only when she was suddenly faced by the people she did not want to see, did everything come crashing back to the surface.

The trio looked at her in shock, Din out of her view. She sees Mayfield's mouth moving as he walks closer to her, but she only picked up the last of his sentence.

"— you get lonely up here buddy? Huh." He stepped up to the compartment, Xi'an sauntered after him. Sedona tried not to focus on the way the other woman's gaze twisted into disgust. She turned her head to meet all 3 of their eyes, Burg looking even more devil-like up close.

"Why do you have your bed warmer tied up like that huh?" Din didn't answer Mayfield, she couldn't even see him, but with the way Burg had his arm locked out of view, he was probably being held back. "Is that how he kept you, huh, Xi'an? Is that how he likes 'em?" The woman in question hissed in response, and she settled herself against the door. Knife still held loosely in her hand.

"Didn't take you for the type." She snarled at Din, her eyes predatory as they shifted away from Sedona. "Maybe that code of yours has made you soft."

And suddenly there was another voice. Though not really a voice, instead it's sounded like an angry cat in the other room. Muffled, and full of rage.

It wasn't till she noticed the others were just staring at her in silence, that she realized it was her. She was snarling like a rabid dog, her mouth has developed a mind of its own. Thankfully all the words were swallowed by the cloth.

"Well let's see what she has to say," Xi'an said with a sickening smile, sharpened yellow teeth on full display. The next actions happened so quickly, Sedona honestly didn't realize what transpired. There was a flash of metal, as Xi'an's hand darted out like a snake. A searing pain appeared on her left cheek, and the cloth holding her words in fell away. She felt herself gasp, her hand instantly flying up to cradle her cheek. And then there was laughing, the trio laughed at her pain, and it only made her angrier.

"I said," She placed her hand, now sticky with blood, behind her back. Bracing herself. "I've got a penchant for smokes and kicking douches in the mouth. Sadly for you, my last cigarette's gone out."

And with that statement, her right foot flew out. Connecting with Burg's jaw, a sickening crack rang through the hull.

Then there was chaos.

The Devaronian stumbled back, his own hand coming up to clutch his jaw with a growl. Mayfield and Xi'an jumped for their weapons. But before anyone else could cross the threshold of the sleeping compartment, there was a blaster shot— and the metal door collapsed shut. Din had shot the control panel to the door, no one could get in, or get out without the use of his fancy wrist control. There was aggressive banging on the door, Sedona feared it might dent. She could hear swearing and shouting from the other side, but she wasn't done. She sat up on her knees, slamming her hands against the metal a few times. If Din wasn't going to say it, she would.

"Fuck you Xi'an! I wanted to be your friend so bad!" She could hear an aggressive snarl over the other commotion. Burg roared, and then there was a particularly loud thump against the door.

"Fuck you, Burg! Your breath fucking reeks!" Her voice had a heavy growl in it, all of the rage she could muster put behind her words.

"And fuck you, Mayfield! Prison is going to make you it's bitch!" Her voice had risen to a scream to counteract the noise. And with a few more slaps against the metal, she sat back down. Her hand coming up to the cut on her cheek. Xi'an's blades were so sharp, they cut deep and thin. A perfect slice, that was going to leave a nasty scar. It was then she realized the other creature in the room.

Grogu let out soft whimpers at the commotion, he was trying to hide behind her purse. Her stomach dropped at the sight, instantly letting out a soft coo of her own, she reached her hand out to him, trying to let him know it would be okay. But another voice broke through the pandemonium.

"Dropping out of hyperspace now." She scooped up Grogu, and he let out a small cry of protest. But she knew what was coming next. The ship lurched foreword suddenly. "Commencing final approach now."

"Cloaking signal now" Grogu let out a scream as they were suddenly airborne. Sedona's head crashed against the ceiling of the compartment with a thump. They slammed back down, the wind getting knocked out of her lungs. Trying to catch her breath she glanced down at the child, who was relatively fine. Just panicking by the way his massive eyes stared up at her. The ship stopped with a heavy crash, and she heard the droid speaking again. But she was far more distracted by the little green hand straining to reach her cheek.

"I'll be okay buddy" she whispered, bringing her hand up to gently grab his. He frowned, babbling urgently at her. She gave him as much of a smile she could muster, hoping he accepted it. "You don't have to heal me, I'm all right." Truthfully, she wasn't really all right. Her cheek was burning, and from what she could feel, the cut ran from just under her jaw bone, all the way up to her cheekbone. A neat slice, that was still steadily leaking blood. She set Grogu to the side and reached for her purse, fishing out the travel pack of tissues, and holding one to the cut. It wasn't stitches or magical healing space goo, but she hoped it would at least stop her from bleeding all over Din's bed. A loud smack interrupted their tentative peace. Mayfield's voice followed.

"Don't think we forgot about you girl, we'll be back for you!" There was laughing, and for the first time since the door had opened, the wrongness flooded back to her stomach. She focused on taking deep even breaths, for the sake of the child who whimpered beside her. She heard a fast beeping, and then someone jumping from the ship. They were leaving, and her heart only seemed to race faster. She waited till she heard the particularly loud thump of Burg.

"Din," she cleared her throat, voice coming out raw. "Don't let them capture you." She wasn't sure if she was just talking to an empty hull, or if the Mandalorian could even hear her raspy voice.

She just hoped desperately if he had, he would listen.

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

Taglist-

I’ve never done this before! But please message me if you’d like to be tagged, and I’ll try to figure it out along the way!

@thekingofthegoats @cosmicbreathe @daddydjarinxx @gallowsjoker

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x oc #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #din djarin x f!oc #din djarin x sedona #grogu #space cowboy #the child #sedona #star wars #the mandalorian crack #mando x oc #mando

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keiscait · 3 years

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Hi! Hope you're doing okay. I saw your matchups were pretty intriguing so I decided to request a bedroom matchup if that's okay. (I would also like to request a living room matchup so should I resend my application?)

I'm a 5'3" bisexual (male lean) female. Golden brown wavy hair till my mid back. Reddish brown eyes. Caramel complexion. Full lips. I also love a little mole on my lower lip on the left side. Lean hourglass.

The only sport I do is swimming (not competitive all the time. Sometimes I do it for the heck of it or for exercise) and I love it. But that's about it.

I'm a Pisces and a Slytherin. INFP-T (Turbulent Mediator). I'm an introvert so I tend to be a little shy at first and opening up to others takes me a while. But once I actually like a person I would literally kill for them. I also don't trust easily. I have been diagnosed with depression so I don't even trust myself when the going gets rough. Although I have been trying my best to get out of it. I'm also claustrophobic so I tend to avoid crowds and cramped places. Also spiders and I just don't get along. I woke up to the feeling of something crawling up my arm once and I opened my eyes to see it was a spider and since then I can't stand to be in same room as those bugs. Seriously I'll cry otherwise.

I'm a huge astronomy nerd. Stargazing is the second love of my life. I love reading and listening to music. Music is the first love of my life. I listen to almost every except for heavy metal. Don't really have anything against it just that I end up with a headache after listening to it. My favourite type would either be alternative or pop, depends on my mood.

I'm not into gossiping. More of the deep-conversations-at-3am type of person. Offer me dark chocolate and I'll be your loyal servant of the rest of my life (just kidding... mostly). I love learning new things especially about art and culture. I grew up on the coast so I love nature.

I guess I'm drawn to people who have a good sense of humour and are respectfully of other people's boundaries and opinions. Seriously to me the manners that "maketh" the man appeal more than the genes.

I'm not the confrontational type so I seriously can't stand to argue with the people I love. Also I am a tab bit on the sensitive side (perks of being a Pisces *yay*). Like I don't mean to get overwhelmed by the slightest of things but after a hard day if I come back home to see my favourite snack (ramen) and movie (Tangled) ready, I'm probably gonna spend the time meant for "relaxation" on crying because I just get overwhelmed over unexpected things, I'm sorry. That's about it I guess. Thanks!

((I GOT CARRIED AWAY AND WROTE A MINI FIC HELLO))

Hello and welcome, darling! Thanks for paying me a visit. I hope you’re well, I want you to know that this is a safe space for you. Please make yourself at home (⌒‿⌒) I understand you’d like a bedroom matchup, but unfortunately, there isn’t enough info on here for me to deduce a good one (and I don’t want to half-ass your matchup) 😔 But I’m glad you mentioned your interest in a Living Room matchup, so let’s make our way over there! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

For you, I’ve invited...

Akaashi Keiji! (Runner up: Kozume Kenma)

Akaashi has proven time and time again that he knows how to handle people. His understanding of the different ways people think is possibly his biggest strength, and he knows exactly how to adapt to various personalities. The exact reason why I matched you with him. He’s laid back and incredibly pulled together, so there is no way for him to overwhelm you and will never cross any boundaries you’ve set. He seems like a no nonsense type of person, but is used to chaos, and knows how to resolve it because of Bokuto.

- Your relationship with Akaashi would start out with him observing you first. He’ll notice your little quirks, and will be able to detect any non-verbal cues and signs about your mood

- Even when you guys aren’t together yet, he can tell if you find yourself starting to spiral

- The first time he catches it, he won’t push you to talk about it if you don’t want to (and he can 100% tell if you don’t want to), but will still do what he can to make things less overwhelming for you, even in the smallest ways he can

- In return, he will appreciate the fact that you like deeper topics and interests, as he constantly surrounded by chaos and shallow conversations. Totally seems like the type to prefer having a glass of wine in a quiet place over a bar/club

- Another thing he’d love about you is your bluntness and honesty, as he shares the same qualities. You two would be a team!

- Your relationship would be built on the foundation of trust, as you both let your walls down around each other

- Once you two are together, he just has to be taught once, then he will have mastered navigating you down to an art form

- He can tell when you need space, or gifts, or words, or a day out, or an evening walk, or silence, or warmth - as long as it’s within his capabilities, he will give it to you

- In return, just love and respect him, and make sure he knows how grateful you are for everything he does!

This turned into a mini fic askjdhf I hope you like it! (warning: angst, but with a happy ending)

It was dark.

Somehow, you have made friends with the dark - you’re well-acquainted with the way it envelopes you in its quiet. It is an old friend you’ve had a of topsy-turvy relationship with. It shows up in so many different forms - a cup of your favorite hot chocolate; the coast in the nighttime; a confidant when your music blasts from your bedroom speakers. Sometimes, it’s dusted with stars; this is when it loves you most.

But tonight, it was not kind to you. You lay there and feel yourself sinking, cries clawing up your throat with no signs of making it out, so they come out in the form of silent sobs. You wonder why the dark allows you no comfort tonight.

Your phone lights up, a message - but you’re submerged in the company of your old friend, too focused on its bellowing silence.

After a few more moments of trying to swim up, something cuts through the vastness of the night, and you’re back on your bed, in your room, now illuminated with light pouring from the hall. You look back and see a figure standing in the doorway - your boyfriend, Akaashi, brings you back to reality.

He observes you for a few more moments, assessing the situation. Nothing he’s unfamiliar with, but he still has a concerned look on his face. He reached for the lightswitch but stops in his tracks. His voice, sweet like caramel, breaks the silence.

“Should I keep the lights off? I don’t want the light to shock you.” You nod, then he makes his way to you.

He sits on the edge of the bed and places a hand on your figure, his movements all taken with immense care and gentleness.

“I brought you ramen. I figured you haven’t eaten yet.”

You were about to ask how he knew, but he interrupted, “Last thing you texted me was that you were on your way home. That was hours ago.”

“I’m sorry,” was all you could manage. Akaashi just shook his head with a reassuring smile. His hand stayed on you the whole time.

“Please let me help you, my love.”

He held out his hand for you to take it. Suddenly, you no longer felt like you were swimming up - you were back ashore, and right there stood Akaashi Keiji, like a lighthouse in the night.

I CLEARLY GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY BUT I HOPE YOU LIKED THAT, DARLING! Remember, you have a home here, please feel free to pay me a visit anytime.

Thanks for dropping by! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

#haikyuu!!#haikyu matchups #haikyuu matchups #hq matchups #haikyuu requests #haikyu requests #hq!!#haikyuu #haikyuu matchup #hq #livingroom #haikyu matchup #haikyuu headcanons #fukurodani #keiji akaashi #akaashi keiji #haikyuu fic

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typinggently · 4 years

Note

I know you're not taking prompts any more, but I just want to tell you how much I love them— especially the Frank 'n Billy drabbles. Should you ever be inspired to do a "filth special" for them again, I'd go utterly wild. These two are my absolute problematic favorites and the way you write Bill is smoother than cream and sharper than glass. Hotter than a shot of vodka set on fire. Spot on nailing it. I'm in love!

Honestly I keep coming back to this message? Thank you so much for your kind words, I’m speechless. 💜❤️🧡💛💖 I just?? thank you so, so much! I’m so happy that you enjoy my writing!!

and yes - they’re the ultimate problematic fave and I love them so, so much!!!😭

(Also...I know this took me super long but I’m always open for prompts or questions of any kind!!! I’m sorry that I gave the impression that I wasn’t!)

But without further ado. Please – enjoy this humble little offering of filth!!!

(I took the liberty and just picked something I wanted to write...)

8. convincing the other to try something they’re not interested in and then making them like it

Warning: (mild)BDSM, slightly under-negotiated kink (Frank goes with it all and doesn’t even notice that there’s a conversation to be had, but it’s not exactly good bdsm etiquette on Billy’s part.)

Honestly, there are a lot of things those two convince each other of, but let’s go with this:

Blindfolds.

And I have to start this by acknowledging that Frank is a nasty filthy beast, but I’m p sure he doesn’t think all that much? Like, he didn’t sit down and google bdsm etiquette. He just does whatever and is naturally decent enough to make it work. He’s the type to get a little wild, but he’s not very educated about the subject.

I’m saying that because while he’s 100% up for a bit of breathplay here and there, some rough shit, some tackling etc etc, but he doesn’t think about it. So when Billy brings that whole thing up, he’s all “hm I’m not sure, I’m not really into that kinda thing.” (Cut to Billy giving him a very blank look)

It takes a lot of soft purring and pouting until Frank finally agrees that alright, sure, I’ll try it, fine. (and by “a lot” I mean maybe 10 minutes of it, since Billy is very pretty and very convincing and Frank isn’t all that strong. But don’t judge him for it. 10 minutes of Billy with his hands in his hair, kissing his neck and telling him how good it’ll feel is a lot to handle).

Now. Frank on his back on the bed, shirtless with his wrists crossed over his head, blindfolded very effectively and very luxuriously with a silk sleep mask. Truthfully, it’s probably Agent Provocateur simply because Billy’s a creature of luxurious pleasures and the pretty pink box? The silk he gets to tie behind Frank’s head? …nice.

What we have to take in account, of course, is that Billy is a very smart man and he uses his intelligence for evil. Which is to say that agreeing to try new things with Billy means you agree to at least 2 things more than you thought you were agreeing to, because you don’t read the fine print.

In this case, Frank wasn’t aware that agreeing to blindfolds would mean agreeing not only to light bdsm but also to edging.

Billy didn’t tie up his wrists, of course. He’s too smart for that. He told him that no problem, don’t worry, just keep your hands over your head, yeah?

Frank (idiot supreme) was alright with that, because the thought of getting tied up isn’t all that nice but he can keep his hands up, no problem. Except. You know. He didn’t exactly expect how hard it’d be to keep his hands down when Billy’s touching him.

That’s where the teasing comes in. And sure. The whole point of this was to experience touch more intensely, but Frank didn’t really think it would work. Now he’s quite literally in Billy’s hands and at his mercy. And Billy I staking full advantage. The gentlest touches, most delicate – fingertips trailing down his chest, over the quivering-tense lines of his abs and his biceps, just above his waistband, along his jaw. One could think he’s never touched Frank before and now has to make up for it. Not that Frank’s thinking that, because really, he’s not thinking at all. This is way more intense than he’d thought and he’s shivering before Billy even puts his mouth on him.

And that? Poor Frank? He has no real way of knowing what Billy’s going to do, and his mouth is so hot, so soft. A mix of body worship and self-indulgence – Billy’s just wholeheartedly enjoying what he’s doing, taking his time kissing down Frank’s sternum, dipping his tongue into his bellybutton, nipping on his lips, sucking on his throat, slipping his tongue into Frank’s mouth, …

Now, when Billy undoes Frank’s fly, Frank could hope that it would give him some relief but this is Billy we’re talking about. He gives Frank’s cock the exact same treatment – feather-light touches and soft-hot kisses, the occasional, playful flick of his tongue. It’s a lot. Frank’s an absolute mess.

And if he tries to speak up?

“Bill, I swear to –“

“We’re not doing gags today, sweetheart, that’s not what we agreed on. Just shut up now, we can try that some other time. That’s a whole other conversation to be had and I’m not sure you’re up for that right now. I mean, there are many different options.” And here, the bastard just goes off. 5 minute monologue on gags, his personal aesthetic preferences, the in depth-differences, etc.

Talking, of course, means even less attention for Frank’s poor, throbbing cock, which is especially cruel since Billy isn’t just not giving him what he needs, he’s also making matters worse by painting such pretty pictures for him. And with his eyes closed, he has no way of distracting himself from the mental image of Billy, flushed and pretty with dark, hooded eyes, jaw working and chin dripping –

You know, handcuffs would actually make this whole thing a lot easier.

But Billy’s not made of stone. So eventually, he too can’t take it anymore, overwhelmed with how he’s affecting Frank.

Honestly, it would be p easy to go the Bottom Frank route here. I’m not doing it, though, because truly, the Billy sinking down on Frank’s cock after all this teasing? Frank moaning, pressing his shoulders and wrists into the sheets in an effort to keep them there, shivering, writhing, gasping...that’s good shit

Billy may be the one riding his cock, but Frank’s the one getting fucked. He’s a mess. No clear thought to be had, absolutely drunk on pleasure. And he can’t keep still. He tries, but his hips are twitching, he’s throwing his head from one side to the other, abs twitching with the half-hearted attempts of stilling.

Billy’s having a great time. Watching Frank lose control like that, flush spilling down his chest, powerful body shaking and twitching… That’s something indeed.

And to make things worse, Billy won’t let him come. Ranging from “Come on, Frankie, you can do better than that.” To “Don’t you fucking dare”

A (gentle) hand wrapped around his throat to feel his pulse flutter and Billy’s riding him hard and fast, his own voice finally slipping, desire bleeding through until he finally gives Frank permission to come.

I truly think Frank would lose time for a little bit. The whole thing is entirely too intense. The darkness, the heat, the what felt like hours worth of teasing all finally culminating – it’s overwhelming. And it goes ON. Frank’s shaking, he’s moaning, body twitching almost violently.

(Billy takes it all with a glint in his eyes. Frank’s never looked this pretty and he feels so good – a combination that pushes Billy over the edge pretty much immediately, and he get’s to enjoy the heavenly visuals while enjoying his own orgasm, one palm resting on Frank’s chest to stabilise himself)

To make it short: blindfolds are a SUCCESS.

(naturally there’s aftercare – Billy’s very good at soothing and gentling Frank, and he even goes as far as to let himself be snuggled even though they’re both sweaty and sticky)

💜❤️🧡💛💖 thank you again for your lovely message!!!💖💛🧡❤️💜

#filth #brank #frankenbilly #I-#:'>

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heyitsdoe · 5 years

Text

The Caged Bird Must Sing | One Piece | Chapter 8

Words: 5.7k

<- Chapter 7

Summer didn't visit The Heart Seat at all after her rather heated argument with Law. She was too angry at him for wanting to dictate what she could and couldn't do with her life. By the sound of it, he hadn't interacted with Kid in a long time, and he'd seemed nice enough upon their first meeting. That led her to believe that Law was just being stubborn and a jerk.

Why couldn't Law just be happy that she was able to get a date? Couldn't he see that she was trying to move on with her life and be happy? Couldn't he see she was trying to come to terms with the fact that he himself just wasn't interested? It was partially his fault for all this happening anyways, she thought.

Maybe she'd been holding out hope for too long, those past few years, that Law would somehow turn around and notice her genuinely for the first time. It wasn't her fault that he was just so damn gorgeous and mysterious…Nor was it his, she supposed. But she was in no mood to think he was faultless, and so she stubbornly refused to believe he was in the right.

The day before, Kid had called and asked to go to dinner the next day. Summer had eagerly agreed, actually looking forward to seeing him again. He'd been rather intriguing when he'd showed up the first time, and she was sure that the night would be filled with interesting conversation.

Now that the day was here, she scrambled around her closet for something nice to wear. The lime green sundress she'd worn for the date with Basil Hawkins was dirty, and so that was out of the question. She wanted to dress to impress, so anything short of a skirt and blouse or a nice dress was out of the question. He'd mentioned he was taking her to his favorite place, and so she decided to wear her favorite thing in accordance.

In her inability to wait patiently for something anticipated, Summer found herself ready to go an hour before Kid was even supposed to pick her up. She paced her kitchen, idly petting Max on the head as she stared out into her apartment. Nerves were beginning to get to her, and the butterflies wouldn't leave her stomach.

So many things could go wrong, but she worried most of all about embarrassing herself in front of not only him but the patrons of the restaurant as well. She let out a slow breath, forcing herself to calm down.

There was a gentle knock on her door and she quickly glanced at the clock. It was only 7:12. Way too early to be Kid. She walked to the door and peered out the peephole, smiling at who it was.

"Hitomi, how are you?" The olive-skinned girl gave a smile back, stepping into the apartment when Summer invited her in.

"You look especially fancy tonight. Going somewhere?" She questioned, which made Summer blush.

"I'm…actually going on a date." Her eyebrows arched up, amusement dancing in her red eyes.

"Well, would you look at that. I knew you'd get one pretty easily. What's his name?"

"Eustass Kid." She nodded slowly, unfamiliar with the name but sure that she was in good hands. Because if she wasn't, things wouldn't go too well for whoever this man was. She'd be sure of it.

"Well, I'm sure you'll have fun. But what I came over to ask was if you happened to see Soma's rubiks cube anywhere? He hasn't been able to find it and I wondered if he brought it over for his birthday."

Summer frowned, thinking back to that Saturday. Then, she shook her head. "I don't think so. He didn't have it out at all and never mentioned it. Maybe he left it at school?"

Hitomi gave one more quick glance around. "Hmm. Maybe." Her focus returned to the blonde. "Anyways, I'll get out of your way. You'll have to tell me how your date goes when you get back."

"Will do." Summer assured with a grin. The two started towards the door, and Hitomi gave her friend a little wave before heading down the hall to her own apartment. Summer watched her leave before shutting the door, taking a deep breath. She glanced at the clock again. Only 7:18. Dammit, this was taking forever.

Being in such a nervous state that she was, she wandered back to her bedroom and checked her makeup once more. Everything looked fine, with mascara in place and eyeliner making her eyes pop. It wasn't often she wore formal makeup and anything that took more than five minutes to do in the morning, so the application of foundation and some eyeshadow made her look…really good, she concluded. She grinned at the results of her handiwork after slaving in front of the mirror for half an hour making sure it was perfect.

After getting worked up again over how wrong the evening could go, she decided to plant herself in front of the tv to distract herself. She told Kid which apartment building and door she lived in, so he'd probably knock when he got there. Besides, one of her favorite shows was on.

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

By the end of the show, the clock on the stove displayed 7:58. Summer double checked her phone, seeing no missed calls or texts. She bit her lip, wondering if he would actually come.

Another five minutes passed, and by then, she was getting worried. In her worry, she even stepped out of the apartment and looked out over the small amount of parking lot she could see, on the off chance he'd be standing there waiting for her. There was nothing.

Yet another ten minutes went by, and she was just about to call and ask where he was when suddenly her phone vibrated. She jumped, surprised by the sudden noise. The caller I.D. showed Kid, and she answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, sorry I'm late. I'll be there in about five minutes." She smiled, relieved that he hadn't stood her up at least.

"Oh, no worries. I'll be waiting here."

"Cool, see ya." He said, and he hung up a moment later. She stared at her phone a moment, finally shrugging it off. Kid seemed like the brash type anyways. His brisk nature didn't surprise her all that much. The big and burly men she'd known in her life tended to be rough around the edges. But they always turned out to be sweethearts underneath all that tough exterior.

It took ten minutes for him to finally get there. Summer marked it off as traffic. He called again, stating he was in the parking lot below and for her to come down. She raised a brow at that, slightly irked he hadn't come and gotten her at her apartment door. Still, she let it slide. It wasn't that big a deal anyway. Maybe Summer was just too much a stickler for details.

She made her way down the stairs, walking across the walkway to the parking lot. She spotted a running car in one of the closer spots. It was a black Lexus, with darkened windows so she couldn't see inside. Though, when she got closer, the driver honked twice to let her know it was him.

She sauntered up, opening the passenger door and peering inside. Kid held up a hand, patted the passenger seat.

"Get in!" He called with a smirk. Smiling back, Summer climbed in and closed the door behind her. An overwhelming smell of cologne assaulted her nose, but she was able to hold back the initial face of repulsion. Slamming the door closed, she managed a smile.

"Bad traffic, huh?" She asked with a grin. He shrugged, backing out of the parking spot.

"Not really." And that was all he said. He didn't give an explanation as to why he was almost thirty minutes late, and judging from his continuous behavior she doubted he'd ever provide one. Summer glanced out the window, thinking that this date wasn't starting off very well. Still, she had hope for it to recover.

He didn't seem to want to chat very much in the car, for every conversation she started up, he ended with a few sentences. After awhile, Summer just gave up trying. So much for those lengthy conversations she'd been looking forward to…

He drove them through the city, past restaurants she frequented regularly, and even past the university itself. It took them about ten minutes to get to the place, and the only reason she knew it was the place was because he parked.

"We're here." He'd said, already starting to climb out of the car. She looked up in surprise, noticing the half-burnt-out neon sign that proclaimed the establishment as 'Shakky's Rip-Off Bar.' Summer raised a brow at the titled, wondering how such a business existed with a name like that.

Nonetheless, she followed Kid up to the door, and when they entered, she stepped into a dimly-lit bar of subpar quality. And that was putting it lightly.

The walls were painted either shades of gray or black, depending on the part of the room. Pictures of sports team hung along the walls, with a dart board in one corner and two pool tables in the other. A large tv took up the middle side of the room, with tables and chairs scattered around it.

The room smelled like booze and sweat, and of some damp smell that couldn't be anything good. Summer suspected mold, which wasn't a comforting thought. An open bar was on the opposite side, and a tall, thin woman stood behind it.

"Shakky!" Kid called, waving to her as he entered. The woman looked up, giving a little wave.

"I'll have Heat take care of you." She answered back, disappearing behind a door near the bar. Kid, meanwhile, wandered over to a table by the wall. Summer silently followed, glancing around at the other patrons.

They didn't look so…friendly, she noted, frightened when a couple of them scowled at her presence. Most were covered in dark and graphic tattoos, or sporting clothes that looked more like they'd been through the shredder. She swallowed thickly, glancing down and feeling awfully overdressed for the occasion in her knee-length spring skirt and white, long-sleeved shirt.

"Take a seat." Kid offered, gesturing to the chair opposite him. She did so with as much of a smile as she could muster considering the circumstances. If he noticed her apparent discomfort, he didn't mention it.

"So, this is your favorite place to go?" She asked, and he grinned.

"It's got the best liquor in town, though the prices are nothing short of awful."

"Ah." She nodded, thinking back to the company's name. Just then, someone came up and stood beside the table.

"What'll it be?" The man asked. Summer glanced up at his face, noticing his short and narrow eyes and blank face, almost like a scarecrow. Kid held up two fingers.

"Two bottles of scotch and an appetizer." Nodding, Heat walked off behind the bar, leaving the two alone.

Summer frowned. Now he was ordering for her. Things were going downhill pretty fast. And the worst part was she had to stay the whole time since he'd picked her up from her apartment. There was no escape besides completing the date in its entirety.

"So, you take pictures for a living?" He asked suddenly. She glanced up, glad that they were finally actually getting to a conversation.

"Oh, yes! I'm a photography major like I said before, and I do freelance photography on the side. You know, weddings, graduations, birthdays…"

"Hmm…ever take pictures of naughty things?" He asked with a wide grin, waggling his eyebrows up and down. Her face turned red, and she held up a hand to shoot down his assumption.

"No, no! Mostly scenery and modern shots." She finished quietly, watching him laugh at her embarrassment.

"Hmm…cool." He concluded, turning his attention to the tv on the wall. Summer's smile turned into a tight-lipped line. Heat took that moment to return with the alcohol and french fries as the appetizer.

For the next half hour, Kid's main focus was on the basketball game being played on the tv, interrupted by random questions directed at her. Most of them were downright rude. Summer munched unhappily on the french fries, deciding that they were probably the only things he'd be ordering that night. And as time went on, so did the alcohol.

By the time Summer had finished her first scotch, which had admittedly taken a long time since she wasn't used to such strong stuff, Kid had consumed at least three. He was working on his fourth by the time the game had finally ended. And by then it was already 9:30. Still, Heat had replaced her empty bottle with a margarita by her request. She'd failed to touch any more alcohol though.

Kid was obviously drunk. He couldn't quite sit still, and his shouting at the tv had increased as the night wore on. Summer could smell the alcohol on his breath from across the table. And when the game finally ended, he turned to Summer with a wide grin.

"Hey, the hot blonde across the table." She raised her eyebrows, as if expecting him to be talking to someone else. Which she was. "Yeah you. What cup size you rocking?" He asked blatantly.

Summer's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?" She asked heatedly. He chuckled, leaning forward across the table.

"I'm talking to you, pretty thing. How big are those tits of yours? I'm guessing…a C at the least?" His slurred voice said. Her cheeks were burning up from the embarrassment of the question.

"I don't think that's very appropriate." She breathed deeply through her nose, trying to keep herself calm. Kid's voice carried, and already one or two sets of unwanted eyes were staring at the noisy exchange at their table.

"I prefer D's myself but I can settle for a smaller fish."

Summer was feeling more and more insulted and…violated by his vulgar comments, but what he did next set her over the edge.

"Come on, just let me have a feel." He reached forward and gave her left breast a squeeze. She squeaked, slapping his hand away in anger.

"Don't touch me!" She shouted, standing from her seat. Kid stood too, anger plainly visible on his face.

"What's the deal? If you aren't putting out what's the point to this date? Chicks the are hard to get aren't worth my time." He asked pigheadedly.

Summer had had enough. Lip quivering in anger, and embarrassment, she grabbed the full glass of her margarita and threw it into Kid's face, drenching him all across his shirt as well. The room seemed to quiet down and all eyes were on them. Kid pulled his hand back, wiping away the liquid from his face with a deep frown.

"I'm insulted you think that way of me. And frankly, I think you're rather insufferable." She huffed, going to grab her purse from the back of her chair. She turned back to him, intending to bid him a goodnight, but suddenly the back of his hand sailed across her face and she was sent stumbling back from the force of the blow.

"How dare you talk to me like that!" He roared, alcohol-smelling-breath hitting her full in the face. She was stunned, shocked that he had actually hit her. She'd never been slapped before. The force of his slap had caused reflex tears to begin at the corners of her eyes, and she backed up another step.

"This bitch should learn her place!" He shouted again. His ferocity had frightened her, and now in his drunken rage, he began towards her again, his hand raised. Heat grabbed him from behind and looked at Summer.

"Go!" He called, nodding towards the door forcefully. She took a tighter hold on her purse and wasted no time in belting out the door.

Once outside, she found to her surprise that it had began raining sometime in the hour and a half she'd been inside. Actually, raining was a bit of an understatement. It was a full-out downpour. People hid under umbrellas or avoided walking in the open altogether. Unfortunately, Summer had no protection from the rain. Nor did she have a ride home. Standing under a ledge from one of the roofs nearby, she dug out her cell phone and sighed in frustration. It had died.

"Dammit." She muttered, sticking it back into her purse. So much for that…

The street sign told her she was on Herriman and Fifth Street. It wasn't too far away from The Heart Seat. Though getting there on foot would take much longer. Still, there was nowhere else she could think of to go. Her apartment was a good half hour, maybe 45 minutes walk from Shakky's Rip-Off Bar.

Resigning herself to a very cold and wet walk, she started off in the direction she thought the bar was.

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

Law scowled. Paul had sauntered up to the bar again, demanding several rounds of drinks.

"I should just get a divorce, I tell ya. That'll show that bitch to cheat on me with her secretary." He slurred, knocking back his fifth shot.

"Then why don't you?" The young man asked in a bored tone of voice. He really wished the man would take his problems somewhere else. Paul most of all bothered him to no end. Especially when he was already in a rotten mood.

Summer's date was tonight, and he hadn't seen her since he'd yelled at her about not going. Looking back, especially after a few days to think about it, perhaps he'd crossed a line. But he knew Kid. And he knew exactly what he'd try to start with her. Summer was sensible. As long as she didn't allow him to drink too much, she'd be alright. He hoped.

Paul continued to rant on about his problems, but Law tuned him out. There was still that spark of worry in the back of his head that not everything was alright. Or maybe it was just his jealousy again. Who really knew? Still, his mood already soured, it was the most he could do not to start hurling shot glasses at the shouting man occupying his bar.

Corazon had left early that night, meeting with a man who claimed to want to buy his bar and convert it into some money-lending business. Legal, of course, as he stated. And so the clumsy owner was nowhere to be found that night, which meant no one to scold him for his less-than-pleasant behavior. He supposed a bit of brooding wouldn't hurt anyone, necessarily.

He was too busy dealing with the bitter Paul to notice a dripping-wet Summer wander through the front door. Her hair hung in limp strands on her shoulders and back, and she shivered in her drenched clothes.

"Summer?" He heard Zoro ask out of nowhere. Law glanced up, seeing the security guard walking towards the door. Then, swinging his gaze over, he saw the disheveled state the blonde was in and immediately felt his heart drop. Paul forgotten, he straightened up where he stood and tried gauging what had happened to her.

She sniffed loudly, and Zoro talked quietly with her, holding her shoulders gently. Again, Law felt that spark of jealousy at him touching her. It should be him comforting her, not the marimo-head.

Zoro looked up and locked eyes with the bartender, and he steered her in the direction of the bar. "I think you'd better take this one." He muttered, glancing around at the room. "I'll cover for awhile." Summer hiccuped, trying her best not to cry. Law took that as his cue to step in, and he placed an arm around her shoulders.

"Let's get you cleaned up." He said gently, guiding her into the back hallway and to Corazon's office. Since the older man was absent that night, he figured it would be a good place for her to calm down in relative privacy.

He opened the door and sat her down in one of the chairs. Then, letting her know he'd be right back, went in search of a few towels to help her dry up. He returned with two, fluffy white towels, unfolding one and wrapping it around her torso. She shivered from the cold, and he got up to turn the heat up a little more on the thermostat.

"Summer." He said gently, earning her attention. She looked up, and it was then he noticed the runs of black makeup down her face from around her eyes, and the smudges of green that had once been her eye shadow. She sniffed again, grabbing onto the edges of the towel and hugging herself with it. Once he'd gotten her attention, he took the other towel and began wiping away at her face. "What happened?"

"You were right." She said thickly. "Eustass…he is a scumbag." She choked back several sobs, and he wiped away the few tears that slid down her cheek. "He took me to this bar and was rude, inconsiderate. After things got bad I had to walk in the rain. My phone died so I couldn't call anyone." She explained. "He barely payed attention to me at all, drank so much alcohol, and then he…he…" She shook her head, but he narrowed his eyes. Her hesitation was concerning. Law's hand stopped moving the towel, staring at her face.

"He what?" He asked gently but with enough force to display the anger that was building. So help him, if that bastard did anything to her…

"He…touched my chest." She admitted, as if she were the one doing the awful thing. It was just too embarrassing to admit. She closed her eyes and wept then, burying her face within the towel around her.

Unseen by Summer, Law seethed. His grip on the towel tightened, his knuckles growing white. The anger was all but evident on his face, the muscles in his arms and legs tensed as he shook with rage. The fact that it was Kid that made Summer cry like this, feel violated in such a way, it was too much for him.

'That piece of shit…I'll kick his ass…He'll fucking pay for this…' He thought, his heart breaking for the mess of a young woman in front of him. Then, realizing that being angry in front of Summer wouldn't help anything. He had to gently force her head out of the towel in her hands, but she allowed him to.

He was so gentle with her, patient and caring, and all she wanted to do was curl up next to him, feel safe in his arms. The anger she'd felt before long forgotten, she only sought his comforting presence to help her calm down. Law seemed to sense this, because he took his towel and draped it over her hair, letting the strands begin to dry off.

"You were right." She muttered. "You were right all along, and I didn't listen."

"Hey." He said in that soft voice she loved so much. "This isn't your fault."

"Yes it is! I should've listened to what you told me." She cried. He shook his head, holding her head between his hands so she would pay attention.

"Don't you dare think that way. You did nothing-" He stopped, staring at her face intensely. Now that her makeup was gone and out of the way, he could distinctly see a bright red outline on one side of her face. Just the right size to be a hand. His thumb gently brushed the edge and Summer winced, which didn't go unnoticed by him. "That fucking idiot hit you, didn't he?" He asked deadly quiet. It was a miracle that he was able to keep his anger in check at this new revelation.

"Yes…" She hesitantly admitted, not wanting to say it out loud and make it true. And the way Law was handling all this had her scared. "H-he called me a bitch and yelled at me." She'd never been struck before but it felt…dirty, now that she had. As if she were some weakling who couldn't defend herself. Her confidence was shaken.

"What am I doing wrong? Why can't I just find one good person out there who wants to date me? What is wrong with me?" She sobbed, tears beginning to flow again, Law wiped them away, shaking his head.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Summer." He paused, his face full of confusion and emotions. As if he were making a decision. "You're just not looking in the right places." He finished quietly.

She sniffed, too distressed to look him in the eyes. "And where am I supposed to look?"

There was a pause, then he spoke quietly. "Right here."

It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did, her heart skipped a beat, just one. She glanced up, seeing the pain on his face. Not quite understanding where it came from, searching his eyes for any indication of pity or obligation.

"What do you mean?" She asked eventually, not wanting to get her hopes up and misinterpret what he was saying. He looked away and then seemed to decide something. When he returned her gaze, it was intense, but gentle.

"I'll take you out on a date. So you know what's it feels like to have fun with another person." Her eyes widened, ears focusing on the word 'date.'

"You will?" She asked meekly, wiping away the snot that threatened to fall. That would be the worst of her problems now. He nodded with a little shrug.

"Sure." Then, he grabbed the towel on either side of her and began wiping down the front and sides of her neck. "But first things first. Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"

Summer nodded, allowing him to help her for a moment until the places that needed drying were in areas he didn't dare touch, then left to go get Vivi so she would have some female company. He did come back to give her his leather jacket though, stating that her white shirt was a little see-through when wet. She looked down to find that her bra was easily visible under the fabric as it stuck to her skin.

Vivi had offered to drive her home, seeing as how Law only had a motorcycle to get around, which would only drench them even more in the pouring rain. After Summer had calmed down enough, she quietly thanked everyone for their help and had left out the door with the blue-haired beauty.

As soon as she'd left, Law's smile for her sake vanished in an instant. Zoro noticed his sudden change in attitude, and raised an eyebrow as he started heading towards the back door. He crossed his arms.

"Oi! Where are you going?"

"Out." Was all he'd said, and then he disappeared into the back alleyway.

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Eustass scowled at the half-empty bottle of alcohol in his hand. It was so dark outside, and his vision had become so blurry, he couldn't remember what he'd been drinking in the first place. Angrily, he tossed the glass container sideways and into the wall of the alley. It shattered upon impact, the pieces scattering all over the ground. Kid's steps teetered as he uneasily made his way to the next street over.

The rain came down but in his drunken state of mind he barely registered it was there. The downpour from earlier had gone away, with only a soft shower to replace it. So saying, he couldn't hear the footsteps as they followed behind him.

Kid reemerged from the alley and onto Van Buren Avenue. Still not quite sure where he was, he scratched the back of his head while glancing up and down the road. Where in the hell was his car?

"Eustass, you look lost." A voice said behind him. He swung around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. Standing in the alleyway he'd just come from was a tall man, but in the dark, rainy hours of the night he couldn't be sure exactly who it was.

"Who're you?" He shouted, turning to face him. Whoever it was kept their head down and face hidden. They walked forward slowly. When the figure came up beside Kid, he placed a hand on the back of his shoulder and steered him up the street.

"Let's take a walk." He said reasonably. Kid wasn't in any state to refuse and, figuring it was one of his friends trying to help him get home, he shrugging a little and followed where they took him.

They walked for a couple minutes, Kid still confused as to who was helping him, but every time he attempted to ask a question, the stranger would only reassure him some more with words like 'Almost there, now' and 'Just a little longer.'

Finally, it seemed they'd reached their destination, and the stranger urged him to go a sudden right. Without really looking to see where that led him, Kid followed obediently. Straight to the end of the dark alley.

He stopped, seeing the wall blocking his path, and frowned.

"What the 'ell is this?" He slurred, turning to face the stranger. Maybe something about the situation had started to sober him up, or maybe the passage of time had started to dilute his blood alcohol level, but he was able to see a little better now, and so stopped when he saw a very pissed off Trafalgar Law walking up towards him.

"Well, if it isn't Trafalgar fucking Law! Last time I saw you-" He could say no more than that, for Law's punch had sent him sprawling to the ground. "Urgh!" He cried out, face hitting the concrete.

Law obviously wasn't finished. He kicked at the man's side several times as he lay there in shock, grunting with each blow. Kid clutched the sides of his chest, trying to ward off the attack but he was too uncoordinated. Then, unsatisfied with how easy this was turning out to be, Law grabbed the back of his jacket and hauled him onto his feet.

Kid tried throwing a weak punch, still unable to catch up with the events that were unfolding before him. Law easily dodged it and slammed his back against the alley wall with as much force as he could muster. It was enough to knock the wind out of the confused drunk, and cause his head to smack against the hard brick behind him.

"Don't you ever," He growled at him, "lay a hand on her again, you bastard. You go near her, talk to her, or even look at her in a way I don't like and you'll be wishing I did more than just kick the shit out of you tonight." He hissed. Law's face was only inches from Kid's, and at that range the redhead could see the danger coming off the raven-haired man in waves. To any other person, it would've been enough to scare them shitless. But this was no regular person.

His threat only served to make the redhead angrier and, being the man he was, grinned cockily back at the bartender. "If Heat hadn't of held me back, I would'a taken her to an alley and had my way with'er until she screamed my name." He chuckled to himself, satisfied at seeing the rage on Law's face.

Unable to contain seeing Kid in less than a state of unending pain. He scowled, growling low in his throat as his fist connected once more with his face. And where that first one came, there were plenty more.

Law used the opportunity as a sort of stress-reliever, sending all the frustration he'd felt over the years straight into Kid's body. Each punch, each kick, felt more and more satisfying. And the only reason he stopped was because he began to feel a sharper pain in his fist each time it connected. He stopped after several minutes of unrelenting attacks, letting go of the front of Kid's shirt. The now-unconscious redhead fell limply onto the ground.

Law inspected his hand, seeing the nasty red marks along the ridges of his knuckles. They bled, and the prolonged closure of his hand was beginning to make it ache. Though most of the blood covering his hands was probably from the other man. Looking back at Kid, he decided that he'd gotten his point across well enough. His face bled in several places, he had a broken nose, and he may have bruised several ribs in the process.

"I'll kill you next time." He muttered the threat, straightening his clothes and walking back out of the alley.

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Unbeknownst to either of the men, a lone figure watched from the shadows, his cool gaze watching as the tall young man walked away from the bloody mess of a man on the ground. He'd heard the whole conversation as well.

Slinking away, he put a distance between the dark alley and himself, off to find the street's most notorious drug lord.

Chapter 9 ->

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