#feels like they need to spend less time on their cover at the bar

[filibusterphil]

I’m sorry this is getting ridiculous. Ava has been training for months to take on Adriel. And you’re telling me she can’t easily take out one wraith dude? She can’t beat up one shitty priest? The fuck has Beatrice been doing for training?

[kannagen]

went to my college’s bars for the first time this weekend and they were exactly as i expected. i did pregame too hard and was veryyyy drunk and i did have fun but they are lame and full of people i have no interest in. but alcohol and music will work on me regardless and no cover so whatever it was fun to be white girl wasted and bar hop for a night ☺️

[selenezq]

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞MDNI🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

I'm back with a fic I've written that was inspired by the wonderful @home-for-wayward-fawns

Edited by the lovely @the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes

Alastor x Reader

Reader is AFAB

CW: Stuck trope, dub con, semi public sex, penetration, oral, porn no plot

Help Me Mr. Radio Demon, I'm Stuck

It had been a long day. There had been lots of things to do: Charlie's bonding exercises, helping Husk restock the bar supplies, and taking an inventory of everything that was running low around the hotel—some general day-to-day tasks to keep it running. The only thing left on your list to do was your least favorite: laundry.

It had already been started, the melodic chime of the washer alerting you that it was time to move things along. With a sigh, you head to the laundry room and open the lid to the washer. Pulling your wet clothing out carefully, you ascertain what pieces need to be hung up to dry first. Humming softly as you work, you pull all the special care items out and hang them one by one.

Finally, all that needed extra care are hung to dry. Now you can focus on putting the rest in the dryer. You reach into the washer, grabbing a handful of wet clothes and chucking them into the final machine when you hear a loud clunk. Wondering if you had left another lipstick in your pocket, you bend down to investigate.

Getting down on your hands and knees before the dryer, you reach around, trying to find whatever had landed in there, but without success. You quickly decide to stick your head in the metal contraption to see if you could find whatever had dropped inside. Popping your head into the dryer’s opening, you immediately see exactly what you thought you would find: a forgotten container of lip color.

Grasping it firmly in your hand, you move to pull yourself out, only to find that you can't. You jerk yourself backwards, using more force this time, only to hear the faint ripping of the fabric of your blouse. Unwilling to ruin your shirt even more, you realize you are stuck—inside the dryer of all things. You groan in frustration, and it echoes in the small metal chamber. Briefly, you consider yelling for help, before deciding against the embarrassment that it would bring. "Fuck." You utter in frustration.

Alastor walks at a leisurely pace through the halls, lamenting the lack of occupants in the hotel today; they are off on some ridiculous adventure, providing for a less than entertaining afternoon. Mulling over his thoughts as he passes the laundry room, he wonders what everyone was up to, what amusements they were entertaining themselves with. Lost in thought, he almost misses the faint sound of your groan, quickly followed by an unladylike curse. Alastor halts, pivoting around in immediate curiosity. He steps through the door, only to be met with a sight that causes his trousers to feel too tight as his cock hardens within them.

You are currently bent in half and low to the floor, your plump ass barely covered by the short skirt you wear. Your top is bunched up, exposing the luminous skin of your lower back as you appear to be caught on something inside the dryer—trapped and waiting for him just like prey. How would your skin feel under his hands? His name would sound so sweet falling from your pretty lips. The thoughts came unbidden into his mind as an image of him rutting into you follows immediately afterwards.

Alastor had never dealt with these kinds of urges before—at least, until you. Your quick wit and kind smile had him yearning to spend time with you. The fact that you were the most breathtaking creature he had ever seen was only a bonus. He reaches his hand out, as if to touch your perfect posterior, before he seems to think better of it, letting his arm fall back down to hang at his side. He’s plagued with the desire to take you right then and there. Driven by his need, he takes a step closer so he is close enough to reach out and grab you. His cock twitches eagerly in his suit pants.

The Radio Demon's lips quirk into a sinister grin as his eyes rake over you hungrily. Feeling his licentious gaze, you call out helplessly, "Is somebody there?" Your voice echoes in the metal drum you find yourself captive within.

"It seems you've found yourself in a bit of trouble, my dear." Alastor remarks in his radio-filtered voice.

"Oh, I'm so glad you’re still here, Alastor. I seem to be stuck on something and I don't want to rip my shirt too badly; could you help me?" You ask, trying not to let the rising panic you feel at being trapped seep into your voice.

"I would be delighted to help a beautiful damsel such as yourself, pet." Alastor purrs, his radio voice filling the silence of the room. Using a shadowy tendril, he pushes the door shut, the echo of it closing loudly before sliding the lock into place with a snap. His feet bring him even closer to you, the heels of his boots clicking loudly. Close enough to touch, he stops, his large frame towering powerfully over you. He can feel the heat radiating off your body. "You silly girl; how did you even get stuck in there?" He chuckles deprecatingly.

"I wanted to remove the lipstick that fell in here so my clothes wouldn't get ruined." You answer, your voice muffled from the machine surrounding your upper body. You can feel him standing close to you and your heart races, pulse quickening. You've always found Alastor extremely charming, with his protective nature, dangerous aura, and hilarious jokes. Hips moving as you wiggle, jittery under the weight of his gaze, you try to free yourself once more.

Alastor watches as your shapely rear gyrates back and forth in your futile attempt to free yourself. He represses a groan, pondering what it might feel like against his throbbing cock. Bending at the waist, he leans down to place a clawed hand on your exposed lower back. "Calm down my dear; I'm sure I'll have you out in no time. I'm here to assist." He says, the static in his voice crackling dangerously, a direct contrast to the words the demon is saying. "Although, I don't see why I shouldn't have a little fun while I'm here." Alastor says, his usual smile taking on a predatory edge.

He kicks your right leg to the side, giving himself a clear view of the tiny strip of fabric barely covering you. You should feel the sting of embarrassment, but instead you can feel your pussy clench with need. "Alastor, I don't see how this could possibly help." You argue feebly, not really meaning for him to stop.

Not listening to the words he knows you don't mean, Alastor grabs your waist. His hands are on either side of your hips, claws digging lightly into your skin as he pulls on you, hoping to get you free. The material of your undergarments clings to your pussy, slick with want. As he tugs on you, your ass grazes against his barely constrained hardness and you bite your lip, aware of how big he feels against you.

"I plan to help myself first. Then I'll help you." The tall demon growls, his voice thick with his radio filter. You can hear static crackling and popping as he grinds into you. Using his power, he wills a cold tendril to pull your panties swiftly to the side. You don't protest, feeling a pleasurable jolt every time he humps and rubs his covered manhood against your backside. You find yourself desperate to feel him bare against your needy quim. As he pulls away momentarily, you find yourself holding back a whimper of disappointment.

Before you have too long to feel discontented, you feel his hot breath fanning against your bare cunt. Alastor's tongue darts out of his mouth, eagerly lapping at your clit and you can't help the gasp that wrenches its way from your mouth. He moves slowly, as if he's savoring a meal, each stroke sending pleasurable tingles through your body.

Alastor loves the taste of your juices, unable to think of a sweeter treat he's had in his life. Sliding his tongue down your slit, he plunges it deep within your cavern without warning. You let out an obscene moan as you feel his lengthy, demonic tongue reach just the right spot inside of you. Curling and slurping it, Alastor attacks your pussy with an intense vigor. He brings a hand up to your sensitive bud, massaging it with his digits in steady, circular, motions.

As he continues his ministrations for quite some time; you can feel pleasing tingles travel increasingly through your body and you know you won't last long. "Alastor, please don't stop!" You cry out, not caring about your volume as long as he doesn't cease his movements. Increasing his pace, his finger and tongue move in unison to bring you closer and closer to that edge you feel quickly approaching. With a loud scream of ecstasy, you feel your orgasm crashing, waves of pleasure flowing over you.

Holding onto you as your legs quiver, he continues to lick as you quake through it, his fingers still moving against your over-sensitive nub. You feel the creeping of shame as your post-bliss fades away. You can't believe you enjoyed this while trapped in this infernal machine.

With one final swipe, the overlord collects one last taste of your saccharine nectar. Pulling himself off of your sensitive flesh, he licks his lips with an indecent smacking sound. "You taste simply divine, darling." He coos delightedly at you. "You simply must let me sample that again sometime."

"I would love to do this again, but I still need help out of this dryer." You murmur, embarrassed. "Please Alastor." You tack on at the end pleadingly.

"Ah, I still intend to free you my dear, but I'm not quite finished. What kind of hunter would I be if I turned away such a gift, my prey already trapped and laid out deliciously for me?" He says with a tsk, tsk, tsk. Bringing his hands to his belt, he undoes it with a hurried, urgent pace. Sliding it through the loops on his trousers he pulls it out, discarding it recklessly, and you hear it clatter against the linoleum.

You hear a metallic zipping sound before his colossal cock is springing free, hitting your ass with a hard thwack. Alastor slides his considerable length along your already soaked hole, teasing you playfully. "I'd like to hear you beg again, pet." He decides, and you can hear in his tone that this isn't a request.

"Please, please, please, Al; I need this. I need you inside of me." You beg prettily, desperately. Without even waiting for you to finish, he's shoving himself inside you, his thick hardness stretching you almost painfully. Your slick walls grip his hardened member perfectly and he lets out a throaty groan.

"You are just as warm and tight as I always imagined, my doe." He praises, thrusting into you, driven by his overwhelming desire to feel you come apart around his aching cock. His hips move at a brutal pace, slamming into you over and over again, his tip hitting your cervix every time. The dryer shakes with the force of each thrust as he chases his own release.

"Before I reward you with my seed, I want you to cum for me one more time. No holding back those beautiful noises you make." He says authoritatively, not stopping his movements.

"I don't,” you pant out, “know if I can." Pleasure overwhelms you as he drills into you over and over again.

"You can, and you will. I'm not asking, darling." He commands, snapping his hips into you, hitting just the right spot as he does. You can sense another orgasm creeping upon you, despite saying you couldn't. You focus on that feeling as his cock moves in and out of you, producing a wet squelching sound. With a loud shout, you're pushed over the edge a second time. You shake as the force of your climax causes your knees to go weak, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

Alastor supports you as your body goes limp, your last bit of energy spent. His thrusts become erratic and sloppy as he follows his own high, the tightness of your soft cavern milking him. With a loud, guttural cry, he releases ropes of cum inside you, his cock twitching with every spurt. He calls out your name, his member deflating as the cooling mess of his seed slides out of you.

With a frustratingly easy snap of his fingers, you are freed from the dryer. In an instant you are on your feet in front of him, your blouse repaired, and your clothing all back in its rightful place, his suit fresh and pristine like nothing ever happened. "You could have just done that this whole time?"

"Ah, but where would have been the fun in that? We both enjoyed our time here tonight, after all." Alastor responds, patronizingly smug. A blush blossoms on your face as you think about the sex you've just had with the man you’ve been distracted by for quite some time. With a smug grin, he slides the lock on the door back open with a click. Grasping the knob, he holds it open for you, ever the charming gentleman. "Ladies first." He says holding his other hand out to help you. Together, you both leave the laundry room behind.

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 4

[prompt: roleplay] male reader x kang hyewon 8k words

“I need you,” Hyewon says in the uneasy dark of a hotel room, with two urgent fistfuls of your shirt, “need you to do to me all the things my husband never will.” “Yeah, I know,” you tell her, “you said that,” and her eyebrows move in all the wrong directions, “I’m just wondering if, you know, maybe we should give him a little more credit.”

-

Here’s the truth:

Hyewon doesn’t believe in leaving evidence behind and you don't find it particularly productive to doubt her; you’ve been talking in code for years. Parts and pieces of yourselves reduced down and bottled into set phrases that, to anyone else, would be totally incomprehensible.

"i've been thinking," she texts you, which you've come to understand means she's already made up her mind, "maybe we should do that thing we were talking about. tonight."

(You're not always so fast on the uptake.)

You send two back two texts, both of which ask "which thing?" because the hallway from the breakroom to your desk has poor reception and it never lets you send just one.

Then, right after you cross the threshold between signal-drowning-concrete and the glitzy glass-walled arboretum they've built to make you feel like you're not a total cog in their corporate machine, your phone pings the receipt of Hyewon's reply: a picture - her laptop, propped up on your coffee table with its screen angled for perusal, of a booking site that's filtered to show results for their 'king bed & view' room at a midrange hotel a forty-five-minute ride from your apartment.

"not really doing much narrowing down here hyewon."

She replies to you - her text bubble appearing over another couple still images, of herself in the vanity mirror as she curls her hair around her finger and holds this little black slip of a dress over her shoulder, black lacy lingerie in tow, the whole nine - with:

"i'm feeling kinda adventurous."

-

Five o’clock rolls around but you never really do figure it out. You spend the last three hours at work deciding which kink of hers (oh, does she have a few) this is all in service to.

There's nothing overtly sexual about her pics in the first place - not more than usual anyway, more showing off her curves and cut jaw than showcasing anything for her 'adventurous' intent. So that can't be the tell - you'd seen her in a corset once (you can't unsee it) and the angle of her hips to the mirror makes you think that if she was planning on pulling on a  pair of crotchless panties then she probably would've found her thigh high stockings, too.

You try and think of what the two of you had even talked about when discussing these little scenes - how many times you'd ended up 'in the mood' during or after such a meeting of the minds, how it'd snowballed from there, a whole list of filthy what-ifs that she'd probably put more thought into than you ever have - but you draw a total blank. It could be any of a number of things.

Until,

"i left you instructions on the kitchen island," reads a text on your phone which you definitely don’t check while you’re driving -

And then it hits you.

"ah."

"yeah, 'ah'," she replies.

-

A quarter past seven at the hotel bar is way too early for any real promiscuous activity, but then again, you're here playing at pretend and half the fun of games like this is in the setup.

Meet me at the bar, your instructions read, introduce yourself, and play it by ear.

There's some couples at the other end, some friends downing shots by the round, people musing over their aperitifs, and a woman sipping alone at the bar - Hyewon, appearing to you from the back first:

The pointed edges of her shoulders narrow out over this tiny cocktail dress that somehow covers less of her than if it weren't there at all, skin tight, accentuating even her softest curves. She has her hair fixed a particular way - teased enough to flip at the ends but still a single sweep down her shoulders, pulled together softly by a ribbon in the back, tied like a fantasy, allowing a wispy strand to fall to her face - glossy and dark and glowing to this rich, deep mahogany where it's cast in the lamplight.

The line of her throat, of her chest. Where her hips meet her waist in a rounding flare. The effort and beauty she's gone to, for you - that she puts in every day just because she knows it gets your attention, can do more than turn a head or two; Hyewon's appearance is almost indifferent of you, only coincidental, but she puts on a damn good act.

(You look a lot more worn in comparison: jacket thrown over dress shirt and khakis, tie loose at the neck. Standard office attire with just a step-outside-regulation. Disheveled.)

A drink, you suppose - approaching the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention to order a single malt.

But if Hyewon's been waiting long, she doesn't complain when you pull into the stool beside her and sit for a long moment.

"Do you mind if I join you?" you say over a pair of politely folded hands - and that's generally where her 'instructions' end.

The look she fixes you with is just this unashamed smoldering, her body language this contradictory kind of lazy - cool, like her night was going exactly the way she planned but she still had places to be.

"It depends," she replies, one slender finger curled around the stem of her martini glass - which historically, is a drink she hates. "Who's asking?"

"Just me," you offer, letting the gesture and your tone leave it up to her. And then slowly, perhaps awkwardly: "ostensibly a complete and utter stranger who knows a gorgeous woman when he sees one - and who could never pass up a chance to see how the rest of her is."

"Smooth."

"I guess it is, considering you didn't immediately run for the exit."

Hyewon nearly snorts.

"Hard not to." She tilts her head back at you, assessing. Her cheeks are rosy pink. "A handsome thing like you doesn't usually buy themself a girl's time with flattery -"

"Buy your time or your drinks?" you tease, and you can tell she wants to roll her eyes - but she keeps them carefully lowered. Eyelashes dipping down like blackened fans.

Hyewon shifts slightly, resting her chin onto the heel of her wrist like she's leaning against an imaginary windowpane and tipping her face a little sideways. It makes you smile. "One gets the other, if you catch my meaning."

Maybe it takes you a little too long to lift your gaze off her lips to find her eyes, or off the sweeping curve of the hemline sitting high across her long legs, but she watches you for just a breath. It's a more telling moment that she pretends she doesn't know you.

"You can look at me if you like," and then without further preamble, she introduces herself with a slight tilt of the head and an expectant expression: "call me Hyewon."

You figure that if you've gotta say one word to get the ball rolling you want to say her name, and as a little revenge for forcing you to think on this scene and think on what to say, what your character would say, how exactly she wanted you to go about 'meeting' her in a hotel bar, how her fucking scenario's been building up in her head for god-knows-how-long (even though, in the scheme of the two of you and your relationship, it’s nowhere close to being the most demanding sex you've had), you reply simply with:

"Pretty."

It's satisfying, how she hesitates - pausing a little longer on your face to gauge exactly what you meant. Studying. But the next beat of your heart - or hers - is effortless, easy.

"I know. That's what my husband calls me."

"Husband?" You keep yourself from raising an eyebrow. "And I don't suppose I'm also... married?"

"Different day, different you."

"Meaning I have a wife or a mistress of my own," and you flick your wrist at the barkeep for a top-up of what's in front of Hyewon. "You're telling me I'm the kind of man who'd only settle for two."

It doesn't sound quite right, though Hyewon picks up on it. Doesn't let on. "Aren't men like you always? Charming to a fault, but always voracious - insatiable, especially with women like me."

"Women like you."

"Married women. Unavailable," she simpers, and in a practiced little motion, draws her hand out to where you can see it properly, this sparkle on her fourth finger that catches the lowlight of the bar. The diamond looks real - not that you'd actually know - and your stomach flexes up mid-somersault thinking about the financial impropriety for what amounts to a gag. A practical joke. Hyewon the comedian.

Still, you go with it and take her hand in yours, admiring. "What a pity." The glint off its faceted surface - Hyewon's watchful as she allows it.

"Isn't it," she agrees.

The more unnerving thing - besides how composed Hyewon can make herself be - is how the narrative quickly becomes a whole hell of a lot clearer with the context of marriage in play. She's mentioned it before: the infidelity thing, the way it leads to the raunchiest, filthiest bits she'll dare to explore. In some ways, her desire for the untouchable makes a lot more sense -

And maybe that's what had been nagging at your mind since she brought up the idea of playing the part: you always end up kissing in that stupid 'caught up' sort of way. With an intensity that's hard to beat. Even though you wouldn't ever cheat on her. Not in a million years. You'd watch her leave before doing anything like that.

But it's thrilling, almost, and even more thrilling that this isn't entirely improvisation: how well the two of you might actually play this off, as two total strangers to this illusory little roleplay that you'd normally say was your very last interest.

"But you know there's something I've come to appreciate about married men," Hyewon continues, her voice in this conspiratorial sort of hushed.

You blink, drawing her out.

"They know how to tie a knot."

There's the flirty wink, an upward flick of the chin that draws your eye to the span of her chest. To her body in that skin-hugging dress and your fingers entangled in hers - the gentle bump and shift of the bodies behind her, moving between the tables - Hyewon a queen of circumstance, playing to the moment as it bends; as her lips part in a pleased smile, red and smooth, almost innocent, and you can't help but imagine tasting her on your tongue, the force that'd take for her to yield when you finally got your hands in her hair.

(What a character, honestly.)

"Tell me something," you say, "why would a married woman, this pretty little thing like you, be all alone in a place like this - without her charming husband."

Hyewon's smile curls at the edges like smoke. "I never said he was charming."

You raise an eyebrow. "Good-looking, then."

"Never said as much either."

“Why are you with someone you find neither attractive nor charming?”

Hyewon makes a face, slightly pitied. “If that Isn’t what I’m asking myself everyday.”

"Hm." You narrow your eyes into something more quizzical than suggestive. It works on her anyway. "That doesn't feel too much like it's in character, Hyewon."

She shrugs, but it's that coy kind of shrug. She thinks you'll let her off easy - you usually do. All considered, she's the type who thrives off the chase and, as of today, so do you.

"But he is cute." Her expression is just this side of sweet, as she takes a dainty sip of her drink. Like the taste doesn’t bother her, like she isn't pretending she doesn't hate it with every fiber of her being. Like this is easy. "And maybe -" she quirks an eyebrow at you, withholding a smirk. "-you're right. Maybe, I was looking for someone cuter to fill the bill. And luck would have it, here he is."

So - apparently - her character doesn’t mind a little light infidelity.

Hyewon takes in the vague sense that the message wasn’t as clear as she might have liked, her forehead scrunching as she tries to convey - in a way that would communicate even to an airhead - some realization to play your part.

"Maybe it's the wrong question,” you start over, taking it from somewhere near the top, “what are you doing here, with me?"

That's when Hyewon graces you with one of the soft, slow kind of smiles: the kind that manages both an air of 'you dimwit' and 'good question'. Her fingertips barely graze yours but it's noticeably electric. Just enough to feel your pulse fluttering.

(You don't care that none of it’s real - Hyewon looks to you through thick eyelashes like a goddess of temptation and sin - and it makes something wicked coil up warm at the pit of your gut. A curious thrill and a recklessness that you have to admit feels a little nice - being the man trying to talk this woman into bed. The challenge and the buildup, the want to work for it. It's new. It's fresh. Lo-and-behold, it's kinda hot.)

When you catch her stare, she fidgets. So slightly, so briefly, your chest is on fire and you're barely into the pages of her plans, of this night ahead.

"Wish fulfillment, let's say," and that is no less true. "See it’s my husband."

"Mhmm."

"He respects me too much to do the things I'm going to ask you to do."

"Like?" you continue to prod.

Hyewon lets out the tiniest shiver of a sigh, like a trickle of cold water down the length of her spine. "Take a good guess."

You finish the rest of Hyewon's martini, slow. Savoring the warmth and bitterness sliding down the back of your throat. The night's young, sure - and if you're supposed to be spending it all wrapped around Hyewon's finger. This means you can take your time.

"Show me your room?" you propose, gesturing to the empty glass.

"I thought you'd never ask."

At your offering, she stands up and throws on her coat - long, double-breasted, chic - but only really just off her shoulders to have the hem hit her legs mid-thigh. One of her many personal quirks. Hyewon knows how to move like there aren't two eyes staring at her wherever she goes: not the awkward side-to-side of a girl who wasn't made to wear heels - a loping gait - nor the assured click, click of the taller kind that totter like it's all they've got going for them.

Something totally different: a little careless and a little haughty and an assurance of the highest confidence.

She winds an arm round yours like they do in movies, this parody of a leading lady - Hyewon not a seductress as much as she is someone who'll look the part just to convince you otherwise. There is a pretty big discrepancy, you find, between her bravado and her smile, her figure and her artistry - you couldn't act if you wanted to; meanwhile, she does whatever she damn well pleases. And somehow that doesn't even begin to cover the things that turn her on.

The two of you make for the stairs, winding up floor after floor until it's perfectly quiet, perfectly out of sight - hidden away from prying eyes and ears.

The silence of an empty hotel stairwell is thick - Hyewon's hand comes off the railing, as she takes to the wall and turns to face you. It's a gentle tug at the tie loose around your neck, barely any give before you're already there, holding her by the hips.

"Might've gotten us lost there," you whisper, as her finger plays at your chest and finds its way round the collar of your shirt. Your top button is already undone by the time you notice she's not fond of it. "The elevators would've gotten us where we're headed faster."

"Don't worry." She hums, leaning in close - like a magnet, like gravity. "You're getting the scenic route."

"Anything to stall the inevitable," you tease, but it isn't a thread she seems interested in developing.

"Something like that."

Hyewon shifts her weight back onto her right foot, her skirt riding up just barely. The dip between her inner thighs and the smooth curve of her leg is open and bare to your sight, her dark stockings like an unspoken challenge: the panties, lacy, loose, no crotch.

And it gets... indecent, the way your lips connect, how you realize half-way into that kiss, she's still smiling. It isn't any one way that does it; maybe it's the clever use of her tongue, or that particular position you've coaxed her up against the stairwell wall that makes it seem like Hyewon can't be any more in danger - it's too much to handle and your mouth goes slack on the reflex of an apology; her hand has a hold on you by the jaw and it won't budge.

"My husband," she murmurs into you, the trace of the words ghosting into the breath between the both of you. "Never lets me."

"What," you rasp, barely recognizing your own voice, your hand heavy on her side - the very real fear that you might tip over a banister because Hyewon's got her heel half-way into the back of your calf and any less bracing would bring you down. Your thoughts are a fog, with her cheek in one hand and your knee already up between her thighs.

"His wife," she almost swallows down, kisses turning chaste because maybe it's just easier to gently peck out her intentions, how she looks to you with dark eyes, heavy-lidded and wanting, a thumb trailing down the plane of your cheek. It'd feel like pity if you weren't thinking exactly the same.

You try to finish it for her:

"She likes it rough."

"No." Her nose traces yours before she connects you again - gentle and slow, and a shudder rolls all down the expanse of her shoulders; you think you have it about right. Until she makes the slightest adjustment and her grip in your hair turns agonizing, perfect and burning on the edge of too tight - too much. You are straining against the wall of a hotel hallway and she's saying, "not rough."

She kisses you. Hard. Until you gasp for the stolen air in her lungs.

"Filthy," she manages against the heat and sting at the side of her cheek.

(Damn.)

Your voice has gone and lodged itself firmly somewhere between her lungs - but there's something that says she knows. That you've got it in you, the brimming potential that might just say everything you ever wanted but couldn't figure the right way to put it.

It's the tone of her voice or the spark in her eyes, but one moment into the next - you're caught in this pull - like gravity's increasing tenfold at her will; her heartbeat's so strong you swear you feel it against your ribs as she's demanding:

"Messy. Dirty. A little uninhibited," and the obvious thrill of that must flare up like lightning under her skin - the way it makes her moan, soft and breathless: "fuck me like my husband doesn't."

She’s not even waiting for the comfort of the room yet, which in hindsight is probably checking more of Hyewon's many boxes - it's the sex in public thing, the fear of discovery thing, the desire to have you ravish her out where anyone can come upon you sort of thing - the thought of which has your jaw go a little slack too. Her leg up is coiled up around your hip, your fingers tangled in her hair and sliding up the length of her thigh, until you're fucking kneading up her ass and drawing out that desperate whine in her.

"Fuck," she exhales into your shoulder - a hand on the metal bannister to brace against those little circles you start to rub inside her, pushing - slowly - one, two, three knuckles deep, testing - before drawing back, and plunging forward again. This ache, slow and purposeful, pressing just enough into her until there's a wet sort of friction that has your hand slick all down your wrist.

It never takes long, with your fingers on her clit, fingers inside her, a palm covering the moans out of her mouth -

She cums just like that.

Whining and broken and bent under you, and with an elbow hard against her ribcage to make the breaths come shallow.

"Stay quiet for me, sweetheart," you find yourself murmuring, as your teeth graze the shell of her ear - the short burst of hair and silky strands across the back of her neck; you're undoing the neat ribbon tied round the length of her hair and letting her waves settle on her shoulder in time for you to swallow down the sound of her sighs, the tension in her lips, and the frantic jolt when your fingers push through the wet, heat of her pussy again, merciless and quick. You have to be careful; she nearly bites your fucking tongue out.

"Can't." Her jaw's tight on it, the slight staccato to her breathing, murmuring and slightly dazed: "if we get caught, someone will see. Someone will notice."

Her next exhale is more shaky. "Anyone could see us like this," with just her toes curling and her stomach tensing on every second beat. Your grip leaves a bruise. "Please-"

"We're not supposed to be doing this at all, are we? If you've got a husband waiting somewhere?"

You hear yourself, and it sounds sorta degenerate, though in all the right ways, you figure, like something straight out of one of Hyewon's romance novels, the dirty, smutty ones that she swears up and down she simply reads for the plot, but the dazed, hazy kind of mood they get her worked up into suggest otherwise.

You trace the rough pad of your thumb over her pussy, this delicate, ghost of a touch. One you'd have to strain to even tell if it was there or not until she whines - eyes screwed shut like she doesn't mean to, just does. The sound of it bouncing around the stairwell.

And then, all this wet: her skirt's ridden all the way up to her stomach, damp and near-transparent with slick, and you can just imagine the puffy pink between her legs - between her stockings in the afterglow of an orgasm, spent and sensitive and sore and wanting for more. Your eyes linger a little too long -

"I shouldn't let you," she manages, half a moan on it - one of her heels comes up the stair you're standing on and the way Hyewon clings onto you for balance says enough, but still, she demands, with all the strength her throat allows: "make it fast. You're lucky I let you see me like this at all -"

And she cuts off abruptly, looking at you.

(She'll play coy for a while longer. Which, Hyewon being Hyewon, will look like as much an effort as her sprawl out on the bed for you is.)

"The room," you say to her, harshly, "where is it."

"Four more floors."

-

Room 1014 as it turns out is like every other room you've ever been in, each one perhaps a little more identical than the last - except this one has Hyewon sitting in your lap while you get comfortable on the bed, and there's also the way she looks in the mirror above the headboard, the desperation in her stare, right back into the reflection.

"What all," she says, "do you want to do to me?"

This time - no explicit instructions - just an implication. You have to figure it out.

See, the image of her is like every fantasy rolled into one, wearing this thin black bra that has her breasts just about spilling over. They're amazing - the color and shape of her skin. Soft. Cradled between the cups like a godsend, and maybe that's why it drives her a little crazy how good you look biting down the ridge of her breast and flicking your eyes back up to catch her expression.

It has you feeling, if nothing else, a little ‘adventurous,’ too.

Her belly tenses on a heavy sigh and it's one hell of a thing to have Hyewon staring you down, like you're an animal or an idiot, with her eyes flashing and a thinly veiled anger in the purse of her lips. There's a thousand things she'd like to do to you - for you to do to her - but it's about the predicament: the silk necktie she'd pulled off you as you both stumbled through the door has ended up around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back in a way that suggests a loss of control. Just the mere suggestion of a little playacting, but she's almost keening.

You feel the touch of her right calf keep rising - curving down your waist, hooked behind the small of your back - her thighs smooth, and a hot line along your sides.

"I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours," you say against the shell of her ear, because you know better than anyone, the very concept gets her wet. Uncomfortably so.

And she leans her head against your temple like she'd love it. You could be imagining the little whimper as she clenches up round nothing - until a growl escapes the back of her throat and she's saying -

"Is that how you're going to cum? With me on my knees and nothing else? Cover my pretty face? How you’ll completely ruin me?. You’re more creative than that."

“I don’t know that I am.”

Her hips move to find some friction where there isn't any until you give her some, pulling your cock out through your pants and feeling it brush, once, twice against the seam of her. Hot, and hard. Ready. And if she only tried a little, the angle was made perfectly to slot your head in, but neither of you move. She doesn't yield.

"Let me fuck myself on you," she suggests, strained, almost pleading. "Then perhaps I will."

You could take her like she is. Any which way. But this is about getting a particular reaction - one that'll leave her spent and trembling - and nothing like that will happen without a little bit of preparation and prelude. You want to watch her writhe for hours. Until she forgets she's playing a character at all, until she's panting your name and whimpering for release, her cheeks burning.

But at least it gets her writhing on you, the heat and press of her body as she leans in close, your eyes locking:

"Get your cock inside me-" the urgency in her voice. "-fuck me right now, this second-"

"Say it again."

"Fill me with your perfect cock." The words land right on your lips, frayed at the edges as the tether to her control slips another notch. "Push my thighs apart until you break me," Hyewon tells you - and then with her legs twisted up in the comforter, the creaking mattress and the sweat on the sheets: she rolls her hips like they're pleading for it.

"Pushy."

"Gentle's got no appeal for us."

"Apparently not," you reply - but then it's suddenly a lot easier, to slide one hand in Hyewon's hair, and grip at the knotted silk wrapped tight 'round her wrists to hold her. There's no hiding the subtle arching of her spine, how the pressure off her arms pulls her chest in or makes it all the more comfortable, she doesn't let on, she'll probably keep pretending she doesn't like this, that she hasn't always wanted -

You run your tongue over her collarbone and thrust up inside her, once - a warning that you're not giving in to her quite yet.

The smile that runs her lips is brittle. Like her patience isn't what it used to be - she makes a quiet little noise, pained. A flash of discomfort. But there's a moan and a curse out of her:

"Like that. Harder."

"What does harder mean?" you ask, with a deliberate repetition in motion, thrusting upward, forcing her hips to shift a few degrees further back - her knees clenching around the sheets as you're met with no give - Hyewon's resistance through a dark smile, and her grip slackened in her hands, despite you keeping a fist wound tight in the hair on the back of her head, tightening the other around her restraint.

Her throat flinches: this shudder.

She takes a couple heaving, open-mouthed breaths, before she has it in her to glare at you again.

"Harder-" The way her mouth shapes around the word gets the better of you - cute little cupid's bow in pink, full and swollen and pursed up as if in pain. Or desire. Or both, the way her head is tipped back, hair half undone - an idea is already coiling at the back of your mind. "-until I can't stand."

"Or talk?"

And when your hand loosens on her wrists, her posture slumps like it's relief, that you're finally going to move along in a direction she's getting some satisfaction from -

Hyewon shakes her head in a moment that's almost blissed.

"You," her voice breaks on the tail end, "fucking wish you could shut me up that easily -"

In a motion almost gentle, you twist the length of hair down around her, from her scalp to her jaw, and wrap it around a hand. "Let's see if you'll change your mind, shall we."

There's a sharp draw of air in past her lips, just one sound, not a word. No proper rebuttal. She bites down, teeth clicking.

So you pull.

And this isn't some revelation, that Hyewon's cunt is heaven. Slick and tight, the fit around your cock and the gasp escaping the base of her throat - that isn't new. You've been here countless times, fucked her past her breaking point, beyond what should reasonably satisfy her or satisfy you, but that still doesn't take away from this incredible, heady rush that pulses through your entire body. It never stops getting better, not inch-after-fucking-inch the way you're bottoming out inside Hyewon's body and feel how hard the rest of her muscles tense up in the contact, how her pussy tightens and quivers, and grips around the entirety of your cock, the briefest taste of pleasure and release before it's pulled back just out of her reach - overstimulated, until Hyewon cries out.

You expect, predict the fight, the whimpers that spill out of her mouth with every slap of your skin and the breathless way she begs, pleads, like she'd rather her pride take it from her than have your fingers tug her hair up, right out of her scalp, with your arm locked around her lower waist. With your cock pumping faster, faster and a pressure, hot and inescapable, right there - the friction building - the slippery-wet heat sliding along your shaft with every stroke until you bottom out and her next exhale is a sob.

A goddamn fucking sob and the warm gush of liquid down her thighs - all on you. You fingers are pressed into her ass, pulling onto you, steading her bounce - and Hyewon finds her breathing uneven, as you smear wet across the curve of her backside, rubbing circles into her lower back as you catch up on the rhythm she'd lost.

"This tight little cunt, huh," you tease, and she nods so desperately it seems like she might snap. Like she might cry again and this time for real, a drop of her eye color past the blush, streaking down her cheek. You have the wherewithal to remember your character, your blocking, your lines: "this is what your husband won't do? Won't fuck you on every piece of furniture until you're a ruined fucked-out mess? Doesn't have the decency to work over his little slutty-wife until she's passed out, dripping with cum?"

Hyewon's fingers curl up into two balls of white knuckles and she chokes on her reply. "He won't."

"Tell him. He has a hot and dirty little piece of ass right under his own roof-"

"You think," and the string of words trails off when you manage to grind in, at this angle that has her reeling, trembling at every shift and jerk in momentum. Your knuckles drag against her soft and giving curves, almost gripping at her in the attempt to hold her down on you. "-my husband isn't enough."

"Well you wanted me to fuck the domestic housewife out of you," you murmur, taking two greedy handfuls of the ass bouncing in your lap, rubbing your palms along her hips, up and around the shape of her abdomen and her ribcage like you'd map it, memorize it. She wants this, you know this: your palms come around and over and brush your thumbs against her rising gooseflesh - she's putty in your hands. "No strings attached, remember, a one night kind of thing-"

"My husband loves me."

"Then it seems-"

"He makes me cum with his hands alone."

Your jaw works tight - Hyewon's cunt feels as good wrapped around you as she says your cock feels making a mess of it.

"Tells me he'd die happy hearing me moan his name."

"Oh, because no matter where he goes," you say, fingers wrapping under and around the back of her neck, forcing her to look you in the eye, "no matter what, your sweet cunt's the only one his mouth is ever watering for, isn't that right-"

A blink, lashes thick and feathering down and over the pools of her pupils as you have a hold of her tight. 

You're having a hard time with this, and you want to give it to her, the toe-curling-crescendo that would see her cumming at your will, or worse, losing the plot completely and your entire setup falling away from the charade of characters you'd both conjured. But she looks at you like she's never loved anyone like she loves you, the naked, barefaced devotion, the tenderness - a quick breath, a second - and the game is suddenly something far more personal, a truth. It isn't exactly fair: how your heart stutters. How much her heartbeat makes your pulse flutter, the electrifying rush you get when you fuck roughly up into her tight, wet cunt and make her bite down on nothing in the throes another orgasm.

You barely have a second to think of something coherent, let alone an out before she kisses you. If that isn’t totally disarming. So you move her into the next, flipping her onto her stomach, and she does nothing to fight back: Hyewon just lies there - the side of her face plastered to the comforter - exhausted, and gives a willing, malleable moan at the contact where your hand digs into the shape of her upper thighs, spreading them out as her elbows struggle behind her back.

"Here, baby," you say, finally unwinding the silk knot between her wrists, "I'll have you like the little desperate fucktoy you really are."

There's the bite to her bottom lip, the whole five seconds it takes for her hands to spread out and twist her fingers tight in the bedspread, before she whines - full-throated - and rocks back onto her toes to arch her back.

(See, the thing: Hyewon likes being fucked within an inch of her life. On all fours and pleading for more.)

With your free hand, you reach around her to run over her inner thighs.

Hyewon brings her grip to the bottom of the bed frame, for purchase, or leverage, you don't know, and in one simple motion, you slip your cock back deep inside her pussy.

You curse under your breath.

Hyewon fucking collapses.

It's a dangerous combination, having her begging and you nearly fully clothed while she's wearing barely more than this thin strip of black silk around her waist and a stocking on one leg, but you can't help it - she looks good this way.

"Fuck," she spits out, voice lost when your hips find hers in this wet, sloppy crash of skin that gets louder, faster and more punishing on each beat. "Like that, oh my God-"

Her whimpering only gets worse - when you start only pulling out halfway, until she's gasping like she can't breathe. You think there isn't a more wonderful, more obscene, more gorgeous thing than Hyewon spread out in front of you - the curve of her spine defining each and every one of the lines, dips, and rises of her body - and you would thank God or some higher deity right about now.

It’s fuck and please and every other little pliant utterance of “fuck my brains out, use me, make me beg, I'm so turned on right now I'll let you fuck me anyway you want - harder, faster, I can do whatever, just show me how, make me, push and fuck me hard until I'm raw and aching - god - like this, let me cum, please, let me - keep fucking going, oh my god, please, like this, fuck, just like this-"

You do thank God, actually - there's mirrors everywhere in this room, and you can catch the circular swing of her tits every time you force a curse and a sigh out of her: the bared teeth and the effort to push herself back on her arms, bracing for every thrust, fighting and fumbling to keep her balance and to make sure you have to pound her into the mattress until her cries reach a pitch.

Then, the thing you'd learned she'd never ask for but oh-so-dearly-wanted - you open your palm and bring it down hard on her backside. The impact of your flesh to hers, a crack, a moan and her whole body flexes - and it's then you do it again: matching the hit to the visible red outline of your handprint. The third time, she hisses, biting into the bed sheets so as not to cry out.

"Right? This is what you want? To be fucked and used?"

She doesn't reply with words, because she may in fact be biting her teeth into the cotton threadcount at the end of the bed, but she lifts her ass higher, angles her hips like she's waiting for more. Her brow is creased in a smile, even though a frustrated groan escapes her lips - so you give her that again, and again, until the back of her thighs are turning red and she's clawing one hand back along the length of your legs - pushing and pulling.

"You want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart?"

And then, so needy and desperate she's just saying the first word that come to mind:

"More-"

"-when I've been railing into you so hard and your husband probably knows already, has to have seen, maybe he's listening at the door- oh," and your whole train of thought comes to a sudden halt upon seeing Hyewon's hand land on the perfect round of her ass, fingers pulling her soft, reddening skin taut, up and away from where your cock is disappearing between her cheeks - to allow more of your shaft into her hot, wet cunt - allow you to fuck her and fuck her up - allow the length of your shaft to slide deeper and hit all the spots that will send her reeling into this orgasm and the next.

Your gaze is stuck however, not to her curves rippling in excess, the damage of your thrusts pounding her body to ruin, or the look of flawless pleasure twisting up the pretty features of Hyewon's reflection, but instead it's the fucking flash and catch of the diamond that adorns her fourth finger. Even when you have her completely helpless, bent on your mercy, she's still wearing that promise, that intention to have and to hold, and you think, for at least a second, this whole roleplay thing isn't the worst idea: being a surrogate to fulfill someone's wildest fantasies. It might even be enough to make you hard all over again - the thrill and the debasement of your girl, lines quickly blurring between the Hyewon you'll take home and put back together and the Hyewon you're fucking pouding into a mattress - the here and now.

"Fuck, Hyewon," you find yourself swearing - steadying the hips rolling back in your palms, bending down until the flat of your chest meets her back, until your nose is in her hair, the long strands sticking to her lips and the back of her ears. Until you feel her shaking as you suckle against her skin, at her neck, hot kisses between the shoulder blades, finding a grip in her hands. Her grip in yours - as she's muffling these exquisite, needy sounds; she is perfect. Hyewon is perfect.

The first time you cum, it's this hot splatter of white: smeared across her ass and the crease of her lower back. It feels almost dirty to think that's just how you feel about it; your heart is stuttering in its erratic pace, but your eyes are drawn and enraptured, the sight of it all.

Then second, maybe your favorite: when she slips her hand to your aching shaft and simply takes you back inside her. This soft, wet, inviting heat that pulls you back to her.

"God- please," her head tips back, you feel the arch of her back through her ribs and stomach, the way her breath catches as you slide your cock through her creamed-out-cunt so much harder and smoother. "It feels so fucking good, baby," and there are tears now, welling in the corner of her eyes, "don't stop, God don't ever stop-"

She can barely finish her sentence before she's cut off, a moan ripped from the bottom of her lungs and a gasp straight from the pain-pleasure that has your balls slapping against her pussy every other stroke. And suddenly she's sitting, or rather, squirming into your arms, her face buried in your shoulders as she starts riding you, and not-quite crying and saying again - again, the whole filthy lot of things: about her wanting you to fill her, to plug her up with your cock. Every thrust she whines in your ears, clutching onto the fabric of your shirt and making a mess of herself in you.

It's this wild and reckless thing that makes its way around the room, on every surface and bit of furniture. You fuck her over the counter, let her ride you on the sofa, the chair, the two of you managing to find some sort of assistance in the wall even, the door frame, her legs up your sides and the slippery-sticky-heat of your mouths connecting and everything that isn't exactly meant to support that kind of strain buckling and nearly giving way - once when the wooden joints in the door-frame shift, once when she begs for release in that frantic voice that doesn't sound a thing like her. And the way she comes apart under you after, on top of you - is even sweeter; you imagine there's this endless possibility for love, for pleasure, a whole world in bundled in the notion that you could do it for her again, that it was always a question of Hyewon letting you have her that way, and the rest was mere foreplay - a stretch.

Only, on the bed again, Hyewon shivers beneath you, this full-body response, and you've got her stretched as she opens up - that the slightest of movements has her already whimpering out "fuck," and "please," and "right there," and "fuck you're going to make me come like this. You're so good, just fucking," and "more, harder, please, you feel so fucking good-"

The desperation for release is so palpable in her that it's curling into your stomach as your press Hyewon's knees into the points and edges of her shoulders and fold in her half - this perfect angle of leverage. Fucking her like she's yours and no one else's - the absolute delight of her cunt, wet, hot, and desperate to milk you empty - her body quaking at the force of each thrust, and the hungry grind of your hips into hers. Her fingers digging and knotting in the sheets around you until her knuckles pale, and your own grasp on her skin threatens to bruise.

"Inside me," she gasps out, because she can feel that edge just as well as you, "I want you to fill me, just cum inside, God, you always feel so amazing, fuck, like that, cum inside me, cum in me-"

"How could I say no, especially when you ask so sweetly," you tell her, kissing into her smile, "can you take another? Baby, look at me, look into my eyes, yeah? Look right back at me."

Her eyes blink and roll back a bit, almost losing focus and her eyelashes flutter - the creases in her brow, the elegant lines of her face locking up in the overwhelming tension, then, a peak.

And a demand, meekly asking you to fill her up. Until there's nothing left. "Cum," Hyewon moans, "for the love of fuck-"

You push her past her climax until she's practically weeping, sobbing through a litany of nonsense and slurred, unfinished sentences and almost howls, struggling beneath your weight and coaxing her fingers over the surge at the base of your spine. Before a hot liquid mess bursts out of you, into the deepest reach of Hyewon's throbbing cunt - cumming inside her, while you hold her down, not allowing her to move as your hips lock and you're both left groaning in utter agony.

(This was the thing you'd told her once - cumming inside her was almost always worth the effort it took to clean it all back out. You like the possessive aspect of it, maybe the slight humiliation, and more than anything, she'll just melt: once she's gone past the immediate discomfort. If anyone could really learn to get off on feeling a little filthy, it's the two of you. And she knows that too, Hyewon's eager little pout intimates, as she blinks down to watch where the two of you connect.)

You don't say much for the next while. If there's a line where this particular escapade blends back into your normal life, where the Hyewon curled up in the sheets is your own girl and not some half-conceived entity that didn't fit the reality of the rest of the evening, or how you see Hyewon everyday, even then, it’s not clear.

She's utterly boneless - this fragile, dazed thing that runs her palms all the way around her breasts and pulls up her stockings a little further up the line of her hips, as if you weren't going to peel them back and slip them all the way off when you had the wherewithal to handle it. But the strength in her isn't entirely lost either, she looks ready to burst: this air of pride and smugness - victory, right in her grin, which isn't totally surprising. Hyewon usually gets an odd satisfaction out of your participation in whatever hedonistic or obscene thing it is she wants to try.

This was her fantasy - maybe not a deeply rooted or unattainable one, but she'd worked out some kinks of hers and has walked away a far better woman for it, knowing what a sight she is to you. Like this.

"That was... fun," Hyewon eventually says, collecting articles of clothing strewn about the room.

Her shoes are one of two sets in the shoe-rack, but she'll have to look around and under the bed to find her dress. It would probably be some strange level of easy to play dumb and wait until she comes to the conclusion on her own that she should bend down and check down there, but she looks a little too worn out to really be interested in her clothes, more like, ready for the next part.

"We should do it again," her gaze lands, intent, and serious, back to you.

"Which part?" you have to ask, because you're probably still, a little slow on the uptake.

A small laugh, the sly smirk to herself; she knows she has you wrapped so perfectly around her finger, ready to bend to whatever game she can come up with: "whichever part you like."

[enviedear]

jackie and wilson — billy bonney

⤷ modern!billy au

tw— somehow this is 4.6k words. mentions of food and eating, talk of religion and bible verses, (i'm southern and was forced to go to church every sunday it reflects in the writing) smutty themes so, minors dni, 18+ only, kissing, fondling, skinny dipping, (they're in their undies) so horrifically fluffy

i can already tell this is going to become an ongoing series, so be sure to comment and lmk if you want more. also, this is influenced by my daily mantra

request

the summer heat feels like it's baking you as you traverse through the long grass of your farmland. birds call and screech in the trees lining the woods beside you. if you weren't so scared of walking the shortcut in the woods alone, your risk of sun poisoning may seem less apparent.

you grip the wicker basket in your hands tighter, eyes squinting to look for the lean farmhand-for-hire. in years past, you've been keen to take his place whenever your grandparents needed someone for an oddball job. working long hours with the older couple up until you graduated from the county high school. as the seasons changed, and you got older and busier, so did your grandparents. their work on their farm proved in dire need of help.

a simple fix—you. this summer, free from university and your internship, your parents elected you to spend the free time of your summer working on your loving grandparents' farm.

in the early days of the warm season, you managed pretty well on your own. you tended the vegetables and the fruits, took care of the chickens and sheep, and sowed the large fields with grain until sunset.

everything changed after an unfortunate incident with your grandpa's gargantuan baler. luckily, you were fine, but your pa's expensive baler was wrecked all to hell.

so here you were, now relegated to some pseudo farmer's daughter role, hand-delivering water and a full lunch to none other than billy bonney.

your grandparents say billy's nice enough, mannerly yet hushed. but you know there's more to it. at least if small town gossip is anything to believe, and here, it usually is.

everyone knows the crowd billy runs around with. he's also got a vile gang of friends. angry men with sly smirks who spend most of their free time loitering the town's local bar or gambling away their lives at lawrence murphy's corral. the type of men to carry a weapon at all times without any license, and quick to threaten to shoot with even the most minor infraction.

the knowledge was enough to have you hiding away from him every time your grandparents hired him for a job.

everytime that is, until now.

you knew with the way your pa sternly stared into your eyes that a complaint wouldn't be warranted. as your grandma instructed you to bring the farmhand some, "hearty lunch for his hard work," you came to terms with the fact that you had no right to argue.

not when you owe the old man a baler.

you finally reach the young man, covered in grime and leaning against his parked pickup, out of breath and sweltering. you try not to stare at the baler attached to the tractor, about twenty feet from his parked vehicle, your embarrassment over wrecking the last one still ever present.

his truck has its' doors wide open, blaring music through blown speakers. you try to avoid making direct eye contact with him, voice raised slightly to be heard over the folk song playing, "here. figure you're hungry."

lifting the tea towel from the top of the basket, you set it on his open truck bed. despite not looking up, you can see him hurry to turn his music down before sauntering over to you from the side of your gaze.

"thank you," his voice surprises you. it's gruff but gentle. "you kin to the old couple?"

you're not sure why, but you take offense to his question. sure you've ignored him, but you know that he knows who you are. you meet his stare, your tone dry in response, "i am."

he inclines his head toward the basket, ignoring your reply with a hum, "what'd ya' bring me, hon?"

your eyes roll unabashed at his endearment, "my grandma threw a bit of everything in there. i know there's some jambalaya— the last bit of our mud cake too."

"you're spoiling me, you tell her i said thank you," he pauses, peering down at you, "are you going to be bringin' me my lunch everyday?"

his question is innocuous but something in the way he says it makes your stomach drop. you shrug, "sure, i guess."

"i'd like that." he slips the words out before his hands dive into the basket, fishing out one of the water bottles.

you nod, confused by him, "yeah well, be careful. i guess i'll see you tomorrow."

at that you turn from him, walking your trail again to get back to the house. you fight the urge to look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of him. some proof he's really there, that the interaction actually happened.

because despite the second-hand opinion you've held on him, billy bonney was unexpected. annoyingly so.

as you finish up your day, you can't help but think about the encounter with the dark-haired farmhand. you've known of him for years, sure, but you never expected much of him.

just another one of jesse evans’ rowdy boys.

shocking, that billy would be so different. or maybe, just better at hiding his depravity. you think back to his voice, rough around the edges, yet littered with tenderness. it’s not until you think back to his gentle smile that you realize, there’s a kindness that exudes from him, and it’s got you hook, line, and sinker.

you wonder if he's always been this way? you like to think he has. even if it is only a platitude for your undeniable crush.

in the following days, you continue to bring the farmhand his lunch, stopping to talk to him longer each noon. he's easy to talk to, apt to ask you about your day, or if you need anything. you can't exactly explain why, but you're drawn to him.

it's extra muggy as you pack up his lunch and make your way to him, breaking from his time on the baler to lay in the bed of his truck.

he doesn't take notice of you until your basket finds home right beside him, blasted speakers blaring yet another folk tune.

"hey there," he greets you with a grin, his white work shirt wrought with soil, the short sleeves haphazardly rolled, "you know i'm starting t'get used to this."

you smile back, feeling a warm sensation spreading through your body, "i'm sure you are."

billy takes a look in the lunch basket, grabbing out some water first to clear the dirt on his hands, "you wanna hang around for a bit?"

you hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should. not only do you have a long list of chores, you also still find a bit of nervousness around the young man.

but billy's been nice enough, and if he's anything like his friends you assume he would have shown it by now, "i guess i have some time."

billy nods, handing you a water and patting the free space beside him. you hop up, close enough that his side brushes yours.

the sensation sends shivers down your spine as you try to focus on conversation, pulling for anything you can say. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the only sound is coming from the music blasting from his speakers. an old rock song today, different. your eyes try to look anywhere but at him, taking in the vast expanse of farmland around you.

"must be nice to have all this land to yourself," billy says, breaking the silence.

you nod, grateful for his compliment, "it is. my grandparents have worked hard to keep it running."

"i can tell," billy says, taking a swig from his water bottle, "they got a good thing goin' here."

you agree, taking a sip from your own bottle. the sun beats down on your skin, making you feel sweaty and sticky. billy, on the other hand, seems used to it. he looks up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight.

"you know, i was thinking," billy says, steady voice breaking the silence again, "what would you say if i took you out sometime?"

your heart skips a beat, your mind going into overdrive. you never expected billy to ask you out, even more so that you’d be so willing to entertain the idea.

you hesitate for a moment before answering, "i don't know. i mean, i barely know you."

this is a half truth, you know him. only this version though, the sweet billy bonney who works on your family farm and takes his lunch breaks with you. you don't have any idea who he is outside of these moments.

at least not first hand. just second hand gossip. you wouldn’t even know which stories are real or fake. you’re not sure if he’s a convincing actor or genuine soul. there are rumors he shot a man back in his hometown. that he launders money with jesse evans’ gang. that he’s a cheat from a rodeo front, taking ignorant peoples’ bet money.

billy hums, breaking your anxious thoughts, "what'd you wanna know, hon? i'm an open book."

you chew on your lip, thinking about it. it could be a smart move, you're curious about him and need to know more. you need to know what about him is fact or fiction. but at the same time, you're afraid of what the truth may be, "i don't know," you say finally. "i mean, work, for example. is this all you do?"

billy cracks a smile, "no, hon’. this s’more of a side job.” he sighs, “i was a pickup for jesse evans' rodeo for a while, but that new fella' that just came to town—mr. tunstill, he's got me a better gig."

you furrow your brows, already on edge by the mention of his previous employer, "and what exactly is that?"

he chuckles a bit, "he's got me as a producer, but i do show on the weekends."

"so what? you're a full-fledged rodeo man? with bulls and all?" you'd always know of jesse's grimy ‘rodeo’, really just used as a gambling den and club, but you're intrigued by the idea of billy actually doing it. especially working with tunstill, a sincerely kind wealthy man from overseas. it must be a stark contrast to jesse’s.

"i guess. it's a good time and you can make honest money dependin' on the event," he pauses, "it's not like jesse's, if that's what you're wondering."

you look away from him, "my pa never let me go. when i turned twenty-one i tried to go with a bunch of my girlfriends. he about had a stroke keeping me out the door."

"he's smart, you shouldn't go. those guys are bad news." he's talking quieter now, less sugary and more solemn.

you fight your previous embarrassment, opting to stare straight into his pale blues, "you hang around those guys."

your sentiment is clear and billy goes hush for a long few seconds before speaking, eyes closed, "do not carouse with drunkards or feast with gluttons, for they are on their way to poverty, and too much sleep clothes them in rags."

you know those words, heard primarily while crammed in a pew, "you're a religious man?" you don't mean to, but your question comes out a bit unconvinced.

he opens his eyes back up, a spark of something you can't place within them, "no, not really. jus' something mr. tunstill keeps repeating to me. i didn't really pay it any mind till i met you."

you try to ignore the way his hand inches closer to your own, "why's that?"

"not sure. just seems easier to abide by now. i'd hate to end up like them. i know you don't like 'em." his voice is soft, but the hand that takes hold of yours isn't.

you look down at your feebly interlocked hands, hesitating, and then taking his hand with the same conviction, "no, i don't," a breath, "but i like you."

billy's face lights up at your words, and he leans in closer to you. you can feel his breath on your face, and your heart races with excitement and anticipation. you’ve never felt to entrapped in a man before, so ready to dive in head first.

without thinking, you reach out to touch his sun kissed cheek, and he leans into your hand. your fingers trace a path down his cheek, and then down to his lips. you have an overwhelming urge to kiss him, and you're surprised when he pulls back.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that." you say, feeling embarrassed.

"no, it's not that. it's just… i want to take you out on a real date. something proper." his cheeks have grown far more pink, only this time it's not the sun's doing.

you consider his words for a moment, before nodding, "that sounds real nice, billy."

he grins, and you feel a flutter in your chest. how he managed to make you feel this way so soon, you're not sure.

"you free this friday?" he asks, amusement in his tone.

you release his hand, grabbing for your phone, "should be, my boss loves me," a stupid joke, but you hand the touchscreen to him, "put your number in, so we can plan a time."

you climb down from the bed of the truck, peering up at the farmhand as he adds his number to your phone. when he's done he hands you back the phone, the sun casting an auburn glow to his hair.

you look up at him, and he smiles down at you, "don't be a stranger." he jokes.

you give him a laugh, "wouldn’t dream of it," you add, "i'll see you friday— i'm going into town with my grandma tomorrow. i'm sure it'll last all day."

billy hums, "till' friday, honey."

you turn and head back to the house, smiling to yourself, feeling happy and alive in a way that you haven't felt in a long time.

the next day, thursday, you wake up early to accompany your grandma into town. the older woman drags you up and down shopping centre's, moaning on and on about how cheaply things are made now.

you make it through the first ten stores without your smile cracking, you think it must be a finely tuned talent.

it's not until well after lunch the woman decides to slow down, stopping at a local diner to eat. she does most of the talking, gossiping about everyone she's run into today.

you love your grandma and you enjoy your time with her, but you're too focused on tomorrow to really be good company.

if she notices your change in behavior though, she doesn't comment. highly unlike her.

by the time the sky is more dark than light, you two head home. she plays old country music the whole ride, teeny-bopper songs that remind you how young she used to be.

and when you finally lay your head down to rest, you don't try to fight off the supercut in your mind of your sweet farmhand.

the next day, fateful friday, arrives with a mix of nerves and excitement. you find yourself checking the clock more often than usual, the anticipation building as the day progresses. your mind drifts to the possible plans for the evening, wondering where billy might take you on this 'proper date.'

a bit after the sun hits noon, you finish up your chores on the farm, your thoughts consumed by your impending evening. you decide to freshen up and put on something nice, an easy way to get your mind together.

your closet here is less thorough than the one at home, but the innocent tops and bottoms of your late teens still fit. you look less severe than you'd normally for a date. forgone are the dark, tight, and sultry clothes of your college town, leaving you looking ever so sweet.

the early afternoon arrives, and you hear the distant rumble of his pickup as it approaches. you feel alight with a muddled mess of nerves as you make your way out of the house to meet him.

you look over your shoulder when you crack the door open. making sure you haven't awoken your sleeping grandparents, who rarely miss their three o'clock naps.

the summer sun is high in the sky, casting a bright glow over the landscape. billy's leaned up against his truck, staring expectantly at your front porch— staring at you, you realize.

as you walk to him, you can't help but notice the effort he put into dressing up. his filthy work shirt is replaced with a clean, green linen button-down, and there's a hint of ambery cologne in the air. he offers you a genuine smile, eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance.

"hey there, beautiful." he greets you, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder blade, comforting.

"hi," you reply, returning his saccharine smile. "you clean up nice."

he chuckles, a bit bashful, "well, i figured it's a special occasion."

you let him lead you to the passenger side, where he opens the rusty pickup's door for you, you fight back your grin when he follows in after.

as you drive into town, the atmosphere is a blend of excitement and a tinge of nervousness. billy takes you to a quaint little restaurant a bit outside of town. it's casual but with dim lights and a cozy ambiance. certainly it's the most romantic restaurant around without heading an hour out into the city. the two of you share stories and laughs, finding little to no lull in conversation.

"you want any dessert?" you ask, fiddling a loose thread at the hem of your blouse.

billy shrugs, "i've never said no to some banana puddin'. what'd you say?"

you giggle, nodding in agreement. you feel high off of his company. you're giddy and doing a horrible job at hiding it, but he doesn't seem to mind. instead, he relegates to matching your optimism, only validating every enamored thought of him that rings in your mind.

the warm evening air swirls around you as the two of you exit the restaurant. billy offers his hand, and you gladly intertwine your fingers as you stroll down the sidewalk. the town square is alive with the soft glow of streetlights.

as you walk, the conversation continues, easy and simple. billy talks animatedly about his past few weekends at the rodeo and shares some amusing anecdotes about the other rider’s on the circuit. you, in turn, finally divulge your baler incident, much to his chagrin.

the final hours of afternoon are slowly rolling in, and soon you find yourselves back at his pickup truck. you assume he'll drive you home, but to your surprise, he takes a different route, heading towards the backroads right beside your land. you raise an eyebrow, curious about this unexpected detour.

"where are we going?" you inquire, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

billy smirks but doesn't say anything, keeping the destination a secret. the road is winding and narrow— made of dirt and full of large potholes. you know your little front-wheel drive could never make it. eventually, he slows the car off the path, onto the side of the road.

there's an apparent trail just to the right of you, and when billy opens the door for you, he immediately ushers you toward it, "don't worry, we won't go too far in."

you'd be lying if you said the setting sun wasn't adding a level of unease to the idea of entering the woods, but when you look at billy, eyes bright and smile true, you throw aside your worries.

the young man is true to his word. the trek into the woods only lasts a few minutes before you see it. an azure expanse of water— a secluded lake surrounded by towering oak trees and a backdrop of rolling hills.

you turn back to look at him, shocked, "how did you find this?"

"jus’ by chance a few years ago. i figured you'd been out here before, living so close," he remarks, "but i like that i got to show it to you." billy admits, a devoted glint in his eyes.

as you stand there, gazing at the serene lake, you feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for this unexpected and beautiful surprise. you can't remember the last time the familiar landscape of home felt so awing. billy seems to be taking in your reaction, a quiet satisfaction evident on his face.

"it's breathtaking." you finally say, your voice hushed in appreciation.

billy grins, seemingly pleased with your reaction, "so are you."

you turn back to the water to hide your flustered expression.

you watch him find a comfortable spot by the water's edge, sitting on a large flat rock. you follow suit, letting your head nestle into his chest. the sounds of nature surround you—the rustling leaves, the gentle lapping of the water, and the distant calls of birds. it's a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the town and the farm.

you look up at him as inconspicuously as possible, eager to commit his image to memory. his umber hair curls at the nape of his neck, slender nose burnt from the sun, his freckles apparent, and his ever-inspired blue eyes reflecting the water ahead.

you look away as your heartbeat quickens, afraid that if you peer up any longer he'll be able to hear the rhythm.

"can you swim?" you ask, toes dipping into the waters below.

billy's gaze softens, the radiant hues of his eyes flickering with warmth as he looks down at you. his calloused hand idly tracing circles on your back, comforting, "yeah, i can swim. why? you wanna go for a dip?" he replies, a playful glint dancing across his face.

enthusiastically, you nod, "i'd love to. it's been ages since i've been swimming in a place like this."

with a charismatic grin, billy stands up, extending a hand to help you rise. he doesn't hesitate to unbutton his shirt and free himself from his pants— clothed only in his black boxers.

you try to be as carefree as him, but you're slower to shed your attire. by the time you do, he's already shoulder deep in the water.

you make your way to the water's edge, stepping in. the cool embrace of the lake greets your skin as you wade in. the sun now casts a dim golden glow on the rippling surface.

as you move deeper into the water, you feel a sense of liberty wash over you. you let out a contented sigh, feeling weightless and unburdened. billy is a few feet away from you, beckoning you to come closer with a smile on his face. you oblige, splashing water playfully in your wake.

as you approach him, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. you can feel the heat emanating from his body, warming you up in the cool water. your bare skin presses against his, and you can feel a hint of longing course through your veins.

"you're s'beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "prettiest girl i've ever seen."

you chuckle slightly, looking beside him to the water, "you're just blowing smoke up my ass."

his hand finds your cheek, gently beckoning you to face him fully, "why would i ever do that?" he hums, "i only say things i mean, honey."

you blink at him, too far gone to stop your gaping, "you're a charmer, billy bonney. do you hear that a lot?"

he laughs, both hands now coming to rest at your hips, forcing you to wrap your legs around his, "i only need to hear it from you."

he says it so carelessly, without a thought. he's telling the truth, you surmise.

"why? you like me or something?" the words come out genuine, despite your teasing intent.

billy's eyes trail down to your lips, "i like you a whole lot, honey," you feel his grip grow steadier, holding you closer to him. he looks back up at you, gaze tempting, "i like you s'much i worked an extra four days on your farm jus’ to see you."

the revelation hangs in the air, and you find yourself caught in a suspended moment, the water lapping gently around you. billy's admission resonates, sinking deep into the newfound connection you've shared over these past days. his stare, earnest and reserved, locks with yours, and you can't help but feel a swirl of emotions.

a smile plays on your lips, a mixture of surprise and awe, "that's dedication." you reply, a playful sparkle in your eyes.

billy grins, his hands still securely holding you. "only for you, honey. i'm nothin' if not devoted."

you gleam at his words, intrinsically leaning closer to him. you're so close to letting your lips brush his before you stop, eager to see the weight of his affection once more, "you can kiss me now, if that's what you're waiting for."

with that, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

billy breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along the way. you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your skin, letting out a soft sigh as he finds the sensitive spot on your neck.

"you're gonna be the death o'me." he whispers against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

your fingers tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and nibbles. you can feel the heat building between your bodies, the water around you providing a cooling effect to your heated embrace.

billy's hands slip down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him so that there's barely any space between you. he grinds his hips against yours, earning a moan from deep in your throat. you can feel his hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

your eyes flutter open and you lock gazes with him, the intensity of his gaze mesmerizing. you tilt your head back down, allowing him to steal another kiss. his tongue teases yours. his hands roam up and down your body, exploring every inch of you he can with a passionate fervor.

you can feel yourself being taken into the depths of him until you can barely think or breathe. it's only when he finally pulls away, that you realize the afternoon has fully evolved into the beginnings of nighttime. the sky above you is almost entirely dark, littered with stars.

somehow, you still don’t think the kiss was long enough.

billy smiles at you, brushing his hair away from his eyes. you can't help but smile back, feeling content and happy.

"i think i like you too much." he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your skin. you laugh softly, feeling the same way.

a hum of agreement, "me too." you whisper back, pulling him into a tight hug. you stay like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.

as the night deepens, you and billy finally decide to make your way back to the truck. billy helps you out of the water, his touch lingering as you both reluctantly part from the tranquil lake. the air is filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, their symphony accompanying your footsteps as you follow the narrow trail back to the pickup truck.

the woods, now cloaked in darkness, take longer to exit. the moonlight filters through the dense canopy of leaves, casting shadows on the forest floor.

once back at the truck, you find yourself wrapped in a cozy blanket billy had thoughtfully brought along. the drive home is filled with a comfortable silence, the events of the evening settling into a cherished memory. the road is dimly lit by the truck's headlights, and the night sky is a canvas of stars above.

as you approach the farmhouse, the thrill of the night lingers between you and billy. he parks the truck, and the engine falls silent. the two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, savoring the experience.

"thank you for tonight, you were real sweet." you say, breaking the silence.

billy turns to you, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. "i should be thanking you, for goin’ out with me. so thank you, darling. i think you're real sweet too."

"i'm real glad we met." you add.

he reaches over, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a comfortable gesture. "me too," he replies, his gaze holding yours.

with a reluctant smile, you open the truck door, preparing to step out. billy, however, stops you with a gentle tug on your hand.

"before you go," he starts, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, "i was wonderin' if you'd like to do this again sometime. maybe i could take you down to the rodeo?"

the question catches you off guard, but the sincerity in his expression is undeniable. you feel a warmth spread through your chest, and you nod, "i'd like that, billy."

he grins, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. "good. it's a date then." you agree, leaning up and placing a peck on his pink lips before stepping out of the truck.

it's not until you're safely inside that he drives away into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.

even as you slip into bed, the memories of the night play in your mind like a vivid dream. you drift into sleep with thoughts of the lake, the evening kisses, and the now waivered apprehension of the farmhand.

you've found yourself ensnared with billy bonney.

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[devilfic]

I was wondering if you have any hcs for a jealous Selina Kyle? Thank you!

(gn reader please)

❝jealous!selina kyle❞

pairing: zoe kravitz!selina kyle x gn!reader. cw: best friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, jealousy, possessive selina, she's a little toxica but she's too pretty to be mad at about it, author's taste in women is showing, knives, brief mention of childhood bullying. words: 2.6k.

my god, do I ever

first of all, selina wants you to know that she is NOT the jealous type. how could she be? it wouldn't be... befitting of a woman who likes to stretch her legs and coil her tail ‘round whoever she pleases, whenever she pleases

as an orphan who has owned so little, she has evolved past jealousy, past watching the pretty girls with the happy families buy them everything they want

when she wants something, she takes it. and when it's hers? it's hers

so what's there to be jealous of? she gets everything she wants. and if someone tries to take her things... well. god forbid

you knew this, growing up with selina in the system. she had been in plenty of fights with the sniveling little boys who'd pull her hair and steal what little she could get her hands on

but what little she did have, she shared with you

you always felt a sense of pride at being the exception for selina, the only one she'd let get close

you were practically a part of her, joined at the hip everywhere you went. you didn't need to ask for she'd give you everything if she could

as you both got older, selina got faster

when those same sniveling boys would try to take her things, they'd wake up with pin needles in their boots or bleach in their soap bottles

they'd stopped messing with her pretty quick, but it also put selina in the hot seat with the wardens at the orphanage

by 13, selina was on the streets. she'd threatened you not to follow, told you she'd make a real life for herself, and it took all there was in you not to beg her to stay

but she'd sneak through the gates to see you in the courtyard, hiding and giggling in the tree branches together until the sun set

she'd walk you home from school and you'd share your leftover lunch with her (because it wasn't "worrying" about her if you ate too, it was just two friends shoveling cookies in each other's mouths and laughing all the way home)

by 16, selina was working at bars and nightclubs with fake IDs that promised she was 21

you told her how grown she looked in all that makeup and how she reminded you of those supermodels with their sultry bedroom eyes

and when all was quiet, she would sneak in through your dorm window and climb into bed with you, eyes still caked in glitter and lips still glossy red

and you couldn't help but get a little shy when she would kiss your cheek goodbye before sneaking out at sunrise

by 18, she had secured the keys to her first ever shitty apartment, and hadn't let you spend a day out in the real world before asking you to move in with her

and ever since, you have been selina kyle's one and only roommate

if you didn't count the cats

selina never really made it out of the club scene. she'd bounced from bar to bar and eventually landed at the iceberg lounge, her best-paying gig yet

but it also left you coming home right as she was leaving, only ever having the time to hug each other goodbye before you were forced to eat dinner alone

you'd always hoped that with you helping out on rent, selina could finally get a better job. somewhere sleazy dropheads weren't constantly trying to cop a feel

but she had her reasons, and she promised she’d never bring any of it back home to you

the extent of her nightlife, as far as she let you know, was her one little secret. you knew the lounge was teeming with unseemly types, and whatever happened behind closed doors wasn't exactly legal

and the other stuff—the things she did that covered the other half of her rent?—the less you knew, the better

what she did share were the dates

and selina dated. of COURSE she dated. she’d sometimes come home at 4 in the morning and you’d wake up, a light sleeper when she wasn't around, and she’d kick off her heels and slither into bed behind you and reprimand you for asking about her date when you’ve got to be up for work in 2 hours. but she’d tell you anyway, spinning hilarious webs about the strange people she let spend their dime on her

and you’d nod off in her arms as she sung you dreams of lobster takeout she made her date buy you in the fridge, promising to make you coffee before you headed off to work in the morning

and if you were to ask her the next day about her date, she’d blink and ask, “who?”

it really wasn’t a surprise to you how desired selina was

even in the orphanage, she'd been popular. you yourself had been entranced by her plenty of times before, and selina would tell you a million times how many street rats she'd had to turn down over the years because they got a little too attached

if you asked her if she’d ever commit to anyone tho, she'd just smile, “we both know you're the only one who can pin me down”

you didn't want to admit how often you'd imagined doing just that. and other things

you, on the other hand, have been in a constant struggle to hold down a real relationship

most of your prospective dates were kind, maybe a little awkward

but they also never went anywhere

you blamed it on the nature of gotham, a loveless city that made it hard to hold onto something sweet when the next minute was rarely guaranteed

you never came home from your dates with lobster or funny stories, just snuggling into selina’s open arms and swearing you didn't want to talk about it

you’d asked selina once, a little drunk on sadness, if you’d ever find someone to love you

and she’d taken your chin into her hand, forcing you to look her in the eyes, and told you very seriously, “I love you, and none of these bozos know what they’re missing out on.”

and then, quietly, when you had tucked your head back into her chest to hide the way her words had turned you to jelly, added on, “but I can’t say I hate having you all to myself.”

you hadn’t known then, but she really meant that

selina would continue to go on dates and bring you back gifts—things that were intended for her but she always insisted you have. it had weirded you out wearing the pretty bracelets and rings and more that her one-and-done dates would buy her, even more so when she would insist on you wearing them to work or on nights out on the town

but she always got this proud look in her eye when you would show off her gifts

borderline... hungry, even

god forbid if it was a piece of clothing, some piece she'd bought for you on a poor sap's black card during a shopping spree

she’d drape herself against the couch and command you to walk for her in your little living room, her hand brushing your thigh or waist as you pass her by, her eyes glinting as she would order you to twirl or pose or stand utterly still as her fingers drag up your silhouette to examine… something

or she’d come up behind you while you were washing dishes, her fingers plucking one of the rings she'd given you off the kitchen sink and admiring the little soap suds bubbling on the gem, murmuring something about how she should really get on top of dishes more often

or how she’d kiss your ear after climbing into your shared bed for the night, resting her hand on your hip where her fingers would just brush the waistband of your underwear

honestly, it was really hard to remember she wasn’t your girlfriend sometimes

after one too many internal what-are-we’s, you’d vowed to secure yourself an actual partner

and funnily enough, that was all it took

this date was smart, funny, a good listener, and definitely hadn’t killed anyone before

one uncertain date turned into two shaky dates turned into three hopeful dates turned into a month of steady dating

you could see the surprise in selina’s eye whenever you'd tell her that yes, you were going out again and yes, it was still the same person

but then she’d always wish you good luck, promise to break their knees if they broke your heart, and stand alone as you bolted off to see your new not-quite-something-just-yet

morning chats over coffee about the neighbors or the strays selina let wander in through the fire escape turned into "they're just so sweet" and "I really want you to meet them, selina" and "don't you have work in twenty?"

of course she'd grin and bear it when you talked about them. of course she'd pretend it didn't bother her, even if the cats would scamper away from her caress at the mention of your new... thing

you: and they’re really outdoorsy, they promised to take me on a picnic upstate whenever we got time off from work

selina: I bet you’d love that :) too bad your allergies are so sensitive :)) maybe I should take you on a rooftop picnic one day instead :)))

you're always going on and on about how she should meet them, but she never commits to a solid date

but she does want to know everything about them. not their interests or aspirations, but the things that even you wouldn't know

and although she’d never tell you this and you’d never find out, sometimes when you leave for those dates, she breaks into their place

it started out as a necessary precaution, something she told herself she had to do to protect you

there were sick people out there. selina knew that best

but god, if you found out, she wouldn't hear the end of it

it's that little part of her that she keeps secret from you. for your own good

and this too, snooping around your date's bedroom, was for your own good

checking their passport against a list of gcpd's most wanted was for your own good

staying up for you with her hand flicking their butterfly knife back and forth as you tumble through the front door, giggling and- she realizes then that you're not alone. they're here too

the two of you freeze in the front door where selina watches from the couch

"shoot, selina. I thought you had work tonight?"

she eyes you and your meek expression, then the equally bashful look on your date's face. she adores shy on you, adores it even more when she's the reason why, but them... "got off early. hope I'm not... interrupting"

but selina panics through all her bravado, imagines what would have happened had she not been here. would your date have coaxed you to the bedroom—your bedroom—and laid you down, kissed your neck where selina kissed you when she was feeling playful?

or would they have let you straddle them on the couch where selina sits now, windows wide open because they were just so smug that they were taking you from her so easily-

she clears her throat, shoves that thought away lest it get the better of her, and smiles

you look nervously between your date and selina, then very gently tell them that you'd probably have to rain check the rest of the night. you even insinuate to try their place next time, and selina imagines them kissing you on their sticky futon and... oh god, she's gonna lose it if she isn't careful

your date smiles and nods, shrinks back a little when selina rises abruptly to follow them out, and that's when your date notices the knife in her hand still being flicked between her fingers to the rhythm of her pounding heart

"oh, cool. I have a butterfly knife too! you're pretty handy with that." your date praises, sounding a little... shocked

selina smiles tighter, "yeah? you do?"

your date laughs nervously, "almost exactly the same, actually. I-I got it in college. I'm not as skilled as you, though. that one actually looks a lot like the one I have back at my place. that's such a... funny coincidence."

and it's really too much, but when selina thinks back on this moment, she will never truly forget the look in their eyes when she stabs the blade into the door frame right beside their head

if they weren't a little scared of her before, they were now

selina leans in and lets her hand drop from the hilt, "yeah, funny."

your date doesn't look at the knife, or selina, before wishing you a goodnight and bolting down the hallway

"selina, what the hell was that?"

"nothing! nothing. I was just... playing around. I didn't think they'd piss themselves."

you narrow your eyes at her, "you expect me to believe you didn't know what you were doing?"

"well, if they scare that easily, I'd rather them not be around you anyway"

"selina."

"I mean, come on, pet. I've looked after you since we were kids and you expect me to let just anybody come take you away from me?"

"...selina."

"and I don't care if you've found someone—I couldn't care less, really—but at the very least pick someone with some teeth-"

in her pacing, you catch selina by the wrist and cage her against the kitchen countertop just to force her to look at you, your voice dropping to whisper her name, "selina?"

and she just. cracks

her eyes are wet with frustration and she doesn't want you to see, doesn't want you to see her laid bare so suddenly because she'd always thought.... well, she'd always imagined that this would go a little smoother

dinner over candlelight, rented out restaurant just for the two of you, wine and feeding you expensive sweets and every ruby and emerald and pearl she'd ever bought adorning you. making you shine in her fantasies like a bright light blotting out that nasty little speedbump of a wimp you called your date-

she pushes her lips against yours to stop the spiral, and because you look so pretty that it hurts to look at you for too long and not kiss you

it's quick. a peck, really

she does it to quell the raging storm of desperation in her but when she pulls away and your lip is wet from her kiss, the desperation swells all over again

you look like you're trying to process all those years of friendship, "playful" kisses, touches that you weren't supposed to think twice about

"you... but you... all those dates..."

selina shakes her head, and somehow admitting who she's been every night since she was 13 is a lot less scary compared to her heart bursting in her chest, "did you really think... all those gifts were for me?"

everything did always fit just a little too perfectly on you

you melt into her, dropping your head on her shoulder with the weight of the truth and you feel her laugh and hold you close by the waist

you press your burning face into the crook of her neck, "I never thought... I mean, I'd always kind of hoped that you... that you might feel the same. I'd just assumed I wasn't your type."

you feel her nails glide up your spine, dragging up your neck and causing you to full-body shiver, "baby, you are the type"

"so, the dates weren't real?"

"a few were. not all of them"

"how'd you afford all that stuff, then? penguin can't pay that well"

selina's nails pause in their caressing of your neck

you peel back some, waiting for her reply

gently cupping your throat, selina smiles innocently, "you're into leather, right?"

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs

[die-pink-maus]

A Weekend In Vienna 🇦🇹: Part III

❤︎ Drawing Credits: @lettaniko ❤︎

This is part three to A Weekend in Vienna. The love I’ve gotten on the first two parts has been so so so SO awesome! Thank you guys, y’all are making me feel a lot less anxious about sharing my writing, haha 🤗

♡ PART I 👉🏽 A WEEKEND IN VIENNA 🇦🇹

♡ PART II 👉🏽 A WEEKEND IN VIENNA: PART II 🇦🇹

TW: 18+, MDNI, heavy smut, mild sexting, mild asphyxiation, MDom, age gap relationship, dirty talk, female pronouns used, fingering, p in v, hair pulling 🤭, eye contact during seggs, size kink, quite a bit of German in this chapter

Word Count: 5129 // It is a HEFTY one guys 😅

Likes/Reblogs greatly appreciated 🥰

Enjoy! 💋

I woke up the following morning with a raging headache and thoughts that most certainly warrant a cold shower. My mind is clouded yet again with provocative thoughts of the large Austrian military man I had the pleasure of meeting yesterday, and how badly I wished to feel his lips against mine again. I could kiss that man all day and night, which appears to be part of what he seems to have in mind for me, amongst other things, as he so boldly pointed out last night. I hate that I have to spend my entire day anticipating our date later this evening, and I know Adrian is gonna have a billion and one questions about last night and what may have possibly happened between König and I. Sigh. I pulled the covers from my body and walked over to the window to open the curtains when I heard a knock on the door. I opened the bedroom door to find Adrian grinning from ear to ear with an extremely large bouquet of vibrant crimson coloured roses and an envelope in her hands. “What the hell?” I laughed. “Awww, did you get me flowers?” I teased.

“Haha, very funny.” She laughed. “I didn’t, but I have a feeling I may know who they’re from!” she shrieked excitedly as she handed me the flowers and the envelope, before skipping into my room and closing the door. “Chantelle” written quite beautifully in cursive painted across the front of the envelope. I set the flowers down on my bed and took a seat beside them as I opened the envelope. “Guten Morgen Schönheit,” it read.

“I just realized we never exchanged numbers, would love to hear from you before I see you tonight. I know roses are a bit typical, but they’re beautiful…not as beautiful as you, but close! Here is my number. Looking forward to seeing you again.

- König.”

Aw! I don’t think I can remember the last time a man bought me flowers, especially when it wasn’t necessary. He could have easily messaged Adrian for my number or have had her give me his, but I like that he put some thought and effort into it! I think I must’ve re-read the note at least 30 times, a goofy smile smeared across my face as I drowned out Adrian’s numerous questions. “Are you even listening to me?!” She asked as she shook my shoulder.

“Sorry,” I laughed. “What did you say?”

“What the hell happened last night?” She asked. See, I knew she wasn’t paying attention. “Soo…we kissed. Well, he kissed me.” I said as I felt my cheeks heating up, undoubtedly turning a bright shade of red as my mind replayed the moment we kissed by the bar rail. “How did I miss that?” She asked.

“You were sloshed.” I cackled as I watched her brows furrow. “You were glued to one of König’s friends pretty much the entire night, and telling the whole table these suuuuper elaborate stories, theatrical hand movements and all.” I continued, laughing harder as I recalled what she looked like while she spoke. “Fuck…yeah I don’t even remember getting home to be honest. I’m surprised I’m not sick right now, but I suspect it’s because I’m still kinda drunk.” She giggled. “So how was it?!? I need all the deets.”

“Incredible would be an understatement, that’s all I will say…I’m supposed to have dinner with him later tonight.”

“That’s my girl! I told you that man was into you.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I know, Adri. He’s just…kinda intimidating. I’ve also never dated a man this much older than me.” The whole age gap thing doesn’t really bother me, it’s just different! Not even gonna lie, its a bit exciting…he’s probably very experienced, but considering I haven’t slept with very many people, I am a little worried about not meeting his expectations. I also feel like I’m reciprocating his interest in more than just sex, and that’s making me a little nervous as well. The last thing I would want is to develop strong feelings for someone who lives so many miles away. Even though we only hung out for a couple of hours at a crowded bar, in between all of the sexual tension was great conversation and a medley of common interests. In all honesty, he’s really just one big, giant, sexy dork. He’s funny, he’s intelligent and well spoken, and it seems he can also be a little shy at times too, but a part of me is hoping it’s just me that brings that out of him. “I mean, I get it, but don’t let any of that psych you out. Don’t overthink it, Chantelle.” Adrian said. “Text him! Or call him, he may be on the base right now actually. Tell him to tell Horangi I said Hi!” She laughed as she walked towards my room door. “Think I’m gonna grab a couple more hours of sleep.”

“No problem girl, you definitely need it.” I giggled.

I stared at my phone, the number from the note in the envelope typed into my contacts and saved under ‘König🙈💕’. My thumb loomed over the “Send Message” button. Why is this so hard? Maybe because I don’t know what I want to say to him. Obviously I would like to thank him for these gorgeous roses, because it was just so…cute! And even though I literally know he wants to hear from me, my heart is beating so fast it feels like it could literally burst right out of my chest. I began to type, “Good morning König, it completely slipped my mind that we didn’t have each other’s numbers, I appreciate you reaching out to give me yours. Thank you so much for the flowers, they are stunning 🙈 How is your day going so far?” I took a deep breath and hit send, damn near throwing my phone to the other side of the bed. I stared up at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity before I heard my phone ding. I didn’t wanna look at first, for fear of it not being him and getting disappointed, but I sucked it up and reached across the bed for my phone. iMessage König🙈💕. I typed in my passcode and opened the message. “I’m glad you liked them, they reminded me of you 🙂🌹 I’m actually on the base at the moment, finished up a bit of training with a few recruits, now I’m just in my office taking care of some paperwork. How are you?” He texted. Below the text was a photo of him in what I assumed was his office, decked out in FULL tactical gear. I’ve seen military men in uniform many times before, but I’d never seen anything quite like this. This must be what Adrian was talking about before. His sniper hood — the black cloth that draped over his face underneath a helmet, eye black smudged around his blue orbs, the only part of his face that remained visible. I don’t quite know how to describe how I feel seeing this version of him for the first time, though it’s very reminiscent of how I felt the first time I saw him at the train station. It sure is a shocking sight. Definitely adds to the overall intimidation factor that comes with him as whole. I bet it does an amazing job at scaring off the opposing side. Hm. I never really thought I’d be into the whole ‘masked man’ thing, but seeing him like this is making me think otherwise. I can’t help but fantasize about being in that office with him right now. I can’t stop picturing myself underneath his desk with my fingers gently wrapped around his long, hard, throbbing cock, my tongue gliding over his leaking tip as he looks down at me. His mask and eye paint drawing emphasis to the look of absolute gratification in his stormy eyes, while his large fingers twist themselves up in my hair, pushing my lips further down around his shaft. My thighs clench together at the thought, desire seeping through my folds as I continue to look at the picture, relishing in the various naughty scenarios being conjured up in my mind. Oh, God why do I like this? “I hope my hood hasn’t scared you off 😅” he texted, immediately shaking me out of my trance. I figured I may as well send him a selfie back, but I began wondering if I should change out of my pyjamas — a large black Nirvana Tee and a pair of panties. Maybe I can have a little fun with this. I tapped on my camera app and posed, my shirt strategically pulled up a bit to give him a little sneak peak at the red thong currently nestled between my ass cheeks. “My day is just getting started! Your mask didn’t scare me at all…is it weird that I kinda like it? 😜🙈” I texted, sending the message along with the photo I’d just taken. “Maybe just a little hahaha, but I’m glad you like it. I’ll have to wear it for you in person sometime 😉” He texted back shortly after. “Do you sleep that way or did you put that on just for me?🤔😏” I giggled as I read the text, biting my lip as I thought of how to respond. It’s obvious that his military attire has lit a fire in my core, and I want him to know, but a little teasing never hurt anyone. “Don’t flatter yourself, I don’t usually wear anything at all to bed.” I responded.

“Oh is that so? ”

“Mhm…🙈”

“You’re very distracting, how am I supposed to get any of this work done now?”

“Me? Distracting? What ever do you mean? 🤨🤭”

“Oh, you know exactly what you’re doing, Maus, and it’s working.”

“What am I doing?”

“Making me want to drop everything to come keep you company in that bed, and give you a taste of what’s to come…I’d make sure you woke up with a smile on that gorgeous face jeden morgen.” Fuck.

“Yeah? And how would you do that?”

“Well first of all, I’m a hell of a cook, I’d make you whatever you’d like.”

“French toast?”

“With a nice side of the best bacon you’ve ever had, along with some fresh fruit 😋”

“Mmm…that sounds absolutely delightful!”

“After I’ve satisfied your tastebuds, I’ll make sure to satisfy you in every other way possible.”

“What else do you think would satisfy me?”

“A number of things, starting with slow passionate kisses…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of your lips, but I bet the ones between your legs are much sweeter. I’m dying to taste you.” My breath began to labour as I read his texts, warm slick seeping from my folds and through my panties as my fingers gently caress over my swollen clit. “How badly do you want me?”

“So bad I might rip through my cargo pants…” He sent another photo, only this one didn’t have his face — or rather eyes — in it. It wasn’t your typical ‘dick pic’, there was no nudity, but I certainly saw a lot. I stared, dumbfounded at the size of the print outlined beneath his cargo pants. I kinda figured it would be big, but I didn’t think it would be that big. I’ve never had anything that size but I got hot just thinking of taking it. Feeling him fill me up, pushing that boundary between pleasure and pain, fuck. I pulled my fingers from my panties, my juices coating them as I positioned my phone above them, capturing the strings of wetness connecting my index and middle fingers. “Komm und koste mich 💋” I sent along with the photo. “Schiße…maybe you might be the one who ends up being bad for my health 😂”

“Maybe neither of us is bad for the other…” A couple minutes of silence passed before I received another text. I figured he’d gotten caught up with work, or some…other kind of interference, but it appears he may have had something a little more serious on his mind. “I do think it is important to stress that as badly as I want you this way, it isn’t the only thing I want. I just want to make sure you know that I don’t just want your body, I want more than that.” He texted.

“What else do you want?” I replied.

“What I mentioned last night at the bar…to be able to come home to a woman as beautiful as you. I want you to be mine.”

7pm came a lot quicker than I’d expected it to. I guess it helps that König and I have been texting back and forth for pretty much the entire day. By the time he arrived to pick me up, I was ready to go. I decided to go with a black, mid length, form fitting off the shoulder dress, and a pair of strappy black heels. I styled my hair with my curling iron and parted it down the middle, before accessorizing with a pair of Diamond earrings, and my black faux snakeskin clutch. Makeup was perfect, not overbearing but not too light either, and then for the finishing touch, a few spritzes of Chanel’s Mademoiselle perfume. I damn near raced down the stairs, waving goodbye to Adrian and her aunt and uncle before walking out the door. Butterflies began to swarm about my stomach as he and I locked eyes, he was leaning against the front end of his car, fidgeting with his keys as he waited for me. He looks even better than usual — wearing a pair of medium wash denim jeans, a white crew neck shirt and a nice leather jacket. His hand outstretched to me as I approached him. I placed my hand in his as he gently pulled me in closer, placing his finger beneath my chin and tilting upward. “Hallo meine schatz,” he smiled as he leaned downward, placing his lips softly against my forehead. “Du siehst heute Abend sehr schön aus.” He whispered as he held my gaze.

“Dankeschön.” I said, biting my lip as he leaned forward to close the gap between our lips, his kiss dripping with longing and fervour. “Let’s get going, ja?” He breathed as his thumb gently grazed against my bottom lip. He quickly leaned back in for one more kiss before we got into the car. Ugh, I can’t get enough — and apparently, neither can he.

We arrived shortly thereafter at a very nice Italian restaurant. He pulled my chair out for me before taking his seat. It’s so sad that this is the first time I’m actually experiencing genuine chivalry, but men in North America do not behave this way. If anything, majority of the time it’s the complete opposite, but I won’t even get started on all that. The waiter placed menus in front of us both and filled our glasses with water, before departing as we looked over the menus. “Do you see anything that catches your eye yet?” He asked, a slight smirk appearing on his lips as his eyes peered up from behind his menu. “Maybe,” I began, fighting back a smile as I took a sip of my water. “How would you feel about a bottle of wine? Do you prefer red or white?” He asked.

“I do prefer white, but kinda in the mood for red wine tonight.

“Perfect!”

“Everything on this menu sounds incredible, but I think I’m gonna go with the Chicken Parmigiana with Linguine Pomodoro.”

“I think I’m going to go with the streak and veggies, been a long time since I’ve had a good steak.”

“Mmm that sounds yummy too, it’s definitely going to taste great with the red wine as well.”

“Oh definitely.” He smiled as he set his menu aside, his hand reaching for mine across the table, gently holding it in his as his thumb grazed against my fingers. I absolutely adore how affectionate he is. He is so different from the man I imagined he would be. While I’m sure there’s a side of him that is ruthless and aggressive, given his profession, he’s so sweet with me, and I have a feeling this is a side not very many get to see. He brought my hand up to his lips, planting soft little kisses along my fingers. “I can’t get over how beautiful you are.” He said “Ich könnte dich den ganzen Tag ansehen” he smiled, his cheeks adorning a faint shade of pink. Is he blushing? “Danke,” I blushed. “You look great tonight as well, the leather suits you.” I smirked.

“Oh what, this old thing?!?!” He said knowingly.

“Mhm, you know you look good, stop pretending you don’t.” I giggled.

“Hey, I admit to nothing.” He laughed as he raised both hands in defence. I laugh as the waiter returned to take our orders. “Are we ready to order?” He asked. “Ja,” König said. “Meine dame will have the chicken parmigiana and the linguine pasta, I will have the steak, medium, with a side of vegetables and mashed potatoes. May we also have a bottle of red wine please?” Something about him asserting dominance and placing my order for me had me clenching around nothing. I find it so incredibly sexy that he manages to remain refined and polite, all while also being stern. That tinge of aggression I see in him when he addresses others, and the attention he commands is exhilarating. As much as I can’t wait to eat, I’m yearning to be satiated in other ways that don’t involve food.

We remained at the restaurant for another 2 hours post dinner talking about everything and anything under the sun. I learned that he will soon be retiring from the army, enjoys fishing and hunting in his spare time, and collects vintage comic books. He’s a huge fan of all things classic rock and metal, but he also enjoys smooth jazz. He’s got a soft spot for cats and animals in general. He has a 5 year old black cat named Moritz, and adopted two German Shepherds for his base as pets. Our conversation flowed effortlessly, and I believe we both learned quite a bit about each other, and we both seemed to like what we learned. My nerves returned as we got into his car. What happens now? I’m really trying to decide what I’d like my next move to be. Should I go home, or should I go home with him? “Two days left before you go back, right?” He asked as he turned to me, a slight hint of disappointment in his eyes. “Yes, unfortunately.” I sighed. “I wish I could stay longer, especially considering we’ve only just begun to get to know each other.”

“I also wish you could stay longer, but I assume you have a whole other life to get back to in Kanada” he sighed. “How do you feel about continuing to see each other, despite the distance?” I tried to contain my surprise as I pondered his question. I guess I never really thought he’d be interested in that, but it seems like every assumption I’ve made about König has proven to be incorrect thus far. Long distance relationships always make me uncomfortable, even though I’ve never been in one. Though I know it isn’t a relationship, at least not just yet, I do have my reservations about an arrangement such as this one. However, I do think I lucked out here. It’s not very often that you run into your dream guy on an impromptu weekend trip to Vienna. I think I’d be doing myself a disservice if I ended things on the basis of distance. “I still want to see you…I like where things are going.” I blushed, smiling as I saw excitement gleaming in his eyes. “I’m very happy to hear that.” He smiled as he leaned over to kiss me. “Sie werden es nicht bereuen, Maus.” He said lowly against my lips. I looked up at him, my heart beat picking up pace as we searched each other’s eyes. You could cut the sexual tension in here with a knife, and I think at this point the only logical option here is…I’m going home with him. “König,” I whispered.

“Yes?” He asked, gently resting his large hand over my thigh, causing a myriad of goosebumps to appear all over my body. “I’m not ready for the night to be over.” I said, a devious grin dancing on his lips as he started the car. “Would you like to come back home with me, Maus?” He asked, his hand gently gliding along my thigh, sliding upwards toward my core. “Yes.” I breathed as I reached over, pulling him down against my lips. It wasn’t long before what was meant to be a small peck turned into a full blown make out sesh, our tongues massaging against one another’s as his hand gently slipped beneath my dress. He pulled away, earnestly searching my expression for confirmation to go further. I nodded and pulled him back into me, moaning into the kiss as his calloused fingers approached my soaking wet folds. “Schiße…” he breathed as his fingers explored me through my panties, an array of tiny moans escaping my lips as his thumb rubbed against my swollen nub. His lips moved to my neck, softy sucking and biting along my sweet spots as he pulled my panties to the side. “Oh Maus,” he whispered, as he slowly inserted two of his fingers into my pussy. “You’re so tight…” he said as he began thrusting his fingers. “So fucking wet and I’ve barely even touched you yet.” He breathed against my lips, gently nipping at the bottom one as he pulled away and cupped my cheek. His expression riddled with satisfaction as he watched me squirm beneath his fingers. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes.” I moaned, as he pulled his fingers from my sopping wet cunt. “Good girl.” He praised, as he slowly pushed his fingers between my lips. I leaned forward, sucking my juices off of his fingers, my gaze never leaving his. “Mmm, that’s it liebe.” He said, indulging in the sight of me delighting in the nectar he’d procured from my folds. He grabbed hold of my chin and pulled me in for yet another kiss, but this one was different, it’s was needy and aggressive. His hand reached back down between my legs, his thumb resuming its slow and gentle dance over my swollen clit. “Such a beautiful little thing,” he whispered into my ear, his fingers reentering me, my head reflexively falling back as he massaged my g spot. “I can’t wait to pin your legs back and watch your toes curl as you take every inch of this cock.” He said, guiding my hand towards the large bulge in his jeans.

“Please König,” I begged. “I wanna feel you so bad.” My palm gently stroking against his hardness through his pants.

He smirked as his fingers slipped out of me, bringing them up to his lips and licking them clean. “You taste even sweeter than I imagined.” He said.

I slowly slipped the shoulders of my dress down my arms as König laid back on his bed, watching intently as my dress fell to the floor, my bra and panties following closely behind. He wandered about my curves through hooded eyes, drinking in every inch of me, his gaze growing dark as his bulge practically begged for release. I climbed on top of the bed and knelt beside him, unbuttoning his jeans as he reached for the hem, helping me slide them off and kicking them to the side. More than half of his hardened length lay erect against his stomach, peeking out from the waistband of his boxer briefs. Precum oozed from his blushing tip, droplets decorating the lower half of his stomach over his happy trail. I pulled down his boxers, jaw slack as I stared down at the entirety of his impressive length. “Fuck…” I said under my breath.

“Don’t worry, Maus. We’ll take it slow.” He reassured, clearly noticing the slight fear in my eyes. I nodded as I climbed a top his waist, straddling his hips as his hands began to squeeze and grope at my ass cheeks. We began to kiss, our bodies growing hot with anticipation, my hips gently grinding down, rubbing my engorged clit against his throbbing cock, covering him in the wetness spilling from my core. He wrapped his arm around my waist and flipped me onto my back, hovering over me as he planted rough, wet kisses along my neck and over my chest. His lips engulfing one of my nipples, as his hand clasped around the other, rolling my nipple between his finger tips. “Oh God…”I breathed heavily, my nipples growing hard and sensitive as he licked and sucked, gently biting and tugging on my nipple before switching sides. He began making his way down my stomach, kissing along my inner thighs before stopping to admire my needy cunt. “Such a beautiful pussy,” he muttered before hooking his arms beneath my legs, lifting me slightly off the bed as he pulled me into his face. “Fuck…” I moaned, quite loudly as his tongue engaged my nub, ferociously lapping and flicking against it as my hands grabbed hold of his bedsheets. “Mmmm,” he moaned. “You taste incredible…so fucking wet for me, meine Maus” he breathed, his breath hot against my folds as he darted his tongue inside me. “Fuck, König !” I exclaimed, the build of my impending climax growing more and more intense with each passing moment. “Let go for me, I want you to cum all over my tongue.” He growled. “Cum for me, Maus” adrenaline washed over me as I released, my orgasm pulsating through my body as he continued to suck on my hardened clit. His arms departed my legs as he lay flat and I attempted to catch my breath, three of his fingers entering my pussy, thrusting uncontrollably. My pussy squelched and clenched around his fingers as he began to curl upward, torturing my g spot as he continued to suck on my clit. “Oh König, you’re so good…I can’t,” I gasped. “I’m gonna cum again, oh my god”

“That’s it, Maus.” He praised as a second orgasm washed over me, this one much more intense than the one prior. “Mmm, mein Got you taste so fucking good. Look at the mess that desperate little cunt of yours made.” He panted. “But I’m not finished with you yet.”

“König, please.” I cried out, eyes hazy from the back to back euphoria my body just experienced. “Please fuck me.” I begged.

“You look so beautiful all dripping and spent.” he smirked as he leaned back onto his heels, grabbing his thick dick and sliding it up against my overstimulated clit. “I wanna hear you beg for it, Maus.” He smirked as he continued to tease my entrance with the head of his cock. “Auf Deutsch.” He said as he leaned over me, positioning himself by my entrance before leaning down to kiss me. “Bitte…” I stuttered. “Bitte fick mich, König.” I moaned as he slowly began pressing inward. “That’s what I like to hear.” He whispered, his eyes locked on mine, watching as my eyes widened at the sensation of his girthy cock sliding into me little by little. “Mmmm.” We moaned in unison, his hand clasping around my neck as he gently thrusted deeper and deeper into me. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, Maus?” He asked as he bottomed out in me, his tip kissing my cervix. “For me to stretch out this pretty little tight cunt…destroy your cute little hole, Ja?”

“Yes.” I moaned, growing lightheaded as his grip on my neck tightened while he began to pick up the pace. “Yeah?” He moaned mockingly. “So tight, meine liebe…fuck you feel amazing.” He moaned against my lips. “You’re taking me so fucking well.” He growled, eyes piercing into me as he thrusted harder and faster.

“God König…you’re so fucking big.” I moaned. “Love the way you fill me up.”

“Mmmm, that’s my girl. You take it so well too, Maus.” He praised as he pulled my legs onto his shoulders, my moans growing louder and louder as he fucks me senseless. Obscene noises filling the air as my pussy gushes around his cock.“You’re such a good fucking girl for me.” He panted, swiftly pulling out of me and flipping me onto my stomach. He stood at the foot of the bed, grabbing me by my hips and pulling me towards him. I arched down, pushing my pussy down onto his cock as I looked back at him. His hand grabbed my hair, twisting it’s strands around his wrist as his other hand grabbed hold of my waist. He began to slam into me from behind, pulling me back against his chest by my hair. “God look at you,” he whispered. “So fucking cock drunk.” He breathed as his hand moved up from my waist to grab hold of one of my tits. My body begins to shake beneath his grip. “It’s so fucking good.” I moaned, tears stinging the corners of my eyes as he fucked my overstimulated cunt, shockwaves rumbling within my core as his cock twitched inside me, repeatedly caressing my cervix. My legs began to shake. “König I — I’m gonna cum” I cried out.

“Good.” He whispered as he spanked my ass. “I’m gonna cum with you…where do you want it?” He asked.

“My ass.” I moaned, my orgasm paralyzing me shortly after. He followed closely behind, whimpering as he quickly pulled out of me, his juices splattering all over my ass. He pulled my face towards his, placing a long tender kiss on my lips. “Du warst so gut.” He panted as he pressed his forehead against mine, cupping my cheek in his palm as we both tried to catch our breaths. I leaned forward and kissed him once more before he jogged over to his bathroom, bringing back a fresh towel and wiping his cum off of my ass. “Can I get you a glass of water, Maus?” He asked as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders from behind before kissing my cheek. “Sure.” I said as I smiled up at him.

That was incredible.

[chiefduckgarden]

Sweet Nothing

Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

A/N: sorry if there's any grammatical mistakes, it's 3:25 in the morning.

It was a rainy saturday afternoon and Elizabeth was finishing her grocery shopping, after spending the last thirty minutes finding everything she had wroten on her little list, she was ready to go home.

Waiting on the line to pay was one of the most boring things on earth. Or at leat that's how it felt for Lizzie.

But there she was, all hid behind her blue dodgers baseball cap, her big black sunglasses and her face mask. There were three people in front of her, she just needed to be a little more patient.

She looked on the shelves around her and pick up a chocolate bar to put it in her basket. A magazine standing next to the other candies caught up her attention.

Her face was all over the cover, and a slightly smaller picture of you on her side, only with a heart break image in between. She couldn't help but roll her eyes before reading the headline on it.

"Actress of the moment Elizabeth Olsen and her girlfriend, writer and director Y/N Y/LN: rumors on their broke up."

She left the magazine back on the shelf and noticed similar headlines on the other magazines behind it.

"What's going on between Elizabeth Olsen and her ex-girlfriend?"

"Everything we know about the rumors between Elizabeth Olsen and Y/N Y/LN"

She didn't even bothered to read them, it was ridiculous the way press was trying to dig into her private life.

Luckily for her, the line moved fast and in less than twenty minutes she was walking back to her car.

On the way out she spotted two or three paparazzi taking pictures of her. She pretend she didn't see them but she moved her groceries to her car quicker than other days to get out of that place as soon as possible.

On the drive home she felt her heart beat raising and her hands shaking, knowing she probably was having anxiety.

The moment she parked in front of her house she got out of the car and ran inside. She didn't notice the moment she started to cry but she could feel the wetness on her face.

Once she was in the safety of her home she finally tried control her breath in order to control her feelings. But it was hard to control them when all she could felt was her body going numb. It felt like she was going to faint.

That's when she felt a pair of arms holding her, and your familiar warmth that always helped her feel safe.

- Hey Lizzie, it's me, everything is fine darling, you're here, you're in home... Please baby breath with me okay?

She slowly nodded her head.

- Okay so deep breath in... And breath out... That's it, one more time baby...

Lizzie followed your soothing voice and after some minutes of breathing she finally felt her body relax, allowing herself to fall into your arms crying.

- Y/N... - she whispered with trembling voice.

- I'm here baby, I'm here.

You completely embraced her in your arms and she buried her face in the crock your neck, letting herself smell your scent. Something she has always loved.

Some minutes later she felt better and the two of you sat on to the couch in the living room to talk.

- What happened Lizzie? You had an anxiety attack...

- I'm sorry baby but when I was leaving the grocery store I saw some paparazzi taking pictures of me in the parking lot and I got scared... I was afraid they would follow me home like the last time...

- Oh darling I'm so sorry I wasn't there... You should've call me and would've been there as soon as I could... - you told her, holding her hand that was resting on your lap.

- No, I didn't want to disturb, I told you I would go alone and...

- I know but that doesn't matter, there's nothing more important to me than you... You're my girlfriend Lizzie, we're in this together.

She smiled and leaned on to sweetly kiss you on on the lips. You hold her face with your other hand and deepened the kiss a little.

- I know, I love you Y/N, I'm sorry I scared you today.

- Hey it's fine, never apologize for something like this again, okay?

She smiled again and kissed you one more time.

- So, what do you say if you go rest a little and put on some comfy clothes while I go get the groceries from the car and park it in the garage...

- Oh no, let me go do that baby, you don't need to do it for me.

- I know but I will, you just had a shaken day and deserve to get some rest.

You didn't let room for discussion and she ended up giving up. Sometimes your stubbornness around taking care of her was adorable. One of the many reasons why she fell in love with you four years ago.

Lizzie went upstairs and followed your instructions. After changing her clothes into her pajamas and washed her face as she listened to her favorite playlist (the one you created specially for her) she went back downstairs to see what you were doing.

She found a lovely atmosphere with relaxing jazz music on the background and a wonderful smell all over the room.

She silently walked into the kitchen only to find you humming to the song playing as you finished fixing dinner for the two of you.

- That smells amazing honey... - she said hugging you from the back and resting her head in your shoulder.

- Thank you darling, I hope it tastes as good as it smells.

She laughed and helped you plate the food for you two to start eating.

- Do you wanna know what I found out today? At the grocery store... - Lizzie asked you half way through the dinner.

You looked at her smiling.

- What did you found out honey? - you asked.

- That we broke up again, for the second time this year - she said with fake worry.

- Oh no! That's terrible - you responded with the same dramatic tone - Did you broke up with me? Or was it me the one who screwed up?

She laughed.

- I'm not sure darling... But I think it was your fault... - she told playfully.

- I know, it's always my fault, remember the last time we split up? I cheated on you with Margot Robbie... How could it happened again! - you said dramatically with a hand on your chest.

The two of you bursted into laugh and then went back to eat.

- I can't believe they keep going on with that, it's a little old-fashioned, don't you think? They're always saying the end is coming...

- Yeah, but I bet they make thousands with our faces in the cover...

The conversation moved from that and you started to tell her about your new project. You finally came up with the perfect name for it, something you had been thinking about for some weeks .

She listened to you smiling adorably. The way you moved you hands whenever you talked about your ideas and the way your hair flied with the wind blowing from the window. She loved you.

She didn't care if the world outside was pushing and shoving on her. She didn't care if they talked and gossiped around your relationship. She knew that, at the end of the day she would always come back home to you. You were the only person she would be vulnerable to, admitting that sometimes she was too soft for all the pressure that evolved her line of work.

You would hold her and kiss her. Listen to every single word that cames out of her mouth. You would always support her, be by her side though ups and downs, helping her with your best advices for her problems. You would be there even when she didn't love herself. Holding her hand through everything.

Cause all that you ever wanted from her was sweet nothing.

[the-fiction-witch]

Orland and Ophelia P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Shela (Fleabottom Smallfolk Girl) Rating - Sweet AF + Scary Ending Word Count - 1645

Aegon picked the children up, giving them both kisses on the cheek. He was so happy. Now he just needed to prove to them that he was going to be the best father ever. He turned to Shela and gave her smile as well, possibly the first genuine one he'd given her in all of their time together.

"I won't forget about you either. We're going to be a family now. All four of us. No one is going to separate us ever again."

"Orland has some legitimate concerns Aegon, you're the heir to the throne you can just come running off to see us all the time and you stay here too long the king's guard or the city watch will come after you. And what is to happen when your father dies? Surely you will be king, so you visiting us will become even less likely and if anyone was ever to know of your bastard children they'd have to kill them to ensure your legitimate children succeed you"

Aegon knew she had a point. But he was not going to let that fear be a reason as to why he could not be with his children. Even when King he would make sure he was present in their lives. He would never let them go again. There were a lot of complications but he was going to make it work. He was going to have to.

"I'll figure something out. I'll make something work. I'm not going to let this be a reason as to why I can't spend time with you. I'm their father. I'll make it work. I promise."

"alright, if you're sure" Shela smiled giving him a kiss "Come on you two, how about you take daddy downstairs and show him your toys?"

He smiled and let his children lead him out of the bar area and downstairs to their living quarters. He was quite curious about what toys they owned thinking back to his piles of toys as a young boy, mountains of play swords and shields, dragon toys to his heart's content but that is not what he found. The downstairs was a small apartment with a bathtub toilet and sink on one side, a double bed on the other and in the centre a rug covered in small plushies, wooden dragons and a table with a small model of king’s landing no bigger than 30cm square, that was all the place had but the children so excited showed him all their small toys. The place was small but clean, the toys sweet clearly Shela didn’t have much money to spoil the twins but still did her best to give them everything they wanted.

He couldn't help but smile as he saw them proudly show him all their toys. It was such a wholesome sight. To see his children so excited to show their small collection of toys and plushies. They were so sweet and gentle, the opposite of what he could ever be. He felt the warm feeling inside of him grow.

"May I ask you a question, children?"

Ophelia nodded as she hugged her bunny plushie Orland was busy having his wooden dragonfly around the red keep model, as Shela came down too and sat on the corner of the bed to watch them play together,

He looked at both of them for a few seconds. "I wanted to ask you both if...you would mind...if I lived with you permanently."

both children jumped with excitement and hugged him tight almost throwing him to the floor they were so happy and excited,

He was surprised by their reaction. He thought the question would be one that they’d hesitate a lot to answer. But they were already saying yes and showing him affection. Just the sight of them made it clear he had missed so much. The sight of them hugging him and smiling at him was enough to make him want to tear up and he almost did. He did not expect them to be so happy to have him. He should’ve asked this question sooner.

after calming down the children go back to playing with their toys and as Aegon glances around it's obvious how little his children have but he can't blame Shela as she has been doing everything she can to give them a good life on the money a barmaid must make

Shela must have so little. And the fact that she gave his children a good life, a love filled home and a warm affection that they obviously reciprocated with their mother made him appreciate her even more. He understood so much now. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him again.

He looked at his children play and he felt so ashamed. He was disgusted by the person that he had been before. He’d made his children live here in so much poverty. His children, his beautiful children. He had left them before and left them to fend for themselves. And for what? A meaningless drunken life? A life where the only thing he did was drink himself to oblivion? How had he allowed himself to reach such a low?

"Daddy?" Little Ophelia came closer with her bunny plushie in hand

“Yes, sweetheart?” He replied with a soft smile, looking down at her. She was such a sweet little girl.

"Mummy said once that you had a dragon, do you think we could ever see the dragon someday?" She asked and immediately Orland perked up too coming over to listen excitedly wooden dragon toy in hand

For a moment his heart froze at being confronted with the question so quickly. This was going to be a tough topic. He did have a dragon, a dragon he had ridden for years. But he wasn’t sure if these little children would be able to understand the complexities of such an issue and he didn’t want to worry them. But he had to be honest with his children.

“I do have a dragon, yes. Named sunfyre. I may be able to take you for a ride one day.”

both giggled excitedly at such an idea

"Could we get dragons someday!" Orland asked

"I wanna dragon!" Ophelia jumped

"I wanna call mine firestarter!" Orland yelled

"I wanna call mine starlight!" Ophelia jumped

He laughed softly at this. The names were so innocent. They had no concept of the power of dragons. They were just small kids wanting to have fun and ride dragons like in the many stories. He wished he could let them ride dragons, but it was just so dangerous. But he couldn’t say that. He wanted to feed all the little hopes they had right now.

“Of course you can, my little ones. But promise me that you won’t ride them yet. You’re still too small and you could get hurt.”

"Can we ride on Daddy's dragon? Please can we! Can we ride with you Daddy!" They both beg

He sighed and looked down at them. “How about we do this, you can ride my dragon but I’ll be holding you both during the flight, okay?”

both scream with excitement jumping up and down happily

He smiled and gently scooped them both up. He was still amazed by how small they were. But there was a bit of an issue right now. They were a bit too small. They were both three years old now, and although they were a bit on the shorter end of the spectrum he still knew that to be able to ride a dragon, they needed more time to mature physically. He gave them each a kiss and let them continue playing. The rest of the morning he spent so happily in their arms, that he played dragons with Orland telling him about the dragon pit, about bonding with a dragon, about the many large and impressive Targaryen dragons all of which fascinated Orland so much. In between dragon tales, he sat on the rug with Ophelia as she set up her favourite plushies and her well-treasured wooden tea set, he sat with her happily and plaid along with her showing her some royal etiquette for her princess tea party, most of which she ignored because of course she is the princess and what she says goes. He peppered both of them with as many kisses as they could stand, fed them as many compliments and words of praise as he could think of, giving them all the love and attention he had craved at their age.

And he didn’t leave Shela out giving her kisses and praise too whenever he could often telling her she made the smartest, most beautiful children as she cooked them some lunch.

Suddenly a loud heavy knock comes from the tavern door upstairs,

“Oh? I wonder who that could be,” Shela dusted her hands off on her skirt,

“Don’t worry about them, it's family time. They can wait.” Aegon smiled taking Orland in his arms and sitting him on his lap and playing with his dragon toy,

“As well as that is, it might be family time but still.” she says, “Orland, Ophelia, you both stay here with daddy while I head upstairs.”

“You sure I’ll go and you can stay down with them?” He asked,

“No, it's okay,” she smiled giving him a kiss which he happily gave her back in return,

“Okay, call if you need me.”

She nodded and headed up the stairs so he happily cradled both the children in his arms giving them cuddles and kisses until a loud bang came from upstairs like a table being turned over and chairs being thrown around with the gentle sound of a short scream.

Aegon immediately panicked he kissed both the children and told them he loved them both before he ushed them under the bed and went to the stairs to head up but he was stopped as he saw his brother Aemond.

Aemond waltzes down the stairs his arm around Shela a knife to her neck to stop her from squirming, “Found you brother,” 

[stonemags]

SUGAR BABY AU

Ch.6 Mishandle

Characters in this series: Reader, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Carol Danvers, Darcy Lewis, Maria Hill, Kate Bishop, Pepper Potts, Valkyrie, Shuri

Summary:How much can you trust people that are the closest to you? Can you put any trust into strangers? After being tricked so many times, you can be sure to trust one person ... yourself. You should have left it that way, to bad you give second chances like fliers on the street.

Warnings: age gap relationships, sugar mommy/sugar baby relationships, swearing, mensplaning, all story is gonna be +18, you are responsible for your own ass. 

Word count: 8915

A/N: This one is coming out faster this time, to make up for the wait ive put you all on. I hope you will enjoy it. Feedback is always walcome! Previous chapter

Your desk is covered in papers, the screen too bright for your liking, your eyes are stinging after hours of sharp focus on the monitor, but this old computer is not really cooperating with you. Loud noises are distracting, making it hard for you to finish your tasks, and you have a lot of them. Your boss, Loki, has put on you a first adult-ish assignment. It's your chance to no longer make coffee, kind of work, even more that fresh inters came in so they are at the bottom of the chain right now. That's how it works. The amount of work stresses you out but you are not going to let the opportunity slide. You can finally edit a text that will end up in one of the less popular magazines, but it's still going to be out. Doesn't matter how insignificant it will be, your name will be on this work and you need to give a 100% out of you.

 It's been 2 weeks since Carol's party, you haven't seen her or any of her friends since that night and to be completely honest you thought about Natasha and Wanda …. not more than once. When you came home and changed the bandaid on your hand the next day, you reminded yourself of how caring and worried they were, but also very smug and self indulgent, after that… nothing. You had school, work, shifts at the bar and your friends to care about. Not mentioning your phone caller issue that you will have to address and take care of at some point. Your life fell back into place after that night, gym, school, work, repeat. You have to keep the flow going or it's really easy to get lost in this kind of lifestyle. It's like running at full speed, you can't trip. The faster you go the harder you are going to hit.

“You better do it right yn.” That low voice scared you coming from behind your shoulder. Loki was always creepy, not in a perverted way but still creepy. 

“Yes boss, on it.” Short and sweet, don't discuss with him, you have learned it the hard way. It's for the best to make him feel validated. You assume that he had a rough childhood by the way he treats other people and by the not so quiet conversations he has with his brother in the office. You can't help but hear them, all the workers do, and you learned to have some understanding towards him. 

You are at your last working hour, the phone is thrown into the drawer so it won't occupy you but your smart watch is vibrating with the amount of messages you are getting. You ignore every single one of them even when the vibration is traveling up your arm, leaving goosebumps on your skin. Last ten minutes you spend on cleaning your desk and putting your stuff into the bag. As you run down two flights of stairs you think about your plan for the rest of the day. You are done with work for now, you have spent half of the night doing extra work for school to get a little bit ahead and it worked amazingly on your anxiety, or the lack of it. You decide on visiting Steve on your way home, even if you don't have a shift at the bar, you enjoy spending time with him. As someone opens the door in front of you to let you exit first, with a short “thanks” you are outside, changing your plans immediately after you feel the warm sun. At this time of the year it is rare and you are planning on using that antidepressant window. The skin on your face feels like it is covered in a thin layer of warmth getting deeper inside of you, embracing your brain in an endorphin hug. You will visit Steve later, for now you are going to grab a nice coffee from the bike/coffee stand near the park and have a walk with your headphones on, ignoring the whole world. 

“Can you start picking up your goddamn phone!” You turn around just in time to stop an angry Darcy right in front of you. Her face seems worried just as she is angry. Right behind her there is Carol clearly having a laugh at her girlfriend's tantrum. When you see her smile you can help but join and embrace Darcy in a hug.

“Sorry Darcy, work stuff. What’s up, what's so important that you came here?” It's unusual for any of your friends to arrive at any of your work places, from your work friends they know only Steve as they hang out at the bar sometimes, but they dont push to get to know everybody around you and you are grateful for that. Darcy points at the car that her girlfriend is already entering and with a big sigh you throw behind you all the warm sunny plans you had and follow along. The car always smells new and you are wondering if Carol is actually exchanging her car for the same one, just new, from time to time. Seems like something she would do. Leather seats squeak under your touch and you take your place in the backseat and you hate every second of it. It's like wearing leather pants, for you it feels like biting a cotton towel, or having your sleeves getting wet, when you wash your hands. Uncomfortable at least. 

Carol starts driving and Darcy looks at you with a really excited expression on her face. 

“No.” You say to her, making her confused right away.

“I didn't even say anything.” 

“But you are going to, and you are excited, which means i have to do stuff, and you could text me what’s all this is about, but you didn't, so kidnapping me is the only way for me to participate in whatever evil plan you made.” She seems almost offended but it lasts three seconds before she starts laughing. 

“You know me so well.” She is slouching over the back of her sweet so she can face you and it makes Carol uncomfortable, worrying that if anything happens the seat belt would work correctly. With one hand on the wheel, Carol puts the other on Darcy's thigh and turns her around. She turns off music and with a steer voice starts talking. 

“Yn can hear your love, don't do that please.” Darcy takes Carol hand into hers not taking off her thigh, just to confirm that she understood and she is sorry. 

“Yes daddy, I'm sorry.” Carol is rarely mad at Darcy, she doesn't really have a reason to, they made for each other, at least in your opinion, but when she is Darcy will use any pet name she can to melt her girlfriends heart and get on her good side again, and it's clearly working wonders. 

“You are having a date Yn.” Carol informs you and you know this is a way of hers to mess with Darcy, the fact that she wasn't the one to share the news infuriates her. 

“I was supposed to, ugh…. I have an outfit for you at Carol's house and we will give you a ride to the restaurant.” 

“That's amazing, thank you very much… but I have work. My shift at the bar starts in-”

“In two days Yn, I have access to your calendar, don't try anything with me.” Feeling defeated, you slouch back a little bit and let your eyes follow the world outside of the car. Carol turns on the radio again after a minute of silence, assuming that everything was said and it won't be irritating for anyone. For a second you even let yourself sink into music and the outside world. Sun is peeking through the small alleys between the buildings, falling on your face in a pattern. You remember briefly that when you weren't able to fall asleep as a child your parents, or someone, you can't really remember, was taking you into the car and driving a couple of times around the block. Street Lamps or the sun flashing from time to time on your face was making you feel good, safe, comfortable, like there is something so bigger then you and everything around you. You found comfort in unlimitless nothingness and even now as an adult you feel safe. You are able to fight the sleepy state, well maybe you drifted away a little bit, and as you see Carol's house you are fully conscious again, anxiety of what's coming slowly creeping in. 

You enter the house, talk with Carol and Darcy about the last party and upcoming events, work stuff, your studies and Darcy's new projects at her school. You can never fully understand what she is talking about, too much chemical talk but you are so proud of her and happy that she can feel fulfilled with where she is. You are always interested in Carol's work and life, maybe that's why you are the closest to her among all your friends. She appreciates the way you treat her as her, not as Darcy's girlfriend or treat both of them as one, because as close as they are, they are still themself. They help you prepare, get your hair fixed, put a nice outfit together, and Carol even let you borrow some of her perfume. In no time you are back in the car going to the unknown location, to meet with a stranger. You are reminding Darcy that you agreed for half an hour of this show and then you are going to be even. She tries to extend it for an hour, using arguments like “ you can't get to know a person in half hour”, or “ you won't be even able to eat”. As you pull in front of the restaurant you see three Michelin stars in the front of it and you almost choke. 

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IN HERE I'M NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO GET A GLASS OF WATER WITH MY BUDGET!” It was louder than you anticipated and the doorman put his focus on the car in front of him. He started going into your direction but Darcy opened the window at the right time.

“Everything is okay, we just need a second.” He smiled and without any words pointed at the parking spot a little bit further from the main door. Carol took a clue and parked there. Darcy took her seat belt off and turned to you, making you jump. 

“Darcy this is too much, and why do I even have to get so dressed up for someone I will turn down in the first two minutes?” You don't want to do this, and you can't be more clear than that. As bad as it sounds you are planning on being just as honest with your date.

“Give them a chance, Jesus, why are you so negative, they're gonna pay for you.” She got out of the car and opened your door rushing you outside. The restaurant is far enough from your house to have a real struggle with coming back, so you have to rely on Darcy and you are not enjoying this feeling. Just when you stepped outside it came to you what she said. 

“They!? What do you mean by They ?! Darcy is that -'' You can't even finish, Darcy closes your door, jumps back into her seat and as in a getaway car tells Carol to drive. You can only hear a faint have fun coming from her window. You run your hand down your face, taking a deep breath in and decide to get through it as ripping off a bandaid, fast but painfully. You straighten out your outfit, little crevices created by the short ride are easy to clean up and the cleaned up outfit helps you a lot with your confidence. You feel like you will need a lot of it during that dinner. Constant tag and pull with the redheads is exhausting and staying afloat as they try to drown you down feels like a survival chore. You can't help but be angry at Darcy, you know she wants good, you know you promised but you feel a little bit betrayed. You can't really pinpoint why but the feeling spreads uncomfortable through your body, or maybe it's just the cold that went back with the sun setting down. Beautiful purple color of the sunset lets you grab the last bits of energy, hope and the feeling of rest. You know it will end as soon as you turn around to enter the restaurant or when the sun will finally set. It's sad that you can't wait for the latter.  

“Half hour Yn, just half hour.” You talk to yourself hoping it will help you feel the back bone of your character and get through it smoothly enough. What 30 minutes can do right?

You enter the building, or rather you are led by the doorman through two sets of doors. After the second one you are met with a man in a suit, he looks important, you are wondering if that's the owner, maybe a menager, they are always around right? He looks so elegant that his status needs to be at a high level. Little lost in your head you hear him speak when the doors are closing behind you. 

“May I take your coat miss?” Miss? Coat? You thought that this man is… and he is just…. It's going to be long, thirty minutes.. This is not something you enjoy, not something that is a part of your world. You just need to survive this. You are wondering how the man will know which coat is yours. He didn't give you a number nor did he take your name. It's all strange and the coat belongs to Carol, you are worrying now about getting it back later. 

Restaurant seems much bigger from the outside. The building is huge but the dining area pleasantly small. The kitchen must take a lot of space, you think to yourself approaching a Host of the restaurant. Small wooden desk in front of him looks amazing. Golden leaves decorating the legs as a vine. The whole place is in darker colors but it gives a more elegant and fancy look to it. Smell is not overwhelming which is usually a problem for you in the restaurants, not in this. You can hear a light chatter around, 

“Welcome, do you have a reservation?” He asks you with his back straight, his tie carefully secured around his neck. Do you have a reservation? This whole thing feels so out of blue, catching you off guard in every single step, it seems. 

“Um… I….” You can't recall their last name, why can't you recall their last name? You fall back into the memory, you follow the steps of the day you meet them. You went to work, bus ride, Wanda opened the door for you, she had her suit on, her shirt was open, she had a messy bun on top, she had this nice perfume on her, the same she used last time you saw her at the Carols party. You could feel it clearly when she was tending your wound. Darcy introduced them to you. She said their names, they are both lawyers or Wanda is a lawyer and Natasha is in finances, yes that seems correct. Did she say their last name ? You remember now, she didn't but they gave you their card…. which you didn't even look at, before throwing it away. Then it comes to you, you were supposed to text them last time after the accident, they gave you a new card and you actually have it on you at the back of your phone case. It is very embarrassing trying to get your phone out of its case but also necessary. Host is waiting for you patiently, his face emotionless, he was definitely well trained for his job. 

“It should be on the name-” You finally take out a card and look at the last name. “-Romanoff, or Maximoff. One of those.” It's strange to see that they are married, but they still use separate last names, it might be just for business and you decide on asking them if you will have to speak at all. At least it's going to be something to talk about. You smoothly follow the host to your table, moving between the tables you can see all the food prepared for other guests and your stomach lets you know about its empty state. Smell coming from each of the tables will not be very helpful in the next 30 minutes, because there is no way that you are going to let them pay for anything, not with these prices. At the far left corner of the restaurant you can see Wanda and Natasha chatting between each other, their hands together on the table, Natasha is lightly smoothing her wifes hand with her thumb, laughing at something she said. It's the first time they don't seem like big, scary rich assholes, more human than before. You are afraid, or maybe you are sure it's going to drop as soon as they are going to see you. First to notice you is Natasha, she lets go of Wandas hand and stands up to greet you. You don't want to make a scene in the restaurant, so you kiss her cheek as her hand lingers on your waist and you do the same with Wanda. Looking at them, seeing how dressed up they are, you are glad that Darcy made you wear the clothes she prepared, if you would dress yourself, you would for sure stand out, not in a good way. You take your place on an empty chair when Wanda starts speaking to you. 

“I hope you didn't have any problems finding us?” She sounds soft, soft enough for you to find it degrading. 

“Except not knowing your last names it was pretty easy.” You say in a rough voice and that makes Natasha look back to the man that brought you to the table. 

“You didn't have you, I gave him clear instructions. It's not that hard to do the only thing you are here for. I'm going to talk to him.” She drops the napkin on an empty table and stands up. You are not sure how you find your voice, maybe it's the nervous atmosphere that Natasha is adding to, or maybe your empathy for a fellow customer service worker, but you speak up.

“Sit down!” To your surprise, she does with a shocked face, while her wife laughs a little. 

“Can we just order and get this over with? It feels like work.” You ask and that makes Wanda look at you quizzingly. 

“What do you mean baby? Get it over with?” You put down the menu that you were reading and look her in the eyes.

“I promised Darcy that I will be here for at least half an hour. It started five minutes ago and I'm counting the time. I didn't want to be here and I found out just when she dropped me off that I'm meeting with you both.” She looks hurt and you need to address that before it gets more messy, even more that Natasha looks angry. You look between them and continue.

“Look-” You run your hand on your face, as it is supposed to take off the worry. “-I’m sorry, but i'm not looking for dates, or relationships. Any kind of relationship.” You say pointing your finger between them. 

“Can we just spend this 25 minutes talking or whatever and I promise you won’t have to waste any more time on me.” That makes Wanda's face soften. She looks like she is about to say something but Natasha cuts in. 

“Sure, let's just order something.” In the next three minutes you placed an order and as much as they pursued you to get something to eat you didn't get anything. You got a coffee which cost twenty five dollars. You regret that decision, thinking that you would be okay with the tap water. Your stomach starts to hurt with how empty it is and all the smells are affecting it in a horrible way. Wanda and Natasha placed their orders and food came in faster then it took to order it. They are really at the top in this restaurant. They start eating while you enjoy your coffee. Wanda tries to start a light conversation, to make it a little bit less awkward for all of you. 

“So Yn, Darcy told us you were working today, was it a good shift?” 

“Decent, I got my first article to do a final edit to.” You say and take a sip of coffee, looking at Wanda enjoying her pasta alfredo. You feel yourself salivating and you probably look too long at her food, because it makes her wonder if you actually want anything.

“Yn, are you sure you are not hungry?” Wanda says and her wife finally joins the conversation.

“We know we picked an expensive restaurant, let us get you something to eat sugar.” She is about to call the waiter to the table again. 

“No. No, Natasha no, I'm really okay. Please don’t.” She looks at you, deeply studying your eyes, knowing that you are doing that because you are uncomfortable with the prices, but still she doesn't want to go against you, as much as she wishes she could. With each passing time she spends with you, she realizes that you can be destructive for yourself, and she would gladly take that away from you. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket but you decide to keep it there for the next fifteen minutes. Time feels like it stretches itself, making you feel like it has been over an hour. You keep your fingers on the brim of your coffee mug, trying to make your legs stop shaking, and your muscles twitching. It's not that you are nervous, you are past that, but your medication is wearing off and you can feel it. At this time you would either take a second dose if you were at work, or with your friends, or just people in general, or you would take some actions to make yourself comfortable. Caffeine doesn't help, and it was a bad idea as it just makes you more and more sleepy with every second. Your left hand is laying on the table and the tablecloth feels awful against your fingertips. Material feels like it lingers on your skin even after you pick your hand up, it's too soft and too harsh at the same time, like a used sandpaper sheet. You wish you could pick your hand up but you can't. It feels embarrassing to do so, not because of the action but because of the reason to do so, so you force yourself to keep it that way. Only fifteen minutes longer. It feels like you said it to yourself an hour ago but with the time speed in your brain, it was only a minute. You are physically restraining yourself from counting seconds, numbers help you stay sane but you can't do that right now, if you would, everything that two woman in front of you are speaking about would go into the void, and as a center of entertainment for them right now you can’t allow yourself to drift off, they would notice. Clutter of silverware feels like it's happening at the front part of your skull, Lady at the table on your right has some good insights about new generations of doctors, she is a doctor too, she has her id clipped to her bag. Man to whom she is speaking is sweating a lot, he is nervous and it seems like they are on a date. One girl, a waiter, has had enough of today, she stands at the corner next to the bar, nobody can see her, or maybe nobody just pays attention, except you. Sometimes putting on a work uniform equals disappearing. She is running her hands on her thighs, looking up to the ceiling, she tries to stop crying. That makes you look around the room, a man in a big suit is red on his face, he was just yelling, or arguing since you didn't hear anything before. He shoves food into his mouth like it's going to calm his nerves. 

“Are you even listening?” Natasha calls out and just then her voice breaks through all the loud noise around you. 

“Hm? I'm sorry I just-” 

“Wasn't listening. Look, I understand you don't want to be here, but a little decency wouldn't hurt you. We are trying hard to get to know you, not use you, not sponsor you, not even embarrass you, just get to know you. I don't understand what's so awful about it.” She throws a napkin at the table and stands up. 

“I need to use the restroom, I'll be right back.” She looks at her wife when she speaks, she is mad, you didn't mean to make her mad, or disappointed, you really do appreciate the interest. 

“Nat, I really didn't mean to- '' You are trying to defend yourself but she is already gone, you lie your head low and massage your traps with your hands, it's painful but helpful. You get this uneasy feeling inside your stomach and you can't say if that's the lack of food or the nerves. Just then you realize that you picked your hand up from uncomfortable table cloth and you make a mental note not to put it down at the same place. 

Wanda swallows the food she just finished, your time is almost up and you are grateful for it, even more that since the moment you went into the restaurant you were doing nothing more but disappointing everybody, including yourself. You decide to speak to her, maybe try to explain yourself a little why you are acting that way. 

“Im sorry Wanda.” 

“I know.” A moment of silence lingers between you when she grabs her wine glass, not taking her back off of her chair, stretching her arm out. 

“I'm sorry about her, I’ m not saying she is not right yn, i feel the same way, but my wife is just very frustrated by you.” You hang your head low, like a child being scolded, you tell yourself that you shouldn't care about their opinion, but it matters, everybody's opinion matters and you hate that about yourself. 

“I wasn't aware that I was that irritating for her. That's just an additional reason for why you shouldn't waste your time on me Wanda.” She smiles at you and shakes her head. 

“Sexually frustrated Yn, emotionally frustrated. She really wants to get to know you, and she is being on her best behavior holding back every second we are spending with you.” That makes you even more confused. 

“What do you mean?”

“You are a precious one aren't you?” This time you can be sure it was degrading.You straighten up your posture. 

“That little stunt you did at the party?” She leans in, making you once again lost in the smell of her perfumes. You don't say anything but she can see on your face how oblivious you are. 

“You remember that moment when Natasha went to you to simply try and devour you? That little stunt you pulled with her belt? Please you had to see her reaction, she has the same look every time she looks at you, and to be honest i don't blame her. I had a fun night thanks to you baby, it's a shame you weren't there.” She finishes the sentence and then her wine. You feel like you have finished all the air, it's hard to breathe and it's too warm, and you don't understand those feelings, they put you in a fight or flight state, but at the same time you are glued to the chair, not able to move. Wanda puts her hand on yours and interlocks your fingers, you are not able to stop her or yourself. 

“Yn, breath.” She looks a little worried but at the same time highly entertained. 

“What's going on?” Natasha comes back to the table and her voice brings you back and makes you let go of Wanda’s hand like it's burning you. 

“Oh nothing love, I just told Yn how much fun I had because of her after the party.” 

“Wanda-” Natasha says in a scolding way, seeing the state Wanda put you in. “- I apologize for my wife's sugar. Sometimes she can't keep her mouth shut.” Their holding hands and being so tender with each other, it makes you feel like an intruder. 

“I thought you like it wide open.” Wanda's comment makes you choke on your coffee and it goes down the wrong pipe, sending you into a coughing spree. A girl, the waiter you saw before comes right in to check on you. You assure her that everything is okay, but she still leaves a glass of water for you on the side, sending you a warm smile.  Wanda and Natasha cut the topic seeing in what way it's affecting you and you fall into light conversation for the last couple of minutes. You ask them about work and they can't say much other than it’s classified sounding like from csi miami series, but either way you are very much interested in stories they encounter while being at work. 

Your phone vibrates a couple of more times and at the fifth time you can’t not pick it up. You assume who is trying to reach you but as you pull your phone out of the inside pocket in your jacket you can see that you were very wrong. You have ten messages and five missed calls, all from Shuri, and she never calls you. You immediately get this worried look and they can see it.

“What's going on Yn?”

“Is everything okay?” You don't even pick your head up to look at them. 

“I'm sorry I need to call back. I'm sorry.” You dial Shuri on your phone and call her back without getting up from the table. You just turn your body side to them to get a little bit more private. She pics up after two dial tones. 

“Shuri!? Is everything okay? What's going on?” You are holding your phone with your right hand and playing with the rings on your left hand. Your voice is low trying not to disturb anybody's dinner or conversations, fortunately your table is far enough from others. Natasha and Wanda pay close attention to you, their hands together in a caring manner. 

“Now?” You ask and look at your watch. 

“I'm really far away from the city-” You pinch your nose with your fingers. 

“- I can try to call a cab-” A moment of silence from your side let's Wanda slip a fast question. 

“Is something wrong?” She whispers to you laying her hand on the table close to you. You look at her apologetically. 

“-it's not about the money Shuri. I'm just limited right now. How much time do I have? An hour? Okay, yeah I'm going to figure something out, don't worry about it I got you, just send me the location.” With that you hang up the phone and start looking around to collect your things, which you don't have because everything is in your coat. You look at them and you don't know what to say, you are just about to cut short a 30 minute meeting in which you already disappointed them so much. They are both worried that much you can say but Natsaha is definitely clenching her jaw, it's not a good sign. You try to find in yourself the right words to turn them down one last time, but you can't, not with this level of stress. 

“I need to go.” You stand up looking between both of them. You take thirty dollars from your pocket and put it under your coffee mug. 

“I'm sorry.” With that you leave them and don't provide them any explanation, to be honest they didn't ask. You move into the exit and wait a second for the man to give you your, actually Carol’s coat. You thank him and go outside trying to figure out what you are going to do. 

Natasha and Wanda, a little disappointed with how things went, decided to finish dinner and head home. Fifteen minutes after you left they exit the restaurant and wait for their car to be brought. Just as they receive keys from the worker they hear a loud conversation on the side of the building. Natasha looks around the corner and sees you packing around with your phone in your ear, for a second she thinks about leaving you but her wife walks past her towards you. 

“I understand but I don't have enough cash! You know how far it is, i can cash app the money whats the problem?! No don’t- . Ugh!” Clearly someone hung up on you. You are looking at your phone typing aggressively, you seem worried out of your mind. 

“Okay Yn what's going on?” Wanda asks when her wife joins her and you are surprised to see them. You take a second before you reply.

“I can’t find a cab, it's nothing really. Again sorry it turned out this way.” Your phone rings again and you pick it up so fast that the second ring tone doesnt come. 

“Yes, yes I called. I need a cab to the city center-” You pace around not being able to stay in place, even more that you just got this feeling in your legs that you can't describe. Each night before sleep, when your medicine wears off completely your legs have this tingly feeling, like slight electric shocking waves going through your muscles. It's nothing pleasant. Usually a hot shower helps but the alternative is just to keep moving, so that's what you do. 

“- HOW MUCH? Okay yeah, yeah you too.” You sit down, cross legged at the curb, your left palm is open while your right is holding the phone, lightly tapping it on your left. Natasha crouches in front of you and tries to catch eye contact. You don't look up so she snatches the phone from your palm. 

“Hey!” You reach to grab it back but she already gave it to Wanda that stands behind her. 

“Tell us what's wrong, sugar?” You look between them, they look at you gently, worried, trying to read your expressions while you are breathing heavily with stress, your upper back is tense and you would love to shake it off of you. Without giving them too much information you speak up. 

“I need to pick up someone from the city center and I should be there-'' You look at your watch trying to figure out how much time passed from your conversation with Shuri. “- in forty minutes. I called a couple of companies but they either don't have anybody in the area, or they don't have a cash app and I don't have that much cash on me.” You explain carefully, trying hard not to sound crazy or overemotional, even if you feel your body shaking. Natasha is standing up, it makes you feel like she is hovering above you, and you don't have energy to fight for your phone. To your surprise she stretches her hand towards you and helps you stand up. You follow, and the feeling of her skin on yours is very different from Wandas. It's hard to tell if that's a good or a bad thing. With both of them your whole relationship, if you can even call seeing them three times, a relationship, you had an off feeling but at the same time some connection that wanted to be made. 

“Come on, we’re gonna drive you.” Natasha says with her face straight, she takes the space leaving no room for you to decline. You are in the tight spot, Shuri is counting on you and you are needed, there is a big possibility you won't be able to do this without their help, and oh god how much you hate it. 

“No, i'm going to- i will-” Wanda interrupts your protest already opening the front passenger door for you. 

“You will do what? You are out of options, Yn. Get in.” And you do, with her hand on the small of your back you take the space next to Natasha. For a second you are confused about why you are sitting in the front seat. 

“ Tell me where to go.” Natsaha doesn't even take a look at you, she seems pissed and you don't blame her, you would probably hate yourself in their position. ruining the date, making them do something for you, ruining their day schedule. They both probably have a thousand better places to be right now, and they are stuck with you. Awkwardness of the situation doesn't help the anxiety you have about the passing time, you are scared of running late, always, but in this situation even more. After giving them the address and helping with directions from time to time you are 5 minutes away from your destination. 

“So who is Shuri?” Wanda asks from the back seat, taking your focus off of the road in front of you. 

“Oh she studies at the university with me, she is Tony Stark’s best student.” You explain briefly. 

“That Stark? What a small world.” Natasha comments taking a fast look at her wife in the back mirror. 

“ That's nice, baby, but I meant who is she to you.” Are you imagining things or does she sound jealous? You can't help but wonder. You are not sure what makes you open up in front of them in any way, but you do. 

“She is my-” you make a little pause, wondering what words you should use. “-friend, a really good friend.” 

“Hm a really good one you say?” Wanda is pushing you a little bit trying to bring some more information out of you. 

“Yeah, we were together for two years, she is like family to me. Actually her whole family kind of took me in, as a part of them.” Too much Yn, too much, You bite your tongue, probably a little too late, you are mad at yourself for revealing that much about your past, to total strangers. That was always an issue for you, if someone was willing to listen you were eager to talk. That's unfortunately not a safe thing to do, at least usually. 

“So we went out to pick up your ex?” Natasha is straight forward, and strangely you respect that. At that moment you arrive in front of elementary school. 

“Actually no.” You answer quickly and get out of the car, looking straight at the little boy waiting with his teacher near the gate. You walk in their direction. 

“JUNIOR!” You yell out for him and the moment he sees you, his backpack is on the ground and he runs into your direction. You catch him into your arms and spin him around as he hugs himself close to your neck, securing his legs around your torso. You walk still holding him up to pick up his backpack. You didn't realize that both Natasha and Wanda got out of the car and were approaching you. 

“It's been a while since we saw you miss Yn. Have a nice day.” Teacher sends Junior T’Challa a wave and goes back into the building. You are written down on the list to pick up Shuri’s nephew. It's not the first time for you to do that, but it's true that it's been a while. Boy refuses to let you go as you try to pick up his backpack. Before you can do it, struggling a little bit Natasha snatches it from the ground looking down at you. 

“Yn? Who is that?” Junior asks you and to be honest you hoped that they would already leave. 

“This is Natasha and Wanda, they drove me here, which I'm very thankful for, but now they have to go. Right?” You hope that the hint is not too small. 

“Actually we have the whole day reserved for you Yn. You and this little boy now.” 

“Im T'Challa Junior.” He says proudly, getting out of your arms at the same time. 

“It's Shuris nephew.” You kneel down, fixing his jacket. The water proof material got stuck in the zipper. You take the piece out and zip it all the way up, trying to keep him nice and warm. 

“She got stuck with Profesor Stark.” Boy gets visibly sad after that information. You are thinking for a second if you should do something with him, or just get him home and take care of your responsibilities, which to be honest are piling up. You got three texts about essays that are needed for tomorrow. All for the same class and the same topic, which is the worst case scenario for you. 

“Don't worry, Yn here is actually taking you to the theme park. We are going to have a lot of fun.” Natasha throws information out of nowhere, without asking you, giving you any heads up, and taking full control over the situation, and you thought for a split second to get violent with her. How dare she use a little boy's emotions against you? Yes, sure, it's a nice thing to do, but you told them specifically that you don't have too much time, that you have half an hour for them and that's it, that you don't want to be near them or do more than necessary to keep your promise. Which part of that she didn't get? Wanda notices how angry you got after her wife’s idea, and as much as she thinks about resolving this issue, this also might be a good idea to show you that they are not so bad. She kneels down next to you to get to the boys and your eye level, her eyes are soft, apologetic almost. 

“It's going to be fun, Yn. You’ll see.” Junior gets excited and follows Natasha to the car, you are right behind them with wanda. How are you supposed to take happiness out of his hands? You are not a monster. 

“Cheer up Yn.” Wanda is walking on a very thin line. 

“Cheer down Wanda, this is hopefully the last time I have to see you both.” Leaving shocked Wanda behind, you get into the place with Junior on the back and let Natasha decide where to go. Make him happy, and survive. That's all that matters right now. You would give your life for this boy, what's one day, even if it means you staying up all night to catch up with your work, because of course you agreed to take those additional papers for tomorrow. You need money, lots of it, so you need to work… a lot. Just as you were getting nervous about it and your bank account your phone started going off with text messages. One after another, drilling a hole in your calmness. You don't even read them, you decide to call right away and you can't be bothered enough that you are not alone. 

“What do you want?” Wanda looks at you worried, but smiles at the little boy to keep him calm. 

“No.” Some arguing can be heard through the phone on the other side of the call. Even when you put it on the lowest volume, it's so loud that they can hear. 

“You do want me to starve, don't you?... At the end of the week, that's all I have to say to you. Leave me alone.” You finish your call and mute your phone, of course after filing Darcy and Shuri up on what's happening and where are you going. Wanda and Natasha didn't ask, hoping you will explain what the call was about, it didn't sound good. 

The rest of the day passed good but horrible slowly. Junior had so much fun, riding with Natasha and playing games with Wanda, or sitting down and eating corn dogs with you. Seeing him happy makes you happy, but the mental load that you are carrying with you is heavy enough that you can't relax or enjoy this for even a second. Going through stuff in your head is a normal thing for you, but at the end of the day, when you're actually sitting down to do what you have to do you feel like you went through the same task five times already. It's simply dreadful, not mentioning the lack of any satisfaction when you are actually done. 

Shuri tells you that she is already home, Junior is tired, and you are also so ready to go home. You asked Natasha and Wanda, who were trying so, so, so hard to get to you in any way, that it was irritating at some point, to give T'Challa a ride. Normally you would feel bad about it but it was their idea in the first place. 

Shuris home is a little bit outside of the city, not far from the subway thankfully. When Natasha parks her car at the side of the street, you collect your bag and get out of the car. Walking to the other side of it you zip your jacket up, goosebumps all over your body, reminding you physically how cold it is at this time of year. Street lights give off your favorite time of the day vibe, even if it's far till three am. You open the door on the right side and slowly unbuckle Junior from the seat. 

“Don’t.” You tell Wanda, seeing her undoing her seatbelt, also to go out and help you. Surprisingly she listens to you. You take the boy into your arms and let him hug you half asleep, you hold him up with your right hand and take his backpack with your left. It's heavier than it looks. Actually they both are, or maybe you are just really tired, it's been a long day. you go to the gate with him and Wanda and Natasha are watching your every move. You ring the bell at the gate and later the main doors are open. Two people go out of the house, the older woman takes the boy from your hands and the younger takes the back pack. Redheads can't hear a thing but they can see you talking with the younger woman. 

“I don't know how to thank you. He texted me half way throughout the day, how much he missed you and how much fun he is having.” Shuri is so genuine with you, she always was, pretty tough sometimes, but always real, and you respect that. 

“You know I love this boy, he is family.”

“And you are ours Yn. You have always been, and you will always be a part of this family.” These cheesy moments between you two is not something any of you are used to, even when you were together,” i love you” sounded more like a, “bye i see you later”, rather than “my heart is with you every second when we are apart”. Romanticizing your life much? Maybe, but how can you not, when you want to survive in this world, with your heart intact. Shuri hugs you for a goodbye, and gives you a light kiss on the cheek, which does not go unnoticed by your dates. 

“I don't like it, Wanda.” 

“Would you calm down Nat? You did everything today to push her away, and each moment I've been trying to fix the situation that YOU created, you were shutting me up.” That accusation is shocking for Natasha, and she will not back down from defending herself, even if it's coming from her wife. She almost starts talking again, giving her piece of thoughts on the topic, but she sees you walk away and that takes priority at this second. 

“We are going to talk about it at home.” She points her finger at Wanda, her voice sounds like flowing out through clenched teeth, and she is definitely not agreeing with Wanda. She doesn't even point out to her wife what's happening, she just goes out of the car and walks fast after you, Wanda confused but right at her heels. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” The force with which you turn around makes Natsaha stop immediately. Your eyes are dark, your jaw is clenched, as well as your fists. 

“Natasha, calm down!” Wanda joins you at the side of the road, it's really quiet in this neighborhood, the only sound slicing the silence is the roaring of the car that was left with the engine running. You pinch the bridge of your nose, irritation, exhaustion, this feeling of wasted day get to you, overstretching your patience to the fucking limits. You don’t care, you can’t find in yourself to care, and your promise was fulfilled. You respect and love Carol, but it doesn't mean that you have to feel the same way about her friends. 

“What are you, five?” This is definitely not something they expected of you. Even everything they have heard about you, always patient, collected, good, the view in front of them doesn't fit any of this. 

“How dare you deciding about my day, my plans, and using feelings of a little boy to get me to do something, just because your fucking ego is bruised?” Natasha makes a step to your direction, bringing her finger up to defend herself and her wife. 

“No! I'm not done!” Taken aback she doesn't interrupt you. As horrible Wanda feels about making you feel this way it's really interesting for her to see someone putting her wife into place. 

“For the whole day you are talking so much, about wanting to get to know me, getting close to me, but you did absolutely nothing to make me feel comfortable in your presence. When you gave me the ride, seeing the position i was in, i though, just for a second, this can be good, we can try this out,  and then…then you took your fucking place and made me feel like i have no say in my life.” 

“You are being so dramatic Yn! We gave you and this boy a great day, you should be grateful!” Natasha had enough. 

“I have a test tomorrow, an article to edit, and three essays to write, that should be done by now. And no, I don't have a second deadline, I don't have more time, and I will have to stay up all night, without sleep to get everything done on time. In the morning I have work, then a test at university and then my shift at the bar! You thought I had thirty minutes with you for fun? If that means that im being dramatic then fucking yes, I am dramatic!”

“You are working too much.” Wanda comments with this horribly soft voice of her, condescending reasoning, like it's so simple for her, like she can solve all your issues, if you are just willing to give them all control over your life. You scoff at her like she said something funny. Natasha takes out her wallet, and takes out  two thousand in cash, you never saw this amount of money in cash, well maybe once when you were working in black. 

“Is this enough to buy your time? Your pride? Is that enough for you to get over yourself and let someone take care of you or at least fucking try?” She steps close to you, so close that you feel warmth coming from her body, creating too much of a contrast with the weather, you feel sick. Wanda grabbed her wife's hand, but it wasn't enough to stop her from speaking a couple words too much. You look at the money in Nat’s hand. Couple of papers that would solve your issues for at least two months, something that means nothing to her, that she has too much of, something that would save you. The control that it has over you is not fair, but life isn’t fair, it never was, it never will be, and you are highly aware of it. You look her in the eyes, and you grab at the last bits of your control, pride you have for yourself, those bits of respect that you are trying to save.

“You ignorant fuck, you really dont get any of this do you? Fuck you Natasha.” You leave them and start your long way home, this was a mistake, and you are glad that it's over, finally you can focus on yourself again. All they did since the day you met them is make your life fall apart with every way imaginable. It's good that it's over Yn, you tell yourself and enter the subway, already starting writing your first essay on your phone, the topic power laughing at you, as the universe decided that you are its best comedy. 

Next chapter

tag list : @autorasexy @lizziejolsen @natashaswife4125 @sayah13 @romanoffskisser @lijo-8 @jjiiuuisssagcebrcw @natashaswife4125 @dumbassbitchwithnotits @teenybean, @marvelwomen-simp, @ripofflizzie

[hogwartsandhawkins]

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 13: The 13th

If you need to catchup, here's the masterlist.

Summary: Watching a horror movie with Billy goes better than expected

Warnings: Cursing, Slight angst for a millisecond, Mentions of blood and gore (from the movie they watch), mentions of death (again from the movie). As always let me know if I missed something.

Word Count:4k

Author's note: Sorry this post came late loves! My son got sick so that was fun to take care of. But good news, because I slacked you guys get two chapters this weekend 🤗

Also, as someone who also isn't a big horror fan, I watched this movie as homework and surprisingly, completely straight-faced this entire movie. Guess Billy's right, it was kind of cheesy 😂

Billy climbed his way to Jess’s bedroom with ease this time. With the knowledge that Jess’s parents were not directly below her, he took less care about whether or not he was silent and instead jumped quickly from the trash can to the last quoins, lifting himself over the gutters where he found himself once again in front of her draped covered window. He tapped the glass lightly and was immediately met by a still annoyed Jess opening the pane and quickly walking away. She was now wearing a faded cheer sweatshirt and a pair of cloth shorts. He looked over at the sickly green atrocity that held her TV just above her bed level, the VHS sitting on top of it. Her bed was littered with snacks, some from the store and some that she seemed to have provided herself, Billy taking note of the stack of brownies, which he hoped were as good as last time he snuck into her room. 

She seemed to be pacing before he got there and was continuing to do so as he arrived. “Please tell me you’re not serious about wanting to be here for Christmas.” 

“Doesn’t really look like that’s up to me. What? You don’t want me over? Where’s your holiday spirit, princess?” Before he knew it, a Charleston Chew bar hit him in the chest. 

“For once, be serious. Steve is gonna be there. And I don’t want to deal with the two of you bickering like an old married couple.” 

Billy picked up the candy bar and tossed it back on the bed, grinning to himself. “I’ll behave if he does.” 

Jess stopped pacing and turned to him. “Right, because he’s the one I should be worried about.” Jess recalled earlier today how Billy purposefully blew smoke in Steve’s face right before successfully irritating Steve with the thought of him spending all winter break with her. 

Billy walked over to the side of the bed he usually sat on and pushed the assortment of food to the other side and sat down, kicking off his shoes as he did so. He sucked in his cheek and bit down, contorting his mouth in a downward smirk. “Don’t gotta worry about me, sweetheart. I’ll be an absolute angel. Call it an early Christmas gift.” 

Jess considered his promise for a moment, her eyes traveling from his smile to his eyes, which gave off a hint of playfulness but no level of insincerity. “I always have to worry about you,” she huffed before settling down on the opposite side of the bed, pushing snacks closer to Billy. 

“That’s cute of you,” Billy teased before eyeing the cans of beer that were at the foot of her bed. He leaned forward and grabbed the pack, twisting a can out of the plastic ring that held it secure to the other five. He swiftly cracked it open and took a swig from it, earning him another annoyed glance from Jess. “What? You want one, Logan?” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? You’re cute when you’re drunk.” 

The mention of her being intoxicated began to stir the memories from that last weekend, how she spent the majority of her night with Billy, and how that night ended. She began to feel light-headed from the memory of how close she stood to him towards the end of that song, how she was practically leaning against him for support. She was brought back to reality by the bed shifting, Billy placing the remaining five cans underneath her bed. “Let’s get this show on the road, princess. Not tryna keep you up all night…” 

Jess shoved him, making his beer slosh. 

“Aye watch it…” 

She made her way toward her TV, taking her time to put the VHS in, not in a hurry to start hiding under her covers the whole time. She looked over the cover, “Friday the 13th, The Final Chapter…” Jess scoffed, placing the tape in the player. “Billy, I swear if this is as bad as the first one-“ She was quickly cut off by the tape being played where it was last on, causing Jess to jump at the sight of Jason killing the hitchhiker on the side of the road. 

“Oohhh shit!” Billy laughed out, taking another sip of his beer before swinging his legs off the bed and quickly making his way to where Jess was standing. He watched her close her eyes, turning away from the TV as the ominous music played. “Go back to the bed, princess, I got it.” He squatted down, pressing the rewind button on the VCR as he stared down the TV, waiting til he heard a click, indicating it was done. 

He turned back around to find Jess already underneath her blanket, the top of it bunched up by her mouth with her hands. He smirked down at her, able to see her eyes squint up at him in irritation. “Don’t worry, it’s honestly not that bad. I chose the cheesiest one of the two. Promise.” He chuckled as he made his way to her light switch, flipping it off, and began to sit back down on his side of the bed, deciding to take a brownie as adjusted himself back against the headboard. 

Jess’s glare softened as he joined her on the bed. “You’ve seen this before?” Billy only nodded, turning his head to the side to look over at her, smiling for a moment before looking back over at the screen. 

They stayed that way as the movie started, Jess bunching the blanket over her face, Billy smiling to himself as he continued to look over at her, sipping his beer contently. Billy felt the blanket shift suddenly, suggesting to him that the sight of Jason’s hand falling free from the stretcher startled her. He bit down into his brownie and smirked to himself, swallowed, and then turned to look back at her once more. “If it makes you feel better, Logan, we’re not out camping right now so it can’t happen to us.”

“Yeah. Great. Thanks.”

Billy chuckled out loud, looking down at the load of snacks that separated the two of them, silently cursing the barrier as he sat up straighter. He picked up the Charleston Chew that was thrown at him and tossed it on her lap. 

“Eat a candy bar, you’ll feel better.” 

Jess smiled lightly, grabbing the bar from her lap and slowly unwrapping it, not taking her eyes off the screen, lifting her knees to her chest. Billy continued to look from the snacks to her, watching the way the shifting lights from the screen illuminated her features, the way she cautiously bit into her snack, pausing with it still in her mouth when she was preparing for something that could possibly scare her. He continued to smile to himself as he noticed the way she squinted her left eye more than her right when she braced for oncoming jump scares and the way she slowly began to relax more throughout the movie. When they watched the hitchhiker get stabbed for the second time that night, Billy finally summoned the courage to start moving the snacks. 

The rustling of the wrappers being moved made Jess finally remove her eyes from the screen and look over at the cause of the noise. He moved the bags of chips to the nightstand closest to him, along with the baked goods, seeing as he was the only one eating those, leaving the assorted candy bars where they were for Jess. 

“What’re you doin’?” 

“Making more room.” Billy shrugged as he coolly answered. He then playfully tossed the rest of the candy onto her lap when she didn’t make a move to remove them from the middle of the bed. “Think those belong to you.”

“Yeah, so did those-” She was now pointing at the Doritos that Billy had already moved, but then quickly shifted back her attention toward the TV when she heard a twig snap. “Oh, don’t walk alone…” 

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t die. Yet.”

“Billy…” He only laughed in response but stopped immediately when she looked more annoyed than scared. 

“Hey, I’m just kidding.” He scooted inches closer to her, the snacks no longer blocking his way. When she didn’t say anything in response, he offered, “You want me to turn it off?” He continued to look down at her, his tone was serious and softer than it had been tonight, which caused Jess to look up at him. 

She furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of him and then began to shake her head. “No…” She then looked back at the TV for only a moment, “I guess you’re right, it’s not as bad as I thought it was gonna be.” When she turned to face him again, she noticed the smirk he was now giving her and rolled her eyes. 

“See what happens when you try new things, Logan?”

“It’s still bad,” she rebutted. “And by the way. I do watch horror movies. I just don’t like them.”

“Whatever you say, gorgeous.” He then reached for the Dorito bag that he placed on top of the nightstand and moved it to the opposite side of Jess, where it wasn’t separating the two of them, making it a point to reach behind her as he did so. When the chips were secured next to her, he allowed his hand to linger longer than needed before resting his arm above the pillow she was leaning against. He cracked his knuckles nervously, his arm tensing up every time Jess shifted. 

Get it together, Hargrove. He cursed himself, attempting to look down at her without her noticing, but she was too busy noticing the way her body burned at the close proximity to his, attempting to free herself from the blanket without making it too obvious it was now causing her to overheat. When she could have sworn she was beginning to sweat, she jumped up suddenly. 

“Bathroom…” was all she said, assuming the word would explain itself. 

Billy sucked in before clearing his throat. “You want me to pause it?”

“God no,” she laughed out, exiting the room before the TV became too bright and he was able to see the strong blush that she knew currently covered her entire face. Billy chugged what remained of his now warm beer once Jess was clear of the room, hoping maybe it would loosen him up slightly. But unfortunately, he knew it would take a lot more than one beer to do that, and he would definitely like to stay sober while he was with her, at least in her bedroom. 

When he heard footsteps reappear in the hallway, a mischievous grin appeared on his face as he got up from the bed and walked to the door just as she opened it, grabbing her hips as he scared her, believing all she would do was jump. When she let out a loud, short scream, however, he quickly widened his eyes and placed his hand over her mouth, chuckling quietly.

“Shit, Logan.”

Jess smacked his chest, causing Billy slowly to take his hand off of her face. 

“Dammit, Billy, if my parents heard me…” She was answered by the sound of a door creaking open and the shuffle of footsteps. She pushed Billy further into her room as she stepped back into the hallway and found Stan at the bottom of the stairs. 

“You okay, kid?” 

“Uh. Yeah. Just watching some stupid scary movie. Sorry.” She looked back into her bedroom for only a moment, but enough to see Billy’s smirk growing on his face. 

Stan Logan gave her a strained look, but then shrugged his shoulders and turned away from the stairs, “Keep it down next time kid, it’s the middle of the night.” 

“Sorry,” she then turned to look back at Billy before she continued, “It won’t happen again.” 

She made it back into her room and shut the door behind her, refusing to break eye contact. “You absolute asshole!” she hissed, picking up another uneaten candy bar and chucking it at him, which he easily swatted away as he laughed, attempting to be quieter. 

“How was I supposed to know you’d scream like that?” 

“It’s like you want to get me into trouble.” She shook her head in exasperation, but when Billy could only laugh at the incident, it caused her to break into a smile as well, which she attempted to hold back once it appeared. “It’s not funny!” Her giggling, however, said otherwise, and she rolled her eyes once more, plopping down on her bed as Billy sprawled out on his side, now taking the candy that was thrown at him and opening it for himself. 

The sound of glass breaking made both of them turn their heads back to the screen as they watched some poor girl get thrown from the top story onto a car by Jason, making Jess cringe. 

“So they’re just all dying at once now, huh?” 

“Typically how it goes,” Billy answered, biting into the candy bar and quickly swallowing, “Surprised she didn’t survive that.”

“She was thrown out of a window!” 

Billy just shrugged nonchalantly, “Eh, the car cushioned her fall.” Billy then turned back and smiled at her, taking another bite. 

“The car cushioned-“ Instead of finishing this sentence, she shook her head in disbelief and began laughing even harder. “You’re insane.”

“I’d survive that fall.”

“Sure you would, tough guy.” 

Billy scooted his way closer as they continued watching the movie, making the excuse that Jess was ‘hogging the chips’. Jess stopped feeling the need to shield herself from the jump scares and gory scenes as Billy continued to make jokes and ridicule how each character handled the situation, making her laugh as if she were watching a comedy. By the end of the movie, Billy was practically leaning against Jess as he continued to eat more chips than he wanted. 

“So what did you think, princess? Not that bad huh?” 

Jess shook her head slowly. “No, not that bad.” 

Billy beamed at her then tapped her leg with his hand before climbing over her, swinging his legs off her side of the bed, and heading to the door. 

“Bathroom’s this way, right?” He asked as he pointed in the right direction. 

“Yes, just please be quiet.”

“You got it, Princess.”

While he was gone, Jess took the time to remove the wrappers and crumbs from her bed, getting back under the covers as Billy was reentering the room. 

“Alright, Logan.” He climbed over her again to make it to his side of the bed and then sprawled out, laying his head on one of the pillows, “Goodnight.”

“You think so, huh?” 

“What?” He then looked at her with feigning surprise. “You wanna sleep all by yourself tonight? I guess you’re a big girl after all.”

“Shut up.”

Billy relaxed against the pillow he was lying on and moved his gaze to the ceiling and quickly changed the subject. “So have you seen the other ones?”

“Just the first one. Like I said, I’m not into scaring myself for fun.”

“You know what that means…” Billy nudged her side as he continued staring up, the solid blue light from the screen softly illuminating the room. “We gotta go on a marathon.” 

“That is not what that means,” Jess responded, also settling into bed, lifting the covers so that it barely covered her chin.

“I thought you said it wasn’t that bad,” he teased, shifting his head so he could look at her. Her eyes met his, rolling to the side before looking back at him, peering at him through her eyelashes, making Billy feel as if his chest would explode if he didn’t look away. Despite his whole body pleading with him to turn away, he kept his eyes fixed on hers as he continued. “I’ll tell you what,” he smiled deviously at her, “we switch off. You show me one of your lame chick flicks, and then we’ll watch the first Friday movie, yeah?” 

“First of all,” Jess pulled the covers back down to her chest so she could prop herself up with her elbow, “they’re not lame, and second, I’ve already seen the first one.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem to see it again.” Billy continued to stare at her, challenging her to accept. He also moved to incline himself, taking his pillow and folding it in half. 

“Fine. But after Friday the 13th, we’re done with horror movies.”

“Unless I make you like them.” Billy widened his smile, opening his mouth a bit to allow his tongue to run along the bottom row of his teeth. 

“Yeah right,” Jess scoffed, scrunching her eyebrows in disbelief.

“You seemed to like this one just fine.

“That’s only because you’re-“ She stopped abruptly, not allowing herself to finish that sentence, but when she looked over the expression Billy was making, the way his smile dropped and his eyes squinted, she knew she had to say something. “It’s only because you were making fun of it.”

Billy’s smile returned, but not as wide as it was earlier. “Then I’ll make sure to do the same thing next time.” He winked at her, settling into his folded pillow as he listened to her complain about how much she was going to hate this upcoming movie marathon, and how scared she was to watch the other two she hadn’t seen yet. But he knew better. He had watched how comfortable she had gotten after the first 30 minutes, watched how her shoulders stopped tensing. He liked to think he maybe had something to do with it, or maybe it was just the fact that he did pick the corniest movie out of the two. 

He wondered what would have happened if he had picked a different movie, a more frightening one. Would she have cowered under her blanket the whole time? Would she have cowered behind him? He quickly shook the ‘what ifs’ away. He knew that’s not how he wanted this night to go. He didn’t want to be the default guy she cuddled next to, didn’t want her to feel like she had to get close to him. This was the same reason he didn’t fight Steve about taking her home so early into the party. And he knew this was why he chose this franchise of horror movies to introduce her to. 

He continued to listen to her talk about all the movies she would make him watch. She figured she might show him the Star Wars movies since he was so adamant about making her watch a franchise as well, which he just scoffed at, but he knew watching some weird sci/fi films wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if it were with her. 

They continued changing topics for hours, whether it be about movies, school, and again about California until the conversation moved to the party that was being thrown on New Year’s Eve. 

“You’re going right?” 

“If Steve goes, yeah.”

“Why does it matter if Steve goes? You didn’t even hang out with him last time.”

“Steve happens to be my ride. And plus, I normally hang out with him. He was just busy last time.”

“Yeah, I saw,” Billy replied bitterly, “You forget I have a car or something?”

Jess looked at him interrogatively, “You’d want to take me?”

“If you need a ride, I can give you a ride.”

“That’s not what I was asking.” 

“Sounds like what you were asking.”

Jess sucked in and sighed, folding her pillow in half as well now and laying into it as her eyes started to get heavy. “I mean,” she paused for a moment, knowing exactly what she meant, just not how to say it, “I mean… everyone’s gonna be there. And everyone’s gonna see you taking me to this party. It’s not just you taking me to school anymore.” 

“And?”

“You want people to see me in your car?”

Billy shook his head and chuckled sarcastically, “Seems like you’re the one who’s worried about it, not me.”

“No that’s not…” Jess began to backtrack but paused. He was right, she was worried about it, but not in the way that he thought. It was when Billy began to get up that she started to speak again. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s hella late, and I’m falling asleep.” He began to grab for his jacket that was on the floor next to his side of the bed, holding it at his side as he turned to face Jess again. “Look, if you don’t want me to give you a ride, then I won’t, that’s all you had to say. You don’t need to go into some lame excuse about how I don’t want to-“

“That’s not what I meant...” Billy stood there, continuing to look at her, finally shrugging his shoulders, exaggerating the movement as to tell her to keep going. “It’s just. Your friends don’t like me, okay? And I already had trouble when you first started taking me to school and-“

“Who gave you trouble?” Billy quickly interrupted, seemingly unamused by this bit of information. 

“That’s not the point nor does it matter…” She sighed one last time, “The point is, I don’t want to be the talk of the school again, especially if your friends are the ones doing the talking.”

Billy took this into consideration, nodding as she finished, he then looked down at the ground, pondering what to say next, and looked back at her. “You know, Carol’s just bitter you don’t talk to her anymore. She doesn’t hate you.”

“That’s not really the vibe I get.”

“So who’s giving you trouble then, because I know it’s not Carol, she talks but she wouldn’t come at you directly. And Tommy really couldn’t give a shit.” Billy tossed his jacket down again and sat back on the bed, folding his left leg under him as his right hung off the edge. 

“Who do you think?” When Billy continued to stare at her, just about ordering her to give him an answer with the raise of his eyebrows, she scoffed, “Your girlfriend, that’s who.” 

Billy began to shake his head, laughing coldly at the news. “Which one?” he teased before releasing his downturned smirk, “Next time just tell her to fuck off.”

“I did.”

Billy nudged her lightly, conveying his approval. “That’s my girl.”

“It doesn’t make it any more fun though.”

“Getting to tell Jane to fuck off isn’t fun?”

Jess laughed at this, nodding her head in agreeance. “I meant the being talked about part.”

“Yeah, well, fuck ‘em.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? ‘Fuck ‘em’?”

“I’m starting to.” Billy drew a short, loud breath threw his nose, nodding slowly as he turned away from her for a moment. “It took me a while to get there but… yeah. Fuck ‘em all.” 

Jess giggled at this statement, relaxing her shoulders at the thought of not having a care in the world of what others thought. “So is that why you’re such an asshole?” Jess teased, earning a snort from Billy. 

“Nah,” Billy paused, staring at the foot of her bed, “No that’s not why…” He then tilted his head to look over at her, the light from the screen casting still shadows on her face. He smiled more to himself than at her before lying back down on the pillow that was now partially unfolded.

“I thought you were tired?”

“I am,” he said flatly. 

“I thought you were leaving?”

“That’s because I was irritated, and now I’m not.” When she didn’t respond he tilted his head and asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No…” she whispered suddenly. 

“Good. Because I don’t want to either.”

Taglist: @nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore @ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo @axionn @defenslessheart-main @the-lost-are-ignored

[negandarylsatisfaction]

[SUMMARY: Negan and Glenn’s sister grow feelings for one another without her knowing who Negan truly is or what he has done.]

Negan froze at the very familiar name you mentioned. He cleared his throat as you opened the book and slowly turned the page. Negan never knew you had a brother….much less that his name was Glenn.

Negan and Cindy

Negan was now apart of a group you had been staying with for the past year. Neither of you knew much about each other but it was clear the two of you enjoyed spending time with one another. Week after week looking for one another, feelings grew.

Negan had a past just as you did, but neither of you spoke of it and you liked it better that way.

That afternoon Negan sat with you to eat like he usually did. The two of you would take breaks around the same time to accompany each other and talk.

“I have a little something for you” Negan proceeded to pull out something wrapped in a blue cloth. Unwrapping it slowly he revealed a book.

“Oh, you got me a gift” you responded playfully with a smile.

“Mhm” he smirked proudly as he handed you the book.

“Oh…” the look in your eyes instantly dropping, he furrowed his brows not sure why the sudden change of expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just-“

“You don’t like it”

“This was my brothers favorite book” you whispered, a faint smile appearing on your lips as your hands brushed down the cover. Negan looked down at you with a sigh.

“I’m sorry-“

“It’s ok, it’s nice to have some reminders of Glenn” Negan froze at the very familiar name you mentioned. He cleared his throat as you opened the book and slowly turned the page. Negan never knew you had a brother….much less that his name was Glenn.

“Glenn” Negan repeated in a hoarse tone making you look up.

“Yes…I don’t speak of him much…he was killed seven years ago..” you looked down at the book.

“His wife explained to me what happened but…I still don’t know who did it. She never liked mentioning his name…I don’t even know what happened to her..” you looked up with a sarcastic laugh.

“What’s new though right?” you turned another page as Negans jaw clenched. His body tensing with the information he was just given.

How the hell could it be?

Negan had no knowledge of having any other family but Maggie.

“Sorry…didn’t mean to ruin this surprise” you looked up noticing an almost disturbed look in his eyes.

“You ok?” You placed your hand on his making him quickly pull away.

“I need a drink” he abruptly stood up walking towards the bar your sanctuary was lucky enough to have. You stared at him confused as you grabbed the book and quickly followed.

Negan grabbed a bottle pouring himself whiskey chugging it down quickly.

“Negan-I’m sorry” you caught up to him.

“I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. I love the book”

“You didn’t ruin a thing, doll” he responded without looking back at you taking another quick chug.

“So then look at me” you watched as Negans broad shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath. He couldn’t bring it upon himself to look you in your innocent brown eyes knowing what he had done. Knowing you wouldn’t want anything to do with him if you knew the truth.

Without saying a word he stood up and left the room with all strength he had, refusing to look back at you. Your heart felt as if it sunk deeply into the pit of your stomach. There was no explanation as to what made him suddenly act this way. After many weeks of getting to know one another, spending time together, this was a side of him you weren’t familiar with.

You refused to let it end this way.

Barging into his bedroom you found Negan looking out his window brushing his hand through his hair. He almost seemed stressed.

“What the hell are you doing?” He turned to you as you shut the door behind you.

“What the hell did I do? And don’t tell me nothing because clearly there’s somethig”

Negan sighed.

“You didn’t do a thing, sweetheart”

“So why are you acting weird after you gave me this book?”

He couldn’t find the words to say as you looked up at him clearly upset. The slight scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brows, your hand on your hip, there he was distracted again by any little move you made.

“Cindy. You should leave” his voice was low.

“I’m not leaving” you responded, he pressed his lips together clearly frustrated that you wouldn’t listen.

“It’s for your own good”

“What the hell would you know what’s good for me?” Even through all the attitude and stubbornness, he couldn’t help but be caught up in the intense attraction he had for you. All he could do was stare down at you with so much going through his mind at once.

“Oh you have nothing to say now, huh?” You tilted your head looking up at him when he suddenly grabbed your face and kissed you. His body pushing you against the wall as you wrapped your arms around him. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this with what he knew but fuck, it was hard to ignore how much he wanted you. You let him kiss you as his lips trailed to your neck making you moan.

“God damn you, why couldn’t you just listen to me?” He whispered as his hands roamed down your body. His lips never leaving yours as you both fell onto the bed together removing one another’s clothing.

Sex with Negan was like nothing you had felt before. He was passionate yet dominating, his hands holding your hands down as he nibbled on your earlobe. Your body ached to feel him closer, closing your legs around him tightly, Negan swore right then and there he would cum. Each touch sending shivers through your body, you had wanted this for so long.

Once he finished you could feel his heart racing against your chest, his panting against your ear.

“Fuck” he suddenly uttered but his tone confused you. It wasn’t a curse of satisfaction, it almost sounded like regret.

“What’s the matter?” You asked as he lifted his head to look down at you.

“Nothing, doll” but you could see it in his eyes.

“You didn’t want to do this?”

“Of course I fucking did” before you could say another word he kissed you gently. The guilt Negan felt in that moment he knew he deserved to feel.

He fucked up and there was no going back.

The thought eating up at him he abruptly stood up and began to get dressed.

“Where are you going?”

“I gotta go” was all he could say as you sat up.

“I’m in your room Negan. Where on earth could you be possibly going?”

“Look-“ he stopped to turn back to you as he buttoned his pants.

“I’ll be back alright. Just give me a damn minute” he walked out leaving you in his bed confused and upset all over again.

Deciding to leave his room, you didn’t care if he was coming back. It wasn’t fair for him to continue acting this way without any proper explanation. Heading to your room you locked the door and got into bed, you had enough for the day.

Once Negan returned to his room, he was disappointed but not surprised to find you had left. He looked at his bed and cursed at himself, throwing his jacket against the wall. Negan hated his past and now it had come back to haunt him.

The next few days you went about your duties at the sanctuary helping clean up around the town.

A little over a week had passed and you hadn’t said a word to Negan, it angered you that he didn’t have a word to say himself. You stood on your side beginning to work as Negan was across from you in a baseball cap. You turned the opposite way, ignoring his presence he looked up at you and instantly tensed up.

Digging through the dirt to plant some crops you felt his eyes on you but you didn’t dare to look up.

“Cindy” hearing his voice unexpectedly caused you to freeze.

“Cindy..look at me” you could hear the regret in his voice, he knew he was wrong.

“Now you have something to say?” You looked up at him with hurt in your eyes.

“Look-“

“Look nothing. If you wanted to just fuck me you could’ve told me that, I’m not a little girl. But playing this whole game acting like you cared-“

“It wasn’t a game” he quickly defended himself.

“I wasn’t just trying to fuck you, that’s not what this is” he insisted.

“I don’t care what this is or was anymore. I’m over it” you lied as you reached in your bag.

“Here, you can take this gift back. Give it to the next woman you want to fool” you threw the book he gave you at his chest and walked away.

Tears streaming down your face, you hated that you had any feelings towards him. Wiping them away you ran into one of the leaders who expressed there would be a new group that would be joining.

A man, a boy and two women.

You were asked to prepare spare rooms and did as you were told happily to distract yourself.

A few hours later you were told the new comers had arrived, it being your job to show them the town and their rooms you waited by the gates when a very familiar face came out of the car. The sun in your eyes you placed your hand over your brows when the woman looked back at you making direct contact.

“M-Maggie?” You whispered in shock before realizing a young boy stood before her. You hadnt seen Hershel since he was four.

“Cindy” she ran to you with Hershel as tears welled up in both your eyes.

The two of you had so much to catch up on. So distracted with Maggie and Hershel you hadn’t thought of Negan. Hershel colored on the floor as Maggie and you sat at the table in your bedroom having a drink when you heard a sudden knock. You sighed as you stood up and opened the door to see it was Negan. Maggie’s cup slipped right from her hands as she stood in shock with who was before her.

“What the hell is he doing here?” You looked at Maggie confused.

“You know him?”

“Cindy get away from him” She responded, her eyes never leaving Negan.

“Maggie what is it?” You looked at her confused before looking back at Negan. Shock and guilt in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“Cindy-“ he took a step towards you.

“You back away from her now” Maggie interrupted.

“What the hell is going on?!” You looked back at Maggie. Anger like you had never seen before, rage in her eyes as she stood with her hands balled into fists at her sides.

“You didn’t think to tell her about Glenn, did you?” Her words making your heart skip a beat.

“Glenn?” You whispered as your eyes met Negans.

With just that look you knew…

“It was you..” you felt as if you couldn’t move, your chest felt tight as you placed your hand over your heart looking away. You felt numb, this couldn’t be it, could it? The man who had feelings for being your brothers killer?

“Cindy..” you looked up at him to see eyes of defeat.

“You knew..” you whispered.

“No…no I didn’t know until you mentioned him-“

“Don’t believe a word he says, it’s all apart of his sick game.” Maggie rushed behind you. Negan wouldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Cindy I swear I didn’t know at first”

“That’s why you acted like that after I mentioned him” you chuckled sarcastically in disbelief.

“I slept with you and….and you-“ covering your lips in disgust you shook your head. You couldn’t believe yourself.

You couldn’t believe him.

As shock subsided an anger like you had never felt before grew inside you. Anger that burned in the pit of your stomach, anger you couldn’t control you suddenly looked up and with both fists shoved Negan back.

“Get out!” He stumbled a step back with the same look of guilt.

“Cindy-“

“You heard her-“ Maggie stood in front of you blocking Negans view of you. He looked down at Maggie taking a deep breath before she slammed the door in his face.

Turning to find Hershel watching all that had just occurred, Maggie pulled you to the corner of the room as you began to cry. Negan could hear your cries standing just outside the door.

Disappointed in himself was an understatement..

“I trusted him Maggie, I trusted him!” You angrily whispered.

“You didn’t know” she attempted to comfort you.

“But he did…how could he be so…-“

“Evil? I’ve asked myself everyday“ Maggie placed her back pack on.

“Tomorrow we’ll talk to the leaders here and they’ll have him removed and I’ll be outside waiting for him” she explained making you raise a brow.

“Waiting for him for what?”

Maggie stopped in her tracks, looking up at you as if she expected you to know.

“Cindy…I’m not letting him get away again.”

“So you’re gonna kill him?” You whispered.

“Of course. It’s been too long-“

“But Maggie-“

“He killed your brother, don’t tell me you’re having an ounce of sympathy for this monster.” She quickly snapped. The truth was, you were angry, you were hurt, a part of you wanted to attack him yourself but…a tiny piece of you couldn’t simply shut off the feelings you had for him.

God you wish you could.

“What, you wanna let your brothers killer walk?”

“I know-“ you caught yourself getting loud and composed yourself.

“I know he killed my brother, Maggie. You don’t have to keep emphasizing that and I’m not saying to let him walk”

“Then what are you saying, because the look in your eyes is telling me your not in this and this ain’t right coming from you. You shouldn't second guess anything.” You rubbed your face in frustration not knowing what the hell to say.

“I don’t know dammit,”

“Well when you decide whether you want to stand for your brother or not you let me know.” She turned away from you as if you were no longer in the room. Angrily you walked out slamming the door and headed to your room.

This couldn’t be real, a man who you were sharing laughs with, time with…a man you grew to care for..he was responsible for Glenn’s death. The book Negan gifted you sitting on your nightstand, you threw it across the room when you heard a knock. You sighed, the last thing you wanted was to hear anymore lectures from Maggie.

“Maggie I already told you-“ you opened the door stunned to see Negan. Your lips parted in shock before you abruptly tried to slam the door shut just as he stopped it with his boot.

“Get out!” You screamed slamming the door again as he pushed it back with his hands.

“I just want to talk god dammit!”

“So you force yourself into my room” you backed away from the door as he let himself in.

“The only time I can actually talk to you with out your-“

“My brothers wife?”

Negan took a deep breath with furrowed brows.

“Look, you have every reason to never want to see me again but I only found out after I gave you the book.”

“And you still slept with me…knowing..” your voice shook in anger.

“Nothing can change what I did seven years ago but I promise you I’m not that man anymore, my feelings for you are real if it counts for anything. I know you don’t want to see me, I just needed you to know I’m sorry even if you never forgive me. I never meant to hurt you, Cindy.”

“Too late for that.” You whispered looking away.

“Cindy-“

“Get out Negan” your voice was calm but he knew you meant it. Without saying another word Negan turned to leave, opening the door you were both surprised to see Maggie standing on the other end.

“Magg-“

“I see you’ve made you decision, Cindy” Maggie ignored Negan before her looking at you in the back of the room.

“I haven’t made any decision, Maggie”

“Oh, it’s clear you have” she turned to Negan.

“And it’s a shame you let a monster manipulate you over your own brother.”

“That is not true!” You began to get upset walking towards the door but Negan didn’t move, standing between you both hearing what Maggie had to say.

“Oh yes it is. You should be ashamed of yourself, you don’t even know this man…God knows how youll end up if you stay with him-“

“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” Negan stepped forward tilting his head but Maggie stood her ground.

“Oh please-“ she began to laugh sarcastically.

“She’s in for misery and suffering if she stays with you, we’ve all seen what you’re capable of.”

“You think I’d hurt her?” He furrowed his brows.

Maggie silently shrugged her shoulders.

“You just better hope she’s not in the crossfire when I get to dealing with you because I won’t care who I have to get through to hurt you.”

Negan squinted his eyes staring down at Maggie, another step towards her.

“And you think I’d allow that to happen?”

You stood silently behind him hearing what was said.

Maggie didn’t respond, rolling her eyes she turned away and walked back to her room. Negan turned to you as you looked away.

“You can leave” you almost struggled to say…clearly apart of you not feeling this way. Negan didn’t fight your request.

“I’m not gonna let her drag you in the middle of this, her problem is with me, not you, Cindy. I won’t let that happen.” He assured you before leaving you at the door. Quickly you closed it unsure of what to feel at this point. None of this was right, none of this was fair…all you knew was that there was no easy decision to make.

[myfanstories]

My sweet, sweet Snow

~ Jake Seresin (hangman) x fem!reader (Snow White)

Summary: Snow White has always spend her birthday alone, no one could convince her to let go of the pathetic tradition, not even her best friends... but she's willing to give up her tradition to spend time with her not so boyfriend, but also boyfriend Hangman. Except he doesnt make a move to plan something for her birthday... or so she thinks. Because while Snow is sulking on her birthday all day, Hangman is trying his hardest to give her the birthday surprise she will hopefully always remember.

A/N: I've recently become obsessed with Top Gun and I couldnt get this off my mind!! Its based of one of my favorite new girl scenes :) Also English isnt my first language so I apologise for any mistakes. And also this is just pure fluff it made me sick... I might open my requests for a while but just for topgun but idk, kinda scared so feel free to give me some feedback!!

“Got anything planned for your birthday tomorrow, Snow?” looking up at Mickey, you sighed lightly, shaking your head no and giving him a sheepish smile “No, I’m not really a birthday party kinda person so I think I’ll just do what I always do. But thanks for remembering that its my birthday tomor-” a deep groan sounded from beside you and as you look up looked at Rooster he rolled his eyes at you, hard. As you played with the rim of your drink, a soft laugh escaped your lips “What?” Rooster looked at Mickey and sighed “Ever since I’ve known our precious Snow White over here, she does the same freaking thing for her birthday. I’ve known you for what, like 4 years now?” “5” You corrected as he pointed a finger at you “5 years now and we’ve never celebrated your birthday together… you always do the same thing” leaning back in your chair Mickey looked at you with a confused but curious look on his face “Which is?” and just as you were about to reveal your annual birthy tradition, a deep and confident voice spoke from beside you “Going to the movies, eating nacho’s covered in spicy salsa, salty popcorn and a large diet coke on the side” looking up, Hangman winked at you “Snow White please, just for once.. let us plan something for you” Rooster begged “Well I think its kinda cute” Mickey shot back and you lightly slapped your hands on the table they were sitting at “Thank you Fanboy” a soft wince escaped fanboy’s lips “But its also very pathetic” a soft blow landed on Fanboy’s shoulder as he jumped back slightly with a laugh, just avoiding the second round of slaps as you raised your hand again “I just like my little tradition okay? Growing up I always got my hopes high for my birthday but when my parents failed to provide each year I made an agreement with myself to let my birthday be a little self pity party” you explained “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a refill”

As the young aviator stood up and walked over to the bar Rooster turned to Hangman with a slight smile on his face “She doesnt have a single clue about the surprise party tomorrow its gonna be great man” Hangman let his gaze fall on the girl at the bar, just as you turned back to him shooting him a wink, waiting for your drink “You think she’ll like it?” Ever since that one faithful and drunken night a couple weeks ago (where a ridiculous amount of tequila had been involved which led to a very sloppy, drunken but very real kiss) you and Hangman were attached to the hip. There was no denying the two of you were ever anything less then hopelessly in love with each other and it turns out tequila was all the liquid courage both of you needed “I’m not gonna lie, I think she might pass out” Phoenix added as she joined the small group, Mickey cleared his throat as a sign you were walking back from the bar and Rooster quickly picked up a conversation with Phoenix and Fanboy as Hangman put his arm out for the girl to walk into, you gladly accepted his offer with a smile and leaned into his side. Since that first kiss you both obviously knew you liked each other… a lot. But you cant escape the elephant in the room, one Hangman was slowly starting to pick up on “You good?” He questioned and you nodded, removing a few misplaced hairs from his forehead “Perfect” Hangman leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the side of your head as a tiny blush formed on your cheeks “Gross, Hangman as your boyfriend is the biggest ick I’ve ever seen” Rooster commented and you rolled your eyes jokingly “He’s not my boyfriend” you spoke, turning to Hangman who had a confused but amused look on his face “they just dont get it” “Why would they?” Hangman agreed with a soft laugh “You sleep at mine tonight, right baby?” You asked, earning a laugh from the group “Ofcourse baby” Rooster made a gagging noise as Hangman pulled you closer to him. Smiling at him your heart couldnt help but ache a little. He may act like your boyfriend, treat you like his girlfriend but every day you’re confronted with the fact that you’ve never had the “what are we” talk. Sure, the person currently in space could see how in love the man was with you but still… a little reassurance from time to time would be nice.. it also didnt help the fact he hasnt once asked you if you would maybe consider spending your birthday with him instead of going to the movies alone.

After a few more hours of laughs and a couple more drinks you and Hangman decided to call it a night and head back to your place.

Turning off the light in the bathroom you made your way over to the bed. Crawling next to Jake who was on his side, with his back turned to you scrolling on his phone. A loud squeel you never expected to come out of Jake’s mouth escaped his lips as you placed your hands against his bare waist. Pausing for a second, you blinked a couple of times before a loud laugh sounded from your mouth “what was that?!” “Your hands woman! They’re so cold” you continued laughing as you curled yourself up next to him “Oh yeah? Wait till you feel my feet” and just as he was about to protest your feet made contact against his back and he quickly turned around, pushing you away slightly as another squeel escaped him. Your laugh’s were cut off by a gasp from Hangman as he looked over at the nightstand next to you “What?” You questioned, looking over to see the time on the tiny clock places on a stack of books next to you. You read the time and a small smile made its way to your face, 00:02. As your face was being pampered with kisses you couldnt help but giggle as Hangmans hand was wrapped slightly around your throat to keep your head in place. He paused for a second, hand still in the same position and looked you at you with sparkling eyes “Happy birthday my sweet sweet Snow” you smiled wide “Thank you my sweet sweet Hangman” leaning in he placed a very soft kiss on your lips, one you could only describe as one full of love but the loving kiss quickly turned into a more deeper, passionate one. You could feel the grip Jake had on your neck get a little thighter and you couldn’t help yourself as a soft moan escaped your lips. And lets just say, after that… you might have had the best start of a birthday in a very very long time.

Morning came way quicker than you had anticipated when a slight shift in the bed made you open your eyes. They quickly closed again, not having the strenght to get up yet but then sound of your phone dragged you out of your sleepy state. Grabbing your phone, you tapped on the screen revealing the time, 9:23. You groaned softly and rolled over to the side, expecting Jake to be snoring next to you softly but you were met with an empty left side. Tapping your phone again you could see you already had 6 messages in your Dagger Squad group chat, one from Penny, a missed call from your mom and a message from your brother. Just as you were about to open the text chat of you and Jake his name popped up on top of your screen. You sighed as you read the message.

Jake<3: got called into base last minute… see you after work???

You: Oh?? Something I can help with?

Jake<3: No, I’m with Javy and Mav!! What time does your movie start again?

You: starts at 5

Jake<3: okay my sweet girl!!! Enjoy the movie and I’ll drop by after okay? Happy bday ❤️❤️❤️

Opening the squad’s groupchat you smiled at all the kind and somewhat inappropriate birthday messages from some people.

And to think this time for the last couple of years you were bawling your eyes out first thing in the morning… you couldn’t actually remember the last time you felt somewhat happy on your birthday but this group, this family, they were something else. Something worth smiling on your birthday for. The only thing bothering you right now was the fact that Jake wasnt here. You obviously didnt expect him to stay with you all day, but you also kind of expected him to have something planned for your birthday. But then again, this was a good reminder to yourself that your birthday was still the most lonely day of the year for you and it honestly didnt feel like it was gonna change soon. On the other hand, you were glad Jake was respecting the wishes he thought you had, which was to be alone, and then meet up later. But little did you know Jake was currently freaking out because someone decided to fuck up the birthday cake.

“You had one job Rooster… one job” Payback hissed as he looked over his shoulder seeing Jake walk over to them “I’m sorry okay?! I must have send the bakery the wrong picture” Jake frowned at the sight in front of him as Payback and Rooster obviously had a frustrating and hushed conversation going on “Everything okay here?” Payback pinched the bridge of his nose and Rooster swallowed hard “I’m sorry” he whispered, opening the box of the cake to reveal it to the aviator in front of him who’s smile dropped in an instant at the sight in front of him “Rooster” Bradley hummed in response, suddenly afraid to speak up “Walk away please” Hangmans tone was calm, way too calm “Look we can-“ “Walk away please I’m so serious or I’m gonna hurt you” Rooster lowered his head in defeat, earning a pat from Payback on his back as he left the two men standing there “Payback… what are our bare asses doing on Snow's birthday cake” he could recognize the picture from a mile away because he too was butt ass naked in the picture, in fact if it wasnt a birthday cake for the love of his life he would have thought this was freaking hilarious and would be on the floor, howling “We’ll just cover the butts with some frosting its fine” Payback quickly responded “Ayo! Decorations are ready, Phoenix has the hard drive and Bob is-“ Javy’s voice suddenly went quiet as he looked at the cake on the table “If you laugh, I will sucker punch you” Jake warned and Javy slapped his hand on his mouth to keep himself from laughing and cleared his throat “Thats so fucked up man” his voice cracking at the end of his sentence as Jake slowly turned his head to his Wingman “Fix. It” he growled before turning his back on the two men and walking away. Grabbing his phone out of his backpocket he noticed a few texts from the birthday girl but as he was about to answer he passed Rooster “Chill out man its gonna b- oomph” a loud groan escaped Rooster’s lips as Jake punched him square in the sack. Falling on his knees he winced slightly, speaking up with a squeeky voice “I deserved that”

Time passed slowly today as you finally made your way to the downtown theatre, a sigh softly escaped your lips as the girl on the other side of the phone made her last attempt to get you to come out with her “We’ll celebrate it another time, its fine!” You spoke into the phone, just as you paused in front of the steps of the cinema “And honestly.. I think this is gonna sound ridiculous but.. I kind of had my hopes up that I would be spending the day with Jake you know. But then again, he’s not my boyfriend so I dont know why I got my hopes up in the first place” “Okay first of all, its not ridiculous. I too would expect my BOYFRIEND to plan something for me, so I would be frustrated as well” Phoenix put extra emphasis on the word boyfriend, making you smile “Second of all, he is your freaking boyfriend! I jokingly overheard him calling you his wife to some of the student aviators the other day but honestly I don’t really think he was joking that much. But if its that important to you that you officially put labels on it, why dont you just ask him?” “I dont know Nix.. anyway, I’m at the movies right now. I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” As they bid their goodbye’s to each other, you made your way to the front of the cinema. Paying for your ticket, grabbing your snacks of choice you found a good seat not to close and not too far away from the big screen. You were kinda surprised the theatre would be this busy at 5 in the afternoon, but didnt put any further thought into it.

Looking at your phone one more time you noticed Jake didnt answer any of your text messages you send to him throughout the day, which kinda made your heart sink for a second. Turning it on silent, you sighed and popped a nacho in your mouth as the lights slightly dimmed and the screen lit up. A familiar voice suddenly boomed through the speakers and you almost spit out your drink as the face of the one and only Jake Seresin popped up on the screen “What?” You quietly mumbled, confusion taking over

“Hey Y/N, its Jake… you obviously know that but uh, I know this is what you do every year on your birthday by yourself but I just thought this year you might want a little company”

“You mind if I sit down?” Tearing your eyes away from the screen you looked up to see Jake standing next to you “Oh my god” you just whispered and he sat down, a smile on his face as he put his arm around you pulling you a bit closer. You interwined your right hand with the one he placed over your right shoulder and he gave it a light squeeze “Look under the seat and read the paper, I’ll wait” Movie-Jake called and you moved your snacks to the empty chair next to you and felt under the seat, reaching for a piece of paper “How did you know I was gonna sit here?” You whispered “We put one under every seat but you gotta go fast because of the timing” he whispered fast and you scanned the piece of paper in your hands “My name is Snow and I’m never afraid to deliver you a blow. I’m the best at dogfight and I cant see so lets turn on the light” suddenly the lights of the theathre went on and you were met with several people jumping up from their chair. A gasp escaped your lips as you scanned the room, tears slowly forming its way into your eyes. The dagger squad was here, throwing confetti at you while cheering. You also noticed Mav and Penny holding some balloons and even Hondo was here with a birthday hat on. You laughed at the sight of them and Jake stood up sushing them “Quiet! Quiet, timing guys” you locked eyes with Phoenix as they all sat back down again, the theatre lights dimming again and she winked at you.

Across the screen came with big letters “Happy birthday Snow” with snowflakes falling in the background on the screen, Roosters dramatic voice boomed through the speakers “In the beginning there was nothing and then there was light and dark and birds and oceans and stuff and then there was Y/N” fireworks popped up on the screen and you looked over at Rooster who was smiling proudly at the screen. Then suddenly Phoenix popped up

“What do I think when I think of Y/N?” It popped over to Bob “What do I think when I think of Y/N” then Mav “What do I think when I think of Y/N” and then Phoenix again “I think of warmth, dance parties, friendship, tequila and love, so much love. She’s my best friend and I thank my lucky stars everyday she walked into my life” silent tears were streaming down your face as you looked up at the screen in admiration. Coyote was next “Honestly, I just think of love. I remember hearing her call sign before I met her and I thought it meant she was cold as ice but turns out, she’s just a real life princess” “When I think of Y/N I think of uh- her eyes cuz she has glasses sometimes and uh she has the hair thing you know… I feel like I’m doing this wrong?” you laughed at Bob, whiping away some fallen tears “Snow does not like being tackled” Fanboy said earning a laugh from the theatre full of friends “When I think of her I just feel love, she never fails to make me smile and has been there for me every step of the way. Sometimes I dont think we deserve her. She takes care of us, will literally physically fight anyone for us and will never let me or the rest of the squad down. On the ground and in the air as my wingwoman. In a very platonic way, she’s the love of my life” Rooster said and now you were just full on sobbing as the rest of the messages played on the screen, but the best one was yet to come. Meanwhile Jake was looking over at you, his nerves were building up as he knew his message would pop up next. “Y/N, when I think of you I think of all the ways you have made all of us a better person. But especially me. The first time I knew I was a goner was when you threw your helmet at me when I left you hanging in the air on one of our first practice runs together. As you were screaming at me saying how I was selfish for putting the rest of the squad in danger I could only think of one thing and that was the fact I felt my heart stop for a moment and then my brain told my body, so this is what love feels like. I was also thinking about how hot you looked screaming at me but thats beside the point” soft laughs were heard from the audience as you shook your head “Y/N, my sweet sweet Snow, my love… you are the very not platonic love of my life and I pinch myself everyday because I still cannot believe I’m so lucky to call myself your boyfriend. Happy birthday” the lights went back on as the door to the theatre opened, Rooster walking in with a cake in his extended arms as the theatre began to stand up and sing for you. Jake stood up with a smile and turned to you but noticed you didnt move. Just staring at your hands as silent sobs escaped your body. Worried, he sat back down next to you and moved your hair out of the way with his one hand while grabbing your legs with the other “Hey? Everything okay?” He whispered, the people around you still wildly singing happy birthday. With teary eyes you looked up at him “You called yourself my boyfriend” you said between sobs and he chuckled lightly “I am your boyfriend” he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You threw your hands around his neck and pulled him into a very tight hug, still sniffing tears “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you” as you pulled back, you grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him hard. You could feel him smile into the kiss and as you let go he grabbed your hand and helped you stand up as Rooster made its way over to you with the birthday cake. You blew out the candles and while looking around the room, your heart was bursting with love as you scanned the people present. You truly had the best family in the entire world and no one could convince you otherwise

“Rooster, why is your bare ass staring at me on my birthday cake?”

[ughgoaway]

So glad that you’re feeling up to writing! Have we seen Matty and teacher’s first fight? Feeling angsty today. Or if you’re feeling more fluff, maybe first time they have to build something together and she’s trying to focus on the directions and well we know how that prob goes….

ahh, thank you, my love! and omg, I love both of these concepts, so I am gonna talk briefly about both of them hehehe.

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

The first fight would definitely be tour-related, I think. Matty is stressed at the idea of leaving you after you've only just got together. Time apart is hard for any relationship, let alone a new one. But Matty doesn't communicate that. He just mopes around and keeps on starting petty fights. He's trying to avoid you a little bit, too. If he starts spending less time with you now, then it won't be as bad when he really goes.

He thinks that if you're fighting before he leaves, he won't miss you as much, and it won't be as hard. He's wrong, of course, and if he said that to anyone, they would tell him that. But he hasn't told anyone that thought process because he knows that, and he needs to live in denial a little longer.

And if you're honest, you're freaking out, too. But in a very different way to Matty. You're just scared of how much you're gonna miss him. So you want to spend as much time with him as you can. Which doesn't work so well when he's trying to avoid you.

One week before tour is when it finally boils over. It's 11 pm. when Matty gets home, and you're kinda done with him. So you’re waiting on the sofa when he comes in. He drops his jacket on the kitchen chair and sits next to you with a huff, rubbing his eyes with his hands and sighing heavily. 

So, in the weeks coming up to the tour, it's weird. Matty is leaving home early and arriving late, claiming it is tour practice, but you know that the other boys are home way before him. You try to cuddle with him in bed, but he gives you a quick squeeze and rolls back over.

But you rationalise it to yourself by telling him he's more involved as a creative director, so maybe that's why he's home at odd times and is acting off. You choose to ignore the fact that he comes home smelling of wine and someone else's perfume.

You don't beat around the bush, “are you cheating on me.” You ask bluntly, facing Matty with a blank look on your face. 

Matty choked on the air immediately, coughing out his answer as quickly as he could, “What? No. why would you think that?” he looked at you with wide eyes, and he could tell you were on edge and trying to keep a strong facade up still.

“You've been avoiding me for weeks. You’re leaving for tour next week, and every time I try to spend time with you, you fob me off.” Matty tries to cut in and defend himself, but a sharp look from you shuts him up. 

“And you come home smelling like a bar and some random woman. So please, just be honest with me, Matty. I can't do this anymore. Im exhausted.” Your eyes are glassy with unshed tears. The wall you had tried to build was quickly crumbling as you just became more desperate for an explanation. 

Matty feels his heart shatter as soon as he sees the tears forming in your eyes, and he cracks immediately. “I promise im not cheating on you. I could never do that to you. I've just been freaking out about leaving you when I go on tour. I know my job is hard to cope with, and my leaving for months at a time doesn't help. It’s practically ruined every relationship I've ever had, and I just can't cope with losing you” Matty pours his heart out as he speaks, dropping his head in his hands and rubbing his face. "And it's just some random perfume I found in the studio, I was trying to cover up the fact that I've been chain smoking cigarettes. didn't want to freak you out."

“Oh,” Matty says dumbly, trying to process how you can always be so mature and adult in situations like this. 

You sigh in relief at his words, but can't help yourself from blueting out what you really think. “Well thats stupid.” You say bluntly. Matty shoots up and looks at you confused for a few seconds until you keep talking.

“Matty, I came into this relationship knowing what you do. I knew tour would happen, and I knew everything that would come with being with you. And I still wanted to, because I care about you.” You pull one of Matty's hands away from ringing together and hold it in your stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. 

“Yeah, oh,” you repeat, giggling at Matty's choice of words, or more choice of word. He smiles at your laughter and pulls you into his side. You settle in quite happily, laying your head on his chest and looking up at him. 

“M’sorry for freaking out on you. I can't promise it won't happen again, but I promise to talk to you about it if I do.” You nod at Matty, leaning up to peck his lips and coming back down with a content smile on your face. 

“Thats okay,” you start, “now. We have like 3 episodes of bake off to watch because you've been avoiding me, so can we watch them now? I want to see susan fuck up pastry week and laugh at her with you."

Matty laughs and nods happily, flicking on the tv and pulling a blanket over the both of you, humming as you both settle into the sofa.

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

Now, as far as building stuff together, I think you managed to avoid it for a good couple of years. Until you're pregnant, and it's time to build baby Healy’s nursery. 

Matty is on the floor and is flipping around the ikea booklet, trying to figure out which way is up. You're sitting on the chair behind him, trying to secretly google a YouTube tutorial despite his many protests. 

“Wait. That's part b? I thought that was part d?” You hear Matty mumble to himself, and you can't help but burst out laughing at his words. 

Matty looks at you, annoyed before whining and moving the floor to come and sit in front of you with the book in his hands. “You're a teacher. Can you teach me how to read again? Apparently, I've forgotten how.” he pouts and rests his head on your thigh, looking up at you with a mopey face. 

“Mm, im not sure I can. Why don't we just hire someone, baby? What's the point of being rich if you don't use your money to do things you don't wanna do” you say, stroking his hair and fiddling with the ringlets.

“But I wanna build it for them. For Annie, my dad built everything because I was busy freaking out every five minutes. Thought I could build something for this one” Matty explains, placing his hand on your bump.

You didn't actually need to build anything yet. You've still got almost half of your pregnancy left, so there's time. But when Matty puts his mind to something, he's doing it. 

You hum thoughtfully as Matty continues to stroke your bump, and suddenly, you feel a weird flutter you haven't felt before. You scrunch your face and look down to Matty, who is staring at your bump with wide eyes.

“Did you feel that too? It felt weird. Maybe my acid reflux is back or something” You had been having a hard time with heartburn your whole pregnancy, and assumed it was that again. But Matty sitting up and placing his ear against your stomach tells you it must be something different.

“What are you doing? Matty-” You try to figure out what your boyfriend is playing at, but Matty holds his hand up and shushes you. 

“Wait stop talking for a sec.” You pause and huff at being told not to talk, but that fluttery feeling comes again, and before you can question it, Matty pulls away from you with a gasp.

“They're kicking! That's what that feeling is. They're kicking. C'mon, feel.” Matty grabs your hand and holds it to your stomach, and soon enough, you feel a pair of tiny feet pressing against your hand.

Your jaw drops, and you look down at Matty, whose eyes are glassy. He has a massive smile on his face as he places his hand over yours, watching your bump as you both feel your baby kicking for the next 10 minutes. You are both silent apart from the odd gasp when you feel them kick again. 

Matty soon takes his hand off you and grabs the IKEA booklet again, determined to make this crib with no help. And you don't try and get him to give up this time, sitting back and watching happily as he sticks his tongue out to focus as he builds.

[kelyon]

Courtship 5: Outfit

Lacey figures out what she's going to wear on her date

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The pile of clothes covered Lacey’s twin bed. She’d spent the better part of an hour matching blouses with slacks with sweaters in a vain attempt to find the magic combination that would make her look less like the president of the student council and more like Mr. Gold’s perfect slut. 

Nothing worked. So far, her best options were to wear her summer sundress in the middle of winter with no coat, or to take a pair of scissors to the long black skirt she had worn to her mother’s funeral. That last one might have been an option, if she had a sewing machine like Mara. But she didn’t, and showing up at Mr. Gold’s house wearing unhemmed rags was probably as bad an idea as showing up wearing pants. If she had a sleeveless top, she might consider wearing the skirt as it was. She could try to go for a sort of hippy, Bohemian look. But the most revealing blouse Lacey French owned had puffed-up sleeves, like a fucking five-year-old. 

Groaning, she fell backwards onto the pile. Some of this stuff she had got in middle school. The fact that they still fit her had been an advantage every time she’d decided to spend her limited funds on books instead of clothes, but it also meant that Lacey had never aged up her personal style. She didn’t have anything that made her look or feel like an adult. 

The purple-blue dress shimmered in her dirty clothes hamper. She had jumped the gun by wearing her only sexy outfit on her first date with Mr. Gold. She had set the bar too high. Now he would have expectations of how Miss French liked to dress. More than that, Mr. Gold in his suits had standards. If she met him looking like a mess, he’d drive off and leave her on the curb.

At least he didn’t seem to mind if she left him looking like a mess. He hadn’t minded bringing her home with a wrinkled skirt and no stockings or underwear. She wanted that to happen again, but before it could, Lacey had to look presentable. None of her clothes were cutting it. She had to take action. 

She pulled a white button-up off the pile and rubbed a smear of foundation over her hickey. Then she went downstairs into the shop. Dad was sitting by the cash register, looking through a faded design book. 

Mom had known all the designs for bouquets and arrangements by heart, but Dad always needed to double check with the book. 

“Anything happen today?” Lacey asked.

He shook his head, didn’t look up.

“We should call up everyone who ordered from us last year and remind them that V-day is in less than three weeks.”

“They know,” he grumbled. “This time of year, no one has any money. The men at Fish King will get paid on Friday, that’s when the orders will start. But they won’t really pick up until the next payday, the eleventh.”

He was right. It happened like that every year. All the orders came in at the very last minute. Valentine’s Day weekend was two solid days of constant work getting everything put together. 

And it was too far away to do Lacey any good.   

“So I’m guessing this is not a good time to discuss the subject of me ever getting paid for the hours I put in?”

Her father looked at her like she had just told an offensive joke that wasn’t even funny. Had his eyes always been so bloodshot? Had he always looked like a sad cartoon dog?

“You keep your tips.” He looked down at the book again. “You have money when the store has money, when we’re not racking up daily fees from that bastard Gold.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Lacey rubbed her hands on her jeans. “Just thought I’d ask.”

Of course Dad didn’t have any money to give her. That was their whole problem. Game of Thorns was a family business, the only income any of them had. For as long as she’d worked in the store, her pay had come in the form of food and shelter. Her reward for helping keep the place open was that it stayed open. It might not have been unreasonable to ask for more, but she knew it was unattainable. 

“Ask again when Valentine’s is over,” Dad said. “We get out of this hole… I’ll try to make something work.”

She’d heard that before. Her father always had all kinds of plans and dreams for when things got better. Not that things ever did get better. Not that they ever would. The only thing worse than knowing that fact would be admitting it. So Lacey gave her father a tight smile and pretended she believed him, just like she always did.

****

She made her way over to Marine Automotive, where her Uncle Manny was locking the front doors from the outside. When he saw her loitering, he beamed.

“Hey! There’s my favorite niece!”

Uncle Manny looked like Dad if nothing bad had ever happened to him. He had the same height and stocky build. He had the same curly hair that was also the bane of Lacey’s existence. But where Moe French was loud when he was angry, Manny French was loud when he was happy--and he was always loud. He wrapped Lacey up in a bear hug.

“How you doing, Ace? What brings you by?”

She cut to the chase. “Are you going to the Rabbit Hole tonight?”

Her uncle wasn’t a huge drinker, but he was the only person Lacey knew who regularly went to Storybrooke's only bar.

“I wasn’t planning on it. They’re aren’t any games tonight. But I take it you need an escort?”

Lacey raised her shoulders in a half-apology. “They won’t let me in without a parent-slash-guardian.”

“Ah, to be young again!” Uncle Manny wrapped one arm around her. “You’ll miss it one of these days, I promise you. But yeah, we can have a night on the town. I’ll even buy you a Shirley Temple.”

“Oh come on,” she gave him a playful nudge. “I am an adult, even if I can’t drink. I should at least get a Coke and Coke.”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

****

The Rabbit Hole was dead. Between the lack of sports on TV and the town-wide lack of money until payday, most people were staying home. The only ones here were people like Leroy Miner, people who had nowhere else to go. Like the old song said, sharing a drink they called loneliness was better than drinking alone. 

Undeterred, Lacey took her uncle-approved non-alcoholic beverage over to the pool table by the fireplace. She took off her hoodie and unbuttoned her blouse a little. This whole thing was a risky move, but it was the best plan she had. Hustling pool paid off more often than it didn’t.  

Eyeing the room, she bent over the pool table, just far enough to get a little attention. She lined up a shot and missed on purpose.

“Oh crap!” she said too loudly. “Must not be my night.”

After ten minutes of staged failure, Lacey let herself land a shot. She squealed when the ball went into the pocket. The sound made people’s heads turn, and she treated them all to a too-wide, too-apologetic smile.

Only one person smiled back. Keith Sherwood turned on his bar stool to watch her. Lacey tried to remember her other encounters with Keith. Did he usually stare more at her ass or her boobs? For safety’s sake, she did both. She leaned far enough over the table that Keith could look down her cleavage, then moved around to the other side for the next shot. She stuck her ass in the air, practically humping the felt to keep his attention.

“Boys always make it look so easy,” she pouted after another ball just barely missed the pocket.

When Keith began to walk over to her, she turned her back to him. That way she could pretend to be surprised by his arrival. With careful concentration, Lacey managed to get a ball a full foot away from what anyone watching would have assumed was her target. It was actually harder to be bad on purpose, but it paid off.

“You having fun, sweet thing?” Keith leaned against the pool table, beer in hand, right in front of her.

Lacey giggled. “It’d be more fun if I had someone to play with.”

Keith chuckled. A lock of his hair fell down into his eyes. “I bet it would be. You had a lot of fun playing with me last time, didn’t you?”

How much money had she taken from Keith the last time she had tried this? Sometimes she got cocky and her marks got mad about being taken. Lacey couldn’t remember if she had ever crowed about fleecing Keith. Unfortunately, he probably did. 

She fluttered her eyelashes. “It was a lot of fun,” she cooed. “I think I got lucky that night.”

“I bet you’re gonna get lucky again.” He was standing too close to her. “I bet your luck will get better and better all night, especially when we start playing double or nothing.”

Crap. She had definitely rubbed Keith’s face in it last time. Now he was wise to her. That was the problem with a small town. Oh well, at least she’d tried.

“So is that a bet?” she said in her real voice. “Do you wanna put money down on whether or not I’m actually hustling you? Cuz I’ll take you up on that one.”

Keith shook his head. He put his hand down on top of hers on the edge of the pool table. He was still smiling.

“You know there’s another game we can play together. It’s a lot more fun than pool.”

Ugh.

Lacey backed away. “It might be fun for you, but I don’t think I’d get much out of it.”

He followed her. “How do you know? Maybe it’d be more fun if you hustled me. That’d make things interesting, wouldn’t it? Twenty bucks says I can make you see heaven.”

She snorted. “Did you just say you’ll pay to screw me?”

Keith kept smiling. “You were gonna screw me all over this table and take my money anyway. I like my version better.”

Lacey’s blood suddenly went cold. This wasn’t funny anymore. It wasn’t a game. This asshole would seriously give her money if she went home with him. It would be so easy to go along with it. Twenty dollars for two orgasms--his would be real, hers would be fake. 

Would that be enough to buy a new skirt? Was she seriously fucking considering this?

She clenched her jaw. 

“I’m not a fucking hooker, Keith.”

He raised his arms in a pacifying gesture. “No harm, no foul,” he said. “I just don’t see how it’s any different from taking a girl to dinner first. Man pays for sex either way.”

Turning away, she slid her pool cue back on the rack. 

“You’re a pig.”

“Go ahead, darlin’, keep talking dirty. See what happens.”

Lacey kept her head held high as she went back to the bar where her uncle was nursing a beer.

“I need to get out of here,” she told him.

“Sounds good.” Uncle Manny took out his wallet and tossed a few crumpled fives onto the bar. “I’ll walk you home.”

****

 Outside, Lacey pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her hoodie and hugged her arms over her chest. This stupid button down was too frumpy to make her sexy and too thin to keep her warm. 

“Pool wasn’t any good for you tonight?” Uncle Manny asked casually.

“No,” she admitted. “Fricking Keith threw me off my game.”

“What do you need money for anyway? That dad of yours not feeding you?”

“I need money cuz I don’t have any.” Lacey kicked at a chunk of dirty snow. “Nobody does.”

“I’ve got a little, for the smartest kid in Storybrooke.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “You wanna tell me what it’s for?”

Lacey bit the inside of her mouth. She didn’t want to lie to her uncle, but she sure as hell didn’t want to tell him the truth. She walked in silence for a minute. He stayed with her. Finally, she said it.

“I wanna get some new clothes.”

“Like a real coat?”

She shrugged. “I mean, maybe. I could. If I had enough.”

“And this is a sudden yearning that couldn’t wait?”

She shrugged again. There was nothing like being around a parent-slash-guardian to make her feel like a complete child.

“Ace, what’s going on?”

She took a breath. “I… don’t want to tell you.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Lacey French, if you’re doing things you don’t want people to know about, then you shouldn’t do them.”

“It’s nothing bad!” Lacey pushed him away. “It’s just… personal.”

“That’s not reassuring,” he said. “What’s going on? What do you need money for?”

“I told you, to buy clothes!”

“Clothes for what? You can tell me, Lacey. I’ll help you out if you’re honest.”

“I just want to look nice on a date!” She shrieked the words out into the night. They hung in the air with the cloud of her breath.

Uncle Manny looked at her, confused and sympathetic at the same time. Eventually, he broke out into a broad smile.

“But that’s great, honey! You should go on dates. Why-- why didn’t you say so to begin with?”

She pulled her hands up through the neck hole of her hoodie to rub her face.

“I’m… It’s because of who I’m going out with.”

Uncle Manny scoffed and put his arm around her as they walked. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of dating someone. Unless it’s someone you should be ashamed of, but then you just don’t date them. It’s not a girl, is it?”

Lacey shook her head, to which Uncle Manny nodded.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that, not in this modern world. You know I’m with you no matter what.”

She nodded. 

“And of course, no boy is ever going to be good enough for you. But as long as he’s not married, or some kind of asshole like that bastard Gold, there’s no reason to sneak around like--Lacey?”

She had stopped in her tracks. She looked up at her uncle and chewed on her lower lip.

Realization dawned. Uncle Manny let out a long breath. 

“Lace.” His voice was rough. “Tell me you’re dating a married man.”

Lips pressed together, she shook her head. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Standing in place, Uncle Manny stomped his work boots onto the sidewalk. The intent seemed to be half to warm his feet and half to cool his head.

“Gold,” he whispered. He pointed in the direction of Mr. Gold’s pawn shop. “That Gold? The guy that has every working person in Storybrooke by balls? The guy who’s practically the reason all of us are living paycheck to paycheck? You’re going on dates with him?”

She shrugged. “It’s only been one date so far, but he asked me to come to his house on Friday.”

“And you said yes? What, does he have something on you? Is that why you need money?”

“No!” Lacey insisted. “I was telling the truth! I just need clothes that are good enough for him.”

“‘Good enough for him?’ He’s not good enough for you, Lacey! That man is a scourge. He’s a parasite. He’s--he’s old enough to be your father!”

“If he was my father, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I’d actually have a good life.”

“You have a good life.” Uncle Manny wasn’t angry anymore. Or if he was, his anger had become still and stern. “Your parents worked every day to give you a good life.”

“And where did it get them?” Lacey snapped. “Where did it get me? Yes, we work hard, but our only reward is getting to work even harder. And I’m so tired.” Her face was hot. God, she was sniffling. “Being with Mr. Gold feels like a break, and that’s all I want anymore. Just a freaking break.” 

Uncle Manny’s arms were around her. He pulled her against his coveralls that smelled like motor oil and sweat. He squeezed her tight and patted her back as she tried to stop crying.

“Sorry,” she sniffed when they broke apart.

“Hey,” he tilted her chin up and looked her in the eye. “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

Despite her tears, Lacey laughed. It was an old joke for them. She knew what her next line had to be: “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”  

He hugged her again, kissed the top of her head. They didn’t talk until they were in front of Game of Thorns.

“I’d stay for dinner, but I’ve had Moe’s cooking before.”

She snorted at another joke she’d heard a thousand times, then she turned serious. “Um. You’re not going to tell anybody, are you?”

“About your…” he searched for the words, then shrugged, “love life?”

“Yeah. You know my dad will blow a gasket if he finds out I’m even talking to Mr. Gold, let alone--”

“Yeah, I know.” Uncle Manny cut her off. Clearly, he didn’t want to hear what she was doing with Mr. Gold.

“So, please don’t tell him? Promise?”

Her uncle sucked his teeth and slowly shook his head in silence. It took a long minute before he looked at her again.

“Okay,” he said. “You’re an adult. You know your own mind, you can make your own decisions. It’s just--be smart, okay? You are an adult, but you’re also our little girl. Me, your dad, your mom, rest her soul--we don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I promise I won’t get hurt, if you promise not to blab my business all over town.”

“Aright,” he sighed. He pulled her in for a tight hug. “I promise. Just--please, take care of yourself.”

  She squeezed her uncle, then headed for the door. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

****

Lacey spent the entire working day on Thursday psychically willing the phone to ring with orders, preferably orders that had to be filled as soon as possible. Doing a rush job would give them an excuse to charge extra. She wouldn’t wish a funeral on anyone, but wouldn’t this be a great weekend for an impromptu wedding? So many of Lacey’s problems would be solved if just one panicked bride would come in and beg them to fill Dodci’s Dance Hall with centerpieces and garlands, not to mention all the bouquets and boutonnieres and flowers for the church too. Or maybe someone important could get sick and everyone in Storybrooke would send flowers to the hospital. Wasn’t there anyone in Storybrooke who was celebrating anything? Did people not have birthdays in late January? There were so many reasons people could need flowers. But this wasn’t a day when people did.

Hustling at the Rabbit Hole wasn’t an option anymore. If this were any other occasion, she would borrow a skirt from Mara or Janine, but that didn’t seem like a possibility. They wouldn’t take the news of her going on a date with Mr. Gold any better than Uncle Manny had. Mara’s store, where she also lived, was rented from Mr. Gold, and Janine had taken out a loan to pay for her beautician supplies. Both of them--really everyone in Storybrooke--saw him as the enemy. As far as they cared to think about it, he was the reason they were poor. If Lacey told her friends how much she wanted to be around him, they would think she was crazy, or morally degenerate.

Maybe she was. 

Or maybe they were wrong. Had her friends ever eaten at Bella Notte? Had they ever worn a dress that made them feel like sex on two legs? Had they ever watched a hapless waiter get strong-armed into breaking a stupid law for them? Had they ever been inside Mr. Gold’s house? Had they ever taken clothes off just because a man had asked them to? Had they ever known the thrill of promising to do whatever another person told them to do? Had they ever known the peace of being an object, of kneeling silently at someone’s feet?

Could they even understand why that was something anyone would want? Let alone that it was something Lacey craved in a place deeper than her bones? Some dark, hidden part of her soul wanted Mr. Gold, like she had never wanted anything else. 

And not having enough money to buy a stupid fucking skirt might keep her away from him forever. She could not abide that thought.

When Friday was another dud--a few orders came in, but they wouldn’t pay until delivery--Lacey knew that she was out of options. Since Mr. Gold would be picking her up tonight at eight, she was also out of time. So she did what everyone in Storybrooke did when they had nowhere else to go.

She went to the pawn shop. 

****

Lacey had always been intrigued by the phrasing of Mr. Gold’s store. The sign said Mr. Gold Pawnbroker and Antiquities Dealer. Most stores advertised the goods sold inside, but Mr. Gold advertised himself. This was who he was, this was what he did. No one came to this store because they needed things, they came because they needed what only he could offer them. Usually, they needed it enough to pay whatever price he set. 

When it came down to it, Lacey really wasn’t that different from any other desperate soul who came to Mr. Gold. The only difference was what she wanted.

It was three in the afternoon. Not technically her lunch break, but it wasn’t like she was getting paid to stick around the flower shop. Lacey changed into some gray dress pants and covered her work shirt with her least-frumpy cardigan. She stuffed her purse full of old toys and oddities that might--cumulatively, optimistically--be worth about ten dollars. She yelled at Dad that she was going out for a minute and then walked over to Mr. Gold’s.

The bell rang over her head when she walked through the front door. Mr. Gold was behind the counter, writing something in a ledger. He looked up at the sound and gave the slightest grin when he saw that it was her. 

“Miss French,” he said, with just a touch of warmth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lacey bit her lip, but forced herself to stay cool. She looked around at the shelves and display cases, slowly making her way forward. Another time, she would have marveled at the art and jewelry and historic do-dads, but now she slunk past them.

“I…” she dragged out the word, unsure of what she was saying as she said it, “was wondering… if you have any clothes for sale.” 

Mr. Gold raised his eyebrows. “Clothes?”

“Yeah.” She stopped in front of a spinning rack of necklaces. She couldn’t look at him. “You know, like vintage stuff?”

He walked over to her, behind the display case. “I’ve got some historic naval uniforms, but nothing that would suit you.”

He was in front of her now, so they were separated by nothing but two feet of glass and gadgets. She didn’t raise her head. Some of these necklaces were really pretty. One gold chain with a mother-of-pearl pendant spoke to her for some reason.

“What do you need, Miss French?”

His voice was gentle, coaxing. He understood how much she hated what she was doing. He probably talked to a lot of people who were feeling what she was feeling. At least he didn’t seem to be enjoying her discomfort.

Lacey took a breath, and looked up at him.

“I need a skirt,” she admitted. “I don’t have anything to wear on our date tonight.”

He blinked. Then his face grew infinitesimally softer. 

“I see,” he said. 

“I brought some stuff.” She set her purse on the counter, began to pull out the junk she’d brought from home. “I thought I might--”

“Please,” he held up a hand. “You don’t need to do that. I’m more than happy to assist you, Miss French.” He turned away from her, went back over to his antique cash register. 

“I can pay you back…”

“Oh you will,” he grinned. He took a bill out of the cash register and set it on the counter. Lacey came closer and saw that it was a fifty. “Will this be enough?”

She fought the urge to snatch the money and run all the way to Modern Fashions. It was the same feeling she’d had when he’d given her the money to tip that stupid waiter. The thrill, the rush, of having cash and knowing she could do anything with it. Fifty dollars was more than she had spent on clothes in the past year. Fifty dollars could cover the bill at Granny’s for her whole family--or at least for Janine and Mara to have real lunches.

Fifty dollars was more than twice what Keith had offered her to have sex with him.

Lacey pulled her hands back. She dug her fingernails into her palms. 

“I… I shouldn’t accept this,” she said.  

“Why not?” Mr. Gold asked, unperturbed. “Are you worried I’ll take advantage of you? Wouldn’t you say that ship has sailed, Miss French?”

She looked down at the dirt-stained sneakers she wore for work. In a resigned whisper, she told Mr. Gold the same thing she said to Keith at the Rabbit Hole.

“I’m not a hooker.”

“Of course not.” Mr. Gold’s voice was smooth and confident. He came out from behind the counter to stand in front of her. Slowly, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, subtly forcing her to look at him. “You’re a woman who knows what she wants and who will do whatever she needs to do to make it happen.”

Lacey’s breath shook. Her eyes were hot and she was trembling.

“What do you want?” he asked her. He really was being very patient. 

“I want to go on another date with you, Mr. Gold.”

“And what do you need to do in order to make that happen?”

“I need--” she stopped. I need a skirt wasn’t the right answer. Mr. Gold had asked her what she needed to do. “I need to get some money, Mr. Gold.”

“Ask me for it.” He gave the order like it was a caress. “Ask me for the money and I’ll give it to you, Miss French.”

 This wasn’t like with Keith. This wasn’t being so desperate for money that she’d have sex with a stranger. This was being so desperate for sex that she’d take money to make sure she’d get it. She’d let Mr. Gold pay her like a whore just to make sure he kept treating her like a slut. 

She swallowed. She had to swallow a few times before she was brave enough to speak.

“Please, Mr. Gold, will you give me fifty dollars so I can have something suitable to wear for our date tonight?”

“I would be happy too, Miss French.” He lowered his hand from her cheek and picked the bill up off of the counter. Gently, he took her hand by the wrist, placed the fifty on her palm, and closed her fingers over it.

He grinned at her.

“Buy yourself something pretty.”

Lacey clenched her jaw. Now he was enjoying this. She bit back words that would make him take the money back. Instead, she said what she knew he wanted her to say.

“Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

“You’re quite welcome, Miss French.”

He turned around then, went back behind the counter. Lacey understood she was dismissed. Facing the door, she took a breath and checked to make sure none of her tears had spilled out onto her cheeks. 

Before she opened the door, Mr. Gold called over to her. 

“Miss French,” he said. “If you happen to buy a red skirt and wear nothing underneath it, I will eat your cunt for dessert tonight.”

Lacey’s eyes went wide. Her shock was less for what Mr. Gold had said and more for his nonchalant tone. He was talking about sex in the same way he would talk about running errands.

“Do you understand me, Miss French?”

What about it did he think she didn’t understand? Then Lacey realized she hadn’t answered him. Mr. Gold expected an answer when he spoke to people. 

“Yes, Mr. Gold,” she said. Shock had made her voice a little breathy. “Thank you for telling me, Mr. Gold.”

He gave her a nod. 

Dazed and excited, Lacey left his shop and made her way down the street to Modern Fashions. She had a red skirt to buy.

[coyotere]

Size pt1:

while working one night in the local diner, you strike conversation with me, the new ranger taking care of the forest that half covers the town. i have only been here a few months so some folk still are uneasy when I enter a room, most have grown comfortable with my charm. being interested in my accent you spend some time grilling me.

you find I'm from a western state most well known for its mountains, and that I've lived mostly in towns like this one my whole life, you can't help but notice how broad my shoulders are. you make a passing comment making my eyebrow raise. you sputter nervously, due to a low population and severe isolation you don't have much experience with flirting beyond people you've known your whole life so you excuse your comment.

we talk till you're off shift, promising drinks I get your address, you are excited and as we both stand up you realize how much larger I am than you, even looking up only brings you to my chest and chin, a good 12 in difference glares you down. your insides twitch at this passing thought.

you push it out of your mind, go home, shower, get dressed and meet me at the only bar in town, I've also changed into a well fitting outfit and while I open the door for you put my hand on the small of your back and softly say "atta girl" as you step through the door, you gave flush you find us a corner booth and we order our drinks.

you feel loosened up enough to admit you think I'm attractive and my poorly hidden glances show I think the same, while only having sad missionary sex once for 5 minutes in highschool you decide to take a dare. your hand softly lays on the inside of my thigh while we talk and you hear my breathing grow heavy and you suggest we find somewhere quiet, your head fuzzy with the thought of finally bringing home a man you don't realize how intently I've been staring at you.

unlocking your front door you feel me standing close to you, my hand on your lower back and my hips close to yours you grind backwards and realize, you might need to pray to make my cock fit. pulling inside we kiss, at first the height difference made you crane your neck but quickly I pick you up and you wrap your hips around my waist as I push my tongue into you mouth.

feeling the bulge in my pants press against your growing wet spot you begin to grind against me pulling a groan from my lips, i lay you down in the bed giving us both the time to undress and your jaw drops, i am covered in tattoos, i pull you up by your chin and ask if you are ready as you take it in your hands, it is hot and firm the tip dripping as it twitches you press it in your mouth only able to get half of it inside as my hand runs through your hair.

i softly pull you off and push you onto your back spreading your legs open as I lick my fingers before stuffing them inside you and gif my hand is large, even with two fingers inside your needy cunt my hand covers your pussy your arc your hips as I hit a spot you don't think anyone has touched before your mons grow loud and you pussy is sopping wet when I finally position my hips above you, pressing my tip against your needy hole and push deep inside you gasp in pain your body adjusting to the size but you don't have long before i bring you knees together making it an even tighter fit as i less fuck you and more use you to fuck myself, you feel my hands on your hips controlling a pace that has you dizzy with pleasure and a depth that has you wincing as much cock slams into your cervix, I fold you in half in order to kiss you my tongue feeling the inside of your mouth and drool softly leaking past your lips.

it's incredible you can't think of anything as I pound your guts, you don't even notice when I lay you on your side spreading your legs open but when my hand drifts to your clit the feeling is overwhelming you cum fast and hard shaking but i hold you firm in place pause the relentless fucking until you relax but we aren't done, i lay you on your stomach spreading you legs apart with my knees pressing one hand in-between your shoulders the other guiding my cock back inside you, i fuck downwards stuffing you as you are overstimulated barely able to speak to beg me to slow down cause its to much, my grunts fill your room as the best you can muster is a "ah ah ah ah." while I use your pussy for my personal fuck toy.

i bottom out burying every last painful inch inside you as drool leaks from my mouth dripping cold on your back and you feel a warm pool deep inside you. you cum hard twitching against me your jerking movements printing me to slam down again emptying every last drop of cum inside your hole.

i lay down on top of you still softly stroking my cock inside you, both of us sweaty and gasping for air, you can't move due to my weight pinning against the bed but you don't care your shaking too much to do anything regardless.